#new world cross z

[girlinafairytale]

how does this not make you angry? how utterly messed up it is that we live in a world that this news has become common? how does the bombing of a school that shelters refugees stop mattering?

the occupation keeps bombing hospitals and schools and refugee camps and destroys aid. they commit multiple massacres every single day. everything has become more expensive as no aid has entered gaza since may.

affording basic necessities has become increasingly difficult in the last few months. palestinians have resorted to fundraising in order to tackle this.

alaa is a mother of two children and is hoping to evacuate her family from gaza once the crossing reopens. till then, she is fundraising to afford necessities. she has been verified by 90-ghost. you can commission some les mis art for a donation of €20. fill this form after donating.

@buttercuparry @timetravellingkitty @jezior0  @neptunerings @khanger

@determinate-negation @transmutationisms @sylvianritual @imjustheretotrytohelp @sunflowersmoths

@maaszeltov @zigcarnivorous @armysurplus @executing @irangp

@fly-sky-high-09  @maoistyuri @noble-kale @thedailydescent @ramshackledtrickster

 @forgetfulrecord  @lesbianmaxevans @fading-event-608 @repulsion @z-moves

@gusherbug @autisticmudkip @tiredguyswag @briarhips  @chilewithcarnage

@theropoda @heydreamchild @galactic-mermaid @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @roadimusprime

@thatsonehellofabird @thedigitalbard @gorillawithautism @opencommunion @postanagramgenerator

@comrademango @heydreamchild @turtletoria @prisonhannibal @chokulit

@murderbot @andiv3r-reblogging @akajustmerry @tamamita @death2germany

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING SPOILED !!! FERNANDO A. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she could easily get away with things and when she couldn’t, he always made sure to put her back in her place

content warning: smut (minors dni!), pwp(ish?), what is context, explicit language, themes of jealousy and sugar daddy/baby relationship, degradation, dumbification, spitting, dacryphilia, impact play, brief mention of oral sex (m receiving), brat taming (dom!fernando), brief lance stroll x reader interaction, shitty smut, what’s beta reading we just rawdog our writing in here

note: i will be making a separate masterlist for this i think… lmk what you think and enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

send your 💌re:moony’s planner requests here!

she can get away from a lot of things. she knew that. fernando knew that. 

in fact, fernando would even reward her for it. after all, she never demanded too much and all he wanted was to give her the world.

she wanted a new pair of shoes? he’d buy her the sneakers AND a pair of red bottoms. she wanted something from macy’s? fuck that; he’d have his assistant book the whole floor of harrods just so she can pick out new clothes for her closet. 

he would give her everything. even if she tends to be very playful and hilarious, he’d give her everything just to see it.

her cheekiness was a welcome distraction from his busy life as a professional racer. she’d often tease him in different ways but not once did she ever cross the lines and tested his patience and limits. she wasn’t really a brat, to say the least— she’d often give up by the time fernando would wrap his arms around her and press kisses all over her face.

and if she didn’t give up her act, he’d put her back to her place. it rarely happened, and when it did— they were rough. she would continue to act up just so he could punish her. she welcomed the pain with no hesitation and allowed him to control her like she was nothing but a body to be tossed around. 

she could get away from a lot. whenever she couldn’t, her excitement would soak through her knickers while thinking about his next move.

but right now, she wasn’t really at fault for being so bratty. her petulant attitude toward him wasn’t something that she expected from herself, but when her partner continued to ignore her throughout the party after arriving separately— the least she could do was throw his attitude right back at him. more petulantly, if you were to compare her actions to his.

she sat by the bar counter and quietly sipped on her drink, her ears ringing at the sound of his laughter from the distance alongside other men while they spoke about the happenings during the race earlier today.

she looked so pathetic like this; dressed up in the prettiest slip dress that turned to be a fabric of despair. she was the prettiest woman to have ever existed, and even the rest of the grid thought so, yet she looked so alone. she blamed fernando for this. 

all she wanted was him. she only wanted him right now. nothing more, nothing less. 

yet, in a world where he’d give her everything, he wouldn’t hand himself over to her. instead, he was laughing with lewis and carlos as they chatted about whatever the fuck it was. 

“you’d make a good renaissance painting,” her head shot up at the sound as she found lance stroll sitting next to her. the canadian beamed at her teasingly before sipping on his whiskey on the rocks. 

she scoffed, “if you want to see me naked, just say that.” 

lance laughed over the club music that continued to bust everyone’s eardrums. he then continued, “i would say that but do i really want to get my engines busted by a certain teammate before the next race?” 

her thoughts drifted back to fernando, who, from afar, had gone quiet (not that she knew that), before she rolled her eyes. “don’t be stupid,” she said, “i don’t think he’d care enough to ruin your car.” 

“you’re underestimating the man,” lance chuckled, “way too much, if anything. he could kill with just a look if anyone’s made a passing comment about you.” 

“i really should stop showing up at these stupid races,” she muttered quietly, “it’ll get worse as soon as people find out i hang out in the garages or paddock.”

“why?” lance asked, his frown an evident of concern as he said, “are you two not a…” 

“no, we’re not,” she interrupted with a huff, downing the rest of her drink as she continued, “it’s still the same arrangement. i could just stay at home and still get an allowance— i dunno why i said i’d come with him. look where i am now. he’s doing the same shit he does whenever he’s arriving at the paddock— i have to go after him so nobody knows who i am.” 

it was so obvious that she and fernando should be more than a mutually beneficial arrangement. he showed her something more than financial support and casual intimacy— yet he kept it on the down low as if she’s just a pastime. 

“damn,” lance muttered, offering her a sympathetic smile as he said, “is the money that good?”

“i don’t even care about the money anymore,” she laughed quietly, her eyes pausing from their track as she saw the obvious glare from her partner. he certainly wasn’t happy with what he was seeing.

yet she ignored his heavy scowl as she beamed, “i’m sure you’d be able to provide more if it was about it.” 

lance smirked lazily, now realizing what she was implying as he replied, “i’m sure i would’ve given it to you already if you weren’t as attached to fernando as you are now.” 

looking away from fernando, she covered her excitement and petulance with a giggle before she shoved lance lightly. “shut up.” 

sure, she could get away from a lot of things. but the way fernando stared at her coldly while she was acting all playful towards lance told her enough about the kind of treatment a spoiled brat like her would get from him. 

all she could do was squirm at the thought. 

her mouth let out a shrill cry as fernando pulled her mouth away from his cock, saliva dribbling down her chin to her chest as she felt a sharp pain on the roots of her head. he continued to grab a handful of her hair as he looked down at her. 

his eyes showed nothing of affection. his face offered nothing but mockery and anger. not towards her— but her bratty attitude that she showed tonight. 

he never felt so jealous until he saw lance talking to her up close. and he’s never been angrier than what he felt when she let his teammate get close like that. like she could just move on after talking to the man with a flirtatious smile and get away from her crimes that easily. 

her petulance and constant refusal on the way back to the hotel led to where she was now. her thighs rubbed against each other while tears trickled down her reddening cheeks.

she was desperate for his cock and his touch. both of which she didn’t even deserve despite being his spoiled girlfriend.

she tried to be prideful and strong as she refused to listen to his orders. 

it was too bad for her because while she thought that her pride was big, fernando alonso’s pride was bigger. his ego and his desire to control were what she enjoyed most about this— and these were his tools to tame her. 

“did you think that you can get away from that, hermosa?” he spewed out, watching her as she shut her eyes tightly and shook her head. “not listening to me and letting those men get near you— you’re not very smart, are you?”

“m- fer—“ she babbled, only to be interrupted by the clicking of his tongue as his other hand gripped her chin tightly. finally letting go of her hair, he tilted her chin up to his direction without a word. 

he growled quietly, “you’re such a disobedient girl. a very ungrateful and disobedient girl. you don’t deserve my cock after all of this, hermosa.”

“n- no! please-“ she exclaimed, squirming against the hold on her chin as she pleaded with him, “‘ll be good! i’ll be a good girl, i pr- promise. jus’ wan’ your cock- please nando!” 

his breath fanned on her face as he chuckled quietly, “you don’t listen to me unless you want it, hm?”

his hand let go of the grip for a moment, only for his palm to strike her cheek as he gripped her face once more. “open.” 

her brain, feeling hazy from the impact of his slapping and being deprived of his touch and his cock, short circuited. fernando tsked, tapping her reddening cheek once more as he crooned, “look at you, amor. you’re so dumb for my cock, eh? such a stupid bratty girl— wanting my cock when she doesn’t deserve it— open your mouth, hermosa.” 

she obliged, not wanting to disobey him anymore as he grinned. his grin eventually turned into a frown before spitting in her mouth as he demanded, “you know what to do.”

closing her mouth, she swallowed without a hesitation while her glistening eyes looked up at him.

“so you listen then,” he laughed mockingly, “i thought i’ve already fucked your mouth until you turned stupid.” 

she rubbed her thighs against each other, hoping for some sort of relief as a whine escaped her throat. “what’s wrong, hermosa?” tears escaped her eyes as she continued to plead with him wordlessly. “that’s not going to get you anywhere right now— not after you pulled that shit earlier just so you can piss me off.”

she couldn’t find a way to speak, humiliation and pleasure mixed with her adrenaline as she babbled, “i- i wan’- ‘m…” 

“speak up,” he laughed once more. “you’re way too mouthy earlier— what is stopping you now?” 

she whimpered, feeling too frustrated and already feeling too fucked out. she really wasn’t going to get away with all of those things that she did just to catch his attention earlier.

she just wanted him, but she couldn’t seem to get it all out because of the immense pleasure that she received from being disciplined. 

he chuckled quietly, “you want my cock?” 

she nodded frantically, a series of murmurs escaped her mouth as she meekly cried out, “want you to fuck me, please, please, please nando~ ‘m a good girl.”

“no, you’re really not, hermosa,” he grinned wickedly, “if you were you would’ve known not to flirt with those people. but i guess it was my fault that i’ve left you hanging and horny before we went, no? otherwise you wouldn’t have been that stupid to tease them like you would with me.”

she squirmed again, whimpering at his words as fernando continued, “but i’ve given you so much that you always find a way to get some more. i think that my little slut should be thankful for what she’s getting instead of acting like a spoiled brat.”

she couldn’t even find herself to protest. she was so drunk in lust and his dominance that she couldn’t find herself to fight back against his words. 

her love for him would have to wait. she was in too deep right now and if it meant that she’ll get an orgasm and maybe more then she’d do whatever it takes to please him. 

after all, she was spoiled already. working hard didn’t sound too bad. 

[projectdark-if]

Project DARK is an 18+ character-driven SPY IF inspired by a rather eventful weekend binging on Mission Impossible movies. It can be described as Suicide Squad meets Mission Impossible. MC, a retired villain, will be a new operative in a team to bring down their old best friend.

You were a jewel thief and hired mercenary, outsourcing your skills at thievery and espionage for all types of...shady characters. Yeah, you were aiding in the possible destruction of the world in exchange for money, but details, right?

You were the best in the business alongside your partner, Spider. You're not supposed to get close to people in this business, but Spider somehow weaseled into your life and became your best friend.

But then they died, killed by operatives of Mission Shadow, the one organization that has been hunting you down since day one. You decided to retire, changing your name and identity in an attempt to make an honest and private life of what you have left.

Until Project DARK finds you.

Project DARK: an experiment to put the most together the most skilled shadow villains to train and defeat the biggest threat they've faced.

Your best friend, whom you thought was dead.

They need you and your skills. You know Spider best. No longer are you the villain, but a Project DARK operative joining as the newest recruit to the ranks.

Good luck.

Customize your operative from appearance, personality, gender identity.

Tailor your past: were you a merciful villain, or a merciless one? Did you make enemies or try to make friends? Liked for being kind and easy to work with or hated for being the literal worst?

Romance members of your team or your target, with some having special relationships.

Choose what kind of operative you'll be and shape the dynamic of the team.

Try not to fall into old habits and get sucked into the dark world of crime. You left that life for a reason.

THE TARGET | Spider [m or f]: your old best friend and the new target. They've been busy since their 'death' and have grown a network of connections that can dismantle the world as you know it. They're apparently planning something big. Big enough that the organizations of the world created Project DARK to take them down.

Special romance: can have had previous thing with them that was never confronted or simply have been best friends.

THE LEADER | Elias/Elena Steel: one of the best operatives, personally recommended by MI6. The only non-villain on the team, E is also appointed leader and doesn't like you much, considering the fact that a mission of yours ended with their closest partner dead. While you may have not pulled the trigger, E blames you all the same.

Strict and as cold as steel, it makes sense why E is the one with the team on their shoulders.

Special romance: enemies to lovers. E hates your guts.

THE SECOND IN COMMAND | Nick/Nina Sharma: second-in-command and a retired illegal weapons dealer, N is, surprisingly, E's closest friend. N has long given up that life, but before their new work as a operative, you knew them as a distant associate. You two have crossed paths on multiple occasions, most of them happening with them almost killing you or vice versa. N can't help but be nice, but you can tell they're not really a fan of you.

Special romance: may have had a lapse in judgement and have had a one night stand...or multiple.

THE BRAINS | Zane/Zena Omari: One of the most skilled hackers and a familiar face on the FBIs most wanted list, Z is on the team in order to be able to go back home without getting arrested. Oddly enough, they're not what the media says they are. Friendly, warm, comedic. Z seems to be having too much of a good time, even with the circumstances surrounding their presence.

THE WEAPONS EXPERT | Luca/Lucia Cruz: L doesn't know you much, and doesn't care to. Hyper-focused on the mission, L's disinterest in you is a breath of fresh air. You don't know what they did and how they got here, but you do know they were facing a life sentence. Still, things aren't always what they seem.

Maybe it won't stay that way.

[eroguron0nsense]

The Mysterious Mysteries of Mr Sir Crocodile (Character Analysis)

(Apologies in advance for discrepancies from my usual tone and for holding off on everyone who voted for this on my last poll. Honest to God I hope y'all enjoy this in some capacity because I've been procrastinating on this meta so long it's derailed ALL my other One Piece writing and I only accomplished it through addy-fuelled mania)

This was such a fucking pain to write. I really wanted to say something about Crocodile and what makes him so fascinating that wasn't like, another fan theory or just a set of headcanons, but that's easier said than done?? We could boil it down to immaculate design, screen presence, attitude, or just the fact that he got brought back as an unlikely ally who shocked everyone by saving the protagonist, but I don't know that those factors in and of themselves make for a villain who's become such an object of fandom obsession.

Whatever it is, it's certainly not backstory or depth, because 24 years and hundreds and hundreds of chapters after his introduction, we still know nothing about Sir Crocowani's past beyond a vague confrontation with the Late Great Edward Newgate (that apparently like, ruined his dreams or something?), and some totally-not-just-a-threat-to-out-him-if-he-betrayed-the-alliance blackmail material the Queen of the Queers is holding over his sandy reptilian ass. I was born and grew into adulthood in the time it took Oda to tell the world fuck all about where he's from or his inner thoughts, or his actual honest motivations and traumas.

All we have about this character are questions. Why did he save Luffy and Ace –very conspicuously after both of their lineages were revealed to the world– against all logic and reason? Does he have ties to the revolutionaries? Is he the long-lost son of Rocks D. Xebec? Did he bounce on Comrade Dragon's Monkey D and squirt out the fucking Warrior of Liberation? I assume Oda's going to tell us more about him, but at this point, he's managed to keep a tighter lid on Sir Crocs, Inc.'s past than the fucking Secret History

You may be wondering, dear reader: what the fuck is my point? What is there, at this final stage of Long Running Pirate Manga, for me–Frankie EroGuroNonsense, OP Tumblr Community Z-lister with like, 7 mildly popular meta posts under my belt–to write about the legendary Sir Krokorok that hasn't already been said or theorized? What eagle-eyed observations did I make while rereading Alabasta and writing toxic Crobin fanfic? Am I going anywhere with this? Sorta. Yeah.

Let's start with listing things we actually know about Crockpot, in roughly chronological (??) order: –attended Gol D.'s execution way back when he was my age, along with anyone else who's anyone from his generation.

–At some point, met and was known well enough by Iva that she could effectively blackmail him

–Made it far enough on the Grand Line, somehow getting to the New World, and managed to pick up an 81,000,000 bounty (low end for a warlord, presumably scouted fairly early in his career)

–Wanted to be Pirate King until he gave up on it, not 100% explicitly confirmed but most likely due to getting his ass beat so badly by Whitebeard that he settled for picking off small fry and racketeering behind a government desk job. This makes him profoundly relatable to the rest of us depressed fucking losers who acquiesce to our own mediocrity.

–At 30, after presumably licking his wounds for a hot minute, sets up shop in Alabasta, comes up with a clever evil plan to quietly build up enough arms to conquer the world with a WMD, and then gets his years-long bioterrorist coup attempt foiled by a 17-year-old.

The rest we know: after a brief moment of glory as the unsung MVP of Impel Down/Marineford, he immediately reverts to Failguy Mode, gives all his money to a literal clown, and consequently gets roped into the neverending uncontrollable PR nightmare that is Cross Guild. It's still super vague and we know little to nothing about his past before the Alabasta Saga (for all we know he had a fling with King Cobra)

...Onto his personality and mannerisms. This shit's a lot more revealing. Superficially, he's everything: immaculate Bond villain levels of charismatic villainy, unbelievably ostentatious, dripped out like a Pimp, constantly smoking cigars, absolutely dripping with smugness and grease and disdain. Owns exotic pets and a giant casino, and spends every waking moment either grinning like a maniac when he's got the upper hand or storming around in a fucking mood when anything goes mildly wrong.

He's also pretty hardened underneath all that, obviously couldn't have lived a day on the grand line or survived Impel Down Torture otherwise. But even in Alabasta, Crockery gives off an air of being distinctly more grounded and willing to get his hands dirty than other flashy, established villains who flaunt their wealth and status. A big part of it is just his really hyper-masculine indomitable tough guy persona, but even early on he's very much micromanaging his operation, fighting people hand to hand in (as opposed to, say, Doffy, who literally puppeteers people while lounging around) and makes a point to keep almost all of his followers at a distance and rely on them as little as possible. He rants a bit about how dreams and whatnot are pointless follies, as One Piece antagonists tend to do, and repeatedly taunts Vivi about how her idealism can't save her, but with the context that he wanted to find Laughtale himself, it feels a lot like projection.

The character trait that's harped on a LOT in canon, and probably the most pertinent one to whatever demons he has, is Croconaw's profound pathological distrust for everyone around him. It's a huge part of what makes him a good early foil to the Nefertari family and the Straw Hats, whose collective strength is derived from organic human connection; Crocalor, by contrast, makes sure that up until the very last moment, he keeps most of his people so distant from him that they genuinely have no idea he's even their boss. His relationship with Robin is interesting, but he turns on her immediately when he realizes she either can't or won't give him the location of Pluton and has his dramatic stabbing/"I forgive you" lines about how he never trusted her or anyone from the start. He says the same shit to Mihawk when he suggests they join forces, even citing their mutual distrust as a kind of paradoxical justification for why they'd actually work well together.

Arguably the only exception is Daz Bones, but even that relationship is still a pretty reserved one; one of the few traits Daz exhibits is a similar avoidance of human connections to his boss and even though they've ironically formed a bond despite it, I can't imagine that they're emotionally close. I find these more explicit declarations of paranoia a lot less indicative of what's actually going on in Croconut's head than subtext, but I feel inclined to mention them just because it more or less tells us that his background/trauma has something to do either with betrayal or alternatively just being jaded and deprived to the point of self-isolation.

Krookodile's character gets a little bit more interesting when we get to see him again in Impel Down being a smug little manipulative rascal right up until he gets blackmailed by his endocrinologist, which is definitely medical malpractice but also funny as hell. I also appreciate that literally the first thing he does after getting out of his cell is change into a big coat and cravat to keep up appearances, but it's not until Marineford proper that things get really complicated. Saving Luffy and Ace is the first selfless thing we see Crobat do–while yelling at Luffy that he needs to protect what matters to him properly, no less– and he just keeps fighting for them after that, teaming up with his most hated rival crew to cover Luffy's retreat and telling the entire WG to go fuck itself multiple times over. He fights everyone on sight with no regard for his own safety, talks mad shit to Doffy, and demonstrates a genuinely compelling amount of honest to god chivalry.

For a short time, we see Crocomotive less as a really entertaining cartoon villain and more as a person with hidden, profound emotions and a confusing moral code that's seemingly incompatible with the vicious little creature we met in Alabasta. We come to understand, in a few very brief lines that give us way more questions than answers, that Cromagnon has deep-seated, emotional convictions he actively suppresses, and that whatever baggage he has is probably tied to wanting to or failing to save something of his own. His resentment of Newgate, who he really really wants to have a go at (despite theoretically no longer caring about the ambitions of his youth) is indicative of a desire to revisit the fight that probably ruined his dream and ego, but it's also tinged with a deep-seated grudging respect for a living legend.

Crock–Afire Explosion's obvious seething hatred of Doffy also gives us a few more insights into what's wrong with him. On a surface level, it makes sense that he dislikes a profoundly obnoxious, even flashier fellow warlord who achieved more or less the same goal he set out to in a shorter time, fucks with his business, and then mocks him/tries to recruit him right after his very public defeat and imprisonment. He postures a lot, especially with his lines insisting he's on a higher level and that Doffy could only ever join him as a subordinate, but he's visibly steamed in their initial encounter and clearly hasn't liked him for quite some time. I bring this up because if we stretch our interpretation a little (for the sake of my argument), Croc Holliday's distaste for someone who's (outwardly) so much like himself and embodies all of his villainous characteristics from back in Alabasta might also suggest that deep down, he doesn't actually like the things they have in common; he sees right through Doffy because he's done the same shit and he hates what he sees.

Having gone over all that, I've come up with some key characteristics of Crocomelon that I'll use going forward:

–Extremely performative: puts an ungodly amount of energy into maintaining a carefully curated persona, and projecting a certain amount of power, masculinity, and prestige. Not necessarily an unnatural or inauthentic one, but a constructed and purposeful one nonetheless

–Deep-seated paranoia, hidden secrets; probably intertwined. Keeps personal details on tight, tight lockdown, probably afraid of being known.

–Constant projection of his own insecurities and failures onto other people, making a point to be uniquely cruel in Alabasta to an idealist who loves her people and a dreamer who wants to be the Pirate King.

Ironically, he demonstrably respects and defends two people–Luffy and Whitebeard–who theoretically embody everything he hates or scorns (ambition, goodness, love, connection, romanticism, greatness in the traditional sense) and he intensely dislikes the villain most like himself, or at least the one who shares a lot of his worst characteristics (ostentatious manipulative scheming rat bastard backed by people stronger than himself) –The Grinch's heart grew three sizes at Marineford because of like, the compelling power of brotherly love and reminders of his youth or something

SPECULATION, CONCLUSIONS??

The difficulty with writing anything definitive about Crocko's Basilisk is that he's such a mystery, which functionally lets the fanbase project literally whatever weird personality traits, potential backstories, or anything else they could possibly come up with onto him. So I want to be clear that I have absolutely no interest in theorizing about the specifics of his past or secret identity or potential baby daddy or anything along those lines; I'm only interested in what we can infer about his personality by extrapolating from canon. And the conclusion I keep coming back to, the one that I'm convinced is true on some level, is that Crocodile is living a lie and he fucking hates himself. Everything he does, from how he acts to what he claims to believe, is a desperate effort to cope with his own insecurity and failure and cover up a past version of himself he's deeply ashamed of.

Now, unfortunately, Oda did not conceive of Crocodile as a trans man but stories belong to the people and we can do what we want let's forget about that and play it straight because he's constantly performing gender as a means of compensating for a deep-seated shame and self-loathing from whatever traumas and secrets he keeps hidden. Even assuming he's a cis man, he deliberately chooses a hypermasculine persona with a Capital V Villain moniker and pimp outfit and speech pattern he's carefully curated to project masculine power–physical, political, and financial–and we know it's performance because we see him break kayfabe and get legitimately fucking angry whenever he's confronted by a person like Luffy, who's crazy and brave enough to try and do what he couldn't and risk everything for love and hope that he cannot bring himself to feel for another person, or reminders of the past he tries so desperately to bury.

The lessons he's wrongfully obtained from his past are as follows: Idealism is a weakness. Dreaming is a weakness. Connections to other people and being known are crippling liabilities (If he is, in fact, trans and closeted, that's all the more reason to be existentially disgusted by what he used to be). All the hope he brought to the Grand Line, all the excitement of trying to carry on where Roger left off, needs to be purged and buried because all he got to show for it was loss and humiliation. But he can't stop wanting more, and ironically, after he gives up on conquering the Grand Line, he ends up chasing the same fucking poneglyphs and weapons because his ambition's still there; it's just compromised and much more jaded.

Everything he does that's seemingly contradictory makes sense when you realize that Crocodile resents his failure and wants to avenge himself. He makes a big show of talking down to Luffy and Vivi's petty ideals and shit-talking Newgate and his family, but he still wants to fight Whitebeard like he did way back when and help Luffy protect what matters to him. He hates Doffy, who's honestly just a more successful schemer than he is because it's a constant reminder of what he settled for when he took that warlord post and fucking gave up. He claims to trust no one, but he keeps Daz by his side and rewards his loyalty because he can't help but trust someone who respects him so deeply and follows him to the ends of the fucking earth long after losing the material incentive to do so. He claims to look down on people who aim for the stars and fight for love and joy and freedom and yet, in his most vulnerable moments–not in the face of violence or imprisonment, but when he's emotionally compelled to defend a child and help save his brother–we see how badly he wants that for himself.

TLDR: Crockman Holic is deeply insecure in his masculinity, desperately needs psychological help, and his character/potential redemption arc in One Piece is just dealing with his midlife crisis.

[f14fun]

A Cowgirl's Stars, Stripes, and Speed (!black-!cowgirl-!singer x dr3) (C1)

synopsis: in which case y/n, a bold African American country singer, crosses paths with Daniel, a charming Australian Formula 1 driver, both tipsy and unwound by the night.

prose + smau (20.6K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩z profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

author's note: i desperately had to write a daniel ff, because a) the austin grand prix is nearing and b) i'm terribly sad about his sudden departure. daniel, we all love you so much and wish the best for you! remember to #fea (f' 'em all) <3

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

Austin, Texas had nothing on me.

The dingy little bar — well, to me it was dingy because it was the family bar — was dimly lit, with neon signs casting a faint, almost ghostly glow across the weathered wooden walls. The low hum of chatter mixed with the clink of glasses, and even though it was nearing midnight, the place had only gotten busier. Crowds swayed to the twang of a fiddle in the background, boots stomping across the sticky floor. Outside, the summer heat still clung to the air, making the inside feel close and hazy, like the walls were holding in the laughter and stories of the night.

I’d played more shows here than I could count, my boots leaving their mark on the same stage where my granddaddy used to strum his guitar. Most nights felt predictable, but this one felt different, like the air was charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I wasn’t much for Formula 1 — Texas rodeos and horse racing were more my speed — but I knew every year when the race came through Austin, our little bar saw a wave of tourists eager for a taste of country. And tonight, as I leaned against the bar nursing my bourbon, the buzz of unfamiliar accents swirled around me, a reminder that the city had filled up with people from all over the world, looking for thrills in the dust and heat of Texas.

"Y/N, baby, why don’t you get up there and play a few songs?" my mom said, wiping her hands on a towel as she leaned over the bar. Her voice was soft, but that familiar nudge was behind it — the kind that never really left room for much argument.

I hesitated, swirling the last bit of bourbon in my glass. “I don’t know, Mama... it’s packed tonight,” I replied, glancing around at the sea of faces — mostly tourists, loud and unfamiliar. “Besides, they’re not here for me. Just here for a taste of Texas, right? A rodeo queen, not a country girl with a guitar.”

Mama raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’ve got more than a taste of Texas in you. Those folks would be lucky to hear what you can do. You know that.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of her words settle in. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to play — hell, I’d been singing since I could talk and playing guitar since I was old enough to hold one. But growing up Black in a part of Texas where faces like ours weren’t the norm? That always added a little extra pressure.

Even though our family had earned our place here, built up the bar and our name through years of hard work and music passed down through generations, it never really felt like the eyes watching me were just listening to the music. They were measuring us.

But over the years, we’d carved out a space for ourselves. This bar wasn’t just another honky-tonk; it was ours, The Dusty Rose, and people knew us for more than the color of our skin. Mama’s voice, my granddaddy’s songs, and the family’s grit had earned us some respect in this town. Enough that people came back, year after year, to hear us sing, drink our whiskey, and pretend for a while that we were all part of the same big Texas story.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight, with so many new faces and voices in the crowd, I wasn’t sure I had the courage to step up. I glanced down at my guitar leaning against the wall, its strings worn and familiar, waiting for me like it always did.

Mama’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Y/N, you’ve got the talent and the heart. Don’t let anyone else tell you different. You’re gonna get up there and remind them why they keep coming back.”

I wanted to believe her, I really did. But I wasn’t sure if tonight was the night to take on the weight of all those eyes.

I took a deep breath, running my fingers along the worn edge of my glass before setting it down with a soft clink. “Alright, Mama,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Guess it’s time to remind these folks why The Dusty Rose has lasted this long.”

Mama smiled, that proud, knowing smile she always gave me. I stood up, the familiar click of my cowboy boots echoing on the wooden floor, a steady rhythm that matched my heartbeat. Without another word, I slung my guitar over my shoulder, the weight of it settling comfortably against my back, like an old friend. The crowd was a blur of faces as I walked toward the stage, my pulse steadying with every step.

As I stepped up, I saw Orville already seated behind his drum kit, twirling a stick between his fingers with that lazy confidence of his. His bright blonde hair stuck out in every direction, his face splashed with freckles that made him look like a mischievous kid, though he was older than me by a good ten years. He looked up, grinning wide. “Well, I’ll be damned, look who’s finally decided to grace us with her presence. You plannin’ on singin’ or just standin’ there lookin’ pretty, Y/N?” he teased, tapping his snare for effect.

“Could do both, Orville,” I shot back, my nerves melting a little under the familiar banter.

To the right of him, Clyde was leaning over the keys, his cowboy hat tipped low over his brow. With a name like Clyde and a deep Southern drawl that stretched out his words for days, he was about as country as they came. He looked up at me with a slow nod. “Ain’t no time like midnight for a little serenadin’, huh?” he drawled, cracking a toothy grin. “Folks gonna think you’re singin’ ‘em to bed.”

Then there was Gus, seated on the stool, strumming a lazy rhythm on the bass. He had a scruffy beard, worn jeans, and the kind of build that said he spent just as much time on a ranch as he did on stage. Gus tilted his head and gave me a half-smile. “Late night’s when the magic happens, darlin’. ‘Sides, these tourists don’t know country music 'til they hear it this time of night.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The boys had been with me long enough to know my patterns, and teasing me for wanting to sing so late was their way of easing my nerves. We’d known each other since grade school — back when Orville was the kid who drummed on lunch tables, Clyde would belt out country tunes during recess, and Gus would pluck at strings made of rubber bands, pretending he had a bass in his hands. Now that we were twenty-two, somehow, we still hadn’t split up. Through all the ups and downs, we stuck together, always finding our way back to this stage.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, strumming a few soft chords to tune my guitar, “you all just wait. We’re about to remind this bar why they keep coming back.”

Orville gave his drums a little roll, Clyde’s fingers hovered over the keys, and Gus plucked the bass with a steady beat, all of them waiting on me to start. It was like second nature, this rhythm we shared, a connection built over years of shared songs and late-night jams.

I took one more deep breath, feeling the energy of the room shift toward the stage, my nerves steadying under the soft glow of the spotlight. Time to show them what The Dusty Rose was really about — and remind myself why we never gave up on this.

I stomped my boots on the worn wooden floor, the solid thud cutting through the clamor of the bar. A few heads turned first, followed by more, until the low murmur of voices quieted down after a couple of cheerful whistles and claps from the regulars.

I stepped up to the mic, adjusting the strap of my guitar on my shoulder. “Hey y’all,” I started, my voice carrying over the room. “For those who don’t know me, I’m Y/N. I’m a small singer-songwriter, born and raised right here in Austin.”

Before I could say another word, Gus chuckled from his spot behind me. “Small, my ass. She’s an enigma, and she’s selling herself short, y’all!”

The room rumbled with a few laughs, and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I blushed, turning around to swat him gently on the shoulder. “Gus, you’re lucky I don’t throw my boot at you,” I teased, shaking my head before turning back to the crowd.

“Alright, alright, don’t listen to him,” I said with a smile. “I wanted to play a song tonight that’s a little personal. One I wrote not too long ago... when I found my boyfriend — who, funny enough, was also in the band — cheating on me with my best friend, who used to sing backup vocals.”

A few sympathetic murmurs rose from the crowd, and I could see people shift in their seats, intrigued. “Yeah, it was a mess,” I continued, smiling despite the sting of the memory. “Johnny and Carrie — yeah, those are their real names, y’all — are long gone now. They didn’t just break my heart, they broke the band up too.”

I glanced at Orville, Clyde, and Gus, the ones who’d stuck around. We’d been through hell and back, but we never let anyone tear us down. “But we bounced back. And so did I,” I added with a grin. “This song’s about all that, and how you pick yourself up when the people you trust let you down.”

The room was still, eyes fixed on me as I raised my guitar, fingers poised over the strings. “So, here’s one I like to call Blue.” I stomped my boots once more, giving the boys the cue to kick in. The first slow, mournful chords filled the air, and as I started to sing, the bar held its breath, waiting for the heartache in my voice to tell the rest of the story.

I took a deep breath and let the first notes roll off my tongue, the familiar melody filling the room as my fingers danced across the strings.

"Blue, oh, so lonesome for you Why can't you be blue over me..."

My voice lingered in the air, soft yet steady, as the boys followed in perfect harmony. The crowd had settled into the mood, quiet and still, as if they, too, were feeling the heartache threaded through the lyrics.

"Tears fill my eyes 'til I can't see Three o'clock in the mornin' Here am I, sittin' all alone..."

As I poured myself into the song, my gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when I spotted him. A ruggedly handsome man leaning against the far corner of the bar, his stubble-covered jaw catching the dim light just right, giving him an air of mystery. He had a full head of curls peeking out from under a cowboy hat that didn’t quite fit the way a Texan’s would. He might have been trying to blend in, but it was obvious he wasn’t from around here.

The way he carried himself — that casual yet calculated way of sitting, like he was at ease but somehow apart from it all — made me wonder who the hell he was. Something about him tugged at my attention, even as I sang the words that had been pulling at my heart for months.

"Now that it's over I realize Those weak words you whispered Were nothing but lies..."

My fingers faltered for the briefest second, but I recovered quickly, shaking off the distraction and forcing myself back into the song. Whoever he was, I wasn’t about to let some handsome stranger throw me off my game. Not tonight.

I kept going, but the thought of him lingered at the back of my mind, the heat of his presence warming the room just a little more than it had been before.

The gentle rhythm of Gus’s bass hummed through the room, a steady heartbeat that matched the soulful sway of the song. Each note he plucked seemed to cradle the sadness in my voice, grounding it in something deeper, something raw. Clyde’s fingers danced over the keys, soft and mournful, adding a kind of sweetness to the pain, like the last lingering memory of something you loved but had to let go. Orville’s light taps on the drums gave the song its slow, steady pulse, holding everything together in a rhythm that felt like the ticking of time, dragging me back through memories I’d rather forget.

"Blue, oh, so lonesome for you Why can't you be blue over me..."

The melody wrapped itself around the room, and I could feel the audience sinking into the sadness with me, the song casting a spell over the bar. I was in the zone, letting the music take over, but that rugged stranger in the corner was like a stubborn note I couldn’t shake. His presence tugged at me, even with the sweet sorrow of the keys flowing through the air. He wasn’t watching me like the others; he was studying me, eyes dark under the brim of that cowboy hat that didn’t quite belong.

As my voice rose for the next line, I couldn’t help but glance his way again. His stubbled jaw was clenched like he was thinking hard about something, but there was a glint of something else — maybe curiosity — in his eyes. It unnerved me and fascinated me all at once, the way he didn’t quite fit in, even though he was trying to. And those curls, barely contained by the hat, told me he wasn’t used to this kind of scene. Not here, not in Texas. Not in my bar.

"Now that it’s over I realize Those weak words you whispered Were nothing but lies..."

The bass thudded low, pulling me back into the music. Gus knew just when to make it heavy, the vibrations running through my chest like the ache of an old wound. The keys lifted the sorrow just enough to make it bearable, Clyde’s touch delicate but deliberate. Together, we made the heartache sound beautiful.

But no matter how much I tried to drown myself in the song, I kept catching glimpses of him. The stranger, leaning back casually, his body language saying he was here for the ride, but his eyes telling me there was more to him than that easy posture.

The lyrics fell from my lips, but my mind kept wandering to the question burning in the back of my head: Who was he?

As the final chords of the song rang out, the bar was quiet for a moment, letting the last notes settle before a soft wave of applause rippled through the crowd. I smiled, feeling a strange mix of relief and adrenaline, my heart still thudding in my chest. The boys gave me a few approving nods — Clyde even tipped his hat — and I turned back to the mic, clearing my throat.

“Well, uh, that was a little somethin’ I wrote not too long ago,” I said, feeling the warmth of the stage lights on my face. “If y’all liked it — or if you’re just in the mood to be sad for a bit — it’s out on Spotify, Apple Music, SoundCloud, or whatever platform folks are using these days,” I added with a grin. “I promise, I’ve got some happier stuff too. Probably should’ve started the night off with one of those, huh?”

A few chuckles broke out from the crowd, but one laugh stood out — low and warm, rolling through the room like a wave that hit me square in the chest. It wasn’t like the others. It had weight, something that settled in my stomach and made it twist in a way I wasn’t used to. Almost instinctively, I looked toward the sound, and there he was — the stranger in the corner. His cowboy hat was still tipped low, hiding just enough of his face to make him even more intriguing, but it was the way his eyes locked on mine that made me freeze.

His grin was lazy, like he had all the time in the world, and there was something about the ease of it that made my heart skip a beat. In the soft glow of the bar, it felt like the entire place faded into the background. For a split second, there was nothing but me and him, his gaze holding mine with an intensity I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just that he was watching me; it was like he saw me, past the stage, past the song, and right into that vulnerable place I tried so hard to guard.

And then, just like that, I became a complete mess. Heat rushed to my face, my skin prickling under the spotlight, and I felt my grip on my guitar falter. “Uh, yeah… so, anyway... that’s me,” I stammered, my voice coming out shaky, the words tumbling over each other as I tried to make a coherent sentence. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck, no matter how hard I willed it to stop, and I quickly looked away, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

But it was too late. The boys behind me noticed — of course they did. I could practically feel Gus grinning at my awkwardness, and Clyde was trying to suppress a chuckle. Orville tapped out a light rhythm on the edge of his drum, clearly enjoying my flustered state. I fumbled with the strap of my guitar, my hands suddenly too shaky to be of any use, my mind still stuck on the way that stranger had looked at me.

I’d performed hundreds of times, faced crowds far bigger than this one, but something about that single moment — that one look from him — had knocked me off balance. My pulse was still racing, and the heat in my cheeks refused to fade. He was just a man, I reminded myself, a guy sitting in the corner of a bar. But it didn’t feel that simple. It felt like he’d peeled back a layer of me in that one glance, leaving me bare under his eyes.

And as I fumbled my way off the stage, trying to get my act together, one thought kept running through my mind: Who the hell is this guy, and why is he making me feel like this?

I cleared my throat and leaned back into the mic with a grin, letting go of the last song’s weight. “Alright, y’all,” I started, flashing a playful smile, “that last one was for all the folks who like to sit and think about their exes at 2 AM — you know who you are,” I added, getting a few chuckles from the crowd.

“But this next one? It’s a little different. We’re gonna turn things up a notch. It’s got a bit of rock in it, so feel free to sing, cry, scream, yell—whatever your heart needs. And if you wanna dance, well, don’t hold back. Just don’t blame me if you’re out of breath by the end!”

The crowd laughed, and I winked. “This one’s called Indifferent, but don’t let the name fool you—it’s anything but.”

I strummed the first few chords, letting the energy shift in the room, and the boys picked up right behind me, Orville giving the drums a little more punch, Clyde leaning into the keys with a rock edge, and Gus keeping the rhythm solid with his bass. I was about to really get into the groove when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

The stranger — cowboy hat and all — stood up from his seat, shaking his curls free as he made his way toward a group of people who had started to sway with the beat. And then he started dancing. And I mean really dancing, not just swaying but full-on, carefree moves, like he didn’t give a damn who was watching.

I couldn’t help it — a laugh bubbled up from my chest, and I almost missed a chord as I watched him. He was good, I had to give him that, but there was something about the way he moved that told me he was trying to get my attention. The way he’d glance over every so often, like he wanted to see if I was watching — and yeah, I was watching.

The more he danced, the more I giggled, barely keeping my voice steady as I kept singing. His cowboy hat bobbed up and down as he spun around, clapping along with the beat, and I could tell he was putting on a show, just for me. My eyes met his again, and he shot me a grin, all cocky and playful, making my heart skip a beat.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the song, but the sight of him — carefree, handsome, and definitely showing off — made it hard to keep my cool. My voice caught just a little as I sang the next line, and I could feel my face heating up again, but this time, I was more amused than flustered.

Oh, he’s trying to impress me, I thought with a smirk. And I couldn’t lie, it was kinda working.

I leaned into the mic, my voice steady as I sang the next line, feeling the shift in energy from the crowd.

"I see your truck and I don't give a—"

Before I could even finish, the crowd roared in unison, screaming out the word I didn’t have to sing. “FUCK!” Their voices echoed off the walls, a mix of laughter and rebellion, and I grinned wide.

But the loudest voice? That came from him.

“FUCK!” he yelled, right along with the crowd, his grin even wider now as he danced like no one was watching — except everyone was. His cowboy hat tipped back as he threw his arms up, and I swear, he looked like he was having the time of his life.

I couldn’t help it — I laughed, nearly missing the next line as I watched him throw himself into the moment. My cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so hard, but I kept going, feeding off the energy around me.

"And it don't make my heart skip a beat," I sang, almost giggling through the words, but his eyes were on me again, catching mine as he clapped along with the beat. His dancing had turned into full-on jumping now, and I could see a few others joining in, all feeding off his wild, carefree energy. He was having a blast, and even though I was up on stage, I felt like I was right there with him, swept up in the fun.

I saw him glance at me again, this time with a playful wink, like he knew exactly what he was doing. My heart did that weird little flip again, and I almost tripped over the next verse, the heat creeping up my face once more.

He’s definitely showing off now, I thought, trying to keep my focus on the music. But I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped as I strummed through the chorus. His dance moves might’ve been reckless, but they were working. The crowd was loving him, and so, apparently, was I.

I sang the next line, my voice steady but my heart racing a little faster as his grin widened, his eyes locked on mine. I wasn’t sure what got into me, maybe it was the way he looked so carefree, so unbothered by the world around him, or maybe it was just the thrill of the moment — but before I could stop myself, I tilted my head toward the stage, beckoning him with a playful nod.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but that grin of his never wavered. The crowd cheered him on as he took a few exaggerated, swaggering steps toward the stage, his cowboy hat tipped back and curls bouncing with every step. I laughed, my own confidence rising, and held out my hand as he made his way up.

He took it, and in an instant, we were standing side by side, the crowd going wild as we started to sway together in time with the music. His hand found its way to the small of my back, and I could feel the warmth of it even through my shirt.

The moment felt... electric.

We kept swaying, his towering frame almost comical next to mine, but somehow it worked. His eyes never left mine, and for a split second, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. The music kept going, but everything else seemed to blur into the background. I could see the playful glint in his eyes, the way he seemed to be daring me to look away — but I didn’t.

He leaned down just a bit, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, his voice low and teasing. “Not bad for a country girl,” he said with a wink.

I giggled, blushing like a schoolgirl as I tried to keep my cool. “Not bad for a guy who’s clearly not from around here,” I shot back, but my voice wavered just a little, betraying how much his presence was throwing me off.

We kept swaying, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm, the lights catching the gleam in his eyes as we held each other's gaze. He towered over me, but I didn’t feel small — not with him, not in this moment. It felt like the rest of the world had faded away, and all that was left was the two of us, swaying together under the soft glow of the stage lights.

I took a deep breath, trying to refocus as the music carried me back into the song, but it wasn’t easy. His presence behind me was impossible to ignore, like he was right there, even though we weren’t touching anymore. My skin tingled with awareness, and I could feel the heat rising to my neck, warming me from the inside out. We were both tipsy, the drinks and the night making everything feel a little looser, a little more charged. But the way he was standing so close—his warmth practically wrapping around me—made it harder to concentrate.

"I'm indifferent, I'm just livin' When your mama calls, I'm reminded you exist And I wish that she didn't 'Cause all my 'give-a-damns', they've already been given..."

My voice stayed steady, but I could feel my heart thudding faster with every word. The crowd was clapping along, some of them singing the lyrics back to me, but all I could think about was him. I knew he was still behind me, standing tall, his presence so strong I could almost feel it on my skin.

As I sang, my breath caught just a little when I felt him shift closer, the slightest brush of his arm near my shoulder. It was nothing, really, just a subtle movement, but it sent a rush of heat up the back of my neck, making my pulse race. My voice wavered for just a second, and I bit my lip, hoping no one noticed how distracted I was.

But I knew he did. I could feel his gaze on me, even though I couldn’t see him.

I played a few more songs, each one building on the last, the energy in the room rising with every note. The crowd was alive now, swaying, clapping, and singing along. I felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through me, the nerves from earlier completely gone, replaced by this wild confidence I hadn’t felt in a long time. The music was in my veins, lifting me up, and for the first time all night, I felt completely at ease on stage.

But even with the thrill of the crowd, my thoughts kept drifting back to him. I could feel his presence in the room, like a constant hum just below the surface, and every time I caught a glimpse of his curls or that easy grin from across the bar, my pulse quickened.

As the final chord of my last song rang out, I stepped away from the mic, feeling a surge of applause wash over me. I grinned, tipping my hat to the crowd, but my eyes were searching for him. And then, there he was, standing near the bar, his gaze locked on mine. The cheers of the crowd faded into the background, everything else becoming a blur as I zeroed in on him.

Before I could even believe it, my feet started moving. It was like my body had a mind of its own, dragging me toward him before my brain could even catch up. Each step felt like I was crossing some invisible line, the adrenaline still coursing through me, making me feel bold, invincible.

I wasn’t thinking about anything else but the way his eyes held mine, steady and sure, as I made my way across the room. It was like gravity was pulling me toward him, and I wasn’t about to fight it. Before I knew it, I was standing right in front of him, close enough to catch the faint scent of cologne and the hint of whiskey on his breath.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the heat rising to my face again, but I wasn’t about to turn back. Not now. He gave me that same lazy grin, tipping his hat just slightly as his eyes twinkled with amusement, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.

I opened my mouth to say something — anything — but the words got stuck somewhere between my head and my heart. All I knew was that I wasn’t leaving this bar without knowing who the hell this guy was.

He looked down at me, that lazy grin spreading wider as he tipped his hat back just a bit, giving me a full view of those mischievous eyes. “Well, if I knew your singing was that good, I would’ve pretended to break my heart a long time ago,” he said, his voice low and teasing, with just a hint of an accent that wasn’t from around here.

I blinked, caught completely off guard, and then burst into a laugh I hadn’t expected. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get a song out of me,” I shot back, still feeling the heat in my cheeks but trying to keep my cool.

He chuckled, leaning in just a little, close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off him. “Lucky for you, I’m not lookin’ to break any hearts tonight — just thought I’d make an impression.”

My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met again, and before I could help it, I smiled. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job of that,” I muttered, trying not to trip over my own words.

He straightened up, giving me a playful wink. “Well, I aim to please, darlin’.”

I raised an eyebrow, feeling bolder than I had all night, and shot him a smirk. “You look like you love me,” I teased, the words slipping out with more confidence than I thought I had. The line from that song was on the tip of my tongue, and it felt just right for the moment.

His grin widened, and for a split second, he looked like I’d caught him off guard. But then he leaned in just a little, his voice low and smooth. “Well, maybe I do,” he said, the teasing tone still there but with just enough seriousness to make my heart skip.

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I met his gaze, my smirk fading into something softer. “Careful,” I replied, my voice quieter now, “you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He chuckled, that lazy grin still in place. “Maybe I like the sound of that.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him with a playful smirk. “I saw you lookin’ me up and down from across the room,” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “You weren’t exactly being subtle.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying the banter. “Subtle’s never been my strong suit,” he shot back, his voice low and smooth. “But hey, can you blame me? You were up there making it pretty hard not to look.”

I bit my lip, fighting back a laugh as I shook my head. “You got a lot of nerve saying that out loud, you know.”

He shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “Just calling it like I see it. You’re the one who beckoned me up here, remember?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my composure, but I could feel the heat in my cheeks again. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m not subtle either.”

He tilted his head, giving me that same cocky grin. “No complaints here, darlin’.”

I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. “Alright, mystery man, you’ve been charming me for the last few minutes, but you haven’t even told me your name yet.”

He leaned back slightly, tipping his hat with a playful glint in his eyes. “Name’s Daniel,” he said, his accent wrapping around the words just right. “And you, miss, have definitely made this night a lot more interesting.”

“Well, Daniel,” I replied, giving him a once-over just like he had done to me earlier, “I think the feeling’s mutual.”

I raised an eyebrow, still grinning as I asked, “So, where’s that accent of yours from? I know it ain’t local.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before answering, “Perth. Australia.”

I blinked, genuinely surprised. “Australia, huh? Never been there before.” I paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “Heard it’s nice, though. Beaches and all that.”

Daniel nodded, his grin widening a bit. “Yeah, we’ve got the beaches. But it’s more than just that. You should visit sometime, I’d make a pretty good tour guide.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh, I bet you would,” I said, trying to imagine what it would be like to visit a place so far from Texas. “Sounds like a whole world away from here.”

“It is,” he admitted, his eyes locking on mine again. “But I reckon you’d fit in just fine.”

I tilted my head, feeling a smirk pull at the corner of my lips. “Oh, you think so? I’m not exactly the ‘surf and sand’ kind of girl. I’m more boots and dirt roads.”

Daniel chuckled, his gaze still holding mine, like he was seeing straight through the sass and into something deeper. “I dunno, I think you could rock the Aussie lifestyle. Maybe even swap those boots for some thongs,” he teased, leaning in just enough to close the space between us a little more.

I blinked, the word catching me off guard, and then burst into laughter. “What the fuck are thongs?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You Aussies have some weird ideas about footwear.”

Daniel paused for a second, then laughed, realizing his mistake. “Oh, right... over here, thongs are something else entirely,” he said, his grin turning a little mischievous. “In Australia, they’re just flip-flops. But I like where your mind went.”

I felt my face flush, a mix of the whiskey and the sudden innuendo hitting me all at once. “Well, maybe you should clarify next time,” I shot back, trying to sound confident despite the warmth creeping up my neck. “I was starting to think you had some very bold ideas for this first conversation.”

He smirked, leaning in just a little closer. “Trust me, if I wanted to make a bold suggestion, I wouldn’t be talking about footwear.” His voice dropped low, teasing, as he let the words hang between us.

My heart skipped a beat, and I fought the urge to stammer. “Well, good to know,” I managed to reply, my voice quieter now, my gaze locked on his. “But for the record, boots are staying. Thongs or no thongs.”

He chuckled, the laughter low and warm, and I could feel the space between us shrink even more. “Noted,” he said, his eyes twinkling with that same playful spark. “But if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here to help you pick the right pair.”

I smirked, shaking my head, but before I could respond, he tilted his head, still grinning like he had a whole world of charm left to unleash.

“Well, if I can make it out here to a bar in Texas, maybe one day you could try Australia. I’d personally make sure it’s worth your while.”

I raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Big promises, Daniel from Perth. You must think pretty highly of your tour guide skills.”

He shrugged, a playful glint still in his eyes. “Just sayin’, you might find there’s more to life than boots and honky-tonks. Besides,” he added, his voice lowering slightly, “I’d make sure you’d never forget it.”

My heart skipped a beat, his words sending a rush of warmth through me. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck again, but I wasn’t about to back down. “Careful now,” I replied, my voice soft but steady, “I’m not so easily impressed.”

Daniel grinned, tipping his hat slightly as he leaned back. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to work a little harder then, won’t I?”

I grinned at him, crossing my arms as I leaned against the bar. “You’ve got a lot of confidence, Daniel from Perth. But I’ve been around enough smooth talkers to know when someone’s bluffing.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to keep the playful tension in the air. “Bluffing? I don’t bluff. Just telling it like it is.” He motioned to the bartender. “Let me prove it to you. First round’s on me.”

I laughed, shaking my head but not protesting as the bartender slid two drinks our way. “Fine, I’ll bite,” I said, taking the glass. “But I’ll have you know, Texans can hold their liquor, and I’m not easy to out-drink.”

Daniel’s grin only widened. “Oh, I’ve got my work cut out for me, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

We clinked our glasses together, and before I knew it, the drinks were flowing just as easily as the conversation. Time seemed to blur, the crowd around us fading into the background as we swapped stories and traded teasing remarks. My guitar, once my only focus of the night, now sat forgotten against a pole near the bar, its case propped up and covered with old stickers and layers of chipped paint from the years of wear. But I didn’t care.

“Okay, I have to ask,” I said, my words slightly slurred from the whiskey but still full of curiosity. “How does a guy from Australia end up here, of all places? Texas isn’t exactly next door.”

He took a long sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “Racing,” he replied simply, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “I travel a lot for it. Came for the Austin Grand Prix. Thought I’d stop by a local bar, get a feel for the place. Lucky me, huh?”

I felt the warmth from the drinks spreading through me, loosening me up even more. “Racing, huh? So, what, you’re like a big-time driver?” I teased, nudging him with my elbow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Something like that. But tonight, I’m just a guy trying to keep up with a Texas girl who’s got a pretty good whiskey tolerance.”

I grinned, feeling the heat in my cheeks and not just from the alcohol. “Well, you’re doing alright so far. But don’t think a few drinks and a smile are gonna get you off the hook that easy.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Daniel said, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes held mine for a moment longer than I expected, and I could feel my heart race a little faster.

We laughed together, leaning in closer, drinks in hand, the weight of the night slipping away. The bar around us blurred into the background, as if it didn’t matter anymore — just the two of us, the warmth of his touch, the easy rhythm of our conversation, as natural as the music I’d been playing hours ago. Our hands brushed more often, his arm finding its way around my shoulder, his fingers trailing down my back in moments that felt casual but were charged with something more.

Before I knew it, we were touching more than talking — my hand resting on his arm, his thumb grazing the small of my back. The buzz of the alcohol had me feeling light, and every time his fingertips lingered a little longer, a blush crept up my neck. I could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned closer to whisper something that had us both giggling again.

The next thing I knew, we were stumbling out of the bar, calling an Uber, the cool night air doing nothing to shake the warmth between us. The ride was a blur of drunken laughter, our legs pressing against each other as his arm wrapped snugly around my waist. The city lights flew by in a haze, but all I could focus on was the way his touch made my heart race. His grip on me tightened, pulling me closer, and I was too drunk and too tipsy to even pretend not to blush.

Then, suddenly, we were back at his hotel room. The door clicked shut behind us, and we both broke into a fit of giggles, stumbling inside like we were sneaking in after curfew. His arm never left my waist, and I couldn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach as he pulled me against him, the warmth of his body sending a shiver down my spine.

“Shhh,” I whispered between giggles, trying to stifle the sound, but it was impossible when he looked at me with that boyish grin, like he was having the time of his life.

“Quiet was never my strong suit,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke, sending another wave of heat through me. I blushed even harder, barely able to keep my composure as he pressed his forehead against mine, his hand resting on my hip like he never wanted to let go.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, every inch of me aware of his body so close, his touch gentle but firm, like he was holding back just enough. His breath was warm against my skin, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along my side, and the more he touched me, the more I felt my resolve slipping.

I let out a soft, nervous laugh, trying to shake off the tension building between us, but it only made him grin wider. “You’re really bad at this whole ‘quiet’ thing,” I teased, my voice barely above a whisper as my hand slid up to rest against his chest. I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palm, and the closeness of it all made my own pulse race.

He chuckled softly, his hand tightening just slightly on my hip. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to stay quiet when I’m this close to you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of something deeper than just the alcohol. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, everything else fell away. It was just us, standing there, barely holding it together in the haze of the night.

Before I could think about it, I found myself leaning in, my breath catching as his lips brushed against mine, soft and teasing. It wasn’t a full kiss — just the faintest touch — but it sent a jolt through me that made my knees weak. I blushed again, harder this time, but I didn’t pull away. Neither did he.

Instead, he smiled against my lips, his hand sliding up from my hip to gently cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek. “You’re blushing again,” he whispered, and I could hear the teasing note in his voice.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, but there was no hiding the heat in my cheeks or the way I was leaning into him, my body betraying how much I wanted to be close.

We started kissing, and the night blurred together, in a mess of liquor, sticky kisses, and well what do you know, my guitar lay upright against a chair, watching the entire thing.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

I didn’t know where the fuck I was.

I blinked, staring up at a ceiling that definitely wasn’t mine, with sheets that smelled way too expensive for my budget. My head was pounding like I’d been hit by a freight train, and as I tried to roll over, something — no, someone — stopped me.

That’s when I felt it.

An arm. A very muscular arm. Draped over me like we were starring in a rom-com, except I definitely didn’t remember signing up for this role.

I squinted around the room, trying to piece together the disaster that was my life. My shirt was flung haphazardly across a chair, my boots were tipped over near the door, and... was that his cowboy hat sitting on the dresser? Oh god.

Oh god, no.

And then it all came rushing back — the whiskey, the dancing, the flirting, the thongs conversation. And then, as if on cue, the faint sound of an alarm started buzzing on his phone, because apparently this guy sets alarms like a responsible adult after a night of drunken debauchery.

“Well, shit,” I muttered under my breath.

I lay there, trying to pretend I was still asleep, or dead, or invisible—any of which would be preferable to dealing with the fact that I had absolutely no idea what to do next. Daniel’s arm was still heavy around my waist, his slow, steady breathing telling me he hadn’t woken up yet.

Okay, Y/N, just stay calm. Maybe he won’t even remember… Or maybe you can just ninja your way out of this without waking him up.

I carefully, carefully shifted my leg, inching toward freedom, but the moment I tried to move, Daniel stirred. His arm tightened around me slightly, and I froze, heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to break free and escape the situation without me.

Please don’t wake up. Please just keep dreaming about kangaroos or whatever it is Australians dream about...

But then I felt him shift again. This time, he let out a low, sleepy groan. Oh god. He was waking up. I could feel the warmth of his breath against the back of my neck, and my entire body went stiff, like maybe if I played dead, he’d just go back to sleep.

But nope.

I heard him take a deep breath, and then his groggy voice cut through the awkward silence. “Morning, darlin’.”

Shit.

His voice was raspy, deep, and far too casual for someone who had a front-row seat to my current state of oh-my-god-what-have-I-done. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the ground to just swallow me whole, but apparently, the universe didn’t grant those kinds of wishes.

I cleared my throat, still trying to stay as still as possible, like maybe if I didn’t move or respond, this entire moment would cease to exist. “Uh… morning,” I finally muttered, my voice betraying me with a nervous crack.

I could feel him shift behind me, and then — to my absolute horror — he pulled me in closer, his arm still firmly wrapped around my waist. Great. Now I’m spooning a guy I barely know, and I don’t even have a shirt on. What a stellar life choice, Y/N.

“So… how’re you feelin’?” he asked, his voice low and way too smooth for a guy who probably didn’t have a hangover.

How am I feeling? Like I’ve just woken up in a rom-com, except the comedy is my life falling apart, I thought, but instead, I just blurted, “Fine. Totally fine.”

My face was heating up again. I was like a human tomato at this point. I could feel him smiling behind me, like he was enjoying the fact that I was internally combusting.

“You don’t sound fine,” he teased, his voice dipping into that playful tone that I was beginning to realize was very dangerous for me.

I finally turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He had that messy bedhead look going on — the kind that shouldn’t be attractive but somehow was, and that damn lazy grin hadn’t left his face.

“Listen,” I said, trying to inject some semblance of control into my voice, “we’re just gonna pretend like none of this happened, okay?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, sending a shiver down my spine. “You mean the part where you dragged me back to my room, or the part where you kept giggling every time I tried to be quiet?”

My eyes widened. “I did not drag you back here!”

“Yeah, I think the Uber driver might disagree with that,” he replied, his grin widening.

I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

“You and me both, darlin’,” he said, chuckling again as he gave my waist a playful squeeze. “But I gotta say, I’m not exactly complaining’.”

I let out a nervous laugh from under the blanket, but inside, I was mortified. I wasn’t the type to have one-night stands—like, ever. The last time I had one was three years ago, before Johnny and I started dating. And even then, I’d sworn it off because of how awkward and weird the whole thing felt afterward.

And the last time I’d had sex? Six months ago. Six. I wasn’t even sure how I managed last night, let alone with someone as confident and charming as Daniel. I didn’t do this. I wasn’t that girl who woke up in a stranger’s bed with her shirt somewhere across the room and no memory of how she got there.

I peeked out from under the blanket, feeling my face burning hotter by the second. “I just… I don’t do this. Like, ever.”

Daniel propped himself up on one elbow, still grinning like this was the most entertaining morning he’d had in a while. “Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed like a pro last night.”

My eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god, don’t say that,” I groaned, burying my face back into the pillow. “This is so embarrassing.”

He laughed, his voice softening just a little. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed. We were both tipsy, had a good time, and now we’re just... waking up. Happens to the best of us.”

I peeked out from the pillow again, trying to gauge if he was just messing with me or being sincere. But the easygoing look on his face hadn’t changed. He didn’t seem fazed at all, while I was over here spiraling.

I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the chaotic thoughts running through my head. Okay, maybe I could play it cool too—pretend like I wasn’t freaking out. But as I shifted under the blanket, trying to figure out how to extract myself from this mess, I felt a sudden, horrifying realization.

No bra.

I stiffened, my eyes darting around the room, desperately trying to remember where the hell it went. My shirt was across the room, but no sign of the bra. Oh god.

I glanced at Daniel, who was watching me with that amused grin still plastered on his face. He noticed the moment I realized it—of course he did. His grin widened, and before I could even attempt to form a coherent excuse, he raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, “Looking for something, darlin’? Because I’m not sure it’s gonna walk back over here on its own.”

My face turned beet red. “I—uh—this is just…” I stammered, covering myself with the blanket more securely, like that would magically undo everything.

He let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying every second of my mortification. “Don’t worry, your shirt’s over there, and I think your bra… well, it might’ve decided to take an extended vacation,” he teased, pointing toward the floor, where it lay crumpled in the corner like some sort of defeated symbol of my night.

I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite myself. “This is so not how I thought my night would end,” I mumbled through my fingers.

Daniel leaned in, still grinning like the cat who got the cream. “If it helps, I think you handled yourself pretty damn well for someone who doesn’t ‘do this,’” he teased, his voice full of playful charm.

I groaned, unable to stop the embarrassed laughter bubbling out of me. “Oh my god, stop,” I muttered, half laughing, half dying inside. But there was something about his laid-back attitude, the way he wasn’t making this feel weird or awkward, that made me feel just a little better.

At least one of us was good at handling this kind of thing.

I couldn’t stop laughing now, even though every cell in my body wanted to melt into the mattress and disappear. But Daniel wasn’t letting up, his teasing coming in waves.

“You know,” he said with a grin, “I’ve heard of people losing their dignity after a night like this, but you managed to misplace your bra too. That’s impressive.”

I rolled my eyes, still hiding my face in my hands. “Oh, ha ha, very funny. Maybe I’ll just stay under this blanket forever.”

He chuckled again, sitting up slightly and stretching, looking way too comfortable considering the situation. “Can’t say I blame you. This bed is pretty damn nice. But I’m starting to think you’re just stalling because you don’t want to leave me.”

I shot him a glare, trying to smother the blush on my cheeks. “I’m not stalling. I’m just… regrouping.”

“Right,” he nodded sagely. “Regrouping. Take all the time you need, darlin’. I’ll just be over here, admiring your tactical approach to gathering your scattered clothing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, finally throwing the blanket off and clumsily scrambling out of bed. My hair was a mess, and I was pretty sure I looked like I’d just survived a tornado, but I was determined to reclaim some shred of dignity. As I stumbled over to where my shirt lay crumpled across the chair, Daniel’s voice piped up again.

“Wow,” he said, a little quieter this time, and I turned to see him watching me with an entirely different look—more serious, though still with that glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I gotta say, you’re even more beautiful in the morning.”

I paused, my hand halfway to my shirt, and felt my heart do a little flip. “Really?” I asked, trying not to sound too flustered as I glanced at him.

He nodded, that easy smile still on his face but softer now. “Yeah. Really.”

I stared at him for a second, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks again but in a different way this time. There was something about the way he said it, so casual and genuine, that made me stop caring so much about the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Well,” I said, finally grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head, “you’re not too bad yourself… for someone who’s spent the night making terrible jokes at my expense.”

Daniel laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I can’t help it. You make it way too easy.”

I shook my head, still smiling, as I gathered the rest of my things. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking. I’ll be sure to remember all of this next time I decide to ‘misplace’ my bra.”

Daniel grinned, watching as I gathered up the last of my things, still laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Well, if you ever need help finding it again,��� he said smoothly, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at me with that lazy smile, “you might wanna give me a way to contact you.”

I paused, looking over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you think you’re slick, huh?”

He shrugged, giving me an innocent look that was anything but. “Just thinking ahead. In case you lose any more important items in the future… like your phone, your hat—hell, your sense of direction, since you clearly needed help last night.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “You really think I’m gonna fall for that?”

He tilted his head, flashing a charming grin. “Darlin’, you already fell for it.”

I let out an exasperated sigh, but there was no denying the grin on my face as I grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “Fine, I’ll put my number in your phone. But if I get any messages about lost bras, I’m blocking you,” I teased, typing my number into his contacts and tossing the phone back to him.

He caught it effortlessly, grinning as he glanced down at the screen. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, winking. “Unless you’re the one sending me a distress call next time.”

I shook my head, smirking as I turned toward the door. “You wish.”

“Already do,” he called out behind me, his voice playful and teasing, but with just enough sincerity to make my heart skip a beat as I left the room.

As soon as I stepped out of the room and into the hallway, I let out a long breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. Relief washed over me, but so did the heat rising up my neck and into my cheeks. Holy hell, I actually survived that.

I stood there for a moment, my heart still racing from the whirlwind of the morning. Daniel’s playful smirk, his damn smooth lines—it was all still buzzing in my head, and the fact that I’d somehow managed to walk away with my dignity (mostly) intact felt like a miracle.

But then I caught sight of myself in the mirror at the end of the hallway. Oh no.

I was a mess. My hair looked like it had been through a windstorm, and my shirt from last night was wrinkled beyond repair. The smudged mascara under my eyes was giving me a whole new level of “walk of shame,” and I couldn’t help but cringe at my reflection.

This is what I left the room looking like? Oh, great.

I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth out the wild tangles and make myself look at least halfway decent. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, trying to straighten it out, but no matter what I did, it still screamed “last night’s mistakes.” I wiped away the smudged mascara with the edge of my sleeve, doing my best to clean up the damage.

My cheeks were still flushed from the sheer embarrassment of it all, and no amount of quick fixes was going to change the fact that I had just walked out of a guy’s hotel room looking like a hot mess. I bit my lip, shaking my head at myself in the mirror, my heart still pounding in my chest.

“Well, this is a look,” I muttered to myself, giving my reflection one last, exasperated glance before squaring my shoulders and heading for the elevator. Just get out of here, Y/N. Fast.

I smoothed my hair down one last time, took a deep breath, and headed toward the elevator, praying no one else in the hallway had witnessed my tragic attempt at post-hookup self-repair. The faster I got out of this hotel, the better. I was already pressing the elevator button repeatedly like I could summon it faster through sheer desperation.

Come on, come on…

Finally, the doors slid open, and I practically leaped inside. But the universe had other plans for me, because standing right there, already in the elevator, were Carrie and Johnny.

My heart stopped. I almost crapped my panties.

Carrie, my ex-best friend. Johnny, my ex-boyfriend. Of course they were here. Of all the elevators in this damn hotel. My stomach dropped as the realization hit me like a freight train, and suddenly I was right back in the middle of the heartbreak they’d both caused, except this time I looked like I’d just rolled out of a frat party.

I stared at them, my mind racing, wondering if I could somehow reverse time and avoid stepping into this death trap. But it was too late. I was standing there, and they were looking at me. Johnny’s eyes flicked up and down, taking in my rumpled clothes and messy hair. Carrie’s smile faltered, and her eyes widened, like she was realizing exactly what kind of morning I was having.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“Y/N?” Carrie’s voice was soft but laced with that familiar fake concern. “Wow, it’s been a while.”

Johnny just stood there, staring, that stupid, unreadable look on his face. He didn’t say anything, but the awkward silence hung in the air like a thick cloud.

I forced a tight smile, trying not to visibly cringe. “Yeah, well... things have been... busy.”

The elevator doors closed with a quiet thud, sealing me in with them. It was, without a doubt, the longest elevator ride of my life. I could feel Johnny’s eyes on me, that same calculating gaze that used to make me second-guess everything I said. And Carrie? She had that look on her face—the one that said she was definitely going to gossip about this later.

I stared straight ahead, willing the elevator to move faster, trying to breathe through the tension. Every second felt like an eternity, the silence only broken by the soft hum of the elevator as it slowly, agonizingly descended.

My mind raced. Of all the mornings to run into them, this had to be the one where I was dressed in last night’s wrinkled shirt, and my hair looked like it had gone to war with a curling iron. The fact that I’d just come from Daniel’s hotel room made it worse. Much worse.

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck again, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment over Daniel. It was from pure mortification.

Finally—finally—the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to the lobby. I didn’t waste a second. “Well, this has been… fun,” I said, voice tight, and bolted out of the elevator like my life depended on it.

Behind me, I could feel their eyes still on me, and I could practically hear Carrie’s voice in my head already: Did you see Y/N this morning?

Kill me now.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart dropping into my stomach. Oh no. No, no, no.

This wasn’t just any hotel.

This was Carrie’s hotel. Her family’s pride and joy. The one I had spent countless summer nights in when we were best friends, long before everything fell apart. Out of all the hotels in Austin, Daniel had to be staying at the one owned by Carrie’s family.

I groaned internally, my mind reeling. Of course, this was how my morning would go. The universe just loved to test me, apparently. I could already imagine Carrie’s smug little face, probably telling her family all about how I’d been seen leaving some guy’s room at her family’s hotel, looking like a mess. And Johnny—ugh, Johnny—had been right there to see it all, too. The two of them were probably plotting how to make this even more humiliating for me.

I felt my cheeks burn again, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was from sheer frustration. Out of all the places Daniel could have stayed, this had to be the one. What were the odds?

I shook my head, trying to compose myself, but the realization only made me want to crawl under a rock even more. Not only did I have the most awkward elevator ride in history with my cheating ex and ex-best friend, but now I was in their territory. This was their turf, and I just walked straight into it with no idea.

This day just keeps getting better and better, I thought bitterly, glancing around to make sure neither of them had followed me out of the elevator.

I glanced back at the lobby, memories flooding back from when Carrie and I used to run around this very place, pretending we were in some grand adventure. Funny how things had changed. So much for avoiding drama.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername

liked by user1, user2, and 10,289 others

yourusername: t-3 days until my sophomore album "The Cowgirls, Guns, & Horses" comes out, can't wait for everyone to hear it #tcgh

user1: i'm wayyy too excited for #tcgh i just know ts is too good

user2: everyone say amen for y/n for dropping out of uni to bless us with amazing music

user3: yeah it's literally crazy too , like she was going to be an engineer and literally quit her last year...😦😦

user2: it's lowkey sad but AT LEAST WE HAVE MUSICCC YASSS

user4: guys...did we see her on twt last night w a certain someone....

user5: wait no??!?! hello please fill me in on the tea 📖

user4: basically some op saw her in a bar with a shit ton our tourists, turns out one of them was non other than F1 DRIVER DANIEL RICCIARDO

user5: THERES NO WAY???

user6: wait who's that... i'm so out of the loop for pop culture guys... 😭😭🙏🏽

user7: he's this super famous formula one driver (drives fast cars in weird shaped circles) from australia and he LOVES the country

user8: yeah... he wears a cowboy hat so much its kind of goofy

user9: yeah and allegedly, SOMEONE SAW THEM GO SOMEWHERE IN A CAR TOGETHER 😃💃🏻

user10: DAMNNNN @/yourusername.... was the d fire 🔥🚒🧯

user11: @/user10 LMFAO GTFOOO

user12: wait so i know this album is gonna be lowkey sad but like what if she pops up w some suprise songs about daniel's cowboy...

user13: i'm DEAD what if she actually reads the comments

user12: i would simply pass tf away!!

danielricciardo

liked by user1, user2, and 109,110 others

danielricciardo: Save a horse, ride a cowboy #austingp

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

I slid into the backseat of my Uber, letting out a long, frustrated sigh as I slumped against the door. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, but I waved off any small talk with a quick, “Rough morning.”

As we pulled away from the hotel, I scoffed, shaking my head at myself. Did I seriously just spend money to Uber to and from a booty call? The thought made me cringe. Out of all the impulsive decisions I’d made in my life, this one was quickly climbing the ranks. I mean, come on—Ubering to a random hotel was bad enough, but having to ride back in shame after? That was a whole new level of poor life choices.

By the time the Uber pulled up to my house, I was already mentally preparing to face the walk of shame into my own home. I quietly slipped inside, trying to be as stealthy as possible, when suddenly—

“Boo!”

I jumped a mile high, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest as my younger sister, Maddie, popped out of nowhere, grinning like a cat who caught a canary.

“Jesus, Maddie!” I whisper-yelled, clutching my chest. “What is wrong with you?”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, eyes immediately trailing up and down my disheveled outfit. “Uh, is that the same thing you wore yesterday?” she asked, crossing her arms with a knowing smirk. “Did you... seriously just come back from—”

I slapped my hand over her mouth before she could finish the sentence, my eyes wide. “Shh! Keep it down!” I hissed. “We are not having this conversation out here.”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, but she nodded under my hand, so I let her go. I grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the hall, sneaking into my room like we were plotting a heist. Once inside, I shut the door behind us and turned to face her, arms crossed.

Maddie sat on the edge of my bed, looking way too pleased with herself. “Spill,” she said, not even bothering with a polite lead-in.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Fine. But you cannot tell anyone.”

She mimed zipping her lips and leaned in, ready for the juicy details.

“So…” I began, pacing the room. “Last night was a complete disaster. I ended up—well, you know—at some guy’s hotel room.”

Maddie’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You? Miss ‘I Don’t Do Hookups’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I muttered, flopping down beside her on the bed. “I don’t even know how it happened. We were drinking, flirting… one thing led to another, and next thing I know, I wake up in his bed.”

Maddie let out a low whistle. “Damn. And?”

“And…” I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. “It gets worse. Guess who I ran into on the elevator this morning?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh no, who?”

“Carrie. And Johnny,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

Maddie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “No way. You ran into both of them? At the hotel?”

I nodded miserably. “Yup. Turns out the hotel I was in? Carrie’s family’s hotel. Of course.”

She gasped dramatically, covering her mouth. “Oh my god, Y/N, that’s… that’s awful but kind of hilarious.”

I shot her a glare, though a small smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, hilarious for you maybe. For me? Literal nightmare.”

Maddie giggled, clearly enjoying the chaos of my morning. “So, did they say anything?”

“Not really. Just awkward stares and Carrie’s fake concern. The whole thing was a disaster. I swear, I am never doing this again,” I said, shaking my head.

She grinned, nudging me with her elbow. “Never say never. But hey, at least you’ve got a hell of a story now.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Trust me, I could’ve done without this particular story.”

I stared at the ceiling, still trying to process the absolute train wreck of a morning I’d just experienced, when Maddie’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“So, who’s this mystery guy you hooked up with?” she asked, nudging me again with a smirk.

I bit my lip, hesitating. Should I even say it? It felt surreal—like it wasn’t even real life—but what the hell, I was already in deep. “You’re not gonna believe this,” I muttered, sitting up and bracing myself. “His name’s Daniel. Daniel Ricciardo.”

Maddie’s jaw dropped so fast I thought it might hit the floor. “WHAT?!” she practically screamed, her eyes going wide with excitement. “THE Daniel Ricciardo? You slept with Daniel Ricciardo? As in F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo?”

I blinked, confused at her over-the-top reaction. “Uh, yeah? I mean, he said he’s a driver or something, but... I don’t really follow racing, so I didn’t think much of it.”

Maddie grabbed my shoulders, shaking me like I was the one losing my mind. “Y/N, are you serious? How did you not know who that was? He’s super famous! Like, ridiculously famous!”

I blinked, completely taken aback. “Wait, what? Famous famous?”

Maddie rolled her eyes, like I was the most clueless person on the planet. “Yes, famous famous! He’s one of the most popular Formula 1 drivers in the world! You know, the sport where they race the fastest cars? And, uh, hello, the Austin Grand Prix is in like five days! How do you not know this?”

My mouth dropped open as I tried to wrap my brain around what she was saying. “The Austin Grand Prix? You mean that thing that brings in all those tourists every year?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Maddie threw her hands up in the air, looking like she couldn’t believe my ignorance. “F1 is huge, Y/N. There are races all over the world, and Daniel Ricciardo is, like, one of the biggest personalities in the sport. People love him. He’s been racing for years, and he’s known for being super charismatic and... oh my god, you really didn’t know?”

I shook my head, completely floored. “I mean, he did say something about racing, but I didn’t realize it was that kind of racing. I just thought he meant, like, NASCAR or something.”

Maddie smacked her forehead. “Oh my god, you’re killing me. F1 is way bigger than NASCAR! It’s like the most elite motorsport in the world. And Daniel’s been racing for some of the top teams. How did you not realize you were with an actual celebrity?”

I stared at her, my mind reeling. “So, you’re telling me I just… slept with a world-famous driver and didn’t even realize it?”

Maddie nodded emphatically, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Yup! And honestly, I’m a little jealous. I mean, Daniel Ricciardo, Y/N! He’s a big deal! Girls all over the world would kill to be in your position.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed, my hands covering my face. “Oh my god, I cannot believe this. I slept with a celebrity, and I didn’t even know it. What is my life?”

Maddie giggled, clearly having way too much fun with this. She flopped down next to me on the bed, her grin as wide as Texas. “Girl, don’t even stress. You’re a celebrity now too! You and Daniel Ricciardo? That’s some next-level, power couple stuff right there.”

I groaned louder, pressing my palms against my face. “Maddie, stop. I’m not a celebrity. I’m a girl who just had a really, really embarrassing one-night stand.”

She nudged me with her elbow, smirking. “Nah, you’re thinkin’ too small, sis. Just picture it! You’re up on stage with your guitar, singin’ your heart out, and Daniel’s out there in the crowd, front and center, lookin’ all fine and proud of his lil’ cowgirl.”

I rolled over onto my side, staring at her in disbelief. “Maddie, please. You’re daydreamin’ way too hard right now.”

But she wasn’t even listening, lost in her own fantasy. “Y’all could be, like, the ultimate couple. Country singer and an F1 driver? Hell, people would eat that up! He’d be all, ‘This here’s my gal, Y/N,’ and you’d be sittin’ there in the paddock, rockin’ those fancy hats like a boss. Shoot, you two would be in all the magazines!”

I shot her a look. “Maddie, we’re not even dating. It was one night, and I barely knew who he was until five minutes ago.”

She waved her hand, brushing off my concerns like dust off a pair of boots. “Psh, technicalities. I’m just sayin’, y’all could make waves. You’d be the talk of Texas and everywhere else too. Like a regular old-fashioned Bonnie and Clyde, but with less crime and more racin’.”

I laughed despite myself. “Yeah, sure. A cowgirl and a race car driver. That’ll be the day.”

Maddie wiggled her eyebrows. “Hey, you never know! Y’all could be splittin’ your time between the racetrack and the rodeo. And if anyone can pull off being a celebrity couple, it’s my big sis.”

I sat up, shaking my head but unable to keep the smile off my face. “You’re ridiculous.”

She grinned wide, leaning back on her elbows. “I know, but tell me I’m wrong.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to push away the ridiculous idea. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Maddie’s wild daydreams weren’t entirely out of reach.

Just as Maddie was about to launch into another wild daydream about me and Daniel conquering the world, there was a sharp knock on my door.

“Y/N? Maddie? What are y’all doin’ in there?” my mom’s voice called out from the hallway.

My eyes widened in horror. “Oh, crap,” I whispered, looking down at my crumpled shirt and yesterday’s jeans. No way could Mom see me like this. Not after last night.

Maddie, ever the quick thinker, jumped up, eyes wide. “You gotta change! Quick, or she’ll know!”

I scrambled off the bed, frantically grabbing the first pair of sweatpants I could find and yanking off my wrinkled jeans. “Uh, we’re just—hold on, Mom! Give us a sec!” I yelled back, pulling on the sweats and trying to find a shirt that didn’t scream ‘walk of shame.’

Mom knocked again, louder this time, sounding more impatient. “What’s takin’ so long? Y’all up to no good in there?”

Maddie shot me a panicked look, then, in true Maddie fashion, she came up with the most absurd lie possible. “Mom, we’re—uh—just checking if Y/N has a wart down there!”

My head snapped up so fast I nearly fell over. “WHAT?”

Maddie’s eyes were wide with mischief as she mouthed, Just go with it!

Mom was silent for a second, and then I heard a heavy sigh. “A wart? Y’all expect me to believe that?”

Maddie waved her arms around frantically, trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You know, like, one of those really weird ones! We didn’t wanna make a fuss about it, so we’re handling it ourselves.”

I threw on a hoodie, pulling it over my head as fast as I could, all while glaring at Maddie. “Are you kidding me?” I whispered through gritted teeth, but she just gave me a thumbs-up.

Mom’s patience was clearly wearing thin. “Well, can’t this wait until later? I need y’all downstairs now.”

Maddie’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape. “Uh, well, it’s kind of urgent, Mom! You don’t just leave a wart alone, right? It could get... worse! Way worse!”

I buried my face in my hands, trying not to burst out laughing at how ridiculous this had become. But Maddie wasn’t letting up, and my mom, bless her, was clearly not buying it.

“Alright, enough. I don’t care if there’s a whole forest of warts down there! Get your butts downstairs in two minutes or I’m coming in!” Mom’s voice was firm now, and I could hear her foot tapping impatiently outside the door.

Maddie shot me a guilty look as I finally finished pulling myself together. “Okay, okay, we’re coming!” I yelled back, exasperated but unable to stop giggling at how absurd this situation had become.

As soon as we heard Mom walk away from the door, I turned to Maddie, shaking my head. “A wart? Really? That’s your best lie?”

Maddie grinned, completely unbothered. “Hey, I had to think fast! Besides, you know Mom was gonna barge in here if we didn’t come up with something good.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear, if I ever have to explain to her that I don’t have warts, you’re taking the blame.”

“Deal,” Maddie said with a grin, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the door. “Now let’s go before she drags us down there herself.”

Maddie and I hurried downstairs, trying our best to look normal — like we hadn’t just staged a ridiculous wart-related lie to keep Mom from barging into my room. As soon as we hit the bottom step, Mom was standing there with her arms crossed, eyeing us with that mom look that said she knew something was up but was choosing to let it slide for now.

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Y’all got those warts handled? Need me to call a doctor or somethin’?”

I groaned, rolling my eyes as Maddie snickered beside me. “We’re fine, Mom,” I muttered, trying not to blush all over again. “No doctor necessary.”

Mom chuckled and shook her head. “Alright, then. I need you two to run to the mart for me.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a grocery list, handing it over. “Just a few things I need for tonight. Don’t dilly-dally.”

I took the list and scanned it, my mind still racing from the chaos of the morning. Eggs, milk, sugar—normal stuff. But then I spotted cilantro circled three times with a little note that said, “Don’t forget this time!!!”

I sighed, folding the list up and sticking it in my pocket. “Got it, Mom. Anything else? Want us to pick up some wart cream while we’re at it?” I teased, shooting Maddie a glance.

Maddie snorted, and Mom swatted me lightly on the arm. “Just get what’s on the list, smart mouth.”

We headed out the door and into the driveway, where Maddie tossed me the keys to my truck. “Your turn to drive,” she said, hopping into the passenger seat with a grin. “I’m still recovering from your fashion disaster this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” she said, smirking as I started the engine. The truck roared to life, and we pulled out of the driveway, heading toward the mart.

As we cruised down the road, the Texas sun beating down on us, I finally started to relax. The insanity of the morning was starting to fade, and it felt good to just drive, even if it was for groceries.

“Cilantro, huh?” Maddie said, glancing at the list as we pulled into the parking lot of the mart. “You better not forget that, or Mom’s gonna throw a fit.”

I parked the truck and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Yeah, I know. We’re on a cilantro mission now.”

We hopped out of the truck, laughing about the morning's chaos as we headed inside. At least now, it was just me, Maddie, and a simple grocery list to tackle.

Maddie and I wandered through the grocery store aisles, chatting about nothing in particular as we grabbed the items on Mom’s list. Everything was going smoothly until I remembered the cilantro.

“Maddie, I can’t forget the cilantro. Mom will kill me if I come back without it.” I scanned the store like I was hunting for buried treasure, and then—out of the corner of my eye—I spotted it. The last bunch of cilantro.

“There!” I practically shouted, pointing across the produce section. Without thinking, I made a mad dash for it, leaving Maddie behind as I zeroed in on my target. Nothing was going to stop me from getting this cilantro—not after what happened last time.

But just as I reached for it, my hand collided with someone else’s.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” a familiar voice said, as our hands both grabbed for the same bunch. “In a rush, are we?”

I looked up and found myself staring directly into Daniel’s mischievous eyes. My heart skipped a beat—of all people.

“You?” I blurted, both annoyed and surprised.

Daniel grinned, raising an eyebrow as his hand still held onto the cilantro. “What, you didn’t think you’d see me again?”

I blinked, trying to recover from the sudden collision, both physically and mentally. “I—uh—no, I just didn’t expect to be fighting you over a bunch of cilantro,” I said, still clutching the herb in one hand as he held the other end.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, if you’d been a little slower, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him. “Slower? I was practically flying over here. I saw it first.”

“Oh, really?” He tilted his head, that playful smirk of his back in full force. “I’m pretty sure I had my hand on it before you did.”

“Dream on, Ricciardo,” I shot back, trying to yank the cilantro from his grip. “It’s mine.”

He tightened his hold, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Tell you what—we’ll share it.”

“Share?” I raised an eyebrow. “What, you want to split a bunch of cilantro? What are we, in preschool?”

Daniel laughed, pulling it toward him slightly. “I mean, it’s either that or you admit defeat.”

“Admit defeat?” I shot him a glare. “I don’t lose at grocery shopping.”

“Is that so?” His grin widened as he leaned in closer, his face just a little too close for comfort. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re losing.”

My cheeks flushed, and I yanked the cilantro again, this time breaking the bunch in half. “There. Now we’re both losers.”

He burst out laughing, holding up his half of the cilantro. “Fair enough. You really don’t like losing, do you?”

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the fact that I was blushing. “Not when I’m up against people who think they can out-shop me.”

Daniel leaned against the cart, still grinning like he was having the time of his life. “Alright, you win this round, but I’m telling you—next time, I’m taking the whole bunch.”

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “Good luck with that.”

Just then, Maddie appeared behind me, her eyes going wide when she realized who I was standing next to. “Uh, Y/N? What’s going on here?”

I turned to Maddie, holding up my half of the cilantro. “Just winning a fight, that’s all.”

Daniel winked at Maddie before looking back at me. “More like a draw, if we’re being honest.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ricciardo.”

Maddie raised her eyebrows, her grin spreading. “Oh, this is definitely going in my scrapbook.”

Daniel chuckled, still holding his half of the cilantro like it was a prize. Just as I was about to turn away, he slipped something into my hand, so smooth I almost didn’t realize he’d done it.

I blinked, glancing down at the small folded piece of paper. “What’s this?” I asked, unfolding it carefully, my curiosity piqued.

Before I could even figure it out, Maddie was already craning her neck to see. Her eyes widened in excitement the second she caught a glimpse. “Oh my god, Y/N, do you even know what these are?!”

I looked at her, completely confused. “What do you mean?”

She pointed excitedly at the paper in my hands. “Those are paddock passes! For the Austin GP! You’ve got three-day passes to the entire race weekend! Do you even understand how hard these are to get?”

I stared down at the passes, my jaw practically hitting the floor. “Wait, what?”

Daniel smirked, casually leaning against his cart, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Yeah, figured you might want to see what all this F1 fuss is about, and I happened to have an extra pass. So, you know, if you’re not too busy fighting over cilantro.”

I looked up at him, completely floored. “You... got me paddock passes? For three days?”

He shrugged, looking way too casual about the whole thing. “What can I say? I’m glad I grabbed an extra one just in case.” His eyes flickered with that familiar playful glint. “And now, I’m even gladder.”

Maddie, still buzzing with excitement, suddenly stepped forward, grinning ear to ear. “Oh, where are my manners?” She extended her hand. “I’m Maddie, by the way. You know, the better sister.”

Daniel burst into laughter, shaking her hand. “Well, if you’re anything like your sister, I think I’m in for trouble.”

Maddie winked at him. “Trouble’s our middle name. But really, she’s the one you’ve gotta watch out for.”

I shot Maddie a glare, trying to keep my cool even though my heart was still racing. “Maddie, stop.”

Daniel grinned, turning his attention back to me. “I dunno, I kind of like trouble. Keeps things interesting.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. “You just like making everything a competition.”

He tilted his head, that infuriatingly charming smirk still on his face. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing how far I can push you.”

Maddie laughed, nudging me with her elbow. “Oh, he’s good, Y/N. Better watch out, or you’re gonna find yourself in the middle of a Grand Prix.”

Daniel grinned, leaning in just a little. “Well, with those passes, you might just end up front and center.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at how ridiculous this had all become. “You seriously just carry extra paddock passes around?”

“Only when I think they might come in handy,” he said, eyes glinting. “And I had a feeling you’d appreciate them more than anyone else here.”

I raised an eyebrow, still not entirely sure how this was my life. “You’re something else, you know that?”

He smiled, holding up his half of the cilantro. “Takes one to know one.”

I stared at the paddock passes in my hand, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Daniel Ricciardo—actual Formula 1 driver—had just handed me access to the most exclusive part of the Austin GP like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, Maddie looked like she was about to combust from excitement.

“I mean, front and center at a Grand Prix?” Maddie piped up, clearly having the time of her life with this. “Y/N, do you even understand how cool that is? You’re basically about to be part of the elite crowd. And you didn’t even know who he was two days ago.”

I shot her a look, trying not to blush as I turned back to Daniel. “I feel like I should be saying thanks, but... are you sure? This feels a little...”

“Too good to be true?” Daniel finished with a smirk, crossing his arms. “I get that a lot. But trust me, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. Plus, I didn’t want to go through the weekend wondering if you’d ever stop fighting over cilantro.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re really gonna hang onto that, aren’t you?”

“Only as long as it keeps you on your toes.” He grinned, his gaze holding mine a second longer than necessary. “Besides, now you’ve got no excuse not to come.”

Maddie, never one to miss an opportunity, jumped in with a grin. “Oh, she’ll be there. I’ll make sure of it. You’re looking at the world’s most stubborn person right here, but once she commits, she’s all in.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Is that so?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at my lips. “I wouldn’t listen to her. She’s just trying to recruit me into her fantasy F1 life.”

Maddie snorted. “Uh, you slept with Daniel Ricciardo, and now you’ve got paddock passes. I think that fantasy is turning into reality, sis.”

I groaned, rubbing my face in embarrassment. “Maddie, please.”

Daniel chuckled, glancing between the two of us. “You two are something else. This is probably the most fun I’ve had at a grocery store in... ever.”

I crossed my arms, half smiling despite myself. “Well, I guess we know who to thank for that. You’re really making a habit of surprising me, aren’t you?”

He leaned in just slightly, his grin widening. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Just wait ‘til you see what surprises I’ve got lined up for the weekend.”

Maddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Ooh, mysterious. I like it.”

I shot her a look but couldn’t help laughing. “Alright, fine. You win. I’ll come to the race.”

Daniel winked, clearly satisfied. “Knew you would. See you in the paddock, then.” He tipped his imaginary hat and turned to walk away, but not before flashing one last grin. “Don’t forget to bring your competitive spirit. You’re gonna need it.”

I watched him go, my heart still racing as Maddie practically squealed beside me. “Oh my god, Y/N! This is insane!”

I shook my head, laughing. “Yeah, it is. I can’t believe I’m actually going to an F1 race.”

Maddie grinned, nudging me again. “Not just any race. You’re going with Daniel freaking Ricciardo. Girl, this is like something out of a movie.”

I rolled my eyes, but a small part of me couldn’t deny how surreal—and thrilling—it all felt.

After successfully scouring the back of the store and miraculously finding one last bunch of cilantro hidden behind some parsley, Maddie and I made our way to the checkout. I could barely keep my head straight, still reeling from my unexpected run-in with Daniel, while Maddie was practically bouncing with excitement, shooting me side-glances the entire time we loaded up the cart.

Once we were through the checkout and back in the truck, Maddie wasted no time. As soon as I turned the ignition, she turned toward me, eyes wide with anticipation. "Okay, enough stalling. You have to give me details about the one-night stand. I mean, come on. It's Daniel Ricciardo! Spill it!"

I groaned, gripping the steering wheel and backing out of the parking spot. “Maddie, please.”

She crossed her arms, giving me her best "I’m-not-letting-this-go" look. “Oh, no, no. You’re not getting out of this one. I need the full rundown. Like, what happened? How did it happen? How is he? Is he a good—”

“Maddie!” I cut her off, feeling the heat rise to my face. “I am not telling you that.”

She smirked, not even remotely phased by my protests. “Oh, come on. Don’t act like you weren’t just as shocked to wake up next to him. I mean, how does someone like you,” she gestured to me dramatically, “end up in bed with someone like him?”

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. “Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are. It wasn’t even planned! We were both tipsy, flirting at the bar... and, well, you know how those things go.”

Maddie practically squealed. “So, was it... like, really good?”

I groaned again, my face probably a bright shade of red by now. “Maddie, I’m not talking about that. Just know that... it was fine, okay? We were both drunk, and it happened. End of story.”

She pouted but kept pushing. “Ugh, fine. But was he sweet? Was he funny in the morning? Or did he just roll over and pretend like nothing happened?”

I snorted, shaking my head as I turned onto the road. “No, actually, he was... really chill about it. We joked around a bit, and he didn’t make it awkward. I mean, we even fought over cilantro in the grocery store, and he’s still as annoyingly charming as ever.”

Maddie let out a dreamy sigh. “Of course, he’s charming. Ugh, I bet that smile of his could get you to do anything. No wonder you ended up in his hotel room.”

I shot her a look. “Can you not make me sound like a complete pushover?”

She giggled, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying! You gotta admit, he’s got some serious game.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, he’s definitely got something. But honestly, I don’t even know what to make of it all. One minute, I’m waking up in his bed, and the next, I’ve got paddock passes for a whole race weekend.”

Maddie leaned back in her seat, eyes wide with curiosity. “Okay, okay, but I have to ask the important question.” She paused for dramatic effect, smirking like she was about to drop the most scandalous question of all time.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What now?”

She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “Is it... big?”

I nearly choked on my own laughter, my face instantly heating up. “Maddie!” I exclaimed, giving her a light shove. “Oh my god, you can’t just ask that!”

She burst out laughing, completely unfazed. “Come on! You hooked up with a famous race car driver! You know I had to ask!”

I covered my face, shaking my head. “This is not happening right now.”

Maddie nudged me again, still giggling. “I’m just sayin’, you can’t drop all these details about Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo and expect me to not be curious! It’s, like, basic sister requirements.”

I sighed, laughing despite the embarrassment. “I’m not telling you that. Besides, some things are meant to be kept private!”

She threw her hands up in surrender, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Fine, fine. But I’m just gonna assume the answer’s yes based on how flustered you are right now.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the grocery bags. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

She beamed at me, completely proud of herself. ��It’s part of my charm. Now let’s go inside before Mom gets suspicious.”

We stepped out of the truck, and as we made our way toward the house, Maddie shot me one last teasing glance. “I still can’t believe this. You’re living the dream, sis. Now we just have to get you through the race without tripping over yourself.”

I laughed, shaking my head as we walked inside. “Easier said than done, trust me.”

Maddie winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to keep you grounded. And, you know, ask more questions about... size later.”

I groaned. “Maddie, I swear, if you bring that up again—”

She cut me off with a giggle. “Relax, I’ll save it for after the race. Maybe Daniel will answer it for me.”

I gave her a mock-serious glare as we stepped into the kitchen. “If you ask him anything remotely like that, I’ll personally disown you as my sister.”

Maddie just grinned, completely unfazed by my threat. “Oh, come on! You know you’re curious too. I bet Daniel’s the type to joke right back—he seems like he’s got that smooth banter down.”

I rolled my eyes, setting the grocery bags down on the counter. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not find out in front of you.”

She grabbed a bunch of cilantro, holding it up like it was a victory flag. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave at the race... but no promises if the opportunity presents itself.”

I groaned again, shaking my head. “You will kill me one day, you know?”

Maddie smirked as she placed the cilantro in the fridge, turning to me with a wink. “Hey, if you’re gonna be dating an F1 driver, you better get used to me asking all the embarrassing questions. It’s a sister’s job to keep things interesting.”

I felt my face flush at the mention of “dating” Daniel, quickly brushing it off. “Who said anything about dating? This was just a one-time thing.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “Uh-huh, sure. You just happened to have a ‘one-time thing’ with Daniel Ricciardo, and now you’ve got three-day paddock passes? Girl, please.”

I crossed my arms, trying to sound firm. “We’re not dating.”

She gave me a knowing smile. “Maybe not yet, but trust me, once you’re up close and personal at that race, things might change. I mean, the man gave you paddock passes, Y/N. He’s clearly not done with you.”

I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn’t deny the flutter in my chest at her words. “Whatever, Maddie. Let’s just focus on surviving this weekend without you embarrassing me in front of him.”

Maddie grinned, stepping closer and nudging me with her elbow. “I make no promises. But I will say this—you better have fun. It’s not every day you get to hang out with a superstar. Just... remember to breathe when you see him again.”

I laughed, despite the butterflies in my stomach. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me finish putting these groceries away before Mom comes in and asks what’s taking so long.”

Maddie threw me a playful wink as she grabbed the rest of the groceries. “You got it. But I’m definitely asking for more details after the race.”

I groaned, but there was no hiding my smile. As much as Maddie drove me crazy, I couldn’t deny that having her along for this wild ride was exactly what I needed.

Maddie and I stepped into the kitchen, laughing and joking about who could embarrass me more at the race when we both suddenly stopped dead in our tracks.

Sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea like it was the most casual thing in the world, were Carrie and her mother, Savannah.

I froze, my heart sinking to my stomach. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

My mom glanced up, clearly trying to keep the peace with a polite smile, but there was no missing the tension in the air. “Oh, hey girls,” she said, in a tone that was way too casual for the situation. “We’re just having a little afternoon tea.”

Savannah gave us a small wave, her southern charm still as present as ever. “Hi, Y/N. Maddie. It’s been a while.”

Carrie glanced up at me, and for a second, I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes. I could tell she was remembering the hotel elevator, just like I was. The awkward tension between us stretched out as thin as it could go.

In my head, a thousand thoughts ran wild. Why are they here? I knew the answer, though. My mom and Savannah had been cordial for years, mostly because they had to be. Both of them were rodeo managers for the same rodeo company, which meant they had to stay civil for the sake of work. The whole town knew their friendship was... well, strained at best. But here they were, playing nice over afternoon tea like it was some kind of forced social obligation.

Maddie, always the one to break awkward silences, cleared her throat. “Uh... hey, Mrs. Summers. Carrie.”

Carrie’s mom, Savannah, smiled politely, her perfect rodeo-queen hair barely moving as she lifted her teacup. “It’s lovely to see you two. Your mother and I were just catching up on the rodeo business.”

Of course you were, I thought bitterly. The rodeo world was so small, and no matter how much I wanted to avoid it—or Carrie—I couldn’t escape it.

My mom, sensing the tension, glanced between us. “Savannah and I were talking about the upcoming event. Looks like it’s going to be a busy season.”

Maddie shifted uncomfortably beside me. “Yeah, busy. Fun.” Her usual energy was suddenly subdued, which I knew was her way of trying to keep things from getting too awkward. Not that it was working.

Carrie, ever the queen of awkward stares, finally spoke, her tone as polite as ever. “It’s... good to see you, Y/N.” She hesitated, glancing at her mother before continuing. “How have you been?”

I forced a smile, trying not to let the awkwardness show on my face. “Great. Just, you know, busy.” Really busy fighting you in elevators and trying to forget you even exist.

Carrie nodded, sipping her tea, and the silence between us stretched even further. I could feel the weight of Savannah’s eyes on me, like she was silently assessing everything—our strained friendship, my disheveled appearance from running errands, everything.

Maddie, never one to let tension linger, piped up again. “Well, we just got back from the mart. You know, had to get that cilantro Mom keeps losing her mind over.”

Savannah smiled tightly. “Ah, yes. Cilantro can be tricky.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of the moment, but I managed to hold it in, keeping the strained smile on my face. I just wanted this impromptu tea party from hell to be over with.

The silence in the kitchen stretched on, thick and awkward, like we were all waiting for something to break it but hoping it wouldn’t be us. I could feel Maddie’s discomfort beside me, her usual spark dimmed in the presence of Carrie and her mom. My mind raced with a mix of irritation and embarrassment—of all the days for them to be here, this had to be it.

Carrie set her teacup down gently, the soft clink of porcelain against porcelain filling the room like a final punctuation to the unbearable silence. She gave me a tight-lipped smile, that same fake pleasantness I’d grown used to over the years. “Well, it sounds like you’ve been keeping busy.”

Busy avoiding you, I thought, but instead I just nodded. “Yeah, something like that.” I forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

Savannah, ever the poised and perfect woman she was, glanced at my mom and then back at us, her hands wrapped neatly around her teacup. “It’s important to stay productive. Especially with everything going on in the rodeo season. You girls must be a big help around here.”

I bit back the urge to laugh. My mom might be cordial with Savannah for the sake of their professional lives as rodeo managers, but the subtext was loud and clear. They barely tolerated each other, both knowing that competition was part of their work, and now that tension had trickled down to Carrie and me—and Maddie by default.

Maddie, bless her, tried to keep things light. “Oh, we’re great at helping out... with, uh, grocery shopping.” She flashed a smile, holding up the cilantro like it was some grand prize. “Mom’s got us on strict cilantro duty these days.”

Mom shot Maddie a look, clearly not in the mood for her humor right now. “Thank you, Maddie.”

Savannah raised an eyebrow at Maddie’s comment, but kept her voice smooth. “Cilantro can make or break a meal, I suppose.”

Carrie glanced at me again, her eyes flicking up and down, probably still processing our awkward encounter in the hotel elevator. “You know,” she said, her voice too casual, “I think I saw you at the Hilton the other day, Y/N. Were you there for something special?”

My stomach dropped. Of course she’d bring it up.

“Yeah, I... had some errands downtown,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. No way was I going to let her know about Daniel, not with her mother sitting right there.

Maddie, though, being Maddie, had no such reservations about subtlety. “Oh, you know, just casually bumping into Formula 1 drivers. No big deal.”

Carrie’s eyes widened slightly, and I saw her mom’s eyebrows lift in surprise.

“Formula 1 drivers?” Savannah asked, her tone suddenly more interested than it had been for the entire tea party.

I shot Maddie a seriously? look, but she just grinned like she’d been waiting to drop this bomb the entire time. “Yeah, we ran into Daniel Ricciardo. Real nice guy.”

Carrie’s jaw tightened just slightly, and I could tell she was piecing it all together. She probably knew exactly what had happened in that elevator. “Wow, Daniel Ricciardo,” she said, her voice cool. “That’s... interesting.”

Savannah, ever the picture of elegance, nodded approvingly. “Well, that’s quite a meeting. Formula 1 is certainly prestigious. You must have made quite the impression.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. Yeah, I made an impression, alright. But instead, I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It was... unexpected.”

Carrie’s eyes flickered with something—maybe curiosity, maybe envy—but her lips pressed together in a tight line. “Unexpected, huh?” she said, her voice a little too casual. “I’m sure it was.”

I could tell she wasn’t buying my attempt to downplay the situation. She knew. She’d probably already started piecing together the story from the elevator and was likely imagining a whole different version of events—one where she could twist it into something more dramatic.

Savannah, on the other hand, smiled that perfectly polished smile she always had, but I could see a glint of interest in her eyes. “Well, you’re certainly moving in impressive circles these days, Y/N. Formula 1 drivers... that’s a step up from the usual rodeo crowd, don’t you think?”

I bit back a smirk. “I guess you could say that.”

Carrie’s jaw tightened a little more, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. She had that look on her face—the one that said she was already planning how to bring this up the next time she was with her friends. She’d never admit it, but the idea of me bumping into someone like Daniel Ricciardo clearly irked her.

She straightened up in her seat, brushing a lock of perfectly styled hair behind her ear. “Well, it must’ve been nice to meet someone so... prestigious,” she said, her tone dripping with false politeness. “I’m sure it was a brief encounter.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool. “Yeah, brief.” I decided it was better not to mention the three-day paddock passes in my back pocket. The less ammunition Carrie had, the better.

Savannah, still smiling, added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you saw him again at some point. Those kinds of connections have a way of resurfacing.”

I nodded, doing my best to seem nonchalant, but I couldn’t help glancing at Carrie, who was staring at me with just a little too much interest.

Carrie leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit. “So, what did you two talk about? I mean, you don’t exactly strike me as the F1 type.”

I could feel Maddie practically vibrating with excitement beside me, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable Carrie was. “Oh, we talked about racing. Rodeo. Life,” I said, keeping my response vague. I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing more.

Carrie raised her eyebrow, sensing I wasn’t going to give her more details, but she couldn’t resist pushing a little further. “Rodeo, huh? That’s cute. I bet he found all of that... fascinating.”

Before I could respond, Maddie jumped in, her voice sweet but sharp. “Actually, he seemed really interested. You know, not everyone can handle a fast-paced life like Y/N’s. Some people are more into... exciting things.”

I shot Maddie a look, barely suppressing my grin as she winked at me.

Carrie’s smile faltered for just a second before she regained her composure. “Well, good for you, Y/N,” she said, her tone cold enough to send a chill through the room. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in with the race car crowd.”

Carrie’s words hung in the air like a challenge, her eyes flicking over me, searching for any sign of discomfort. But I wasn’t about to let her get the upper hand—not today.

I smiled, my voice steady. “I’m sure I will. After all, fast-paced lives aren’t for everyone.” I kept my tone light, but there was no missing the underlying message.

Carrie’s smile tightened, her fingers twitching slightly as she adjusted the strap of her designer bag. “Well, best of luck keeping up. Those kinds of people tend to leave others in the dust if they can’t handle the speed.”

Maddie, ever the bold one, didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, Y/N can handle anything. Don’t you worry about that.”

Carrie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she forced another smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

I could practically hear Maddie holding back a giggle beside me. Carrie’s frustration was almost palpable, and I knew we were getting to her. She was always one to hold her cards close, but right now, the fact that I’d spent time with someone like Daniel Ricciardo—a man from a world far beyond Carrie’s reach—had clearly rattled her.

Savannah, ever the picture of grace, stepped in before things could escalate any further. “Alright, girls. We really must be going.” She placed a hand on Carrie’s shoulder, guiding her toward the door, but not before giving me one last glance. “You’ll have to tell us more about your Formula 1 adventures next time, Y/N.”

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “We’ll see how the weekend goes.”

Carrie shot me one last look as they turned to leave, her voice almost too casual. “Enjoy the race. Let’s hope it’s as exciting as you’re expecting.”

I held her gaze, giving her the smallest of smirks. “Oh, I’m sure it will be.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Maddie let out the loudest laugh, finally letting go of all the tension that had been bubbling up during that excruciatingly polite exchange.

“Did you see her face?” Maddie said, practically bouncing with glee. “She’s absolutely livid. I can’t believe you kept your cool like that!”

I exhaled, leaning against the counter. “Barely. She almost had me when she started pushing about Daniel.”

Maddie waved her hand dismissively. “Nah, you handled that like a champ. I mean, did you see how she tried to act all nonchalant? She’s probably seething inside.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Well, let’s hope she stews on it for a while. Maybe she’ll back off.”

Maddie laughed, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Or maybe she’ll just get more competitive. Either way, you’re the one with the paddock passes and a date with Daniel Ricciardo.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not a date.”

She gave me a mischievous look. “We’ll see about that.”

As Maddie and I were still laughing about the showdown with Carrie, my mom suddenly cleared her throat from the kitchen doorway. “Oh,” she said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, “so that’s where you were. I was wondering why you came back home looking like you’d been wrestling a tornado. Turns out you were just... banging some famous Formula 1 driver, huh?”

I froze, mid-laugh, and Maddie immediately burst into giggles, almost choking on her soda.

“MOM!” I spluttered, my face burning red. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Oh, honey,” my mom interrupted, waving a hand. “I don’t need the details. I’m just surprised you didn’t even bother to sneak in quietly after all that ‘looking for warts business’” She put heavy air quotes around her later statement, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the embarrassment crawl up my neck. “It wasn’t... like that.”

Maddie, still giggling, jumped in. “Oh, it was exactly like that. Just wait until you hear about the cilantro.”

Mom raised an eyebrow, her smirk not fading. “Cilantro, huh? Sounds like that’s code for something else entirely.”

I groaned. “Mom! I am not having this conversation with you right now.”

She laughed, coming over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, sweetie. But next time, try to sneak in a little less obviously. And maybe let your poor mother know if you plan on... running into celebrities in the future.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Maddie quickly jumped in, still laughing. “Oh, don’t worry, Mom. If she ever brings Daniel Ricciardo home, you’ll be the first to know.”

My mom winked at me. “You better believe it. Just make sure to feed the poor boy—don’t want him leaving hungry after all that... grocery shopping.” She gave me a teasing smile, clearly enjoying every second of my discomfort.

I buried my face in my hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Maddie leaned over, patting me on the back with a grin. “Welcome to the family, sis. Nothing stays secret here.”

After the chaos with Carrie, my mom’s teasing, and Maddie’s relentless jokes about Daniel, I finally retreated to my room, grateful for some peace and quiet. I had a big task ahead of me, one that had been on my mind for weeks—finalizing my album. The release date was just around the corner, and there were still a few loose ends to tie up.

I sat at my desk, flipping through the notebook that held all my song lyrics. Most of the album was finished, a mix of country ballads, heartbreak anthems, and some upbeat tracks about the wild, unpredictable life of a cowgirl. But something was missing. As I strummed my guitar absentmindedly, my thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the last couple of days—the bar, the unexpected encounter with Daniel, the flirting, the way he made me feel more alive than I’d felt in a long time.

Without even thinking, I started jotting down lyrics. The melody came first, soft and steady, like a heartbeat. The words followed, spilling out onto the page as I replayed that night in my mind. The tequila, the banter, the way he leaned in close with that lazy smile, and how I’d felt—nervous, excited, like I was diving into something new and unexpected.

Before I knew it, I had a full song written about that night. The lyrics were a little cheeky, playful, and flirty, with just enough emotional undertones to make it feel real. It wasn’t like the other songs on my album, but somehow, it fit. It felt right. It felt like something I needed to include.

I sat back, looking at the lyrics on the page, and let out a breath. “Okay,” I whispered to myself, “this might actually work.”

But there was one hurdle left—convincing my manager.

I picked up my phone and called them. It didn’t take long for the line to click, and my manager’s voice came through, warm but business-like as always. “Y/N! We’re almost there. Everything’s looking good for the album release. What’s up?”

I took a deep breath. “Hey, I’ve been thinking... I wrote a new song today. It’s about something that just happened recently, and I feel like it needs to be on the album.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could hear them flipping through notes. “A new song? Y/N, we’re cutting it pretty close to the release date. Is it finished?”

“Yeah, it’s finished. I can send you a rough cut tonight,” I said, my heart pounding a little faster now. “I know it’s last minute, but this song... it’s important. It’s different from the other tracks, but it feels like the missing piece. I don’t want it on the physical CDs or anything—we can just add it to the online release.”

Another pause, and I held my breath, waiting.

Finally, my manager spoke, their tone thoughtful. “Send it over. I’ll take a listen. If it’s as good as you’re saying, we can make it work for the digital release. But no promises until I hear it.”

A wave of relief washed over me. “Thanks, I’ll send it over in an hour.”

I hung up the phone and got to work, recording a rough version of the song. It wasn’t polished, but the emotion was there, raw and real, just like that night with Daniel. When I listened back, I smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction settle over me. This song wasn’t planned, but it felt like it was meant to be there, like it had been waiting for the right moment to come out.

Once the recording was done, I sent it off to my manager and leaned back in my chair, guitar still resting in my lap. The day had started out so wild, but now, here I was, about to add a brand-new track to my album because of an unexpected encounter at a bar with a Formula 1 driver.

It was crazy, sure—but it was my kind of crazy. The kind that made life interesting, that made music worth creating.

As soon as I hit send on the rough cut of the song to my manager, my phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced down and, to my surprise, saw Daniel’s name lighting up my screen. My heart skipped a beat—I wasn’t expecting to hear from him so soon, if at all. I swiped the notification open, and his message popped up.

Daniel: 👀 So… did I win the cilantro war or what?

I snorted, shaking my head. Of course he’d bring that up.

Me: you wish... i think we agreed it was a draw, remember?

A few moments passed, and another message popped up.

Daniel: Sure, sure. I’ll let you keep telling yourself that. But really, I let you have it. Gentleman and all. 😏

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile as I typed back.

Me: oh, you let me win, huh? that’s the story you’re going with??!

Daniel: Obviously. Wouldn’t want to start a feud over herbs. You Texans can be dangerous when you don’t get your cilantro.

I chuckled to myself, feeling the tension from earlier slip away as we fell into easy banter.

Me: you’re totally right. we don’t mess around with cilantro here. it’s practically sacred!! 😭

Daniel: I’m starting to see that. 😅 So, how’s your day been, besides our grocery aisle showdown?

I hesitated for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Should I tell him about the song? About Carrie and the whole awkward tea party? I decided to keep it light for now.

Me: oh, you know... just the usual—running errands, finalizing some stuff for my album release. nothing too exciting, what about you?

His response came quickly.

Daniel: Not as exciting as your day, I’m sure. Just some press stuff and getting ready for the race. Though I guess that means I’m busy dodging questions about why I’m spending so much time in the grocery store lately. 😏

I laughed, imagining him charming his way through whatever interviews he had lined up, somehow making even his grocery shopping sound interesting.

Me: yeah, i’m sure the twitter is DYING to know all about your cilantro preferences.

Daniel: Oh, absolutely. “Ricciardo spotted in aisle five—what does this mean for the upcoming race?” 😆

Me: groundbreaking stuff😣😣. we’re really pushing the boundaries here.

His next text came through quickly, and I could almost hear the teasing in his voice.

Daniel: Speaking of groundbreaking... any chance this album’s got a song about a certain Aussie driver in it? 😏

I froze for a second, staring at his message. He had no idea how close he was to the truth.

Me: actually… funny you mention that. i may or may not have written something inspired by a recent bar encounter. 😉

There was a brief pause before his reply, and I imagined him raising an eyebrow on the other end.

Daniel: Oh? Inspired by, huh? Now you’ve got my attention. Do I get to hear this masterpiece before the rest of the world does?

I grinned, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but something told me he’d find it amusing.

Me: maybe... but only if you promise not to make fun of me. i just wrote it today, so it’s still fresh. it's my newborn baby 💗💗💗

Daniel: Promise. I’m intrigued now. What’s it called?

I paused, biting my lip before typing.

Me: i haven’t decided on a title yet, but let’s just say it has a lot to do with flirting, tequila, and someone wearing a cowboy hat...😏

His response came quickly, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Daniel: Well, that narrows it down. Sounds like a banger already. 😎 When do I get to hear it?

I hesitated, unsure if I was really ready to let him listen to something so personal so soon. But then again, the whole point of the song was how unexpected and spontaneous things had been with him.

Me: soon...maybe if you behave yourself at the race. 😏

Daniel: Behave? Me? I’ll do my best, but no promises. 😉

I rolled my eyes, grinning at the screen. He had a way of keeping things light, but there was still something underneath all the teasing that felt... real.

Me: alright alright cowboy, well, you’ll have to wait just like everyone else then. patience is a virtue, right?!

Daniel: Patience is overrated, but for you, I guess I can try. 😎

I laughed, shaking my head. This was getting too fun.

Me: good. now go prepare for your race before you get too distracted.

Daniel: Oh, trust me, I’m already distracted. You’re making it hard to focus on track times, you know that?

I felt a blush creep up my neck at his words, though I tried to brush it off with my usual sarcasm.

Me: well, o wouldn’t want to be responsible for messing up your race. just remember to keep it on track. 😏

His response came with a playful challenge.

Daniel: Challenge accepted. Just don’t be surprised when I win—and not just on the track. 😉

I let out a laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

Me: we’ll see about that, Ricciardo.

Daniel: Count on it.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: comment to be added to the taglist! i'll probably update in 1-2 weeks after i get a few more chapters out in my op81 lay all your love on me fic...stay tuned xx <3

[poisonlove]

Apocalypse | Jenna Ortega

Author: Yesterday, I watched World War Z… that movie inspired me.

"There it is, you can do it," I whisper to myself, tightly gripping the iron baseball bat in my hands. The awareness of the darkness outside the abandoned house begins to set in. I can no longer ignore the need to face the imminent danger: zombies.

It feels surreal to think that I have to confront creatures that once existed only in video games and movies. Who would have ever imagined that reality would take such an unexpected turn? The pistol in my pocket, the pump-action shotgun behind my back, and the kitchen knife taped to my leg become my improvised allies in this fight for survival. I step out of the house, ready to face what once seemed impossible but is now the harsh reality.

I had to go and find something to eat.

The door opens slowly under my hand, the iron bat raised menacingly as I carefully survey the surroundings. My eyes move from left to right, inspecting every corner, from top to bottom, searching for any sign of imminent threat. The silence is interrupted by guttural groans of an approaching zombie.

Freezing in place, my heart pounds as the creature gets closer. Without making a sound, I take refuge behind a wrecked car, holding my breath. I watch as the zombie—a woman of perhaps thirty—limps slowly down the street. Her eyes are white, the sign of a bite still visible on her neck. The movements are uncoordinated, and the teeth clatter together, producing a horrible sound.

The female zombie starts banging against the wall. Zombies that have nothing left to bite go into a state of absolute rest. Crawling to avoid stepping on debris, I cautiously circle the car. A horrible noise emanates from the zombie's mouth, her head turning to the left for no apparent reason.

I stay still.

The zombie turns her head the other way. I check my agitation and quickly cross the street, sighing in relief at having overcome the obstacle. The tension persists, but my determination to survive in this chaotic world strengthens.

I pick up the pace, eyes still vigilant on the surroundings, and sneak into the abandoned grocery store. Through the empty shelves, I hope to find at least some preserved food that survived the chaos of the past few days.

Footsteps make me slow down, and quickly, I hide behind the liquor aisle, clutching the bat tightly. I watch carefully as I turn the corner and see no one.

Closing my eyes, I hear fast steps approaching from behind. "Damn," I whisper before turning and raising the bat toward the noise. Before me stands another armed girl. The tension eases slightly, but I remain vigilant, aware that in this new world, every encounter can be risky.

"What the hell," I say with surprise.

The girl lowers the scarf from her face. Two brown eyes stare at me with confusion. The gun continues to point at me.

"Are you a zombie?" she asks seriously, the gun barrel shaking briefly along my body.

"What? No!" I say incredulously, lowering the weapon. "Do I look like zombies talk?" I say obviously.

"You never know," she exclaims, raising an eyebrow with confusion. "Maybe you're infected," she says, smirking mockingly.

"I could say the same," I roll my eyes at her comment. "Can we avoid humans fighting each other?" I ask kindly, and the girl analyzes my words before slowly lowering the weapon.

"Do you also want to drink to forget this shit situation?" she asks, changing the subject. She turns to the shelf, looking for something to drink, shaking off the tension. She takes half-empty whiskey and shakes her backpack, opens it, and puts the drink inside.

"Actually, I would have used it in case of emergency... to disinfect some wounds," I say, grabbing bourbon.

The girl takes a sip of tequila and squints her eyes at the strong taste. "Everyone does as they please," she says, smiling broadly.

My eyes curiously observe the girl: deer-like eyes, full lips, and a radiant smile. A dimple on her cheek when she smiles.

"Do you only need alcohol?" she asks curiously.

"Food," I say simply, and the girl nods.

"Come, I'll take you to the canned food aisle," she says, smiling broadly.

My eyes catch the tag on her shirt: Jenna Ortega. Most likely, she was an employee of this supermarket before chaos erupted.

I walk cautiously behind the girl, ready to defend myself from any potential ambush. Zombies were horrible, but hungry and scared humans were just as dangerous.

"Here we are," she says kindly.

I watch the girl, now knowing her name is Jenna, thinking that maybe she's too kind for this world now falling apart.

"Take it," before walking towards the canned food aisle, I grab walkie-talkies from the box, tear off the packaging, and throw one to Jenna.

"For any eventuality," I say with a small smile on my lips.

I walk towards the shelf and kneel on the floor. I open the backpack and start putting various cans of canned meat, fruits, tomatoes, and any long-lasting food inside.

My walkie-talkie makes a sound.

Confused, I press the button to hear what Jenna had to say. "What's your name? Over and out," I smile in surprise.

"Y/n," I reply.

"Jenna," she chuckles softly. "If you come to aisle 5, corridor 2, there's water. Over and out," she whispers, and I cautiously get up from the floor.

I walk towards her indication and put 3 water bottles inside and two more in the respective backpack pockets.

I reach Jenna, who was waiting leaning against a wall. My head turns towards the supermarket checkout, and I widen my eyes seeing two zombies: One of them has blood on the face, while the other emits guttural sounds from the throat.

Jenna is about to open her mouth, but I quickly walk towards her and put my hand on her mouth. She looks at me with confusion, her breath hitting my hand. Small freckles surround her face; the girl is relatively attractive.

With my head, I indicate where to look, and Jenna slowly obeys. I remove my hand from her face, and she raises her hand with the gun.

"Too much noise," I whisper, and Jenna puts the gun in her pocket.

"Where do we get out?" I say with concern, noticing other zombies near the rear exit.

"Storage," Jenna whispers, pointing to a door behind the checkout.

We walk slowly and cautiously towards our goal, avoiding attracting the attention of the zombies near the entrance just two meters from the checkout.

We reach the storage door, but as soon as we open it, a horrible creaking attracts the attention of the zombies.

"Run!" I say anxiously, seeing how the two zombies chase us, horrible noises coming from their mouths. With a decisive blow, my bat strikes the skull of one zombie as I close the door behind us, trying to stem the flow of invaders. However, the noise has attracted other undead, and the situation becomes more critical.

"Let's go!" Jenna exclaims, taking my hand and dragging me behind her. "We're close to my hideout!" she whispers weakly.

I turn around, and a horde of ten zombies follows us ferociously, running disoriented with annoying noises coming from their wide-open mouths.

We continue to flee, Jenna leading with determination. I hit some zombies that emerge in the alleys, the bat slicing the air with fierceness. Jenna, with agility, climbs the fire escape, seeking temporary refuge from the ever-growing threat.

In the frenzy of the fight, I grab the knife and accurately strike another zombie straight in the eye, trying to clear our path. Meanwhile, Jenna (who was behind me as she kicked a zombie's jaw) quickly climbs the stairs, pulling it up behind her, preventing the zombies from following us.

The fight continues; I shoot some zombies, trying to contain the horde that becomes more numerous. "Be careful, Jenna!" I shout as the bat moves fiercely, the knife sinking into rotten flesh. Jenna, with a concentrated look, replies, "We're making our way, hang on!"

New undead join the chaos; their moans and screams fill the air. "These don't give up easily!" Jenna shouts behind a gunshot, the deafening sound in the tight hunt in the apocalypse.

We reach the top of the building; the situation becomes critical. "We have to jump!" Jenna yells, the instructions clear in the tension of the moment. "WHAT?" I reply, my bat still stained with zombie blood. Jenna guides the jump with skill, and in the adrenaline of the moment, I follow her indication.

The fall is controlled but full of adrenaline.

I quickly turn towards the horde of zombies behind us and sigh with relief as one by one, they fall from the building, crashing into the street.

"We're safe," Jenna says, smiling broadly. "Safe? How can you smile in this situation?" I say incredulously.

Jenna opens a window and briefly checks the inside before entering. I follow her, scrutinizing the surrounding environment with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. The tension in our journey through the zombie apocalypse seems to momentarily ease, but the weight of reality persists, anchored in our gazes and the visible traces of uncertain survival.

"Well, there's no one," Jenna says after inspecting every corner of the apartment, locking the entrance as a precaution.

"Well," I say, sighing tiredly. "Don't turn on too many lights," I suggest, and Jenna smiles.

Jenna sits on the couch, holding a bottle of whisky in her hands. We settle, and Jenna takes a sip. "Tell me, Y/n... what awaits you at home?" she encourages.

I begin to speak, sharing the weight of my experience during the apocalypse. "No one... I lost sight of my family," I confess, my gaze turning to the uncertain horizon. "I sincerely hope they are still alive."

Jenna listens attentively, her eyes reflecting empathy. Then, it's her turn to share. She recounts losing everything, friends who died in front of her eyes after a car accident during the apocalypse. Sadness permeates the room as our stories intertwine in a context of devastation and loss.

So here we are, two souls seeking a bit of comfort in this ruined world, sharing the burden of our stories in a dialogue of sadness and hope.

Jenna rests her head on my shoulder, taking another sip of whiskey. Her shoulders tremble as the brunette starts to sob.

I feel her palpable pain, like an echo of the tragedies we both have endured. Instinctively, I try to comfort her. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, attempting to convey a sense of closeness and understanding. "We're here together, Jenna," I whisper gently, hoping my words can offer some relief in the darkness surrounding us. "We'll find a solution," I add, trying to infuse hope. "I'm sure they'll rescue us," I say as I run a hand along her shoulder.

Jenna clears her throat and lifts her head to look at me intently, her breath infused with alcohol mingling with mine. The brunette leans in slowly. I shyly turn my face the other way, burying my head in the hollow of her neck.

I wrap my arms around her waist, trying to convey a sense of calm and mutual understanding. Jenna timidly reciprocates the hug.

"Now is not the time to kiss... you're drunk, and we just met today," I say, smiling slightly.

"I'm not drunk... I need to distract myself... that's all," she says simply, revealing a fragment of vulnerability beneath the surface of the apocalypse.

Jenna looks up and gazes at me attentively, her eyes moving from the bottom to the top of my face. Jenna straddles my legs, the brunette leaning hesitantly towards my face, wanting to avoid a potential rejection. I can understand what she wants... Jenna simply desires to forget for a moment the hell that is burning through the streets of our city. The brunette raises a hand and places it on my cheek, wiping away soot with her thumb.

"And besides... even in clubs, you meet someone that night... before having fun..." she whispers and smiles broadly. I roll my eyes at her comment and melt shyly when I feel Jenna's lips gently pressing against mine.

I place my hands on her hips and reciprocate the kiss.

Jenna breaks the kiss and pulls her shirt over her head, looking at me with eyes that are beginning to widen due to the heated atmosphere. "I can't believe you want to have sex right now," I chuckle as Jenna unbuttons my camouflage jeans, her lips making contact with my skin.

"Don't blame me," she says, smiling on my neck.

My hands roam over her body, the skin tingling with shivers. Jenna joins our lips again in a swift movement, and I sigh against hers.

I think I can let go I think to myself, smiling unconsciously during the kiss.

(...)

"Damn," the exhausted brunette whispers. Jenna flops onto the opposite side of the bed, smiling as she catches her breath.

"Did you enjoy it?" I ask with genuine interest while sitting on the bed to retrieve the pants strewn on the floor. I put on a T-shirt and slip the jacket between my arms.

My eyes glance at my weapons lying on the floor.

"Yeah... but there was no need to dress up," I smile and turn my head in her direction. Jenna looks at me with a smile plastered on her lips, her body completely free from clothes.

I bite my lip mischievously.

"Do you still have energy?" I inquire, and Jenna chuckles softly. "No, I'm exhausted... out of steam," she states, and I laugh at her comment.

I lace up my boots and crouch on the floor, remaining at the same eye level as Jenna. "I'm really sorry... I don't want to seem like a girl who uses you," I brush a strand of hair from her face. "But I can't rest until we're safe and sound," I say, and Jenna genuinely smiles.

"I understand." Jenna brushes my nose with hers and gives me a small kiss on the lips. "Good," I smile and place my lips on her forehead.

I get up and leave the room, sliding into the silence of the deserted structure. While exploring the apartment for something useful, my eyes fall on a radio on one of the shelves. I decide to tune it, and amidst the static, the words of a national announcement emerge.

"Survivors, we invite you to reach the top of the MCI Center. A rescue operation is underway. We await you. The operation will take 3 days, and we will pick up any survivors at dawn."

I return to the room with Jenna, my heart pounding. "We have a chance," I announce, trying to convey the news cautiously. "They've organized a rescue operation. We just have to reach the top of a building five blocks away. Let's get ready for the journey."

Jenna genuinely smiles and gets up from the bed, starting to dress with determination. The atmosphere in the room oscillates between tension and hope. As Jenna puts on her clothes, her gaze meets mine, reflecting a mix of emotions.

"Three days to prepare," Jenna says, clenching her jaw with determination. "We have to make sure we have everything we need. Weapons, food, and anything that might be useful for the journey."

I nod in agreement. "Right. We need to be ready to face anything along the way. We don't know what awaits us out there."

We lock eyes, aware that time is running out. The rescue operation represents our hope to leave behind the nightmare of the zombies and find a safe haven. It's time to prepare for the journey that will determine our fate.

Three days later

"Damn! Help me!" I lean against the door, trying to prevent the zombies from getting in.

Yesterday, during our slow and challenging journey, Jenna and I encountered three-quarters of the Mayers family on the street: Martin, Emma, and Percy. We faced a myriad of zombies, and the run never let up. We were on the 28th floor of the redemption building just 10 minutes from extraction. Jenna was covered in sweat and had just finished the bullets. Percy had an axe, and Martin had a nice hunting rifle.

But ammunition was scarce.

I had long lost the knife I had thrown at a zombie trying to bite Jenna, and the pistol was completely empty. I only had the pump-action shotgun left.

"I got this," Percy, out of breath, hands me the axe, and I use it as a lock to block the door.

I look down, and my blood freezes seeing a scratch on my leg... was it a zombie? Just a scratch? Did I fall? But while I was trying to block the door, a couple of arms tried to touch me to get in.

"Go!" I say breathlessly. Emma looks at me confused and starts running up the stairs with her father. Jenna looks at me with a raised eyebrow as she approaches me, offering her hand. I look at her fearfully.

"Go..." I say hesitantly and slightly scared. Percy gives me a quick glance before following the family up the stairs.

"Don't play the hero and come with me," Jenna smiles genuinely, and I look at my leg. The brunette follows my line of sight, and her eyes immediately lose their brightness. "It's just a scratch." Jenna approaches without fear and looks at me with a small smile on her lips.

The zombie screams continue, and the door was about to give way despite having the axe.

"It could also be a zombie..." I say seriously, and Jenna sighs loudly.

The brunette places her hands around my face and forces me to look her in the eyes. "I don't want to lose you either," she confesses, and my heart flutters thanks to her words. "You're all I have left..." she says softly and leans towards my face, joining our lips in a swift motion.

I close my eyes during the kiss and let myself be carried away by the emotion.

"If I turn, shoot me, okay?" I quickly say, and Jenna nods sadly.

Jenna reaches out, and this time, I grab her hand without thinking twice. As soon as we reach the second flight of stairs, the door breaks, and the zombies run towards us. I kick one zombie, and we run even faster up the stairs.

"Help me with this!" I grab the wardrobe leaning against the stairs, and Jenna quickly understands my intentions.

The brunette leans, and together we throw the wardrobe, slowing down the zombies.

Jenna runs up the stairs, and finally, the door leading to the roof is visible. Emma was at the door, urging us to move. Emma points the rifle I had given her before coming here and shoots some zombies, blowing their heads off.

"Let's go!" Jenna yells and takes my hand again.

A huge smile appears on our lips as we see the helicopter flying over the building from above; some soldiers descend from the vehicle with AK-47s.

"Get in!" one of them shouts. "Girl, get out of there!" he adds, and Emma quickly turns around, running behind us. A horde of zombies exits through the door, the soldiers shoot at the horde and meanwhile retreat.

I throw myself onto the helicopter, Jenna behind me. "We made it!" Jenna yells to Martin and Percy. I smile broadly.

Emma gets in, and the soldiers jump on the helicopter, which starts to move away quickly from the building.

"We made it," I say, smiling slightly, and Jenna nods at my words. The brunette takes my face and kisses me passionately in front of everyone.

"Together," Jenna whispers, resting her forehead against mine, and I unconsciously smile at her gesture.

"We were there too," Percy intervenes, and we all burst into laughter. The atmosphere was completely different now, and I am truly grateful to avoid any confrontation with the zombies now... I just wanted to sleep peacefully and wake up next to Jenna.

The brunette rests her head on my shoulder and closes her eyes to relax a bit.

I think we can enjoy this moment of peace.

[cpericardium]

Compilation of Megafire's Wildbow Essays (Imported)

I haven't read all of them myself, but the few I did were always worthwhile and interesting, so I thought I'd index them here for anyone who hasn't heard of them or checked them out. As I recall, these were written by Megafire as the chapters were coming out.

CHARACTERIZATION OF CAROL IN WARD

REDDIT INDEX

Chapter 3.6 

The Warden's HQ, or, Playing With Time

Chapter 4.6 

Natalie, or, Working Through Proxies

Chapter 5.9 

Power Dynamics, or, Why Carol Love(s/d) Mark

Chapter 6.3 

Trust, Safety and Control, or, General Opinion

Chapter 7.4 

A Glimmer of Hope, or, Victoria and Carol have an Actual Conversation!?

Chapter 8.2 

Meeting the Parents, or, Never mind, Carol is Back to Being Carol

Chapter 8.9 

Baby Steps, or, Carol Manages to Respect Boundaries for Once

Chapter 9.12-9.13 

Bonus Damsel Interlude, or, This Will Pay Off Later, I Promise

Chapter 10.1 

The Diner, or, I Yell a Lot

Chapter 10.y 

Bonus Chris Interlude, or, This Has Nothing to Do With Carol, I Just Really Like This One

Chapter 12.1 

Ruminating on New Wave, or, Why Mark Loves Carol

Chapter 12.2 

Carol vs Damsel, or, I Told You It'd Pay Off

Chapter 12.f 

Ryan and Cradle, or, What It Means to be Good, and, Competing Access Needs, or, Why the Dream Room is the Worst

Chapter 12.9 

The Bubble, or, Making You Feel Even Worse About Carol Getting Hurt

Chapter 14.5 

The Greenhouse, or, Carol Brought Low

Chapter 14.6 (Sort of) 

Drawing Similarities, or, What's Left for Carol

Chapter 14.7 

Chris' Crossroads, or, Screw It, I Guess I'm Talking About Chris Too Now

Chapters 14.9 + 14.10 

Her Mother's Daughter, or, What Amy Learned From Carol

Chapter 14.12 

Piecing Together Chris, or, What Do Monsters Mean?

Chapter 15.7 

Slaves to Fate, or, Predictions and Responsibility

Also Chapter 15.7 

Ultimate Agency, or, Who Is Contessa?

Chapter 16.4 

Mockeries and Funhouse Mirrors, or, Paths Not Taken

Chapter 16.y 

Attempted Therapy, or, Amy Is Not Doing Well

Chapter 17.1 

Family Issues, or, Confrontations Vis-a-Vis Parentage

Chapter 19.1 

The Curious Case of Sarah Pelham, or, A Basic Overview of the Shit That Happened to Sarah

Chapter 19.9-19.10 

The Talk, or, How To Screw Up Your Kids In One Easy Conversation

Chapter 20.e6 

Carol: Final, or, What Has Carol Learned? (Hint: Not Much)

---

PALE ANALYSIS

REDDIT INDEX

Verona and her Dad, a Transactional analysis

Why Verona's Dad is a Literal Manchild - mostly about Out on a Limb 3.1, but with references to 3.4

Adults, Parents and Children

Lucy is Verona's Only Good Parental Figure (and That's Kind Of Sad) - Leaving a Mark 4.2

Pale: Justice

The Cast Of Law And Order: Kennet - Cutting Class 6.z

Practitioner Supremacy

Boy There Are Some Real World Parallels Here - Gone Ahead 7.1

Practitioner Parenting

Regular Old Bad Parenting - Vanishing Points 8.4

Abuse

Brett is an Absolute Bastard - Shaking Hands 9.9

Avery's Games and Gimmicks

Breaking Patterns Is Hard - Dash to Pieces 11.10

Transgressive Acts

Why the Mussers are like the Spartans - Break 5

Practitioners and Others, a Binary

The Binary is a Lie! - Gone and Done It 17.x

Judging the Judiciary

What About the Judges? - Crossed With Silver 19.z

Hostile Environment

Power Plays for the Future - In Absentia 21.12

[youryurigoddess]

A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop and its statues

To start off, you have to be warned that the former set was almost completely destroyed in the S1 bookshop fire and whatever wasn’t important enough to be salvaged before the shooting had to be replaced afterwards. Which means that a few memorable and already identified pieces aren’t there anymore, for better or worse.

This is going to be another long analysis, and certainly not a full one — I’ll describe only the big picture and the most important props. A continuation focusing on the decorations in the less prominent parts of the bookshop will follow here.

Right at the entrance we can see twin tables with the Marly Horses by Guillaume Coustou the Elder. The sculptures showing two rearing horses with their groom were originally commissioned by Louis XV of France for the entrance to château de Marly, a royal residence near Versailles.

In S2 Crowley is shown consistently using one of the horses, partially out of convenience, partially in line with a returning throughout the season dark horse theme. Ironically, the symbolic harnessing of a wild animal mirrors the supposed domestication of the demon by his angel, as seen in the transformation of the statue to the right from the entrance into an altar of his submission.

After all, there’s nothing more vulnerable to Crowley than losing the usual protection of his shades, and using a horse sculpture as a stand for his sunglasses speaks volumes about his natural aptitude towards uncertain and liminal states. He thrives in stress situations, dangles his feet while hopping onto a curb, and assumes the form of a non-Euclidean fluid when asked to sit down in a chair. Stability isn’t exactly what he’s most comfortable with. So what for Aziraphale signifies the power over his (theirs?) own domain and ultimate safe space, for Crowley means a challenge.

It makes sense that this particular spot near the exit is where the demon feels most secure in the bookshop, his favorite place in the world. That’s where he stood after crossing its threshold in 1941 too.

The statue in the middle, right on top of the central bookstand, was replaced after the S1 fire. It’s still clearly a Cupid, but in a different pose and without his weapons — instead of shooting an arrow, now he’s holding his left hand over his head, pointing up towards Heaven or God. Quite a change. This is the most similar copy made after Ernest Rancoulet. The butterfly-like wings (similar to the ones Rancoulet used in his La Nuit Tout Repose, At Night Everything Rests) on the copy in the bookshop have visible screws, so they were probably added either by the previous owner or the Good Omens art department.

What’s especially important from the analytic point of view is that similarly to S1, the Cupid in question still appears in the frame facing Crowley, but not targeting him anymore, like it used to, but rather mirroring. The most memorable example appears during the Final Fifteen™ when the demon points up with left hand to highlight his “No nightingales” line.

This one will be fun! Everyone, meet George Maxim’s bronze allegory of Music in her full glory. Angels like music in general, right? And Aziraphale is a known audiophile, which was asserted in the very first episode of the new season. But there’s another link to music in his angelic roots. A rather apocalyptic one — the Archangel Raphael is believed to blow the trumpet from a holy rock in Jerusalem to announce the Second Coming (the Day of Resurrection), and Israfil, its Islamic counterpart, Qiyamah (the Day of Judgment).

Staying in the very same context, let’s read the ballad Israfel by Edgar Allen Poe, which was obviously inspired by the titular Archangel.

Nothing on Earth lasts forever — but that’s exactly the reason why we should use it for inspiration, savor this momentary bliss, and hold it in our hearts. The ballad shares the same sentiment about all creation being temporary and only the passions of angels (i.e., Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s feelings) staying eternally unchanging as Aziraphale’s “Nothing lasts forever”. His line was intended as an affirmation of his feelings, similar to “You go too fast for me, Crowley”.

And just like the Cupid is mirroring Crowley in the “No nightingales” line, Music is targeting Aziraphale with her harp in the following frame.

On the counter there’s a smaller bronze statue, which original unfortunately remains unidentified, but I was able to track some similar designs. A woman coming back from the harvest with crops — either a representation of Autumn or the Greek goddess Demeter bringing a blessing of a plentiful harvest. In the Bible, the harvest is a metaphor for both spiritual fruitfulness and judgment. Our productivity in God’s kingdom is supposedly tied to our faith and obedience. And the most popular verses repeat an even older saying, how one reaps what they sow:

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. (Galatians 6:7-8)

And another angel came out of the temple, calling with a loud voice to him who sat on the cloud, “Put in your sickle, and reap, for the hour to reap has come, for the harvest of the earth is fully ripe.” (Revelation 14:15)

The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. (Jeremiah 8:20)

If you read The summer that was never supposed to end meta, you’ll interpret the figure itself as a rather ominous sign. Now let’s add to it positioning right next to the gigantic Victorian cash register one cannot possibly overlook and the recurring theme of payment. And the fact that it conveniently disappears at some point in The Ball (S02E05) episode, never to be seen again. Is the payment reminder not needed anymore, because its day just came?

For some reason ever since S1 this one was often interpreted as a bust of Alexander the Great by the fandom. The proper name is the Head of a Victorious Athlete, also known as Benevento Head. As this suggests, the originally bronze sculpture represents a victorious athlete wearing an olive crown and was found near Benevento in Italy, in the remnants of the ancient town Herculaneum, wiped off from the face of the earth together with Pompeii in a tragic volcanic eruption (which was conveniently used later on as a more modern example of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah). It’s an obviously Roman copy of a Greek sculpture and dates back to 50 AD, less than a decade after Aziraphale and Crowley met in Rome in 41 AD— who knows, maybe they were still around at the time? This would make an interesting connection to the statue Crowley brought back to his apartment in 1941.

And no, in the HD quality and especially en face it doesn’t appear similar to Crowley. In fact, there seems to be a very good reason why most photographers choose another, more flattering angle for this particular artwork. But aesthetics aside, the white bust seems more like a mirror for Aziraphale and his self-constructed (and self-imposed) idealized image, based on a specific set of virtues. The presented athlete is victorious because he’s the epitome of the Platonic Triad of higher Forms: Truth, Beauty, and Excellence, understood in the wider context of the Greek Aretē.

To highlight this point, in S1 the head was literally used as a designated display place of the medal Aziraphale got as a commendation for his 6000 years on Earth in the 1800 cut scene. As a free agent not affiliated with Heaven in S2 he doesn’t hang it there anymore, but the medal is still in the bookshop, visible on his desk. You can see it in detail and read the description of its provenance in the last bookshop meta.

Daedalus and Icarus are a very popular motif in the history of art, but certainly not in this overtly masculine, military style. Icarus was too ambitious for his own good and ignored explicit instructions, which constitutes both the sin of pride and that of disobedience to one's parents (or one’s Creator?).

Interestingly, there’s also a version of the myth in which Icarus fashioned himself greater than Helios, the Sun himself, and the god himself punished him for it with the fall — which resonates very strongly with my vision of Crowley both in relation to his Fall and potential S3 development.

But back to Aziraphale. If the medal in question was given to him as a commendation he from the Supreme Archangel himself, it also serves as a warning for him to not get too arrogant or comfortable with his accomplishment (i.e., life on Earth) or it might lead to his fall (or, in this case, Fall).

Foreshadowing much?

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 11

word count: 6.9k

heres the awaited update!! i got in at 2 am and have been working on it since, its 5:30 am now!! hope u enjoy!

When the semester started back up again, Aspen found herself buried under the weight of her new workload. Classes demanded more than she expected, and the long hours spent poring over textbooks and notes left little room for herself, let alone time to see Harry. She felt like her world had shifted entirely to the library or her desk at home, where assignments piled up faster than she could cross them off.

That also meant she saw less of Harry. Each day that passed without seeing him seemed to stretch longer, her thoughts lingering on him more than she wanted to admit. She hated how easily she could recall the feeling of his hands brushing her skin or the way his lips curved when he smiled—how that smile seemed reserved just for her. By now, Isobel was well in tune with what was happening between them. Though nothing had been made official, it was clear there was something brewing. Aspen occasionally found herself at Harry's place, sneaking in fleeting kisses that inevitably stretched into hours tangled on his couch, her cheeks flushed pink by the time she was dropped off at home.

On Harry's end, things weren’t much different. Niall and Zayn remained blissfully unaware—or at least pretended to be. They hadn’t pressed him about it, though Harry suspected they had their suspicions. Still, he wasn’t one to share personal details, and his feelings for Aspen were something he preferred to keep tucked away, both in his mind and on the pages of his journal. Each time he wrote about her, his handwriting grew messier, betraying the restless emotions he wasn’t used to feeling.

As more days passed, Harry found himself thinking about her more frequently. The texts they exchanged helped fill the void, but it wasn’t enough. They spoke throughout the day—small updates, silly jokes, and the occasional goodnight text—but nothing could compare to having her close. He missed the way she fit perfectly against him, the soft curve of her smile, and how her shy laughter sounded like a melody he never wanted to end.

Aspen wasn’t immune to her distractions either. During lectures, her mind wandered far too often. A professor could be explaining a complex derivative, and she’d find herself remembering the way Harry’s arms tightened around her waist as he kissed her. Even mundane tasks like shelving books became harder to focus on, as her thoughts drifted to the warmth of his green-eyed gaze or the way his rough fingers brushed against her softer skin.

Finally, the week ended, and Aspen was blessed with the rare gift of a completely free weekend. No homework loomed over her, no shifts were scheduled, and for once, no tests needed studying. During her last lecture of the day, she realized her upcoming freedom and quickly texted Harry:

Aspen: mmmhm! i’m free i’m freeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Harry’s lips quirked up into a soft smile when he read her text, his green eyes briefly glancing around the empty shop before he typed his reply:

Harry: Let me pick you up from the library today? I’ll be done here at five.

Aspen: yes! i promised marion that i would shelf some books before i take off for the weekend. can you wait a few mins?

Harry: Anything for you, sun.

Harry clicked his phone shut and slipped it into the back pocket of his black skinny jeans, the faintest smile still lingering on his face. He turned to the sink, scrubbing his hands clean, the soap foaming white under the running water. After drying them off, he snapped on a fresh pair of nitrile gloves and turned his attention back to the supplies on the metal tray in front of him. "Alright, Z. You ready?"

Zayn grinned, his excitement evident even as he settled into the chair. Harry’s eyes flicked to the reference papers Zayn had brought in—designs inspired by Isobel’s lipstick marks on scraps of paper. Zayn had teased Harry relentlessly while they worked on the design, but Harry had focused, sketching until they both agreed on a final concept: a kiss print nestled between a pair of delicately detailed angel wings.

The machine buzzed softly as Harry began the work, his gloved hand steady as he guided the needle. He paused frequently to clean the area, ensuring the lines stayed sharp and smooth. Zayn’s chatter filled the space as Harry worked, but his mind occasionally wandered to Aspen. Would she still be shelving books when he arrived? Would she smile shyly when she saw him, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear like she always did when she was nervous?

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

By the time Harry arrived at the library, the sun had set, casting long shadows across the building's entrance. He pushed the door open, the soft chime signaling his arrival. His eyes scanned the quiet room, landing almost immediately on Aspen. She was behind the library desk, her head bent over a stack of returns. A stray strand of hair fell across her face as she worked, and he watched as she tucked it behind her ear absentmindedly.

She didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in her task. He leaned against the counter, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Busy night?”

Her head shot up, her wide eyes softening as they locked onto his familiar figure, and a soft smile curved her lips. “Harry,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, carrying just enough warmth to melt through the quiet buzz of the library. For a brief moment, she was struck by the urge to stretch across the counter, her arms aching to wrap around him, to pull him close and feel the comfort she missed in the weeks they’d been apart. But the soft murmur of voices and the rustling of pages around them made her pause, grounding her in the present. Instead, she offered him a shy smile, the kind that made her eyes dart to the side in nervousness before finding their way back to him.

"Hey, doll. Wha's that you're workin' on?" Harry nudged his head toward the stack of books, his voice smooth yet laced with curiosity. His keys spun lazily around his finger, the metallic jingling matching the calm cadence of his words. Though his eyes lingered on her, intent and focused, he allowed them to flick briefly to the stack of books as she explained her task—returns that needed scanning and shelving before she could call it a day.

“Would y'like some help?”

The question caught Aspen off guard. She blinked up at him, the thought of Harry offering to help with something so mundane leaving her a little flustered. She’d expected him to wait patiently in the car, maybe scrolling through his phone or listening to music until she was done. But instead, here he was, standing in front of her with an earnest expression that made her heart flutter unexpectedly. Her mind stuttered to process, and her response stumbled out, shy and small. “Y-yes, please. If you’d like to.”

Harry gave a small nod, slipping his keys into the pocket of his black skinny jeans. His footsteps were confident as he walked around the counter, his tall frame effortlessly commanding the space. “Alright,” he said with a crooked smile, “where d’you want me? What should I do?”

Kiss me, she thought instinctively, the boldness of her unspoken desire catching her off guard. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she scrambled to push the thought away, acutely aware of how it made her feel vulnerable and exposed. Aspen had always carried this strange belief that her thoughts could somehow be read by the people around her, and with Harry standing so close, she feared her reaction was written all over her face.

“J-just help me push around the cart? Is that okay?” Her voice wavered slightly as she gestured to the metal cart, hastily piling books onto it after scanning them into the system. From the corner of her eye, she noticed how his hands wrapped firmly around the cart’s handle, the muscles in his forearms flexing subtly under the grip. Her focus wavered again, and she moved with a newfound determination, trying her best to finish quickly so he wouldn’t have to wait too long.

After a few minutes, Aspen led the way down the aisles, her steps light but purposeful as Harry followed close behind, pushing the cart with ease. They stopped in the non-fiction section, where she reached for three thick Chemistry 10 textbooks. Balancing them in her arms, she stretched onto her tiptoes, her tongue peeking out at the corner of her lips as she tried to reach the top shelf.

Before she could place the books, she felt Harry’s hands gently settle on her hips, grounding her with a soft but steady pressure. “Here, let me,” he murmured, his voice low and close to her ear. Aspen froze, her heart thudding in her chest as he took the books from her hands, his fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment. With an effortless reach, he slotted the books into their rightful place on the shelf, the motion fluid and precise.

“There we are,” Harry hummed, his voice warm with satisfaction as his hands returned to her hips. His touch lingered, his thumbs tracing faint circles against the fabric of her leggings. Aspen felt her breath catch as he shifted slightly closer, his presence wrapping around her like a comforting weight.

He scanned their surroundings quickly, his green eyes sweeping over the quiet aisles until he was sure they were alone. Satisfied, he ducked his head, his breath warm against the shell of her ear as he inhaled the soft, familiar scent that had stayed with him for days. “Can I kiss you?” he muttered, his voice barely audible, a husky whisper laced with a longing that sent a shiver down her spine. His thumbs pressed a little deeper into her hips, grounding her while his words made her head spin.

Aspen took a sharp breath, the heat rushing to her cheeks like a tidal wave. Her lips parted, but only a soft squeak escaped, her nervousness bubbling over. “H-Harry,” she stammered, her hands trembling slightly as they reached up to cover his, pulling them away gently so she could turn to face him. Her wide eyes met his, the emotions swirling in his gaze making her heart race even faster.

“Not here, okay?” she whispered, her voice steady despite the blush staining her cheeks. “Is that okay?”

Harry stared at her for a moment, the intensity in his gaze softening into something more tender. He nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile as he brought her hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Of course, love. My apologies.”

Though he stepped back slightly, the weight of his words and the warmth of his touch lingered between them, leaving Aspen feeling a strange mix of relief and anticipation.

They continued about their day, Harry kissing over her knuckles or a kiss to the top of her head before he helped her reach the higher shelves. God, how he wanted to actually kiss her pained him. It only took another ten minutes, if that, before Aspen was slinging her totebag over her shoulders and bidding a good weekend to Marion. When she appeared out of the back room, Harry looked up from his phone, locking it and tucking it back into his pocket while he stood up. "Y'ready?" He asked, holding his hand out for her to take it. The familiar feeling that he missed of her fingers curling around his warmed up his hand, and he pulled her a bit closer as they walked out. 

Harry opened the passenger door with his usual care, stepping aside to let Aspen climb into the car. The cold night air bit at her skin as she slid into the seat, grateful to escape its grasp. The interior of the car was still chilly, but not nearly as bitter as outside. She shivered lightly, clutching the ends of her off-the-shoulder long sleeve, the thin material doing little to combat the weather. The fabric clung to her figure, and her flared leggings offered minimal warmth against the evening breeze.

As she clicked her seatbelt into place, the driver’s side door opened, and Harry climbed in, his presence immediately warming the space. The familiar sound of the engine hummed to life, quickly followed by a rush of heat from the vents. Aspen instinctively held her hands over them, sighing contently as the warm air washed over her chilled fingers and spread through her body.

Harry chuckled softly at her small gesture, the sound low and comforting, as he reached for his seatbelt. "Cold, huh?" he teased, his emerald eyes flicking over to her with a glimmer of amusement.

“Freezing,” Aspen replied, her voice muffled slightly as she kept her face near the vents, soaking in the much-needed warmth.

It had become their unspoken routine whenever Aspen rode in Harry’s car. As the warmth filled the space, his hand naturally found its place on her leg, just above her knee. His thumb began its familiar rhythm, tracing lazy, thoughtless shapes into the fabric of her leggings. The small motion sent a ripple of comfort through her. Occasionally, Aspen would place her hand over his, her fingers playing idly with the silver rings that adorned them, twisting each one gently as though committing them to memory.

She could feel his gaze lingering on her, and after a moment, her shy eyes flitted toward him. His intense stare caught her off guard, and she noticed the car hadn't moved despite the engine purring for the past few minutes. “Is something wrong?” she asked, her brows knitting together in curiosity. A small, playful pout tugged at her lips, an expression that made Harry’s heart stutter.

His eyes dropped briefly to her lips before rising to meet her wide, questioning gaze. “I jus’ really want t’kiss you. Can I?” His voice was soft but deliberate, holding a vulnerability that made Aspen’s cheeks flush instantly.

Her heart fluttered wildly at his words, and she turned instinctively toward the library entrance. A stream of people had begun flooding the parking lot, their chatter and footsteps filling the night air. She hesitated, her eyes darting back to Harry’s as the blush on her cheeks deepened.

Sensing her apprehension, Harry gave her knee a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay, Asp,” he murmured, his tone warm and grounding. “You can always tell me no, and I’ll listen. I want what you want.”

Her chest swelled at his words, the sincerity in his gaze making her stomach twist in that all-too-familiar way. Aspen hesitated for a beat longer before leaning forward slightly, her lips parting with a soft, almost timid, “Okay.”

Harry’s smile was slow and tender, his hand sliding slightly higher on her thigh as he leaned across the console. His lips met hers cheek gently, placing a lingering kiss that made her feel relaxed. It wasn’t rushed or demanding; it was patient and deliberate, as though he was savoring every second of it.

When he pulled away, Aspen blinked up at him, her cheeks glowing with a mix of cold and warmth. “I missed you,” she admitted softly, the confession slipping out before she could stop it.

Harry chuckled, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “Missed you too, sun,” he murmured.

Before they could linger too long in the moment, Aspen’s phone buzzed in her bag. She fished it out, squinting at the screen. “It’s Isobel,” she said, reading the message. “She’s staying with Zayn tonight.”

Harry arched a brow, leaning back in his seat as he shifted the car into reverse. “Guess that means I’m takin’ you home,” he said, his tone laced with a teasing suggestion which made Aspen shy herself into her seat.

The ride to Harry’s apartment was quiet but comfortable, filled with soft music and the warmth of stolen glances. When they arrived, Harry parked and walked Aspen up to his door, his hand lightly resting on the small of her back. He unlocked the door and stepped aside, letting her enter first.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair. “I’ll order us some takeout. Any requests?”

Aspen wandered into the living room, setting her bag down by the couch as she took in the familiar space. It smelled like him—clean and musky, with a hint of something spicy lingering in the air. “Anything’s fine,” she replied, her voice soft as she perched on the edge of the couch.

Harry nodded, pulling out his phone as he leaned against the counter. “Alright. We’ll get somethin’ good. Y'can pick a movie if y’want.”

Aspen smiled to herself, feeling the ease of their dynamic settle back into place as she began scrolling through his neatly organized stack of DVDs. The titles were meticulously arranged alphabetically, a detail she found both endearing and amusing given the casual chaos of the rest of his apartment. Her fingers lingered over the cases, occasionally pulling one halfway out to examine the cover before tucking it back in its spot. She eventually decided on The Aristocats, a classic that sparked a nostalgic warmth in her chest. After slipping the disc into the DVD player and clicking the TV on, she turned toward the couch, her eyes following Harry shyly as he emerged from the kitchen, balancing two steaming mugs in his hands.

He set the mugs down on the coffee table, his gaze catching hers briefly with a teasing smile before he took his seat. Jasper, his sleek black cat, wasted no time weaving between their legs, his silky fur brushing against their ankles as he meowed insistently. Aspen reached down to scoop the demanding feline into her lap, the soft weight of him grounding her as she dug her fingers into his fur, earning a satisfied purr.

Harry leaned back into the couch, his posture relaxed yet commanding as his arms draped across the backrest. His gaze flicked between Aspen and Jasper, his lips quirking in a way that made his dimples deepen. She didn’t notice at first, too focused on the rhythmic motion of her hand stroking the cat, but the growing smirk on his face was hard to miss.

"What’s so funny?" she huffed, her brows knitting together as she squinted up at him. Her hands didn’t pause in their ministrations, much to Jasper’s delight, his purrs growing louder.

Harry’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You’re jus’... I guess you could say you’re playing with a pussy on my co—"

"Harry!" Aspen squealed, cutting him off as she lunged forward to slap her hand over his mouth. Her cheeks burned an intense red, the heat crawling up to the tips of her ears. Harry’s laugh vibrated against her palm, his amusement muffled but unmistakable.

He peeled her hand away gently, his dimples on full display as he tossed his hands up in mock surrender. "What? It was funny," he defended, his voice laced with unrepentant laughter.

Aspen glared half-heartedly at him, though the corners of her mouth twitched as if fighting off a smile. "You’re impossible," she grumbled, tucking her legs beneath her and pulling a throw pillow into her lap as if to shield herself from further embarrassment. She turned away, releasing Jasper from her lap with a huff, the cat hopping gracefully to the floor and padding away in search of a quieter corner. "Sorry, your dad ruined the moment," she muttered under her breath, her tone laced with mock indignation.

Harry chuckled again, the sound low and warm as he scooted closer. "C'mere, baby," he murmured, his voice softening as he reached out to tap her shoulder. His tone held a gentleness that made her heart skip, and before she could protest, he took her hand and helped her to her feet.

The movement was brief, just enough for him to guide her down onto the couch beside him, her body instinctively leaning into his as he tucked her against his side. His arm curled around her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder as his fingers traced absentminded patterns against the fabric of her shirt.

Harry’s nose buried into her hair, and he inhaled softly, his lips brushing against her temple. The faint scent of her shampoo, a delicate mix of vanilla and something floral, lingered in the air between them. "You smell amazing," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, sending a shiver down her spine.

Aspen felt her cheeks heat again, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she let herself sink into the comfort of his embrace, her hands resting lightly against his chest. The movie played on in the background, the familiar animation and soft melodies creating a cocoon of warmth around them.

Harry nestled another kiss to her temple, lingering just long enough for her to feel the subtle press of his lips before he turned his attention back to the screen. His thumb continued its soothing motion against her arm, and Aspen let out a quiet sigh, her earlier embarrassment melting away into a quiet, contented calm.

The knock on the door pulled them both from their quiet comfort. Jasper darted off Aspen’s feet at the sound, his tail flicking in mild annoyance as he trotted toward the hallway. Harry gently untangled himself from her and stood, stretching briefly before heading to the door.

“Chinese is here,” he called over his shoulder, tossing her a quick grin as he grabbed his wallet from the counter. Aspen adjusted her position on the couch, her legs curling beneath her as she watched him exchange pleasantries with the delivery person.

When Harry returned, he carried the brown paper bag in one hand, the smell of sweet and savory spices wafting through the room. “Smells good, doesn’t it?” he said, setting the bag on the coffee table and pulling out the containers.

Aspen nodded eagerly, her stomach growling at the sight. “It smells amazing. What did you get?”

“Couple of m'favorites—orange chicken, beef lo mein, and dumplings. Thought we could share.” He shot her a wink as he grabbed two sets of chopsticks from the bag, handing one to her.

Aspen opened the container of orange chicken first, the steam rising as she took her first bite. “Mmm,” she hummed, covering her mouth with her hand. “This is so good. You’re officially in charge of ordering takeout from now on.”

Harry smirked, his eyes flickering toward her as he took a bite of lo mein. “That right? Guess I’ll have to keep impressin’ you, huh?”

Their banter continued as they ate, the movie playing softly in the background. Every so often, Harry reached over with his chopsticks to steal a bite from her container, earning a mock glare from Aspen. She retaliated by snatching one of his dumplings, popping it into her mouth with a triumphant smile.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he teased, his voice warm and low.

Aspen shrugged innocently, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “You started it.”

As the movie played on, they settled further into the couch, their containers now abandoned on the coffee table, save for a few leftover bites. Harry stretched his arm along the back of the couch again, pulling Aspen closer until she was nestled against his side.

“Comfortable?” he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her shoulder.

She nodded, her cheek pressing against his chest. “Very,” she whispered, her voice laced with contentment.

Time seemed to slow as they sank into the moment. The warmth of Harry’s body against hers, the quiet hum of the movie, and the faint aroma of takeout lingering in the air made everything feel soft and surreal.

As the movie neared its end, Harry’s gaze drifted from the screen to Aspen. Her focus remained on the animated cats dancing across the screen, her lips curved into a faint smile. He couldn’t help but marvel at her—the way her hair framed her face, the way her glasses slid slightly down her nose, and the way her fingers absently played with the hem of her sleeve.

“You’re beautiful, y’know that?” he murmured, his voice cutting through the quiet.

Aspen blinked, her head tilting up to look at him. The blush that colored her cheeks was immediate, her lips parting in surprise. “Harry...”

“I mean it,” he said, his green eyes locking onto hers. His hand cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing over her flushed skin. “You’re so beautiful, Aspen.”

She swallowed hard, her heart racing as she searched his face. The sincerity in his gaze made her chest tighten in the best possible way. “Thank you,” she whispered, leaning into his touch.

Harry’s lips curved into a soft smile, and he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. “Anytime, love.”

Hearing words like that from Harry, her big, intimidating, scary Harry, made her stomach fill with butterflies she could never had imagined herself having.

They returned their attention to the movie, though the atmosphere between them had shifted slightly, the air tinged with something deeper. As the final few scenes played out, Harry’s arm tightened around her, and Aspen felt a warmth bloom in her chest that rivaled anything she’d ever felt before.

Harry ended up nudging Aspen slightly, his shoulder bumping her up. The girl looked up, tilting her head as if to ask him 'what?' He hummed, the arm not wrapped around her shoulders went to rest on her knee once again. He gave it a gentle squeeze. "I haven't kissed you all day t'day," He mumbled. Before she could open her mouth to speak, he sighed softly. "Can I please kiss you? Please?"

Aspen blinked up at him, her cheeks aflame as his words lingered in the air. "Y-you’re... you’re too much," she mumbled, ducking her head in an attempt to hide behind the curtain of her hair. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, twisting it nervously as she peeked at him from beneath her lashes.

Harry, however, wasn’t about to let her retreat. "Too much?" he repeated, his voice full of mock offense but underlined with a genuine softness. He leaned closer, dipping his head to catch her eyes. "No, love, you’ve got it all wrong," His thick voice muttered, "I’m just the right amount when it comes to you."

Aspen’s lips parted as though she wanted to reply, but her voice failed her, the words getting stuck in her throat. Instead, she shrank further into herself, her shy demeanor only making Harry’s heart ache in the best possible way.

"You don’t believe me, d'you?" Harry pressed, his thumb brushing her cheek gently. "Alright, I’ll prove it. You’re the one thing I can’t stop thinking about. I wake up wishing you were next to me. I go to sleep kicking myself for not being braver with you. You’re in m'sketchbook, my bloody head, everywhere, Aspen. And ’s torture. Possibly the best damn kind."

Aspen’s breath hitched, her wide eyes darting to meet his as her blush deepened. "I-I don’t know what to say," she whispered, her voice so quiet it barely reached him.

Harry gave a self-deprecating laugh, running his free hand through his hair before letting it rest over his heart. "You don’t have to say anything. Just—just let me show you, yeah? Give me a chance to kiss you again. I’ll even beg, if that’s what it takes." His lips curved into a small, pleading smile, his dimples making a faint feature as he dipped his head closer.

"Harry, I..." Aspen trailed off, her fingers trembling as she clutched at the edge of her sweater.

"Please, love," he whispered, the desperation in his voice both playful and painfully sincere. He brought her hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "I’ve missed you too much. One more kiss. Just one. I swear I’ll behave after that."

Aspen’s gaze flickered between his earnest expression and the way his thumb traced over her hand. Her heart pounded as she struggled to form a coherent thought. Finally, she gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.

His furrowed brows relaxed with a content sigh, his tongue poking out to wet his lips slightly as he moved impossibly closer. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he cradled her face in his hands. His lips brushed hers so softly, it was as though he was savoring every second, committing the moment to memory. 

Harry didn’t waste a second. His hand tilted her chin up as he closed the distance, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that started tender but quickly grew more urgent. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a pouring out of everything he’d been holding back—the longing, the adoration, the quiet ache he felt every time he looked at her and couldn’t have her close enough.

Aspen responded hesitantly at first, her hands finding their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. But as Harry’s lips moved against hers, slow yet deliberate, she melted into him completely.

This time, Aspen didn’t pull back in hesitation. Instead, she let herself fall into the kiss, her hands resting timidly on his chest as his warmth surrounded her. Harry groaned softly against her lips, his thumb caressing her cheek as he deepened the kiss just enough to make her knees feel weak, even while seated. His tongue swiped over her bottom lip carefully, but before she could let him in, he pulled back.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, his voice was a breathless whisper. "You have no idea how much I needed that. You’re gonna ruin me, doll. Completely ruin me."

Aspen’s shy giggle broke the moment, her cheeks still rosy as she looked down at her lap. 

 "C'mere," he pulled his arm from over her and helped pull her to sit straddled on his lap. "We won't go anywhere you aren't ready to go, okay? I jus' want t'kiss you some more. Can I do that? Can you sit on m'lap and be my good girl?"

Aspen's breath hitched in her throat at his last question. Nervously, she nodded while her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt that fell above his shoulders. Pleased with her answer, Harry flashed a small smile while one of his hands snaked to cup her jaw, tilting her head down. 

Their lips connected at a slow pace first, Harry being careful and letting her adjust to their new seating arrangement. After a couple of slow kisses, their heads tilted to deepen their shared kiss. Harry wasted no time in swiping his tongue along her bottom lip and taking advantage of the warm invitation. Once their flow was found, his hands went back to their place on the curve of her hips. He loved when she wore leggings, it was the closest he could get to feeling her-- the thinnest material aside from her jeans and sweats that she occasionally wore. 

Aspens tongue shyly twisted around Harrys. His lead was easy to follow, the messy movements still clean and sent chills down her spine. Her hands rested on his strong shoulders, feeling the occasional flex in his neck when he leaned in further to kiss her or when he tilted his head to deepen their kiss. 

Soon, his lips made their way from her lips to her cheek. He was slow, careful with the areas he planted his kisses. "Can I..." Harry’s voice was low, rough with desire as his hand moved to rest at the curve of her shoulder and neck, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. "Can I kiss you here?"

Her heart raced at the question, her mind spinning as she weighed the request. Harry had always been so respectful, so careful, never pushing her beyond her comfort zone. The warmth in his gaze made her feel safe, like she could trust him with every vulnerable part of herself.

"Y-yes," she squeaked, the word barely audible as her teeth caught her bottom lip nervously.

Harry’s eyes darkened at the sight, a deep sigh escaping him as his thumb gently pulled her lip free. "God..." His voice was little more than a murmur before he leaned in to capture her lips in another kiss, slow and deliberate.

Harry took her chin between the bent of his index finger and thumb, his finger slowly pulling her bottom lip from her teeth so he could capture it in a softer kiss. He let her get warmed up once again, the hand on her hip slowly inching up to the hem of her shirt. Harrys hand was half under the thin material when his lips began to trail from her lips to her jaw.

His kisses were slow and lingered for specks of a moment. He carried his wet and warm kisses towards her pulse point. His plump red lips dragged lazily yet intentionally along her warm skin. Aspen tilted her head to the side for him to allow more access. 

His lips moved from hers to her jaw, then down the column of her neck, each kiss lingering just long enough to make her skin tingle. Aspen’s hands gripped his shoulders tighter, her breath hitching as his kisses grew more deliberate. When his lips brushed a particularly sensitive spot near her pulse point, a soft sound escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Harry smirked against her skin, his hands tightening slightly on her hips in response. "There we go," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he pressed another kiss to the spot that had drawn her reaction.

Harry trailed his lingering kisses back up to her lips to capture them in another deep kiss. His hand was now fully tucked under her shirt, his ring clad hand flush against her bare waist. He gave a firm yet gentle squeeze and pulled her closer, his other hand dropping to do the same. When he pulled away, he pecked her lips and then nose with a small smile breaking through his lips. She would never get tired of seeing it on him.

His hands slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, the cool metal of his rings brushing against her warm skin as his palms splayed against her waist. He pulled her closer, his fingers flexing slightly as if trying to memorize the feel of her.

Harry pulled back just enough to press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, a soft smile spreading across his lips. "How was that, baby?" His pupils had been blown and his lips carried a red tint as well as the same wet sheen she was sure to have on her lips as well. She nodded carefully and swallowed lightly. "I-It was good." Harry gave a content hum, asking her again. "Did you like it? Did y'like what I did?" 

"I.. I did." With another inhale, Aspen felt a rush of bravery. Maybe it was because it was just Harry and her now, but she pushed the words out before she succummed to her shyness again. "Is it okay if I.. if I try?" Her eyes pleaded with his to understand what she meant without having to say it.

Harry was quick to catch on, his furrowed brows easing into another look. One that made Aspens stomach curl. He nodded and exhaled deeply through his nose, his thumbs brushing against her bare skin under her shirt. "Yeah? You want to do that f'me?" Harry sat up a bit more, adjusting the girl on his lap so she could be more comfortable. 

It wasn't long until their lips were locked again. She truly would never get over kissing Harry, the girl thought. Something about him was so addictive. She didn't have anything or anyone to compare it to but she knew whatever he made her feel was a hundred times better compared to whatever else was out in the world, and that she never needed to find out what came close to his competition because all she needed was him.

Her hands gently brushed up his neck and towards the back to thread through the curls at the base of his neck. She tried her best to follow Harrys actions from her hazy memory. She let a soft giggle slip past her lips when Harrys hands brushed up against her sides in a ticklish manner before he planted them back onto her body. She dragged her lips like Harry did to her along his jaw and down the side of his neck. She kissed at his skin nice and slow with open kisses, allowing the warmth to close against his skin before she made her way down and around with more. 

Aspens hands slid down to his shoulders and he let out a soft groan of approval. His head was now leaned back to allow Aspen more space. She had to be heaven sent with the way these things came so naturally to her. His tongue wet his lips again, brushing along the metal lip ring.

Aspen hesitated for only a moment before leaning in, her lips finding his in a kiss that was hesitant but full of intent. Her fingers brushed against his neck before sliding up into the soft curls at the nape, earning a soft groan from Harry as he let her take the lead.

"Tha’s it, baby," he murmured against her lips, his hands guiding her hips gently. "You’re doing s'good. Feels so good." Harry's last words came out in a content sigh, gulping around the air to ease his dry mouth. There was no way she was this good. Or maybe it was just something about Aspen. Or both.

Aspen’s kisses grew braver as she followed his earlier movements, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and down the side of his neck. Her heart pounded as she felt his breath hitch, his hands gripping her waist more firmly in encouragement.

"Swear you’re gonna be the end of me, Asp," Harry groaned, his head tilting back as her lips worked against his skin. His voice was rough, his words laced with a mixture of awe and disbelief. The cool air brushed along his damp neck while he pressed their lips together once again, a new need present. His hands squeezed her bare waist in approval before one of his hands slipped out to cup her chin and pull her away from his neck to tangle their tongues once more. 

Something about her bravery to do something like that back to him caused a shift in his hips. What he didn't expect was to Aspen shift her hips as well. He knew it was so she could adjust and get closer, but that didn't matter at all when he felt himself twitch in his jeans. He pulled away with a small gasp of air, his thumb back on her wet bottom lip. Harry's hand stilled her hips, swallowing slowly.

"Jesus, Asp. What the fuck."

Aspen tilted her head as she looked into his eyes through her lashes once more, her doe eyes taking form as if to question him. "Did.. did I mess up?"

Harry only groaned. "Fuck no." His green eyes, filled with need for the girl, scanned over her face once more. Her red cheeks were replaced with a more flustered look and her eyes had softened. Her lips became slick with spit over the red they wore from all the kissing they had done. 

"You jus' have no idea what you do t'me."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Aspen's soft eyes blinked to fight away the blazing sun through the crack in the curtain. Her arms reached out to stretch her small frame, her body going limp and falling further into the mattress once her body relaxed. Her eyes remained closed until she heard soft footsteps making their way closer. A small knock came on the door before it clicked open. Aspen rubbed the sleep from her eyes, sitting up slightly. When she fluttered her eyes back to normal, she saw Harry. 

A small smile fit on her face. "Hi," she muttered, sleep still heavy on her voice. She didn't even remember falling asleep. The last thing she really remembered was tucking herself back into Harry's warm side after her stomach filled with butterflies from his praises on how good she did for him.

"Good morning, sun," Harry leaned down to press a small kiss to her head. He sat down in front of her on his bed, admiring her sleepy state. He took note of her furrowed brows, which usually meant she was a little confused. Harry never minded explaining things to her.

"You fell asleep during Lady and the Tramp. So I took you up here to sleep. I took the couch," He told her, his fingers coming to adjust the metal ring looped through his lip. "You just looked so peaceful, so I didn't want to wake you to take you home. If you want me to next time, I--."

Aspen cut him off with a little giggle and a shake of her head. "No, no this was great. Thank you. Your bed is sooo comfy," Aspen sighed contently and fell back into it which drew a small chuckle from Harry. 

He looked not like he had just woken up, but he didn't look ready for anything either. He was in a simple pair of black sweats and a loose white tee, his curls brushed back and a new coat of black nail polish on his hands.

He had woken up around eight, whereas Aspen woke up closer to nine thirty. So, while he waited and gave her space, he decided to busy himself with a shower and redid his nails. He eventually got bored and wandered his way back to Aspen, who he checked on about five times since he woke up, and to his luck, she had been awake this time. 

"Alright, sugar. C'mon and get up. Let's get you home before Isobel calls."

And just on cue, Aspen's phone rang to life with Isobel's contact name and photo flashing across her screen on Harry's bedside table.

Gosh dang it, Aspen thought to herself. Could Zayn really not have tired her out some more so she could sleep in? Aspen was in for a loooong day with Isobel. 

Harry only snickered, tossing his hands up in innocence. She only shot a playful glare before answering the dreaded call.

[firelordsfirelady]

XII. Rooftop Tea

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 1783

Destined to be Yin and Yang 

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story. 

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here. 

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

Standing alone in my bedroom, I grabbed a change of clothes then wrapped them in a towel and tucked it under my arm before I grabbed the handle of the bucket next to my bed. As I opened the door, I was surprised to find Zuko with his hand posed to knock on my door. His face reflected my shock as he looked at me with my supplies.

“Zuko?”

“Where--” Zuko said at the same time as I spoke his name. I closed my mouth as I looked at the Prince standing before me in his Agni Kai attire. It was an impossible task to keep my eyes trained on the golden eyes looking at me when Zuko was standing there wearing only two armbands, pants, and shoes.

Don’t you have someone back home dear Prince? My heart scolded my brain as the thought crossed my mind. 

“Where are you going?” Zuko’s question helped to focus my attention on the task at hand. I cleared my throat before I held up my supplies for the Prince to see.

“I’m not going to bed after sweating this much and not taking a bath.” My words were light as I moved to lower the bucket, but Zuko gently grabbed the bucket from me. My eyes widened in embarrassment as my cheeks grew red. “Hey, that’s my bucket.”

“I know.” Zuko’s cheeks were red as he turned to walk away. “Let me prepare the water for you. The water buckets are heavy to carry.” My heart clenched in my chest as the warmth spread from my cheeks to my ears.

“I am capable of doing--”

“I know,” Zuko interrupted me as he started to walk away from me. “Just let me do this for you.”

This feels wrong. I didn’t get to stop Zuko as he walked away. There was a battle raging within between my head and my heart. I wanted to respect it if Zuko had someone waiting for him to return from the banishment, but the way Zuko was acting was confusing. I knew the Prince was a man whose honor meant the world to him. Sighing, I began the walk to the bathroom, and I leaned against the doorway as I watched the Prince dump one last bucket of water into the wooden tub. He looked up at me with bewilderment as he noticed my presence. His cheeks were red as he set the bucket down.

“Thank you, Prince--”

“Zuko.” He looked down as he interrupted me. “Just call me Zuko, and it was nothing.” The Prince lightly moved me out of the way as he left the room.

Is it just nothing? I thought to myself as I bathed in the perfectly hot water. Am I just wanting to believe there’s more?

I dressed quickly after my bath and felt a hundred times better as I walked back to my room, but I paused as I noticed a note taped to my door. Gently detaching it from its place, I opened it to find one sentence written in neat handwriting.

Meet me on the rooftop. -Z

My heart raced as I read the words again to make sure I understood what was written. I ran a brush through my hair and quickly braided it into two side braids, and the bangs I had fell out of the braids in rebellion. I left my clothes in a small pile on the chair before I went to meet Zuko.

Climbing up the ladder, I was surprised to find Zuko sitting down with a blanket over his shoulders. His back was facing toward me and I couldn’t see much else until I walked closer. He turned to look at me as he held up a dark object that went limp--a blanket. I didn’t fight the soft smile as I grabbed the blanket from him.

“Thank you.” Sitting down, I wrapped the blankets around my shoulders. As I settled into my spot, Zuko offered me a cup of tea. Grabbing the cup, I noticed that Zuko had found a slightly flatten part of the roof to perch a small tea tray on. The sweet smell of jasmine tea teased my nose as I brought the cup to my lips. I smiled from the scent of the tea as I looked at Zuko as he took a sip of tea from the cup in his hands.

“Did you really mean what you said?” Zuko’s quiet voice made the smile slowly fade from my lips. “After the Agni Kai.” Zuko stared at the cup of tea in his hands before he shifted his intense gaze to me. My breath caught in my chest as I tried not to be captivated by him. 

He’s got a General’s girl back home…right? I forced myself to take rhythmic breaths as I nodded. Zuko’s eyes stared at me as his gaze looked over my appearance. Before I could register the movement, the Prince reached out and lightly ghosted over the end of my braid closest to him. I felt a rush of chills across my body as goosebumps raced down my arms.

“I’ve never seen your hair like that.” His cheeks were slightly tinted in the dim light of the moon. “It looks good like that.”

“What are you doing?” The question left my mouth the second it came to my head as my heart raced with anxiety. My heart just couldn’t take it anymore. Zuko’s lips pulled down slightly as my eyes gave away that something was bothering me.

“I’m giving you a compliment.” Zuko slowly said as he looked away for a second. “What’s wrong?”

Too many questions. I bit the inside of my cheek and looked down before I let the words roll off my tongue.

“There’s a lot of things wrong.” Zuko’s eyebrows furrowed as hurt flashed in his eyes, but I continued to speak. “But the biggest thing that’s bothering me is you.” I put my hand up to stop Zuko from talking.

If I didn’t say it now then I’ll never have the courage again.

“You say horrible things to me that make me feel like I’m a burden or thorn in your side while there are times you say things that sound like you care.” I swallowed to moisten my dry mouth. “The other day you said something about marrying a General’s daughter, but tonight you’re drawing my bath water. Do you know what that does to a person’s feelings?” Taking a deep breath, I continued. “Zuko, I need you to answer one question for me.”

“What do you need to know?” His voice sounded like he was trying to hide how my words made him feel, but his golden orbs gave away the way my words made him feel. My heart was beating so fast that it was threatening to stop as adrenaline fueled my audacity.

“Do you have someone waiting for you back home?” Zuko looked shocked by the bluntness of my next words. “You said something the other day about your father arranging you to marry a General’s daughter, so I just need to know if someone else is waiting for you.” The silence that followed was almost enough to make me pass out, but Zuko’s laughter brought my attention back to him. I felt the tears threatening to pool in my eyes as I went to stand up, but Zuko’s words stopped me.

“No.” He said in a bitter voice before he looked down at his shoes. “Do you have someone waiting for you?”

“No.” I let out a light laugh. “I had the weight of the whole village looming over me, so I wasn’t too interested in dating back home.” I made the mistake of looking at Zuko, who was staring at me with an intense emotion in his eyes. Silence greeted the air between us as I felt a knot in my throat.

“Can I say something too?” Zuko’s question piqued my curiosity, so I nodded. “You’re a problem for me too.”

Now I know how much it hurts to hear that. 

“At first, I thought you were a test from my father to see if I wanted to find the Avatar. A distraction from the mission, or a test of some kind.” A bitter laugh left the young Firebender’s lips as he continued. “It didn’t help that you didn’t act like someone with a mission should act--you cooked, cleaned, laughed, and smiled. I thought you were irresponsible and irrational. At first, it bothered me, I complained about it.” I looked down briefly before looking back up at him as he continued. “Then I found out how much I missed it when you weren’t around.” His soft words drew all of my attention as my heart raced in my chest.

“I missed your wittiness, your laugh,” He looked away briefly before he continued. “I was angry when I realized that.”

“Why?” I asked as confusion danced across my features, but Zuko closed his eyes and sighed

“I feared the pain of my father declaring that you were just that—a test.” He slowly opened his eyes to look at me, and I forgot how to breathe for a brief moment. “That once he realized I had feelings for you, he’d take it away and arrange someone else for me to marry.” He let out a sad laugh. “He’s cruel like that, so I tried to put a barrier between us.”

“Then I watched when Zhao hit you--” He took a sip of his tea before he continued. “--I hated the disrespect Zhao had for you. You are to be my bride, and any disrespect towards you is disrespect towards me.” My heart paused as the world seemed to go quiet around us as Zuko dropped the level of his voice. 

“Zuko--” I said before the prince finished his cup of tea and changed the subject.

“It’s getting late.” He stood up before he offered his hands to help me up. “I fear I needed to tell you something tonight.” I took his offered hands, but he hesitated to let go of my hands as he held my attention. “I will honor my agreement to marry you once we return with the Avatar.” Zuko let go of my hands, but I reached up to gently touch the left side of his face.

“I promise to aid in regaining your honor.” I gave him a soft smile, but I was surprised as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my lips. He pulled back and turned away from me. “Come on, Princess,” He teased as he smiled at me. “We must rest if we are to find the Avatar.”

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @junieshohoho @0kauy @coolgirl458 @hypnoticbeing @angelruinz @preeyansha @playboygeniusphilanthropist @ssonniiu @chi-ara @stell404 @kyo-kyo1 @hagridshaircare @herondale-lightworm @simonsbluee @nadlx33333 @nerdisthenewcool @jewelsrules

[ai-satin-chic]

The A-Z of AI-Satin-Chic

What is AI-Satin-Chic?

Well, I started this blog because I just wanted to share pictures which I thought were too good to lose.

I realised I didn't feel I could find images like these anywhere else. Images of beauty, where my eyes didn't know where to look next. I wanted positive images, where anyone could look at it and dream about being in that world.. even if it's just for a moment.

At time of writing, the blog has ballooned to over 1,000 posts, and I felt it was a good time to summarize to anyone new what the blog was about. So here it is. The A-Z of AI-Satin-Chic. Due to restrictions on Tumblr, I can only post these as text links. The full list is also available on DeviantArt to anyone who "watches" me there.

Previous "Escape Room" pinned blog.

Animated music video (YouTube) I Find Truth.

AI Challenge leaderboard here.

A: Alice Band

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749164337734746112/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

B: Ball Gown

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749164578290745344/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

C: Corset

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749165957757435904/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

D: Dressing Up

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749180792398364672/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

E: Elegance

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749181294037057536/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

F: Femininity

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749182651045380096/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

G: Garter Belt

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749220230780403712/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

H: Heels

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749255009103986688/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

I: Iridescence

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749256813369851904/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

J: Jewellery

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749258089436463104/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

K: Knife Pleats

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749267347735478272/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

L: Lace

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749274268381134848/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

M: Maid

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749288960514277376/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

N: Nightdress

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749293747907510272/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

O: Organza

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749348307727499264/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

P: Petticoats

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749354437893652480/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

Q: Queen

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749392717110444032/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

R: Ruffles

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749394328046157824/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

S: Stockings

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749466804356808704/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

T: Train

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749482790017482752/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

U: Uniform

V: Veil

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749716828779151360/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

W: Wedding Dress

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749766364355608576/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

X: X/Cross Back

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749799505512349696/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

Y: Yellow

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749810156646318080/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

Z: Zest

https://www.tumblr.com/ai-satin-chic/749850530611953664/the-a-z-of-ai-satin-chic?source=share

[magnumboosttime]

Strapless Bikini Series No.34 - Mariya Nagao (Yui Mabuchi) from Build New World: Kamen Rider Cross-Z

[rotting-ink]

This ask is a bit different from the “wanting kids” one. What about a surprise pregnancy for the ROs? (For the ones who can’t, let’s say magic was involved).

~ 🦇

L Rawlins: Quietly over the moon. Wants your confirmation that you wanna keep it before allowing them to grow attached to the tiny bump. Talks to it, cares for you, protectiveness goes up a thousand percent more. Loves them already so so much. Does get out their own kid's old stuff and dusts it off and is quietly so excited. You can tell by their tail in wolf form and by their pleased little smile in human form.

S Della Rovere- ASTOUNDED. "babe, im dead. not supposed to have any working bits." also scared shitless. they're not built for taking care of tiny things like a baby. Needs a pep talk and then they're in. Starts immediately baby proofing a section of the manor. "Babe, they get three whole rooms to tumble around in, i refuse to alter our horny rooms."

Z Chambers- Horrified. "But... What will it be? I'm a reaper, i'm a specter... What if it comes out as some sort of ghoul?" Demands excessive checks on it from Starling before they relax. Yes, it has a heartbeat, yes, it's growing well. Yes, Starling doesn't think that it's some sort of undead abomination. Then they're in awe. Whispers to it. So happy.

V De Winters- Terrified. Will not listen to you. Starts setting up a new apartment for you to stay in, close to their home, organises private doctor visits, lots of baby clothes but you won't see a lot of them. They're too busy. You need to flag them down and sit by them and hold them. You need to confirm that you'll be okay, the child is okay, and they'll be okay. V will have to cry a lot for a while and then they suit up. Quietly pleased. Gets to set up an account just for baby money so you can spend things on the lil one too.

Seir-"... Ehe." Smug. You're riddled with their demon spawn and they cannot WAIT for the thing to pop out and help bring around the end of the world bit by bit. But for now, they're curled up like a happy cat around you, purring away and nuzzling at you in their human form.

Saleos- Oh fuck yeah, their dominion needed an heir. Pampers you, treating you with a decree of pleased adoration. Their spawn is on the way, you're an excellent parent to share your genetics with it, their dominion is safe, Seir is seething and they get to bind you forever to them. Wonderful.

Starling Knight- Another grey hair sprouts. Head in hands. Does asks you what you want to do. Then they take a shot of whiskey and gets to work. Flatly cuts half their time at whichever of their jobs pays worse, so they can start prepping their tiny house, or prepping your cottage. Fine with splitting their time between their own house and yours, unless you want to move in together. Works out what you gotta be eating and your resting time. Becomes a helicopter parent early but only for the pregnancy. Is soft tho. You can see it in the way they quietly makes plans for you three to visit Egypt for a long while as they fully believe their childhood was made better for being there. That and getting out some of their old childhood things.

A Lancaster- Worried. They're in the hunter, they're not supposed to have kids or long standing romances, etc. Would either quit the hunters or pay for you to follow them back to head quarters and sequester you in the city. But if you lean on them, they'd quit and stay in South Hollow with you. They become saddened but after a week or two, they snap into parental mode, throwing them into this new life long endeavor to look after you and their child.

E Rawlins- INSANELY HAPPY. RUNS IN A CIRCLE AROUND YOU, PANTING AND WIGGLING. SO EXICTED. Finally would let L back in their life full time, they're not afraid of you being stolen away. Waits on you hand and foot, already so excited. Also hornier than ever.

Quincy Beaumont- Struck dumb for a moment. "... R... Really? Huh." Shocked, didn't think they'd be able to have kids. Is at a cross roads. They want to still do their work but the tour would take them away from you. Wants you to move to Kaer Llundain, they prefer the city and they have a larger home there! Also, needs an actual support system as they dont believe they won't be a good parent. If you insist on staying in South Hollow, they'd struggle a bit more. Needs a lot of talks between you two. But reassures you of them staying with you by coming by, holding very pretty little baby outfits to give you to you.

D Woolf- Might pass out. Are you kidding them? They... They.... They... They need a long sit down. A tea. No, a coffee. No, a brandy. No, a hug. They will need a long moment, head in hands. They're happy! Just stunned! Can they be a parent? A good parent? What do they do? Needs to go to A and Z and Starling and ask for tips, fidgeting all the way. Does start getting books they want to start reading to the tiny bump that is the baby already. They're never too young to hear about Heidi! He loves Heidi. Does reread Der Struwwelpeter, decides its way too scary for your baby bump and hides it away. Seir fuckin finds it so cool though.

[joking-suggestions]

Albedo A-Z Fluff Alphabet

prompt list by @/imagineimagineimagine

!!! : gn reader. might be present grammar mistakes. i apologise, since english is not my first language.

I just love this man too much, I have to create my own headcanons because consuming his media online is not enough-

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about their partner? Physically and Mentally)

I think that Albedo is not a person who pays much attention to physical appearance, for him it would be something that would be secondary and would only get added value if he was already taken with someone, as we've already seen in the game (in fact, he tells us more than once that he likes intelligent people). Albedo values mentality, so he'd be particularly attracted to someone who's open-minded, smart, even better if they can play along with his mindset, and whom he can have complex and profound conversations with, someone who can offer him new points of view, inspire and stimulate him, not only in his work, but also in his daily life. Intelligence is what really attracts him, physical appearance comes after. For him beauty is all a matter of attitude.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

I don't think Albedo ever thought about starting his own family before he had a romantic partner, he's just too busy with his job that he wouldn't have the time to dedicate to it properly. and Albedo already has Klee, who's like a little sister to him, therefore a family to dedicate his attention and care to since she's a young child. however, after finding a partner, i don't deny that the thought of starting something of his own with them would cross his mind at least once, but it would just be a sterile thought, imagining a concept that is impossible. Because of his non-human nature, Albedo is unable to procreate. He is aware that it's not his fault, because he knows that it wasn't him who decided how to give birth, but sometimes he can't help but feel a little guilty, especially in the case his s/o particularly wanted to have a child. if his partner doesn't want children, so much the better (after all, he'd be the first to know that there's no traditional way to have a family... if we look closely at his family tree, lol). He just wishes to have the person he loves by his side to be happy, and Klee, of course. After all, being a family means being good together and being able to rely on each other without anyone being left behind, regardless of blood ties, right?

C = Cuddle (How do they like to cuddle?)

for him, cuddling with his s/o would be a way to regenerate and relax after a long, stressful day. it'd be a sweet moment, a little blurred by sleep and tiredness, but very deep and intimate. some evenings he might seem more sensual than others (and so getting carried even further than that). albedo likes to rest his head on his partner's shoulder or chest, as if seeking comfort or protection from them. he would give gentle kisses wherever his lips could land, play with his partner's hair, lose himself in the scent of their skin and clothes, often collapsing in their arms (he looks so adorable istg).

D = Dreams (How do they picture their future with their S/O?)

whatever his partner desires, so does him. First and foremost, Albedo wants to make the other person happy, to be able to live carefree and at peace by their side, to discover new things together, to explore the world together, to experience new adventures by each other's side.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

For Albedo, his partner would be his muse, his source of inspiration, his safe haven, his home, his certainty, what makes reality more beautiful to face.

F = Feelings (When did they know they're in love?)

Albedo noticed almost immediately that he felt different in the presence of this particular person. how shall i put it? he didn't feel the same as usual. he wouldn't even know how to properly explain the strange sensations running through his body, from butterflies in his stomach to his pounding heart. there is something - some kind of force majeure - that draws him to them. he feels the need to be in their company even when they are not present, as they take up most of his time and often distract him from his work. this seemed strange to him already, but other people from the outside also started pointing out that lately, the chief alchemist seemed head over heels in love. when kaeya started teasing him about whether he had fallen in love or not... it was like an epiphany for albedo, like he had discovered something he might have known all along. not only that, but Klee herself asked him if he had feelings for (name), leaving him completely stunned and unable to deny it any longer. at this point, albedo could no longer lie to himself, having searched within himself for as many answers as possible. what seemed impossible to him was actually the irrefutable truth. Love. it had always been there, maybe he really had always known it, but he didn't know if it was right to admit it to himself first, despite his incessant curiosity to explore this new and nameless feeling that did so much good to his heart.

G = Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their S/O does for them?)

of course Albedo is a very grateful person. both to life for putting this person trough his path, and for all the things they do for him; from taking care of him, to listening to him when he ramble on for hours about incomprehensible subjects, to understanding and accepting him for who he is. albedo didn't even believe it was possible that such a person could exist in this world and still love him. of course, he tries his best to show that gratitude because he knows it wouldn't be fair otherwise.

H = Honesty (Do they have secrets they hide from their S/O?)

Albedo is a person full of secrets and we know that very well. however, when he starts to trust someone, he tends to open up more. of course, it is not easy to gain his trust. Albedo is a very selective and in order to open up completely to someone, he has to feel that this person is different from the others. obviously in a relationship he'd feel that it would be only right to let the other person know basic things about himself, because a relationship must be built on mutual trust and honesty, it wouldn't be fair to hide anything from his partner. then slowly (probably already in the friendship stages) albedo would start to open up and reveal more aspects of himself, probably even the darker ones, but only when he's sure that he won't be rejected and that he can trust his other half completely.

I = Injury (How would they react if you got hurt?)

outwardly, albedo would appear calm, placid and logical as usual, but actually, he would be trying to maintain a rational composure in order to react in the best possible way and help his beloved. in reality, inside albedo would be panicking, frozen with the total terror of losing the love of his life. thoughts of all kinds would be running through his mind. luckily, Albedo is good at regulating his emotions and would try to channel them into action in order to defend his beloved from danger and then to help them with love and whatever else they may need. although he would seem to be handling the situation in the best possible way, you would still notice the anxiety through his worried look and the trembling in his voice and hands, at least until he would be completely sure that the danger is gone.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous? How do they deal with it)

albedo is not a person who is prone to jealousy, but if he was, he wouldn't let it show. for example, if his partner were particularly affectionate with someone, i couldn't deny that he'd sometimes feel a gnawing feeling in his stomach. he wouldn't be able to explain it at first, but the thought of being abandoned, or of his favourite person choosing someone else over him, would embitter him. of course, Albedo would still try to maintain his typical rationality, but sometimes you can tell from some of his cold looks and answers that he is actually jealous. however, he would do his best to keep it to himself, and only if the situation became unbearable he'd talk about it. this is because he'd not want to worry his beloved, he has great faith in them and their love.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss you? How do they like to be kissed?)

Albedo's kisses can have different shades: sometimes they are sweet, full of love, the kind that seems pure and can only be found in fairy tales, the ones that express affection and last only a few moments, but still leave you with a sweet warm sensation in your heart. other times (very often, especially when you are alone) they are the slightly sensual kisses that make you feel wanted, that express hunger, love, a slight possessiveness. albedo loves to be kissed on the lips, especially when these kisses make him feel wanted, even if it's just a simple greeting. other kisses he loves to give and receive are those on the neck. if you kiss that diamond mark on his neck? he will be yours forever.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

i think that would depend very much on what kind of person Albedo would find as a partner. before saying something like that, Albedo would want to have some confidence. not that this phrase has no value to him, on the contrary, but he would want to be sure that this phrase is clear and unequivocal. in any case, i think Albedo could very likely be the first to confess.

M = Memory (What’s their favorite memory together?)

for albedo, there would be many beautiful moments to remember, many firsts, many new beginnings; their first meeting, the first time his partner bonded with klee, their first fight during an adventure, their first kiss. for albedo, they would all be things to treasure in his heart, all moments of shared happiness that he would never forget.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

albedo is not a stingy person, but at the same time he is not materialistic. ergo, for him, gifts would not be just material things, like expensive, worthless things bought in some fancy shop just because they are "trendy". of course, he would have no problem giving his s/o gifts, buying them something he saw them looking at so longingly. but for him, the gifts of real value are the moments they spend together, the things he can make with his own hands, because he is an alchemist and an artist. so what he is able to create can not be compared to anything that can be bought with money. if his loved one wants a new dress, Albedo would be able to design and craft it for them. he would draw them a lot and dedicate many of his inventions to them. in this respect, he would certainly shower them with gifts. gifts whose value can not even be determined, so deep is the love that goes into them.

O = On Cloud Nine (What are they like when they're in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?)

i think it is quite obvious when Albedo is in love. first of all, he seems more distracted than usual (this particular person takes up a lot more space in his mind) and for Sucrose and Timeous it would be obvious that something with their master is off, especially because in the presence of this person he'd become much more attentive, he'd talk and smile a lot more. it would be a fact that would not go unnoticed by others. a person who is normally as composed and deeply devoted to his work as albedo suddenly seems to be shaken by something new. then it is really true that love makes people blind! Lisa would like to discuss this matter with Jean and point out to her that, contrary to the grand master's expectations, the boy is not actually ill, but just in love. for Albedo, on the other hand, everything would seem normal, but in reality the people closest to him would be very aware of the novelty - hell, even Klee managed to notice that there was something unusual about her brother! especially because when that person is in the albedo zone, he will look for any excuse to be in their presence, to talk to them, to discuss alchemy with them, to show them his latest drawings or his newest experiments. these are subtle things, but to a loner like albedo, they mean a lot. it means that he feels comfortable in the presence of that person.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

i imagine albedo would use things like "love", "darling" and "honey" a lot. The more corny ones like "sweetheart", "my Cecilia", "my queen/princess or prince/king" would be saved for rarer, special, particularly emotional occasions.

Q = Questions (What are the questions they’re always asking?)

albedo is a person who asks a lot of questions. sometimes he just wants to know his s/o's opinion about something, sometimes he asks deep questions, but most of all he asks a lot of strange things. things that frighten you and make you wonder how the hell they got into his head. after all, what do you expect to find in the head of a genius?

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

usually, when albedo has to work, not even the rain can stop him. however, if he could, he would much rather to stay at home to avoid colds (at least for his partner, considering that he rarely gets sick). it would be an excuse to be together, cuddle under the blankets and watch the rain, and only when the storm has passed they can go out and explore the fruits of the earth's rebirth.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/S/O up?

albedo, contrary to what many people expect, is good at understanding human emotions, even if he is still learning how to manage them. he doesn't usually feel sad very often, unless he is reminded of his master. but he is good at chasing away his sadness by distracting himself with other things, like work and the people who love him. then again, having managed a child for so long, he knows the secrets of cheering people up all the more....although maybe it works differently for adults. in any case, he would have his own strange little ways of offering support to his beloved, offering them ways to talk and let off steam, and then doing all their favourite activities together. albedo would be close to them, affectionate, and he'd even cook them something good to cheer them up. albedo is actually a very caring and supportive boyfriend.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Albedo loves to talk about his experiments, he'd go on for hours about them, and the fact that his partner would be willing to listen to him would only make him fall even more in love. he loves talking a lot about klee too. albedo is the kind of person who is open to everything, with him you could talk about deep, somewhat philosophical things, exploring the meaning of life, of the universe, gradually moving into strange, indefinable, absurd and sometimes even abstract things. he'd be willing to talk about scientific things, sometimes diving into detailed and nerdy explanations about the mechanics of the world. then I like to think there would also be that good dose of gossip because it never hurts. what did kaeya do today to upset albedo, for example? but let's face it, he'd love to talk to his s/o about anything.

U = Understanding (How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

i repeat, albedo is actually a very empathetic and emotionally intelligent person, otherwise he wouldn't be able to deal with children so well. i have no idea why the genshin fandom sees him as an emotionless robot. of course he would get to know his partner inside out and take note of their every trait and mannerism, he'd try to understand them deeply in order to understand and help them. he's the kind of guy who doesn't make you feel lonely, who will stand by you and help you, but who will also give you practical advice on how to deal with a problem and offer his help where it's needed.

V = Value (How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

albedo tends to give the right amount of space to everything in his life: work, family, but also his relationship. especially after finding the love of his life he would try to learn to be more balanced with work as well, to give the right amount of space to the people he loves. each of these things has an important place in his life, but he could not deny that his family and his relationship are probably the two most important values to him.

W = Wedding (When, where, and how do they propose?)

to be honest, albedo would think about it for a while, he would not find marriage absolutely necessary at first, he would be happy just to live together without giving in to social pressure. but once he is convinced, he would certainly make a very deep and emotional proposal. It would happen during a moment of vulnerability, of loneliness between him and his beloved, while they are out walking or having a good time together. he'd have to feel that it is the right moment, that it's the time. i won't even hide the fact that he would feel a little nervous before getting down on one knee. wait, does everything have to be done in the traditional way? at the fateful moment, he would whisper those words, almost as if they were powerful magic. the moment would be intimate and magical in its simplicity. he probably wouldn't propose right away, he would rather wait a few years after starting the relationship, but when he will be sure, he wouldn't back down. the ceremony probably wouldn't even be that big and ostentatious. if anything, something nice and simple where only the closest people could attend, but still romantic and beautiful. a memorable day for everyone. even the chief alchemist got married, crazy, right?

X = XOXO (How affectionate are they? In public/in private)

albedo would find it difficult to let go at first, as everything in a relationship is new to him. How exactly is he supposed to behave? but once he is comfortable, he would certainly become very affectionate. certainly very touch starved, as he has never received enough affection and care in his life. this is especially true in private. outdoor, he'd be more reserved and his displays of affection would be more subtle unless his partner isn't bold enough to be affectionate in public. This would probably make albedo a little uncomfortable at a first (it would also depend on how and how much his s/o is affectionate), but over time he would begin to appreciate and reciprocate, albeit very slowly. you will need to be patient with him.

Y = Yearning (How well do they cope when they're separated from their S/O?)

mainly by keeping busy with work, which helps him distract himself just enough. but in the moments when even that is not enough he dedicates himself to painting his beloved, at least to remember their face and recall the memories they shared by imprinting them on canvas.

Z = Zeal (Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship?)

albedo is a very busy man, so it would depend on the reason behind this distance. but of course he would be willing to do anything for reasons of force majeure. he'd do everything in his power to ensure that this relationship will last.

[northwest-cryptid]

I think we failed self actualization and realization when we decided to make it a public event/public knowledge sort of thing. An expected announcement rather than a nod to who or what we are as a person.

I remember when I first grappled with the mere concept of being trans many of my friends had opinions, thoughts; and comments. When I began to question my sexuality, and gender identity they were treated as things I was expected to share with and prove to the world. No different than if I had got a new job or bought a new car. People expected me to be public about it, or they expected to be able to see some kind of change in me.

If someone found out I was trans it was: "You're not trans you look no different?" If they found out I was pan it was: "You're still dating a woman though?" Or sometimes: "Have you even fucked a guy yet? Pre-Op trans men don't count." When my ex heard I was questioning genderfluidity and asexuality it was both: "So what, are you going to start cross-dressing now?" "So you think I'm ugly? We can't have sex anymore is that it?"

^ All of these things demand an action to be associated with self realization, and are all actual real things I've heard and been told/asked. I'm not a real trans unless I'm on HRT, I'm not really gay if I've not fucked a cis man or if I'm still dating a woman. If I'm gendefluid I obviously will start cross-dressing and if I'm ace we'll never fuck again.

I feel like, generally speaking; the majority of young people experiencing queer identity have this demand for action placed on them by others. They then internalize that, because if someone else is accepted for being trans without having to be on HRT, or without having to present differently; well that's not fair. You were hurt, you were belittled, you were shamed and accused; and what, this random nobody gets off scot-free?! Well no you don't want to attack a fellow trans person right? But that's why it's easy to convince yourself they're not really trans, they're not the right kind of trans; they're not the right kind of gay; or queer. Because they're not doing it right, they're not taking the right actions, they're not BEING queer.

Self actualization and realization should be for the self; they should be for you. Not your neighbor, or your partner, not even your friends, and family. There is no action you can take that is actually necessary to being any of these things. You are what and who you are, and you are the only person on this planet who can decide or change that. However I understand that the general popular vote being against you because you won't/don't do X, Y, and Z can make it difficult.

[itsjustmyunpopularopinion]

IT'S BEEN SIX YEARS, BUT EVOLTO'S MAKIN' GOOD ON THAT PROMISE MADE AT THE END OF BUILD NEW WORLD: KAMEN RIDER CROSS-Z