#Top Racer Collection

[sulan1809]

Top Racer Collection - Será que fez jus ao hype?!

Se você viveu a época de ouro do SNES, ou seja, os anos 1990, você teve ter experimentado um game de corridas chamado Top Gear, ou Top Racer, como é conhecido no Japão. Este game foi elaborado pela Gremlin Graphics em parceria com a Kemco. Infelizmente essa franchise não foi muito bem aclamada no mundo, tendo maior popularidade apenas no Brasil. Isso talvez aconteceu porque na década de 1990, muitas pessoas no Brasil eram fãs do automobilismo, e em particular, admiravam as proezas de Ayrton Senna, um piloto muito dedicado e ousado. Isso mesmo, Top Gear apenas conseguiu conquistar reconhecimento no Brasil. A partir dos anos 2000, a Kemco não pôde mais utilizar o nome Top Gear, pois esse nome agora era licenciado por um programa britânico sobre automóveis. Durante o tempo em que a franchise permaneceu dormente, se você quisesse mesmo jogar um game de corridas, teria que jogar um simulador realista, como é o caso de Gran Turismo, por exemplo. Agora a QUByte Interactive promete trazer a nostalgia para a realidade atual, com Top Gear Collection, ou melhor, Top Racer Collection, uma coletânea que reúne a trilogia clássica do SNES bem como outros conteúdos extras. Será que Top Racer Collection fez jus ao hype?! Bom, isso é o que vamos descobrir agora mesmo.

Top Racer Collection apresenta os três primeiros games da franchise, sendo eles, Top Gear(1992), Top Gear 2(1993) e Top Gear 3000(1995), que aqui foram reintitulados Top Racer, Top Racer 2 e Top Racer 3000, respectivamente. Top Racer Collection apresenta diversps modos, tais como Campaign Mode, Corrida Rápida, Time Trial, modo versus, galeria de artes, modo online, teste de som, etc. Um quarto game, TOP RACER CROSSROADS, apresenta quatro carros novos, baseados em veículos reais, e conteúdos exclusivos.

[hardcoregamer]

Review: Top Racer Collection

The Top Racer Collection features a lot of the same core gameplay across its four titles, but each of them excels at what it does. Those craving something new in the arcade racing realm who missed out on the series in its 16-bit heyday should check this out. 

Read more!

[xboxissues]

New Xbox Games for January 8th to January 12th 2024

[44gamez]

Top Racer Collection Review (Switch eShop)

Captured on Nintendo Swap (Handheld/Undocked) Racing recreation followers who’ve been round because the SNES period are prone to be accustomed to the Prime Gear sequence. Developed by Gremlin Graphics (later Gremlin Interactive) because the SNES equal of its Lotus video games on different consoles, it’s the closest Nintendo’s 16-bit system obtained to its personal model of Sega’s basic arcade recreation Out Run. Now Prime Gear and its sequel are again – although not by that identify – in Prime Racer Assortment and whereas their return will little question be a pleasure for the grizzled veterans who bear in mind it from again within the day, these discovering them for the primary time could also be higher suited to the extra trendy equivalents which maintain up a bit of higher. First issues first, there’s no point out of the Prime Gear identify right here anyplace. Presumably to keep away from points with the BBC and its Prime Gear TV present – in any case, copyright attorneys are much more trigger-happy today than they have been within the ‘90s – the three video games on provide right here as a substitute have their Japanese titles of Prime Racer, Prime Racer 2, and Prime Racer 3000. And sure, we all know there are literally 4 video games on this compilation however we’ll get to that.

Captured on Nintendo Swap (Handheld/Undocked) All three video games have an identical idea: choose a automotive, begin in the back of a grid of racers, and attempt to navigate your method by means of the ocean of automobiles to succeed in the entrance by the top of the ultimate lap. Longer tracks have you ever working out of gas, which is handled by pitting out or working over on-track components, relying on the sport. In case it wasn’t clear by its title, it’s Prime Gear 3000 – sorry, Prime Racer 3000 – which presents the most important adjustments, as a result of it ditches the fashionable places in favour of a futuristic setting with tracks set throughout 12 fictional planets and has you driving automobiles that go at speeds of as much as 330mph (however which nonetheless look suspiciously like automobiles from 1000 years earlier). That apart, although, when you’ve mastered one of many video games you don’t must undertake a wildly totally different set of abilities to grasp the others, since they’re fairly comparable. This new compilation will get across the lack of Prime Gear branding (to not point out the primary recreation’s annoyingly summary fundamental menu) by presenting its personal bespoke menu system which replaces these of the unique video games. You choose your marketing campaign, fast race, or time trial modes, choose a automotive, select your transmission, and enter your identify all by means of this new menu, and solely change to the emulator when the race is about to begin. It’s considerably jarring and never with out some oddly pointless loading screens at occasions, however it a minimum of works.

Captured on Nintendo Swap (Docked) What doesn’t work in the meanwhile, nevertheless, is the sport’s on-line mode. Though it’s attainable to create and be a part of rooms for on-line multiplayer races, neither possibility has proved profitable for us thus far and as such we haven’t been capable of take a look at a single on-line race. After all, this will likely change as soon as the sport is definitely launched, however we’re now seven years into the Swap’s life, and builders are nonetheless insistent on spending time and assets including on-line modes to video games that frankly don’t want them and aren’t assured to promote sufficient copies to make correct use of them. On condition that the video games use emulation, there are a couple of fundamental choices relating to display screen measurement and filters you’d normally count on from comparable compilations, however there are some points right here. The ‘Authentic’ measurement possibility, which multiplies the unique recreation’s display screen decision by an entire quantity to keep away from shimmering whereas scrolling, seems to be completely tiny when taking part in on handheld mode, that means the one sensible possibility there may be to make it match the display screen vertically (although fortunately there isn’t a lot shimmering to be discovered right here). The CRT filter can be a wierd one as a result of it provides a bizarre wobble impact to the image that appears extra such as you’re watching the sport on an outdated VHS tape than really taking part in it on an outdated TV.

Captured on Nintendo Swap (Docked) One other problem – albeit one which’s no fault of the compilation itself – is that each recreation on provide right here has a uneven body price. While you flip in your enhance and hit extraordinarily excessive speeds, the surroundings doesn’t actually fly previous you, it type of slideshows previous you. It may possibly make controlling these sections a bit of tough, however this was a difficulty with the unique video games, too, so it’s not just like the emulation is the issue – it’s merely correct to a fault. One side of blame that can be levelled on the compilation, nevertheless, is the declare that it options 4 video games. In addition to the three Prime Racer video games, it additionally consists of Prime Racer Crossroads, which writer QUByte has beforehand claimed is “model new”. Frankly, that is 661 horsepowers of nonsense. Crossroads is merely a ROM hack of the primary recreation, with the automotive sprites changed by 4 totally different ones from the Horizon Chase sequence. The tracks are an identical, the music is an identical, it’s the identical recreation. Which brings us to our fundamental suggestion. To be clear, this evaluate reads primarily adverse as a result of anybody accustomed to the unique video games will already know the enjoyment available there. They’re nonetheless good video games in their very own proper, and nothing right here adjustments that. When you purchase this compilation, you’ll have a enjoyable time with it. It’s simply that lots of the issues which were added – the odd menus, the pointless on-line mode, the subpar filter choices, the choice to place a pretend nostril and glasses on the primary recreation and faux it’s a brand new fourth one – are disappointments.

Captured on Nintendo Swap (Docked) When you’re a fan of the originals and simply need an excuse to play them in your Swap, that is nonetheless price a glance as a result of we are able to guarantee you that the gameplay itself hasn’t been messed with. The video games you really liked on the SNES are nonetheless the identical video games right here, and there is nonetheless a whole lot of fulfilling racing motion right here. Anybody else who doesn’t have these nostalgic ties with the sequence, nevertheless, would most likely be higher off shopping for Horizon Chase Turbo, which is the religious successor to the Prime Gear sequence. It prices the identical worth and presents precisely the identical type of gameplay, however the music (which was made by the identical composer) is a lot catchier, it runs a lot smoother, and it seems to be so significantly better.

Conclusion

Prime Racer Assortment is a stable compilation for followers of the Prime Gear trilogy on SNES, however the originals' decrease body price can actually have an effect on the motion at excessive speeds. Nostalgics will discover that the whole lot is accurately, and there is nonetheless loads of enjoyable available, however these with out emotional ties to the sequence will need to go for the newer, higher mannequin as a substitute and purchase Horizon Chase Turbo. Source link Read the full article

[idyllcy]

this is a drama. i am the drama.

word count: 10.4k

WARNINGS: mentions of SA, mentions of sex trafficking, mild violence (all r kinda glossed over but still warning), Nonexplicit smut

summary: your soul drowns Tim, but he finds comfort in it.

The city of Gotham is not phased by much.

From the drug trafficking in the docks to the human trafficking happening under everyone's nose, the average citizen doesn't really care. Though, arguably, they do mind when their sleep is disturbed by the sound of racing cars— something else that isn't necessarily new in Gotham. However, there had been news that the racers were steering off into the city at night, so Tim finds himself in civilian clothes, holding up a pass to access the venue that the racers were using, stepping in past the loud noises and people screaming. Ah, he made it in time.

He's surprised to find actual racing cars— cars that look like they could be in a grand prix.

From the seats, he meets eyes with a racer. He can't tell anything, but from posture and body frame, a woman. Now that he looks at it, all the racers seem to be female-presenting. He turns down the drink offered by one of the men, striking up a conversation instead, batting his lashes at the man, hoping to seduce him in some way. He wore too much clothing to be able to do so with his body, but it was still worth a shot. He hates dressing up like this anyway.

"So, what's a goody two shoes like you doing here?" The man smiles, sliding an arm around his shoulder.

"A friend gave me his pass because I said I'd never watched a Gotham street race." He bats his lashes. (Hopefully the fake lashes Stephanie glued don't fall off. God, did he hate dressing as Caroline)

"Really? Usually we place our bets on a racer." He hums, waving a guy over, dropping a twenty in a box. "I'd recommend you vote for Spitfire, she's an oldie and usually wins."

"Who are the others?" Tim slips a twenty from the back of his phone, blinking at the other names.

The man chuckles. "Lightwing is another good contender. She's been around forever. But also, her vision is spotty from an accident last time, so she's not as popular as before."

Tim nods slowly, staring at the other two names. "Who's Moonknight and Aquastar?"

"Moonknight is making her debut tonight, but her test run streaks were pretty bad because she doesn't have as big of a team as the rest of them." The man waves his hand. "You don't need to bet on her, pretty girl." He grins toothily. "Oh, and Aquastar is a visiting racer from a nearby city. We usually have more racers, but Cardinal got suspended for going off the race tracks and breaking into Gotham two weeks ago."

Now that he thinks about it, all of the names were practically knockoffs of the vigilantes and heroes who protected the cities. Although, he's surprised the street racing had ended up this big without any of the bats shutting it down. Someone must have a hand somewhere. He just wonders if it's Hood or B. It could be neither for all he knows.

"How does one race?" Tim blinks at one car in particular. It looks too much like a batmobile for comfort.

"You'd have to talk to the racers for that."

"Ey, Chris, are you hitting on newbies again?" A woman walks up the stairs, shoving him to the side playfully, tilting her head at Tim.

"Oh, come on, Spitty. You know I only do that so I can collect profits when you win."

"Arguably," She tilts her head at Tim, pausing. "You should bet on Moonknight."

"A-ah?"

"If she wins," Spitfire smiles, "then you collect all the profits. It's only a twenty, after all."

Tim frowns.

"But there's also a tradition for newbies to bet on newbies." She laughs. "You never know. That girl's got more speed in her than Cardinal. She just refuses to tell people."

"What's the cash prize?" Tim raises a brow.

"Driver gets ten percent of the bet money on top of the two million that WE pours into the track." She pauses.

"WE pours money into this?"

"We're not sure why, but they have been for a while now. The whole race track was from them." Spitfire sighs. "It's an old story, so it's not that surprising anymore."

Tim glances at the car again, pausing. Ah. This was where Bruce tested out his batmobile by using other people. No wonder he didn't push anyone to check the driving out. If Bruce was testing out all of his vehicles here, then there was no way he'd want it to be shut down. It would explain why he handed him an access card without having him get one. Tim glances around to look for seating, and Spitfire notices.

"You wanna sit in the grandstands?" She smiles. "My treat."

"Really?" Tim puts the money into Moonknight's box. The woman was right. It's only a twenty. Worst case, he loses the money. Though, he wonders what kind of a racer would have a leading champion telling him to vote for her. "Oh, is there a reason all the racers are girl?"

"We tried co-ed racing for a while." Spitfire holds her hand out for Tim, and he takes it. "But the men would get too aggressive and lead to unnecessary accidents on the track. Our goal is to test out cars for our sponsors before they're taken onto the field."

"Is that why there's a pass to get in?"

"Yeah." She hums, pulling the door open. "Come on in."

"Spitfire, favoring a newbie?!"

"Spitfire, who do you think is going to win!"

The woman turns her head, smile on her lips. "Me, obviously."

But it proves wrong when Tim meets eyes with the same woman from the first time.

You stare into his eyes, white racing suit snug on your body, a look in your eyes he recognizes. Though, the longer you look at him, the more you seem to read him— as if his entire past were exposed in front of you at a table. There is a sort of darkness to both your eyes and hair, the stare of a thousand souls. He breaks eye contact first, waving goodbye to Spitfire as she hops back to her position, final checkups of the cars in progress as Chris asks him if he wants a drink. Tim waves him down, but he mentions a can of Zesti would be fine. Chris barely makes it back in time for the announcements.

Tim catalogs the majority of the announcements in, checking for their voice on his phone, blinking when he finds a lack of match for it. He'd ask Chris, but the man is practically leaning over on the stand, eyes glittering as the cars prepare to race. He stands up, cracking open his soda, blinking when the four racers seem to fly off, and his eyes glance at the big screen, camera flying after the cars.

Moonknight goes from second to third, and Spitfire goes from third to first. He doesn't have much faith in his twenty bucks, but he wonders if the batmobile would really be helpful in a race like this. It didn't—

Moonknight goes from third to first at the final moment, boosting past Spitfire and racing to first place as she makes it into the second lap. Tim pauses while recalling the batmobile, and he remembers the change he had made just a week ago on the car, letting it accelerate faster than the other cars. Seeing his own creation in action hits something in him, blinking as she swerves.

"Oh, I might actually lose my money today." Chris laughs. "I didn't think she'd be able to do it."

"Who is Moonknight?"

"She's a completely new racer. She's called Moonknight because he sponsor gave her a car that looks eerily like a batmobile every time. Though, her car is in light grey." Chris points. "I'll hand you the pamphlet later."

"Thank you." Tim mumbles, watching as Spitfire races neck to neck with Moonknight. Tim wonders if it's going to be a tie. Though, he did add something else to the car. Maybe Bruce told you, maybe not. If she manages to find it, she could win. Though, he's more curious to know if rocket boosters were technically allowed in a race like this. Who knows.

You grimace in the car, pressing a couple of buttons as your fingers brush over something new. You wonder if it's the self-destruction button that Batman had told you not to touch. Yet, you shrug it off, clicking it anyway, slamming back into your seat as you speed past Spitfire, breaking past the finish line, steering with one hand as you try and stop the rockets on your car, clicking on the screen, grimacing. You'd rather not call Oracle. Last time you did, she tried pulling your social security number on you, only to find a lack of one.

Your heart races in your chest as you press the button again, the rockets only growing stronger, and you groan as you type in a code you had memorized from the Batcave, successfully shutting down the systems on the car, turning it back into a regular vehicle. You don't know who invented that line of code, but god were you thankful that you memorized it. The car eventually slows, and you drift next to the other racers, parking successfully. You step out of the car, leaning on the door as it closes, the blood in your body flushing your skin.

"Moon, are you alright?" Spitfire rushes next to you, hand on your bicep.

"I'm fine." You pull the helmet from your head, meeting eyes with Tim's again. You raise a brow, and you lower your voice to Spitfire. "That girl isn't a girl."

"Drag maybe?"

"No." You mumble, turning to shield your mouth from his eyes. "Undercover cop. Either that or they're a vigilante. They used Batman's card to get in."

"Ah." She frowns. "Are we safe?"

"I'll deal with it if he throws a fit." You stretch your neck, placing your helmet onto the top of your car. "Gotta submit a report later."

"I'm not looking forward to that." Lightwing groans. "Our next race is supposed to be motorbikes."

"Ewwww." Spitfire shudders. "I hate racing those."

"I hope they don't have rocket boosters like on my car today." You shudder.

"Alright, go get your cash prize, girlie." Spitfire smacks your back to send you walking to the podium.

You step over to the makeshift stage, taking the cheque from the announcer, blowing a kiss at the phones as you stare at the blank cheque. Two million was the max, but you were told you'd get to cash out five if you could win the race. You pause, though, when the girl you were staring at earlier makes her way out of the stands and walks over. Spitfire tries stopping her, but she seems to say something that has her quiet as she steps up the podium to meet you. You tilt your head at her.

Tim opens his mouth to speak before you cut him off.

"You know." You pause to wave the announcer off, hooking your arms under her knees to rest your chin on her chest. "You're real hot as a woman, but I'm sure you'd look better as a man."

Tim flushes as you press a kiss to the crown of his head, and you set him on the podium, lips pulled into a pretty smile. Your voice lowers as you rest your chin in the valley of his tits, blinking up at him. You jut out your bottom lip as Tim swallows thickly. Your fingers lace into his hair, nails digging into his scalp gently, blinking slowly, reading his emotions, his expressions, his everything. You look entranced, and Tim almost feels bad that he's here undercover and you're staring starry-eyed over someone who doesn't exist.

"What's your name, pretty girl?" You raise a brow at her, grinning.

"Caroline." He swallows again, heart racing in his chest. You're too attractive for your own good. Maybe you were using that against him. "Caroline Hill."

"Well, Carrie," You hum, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I think you're gorgeous. Care for a drink sometime?"

"A-as much as I would like to, I'm not into w-women." He stumbles. (A bold lie. He's never had a worse panic over a woman in his life.)

"Quite a shame." You mumble. "You're so pretty too..."

You step down the stage, holding the cheque up as the girls cheer with you.

Tim should really talk to Bruce about what the batmobile was doing in a street racing event.

Though, as Tim tries to run a background check on you, he finds nothing come up. Even in the private files of the batcomputer. Even on the card that gave him access, all the fingerprints were wiped clean. He finds practically nothing, not that it gets to him, he just looks harder. He practically lives in the cave now. He doesn't remember the last day he got regular sleep. He has nothing on you.

So, he shows up at the next race as himself this time. He enters with the same card, and this time, you find him first.

"So? You related to B?" You hand him a can of unopened zesti, and he raises a brow at you. You raise a brow back at him, pointing at his card. "Card. That's a B exclusive card."

"How so?"

"Sponsor card." You smile. "Since it's light grey, that means it's my sponsor. My sponsor is B."

Tim frowns. "Who are you?"

"My question first."

"He's an aquaintance. Now my question." He opens his can, pressing the drink to his lips.

"I'm a racer." You smile.

"I meant as a person." He clicks his tongue.

"Why don't you find out?" You bat your lashes at him prettily, hand pressed to his abdomen, leaning in to blink at him devilishly. "Or are you not into women too?"

Tim's heart races in his ears, swallowing as he tries his best to match your pace. "What does the media say?"

"Lots" You grin, pressing yourself closer to him, arms wrapped around his neck, your air mixed with his, lips pulled into a dangerous smirk. "But all I hear these days is how someone keeps trying to hack my personal information."

"Yeah?" He tilts his head, placing the can to the side.

"Mhm." You hum.

Tim smiles at you, dangerously, all while his mind is a jumbled mess. You had an effect on him that he dared not to pry further into, but god were you intoxicating — bad for his brain even. He finds himself leaning closer to you, all systems going off about how this was bad for him, but he doesn't care. Not when your perfume smells tantalizing and the only thing he wants to do is kiss you sick— make out with you until you're whimpering against his lips, knees giving out under you, and brain fuzzy with only him. His eyes darken with the thoughts, a smile on his face.

You remove your arms from him, tapping his shoulder twice with an innocent smile. "Thanks for giving me the last piece."

Tim raises a brow as you peel yourself from him, his mask in your fingers, smile not so pure anymore.

There was no way.

Tim grabs it back from you as you back up, both hands in the air, and as he shoves it into somewhere you can't touch, you hop over the stands, landing on the dirt with a thud. Tim frowns in frustration as you send a wink his way, starting final check-ups for the race. It's bikes today, and Tim recognizes all of the models. A copy of his own bike is in Spitfire's hand right now. Maybe this was how Bruce figured out whether or not his bike was safe to ride after his own customizations. Jason's bike is in another rider's hands, red helmet with black— presumably Cardinal, and Dick's bike is in Lightwing's hands. You have Bruce's bike still. It checks out now.

This was the testing ground for the vigilante vehicles in Gotham.

The fact that you had figured him out so quickly only meant that you had realized faster than everyone else.

But there had to be a reason that no one part of the team saw the similarities between their vehicles and the ones that the Gotham vigilantes used. There had to be a reason that only you would be crazy enough to figure it out just based on vehicle models. Maybe he could use the status card to talk to you all for a little. Too bad you were already checking the vehicle. He should have asked earlier— strange. It's not like him to be this disoriented.

You win the race.

It's obvious. B's bike was designed with the fastest engine possible, and in a race of pure speed, it would win. No matter how much Tim tinkered with his bike, he wasn't allowed to go faster than Bruce. The man had said it was too dangerous, and Tim could see why. The Batbike was a nightmare to steer at such high speeds. Though, he does wonder where everyone on the track gets their practice. There's never a peak of sound during the day on the track, and neither was there much noise at night when you weren't racing.

Tim does not dig the idea that he has to pull his money card out, but the more competitive part of him does wonder what it would look like to have you fold for him.

"A drink?" He leans over the railing, card held up, raising a brow at you.

You wave him off, handing your helmet to someone else, clicking your tongue.

"That's not the way to ask a pretty woman out on a date, boy." You raise a brow, lips pulled upwards in a grin. "Maybe ask better next time. Some of us have black cards too."

So Tim watches as you leave with the rest of the racers, his heart racing in his chest.

It takes ten more tries for Tim to trace from someone else to you.

He blinks at the woman on the screen, and he pauses to ponder. Perhaps.

However, all of his thoughts are thrown off when a command is called from behind him by Bruce with a new case. A file is handed to him, a file with a rather unoriginal name, and it makes Tim raise a brow. Surely it was a jest.

"I assure you, they are very much real." Bruce rolls his eyes, cowl peeled off, humming with a drink pressed to his lips.

"Is this related to the serial murder of rapists going around in Gotham?" He opens the file.

"Not just Gotham." Bruce hums. "Clark did a report on the serial murder of both registered and unregistered sex offenders in Metropolis as well. It has been a trend. Despite the vigilantism, it is still very much illegal to kill someone."

"I don't see too much of a problem with killing a rapist." Tim presses his coffee to his lips, scanning through the files Bruce hands him. The target seems rather clear. The killer does not regard anyone in the way, knocking everyone out and always only killing the rapist. A maneater. The name given to the murderer was maneater, as if it were some ploy. In some cases, the victims were found with their pants unzipped and an anti-rape condom stuck on them, writhing in pain as they were almost always found dead with poison in their system.

Those who suffered more gruesome deaths... either found castrated with their genitals lying not too far away, or a hole where their heart was supposed to be, the organ missing. It reminds him almost of Heartless, but... that is not the case. This is a vigilante no different from them... just less sparing and guaranteed murder. Now, does Tim solve the case or let the vigilante free...

He does not know what possesses him to ask you of all people, but your response does not help much.

"Moonknight." Tim hums, adjusting his glasses as he puts them on. "May I pick at your brain?"

"Is this about the serial murders?" You wipe the helmet in your hand, cheque tucked safely into your wallet.

Tim nods. "Thoughts?"

"I feel like the murderer's doing us ladies a favor." You shrug. "Think about it."

"I know, but murder is a little..."

"Little hypocritical of you, you know?" You raise a brow. "Must I name your war crimes?"

"No." Tim hums. "Perhaps I should do some digging anyway."

"Wouldn't hurt to have it on file in case you do need it one day." You eye one of the newer men on the track, grinning at Spitfire as she greets him. "Hm?"

Tim's eyes trail up to Spitfire.

Similar build. His glasses indicate the same.

"It's not any of my girls." You crack open the can of soder. "I promise they're clean. B runs background checks on all of us."

Tim mulls over your words.

Scary.

Yet, he visits you anyway, money piling in his back pocket as you win round after round, small talk rolling off your lips in a sort of practiced way, smile inviting as you turn down his request to grab a drink again, humming quietly as Tim's eyes trail down to the small of your back, brow raised as he notices your shorts peeking out past your pants.

"What does it take for a date with you?"

"Maybe not being part of law enforcement." You hum. "Legal or not."

"Why? Worried I'll turn you in?"

"No..." You trail off, chewing your top lip as you turn your head at Lightwing. "Well, if you save Lightwing from some trouble, I'll consider."

"What's wrong?"

"You see the man talking to her?"

Tim raises a brow and spots another group of men not too far off. "Bingo."

You wink in her direction, and Tim hums.

"Hey big fella. Having fun so far?"

You watch as Tim tears the man apart, Lightwing leaving at one point to stand next to you.

"Really, I don't know what you see in that man."

"Not much." You purse your lips, smiling. "Something tells me he's the one."

"I'm willing to bet that he is not." She mumbles.

Yet, as Tim barely lifts a finger to piss the man off, you grin.

"Oh, he's definitely the one."

Tim runs the information, stalking down the final member of your racing team, matching the majority of information to the final member, brow raised when he realizes that Cardinal was not part of B's files either, hunting the woman down as he searches for her current location, and it makes Tim's stomach churn uncomfortably when he realizes how eerily similar the racer is to the described criminal. The person who was dubbed Cardinal had been face-matched to someone who had entered Metropolis just a little bit before the serial murders. It made Tim nauseous.

"Got any leads?"

"Might be one of the previous racers." Tim grimaces. "Of the race tracks."

"Cardinal? I assure you it is not her."

"Really? There had been rumors—"

"It is not." Bruce mumbles. "You know who Cardinal is. It is not her. They may have similar builds, but it is not her."

"Who is Cardinal?"

"You'll figure it out soon enough."

Bruce's evasion of his question does not help the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

You end up with Tim on the date, hair ruffled as he picks you up in his bike, hand held out to you as you take it, humming. It's supposed to be simple. Though, you suppose simple for a Wayne is impossible to determine. You never know what to expect from him. Though, when he pulls you to the local diner, you find it impossible to not know he's the one. It's really too simple.

"Would you tell me about Cardinal?" Tim finally asks you proper questions once the two of you finish ordering.

"Do you think she's the one?" You raise a brow.

"You said your girls are innocent."

"The ones I currently race with." You hum, reaching for the bread on the table.

"And Cardinal?"

"I don't know much about her. She didn't talk much."

"But she was aggressive, no?"

"No." You hum. "She drove into Gotham because she saw something. She also raced her own bike. No one knows who she is."

Tim connects something in his mind, and it sends him back to step one.

"Would you be able to help if I gave you the file?"

"Isn't it just what's available online?"

"One final thing. The killer in Metropolis might be the same person." Tim mumbles. "Thank you."

The food is presented before the two of you, and you stab into your pasta. "I don't think so. Did you track anyone else that entered and exited Metropolis that was a Gothamite?"

Tim shakes his head. "I find it strange."

"Perhaps magic?"

"Not impossible." Tim mumbles. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Tinker." You hum.

"With your bike?"

"No. That's B's property. I tend to tinker with smaller things. It's always fun to build a PC from scratch."

"Ah, you're quite handy with tech." Tim hums, blowing on his pasta. "Anything else?"

"I like watching detective shows." You pause to think. "And racing. I think that's about it. How 'bout you, boy wonder?"

"That's my brother." He laughs dryly.

Tim finds that it's intriguing to talk to you. You know everything that he does, and it seems you know much more than what you let him in on. Dare he say it, perhaps he's met his match.

Tim sends you home and starts patrol. Gotham had become eerily quiet since the murderer had been on the loose.

Though, he has a knack for saying things too early.

A man dies the same day, and B finds his way there with Tim, the two of them sweeping down and kicking the man down, a woman shaking as Tim shields her, holding his cape out, making sure to not look at the way her clothes are ripped up and she's shaking with an intensity unknown to him. He can feel the vibrations of her skin through his cape. The fear is easily contagious had he not known.

"B?"

"Dead. The poison spread too fast."

The woman doesn't look like she was aware.

"Did you buy the product?" Tim raises a brow, eyes scanning her face for any changes in emotion, and she shakes her head.

"I... a-a friend got me o-one on because—" She gasps, shoulders trembling still. "I-it saved her life."

"Do you know where she bought it?"

The woman shakes her head. "Th-they were giving them out on the streets a while back. It's been m-months."

"May we take one back?"

B shakes his head. "Gordon is coming. We will decide then. Oracle?"

Oracle has no intel either, and Tim wonders just how far this murderer is willing to go. If he just let them kill all the rapists in Gotham, then it would result in a number of the population as gone. If he checked them, perhaps the offenders in Gotham would assume they are protected by B — which truly could not be further from the truth.

"Where are you living? I will take you back." Tim catches a figure in the corner of his eye.

"B."

The man shakes his head.

"I-I'll be fine." She mumbles. "May I borrow a... clothes?"

B nods, and Tim hands the woman to him as he takes a good look at the man on the ground.

Familiar. He looks familiar.

The scan from his mask indicates the same. The man who had been talking to Spitfire at the tracks. It was the man who had been talking to her. Some clicks in the back of Tim's mind, his fingers pressing to the silicone, pressing the dirt and grime to the back of his glove to check for DNA.

Just the shaking woman.

"B, I need one of them." He speaks firmer this time. "There has to be some unidentified DNA on one of them."

"There are in one of the files on our computer. It was sent this afternoon." B hums. "The police are arriving. Come on."

Tim doesn't need to be told twice, yet he lingers, eyes trailing on the woman as he waits.

One of the policemen is an unregistered sex offender.

He clicks on his mask as he zooms in, a dark figure flying out of the alleyway at the man, and Tim watches as a claw digs into the man's genitals, ripping off with a sound that shakes the walls, followed by a guttural scream. The policemen shoot at the figure, but they don't react, only retreating back into the walls, seemingly unhurt by the bullets.

"Oracle, did you catch that?"

"No face was detected."

"How about figure?"

"Non-human." Oracle mumbles. "I can't identify anything."

"Tsk." Tim clicks his tongue.

"Though, it has to be a shadow ability. Perhaps something adjacent to it. They're gone, right?"

Tim hums into the mic. "Affirmative."

Tim ignores the way the shadow shapes weirdly underneath his feet.

"You can come out." He taps the corner of his mask for reinforcements, taking a step back into the moon as the shadow forms, a smile of white forming into a human.

"Can you—"

"Neither. All indications of sex are missing."

"Oh..."

Their voice is nothing short of horrifying to him.

"I caught a bird." It grins, and as Tim takes a step back, he finds that his other foot has a shadow warping around his ankle.

"Who are you?"

"We are the night." It sings. "We are the darkness..."

Tim knows what's next.

"We are... vengeance."

"That's rather cringe, don't ya think?" Tim raises a brow.

A batarang flies from behind him, and the shadows only create a hole for the weapon to fly through. The shadow splits into two people, and Tim smiles.

"Gotcha."

"Ah ah," The one on the left shakes its hand. "We were promised... freedom."

"Only where you belong." Batman shines a flashlight at the creature, and Tim watches as it retreats back into the shadows, his ankle free. "And you. Next time, just shine the flashlight."

"Are they weak?" Tim raises a brow. "Just to light?"

"It stuns." Batman nods.

"Go track the leftovers on your ankle back in the cave."

"Will do." Tim pauses before he goes. "Is it an alien?"

"No. Something worse."

Tim does NOT know what could be worse than an alien. (He lies. He does.)

The DNA tracks too many women to count. One shows up and then the next, and eventually, Tim has at least twenty women pulled up on his screen, all pronounced dead after being found used and discarded. It is horrifying. Tim may not understand just how terrifying it is to be a woman, but as he finds children, he seems to understand just how disgusting this is. Girl after girl, woman after woman, every last one of them were used and discarded bare for the world to see, photographed and made a case study out of — all who met their unfortunate end and their rapists never see the end of their life the same way they did.

It is disgusting, but something else is discovered.

He does not remember if it is something new, but it seems strange. It is not a shadow, but rather a composition of human souls forced to merge into an unrecognizable shape. It is science, not an alien, and Tim understands why it is worse. It is an unfortunate victim and not an alien. It is someone who had been forced to change into something unloveable. He wonders if the souls of the unfortunate make up the shadows.

Ah. If they are shadows...

Tim turns around as the shadows form a human again, shorter than he is, apple of its cheeks soft and gentle. A girl. It is a girl this time; not a woman.

"Are you a victim?"

It does not answer him.

"Tim? Tim, do you hear me? Red!"

"It has not attacked yet." Tim answers. "How many of you are there?"

The child does not respond, holding up one finger, and then two, and three, and eventually there are too many fingers sticking out of the hand that Tim had lost count.

"Many."

"What's the deal?"

"I matched the DNA." Tim swallows. "I won't hurt you, but please—"

The shadow dissolves, and Tim lets out a breath, staring at the faces plastered across the screen of the Batcave.

"Tim?"

"Oracle." His voice goes quiet. "They are all victims of... The computer just keeps going."

Eventually, B returns, staring at the wall of faces Tim left, finding the man in his room, glasses on as he stares at his PC, case file after case file being read, news article after news article. There is more than one soul occupying the shadows, and Tim reads one after the other of how they were murdered. Stabbed, strangled, shot, mangled, burned. None of the souls were able to escape death at the hands of their rapist. It was sickening.

"It is not a human." Tim speaks, staring at Bruce at the door. "We can not arrest it."

"Is it humanoid?"

"No. It is a shadow of vengeance."

"There has to be a way to stop it from collecting more souls."

Tim closes his eyes, brows furrowed as he sighs.

"And if I do not want to?"

"Tim."

"I know." He mumbles, exhaustion written all over his face. "How will we destroy the remaining souls?"

"How many women were identified?"

"There are currently twenty seven." Tim mumbles. "There may be even less if more of the men die."

"The vengeance of a ghost." Bruce mumbles. "Just find a way to stop the addition of souls. Surely, someone is collecting souls and adding them."

Tim finally closes his eyes when the sun starts peeking over the horizon.

"Sorry." Tim shows up to your meetup place, eyebags extra bad, and you raise a brow at him.

"Something up?"

"What would you do if someone was collecting the souls of the victims of rape and kill and turning them into a shadow of some sort to let them have vengeance on their rapist?"

"Wow, what a loaded question." You mumble.

"Thoughts?" Tim closes his eyes to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Feel free to ignore it if not—"

"I mean... it makes sense." You hum. "Is it scientifically immoral? Yes. Is it in some way morally correct? Perhaps. Their lives were taken and their souls haunt the earth because they are still held down by things they could not resolve while they were alive. Perhaps to the living, they are a monster, but to the dead? to the dead, they are a savior."

Tim pauses to think. "Should the person be punished?"

"Under the law? Sure."

"How about according to yourself?"

"No." You mumble. "If I was raped like that, I would love to ruin the life of the man who ruined mine. I heard a police officer got his dick ripped off. Is he still alive?"

"Alive." Tim nods. "Vitals are stable, but he can no longer procreate... obviously."

"Deserved, maybe. I heard he got off with only two months of jail time after the initial trial."

Tim does not answer, pausing to mull over the case.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." You stand up, stretching your legs. "Shall we get something to eat?"

"You have food by here?"

"No, but since you brought your bike, I can take us somewhere."

"It better not be the diner from last time."

It is NOT the diner from last time

Instead, Tim finds himself seated outside of a Batburger place, thanking you as you hand him his order, clear view of the alleyway.

"This place is a little..."

"It's where a lot of drug trades happen." You hum, staring at the alleyway behind him. "Also where a lot of sex trafficking occurs."

"Ah, right." He mumbles. "Red Hood manages that, no?"

"Not as much." You bite into the burger, humming happily. "Sorry if this wasn't what you were expecting."

"I think the burgers and shake could fix me."

You raise a brow.

"As much as it can try, of course."

"Nah, I have those days too." You hum. "Did you find much on the souls?"

"I just wonder if they are decreasing after extracting revenge on their former rapist." Tim mumbles.

"I heard somewhere they started off in the fifties." You hum, continuing with your burger.

"...fifties? Where did you even hear that?"

"Rumor gets around quickest at the racetrack." You mumble. "Cardinal kept closely with the news. Apparently the figure was as large as a human at one point."

"Is twenty souls not enough to form a full grown woman?"

"Perhaps it picks a child for other reasons." You reach for a fry. "Am I being of much help, mister detective?"

"Somewhat." Tim pauses when he hears rustling behind him. "...May I?"

"Careful, they carry stun guns."

Tim nods, leaving you alone, and you click on your phone as you watch Red Robin swing in, kicking and freeing the poor girl, handing her off to the police as you stare at the two men knocked out. Tim had overestimated just one thing.

From behind, a spike of darkness pieces through the men's hearts, killing them on the spot as Tim holds a hand over the eyes of the woman.

Dead. The two men are dead.

The shadow forms behind them, three young women who look no older than the one that Tim is covering the eyes of.

"How many of you are left?"

This time, the shadow forms a 24.

The number is going down.

So, Tim reports the findings to Bruce, changing out of his suit to get back to you, nodding as he sits down and sighs.

"Sorry, stomach died."

"Nah, don't worry about it." You sip on your shake, humming. "Duty calls."

"Are you racing sometime soon?"

"I think B's trying to have us race less lately." You hum. "I won't be racing for some time. The only reason we raced so often a while back was because there were so many upgrades being implemented."

"So you have more free time?"

"Yeah." You hum. "I was thinking of traveling."

"Where to?"

Tim knows something you don't. The gentle taps of your painted nails omit some eerie sense of death, and it seems that no matter how much Tim likes you and feels fine around you, it is impossible to ignore that eerie sense of death. It reminds him of the first time he met you, stare of a thousand souls. Yet, it seems that...

"Staring?"

"You're rather pretty." He hums, pressing his napkin to his cheeks. "Is it not normal to stare a little?"

"Oh, look at you and your smooth words." You hum.

"I mean them." Tim stares at you.

You only give him a weak look.

You don't seem to believe Tim when he says you're everything.

And maybe at some point in time, Tim had realized that your words swayed him harder than they need to. He does not know when he had ended up so deep with his fingers and hands stained with a passion for you, but as it drags him under, he finds that it's fine. Maybe you were just destined for him in some way. If he would be dragged under, then he would simply find a way to clear it out. He enjoys the sensation of drowning in you. Maybe he is just weak for you.

"Do you love me?" You tilt your head, milkshake straw on your lips as Tim sorts through his files.

Tim stares at you, pushing his glasses up. "Why?"

"Curious." You hum. "You've brought me to your place, after all. Isn't this the nice little boat you got with your boyfriend? I remember the media going insane."

"Perhaps." Tim mumbles. "I brought you here to help me with the case, though. I don't think love is the right word for what we feel towards each other right now."

"Mm." You nod slowly, picking up some papers. "The number went down?"

"Yes. The two men who were killed resulted in three less entities in the shadow." Tim mumbles. "I just wonder if the number is going to increase."

"You wouldn't want it to, huh?" You hum.

"Prefferably no." Tim pauses. "Though, I suppose if the entity is acting on its own, then I can not do much to stop it. Someone is letting the souls merge into the shadows."

"If it's just cells, shouldn't it be the act of a human? That must mean they have some sort of way of accessing the victims' bodies."

"That would be the case, but a further search indicated that they were not picking up the cells, but rather just souls. I don't know when we got an upgrade to be able to locate souls, but—"

"It was probably when you tried cloning your best friend." You don't bother letting him finish the sentence.

Your statement freaks Tim out.

"H-how the hell do you know?!"

"B." You puff out your cheeks, continuing with reading the file.

B does NOT have that information open to just anyone to access.

Yet, Tim shuts his mouth, continuing with the file, taking the chance to seal your fingerprint. He runs the match while you continue checking, and he ends up in a dead end again. You do not exist in the database. Your fingerprint is not a real person. Surely there was a chance that you were not quite human either.

"Just how cautious are you?"

"Very." You hum. "My fingerprint won't show up."

"What gives you the boldness to say that?"

"A gamble." You hum. "I race for B. Surely, he would not do something as cruel as that."

"He is consistently paranoid."

"That does not matter." You click your tongue. "He could not hold me down if he tried."

Tim senses that there is a certain level of untruth to your words, but he can not say just what it is.

Three days later, four more men are found dead by the docks. Tim checks them with the police, Oracle's voice in his ear as he observes them. All three have had their hearts pierced through, a gaping hole left behind. Tim looks to the side at the shadows brewing beneath the water, and he observes that the number shown is four less than before.

"These men have to be part of an organization."

"They are." Oracle notes. "Human trafficking. These are the men who are part of a human trafficking specifically for sex workers."

"So... rapists."

"Yes."

"Did we ever get a number on them?"

"No."

Tim nods at the police as they arrive, grappling away.

Maybe he's committing a sin by letting the shadow get away with the murders. It would be impossible to hold them down, but he wonders if he should ever shine a light on them when they kill.

Back at the cave, the young girl emerges again, smiling at Tim as he raises a brow.

"What?"

"Twenty." The voice speaks, much younger this time.

"Are you all children?"

The widening of the smile indicates a yes.

"How old were you?" He holds his hand out for the shadow.

His question goes ignored, the shadow disappearing as B returns to the cave.

"The number of shadows decreased again." Tim stares at B as he undresses.

"How do you know the shadows aren't lying?"

"Here." Tim shows B the newest scan of the souls, and the number has shrunk.

"How did you scan it?"

"I do not know. We hadn't been able to scan based on soul previously."

Bruce clicks on the computer, eyes focusing on the application, taking over as Tim sits to the side. He looks further, digging into the code as he pauses and points at a line.

"Moonknight."

"The racer?"

Bruce reads the code, and Tim follows, pausing.

"She's a computer system?"

"No, but you probably scanned some system in when you ran her through the system the first time."

"Just what is she?"

"I don't ask questions, and neither does she. Just a worker."

"Alright." Tim mumbles. But the issue was you do ask questions. You ask plenty of questions and each one brings you closer than the last. He had already lost his identity to you because of your charm. Perhaps Bruce was not far off. Though, if Tim could not find you, then Bruce probably could not either.

The next time he meets up with you, you finally let him into your apartment.

"Oh, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you love me." Tim hums. "What brings you to invite me here?"

"No, I didn't feel like going out today." You shut the door behind him. "Pizza's on the counter."

"Where are the others?"

"Racing." You hum.

"I thought you said there weren't any races?"

Tim finds that you're a liar.

Somewhere down in the place he's been pulled to, he finds that there is endless amounts of darkness, something brooding behind your soul as you talk to him, smile on your face. You called him the one, but if you were the one, he wouldn't feel so turbulent. Shaking waters. The water he's been pulled under is unmoving and serene, only in the middle of the sea, making the peace eerie rather than soothing. Rather than the liquid moving, he finds that he's spinning further and further down.

"I'm not racing for the time being." You hum. "The others are racing with their own bikes."

"Do you not own one?"

You shake your head. "I prefer other forms of transportation."

Tim raises a brow but doesn't question it.

Even when the two of you are tangled under your sheets and he listens to your heartbeat, the sense of uneasiness doesn't leave. You are too perfect. Even if you were to drag him down with you, he would only know how to hold onto you and not swim. Maybe this is his end. Unless you free him, he fears he will be stuck with you forever. Drawn to the beating of your heart, Tim is stuck being in love with you for the rest of his life. If you would drag him into the depths of your world and ruin his life, then so be it. As long as neither of you cross the line, neither of you would be hurt.

"Would you like to race?"

You raise a brow at Tim.

"Once in a lifetime." He offers.

"On the track?"

"We can race during the day." He hums.

"Not a day person."

"Then at sunrise."

You pause to think about it.

"If that's what you want."

"You make it sound like it's something I want to do." Tim whispers, chin resting on your chest as it rises and falls.

"Is it not?" You run your fingers through his hair, vibrations of your voice making him purr.

When Tim wakes in the morning, Oracle sends him a news article. Ten men found dead at the docks. Ten men were killed, and Tim can only wonder how many of the shadows found peace from their deaths. Though, as your fingers scratch at his scalp again, he could worry about it later. He'd rather not stir up deep waters.

"Ten died?"

"Mhm." Tim closes his eyes, mumbling. "Ten men."

"From the same organization?"

Tim is too tired to consider how you would know all the men are from the same organization when it has not been disclosed to the public.

"You seem to know much more than you let on."

"Of course I do." You hum. "But I won't race you until you find out."

"Then give me a month." He mumbles, eyes closing as he drifts back to sleep. You're warm, and for the first time in a while, he gets some rest.

The next race Tim goes to, he notices Spitfire and Lightwing are missing.

You tilt your head at Tim from the track, waving as he waves back, lips curled upwards in a gentle smile.

He refuses to meet the truth.

There is some sense of security that lies in playing stupid, eyes closed and fingers reaching out into a void of nothingness, knowing that as long as he did not know, he would be safe. Yet, there is always the nagging in the back of his mind, uncertain about his future, uncertain about what would happen if he continued to play dumb. He knows he'll get called out for it by Steph soon, but it really... he was only a fool in love. He can not do something so terrible to his heart.

Even as you bring back the trophy and greet Tim with a thrashing kiss against his lips, breath hot against his as he tries to ignore the truth of the world beneath his feet embedded into the shadows, he knows that he can only play stupid for so long. Soon, this racetrack will become empty, and one day, you too will leave him for the world that he refuses to uncover for his own safety. He loves you, but he can only do so much when he's young and stupid.

"Can I take you back to mine?" Tim whispers, eyes begging quietly as you lick your lips, helmet in your hand as you confirm with a kiss.

The gentle rocking of Tim's place is peaceful in the Gotham waters, port comfortable as he pushes back all of his knowledge. It is a curse to be wise, yet Tim finds that there is nothing he can do when he just refuses to. He would choose you even if it meant laying what he had known before down. It pains him to know that he should not, and you would not let him, but he is foolish and young, eyes gentle as he drinks up the way you lay beneath him, the moon coating you in a lovely white as he furrows his brows to forget about it all.

Your skin is soft against Tim's hands, plush of your waist filling the spaces between his fingers as you stretch your arms above your head, eyes half-lidded as he pleases you — himself. It makes no difference. Turbulent waters have long become the place where he finds his rest, eyes half-lidded as he listens to the way you breathe, both beneath him and in the dead of the night. Life becomes slightly more bearable with you around, exhaustion no longer as suffocating as he's used to. Perhaps he loves you or such. Perhaps he does not. Most certainly, he knows he cares.

In the afterglow of sweat and skin, Tim finds that you are no different from him.

"How many of them are left?"

Tim stares outside the window, recalling the last murder in Gotham.

"They're almost gone."

"That's good."

You close your eyes, lashes brushing Tim's neck as you rest your neck over his arm.

"When will we race?"

"I told you. When you find out."

"Find what, exactly?"

You do not answer, closing your eyes and succumbing to exhaustion instead.

Ultimately, Tim knows.

He knows what he's to look for, and he knows just what you might be. It scares him that you might have lied to him for so long, the shadows and souls lurking beneath the surface of the water finally snaking around his ankle and pulling. The big screen in the Batcave is of no help either, only a single person with an obscured soul, and Tim knows deep down that it is yours. You are a victim of the same organization, an amalgamation of vengeful souls all combined together for the sole purpose of seeking vengeance.

Tim stares at the shadow forming behind him, digits dropping by the day as he reports to Bruce about just what was happening in Gotham. The moral code to prevent murder is strong, but the understanding that a few lives of a few criminals for the cost of a safer Gotham was not a world-ending trade-off. Tim understands that much, at the very least. He knows Bruce does too. In a world where neither of them have to work against human trafficking as hard as previously, Tim finds that the waters are both comforting and vicious. He can not be touched in the warmth of your skin, but others will die from the toxin that he is immune to.

So, as Tim crosses off the final ones in the list of souls, he texts to let you know that the organization has been wiped, asking you which sunrise would work best for you.

You refuse to pick a time during the day because you are afraid of being burnt.

You do not exist in the database because you are not quite human.

You exist because you are someone's hatred and memories, manifesting in the form of the shadows and risking a life you do not have in order to see what is worth living for, vehicles meaning nothing to you as you speed through the racetrack at night, only Aquastar left next to you as she too disappears into the shadows after all the guests leave. There are barely any guests now that Tim looks. Perhaps more than half of them had been tired souls, begging for some sort of help, seeking refuge in the way you would risk your life for some sort of power above the law.

You are home to the souls, regardless of whether they are alive or dead. If someone seeks death, they reach for your arms, holding their hands around your shoulders as you stare past their skin, into the depths of the darkness beyond — something Tim is terrified of touching, Yet, with the feeling of your skin memorized between his fingers, he knows why people go to you to look for something.

You are so living yet so dead.

There is comfort only you can provide.

You meet Tim at the racetrack, sitting on your bike as Tim drives in past the gates. The darkness in your soul has grown lighter. Something has changed from when he first met you. You are still so lovely in his eyes, yet it seems that you can not be together in a case like this. It is a shame. At least he gets to race you, popping off his helmet as he notices how empty the stands are compared to when you used to race. The end of your need in Gotham has arrived, and the end of your services to WE has ended as well. There will be no more of you one day in the future, and Tim knows that one day, he too will be cursed to forget everything about you.

The people are gone.

The racers are gone.

And perhaps after this race, you will be too.

You enable the speaker, fingers clicking on the screen at the podium, giving the two of you a twenty-minute warmup.

Tim wonders just how fast he can go. He watches you from the side as you warm up your bike and drive, speeding around the track with practice that can only come from muscle memory. Yet, he drives around the track and gradually speeds up, trying to get a hand on how to race around. Tim finds that he's a little rusty, making several more rounds around the track as you sit on the side, clicking on your phone and scrolling through. Tim does not know how to bring it up.

"What does the winner get?" You look up from your phone, hopping on your bike as you wait for the countdown.

"Whatever the winner wishes."

"That's quite the bet." You hum, staring up at the light as Tim gets ready.

"Of course."

You start your bike, speeding past Tim as the light shows green, Tim tight behind you as he catches up to you. You wonder and think, leaning to the side as the bike follows, letting Tim pass you as you trail behind him. Tim finishes the first lap relatively quickly, and he realizes that you've fallen back a significant amount. He's unsure whether or not to speed up, but as he finishes his second lap, he finds that you're still far behind.

You cut him from the left, successfully stopping Tim from hitting a wall.

Tim speeds up to chase after you, wondering when you had the time to cut him off.

Yet, the end is evident, your bike parked at the end after your third lap, a grin on your face as he stares at you.

The souls are gone, and you look so, so lonely.

The lights shut as the two of you sit by the podium, tablet in your hand as you kick your legs, and you finally speak up.

"I know you found out."

Tim grimaces. "...why?"

You stare at Tim, peeling back your jacket, throwing it at him as he stares at you, watching as your eyes turn pitch black, shadows forming underneath your skin and turning the entire podium dark, some sort of ancient power creeping up your hands to your forearms, darkness evident in every blink at him, lips curled up into an apologetic smile, and Tim feels the water surrounding him drain all at once. If he would not leave you, then you would leave him. You would force him out of the comfort of your waters, knowing that it would drown him one day.

"The shadow moves with you." Tim stares at you, swallowing thickly. "There is only one victim left. We both know who it is."

You stare at Tim, lips curling upwards as he remembers why your smile started looking so familiar at one point.

"You are the last." Tim picks his words carefully. "Are you a shadow?"

"No. Just a medium. I am very much alive." You smile.

"Who are you waiting to kill?"

"No one." You hum. "I am alive because I must hold onto the shadows for the next ones seeking vengeance."

"You are the source."

You ignore him.

"Are you human?"

You blink at him again, ignoring him once more. "Luckily, it seems the victims have lessened lately."

"Why had there been so many at once?"

"There was an organization." You rock on your heels, lips curled upwards. "Everyone in the organization has been wiped. No fret. They alone resulted in over fifty deaths of women after they reached the age threshold."

"The youngest was ten."

"Yes."

"And the oldest?"

"Most of them were killed once they turned 21." You hum. "Occasionally, if someone looked young enough, they would be killed later, but the majority of them were killed at 21."

"How many souls were there initially?"

"Well over a thousand." You hum.

"And only you are left."

"Yes."

"Why play savior?"

"Why not?" You grin. "I have done nothing but host the poor souls. That does not warrant for my arrest."

Tim knows there is an argument against it, but he does not think too hard.

"Next time a soul finds you, notify me. Send me an invite to your race."

"You know, Tim." You hum. "B no longer needs me."

Ah.

"Will you be gone?"

"Very much so."

"To where?"

You do not tell him.

"Write to me." He speaks again.

You shake your head.

"I can not."

"Why not?"

"Send me some flowers when you see me on the news. That is my wish."

Tim tries to not think too much about your final words to him. You left the next morning, morphed shadows in the city leaving with you, and Tim finds that soon, almost everyone forgets you had ever existed. You had come and gone, shadow of death leaving with you, but he finds that occasionally on the news, he hears word about a new racer, gender unidentifiable, face consistently hidden, only known by their speed. You have become a criminal under the law, racing between the crevices of cities, fake trophy after fake trophy taken home, death following wherever you went, sex trafficking decreasing whenever you rested at night.

Tim tries not to follow you all that much, but when you show up on camera on accident, your home is raided and you are killed on sight by the same men who had killed so many others.

It hurts Tim in the head, eyes closed as he tries his best to not think too much about your death and how you had known all this time, but it would forever haunt him. He still remembers the way the waves would rock gently underneath the moonlight when he was engulfed by you, eyes always tired but comfort always found, knowing that you would be his rest when he needed it. So, for him to see you dead on the news, he finds that perhaps he was just cursed to not be able to hold onto you — that he was destined to be stuck in place and watch as you died because you had made a minor mistake. A mistake that would not have cost his life, but cost yours instead.

Yet, he honors your promise, white chrysanthemums placed at your grave as he holds onto the umbrella, humming quietly. The rain splatters gently against the plastic, quiet drumming calming him as he stares at the carving on the grave. The media had reported this was your place of burial, though Tim did not know if it really was you. He could have only assumed off of the information given, matching your age slightly, and he wonders if there is some sort of universe out there where he would be able to just stay with you.

"Here to see her too?" A masked woman steps next to Tim.

"Yes. I promised I would send flowers once she showed up on the news."

"How lovely of you." The woman hums, placing down a blue lotus.

"Did... you know her?"

"I knew her quite well."

Tim stares down at his flowers, finally looking up at the woman.

"It's such a shame, huh? That she would die to the very organization that she had been working to take care of."

"Well, perhaps she had just understood what it meant to live when she died." You turn to Tim, pulling down your mask as you wait for it to register in his head. "What do you think, Ca—"

You don't get to finish your words before Tim wraps his arms around you with closed eyes.

"I love you too, boy wonder."

[wisteriagoesvroom]

happy "breaching the top 10 f1 rpf pairings on ao3" day to landoscar nation 🎂 because it's all about.... two people that are so much the same yet so different. australia vs the uk. oscar's cool collected calm versus lando's ricocheting personality. twitch streams and side hustles and multiple endeavors vs singlemindedness of racing. purity of craft vs embracing everything life throws at you and trusting that it'll all work out. the rivalry that isn't (well it is, but not really). pushing each other to be better. making heart eyes in a taylor swift video, reaching out to your teammate in silverstone after surviving a media maelstrom and him being pleased and stepping closer because he's been given permission to. making fun of your resident weeb for reading the words "kit kat" but just in a japanese accent.

it's being so ridiculously competitive that you'll hide in a burning bin in the name of fun for a game with made up points and then squinting at your teammate ringed with the bright light of the sun and laughing at how stupid this all is. it's making fun of your teammate's music taste that you can hear through the thin walls of the drivers' rooms. trusting the journey. mimicking each other's body language. knowing it's for the marketing but winking at the camera together anyway, like we're all invited to be in on the joke. two parallel lives woven in two different garages with almost identical specs. being so comfortable you have this weird rapport that is kind of a cipher and unknowable to anyone outside of the immediate network or team, but it's so assured and quiet that for the first time the person who's been the person who was once the younger teammate steps up, acts older now, and becomes comfortable with the silence.

it's knowing your best friend was on their renault team and not saying anything about it in public but the motorsport world is so small and specific and the experience so surreal that surely some laylines are just strangely predestined. it's about growing up together. it's watching the brit upstart in a generation of two other brit upstarts chase his dream and give up everything to win and get velcroed to the seat because he's kind of small, just like you, but you dream bigger than anyone dares to dream and you identify with the other's self belief that says you, too, could stand on that top step one day. it's you following the little blue-suited guy racer on social media and liking sooo many of his posts over the years, and not even bothering to hide that fact when you've probably become that goalpost for someone else one day, too.

it's chapter 2, with 3 more to go. it's watching your teammate win his first sprint race and finding it in yourself to be happy for him even when you're sad that it wasn't you. it's publicly saying that the rookie is not a threat, he's a threat who makes you race better. it's making fun of newbie's first day at mclaren and finding him unknowable. and he arrives with all this hype and pressure so what can you do but focus on you and step up your game, but he's always in the background and the periphery, chasing and chasing with this hunger that is unbelievable and unfamiliar because it's always humming in a way that made you mistake stillness for idleness in the past. but now, you know: still waters run deep, so you swim harder, too. drop the dj-ing. become more disciplined. train more. do things that don't matter, less.

because the future is vast. the future is happening constantly if you're ready to meet it. and maybe destiny will be kind, and your names will be remembered. your name, inked on a trophy in the precious metal of kings, and dreamers. your name, inked in gold.

but today, you're 22. you're 24.

you're driving a car as fast as you can, and everything that's possible, feels like it could be possible, right now.

[smalljxnnie]

⏝ִ︶⏝ִ︶⏝ִ︶⏝ִ︶⏝ִ︶⏝

THE KEYS ABOUT YOUR FUTURE LOVER

⏜ ︵⊹︵ ⏜ ︵ ୨୧︵ ⏜ ︵⊹︵ ⏜

01. 02. 03.

04. 05. 06.

˒ 🥛 ៸៸ ꒰ disclaimer ୨୧ ⋆

All of the images was collected and saved through pinterest. Take all everything as grain of salt as no one can really truly predict the future. Any resonated results are purely product of the current energy. Every option for each pile are from left to right.

˒ 🧂 ៸៸ ꒰ copyright ୨୧ ⋆

All right reserved by smalljxnnie 2023. Do not copy, re-publish, transmit, and exploit this reading in any way. Please do obtain permission of the creator. Any infringement of copyright are punishable by the law.

Pile 1

cards: strength - ii of cups - iv of wands

brave, confident, the one who you will tame, loves being at control, offers love in you, happy being with you, only have eyes for you, lots of eye contacts, being friends/partner with them, balance, equally love, attractive, could be an ex, will meet in them in an engagement or marriage, bless person, stable, protective & secure, love of aesthetic things, might be a successful or abundant person, enjoy family gatherings, might meet them on your way home and reunions/parties/ events, have self esteem and pride, people welcome them everytime they come home, have great neighborhood and family, isn't selfish and share success in others, has happy community or family, home person or likes being at home, often feels happy whenever they are in home, contented to everything they have, have happy work environment such as supportive co workers and a boss, might travel for work/ work overseas, have supportive environment, somewhat popular or famous, Leo sign (may name as Leo), Cancer.

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Pile 2

cards: king of swords - ace of wands - vi of swords

mature, powerful, intelligent and analytical, authority level, likes to speak the truth and brutal honest, communicate well, disciplinarian, set some standard for themselves and to others, more on reasoning and logic, head and not heart, heartless (cold), unbiased to people and a situation, detached and aloof person, strict, follow all the rules and regulations in every situation, splitting painful facts, detailed oriented, black and white is their favorite color, more on private side, the gifted or full of talent, ideas = action, driven individual, ambitious, charismatic, motivate and empower people, fast in action or the way of speak, accept every challenge, keep calm and cool every moment, racer, pretty daring in way of speaking and act, older, always wanted to be on top and at first, take risks, want to be original and unique, never be afraid to start over, slow in healing and moving on, often finding safest place, feels defeated when they are not on the top, carries negative attitude or beliefs, distance themselves to people, trust issues, likes boats or own one, Aries sign (may name as Aries) and air signs such as Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

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Pile 3

cards: v of cups, the tower - 6 of pentacles - 7 of cups

experience trauma in life, appear as sad, not feelin' satisfied in everything they have, multiple heartbreaks, have regret and shame, always blaming themselves, focus much in past events, lonely, isolate themselves from the others, feel that they are disappoint in life, have inner anger, have many what ifs, doesn't want to embrace change, fear of change, loss something or someone into their life, in pain, was abused, loss something because of natural disasters, loves to share to people who are less, help people in their needs, likes donating and leave tips, care for humanity, doesn't judge easily, give and will receive a lot, fair person, desire to understand themselves more, wanted to be honest to themselves, has priorities, hide their true identity, imagination and illusion, daydream, plenty of choices, too much opportunities and doesn't able to know what to grab to, can be lazy, isn't organize, unable to think clearly when lots of opportunities come together,

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Pile 4

cards: wheel of fortune - ix of wands - 10 of pentacles

good luck, destined to be each other, soulmate, fortunate, anxious about something, guarded most of the time, a hero?, someone who have more experience, patient and perseverance, strength, determine to anything, could be defensive, protective about themselves and the others, competitive, often stand alone, doesn't fight without a cause, lonely, competitive, desire of support and backups, thinking about the past mistakes, overwhelmed about too much commitments, responsibilities and burdens, prefer they were the only owner of something, financially stable, materialistic person, got high ambition in life, luxury, want comfort in life, value family, their family is supportive, wealthy/rich, came from wealthy family, have family business, celebrate a lot with family, an old school, respect elders, conservative, old fashioned person, some people here would only marry them for money, contracts, arranged marriage for money and power, at the same time doing a job and parenting.

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Pile 5

cards: vi of wands - 10 of cups - queen of wands

successful, lots of achievements and rewards, always at the top, the of all the people you meet, in higher position, a natural leader, stability, go getter, acknowledge by people, praise and support by everyone, supportive environment, supportive person, famous or popular, V.I.P, as always the centre of attention, particularly most of the time they were in spotlight, not selfish and share what they got(success), treat everyone with proper fairness, confident, can be prideful, may work in politics, often free in troubles, happy in what they have and got, there family is the sweetest people, likes children, is your soulmate, you were both destined to each other, will be in long term relationship, they are loving, good luck, blessed person, give gifts or have lots of gifts, contented to everything, relax, comfortable at home, home person, secure or stable in family and finances, fun to be with, playful, caring and supportjve, will give you a happy home life, grew up in a happy family, you already dream them before inside of your home, mature and strong, capable of doing most the things, independent, proud for who they are, might outgoing, doesn't fear to someone or to something, ambitious, determine in everything, inspire people, attractive, appear as sexy, fun and do jokes around, dramatic, can be friendly, offer a hand to people who needs help, protective and defend people who are close to them, bold and is daring, sunny, keeps healthy, eat healthy, athletic and sporty, athletic body.

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Pile 6

cards: the devil - king of pentacles - page of wands - ix of wands

depressed, have mental health issues, has addiction or obsessed person, materialistic, sensual, abusive/violence or were once experience abuse, mature, someone older, successful, rich (wealthy), midas touch, likes luxurious and expensive things, may own a bussiness, have too many qualifications, ambitious, lots of assets and possessions, high status, comfortable life, lots of money, has ability to buy whatever they want, secure and a protective about themselves, a hard worker, patient, someone who is cautious and people don't want to cross paths with them, skillful, the one who provides and earn, down to earth, resourceful especially to people who were need them, bussiness minded, can be friendly, supportive and likes to encourage people around them, generous in everything, faithful and committed in a relationship or to their career, set a standard, traditional, conservative, stubborn but they are slow to anger, value their worth, healthy physique, exercise, may own land/property, adventurous, intelligent and creative, travel, take the risk, entrepreneur, an inspiration, confident, childhood is important for them, may have child, loves children, often curious about something that caught there interest, open minded, charismatic, brave and has courage to do what is needed to, doesn't fear for the challenges, extrovert, extravagant, handsome/pretty, might be a student atm, playful and likes to have fun, likes sports, play sports, athletic, athletic body, lots of experience, prove themselves and what they can able to do, ready for the fight, too many commitments and burdens, responsibilities, force to do something that they don't want to, protective, tough person. competitive, likes to compete with people.

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[baby-tini]

your mikey headcannons are so GOOD!!! i love how you write his character. how do you think all timeline mikey will react to a girly gf? someone who likes pink, stuff toys, and wearing skirts, etc (i'm a 22 year old woman who likes those so 😔)

Babes, I am (now) 20 y/o and I love plushies, I have a huge collection of beanie babies (not my pic, just what they look like) and I love pink and you could wear skirts at any age frfr and thank you sm

Toman\OG Timeline- He doesn't really mind any of it, too be honest with you. He thinks it's pretty cute actually. As long as it's too over the top, because he does have a reputation too up-hold, then ask for whatever. If you want a specific stuffed animal, just let him know and he'll have someone get it for you. He likes that you dress all girly, it's cute contrast to his constant gang attire. He also may or may not let you put cute pink bows in his hair... but only in private and you have too catch him in a good mood. He also won't let you do it ever again if he finds out that you've taken pictures. (He's not being serious, but you better not show anyone because he will kill them.)

Manila- He teases you about it, but he really doesn't care. He loves seeing you in your skirts.. as long as he's the only that sees it, or else you're not allowed too where them at all. He'll do this thing where, if you misbehave he'll take your little stuffed animals away, he's done it before. Now, he won't destroy them, unless you really piss him off, but he will take them away from you. For example, if you don't give him affection, he'll have his gun pointed at the little studded plushies head. He doesn't mind all the pink, but he will tell you it's an eye sore, when in actuality, he quite enjoys the pop of color in the apartment.

Kanto- Doesn't really care, as long as there's not stuffed toys everywhere, do whatever you please. He does get a little annoyed if your shared bedroom is covered in pink however, so don't.. go crazy with the decorations. He doesn't mind the skirts, but you are made too wear shorts under them if there's anyone besides Mikey around, it also has too be to your knees and he will give you length checks if you're going out, which is already pretty rare on it's own. In these length checks, you will be told too bend over, and if, he can see your shorts, that you have too wear under it or if the shorts are too short, you are made too change and don't throw a tantrum, as he calls them, 'cause then you're not allowed too go out at all.

Bonten- Loves the little skirts, he likes too bend you over his desk, as he sits in his chair, paperwork spread messily around his desk. He just likes too run his hands up the back of your thighs, playing with the lace. Just like with Kanto though, you're only allowed too wear the skirts with him, he does take it a little further though, as in, if there's anyone is around, you can't wear the skirts at all. Not even with shorts underneath, not at all. Either you wear long shorts or pants. Doesn't mind the plushies, he'll just watch you as you sit with or play with them, the only thing about it that would annoy him about them though, is if, you show the plushies more affection or you cuddle with them and not him. That'll piss him off and he'll take them away. He doesn't mind the pink, as long as it's kept to a minimum.

Street Racer- Thinks it's the cutest thing ever, seriously. He prefers when you wear skirts, simply because he likes too keep one of his hands on your thighs all the time. He'll run his thumb over the soft skin as he just has conversations with his friends. It's not really sexual for him, he just likes too be touching you all the time and he appreciates that skin-to-skin contact. Doesn't mind or care about you having plushies, he thinks it's sweet that as an adult, you still keep your childhood- or adulthood memories in the shape of little plushies. If he wakes up and sees your little plush ha sfallen on the floor, he'll pick it up and put it back in your arms, he'll even learn all the names and refer to them with prefered pro-nouns and if they have backstories.. he's all ears baby and he's so interested, asking questions and everything.

[sopestvr]

(TAK-GING)⠀INTAK HWANG.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ “ACE!RACER BOYFRIEND HEADCANONS.”

†⠀warnings y disclaimers — fem!reader. streetracer!au. fluff. smut. no plot. sex fiend!intak. pussy whipped. overstimulation. crying. overprotective!intak. jealous!intak. voyeurism.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀who is always all over you 24/7, no matter what you’re doing. you could be tuning your next track car and he’d be right there behind you; slapping your ass (consensually) before pushing up on you to ask what you’re doing even though it’s evident.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀that can’t help but stare at you all through out your event-filled night. you could simply be sitting right beside him against his car, or out on the floor dancing with the girls, and his eyes would be solely locked on you. he didn’t care if it was obvious, that was the least of his problems.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀is the type of boyfriend to let you show him how to properly change a car part under the hood, even though he was the one who taught you how when you first started dating. it totally wasn’t so he could look at your ass while you bent over his front end. yes the fuck it was.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀that man loved everything about you. from the way you styled your hair, to how you towered over him both on the streets and in bed. every chance he got her kiss you from head to toe, even if it embarrassed you. he just liked seeing you get antsy about it.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀who takes his ace/top racer position very seriously, he’d switch from the puppy love boyfriend he was to a cold hearted speedster on the tracks. he made sure he never raced you because he’d be damned if he let you see that side of him.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀who was introduced to you by your best friend stephen yoon. there’s not a day that goes by where intak is annoying the shit out of stephen by thanking him for getting you two together. at first steph didn’t mind and quite frankly he thought it was cute, but now he wants to just rip intak’s head off any time he mentions it.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀that spoils you rotten with the money he gains from races. you saw a new kate spade you like? he bought you the entire collection. there’s a new jordan coming out soon? he already has it in your collection in the closet.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀who knows his status in the racing world. he’s very aware of his popularity, but he doesn’t let it get to his head. he flaunts you in all your glory in front of everyone, making sure they all knew who he belonged to.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀who begs you to ride him whenever you two are intimate, loving how you get against him in all the ways. it could be in the comfort of your own bedroom, or in his car, he didn’t care. and, if he didn’t, you didn’t.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀that’s left an utter and crying mess whenever you tease and edge him for almost an hour. his body twitches every few seconds, especially when the base of your thumb slides between his tip, cries of ecstasy falling from his lips. all you simply do is grab his cheeks to make sure he continues to look at you, even through his teary-eyed state; water stains tinting his cheeks.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀that begs to fuck you all throughout the night yet the minute you do, he’s a crying and begging mess asking you to let him cum for the fifth time. you do, but not without making fun of his vulnerability.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀who you laugh at when he tries acting hard in front of his friends, whispering into his ear all the things you did to him the night before. the redness that shades his face afterwards is picture perfect, you and the rest of his friends laughing at him.

ACE!RACER INTAK⠀♱⠀who gets irritated whenever his teammates are all over you. they mean no harm and he should know that, but the way he dicks you down when you get home later says otherwise.

© SOPESTVR — do not steal my works. all rights reserved.

[lewisinho]

✨lewis hamilton’s most underrated mercedes drives ✨🏎️

as promised, part 2 with some mercedes drives (by all means not an exhaustive list, but at the very least i hope, a worthy one); lewis’ mclazza drives collection for those interested: here

fav lil’ guy finally free from the clutches of ron dennis and mclaren, handed some rocketships, reunited with blond guy named nico and entering his domination era; live laugh love achieving zen era comes much later; this is lewis hamilton who is ready to fight god and anyone who stands in his way; there’s a ruthlessness to him and his driving, which he will use and he will use it well, he’s talented and good, you watch lewis in a car that can perform and it’s just such a pleasure to witness what he is capable of doing; he is a racer, first and foremost, and he is obsessed with winning, i mean obsessed, the way he celebrates every single win like it’s his very first; he loves and bleeds this sport, even if it can be incredibly cruel to him (and still is, to this day). and btw still the king of the fucking circus, don’t you forget it. chasing your own destiny and creating a myth out of your legacy, you know when david bowie said i always had a repulsive need to be something more than human… yeah lewis who’s afraid of not doing enough, of not being enough, he cannot remain human, he must be something more, he needs to be the best and he wants it more, and you know for a man who has ‘divine love’ tattooed on his hand, what does a narrative mean? for someone who believes that what he does is an art form and who describes racing as a spiritual experience, one must presume there is some form of divinity he believes he can obtain,,,anyway 🙃, allons-y: 

hungary 2014 🇭🇺 aka the usual hamilton hungarian cook sesh’ (he’s a bit insane around this track ngl)

arguably his most underrated non-win drive; pitlane start to p3 and features radio gold such as ✨i’m not slowing down for nico ✨💅 iconique if you ask me; the racing gods decided to plague him with brake issues and a hot seat burning his ass on top of his car already catching on fire during quali (give this guy a break lmao); everything was against him, and he still got a podium. also his overtakes during this race...and specifically THAT overtake on jev *chefs kiss*. i also endorse his criminal behaviour and his last-lap shenanigans with nico as well. 10/10 no notes.

silverstone 2015 🇬🇧 aka cloud watching pays off

lewis at silverstone. yeah. but add a bit of spice in the form of english weather™️. instincts of a man from stevenage and one prescient decision to pit for inters at just the right time before the heavens opened and you get a win by 11 seconds ahead of the next guy and a whole field of cars scrambling in the wet. luck or genius? they asked. 'i can see the clouds over stowe'. he saw the clouds and nico approaching, pulled the trigger on lap 43 and won the race, so you tell me. also features some celebratory donuts (he was so happy after the race, silverstone means a lot to him and you can really tell) and bono soaking wet on the podium 😁

brazil 2016 🇧🇷 aka the interlagos saga continues

whatever max verstappen was doing to nico rosberg in this race is one thing (objectively hilarious), but lewis hamilton, you see he won that race; babes after the race said he was watching the screens around the track while driving in the brazilian downpour, unbothered, incredibly moisturised, happy, very much in his lane, focused and flourishing; and as mentioned in lewis’ underrated mclaren drives post, lewis at interlagos is special, the lore, the myth of it all runs deep, and this is the first time he’s won! in the pouring rain, while trailing in a championship he will eventually lose, he’s finally achieved a dream he’s had: winning in brazil; the red flag period also features baby sharl nervously glancing at lewis in the haas garage (who’d have thought they’d trauma bond over a dsq in austin 7 years later…)

abu dhabi 2016 🇦🇪aka anarchy

yes, i included this race because i stand with my cancelled wife; they were calling for his ass to be fired after the race, paddy lowe was screaming in his ear to speed the hell up, blasphemy, heresy, how dare he disobey his team, how dare he want to win the championship! anyway, like yeah ofc it wasn’t entirely respectful, but it’s racing at the end of the day; a driver will prioritise himself, and lil’ war criminal lewis, i adore you very much (he had horner defending him lmfao while torger was sending him to red bull); the shitstorm in the media afterwards, goodness gracious tho; no wonder lewis and toto needed a sit-down in toto’s kitchen lol; but it’s such a beautifully well-managed race; of course he could go faster, of course he knew exactly what he was doing slowing down and speeding up in just the right places…all in one desperate but masterful attempt at winning the championship; in the end, it wasn’t in his hands, but it is still a great race to watch purely for the mind fuckery and mercedes being absolutely pissed. also, it’s very much an end of an era.

monza 2018 🇮🇹 aka one man and his machine against a nation of ~60 million people

maybe 'underrated' is the wrong word to use for this one in all honesty, people give his ‘18 post-summer break run its due honours, because this is lewis destroying the hopes and dreams of the tifosi, sebastian vettel and the ferrari establishment with maurizio arrivabene at the helm race by race, lap by lap; it’s lewis at arguably, his strongest yet, he danced in that w09, those magnificent quali laps, those races that he dominated from start to finish...but monza, oh monza, maybe there’s something so poetic about that race and starting the run of domination in ferrari land; it’s got lewis vs kimi!!! nostalgia merchants will absolutely adore this one because it’s just like those ‘07 races, also brilliant strategy from merc and lewis and his incredible, jaw-dropping race pace driving like a man possessed 

hungary 2019 🇭🇺 aka the infamous one that inspired spain '21

when lewis arrives at the hungaroring, you know the man is about to cook something worthy of a michelin star. add a two-stop strategy masterclass from one james vowles and you get an absolute classic of a race and if you know what happened just a week earlier (the trials and tribulations of hockenheim), it also feels like redemption; two cars fighting for the win, lewis banging in quali lap after quali lap as he hunts down max; clinical, faultless, and brilliant and it’s such a satisfying race to rewatch (bonus: there’s also jv on the podium and lewis looking incredibly proud)

spain 2020 🇪🇸 aka the pure brilliance of lewis and the w11

jallison’s monster, w11. when she first appeared in fp1 on a friday morning in southeastern austria, best believe the first notes of the imperial march already sounded prophetically around the styrian alps. an icon, a legend, she was the moment and we miss her dearly. pair her with one lewis hamilton, a man on a mission both on track and off it, and you will produce sexiness. purple helmet + black w11 legendary combo, the sheer cunt serving, the audacity, THE presence; i could mention any race from 2020 (notably, tuscany and portugal bc they fly under the radar as well in terms of lewis' performances) but i will add spain to this list, mostly because of what lewis said post-race about what he experienced during the race and why it epitomises the brillance of him as a driver: "i was just in a daze out there", "i was in a different zone then, didn't know it was the last lap" ; you don't reach perfection, but you chase it (as he also mentioned in the press-co), but there's something quite sublime in seeing him deliver such a performance, when he himself is left well, stunned; this is the race that could be lewis hamilton's 90 minute masterclass on tyre management.

hope you enjoyed these vroom vroom recs; might still yet do a merc 2.5 post cause there are a few other drives that also deserve a mention 💜🏎️

[alearicci]

“you're losing me, charles” – CL16.

pairings: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader(but name in fic Ann); charles leclerc x ex-girlfriend.

summary: the most difficult breaking is when you and her love each other, but the decision can no longer be changed.

warning: break up, hurt/comfort, sad, a little bit social media au.

song to read: you're losing me - taylor swift.

note: this is just my understanding of how a girl can act when parting. In your thoughts it may be different, but this is a story with my fantasy fiction and therefore, I ask you to treat it with understanding.

It was too painful to write, I feel very bad about parting with people I once loved.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Charles Leclerc was sitting on the bed, looking at a photograph of him and his girlfriend Ann standing on the bedside table. The weight of the impending decision weighed heavily on his heart. But he understood that there was no other way out. That if he didn't tell her right now, he wouldn't be able to later. Then this belated conversation can aggravate the situation and make it much worse for both her and him. Charles took the photo in his hands and took the picture out of the frame. He smiled sadly as soon as his eyes met the girl in the photo. Ann. She was always there for him and gave him sincere love. She provided him with such necessary support, gave him the opportunity to feel needed.

Charles involuntarily thought about the day when this photo was taken. It seems that it was the first time she came to a family dinner in his family. Ann immediately liked his mother and brothers, which made the racer very happy. And how can someone not like such a girl?

Charles really loved her. He loved her with all his heart.

But now his heart is asking him to let her go.

The world-famous Formula 1 racer, determined to succeed in his career, knew that sacrifices were inevitable, but he never imagined that he would have to choose between career and love.

He was so eager to become a professional driver, did everything to make his dream come true. He could stay up all night thinking about how to improve the car, he trained until he lost consciousness, he squeezed everything out of himself to succeed. But how can you live without love in our cruel world?

He dreamed of returning home after a hard workout, spending time with his beloved and telling about the past day at the racetrack. He dreamed of seeing his girlfriend in the paddock, she would be wearing his trademark cap and would glow with happiness when he crossed the finish line in the top three. He dreamed of celebrating victory until morning and knowing that his sleeping beauty was waiting for him at home.

He got it and now he will lose it of his own free will. Funny, isn't it? When you love a person and when he loves you, you don't give up on him. But this time it's different.

Ann walked slowly into the room, noticing the thoughtful expression on Charles' face and their shared photo in her hands. A certain anxiety and misunderstanding of the whole situation filled her eyes as she walked towards him.

"Honey, what's wrong? I don't recognize you lately. Are you okay?"

Charles took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. It turned out pretty damn bad. He couldn't bring himself to say those terrible words.

"Ann, we need to talk. Please sit down."

Ann sat down next to him, her hand gently touching his arm.

"Of course, Charles. What is it?"

He gently stroked her fingers with his own, finding solace in her touch before breaking the news that would destroy her in just a couple of seconds. And, it is unlikely that he will ever be able to touch her like that again.

"I... I think we should break up."

Ann's eyes widened in disbelief, she let out a nervous laugh and muttered.

"Break up? Charles, are you kidding? I don't really feel like laughing."

Charles plucked up the courage to look into her eyes, his own eyes were full of uncharacteristic sadness, because at any other time his eyes were filled with a mischievous sparkle.

"No, Ann, I'm not kidding. Damn it."

Charles exhaled heavily and bit his lower lip.

"What... What did I do wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

"It's not about you. It's about me and my career. Formula 1 requires a huge level of dedication, and also requires me to always be focused and ready for any turns. I'm not able to properly combine common sense on the track and feelings for you. I just... not worthy of you, you know? I want to spend more time with you so that we can be a normal couple like everyone else, go on frequent dates, stay up all night, dance until morning, but I can't. I'm sorry, but my decision is well thought out and I won't change it."

Ann's voice was shaking with pain. She couldn't believe it would end like this. That he had told her in plain text that she meant nothing to him. That he chooses himself, not them, or even her.

"So you prefer the race to me, right?"

Charles tightened his grip on her hand, his heart clenched in pain from the decision he had made.

"I don't want to lose you, Ann. But I can't ignore the pressure to perform, to constantly give my best on the track. I never wanted this, honey. I never meant to hurt you. But our careers, our aspirations pull us in different directions. The demanding nature of my profession and constant travel do not allow me to give you the time and attention you deserve."

Tears were still gathering in the corners of Ann's eyes as she hurriedly removed her hand from Charles' palm.

"You're losing me, Leclerc. As soon as I started this conversation. If you can't handle everything, then I don't think you really needed me. I thought we could support each other, Charles. I believed that we could handle this together. But it looks like it was all in vain."

Charles swallowed noisily and shouted nervously.

"Ann, our love is sincere and strong, but the reality of my profession is inexorable. Constant travel, intense training, demands on my time... it would be unfair to ask you to wait for me, to put your life on pause."

Charles paused, his voice choked with emotion, and Ann was silent, still trying to be strong.

There was emptiness inside.

With a heavy sigh, he gathered his thoughts and continued: "I don't want to keep you from your dreams, from the opportunities that lie ahead of you. You deserve someone who can be there for you, who can give you the love and support you need. And right now I can't be that person, no matter how much I want to be."

He automatically took Anne's slightly trembling hands in his again, squeezing them to comfort her. To comfort not only her, but also myself.

"Please understand that this decision is also tearing me apart. It's not because I don't love you, but because I love you enough to know it's the right thing to do. We both deserve real happiness and satisfaction, even if it means that our paths diverge."

Ann nodded, trying to smile as sincerely as possible. She knew she couldn't change Charles's mind, but she couldn't not defend her honor. Finally, she abruptly pushed Charles's hands off her own, causing him to round his eyes in surprise and said.

"If this is what you really think is best for your career, Charles, then I won't stand in your way. I hope that you will achieve the success you are striving for. Good luck.

Ann got out of bed and went to the closet to pack her things.

"Ann..."

Charles stood behind her and wanted to hold out his hand to calm her down.

"Silence, Leclerc. Silence. Let me pack my things and get out of your house. And out of your life. I will remain in it only in memories. As your friend said... Daniel, I think his name is. No regrets, only memories. Right. "

Ann's voice traitorously broke from nervous overstrain, which made both her and Charles start in fright.

When Charles reluctantly let Ann go, he couldn't help but wonder if the price he had paid was too high and if success on the racetrack would ever bring him the same joy and happiness that Ann had once brought.

Ann left an hour after their conversation. It took Charles a long time to get used to the idea that she would not come back.

Everything reminds him of her.

Everything reminds her of him.

As soon as Ann got to her apartment, she didn't cry or break the dishes. She went to her Instagram, deleted all joint photos with Charles from her profile and posted a post with a single phrase.

hahaitsann

liked by carlossainz55, arianagrande and 234.379 others

hahaitsann my heart won't start anymore for you

view all 1881 comments

arianagrande: babe are u ok?

⇾hahaitsann: happier than ever

carlossainz55: fck. ann you're alright?

⇾ hahaitsann: of course, ca, don't worry:)

danielricciardo: ann are you home? I will come now.

⇾ hahaitsann: ouuh. no need, dan, tysm.

kellypiquet: girl I'm here

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, fancharles1 and other 1.290.300

charles_leclerc i can't find a pulse.

view all 12.328 comments

landonorris: you guys are scaring me, what happened?

⇾ charles_leclerc: nothing just an incident

carlossainz55: charles, can you go to direct and answer me?

fancharles1: WHA-A-AT

⇾ carlossainz55: same reaction mate

sofiestay: I hope you're all right, Charles.

lec16lerc: god what happened?

16charlec: did you and Ann break up?

⇾ janerttb: I think yes, they both don't have pictures in their profiles together. Did you see Ann's post?

⇾ 16charlec: no. but. wtf.

So that's what was supposed to happen. It hurts, yes. But you have to be a strong girl.

[circuit-if]

Info post for the key characters and romance options for Circuit, with personalities, (some) backstory, and appearance listed. Choose between 4 romance routes - fall in and out of love with the other driver on your team, your rival on the track, your team's head engineer, or the sponsor heiress who's taken a liking to you.

Roman Gray [RO, he/him] - Your rival on the track. Gray came from the same neighbourhood as you, and you've raced alongside him since your very first competition. But he's no longer that young boy, left grinning with adrenaline after every circuit. No, now he's hungry for that prize with a stern drive that wont let whatever friendship you had get in the way of, and faces you only with stone cold glares and ridiculously tough competition.

Backstory - You and Roman grew up racing along tracks all over small town California, proving yourselves to everyone who doubted you over the years and rising fast in the ranks beside one another. You both spend your nights after races at the same bar in San Diego, where you make memories and vow to each other to make it to the top: the URCA championships. If only it were possible to do it together.

Appearance - Short dark brown hair in a textured fringe, gray eyes, soft, one sided smile, lean muscle, fair skin, 6'0. He wears his race jacket whenever he can, usually over casual streetwear with dark neutral tones and greens.

Romance Route - Rivals to lovers. Compete with Roman in the championship league while underlying grudges, hurt, and jealousy get in the way of the love that you share underneath, and the will to forgive. Can you repair what was once there, rescuing it from the rubble of that last night in California, or will you let it fall away under the press' love of rivalries? Or will it become something more?

Nicholas/Nadine Spade [RO, gender selectable] - The other driver on your new team, nicked "The Blade" and loved by many. N has been racing for nearly as long as you have, along the searing tracks of Miami with an effortless talent. Always finding a way to twist the situation into a witty joke and a laugh, they quickly establish themself as someone to trust among the chaos that is your new life as a top racer.

Backstory - N. grew up in Miami, under the legacy of their father, an elite racer from decades prior. From a young age, they were recognised in races for their family name and its power and prowess in the racing world. They struggled to create their own identity, eventually being labelled "Spade the Blade" for their creative tactics for cutting through groups of cars at a time.

Appearance - Dirty blonde hair cut at their neck in beach waves, chestnut brown eyes, freckles, smile lines, lopsided, charming grin, tan skin, 5'8. They wear a lot of graphic tees and have a habit of collecting bracelets for their wrists, with a generally vibrant palatte underneath their leather jackets for motor biking.

Romance Route - Friends to lovers, with a little "just friends" thrown in. Win races side by side, strategise, and plan with a little distraction on the side. Mutually pine for one another between circuits, and realise the importance of your other half not only for the team, but for you.

Sadie/Spencer Monroe [RO, gender selectable] - Your head engineer, a failed aspiring racer with a silent but deadly disposition. S designed your car from the wheels up, with one goal: to win. To win in a way they couldn't on the track themself, despite knowing everything there is to know about the sport. S has high expectations for you and N, and they're not one to disappoint.

Backstory - S. grew up in the countryside of New York, with one goal: to become the most legendary racer the URCA has ever known. With that in mind, they began racing circuits across the mid Atlantic, building and repairing their own cars and taking them into leagues they weren't welcome in because of their ultra-creative mechanic improvements. They quit soon after, turning their engineering talents to the benefit of more talented racers instead.

Appearance - Auburn hair at the base of their neck, hazel green eyes, a dusting of freckles, slender, pale skin, 5'9. They wear a brown bomber jacket over a lot of their clothes, a lot of flannel and warm tones.

Romance Route - Forbidden love. S. is an engineer, ensuring your cars are running exactly as they should, pushing them to their limits with speed and control. Their job is entirely behind the scenes, almost no one knows they exist, and they prefer it that way. You're a racer. The worlds eyes are on you. When you both face your growing feelings, you're forced to keep them away from the rest of the world and hide your romance.

Carmen Caddel [RO, she/her] - Heiress to one of your biggest sponsor companies. Carmen grew up in the lifestyle of fame and luxury, and handles it with such grace and poise that shows in every paparazzi photo and every interview. With her guiding you through the press conferences and afterparties, it should be easy to maintain the public image you're intended to keep. Right?

Backstory - Carmen was born to Defina Caddel, the founder of the creatively named company, Caddel, that has been at the head of the fashion industry for decades. Carmen inherited Defina's expensive taste and affinity for matters of fame from a young age. She was raised learning about her mothers' company, around fashion designers rather than her peers, and preparing for the day she would have to take over as CEO herself.

Appearance - Curly black hair to her mid-back, dark brown eyes, full cheeks, bright smile, tan skin, 5'5. She's only ever seen in designer clothes (most often from her mothers' brand), all of which are sleek and fitted prior to wear.

 Romance Route - The power couple. MC is a driver that has worked from the bottom up, and Carmen was born into wealth and fame. With different skill sets, connections, and experience, you both face the fame and fortune, good and bad, that's coming at you a little stronger together.

- PROMO POST -

[ssuperficialspacecadett]

Friday Fight Night

Chapter Four of the Through the Scope series | Chapter Five

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3.4K

Chapter Overview: You help Benny and the guys get ready for FFN.

Notes: this chapter is just a bit shorter than what i usually like to post, but i didn't have a lot of time to write this week & i'm actually content with where i ended it ! sometimes u just have to stop a little short so u don't just start typing random shit to meet a bullshit word count u give urself u know? i updated the tag list so if i missed u PLZ LET ME KNOW & i will add u asap !! well as usual...my asks are always open & happy reading <3

*no use of y/n & female presenting reader*

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Why is this so difficult? It's just like every other day at work, except for the fact that it's not. You have been standing in front of your closet for a good 10 minutes now just looking at your clothes. Suddenly nothing seems good enough to wear. Maybe something would be good enough if you knew how to dress for a fight. Should you wear workout gear? No, you weren’t the one fighting. Should you wear a tank top and a tennis skirt? Probably not if it gets as rowdy as Benny says it will. 

“Just pick a fucking outfit, you idiot.” You chastise. 

After yet another once over of your closet you pick out a worn, white t-shirt with an image of Speed Racer on it. It had definitely seen its glory days years ago when you were still in college. If it worked then, it should work now. You take it off its hanger, along with some jeans, and put it all on. You’re tying your shoes when your phone chimes next to you. 

???: Hey, we will be getting to the gym around closing time. Are you staying to help Benny set up? 

???: Oh, this is Frankie BTW

Seeing his name on your screen makes your chest tighten with excitement. You obviously gave him your number so he could text you, but now it feels so real. Something about Frankie texting ‘BTW’ makes you giggle to yourself as you sit on the floor.

You: Yes, I figured I would make myself useful. No point in going home since the fights start at 10:00 P.M. and I might lose my parking spot.

You have to set your phone down before you overthink the most basic text you have ever sent in your life. Just for good measure, you leave it on your bed while you go into the bathroom. Despite your best efforts to remain nonchalant about the whole situation, you find yourself putting on a little more makeup than usual. By the time you have wrapped up and returned to your room an unread text is waiting for you. 

Frankie: Good thinking. See you tonight then.

The rest of your morning has a bit more pep in it than before.

***

Your day at the gym passes by as usual. The only two exceptions were a truck load of last minute Friday Fight Night tickets sales and then compliments on how the gym was smelling. You made a mental note to smack Benny upside the head for throwing such a temper tantrum about it. In between customers you found yourself checking your phone more than you regularly do. You told yourself that it was just because you were excited about the fights and were counting down the minutes and not because you were hoping to receive another text from Frankie. Unfortunately, lying to yourself never really works out. 

In an effort to keep yourself occupied, you answer emails from people that are applying for a gym membership, make laps around the gym to see if you need to replace any of the wipes used to clean the machines, and collect all of the dirty towels for a load of laundry. Much to your dismay, these tasks don’t take very long to complete. By 3:30 P.M. you reluctantly slink back to the front desk where the single most unwanted guest is waiting. 

“There she is! My favorite receptionist! I’m still interested in knowing your name, darlin’.” 

“Good afternoon, Brunson.” You plop yourself down in your chair and pull up the schedule on the computer. “Just working out today? I don’t see that you’re with Benny.”

“You caught me. I want to make sure that I’m in good shape when I fight in a few weeks time.” 

For a few blissful seconds you allow yourself to indulge in the idea of Brunson getting clocked, hard, right in the jaw. 

“Well, enjoy yourself.” You scan his card quickly in an attempt to move him on his way.

“I always do so when you’re here.” He clicks his tongue at you while he walks past your desk. 

“God, he’s insufferable.” You mumble to yourself.

It’s 4:00 P.M. when Benny finally ventures up to the front lobby with you.

“Where have you been? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, man.”

“Because you haven’t,” He covers his face with his hands and whines into them before coming back up for air. “At first I couldn’t find where the white board I used to write out the fightin’ pairs was. Then there was somethin’ wrong with the beer delivery and they kept me out back for fuckin’ ever. That isn’t even coverin’ all the one on one sessions I've had today or the ones I’m still goin’ to have.”

It’s breaking your heart to see how stressed out he’s getting with all of the things he has to juggle today. You get out of your chair, walk over to him, and rub on his shoulder comfortingly. 

“It’s going to be alright, Benny. I’m staying after work to help you set up and Frankie told me that the guys are coming to help around closing too. You won't be in this alone for much longer.”

He places both of his hands on his hips and exhales deeply.

“Thank you,” You can see the earnestness in his eyes. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for, right?”

He smiles down at you from his 6’2 frame and before you can move he pulls you in for a deadly tight hug.

“Benny!” You can’t stop laughing. “Let me go this fucking instant!”

“Friends like hugs from other friends, right?” He yells over your incessant protesting. 

“I’m going to kill you, you know that?!” Your tone of voice doesn’t even sound remotely serious. 

Eventually you get him to unlatch himself from you so the two of you can finish up the work day in order to prepare for this evening.

***

You stand back proudly and admire all of your handiwork. Benny put you in charge of setting up the beer table, so set up the beer table you did. You designed a poster to hang on the wall above the table so people would be able to clearly see their options and their respective prices. You set a long, metal tub in the center of the table and filled it halfway with ice. Then you made a little arrangement out of the beer and poured the last half of the ice on it to keep it cold. The cash box was fully stocked and set to the side. All in all, you did a pretty good job. Thankfully, one of Benny’s regulars volunteered to work it this evening.

“All done over here!” You call over to Benny. “How’s the sign coming?”

You watch in horror as he stands up to reveal a barely legible fighting roster. He must have seen your face flounder when you looked at it because he just tosses the dry erase marker over to you and crosses his arms. 

“Oh, Benny I-”

“I know it looks bad. I’ve never had a knack for all this creative shit.”

You squeeze his hand as you pass him while heading to the white board. He slides over the roster that has been printed on paper for you to use as your guide. You’re so engrossed with your new task that you don’t notice when the guys come in around 8:30 P.M..

“You sure are givin’ Benny a run for his money this evenin’. The place hasn’t looked this put together in…well ever.” That sugary, sweet southern drawl could only belong to one man. 

“Thank you, Will!” You toss over your shoulder.

“Aw screw you, dude. Maybe it would have been if y’all had gotten here when y’all said you would.” Benny notes.

“Blame Fish.” Pope snickers. “He couldn’t find the perfect outfit.” 

That got your interest peaked. You turn around to look at what Frankie is wearing. Regular work boots, soft looking denim jeans, a black undershirt, a worn blue button up with the top few buttons left undone, and finally his cap- oh god he’s looking at you. If you had been a smarter woman, you would have noticed that two thirds of the group standing behind you were looking at your sign. That damned one third of the group was watching you trail your way up his whole body. He’s like an oak; completely unwavering as you take him in. 

“Well, I like it. ” You squeak out as you turn your attention back to the roster. “Now why don’t you guys go make yourselves useful and help Benny?”

You hear a unified ‘yes ma’am’ come from behind you followed by the scattering of three pairs of feet. There truly isn't anything more sexy than men who can follow orders.

All five of y’all work tirelessly for the next hour to get everything finished before the doors open to the public. When you cross off the last item on your to-do list, you decide that you have earned a drink. You sneak over to the beer table and open one of the coolers that you set up behind it that contains the excess bottles. Much to your dismay, the bottle caps don't twist off like you originally thought. You’re on your knees looking around in the extra bags and praying that Benny had the foresight to get a bottle opener when Frankie walks up next to you. 

“Lose something?”

“Just my dignity trying to locate the stupid fucking bottle opener.”

He laughs jovially as he extends his hand to help you up. You take it and sheepishly hand him your bottle when he motions for it. The two of you walk around to the front of the table and you watch as he easily takes out his keys and pops the cap open with a bottle opener he had attached to them. You notice that instead of tossing the cap in the trash he places it back in his pocket along with his keys. Right when he starts to hand the drink back to you he pulls it back towards him. 

“Hey! What gives?”

“I have to test it to make sure it isn’t poisonous or something.”

“Oh my god, you dick.” You lean back on the table behind you.

“You won’t be saying that when I save your life.” He takes a small sip and passes it over to you. “Nope. It’s not poison. You’re in the clear.”

Now it’s your turn. You turn to look out at the gym while you take a drink of your well deserved reward. 

“Wait,” You look over at Frankie. “What if it's a slow acting poison and now we are both infected? I guess you have to stay here and finish this with me so we can go out together.”

He leisurely reclines next to you on the table and takes the bottle in his hand when you offer it to him. “That's some pretty sound logic. I can’t argue with that.”

You try to stop yourself, but you watch as he brings the frosty glass to his pouty lips. They look more pink than usual against the dark color of the bottle. His hands make the beer bottle look so much smaller than it really is. Your eyes wander to that nose you’re so fond of. God, what would it feel like on your clit as he ate his fill of you? Now that you’re closer to him you’re able to see the gray that's intricately woven into his beard and hair. Would it tickle the inside of your thighs when he buried his face in your pussy? Feelings you haven’t had for a man in a long time rock through your body the further you sink into your fantasy. Drifting even further, his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows the chilled liquid. You want to decorate the sensitive skin with blossoming purple marks. 

“What?” He’s looking at you now. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” You say almost breathlessly. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t hog it all.”

“I would never.” The low baritone of his voice reverberates through you. 

Benny, thankfully, yells from across the gym at the both of y’all before you do something questionable. 

“Hey, lazy asses! It’s showtime!”

You and Frankie both let out a breath neither of y’all realized you were holding. He looks down at his watch and then faces his friend with a mild look of annoyance.

“It’s 9:30, man. It’s just the boxers and the ring girls coming in right now.”

You notice that Frankie’s body immediately tenses up after he says this. Confused, you look over at Benny who has eyes as bright as the sun and is making a beeline towards you. 

“I’m sorry.” Frankie whispers down to you. “I’m so sorry.”

“Benny? What are you-?”

“I have a proposition for you.” He says while gripping both sides of your arms. “Do you wanna hear it?”

“I don’t think I have a choice by the look of things.”

“Please be my ring girl.” He gasps.

“Oh my god.” You let your head roll back. “Benny, are you serious right now?”

“Don’t say no yet. Just think about it before you decide.” 

You roll your head over to face Frankie and raise your eyebrows. You’re met with a shrug that is just as innocent as his grin.

“Does this offer have an expiration date?” You inquire shifting your focus back to the man that currently has you in a vice grip. 

“Just think about it.” He pleads.

“Fine, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna say n-”

“La-la-la! I can’t hear you! La-la-la!”

“Don’t you have fighters to go hype up in the locker room?” Frankie cuts in.

“Nothin’ I hate more than when you’re right, Fish. Catch y’all in between the matches!”

With one final ‘think about it’, he bounds off into the locker rooms. All you can do is laugh hysterically at what just transpired. Frankie probably thinks you have lost your mind with the way you are doubled over right now. 

“Hey let us in on the joke, why don’t you?” Pope sits next to you on the table. 

“I could use a good laugh as well.” Will adds blithely.

“What you two could use is a reality check.” you walk around the table and grab a beer for each of them. “God, I can’t believe him.”

You hand Will and Pope their drinks completely forgetting about taking the tops off. Fortunately, that didn’t stop them. Will snatches Pope’s beer out of his hand and positions the bottles where one has its cap resting just barely on the edge of the other's cap. Then he slams them down on his knee and Pope’s opens with ease. After he hands the open one off, he pops his own with a thick ring he’s wearing. 

“I’m thoroughly impressed, Will. What the hell was that?”

“You just gotta learn to make due sometimes.” 

Frankie and Pope both mutter ‘show-off’ under their breaths as Will explains to you the physics behind his little trick. 

“Okay, now back to what Benny was talking about.” You adjust your stance so you can better face the group. “Are y’all in on this? This ‘ring girl’ shit?”

“Can’t say it wouldn’t be fun though.” Pope prods his finger at you. 

“Oh, yes I can.” You say swatting at him.

“You know, Benny. Once he sets his mind to somethin’ he’s pretty determined to see it through.”

“That doesn’t even begin to answer my question, Will.” You groan as you take the beer from Frankie’s hand. 

The movements between y’all are so natural, so fluid that it feels like something you have been doing for years. You see Pope, almost in shock, watch you as you take a drink.

“Can I get some of that?”

“No way, man.” You shelter the bottle against your body. “Three is a crowd and you literally have an open one in your hand.”

“Will’s right,” Frankie reasons with you. “Benny is as one track minded as they come.”

“Tell him to get on another track then.”

“How about this?” Pope counters. “You go into the locker room with Benny and see what it takes to be a ring girl. Then and only then will he accept your answer of ‘no’ if that’s still what you want.”

“If that will get him off my case then that's fine with me.” 

You start to turn towards the locker room doors when a blue sleeved arm reaches over your shoulder and plucks the beer from you. 

“Hey, give that back!”

“I just want to make sure you don’t hog it all.” Frankie’s tone is thick with sarcasm.

“I would never.” You grin.

Pope waits until you have cleared the locker room doors before he whacks Frankie in the shoulder. Unfortunately, Frankie doesn’t see it coming because he is too busy hoping to catch one more glimpse of you.

“If that's how you act around women you think are ‘just cool’ then I’m terrified to see how you act around women you actually like.”

“The fuck was that for? And the fuck are you talking about, man?” He massages the spot where Pope smacked him. 

“Will, please tell me you aren’t as blind as he is?”

“Sorry, Fish. I see it too.”

“See what?”

“That you look like a goddamn catfish whenever you look at her! Eyes all big and mouth agape.”

“I do not.” Frankie mutters. 

“Come on.” Pope folds his arms across his chest. “You think she’s cute.”

“What are we in middle school? You’re being ridiculous. Will?” 

“I’ll be honest, I wanna know too.” He flashes that signature boyish Miller smile.

All Frankie can do is laugh nervously while he removes his cap and runs his fingers through his hair. He knows that he’s in the middle of a losing battle and that he’ll have to concede. They are going to be ecstatic that a woman other than Rochelle has caught his eye. Especially when it's a woman that meshes so naturally with their group. No, what’s stopping him is that a part of himself wants to keep it a secret. To have something that is just his. No prying eyes, no unwanted advice, no consequences, and no one else has to get hurt but him. As soon as the acknowledgement of his affection for you falls from his lips, it's real. As selfish as it sounds, he wants to keep you at arms length. He feels like everything he touches breaks and he doesn’t want you to become the next casualty. You wouldn’t want him if you knew the truth about the things he has done. But then you smile or laugh and he can feel himself falling deeper and deeper into his delusions of grandeur. 

“Well, if you don’t like her then maybe I’ll ask her out.”

“No, you won't because,” Frankie puts his cap back on. “I think she’s cute. Are y’all happy? I like her.”

“Atta boy, Fish!” Will cheers. 

“I knew it!” Pope says as he pulls Frankie in for a hug. “She’s a good one, man.”

“I know she is. I just don’t know if I’m going to do anything about it right now.”

Will’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder. “Why’s that?” 

“I don’t want to fuck it up. To drag her into the shit show that is my life. I don’t even know if she feels the same way either!”

The two other men nod in understanding. Frankie takes a sip of the drink he stole from you and sighs as he looks up at the ceiling. 

“All I know is…is that I like her.”

“Shh!” 

“Pope, you were the one that wanted to talk about this!”

“Shut the fuck up! She's coming!”

“Y’all ready? I’m going to open the doors for everyone!”

The three of them use the time it takes you to unlock the doors and arrive back in order to regroup from their previous conversation.

“Did you,” Will clears his throat. “Did you like the view back there? See a future in being Benny’s ring girl?”

“I like the view from right here, thank you very much.” 

“So,” Pope rubs his hands together. “Who ready to see some dudes get the shit beat out of them?”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

{tag list: @cutesyscreenname @rsquared31 @smol-beb @bitchwitch1981 @avastrasposts @hoeslingz @saltybutteredtoast @javicstories @c-justhere @pimosworld @modernperplexity @beboldbebravethings @modernperplexity @mxtokko @moonliqhtszn @tanzthompson }

[coochiequeens]

Another example for SheWon

By Jennifer Sieland December 4, 2023

Two trans-identified males dominated a women’s category at the Illinois State Cyclocross Championships yesterday, leading many women’s rights advocates to condemn the tournament for allowing men to self-identify into the women’s divisions.

The Illinois State Cyclocross Championships was held at Montrose Beach on December 3, representing the final challenge in the eight-race Chicago CycloCross Cup. As with other events in the Cup, the event comprised of over one dozen different competitions for men, women, and junior athletes.

But two trans-identified males topped the podium in the Women’s Singlespeed category, taking home medals set aside for female racers. Tessa Johnson and Evelyn Williamson placed first and second, respectively, in the competition, leaving space for only one biological woman – Kristin Chalmers – on the podium.

Johnson also participated in the Women’s Category 1/2 race, placing third and winning $100 in prize money.

According to the Chicago CrossCup’s website, the competition prides itself on “first and foremost fostering a positive & supportive community built around competitive cyclocross racing,” continuing: “That means welcoming and challenging everyone who wants to contribute to the series and make it better in that regard.”

In its official FAQ on the topic of transgender cyclists, the Cup notes that “discrimination or harassment of any kind on the basis of race, color, religion, age, gender, sexual orientation, gender identification, national origin, or any other stupid idea someone comes up with to belittle another racer will not be tolerated at [our] events and may result in disqualification.”

On X (formerly Twitter), news of Johnson and Williamson’s victories was shared by user @i_heart_bikes, an anonymous female cyclist who frequently calls out males self-identifying as “women” in the sport. In response, many women’s rights advocates and sports enthusiasts condemned the competition for allowing the men to participate.

“Well done @usacycling you’ve proved you don’t care about women & you’re happy to put men in female categories. What a joke,” one user replied.

“Cycling has been my refuge since I was a little girl. This makes me sick to my stomach and full of rage,” another said in response to the news.

One woman’s rights advocate even went so far as to edit Johnson and Williamson out of the podium photo, placing female racer Kristin Chalmers onto the top spot.

This is not the first time that Johnson and Williamson dominated the podium at the  Chicago CycloCross Cup. In October, the two also took gold and silver in the Women’s Singlespeed, similarly leaving the only female on the podium with bronze. Johnson also took first place in the Women’s Category 1/2 race, earning him $150 in prize money.

Both Johnson and Williamson have been racing in women’s cycling for years, with Williamson collecting 18 first place titles in races across the country since 2017. 

In September, Reduxx reported that Johnson and Williamson competed as a team in two separate women’s races in Illinois, taking first place in both of them. During one of the competitions, Williamson and Johnson competed under the team name “TS-ESTRODOLLS,” a reference to cross-sex hormones.

Johnson and Williamson celebrated their initial first place win on August 27 after their victory at the xXx Racing-Athletic Relay Cross in Chicago. The two men surpassed nine pairs of women for first place.

Just days later on August 31, Johnson and Williamson beat out two teams of women at the Ed Rudolph Velodrome during the State Championship in Madison. 

Williamson is reportedly in a polyamorous relationship with Austin Killips, another trans-identified male cyclist who has become notorious for his frequent participation in women’s competitions. Killips has similarly taken several first place wins in women’s categories and has forced at least one woman out of the sport after targeting her with physical aggression during a race.

[naughtygirl286]

While out with some friends Sunday morning I had a couple of Dollar store finds which are new Optimus Primes for the collection! they are a couple of weird Optimus things

one is a little red truck thing with his head on top and it's one of those type of pull it back and let it go type of toys. I seen them and they had different ones but of course I looked thought them for the Optimus I thought it was kinda weird looking but not more weird then the next thing I found..

It is called a "Transformers Autobot & Decepticon Racers" its a hard plastic half transformed Optimus Prime I was looking at it and I'm like "wtf?" lol its all one piece except for the wheels its like the head doesn't move and the arm doesn't move its just a totally strange thing, They had the Optimus ones and BumbleBee ones which he was the same a half Transformed Car. Its just weird lol but I do like weird stuff like this tho so it was great to find them.