#Grid Paper for Learning

[astonmartinii]

but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others

carlossainz55: never forget where you came from

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user100: insert cricket noises here

user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?

user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry

landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)

carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win

landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(

carlossainz55: i'm an only child

landonorris: oh-

user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn

user104: that's so unbelievably fucked

user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER

user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one

yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride

carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you

yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them

carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?

yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family

carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back

yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water

carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you

yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!

user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING

user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP

user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house

maxverstappen1: ugly twins

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said

carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her

maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have

user109: OOP

user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary

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user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf

user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her

user116: i'd abandon my family for that face

yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it

charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight

yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator

pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever

charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?

pierregasly: apparently!

yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(

charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me

yourusername: that's my job 🤨

pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves

user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation

oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?

user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?

oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway

user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do

user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points

maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for

yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this

maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track

maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf

yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy

carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)

yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide

maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN

maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you

carlossainz55: i am better than charles

yourusername: lying is a sin

maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell

user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting

user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again

user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in

user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others

tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55

f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!

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user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it

user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh

oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name

yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you

oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit

user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1

user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race

maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!

user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen

maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!

user128: why the fuck were the last two there?

georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓

alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey

yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie

georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!

alexalbon: he's not

georgerussell63: i'm not

user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together

user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop

alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n

user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama

carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well

yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe

carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore

yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?

carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't

oscarpiastri: suck my dick

yourusername: now that's true poetry

user132: oH!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri

yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go

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user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid

user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause

oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on

yourusername: oh dibs on ring master

logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking

yourusername: okay yes skinny legend

maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe

maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters

charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty

yourusername: and you would be the best at it

oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one

user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?

user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that

charles_leclerc: 🤨

carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant

yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...

carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it

logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)

yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?

yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie

carlossainz55: i have friends?

yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference

carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it

yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?

yourusername: QUICKLY.

fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me

user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio

user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again

charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever

maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog

yourusername: boy do i have news for you

carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him

yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first

charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to

user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us

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user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog

user143: glow up of the century some might say

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism

charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3

maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION

yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?

maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey

yourusername: girl are WE good?

maxverstappen1: no

yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY

charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here

user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions

maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man

yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image

maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS

user145: max will nawt let this go

maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived

yourusername: GIRL

maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz

olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure

charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY

yourusername: no he actually is he's crying

charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones

olliebearman: it's okay i swear

charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER

carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free

olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness

user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my

olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail

yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?

user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON

user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination

user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family

oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)

yourusername: the best way to be

charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)

oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando

yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well

oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: first mother's day with my boys

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user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it

user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section

charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children

yourusername: only the best with you :(

charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user152: they're so fucking cute

user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months

user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)

oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx

yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie

danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?

yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...

danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him

user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine

oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz

yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members

user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck

oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it

maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?

charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids

maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND

charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨

yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can

charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?

yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get

charles_leclerc: oh :(

user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing

carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.

yourusername: you done?

carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me

yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?

carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to

yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you

user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money

yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!

user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN

fin.

note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx

ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

This may be a silly question… but I’m an artist trying to learn backgrounds. I’ve studied perspective until my hands fell off, but I don’t know how to choose an angle or not make things look wonky. I’ve tried asking a lot of artists, but I’m hoping to hear more than “just draw backgrounds”, because I have been, but I’m not improving.

Do you have any tips on how to practice?

The anonymous ask is much more recent but it reminded me of another ask from @cerealssoggies i forgot to answer thats, OOF... gotten old. Sorry about that. I'll answer your ask more directly at the end of this.

I'll talk about the perspective ask first. Anon... I'll answer your question as best as I can!

I think what makes perspective tricky is the beginning, when you're using perspective lines and grids and such to map out the picture. Because the actual technique of 2 point perspective isn't hard or complicated, it's getting the scene to look the way it does in your head thats tricky. I'm talking about the metaphorical "camera" location, angle, and... idk, focal length? If I'm using that phrase correctly.

So you can draw something like a simple square bedroom, and by the time you're done placing your horizon line, vanishing point, and perspective lines, and actually start drawing, you realize it doesn't look like how it does in your head. And from there, it's hard or nearly impossible to move things around to look like your vision, so you'll be tweaking each thing individually: uhh, let's move the horizon line down, the left vanishing point further? The right one closer? Both further? Huh??? And it's frustrating.

I've found, if you're drawing an environment from your imagination, the best way to start is to draw an teeeeny tiny thumbnail sketch. The smaller the better. Not just environments, but any drawing idea is easier to map out when it's smaller. Your brain can latch onto the visual as a whole when it's all tiny on a piece of paper.

Drawing my current blog header, the one of ford's research tent, I had a similar pickle. I knew exactly where I wanted the camera to be, in the corner of the tent, and I knew I wanted the camera to be more wide, so you could see most of his tent while keeping the feeling that it's small. I started digitally with perspective lines and quickly got frustrated. SO - I took to my sketchbook and thought reeeeeally hard about what it looked like in my head, and tried mapping it out in a tiny tiny thumbnail. Here's what that looked like:

This was closer to what I wanted than what I first had on my computer. I knew from there that I wanted the furniture items to be closer together and the camera higher (you can see my scribble writing saying this), so I scanned my thumbnail, and drew on top of it to get closer to the vision. Then, from there, I was able to add a proper perspective grid based on what I had already drawn.

THEN you can finally get down to the fun part - actually populating your room with furniture and details. I put this sketch on paper and did most of the real drawing traditionally:

In summary: instead of jumping straight into perspective theory, thumbnail the idea as rough as you can. Then base the angles of the perspective lines on your thumbnail.

But.... even still, I don't have the strongest ability to picture things mentally, and not everyone is gonna be able to do that (although it is a good muscle to exercise.) Sort of a segue into the second ask - those backgrounds of dibs car? I straight up traced over pictures I took of my car. I'm not the biggest advocate for tracing, it does kind of feel like cheating, BUT for the purposes of this animation? There's no point in getting on a high horse. I needed to draw his car like 10 times and there was no reason to torture myself. I did photoshop some of the photos before I drew over them because the focal length made the car look bigger than I wanted it to? And a lot of it was guessing what the car looked like behind the front seats, etc.

But this does remind me of an exercise I did in school for an illustration mentorship class. The mentor for one unit was a set designer working for Netflix. She was given photos of a room that a scene would be shot in, and she drew the set on top of it: like furniture, decorations, etc. So my assignment was to choose a stock photo, and do some world building concept art based on the photo. From the photo, you can figure out the perspective by identifying lines/angles that theoretically lead to a vanishing point. You need at least two lines, and you extend them really far and see where they cross. Where they meet is a vanishing point. Find two vanishing points and they are level with the horizon line. Then use the perspective dots you just found to draw furniture, items, and you can even get creative and change the shape/height/size of the rooms/buildings/etc, while still using the same perspective.

If an image from the internet feels too much like cheating (it SHOULDN'T, you'll only learn from it and your drawing won't look anything like the image by the time you're done), you can always take your own photos. This technique is honestly what made me enjoy drawing backgrounds in the first place. It made it fun! And drawing should be fun.

I still do this sort of thing today. Here's the reference picture I had my sister take of me for my Fairy godmother illustration. (This is from a couple years ago.) I drew on top of it in photoshop to get my best guess as to the lines and angles. I didn't trace this one, but I did use it very heavily for reference!

So I guess... to summarize both techniques, don't jump right into perspective. Best way to start, that's fun and not wildly frustrating, is to use a photo. If your vision is hyper specific, start from a tiny thumbnail and work your way up. Then the fun part!! Populating the scene with furniture and items and fun little details.

To answer @cerealssoggies question more directly: omg, thank you?? :O💞 I'm always so wowed when people talk about my prints and where they put them. I'm really glad you like the fairy godmother one! My mom also has one hung up in her room lol!

My advice on the design front isn't as specific, because that always felt like the easy part. Once you have the room or whatever mapped out, it's just about drawing all the Stuff. Which for me usually means getting in the head of the character and asking myself what sort of things they'd have around themselves and their environment. And obviously if the setting isn't a characters room/personal environment like the previous three examples, then you'd just have to think about what the environments purpose is, and what sort of stuff would be there. When I'm thinking about a background before I draw it, I'll ask myself what items or features it will have. For the ford tent, I made a list of all the stuff I thought he might have in there (I googled winter camping trip packing lists, as well as science-y tools and gadgets). For dibs car, I asked people on tumblr for suggestions as to what I should put in there.

And look up references! Reference is always a good thing.

In real life, I'm a maximalist and a clutterbug. This bleeds into my drawings - I like it when an environment feels full and lived in.

Here's my bedroom lol.

WELL typing and compiling this took up a greater portion of my Friday but I really hope this was helpful to you and others!!

[its-avalon-08]

would you consider writing a Raikkonen or Vettel reader x grid, where she’s a lawyer w the same fierceness as her brother, and the drivers get into media trouble and she goes all harvey specter on the problem and leaves the drivers speechless/ scared/ impressed/ proud etc. thank you for considering this love your work!!!

objection bitch

✦ pairing - f1 grid x female!lawyer!vettel!reader

✦ genre - all fluff

The FIA had crossed the line. Again. In a shock to nobody.

A new rule had come into place penalizing drivers for swearing in post-race interviews and the race. Ridiculous. Absolutely fucking ridiculous. The grid was in an uproar, but no one had the power to do anything about it. No one except Y/N Vettel.

If there was one person who could go toe-to-toe with the FIA and emerge victorious, it was her. A formidable lawyer, sharp as a blade, and just as relentless as her brother, Sebastian Vettel, in a fight. The drivers had learned long ago not to underestimate her. But this? This was war.

And Y/N was ready as ever.

“What are they gonna do? Fine us for every ‘shit’ or ‘fuck’ we let slip?” Lando scoffed, shaking his head as he, Charles, and Max sat in a conference room waiting for Y/N.

“They already have,” Carlos muttered, tossing a paper on the table. This was unacceptable. How were the drivers not allowed to CURSE? Were they toddlers?!

Y/N entered the room with a folder in hand, slamming it down with a force that made George sit up straighter. “Alright, let’s get one thing straight,” she began, voice crisp. “This rule is unconstitutional, violates multiple freedom of expression precedents, and is fundamentally stupid.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Hamilton said with an approving nod.

Y/N continued, eyes glinting. “The FIA is overstepping. Swearing is not slander, it is not defamatory, and it is not harming anyone except for some pearl-clutching bureaucrats who think drivers should be robots. I am filing a formal challenge.”

“A lawsuit?” Charles asked, eyebrows raised.

“A lawsuit,” Y/N confirmed, leaning forward. “We will argue that this rule is vague, arbitrary, and restricts free speech. We’ll also highlight that no other sport enforces such nonsense. If footballers can scream expletives mid-match and not get fined, why should you?”

Daniel Ricciardo grinned. “You are actually my hero.”

Max, arms crossed, smirked. “This is going to be fun.”

It was finally courtroom day.

The FIA’s lawyers sat across from Y/N, already shifting uncomfortably in their seats. She was poised, calm, and radiating pure authority. Dressed in an all black ensemble she looked like she ate losers for breakfast.

The lead FIA attorney cleared his throat. “Ms. Vettel, the FIA merely wishes to maintain a professional environment in post-race interviews for viewers.”

Y/N tilted her head, her smile sharp. “Define ‘professional,’ then. Because as far as I know, passion is part of the sport. Swearing out of frustration, joy, or sheer adrenaline doesn’t harm anyone. If anything, it makes drivers more relatable. Unless, of course, the FIA prefers that they all sound like pre-programmed AI.”

Murmurs from the audience. The drivers, seated together in the back, exchanged smirks.

“Furthermore,” Y/N continued, “this rule is selectively enforced. Are you prepared to produce data showing that every instance of swearing has caused a dip in viewership or complaints? Or will I have to subpoena past race interviews to prove bias?” (guys im sorry I googled most used lawyer terms so idk if its correct or not)

The FIA’s lawyers hesitated.

Y/N leaned in. “Let’s talk precedents. In 2019, the Court of Arbitration for Sport ruled that sports organizations cannot impose arbitrary speech restrictions unless they are justified by legitimate concerns. Tell me, gentlemen, what legitimate concern does the FIA have?”

The lead attorney fumbled with his papers.

Y/N smirked. “Nothing? Thought so.”

She turned to the judge. “We are requesting an injunction on this rule, as it is vague, inconsistently enforced, and lacks merit. We also seek damages for the fines already imposed.”

The judge glanced at the FIA’s team. “Do you have a counterargument?”

Silence.

Carlos leaned over to Charles. “She’s terrifying.”

“I know,” Charles whispered. “It’s bloody amazing.”

The ruling came swiftly. The swearing fines were scrapped.

The drivers were ecstatic. In celebration, Daniel made it his mission to curse as colorfully as possible in his next interview, just because he could.

Y/N received a round of applause when she walked back into the paddock that weekend. Max, standing off to the side, simply smiled. “Proud of you, schat.”

She nudged him playfully. “You should be. I’m basically the FIA’s worst nightmare now.”

Max grinned. “Oh, you definitely are.”

And she loved it.

Later that night, the drivers sat around in the paddock lounge, laughing as Lando held up his phone, Sebastian's name glowing on the screen.

“Do it, do it!” Charles urged, barely holding back his grin.

Lando hit the call button and put it on speaker. The dial tone rang before Sebastian picked up. “Lando?”

“Seb!” Lando beamed. “Mate, your sister is an absolute legend.”

Sebastian chuckled. “I assume she won?”

“Won? She obliterated them,” Daniel chimed in. “I’ve never seen FIA lawyers look like they wanted to evaporate before today.”

“She literally made them speechless,” George added. “It was… kind of scary.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically. “And to think, I used to help her with her homework.”

“You should be honored, mate,” Max teased. “Your sister might be more feared in F1 than you were.”

Sebastian groaned, but they could hear the pride in his voice. “Don’t tell her that, or she’ll never let me live it down.”

Lando grinned. “Too late.”

[oh-obrien]

GRID ACE 0.2

GAMER READER X Lestappen SMAU

Summary: Reader is a Red Bull e-sports athlete who happens to catch the attention of two particular drivers with her streams

PART TWO BABY WOOT WOOT. I've never seen anyone really mix twitch streams into these so let us see how I did!

And my requests for these are open!!

All pictures are from Pinterest!!!

Reader has various face claims!

Masterlist / Previous Part / Next Part

Xx.y/n.xX just posted

tagged @ maxverstappen1 @ charles_leclerc

Liked by landonorris, yourbestfriend, and 9,678 others

Xx.y/n.xX another race weekend or something like that

-> yourbestfriend she’s oh so casual about it too

-> Xx.y/n.xX they had good lattes I’ll keep going

-> Redbullgaming I'm sure there were plenty of Red Bulls also 😉

-> Xx.y/n.xX admin is going to lock me in a cage if I say espresso and coffee are actually my choice of caffeine intake.

-> Maxverstappen1 She took a sip of mine, I feel like that has to count

-> Xx.y/n.xX he did share his cooties with me so I could steal a sip

-> Landonorris with the way she behaved she needed to be locked in a cage

-> Xx.y/n.xX you're uninvited from game night. @ Danielricciardo there's a spot open now!

-> Danielricciardo I'LL BE THERE

User1 Is no one going to comment on the nails

-> Xx.y/n.xX they played rock, paper, scissors to decide what merch I wore and what nails I did.

-> Danielricciardo who won

-> Xx.y/n.xX me when I broke up the fight after cheating allegations got thrown around.

-> Maxverstappen1 @ danielricciardo I won.

-> Charles_leclerc no.

-> Xx.y/n.xX he actually did Charles...

-> Maxverstappen1 officially the favorite

-> Xx.y/n.xX OKAY I didn't say THAT

Redbullgaming those nails look like those of a traitor

-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm sorry admin but you can't get rid of me I carry too hard 🫡

-> User3 there hasn't been a stream in a few days I miss watching my queen carry daily

-> Xx.y/n.xX keep your eyes pealed 🍌

-> Redbullgaming 👀

User4 so is this a soft launch, or a hard launch, or a best friends launch?

-> User5 THATS WHAT I WANT TO KNOW TOO

-> User6 like no word from ANYONE on any of this

-> User7 I mean it could be contract related with RB Racing and RB Gaming but then why would they also be constantly hanging out with Charles? It seems like other drivers also now too.

-> User4 EXACTLY if it was just y/n and Max I’d be like oh RB is looking for some cross promotion to grow fan bases but 🫣

Scuderiaferrari please never wear Red Bull merch in our garage again

-> Xx.y/n.xX @ Charles_leclerc your admin is threatening me

-> Charles_leclerc It isn’t a threat you just look better in red

-> Maxverstappen1 wrong.

-> Xx.y/n.xX he's kinda right actually

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Landonorris just posted

Tagged @ Xx.y/n.xX, @ maxverstappen1, @ charles_leclerc

Landonorris Come watch me and y/n destroy Charles and Max in a custom match before we play some unranked.

User8 Lando finally gets to stream with y/n!!!

-> User9 this group keeps growing like weeds

-> User8 it’s actually really cool to get to watch the boys stream with a girl who’s just good at what she does?

Yourteammate1 so this is why she wouldn’t get on with us??? Traitor @ Xx.y/n.xX

-> Xx.y/n.xX bite me 😘

Liked by @ maxverstappen1 @ charles_leclerc

-> Yourteammate2 you probably taste bitter anyways

User10 Y/N collecting F1 drivers like they’re valo agents

-> Xx.y/n.xX I’ve still got some to unlock!!! (I want to unlock Carlos next he seems cool!)

-> Danielricciardo rude

-> Xx.y/n.xX oh I already unlocked you, learn how to play valo then we'll talk old man.

User12 I NEED to know who everyone mains!

-> Xx.y/n.xX tune into the twitch stream to find out 👀

Redbullgaming we're always looking for new talent to join the ranks

-> Xx.y/n.xX sorry admin he vroom vrooms for the orange team

-> User13 she calls McLaren the orange team she's so unserious

-> Landonorris @ Xx.y/n.xX we're actually Papaya

-> Xx.y/n.xX semantics

-> Landonorris I'm dyslexic

-> Xx.y/n.xX so am I and I know what that means...

Charles_leclerc come watch me and @ maxverstappen1 carry!

-> Xx.y/n.xX carry the bottom of the scoreboard maybe

-> Maxverstappen1 if you're this mean all the time you're never staying with me again

-> Xx.y/n.xX your cats like me too much, I am one of them

-> Charles_leclerc she did blend in with them rather well napping in the sun.

Liked by @ maxverstappen1

User13 SHE STAYED WITH MAX IN MONACO???

-> User14 DETAILS 👏

-> User15 y/n is totally going to spill the beans on her stream

-> Xx.y/n.xX or will I?

-> User14 PLEASE, she strikes again.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Xx.y/n.xX is live on Twitch!

Y/N: I beg of you, I am on my knees BEGGING you both, please don’t embarrass me this time.

Lando: You know they’re going to.

Max: I take that very personally.

Y/N: And I take you going 4 and 20 last game very personally.

Charles: How do I put out my teleport again?

Lando: Remind me why we let him play Chamber?

Y/N: He’s French, Char insisted I’m afraid. It’s E Charles, you press E. Okay Max and what does Omen’s blind do?

Max: It blinds teammates too.

Y/N: Lando stop laughing!

Lando: I'm sorry! It's too good!

Y/N: You are not sorry and we both know it.

Yourbestfriend: I’m just here for a good time not a long time.

Y/N: No you are in this game for the long haul! I’m going to take the spike and push on to A and if I’m not drinking by the end of this half or if more than two of us make it to the end of the round god has performed miracles.

Lando: I’ll flank!

Charles: Can I go with Lando?

Y/N: Sure, ba- Char.

Max: I’ll go with the girls!

Yourbestfriend: Roadtrip to A site!

Y/N: I’m going to go get the alcohol shortly I can feel it.

Max: I fell off the side.

Y/N: Im definitely going to get the alcohol now.

Lando: New drinking game, take a shot every time Max falls off abyss.

Y/N: I like being tipsy not dead, thank you very much.

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪

Y/N: Someone in chat has asked what I am doing in Monaco and where I am staying.

Lando: Creepyyyyyyyy

Max: Judging by the cat in her lap I would assume she's staying with someone with cats

Y/N: Judging by the two men in the background of my stream I am staying with Max and Charles is over.

Yourbestfriend: and she didn't invite me, rude

Y/N: Someone needed to watch my cat, thank you very much

Max: I want to try another character.

Lando: No.

Y/N: No.

Charles: Can I try someone new?

Lando: Try sitting in spawn this game Charles

Y/N: Here

Max: For those unaware Y/N has now gone to look at characters with Charles

Charles: Oh she's cool!

Y/N (through Charles' mic): I play her or her if I don't play Neon.

Charles: First one!

Lando: For those with no eyes Charles has now locked in Fade and he is in his goth girl era after not being able to get more podiums yet this season.

Y/N: Be nice or you're not coming out to brunch tomorrow!

Lando: Is no one going to comment on that

Max: I’m definitely not

Yourbestfriend: She’s always like that I’m not surprised

Y/N: Don't test me Norris

Charles: I really wouldn't

Max: Yeah please don't

︶֪︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶ིྀ︶︶֪︶︶︶֪︶︶֪︶︶֪

Y/N: Max please stop staring at the ground you literally play video games somewhat professionally. And I know, it’s not this game but for the love of god LOOK the fuck UP!

Max: You’re dead stop talking

Y/N: I’m dead because you blinded me as I was pushing on to site and I ran straight into like three of them!

Charles: You’re still dead!

Lando: SO ARE YOU! Max why are you shooting at their fucking feet?

Max: Fuck, I died.

Y/N: YOU DIED BECAUSE YOU’RE SHOOTING AT THEIR FEET! Okay, new round, we can do this.

Lando: Y/N is no longer using her inside voice, it has now gotten serious.

Charles: What gun do I buy?

Lando: Nothing you’re going 2 and 10

Y/N: You can’t buy what you need. Here, I’m not buying this round.

Charles: It’s pink! This is the cat one!

Max: Can I have a cat one?

Y/N: No we’re both poor. I’m poor because I bought Char you’re poor because you’re bad.

Lando: They’re going to think he’s your pocket Sage with that skin.

Y/N: They both might as well be. I’m gonna ult.

Max: You’re gonna what?

Charles: Pocket what?

Lando: She’s going to run around and electrocute the other team.

Max: Oh that one!

Yourbestfriend: It's like she's your sugar daddy but the girl version and with kills not money.

Lando: A Valo sugar mommy.

Y/N: One, I'm going to scream soon, two.

Charles: oh she’s good at this.

Lando: You’re just bad mate, and it's her job.

Y/N: three, shut up this is literally my job, four.

Lando: See! It's her job!

Y/N: LET ME ACE PLEASE MAX YOU ARE SHOOTING THEIR FEET AGAIN AND- FUCK

Max: I GOT ONE!

Yourbestfriend: HE GOT ONE!

Y/N: Yes, yes you did an amazing job.

Lando: I’d like to announce to the world that Max is officially going, drumroll please, 3 and 11!

Y/N: Would you like to share our KDA’s Mr. Norris?

Lando: Why of course Y/N! While Max and Charles have a collective five kills our lovely top frag is going 28 and 3 while I am going 15 and 5.

Yourbestfriend: I’m going even!

Lando: ahh yes our middle frag who still has more kills than Max and Charles combined!

Charles: I’m getting better!

Y/N: sure Char.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

User16 NO BECAUSE SHE COVERED IT UP SO FAST

User17 I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAUGHT IT

-> User18 NO! I totally caught it also

-> User17 and then she called him Char?

->User18 NICKNMAE BASIS ALREADY

User19 I wanted to talk about her staying at Max's while she's in Monaco!

-> User20 Or whose WAG she wants to be

-> User16 If you watch Y/N's streams she doesn't need to be anyone's WAG

-> User20 All I'm saying is it's suspicious that she had been to two GP's and is taking a little trip to Monaco and they haven't seemed to be friends that long

->User21 just because they only recently started streaming together and just because Y/N only just went to her first GP's doesn't mean they haven't been friends behind the scenes

User22 Max was in her liked starting almost a year ago

-> Xx.y/n.xX the devil works hard but fangirls work harder!!!

-> User16 OH MY GOD

-> Xx.y/n.xX I'm everywhere, no one seems to remember that!

[study-diaries]

How To Study Multiple Subjects

As someone who had studied 4 subjects plus 2 languages and additional courses and extra curricular when i was homeschooled and in high school, obviously i got used to studying multiple subjects. It's fairly easy and interesting.

Here's the thing, multiple subjects is a blessing in disguise. It's easy to study many subjects because you have variety. Your brain loves variety. So, here's some tips...

Maintain Good Study Material

The mistake most students make is that they don't have the basic ground foundation. They don't know what's on the syllabus, how its structure is. Literally nothing. Many students i know, only search for their materials like two days before their exam and they panic. So, gather the following at the beginning of the school year/semester:

Textbooks (If you have any)

Practice papers

Previous year papers

Extra reading materials/ Reference books

If you don't have any textbooks. Go through the topics that you have and gather resources from different sources.

Different Notebooks For Every Subjects

I really don't understand the concept of using a single notebook for like 5-6 subjects. Like, you literally can't manage it. Even if you divide sections in the book, it will get confusing and sometimes the pages won't even be enough. So, just get a notebook for each subject. It will help you stay organized.

Divide Subjects.

Every subject is learnt and graded in a different way. You can’t use the same study techniques for every subject you have. You have mostly 3 types of subjects:

Memorization based

Practical/Question based

Theory/Essay based

You use different study techniques for different subjects. Memorization based subjects require more revision. Practical/Question based subjects require more practice. Theory based subjects require you to learn how to format your information.

Read up more: Division Of Subjects

Easy VS Difficult Subjects For You

Take a paper and write all your subjects. Now, draw a line and write your difficult subjects on one side and easy subjects on the other side. And then rate it from the most interesting to the most boring and categorize it. And then rank them on which ones take the same place. You'll get an idea of where you stand with your subjects and now you can study accordingly.

2 Subjects Per Day

This is the most important one i always recommend. If you're studying, then only 2 subjects per day should be taken up for it. Pair an interesting subject with a lighter one. If you hate accounts or find it difficult but you love English, then that's your combo. Make combinations and write them down. You can change them any day based on mood or you can keep them the same. It's up to you.

Standard Subject

I usually like to have at least one standard subject every day. That was accounts for me because i was so bad at it. The goal is not to ignore the subject until it is harder than usual. The goal is to study it every day. That subject must be your weakest one.

Breaks

Breaks are really necessary. I advise you to not allot a certain time limit for the break. Rather take a break when you actually feel tired. If you've worked for 2 hours straight, then you deserve an hour of rest. If you worked for just 30 mins and you feel tired, take 15 mins as your break. Divide your work time by half and that is your break time.

Subject Alignment With Energy

Your weakest subject must be done in your highest energy in order for you to grasp the actual concepts. That's the main aspect of it. Low energy = Easy subjects. High energy = Harder subjects. You have to identify your core energy grids and align your subjects accordingly.

Chunk Information

Group all your facts together. Instead of studying like everything is completely unrelated, study like it's all connected. If you want to learn something, chunk all your facts together. Create a visual chunk. Make everything related.

Use Mnemonics & Storytelling

Learn with these two. These help you to remember easily. Make stories and catchy phrases to remember points/facts. These are like the building blocks of studying anything. Stick small notes to your books writing the small stories and phrases beside the topic so the next time you want to revise it, it's easy.

Cheat Sheets

Create small cheat sheets. Write them down. No digital notes. Because you have physical copies. Make formulae sheets, theories, everything for every subject you are learning and keep them in different folders. Don't mix your sheets. You'll get overwhelmed. During revision, this will help a lot.

Fake Exams & Improvement Sheets

Create a fake exam environment. Sit on your desk with a timer, take a question paper and act as if you're actually writing the exam. Do this at least once and note everything. How much time you take to answer each question. What are your mistakes. Which section is your weakest. Note them down and most importantly, your overall improvements you should make.

For me, I did this for accounts, and it gave me so much clarity especially the improvements. I used to go through this improvement sheet before my actual exam and i did not repeat even a single mistake again. The trick is to keep updating the sheet by adding improvements from your actual exams too.

Testing At Random Times

I did this mostly during travel time. If i learnt a specific topic some time ago. And if i had nothing to do then I'd just mentally ask myself a question about that topic and answer it. Many times, even i am surprised the questions i ask, it gives a deep understanding of the topic. I used to even connect it to other concepts. Ask questions relating both. It's even better if you jump from one subject to the other.

Connect Similar Topic

Connect all your related subjects. Everything in school is somehow connected. I usually used to connect economics and business studies concepts. Sometimes even computers so... Connect them.

Practice Subjects Need More Time

Subjects like Accountancy, Physics, Chemistry, Economics, Maths need more time because they are in one way more practical. They require practice. Whether it be experiments o through sums. Invest more time in these subjects.

PYQ's

Use past year question papers because nothing shows important topics like pyq's. Note and mark the repeated questions and review them repeatedly. This really helps.

Read up more: How do you actually use previous year question papers

__________________

Hope this helps :))

[superbat-lmao]

A Jayroy fic where Jade drops off baby Lian and they just.. retire.

There’s a really difficult conversation they have about dating and raising a kid and vigilante work and they decide screw it. It’s not safe to raise a kid around.

And by retire, I mean they disappear. Go to ground.

(Talia knows what it is to want the best for your child even if they have different opinions on what best is. She gets them off the grid and funded in some sort of suburban hellscape that takes the both of them a while to adjust to. They say they have a deep space mission and just, don’t come back.)

Roy works in a rehab clinic and Jason gets a degree in Literature. He becomes a professor at a small college, taking on graduate students and falling into academia.

They go to therapy, the make friends with other parents, they become normal people. And they have an insane security system for their house, and AI that scrapes cameras of their faces, and a modified basement that Roy compares to the Batcave exactly once that has a gym and space to work on equipment and a method of escape should it be necessary to uproot their lives again.

Because they want to be civilians, but that doesn’t mean that if their past lives come knocking, they’ll be caught unaware and too out of the game to defend themselves. In fact, because they don’t go on patrol, they’re at peak performance at all times and rarely injured more than a sprained wrist or paper cut. Gone are the days of concussions, GSWs, and stab wounds.

The superhero community doesn’t know what to do, what to think. Because all of their resources are expended elsewhere. And because space is a big place, and trying to find two humans in its vastness is an exercise in futility.

So Lian grows up normally. She’s a girl whose parents love her. And her problems are ordinary, like homework and sleepovers and playing soccer.

And when she’s in middle school, the same age as Roy and Jason were when they started superhero training, they tell her about their past lives. About the danger it will bring if they’re found. Because they promised never to lie to her, and to never let her get wrapped up in the vigilante scene.

They’re well adjusted people raising a normal daughter.

And they explain to Lian that they came from very large and complicated families. Families that did dangerous work, work that put anyone who knew about it at risk. And that Lian was a baby, and that all of that risk of their jobs, was not worth her life. That they loved her more than their families, their jobs, their previous lives. But that it meant they could be discovered, and that those old lives would be dragged back up again and she could get hurt.

Lian thinks of it like witness protection.

So Lian memorizes code names and pictures of people that may try and approach her. She learns the differences between friendlies and uglies. Between ex-family, and rogues. And she doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t look into things when her parents ask her not to. Because she trusts them to protect her. She trusts them like a well adjusted young girl who could very well ask her parents for more information, but doesn’t care about the answers because she trusts they’re not important. That it doesn’t change how much they love her or what their lives are.

There are a couple of versions of this:

1. Jason, Roy and Lian live out their lives happily and away from their families. They are never again vigilantes or found out by them.

A) Alfred dies and that is the only thing that almost breaks Jason, that he didn’t get to see the man again before he died.

2. The Bats track them down, ask them what they hell they were thinking, that they thought they were dead. To come home, be part of the family again. They’re told no - and the three of them disappear again to somewhere they’ll never be found.

3. Alfred finds them, says nothing to anyone and once a year, on Lian’s birthday, goes to visit. None of the Bats ever figure it out.

4. Alfred knows where they’re going from the beginning, he keeps them updated on their families and helps hide them from everyone. He never once tells a soul that Jason and Roy are alive. He is allowed to visit Lian sometimes and they are all happier for it.

A) When Alfred gets old enough, he tells Bruce he will be retiring. He asks that he is not followed, that no one from the super hero community is allowed to keep tabs on him. He tells him he’s sorry, but that it has to be this way. Alfred goes and lives the end of his life with Jason, they speak about literature every day, about Alfred’s parents about anything he wants to. Jason buries Alfred in England and Bruce Wayne gets an unmarked alert to its location.

5. The Bats find them, and never approach them. Each Bat basically figures out that Jason is alive, doesn’t say anything to the rest of the family, and keeps tabs on him and Roy. Once they realize that Lian exists, none of them ever breach that level of trust, even as they all grow into old age and move on with their lives.

6. Bruce finds them.

A) He waits for Jason in a cafe, watches him realize who he is and turn to look at the Roy Harper, who nods once and walks away. Jason approaches him and sits down. He asks how he found them. Bruce doesn’t say anything, just looks at his son, alive, seemingly happy. Tells him it was an accident, he had genuinely still thought they were in space, maybe dead, until someone plagiarized Jason’s work, submitted it through a Wayne Enterprises competition of some sort, and it flagged the system. It had been entirely work related, pure coincidence. No capes.

B) And Jason laughs and it’s lighter than Bruce has heard it in years. Jason asks how much Bruce knows about him now, how much intel he gathered before approaching him. Bruce says he knows about their marriage, their daughter, their jobs and habits. Jason nods and he’s smiling. Bruce doesn’t know what to do. He had checked the area, and there were no reports of anything approaching vigilantism, no anonymous casework, no decrease in crime, nothing to suggest the presence of the Red Hood and Arsenal. He hasn’t spoken to Jason outside of business in years, isn’t sure he knows how to anymore. And he looks happy, he’s alive, he’s a civilian.

C) He wants to ask him everything, ask him to come home, wants to know the man his son became. He asks Jason why. Why they disappeared. And Jason is still smiling and it’s honest and Bruce can’t stand to look at him and can’t help it either. So Jason tells him that they will never let their daughter into vigilantism. That they quit, and needed it to be absolute. That he and Roy couldn’t do this halfway, that if they loved their daughter they had to do only what was best for her, and that meant burning their old lives entirely, becoming civilians.

D) Their lives had been too complicated, too many people, too much history. So many ways for things to go badly, to leave Lian without parents or get her killed as leverage against them. And for as much as he and Roy had cared about the people in their lives, couldn’t stop caring about them, they knew that they would just drag Lian into all of the emotional problems that come with being a vigilante. That it wasn’t healthy, for any of them. That trying to do so would kill them. So they disappeared. And Bruce thinks of the pain he and his family had gone through over Jason, wondering how he was doing, if he was dead, hearing nothing and trying not to let it eat at them. But right now, his son is in front of him smiling, something he can’t seem to stop doing. Something Bruce never thought he’d see again.

E) And he has a son in law, a granddaughter. His son has a family, one he built himself. He looks healthy, he’s not closed off, he’s more open than Bruce thinks he’s ever seen him. It’s jarring, like Bruce is wrong footed. He doesn’t know what to say. Wants to tell him about everything that’s happened, to his brothers to their family, to Gotham and old contacts. Wants him back in the loop. Wants to ask about their lives, and college, and his wedding and his daughter. Bruce wants to know all of it. And he wants to know how he did it, how he hid himself so well in plain view.

F) And the detective in him will always prioritize the how over everything else. He wouldn’t be Bruce if he didn’t. So Bruce asks how. And Jason laughs, says he’s not going to tell him.

G) You know I can’t tell you that, old man.

H) He can’t let it go, Bruce can never let anything go, that’s his burden to bear. He tries to push old buttons, doesn’t notice he’s doing it. But Jason won’t stop smiling, won’t switch from civilian to vigilante. There is no trace of anger, of the Red Hood. He doesn’t look surprised and Bruce’s arguments, about flaws in his code, software, he’s just smiling. Won’t rise to the bait. And for once, Bruce has a feeling he’s only felt around Clark. A feeling of being outmatched. Jason knows all of his buttons, isn’t pushing a damn one. Isn’t letting Bruce push his either. It’s not even a stalemate. Bruce has no openings.

I) He starts telling him about his brothers, about missions and life developments. He tries to tell Jason everything. And Jason listens, hears everything he has to say. And Bruce asks him about himself, his life, his husband, his daughter. And he hears about NA and AA meetings, about therapy and raising an infant, and being a professor and his students about their friends and neighbors, about Lian’s friends at school. All of it. Except the how. And at some point, it’s been a couple of hours, but not very long at all, Jason gets a text. He doesn’t look at his phone. And Bruce knows that whatever spell had been cast over the cafe, whatever bubble of another universe he had crossed into, he was about to watch it close. Implode on itself with only him inside. Because Jason was about to leave. All of it, the cafe, the conversation, the smiling and the laughter, it was the one distraction that Bruce was liable to. And Jason has him right where he wanted him. It was something that wouldn’t work twice, and they both knew it.

J) And Jason says, I can’t stop you from telling anyone. I can’t stop any of you from looking for us, but this was the third life of mine that you ended. Of the two of us, I would go to greater lengths to protect my daughter. I am asking you not to make me do something you’ll regret. I am asking you not to look for us, not to tell anyone, not to put it in a report. I did not want to hurt you, any of you. And you have made that unavoidable. I know you, Bruce, and I have spent time healing from everything I’ve been through. I cannot allow you to pull me back into it, to pull the three of us back into your world. I know that this conversation won’t stop you, now that you know. So I’m sorry, I didn’t want to have to say this. I know who you are, who all of you are. It was never a question before, that I would keep your secrets. If you look for us, I will go public. It’s not just your life I’ll be placing at risk, it will be the entire league. I will burn every bridge, every alias. I have redundancies in place, you send a super my way you better be sure to send them all. You better be sure you’ve caught all my backups, all of Roy’s backups, everything. We have avoided you for years without triggering any of your, or the league’s, systems. I can’t predict another accident, but if you know what is best for you and everything you’ve built, you will prevent even that from happening. Do not force my hand.

K) Bruce stands, trying to memorize his son’s face. And then Jason is gone. Disappearing down a street and out of sight. And Roy is waiting for him, their house had been cleared of all traces, Talia has new lives set up for them and Lian is asleep in the backseat.

L) Their lives are busy for the next few weeks, traveling and covering their tracks and looking for new methods of being traced. And they change their names, change their lives, are prepared for the upheaval of being new people again. This time, it sticks. They watch Lian graduate school, college, get married, have children of her own. And the media is inescapable - they learn very little about their old families lives, but not nothing. There are funerals and weddings and probably so much more in private, things they will never know, never be part of again. And then they’re just old and together. Their grandkids visit, Lian visits, life is good and long and they are happy.

• Or, it sticks until one day, a spell is cast in Gotham and he’s standing on a rooftop, no mask, identity on full display, surrounded by other vigilantes in mixed states of gear and civilian status. Some being or other from another universe required all hands on deck in this universe and had used a spell to summon them all here.

• Jason spotted Roy appearing near him on the rooftop, both of them stunned. No one had noticed them yet, but their moment of indecisiveness and a moment of pure awareness on the Batfam’s part, meant there would be an inescapable confrontation. Batman seemed to notice them first and looked to Jason, who shook his head. It appeared Batman was trying to talk to the person who had summoned them all here, to argue they should be sent back or ask if it was possible.

• Jason moved himself and Roy towards Batman, doing their best to avoid looking at any of the other vigilantes at all, including but especially family. They walked into a tense conversation.

• You must send them back, they are civilians.

• Batman, you of all people understand the threat we are up against, if the spell believes they are necessary to combat X then they were brought here.

• I understand perfectly well, I am telling you to send them back. Having them here is a security risk, not during the fight, but after. This is not your universe, things are different in ways you can’t know of, this is one of those circumstances.

• Jason and Roy approach, Roy tapping his shoulder in a way that means he’ll follow his lead.

• He announces, You are in violation of the Hempstead agreement. You have one hour to return us to our previous location before we are a security risk.

• They can hear intakes of breath around them, some of the arrow clan and bat clan have approached, uncertain of what exactly is happening, but not comforted by the fact that Batman seems to understand the situation without telling any of them. The argument continues, Jason standing just behind Roy, separating him from the group slowly forming around them, people pushing their way to the center to see their son or brother again. Their friends.

• A decision is reached, It will take me 10 minutes to establish a connection strong enough to send them both through. Do not interrupt me while I prepare, follow me.

• And Jason and Roy are walking away, backs turned to their families. To their friends. There are shouts behind them, their names, other things they choose not to hear. It is all held at bay by Batman.

• They are speaking with the universe hopper, giving him a location to send them while clearly stating that he is not to give out that location to any of the vigilantes here, that violation of these terms will risk the hero community at large. The closer it gets to the ten minute mark, the more the riot behind them frays between silent understanding and desperation. Neither of them turns around, they can’t allow themselves to look. It is excruciating.

• Roy looks Jason in the eye and neither of them are fully able to stand it, but the fact that they’re not alone has to be enough. Jason can see the itch start, the overwhelming feeling that can’t be tolerated, the one that motivates people to seek out something that will just stop. He reaches out his hand, taps it against Roy’s and is met with one of the worst smiles he’s ever seen. It threatens to bring Jason to his knees, but Roy threads their hands together. The portal opens before them and without turning around, they step through.

• There is a shared panic attack, a moment of grief and regret where both of them realize just how greatly they hurt all of the people they used to care about. They break apart together and rebuild each other enough to pick up Lian from school and begin the process of torching their home. Whatever fight they had been summoned for had not happened yet, so they had a larger lead time than they had when Bruce had stumbled across them. But now, the entire hero community, many more points of being able to be convinced, was now aware they were both alive and on Earth.

[ckret2]

Chapter 56 of human Bill Cipher probably not about to be the Mystery Shack's prisoner much longer:

Bill and Mabel wrap up their impromptu lesson on the second dimension, while Ford and Dipper wrap up their final preparations for Bill's execution.

Dipper peeked in through the door to the gift shop. When no one acknowledged him, he cautiously meandered across the living room toward Ford, straight between Bill and Mabel without either of them glancing at him; they were too caught up in Bill answering Mabel's question about how to see through walls with the fourth dimension.

When Dipper was nearly out of the room, Bill suddenly focused on him. "Hey stinky, what have you been up to?"

Dipper jumped. "What?"

Mabel laughed. "Yeah! You smell like burning hair."

"You smell like nightmares," Bill corrected.

Ford muttered a curse under his breath. Ford hadn't noticed a smell, but Dipper's soul had fallen into the Nightmare Realm—did its distinctive scent still cling to him? Would Bill realize what it meant? If he did—

Dipper swallowed hard. "I... was... having a nightmare?"

Bill considered that. "Ask a stupid question..." He shrugged and turned back to the grid he'd been adding notes to.

Dipper sighed in relief. He joined Ford in the entryway to watch the lesson in bafflement. Under his breath, he murmured, "Has this been going on a while?"

"At least the last fifteen minutes." That was how long Ford had been watching. He'd learned a couple things about higher dimensional physics even he hadn't known.

"Wait," Mabel said, "Bill, I get it! You don't look through walls, you look over them!"

Bill's face split into a wide grin. "Explain it!"

"It's like, if I was floating above the second dimension, I could just see over all the walls! But Flatworlders don't even know what 'above' is, so they'd think I was looking through the walls somehow! So there's got to be some kind of fourth dimensional place 'above' the third dimension, right?!"

"On the money, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"YES!" She'd run out of facial real estate for stickers, so she slapped it on her headband.

Bill beamed proudly at her. "How come your brother's the one with the straight A's, huh? You could blow him out of the water if you wanted."

Mabel's smile immediately disappeared.

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Oooh." Under his breath, he said, "Mabel hates people saying things like that. I should go rescue her." He crept back into the room. "Hey! Bill!"

Mabel turned toward Dipper. Bill only glanced askance at him. Flatly, he asked, "What."

"Uh..." Dipper skimmed the papers coating the room for anything that he could talk about, and focused on the ringed planet behind the TV. He pointed at it. "Is... that Flatworld?"

Bill shrugged apathetically. "Sure, you can call it that."

"Why are all the countries off the planet?"

"Do you think we lived underground?"

Mabel perked up. "Dipper! The shapes live in outer space! In between their home planet and the planet's rings! They only use the planet for vacations and underground science buildings and stuff."

Dipper asked, "Underground science buildings?"

Bill sighed and turned away from the grid, giving Dipper a look that said I'll give you my attention, but I won't like it. "Research facilities. Like wave pools, particle accelerators, and solar farms. Gigantic equipment like that is more stable anchored in bedrock."

(Ford remembered, suddenly, over thirty years ago, Bill telling him that he ought to dig out a subterranean cavern for the interdimensional portal. "A big machine like this," he'd said, "you want that anchored on all sides by solid rock. It'll be a lot more stable that way." Ford had never dreamed that was a trillion-year-old cultural artifact from a dead civilization.)

Still studying the map, Dipper asked, "How do you tell where your country's borders are if you're just floating in empty space?"

"How do you?"

"We use... rivers, and..."

"And sometimes you just make them up. It's not that complicated."

"Were they all as oppressive as the country in Flatworld?"

Bill gave Dipper a withering look. "This isn't a politics class, kid."

(Ford cast a dubious look at the blood-red letters reading "ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCHISM".)

Dipper scowled, crossed his arms, and looked over the map again. "But, wait—if you were floating in outer space, and you could just... float up and down between your planet's surface and the ring, then why isn't there anything further out than that? What was stopping you from floating all the way to that moon?" He gave Bill a challenging look, as though he'd uncovered a logical fallacy that undermined the whole map.

Bill rolled his open eye. "This is what you get for coming late to class." He pointed his crayon at his star student. "Shooting Star?"

"They did float all the way to the moon!"

Dipper's shoulders dropped. "Oh."

"It was a big extreme sports bragging rights thing," Mabel said. "Like climbing Mount Everest! Except first you have to get through the rings without dying! And it'd take like thirty years to fly there and thirty years to get back!"

"Approximating the human years," Bill said.

"So they couldn't go until they invented cars, because they're fast enough to get through the rings without getting hit and it only takes a year to drive to the moon, but that means you still have to carry enough supplies for two years, and—"

"Hold on," Dipper said. "Cars?"

"Yeah!"

"But there's no ground! They're flying around in the air! They don't have wheels, do they? What makes a car different from a rocket ship?"

"Um..." Mabel looked to Bill for help.

Bill said, "Firepower." He drew a rocket sailing up toward the moon at an angle, its fiery trail cutting through the planet's rings. After a thoughtful pause, Bill added, "I know a guy that used to work at an observatory on the far side of the moon."

Dipper said, "So what happened to your world?"

And there was that hesitance, that guarded look Ford had remembered seeing whenever Bill got too close to teaching Ford enough for him to recognize the danger to his dimension. He turned away from the kids, busying himself with refining the shape of the moon. "Do the math. I'm over a trillion years old! Stars burn out, universes go cold. Your planet will barely last twelve billion years. That's the way planets go."

"Well, if you're so powerful, why didn't you just—I dunno—keep it alive?"

The crayon snapped in Bill's hand.

Mabel gave her brother an irritated look—"Dipper, don't be mean,"—but it turned to a worried look when Bill rounded sharply on them both.

Bill snapped, "Who says I didn't, smart aleck?"

"Wh—I—"

"It is alive, thanks for asking. I made sure of that."

"Then where is it—?"

"Do you think I let you sit in here so you could ask stupid questions?" Bill planted a fist on his hip and pointed toward the door. "All you've done is derail the lesson and bring up stuff we covered three hours ago. Scram, kid."

"What—? But..." Dipper looked to Mabel for help.

Mabel shrugged. Dipper sighed, got up, and trudged out of the living room to join Ford in the entryway, giving him a forlorn look as he did.

Ford muttered, "I used to get kicked out of classes for challenging the teacher, too."

Dipper snorted. "Did he ever kick you out of class?"

Ford thought. "No—but why would he? He needed me to think I was his star student."

Although one time Bill had woken Ford up at two in the morning in the middle of a dream during the portal's construction, because Ford had forgotten some measurements he'd taken in the basement and he hadn't left his notes somewhere one of Bill's eyes could see them. And then, once Ford had retrieved his notes, the irritation of being woken had prevented him from falling back asleep and returning to his Muse.

They'd laughed about it the next night.

"Do you think his world does still exist?" Dipper asked.

Ford shook his head. "The Oracle said he destroyed his dimension himself in his pursuit of power. I trust her more than him."

They stood outside watching as Mabel asked Bill if there was any way for a normal human to see into the fourth dimension without busting their eyeballs. Bill started illustrating a way to grind glass to refract light from several minutes in the future, before abandoning it halfway completed to start explaining to Mabel how regular three-dimensional refraction worked. Ford recognized the unfinished illustration. Bill had included it in his miniature grimoire, too.

Voice low, Ford murmured, "You can't tell your sister we're ready."

Dipper nodded. "She'll be heartbroken."

Ford remembered having the exact same thought that morning. He squeezed Dipper's shoulder. "I suppose I won't be going with her to that concert in Portland tomorrow."

####

"... and that," Bill concluded, "is why the Time Giants banned sixth-dimensional tourism. But by then the damage was done—which is why there's only one survivor left."

Laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, Mabel said, "I'll never see balloons the same way again."

"Nobody ever does." Bill clicked shut his marker and dropped it on Mabel's chest. "So that covers the last fifty billion years of local politics! Did that answer your question?"

Mabel paused. "I don't remember my question."

"Good. I don't either." Bill sat on the floor beside Mabel and crossed his legs. "Anyway, you owe me fifty grand. All the info I gave you today is worth at least a year of college classes on this planet."

"Pssh, yeah right!" She paused. She sat up. "Wait. Really?"

"I might've skipped a few names and dates and formulas—but sure! We covered all the important stuff!" Smugly, he said, "So, still think I think you're dumb?"

Mabel stared at him, and then around the room at all the papers coating the walls, covered in Bill's handwriting. "You did all this just to prove I'm smart?"

"You proved you're smart. I got a captive audience for the afternoon. Quid pro quo!" Bill grinned. "I wasn't kidding earlier! You've got twice the brains of any of the other morons you'll share a classroom with. I'm surprised it's your brother on the honor roll instead of you."

Mabel's smile faded. Oh. "Yeah," she grumbled, pulling her knees to her chest. "You and everyone else." This wasn't much better than Bill thinking she was stupid: now he had expectations for her.

She'd heard it a million times, any time she did anything intelligent. You're so smart too, why aren't your grades better? Why don't you make grades like your brother?

Because Mabel liked art, music, motion, and stories (and usually not even the stories they read in English class); and Dipper liked—or at least was good at—math, science, and history. Because Mabel's brain fuzzed over with TV static when she tried to read a textbook, and the static got louder the more she was forced to reread it to "study"; whereas Dipper could read a chapter once, retain everything that mattered, and then skim it a second time right before a test to remind himself of the important names and dates. Because Mabel's bulb was just as bright as Dipper's, but hers had faulty wiring, making it flicker on and off outside her control; and she could only get it to glow steadily for things her brain was interested in; and she couldn't choose what her brain was interested in; and school wasn't on that list.

But how did she explain that when her parents were disappointed in her C+ test because Dipper came home with an A? When they told her she just needed to apply herself, how did she explain she was already applying herself five times harder than Dipper and still trailing behind him when the whole family knew she had just as much brains as him? It might have been easier if she actually was stupid. At least then they'd know she was doing her best. But she wasn't doing her best.

She got it from everyone. From her parents, day in and day out; from aunts, uncles, and grandparents; from teachers she'd taken by surprise with a particularly passionate essay; sometimes even from friends. Why aren't you making A's like your brother? So why shouldn't she hear it even from Bill Cipher.

Bill leaned back in surprise when Mabel curled in on herself. "What? I'm calling you smart, kid. Most humans like that."

Mabel shook her head, pouting at the floor. "Forget it. It just—it doesn't matter what my stupid grades are, all right?"

He stared at her in bafflement for a moment; and then said, with a tone of growing horror, "Oh. Ohhh. I sound like your dad."

She hated how much he knew about their home lives. She never knew when he was going to reveal he'd combed through one of her most shameful memories. "Just forget it," she repeated. "I just don't make grades like Dipper, okay?"

"Kid, I didn't mean it like that. I..." Bill floundered for a moment. It was weird to see him struggling for words. He leaned forward, cheek in hand, putting himself eye level with Mabel. "You know—I don't think I'm fond of your brother."

That dragged a small laugh out of Mabel. "Really? You hide it so well."

"I know! I'm a real gentleman," he said. "So when I say 'hey, why aren't you getting A's,' I'm not saying you should be more like him, ugh. I just want to watch the alpha twin trounce that little nerd."

She laughed louder. "Bill! Be nice, that's my brother!"

"And you have my eternal sympathy."

"Bill!" She punched his arm. "I don't want to compete with him, though. Even if I try a zillion times harder, I'll never get grades as good as his." She sighed loudly. But Bill was watching her, full attention on her face, expectant, so she continued: "I don't want to be a slightly worse Dipper, I just... want to be a really good Mabel! And—and maybe a really good Mabel is just okay at school. It's fine if I just... graduate with C's and go to some boring local college to get a boring degree for a boring job... while Dipper goes to some... big, fancy stupid technical college... or..." She trailed off, chin in her hands, staring at the carpet.

"Or while he gets private tutoring from some genius with too many PhDs?" Bill said wryly.

Mabel didn't answer, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat. "I know he wouldn't have actually left me behind."

Bill grimaced, sucking in a breath between his teeth. "Yeeeah, no, he would have," he said. "Sorry, kid. If it weren't for Weirdmageddon, he'd have taken the apprenticeship."

Mabel's stomach flipped. "Oh."

"So, you're welcome," Bill said.

Mabel socked him again, more seriously.

Bill just laughed. "Hey—if it helps, he woulda been worse off for it! He made the right choice sticking with you."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?" He paused. "Poor choice of words. I'm not lying to you. He'll be better off suffering through a middle-upper-class Californian high school beside you than he ever woulda been hiding in the woods catching gnomes in butterfly nets."

She nodded. That was some comfort. Even if, in another life, apparently Dipper would've ditched her.

Bill gave her one of those long, piercing looks he sometimes did; and then he nudged her. "Hey. Don't worry about school—that's your parents talking, not you. And don't worry about what your brother does. Let him bust his butt at a big stupid technical college! Flunk every class and draw flowers on the SAT bubble sheet! You'll have plenty of your own things going on, and your dumb grades won't matter for any of them—"

Mabel flung her arms around Bill. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey. You're gonna be fine, kid." He leaned his head on Mabel's, one shut eye pressed to the crown of her head. "I—know it's hard. But you'll be fine."

She didn't know how he could know it was hard. He already knew everything, it wasn't like he ever had to worry about grades. But—the fact that he cared (that he cared) meant a lot. "Thank you."

"Buuut, if you ever decide you do want to be an honor roll kid, call me up! I can give you some advice."

Warily, Mabel asked, "Study tips?"

"No way! What a waste of time!" Bill rolled his eyes. "But I can teach you how to cheat."

####

After Ford told Stan and Soos the news about the Dontium, he headed downstairs to fuel up his Quantum Destabilizer. It had been waiting on a worktable in his study for weeks, the corded power adaptor Fiddleford had made plugged in where it usually took fuel, its empty fuel tank laying nearby.

Fiddleford had said the adaptor he'd invented only gave the destabilizer enough power to act like a common laser—not enough to completely destroy matter and energy. It was insufficient for the job at hand. Ford unplugged the power adaptor, carefully coiled it up, and slid it into a storage pocket in the destabilizer's carrying case.

He picked up the fuel tank, retrieved the milk jug of NowUSeeitNowUDontium, and poured it into the tank, eyes never wavering from the jug until every drop had been poured inside and the tank re-sealed. He triple checked the destabilizer's safety before he plugged in the fuel tank. Then he put the destabilizer in the carrying case as well, and shut and latched it.

As he headed toward the door, Ford spied Flatworld laying on his desk—Dipper must have left it downstairs. He picked it up... and then sat down, studying the cover. It showed a square with arms and legs peering through a telescope.

How much did the book really matter? The kids must have cracked open something in Bill's psyche by reading this book, with how talkative he'd been today—Ford suspected he'd learned more about Bill's world in less than thirty seconds of staring at the crayon drawings in the living room than he had in all the years he'd known him. He itched again to start recording revelations in his journal.

Would Bill have been this forthright years ago, if Ford had remembered more about the book then and asked about it? Or was Bill only willing to share so much because the Pines already knew the truth about his cruel intentions and he had nothing more to hide? No, that couldn't be it—just a year ago, long after he'd revealed his plans, Bill had been willing to guardedly confess to Ford that he'd "liberated" his dimension, but nothing more. The only descriptor he'd given of it was "flat." He hadn't even shown Ford an accurate illustration of his home world.

Then was it because he'd died since then—a ghost desperate to share his life story before he dissipated completely? Or was it just because Mabel had asked?

If Bill had been honest when he'd said he wanted to be Ford's friend... then, Ford supposed, it was possible Bill was also sincere in caring for Mabel. No, Ford was sure that was sincere. How many times had he seen Bill lost in thought, staring at the friendship bracelet she'd given him?

Ford idly flipped through Flatworld, choosing a passage at random to read, wondering how much he'd remember.

SQUARE. Most illustrious Sir, I can observe plainly that you are a Circle, though I know not by what magical means you have found an ingress into my dreams. Would your Lordship deign to satisfy the curiosity of one who wishes to know the identity of his esteemed Visitor?

SPHERE. Your question is more difficult than you may realize. To begin with, I am not a Circle, but rather a Sphere, the definition of which I shall explain to you in due time; and you, my humble pupil, if you exercise the full extent of your intellectual and rhetorical capacity, I hope shall be the Square who changes Flatworld. 

SQUARE. Your Lordship both honors and confuses me. I shall strive to be worthy of your high estimation, but I am naught but a mere Quadrilateral and know not how I could contain the potential to achieve such a feat.

SPHERE. I see I have gotten ahead of myself. I shall explain the purpose of my visit. I hope to find in you—as being a man of sense and an accomplished mathematician—a fit prophet to receive the Gospel of Higher and Lower Dimensions, which I am allowed to preach to only one brilliant mind in a century. 

SQUARE. Pardon me, my Lord, if I am speaking blasphemously in my ignorance; but would not a messenger from beyond this Plain who delivers Gospels to Prophets be better described as an Angel?

SPHERE. You may refer to me as an "Angel" if you so wish, as my nature is not so different from the creature you call such. However, I have come not to offer a revelation of the truth of the Higher Dimensions, but to bless you with the inspiration to discover the truth for yourself. In this manner, I am less like unto an Angel than I am to a Muse—

Ford threw the book on the floor.

####

When Ford headed back upstairs, he resolved to tear down all Bill's crayon drawings and throw them away, lest he give into the temptation to waste the rest of Journal 5's pages meticulously cataloguing them.

But when he reached the living room, the walls were bare, with no sign the papers had ever been there aside from some stray crayon marks and a little extra damage to the wallpaper where the tape had peeled up, and a faint smell of smoke.

Ford followed the smell into the kitchen. There was a cast iron skillet on the dark stove, embers and the last few strands of smoke trailing up from it. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, staring out into the night, nursing what looked like the second cider can of the night.

"What's all this?" Ford asked.

Without turning around, Bill said smugly, "I knew you'd be back to try to get those papers."

"Wh—? I was coming to throw them away."

"In the middle of the night?" Bill scoffed. "Please."

Ford frowned at the skillet. Well. Temptation removed, just like he'd wanted. Although a petty part of him was miffed that now Bill thought he'd been coming to rummage through his detritus for secrets about his home world, rather than seeing Ford confidently throw it in the trash. "How did you get the stove on?"

"Oh, is it on?" Bill asked innocently.

Ford double checked. It was not, and the knobs to operate it were still removed. But it radiated heat as though it had been; Bill hadn't just dropped the papers in the skillet and ignited them there. (Which would have been an entirely new concern.) Ford checked the cabinet where they kept the stove knobs—all still there. If he asked Bill how he'd achieved that, he'd probably just profess ignorance.

Fine, Ford had plenty of other questions he wanted to ask. "How long have you been able to levitate objects?"

"You mean like this?" Bill lifted his empty cider can, tapped it twice with his index finger, and left it suspended in midair.

"Yes, like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I can't do that," Bill said.

Ford sighed in frustration. "Was it the eclipse? You said you were—what was it, 'better at floating' than us? Did it... unlock something? Or have you always been able to do this?"

"This is what I used to like about you, Stanford. You're so curious. You come up with the most interesting connections between things. Sometimes connections I'd never thought of! And you keep—asking—questions. Even when nobody answers you." He finished his second can, used both hands to crush it, and left it floating in the air next to the first. "You used to be such a good student."

You used to be such a good teacher, he wanted to shoot back—but that was a lie. Bill had never been a good teacher, he'd just pretended to be one.

He'd been a good teacher to Mabel today.

Why isn't he always a good teacher? Why had he chosen to be a poor facsimile when he could have chosen to be the real deal? Why hadn't he been better? Why hadn't he been better? Why did they always seem to have these conversations in the middle of the night?

"Why are you..." Ford spread his hands helplessly, gesturing at all of Bill, everything he'd ever done—golden god of infinite wisdom, poisoned by lies and cruelty, trapped in a slowly rotting body. "Why are you like this."

Ford wasn't expecting Bill to get out of his seat and round on him so fast. He didn't even see the blow coming before Bill punched him.

Ford seized Bill's wrist and only barely caught himself before he broke it.

Bill didn't even acknowledge Ford's grip. "I'm so sick of you." His voice was hard as iron. "If you ever ask me that again, I'll burn down this shack with all of us inside."

Ford stared at Bill. He let go of his wrist.

Bill silently swept around Ford and out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry."

Bill's footsteps fell silent. After a moment, he muttered, "Might've overreacted."

Something about the grudging not-apology hit Ford harder than a proper apology ever would have. He remained standing in the kitchen until long after Bill had gone upstairs.

The cans had fallen at some point during Bill's departure. Ford knelt to pick them up. Experimentally, he tapped one twice, and let it go.

It fell to the floor again.

It occurred to him that, depending on what happened tomorrow, those might have been the last words he'd ever say to Bill.

####

Bill shuffled to his sleep spot under the attic window, flopped unsteadily onto the cushions, pulled Journal 4 from its hiding spot, and carefully stuck the gold star Mabel had given him earlier that day to one of its pages.

And then he filled half a page with all the things he should have screamed at Ford.

####

Mabel came into the bedroom, shut the door—it had been patched earlier that day by Soos—and flopped face up on her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she said, "Dipper I know everything now."

Dipper was already under the covers, eyes shut. "About what?"

"Bill."

"What shape was his dad?"

Mabel paused. "I know almost everything about Bill."

"Pfff."

"But I do know his mom was some kind of supermodel or something! He says that's where he got his good looks. I don't know if he's actually good-looking by Flatworld standards, or if he just has really high self-esteem, but if his mom was a model I guess he could have inherited whatever Flatworlders think is good-looking—"

"How do you know he's not lying?"

"Why would he lie about that? I'll never meet his mom."

"To make his family sound cool?"

Uncertainly, Mabel said, "I guess." After a pause, she loud-whispered, "Did you read Flatworld?"

Dipper figured he wasn't getting to sleep any time soon. He pushed his covers down and sat up. "Yeah."

"It was really messed up, huh?"

Dipper thought about it. "I... guess it was, yeah." He hadn't thought about it much earlier—he'd been trying to wrap his head around the math and visualize the fourth dimension, and then his quick tour of the Nightmare Realm had pushed it from his mind completely; but... "The author's really obsessed with dead baby shapes, huh."

"You remember those old 70s cartoons with singing numbers we watched in class to try to teach us multiplication?" Mabel asked. "I was expecting it to be like that but for old timey people. Not about shapes getting executed for having short sides."

"Or squares getting locked in insane asylums for heresy if they tried to say the third dimension existed."

"Or major sexism against lines."

"Yeah, what was that about? Did they really think lines went around stabbing everyone to death just because they're pointy and they could?"

"I don't know, maybe lines really did do that. If I kept being told to shut up because my head was too skinny to hold a brain, I'd stab my husband too."

"I guess that makes sense." Light through the attic's triangular window illuminated the room a deep gray-blue; but as Dipper watched, the room darkened as a cloud covered the moon. It was probably going to rain tomorrow. "And... this is where Bill grew up?"

"Yeah," Mabel said quietly. "Some details are different from the book, he said so. Like he told me colors weren't illegal and peace-cries were just a dumb etiquette thing. But..."

"What about the executions? Or—or triangles being treated like servants by everyone else?"

"I don't know. He didn't want to answer questions like that. He talked about stuff like dance clubs and gardening in space, but he got super mad when I tried to ask about the serious stuff."

"Maybe he got his power as part of some... triangle uprising? And then he went crazy and decided to destroy everything?" Dipper was thinking, again, about the Axolotl's half-remembered prophecy. That maybe Bill was here to help them against some threat even worse than him.

"I can see why he destroyed his dimension," Mabel said.

Dipper winced, "Okay, but—sure, it was bad, but that doesn't mean his entire dimension deserved to die."

"No, of course not," Mabel said quickly. "But like I get it. If all that was going on."

"If it was. Just... how much is different from the book, and how much is true?"

"I don't know."

The room fell silent again.

"Welp," Mabel said brightly, "I've got the rest of summer to get the whole story out of him! Goodnight, Dipper!"

Dipper's stomach flipped with guilt. "Yeah." The rest of summer. Mabel left for Portland in the morning. "Goodnight."

He lay down, pulled his sheet back up, and stared at the ceiling.

Friday, 11:00 p.m.

####

(Next week's chapter is exactly what you think it is. But before we get there, I'm looking forward to hearing what y'all think about this week!)

[krisp-xyz]

Was experimenting with halftone effects after watching this video and it almost has spiderverse vibes honestly. I actually learned some neat things about why printers use CMYK instead of just CMY so I thought I'd share !!

So in our optimal little computer space, Cyan (0,255,255), Magenta (255,0,255) and Yellow (255,255,0) all multiplied together gives us a perfect black (0,0,0) Awesome! The issue is that ink colors irl arent exactly perfect like this, and color is a bit more complicated irl compared to how computers represent it, so they aren't the greatest at combining into black if they aren't those perfect CMY values:

Left: CMY

Right: CMYK

(thats not even black, its a dark blue in the original image but dark colors just look so much richer)

An important step to make sure you arent doubling up on the black values though is to divide the image by it's own "value" (the max of all 3 color channels) that way the value is equal to 1 everywhere, and you're letting the black ink take care of the value on its own.

Left: CMY (normalized value)

Middle: K (black)

Right: Combined

Now obviously the grids of dots cant be aligned perfectly with each other because you'd just get a bunch of black dots in unwanted areas, but if the grids are misaligned, then some dots become more prominent than others which tints the whole image. This was an issue because older printing methods didn't have great accuracy and these grids were often misaligned.

The solution was to rotate these grids such that they can move around freely while getting rid of that tint effect if they aren't perfectly aligned :D

(I have no idea how they came up with these angles but that might be something to look into in the future who knows)

SPEAKING OF MISALIGNMENT

I wanted to implement that in my own filter to get some cool effects, and I discovered another reason CMYK is better than CMY for lots of stuff !!

With CMY, you're relying on the combination of 3 color channels to make the color black. This means if you have thin lines or just details in general, misalignment can make those details very fuzzy. Since CMYK uses a single color of ink to handle value, it reduces color fringing and improves clarity a lot even if you have the exact same misalignment as CMY!

Left: CMY

Right: You guessed it! CMYK

(yes these comparisons have the exact same color misalignment, the only difference is using a fourth ink color for black)

ANYWAY I just thought there was a lot of cool information in this tiny little day project, I also just think it looks really neat and wanted to share what I learned :3c

EDITING BECAUSE THERE'S ONE MORE THING I WANTED TO ADD

So, I talked about how to get K in addition to CMY instead of just CMY, but how exactly do you separate CMY from an image in the first place?

Well, CMY is a subtractive color space, meaning the "absence of color" is white, compared to RGB where it's black. This makes sense because ofc ink is printed on white paper. You can use dot product to get the "similarity" between two vectors, and this can be used to separate RGB actually! Using the dot product of a color and red (255,0,0) will give you just the red values of the image. This is cool though because if we get the dot product of our image and the color cyan (0,255,255), we can get the cyan values from our image too! If we first divide our colors by their value to separate the value from them, then separate CMY using those dot product values, and using K for our final black color value, our individual color passes end up looking like this:

While it's called a "subtractive" color space, I find it more intuitive to treat white as the absence of color here, and then multiply all these passes together. It makes it much easier to understand how the colors are combined imo. Notice how cyan is the opposite of red: (255,0,0) vs (0,255,255) and magenta and yellow are the opposites of green and blue respectively! This means you can actually kinda get away with separating the RGB values and just inverting some stuff to optimize this, but this example is much more intuitive and readable so I won't go too deep into that. THANKS FOR READING I know it's a very long post but I hope people find it interesting! I try my best to explain things in a clear and concise way :3

oh thank you I realized I should probably add an eyestrain tag

[radioactiveparker]

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader

Part Two - Low Tolerance For Dehydration

Chapter Summary - We begin to learn the truth about why these kids are the way they are. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Illusions to Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Dysfunctional Families / Kleptomania / References to Religious Beliefs / Sexual References / Drug References / Stereotyping / Angst

Word Count - 7.2k

(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

-----

Saturday.

October 25th, 1984.

Hawkins High Library.

10:30am.

~~~~~

After that rather thrilling event courtesy of Eddie Munson and Principal Higgins, the next two hours went on forever.

The grinding of gears, the hum of the electric motor, and the movement of the clock's hands invaded the silence. The second hand made a rapid clicking sound. You counted each one. At twenty-second intervals, the minute hand squeaked. The clock sounds became the percussion for a lullaby that almost lulled you to sleep.

Eddie remained seated next to you, spending the better part of an hour sulking that he had just wrecked the rest of his winter. The rest of the time, he spent scratching markings into the table with his car keys (which you immediately told him to stop out of annoyance. He ignored you, of course) and counting all the pictures he can see in the medullary rays of the wood. In his mind, he connected the lines and dots. Before his eyes, they formed the crude outline of a shapely woman with her legs rudely spread apart. He used the notebook paper to cover it up. He did not want to spend the next five and a half hours with a boner he couldn't get rid of. Especially one given to him by something as ridiculous as an imaginary table lady.

Steve was lazily picking off the fuzz of a tennis ball that he found in the lost and found box behind the front desk, piling it up in a small illuminous heap. The bald patches reminded him of principal Higgin's round, balding head. He picked at it harder, really digging his fingernails into the stringy felt like it had personally offended him.

Nancy was trying to write her paper. Normally, the undisturbed silence would be prime time to work on an essay, but she began staring off into space, her mind wondering. All she had managed to write was a title 'Who Am I?', her name, the date, and the time. Each time she would bring herself back to reality, she would check her watch, then erase the time and write the new one. 

Robin was hunched over, hidden in her hair as she scribbled over her cherry red converse. She wrote whatever came to mind; her name, milk duds, a drawing of the top half of a naked woman, a copy of her fingerprint. She kept going until the red had almost disappeared.

You rested your head in your palms, eyes looking up as you counted the tiles on the ceiling. You got to thirty eight when Eddie nudged you. You opened your mouth to scold him for making you lose count, when he slid a sheet of paper over to you. He'd drawn a tic-tac-toe grid and placed an X in the centre square. You grabbed a pencil and drew a circle in the top right corner, deciding to keep him entertained before he starts causing more trouble. He smiled cutely when you slid the paper back to him. 

The two of you played until both sides looked like a gingham tea towel. Much to your distaste, you lost 38 - 43. Eddie pulled tongues as the victor and you decided then to never play tic-tac-toe with Eddie again; you didn't want his head getting bigger than it already was.

The library door swung open and Principal Higgins stood with a scowling face.

"All right. Who has to go to the rest room?"

All hands shot up. 

Higgins gave a single nod, signalling that everyone could get out of their seats. You groaned in relief when your spine cracked, though you still had pins and needles in your left foot and your butt was numb from sitting on it for too long. The Principal lead you all down the hall to the restrooms, where he unlocked them with a jingling of keys.

"Two minutes for the boys. Three minutes for the girls." He stared at his watch like he was already starting the count down.

"How come they get an extra minute?" Eddie complained, pointing at the group of girl who all had their arms crossed, looking at him like the answer was obvious.

"Try and remember your biology, Munson." Principal Higgins rolled his eyes, still staring at his watch.

"Oh, right. Does that mean Harrington gets another minute?"

Annoyed, Steve pushed through into the bathroom. Eddie followed behind, laughing manically. 

The two of them rarely used the schools restroom, even for Eddie who was kind of a slob, they were too disgusting. Students only ever really used them to hide when skipping classes. The walls were covered in graffiti and a few of the tiles were cracked, and there was always something on the floor that made the bottom of their shoes sticky. They didn't even want to try to guess what it was. Steve stood in front of the urinal and unzipped his jeans. Eddie hopped onto the countertop and fished through his hair to retrieve the cigarette from behind his ear.

"You want one?"

Steve took a peek behind him. "Oh yeah, ten of 'em please. I need to prove I'm a man."

"Whatever man." That was the last time Eddie would offer Steve anything ever again.

He fumbled in his pocket, took out a lighter and lit his cigarette.

Meanwhile, the state of the girls bathroom wasn't much better. The floors were less sticky, but there was always tissue all over the place, and a funny smell in the air.

"Is this a drag, or what?" You looked at your tired eyes in the reflection and started complaining about them to the girls. 

Nancy rummaged through her purse, pulling out perfume bottles, make-up, compacts, brushes; an incredible amount of things that she probably didn't need. Nancy very helpfully let you borrow the make-up out of her bag. You were looking as good as new in no time.

"You want one?" Robin pulled out a pack of spearmint gum and stuck one in her mouth.

You looked at her repulsed. "Robin, you can't eat in the bathroom. What if you get VD of the mouth or something!"

She paused like she hadn't thought about that. She quickly walked to the sink and washed her hands. She grabbed a paper towel to dry them and then used it to open the door. She held the door open with her foot, wadded up the paper towel and made a three pointer into the waste bin. A shot that even Steve would find impressive, even if she did surprise herself making it in the first place. She didn't show that though. 

"You're into washing your hands, but you eat inches away from a live toilet?" 

She gave you an offended glare her, and left the bathroom, letting the door close on you and Nancy. You turned to Nancy and gave her a look that said 'I'm not crazy for thinking that am I?'. 

"I mean that was a little disgusting, but you could have worded it a bit nicer."

She walked out, leaving you wondering whose side she was on.

"I didn't mean to upset you." You called after Robin. "I was just reacting to something I thought was seriously weird. I mean, I'll listen if you needed some one to talk to about it." 

Robin didn't give you the time of day, just rolled her eyes to herself. She didn't appreciate the way you worded your apology; like she was the one with the problem.

"Let's go. Shake it off!" Higgins called into the boys bathroom.

Even with the extra minute you were given, the girls still managed to be done before the boys. Eddie opened the door, smelling strongly of tobacco.

"Where's Harrington?"

"Drowned." Eddie said bluntly.

The Principal crossed to the door and peaked his head in. "Alright, Harrington, c'mon. Lets go!"

Steve made a few final adjustments to his hair, raking his fingers through it to position his chestnut curls perfectly on his head. Principal Higgins dragged him out before he could finish.

~~~~~

11:30am

~~~~~

You laid across three chairs as some sort of make shift bed and tucked your coat underneath your head for a pillow. You had planned to take a nap, but Nancy had decided to sharpen her pencil. The winding and grinding of the sharpener grated your ears. She knew she was making a lot of noise, but she couldn't seem to get a good point on her pencil. She took it out of the sharpener, blew the dust from the tip, and examined it before shoving it back in. She had three quarters left of her pencil.

Steve had a straight leg on the front table and reached over to touch his toes, stretching his hamstring. How he did it in those jeans was beyond you. His little grunts of effort and heavy breaths as he switched legs annoyed you almost as much as Nancy's sharpening. Robin was in her same seat, picking at her black, chipped nails in her lap and chewing her gum loudly out of spite. How you had gone from sitting in hours of silence, to a sudden ruckus when you wanted to sleep was just your luck. 

Eddie had chosen to sit in front of you on the table, ripping out pages of textbooks from the history section. 

Nancy winced at each tear. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Princess? I'm vandalising public property." He said it like it was obvious, loudly ripping another page to emphasise his point. "You get off on being stupid, or something?"

"You're such a waste."

Eddie placed the book gently on the table, giving it a few taps for good measure. He sat up straight, hands on his knees like a teachers pet. He nodded sarcastically in agreement. "You're absolutely right. It's wrong to destroy literature. It's such fun."

He jumped down off the desk, kicking up loose pages as he stalked over to his next victim: the card files. He pulls out the entire draw completely and lugged it back over to his spot on the desk. The unexpected slam of it on the table startled you, and you sat up with a huff. There was no way you were getting sleep any time soon.

Nancy scoffed as he began yanking the catalogue cards out and putting them back in a random order, creating a horrible mess for someone to sort out later. She continued to grind the sharpener.

"Big deal." You mocked her, she and the sharpener were really starting to get on your nerves. "It's not like there's anything better to do."

Eddie was impressed. He turned to you. "You grounded tonight?" 

His question threw you off, but you knew there was definitely more to it. "No, why?"

He looked surprised that you weren't, but he didn't know that your parents weren't even aware you were here in the first place. "Reefer Rick is throwing a Halloween party down by Lover's Lake tonight. Wanna come?"

Apparently, all it took was a few games of tic-tac-toe to get into Eddie's good books. There was a part of you that wanted to go. It was another excuse to get away from your parents, but you didn't want to imagine the shit you would get from Carol if she found out you had gone to a party with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. Then Billy crept back into your mind. Your blood went cold at the thought. You knew he wasn't here, but you expected him to come charging through the doors any second now. You had to make sure he knew you weren't interested in Eddie. You didn't want another repeat of this morning.

"Why would I want to go to that crackhead's place? I'll probably catch a disease."

Eddie looked a little disappointed and a little offended that you had insulted his friend, but he hid it well. So why did you feel kind of bad?

You looked up at him with big eyes. "I mean, my mom doesn't like me going to parties anyway."

"What about your dad?"

"If I do what my mom doesn't want me to it's because my dad says it's okay.  And if I do what my dad doesn't want me to it's because my mom says it's okay. It's like this whole big monster deal. It lasts forever and it's a total drag. It's like any minute: divorce." You hated talking about your parents, but I felt good to get off your chest. Carol and Tommy never cared to ask.

"Who do you like better?"

"Huh?"

"You like your old man better than your mom?"

"They're both screwed." You sighed. You didn't like where this conversation was headed anymore. Nancy had stopped sharpening her pencil and you could feel everyone listening in.

"If you had to pick?"

"I don't know. I mean, they must have loved each other at some point, but I guess I wasn't around for that part. So I don't think any of them really care about me either. They just use me as ammunition in their little wars."

"HA!" Your response had provoked a laugh from Robin. A laugh that let you know she thought you deserved it. She was more offended by that comment in the bathroom than you had thought.

"You're just feeling sorry for yourself." Steve added, shaking out his legs.

You didn't find it very fair that they were ganging up on you all of a sudden. "If I didn't, nobody else would."

"Oh, you're breaking my heart." But Steve didn't sound sincere at all. You weren't enjoying this side of Steve one bit. And it was all because of Billy. 

"Do you get along with your parents?" Eddie sided with you.

"If I say, yes, I'm a real idiot, right?"

"I think you're an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, you'll be a liar, too."

"You know something, I've just about had it with you. If we weren't in school, man, I'd wail all over you. They'd have to pick you up with tweezers."

Eddie didn't seem fazed. Eddie got threats like this all the time, it wasn't anything he hadn't already heard before. 

"I don't really get along with my parents." Nancy piped up, trying to get the boys attention away from each other so there wasn't a brawl in the middle of the library.

"Yeah right, you're every parent's wet dream."

"That's the problem." She paused, you saw her eyes glaze over then looked at you. "I don't think my parents ever loved each other either."

Everyone was silent, looking at her like they were waiting for her to burst into tears. She regretted bring it up.

"They must have married for some reason?" Steve asked. Whether it was because he was being nosey, or he was concerned for her, you couldn't tell.

"My mom was younger. My dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family."

"Screw that."

"Yeah, screw that."

"I could see you not liking them for making you wear those kind of clothes, but, shit, what else would you be doing if you weren't busy making yourself a better citizen?" Eddie clearly hadn't read the room.

"Why do you have to insult everybody?" Eddie was really pushing Steve's limits. You noticed it happened especially when it came to Nancy.

"I'm being honest, asshole. I'd expect you to know the difference." He said it like he had had a similar argument with Steve in the past.

Nancy raised her middle finger at him. 

"Whoa, obscene gestures from such a pristine girl."

"I'm not that pristine." Nancy argued, though she regretted it almost immediately.

She cleared her throat and make her way back to her seat. 

"Are you a virgin?" She caught Steve's eye, they shared a look, but Eddie missed it. "I'll bet you a million dollars that you are."

"Would you take that bet, Robin?"

"Not really."

"That's the last time I call you 'Robin', Buckley."

He continued. "Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off...hoping to God your parents don't walk in?" 

Nancy was getting upset. "Do you want me to puke?"

"Over the panties, no bra, blouse unbuttoned, Calvin's in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?"

You squeezed your thighs together. His voice was deep and masculine, sending you off into an alluring day dream. You found yourself in the back seat of a car, a strong man towering over you, rough hands caressing your soft skin. He takes off your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air of the night, nipples hardening. He's groping them, kissing them, loving on them. Your moaning and he's trailing his lips lower. Your hands thread themselves in his brown, wavy hair. He's pulling your panties down with his teeth, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. And suddenly you were in the back of his van, pulling off his patched, demin jacket until he's leaning over you completely naked. He put his lips to your ear, whispering --

"Hey, why don't you leave her alone!" Steve breaks you out of your imagination.

"You gonna make me?"

"Yeah."

"You and whose army?"

"Just me and five of my fingers. I hit you. You hitting floor. Anytime you're ready."

Eddie realised that Steve was being serious, but doesn't believe he is quite capable of making good on his threat. 

"Yeah? You want a black eye to go with that split lip? You couldn't fight Billy Hargrove, what makes you think you can beat me?"

Your chest tightened at his name and your eyes darted to the door. They stayed shut. It calmed you a little, but your heart was still beating against your ribcage. You placed a hand there in case it burst out. You wondered how Eddie knew about the fight at the party, you hadn't seen him there. But then again, word travels fast around Hawkins High. Your breathing became heavy. All this arguing was making you dizzy. You could do without a repeat of last Thursday.

"Try me."

"Eddie." You pleaded him not to retaliate, swallowing down your pride for a second of peace.

He looked at you, and suddenly Eddie was not in the mood to fight Steve. The fear in your eyes scared him a little. You were serious about them not fighting. But luckily for you, Eddie knew when to stop. Besides, there were ladies present, and he was a gentleman.

To some extent.

 "Whatever man, I'm not getting into this with you."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" He paused. He wasn't going to tell Steve he did it for you. "'Cause I'd kill you. It's real simple, you'd die and your fucking parents would sue me and It'd be a big mess and I don't care enough about you to bother. So drop it."

"Chicken."

"You know, you should see a doctor. I think those steroids are frying your brain."

Steve just laughed him off, believing that he had scared Eddie into yielding and he was just giving one last dig to preserve his pride. Eddie looked a Nancy, but she was already staring at him. 

"What is it that makes you act like such a fool?"

"I'm not getting enough vitamin B."

Steve fumed. He wanted his fist to connect with that smartass mouth of his. "Let's end this right now. You don't talk to her...you don't look at her and you don't even think about her! You understand me?"

"I'm trying to help her." He said it like it was as plain as a pikestaff.

"Help me?" Nancy was insulted. "Why don't you work on yourself?"

"I did. I finished last Tuesday. Now I'm working on the rest of the world." He pointed at Steve, who looked about ready to swing. "I could help you, big boy."

"Spare me."

"I can help a lot of people, all they have to do is ask nicely."

"I'll kill you." Steve threatened with a clenched fist.

Eddie looked unmoved. He heard threats like that at least five times a day. "Well, I should just let you and everyone else who wants to kill me fight for the privilege."

There was a rumbling from beyond the library door. In a flurry of panic, everyone got themselves into position, acting like they hadn't moved an inch away from their seats. Eddie sat next to you again, accidently kicking your foot under the table. You kicked it back in annoyance. He did it again, only on purpose this time. 'What a child' you thought. You put your coat on the back of your chair and sat up straight, expecting Principal Higgins to come storming in.

Everybody visibly relaxed when Carl, the janitor, came rumbling in with his music playing quietly from his radio, dragging his cart behind him. He had a face you didn't quite know how to take; he looked friendly enough, but could turn at the snap of your fingers. He was skinny and stood at a height of 5"8, with a limp of a man who worked hard for his living. He smiled everyone, but the only one who seems the acknowledge him was Robin. She returned the smile and gave him a small wave, in hopes of being nice but not letting the others see. He went into the librarians office and grabbed the waste basket.

"Hey Sweetheart, your dad's here." 

You gave him an unamused smile and kicked his shin under the desk once more.

Carl came out of the office and dumped the basket on his cart. He left his cart in the main library and walked down the pathway to grab another trash bin at the back of the room. 

"Hey, Carl?"

Carl paused in surprise that any student here, with the exception of Robin, would talk to him. He turned around, but Eddie still remained facing the front, putting his back to him. 

"How does one become a janitor."

Everyone supressed a giggle, even Steve despite his dislike for Eddie. Only Robin remained silent. She didn't find it very funny.

"You want to become a janitor?" Carl raised an eyebrow.

"No I just wanna know how one becomes a janitor because Steve here, is very interested in perusing a career in the custodial arts."

Steve stopped laughing at that. Carl scratched his head. He knew that they were making fun of him. But Carl wasn't one someone should mess with. He turned off his radio, pulled off his rubber gloves and shoved them in his back pocket.

"You guys think I'm just a lowly janitor. Some fucking untouchable peasant. Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for five years, I've learned a few things. I read your notes, I go through your letters. I listen to your conversations. I am the eyes and ears of this institution. I know where you are now and I know where you'll be in the future."

Everyone exchanged worried looks as Carl moved to tower in front of Eddie. "You got ten years, max. Drugs. Rundown trailer in West Texas. Whore wife takes the baby, you shoot a fatal dose. Probable? Maybe not. Possible? Think so."

He turned to you. "You get married to a guy with lots of material success. Corporate position. Big bucks. Black Jag. You have three kids, nobody gives a shit. You get divorced and have a big fuckin' heart attack at thirty-eight, thirty-nine."

Steve was next. "District sales manager for a golf club manufacturer. Shitty little compact company car, twenty-two five a year and a wife as big as a boxcar."

Finally, Nancy. "Six face-lifts and two boob jobs by forty and a husband with more girlfriends than anniversaries."

He stepped back and put on his gloves. The stunned reaction on everybody's faces made him smile. "But I'm just a janitor." He shrugged.

And with that, he grabbed his cart, wheeled it around and headed out. He paused at the door and looked at the clock. 

"By the way, that thing's twenty minutes slow." He winked as he left and everybody groaned. 

~~~~~

12:30pm

~~~~~

Everybody was bored out of their skulls after the shock of Carl's speech had worn off. You took the time to think about what he had said. He had tried to put a downer on you, but the life he had predicted for you sounded like paradise, compared to now. Even if you did only have twenty years left to live. As crazy as it sounded, it gave you a bit of hope. There was a chance that you could work up the courage to leave Billy and meet someone nice, or at least wealthy. You had never given any thought about having kids, especially not with Billy, but now, maybe you could see yourself with a kid. You'd want a boy, and he'd look just like his father; Curly brown hair, big russet eyes, and a toothy smile. What would you name him? Would you name him after his father? Maybe Michael, or Christopher, James. Edward? You liked that name. 

Your eyes flashed to the door as it opened. Principal Higgins strolled in with a frown of his face, even though no one had done anything to upset him yet.

Yet.

"Thirty minutes for lunch." He declared.

"Excuse me Sir, I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place to eat lunch."

"I don't care what you think, Harrington." 

Steve sunk back into his seat.

"Uh, Dick?" Eddie cleared his throat. "Sorry, Richard. Will milk be made available to us? Someone like Steve could choke to death on a dry sandwich."

"I have a low tolerance for dehydration, Sir." Robin added.

"I've seen her dehydrated, Sir." Steve sat up again. "It's pretty gross."

You wondered if that was true, or if he was just playing along. The things he said about her, you wondered if they knew each other. Probably not, you brushed off the thought. They were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum, there was no way they knew each other.

Principal Higgins scowled.

Eddie stood and raised his hands like he was trying to calm a wild animal. "Relax, I'll get it."

"Ah,ah,ah. Grab some wood there, Munson. You think I was born yesterday? You don't fool me for one minute. I'm not having you roaming these halls."

Eddie plopped back into his seat with a defeated sigh. It was worth a shot.

"You." He pointed at Steve. 

He eyed up the other students, skipping over Eddie as he decided who else was most suitable to leave. You sank into your seat. You did not fancy having some alone time with Steve. Steve stared directly at the Principal before darting his eyes to the right where Nancy was sat, signalling for him to pick her. She sat up to make herself more evident. 

Higgins ignored them and pointed a finger at you. "And you. There's a soft drinks machine in the faculty lunch room."

You broke into a cold sweat. This was going to be the most awkward ten minutes of your life. Either Steve was just going to pretend you didn't exist, or he was going to absolutely grill you. You hoped for the former. 

As you reluctantly got out of your seat, Steve held out a hand to the others for money. Nancy took out a change purse from her bag and handed him fifty cents. Robin does the same with the loose change in her jeans pocket. Eddie fished through his coat pockets. He found some assorted change, crumpled gum wrappers, some loose tobacco and a screw. He handed it all to Steve. 

Steve made his way out, not even looking to see if you're following him. You do, of course, but you lagged behind him, not feeling particularly comfortable being alone with him. You counted your steps as you walked, fiddling with the delicate chain around your neck. It was a simple design: just your name written with gold, cursive lettering. But it was the only jewellery you never took off. Your parents had bought it for you when you had started cheerleading at eight years old. It was a reminder of when life was much more simple, when you believed that your parents actually loved each other, that they loved you. 

A minute passed and you already couldn't stand the silence. You dreaded it, but you knew this would probably be the only opportunity you would get to hash out your grievances.

"Why do you hate me?" A forward start, but at least it's a start.

"You know why."

"Look, what Billy did wasn't my fault --"

"Of course it is. If you hadn't been there in the first place he wouldn't've showed up."

"Hey, I didn't even tell him I was going to that stupid party. He was there anyway. If you hadn't come over and butted into our argument, maybe you wouldn't have that split lip."

"My parties aren't stupid."

"Is that seriously all you took from that?"

"No..." He paused. After hearing your side of the story, he was beginning to feel like a fool. "What were you guys even arguing about?"

You sighed. "Billy and I had plans to go to this drive in movie theatre. I don't think he wanted to watch a movie though, I think he was just hoping to get lucky." The two of you had stopped walking. Steve looked at you intently, encouraging you to carry on. You shifted on your feet. "If I'm being completely honest I didn't really want to go, but then Carol asked me to go to your party and I took it as an excuse not to go with Billy. I knew he would be angry if I cancelled our plans last minute, so I told him I was sick. Biggest fucking mistake of my life."

"So you went to the party and Billy caught you out in your lie."

"Yeah. Turns out one of his friends had asked him to go but he'd declined 'cause we were going on a date. He accepted the offer once I'd cancelled our plans."

Steve started walking again. You followed next to him this time. "I know Billy is a bit of a shitbag, but why didn't you want to go on your date? I mean, it seemed like a good time."

There was no such thing as a 'good time' with Billy. He had his moments, sure, but he was as cranky as a wet hen. Time with him was like trying to swim with rocks on your back. He sucked all the fun out of everything until you started drowning. You didn't tell Steve that though. 

"I just wasn't in the mood to be around him, is all." You brushed him off. "But he's bringing it up all the time, and were arguing all of the time. Even in school."

"Is that why you're here today?"

His question made you pause. He stopped a couple of steps ahead of you and turned around when he saw you weren't next to him anymore. You played it off like you were itching your leg and jogged up to him. The two of you made it to the teacher's lounge. 

The first thing you noticed was that it was very brown. The floor and ceiling had the same white speckled tile that ran throughout the entire school, but everything else was just ... brown. Brown wallpaper, brown leather sofas, brown table, brown countertop. Even the fridge was brown. The vending machine was in the far corner.

"Why are you here?" You asked Steve, hoping he hadn't realised that you hadn't answered his question. 

"Me? I'm here because my father and my coach don't want me to blow my ride." He started feeding the change into the machine. "They think my intensity's for shit. You see, I have a different set of standards. I get treated different because Coach thinks I'm a star. So does my old man. But you know what? I don't care. I'm not a star because I want to be a star, I'm a star because I got good legs and reflexes. I'm like a racehorse. That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."

You nodded, but you had a suspicion that that wasn't the whole truth. "Yeah, so why are you really here?"

Steve was annoyed that he hadn't managed to persuade you. "Forget it."

You studied the set of lockers on the other side of the room. You walked over to them out of curiosity, trying your luck with one of the doors. To your surprise it opened. 

Steve caught you out of the corner of his eye. "You really shouldn't be doing that."

Inside lay a set of keys attached to a green Hawkins High lanyard, a pack of cigarettes, a 'thank you teacher' mug, and a Prince's Purple Rain album on vinyl. Steve came up behind you, looking inside and letting the soda cans thunk loudly at the bottom of the vending machine.  

"This is a teacher's stuff?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah. Does this mean that they're actually human?" You laughed together for the first time.

Daringly, you pocketed the pack of cigarettes in your cardigan pocket and took the record. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, put them back." 

"C'mon Steve, when are you ever going into the teacher's lounge again? Besides, it'll give us something to do while were stuck in that god damned library."

You shut the locker door and brushed past him. You gathered up the soda cans, giving Steve his share to carry and made your way back to the library.

"It was pretty strange looking at teacher's personal shit, huh?" You said, examining the purple record sleeve.

Steve shrugged, he'd seen stranger things. "I went over to Coach's house for dinner once during the summer. It was really weird to see how he lives."

He paused, anticipating a question, but you just looked at him to carry on.

"His wife was fat. And one of his kids was in a wheelchair. It was kinda sad. He was a nice kid."

"If he invites you over to his house, why does he shit on you?" 

"He and my old man are working to get me a scholarship. It's not an economic issue. Scholarships make the newspaper. They think I have a shot at a full ride. They think I deserve a Big Ten school."

You simply nodded and walked through the library doors. The others were gathered in the corner by the comfy chairs. Eddie was holding a book opened to a page displaying a man with elephantitus to the nuts like he was reading children a bedtime story.

"How do you suppose he rides a bike?"

The clattering of soda cans on the table drew their attention away. They all walked over to grab a can. Before the others could take one, Eddie reached out and shook one furiously.

You look at him like he was crazy. Perhaps he was. "That's going to spray all over you."

"Not necessarily."

He put the drink back with the others and moved the cans around so than no one would know which was was shook up. 

"You're such a dingus." Robin bravely took a can first.

Everyone else followed before taking their seats and pulling out their lunches. You simply took out an apple, loosing your appetite after seeing a man with elephantitus to the nuts. You noticed Eddie didn't have any lunch as he surveyed everyone else's. 

"Where's your lunch?"

"You're wearing it." He winked. 

You curled your lip in disgust, but felt about as red as your apple. 

"You're nauseating." Nancy complained, opening her lunch.

"Look who's talking. You don't care what you put in your mouth." He eyed Nancy's lunch like she had just shown him a plate full of snails. "What is that?"

"Sushi."

"Sushi?"

"Rice, raw fish, and seaweed."

"You wont accept a guys tongue in your mouth, but you'll eat that?"

She scoffed impatiently. "Can I eat?"

"I don't know, give it a try."

The room went silent as everybody watched Steve pull out his lunch from a large brown grocery bag; three sandwiches, a family-sized bag of chips, an apple, a banana, a bag of cookies and a carton of milk.

"Are you really going to eat all that?" Robin asked in shock.

"No, I'm only going to eat half."

"What are you going to do with the other half?"

"Shoving it up Eddie's ass."

How charming. He reached for his can and everybody shrunk away, thinking it might explode. He cracked the tab. 

Nothing happened.

Robin took out a sandwich covered in saran wrap. She unwrapped it and pulled the bread apart, starting to work on it like a mad scientist. She tossed the meat away, blindly whipping it to the side. It slapped on the wall and stuck there. She reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out a bag of chocolate M&M's. She tore the bag open and dumped all of it on the buttered bread. Out of her coat pocket she pulled out a little baggie filled with Captain crunch cereal and sprinkled it over the M&M's. She closed the mess of a sandwich and took a huge bite. She noticed that everyone was watching her. 

"You are bizarre." Eddie thought Steve's lunch was bad.

She reached for her Pepsi to wash it all down. She put it to her mouth and popped it. The soda sprayed cleanly into her mouth. 

After the fizz was gone, she smirked at Eddie. "Nice try, dingus."

"What do you have?" He turned to you, watching take a bite into your apple.

You handed your bag over to him, rather than speaking with a full mouth. He started pulling things out. He pulled out a sandwich, a thermos of soup, which he opened and give a big whiff, and a bottle of water.

"Well Sweetheart, this is a very nutritious lunch. All the food groups are represented. Did your mom marry Mr. Rodgers?"

Eddie stood so he was front and centre of the room, all eyes on him. 

"This is my impression of life at our darling Sweetheart's house." He gestured to you and your face flushed.

"Hello, dear. I'm home from the coalmine." Eddie impersonated your father.

Eddie quickly played your mother. "Oh, hello, sweetie pie. Dinner's almost ready. I'm serving stuffing instead of potatoes." 

"My favourite!" 

His voice turned high and shrill, playing you. "Hi, Dad! Yippee, you're home! I danced in a skimpy skirt in front of hundreds of people today. I went to church and I wrote Grandma a letter. Now can I have a pen pal?"

"Dear, isn't our daughter swell?" 

Quiet and motherly. "Yes Dear, isn't life swell?" 

Eddie mimed your mother kissing your father, then father kissing mother, and then your father punching your mother in the face. Suddenly it was not so funny anymore. 

Your eyes were wet. You hated how much that hurt. It wasn't his words that hurt you, it was how much you wished it were true. 

You bravely stood up. "No, it's more like --"

"Dad? Is it okay if I shoot heroin?"

You lowered your voice, playing your father. You held an imaginary newspaper in your hands, not taking your eyes off it and pretending that you weren't paying attention. "If it'll make you happy, pumpkin." 

You extended your fingers and blew on them, doing your mother and her fresh nail polish. "What are you talking about, Frank?! How's she going to wear her Sunday dress with holes in her arms? We are going to church aren't we?

"It's okay. Never mind. I won't be a junkie." You said sadly.

"Now, just wait a minute. If you want to be a junkie--" 

"I'm not going to be the only woman at the congregation with a junkie daughter. Now what about church?" Your mother said.

"Go by yourself!" Said your father.

"With pleasure! I'm taking Y/N." 

"Over my dead body!"

"I love her more than you do!"

"Go to hell!"

Everyone looks at you with a hint of sympathy. Even Eddie.

"Do you wish they'd get a divorce?" He asked.

"No."

"Why not?" 

"I'd have to live with one or the other. And I don't know which one is worse." You laughed, but there was no humour behind it.

"Whose next?" Eddie ask, like he didn't already know he was going to single out Steve. Eddie pointed at him. "You're next."

"Yeah, no thanks."

"You an orphan?"

"I don't need to dump on my parents. Especially when they're not here to defend themselves." Eddie gave him a look like he was being chicken.

"What about your family?" Steve asked Eddie. He wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine.

"Mine? Real simple, pal."

He climbed onto the table, really setting the stage and getting himself into character. His eyelids lowered and his body moved clumsily, like he was drunk. "Stupid, worthless, no good, goddamn freeloading, son of a bitch, big mouth, know-it-all, asshole, jerk!"

He stands up straight, crossing his arms and raising the pitch of his voice. "You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful." His mother said.

"Shut up bitch!" He smacked the air, hitting his invisible mother. He yelled it so loud you were worried Higgins was about to storm through the door.

As his father, he threw a punch. Eddie dramatically dropped from the table and fell to the ground. He stood up, brushed himself off and took a bow. The show was over. 

"Then they make me work to pay off the dentist for the teeth he busts."

"Is that for real?" Nancy looks like she's going to start crying for him. 

"You wanna come over some time?"

She didn't want to believe that something like that could happen to anyone. Even someone as vexing as Eddie. Nancy decided then to never complain about her parents again.

"That's part of your image. I don't believe a word." Steve brushed him off. His re-enactment hadn't moved him at all. 

You wondered if he was right. You had been so truthful about yours, you would feel ashamed if he had lied about his.

Eddie actually looked hurt. "You don't believe it, huh?" 

He whipped off his red shirt and pulled up the sleeve of his black t-shirt. He shoved his arm in Steve's face, displaying a grotesque purple scar. Steve recoiled away from it, but Eddie forced him to look at it. You subtly tugged at the sleeve of your cardigan. You could feel the bruises of Billy's fingers purpling on your wrist.

"You believe that? It's about the size of a cigar." Eddie spoke through gritted teeth. "That's what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage."

Eddie was breathless with anger. His muscles were tensed up so tightly he thought he was going to give himself a full-body cramp. He needed something to calm himself down. Luckily, he knew just the thing.

~~~~~

<<<Previous // Next>>>

~~~~~

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[elwenyere]

I saw a post the other day calling criticism of generative AI a moral panic, and while I do think many proprietary AI technologies are being used in deeply unethical ways, I think there is a substantial body of reporting and research on the real-world impacts of the AI boom that would trouble the comparison to a moral panic: while there *are* older cultural fears tied to negative reactions to the perceived newness of AI, many of those warnings are Luddite with a capital L - that is, they're part of a tradition of materialist critique focused on the way the technology is being deployed in the political economy. So (1) starting with the acknowledgement that a variety of machine-learning technologies were being used by researchers before the current "AI" hype cycle, and that there's evidence for the benefit of targeted use of AI techs in settings where they can be used by trained readers - say, spotting patterns in radiology scans - and (2) setting aside the fact that current proprietary LLMs in particular are largely bullshit machines, in that they confidently generate errors, incorrect citations, and falsehoods in ways humans may be less likely to detect than conventional disinformation, and (3) setting aside as well the potential impact of frequent offloading on human cognition and of widespread AI slop on our understanding of human creativity...

What are some of the material effects of the "AI" boom?

Guzzling water and electricity

The data centers needed to support AI technologies require large quantities of water to cool the processors. A to-be-released paper from the University of California Riverside and the University of Texas Arlington finds, for example, that "ChatGPT needs to 'drink' [the equivalent of] a 500 ml bottle of water for a simple conversation of roughly 20-50 questions and answers." Many of these data centers pull water from already water-stressed areas, and the processing needs of big tech companies are expanding rapidly. Microsoft alone increased its water consumption from 4,196,461 cubic meters in 2020 to 7,843,744 cubic meters in 2023. AI applications are also 100 to 1,000 times more computationally intensive than regular search functions, and as a result the electricity needs of data centers are overwhelming local power grids, and many tech giants are abandoning or delaying their plans to become carbon neutral. Google’s greenhouse gas emissions alone have increased at least 48% since 2019. And a recent analysis from The Guardian suggests the actual AI-related increase in resource use by big tech companies may be up to 662%, or 7.62 times, higher than they've officially reported.

Exploiting labor to create its datasets

Like so many other forms of "automation," generative AI technologies actually require loads of human labor to do things like tag millions of images to train computer vision for ImageNet and to filter the texts used to train LLMs to make them less racist, sexist, and homophobic. This work is deeply casualized, underpaid, and often psychologically harmful. It profits from and re-entrenches a stratified global labor market: many of the data workers used to maintain training sets are from the Global South, and one of the platforms used to buy their work is literally called the Mechanical Turk, owned by Amazon.

From an open letter written by content moderators and AI workers in Kenya to Biden: "US Big Tech companies are systemically abusing and exploiting African workers. In Kenya, these US companies are undermining the local labor laws, the country’s justice system and violating international labor standards. Our working conditions amount to modern day slavery."

Deskilling labor and demoralizing workers

The companies, hospitals, production studios, and academic institutions that have signed contracts with providers of proprietary AI have used those technologies to erode labor protections and worsen working conditions for their employees. Even when AI is not used directly to replace human workers, it is deployed as a tool for disciplining labor by deskilling the work humans perform: in other words, employers use AI tech to reduce the value of human labor (labor like grading student papers, providing customer service, consulting with patients, etc.) in order to enable the automation of previously skilled tasks. Deskilling makes it easier for companies and institutions to casualize and gigify what were previously more secure positions. It reduces pay and bargaining power for workers, forcing them into new gigs as adjuncts for its own technologies.

I can't say anything better than Tressie McMillan Cottom, so let me quote her recent piece at length: "A.I. may be a mid technology with limited use cases to justify its financial and environmental costs. But it is a stellar tool for demoralizing workers who can, in the blink of a digital eye, be categorized as waste. Whatever A.I. has the potential to become, in this political environment it is most powerful when it is aimed at demoralizing workers. This sort of mid tech would, in a perfect world, go the way of classroom TVs and MOOCs. It would find its niche, mildly reshape the way white-collar workers work and Americans would mostly forget about its promise to transform our lives. But we now live in a world where political might makes right. DOGE’s monthslong infomercial for A.I. reveals the difference that power can make to a mid technology. It does not have to be transformative to change how we live and work. In the wrong hands, mid tech is an antilabor hammer."

Enclosing knowledge production and destroying open access

OpenAI started as a non-profit, but it has now become one of the most aggressive for-profit companies in Silicon Valley. Alongside the new proprietary AIs developed by Google, Microsoft, Amazon, Meta, X, etc., OpenAI is extracting personal data and scraping copyrighted works to amass the data it needs to train their bots - even offering one-time payouts to authors to buy the rights to frack their work for AI grist - and then (or so they tell investors) they plan to sell the products back at a profit. As many critics have pointed out, proprietary AI thus works on a model of political economy similar to the 15th-19th-century capitalist project of enclosing what was formerly "the commons," or public land, to turn it into private property for the bourgeois class, who then owned the means of agricultural and industrial production. "Open"AI is built on and requires access to collective knowledge and public archives to run, but its promise to investors (the one they use to attract capital) is that it will enclose the profits generated from that knowledge for private gain.

AI companies hungry for good data to train their Large Language Models (LLMs) have also unleashed a new wave of bots that are stretching the digital infrastructure of open-access sites like Wikipedia, Project Gutenberg, and Internet Archive past capacity. As Eric Hellman writes in a recent blog post, these bots "use as many connections as you have room for. If you add capacity, they just ramp up their requests." In the process of scraping the intellectual commons, they're also trampling and trashing its benefits for truly public use.

Enriching tech oligarchs and fueling military imperialism

The names of many of the people and groups who get richer by generating speculative buzz for generative AI - Elon Musk, Mark Zuckerberg, Sam Altman, Larry Ellison - are familiar to the public because those people are currently using their wealth to purchase political influence and to win access to public resources. And it's looking increasingly likely that this political interference is motivated by the probability that the AI hype is a bubble - that the tech can never be made profitable or useful - and that tech oligarchs are hoping to keep it afloat as a speculation scheme through an infusion of public money - a.k.a. an AIG-style bailout.

In the meantime, these companies have found a growing interest from military buyers for their tech, as AI becomes a new front for "national security" imperialist growth wars. From an email written by Microsoft employee Ibtihal Aboussad, who interrupted Microsoft AI CEO Mustafa Suleyman at a live event to call him a war profiteer: "When I moved to AI Platform, I was excited to contribute to cutting-edge AI technology and its applications for the good of humanity: accessibility products, translation services, and tools to 'empower every human and organization to achieve more.' I was not informed that Microsoft would sell my work to the Israeli military and government, with the purpose of spying on and murdering journalists, doctors, aid workers, and entire civilian families. If I knew my work on transcription scenarios would help spy on and transcribe phone calls to better target Palestinians, I would not have joined this organization and contributed to genocide. I did not sign up to write code that violates human rights."

So there's a brief, non-exhaustive digest of some vectors for a critique of proprietary AI's role in the political economy. tl;dr: the first questions of material analysis are "who labors?" and "who profits/to whom does the value of that labor accrue?"

For further (and longer) reading, check out Justin Joque's Revolutionary Mathematics: Artificial Intelligence, Statistics and the Logic of Capitalism and Karen Hao's forthcoming Empire of AI.

[wingwisher]

listen I know I don't always explain things well but I'm laughing about this cat drawing tutorial?

it is titled

Drawing a Cat’s Head: Learn How to Draw a Cat in Minutes

and the part of the process once you've got a reference is

grid paper

the literal next step is

a whole ass drawing of a cat

I love the internet

[fagboyfriend]

i rlly like ur composition, i wanna know about your process :D

thank uuu !! yeah so like. composing a scene for me generally begins with a vague idea that i want to get down as quickly as possible- and for me that usually starts with finding a setting. I knew that i wanted to draw a) a group of roomates gossiping in a crowded kitchen and i wanted there to be b) one figure in the extreme foreground and c) lots of plants. i do use some tools to figure out perspective, mainly the csp perspective ruler. Usually i start by finding a picture i like similar to the vibe im going for- but instead of referencing anything else- im purely interested in perspective. sorry to anyone who is shocked i dont generate all of my perspective purely by myself- i can draw in perspective fairly well but i struggle to make straight lines and this is easier to make grids with than the line tool lol ^_^ i try to use it kinda more like spellcheck on typos than like something to fully rely on. this is the video i learned this trick from:

i saw the left photo and realllly loved how the cabinets alligned with the wall- so i used my ruler tool to draw out my inital plotted points from the image- basically the linear movements i was most interested in and then i turned off the image layer and worked with those lines and the ruler tool to move on. eventually i had this:

which was enough for me to put my characters in for the inital round. if you notice- i made a looot of further adjustments as i go on. this sketch is not a final layout, its so my characters have somewhere to be! i cannot draw someone standing on a floor if theres no floor, nor leaning on a table that doesnt exist. i can’t draw my characters without a background, but i also cant finish my background without accounting for how my characters can comfortably exist in it!!

this was the like.. very basic start. i knew the positions of two characters- but i needed to change a lot not only to fit them better but to allow for the other two figures i had planned.

okay.. a little better. i widened the kitchen, closed the fridge door.. added a chair and fit in all the figures.. but this is waaay too dramatic. only two figures are actually interacting- and they are at wildly different energy levels!

this is where things started to make a little more sense characterwiss, so i was ready to refine backgrounds and figures and unite the two.

inital base sketch. much better layout.

okay- this is where im getting my footing but things seem.. really really off. You can see me working on my framing here- theres some good linear movement from left to right here- but not vertically. It’s hard to notice the figure in the far back, so i need to redirect the viewers eye to move upwards as well!

this is where i decided to zoom out, add an interesting vertical element to the left of the image and make it clearer whats happening in the foreground. i had to account for some stuff by adjusting the cropping, but i paid attention to that as well.

annnd- thats what a clean sketch looks for me! i have all the elements of my scene accounted for, and things are clean enough to read.

the next step for me would be transfer! essentially- I print the image of my sketch out, resizing and taping pages together so my sketch matches the size of the paper i want to paint on, and then i use a lightboard to transfer my sketch with pencil onto my paper. Then i refine the sketch a few times on paper before stretching my watercolor paper (essentially just prepping for painting) and inking with a brush and colored ink before going in with watercolor, gouache and ink, then usually finishing with marker, colored pencil, pastel and ink. it’s a lengthy process but a lot of fun lol. but sketches for me can be like.. 15 layers of different roughs until im happy with just the sketch. there were more images but im on mobile and theres a 10 image limit 😭😭 im a bit masochistic but i believe that if i dont have a good sketch i dont have a good painting!!

[toppersjeep]

Cold Hearted Angel - Max Verstappen/ Lando Norris

(Max Verstappen X Lando Norris X Reader)

Summary: You and Max work together. However you don’t get along with each other at all. You have never liked Max. But you pretend to since your are his PR manager. But what happens when Max learns about who you’ve been seeing on the grid.

Your POV

“Max you have a couple interviews soon” I said. “Yeah Y/N just give me a minute” Max said. “Max we gotta do these now I don’t have the time” I said. “Like you have anything better to do” Max said setting his helmet down. “Max I do have places to be” I said. “And I don’t care you can wait a couple minutes” Max said.

“Do you care about anyone else besides yourself” I said. “I do care about others Y/N but you don’t need to boss me around” Max said. “Forgive me for having a love life unlike you” I said. “What do you mean love life” Max said.

“Please I’m not telling you” I said walking out of his room. He followed me. “What is it another driver on the grid it is huh” Max said looking at me. “Will you shut up and get ready for these interviews” I said. “Y/N” Lando said walking over to me. “What’s up” I said. Lando looked at Max.

“Later for the quadrant video what time” Lando asked. “Whenever Lando” I said with a smile. “Okay great so umm.. ride out with me” Lando said. “Yeah absolutely” I said he smiled. “Okay great love see you later” he said kissing my cheek.

“Lando seriously” Max said. “Shut up please” I said. “Your so” Max said. “So what Max finish that sentence” I said. “You just look for attention from any guy on this grid” Max said. “Oh I do and how about you Max” I said. “What about me” Max said. “You are so cold hearted” I said.

“I’m cold hearted Y/N wow big words coming from you” Max said. “What’s that supposed to mean” I said. “If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have this job remember” Max said. “Who said I want this job all you do is scream at me” I said. “And tell me that I’m doing this wrong” I said looking at him. “Then go is that what you want” Max said.

“What”I said. “Max you can’t be serious” I said. “Why don’t you go be Landos assistant or whatever I don’t give a shit” Max said. “Max” I said. “You know what I really hope you figure your shit out” Max said. “Fuck you” I said throwing the papers at him. “Y/N don’t walk away” Max said.

“I quit Max I’m done” I said teary eyed. “You can’t just run away from this” Max said. “Watch me and I don’t need you to get a job” I said. “Whatever Y/N” Max said. I walked back to the Red Bull paddock to grab my things. It was time to leave anyways.

I met Lando out the paddock. He walked to me and hugged me. He then kissed my forehead.

“How was your night love” Lando said as we walked to his car. I put my bags in the trunk. I didn’t say anything to him. I just couldn’t. I was hurt. Max and I were friends for a long time. But I don’t understand why he acted the way he did to me tonight.

We got in the car. It was silent. Just silent.

“What’s on your mind” Lando said as we drove back to his place. “Nothing” I said looking out the window. He placed his hand on mine.

“You sure love” Lando said. “Yeah you know how Max gets” I said. “Doesn’t mean you deserve to feel treated badly” Lando said. “I’m alright but.. I quit” I said. “You quit being his pr manager” Lando asked. “Yeah I’m over it lan” I said. We got back to his house he shared with Max.

“Well guess what your hired” Lando said. “For” I said. “I need a manager for myself you know” Lando said. “Oh” I said. “Your first order of business is inside” Lando said. “Really what am I doing” I said. “Me perhaps” Lando said.

The following day…

I rolled over to check my phone. I had a missed call from Christian and Max. And a million texts from Max. But I really didn’t care.

“Baby come back to bed” Lando said. “Lando” I said. “Do I gotta be your boss and say it too” he said with a cute smile. I kissed his lips. “I gotta make a phone call” I said. “Alright” Lando said. I then walked outside on the balcony and answered it.

(M- Max Y- You)

The phone call:

Y: what do you want max ?

M: I just wanna apologize for last night I was a jerk

Y: not the word I’d use but sure

M: alright an asshole but I’m so sorry okay

Y: I still quit max

M: will you at least accept my apology y/n

Y: max I can but I don’t get you at all

M: I’m really sorry I just got a bit jealous I guess

Y: Of what Max Lando he’s my boyfriend do you get that

M: of course you don’t get it

Y: get what Max

M: I’d rather not do this over the phone I gotta go Y/N have fun with Lando

____

Max then hung up the phone. And the balcony door opened.

“Love you wanna grab breakfast before we go film the video” Lando said. “Ummm yeah but first may I borrow your car” I asked. “Yeah sure” Lando said. I threw some pants on and my shoes. I then grabbed his keys and ran downstairs.

“In a hurry” Lando said. “I’ll be back okay I gotta I deal with something” I said. “Alright drive careful” Lando said kissing me. “I will” I said.

I drove to Max’s apartment. I parked outside next to his car. I then ran upstairs to his door. I knocked a couple times.

“Max will you open up please” I said. “Why should I” Max said. “I don’t know aren’t we friends” I said he opened the door. “Friends” Max said. “We are friends” I said. “Of course you still don’t get it” Max said. “Get what you make no sense” I said.

He then pulled me into a kiss. And then I got it. How protective he always is over me. How jealous he gets over the other drivers that hit on me.

“Y/N… I’ve been in love with you for a long time” he said cupping my cheek. “Max..” I said. “What” Max said. “What if I can’t give you the answer you want” I said. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything” Max said.

“I… don’t know how to feel right now” I said. “I just I’m so in love with you” Max said looking at me. “Max” I said. He looked at me. I did love him. I had for years. But I got tired of waiting for him.

Then I met Lando. Someone who put me first. Someone who didn’t make me wait. Someone who made me feel loved.

“Now you tell me after I spent years loving you silently” I said. “All I wanted was you for the longest time” I said. “Y/N please don’t go” Max said. “But now that I have Lando you tell me” I said. “I should’ve told you a long time ago I know” Max said. I moved his hands.

“Maybe if you weren’t so cold hearted all the time.. you would’ve realized how much I loved you” I said. “I still love you but I can’t be with you” I said. “Y/N.. what am supposed to do” Max said.

“I don’t know Max” I said. “I’m sorry for treating you so bad sometimes” Max said. “Mmh” I said. “I just hope he… treats you well” Max said. “He does Max.. but sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like with you” I said.

I then walked away. And that was it. I had the last word. I didn’t wanna hear anything more from him.

I drove back to Landos place. He was in the kitchen making breakfast.

“All good” Lando asked. I walked over and hugged him. “Thank you” I said. “For what silly” Lando said. “Loving me” I said. “I’ll always love you” Lando said.

[holllandtrash]

blindsided | lance stroll

pairing: lance stroll x ricciardo!reader

getting your hopes up is a dangerous thing, a lesson lance has to learn the hard way. your connection was real, but what was it based on?

word count: 6.7k tags/warnings: some pining, some unrequited feelings, does it have a happy ending? maybe, maybe not thank you cay @oconso for that line you know the line

You were an enigma to Lance.

You were someone that he felt he should have known, but the two of you had never actually taken a minute out of your days to properly introduce yourself, nor did you ever find yourself in a scenario where you could have had a conversation.

As the younger sister of Australia’s golden boy, Daniel Ricciardo, you were in school and then uni while he was in his prime racing days. Your summers were spent with friends, every so often you’d go to a race or two, but your priority was not being one of those family members who attended as many races as you could, Daniel understood that.

By the time you graduated last year, Daniel had told you his future with McLaren looked unstable and he didn’t want you to attend his races, saying he’d much rather wait until he was back with a 'good team'. 

So you never had the opportunity to meet a lot of the drivers on the grid, Lance included. 

But there was still this strange connection to him.

His sister was dating Scotty, Scotty was Daniel’s best friend, you as well had spent many days and nights at Scotty's family home because he also treated you like a younger sister. 

And it was through social media and your name being brought up in passing here and there that Lance felt as though he knew you. He didn’t. He didn’t even know your middle name, didn’t know what you had studied, didn’t know what you were doing currently.

But he knew you had a good circle of friends, you posted pictures with them often. He knew you drank too much coffee for it to be healthy and it was probably an addiction at this point. He knew you were heavily involved in Daniel’s Enchante clothing line, usually being one of the models when a new collection dropped. 

He knew you at face value, but god did he want to know more.

When Lance stopped by Chloe’s place with a box of empty envelopes she had asked him to pick up, Lance walked in on her and Scotty going over their guest list for a final time. Lance paid them no attention, he dropped the box of envelopes down on the table and sauntered towards the kitchen as the plate of freshly baked cookies looked mouth watering.

His ears perked up when he heard your name, however.

“...did Danny say that Y/N would be able to make it?” Chloe asked, directing the question to Scotty. “We gave her the dates a while ago, but she never got back to me. Also isn’t she terrified of planes?”

“She is, but she’ll take a pill or two and it’ll knock her out for the flight,” Scotty nodded and Chloe rolled her eyes at his joke.

Play it cool, Lance told himself as he leaned against the kitchen island. “Y/N? As in Daniel’s sister?”

Chloe didn’t even glance up, “Yeah, I’ve only met her once but she’s-”

“She’s like a sister to me. If she missed the wedding I'd disown her,” Scotty joked. He rested his arm over the back of the chair and looked at Lance. “Have you met her?”

Lance pretended to think about it, even pinched his eyebrows together, but he knew damn well the two of you had never met, “I don’t think so.”

“She’s sweet,” Scotty told him, his lips curling into a smirk that Chloe couldn’t see. Always a menace. “You two would get along.”

Lance snorted, “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re both single.”

Chloe grabbed a sheet of paper and crumpled it up, tossing it into the chest of her soon-to-be husband, muttering something about staying out of other people's love lives. Scotty only sent Lance a wink before turning around again to give his attention back to the guest list.

Lance was single, Scotty wasn’t wrong about that. After just getting out of a relationship, he was, admittedly, lonely.

And it wasn’t that he purposely stayed single those months leading up to the wedding, but no one caught his interest. Or, if someone did, Lance would forget about them the moment you popped up on his Instagram feed. 

Your smile was similar to Daniel’s in a sense that it was wide and toothy, easily becoming the most prominent feature on your face as your eyes squinted, but aside from that and the dark features, the similarities stopped. 

As a Ricciardo, one might expect you to have the same bubbly and outgoing energy but from what Lance could see in the photos and videos you were tagged in, or ones you had posted yourself, you seemed to stick to the same circle of friends. You visited the same bars and restaurants because it was what you knew and within your comfort zone. You never went out of your way to make an impression on someone, happily letting your brother take on the more talkative role. 

Lance wanted to know if your laughter was as loud and more amusing than the joke itself or if that was only a trait reserved for Daniel. 

He was tired of trying to piece together who you were through pictures on a phone screen and still, the worst part about this was it felt as though he did know you. Lance had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t, that you never met, that the image he constructed of you in his head might be wrong. 

He wouldn't know until Venice. 

And you, well you thought you knew who Lance was too.

Danny had mentioned him a handful of times. You followed Lance on social media, even if he did have a tendency to be more secluded than other drivers, he still was pretty active when it came to liking posts, especially your posts. 

You didn’t google him, per say, but you were curious. Who was this Canadian driver? Aside from being the son of the team owner, there wasn’t much to learn about Lance besides his driver stats. Again, very private.

But he was cute. He gave off the tall, dark and mysterious sort of vibe, which was never really your type but the more you saw Lance’s photo appear online, the easier it was to forget about those blonde surfer guys that you would usually spend your time with. 

Lance seemed sweet, from what you could gather. And similarly, you felt as though you knew him too. It seemed odd that the two of you had never met and all, with your unofficial older brother marrying his sister. It was like you should have the same circle of friends or at least be able to call each other acquaintances but you couldn’t.

Daniel walked into his parents house in Perth, hitting a few envelopes against the palm of his hand and then the wall, basically demanding attention from his family until he flicked one of them towards you. 

It narrowly avoided your face and you flipped him off in response, earring a scolding from your mother, but it was easy to move past the sibling banter when you all opened the envelopes to see the wedding invitations from Chloe and Scotty.

“Venice,” you breathed out. “Jesus Christ, that'll be a pricey adventure.”

Danny didn’t have to say anything. His elbow nudging against your side was enough for you to know that he would help pay for the expenses. He was always looking out for you, for his family. You wished you could do the same, but at the moment you were just enjoying your first full year of being done with university. 

You grabbed a pen and checked off that you would be in attendance and then you hovered it over the box asking about a plus one.

“You’re not seeing anyone,” Daniel scoffed and then glanced over his shoulder to get his parents opinion on this. “Right? She’s not seeing anyone?”

“No one right now,” you corrected, letting the pen and invite drop to the glass coffee table. You could fill it out later. “Who knows? That might change.”

“Don’t invite someone to a wedding if you’ve been dating them for less than six months, that’s a general rule.”

“Says who?”

“Says everyone,” Your mother interjected. 

You just huffed out a breath of annoyance, “Well it’s a good thing the wedding is nine months away. I have time.”

Daniel stood up, but not before pushing you further into the corner of the couch, muttering a joke about how no one would want to date you anyway. Of course that prompted you to throw a pillow at him and your parents were left standing in the kitchen, wondering why they couldn’t just have one nice afternoon. 

Daniel, of course, wanted nothing more than for you to be happy, despite the constant teasing and lack of faith that you’d ever actually find someone. He knew you had high standards, he knew you didn’t trust easily and he knew you would never follow someone because you were in love or whatever. 

That’s why your last relationship ended. He wanted to move to Melbourne after graduation from university and even that was too far for you. Your whole life was in Perth, your home was on the western coast of Australia, you didn’t want to go anywhere else.

One time, Daniel tried setting you up with one of his athlete friends, someone else who was associated with Red Bull, but he was from Portugal, he travelled for a living and he resided in Los Angeles during his off season. You went on one date and you didn’t need to spend any more time with him to know you could never be in that sort of relationship.

Of course, this wasn’t something you shared publicly. Unless someone took the time to get to know you, your dating preferences would remain unknown.

You were private in that sense too. If you did talk to someone, if you attempted to broaden your circle and add a little romance in your life, you kept it to yourself. You were always paranoid about jinxing whatever fling you had so your friends were often left out of the loop. 

Your parents were a similar story. You didn’t live at home, you had your own flat, but you wouldn’t dare bring someone by for dinner or to meet them in fear that they would get their hopes up. It was one thing to date someone, it was an entirely other thing when parents got involved.

The one person you could trust, surprisingly, was Daniel. You weren’t ever seeking out relationship advice, but you knew his relationship with Heidi started out quite secretive for the first few years, only recently they decided to go public. So he knew a thing or two about wanting to keep a private life private.

So Daniel was the one you approached only a month before the wedding, eight months after you had rsvp’d to the event and checked the box reading no plus one. You waited until he was visiting home and you weren’t under the watchful eyes of your parents but rather the comfort of your own flat. 

“I have a favour to ask,” you started off, quite hesitant as you weren’t really one to ask your brother for anything. 

And Daniel listened to your request, assuring you that, if you were serious, he could probably pull some strings.

Key word being probably. Daniel couldn’t promise anything and by the time you got to Italy, he did what he could, but you still showed up to the Gritti Palace Hotel the weekend of the wedding with low expectations and a bunch of unanswered texts.

There was a private event in the restaurant and you immediately were drawn to the outdoor portion that overlooked the Grand Canal. The actual ceremony wasn’t until tomorrow, today was simply a chance for the guests to mingle and for the bride and groom to celebrate their last few hours with their loved ones before tying the knot.

With an aperol spritz in one hand and the other gripping the wooden railing above the channel, you took in the sights in front of you. The breeze was gentle and the scenery was breathtaking, stunning enough to make you forget that you were still feeling some effects of jet lag. 

Your back was to the rest of the party but your light pink dress that stopped just below your knee stood out compared to the white and beige decor the couple had chosen for this event. One could say it was because the colour was eye-catching, but there was no way to deny how well it accentuated your curves and highlighted your tan skin, making you appear as if you were truly glowing under the Italian sun. 

You definitely caught Lance’s eye.

You didn’t even need to turn around for him to recognise you. He saw your hair, dark and natural as it flowed down your back and he knew it was you. The girl he thought he already knew, the girl whose life he had been following through a phone screen for god knows how long.

It was just his luck that Daniel was nearby. Lance took a minute before heading towards you, wanting to confirm that yes it was you and yes it was alright if he spoke to you without crossing some weird driver line. He nudged Daniel’s arm and nodded towards the girl in pink. 

“That your sister?” Lance asked, clearing his throat. 

Daniel nodded, quite happy that someone else here knew who you were. It was always uncomfortable when you attended gatherings and didn’t know many people, it just made you want to leave early. 

“Yeah, you guys have met, right?”

Again, Lance played it off as if he wasn’t waiting for this moment, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Oh definitely go introduce yourself then, mate,” Daniel encouraged, which gave Lance even more confidence. “She’s shy, she'd rather drown herself in aperol spritz’ before ever approaching someone.”

Shy? Lance hadn’t pegged you for being shy. Introverted, maybe. But you seemed to have such a good group of friends and you went on adventures with them quite often that shy just didn’t seem like a characteristic of yours. 

“It’s not weird if I…” Lance trailed off, unsure how to ask the rest of his question. “It’s okay if I talk to her?”

Daniel laughed, finding the question to be humorous. He wasn’t in charge of you, who was he to have a say over who you could or couldn’t talk to, “I don’t care, just don’t be a cunt or I’ll have to kick your ass.”

“Deal,” Lance chuckled before he shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way towards the balcony you hadn’t moved an inch from. 

Lance wasn’t nervous, but he knew he should have been.

But again, it felt like he knew you. So he was comfortable enough to lean against the railing, not entering too much of your personal space, but close enough that you couldn’t ignore him. You turned your head, expecting to see your brother because as far as you knew, he was the only one here who would ever approach you, but you were pleasantly surprised to see Lance.

“Hi,” you said, already a smile on your face. Lance was someone you recognised. This wasn't a stranger approaching you, you could breathe. He was someone whose name you had heard quite a bit recently too, with his sister getting married and his good performances with Aston Martin. 

He was your brothers, best friend’s, soon to be brother in law. It was a long string that connected the two of you, but nonetheless, that connection was there. 

Which was why you already felt comfortable with Lance, even with this being the first time you’d ever met. 

“You’re Y/N right?” Lance asked. He knew damn well who you were. “I’m Lance.”

“Yeah, yeah,” heat rose to your cheeks at the idea of you being recognised. “Hi, it’s so nice to meet you. I feel like I-” you sucked in a breath instead of finishing your thought, not wanting to come across as overwhelming.

“It feels like we already know each other?” Lance guessed, because this was exactly what was going through his head too. 

Quiet laughter passed through your lips, Lance felt weak at the knees. 

“In a way, yeah,” you agreed, nodding your head. 

You had similar mannerisms to Daniel. Strong eye contact, saying ‘yeah’ to fill the gaps in sentences. Lance looked down at your hand and saw a few tattoos like that traced your wrist and a delicate design of a flower along your finger, similar to your brothers. Something that he hadn’t picked out from your Instagram.

The way you curled your fingers around the fragile stem of the glass caught Lance’s eye next. Your touch looked careful, soft even, and Lance wanted to know what it would be like to feel it for himself. 

And this wasn’t one sided. 

With Lance in front of you for a change instead of hiding behind Aston Martin admin approved photos, you could appreciate him in a whole new light. Social media and tv interviews didn’t do him justice, he was much more handsome in person. 

You liked the confidence he carried, even if he did seem a bit on the introverted side as well. You instantly got the impression that Lance was someone who stuck to himself but cared deeply about the people closest to him. He seemed like someone you wanted on your side, someone you could turn to at any time and know you would get a shoulder to cry on or a celebratory hug or even just someone who would really listen, if that’s what you needed.

You already felt connected to him, even though you knew you had no reasoning behind it.

“I’d offer to get you a drink but it’s an open bar and-” he eyed the aperol spritz in your hand. “-well you already have one.”

“I have two hands,” you teased, but your roguish smiles mirrored one another's and it was only a few seconds later when you and Lance were walking back inside towards the bar. 

He thought about dropping his hand to your back, but didn’t want to overstep. Contrary to what he might have wished, you had just met. 

But when someone stepped past him and Lance was forced to move closer to you, you didn’t inch away. In fact you looked at the point of contact at your arms and then glanced up at him, still sporting a natural pinky colour in your cheeks.

You didn’t really need another drink just yet but Lance ordered one for himself and when the bartender asked if you wanted a second, you just shrugged and said why not. It was an open bar, who were you to say no?

Lance and you stayed at the bar, getting as comfortable as you could on the stools as you fell into a good conversation. He was easy to talk to, like he was a friend from college that you bumped into by chance.

But even with the natural flow of the back and forth, you had to remind yourself that you were still just getting to know each other.

Within the hour you learned that his favourite colour was dark blue, that when he wasn’t focused on racing he tried going to as many hockey games as he could. The Habs, as he called them, was his favourite team and it took a few minutes and a bit of a history lesson for you to understand how the Montreal Canadiens got the shortened nickname. 

You learned he was not a morning person, whereas you thrived in the early hours of the day. He didn’t read as much as he liked to because of his demanding schedule, but you were quick to give him a list of recommendations based on what you thought he might enjoy if he ever did find time.

In return, Lance learned you studied hospitality and had a degree in Hospitality Management, with the goal of one day managing a hotel. When Lance questioned you more on that field you admitted that you actually wanted to take a lodge or a resort that was a bit of a fixer-upper and turn it into something great. You liked a challenge. Lance liked that.

Lance learned that you really enjoyed surfing and right now was actually the prime time for you to be getting ready for the season. While Perth wasn’t the best place in the world for surfers, it was perfect for you because it was never something you wanted to pursue professionally. 

When it came to the topic of travelling, Lance was surprised to hear that you didn’t do it as often as he assumed. You explained that everything you needed was on the west coast of Australia and you weren’t an easy person to travel with. You struggled with anxiety in airports, horrible jetlag, you overthought every plan, even if you weren’t the one in charge of the itinerary.

Travelling was a no, to sum it up. 

“But Daniel-”

“Travels all the time, yeah,” you finished Lance’s thought with a laugh. “Yeah we’re not alike in that sense. Even coming here was tough, but he told me there was no option to attend virtually.”

“Not a fan of planes?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Lance nodded, already thinking about how to approach the topic of trying to stay in contact long distance without coming off too strong. Sure he could ask for your number, but what if he wanted to see you again? Which he did. If a plane ride from Perth to Venice was a lot to handle, he could imagine a trip to Montreal was even lower on your list.

But Lance really liked talking to you, it was easy. It was natural. He didn’t have to try too hard, he didn’t feel the need to impress you. You laughed at his jokes, you understood each other's humour. The two of you clicked, it was impossible to deny that.

Which is what Lance hoped would happen. 

You were everything he had imagined and more and he was asking himself why he never tried to meet you sooner. 

That same question flashed through your mind too. Why couldn’t you have met sooner? After months of being forced to try and imagine what sort of person Lance was, it was heartwarming to know that the image you painted of him wasn’t entirely wrong. He was sweet, he was charming, he liked making you laugh, he knew how to keep a conversation going and it was obvious he cared to get to know you. 

These were traits you looked for in people, in a partner. 

But this chance encounter came a few months too late.

The conversation took a pause when Scotty appeared behind Lance, his soon-to-be ringed hand going to his shoulder as he gave both of you one of his signature smiles. 

“Y/N! Happy to see your plane didn’t crash!” Scotty teased, knowing your distaste for air travel. 

“If my drink was full I’d throw it on you,” you shot back. 

“Ah that’s just a waste of an open bar,” Scotty waved your meaningless threat off. “Honestly, though, thank you for coming. Chloe’s around here somewhere-”

“Lost your wife already?” Lance joked.

“Maybe she’s  a runaway bride,” you added. “She can still back out, you know?”

“Ha ha,” Scotty rolled his eyes. “Lovely to see that you two are getting along at my disposal.” He patted Lance’s shoulder and then turned to you, snapping his finger before pointing. “Did Danny talk to you?”

“Um-” you shook your head. Daniel and you hadn’t had a second to catch up since you arrived, despite the dozens of texts you had sent him. “No, why?”

“It’s all sorted out,” Scotty assured you. “It really wasn’t that hard to swing an extra chair, you gave us enough notice. The more the merrier, right?”

“Oh, Scotty thank you,” you breathed out. You reached forward and squeezed his arm in appreciation, but your smile was enough gratitude. It was the type of smile Lance had been waiting for. The grin that overshadowed the rest of your stunning features, the thing that had drawn Lance to your photos in the first place.

Only Lance wasn’t the reason for it. 

“Is he down here?” Scotty asked and this was about the time Lance realised he was missing something. There was a layer to this conversation that would tie everything together.

“Jet lag’s still getting to him.” you laughed, nodding your head towards the doors of the restaurant. “He set an alarm to get up, I’m sure he’ll be down here soon.”

“Can’t wait to meet him,” Scotty said with a nod, but there wasn’t much room for you to say anything else before he found a new guest he had yet to interact with. 

You looked towards Lance, but he was pretty good at hiding the confusion he was currently experiencing. In fact he played off needing to excuse himself pretty easily, you didn’t think anything of it when he said he needed to speak to Scotty about something quickly. 

Lance pulled the snowboarder aside, not at all mirroring his elated expression, “She has a boyfriend?”

Scotty tried to glance in your direction but Lance tugged on his sleeve to get him to stop in his tracks, not wanting to make it obvious they were talking about you. 

“She has a boyfriend,” Lance repeated, no longer a question. “You told me she was single.”

Scotty racked his memory for a second and scoffed, “Yeah nine months ago. Not my fault you waited too long to make a move.”

“How was I supposed to make a move when I hadn’t even met her?” Lance was clearly annoyed but he kept his tone to a sort of angry-whisper. “I was waiting for this wedding because I knew she’d be here.” 

“Sorry mate,” Scotty sighed, slowly piecing together that this wasn’t something Lance could casually blow off. “But I mean, you couldn’t have liked her that much. You don’t even know her.”

But in a way he did. And god he knew you felt the same. There was no way to explain the connection you two shared, but it was there. 

Lance inhaled a sharp breath, doing his best to keep from looking at you across the room, “I feel like I should say something.”

“Don’t,” Scotty immediately rejected the idea. “From what I hear from Danny, she’s happy. She doesn’t need you coming in and mucking it up.”

“But what if she’s-”

Scotty cut him off with a harsh laugh, “What if she’s what? The one? Lance, you just met her!”

“Then why does it feel like I’ve been waiting for her my entire life?”

Scotty let out a deep exhale, lifting his hand to Lance’s shoulder. He gave him a sympathetic squeeze, “Because she’s pretty and you’re lonely. Now let her be. Don’t ruin a relationship during my wedding weekend.”

He walked off shortly after, leaving Lance to, hopefully, make the right choices.

Lance should have listened to Scotty. He should have rejoined the party and leave you be, knowing that his chance with you was either non-existent or just extremely slim. How serious were you and this boyfriend anyway?

As if the universe wanted his question answered, the boyfriend himself walked into the restaurant.

The only reason Lance knew it was the boyfriend was because he saw the way you stood up from the bar and practically ran to him, your pink dress was impossible to mistake even as you hurried to work your way through the party.

Lance watched as your hands went to his tie to adjust it before he leaned forward and greeted you with a kiss. You played with a few strands of his dirty blonde hair, probably making some comment about how it looked like he just woke up. He laughed at whatever you said and Lance hated that you looked happier now than you had all throughout the last hour.

He was now trying to figure out if he had misread the signs. Did you even give him any signs? You sat and talked to him but it was Lance’s own fault if he misread that as being interested. 

How did he not know you had a boyfriend? 

Why didn’t you mention it?

Why wasn’t that one of the first things you said to Lance when he offered to get you a drink from the bar?

Why did Lance still feel that spark with you when it should have been reserved for your boyfriend?

Lance wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stood off to the side, questioning everything he ever knew about you, or what he thought he knew. But he came to and snapped out of his thoughts when he saw that familiar shade of pink headed towards him.

“Hey,” you said, your hand was connected to your boyfriend’s as you led him towards Lance. 

Lance smiled, how could he not when you approached him? “Hey, sorry, I went back to the bar earlier but you were gone.” Did he feel a little bad about lying? Yes, but it was easier to say that than to say, I stopped talking to Scotty a while ago. I just didn’t know how to interrupt you and your boyfriend.

“Oh, yeah, um-” You pulled the tall blond closer to your side. His hand went to your waist. “Lance, this is Matty. Matty, Lance.”

Matty held out his other hand to connect it with Lance’s. It was a firm handshake, maybe a little too firm on Lance’s part.

“Hey, mate, huge fan,” Matty said, similar accent to yours and Daniel’s. 

“Oh thank you,” Lance cleared his throat. “Hope you don’t mind, I’ve been keeping Y/N company.”

“I should be thanking you for that,” Matty laughed, the bitter tone from Lance going right over his head. “I needed a quick nap before this party. I don’t know how you drivers are able to just hop on planes so easily, I think I’d rather sail back to Australia.”

You guys were compatible, at least. Same fear of planes, same dislike for travelling. 

Lance didn’t like that. He knew he was the last person who should have an opinion, but he always thought it was opposites that attracted. Shouldn’t you be with someone that encouraged you to step outside your comfort zone?

“Oh there’s Danny and Scotty, I’m going to thank them for letting me come so last minute,” Matty looked towards the opposite end of the room to where your brother and friend were. He ran his fingers over your back and assured you he’d be quick before he headed off to talk to them.

“Last minute?” Lance asked. “So he wasn’t originally supposed to come?”

You laughed, “No, we’ve only been together for about six months. When I RSVP’d to the wedding last year I hadn’t met him yet,” you glanced towards Matty, “And then about a month ago I realised I kind of wanted him to accompany me here. Danny said it would be fine, probably, so he got a ticket to Venice but we actually didn’t get a confirmation until-” you chuckled again. “Well you overheard Scotty. I found out thirty minutes ago that Matty would have a seat at the table tomorrow.”

When you spoke about Matty, your face lit up. Lance couldn’t deny that. He could see how happy this surfer type from Perth made you.

And in return, you saw how Lance was no longer acting himself. He was tense, avoiding your eyes. You called him out on it, “Is everything okay?”

Lance should have taken Scotty’s advice. He should have said everything was fine and walked in the other direction, letting you go back to Matty.

But Lance was a hopeless idiot. He nodded his head towards the doors of the restaurant that lead towards a secluded hallway, “Can we talk?”

You weren’t sure exactly what Lance wanted to talk about but you followed him out into the hall. The music faded behind you when you walked far enough and Lance wasted no time in saying what was on his mind.

“Do you ever meet someone and it just feels right?” He asked. 

You hesitated, “What do you mean?”

Lance glanced back towards the party, “Like you see them and you just know there’s a connection. That they’re supposed to be in your life.”

“I mean-” your eyebrows pinched together, “Yeah. I’ve experienced that a few times I guess.”

That clearly wasn’t the answer Lance wanted to hear and his defeated expression told you that. He nodded, coming to his own understanding, one that you were having a bit of trouble following.

“Is it wrong if I say that’s how I felt when I looked at you?”

You stared up at lance, lips parted slightly as you did your best to ignore the devastating feeling of your heart sinking to your stomach. You didn’t have an answer, what could you even say to that?

Lance was practically admitting to believing in love at first sight and you, well, you didn’t see what he saw. You couldn’t.

“Look I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Lance continued. “And I don’t mean to blindside you like this, really. I think, well I think I was blindsided when I realised you were already taken.”

This was a lot to wrap your head around. 

You never intended to lead Lance on. You chatted with him for a while, yes but you tried to stay behind the line. You didn’t flirt, or at least you didn’t flirt on purpose. You could have said you had a boyfriend, but the truth was, it didn’t cross your mind when you talked to Lance.

Blindsided, he said. It seemed like a harsh word for the situation you found yourselves in.

“Were you blindsided or were you just blind?” You asked, dropping your shoulders to lean against the wall. You watched as Lance really took in your question and he rubbed the back of his neck, unable to come up with a good answer.

You felt for him, really, because you did like him. You liked talking to him, you liked his presence, he was someone that you knew you would get along great with. 

You also knew that if this situation were any different, if you showed up to this wedding single, you’d have probably, definitely, given Lance a chance. And this wasn’t something you should have been thinking about because you had a boyfriend. You were happy. Imagining an alternate timeline without Matty seemed wrong.

There was a connection with Lance, but it was one you couldn’t act on. 

“Lance, I think we both had an idea of who the other was before we came here, but we had very different ideas as to how this weekend would go,” you continued, a certain gentleness in your tone that Lance appreciated. “I was looking forward to meeting you. And we both agree that it feels as though we already knew each other...but the truth is, we don’t.”

That was a stab right to the chest for Lance, but he nodded in agreement.

“I guess I just thought this weekend would be the start of something,” he admitted, trying to play off the thought with a chuckle.

You wanted to apologise, it was human nature to want to sympathise with other people, but you had nothing to apologise for. 

Lance had constructed his own image of you and in it, you were single, you were compatible, you were willing to see this connection through and make something of it. 

And that’s what blinded him.

If he had taken a second to actually pay attention to what you shared on social media, he would have recognised the same blonde haired guy showing up in a few photos dating back to almost six months ago. All Lance paid attention to was you, your smile, you having a good time, your adventures. You were private about your relationship, yes, but you weren’t keeping it a secret either.

Lance just didn’t put it together until it was too late.

It hurt you, really. You didn’t like knowing you were the reason for someone’s sorrow. In fact you almost went as far as to say, if things were different…

But things weren’t different. You were with Matty. 

Was Matty the right person for you? Lance wanted to ask that but he knew he’d be crossing a line if he did. That was something you had to figure out on your own. 

After six months of dating, you liked to think he was. The timing was perfect, he treated you well, he made you undeniably happy. 

And yes, you could have looked at Lance and told yourself he had the same qualities. That he was also perfect, that he also could have treated you well. There was no doubt in your mind he could have made you happy if he was given the option.

But timing was not on your side. 

Lance licked his lips, taking a step away from you and closer to the crowded restaurant where he knew your boyfriend was waiting, where his family was waiting. You would both go your separate ways and return to how it used to be, following each other's lives through a phone screen.

“Right person, wrong time, huh?” Lance tried to joke, but the soft smile you gave him in return told him that there was some truth to his words, truth that even you didn’t want to admit to.

In an attempt to fix this, you spoke from the heart. Telling Lance what he needed to hear, even if you weren't fully convinced by your own words. As long as you sounded believable, you both could move on from this moment.

“If it’s the wrong time, then it’s probably the wrong person.”

Lance nodded, noticing the way you struggled to keep eye contact, something you hadn’t had issues with all night. He took that as a sign that it was time to walk away. From you, from this, from what could have been if they met only a few months earlier.

He turned and rejoined the party, plastering a painful smile on his face as he carefully made his way through the crowd to order another drink from the bar. 

He avoided you and your pink dress for the rest of the night, not because he wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do. And it wasn’t easy because to Lance, you were still the girl that he thought he had been waiting for this entire time. That would take time to get over. He had spent less than a few hours with you and it was the easiest, most carefree evening he’s had in a while, and he knew moving on from you would only be the opposite.

It was his own fault too. Lance was the one who got his hopes up. He was the one who was waiting for the right moment that never came. Or worse, it came and went without him knowing. There was probably a sliver of an opportunity months ago where he could have done something, could have asked Danny to introduce you, could have asked Scotty for your number. By waiting until the wedding, Lance had only set himself up for failure.

If it’s the wrong time, then it’s probably the wrong person.

He didn’t want to think about the way you said ‘probably’. He wasn’t going to. Lance knew you weren’t leaving any sort of hint, you were just letting him down gently, which only further proved how good of a heart you had. 

You were so kind, so caring, you were perfect, and you weren’t his.

You never would be.

[forlorn-plushie]

Games that only work here? Games that only work there!

I'm thinking about games that only work in certain mediums, specifically in the context of tabletop. So, I just learned about The Houses of the Sun by Night. One of the minigames within involves stacking dice.

I play almost wholly online. I don't think half of the people I play with have their own dice. Certainly not enough to build stacks with an equal versatility. We can't play the Damnation minigame!

I think, perhaps, games can (and should) be made with the opposite 'problem'. A game which in some essential way is still a TTRPG - being largely manual and, I think most importantly, run by people (this definition is off the top of my head - litigating it would be its own post) but which cannot be effectively played in person, or which can only be played on a computer. Video 'TT'RPGs.

Large tables and even more advanced generation which couldn't be done at a table.

Minigames which actually have the netrunner play a minigame, like a Bethesda lockpicking or hacking mingame.

Precise timers.

Hidden but definite enemy placement (a pain at the table, especially with more than one of them).

Exact calculations like true radii, height adjusted ranges, and even arc calculations that, while possible at a table, would be a huge pain - but in a virtual tabletop, they're easy!

Hidden information, shared without having to go outside or send someone to the next room

Inventory grids are cool in theory but kinda painful in paper. On a computer? far easier

Calculations that are easy enough to think about, but just plain slow/annoying to do repeatedly. I'm thinking of the Orbment system from the early Trails/Kiseki games (I have a physical setup that works, but it imposes a monotonicity requirement that can be a problem)

You can get away with a lot more math in general when it's automated, really. Frees up a lot of mental space, eases access for players who suck at math and rules memorizing, and even for those who are good it's still nice.

I think I'll mostly design my games to be played either online or at a table - but the idea of a minigame that is requisitely digital intrigues me. I have a website - I could host it. Your DM gives you an link with the difficulty ciphered into a parameter, you input your skill level or what have you, and you play it. If it's digital, you can stream it - if it's at a table, they're all gonna be staring at your phone over your neck (if there's not something else happening - they can keep playing while you work, of course).