#and you do! and i'm not qualified to help fix them! and i need you to talk to people who can!

[oidheadh-con-culainn]

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[endzithefangirl]

"I'm gong to put 'being a WAG' on my CV" part 2

Authors note: The part 2 of this to celebrate Maxie winning the Brazil GP! Sorry it took so long, your girl is a STEM student, life got busy. Also now you know the inspo for the TechCEO!Reader.....

Summary: You come with Max to the Brazil GP to see many things: a win, an engineer.... and to have a long chat about Alexa....

Warnings: English isn't my first language, no use of Y/N, female reader, famous reader, swearing, also slight jabs at Max's dad and a few others...

Word count: 2.9k

It was the first race you had come to watch in a while. You desperately wanted to attend the one in Austin, but you got stuck in New York for work. But here you are, in Brazil, being driven to the paddock at 6:30 am for a delayed qualifying session that was probably going to be in the rain. You were worried about many things: the fans, your looks, the fact that Max's dad was going to be there, and the possibility that Max's ex-girlfriend might also be there, although Max reassured you that they were on friendly enough terms where it wouldn't be a problem.

Also, Max winning. He hasn't won since, like, April. He's been doing better recently, but he still hasn't won. And Norris was getting closer and closer to that number one spot. It was an incredibly chaotic morning. In that pre-qualifying session, Max was doing everything to avoid a repeat of the weekend before. On top of that, he was trying to end a months-long winless streak.

Great.

"Well, at least I brushed my hair today..." you mumble, looking at yourself in the phone camera. You still didn't know how to dress like a WAG. You were wearing jeans, the Red Bull jacket Max got you a while ago, some boots for the rain, and your hair down and brushed, which for you is a big thing. You also put on concealer. Miracle.

You were incredibly sexy to Max, though. Unfortunately, you both knew his father and the fashion police on social media might disagree. He didn’t mind, though. He actually preferred you didn’t wear a high-fashion, tight dress. It would have just been a distraction, not to mention, he wouldn’t see you in anything but a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants in the flat anyway.

"Did you know," you say, trying to make conversation to distract from the anxiety, "that your engineer Michael and I went to college together?"

"Really?" he asks, genuinely surprised. If he was honest, he had no idea what the engineers were like outside of their job. The rain was coming down harder, hitting like stones against the windshield.

"Yeah. So, if he got into MIT, he must be good."

Max chuckles, nodding as he looks at the road in front of him for a bit. His engineer was good, but then again, Red Bull didn’t hire anyone but the best and the brightest from the top of the class. He needed people who could handle the race and perform well under pressure. Suddenly, Max turns to you.

"Remind me again, who graduated top of the class at MIT?"

"Allen Chen..." you say, confused.

He laughs loudly before turning back to the road, his eyes fixed ahead once more. He was impressed that you didn’t even have to think for a second before listing them. That was very much like you.

"God, you’re a nerd..." he mutters affectionately with a smile.

"Says you," you laugh. "It's really raining, huh?"

Seeing your reaction to his little joke made him feel all warm inside. Knowing your sense of humor, you had absolutely no idea what you were doing to him. It was also making Max forget about the race, but at this point, he knew it was a rain delay anyway. "Yeah. Feels like we're in a carwash."

"Well, as a big enjoyer of the laws of physics, the best advice I can give you is to go slow on the turns but speed up when going uphill... There is an uphill, right?"

Max actually paused and turned back to you with a grin. It’s funny how you can switch him from hot to cold so swiftly. He still wasn’t convinced you weren’t doing it on purpose. But he couldn’t help but be amused and also impressed. "There are two hill sections, yeah. You sure you never thought of becoming a race engineer instead of becoming a nerdy billionaire?"

"I was gonna be one, but I had to drop out of college, you know, to run the company."

"You had to?" he said with an amused smirk. Max was well aware of the fact that you could buy out the entire campus if you wanted to. But he’d be lying if he said your workaholic tendencies didn’t slightly concern him.

"I tried, but it was really hard. And also, I had to move to New York—"

"Babe, you can run your business in every country imaginable and you’re telling me attending one university was too much?" Max knew he was being a smartass about it. This was more than just the workaholic in you, though. You were also a very stubborn creature, to say the least.

"Okay, I just went to college to get the visa, there, I said it. You happy?"

He chuckles, the car coming to a halt as you arrive at the paddock. The rain is hitting the sides of the car loudly. Max turns to you with a playful smirk. "See, was that so hard? But I’m happy if you’re happy, babe."

You walk out, people with umbrellas waiting for you. There were people taking your pictures as you walk into the Red Bull garage. You introduce yourself to everyone new, and a few of the engineers want pictures with you.

"Hey, we went to MIT together," you say to Michael.

"You remember?" he says, shocked.

"Of course I do," you say before Max pulls you to walk back to the driver’s area.

Max had been watching you talk to the engineer and the others with a faint smile on his face. You had been able to charm all of them within 30 seconds. It wasn’t particularly surprising, but he was still amused. He didn’t think many people realized just how captivating you were.

When you’re done talking to Michael, Max takes you to the Red Bull garage.

"That was easy. How did you make friends with my mechanics so fast?" he asks with a small chuckle.

"You might be a legend to regular people, but I'm a legend to nerds."

"Do I want to know how that happened?" he asks, amused. He knew you had always been incredibly smart and talented, but he had no idea you actually had a bit of a nerd fandom attached to you.

"I’m running a billion-dollar tech company," you say, shrugging.

He looks at you for a moment, his eyes wide. He always somehow keeps forgetting that you’re a goddamn genius. Because whenever he looks at you, he can only think how goddamn beautiful you are.

And yet you say stuff like that as if it’s normal.

You kiss his cheek. "I'll leave you to go ride fast. I'm gonna see if Michael will let me sit with them during quali." Max smirks as you say it before you kiss his cheek. He’d always found your ability to go from incredibly sexy to super nerdy to be insanely attractive. It was one of the things that made him fall in love with you in the first place.

"Sure thing, nerd. Have fun." Max jokes before giving you a kiss on the forehead.

You stayed with the engineers during quali, both because it was super interesting and also to avoid Max's dad in the front of the garage.

And then the rain fucked it all up.

All up.

Max was out of Q2.

He was 17th.

You all saw him and his dad raging in the front of the garage.

The whole quali was a mess, with so many crashes, slips, and generally poor driving in the heavy rain and fog.

As Max got out of the car, soaked and drenched from the rain, he slams the door shut in sheer anger. This whole quali was a shitshow from start to finish. So many poor decisions, so much poor driving. He wasn’t even the worst offender. And he was still only P17. In the garage, he could still hear his dad going on a rage, but he just couldn’t. Max was too annoyed and frustrated to listen.

"Well, that was shit," you say, turning around to Max from where you were sitting.

He didn’t even notice you were nearby until he heard your voice. He turned around to look at you, his hair and shirt completely soaked from rain and sweat. But he couldn’t help but smile at your comment.

“That’s putting it lightly…”

"They definitely fucked you all up with that delayed yellow flag," you say, taking off the headphones and walking over to him slowly. "Save my seat for the race, guys."

He’s about to open his mouth to answer when he finally notices the headphones around your neck and realizes you had actually been in the garage the whole time. Despite how bad the day had been so far, he’s still very impressed that you’re here in the garage and not in some skybox with champagne in your glass. As you come closer, Max can’t help but wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close, not caring how soaked he is.

You hug him back. "It's fine. At least you didn't crash like some of them. Take a breather and then you'll do great at the race later." You take a Snickers out of your pocket. "Calm down now. You're not yourself when you're hungry. Here, eat a Snickers."

He raises an eyebrow as he sees you take out a Snickers from your pocket. It wasn’t the most normal thing to have in a pocket, but somehow it wasn’t surprising at all. It was definitely very you. He also couldn’t help but think that you were probably the type of person to carry emergency snacks around in case anyone was hungry.

“How many of those do you have on you?”

"A few. They're for you if you want them. You know I'm a Mars person," you say, showing him the inner pocket of the Red Bull jacket he got you.

He smirked slightly. The fact that you were so casually admitting to carrying around a little bag of Snickers for him was hilarious. But knowing how much you care and how much you want to make sure he’s doing okay, it wasn’t actually that surprising at the same time.

“Of course you are… Can I have another one?”

He unwraps the second one and pops it into his mouth, chewing on it slowly as he looks at you. Max takes a seat in the chair behind him, his legs spread wide as he leans back, exhausted.

“…come here…” he says, pulling you to sit on his lap. You blink as you realize what he wanted.

He looks at you with a pleading look in his eyes. He usually wouldn’t ask for something like this because he knows you weren’t the type for public displays of affection in the slightest. But for some reason, he was feeling particularly needy, and he knew you would most likely not refuse if he looked at you this way.

He’s surprised at how easy it was to convince you, but it probably has to do with how terrible this weekend has been and how miserable he looks. Or maybe you’re just extra nice today. Who knows…

As you sit on his lap, the other engineers laugh.

"That's right. I know how to code and I get laid," you say, making them all laugh. "You should go have lunch and then be ready for the race."

He hums in agreement. He knew you were right, but he was still very reluctant to let go of you now that he’d finally gotten you to sit with him. He’s well aware that the others are probably still watching you.

“One kiss, please?”

You roll your eyes and give him a quick kiss. You ruffle his helmet hair as you stand up. "Go."

“See you after the race?”

You nod and wink. Max’s heart skips a beat as you wink at him, and he gives you a small smirk in response. There was something insanely attractive about your confidence and how well you handled yourself in this environment.

Before the race, you came to the front of the garage to wish Max good luck. You saw him talking to his dad in Dutch. "Hey, just wanted to say good luck," you say from the door.

His dad noticed you first as you came in from behind Max. Both Max and his dad turn to look at you, Max’s features immediately softening as he sees you. He had to hold himself back from just immediately coming up and giving you a hug… his dad was standing literally next to him… He takes a deep breath, his voice still sounding a bit tense and nervous as he looks at you with a forced smile. “Thanks, babe… Thanks for coming…”

"I'll be with the engineers. Just be calm; it's gonna be a good race regardless."

Jos, Max's dad, nods at you politely. You smile at them both and then leave.

Max watches you leave, his smile turning much more genuine right after. He really did get lucky, being able to be with such an amazing person. Even his dad seemed to acknowledge it with a respectful nod in your direction.

Max looks at his dad, taking a breath as he can somehow feel a lecture coming.

".....Ik denk dat als je het uit moet maken met de dochter van een drievoudig wereldkampioen... Je hebt haar in ieder geval vervangen door iemand die heel rijk is...." his dad said.

Max looks at Jos, his face already turning into a frown as he starts his little speech. He already had his suspicions as to where this is going, but he knew he won’t be able to stop him anyway, so he just listens.

"...... Ze is een beetje raar. Maar... Niet de slechtste die je hebt uitgekozen..... Denk je dat zij mij kan helpen met het installeren van het volledige camera-AI-systeem op mijn nieuwe plek?"

The question takes him off guard a bit. He didn’t expect his dad to actually say something like that at all. He looks at him for a moment, his expression conflicted. On one hand, he didn’t like the idea that his dad wants to ask you something like this. On the other hand, he’s well aware that you would excel at something like that… “I wouldn’t be surprised…”

Max won the race. After a red flag and on-and-off rain, Max was the winner of the Brazil GP after a 10-race no-win streak. You run to the barrier with Christian, the Red Bull team principal, cheering with the team as Max comes into the garage. Max parks the car in the garage, exhausted by the long and hard race, but elated by the victory. He gets out of the car, helmet in hand, as he walks up to the rest of the Red Bull team, adrenaline still running through his veins. He looks around at everyone, giving them all some high-fives and handshakes as he walks through the garage. But he’s most excited to see you, standing by the side, cheering together with Christian.

Max immediately makes his way towards you and Christian. He gives the team principal a high-five, but his main focus is on you, of course. He looks at you with a tired but joyful smile as he finally comes up to you.

“Hey there…”

"Whoooo! That was one hell of a race!

He wraps his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly, not even caring that he got you all drenched with rain and sweat. “That it was…” He gives you a quick kiss before going to do the post-match interview and then into the cooldown room.

As he stood on the podium, you cheered loudly from the bottom.

"Hey there champ," you say, coming through the door of the trailer a bit later. "We were thinking of dinner? And by we I mean your dad and I.... He has an Alexa?" you say, confused.

Max looks up from his phone, his face brightening almost instantly as he saw you in the doorway. His eyebrows raise in surprise at the mention of his father. Though he supposed it wasn’t really a surprise, the two of them were supposed to go out to dinner together after all.

“An Alexa?” Max asks, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"He asked me if I could set him up an AI house helper, and I was like, 'an Alexa?'"

Max nods and shakes his head, amused, a little chuckle leaving his lips at the thought of his father coming up to you with those kinds of requests.

“You’re gonna have to be careful, he’ll be asking you to install a whole AI security system in his house next…”

"....he does know my corporation is a partial owner of Ring cameras, right?"

“Maybe we should keep that little fun fact secret from him for now…”

You hug him tightly, more intimately as he stands up. He hugs you back, his arms sneaking around your waist to hold you tight against his body.

“Could you do me a favor?”

"What do you need? An Alexa?"

[tcfactory]

A smile for the master

Okay, what if white lotus Luo Binghe and OG Shen Qingqiu body swap.

The fake cultivation manual does make Luo Binghe qi deviate. Relatively early too, he's still in his white lotus phase. This qi deviation just coincides with one of Shen Qingqiu's many, many deviations and, by some freak twist of luck, swaps their bodies.

The only people who know about this are Yue Qingyuan, Mu Qingfang and the people directly involved, because they can't let word get out about the body swap. Unlike all the regular shenanigans (amnesia, de-aging, animal transformations, etc.) Mu Qingfang has no idea how to approach fixing this. He can't even tell if it is possible to fix it or not. This is such a one-in-a-million thing that there's no precedent.

So for the time being Luo Binghe in Shen Qingqiu's body will be confined to the bamboo house, under some supervision, with the excuse that Shen Qingqiu is still under danger of another qi deviation. And Shen Qingqiu gets to go out and pretend to be Binghe.

He's meant to move into the bamboo house to 'assist his shizun in his recovery' (yeah, right, like anyone would believe that), but the first thing he does once everyone leaves them alone that evening is grab a few things in a qiankun pouch and prepares to leave.

"Where is shizun going?"

"Wipe that pathetic look off my face! I'm sleeping in the woodshed."

"But shizun doesn't have to! This disciple will sleep in the side room, I-"

"I don't care where you sleep in my house. But I'm not sleeping under the same roof as a man, and you currently qualify as such."

It's such a strange thing to say that it sticks with Binghe - does his shizun genuinely feel safer in the woodshed than in the same house with his own body??? - but he is still disoriented and in so much pain that he doesn't have it in him to argue. Mu-shishu said it was not unusual for a severe qi deviation to cause pain, but he hopes it will fade quickly.

The pain doesn't fade by morning. It stays a persistent, sharp ache in his joints that seems to sap the strength from his limbs. Binghe thinks he can cheer himself up by cooking breakfast in shizun's kitchen, but his hands shake and his fingers refuse to bend right. He still scrapes together two servings of palatable congee, which gets him an unreadable look from his returning shizun. You'd think Binghe would be able to read the man's expressions on his own face better, but all he can say for certain is that his face has never made that expression before.

"Shizun, how do you stop the shaking?" Binghe asks tentatively. Shen Qingqiu made tea and brought over a few dry biscuits that looked completely unappetizing to Binghe. He planned to pointedly ignore them in favor of his own, much better food, except he has eaten two spoonfuls of congee and he's suddenly feeling sick. Something on his face must be showing because Shen Qingqiu snatches his bowl away and pushes the biscuits to him instead.

"Eat one, slowly, with the tea. It will help you keep the food down." In Luo Binghe's body his shizun has no problem eating both portions while Binghe nibbles on the biscuit. It's bitter from the herbs, but it does help. "Haven't you learned how to channel qi to stabilize your body? Useless little beast." After a moment his eyes grow wide and he hastily holds up a hand. "Don't try it with my body! The last thing we need is for you to have another qi deviation."

"Even this useless one knows how to direct and circulate his qi, shizun." Binghe tries to pout - it has never worked on his shizun, but maybe he will be more receptive of such tactics when it's his own face - but finds that the muscles of his face are not working as they should.

"Not with my meridians you don't. I thought even the lowliest of outer disciples have heard by now that my cultivation base is ruined." He squints up at Binghe and his glare is no less formidable on a different face. "Little beast. What are you trying to do with my face?"

Binghe has, in fact, reached up and is trying to feel out why he can't move part of his face as he should. "This... is there a scar here?" He's not familiar enough with scars to be sure, but he can feel the slightly different texture of the skin with his fingers as it curves around his cheek and jaw. Strange, he's sure he would have noticed before if his shizun had such a big scar on his face.

Shen Qingqiu slaps his hand away.

"A mule kicked me in the face when I was a child. They put an ointment on it at the time, so it healed well enough that it's no longer visible."

Not visible, but still present. Later, after Shen Qingqiu leaves for Luo Binghe's classes, he stands in front of the bronze mirror to test the range of his expressions and suddenly understands why Shen Qingqiu prefers to hide the lower half of his face behind a fan. The scar tissue tugs on the muscles of his face and makes the way one corner of his mouth moves rather ghastly.

It's not the only scar he has. It takes Binghe until the afternoon to work up the courage to take a bath and he can't help to look at his shizun's body then. The history written into the man's skin is distressing to say the least. Cuts and whip marks, all etched in deep, and burns, so many burns. The most horrifying is on one of his thighs, the muscle and skin deformed where it was burned deep; Binghe has seen kitchen accidents before and this has the look of boiling oil, but it's position and size both speak of intentionality. He can't even imagine what shizun has done to be injured there, so close to an intimate area.

And the crowning jewel of all scars, the one that raises the most questions in Binghe's mind, is the slave brand. Qiu, it reads on the left side of his chest, still clearly legible despite obvious signs that someone tried to ruin it with deep cuts; the character just ate even deeper into the flesh to retain its shape.

He's standing in front of the bronze mirror, staring numbly at the brand while the water goes cold next to him, only snapping out of his stupor when the front door slams open, then closed, then his shizun calls for him. "In here, shizun!"

Shen Qingqiu is in a good mood - the body he's in is strong and healthy, despite everything, and unlike that dolt of a little beast, he knows exactly how to get out of chores - so he doesn't immediately snap at Binghe when he finds him inspecting his body. "It would have been too much of a blessing to expect you to not undress and poke at my flesh the moment you were left alone."

"I just wanted a bath." The face he currently wears doesn't lend itself to his usual tactics, so he simply... doesn't try. It makes him much more tolerable in Shen Qingqiu's eyes. "Begging shizun's forgiveness, I expected him to take longer with this disciple's daily chores."

"Unlike you, I don't have the personality of a doormat. I've done the chores for you and Yingying and then tricked one of your shixiongs into insulting Ming Fan, so he got saddled with the rest." He says it like it's the easiest thing in the world and there's a disapproving edge to it. See, little beast? His eyes say. Why don't you do it this way, it's so easy.

"I don't know what shizun expects from me," Binghe finally says, his frustrations overflowing. "I want nothing more than to cultivate in peace! I used every trick I have ever learned to make the bullies go away, but it only made things worse!" He claws at the slave mark, as if he could rip it from the skin and hand it to Shen Qingqiu. "I thought shizun to be a rich master who would not understand, but shizun has come from a background as lowly as this one's! Shizun should understand! Shizun should-!"

"Shut up. You don't know anything about me." There is no real anger in those words, but Binghe immediately shuts up. Shen Qingqiu regards him with something calculating, until he finally comes to a decision of sorts. He closes his eyes, schools his features and when he opens them again the picture of innocence looks up at Binghe, a harmless white sheep who could do no harm.

It's almost as good as when Binghe does it.

"What did you say your mother's job was?" The moment is gone and Shen Qingqiu arranges his features back into something more comfortable and Binghe, still reeling, answers on autopilot.

"This one's elderly mother was a lowly washerwoman."

"An elderly woman, of a low, but stable position, with no ambitions left in life and no power to protect her son." Shen Qingqiu exhales slowly. "She taught you to smile, hasn't she? To be good and docile to avoid trouble."

"Yes!" Finally, it feels like they are going somewhere, they have found common ground. "My mother taught me that no matter what grief or grudge settles in my heart, I should always-"

"Have a smile for the master," Shen Qingqiu finishes for him. He looks annoyed, but not angry - at least not at Binghe. "Go take that bath." He reheats the water with the touch of his hand and a careful application of qi. "This master has essays to grade."

The hot water is a blessing, but Binghe still hurries to get clean and get dressed again. Shizun, true to his word, is grading essays at the table when Binghe returns. Binghe fidgets with nothing to do while his shizun works, so eventually Shen Qingqiu chases him off to make tea so he can work in peace.

Binghe is just returning when the sect leader arrives. "Qingqiu-shidi, Luo-shizi. I hope everything is going all right so far?"

"Good timing," Shen Qingqiu looks up from the essays with a wolfish expression that makes Binghe's face look almost scary. "Qi-ge, think fast: smile for the master-"

"-Snarl for the wolves-" Yue Qingyuan answers without thinking, something sharp and dark glinting in his usually soft eyes. This minute slip in his mask scares Binghe more than the worst of his shizun's temper.

"-knife for the rivals." Unexpectedly, Shang Qinghua pops his head out from behind the wide bulk of the sect leader. "Why are we reciting the Urchins' Laws?"

Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes at his shidi. "Where this one grew up we said rocks for the rivals, but the sentiment is the same." He gestures for Binghe, who stands frozen in Shen Qingqiu's body, to serve the tea. "What is Shang-shidi doing here?"

"I might have, ah. Overheard? Overheard the situation and I might know an herb that can remedy it. Liu Qingge is already on his way to get it, so it's only a matter of days!" He rubs the back of his neck. "I just wanted to be here when zhangmen-shixiong tells shixiong the good news."

"That's acceptable." Shen Qingqiu takes a sip from his tea, then pushes the essays away in favor of an empty sheet. "Then Shang-shidi can stay and help us remedy a serious shortcoming in disciple Luo's education. It would seem he only learned to smile and never to snarl, leaving him with the appearance of an unfortunately spineless disposition."

"I see." All three adults look at Luo Binghe with pity, even the one currently wearing his body. He takes a big gulp of his tea to get away from their staring and almost chokes from the overwhelming bitter taste.

"It's fine, shizi! I think there are no better people to teach disciple Luo these lessons, so he will learn them in no time!" Shang Qinghua hurries to reassure him.

"That's not- thanking shishu for his encouraging words! It's just this tea is unexpectedly bitter."

The lords all look puzzled. "Bitter? Has Shen-shidi acquired a new blend?"

"As if you could tell," Shen Qingqiu huffs dismissively and takes another sip of his tea. "I don't taste anything wrong with it."

They all turn to Shang Qinghua, who takes a sip and immediately makes a noise of disgust.

"It's been severely over-steeped," he declares, pushing the cup away.

"Interesting." Shen Qingqiu drinks the rest of his tea and shakes his head. "Disciple Luo can't taste bitterness, so he doesn't know when he over steeps the tea."

"This one can taste bitterness, shizun! Mu-shishu's cold medicine-"

"-doesn't count. Even zhangmen-shixiong can tell it's bitter and he has almost completely lost his sense of taste when we were children."

The sect leader has a soft, awkward look on his face and Shang Qinghua stifles a laugh behind his sleeve. "Can confirm! Yue-shixiong once drank an entire undiluted bottle of chili oil on a bet when we were disciples. Luo-shizi is in good company."

Good company indeed. It's strange and a little frightening to see the three untouchable immortal masters acting so human, but Binghe rubs the scar on his face and thinks of masks. The same way Binghe puts on the mask of a meek little lamb every morning, the peak lords put on their own masks each day.

In the fifteen days it takes for Liu-shishu to get the herbs and return, they teach Binghe how to navigate the power plays of the sect in the way only those not born into power know:

A smile for the master (be pleasant and meek and uninteresting in the face of those who can hurt you without consequence, because it's boring to bully docile and uninteresting servants. Bide your time and only plot where they can't see it).

Yue Qingyuan smiles, because he has risen above the rest. Nobody would dare to trample him, so he can wear a smile if he wants; it makes him more approachable. Luo Binghe smiles at him and the sect leader winks back; this comes the easiest to him.

A snarl for the wolves (do not let your peers trample you. You are roughly of equal standing and power, so fight for what you deserve. If someone with only slightly higher standing tries to strike against you and you can get away with it, bite the hand that struck you, so they would think twice before they try again).

Shen Qingqiu was born a wolf and will likely die one, too broken and battered to become a prized, pampered hound. He snarls at the world and wants Binghe to snarl back at him, to show him that he has the determination to make it through. (Urchins who don't learn to bare their teeth when they should all die, trampled in the dirt, and Binghe suspects that his shizun has seen it happen enough times that he has hardened his heart against it.) It comes frighteningly easy, once he tries, and he makes sure to restrain himself so he doesn't become a mirror of his bitter shizun.

A knife for the rivals (be ruthless and deadly to the outsiders who come to harm you and yours. Set aside internal strife in the face of outside threat and sharpen your fangs together; the only good enemy is a dead one).

Binghe doesn't know what to think of Shang Qinghua at first. The An Ding lord has his own flavor of pathetic (it's not quite the same as smiling, he thinks), but Binghe is not a fool. If the sect leader is the smile and his shizun the snarl, then Shang Qinghua is the knife, and his cultivated helplessness is the perfect disguise for his sharp edge.

Out of all three of them, he decides that Shang Qinghua scares him the most.

The day after they are switched back Luo Binghe returns to the bamboo house to report to his shizun.

"So early today, little beast." Shen Qingqiu doesn't look up from the novel he's reading, sprawled carelessly over the couch. Binghe knows that this crack in his shizun's peerless facade is only there for him to see because he has lived in his body for two weeks and knows exactly how much agony he is in day in day out (Binghe did some much less dignified sprawling when he was wearing that body, that's for sure), but it still makes him feel honored, in a way. He's in on a secret none of the other disciples are and it makes him feel... special.

"Ming-shixiong had an unfortunate incident with a hive of wasps and forgot to assign his shidis extra chores."

Shen Qingqiu glances at him over the edge of his book. "Where in the hells have you found wasps this time of the year?"

"I could not say. Shizun will have to ask Shang-shishu."

The set of Shen Qingqiu's mouth shifts. It's not a smile, but it's as close as the man gets and Luo Binghe's heart soars when he sees it. His shizun stands with mesmerizing feline grace and plucks a manual off from his shelf. "Catch." Binghe scrambles to catch the manual, his eyes going wide when he recognizes his shizun's calligraphy. The book is bound in an old cover to make it look used, but the pages and the contents are all brand new. "This master has noticed that disciple Luo's current manual is unsuitable for his cultivation. This one will be a better fit."

"Thank you, shizun!" He turns to walk into the side room, planning to pretend that he belongs here ('sometimes if you are confident enough, you can make others think that you belong somewhere you have no business being', Shang Qinghua said), but he stops dead when his shizun calls after him.

"Where do you think you are going, little beast?"

"To my room, shizun." He brazenly meets Shen Qingqiu's narrowed eyes and carefully gauges the man's mood. He's not angry yet. "This disciple has no place in the dorms, but he got to thinking: wouldn't it reflect badly on our peak and our peak lord if word got out that one of the Qing Jing disciples sleeps in the woodshed? This one is not a man, so he thought shizun would have no opposition against him taking the unused side room in exchange for performing extra chores around the house."

Shen Qingqiu approaches him with an aura like a fierce storm, but Luo Binghe stands his ground. The man wanted him to snarl back; it was time to test the practice of that theory.

"Luo Binghe has done a lot of thinking in the day since we last met."

"Of course. This disciple had years of thoughtlessness to make up for."

Shen Qingqiu exhales sharply; a silent laugh. "Luo Binghe might not be a man yet, but he will grow up to be one. Why should I tolerate his presence?"

"This one might become a man, but only if shizun can't mold him into something better."

"Insolent little beast!" He expects the smack with the fan. It smarts like always and it's likely going to leave a bruise. He doesn't expect the hand on his head, not petting, but... acknowledging. "Go to your room."

Binghe can't restrain the smile that spreads over his face. It earns him another smack, lighter this time, but it's worth it. He sets the new manual down on the bed and starts brewing tea for his shizun, lighting a timer talisman so he doesn't seep the leaves too long.

It took him to walk a mile in his shizun's boots in the most convoluted way possible, but he has finally done it: he found common ground with his master. It could only get better from now.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Broken Circuits

Logan Sargeant x Fem!Reader , Oscar Piatri x Fem!reader, Logan Sargeant x Oscar Piastri

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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The paddock was alive with the familiar buzz of anticipation as mechanics made last-minute adjustments and engineers hunched over their laptops, analyzing data. It was a scene I had grown accustomed to, yet today, the excitement felt like a distant echo. Logan had been struggling all season, and with each race, his frustration had grown.

Standing by the Williams garage, I watched as Logan stepped out of the car after qualifying. His face was a mask of disappointment, and I knew from the slump of his shoulders that he had once again qualified last. My heart ached for him. He had worked so hard, dedicated every ounce of his energy to this sport he loved, and yet, the results just weren't coming.

"Hey," I said softly as he approached. "You'll get them next time. I believe in you."

He didn't respond, just walked past me with a curt nod. I followed him, trying to offer some comfort. "Logan, please talk to me."

He spun around, eyes flashing with anger. "What do you want me to say, Y/N? That I'm fine? That it's okay? Because it's not! I'm sick of losing!"

I took a step back, shocked by the intensity of his outburst. "I know it's hard, but I'm here for you. We'll get through this together."

He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "You don't get it, do you? I don't need you to tell me it'll be okay. I need results. I need to stop being a joke on this grid."

"You're not a joke," I insisted, reaching out to touch his arm. He pulled away, the hurt in his eyes cutting me to the core.

"Just leave me alone, Y/N. I can't deal with this right now," he snapped.

I felt a lump form in my throat, tears stinging my eyes. "Logan, please don't shut me out. I love you, and I want to help."

"Help? How can you help?" His voice was rising, drawing the attention of a few team members nearby. "You can't make me faster. You can't change anything. Just stop trying to fix this!"

His words hit me like a physical blow, and I felt my vision blur as tears finally spilled over. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I just want to be here for you."

Logan's face softened for a moment, but then the anger returned. "You know what? Maybe you're the problem. Every time you're here, I don't get good results. Maybe you're bad luck."

The words hung in the air, heavy and painful. I couldn't believe he had just said that. "Logan, you don't mean that."

"Maybe I do," he said coldly. "Maybe I regret ever giving you a chance. Maybe I hate you. Maybe we should just break up."

I stood there, stunned, as he walked away. My heart shattered into pieces, the pain of his rejection overwhelming. I turned and walked away, the tears streaming down my face. I found a quiet corner near the back of the paddock, sinking to the ground and hugging my knees to my chest. The sounds of the busy racetrack faded into the background as I let myself cry, the hurt and confusion washing over me.

"Y/N?" a familiar voice called softly. I looked up to see Oscar standing there, his expression filled with concern.

"Oscar," I managed to say through my tears. "He said... he said he regrets ever giving me a chance. He said he hates me and... he broke up with me."

Oscar knelt beside me, pulling me into a comforting hug. "He doesn't mean it, Y/N. Logan's just frustrated. He's under so much pressure, and he's taking it out on the person he cares about the most."

"But it hurts," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I thought we were a team."

"You are," Oscar said gently. "When you're not around, Logan's always wishing you were. He loves you, Y/N. He's just lost right now."

We sat there in the fading light, Oscar's presence a small comfort in the midst of my heartbreak. After a while, he stood up, offering me his hand. "Come on, let's get you somewhere more comfortable."

I nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead me away. As we walked, I saw Logan in the distance, his expression conflicted. Oscar's grip on my hand tightened as we passed him, a silent promise that he would take care of me.

Later that evening, as the paddock quieted down, Oscar found Logan in the team's hospitality area. "We need to talk," he said firmly, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced by a steely resolve.

Logan looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and filled with regret. "Oscar, I—"

"No," Oscar interrupted. "You don't get to apologize to me. You need to fix this with Y/N. You hurt her, Logan. You pushed away the one person who's always been there for you."

Logan hung his head, the weight of his actions crashing down on him. "I know. I was an idiot. I let my frustration get the better of me, and I took it out on her. I need to make it right."

"You do," Oscar agreed. "But it's not going to be easy. She's really hurt, Logan. You're going to have to work hard to earn her trust back."

Logan nodded, determination replacing the regret in his eyes. "I will. I'll do whatever it takes."

The next day, I was in my hotel room, still trying to process everything that had happened, when there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Logan standing there, looking more vulnerable than I had ever seen him.

"Y/N," he began, his voice shaking. "I'm so sorry. I was wrong. I never should have said those things. I don't hate you. I love you more than anything."

I looked at him, the pain still fresh in my heart. "Logan, you really hurt me. I don't know if I can just forgive you like that."

"I understand," he said, taking a step closer. "But please, give me a chance to make it right. I promise I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back."

I hesitated, the memories of his hurtful words still lingering. But I also remembered the good times, the love and support we had shared. "Okay," I said finally. "I'll give you a chance. But you have to prove to me that you mean it. You have to earn my trust back."

Logan nodded, his eyes filled with determination. "I will, Y/N. I promise."

As we stood there, the weight of the past few days slowly lifting, I realized that love wasn't always easy. It was messy and complicated, filled with highs and lows. But as long as we were willing to fight for it, to work through the pain and come out stronger on the other side, it was worth it.

---

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[snapeaddict]

A teacher's trick

For @mmad-lover <3

"I must say, I was quite surprised. The level of precision was that of a third-year; and it was brewed by an average student at best, Miss Ladislaw. Clearly, the discussion we had two weeks ago made a lasting impression. The girl has potential, and it pains me to admit it as I usually have a keen nose for those students with probable skills - I shall keep a close eye on her."

Minerva smirked slightly, although her expression also had something of that motherly fondness one finds in older people's faces as they listen to naive statements from their younger counterparts. That particular smile did not last long, however. She knew Severus would not appreciate what he would qualify as a "patronising attitude" - or what was it that he had said last time? - "ageist condescension". She had not taken it well; then Albus had looked at her with the very same expression, and told her she should know better than to lecture someone who was no longer a student. His amused eyes above the half-moon glasses, the slightly raised eyebrows... yes, Severus might have had a point after all. He was 24 already...

"And what is it that you told Miss Ladislaw two weeks ago?" she asked, her tone as neutral as could be.  

The Potions Master slightly shrugged his shoulders.  

"Merely that I thought she could achieve a satisfactory grade if she applied herself, and that her needing to work harder than some of her classmates for the same results should not hinder her from trying."

Minerva smiled again, then immediately took a sip from her teacup to hide it, pursing her lips.  

"Well, it makes perfect sense." She couldn't help herself.

Severus raised an eyebrow.  

"You told the girl you believed she could do well. You might as well have given that kind of student a bottle of Felix Felicis - it yields the same results."

"We are talking about a student who successfully brewed a Wiggenweld potion, not a Draught of Living Death."

"You understand my meaning."

Severus sighed, although he bowed his head slightly.

"We cannot go about telling every student such things hoping it will be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I would not have said it to half of them. If I had, it would not have been more than a white lie. All I can do is make sure they pass - I am no miracle worker."

"Oh, I don't know. It seems to be exactly what those new educative methods are about... you know, from the last board meeting. I thought..." She stared at him, then looked away, lowering her eyes. "I thought I could certainly incorporate some of them into my teaching. Be a bit more mindful. I am rather old-school, I'm afraid."

Severus kept looking at her. Then he simply replied, well after she had averted her gaze:

"We cannot be parents, Professor."

Minerva wondered if his momentary defeated expression had more to do with the immensity of the task at hand - to work at Hogwarts, one had better not gauge the assignment too closely - or with his own mixed feelings towards teaching. She thought it a little paradoxical how unforgiving he was with regard to academics, while he would go out of his way to try and fix things he could never fix, like broken homes and intra-student hierarchy. He was, it had to be said, an unforgiving teacher and a surprisingly supportive Head of House; Albus would certainly provide a satisfactory analysis for such behaviour, although a little too Lacanian to her liking.  

She poured him another cup of tea, which he accepted with a slightly embarrassed nod of the head. The friendliness between them was new and ever fragile. In its present state, it was a succession of extended hands quickly taken away when glares of suspicion, or the occasional snide remark, emerged again.

But she was trying, truly. This evening, she had originally planned, was to further their mutually beneficial relationship.

"You should not be so reluctant to make use of that Pygmalion effect, you know, Severus. It did yield great results with you."

He stared at her, looking genuinely surprised.  

"With me?" he repeated, the intonation quite unlike him.  

"If you recall, you were not very fond of Transfiguration as a boy."

"I shall make no comment on the subject."

His voice was rather cold.  

"You need not justify yourself", Minerva replied gently. This time, she held his gaze. "I know you had your reasons, all of them justified."

You did not feel safe, she wanted to add, but she said nothing. As usual, another thought rushed to complete the former - does that justify anything?  

She knew he would never claim that it did; although they had never brushed the subject, Albus had made no indication that the boy made any connection at all between the bullying, and his joining You-Know-Who. No, it was her; she made a connection. She saw a pattern, some kind of single path he was made to follow, perhaps a personal failure. It was in her nature to self-scrutinise when and only when she formed a bound - empathy enabled introspection as readily as dislike blinded her to any conclusions she might have previously drawn.

She was startled when he spoke:

"Not all of them, no."

She looked at him confusedly.  

"I beg your pardon?"  

"Not all my reasons for disliking Transfiguration were sound", Severus elaborated, smirking slightly.

She stared at him for a second. It was as if he had guessed...?  

"It was too much like muggle magic", he continued, purposely ignoring her expression. "Put a poor rabbit in a black hat; it is transformed into a dove. The coin disappears and reappears. You pull out metres of tissue from the magician's pocket. It seemed to me this was all that this was - magic tricks."

This time, Minerva was fully shaken out of her daze. She looked frankly scandalised.

"Magic tricks!" she repeated, her right hand on her heart. "Tricks!"  

Severus seemed to enjoy her half-genuine, half-theatrical display of indignation. He continued, sipping his tea with exaggerated nonchalance:

"I thought it horrendously inelegant. Turning animals into glassware while we brewed potions the colour of the starry sky... While we learnt to bottle things without essence... "

"I beg your pardon, no matter how you put it, it still is soup you are making down there", she cut sharply.

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes. "Now, Professor, you do not want me as your enemy", he said slowly, putting down his cup in the middle of the English porcelain before him.  

"Oh, but I do", Minerva replied in a syrupy tone. She put down her own cup with every bit of nonchalance he had just displayed. "Potions are just large soups. That is, boiling water with things you put inside of it."

"Transfiguration is but a distraction for children at a garden birthday party."

"... While their parents bake the birthday cake by throwing ingredients into a big bowl in the right order, which is what you do, if I am not mistaken."

Severus raised his eyebrows, now looking amused and somewhat surprised. He thought of a few bitting comebacks - some that he would not have shied away from using a few years later - but hesitated for a second. This was, after all, still his former professor...  

"Well, Severus? I am sure you of all people have a witty reply to offer. You are a man of many talents."

This was enough to stimulate a formidable combination of those replies he was pondering upon - something to do with Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, its first principle, the impossibility of conjuring up food, the birthday cake, screaming children, ethical considerations about vanishing said children, and a muffling draught. He was about to speak; then, Minerva's words reached him fully. "You are a man of many talents."

He closed his mouth, smiled slightly, then nodded, all without a word.  

You are a boy of many talents, Severus. Be sure to remember this next class.  

"Pygmalion effect", Minerva said, leaning back in her seat. She clasped her fingers, smiling pensively. "You did so well that next Monday. You transformed that match into such a beautiful flower - truly the most remarkable one I had ever seen. I brought it to Pomona, I remember. She said it looked like a Lotus, Bleeding Heart, and Edelweiss had been bred together; it did not exist. It was a pure product of your imagination."

Severus frowned, although more from concentration than annoyance.  

"I barely remember".  

"You got an O. I cannot tell you how frustrated I was that you only got an E for your O.W.Ls. The only one! Nine 'Outstandings' in all other subjects!"  

Severus gave her an ironic look.  

"I am sorry to have disappointed".  

She rolled her eyes. "Do not put words into my mouth. Look", she added, getting up and circumventing her armchair, "I even took a picture."

She pulled out a drawer from the nearby buffet, then searched through its content for a few seconds, smoothly retrieving a mid-size, cardboard-like paper which she handed to him. Carefully, Severus lowered it down on his knees.

On the top right corner, in green ink, the words "Mr Snape - 1972" were written in the neat, strict handwriting that he had known since his first year, although usually in red. Somewhat clumsily this time - for whatever reason - he turned the paper over. It was, indeed, a picture: that of the flower he vaguely remembered, but now could study plainly, with its long petals and queer tear-shaped extensions right at their extremities. It looked more alien than beautiful, but that was not what his mind was occupied with. Rather, his black eyes scrutinised the background in the picture, clearly that of Minerva's personal desk, which had not changed much since then. His eyes went from the picture to the desk, dimly lit by a few candles at this time of the evening.  

"I wish it could have lasted longer", Minerva said softly, still standing by his side. She had followed his gaze. "It is one of the tragedies of transfiguration - nothing lasts forever."

For a few moments, Severus could not speak. Minerva put a hand on the back of his armchair, looking at him expectantly.

With difficulty, he gathered himself, and finally cleared his throat.  

"I was merely thinking... thinking that if you were to cast a combination of Epoximise and Orchideous spells, and I to brew an Elixir and Revigorating Draught, all of this put to use at regular intervals - it could potentially keep such a flower intact."

Minerva raised her eyebrows, her interest fully sparked. She turned around, searched through the buffet drawer once more, and placed a match in front of him. Her wand was out.

"Brilliant, Severus. What do you say I perform some tricks, and you bring over some soup, so that I can give you another O?

[20dollarlolita]

I've just got to vent for a quick second, because this has been driving me insane. I work at a place that sells sewing machines and does sewing machine repair, and sometimes people will come in and aggressively complain that their machine is a lemon.

Sorry, to properly convey it, their machine is, "A LEMON!!!"

And I can't respond to that the way I want to when I'm at work, but that's what this rant is for. People seem to think they've found some amazing, special secret word that gets them whatever they want.

But, in the state that I'm in, "lemon" isn't just a concept. When something is a lemon, there's laws governing what people have to do to make things right. In terms of products (not to be confused with terms of produce), there is a legal definition of what a lemon is, and it actually doesn't cover most "this is a lemon!!" situations that I run into.

So, what needs to happen to qualify a sewing machine as a lemon? Disclaimer, I'm not a lawyer, but I've been sued before, and told I look good in a suit, and also I use Duckduckgo to verify things before I write these things. I'm going to go a bit out of order here, because it's an order that makes the most sense to me, so please read all this before writing back to me to tell me I'm stupid.

What problems make something qualify as a lemon?

Is has to be a problem that compromises the use, value, or safety of the machine. If you can't make an argument that your problem interferes with one of those three things, it's not a lemon.

It has to be a problem that is covered under the manufacturer's warranty, and the problem has to show up during the time that the warranty covers the machine. If your warranty was 1 year on this part and the problem showed up at 1.75 years, it's broken and needs fixing, but it's not a lemon.

It cannot be caused by unreasonable or unauthorized use. Sorry, your manufacturer does not consider you sewing sliced ham to a piece of 20 gauge vinyl to be a reasonable use. Putting 2 million stitches on a machine in 6 months is not a reasonable use. Letting your cat use your machine in lieu of a litter box is not reasonable use. Storing trail mix in your bobbin area is not reasonable use.

In addition to these three things, it needs to have repeat attempts to repair it. That's four repairs of the same problem, or two repairs of a problem if it's a problem that can cause death or serious injury. I challenge most people to find a problem that can cause death or serious injury in a modern sewing machine used in a reasonable, authorized way. Anyway, moving on. The item in question also needs to be in for repair for 30 days, though those do not need to be continuous days.

It also doesn't matter how many different problems the machine has. It's got to be the same problem, unable to be fixed, repeatedly, to qualify as a lemon. If you have thirty problems that all have been failed to be fixed 3 times, legally, not a lemon. If you have over 900 problems that have all happened one time, sadly, not a lemon. This is probably one of the things people get wrong most of the time.

If your device fills all of these categories (serious problem, under warranty, no unreasonable use of the machine, repeated attemtps to repair the same problem), then the manufacturer needs to replace it or offer you a refund. Your dealer and your repair shop have no responsibility, except to put you in contact with the manufacturer. Your dealer does not replace your machine. Your dealer does not refund you. Your repair shop does not refund you. The manufacturer is responsible. This doesn't mean that a good dealer won't help you with talking with the manufacturer or even speak to the manufacturer on your behalf. It's just that the dealer is not legally responsible for it. "Legally responsible" and "being helpful because that's good customer service and we want to help you," are distinct concepts.

If your machine is replaced, and you have new problems with the new one, you have to fulfill the lemon requirements again. Four more repair attempts, problem under warranty, no unreasonable use, etc. The fact that the previous item was a lemon doesn't actually matter anymore, legally. That's annoying as hell and massively painful and I'm sorry about that, but it's the fact. If you got a new machine and it immediately had the same problem, I'm sorry, but it has to be failed to be fixed four times on your new machine before you get to proceed with the lemon shit again.

Oh, and the number one reason why sewing machines bought into my work, labeled "lemon!!" by their owners, are not actually legally lemons: in the State of California, lemon laws only apply to cars. I've been carefully saying "machine" instead of "sewing machine," because literally nothing that we've talked about applies to sewing machines at all.

So if you come in and say it's a lemon, because you want to communicate that you're very frustrated by a lot of problems out of the box, we know what you mean. But if you're doing what a lot of these people are doing, which is coming in brandishing the word "lemon," because you're thinly veiling a threat to pursue legal action, sorry, you just don't have a legally-defined lemon.

And also, again, if the lemon laws DID apply to sewing machines, lemon issues are done with the manufacturer, not your dealer or your repair shop. We're going to do everything we can to help you, because we're above all in the customer service business, but you don't need to try to threaten us with laws that don't apply.

[whumpbug]

this little fic is heavily heavily inspired by this post from @whump-kia because i just couldnt get the idea out of my silly brain so i brain vomited onto my notes app

context →

kinda sorta wilderness/sci-fi/apocolypse setting.. it honestly could go all ways but the important factors are 1) they are in a team 2) there are enemies they are on the run from and 3) there isnt really magic healing or anything available

i wrote it as medic kinda being the most competent one in general while leader and teammate are frazzled as hell at the situation and could be read as newer to the team but that isn't necessarily my intention!

whumpee: Medic

caretaker(s): Leader and Teammate

[all characters gender neutral]

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

The room fell silent. All eyes were suddenly trained on Medic who threw open the door and staggered in.

With a dagger wedged in their side.

The team had been on the run from enemies for the better part of a week now. Even though they weren't completely in the clear, the team was completely worn out. They all needed a good rest.

They were setting up camp at one of their many bases, and Medic offered to scout the area alone. Leader honestly didn’t think it was a good idea, but they were too preoccupied to think to argue it further.

Now, they sincerely wished they had.

“Medic.. oh god, oh god” whispered Teammate.

“Ambush,” They explained. “It’s.. it’s okay, I took care of it..” Medic replied cooly, but the color was quickly draining from their face. Teammate frowned and continued questioning them, but Leader heard none of it.

Leader took a shaky breath, but their feet were planted. They couldn’t move. They were frozen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No, Medic was untouchable. Medic was steadfast and reliable, always there when the team needed them.

Medic wasn’t supposed to go out like this. Medic wasn’t supposed to get hurt.

Leader’s breathing hitched again. Their head was reeling. What were they going to do?! No one on the team was qualified to fix this other than the person dripping blood all over the floor, yet it was still Leader’s job to do something. It was too much, it was too—

“Leader.”

Medic’s voice cut through the room like a knife through butter.

“I need you to listen to me. Carefully. Can you do that?”

Leader swallowed the lump in their throat. They nodded.

Medic took another step forward, only for their foot to catch on the ground, sending them stumbling forward. Teammate caught them by the upper arm and unceremoniously lowered them to the ground.

“Alright,” Medic began. Their face was scrunched up in pain. “Leader. I’m going to walk you through how to fix this, okay? I'm going to be fine.”

“Right. Right, I can help you.. just- just tell me what to do.” Leader said, forcing their voice to remain steady.

“Do you see that fire poker over there? I’m going to need you to grab it and stick the end of it into the fire. We want it to get really hot, okay?” Medic explained methodically.

If it weren’t for the blade sticking out of Medic’s middle, you’d think there was nothing even wrong with them. They seemed like everything was under control. They really seemed fine.

But not to their team.

No, their team didn’t miss Medic’s pallor, the way their eyebrows were pinched together, the way the sweat was beading on their brow. Their team didn’t miss the way their hands were trembling, the way their gaze was glassy, and the way they were slumped against the wall, seemingly sapped of their strength.

Medic was fighting to hold on, but it was a losing battle. They really didn’t have much time before they passed out from blood loss, or worse.

Leader’s resolve came back to them all at once. They nodded sharply and did as they were told, sticking the poker into the fire and leaving it on the hearth. While the team waited anxiously for the poker to heat up, Leader took the opportunity to adjust Medic into a more comfortable position against the wall. This earned a strangled grunt from Medic.

“Okay, Leader.. this.. this is important. Once that poker gets red-hot, you’re.. you’re going to have to pull out the blade from my wound and cauterize it.. immediately.” They choked out, shifting to give Leader a better view of their abdomen.

Leader’s face blanched.

“Cauterize?? Why not sutures? Surely that’s less painful,” Leader protested, only to be shushed by Medic raising their hand.

“I don’t have.. I can’t stay awake to walk you through that.. cau.. cauterization is.. quicker..”

Leader could tell Medic was reaching their limit. The wound, despite being partially plugged by the dagger, had been steadily dripping blood for a while now. Leader could tell by the way Medic’s voice was faltering and the way their shoulders were drooping that they were utterly spent. They had to hurry up.

Leader glanced at the fire poker, and upon seeing it burning hot, they grabbed a towel and picked it up.

“Alright. What’s next.”

Medic steeled their nerves and spoke.

“You and Teamate will have to work together. Leader, you’ll.. you’ll need to pull out the dagger and immediately press the poker along th.. the wound.. As soon as you pull it out, it’s going to start bleeding even faster.. you need to seal it immediately, just until the bleeding stops..”

Leader nods, though they hate this with every fiber of their being. They’ve never had to have had a wound cauterized before, thanks to Medic’s dilligency. Still, they know the procedure is agonizing and not one they are thrilled to perform on Medic.

Medic gaze flits to Teammate.

“You.. you have a very important job.. I need.. I’m gonna need you to hold me down. As soon as that metal hits my skin, I’m going to scream. I mean really scream. I’m also going to jerk away. I need you to hold me down, no.. no matter what happens, even if I pass out, so Leader doesn’t end up making the wound worse. Can you do that?”

Teammate frowns, but gives a quick nod. Teammate was always more timid, but now, in this moment, their jaw was set and there was a determined glint in their eyes. By God, they were going to help Medic.

Leader got up and sat on Medic’s legs to restrain them, and held the fire poker at their side. Using their free hand they gently grasped the handle of the blade sticking out of Medic, careful not to jostle it in the wound. Still, Medic inhaled sharply.

Teammate got behind Medic looping their arms behind theirs and holding them tight.

“Alright.. just.. just give me a count down..” Medic said, their voice low.

Leader nodded.

“3.”

Medic sucked in a breath.

“2.”

Teammate tightened their grip.

“1.”

Everything that happened after that countdown couldn’t have been more than 10 seconds, but to Medic, it felt like 10 years.

As soon as the dagger was removed, Leader pressed the hot metal into the wound. The guttural scream that tore from Medic’s throat was nausea-inducing.

Immediately, every muscle in their body seized up as they violently thrashed against the white-hot pain. Medic’s sobs rang out through the entire facility. Everyone in the vicinity flinched at the sound.

Their Medic, their savior, was now reduced to gut-wrenching cries.

Leader adjusted themself to sit on Medic’s thighs, effectively immobilizing them.

Teammate had to yank Medic’s arms down, using all their strength to keep them still.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry..” Teammate whispered softly, tears blurring their vision.

Right as Leader was about to finish sealing the wound, Medic let out a gurgling gasp as their eyes rolled back into their head and they went limp.

“Medic? Hey, Medic?” Teammate mewled, lightly tapping their cheek.

Both Leader and Teammate finally loosened their grip on them and lowered Medic to the ground with as much care as they could muster.

“Hey, c’mon Medic.. wake up for us, yeah?” Leader coaxed, brushing a strand of hair from Medic’s eyes.

Medic’s eyelids finally fluttered open, but they looked utterly exhausted. Their face was streaked with sweat and there were tears tracks lining their pale cheeks. Still, they gave a weak smile.

“You.. you guys did great..” They managed, but not before their eyes slipped close yet again.

Both Leader and Teammate exchanged a laugh at how absurd it was that Medic was praising them for doing well. Still, the worst of it was over and everyone could breathe again. They knew they should get Medic up and into medbay, but they silently agreed to let Medic rest for a few moments longer.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[ashwhowrites]

Older! Steve x Reader, maybe she works at Steve's enterprise, maybe they're neighbours, idk, I'm interested in Older Steve and how reader and him met

I immediately ran with business Steve. I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it <3 thank you for requesting

The assistant

Steve Harrington became the businessman his father wanted. He took over his dad's company and now ran a business under his name. He dove into the work and forgot about the other parts of life. Parts of having a wife, kids, or even a pet.

He had no one to go home to, he spent all his hours at his office. Buried in his work and only contacted people on his work phone.

Then he hired an assistant, and everything changed.

~~~

Steve held countless interviews for an assistant. Looking through men and women, eyeing their experience, and praying he'd find someone to hire. He wasn't pulled by anyone and it frustrated him even more. His head in his papers when he heard a knock on his office door, he jumped up and his eyes locked on a woman. She stood nervously as she tugged down on her tight skirt.

"Am I too late? I'm here to apply for an assistant job!"

Steve couldn't remove his eyes from her. Her blazer hugged her in the right places and the skirt led his thoughts to run South. He coughed and stood up, fixing his tie.

"No, you're not too late!" Steve lied, eyes landing on the clock, knowing the interviews ended two hours ago. "Come sit, I'm Steve Harrington." His hand held out as she shook it. Her hands were soft and delicate. Fresh-painted nails and rings decorated her fingers. She had a firm grip and was confident.

"Y/F/N, it's a pleasure to meet you." She smiled, taking a seat across from him. Steve eyed her bare legs as she crossed them. She was qualified, and Steve was thankful for that.

~~~

After a few months of working together, Steve realized he liked her. He enjoyed her company, but he knew he liked her more than a friend, or even just as an assistant.

She was good at her job. She learned fast and proved her worth. Steve couldn't lose her great work ethic because he found himself attracted to her. He ignored it the best he could.

Until it was Christmas Eve and he was locked in his office. He gave his employees the day off, taking up all the work. He didn't have a family to go home to, but he knew his employees did. And they deserved to be with their families.

Steve refilled his third cup of coffee, walking back to his office to see Y/N sitting in the chair. A smile on her face, and a few brown bags on his desk. All his papers were neatly piled on the side.

"I knew you'd still be here." She sighed, standing up as she offered back his chair. Steve sat down confused as she took out the Chinese boxes.

"Correct, and now what are you doing here? The office has the holidays off." Steve explained she was new and maybe she didn't know that.

"You need to eat, and see that there's a world outside of these four walls, Mr. Harrington." She explained, passing him the food, and taking a seat across from him.

"You can call me Steve, after hours," he smiled, "but I'm fine. You should be with your family." Steve protested.

"I don't have one. I left town the second I could and came straight here." She explained, looking confused at the chopsticks as she tried to hold it correctly.

"Boyfriend at least?" Steve asked, reaching over to help her with the chopsticks. His soft hands covered hers as he showed her how to hold it. He ignored the electricity that shocked through his body and leaned back in his seat.

"Nope. I'm all alone, and I figured you would be too. From what I've seen, you never leave this office. And when you do, it's way too late to ever be going home to a family. You volunteered to do everyone's work so they could be with their families. I think we are in the same boat."

Steve knew she was right, and in a way, he felt comforted that he wasn't the only one.

"Yeah but it's different for you. You're young and have time to start your family. I'm in my 40s and not even close. I sorta gave up and picked work instead."

"I think there's someone for you. Just wait."

~~~

After that night, Steve allowed himself to be close to her. She stayed late for hours and talked with him as he worked. She brought him food, and they'd talk about their life. He talked about his past and owning his father's business. She talked about why she ran away and had no desire to see her family again.

They were both alone, but found something within each other.

On a Friday night, she brought whiskey to share. A smirk on her face as she slammed it on his desk. Many drinks later, their lips were locked as he had her on his desk. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she unbuttoned his shirt.

That's where it all started

~~~

Two years later, Steve finally found someone to go home to. Locking his office door right at five. He said goodbye to his employees as he reached the elevator.

"Tell the wife we say hi!" His assistant, Brittney said. Steve offered a friendly smile and agreed to share the greeting.

Steve smiled his whole way home, never getting over the excitement to walk through his new home and have her waiting for him.

"Welcome home, handsome." She greeted, her arms over his shoulder as she hugged him. Her pregnant stomach bumped between them as his hands landed on it softly. Rubbing her stomach as he pecked her lips.

"Merry Christmas Eve."

[marivoid]

Entry 25

Day 200

I think I nearly avoided death by not sticking around this guy.

While I was busy clearing out a gas station today, this guy popped out of nowhere! I swear on it! That gas station was as dead as dust and then he just shows up out of the blue! (Or brown? The sky doesn't exactly look blue really.)

He seemed decently friendly while I spoke to him. Rambling on about how he's completing these "Zedvancements" (I still haven't figured out what qualifies for one of those things) and that he needed help on this next one.

Then came the change in attitude.

"You know you could be a really useful person! It's just a second." It started off casual.

"No thank you."

"Come on man! I haven't seen anyone in what? Five, six days? My Zedvancements are boring without anyone to complete them with!" He got a bit louder around here.

"I am sorry but I really can't! I have to go speak to a man about a horse, you know? Can't dilly dally!"

That eye of his... He didn't seem all too happy when I told him no at that time.

(As I'm writing this down, I feel so stupid! He probably just wanted my head on a spike or something!)

"Who are you trying to meet with?" He had started to walk a circle around me then. Like I was prey (AND I SOMEHOW DIDN'T REALIZE. WAY TO GO PAST ME WHAT THE FUCK! WELCOME EVERYONE TO THE NUMBER ONE DUMBASS OF THE YEAR) "There can't be anyone that important that you can't stay a day or two!"

"Well, actually there is. I'm trying to find the Doctor!" And I had turned. Away. Just turned away and walked to the door like there wasn't a single damn in the world. "My arm here needs work to be done. Keeps glitching out!"

I distinctly remember just how shocked he was when I looked back at him. How that golden-yellow eye was fixed on me. How his weird pupil dilated several times over in just the span of seconds. He was getting angry and I hadn't known it at the time.

"You can't be serious! THE Doctor?? The madman?! Are you insane?"

"I am!" I had to of been stupid to keep talking to him, let alone to just crack open one of the last pop bottles that lingered on the shelves (I'm still fine as of writing this. I'm not hurting or sick because of that drink.) "He's the only one who can fix my arm. It's Watcher Tec and Admins were never trained on how to fix that kind of stuff."

"YOU'RE FROM A G.U.I.D.E?!" I swear to you his scream could have scared off a Night Stalker. "That's genuine Watcher Tec?? You have Old Metal??"

"I wouldn't call it that." I had let him see the complex steam system wiring up my arm to my stub. "It's titanium, not the stuff that the G.U.I.D.E.s were made from. And even then, good luck trying to pry that stuff off the walls. Once it's molded, it's stuck for good!"

I hadn't realized he had been staring at me like I was a fool. No, I was too busy chugging my soda. (Still really good by the way!)

"I know a couple of people that could melt it down." He had said oh so casually. (No I did not do a spit take here, shush.) "One's a few days South from here. The other, West. Find one of those guys and they'll help melt down some G.U.I.D.E. metal."

"I'll see what I can do for you. No promises though. Do you have a number or however these things work?"

Annnnd that's how I suddenly have three new contacts in my wrist thingy. (From here on out I'll just call it a Comm, since it's a Communication Device of a sorts, but not exactly like how those old phones worked back in the day.)

Person one (South) is called "The Demon" in my phone. I don't think that's a very trustworthy name, but it could be worse. The second one, however, is called "Heavy-Body Builder." What's a Heavy-Body Builder? Is it important? Dangerous?

And the third...

"Zedaph"

I'll have to make sure to contact that number as little as possible. Leave it alone unless absolutely necessary. That guy was NOT safe. But at least he showed me how to take photos on this thing. Got a reference for the journal though, so it was kind of worth almost dying.

Just got to find The Doctor.

-MLW

-G.U.I.D.E 67

[reyanfia]

the warrior and his healer — neteyam x reader ☄. *. ⋆➢ part one!

other chapters are up! read it here -> chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4

setting: awa'atlu, pandora

pairing: neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

warnings: nothing much in this part, but if we are talking about the entire series, mentions of bl00d, a bit of angst, teyam survives!

summary: the newcomer seems to enjoy your company! he seems to like what you do, too. let's hope nothing bad happens to your study buddy.

a/n: I actually requested this to @bonnibuckets, and they did great at writing it! but I wanted to try and write it myself. pls enjoy ^^ by the way, I'm replacing y/n with _____ because I personally find y/n weird to read. and yes, it is like loaksky's style, but I don't think it should be a problem. :)) a lot of the medicinal stuff in here is made up since little about healing is known in avatar.

"ah! here she is." tsireya smiled as she skipped into your marui, dragging the eldest sully boy from behind her.

you looked up from your papers, meeting eyes with them both. figuring she brought him to you to fix up some injuries, you placed your studying materials aside.

you hadn't acquainted yourself with any for the sully kids, but you have watched them train with tsireya, ao'nung and rotxo.

from your observations, you thought that the younger sully boy, lo'ak, was the first one who tsireya would bring into your marui for any injuries that had to be healed. it didn't cross your mind that the eldest would be hurt before him.

you weren't an official healer, to be exact. but you are training to be one. ronal, the tsahìk, had announced that due to the lack of healers in the village, she will be choosing a few more girls to help out the elders. but to be qualified to do so, they must have enough knowledge about medicine and healing.

tsireya dubbed you to be the best among the other girls, as to probably why she brought neteyam to you.

tsireya's beaming smile stayed on as she sat neteyam down in front of you. "here, he scuffed himself by the corals. would you mind patching him up, ______?"

you glanced at his bleeding forearm and back to her. "no, I don't mind." you gave her a small smile, which she enthusiastically returned before she ran off.

you then got up and went to your shelves. "i'd thought that your brother would come running in bleeding first," you stated as you grabbed the covered bowl of healing salve.

neteyam laughed. "well, he did get hurt. but it seems tsireya has taken him for herself to tend to."

you smiled, and though you were facing away from him, he could see it. "she has talked a lot about him the past few days. i've heard more about him than the firstborn son of toruk makto."

you set all the things you needed onto the floor. you sat where you previously were, preparing to tend to the cuts on the arm.

he felt his face warm when you said it. "you don't have to call me that," he could barely look into your eyes, something you found odd. you'd expected him to be a little more confident than his brother. seems the roles have switched.

"why not? i suspect people call you that all the time back in the forest." you dipped the cloth into the bowl of water, and started dabbing around the wound to clean it.

the boy before you winced. "ah— well, yeah. i guess it feels weird to have somebody new saying it to me." he replied, clearing his throat after.

you nodded. you also took notice of the abnormal rasp in his voice, possibly because of all the breath-holding and accidental swallowing of the ocean water.

after you finished cleaning the wound, you took a small amount of the healing salve. "this is going to feel a little cold," you warned, applying it onto the cuts. it only soothed the pain more. neteyam felt instant relief as you gently rubbed it into his azure skin, the sting immediately going away.

as you were busy tending to the injury, he sat still. but his eyes roamed and observed.

he watched your brows furrow in focus, your clean hand going up to your hair to tuck it behind your ear every now and then. he looked at the plants and scriptures you were studying, there was a pile of it by your right.

you reminded him of himself. hard-working and busy.

"what's all that?" he asked, pointing towards the pile of things. your head snapped up to him first, then to where he pointed. "oh that, it's uh— stuff that i need to know to become a healer. tsireya thinks im good at it — probably why she brought you to me."

neteyam glanced from your face, and down to your hands. you were done with the paste — you took a long strip of soft dried seaweed, wrapped it around the wound and secured it in place by expertly tucking the ends in.

"all done. better?" you released his arm, letting him have a look at your handiwork. "much better. tsireya may be right." you smiled at his indirect compliment, as to which he did back.

"maybe i should go now?" neteyam suggested. you were about to let him, but his voice reminded you about that medicine you needed to try out.

"oh! before you go, try this medicine that i made. it'll help with your hoarse voice."

you reached from behind him, revealing a large, curved flower petal that contained a golden-amber like liquid. "it matches his eyes." you thought as you handed it to him. he drank it.

it was surprisingly sweet, it tasted like what humans would call honey, and it alleviated the discomfort in his throat. "how is it? does your throat feel any better?"

he stared at the ground for a few seconds. how on pandora did you manage to come up with such a thing? it worked like a charm.

he nodded vigorously. "it's amazing. now tsireya was definitely right."

you laughed along with him, glad that the mixture you made helped.

you may have just made yourself a new friend.

— ☄. . ⋆✧ .

neteyam can feel kiri's eyes piercing through the side of his face. sighing, he turned to her. "kiri, did i do something wrong?"

she shrugged and looked to his wrapped wound. "you seem oddly happy."

he shook his head at her answer, lying down onto the marui floor. "hm. i wonder why."

and he knows exactly why.

it was calming being in your presence. tranquility was a stranger to him. with all the pressure and expectations, neteyam has not known a day of peace. no one he knew before gave him peace. except now that he's met you. that's fun.

kiri wasn't stupid though. copying him, she sighed. "I wasn't born last night neteyam. what's her name?"

he froze. he remembers tsireya mentioning your name when she dropped him off at your marui, but he forgot it. somehow.

"oh damn. I'm not sure. she's that girl that tsireya always hangs out with. we've seen them together a couple times—"

she cuts him off. "_____? the healer in training?" neteyam nodded against the marui floor, slightly scratching his head in the process. "yep. her."

kiri turns her head upwards, as if remembering how your face looked like. "hm. she's pretty. would be surprised if she liked you back though."

"oh cut it out, kiri." neteyam swatted at her arm. "I don't like her."

she rolled her eyes in response. "yeah well, not yet."

"who are we talking about?" both kiri and neteyam get hit by a blast of cold wind when lo'ak opened the marui entrance. "ah! there you are. had fun on your date with tsireya?" kiri teased, barely dodging whatever it was that lo'ak had thrown her way.

"shut up! it wasn't a date." neteyam couldn't see much while lying down, but he saw enough to catch a glimpse of his brother's blushing face. he chuckled to himself at his siblings continue to bicker.

and as eclipse settled in, he slowly fell asleep then, his last thought being about you.

©ronalsgirl

tagging: @azaleaniath @theycallmesia

those who request to be in the taglist under this chapter, will be tagged in the next one. thank you!

next part will be out soon :] [next part is out! check top of this post.]

[scrollonso]

First Kiss (Race 9)

A strollonso AU where 18 year old rookie Lance Stroll falls helplessly in love with the notoriously mean world champion. (1.1k words, no warnings) [@v3lnys @biancathecool] {I love that picture of lance,, he looks so cute mwah}

last part - masterlist - next part

Lance was so excited, he hadn't been back to Canada in so long it felt great to be back.

Lance got to the paddock with his dad, feeling like a little kid again as he walked next to him, it felt great outside. He was in a short sleeved Racing Point shirt, his hair having more body than usual as he walked and talked with his dad

"Are you confident in the car? I know this seasons been tough on you but we're always trying to improve the car for you and Nico."

"I am, Dad, I'm not sure what keeps going wrong. Maybe I'm not good enough yet?"

"Don't say that, Lance, I know you're good enough, it just takes some getting used to."

Lance nodded, his dad was probably right but he knew how people felt about him and with how he's performing he couldn't help but doubt himself. He just hoped that he'd at least finish his home race.

Qualifying came and went, he was embarrassed to see how he'd done. His mind hadn't been wandering like at the last Grand Prix so there was no reason for him to qualify 17th while Nico qualified 6th.

"I'm sorry" He said on the radio, Brad quick to tell him it was okay and they'd do better tomorrow, Lance was determined to do better tomorrow, he had to do decently considering the fact that now there were two Canadians on the grid so the crowd was practically split in half.

Lance hoped Brad was right, he was sick of feeling like he was letting his team down.

Fernando came over as usual to greet Lance, having qualified on pole (also as usual).

Lance was happy to see him, he was glad the Spaniard wasn't as busy as in England, he wondered if he would've done better had he not seemingly avoided him all weekend.

"Lancito! Is home race time" He sounded more excited than Lance, wrapping an arm around the taller boys shoulder

"You already had your home race, Nando" Lance teased, smiling down at the Spaniard

"Ay, we are friends no?" He asked, Lance nodding to confirm they were in fact friends "Exactly! Any home of a friends is a home of mine"

He rolled his eyes, trying to hold back a smile at the comment, he liked thinking about how him and Fernando were friends, being casually close like this made Lance's heart flutter. He adored being friends with the World Champion.

Lance was the first one to look for Fernando on the paddock the next day, finding him in the middle of an interview.

He tried to stay quiet as he crept up behind him, putting his finger to his lips to tell the interviewer to not say anything.

"...Si, the car is spectacular, little problems here and there but our engineers are always quick to fix all errors."

"Of course, now, let's ask the questions the fans really want to hear. Fernando, people are still wondering about you and the Racing Point driver, Lance Stroll's, relationship, anything to comment?"

"I adore Lance, we spend a lot of time together and he's truly brilliant, he'd be one of the best on the grid if he just had a car that could showcase his talent"

Lance couldn't help but smile, face flushing pink as he heard how the older man was praising him

"No need to flatter me, Nando" Lance laughed, speaking up and moving to stand next to Fernando

"Mi sol, when did you get here?" Fernando's face lit up, quick to pull the boy closer as he forced him into the interview, neither of them noticed how the womans face changed after hearing such an affectionate nickname be used so openly between the two drivers.

"I was gonna scare you but you were talking so nicely I felt bad" Lance smiled at Fernando, completely forgetting they were being filmed and the World Champion was in the middle of an interview.

"So mature, Lancito" Fernando rolled his eyes, not surprised at the boys actions

"I know, right?" Lance nodded, finally looking away from Fernando and to the interviewer "Right, I'll let you finish. Don't talk about me too much" Lance teased Fernando then nodded to the woman behind the camera and headed back to his garage, glad he wasn't the one being interviewed this time.

The race came and went, Lance managed to make up a good bit of places but just barely missed points, finishing in 12th.

He knew no one was upset with the outcome because anything is better than a DNF but not getting points at his home race hurt more than not finishing another race.

Fernando ended up winning, obviously, and Lance figured because "any home of a friends is a home of his" he should go watch the older man on the podium at his "home race."

Fernando had grown accustomed to seeing the Canadian under him while he was on the podium, knowing he was there managed to make the celebration better. Any time Lance was around he made everything better for Fernando, as if just his presence brought luck to the Spaniard.

As the Spanish anthem played he couldn't help but look down at Lance, smiling softly as the boy gazed up at him. The camera then cut to Lance, broadcasting the shared looks between the drivers for the whole world to see, it really is great to see drivers have such great sportsmanship.

Like clockwork Fernando made his way to Lance afterwards, pulling him into his arms "You did so good today, Lancito" He praised, proud of the rookie even if he didn't score points.

"You literally won, Nando" Lance laughed, pulling back to look at the World Champion

"I stayed in first basically the whole race, your overtakes were brilliant, mi sol" He gushed, having asked his engineer throughout the race to update him on the boys spot, as if Lance was a threat to him.

"Thank you, Nando, you're too kind."

"Do you want to go out with me?" The Spaniard asked suddenly, Lance becoming visibily shocked at the question

"Go out with you?"

"Si, you are hungry, no?" Fernando seemed confused, unsure why the rookie was so surprised at the suggestion, he literally flew almost a whole day to Australia to spend a week with him (and Mark)

"God, Nando, I really need to teach you how to word things better" He smiled, wrapping an arm around Fernandos shoulder "Let me treat you to dinner, race winner"

[raapija]

Just a regular day

Fernando Alonso/Lance Stroll

No warnings needed, just fluff <3

It's been a long day at the karting track and Lance goes to find Fernando to take him home.

This is part of the pookie au ->

Lance stretched back in his chair and yawned. He was finally done cataloging every piece of paper and recording everything on the computer database. He rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch.

"Half seven..." he mumbled to himself and relaxed for a moment longer. He looked out the office window and down towards the track. The sun was setting and painted the sky pink. It was so quiet compared to just a few hours before with about 20 karts speeding around the track and dozens of family members and friends cheering for them.

Lance could see some movement from the other side of the track where the garages and storage buildings were. He sat up to see better and could make out a familiar figure wheeling along one of the karts used in the race. Oh, Fernando was still working on something. The Canadian decided to wrap up his things and head down to see what he was doing. The whole building was empty, apart from a little old cleaning lady tidying up the offices. Lance said his good byes to her and made his way outside.

***

"Hey," Lance said as he stopped at the garage opening, looking at Fernando hunched over the kart he had been moving. "Whatcha doing?"

Fernando peered up and smiled as he saw Lance, his hands busy loosening some screws. As he looked back down, his face contorted in frustration as one of the screws wouldn't come out. "The engine was making a sound so I'm just checking it."

"It's almost seven, we should go home." Lance said and walked over to him, crouching down and watching Fernando tinker with the engine. The Spaniard's hands were covered in black oil and grease and Lance thought it made him look quite rugged. In a good way.

"Yeah, it's not gonna take long. You can go if you want to. I'll get a ride from someone." Fernando said and Lance huffed.

"I'm not leaving you here, you'll stay the whole night. Besides, it's only us and Juanita still here. And she can't strap you onto her Vespa." the Canadian said. Fernando chuckled and then pointed towards a toolbox off to the side.

"Well, help me then and we'll go." he said and Lance reached for the toolbox, handing Fernando whatever he needed. They worked together on the engine with Lance giving suggestions on the possible fix and Fernando trying them out. Finally, they found the right part that was causing the noise and Fernando ripped the whole thing off and changed in a new one. They fired up the kart and were satisfied to hear it run smoothly.

***

"Well!" Lance chirped with a clap as Fernando got up to clean his hands. It was almost eight now and he was feeling famished. They had only had a quick lunch break between practise and qualifying and that was almost 7 hours ago. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah, sí." Fernando said as he wiped his hands clean with WD-40. Lance grimaced as he knew how rough Fernando's hands would get after that. The Spaniard rinsed his hands with water and then walked over to Lance, pulling him close by the waist. He looked up to Lance and gave him a warm smile. "How was your day?"

Lance smirked at him and loosely wrapped his arms around Fernando's shoulders. "Fine. Busy, but fine. I had a lot of fun actually."

"Yeah?" Fernando hummed. Lance could see how tired he was, eyes all droopy and his whole being a bit disheveled. "A lot of official, very important race director business?"

"Yeah, sure." Lance laughed. His job for today had been to keep a record of everything happening on track. Participants, timing, possible penalties, finishing positions... It was a lot but he was pretty good at handling ten different things at once. And he had a couple people help him that worked full-time at the museum, so it wasn't really all that bad.

"Hmm..." Fernando hummed again and got up on his tip toes to give Lance a good and long kiss. Content with the smooch, he slumped back down and rested his forehead on Lance's shoulder. "Take me home, por favor."

"Okay..." Lance said and held him for a bit longer. Fernando smelled like oil, petrol and sweat, not the best combination of flavours but Lance loved it. It reminded him of his own karting days in Canada.

"Come on, then." Lance said and they let go of each other. They gathered their belongings and closed up the garage. It was pretty dark outside with only a few lamps lighting up the track. They walked hand in hand, talking about what they were going to have for a late dinner. Lance loved these kinds of sweet moments with Fernando. Nothing but them and ordinary every day conversation. Like they weren't famous F1 drivers with a million eyes on them at every waking moment, but just a couple of regular boring people with regular boring lives. Oh, what he would give for it to be like this always and forever. But then again, driving an F1 car was pretty nice, too.

"Lancito, churri?" Fernando called for him gently and Lance broke out of his daydream. He had fallen a few steps behind and now had to catch up.

"Yeah, yeah, coming." the Canadian hurried over to the car, throwing his things on the backseat as Fernando held the door open. They then went to their own respective places; Lance on the wheel and Fernando riding shotgun. It didn't take long after pulling out the parking lot that the Spaniard already fell asleep. Lance listened to the radio on low volume, driving along an empty road and cherished the moment once more. Him and his husband going home, the home that they had bought together. Just regular people driving back to their regular home. It was perfect for him.

▹.࿙𝆤𝆤࿚'𝆤࿙𝆤𖹭𝆤࿚𝆤'࿙𝆤𝆤࿚.࿙𝆤𝆤࿚'𝆤࿙𝆤𖹭𝆤࿚𝆤'࿙𝆤𝆤࿚.▹

Thanks for reading <3 I've been thinking of writing something with the karting school for a while now and finally got inspired enough to do it. Hope y'all like it 🥰

[ilikekidsshows]

I'm just so annoyed that one can't even voice their frustrations with Canon anymore without being written off as a salter. Especially when it comes to Marinette. But at the same time, I know exactly that if anyone had said earlier that Marinette would pull all these things that season 4 and 5 have her do, the person would have been insulted and ripped apart as a salter and hater. But the moment Canon has Marinette actually DO it her fans turn around and claim that her having done it is either totally fine, not her fault, or must be tolerated cause it's part of the good and pure messages "they totally predicted this way all along with their totally unbiased Master-minds"

It is so obvious that this is what's happening in the Fandom. In season 4, everyone yelled that people are being too harsh on poor Marinette cause season 5 will totally have her fix for example her insanely negligent, dehumanizing, and self centered behavior towards Cat Noir

And yet, the moment season 5 showed that non of that will happen, they turn around and started talking about these hypocritical nonsense philosophies that it's totally fine that feeling sorry, taking accountability and improving one's shortcomings doesn't actually include feeling sorry, taking accountability and improving one's real shortcomings, cause poor Marinette needs to have servants and be pampered for her hurtful behavior, validated and excused in it, and crowned the queen of the world first and "you just hate WOMEN wah wah wah".

That they totally understand how canon works and Marinette will TOTALLY have this groundbreaking journey til season 10, and everyone is so unfair and horrible for being sexist and having expected so much of her as early as THE END OF SEASON 5. Whne she straight up isn't doing her best to make up for her mistakes, she barely even tries and instead sweeps everything under the rug, takes every excuse she gets and continues taking advantage of Cat Noir in particular so she doesn't have to feel uncomfortable for 10 damn seconds

Where was that energy in season 4, Marinette stans? You said something entirely else back then! What changed? The fact that canon didn't deliver on your endless excuses for Marinette, so you decided to continue adapting your excuses to whatever Canon has her do? Sounds about right.

I wished Marinette stans and even just her Fans would do us all a solid and just admit already that the morality of Marinette's canon actions and behavior doesn't truly matter to them. There is literally nothing they wouldn't excuse that much is obvious by now. No matter how much they themselves qualified her current behavior as "offensive salt" one damn season earlier.

---

I did comment at one point that Miraculous was starting to resemble a saltfic when it started lifting plotpoints straight from them (like Adrien apologizing for his really solid advice that instantly helped Marinette in Chameleon). But now it seems that canon has also lifted Marinette's new role from saltfics, except that the people she disregards haven't done any of the stuff they do in saltfics that makes them “deserve” Marinette's retribution. Unless Adrien totally did rip Marinette's sketchbook and I just missed it.

But, yeah, it's absolutely ridiculous that, if we traveled back in time a couple of years and simply described to people what happens in seasons 4 and 5, we’d get labeled a bunch of salters. Even now they call us salters just because we don't praise Marinette for doing this stuff, like it's our fault the main heroine of this series is an utter failure who never worked up the courage to ask the guy she likes out and whose response to being told her nemesis’ identity was to ignore it until he jumped her when she was digging for info on her boyfriend. And then she lost the fight. Marinette had two jobs as a protagonist, and she failed at them both. That’s not the fault of the fans who are disappointed by this; it’s the fault of the writers who think doing what will get them the most attention is more important than having their supposed role model, hero and protagonist actually accomplish anything on her own merit.

Because the writers claim that they had this “planned all along”, when they had a French historical hero walk on screen and call Marinette the best Ladybug ever, while they were planning on having her fail at accomplishing all of her goals. I used to think that the writers think Marinette should be praised for simply existing, but no, they think she should be praised for explicitly failing. And pointing out this utter failure of writing and heroism is salt. That's how low the fans of this trainwreck have brought the bar for what they consider good television, it's practically nonexistent.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Given everything that canon has currently given us about their actions, thoughts, personalities and personal histories, how would you arrange all 15 of Miss Bustier’s students in order from Most Worthy of a Miraculous in General to Least Worthy of a Miraculous in General and why for each character’s placement?

The inconsistent characterization and other writing issues make this a hard ask, but I'll do my best. I'm not going to do a true ranking, though. Instead, we're going to do a combo ranking and tier approach since there will be a lot of ties here and I also want to draw some clear lines between the different groups.

The Hero Tier: characters who are ready to be heroes as-is. They may need to do some growing to feel like a full fledged hero, but that growing can be done as a newly hatched hero.

The I Guess? Tier: characters with nothing to qualify or disqualify them from being a hero. They don't necessarily feel like a bad fit, but they probably need a character arc to truly feel like a good fit.

The Disqualifying Episode Tier: characters who would be in the "I Guess" Tier if it weren't for that one really bad episode that makes them look terrible. (Note that I'm reserving this for minor characters who don't give us much to go on. Characters without a strong core for me to lean on, making it hard to ignore these bad episodes as there's nothing to contradict the bad characterization.)

The Needs a Redemption Arc First Tier: characters that are not suited to the hero role in their current form, but that could be if they went through a big personal journey

The Hero Tier

1 - Marinette Dupain-Cheng

While the writers have done Marinette dirty in a thousand ways, I will give them full credit for her base character design. She has an excellent setup for a hero. She's a quick thinker who takes charge in a crisis and who cares about doing the right thing. She's willing to make major sacrifices for the good of others and has a strong sense of justice. While I'm obviously biased by her role as the lead, there really isn't a character I'd pick over her for our leading lady. She is the character best suited to leading the team in battle.

2 - Alya Césaire

Alya is in the same category as Marinette. Someone who the writing has done dirty, but who still screams hero potential. Her take-charge attitude and willingness to brave akuma fights for her blog make her feel like someone who could grab a miraculous an go. This is extra true because her core character feels such a strong balance to Marinette. Because Marinette is good at reactive thinking, she needs a teammate who is good at proactive thinking to help figure out how to locate and reclaim the butterfly. That teammate should have been Alya, but alas, we will never get it in canon. The only reason Alya wasn't tied for first place is that she feels ill suited to solo work. She needs someone to make her pause and think things through when she gets overexcited.

2 - Adrien Agreste

I actually debated if Adrien deserved the hero tier because the writing has done so much to make him feel ill suited to the hero role. I ultimately decided to keep him up here because he has a strong core character that's incredibly easy to work with, making it feel wrong to put him anywhere else. A quick fix to his motivation and he's good to go because he's generally a selfless, kind person who is willing to put his life on the line for others. Ladybug truly would struggle without someone in his role and no one else really feels suited to it. Much like Alya, Adrien only works in a team setting, so he ties with her for second place.

3 - Alix Kubdel

I wasn't totally sure where to put Alix because she's one of the show's least developed teen characters. A lot of the things we know about her come from watching her adult self, which isn't really fair as everyone else is getting judged based on their behavior as a young teen. However, in spite of all the bad writing, Alix does come across like someone who would be ready to fight at a moment's notice and who has a strong desire to do good, so into the hero tier she goes!

4 - Rose Lavillant

While Rose's character doesn't scream hero, positivity and kindness are good traits for a hero, so I can see why she'd be picked to be one. Her recruitment episode was one of the strongest ones because she didn't need any sort of arc to be ready. She's fine as-is and fit her role perfectly, which means that it feels wrong to put her in another tier. I do worry about her ability to handle a major crisis since she's quick to cry and can come across as a little oversensitive, which is why I put her at the bottom of the list. You could convince me that she should be moved down a tier.

The I Guess? Tier

5 - Juleka Couffaine

Juleka a nice person and a good friend, but nothing about her screams "hero." At the same time, nothing about her screams "no good, very bad choice." I can see a story where she becomes a hero, but it doesn't feel like a missed opportunity if she stays a civilian because I don't think that she's ready to take on the role as-is. She's got some growing to do to really earn her stripes. It's why her hero debut is a little awkward. They tried to speed-run a character arc about her gaining confidence only for that development to disappear afterward. I'm not even sure why they needed her in that episode.

5 - Ivan Bruel

Ivan is basically a male Juleka and his recruitment is even more speed-run. It really feels like he only got a miraculous so that no one was left out. Nothing about his story feels like he earned his spot. If anything, it feels like he was done dirty and robbed of a character arc. Just look at this recruitment!

Ivan: What if I hurt someone using my superpowers? Ladybug: It's good to be careful, Ivan, but remember, you'll be on a team of superheroes facing supervillains! No one can be hurt. (Ivan, reassured, smiles)

I'm sensing some Stoneheart trauma here or maybe even something more complex, but of course, we're never going to dig into that. Boo, writers. Boo! Either have him ready to go or give him a story. Don't half-ass it!

6 - Mylène Haprèle

I almost put Mylène in the Hero Tier because her activism shows that she's willing to stand up and fight (Ivan didn't get that grace because it feels like he only does it for Mylène's sake). Then I thought about her hero debut and decided that Mylène belonged here because it was yet another hard-to-buy speed-run. I even put her below Ivan and Juleka because Mylène is the only character to give a truly compelling argument as to why she's not qualified:

Mylène: (interrupts) No, Ladybug! I can't be a superhero. I'm scared of everything. Look, I have a badge for my fear of water, one for my fear of beasts. I need a necklace to help me get over my fear of badges!

This is not someone who's ready to go on a solo mission after a minor pep talk, nor was she the obvious choice for the mouse, so her refusal should have been respected. Not everyone is qualified to be an action hero and it's a sign of strength to know when you need to say "no." Much like Juleka and Ivan, Mylène is begging for a stronger character arc or even for a story that shows that there are different types of heroes.

7 - Max Kanté

Max literally only got a miraculous so he didn't die because they were in space, so it's really hard to call him a good hero candidate who was well chosen for his role. At the same time, I can't call him unqualified. His strong analytical skills make him feel like a character who could be a good addition to a hero team, though only in a supporting role. They haven't done anything to make him feel like he belongs on the battlefield. He doesn't get a spot in the hero tier though because the Lila stuff and his behavior in Gamer are enough to make him feel like he needs to do some growing up before he's truly suited to a miraculous.

The Disqualifying Episode Tier

8 - Nino Lahiffe

I'm sorry, Nino. I love you, but your behavior in season four and five was appalling! You outed your girlfriend's identity without her permission, antagonized your best friend's abusive parent for no good reason, and demonstrated a total lack of faith in Ladybug's ability to regain the miraculous, making it impossible to put you in a higher tier because, unlike Adrien, Alya, and Marinette, you don't have a strong core character that I can use to argue away these flaws away. I literally had to redesign your character to write you! So into this tier you go since you actually have several disqualifying episodes.

9 - Nathaniel Kurtzberg

Nathaniel generally comes across as a nice guy, but Reverser totally ruined his character for me. Since the show has given me nothing that I can use to argue that Reverser shouldn't count, into this tier he goes. If you don't know what I'm talking about, then read the Marc section of this post to see why Nathaniel needs anger management classes. It's why he's going below Nino. Nino just feels like he needs to be a little more thoughtful. Nathaniel feels like he needs serious work.

9 - Lê Chiến Kim

Kim has never screamed hero to me and his actions in Derision are hard to ignore, especially since they match his bullying behavior in Origins. I want him to be our silly dumb jock, but canon apparently doesn't, so into this tier he goes. I actually almost put him in the bottom tier because the bullying thing bothers me so much. It really does feel like he needs at least a minor redemption arc, but he's got several episodes that paint him as fine, contradicting the episodes that make him a bully, so it feels unfair to put him in with the true bullies who cannot be characterized in any other way without going against their core character.

The Needs a Redemption Arc First Tier

10 - Chloé Bourgeois

Full thoughts here, but the short version is that baseline character establishment is not the same as a character arc. The show made Chloé sympathetic and showed that she had some actual depth, but those things were presented in a way that made them feel like they were just basic elements of her character. Things she'd always had. Her character never had any sort of meaningful growth, so it never felt like she should be a hero. It just felt like her story had the potential to go that route if the writers wanted to take her there.

11 - Sabrina Raincomprix

Sabrina is a bully who delights in tormenting others and who never gets a glimmer of potential like we saw with Chloé back in seasons two and three, meaning that Sabrina is totally unqualified for a miraculous. I was appall that she got one without even a hint of a redemption arc first. All we got was confirmation that Sabrina cares about her best friend which we always knew. At least Chloé only got hers by accident. Sabrina gets handed one like she's qualified to be on the team! Terrible writing. 0/10 stars

12 - Lila Rossi

We might as well put Lila in this tier since I'd like to think that any 14-year-old could be helped to be a better person, but it's hard to have any hope for her. The writing has failed her by every conceivable metric outside of maybe her core concept. Even then, she has no place in a formula show for kids. She belongs in a teen drama.

[nelkcats]

Hood Assistant

Prompt Part 1 Part 4 Part 5 Ao3 Next

Part 6

-----

The wounded know better how to treat other wounded

------------------

"You guys are really annoying" Crane complained from his Arkham cell, ever since the daybat left him there he had been put in solitary confinement for escaping.

Which he usually wouldn't mind, it was much better to be alone than to hear the Joker's laughs or Waylon's complaints, but the damn cell had a window.

And what was watching him from the window? crows, many of them, after his lamentable defeat he tried to ignore them upon their arrival but it wasn't working.

"Why are you here? Are you making fun of me?" Scarecrow complained with a frown, he really hated birds.

"Kar, Kar, Kar" one of the crows flapped its wings, though it looked a bit apologetic, if birds could show emotions.

"What? Are you trying to apologize or something?" Crane scoffed, not buying the act the crow was showing.

"Kar, Kar" the crow nodded, it almost seemed like they were really sorry for leaving him in such bad shape.

"As if I would believe you" Scarecrow snorted "if you really want to apologize get out of my sight"

Surprisingly that seemed to work because the crows began to disperse. Crane looked at the situation with curiosity, he had spent hours arguing with the creatures and asking them to leave, what was different this time?

And then he saw it, a cat had crashed through the bars of his cell window, it looked pretty small, probably a bit adventurous considering he had pounced on three adult crows at the same time.

"Oh" Scarecrow fixed his gaze on the little cat, he looked quite malnourished, and he was sure he had an infection or two, but technically he had driven the crows away right? He really couldn't be mad about it.

"You're a long way from home, aren't you buddy?" He questioned, the cat looked at him curiously, probably wondering if he should jump at him or not.

It was quite easy to determine the winning option because before he knew it the little kitten had jumped onto the mask on his head.

"What are you doing over there?" Asked the villain, more amused than angry, it was a little worrying that he couldn't feel the weight of the cat on his head.

"The guards are going to be mad if they find you here, you know?" Crane continued speaking, finally reaching the kitten and tucking it into his arms, "you must be an adventurer."

"Meow" the cat meowed, reaching into the seams of the mask and nibbling, it looked like he had found something to play with.

"You're also lonely aren't you?" Scarecrow said, you could hear some fondness in his tone; he glanced around his confinement cell but there didn't seem to be anyone near him, the guards wouldn't be passing by for hours either. In the end, he made up his mind to stroke the cat's fur.

"You need a bath, and probably a vet" he stated checking the little boy, he had a scar over his eye and was obviously neglected, it wasn't a surprise considering he lived in Gotham.

"Do you hate crows too?" He questioned curiously as he watched the cat wagging its tail as it stared out the window, he took the meow as confirmation.

"I guess we have some things in common" Scarecrow allowed himself a smile "I should help find you an owner, you're too young to be here alone."

The cat looked away from the window and fixed on him at the mention of a new caretaker, meowed with determination and placed one of his paws on Crane's mask.

"Me?" The confused villain questioned "I don't think that's a good idea, I work a lot with chemicals and I'm currently stuck here, surely we can find someone better qualified"

The cat didn't seem to like the answer because it meowed again and placed both paws on the man.

"Okay, okay, you're stubborn, if you want me to take care of you I guess we can work something out." Crane sighed, he didn't know if sneaking a kitten into his cell was a good idea, but it can't be helped "I guess strays stick together, don't we?"

Well, he supposed there was nothing he could do, he had acquired a cat.

"We're gonna be great friends, Cannon"

—--------

Amazingly Danny managed to make it through the whole night without waking up from a nightmare. That could have something to do with the warm weight around his waist, or with Nocturn, he wasn't quite sure which.

Though to be completely honest, he refused to thank the pesky dream ghost for anything, their differences might have been sorted out, more or less, but he had the right to continue pissed off for all damn eternity. Who decides that putting an entire city to sleep was a good bonding exercise to meet the new ghost? Literally no one!

"Five more minutes" the halfa muttered when he felt his pillow move. That was weird, Johnny must be bothering him again.

"Ugh, stop," he groaned, touching the bed aggressively in an attempt to stop the annoying ghost, but he frowned when he felt the surface.

"How strange, I don't remember buying such a square pillow, but it is quite comfortable" Danny yawned as he began to open his eyes a little.

"Did I just got demoted to a pillow?" Jason asked with amusement watching as the boy kept touching his chest, probably to settle him on the bed or something. 

"Pillows don't usually complain that much" the halfa complained before opening his eyes fully and noticing the person next to him "WAIT, JAY? WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON MY PILLOW?"

"Take a closer look," Jason told him with a chuckle.

"What am I going to look-" the halfa stopped talking and blushed when he noticed how he was lying on the other's chest "Damn, you're comfortable"

"Is that all you're going to say?" Jason asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not the pillow-shaped one between the two of us," Danny smirked. Although he was having an internal panic; he decided that was going to be a problem for future Danny, one more awake than the current one.

Jason just shook his head feeling amused by the situation, that wasn't what he expected to hear when he woke up.

"So...have you considered working as a professional pillow?" Danny asked, leaning back into Jason's chest.

Honestly Jason was quite surprised by the nerve "I don't think that's a real job, Doll"

"I could make it real, you know." Danny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with a smile, apparently being half asleep gave him courage to flirt.

"Danny, I'm the one who gives your paycheck" Jason couldn't help but laugh at the face the boy was making "just shut up and let me go, I need to make breakfast"

"But you're sooo soft and waaarm" the halfa complained sadly, actually he just didn't want to let him go, he was sure that the only reason he was calm at that moment was the other's presence.

"Doll, as much as I want to lay here all day you really need a good breakfast" Jason reminded him "don't think I forget about the comment you made to the kids, you're going to leave this house well fed"

“You really don't have to do that" the halfa muttered embarrassed, he really hoped the other would forget that comment quickly.

"No, I will, and since your roommate isn't here to reason with you I feel responsible for doing so," Jason stared at him, daring him to argue, "So you're going to sit here and have the best breakfast of your life, okay?"

"Okay" Danny agreed, he felt a chill down his spine but refused to participate in the strange power play, he could feel the intensity in the other gaze and taking into account his own experiences with Jazz he knew better than to argue with the person preparing his food. Besides, Jason reminded him too much of an Italian matriarch at the moment to argue.

"Still, I really don't feel good enough to let you go right now" the boy muttered worriedly.

"What do you mean by that? You look pretty good to me" He asked curiously, actually he looked too good to have recently come out of a fear gas attack, he was suspicious for a moment but no one could fake such an intense reaction like the day before.

"It's embarrassing" Danny muttered, fixing his gaze on the bedroom window, Gotham had a strangely picturesque architecture "you're going to laugh at me"

"I will laugh at you for many things, but your trauma is not one of them" Jason clarified seriously "you can trust me, Doll"

"Okay then" Danny sucked in as much air as he could and let it out all at once, it was a clear attempt to give himself courage "You are my anchor"

"Your anchor? I don't remember you having a boat," Jason teased as he tried to make sense of the sentence in his head, all he could think of were Percy Jackson lines. He shouldn't have let his brother convince him to read the whole saga, his expectations for romance were too high because of it.

The lines when Percy gets Achilles' curse were really romantic, weren't they? He is certainly not referring to that.

Though something inside him screamed that this was definitely a literature reference he should pay attention to, Jason doubted it, no one had ever said or referenced cute lines to him before and he doubted a pretty boy would start.

"Not that kind of anchor" the halfa turned to see him and smacked his arm annoyed "You are my anchor to reality, when you're around fear fades, like a lucky charm"

"A pillow, an anchor, and now an amulet, you assign me only good things, don't you?" The vigilante sneered, "So, the reason you're so well is…?"

"Yeah, it's because you're close" Danny decided to ignore Jason's comment about how he kept associating him with objects, it wasn't his fault it fit "The gas makes me see a lot of things but when I feel your heartbeat I just- I don't know "

"Relax?" Jason asked softening the expression on his face, he understood the need to want to know that the people you cared about were safe, it was a feeling he related to.

Like the need to know that his family was safe away from him, that the pits hadn't hurt them yet, and wouldn't.

"Quite a lot" Danny nodded "I think my heartbeat is imitating yours or something" he tried to joke.

"My heartbeat?" Jason asked curiously, that's when he noticed Danny's grip on his right arm, one of his fingers resting lightly on his carotid artery.

The place where doctors usually checked the pulse of their patients.

"How long have you been checking?" He asked again with his renewed curiosity, he found it interesting that he hadn't noticed the boy's hand obviously clinging to him when it was obvious that he had been like this for more than a while. Jason was supposed to have been trained by ninjas and Batman himself, how the hell did he miss that?

"Since I woke up, it probably started a bit after that" the halfa admitted sheepishly "I was checking your heartbeat when I lay on your chest, but after pulling away I really needed to be sure, I know it's a little weird, but I really don't want to go back to the world of fear Jay"

The world of fear was much worse than Frighty's dimension because it kept playing with his head, replaying and distorting his own memories until they were destroyed. The fact that Dan didn't appear even once during the flashbacks was worrying. It meant that the fear to his own city and the despair born of how much he had failed far outweighed the fear of himself.

Although he didn't want to cause Jason any unnecessary discomfort, his half-asleep state had taken over his morning actions, the ghost side of him became extremely possessive of the person who had "saved" him, and he needed to make sure that he was fine, alive, breathing.

"So, to clarify: the reason you're so calm right now is because of me? Somehow I make you feel better?" Jason would be lying if he said he wasn't moved by the thought.

"Or at least that's my theory" he said "My head was in a horrible place, I kept reminiscing and trying to suppress things I don't want to think about, until I found you, you became my light Jay"

"You make it sound like a romance novel," Jay tried to tease, he hoped Danny didn't notice his heartbeat rising at the words. It was strange that such a cheesy phrase was out of a book and coming out of the mouth of the cutest boy he had ever seen.

Focus Jason, you're not in a romance novel, this is real life.

Of course, Jason wouldn't deny how warm the thought felt, him, Jason Tood, being a knight in shining armor in a romance novel? It was a scenario he had thought of multiple times when he was a child.

"I would say it's a fantasy novel, although maybe it has multiple genres" the halfa smiled "it's the story of a knight who rescues a person in distress and becomes his safe place"

"I've never been anyone's safe place, I don't know if you're making a good decision with it" Jay said doubtfully.

But how are you supposed to react when the person who is slowly stealing your heart starts talking about you in such a dreamy way? When you can see the stars in his eyes and the blush on his cheeks? And you know that's not for anyone but you?

To a certain extent, it was too much; Red Hood was the protector of Crime Alley, Robin was the protector of Gotham, but Jason? Jason had never been anyone's protector, no one had seen him as if he hung the moon in the sky, no one had trusted him so sincerely.

No one had looked upon him with such affection since his mother's death, not even Bruce. Although, that could be due to how constipated his father was with emotions.

And this guy just decided to go for it? For no reason?

Could the trust be because he was Danny's only choice? A treacherous part of his head wondered. But Danny had trusted him before that, and the reaction looked real.

That worried him, how far was this pretty boy willing to go before he regretted it? What would happen when he realized that trusting Jason Todd wasn't worth it? After all he wasn't just Jason anymore, as much as he sometimes wished he was. Would he run? Will he fear him like everyone else in his life? Dreading the moment when he goes berserk and goes for blood? Or will he choose to stay against all odds?

And the worst part, will Jason be able to bear his decision?

For some reason, Jason hated to think about it. He didn't want to be the one to change the boy's perspective. He didn't want to be the one to turn out the stars in the sky. He didn't want to be the villain.

He was so tired of being cast as the bad guy, the person to blame, he was trying his best, dammit! Why couldn't anyone see it? Why when they saw Red Hood they didn't see little Robin who was his shadow?

"Jason, are you alright?" Danny asked with concern "I know it might be uncomfortable, I can try to fight the toxin on my own if you'd rather I stop touching you"

"No!" Jason's scream startled both of them, neither of them willing to admit how desperate it sounded to both of their ears. One because he did not want to bother and the other because he tried to ignore the event.

"No, it's not necessary" Jason cleared his throat, trying not to think about how bad it felt to tell the boy to go away "You don't make me feel uncomfortable, that's fine, and if it's helping I won't take that away from you."

"If you say so," Danny looked at him doubtfully, but if Jay wasn't willing to admit it then there was nothing he could do.

And that's when Jason realized how desperate he was for affection, how badly he needed someone just brushing his arm. It was surreal how soothing Danny's touch felt in his hand, like putting balm on an old scar.

As much as Dick had tried to fill that void of affection, Jason had sorely refused, the contact feeling strange, uncomfortable, yet welcome. And it wasn't his older brother's fault, the family situation was just awkward since he introduced himself as Red Hood, the pits didn't help either. Now that he technically had an excuse he couldn't bear not to take it and take advantage of the situation a bit.

I'm really touch starved, aren't I?

The vigilante questioned ironically, although without knowing it, Danny was thinking the same thing. Both of them had been deprived of such a basic right that the mere touch of another person felt like a roller coaster ride, better than the mystical "electrical connection" spoken of in romance books. Or the love at first sight that was mentioned in the songs.

Touching and hugging, along with the affection that comes from such actions were basic things that both had been deprived of for so long that their bodies actively sought them out, and now that they both had a valid excuse to initiate contact they had no plans to let go.

"Don't you feel uncomfortable?" Jason asked, in an attempt to return the favor "if you're just doing it to keep yourself away from the effects of the toxin that's fine."

"It's not that, it just feels right, you know?" Danny smiled.

For a few moments they were not Red Hood, nor Phantom, they were simply Jason and Danny, two normal people who sought affection from those around them like dehydrated people finding a spring in the middle of the desert.

"Yeah, I get it," he said, because he really did, though he didn't know if they were talking about the same thing.

"Love, love" sang the little bird in the window while he watched the scene, it seemed that he had liked the word so much that he just repeated it randomly.

"Well, I should go make breakfast for you, shouldn't I, little prince?" The vigilante quipped, if he was the knight then Danny would be the closest thing to a prince in a tower.

"Lead the way, my dear knight" Danny said happily, "we'll finally see your fabulous culinary skills in action."

"You've seen them before, with the soup," Jason scoffed.

"I thought that was more of a community job, but it's true that you were guiding the whole process," Danny hummed.

"Yeah, so ready to try a meal prepared entirely by me? There will be no slicing carrots this time," Jason assured him.

"Excuse me, my carrots had personality, okay?" Danny teased, remembering the moment he showed off his creation.

"I think you murdered their personality after cutting them, it looked like a massacre" the vigilante admitted.

"We can't all be Gordon Ramsay, and you said that they were fine!" The halfa protested offended.

"They were, for a newbie." Jason looked away, pretending he hadn't heard the offended gasp that came from the pretty boy.

"Oh, so this is how we're going to play? Okay, but I'm warning you that I'll check your chef's hat looking for a rat in it" Danny threatened him, if Jason had help ratatouille style he would know it.

"Are you accusing me of cheating? I don't need a chef's hat" Jason replied, a little offended.

"We'll get you one, every professional needs a chef's hat, and a 'kiss the chef' apron" Danny was quick to point out, those were basic elements for a kitchen. 

"That's quite a strong statement you know?" Jason asked, amused.

"It's not that I want to kiss you!" the halfa quickly denied, ignoring the laughter of his boss.

"So I'm not kissable enough huh? too ugly for you?" Jason teased moving closer to him.

"¡No! I'm not saying that either, you're cute, comfortable, you have perfect abs, and I'm absolutely sure you're also an excellent kisser- hell, I wouldn't object to kiss you" the halfa stammered.

"I'm just kidding, Danny." Jason raised his eyebrows with a smirk on his face.

"I completely knew that," Danny tried to assure, sounding as uncertain as he felt.

—-----------

"That class almost killed me" Amorpho complained under his breath as he left advanced physics, he was really going to kill Johnny, he hadn't entered an educational center in years, not counting the time he impersonated Danny.

"I know man, all the theory is too much" one of his classmates commented as he left the room next to him "although I'm surprised you asked so many questions, you're usually more quiet"

"Ah, I needed some guidance this time" Amorpho looked away, it was obvious that Danny was much better than him in that class, considering who his parents were.

"It's ok, we all have bad days" the student shrugged "you can join our study group if you want"

"Really? That would be nice." Even though he wasn't planning on impersonating Danny for so long, he could at least not mess up his grades in the meantime. And well, learning a little more about what was happening right now sounded interesting, even if it was math.

"Sure, by the way, those contacts are totally cool" stated the guy next to him "Where did you buy them?"

"Uh, I ordered them from a place quite far away" Amorpho said uncertainly, he had forgotten that his red eyes didn't fit Danny, that most of his classmates would have taken them as contact lenses was a relief "I don't know if they're still for sale "

"Gezz, that's really bad" the boy sighed "well, our group meets in the evenings, don't get caught by a villain in the meantime! It would be nice to have more people joining"

"I'll be there" Amorpho stated with a smile, if he was going to play student he might make some semblance of friends in the process, or at least entertain himself.

"Speaking of which, do you know where the drama club meets?" The ghost asked curiously after passing by a poster with large colored letters and a 'we are waiting for you!' written in glitter

"Sure, a friend of mine is inside, and you're lucky, our meetings don't really clash with each other, would you like me to guide you?" The boy questioned.

"That would be lovely" the ghost stated, Johnny had technically said that he could do anything, joining two college clubs was on the list.

"Great, I really didn't see you as a theater kid you know?" The boy perked up, apparently interested in the conversation "you always looked a bit sad back there, I thought you didn't like to socialize and that kind of thing"

"Yeah, a few things happened" Amorpho decided to avoid the topic "but I feel better now and I'm ready for some drama"

"That's amazing, dude" the boy smiled offering his hand "I'm Michael by the way, is nice to finally meet you"

"Nice to meet you Michael" Amorpho shook the offered hand "my name is A-Danny"

"A-Danny?" Michael raised an eyebrow.

"I had a change recently" Amorpho shrugged “I'm still trying to get used to it”

"Oh, I understand mate" Michael nodded "that's great and completely understandable, some things need to be changed"

"Well said, I like to morph if it makes me feel better." Amorpho smiled, Michael seemed genuinely nice.

"I couldn't have put it better" Michael stated "now come on, I think drama club sign-ups start in a few minutes"

With that said, the boy and the ghost headed towards the club, one completely excited to finally do what he loved, and the other quite happy with what seemed to be a new friend.

And well, at the end of the day it looked like Danny had joined two new clubs and was fast becoming what seemed to be the best drama student the recruiters had ever found, on his way to being a protagonist; too bad the real Danny had no idea the attention his supposed counterpart was gaining.

—----------

Danny followed Jason into the kitchen, it's not like he could leave him alone while the effects of the gas were in his system anyway. Although he was worried that Jason would notice his fangs, hiding them quickly became uncomfortable and he felt the sudden urge to bite down on something.

"Danny, are you alright?" Jay asked a little worried when he saw the boy distracted again, he gently caressed the hand located on his wrist in an attempt to get the other's attention.

"Yeah, sorry" Danny decided he was going to let things happen naturally "weren't we about to rate your excellent five stars food?"

"I'm surprised you remember," Jason sneered, though he was distracted when he noticed Dog watching him from the living room "I didn't forget about you, girl."

Dog simply barked, debating whether to approach her owner and the stranger who currently seems to be holding his hand. He didn't feel aggressive towards her but something wasn't exactly right either.

"She's so cute" Danny smiled looking at the pitbull peeking out from the living room "Am I scaring her?"

"Something like that, it's a bit weird actually, but I'm not surprised she's hiding" Jason stated, Dog was rescued from a center that organized illegal fights so it wasn't surprising that she was suspicious of strangers, what was strange was that she approached more quickly than expected.

"Oh, maybe she sensed Cujo" the halfa commented nonchalantly.

"Cujo?" Jason raised an eyebrow at the boy.

"Yeah, he's my puppy," Danny smiled, happy to be able to talk about his puppy with someone else. Although calling Cujo a cub was still in doubt, considering that he could change the size of him to suit him.

So, technically Cujo wasn't a cub anymore, given his giant form which made him look much older, but at the time of death he was, and as far as Danny could assume he had never really given up his attitude as a cub. 

Whatever the case, he would always be Danny's pup, and Danny was fine with that. The day Cujo randomly decided to adopt him was one of the best memories he had.

"Oh, I wouldn't have guessed," the vigilante hummed.

"Yeah, I don't usually talk about him much because it's a bit of a reverse adoption case, you know?" Danny smiled "I didn't adopt Cujo, he adopted me and then he wouldn't let me go, he was actually a bit of a stray, I'm not sure why he decided to stay with me"

"You're interesting enough," Jason said happily, he could see why Danny would attract a dog, considering the crow he'd seen last night.

"By the way, where's your crow?" Jason questioned as he went over to give Dog some food, she was wagging her tail excitedly, completely ignoring Danny who had stuck to him like a barnacle.

"Poe? He is not technically my crow" Danny sighed "My roommate found him yesterday and he just started following me."

"That's amazing, he seemed pretty attached to you." Jason raised an eyebrow doubtfully.

"But he is not mine, I'm sure he decided I'm not interesting enough anymore or something, you won't see him anytime soon" the halfa shrugged.

At that precise moment, a small crow flew into the room and happily landed on Danny's head, the halfa in question looked at him with a blank expression.

"You really love to contradict me" he affirmed seeing the small bird singing on his head.

"Oh look, looks like it wasn't such a long time after all" Jason snorted, Dog seemed to have decided to ignore the situation in question as she quickly ate what her handler had given her.

"Love! Love!" The crow affirmed moving his wings, he really loved the sound of the word.

"No, Poe, Danny, my name is Danny," the halfa tried to correct him, ignoring the stare Jason was giving him.

"Twinkcito!"  Poe corrected his supposed mistake, although it was obvious that he was making fun of the boy, he was smart enough to understand the reactions that his words caused and repeat them based on it.

"I give up" Danny muttered in frustration.

"He's not wrong" Jason said considering, "you really do have the complexion for it"

"Please don't encourage him" Danny begged.

"I'm not encouraging him, I'm just saying that if we take into account your complexion and the definition of the word, it just fits." Jason shrugged.

"Just go make the food already" Danny gave up on trying to reason with him, it was better to remind him of what he was supposed to be doing to distract him from the subject.

"Fine, fine, but since my hands are still trapped you're going to have to be my helper," Jason stated, heading into the kitchen.

"I don't know if you remember correctly Jay, but I made a massacre with the potatoes and carrots last time" the halfa said, a bit embarrassed.

"Of course I remember" that had been one of the most adorable expressions he had ever seen "But at that moment I had to guide everyone, now all my attention is on you"

Danny was suddenly nervous about having Jason's attention on him, he'd been tremendously proud to pull off an edible meal last time but he was afraid he wouldn't be able to pull it off again.

"There's no need to be nervous, Doll" Jason assured him "I'll walk you through every step of the way, okay?"

"Okay, I can do it" Danny said out loud, in an attempt to give himself courage, it seemed that he really needed it that day.

"Kar, Kar!" Poe flapped his wings happily from his place on the boy's head.

"Thanks, Buddy." Danny smiled at the crow who had apparently decided to stick to him like a duckling.

"Well, I guess we also have to make sure your partner doesn't eat the ingredients" Jason muttered, looking at the crow.

Poe for his part yelled "Kar" at him, sounding completely offended, Jason simply conceded defeat, doubting they'd be able to get rid of him anytime soon.

"Well, are you ready to try the best meal of your life that definitely isn't made by a french rat?" Jason asked smiling.

"Yes, although I'm still doubting that you don't have one hidden in your hair, I think you have enough space" The halfa shrugged.

"Oh shut up and combine the ingredients I'm going to tell you, you're on duty to mix the batter and I'm going to make sure you taste some good pancakes today" Jason said.

"Mix? Aren't you going to use the batter on the box?" Danny asked curiously, the times Jazz had cooked for him she had used pre-made things, probably because it was easier.

"Of course not, you're going to have a real pancake experience, not whatever you've been eating up until now," Jason stated, although the boxed food tasted ok it was nowhere near the real thing made from scratch.

Jason didn't know it when he was a kid because Catherine didn't have the money for it, but most of his meals were simple, quick, or easy to prepare, he was mostly grateful to have something to eat if he was being honest.

But when Alfred patiently showed him how to cook, he began to enjoy it, to understand the difference between the two types of food and to enjoy the feeling of others tasting his creations, to the point that he ended up becoming an expert at it. He was tremendously proud to be one of the few who wasn't banned from the kitchen in the mansion.

He was glad to be the person to teach Danny that difference, when he saw the proud expression the boy was making for preparing something fairly edible he didn't think much of it at first sight, considering it mostly adorable.

But after thinking about it for a while he realized that maybe Danny just didn't know what it was like to cook your own food, that he'd had a time only eating fast or easy food, that no one had ever given him a full meal.

Jazz tried, but she didn't really know how to cook either, Maddie hadn't taught her. She tried with online tutorials but in the end she ended up mostly with fast or simple food for both of them.

Honestly, the conversation with the Alley Kids just confirmed his suspicions, usually people who eat well don't forget from one moment to another that they should eat, unless they're not really used to it.

So he was quite happy to say that Danny was a good helper in the kitchen, checking him every five minutes for a sign if he was doing it right or wrong, asking if he had any questions about anything in the process, and not afraid to ask for help.

"Jay, I don't know if I can do this" the boy in question complained looking at some strawberries that Jason had asked him to cut a few minutes ago.

"Do you want me to guide you on it?" Jason questioned happily, he always felt better while cooking.

"Can you do that? Wouldn't that be too much of a problem, all things considered?" Danny asked curiously, pointing to their hands that were still clasped.

"Not really" he said "but it can be a bit uncomfortable in this position"

Since Jason had managed to switch the "affected hand" from right to left when starting to cook (checking that Danny hadn't had any problems, of course) the process had been much easier.

Well, thankfully neither of them was doing badly working with their hands trapped, so he was easily able to point Danny to the correct method of cutting through the fruit without massacring it. Although the boy seemed very distracted during the process.

"The pancakes will be ready in a few minutes, I'd tell you to go sit in the dining room but, you know," Jason vaguely gestured at their connected hands.

"Don't worry, I don't mind waiting" the halfa told him nonchalantly, watching Jason cook was becoming one of his favorite activities after all. He gave off a completely different feeling than usual, he looked more relaxed and happy in general.

When they were finally able to move to the dining room table, each one of them had a plate of pancakes, Danny decorated them with strawberries and whipped cream while Jason settled with a simpler version of fruit and honey.

"Well? Are you going to try it?" Jason asked curiously and somewhat expectantly as he noticed Danny staring at his plate.

"It's just that they look so cute, I don't want to destroy them" Danny looked at Jason sadly, eating them felt like a crime.

"I'll make you others later" Jason shook his head in amusement "but you have to eat those first"

Eventually Danny worked up the courage to eat his pancakes. Jason freaked out the moment he saw his eyes watering.

"They're good" Danny made sure to affirm quickly wiping away the tears that were forming in his eyes after he saw how much he was worrying Jason, who seemed torn between paying attention and looking for ways to comfort him "very, very good"

It reminded him of the time Jazz made him his first meal, or when Lunch Lady scolded him and gave him a homemade sandwich, but somehow this felt better than both times.

How was it possible?

"It's okay, Danny," Jason gently stroked the hand that had returned to hold his arm as soon as they left the kitchen, "you're okay now."

Whether he was referring to the food or something completely different, no one could tell.

—------------

By the time they both finished their food, Danny was happily satisfied and strangely full. The moment he looked away from his plate he noticed something peculiar inside one of the rooms.

He approached the object curiously, practically dragging Jason with him into the room in question.

"Isn't that Red Hood's jacket?" Danny asked curiously looking at the clothes organized on the walls.

Jason cursed himself as he thought of something to say, maybe if he chose not to answer Danny would ignore it. He had been distracted by the matter of food and completely forgot that many of his things were in the house.

"And those are his combat boots" the halfa said excitedly, Danny perked up as he started pointing to different objects in the room. The weapons were obviously Hood's "There's only one explanation for this"

Jason tried to think of an excuse but he couldn't think of one, he assumed that was it, that was the end of his secret identity "Danny, the truth is that I am-"

"You live with Red Hood right?" Danny looked at him, trying to confirm his suspicions and the rumors of the Alley kids. 

"-living with Hood, certainly," Jason agreed. Not knowing the trouble he was getting himself into with those four words.

--------------------------------------

Annd tag time, I'm not going to lie it feels pretty weird to have this chapter so early but the sprints are really magical. This chapter was going to be even longer but I preferred to shorten it and include the rest as ideas for the next one. I hope you liked it!

In this case I have to clarify that Danny never broke contact with Jason during the whole chapter, when he said that he was his anchor he was being both figurative and literal. In general, being able to feel his heartbeat was calming him down a lot.

And the reason why Jason's food felt different is because it was 100% human, what Lunch Lady gives is usually fine, but the ectoplasm adds something weird to it as an extra, so yes, Jason was technically the first to cook him food from scratch

Sorry if you saw the first one, I kinda uploaded by accident haha

@skulld3mort-1fan@sorryiwonnoob@idfk-man10@avelnfear@criticaloverthinker@confusedandghostly @lunadoll36 @spidey29phangirl @suppengott @yjfk@apointlessbox@mimilikey@thegatorsgoose@jaggedheart11@dyinggirldied@pyramaniac@akikkobara@thedragonqueen1998@lostlightandfoundcrazy@xye-chan@saltyladynightmare @ashleysmshly @thewondersoflebanon@illusionwolfwriter24r8@littlefeather345@asphyxia778@amercurio@leftmiraclechaos @dixiwoods @satoshy12@lyra689@meira-3919@quietlyscared@plotwholls @kyrianclawraith @blacksea21090@basilf1res @flowers-n-fauna @8-29pm@phantom-dc@luer-mirin@taniaundertaleau@cloriform@readerkayden@oddlydrawnpuppets@basementloser@little-green-asparagus@echoednonny@yummy-yummy-mmmbones@confusionchaos@ectoplasm024@autumnwulf@666deaddash999@redhoneysugarorange@blue-avis@sailor-goddess@satanicrutialspecialist

[vro0m]

Brocedes hasnt been brocedes all year. Its just a lot more ovi now. We got a certified nico lewis situation at merc. Toto picking the wrong guy once again. Whats new?

Okay first of all I wanna say this can't be a Nico - Lewis situation. There will never be a Nico - Lewis situation again. But I guess what you mean is there's an open, direct rivalry at Merc again. Which. Yeah sure. That's usually what happens. I'm not surprised it's happening, we mentioned it before.

(long post)

I'm not sure what you mean by 'Toto picking the wrong guy once again'. If you mean in the context of hiring George, I disagree because George is a very good driver. If you mean in the race, I highly doubt Toto is the one making the strategy calls in the middle of things. At the very most, the strategists tell him the options and he might green-light one of them.

They've been having strategy issues for a while now. That's also something we've talked about before. If anything, I'd say the issue lies with the strategy team rather than Toto or George. We've said the bad calls were hidden by the good car performance before but also I do think it's gotten worse. Back when it was announced that Vowles was leaving, I said not directly replacing him was bullshit. They claimed the rest of the department would just divide Vowles' workload between themselves. Toto said they'd been doing it already during the '22 season (when did the strategy issues ramp up? idk). What I said at the time was "someone is going to have to make the final decision on strategy" and "otherwise it's not gonna work". It might just not be working.

One thing I'll give credit to George for is that he's trying things. Hasn't there been a convo in the last few weeks with people (including me iirc) saying Merc is too conservative with the strategy? That they need to stop acting like they're at the front, defending rather than behind, chasing? Also isn't it kinda boring when the team doesn't give the car that's qualified behind a chance and only uses it to support the other? (Also with his quali performances lately, wouldn't that do more harm to Lewis than George?) I guess it's just the way being a fan goes, but I feel like every race weekend I see fans of either driver defending what or complaining about what they were complaining about or defending the previous race, depending on who they're rooting for the most. It's okay when it's their blorbo only (which again : just being a fan).

Anyway props to George for being a driver, and asking for more. That's his job. Sometimes it annoys me ngl. Sometimes I feel like he's acting too entitled during the races. But as I also said before, it's not particularly unexpected from a young driver. Lewis was really not that different in his days lol. They all have a chip on their shoulder and they are all essentially starving egotistical cunts. The older ones might just have learnt to hide it slightly better through the years. Slightly. Is Lewis being more of a team player? On track, probably so, props to him for that. Don't know how long it's gonna last in these conditions though, given that he's also a starving egotistical cunt. Off track, he's complaining very loudly and unsubtly about not being prioritised by the team in a not-so-great way imo. I'm repeating myself yet again but it's not as easy as just saying here's what needs fixing with the car, then claiming they're not listening to him when it doesn't suddenly work. Merc is truly fumbling with the development, and patience is not Lewis' greatest virtue lol. He's clearly getting frustrated with the performance, understandably so. I'm simultaneously pretty sure that's true for the whole team, not just him. So him saying they're not doing their best and voluntarily just not doing what he wants is probably not helping.

I do think that the team is gonna have to find a way to make it work between them two on track before they take each other out or straight up disobey team orders out of hunger or frustration. But well. Do I have to link the essay again? (Sorry for bringing it up 10 times a week.) It's not that easy managing intra-team rivalries and I see some people claiming they should pick a n°1 driver but how? Right now, Lewis and George are on par in quali (8-8). George has less points for sure but you also gotta take into account that he's had four terrible races in the year, not always by his fault (although sometimes yes). Outside of these four races, their results are very similar. This is not a Max-Perez type of gap by far. Lewis is most probably not gonna stay for 10 more years despite what he sometimes likes to pretend, George might. I'm still rooting for Lewis first and everybody else second but if you look at this realistically, it's not as simple as saying to George "look we're betting on you for the future, someday, but until Lewis retires you'll always be a second thought to us. But you know, still stay with us and take it lying down. Toodles!" He's completely right about it, but it's easier for Lewis to say "we're fighting for the team not for driver points" when he's the one ahead in the standings. Because what? You always always have to do better than your teammate. (Again, sorry for bringing it up constantly.)

In some way the issue with both of them is impatience. Lewis is impatient to have a good car again and he's starting to somewhat take it out on the team which isn't ideal. For all they looove saying we win and we lose together, that's not a supportive behavior claiming publicly they're just not listening to him. George is impatient to get track position and to beat his team-mate and he's rushing the racing too much, making rookie mistakes in the process (see Singapore) and demanding sometimes more than his due during races.

So yeah I think they need to rein them both in — one off track, one on track — but also without rejecting all new ideas and all questioning, both when it comes to the car and when it comes to the race strategy. It's not gonna be easy, but it's definitely gonna be very interesting.