#*robot puts on a hat*

[xxturbotastich3llxx]

SUAGR RUSH THEMED MAGMA I DID WITH MY AWESOME BESTIES!1!1!1!1!

I need to explode all of ur guys goobers/pos

Credit for most of the doodles goes to: @how-to-humaning-401 @mothhue @t052ther0b0t and @milk-box-16 (my awesome swagger besties whose art is really cool and scrumptious)

(Also here's my main because I normally post stuff like this there: @witch-sweets)

[acceleracers-baby]

This is the dumbest thing I've ever made…

[hattiestgal]

hypothetically

could bubblgum run doom

Of course she can! We must respect our roots, and DOOM was an extremely important part of that! In fact, it was one of the first things we saw if we could run on our basic line of machines. You can even find the game hard coded into the BIOS of some older machines.

You can also expect to play a myriad of other games including the most recent hits on the scene (with modern models, not all systems apply) using one of our personal favorite addons BUBBLGUM is demonstrating today, the PLAY controller arm module! A bundled cord on the inside of the module allows the controller to extend away from your machine by ~5 feet, allowing for play from a reasonable distance away!

[diltonsstrangescience]

A moment of appreciation, please, for these unreasonably adorable evil lackeys.

[adracat]

k but look at my robot tho

Tumblr Top Ships Bracket - FINALS

This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

[wabblebees]

.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

One of the mind-only fics I’ve had rolling around in my head is kinda similar to the Strays AU, but whatever, might as well.

Reader is Akainu’s kid and by some series of misadventures ends up being collected by Whitebeard. Kinda shifts between whether the Reader is a marine like their dad wants them to be, or if they ran away because they don’t like their dad. I typically imagine them as an older teenager, but I guess it doesn’t matter.

Maybe a bit much on detail, but if they ran away, Akainu reports them as missing, either because he won’t publicly admit that his child ran away, or he’s delusional and doesn’t realize how much they hate him, so marines are actively searching for them and when they show up with Whitebeard people think that the pirates kidnapped them, (which may or may not be true, not like the old man wouldn’t).

Breaking Point

Next

Whitebeard Pirates x Teen GN Reader

4.6k words

Summary: An espionage mission gives you the perfect cover to get away from your Admiral father and the life he forced you into. Everything seems to be going according to plan until some pirates corner you.

Warnings: unhealthy parent-child relationship, akainu being akainu, reader being in a terrible mental state, hopelessness, suicide attempt, blood, drugging

I did tweak the prompt a little bit, so I hope you don't mind. I also hope you aren't opposed to darker themes. If it bothers you, I'll write an alternate version of the scene where the reader snaps.

Clothes? Check. First aid kit? Check. Matches and firestarter? Check. Food and water? Check. Hygiene supplies? Check. Emergency shelter? Check. Money? Check.

Looks like you’re all set. After settling your hat into your head and pulling the bill down over your eyes as you always do, you steel your resolve for what is to come.

With your backpack slung over your shoulder, you march out of the barracks so you can begin your mission. At least, that’s what everyone thinks you’re doing. You’ll let them keep believing that.

A sharp call of your name brings you to a halt, and you instinctively stand at attention. The empty halls allow for the sound of his footsteps to echo all around you. It’s debatable which is louder. The Admiral’s footsteps, or your own heartbeat. 

Akainu comes to a stop in front of you, glowering down at your form. His piercing eyes scrutinize your appearance. Instead of your usual uniform, you’re in civilian clothing for the mission. Spying in a Marine’s uniform would obviously not go well.

“At ease.” You robotically relax your posture at his command. “I trust that you don’t need any further briefing on your mission?”

“No, sir.” Despite the man in front of you being your biological father, this is the only way you referred to him. Both in and out of work. “I understand the assignment in full.”

“As you should. I expect you to come back with results.”

“I will, sir.”

The Admiral stares at you a moment longer, then nods sharply, “You are dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” With that, you take your leave, stepping down the halls of the base to leave. Just as you’re about to pass the threshold, you hear your name spoken again.

Akainu’s expression is as terse as ever as he stares a hole into you. He then sighs and turns away, “Don’t disappoint me.”

Of course those are his last words to you. Resentment twists inside you like a knife. Fuck this. You can��t wait to never have to see this bastard’s face again. You don’t respond to him, and you know that he doesn’t expect you to.

You hurry out of the base, eager to leave. The swinging doors are thrown open unceremoniously in your rush to put as much distance between you and Akainu as possible.

"Oh? Were you planning on leaving without saying bye to me? I'm hurt." Slowly drawled out words greet your ears, bringing you to a halt and making you whip around.

"Uncle!" A rare smile sneaks across your face, "I thought you were still away on a mission."

"I was. I got back a little bit ago. Just in time, too" Kizaru pushes his lanky body away from the wall he was leaning against and meanders over to you. His hand reaches out and flicks your hat off before gently rustling your hair. If anyone else did this, you would break their arm for the audacity, but you make an exception for him.

If he could indulge you by allowing you to refer to him as Uncle after what was initially just a little slip up thanks to hearing Sentomaru say it so many times, then you could tolerate the mussing of your hair. Just tolerate. You totally weren't enjoying the attention or anything like that.

"So, what is this mission of yours? I heard that you were going to be spying on Red Haired Shanks, but that can't be right."

You shake your head, "That is right. They wanted to send someone that he would be less likely to recognize if he spots."

Kizaru withdraws his hand and sighs in a drawn out fashion, "You don't sound very concerned. You do know that's an Emperor, yes?"

"I know that," you grumble and roll your eyes at his lack of faith in you. "I'm going to be careful. I promise you, he'll never even see me." If only he knew just how true that was going to be. Shanks would never see you. Nor would his crew. Or anyone in his general area, for that matter.

The Admiral stares at you, and you squirm ever so slightly under his gaze. There was no way for him to know what you were up to, but that didn't stop the irrational fear from taking root regardless.

Finally, mercifully, he breaks eye contact and looks away with another beleaguered sigh. "I hope you're right." Kizaru ducks down to pluck your fallen hat off the ground. He dusts it off and drops it onto your head. It's noticeably crooked. You figure that he did it on purpose. "Will you promise your uncle something?"

"Of course." The response is almost instinctual.

"Come back if it starts to get risky. That mission isn't worth losing your life over."

His concern for your safety creates a conflicting storm of warmth and guilt within you. Returning to the Marines was out of the question, but you obviously couldn't say as much. Instead, you do what any rational soon-to-be traitor would do under your circumstances. Lie.

"I'll leave as soon as it gets dangerous, I promise." It's a half truth. Yeah, you'll never be anywhere near Shanks, but you will be leaving danger in a sense.

"Alright." Kizaru pats your head, "Take care of yourself, (Y/N)."

"I will. Goodbye, Uncle." You turn your back to him and fix your hat. "Tell Sentomaru I said bye."

A hum of acknowledgement is all you get in response from Kizaru. There's a 50/50 chance that it'll slip his mind until much later, but what can you do? That's just how he is. You'll miss him and Sentomaru when you're gone.

But that's neither here nor there. You need to leave before Akainu notices that you're still here and lollygagging. You stride toward the docks where a privateer vessel is waiting for you. It was a small, inboard paddlewheeler with an enclosed helm that doubled as a sleeping quarters. A nice ship. Shame you’re going to have to ditch it soon.

“(Y/N)!” There was a call of your name yet again. The imposing figure of one of the men under your command is looming over your ship. He's too big to be getting on it, so he's left standing on the dock near it and tossing some boxes of provisions to someone on the boat. He turns to you with a broad smile across his scarred face. "We've got 'er ready for you!"

A wisp of a smile graces your typically stern features, “Thanks, Sven. I appreciate it.”

The person that had been in the helm squeezes out of the door and joins you two on the dock. Nesca may be on the short side for a fishman, but she's still a couple heads taller than you. The modified dorsal fin sprouting from her head that anglerfish were named after bounces and sways as she makes the jump.

She flashes you a smile filled with needle like teeth and winks, "I snuck some extra snacks in for you with the rest of that stuff."

"Nesca, they're going to notice that when they take inventory later."

"So what? What are they going to do? Fire me for making sure you don't starve while on your mission?" As expected, she was entirely unbothered by the threat of disciplinary action. She was the type to go with the flow of things regardless of where exactly that flow took her. She couldn't care less if it gets her in trouble.

Sven lets out a bellowing laugh, "Besides, we both did it, so they're going to have a hard time pinning down who did it!"

"Might not be that hard if you keep yelling it." You roll your eyes and have to make a considerable effort to suppress the smile threatening to show itself again.

"Well, whatever. Nothing that they will do will be as much of a blow to our egos as being held back from joining you on this mission." Sven crosses his muscular arms and scowls at the base in the distance, "They're letting a kid go and stake out an Emperor, but they won't let us, actual adults, tag along to make sure you have support if things get hairy. If that isn't a kick in the teeth, I don't know what is."

"Yeah," Nesca chimes in, "we've been through so much together, but now is when they separate us? Talk about ridiculous."

These two have been under your command since you became a lieutenant. For every achievement and failure you've had in your career, they've been right behind you. Of course, there have been many more people in your units over the years, but these two were among the three that had been consistent through every promotion. The third... he wasn't here anymore.

"They probably don't want to risk Red Haired Shanks becoming suspicious from seeing a trio following him around." That, and neither of these people could exactly be considered conspicuous. Sven was damn near ten feet tall, and Nesca was a fishman. They would absolutely call attention to you if you three were to go on this mission together.

Nesca was less than impressed with the explanation. "I guess that makes some sense, but I still don't get why they're okay with sending you off like some sacrificial lamb. Can your dad seriously not be bothered to give enough of a shit to at least try and pull some strings to get you backup?"

Hearing Akainu getting referred to in such a cozy term of endearment makes you want to reprimand Nesca, but you refrain. You know that she doesn't mean anything by it. Despite her concerns, Akainu's inaction has worked in your favor. Having anyone with you would have been a massive hindrance to your plan.

Another hindrance would be Akainu coming over here if he notices you're still here and not diligently heading toward your destination. You shoulder past your comrades and leap onto the boat, “I’m not a sacrifice. The rank of Commodore wasn’t handed to me, I earned it. I’ve been trained for this for as long as I can remember.”

"I know, I know." Nesca waves her hand dismissively, "We're just looking out for you. You better be careful out there."

Sven easily unties the rope anchoring your boat to the dock and tosses it to you. “Good luck, (Y/N)! I can’t wait to hear about everything when you’re back!”

"I will! You two stay out of trouble while I'm gone!" While you do hope that they'll behave for their sake, that first part was a lie. You won’t be back. Never. You’d rather die than ever set foot on a Marine base again.

—

Several weeks have passed since your departure and covert runaway. At this point, they still believe you to be on assignment, and if everything continues as planned, it should be several months before your absence becomes known. Due to the high risk nature of spying on an Emperor, there would be zero communications until you got back. Sengoku wasn’t willing to risk you being found out if the Red Haired Pirates had a black transponder snail on them. Not only would it jeopardize your safety seeing as that you were alone and didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell against an Emperor’s crew, but the discovery would likely make them much harder to tail going forward since they would now know to be wary of this tactic.

Of course, you were nowhere near where that crew had been sighted lurking about. Your end goal was to get out of the Grand Line entirely and start life anew on some remote island where no one would ever think to look for you. Ideally, you would be assumed dead. Killed in action while stalking a predator you had no hopes against. 

If anyone knew you were still alive and just deserted the marines… Well, you’ve seen what Akainu does to people like that, and you aren’t naive enough to think that you’ll get special treatment purely because you’re his child. If anything, that would incentivize him more to make an example out of you. To prove that he would never go easy on anyone.

All in the name of his precious Absolute Justice. 

Currently, your biggest hurdle was the calm belt. Even if you hadn’t ditched- and burned- your original vessel, it would have done little to help you cross it. Sure, the absence of wind and ocean currents wouldn’t have slowed it down, but its wooden structure never would have stood a chance against the dense population of sea kings lurking in the depths of that part of the sea.

What you needed was something sturdy and fast. A high powered engine in a preferably metal boat that could take a few hits if need be. On top of that, you needed some weapons to assist you in fending off the beasts. As powerful as you were, even you could only do so much against the likes of such a creature.

Despite all of the risks, you feel relatively confident in your plan. All that you need to do is make it at least halfway through. After that, you think you’ll be able to fly the rest of the way out or at least island hop to the North Blue. Of course, you being a zoan devil fruit user came with risks, but hopefully the fear of drowning if your wings grow too tired will motivate you to persevere through exhaustion.

As long as you can pull this off, and do so without calling attention to yourself, you’ll finally have the freedom you’ve yearned after for so long. It’s so close that you can taste it.

“Commodore (Y/N)! Fancy seeing you here.”

W h a t ?

Once hot blood runs cold as ice through your veins. Who the fuck said that? You slowly turn your head to look over your shoulder to see who just recognized you. This could ruin everything. You can’t risk a sighting. You’ll have to kill whoever saw you.

“Whoa! If looks could kill, I don’t think I’d survive that one!” The man laughs and jumps down from the rooftop he’d been perched upon. Oh, fuck. That’s Fire Fist Ace. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

Another person drops down in front of you, prompting you to whip your head back around only to see Marco the Phoenix blocking the other exit to this alleyway. Oh, this couldn’t get any worse! What’s next?! Is fucking Whitebeard himself going to appear, too?!

More Whitebeard Pirates filter into the alley, but Ace and Marco appear to be the only Division Commanders here. Your hands clench into fists at your sides, “What the fuck do you want from me?”

Marco holds up his hands in a placating manner, though it’s anything but. “Nothing much,” he steps closer, “I promise that none of us want to hurt you, but we’re in a bit of a bind.”

“And? How’s that my problem?”

“We need to pick up some medicine for our pops, but the only island that has enough of it right now has a Marine base on it. This medicine is really important, we can’t risk it getting destroyed in an attack, so that’s where you come in. In order to guarantee its safety, we’ll let them know that we have an Admiral’s kid in our custody, and that you won’t be released unless we get what we need.” Marco smirks, “Now are you going to make this easy or difficult? Because I can promise you, you’re coming with us whether you like it or not.”

No. No, no, no, no, no, no! This isn’t happening! This can’t be fucking happening! You were so close, and now everything is going to be ruined because of some fucking pirates! Your hands are shaking- no, your whole body is! Your heart is pounding, adrenaline is spiking, your nerves are on fire. No. You aren’t about to give up and let them take you and ruin your life.

“No… you can’t do this to me.” You shake your head and meet Marco’s lax eyes, “I won’t let you!”

In a split second, your arms transform into wings, and you shoot yourself up into the air. Your legs turn next, shifting into clawed talons that you use to send an attack at Fire Fist and the people clustered around him. Everyone but him dives out of the way as the strike slashes through the cobblestones and walls. Ace tanks the hit directly, but all it does is go right through the logia devil fruit user.

“Not bad, but you’re going to need to do better than that to actually hurt me!” Ace erupts into a column of flames and directs it right at you. Just what you wanted. You flap your wings hard, blasting the fire right back at him- but more importantly- the people around him. They all scream as their clothes catch to fire, making Ace immediately panic and focus on them rather than you.

Not wanting to waste a single precious second, you take off, cutting through the air with remarkable speed. That much is to be expected of someone with the Tori Tori no Mi Model: Peregrine Falcon. As one of the fastest animals on the planet, your speed was generally unmatched. Kizaru was the only person that could ever really challenge you in terms of speed. Escaping these pirates should be a breeze.

“You’re pretty good! I wouldn’t expect anything less from an Admiral’s kid!” The voice of Marco comes from above.

You look up just in time to dodge him swooping down to try and grab you. Fuck, he’s fast! It’s time to engage in some real evasive maneuvers. You rip off your backpack and chuck it at him, then shift into your full beast form.

With your body shrunk down to the size of the bird your devil fruit is modeled after, taking the backpack with you would be impossible. You’ll have to come back for it later, or maybe not at all depending on how poorly this goes. 

In your true form, you’re able to take full advantage of the speed the peregrine falcon is known for. Buildings all meld into a blur as you rocket through and around them. A family shrieks as you speed through one open window and out the other, then you’re weaving through lines upon lines of laundry, and next you’re in an open market.

As quickly as you shot off, you stop and slip under a table, the cloth on it easily concealing your presence. Your heart is pounding and you’re panting hard as you wait in silence. The tablecloth doesn’t get ripped off by your pursuer or anyone else, so you’re cautiously optimistic that you succeeded in losing him. Now you just had to figure out how to get out of here without being spotted again. All of those pirates saw what you look like in all of your forms, which was going to be a major problem. The second you leave this sanctuary, you’re going to be at risk.

There isn’t a clear, easy option. You’re just going to have to take a gamble and hope that your beast form will be unassuming enough to not catch their eyes again. You peek under the tablecloth to see if any of the Whitebeard Pirates are lurking nearby. It doesn’t look like any of them are here.

Okay, here goes nothing. You fly out from your hiding spot and high into the air at what should look like a normal speed for a bird. Flying as fast as you can would just draw attention to you. So long as you look like a normal bird at a glance, you should be able to get away unnoticed.

“There you are.”

Before you can even blink, a taloned foot closes around your small form. You squawk in surprise, then immediately shift into a half-bird form to try and break Marco’s hold. Something cold snaps around your wrist, and all of your energy is sapped away in an instant, right along with your powers.

Sea stone cuffs. They came prepared. You fall through the air, but only briefly before Marco catches you. He lands hard on a rooftop, but remains upright and doesn’t drop you. He grins, but his eyes have an odd gleam to them that you don’t recognize, “You’re good. I didn’t think they still made Marines like you anymore.” Why is he complimenting you? Freak.

You start to struggle in his hold, but he’s faster than you and locks the other cuff around your free hand. Now you’re completely at their mercy. This is awful. This is a worst case scenario.

“Now then, let’s get you back to the ship.”

—

The journey from the small seaside town to the Whitebeards’ ship was lost on you. You weren’t processing any of it. As soon as reality sank in, you went completely numb. Every word said by the pirates bounced right off you.

They were going to know. You’re nowhere near where Shanks and his crew are. They’re going to know you deserted. He’s going to know you deserted. It’s over. Your life is over. These pirates signed your death certificate as soon as they locked those cuffs on you.

Distantly, you glance at your surroundings. You’re chained to a cot in what looks to be the ship’s infirmary, if all the nurses milling about are anything to go off of. Only one of your hands is cuffed, the other is free again. They aren’t concerned about a devil fruit user being dangerous while sea stone cuffs are eating away at their strength. What a disaster. Years of training, and this is how it ends. How humiliating.

And to make it worse: your hat is gone, leaving your face bare for all to see. Now that you're thinking about it, you probably lost it during the initial chase. You were so consumed with getting away that you can't even recall when exactly it was lost.

Fingers snap in front of your face, and you look up sluggishly at the person disturbing you. Twin Blade Thatch is at your bedside, looking… confused? Sad? This is another expression that you don’t recognize.

He smiles slightly, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, “You okay there, kid?” When you don’t answer, he looks over his shoulder, “Did you give them something?”

“No,” the voice belongs to Marco. “They’ve been out of it since we caught them. They’re… really upset about getting captured, it seems.”

Thatch lightly claps you on the shoulder, “Don’t beat yourself up about it, kid. It’s not like you got caught by a weak crew. There are plenty of Marines well above your rank that wouldn’t have won that fight either.”

“Yeah, you actually gave us some real trouble there at the start.” Ace was in here too, apparently. “Not many people are able to use my own powers against me, that was pretty smart.”

“Before I forget to ask, do you have any allergies? I don’t want to accidentally kill you with my cooking.” Thatch stares at you expectantly, but his smile fades as you neglect to answer his question. “Is that a… no? Come on, I’m just trying to help you out here, you don’t need to be so guarded. I can even make you your favorite meal to make up for the situation we put you in.”

“It doesn’t matter…” Nothing does.

“Don’t say that. We’ve gotta feed you, kid.” That weird expression is on his face again. You wish he’d stop making it at you. “It won’t take long to get the medicine we need. You’ll be back with your old man before you know it.”

No!

“I won’t go back!” Hot tears start to drip down your face, then pour as the last thread of sanity within you snaps, “I’m not going back! You can’t make me go back to that place! To him! I won’t let you!”

Ace is standing close enough that you’re able to lunge at him and rip the dagger from his belt with your free hand. He tries to snatch it back, but your frenzied state gives you the speed you usually only have with your devil fruit’s help. You aren’t going back, you’ll make sure of it! Marco might be able to heal, but he isn’t a necromancer. Even he won’t be able to do anything about a corpse. Dying by your own hands will be better than being burnt alive by the magma Akainu will use on you.

You raise the knife high, then plunge it down at your stomach. A wide, manic grin breaks out across your face in what will be your final moments. You've taken control of your fate. You've won against Akainu. You can die happy knowing that.

Blood splatters all over your torso… but you don’t feel any pain. You blink once, then twice. Your eyes finally focus on the sight in front of you. The knife is stabbed into a hand. It then closes around the hilt and snatches the weapon from your hands. Ace lets out a string of curses as he stumbles back and rips his own dagger from his hand.

All you can do is stare at him. W… What? Why did he do that? That shouldn’t have hurt him. Why would a logia devil fruit user let himself get hurt like that?

Nurses rush toward him, but also you. All of your limbs are pinned down by them. Not that there was any need. The fight had left your body as your mind grew hazy again. You didn’t get it. You couldn’t comprehend what just happened or why.

A prick to your neck snaps you out of it. Your head was being held down, but your eyes flit to the side and see that Marco had a needle pressed into your neck and was injecting you with something. In an instant, a warmth spreads through you, and your body goes completely slack.

Marco heaves a sigh and sets the syringe aside. His hand gently strokes your hair for reasons you couldn’t understand. He speaks softly, “There we go, just calm down. You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

On the other side of the room, Nurses are fretting over Ace’s wound. One even goes so far as to scold him, “What were you thinking? You have logia powers! Why would you let yourself get hurt like this?” Even in your sluggish state, your ears perk at the interrogation. You wanted to know this, too.

Ace looked almost offended by the question. “What do you mean “why”? If I’d let that go through me, it would have gone into them instead. Better my hand, than their guts.”

His answer did nothing but spawn more questions. What did he mean by that? Why would it be better for him to get hurt than for you to die? Your life was of no real significance to him. All that you were was a bargaining chip, and you didn’t even need to be alive for that. They just had to make the Marines believe that you were.

None of this makes sense. What is wrong with these people? You’re an enemy. Your death should be celebrated, not prevented. You don’t get it, and your mind growing more and more foggy by the second isn’t helping.

Your eyes are so heavy. Sleep… Sleep sounds good. Just for a little bit. You’ll figure this out after. It’s not like you’re going anywhere.

[pinkgibbon]

I'm actually soo embarrassed to post this cause idk the first thing about Starlight Express. But I listened to the cast recordings and the characters sounded fun so I wanted to draw what I think they might look like. I saw a few costume photos while researching the show but other than that I wanted to see what I could come up with on my own before I dive any deeper. The last one is Pearl, hope the others are self explanatory. So sorry if I'm like completely off base on these haha, I've never had to anthropomorphize a train before.

YappingDesign notes under cut:

-I actually can't stand Greaseball and making her a butch woman was the only way I’d get myself interested just barely enough to draw her once. Sadly drawing her has created a positive feedback loop which has made me like her. So that backfired.

-Her outfit is nonsense, I took football padding and stapled train parts (Union Pacific's DDA40X) and Elvis shit onto it. I just wanted to put her in something other than a t-shirt for now.

-For CB I kinda wanted to make him look like a trucker but also very cutesy; still trying to strike the correct balance there. I put his handbrake on his chest bc I think it could potentially be a funny visual. Headset for communication (I think those r actually his ears, I just wanted to make them look like headphones. I really should give him a hat...). (Btw I love CB slang so this guy was an instant favorite also I love how he's insane)

-Pearl is blue bc her name is Pearl which reminds me of the sea :) She has window panels on her top. Idk if she should be so robotic since she's not an engine, but since she's new and shiny I wanted her to look futuristic. Also why I gave her a bit of a retro-futurist vibe. Plus a racing suit just for funsies.

-Wanted to give her a girl-next-door vibe cause she's still trying to figure out who she is, but I think she should have a goth phase or something soon.

Okay yay I can go look at costume photos and fanart now. I will come back more educated soon.

[cressidagrey]

The McLaren Matchmaking Disaster

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Sabrina Clarke (Original Character)

Summary:

Sabrina Clarke is sure Oscar Piastri hates her—he either ignores her, runs away, or responds like a malfunctioning robot.. In reality, Oscar has a massive crush… and is the most socially inept man on the planet. Enter Lando Norris, self-proclaimed matchmaking genius, and suddenly, all of McLaren is watching their disaster of a love story unfold. 

Warnings and Notes: 

Happy Race Weekend! To celebrate, here are 10k of socially awkward Oscar 😂 Warnings: Other than Oscar being an idiot and not being very nice...not really? Unless you count Lando being a menace.

(Also it's Lando (Car) because Ken's job is Beach. Get it? 😂)

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Running Tally of Oscar’s Most Awkward Moments Around Sabrina

(Maintained by McLaren Staff, because they are way too invested)

Sabrina: “Morning, Oscar!”Oscar: blinks three times, nods, walks into a doorframe. 

Sabrina sneezed. Oscar panicked and said “Congratulations.”

Sabrina asked if he wanted a snack from the media lounge. Oscar responded with “Thank you, you too.”

Sabrina tripped on a cable. Oscar, trying to help, tripped over the SAME CABLE. They both ended up on the floor.

Sabrina was filming content and asked, “Oscar, do you have a fun fact for the fans?” Oscar: “No.” (And then just walked away.)

Sabrina put a hand on his arm while laughing. Oscar’s brain fully rebooted. Lando had to snap in front of his face to get him to respond.

She handed him a water bottle during a shoot. Instead of taking it, he just… held out his hand next to it like a Sims character waiting for an animation to load.

Sabrina: “Hey, Oscar, can I ask you something?” Oscar: “No.” (Then realized what he said and immediately walked away.)

He got caught staring at her during lunch. When she asked what was up, he picked up a random spoon and said “This is nice.”

Sabrina: “How are you feeling today?” Oscar: “Yes.”

Sabrina: “Do you need anything before the press conference?” Oscar: “Uh… oxygen?”

Lando asked Sabrina to pass Oscar a clipboard. Oscar fumbled it so badly it ricocheted off the table and hit him in the stomach.

Sabrina: “Hey, Oscar, do you have a charger?” Oscar: “I have… no.” (He had one in his hand.)

She asked what he was listening to in his headphones. Oscar blurted out “the national anthem” for no reason.

Sabrina: “Oh, Oscar, you have something on your face.” Oscar, instead of asking where, just froze and stared at her like a deer in headlights until Lando wiped it off for him.

She walked into the room while he was drinking a smoothie. He immediately forgot how to use the straw and inhaled half of it into his lungs.

Oscar was tying his shoes when Sabrina walked by and said, “Hey, Piastri!” Oscar just… stayed crouched on the ground like a gargoyle until she left.

Sabrina: “You look tired, did you sleep well?” Oscar: “No thanks.”

Sabrina: “Oh, I love that hat on you!” Oscar: “You too.” (She wasn’t wearing a hat.)

She waved at him during the drivers’ parade. Oscar waved back but was so distracted he almost fell off the float.

During a McLaren team lunch, she asked, “Oscar, do you want ketchup?” Oscar: “I don’t know.” (?????)

He saw her struggling to carry some equipment and instead of offering to help, he just stood there stress-blinking until Lando stepped in.

Sabrina asked, “How’s your day going?” Oscar: “It’s Tuesday.” (It was Sunday.)

He walked into a doorframe because Sabrina smiled at him.

Sabrina: “Good luck out there!” Oscar, despite knowing how to form sentences, somehow responded with, “Yeah, you too!” (She was not driving.)

During a chaotic debrief, she passed him a pen. He took it, then immediately handed it back to her without using it.

Sabrina complimented his driving. Oscar panicked and said, “Thanks, I try to be fast.” (Oscar. You drive F1. That is the point.)

They accidentally reached for the same energy drink. Oscar let go immediately, then left to get a different one from the other side of the garage, as if the fridge had personally betrayed him.

He tried to be polite and open a door for her. Somehow ended up standing directly in the doorway instead, effectively blocking her path.

Sabrina: “Are you busy later?” Oscar: “Yes.” Sabrina: “Oh, with what?” Oscar: “I don’t know.” (SIR.)

Oscar tried to make a joke during a group conversation with Sabrina. He messed up the punchline, got flustered, and then said, “Never mind,” and fully walked away.

Sabrina: “That was a great race!” Oscar: “Thank you, you too.” (AGAIN, SHE WAS NOT RACING.)

He was standing near the coffee machine when Sabrina approached. Oscar: “Oh, do you want coffee?” Sabrina: “Yeah!” Oscar, despite standing closest to the machine: “Okay, cool,” and then just walked away without making her one.

***

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Oscar would rather face a wet track on slicks than a conversation with Sabrina Clarke. Unfortunately, she was walking straight toward him, all sunshine and good intentions, and he was fresh out of exit strategies.

Oscar should have seen it coming.

He should have known the exact moment he stepped out of the McLaren motorhome that fate would betray him.

Because there, standing directly in his path, was her.

Sabrina, the McLaren Social Media Admin with the sunshine personality and way too much energy at ungodly hours of the morning. Sabrina, who always had a camera in his face and a teasing smile. Sabrina, who made his brain short-circuit every time she so much as said his name.

Sabrina, with sparkling blue eyes and blonde hair and a smile that made him forget everything. 

Sabrina, who Oscar was utterly, hopelessly, embarrassingly into.

Which was a problem, because every time she tried to talk to him, he went completely blank. Like an idiot.

He could already feel his brain preparing to betray him. Sabrina Clarke was too nice, too bright, too pretty, too much—and he was about to be too awkward, again.

Sabrina Clarke had the kind of energy that made people gravitate toward her. Oscar, meanwhile, was actively considering throwing himself into a bush, so he didn’t need to talk to her. 

He didn’t even have time to process it before—

"Oh! Hey, Oscar!"

—brain malfunction.

His heart did something weird. His palms went sweaty. His ability to form words? Gone. Completely erased.

Sabrina was smiling at him, completely oblivious to the fact that he was internally combusting.

Say something, say something, SAY SOMETHING—

"Move."

Sabrina blinked. "What?"

Oscar wanted to die.

"Uh—" he cleared his throat, staring anywhere but at her. "You’re. In the way."

(She wasn’t. Not even a little bit.)

Sabrina’s face immediately dropped. "Oh—sorry?" she said, stepping aside quickly.

Oscar didn’t even acknowledge it. He just walked past her. Like a complete asshole.

It took every ounce of self-control not to physically sprint away.

Behind him, he could hear her mutter, "Okay, what did I even do?" under her breath.

He hated himself.

And then—

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Lando’s voice boomed from behind him, but Oscar refused to stop walking.

Lando, however, had zero intention of letting him get away.

"OI, PIASTRI, GET BACK HERE!"

Oscar sped up.

Lando broke into a jog.

"Why are you like this?!" Lando shouted as he fully started chasing him.

Oscar turned a corner—bad idea. It was a dead end.

Lando caught up in seconds, skidding to a stop, hands on his hips, staring at him like he was some kind of scientific anomaly.

"Dude. WHAT. WAS. THAT."

Oscar, still pretending he had any dignity left, shrugged. "Nothing."

Lando threw his hands in the air. "NOTHING?! You literally just behaved like the biggest arsehole this side of the Atlantic!"

"Lando, leave it."

Lando did not leave it.

Instead, he physically grabbed Oscar by the shoulders. "Okay, I let the last seven incidents slide, but THIS? Mate, you just bulldozed past her like she wasn’t a human being."

"I panicked."

Lando threw his hands up. "Oscar. Mate. Why are you like this?"

Oscar checked his imaginary watch. "Oh wow, look at the time. Gotta go."

Lando stepped in front of him. "Oh no, you don’t. You’re going to explain why every time Sabrina so much as looks at you, you lose all brain function."

Oscar pressed his lips into a thin line.

Lando’s eyes widened. "Wait—OH MY GOD."

Oscar knew exactly when realization hit.

Lando’s face lit up with the force of a thousand light bulbs.

"You LIKE her."

Oscar immediately attempted to escape.

Lando tackled him.

Well—not tackled, but he grabbed Oscar’s arm in a death grip.

"You actually like her. This is golden," Lando cackled, shaking him slightly. "You absolute idiot. Oh, I have to fix this."

"No."

"Yes."

"Lando, I swear—"

"Don’t care, already decided. Operation Get Sabrina and Oscar Together is a go."

Oscar groaned, tilting his head back against the wall. "I hate everything."

Lando clapped a hand on his shoulder. "No, you love Sabrina. And I’m making sure she knows it."

He closed his eyes. Oscar knew—deep in his soul—this was only the beginning of his suffering.

***

Sabrina stormed into the media office, tossing her iPad onto the desk with a dramatic sigh. She spun around in her chair, hands flung into the air.

"He hates me. He HATES me."

Her colleague and friend, Gabby, barely looked up from her laptop. "Who hates you?"

Sabrina let out an exasperated laugh. "Oscar! Piastri! Did you not just see what happened out there?"

Gabby frowned, finally paying attention. "Uh, no? What did he do?"

Sabrina turned in her chair so fast it nearly tipped over. "I was literally just walking to the garage—MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS—and he comes out of nowhere, and tells me to move. Because I am in his way. He makes direct eye contact, glares at me like I personally offended his ancestors, and then just—walks away. No words. Just pure, unfiltered hostility in his eyes."

Gabby blinked. "That’s… weird."

"RIGHT?" Sabrina threw up her hands again. "At this point, I feel like I must've wronged him in some past life. Like, maybe I cut him off in traffic when we were both pigeons or something, because there is no other explanation!"

Gabby let out a short laugh. "I don’t think that’s how reincarnation works."

"Well, something happened, because I have never seen someone so fundamentally allergic to my existence!" Sabrina groaned, dropping her head onto the desk.

"Maybe he’s just awkward?" Gabby suggested.

Sabrina lifted her head, narrowing her eyes. "No. No, he is actively avoiding me. Like I carry some kind of Oscar-specific plague. And today? Today was a new level! He looked pissed off! What did I do?!"

Gabby considered it for a moment before shrugging. "I mean, if he really hated you, he’d probably just be indifferent. Maybe he’s just bad at talking to people he doesn’t know well?"

Sabrina gave him a flat look. "We have worked in the same paddock for over a year. If he wanted to know me, he could just, oh, I don’t know—say words instead of burning a hole through my soul with his death glare!"

Gabby held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, you have a point."

Sabrina groaned again, leaning back in her chair and covering her face with her hands. "God, I swear if I find out I somehow insulted his entire bloodline without realizing it, I’m quitting."

Gabby smirked. "No, you’re not."

"Okay, but I’ll think about it dramatically," Sabrina muttered.

Gabby patted her shoulder. "I believe in you."

Sabrina sighed. "Well, someone has to."

***

Lucy (Engineer): Okay, someone PLEASE explain what just happened with Oscar and Sabrina in the paddock??

Jordan (Marketing): Oh my god, yes. I saw that. What was that???

Matt (Mechanic): He just… bulldozed past her like she was invisible.

Adam (Hospitality): No no, he looked directly at her, said ‘Move’ and WALKED AWAY.

Lucy (Engineer): ???????????????

Adam (Hospitality): I was standing right there. Sabrina just went “What did I even do?” and looked genuinely hurt.

Gabby (Social Media):  She thinks he hates her.

Jordan (Marketing): I mean… fair assumption.

Gabby (Social Media): Is Oscar beefing with our own social media team? Did we post something offensive about him?

Emily (PR): I NEED TO KNOW BECAUSE IF HE IS, THAT IS A NIGHTMARE WAITING TO HAPPEN.

Lando (Car): GUYS

Lando (Car): YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT I JUST DISCOVERED

Jordan (Marketing): Lando, if you’re about to say Oscar hates Sabrina, we already know.

Lando (Car): NO. THAT’S NOT IT. HE LIKES HER.

Matt (Mechanic): Sorry.

Matt (Mechanic): HE WHAT?

Emily (PR): Be so serious right now.

Lando (Car): DEAD SERIOUS. He has a stupid crush on her, and every time she talks to him, he just completely SHORT CIRCUITS.

Emily (PR): So what you’re saying is—he wasn’t just being an asshole for no reason today.

Lando (Car): CORRECT. HE WAS AN ASSHOLE BECAUSE HE IS A SOCIAL DISASTER WITH A CRUSH.

Matt (Mechanic): Wow. That is somehow worse.

Jordan (Marketing): So all those weird, awkward interactions we’ve been tallying up for the last month…

Matt (Mechanic): WERE BECAUSE HE LIKES HER???

Lando (Car): YES. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO FIGURE IT OUT.

Gabby (Social Media): Okay but. Someone has to tell Sabrina this because I think she genuinely believes she has committed a crime against him in a past life.

Jordan (Marketing): Lando. Do something.

Lando (Car): Oh don’t worry. I’m already matchmaking.

***

Oscar Piastri had a massive crush on Sabrina.

Unfortunately, Oscar also had the social skills of a malfunctioning toaster when it came to talking to her. The guy could navigate an F1 car at 200 mph with the precision of a machine, but the second Sabrina so much as looked at him? Catastrophe.

Which was exactly why Lando—being the helpful, selfless friend that he was—decided it was time to intervene.

Sabrina was standing by the McLaren garage, chatting with one of the engineers, her laugh carrying over the hum of activity. Oscar was approaching from the other side, completely oblivious to her presence.

Lando saw an opportunity.

"Oscar, mate," he said, slapping a hand on his shoulder. "Come with me real quick."

Oscar barely had time to react before Lando was steering him directly toward Sabrina.

Oscar immediately stiffened. "Why are we going this way?"

"Because," Lando grinned, "you need to learn how to talk to her like a normal human being."

Oscar immediately started looking for an escape route. "Nope. No. Absolutely not."

But it was too late. They were already there.

"Sabrina!" Lando greeted cheerfully. "Oscar has something to say to you."

Sabrina turned, surprised. "Oh? What’s up, Oscar?"

Oscar’s brain blue-screened.

He stared at her.

Sabrina, smiling, waited for him to speak.

Oscar did not speak.

Lando nudged him, eyebrows raised. Dude, say something.

Oscar’s brain panicked. "I—uh—" He swallowed. "—nothing. It's fine."

Sabrina’s smile faltered. "Oh… okay?"

Lando blinked. "That’s not what you were gonna say, mate."

Oscar refused to make eye contact. "Nope, I’m good. I should—uh—go."

Sabrina’s confusion deepened. "Did I do something?"

Oscar whipped around, eyes wide. "What? No! No, you’re fine. It’s just—uh—" He struggled. "It’s me."

Sabrina hesitated, her expression unreadable. "Right."

Lando watched in horrified fascination as Oscar, now fully committed to fleeing, muttered a quick, "Okay, bye," and walked away.

Just like that.

Sabrina blinked after him. "Did… did he just leave?"

Lando dragged a hand down his face. "Oh my God."

Sabrina turned to him, exhaling sharply. "Lando. Be honest."

"Mm-hmm?"

"Does Oscar hate me?"

Lando choked. "What? No! No, he—" He stopped himself, then groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. "Oh, this is so much worse than I thought."

Sabrina frowned. "I don’t understand. Every time I talk to him, he either ignores me, barely acknowledges me, or runs away."

Lando shook his head. "He doesn’t hate you."

Sabrina crossed her arms. "Then what’s his problem?"

Lando hesitated. Then, exasperated, he muttered, "He has a massive crush on you."

Sabrina laughed out loud. "No, he doesn’t."

Lando threw his hands up. "Sabrina, think about it. He’s fine with literally everyone else, but the second you show up? He turns into an awkward disaster and flees."

Sabrina gave him a deeply skeptical look. "That means he likes me?"

Lando nodded. "He is so down bad, it's pathetic."

Sabrina shook her head. "Or, he just hates me and doesn’t know how to tell me."

Lando groaned. "This is a nightmare."

Sabrina sighed. "Look, Lando, I appreciate the optimism, but from where I’m standing? Oscar Piastri despises me."

Lando desperately needed to fix this.

Instead, he pulled out his phone and opened the McLaren group chat.

***

Lando (Car): I have failed. Sabrina 100% thinks Oscar hates her. This is worse than I imagined.

Gabby (Social Media):  How did you fail?

Lando (Car): I TRIED TO HELP. I walked Oscar right up to her. I gave him the perfect opportunity.

Jordan (Marketing): And??

Lando (Car):  And he stared at her like a deer in headlights, muttered some nonsense, then WALKED AWAY.

Emily (PR): …Like just walked away?

Lando (Car): Just turned and LEFT. Like a weirdo.

Gabby (Social Media):  Oh my god.

Emily (PR): Does he think she’s Medusa or something? Why does he keep acting like she’s about to strike him down?

Matt (Mechanic): At this point, I’d believe it.

Lando (Car):  AND THEN Sabrina ASKED ME IF OSCAR HATES HER.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh no.

Jordan (Marketing): HE WHAT???

Lando (Car): I TRIED to explain but SHE DOESN’T BELIEVE ME.

Jordan (Marketing): I mean… can we blame her??

Lando (Car): GUYS. HE DOESN’T HATE HER. HE LIKES HER. HE LIKES HER SO MUCH IT HURTS TO WATCH.

Matt (Mechanic):  I need receipts. How do you know?

Lando (Car): HAVE YOU SEEN HIM AROUND HER? HE CAN’T FUNCTION.

Jordan (Marketing): I thought maybe he was just awkward in general, but no. He is specifically incapable of speaking to Sabrina.

Emily (PR): This is so embarrassing for him.

Lando (Car): RIGHT?

Gabby (Social Media):  So what do we do?

Lando (Car): FIX IT. We need to get them in a situation where Oscar CAN’T ESCAPE.

Lucy (Engineer): Like what? Lock them in a room?

Lando (Car):  …Not a bad idea.

Lucy (Engineer): HR would not approve.

Lando (Car): Ugh, fine. But we need a Plan B. I REFUSE to let Oscar fumble this forever.

Emily (PR): I’m just fascinated by the fact that Oscar Piastri—who is literally one of the most composed drivers on the grid—completely crumbles in front of Sabrina.

Jordan (Marketing): I KNOW RIGHT.

Matt (Mechanic):  Someone needs to record this for science.

Lando (Car): You guys don’t understand. He’s DOOMED. And she genuinely thinks he LOATHES her.

Lucy (Engineer): This is actually tragic.

Lando (Car): I AM TAKING MATTERS INTO MY OWN HANDS.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh no.

Gabby (Social Media):  This will end in flames.

Jordan (Marketing): Can’t wait.

Lando (Car): Watch and learn, people. 🚨

***

Sabrina slumped into her chair, rubbing her temples like she was nursing the world's worst headache. Across from her, Gabby leaned against the desk, arms crossed, waiting for an explanation.

“So, let me get this straight,” Gabby said slowly. “Lando Norris—who is the human embodiment of chaos—just waltzed up to you and said Oscar Piastri has a crush on you?”

Sabrina groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Yes.”

Gabby blinked. “Oscar Piastri.”

“Yes.”

“The same Oscar Piastri who, just today, physically recoiled when you asked if he needed anything?”

Sabrina let out a hysterical laugh. “YES.”

Gabby whistled. “Wow. You’re right. He definitely has a crush on you.”

Sabrina shot her a glare. “Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

Sabrina threw her hands in the air. “How does that make any sense?! He doesn’t even look at me for more than two seconds. Every time I speak to him, he either ignores me, stares like I’ve just grown a second head, or runs away like I’m carrying the plague.”

Gabby hummed. “Yeah, that does sound like a man with a debilitating crush.”

Sabrina let out another groan and dropped her head onto her desk. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I believed Lando for even a second.”

“Did he at least have evidence?”

“His exact words were: ‘He doesn’t hate you, Sabrina. He likes you. He likes you so much he’s malfunctioning.’”

Gabby snorted. “That sounds like Lando.”

“Right?” Sabrina threw up her hands. “And when I told him Oscar’s actively avoiding me, he just went, ‘No, no, that’s just because he’s awkward and nervous.’ As if that’s supposed to be reassuring!”

Gabby tapped a finger against her chin. “I mean. That does check out.”

Sabrina gaped at her. “You’re insane.”

Gabby just shrugged. “I’m just saying—if I were you, I’d consider the possibility.”

Sabrina groaned dramatically. “Or, hear me out—he just hates me.”

Gabby gave her an exasperated look. “Sabrina, no one has ever hated anyone the way Oscar Piastri allegedly hates you.”

“Exactly!”

“No, I mean, if he did actually hate you, he’d be way more normal about it.”

Sabrina blinked. “What?”

Gabby smirked. “If he truly disliked you, he’d be able to talk to you just fine. People don’t act weird around people they don’t like. They act weird around people who make them nervous.”

Sabrina opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. “...No.”

Gabby just grinned. “Yes.”

Sabrina scowled. “You and Lando are both delusional.”

Gabby shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe you should test it.”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes. “How?”

Gabby’s grin widened. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe just… talk to him again. See if he spontaneously combusts.”

Sabrina huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine. But when I prove you wrong, you’re buying me coffee.”

Gabby chuckled. “Deal. But when I’m right—I get to say ‘I told you so’ forever.”

***

Sabrina took a deep breath. Okay. This time, it’s going to be fine. It was just a normal conversation. Nothing weird. No running away. No painful silence. Just… normal.

Just Attempt #376 of Sabrina Laurel Clarke trying to have a normal Conversation with Oscar Jack Piastri. 

She spotted Oscar standing by the coffee machine, looking at it like it had personally betrayed him. This was her chance. No escape routes. No distractions.

“Hey, Oscar,” she said, keeping her voice light and casual.

Oscar visibly flinched.

Sabrina hesitated, then pushed forward. “You okay?”

Oscar’s mouth opened, then closed. He blinked at her. Then, with the most robotic movement imaginable, he slowly turned back to the coffee machine. “Fine.”

Sabrina frowned. “Are you sure? You look—”

“I am fine,” he cut in, voice slightly too loud. “Totally. Completely fine. Nothing is wrong. Everything is great.”

Sabrina stared at him. “...Okay?”

Oscar jabbed a button on the coffee machine with unnecessary force. Nothing happened. His jaw tightened. He jabbed it again. Still nothing. Sabrina watched, mildly concerned, as he pressed the button three more times, increasingly frantic.

“Do you want me to—”

“No.”

“Oscar, I think it’s out of—”

“I said no.”

A beat of silence.

Then, because fate clearly had a sense of humor, the coffee machine sputtered violently—and exploded espresso directly onto Oscar’s shirt.

Sabrina gasped. “Oh my god.”

Oscar stared at himself, completely blank-faced, coffee dripping down his front.

Sabrina moved without thinking, grabbing a napkin from the counter. “Here, let me—”

But as soon as she stepped forward, Oscar jerked back like she was about to attack him. “I’M GOOD.”

Sabrina froze mid-motion, napkin in hand.

Oscar stood there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, coffee-soaked, absolutely radiating panic.

Then, before she could say anything else, he spun on his heel and speed-walked out of the room.

Sabrina stood there, napkin still raised, mouth open in disbelief.

And that was when she heard laughter.

She turned to see Lando, cackling into his hand, watching the whole disaster unfold like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

“He hates me,” Sabrina muttered, dropping the napkin.

Lando wiped a fake tear from his eye. “Nah, mate. He’s just in love with you.”

Sabrina gaped at him. “Are you—did you see that?! He ran away from me like I was a literal threat to his safety.”

“Exactly,” Lando said smugly. “That’s not hate. That’s terror.”

Sabrina threw up her hands. “SAME THING.”

Lando just grinned. “Trust me. It’s really not.”

****

Lando: Oi.

Lando: Mate.

Lando: OSCAR.

Lando: ANSWER ME.

Lando: YOU RAN AWAY FROM HER LIKE SHE WAS THE GRIM REAPER.

Lando: BECAUSE OF A COFFEE MACHINE.

Lando: DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW INSANE THAT LOOKED.

Oscar: Leave me alone.

Lando: I will absolutely not.

Lando: You physically recoiled when she tried to hand you a napkin. A napkin, Oscar.

Oscar: I panicked.

Lando: NO SHIT.

Lando: She thinks you hate her.

Oscar: …

Oscar: That’s unfortunate.

Lando: UNFORTUNATE???

Lando: YOU ARE A DISASTER.

Oscar: I KNOW. STOP REMINDING ME.

Lando: Fix it.

Oscar: How?

Lando: Oh, I don’t know, maybe stop acting like she’s an apex predator every time she looks at you?

Oscar: That’s not helpful.

Lando: Neither are you, mate.

Oscar: I’ll figure something out.

Lando: You’d better. Because I swear, if you make her think you hate her one more time, I am personally locking the two of you in a room until you admit you like her.

Oscar: …

Oscar: You wouldn’t.

Lando: Try me.

***

Oscar knew—knew—that Lando was up to something the second he walked into the McLaren motorhome. The smug grin. The too-casual lean against the counter. The glint of mischief in his eyes that could only mean bad things.

Oscar didn’t have the patience for it today.

“What,” he said flatly.

Lando beamed. “Oh, nothing. Just thinking how tragic it is that you and Sabrina never seem to get much time together. What a shame.”

Oscar’s stomach dropped. “Lando—”

“So I thought,” Lando barreled on, ignoring him entirely, “why not fix that? Quality bonding time! No better way to build team spirit.”

Oscar took a slow, steadying breath. “Lando.”

“Which is why,” Lando continued, still smiling like a menace, “you and Sabrina are filming a ‘Try the Aussie Snack’ video together in five minutes.”

Oscar’s soul left his body.

“No,” he said immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“You are doing it.”

Oscar’s eye twitched. “I refuse.”

Lando clapped him on the shoulder. “Too late! Already confirmed. Sabrina’s setting up the camera.”

Oscar stared at him, betrayed.

“You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” Lando corrected. “Now go. And for once, try acting like a normal person around her.”

Oscar considered running. But before he could even attempt an escape, Lando grabbed him by the shoulders and physically steered him toward the media room.

This was going to be a disaster.

Oscar could already feel the impending catastrophe brewing as Lando shoved him into the media room.

Sabrina was there, sitting cross-legged on the couch, setting up the camera with an easy smile. That was already a problem.

Because Oscar, despite all his best efforts, forgot how to be a functional human being the second she smiled at him.

“Hey, Oscar,” she said, looking up. “Ready to try some weird snacks?”

He opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Lando, standing behind him, groaned. “Oh my god. Speak.”

Oscar managed a nod. A stiff, awkward nod that made Sabrina blink in confusion.

Lando sighed, already regretting everything. “Okay, I’m leaving before I get second-hand embarrassment.” He gave Oscar a pointed look. “Don’t screw this up.”

And then, just like that, he was gone.

Leaving Oscar alone. With Sabrina. On camera.

This was a nightmare.

Sabrina tilted her head, studying him. “You okay?”

“Yes,” he said too quickly. “Fine.”

She gave him a look, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press. Instead, she lifted the first snack—some kind of mystery Tim Tam flavor—and held it up. “Alright, first one up. Want to do the honors?”

Oscar nodded again, grabbed the package, and—

Immediately fumbled it.

The Tim Tams slipped right out of his hands, hit the table, and tumbled onto the floor.

Silence.

Oscar stared at them, horrified. Sabrina stared at him, confused.

Then, to make it worse, instead of just picking them up like a normal person, Oscar blurted out:

“I meant to do that.”

Sabrina laughed.

Like, full-on laughed.

And Oscar? He wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

Instead, he bent down, grabbed the fallen package, and shoved it back onto the table with unnecessary force. “Let’s just—let’s just get on with it.”

Sabrina was still grinning as she unwrapped the pack, clearly amused. “Sure, whatever you say.”

The rest of the filming went about as well as expected.

Which was to say: terribly.

Oscar stammered through half his sentences, nearly choked on a Wagon Wheel, and at one point, when Sabrina playfully nudged his arm, he nearly knocked over the entire table.

By the end of it, Sabrina must be fully convinced he was the strangest person alive.

And Oscar?

Oscar was fully convinced Lando Norris was going to die for putting him through this.

****

Lando (Car): 

Lando (Car):  I just did my best matchmaking work to date.

Emily (PR): Oh no.

Matt (Mechanic): Oh no.

Gabby (Social Media):  Oh no.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh no.

Lando (Car):  Why do you all react like that??

Emily (PR): Because your matchmaking has the success rate of a crashed simulator.

Matt (Mechanic):  What did you do?

Lando (Car):  I set up Oscar and Sabrina to film the snack taste test together.

Adam (Hospitality):  Oh no.

Lando (Car):  STOP SAYING THAT.

Adam (Hospitality):  And how did it go?

Lando (Car):  Not well.

Emily (PR): Define not well.

Gabby (Social Media): Wait. I just watched the footage.

Gabby (Social Media): The footage is completely unusable unless we want people to think Oscar is actively having a stroke.

Matt (Mechanic):  What did he do??

Gabby (Social Media):  He dropped the snacks, stumbled over every sentence, stuttered like 15 times, choked on a Wagon Wheel, and almost knocked over the table because Sabrina barely nudged him.

Matt (Mechanic): For fuck’s sake.

Gabby (Social Media): Sabrina literally came up to me after filming and once again was like, “I think Oscar genuinely hates me.”

Lando (Car):  HE LIKES HER. HE JUST DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO FUNCTION.

Adam (Hospitality):  This is the worst case of “boy failure” I have ever seen in my life.

Emily (PR): Can we salvage anything from the footage?

Gabby (Social Media):  I mean. It is funny.

Lando (Car): Post the choking clip.

Emily (PR): We are NOT posting footage of one of our drivers choking on a Wagon Wheel.

Lando (Car): Cowards.

***

Sabrina wasn’t sure why Lando had insisted she sit next to Oscar at the team dinner, but she should have known it was a terrible idea.

The moment she slid into the seat beside him, he tensed like someone had just threatened to light him on fire.

“Hey,” she tried, keeping her voice light.

Oscar didn’t even look at her. “Hi.”

It was clipped. Sharp. Barely there.

Sabrina blinked. Okay, then.

She tried to brush it off. Maybe he was just tired. Maybe he was stressed. Maybe—

“Oh, Sabrina, you’ve gotta try this,” Lando announced, loudly enough for half the table to hear. He speared something off his plate and dropped it onto hers like he was a benevolent king bestowing a gift. “Oscar loves it. Right, Oscar?”

Sabrina glanced at Oscar just in time to see him staring at the food like it had personally offended him.

“…Sure,” he muttered, then grabbed his glass and took a sip of water like it physically pained him to be part of this conversation.

She hesitated. “I mean, if you like it, I’m sure it’s good—”

Oscar made a noise that was something between a cough and a laugh. “Yeah. Right.”

Sabrina froze.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Lando kicked Oscar under the table—Sabrina could hear it—but Oscar just shot him a glare and went back to stabbing at his food with a little too much aggression.

Okay. She’d give him one more chance.

Sabrina turned to him again. “So, uh, do you have any fun off-weekend plans?”

Oscar finally, finally looked at her.

“No.”

Then he immediately turned back to his plate.

Lando groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

Sabrina clenched her jaw.

She was done.

Every time she tried to talk to Oscar, he shut down completely. He either ignored her, barely acknowledged her, or treated her like she was a personal inconvenience.

And yet, for some insane reason, Lando kept pushing them together.

She shoved a forkful of food into her mouth, silently seething.

Lando was wrong.

Oscar didn’t like her.

Oscar Piastri hated her.

***

Lando (Car):  I GIVE UP.

Lando (Car):  I TRIED. I REALLY TRIED.

Lando (Car):  AND HE JUST SAT THERE LIKE A F***ING STATUE AND MADE IT WORSE.

Matt (Mechanic): What happened??

Lando (Car):  IT’S A DISASTER.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh no.

Emily (PR): What did he do this time?

Lando (Car):  Sabrina tried to make conversation. Asked about his weekend. Lando (Car):  And this idiot just said “No.” AND WENT BACK TO EATING.

Jordan (Marketing): 💀💀💀

Emily (PR): You’re joking.

Gabby (Social Media):  WHY IS HE LIKE THIS????

Lando (Car):  I DON’T KNOW. I WISH I DID.

Matt (Mechanic): What did Sabrina do?

Lando (Car):  She looked like she was seriously reconsidering her life choices.

Lando (Car): And I don’t blame her.

Gabby (Social Media):  We’re gonna lose her. She’s gonna quit and it’s gonna be Oscar’s fault.

Jordan (Marketing): What if he actually does hate her? Like, genuinely?

Lucy (Engineer): No way. I caught him staring at her like a lovesick puppy two days ago.

Lando (Car):  EXCUSE ME??????

Lucy (Engineer): Yeah. He was watching her across the paddock. Full-on, dazed, in a trance, staring.

Jordan (Marketing): So he likes her. But every time she talks to him, he malfunctions.

Matt (Mechanic): That’s what we’re saying, yes.

Lando (Car):  I am going to fight him.

Emily (PR): How are you gonna fix this?

Lando (Car):  I DON’T KNOW. HE WON’T LET ME HELP.

Gabby (Social Media):  Maybe stop helping.

Lando (Car):  NEVER.

***

Sabrina flopped down onto her bed with a deep sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “I think I’m actually starting to take it personally.”

Her roommate, Gabby, barely looked up from where she was scrolling on her phone. “What, the Oscar thing?”

“Yes, the Oscar thing,” Sabrina said, throwing an arm over her face. “It was funny at first. Like, ‘oh, haha, Oscar Piastri is awkward around me,’ but now—Gabby, I swear to God, I think he actually hates me.”

Gabby finally put her phone down. “He doesn’t hate you.”

Sabrina let out a humorless laugh. “He won’t even speak to me! Do you know what happened today? I asked him how his weekend was, and do you know what he said? No.”

Gabby blinked. “No?”

“Just ‘no’ and then he went back to eating like I didn’t exist.”

Gabby winced. “Ouch.”

Sabrina groaned, rubbing her hands down her face. “And then Lando looks like he’s ready to kill him, and I don’t even know why! Like, am I missing something?”

Gabby bit her lip, hesitating. “…Well.”

Sabrina turned her head to look at her. “What?”

Gabby shifted. “Lando did say Oscar has a crush on you.”

Sabrina just stared at her for a second. Then she scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious.”

“That makes zero sense,” Sabrina argued, sitting up. “Who acts like that around someone they like? He actively avoids me! I feel like I’m in high school again and the guy I had a crush on would rather jump into traffic than have a conversation with me.”

Gabby sighed. “I know it’s weird, but maybe he’s just really, really bad at talking to his crush?”

Sabrina let out a small, sad laugh. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m kind of over it. I don’t like feeling like an inconvenience every time I open my mouth.”

Gabby gave her a sympathetic look. “Maybe you should just… stop trying?”

Sabrina flopped back onto the bed. “Yeah. I think I will.”

***

Sabrina had always prided herself on being professional. On handling things with grace. On not letting things get to her.

But tonight, Oscar Piastri had officially broken her.

She didn’t know why she even bothered anymore. She had spent months trying to be friendly, trying to smooth over whatever invisible tension sat between them, trying to convince herself that maybe—maybe—she was just imagining things.

But she wasn’t.

Because when she had reached out—again—to be nothing but nice to him, he had made it crystal clear how he felt about her.

It had been something so small.

She had only been trying to help.

They had all been standing around post-race, the energy in the McLaren garage a buzz of relief and exhaustion. She had noticed his water bottle was empty and, without thinking, had grabbed a fresh one off the table and handed it to him.

A normal, human gesture.

And then, Oscar—fucking Oscar—had recoiled.

Actually recoiled. Like she was something disgusting.

“I don’t need you to do things for me,” he had snapped.

Loud enough for people to hear.

Loud enough that Lando had blinked at him like he had lost his mind.

Loud enough that Sabrina had felt the words like a slap across the face.

It was the way he said it. The disgust. The finality. The absolute contempt in his voice, like she had committed some crime just by offering him a bottle of water.

Her fingers had gone numb around the plastic before she let it drop to the table, her throat so tight she thought she might actually choke on it.

For a second, she swore she saw regret flash in his eyes, but she didn’t care.

Because fuck that.

She had taken a step back, plastered on that bullshit little smile she had gotten too good at faking, and said, “Noted.”

Then she turned on her heel and left.

She didn’t stop until she was out of the garage, away from the noise, away from him, before her hands started to shake. Before the stupid lump in her throat finally won.

She had spent months trying to figure out what she had done to make Oscar Piastri hate her so much.

And now?

Now she was just done.

Sabrina barely made it around the corner before her breath hitched in her throat.

She had tried—God, she had tried—to keep it together, to swallow it down like she always did, to shake it off and pretend like it didn’t matter.

But it did.

Because she was so tired of this. Of trying, of second-guessing, of making excuses for why Oscar Piastri treated her like she was something he couldn’t stand to be around.

And tonight? Tonight, he hadn’t even tried to hide it.

A fresh wave of humiliation crashed over her, and suddenly, she was gripping the side of a metal barricade, blinking rapidly as tears burned in her eyes.

“...Sabrina?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her voice to come out normal before she turned. But one look at Gabby, her closest friend on the media team, and it all crumbled.

Because Gabby took one look at her face and knew.

“Oh, babe.”

That was all it took. The dam broke.

Sabrina let out a harsh, shaky breath, pressing her palms against her face as the tears finally spilled over.

“I don’t—I don’t know what I did,” she choked out, voice wrecked.

Gabby stepped in without hesitation, arms wrapping around her tightly, like she could shield Sabrina from the weight of it all.

“You didn’t do anything,” she murmured. “He’s just—he’s weird—”

“No, he hates me.” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, pulling back just enough to look at her friend. “I don’t—why does he hate me?”

Gabby’s expression twisted, like she was trying to figure out the right thing to say. But there wasn’t a right thing to say, because there wasn’t a reason.

Sabrina wasn’t stupid. She knew not everyone had to like her. But this? This was something else. Something cruel, something that made her feel like she was some idiot constantly trying to reach for a friendship that was never going to exist.

And maybe she could’ve handled that.

But what she couldn’t handle was how much it hurt.

How much it made her feel like she was the only one in the world who didn’t understand why she deserved it.

Gabby exhaled, tightening her grip on Sabrina’s shoulders.

“You need to stop trying,” she said gently. “Because if he’s too much of a coward to explain himself, then he doesn’t deserve to have you wasting another second on him.”

Sabrina let out a wet, broken laugh, swiping furiously at her face.

“I wish I could,” she whispered. “I really do.”

***

Gabby (Social Media): LANDO. I AM GOING TO KILL YOUR TEAMMATE.

Lando (Car):  …okay, so context would be great before I start panicking???

Jordan (Marketing): Seconded. What did Oscar do this time?

Gabby (Social Media): Oh, you mean aside from being a complete nightmare of a human being to Sabrina for MONTHS??

Lando (Car):  Look, I know he’s socially incompetent, but what happened?

Gabby (Social Media): HE MADE HER CRY.

Lucy (Engineer): OH WHAT THE HELL.

Matt (Mechanic): Wait, actually cry? Not just frustrated huffing and ‘I’m gonna scream’ kind of cry?

Gabby (Social Media): FULL ON. TEARS. Lando, she thinks he hates her. She literally just said, “Why does he hate me?” THROUGH TEARS.

Lando (Car):  …I’m going to kill him.

Gabby (Social Media): Not if I get there first.

Emily (PR): Oh my God. Sabrina is one of the nicest people here, what is WRONG with him??

Lando (Car):  You guys. He doesn’t hate her. He likes her. He just has the social skills of a damp paper towel.

Gabby (Social Media): OH REALLY? You wanna come tell her that while she’s sobbing into my shirt??

Lando (Car):  I—

Lando (Car): Okay yeah that’s really bad.

Adam (Hospitality): What the hell does he do to make her think he hates her???

Gabby (Social Media): Oh, you mean aside from looking like he’d rather walk into oncoming traffic than hold a conversation with her?? Or the fact that whenever she so much as breathes in his direction, he either ignores her or flees the scene like she’s a serial killer???

Matt (Mechanic): Tbf, he also does that when I ask him to sign merch for my niece.

Gabby (Social Media): THAT IS NOT THE POINT.

Lando (Car):  I swear he’s just a nervous wreck around her.

Gabby (Social Media): Well, congratulations, your nervous wreck of a teammate has finally broken her.

Lando (Car): Okay, okay, I’m fixing this.

Gabby (Social Media): Fixing it how??

Lando (Car):  Step 1: Yell at Oscar.

Lando (Car):  Step 2: Figure out Step 2.

Emily (PR): This is going to be a disaster.

Matt (Mechanic): Someone record it.

***

Oscar barely had time to react before Lando stormed into his hotel room, slamming the door shut behind him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Lando demanded, eyes blazing.

Oscar blinked, still in his McLaren hoodie, halfway through removing his shoes. “Uh—”

Lando cut him off. “Sabrina is CRYING, mate. ACTUAL TEARS. Do you understand how hard it is to make someone like Sabrina cry? You have to be horrible. And congratulations! You did it!”

Oscar’s stomach sank. “She’s crying?”

“Yes, you absolute moron!” Lando threw his hands up. “Gabby just texted the group chat saying she’s full-on sobbing because she thinks you hate her.”

Oscar swallowed. “I don’t—”

“I KNOW YOU DON’T,” Lando yelled. “But do you know what she knows? That every time she tries to talk to you, you look like you’re being held at gunpoint and then RUN AWAY.”

Oscar rubbed a hand over his face, guilt pooling in his gut. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Well, guess what? Intentions don’t mean shit if the person on the other end is crying their eyes out in a hotel room thinking you despise their existence.” Lando grabbed Oscar’s arm and yanked him toward the door. “You’re coming with me.”

Oscar dug his heels in. “Lando—”

“No. I don’t care if you combust from secondhand embarrassment. You’re apologizing to her.”

Oscar sighed, defeated, and let himself be dragged down the hallway.

Sabrina looked up when the door swung open. Her eyes are still red-rimmed, and when she sees Oscar standing there, she stiffened immediately. Gabby, beside her on the bed, narrowed her eyes.

“What is he doing here?” Sabrina asked, voice hoarse.

“He has something to say,” Lando announces, shoving Oscar forward before leaning against the door like a prison guard. “And he’s not leaving until he says it.”

Oscar’s mouth went dry. Sabrina crossed her arms, waiting. Gabby glared.

“I—” Oscar started, but the words catch in his throat.

Sabrina exhaled sharply. “Let me guess. You want me to stop bothering you? You think I should take the hint?” She shook her head, voice cracking. “I get it, okay? I got it a long time ago. You don’t have to do this whole awkward pity act.”

Oscar felt like the world had flipped upside down. “Sabrina—”

“No,” she interrupted, standing up. “You’ve spent months making me feel like I’m less than nothing to you. Like I’m some annoyance you can’t wait to get away from. And now, what? You’re forced to be here, and I’m supposed to pretend it’s fine?”

“That’s not—”

“Then WHAT is it?” she snapped, eyes burning. “Because I have tried, Oscar. I’ve tried to be nice. I’ve tried to talk to you. And every single time, you look at me like I’ve killed your dog before you run away like you can’t stand to be in the same room as me.” Her voice wobbled. “Do you have any idea how much that sucks?”

Oscar was frozen, heart pounding. Sabrina’s chest rises and falls unevenly, her fists clenched at her sides.

“I don’t hate you,” he blurted.

Sabrina lets out a bitter laugh. “You have a really funny way of showing it.”

“I don’t—” Oscar ran a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly. “I like you, okay?”

The room went dead silent.

Sabrina blinked. “What?”

Oscar squeezes his eyes shut, then opened them again. “I like you,” he repeats, quieter this time. “That’s why I’ve been so—” He gestures vaguely at himself, expression pained. “Weird. I get nervous, and then I panic, and then I make everything worse.”

Sabrina just stares at him, speechless. Gabby’s jaw has dropped. Lando lets out an I KNEW IT under his breath.

Oscar shifted awkwardly. “I never meant to make you feel like I hated you. I just... didn’t know how to act like a normal person around you.”

Sabrina exhaled slowly, emotions warring on her face. Finally, she rubbed her hands over her eyes. “I cannot believe this.”

Oscar winced. “Yeah.”

Lando clapped his hands together. “Okay, well, I think this is a great development! Now that the truth is out, maybe we can all move past the months of absolute torture you’ve both inflicted on us.”

Sabrina glared at him. “Lando.”

“What?”

She sighed. “Shut up.”

Oscar was standing there like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. Gabby, sitting on the bed, was looking between them like she’s watching the most fascinating TV drama of the year.

“You like me,” Sabrina repeated, like she’s trying to process the words in real time. “That’s why you’ve spent months acting like I have the plague?”

Oscar shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking thoroughly miserable. “Yes?”

Sabrina stared at him, then threw her hands up. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

Lando makes an exaggerated ding ding ding motion with his hands. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”

Oscar shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

Sabrina pressed her fingers to her temples, exhaling sharply. “Do you know how much I’ve stressed about this? How much I’ve analyzed every single interaction we’ve ever had, trying to figure out what I did to make you hate me? And the answer was just this?” She gestured at him, looking completely exasperated. “You like me?”

Oscar winced. “I panicked.”

“Oh my god,” she groaned, dropping onto the edge of the bed.

Lando leaned against the wall, looking far too amused by the situation. “I mean, at least we got to the bottom of it, yeah? No more crying, no more existential crises about why Oscar Piastri has been treating you like an actual curse.”

Sabrina glared at him again. “Lando.”

“What?”

“Go away.”

Lando blinked. “Excuse me?”

“This is your fault,” she said, standing back up and jabbing a finger in his direction. 

Lando scoffed, offended. “I tried! Do you know how many times I’ve told Oscar to stop being a complete weirdo about this?” He turned to Oscar. “Tell her! Tell her how many times I’ve told you to stop being an idiot!”

Oscar sighed. “He has told me.”

“See?” Lando gestured dramatically. “I tried to help, but noooo, someone just had to be emotionally repressed and incapable of functioning like a normal human being around their crush.”

Oscar pinched the bridge of his nose. “Lando, leave.”

Lando raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. But you both owe me after this.”

He strided to the door, pausing dramatically with his hand on the handle. “Oh, and just so you know? The entire McLaren staff group chat is losing their minds over this. We’ve all been waiting for this moment for months.”

Sabrina groaned. Oscar looks like he might pass out.

Lando grinned. “Okay, now I’m leaving.”

And with that, he walked out, whistling cheerfully.

Gabby gave them one look before following behind him. 

Once the door clicked shut, silence settled over the room.

Sabrina exhaled, looking up at Oscar again. “So.”

Oscar shifted uncomfortably. “So.”

She tilted her head, studying him. “What do we do now?”

He hesitated, then said, “I think this is the part where I properly apologise for being a complete asshole.”

Sabrina snorted, some of the tension finally easing from her shoulders. “Yeah. Probably.”

Oscar met her eyes. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like—like any of that. I was just so nervous all the time that I kept making things worse, and then it snowballed, and I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Sabrina watched him for a long moment, like she was deciding whether or not to accept that. Then she sighed. “Okay.”

Oscar blinked. “Okay?”

“I accept your apology,” she said, crossing her arms again. “But you really need to work on your people skills.”

A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. I’ve been told.”

She raised an eyebrow. “By Lando?”

“And everyone else.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “God. This is ridiculous.”

Oscar hesitated. “I, um. I get if this whole thing has been too much, and if you don’t want to—”

“Oh my god, just ask me out,” Sabrina interrupts.

Oscar stops. “What?”

Sabrina gestures vaguely. “You. Me. A date. Because if I have to spend one more week waiting for you to act normal, I will actually lose my mind.”

Oscar swallowed. “Would you say yes?”

Sabrina sighed dramatically. “After all of this? If I say no, I’d just be proving Lando right about us being a disaster.”

Oscar let out a short laugh. “So… will you go out with me?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes, but there was a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. “Yes, Oscar.”

Oscar exhales, something warm settling in his chest. “Okay. Good.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“OH MY GOD,” Lando yells from outside the door. “I KNEW IT.”

Oscar groans. Sabrina bursts into laughter.

And just like that, everything finally made sense.

***

Lando (Car):  EVERYONE SHUT UP AND PAY ATTENTION. I HAVE DONE IT. I HAVE SUCCEEDED. I AM A GENIUS.

Lucy (Engineer): …What did you do.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh god, what did you break.

Adam (Hospitality): If this is about your fantasy football league, I’m muting you.

Lando (Car):  NO. IT’S EVEN BETTER. I HAVE MATCHMADE. I HAVE FIXED OSCAR PIASTRI.

Lucy (Engineer): That’s a bold claim.

Matt (Mechanic): That’s an impossible claim.

Adam (Hospitality): Fixed in what way? Like, emotionally? That feels out of your skill set.

Lando (Car): OSCAR AND Sabrina ARE GOING ON A DATE. I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS. I AM CUPID. I AM INEVITABLE.

Lucy (Engineer): …What.

Jordan (Marketing): No.

Matt (Mechanic): This is a prank.

Lando (Car):  ASK HIM. ASK HER. I DRAGGED HIM TO APOLOGIZE AND HE CONFESSED HIS CRUSH AND THEN SHE SAID YES AND NOW THEY’RE A THING.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh my god.

Adam (Hospitality): I feel like this should be impossible.

Emily (PR): Are we sure she’s not secretly plotting revenge?

Gabby (Social Media): Yeah, I feel like she deserves at least a week to recover from months of psychological warfare before making this decision.

Lando (Car):  NOPE. IT’S HAPPENING. I AM A HERO.

Lucy (Engineer): I don’t think that’s the word I’d use.

Adam (Hospitality): Did Oscar even want you to set them up?

Lando (Car):  LOL NO.

Matt (Mechanic): So you bullied him into a relationship.

Lando (Car): MATCHMAKING. NOT BULLYING. DIFFERENT.

Gabby (Social Media): Sabrina better make him suffer first, just on principle.

Lucy (Engineer): Yeah, she deserves to be emotionally compensated.

Emily (PR): Someone make sure Oscar doesn’t panic and ruin it before the first date even happens.

Lando (Car):  DON’T WORRY. I AM HIS DATING COACH NOW.

Gabby (Social Media): That is so much worse.

Matt (Mechanic): This is a disaster.

Lucy (Engineer): I’m getting popcorn.

Jordan (Marketing): Oh, absolutely.

Adam (Hospitality): We should start a bet on how long it takes before Sabrina realizes dating Oscar is harder than working here.

Lando (Car):  Y’ALL HAVE NO FAITH.

Emily (PR): Absolutely not.

Lucy (Engineer): None.

Adam (Hospitality): Zero.

Matt (Mechanic): We have seen him try to talk to her.

Lando (Car):  WELL NOW THEY’RE DATING. SO I WIN.

Gabby (Social Media): Bold of you to assume she won’t dump him out of frustration within a week.

Jordan (Marketing): Honestly, I give it three days.

Lando (Car):  Y’ALL ARE HATERS. I AM A LEGEND. OSCAR OWES ME HIS LIFE. Sabrina OWES ME HER HAPPINESS. THIS TEAM OWES ME A STATUE.

Matt (Mechanic): …

Lucy (Engineer): Muting him now.

Jordan (Marketing): Same.

***

Lando (Car):  UPDATE. THEY ARE ON THE DATE. I REPEAT. THEY ARE ON THE DATE.

Lucy (Engineer): Are you watching them right now?

Jordan (Marketing): Are we… stalking them.

Matt (Mechanic): I just wanna know how long until Oscar panics and spills his drink.

Lando (Car): I’M NOT STALKING. I’M JUST… MAKING SURE MY HARD WORK PAYS OFF.

Gabby (Social Media): You are literally sitting two tables away from them.

Lando (Car):  THAT’S CALLED SUPERVISION.

Emily (PR): This is deeply unethical.

Lucy (Engineer): Yeah, I’m pretty sure we’re violating like five HR policies right now.

Gabby (Social Media): If HR asks, I was not here.

Matt (Mechanic): So what’s happening?

Lando (Car):  OKAY. So. Sabrina is talking. Oscar is nodding. HE HAS NOT SAID A SINGLE WORD.

Lucy (Engineer): Classic.

Jordan (Marketing): Sounds about right.

Lando (Car):  Wait. WAIT. HE JUST TRIED TO TALK. HE OPENED HIS MOUTH.

Lucy (Engineer): And?

Lando (Car): HE KNOCKED OVER HIS WATER GLASS INSTEAD.

Lucy (Engineer): Of course he did.

Gabby (Social Media): That’s our boy.

Emily (PR): Was it a full glass?

Lando (Car):  OH IT WAS VERY FULL. IT HAS NOW ENTERED Sabrina’S LAP.

Jordan (Marketing): Jesus Christ.

Lucy (Engineer): It’s over. She’s leaving.

Adam (Hospitality): There is no coming back from this.

Lando (Car): NO WAIT SHE’S LAUGHING.

Matt (Mechanic): What?

Lucy (Engineer): …Why??

Adam (Hospitality): Is she okay??

Lando (Car):  I THINK SHE JUST ACCEPTED THAT HE’S A DISASTER AND IS EMBRACING IT.

Gabby (Social Media): Honestly, that’s the only way this relationship survives.

Emily (PR): I have no words.

Matt (Mechanic): Is Oscar okay?

Lando (Car):  HE LOOKS LIKE HE WANTS TO CRAWL UNDER THE TABLE BUT SHE’S SMILING AT HIM. HE MIGHT SURVIVE THIS.

Gabby (Social Media): Sabrina is way too kind for this world.

Jordan (Marketing): Should we be worried about her decision-making skills?

Gabby (Social Media): Absolutely.

Lando (Car):  GUYS GUYS SHE JUST PUT HER HAND ON HIS ARM. THIS IS PROGRESS.

Matt (Mechanic): Do you think he’s gonna pass out?

Lucy (Engineer): 50/50 chance.

Jordan (Marketing): Do we have a medic on standby?

Adam (Hospitality): I bet he overthinks it and freezes.

Lando (Car):  HE’S JUST STARING AT HER HAND LIKE IT’S A COMPLEX MATH PROBLEM.

Matt (Mechanic): Yeah, that tracks.

Lucy (Engineer): What’s the over/under on him panicking and excusing himself to the bathroom for like ten minutes.

Adam (Hospitality): Already placing bets.

Lando (Car):  I AM SO PROUD. MY BOY IS ON A DATE. HE’S FLAILING BUT HE’S ON A DATE.

Emily (PR): This is the single most unhinged group chat I have ever been part of.

Gabby (Social Media): Agreed.

Matt (Mechanic): Not even top five, honestly.

Lando (Car):  I WILL UPDATE YOU ALL LATER. STAY TUNED.

Lucy (Engineer): God help us all.

Lando (Car):  OKAY UPDATE. OSCAR SURVIVED THE HAND ON ARM INCIDENT. BARELY.

Lucy (Engineer): Define “barely.”

Matt (Mechanic): Is he still breathing?

Lando (Car):  Yes. But he was so still for like a full 30 seconds that I thought he had short-circuited.

Adam (Hospitality): He probably did.

Gabby (Social Media): The man is a Windows XP loading screen in human form.

Lando (Car):  Anyway. They’re talking again. I can’t hear what they’re saying but Sabrina just tilted her head like she’s curious about something.

Emily (PR): Oh god. What did he say?

Lando (Car):  I HAVE NO IDEA BUT HIS FACE IS COMPLETELY RED.

Matt (Mechanic): He probably just apologized for spilling the water… again.

Lucy (Engineer): That’s fair. But also, is it too much to ask for him to just act normal for one date?

Gabby (Social Media): Yes.

Adam (Hospitality): Highly unrealistic expectations.

Lando (Car):  HOLY SHIT WAIT. HE JUST MADE HER LAUGH. ON PURPOSE.

Lucy (Engineer): No way.

Matt (Mechanic): That doesn’t sound right.

Adam (Hospitality): Are you sure she’s laughing with him and not at him?

Lando (Car): It looked intentional???

Emily (PR): Are you absolutely certain?

Lando (Car):  No.

Jordan (Marketing): Reasonable.

Lando (Car): BUT SHE’S STILL SMILING AND HE LOOKS LIKE HE MIGHT ACTUALLY BE RELAXING.

Lucy (Engineer): Impossible.

Adam (Hospitality): Sounds fake.

Matt (Mechanic): I won’t believe it until we see proof.

Lando (Car):  WELL GOOD NEWS. I HAVE FOOTAGE.

Emily (PR): Lando, please tell me you did not just record them on their date.

Lando (Car):  I may or may not have.

Jordan (Marketing): That is so creepy.

Lucy (Engineer): So send it.

Adam (Hospitality): Yeah, we need evidence.

Lando (Car):  SENDING…

(Lando has sent one video.)

Matt (Mechanic): …Wait. Is this actually real???

Lucy (Engineer): He did make her laugh.

Jordan (Marketing): She leans in a little too.

Adam (Hospitality): This is history.

Emily (PR): I hate that we’re all so emotionally invested in this.

Lando (Car):  GUYS WAIT—

Jordan (Marketing):: Oh no.

Matt (Mechanic): What?

Lando (Car):  HE JUST LOOKED AT HER LIPS.

Lucy (Engineer): 😳

Adam (Hospitality): 😳

Jordan (Marketing):: 😳

Matt (Mechanic): 😳

Gabby (Social Media): …Are we about to witness Oscar Piastri actually kissing someone???

Lando (Car):  I DON’T KNOW BUT HE IS THINKING ABOUT IT. I CAN SEE IT.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh my god.

Gabby (Social Media): Sabrina just tucked her hair behind her ear. That’s the universal “I like you” sign.

Matt (Mechanic): This is HUGE.

Lando (Car): GUYS HE’S GONNA DO IT. HE’S GONNA—

Gabby (Social Media): DON’T JINX IT.

Lando (Car):  OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE. HE JUST PANICKED AND LOOKED AWAY.

Lucy (Engineer): Oh my god.

Adam (Hospitality): This idiot.

Matt (Mechanic): The sheer whiplash.

Lucy (Engineer): This is painful to witness.

Emily (PR): Someone go shake some sense into him.

Lando (Car):  I AM SO MAD.

Gabby (Social Media): We were so close.

Lucy (Engineer): Classic Oscar Piastri.

Matt (Mechanic): What now.

Lando (Car):  I AM FORMULATING A PLAN.

Jordan (Marketing):: God help us.

Emily (PR): Please don’t make it worse.

Lando (Car): I will get these two together if it’s the last thing I do.

Gabby (Social Media): Let’s be honest, it probably will be.

Lucy (Engineer): R.I.P. Lando Norris. Cause of death: excessive matchmaking attempts.

Gabby (Social Media): We’ll put it on your tombstone.

Lando (Car):  YOU’LL THANK ME WHEN THIS WORKS.

Gabby (Social Media): Big if.

Emily (PR): Huge if.

Lando (Car):  You’ll see. 😈

Lando (Car):  OKAY. NEW PLAN.

Gabby (Social Media): Oh no.

Lucy (Engineer): Here we go.

Matt (Mechanic): I’m scared.

Jordan (Marketing):: We should be.

Emily (PR): Lando, I beg you to reconsider whatever you’re about to say.

Lando (Car): TOO LATE. I’M TEXTING OSCAR RIGHT NOW.

Adam (Hospitality): About what?

Lando (Car):  ABOUT HOW HE NEEDS TO STOP BEING A COWARD AND KISS HER.

Matt (Mechanic): …During the date?

Lucy (Engineer): Oh my god.

Jordan (Marketing):: He’s going to see you texting him.

Gabby (Social Media): Lando, no.

Lando (Car):  Lando, yes.

(Lando has sent a screenshot.)

Lando (Car):  SENT.

Matt (Mechanic): …“KISS THE GIRL YOU COWARD.”

Gabby (Social Media): That’s what you went with???

Jordan (Marketing):: Subtle.

Lucy (Engineer): Elegant.

Emily (PR): Deranged.

Lando (Car): Well, he just looked at his phone.

Gabby (Social Media): Oh god.

Matt (Mechanic): How’s he reacting?

Lando (Car):  He blinked. Like, twice. Real fast.

Adam (Hospitality): That means he’s panicking.

Gabby (Social Media): Yeah, that’s a full system reboot.

Lando (Car):  WAIT. HE JUST PUT HIS PHONE DOWN AND SAID SOMETHING TO HER.

Lucy (Engineer): WHAT DID HE SAY.

Lando (Car):  I DON’T KNOW, I CAN’T LIP READ. BUT SHE’S SMILING.

Matt (Mechanic): HOLY SHIT.

Gabby (Social Media): If this works, I take back everything I said.

Lucy (Engineer): No you won’t.

Gabby (Social Media): Yeah, no I won’t.

Lando (Car):  HE’S LEANING IN.

Gabby (Social Media): OH MY GOD.

Adam (Hospitality): I’M GOING TO THROW UP.

Gabby (Social Media): IT’S HAPPENING.

Jordan (Marketing): SOMEONE RECORD THIS.

Emily (PR): DO NOT RECORD THIS.

Lando (Car):  I ALREADY AM.

(Lando has sent one video.)

Gabby (Social Media): HOLY SHIT HE DID IT.

Gabby (Social Media): I NEED A MOMENT.

Matt (Mechanic): HE ACTUALLY KISSED HER.

Jordan (Marketing):: I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS WORKED.

Emily (PR): Delete the video. Right now.

Lando (Car):  Absolutely not.

Matt (Mechanic): He’s still alive, right? Like, he didn’t just immediately short-circuit and pass out?

Lando (Car):  Barely.

Lucy (Engineer): I think we should all take a moment to recognize the true hero here.

Jordan (Marketing):: Lando?

Lucy (Engineer): Lando.

Matt (Mechanic): Lando.

Gabby (Social Media): Please don’t encourage him.

Lando (Car):  You’re all so welcome. 😌

***

[mizutsugi]

cowgirl ☆ (dean winchester x reader

↳ synopsis: you ride the mechanical bull at some texas dive bar, and dean really can't keep his mind out of the gutter...

↳word count: 2,052

↳cw: nsfw (MINORS DNI!!), smut, fem/afab reader, oral sex (f recieving), p in v (wrap it up!!!), cowgirl (duh..), a bit of sub dean if you squint, not proof read!

You were about five shots in at a little dive bar in Texas, slamming the shot glass down onto the sticky dark oak counter as Dean followed behind you. The place was crowded- it was a Friday night, after all. The room smelled like booze and old leather, and the walls were a deep red, littered with little photos and mementos… an old acoustic guitar, a framed picture of a longhorn, an old Budweiser sign- the works. Whatever shyness you had was left at the door, and with all the booze starting to hit your system, you felt like you could do anything. That’s when your eyes landed on a faux bull in the middle of the dimly lit room, surrounded by blue padded foam and a ring. You smiled and pointed at it, trying to get Dean to follow.

“I wanna ride it.” You said.

“Are you sure about that, sweetheart? You’ve had a few.” Dean chuckled, currently sipping on a whiskey.

“Mhm.” You nodded before hopping off the barstool, dotting your way around the crowded bar before you made it to the bullpen. Dean was frankly shocked you went for it so quickly, and tried to follow you, pushing through a few people in the process. 

You threw a leg clumsily over the elastic cord separating the bullpen and the hardwood floor, stumbling over the soft foam before grasping onto the robotic bull. Suddenly a man appeared behind you- hell, maybe he was there the whole time- and tapped your shoulder. 

“You sober enough to be doing this, missus?” He asked with a southern drawl. He had a jean jacket on and a cowboy hat, and you gave him the kindest smile you could summon.

“Yes sir, promise!” You grinned, swinging your leg over the bull and mounting it. You playfully grabbed his cowboy hat and put it on your head. The man just laughed and shook his head, too spent to fight it. You looked around for Dean, who was now leaning on the cord with his arms folded over the strong material, smirking at you. In his head, he was making a bet with himself that you’d last 10 seconds tops. 

“Alrighty, just hang tight…” The man ducked out of the ring and grabbed what you assumed to be the controller. He pressed a button and the bull, big and black, started moving. 

You laughed and gripped onto the saddle mount, trying to remember everything from those old western flicks Dean loved to watch back home. You lifted your hips, back arching as you tried to remain as steady as possible while the bull lurched forward. Your thighs squeezed tightly around the machinery, your hold on the peg in front of you steady. You kept giggling to yourself, looking back at Dean with a wild grin on your face. He smiled back, nodding his head in approval. If he was being honest, all he could focus on was the way your hips rolled and your hair bounced on your collarbone, done up into two cute braided pigtails. You were wearing his flannel and a lacy white tank top underneath, that showed just enough. 

A crowd slowly emerged around the pen, with people holding drinks and cheering you on as you passed the thirty second mark. The bull started moving more rapidly, and your thighs gripped the beast tighter, while the upper half of your torso moved freely as to dodge the sharp movements. You whooped and hollered, freeing one arm from the mount to grab on to your (stolen) cowboy hat and tip it to the crowd before waving it frantically in the air. You could hear Dean clapping for you, cheering your name as you made it past a minute. You looked over to him as he watched you, both enamored and proud, and you smiled back. You put the hat back on your head and watched as a few of the patrons of the bar joined in on the cheering. The bull was getting quicker and more frantic, bucking you around all over the place. You tried your best, but your grip loosened and your thighs started spazzing out, losing their hold around the animal. You let out one last cheer before getting thrown off the bull, landing with a gentle thud on the plush padding beneath you. You laughed as the people around you clapped, including the operator. He retrieved his hat, which had fallen off your head when you fell, and gave you a firm handshake and a “well done” after you pulled yourself back up. You felt a bit dizzy, and looked around for Dean, who was now ducking below the cord and offering you a sturdy hand to pull yourself up by. 

You smiled warmly at him before taking it, allowing him to pull you out of the ring. He dropped your hand but quickly went in for a kiss, pecking you on the lips before giving your shoulder an approving pat. 

“You’re a damn professional, babe.” He said.

“Aw, shucks…” You smiled sheepishly, dusting your knees off before taking his hand as the two of you walked out of the bar and out the door, feeling the humid night air hit your faces as you stepped out into the warm darkness. You both headed for the Impala before driving back to the motel you were holed up in during the hunt. 

-

The second you made it through the door, Dean was all over you. He was holding you tight, pulling in before kissing you. You laughed, pulling away after his third kiss.

“Someone’s ancy, huh?” You cocked a brow, noting how his green eyes scanned all over your body while he held you close.

“Can’t help it. It was hot.” He mumbled lowly, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“What, how good I was on the bull?” You asked. 

“M-hm…” He hummed, the hand on your lower back inching lower and lower until it fell over the curve of your ass. 

“You’re such a horndog…” You smirked and rolled your eyes, but leaned into his touch. He slowly walked you backward until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. You fell backward, allowing him to climb over you until he was hovering above your face, his eyes obsessively roaming over you. He lowered his face down to yours and kissed you again, this time hungrier and more desperate. He slowly moved across your jaw, then down to your exposed neck and collarbone. You moaned softly as he sucked on your neck, his hands wandering down to the flannel around you and pulling at the fabric until it came off, taking his lips off you momentarily so he could pull your arms out of the sleeves. While you were still lifted a bit off the bed, he pulled the white tank off carefully over your head, leaving you in a white silky bra and low rise blue jeans. He also took that time to throw off his own shirt, and you had about two seconds to admire his built chest before he was back on your neck. He kissed and sucked and bit, making you whimper and reach up to clutch his short hair. He snaked his hands underneath your back and fiddled with the clasps of your bra until he successfully undid them, pulling the straps down and revealing your breasts. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful…” He murmured from your neck, slowly tracing his lips down the valley of your chest between your tits. His hands reached up to feel the soft, supple skin, calloused fingers occasionally pinching your nipples and rolling over the sensitive buds. You let out small whimpers that made him harden beneath you, bucking his hips into the mattress as he worked his way down your stomach. His occupied hands left your chest and wandered down to the waistline of your jeans, gently pushing them down your thighs and, with one swift tug, off your legs. He threw them to the side, focusing on the lace panties you had on. He practically groaned at the site of a wet spot in the middle, where you were worked up. He looked up to your yearning eyes for permission before you feverishly nodded your head in approval. You watched him pull at the thin fabric until you were left completely bare.

He wasted no time connecting himself to your core, tongue lapping at your clip. You moaned, hands practically flying to his short locks to stabilize yourself. He had to admit, you pulling on his hair and moaning so sweetly shortened his patience a bit. He was skillfully working your body, sucking and licking in all the right spots between your folds, hands moving to grasp your hips, keeping you pinned in one spot. You couldn’t help but roll them, though, pleasure coming in waves as he hit your sensitive bud over and over again. 

“D-Dean…” You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as you felt yourself nearing the edge. Without you finishing your sentence, he knew, and his unrelenting tongue carried you to your (quick) release. You shuttered, feeling your body tremble and thighs quiver as you came down, his face pulling away from you to reveal his stubble covered in slick. He smiled in a way that was downright devious, so smug that he knew how quickly he could make you come undone. Giving you time to recover, he pulled his pants off, allowing the denim to pool at his ankles before kicking them off, then releasing himself from his boxers. Your mouth all but watered at the sight of his cock, already pink and slightly glazed with precum. He pumped himself a few times before positing himself at your entrance, emerald eyes locking with yours with eager, but gentle, anticipation. 

“Breathe in for me, pretty girl.” He said, giving you time to collect your breath before pushing in. You whined, feeling him slowly fill you as to let you get used to the feeling. As his hips slowly pulled in and out, each movement turning pain into pleasure, you reached to grip his strong arms. He groaned lowly, feeling you tighten around him, his thrusts beginning to pick up the pace. 

“D…Dean..” You moaned, shakily tapping your finger against his arm.

His thrusts slowed slightly as he cautiously responded, “Yeah, baby?”

“Switch w’me.” You requested, an idea forming. He gave you a bit of a skeptical look, before pulling out and lying down beside you, a bit frustrated from the sudden separation. 

You climbed over him, and his eyes suddenly lit up as realization hit him all at once. You straddled his bare lap, hovering over his cock. Your hands felt up his toned chest, nails dragging across it slightly as you admired how handsome he looked under you. He fucking whimpered, which drove you crazy and reminded you why exactly you decided to take the lead. Your hands wandered back down to his dick, lining it up with your entrance before you slowly lowered yourself down on him. You and him both moaned at the feeling of being inside each other again, your hips rolling. Your eyelids fluttered shut, allowing yourself to focus on movement rather than giving in to the urge to collapse his broad chest. You slowly lifted your hips up, then down, then up, until you were in a steady rhythm of bouncing on his cock. He moaned, hands gripping your waist softly and helping guide you up and down. You whimpered and whined at the feeling of his length pumping in and out of you, your core strength starting to falter as you felt yourself getting closer. 

“I’m… fuck…” You could barely get a word out, breaths getting shallower and shallower as you focused on chasing your release. 

“Cum for me, babe…” He mumbled slowly, feeling himself also getting close as your walls tightened around him. You did, almost immediately collapsing on top of him, head falling to his collar as you faltered around him. Feeling you squeeze around his length, he came, hands grasping around your back as you laid on top of him. You smiled, feeling his rough palms slowly start to rub soothing circles on your back as you both recovered. 

“My pretty cowgirl…”

↳a/n: my writers block is SO BAD :( i promise i will try to get to all my requests asap! this was in fact not a request but like... something possessed me and i needed to finish this draft. thinking so much about dean rn... ughhhh

[bunny-jpeg]

⋆⋅☆max v. with a trans masc partner☆⋅⋆

max verstappen knew what he liked. while he usually put the front as a heterosexual man, he had always been a little more fluid about his sexuality outside of the limelight. he had kissed many men in his life as with women, even those who were neither men nor women. kissing was fun, sex was fun. and he wasn't going to limit himself to one set of tools to get the job down. a cock down the throat could be as delightful as sinking into a sweet pussy.

so it was more of a surprise for you to receive max's advances than it was for him to give them.

you remembered when you grandmother told you that she was concerned about you transitioning because you may "never find love" and you told her that it didn't matter. cars were your love, you didn't need a person to fill that gap. so when you met the three time world champion as the new mechanic for the 2024 season, you honestly didn't think too much about wooing him romantically.

but, max was wooed by you. especially when he saw that your lockscreen of your phone was a picture of your two cats, and when he brought up his cats, you just lit up. max liked that you treated him like he was a person. and you simply said, "mate, i'm pretty certain they don't let robots drive these cars." then slapped him on the back, "but i will make you bleed red if you total my car." then flashed him a smile.

you remembered the first time max kissed you. the dutch grand prix had been a total success and within the quietness of the garage post-race with the trophy max had won near by. he took you by the waist and kissed you. he'd later admit that he wanted to do it right on the track.

"do you kiss all your mechanics like that, verstappen?"

"no, only the ones who allow me to win." you two had spent almost the entire season bitching about red bull. max wondered if or when he eventually jumped teams, if he could take you with him. as he held you in his arms. chest to chest.

you admitted close to his ear, a little insecure, "i hope you know. i've built myself... i was born a girl, but became something more. different." then tried to pull back, fearful of his response. you weren't trying to trick him, you'd rather have it on the table.

but he pulled you back in, his blue eyes on you, "you act like i don't know what transgender people are, mechanic." he said as he leaned you back a little, to get a fuller look at you, "you act like i've never been to bed with one."

"i don't want to be a one night stand." you said, your hands on the front of his polo shirt. his hat long hit the floor in the heat of the kiss. you swallowed, "i won't be a toy, verstappen. i have too much respect for myself."

he chuckled, "that's what i like to hear." he held you around the waist and you kissed once more. he could feel the rise in his blood pressure. while you could've easily done it in the garage, max gave you the address of where he was staying and the lie to tell security.

the mechanics team were in another hotel, but if you wore your red bull branded uniform and had your mechanic's pass then you'd get in easily. they'd never suspect that you'd be intimate with the star of the team. and you did just that. even flashing a smile at security before you headed up to the elevator. they didn't even ask questions, which made your life easier.

you found max's room and he happily brought you in. but once the door was closed behind you. his strong arms were around you. he smiled at you, happy to see you. you carefully touched his face, part of you believed this was a strange dream after too many rum and cokes. but as you felt his facial hair under your hand, this was all painfully real.

"do you want this?" he asked.

you nodded and responded with a question of your own, "do you?"

his smile grew a little more, he leaned in closer to you. you only now realized how blue his eyes were, "since the moment i saw you come to the garage. you were more impressed with the car than with me... i found it endearing." he chuckled.

you held his face with both hands and gazed at him, "yeah, because it's a piece of shit car for a champion. it's like giving the king aluminum instead of gold."

he laughed before he leaned in for a kiss. you held his face close to yourself and you felt something bloom in your gut. eventually you got your worn sneakers kicked off and the jacket of your uniform off. it left you in a white t-shirt and max started to strip as well. you eyed his form and he eyed yours.

you felt his heated gaze linger on your chest for a moment and without thinking you crossed your arms across where your top surgery scars were. it was habit at that point.

max was in just his jeans and socks. he reached for your arms. feeling your warm under his palm as he carefully moved your arms away. he wanted to admire you, all of you.

"must've felt very different after the surgery." he said as he held your wrists, his eyes gazed on the fading scars. he was in no way to judge about scarring. at least yours were for something worthwhile, to change yourself in such a fundamental way, "was it scary?"

you shook your head, "no... i wanted to do everything afterwards. my doctor basically put me on bed rest because i was trying to push myself too hard. what was a four week recovery turned in seven."

he placed his hands on your flat chest and could feel the slight raise of the scars under his palms, "you push yourself too hard."

you swallowed, feeling the heat in your cheeks, "if you want to be the best. you have to do more than your best." your gaze met his. it felt so painfully intimate. this wasn't just sex in a hotel room, this was intimacy. max wanted more than your body, he wanted to know all the nooks of your soul and what inhabited them.

he leaned in once more, "we have that in common." before he kissed you once more. his kiss was sweeter, an assurance that you and your body were nothing to be ashamed of. if anything he admired it, even though he couldn't relate to the feelings you carried. he could at least understand the guts it took to go through it.

to become more than you what was given to you. it endeared you to him as you broke the kiss and continued to get undressed. the more of your bodies exposed to one another, the hotter the room got. even with the air conditioning rattling in the room. you could feel the heat between you two.

max sighed, "i don't have condoms... i can pull out or we can do something else." he explained as he got into the bed with you. both naked. his broad hand grazed across your body.

you responded and placed his hand on your lower abdomen, right before your pussy, "hysterectomy. six months before i started. are you clean though?"

he replied, "yes. been a long time since i've been with someone anyway." he was telling the truth. since you started at the season, everything had become a blur with you and the championship being a central focus.

his pointer finger trailed across the scar for a moment before he took your face in his hands and kissed you once more. you could go on about the shape of your face, but in his hands it felt very small. you hadn't realized that max verstappen had paws instead of hands. the thought made you giggle a little into the kiss.

he pulled away and looked at you before he laid you out on your back. he asked with a small smile, "what are you laughing about?"

you looked up at him and said, "didn't realized that formula one drivers had such big hands. every seen them up close like this before." then yelped a little when max grabbed you by the hips and pushed himself up against you.

he curved his back over you and maintained eye contact, those blue eyes were swimming with lust, "well. it's good you haven't seen others this close up. i might get a little jealous."

you looked away for a moment with a stupid grin on your face, "okay, flirt. why don't we get to it before i melt into this bed." then a soft moan left your lips as he rubbed his cock up against your wet cunt.

he admired you for a moment, hoping the image of your naked body stayed with him for weeks to come. you looked masculine. he wasn't going to say "technically" it's not having sex with a man. you were a man just as much as he was if not more. you had to create your manhood and you made it to perfection.

"i want you." you said softly.

he leaned forward and kissed you gently on the lips before he eased his cock into you. he replied with an equal softness, "i want you too, mechanic." the nickname made your ears hot as he moved against you. he thrusts were gently but gained a steady momentum.

you held onto the covers under your back and let him move against you. once you got a hold of his rhythm, you were able to meet his movements as well. the kisses you two shared grew hot as max planted both hands on either side of you and moved.

you two were moving against one another, locked in a heated kiss. the bed shifted slightly under your movements. max was thankful that were was not a bed on the opposite side of the wall. and that this place had enough insulation to keep your noises muffled.

the last thing he wanted was your integrity to come into question. that you only got to where you were because of your seductive ways. the noises between you two were soft. there was no need to rush, the race was over and tomorrow you'd be on the flight to the next one.

he took your hands and held them by your head, which kept you two close but also allowed him to keep you pinned under him. when you broke the kiss, you rested your forehead against his. the noises were harder to keep under wraps the more you moved. the pleasure felt like fireworks in your brain.

you moaned a little bit before you said, "i was thinking something stupid."

max chuckled his sweaty forehead against yours, "tell me."

"i realized what your eyes remind me of." you admitted softly, "i couldn't quite pin it after we met." you were breathing heavily as you locked your fingers further with his.

"and what do they remind of you?" he asked, curiously. he had heard people refer to them like the ocean, the sky after a store, the definition of blue.

you replied, "home. the lake near where i lived. not scary like the ocean. familiar like the lakes i grew up near."

max had no words, he simply laid another kiss on you. his hands grasped your tightly as you two moved together more. the pace quickened and max knew that he wanted to be in your life for a long period of time. he wanted you to be his home.

you moaned against the kiss, feeling the heat leap in your belly as you felt closer to orgasm. you came first with your lips against his. your back arched but your hands were pinned to the bed. it felt good as pleasure rushed to your brain.

max broke the kiss and continued to move against you. he let go of your hands in favour of your hips where he bounced your further against his cock. it made crackles of pleasure appear in your brain. and he was no better, his heavy breathing and occasional moan fueled his need to finish. and when he did, he did so inside of you. max never thought too much about the surgery you had, but he was thankful for it tonight.

he stayed inside of you for a moment as he cooled down before he left a kiss on the corner of your mouth. full of such tenderness as he pulled out of you and ran his fingers through his short hair.

you laid out next to him and heavily panting, feeling so vulnerable. he stayed closer to you, eventually pulling you to him and resting his chin on top of your head. you got comfortable against him.

"if you have any questions, i can answer them... about the whole trans thing." you swallowed, even now you felt embarrassed bringing it up. you felt it was a mood killer.

he took you by the chin and made you face him. he smiled down at you. he asked one question, "are you happy? did you get the life you wanted?"

you nodded in response, "everything and more." and that was enough for max. anything else you felt the need to tell him would be told with time, after all, max expected to be in your life for many years to come. both as his mechanic and lover.

-

max would only come clean about the relationship two years later. the end of his contract with red bull and a final championship was enough for the driver to retire peacefully. and when he retired, you retired and you made a home in monaco.

the coming out post set the internet ablaze. especially given how long you two had been together. wasn't anything too special, just a small collection of photos that he had taken over your time together. like the time you wore his helmet in 2025 with a big thumbs up. and that time you thoroughly messed up a birthday cake for him, and with the camera in your face, he rubbed the icing off your cheek. the one that really captured eyes was the one that a friend took of you at a house party when max came to visit your home country, with his legs over your strong lap and his lips against your face. you were smiling like the sun. being the center of a media storm was only braved with max by your side. at one point turning your phone off and throwing it onto the couch. his kisses were still loving as always, his words soft, and his affirmations of your gender were often so sweet that you'd cover your face in embarrassment.

you were always comfortable with the idea of not meeting your 'other half', you had been given a second chance at life once you came out. and if no one could accept you then so be it. but as you laid out on the couch laid out against your boyfriend with sassy at your side and your cat between the crook of your knee, you felt loved. <3

a/n: i do write for masc readers as well, both cis and beyond. just not as often because many request femme readers. but if an idea is cooking in your head. hit me with it!

[craske]

do you think there would be any future posibility for dejammed shmilk to grow fond of the younger cookies(ginger, wizard, strawberry, etc) and maybe his entertainer persona could come to play in showing them cool things or tricks?

the fucking giggle i let out when i read this ask. anon, you know me so well

anyway, a bit more of a serious answer, thats honestly one of main things that made me wanna start this au. i love character exploration, observing them under a microscope and putting them in situations (especially difficult or unusual to them personally) to see how theyd act.

i really want to put shilk through the horrors of regaining something that he lost a long time ago when he started corrupting. and now that he is basically a regular cookie again, he has the opportunity to interact with others. and the more he spends time with others, the more familiar everything becomes. the hostility and malice slowly melts when he actually realizes that teaching again, or trying to get a genuine laugh out of someone feels... good?

sharing his knowledge with the pink robot kid who soaks up all of it like a sponge and always wants to learn more, or teaching the self-taught wizard hat twerp some more complicated magics, or organizing a show that doesnt require tormenting people, instead providing them with actual fun times is a surprisingly nice change

and it only gets worse when the inevitable soft spot starts forming. oh the horrors, disgusting. all of this is temporary while they work towards a common goal. he cant have a funny feeling in his chest when children let out a genuine laugh, or when the little wizard gleefully manages to cast a difficult spell they both have been working on. unacceptable, stomp that feeling down into the ground and bury it

i wont say he mellows out that much though, i dont want for him to lose what makes him a fun character. plus itd just erase not only what he has done, but also what he experienced. i dont want it to be a total redemption and change of character, but at the same time... i just like the stories where villains/antagonists have to work with the protagonists for one reason or another, becoming begrudging allies and starting to actually bond (megamind or coach oleander and loboto, not to mention earlier ice king or dr nefarious and many other cases)

also, in case anyone wondered if it also includes the other beasts...

hehe

[rdr2gifs]

One of my favorite aspects of Arthur’s character is his curiosity and his non-judgmental nature. Even if they are people who are totally different from him he doesn’t judge and he is always intrigued by the unknown.

For example Jamie, having joined a cult and behaving quite foolishly, gave Arthur a lot of trouble. Despite this, Arthur chose not to ridicule him and instead comforted him and said that he cannot judge him because he doesn’t know how his life has been.

Even though Arthur hates big cities, civilisation etc. he is not judgmental towards a woman who comes from a wealthy family, who doesn’t know a thing about survival, who probably never had to work for a single thing in her life. Instead, he is encouraging and helps her be more confident in herself.

Albert Mason, who is totally helpless and who probably couldn’t survive 2 days in the wild couldn’t be more different from Arthur, yet Arthur respects him and likes helping him.

Some of my favorite wholesome encounters include Algernon Wasp, who wants to sell Arthur a corset and make him try on extravagant hats, which aren’t Arthur’s style at all. Arthur could be mean to him but instead he makes excuses to not disrespect his work and even lets him put on the hat after little persuasion!

Arthur is intrigued by the flamboyant Charles Châtenay and his mischiefs and helps him/spends time with him even if there’s no reward for him.

He helps a crazy scientist obsessed with creating his robot son, a crazy palaeontologist..he is obviously drawn to new/unfamiliar things. Even though he might find them weird at first he doesn’t mind and wants to know more about them.

Arthur also doesn’t seem to like physical affection much but I can remember at least 4 instances where he lets people hug him to comfort them even though it might be uncomfortable for him.

I genuinely think that for anyone to say that Arthur wouldn’t be accepting of people different from him, would be homophobic, transphobic, would kill you if you were near him, would be mean to you etc. have no understanding of him at all. Arthur treats people like they treat him and he doesn’t think he is in any position to judge how others live.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Bonus: if you manage to find “Bigfoot” and visit him for the second time he asks Arthur if he has missed him and Arthur is really awkward and doesn’t really know what to say so he says he also missed him haha

[artemisia-black]

Marge as a mirror for Petunia's class anxiety

Re-reading PoA for the billionth time (thank you insomnia), I found Marge and Petunia’s dynamic fascinating.

The few scenes of them together reveal much about their relationship. Marge, with her overbearing confidence and crass behaviour, embodies everything Petunia cannot afford to be: loud, unapologetic, and entirely unbothered by societal judgment. Petunia’s deference to Marge is not born of affection or respect but of necessity (a desperate bid to secure her tenuous position within the Dursley family and, by extension, the social status she clings to so desperately).

From the moment Marge strides into the Dursley home, the imbalance of power between the two women is clear. Marge ignores Harry entirely, treating him like a "hat stand," and greets Petunia with a brusque, physical dominance, "bumping her large jaw against Petunia’s bony cheekbone." This awkward, perfunctory exchange is far from a warm familial embrace; it is a collision of two bodies that reflects the transactional and hierarchical nature of their relationship. Marge’s large jaw (symbolic of her overbearing personality) contrasts with Petunia’s "bony cheekbone," underscoring Petunia’s fragility, both physical and social. This brusque greeting sets the tone for the rest of their interactions, where Marge’s dominance and Petunia’s submissiveness are repeatedly reinforced.

This dynamic becomes even clearer in the kitchen, where Marge’s dog, Ripper, disrupts the pristine order Petunia painstakingly maintains. Despite her evident dislike of animals (Harry observes her "wince slightly as tea and drool flecked her clean floor"), Petunia says nothing, allowing Ripper free rein. This small act of submission symbolises a broader pattern: Petunia is willing to sacrifice her comfort and preferences to maintain Marge’s approval. The scene illustrates how Petunia’s obsession with control and refinement crumbles in the face of Marge’s unapologetic intrusion.

The tension between Petunia’s forced refinement and Marge’s unapologetic crassness comes to a head during Marge’s final dinner:

"‘Aah,’ said Aunt Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. ‘Excellent nosh, Petunia. It’s normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after.’ She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach."

Here, Petunia’s exaggerated manners (such as sipping coffee with her "little finger sticking out") highlight her performance of refinement, a middle-class aspiration to maintain appearances. Marge, however, is wholly unconcerned with such performances. Her casual dismissal of Petunia’s elaborate dinner—"It’s normally just a fry-up for me"—strips Petunia’s efforts of their meaning. Marge’s behaviour (which includes "burping richly" and patting her stomach) is not a lapse in decorum but an expression of her confidence and entitlement. She does not perform respectability because she feels no need to prove it; her unbothered nature is tied to her place in Vernon’s family and the social hierarchy it represents. 

Petunia’s deference to Marge extends beyond hosting, reaching into darker territory: her complicity in Marge’s mistreatment of Harry. At Dudley’s fifth birthday party, Marge strikes Harry with her walking stick to stop him from beating Dudley at musical statues (an act of casual violence Petunia allows without objection). Years later, Marge gifts Dudley a "computerised robot" for Christmas while presenting Harry with a box of dog biscuits. These acts of cruelty are not merely expressions of Marge’s disdain for Harry but also tests of Petunia’s loyalty. By remaining silent, Petunia reinforces the household hierarchy and aligns herself with Marge and Vernon. Harry’s humiliation becomes a scapegoat for Petunia’s insecurities (deflecting attention from the precariousness of her own position within the family).

This dynamic reaches its sharpest expression during Marge’s comments about bloodlines:

"‘It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I’m not saying anything against your family, Petunia—I mean, your sister was a bad egg. But it’s no wonder Harry turned out the way he did, bad blood will out in the end.’"

The qualifier, "I’m not saying anything against your family," is transparently disingenuous (as Marge proceeds to disparage Lily directly). This backhanded insult cuts to the heart of Petunia’s anxieties. Marge’s comments about "bad blood" are not just an attack on Harry but a veiled critique of Petunia’s background (drawing attention to the very aspects of her identity she seeks to suppress: her connection to Lily and her working-class roots). Petunia’s silence here is significant. Rather than defending Lily or Harry, she aligns herself with Marge’s prejudices (prioritising her need to conform to Vernon’s family over her own familial bonds). This act of complicity underscores Petunia’s internalised shame and her desperation to distance herself from the parts of her identity that threaten her constructed respectability.

Ultimately, Petunia’s relationship with Marge highlights the fragility of her middle-class aspirations. Marge’s confidence and rejection of societal judgment starkly contrast with Petunia’s anxious performance of refinement (exposing the futility of her efforts to maintain control). Petunia’s silence, her meticulous hosting, and her complicity in Marge’s cruelty all reflect the deep insecurities that define her character. Beneath the brittle facade of china cups and polished floors lies a woman desperate to preserve a respectability that remains forever out of reach.

[sock-has-rock]

Why did robots suddenly become infinitely harder to draw recently? Anyway have some JazzProwl doodles (featuring cowboy hat!)

He's a cowboy now (thanks mum for putting a tiny cowboy hat into prowl)

[goddessficlover]

Alice In Gotham Pt 3

“Oh, it's such a lovely party tonight, Alice,” Hatter was overjoyed, gently dancing with Alice. Only twirling Danny gently, not to hurt him, treating him like a fragile flower. They had a small tea party, Hatter and his 2 Alice's. Now they were dancing the evening away, “Did you eat enough?”

“No, this body required more sustenance than the average human,” Danny’s soulless voice responded.

“Oh dear, then you must stop this dance and eat until your stomach is satisfied,” Hatter stopped the dance and March Hare returned with a fresh tray of small sandwiches, cut fruits, pastries, and other tea party foods. Alice began to eat slowly. Hatter was determined to keep his Alice alive and healthy for as long as possible, “Very good. When you finish your meal, go to bed. You need rest to recover. I still have two more people for you to invite. They will be guests of honor to celebrating you joining me.”

  Alice nodded and continued to eat silently. Hatter had began sending out his goons distract the Bats from his base. Nothing specific other than drawing their attention. Hatter had a larger table to invite their next guests tomorrow night. He needed more than one decoy Alice, lest Batman steal his porcelain doll.

—

“Bad news,” Oracle spoke up as the plan was starting to move into action, “Girls are starting to be kidnapped for their blue eyes. Good news, we have a lead on Mad Hatter's hideout since it's his goons taking them instead of Scraps. Which means he wasn’t in the botanical gardens so that trap is likely still there.”

  The sound of Red Hood cracking his neck and knuckles echoed in the wind and he geared up in one of his safe houses where he brought Scraps stuff. The fact that Scraps was no longer being spotted was more than worrying now that they knew what the kid's vitals looked like.

“Send me the coordinates,” Red Hood pulled on his helmet and left the safe house on his motorcycle. He had a set of buck teeth to punch out of a perverted redhead.

“Sending them now,” Oracle was heard aggressively typing on her keyboard, “How does the facial scan keep failing? I can't get anything on the kid. It's like they don't exist outside of 2 and half months ago. I still can't track their path home, they just disappear with their abilities.”

“That's the problem I've been having with Scraps. When we free ‘em from Hatter Imma set them up somewhere safe. Other kids said they have an accent and are weirdly nice. My guess it, they aren't from Gotham. We might be able to get ‘em home if they were stuck here for some reason,” Hood answered.

“Sounds like Mad Hatter erased that accent for now. Poor kid talks like a robot from the recordings we have,” Nightwing responded.

“Coordinates have been sent. Looks like a standard rescue mission for now,” Oracle spoke up again, “Robin, Spoiler, and Nightwing are clear for distraction. Orphan, Red Hood, and Red Robin will focus on rescue. Get Scraps and the other girls out of there.”

“We will,” Hood rode off into the night, following the location Oracle had sent him with less than legal driving.

“Tsk,” Robin responded, moving towards the coordinates. Unsatisfied in his role as distraction but  following orders regardless.

“There's a disruption nearby. Mad Hatter's goons are going wild,” Oracle spoke up, “It only just started and there aren't many.”

“Signal and I will manage the disruption,” Batman quickly readjusted the plan, “Everyone else, stay with the original plan.”

  Men in white rabbit hats were running around causing chaos as the members came closer. Nothing specific, or uniform. Some broke windows for the sake of breaking them. Others chased people, some stole, others shot their guns at random. They were being mind controlled but given no clear instructions. Some were putting masks over random civilians to increase their numbers. Others forcing bows onto women who began walking towards the same building. A hotel on the smaller side, all of the windows had been covered up. Following as planned: Spoiler and Nightwing made their entrance into the hotel known.

“Hello~ any rooms available tonight? I need a place to dream off to wonderland,” Nightwing burst in and sure enough, the entire hotel was filled with employees who all had tophats.

“That was terrible,” Spoiler commented as she quickly started taking hats off employees, freeing them and directing them to a space in the lobby to wait for police and medical.

“Yeah, not my best,” Nightwing responded as Robin moved past the lobby. 

Orphan, Red Hood, and Red Robin snuck in through the rooms on the top floor. Girls were asleep in the beds, but it was an unnatural sleep. They quickly removed the clips from their hair, destroyed the clips, and moved on, checking room after room. Only 8 rooms with 1-3 girls in each and 3 floors. Almost 40 women and girls were hostages, excluding the staff which were also being freed.

Outside, Signal was using the shadows as tangible tendrils to pull the masks and hats off hostages. Something wasn't right, it was too easy. Mad Hatter wasn't known to team up with other rogues often, but it was still a possibility.

“You are interrupting,” a familiar monotone voice appeared behind Signal. He turned to find Scraps, standing behind him.

“We can't let Hatter kidnap people and force them to do his bidding. How about you let me free you,” Signal tried again to grab the wig only for the shadow to be grabbed, frozen in a layer of ice and, shattered with only one hand, “Okay, didn't know you could do that.”

“Scraps is outside and engaging with Signal,” Oracle announced to the others.

“The tea party is tomorrow, please wait until then,” Scraps’ aura flared and began gathering in their chest and hands. Eyes completely ice blue and glowing, “You will only get one warning.”

“Sorry, but we have to crash the party. You need a hospital like yesterday,” Signal turned his vitals scanner on to check. Scraps’ vitals hadn't gotten better, but they weren't lower so they still had time. But their temperature was dropping even lower.

It took only a second but Signal was a distraction as Batman approached from behind with a meta suppression collar. Before he could put it around Danny's neck, he received a swift kick to his arm sending the collar flying and Batman back onto the asphalt.

“Scraps is getting aggressive,” Signal blocked, but was still sent back when a punch was aimed his way, “Add enhanced strength to the list.”

“Why the hell does this kid have so many powers?” Nightwing responded.

“Ice manipulation, floating, invisibility, density shifting, and enhanced strength? We need to keep this kid on our side,” Red Robin commented as he hacked into all the security cameras of the hotel, “Eyes on Hatter, he's in the basement.”

“Dibs!” Red Hood began racing Orphan down to the basement, leaving Red Robin and the distraction team to deal with the hostages' release to the police. Most were still in their civilian clothes, it was a good sign, they had acted early into Hatter's plan.

Outside, Batman's cape was frozen to the street, the collar which had been discarded was picked up by Alice and examined. It was only for a second, but their normally blue eyes flashed green. The collar was snapped in half at the hinge and frozen into a block of ice before it was tossed aside. Vibrant blue eyes turned to Batman who had unclasped his cape to continue the fight. Spears of ice were fired his way, each one missed would either penetrate the ground or dissolve before hitting a civilian. One lucky shot struck Batman's side as a civilian prevented him from fully dodging.

“So, that meta collar just pissed off Scraps,” Signal announced, noticing the kid had just gotten way more aggressive than they were before. Still, not once did they hit another civilian. They had such control over their power to only target Signal and Batman. They somehow managed to keep surrounding destruction from their ice attacks to a minimum.

“They've clearly had experience fighting,” Batman didn't even need to bandage the wound. There was a layer of frost keeping him from bleeding out, “Not a single casualty has been caused by Scraps.”

“That's odd. Hatter has never cared about casualties unless it involved a particularly favorable hostage. This could mean the mind control isn't as complete as we thought. Tetch is known for killing his Alices’ yet he's kept Scraps much longer than usual, probably because of their meta abilities,” Oracle reviewed the information they had gathered, “Batman you were hit by a spear and that section of your suit reads its colder.”

“Hm. They covered the wound with frost at the moment of impact. Not as cold as other ice samples Red Robin has observed but enough to keep the pain and bleeding at bay. They don't want to hurt us, even if Hatter is forcing them to attack,” Batman responded, “Your theory seems accurate Oracle, Mad Hatter doesn't have full control over them.”

Signal was off catching the last of the mind controlled civilians outside while Batman continued to try and catch Scraps. He wasn't slowed down much with his injury thanks to the frost. It was when they had backed up, closer to the hotel that the fight became more challenging. Signal rejoined the fight to weaken Alice in order to get the wig off them. Scraps startled by a mist of blue escaping their lips before looking around, then down. It was faint in his mind controlled state but Danny felt it. Rage- protect- children in danger- protect- angry! It stirred a part of him as his core wanted to respond to the undead it felt nearby.

  Using the distraction Signal caught Scraps in his shadows, Batman attempted to cuff Scraps only to find the kid had slipped out of their grasp again and gotten behind him and struck hard enough to knock Batman unconscious. Though it would only be temporary.

“Enough,” Scraps encased Duke’s arms in frost and grabbed the same cuffs Batman was attempting to put on them before. With Duke handcuffed, the fight was over. Grabbing both vigilantes by their suits, Scraps dragged them both back into the hotel before sinking them into the basement where they were met with another battle. One Mad Hatter was losing, and becoming desperate. The last of his goons and about 5 other Alice hostages were in the fight. Hatter had a busted lip and his buck teeth were now one broken tooth and a gap, courtesy of Red Hood.

  No one noticed their sudden appearance in a secluded area. Nightwing lead the freed hostages out towards the main floor. Red Hood and Robin were focused on disarming the goons. Spoiler and Red Robin focused on the hostages. Where was Orphan?

“Remain quiet and I won't have to tape your mouth shut,” Scraps whispered, too low for Duke’s active com to pick up. 

  Signal nodded, he needed to focus on picking the lock on the cuffs and freeing himself from the ice. He would only distract the others if he called out now. He observed instead. Scraps didn't behave like a mindless zombie anymore. Not to mention their aura was starting to flicker brighter than before. It had happened so suddenly outside. That blue mist caused their entire aura to flare bright enough to temporarily blind him. Signal’s eyes were still recovering, but he could tell it was flickering. Something was going on, and their behavior was changing. Scraps reached… into their chest?! -And pulled out a metal tool box with a green cross on it. It read first-aid underneath. They opened it and pulled out latex gloves after removing the ones they were wearing before. There were some odd silver bracelets with a green stripe on each wrist below the white gloves. Where they a part of the mind control tech? Did those need tk be removed? Scraps sterilized their hands, a needle, and Batman’s wound after removing the frost. It was slow to bleed, the frost had been helping it clot and prevented swelling.

“What are you doing?” Signal asked quietly, observing as Scraps thread the needle and began stitching Batman’s wound without any form of anesthetic.

“Batman requires first aid. I am providing it,” they answered, already half way done. Their stitches were neat, and the wound was hardly bleeding. Not to mention they worked almost as fast as Alfred! Batman wasn't responding to the feeling. The cold must have completely numbed the area or he was out colder than Signal thought he was.

“Why?” Signal began an interrogation as quietly as he could with the fighting on the other side. Still, they spoke loud enough that his com was picking it up.

“I know how. And I had supplies,” Scraps was answering questions. That wasn't something they'd ever done before. The control was slipping.

“Why do you know how?” Duke knew Scraps was too young to have ever studied medicine. They only looked 13 at the oldest, but they also looked malnourished. These stitches were done perfectly, something from lots of practice.

“I have to.”

“Scraps,” he was free from the hand cuffs and caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows, “Why do you have to know?”

“...” They stopped responding and simply packed away the first aid supplies after wiping the blood off their gloves on the apron and setting the bloodied gloves into a pocket. Now that he caught a glimpse inside, there were way too many glowing materials and tools in that first aid kit. Scraps shoved the kit back into their chest and stood.

“Noo!” Mad Hatter shouted, “You're ruining everything!”

“You're mind controlling innocent civilians for your own enjoyment. As if we would agree to allow that to continue,” Robin snarled as  he captured Hatter and cuffed him.

“No, where is she? Where is she? Alice!” Hatter called, Scraps followed the shout quickly, leaving Signal and Batman behind. Hatter gave a nasty grin as his perfect Alice approached with red blood on her apron. That put everyone on edge except Hatter, “Alice, stop them! They'll destroy our tea party. We need them alive to celebrate.”

“Leave the civilians out of this,” Robin growled as he secured Hatter in favor of rejoining the fight.

 Duke was the only one to notice the snowball appear in Danny’s hand. It had an eerie green light inside it. He was still stuck in ice but he could look a few seconds into the future. He was struck with a migraine as a bright light burst into view. 

  The snowball was tossed in the air, it drew everyone's attention. An innocent snowball tossed up carelessly. The snow sparkling in the basement lights as it reached the center of the room.

“GET DOWN!” is shouted just as a green light bursts through the snow and shards of ice scattered across the entire room. The shards shattered on impact, only leaving a small scratch, the problem was the frost growing from each hit. It left a 5in area on the body or surface stiff and immobile. The frost covering the hostages quickly melted as the explosion came to an end. They were completely unharmed. Hatter, oddly, wasn't untouched like the hostages. Hatter’s legs were frozen and stuck to the gound, he'd been hit with the most frost out of everyone.

“Was that a fucking ice grenade?!” Red Hood was both amazed at that and also hated that he was on the other end of it.

  Ice was coating the floor in patches. The inconsistent surface would make fighting more difficult. Duke and Batman were covered in snow instead of frost. The automatic heaters regulating their temperature noticed the cold and turned on. Duke was having no luck escaping the ice, even in his shadows.

“Signal, report,” Red Robin ordered as he noticed Signal and Batman had been captured.

“Scraps got fed up in the fight and took Batman in a single blow. Then provided him with first aid. Something drew their attention in the fight. A blue mist came out of their mouth and it caused their aura to flare. It started glitching after that. I think the mind control device is starting to fail. They'll answer some questions but not all of them. Scraps is becoming more independent. You might be able to talk them down at some point,” Signal reported, still focusing on getting out of the ice. The repeated flashes from looking at Scraps was giving him an unbearable migraine. He couldn't help much like this, so he's guarding B instead.

“I hope that wig is malfunctioning. This has been one of the most annoying cases with Hatter because of Scraps’ powers,” Red Robin sighed, “I'm going to try remotely hacking into the device. You guys keep Scraps from disrupting me and try and get either a collar or cuff on them to try and grab the wig anyway.”

“If we can even get fucking close,” Red Hood growled through his modulator, something about the pit felt weird. It was making him angry, but when kids were being taken hostages any one of the Bats would be angry. What was weird was the pit was also yelling at him to keep Scraps close, they were needing protection. They were a baby- Why a baby? They're at least like 13? Why do they feel baby?

  It happened again. As Red Hood approached while the others continued to deal with the hostages. Alice hadn't really moved after the snowball grenade. A blue mist escaped their lips and they turned to see Red Hood, who's eyes were green but not hostile. Scraps tilted their head, it was less subtle than it was before.

“Undead?” That caught everyone's attention, Scraps had just called out Red Hood's undead status.

“How do you know that?” Red Hood growled again, noticing the green in his vision.

“Littlewing,” Nightwing jumped between them, “Deep breaths, you're looking kinda green. We don't know anything about Scraps, we don't know specifically what that means for them.”

“I know that,” Hood snapped, backing up from Scraps a bit and taking some breaths to calm down.

“Hey now, how about we get that wig off of you, Scraps? Blonde is not really for you,” Nightwing reached out but didn't step closer.

“Alice what are you doing, fight the-mph!” Orphan had gagged Hatter and gave a thumbs up to Red Hood and Nightwing.

“Understood,” Scraps took an offensive pose. Their eyes kept glancing towards the escrima sticks on Nightwing’s back. Their scarred left hand trembled slightly. It was then that Red Hood, Orphan, and Robin felt a sensation of awake?- Where?- scared! 

“Empath?” Orphan called out, missing the wig as Scraps turned intangible.

“Feels like it,” Red Hood responded.

“I don't feel whatever you guys are feeling,” Nightwing dodged a punch and tried grabbing Scraps only for them to dodge again, “The density shifting is a real pain-Agh!”

 Scraps knocked back Nightwing and Red Hood into creates nearby. A sheet of ice suddenly appearing on Hood's back kept them from being seriously hurt. It disappeared just as quickly. Robin was next to go after Scraps. They exchange blows, dodging each other mostly. It was then that Robin decided using his sword may be the best choice when Scraps started using small arrows of ice against him and other Bats within range. The ice only left small cuts in their armor but it continued to spread frost on contact. Watching as Robin deflected arrows with his sword, Scraps took a different stance. A sword of ice appearing in their right hand, and a smaller shield in their left.

“No fucking way,” Red Hood would recognize that fighting stance of his favorite Justice League Member anywhere.

“Finally, someone who can go against my blade,” Robin smirked and their swords wasted no time colliding.

“Are we seriously fighting a meta Amazonian right now?!” Nightwing groaned, pushing broken wood of the crates off him and Red Hood, “Great, we're fighting someone with no convenient weakness.”

“Okay well we're not doing Batman's contingency plan for Wonder Woman, that would kill Scraps,” Oracle spoke up through coms, “We do have the possibility that she has a weakness to electricity if her reaction to Nightwing's weapons are anything to go off of.”

“I don't want to electrocute a kid,” Nightwing groaned as he got up with a wince. His ribs were bruised but not unbearable. Red Hood was in similar shape.

“Robin might be able to tire them out- Oracle did you switch to she/her for Scraps?” Red Hood watched as the sword fight continued and the last of the hostages were just about free.

They were sword fighting while Alice not only dodged Orphan’s grabs at them but also stray bullets being shot around the room. The fact that Alice was mostly unharmed aside from some tears in the dress’s frilly skirt only displayed what a good battle sense they had.

“I was thinking more she/they. Only women live on Themyscira and can learn the fighting style. Men are strictly forbidden. But it's weird, Wonder Woman said there are no children on Themyscira. So someone had to have trained Scraps outside of Themyscira or brought them in. It looks like she's been learning the fighting style for a long time If they're keeping up with Robin.”

“Red Robin, how's hacking going?” Nightwing moved to help keep stray ice shots and bullets off Red Robin. Spoiler needed to focus more on civilians.

“I've managed to sabotage all of the other wigs in this building except for 10 of them. They're signals are jammed so close together and something is keeping me from shutting them down the same way. I'm trying what I can, but I don't know which one of these is controlling Scraps,” Red Robin answered, angrily typing away at his wrist computer, “Oracle can you use my position to isolate the chip controlling Scraps?”

“Working on it now,” Oracle could be heard typing away in their coms as the fight between Robin and Scraps continued. So far, it seems Scraps was able to back Robin closer to an isolated spot. His beloved sword was half coated in frost along with a part of his torso. Spoiler only had 2 hostages left to free, both with guns. She threw 2 batarang to disarm them before grabbing the rabbit helmets off them.

It was only a second, the batarang flew towards the wall after disarming the hostage. It hit, at an -oh so convenient- ricochet. To hit Danny. A blonde chunk of hair was on the ground as the battle suddenly halted between him and Robin. It grazed his cheek and the blade was stopped by the diadem under the wig; it had only cut a third through the band. Just a little interference… A white gloved hand touched the cut to see green blood. It was corrosive and slowly eating at the cloth glove. He reached up and pulled the batarang out of the diadem with little effort and examined it. Danny could sense a familiar energy from it. 

  Robin had frozen. A stray batarang had just landed in the head of the hostage they had been trying to save. They were dead- or not? There was no more than a small smear of… blood? It was green, and glowed a little, and so did the cut on their skin. It was their blood. Scraps was not human… That didn't matter, Robin still needed to free Scraps and get them somewhere safe. Mad Hatter needed to be locked up in Arkham, though Robin always thought that was too light a punishment for him. 

  Robin was able to get closer while Scraps was focused on the batarang. Examining it with calculating eyes. The wig now had an uneven cut, but it revealed that the wig wasn't the problem. Getting close enough to grab them, Robin did so. Scraps’ eyes were flickering, bright blue, to dim blue, and an occasional flash of what had to be green. Lazarus pits… No, their blood was also green, do not draw conclusions without all the evidence. Robin could get a sample at least. He snuck a vial from his utility belt and touched it to the cut, getting a small gush of blood and seeing the metal band which had been cut partially. Scraps hadn't moved, frozen into a deep stare… Taking advantage, Robin used a solvent to melt the wig glue and remove it. Revealing the band to everyone along with fluffy and matted black hair. Then the band sparked from the cut.

That seemed to have snapped Scraps out of their daze as they grabbed Robin’s arm and covered him in a net of ice that kept him from moving again before jumping back. 

“RR, I don't think you'll like this,” Oracle spoke up, “Three of the chips are flickering in and out of function but it looks like all ten of them are on Scraps.”

“Fuck,” Red Robin cursed as he was having the same result on his screen, “It must all be in that band around their head. Nightwing-”

“Yeah, I know,” Nightwing took a breath before splitting off from Red Robin.

  Spoiler had tried approaching Scraps in the meantime. The ice sword had disappeared along with the shield. It was a short fight, one where Scraps was clearly distracted, and still, it ended with Spoiler frozen in an ice net, much like Robin. Red Robin would have jumped into the fight next, but found he'd been frozen to the beam he was perched on. Red Hood found his boots had been frozen to the ground. It was up to Nightwing and Orphan.

Scraps jumped away as Nightwing got close again, it was obvious they were avoiding fighting them. Red Hood, Robin, and Orphan felt it again can't stop- don't fight- help- hurts- hurts- please…

“Tsk!” Scraps flinched as the diadem sparked.

“Four chips are offline,” Oracle reported, “A fifth started flickering.”

“Come on , Scraps. Lets get that off you,” Nightwing slowly approached, “You don't want to fight, right?”

“... … no…” their voice was just above a whisper. Their real voice, with that slight midwestern accent. Another spark made them flinch.

“Right,” Nightwing gave a soft smile as he reached out a hand.

  Scraps eyes still flickering between blue and green. They moved quickly, past Nightwings hand and grabbed one of the escrima sticks. Jumping back again, Scraps stood on a defensive stance, trembling left hand holding onto the taser end. Red Hood couldn't focus as all he felt from Scraps was scared-hurt-stop-resistresistresist! 

“Nightwing,” Red Hood spoke up, the feelings from Scraps were starting to become overwhelming. Stop me- please- gonna hurt- hurting- please… “They want you to do it…”

“It's gonna kill them…”

“... Sh… ort… cir-cuit… please…” Scraps was flickering, internally fighting between avoiding the pain and being intangible and being solid to take the shock, “...I’ll… be… … o…kay… …”

With a shaky breath Nightwing leapt forward and activated the stick before Scraps could shift away. It was the worst scream that had erupted from them. A wave of pain!- painpain! - dying- hit every one of the bats. The windows cracked and the lights flickered out, a few bursting sending sparks and hot glass over them.

It went on, mostly because Scraps refused to let go. It was a full minute before the lock on the band shorted out and it slipped off. Hitting the ground as Scraps fell. Orphan was quick to catch them, they were unconscious now.

“That was terrible,” Nightwing sighed. He had just zapped the kid they were trying to save. The kid who already had dangerously low vitals.

“The frost is weaker now,” Robin had finally broken himself free from the cold prison.

“My head is killing me,” Signal, free from the ice and snow, managed to get Batman to wake up.

“Batman, Mad Hatter has been apprehended and the hostages have all been freed. Scraps still needs medical attention,” Nightwing was the quickest to recover, but that scream was still haunting him. His focus now was making sure Scraps didn't die.

“What was that?” Red Robin rubbed the sides of his head as he was freed from the beam. Ice all around the room was defrosting. Slippery surfaces were disappearing, not even puddles of water left behind.

“Empath,” Orphan answered, running her fingers through Scraps's hair, “Felt their pain.”

“Let's just get the kid some medical attention,” Red Hood stood closer to Scraps. He couldn't feel anything apart from the quiet humming of hurts- in pain- free- comfort… as Orphan continued to gently pet Scraps. They seemed comfortable with the touch, for now.

“I'll grab a spare outfit for them,” Spoiler left, she had a less bubbly mood than usual.

“Hm,” Batman grunted, as the team started to split up again. His head was still throbbing, he likely had a concussion. Signal and Red Robin left to fill in with the police, but not before grabbing the diadem for examination later.

  For now, the fight was over and all that was left was the clean up here and at the Botanical Gardens.

~~~

Master List

Part 2

Part 4