#I’d have no issues if this was the final podium

[loenas]

Top three women after the short program 🫶🏻

[additiva]

oh god. i’ve read frechheit since it was only the first chapter out and i remember thinking: fuck i hope i survive long enough to read until the end of this fic because it’s just THAT good. for a little unnecessary background, i was a freshman going through my second semester and struggling with a lot of things but i’d always drop everything whenever i saw frechheit update.

i saw how the chapter count gradually went up as you kept updating, and i loved the progression of each chapter. your characterizations are by far some of the best i’ve ever read in any fandom. you nailed their mannerisms and speaking styles! and i love the way you write charles and max. it hits the spot so well. because very often you will find people saying that “oh charles is a golden retriever and max is the black cat” or “oh charles is the sunshine and max is the midnight rain” when the facts are that charles literally pushed max off as a kid and since then he’s been on a revenge spree to make sure max regrets it. max literally apologizes to charles even when he doesn’t do it to anybody else because he knows charles can hold a grudge. this is the same charles who max pushed off in austria 2019 and then got back at him in silverstone going “oh so that was racing? i’ll show you racing *insert angry hissy cat noises*”

i just love how max slowly goes from absolutely loathing charles’s little schemes to then understanding them and then finally getting roped into them. at the final few chapters it was so cute seeing max excited to be involved in charles’s manipulation tactics like that’s HIS baby with HIS evil schemes…

there’s so many things to love about this fic but ultimately it boils down to how well you write them. how, even in an alternate universe where charles is younger than max, they both start out hating each other, before falling absolutely, indeniably, irrevocably in love with each other. i love the way they grow individually and as partners—the way charles goes from angry hissy cat who has to do everything himself, to an angry hissy cat with his boyfriend who would give up the world for him. i love the way they love—charles learning to open up to max, max learning how to be patient with charles; charles always being there for max, and max slowly coping and coming to terms with losing at the end. the last one especially—those paragraphs of max detailing how it had been hard to stomach his slow defeat, but then when charles won he’d just been. Happy. he was willing to give everything up realizing winning wasn’t everything because he’d already found his everything.

and that’s just it, isn’t it? throughout the fic, charles and max learn to accept having to lose themselves before they reap the sweet sweet taste of victory at the end. winning isn’t everything anymore because now they’ve found each other and the best part is that they can win by each other’s side.

thank you for this amazing fic. like. honestly. i will love this forever. one of the best fanfics i’ve ever read in years.

P.S. i also found it very amusing when the fic mentioned a year where both charles and max suffered issues and the wdc ended up going to oscar and they both were cheerful but also. Yeah. Let’s never let that happen again. i bet they terrorized the grid for so long hogging the podium places, the wdc standings, and the wdc trophies that eventually the cooldown room gets called the lestappen podcast and each week the drivers get roped into becoming either 1) their unwilling third wheel, 2) their unwilling couples’ therapist for when they’re angry about trivial things like max accidentally making charles fall asleep without making him do his skincare routine, or 3) their unwilling child (ollie bearman).

Omg amazing.

This is the kind of message I save so I can reread it many times 🤍

It's so nice hearing from people who went through the whole journey with me since the earliest chapters. You truly saw the whole evolution.

I'm so glad it could bring you some joy when you were going through things. I hope things have improved for you, you deserve only the best. You're clearly a person who goes out of their way to brighten someone else's day and I hope you get the same energy back.

Also *angry hissy cat* is the perfect description for Frech-Charles at so many points in the fic I picture him this way exactly.

I hope you didn't mind me increasing the chapter count so many times 😅 I was truly winging the fic, based on vibes and a few key plot elements. You could probably tell lol.

[sisterspooky1013]

Parallel, Chapter 4/6

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

Mulder bobs his head along to the radio as they fly down a sparsely populated highway. When she’s not admiring the ostentatiously large diamond that now adorns her left ring finger, Scully takes notice of a myriad of incremental ways in which this world is different from her own. The music on the radio is unfamiliar and has an edge to it. The backs of all the street signs are painted hunter green, and the speedometer in Mulder’s car—which is a make and model she’s never heard of—reads in kilometers instead of miles per hour. It all feels like a store brand version of her favorite childhood cereal: close enough to pass, but not quite the same. She’s a bundle of nervous energy, tapping her foot against the floorboard and chewing her well-manicured thumbnails to shreds. Mulder gives her a few sideways glances, but gratefully doesn’t ask why an impending lunch date with her sister has her so out of sorts.

She’s gathered that they live in Malibu, which surprises her; she never imagined herself to be that brand of Californian. As they travel south towards L.A. she keeps expecting them to hit heavier traffic, but it never comes. Perhaps Los Angeles doesn’t have the same appeal here.

“So what do you say? Are we finally gonna hit that ghost tour on the way back?”

She looks over at him and is momentarily surprised not to see a suit clad, clean cut man in the driver’s seat beside her—not that she takes any issue with his snug jeans and fitted white tee shirt.

“Ghost tour? Does that sound like something I’d be interested in?”

Her tone allows the question to strike as either genuine or rhetorical, given that she’s not sure where his version of her stands on the subject. Mulder shakes his head with a wry smile.

“Maybe if you took more interest in it, you’d agree that a high percentage of recorded paranormal activity can’t be otherwise explained. I know you think there’s some simple answer like air in the pipes or a lens flare, but you’ve never actually given it enough consideration to have an informed opinion.”

Scully scoffs.

“It’s difficult to have an informed opinion on something that has absolutely no scientific basis. What am I to read or study? Are there peer reviewed resources on the existence of ghosts, Mulder?”

He gives her an odd look, and she worries that she’s offended him. Perhaps he is more sensitive than her Mulder.

“Why do you keep calling me Mulder?” he asks with a curious glance. “I think that’s the third time today.”

She gapes at him for a moment, unsure what to say.

“Sorry, force of habit,” she mumbles. Which is true, but also doesn’t answer his question.

“Well, no offense to your colleagues, but I find it a bit impersonal,” he says as he checks his blind spot and changes lanes. “And to answer your question, probably not. But a lack of peer reviewed resources doesn’t mean that there’s no validity to the field of study, it just means that people are too afraid of damaging their reputation to risk putting their name to it.”

She considers him for a beat. Her Mulder has never been afraid to risk his reputation. Sometimes she wonders what his life could have looked like if he had been. Maybe she’s looking at it right now.

“Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials, M–Fox?” she asks, clearing her throat to mask her slip up.

He looks back and forth between her and the road with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Honey,” he says with mock sincerity, reaching across the console to give her thigh a squeeze. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The conversation that follows feels so comfortingly familiar that it distracts her from what lies ahead, and it’s only when he pulls into a pay-to-park lot and kills the engine that she’s overcome with excitement and nervousness. She exits the car and smooths out her dress, and Mulder steers her towards a sprawling outdoor restaurant with a hand pressed to her lower back.

They approach a podium just outside the restaurant entrance, and Scully allows Mulder to take the lead. A tall, stoic man in a suit gives them a cursory glance before grumbling, “POC, please.”

“Mulder digs his wallet out of his back pocket and flips it open to show something to the man. The man nods, and then turns to look at Scully. “POC, ma’am,” he says sternly.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, looking to Mulder for help.

“I need to see your POC, ma’am, or I’m unable to grant you entry,” the man repeats.

“Did you forget your POC?” Mulder asks quietly, looking mildly alarmed.

“Um, I don’t know,” she says, reaching into the purse that she found hanging by the door back at the apartment.

She pulls out a small wallet and Mulder takes it from her, then flips it open and shows something to the man.

“Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Mulder, go ahead,” the man says, then resumes a statue-like posture, staring straight ahead.

Scully takes the wallet from Mulder, and as she follows him inside she looks at what he had shown to the man. It’s clearly identification, but she’s so confused by what she sees that she stops in her tracks.

Proof of Citizenship

Territory of California

Dominion of Canada

“Dana,” Mulder calls from half a dozen paces ahead of her. “Something wrong?”

“Um, no,” she says, stuffing the wallet back in her purse and walking quickly to catch up to him at the host stand. “Sorry.”

“We have a reservation,” he tells the hostess as Scully stares vacantly, her mind racing. “Mulder, party of three.”

“Yes, I see you right here. Your other party is already seated. Right this way, please.”

As soon as they round a corner into the dining room, Scully sees her. Her hair is longer and pulled into a low ponytail, and when she stands to greet them Scully recognizes the flowing skirt and linen top that she would expect her sister to be wearing. Her face is slightly fuller, slightly more marked by the passing of time, but it’s undeniably Missy. Grief and relief collide in her throat, forming a lump that brings tears to her eyes before she’s close enough to open her arms wide. A flash of confusion passes over Missy’s face and she glances quickly at Mulder before she accepts Scully’s hug, patting her back comfortingly as the tears spill over and wet her linen top.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Scully whispers harshly, clinging to her like she’s wanted to do so many times in the years since her untimely death.

When she finally pulls away, both Missy and Mulder are looking at her like she’s sprouted a second head.

“Are you okay, Dana?” Missy asks very sincerely, her eyebrows knit with concern.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ve just…I’ve really been looking forward to seeing you,” Scully says, swiping the tears away from her cheeks.

They sit down and Scully scoots her chair as close to Missy’s as possible without drawing more attention to her odd behavior, and she tries not to stare. They order their meals and Scully peppers Missy with innocuous questions that allow her to gather bits and pieces of information. Missy lives in Vermont. She does some kind of alternative healing work. She appears to be unmarried. Shortly after their entrees arrive, Mulder gets a phone call and excuses himself from the table.

“Okay, spill it,” Missy says, throwing her napkin down on top of her plate and crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?” Scully asks innocently, even as she feels her cheeks get hot and her heart begins to race.

“You’re acting completely bizarre, Dana,” Missy says resolutely. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Fox, but something is obviously up with you. So what is it?” Scully freezes, and for a moment she debates just telling her the truth. Missy, of anyone, might actually believe her, second only to the Mulder of her dimension. “Are you having doubts about the baby?” Missy finally asks, and Scully sighs with relief.

“Maybe, just a little,” she says, playing along. “The baby, but also…” She looks at her sister, who is listening raptly with an intensity in her eyes that has always reminded Scully of Ahab. So many times in the years since her death Scully has wished that she could call her for advice and guidance, especially when it comes to her relationship with Mulder. And now she’s here, for probably the last time ever. “Do you think Fox and I are good together?” she asks.

Missy is so taken aback by the question that her eyes go wide and she cocks her head back.

“You’re questioning that?” she asks, leaning in. “Are you having problems?”

“No, not necessarily,” she answers honestly. “I mean, we have our conflicts as anyone does, but nothing in particular.”

“So what would make you ask me that?”

“I don’t know,” Scully huffs, frustrated with herself. “We’re so completely different, Missy. Sometimes I wonder what he even sees in me. All I do is shoot down his ideas, and all he does is irritate the absolute shit out of me.”

Missy laughs, and Scully frowns at her. She didn’t mean for the comment to be funny.

“That’s why you’re good together, Dana,” Missy says with a sympathetic smile. “You’re like night and day in many ways, yes, but you can’t have one without the other. You balance each other out. I mean my god, think about how completely uptight you were before you met him. On your wedding day I thanked him for finally pulling that stick out of your ass.”

Scully’s mouth drops open in surprise and then curls into a smile.

“You did not,” she says, slapping Missy’s arm playfully.

“I absolutely did,” Missy teases back. “You need him, Dana. He’s your counterweight. And he’s so in love with you it’s disgusting.”

Scully sits back in her chair, feeling like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders. Missy checks her watch and the realization that they have a limited amount of time left makes Scully scramble for anything else she might like to ask.

“Can I see your POC?” she asks, and Missy quirks her head but hands it over.

Proof of Citizenship

Territory of Vermont

Dominion of Canada

Mulder reappears at the table and asks their server for the check, and shortly thereafter the three of them are back in the car en route to LAX. As they follow the signs directing them to departures, Scully’s chest starts to ache, and she wishes that she could slow time down. For the first time she thinks it might not be so bad if she never leaves this place. Staying in a world where Mulder is her doting husband and her sister is still earthside is hardly a downgrade.

“Call me soon,” Missy says, wrapping her up in a tight hug on the sidewalk outside the terminal. “And don’t do anything stupid,” she whispers.

Scully nods, pulling away just slightly so she can see Missy’s face.

“I love you, Missy. You’re a great big sister,” she says sincerely, blinking away the tears in her eyes.

Missy touches her cheek, then gives her a long look. Scully has the distinct impression that she’s seeing something that she hadn’t noticed at the restaurant.

“You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Dana,” she says softly. “It’s okay to make the wrong choice now and then, just to see what happens.”

Scully nods emphatically, then hugs Missy again. She doesn’t want to let go.

“She has to go, Dana,” Mulder says gently, rubbing her back.

Scully steps away, and Mulder pulls her close as they watch Missy walk into the terminal. When she disappears into the crowd, they get back into the car and drive in silence for a handful of miles. Scully feels shell-shocked and empty, and when Mulder reaches across the console and grabs her hand, tears begin to fall quietly down her cheeks.

“You okay?” he asks, and she nods.

“I just really miss her,” she chokes out, and he squeezes her hand.

“We’ll see her soon, Dana. She’s going to be at your parents’ house for Christmas.”

It takes a few seconds for her to register what he said. She turns her head toward him slowly.

“My parents’?” she repeats. Plural. Two.

“Yeah, your dad offered to pay for her ticket,” he adds casually.

Ahab. Of course he’s alive. Why else would she have his number in her cell phone? She has to find a way to be here for Christmas. She has to find a way to stay forever.

As soon as the thought enters her mind, she dismisses it. This isn’t her life. This isn’t her Mulder. He’s still somewhere out there, replete with scars and traumas and baggage beyond this tan, carefree Mulder’s wildest imagination. And she still loves him in a way that she’s only beginning to understand.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[lucy90712]

Marc Marquez- Enemies

Signing for the pramac team and getting to race in MotoGP was something I'd dreamed of for many years and I was so excited about it but it has turned out to be my worst nightmare. You see when I got to race once in the class as a replacement rider I managed to make an enemy without really trying who has been ruining my life now that I'm here permanently. I thought that I was racing well and being respectful of everyone there at the time but clearly Marc Marquez didn't agree or found some other reason to dislike me because now he really seems to hate me. Even when I went back to moto2 I was always hearing his opinion on my racing and he seemed to be friends with everyone else but me which was really frustrating as I just wanted to be civil with him I mean we didn't have to be friends but no he chose enemies. That didn't change one bit when I moved to MotoGP if anything it got worse as it always seems like he pulls silly manoeuvres just on me during races or will pull up behind me when doing practice starts just to psych me out.

Last season I let him get the best of me towards the end and said and did some stupid things which I really regret but I'm determined not to do the same this season. I have moved up to the factory Ducati team this year after doing pretty well last season and I'm determined to show them what I can do and prove that it was the right decision to give me the ride. So far this season I've done pretty well not finishing outside the top 10 apart from one time the brakes broke and I had to jump off the bike and getting a few podiums but it's been a struggle to adapt to the bike as it has so many different features but recently I feel like I've been doing better especially as I was just a tenth off the win at the last race. At this race I'm determined to finally get my first win with the team and get them some good points for the championship.

Typically this weekend we are at Sachsenring where both me and Marc are really good. The team have been telling me not to have expectations as the track isn't really suited to the bike but I'm determined to do well here and show Marc that he has some serious competition. Since I moved to Ducati me and Marc have become each other main rivals as we both end up on about the same lap times and roughly in the same positions in the race and now he's just a few points ahead in the championship which I'm looking to close even more in this race. We are yet to go out on track but I'm really feeling confident and I've been watching the last few years races in between to study the track as well as where the bike seems weak so I know where I can and can't push which I'm hoping will play to my advantage as long as I've interpreted things correctly.

The media attention this weekend has been insane and I've done more interviews than ever all because this is where they believe they will really see mine and Marc's rivalry come to the surface. Usually I wouldn't like too much attention but I've been trying to use it to my advantage and get my name out there as a serious contender for the championship fight. The biggest problem with this is that there are constantly cameras in my face like now that we are preparing for fp1 there is at least 4 cameras on my garage with 3 of them focussed directly on me which is an issue as they always break my focus when I'm trying to get into the zone. Eventually I had enough and just sat on the bike in front of the garage with my helmet on to help block everything else out until the team were ready for me to go.

Like always I was one of the first out on track and set an early lap time before coming in again to see how it compares to what others did. My time was pretty good but Pecco was a few tenths quicker which meant there was room to improve so I hoped back on the bike and head down pit lane but when I turned around to make sure I wasn't too close to anyone Marc was coming out his garage right behind me. Generally I don't mind him following me as it means I'm faster and he wants to use me as a marker or for slipstream but this weekend I didn't want him to as he probably has a slight edge on me so using my slipstream would only make him faster but I guess that's what racing is all about. After another set of laps I came in to check the data before one last time attack and just as I got in they put a replay of one of my laps where Marc got incredibly close behind in a corner and was inches away from taking me out, it was hard to watch it was that close but luckily I didn't notice actually on track so I didn't lose focus.

~~~~~~~~~~

Every other practice ended much the same way with Marc following me around even when I pulled out of a lap he would do the same just to stick with me. His little plan wasn't working though as I have the quickest lap time going into qualifying with him 4th. Through the weekend I've been predicted to get pole which I would love but Pecco is also looking really good and seeing as we have the same bike there's a good chance he could beat me to it. For some reason this weekend I'm really feeling the nerves which is unusual as I mostly only get nervous right before the start of a race not for qualifying but today I'm all over the place. My nervousness must be quite obvious as the team have been trying to help keep me calm and even Pecco has been trying to help which was sweet but it hasn't really worked I'm still just as nervous which isn't what I want when trying to get my first pole position.

As qualifying got closer I watched q1 to see the lap times and who was coming through and their times weren't that near what I knew I could do so that calmed my nerves a little but when it was time to get on the bike all the nerves came right back. For qualifying the team wanted me to go out alone first before coming back in and going out with Pecco so we could help each other which I was fine with as it would be good for the team if we could both qualify on the front row. The plan quickly went wrong when I left the garage and Marc followed right behind me for the whole outlay and then got even closer when we both started our first flying laps. This didn't got well for him though as he went in too fast on one corner and had to hold back a bit while I set the fastest time in the session and then slowed down so I could go back to the pit which I did and the team went over the plan again. I went out first with Pecco right behind me as he was currently 5th but as we were going down pit lane Marc cut in between us and I wanted to slow down to get back to position but I didn't want a penalty so I had to keep going and hope that Pecco could use Marc as his target instead of me.

All of that threw me off my first lap a little bit and I made a few mistakes but I had one more go at it so I put my head down and forgot all about everything around me and focussed on doing a good lap. As I crossed the line I felt good but I had no idea where I actually qualified as there were more people still to taken the checkered flag and most of them had red sectors from what I could see on the screen. Getting round to the practice start area I kept checking every screen until everyone had crossed the line and I was still on pole. I actually got pole position, my first pole position at probably the most important race for me which felt so good as I've been waiting for this day for forever. While checking the screen I saw that Pecco got 2nd and Marc was 3rd which meant that hopefully I had a bit of protection at the start of the race from Marc and his antics.

Getting into parc ferme the whole team were excited and they all congratulated me even if they were part of Pecco's side of the garage which juts goes to show how close the entire team is. Pecco himself came over to congratulate me too because as much as we are rivals on track we are good friends off track and always happy for one another even if it means getting beaten. Marc on the other hand wasn't quite as nice he simply came over and patted my back before walking to his interview without saying a word which has become the norm with him even when I make an effort to properly congratulate him. Just when I thought that I would be done with his antics for the day I had to do my interview and the first thing they asked was my response to a comment Marc had made about how I wouldn't be a threat in the race as I was really pushing just to put that lap time in. Hearing what he said really hurt as when I have worked to hard to get to where I am right now and to get my first pole position is something I've been excited about since I joined the class and to have it ruined because of one stupid comment is really annoying. Not to mention that when I was younger I really looked up to Marc as he was achieving great things and breaking records which is what I dreamed of doing so for him to hate me so much for seemingly no reason ruined all those childhood memories of watching races and wanting to do what he did.

~~~~~~~~~~

After many interviews and press conferences all questioning my ability to hang on in the race or asking about Marc I wasn't excited about my pole position anymore and I'm still not even now that the race is starting in under and hour. I just can't bring myself to be excited about it when I know how tough the race is going to be and that everyone's eyes will be in me to see if I succumb to Marc's predictions. Usually before a race I'm a bit nervous but adrenaline usually takes over and makes me excited to get out on the bike but today I'm the opposite there isn't a single shred of excitement I'm just dreading having to go out there in case I fail and ruin the good reputation I have built for myself. To calm myself down I often watch whatever race is on before and today is no different but while stood at the pit wall I found my mind drifting to thinking about how I would take each corner and what I would do if I was overtaken at a certain part of the track which is not at all what I was going for.

Eventually it came time for the race to start and all the mechanics had left the grid meaning it was all down to me now and no one could do anything to help me. Luckily the warm up lap was first which helped me to feel more confident as the bike felt good just like it had all weekend despite changing a few things for the race. Once back in my place on the grid the lights came on and I watched them closely waiting until they finally disappeared which is when I set off. My start was pretty good but the bike was a little out of control into the first corner but I kept it together and came out the first corner still in first which was great but it meant I had no idea who was behind and if Marc had managed to pass Pecco or if someone else entirely was there. By the 3rd corner I really got into the race and forgot about who might be behind me and just focussed on myself and my race as otherwise I knew I'd start to make mistakes which is not what I want to do.  

After 5 laps Marc caught up to me and kept attempting to overtake but he could never make it past as I either out-braked him or simply didn't let him past which made the crowd cheer every time which spurred me on to keep going as they enjoyed the fight and so did I. For once I was winning the battle with Marc as usually he can get the best of me but today I'm not going to let it happen this is my race and I won't settle for second just to not ruffle some feathers. After a few more laps Marc made a mistake and went incredibly wide which I took advantage of to create a few tenths gap which made me feel a lot more comfortable. The gap increased lap by lap for a good majority of the race but in the last 5 laps it started to close no matter how hard I pushed my tyres were just gone and I was losing grip. As much as I didn't want to I had to let Marc catch me and hope that I could do what I did earlier and hope that the tyres didn't let me down.

Marc quickly caught me and passed a few times but each time got him back almost instantly that was until he went up the inside when there wasn't really a gap for him. Instantly I felt myself losing control and the next thing I knew I went tumbling into the gravel eventually stopping with Marc's bike on top of my ankle which was throbbing with pain. As much as I was in a lot of pain I was more angry than anything as I was on to win my first race but as usual Marc had to go ahead and ruin it by making a stupid manoeuvre. He ran over and attempted to pick his bike up and I wanted to tell him to go away but I wanted the bike off my foot more so I let him try although in the end he needed help from the marshals who took what felt like forever to arrive. Once the bike was off my foot Marc helped me walk to the moped that was waiting for us which he drove to the medical centre where my team were waiting to help me. They assessed me in the medical centre and I had just dislocated my ankle which was a relief as everyone in the team was worried it was broken but I hadn't and I should be able to recover quickly enough for the next race.

When I left the medical centre Marc was sat outside waiting so when I came down the steps he tried to talk to me but my crew chief stopped him as he knows about our rivalry and how much Marc annoys me but for once I actually wanted to talk to him and see what on earth was going through his head when he made that move. We went back to my motorhome so I could sit and rest my ankle and so we could talk in private but it was awkward as we both sat down in complete silence for a few moments not being used to being in the same room as each other.

"Y/n I'm so sorry about that I shouldn't have gone for that gap and I feel so bad that I hurt you" Marc said breaking the silence

"I'm not bothered about this race as much as it's frustrating I just want to know why you hate me so much and don't tell me you don't because it's so obvious" I said just waiting answers once and for all

"You aren't going to believe me when I say it" Marc comment

"We'll just go ahead and say it and we'll find out if I believe you" I quipped urging him to spit it out

"Well when you first came in as a replacement and I saw you during media I thought you were amazing but then you were better than me and I felt threatened as people kept comparing us and saying you were giving me a run for my money and I hated that so I then hated you" he explained

"Wait so just because I was better you hated me?" I questioned

"Yeah and it didn't help that I thought you were incredibly beautiful and I didn't want to catch feelings so I pushed you away in anyway possible which didn't work at all because I ended up catching feelings" he added

It took me by surprise that he liked me in that way because when we first met I was attracted to him but because he had been so awful to me I had pushed those feelings to the back of my mind as I thought he clearly didn't feel the same. Hearing him say that made me relive the first time I met him and how I said to my friends that I was going to struggle to focus if he was around. Oh how things changed very quickly but those thoughts didn't go away they were just overshadowed by the rivalry we both had.

"You know I felt the same when we both met and I would have loved to be friends at the very least but I couldn't take the way you treated me" I explained to him

"Can we maybe try this again and go out to dinner or something even if it's just as friends to get to know each other and forget about this rivalry?" He asked

"I'm up for that but if you knock me off like that again it's all over" I joked

We both hugged each other and agreed to do out together when I was feeling better s d if you'd have told me that I would be happy about that just a few hours ago I would have laughed at you but here we are. It felt good that we had seemingly made up and could put this stupid rivalry behind us and become friends or even maybe more if all goes well which I wouldn't be against.

[ninjagirlstar5]

Protag Teruya AU - Prologue Part 2 - The Fake Trial

TWs: Discussions of a Murder Case

Body Discovery & Investigation | Post-Fake Trial

Prologue Part 1 Beginning

Disclaimer: While Sannotori is problematic, it’s a thing in this AU/fic and the dynamic is not the same as it is in canon.

The Protag Teruya AU was inspired by @/anotherprofessional’s post! Beware of Void spoilers though!

“Since you are merely solving how the murder took place in the past, there will be no voting involved in this class trial.”

“Uhh…voting?” Kanade spoke up, her voice a bit more firmer than before. “Why would there be voting?”

“Using evidence you gathered during the investigation, you will argue what you believe happened to the victim. If you all manage to come to an agreement on the explanation, then you’ve succeeded in solving this murder. But if none of you are able to solve this murder…well, I’ll leave that as a surprise. That’s all there is to it. Good luck.”

“...Sounds like our kidnapper isn’t interested in answering any of our questions, Kanna.” Setsuka said, crossing her arms in displeasure. Kanade frowns in response but says nothing else. Kokoro taps away on her tablet before speaking up.

“Well, we should at least start somewhere. I have a good topic we can discuss if no one else has any ideas.” The psychologist props her tablet up on her podium, presumably for easier access.

“If leaving this damn courtyard was an option, I’d be turning on my heel and walking on out of here in a heartbeat!” Nikei yelled out, being only a few spots away from Kokoro. His shouting probably would’ve been an issue for anyone that was standing between them, but the podium was empty. Afterall, a sixteenth student was pretty much nonexistent in this class. “But no, as if getting kidnapped wasn’t bad enough, we’re all stuck on an island with a cruise ship we’re completely locked out of!”

“It’s not like any of us would know how to steer the ship anyways.” Mikado buds in. Nikei brings his glare towards the wizard, who was completely unperturbed by it. “But that’s besides the point. Back to what you were saying, Ms. Mitsume?”

“Thank you, Mikado.” Kokoro said, grateful that the topic was being shifted back on course. Her head faces straight ahead but her gaze shifts towards Nikei as she speaks. “Since the culprit of the case is…irrelevant to this trial, we should be figuring out how the victim was murdered.”

“Didn’t the tablet explain that already? Why should we spend time on something we already know?” Hibiki was quick to reply, her rash and irritable voice adding to the tense atmosphere. Mikado blinks his eyes. Or rather, his mask blinked.

“What tablet?” He asked and it was only then that the amnesiac remembered that Mikado never got the final clue. Feeling a little bit embarrassed for forgetting, he speaks.

“Oh, uh…there was a box of tablets called the…’Monocrow File’ that explained the…state of the victim. But it vanished along with the fountain. So, um, here. You can borrow mine.” He takes his backpack off and pulls out the tablet. Mikado thanks him and takes it from his hand, turning it on to read.

“While the tablet listed her wounds, it didn’t explain how she got them. It may be best if we start there before we can discuss anything else.” Kokoro moves the conversation along, even though Mikado probably still needs a few minutes to read the Monocrow File.

“If you ask me, it seems kinda obvious.” Emma said with a hand on her hip, her eyes to the floor as if she had figured something out. Kokoro actually raises an eyebrow at her before nodding her head. A silent ‘go on’ if he ever saw one.

“Oh y-yeah? Was there something we missed?” Shinji asked, stuttering through his words while facing the actress but genuinely curious as he had been guarding the crime scene the entire time.

“Well, there’s a knife, isn’t there?” Emma crosses her arms as she faces everyone’s gaze.

“There was an actual knife at the scene?!” Yoruko flinches at the information, genuinely scared of the thought of a weapon. Of course it would make sense that a weapon was found at the crime scene. But he can feel confusion settle into his brain with those words as something didn’t make sense in his head.

“I-If there was a knife, it’d make sense that it’d be the weapon, right?” Iroha stutters out, lifting her sketchbook up as she tilts her head. His eyebrows scrunches up tightly as he frowns.

“Uhh…I don’t think that’s right.” He said, hoping to catch their attention. He does, but Emma was frowning in his direction now.

“And why is that?” Emma calls out, putting her hands on her hips. “You can’t just say that without explaining.”

“That’s, uh, I mean…” He stumbles over his words, trying to find a way to explain himself. However, the fog in his brain refuses to lift like he was unable to connect the dots together. He knows something isn’t right but he struggles to find the reason why.

He scrambles his brain to say something, anything.

But everyone’s gazes were on him now, pressurizing like a tank that was being overwhelmed with too much air.

His throat tightens as sounds that are barely strung together like words escape his mouth. He knew he couldn’t leave everyone hanging like this so he forced himself to say anything that came to mind. No matter if it was an excuse or not.

And then someone steps in before he could.

“Because the knife was clean of blood.”

It was Mikado who spoke up, his voice clear and strong with confidence.

The amnesiac turns his gaze towards the wizard beside him. He had lifted his gaze from the tablet, facing his classmates’ stares head on. Emma blinks her eyes.

“What…?” She said, as it was apparently her turn to be confused now. Mikado goes on.

“If it was the murder weapon, it would’ve had the victim’s blood all over it.” He raises his hand as he shrugs. “Can you explain why that would be, Ms. Ma - I’m sorry, Ms. Emma.”

“That’s, uh…” Emma’s eyes shrink a little as she holds her hand against the collar of her school uniform. “Perhaps the culprit just cleaned it off?”

“Except there was dirt and debris on it. If the culprit cleaned it off, it would’ve been spotless. But it’s not.” Mikado lifts his finger up to his mouth, his mask shifting into one that was both smug and self-assured.

He couldn’t help but admire him for his intelligence.

And yet, he also felt a bit of shame for being unable to reason out his answer on his own. Especially with how obvious it was now that Mikado spelled it out.

“To add to that, if the culprit had the time and energy to clean the knife, why didn’t they just take it with them? They’d have to be a dumbass to leave it at the crime scene.” Nikei buds in with a tsk. Emma cringes but doesn’t refute him.

“I-I see…” Emma closes her eyes, dropping her hand. “When you put it like that, it’d make sense that it wasn’t the knife.”

“...It’s not?” Iroha says, almost a bit dumbly admittedly. But he didn’t have the heart to criticize her for it. He couldn’t even figure out how to explain himself when he tried to oppose Emma’s words.

“No, Iroha. It isn’t.” Kokoro said with a flat stare in her direction. Iroha yelps before hiding behind her sketchbook. The psychologist relaxes her eyebrows and curls her hand over her chest. “Why did you assume it was the knife, Emma?”

“Well, uh…When we found the body and you told me to go find the others, I think I kicked the knife while I was running. But even when I took a glimpse at it, I guess I was in too much of a shock to realize the details on the knife. Or lack thereof.” She laughs a little, albeit awkwardly as she rubs her cheek. “This is a bit embarrassing, not gonna lie.”

“I-It’s okay, Emma!” Yuki starts to speak, his voice almost steady enough to calm the tension in the air. “This is a debate, after all. It’s only natural that some of us would get things wrong as we talk through the trial.”

“But, if the knife wasn’t the murder weapon…Why was it there?” Hajime asked, crossing his arms with a raised eyebrow. “And where’s the actual murder weapon?”

“That…is a good question. I didn’t see the crime scene but the…victim wouldn’t have turned out the way she did without something sharp, um, cutting her, right?” Yuki raised his fist to his chin, looking like he was thinking hard about the case. He seems to be a little calmer now. The amnesiac glances at Mikado and the object on the podium. The wizard notices and nods. He took that permission to speak up.

“Actually, Mikado found something by the cliffside. It might be relevant.” He said, gesturing to the object wrapped in his cape. Everyone turns their gaze towards him and Mikado’s mask grins.

“It’s certainly more than relevant. Let me show you.” He then takes his cape and carefully unwraps it from the object. His jaw drops upon seeing it.

It was a weapon, shaped like a sword and its length gave it a long reach. It was still obviously sharp despite its cracks and would explain why Mikado wrapped it up in his cape to protect himself while handling it. And, more importantly, there was still some blood on it, even though some of it seemed to have been washed away.

“...Is that a sword? Where did you get that?” It was Yuri that spoke up, his voice tinged with annoyance. Mikado only nods his head in confirmation, barely acknowledging the astronaut’s presence.

“I found it by the cliffside near the ocean. It was stuck between some rocks but I managed to get it out with my magic.” Mikado carefully traces his fingers along the blade. “I believe a blade like this could easily cut someone-”

“Wait a fucking minute.” Nikei stops him, tilting his hat down as he stares at the floor. Mikado glares at the journalist but he meets it head on. “How is this blade relevant to this case? If it was by the cliff, that would make it so far away from the crime scene.”

“Maybe it’s because the culprit tried to hide it?” Kanade said, lifting her hands up with confidence.

“There were footprints leading towards the cliff.” Kokoro said, backing it up with her own observations. He tried to keep up but the conversation kept moving along without pause. “As long as these pieces of evidence are accurate to the crime scene in the past-”

“And what if it isn’t?” Nikei spat out. Kokoro blinks but doesn't turn him down, allowing him to keep talking. “What if the evidence is fake? What if the announcer is just leaving this shit around to confuse us? Why should we trust that the scene was accurate down to the smallest pieces of dirt?”

“In any other circumstance, I do think you’d have the right to be suspicious, Nik.” Setsuka said, curling her eyebrows as she crossed her arms. “But with how things are right now, all we can do is have faith that the announcer wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Except we don’t have evidence to back that up!” Nikei scowled. “If we get this wrong, something is going to happen to us and I’d rather not find out!”

“Well, according to this Monocrow File, the wounds seem to be pretty accurate.” Mikado rebutted, calm if a bit wary of the journalist’s temper.

“Keywords seem to be. Anyone can see that the girl died due to being almost cut in half, in Utsuroshima Park. But did anyone even check that she had bruises underneath her clothes? Is there even a way to verify that she died at 11:45PM-”

“Wait, wait, wait!” The moment those words left Nikei’s mouth, he immediately knew he had to speak up. “I-I think I have the answer to that and I, uh, have evidence to prove it!”

“Oh yeah? What is it?” Nikei asked, raising his hand with a flat stare. He clearly didn’t think he’d have anything good to say. He didn’t blame him since he needed Mikado to step in and explain his thoughts for him earlier. But this time, he was certain he could explain himself on his own.

“The victim’s watch. It read 11:45 but-” He starts but Nikei turns his nose up at it.

“Ah, yes. A watch that can keep ticking on and on as long as it has power. Come on, how can a watch prove that the announcer ain’t bullshitting us with that file?” Nikei said, barely even looking his way. The amnesiac flattens his stare.

“Because it’s broken.” He said, flat and straight to the point.

“...What?” Nikei drops his hand with wide eyes, completely taken off guard.

“Once a watch is broken, it won’t be able to move its hand.” He explains pretty matter of factly. He was pretty confident in his words too and it showed with how strong his voice was. “And while it was an old fashioned watch that doesn’t tell you if it’s AM or PM, if we, uh…what’s the word…cross-reference, that’s it. If we cross-reference that with the Monocrow File, I think it’d line up pretty well, don’t you think?”

“That, uh…makes sense. But the wounds-” Nikei tries to fight back, only for someone else to step in.

“Sorry, Nik. But I can at least tell you in this case, the file is telling the truth.” Setsuka said, awkwardly smiling as she shrugs her shoulders. “I saw a pretty deep cut on the girl’s left leg and had our big buddy here verify that with Shin. Right?”

“...Wait, are you talking to me?” He points to himself. Setsuka snorts.

“Who else could I be talking to?” She seems to be winking at him but with her right eye constantly closed, it looks like she’s blinking instead. Yoruko frowns as she leans over the podium with her hands on her hips.

“Wait, wouldn’t your podium have given you your name? The screen had mine typed in it so it must’ve had yours, right?” The hostess asked and he immediately winced at her question. She notices his response and pulls back with her mouth agape. “Unless it didn’t have it?!”

His silence was enough of an answer.

“Are you…saying that the kidnapper doesn’t even know your name??” Hibiki was shocked at the news, raising her hands but unsure of what to do with that. Almost everyone was staring at him with sympathy and he couldn't help but feel like he was being put on the spot.

“That’s…a sad revelation.” Yuki said, gripping his tie. The amnesiac could only hang his head in disappointment, Mikado reaching over to pat his shoulder to comfort him.

“Maybe we should put the topic of our friend’s name to the side for now.” Shinji was the one to speak up, shooting a concerned glance his way. He seems to have noticed his discomfort and he appreciated the change in subject. “Back to what S-Setsuka said, I did find the cut on her leg. In fact, it’s so deep that she might not have been able to walk. And even if she forced herself to by using the trees as support, I…don’t think she was able to escape.” The amnesiac nods his head as he was there to witness his examination. Nikei stares at them, processing their reasoning and probably trying to come up with a comeback.

Evidently, he couldn’t, as he backs down as soon as he lowers his hat over his eyes.

“...Oh.” Nikei’s voice was smaller than usual, like all the yelling he did earlier has become nothing more than an embarrassment for him. He can even see the blush on his cheeks from where he was standing. “I…guess that means the file is reliable then.”

“It’s okay, Nikei. Some of us are bound to get things wrong.” Emma said with a light tease, tossing Yuki’s words back his way. The student gaped at her but it was already too late to stop Nikei’s sputtering.

“Y-You don’t have to rub it in, okay?!” He let’s go of his hat, putting his fists against his chest. “I just…I had to make sure our source was accurate, so cut me some slack.”

“Fufufufu, and yet, for an Ultimate Journalist, you tend to jump the gun, don’t you?” Mikado took the opportunity to take a jab at him. Nikei immediately sends a glare the wizard’s way.

“Don’t make me leave my podium just to hit you.” He warns. Mikado just shrugs but the mask’s expression only gets cheerier.

“Back to the blade, I believe it’s safe to assume that this is the murder weapon. Are we all in agreement on that?” Mikado looked around the trial and he did the same. Most of them looked convinced but some weren’t. Yuki, especially, was tugging on his tie and furrowing his brow.

“...I know it’s probably redundant to ask this since it seems to be the only weapon that makes sense. But, are we sure it’s sharp enough to cut someone like…like how the Monocrow File described?” Yuki asked, swallowing his words.

“Are you asking if it’s possible for the culprit to wield the sword in a way that would cut someone nearly in half?” Mikado clarified the question and Yuki grimaces but nods. The wizard hums. “While the results are clear as day, I don’t think there’s anything wrong in double checking our work. In that case, I believe a demonstration would answer this question best.”

“A demonstration?” The amnesiac raised his eyebrows. Mikado’s mask smiles at him and with a wave of his glowing hand, something flies out of the forest in a bright red light before he catches it with ease. The moment the glow fades, the object reveals itself to be a small log that can be carried with one hand. Albeit awkwardly. “Imagine that this is the victim. It’s not the perfect substitution as it’s not the same size as a human, however it’s thick enough but not by too much like most of the trees that surround us. So it’ll make due for a human’s fragile but sometimes durable body, yes?”

“Make sense to me.” Hajime nods his head. Shinji just shrugs. Yuri frowns alongside Kokoro, but neither of them object. Probably because due to their limited resources, this may as well be the best object to use an example of a human.

“Good. Then, the people beside me, please take a few steps back. This will be a bit dangerous.” The moment Mikado puts the log on top of his podium, he understands what he had meant and immediately starts taking a few steps back. Setsuka and Iroha does the same, although the painter goes much further than she needs to. Syobai barely moves. Mikado picks up the handle with both hands and huffs. “As you can see…I am not well-versed with a sword. In fact, it is quite heavy for me and I am probably not holding it correctly. However…”

Mikado raises the sword, swings as hard as he can in an arc…

…and the log splits nearly in half upon being cut, falling off of the podium.

They all gape at the sight while Mikado puffs his chest with what seems to be pride.

“...it doesn’t take much to do it’s deed.” The smile on his mask turns sharp and pointy.

“Holy shit, that’s one hell of a sword!” Nikei raises his fists and starts backing away from his podium. There was no need as Mikado was already putting the sword back down on his cape but it didn’t convince him to come back to his spot.

“Yeah…yeah, that’s definitely the murder weapon.” Emma looks pale.

“You don’t even need to be an Ultimate Swordsman. Just one good swing and that’s all it’ll take.” Hajime’s sunglasses slid down his nose slightly, making it more obvious that his eyes had gone wide.

“Auuugh…I guess that solidifies our answer then.” Yuki curls his hands over his stomach. He seemed ready to hurl.

“Just in case, does anyone else have any more questions to verify this?” Mikado asked. No one had any more rebuttals and the demonstration alongside the blood on the blade was enough to convince them. Once they all settled back into their podiums, Mikado finished speaking. “Then I believe it’s time to move on.”

“Alright, how about this one: why are there two weapons at the scene? It wouldn’t make sense for the culprit to carry two, right?” Yoruko asked, shifting onto the next topic. Almost immediately, his brain goes blank. Why would there be two weapons? If the culprit already had the blade, that would definitely be the superior weapon compared to the knife thanks to its reach.

“...Oh.” Hajime suddenly speaks up. He seems to be sweating a little bit. “I think I have an idea of why there’s two weapons. But it’s mostly just a shot in the dark.”

“W-Well…speak up. Whether or not it’s a good deduction depends on our debate, after all.” Kanade encouraged, gently smiling Hajime’s way.

“Yeah! Tell us, Hajime!” Iroha jumps in, urging him to continue. He can’t tell if she was excited or desperate. Honestly, it’d make more sense if it was the latter. The boxer sighs.

“Well…I’ll admit, it’ll paint the victim in a bad light.” Hajime said, rubbing his head. “But, uh, maybe the victim had some bad blood with the culprit…and tried to kill them?”

“K-Kill them?” He said it without thinking, gaping at his fellow classmate. “Why would they do that?”

“Don’t ask questions we wouldn’t be able to answer without evidence.” Yuri, who had been mostly quiet, finally started to participate more. Although he clearly wasn’t happy to be responding to him. “We don't know why the victim would bring it and we wouldn’t be able to figure that out with what we have right now. All we know is the facts: the knife was at the crime scene, which means someone had to carry it there. Right now, it makes sense that the victim was the one with the knife, not the culprit.”

“...I’m surprised you actually agreed with me.” Hajime said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t misunderstand, you despicable male! I agree with your reasoning but not the motive, for it paints the poor lady in a horrid light!” Yuri scowls at him with a dark glare. “For all we know, Lady Kasumi was fighting in self-defense!”

“With a kitchen knife that she couldn’t hide on her person?” Yoruko questioned with a frown, playing with her scarf. “It’d be one thing if it was a pocket knife, but a knife that big would be difficult to hide. If anything, I think the girl made it pretty clear of her ill intentions.”

“And you’d be right, Lady Yoruko!” At the drop of a dime, Yuri changed his tune once a girl started speaking to him. The hostess narrowed her eyes at him while Hajime looked like he was going to pop a vein.

“Oh, you little-”

“Enough.”

Kokoro, for as soft as her voice was, was still strong in her tone. With just one word, the class goes quiet. Yuri was pleased to have Kokoro’s attention while Hajime stepped down with a huff and crossed his arms. Once everyone’s attention was on her, she continued.

“Let’s not get distracted by arguing. We must focus on the trial and if everything calms down, we can sort out our issues afterwards.” Kokoro said, managing to put the trial back on track with just a few words. Already he can feel himself admiring her for her calmness and ability to unite the group with just a few words. “Besides, we do have evidence that a fight broke out. A tree has two cuts from a sharp object, there are footprints that made skid marks all over each other, and there were threads in a bush. If we put this all together, we get this: someone was already crouching down in the bushes, preparing for an attack. While we don’t know the details of how the fight went down, we can assume that they tried to ambush their target but it didn’t go well, which resulted in two cuts in the tree. Most likely from both the knife and the blade. The footprints represent them trying to get the upper hand on each other. But eventually, the victim, Kasumi Hayashi, decides that she wouldn’t be able to win and must have tried to run away.”

“And, um, that was probably when she got cut on her leg.” Shinji speaks up, almost nervous in the way he tried to take part without rudely interrupting Kokoro. The psychologist nods her head at him and he continues. “S-Since the cut was probably deep enough to damage her ability to walk, she wouldn’t have been able to escape the culprit.”

“And that’s when she got killed.” Nikei finished, holding onto his hat again. They all grow quiet, processing the information that’s been laid out for them. He looks around the trial, taking in everyone’s despondent expressions…

Only to stop and do a double take.

“Is he…?” He couldn’t help but point. Yuri furrows his brows and actually turns his head to see where he was pointing at.

And from what he can tell, the astronaut proceeded to swear in Russian.

“ARE YOU ASLEEP?!” Yuri yelled out, raising his hands as a dark expression fell over his face. The guy, Syobai, was taking a goddamn nap in the middle of the trial. His head was heavily leaning downward with drool dripping down to his chin and even has a snot bubble forming from his nose. The astronaut slams his fists on his podium but the noise didn’t wake him. It wasn’t until he tried to hit Syobai that he reacted and fast, his eyes opening in a flash as the bubble pops and he dodges the attack.

“Don’t hit me.” He said, glaring down at Yuri. Syobai then yawns and wipes the drool from his mouth. “It’s not like I’m interrupting anything special.”

“Excuse me, but this is a trial to find out how this poor maiden died!” Yuri scoffs, crossing his arms. “But who am I kidding, it’s not like a despicable male like you would try and solve this case. I bet you don’t even have any clues, do you?”

“...Clues like the broken lamp that caused a fire?” Syobai deadpanned.

The amnesiac does a double take. And so does Yuri, who stares at him with shock.

Shock that quickly morphs into anger.

“Did you just steal my thunder?! How dare you!” Yuri hisses but the guy merely cleans out his ear with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh please. If you were waiting to reveal those clues just to impress the women here, you’re only going to be met with disappointment.” Syobai said, pulling his finger out and flicking off any earwax he had picked from his ear. Naturally, all the girls were displeased by this news. And the guys, but he doubts Yuri would care about their opinions at all. Syobai then shrugs. “Back to the lamp, if the victim and the culprit were fighting each other, then it’s likely that the lamp broke during the struggle. Even if it didn’t, the culprit might’ve thought that a fire would get rid of any evidence left behind and chose to break it on purpose.”

“Wow, you put that together pretty fast.” Iroha said, impressed by Syobai’s intelligence. A sentiment he shared pretty well. The guy, however, merely scoffed at the praise.

“Please. As if a case like this can be considered complex at all. In fact, it’s child’s play.” He snorts and the amnesiac feels himself bristle at his words. But he couldn’t think of a rebuttal to say as he pressed his finger against his head, almost like it was a gun. “Now, are we done here? There’s nothing else to discuss and everything should be explained now.”

“Wait, really?” Iroha blinks her wide eyes. She scrunches up her eyebrows like she was in deep thought before her eyes start to swirl. “Uhhhhh, I mean, it all makes sense but I, um, don't know.” Syobai groans, facepalming the minute those words left the painter’s mouth.

“Hey, don’t act like that!” He instinctively called out on him, even as Syobai’s eyes glazed over in disinterest. He feels himself falter a little but he still stands his ground to defend Iroha. “She’s just confused! And besides, we should all make sure we’re in agreement on how the events played out before finishing the trial.”

“I agree.” It was Yuki who spoke, still holding onto his tie. He seemed to have recovered from his distress. Syobai simply shrugs in response before stepping back, like he was physically saying that he won’t be taking part in the trial any more. Despite everyone’s annoyed glares his way, no one bothers to call him out on this. Yuki continues. “There’s still some unanswered questions but…if we put everything in order when it all happened, I think we can answer them as we go along.” He pauses before lifting his fist up to his mouth. “I think it’d make sense to start at the beginning, before the fight broke out. The victim, Kasumi Hayashi, the Ultimate Personal Trainer, was in the forest, probably searching for the culprit…with a knife. We don’t know which one of them was holding the lantern…but I don’t think it was whoever was setting up the ambush. They wouldn’t risk having a light source with them in case they were spotted by their target.”

“I agree.” Kanade jumps in before he could process the information. “Whoever was planning for the ambush would want to minimize any chance of getting seen. They even crouched low in the bushes to hide. H-However, it seems their ambush didn’t go well, since their target still saw them and attacked first. Probably because the glow of their lantern revealed where they were hiding.”

“As a result, a fight broke out. The cuts on the trees and the footprints skidding across each other all points to a struggle.” Kokoro pulls her gaze away from her tablet. “Until, eventually, Kasumi Hayashi decided it was best to run away.”

“And if she were the one to bring the knife, it would make sense why she would.” Hajime crossed his arms. He was catching on to how things had played out, much sooner than he could keep up. “The blade has a far longer reach than the knife, putting her at a disadvantage. So she turned to run.”

“But unfortunately, Lady Kasumi’s luck didn’t pan out so well.” Yuri interjected with a sigh. Hajime just lets him speak. “Due to the length of the blade, the despicable culprit managed to make a cut on her leg, forcing her to fall over, or at least stumble into a tree, as it was so deep that it affected her ability to even walk.”

“Can confirm. It’s-” Shinji starts, only for Yuri to glare at him.

“Did I ask you to interrupt me, you putrid scum?” He said with a harsh tone. Shinji, who was usually friendly if a bit loud, started narrowing his eyes like he was losing his patience with him. But thankfully, someone stepped in before it could escalate.

“Don’t fight. We’re nearly to the end here.” Setsuka called out, and the both of them backed off instantly. Shinji blushing in embarrassment while Yuri…just smiles her way. “Back on topic, while she did get cut, she still tried to keep running. However, that was when the killer delivered the final blow.”

“Cutting her almost in half and then breaking the lamp to start a fire. All to get rid of the evidence.” Emma closes her eyes and hunches over. “At least, that’s what we’re assuming here.”

“Don’t forget the watch. It broke during her fall, which is what allowed us to verify the Monocrow file’s information.” Nikei said, beating him to the punch even though he was the one that brought it up in the first place. Against the journalist himself, no less. “She died at 11:45PM, which is why one of them brought the lantern with them in the first place. It would be way too dark to see without it.”

“And yet, they chose to destroy it instead of taking it with them. Just for a fire that didn’t even do its job, apparently.” Hibiki points out, crossing her arms with a huff.

“I suppose they decided that the potential of a fire getting rid of all the evidence in one go was more appealing than simply escaping the crime scene. And that’s not all.” Mikado picks up from where the vocalist left off. “The fire would’ve created a decent amount of light, so the culprit would’ve at least had something to go back to. Especially with the final thing they must do.”

“Final thing…?” Iroha spoke up, paying close attention to everyone’s explanation. He was similarly confused as he stared at Mikado. But it wasn’t him that clarified.

“Was it…to get rid of it? It is the murder weapon…” Yoruko asked, her eyebrows scrunching together. Mikado snaps his fingers in the hostess’s direction.

“Correct!” He cheerfully says. Yoruko grimaces at the inappropriate glee. His mask quickly goes back to normal. “There would be no other reason why the blade can be found so close to the ocean, after all.”

“So the culprit tried to get rid of the murder weapon. Makes sense, since even a blade wouldn’t have been destroyed in a fire. Damaged, definitely, but otherwise intact.” Kokoro said, and everyone went quiet. There was nothing else to add, after all. “...Currently, we aren't given information on who the past culprit was or the motives for why the culprit and the victim went out of their ways to attack each other. But I believe this is as close to the truth as we can get.”

“...Unless anyone else has any last minute evidence to add?” Yuki asked, which caused the shy and sweet Kanade to actually scoff.

“If they did, then we’d have to start this all over again.” She then sniffles, wiping a tear away from her eye. “Please don’t make us go through all that again.”

“Yeah!! As much as I hate agreeing with my sister, it’d be downright stupid if anyone was hiding anything at this point!” Hibiki jumps in with a hiss, leaning forward with tightly grasped fists. Frankly, he would be more willing to agree with her if she hadn’t tack on the bit about her sister.

“Yes…It seems we’re all in agreement with the explanation then.” Mikado carefully takes the blade off of his cape and sets it aside so he can clasp it back around his shoulders. No one denies his statement.

“Great! Now can we leave these damn podiums?! The trial is over, announcer!” Nikei yelled out, pointing to the sky. There wasn’t even a second to spare when the speakers came on.

“So I see! And your explanation is quite sound, with a few unknowns. But I suppose it’s only natural with the lack of equipment you can use…Not that any of you would know how to use it anyways. But nevermind that. You’re allowed to leave your podiums now. You won’t be using this trial set anymore now that it’s over.”

And just like that, the trial was over.

They don’t have to do this anymore. They’re still in this scary situation, but it is over. They can put this exhausting day behind them.

So why?

Why was he still anxious?

Why was he holding his breath?

Why did he…feel so damn useless?

“Ah, but before you go…There is another announcement I must make.”

The announcer’s voice pulls him from his despair and he absently stares up into the sky. Nikei swore under breath but he went completely ignored.

“This entire time, I’ve been talking to you all through these speakers hidden throughout the island. And such, I’ve hidden my face from you all…Please forgive me for that, my comrades. But I can assure you, I’ve been here this whole time. Watching you become acquainted with everyone, frolicking about on the beach, investigating the crime…Everything. And I think it’s about time…that we properly meet.”

Meet…?

They were going to meet the announcer?

Right now?

Dread seeped into his bones and it was heavy like lead. He barely recognized the podiums shaking and going down if it weren’t for Mikado and Kokoro grabbing him. Shaken out of his daze, he steps away as the podiums sink underground again, being sealed up but the fountain doesn’t come back up. Instead, he hears something flap in the wind.

“Wh-What was that?” Yoruko said, sticking close to Kanade. The guitarist frowns as her sister clings to her tightly.

“I don’t see anything – huh?!” Nikei starts but quickly gets interrupted by something passing by.

No, not passing by. Flying by.

Just the sight alone made everything and anything in his heart and brain grind to a halt. He processes the black and white feathers falling from the sky, that person – no, that thing circling around the group once before disappearing behind the clock tower. And then, it flies above the top and curls its wings as it lands on the roof.

It…was a bird.

A weird, black and white bird with a strange red symbol for an eye on its darker half was standing on top of the tower.

In any other circumstances, the sight could’ve been funny.

It could’ve destroyed the tension that has risen in the group.

It could’ve made him laugh, whether it’s out of disbelief or because it was hysterical.

And yet, seeing that bird, that design, made every alarm in his brain go off and his body freezing.

All he knew was that if there were any doubts left of a normal scenario, they were completely crushed with this thing’s appearance.

[toxinwing]

Alrighty, took a bit to do my post-race summary as I got very distracted, but I do try to eventually get to it. :P So then, that race wasn’t too bad I’d say. Pretty samey as far as winner and those on the podium goes, but some interesting bits in there.

So, congrats to the podium finishers of Max, Nando, and Lewis. As is typical of me and my biases, I’m pleased to so Nando and Lewis up there, and they had a couple good tussles in the race. And Lewis had a great start off the line as well.

Well done to the rest of the top ten! In order we had Charles, Carlos, Checo, Alex, Esteban, Lance, and Val. Charles and Checo made their ways up through the pack after rough qualis for them both. And kudos to Alex for a good quali and a good finish. And Lance not only had a nice push to the top ten from the back of the pack but also got points in his home race, which is always a nice finishing touch to a weekend.

Good job to the rest of the race finishers, too! In order we had Oscar, Pierre, Lando, Yuki, Hulk, Zhou, K-Mag, and Nyck. Tough break for McLaren as Lando’s penalty kept them from scoring points this weekend, but Lando was up in the points scoring positions for a good bit and Oscar was fairly close himself. Hulk had that great quali, but...well, he’s in a Haas so sometimes you gotta keep the expectations measured. K-Mag and Nyck had that unfortunately contact that sent them both down a runoff road, so that explains their finishing positions. Rough day for both.

And finally we have the two drivers who didn’t see the checkered flag. First out was Logan who was told to stop on track after some kind of mechanical issue, bringing out the VSC. Then was George, who had contact with a barrier, puncturing a tyre and breaking his front wing, as well as bringing out the safety car. He was able to keep going after a lengthy pitstop, but eventually had to retire the car after the wear on his brakes started to worry the team. Here’s hoping they both have better races in the future.

Speaking of, the next race will be in Austria in two week’s time. Red Bull’s home turf, so they’ll want a good weekend, for sure.

So then, that’s my liveblogging done for today. Took me much to long to write as I kept getting distracted. But, hey, eventually got it done. Well, with that, I’m off to relax and maybe give my distracted brain something to do. Until next time, have a lovely rest of your day. Later!

[f1]

Sainz penalty harsh after F1 changed rules twice in 10 minutes for Alonso Vasseur | RaceFans Round-up

In the round-up: Ferrari team principal Frederic Vasseur is frustrated his driver Carlos Sainz Jnr wasn’t allowed to speak to the stewards before his Australian Grand Prix penalty was issued. Join RaceFans on Facebook Don't miss anything from RaceFans - join us on Facebook here to see whenever a new article has been added: In brief Stewards should have listened to Sainz – Vasseur Ferrari team principal Frederic Vasseur said the Australian Grand Prix stewards should have heard from Sainz before penalising his driver for his collision with Fernando Alonso on Sunday. Vasseur pointed out the stewards had reversed a decision which went against Alonso at the previous round. “Carlos had a very good recovery after the unlucky pit stop, just before the red flag, and to get penalised like this at the end it’s very harsh,” Vasseur told Channel 4 on Sunday. “For sure you are emotional in this kind of situation because you are not far away of the podium, you are P4 coming from nowhere when we all the others get the pit stop for free. He did a mega good job. “Now, I think that you can discuss hours about the penalty, if it’s harsh or not. For sure that depending of your position, your team and so on the analysis will be different. “But I think what is a shame for me is that considering that it was not impacting the podium, at least the stewards, they could have listened to them and to have a look on the data. And I think this is a is a bit of a shame. Last week we changed the regulation two times in 10 minutes about the pit stop for Alonso and we could do the same today, at least to discuss.” Vasseur confirmed Ferrari would not appeal against the decision, but questioned why it had been taken so quickly. “They took 30 laps before to decide if Alonso was into the box or not and today took five seconds.” Magnussen didn’t realised he’d hit wall Kevin Magnussen didn’t realise he’d hit the wall at turn two when he suffered the damage which ended his race and triggered the controversial final standing restart in Melbourne. “I brushed the wall at the exit of turn two and the rim broke, the tyre came off and I had to stop,” he said. “I didn’t even feel it so it definitely wasn’t something that felt big in the car, but it was enough to crack the rim and take the tyre off.” Broadcaster “apologises” to Kirkwood IndyCar driver Kyle Kirkwood says he received an apology from the series broadcaster NBC after its commentary team blamed him for a collision in the pit lane with Alexander Rossi. The stewards penalised the McLaren driver rather than Kirdwood for the contact. “Pretty disappointing how much hate mail I’ve received for the pit lane incident yesterday,” he said in a post on social media. “I’d like to clarify that I was fully 100% within pit lane protocol and the NBC IndyCar broadcast team has kindly apologised for making me out to be the bad guy.” Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free Happy birthday! Happy birthday to D_Omin! On this day in motorsport 30 years ago today Mario Andretti scored his final IndyCar win in the Phoenix 200 via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

[kumeko]

A/N: For the cancelled She-ra Sports Zine! I’ve always been a swimmer and so I couldn’t resist doing a swimming piece.

…

…

…

…

She should be smiling. Standing on a podium, the bright lights shining down on her, the center of everyone’s attention, Mermista knew innately that she should be smiling. After all, second place wasn’t anything to sneeze at. In a swim meet with over a hundred competitors, all of them winning qualifying races to make it here, second place was in fact an envious position.

Yet, as far as Mermista was concerned, second place was as good as losing. She bowed her head, allowing the judge to set the medal around her neck. As she raised her head, the crowd clapped politely. In the stands, she heard Bow and Glimmer shout her name, excited.

The medal felt heavy around her neck. She resisted the urge to tear it off.

-x-

“Oh man, second place!” Bow held the silver medal to the light, his eyes wide as he took in every detail. Luckily, the lights around the school pool were ridiculously bright in the predawn morning. In the winter, the time felt earlier than it was. “I can’t believe you did it!”

“I did nothing,” Mermista grumbled, stretching her arms. She’d been swimming since she was a baby, the warmup drills were as natural as breathing to her.

“It’s not nothing,” Glimmer argued, adjusting the strap of her swimsuit. “It’s second place! Do you know who I’d kill to get second place?”

“No one, because we’re not killers,” Adora replied awkwardly, a nervous smile on her face. Mermista wasn’t sure if the transfer student had been bullied her whole life or just didn’t know what a sense of humour was, but she had to be the most awkward person she’d ever met. “But it’s really amazing, Mermista! You made it to the finals, the rest of us couldn’t manage that.”

“It’s just second place,” Mermista repeated, her brow furrowing in annoyance.

“Just my butt. Adora’s right,” Glimmer groaned, covering her face. “At least she made it to the semi-finals. I barely even qualified for the first round.”

“And I didn’t even qualify,” Bow added, handing the medal back to Mermista. Despite his words, his smile was bright and she couldn’t detect a hint of regret or jealousy in his tone. “So don’t be too hard on yourself. This is amazing.”

“You were amazing too.” Glimmer slung an arm around Bow, hugging him lightly. “I could hear your cheers through the water, you were so loud!”

Bow flushed lightly, looking a little embarrassed. It was ridiculous. Mermista bit her cheek, irritated. At this rate, they were going to have a regular pity party. “You know this is why you all suck, right?”

Glimmer blinked, slowly turning to Mermista, her jaw slack. Unintelligibly, she muttered, “Huh?”

“Cheerleading is not amazing. Getting second place is not amazing.” She could hear the words before she even said them, regretting them before she even uttered a single syllable. And yet they spewed out of her like a torrent. “Maybe if you practiced a little more, you’d see why.”

“What?” Adora opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to articulate her feelings.

Unlike her, though, Glimmer didn’t have any such issues. Ever a scrapper, she immediately growled, “Are you kidding me?”

A moderator, Bow grabbed her arm, halting her angry march forward. “Don’t,” he warned, trying to maintain peace. “And Mermista, I know it’s hard to lose, but that was uncalled for. We—”

“You heard me,” Mermista interrupted, raring for a fight. She wanted, no, needed to punch someone. Anyone. And if it happened to be one of her best friends, well, that was just how it was. “If you just practiced more, you’d actually have placed, instead of crying about it here.”

Glimmer yanked her arm free, her skin a stubborn, angry red. She looked like a volcano eruption. “We’re not crying about anything.” Coming to a stop right in front of Mermista, she glared up at her. It was strange how someone so short could be so intimidating, but what she lacked in height, Glimmer more than made up for in presence. “You’re the one whining about second place.”

Through gritted teeth, Mermista replied, ‘You don’t have motivation.”

“And you don’t know how to have fun,” Glimmer snarled before headbutting her chin.

-x-

There was something soothing about swimming at night. Mermista cut through the clear water, the liquid cool on her burning skin as she swam lap after lap. The school had closed hours ago, the sun setting just a short while ago, and Mermista didn’t want to go home.  She didn’t want to look in the mirror at the bandage on her neck or think about what she’d said earlier.

All she wanted to do was stay in the water until her skin wrinkled beyond recognition. The only good thing about swimming this late was that it was just her in the pool. There wasn’t Bow, clumsily practicing his turns, or Glimmer furiously trying to catch up to Adora’s easy strokes.

“Mermista, you’re going to get in trouble again.”

A sing-song voice cut through the air, and she groaned as she stopped swimming.  A correction, it was just her, the pool, and Perfuma of all people. Treading water, she looked around until she spotted a familiar blonde waving by the diving boards. As usual, she was dressed like a hippie from the seventies, a flower in her hair and her clothes the brightest, loudest combination possible. Mermista never knew how to deal with her and she scrunched her nose as she slowly glided over.

Hanging off the edge of the pool, she grumpily asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Same to you.” Perfuma smiled brightly. “Didn’t Glimmer’s mom tell you to leave before the sun set?”

“And didn’t she tell you to call her Mrs. Angella when we’re in school?” Mermista snapped back, still a little prickly from her earlier fight.

Perfuma frowned. Crouching, she rested her head on her hands and asked, “Why are you like this?”

“I’m like nothing,” Mermista grunted, getting ready to push off again. She’d had enough of the conversation. “I’m me.”

“And you got into a fight with everyone for nothing.” Perfuma shook her head pityingly. This was exactly why Mermista hated talking to the space case—there was nothing worse than having Perfuma look down at her. “Why? They were congratulating you.”

“I didn’t win,” Mermista muttered.

“You got second place! That’s a huge celebration!” Perfuma’s frown grew deeper. “We were going to have a party.”

Mermista clicked her teeth. “And that’s exactly why no one on this team wins anything.”

“But we have fun,” Perfuma argued back, pursing her lips in annoyance. Good. Mermista hoped that she was getting under her skin in the same way Perfuma was getting under hers. “We did our best.”

She snorted derisively. “That’s not how you win competitions.”

“Is that the only reason you swim?” Perfuma snapped, unable to keep her cool any longer. “Nothing else?”

Mermista resisted the urge to recoil. She’d never known how to handle Perfuma’s on switch. “What about you? Why do you swim?”

“Because it’s fun! Because my friends are here and I like doing this!” Perfuma stood up now, fury in her eyes. “Not everything’s about winning and losing.”

Before Mermista could reply, Perfuma turned around and stomped away.

-x-

Mermista loved hot baths. Relaxing in the tub, listening to music, inhaling a scented bathbomb—there was nothing better. Yet today she felt cramped in her tub, unable to fold her body just right for a comfortable seat. The water felt too hot, the scent made her sneeze, and there wasn’t a decent song on her playlist.

Everything felt like shit. After a string of bad decisions, she logically made the next bad one: calling Seahawk.

“Mermista! Darling! How are you today? For me, it was a glorious day, I think I have all but conquered the—”

“Oh, shut up already,” Mermista groaned. She could barely tolerate his endless flowery speech on a good day. On a day like this, it was self-punishment. “You didn’t burn the school down, did you?”

Unfazed, Seahawk laughed. “Not at all, my dear! I rarely burn things down, if you don’t count the gym and the chemistry lab and—”

“You’re lucky no one thinks you’re an arsonist.” She had no idea how they were childhood friends, but that was probably the only reason she had his number. Well, that and he made a good listener. And some of the best brownies—

Nope, nope, nope, she didn’t call him to think about their friendship, she called to complain about her day. Sinking into the water slightly as she shifted her legs, she grumbled, “You won’t believe the day I had.”

Unfortunately, she’d forgotten her friend was as dense of a brick. Not picking up on her tone, Seahawk shouted, “It has to be a great one, right? Congrats on the swim meet!”

“Ugh, not you too,” she groaned, glaring at the phone as though it could transmit it along with her frustration. “Quit it.”

“Huh?” She could almost see Seahawk’s surprised face, his slack-jawed gape.

“Can you just stop? It’s not first place, it’s second. It might as well be last.” Mermista ran a soapy hand through her wet hair. Now that the words were coming out, they wouldn’t stop, like a burst dam. “I don’t understand why you all keep going on and on about it—and god, Perfuma got on my case for no reason. This is a swim team!  The whole point is competing—why even bother if they’re not going to try.”

There was silence on the other end. Seahawk remained quiet for the longest time, and Mermista wondered if the call disconnected or if he’d fallen asleep again.

“Seahawk?”

“Why do you swim?” he asked finally, his voice cutting through the silence.

She raised a brow. “What do you mean, why? To win of course. If I just wanted to swim, I’d just go to any old pool and not compete.”

“Okay, but…” Seahawk paused. “You also like it, right?”

“…well…yeah,” she replied, almost hesitantly. Did she? Maybe? Her teammates faces’ flashed across her mind and she stubbornly shoved them away. They certainly weren’t the reason she liked swimming.

“Well, they like it too, but that isn’t why they’re swimming. There are many boats out on the sea—yachts, rafts, sailboats. They all have different purposes.” It figured Seahawk would use boats in his explanation, but for once she didn’t roll her eyes. “That doesn’t make them any less a boat.”

“That sounds so stupid,” she mumbled, begrudgingly seeing his point. There was something wrong with the world when Seahawk of all people made sense.

“And second place does mean something,” he continued, his voice rising in pitch in his excitement. “You were second out of all those people! You beat almost everyone there! That is amazing!”

Well, when he put it like that, it did sound amazing. Mermista recalled Bow’s proud expression, Adora’s eager praise, Glimmer’s—“Damnit,” she moaned, her skin flushing as she sank deeper into her tub. “It’s really cool, huh?”

‘Yep!”

God, she’d been wrong. “Glimmer’s never going to let it go.”

“Forever’s a long time,” Seahawk laughed, deep and hearty. “But yes.”

-x-

Mermista could cut the tension with a knife when she stepped onto the pool deck the next day. Bow hung off the edge of the pool, his eyes wide and lips in an o-shape as he looked between her and Glimmer. His friend stood at the other end of the pool, her arms crossed, shoulders square, and utterly ready to fight a war. Next to her, Adora rubbed her arm as she glanced at Perfuma, who looked just as uncertain as her.

She swallowed, feeling the weight of it all. It’d be so easy to run away. But she was made of sterner stuff than that and if she was going to apologize, she might as well get it over with. Quietly, she walked over to Bow, more than aware of all the eyes on her. Clasping her hands behind her back, she awkwardly asked, “Need help with your turns?”

Well, it wasn’t exactly an apology, but she could tell by the way Bow smiled he completely understood her. And had, miraculously, forgiven her. “Sure.”

“Don’t you dare do that again,” Glimmer growled before tackling her into the pool.

Mermista groaned internally. She’d been right, Glimmer was going to milk this for all its worth.

-x-

She should smile. Standing on a podium, she tired not to look to her left as the judge approached her. It was a bronze medal this time and she bit her cheek. Third place was even worse than second. Mermista curled her hand into a fist as the medal was placed around her neck.

“WOOOO!! MERMISTA!!!” Bow cheered. Adora and Glimmer shouted seconds later in support.

Mermista lifted her head, smiling at the sound of his voice. It was impossible not to. Pushing aside her crippling disappointment, Mermista took a deep breath and smiled for the camera. She was on the podium. That was something to be proud of, even if it wasn’t what she wanted.

And besides, she could always take first place next time.

[racingliners]

F1 Re-Watch 2013: Round 5 - Spain

Okay slightly longer than usual opening ramble bc this is a really sentimental race for me. As mentioned in previous posts, I grew up watching F1 with my Dad but stopped when he passed away in 2007, then at some point in early 2013 I heard one of my friends in High School talking about F1, and I mentioned that I used to watch it, and she insisted on dragging me back in (10 years later, I am indeed still here).

Because of the TV rights deals in the UK at the time, the BBC only had rights to show half the races live, with the rest being extended highlights programmes. So when I invited my friends up for a sleepover, we planned it for a weekend that the BBC had a live race, which just so happened to be Spain, and that ended up being the first F1 race I’d seen since 2007 with my Dad.

I remember almost nothing from it, apart from Alonso winning, because my friend spent almost the entire race telling me who everyone was since there had been a lot of team and driver changes for me to get my head around. So I’m looking forward to actually paying attention to all the on-track action! 😅

not gonna lie, for the above reasons this is one of the races I was most looking forward to, so I really hope this race wasn’t a flop dvdhfvuhdf

Starting grid time!

or more appropriately starting grid whiplash bc MERC FRONT ROW?! With a Rosberg pole?! My dudes how did you bottle that

Seb P3 (🥳), Alonso P5, Dan and Jev 11th and 12th and Jenson 14th (😭)

tag yourself I’m Seb pulling his helmet visor down when he realised the cameras were on him divhdfsu

[Formation Lap]: lol that shot of the Mercs with their yellow helmets, it really was a challenge every Merc onboard to figure out which driver was which 

Tyres: Mediums and Hards were the compounds for this race.

“They’re [Mercs] going ridiculously slow again, tell them to hurry up” asuvhsduvah I really do miss bratty team radio Seb

and after all that the rest of the grid are taking their sweet time to line up on the grid

F1 is a Serious Sport™️

[Start/Lap 1]: Lights out and away we finally go

ohhhh Seb takes Lewis into turn 1!

...ouch and then Lewis loses P3 to Alonso in the next corner

and Jenson dropped from 14th to 17th 😭

F1 giveth and F1 taketh away

[Lap 3]: Okay we had a spicy first 4 corners and then nothing

DRS please save us

sjdvjvahvh not the camera shot of the massive queue behind Rosberg encompassing 1st to 6th 😭

[Lap 4]: Seb’s gaining but not by that much

[Lap 5]: gap now 8 tenths of a second

I know I’m only a tenth in but I fear this will be my shortest liveblog post ever

[Lap 6]: ...anyone care to do anything???

ah so Lewis has some kind of brake issues due to the double lock up at the start, great

there go my hopes of a Lewis podium :(

[Lap 7]: DRS trains be DRS training... no overtakes

I love how I hyped this up for sentimental value and I have this

2013 me was clearly won over by the sight of F1 cars and F1 cars alone sdjkvdfjvds

ugh Raikkonen passes Lewis.

[Lap 8]: oof Webber makes his first stop. Comms are talking about a potential 4 stop race.

Four pit stops

That is highkey insane ngl

Anyway, the gap between Seb and Rosberg is still around 7 to 8 tenths

And Lewis drops down to 6th 😭

[Lap 9]: oh now the gap between Seb and Rosberg just over a second. great.

aw no Grosjean’s car’s broke :(

“I can see a car that’s not going back out again” Ted please know that I adore you

[Lap 10]: Anyway, Alonso and Lewis make their first stops

[Lap 11]: as do Rosberg and Seb

rats, no position change at the stops

argh and Alonso jumped Seb bc of the undercut

[Lap 12]: vsdvhadvh Gutierrez leading the race bc he hasn’t stopped yet

Sauber literally stay winning, good for them

and we’re once again back on the Rosberg DRS train, there’s about a second and a bit between 2nd and 5th

[Lap 13]: And Alonso takes P2 going into turn 1 and takes the effective race lead

Seb tries it around the outside at turn 5, no dice

...but he takes P3 at the next corner 🥳🥳🥳

[Lap 14]: Gutierrez pits from the lead (a sentence I did not think I would be typing today)

lol I wasn’t even paying attention to tyre compounds. Rosberg is on the hards while the cars around him are on the mediums, which explains a part of the pace difference.

[Lap 15]: Massa is somehow in P3, I’m pretty sure he already stopped so it must have been early

[Lap 16]: Man it feels so wild to hear comms and Ted talking about a 3 stop race vs a 4 stop race bc even in 2014 that didn’t happen. Like if a driver had done a 4 stop race in the 2014 regs you knew they’d had a very shit time 

Anyway, long story short Pirelli make better tyres challenge

[Lap 17]: Anyway, Checo is chasing Webber down, he’s on fresher tyres and seemingly having a much better time of it judging by his race engineer.

[Lap 18]: Dan up to 9th from starting in 12th, noice

meanwhile Mercedes have gone from having 1-2 on the grid to running 5th and 10th... ouch

the regs change glow up they had really was something else

[Lap 20]: Oh the duality of Dan in the Toro Rosso chasing Perez in the McLaren for 7th place. Great for Dan, not great for Perez

[Lap 21]: I did not even notice that Alonso’s gap was up to 4 seconds. oof.

ah, and he makes his second stop and comes out in 4th

“Alonso committing to a four stop, could be five but I doubt it” That’s a totally normal sentence to say Ted

as interesting as it is not quite knowing how things will play out, it’s frustrating for it to be down to tyre life as opposed to the actual pace of the cars

[Lap 23]: And van der Garde brings his Caterham into the pits on 3 wheels 😳

this is a totally normal race

[Lap 24]: and Seb makes his second stop, onto another set of hards

[Lap 26]: Lewis just dropping down the field like a stone this does not spark joy

and he finally pits again, though he comes out in 14th

*sigh* at least Seb’s up to 4th

[Lap 27]: Make that third now that Raikkonen’s stopped

[Lap 28]: Starting to wonder what kind of hex Fernando put on the rest of the field bc he’s driving off mostly unbothered while hardly anyone else is having a great time with simply trying to manage their tyres

[Lap 29]: Oh it’s a Ferrari 1-2, I swear I keep forgetting that Massa’s there

[Lap 30]: Bono asking Lewis to look after his rear left and Lewis going “I can’t drive any slower” ...and to think they’ve gone on to win 6 titles together

(also wow I just made myself emo about that 🥺😭)

[Lap 32]: oh my god finally a battle!

...it’s Raikkonen trying to get third from Seb though

[Lap 33]: and he gets past coming out of turn 2

meh

In Merc news their simulations are currently saying that Lewis will manage to finish in 5th so... that’s certainly something

(are they delusional? we’ll find out very soon)

[Lap 35]: also we’re FINALLY past half race distance

I’m starting to see why my friend was so happy to explain shit to me at the time bc this race is definitely not it

“This is worse than anyone expected” I know Brundle’s talking about tyre wear but it could also be applied to the race

aaand replay of Hulkenberg and one of the Toro Rosso’s having beef in the pitlane 🤦‍♀️

it was Jev too... is2g

[Lap 37]: Anyway the Ferrari’s have pitted again, there was a big enough gap for them to safely double stack

[Lap 39]: And Alonso retakes the lead

not Jev having a rear tyre delamination 😭 why did F1 hate him so much?!

Pirelli I know it’s been 10 years but you can and will meet my fists

[Lap 40]: Seb pits again, back down to 4th

[Lap 41]: a positive!!! Jenson takes P7 from Gutierrez

oh Jenson’s yet to make his third stop never mind 😭

I’m pretty sure at the time that I was so excited to see that Jenson was still racing that I decided to support him anyway regardless of where he finished, 2013 me was committed to suffering as a sports fan before I knew what that meant

[Lap 44]: Despite the fact I keep forgetting about Massa he’s 8 seconds behind Raikkonen and lapping about a second and a bit per lap quicker

[Lap 49]: welp I zoned out but the only meaningful update was Raikkonen’s third and final stop, and he’s catching both Ferrari’s who sound like they’re going to stop again

[Lap 50]: and right on cue in comes Alonso, he comes out in the lead, so the win is his

and Lewis is still in P11 😭

[Lap 52]: Seb makes his final stop and he’s in 4th so likely no podium

[Lap 54]: Jev being called in to retire the car, this race has not aged well for me 😭

[Lap 58]: I hate to say it but... I’m bored 😭

there’s no racing no battles it’s just a procession I cannot remember much past the first lap

[Lap 61]: The only tangible stuff going on is Massa trying to catch Raikkonen and a potential Button v Perez round 2 electric boogaloo

[Lap 62]: 5 laps remaining, finally

[Lap 63]: dfvbjkdfvbd GP getting a bit shirty with di Resta about using his DRS

oh and the McLaren’s were told to hold positions, so no McLaren on McLaren violence today.

[Lap 65]: Okay the Rosberg v Di Resta battle is actually somewhat interesting viudhvu

both fighting for P6 and for the right to be the first Merc powered car across the finish line

              2013 🤝 2023 Team Silverstone vs Mercedes 

[Lap 66]: Final lap, at last 😭

“It’s not been a great race” Oh you can say that again

[Finish]: And Alonso wins, it’s so wild that this is still his most recent F1 win.

P2 Raikkonen, P3 Massa, P4 Seb, P5 Webber, P6 Rosberg, P7 di Resta, P8 Jenson, P9 Perez, and Dan takes P10

Well, it’s interesting how time and sentimental attachment can change your view on things. When I watched this race at the time I was just so in awe to be watching F1 again and now I’m very, very non-plussed and can’t wait to go to bed jfvbfvhsh

Anyway, it was nice to see it again at least, for the above mentioned sentimental reasons. Next race - Monaco!

[tonydeynupsidedown]

Voxel Underground Portal room

This is my attempt at creating an underground bunker for my portal room. The only reason I created this and didn’t continue from my previous above ground voxel military base is because I somehow lost my original voxel. I have since found it. But at the time I though I’d have to start all over again. With the context out the way let me explain my process.

I started by creating a 256,256,256 cube, from there I chiselled away four rectangular rooms that would make up the different compartment to my bunker. I used the erase tool to do this. Next I started detailing the main portal room, I did this by adding some pipes, pillars and a podium I could then place my portal onto. I actually really enjoyed this process of detailing the room. Next I set out to create the portal itself, this really wasn’t a complicated procedure. All I had to do was create a 2D circular disk, extend it out and then create a hole in the middle. This may sound complicated, however if you’re at all familiar with Voxel you will know it is actually a piece of cake.

For the final part I had to create stairs leading up to each level of the bunker. Now on paper this may sound simple, and it really should have a been. But In actuality it ended up being a huge pain the the bum. I really struggled to get the stairs to look right. There wasn’t any issue with the software or tools, nope. It was just me being stupid not being able to get the stairs to look aesthetically pleasing.

[marionwritesstuff]

Hurting - Max Verstappen x Reader

prompt: Max's dad is sick and he's coming to terms with his childhood trauma while lashing out on you, his girlfriend.

disclaimer: i'm completely making this up, take no reality from it.

"Max, you can't just fucking leave," you pleaded, following your F1 driver boyfriend around your shared flat.

"Yes I can," he hissed. You felt the anger steaming off of him.

It was halfway into the race season and Max finally had a weekend off and he had just gotten home. However, Max got a whopping 8th in Austria - Red Bull's home race. He was immensely disappointed in himself and, while blaming his own shortcomings, he blamed y/n for being a "distraction".

You knew, however, that his anger and his low performance on the track wasn't due to your relationship, but due to his dad's recent health troubles.

Max and his father, Jos, have always had a complicated relationship. Max was the eldest son, the racer bound to take the torch from his old man. Max loved racing, he really did, but sometimes the pressure his father put on him was too great. He was regularly berated if he didn't at least podium, and even then a silver or bronze was never good enough for the head of the Verstappen household. Soon, winning became a necessity to Max. By winning, he'd win his father's approval.

Now, he was one of the best drivers on the grid, on his way to winning his first F1 championship. Although their relationship was rocky Max depended on his father. Besides you, the one person he needed to see after each race was his father. Jos would give him advice, critique his steering and braking, all to help Max become a better driver - to reach feats he never did.

And now, in front of you, you saw the product of a boy, about to lose his father, the one person that loved him and supported him, but also made his childhood hell. Instead of figuring out his own internal issues, he lashed them out onto you. It wasn't the first time, and you knew it wasn't a result of his lack of love for you, but of his pain.

"Max, please," you touched his shoulder, only for him to wince as you quickly pulled it away. "Please, you know I love you, you know I'd never do anything to hurt you, please, just talk to me," you begged.

He stopped in his tracks, his bag full of clothes in hand. "Just... leave me alone." And with that, he walked out the door, leaving you cold and lonely in your once shared space.

-- a few weeks later

Sitting in what used to be yours and Max's flat, you typed away at your computer, finishing up an essay due for your Masters class. But soon, you found yourself thinking of Max; your head nestled against his broad chest, hearing his deep breaths during his naps before races.

You had tried your very best to keep him off your mind for the past few weeks. You sunk yourself into school, even completing essays weeks before they were due, but no matter what you did you couldn't stop thinking about Max freaking Verstappen. You were, and have always been, hooked.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked through the peephole only to see the man himself, Max, waiting anxiously at your door. Taking a few deep breaths, you opened it.

"Hi Max," you said sheepishly, tugging at your hoodie, one that, in that moment, you realized was actually his.

"y/n, can we talk? Please," he asked with desperation. You knew there was no saying "no" to his puppy dog eyes. Stepping aside, you gestured to let him in.

You both sat down on the couch, maintaining your distance from one another.

"y/n, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I should never have let my anger out on you, or blamed me losing on you." He reached for your hands, which you gave, and held them tightly as he stared down, ashamed to meet your eyes. "My dad, you know how he was, well, I guess not all of who he was..." he trailed off.

You knew this was a touchy subject and didn't push him. Even though you and Max had been dating for nearly a year, he barely talked about his father. And when he did, it was clouded in shame and hurt.

He continued, "He always wanted what he thought was best for me, even if it meant going against what I needed when I was a kid." I could hear his voice breaking and I scooted closer, trying to show him my physical support. "When he went into the hospital I just couldn't focus - on anything. Not on you, on racing, nothing. I just... I broke. And I thought blaming it on you would make it easier or make it go away but it didn't. It stayed and it sucked and god every single time anything good or anything bad happened to me I wanted to run to tell you, but you weren't there. And I hated it, I hated it so fucking much."

He looked up, staring deeply into my eyes this time. "I need you, please, please, baby come back to me - let me come back to you." He waited for anything from you, a nod or a word or anything.

Your body couldn't resist comforting his pain, of being there for him and being his person. You closed the distance between you two, enveloping Max in a deep hug. His head rested on your shoulder as you heard him let out a big sigh. "I've missed you so much, god I hated not having you around," you whispered into the crook of his neck.

"I'm so sorry, so so sorry..." Max repeated, drawing circles on my back with his hand.

I moved away just slightly so my face was aligned with his. "Can we just... go back to normal? Just for right now? Can you just... hold me?"

And without hesitation, he embraced me in his warm presence. In that moment, I felt whole.

[edie-baby]

mr & mrs | liam lawson x reader

Summary: You and Liam were teammates at Hitech for 2021. You had the biggest crush on him, but you were sure he didn't see you as anything more than a little sister. But oh, how a few basic questions could uncover the truth between you.

Warnings: swearing, and I think that's it?

When you walked into work in the Hitech Grand Prix building this morning, you didn’t expect to be playing the fucking newlywed game with your crush. And if you’re being honest with yourself, crush is a light way to put it. You were head over heels for your F2 teammate and best friend, Liam Lawson. There was just something about the New Zealander that always had your heart racing, your legs buckling, and your stomach dropping.

So when you were directed into the garage for a ‘different background’ from other videos you had done with Liam, your stomach lurched. Here this gorgeous man was, in all his Kiwi glory, hair waxed back but falling out of place, jeans hugging the toned curves of his legs and ass and giving you a glorious view of his bulge, and the fucking blue sweater. The same blue sweater he had worn the last time the two of you did a video that had reduced you to a stuttering mess when you first saw him.

But now it is worse. So, so much worse. He was standing in a garage. Around cars, and tyres, and grease, and all of the inanimate objects you found so sinfully appealing, and he was just right in the middle of it looking like that. You just about turned around and walked right back out.

“Mighty Mouse! There you are. I was starting to think I’d have to be the brains and beauty of the operation.” Liam called once he spotted you, and suddenly you remembered why you had never tried making a move on him. He treated you like a little sister. Nicknames like ‘kiddo’ and ‘mighty mouse’ were a regular occurrence, and they never failed to make you squirm.

“Well, you struggle to be anything but the brawn, and I think I’m even starting to overtake you there.” You teased, pushing yourself to stay casual, platonic, familial. There was so much opportunity to flirt with him, but the few times you had tried were brushed off, so you had given up many moons ago.

“Ouch Princess, that hurts.” Liam mocked, his hand cradling his chest and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would be to fall asleep against his chest, curled up after a rough night of-

“Who’re you calling princess, princess?” You shot back, cutting your thoughts off before they continued developing and became an issue. Liam laughed, his arm slung around your shoulder while the two of you walked over to the team that were in charge of running your activity for the afternoon.

“Ok, I don’t know if you guys have heard of it, but this game is called Mr and Mrs, one of you will have a whiteboard and wear headphones while the other tries to guess what the answers to the questions you’re writing down are. Make sense? Ok, great, let’s do an intro and go from there.” One of the guys explained quickly, and you began having flashbacks to an awful 80s game show called The Newlywed Game, and blushed profusely. Having you and Liam in a video titled ‘Mr & Mrs’ was sure to get the fans going, and you couldn’t blame Hitech’s PR plan.

You and Liam settled into the wheely chairs from the office next door, Liam positioning himself in frame of the camera and fixing his stupidly perfect hair when you came barreling toward him with your chair, legs tucked up high so you didn’t cop a chair arm to the knee. Liam screeched when you finally hit him, almost toppling off the chair in surprise while you spun slowly, laughing freely as you did so.

Liam looked over at you, your head thrown back in carefree laughter, the yellow sundress that covered your body made you look radiant, and he was sure he had never seen a sight so beautiful before. Your laughter calmed down, and as you looked over at him, he couldn’t help but send you a lovestruck smile, his eyes dopey with admiration. You blushed slightly, laughing as the team asked if you could do the intro again, but actually introduce what you were doing.

Liam slid out of the frame, and you followed his movements as you could tell a fierce battle was about to commence. Kicking off the ground with force, you tucked your legs up onto the chair again, spinning into Liam so fast, you couldn’t actually see his face before you crashed into him. The two of you exploded in laughter again, laughter and smiles were common between you, and Hitech’s Instagram was full of photos and videos of you and Liam smiling at each other, or doubled over in laughter, clutching onto each other.

“Hi, I’m Liam Lawson, and this is Y/N, we drive for Hitech in Formula 2.” Liam began once you had slowed down your laughter. He kept a firm grip on the arm of your chair, holding you close and still, as your chair really liked spinning around.

“And we’re here to play Mr & Mrs, another game in our long series championship to see who the better teammate is.” You finished, gesturing to yourself subtly, but Liam caught it and pushed your chair away jokingly. As much as you loved the man and wished you could be more, you wouldn’t give up this relationship you have with him for something that might work.

MR & MRS | EDIE-BABY

“Liam, what is Y/N’s favourite colour?” The same guy from before asked, one who Liam still didn’t recognise due to the facemask and hat he was wearing. Nevertheless, he held up a whiteboard where the question was scribbled in messy writing, three multiple choice answers written waiting for not only Liam’s, but also your answer. You had airpods in your ears, connected to the blaring music playing from one of the Hitech employees’ laptops, a whiteboard in your hand that you quickly scribbled out an answer to.

Liam looked over at you, holding the whiteboard to your chest protectively so he wouldn’t cheat, but there was really no way that he could.

“It’s not an answer listed here, but her favourite colour is a light brown. She always says it calms her down because it reminds her of a cafe she went to once back home.” Liam spoke, watching you as he answered. You didn’t hear a word he was saying, bopping your head along to the 2000s hits pumping through the earphones. Liam pulled one of them out, his head nodding over to the camera while you proudly turned the board around, thinking you had gotten one over on Liam.

“My favourite colour is light brown, because it reminds me of the Brew Cafe in my hometown, and it brings a really nostalgic and calm feeling.” You stated, watching the faces of the employees morph from business to shock. You looked over at Liam, who had a smug smile on his face while he listened to your answer.

“There’s no way you could have known that!” You protested, glaring accusingly at the dirty blonde. He laughed in response, and you couldn’t have felt happier in any given moment. Not even the top step of the podium could compare to the warmth spreading in your chest. Little did you know, Liam was feeling the exact same way.

“Y/N earphones back in, Liam your next question. What is Y/N’s favourite song at the moment?” The same guy asked, yet this time there were no multiple choice answers. Liam’s eyes widened, turning to look at you to think of any songs he had heard blasting from your speakers or earphones recently, or something that you had ranted excitedly to him about. He spoke to himself, mumbling about artists and songs he could remember falling from your lips. You twirled a piece of hair around your finger, thinking about the answer to the question, when suddenly it hit him.

He had to wait a few moments as you were slowly writing down your answer, still not 100% sure of yourself. It was only after you had taken an earphone out that you jumped, furiously rubbing out the answer on the whiteboard and writing a new one, looking much more satisfied with the new answer. The team counted down, and as Liam spoke, you almost dropped the whiteboard.

“Feeling Something Bad by Ellise. She’ll start singing it randomly when she concentrates, which is usually a giveaway to what songs she's been listening to recently.” Liam said his answer so confidently that it made you feel as though you were inferior because he knew your favourite song and it took you a decent minute to think of it. Liam got another point as he had gotten two of your answers right, and you were starting to feel competitive.

“Alright Liam, who does Y/N get along with best in the F2 paddock? Oscar Piastri, Dan Ticktum, or you?”

“Oh, oh. Well, she hangs out with Oscar a lot, but I don’t know if she would say they get along better than we do? Like, she’s closer with Oscar but we get along best, if that makes sense? I don’t think it does. I’m gonna say Oscar because I don’t want to be rejected, but I really hope I’m wrong and that she says me.” Liam rambled, finally deciding on Oscar, and when you were told to turn your board around, Liam’s heart sank a little. You had written Oscar, and as you began trying to defend yourself, Liam waved it off and laughed to hide the disappointment in his eyes, but you could see it clear as day. You tried to move on like he did, to keep playing the game like you didn’t hurt her best friend and crush.

You began trying to cheer the Kiwi up, dancing along to the songs playing, and occasionally belting out the chorus. He was laughing along, finally joining you to sing when you were screaming the lyrics to Promiscuous, dancing all around the garage and trying to pull him up around with you. While you were dancing with some of the employees off camera, being recorded for Instagram, Liam was still in frame of the main camera, a fond smile on his face, and anyone who had looked at him could see that he was completely and utterly whipped for you, but you were too caught up in Nelly Furtado to see it yourself.

It was your turn to answer questions now, passing Liam the whiteboard that had a little love note written on it.

I’m going to crush you.

You wrote, and Liam thought it was adorable how competitive you got in trivial games like this, but it always made him try even harder just to give you some semblance of a battle.

“Y/N! How old was Liam when he started karting?” The guy you had begun to think was not an actual Hitech employee asked. The three ages to choose from scribbled on the whiteboard. You studied them for a moment, and could see Liam in the corner of your eye writing out his own answer.

“He was seven, because I remember him telling me that there’s regulations in New Zealand that you can’t race go-karts competitively until you’re seven and then won the race.” You explained, remembering the story he had told you easily, it was one of your favourites, purely because of the joy on Liam’s face when he recounted it.

He turned the board around, showing the exact answer you had given, and he gave you a cheeky smile in response to your silent gloating about getting a point. There was nothing cuter in his eyes than you getting so worked up about a game.

“What is Liam’s pre-race superstition?” Before the board with the question and possible answers came up, your mouth blurted out the answer you already knew all too well.

“He gets in the car from the left.” You practically yelled, and Liam looked at you with wide eyes, not hearing your words but seeing the excitement at knowing the answer.

“How did you know that?” One of the Hitech PR asked as her main priority was to stir up more rumours about the two of you, as it was always good for the team’s press.

“Because I’m just as superstitious about getting in from the right side, so when he found out, he asked the team if we could switch around how our cars are placed in the garage so that we could meet in the middle, do our little ritual, and then get in the car from there.” You explained, watching as Liam wrote down his answer with no idea of the words you were saying.

When Liam turned the board around, he explained the exact same story you had, and you giggled when he finished, showing off a proud smile before putting the pieces together that you had already run the same spiel.

“It’s quite cute that the two of you explain things using basically the same words.” That same PR lady stated. And you almost rolled your eyes, almost. But you caught Liam blushing slightly, and a small, stupid part of you began jumping up and down, because not only did someone think your relationship with Liam was cute, but he blushed at that.

“It happens when you spend so much time with someone. I’ve started picking up Kiwi slang, and he’s learning some of my slang. You don’t realise it until you say something to someone when he’s not there and they’ve got no idea what I mean. It’s so normal for Liam to always be by my side, and me by his that when I’m with other people it feels weird.” You started on a ramble, something you were known for. And then just would… not… fucking… stop. The press officer looked satisfied, but as you had finally gotten your mouth to stop moving, you were scared to look over at Liam.

“Whenever she’s not within arm’s reach, I feel like I’m missing something.” Liam spoke quietly, and you gulped as you heard his words. The man was going to kill you, surely. This little production crew didn’t give a shit about your blossoming romance though, as they hurried you through to the next questions. You and Liam barely looked at eachother, your answers shorter and much more vague than they were before. You just wanted to get out of this chair and go freak out in an empty office somewhere.

“Well, the winner of this round is Liam, which means he has officially overtaken Y/N in the Hitech championship. How do you guys feel about this one?” The producers asked. You would usually have felt a bit of a blow to your chest finding out you had been beaten in two ways, but you truly couldn’t think of anything except your proximity to Liam.

“I think we found out a lot, and I’m glad to finally be ahead in the championship. I think it’s the only time I’ll ever be able to beat Mighty Mouse in anything.” Liam chuckled, reverting back to your ‘little sister’ nickname because he felt like the distance would help him process his emotions.

“Hey, you already beat me in height, age, and supercar experience, you gotta let me have something.” You whined, you looked over at Liam with a pout and puppy eyes, unintentionally making his heart pound out of his chest.

“Well you’re the cuter one of the team, and you’re a hell of a lot smarter than me, so I’d say you’re winning enough. Plus you’re higher up in the drivers standings than me.” Liam replied, leaning closer to stare into your eyes, barely two inches between your faces, you blinked slowly, afraid that any sudden movements would scare him away.

His large hand reached up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, then coming to rest at the side of your neck, his thumb resting on your jaw.

“I don’t think you realise what you do to me.” You mumbled, leaning forward very slightly to nudge your nose against Liam’s. His breath hitched, eyes boring into your soul in a way that made you freeze.

“It can’t be any worse than what you do to me. Looking as beautiful as you do, all I want to do is hold you, keep you close, show you off to the world, and I want to call you mine. I want to take you home and show you around my hometown, I want to introduce you to my parents, to take you to parties with my friends, I want to curl up in your apartment watching Harry Potter movies, and I want to dance around the kitchen with you at 2 in the morning making pancakes. I want to live my life with you.” Liam confessed, and for a few moments, you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

You lurched forward, balling your fists up in that stupid blue sweater and pulling him closer. Liam’s eyes closed instinctively as your lips met, the coconut lip balm you applied before you came into the office was shared on your tongues, Liam’s exploring your mouth with vigor. You had never imagined him to be this passionate, this intense. But you had no complaints, his hands tugging you forward until you fell onto his lap, legs slotting in beside his own to straddle him on the wheely chair.

You broke away for a moment to catch your breath, eyes surveying every square inch of Liam’s face to commit it to memory. He truly was a gorgeous man, and you hoped you would get to see him like this many more times to come. He caught the look in your eyes and dove back into your lips, his teeth capturing your bottom lip in a bruising grip, a whimper escaping your lips before someone clearing their throat interrupted you.

“I guess we have everything we need for the video. Thanks you two.”

[spine-buster]

the crossover.

gif credit @/denis-scorianov

A/N: This has a little less Rasmus/Lusine in it...but we see a whole lot of others 😌It is named after 'the crossover' trope, after all! Let's see if you guys can get all the callback scenes I've sprinkled in here LOL

Lusine Forrester was shitting bricks.

Rasmus had invited her to a hockey game. Hockey Night in Canada versus the Boston Bruins. He’d done it when he’d met her for lunch for a second time that week, and he’d been so earnest about it. “You were sort of accidentally brought up in conversation with my best friend William and his girlfriend and now they really want to meet you.” She couldn’t say no to him. She could tell he was so nervous asking her, that he probably thought about it over and over thinking she’d say no. When she said yes, a smile overtook his face for the rest of the meal. “You can hang out with his girlfriend during the game – she’s the sweetest, you’ll really like her – and then I really, really want to take you out afterwards.”

Bianca was amused she was going to a hockey game and hanging out with other wives and girlfriends despite not being a wife nor a girlfriend. Lusine understood completely, but the way things were going with Rasmus…well, she didn’t want to jinx it. After their conversation at Sushi On Bloor, Lusine knew they were on the same page. Bianca also made sure she dressed appropriately. No dresses, she said. “It’s a hockey game, not a gala.” No hoodies either. “A lot of those women dress impeccably despite it only being a hockey game.” Lusine also wanted to make a good first impression, of course – however good of a first impression a nineteen-year-old could make in a room full of older women. Though in the eyes of the law she was a legal adult, she was still in her teens in the sense of the word, and she wondered if that would show regardless of her maturity level. Nevertheless, Bianca helped Lusine settle on a good outfit: a cream turtleneck and high-rise jeans. Chic, trendy, age-appropriate, location-appropriate. “Keep your hair down,” Bianca advised, “and light makeup, but you can borrow my Dior red lipstick if he keeps his promise of taking you out afterwards. It won’t transfer if you finally kiss him.”

Lusine tried to swallow whatever anxiety she had about the night when she entered the giant glass doors at 50 Bay Street. Just as Rasmus promised, there was a man behind the podium, a short hallway and one closed black door behind him. The man was dressed in a sleek black suit. “Can I help you?” he asked.

“Hi, yes,” Lusine tried to remain calm. “I’m—I’m here for the game.”

“This is the executive and member’s club entrance, miss,” he said. Lusine noticed he gave her a quick up-down. “You’ll have to look at your ticket to see what gate you need to enter.”

“Oh! I’m not—” she began quickly, digging into her purse. Rasmus had given her a Platinum Club pass, which was apparently something that special guests of the players were issued so they could get into the family lounge. “Rasmus gave me this,” she said, handing it to him.

“Where did you find this?” the man asked.

Okay, now Lusine was nervous. “It wasn’t found…it was given to me by Rasmus Sandin,” she tried to clarify. “My name is Lusine Forrester. He said I could show you that and I’d be let in to the family lounge.”

“Do you have a piece of photo ID?”

Lusine dug for her wallet and retrieved her driver’s license. She handed it over to him, trying not to let her hand shake in the process. She felt like she was crossing the border or something. Despite offering the evidence, the man began shaking his head. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Miss, I’m afraid I can’t let you in.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m not sure how you got hold of this pass—”

“—Rasmus Sandin gave me that pass—”

“—Your name doesn’t appear—”

“—Can you check one more time? It’s not Lucy, it’s Lusine,” she stressed the common mistake. “L-U-S-I-N-E—”

“—Miss—”

“—Please—”

As if on cue, the black door she’d noticed before behind the man opened, and a woman walked out wearing a Leafs jersey. “Hey Adam, did Lusine Forrester come in yet?” she asked.

Alarm bells went off in Lusine’s head. “That’s me!” she exclaimed.

The woman’s face lit up upon her realization. “Lusine! Hey! Adam—this is Lusine, she’d with Rasmus,” she said quickly to Adam. She turned towards her and smiled. “Come with me, Lusine! I’ll bring you to the family lounge.”

Lusine let out a sigh of relief. She took one last look at this Adam person before joining the woman behind his desk and walking through the door with her. Lusine didn’t hate him – he was just doing his job, and she could imagine the number of people trying to get through these doors, pretending to be somebodies or more important than they actually were, especially young women her age – but her photo ID should have been sufficient. “Thank you. You came just at the right time,” she thanked the woman.

“No problem. I’m Bee, by the way, Bee McTavish,” she said warmly. “It’s really nice to meet you. Rasmus is really excited that you’re here.”

Lusine smiled but held her breath. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. Any first game the boys get excited. He’s definitely going to try and show off for you,” Bee exclaimed. “We’re coming off a pretty big overtime win against Tampa Bay so the boys will want to keep the momentum going.”

Lusine nodded, knowing what Bee was talking about. Though she only knew some players in context of how Rasmus described them – most notably William Nylander, his best friend and mentor, who had scored the overtime goal against Tampa – Bee spoke as if she knew every member of the team like they were old friends. Lusine looked discreetly at her jersey as they stepped onto the elevator together and noticed the ‘44’ and ‘Rielly’ on the back. “Was the first game just as nerve-wracking for you too?” Lusine couldn’t help but ask.

Bee gave her a warm smile. “Absolutely. But you get used it. It becomes routine to put the jersey on and let the nerves disappear…well, not disappear, but get transferred over to the game.”

“I—I don’t have a jersey.”

“I know. Rasmus left you one. It’s in the family lounge.”

Bee kept up small-talk with Lusine as she led the way through some hallways until she finally opened a door that led to the aforementioned family lounge. There were already quite a few women present – which made Lusine wonder if she was a bit late – and even some kids. “I’ll introduce you to everyone, just stick with me,” Bee said quickly guiding her into the room. She introduced Lusine to Amber Brodie, wife of TJ Brodie, and to Courtney Muzzin, wife of Jake Muzzin, and to Stephanie, recent fiancée of Mitch Marner.

Before Bee could introduce her to anyone else, a small child ran up to her and clung on to her leg, screaming her name as he did. Bee bent down and scooped him up in her arms, balancing him on her hip easily. “This big boy is Jace Tavares,” she said, giving him a big, dramatic kiss. Lusine recognized that last time – Tavares was the captain of the Leafs. “Jace, can you say hi to Lusine?”

“Hiiii Oosie,” he said, waving his little hand at her.

“Hi Jace!” Lusine waved back.

“That would be my little rascal,” Lusine heard a voice approach them. “You must be Lusine?”

“That’s me.”

“I’m Aryne Tavares. It’s nice to meet you!”

The captain’s wife. Lusine shook her hand and smiled. “It’s nice to meet you as well. Thanks for…hosting me?”

“We were all very excited to hear Rasmus was bringing a guest,” she smiled back.

“What’d I miss?! Is she here yet?” another frantic voice was heard. All three ladies looked behind them.

Lusine’s heart stopped beating. Approaching her was none other than Aberdeen Bloom. Lusine was sure she looked like a deer in the headlights. It was Aberdeen fucking Bloom. She felt like she was going to throw up. Aberdeen was a novelist and had just released one of her favourite books, In August. She’d been lauded for it. Despite only publishing one book, Aberdeen was one of Lusine’s favourite authors. She’d devoured her debut novel. And here she was, standing in the same fucking room as her.

Aberdeen eyed her, then Bee, then her again, a giant smile appearing on her face. “You must be Lusine,” she said happily, like they were old friends. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Lusine replied, hoping to God she didn’t sound nervous.

“I apologize in advance for anything William may say to you tonight when he meets you,” she warned playfully. “But Rasmus is one of his best friends – kind of like his little brother – so he’s going to rip on him a lot. I’ll yell at him if he gets out of hand.”

Of course. Of fucking course. Lusine couldn’t believe she was so stupid that she forgot. William Nylander and Aberdeen Bloom were dating. She remembered watching a book talk with Aberdeen just this past September and she mentioned how she was Brendan Shanahan’s executive assistant and that’s how she’d met William. The whole talk was fascinating – Aberdeen had told each member of the audience to “bank on yourself”. When Lusine thought about it, it was what she did when she decided to defy her parents and leave home to live alone.

“Thanks, but I’m sure it’ll be okay,” she smiled. “Hey, do you ladies mind telling me where the washroom is? I want to make sure I go before the game starts.”

“It’s just back there – use the family one,” Bee pointed. “When you get back, we’ll have your jersey ready. Then we can take out seats!”

Lusine hurried to the bathroom. She closed the door and double-checked that it was locked. She didn’t really need to go – she just needed to compose herself. She took out her phone to text Bianca.

She took a very deep breath and held it in before exhaling slowly, eyeing herself in the mirror. “Don’t be a fucking idiot,” she told herself. “Be cool. Be fucking cool.”

Her phone buzzed and she looked down to see what Bianca had texted back.

Lusine locked the screen without responding. She took another deep breath and exhaled slowly. She gave herself one last look in the mirror. “Don’t. Be. A. Fucking. Idiot.”

***

The ladies had been so ridiculously lovely the entire duration of the game that Lusine forgot she was ever nervous. Aryne had taken the aisle seat, then Bee beside her (and with Jace switching in between their laps most of the game), then Lusine, then Aberdeen. They talked to her and included her in conversation, asked her about what she was studying and where she worked. Aryne even had a mini-meltdown when Lusine had to break it to them that she’d just turned nineteen years old. “These are your glory days!!! Your prime!!! Oh God, to be nineteen again!” Lusine and Aberdeen even spoke at length about U of T and which courses to take and avoid. All in all, she was well looked after. The game ended with her feeling calm, yet anxious to see Rasmus.

Oh, the game – the Leafs had beaten Boston 5-2. Auston Matthews had scored two goals, and so had John Tavares, which made Aryne and Bee go crazy (same with Jace). Rasmus even got an assist on John’s second goal, which made Lusine very happy – once it was pointed out to her. Hockey in an arena was much different than watching hockey on TV, and she realized just how much she relied on the play-by-play announcer to know what was going on. While the rest of the women seemed to understand every detail, she had a hard time keeping track of Rasmus on the ice. Regardless, she had fun, and she knew Rasmus’s assist meant he could argue he’d impressed her, like he kept promising he’d do if he knew she was watching.

Bee and Aryne led the way towards the waiting area where most of the families waited for their significant others. Lusine still had her jersey on as she walked with Aberdeen a few paces behind them. She looked over to her. “Can I tell you something I have to get off my chest?”

“Of course.”

“It’s not about Rasmus or anything.”

“What’s it about?”

Lusine took a deep breath. “I absolutely adored In August,” she said – something she’d been wanting to say the entire night, but there was never a right time, even during intermissions. “I just—it was just so good, and I devoured it when it came out.”

Aberdeen’s face lit up. “Oh, thank you so much!” she said so earnestly, even putting her hand over her heart. “That means so much to me!”

“I even, uh, watched this livestream of a book talk you did in September where you said to bank on yourself. You meant it in terms of young women who want to become writers but you have no idea how much I take those words to heart.”

Aberdeen hadn’t stopped smiling. “I remember the exact one you’re talking about,” she said. “That night was a special night for me too. I’m so happy to hear you took that advice.”

“Doing that kinda got me here,” Lusine began explaining, not being able to shut up. “I was never supposed to go to U of T, but I did. I was never supposed to move downtown on my own, but I did…”

“It’s amazing what can happen when we bank on ourselves, eh?” Aberdeen winked.

Bee held the door open as they got to the waiting area. Lusine noticed Mitch and Stephanie already saying goodbye to some of the others who were already there – same with Courtney and Jake Muzzin. Lusine and Aberdeen continued speaking until, out of the corner of her eye, she saw her door open, Rasmus stepping out while William was right behind him. They were both in full suits – a rule hockey players had, she guessed.

Rasmus’s eyes immediately lit up when he saw her. “Hey,” he smiled, noticing that she hadn’t taken off her jersey. She looked great. Stunning. And to see her in blue, wearing his number and his name across her back. He was done for.

“Is this Lusine?” William asked, a wicked smile on his face. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said, extending his hand.

“Likewise.”

“I’m her boyfriend,” he nodded towards Aberdeen, who could only shake her head and giggle silently to herself.

“She told me,” Lusine giggled too.

William was incredibly charming, but not as charming as Rasmus, who moved him out of the way so he could get closer to Lusine. “How’d you like the game?” he asked.

“It was great,” she smiled at him. “I saw you got an assist. It was a bit hard to follow without the play-by-play from the TV.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll get used to it,” he said. “D’you wanna—I mean—are you up for go—”

“So are we going out for drinks or what?” William asked. Both his and Aberdeen’s faces were hopeful.

Rasmus looked at her. So did William and Aberdeen. All waiting. Lusine didn’t think it would be up to her, but it was. She nodded her head. “I could drink.”

***

MARBL was fun. Aberdeen and William were hilarious. They’d all ordered appetizers they shared, and drinks – Lusine had one Pink Flamingo and then settled on water since she had a long day of work and studying tomorrow – and just had a great time. William, in true unofficial older brother fashion, told some embarrassing stories about Rasmus. Aberdeen told some embarrassing stories about William to help out Rasmus. In between smiles and laughs, Rasmus held her hand underneath the table. And in between more smiles and laughs, he draped his arm behind her over the top of the booth. Rasmus would look at her every so often with a smile on his face, and she’d catch him, and both their smiles would become exponentially bigger. Aberdeen could have barfed because they were so cute. She even took pictures. Discreet ones at first, but then ones where she told them to pose, and Rasmus made stupid faces – for long enough that Lusine didn’t catch on until it was too late. They’d always erupt in a fit of giggles. Rasmus and Lusine returned the favour for Aberdeen and William. She barely remembered it happening because she was laughing so much, but at some point Lusine had given Aberdeen her Instagram handle and now they were Instagram friends. That’s where Aberdeen sent Lusine all the pictures she took of her and Rasmus together. Lusine was friends with Aberdeen Bloom, the author, on Instagram now. No big deal or anything.

When the night was over, Rasmus and Lusine hugged William and Aberdeen goodbye before getting back in his car so he could drive her back to her apartment. When they arrived, he parked on the street even though he wasn’t supposed to – it was late, so it wasn’t like parking enforcement was around to give him a ticket. She made sure to grab her jersey from the back. Rasmus walked her to the front door.

“This was so fun,” she said as she felt him hold her hand for the short walk.

“You’re like our new good luck charm. You should come to every game so we can win 5-2,” he smiled.

“I don’t know about that,” she giggled. “But if you invite me again, I don’t think I’d have the control to say no.”

The stopped outside the front door. By now, Rasmus knew better than to lean in and kiss her. So instead, he squeezed her hand. “What about next Friday? We’re playing Calgary. It’s Hockey Hall of Fame night so there’s gonna be this big ceremony before the game. You might even get to meet some of them and make your brothers jealous.”

“Will the girls be there?”

Rasmus’s face dropped. “I’ll be there,” he deadpanned, causing her to laugh. “I don’t know if they will. But we’re in Buffalo the next night so I think they will be.”

“I’ll be there,” Lusine confirmed.

[themaribatpit]

Saturday Challenge: And They Were Roommates

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event

Prompt: And They Were Roommates

Rated: T

Tim was surprised to learn that MDC Designs had set up shop in Gotham City of all places.  He was in dire need of a new suit for the Wayne Gala after the last one was sliced to ribbons. The mysterious designer had worked with Jagged Stone when she was just a teenager. Now he was on his way to her home studio across town.  

Tim got out of the car and knocked on the front door of the apartment.  "Just a minute!" A young woman's voice called from the other side of the door.  She rushed over and opened the door to greet him, on the other side of the door was a petite young woman with dark hair and blue eyes.  "Hi, you must be Tim, right?" She asked cheerfully.

"Yeah, are you MDC?" Tim asked, maybe she was their assistant or something.  

To his surprise she nodded, "yes, I am. Those are my initials." she explained.

"I was hoping to commission you for a suit," Tim held up the order confirmation.

"Yes, by all means, come in" she said as she opened the door a little wider to let him in.  Tim looked around the studio as he let himself in, and he found it hard to believe he was still in Gotham.  

There were pink fairy lights hanging on the walls, the furniture was either pastel pink, lilac, and maybe a soft jade green on occasion.  There was a small kitchen in the corner of the studio and a few separate rooms off to the side.  She gestured to the small podium in the middle of the studio.  She had asked Tim to wear simple, basic clothes so that she could take his measurements accurately. Tim took off his shoes and made his way over.

"So, why Gotham?" Tim asked, trying to make some conversation with the young designer taking his measurements.  "Not that I'm complaining just that..." he assured her.

"It's fine," she said, "I came here because I thought," Marinette tried to choose her next words carefully.  "I thought maybe I could bring some light into Gotham City, it's just so different from what I'm used to growing up." She explained, "Sometimes it's so different that it inspires me... creatively, I mean."

"Braver men have tried to do just that." Tim thought.  "So uh, Miss..." Tim stumbled on the young woman's name.

"Just Marinette is fine," she said, smiling up at him.  He honestly wasn't expecting her to be so... friendly, especially someone who had been living in Gotham for any length of time.

"Can you finish the suit by the end of the month?" Tim asked.

"Won’t be a problem, I'd say it’ll be done maybe two weeks from now," Marinette told him.

He heard the door open behind him but couldn't turn around and see who it was. Not unless he wanted to annoy the person taking a tape measure to him. They were probably a roommate or someone, this was clearly a studio that someone lived in. Maybe they had a roommate or there was another artist who was living here. That was until Tim heard the other person speak.

"Hey Pixie, need anything while I'm out?" a voice asked, one that was too familiar to Tim.  He whipped his head around to find...

"Jason?!"

"Replacement?!"

"What's he doing here?!" The two of them asked in unison.

Marinette gave Jason a confused look, "Wait, he's 'Replacement'?"

"Dude, that's what MDC knows me as?" Tim seemed more annoyed at Jason than at Marinette.  "Also what are you doing here?" He asked, while Jason looked through the fridge for something that wasn't either sweet or an expensive wheel of cheese.

"I live here." Jason deadpanned, grabbing a soda can from the fridge.

As Jason was looking through the fridge, Tim whispered to Marinette. “I’d move out if I were you, Jason’s dangerous.”

Just as Tim finishes whispering to Marinette, Jason yells “I can hear you asshole!”

Marinette frowned at Tim’s advice, “I know he’s the Red Hood. We’ve been living together for a while.”

Tim’s eyes widen, he looks back at Jason to see him walking back towards the living room. “You told her?” he cries incredulously.

Jason takes a large gulp of soda before answering, “I kinda came back injured.”

Marinette interrupted. “You still owe me a bolt of silk.”

Jason continued, ignoring Marinette’s interruption. “I kinda bled all over her stuff.” Then taking another swig of his soda.

Tim tentatively asks “So, uh, how did you two become roommates?”

“Rent in Gotham is stupid expensive, it takes two people’s income to pay for rent and utilities.” Marinette huffed.

“Yeah Timmy, not everyone can afford to live the high life at Wayne Manor” Jason said.

“Jason, if I lose customers because of you, this tape measure is going to have a very tight fit around your neck” Marinette hissed, before giving Tim an apologetic smile.

Tim groans and rubs his own forehead, “Okay fine, but what about you Jason? I doubt money was the issue.” he asked.

Jason shrugs, “Do you honestly think anyone would go looking for the Red Hood in a bright pink fashion studio?”

“Point taken” agreed Tim. Marinette resumes measuring him, moving on to measure his waist.

“Whoa Replacement, have you gained weight? No wonder you need a new suit.” joked Jason.

Marinette shot a glare at Jason, “All right that’s enough, don’t you need to be somewhere?”

Jason tosses his empty soda can into the bin all while chuckling at himself, “All right fine, need anything while I’m out?”

Marinette ponders for a second, “Chicken and wine, I’ll make Coq au vin tonight.”

Jason smirks, “Sure I’ll head to the grocery store to and ask for cock and wine” laughing like a maniac before leaving.

Tim releases a breath that he has been holding, “finally some peace and quiet.”

“Sorry, he’s usually out or reading quietly in the corner when other customers are here.” Marinette assured him.

“We’re brothers, trust me this is us being friendly.” He told her.

“Brothers?” Marinette asked, she would have thought that meant they had the same surnames.

“Adopted brothers. ” Tim clarified, Marinette nodded her head as she gathered up her sewing supplies.  

“I see” Marinette replied, she looked over at Tim as he stepped down from the podium.  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.  I’ll have your suit ready in time for the Wayne Gala.” she said as she stowed her supplies away.  

BONUS

Bonus 1:

The next time Red Hood and Red Robin run into each other.

Jason: You need to lay off Alfred's baking, or you might need a new Robin suit soon.

Tim: Why? Are you gonna bleed all over this one too?

Bonus 2:

Ladybug climbs in through the window late one night, Jason dramatically flicks on a lamp.

Red Hood: Well well well, it seems you have some explaining to do young lady.

[ragingbookdragon]

The Best Of Us

Batfamily x M!Reader

Word Count: 3,035 Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: And here we are with a Batbrother fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

It wasn’t an inferiority complex. Not really. He wasn’t prone to anger or any of the other symptoms listed under it—and he checked. Multiple times. But there was something about being the only non-vigilante in his family of vigilantes that made him feel inadequate compared to the rest. Bruce had the Justice League, Dick and Jason had their own fantastic groups that saved the day, and Tim and Damian were still in school, but even they had their groups too. Hell, even Alfred still had contacts from his days in MI-5. And yet, he had none of the skills his brothers or father had, no extensive martial arts training, master detective skills, or weapon mastery. He was completely normal—or maybe abnormal in this case. And on some level, he resented that he couldn’t be like his family—maybe he did have an inferiority complex.

***

The greatest thing in (Y/N)’s mind about still being allowed to live at home was that no matter what, there was always food around to eat—Alfred saw to it that every growing man in the house had enough to eat—that being said, their grocery bills were outrageouslyexpensive.

He balanced his tablet in one hand, the other hand adjusting the tie around his neck as he stepped into the kitchen, quick to raise the tablet in time to avoid whacking his youngest brother in the head.

“Morning,” he greeted, taking his seat at the table, just after Jason’s. A chorus of tired, ‘mornings’ came back at him and he quirked an eyebrow. “Wow, loving the enthusiasm this morning, guys.”

Jason snorted and propped his chin on his palm, watching (Y/N) for a moment. “I seriously don’t understand how you’re always so chipper in the morning.”

He huffed a laugh and took a sip of the coffee that Alfred set down. “Someone has to be the ray of sunshine in this group of gray clouds.” (Y/N) cast a glance at Dick who was shoveling eggs into his mouth. “And it seems like our eldest is busy feeding his bottomless pit.” Dick was fast to shoot him a glare, that he returned with a smile.

Just then, Tim trudged into the kitchen in an oversized hoodie and plopped down in his seat, immediately shoving the plate in front of him to drop his head onto the table.

“Jesus Christ, you guys,” (Y/N) sighed, flicking at his tablet for a moment. “You’ve seriously gotta take a day off to recuperate.”

“What do you think we do during the day?” Dick retorted, taking a swig of milk.

“Okay I think you’re confusing the entire day with the first half,” he reasoned. “When I say take a day off, I mean the whole twenty-four hours.” He glanced at everyone, and the only person who seemed to not be tired was Alfred, and that’s partly because (Y/N) believed he was immortal. “You guys are gonna run yourselves into the ground,” he said. “I just don’t think—”

“We know what we are doing, (Y/N),” Damian interrupted with a glare. “We know our limits better than you do.”

He let out a sigh and shook his head. This conversation had happened many times before and it wasn’t anything new.

“I’m not saying I know them better than you Damian, I’m simply saying that you guys should take a day to relax so that something doesn’t happen on the job that you can’t control.”

(Y/N) glanced at his father. “Dad, c’mon, you know I’ve got a point.”

Bruce hummed and flipped the page of the newspaper. “So does Damian.” He met (Y/N)’s eyes and nodded. “You don’t have to worry so much, (Y/N). We know what we can handle.”

He stared at Bruce for a moment then scowled. “I don’t even know why I bother,” he muttered, and Damian was fast to chase his comment.

“I don’t know why you bother either. You’ve never once experienced what we do every night.”

(Y/N) met his youngest sibling’s glare. “Just because I don’t stick my neck out for each person in this city night after night doesn’t mean that I don’t know what it’s like to be exhausted.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “So, you know what it’s like to be exhausted from blood loss because you’ve been stabbed or shot? Or to be exhausted from saving the lives of innocent people? You do?”

“I—” (Y/N)’s mouth opened, then he snapped it shut and looked away with a darkened expression, tasting something sour in his mouth. “No, I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought,” Damian finalized, and in the wake of the uncomfortable tension, a cellphone went off.

Everyone started looking for theirs, but (Y/N) muttered, “It’s mine.”

He picked it up and put on a cheerful voice. “Good morning Angela…yes, I just got the floor plan…” he tapped at the screen on his tablet. “Do me a favor and move the people from table eight to table three. Mr. Robinson is better friends with Mrs. Grace and will certainly give us a warmer atmosphere in that area.”

(Y/N) paused and listened, then he stood from the table and pushed his chair in. “Let me get to the office and we can situate the rest of the guests for tonight…alright, see you soon. Bye.”

He pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call, then took the black backpack that Alfred was holding to him. “Thanks Alfred.”

“Of course, Master (Y/N). Have a pleasant day at work.”

He huffed a laugh, but it was anything but amused. “I have to give a speech tonight in front of the entire company and three different magazines.” He glanced at Bruce. “Think you’ll be able to attend tonight? It’d mean a lot to me.” Bruce grunted, his way of telling (Y/N) that he’d try, but to not hope for a miracle.

It was fine, he was used to parentless ceremonies and events. He cleared his throat and shrugged on the backpack, making his way to the garage door.

“See you guys later.”

***

He’d given a few speeches in his short twenty-four years, and while he’d never say he was an expert on public speaking, he did know his way around a podium. That being said, every time he had to do a speech, he felt like vomiting—nerves he chocked it up to.

(Y/N) cast a glance around the packed ballroom, quietly groaning at the massive amount of people. His own table was empty, save for Angela and thank god for him, Lucius. He couldn’t help but frown at the name tags sitting in front of the empty seats.

“Wondering where the rest of the gang is?”

He met Lucius’ eyes and gave a halfhearted smile. “I’d like to think they took my advice and took the night off but…something tells me that the night called to them.” His lips pulled downwards. “I’m not going to act like this is a surprise, Lucius. I couldn’t even get them to show up for my university graduation.”

(Y/N) smiled and stood up, grabbing the notecards beside him. “What makes you think I could get them to show up to this?” He left the table and moved to the side of the stage, waiting for his name to be called. His fingers briefly shifted to his chest, feeling his heart fluttering beneath chest, nerves causing his breathing to come in short bursts. (Y/N) shut his eyes and took a deep breath, letting a pleasant smile cross his face as the presenter called his name, and walked up the steps.

The bright flash of photography momentarily blinded him, but he smiled through it. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us tonight at the Centennial Inside Alliance Award Ceremony.” He flashed everyone a million-watt smile. “My name is (Y/N) Wayne, and as many of you know, I am a senior editor for Inside Alliance. It is my pleasure tonight to recognize Inside Alliance’s top writer for the year.”

(Y/N) glanced around the room, making sure to catch the eyes of the hundreds of guests.

“Inside Alliance was created on August fourteenth, nineteen-twenty by a group of immigrant mothers and fathers who wanted to bring knowledge of their homes and cultures to the rest of world. Some of those countries being Germany, Romania, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Israel, and many, many others.”

“The production of their valuable time and extensive care created one of the greatest magazines that is still in business today, that brings attention to the worldwide issues that many groups face, while still connecting to their roots of educating the public on cultures and groups.”

He smiled. “It is with my upmost honor that I congratulate and introduce Miss Flora Janaliyeva, one of our newest and greatest writers that has joined Inside Alliance, and the winner of tonight’s Inside Alliance Award.”

(Y/N) turned to the side and grinned at Flora as she ascended the stairs. Her long black hair was braided down the length of her back and she wore a bright and floral-patterned gown. She reached (Y/N) and he reached with his right, shaking her hand, and handed her the glass award with the other.

“Miss Janaliyeva, it is with honor and congratulations that I give you this award for your excellent talent and recognition of ability from Inside Alliance.”

She smiled brightly and accepted the award. “Thank you, Mister Wayne, the honor is mine.” He nodded politely once more and descended the stairs as she began her speech, quietly taking his place back at the table.

“Well done, Mister Wayne,” Lucius smiled and (Y/N) let out a deep breath.

“I’m just surprised I was able to do that without stuttering or panicking.” He glanced over, smile lowering slightly. “Lucius, are you alright?”

The older man dabbed at his forehead and nodded, though when he breathed, it sounded labored. “I’m fine,” he assured, then reached up to rub at his chest.

(Y/N) shifted. “I don’t think you’re alright Lucius.” He leaned over. “Are you having chest pain?”

“I—yes,” he grit out then met (Y/N)’s gaze. “My chest is getting—tight and I…and I—”

He started to slump over and (Y/N) shot to his feet, eyes widening with fear. “Lucius!” The yell startled the crowd and Flora, who all looked over at the two.

(Y/N) pulled the older man back and pressed his ear to his chest, listening. He pulled away and yelled, “Someone call an ambulance! I think he’s having a heart attack!”

He helped Lucius to the floor and immediately pressed his palms to the man’s chest, starting compressions. His breath came in panicked spurts and he kept looking at Lucius’ face.

“Just hand on Lucius. You’re going to be okay.” (Y/N) kept at it until the EMT’s arrived and they knelt beside them.

“Let us take over.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, too afraid that if he did, Lucius would die, but one of the EMT’s placed a hand on his shoulder while the other slide their hands underneath (Y/N)’s.

“Son, we’ll take it from here.”

(Y/N)’s arms went slack, and he let the medic pull him away, watching as they took over and started moving him onto the stretcher.

“Please, save him. He’s—he’s friends with my family I—”

The medic nodded firmly. “We’ll do all we can.”

And all (Y/N) remembered was someone ushering him into a taxi heading for the hospital.

***

The first people that arrived were Lucius’ family who were grateful for (Y/N)’s actions, but the young man could barely grimace as they disappeared into the hospital room, leaving him sitting outside, his head in his hands. Tears gathered in his eyes as he thought back to what the ER doctor told him.

***

“Mister Fox is in a stable condition, but you have to understand, Mister Wayne, his heart is very weak.”

“But—but he’ll be okay right?”

“Based on Mister Fox’s past conditions, he’s verging into heart failure. His heart is too weak to keep up with what the body needs.”

“And…and what does his body need at this point?”

“At this point? A new heart.”

***

He sucked in a breath and fought to keep the sob from escaping his throat, just as heard, “(Y/N)!”

His head shot up and he saw his father and older brothers coming down the hallway. (Y/N) clambered to his feet.

“Dad I—” he started, but cut off as he choked on a sob, and Bruce pulled him into a hug, holding (Y/N) as he sobbed. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I tried my best but—”

“Shh,” Bruce hushed, a firm, but gentle hand coming to rest at the back of his son’s neck. “You did all that you could.”

He pulled back and wiped his face. “But Lucius needs a new heart, and I don’t know what to do. I should’ve seen this coming. He hasn’t been feeling well the past few weeks and I—”

“(Y/N),” his father said firmly, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He met Bruce’s eyes. “This wasn’t your fault.”

His libs wobbled and he whispered, “But if I were like you guys, I would’ve seen something earlier. I didn’t and now…” sighing, he added, “and now Lucius needs a new heart, or he’ll die.”

Bruce’s sigh was heavier than (Y/N)’s and it made his chest heavy. “We’ll get Lucius a new heart, (Y/N).”

He lowered his head and lamented, “I’m sorry, dad.”

His father squeezed his shoulder then lead him towards Dick and Jason. “Take (Y/N) back home for the night. I’ll stay here with Lucius’ family.”

They nodded and led their brother down the hall, arms firm across his shoulders in a comforting way. They didn’t say anything, knowing that there wasn’t much to offer, but their support was enough for (Y/N), even if he felt horrible.

***

For being the World’s Greatest Detective, his son was evidently the World Best Hider, because it took Bruce a long time to finally find (Y/N). He stepped quietly over to the form sitting on the ledge and took a seat beside him, silently gazing out at the backyard. A bottle appeared in his vision and he focused on it as the smell of whiskey reached his nose.

“Where’d you get that?” he asked but took the bottle anyway.

“Jason gave it to me earlier.” He watched Bruce take a sip. “Figured it fit the occasion.”

Bruce chuckled. “That sounds like Jason’s way of dealing with a problem.”

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth, simply enjoying the calm around the manor and night.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?” Bruce suddenly said.

(Y/N) sighed and set the bottle down, kicking his legs out off the roof. “Lucius said he hadn’t been feeling well recently. And I just passed it up to getting older.” He looked at his father. “If I’d actually paid attention, then I would’ve seen the symptoms.”

“Do you actually know what the symptoms of heart failure and heart attack are?”

“I…no, not really.”

“Then you couldn’t’ve known.” He looked at (Y/N). “Lucius works in my office every day. If anyone should’ve known and seen it, it should’ve been me.” Bruce shook his head. “But you did everything you could at the awards ceremony, and that saved Lucius’ life tonight. You did good.”

“I could’ve done better.” (Y/N) muttered. “I should’ve. I’m your son and I’m practically useless to the family but—”

“Woah, woah,” Bruce interrupted, brows furrowing as he asked, “What are you talking about?”

(Y/N) turned to him. “I am the least useful person in this family. I mean you and the guys are these crazy intelligent, vigilante master detectives and I’m just me.” He wiped away a tear that fell from his eye. “I can’t speak seven different languages or solve murder cases with a single strand of DNA left at the scene of a crime. Hell, I can’t even throw a punch.” He sighed heavily. “The last time I tried, I broke my hand.”

Meeting his father’s gaze, he said, “I just want to be like you guys.” He lowered his head. “I just want to be normal and not an outlier in the family.”

Bruce simply stared at him for a long moment, and while he’d never been privy to let his emotions show on his face, he let them this time—shock and shame. Shame that he didn’t see his greatest achievement suffering.

“(Y/N).”

He didn’t look up at first, but then he did. “Yes sir?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Forever?”

His father sighed. “Son, I…I never wanted you to be like us.”

He gaped at Bruce. “What?”

“(Y/N), every person in this family is driven to do what we do because of our childhoods. You’re the only one who doesn’thave any skeletons in his closet.” He stared at him. “We wish every day that we could be like you and not a day goes by that we don’t think that.”

“I…what?” he floundered, absolutely bewildered at the idea that his father and brothers wanted to be the most boring person ever. “There’s no way that’s true.”

“It is.”

“No.” (Y/N) huffed. “I’m me. I’m plain and boring, work a nine to five job me. I mean I write for a magazine for god sakes! And you guys save the world!”

Bruce chuckled. “And what we wouldn’t give to be just a bit more normal like you, son.” He shrugged. “You think you’re inferior because you’re not a vigilante, but you’re the one thing that keeps us all sane. You give us the perspective of someone who isn’t what we are. Of someone who’s completely normal.”

He reached over and placed a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “And being normal? Being you?” Bruce squeezed firmly. “I don’t want you to be anyone else.”

(Y/N) gazed at him, and though he felt tears in his eyes, he didn’t blink, didn’t let them fall. “I’ve only ever wanted to make you proud.”

Bruce smiled heartfully. “You do, (Y/N). Everyday. Because you’ve always been the best of us.”

[vinvantae]

ᴛᴡɪɴ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ

Part 15/25

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Rating - Mature

Warnings - mentions of sex, alcohol and explicit language

********************************************

Things suddenly all started to feel real when the pilot announced you were landing in Belgium. You had to go have a meeting with Christian and Zak about the fact you and Daniel were now official and you knew neither of them would like it. It was the kind of press that they’d never had to deal with before - yes it was normal for drivers to be friends with rivals on a different team but to date them? Brand new.

Dan placed his hand on your knee to stop your leg shaking and you turned to look at him.

“It’s going to be fine.” His voice was calm, you knew he was right, you were both adults and they couldn’t force you to do anything - but your contract hadn’t been renewed for next year yet so Christian could easily drop you. “I’m pretty sure they already knew that this was coming.”

“And if they didn’t I can just be like ‘well Christian, I didn’t tell you about this but you didn’t tell me about the McLaren contract so I think we’re even.’”

“Babe I think that would just make him more mad.” He chuckled. “We’re two grown adults and as long as it doesn’t impact our races then there shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You already lost Monaco for me, Dan.”

“I was out of the points anyway.” He shrugged. “If anything they should be happy that both of us are in a good place now. We can race with our full potential… because I don’t know about you but the summer break has made me feel like a whole new person. I’m so refreshed and ready to fight.”

You leant over your armrest and kissed him sweetly, he was your rock. He could ground you so easily and it’s one of the reasons you’d missed him so much - when you were stressed pre-race, Max would try his best to chill you out but it was just never the same.

“We’re gonna get you a win.” You smiled, cupping his neck, gently running your thumb over his skin. “Get you on the podium where you belong.”

“Only if you’re there with me.”

“You know it baby.”

The plane hit the tarmac with a soft thud and at the bottom of the plane steps were yours and Dan’s PR teams along with a few others to meet the other drivers.

“So, is it true?”

“…yes.” You admitted, Dan’s arm finding its natural home around his waist. “And we’re ready to approach it in whatever way you think is the best.”

“Well, someone called the press and they’re expecting a walk through the airport from everyone who was on the holiday. It’s up to you to decide whether or not you want to go public now or at a later date - either way you won’t make any comments but you can hold hands or put an arm around her shoulder…”

“Wait, so you’re just letting us be open?”

“If you’re ready to face the press then absolutely. You’re two adults, people date. You just need to be prepared for people to make comments on your relationship that you may not like.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t considered that. “Like what?”

“That you used your relationship with Daniel to get your seat. That you won’t fight each other as hard on the track etc.”

“…well that’s not true, so I’m okay with having to deal with it.” You said, before looking at your boyfriend. “What do you think?”

He let his arm fall from your waist to take your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re finally my girlfriend, I’d face anything to be with you.”

You cooed softly and gave him a sweet kiss before collecting your bags. You glanced through the doors to see just how bad the press was - but luckily for you they’d made a pathway for you to get through without them climbing on top of you.

“Everyone ready to make a move? They’ve brought all of our cars over from Hungary so we can drive to our respective hotels.” Max explained, holding Kelly’s hand.

You all nodded before he pushed open the double doors and you all went through - the flashes from the cameras thankfully weren’t blinding but enough for you to cover your eyes with your sunglasses. Dan kept his hand tightly around yours, both of you dragging your suitcases behind you. It took a little while before the press even noticed you were holding hands but when they did you quickly became the centre of attention.

“Dan! Y/n! Are you dating?!”

“How long has this been going on?!”

Dan opened the passenger door for you and placed a hand on the small of your back as you climbed in before he put your cases in the trunk. His seat was closer to where the press was so as he climbed in, he blocked you from their view and shut the door. “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

“I was just enjoying holding your hand.” You giggled softly. He leant across the middle and kissed you sweetly - not even caring that there were nearby cameras. “But that was the easy part… now we’ve got to face Horner.”

“Let’s get it over and done with.” He hummed, starting the engine. “I can’t stand the man as it is but now he’s going to have an opinion in my relationship? Bastard.”

The drive was quiet, just the sound of the soft music and Dan’s fingers tapping against the wheel. You felt surprisingly relaxed despite your destination - it honestly didn’t matter to you what Christian had to say, you knew your feelings for Dan were real and nothing was gonna get in the way.

He pulled into the track's car lot and the pair of you went to McLaren headquarters to dump your stuff before your meeting. Once you were in Dan’s drivers room, he looped his arms around your waist and kissed your forehead.

“Do we have to go?” He mumbled, eyes meeting yours.

“Unfortunately. You said Zak is going to walk over with us?” You asked, playing with the toggles on Dan’s hoodie. “Hopefully your dear Uncle Buck will be nice to us.”

Dan chuckled. “He has always had a soft spot for you.”

“Oh yeah?” You quirked a brow.

“He was the one who helped me convince the team to offer you a contract. Was devastated when he thought you turned it down.” His voice was soft, fond. “But after I explained it was Christian, he said it made sense.”

There was a soft knock at the door and Dan kept his arms around you as the door opened. Zak walked in with a big friendly smile on his face. “Look at you two! About time!”

You laughed softly. “Thanks Zak. At least we’ve got your support.”

He patted Dan on the back and the pair of you separated so you could walk with Zak over to Redbull. The American man was just rambling away about the upcoming races - it was like it didn’t even matter to him that you two were together and you appreciated that. You didn’t want you and Dan dating to be a big deal.

You knew Christian would be a different story. As you entered the Redbull building with Dan and Zak - your team's eyes all fell on you and your now boyfriend. Whispers had quickly travelled around before you’d even returned to the office and it was clear that while most of them were happy for you, there were a couple who felt betrayed that you’d decided to date someone from McLaren. Boys that you’d rejected.

You were ushered into the office by your PR agent and the pair of you sat down at the conference table. Christian was stood with his back to you, looking out the window - his small form seemed tense.

“I won’t lie to you both.” He turned to face you both, narrowing his eyes a little. “I’m disappointed.”

“Sir, I-“

“Y/n, not only did you start dating someone without telling me, but it’s Dan? Are you serious? Do you know how that looks?”

“Christian, my friend” Zak spoke up. “They’re grown adults, they can do what they want. It’s not hurting anyone is it.”

“Well, Zak, you wouldn’t understand it because you’re not currently in a championship fight.” He huffed, like a petulant toddler. “I don’t need her to be distracted by a man on a different team.”

“Sir, my head is much clearer now. I’ve not been in a better space than this… I’m happy, I feel refreshed. Just because Dan is my boyfriend, doesn’t mean I’m not gonna fight to the death on track but I want this championship title just as much, if not more, than you.”

“I wouldn’t expect her to go soft on me just because we’re dating, Christian.” Dan spoke up, a strong hand on your thigh. “We’re both passionate about our jobs and when we’re behind the wheel we know what needs to be done.”

Horner tapped his foot, clearly agitated. It was hard to take him seriously but you knew he held your entire career in the palm of his hand.

“I’ll prove it to you. This isn’t going to change anything. My racing loyalty is still with you and the team. With the silly season coming up, I’d be an idiot to not try my hardest to keep my seat, Christian. I’ve fought so hard to be a part of this sport, I’m not going to throw it all away just because I’m in a relationship.”

“…well, I can't force you to do anything because you’re two consenting adults but you better prove to me that this-“ He gestured between you. “Is strictly off track or it will have consequences.”

“Yes sir.”

“Right, now, bugger off I’ve got more important shit to deal with.” He said, waving a dismissive hand at you both.

You and Dan stood up to leave but before the Australian man could usher you out of the room, you turned back to face your boss.

“Why didn’t you tell me McLaren wanted to offer me a contract?”

Christian’s head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes at Zak and Dan. “You told her?”

“I didn’t realise she didn’t know about it!” Dan exclaimed. “She had every right to make that decision herself.”

“I was just saving you the hassle, y/n. You had the choice between a team that has a chance of winning the championship or your best mate.” The Brit explained, stacking up some small piles of paperwork. “I knew you’d pick us because we’ve been a team for years and Dan left you for Renault.”

“I didn’t leave her for Renault.”

“No one made you leave us to go to a team that wouldn’t take her as well, Daniel.” Your boss spat, clearly still bitter the driver had moved on. “You could’ve stayed with us.”

“Not when you were treating me like shit.”

“Can’t have been that bad if you left her here!” He chuckled. “You’re better off at Redbull, y/n. I did you a favour.”

Dan took your hand and pulled you from the room before Christian could say anything else. You stumbled behind your boyfriend before you managed to catch your step and walk normally beside him.

“The fucking cheek of him. I did you a favour. You should’ve at least been given the choice.” He sighed.

You squeezed his hand gently. “What’s done is done, Danny. What matters is he didn’t try to insert himself in our business.”

“I think it’s because he knows I’d punch his lights out if he tried to break us up.” He turned and held your face in his hands, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Wanna stay here or go back to the hotel?”

“Hotel. Looks like rain.”

He leant in and pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss, one hand coming up to cup your jaw and the other laying on the small of your back. You were acutely aware of the press who’d snapped a photo of your intimate moment with your fellow driver but you didn’t care. You were truly happy for one of the first times in years.

“Let’s grab our stuff from my driver room and head over. You’re staying in my room, right?” He asked softly.

“Absolutely. Can’t get rid of me that easily.” You giggled softly. “Especially now you’re my boyfriend.”,

“Mhmm and you’re my girlfriend.” He hummed contently, kissing your forehead. “Now, let’s get out of here because those clouds look very angry.”

Oh if only he knew.

***************************************************

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