#melbourne escape rooms

[rushescapegameme]

Level Up Your Home: Crafting the Ultimate Game Room

In the world of gaming, immersion is everything. Whether you're a casual player or a hardcore gamer, having a dedicated space where you can escape into your favourite games can take your experience to the next level.

Imagine a room where every element is carefully designed to enhance your gaming sessions – from the lighting to the furniture layout. Creating the ultimate game room in your home is not just about entertainment; it's about crafting an experience that transports you to another world. Here's how you can level up your home by designing the ultimate game room.

1. Choose the Right Space

The first step in creating your dream game room in Melbourne is choosing the right space. Ideally, you want a room that is spacious enough to accommodate your gaming setup comfortably.

Consider factors like natural light, noise levels, and accessibility when selecting the room. Basements, spare bedrooms, or even converted garages can make excellent game room options. Once you've chosen the space, it's time to plan out the layout

2. Optimize the Layout

The layout of your game room can significantly impact your gaming experience. Arrange your furniture in a way that maximises space and promotes comfortable gameplay. Keep your gaming setup as the focal point of the room, with seating positioned for optimal viewing angles.

Consider incorporating storage solutions to keep your gaming accessories organised and easily accessible. A well-planned layout will not only enhance the aesthetics of your game room but also improve functionality.

3. Invest in Quality Gaming Equipment

The heart of any game room is the gaming equipment. Invest in high-quality gaming consoles, PCs, monitors, and peripherals to ensure smooth gameplay. Choose a gaming chair that provides adequate support and comfort for long gaming sessions.

Consider installing a surround sound system or gaming headphones to immerse yourself fully in the audio experience. Don't forget about lighting – adjustable LED lights can create ambience and reduce eye strain during extended gaming sessions.

4. Personalize the Décor

Make your game room in Melbourne truly your own by personalising the décor. Choose a theme that reflects your gaming preferences, whether it's retro arcade, futuristic sci-fi, or fantasy adventure.

Incorporate artwork, posters, and memorabilia from your favourite games to add character to the space. Consider installing shelves or display cases to showcase your gaming collection.

Don't be afraid to get creative – adding unique touches like themed rugs or wall decals can enhance the overall ambience of your game room.

5. Create a Comfortable Atmosphere

Comfort is key when it comes to gaming, so make sure your game room is a comfortable place to spend time in. Choose comfortable seating options like bean bags, recliners, or gaming couches where you can relax during marathon gaming sessions.

Consider installing blackout curtains or blinds to block out glare and create an immersive gaming environment. Keep the room well-ventilated and at a comfortable temperature to prevent overheating during intense gaming sessions. With the right atmosphere, you can game for hours without feeling fatigued or uncomfortable.

Conclusion

Creating the ultimate game room in Melbourne is a labour of love that requires careful planning and attention to detail. By choosing the right space, optimising the layout, investing in quality equipment, personalising the décor, and creating a comfortable atmosphere, you can design a game room that elevates your gaming experience to new heights.

Whether you're battling dragons, racing cars, or exploring virtual worlds, your game room will be the ultimate sanctuary for all your gaming adventures. So, roll up your sleeves and start crafting the game room of your dreams – the ultimate gaming paradise awaits!

[landosjpg]

morning runs | ln

the one where your boyfriend finds you fast asleep in your hotel bed when he returns from his morning run.

lando norrix x fem!reader

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: smut MINORS DNI!!!!, porn without plot, somnophilia, p in v, unprotected sex (as always, take care please), slight praise

note: those pictures of him running around melbourne with his shirt off have sent me into a spiral and they're the only thing i could think about for the past two days. i could not help myself.

no matter how many times you travelled long distances, you still weren't used to it; jet lag always kicked your ass every time you went to a race on the other side of the world with lando, messing up your sleeping schedule to the point it ended up knocking you out for the vast majority of the day.

you were trying your best to adapt to the time change, but it always took you a few days to get it right. this year, lando had decided that morning runs were the way to beat jet lag.

he had asked you to join a few times, promising it would be helpful, but the drowsiness made it impossible for you to climb out of bed that early and be productive. that's why he had left all by himself early in the morning, tucking you in and planting a soft kiss on your forehead before walking out the hotel room.

he came back only a few hours later, cheeks flushed and a thin layer of sweat covering his chest, tank top in hand. when he walked into your shared room, he found you were still in bed, in the same position he had left you earlier, sheets sprawled out barely covering your body now.

he softly smiled at the sight before him, the dim light that entered the room from the blinds tempting him to get back in bed with you. he would. righter after taking a shower, he promised himself.

however, he walked to where you were, smiling at your sleepy expression.

"i love you," he mumbled, leaning down to peck your slightly parted lips. he raised his eyebrows when he heard a small whimper leave your throat and you shifted around a little, his eyes scanning your half-naked body.

you were only weating one of his shirts. not that it was something you never did before, but something about tour drowsy state was drawing him in. he sat right beside you on the mattress, trying not to woke you up and his fingers slowly reached for your legs, stroking your bare sking tenderly with the tip of his fingers.

you sighed softly at his warm touch, stretching your body and your shirt sliding up, letting him have a look at your underwear. he moved his hand up, up, up, until his fingertips brushed against the hem of your panties. as if it was muscle memory, your legs slowly spread open for him.

and fuck, was it tempting.

it wouldn't be the first time you woke up to his fingers buried deep inside you or his head between your legs, but he knew this time you were too tired. and he would have stood up and taken a shower if you hadn't whimpered his name in your sleep the second he withdrew his hand from your core. the sweet sound that fell from your lips made him smile, fingers slowly going back to pull your underwear to the side so he could get a proper look at you.

his smirk grew wider at the sight of how wet you were, and when you stirred the second he softly pressed his thumb against your clit, he knew he couldn't just leave you yet. lazily, he got rid of his own clothes, discarding them on the floor and hovered over your body, pulling your shirt up to your hips gently, still not wanting to disturb your sleep.

"look so pretty like this, baby," he mumbled before leaning down to kiss your cheek as he slid his already hard cock between your folds, slowly pushing inside of you only a few seconds later. a low groan escaped his throat as you easily took all of him; the fact that you were so ready for him, even in your unaware state, making him smile once more.

he stilled his body as he bottomed out for a few seconds, his eyes taking in your sweet expression. he brushed a strand of your hair back as he started rolling his hips slowly, his breath getting heavier as you hummed in your sleep.

the groan he let out right next to your ear as you unconciously clenched around him woke you up, making your body squirm in confussion under him.

"s'me, baby..." he slurred, still fucking you slowly and gently. "it's just me, don't worry."

you softly whimpered when you heard your boyfriend's voice and felt his weight on you, chest pressed against yours.

"lando..." the moan that left your lips was low, and you lazily wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him close. your eyes fluttered open only to find out he was looking right back at you. through half-lidded eyes, you could see the slight flush of his cheeks, a chuckle leaving your lips before you closed them again.

"you're doing so good," he whispered, keeping his thrusts gentle, not wanting to take you out of your sleepy state. "my pretty, pretty baby," he added, bumping his nose on yours to kiss your lips before hiding his face in the crook of your neck and spreading little kisses all over your skin.

the build up was slow, whispered praises and sighs being the only sound filling the room that turned into low whimpers as soon as you felt your toes curling, your pussy tightening around your boyfriend's cock, stealing a string of curses from his lips when you felt him filling you up.

after a few seconds, he slowly rolled the two of you on the mattress, your body now on top of his with him still buried inside of you.

"go back to sleep, baby," he murmured, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips and pulling the bedsheets over your bodies again, his arms holding you close to his chest, keeping you warm and comfortable.

[planetpiastri]

Imagine Oscar with an American!reader who teams up with Logan to tease Oscar

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!american!reader [no faceclaim, reader is faceless] summary: oscar should have known what he was getting into when he started dating an american. who are we kidding, he absolutely knew what he was getting into. notes: i'm actually in love with this request as an american girlie myself. there's a lot of jokes here that are inside jokes my friends and i make about f1, so i hope you guys enjoy them too. also as a former tgm blog, this is a little bit of a full circle moment hehe

ynusername

liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and others

ynusername USA! USA! RRRAAAHHH 🦅🦅🦅

view all 427 comments

mclaren Thanks for hanging out in the Austin paddock with us! 🧡

ynusername thanks for having me!!

oscarpiastri Wow that caption does not fit the aesthetic at all

ynusername sorry pookie wookie snugglelumps you're my bestest most favorite boy thank u for making me din din❤️❤️

logansargeant LFGGGGGGG

username1 oscar cannot escape the americans first logan and now his gf 😭

oscarpiastri I am in a hell of my own choosing

ynusername

liked by alex_albon, logansargeant, and others

ynusername sorry i ate two taco bell soft tacos in less than 90 seconds do u still think i'm hot

view all 338 comments

oscarpiastri Always ❤️

ynusername AWWWWW logansargeant Get a room

landonorris last i checked, taco bell is not part of his racing diet 🤨

ynusername ssh you didn't see nuthin 🤺

username2 okay but what's oscar's order??

username3 i bet yn and logan ordered for him ynusername correct

oscarpiastri Final thoughts: it was good I guess, my tummy kinda hurts, the best part was the soda

logansargeant Yeah that checks out

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, ynusername, and 157,960 others

oscarpiastri My American girl ❤️

view all 1,743 comments

username3 WAAHH THEY'RE SO CUTE

username4 why is he soft launching they've been together for like 3 years now

ynusername ❤️

logansargeant American boy** silly there's a typo in your caption

landonorris oscarpiastri he wants u fr oscarpiastri I know

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and others

ynusername hi australia 👋 thank u for making my forever person ❤️

view all 604 comments

username5 my 😭 forever 😭 person 😭

oscarpiastri I love you ❤️

ynusername giggling blushing kicking my feet

logansargeant Come back I'm bored

username6 yn showing oscar around california and oscar showing yn around melbourne oh i'm gonna barf they're so cute

tagging: @sonder-paradise bc she helped beta this<3

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Yer' a pair of pests!

Here's another part of chaos fc!

Thank you @alotofpockets to help me out when i need it, big time!

I'm finding writing stuff like this the best thing right now as i can't handle much angst with the current situation i'm dealing with...

Anyways. I hope you enjoy!

pairings: kim little x reader, kyra cooney cross x reader, arsenal wfc x reader

summary: reader and kyra continue to cause mayhem on the trip in melbourne with katie falling victim of their latest prank

"KYRA!" You bolt through the room and literally throw yourself on the older girls back, which took her by complete surprise as you wrap your legs' round her and cling onto her.

You've been lucky enough to escape the watchful eyes of Kim and Steph, making a quick exit out of the room the minute that the press conference had ended, running in the direction of where the rest of the girls will be.

"Y/N/N!" The Australian girl exclaims just as enthusiastically, "Where'd you go?" She wonders.

"I told you that Mother Kimmy held me captive-- Ah, Kyra!" You squeal, taken by sudden surprise as you're body slammed to the ground all the sudden by your partner in crime.

"And the chaos resumes," Caitlin murmers, rolling her eyes as she watches the pair of you wrestle on the floor. "Girls, get up off the floor!"

"More like responsibility," Katie chuckle in amusement, shaking her head as she watches the chaos unfold with you two "kids" in the team.

"Kyra! Y/N! Break it up!" The older Australian girl continues to shout, trying to get in between the two of you to stop mucking about, "Can't you to ever behave? You're supposed to be adults, settling examples here!"

"This is entertainment at its' finest," Vic remarks, watching it from the side as she has her phone out to record it.

In fact, most of the girls had their phones out and where laughing while watching, meanwhile Caitlin still struggles to break it up between the two of you.

"Kyra! Y/N!" Caitlin shouts at the top of her voice, trying to tug your counter part away from brawling with you, "One of you is seriously going to get hurt in a minute!"

"What's going on?" Steph questions, hearing the commotion before she enters the room even though shes' not entirely aware of what's happening.

"Kyra and Y/N are fighting and Caitlins' trying to break it up," Alessia chimes in, motioning to what is happening between you and the two Aussie's.

"And failing," Teyah snickers before she goes to try and goad both of you to continue to play fight on the floor.

"Fighting?" Stephs' eyes widen in shock before she pushes her way forward and tries to take control of the situation, "What're you two playin' at? I swear to god its' like dealing with actual children!" She tries to take a hold of your upper bicep, but your too scrappy for her to successfully to that.

"What's going on?" Kim enters the room and narrows her eyes in your direction, "Y/F/N, get up from the floor, right now!" She bellows across the room to you.

Your smart enough to recognise your captains' voie and listen to what she's telling you to avoid any further direct scolding from her, "Ello there, Kimmy," You flash her an innocent smile, like you've not been causing no trouble.

"Enough trouble, go and get ready!" Kim states, firmly while motioning in the direction of where your own stuff is on the bench awaiting the open training session in front of all the fans.

"Don't know what yer even talkin' about there," You grin cheekily but still do as your told; Sure enough you're a troublemaker, but you know when to listen sometimes.

Your not a complete idiot.

Even if some others' might agree with that.

Following orders from your captain, you get ready to go and join the open training session as Kyra wanders over to sit beside you on the bench, "Did you do it?" You wonder.

"We did it," Kyra grins mischeviously, grabbing her top to shove it over her head.

"Told you we wouldn't let you down, eagle 1," One of the Academy players, Maddie chimes in as she wanders over near to the bench.

"Nicely done, Young Gun!" You state, playfully ruffling the girls' hair.

"Y/N!" You suddenly hear your captain shout aloud to get your attention.

Your quick to hold your hands up in mock surrender, "I-- I didn't do anything!" You insist.

"Quit muckin' around and get ready!" Kim states in a tone that leaves no room for objection, "And leave Maddie alone, don't be dragging her into none of your shenanigans!" She warns with a pointed finger in your direction.

"I-- What? I'm not tryin' to involve her in nothing," You try to justify yourself while resisting the urge to roll your eyes, "And I'm not even causin' any trouble!" You exclaim.

Kim keeps her eyes' on you as she looks at you sleptically, "That's the way its' going to stay, alright? I don't want to be havin' any more trouble from you today!" She all but demands, while you try and protest but you know with the luck shes' still giving you its' jus better to do as your told for once.

That still doesn't mean you won't be a brat about it.

"Borin'," You murmer, sitting down to shove your boots on.

"I heard that Y/N," Kim is quick to hear what you say straight away.

"Good, cos' you were meant too," You remark, playfully sticking your tongue out at the older Scots' women.

"Y/N! Would you stop!" Alessia shouts in frustration after shes' finally had enough of your antics.

"I didn't do out Lessi," You hold your hands up in surrender and try play your innocence.

"Yes you did-- You keep on trying to trip me up!" The older blonde states, glaring at you.

In your defence, you did aim to try and stay of trouble, but it's not always easy and before you know it, you're bored once more and actively causing chaos again.

In this case, it was trying to see how many times you could purposely trip Alessia up before she got annoyed with you.

"What's going on?" Katie calls over to where your stood irritating the older girl with the help of your trusty sidekick of course.

The uproar of course catches the attention of a few of the older players as they look over to see what's going on in the middle of the training session on the pitch.

"Y/N's being a menace," Alessia snitches on you straight away.

"When isn't she?" Teyah chimes in as she laughs in amusement 

"I'm not even doin' anything!" You exclaim, trying to make it seem like your being a complete angel.

Vic can't help but laugh as she walks past, "You're always up to something," She comments.

"Y/N, knock it off!" Kim sends a pointed look in your direction, not even needing to say anything further as you slump your shoulders in defeat to being scolded once again.

"The fox is entering the building," Mini Viv rushes into the locker room ahead of the American after the training session takes place to let you know so you can be ready with the can of silly string that you'd managed to somehow convince Teyah to get for you.

Sometimes you forget that your both the same age.

Oh well.

"Shes' coming! Shes' coming! Shes' round the corner!" Mini Katie burts through the door, after you had her keep a look out for your next target to prank.

"Good work, Young Gun!" You grin at the 17-year-old and turn to Kyra whos' of course been pulled into your scheming mischief, "It's show time," You share a sly grin with the Aussie girl, stood up on the benches in the locker room as you get ready to fire at your target.

"Lets' cause mayhem," Kyra states, more than eager to get the American like the plan is to do.

"Girls-- Ah! What the fuck?!" The two of you fire your silly string in the direction of the player who you thought was Emily, however, you're severly wrong when you realise its' someone completely different.

"Oh shit," Kyra mumbles in realisation, dropping the can straight away.

"Oh shit," You repeat, your eyes widen in realisation of how much trouble you'd be in now.

It wasn't Emily, but instead it was your fellow Irish team mate, Katie McCabe.

Oops?

"Hey, Katie. Are you-- What the hell happened in here?" Steph wanders into the locker room and her eyes widen seeing the scene in front of her as she takes in the Irish girl covered in silly string while you and Kyra look guiltier than ever.

"We thought it was Emily!" Kyra is the first to spill.

"We didn't... We didn't realise you were gonna walk through the door first!" You try and defend yourself, despite how much trouble you knew you would be in.

"What the--" Caitlin walks into the locker room and furrows her eyebrows, confused.

"What's going on?" Emily just happens to walk into the locker room with Alessia and looks around in confusion.

"We thought it was gonna be you!" Mini Viv exclaims.

"Yeah, you were supposed to walk in. Where'd you go?" Mini Katie pouts, realising that the prank had completely failed.

"You girls are dead," Katie seethes, although its' hard to try and not laugh at her when shes' covered in multicoloured silly string.

"Whoops?" You question, flashing her an innocent smile to try and get yourself out of trouble.

"Come 'ere, you little--" Katie lunges at you as your eyes' widen and you try to bolt out of the locker room, but its' blocked off by the one person you didn't want to see walking through it.

"What an earth is going on?!" Kim all but shouts aloud as she takes in the pure chaos in the locker room; The current situation being that Katie is trying to chase you around the room.

Meanwhile, Kyra is being held captive between the two older Aussie girls' who are giving her a grilling about it.

"I didn't do out-- Kimmy, save me from her!" You try and escape in the direction of the Scots' women, making out like your non the wiser of the reason of what happened, "Katies' mad at me for no reason!"

"Yes I am you little shit-- Come 'ere!" The Irish girl still tries to grab a hold of you as Kim at least has some decency to shield you from her wrath.

"Alright, that's enough. Katie, back off!" Your captain tells the brunette firmly, giving that she reluctantly gives in and goes back to her own cubby in annoyance, all while you can't resist the urge to smirk at her until of course Kim looks at you, "And you, what have I told you about causing any more trouble! Silly strong, really, Y/N?" She scolds you.

"I didn't do out, you have no proof it was us," You innocently shrug your shoulders and try to act like butter wouldn't melt while under your captain's gaze.

It doesn't do much to work though.

"I'm not blind, Y/F/N! You sit there, right now and don't even think about moving!" Kim tells you in a firm voice, pinching the bridge of her nose as she gestures to the bench in front of her own cubby instead of yours.

"Oooof, you're in trouble," Kyra taunts you from the other side of the room.

"Kyra!" Steph gives the younger Australian a pointed look.

"Now whos' in trouble," You remark loud enough for others to hear still.

"Y/N!" Kim continues to stare at you with a look that could definitely kill given the chance, "Sit down. Now!"

"Party pooper," You huff and slump down onto the bench, awaiting whatever lecture you're bound to get from the Scots' women given the prank you'd pulled.

In your opinion, it's still definitely worth it even if you are trouble and boy did you know you're in hot water now.

But still very much worth it.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[norlestappen]

The Williams Shitstorm - LS2

Summary: After Alex crashed in Australia, Logan was just ready to be sad with y/n, but y/n was having none of that. She was ready to fight everyone to make sure her boyfriend was happy again. Sad-boyfriend!Logan x confident gf!reader

Time flew by, you cheering for your boyfriend, feeling so confident in his performance in the current season. You felt so happy knowing that Logan got his second chance and could finally prove that he was just as talented as the other drivers on the grid.

When you used to work in a boring office, you would always miss your boyfriend, seeing him on the television that was positioned on the other end of the room.

Dating a racing driver had its ups and downs, but you would never trade it for the world. You had a gentle, kind, and wholehearted man by your side, who never once doubted your abilities or you.

It seemed like the perfect opportunity when you were offered a job in Williams when Logan resigned for another year. You felt ecstatic being able to stay with your boyfriend, still being able to work and finally having that free time together that you guys always missed out on.

All of that gratefulness ended when you were in Melbourne, Alex had just crashed in FP2 and they had to find a solution on what to do. You were on edge a little bit, not liking the fact what the team was talking about. Getting Alex to race in Logans car? Impossible. Trying to repair his car? Unless they were magicians, that would be pretty impossible too. You were getting impatient, waiting in Logan’s drivers’ room, wanting an answer on this whole situation. You knew that Logan would agree to anything that James made him do, because he was just that person. Never arguing, in hopes to not raise any attention to himself.

So, when the door opened and he just laid down next to you on the tiny couch, you just knew something must have happened. He would always try to escape his mind by cuddling into you, like an infant. But you also knew that there was no way to get the information at that given moment. He needed to calm down, collect his thoughts and just relax before approaching the subject.

In the meantime, you were texting the wags group chat, trying to get more information on whatever drama was going on in the other teams. But most things weren’t new.

Kika and Flavy were complaining about Alpine being shit. Alexandra and Rebecca had their own conversation going on, while both Lilys, Luisa, and you were discussing what was going on with Logan. Barely a few minutes went on, when you got a message of Alex’s Lily:

Lily Albono: heyy girl, so I just talked to Alex, and I got horrible news. Alex is fine btw, but idk about Logan. Is he with you? Alex is worried. Apparently, Alex is driving Logans car tomorrow? Wish I had better news, but James said that Logan is sitting out this GP since Alex always has more points than him.

Your phone fell down, accidentally hitting Logan’s head as it fell down onto the floor. You couldn’t even process what happened as your whole body was suddenly fueled with anger and frustration.

Sitting up, you looked at your confused and sleepy boyfriend and you just hug him tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me, Lo? You do know that you can always tell me anything, right?” He looked up at you, nodding slightly, tears escaping his eyes already.

“You know about it, don’t you? That I can’t race anymore this week?” You nodded, not wanting to scare Logan because you knew that he was just the babygirl in this relationship.

[ouiouibaguettt]

Yellow

─ ⋅◈⋅ ━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━ ⋅◈⋅ ── ⋅◈⋅ ━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━ ⋅◈⋅ ─

ellie carpenter x reader

Y/N is the sister of Alexandre Lacazette here.

words: 2.8k

warnings: slight mentions of bad comments

→ two lovers in australia before the wwc2023!

→ inspired by yellow by Coldplay

Masterlist

 ─ ⋅◈⋅ ━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━ ⋅◈⋅ ── ⋅◈⋅ ━─┉┈◈❖◈┈┉─━ ⋅◈⋅ ─

Look at the stars Look how they shine for you

Arriving at the airport after a 1-day flight. You took out the camera to continue the series of vlogs that you posts every day and which you started the week of the warm-up match against Ireland. 

"Hey guys how are you today? Personally I'm pretty good-" you said before being cut off by your teammate Selma Bacha.

"She's only in a good mood because she's going to see her girlfriend again tomorrow" she said before catching up with Grace Geyoro and Viviane Asseyi to escape you. 

"I mean she's right, I'm going to see Ellie again tomorrow." you say with a big smile before getting back on topic. 

"Anyway, we've just arrived in Melbourne to get ready for the game against Australia on the 15th of July. Honestly, I think it's going to be a tough match,  it's not at the same level as Ireland, even though Ireland had some very good players. So we're going to have to move our asses to try and win the match. I'll make a transition to show you my room at the hotel afterwards," you say before hiding your camera with your hand and turning it off.

And everything you do

Yeah, they were all yellow

Once you’re arrived at the hotel, and found out about the accommodation for the coming week, you were relieved to find yourself with Selma, your partner since the Olympique Lyonnais academy. 

"Yes, Y/N/N, we're in the same room", Selma said, jumping onto your back before bringing you down to the floor with her. 

"Yes I can read Selma" you say as you pushed her off your back to get up. Returning to the room, you take out your camera to resume the vlog. You put your hand back in front of the camera before taking it away to say.

"I'm back! So I'm going to show you the room," you say before starting to show the room. Once you’re finished, you dropped yourself onto the bed to conclude the day's video: 

"Well, guys, that was our beautiful room, so I'll see you tomorrow with Ellie! Sel' do you want to say something?" you asked your flatmate, "Yes, hang on, I'm coming" she said.

*big thump* 

"Sel' ça va?" you asked between two laughs, tears welling up in your eyes as the fall was so ridiculous. 

"Ca va" said Selma, getting up and walking more calmly towards you. "Kisses guys, sleep well, don't forget to support France for the World Cup please, goodbye" she said as she climbed back into bed. 

"You heard the boss, good night and see you tomorrow," you say, switching off your vlog before connecting the camera to the computer to post the video. 

I came along I wrote a song for you And all the things you do

As a player living under the shadow of your big brother, you were used to receiving comments like "you're not as good as your brother", "stop playing football", "well, lacazette's sister sucks lmao", but that didn't mean you were happy to receive these kinds of comments. That's how you found yourself at 2am on twitter and Instagram reading the comments you received every day. These comments made you fall asleep at 5am.

And it was called Yellow

When you woke up, Selma saw that you were still asleep, which was strange because, apart from when you are with Ellie, you are an early riser. It was when she saw the phone in your hands that Selma realised why you still hadn't woken up. So she had the wonderful idea of surprising you. Selma walked over to your camera to start the vlog of the day. 

"Hi guys, it's Selma, I know you were expecting to see Y/N/N, but she's still asleep, she hasn't had the best night, so to change that I'm going to call Ellie, because I know she's already awake, get her over here so she can wake up our favourite person. It's clearly a genius idea". She says as she picks up her phone and dials Ellie's number. 

"Hey Ellie, I'm sorry to bother you but would you like to come to our hotel right now? Because I have to tell you, Y/N/N didn't have the best night of her life. She was still asleep when I woke up, with her phone in her hands, and I think she's been on the internet again to see what people are saying about her," said Selma, worried about you. 

"Don't worry, you're not bothering me. Oh yes, why not, it's a good idea and it'll be good for her not to think about it while I'm with her" said Ellie, going back to her room to get her things, a Matildas tracksuit set. 

"Okay good, and yes, I think so too. I'm going downstairs to let the receptionist know you're coming so you don't get turned away," said Selma as she started to leave her room and head for reception. 

"Ok thanks, I'll be there in 10 or 15 minutes, see you later" said Ellie as she hung up.

So then I took my turn Oh, what a thing to have done And it was all yellow

Once Ellie arrived outside the hotel, she was immediately greeted by one of the receptionists. "Hello, what can I do to help you?" asked the hostess. 

"Hi, I'm Ellie Carpenter, Y/N Lacazette's girlfriend, I've come to visit her. Her flatmate, Selma Bacha, told me she'd told you?" said Ellie, hoping she hadn't given the wrong information. 

"Oh yes, I see, well Mrs Carpenter, your girlfriend is on the 3rd floor, room 312. Have a nice day" said the hostess. 

"Thank you very much, have a nice day too" thanked Ellie before taking the lift to room 312 on the 3rd floor. Arriving at the door of the room, Ellie took out her telephone to warn Selma.

to Selmama

I'm at the door

By the time she had put her phone away, the door opened and Selma Bacha was overjoyed to see her Lyon team-mate here. 

"Ellie" Selma shouted in a whisper as she came to give her a hug. 

"Thanks for coming" she thanked her quickly before letting Ellie into the room. 

"No worries, you know I'd do anything for our favorite person" Ellie said with a heart filled look on her face. 

"Oh that's lovely an digusting at the same time" said Selma smiling before resuming her sentence.

"So, you've got the key card on Y/N/N's bedside table if you need it, I'll go with Grace, Kenza and Viviane. Have a nice day, lovers." she said as she closed the door. Now alone, Ellie took off her shoes, then went straight to your camera to resume the vlog, "Hi everyone, this is Ellie, my moment of glory is going to be short as I'm just going to film myself waking Zoe up" she said as she placed the camera on a piece of furniture so that it was well positioned.

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones Turn into something beautiful And you know, you know I love you so

"My love, wake up" said Ellie as she sat down next to you and stroked your cheek. 

"Hmm Ellie, what are you doing here, let me sleep, I'm so tired. Give me your jumper im cold and i miss you" you grumbled as you pulled the duvet up over your face. 

"I am here because Im worried about you and because I love you. Now do you want my jumper?" asked Ellie. 

"Yes please give it to me, and no need to be worried i just read those comment last night and I shouldn't have done now cuddles please." you say holding out your hands at her like a baby. 

"Argh Ellie your jumper's all yellow" you complained girl. 

"Don’t do it again baby you are an excellent player okay? So I have to take it back?" questioned Ellie. 

"No, I'm only going to wear it because it's got your scent on it and I missed you, come on come here i ant cuddles please" you say as you put on the famous yellow jumper and grabbed Ellie by the waist to lay her down beside you. 

"I missed you too," said Ellie, putting her hand on you cheek to draw you into a kiss.

You know I love you so

After spending the morning in bed, our lovebirds got up and got ready, although you preferred to keep Ellie’s jumper, to join Caitlin Foord, and Sam Kerr at a restaurant for lunch time. When they got there, you were greeted by whistles because of the yellow clothes you were wearing. 

"That's the last time I wear yellow for you Els" you say with your cheeks flushed. 

"Don't say that, yellow suits your tan" laughs Sam before saying hello. 

"I'm going to leave again if you don't stop" you tried to intimidate the 3 matildas. Once the meal was over, the 4 people decided to go their separate ways, Sam and Caitin heading back to their hotel, and Ellie and you to your hotel, but before you could do so Caitlin turned round to say. "We'll be waiting for you in 6 days Y/N/N, I hope you're ready to lose", narrowly missing the middle finger you gave her.

I swam across I jumped across for you Oh, what a thing to do 'Cause you were all yellow

Having spent the rest of the afternoon lounging by the pool, watching their series, you and Ellie went back up to your room to enjoy a couple of hours together before having to separate for the next month. 

"Why does all of your tracksuit are yellow? That colour isn't on your flag dude it's weird" you asked. 

"I don't know it's not me who create your tracksuit, and- woah hold on miss, did you really call me 'dude'" said Ellie. 

"Yes, I did, what are you gonna do 'du-'" you say before being cut off by two hands coming to tickle her on her hips. "AH- E-Ellie stop it please" you say with tears in your eyes and between two breath. 

"Said you're sorry for calling me 'dude' im your girlfirend not your dude". she threatened you. 

"I-Im sorry, now please s-stop it i can't take it anymore" you say trying to push away Ellie who had ended up on top of you. 

"Ok, Ok I will stop" said Ellie but didn't take her hands off your hips. 

"Why are you looking at me like that" asked the Australian, "Like what?" you replied. 

"Like I've just tied up all the stars in the sky" replied the blonde. 

"You're the most beautiful star" you say with a cheeky grin. 

"Okay softie come here now" replied Ellie drawing you into a kiss before resting her head in the crook of your neck.

I drew a line I drew a line for you Oh, what a thing to do And it was all yellow

When Ellie left, you noticed that she had forgotten to take her tracksuit jacket, so you took out her phone to tell her.

to Baby Aussie You forgot your jacket x

from Baby Aussie I know, I did it on purpose because I know you love yellow, and my stuff so it’s gift xx

to Baby Aussie I hate you, but thank you, I love you!! xx

from Baby Aussie I love you too baby xx

Resting your phone on your stomach, you couldn't help but feel butterflies in your stomach at the thought of having Ellie's jacket with you for the next few days. When it was time for dinner, you had barely got out of the shower so you grabbed the first clothes you could find before putting them on and hurrying down the stairs so as not to be late. 

"Nice jacket, Y/N." Grace told you, laughing along with Viviane and Selma. 

"I didn't know you'd changed nationality" said your coach as he left to sit at the other coaches' table. 

"Huh?" was the only thing you could reply before looking at your clothes, it was when you saw the Matildas jacket that you understood her team's jokes. 

"Leave me alone" you say as you sat down next to Selma who was filming the scene with Amel and Wendie, all posting you in Ellie's jacket, and mentioning the two of you in a instagram’s story. You decided to repost it with "I look good in yellow don't I", before switching off your phone.

And your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones Turn into something beautiful And you know, for you, I'd bleed myself dry For you, I'd bleed myself dry

from @elliecarpenterr yes yellow looks good on you, but my jacket looks even better on you!

from @elliecarpenterr at least the fan are going to be happy with this content.

You saw Ellie's instragram messages as you went back to your room, so you decided to reply quickly before getting ready for bed so you could be in shape for the first training session of the week. At the end of the first training session (which was more of a muscle warm-up) of the day, you joined your foursome before going to the table for lunch. 

"Are you worried about the Australia game?" asked Selma as she bit into her apple. 

"Honestly, yeah, they're monsters mate" said Viviane as she scrolled through tiktok. 

"Yeah I agree with Viv, Sel" said Grace as she played subway surfers on her phone. 

"Yeah same as the other two, from the keeper, to the striker this team is amazing" you say watching Grace play and laughing at the tiktoks Viviane shows you. 

"Fuck, I forgot to post my vlog yesterday! Never mind, I'll continue it for a while before posting it tonight," you say, slapping your forehead. You ran back to your room to get the camera before turning it on and picking up the vlog where you left off. 

"Hi guys, day 3 in Australia, Melbourne to be precise, yesterday I got to spend the day with Ellie as you've seen our stories, today however it's training for Friday's match" you say as you sat down next to Selma. 

"This morning was pretty easy, because it was weight training to strengthen and warm up our muscles, and this afternoon it's little games and matches. Selma, any comments on this morning's warm-up?" you asked, pointing the camera at Selma. 

"It was fun, there was a good atmosphere," she said before returning to her apple. 

"Thank you Selma, Grace and Viv, how did you find this morning's session?" You asked the two other players in front of you. 

"It was cool", "It was exhausting" said both of them at the same time, while you showed yourself to the camera with a face filled with terror at the fact that both of them had spoken at exactly the same time. 

"Wow that was weird don't do speak at the same time again please" you say before you had to say goodbye to your vlog as lunch break had just finished.

 "Well, the break's over, so I'll see you later," you say as you turns off your camera.

It's true Look how they shine for you Look how they shine for you Look how they shine for Look how they shine for you Look how they shine for you Look how they shine

Unfortunately you couldn't finish the afternoon's training session because of a sprained ankle, so you'll have to miss the match against Australia and the 1st World Cup match against Jamaica. You were on one of the sofas in the hotel lounge, in your Olympique Lyonnais shorts and ellie's yellow jumper, when you decide to finish the day's vlog. 

"I'm back earlier than planned, I've sprained my ankle so I'll be away for at least 2 weeks, and yes I can see you coming, yes I'm still wearing ellie's jumper because I miss her and it smells like her. So that's it for yesterday's and today's vlog, be well, be good, big kisses to you tomorrow" yoou say before quickly publishing the video and falling asleep on the sofa in the yellow jumper.

Look at the stars Look how they shine for you And all the things that you do

[sunshine-theseus]

Follow | Alex Chidiac x Reader

Word count: 2.3k Summary: you hate Alex Chidiac. Until you don’t Warnings: angst, fluff, I swear I’ll try to do non-angsty stuff soon this is for @charligrantismygirlfriend - feel free to send requests

Alexandra Chidiac made me want to rip my hair out and simultaneously smash my lips against her own. She was just so full of herself and insulting and… extremely beautiful and funny. But she had a way of making me despise her without even trying.

And it seemed that wherever I went, she would follow.

The first time we’d played together outside The Matildas was in Madrid.

In the 2017/18 January transfer window, I moved from Perth Glory to play for Atletico Madrid. 7 months later and Alex was sat in the cubby next to me in the locker room, telling jokes and connecting with the team, something I’d been struggling with despite having been there significantly longer and being able to speak Spanish.

During my time at Atletico, I had become reserved and preferred to stick to only going between my house and the training grounds, even if asked to join for celebrations or team bonding. It’s when I began to hate Alex.

Then during Covid, I’d decided to move back to Australia. Melbourne City had been the closest club to my hometown that had made an offer, so I packed my bags and went back to Australia. How I’d missed the news that Alex was moving there too was beyond me, but I found myself in a similar situation as Madrid. I was excited to play with some girls I was already friends with and have people to spend time with between quarantine and games. But Alex had managed to capture everyone’s attention again. The friends I had, began to rush over to Alex instead of me and I’d be left desperately searching for a partner in warmups because they wanted to be around her.

Then she was put on loan to Melbourne Victory for the next few years and I managed to escape her presence outside of National camps and games for a while. People liked to ask why I avoided her so much, especially Tony and Sam, because “getting along with the whole team is important”. I never really had an answer.

It was really only toward the end of the World Cup that the ‘rivalry’, as I so graciously named it, began actually affecting my game play and the team as a whole.

Alex and I were paired up for some exercises, but I was stubborn. She was so annoying.

So stupid, so rude, so pretty, her smile was so bright. I don’t understand why I have a crush on someone I despise so deeply.

So, while doing some passing and skill practice, I found myself playing and passing harsher than required as Alex made small comments about my abilities. And when Alex made a joke about it to Kyra and Mini who were next to us, both of whom told me off and to get over my issues with Alex, I’d made the decision I was done.

“Do you get off on making me feel shit?” I approach Alex, my finger poking her chest.

“Do you enjoy making sure I’m alone wherever I go? Did I do something to you 6 years ago that I’m unaware of that made you feel like you had to take everyone from my life?” I could feel 36 pairs of eyes on me. Have the whole crew always sat out with us?

I don’t get much time to think about it.

“Me?! You’re the one who’s always been in some fucking mood with me. Ever since Madrid you’ve just ignored any situation where I’m around. You hate me for no reason!”

“I only ignore you because you isolate me from every single team we’re on together. You show up and take my friends away from me and then have the audacity to shit talk my playing ability while I’m right in front of you but of course I’m the bad guy here. I’ll always be the bad guy!”

I then sarcastically add, “Oh and thank you Kyra and Mini for standing up for me. It’s really appreciated”. They look at the ground.

“Maybe I wouldn’t say that shit if you didn’t let your unwarranted emotions take a hold of you. You’re sloppy.” My arm is swinging before I can think of any consequences, but it’s caught midair, and I notice the familiar ‘20’ and kangaroo tattoos adoring my captain’s fingers.

“Let’s take a fucking walk.” I’m about to protest, say that Alex deserves to have a talking to as well, but Sam starts pushing me towards the tunnel before I can get anything out.

“Dude what the fuck is going through your head. I’ve known you for 7 years and you’ve never done anything like this.” I shrug in response.

“We play England tomorrow, and you’re a consistent starter, but if you and Alex are going to squabble like this and jeopardise us as a team, you might be benched for the rest of the cup.”

“You’re fucking kidding me. Sam you can’t do that!” We’ve reached the locker room.

“Y/n, you nearly punched Alex. I might be your friend but right now I’m you’re captain. I have to do what is best for the team.”

“Yeah… right… maybe I should head back to the hotel. It’s probably best I take a break.” Sam sighs and pulls me into a hug.

“I know you feel alone and that we’re against you, but I promise we aren’t. I’m going to talk to Alex with Tony. She’ll probably be sent back with you. You should talk, like adults and teammates. If you show that you won’t be distracted tomorrow, I’ll talk to Tony about subbing you on at half time or something. I do wish you’d mentioned how you feel earlier. Like years ago, earlier.” I simply nod.

“Thanks Sammy. I really am sorry for today. The team didn’t deserve that.”

Sam pats my back before going back down the tunnel and onto the pitch to talk to Alex and Tony, leaving me to get changed and get an uber back to the hotel.

~~~~~

It’s only about 40 minutes after I get to mine and Sam’s room at the hotel that I hear a knocking on the door. At first, I think it’s someone who has the wrong room, but they don’t stop knocking and soon I’m groaning as I drag my sock clad feet to the door to look through the peep hole. And there stands a slightly distorted Alex Chidiac who seems awfully nervous as she looks up and down the hallway.

“I know you’re in there Y/n! You know Sam said we have to talk so let’s talk.”

 She goes to knock again but I’m already swinging the door open.

“Yeah whatever let’s get it over with.” We move to sit down on the two beds facing each other.

It’s silent for a moment and neither of us look at the other, fiddling with our hands and the bed sheets. Alex is the first to break the silence.

“I don’t understand why you hate me so much or why you think I’m trying to turn people against you. I was super excited to join you in Madrid in 2018, to have someone I already knew, but you were always so cold.”

How do you tell someone after 6 years that you started hating them because you were jealous? That it took you 7 months to even feel comfortable at the club, just for it to be stripped away within the first week of them joining.

“I hate you because everyone loves you so much!” she gives me a confused look.

“I mean, it took me months to start fitting in at Atletico and you just swooped in and made everyone adore you and they stopped even trying to talk to me. And then when you followed me to City, all my friends I already had, dropped me to follow you around like lost puppies. I spent years alone because you were Ms Perfect to everyone, and I wasn’t social enough or carefree or noticeable or funny. Sam was all I had, and she wasn’t even really there. I don’t know.” I rub at my eyes to stop the tears that are inevitably forming behind them.

“And then you made those comments today and Kyra and Kat said nothing to defend me, they told me to get over it, and that was it for me. If I always have to be the bad guy in everyone’s story, I’ll be the bad guy”.

Alex reaches for my hand and I don’t pull back.

“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I-” she pauses and seems to contemplate what she says next.

“What?”

“I followed you to Madrid and Melbourne because I liked you. I wanted to be with you, get to know you better. But after that year in Melbourne is seemed clear you hated me so I signed with JEF and went on loan to Victory.”

“Y- you liked me?”

“Well, it was hard not to. I still do. It was hard seeing you be so kind to everyone else, every time you played you looked so angelic, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’m sorry I made you feel like you were the bad guy. I should have talked to you about it all when we were in Madrid.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me. Please. I like you too. Like so much and I’m sorry for being so horrible and cold to y-” I’m cut off my Alex, who pulls me up and grabs my face.

She’s significantly shorter than me so I have to lean down but I kiss her, hard.

“I’d say we talked enough to please Sam and Tony, right?” she whispers against my lips as my thumb traces the light freckles on her cheeks.

“Absolutely.”

She waists no time on pulling me down on the bed and as we giggle, cuddle and kiss, we loose track of time.

Before I know it, Sam is bursting through the door.

“I’m baaack you better have talked to Chi- o…h” she stumbles over her own bag as she sees Alex curled up against me, now fast asleep, as I trace shapes on her arm.

“Ok I know I said you gotta work it out, but this isn’t what I meant.” She plops down on her bed.

“Y-  yeah I wasn’t expecting it but she has a way with words.”

“Two hours ago her ‘way with words’ made you try to punch her in the face.”

“Yeah well, things changed.”

“Stay right there! I’m taking a picture to send to the group chat.”

“What!? Sam no!”

“Oh no not the team group chat” I sigh in relief. “The one with Kristie, E.V.E and Kate (emily’s wife)”

“SAM NO!” I try to slide my arm out from under Alex to grab Sam’s phone but it��s a worthless cause when the familiar sound of a message being sent is heard.

“I’m going to kill you when Alex wakes up.”

“Yuh huh ok. I’m going to call Kristie.”

“Tell her I say hi! And I hope Sammy M is doing well.”

~~~~~

Four days pass. We got knocked out by England and Sweden, finishing fourth overall in the World Cup. We all sat on the field as we watched Sweden get their bronze medals, I held Alex close to my side as I held Sam’s hand. We keep getting so close before a medal is ripped right from our grasp and we were all beginning to get tired of it, but Sam was taking it the hardest.

“I’m so proud of you Sammy. You weren’t even sure you’d get to play at the start, but you came back and lead us this far. We’re going to get to the Olympics and win the whole fucking thing.” She kisses me on the head before getting up to hug some of the girls before trying to find Kristie and her family in the crowd.

“I’m proud of you too.” I hear Alex whisper beside me.

I pull her up and hug her tight.

“I’ll always be proud of you too Al.”

I know there is a camera next to us but I kiss her anyway. Now I have her, I won’t let go of her any time soon.

~~~~~

Alex and I spend some time alone over the short rest of our break, only going between the beach that she unreasonably hated, and her apartment. We’d met up with Sam and Kristie for a sort of double date, before they both left to America for Sam’s birthday, and bid farewell to all the other girls who had to fly back to their respective clubs.

It was my last day before I had to fly back to my club. I’d been cooking dinner for a rather helpless Alex when her arms wrapped around my waist.

“I’m going to miss you so much when you leave.” She groans as she peppers kisses across my back.

I think I feel a hint of a smile on her lips but decide not to think too far into it.

“I’m going to miss you too. Especially your lips. And your cute freckles. And you’re pretty green eyes. Every. Single. Thing.” I peck her lips after each sentence.

“I promise to call every day.” I let out a hum.

“You can barely remember to have breakfast.”

“Hey! For you I’ll remember anything.” I just smile and kiss her once more.

Tomorrow I’d have to say goodbye, unable to see her for months on end.

~~~~~

“You’re fucking kidding me!” is yelled across the Tigres locker room as our late transfer walks through the door.

It’s non other than Alexandra Chidiac. My girlfriend who I thought I’d left behind to continue out her loan for Melbourne Victory after the world cup.

She won’t stop fucking following me.

[sitizelter]

🩵Sky Full of Stars🩵

Loscar ♡ Pt.4

Pt. 4 finally here!! Sorry it took so long, but now that the season's over I can take more time to write 😭😭

╰──────── ♡⁀➷ ────────╮

The ringing of the church bells echo the streets of Melbourne, meaning it had just turned 6pm. Oscar finally comes back home after closing up the workshop, he pops a sliced apple in his mouth before trudging back to his room.

With a grunt, he throws his bag on the floor and falls onto his bed. The sunlight peers through the crack of his window, golden hour had come. He rolled over onto his back, dialling in Logan's number to videocall him.

A content sigh escapes from Logan as drowsy eyes blink open to flashing numbers signifying an incoming call. Squinting against the morning light streaming in, Oscar's cheerful face fills the display stirring a sleepy smile to his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite delinquent." Logan chuckles softly still finding his voice, rubbing the remnants of dreams from stubbled cheek.

Taking him in leisurely sprawled across rumpled sheets, Logan notes the weary lines etched onto Oscar's face.

"You look exhausted, mate. Everything all sorted at the shop?" Logan inquires gently, seeing as ever through his brave mask to the weariness beneath.

"Some... 'fans' found out I helped my dad out here. Started clobbering all over the place, got me here feeling buggered out." Oscar murmured out with a heavy sigh.

Brows furrow in concern as Oscar's admission washes over the american through the speaker. Fans can be notorious, bringing praise one moment and chaos the next without care.

Oscar swore under his breath as he massaged his temples, "Sorry Loges, y'know how I am."

"Don't you dare apologize, mate." The other says gently yet firmly, shaking his head. "I understand the pressure better than most. You've nothing to explain to me."

Holding his exhausted gaze, Logan let steadfast care shine through his own. "You did well to make it home in one piece, yeah? Try and get some rest now - I mean it, Osc. No tinkering or plotlines tonight."

A soft chuckle escapes as the american thinks to distract. "Maybe put your feet up, watch some Netflix. I can gripe at you for missed calls in the morning when you've got your spark back."

"No, wait Logan-" Oscar suddenly shoots out. He clears his throat, regaining his composure.

╰──────── ♡⁀➷ ────────╮

"Stay on call with me. Your... voice helps to clear my mind." The aussie explains. He adjusts himself on the pillows, getting comfortable.

Logan blinks in mild surprise at Oscar's outburst, unusual to such candid vulnerability from him, before melting into an easy smile. Oscar's request sends warmth spreading through his chest where stress and uncertainty once gnawed.

"Alright then, mate. You've got me." Shifting to mirror his snug position, Logan gets cozy against piled pillows and watches the other expectantly through the screen.

"Well now what do you want - me serenading you to sleep like a lullaby?" Logan teases gently to lighten the atmosphere, hiding his own concern for him. "I haven't got the pipes for it I'm afraid. But I'll talk your ear off as long as you need, Osc. That I can manage."

"Just relax and rest now, yeah? I've got you."

Oscar sighs in content, glad that the other could understand how he's feeling then. "What did you dream about last night?" The aussie asks, his voice is soft.

Logan ponders Oscar's question thoughtfully as he tries to remember what he had dreamt of the previous night. A faint smile plays at his lips, fondness evident in lowered tones.

"Actually, there was one that's stuck with me. We were back in the park near your dad's shop, remember - the one with that huge gum tree we used to climb?"

Chuckling softly at the image, Logan nestles deeper into feathery pillows and lets nostalgia's soothing warmth embrace his tired bones.

"We must've been... what- 15? 16? Sun was just starting to set, painting everything orange and rose. And we were laying in the grass, talking for hours like we used to..."

His gaze softens as it meets Oscar's through the screen. Quiet falls between, filled instead by memory's gentle refrain. For what need have words, when hearts have known each other so long?

"I'm glad it was that one," Logan whispers finally, hoping Oscar hears all he had left unsaid too.

"I'm glad you dreamt of that one too," Oscar breathes out.

"Sorry that our calls have been quite... short lately. Ugh, it doesn't feel the same, I miss us. When are you visiting again?" Oscar turns his head to look at Logan in the screen. His eyelids were half-lidded, with barely visible eyebags underneath them.

A pang of longing lances the american's chest at Oscar's weariness shining plain. He wishes nothing more than to reach through the call and gather Oscar into arms, let his head find rest upon his shoulder as days go by.

Stroking fingers tap a thoughtful rhythm upon blanketed thigh as schedule runs through his overtired mind. "Not sure offhand on exact dates... few weeks maybe?" He ventures tentatively, hating the uncertainty.

Their gaze holds tenderly through slowing blinks. "Tell you what though - why don't I shuffle things around and come next weekend instead, if you'll have me? Barge in, cook us dinner, we can put on a show and just relax, yeah?" A soft smile plays on his face, hoping the offer of sooner solace may lift spirits, if only briefly.

Oscar's eyes shined for a moment. "Yeah. Of course, next weekend would be great."

"I'll make sure to tell mom that you're staying over. Hopefully she'll make her Shepherd's pie that you love so much." Oscar teases, his playfulness making an reappearance from underneath his tired outlook. A genuine grin brightens Logan's face.

"God, I can taste it already." Logan sighs wistfully, relishing memory of flavors mingling on the tongue. "Your mum's Shepherd's pie is honestly the cure for everything bad. And her company, of course!"

Warmth blooms anew in Logan's chest at thought of familiar embraces, gentle smiles and care that emanates from the walls of Oscar's childhood home.

"Get some rest soon, mate. I'll sort the travel details tomorrow."

Oscar nods, "Mhm, G'night." He mutters out. He looks at the other through the screen again, with Logan's face being brightened up by the morning sun.

A faint smile plays once more on Logan's cheeks as fond gaze lingers warmly upon Oscar. His cares are the american's own; if that alone can offer even moment's solace, all the journeys of world are worth the walking.

"Now get some rest, darling. I'll see you soon." Logan whispers before he ends the call, with his heart so very full.

╰──────── ♡⁀➷ ────────╮

Once the call ends, it only leaves Oscar alone with his thoughts. His eyes are wide open, with his ears ringing and repeating those last few words spoken by the american.

"Darling. Did he really call me 'darling'?"

Oscar felt blush fill in his cheeks. He rolls over and buries his reddened face into his pillow. He felt like a 8th grader that had just fallen in love again, kicking his feet while blushing like crazy.

The aussie takes a minute to calm down. Logan might've only been teasing him. But what if he wasn't? What if he really meant it?

A shy grin appears on his face. He swears he isn't being delusional, more like... optimistic.

"Darling." Oscar whispers, with his heart fluttering.

╰──────── ♡⁀➷ ────────╮

[bucky-barnes-lover]

Kinktober day 16: Vaginal Fingering

Fic: Harry Styles

Harry Styles x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, Vaginal fingering, Proposal/Engagement, Poorly written smut.

746 w.c

This was supposed to be a Drabble but I got a bit carried away. Not proof read because I'm tired and it's 1 am so you'll just have to deal with the spelling mistakes/errors. P.S sorry if it's really bad

The lights flickered as I exited the stadium. Colourful feathers lay on the ground and glitter decked the seats. Happy chatter echoed throughout the building, however a couple silent tears didn't go unnoticed by me. I could tell everyone was really happy about seeing H perform his last show in Melbourne but I could also tell many of the fans were upset that the night had come to an end.

"Hi baby" I greeted, as I made my way to the dressing room at the back of the stadium.

"You sang so well tonight!" I exclaimed, planting a chaste kiss on his lips while I ran my hands through his brunette curls.

"Thanks Love, I'm so glad you could come and watch tonight." Harry admitted, returning my kiss.

Leaving him to get changed from his stage attire, I took a seat on a sofa nearby. Sarah came over to me, holding baby Scout, that she had left with her mum for the duration of the show.

"You played so well tonight Sarah" I enthused, earning a blush from the drummer.

"Thanks y/n. I'm so glad you could be here, At mine and Mitch's last show."

"I'm so sad you guys are leaving" I complained. Leaning over to give Sarah a hug and kissing baby Scout's face.

"Have fun on your break Sarah. We'll miss you here" I choked up before allowing a small sob to escape my lips.

A couple minutes later, after Sarah had scurried off to find Mitch, Harry came out of the dressing room. Dressed in a hoodie and trackies with a big smile on his face. He walked over to the sofa and took out a small velvet box out of his pocket. Kneeling down on the ground, he started,

"Y/n. You have been by my side ever since Fine Line. You have come to every single one of my Love On Tour shows in the past 3 years. You have supported me through my tough times and when I've been at my weakest. You love to cheer me on, and to make me happy. You bring the kind of joy into my world that nobody else ever has. And for this, I would love to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you with all my heart and soul. Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?" He asked as he held back tears.

I didn't know how to react. Obviously I knew the answer but the proposal had come so suddenly, I never would've guessed it would be today. Without a second thought I screamed out,

"YES H!!" "I love you with all my heart! I would love to be your wife."

A small sob escaped my lips as Harry stood up, sliding the gorgeous rose gold band on my ring finger.

He leaned in, kissing my lips passionately. Applause erupted from around us, 'Congratulations' and 'I'm so happy for you two' were heard through all the noise.

A couple hours after the proposal, Harry and I had returned to our hotel room. He had just gotten out of the shower, and I was lying on the bed in some sexy lingerie. He walked over and lay next to me on the bed. Leaning in, I kissed his lips. Within moments, it had become a full on make out sesh. Harry was grabbing my hips and grinding himself into me, I was running short of breath but didn't pull away. Moans escaped the both of us as H slid his hand down to my panties and pulled them aside. Harry broke the kiss as he whispered in my ear,

"My god darling. So wet for me already."

Sliding a finger in through my folds. My brain fogged up as he started pumping in and out of my soaking wet cunt. Going harder and harder. Removing his finger then pushing it back in without warning.

My moans got more and more desperate, and the thought of release got me screaming his name.

"Oh, H! Please, harder!" I moaned. Harry's thumb started working my clit as he inserted a second finger. He caught my lips just as I was about to let out a loud moan. Relief washed over me as my orgasm hit.

"Good girl" He said as he removed his fingers.

Harry kissed my forehead and helped clean me up. He had another shower, but this time with me. Let's just say we had some more fun in the shower. 😏

[magicshopaholic]

The Reason (Taehyung x OC)

Summary: After a moment of unexpected nostalgia, Taehyung and Dilara have a talk.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Angst, minor smut

Word count: 15.3 K

Rating: 18+ for language and brief smut

Warnings: crass language (I mean it), mentions of infidelity and blowjobs, jealousy, kissing, nipple play, fingering, sex, masturbation, minor physical altercations

A/N: It hurt to write this one. Begins a little over a week after Melbourne in the present day and contains mentions of Namjoon and Kaya. The soundtrack to this fic is one of my all-time favourites 🖤

For my disclaimer regarding the other idol who plays a role in this fic, please read the sidenote in Melbourne.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness, @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: “the reason” by hoobastank

taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

It doesn’t escape Dilara’s notice that one by one, all the members are getting back on her good side. It happens so gradually and so circumstantially that she doesn’t think much of it, not until they’re back in Italy a week later, this time in Imola, and she realises she’s not dreading seeing them as much as she was after the summer break in Belgium.

Even with Taehyung, it’s not dread she feels anymore. After the initial horror, awkwardness and forced avoidance, after seeing that absolving himself seemed to be his top priority, all the sadness and pain somewhere transformed into anger and borderline disgust. Being around him isn’t exactly difficult anymore, not the way it was before. Now, she’s just determined not to give him what he wants: a chance to apologise.

It's not easy. He's still he and she’s still she, and their history doesn't disappear just because she’s decided to torture him. There are still moments where it feels as though she might break down at any moment, demanding an explanation from him in a haze of tears.

Where the rest of the members are concerned, Dilara is still wary. Jimin is still far too loyal to Jungkook and Taehyung, the only two members she’s still consciously avoiding, to interact with her beyond pretty smiles and the occasional greeting when he catches her alone. Yoongi was never one to actively approach her anyway, choosing to talk to her only if the situation presented itself. Seokjin still seems to feel rather guilty and keeps a respectful distance, only ever asking her, for some reason, if she’s eaten. 

Namjoon is the one person Dilara honestly wishes would be less guarded around her. After the shower incident in Austria, she’d awkwardly given him an actual travel size bottle of her cocoa butter conditioner as a thank you. He'd blushed and initially refused, but eventually taken it with a bashful and dimpled smile. She doesn’t know if it's the leader in him or if, like Seokjin, he's still feeling guilty, but either way, his absence is one that genuinely feels like a loss.

That leaves Hoseok, the only person in the entire house that speaks to her completely normally, calling out her name, asking her questions, offering her food and even offering to train with her when she offhandedly mentions how much aerobic training Lexie usually did with her. It's a beautiful offer and she’s almost considering accepting it when Jungkook enters the room and conspicuously loses his smile, looking from her to Hoseok before muttering something and stepping out of the room.

It's a different kind of awkwardness with Jungkook. For one, he's the only member younger than Dilara which makes the subtle power distance that exists with the others disappear. His guilt also feels different; his hesitation in meeting her gaze, his hurry in Austria to make sure that she knew the one detail she wanted the most… all combined with the fact that they silently work out together almost every day without a single word passing between them proves it. He didn't just help his friend dump his girlfriend; he also betrayed a friend on the way - and he knows it.

On Wednesday in Imola, after a hot and tiring day consisting of way too much PR with Netflix and unnecessary paddock drama, Dilara arrives at the house. The sun has set by now but the air isn't any cooler. Even in a tank top and sweatpants with her hair tied up, the heat is palpable. All she wants is to strip, get into the shower and stay there, possibly drown herself while she’s at it.

But when she nears the house, Dilara spots the group through the window in the living room. She can’t hear them from this distance but it looks like karaoke, with Namjoon and Taehyung holding mics while Jimin and Hoseok laugh and do a ridiculous routine in sync, all four of them facing the same direction. If she enters now, she’s guaranteed to ruin the mood. It's exhausting, being this Grinch-like figure, especially after the news Max gave her today.

Somehow, amidst all the relationship drama and racing incidents, Max Verstappen has managed to find a loophole and worm his way out of this PR shitstorm they have with BTS. Apparently his contract has a clause, allowing him to cut down on PR and endorsements if he's in the running for world champion.

It's foolproof, especially since Max is very much in contention for the title. But, selfishly, it means he's gone from here, choosing instead to live out of the luxury motorhomes most of the drivers usually use around Europe. As much as she tries to resist the urge, she ices him out enough to make it known to him just how much she resents him for leaving her alone in this house.

For the icing on the cake, Christian and Helmut give her a stern lecture on "taking one for the team", partly about this stupid PR nonsense and partly because they want to switch out her power unit for this race, which can only mean an insane grid penalty.

"You're a Red Bull driver," said Helmut, thick Austrian accent sounding more severe than ever. "If you can't make it through the field from P12, you have no business being here." He'd brushed her off after that, followed by Christian who'd simply shook his head at her. Now, standing outside the house, Dilara finds she has no desire to go inside and be the odd one out once again, darting through their taller figures and shutting herself inside her room for the rest of the weekend.

Suddenly overwhelmed by how fucked up everything is, Dilara rams her fist into the punching bag hanging outside. Her knuckles sting and for a fraction of a moment, she forgets about everything else. She punches it again, and again, and again, before she takes off her stupid backpack and swings it, hitting the stupid sack with it. Every punch is punctuated with a grunt or a scream of annoyance, each more satisfying than the last. Finally, she chucks her bag down and kicks the sack, once, twice, and collapses on the ground, facing the sky and not moving, trying to catch her breath.

She sees stars. Not in her head, but actual, real stars in the sky. It's too peaceful a sight for her mood at the moment so she shuts her eyes, wondering briefly if she can just sleep here and not wake up.

A soft sound does that for her, though. It's right next to her head, like something being dropped. She opens her eyes to see Jungkook looking down at her, wearing a t-shirt and shorts which are predictably all black, hair messier than ever and his expression a mixture of concern and hesitation. He doesn't say anything, so she turns her head to see what he dropped on the ground.

When she notices the boxing gloves, she scoffs quietly and looks back up at him again. He has another pair in his hands, his long fingers fiddling with the strings in what she imagines is nervousness. His offer is clear, even if he isn't saying anything. Dilara considers it, replaying an array of phone calls and how Jungkook had ignored each of them, until she’d finally tricked Jimin into answering her.

From the way his gaze falls momentarily, huge doe eyes meeting hers, she can tell he’s thinking the same thing. After another moment of considering it, she sits up and grabs the gloves, silently getting to her feet and following him to stand in front of the punching bag. They put on the gloves and he demonstrates a few moves to her, showing her how to stand, how to move her arm, how to use her back, where to concentrate her strength.

"No, try turning from here," he corrects after a while, coming up behind her and tapping her side before holding her shoulders and turning her. "Use your back. The force should come from here so that your arm doesn't get too tired," he explains, showing her how to do it and delivering a strong punch to the bag.

"Right," mutters Dilara, nodding and brushing her sweaty bangs off her forehead. She tries the move, and all the other moves he's shown her. It works for the most part; the strength and the adrenaline keeps her mind from going towards the suckfest that was today, especially when Jungkook brings out the pads and she tries to keep up with him.

"Don't go easy on me, Jeon," she warns him breathlessly, before throwing a surprise punch that he just catches. 

Jungkook cracks a smile and for a moment, her stomach does a backflip at the world famous smile she hasn’t seen in weeks. "Not at all, Komyshan," he replies, tossing his own sweaty hair out of his eyes. "I know it’s not easy being the second strongest person in this house."

Dilara scoffs, not stopping. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean,” he mutters, eyes locked on her fists as he moves the pads in quick succession. “It’s a compliment. Oh, come on - you call that a punch?”

She doesn’t reply, partly unable to speak and partly unsure of what will come out of her mouth if she opens it. Instead she punches faster, her bangs falling in her eyes, her breath now coming in ragged bursts.

“Yeah, that’s better. Faster, faster - use your shoulders to - oh, fuck!” Jungkook’s hands, pads and all, fly up to his face, his eyes screwing shut as he covers his nose.

Dilara’s hands instantly fall to her sides, her jaw dropping. “Holy shit. Are you okay?”

He mumbles something incoherent before nodding and holding up one pad again. “I’m okay. Come on, keep going,” he instructs, his head tilted up with the other pad still covering his nose. “Come on,” he urges, waving his free hand, looking like some kind of demented windmill.

She looks at him incredulously. “Are you insane? I may have broken your nose.”

Despite the awkward angle of his head, he gives her a look. “You’re not that strong.”

“Shut up. You need to ice your face or something, Jungkook. We can do this some other -”

“No, come on, I hate leaving workouts midway.”

“We’re not going to keep boxing now.”

Jungkook groans, gingerly letting go of his face. “Why not?” he whines.

“Because I don’t want to get sued, you idiot,” snaps Dilara, knocking his hand away as he tries to stop her and moving closer to study his face. It looks alright from where she is, and she feels an unexpected bit of relief when he tries to move his nose and winces only a bit. “Can we just… I don’t know. Do something with less physical contact? Before someone thinks I did this on purpose?” she mutters.

Thankfully, he doesn’t respond to the last statement, only rolling his eyes and heading back into the gym. He returns with a shotput ball, easily four or five kilos, and they start tossing it back and forth, each catch working her arms, her back, her glutes and her quads. Finally, when they’re done and Dilara can't possibly move another muscle, she sighs and bends down, resting her hands against her knees.

"You're good," he comments after returning the gloves to their original place, running a hand through his jet black hair.

"Of course I am," she pants, straightening up. "Do you know how much strength we need to resist the G-force through every turn?" She frowns and tilts her head. “How’s your face?”

"Fine. The pain’s almost gone.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m telling you, it’s not that bad.” He smirks. “You’re not that strong,” he repeats.

She gives him a look. “Next time, catch me when I’m actually working out and not after a shitty day in the paddock, little boy,” she informs him. “We’ll see who’s the second strongest.”

“Deal.” Jungkook flashes her a toothy grin, and this time she can see relief in it as well. It reminds her instantly of why he might be feeling relieved and once again, the air is awkward.

“Anyway,” she begins after a moment, picking up her bag from where she’d abandoned it. “Thanks, for, uh…” She gestures to the workout gear.

Jungkook nods, eyes wide and anxious as he watches her leave. Just as she’s climbing the porch, he speaks again. “Dilara,” he calls. When she turns, he visibly hesitates. His expression reminds her of Jimin’s when he’d apologised, but a moment later he changes tacks. 

“Yeah?”

“Don’t box without gloves.”

“Got it. Go ice your face.”

—

Tae [01:34] Jungkook

Jungkook [01:35] Yeah

Taehyung [01:35] Are you awake?

Jungkook [01:35] No, I’m sleep texting

Jimin [01:36] What’s happening

Jungkook [01:36] Why are you texting from the other room

Taehyung [01:36] Because Yoongi hyung is asleep in my room

Jimin [01:37] Yeah Hobi hyung is asleep in mine

Jungkook [01:37] So? Jin hyung is asleep in mine And how did we all end up in different rooms??

Taehyung [01:38] Unimportant I think Dilara is in the living room so we have to text

Jungkook [01:39] You’re avoiding her now?

Taehyung [01:40] No She’s avoiding me And if I have to watch her leave a room because of me again I think I might kill myself

Jimin [01:41] Since when do you call her Dilara?

Taehyung [01:41] Since she asked me to

Jungkook [01:41] Ouch

Jimin [01:41] She did?

Taehyung [01:42] Yeah, when she hurt her ankle So she was a bit preoccupied to realise she was ripping my heart out

Jungkook [01:43] Damn hyung

Taehyung [01:44] Forget it Are you two friends now?

Jungkook [01:44] I have no idea honestly But I’m leaning towards no

Taehyung [01:45] You were boxing with her

Jungkook [01:45] I was just helping her out

Jimin [01:45] Wait whaaat? Seriously?

Taehyung [01:46] Yeah, before dinner

Jungkook [01:47] That’s it though She was having a bad day and taking it out on the punching bag But she would’ve hurt herself the way she was doing it With bare fists

Taehyung [01:49] Why did she have a bad day?

Jungkook [01:49] I didn’t ask

Taehyung [01:49] Why not?

Jungkook [01:50] She hates me hyung

Taehyung [01:50] Apparently not

Jungkook [01:51] She’s still mad at me though The hyungs apologised to her which is why she’s sort of talking to them

Jimin [01:52] I apologised too

Taehyung [01:52] You did?

Jungkook [01:53] Wait what?

Jimin [01:53] In Austria

Jungkook [01:53] 😱

Taehyung [01:54] Why am I only hearing about this now?

Jungkook [01:54] What did you say?

Jimin [01:55] That I was sorry I was the one that lied to her face Well, on the phone And I hate it when people are mad at me

Taehyung [01:57] What did she say?

Jimin [01:57] Nothing really I don’t think she was really prepared for it But she still seemed mad

Taehyung [01:58] At you?

Jimin [01:59] Not me so much

Taehyung [02:00] So... me What else did she say?

Jimin [02:00] Nothing

Taehyung [02:00] Really?

Jungkook [02:01] Jimin hyung

Jimin [02:02] She thought Taehyung sent me But I told her he didn’t

Jimin [02:03] I told her you still love her

Taehyung [02:04] You did?

Jungkook [02:04] Hyung 😬😬😬

Jimin [02:04] It’s true isn’t it?

Taehyung [02:05] What did she say to that?

Jimin [02:05] I don’t remember

Taehyung [02:05] Liar

Jimin [02:06] She didn’t believe me

Jimin [02:07] Taehyung She was angry and confused It doesn’t mean anything

Jungkook [02:10] Taehyung hyung?

Taehyung [02:12] So you don’t know why she had a bad day today?

Jungkook [02:12] Um no I didn’t want to make it worse by asking her

Taehyung [02:13] But she might need to talk

Jungkook [02:13] Not with me

Taehyung [02:14] Who else is here? You two were friends Although it seems like she and Jimin are too

Jimin [02:15] Taehyung It’s not like that And I don’t even know if she’s forgiven me

Jungkook [02:16] She has other friends hyung Her trainer Lexie?

Taehyung [02:17] She’s not here Have you seen her around? One of her parents is sick so she’s back home in America

Jungkook [02:18] How do you know

Taehyung [02:18] She told Namjoon hyung Apparently she’s telling everyone everything Except me And yes, I know it’s my fault

Jungkook [02:20] What about Max Verstappen?

Taehyung [02:21] He’s her competition, she would never talk to him And anyway, his solution is probably just to get her drunk

Jimin [02:22] Taehyung I think you should try talking to her again

Taehyung [02:23] That’s the worst idea

Jungkook [02:24] I think Jimin hyung is right You’re so worried about her She’ll know you still care It might even be a good thing

Taehyung [02:26] How could I fuck up this much? How could I do it? How did I put her in this position? Fuck fuck fuck

Jimin [02:29] Taehyung, don’t She’ll forgive you eventually Even if it takes time

Taehyung [02:30] What if she doesn’t?

Jungkook [02:30] She will hyung A few weeks ago she wouldn’t even look at any of us Now she’s talking and all

Taehyung [02:31] Will you box with her again?

Jungkook [02:31] If she wants to

Taehyung [02:31] She won’t ask Did it seem like she felt better afterwards?

Jungkook [02:32] Yeah She smiled and said thanks

Jimin [02:32] She smiled?

Jungkook [02:32] Like a tired smile

Taehyung [02:33] I don’t even remember what her smile looks like

Jimin [02:33] Taehyung…

Jungkook [02:33] Wait

Jungkook [02:34] [picture]

Jungkook [02:34] It’s a nice smile

Jimin [02:34] Jungkook!!!!

Jungkook [02:35] What?

Taehyung [02:36] I can’t do this Goodnight

—

Pain. It's pain, but a good pain. It's a stretch, like muscles that haven't been used in a while, like a stinging on the brink of turning sensual. She tightens her fingers and feels her nails sink into skin, followed by a hiss, partly of pain but mostly of pleasure. 

She’s wet. So wet. Her thighs feel sticky and the soft, almost silent sound of fingers against her clit are barely audible over the sighs and moans. The stretch is worse this time but she’s filled up, so filled up…

"Taehyung..."

He pauses only long enough to toss his long hair out of his eyes, before looking down at her with such lust in his gaze that she wonders for a moment if he’s even aware of what he’s doing to her. 

"Say it again." His voice is deep as he commands her softly. His hips move faster now, and every thrust is a whole new sensation of having her walls wrapped tightly around him.

"Say - say what?" She knows what. She can say it - she wants to say it. But she wants him to ask again.

Swiftly, in one movement, he picks up her left leg and throws it over his shoulder before lowering himself onto her. The stretch in her hips feels so good, so wonderfully colliding with how he's fucking her in this new angle, that she lets out a whimper.

"You know what. Say it. Tell me who's fucking you so good." In contrast to his lewd demands, his voice is soft, like deep velvet, his lips brushing her earlobe and his warm breath on her neck.

A particularly deep thrust makes her moan, her fingers threading through his thick hair and clutching at it. "Fuck, don't stop…" 

He doesn't, but he moves his head lower and takes her hard, slightly sore right nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, lips brushing it, kissing it… everything apart from what he knows she really wants.

She pulls his hair slightly, urging him. When she feels his hair brush her breast, she looks down to see him gazing up at her, big eyes challenging. She sighs and drops her head back on the pillow. "God… Tae, please," she begs, admitting defeat. She just wants the sweet finish.

She hears his satisfied hum at her voice before he lowers his head again and sucks on her nipple. She moans louder as he increases his rhythm, straightening up a bit to support himself better. His hands reach up to knead at her breasts before he lowers one of them to between her legs, long fingers finding her clit again.

"Fuck, you're -" He grunts, breaking off to momentarily close his eyes, and she knows he's close, too. "You're so beautiful, Lara, fuck…" 

His fingers move faster now and she knows she’s seconds away. "Tae, I'm - "

He nods, long hair falling into his eyes. "Cum all over my cock, baby… fuck, I want to see you cum…" He squeezes her nipple with his fingers and she lets out one last -

"Min Yoongi!"

Like the sound of a gunshot, Kim Seokjin's voice wakes her up with a jerk. She sits up suddenly, wondering for a moment if something’s wrong. Her breathing slows down when she registers silhouettes through the curtain on her window, recognising Seokjin, Yoongi and Jungkook, running around with what looks like a basketball in the backyard.

Sighing in relief and annoyance, she realises her legs are still trembling. With a throbbing in her core, she recalls the dream, shutting her eyes when she remembers who the subject was… and what he was doing to her. The thought alone sends another wave of heat through her and she involuntarily squeezes her thighs together.

Dilara checks her phone for the time and sighs. She doesn't need to be at the paddock for another hour and a half - or, rather, they don't. Today is another day of rigorous PR, both with F1 and BTS. They are to accompany her to the paddock, where this time, they will take turns driving fast cars. Thankfully, all she has are a few interviews and a couple of quiz-type things, mainly with Max, so as far as she’s concerned, he's the only person she needs to really interact with.

The tingling still hasn't gone away… she closes her eyes and, before she knows it, she’s lain back down on the bed. Just for a moment, she tells herself, snaking her hand down into her underwear, cursing softly when she feels how wet she still is. She hasn’t got properly laid in ages; he may have started her off, but there's nothing that says he needs to be there while she finishes, right?

But that resolve goes to shit fairly quickly, especially when the moment she closes her eyes, a familiar, beautiful face comes into view, jaw clenched, eyes heavily-lidded under his bangs, lean and golden torso within reach…

Dilara finishes in under a minute, biting back a moan and feeling only partly spent. The other part feels a bit glum, if she’s being honest, not to mention disgusted that after everything, he can still make her climax faster than ever. When she thinks about what his reaction would be if he knew, all traces of her orgasm disappear and she hurries out of bed, needing to shower this whole sex dream away.

It doesn’t get better after that. When she reaches the paddock, trying to brush off Max who comes at her with an apologetic hug for abandoning her with the group, but eventually giving in, she discovers that while she’s brought BTS, he’s brought Kelly Piquet. It takes a chorus of aahs from the bunch of the boys behind her to realise that not only has she arrived in a blur of shiny hair and red lipstick, but Penelope Kvyat has made her first appearance in this half of the season as well.

Predictably, all through filming the PR gimmick, Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, and Taehyung most of all, are obsessed with her. Penelope is an adorable, lively child and the undivided attention she’s getting from the boys just makes her more so. Kelly is beyond thrilled, too, showing off her daughter and beaming with heartwarming pride, especially when any of the boys does something to make her giggle and laugh.

Dilara tries her hardest not to pay attention. She’s not particularly drawn to kids and neither, ironically, is Max himself. P is sweet, though, so Dilara can’t help but engage with her a bit when she first arrives, especially since she recognises her and runs towards her, squealing “Dilala!” before hugging her legs with her tiny arms. Even though Dilara prefers dogs doing it, she kneels and hugs P back, asking her exactly two questions she always asks kids before relying on the more kid-friendly people to take over.

Even after the PR shoot, the boys hang around, playing silly games with P, dancing with her and just making her laugh. Towards the end it’s just Jimin and Taehyung, both of whom look at her with such wonder and affection that Dilara is half-tempted to film it and release it on Twitter, watching the carnage around the world as she stands back and watches.

It’s the first time that Dilara has been around Taehyung for this long since Spa without him trying to approach her. He already seems so in love with Penelope, his boxy grin permanently etched on his face as he plays hopscotch with her. Nearby, Kelly looks on fondly as her daughter runs around.

She’s never seen him around kids, but now that she is… it doesn’t surprise her at all. Dilara watches him while she waits for the reporters to set up their cameras for her and Max’s interview, a strange ache in her chest. She can’t fully put her finger on it; it’s not love, or any kind of sadness. It’s almost nostalgic, as though if the smallest domino hadn’t caused a landslide of events, this exact moment would see a world of difference. She searches, half-heartedly, for the anger in her but it’s just too tiring.

Eventually, she gives up on hating him for a few minutes, watching with a tightness in her throat how happy he sounds when he laughs, his gigantic smile when P reaches up to fiddle with his fringe, how tall and limber he looks when he picks her up and spins her around. 

“You know, you can still talk to him.”

Dilara snaps her head around and almost pulls a muscle. Next to her, Yoongi casually sits down on the pavement and stretches his legs out, giving her a brief and unreadable look.

“I don’t -”

“You were smiling.”

“No, I wasn’t,” she says immediately, suddenly realising he’s right and hoping no one else noticed. “And it doesn’t matter. Talking’s not going to change anything.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ll feel better. You know he’ll keep trying, anyway.”

She does know. He’s stubborn, so he’ll keep trying. He doesn’t want to feel like a bad person, so he’ll keep apologizing. He gets jealous, which explains the flash of blond she’d seen in the kitchen window when she and Jungkook were boxing together. He loves kids, so he’ll indulge them all day long. 

“He hasn’t changed,” she murmurs, realising too late that she’s said it out loud.

“People don’t change in a few months,” says Yoongi. “Even people who’ve done the stupidest things,” he adds in a mutter, his eyes on Taehyung.

It’s not exactly what Dilara means, but she doesn’t voice it. It’s a dull, slightly painful realisation for her, because acknowledging her feelings doesn’t make them any less over. If anything, she’s looking forward to hearing him out even less now, now that she’s actually let herself think about him for more than thirty seconds without cursing him or crying.

At that moment, another familiar figure comes up behind them.

“Dude,” says Max, taking a seat on her other side, “are you just going to keep staring at your ex until your uterus explodes? Because it’s getting really obvious.”

Dilara chokes, ignoring Yoongi’s roll of the eyes; she doesn’t think he particularly takes to Max’s brand of frat boy commentary. “What are you - I wasn’t looking at -” Her stuttering only makes things worse and when Taehyung suddenly glances in their direction, his face softening when his eyes meet hers momentarily, she feels her heart skip a disproportionate beat. “Don’t be an idiot, Verstappen,” she mutters, standing up and dusting herself off before tugging at his t-shirt. “Come on, the interview’s starting.”

It's impossible to stop thinking about it, though. Even when they get back, the image of a carefree, happy, almost childlike Taehyung haunts her. It stays with her all day and before she knows it, Dilara’s heading to the lounge in the evening where she knows all the guys are.

Standing outside, she takes a deep breath, wondering if she’s really about to do this. She forces herself to think about how he looked earlier today with P, happy and laughing, so similar to how he’d looked in a field of puppies once upon a time. Before she can change her mind, she knocks.

It takes a few moments; the door opens to reveal Jungkook, eyes wide in surprise. Behind him, the others are frozen, barring Namjoon and Yoongi, the former shaking his head and the latter sparing her a glance before going back to his phone. Giving Jungkook a nod of acknowledgement and a polite hint of a smile, she looks straight at Taehyung in his white CELINE t-shirt, standing behind the sofa.

“Can I talk to you?” Dilara is careful to reveal nothing in her question or her tone. Judging by his frown and momentary hesitation, she’s succeeded.

“Yeah,” he says finally, as though pulling himself out of a trance. She nods and turns around to leave, glancing back when she reaches the front door to see him right behind her, pulling on a black jumper.

They head out to the backyard - or she heads out and he follows her, trailing a couple of steps behind. Dilara stops where the path to the gym begins and leans against the railing. He leans on the one opposite her, a good ten feet between them. Now that she’s finally in front of him, her words seem to fail her. She has to remind herself that right now, she has the power in this dynamic. 

“So… why did you want to come outside?” he asks after a moment. He sounds doubtful, and she realises she hasn’t said anything yet.

Dilara shrugs, not knowing where to look. “Too many ears in there. And out here for that matter,” she adds. When he frowns, she raises her eyebrows and tilts her chin towards the house. He turns and they see three or four faces hurriedly disappear from the window.

She half-chuckles while Taehyung curses under his breath, slowly turning back to her. “How are you?” he asks. The question is innocent enough, but his tone burns with curiosity and - she isn’t sure - concern.

“Same old,” she answers. Before he can use this excuse to chit-chat, she exhales. “You said you wanted to explain.” She nods. “So… explain.”

All traces of his smile fade and he swallows, clearly knowing that this is where they were headed all along. For a few moments, he says nothing, just looking at the ground as he presumably gathers his thoughts. Then, he looks up, looking nervous but determined.

"Dilara, I -" He breaks off, sounding rather like he hasn't thought of what to say beyond these two words. She’s in no hurry, though. For once, she feels calm.

"First of all, I'm… God, I'm so sorry, Dilara, I'm so -"

"Stop," she interrupts, shaking her head. "Just… stop. This isn't… I don't want to hear you apologise." Dilara looks up to see his devastated face looking confused. "You said you wanted to explain. I assumed you meant… how it happened."

For a moment, it seems like he's going to argue. But then he licks his lips and nods, and she braces herself for the worst.

"I… we -" He huffs in frustration, and she knows it's because he's unable to think in English in a situation like this. "It was - it was a bad few months, Dilara. We were being overworked to death and you and I couldn't - we weren't… we didn't get time. Ever."

She says nothing. She knows what he's talking about but the last thing she wants to do right now is agree with him and give him an out he doesn't deserve. 

"I know that doesn't make it okay. I know that." He shakes his head and runs his hand through his messy blond hair. "And I didn't - I wasn't… I had no intention of cheating on you, Dilara. I didn't want anyone else, ever. It was just… it was so busy and I was so angry that I couldn't talk to you and I missed you and it was just -" He breaks off, pressing the heels of his palms to his forehead. "I started feeling so far away from you and I hated it, I hated thinking we were going to be one of those couples that just - just drifted apart and fell out of love or -"

"So this was better?" Dilara can't help it. It almost sounds like an excuse and she’s not about to accept one.

"No, that's not what I meant, Dilara… come on, you know it was hard. And I was trying everything I could but it wasn’t enough and I didn't know what else to do and then… and then…"

The tone of his voice tells her what's coming. She swallows and pulls her hoodie tighter around herself, suddenly wondering if she’s ready to hear this.

Taehyung sighs shakily. "Jennie and I -" He breaks off abruptly and Dilara realises she’s automatically looked away at the mention of the name. "She - we've known each other for a while. Not well, of course, but… we've met at award shows and stuff and - and we were at a party and we were all drinking and…" His voice cracks and it looks like he's about to cry. "It was - it meant nothing. Not a thing. I promise you -"

"What happened?" she interrupts. When he frowns, she stands her ground. "What happened with her? What did you do?"

She can see it dawn on his face, what she’s asking. "I - are you serious?" he asks in horror.

"Yeah. I want to know." I want this to be as hard for you as it is for me, Kim Taehyung.

“I - that’s not a good idea.”

“I don’t care. I want to know.” Dilara holds his gaze. “You kissed her. Did you use tongue? Did you take off her top? Suck her tits?” She’s being brutal and extremely crass, but it’s the only way she’s going to make it through this confrontation without breaking.

Taehyung looks tortured. “Dilara, don’t…”

“Fine. I’ll go first. You know I went out with Jaden, right? Do you want to know what I did with him? Well, he actually did suck my tits when we went back to his room, but before that he kissed me in -”

She gets interrupted when Taehyung swears loudly, eyes blazing and looking livid. “I don’t want to fucking know!”

“Then tell me.”

"Dilara…" He warns through gritted teeth and she knows she’s lit a fuse. Good. Get angry. Bring it, Kim. When she doesn't respond, he squeezes his eyes shut and sighs before opening them, glaring at her as though telling her she’s asked for it. 

"You really want to know? We - we made out, okay? She kissed me and I - I wanted to push her away but… I kissed her back and my hands, uh… went up her -” He breaks off, wincing, but Dilara doesn’t say anything. “... and I… and then she started unbuttoning my jeans and then she got on her knees and sucked me off until - no, Dilara, I’m sorry, please don't cry, baby…"

The tone of his voice changes instantly and she can hear the guilt washing over him. She feels him gently pull her by the shoulder to face him but she flinches out of his grasp again. 

"Don't touch me!" she snaps hoarsely, sniffing and stepping back. "I’m just… God, I fucking - hate you!” she shouts suddenly, pushing him back by the shoulders. “I hate you so, so much!” she sobs, continuing to push him backwards, hating how he takes it in silence before his hands come up to hold her wrists, his strength overpowering hers for once. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, baby…”

Dilara can’t hear him. Physically, his voice sounds like she’s underwater because all she can do is picture it, picture the tall and beautiful idol - she can’t recall her face for the life of her, but imagines her tall and slender -  getting down on her knees, adjusting a flowy dress, looking up at him with sexy eyes as she unbuckles his belt and pulls down his trousers… Dilara barely registers Taehyung bringing her into his chest, murmuring wrecked, desperate apologies in her hair, languages blurring into each other. 

She can’t stop; it’s like a movie rolling in her head. Did Jennie palm him through his underwear first? She pictures him straining against black material, head tilted back as he lets out a throaty groan, a glass of whiskey in one hand. Dilara imagines her pulling his underwear down, taking him in her mouth, his large, angry length, bobbing her head, his fingers tangling in her hair… she lets out another shaky sob before she realises what she’s doing and with a strength she rarely uses outside her car, she pushes him away.

Taehyung stumbles backwards, taken off guard. Ignoring the shocked expression and how the tip of his nose is already reddening, Dilara angrily wipes whatever tears have escaped down her face. “Go on,” she snarls. When he sniffles, she stomps her foot. “Goddamnit, Kim! She sucked you off - what happened after? Did you fuck her? And you may as well tell me the truth because believe me, this can’t get any worse.”

He swallows. "I didn’t. I - I swear,” he says immediately, and Dilara believes him. When she raises her eyebrow at him expectantly, he shrugs. “Well, I - I mean, that was it," he says lamely, shrugging and stepping away. "I realised what I was doing and - and I just got the hell out of there. I felt so terrible, Dilara, you have no idea."

“Did you cum?” she asks quietly, looking at his feet. The silence is so long and deafening that the answer is obvious. She closes her eyes as her heart sinks.

“It meant nothing,” he whispers dismally. “I don’t even remember it. It didn’t mean a thing, Dilara.”

"Meant enough to date her after,” she mutters, unable to get the image out of her mind of him finishing in someone else’s mouth, eyes closed, a frown on his forehead, mouth open in ecstasy, emitting a low and raspy grunt that always echoed in the room...

"It wasn't like that… Dilara, I didn't know how to face you after that. I was so ashamed - I felt like such an asshole." Taehyung pauses, as though expecting her to agree with him. When she says nothing, he continues, bottom lip trembling now. "I couldn't believe what I'd done and I just needed - I just needed some time to figure out how to tell you and I…" He looks up at her and shakes his head, looking completely devastated. "I'm so sorry, Lara, I should've -"

"Jesus, stop apologising!" Dilara turns away from him, more angry than sad right now. "What the hell was I supposed to do while you were figuring it out? That didn’t matter to you?”

"I handled it horribly, I know. I knew I was going to hurt you and I -" He sighs, running a hand through his hair again. "I know I did anyway. But I swear, Dilara, I was going to tell you. I was going to tell you and do whatever it took to fix it. I didn't want to end it… I didn't want to lose you."

But you have. She doesn't need to say it - he knows. It lingers, unspoken, between them. 

"But I guess I took too long…" His gaze falls and she hears him sniffle. "Jennie came to our studio and everything and we talked about it and we decided nothing more was going to happen, that we weren't… but then the article came out and I knew I was fucked. The moment I saw it I told Big Hit to put out a statement and I called you but I could never get through and then I got your package and -"

"And then you started dating her," she finishes for him, not finding it necessary to tell him that his tokenistic phone call means nothing to her, that blocking him achieved more than just rejecting his calls. 

"I…" Taehyung rubs the back of his neck, looking uneasy. "It wasn't like that. It wasn't… a relationship. Like a real one. We just - I mean, it was already public and I - I didn't want everything to have been for nothing."

Dilara stares at him. "You - what? Are you kidding me?"

"No, I just mean that -"

"What the hell do you mean by everything?" she exclaims, dropping her hands to her sides. "Nothing happened to you - you're the one who -"

"I know and I hate what I did, but I never wanted us to be over, Lara -”

“I told you to stop calling me that!” she shouts, wanting to throw something. From the corner of her eye, she sees figures at the window again but she can’t be bothered about that right now. “You thought dating her was going to - what? Make the whole thing worth it?”

“Of course not - how can you say that? I fucked up, but I - I want to make it up to you, I - I know this couldn’t have been easy for -”

“Make it up to me?” she repeats, cutting him off again. “How? With your Starbucks coffee runs and pity trips to the medic? Save it, alright? I don’t want you to make it up to -” 

“That’s not what I mean, Dilara! Come on, you - you won’t even let me apologise!” Taehyung cries, and this time the tremble in his voice is unmistakable. He’s frustrated and crying and, she realises right then, that she’s crying too. He walks up to her and tries to hold her face. “Dilara, I’m so sorry -”

“I don’t want your apologies,” she snarls quietly, pushing him away again. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Don’t you get it? Not after what you did.”

To her surprise, he nods and takes a step back. “I know,” he admits, sounding crestfallen. “I know what I did was unforgivable and - and cowardly and…” He meets her gaze, eyes glistening. “Lara, I love -”

“Fuck you.”

He breaks off abruptly and she feels his hand grab her wrist, stopping her where she’s walking away already.

“This was a mistake,” she spits, yanking her hand out of his. “Just… leave me alone.” Ignoring his shout of frustration, Dilara runs back inside, furiously wiping away her tears at the realisation that no matter what, nothing is going to change for her when it comes to Kim Taehyung.

---

The next morning, on the first day of Free Practice in Imola, Dilara is out of the house before anyone else has even woken up. She reaches the paddock at seven a.m in workout gear and goes for a run around the track; even in the empty circuit, she feels far more at home here than back at the house she’s actually living in.

Dilara blasts the music in her earphones to the highest volume, wanting to give herself no opportunity to think because she knows exactly where her mind will go if given the chance. She’d already spent an hour last night crying into her pillow before finally falling asleep - without dinner. When she’d woken suddenly to a notification from Lexie in another time zone, she’d sneaked out to the kitchen and scarfed down a bowl of cereal with cold milk, reflecting forlornly about how much of a disaster the previous evening was.

One round of the track is as much as she can manage without exhausting herself too much. She reaches the Red Bull garage, satisfyingly sweaty, and takes off my earphones as she heads to the water cooler for a drink before her shower.

“Hey, stranger.”

She whips around, startled, and her stomach flips uncomfortably. “Jaden… hey.”

Jaden gives her a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Did I scare you?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Dilara shakes her head, suddenly conscious of what a mess she must look like. "I just didn't expect anyone else to be here this early."

"We're tweaking the power unit on Max's car," he explains, rocking back on his heels. "We need to get started early if we plan to get it done by FP."

She nods, realising a second later that she has no response. It's not that it's awkward, per se; one date is too less of a history to warrant anything other than cordial friendliness, especially when she’d broken things off with him so long ago. Right after the Korean GP, to be precise. She’d run into him in the paddock right after receiving the horrific news of Red Bull’s latest PR plan, and she’d decided to just nip this thing in the bud before it got too complicated.

Jaden had displayed more surprise than Dilara thought warranted. Since she couldn't tell him about the ex-boyfriend drama, she’d had to rely on simply sticking to the date and the fact that it wouldn't reflect well on either party if it got out that a driver and mechanic were a thing. He’d tried to argue, citing that they’d sneak around if they had to, that he'd help her through it.

She hadn’t thought much of the offer, especially since she’d succeeded in hiding her relationship with a BTS member from the whole world, but eventually Jaden relented. She could tell he was disappointed even if he did try to hide it, attempting to remind her that should she change her mind, he was right here.

Now, being alone with him for the first time since then, Dilara genuinely can't remember if she was ever really attracted to him at all. She’d snogged him… but then again, she’d been in a very vulnerable state of mind, with a lot of her thoughts occupied by a different man.

"No gym at the hotel?" He gestures to her physical appearance and she realises she hasn’t replied to his previous statement.

"Oh, um…" Nothing good can come of telling him the truth. "Yeah, no, there's just something about running on the track, you know? Almost like a mini track walk," she adds, confident in her fib.

"Huh," he nods, but she can tell he isn't really listening. "So… how have you been?" 

"Same old," she answers safely, feeling a rush of deja vu. "Not a lot going on for a twenty-two race calendar."

"No boyfriend?" He asks teasingly, but she can sense the curiosity behind the question.

"That would be a no," she tells him, now shuffling away. “Look, I need to go and - and shower,” she says quickly, gesturing to herself and pointing vaguely in the direction of the changing rooms. “I’ll see you around.”

Dilara leaves before he can say anything else, but he finds her again later, less than an hour before FP 1. It’s a bit weird this time, though; he’s not mean in any way, but the friendliness seems much more staged. 

She’s warming up in the back, earphones in with one eye on the screen and barely paying attention to the commentators debating today’s session, when she looks up and sees him at the doorway. She frowns, still in a plank position. 

“Oh. Hey.” When he doesn’t say anything, she prods hesitantly. “Did you need something?”

Jaden shrugs. He’s dressed in his fireproof suit, just like her, with the overalls unzipped and hanging around his waist. “I was hoping to…” He trails off and sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, I’m not… sure, really.”

Dilara swallows, resting her knees on the ground and standing up. “What’s up, Jaden?” she asks cautiously.

He licks his lips, apparently considering his words. He still looks like Kai from EXO; she’d thought that when she’d first met him at the fashion show in London and she still can’t shake the comparison from her mind.

“I wanted to know if… if you’d maybe want to go out again… with me.”

“Um… Jaden, we - we talked about this,” she reminds him, the anxiety already making her heart race uncomfortably. “It’s just not a good time and it’s - it’s not a good idea. So, I’m sorry, but… no.”

Jaden shifts on his feet, a frown creasing his forehead. “I hear you. But,” he begins, and her heart sinks, “those reasons… I just don’t know what they mean. I mean, did I, you know… did I do something that wasn’t -”

“Jaden,” she interrupts, now feeling really hassled. “It’s nothing to do with you, alright? I’m just not dating.”

“It’s just kind of confusing,” he continues after a moment. “Walking around the garage. Being a mechanic and seeing the driver every day, not knowing what’s going on inside her head.”

Dilara wants to frown incredulously but she holds herself back. “Good thing you’re on Max’s pit crew,” she points out finally.

Jaden gives a hollow chuckle and takes a step forward. “I just want to know -”

At that moment, the door behind her opens. 

“Dilara, can I -” Taehyung stops when he sees she’s not alone and from the slight shuttering of his eyes and hardened jaw, she can tell he recognises Jaden. Standing in the doorway in just tan trousers and a black t-shirt, Taehyung looks absolutely breathtaking. He recovers in a second, slipping his hands casually into the pockets of his slacks and face going blank, smooth and impassive as always. “Can I have a word? It’s about PR.”

He’s lying. She’d know it even if she wasn’t sure they have no PR right now. Kim Taehyung’s a good actor, but she knows what the slightly upward tilt of his chin means, or the normally big eyes that are suddenly half-lidded. But right now, Dilara doesn’t care if he is. They may be as estranged as ever, but right now she’d choose being around him over Jaden.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Dilara turns back to Jaden, registering just before doing so that Taehyung didn’t even seem surprised at her agreement. “I need to, um…”

“Right, of course.” Nodding and looking slightly annoyed, Jaden backs up and goes out the door he came from, closing it behind him.

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, only to turn back and see Taehyung standing three feet away from her. “Jesus, you know, I just - I don’t have time for this right now. I have free practice in a bit,” she informs him hurriedly, starting to walk towards the coffee machine, but he stops her.

“Wait, what?” He looks confused. “You just said okay.”

Dilara scoffs. “Please, I just did that so I could get away from him,” she mutters, picking up a paper cup from the stack.

“Why?” Taehyung’s tone is sharp this time and, if she’s not mistaken, laced with concern. “What did he do?”

She finally looks up at him, eyes widening. “How is that any of your business?”

“Okay, fine, it’s not,” he agrees quickly, coming to stand next to her. “I just want to talk about last night, okay? Can we - “

“No, absolutely not.” 

“Dilara, please, I just -”

“No. Just stop, okay? Look, you have to -”

A third person enters the room just then in the form of Max Verstappen, who nonchalantly moves to her other side to use the coffee machine. Dilara turns her attention back to Taehyung.

“You have to stop this. You have to stop talking to me like we’re together because we’re not. So can you -” She breaks off when his gaze darts to Max and he bites his lip before looking back at her, shaking his head a little. 

Dilara scoffs in disbelief. “What, are you afraid Max is going to hear? Do you really think he gives a fuck? Hey, Max,” she says loudly, turning to him. “Do you care that I was stupid enough to date a world famous popstar who got his cock sucked by another girl and then ghosted me till I got the message?”

Next to her, Max’s eyes flit up above her head to Taehyung momentarily. “No,” he says dryly, sounding like he genuinely means it, before reaching for the milk.

She turns back to Taehyung. “See?”

“Dilara…”

“No, stop. Stop seeking me out, stop giving me those eyes,” she says firmly. “Just stop talking to me. We’re done.”

Taehyung simply sighs as she picks up her coffee and moves around him to leave. Just before the door closes behind her, she hears Max mutter, “Race weekend is tough on everyone, mate.”

Thankfully, the most stubborn man Dilara has ever known actually listens to her this time and doesn’t approach her again the rest of the day. FP 1 goes about as well as she can hope, but the heat is something she knows is affecting all the drivers a fair bit. Dilara heads outside during a few minutes of rare breeze, sitting in the shade with a bottle of cold water.

She’s there for less than a minute when she sees a different Kim approaching her, expression one of chaotic calm. Dressed in a checked shirt over a white t-shirt, sneakers and a baseball cap, Kim Namjoon looks like he’s ready to go on a hike at a moment’s notice. 

Even though they’re in a part of the paddock that isn’t accessible to the public, Dilara spots a couple of girls in Aston Martin uniforms point and break into furious whispers before running away. From Namjoon’s embarrassed chuckle, she knows he’s seen them, too.

“Does it ever get tiring?” she asks wryly, shifting slightly to make room for him as he sits next to her. “Knowing that wherever you go, there’s a thousand girls who’d like to show you a good time?”

“Nah, I kind of just ignore it now,” he answers, voice deep and comforting. “I have a girlfriend. Kind of eclipses the thousands of girls,” he says sincerely.

Dilara nods, the semi-romantic deep, deep down inside her knowing what he means. “It would break their hearts if they knew.”

“Guess it’s a good thing they don’t.” He shrugs. “It’s not worth the hassle.”

“Are you here to defend your friend to me?” she asks him, trying not to sound too wary and keeping her eyes trained on a grassy patch on the ground.

Namjoon bites his lip and looks at the ground, long hair covering his face. “No. I want to apologise,” he says after a moment. He waits for a few seconds, as though waiting for her to process the words. “I know I didn’t directly do anything to you. But I didn’t… not do anything either. And I’m sorry, Dilara.”

No, you didn’t. But she doesn’t feel like saying it out loud. Having him admit it… it feels different, unlike how Jimin’s apology felt. Jimin had guilt - plain, simple, heartbreaking guilt. Namjoon sounds disappointed, a soul-crushing image when she thinks about it.

“I’ve known Taehyung for over a decade, you know,” he says, looking up. “And we’ve had our share of disagreements and problems and stuff, but I’ve never been this disappointed in him before,” he confesses, surprisingly echoing her thoughts.

"You and me both," she murmurs after a moment. "But thanks."

"And also…" Namjoon clears his throat. "I hope you know that you can always… you know. Talk to us. Or me, at least. I kind of get the feeling that you think we're all on his side."

Dilara frowns. "Aren't you?" Isn’t that why this whole disaster happened?

"No," he clarifies immediately. "I mean, we're his - we're his friends, his brothers, his family, but… that doesn't mean we give him a pass for everything. What happened with you two…" He sighs, looking truly troubled. "I know we - the rest of us - played a part. But we're not choosing sides."

Dilara doesn't realise until this moment just how much she needed someone to say this, for someone to acknowledge that Taehyung fucked up and that she has questions - at least a hundred. But something holds her back.

As though picking up on it, Namjoon tilts his head to catch her eye. "You can trust me."

The paddock is emptier in this area than a usual Friday. She wonders briefly if it's because Namjoon is with her, or if everyone has flocked to where the rest of BTS is.

"You know, at first I didn't believe it," she begins, voice low and playing with the rings on her fingers. "I thought maybe he lost his phone or maybe he was angry with me or - or maybe he was hurt. Anything but this. I thought he loved me too much to do this.” She can’t keep the irony out of her voice. She swallows, her throat hurting when she relives that horrible week in March. “But Jimin is a bad liar, and I knew that if he had you guys lying for him, I didn’t stand a chance.”

“And then I saw the article and…” She sighs, remembering how everything had suddenly felt so empty. “And it proved everything I said to him when I told him we shouldn’t be in a relationship.”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “You anticipated this a year ago?” he asks, and she can tell he’s trying not to sound too sceptical.

“Maybe not the part where he ghosted me,” she allows, shrugging. “But Jennie? Sure I did,” she admits, feeling humiliated even saying it out loud. “I’m not blind, you know. They look perfect together.” She’s quiet for a moment, not trusting herself to speak anymore. “And it’s not even that. They’re both idols, they’re Korean, she’s… tall…” She trails off, finding it far too depressing to talk about. “It just makes so much more sense.”

Namjoon is chewing on his lip. “You know, I meant it when I said that I’m not here to defend Taehyung, but…” He gives her an apologetic look when she rolls her eyes. “You can’t possibly think it’s that simple,” he says, barely masking his incredulity.

Dilara doesn't like his tone. “Why not? What has he done to make me think otherwise? And besides," she continues when Namjoon simply sighs, "it's not even about her. Do you know how stupid I felt when I saw that article? That I was waiting for an explanation, getting worried about him, while he was too busy screwing k-pop’s ‘it girl’ to drop me a text to tell me he was done with me?" She shakes her head. "And… yeah, I know that's not exactly how it happened. He told me… something. Doesn't change the fact that I can’t stop picturing it, though," she mutters, rubbing at her eyes.

Nearly a minute passes, but Namjoon says nothing. 

Dilara raises her eyebrows. "Seriously? You're really not going to help him out?"

He chuckles, a little nervously. "I think this is something he needs to fix himself," he says wisely. "That being said… I do think you should know that he wasn't quite as cavalier as you think," he adds. "I promise I'm not defending him. And I won't tell you if you don't want to know." He pauses, as though waiting for her to confirm.

Her resolve ends in about five seconds. "You're an evil man, Kim Namjoon. Alright, out with it."

Namjoon laughs. "Well, we were there, but… we didn't really know what was going on. We knew something was wrong and we found out about Jennie because we walked in on a fight between Taehyung and Seokjin. He'd actually caught them at the party, apparently…"

Dilara recalls Seokjin's face when he’d made her a sandwich, how his guilt had been plastered all over his face. At the time, she’d thought it was guilt by association. But he knew… he knew the whole time.

"... and he'd confessed to Jimin as well - did you know it was the first time in years that we'd ever seen them fight like that?" Namjoon shakes his head, as though trying to get rid of a bad memory. "But… apart from that, we had no idea. Honestly, until you started calling us, we didn't even know he was avoiding you. We thought he was being Taehyung, keeping things to himself, dealing with it in private… we kind of didn't feel like it was any of our business." He sighs. "And then the article broke."

She chuckles without humor. "That damned article."

"Yeah. Of course, it exaggerated everything - they actually weren't dating at the time. The pictures looked bad, I know, but she was speaking to YG and we made Big Hit put out a statement and everything and we kind of thought that was it." He shrugs apologetically. "We thought he'd finally call you, you'd be angry, he'd apologise and somehow you two would be okay." There's a frustration in his voice. "He would never do something so stupid to risk losing you like that.” He gives her an apologetic look. “But then your package came."

Dilara’s heart skips a beat; she’d almost forgotten about that. "So he got it, huh?" she asks quietly, remembering the ring he's still wearing on his index finger, the one that had hung around her neck for over a year.

"Oh, he got it." Namjoon bites his lip, as though suddenly wondering how much to tell her. "It arrived in our dorm and when he opened it and pulled out… I think it was a t-shirt? He didn't say anything. He just picked up the box and went into his room and didn't come out again for the rest of the night, not until we had to leave for the airport the next day. He was…" He shudders. "He was a wreck. I don't think he spoke to us for nearly two days. Then Jungkook tried to call you but when it didn't go through, we realised you'd blocked us. And Taehyung, presumably, which explained how he was acting. And, no, we couldn't even blame you," he finishes quietly.

Dilara doesn't know what to think. Her chest feels tight; she doesn't know if it's the thought of Taehyung in pain or that everything she thought she knew may just have been different. "So… what are you saying? All this happened because he was too late? I should forgive him because he was going through a hard time, too?"

Namjoon frowns. "Of course not. He still fucked up. Massively. And forgiving him is your decision. It's not my place to tell you what to do."

She’s quiet. She can tell he isn't lying about being disappointed. He sounds like he is, the slight edge in his voice, his determination that Taehyung deserves whatever she’s throwing at him. 

"Do you miss Kaya?" Dilara asks him after a moment.

He frowns curiously, clearly not expecting it. "All the time," he answers. "Why?"

She shrugs. "Is it worth it? The distance and the secrecy and all that?" When he simply tilts his head slightly, she sighs. "Sorry, I know it's none of my business. Just thought a different perspective could help."

Namjoon nods slowly. "Well, then, yes. It's totally worth it. It's hard, for sure, being apart for so long, missing birthdays and stuff…" He trails off, and she’s worried for a moment that she’s ruined the mood - if that's even possible at this point. He exhales and shakes his head. "But… man, she keeps me sane. I’d probably have a breakdown once a month if she wasn’t there. Right now, even the worst day ever can't be that bad if I can still call her at the end of it." An automatic smile spreads across his face as he looks at his lap. "And she’s doing her Ph.D. Sometimes she feels way out of my league."

Dilara nods slowly. "Well, now I'm waiting for BTS's next hit, Ph.D.," she says wryly. When he chuckles self-consciously, she waves her hand in apology. "Sorry. She sounds great."

"She is," he agrees, nodding. "That's the part that's worth it. When you find someone like that, you really do anything you can to make sure you hold on to it, even if it means taking extra flights or staying up to video chat and stuff." He pauses, swallowing. “Seriously, I mean anything.”

Ah. Namjoon’s disdain for Taehyung’s actions is clear now, understandable even. For a man in a long distance relationship with what sounds like his the one, watching his friend screw up a similar situation while he himself is working so hard to maintain it has to be frustrating. Dilara wonders if that means he's equating her with Kaya, but she’s too afraid of the answer.

"Are you ever afraid it'll stop working?" she asks quietly. "And… feel free to tell me it's none of my business."

Namjoon considers it for a moment, and his face darkens as though battling with a memory. "I'm not… afraid of it. I'm worried, if that makes sense. I think it'll always work for me; my job would mean a long distance relationship no matter where my girlfriend lived, even if it was Korea. It's a drawback of the entire role, with BTS, producing, touring. But it's not her life," he admits, and I think he sounds sad. "She lives a normal life, with normal friends and a normal job and if she ever decides that she needs a boyfriend she can see more than once every couple of months…" He shrugs, but it seems tired. "I can't stop her. I'd want that for her, if it's something that she wanted. If it made her happy."

"Sounds… rare," says Dilara honestly, finding it hard to meet his eyes. She can feel him watching her and she thinks he knows what's on her mind.

"You know, Taehyung didn't really talk to us about this at all so I don't - I can't really pretend to know what he was thinking. But I do know what he was like during that time. With you versus without you," he clarifies. "With you… he was happy. Like, really, annoyingly happy. Without you… God, it was like living with the grinch. A mean, petty, heartbroken… and very handsome Grinch," he allows grudgingly. "He was moody, would barely talk to us, picked fights for no reason until Hobi finally had enough and threw a banana at him."

Dilara snorts at the image and Namjoon’s face breaks out into an exasperated smile as he shakes his head, as though reliving how he had to manage that fight.

"It was pretty funny, if you ignore why Taehyung was being so irritating," he concedes. "In any case, he improved a bit after that. Still kept to himself and was a bit sharp if the topic ever came too close to you… but he at least started trying again."

"Bet Jennie helped with that," she  mutters.

"Dilara, it wasn't…"

"No, you know what?" Dilara pauses, wondering how to phrase this without sounding too pathetic. "You're not the first person to tell me that he didn't just forget me out of the blue. Jimin tried, but I told him I'd leave if he started talking about him. I think Jungkook wanted to say something but I accidentally… punched him in the face," she mutters, wincing slightly at the memory, and Namjoon snorts. 

"It's just hard to believe, you know? Especially because I know he started dating her right after. And don't bother telling me Big Hit denied it, Namjoon. I know some fans don't give you guys your privacy but that was literally the only way I found out anything."

Namjoon shrugs. "I'm not denying it. They did date - technically. But - okay, you know what?" He changes tacks abruptly. "I don't know what happened in their relationship, I don't think it's right for me to talk about it."

She stares at him. "You're kidding me, right?" When he doesn't answer, she shifts to face him. "Namjoon, you just told me the story of how one of your members threw fruit at my ex-boyfriend and this is where you choose to draw the line?"

He raises an eyebrow. "You're sure you want to know? Because I don't know much either, to be honest," he declares, holding up his hands. "He didn't talk about her too much and we didn't really pry after a point."

That doesn't sound too good. But Dilara is weak. "Yes, I'm sure. Please, please tell me about the gorgeous, skinny pop star who was important enough to get him to throw away a year's worth of history."

Namjoon winces. “Not a great start.”

“Okay, fine. I won’t say anything.”

“Well, in short," he begins, “I think both of them were just dating on paper, for the most part. Maybe they intended to do it genuinely but at least Taehyung I know wasn’t in the mental state to move on.” He pauses. “It never seemed like Jennie was following up too much either.”

Dilara frowns, confused. “So… what? You’re saying it was staged?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think…” Namjoon’s eyebrows scrunch and he looks like he’s choosing his words carefully. “I think he just wanted something to come out of the shitstorm that happened with you. Like he didn't want all of that to have been for nothing. I guess it would've been harder for him to deal with, that he lost you over one incident, as opposed to losing you over something that turned into a relationship.”

So… Taehyung wasn't lying. He'd sort of said the same thing but not nearly as eloquently, and she’d had no patience for anything he was saying in any case.

“Didn't really work out, though,” he adds, unaware of her begrudging revelations. “One fine day he just told us at breakfast that he and Jennie were over and immediately changed the topic. A couple of weeks before the fashion show actually."

That fashion show. The day she’d spotted Jungkook and Jimin at the airport, and later seen them be received as the guests of honour at her work event, like some sick joke. 

"Is that why he's trying so hard all of a sudden?" she asks after a moment. "Because it’s pretty fucked up that he cheated on me, broke up with me, dated the other girl, spent months without a word and it's only when I'm actually in front of him that he even tries to talk to me? What about those three months before the fashion show? What about all that time after the fashion show? Is he just after me to apologise because we're in the same house and he's bored or something?"

Namjoon gives her a look. "You know he tried to call you before, too," he reminds her in a tone that suggests sheI shouldn't forget. "But you'd blocked him - and you were completely within your right to do that," he adds hastily when she opens her mouth, murderous. "He was too late. It was his fault.”

She raises her eyebrows. “But…?”

He sighs. “I think he assumed that you'd moved on. When you sent him back all his stuff, including gifts, and then blocked him, it looked like you'd, you know, cleanly cut him out of your life," he explains, slicing his hand through the air. "You did a fantastic job ignoring us in London and then again in Yeongam, so most of us really did think you didn't care anymore."

"Good," she snaps savagely. "That was the point."

He nods, a little humbly, and Dilara immediately feels a bit guilty. "But then when we started this PR thing, it became pretty clear that you did care. He was devastated about your break-up, of course, but seeing you so broken up about it changed everything." 

It's a lot to digest. "So what does he want now?" Dilara asks finally, feeling tired. "Does he just want to get it off his chest, feel like a good person again? What is it?" She’s baiting him. She wants him to confirm that Jimin's theory is wrong. 

Namjoon does no such thing, however. He frowns at her in a manner that suggests he knows exactly what she’s doing and that he isn't going to spoon feed her the answer. "What do you think he wants?" When she simply huffs and rolls her eyes, he chuckles. "Come on, Dilara, I think it's fairly obvious what he wants, don't you think? How he feels? What he's trying to do to prove it? You're a smart girl," he says patiently, like she’s a schoolgirl.

"God, you must be one hell of a leader," she mutters, annoyed.

Namjoon laughs and stretches, dimples popping on his cheeks. "That's why Kaya keeps me sane, because I'm not her leader."

“Would’ve been cool to meet her.”

“I think you’d get along. You have a lot of things in common.”

“Yeah? Like our conditioner?”

 “Well, that. And, yeah, she didn't think we'd work out at first either," he allows, shrugging.

"Yes, well, at least in your case you proved her wrong."

"So far," he agrees. "But that's what I mean, anyway. When you find someone like that, you do everything in your power to not mess it up. Or you grovel and grovel until she forgives you. It really takes a special kind of person to be able to date someone in BTS, you know? With this job and the fame," he says innocently.

Dilara stares at him. "What a sweet and incredibly manipulative thing to say."

He laughs. "So dramatic. Sometimes you and Taehyung make so much sense together."

She chokes. "Don't try to sweet talk me into forgiving him,” she warns, ignoring his grin. "And, anyway… I told him to leave me alone." A thought occurs to her. "He's stubborn, though. Do you think he really will?"

Namjoon looks thoughtful, then shrugs. "Like you said, he's stubborn. And if he sets his mind to something, he usually does whatever he needs to to get it." He looks down at her, but she doesn’t respond, sensing that he isn't done. "But at this point, I don't think there's anything in the world you could ask him for that he wouldn't give to you. Even if it kills him."

—

One fallout of Dilara’s conversation with Namjoon is an unexpected one: a slow, unexpected concern for Taehyung’s feelings. Most of what Namjoon said she could believe; all the moodiness and snapping, something she’d witnessed many times herself. The fact that it had apparently hurt him so much… she thinks she can believe it, but somehow it doesn't help the anger any.

But it's not really anger anymore, though. She wants it to be; it was far easier when it was just pure, unadulterated fury at his actions and disregard for her feelings, something she’d partly unleashed in Monza. But now there are different emotions creeping up, ones she had tried so hard to suppress for months, each of them reminding her that even though their relationship is over, they aren't.

Dilara replays their conversation - or their fight or whatever it was - over and over in her head. She’s barely able to concentrate on the actual words, though, each time stopping to relive how his hands had felt around her wrists, how the familiar scent of lotion had felt like summer, how his voice sounded when he accidentally called her Lara… and how helpless he looked when she’d cut off his apology. Even now, thinking back, she doesn’t know why she did that, why she stopped him from apologising. She just knows she doesn’t want him to.

The next race is at the Nurburgring in Germany, a cold and foggy track where everyone is in multiple layers and the only talk is around how the drivers are expected to ever warm up their tyres on this frigid track, let alone race. Dilara is on her way back from a rather pointless drivers' briefing with Max, Lando, George and Mick, all of them bundled in team gear. She’s the only one who looks like a potato, though, in her opinion, while the boys, all lean and tall, look like Burberry models.

She and Max lose the other three when they reach the Red Bull garage, entering the screening room to immediately be engulfed by the scent of chocolate. She’s confused for about a second before a cup with steam rising from it is thrust into her hand and she yelps when she feels how hot it is.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" The blonde intern, Hannah, immediately withdraws the cup from Dilara’s hand. "Sorry, sorry… it's hot chocolate! And guess whose idea it was!"

She sounds far too excited about hot chocolate; Dilara catches Max's eye who gives her a confused frown and she can almost hear him go what the fuck. She suppresses a snort, even though it’s not much of a guess, though. Hannah Kumpen had joined the hospitality team at the beginning of the year, and while her initial claim to fame had been her insistence to be positive, no matter the fuck up, the fashion show in London had brought forth another aspect of her personality that she seemed to want to suppress, but Dilara could recognise from a mile away: fangirl.

Dilara watches as Hannah skips over to where other Red Bull-clad people are standing, all clutching steaming mugs, along with the tall figures of BTS themselves. The first thing she spots is Jimin with a hat on his head, looking so much like a freezing cherub that she involuntarily smiles. The next thing she notices is the member next to him, her one and only ex-boyfriend, with the blonde intern standing much too close to him.

She feels a stab of anger at the sight, although she can't immediately pinpoint why. She doesn’t know if it's because Hannah is pretty, or if Dilara wants everyone to hate Taehyung as much as she does,  or if it's just because he's her ex, or if the words that she's saying right now basically credit him with the idea of hot chocolate for everyone.

"... and he just decided, just like that," she gushes, clearly trying to keep her admiration under control but failing. "And then he wouldn't take no for an answer, even when Christian offered to at least split it! It was so generous," she declares, looking up at him like he's hung the moon before looking directly at Dilara."You would know, though, Dilara," she says knowingly, making her heart stop for a moment and she spots Taehyung do a double-take as well, "I'm sure that's why he's your favourite, isn't he?"

"I - I don't think I've ever said that," she stutters, but Hannah apparently isn’t looking for confirmation. 

"No, I know you haven't," she says teasingly, still annoyingly chirpy. "But it was really generous.”

There’s a moment of silence where her eyes dart from Dilara and Max, both of whom looked mystified, to Taehyung whose head is bent low, to the rest of the group, who look like they’re on the verge of bursting a blood vessel as they try not to guffaw.

When no one responds, Taehyung exhales silently and looks up, apparently relieved his ordeal is over. Then -

“He rescues animals, too,” chimes Hannah, looking rather proud of this fact, as though he’s the child she raised to have such wonderful values. “He has a dog with health problems,” she says to no one. “His name is Yeontan.”

Dilara doesn’t know which to focus on: the exaggeration, because as far as she knows, Kim Taehyung has only ever adopted one rescue animal, or resisting the urge to throttle this girl and snarl that she fucking knows who Yeontan is. However, John, one of the mechanics who’s standing next to them with a mug of his own, glances up briefly at that.

“Oh, you adopted a rescue, that’s fantastic. I have a couple myself,” he adds. “One’s a terrier and the other -”

“Oh, Taehyung’s is a shitzu,” she says immediately, and even John looks a bit miffed at being cut off. “He's always featuring in lives and pictures and stuff. I think it takes a really good person to adopt a dog with health problems, don't you think? Pets are a huge responsibility and with an idol’s job… I mean, it's admirable…"

Dilara looks up at Taehyung, a little disbelieving that he hasn't told her to get a grip yet. He does look pretty mortified; he'd started off with mild bashfulness when they’d walked in, but now looks like he's rather regretting the hot chocolate entirely. 

He gives Dilara an apologetic look when she meets his eyes for a moment, as though reassuring her that he knows she knows who Yeontan is, that he'd tell Hannah the truth if he could. It's actually hilarious, but she’s far too annoyed at how Hannah is now holding his arm casually, as though she hasn’t even realised. Next to him, Jungkook, Hoseok and Seokjin are red in the face from the cold - or from trying not to laugh. Jimin has disappeared behind Hoseok entirely, shoulders shaking with what is clearly laughter. 

Even Max looks unbelievably amused, and Dilara notices Taehyung catch his eye and shake his head slightly in embarrassment. Thankfully, Christian joins them then and Hannah tones it down a bit with the personal information, to everyone’s relief. 

"Oi, why don't you two have drinks?" Christian asks, raising his own mug, and Hannah seems to suddenly realise and immediately calls for two mugs when Max and Dilara shake their heads.

"It's a race weekend," she explains, mostly for Taehyung’s benefit, for no matter what their situation is, it actually was a nice thing for him to do. 

To her surprise, his eyes light up at her comment and he opens his mouth to say something, but Hannah beats him to it.

"Oh, don't worry! Tae actually got you guys low sugar ones!" 

While Dilara internally fumes at her nerve to call him Tae, right on cue, two mugs appear before them. She looks at Max, who shrugs and reaches enthusiastically for one of them. 

"Works for me," is all he says, sighing when he takes a sip. Dilara takes that as her cue to accept as well, a not altogether unpleasant squirm in her stomach when she realises that Taehyung remembered that she prefers not to have sugar on a race weekend. 

"Isn’t he wonderful?” Hannah repeats for what seems like the hundredth time.

Next to them, Christian nods in assent, studying his drink. "Stellar bloke," he agrees absently, raising his mug slightly. Max agrees, too, but the dry amusement is more than evident.

"Yes, Taehyung's the best," says Yoongi, straight-faced.

"He's just great," agrees Namjoon, while the others only silently shake their heads. Dilara sees Taehyung give them a murderous look, just before multiple pairs of eyes turn to her and she feels a terrible sense of foreboding.

There's an expectant silence in the air, and it takes her a moment to realise it's because everyone is expecting her to say it next. How Taehyung’s a good person, so generous and so thoughtful… she looks away from him, suddenly unable to say anything. Once three, five, ten seconds pass, Dilara knows the group at least have picked up on her hesitation. She’s deliberately not looking at Taehyung, but even in her slight peripheral vision, she sees his face crumple and she knows her lack of response is breaking his heart.

Next to her, Max nudges her quietly. She looks up to see Christian frowning at her and she knows she’s lost. "Yeah, of course he is,"she agrees finally, unable to stop a note of irony from creeping into her voice.

Dilara doesn’t say another word until everyone starts leaving the room. Predictably, Taehyung stays back. She knows what she did, how uncalled for it was, but she has no way of making him realise just how hard it is being around him - especially when she knows he hasn't changed, when his lapse in judgement becomes more and more apparent as a lapse, when she can see him doing and saying things that remind her of why she fell in love with him at all.

She feels him standing behind her, close enough that if she stretches her hand backwards, she’d be able to touch the soft beige coat he's wearing. Her heart drops when he says her name. 

"Dilara…"

It still sounds like a song coming from his mouth, a sad but treasured song. He’s just wonderful. She wanted to scream when Hannah said it, wanted to demand that if she really thought so, what about all the shit he did to her? How did it matter that he bought everyone hot chocolate, that he had a special needs dog who meant the world to him, or that he was wonderful with kids when he still loved Dilara and hurt her anyway?

“Dilara, I know I -”

“No, they were right,” she interrupts, stepping away and not meeting his eyes. “You’re just awesome. And you’re wonderful and - and you’re perfect. Everyone thinks so,” she adds icily, swallowing when her eyes start to sting. “They can’t all be wrong. Guess I must have done something really awful for you to do what you did to me.” She finally looks up at him, scoffing slightly when he immediately shakes his head.

“You know you didn’t,” says Taehyung, voice low. He takes a step forward and she immediately steps back. “This was all me.”

He’s probably right, so when Dilara is in the library of the house later that evening, looking for a book Namjoon had recommended after their heart to heart in Austria, and she sees Taehyung enter from the corner of her eye, she doesn’t walk away. She shivers, but she doesn’t know if it’s because of the cold breeze through the open window or him coming up to stand behind her again, keeping his distance but still feeling so, so close.

She thinks she knows why he’s here. She hears him take a deep breath, completely steady. 

“I’m sorry, Dilara.” His voice is heavy with regret, and her knees almost give away. “I’m so, so sorry. For everything. What I did… I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me or never talked to me again. I didn’t mean to hurt you and I know that means nothing because I did anyway but… I’m so sorry.” 

She can’t tell if he’s crying yet. His voice gives nothing away; he sounds oddly exhausted, but she knows what that’s like. It’s the only thing keeping her from sobbing, from snarling at him and stopping him from apologising again. 

“I ruined it. The best thing that ever happened to me. Because you were, you know?” He sniffs, and she has to grit her teeth from making a sound. “You are. But that’s not… I’m not going to talk about that now. This is… I owe you an apology. And I’m sorry. More than you’ll ever know.”

Dilara can feel him behind her again. He’s so close and for a moment she wants to stop being strong and stop hating him and stop being angry with him. She’d almost done that when they’d fought in Austria, except then the explanation had been too raw and too fresh, and all her focus had been on the hurt and betrayal. 

Now… now it’s just him. It’s the warmth of his body inches behind hers, heat radiating off of it even in the freezing cold, his deep voice like velvet, and his words coursing through her veins, bringing up all the emotion she’d felt months ago when she’d seen him in Yeongam and broken down in front of Lexie.

“What did I do?” The words are out of her mouth before she even realises. “I thought…” I thought you loved me. But she stops herself  just in time. “What did I do that was so bad that you chose to - to leave me behind like that?”

Taehyung sighs, a guttural sound, and she knows he’s hanging his head; his hair brushes her shoulder. He’s so close; she can practically feel his breath on her neck. She pictures, for a moment, what it would be like to turn around and kiss him, feel those lips on hers again, lips she genuinely thought would be the last ones she would ever feel. Her eyes flutter shut momentarily; irrespective of how she feels, her body clearly reacts to him the way it always has.

“Nothing. If I’d known you still -” He breaks off, taking a deep breath. “I was too late. If I’d known you still cared, I would’ve flown anywhere in the world to explain everything to you. I was too late,” he repeats, almost to himself. His bangs brush her neck ever so slightly as he takes a step back, and she feels the cold breeze on her skin again. 

“Trust me, Dilara,” he says softly, and she wants to sob at how her name sounds on his tongue, reverential and intimate all at once. “You can’t possibly hate me for hurting you as much as I hate myself.”

Dilara sighs. She doesn’t know that she will ever be able to explain to him the real reason she wasn’t letting him apologise. Harbouring the anger, watching his frustration as she avoided him, the grim satisfaction that he was now the one being ignored; they helped - until they didn’t.

She doesn’t know that she will ever be able to put into words just how her chest is loosening up, now that the weight of the anger is shedding, but also how her heart feels heavier than ever because now that the anger is gone, she’s finally forced to acknowledge what’s underneath all that… what’s still underneath all that.

Dilara exhales and slowly turns around, the book in her hand. Taehyung's standing closer than she’d expected and she has to tilt her head up to look him in the eye. She’d always loved how tall he was, but she shakes the thoughts away. His blond hair is tousled and she has to resist the urge to brush it off his forehead. 

"That's the problem, though," she tells him, catching herself before she says his name, "I don't hate you." With one last look at his slight frown, she brushes past him and leaves the library.

—

[debdarkpetal]

Queen Gazette, "Back at the Hotel Sleazy", 9 jun 1976. By Ann Finnegan.

For all those fans who were misled by the media,

Queen did not spend a couple of days-relaxing on sunny

Perth beaches - it rained the whole bloody time they

were there. (In Melbourne the hotel was 'besiged' by

fans, who to quote Pete Brown — Queen's personal

manager - seemed to be emergirig'from the wood work).

Not to be put off however, by the Australian conditions

Freddie Mercury (lead vocals and keyboards) attended

the press conference in white pants and a simply

sumptuous summer synthetic top with delicate butterfly

sleeves curling gently over his shoulders. He was

even more beautiful than Sophia Loren.

They were all quite chatty only Roger (Meddows-

Taylor, the drummer) would keep interjecting, usually

over John Deacon (bass) who said not an audible word.

Q&A :

Press: WouId you describe your music as mock opera?

Freddie: They call it cock-opera back home.

Roger: I suppose because the vocals are in the 'grand

style'.

Press: When is your next album coming out?

Freddie: We'll have a rest and think about it..

Roger: We just don't bung'em together.

Brian: We don't sort of write sitting in hotel rooms

you know.

Freddie: We gather influences.

Press: Your music has been described as snob rock

What do you think?

Freddie: I couldn't describe our music as anything. We

certainly don't put across that this it intelligent

music that is on a completely different level

to the people who come to it.

Roger: It's written for the people. That's what it's

all about.

Press: The theme of death recurs on your albums

Why this preoccupation?

Roger: Freddie's morbid mind.

Press to Freddie:Do you consider yourself a sex-symbol?

Freddie: You're joking dear. I'm just a singer dear

Press to Roger: Do you consider yourself a superstar?

Roger: As meaningless, (blows kisses)

Roger on the media - absurd for a magazine to combine

bine rock and politics.

Press: Roger, you're noted for your amazing screams.

Freddie: It's a controlled scream. I'd rather call it art.

Undauted by the fearless Australians they continued

talking about their lyrics and the esoteric implication

Roger: Freddie just loves the word 'Beelzebub .

Freddie: yes, well, Brian's got a taste for unusual words.

Roger: You talking about dandling on your knee and

things?

All four of them write songs and each has at least one

song on 'A Night At The Opera'.

Brian: It's very difficult to talk about our songs as a

group because we all have different ideas of

what the songs are about.

Roger: No we don't.

Freddie: Roger's the sensitive one. 'I'm in love with

my car' is the most sensitive song on the

album (Night At The Opera).

Roger did tend to sit there pouting at the bows on his

pink lame gym-boots. One hardly noticed the dark

roots in this gold angelic hair. We did ask, but unfortunately

Roger didn't have a pic of himself in the gym boots.

Roger was later accosted by David Essex fans in

the foyer of the hotel, who wished to know if he was a

popstar, girls now have Roger's autograph Back

to the lyrics....

Freddie: Every song is written by one of us and means

something special to each one of us. Certain

songs have a very literal meaning and can be

understood straight away. Then there are some

songs that can be taken on a lot of different

levels.

He describes a lot of his songs as fantasies. 'We want to

consciously lose ourselves. There are certain things we

want to escape from in our lives or whatever.' He feels

that people should create their own private fantasies

from the images in his songs and so doesn't like to talk

about what they mean to him. 'I'd hate to shatter someone's

illusion. If I listen to somebody's songs I conjure

up a fantasy of what its about and I like to keep it that

way.'

He elaborated further .. . 'Lyrically it is helpful to use

certain words. You see it depends .... sometimes I want

to use words that are phonetically useful. In the beginning

they're surface words but you entwine them into

the meaning of a song. That's what I mean about

different levels.'

Brian May has a different approach to his songs, 'There's

usually something serious behind them, but I feel a big

responsibility not to over-indulge in ideologies. In

'White Queen' I was very interested in that significance

of Queens and White Ladies in English folk lore. The

song started off as a personal experience, the frustration

of not being able to communicate, I was thinking about

Robert Graves' White Goddess' and that became involved

in the song. '

Roger:

Brian:

Romantic slush.

Our 'Now I'm Here' song is really about our

first American tour. A big experience for anybody.

It's a conglomeration of all the experiences

we had on that tour. We had a great

time with Mott the Hoople. I suppose they

taught us to be a touring band.

We're very critical about each other and very

cynical. We don't get deeply into meanings

because you're living

have to

do it it all the time. You

me on

With the stage show the band is doing something

different to stimulating their records.

Brian: "You don't

get up there and behave like you do in the street. You

go up there to entertain people and give them some kind

of excitement". They have rearranged some of their

songs especially for stage performance, including a medley

of 'Bohemian Rhapsody', 'Killer Queen', 'Black Queen'

and 'Leyroy Brown', which grinds down into 'March

of the Black Queen' and then skips out on a lighter

note which features Brian on genuine Japanese ukulele.

The brilliant solo Brian performs in 'Brighton Rock',

with sweet high Paganini frills and harmonies, stimulating

two or three guitars on stage, is in a style he has

evolved himself. He got the idea the first time he was

in a recording studio.

Says Brian: "It was my first

experience of doing multi-tracking. It happened to be

in the cannon-things which repeat themselves. You play

one, then you play the same over the top of it after a

time interval. Later we started to do those things on

stage but there was the problem of how to do it. We

started having a single delay and then another one over

the top of it. Then afterwards you do another repeat on

the second. You can then do three part harmonies

with yourself. We started to base it all on ten second

solos and it grew and grew. There's a lot of other people

doing it now and I'm glad because its a thing you can

play around with.'

In the stage arrangement of "Prophet's Song' Freddie

uses a similar echo feedback system which multiplies

his voice into a celestial choir. His voice floats as a vision

- "Listen to the madman' - while Brian plays some

beautiful guitar.

Brian describes their encore performance as the time

when the band really unwinds. "It's nice at the encore

to just completely unbend and make a fool of yourself.

It gets rid of the tension between the band and the

audience. I used to get a kick out of going to concerts

to see rock groups like the 'Who' and feeling involved,

like the group knew you were there. We go by the kinds

of things we think people would like at an encore. It's

at a very basic level really, an energy level, a physical

level. Rock and Roll is kind of a body music. I get as

much satisfaction out of basic rock'n roll like Status

Quo as the most sophisticated music I know.'

The audience certainly enjoyed it and really let

loose their energy.

Roger (who claimed the most female

screams) in rainbow mop-wig opened the encore wjth

slow heavy rock-beat as Freddie did a dramatic entrance

in a silk kimono. As he eased into 'Big Spender', he

peeled off to striped hot pants for an outrageous version

of 'Jailhouse Rock' - simple hard-driving rock'n'roll

that had everybody out of their sets.

gettin' feelin' thru

transistors

Brian was rather upset that the Australian Press

should see them as a manufactured band. If 'Bohemian

,Rhapsody' can be seen as incorporating the spectrum of

theirs talent - mood changes, heavy stuff, the soft

it is not because they (men of letters from

universities) have developed a magic 'X' formula

can be seen as a musical progression,

working of motifs off their other albums. Brian can

y say that, ' They obviously didn't see us in the earl-

stages.

We started playing because

I vision that we thought was

over a year and a half we were playing

usally you gather people around who

the way it happened.

We're very lucky really

have the kind of audience who are attentive

to directions we choose to follow. One of us

end up with a song and we'll say, yeah it needs

that kind of treatment and maybe that turns out to be

something you call heavy and sometimes something

which is light.'

To get back to the charge that they are a manufactured

band, while he doesn't like it, he can only take it as

a compliment that they think the band is so good. He

doesn't consider himself a technician "technically I've

stayed the same for the last six or seven years. Progress

is what you feel and what you are putting across. That's

what playing is about for us.'

Freddie: There's a lot of music there too.

Roger: A bit of music, yeah.

Via _letusclingtogether_ on Facebook.

[rushescapegameme]

The Ultimate Checklist for Planning the Best Escape Room Outing

Are you ready to embark on an adventure filled with mystery, excitement, and teamwork? Look no further than the best escape room Melbourne experiences! Whether you're a seasoned escape room enthusiast or a first-timer eager to delve into the world of puzzles and challenges, proper planning can make all the difference in ensuring an unforgettable outing.

In this comprehensive guide, we'll walk you through the essential steps to plan the ultimate best escape room adventure.

Unveiling the Mystery: A Thrilling Introduction

Picture this: You and your friends are locked in a room, the clock ticking away as you race against time to solve clues, crack codes, and uncover hidden secrets. Sounds exhilarating, doesn't it? That's the allure of the best escape room Melbourne experiences – an immersive journey where every twist and turn keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Step 1: Choose the Perfect Best Escape Room

The first step in planning your best escape room outing is selecting the ideal room for your group. Consider the theme, difficulty level, and size of the room to ensure it aligns with your preferences and group dynamics. Whether you prefer a spine-tingling mystery, a heart-pounding adventure, or a brain-teasing challenge, there's the best escape room waiting to captivate your imagination.

Step 2: Gather Your Team of Adventurers

An essential ingredient for a successful escape room experience is assembling the right team. Invite friends, family members, or colleagues who bring a diverse range of skills, perspectives, and problem-solving abilities to the table. Remember, teamwork makes the dream work in the world of escape rooms, so choose your companions wisely!

Step 3: Schedule Your Escape

Once you've chosen your best escape room and assembled your team, it's time to schedule your adventure. Coordinate with your group to find a date and time that works for everyone, ensuring maximum participation and excitement. Keep in mind that the best escape room experiences often require advance booking, so plan ahead to secure your preferred time slot.

Step 4: Familiarise Yourself with the Rules

Before diving into your best escape room adventure, take some time to familiarise yourself with the rules and guidelines provided by the venue. Each escape room may have its own set of rules regarding gameplay, hints, and safety precautions. By knowing what to expect, you can ensure a smooth and enjoyable experience for everyone involved.

Step 5: Arrive Early and Ready to Play

On the day of your best escape room outing, arrive early at the venue to allow ample time for check-in and preparation. Use this opportunity to get acquainted with your surroundings, meet your game master, and strategies with your team. Remember, communication and collaboration are key to conquering the challenges that lie ahead.

Step 6: Embrace the Adventure

As you step into the best escape room, leave behind the distractions of the outside world and fully immerse yourself in the adventure unfolding before you. Keep an open mind, stay observant, and don't hesitate to think outside the box when tackling puzzles and riddles. With creativity, persistence, and a dash of ingenuity, you'll be well on your way to victory!

Step 7: Celebrate Your Success

Whether you escape with seconds to spare or fall just short of victory, take a moment to celebrate your achievements and bond with your teammates. Reflect on the challenges you faced, the moments of triumph, and the memories you've created together. After all, the true essence of the best escape room experience lies not only in the destination but in the journey itself.

Conclusion

In conclusion, planning the best escape room Melbourne outing is all about preparation, teamwork, and a sense of adventure. By following this ultimate checklist, you can ensure a thrilling and memorable experience that will leave you eagerly anticipating your next escape.

So, gather your fellow adventurers, embark on your quest, and prepare to unlock the magic of the best escape room adventures like never before!

Source: https://escaperoomgameau.blogspot.com/2024/05/the-ultimate-checklist-for-planning.html

[stjeanluc]

Victoria Incognito (A Queen Victoria Short Story) - Part 1

The sharp clatter of a silver tea tray hitting the marble floor echoed through the opulent drawing room of Buckingham Palace. Queen Victoria, her face flushed with frustration, stood with her fists clenched at her sides, glaring at the scattered china and spilled tea.

"Damn it all to hell!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "I can't take another moment of this suffocating nonsense!"

Lady Eleanor Hartwell, the Queen's trusted lady-in-waiting, rushed to her side, carefully avoiding the mess on the floor. "Your Majesty, please," she murmured, placing a gentle hand on Victoria's arm. "What's troubling you so?"

Victoria whirled to face Eleanor, her blue eyes blazing. "What isn't troubling me, Eleanor? These endless meetings, the constant scrutiny, the inability to so much as breathe without it becoming a matter of state!" She paced the room, her elaborate skirts swishing angrily around her feet. "Do you know what Lord Melbourne said to me today? He suggested I consider limiting my rides in the park because it's 'unseemly' for a queen to be seen enjoying herself so openly!"

Eleanor's hazel eyes widened in surprise. "Surely he jests, Your Majesty?"

"Oh, how I wish he were," Victoria spat, collapsing onto a nearby chaise lounge. "I'm suffocating, Eleanor. I'm barely six-and-twenty, and yet I feel as if I've lived a thousand years, each one more stifling than the last."

Eleanor knelt beside her queen, her face a mask of concern. "What can I do to help, Ma'am?"

Victoria's gaze drifted to the large windows overlooking the bustling streets of London. The sounds of life - vendors hawking their wares, children laughing, horses' hooves on cobblestones - filtered through the thick glass, teasing her with their vibrancy.

"Do you know what I desire more than anything, Eleanor?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"What is that, Your Majesty?"

Victoria turned to her lady-in-waiting, a spark of mischief suddenly alight in her eyes. "I want to be out there, among my people. Not as their queen, but as one of them. I want to walk the streets without a coterie of guards, to smell the air unsullied by perfumed handkerchiefs, to feel the pulse of London beneath my feet."

Eleanor's eyebrows shot up, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Ma'am?"

The Queen leaned in close, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I want to spend a day as a commoner, Eleanor. Incognito. No guards, no advisors, no one telling me where to go or what to do. Just one day to experience life as my subjects do."

Eleanor's eyes danced with excitement. "It's a thrilling idea, Your Majesty, but incredibly risky. How would we even begin to-"

"We?" Victoria interrupted, her eyebrow arched in amusement.

"Well, of course, Ma'am," Eleanor replied with a smirk. "You didn't think I'd let you embark on such an adventure alone, did you?"

Victoria's face broke into a wide grin, the first genuine smile she'd worn in weeks. "Oh, Eleanor, you wonderful woman! I knew I could count on you." She grabbed her lady-in-waiting's hands, squeezing them tightly. "Now, help me plan. How shall we disguise ourselves? Where shall we go?"

As the two women huddled together, their voices dropped to excited whispers, punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter. They were so engrossed in their plotting that they barely noticed a nervous footman enter the room, his eyes widening at the sight of the scattered tea set.

"Y-Your Majesty?" he stammered. "The Prime Minister and the Archbishop are waiting in the Blue Drawing Room for your audience."

Victoria waved a dismissive hand, not even bothering to look at the man. "Tell them I'm indisposed. We'll reschedule for tomorrow."

As the footman scurried away, Victoria turned back to Eleanor, her eyes glittering with anticipation. "Now, my dear friend, let's plan our great escape. Tomorrow, London won't know what hit it!"

* * *

"Ow! Blimey, that hurts!" Queen Victoria exclaimed, her voice a peculiar mix of refined elocution and attempted cockney. She winced as Eleanor tugged at the laces of a simple corset, pulling it tight around the monarch's waist.

Eleanor stifled a laugh. "Your Majesty, I'm afraid 'blimey' isn't quite the word a working-class woman would use if her corset was pinching. Perhaps try 'bloody hell' instead?"

Victoria's eyes widened, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Bloody hell, then! Bloody hell, this corset's tighter than a miser's purse strings!"

The two women erupted into giggles, the sound echoing off the ornate walls of the Queen's private chambers. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating the chaos of their clandestine preparations. Dresses of rough wool and faded cotton lay strewn across the four-poster bed, a stark contrast to the silk and satin gowns that usually adorned the royal wardrobe.

As their laughter subsided, Eleanor stepped back to survey her handiwork. Victoria stood before her, almost unrecognizable in a simple brown dress, its hem slightly frayed and its bodice patched in places. Her usually elaborate coiffure had been replaced by a simple bun, wisps of brown hair escaping to frame her face.

"Now for the finishing touches," Eleanor murmured, reaching for a small pot of stage makeup. With deft strokes, she added a few freckles to Victoria's nose and cheeks, then smudged a bit of dirt along her jawline. "There. You look positively common, Your Majesty."

Victoria turned to the full-length mirror, her breath catching in her throat. The woman who stared back at her was a stranger – a simple, hardworking woman of London, with no hint of the crown that usually weighed so heavily upon her brow.

"It's remarkable," she whispered, turning this way and that to examine her transformation. "But Eleanor, what if someone recognizes me? What if-"

Eleanor placed a reassuring hand on Victoria's shoulder. "Ma'am, I assure you, even I would struggle to identify you if I passed you on the street. But remember, the disguise is only half the battle. You must act the part as well."

Victoria nodded, squaring her shoulders. "Right then. How's this?" She adopted a slouched posture and affected a thick cockney accent. "Oi, guv'nor! Fancy a pint down at the local?"

Eleanor burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Perhaps a bit less exaggerated, Your Majesty. Most Londoners don't actually sound like characters from a penny dreadful."

As Victoria practiced her accent, softening the harsh edges and finding a more natural cadence, Eleanor provided a steady stream of advice. "Remember to avoid eye contact with your betters – which, today, is nearly everyone. Keep your head down, your shoulders slightly hunched. And for heaven's sake, try not to walk like you're leading a royal procession."

Victoria absorbed the instructions eagerly, her excitement palpable. As she practiced her new gait, she stumbled slightly, catching herself on the edge of a nearby chaise lounge. "Goodness," she laughed, "I never realized how much my bearing was influenced by my upbringing."

Eleanor smiled softly, a hint of concern in her eyes. "It's not just your bearing, Ma'am. Your entire life has been shaped by your position. This adventure... it may be more challenging than you anticipate."

Victoria paused, her expression growing thoughtful. "You're right, of course. But that's precisely why I must do this, Eleanor. How can I truly understand and serve my subjects if I've never walked a day in their shoes?" She reached out, clasping Eleanor's hands in her own. "This isn't just about escaping the confines of the palace. It's about becoming a better queen."

Eleanor squeezed Victoria's hands, her eyes shining with admiration. "Your Majesty, your dedication to your people is truly inspiring. I have no doubt that this experience will shape your reign in ways we can't yet imagine."

As the first rays of dawn began to paint the sky outside, Victoria took a deep breath, steeling herself for the adventure ahead. "Well, then," she said, her voice a perfect blend of common accent and regal determination, "shall we go and meet the people of London?"

Eleanor nodded, a conspiratorial grin on her face. "Indeed we shall, Your Maj- I mean, indeed we shall, Vicky."

The two women crept through the opulent corridors of Buckingham Palace, their footsteps muffled by thick carpets. Victoria's senses were heightened, every creak and groan of the ancient building sending a jolt of adrenaline through her veins. The familiar scents of beeswax polish and fresh flowers now seemed cloying and overwhelming, fueling her desire to escape into the crisp morning air.

As they approached a junction in the hallway, Eleanor suddenly threw out an arm, halting Victoria in her tracks. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed off the marble floors, growing louder with each passing second.

"Quickly, in here," Eleanor hissed, pulling Victoria into a small alcove hidden behind a heavy velvet curtain. The two women pressed themselves against the wall, hardly daring to breathe as a pair of guards passed by, their voices low in conversation.

"Did you hear about the Prince Consort?" one guard muttered. "Left for Coburg last night. Some urgent business with his family, they say."

Victoria's eyes widened at the news. She'd known Albert was planning a trip, but not that he'd left so suddenly. A pang of guilt twisted in her stomach, quickly replaced by a surge of relief. His absence would make their escape that much easier.

As the guards' footsteps faded, Victoria and Eleanor emerged from their hiding place. "Well," Victoria whispered, a mischievous grin spreading across her face, "it seems fortune favors the bold. Shall we press on?"

They continued their clandestine journey through the palace, ducking into shadows and holding their breath at every creak and groan. Finally, they reached a small side door that led to the gardens. Eleanor produced a key from her pocket, her hands trembling slightly as she turned it in the lock.

The door swung open, and a gust of cool morning air rushed in, carrying with it the scents of damp earth and blooming flowers. Victoria inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment to savor the sensation of freedom that lay just beyond the threshold.

"Your Majesty," Eleanor whispered urgently, "we must hurry. The gardeners will be here soon."

Victoria nodded, gathering her skirts as she stepped out into the garden. The dewy grass soaked through her thin shoes, a stark reminder of the luxuries she was leaving behind. As they hurried along the winding paths, Victoria's heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of exhilaration and fear coursing through her veins.

They reached the garden wall, where a small gate stood partially hidden behind a thick tangle of ivy. Eleanor fumbled with another key, her hands shaking more noticeably now.

"Eleanor," Victoria said softly, placing a hand on her friend's arm. "Are you alright?"

Eleanor took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Victoria's. "I'm terrified, if I'm being honest, Ma'am. If we're caught..."

"We won't be," Victoria assured her, though her own voice held a tremor of uncertainty. "And if we are, I'll take full responsibility. You've been a true friend, Eleanor. I couldn't do this without you."

A moment of understanding passed between them, years of shared confidences and quiet rebellion culminating in this daring escape. Eleanor nodded, squaring her shoulders as she turned back to the gate.

With a soft click, the lock gave way, and the gate swung open. Beyond it lay the bustling streets of London, already coming to life as vendors set up their stalls and early risers hurried to work. The cacophony of city sounds – horses' hooves on cobblestones, shouted greetings, the distant whistle of a steam engine – washed over them, a siren song of adventure and possibility.

Victoria paused at the threshold, one foot on palace grounds and one in the world beyond. She turned to Eleanor, her eyes shining with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. "Well, my dear friend," she said, adopting her practiced common accent, "shall we go and meet the people of London?"

Eleanor smiled, linking her arm through Victoria's. "Indeed we shall, Vicky. Indeed we shall."

With a shared laugh of nervous excitement, the two women stepped through the gate and into the teeming streets of London, leaving behind the gilded cage of Buckingham Palace and embracing the promise of a day filled with discovery, danger, and the intoxicating taste of freedom.

* * *

The cacophony of voices hit Victoria like a physical force as she stepped into the heart of Covent Garden Market. The din was deafening - a symphony of shouts, laughter, and heated haggling that seemed to assault her from all sides. She stumbled, momentarily overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations.

"Careful there, love!" A burly man with a face like weathered leather steadied her with a meaty hand. "Market's no place for woolgathering. You'll get trampled sure as eggs is eggs!"

Victoria mumbled her thanks, her carefully practiced accent momentarily forgotten in her daze. The man had already moved on, disappearing into the sea of bodies that surged around her. She felt Eleanor's steadying presence at her elbow, grounding her in the chaos.

"Blimey," Victoria breathed, remembering her role. "I never imagined it'd be like this!"

Eleanor smiled knowingly. "Welcome to the real London, Your- I mean, Vicky."

They pushed their way through the crowd, assaulted by a riot of smells - the earthy aroma of fresh vegetables, the pungent odor of fish, the yeasty scent of warm bread. Victoria's eyes darted from stall to stall, drinking in the vibrant displays of goods. Pyramids of apples gleamed like jewels, their red and green skins polished to a high shine. Strings of sausages dangled from hooks, their spicy scent making her mouth water despite the hearty breakfast she'd consumed mere hours ago.

A shrill voice cut through the din. "Oi! You trying to rob me blind, you mangy git?"

Victoria's head whipped around to see a red-faced woman brandishing a bunch of carrots at a hapless-looking man. "These ain't worth tuppence, let alone a shilling! You must think I'm soft in the head!"

The vendor, a wiry fellow with a jutting chin, planted his fists on his hips. "Soft in the head? More like hard of hearing! I said fourpence, clear as day! Now are you buying or not? I ain't got all day to stand about jawin' with you!"

Victoria watched, fascinated, as the two continued their heated exchange. She'd never witnessed such unbridled emotion, such raw and unfiltered interaction. In the palace, disagreements were couched in polite phrases and veiled implications. This... this was life, unvarnished and real.

As they moved deeper into the market, Victoria's initial shock gave way to a giddy sort of excitement. She found herself swept up in the energy of the place, her eyes wide as she took in every detail. A flower seller with a cart piled high with vibrant blooms caught her eye, and on impulse, she approached.

"How much for a bunch of those lovely daisies?" she asked, proud of how natural her accent sounded.

The old woman squinted at her, then at the flowers. "Tuppence a bunch, dearie. Fresh picked this morning, they was."

Victoria fumbled with the unfamiliar coins in her pocket, eventually producing the correct amount. As she accepted the flowers, their sweet scent wafting up to her, she felt a surge of pride. She'd completed her first transaction as a commoner!

Her elation was short-lived, however. As they rounded a corner, Victoria's eyes fell upon a sight that made her blood run cold. A group of children, none older than ten or eleven, were hauling heavy crates from a cart to a nearby shop. Their faces were smudged with dirt, their clothes little more than rags. One boy, struggling under the weight of his load, stumbled and fell to his knees.

"Get up, you lazy good-for-nothing!" A man's voice boomed, and Victoria watched in horror as a burly shopkeeper raised his hand menacingly.

Before she could think, Victoria surged forward. "Stop!" she cried, her carefully practiced accent slipping in her distress. "How dare you treat a child so!"

The shopkeeper turned, his face mottled with anger. "Mind your own business, woman! These brats are paid fair and square. If they don't work, they don't eat. Simple as that."

Victoria felt as though she'd been struck. Paid? These were mere children! In her sheltered world of palaces and tea parties, she'd had no idea such practices existed. She looked at the boy, still on his knees, his eyes wide with fear and something else... resignation. This, she realized with a sickening lurch, was his normal.

As Eleanor gently but firmly pulled her away, murmuring about not drawing attention, Victoria's mind raced. How many more children were out there, laboring in conditions unfit for animals, let alone young ones? How had she, the Queen of England, been so blind to the suffering of her smallest subjects?

As Victoria and Eleanor wandered through the winding streets of London, the weight of their earlier encounter with the child laborers hung heavy in the air. Victoria's mind whirled with a mixture of shock, guilt, and determination to address the injustices she'd witnessed. So lost in thought was she that she barely noticed when Eleanor's steadying presence disappeared from her side, swallowed up by the crowd.

"Eleanor?" Victoria called out, her voice trembling slightly as she realized she was alone in the unfamiliar maze of narrow alleys and bustling thoroughfares. The faces of passersby blurred together, a sea of strangers going about their daily lives, oblivious to the lost queen in their midst.

Victoria's heart raced as she spun in a circle, trying to get her bearings. The grand spires of St. Paul's Cathedral loomed in the distance, but the surrounding buildings seemed to close in around her, unfamiliar and imposing. She stumbled backward, bumping into a group of women carrying baskets of laundry.

"Watch where you're going, you silly chit!" one of them snapped, shooting Victoria a glare.

"I-I'm sorry," Victoria stammered, her carefully practiced accent slipping in her distress. "I seem to have lost my way. Could you perhaps...?"

But the women had already moved on, leaving Victoria alone once more. She leaned against a grimy brick wall, fighting back tears of frustration and fear. How could she, the Queen of England, be so utterly lost and helpless in her own capital?

"You alright there, miss?" a kind voice broke through her panic. Victoria looked up to see a woman in her early thirties, her face careworn but lit by a gentle smile. She held the hand of a young boy, no more than five or six, who peered at Victoria with undisguised curiosity.

"I... I'm afraid I've lost my way," Victoria admitted, forcing herself back into character. "And my friend. I don't know how to get back to... to where I'm meant to be."

The woman's smile widened. "Well, we can't have that, can we? You look half-frozen and scared out of your wits. Why don't you come with us? We were just heading home for our midday meal. You can warm up and get your bearings, maybe have a bite to eat if you're hungry."

Victoria hesitated for a moment, her royal training screaming at her to maintain distance and decorum. But the woman's kind eyes and the growling in her stomach won out. "That's... that's very kind of you. Thank you."

"I'm Margaret Dawson," the woman said as they began walking. "This is my son, Tommy. My husband, Jack, should be home from the docks for lunch as well."

"I'm... Vicky," Victoria replied, the lie tasting strange on her tongue. "Vicky Bennett."

They made their way through a maze of narrow streets, the buildings growing shabbier and more crowded with each turn. Finally, Margaret led them into a small, dimly lit tenement building. The stairs creaked ominously as they climbed to the third floor, and Victoria had to stifle a cough at the musty air.

The Dawsons' home was a single room, barely large enough to contain a bed, a table with three mismatched chairs, and a small stove in the corner. Despite its cramped quarters, it was meticulously clean, with a faded but cheerful curtain hanging in the single window.

"It's not much," Margaret said apologetically as she ushered Victoria inside, "but it's home."

Before Victoria could respond, the door burst open again, and a burly man with kind eyes and work-roughened hands entered. "Maggie, love! You'll never believe the day I've had at the docks..." He trailed off as he noticed Victoria. "Oh, hello there. Who's this?"

Margaret quickly explained the situation as she bustled about, pulling out an extra chair and setting a pot of something to heat on the stove. Victoria watched in fascination as the family moved around each other with practiced ease in the tiny space.

"Well, any friend of Maggie's is welcome here," Jack declared, clapping Victoria on the shoulder with a force that nearly knocked her off her feet. "Though I'm afraid our fare isn't quite what you might be used to, Miss Bennett."

Victoria's nose twitched at the aroma wafting from the pot. "It smells wonderful," she said honestly. "What is it?"

"Just a bit of vegetable soup," Margaret replied, ladling generous portions into three chipped bowls. "With some day-old bread from the baker down the street. He gives us a good price if we wait till the end of the day."

As they settled around the small table, Victoria's heart clenched at the sight of Margaret carefully dividing their meager portions to accommodate an extra mouth. She opened her mouth to protest, to insist she wasn't hungry, but her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl.

"Eat up, love," Margaret urged, pushing a bowl towards her. "You look like you could use a good meal."

Victoria took a tentative sip of the soup, surprised by the depth of flavor despite its simple ingredients. As she ate, she found herself drawn into the family's easy conversation. Jack regaled them with tales from the docks, while Tommy chattered excitedly about a puppy he'd seen in the street.

"And how about you, Vicky?" Margaret asked kindly. "What brings you to this part of London?"

Victoria hesitated, her spoon halfway to her mouth. "I... I wanted to see how people really live," she admitted, a kernel of truth in her fabricated story. "My life has been... sheltered. I wanted to understand."

Jack nodded approvingly. "Good for you, lass. Not many from the posher parts care to know how the other half lives. It's hard, make no mistake, but we get by. We've got each other, and that's what matters."

As Victoria finished her meal, she felt a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with the soup. The Dawsons' generosity, their easy affection for each other, and their resilience in the face of hardship touched her deeply. She thought of the opulent banquets at the palace, the mountains of food often left uneaten, and felt a pang of shame.

"Thank you," she said softly as Margaret collected the empty bowls. "Not just for the meal, but for... for everything. Your kindness means more than you know."

Margaret smiled, reaching out to squeeze Victoria's hand. "Think nothing of it, love. We all need a helping hand sometimes."

[spokenitalics]

top 10 books i read in 2022 (in the order i read them)

the master and margarita by mikhail bulgakov: in the 1930s, the devil comes to moscow; chaos follows. almost 2000 years earlier, pontius pilate sentences the mild preacher jeshua to death. also: kind witches, fireproof manuscripts, the greatest love story ever told;

here by richard mcguire: the corner of a living room from 3,000,500,000 BCE to 22,175 CE, the illusion of time, the joys and sorrows of life, the magic of comic books;

lilith's brood (dawn, adulthood rites, imago) by octavia e. butler: humanity is saved from a nuclear apocalypse by a species of hideous aliens who offer an impossible deal to ensure the continued existence of life on earth. in perfect bulter fashion, tons of discussions about hierarchical structures, gender, language barriers, consent, and the vital need to embrace transhumanism;

the faggots & their friends between revolutions by larry mitchell & ned asta: somewhere in between a fairy tale and a utopian political manifesto, a sacred text from days long gone -- the story of a declining empire ruled by the fascist patriarchy, where gay men, lesbians, feminists, and drag queens live communally, produce art, have sex, and await the next revolution;

earthlings by sayaka murata: three young people become aliens to survive the horrors of modern life. provocative, utterly chaotic, equal parts hilarious and sad;

to the lighthouse by virginia woolf: the epic portrait of a family and of an artist;

nona the ninth by tamsyn muir: god is a man, the divine is most definitely feminine, eating someone is the ultimate way to say 'i love you' -- of bad puns, mismatched families, and the horror of your exes becoming besties;

dolore minimo by giovanna cristina vivinetto: the poetic dialogue between a self-born daughter and her mother-self;

the city and the pillar by gore vidal: a gay man in 1930s-40s america grapples with society's (and his own) prejudices and chases an idealized version of his high school best friend and one-time lover down a path of self-hatred and destruction;

loaded by christos tsiolkas: 24 hours in the life of an angst-ridden gay greek-australian boy as he travels through melbourne in search of drugs, an escape from responsibilities, and something resembling love.

[kyndaris]

Onward to the Gong!

Living in New South Wales, public holidays are few and far between with only 11 official days. That being said, not all of them lead to long weekends. And after the Monarch's birthday in June, we poor Sydneysiders must need wait until Labour Day in October before partaking of another extended rest. It's outrageous, I tell you! Atrocious!

Still, in the spirit of adventure and wishing to relive our halcyon days in the sun, me and a few of my friends headed down to Wollongong to enjoy the salty sea air and swan around their city centre, which is but a stone's throw away from the major hustle and bustle that is Sydney. The only major city one really needs to visit when on the east coast of Australia.

Melbourne, who?

I jest. Melbourne is a perfectly fine city to visit or live. It's just...you know, not Sydney.

Although, it should not be noted that a day trip out to Wollongong was not what I'd initially dreamt up for the long weekend. Oh no. Rather, I'd hoped to road trip to the capital of Australia, Canberra, to catch a performance of RENT. The addition of more people to my travel plans, however, scuppered the idea.

What we got instead was a fancy day out with good food and even better company. It involved lounging at a cafe as we devoured a huge breakfast, watched as a car in front of us mount the central curb before swerving across multiple lanes and tailgating the cars in front of it, and also testing our abilities with a devious escape.

A worthy consolation prize, if I do say so myself.

Better than that, we didn't have any time to pay a visit to Shellharbour, where I would have relived the trauma of my many date fails (he was an earnest young man but not, perhaps, what I was seeking in a life partner).

Our small group of adults of mostly over-30s did stumble upon a protest to Free Palestine, however. By then, it was nearing 4 PM. Why it was so late in the afternoon remained a mystery. But the slogans were, admittedly catchy, and it was far better than the preaching we encountered earlier about how we ought to read the Bible lest we burn in Hell. Even some Mormons passing by were caught in the crosshairs.

As for the reason why, I couldn't say. But perhaps different evangelical groups feel like only their own beliefs are true? And all others are corruptions that don't adhere to the correct teachings?

These mild gripes aside, our day trip down to Wollongong was pretty much a success. Even the planning was an exciting endeavour in and of itself. Although, it must be said, trying to negotiate with friends to agree on a date, an activity and location can be like trying to wrangle kittens. It took no small effort to work around people's different schedules and plans.

And while I would have preferred a slightly more challenging escape room than the one we got, it was, in hindsight, for the best. The escape room was at the Breakout Bar, next to Wollongong Central. It was themed with clockwork gears on the ceiling and tables with the entrances to the escape rooms looking like heavy thick-set lead doors. Arriving early, we were given a brief overview of the escape room and the narrative tying all five of them together.

Once we had reviewed the story, we stored our belongings in the locker, plonked on some steampunk-esque goggles and time travelled all the way to Medieval England on a quest to return Excalibur to the stone it had been lodged in.

Although the escape room was one of the easiest available, our group still struggled to solve some of the puzzles. Of note were the unintuitive nature of the nail tower as it was unclear if the key to a nearby bird cage had been released. This was primarily due to the hidden compartment having to be pulled out manually and there was no audio cue to tell us we had succeeded. Quite a lot of precious time was lost where we tried to find a way to open the hidden compartment through other means (as we thought it was activated by magnets).

One other puzzle stumped us terribly too.

Even when we asked for the easy hint, we were left scratching our heads until we looked at the opposite wall.

If ever I should complain about other people being obtuse, I ought to remind myself that I failed to see a huge red and black shield on a wall (although, to be fair, in our group of five, four pairs of eyes also failed to spot it as well).

Still, we managed to escape the room. With time to spare!

Overall, I'd say the escape room was a success in how it got us all to collaborate with its many puzzles. All of us got to contribute our expertise, allowing us to return Excalibur to its rightful place and head back into Professor B's time machine in order to search for his beloved in another time period.

And while Wollongong is certainly no sprawling Sydney, I like to think we enjoyed our time there: from soaking up the sun at Coniston Dog Beach and contributing to a driftwood hut, to nabbing free chips at Grill'd, having a dessert break at Kurtosh, or buying a couple more books to add to my ever growing collection.

Perhaps next we visit the Illawara region, me and my group of friends can look to a few coastal hikes or perhaps take a gander up on the treetops.

If heading south isn't an option, we can always go horseback trail riding instead!

Australia may not be as vibrant as other countries, but there are many a hidden gem for both locals and tourists to discover. After taking some time to explore the main thoroughfare of Wollongong, I can say there's plenty to do and see in the small coastal city that's only an hour away. An absolute steal considering how far other locations can be in the great big giant country I call home.

[midnight-els]

For @tiltedsyllogism 🥰

Inherited Sins is a Lenara POV one shot about her and Sergei's relationship. I put it aside in the run up to S4 but with the Star City news I am so excited to revisit it soon! Sergei is living openly in the US and Lenara is tasked with telling him Margo is alive for Mind Game Reasons. Cue angst about their different relationships to the state, their own relationship, and Lenara's feelings about her role at Roscosmos/as a senior official in the Soviet regime.

Pool Table Case Fic - basic premise is that Phryne investigates a murder with another detective who's Jack's academy best friend. The victim was found on a pool table. Standard post s3/established Phrack shenanigans happen.

I was reflecting recently that I have never published any of my many proper MFMM case fics because I run out of steam on the case bits. This is by far the most developed of those but it's probably only 60-70% done, with the interesting personal bits being finished and the tricky case bits outstanding. It was a really developmental fic for me, taking a lot of the brunt of practice at getting back into fic writing after a few years away, and I do like a lot of the bits in it so I'd love to revisit it when I have time. This time last year I was literally in the middle of doing a big clean up and trimming the case bits back so it could be published when I decided to take a quick break and check out this show called 'For All Mankind' on AppleTV which could surely have no effect on me 🙃

Extracts under the cut

Inherited Sins

“Why, Lenara?” he called from behind her. She stopped, forcing herself back around to face him. “Why what?” “Why this?” “It’s my job.” For the first time in years, Lenara saw Sergei smile. It was barely perceptible, sad and pitying, but she instantly recognised the seeds of that same look he’d always given her when she was being particularly impetuous.  She wanted to smack it from his face. “Do not think I don’t understand,” he said gently. She couldn’t tell whether it was her training or her warring exhaustion and disbelief that stop the instinctive scoff breaking through the surface. Eyes boring into his face, she swallowed harder than she intended to. “On the contrary, you’ve made it quite clear that you don’t.”

Pool Table Case Fic

Snatching her drink back up, Phryne darted in the direction of the back of the house, sensing more than hearing Jack’s sigh as he followed. “No, no Dottie it’s really fine, really. Please don’t -” Hugh was fretting, trying to calm his agitated wife, Mr Butler watching unconvinced, when they entered the room. His left eye was mostly hidden by a rather impressive bruise, with not a little swelling and a cut on his cheekbone to accent it. Poor man, Phryne thought: even as a Senior Constable he still seemed to be suffering the under whims of Melbourne’s crims. “Inspector!” Dot rounded on Jack instantly. Phryne suppressed a smile at his fleeting passing resemblance to a rabbit caught in a headlight. Jack schooled his features into a professional mask and, using an equally official voice, tried to mollify her. “I do apologise for the condition of your husband this evening, Mrs Collins. I’m afraid there was a disturbance at the station, it really couldn’t be helped. I assure you, the situation is in hand now.” “It couldn’t be helped?! Hugh said you had Jenkins arresting a bunch of good-for-nothings. The only thing that boy is capable of arresting is a couple of children who’ve escaped from Catechism!” Phryne again pressed her lips into a thin line, struggling to hold her amusement in. Really, Dot could cow their constabulary counterparts so well they might both as well have been as green as the unfortunate Jenkins.