#travis head current teams

[targetstudy]

Travis Head Biography, Age, Height, Wife, Stats, IPL, Scores, Wiki & More

Travis Head is a famous international Australian cricketer. he is the left-hand batsman and he is also a part-time bowler. Travis played all the formats of cricket like T20, One Day International 90(ODI), and Test.

Head was played for Craigmore Cricket Club and Trinity College.

Head played National under 19 at the age of 17 for Australia. after 1 year later he made his debut for South Australia in 2012.

In 2012, Head played his first Under-19 Cricket World Cup. This World Cup head was done beautifully batting and bowling.

Head was part of the inaugural Ageas Bowl International Cricket Academy in 2013.

The head became 3rd Australian player who scored a double century in a List A match in 2015.

In January 2016, Head played his first international T20 match against India.

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[87kelce]

—devil in my lap and a cross on my neck

summary: it doesn't take much for travis to get you going. especially after he's been riled up during a game.

warnings: smut (18+ only, no minors), slight angst, teasing, fingering, minor arguments, semi-rough sex, missionary, doggystyle, slight dom/sub dynamics, mentions of breeding kink, minor use of daddy kink, slight choking kink, aftercare

word count: 3017

notes: title taken from the song ordinary life by the weeknd. again, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated 🫶

The past couple of games have been nothing short of amazing for the team, they're on a 3 game win streak and looking to go for another. However, they're currently trailing by 9 points at half time and you can tell the players are getting nervous for the next half, especially your boyfriend. Travis isn't his usual self, he dropped an important catch in the first quarter and he's been worked up over it ever since.

You're sitting in his box with a few of his friends and everyone keeps making sure you're okay, knowing how worried you are about Travis' performance. The players come back out for the third quarter and they seem to be a bit more pumped up this time around. You're still antsy about Travis and you're focusing too much on his first half performance to notice he gets a touchdown, the whole box erupting around you. You shake your head and look up to the screen, watching the replay and celebrating with everyone in the box.

Even after the touchdown, the rest of the game just gets even more stressful, the Chiefs trying hard to fight back points. You're watching Travis like a hawk and you notice he's being agitated by one of the opposition players for most of the third quarter. He ignores it all, but it completely throws him off his game, dropping another important catch. He's so wound up and frustrated and you just wish the game was over already so you can comfort him and take him home to rest up.

The Chiefs fight back a few points in the fourth quarter but ultimately it's not enough for a win and you slump down in your seat when the game's over, staring up at the scoreboard. You catch Travis walking off the field, helmet in hand and not even bothering to high five the fans overlooking the tunnel.

You gave him time to get ready before going down to find him, hoping that upon seeing you, he'd be in a better mood. You waited a few moments, wondering where he was and then a hand was on your shoulder, before he interlocked your fingers together.

"C'mon.. let's go home."

He was blunt, almost pulling you out the stadium to the parking lot and into his car. You debated on whether or not to ask him how he was, but then you knew the response you'd get. So you just sat in silence for a brief moment, before his hand was on your thigh, fingers toying with the hem of your black pleated skirt. He hadn't taken his focus off the road when you looked over at him, but his left hand was gripping the steering wheel, knuckles almost turning white.

"Trav.."

"Don't say anything."

His hand on your thigh started squeezing at your skin, fingers dangerously close to your core. Your hands flew straight to his wrist, holding on tightly as he ran one finger underneath your panties, dragging it across your folds. You leant forward, face leaning into his forearm as he pulled his finger back, before tugging at your underwear. You got the hint and lifted your hips slightly, letting him pull them off and down your legs to pool at your ankles.

You glanced out the window and recognised the surroundings, knowing you were only a few minutes away from his house. All you could do was silently beg him to keep going, your hips bucking up into his hand.

"Easy, easy.. be patient."

You just whined into his arm, sliding down the seat slightly to grind against his hand.

"I said, be patient."

"Please.."

He didn't even respond, turning the car onto his street, before pulling up into his driveway. You started to get out the car, removing your seatbelt but Travis' hand squeezed your thigh, silently telling you to stay still. He then proceeded to get out, walk round the back of the car before opening your door. He wiggled his fingers at you, indicating for you to swing your legs round, before he reached down to grab your panties, stuffing them into his trouser pocket. Standing back, he let you get out the car before he shut the door and let you walk up to the front door, him following closely behind. He handed you the key and you opened the door, walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch.

"Baby.. just sit down and relax, please."

He just ignored you, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a water from the fridge. You watched him take a few sips before putting it down on the counter.

"Talk to me, please.."

"Dropped two fuckin' catches today.."

"I saw.. but there's nothing you can do about it now.."

"Yeah, no shit. I'm still fuckin' pissed off though.."

Your eyes darted to his hand gripping the edge of the kitchen counter, watching his knuckles turn white as he tightened his grip. He dropped his head and clenched his jaw, before he brought his hand up to his face, dragging it down and shaking his head.

"So what was that in the car then?"

"Needed some stress relief."

You just rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and facing away from him on the couch. Now he was even more pissed and you could tell. You heard him sigh deeply before he spoke lowly and authoritatively.

"I'll give you five minutes to get upstairs and get into bed.. and I want everything off except the skirt."

You turned round to face him and he didn't even look at you, his head still facing the ground.

"You heard me."

You should be mad at him. Mad at him for being a dick after the game and barely acknowledging you, mad at him for touching you up in the car and leaving you high and dry, mad at him for starting an argument over something he did. But your legs wobbled as you walked towards the stairs and headed up, into the bedroom, stripping off and leaving the skirt on. You lay down on your front, lifting your legs in the air and spreading them out slightly when you heard his footsteps on the stairs.

Travis waited a few minutes downstairs before following after you, heading upstairs into his bedroom. When he saw you, he stepped towards the bed slowly, hands running up your thighs to your skirt, lifting it up slightly. Travis pushed at your legs, silently telling you to flip over onto your back. When you did as he said, you saw his hands grab at your ankles, pulling you closer to him at the edge of the bed. He then brought your legs up beside his waist, holding the backs of your knees and propping you up.

"This all for me?"

You just nodded, hands reaching down for the hem of your skirt and lifting it up. His eyes darted down and then back up at you.

"I've had a pretty bad day.. you think this pretty pussy can handle it?"

One of his hands made its way to between your legs, his thumb rubbing over your folds and sensitive area, making you arch your back slightly. You turned your head to the side, trying to hide it into the mattress, but then you felt his other hand drop from your leg to cup your chin, turning you back to face him.

"I asked you a question, baby."

"Yes.."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, I can handle—"

"Try again, baby."

"Yes, this pretty pussy can handle it."

"Good girl."

You watched as Travis put one knee on the edge of the bed, moving back slightly to let him kneel down on the mattress properly. He adjusted your legs to drape over his thighs, his hands bunching your skirt up around your waist before dragging them down your thighs, squeezing at your skin. He slightly tilted his head, eyes raking over your whole body.

"Do you promise to be a good girl?"

"Mmhm.. I promise."

"A good girl for who, baby.."

"For Daddy.."

"That's right, baby.."

Travis leaned down, his mouth pressing soft kisses to your cheek, then down to your jaw and then your neck. Your hands grabbed at his shirt, balling the material into your fists as you felt him kiss down your body. He stretched his legs back out onto the floor at the end of the bed, kneeling down and pulling you closer to the edge of the bed, his eyes flicking up at you from between your legs. Without breaking eye contact, he turned his head slightly to press a soft kiss to the inside of your left thigh, then turned his head the other way to kiss the inside of your right thigh.

You dropped your head back onto the mattress, one of your hands gripping the sheets and the other hand moving to your skirt, grabbing it and holding it against your stomach. Then you felt Travis' hands on the backs of your thighs, spreading them out slightly before his tongue was diving in between your folds, causing you to whimper and whine out, tears slightly forming in your eyes. He dropped one hand from your thigh, letting your leg drape over his shoulder while his hand moved up to palm at your breast, squeezing and kneading at your soft skin. His mouth wasn't letting up however, his tongue continuing to lick through your folds, his lips sucking at your sensitive nub. You were already worked up slightly from his hand toying with you in the car ride home, so it wasn't long before you dug your heel into his back, indicating to him you were getting close.

"S'okay baby.. this is the first of many tonight.."

You sighed out and arched your back, before dropping it slowly back to the mattress, letting your orgasm wash over you while Travis continued to eat you out. He did, however, slow down his movements, working you through it as gently as he could. As he pulled his head away from between your legs, he brought his hand back down to between your legs.

"Look at you makin' such a mess for Daddy."

You could only whine, his fingers playing around with your folds, spreading them open and running his fingers through them. He was still kneeling at the end of the bed, your ankle now resting on his shoulder as he watched you relax on the bed. Travis tapped the inside of your thigh and when you looked down at him, he nodded upwards, silently telling you to move back up the bed. You did as he asked, letting him kneel back up on the bed, your thighs once again resting over his thighs. His hand moved back down to between your legs, the backs of his fingers running through your folds, distracting you as he pulled down the waistband of his shorts. With his free hand, he pulled out his cock, stroking it a few times, before pulling his hand away from your core and bringing the tip of his cock to push through your folds.

"You ready, baby?"

"Please.."

"Please what?"

"Please.. Daddy.."

Travis took the hand that wasn't around his cock, and placed it beside your shoulder on the bed, his other hand pushing himself inside you. Your back instinctively arched off the bed again and he placed his hand on your stomach, gently pushing you back down.

"Easy, baby.. relax.."

You sighed out, feeling his head drop down to your shoulder, his lips on your skin, kissing softly across your collarbone area. His movements were slightly slow at first, just letting you adjust to his size like he does every time you're in bed together, but also letting you feel everything. It was always overwhelming in a good way, his cock inside you to the hilt, his lips leaving hot open-mouthed kisses to your neck and his body on top of you, engulfing you as he ground his hips against your core.

Then all of a sudden, Travis pulled out, tugging at your leg for you to flip over onto your stomach. You obliged and felt him kneel up behind you, one of his hands grabbing at your waist to hold you up while the other pushed his cock back inside you. His pace was getting slightly faster now, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing around the room. You knew it was what he needed after the game today, and you were more than willing to let him take his frustrations out on you. Your hands were gripping onto the bedsheets, whining muffled by the pillow for a short second before you felt his hand creep up round your throat, pulling you up and against his chest. Your head fell back against Travis' shoulder, while his hand was holding onto your neck, not too loosely but also not too tight.

"Tell me how it feels, baby.."

"Good.. feels so.. uhh.. good.."

The new angle was driving you crazy, his cock hitting you just right inside and you were almost going limp against him, the only thing holding you steady was his hand on your hip and the other on your neck. He pulled your hips right back against him, his other hand letting go of your neck to push you back down onto the mattress. Travis lifted one of his legs up, placing his foot down on the mattress beside your leg, his hips now pushing down against you. He started up a rougher pace, pulling out all the way before slamming his hips against you, but then slowed down when he filled you up, grinding his hips against you. He took one hand from your waist and bunched up the skirt material into his fist, his other hand moving to spread out across your back, holding you in place almost.

"You hear those sounds, baby? Y'hear how wet you are?"

"M'close.. please.."

"Let go baby.. I got you.."

He pulled out to the tip once again, before slowly pushing himself back inside you, hearing you sigh as your second orgasm washed over you. Travis leaned down, kissing your shoulder and whispering sweet nothings in your ear to relax you, his hand rubbing at your back gently.

"You got another one for me, baby? Think you can come again for me?"

All you could do was whimper, feeling him flip you over onto your back, legs flopping over his thighs and his cock dropping out of you. Your hands reached up for him, grabbing his t-shirt and pulling him down, your lips connecting with his. One of your hands moved up to hold his cheek while the other cradled the back of his head, scratching at his buzzed hair. You felt Travis run the tip of his cock through your folds and you just nodded while kissing him, letting him push back inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut, hips absentmindedly grinding against him while he rocked his hips back and forth slowly. You pulled away from him, dropping your head into the crook of his neck as he rested his forehead on your shoulders. He took one of his hands that was on your hips, to move between your legs, thumb rubbing at your core, trying to pull a third orgasm out of you as quickly as he could.

As you ground your hips against him, you could hear him grunt against your neck. He was close but you could tell he wanted you to come before he did—but he wasn't lasting long. He moved the hand on your hip to place his palm on the bedsheets beside your head.

"M'gonna come.. fuck.."

"Don't.. mmph.. don't pull out.."

You heard him groan against your neck, and then the bedsheets underneath you went slightly taut, his hand gripping tightly.

"Yeah? Want me to fuck a baby into you?"

"Yeah.."

"Wanna be filled up?"

"Please.."

"Alright baby.. alright.."

Travis placed soft kisses to your neck, his hips pushing against you, before he grunted against your skin. You could feel his cock pulsate and spill his load inside you, the warm liquid filling you up. His breathing got heavier as he pulled away from you, only now removing his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He pulled back, standing at the foot of the bed, pulling you close and bending your legs back slightly, watching as his load dripped from your core. He wiped you up clean with his t-shirt before throwing it in the laundry basket. You lay on the bed and watched him remove his shorts, also throwing them in the laundry basket before grabbing a spare pair from the closet. He grabbed a t-shirt for himself, before grabbing another one for you and coming back to the bed. He took your hand, sitting you up and helping you into the t-shirt, before he put the other one on himself. You moved back up the bed and let him walk round, getting into his side, but sliding up against you.

"Sorry for being a dick earlier.."

"Hey, it's okay.. I know you were just frustrated from the game.."

"Doesn't make it okay for me to take it out on you though.."

"Well.. I kinda liked it.."

Travis just laughed, pulling you in closer to him and wrapping his arm around your stomach. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck, closing his eyes. You just instantly relaxed into his touch, letting his hand roam over your stomach, pressing gently and squeezing at your hips, massaging your skin. His lips kissed at your neck again, more softly this time, making your eyes flutter closed.

"G'night baby.. I love you.."

"Love you too.."

He pressed one last kiss to the back of your neck, before he rested his head on his pillow, eyes closing once again as he drifted off to sleep. His light snoring made you smile as you drifted off to sleep yourself, feeling completely safe with his arm around your stomach and his warm body pressed against your back.

[astarasstuff]

night crawler

summary: gojo loses his glasses at a frat party. geto loses his phone. they’ll soon find out what happened when geto’s phone is returned to him, with several drunken videos taken of that night on his camera roll, but not by him.

contents: modern!au, frat!satosugu, partygirl!reader, drinking, slight hints to itafushi but it’s mainly in jest, reader is besties with itadori and nobara but they’re only one year below gojo and geto, gojo and geto think ur so hot and fun and they want to get to know u. u have them whipped from literal video footage go you, horny thoughts from the both of them but no smut, still 18+! mdni!

notes: i can’t be bothered to make this pretty rn, so sorry!

“dude, where the fuck did my glasses go” gojo slurs snapping his head around the room in an attempt to find them. he has spares, but he’d like to find them anyway.

“i’m kinda busy trying to find my fucking phone?!” geto responds, and gojo throws his hands up defensively.

the party was fucking huge. one of the biggest. the college football team, of which both gojo and geto were a part of, had won a massive anticipated game against their biggest rivals. and as such, a celebration was in order.

there were too many people in this party to count. faces of people the boys had never seen before. they don’t doubt that a good bunch of the guests don’t even go to their college. they don’t care. they end up getting too drunk to care about their lost items, convinced they'll find them soon enough. they get busy with the huddles of women that surround them and before they know it they’re either blacked out or passed out, they don’t care.

they do care in the morning, however, with raging hangovers and girls who have overstayed their welcome, of whom they usher out of their rooms as soon as possible. they meet coincidentally in the hallway and make their way downstairs for breakfast.

“dude, suguru, we found your phone!” one of the bros shouts to him and geto sighs a sigh of relief. gojo then whines about his glasses still being missing. he goes off to check the aftermath of the party for his glasses, and gives up when he decides he can’t see them past the red solo cups and dead disposables vapes that litter all corners of the floor.

as gojo potters back into the kitchen, geto is in the middle of checking through his phone, making sure it's okay and trying to find evidence of what happened that night. he soon finds it in his camera roll.

a string of videos are available that weren’t there previously, all of varying lengths. he taps on the first one, as gojo looks over his shoulder in curiosity.

some guys is recording using the back camera, as the first couple of seconds of the video show just the surroundings. the camera then twists around, and they get a look at who’s behind the camera. at first, they just see the guy with pink hair? he’s singing to the current song playing, which happens to be night crawler by travis scott. the frame then widens to allow one more person into the view. and gojo figures out where his glasses went.

coming into the frame was one of the prettiest girls either boy had ever seen. perched on her head were gojo's signature glasses. your voice is croaky as you shout out to the camera.

“we found this phone on the ground! we were worried it’d get smashed so we picked it up but we couldn’t find the owner, so we thought we’d take care of it instead!!" you scream at the camera and get a little too close, evidently drunk.

the buildup of the chorus begins and both you and your friend look at each other with excitement, beginning to dance and sing along to the song. your friend turns in front of you so its just you in the frame, and you pull gojos glasses down from your head and into the top of your nose, looking through them into the camera as you sing along. more of your friends come into frame, and you're all dancing together.

“i don’t know whose glasses these are!!!! some guy just put them on my head but they're cute so i'm borrowing them for the night!! i'll leave them here though! hopefully…” you mumble and then the chorus is about to start and you both start jumping and screaming and dancing, and all the boys can think about is how fucking hot you are and how glad they were they lost their items to you. you pull the glasses down your nose again to wink at the camera as you and some girl they assume is your friend start dancing on each other. both men gulp at the sight.

“fuck, she’s pretty.” geto mumbles and gojo just hums and nods in agreement, almost in a trance. he urges geto to keep watching the videos

the rest of the videos are like a compilation of sorts, mainly if you dancing and drinking and gojo and geto both think you’re so much fun and so fucking pretty, they feel their cocks beginning to strain in their pants. god, you’re so so pretty, gojo just wants to fuck you silly in just his glasses, and geto can stop thoughts of how good you'd look on camera as you cum all over his dick. they both baulk at the sudden debauchery that forced its way into their minds. they try to shake such impure thoughts of someone they don't even know out of their heads.

the next video catches their attention. it's longer than the last couple, and it starts with you propping up the phone on the counter of a bathroom, with your pink-haired friend and a brunette girl who had been dancing with you the entire night. gojo notes that you've pushed his glasses up back onto your head, revealing your full pretty face to them again, this time in better lighting.

"maaan i wish megumi were here!" your guy friend said, as you take your lip combo from him that he'd been keeping safe for you in the pocket of his jeans. gojo and geto begin to worry your relationship with him was not platonic. wait what? "you know him, yuuji, hell would freeze over before he came to one of these" you giggle as you uncap your lip liner and start applying it in the mirror. yuuji. the boys make a mental note at that name.

“stiilllllllll,” he whines, “doesn’t mean I’ll miss him any less.” the other girl in the room laughs at this. “christ, separate yuuji from his boyfriend and all of a sudden he’s pouting like toddler.” you stop applying your lip liner to giggle at her, definitely finding it a tad too funny. you’re cute when you’re drunk, they conclude. “he’s not my boyfriend.” the boy they now know as yuuji has adopted a tone akin to a child being denied their favourite candy at the store. “that’s what you think.” you giggle and move to apply your lipgloss.

now, gojo and geto like to think they’re not absurdly dirty minded. yes, they’re pretty sex driven, as any boy their age is, but they both felt like a pair of prepubescent boys seeing boobs for the first time when you applied your lipgloss to your pretty pretty lips. The colour compliments you so well, and they just want to kiss is right off you, better yet have it smeared on their co-

christ they both need a cold shower.

“girl I’ll never get over that combo on you.” the other girl in the room with you says. “right? i love it so much.” you say looking at both you her in the reflection of the mirror. “god we’re so hot nobara.” you say and this ‘nobara’ squeals in agreement as you giggle together. yuuji smiles at the interaction, and you turn to the camera.

“hey mystery person, don’t we all look hot?” and you swing your arms over your two friends and you look so happy, you all giggling together. god, you were pretty, fun and your smile was gorgeous. did you have any flaws? the boys both startle when you and yuuji gasp as you begin to hear ‘no hands’ by waka flocka flame from the speakers outside the party. “oh fuck i love this song i am not missing it. let’s go!” you squeal and grab the camera, pressing a kiss to the lens as a goodbye.

it wasn’t a final goodbye, evidently, as there were more videos. they were more of the short miscellaneous dancing ones, though they weren’t complaining. your body was to die for, and seeing you move like that? yeah, absolutely no complaints. they make it to the final video, which is just you in what they think is their supply closet? you still have gojo glasses on, and you speak as loudly as you can, music still penetrating to the room with you.

“we’re about to leave! yuuji got to drunk and is throwing up somewhere and nobara is keeping him in check… i hope. so i came to say gooooodbye! this is kinda sad, this was so fun. sorry for stealing your phone for the night, mystery person. we just wanted to keep it safe, i hope you weren’t too worried! im hoping to put it on the nightstand of a bedroom that isn’t currently occupied by horny college goers, so hopefully one of the frat bros finds it and can keep hold of it until you come to collect it! i hope you had as much fun tonight as i did, mwah!” and you finish by blowing a kiss to the camera with a wink. both of them are pretty upset the vlogs have ended, and it’s pretty evident you ended up going home with gojo glasses. oh well, they’re in great hands now anyway.

“you have to send me those.” gojo says after a beat. “in you dreams.” geto replies and gojos mouth drops at this. “it’s my phone.” geto declares. “well, yeah but she was wearing my glasses. and she said they were cute. cmon man.” and they begin to squabble when they’re interrupted by one if the brothers, calling their attention to a guest who probably lost something last night and came to get it back. they don’t expect to see who’s actually there.

it’s you. less dolled up and in casual clothes but still as fucking pretty. you’re evidently tired, and they can feel the embarrassment radiate from you. they immediately stop arguing, geto turning off his phone and turning to face you.

“um, im so sorry to interrupt your day,” you start and they both think about how thankful they were you did interrupt their day. “i, err, i accidentally took home these glasses last night. i don’t know who they belong to, so i thought it was a safe bet to drop them off here in case someone comes looking for them.” you shuffle your feet shyly and bring forth the glasses for them to see. who knew such a party girl could get so shy. god you were so fucking sweet it was almost bad for them. gojo grins and begins to step forward.

“those are mine, pretty girl. thanks for returning ‘em.” gojo grins as he walks up to you. you flush, and geto comes to join his bestfriends side. the pretty girl they’d been entranced by all morning was now right in front of them. and they’ll be damned if they this opportunity go to waste.

[midnightsnyx]

beautiful things p2 | mat barzal

my masterlist & part 1 pairing: mathew barzal x singer!reader summary: the aftermath of the interview. warnings: not edited, a lil angst but mostly fluff! please let me know if i missed anything. word count: 972 author note: i refuse to call twitter X. also there are most definitely inaccuracies but i hope you guys like anyways <3

“Hey, we made it on People Magazine’s Twitter,” Mat says eagerly, and you look up from the journal you’ve been jotting lyric ideas in. He has an endearing and adorable smile on his face as he looks at his phone.

Still, you can’t help but look at him, titling your head slightly “You haven’t been in People Magazine?” 

He laughs but his smile doesn’t waiver. “Not all of us are insanely talented musicians.”

You roll your eyes affectionately and lean over to press your lips firmly against his. The past few months have been nothing but bliss, since you replied to his DM. You were scared to open your heart again after your last relationship but Mat has shown you thus far that if you find the right person, it’s okay to let someone in.

“I don’t know,” you tease, pulling away. “I’ve seen you with a guitar.”

He blushes and tries to hide it by kissing you again. You let him, mainly because you’re enjoying it but also because you don’t want to push. 

You’re floating in pure euphoria right now, enjoying every moment and you don’t want it to end. 

“You’ll come to tonight's game, right?” He asks, brushing a loose piece of hair out of your face and resting a hand on your shoulder. One thing that you’ve learned about Mat is how tactile he is. He always wants to be touching you somehow, whether it’s an arm around your shoulder or holding your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” you promise.

. . .

You love coming to Mat’s games, but some of the girls are still iffy about you which is understandable. You’ve only been dating Mat for five months and you are also in the media which brings a lot of attention. Sometimes unwanted attention. 

You also love your fans but they have a love/hate relationship with your relationship with Mat. Also taking into account his fans, and sometimes it’s too much. Like tonight. 

Everything starts great, there’s not much trouble getting to the stadium, but there are always fans waiting to hopefully get to see a hockey player or get a picture before the game. Someone sees you and then you’re back on Twitter and not the good side of Twitter.

You manage to get to your VIP suite pretty easily, Iris and some of your other friends with you. 

“I’d say I told you so, but you’d probably fire me,” Iris says dreamily, staring at the jumbotron that is showing a live feed of you. You’re not sure if it’s something you’ll ever get used to. You imagine this is what Taylor Swift feels like when she goes to Travis Kelce’s games.

“You just did,” you reply dryly but there’s no malice to your tone. You know exactly how Iris is and you love her for it.

Your eyes go back to the jumbotron, looking to see if they show Mat. You think you can see him on the ice from your current view, but you’re never sure unless he looks up and waves. 

“I’m glad I did, though,” you say and she looks at you for clarification. 

“Message him back. You were right.” 

She doesn’t say I told you so, or say any funny comeback. She just smiles and nods towards where the game has started. 

It’s a tight game and you’re on the edge of your seat for most of it but the Islanders win in overtime with a victory of 2–1, with Mat scoring the overtime goal. You watch the team celebrate on the ice before they head back to the locker room and you pull your phone out, shooting a quick text to Mat letting him know you’ll meet him at his place. With your security and his postgame interviews, it’s usually best to just meet at either of your houses.

You’re sitting with a glass of wine, watching the highlights from other games when Mat gets home. You can hear him drop his bag by the door and toss his keys on the counter before making his way to the living room where you are waiting. Max, your golden retriever is sitting by your feet but his tail starts wagging when he sees Mat. 

“Hey pal,” Mat mutters, bending down to greet the pup before plopping down on the couch next to you. He sighs, staring at the ceiling like he’s thinking hard about something.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask, putting your glass on the table and turning towards him. He turns his head towards you and opens and closes his mouth a few times. You’re starting to get nervous when he speaks.

“Move in with me,” he whispers and you freeze.

“Mat-”

“Look, I know it’s only been five months but we spend all our time together anyway. We’re just bouncing between houses.” He reaches out and takes one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “Let’s make it one house.”

The thought of moving in together absolutely terrifies you, but when you think about it, he’s right. If he’s not away for games or you’re not doing shows, you’re together and when you think about the future, Mat is standing next to you.

“Okay,” you say and his eyes widen. 

“Really? I thought I was going to have to get on my knees and beg,” he says and you’re not sure if he’s kidding or not.

So you shrug. “You make valid points. Plus, I think Max would like not to be shuffled around so much.”

He grins and leans in to kiss you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you murmur when you pull away and then Max jumps up on the two of you as if he knows a decision has been made and Mat almost falls off the couch but you have never been happier.

tag list: @ilyrafe

[ethansluvbot]

hotch unconsciously favouring new bau!reader and she doesn’t even notice 😭😭 she just thinks he’s super sweet and everyone is like 🤨🤨 where’s our special treatment aye?

WHERE DO WE GO NOW | A. HOTCHNER

warnings: mostly fluff, but a kiss?

an: SORRY I TOOK SO LONG HOPE YOU LOVE IT, ignore how bad im at writing like technical fbi stuff lol

as he returns to his seat on the jet, hotch gives you a pack of food and some water. you put your earplugs back in after grinning and thanked him. morgan smirked at his boss's strange actions, but he remained silent.

"all right, let's briefly review the case's facts. while morgan and prentiss travel to the M.E., jj and reid head to the crime site. y/n and i will head over to receive a briefing. okay, everyone, let's get going."

you smooth your dress down and collect your belongings, trailing hotch in the process. as soon as you enter, he opens the door for you and goes inside for a briefing.

"the victim's boyfriend last spoke with shelby at 9:02 p.m. we spoke with the bartender at jack's bar, where she was around for the majority of the evening at 9:30. we are currently obtaining the security footage from her. tell my staff or me if you need anything."

spencer said as he left the room, "i'm going to call garcia and ask for access to the security cameras sooner rather than later."

"how's jack doing?"

"he is doing well! he does, however, truly miss you, especially your homemade chocolate chip cookies."

"does he miss the cookies or do you?" you chuckle.

Thinking to himself, "I will not answer that question," you smile and wondered who else he let his guard down for. we was always open to you, even though he never discussed his past with others.

"what would you say about you, jack, and I visiting the aquarium? ever since you got him that ipad, he has been telling me about dolphins, and i get texts all the time."

as he takes a sip of coffee, reid enters the room and says, "garcia has found the camera footage. what did I ruin something?"

1 HOUR LATER

"as of right now, it appears that the unsub prefers women who are between the ages of late 20 and early 30. Every victim carries a huge risk, and I think he enjoys the possibility of exposure. kidnapped from bar parking lots despite the fact that his face is constantly hidden. he has a dark-colored van and it's clear by the signature he injures the victim, since he has a long-term damage of his own.

"y/n i would prefer if you would lay low on this case, you fit the profile and i don't want anything to happen to you."

"are you certain? given the profile, it could be the greatest option for us."

he nods while leaning back in your chair, knowing that he thought too highly of you to see you be in harms way. you have no idea how much more than you realized he cared for you.

"fine, do not put yourself into a situation where you know it will end bad."

the remaining members of the team carrying on the discussion regarding the unsub's actions. garcia chiming in with men who match the description. you gently brush your hair away from your face and glance at the hotch. even though you quickly avert his gaze, you can still feel his eyes on you.

"i'm sorry to break this terrible news, but I believe there is a match for this suspect. i'm sending you travis's records and the last two address on file." the group leaps up and sprints towards the available cars. together, you and hotch jump into the car navigating your way to his address.

you get out of the car as soon as you get there. as you search the house, some of the team arrives, and you head upstairs. Your mouth is grabbed by a hand and you are slid into a room. you fall as a result of your head slamming into the wall.

you were able to get up and cause him to lose his balance by kicking the back of his knees. your body reverts to its limp form. travis limps his way back toward your body. there's a shot, and you reach for your gun. You turn to face the hotch, who is gripping his gun.

You say, "thank you," as he helps you leave the house. doctors are rushing to your side right away. hotch stays by your side throughout the whole thing. It is a blessing to have someone who is as concerned as he is.

He asks in jest, "so you still up for the aquarium?"

TINY BONUS

With your earbuds in but the volume down enough to hear the entire conversation, the team continues to tease you on the flight back. "Where's our special treatment?" you chuckle to yourself in private.

[haee-elia]

spence-tober: day 28 - baseball player

pairing: baseball player!spencer reid x fem!singer!reader

summary: in which your pro baseball boyfriend and you, an international sensation, navigate your newly public relationship

word count: 1207

warnings: yes this is travis kelce and taylor swift coded

spence-tober masterlist

You find Spencer on his phone when you join him for a quick break. He’s been sitting in this back room, your dressing room, since you left him there. You told him he could go out and explore, but he seemed eager to instead wait for you in your own space. You can’t blame him either. 

Even in the inner walls of the stadium arena, you can still hear faint cheers and girlish giggles from your fans outside waiting in the parking lots for a singular glimpse of you. Or better yet, you and Spencer together.

Since the news had broke that you two are dating, fans and paparazzi alike have been staking out where you’ve been last seen for some juicy photos of the two of you holding hands or getting into a car together. Anything to confirm the news of your new relationship.

“Hi, babe!” You say, greeting Spencer and getting his attention as you walk into the room. Your hand holds a towel and you wipe the sweat off your brow.

Instead of any of your elaborate gowns or costumes for the show, you simply wear a basic graphic tee and some comfortable biker shorts. 

Spencer smiles at your entrance into the room, “Hi, sweety.” He greets you as well.

As you walk towards him, he takes you into his long and muscular arms, wrapping them around your waist and pulling you into his lap. His phone long forgotten.

“Tech issued a break to get everything organized. Do you wanna go for lunch?” You ask as you bury your head into his embrace. He does the same.

There’s a bit of hesitation and you know the cause of it. “What if we ordered in?” Spencer inquires instead.

You nod, “That could work too.”

It’s the constant presence of all your fans outside that deter the two of you from going out for lunch somewhere in the city. Not only are a bunch of your fans in the city because of your six nights straight of shows, but it would take a lot to coordinate a simple lunch.

There would be transportation, clearing out of a restaurant, being able to have security be around you all, and that still didn’t guarantee a peaceful dinner. You both knew by the time you made it back there would already be pictures being posted by Twitter and it would be making it’s way onto every gossip site.

“Do you still have practice tonight?” You ask Spencer. 

He nods, “Yeah, late night practice. Sorry I can’t make it to the show.” He apologizes.

His arms rub your back soothingly. The muscles along his arm are pronounced and chiseled from the years of baseball practice and playing. 

Moments like these are scarce. Spencer playing during the long baseball season in the MLB and you touring around the country and eventually the world, singing to millions of adoring fans. 

Six months of game playing and then more of conditioning and practices make it hard for Spencer to be able to fly out and visit you wherever you currently are. It’s just beginning his season, which means it will be a while until he can fly out and join you for the rest of your tour. 

You shake your head, “It’s okay. Hopefully you can make it to one of them while I’m here.” You say.

Spencer nods, but he can’t make any promises. Baseball does have a schedule, but it can take one injured player or a bad loss game for the coach and team to devise more practices.

Contrary to the publics belief, you and Spencer had been dating for much longer than they thought. They only now just caught on when the two of you decided before his upcoming season to softlaunch your relationship by you watching his game, sitting up in the VIP box with Diana and a few of Spencer’s friends.

In reality, during the off season Spencer had connected with you and the two of you started to tentatively date. You had been in the midst of planning your tour and Spencer’s spare time wasn’t spent conditioning or honing his skills. It was the perfect amount of time for the two of you to start building your relationship, getting to know each other, and start dating.

Now, with your tour about to set off and his long season about to start, you and Spencer felt like the two of you were about to enter trials testing your relationship. The time change, the distance, it would all culminate and strain the bond you’ve formed. 

“How long do you have for your break?” Spencer asks as he rests his forehead against yours, intimately. 

“An hour, maybe two.” You answer him, whispering with how close you are. “Why?” 

You pull away from him to get your phone out of your pocket in your shorts and issue a short text order for lunch for you and Spencer.

“I just wanna hold you.” Spencer says simply.

You understand what he means. When both of you weren’t performing or playing and in your off seasons, you had all the time in the world together. It’s already been hard on the two of you, being touch starved and on a time crunch.

“Well, I ordered some lunch and then after, you can hold me as long as you can. Until they come to pull me out of your arms. Promise.” You assure Spencer, while still sitting in his lap.

“That sounds good.” Spencer mumbles, wrapping his arms around you even tighter. 

“Are we doomed?” You think outloud. There’s no doubt about what you might be speaking about. 

Spencer sighs. The thought had been clearly on his mind as well. 

“Well, the season’s gonna be long. But after, I can come join you. We can call every day and if we’re in the same city we can see each other.” Spencer plans outloud.

You nod, “We can. I just-”

He knows. “I’m scared too.” He finishes your thought. His hands grip around your waist and his fingers rub your hips in comfort. “But what would we be if we didn’t try, right?”

“Right,” You confirm, a wisp of a smile on your lips. 

Spencer always knew exactly what to say. You hadn’t followed baseball before you met Spencer, but when you were getting to know each other you were searching up every interview, every game, everything that had him in it. Later he would admit to doing the same. 

But he was the one who convinced you to give dating a try. Even though you’re a popstar who performs for a living, you are incredibly shy and wasn’t sure if getting into a relationship with someone who was as busy as you are was a good thing or not.

“You know, there’s supposed to be some rain tomorrow.” You comment offhandedly. Spencer gives you a look, unsure of where you are going with this. 

“My team told me we might have to delay the show tomorrow night. You think you might get rained out?” You ask tentatively. “We might get some more time together.”

Spencer smiles and lays his head back on the couch.  “I’ve never wished for rain so much in my life.”

a/n: this one if you couldn't guess is heavily inspired by travis kelce and taylor swift. the news broke about their relationship when i was originally planning out all of these drabbles for october.

[twiishaa]

and the rest was bassically history: track 001. unsteady basslines

🎧 masterlist for this smau 🎸⋆⭒˚.⋆

🎶 currently playing : fe!n by travis scott ✩°. ⋆⸜ 🎶✮

there was around 10 minutes until the curtains rose for COMET’s special performance at the Extracurriculars Fair, but backstage, the group were on the cusp of a disaster.

asahi, their bassist, was nowhere to be found.

it had been like this for a while, he was absent in their conversations online, constantly trying to make his presence smaller in their live performances since, and avoiding anyone and everyone, including his band mates. but they thought it wouldn’t come to this — that, even after everything, he’d still preform with them, they were a team, right?

apparently not.

asahi had never felt more alone than he did now; standing at the back of the building, listening to the havoc wreaking inside. he didn’t want to leave his friends hanging like this anymore but he just couldn’t face the crowd.

the extracurriculars fair, one of the most popular events of the university’s calendar was today, and COMET were set to preform a surprise set at the end. however, after the release of their new EP two weeks ago, the group received criticisms for some of their songs, the hate directed almost all to asahi. he didn’t have the courage to stand up and preform again. he couldn’t take it anymore, breaking down into tears behind the building. pathetic.

semi checked outside one last time, in the audience, and even on the balcony. asahi wasn’t anywhere to be seen. yn followed in close pursuit, almost bumping into semi when he stopped abruptly.

“any luck?”

“yn, we’ve looked here about a million times. he’s not here.”

yn looked down, her eyes filling with guilt.

“what do we do now?” yachi was halfway up the stairs to the balcony.

semi sighed. “we’re just gonna have to preform without him today.”

“what? we can’t do that! asahi’s one of us! the songs are gonna sound so empty without him!” yn exclaimed. semi gave her a knowing look and she looked back at yachi. the three of them descended the stairs to meet with tsukki. he knew what the plan was from their eyes, and nodded.

kiyoko tapped yn on the shoulder. “the last club are wrapping up now, you guys should get into position.” she was always good at reading the room.

“still haven’t found him?”

yachi shook her head. “we’re gonna have to preform without him…” she trailed off after seeing a tall, brown haired boy behind kiyoko. he smiled awkwardly, making an attempt at waving.

“he was backstage and heard about asahi going missing, and apparently he knows the bass line to your songs,” kiyoko started.

“well, i know some so if it’d be any help to you..” the guy tried to explain himself to the four, slightly confused members of COMET.

semi and yn glanced at each other, and then at the others. handing a sheet of paper to him, semi said, “here’s our setlist. i can write down some of the chords if you want here but just keep a steady beat and let me know if you need anything else. there’s a spare bass over there.” he pointed towards a few spare guitars, amps, mics and basses.

the brown haired boy studied the paper after taking it from semi, and bowed slightly. “thank you! oh- i’m oikawa by the way.”

kiyoko looked at yn, and with one glance could tell she was in for a long debrief after this.

🎧 notes 🎸⋆⭒˚.⋆

guys i told you id release it soon

there was originally more, but i thought it would be too much in one chapter so expect track 002 very soon … 😈

love replies telling me what you think!! love you guys!!

🎧 taglist: @turquoisenintendo64 @laughingfcx @riverharkness @walllflowerrrsss @jtaimeurmom @saaavsha-0924 @itsdragonius @tar0star @applemiffi send an ask or comment to be added to taglist!! 🎸⋆⭒˚.⋆

[pauking5]

Runaway 🏎️ Chapter 3 🏁

Pairing: Naozumi Hiyama x fem reader oc

Genre: racing AU, enemies to lovers, sports rivalry, suspense, a whole lot of teasing, gender power games, spice

Word count: 15.2k+

A/N: Curious who's going to catch the Tokyo Drift reference 😏 Hope you're ready for the storm cause lightning and thunder just met for real in this one. It was literal hell to write at times, but I wanted to get more accurate with it and bring you as close to the view in my head as possible, so sorry for the delay. Tried my hand at writing tension so I hope it's good. Enjoy lovelies. Smooches to you :)

Raiko's Playlist: Bad Boy - Red Velvet, High Horse - Kacey Musgraves, Antisocial - Ed Sheeran, Travis Scott, True Disaster - Tove Lo, "good guy" - Against The Current, Summer Jam - 99 RZNS, John Gibbons, KOOLKID, How Bad Do You Want It (Oh Yeah) - Sevyn Streeter, Pump It - Black Eyed Peas, Tokyo Drift - Teriyaki Boys, Morning After Dark - Timbaland, Nelly Furtado.

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Day 3 of Tour de Tokai - Final stages

The sun was up before you could catch any sleep, peaking through the thick blinds with bright beams. That brightness didn't bode well with the small hangover brewing between your pinched eyebrows. A remainder of the excessive amounts of champagne you drank last night and the really excited twosome next door, working hard to drill a hole in the wall behind your head all night long.

At one point, they quieted down and you were near falling asleep until they went at it again and again, and you contemplated sleeping in the bathtub.

Putting on your golden blue team kit and the darkest shades you could find in the mess of luggage, you packed and dragged your heavy bags into the hallway and pressed the button on the lift for reception. You caught your reflection in the shiny silver doors and thanked god no one saw you yet. Your hair was a half-tangled mess, hidden under the team baseball cap well enough. Only two days on the job and you already had sunken in eye bags, but those were probably from the amazing beauty sleep you had the night before.

I had better days, you blew out a breath pulling up your shades.

Bags checked out and safely loaded into the airport car until later, you headed for the track. Walking out to the biggest stand on the hill overlooking the road for today, you scanned the grounds. It was still pretty early but the crowds were already making their way to the stands to get the best seats - right in the sputter of a dusty drift corner. The dirt must be doing wonders for their skin if they paid so much to sit there willingly, you thought, grimacing at the dried up mud painting most of the sun-bleached seats.

At least it was a quiet spot to just do some people watching and wake yourself up. You watched the food court vendors open the back doors to their vans before getting to work on the food. Some people were sat on the trunk of their cars, huddled in blankets or hoodies, eating a makeshift breakfast before queuing up for entrance. The race marshals were putting up the access signs and doing other maintenance checks.

The spring breeze blew softly feeling like a refreshing cup of coffee you didn't have yet. Early mornings like these were the best. Just quiet and mundane. Slow and pleasant.

Your peaceful perusal was interrupted by a figure settling in on your right, mimicking your leaned back posture on the wooden fence next to the race banner, hands crossed over your chest and all. You didn't even need to look over to know who it was. The expensive combination of lemony vanilla and other bitter, citrusy fruits entered your nostrils like ten meters ago, before he even stopped next to you.

How can someone so irritating smell so good?

"How did you sleep?" he spoke, voice low and husky, still laced with blissful sleep. A luxury mere mortals are unable to acquire at the expense of divine hedonism. Though, if that was how gods fucked, you wished to never hear it again. The girl's moans replayed like a broken record in your head even now, voice sweet like cotton candy reaching impossible notes.

Jesus Christ, you shuddered, trying your hardest to get rid of the image you just accidentally put in your head.

"I didn't," you said with a tight-lipped smile, turning to the devil beside you. He did look well-rested. "Hearing your name being moaned until three in the morning kinda ruined the peace one needs to sleep."

"I told you to join us," he shrugged, like he was asking you to join a grocery run and definitely not a threesome call. "It was a good sex catch."

I hope that angel never comes across his dick again.

Staring ahead, you hoped that if you ignored him, he would make himself scarce like he did last night at the car reveal. Instead, he leaned over to your side, lips slightly brushing the side of your ear with another offer that made your skin crawl with tendrils of chills, branching out from your nape all the way down to your spine.

"You know, we could've moved the show to your room. Get you out and about with the masses. Learn a thing or two."

You could taste the malice in his voice, looking to throw you off with raw sex talk. He pulled back to his corner, that annoying grin bright as day on his face, way too enthusiastic about his choice of words after last night.

He should work on his sweet nothings some more.

"I have my fair share with the masses. Don't you worry your frozen little braincells with that," you said, trying to shake off those chills still dancing on your spine.

"Ah, so she does get action," he laughed dryly, tilting forward with another remark he was better off keeping to himself. "I couldn't tell."

A little burst of mischief raised in you, so you turned to face him fully, pulling your shades off. Your body acted on a mindless spurt of small revenge as one of your hands lapped itself around his shoulder, gripping the other in balance and to pull him towards you, while the other rested on top of his chest. Under your palm, his heartbeat was calm and steady, just like the engine of the car before the race.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you scanned his face to see the ever-present amusement etched into every chiseled dent of his jaw, high cheekbones and perfectly angled lips. You wondered if dimples would pop out on the sides if he ever smiled for real, not just in a teasing manner or for show. Was he even capable of smiling?

The more your eyes drove up his face, the wider that eager glint in his eyes got. In the morning sun, rising brighter over the hill behind you, golden beams reflected off his orbs much like fiery bronze specks glinting off regal statues.

That eagerness turned to confusion when you inched closer to his ear, your lips brushing his in the same way his did. Your breath ghosted over his neck and you felt the smallest rise in his pulse, the muscles in his back tensing under your hold. You spoke small, but loud enough to cover the buzz of the rave music catching volume in the stands, making sure he received every single word.

"You know what would be a better catch?" you asked, tone sweet and tempting like a fiend.

His head craned down slightly and he quirked an eyebrow at you, curious as to where you were taking this. Only for it to not be in the direction he expected it to go in.

"Breaking that penis of yours in two and scattering pieces of it on the track like it's fucking gravel for everyone to drive over it. That," you enforced your threat with a swift gaze at his precious groin then moved your eyes back to his, "would be the catch of the year."

His lips parted in disbelief, the smug look on his face gone completely, as if you just detonated a bomb with his very own hand on it.

That was an unofficial war announcement. Jaw tightened in bold offensive, you stood your ground waiting for his retaliation. Your hand was still on his chest waiting for that spike to come again. But it never did.

Slowly but surely, the look in his eyes morphed to one of challenge, burning with the dire need to crush you to pieces for that daring threat.

Was this a novelty to him? A woman driving the reality train through his brain without having her legs open for him? Possibly. Because his smirk was now taut, filled with the same vindictive goading you carried. Just a tad bit darker and full of hunger for battle.

"I would like to see you try, rookie."

Rookie.

That nickname was starting to get on your nerves. Though there was no lie in it because you were a rookie in the sport, the way he said it implied that there was nothing else to you but that - a clueless beginner that will always stay a clueless beginner. Belittling at its finest. Your temper didn't buy belittling very well.

"Listen here you asswipe-" you started, only to get cut off by Don Tanaka's voice closing in behind you.

"Rai, the crew's waiting for... you..."

The words died in Tanaka's throat the more he took in how curled up you were with Naozumi. At first he was about to reprimand you for dealing cahoots with the enemy again, but when his eyes fell on the teeth grinding murderous looks you both threw each other, he decided on breaking it off before the interaction turned violent.

"Rai, step away from Naozumi."

"This. isn't. over," you gritted out with poison, plying yourself away from him.

Pushing your sunglasses back up your nose and throwing one more sharp imaginary knife right in the middle of his annoyingly handsome face devoid of imperfections, you sourly turned and left with Tanaka.

"I think it is, princess," he muttered behind you.

"Just you wait."

The really funny thing about curses is that they never truly... leave.

They might take a break and sip a cocktail somewhere sunny, like the big white-bearded gramps dressed in red does in his vacation after Christmas, letting you bask in some sort of chill ambiguity that all is well and perfect. Until nothing is well and perfect. Just absolutely horrifying and close to provoking a collective meltdown. Quite like the one in your team pen at the moment.

The team was gathered around the car with discouraged looks decorating all their faces as Sentaro, the main mechanic, relayed the news to you. Not one soul moved, everything and everyone as still as your shut off engine.

This had to be some sick joke. There was no way this is happening.

"What do you mean I can't go out on track today? You're joking right?" you laughed nervously, trying to stop your eye from twitching violently.

Apparently, the mechanics tried to start the engine and black smoke came out of it. While that issue was partly because of a clogged air filter that was vacuumed clean now, the engine also overheated to the point they thought it would blow up if they let it run longer.

From your brief experience with cars and growing up around the team garage, you had a feeling of what the issue could be.

"Is the dashboard blinking with the high oil pressure sign?" you asked Sentaro to which he nodded in response.

You were in front of the car in an instant, popping the hood open to check the oil injection. Pulling out the dipstick on a clean cloth your assumptions were proven right, though you wished they were horribly wrong. The rough dirt roads from yesterday definitely took a toll on the engine's oil filter, judging by the black sludge you were met with instead of the normal light brown color of the motor oil.

Dropping down to the ground with your phone's flashlight, you looked under the car and sure enough, there was a trail of the same dark goo leaking out from the car. The oil filter was the problem. And lucky for you, the oil specialized mechanic wasn't here today.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," said Tanaka, leaning on the side of the car. "There's nothing we can do."

Before you could even browse solutions, Kate ran in the pen nearly tripping over her feet. Thanks to Tanaka's steady hold, she landed upright on her feet, giving him a shy look of gratitude that didn't go unnoticed by you. They held each other's gaze for a while, not one thought behind them but a tinge of affection.

Realizing they had an audience, she cleared her throat stepping away from him. His hand shot up to rub his nape with a nervous smile.

What was that about? you thought, scrunching your nose inquisitively at the two. The faint blush spreading on her cheeks and the playful look in his eyes was a bit of a dead give away of what went on between the two. The car issue was more of a priority right now than their mutual fancy. I'll pester them about it later.

"What's up, Kate?"

Your voice seemed to break her out of whatever reverie she was having.

"The pre-race press conference starts in fifteen," she announced, eyes grazing over your team kit before flying back to yours with confusion. "Why are you not in your racing suit yet? What's going on?"

"I'll explain on the way," you replied hastily.

You moved away from the car to grab your bag and went to change in the trailer with her following in tow. Turning back around, your eyes flew back to Tanaka and the rest of the crew.

If the big man was here, he would know what to do. But he left for Tokyo early in the morning for a business meeting with a new sponsor. You were completely on your own with the team, and from the looks of it, it was time to take the lead.

"Nothing you can do," you said with a small smile trying to bring some optimism back into the sour mood. "There's something I can do. Just don't touch the engine until I'm back from the conference."

"Also, go tell the organizers I'm retiring from the first stage and keep them posted on the second one," you told Tanaka, ignoring Kate's gasp of shock. "We might still have a shot at points today. We worked too hard to let that go."

With that, you ran back to the trailer behind the pen, getting changed while Kate's worries doubled and spilled over yours in a frenzy of overly dramatic and stressed hand gestures.

"What do you mean retiring from the first stage? Are you crazy?"

Taking off the kit with a grunt, you made haste for the fireproofs and the suit.

"Not crazy," you groaned, pushing your legs through the pants of the racing suit. "Just trying not to freak out because it won't help anyone if I do."

"The car has an issue that's preventing me from taking part in the first stage today, but I hope," you breathed out, struggling to pull the top part of the suit over your hips, "that we can somehow get it out on track at least for the second stage."

With the already smoldering heat outside and your growing nerves, the ensemble felt so uncomfortable to wear. Pulling your arms through the sleeves and zipping it up to your neck, you fiddled with the soft collar unable to close it properly. Kate swatted your hands away to help you fix it so you could be out the door. Though you couldn't do that without your driver's card that was nowhere to be found.

"On a scale of one to ten, how big are your hopes of that actually happening?"

You stopped your relentless searching for your identification lanyards only to find them in the safe hold of Kate's hands.

"A solid eleven," you paused, grabbing them with a grateful smile. "On a good day. We'll have to see if today is one of those."

You were out of the trailer in no time, heading for the conference room while she ran you through possible questions you could get asked by the stingy reporters. Before you went on stage to take your designated seat, she pulled you back around for a last check.

"You know what you have to say?" she asked, placing her hands on your shoulders to make you focus.

Narrowing your eyes at her with a 'I'm not a child' look, you recounted the rules of publicity she made you repeat before each press meeting. Or more like your very own not so accurate version of them.

"No snarky replies, wait for my turn and try to maintain the already crumbling image we have. No biggie."

She smacked your cheeks together, shaking you hard to bring you back from sarcasm land. Better sarcasm than a full blown meltdown. You rolled your eyes at her dramatic antics, reciting the actual holy trinity of rules to get her off your case.

"If it's not for my own benefit or the team's, don't reply. Avoid all questions about my or dad's personal life with a simple 'no comment'. Keep levelheaded and avoid conflicts of interest," you finished confidently, but with a slight confusion on the last one.

She nodded with a bright smile, letting go of your cheeks. Whirling you around, she made quick work of your hair in a ponytail and fixed your team cap on top of your head to look more professional than you felt at the moment.

"You've got this, Rai," she encouraged sweetly like she always did. "I'll be right here in case of anything."

"Thanks Yuzu," you smiled at her, trying to ease her stress before it rubbed off on you, turning you into a ticking bomb. "I owe you one."

"You owe me more than one," she quipped as a matter of factly.

"Yeah, yeah," you waved her off, turning for the stage. "I'll tell dad to add a holiday bonus to your paycheck."

"All debts are paid," she replied, sounding like an ATM machine that just cashed out your first salary before you even saw it in the account.

You went up the stairs, taking a seat behind your name tag, near the middle row on the lower side of the makeshift stage. Most drivers were already in their seats waiting for the show to start so you could all be on your way. You caught sight of Akira about two chairs down to the left, already clocking you with a small wave.

At least there's some sunshine in the world.

You leaned over the seat, turning the mic away. He scooched over, meeting you halfway with a short smile that was enough to send butterflies swarming wildly in your stomach.

"Hello there."

"Hi," you replied sheepishly. "You ready for today?"

"I hope so. The tracks today look way better than whatever the fuck those three were yesterday."

You both shared a horrified look remembering the disaster that almost left your cars in totaled wrecks the day before.

"What about you? Ready?"

"It's complicated," you looked down in disdain, conscious of the mess awaiting you in the team pen after the conference.

What was the point in elaborating further? He's going to see the scoreboard anyway. The retirement issue was better kept under wraps for now, in case press inched to you like leeches before they even got to ask you a question.

"Hogging my seat doesn't look that complicated."

That tone of mixed delight and irritation could only belong to one person. That and the shady vibes prickling the hairs on the back of your neck like the very shadows of death were about to swallow you into the underworld.

Sure enough, craning your head backwards Naozumi was right behind you. Alarm bells rang in your head replaying his words again. His seat? What the fuck is he on- Your eyes fell back on the name tag right beside yours, reflecting Naozumi Hiyama back at you, bright as the light of day. Oh.

Naozumi was to be seated on your left for the next half an hour. What a joy. For some poor sick bastard, definitely not for you.

How did I not notice it before I sat down? I could've switched seats with the backfield guys in a heartbeat and no one would know a thing.

Looking back behind you, your small hope was crushed as most seats were taken up already, busting your escape plan. Your gaze landed back on the man, now more interested to know how much of your conversation he heard.

"How long have you been standing there like a scarecrow?"

"Enough to almost physically gag at your conversation."

Ah, there he was. Repulsion in human form. Wonderful.

You bid Akira an apologetic smile and leaned back in your seat, letting nation's finest walk by to take his own. He held onto your backseat to let himself down in his. Leaning way too close to you again, you caught an extra accidental whiff of that expensive perfume of his, toned down by the scent of the burnt rubber fumes caught to his suit. You turned your head away with a breath, resisting the urge not to choke. From the snicker on his lips pointed downwards, you could tell he did that on purpose. Fucker.

It wasn't long and the press conference finally commenced. As expected you weren't first in line for questions, both to your relief and growing unease. Your thoughts ran back to the car. The longer you spent here, looking pretty for the media that could care less, the less time you got to spend on fixing the car. Changing the oil filter was relatively less time consuming than the oil draining and changing. Besides, who knew if there weren't other problems. There were always problems.

Tapping your feet impatiently under the table, your eyes trained on the digital clock at the back of the room, mentally pushing the flickering red dots bouncing between the numbers a tad bit faster. Boring questions aimed at the other drivers went in through your ears, fading together, getting lost into an incorrigible mess of side thoughts, all while you dissociated somewhere far away.

At some point, something heavy moved on top of your leg that seems to have taken on incessant bouncing. You broke your eyes away from the clock to check. Thinking it must have been a bug or your sleep-deprived hallucination, you were beyond surprised to see a hand resting there, all five fingers of it splayed wide on top of your knee, nearly enveloping it whole.

Following the path of the muscular, veiny hand to the grey material going up the plush arm of a racing suit, you found it connected to Naozumi's shoulder. His gaze was set ahead with his chin propped on his other hand, a bored look taking over his usual amusement.

Is he looking for entertainment again?

Focusing your attention back on the press crowd, you went to push it off briskly. You felt it slide off your leg, shutting your eyes in relief that he let go and didn't put it back, going back to your daydream.

The clock ticked by infuriatingly slower, and by the looks of it, only ten boring minutes passed. You resumed your foot tapping, unable to keep cool without releasing tension in a way that kept you calm and levelheaded for the rest of the conference. You even started repeating Kate's set of three rules, again and again, until they blurred together in your head into a mess of words.

Unconsciously, you resumed the knee bouncing. That's when the same familiar weight sat back on top of your knee, trying to cease your restless shaking. You groaned mentally, aware that there was nothing else you could do but let his hand sit there until he got bored of being annoying.

Was it weird that the touch gave you a small ounce of comfort? It was so far from an actual touch, closer to a simple brush. But it grounded you back to reality in a less impatient way than your nervous foot tapping.

Jesus, Rai. The man fucked the sleep out of your brain last night. He's trying to get under your skin.

Leaning forward on your hands, you shifted your position so your feet crossed under your seat in hopes his hand would slide down again. His grip never lessened, turning firmer on top of your knee, seeing right through your trick. You huffed a breath through your nose, trying to calm down before you shoved your fist heavy with rage in his beautiful face to do some overdue damage, since he was asking for it so nicely.

In your line of sight, you saw him reach down for his water bottle, right beside his leg. His hand trailed down your calf with the movement, only for it to slide back up to its original spot on your knee.

This wasn't anywhere near comforting. This was teasing. Maybe even payback for this morning for invading his space with violent threats of castration. The side of his lip curled up in the slightest, letting you know he was enjoying tormenting you a whole lot.

Since he's so into masochism, we'll see how brave he is next time when I sneak in a lighter. The suit might be fireproof but I don't think his fingers are.

Somewhere between Naozumi's idiotic game and your patience running thin for the male species, the press finally remembered you existed and your name was called out by a reporter.

"I'm Hina from Daily Times. I have a question for Rai Suruki of Suruki Racing."

"Go on," you nodded with a smile.

"There haven't been a lot of female entries to rally in past years. Are there some goals you hope to achieve with your participation in the Seiko Rally Cup Series?"

That was quite a nice question. She seemed a little unsure of herself, probably new on the job since she was already being mangled down by the experienced male gazes in the room, especially from the reporter clique.

Turns out rally isn't the only industry where women are not welcomed.

"Well," you started, "I hope that if more girls see me out there on track, they can gain the courage to get racing too. Be it karting, rally or any other series. I grew up seeing my father's generation race and it felt daunting getting into it in the first place, since there was little to no female involvement. But times are changing and I hope it's for the better. Goal-wise, I would say the biggest one is to get girls into the sport, technically or behind the wheel," you ended with another smile, making sure she got a good amount of detail to work from.

That encouraged her to show you a bright smile in gratitude before she sat back down. You nodded back at her with one that matched.

"For Raiko Suruki, from Automotive Racing," called out another reporter, much older than the rest. "Heard the car is totally self-manufactured. How's the pace on track so far?"

Ah, technical questions. I like those.

"So far it's good. We're still testing bits and pieces to see what works best, but so far it's responding well to our tinkering. Like any car there's setbacks, as you may have seen in the previous stages, but we're working to remedy that and maximize its current performance. There's a lot of power under that hood and we're trying to see just how much of it we can bring out."

He nodded, scribbling down your words in a stacked leather notebook filled to the brim that has definitely seen better days. At least that said he's passionate about the sport and not just here to get a quote for a flimsy article. True to that, he geared up with another question.

"Performance progress-wise, do you think it's a car able to compete for the cup this year? Maybe even to reach the WRC?"

It was a reach to aim for the title, knowing the team barely got back on the road. But it was a goal nonetheless.

"Absolutely," you answered right away. "We wouldn't be here if it wasn't. As for the WRC, I guess it's all in due time."

"I'm looking forward to your evolution. Thank you," he concluded his short round of questions, sitting back in his seat.

"One more question for Miss Suruki," shouted another reporter. "From Tokyo Action Sport."

Uh-oh.

Tokyo Action Sport was one of the big ones Kate told you to be wary of. Due to their huge coverage of all sports around the country, sports buffs took their word like it was the weekly Ten Commandments in print form. That and the fact that they liked to scandalize most, if not all of their headlines - basically the foul celeb tabloids in dirty sports version.

From the way the reporter twirled the pen around his nimble fingers and the sneer on his face as he skimmed over his fancy notebook, you could tell he was looking for another front page story with an equally disarming question at the ready. You nodded for him to talk, bracing yourself for the incoming attack.

"Last night, at the official car reveal, you said you will compete for Suruki Racing until the team no longer wants you," he started, lifting his icy eyes from the paper to cut through you. "Does that mean your contract has an expiry date?"

If there was a question that, when uttered out loud, would have the power to open the gates of hell, it would be this one.

Expiry date? Driving for the team that has my name on it? Fuck me if I know.

Your nervous tapping resumed tenfold, forgetting all about Naozumi's hand that was still stationed on your leg, now struggling to stay there in the wake of the shaky earthquake coursing through you with the sharp truth of the real world.

You never thought of the possibility of driving for another team. Right from the start, Suruki Racing was to be your forever home. For Christ sake, you were the only hope for the team to stay alive at the moment. But that was just your opinion, maybe Tanaka shared it. But the team might still be adamant to take you as their only viable option and that might just be the case for your father too.

Nothing guaranteed that you will always be their number one choice.

"Why did Suruki Racing pick you out of the wider talent pool out there?"

"Are you trying for yourself or for him?"

"Do you consider yourself a challenge to the rest of the drivers?"

Your nervous shaking was several tempos away from rattling the panel table and attracting attention you were better off without at the moment. The aftermath of that happening was already in sight.

Suruki Racing's finest cracks under the pressure of her first press conference, would read the first page in the later Sunday print.

Is Suruki's own bloodline able to keep the legacy with no surety of a long-term contract? another one would say.

If you were lucky they would put it on the second spread or in the middle pages next to some old car adverts. But the worst part of it all is that the majority of the rally community, including the panel of drivers around you, would wholeheartedly agree with the newspapers.

Maybe this was just you making movies in your head but those were always possibilities upon possibilities and they all pointed to failure. Your failure of saving the team and seeing it succeed if you caved in to them.

The weight on top of your knee moved higher up your leg, stopping mid-way on your thigh. Enraged out of your mind, you were about to swat if off like a fly just when Naozumi did the unthinkable - his thumb started rubbing the side of your leg in circles over the suit, alternating patterns. You could feel that touch burn even through the triple permeable fireproof layers, sending all your senses in override, heartbeat pounding louder in your ears with each languid stroke of his thumb.

Was he trying to calm you down? Or was this him riding on the wave of anger surfacing from the depths of your very being to make you inch closer to exploding? Because there was a thin line between the two and you struggled to find which direction he was steering in today.

Strangely, that mildly provoking but oddly comforting caress worked. It calmed you down and drowned the black hole your mind went down into, bringing your focus back on the task at hand - giving the reporter an answer before your silence was taken as one.

"I'm afraid not," you responded, your voice bouncing back way too quiet on the microphone for it to sound like you were sure of yourself.

A handful of chuckles erupted behind you, rippling down into the audience and the rest of the media crews around the room.

"Everyone has an expiry date on their contracts, doll," commented a gruff voice from behind you. "Better find it out before the press does," they added with a chuckle.

You turned around to match the rude remarks with Katsumi's face, driver for Top Rank Racing. From what you knew about the man, he's been in rally long enough to know that he was right. Though he could've delivered that a bit more nicely.

Casting an unsure look at Kate, you saw her beckon you to say something else, mouthing several pointers that fell unheard with your growing unease. There was nothing else to say. That was the pure truth. No one had a safe seat in rally, except if you were Akira with loads of talent or Naozumi with a shit ton of cash to throw around. But you... you were lucky if there was a next year for you at all. And that might just be the case for your team too, whether it takes off or it burns to charred ashes again. Whether they keep you with them or not. And that realization hurt the deepest of them all.

"There you go again with useless questions, Misano," spoke Naozumi, successfully diverting your attention away from a meltdown.

His voice carried out smooth like whiskey over the shushed murmurs in the room, able to charm the attention of even the stingiest creature. His dark brown eyes were throwing sharp daggers with the aim to impel the man in the middle of the press convoy, almost like he had some personal vendetta against him, able to see past his journalistic tricks better than anyone.

From the few words he uttered your way you could tell why.

"Why don't you wrack your brain for something more interesting to ask?" he added bitterly.

Misano could only glare at him, shifting his attention from you to the man beside you, much more poison seeping from his tone at being interrupted.

"I was just about to get to you Naozumi. Impatient as always," he sneered. "I do have a really good one," he chuckled lowly to himself, like he was about to get the scoop of the century.

Naozumi was absolutely unfazed by his tactics. Just like you were, before he opened his mouth.

"You and Shinkai are in quite the fight to reach the higher ranks of the WRC. Did you solve the misunderstandings from last year to prevent more incidents from happening this time around?"

Naozumi laughed dryly at that, averting his eyes away from the man so overzealous for drama. When his eyes fell back on him, it wasn't with the same playful gaze reserved for toying around with people, but with raw hunger to rip him to shreds until every other word he was dying to write was out and cut to tiny little pieces on the floor.

Even you shuddered at the intensity of that look. You thanked the heavens it wasn't directed at you. If you were in Misano's shoes, you would shove those words back down your throat and run to puke them out somewhere they would be more well received, like the trash can outside, right around the door. That might do everyone in here a favor.

Naozumi finally let go of your leg, turning around in his seat to face the press with more interest. You breathed a small sigh of relief at the loss of contact. But a small part of you mourned the reassurance it provided for a short while, letting the nerves about your future race back up your spine again. At least they were dimmer now, since you put your focus on the charade of power to your left.

"If by misunderstanding you mean forced damage to my car," paused Naozumi with an icy grin matching the gaze that never once faltered from Misano, "then no, we didn't solve anything."

He delivered that affirmation so smoothly that even you leaned over the table to get a better look at him. Contrary to the calmness in his voice, there was a furious annoyance taking over his features. One far more irritated than the other looks you've seen him sport in the past three days.

"You can't solve misunderstandings with hardheaded people," piped in Akira, matching the same sweet venom in Naozumi's voice.

Naozumi could only smirk coldly, dropping his gaze to his team racing suit before he aimed it at Akira.

"That's where you're wrong," corrected Naozumi. "You can't solve misunderstandings with irresponsible people that can't admit to their faults."

It was Akira's turn to be vexed, staring down the man on his right. Those eyes, softer than melted chocolate, turned into the most violent tempest catching speed by the second. Though he wasn't necessarily asked a question, he was just as involved in the one served to Naozumi, so he turned to Misano with a comment.

"I think what Naozumi means by that is that some things are better left in the past. Or swept under the rug for the sake of it."

Point, aim and shoot.

"Let's leave the talking to the track," grinned Akira, patting Naozumi's shoulder in feign respect.

Naozumi broke into a toothy smile, tongue coming out to swipe over his teeth in disbelief. That smile grew and grew until it matched Akira's, just like a Cheshire cat. Then he leant over to him, whispering something in his ear. A threat you just so happened to hear.

"Stay the fuck away from my track. And don't fool yourself that thing was accidental to free your conscience" he mumbled.

The cameras flashed to immortalize the moment, making sure to get all sides of the burning declaration of war. They held each other's gaze with impending rage, pumping hard enough to blow out big dark fumes like messenger torches.

Keeping levelheaded and avoiding conflicts of interest was a rule their agents were probably negotiating with them, not even close to being able to enforce it.

From the looks of it, there was way more tension between the two than they let on with those loaded glances passed from one end of the paddock to the other in between stages. They had history that was better left unraveled for the sake of the rest of the season.

I take it back. The car reveal was a baby next to this shit show.

After that, the rest of the conference went by uneventfully. Surprisingly. The stifling tension however, was still palpable in the air. It was crazy how just one question from Misano turned the mood salty real fast. He hasn't asked anything else ever since, sitting merrily in the audience with a smug smirk, utterly pleased at causing an uproar.

The rest of the reporters went for decent questions as the drivers geared up for mayhem on track. As soon as the organisers let you, you dashed outside, welcoming the fresh breath of air and freedom away from that purgatory room.

Got nine more of those to endure.

"Not bad for your first press conference, rookie."

Was that supposed to be an encouraging pat on the back? If anything it sounded haughty and kind of condescending.

Does it hurt him to shed off some of that superior complex thing he has going on?

Upon remembering his game back in the conference room, you whirled around to him instantly, backing him in a corner so no one could hear your murderous intentions. The flames inside of you were leaping high and violent again. But that must have been the Naozumi effect at this point - setting you on fire then walking away only to come back and kindle you again whenever he saw fit.

"Don't ever touch me again or I will rip your hands and shove them down your cars' exhaust. Understood?"

"It was a good distraction though, wasn't it?" he smirked, pinning you with that knowing look of his that made you want to spit fire like a dragon.

"It was so fucking unnecessary-" you stopped, the rest of your words dying in your throat. "It was so -," you growled. "You're so -"

You gave up on speaking. There was no point in explaining why punching him was the right thing to do because the more you looked at it you realized he was right. That playful stroke was a good distraction from going berserk with all those demons patiently waiting to pick you apart like flies that dove into shit on the side of the road. Even if it was for a while, he managed to calm down your stormy temper. It was a miracle for anyone to even do that in the first place.

He leaned down to you, stopping just a few inches off your face. His eyes drifted down to your lips for a brief second before securing your gaze again with that dark look of his that has probably disarmed more girls than you could count on all your existent fingers, hands and toes included.

"That's what I thought," he said as teasingly soft as a brush on canvas.

Before you could say anything else he walked off, leaving you dumbfounded with your tongue poking your cheek, and kind of questioning your sanity.

He's so goddamn infuriating.

Back in your pen, you took off the suit, changing back in the team kit and made a beeline for the car. There was no time to waste. The crew gathered around you in a heartbeat, waiting for your directions.

The skilled gazes laid on you, full of years of garage work, made you very aware of the fact that they expected full professionalism from you.

God, I hope this works.

"Okay so, we need to change the oil filter," you started. "The oil inside is contaminated and from the looks of it, it's not usable anymore. The filter itself appears to have blown a gasket, so that too needs replacing," you finished in one breath.

"But our oil person isn't here today," Akio, one of the mechanics, pointed out.

"Mister Hinode isn't," you sighed, hoping the old man was enjoying himself for taking the day off today of all days. "But I am. I watched him change enough oil filters back at the garage to know what I have to do."

"Very well. Lead the way," he replied with a nod, fully placing his trust in your hands.

Though slightly unsure, the rest of the team followed. Looking back at Tanaka, you saw him nod too, letting you know he had your back. At the silent show of support, you pushed the nerves away and got to work in your full element.

"What I need from you is a car lift, a drain pan, the new oil filter, and four or five liters of motor oil," you told the team. "Draining it will take about an hour, more or less, and replacing it a little less in theory. We have less than four hours until stage two so we can't afford to lose any time if we want to get something out of today."

"You heard the girl," clapped Tanaka, moving to get all hands on deck. "Let's move."

You turned to Sentaro and the electrical engineer.

"I need you guys to run the electrical checks again, now and after I finish changing the filter, in case anything else goes off and needs fixing so we're on top of it ASAP."

"Got it. Also, regarding the oil pressure, it was on high levels last night when we brought it back from the event, but we thought it was from being out on track for so long," he said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. It can happen out of nowhere too, especially considering the roads I drove it down yesterday. But do ping Mr. Hinode in case there's something we're missing."

"Thanks, Raiko. You're a lifesaver," he said, walking back to his laptop.

Eh, I'm a what now? you blinked trying to take that compliment in. Shaking yourself out of it, you rolled up your sleeves to your elbows and worked to lift the car at an angle you could fit under it.

Pulling over a creeper, you leaned back and got under, looking for the oil plug under the dirty chassis. Finding it right away, just a little off the underside of the front bumper, you unscrewed it with a wrench. Barely twisted open, the splotchy black goo started spilling everywhere, much more liquid and disgusting than you thought it would be. What was on the dipstick was nothing compared to what spilled out on the sides of the plug. It smelled horrible, like murky grass and three days old mud had a biochemical hazard lovechild. And there was about four liters of that to drain out.

The more you unscrewed the plug, the more it splattered everywhere, some of it flying in your hair. Jerking away so it wouldn't land in your eyes, you turned the plug tugging it off completely. The oil flow doubled right away and you realized you should've had the drain pan under it before you unscrewed it.

"Fucks sake," you grunted, holding out a hand to whoever was close by. "Loosen the oil cap on the top and hand me the drain pan."

A hand pushed the drain pan into your own and you moved fast to shove it under the oil drain, to avoid more of it staining the asphalt.

You slid out from under the hood to breathe in some fresh air, meeting with Kate and Tanaka's faces, looking at you with matching disgusted looks as they took in your very contaminated appearance.

"Your face..." started Kate, pointing at your face as she pinched her nose.

"All natural," you shot back. "You should try it sometimes."

Tanaka howled a laugh as he pulled you up from the ground, handing you a few clean cloths. You wiped your hair as best as you could, frowning at the dirt coming out of it. That will take a lot of showers to take out.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait. And make other checks on the car to make sure nothing else is broken."

Come on, pick up.

Pacing the dusty ground above the stands, you listened as the line rang and rang, each dial tone pumping the nerves back in your system. You were starting to regret this until he finally picked up on the seventh ring.

"I'm in a meeting right now," filtered your father's shushed voice through the phone.

Of course he's in a meeting. That's why he left early this morning. In the chaos with the car and the press, you forgot all about that. Now the scope of the call didn't even really seem that important anymore, preoccupied with the fact that you interrupted something that probably was.

"Raiko? Are you there?"

A car whizzed past on track, pulling roars of cheers from the crowd, prompting you to find a quieter corner.

Was there even a point in asking that?

Fuck it. Just get it over with.

"Does...," you started, but the rest of the words got lost somewhere in the mess in your head. You took a deep breath and tried again, this time sounding a bit more composed. "Does my contract have an expiration date?"

He could tell something was off. You could be as composed as you wanted, but your father could always pick up on the uncertainty laced in your voice.

You heard shuffling, rushed goodbyes and a door closing shut, before a chair creaked. His voice came through more clearly now.

"Of course not. I told you you're welcome to drive for Suruki Racing until you no longer wish to."

Those were the same words you said out loud to the reporter just last night, so sure of yourself and knowing what you wanted that it would be impossible for anyone to second guess it or even challenge your claim to the seat in the team. Until smug-face opened his mouth to comment on it in the press conference today.

"Is everything alright, Rai? I know I left in a rush but if there's anything you need, please let me know."

"Everything's alright," you reassured him, trying to sound more on top of the situation than you felt. "Sorry for disturbing the meeting."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I could use a break," he chuckled, making you chuckle too.

It was so good to finally talk to him like that. Like you were father and daughter for once in a while, before being team principal and driver.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked again, willing to listen to any concerns you had, big or small.

"Yeah," you sighed softly. "It is now. Thanks dad."

He could tell there was more to it than you were telling him, like the issues with the car and missing the first stage, but you didn't push it. Tanaka would catch him up on it later anyways. There was no use in railing him up on a plane right now.

"Always, firebolt. Good luck out there."

That always was your I love you. He wasn't one to be a softie for cheesy stuff, like blurting out those three words, but that always never failed to reassure you that you'll get through anything and come out on the bright side. No matter what.

"Good luck to you too," you piped up, ending the call.

Looking ahead, you caught sight of the Spica Racing blue hues right on time, approaching a rocky corner. Naozumi took it so effortlessly before diving into the last drift portion taking it wide, closer to the barrier, lifting the dust and gravel off the ground to fly off in the stands like a gust of sand.

You backed away coughing a little, shaking your head with a smile at the gesture that was one hundred percent intentional.

At least someone's having fun today.

You got back to the pen at the same time Naozumi pulled up. He got out of the car much more pleased with his run than he has these past few days. He didn't even yell at his engineers this time. Peace and quiet ruled the Sigma Racing pen surprisingly.

Unfortunately for your short lived peace of mind, he caught sight of you and turned your way with a smile as wide as his pride must be flowing in from head to booted feet for completing a stage this nice. If only you had the chance to go out on the road too.

The closer he got to you, he eyed you from head to toe, taking you in all your muddy glory, scrunching his nose at the smell that was still glued to you like you sprayed on intense dirt road cologne. The nasty kind that barely washes out of your clothes after rolling in it. Your clothes also reeked of motor oil. If someone had a flint they might as well light you on fire if you just breathed in their direction.

"What happened to you?" he frowned. "Did you DNF into a bush of skunks or something?"

"Haha, really funny," you deadpanned. "I didn't even start the race for that matter."

Throwing a look at the scoreboard in your pen since it was closest, he scoured all the names of the drivers until his eyes landed on yours, staring back at him with a DNS in bold letters, right at the bottom of the grid. Shameful and defeated wouldn't even begin to explain your sour mood.

"What? How did you even manage that?"

Was he actually concerned or was he just planning to fumble the bag for more insults based on your answer? Closing in on the playful glint in his eyes, it was probably the latter and you were not in the mood for it. At all.

"Engine issues," you sighed, slumping in defeat.

It's been half an hour and you were still waiting for the oil to finish draining before you could actually fix anything. Time was ticking away and so were your hopes of somehow participating in the second stage.

"You missed a spot," he said, gesturing to your face.

Bringing your hands up, you wiped them everywhere coming up entirely clean. Is he seeing things?

He shook his head before coming closer, wiping his thumb over the tip of your nose. Your heart thrummed in your ears, drowning everything else around you but his touch and how close he was. Feeling the callused pads of his fingers on your skin, without all those fibrous layers of the suit between you, felt like being touched by millions of sparks of electricity at the same time. Heat surged on your cheeks quicker than you could hide it.

Him being him, he just had to ruin the moment. Not that there was one there.

Instead of getting the splotch of mud away, he smudged it all across your cheeks with a grin.

"There. Much better," he concluded, stepping back from you, proud of his outstanding work of art.

That only provoked you, flipping the switch on your rage. You kept it under wraps long enough and at this point, he was just asking for it. Not your fault his decency sensors must have been broken since he was born and folded in a blanket.

"I told you not to touch me ever again," you rasped, swatting his hand away a bit too violently.

"Hmm, I don't recall," he hummed, wiping his thumb on his suit to get rid of the dirt splotch he scooped from your nose. "It was probably an empty threat."

An empty threat? Hah. He's really starting to piss me the fuck off.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Because he had many of them and most of his recent issues included disturbing your peace on an undetermined period.

"I don't really have a problem, rookie," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Stop calling me that," you seethed. "I'm not a rookie," you breathed out with eyes closed to try and calm the fuse inside of you before it blew. Though you didn't mind if it blew in front of Naozumi's face and set him on fire a little.

"Oh, but you are." He took a step closer to you, broad shoulders branching out to appear more intimidating. "Need I remind you that you stepped foot in the car not even two days ago? A rookie stays a rookie until they prove themselves worthy of the road."

"You think you're the shit, don't you?"

"And you are?" he chuckled darkly. "You don't have the guts for it. Why don't you go back to being daddy's little spoiled princess, driving plastic cars, since it's very obvious you can't drive a real one?"

Naozumi had a talent at making sure his words drove straight to their recipient, cutting deeper than intended, at times with a purpose more painful than the edge of a knife could do damage.

But words were empty to you. You trained yourself not to believe the little white lies and rumors people tried to feed you to stay as far away from letting it affect you as possible. This was just another one of those confrontations meant to throw you off and undo the steps you've already done on the climb towards the top.

Hard pass on downgrading. But nice try.

"At least I'm not the idiot that wrecked the car in the easiest turn in the whole region just yesterday, driving it full speed with an engine failure only to blame it on my team. It takes real skill to pull that off."

His jaw ticked with fresh blood. You definitely ticked a nerve with that. If you're throwing knives at each other, might as well throw them deep just for the funk of it.

"At least I didn't get a DNF and a DNS first time on the job. Your father may have put that winning image in your head to motivate you, but if you think it will be that easy, you're wrong. You will always be a rookie and there's nothing you can do to help it."

If that was supposed to make it hurt more, boohoo, it missed it's mark. Kinda late to the pity party. Might invite you next time.

"Oh, you're one to talk," you scoffed incredulously. "You're nothing without your team and you can't even see that. What's gonna happen when they all walk out and leave you stranded to work on the car all by yourself? Will you magically pay your way out of it by hiring other people?"

"That's none of your business," he hissed.

"Real drivers help their team," you growled.

You were overtaken by a sense of kinship for your team stronger than anything the world could say or throw at you. He probably knew nothing about what it means to make constant sacrifices for something you love body and soul. But he sure had the nerve to come and preach it to you like a total hypocrite since the rules of normal society apparently don't apply to him but they do to everyone else.

"You don't get to tell me how to be a driver," he shot back, tone becoming more menacing with every word.

"And you don't get to trample all over my hard work. My team's hard work. Don't talk to me about privilege when you're living off it just fine."

You didn't even notice you closed the distance to him, getting right up in his face, seeping into his space once more, this time with a different kind of savagery - one that felt a lot like unleashing chaos. You were a brief remark away from spearing your claws out for some physical atoning.

"You don't know shit," he growled, towering over you. "So I suggest you to back the fuck off."

"Or what?," you gritted back.

The corner of his lip turned up with a dark wicked smirk, a warning pledge of fast approaching colossal disaster, just like the words rumbling out of his throat, low and deep like thunder.

"I'll make sure the rest of your time here," he paused, raven eyes boring into yours with intensity before he whispered the last words a mere breath away from your lips, "is a living hell."

A living hell?

I'm already living hell, pretty boy.

You simply chuckled at that. He had no idea that you laughed in the face of danger. He must have thought you were crazy for it. It took more than a threat to steer your wheels in that direction. The direction of sin.

His head tilted in slight confusion at your reaction, though his eyes never left their furious fire behind. You quipped a brow, silently accepting his challenge, wondering just how far he could go to prove a point and preserve his pride in the face of a mere rookie.

"I'd like to see you try."

"You're gonna regret this."

This man loved to make enemies with everyone. But he picked the wrong person to start the fight with. Unfortunately for him and his loud wrathful thunder, vengeful lightning always strikes twice. Always.

"We'll see about that."

Not another word came out of his mouth. But you knew better than to accept his silence as a retreat. His mouth curved, a devilish grin over it, as if he already started devising a wicked little plan in his head to pull the earth from under your feet when you weren't looking.

Regarding you with one more look full of hatred, he pulled back, walking off to his pen.

Little did he know, he just met his match.

Regrets... you had many for yourself. But you were sure as hell that him of all people was the last one to add to them.

Never in a million years would you let that happen.

I wouldn't wish hell upon anyone. Especially mine. But if I had the choice to curse one person in the whole wide world right now...

I would curse him in a heartbeat.

You were sitting outside the pen, glaring at Naozumi's back, until Tanaka called out to you.

"Raiko. The oil has drained out.," he said, stopping in his tracks. "What are you doing out here?"

Googling ways to overcome your enemies with the power of forced distance.

"Nothing," you scoffed, heading back inside.

Time to get dirtier than my soul.

Taking your place back under the car, you worked on changing the oil filter with a new one. Screwing off the old filter entirely by hand, the leftover oil spilled everywhere again. At least there wasn't that much left in the basin to really stain anything.

It would've been nice not to have to do this with your bare hands, but you've been Mr. Hinode's human flashlight enough to know that the filter can only be tightened by a bare hand to make sure it's in the right spot and that none of it can leak out.

"Could you hand me a filter wrench?"

"Here," popped in Akio's head, who now became your human flashlight.

"Thanks."

A little shimmying and the old broken filter finally popped out with the rest of the oil leaking out down your arms. The last drop fell on your forehead. A good luck omen? We shall see.

Passing it to Akio, you motioned to him to shine some light on the broken filter. You noticed the head gasket was indeed damaged.

"Is the new filter ready and rubbed with oil yet?"

"Yep. Good to go?"

"Yeah."

Checking the engine block with the flash light one more time to make sure there weren't any other bits or parts stuck inside, you tried putting the new filter in. You struggled to make it do inside the engine block, moving down a little farther under the car. Not a fun thrill to experience with a ton hanging above you lifted by a tool weighing less.

Please don't crush me, hun. I drive you but I can assure you that you don't want to drive me.

Spinning the part to the right, you finally got it in, puffing out a breath. You screwed it on until you felt it stop turning. You gave it another spin with your hand before you tightened it with a wrench the rest of the way.

"We should be good to go now. Pour the motor oil in."

One of the mechanics poured the oil in on top. You waited to see if any of it would still leak out only to see none.

The new oil filter was successfully attached.

Well fuck me, I just did that.

Rolling out from under the car, you breathed out a sigh of relief as the team started applauding you and howling your name out of nowhere.

"Raiko! Raiko! Raiko!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

They all laughed at your antics. Tanaka and Sentaro pulled you up as the rest threw their cloths at you to send you to shower. Your team kit was sticking to you like you just took a dip in an oil lake, save for the sweat rolling down your back. That one belonged to you.

"You smell as bad as the car after a day on track and I'm saying that in the nicest way possible," said Akio.

"Haha, really funny," you laughed, throwing some of the cloths back with oil stains. "If I had a hose I would drench you all. Don't tempt me."

Little did you know that someone came around to check out what the ruckus next door was about. He watched you from the sidelines, running around to smear the oil on your hands on whoever landed in your range of attack. Most of them didn't even move, welcoming your attack with defeated smiles. The corner of his lip tilted up in a delighted grin at the scene.

Maybe I underestimated her.

"Everything's got the green light, right?"

"Yes, Raiko," Tanaka reassured you for the hundredth time since you stepped in the car. "All other car checks came out good. Stop stressing."

"I'm not stressing."

Well, you kinda were since you lost a lot of points by retiring from the first stage. You needed a clear head before the race and after today it just wasn't happening. You fixed the car before it was time to race, but if you didn't do right by this one, you could kiss any advancement ahead in the series goodbye.

"You saved us today. Any other driver would've ripped their contract to pieces in front of the team if they had to get anywhere near motor oil."

"I think you're forgetting I'm not just any driver," you smirked, pulling your helmet on. "Let's do this shit."

You went out there and enjoyed it for the first time this weekend. Your run was smoother than anything else today. The corners were mostly wide, mid-range turns, and the car felt great with the new oil change. It would be another 3000 miles before you had to change it again and hopefully, the filter would last longer than that.

Even Tanaka seemed to enjoy himself. He didn't reach for the door handle not even once like he was used to whenever he was in the car with you. You did accelerate faster in some turns watching his hand come up halfway only to stop and retract back.

"6 left 100. Flat out."

One hundred meters left to the widest corner left in the race.

Come to mamma.

The dirt flew up in the air behind you, leaving a trail of dust on each side. You dove closer to the left where the stands were, taking the last corner with a large drift that rose up huge clouds of sand from your rear. You heard the roars of the crowd before the puckers from the slide over the gravel, all getting lost in the rave music booming through the speakers.

This is what racing was about. Leaving it all in the hands of the wheel for two minutes where the world quieted down. Being on a one track mind.

Once every driver went for their run, you sat on the hood with the rest of the team waiting for the final update of the track times. You chewed your lip in thinking, tapping your foot on the floor.

I hope all those sacrifices weren't in vain. We all worked way too hard to fall off the track right now. We need this right now.

The scoreboard loaded to display the first three names and all heads perked forward. No one spoke. Not even the wind dared to rustle a banner.

1st place - Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory

2nd place - Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing

3rd place - Takatoshi Tohira - YM Works

Naozumi's ego was strong today. He just so managed to bag podium after that whole show of arrogance. Fucker. Pushing your annoyance for the man away, you focused back on the board.

Come on, load faster.

4th place - Katsumi Ishibashi - Top Rank

I can kiss top five for Tour de Tokai goodbye. So long world.

5th place - Raiko Suruki - Suruki Racing

What the fuck-

Loud cheers erupted all around you like the national football team just won the World Cup. That was totally impossible but you did it. You placed in the first point rankings. You were in top five! Still far away from the podium, but at least you didn't fall off the scoreboard.

Before you even said anything, the screen updated to display the Drivers Championship standings so far.

1. Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing - 61 pts

2. Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory - 53 pts

3. Neil Emerton - Cusco Racing - 47 pts

4. Takatoshi Tohira - YM Works - 38 pts

5. Fairuz Badawi - Eliot Racing - 31 pts

6. Katsumi Ishibashi - TOP RANK - 28 pts

7. Raiko Suruki - Suruki Racing - 25 pts

"It's not much, but they're good points," said Tanaka, patting you on the back. "Amazing work today, lightning strike."

Turning back to everyone, you called out to them. The team gave you their full undivided attention. Your team. Most of these people saw you grow up from a rowdy teenager into the driver you are today. They were more than your team. They were your extended family. You owed them everything.

"I know dad's not here today, but someone has to do the honorary speech" you clapped your hands together, trying to will some normal words out.

"I wouldn't have been able to get out there without you guys. You're the reason this team works like oiled parts, no pun intended."

Some of them laughed at that. You happened to have your father's humor.

"I know there's no podium celebration for us this time, but I will work even harder to bring it to you soon. For now, please rest up, eat well and stay safe. The Fuji Highland Masters round is nearby so we need to get in the gear for it soon."

"Raiko! Raiko! Raiko!"

"Guys, please stop," you giggled, suddenly flustered at all the attention. "Come on, go home. Before the organizers kick us out."

Grabbing your duffel bag with your things, you went back to the race banner. You pulled out your phone and took a photo of it and a selfie.

Your career officially started. It was a rocky start and the climb up to even get a chance at podium was even rockier. But you were willing to fight for it with your teeth.

Suruki Racing was born again this weekend and you were planning to keep it alive for longer than it has before.

Turning around, you cast a look at the podium. Naozumi just received his trophy, smashing the champagne bottle to spray the crowd. That million dollar smile was back on his face, wider and brighter than you've seen it. It almost looked real. Among all that lust for fame and money in his blood, he looked like he fit right in with the haze of celebration. Like he was made to be a winner.

On the other side of the podium, Akira lifted his 2nd place trophy too, fully enjoying the squeals from his fans. You didn't know what came over you, but you pulled your phone out to snap a picture of both of them for safekeeping.

Spotting you on the side about to leave, Akira took off in your direction. His hand tugged on your arm to spin you around.

"Hey!"

"Hey, you," you smiled. "Second place, huh?"

He looked down at the trophy with a small smile, not really reaching his eyes like usual.

"Yeah. Not my best drive but it's alright."

"Could say the same."

"Are you coming to the party?"

"The famed afterparty on Naozumi's yacht?" You looked back at the podium, watching him throw the champagne bottle down his throat, spilling everywhere on his suit in the process. "No, thanks. I'll pass."

"He wants everyone on the grid there. Though I would much rather not go, my agent said it's good publicity. To tame the media after that stunt today or something like that. So, come with me."

After declaring each other mortal enemies, you wanted nothing to do with Naozumi at all. Not even being in his range of view. Going to a party, on his yacht, in the middle of a body of water was the last thing you needed.

"I'll think about it."

A staff member came to pull him away for a quick press interview. He seemed adamant to leave but you waved him off. You were in need of a shower before the mud became one with your skin.

"I have to go," he pressed his lips together in a smile, dimples popping on the sides. "See you back in Tokyo?"

"Sure."

Would going to that party be so bad? I could definitely use some alcohol and if it's free, why the hell not? He must have expensive alcohol on board. I can let my pride go for a free drink.

There was no lie that Tokyo's skyline looked so magical at night, especially on a yacht ride down the central river. Skyscrapers stretched out into the sky, multicolored lights blinking back at you with sparkles. The rich really had this superb view every night and they barely took a ride here if it wasn't for business purposes.

At least yours truly knows how to pick a party location.

Speaking of the man of the hour, you counted about eight girls around him from your secluded spot at the bar. You could hear their high-pitched voices all the way there, asking him all kinds of questions about himself and the car. He just hummed in response to all of them, focusing his attention elsewhere.

If today wasn't so shit and he didn't literally declare war to you, you might have just been a tad bit happy for him. The most you mustered was a mumbled congratulations when you boarded the ship. He just passed you a grin and left it at that.

He doesn't deserve my cheerfulness. He gets it from the world enough as it is. Plus the fact that he invited everyone on his yacht just in spite.

None of the drinks at the bar were for free and most were too expensive for your pocket, so you had to drink a mocktail. Even his hospitability was in mocking.

More girls scooched closer to get a piece of him, tanned arms and bare legs brushing up against him from all sides. He didn't even seem to be bothered in the slightest that his space was being taken up. But he did mind when it was you doing it.

"Then let's make a toast again!"

"Cheers!"

"Congratulations on being the champion!"

The girls cheered and clinked glasses, sipping on the expensive champagne. He joined on the clinking too, though he didn't drink with them, keeping his glass aside.

His eyes drifted from the champagne glass in his hand to you. The small smile on his face turned into a smirk of provocation. A smirk that went right to the epicenter of your rage. He came to kindle that fire again.

Before you knew it, you made a beeline through the crowd stopping right in front of his table. The girls shot you disapproving looks, sizing you up and down in every way they wanted. Picking apart your messy, tousled hair. Your tomboy outfit. Some even mumbled something about your nails not being in fashion. You shot them a look and they stopped looking at you altogether.

Naozumi just regarded you with a knowing look, averting his eyes to the water surrounding the boat in dismissal. You just stood there with your arms crossed, waiting for him to stop his passive ignorance.

"Got something to say to me, rookie?"

Would he explode if he just called me by my name?

"I do actually."

"Then," he extended a hand around one of the girls getting more comfortable with her. She snuggled into his body, giddiness taking over her for getting so close to him. You could feel the jealousy oozing off the other girls, waiting for their turn. "Let's hear it."

He really does have a thing for public humiliation.

Akira stepped beside you, lightly pulling at the sleeve of your leather jacket to get you away from trouble. Little did he know you loved trouble more than anything in the world. Especially when it involved a certain know-it-all with an annoyingly handsome face.

"Rai, let's go," he muttered, aware that some people turned around to watch the scene. "You're better than him. Don't give him the satisfaction."

"I wasn't talking to you, Shinkai," spat Naozumi, not once lifting his eyes away from you. Not even when the girl at his side caressed the side of his neck with obvious want. "Go lick the boots of your own team principal."

"Talk, rookie. Or did the cat get your tongue?"

You want war on and off track, Naozumi?

You have it.

The words were out of your mouth in a heartbeat, not one thought behind them. Nothing but the sole need to see how he would react to being challenged publicly.

"Let's settle it on the road. You and me. Our cars back at the docks."

An illegal race on the streets of Tokyo. Might as well be career suicide for some. But you had way too hanging by a thread, while he only had his pride. Taking that away would be like shoving him off his throne and sitting on it like it was yours.

Best case scenario, you win and leave him with a shattered ego.

Worst case scenario, you lose or end your career.

The only good thing was that the odds were in no one's favour out there on the road. It took skill to win an illegal race in a city that was built up on street racing of the highest stakes.

"What does the winner get?"

"Always so set on winning, aren't you? Would losing something dim your small manly pride?"

His tongue pushed his cheek in the same annoyed manner it would at his brother reprimanding him for being incapable of listening to simple directions.

"That's between you and me," you added, settling on making this as private as you could.

The sudden realization was written all over his face. He knew what you were referring to since you threw his very own words back at him.

"A rookie stays a rookie until they prove themselves worthy of the road."

Ripples of gasps echoed around you, people already murmuring things about you. Until the rumors started being directed at Naozumi and his ability to drive. It was time for him to prove himself worthy of the crowd as well.

Naozumi sat back swirling the champagne in his glass until the liquid was left without bubbles. He seemed to give it a good thought.

There was that curiosity dancing in his eyes again. The same rush of novelty measuring up on your very own. He wanted to know where you would take this if he gave you the chance.

"Fine by me," he said, taking you up on your offer.

Shaking off the female arms circled around him, he got up and threw back that glass of champagne emptying it in one go, before calling out to the captain to turn the boat around. He walked to you, stopping mere steps away from you.

"Where?"

"The hill over there down to the docks. No time cuts, no tricks."

"You shouldn't drive after drinking," you remarked.

He smirked, taking one more step towards you. "Are you worried about me, princess?"

"No," you said, taking one step in his direction.

One more step from each of you and you were chest to chest, facing off like it was a real battle for the very pride of driving. People made a circle around you, staying away from the tension already wafting through the air.

He bent down to your ear. "To settle your worries, it was non-alcoholic champagne. But don't let them know. I keep my alcohol for the big wins."

He really was the biggest asshole on the planet.

The two of you were the first to get off the boat and find your cars, driving them up the top of the hill with some of the crowd from the yacht following right behind. It would be a drive down through traffic and tight corners but it looked much more doable than the roads you've driven through today.

You heard his car purring before he pulled up next to you turning in your seat to gawk at it - a midnight blue R8, a beast of a car compared to yours.

It was an older model, so overpacked with modifications it made your head spin. Nothing on that car looked like it belonged on it and you had a hunch that long hood curving over the engine held a lot more mysteries than the outside body of the car.

He rolled down his window, leaning a hand over it to check yours out too. He scanned it back to front and from the twinge in his lips, he appeared impressed by your weapon of choice. Who wouldn't gape at it when yours was a collection car worth more than three of his yachts together.

"Veilside RX-7. Not bad for a rookie."

He sounded genuinely respectful.

"Thanks."

"I'll give you a five seconds head start," he added.

"I think you could use them a lot more than me," you shot back.

He revved his V8 engine, roaring it to life like a lion looking to claim his rightful throne. You did the same, revving your V6 longer to prepare it for the sprint race. Your engine missed two cylinders and some horsepower but yours had way better grip on the road. Though small compared to his speed intake, you had a shot at winning this.

He was big and wide, a monster under the hood but one that got swallowed on serpentine roads like the one that awaited you. It was a show car. It wasn't made for racing. That and your car was smaller and bunchier, meaning you were able to whizz through corners much faster if needed.

He can't beat me at what I know best.

I was born with the drift in my veins.

And illegal street racing?

Not my first rodeo, pretty boy.

Someone walked to the front stopping between your cars. It was the blonde woman from last night. Shorts that were shorter than your lifespan climbed up her buttocks, joined by a tank top that hugged her boobs better than any of your bras could. A checkered flag hang in her hand, getting rustled by the cool night breeze.

"Not too late to back out," he piped up.

"See you at the finish line. That is if you can keep up," you said, rolling up your window to avoid more of his attitude from seeping inside your car.

You cast a look down to your right at the docks then turned back around to the road.

On second thoughts, Tokyo's skyline looks way better from up here.

The blonde rolled her hand with the flag calling out a count and holding up her fingers. The crowd cheered behind you, already getting gassed by the fumes burning out through the exhausts.

"Three."

It's not about how fast you go.

You revved the engine loud, feeling the car shake with the raw horsepower under the hood.

"Two."

It's about how long you go fast.

Throwing a look at Naozumi, you caught him looking right back at you, that shit-eating grin back on his face.

Fast like lightning.

"GO!"

The flag barely hit the floor when you pressed the gas like a madman. His extra horsepower propelled him a few meters ahead of you. You kept close on his tail, letting him take the tight corners before you so he felt it on his own skin that this wasn't the type of road to get cocky on. Not with a million dollar car like his.

Passing the first two corners, he moved to the middle of the road to cover more ground. He must have realized his car takes way too much space to even drift. And this was a drifting road.

The next corner gave him an opening to shift gears and drift. You went on the outside, trying to overtake him but he was way too wide to get past. You needed a wider corner.

Moving around a rocky hillside, you noticed the road barriers curving down into a wider path, less narrow with more flow.

Naozumi slowed down, reducing his drift angle in the process, rear jerking in a light drift. That's my cue. You pulled the hand brake, pressed down the clutch then quickly stabbed the gas, turning the steering to the left. Accelerating, you flew past him, sliding in front of his car over the middle of the road, slick and smooth like butter on a hot frying pan.

The next turn was just as wide. He accelerated trying to get past you and he almost did if you didn't know him any better. You took the drift faster than him, with the risk of letting the car skid off the road. The tyres screeched loudly at the excess of pressure. Thinking fast, you dropped in the clutch moving down in second gear, finding the sweet spot where the rotations aligned and swerved left into another perfect drift. The roaring growl of the engine was music to your ears.

This is how you drive a car, baby.

A few more turns and you skidded out into intense night traffic. The move from rough to slick asphalt sent your rear wide in the middle of an intersection, passing a red light and being honked at from all sides of the intersection. Naozumi followed right behind you, mere meters away from smashing into your tail lights if you slowed down in the slightest.

You entered a tunnel, whizzing past city cars as fast as you could, overtaking them in fast twisting zig zags. Going back down the hill of the main road, he slid in beside you, pushing the car to its limits to close the gap to you. You didn't let off either, dropping down another gear to rev the engine and push past him.

The docks were just a few blocks away. So close.

Police sirens howled loudly in the distance. One look in the rearview mirror and sure enough the red and blue lights shone bright behind you, heading for you and Naozumi.

Three more police cars pulled up two blocks down, trying to block the street and the two of you from passing through. You shot him a quick look he shared with you, fully aware that this was going to get messy. He threw his head to the blocks on the side, wanting to take the longer route and go around. You laughed at that, turning back ahead.

Go hide, Naozumi. I like to face things head on. You should try it sometimes.

Pressing the gas pedal to increase the speed, you slid in front of him and went through fast. The hands on your speedometer went past 120 kmph. If the officers didn't want to get crushed, they had to pull away. But they didn't. Not that you wanted them to.

You cut the gas, tapped the clutch and steered left really tight, drifting down the lane of the street that was left unguarded. You held on tight to the wheel to stay in control of the car as the force pushed you into the door. Your tyres skidded with a screech at the amount of power, but you drifted into that lane and got the car back around straight, leaving the law enforcement behind you.

Two hundred meters in, you repeated the same maneuver this time to the right and steering wide, diving into another turn down the street, completely losing them. The farther away you got, the less you could hear the sirens. They didn't follow.

One thing about police here: they didn't give a fuck if they didn't stop you on the first try. With the amount of street races around Tokyo at night, they gave up on speeding tickets too. If you can do better than one-eighty they can't catch you. They just liked showing up for some ruckus for people to know they were worth their taxes.

Naozumi slowed down behind you, unable to understand how you got away. He followed your drift on the stretch, miscalculating how wide and low he was as his wheels got up on the sidewalk, scraping his front bumper in the process.

Circling around the last blocks with him in tow, he raced up to you, catching speed until he reached you again.

Now it was finally head to head.

Eight hundred meters stood between his dignity and your career getting knocked off and thrown into the river. None of you backed off, increasing the speed to inhumane limits. Not even the rally cars went this fast. The tyres gripped the asphalt hard, engine thundering under the hood, wheel quivering in your hold the faster you drove.

Five hundred meters.

On your left, his R8 got closer, trying to take away from your ascent. A lower portion going under a bridge came up ahead with a tight corner between the pillars. You veered under it, drifting with his car at the same time. He took the inside pushing you off into the rocky sidewalk as payback for his scratched bumper. Your rear wheel caught onto it, swaying the car off the road. The tremors shook your seat the more you drove over the rocks and you managed to get off it just before you smashed into the pillar, sliding back on the road.

Motherfucker.

You pushed the car even faster to catch up to him. You played fair and square and he was pulling tricks. Fairplay was in the trash at this point when it comes to him. What was worse was that you expected more, but maybe that was a mistake.

Three hundred meters.

The size of a football stadium stood between you and the finish line. The docks were now in view, tall and shabby warehouses littered on the sides of the road. Time for Plan B.

Just because I don't have one between my legs doesn't mean I can't act like a dick too.

You let go of the throttle, slowing down to fall behind him and tailed him, sticking to his end like a leech. He liked to play dirty. At least he could have a taste of his own medicine.

He tried to shake you off, going in chicanes and slowing down in the process. He was growing impatient and it showed because you weren't letting off his tail not in even a little, keeping close to his end. If you had more horsepower you could've kissed his back bumper for shits and giggles.

He tried his hardest to lose you, turns getting Once he steered right really wide, you took the opening and accelerated, speeding through ahead and leaving him behind. You turned to wave at him with a smile as you passed by, bolting through to the end.

You whizzed past the redhead waving the checkered flag, getting the crowd yelling as you drifted around them, lifting some of the dust up in the air as you did some victorious doughnuts. Naozumi pulled up behind you and you circled him a few times before you stopped in front of him.

That dark look in his eyes was full of hatred just a few hours ago. Now, it turned furious with rage, pride absolutely shattered. He took a gamble on your inexperience and he lost the game he started so confident in his own powers.

Everyone rushed to your car to cheer on you. You got out shocked at the crowd pooling in. Akira bolted through the endless mob of people, reaching you and bringing you in a bone-crushing hug you couldn't help but melt in.

"That was batshit crazy! We could see everything from down here."

"I know," your voice came out muffled from being tucked in his shoulder. "I can't believe I did that."

"Well," he pulled apart to hold onto your shoulders, "believe it 'cause you absolutely just did that."

The crowd started chanting your name and you couldn't help the giddiness overtaking your senses. Some of those people were either drivers or really famous and they were calling out your name with excitement.

You might have fallen off the track today but you won the crowd tonight. This was yours to enjoy fully and no one could take it away from you. You earned it. You proved that you belonged on the road.

Naozumi finally cut the engine off. He slumped back in his seat for a moment before he got out to inspect the damage on the front of his car. You walked over to him to see him threading his fingers over the scratched paint stretching over to a dent, covering a good part of the corner in front of the right wheel.

"That looks nasty," you said.

He shot you a look filled with hatred. That graze looked worse than nasty could describe and from how he grinded his teeth in annoyance, it looked like it was entirely your fault in his head.

Not one word was uttered between him getting back in his car and speeding away, leaving his victory celebration for you to enjoy.

I think I scratched his ego too.

Akira slid in beside you, eyes trained on the back of his car, watching it drift away until you could no longer see it.

"Is it wrong that I feel bad for him?"

"Nah, you earned this. He's just complicated." Then he paused, rotating to you. "Frankly, I don't think anyone threw him off his high horse this hard before. Not even me," he said with a grin, happy at Naozumi's demise.

Maybe he was right. Naozumi was a really complicated person. But the more you faced each other on and off track, the more you got to know more about him. And the more your hands inched closer to unravel that puzzle on the shelf with his name on it.

One thing was for sure.

After today's events, that plastic foil on his puzzle box was entirely gone. And one of your dying curiosities was satisfied tonight.

You now knew what made Naozumi tick.

And it wasn't losing.

🏎️Glossary of terms and other useful information 🏎️

The Points - Points in rally get awarded on a top 10 places basis. Depending on the placement at the end of the final stage, the score one gets differs. First place can get as high as 25 points, while tenth place gets only one point. *The last stage is called the Power Stage, giving drivers in top five extra points in the overall standings.

Drivers Championship standings - The overall points gathered over the course of all rounds. If you're familiar with F1, it is the equivalent to the Drivers' World Championship standings.

Downshift - One of Raiko's favourite things. Changing gears from an upper one to an inferior one, where the car revs up before it speeds up. Also the sweet spot where the rotations align and the engine roars.

Next

Thank you for reading! Please leave a note, comment or reblog :)

Taglist: @ellisaworld @howimeetyoukit @jonnelpunk @nadlx33333

[zahri-melitor]

Newish Comics:

Action Comics #1072: I am enjoying following the path of both of these stories, but I'm getting the vibes that I need some things to start happening soon, rather than stacking up more mystery boxes.

Still delighted by Kenan and Kon's antics though. The decision to team them up continues to pay off.

Detective Comics #1090: look, have we seen the premise of Thomas helping characters he probably shouldn't have, as a doctor, and that leading to disaster down the track before? Yes. Am I going to enjoy the parallels again anyway? Also yes. Get Leslie into this plot, Tom Taylor, for some support for Thomas' tendencies.

Nightwing #119: My first thought here is how nice it is to see a run that's picking up smoothly from the last one and where the writer is fully indoctrinated on Dick/Babs flirting from the Dixon days. It's got potential and so far I don't mind the characterisation.

Absolute Wonder Woman #1: I think this is probably going to end up my favourite title from the Absolute line. The art was beautiful and full of character, and I really loved the characterisation of Circe in this, and how she moves from indifferent to a mother. "How you fall in love with a child is by raising it." gaaaaaaah I had those words still ringing in my head last night as I was supervising bathtime and teeth brushing.

Green Arrow #17: and we finally get this book handed off from Joshua Williamson. First half was more tidying up of the Absolute Power mess (without much real resolution, but we all need to move on from that plot), but the new run with Chris Condon looks like it has some promise. I'm happy to go with it for the second.

The Flash #14: Skartaris time! I still need to actually get to the point where I understand what the current timeline of Skartaris is from Flashpoint onwards, because my personal understanding is that Travis should be DEAD DEAD DEAD but yet he's still around. I suspect this is because nobody at DC actually cares about Warlord lore enough to make this a problem, aside from Mike Grell, who at this point is in 'sure, that art proposal sounds fun to draw' life stages.

Anyway, the concept of the Wests all going to Skartaris for some family bonding time is hysterical (by both definitions) and I eagerly await to see how Spurrier handles adapting it for an audience who isn't already used to Skartaris oddities. The fact we have floating Ancient Atlantean buildings in the art is a very promising sign to me, though.

Zatanna: Bring Down The House #5: This was a good conclusion to the story. It's been very much Black Label levels of existing in its own continuity, and I respect how it was put together. I do wonder how much of Tamaki's insistence on how she characterised and centred rabbits in the run is influenced by and in opposition to that classic picture of Giovanni Zatara from The Books of Magic #3 with the dead rabbit.

Batman: The Brave and the Bold #18:

I really liked the art in Doubt. It was quite effective.

The Constantine and Streaky team up remained completely unnecessary but oh well, not written for me.

Reflections was an interesting team up! I wouldn't have put M'gann and Jackson together (actually I just realised this was probably influenced by YJA, carry on), but they do both have interesting placement in their narratives of Xebel v Atlantis and White v Green Martian. Wish the story had leant a bit more into that outsider narrative from the villain to try and convince them.

Why do we have a random Harley Quinn story from nowhere in the continuity? anyway.

Robin Season is uh not particularly good Tim and Damian characterisation (in that the one-upmanship competition doesn't really feel how the two of them compete?) but it's full of interesting background detailing for indications of setting.

The Warlord #73: This week for our second trip to Lost World of Skartaris, we're starting out strong as Travis is still trapped in the bondage tree from last week.

Terrible bondage peril! Over a fire!

Only to be further attacked by flying dinosaurs of some description!

Thanks for the art, Dan Jurgens.

We spend 6 pages of this comic with Travis trying to escape from the tree vines clinging to him, while also fighting the dinosaurs. We have never been more back.

In terms of the plot that doesn't involve tying Travis up in perilous situations, we're still tracking down the plague unicorn. The unicorn dies in a swamp, the gang figure out that Scarheart, our non-Skataran speaking friend from another dimension probably drank magical healing water from a pool which is why he doesn't have Unicorn Plague, and they go off to get some to heal everyone who's sick. Shakira gets better and falls immediately for Scarheart. They decide to hang out with the group of travellers who speak to animals and leave the main story group for a bit.

Also Travis uses up all his bullets, yet again. I must assume he just has a supplier in Skartaris by now who's worked out how to make ammunition.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

For the word of the week: team, friend, Dad and/or Mum

Thank you!

Team (and also Dad) from Through the Desert Repenting

He shook his head. “I can’t just fuck off, the team needs me.” Only they didn’t, really. He might be spending less time on the bench than he had before Richmond, but he wasn’t a regular starter, still had the 51 plastered on his back. Probably get traded keeping on the way he was, dad had taken to saying; Richmond had made him lazy, wanted to be on top somewhere it was easy instead of working for it, was that it?

Friend from Wrong Answers Only

“Yes, sir indeed,” Ted said. “Hey, maybe I should text him. Good food makes everyone feel better.”

He picked up his phone, idly — he hadn’t seen Travis since university and was relatively certain he didn’t have a current number — and did a double-take, blinking down at the screen in surprise like the letters would transmute themselves into a different shape. But nope, there it was plain as day: a message from Jamie Tartt. Short and sweet: can we meet up? Ted had made a point, back when he started coaching, never to delete any of his players’ numbers, no matter the havoc it wreaked on his address book. Had more than a few take him up on it over the years, whether for a friendly drink or a minor emergency, and he’d never regretted making the offer — but if he were a gambling man he wouldn’t’ve put any money on this one, no sir.

Mum/Dad from Through the Desert Repenting

Mummy’d never had much taste for dating shows after all the shit she went through with dad, but he and Keeley had watched three seasons back-to-back not long after they started dating, when one of ‘em had caught the flu off the other and they spent a week in bed all fucking gross and drippy and sweaty. It was one of his favourite memories, just sitting there with her feeling fucking miserable, debating over who’d win between sips of tea.

[thisisnotthenerd]

got a little too bored today and started tallying up d20 cast appearances for the intrepid heroes (and brennan). this is only off of the top of my head so if i forget something don't get on me about it.

Intrepid Heroes D20 Cast Appearances, including sidequests (and BLeeM), ranked from highest to lowest:

Brennan Lee Mulligan with a total of 17/19 seasons that he has appeared in; dm/gming for 14 of those seasons. 7 of those are main cast/intrepid heroes, so assume they each have a baseline of seven.

next up is mister Lou Wilson, with a total of 10 seasons; 3 sidequests, all with guest gms. the man is a combination of dnd knowledge and commit to the bit. great with any season, but has always sidequested with brennan.

tied at nine, we have zac oyama and ally beardsley; ally featured heavily in 2021 sidequests while zac has been more recent in '22 and '23.

tied at eight we have the lovely ladies emily axford and siobhan thompson! i'm so glad siobhan has joined the ranks of intrepid heroes in sidequests, it feels like they just have a lot of fun on the shorter runs.

and in last place, mr brian 'murph' murphy. i know he's busy with naddpod but only intrepid heroes seasons? 7/19? please come on a sidequest my guy. i promise it's fun.

halfway through this process i've decided that guests are also being included now.

Guest Cast D20 Appearances, ranked from highest to lowest:

at the top of the guest list, the effervescent aabria iyengar, with 5/12 sidequest seasons! 2 seasons of gming, 3 seasons as a player, all 3 of which are in established d20 worlds e.g. spyre and calorum. assuming we have an intrepid heroes season coming up at some point in the future, murph can get a bit of a lead, but if aabria's coming on to guest more there's a very real potential that she will outcompete him. i look forward to the day.

next up: erika ishii with 4 seasons. they came on in the first sidequest and have had a steady stream of appearances since. always some kind of mage--tends towards druids/nature magic. 2/3 of her dnd appearances have been druids with an eye for creepy crawlies and the darker side of nature. he's got an aesthetic that he sticks to, and i admire that. real commitment, and not just to the bit.

tied with three we have rekha shankar and matthew mercer. ooh four-syllable names. sorry i got distracted. anyway. very excited to see rekha in desiquest, though she's a fantastic player on d20. big swings, fun character choices, a good balance of support for narrative and spotlight. and then we have matt--one season gming, but for the seasons he's played? some truly cringefail guys who learn to believe in themselves and break out of their personal depression to deliver an asskicking in their finale episode. man likes his themes.

now for the team of two (not the 2 crew) in chronological order of first appearance: mike trapp, ify nwadiwe, lily du, carlos luna, danielle radford, and izzy roland. just enough to make an average d20 table! i'm getting my fill of trapp and danielle in the current season, but seeing a table of these players together? it has potential.

and for the full list of one time appearances on d20 in chronological order of first appearance (only full seasons, not including oneshots atm):

amy vorpahl

justin mcelroy

clint mcelroy

jessica ross

griffin mcelroy

travis mcelroy

marisha ray

krystina arielle

b. dave walters

katie marovitch

sam reich

raphael chestang

grant o'brien

becca scott

persephone valentine

gabe hicks (gm!)

dani fernandez

jasmine bhullar (gm!)

omar najam

oscar montoya

surena marie

anjali bhimani

monét x change

alaska thunderfuck

bob the drag queen

jujubee

alex song-xia

freddie wong

hank green

i've devoted entirely too much thought to this. and i still have more thoughts. too many thoughts and not enough time. can't wait to see who comes on in the future! don't know if i'll edit this or make a new one. probably just edit this.

[themultifandomgal]

Tyler Hoechlin- Our Love

Meeting The Family & Families Meet

2nd July 2011

Since we are on a break from filming Tyler and I decided that now is a good time to meet each other's family. Since we're still in Atlanta Tyler has been invited to my parents house for dinner. I drive us up the driveway, my mom opens the door before I even turn the car off, obviously she's been sat at the window waiting for us. I turn the car off as Tyler sighs

"Nervous?" I ask

"Yeah a little"

"Don't worry. My mom is pretty chill and my dad makes everyone his best friend. We best head in before mom starts knocking on the car doors" I chuckle opening it up and getting out of the care with Tyler following not far behind me

"Hi mom"

"Hi love"

"Mom this is Tyler, Tyler mom"

"Mrs YLN it's lovely to meet you" Tyler shakes moms hand after giving her some flowers

"Oh don't call me that, sounds way to formal. Call me YMN. Come on in dinner will be another 15 minutes. Your dads in the living room"

"Ok" I take Tyler's hand and walk him into the living room where my dad is watching baseball "dad, this is Tyler my boyfriend" dad slowly looks towards us not wanting to miss anything

"Well don't just stand there, sit. You like baseball?"

"Err yeah I used to play actual" Tyler nervously says sitting down

"What team?"

"I played at university, UC Irvine Anteaters. Haven't played for a while

"YN why don't you go get us all a beer"

“Sure dad” I lean down and kiss Tyler on the head before leaving for the kitchen.

Mom and I have to pry dad and Tyler away from the TV. They’re getting on like a house on fire which is amazing, not that I thought they wouldn’t. Tyler tells my parents about himself, we talk to them about Teen Wolf, Comic Con and anything else we think of. Dad and Tyler talk more about baseball.

6th July 2011

It’s now my turn to meet Tyler’s parents and siblings. We had to get a flight from Atlanta to LA. I’m super nervous, not only about meeting Tyler’s parents, but the fact we will be staying over at their house it’s terrifying to me. We’re currently in the Uber on the way to his parents house. Tyler places his hand on my knee which I now realise is jiggling up and down with nerves

“Sorry” I breathe out

“You’ll be fine, promise”

“What if they don’t like me?”

“They will” Tyler then takes my hand in his, lacing our fingers together and gives it a squeeze.

When we arrive we walk up the drive. Tyler gives me one last squeeze before knocking on the door. Holding on to our shared bag. We only have to wait a moment before the door swings open and we are invited in

“YN this is my mom Lori, my dad Don, older brother Travis, older sister Carrie and then the youngest Tanner” I shake hands with everyone

“Hi it’s nice to meet you all”

“It’s nice to finally meet you as well” Lori says smiling

“Yeah. Tyler’s not shut up about you. Feel like I have already met you” Carrie chuckles

“Oh really?” I raised an eyebrow at Tyler who looks sheepish

“Let’s go and get a drink?” Tyler moves me further into the house to the kitchen “what would you like?”

“Just a soda will do”

“So YN do you have any siblings?” Lori asks

“No I’m an only child”

“Must be nice” Tanner shouts from the living room. Tyler rolls his eyes

“Alright thank you” Tyler shouts back handing me a drink

“Thanks”

“How did your parents get on with Tyler”

“I think my dads in love” I joke “they definitely bonded over baseball”

“Your dads a fan?” Don asks

“Most definitely”

“What about you?”

“I enjoy watching it, I’d happily go to a game but my dads on another level”

I don’t know why I was so nervous meeting Tyler’s family. Don cooked us a meal in the evening which was so good! We drank, played a few card games before we all went to bed.

27th July 2011

I wake up the the smell of food cooking. Slowly I get out of bed and head to the kitchen where Tyler is stood at the stove shirtless, because I’m wearing it

“Morning” I sleepily say

“Good morning. Happy birthday baby”

“Thank you” I smile sitting down at the island in my kitchen top

“I have the whole day planed” Tyler places a plate of food in front of me

“Ooo have you?”

“I have. First your going to eat your breakfast, we’re going to take a shower…”

“We’re?” I raise my eyebrows

“Yes we are. Then we’re going to have a romantic walk in the park before we head to dinner, then this evening we’re going for a few drinks with your parents and mine”

“Your parents are coming?” I ask gobsmacked

“They were the ones to ask. Plus they wanted to meet your parents”

“Holy shit this is like serious” I now realise. Mine and Tyler’s relationship is getting to the serious stage, panic sets in, are we moving to fast?

“Hey” I look at Tyler who takes my face in his hands “calm down. I know your overthinking right now”

“Sorry”

When our parents meet they thankfully both get on really well. Everything just feels so real. Like obviously our relationship is real, but now it’s almost solidified. Everyone knows, except our fans, guess we will have to do that soon, but for now we are happy just being in our own little bubble and something about hiding this from the public is kinda exciting.

[shefanispeculator]

Warner Nashville Co-Heads on the Label’s Big Streaming Year & Why Country is Due for a Latin Explosion

In their first joint interview since taking over in June, Ben Kline and Cris Lacy lean into the genre's expanding palette with acts like Bailey Zimmerman and Giovannie & The Hired Guns.

Executive Turntable: Warner Music Nashville Restructures;

07/19/2024

Aictoria (Torie) Mason was elevated to oversee Warner Music Nashville‘s newly rebranded marketing and digital departments, but misplace your reading glasses and you may not spot the change in the WMG veteran’s title. The Nashville-based home of Blake Shelton, Dan + Shay, Ingrid Andress and Randy Travis promoted Mason from senior vp of strategic marketing and analysis to senior vp of marketing and analytics — a subtle tweak but it now means Mason will oversee an expanded marketing division that encompasses artist marketing, digital marketing, analytics, brand partnerships, video strategy and advertising strategy. As part of the changes, the label’s Artist Development team will merge into the wider Marketing department, while the Interactive Marketing team will now be called Digital Marketing. “This new structure will allow us to continue to super-serve our artists and their music with more focus and urgency,” explained WMN co-chair and co-president Ben Kline. Mason joined Warner in late 2011 as director of research and analytics and worked her way up to svp by August 2021.

Elsewhere at WMN, Mary Catherine Rebrovick was promoted from senior director of publicity to vice president of publicity. Rebrovick joined the label in July 2012 as an assistant for then-vp of publicity Tree Paine, who has gone on to work exclusively with someone named Taylor Swift. “Little did either one of us know that 12 years later, I’d be taking that title myself (and she’d be taking the mega title of legendary publicist to the current Queen of Pop),” said Rebrovick on social media, according to Music Row. “Happy full circle anniversary to me.”

Warner Music Nashville Strives To Give Artists More Creative Input – And It’s Paying Off (forbes.com)

Kline and Lacy, both of whom have been at WMN for years, took over as Co-Chairs and Co-Presidents in January. They’re running the label together, excited to build on the accomplishments of artists they’ve worked with in the past and guide them to the next level of their careers, sign new artists, and work to change what many have come to expect from record labels in the past.

[cellard0ors]

Fic: Pin Me (3/?)

"So, don't take this the wrong way, but I saw you last night."

"You mean when we met?" Laura asks into her cell, grinning at the sound of Travis's voice. She honestly wasn't sure if he was actually going to call. He wasn't her normal type, but there has been something about him that had appealed to her.

She supposes it was the hangdog expression he'd worn at the bar. Sure, a lot of older fellas had that face, but his had been particularly... compelling.

Not to mention it had been a long while since she had noticed anyone period. After she and Max ended things, there had been a few one time flings on the road, but for the most part she'd avoided dating.

Now, however, she found she was more open to it. Probably because Travis wasn't her normal type. It was refreshing, in a way, to actually pursue a man as opposed to a boy.

She was surrounded by boys. Boys who played make believe for a living so much so that they didn't seem to understand the difference between fantasy and real life.

For example, a man, a true one, would call. And while she had doubted he would, the fact he has just proves her point and leaves her feeling delighted.

Delighted until he pauses and says softly, shyly (embarrassedly), "Uh, no...I saw you last night on stage? Or-or I guess you'd say the ring?"

"Oh." Laura tries not to wilt but fails spectacularly, because she's sure she knows where this is going.

Upon meeting him and talking to him, Laura quickly concluded he was not a wrestling fan. Men who were, tended to pick her out quickly, even when she wasn't in costume.

Apparently she'd been incorrect and the truth stung. Even more with his next words, "It sure was... something."

Laura grimaces, prepared for an ugly turn to the conversation only for his tone to take on an awed inflection, "I mean it was...spectacular. Seeing you up there, doing those moves. How do you do it?"

The last is asked with the kind of sheer astonishment she's heard people turn towards firefighters or military men. As if what she does out there is a life risking feat.

And it can be, under the right circumstances,but it's never been something she's viewed as worthy of respect. But the way Travis makes it sound as if it is floods her with pleasure, "Oh! Um. I mean, it's... it's not that difficult..."

The sound of disbelief from him makes her giggle and she beams, "Just some simple gymnastics. I was on the team in middle school and high school. I'd planned on going into veterinary training when I graduated, but a friend of mine suggested the wrestling circuit as a way to pick up some cash over the summer between and, I dunno, I kinda liked it."

"Well it shows. You were something else out there."

"Really?"

"Yeah. My brothers are the wrestling fans. I just went along with them as a family thing. Didn't expect to see you out there - doing backflips and all."

Laura shakes her head to herself, "Didn't you tell me you're a sheriff?"

"Yeah, but it's not an enviable job. Most people hate the police - I take it you experience the opposite, being face and all," At her laugh he suddenly adds (with no small amount of insecurity), "... that's what it's called, right? Chris only told me about a lot of this stuff recently, so-?"

"Yes, yes," she manages between her chuckles, "I'm currently playing a face. I was a heel, back when I was Screamin' Siobhan, but once I moved up from the midcard-?"

"...mid-what now?"

Laura is just over the moon. He really doesn't know! And his genuine curiosity is almost novel. Clearly, it's been too long since she's really struck up a relationship with someone outside the circuit.

She explains a bit about her position in the roster and how far she's come. When she gets to how much and where she's traveled she notices a cool silence and sighs, "Yeah, I...I don't get a lot of breaks. This job is like being in the circus in more ways than one. It's a very transient lifestyle."

"Where are you headed next?"

"Detroit."

"Yeah?" He asks and then, tentatively, "I've always wanted to go to Michigan..."

The knot of excitement that forms in her belly is tangible, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Not to mention, I have been putting off my vacation for or, I don't know, six years?"

"Really? You don't say?"

He just hums and she avoids (and fails) wiggling about in her seat in excitement, "Well, if you happen to be that way on Thursday the fourteenth I might have some free time - what with the show being Saturday night and all."

"Sounds like a date." Travis returns and there's a certain tune to his voice that makes her shiver.

Sounds like a date indeed.

[zahri-melitor]

Newish Comics

Batman: The Brave and the Bold #17: oh, we are recanonising Officer Down immediately before going into All Along the Watchtower? That's...a choice. Not necessarily a bad one, but hmmm it very much positions Harvey Bullock (though while recanonising it we've now made the hit go awry, so hmmmmm).

The Leap Day story was fine, it felt like a Batman fill. I don't care for the Constantine team up with Streaky but that's normal for me. Billy seemed sort of young in the diner story, but it was a cute team up (though Basil Karlo, you know there's a perfectly fine team name for Clayfaces, it's the Mud Pack, why were you reaching for 'The Clay Team').

The Man-Bat story made me emotional, especially in that Kirk says he's still very separated from Francine.

Action Comics #1069: These were...fine. I did have to laugh that Rowell's conclusion to 'is it unethical to report on yourself' was 'we're both somewhat unethical and are going to do it anyway'.

The Flash #13: This remains a very good Wally West comic. I did squint at Linda saying she went through labour three times, but I think this is meant in terms of the nonsense surrounding the twins' pregnancy involved her to first miscarry and then give birth to the twins. That or she's counting active labour/delivery for the twins separately.

I'm excited for Skartaris. I presume we're also time travelling somewhat given Travis appeared alive in the dream scene, but also I'm fully aware that nobody actually remembers Travis did actually die and Joshua's now the Warlord. Unless there's further developments beyond that that I haven't sussed out yet.

Green Arrow #16: I love your confidence in Connor, Ollie, but's he's still like...top 10 living fighters, not the 'greatest fighter the world has ever seen'. (I did enjoy the little smirk on Connor's face from his very first panels that was very 'you are underestimating me').

Also still so very bored with this extremely obvious triple cross. I presume we will finally get around to the payoff in Absolute Power #4. (Let Cissie and Sienna go home)

Outsiders #11: This has been an interesting comic. I'm still not sure how much of a difference it would have made to label this 'Planetary'. What I enjoyed was Kate and Luke getting some page time. I'm unconvinced that what we need is an Authority reboot centred around the Bats (I cringed at the "Lucius Fox to be the Doctor! Luke Fox to be the Engineer!" stuff) but I don't hate the idea of an Authority reboot, especially if they give it teeth. If you're doing the Authority can I have Jack Hawksmoor mentoring Cameron Kim instead thanks.

Zatanna: Bring Down the House #4: the art on this title remains super pretty. It's really an interesting rewrite of Zee's history

The Warlord #69: This week in the lost land of Skartaris, everyone is finally heading back to the present from Wizard World.

Of course, it goes wrong.

...

...

bahahahhahahahahaha oh Dan Jurgens you clearly didn't have any decent reference images

The best bit, beyond the incredibly tall buildings in the middle of the water of Circular Quay, or the surprise mountains coming out of the water around Kirribilli, or the fact that Blues Point Tower is apparently 3x taller than it actually is (while still being an eyesore) is that Travis and Shakira have ended up in a future where, to my eye, Fort Denison was never constructed on Pinchgut Island.

This means nothing to anyone not heavily steeped in history of the settlement of Sydney but just trust me that it is very VERY funny in terms of what it means that Travis is just lying there on the rocks.

That's because even in this weird badly photoreferenced Sydney, Shakira, you are currently on what's essentially one of the most desolate rock islands in the centre of the harbour and from that sun it looks like if the fort was actually still there it would be closed for the day.

You might get to see Benny the seal though.

They then proceed to walk on water to get to the city, because even if this WAS on the north shore of the harbour they clearly aren't walking to Chatswood.

Travis finds the city to be incredibly empty and wonders if the Cold War suddenly got hot in his absence. But then! Travis gets jumped by some of Abe Saffron's boys and girls in a deeply amusing conglomeration of 80s fashion and space age dressing. So glad to see recognition of Sydney's underworld in an American comic. (They don't specify they're working for old Abe but you know. I can read into these things)

So they proceed to walk south in Australia heading for Melbourne so they can fly or sail to Antarctica and the hole to enter the centre of the earth. It's racist in places and has a farm that's raising wombats and I cannot take any of it seriously, but I am so amused.

[englishstrawbie]

Imprints (1/3)

Fandom: Station 19

Characters: Maya Bishop, Carina DeLuca, Andy Herrera, Vic Hughes, Jack Gibson, Travis Montgomery, Dean Miller, Ryan Tanner, Pruitt Herrera, Andrew DeLuca, Katherine Bishop, Mason Bishop, Lane Bishop

Summary: What would life have been like if Maya had never taken up running when she was a child? A Bishop family Christmas lunch ends in an argument and, when Maya bumps her head on the icy porch steps, she finds herself in an alternative life where she is about to discover the answer.

* * * * * * * * * *

It is just before midday when they pull up outside Katherine Bishop’s house in Rainier View. She lives in a small, single storey house – a bit of a shack when she first moved in, but with some love and attention, and a lot of help from Maya, Carina and the team at 19, she quickly made it into a home. The front yard is full of plants and shrubs and flowers, which are currently decorated with snow after this morning’s unexpected flurry.

Maya and Carina had watched the snowfall from bed, wishing each other a Merry Christmas in their own way. Maya had been hoping it would just be the two of them today, but her mom had insisted that they enjoy a family Christmas lunch, the first for a long time, and Maya didn’t have the heart to refuse.

It has been just over a year since she helped her mom pack up her belongings and walk out on Lane Bishop for the second and final time. After a couple of months living in their spare room, Katherine had started to rebuild her life again – getting her job back at the doctor’s office and securing a lease on her own place. She has blossomed and is back to being the strong, independent woman she has kept hidden for so many years, and is determined not to let her ex-husband back into her life.

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