#also in this interview he said he looks forward to when he retires so his mom can know peace.... and it hits a little too CLOSE DANIEL. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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#also in this interview he said he looks forward to when he retires so his mom can know peace.... and it hits a little too CLOSE DANIEL.

agendabymooner · 11 months

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she's everything... and he's just mick ! mick s. x ofc (filipino!nanny!ofc)

summary: in the first race of the season, the vettels made their appearance as a family of three (or four) as kimi vettel debuts as the newest vettel of the grid and a mick schumacher fan. OR let me introduce barbara elisandra 'barbie' blanco - the woman that the vettel couple fostered for years who now takes care of the two year old boy alongside kimi's uncle mick.

content warning: smau + article. quality kimi vettel (oc) content, some hater getting ratio'd, lewis is a retired king (yes king get that rest), everyone loving kimi, barbie and mick = barbie and ken, three racing team admins fighting on the comment section, drivers also fighting in the comment section (ate = term of endearment)

note: i told y'all i'm gonna continue on with the kimi vettel/crazy rich wife saga 😭 and to all of the users who made my favourite f1 fics— i see you 👀 i’m here and i’m lurking and i’m enjoying

masterlist

barblanco posted a story !!!

tagged mickschumacher, belongvettel

liked by barblanco, georgerussell63, lewishamilton

mercedesamgf1 to answer your question: YES, we got our new mercedes ambassador not one- but TWO mercedes cars. uncle mackie said to get him one, but uncle toto said make it double✌️

lewishamilton those are some nice whip, kimi! you don't mind if you take them for a spin with roscoe, do you? 🐶🥶 liked by mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1 kimi has a lot of furry friends, but the vettels said there's always room for one more!

user1 as we said: BEST VETTEL IN THE GRID

user2 mickschumacher is slowly transforming kimi vettel into a mini mick schumacher and i am here to sit and admire 🥰

mercedesamgf1 like father, like son 🤗

georgerussell63 still upset he wouldn't let go of mick 🙂 liked by mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1 there's always a next time george!

mickschumacher look at my boy!!! ❤️🤍 liked by mercedesamgf1

belongvettel we started seeing double when he wore that race suit 😅 thank you so much for your warm welcome! kimi definitely loved being around you all and we're looking forward to attend a couple more rounds! 😍 liked by mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1 anything for our newest favourite vettel!!!

tagged belongvettel, scuderiaferrari, mercedesamgf1

liked by barblanco, mickschumacher, landonorris

user1 how many outfit changes did he have to go through this week what 😭😭

user2 i think some photos were taken in different days 🤔

user3 bel's nightmare is seeing him in a race suit and a powered car 😂 makes me wonder how it went for the first few days

user4 i'm looking forward to seeing the vettels' gridwalk interview!!

f1 us too! 🥰

scuderiaferrari his name is KIMI and VETTEL for a reason f1

redbullracing ur so silly 🤪

mercedesamgf1 no you two are 🤣 scuderiaferrari redbullracing

user5 why are these teams fighting in the comment section?

landonorris he'd look nice on a papaya suit tbh

mickschumacher nah uh

georgerussell63 absolutely not.

maxverstappen1 look at him! can't wait to have a rbr sebastian 2.0 in the grid

mickschumacher ❌ wrong try again ❌

carlossainzjr false news max ❌

landonorris you couldn't be any more wrong lad ❌

charles_leclerc i disagree verstappen ❌

alex_albon belongvettel which team do you think kimi would compete for?

belongvettel none of them because seb won't take him racing on such dangerous places 🙂

mickschumacher boooooo that's not mercedes 👎

tagged belongvettel, barblanco, ginaschumacher

liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, estebanocon

ginaschumacher i actually came to see barbie and kimi but maybe mom went to see you? 😺

mickschumacher 😑

estebanocon its getting so obvious mick 😭

user1 what is getting obvious??? estie???

landonorris s-tier simping tbh 🙃

user2 y'all telling me mick is simping for kimi's nanny? 😏

user3 seb's about to act up frfr 😉

belongvettel my two boys!!! liked by mickschumacher

user4 HER TWO BOYS??? MICK REALLY IS A VETTEL 😍

barblanco you did sooooo good getting those points, mick! (i'm only learning about f1 please don't be mad) ❤️👏 liked by mickschumacher

mickschumacher thank you, liebe! i'm sure seb and i will be able to teach you more about it!

user5 no because it really is obvious 😺

user6 reading the fast lane daily article, i agree that she lives up to her name barbie bc she really can do anything 😻 i dont blame u for liking her liked by mickschumacher

user7 "liked by mickschumacher" LMAO OBVIOUS MUCH?! this man is giving "wahpsssshhh" energy fr

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zvaigzdelasas · 8 months

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While most Ukrainians battled against Germany during the war, it’s well known that the western region of the country collaborated with the Third Reich — and that thousands of those involved were allowed to resettle in Canada. [...]

When Anthony Rota, [...] introduced Hunka during Zelenskyy’s Sept. 22 visit, he called him a “veteran from the Second World War who fought for Ukrainian independence against the Russians and continues to support the troops today.”

And Hunka made the argument himself after Russia invaded his homeland last year. “In the last war, I joined the Ukrainian underground to fight Russia, so I was fighting the same people they’re fighting now,” he told a reporter covering a peace vigil in North Bay, Ontario, in March 2022. “Nothing has changed there. The same enemy. First Stalin was there and now this idiot,” he said, referring to Russian President Vladimir Putin. [...]

In a post for the SS Galichina veterans’ blog Combatant News, Hunka wrote that 1941 to 1943 — after Germany invaded Ukraine and before Hunka enlisted — were the happiest years of his life. He also recalled eagerly awaiting “the legendary German knights” to come and attack “the hated Poles,” using a slur for Polish people, in 1939.

Captioned photos from the blog show Hunka during SS artillery training in Munich in December 1943 and in Poland around the time of a visit by Nazi mastermind Heinrich Himmler. “I know that if I ordered you to liquidate the Poles … I would be giving you permission to do what you are eager to do anyway,” Himmler said during that visit, according to several historical accounts. Now, the Polish minister of education is looking into whether Hunka can be extradited and prosecuted for what happened during the war.[...]

[After the war,] Hunka made his living in the aircraft industry, working his way up to inspector at DeHavilland Aircraft in Toronto. After retirement, he visited Ukraine nearly every year, according to a profile of him in a University of Alberta newsletter announcing the donation made in his honor by his sons. The profile said he also served as president of the parish council of St. Volodymyr Ukrainian Catholic Church in Thornhill, Ontario.[...]

In his mea culpa, Rota made it sound like Hunka was a constituent from his district [...] whom he did not know much about. “This initiative was entirely my own,“ Rota said[...]

But Rejean Venne, an independent Canadian journalist, wrote in his Substack newsletter this week that Rota and Hunka family members have had numerous chances to cross paths over the years. Among Venne’s examples:

- One of Hunka’s sons, Martin, was chief financial officer of Redpath Mining, a multinational corporation headquartered in Rota’s district. Redpath has contributed to Rota’s campaigns and Rota has provided government funding for recreational facilities operated by Redpath. (The company did not respond to inquiries from the Forward made Thursday.)

- Martin Hunka has also served as chair of the board of trustees for North Bay Hospital, which is located in Rota’s district and which Rota has supported. Hunka’s name can no longer be found on the hospital’s website and social media posts. (The hospital did not respond to a request for comment emailed Thursday.)

- North Bay Pride, an LGBTQ+ organization, gave an award to Rota nine months after Yaroslav’s granddaughter Leshya Lecappelain joined its board of directors. In 2022 and 2023, North Bay Pride received more than $100,000 in funding from Rota. (Asked about this, a spokesperson for North Bay Pride said Lecappelain had not been on its board for several years.)

“Rota’s response that this was a last-minute request doesn’t add up,” Venne said in an email interview. “The Hunka family appears well connected in Rota’s district.”

The Forward could not determine whether Hunka and Rota met before he was honored at Parliament. Rota and others at the House of Commons did not respond to several requests for comment sent Wednesday and Thursday. Efforts to reach Yaroslav, Martin and Peter Hunka, Lecappelain and other members of the family for comment were also unsuccessful.[...]

On Wednesday, the University of Alberta said it would return the CA$30,000 endowment that Hunka’s sons donated in 2019 in their father’s honor. The money was intended to fund research at the school’s Canadian Institute for Ukrainian Studies. But Per Anders Rudling, a university alumnus and expert on Ukrainian nationalism who teaches at Sweden’s Lund University, said the Hunka fund is just “the top of an iceberg.” In an email to the Forward, Rudling said the University of Alberta has “much larger endowments” honoring other figures connected to the Waffen SS unit. The “most problematic,” he said, is the Volodymyr and Daria Kubijovych Memorial Endowment Fund [Editors note: archive link - also "matched two-to-one by the Government of Alberta"] At CA$450,000 — about $334,000 — it’s 15 times larger than the Hunka fund the university is returning.[...] In a Facebook post Thursday, Rudling also questioned university endowments named for other Galichina Division veterans, including Roman Kolisnyk, Levko Babij and Edward Brodacky. Pointing to research he published in The Journal of Slavic Military Studies [Editors note: 1, 2], Rudling said, “I have tried to raise this issue in the past, to no avail.”

Asked about Rudling’s concerns, Michael Brown, a spokesperson for the University of Alberta, reiterated a statement in which interim provost Verna Yiu said the school is “reviewing its general naming policies and procedures, including those for endowments, to ensure alignment with our values.” Yiu also expressed the school’s “commitment to address anti-Semitism in any of its manifestations, including the ways in which the Holocaust continues to resonate in the present.” The honors given to SS Galichina fighters extend beyond academia. One of the University of Alberta’s endowments is for its former chancellor Peter Savaryn, another SS Galichina member. In 1987, Savaryn was awarded the Order of Canada, among the nation’s highest honors, bestowed by Canada’s governor general, the representative of the British Crown. Mary Simon, the current governor general, has condemned the Hunka scandal as “a shock and an embarrassment.”[...]

When the Hunka endowment was announced in 2020, the university said it would fund research on two “leaders of the underground Ukrainian Catholic Church,” Cardinal Josyf Slipyj and Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytsky. (A metropolitan is akin to a bishop.) Slipyi was a deputy in Ukraine’s 1941 self-proclaimed government, which pledged to work closely with Germany under Hitler’s leadership. Slipyi also assigned chaplains to SS Galichina and celebrated the unit’s inaugural Mass. After the war, the Soviets sent him to gulag prison camps. But Sheptytsky’s legacy is layered [sic]. He helped “dozens of Jews find refuge in his monasteries and even in his own home,” according to Yad Vashem, while also supporting “the German army as the savior of the Ukrainians from the Soviets.”

Harvard University also houses a Ukrainian Research Institute. Asked, after Alberta’s announcement, whether that institute’s funding would be scrutinized for Nazi ties, the university said in a statement that the institute had never received money from the Hunkas, nor had it received donations designated for research related to SS Galichina. Harvard did, however, in 1974 establish a fellowship and faculty position in European studies with money from a foundation named for Alfred Krupp, who was convicted of war crimes for using slave laborers from Auschwitz to build and work in a factory.[...]

In Canada, questions about the Ukrainian immigrants’ past dogged them for decades, and in 1985, the country launched a Commission of Inquiry on War Criminals, known as the Deschênes Commission. Investigators were mostly limited to considering evidence gathered in Canada, and ultimately they came to the controversial conclusion that the Galichina Division “should not be indicted as a group” and that “mere membership” in the division was insufficient to justify prosecution or revoke citizenship.

This week, as Trudeau apologized for the Hunka salute, B’nai Brith Canada called for the full release of the commission’s report, which had been heavily redacted, along with other Holocaust-era records, in order to “restore public trust in our institutions.” “Canadians deserve to know the full extent to which Nazi war criminals were permitted to settle in this country after the war,” the group said Tuesday[...]

Why would Hunka’s family risk his humiliation, at age 98, by putting him under a spotlight? Did they not realize how his military record would be perceived and portrayed? “It’s arrogance. It’s not naiveté,” said Jack Porter, a research associate at Harvard’s Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies and himself a Jewish child survivor of the Holocaust, born in Ukraine. “They know what their father did,” he said. “It’s hubris, it’s chutzpah. They rationalize that these men were fighting communism. If a few Jews were killed, they also were communists.”[...]

More than 2.5 million Ukrainians died fighting against Germany. “There were many good Ukrainians; they should not all be stigmatized,” he said.

But he said veterans who fought under the Nazis like Hunka and his compatriots have been emboldened by the whitewashing of their history, especially since Russia’s invasion of Ukraine last year. “They’ve been hiding in plain sight,” he said. “They’ve been there for 60 years and nobody has touched them, so of course they feel OK.”

29 Sep 23

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mirai-e-jump · 9 months

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Hero Vision Vol.55 (2015/Winter) Kamen Rider Blade 10th Anniversary Reunion Interviews Discussion on the Blade Drama CD (translations below)

Publication: February 23, 2015

Takayuki Tsubaki (Kazuma Kenzaki/Blade) Ryoji Morimoto (Hajime Aikawa/Chalice) Hironari Amano (Sakuya Tachibana/Garren) Takahiro Hojo (Mutsuki Kamijo/Leangle)

Tsubaki: I know that since Kamen Rider Blade is celebrating its 10th anniversary, the fans have been asking if we could do something for them. It reminded me that this show is still loved by so many people.

Amano: We talked about how it'd be nice if we could do something together. Kindof like how "Ninpu Sentai Hurricaneger" celebrated its 10th anniversary, and released a new project.

Tsubaki: Yeah. Then, we were offered to do a Drama CD. It made me really happy. This is the first of its kind in Kamen Rider history, and I think the only reason such an offer was given, was because the fans, Toei, the sponsors, the staff, and the cast all came together to make it happen.

Amano: For me, at first, I honestly wondered how a 10 year old production would be revived, and whether anyone would buy it.

Morimoto: Yeah. For me, my first impression was that this was a new beginning. Honestly, I was happy, but I was also worried about whether I'd be able to portray the role I played 10 years ago in a convincing way.

Hojo: I felt the same way. However, when I first heard about it, I was more happy than worried. Blade was the work I was most attached to, and had the most vivid memories of during my acting career. Now, in a brand new drama written 10 years later, I was really looking forward to it.

Amano: But, I also thought it was a story that I couldn't accept if all four of us weren't here.

Morimoto: That's the minimum requirement. After all, "Blade" is only possible if we're all together.

Amano: That's why I thought the most important thing was whether Joe (Hojo-san's nickname), who had retired from acting and returned to his hometown Nagoya, would be able to appear in this work. If they said, "He's retired, so just drop it," then there's nothing we can do about it. But, when Joe said he was sure and wanted to continue to be involved with the Kamen Rider series, it was then that I realized for the first time that this story would actually be happening.

Tsubaki: In Joe's case, locating him was quick, but contacting him to finalize the deal was the hard part.

Hojo: Just as we were talking about it, my cell phone died......(laughs)

Tsubaki: It was the first time I saw him in awhile, but he suddenly brought me a box with his new smartphone in it and said, "Baki (Tsubaki-kun's nickname), set it up for me."

Amano: You're better off with a flip phone! (laughs). I sent you an e-mail the other day, but when I asked, "Why didn't you reply?," you said your screen had broke.

Tsubaki: Those kinds of things usually makes me nervous, but it's different when we're working on Blade. The other day, I asked him, "What would you do if you were offered an acting role for something other than Kamen Rider?" He said, "I won't do it. But, if it's Kamen Rider, I'll definitely do it." I'm so happy that Joe still feels that way even after 10 years.

-10 years later, the four of us are just as you imagined-

Morimoto: I was happy to see that the Drama CD was a continuation of the story up to episode 49, which we had performed over the course of a year, all while creating a new story.

Amano: I was happy to see the presence of Kenzaki (Kazuma), how Hajime (Aikawa) had grown as a human, and how Mutsuki (Kamijo) had become an adult.

Morimoto: And also, Tachibana-san is more like a gentleman.

Tsubaki: I think Kenzaki was as I expected. I was told by Director Ishida (Hidenori) in the film "Missing Ace," which takes place 4 years after the show, that, "Kenzaki will not change even after 4 years." I thought that even 10 years later, Kenzaki would still be the same.

Morimoto: It was the exact image I had in mind, or rather, what I wanted him to be like.

Amano: On the flip side, the most unexpected thing was the conversations between Tachibana and Hajime. After 10 years, It seems that Tachibana was now able to talk with Hajime.

Morimoto: That's for sure. At the time, Garren (who Tachibana transforms into) and Chalice (who Hajime transforms into) were enemies.

Amano: Now, Ryo-chan (Morimoto-san) and I are having deep conversations.

Morimoto: Just like me and Amano-kun, I was happy to see that after 10 years, Hajime and Tachibana had developed a strong relationship. That's why I felt that the scene had to be a condensed version of their 10 years together.

Hojo: There's a line from Mutsuki in the TV show, where he says, "I want to protect the smiles and tears of people."……Going along with that, Mutsuki's choice of an event company as a place of employment in order to make people smile had me thinking, "That makes sense." It also makes him happy having junior colleagues. In his mind, Mutsuki's senior is Tachibana-san, but it's not enough to just imitate him. Therefore, I think I was able to play the role of a senior in my own way, although not as strict as Tachibana-san.

Amano: By the way, how are Mutsuki and Nozomi-chan getting along 10 years later? In the Drama CD, it's only brought up alittle bit.

Morimoto: What's more, "Mutsuki," you slurred your words! (laughs)

Amano: I'm very curious. How about in Joe's mind? Do you go for it? Or…..

Hojo: Nozomi……I wonder if we're done.

Amano & Morimoto: What!!? You guys broke up?!

Tsubaki: Nozomi-chan...maybe she married someone else? (laughs) No, no, I'm just joking. What I left out just now, was foreshadowing for the next part.

Morimoto: You left it in!

Tsubaki: I'm sure that in the next part, Nozomi-chan will be in trouble, so Mutsuki, trying to save her, will finally transform into his Jack Form.

Amano: I don't think they (the scriptwriters) put that much though into it!!

-Because we understand each other's roles-

Morimoto: Hajime isn't the type to show his emotions, but during the recording, I was so emotional, that I actually started to cry.

Amano: It was the final scene. When we finished, I said, "This isn't it," and re-recorded it.

Morimoto: Yeah. If Hajime honestly expresses his feelings and becomes 100% human, that's where the story will end. But, after seeing Kenzaki for the first time in such a long time, the thought of never seeing him again made me so emotional. I though, "Hajime should act like this too," but then I realized, "maybe I'm being alittle too feminine." When I asked everyone about it, both Amano-kun and Hojo gave the advice of, "Definitely don't cry." The reason we can share our opinions like that is because we all understand our roles.

Amano: That's right. It's the same for me, I remember other people's roles more than my own.

Morimoto: In a way, it's like looking at it from the Director's point of view. A scene where I tell Amano-kun, "These are the only friends I can trust!," seems strange.

Amano: Now that you mention it, you were very quiet about it at first. But, that scene was also in the TV show, so when I asked Ryo-chan, "What were you doing before?," Ryo-chan remembered it well.

Morimoto: You said I was quite loud at that time

Amano: That's why we re-recorded it. Everyone remembers what Hajime was like, what Mutsuki was like, and what Kenzaki was like.

Tsubaki: When it comes to "that kind of thing" Kenzaki can only speak the "Ondul Language" right? (laughs).

(Everyone laughs)

Morimoto: For better or for worse, the image I have of Kenzaki has never changed. It was the same in the Drama CD. I remembered almost immediately that, "Kenzaki is just like this."

Tsubaki: "Like this," in a good way? (laughs).

Morimoto: Ofcourse. On the other hand, it would be strange if Kenzaki could speak as fluently as (Kenichi) Suzumura-san (laughs).

Tsubaki: Come to think of it, during the dub recording for "Super Hero Taisen," the staff members said, "We have high expectations" So when I asked them, "Which are you expecting?," they said, "Whichever!" Well, from the very beginning, I started chewing as I spoke, and they all started clapping……

Morimoto: You also chewed in the Drama CD (laughs).

Tsubaki: Yeah, I chewed on the first take. Then, a nerve struck in Amano-kun, and he said, "I can't take this anymore…."

Morimoto: Then he left (the recording room).

Hojo: When he came back, he kept laughing like this (he holds his hands over his mouth) (laughs).

Morimoto: It was insanity. I also laughed at the beginning exchange with Kenzaki. In the flashback scene of the main story, he says, "Hajime, you can continue to live among other humans!"

Tsubaki: It came out more, "You can continue to live among other humans….."* (laughs). It's because that scene once traumatized me. *(said slightly slurred towards the end)

Morimoto: Were you actually hurt or something?

Tsubaki: I don't know if it's because people think that my lines with Ondul elements are the correct ones. I was wondering which expectation I should meet, but in the end, I ended up going with Ondul.....

Amano: I was entertained by it though.

Hojo: Another new saying will be born (laughs).

Morimoto: That part of him is what Kenzaki's all about.

Tsubaki: Just so you know, I usually speak very normally. But Kenzaki, he's just different! (laughs)

-We're now eagerly awaiting to visualize it!-

Tsubaki: Thankfully, I heard that the number of pre-orders for the Drama CD exceeded expectations, and Blade, which was broadcast on "Nico Nico Douga" late last year, was also quite popular. So, if we can get a little more support from the fans, I think a video version may be possible.

Amano: I'm glad that we were able to do a Drama CD, and that we were able to appear in Super Hero Taisen with all four of us, but, we mainly did dubbing. Next time I want everyone to appear in a film. By the way, I've confirmed that all four suits of Blade, Chalice, Garren, and Leangle still exist (laughs).

(Everyone laughs)

Tsubaki: Leangle's Jack Form figure is also available!

Amano: No way! I never thought it would actually release….!

Hojo: Come to think of it, at the time of Missing Ace, Baki and Amano-kun lied to me by saying, "I heard Leangle gets his Jack Form……" (laughs)

Amano: Now that it's become a figure, the visualization will also become a reality! So, first of all, we need everyone to support the Drama CD and push for this visualization. It'll be difficult to do something like this in another 5 or 10 years!

Hojo: Kenzaki and Hajime will grow old (laughs).

Morimoto: I'll become a wrinkly Undead! (laughs)

Amano: The Undead don't age, which means we'd have to change the original setting……

Tsubaki: Then it should be within this year. The filming period will be from April to May, and the release will be around August.

Morimoto: That's way too specific! (laughs). If that's the case, we'll have to get a new cards made…..(laughs).

Tsubaki: Talking like this, there's no end to our desires. I still want to make it into a video!

Hojo: When that time comes, I'll come back from Nagoya!

Amano: That's good. I think an adaptation would be fine if Joe actually answered his phone (laughs).

Morimoto: I won't break my cell phone or say that the screen died (laughs). That much is important. But, this year is the anniversary of Blade……so I'd be happy if we could end this year on a good note.

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harley-sunday · 1 year

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Feels Like Home [Epilogue]

Summary: When an unexpected three-week break between Monza and Singapore finds Daniel back on his farm in Perth he’s desperate to use this time to clear his mind, figure out his future in Formula One, and find his way back. He didn’t expect a new neighbour, a sassy two-year old, and three alpacas would make him realise that sometimes, what you’re looking for is right in front of you.

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: None. Weird.

Word count: 3k

AN: Sorry for the long wait, bb’s. Life got in the way and- Ugh. Anyway. Here we are, the last part of this story. I hope you liked reading it all as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please leave a comment if you did :) ♥

Masterlist

"Danny, banana. Danny, bana-"

"Mate-" Daniel locks eyes with his best friend through the rear view mirror and shakes his head.

From the driver's seat Blake shrugs and grins, "What? Shi-" He catches himself just in time, no doubt also because of a whispered, "Blake!" coming from next to Daniel, and corrects himself quick enough for it not to reach a certain three-year-old's ears. "It's a catchy song, mate." Blake looks over his shoulder then, wiggling his eyebrows, "Right, El?"

Ellie nods in response, dancing in her car seat as she continues where Blake left off, "-na. Danny, banana. Danny, banana."

There's a stifled laugh coming from his left, followed by a hand on his knee, "Regretting bringing us along for the weekend yet?"

He takes her hand in his, intertwining their fingers effortlessly, before he brings them up to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of her hand, "Never."

They're on their way to the track, Blake driving the Ford pickup Red Bull arranged for them this weekend, Mia, one of the Red Bull PR girls, in the front seat and Daniel, her, and Ellie crammed in the backseat together. It's Friday, free practice day, and so there's no rush, not much on his schedule except a sit-down interview with Sky Sports later today, once the two practice sessions are over.

Next to him Ellie keeps singing her song and when he looks at her she smiles up at him with her toothy grin, holding out her hand to him. He takes it and presses a kiss to the back of her hand the same way he did to her mum's a few moments ago, "You excited, bub?"

"Yep," Ellie says confidently even though Daniel's sure she has no idea what's about to happen. She leans forward and looks around him, at her mum, "Happy days."

On his other side she laughs and shakes her head, muttering a quiet, "Tell me your kid is hanging out with your boyfriend too much without telling me your kid is hanging out with your boyfriend too much."

Daniel doesn't say anything but an exciting mix of happiness and pride and love spreading inside his chest, pushing out the nerves that have been there all morning. Because it's one thing to be going to his home Grand Prix, but it's another thing to do so with her and Ellie by his side.

It feels like only yesterday when he was in Abu Dhabi, confirming after weeks of speculation that yes, he would be returning to his former team, but at the same time so much has happened in the time he’s been home that it’s hard to believe it’s only been four months.

The farm- their farm now, ever since he asked her and Ellie to move in with him at the end of January- has seemed to come alive and feels more like a home than it ever did before. They moved the girls from Oscar’s farm to theirs early March because it would be a lot easier for them to look after six alpacas than it would be for her Granddad, who now only has Homer to worry about and can finally enjoy his retirement.

Last week they spent some time with Blake, trying to figure out whether or not they should launch their relationship ahead of the Grand Prix but in the end she made the decision for them when, after another hour or so of discussing the pros and cons, she looked at him and Blake and simply said, "Why don't we just see what happens? It can't be that bad, right?”

Blake, bless him, wasted no time and started rattling of a list of reasons why it would be bad, why they needed a plan, why-

"I get that part," she said, reaching over the kitchen table and putting her hand on Blake's arm, "and I think it's good that we have something to fall back on once the news breaks, but- I just don't like the idea of an official statement, or orchestrating a 'candid'-" she air-quoted the word, "-moment with the press. I much rather just have it happen naturally, if that makes sense."

Daniel remembers nodding in agreement, "She has a point, mate.”

Blake had leaned back in his chair, pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose but then he dropped his shoulders and let out a resigned sigh and Daniel knew they had won Blake over, "Fine. I'll call Christian and Vicky and hear what they think.

Daniel told Christian about her, last November, in the few quiet hours before they announced his return to Red Bull. Christian hadn't said anything at first, just looked at Daniel the way he so often looked at Max, a softness there that Daniel hadn't quite known how to take until Christian clasped his shoulder and told him, his voice thick and laced with pride, "I'm really happy for you, Daniel. You- You more than anyone deserve this."

And so he wasn’t surprised when Christian gave them the go-ahead.

They’re almost at the track now and when Daniel clears his throat, the nerves from earlier back in full force, he feels her squeeze his hand, like she knows exactly what he's feeling right now. He guesses that in a way she is.

***

From the moment you arrive at the track it's hectic, Daniel and Blake leaving the car first in an attempt to give you and Ellie some respite from hundreds of the waiting fans. Mia stays with you, so she can escort you, in what everyone hopes will be relative peace, to the paddock once Max arrives in about five minutes.

It's a carefully planned setup by Vicky who, more than anything else, was concerned about you and Ellie and promised she would try to make it as enjoyable as possible. Even if that meant you had to wait in the car for a few minutes so Max could act as a decoy.

Looking out of the window and seeing just how crazy people get when they see Daniel, you're glad you agreed.

You're not sure if Vicky had anything to do with it but both Max and Sergio arrive at the track at the same time and with the fans' attention turned solely to the two Red Bull drivers, you make it to the team's garage without too much trouble. Mia not wearing any team gear but instead being undercover in her plain clothes definitely helped, you tell her with a wink once you're safely inside.

"I felt like I was on a secret mission," the young girl beams back at you. She nods then, "You guys have fun today."

"Thank you, Mia," you tell her with a warm smile that grows even wider when you see Daniel coming towards you.

"Hey you," he says, standing in front of you with his back towards the pitlane, effectively blocking you and Ellie from prying eyes. "All good?"

"All good," you confirm easily enough.

He holds something out to Ellie then, looking extremely pleased with himself, "Here you go, bub. You have to put these on when the cars start to make loud noises, ok?"

Ellie takes the headphones from him, looking at Daniel with wide eyes.

"Oh wow, Ellie," you say as you pinch her cheek with your free hand. "Danny got you pink headphones, huh? How cool!"

"Thank you, Danny," Ellie says, leaning forward in your arms so she can press a kiss to Daniel's cheek.

Daniel smiles widely at Ellie before he grabs something off the counter next to you, "I got you a pair as well."

"Momma, look!" Ellie holds up hers, "The same!"

You smile, "Yeah, we're matching, bub. How very awesome."

"So free practice starts in an hour or so, do you want to grab something to eat first?" Daniel's rocking back and forth on his feet and you can tell he's getting a little nervous again. It’s the only downside of not having an official moment scheduled, you’ve come to realise, because it’s completely out of your hands and it’s just one big waiting game until someone spots you together and runs with it.

You try to give Daniel your best reassuring smile, "Sounds great." Taking Ellie's headphones from her, you put them, and yours, in the large tote bag that's hanging from your shoulder before you move Ellie to your other hip, "Lead the way, Ricciardo."

Daniel nods towards the back of the garage and when you turn around he puts his hand on the small of your back, guiding you through a maze of corridors that lead back to the paddock and the Red Bull hospitality.

Before you've crossed over though, Ellie starts wriggling in your arms and it isn't until you see a familiar face coming your way that you understand why. Ellie tries to push herself free and so, once he's close enough, you set her down and watch as she wobbles over to, "Uncle Mikey!"

Michael's entire face lights up and he squats down just in time to catch her, picking her up and laughing when she presses a wet kiss to his cheek, "Hello Miss Ellie. How you going?"

"Uncle Mikey," Ellie repeats, a little quieter this time, letting her head rest against his shoulder with a content sigh.

Michael nods to the driver who's standing next to him, "Go on, mate. I'll catch up with you in a bit, yeah?"

Yuki nods and gives Ellie a quick wave, "Bye."

A few heads have turned your way but then you greet Michael with a warm hug, Daniel keeping his distance, and it seems people lose interest rather quickly, probably thinking you're here for the Alpha Tauri trainer instead of Red Bull's reserve driver. Ellie, bless her, helps by babbling incessantly about whatever she deems interesting enough, as if she hasn't just seen him last Sunday when he was over for dinner with Nathalie and Blake.

Michael listens intently but nods towards Red Bull's hospitality and so you follow him to where he stops in front of the sliding doors, thankful for the escort. When there's a lull in Ellie's stories, Michael takes it as his cue to hand her back to you, but not before promising he'll catch up with you later this weekend.

Daniel reappears then, and together you head inside. The room is full of Red Bull employees enjoying their lunch but none of them seem to pay you any mind and it's then you remember a brief was sent out by the team earlier this week, where it was mentioned you and Ellie would be joining Daniel this weekend, effectively introducing you to the crew.

There is someone waving at you from the other side of the room and so Daniel gently pushes you forward to where Blake is sitting. Without hesitating Blake pushes his chair back so he can take Ellie from you, bouncing her on his knee as you hang your bag on the back of a chair and sit down. Ellie's giggles quickly fill the room and you can't help but smile by how at ease she is.

"Well, hello,"

You look up and see Christian joining your table, giving Daniel a hug before he turns to you. Standing up you're ready to shake his hand but find yourself being pulled into a hug instead.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Christian says when he lets go of you, one hand still on your arm. He nods to Daniel then, a mischievous grin on his lips, "This one wouldn't shut up about you."

You let out a laugh at the way Daniel's cheeks redden and smile at Christian, "Surprisingly enough we talked a lot about you on our first date, so I guess that makes two of us."

Christian chuckles and nods at Daniel, "I can see why you like her so much." He turns to Blake and Ellie then, "And who is this lovely lady?"

"Bit weird of you to call Blake that," Daniel pipes up with a grin, "but I'm sure he doesn't mind the compliment."

You shake your head at Daniel, trying to not laugh at the way Blake gives him one of his better scowls, and pick up Ellie, "This is my daughter Ellie."

"Hello Ellie," Christian says, giving her knee a gentle squeeze. "Don't you look just like your mum."

Ellie studies Christian for a second, her little eyebrows knitted together as she tries to decide whether she likes him or not, but then she grins widely, "Danny go racing."

"Not this weekend, bub," Daniel explains from next to Christian. "Some other time maybe."

Christian leans closer to Ellie then and whispers, loud enough for you and Daniel to hear, "Definitely some other time, sweetheart."

***

She and Ellie watch both the first practice session from inside Max’s side of the garage, while Daniel is on the pit wall, trying to concentrate but catching himself looking over his shoulder every couple of minutes to see if they’re still ok. He spots Brad, Max’s trainer, chatting to Ellie animatedly towards the end of the session and feels a little more at ease, once again reminded how fiercely loyal and protective everyone in the Red Bull family is.

Once free practice is over he starts to head back inside where he finds Ellie admiring the lion on top of the helmet Max is showing her.

“It is of course not like a real lion, Ellie,” Max tells her as he traces the lines with his finger, “but it looks like one don’t you think?”

“Danny, look!” Ellie says when she spots him and points to Max’s helmet, “It’s a lion.”

“It’s sure is, bub,” Daniel agrees with a smile, picking up Ellie then when she holds out her arms to him. When she rests her head against his shoulder he hugs her closer, still amazed by how much it means that she trusts him so much.

Max looks at him a little strange and Daniel half expects him to crack a joke but instead he claps Daniel’s back and gives him a kind smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yep.”

Daniel watches as she says her goodbyes to Max, not surprised when his teammate returns the hugs she gives him without hesitating. When she turns back to Daniel she smiles, “I like him.”

“Good.” Daniel chuckles, “I like him too most of the time.” Ellie lets out a yawn then and Daniel presses a kiss to the top of her head, “You tired, bub?”

Ellie shakes her head but another yawn betrays her.

She runs her hand through her daughter’s hair and smiles, “It’s a long day, huh bub?”

Daniel smiles apologetically, “I can have someone take you back to the hotel if you want?”

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she says. She nods towards Ellie then, “She’d never forgive me if we left early but-” she looks around, “-if we could find somewhere quiet, maybe?”

“Say no more,” Daniel says and uses his free hand to guide her to the back of the garage and into the maze of corridors that ultimately leads them to a conference room that he hopes still has a comfortable couch in it like it used to do when he first was with the team. It does.

“Perfect,” she tells him with a smile as she sits down at an angle, one leg folded in front of her. She leans in and takes Ellie’s shoes off, the little girl already fast asleep in Daniel’s lap. She looks up at him then, “You sure you don’t have anywhere else to be?”

“Nah.” Daniel shakes his head and leans in to give her a kiss, “There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now.”

***

“Daniel, after four years you’re back to where it all started for you, back at Red Bull,” Nathalie looks up at him and smiles. “Are you happy to be back?”

“I am,” Daniel agrees easily enough, leaning back in his chair. You can tell he’s at ease, no nervous tapping of his foot or biting the skin around his nails, and you know it’s because he and Nathalie are good friends and he knows he won’t push anything. You watch as he nods to where the Red Bull garage is, “It feels good, you know? They’re family.”

Nathalie nods, “Christian told us you’ll probably be at eight races this year, Melbourne being the first, are you ok with being around the paddock but not being able to drive? Do you miss it?”

“Of course I miss it but-” Daniel sits up a little, as if he wants to get his point across, “-I know I still need some time. These past few months- Without the pressure of having to prepare for a season, you know, it’s- It’s been good. I’m in a much better headspace now and I think if we can keep this up for the next couple of months-” He shrugs, “Who knows what might happen.”

“Would you say you’re happier now than you were at Renault and McLaren? Even though you’re not driving-”

“Oh definitely,” Daniel answers without hesitating. “It feels like this is exactly where I’m meant to be.”

Nathalie smiles, “You seem more relaxed than when we last spoke in Abu Dhabi last year- Would you say the longer winter break helped with that?”

“Amongst other things,” Daniel says with a grin, making Nathalie shake her head.

“I heard something about you being an alpaca farmer now,” Nathalie teases, as if she didn’t come by after Jeddah for a two-day visit where she spent most of her time cuddling the girls. And Ellie.

“You heard correct,” Daniel shoots back, smiling widely.

“You are a man of many talents, Daniel,” Nathalie says as she throws him a wink. “Amazing.” She clears her throat then, “So is it safe to say you’re in a good place right now? That you’re happy?”

Daniel nods, “Yep.”

“Why?”

Daniel looks past Nathalie at you and Ellie, locking eyes with you as he smiles and says, “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah.” Daniel looks back at Nathalie, “I’m home.”

#Daniel Ricciardo #F1 Fanfic #Daniel Ricciardo x reader #DR3 #F1 Imagine #Harley Sunday x Daniel Ricciardo #Feels Like Home

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stereax · 1 month

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hello!! for the drafts thing: “bless your waters, bless your doubts” what did you set out to do with this? what changed that caused you to put it on hold? what are the themes that jump out at you, what story were you trying to tell? also, is the title a reference to something? i love to hear about the creative process!! :3

- puckpocketed on main

Yes!!! Oh my god, this was such a fun project that I began undertaking. Just couldn't keep going on it. More under the cut.

So yes! The title is a reference to the Devils' goal song. Here it is, if you haven't heard it (or if you haven't heard it in its entirety) before.

youtube

Okay third time's the charm my posts are being chewed upon by tumblr please dear lord let me post this this time please please PLEASE

[inhales] Okay! So the initial premise of this fic is incredibly simple. Dougie Hamilton, one of the Devils' better defensemen, has a running joke going where the Devils claim he's the admin of our social media. Hamilton slapshot goals are posted with a caption of "I scored!", Dougie's been roped into the act a few times, the like. So obviously this means someone's gotta write a Dougie Hamilton social media admin AU. I'm surprised nobody has yet. Devilsblr, get on it.

Anyway. I think the indents are messing up my post so let's try to post step by step. Instead of indenting snippets, I'll italicize them.

"What?"

Of all the things Dougie Hamilton had expected to hear when being pulled aside by the media team before the first game of the season, this was not it. The hockey player reclines in his seat, rubbing at one of his eyes. "You want me to do what?" he repeats.

Across from him sits Christopher Wescott, leader of the social media team if memory serves Dougie right. A quick glance down at Wescott's placard on his desk, prominently placed, confirms it. Director, Content Strategy & Social Media. Then again, Wescott usually wasn't seen filming anything, or talking to the players even, unless it was roping a certain Jack Hughes in front of a camera to try to get him to sell the youth foundation. That took all hands on deck. They even got the players involved in that one.

Gravy celebrated that hundred-dollar bonus for capturing Jack harder than any goal he's scored with the man. Colorado sleeper agent, Severson complained the next day. I would've doubled it if he let me go, Hughes complained in concurrence.

Dougie didn't remember when the media crew ever needed the hockey equivalent of a SWAT team, not in Boston or Calgary or Raleigh. Then again, maybe he's just not used to Jersey yet. (It's not New Jersey, Nico clued him in before one of his first post-game interviews. Just Jersey. Say New Jersey and they know you're not from here. Just Jersey and you're one of the locals.)

And here, in Just Jersey, Christopher Wescott wants Dougie Hamilton to take a second job.

"The younger generation of fans like memes," Wescott explains. The word memes rolls off his tongue like Dougie rolls out of bed after a physical game; that is to say, falls like a paperweight and ends up on the floor sprawled awkwardly, wondering why he hasn't retired and become a lawyer like his father yet. Wescott is what, five years older than Dougie, maybe? From the way he speaks, it sounds like he's an old man trying to commit the name of his smart speaker to memory. Erica, remind me to buy rice.

"And the team said you're supposedly the best at making them," Wescott continues, snapping Dougie out of this train of thought.

"Rice?" Dougie echoes, confused. "Anyone can make rice. It's just an orange packet you put in the microwave, you rip the top off a bit..."

Wescott sighs, running a hand through his hair. He's definitely thinking some dumb hockey player stereotype right now; Dougie can tell by the way his brow furrows in annoyance. "Look," and here he drops his volume two steps, scooting forward to lean across his desk, and oh this is serious? Dougie better pay at least enough attention to remember this discussion. No more rice. "I thought social media posting was just going to be putting up reverse retro pictures and celebrating stars of the week if we get any. You know, standard fare. But Andrew floated the idea with us a few weeks back and we really think we can get ahead of the league in capturing younger fans with a more dynamic social media presence." Of course it was Maclean, or, as the team called him, Picture Day. One guess as to why.

"And where do I get involved in this?" Dougie asks, but he realizes even as he asks that it's not going to change his final answer.

"We were thinking to make a meme after every win." Wescott pauses. "Oh, and some other reels and things for when it's needed. Of course Catherine's also going to be making content for us, too." Catherine Bogart, Queen of the Tiny Mic. Oh boy.

"Do I get tiny mic privileges?" Dougie flashes one of his patented Hamilton Smiles, hoping to catch Wescott off guard.

"We'll think about it." No then. Aw. Would've been fun though.

"Do I get paid?"

The director shrugs. "Aren't you on a multi-million dollar contract?"

"To play hockey," Dougie specifies. "Not to deep-fry Bratt pics." From the look of confusion on Wescott's face, Dougie reminds himself once again that he's dealing with a senior citizen in the body of a mid-30s advertising executive. The guy probably needed an assistant to turn on his computer. For him, deep-frying is exclusively for overpriced tempura. "Meme things," he explains without explaining. "But - "

"Museum pass, any place in the state, any exhibit, we can figure it out for you."

That rumor even made it here? Well. Hey. It's something to do on the weekends, he figures. And he's pretty sure Wescott, fancy director placard and all, can't actually give him a salary for this. "Fine," Dougie agrees. He's used to being underpaid, after all. Might as well have fun with it. Besides, it's a good excuse to get out of any social events he doesn't particularly want to go to. (Is he justifying this to himself? Oh, definitely. But he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to do this.)

So yeah! The basic premise of the fic is Dougie's (mis)adventures running the social media for the Devils, his work with the social media people, his reactions to the Devils' season, and the like. I tried to keep it quite light (funny, even, perhaps? but I'm not really funny). Dougie, is, at his heart, a fun character, and I'd like to think it shows a little. It's not that realistic (he definitely doesn't text from the bench!) but it's fun.

In typical Devils fashion, they lose the first game.

In typical Devils fashion, they also lose the second game.

Dougie already has the next three games lined up. He doesn't expect to need more than one of them, if he's being honest with himself, but he's personalizing for each team, so there's that. Might come in handy later in the season, too.

By the end of the second period against Anaheim, they're 2-2. This is also the approximate time Dougie realizes he doesn't have access to the Devils' social media accounts.

Fuck.

And to make matters worse, Dougie starts the third period on the ice.

Shit.

And, if that weren't bad enough, he scores a goal 33 seconds into the period.

Damn it.

All this to mean that, in the next thirty or so minutes, Dougie Hamilton needs to hack into Instagram and TikTok and get ready to post this meme.

The second he's on the bench, he paws off his gloves, reaching for his phone under the front wall. Shaking it on, Dougie quickly navigates to Instagram and logs -

"Dougie, you're on," Lindy calls. The defenseman slides his phone back and jumps over the wall.

When he gets back to the bench a minute or so later, Dougie completes the process of logging off his Instagram account, then quickly punches in the Devils' media email address for the login. It shows him the right account, which is good -

"Dougie, you're on." Lindy again.

As he skates, Dougie contemplates the password. He can't disappear from the bench mid-period to go and find whoever was still working now and ask, so he's got to figure this out on his own.

The first password Dougie tries is njdevils. No dice. He goes on for another shift, then comes back and tries raisehell. Also nothing. If he keeps this up, he's going to freeze the account. Two shifts later, Mercer scores, and now the situation is dire, just when Dougie's brain is deep-fried worse than the Bratt pictures he sent the groupchat last week.

"Hey, Haula," he whispers as the center clambers over the wall to take his position on the faceoff. "If you were gonna make a password, what would it be?" In retrospect, Haula is not the person to ask about this, but Dougie will take what he can get, thank you very much.

"I dunno, man," Haula shrugs. "Password or something?" He raises an eyebrow at the weird question, skating off. Dougie nearly facepalms at the response, but fuck it, he might as well try. password.

Holy fucking shit.

Dougie slides his phone back onto the shelf to take another shift, biting his tongue to keep from cackling so loudly that even his own teammates would stay away from him. Holy fucking shit. Wescott and company clearly have never had a single lesson about cybersecurity.

Well, he's in now, and that's the most important.

However, as I continued writing, another story "thread" popped up, this one a lot more personal to me - the story of the Polish diaspora in New Jersey. A lot of my own personal stories are reflected in this part of the fic. It makes sense in the story (Dougie rents a townhouse in Garfield to avoid being recognized in Newport, Hoboken, and that area), but it's definitely a sharp left from the fic's initial focus. The two plot lines do intersect later on, but I never got to really writing that part of the story, sadly.

A few moments later, Ms. K turns off the stove and carries the soup pot into the dining room with two oven-mitted hands. Dougie pulls himself up to steady the situation however he can, helping direct the pot into its position. Ms. K takes the ladle she had hooked onto her arm, snatching Dougie's bowl before he can react and filling it with several ladlefuls of żurek. At the hockey player's mortified expression of a silent way too much, Ms. K shakes her head emphatically. "Big man, strong, big meal."

"Okay," Dougie agrees, cautious, as he settles back down in his chair and takes his spoon, stirring the soup. Chunks of sausage - kiełbasa - float up to the top before dipping back in. "Thank you," he mumbles, a little too quiet for even his own liking. He's just tired after the game. Yeah. Tired and a little humbled by the kind gesture.

"No worries," Ms. K replies, and from the way she rubs her hands together as she sits, Dougie knows she's one step away from launching into a story over dinner. "You know Martyna from the deli?"

"Yeah," Dougie nods. One of Ms. K's co-workers at Bratek, the business on the other side of town where she cooks for a living. Dougie's been there a few times, just to bask in the atmosphere and maybe score a few free candies. Martyna's the young one, couldn't be more than 24. Her husband Konrad is, from what Dougie has heard of him, a massive piece of shit. He suspects he's going to hear more of him in a moment.

"She came in yesterday all crying," Ms. K sighs, blowing on a spoonful of soup. It reminds Dougie to try his own - it's distinctively sour, but in a good way, enticing yet filling. (He suspects Ms. K makes him a lighter batch than she normally cooks, given the difference in color between this one and the one at the deli. No matter.) "Says that barely enough money for rent. Konrad drinks it all away. Co za kurwa debil."

Dougie doesn't need to speak a word of Polish to understand the meaning behind that acidic sentence, that Ms. K clearly isn't happy with her coworker's husband. "That bad?" he queries, making sure to leave it open for interpretation.

"He even doesn't have job," Ms. K rolls her eyes. "I told her, this man no good, he not love you. No. She loves him. Enough for her that she loves him." The older lady sighs. "Love doesn't pay rent. Or food. Or gas. He needs job." Dougie nods again in agreement, letting her continue; after a moment, she does. "Nobody want to hire him. Not construction, not restaurant, nobody. All what he does is drink and complain."

"Maybe he's got some sort of mental disorder?" The defenseman offers the idea. "Sits at home all day, does nothing, drinks - "

Ms. K barks out a laugh, cutting Dougie off. "His mental disorder" (here she butchers the pronunciation of the words) "is lazy. He doesn't go to school, doesn't work. Only watch game and drink. Lazy. Mother not raise him right." She shakes her head. "You give child everything, they get lazy. You make child work, they not get lazy."

"Aha," Dougie grants the point, deciding that a debate on the existence of depression against his matronly elderly neighbor who was currently feeding him wasn't exactly his plan for the rest of the day.

"No discipline in that house," Ms. K sighs. "All three Kubiaks lazy. One I understand, three is parents' fault." A pause as Ms. K lifts her spoon. "Martyna stupid, Konrad lazy. Perfect together."

They eat for a few minutes in silence, Dougie digesting both the soup and the gossip. "She's at least a good worker though." It's a calculated statement, because Ms. K very obviously wants to keep talking, but Dougie doesn't want to hear about Polish child-rearing strategies (which, from his very limited experience, began and ended at corporal punishment). So hopefully she bites on the redirect.

"Did I tell you about Barbara?" Hook, line, sinker.

"No," Dougie hums.

"She knows nothing!" Ms. K flushes red with annoyance. "She goes all day and looks how I cook. She can't even make salad. All you do is..." Her steam runs out as she searches for the word she needs. "Zetrzeć carrot, doesn't know how."

"Cut?"

"No, not cut." Ms. K mimes running a carrot over a grater. "So you get thin."

"Grate," Dougie supplies.

She nods quickly. "Yes, grate. Cannot grate carrot. Cuts herself. Cannot stir soup - not even make soup, just stir it. Burns herself. Or gets soup dirty."

He chuckles at that. "So she's not a good chef."

"No, but she is owner's son's wife," Ms. K sighs. "Cannot be at cash register, scans things twice. Cannot stack food, food falls and breaks. Cannot cook, chicken is raw and burnt. Both on same piece. Useless."

Dougie tilts his soup bowl to fill his spoon, unable to stop his eyes from looking at the cakes on display. The nutritionists don't need to know. "Can she bake?"

"She make pączki and pączki go boom." She says it so matter-of-factly that it's hysterical. "If she know how bake, she work at Piast."

Piast, the Polish store/restaurant hybrid that looks like a literal castle on the side of the road. Dougie hasn't ever been inside, Ms. K forbidding it (and once again, he's not going to argue with the woman who clearly knows her stuff). "If you ever need Polish food, come to me. Not Piast. Owner died, place is bad now. Too expensive."

That's another thing about Polish people - they measure everything in who died. Usually with when and how thrown into the mix. Honestly, it's fascinating. Ms. K puts on her Polish television shows and points out to Dougie who had a heart attack and who got into a car accident, recounting the details as if she were the coroner. She turns on the radio and everyone got cancer or was murdered by a French guy, five songs in a row, and then an Italian song comes on. Ms. K purses her lips for a minute, then says, "Did you know their daughter disappeared? Took too many drugs, jumped off a bridge. So young, too."

It's kind of morbid, Dougie figures.

Every Sunday, Ms. K goes to church and then to the cemetery, weather permitting. She takes candles with her in fancy glass containers, lights them and leaves them on her husband's grave. Dougie's seen the containers and heard the stories, how she counts the days until she sees him again. Dougie asks her, once, whether she wants to find another husband; she laughs sadly, "When Wojciech died, I saw it was either son or new man. I said better to work for son than for stranger. Son no longer here, but am old now. No point in looking for husband. I have husband already. Just not here anymore."

I think the main "issue" with this fic is that it's Super Fucking Long. There are so many plot lines in it and so much going on that it quickly became an overwhelming sort of project and I sputtered out on energy.

If I went back to rework it, I'd have to definitely consider whether all the parts are truly necessary or whether I just want to focus on Dougie as the social media admin and go from there. Additionally, I didn't know much about some characters before beginning to write, so they come across as fairly OOC, so I need to rework that.

Fun fact, though - I originally intended bless your waters, bless your doubts to be a capstone of a series. Each fic would represent one line of "Howl" and would be a short oneshot dealing with a specific Devil and some specific situation they were in. For example:

and all grown up and traveled so well - Mercer about heritage

do you still hear the sound of the thunder while you lie up by yourself? - Palat injury

And each one would offer a new perspective, roughly in chronological order, on the Devils and their own narratives. I still feel that the "braided" fics, as I call them, would be vitally important in presenting a complete picture, and I'd want to preserve them if I do retry this one.

However, it's a bit of a "dated" fic (22-23 is so long ago now), plus it'd end up being so incredibly long... I don't think I have it in me. Maybe someday.

Have one last snippet, here, and Experience Devils Hockey with me! [profuse sobbing]

It's seven-fifteen by the time Dawson shows up, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. Classic. Dougie can't help but chuckle as he opens the door for the young center. "Nice to see you," he smiles, a little fondly. Dawson reminds him a little too much of himself. He supposes it's only kind to pay it forward and take him under his wing.

"Yeah," Dawson grins back. "What's cooking?"

"Figure it out," Dougie challenges. The kid sniffs the air, contemplating his next words, and Dougie takes the opportunity to take the finished chicken out of the oven. "Before if gets cold," he calls across the room, balancing the dish in both gloved hands. Dawson scurries over to get a better look.

"I knew it had to be garlic," the Newfoundlander comments. He pulls out his chair and plops down unceremoniously. "Got anything to drink?"

Dougie bites his tongue to stop from rolling his eyes. "Because you want to be hungover the morning before the Caps."

"It'll help the L go down," Mercer offers. Damn, they really thought they had no chance, huh?

Right. This team never did have a chance. He's been here a year already but enough of that time was on injured reserve (and the rest trying to avoid anyone on his former teams) that it's still new to him, this - this culture of expecting loss. He sees it in the eyes of the old guard, how Sevo and Wood sigh when a goal is given up like it's the last breath they know how to take. Even the newer players feel it, see it, know it.

This was once a dynasty, Dougie understands, and now the castle is in ruins.

#stereanswers #sterechats :)

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spidereggs888 · 3 months

Text

Miguel’s new secretary ooh-la-la

(lol /j 💀)

Miguel O’Hara & y/n, any gender or non gender. Very casual writing style. TW Dark humor, dangerous situations, 18+. Y/n are sorta attracted to Miguel (why else would you be here?) but he doesn’t know you lol

This is a loooong read so make sure you have time or something. Also, there’s an illustration in the middle of the chapter! Enjoy

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

MIGUEL & YOU

ACT 1 | ALGORITHMIC LOTTERY

It's the year 2110.

You are maneuvering through traffic in a sputtery fashion, the lifter problem in your engine getting so bad it almost sounds like you got rocks under the hood. The podcast is going on about alligators in Nueva York sewers.

“Couldn’t be more wrong,” you mumble, “there’s CROCODILES in the sewers, not alligators.”

You aren’t looking forward to this interview. How the heck did you manage an audition for office secretary to the CEO of Alchemax?!

“I don’t know,” you say aloud to your other self, “but if I get the job, Imma upgrade to a better ride than this heap of Maglev shit…”

But there’s other bitches who want this position. Two of them you are aware of: Syd and Brody. Syd is a real suck up who will say any damn thing to get the position. She out-groveled you and got the lead PR accounting job you wanted. Suck-up Syd is what you call her around your friends. Brody on the other hand is opposite; he thinks he can strong-arm his way into anything and he pretty much has. He’s kicked people down, screwed people over, and there’s a rumor he filed a sexual harassment charge on his friend Ashton just to get the promotion before Ashton could.

These two skanks are gonna be tricky, but that’s the least of why you loathe this whole thing. You also heard that Miguel O’Hara is a hard ass. When he came into power a few years ago, he immediately fired the former secretary for talking about his father in a positive light. Then he proceeded to chew and spit out people who ever had the misfortune of being in that job position.

“Or maybe they just cut their losses after raking in half a billion,” your friend Speshall guessed the last time you seen her, “they prolly couldn’t take the heat for that long so they waited until they were set for life then said something stupid on purpose to get him to let them go. What a retirement plan! To work for the sexiest man of the year then have him berate you on your way out!”

She was always like this.

Anyway, now your car is not being validated in the automated parking center.

“What the HELL?!”

“Sorry, your credit has been declined.”

“Oh fuck me-“

You fumble your lanyard of data sticks. You are looking for the green one, which has a small amount of credit you procured from test playing phone games. You lean out of your car window to bring the green stick drive near the wireless reader.

“Sorry, we cannot accept credit from online gambling. Please use another method of payment.”

“Oh fuck you!”

≋ ≋ ≋ ≋

Now you are walking. You had to park where they don’t give a shit about where your money is from. Alchemax is trying to create a good precedent by not accepting dirty money, but Alchemax, as far as you know, does dirtier stuff for pay. Why the hell is “gambling money” any different?!

Scowling so hard, you almost didn’t notice there’s some douchebag trying to walk close behind you. He probably saw the lanyard of data sticks around your neck, so you fluff your scarf around until they are covered.

“I don’t have any money, muh guy” you say in your heaviest Nueva York accent along with this generations lingo.

“Oh I’m not afta you. I was tryna tell ya there’s this otha weirdo following ya. I’m tryna group up here.”

You know better than to look back. That’s what this fucko wants you to do. He’s probably a flasher, so you walk into traffic.

“Hey that’s dangerous, yo!”

You don’t listen. Cars flying past is not as scary as going up to see the freakin CEO of Alchemax.

No cars hit you, so now you have to face reality. You walk into the Alchemax Business Bureau building (one of hundreds), and wave your ID at the receptionist in the lobby. The receptionist is preoccupied with a lady who has one hand on her hip and the other holding out a holo watch. It’s projecting a screen with a giant hourglass animation flipping over and over.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard to get a damn cup of coffee around here, I just don’t!”

“C’mon it’s not necessary to bring security here, ma’am.”

He remains standing behind his desk and grimaces at you. You really need to get him to validate your ID so you won’t be stopped by security, so you pull up your phone and say to the woman, “you want some coffee coupons for Dunkin Donuts?”

“What?”

You open your savings app and hastily air-swipe several coupons to her holo device like someone flicking bills at a stripper. She stops to look at them.

“A regular frap for half off? Oh woooow, how- will they really honor this?” She asks.

“Yeah! It’s good for two more days, so you may wanna hurry over to the kiosk at the west end.”

“Really?”

“They sell all brands of coffee, they’ll honor it.”

“Well, nevermind, then,” she says curtly to the receptionist as she turns her shoulder away, “Didn’t want hours-old coffee anyway.”

She turns on her fancy heel and trots away. You grin stupidly at the receptionist who rolls his eyes and snatches your ID card from you. He swipes it near his card reader then flicks it back without a word.

After a nod, you swiftly leave down the lobby to the elevator area. You round the corner and see an open elevator closing. It's the only one since the other two are under construction. You rush forward as fast as your legs will allow.

"Wait wait WAIT WAIT!"

The doors are closing and you see the face of Suck-up Syd with her smoky eyes and faux fur capelet. She smiles and does nothing as the doors close.

"Shocking typical," you grumble. But you know where the other elevator is. You take off to the other end of the building for the second set of elevators.

You make it onto the elevator with two other people, some white chick and an Indian dude. The lady sees your pass.

"Going for the secretary job?" She asks.

"Yeah."

“Me too. If I don’t get this, I’m going to jump from this building,” the lady jokes.

“If I get this, I WILL jump from this building,” you add.

“Either way, it's gonna be job security for the custodian department,” the Indian guy says. All three of you chuckle politely.

The elevator lets more people in. You check your phone. You are fucking late by 20 minutes, but so is the lady who wants this job or else. You assume it would have taken a while anyway, since there was about 15 people going in for this very same job. Could it be you?! Could you land this job?! What if your mom was wrong?! And what if O’Hara says yes? What if you are set for life?

The final floor of this elevator is reached. You wobble on your way out. The lady doesn’t move.

“Actually, I can’t do this. I’m going home.”

The elevator doors close and she goes back down. You hear a faint byeeeeeeeeeee as the elevator descends to lower levels. You pay no heed and follow the Indian man into the massive hall.

There’s already chaos. One guy is being escorted out of the lobby by his shirt collar, and he's spouting obscenities. Some lady had dropped all her paperwork and she’s too numb to pick it up again. Two ladies near her are sarcastically wishing each other luck, one of them is Suck-up Syd. She looks 10x more desperate today with her tight-fitting outfit and belt buckle the size of a plate. Her overly fake smile gives you no esteem or hope. You almost sit but realize there’s barf on the chair.

Okay, surely everyone is overreacting in here.

“Man I’m not scared at all. There’s a trick to facing down Alpha males,” says a guy who you didn’t ask.

“Ah, cool.” you say through a grin. It’s Brody. You don’t even have to see him to know he’s there with his overwhelming presence of snobbery.

“See, as a Sigma male,” he continues, leaning on the back of the barf chair to talk to you, “I don’t adhere to the Alpha’s orders. That’s how the pack survives! One guy is an outlier so like if the Alpha fails in his role as leader, the Sigma will show by example and the rest of the females and Betas will follow him-“

“BRODY!”

You and Brody see Ashton in the doorway you came from. Ashton beelines across the room with his briefcase raised high. He brings it down on Brody with a loud clunk and they grapple and exchange blows. You go ahead and sit down perfectly still.

"Oh my GOD!" Suck-up Syd muses. She only sees this as two less competitors. You wince as the men start yelling obscenities at each other in their struggle. The guards who took out the last guy come back in and see this happening and they both huff angrily.

"Next!"

"Ah, that's me!" Syd says, “you guys are welcome to leave, I probably got this in the bag.”

She gets up and thrusts her capelet onto the lobby assistant.

.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱ⋅.˳ ˳.⋅ॱ˙˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.

Four hours pass. Brody and Ashton were escorted from the building, those bozos didn’t even get an interview, but it was funny watching Brody get dragged down to hell by a demon he wronged.

Suck-up Syd walked out in tears and a forced smile. You felt bad for making fun of her in the past. She’s just kinda desperate and a little pathetic. You assume groveling doesn't work on the boss.

Other people came and went swiftly. The cheerful Indian man from earlier left looking surprised at his failure. The lady who dropped all her crap earlier apparently already had an interview and was reeling from her bad luck. You understand their disappointment since being chosen for this position was like winning the lottery, except you don't know if you won or not.

“Next!”

Your stomach twists but you refuse to be like them. This is just a job. You’ll be answering phones, emails, and possibly even mailing some dry cleaning. No big fuckin deal.

You thank the lobby assistant but she ignores you and walks away. She is just doing her job. She looks very tired of everyone else’s shit and is probably glad it's over. You walk to the elevator where the second to last person is taking baby-steps, talking on his phone with someone nursing his wounded pride. That could be you in a minute.

I'm probably not gonna get it either, you think, but I'm going down with some dignity.

You work yourself up as you step into yet another elevator, this one glass paneled. You stare across Nueva York as you ascend, contemplating your future. So what if you don't make it? You will simply fall back to your job and go about your life. Your mom will say she's right about the invitation being a fluke. You will go back to paying off debts and supplementing your food budget by testing mobile phone games during work hours and before you go to sleep. You see your own reflection, no longer as young as you used to be, and you sigh.

The glass doors open behind you. You walk through another set of foggy glass doors. Despite your self pep talk, you are still not looking forward to this. You've seen pictures of Miguel O'Hara before; over 6 feet tall, wide shoulders that could support an ox yoke, and a presence so large one would think he could go toe to toe with Godzilla. How will the interview go? You imagine fire. You expect a demon sitting behind a black marble desk in the darkness, a horrendous mob boss wearing Scarface attire, spitting fiery facts and passing cruel judgment, his horns ascending at the heavens with searing indifference and contempt for mercy. You expect a fax machine in the corner that will print out your death.

This is not what you see.

There he is, in this meager temp office sitting behind a tiny desk covered in empty water bottles. His shoulders are wider than the desk, but he's scrunching them in to seem normal. He's wearing a regular dress shirt, no tie. No fancy jewelry either, just some off-brand oversized watch on his left wrist. He looks disappointed already, but not at you. He’s squinting down at some of the tiny desks’ interactive holo-projections. You see your name on one of the files he’s peering at through comically large anti glare glasses.

You don’t sit. You are too stressed. He hasn’t noticed you. He picks up one of the water bottles and carefully opens it with his monster hands. They look travel-sized compared to him. He sips it and notices you.

“Hello!” You greet.

He finishes it in two gulps and sets it down slowly, as to not disturb the other bottles.

“Okay I don’t have a lot of time left, so let’s cut through here… you work for the guys in the PR department-“

“Ah yeah, they are a very friendly bunch down there! That is until you get to know them!” You blurt out. He looks up at you with tired eyes and swipes through the files without looking at them.

“Says here you were demoted from vice head PR accounting a while back, but you attached a note saying you have an alibi? Let’s hear it.”

“Uhhh.”

“C’mon I don’t have all day.”

“There was a payment discrepancy, uh, I was given a raise but I noticed my boss didn’t update it for a whole month. He was on vacation and wasn't answering my calls, so... since he left the finances to me I updated it myself… And I got into trouble BUT it was technically not embezzlement, so I was given an ultimatum to either move to a lower department or get fired, so-“

“Self-reliant. Got it. There's a note from your current department head saying she's been notified anonymously that you've been paying for Alchemax home services with gambling money, what do you have to say about that?"

"I- that is a th- thing with SoloGameMedia, ah, they are a parent company to a gambling franchise, therefore every transaction from them is registered as gambling profit- but I test games with- from them directly! It's a side hustle- thing, I- that, I DO NOT playtest games during work hours! Only on-"

"Why do you think I should hire you?”

You are caught off guard by the most basic interview question.

“Hhhhhh WELL… because you need a secretary now?”

He’s already looking back down at the files again. You can see NYPD files, apparently he’s now looking at your small criminal record. You also notice his shirt is unbuttoned on the top. For curiosity's sake, you discreetly raise up on your toes to see down his cleavage. It's deeper than you expected. One mighty flex and that shirt will send buttons flying everywhere. He looks back up as you quickly drop back down on your heels.

“Yeah. Mmm. Ok. So you are way in over your head in college and credit debt, you have been gambling as a means to get by- really don’t care about that, and you did not dispute your boss's ultimatum when you had the chance."

"Wait, what?"

"Four years ago, when your boss gave you the ultimatum to get demoted or get fired. His proposal was ILLEGAL."

Your gut twists.

"That- that was illegal?!"

"You had six months to report him and you didn't. Why?"

"Be- because I just thought he was being fair, I-"

"I'm sorry, but you got screwed."

He looks sincere behind those nerdy lenses with his pout lips. You really want to throw something right now.

“I… oh…”

"Look, the most I can do is re-open your case," he says as he pushes his glasses back up his nose bridge, "You might get a small settlement out of it, but even that isn't guaranteed."

"So... I'm not getting the job?"

"How do you expect to get hired with such an unexceptional history of white collar crime and a meek attitude that's gotten you nowhere? Hey Lyla? Is this all we have?”

An AI assistant pops up from the interactive desk.

“This is the last one, sir.”

“Okay, cool. Look I’m sure you’re actually great at your job, but I have places to be-“

“Wha- well so do I!”

“Uh huh, nice talking to you,“ he scoots his chair back and hits his knee on the tiny desk, sending empty bottles scattering all over the room. He cringes.

“Well if I’m so unexceptional, why was I accepted for an interview?!”

“I’m gonna guess because of some algorithmic lottery? Probably to do with the amount of experience you have in your department, I dunno,” He guesses as he attempts to gather the bottles by sweeping them under the desk with his shoes, “If you wanna blame someone for the short interview time, thank those other time-wasters who came before you. I gotta go.”

“Now WAIT a… minute”

He stands up from his tiny desk as you say that. He’s towering over you with a tired expression and loose strands of hair about his face.

“What?” He asks, all friendliness gone.

“Can we continue this interview at a different time? You obviously haven’t found a secretary you want, but you still need one, right?! I could be the one you need even if I’m not the one you want!”

It takes every inch of your being to not slap yourself on the forehead. He is scrunching his nose, squinting down at you with mild contempt. You get a good look at his sharp, broad temples and cheekbones, complete with a hardened jaw. His thick dark lips are pulled to one side in annoyance and are accentuated with a pair of jowls that look poised to bite at any time like some kind of deep sea angler fish. His eyes are very dark. They almost look red…

His expression goes blank as he sighs.

“Okay.”

“Great! Ah, when?!”

“Tomorrow, same time.”

“Grabsolutely- Great- fantastic! I won’t let you down!”

“Uh huh.”

He leaves. You assume you should leave too. You awkwardly follow him. He grabs his coat off a nearby chair, and you get a brief display of his amazing body shape as he flips the coat over his shoulders. You avert your attention to the floor, already feeling disrespectful after having looked down his shirt. Now you are both in the elevator. You are doing all in your power not to pass out over your small lucky break.

O’Hara pretends you aren’t there as he looks at his phone and chats with his AI assistant.

“Lyla, push the evening meeting to tomorrow as well, except an hour earlier.”

“Roger that!”

“I need coffee.”

“Roger that also!”

“Please, PLEASE tell them to not add cream. I really hate when they do that.”

You wanna ask him if he’s lactose intolerant but you already pushed your luck today.

Apparently he is exiting the building in the same way you are going, but he's booking it with long ass strides and it's difficult to keep up. You both end up on the same elevator again, this time with other people. He awkwardly acknowledges you with a blank smirk and brow raise, then promptly looks back down at his phone. Everyone else is trying not to bother him.

"Hello, Mister O'Hara, I didn't realize you were here! Hi!" says a lady who is shooting her shot at a social connection (she totally knew he was there.)

"Ah, hey. Miss...?"

"Stacy Brian! We met at the Student Festival earlier this year."

"Oh, right, right! Miss Brian, how are you?"

"Doing well! I didn’t know you wore glasses!"

"Oh- I totally forgot these were on my face," he admits while taking them off and trying to find a place to stash them, "I actually don’t wear glasses, it's- um, I have issues with bright computer screens."

You discreetly watch him in the elevator wall reflection as he quickly swaps the lenses out for a pair of red sunglasses. The elevator doors open and everyone flows out into the foyer. You realize you never got his card.

"Hey one more thing, sir!" You call out to him.

"What?"

"I don't have your number! What if we need to reschedule?!"

"Ah, right. Get your phone out, please."

He turns back around and searches for something on his phone. With a swift flick of his hand, he air drops his ID and number to your device.

"Thank you!"

"¡De nada!"

He swiftly leaves through the front doors and trots down the steps. You watch this huge marvel of nature hail a cab. The automated transporter car is so small that he has to bring his shoulders in tight to fit through the doorway. This seems to have more to do with him not wanting to snag his nice jacket.

A man of this position and wealth... hailing a cab? Must be in THAT much of a hurry. You look down at the data he sent you. His ID photo looks like they took his picture after pulling an all-nighter, and his half-hearted smile reveals his crooked teeth. But somehow he still looks great in an unconventional way.

•°《💀》°•

You drive home, feeling both anxious and also deflated. Miguel O'Hara was a mixed bag of what you expected. Speshall hyped him up as a sexy hunk of the year and Brody felt so intimidated that he went on an unwarranted Alpha Male rant, but the guy was so awkward with his tiny desk and water bottles and weird glasses, and he was whining to his AI helper about his coffee. He’s a large… finicky… lactose-intolerant nerd, but he's also got the moxy to move mountains. What’s more, now ya gotta think of what to say to him in the next interview. What could be expected of a guy like that? What if he cancels the meeting and your chance is lost forever?

Your car makes it home and you sit in it for a moment. Speshall left you a text asking about the interview.

Went weird, you text back.

"Welcome back, tenant 27," the AI apartment valet greets.

You open your car door and notice you've been parked over the grates again. You remember when you last dropped your phone in this spot, the fucking thing went right in between the grate holes and you couldn’t get it back for a week. You have the presence of mind to upload the latest bit of information (O'Hara's phone number) to your data cloud.

You walk through the parking garage. You know all the safe routes. It didn’t matter who you were, Nueva York was never safe at night.

You hear footsteps to your left but it’s just a couple of people walking together, a man and woman trying to huddle. The garage opening is just ahead. You go ahead and march out, not looking back.

You step out into the warm breeze of middle-class Nueva York. The wind is artificial, billowing from the hydro-electric plants that keeps this city running. It took you forever to get here, a lot of cheap-skating, white lies, and debt piling to maintain this life, but you are here! Unapologetic holo screens buzz near you as you walk, begging you to spend money as they light up the way to your apartment. There's no point in tapping their "no" buttons since that just wastes your time. The screens showcased brand-new cars, beautiful clothes, and radiant health. If you had more money, at least some of that could be yours. You hate that people roll around in all the wonderful things this world has to offer while you have to make do with decade old clothing and over-processed food. Where the hell is everyone getting it all from? When the hell will you get yours?

“Hey! Wanna buy a shared data cloud?!”

You are now being bothered by a salesman. You say nothing and keep walking. Even saying no opens more dialogue. He gives up but another comes at you.

“Wanna be a part of the elite task force that edits any and all articles about Thor?! It’s a paying job! $100 an hour!”

As dystopian as it sounds, $100 an hour won’t get you far in Nueva York, not in this era of quadrillionaires.

“Hey, I saw ya on da street earlier! Ya walked into traffic!”

You accidentally glance over at the familiar voice talking about the familiar subject. He’s got you. Your eyes are fixated on a creepypasta face, his irises flashing in a hypnotic pattern. This was way worse than the idea of the guy being just a flasher.

He’s a black market demon. The worst street hawker known to man.

You can’t remember much else besides him taking you by the hand and leading you away.

_________________________________________

Next: ACT 2 | BLACK MARKET DEMONS

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #kinda #not really #more like awkward turtle #MIGUEL & YOU #Spiderman 2099 fanfic #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n

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bunnygirl678 · 4 months

Text

it's valentine's day, i'm sick so i didn't go bar hopping like i had planned on doing, this is my first single valentine's day in like 7 years and tbh i was looking forward to drinking like i was 22 again, lmao, so in turn y'all are gonna get a bull tauros riding au, little back story, my father and most of my male relatives were bull riders in their younger years so i grew up around the culture and i'm from Texas (fun fact I have the Texas flag above my bed like i'm a frat boy lmao) Also this is probably more along the lines of gameverse?

-Our tauros riders are red and green

-they're competitive with each other, they've been rivals since their mutton wooloo bustin days, they've both got their fair share of buckles, red is the current world champ

-they have a little secret though, they're mutually in love with each other but neither will admit

-red doesn't speak to most people, won't do interviews, he'll talk to Green though, Green on the other end will take any sponsorship he can get, is constantly doing interviews, loves the attention

-then some new comers pop up on the scene, we've got the mysterious redheaded cowboy with a chip on his shoulder named Silver, and he's itching to take the title from Red

-who is Silver? well turns out he's the son of Giovanni, the previous champion who came out of retirement to go up against red,

-but Giovanni got hurt, bad, like he almost died, Silver blames Red for what happened to his father, but Silver looks nothing like his father and doesn't use his name so no one knows who he is, but he wants revenge

-Silver refuses to make friends with anyone, even though Green keeps reaching out, desperately trying

-then there's Gold, a buckle bunnelby (buckle bunny is a term for "fake" country girls who hang around rodeos trying to date the cowboys) who has a thing for redheads

-Gold takes interest in Silver, who is up and coming winning a bunch, there's more to Gold than meets the eye, Silver ends up letting Gold hang around him a lot and falls for the cutie the more he gets to know the real him

-Green too becomes close with Gold, but not in a romantic way (remember he's hopelessly in love with his rival), problem is Red doesn't know that

-Red gets jealous that Green and Gold hang around together he starts lashing out a bit towards Gold, now Silver already hates Red but watching Red be an ass to Gold pisses him off even more

-they're practicing together, Red is being a super asshole to Gold, and Gold is done. He gets up on a bull before Silver/Green can stop him,

-Guess what, Gold was an up and coming rider before he suddenly quit, after proving himself he jumps off leaving everyone flabbergasted and just keeps walking,

-Silver ends up going after him, because he thought they were friends why would he never tell him, Gold admits crying that his mom passed from an extended illness and he couldn't bring himself to keep going, it had always been their thing, whereas with Silver it was the opposite, he had never been interested until his dad got hurt

-Silver convinces Gold to start riding again, suddenly he's not as interested in revenge but wants to see Gold succeed, late one night after a particularly grueling training Gold leans in and kisses Silver, Silver kisses back, they're together now <3

-Red pushes himself harder, Green announces that he's going to retire at the end of the season, Red is heart broken the best part of riding is competing against Green, and he really won't see Green anymore if he retires, like he knows it's the end of their friendship

-it's finally time for the big finals, red, green, silver, gold are the top contenders, Silver places 4th, he and his father share a nice moment, he's upset he didn't beat Red, but he found love awwww

-green places 3rd, he's happy, says he's looking forward to starting the next chapter of his life (maybe he gets a ranch idk), but there's a sadness in his eyes when he looks at red, regret for things never said or done

-it's down to red vs gold, red hates gold, he thinks green likes him, doesn't know about silver, ect ect

-gold wins 1st, he's the new champion, he points the sky and says 'look mama i did it!' very sweet and emotional, silver runs out kissing his boy, not only did gold do amazing and fulfilled his dream, he beat red effectively getting revenge in silver's eyes

-red is like wait???? gold is with silver???? then he's like oh shit green must be heartbroken, that was why he looked so sad, he goes to find green and tell him how sorry he was, and at first green thinks it's about him placing 3rd and he's kinda pissed about it, like it feels condescending

-but red is like you deserve better than gold anyway, and green is like wait what? you thought i liked gold?? no you big dummy i like you!

-thinking it's his last chance, green kisses red, who immediately kisses back

-leads to 'oh wait i thought this was one-sided'

-red who really cares more about green than his title announces his retirement, he and green settle down on a ranch growing old together

-gold rides a few more seasons then retires as well, he and silver breed tauros and live happily ever after

#namelessshipping #reguri #preciousmetalshipping #this is one of those aus that appeal to me and like maybe one other person

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beechicory · 2 years

Text

Seb, a few days before his final race, did a fascinating interview discussing many, many things, including:

his decision to retire being for him

the World Cup in Qatar (and when, or if, sports should go there)

sportswashing and flowery words, and

the need for F1 to put its money where its flowery words are in terms of improving human rights

that human rights, and projects to improve human rights, require funding $$$ and actions, not words and photo-ops

that F1 must be be a) transparent, and b) accountable about the money it gets and where that money goes

It's a really good discussion, and he's really thoughtful - I think that even if one were to disagree with his conclusions, you'd leave recognising his logic and sincerity (and moral conviction).

The interview, with Philipp Schneider of Süddeutsche Zeitung, was difficult to get access to (here's a link to it on archive.ph) so I'm posting the google-translated text behind the Read More. (As always when something is google-translated, we're probably missing some nuance, etc)

I really recommend reading it!

Tw for discussion of homophobia, etc.

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

Conversation with Sebastian Vettel

"I want to experience happiness without having to drive for it"

Nov 18, 2022 at 6:51 p.m

Before his last race, Sebastian Vettel talks about the reasons for the end of his career, the driver's dependence on the car and material - and makes demands on Fifa and Formula 1.

SZ: Mr. Vettel, a face-to-face meeting was originally planned. Now we can at least connect by phone. That saves CO2 emissions and should be in your interest, right?

Sebastian Vettel: Absolutely. That's how it works wonderfully.

Your Formula 1 career ends on Sunday with a final race in Abu Dhabi . And a lot of people get excited because they want to know what you're going to do in the future. Does that surprise you?

Luckily, my decision doesn't affect the people, it affects me. And it's not like I got up in the morning and thought: like that! Now is the time to stop. I've been thinking about this for a long time. And even if I can't say exactly what comes after that - I'm looking forward to what comes after that!

Good to hear.

At some point, every athlete reaches the point where their career can no longer continue, for whatever reason, whether self-chosen or not. I'm not super special in that regard. The big task for me will be to find something that gives me the same level of satisfaction as I did in the years in Formula 1. One thing is certain: the big adrenaline rush and the feeling of sitting in the car will no longer exist. But that was clear to me.

We have a theory as to where the keen interest in your post-career life comes from.

How does it look?

We don't know of any professional athlete who has ever pushed his career with so much momentum during his active time. Lately one had the feeling that you are more often in the beehive than in the car and more of a political ambassador than a racing driver!

yes, good Maybe that's because there's not much to celebrate for me on the track at the moment. The sporting success in recent years has not been so outstanding that one could have said or written much about it.

You are not only leaving Formula 1 as a four-time world champion, but also as an important eyewitness. What do you think has changed the most in the past 15 years?

I think the sport, the genetics or what defines the sport is probably unchanged since Formula 1 came along. Yes, cars are changing, and so are people. But the core of Formula 1 has remained the same. I still love this sport, since I was little I've done nothing else, dreamed of nothing else, nothing else has ever really driven me. So what's different? The dimensions of the sport have grown enormously in recent years. So internationally, in Germany Formula 1 has shrunk.

Is that how you perceive it?

Formula 1 was far bigger in Germany when I started. And of course it was greatest when the boom years around Michael (Schumacher, editor's note) were around, in the mid-nineties, early 2000. Then there was another strong wave at my most successful time. But after that, interest in Germany decreased significantly.

Why is that?

On the one hand, because not all races are broadcast on free TV. But there is another important point: I am afraid that Germany is only a pioneer in terms of its view of Formula 1. There are simply more and more important issues that are coming to the fore. And that's why the question of the relevance of Formula 1 arises for many people.

But are you still a fan?

Naturally! I'm totally euphoric about our sport! That's exactly why I see how important it is to look at him critically. The way we deal with resources is not a role model, we should be much more economical. If that is not the case soon, the question will quickly arise around the world as to whether Formula 1 is still viable. And then interest should decrease everywhere, as has already happened in Germany.

Exciting theory. The general perception is rather: Formula 1 is going through the roof everywhere, just not in Germany and Brazil, because people there don't want to spend money on pay TV.

The problem is deeper. We as a society do not want to underestimate the emergency we are in. In the decades to come, we will increasingly have to ask ourselves the question: What is still possible, what can we still afford? And every sport then has to justify itself for the way in which it is played.

So not just Formula 1?

Not at all. Us first, of course, because in our sport we drive around, burn resources and still need fossil fuels. But a football World Cup, the Olympic Games, the Bundesliga too: every major event has to reinvent itself and see how it can leave a smaller footprint.

From ecological to sporting criticism: The season began with a technology amendment that was announced with great pomp and aimed at pushing the field closer together. Why has the season turned out to be the most one-sided in years?

After big rule changes there is often a gap between a top team and the rest. The goal was to make overtaking and the show better and to make it easier for us to overtake. It's gotten a little better, but the big revolution that was announced with the new rules didn't materialize. It would have been better for the sport this season to have left the rules as they were. However, a process has been started that has the potential to bring the field closer together in the coming years. Also thanks to the budget cap, not only the teams with a lot or a lot of money will win in the long term, but also the smaller teams. However, this will only happen in a horizon of five years.

It was far more exciting in 2010: you only snagged your first title in the last race. Has Abu Dhabi been a happy place for you since then?

(laughs) Well, the racetrack and what happened on the racetrack, yes! I have many fond memories of winning the 2010 World Cup. It doesn't feel like yesterday. And a lot has happened since then.

Red Bull boss Dietrich Mateschitz then said that the way to the world championship title in the next few years would only be through you. And adds: Provided he's in the right car. The sentence was prophetic: it included all the titles that followed, but also your sometimes dreary years in worse cars. A driver drives the competition to the ground in the Red Bull and fails to win a title after switching to Ferrari and Aston Martin . Do you understand critics who say: what kind of sport is that?

The dependency of a driver on the team and material is actually enormous. But even in the Bundesliga you don't really have a chance of winning the championship if you're not FC Bayern.

The difference, however, is that while a player can shine on a bad football team, it's much harder on a Haas or Aston Martin.

Formula 1 has always been like this. In the fifties, in the seventies, and it's still like that today. From this point of view, however, the past few years have been very instructive for me. In the beginning, my aspirations in Formula 1 were very much focused on success. And then success came, very quickly and very powerfully. I rode the wave for as long as the wave was available.

A wave called Red Bull , on which you won four world titles...

Well, and then in the last few years the water has been under my board (laughs) ... or the wind has been taken out of my sails. But that doesn't mean my efforts are any smaller. I learned that there is a midfield and a backfield that I didn't bother with that much before because it was too far away. In any case, something interesting also happens there: the efforts are just as great, but the reward is completely absent.

Completely?

I would say yes. And that is of course a very, very hard bread for the motivation of the teams and also the drivers. They bob around in the back for years, go unnoticed and hope that they will take the small chance to shine when they present themselves. They are not only dependent on their motivation, their skills and talent - but also on the surrounding environment. It takes a bit of luck to be in the right place at the right time. The past few years have shaped me in this respect and taught me a lot, including about myself. In that respect, I don't want to do without them, even if I could have given them all away from a sporting point of view.

When we spoke in 2018, you said: your dream isn't finished yet, you still wanted to be world champion in a red car like your role model Michael Schumacher. Do you now console yourself with the belief that you had no chance of winning the Ferrari title?

We did not make it. So I could say: We didn't stand a chance. Or I could torture myself and ask: what was missing from the car? What slowed us down in development? What was perhaps structurally not ideal? You could have recognized some things and saved yourself some mistakes. But it wasn't like that. We tried everything as a team and gave everything. Even in hindsight, it doesn't feel like I left anything behind or that I was completely off track. Yes, I think unfortunately we didn't have a real chance to fight to the end.

Because Mercedes was too powerful?

You have to be fair enough to accept that the Mercedes- Lewis Hamilton package was the best. They had a better pace of development and therefore drove better than us. Which of course is a shame. I think I can live with that now as well as with the question of whether this is the right time for me to say goodbye. Or whether it might have needed another sense of achievement.

The question then arises as to what a sense of achievement in the Aston Martin could even look like.

What is the right time? Do you need a title to finish? A won race? A fastest lap? Any climax? Those are all questions I asked myself. It's not my fault if people expect something just because it would have been a nicer story. Or when they nag because they think my career is not smooth because I drive around the back and quit anyway. I'm the only one who has to live or deal with my situation. And after all these years I know exactly what I can do. I know what it takes to win races. And I know I don't have any of that right now. I'm still so confident in myself that I say: If I'm in the right package and have the right attitude, then I can get back up there at the front. Still.

When Nico Rosberg retired after his only title, not everyone was pleased either: critics said he fled because he felt he would never defeat Lewis Hamilton again.

Even. The length of time after your career is so infinitely long. Definitely wanting to win another title is not a recipe for success for the 40 or 50 years that follow. And I was lucky enough to be able to celebrate so many titles that I don't even know which one was the best. Just because you stopped with a title doesn't mean your career after your career will be 100 percent great.

After all, Nico Rosberg made it into the TV show The Lion's Den. But because you so often talk about your career after your career and recently said in Der Spiegel that you wanted to do it like Stefan Raab: just finish and then go underground. Anyone who has followed your activities beyond the race track will understand: you want to do things differently than Stefan Raab. They create a new stage for themselves so as not to disappear afterwards.

(laughs) Time will tell. I just said that I admire it when someone manages to transform their life in such a way that they say: I don't need any of this anymore! Maybe you can now simply bring your experience, your strengths and also your knowledge, which you have brought to bear in front of the camera over the years, behind the camera. So maybe you still work in the same profession, but you don't need the limelight as much anymore.

Fortunately, more people work behind the camera than in front of the camera in Formula 1 anyway.

Honestly, I wish I could find something I'm happy with. I want to experience good luck without having to drive (laughs) .

But to your legacy as a critic of Formula 1: Formula 1 is expanding into more and more countries where human rights are not respected. Football fans are protesting in the stadiums against the World Cup, which begins in Qatar on Sunday . Are motorsport fans less political?

Good question. In controversial countries like Qatar, football was kicked off ten years ago. There may not have been a World Cup yet, but that's where clubs held their winter camps.

FC Bayern has been going to Qatar regularly for years.

For example. We as Formula 1 have been organizing races in these countries for a long time. I think our world should keep evolving. That's why certain things can no longer be considered okay.

Qatar's World Cup ambassador described being gay as "mental damage" in front of the camera in a ZDF documentary.

That is not how it works! This is outrageous!

The mantra of the Qatari whitewashers that society is becoming more liberal, you just have to keep going there, organize big events and wait a few years - isn't that obviously a misconception?

Might be. But Formula 1 is booming internationally and is opening up to a younger audience thanks to the Netflix series "Drive to Survive". And when these young people come to the races, they may hear from other spectators that unbearable tone that many women, for example, suffer from. Then the young people can raise their voices and say: Hey, that's not possible! And this is how debates may arise that will help society as a whole. What is definitely no longer possible: that someone in a country where there are human rights violations talks their way out; For example with the argument: "That's just the way it is with us. Get over it!"

Isn't it naïve to believe that such a change is taking place?

That's why I specifically demand that sport should give itself a compass, set up a moral code and then stick to it. There it is then precisely determined what the basic political requirements must be in order for sport to be allowed to take place in a country. Certain things and certain countries are simply no longer there. Too much is too much. And then we say no as Formula 1 or FIFA . And don't just nod politely and take the money or help us with any other perks the country might offer.

For example, it could say: Don't drive in countries where critical journalists are cut up with bone saws. Formula 1 has signed a ten-year contract with Saudi Arabia.

Again: homophobic comments like that of the World Cup ambassador are absolutely unacceptable. And it puts the athletes in an extremely difficult situation: us drivers in Formula One, but also the players who will take part in the World Cup. You all have to ask yourself a very difficult question: Can I or am I even allowed to practice my sport in this place?

Your Answer?

You can't expect the players to get together and decide: We're skipping this moment, this unique feature in our lives, playing a World Cup, for political reasons. On the other hand, that would be an extremely good sign. It's difficult for the players, but easier for the spectators. You just couldn't look. I myself really enjoy watching football and I love European and World Cups. But sometimes I think: If I don't watch now, don't I also punish all the players who do their best for themselves and their team and are passionate about their sport? But when I think about it that way...

Then?

If statements like those of the World Cup ambassador are made, then we simply shouldn't go to Qatar! The saying was more than backward-looking. The sport, the whole association should say: This is not the right place to do sport there.

Especially since the ambassador still gets money to show as friendly a face as possible to the outside world. He proves that nothing gets better just because sport is organized.

There's a chance. Even our Western societies have not eaten wisdom with spoons and can now say: Dear country XY, do everything as we do and everything will be fine! We also have things that should be significantly better. But if you want to accelerate change in Qatar or Saudi Arabia, then as a sport we need transparency: we have to publish the unembellished numbers of how much money we collect from the countries. And we have to clearly communicate how much of it flows back into projects that then really drive change there on the ground.

A very large and a very small number.

Allegedly. But as long as these issues remain in the background and are veiled, as long as no one knows how much money is being spent and what is being done with it, we will remain stationary. It also doesn't help if you meet somewhere and take a picture of banging a spade in the ground or planting a tree.

You went karting with young women in Saudi Arabia and published photos of it.

That was only a small gesture, but social change does not come for free. Many important projects cost money. And if a country has plenty of money to attract big sport, then some of it, even a large part, should be used to improve people's lives.

Some problems in Qatar cannot be solved by projects. Homosexuality is forbidden, the ambassador only said what is the law. So shouldn't the code you're asking for it say: don't drive in countries where same-sex lovers are jailed?

Just as. Fifa, Formula 1 and other sports associations should also consistently demand the implementation of the demands that they formulate in flowery words. And then say: You can bid as much money as you want, but we won't come. At the moment it is unfortunately still the case that as an organizer you can get away with it if you take a few nice photos. The fundamental problem is another.

That would?

There is still no authority that can demand consequences if an association does not meet the requirements it sets for itself. Formula 1 has set itself the goal of being climate neutral by 2030. Nice and good. But why can't it be checked by an independent and critical body along the way? To then live with the consequences and possible penalties, whatever they may look like? What happens if Formula 1 takes a wrong turn on the way to climate neutrality and doesn't meet its own demands? Or FIFA on the way to more equality and diversity? Unfortunately, at the moment it's like this: Formula 1 controls Formula 1, and Fifa controls Fifa.

But who should control the big associations?

There are independent instances that deal with all kinds of tests that could be won. But it would help if you didn't just set an abstract goal, but divided the way there into transparent intermediate stages. And then there's the general public, the fans in the stands, journalists reporting on it. And wouldn't that be a very, very broad, international and good control body? So I don't see why a lot of problems can't be solved with transparency.

It's a pity that you drive your last race. Actually, because of your sense of mission, you should be forced to continue to circle until retirement age.

Oh, I do not know ...

With all his love for Fernando Alonso, it is unlikely that he would be interested in anyone other than Fernando Alonso in his old racing days. And there is no one to be seen growing up as a political driver.

Every driver has his or her own issues... Maybe some drivers are still too young. But the climate issue will also come to the fore with them. Even if they don't want to.

After leaving Haas a year ago, Mick Schumacher is without a cockpit in Formula 1. Various driver's seats have become vacant in the past few weeks, but no team boss has thought of Schumacher. How do you explain that his services are not in greater demand?

It would be a shame for the sport if it lost Mick. We talked about the fact that in some cars you can't shine as a driver. And sometimes a driver and his car don't go together at all. Mick has had a difficult year, but has set his highlights and accents. As high as you sometimes fly in Formula 1, you can quickly fall again. Basically, you are never as good as people say you are. But you're never as bad as people say you are. Of course, I wish that Mick stays in Formula 1, because that would be very, very important for Germany's motorsport scene .

Nevertheless: You won your first race in the defeated Toro Rosso. Michael Schumacher amazed the world in a Jordan. How do you recognize a talent? And how do you recognize when a talent isn't that great after all?

It's a difficult subject for me: I know Mick better than most drivers and have known for a very long time. He has a lot of potential. Although he may not be the type to get in the car and run into everyone like some people are. Mick is someone who can always improve. This is his gift. But will it then come to the point where he regularly wins and competes for the title? I don't know that. Mick is still too young for such an assessment. I can only hope he gets the time to find out.

#Sebastian Vettel #F1 #Seb telling F1 to put its money where its mouth is #Seb telling F1 to open the books and prove it #Also if anybody tries to use this as an excuse to be Islamophobic I will personally come and kick you 👍#Tw: homophobia

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42bakery · 2 months

Note

good morning waru! looking forward to your dani posts today <3 i also have a question ive been meaning to ask u, and maybe now is a good time since youre watching a bunch of dani stuff- do you know the source of dani being sensitive around food/a picky eater (not a description i like but for a lack of a better word)?

Hi Dante 👋👋👋

I'm glad people are liking the post and to be able to share them. Today there's a couple of interesting ones as they do talk a lot of the 15cc period, but I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow's photos.

I actually think it comes from a YouTube interview I saw long ago, but I can't say which one. The other option is Dani saying it himself during the Legend ceremony. i do remember that Jorge joked if Dani will gaining weight after retiring, but Dani said he actually had a diet to ensure he gained weight when he was actively competing, and then he mentioned it. Or maybe he mentioned it in 12+1 títulos sobre la mesa, which is the next one in my list when I finish with Cuatro Tiempos. I do know that in here is mentioned that Dani is celiac or at least he sometimes ets special foods due to issues.

Even if I can't give the exact source, in Dani Pedrosa, elegido para ganar can be see. There's this scene in the plane where they are in the plain that will take them to Japan and Dani is pulling faces while eating the plane's food. @fyeahdanipedrosa gifted that moment for us

#Ask #Dante's Tag #MotoGP #Food #tw food

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everybodyisasebfan · 2 years

Video

Sebastian Vettel on retirement, Mick Schumacher’s future in f1 and being sore after Champions for Charity. x

Translation below the cut

Peter: Today was the first stop on your farewell tour.

Seb: I hate that word but okay.

Peter: That's kind of what it is though.

Seb: I don't think so. I’ll finish the season and then I'll continue, not with more races but something else will happen. That's why I don't see it as a farewell tour, but yes I will be - will be gone.

Peter: Have you had time to think about what happens next during the summer break?

Seb: Yes, I mean, it wasn't a spontaneous decision. I didn't say oh time to do something else now. I do have a few things planned, but I'll just have to wait and see what happens. Timo still drives, so at some point he’ll face the same challenge, at some point we all do, we don't know anything else, have never done anything else in our lives. We have a set rhythm during a season, it starts in the winter with testing, then the season goes on until - I don't know - October, November, December depending on which series, and then the next year again. So I’m looking forward to the races to come and then doing nothing at first, taking some time. But I'm too young, and not the kind of person either, to sit around and do nothing at all so…

Timo: We’ll watch the first race together and have a beer.

Peter: Well, I have to say you're in a good position (to do what he wants after he retires). By the way, Timo sent his application to McLaren, Andreas Seidl asked him to. If that works out we have an open position, you’re very welcome -

Seb: I don't know, I think I still have - I think it's a very difficult role, Timo does a good job, others not so much.

Peter: You don't mean Ralf (Schumacher)?

Seb: No! No, no I mean, (Peter: They both do a good job.) generally I think - Timo and I we’re both from the same area and where we’re from you say dumm gebabbelt is glei (means something like anyone can talk nonsense - thanks to @grussell63 for the help!) So I think for some it's hard, but I understand, you're not in the car so it's easy to judge from the outside, and of course you have to say something when you stand here (in front of the cameras).

Timo: When the red light is on, you have to say something.

Seb: Yes, exactly.

Peter: Now that we've got you're here with us we’d like to know your opinion on other things. Mick Schumacher is very important to us, we support him, he does a good job. What do you think about his future?

Seb: I wish him a bit more drive for the next races. Unfortunately, these days you're judged only on your last results. I believe Mick is someone that continuously keeps learning and even at a point where others stop learning he doesn't, that's his strength. He also has the pace. He may not have had the start that he wished for but he managed to gain some momentum. We have to be honest, the car is no longer as good now as it was at the beginning of the season, it wont put you in P5 or P6 at this point, so it's hard to draw attention, but he does his thing in the background. I hope he stays and gets a good car so he can prove himself. Maybe he can send his application to McLaren as well and Timo can get in line behind him.

Timo: I’ll withdraw mine!

Peter: Timo will withdraw his, for Mick definitely. Sebastian, lastly, there was a football match on Wednesday, Champions for Charity, we talked to Mick on Thursday and he said he felt sore, how did you feel coming into this weekend?

Seb: My legs were a bit sore but thank god we don't have to do sprints in the car. But yes, we had fun, it was different to what we usually train for, which is more of a steady run, not sprinting. I tried to use that as an advantage and ended up running a lot but I had fun.

Peter: Thanks for the interview and congratulations on P8!

#translation is here!#took me a while but there it is #if anyone sees any mistakes come yell at me and i'll fix it #this is not the entire video btw #that was just too long to translate #sebastian vettel #belgian gp 2022

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allfandoms-writings · 1 year

Text

― 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐕𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌: 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄

summary: Takemichi is trying to reform the second generation of Toman to call a battle against the Kanto Manji Gang. though he knows a measly 50-member gang won’t get them far, so he goes to some old allies to ask for their help in the final battle with Mikey.

warnings: manga spoilers, POV jumpy, ANGST, death

word count: 13K

parts: one | epilogue

It almost felt nostalgic to the pair to be up in the trees at Musashi Shrine. To be looking down and listening to the meeting of the gang all over again, even when they’re in their twenties, and definitely should be off doing better things than overseeing a Gang meeting. To see most of the old members of the gang to be back in the shrine for the meeting had something form within the woman.

The brunette holds onto the trunk of the tree as she carefully leans closer to get a better understanding of what was being said. Her blue eyes squint as she watches the leader of the gang talk, hoping that reading his lips as well as listening will do them justice. But when she looks off to her partner, her eyebrows furrow a bit and get bit with slight annoyance.

The raven-haired woman in the same tree as her on the other side on a higher branch, her sharp amber eyes glowing in absolute mischief and a wide smile on her lips. As if they were teenagers again, the mere mention of a battle always pumped her veins with adrenaline and made the gears in her head move faster than they should. It should be a crime how this same girl became a COO of a fashion company and the heir of her father’s organization.

“I’m still surprised you didn’t have Hanma tag along with us,” Yeong-Ja comments quietly before adjusting her crouching position on the tree to sit on the branch. She leans slightly forward to look at her best friend, “Do we still have a ‘ No Boys Allowed ’ rule?” She softly laughs.

Akito shakes her head, “I left him to deal with the interviews with the tabloids and spread the word that Twin Dragons is on indefinite hiatus.” She answers with a chuckle at the memory of seeing her tall and lanky assistant throw himself at his desk. “He is my assistant, Yun-Yun, he’ll have to listen to my every order.”

“What about when we go into the battle?” Yeong-Ja asks. Thinking about the option, having Hanma on Kenjaku’s side will help them out greatly since no one will expect him to be a part of them.

“He’s our decoy for the grand entrance!” Akito grins and stands up on the branch, holding out an arm with the other still keeping a hold on the tree. “He’ll appear alongside Toman, appearing to be one of their members. When Kanto Manji comes in, that will be our cue to separate all the captains.”

“And what would be our roles?” Yeong-Ja asks, looking back down at the meeting in hopes they have a plan before going in. “From what I heard from Mei-Mei, Sanzu is Mikey’s second in command. Such a drastic change from Draken.”

“Mikey knew Draken was planning to retire in the end from delinquency. When he formed Kanto Manji, he didn’t bother to consult any member of Toman besides Sanzu who already had his loyalties to him.” Akito’s voice falls flat as if to quickly conclude what she and Yeong-Ja do. Pushing her own desires aside, she keeps her head leveled and focused. “Takemichi is too ambitious to take on Mikey by himself. He will die if he does so; Sanzu will make sure of that too. When needed, we’d be the ones to take on Mikey and Sanzu.”

“I’m also worried about the others,” Yeong-Ja admits and looks over at Akito with a sheepish gaze. “The Haitani brothers are their special attack units, Madarame is their commanding officer, the defense unit is Kakucho, and the commando unit is Wakasa. With who we have as for Toman right now, I can only see a handful maybe being able to power through.”

Akito sighs in frustration with her face scrunching a bit. “Dammit, Yun-Yun. You do keep me soft and I hate it.” She exclaims, crossing her arms and leaning on the trunk of the tree.

She waits for Akito’s grumbling to end with an almost puzzled stare. Yeong-Ja knows a couple of plans that could happen: One is Akito and her take on Sanzu and tag-team him to lessen the chance of Toman getting slaughtered, and another would be Akito just goes in and utilizes what she knows from being trained by her father to silently kill someone. That someone being Mikey would end everything rather quickly. But the main goal is to bring Mikey out of the darkness of his mind, not kill him in cold blood.

Times like this, Yeong-Ja wished that she and Draken switched bodies for a bit to bring down Akito’s impulsiveness in the same way he did for Mikey. Or in this case, bring Mikey down in general.

“Given that Takemichi wants to bring back Mikey to Toman, we can’t attack him as we usually do for our own endeavors. My method of persuasion only works on people who are willing to listen.” Akito finally answers with a war going on in her eyes. She leans over to look at Yeong-Ja but is meant with a quirked eyebrow. “When has Mikey ever listened to anyone genuinely that wasn’t his brother, Baji, and/or Draken? He didn’t even listen to Emma anymore and kicked her out of the house. What makes you think he’s going to listen to me?”

“Hanma listens to you. Kisaki did too.” Yeong-Ja replies bluntly with a slow blink of her eyes. “Mr. Nakamura listened when you needed aid without your father knowing. Miss Han did. Even poor Yuki, Tachibana, and Hisagi listened to you. What makes Mikey any different?”

“Hanma is pussywhooped, Kisaki was an idiot, Mr. Nakamura only did because I knew he was in a sex club, and Miss Han was willing because she was in denial that her daughter didn’t whore herself out. Yuki was a sad girl that got hooked up on meth, Tachibana wanted her best friend back, and Hisagi wanted to date me so bad.” Akito breaks down each difficult person she ever had manipulated in her time of being a member of Kenjaku behind her father’s back. Each person’s story gets worse by the second. “They’re in their weakest states or too high in their heads that they listen to anything that comes out of my mouth… Or my body. Mikey isn’t weak— He’s lost in his own head that he won’t listen to anyone unless it’s shit he wants to hear. I doubt if I tried seducing him now, Takashi will definitely divorce me and Shuji would do what he could to get himself killed by Papa.”

There are a few heavy moments of silence between the two women. Yeong-Ja stares at Akito to process the doubt in her voice when thinking about Mikey and his mentality. She did have a point and she hated to agree to it. Mikey is a hard nut to crack that he even pushed Draken away when he got too close.

But everyone in Kenjaku and Toman knows that Akito is the queen of manipulation. They’ve seen her destroy relationships, break down people to suicide, and even vanish from existence. They know how smart and scary Akito truly is, but there is still a human girl underneath that monstrous facade she holds. A child deep inside that seems to struggle with what is the best decision for everyone.

“So,” Yeong-Ja’s voice attracts Akito’s attention, to see the brunette jut out her scarred lips. “How are you gonna go about confronting Mitsuya?”

As if it was a switch, Akito slumps her shoulders and groans. “I still don’t know…” Her voice is small and even nervous. “I don’t want him to be mad at me forever. It sucks trying to share a bed with Shuji when the nightmares come.”

Yeong-Ja sighs, “Apologies are always nice, Akito.” She responds passively with a meek smile. “Even when you’re trying to use another man as a security blanket that doesn’t keep you warm anymore.”

“I know.” Akito hangs her head in defeat.

****

Two weeks later, both Tomans enter the old cargo bay for their final battle. Kanto Manji to the left and Tokyo Manji to the right, just by a mere glance, Tokyo Manji is outnumbered easily. Five hundred to fifty is a hefty battle, even though Toman does have powerhouses like Baji, Mitsuya, and Senju. It made the scattered girls of Kenjaku giggle to themselves as they watch in their positions.

The talk before the fight always annoyed the ones ready to fight with a plan in mind.

As Takemichi and the other captains of Toman assessed their opponents, Akito holds back Hanma from approaching the gangs. With a slight change of plans, she thought it’d be more fun to watch members of Toman stare at Hanma in shock when he appears. According to Mei-Mei’s intel, no one in Kanto Manji knew about Hanma’s appearance resurfacing. So this should be a real treat for Tokyo Manji to have Hanma join their side.

Akito leans in close to Hanma’s ear with her hands on his shoulders from behind him. “Remember Shuji, if you can pull this off, I’ll give you a reward~!” She sings in his ear with a sugary sweet tone and smile. “If you do extra good, I’ll even get Gogo fixed up too for you!”

“You spoil me too much, Princess.” He chuckles lowly at the promise, the blood in his veins is already pumping for being a part of this battle. “You truly are evil~♡”

“Only for my best shield.” She smiles, giving his cheek a quick peck before pulling away from him. “Give ‘em hell, Shu.”

The moment she releases him from her hold is the moment Hanma comes out from around the cargo container he was in with her. He can’t help but smile wickedly at the sight of the mere size difference between the gangs. It’s been a while since he was able to beat the living shit out of anyone— He’s been stuck doing nothing but paperwork and standing pretty at Akito’s side since he’s been back.

But now she’s releasing him to the wolves to eat them alive and tear them apart.

While Sanzu was rallying up Kanto Manji to get them hyped for the battle and belittling Tokyo Manji in the process, Hanma walks towards the two gangs. Before Kanto Manji could laugh with Sanzu, Hanma’s infamous laugh echoes and pulls both sides' attention to him as he makes his way to the center.

“Damn, what the hell happened while I was gone?” Hanma muses himself with shocked expressions from either side, smiling widely as he walks between the train tracks that separate the two gangs. “Mikey and Hanagaki are duking it out? I’m fucking weak~!”

Sanzu’s scarred mouth babbles in disbelief to see Hanma back from the dead standing before them. He’s dressed in a long black coat that has scarlet characters embroidered on the back of the jacket, gold designs of two ropes going down the sleeves of the jacket, and a single design of a golden noose on the back of the jacket. His hair is different since the last time anyone saw him; he retains his blond-streaked hair and signature earring but keeps his hair more relaxed and tousled in comparison.

“Aw hey Hanma, we thought you were dead!” Sanzu finally is able to spit out with mirth in his voice. He takes a glance back at Mikey before waving Hanma over, “It’s ‘bout time you came back!”

“I tried living low for a while,” Hanma grins to the bubblegum pink-haired male, “I hated it. Life got boring f’ me. I heard this battle was gonna go down and wanted to check it out.”

Takemichi grows anxious in his spot watching how casually Hanma is talking to Sanzu as if they were friends before. He didn’t even know they ever associated with each other, but now this is worrying him. After the meeting with Akito, did Hanma go behind her back to butt in with Mikey’s team? If that is the case, Toman literally has no room for a win if Hanma is joining them. But there was something strange about seeing the designs for the jacket.

Mitsuya’s eyes squinted at the jacket that Hanma wore, making his lips form into a tight frown at the design. Ever since Hanma came back into Akito’s life, he’s been glued to her side unless she states otherwise. It didn’t make sense for him to show up to a gang battle that no one but Kanto and Tokyo Manji knew of. He’s sure Akito doesn’t know about it if Takemichi told him she declined the offer to handle the mess that Twin Dragons is in.

But wait—Something was off about the jacket itself yet sounded familiar to him. Why a noose of all designs? He knows that back when they were kids, Hanma was known to be Kabukicho’s Reaper —so death is a theme there. But why the noose? Shouldn’t be the designs of clashing scythes or even a basic death?

Mitsuya’s eyes then widened realizing the design, something he remembers back in high school.

“Hanma, join Toman, why dontcha?” Sanzu holds open his arms for his former teammate from Tenjiku. “You get to do whatever you want as long Mikey allows it! Endless fights and we grow stronger!”

Hanma titters at the appeal of the offer, internally, he wants to punch him in the face right then and there. He wasn’t a lower-ranked member of a gang anymore, nor working as Kisaki’s partner to take down Takemichi for his own gain. Maybe working with the Yakuza matured him a bit in that life isn’t all about just gaining power to be feared.

Shit, Akito fucking made him soft to some extent.

“Nah, man,” Hanma declines casually with his infamous unwavering grin. Seeing the looks of confusion from Kanto Manji.

“Why not?” Mikey speaks up for the first time, looking at Hanma for a moment as an equal. “You’ll never be bored and still have a life to chase.”

Hanma waits a few moments before speaking, adding his own dramatic effect.

“I still want to beat the living shit out of you, Mikey♡”

He then turns to Tokyo Manji and holds out his hand to them, “Fighting these babies will be too easy~! I gotta make things exciting for myself.” He sneers in pure spite before moving closer to Tokyo Manji.

“Tch— What a fucking waste.” Mikey sneers in annoyance and looks down at the man as if he was shit under his boot.

A sense of relief washes over Tokyo Manji hearing that Hanma will join them in the fight, but there is still that sense of untrust. Kisaki is dead, that is a fact. So why— Why is Hanma joining them if he had no one else to follow along with their plans to keep him entertained? He doesn’t even share the same ideals as them; he’s just a pure embodiment of death. He’s always chasing his highs, Toman should be boring for him.

“Today, we will defeat Kanto Manji and succeed to the Tokyo Manji name! Come and kill us if you can, Kanto Manji Gang!” Takemichi shouts out at the top of his lungs, ready for this war to break out. Fiery determination in his blue eyes, “No matter what happens, we will never give in! We will defeat you no matter what!”

Each side takes their stance, getting ready to charge at the other to start the brawl. Takemichi is ready to lead Tokyo Manji as Mikey is already in lead of Kanto Manji. There’s something about this brawl that would make an outsider’s skin crawl.

At the call to fight, everyone charges in at each other. Mikey doesn’t move from his spot, commentating how sad that a weakling like Takemichi thinks he could lead a suicide attack. He doubts that Takemichi could continue to lead Toman if all he ever does is fail and can barely fight for himself. Deeming a gang’s downfall is when the leader is down and out of commission.

Before Takemichi could reach Mikey, Kakucho is the first person to strike a punch at him. Running ahead of him, both Chifuyu and Inui look back in shock to see that their leader was the first to get knocked by Kakucho. To everyone’s surprise, Takemichi doesn’t go down easily.

For once in anyone’s time knowing Takemichi, he’s fighting back without crying about it. He swings back his fight to land a hard punch to Kakucho’s cheek to have him get thrown back. Knocking him down all the way to Mikey’s feet and disbelief. Causing an uproar from both his own gang and Kanto Manji’s in the lack of belief that he was able to pull off knocking down someone as strong as Kakucho.

“Hehe, Toman’s crybaby finally gained some muscle.” Kariya giggles from her post up on top of a metal crane, watching down on the fight with stars in her eyes. She turns to her vice-commander, “Maybe we won’t have to clean up his body in the end, Mayumi.”

“He’d be less of a pain to keep an eye on,” Mayumi groans in annoyance as she looks through the binoculars to keep an eye on Hanma’s movements. “But now our new pain is releasing stupid ass Hanma. Fuckin’ Akito is batshit to think releasing Hanma like that was totally okay!”

“Well, he will do some damage we won’t have to deal with.” Kariya sighs and watches the fight and how some members of Toman admire Takemichi’s pure growth. “I wonder how Akito is handling Hakkai being back-to-back with Mitsuya. Ever since their split, she’s been calling Hakkai a ‘faggot’ anytime she talks about him.”

“He was ballsy to try to object to their wedding because he doesn’t approve of Akito,” Mayumi nods her head to the side thinking about the Livestream of Akito’s wedding to see the raw exchange between the two rivals. “I’m surprised she didn’t rip his head off at the reception.”

Kariya giggles at the memory of being there at the wedding before gazing down at the fight again. She wonders when will the signal come. Hanma isn’t the best person to use for a signal when he flails around like a monkey when he’s fighting. Or when he makes his weird noises that make Akito all giddy like a schoolgirl.

It’s still kind of hard for Kariya to believe that Akito still chose Hanma over Mitsuya after everything. At best, Hanma is just a body shield for her.

Watching the fight from a slanted shipping container, Namie leans on her bike while idly playing with a yo-yo. Bored out of her wits to watch on a fight they’re ordered to take part in but have to wait for a damn signal from their leader’s lap dog. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Akito has a few screws loose for Hanma and will do anything for him, but all the girls knew leaving him for a fucking signal was a mistake.

She should be back at home catching up on Criminal Minds while studying for her engineering class. But no, here she is in an old cargo bay for a stupid gang fight that she hasn’t indulged in. She hates how stupidly loyal she is to Kira Akito.

“Gogo, how are things between you and Hanma?” Namie asks, her eyes moving from the fight to her raven-haired captain who sits on the edge of the container with her cobalt eyes fixed down on the fight.

Her eyes shift to look up at her lieutenant with an empty stare. “We haven’t talked since the incident. No calls, no secret meetings, no private emails.” She answers softly and passively.

“Does it still hurt?” Namie asks, tilting her head to the side slightly. Her forest green hair which is tied into looped pigtails moves as she does.

“Yes. It does,” Gogo answers with a slight frown, but a soft snort leaves her at the thought. “But I see why Akito-Sama doesn’t want to let him go. He’s way stacked.”

Namie covers her mouth to hide her laugh, looking away from her captain who she still keeps in touch with. It still baffles her how crazy loyal Gogo still is to Akito even after the incident with Hanma. But now the gang has a second eye-witness of what could be the cause of Akito’s insane obsession with Hanma.

Albeit it, Namie does wishes that Gogo could at the least fight back against Akito. Their head captain is married to another man yet acts as if her assistant is also still her partner. But no one dares to defy Akito’s order, they’re all too scared to face the consequences. She still remembers when she discovered a rat within their gang and broke both an arm and a leg for their betrayal, and that was Akito showing mercy. What happened to Gogo is the most recent example of not touching what belongs to Akito.

If it wasn’t for Gogo, Kanjaku would be reduced to ashes if she didn’t remain as their acting commander.

“Mikey’s grown borning,” Akito comments peeking over the door of the cargo container she and Yeong-Ja wait in with several other girls, all still gearing up for the battle. Her amber eyes squint at the sight of Mikey just sitting on top of a container and spectating the battle. “He agrees to a battle but sits on his high horse watching everything go down. What happened to his thrill to fight?”

“Maybe he didn’t want a battle but just agreed because it’s Takemitchy that wanted it,” Yeong-Ja responds while wrapping up her hands, she looks off to her captain to see her wiggling her hips a bit while peeking outside. “What are you doing?”

“Ehehe~ I see my old boyfriend~!” Akito sings with twisted delight, watching only glimpses of the male as subordinates block her view from the fighting. “Maybe I’ll say a quick ‘hi’ while ripping out someone’s eyeball!”

Yeong-Ja sighs and shakes her head, looking back at her bandage work. “Akito, are you going to try to trap him within the Yakuza too as you did to Hanma? I don’t think Mitsuya would be very happy about it.”

The raven-haired woman waves her hand back at the brunette, “Don’t worry, Yun-Yun. Papa wouldn’t like it either if I did. He crossed boundary lines with Kira so he’s basically blacklisted from us.” She states with a grin but her voice falls grim and pitchy. Her painted nails move up to her lips as she giggles, “And by the way, he’s pretty weak .”

Akito’s eyes then fixate on Mitsuya in the crowd, watching him charge toward Mikey with rage in his eyes. She smiles and leans more on the metal door, letting out a dreamy sigh, and her hand holding the door grips harder. As if no one else mattered in the world to her, Akito’s heart cries out for Mitsuya despite the twisted love swirling in her eyes.

Just before Akito could fall more in love with the sight of her husband, a few loud bangs came from the top of the container. The loud clanking echoed throughout the shipping container as well as distant metallic dinks from other shipping containers. That was their cue to make their moves into the fight, meaning that the main captains of Toman were getting dominated by the opposing gang’s captains.

Chifuyu breathes heavily as he forces himself back onto his feet. He glares back up at Mochizuki looking down at him with a wicked grin. Chifuyu spits out blood from his mouth before standing back up. He quickly glances to the side to see that Akkun had already engaged Madarame in a fight, though nothing is looking too good for them.

Senju, Baji, and Hanma are their main powerhouses taking out more members than anyone should handle alone. Even Inui is having his work cut out, but changes directions to go after Kokonoi. Mitsuya had run ahead to get a start at Mikey but is stopped by the Haitani brothers, making it another deadly fight.

There’s a sliver of doubt starting to form in Chifuyu as he threw punches at Mochi and blocked as many hits as he could. But even then, Kanto Manji fights dirty and with how Mikey doesn’t care about fair fights at the moment, Toman might get taken down.

The sound of females screaming and cackling fills the air over the sound of motorbikes coming through.

Fights momentarily cease with confused faces looking around to see dark glimpses of shadows. Though, there is an eerie familiarity with the cackles and dark shadows moving around them. As suddenly they appeared, and members of Kanto Manji start getting taken out with each quick pass of a fleeting shadow and glow of a bike’s brake light.

Momentarily, Hanma turns from knocking out another gang member in the jaw. He lets out a giggle as he stands back straight, wiping blood from his face as girls start to run into the battlefield to engage in the fight. There’s something nostalgic about seeing girls swing around bladed yo-yos, swinging baseball bats, and just slugging guys in the face.

As girls join in the battle, Mitsuya was getting tagged-teamed by the infamous Haitani Brothers. Rindou and Ran shove Mitsuya back to each other with each swing of a fist or a harsh kick to him. Mitsuya does what he can to fight against the brothers, though together, they fight dirtier and stronger. He can’t help but look behind him as if anticipating someone to show up and help him.

He starts to think back that maybe, he should’ve taken up the opportunities to keep himself active in Akito’s family dojo. She always encouraged him to join her for a few sparring sessions and that it’d help with his stress from the company. But being stubborn, he didn’t and now he regrets that he didn’t. He’s rusty and hates to admit that he isn’t at his peak like he should be.

Rindou punches the back of Mitsuya’s head, pushing back to his brother to take another hit at him. Mitsuya is quick to find his footing before another hit can come from the older Haitani, yet before Ran could land another punch, he’s slammed down to the ground.

Standing over Ran with a fist to his head, Hakkai looks up at Mitsuya with a teasing glint in his blue eyes. “You good, Taka-Chan?” He asks with a slight smirk as he gets off of Ran and makes his way over to his captain. “Sure you haven’t grown dull from making all those clothes?”

Mitsuya chuckles breathily, “You’re damn late, Hakkai.” He bitterly comments as he stands up straight and wipes off the blood from his busted lip.

“Can I hear a “Help Me” from Taka-Chan?” Hakkai teases further as he pops his knuckles and stands by Mitsuya’s side, both of them facing the Haitani brothers.

“Hell no, dumbass!” Mitsuya shoots back and turns to face the brothers.

Ran is now standing by his younger brother’s side, rubbing the back of his neck with a mixture of nonchalance and muted shock. Rindou glares at the boys before facing them with a sneer. Now they have an equal fight with two tall ones and two shorter ones, the brothers didn’t like that all too much.

Mitsuya can’t help himself but stare at the two with a little bit of starstruck in his eyes. Remembering back when he was thirteen and took his sisters to a festival in Roppongi. He remembers how the crowd parted when a group of rowdy-looking boys, and leading the pack were “Roppongi’s Charisma” The Haitani Brothers. Remembering thinking as a kid how cool they were in their fashion sense and the way they held themselves.

“I looked up to these guys some time ago, y’know?” Mitsuya says to Hakkai with a soft chuckle in his words.

“Eh? No way!” Hakkai gasps in disbelief, looking down at his best friend with widen eyes.

“They’re the type of delinquents who are urban and stylish,” Mitsuya adds with genuine sincerity in his words, making the brothers smile.

Ran leans down slightly and starts to swirl his baton around one of his braided pigtails with amusement in his eyes. Though they weren’t showing any kind of mercy. He grins and lets out a low laugh.

“Let me guess!” His violet eyes move between Mitsuya and Hakkai with calculated amusement. “You guys will die in about five minutes!”

“I’d like to see you try, assholes!” Hakkai snaps back countering Mitsuya’s clear confusion in his eyes. He then starts charging toward Rindou, retracting back his fist. “Acting all cool like that is pissing me off!”

Hakkai goes to swing at the younger Haitani but he dodges the punch with ease and turns on his foot to start running off. Ran is fast to follow beside his brother, catching on to what the plan was, and looks back with a grin.

“Idiot!” Rindou laughs as he runs and looks back to Hakkai and Mitsuya, “As if you’d land a hit with a swing like that!”

“What’s wrong? Come and get us, you dim-wit!” Ran laughs after his brother, taunting the pair, but only one takes the bait.

Hakkai growls in frustration with his hands balled into fists, “These shitheads! I’ll fucking kill you!” He shouts as he starts sprinting after them, hellbent to beat one of them.

“Hakkai, wait!” Mitsuya calls out before chasing after them. In times like this, he genuinely hates how impulsive Hakkai is and doesn’t think of their motives.

By the time Mitsuya finds Hakkai in the center of some cargo containers, he finds Hakkai barely conscious. Running up to the blue-haired male, he kneels down beside him, shaking his back to try to get him up. He asks if he is okay but then the sounds of footsteps come from behind him.

He looks behind him and lets out a growl at the number of gang members of Kanto Manji. He should’ve known the Haitanis would plan an ambush, they fight dirty. Always have and always will fight unfairly, and that is what makes them so powerful.

Standing at the top of the cargo shipping container, Ran looks down at the crowding members dressed in black while surrounding the two Tokyo Manji members. There’s a slight disappointment in his eyes, already concluding this fight was a waste. Rindou sits next to his brother, partially looking down and still breathing heavily from climbing up the metal container.

“Okay, game over~” Ran sighs and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his gang uniform. “This didn’t even take 5 minutes, what a waste.”

Mitsuya turns and looks up at the brothers with a spiteful smirk. “Then that was an awful prediction.”

Before any more snide remarks could be thrown between Mitsuya and the Haitani brothers, the gang members of Kanto Manji began attacking Mitsuya. He’s fast to get back into gear for the fight, taking out as many gang members as he’s able to. Trying to end the one-on-thirty battle, he progressively grows more frustrated and overwhelmed by how it’s just him defending himself and Hakkai who lies unconscious on the ground.

“How long are you gonna sleep, Hakkai?! Wake the fuck up!” Mitsuya shouts angrily, dodging a punch from one guy while he kicks the stomach of another.

Rindou laughs from his spot with a devious grin, “He got his head smacked in a surprise attack.” He chuckles darkly, “Ain’t no way he’s waking up that easily!”

While watching the fight below them, Ran’s eyes shift to Hakkai on the ground. There’s a muted look of surprise in his eyes watching the male quickly hop up to his feet, groaning and quickly stretching as he gets up. There’s quick banter between the two Tokyo Manji members, making his lips turn downwards and Rindou gasping in pure shock.

Mitsuya knocks out another gang member before looking up at the brothers with a sly grin, “Let's see… It’s been about five minutes, you phonies.” He shouts up to them with spite and challenge in his voice. Finding amusement in the visible agitation forming on Ran’s face.

Chuckling darkly, he points downwards with a snarky grin. “Come down here,” Mitsuya adds as Hakkai joins him by his side. “It’s my turn to make a prediction.”

Ran and Rindou glared down at the two, finding it irritating how sure they were of themselves. Watching Mitsuya crack his knuckles and Hakkai chuckling like a buffoon next to him as if to look down at his superiors. It made them want to bash their skulls in even more.

The brothers jump down from the top of the shipping container with ease. They stare down at the Tokyo Manji members as if they already had a plan of attack for them once again.

“We’ll get this done in five minutes,” Mitsuya states with determination in his eyes, having trust in his partner to hold up his own this time around. “Hakkai, let’s show ‘em our combination is better than those two siblings!”

But there’s a moment of no response from Hakkai, to which Mitsuya turns to look up at him. Hakkai looks focused staring at the brothers, his lips press together and his fists clench a bit tighter.

“Taka-Chan, wanna hear my plan?” Hakkai asks not expecting a response from his captain.

But that plan is never heard as a loud rev of a motorcycle grows closer to them. A roar of a chopping engine comes closer followed by a distant female’s cackling and screeching. Before any of the boys could realize what is going on, Hakkai charges at Rindou and grabs him while running off. Ran moves to go after his brother but a black bike with a blur of brunette whizzes past them.

The female smiles wickedly and holds out her baseball bat. “Ready to have some fun, boys?” She screams out with pure insanity in her voice, rearing back her bat and accelerating her speed on the bike.

In no time, the bat slams against Hakkai’s back. Before he could fall forward, the driver sharply turns and drifts to a stop to catch Hakkai and Rindou. Hakkai falls onto the side of her bike and she grabs Rindou by his bun.

Lifting her head with a wicked grin, she looks at the two other males with a crazed stare. Yeong-Ja “Yoona” Kim is the driver of the motorcycle, her blue eyes seem to glow in her devilish act. From the college student and her head captain’s vice, this look of her reveals what’s been sleeping inside her. She’s still the rogue brawler she was in high school, but now she is more dangerous.

Mitsuya makes eye contact with the brunette Korean girl, giving her a nod in acknowledgment. Yeong-Ja cranes her head back a bit before raising her bat towards them.

“Watch your backs before they get blown out!” She warns them in the same tone before revving her bike again and riding off with the two. Rindou screams out in pain as he gets dragged off by the woman with Hakkai laying over the backseat of her bike.

Mitsuya blinks his eyes a couple of times in confusion, scratching his head and trying to understand what the hell she meant. He didn’t even know Yeong-Ja was part of the battle, but what on Earth— Who’s side was she on if she took off with both Hakkai and Rindou?

“What on Earth…?” Mitsuya mutters to himself seeing the hue of red fade out before looking back to Ran. He shrugs his shoulders, “Oh well~”

Before Ran could react, Mitsuya is fast to land a clean punch on his stomach. The taller male doubles over and coughs up a mix of blood and bile. He falls to the ground, Mitsuya rolls his shoulder and shakes out his hand. There’s a slight sting in his fist, figuring that for once, he didn’t land a punch right and internally curses at himself.

The lavender-haired male looks down at the older Haitani, “Stand up, Haitani Ran,” He demands with his voice dropping from the lighter tone he held earlier. “Show me how you fight 1 vs 1.”

Ran forces himself onto his feet, glaring at the male before him, and lets out a curt, breathy laugh. “Can’t wait to fucking crack your skull open, you fucking pest.”

Taking out his baton, he jerks his wrist to pop up the baton. He plants his feet on the ground with a deadly gleam in his violet eyes. Pinpointing every weak spot on the human body, he chuckles lowly as he lunges at Mitsuya. Swinging back his baton, ready to land a hit and make sure he stays down.

Mitsuya is quick to dodge the metal baton, pivoting on his feet, he throws a punch. Ran is fast to block that hit, he kicks out his foot and slams his leg into Mitsuya’s side. The lavender-haired male goes flying back into the side of the cargo shipping container, slamming his shoulder into one of the bulging rivets of the box. His eyes are quick to catch the movement of the baton, quickly shifting out of the way to hear the loud clank of metal hitting against metal.

Ran starts to laugh upon seeing the anger and a hint of fear start to form in Mitsuya’s eyes. He steps closer to him as he swings his baton down at him, aiming for his kneecaps to keep him down on the ground. But Mitsuya moves too fast, and even slams his foot against Ran’s chest at an opening.

But the time of not keeping himself in the loop, Mitsuya’s stamina starts to teeter. Ran’s baton slams into his shoulder, and then he strikes it at Mitsuya’s ribs which causes him to recoil back in pain. Mitsuya can feel something is broken but chooses to ignore it, ignoring his pain is the only thing that will keep him going. He can’t just stop to run, he needs to win this fight. But fuck, everything is starting to hurt.

“Hai—ta—ni- Kun~!”

At the sound of the female’s voice singing out his name, Ran freezes in his spot holding up his baton, ready to strike at Mitsuya’s jaw. A female’s giggles and humming fill the muted sound of the other battles going on outside the isolated area they were in.

Mitsuya’s eyes stay on Ran, seeing his violet eyes turn almost fearful at the sound of the female’s voice. But he isn’t scared as the other male is. Mitsuya knows that voice and hum, he knows that tune she hums too well. Hesitating to look past Ran, he sees a pair of piercing amber eyes looking down at them with a twisted grin on her painted lips.

She sits at the edge of the shipping container with her legs crossed, one hand wrapped in a black chain while the other is tapping a finger on her cheek. Her face has blood splatters across it, but Mitsuya knows too well that isn’t her blood. Her hair is different this time; the last time he saw her, she still had her asymmetrical bob. Now it’s half-shaven leaving her longer side continuing to cover her right eye.

“Haitani-Kun, I know you can hear me~!” She sings out again in a sweeter tone, grinning more as the tall male carefully sets down his weapon and stiffly turns to face the woman.

“Akito…” Mitsuya breathes out in astonishment, blinking his eyes a few times in disbelief.

Akito’s eyes shift to Mitsuya and wave at him with her fingers. Her eyes then fall back onto Ran and lean slightly forward on the edge, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Ran?” She muses with squinted eyes.

Ran shakes his head, “What the hell are you doing here?” He sneers though the slight shake in his voice gives away the chill going down his spine.

She shrugs nonchalantly, “Oh, y’know. Doing what I do best and taking down people.” She smiles cheekily before hopping off the shipping container and landing on the ground with grace.

“How do you know each other?” Mitsuya blurts out, gaining both Ran’s and Akito’s attention.

“Ran was my first boyfriend,” Akito says smoothly with a smile, taking steps closer to Ran.

He moves away from her and shakes his head. “I just kissed you once! It never meant we were dating!” He snaps at her but still backs away as she moves closer to him.

“No, no, no. It was more than that kiss, Haitani-Kun,” She shakes her head, continuing her slow steps towards the male with a familiar sadistic yet obsessed look in her eyes. “Picking me up every day from school, walking me home, helping me with my homework, sweet talks, and special nicknames just for me~ Don’t you remember all that, Haitani-Kun ?”

Something is unsettling about the way Akito moves towards Ran and sees him backing away from her with fear in his eyes. Mitsuya knows that look to be similar to the same gaze she held for Hanma, but he never feared Akito. But the little information she lets out, makes him wonder if she has bad blood with him. Just by the way her hands are holding the chain of her meteor hammer and the subtle swing that moves with her.

“Your father hired me to be your babysitter! I wasn’t your fucking boyfriend!” Ran snaps back at her, furrowing his brows when his back hits the metal wall of a shipping container. “You’re a fucking lunatic! I pray for the poor soul who is willing to put up with your crazy ass, you fucking bitch!”

She tilts her head to the side and leans up to him. “Ooh~ That’s a loaded insult,” She coos mockingly with an evil giggle and brings a hand up to his face. “But who is the real bitch when you tried fucking over my father, Ran? Manipulating his daughter to try to get to the top of the Yakuza.”

He stares down at her and shakily breathes, hating how at the mere presence of her, he’s quaking. He’s Haitani fucking Ran, one of the pillars of Roppongi and the special attack force for Kanto Manji. How the hell is he shaking at the mere presence of Kira Akito when he hasn’t seen her since they were in middle school?

“Akito,” Mitsuya calls out to her in a demanding tone. To Ran’s surprise, she turns but her hand on his face moves to his neck and starts squeezing and digging her sharp nails into his flesh.

He sighs as he forces himself up to his feet, “What are you doing here?” He asks in a mixture of annoyance and yet relief.

“Saving my idiot husband’s ass.” She quips with a sweet smile before turning to slam Ran down to the ground and knocking the air out of him. She then stands over Ran with a darker giggle leaving past her lips.

“Husband?” Ran wheezes out, his eyes shifting between the woman standing over him and Mitsuya. “He pities you if he married your psychotic ass.”

At that, Akito slams down the metal spiked ball onto Ran’s chest and she lets out a sadistic cackle. Before Mitsuya could approach them, Ran is slamming his fist at the back of her knee. When she falls, he quickly flips their position and punches her in the face. Though to his shock, she knees him in the chest to throw him off of her. She sits up spitting out blood and swiping her thumb over her bleeding lip, a wheezing giggle leaving her.

"You punch like a bitch!" She laughs in his face, gets up to her feet, and begins to swing the ball and chain. "For someone who was Roppongi's top dog, I wonder if you still live up to that name."

Ran lowly laughs, holding his baton onto his shoulder and holding out a hand in defense. "Pretty dangerous weapon for a princess, dontcha think?"

"I know~ It's perfect for me~!" She then swings the metal ball of her war hammer at him.

Instead of trying to grab a hold of the chain, Ran flips his baton and holds it diagonally in front of him with his other hand holding the top. He deflects her attack, tossing the ball back to her which she swiftly shifts out of the way. He goes to strike her but she blocks his attacks with the chain of her weapon, pivoting with each strike he does.

At her advantage point, she leaps back and gains the momentum of her war hammer. Swinging it down to kick it at his chest, landing a hard hit on his sternum. She laughs maniacally in amusement, watching him fumble back as she brings back her weapon. Not wanting to lose her momentum, she keeps swinging and striking it at Ran. Laughing in amusement how he struggles to dodge her quick attacks and block the direct hits.

But to his luck, he dodges the spiked ball before it could slam into his head. He reaches up to grab the chain with his gloved hand. Akito's eyes widen in slight shock, making him smirk as he yanks her toward him. She lets go of the chain in his pull but uses the momentum to jump and kick his baton out of his hand.

He watches it fly over them and away from his reach along with her weapon. Before she could kick him again, he moves away from her and places a distance between them. They both breathe heavily, staring each other down.

"I thought you were a nice girl, Akito." Ran breathily chuckles, seeing that she's stronger than she looks.

"I'm that 'Fuck Up Your Life' girl." Akito retorts with a grin, flexing her fingers to pop her knuckles. "Daddy spoiled me rotten. His good apple turned poisonous."

Mitsuya watches them charge at each other again. As he's seen her do before, Akito is quick with her strikes and kicks. Using Ran's body to her full advantage, bending her leg back to kick him in the head when he tried restraining her. She swipes her other leg to trip him but he catches himself before he falls. Getting behind him, she doesn’t catch it when he grabs her arm and throws her over his shoulder.

Akito lets out a growl as her back hits the ground, grabbing his forearm to yank him down closer to her. She kicks his head but he blocks her kick and ducks down more causing her to wrap her leg around his neck and slam him back to the ground. Both of them roll and get back up to their feet, Ran goes to tackle her yet Akito slams her foot into his weak point.

He doubles over with a hand on his crotch, groaning in pain. She’s quick to wrap her arm around his neck, ramming her knee into his chest but he blocks her attack. Before she could aim for his stomach, he grabs her by the waist to throw her down but she keeps her grip on him, finding her ground and wrapping her legs around his hips to bring him down with her.

They both grab each other in a headlock and lay on the ground with her leg still wrapped around him. He goes to punch her in the face but her elbow blocks him, momentarily rendering him confused. She throws his arm away from her and punches him square in the face. Flipping to be on top, she straddles his waist and pries his arms away from his face. Before any more punches can come his way, he throws her off of him, putting distance between them again.

She laughs as she gets back up on her feet, spitting out blood, and rolls her shoulder. “Hai-ta-ni- Kun~!” She drawls out in a sing-song call, her eyes wide with a look of bloodlust in her eyes. “Let’s play a little bit more~!”

Before she could pull the knife out from her boot, Mitsuya’s keen eyes catches sight of the shine of her knife. He is quick to kick her hand to knock the knife out of her hand and away from any of them. Akito snaps her head to look at her husband with shock and knitted eyebrows. He grabs her by the arms and turns her to face him completely, ignoring the fact that Ran is teetering on his feet.

“Akito, get ahold of yourself!” Mitsuya snaps angrily, causing her to gasp and her eyes to widen. Since their fight, that was the first time he’s yelled at her. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

She yanks herself away from his grasp, biting back the whimper that wants to come out of her. “I’m trying to save my stupid ass husband.” She bites back with a low voice and eyebrows furrowing.

“I know that!” He takes a deep breath, trying to pace himself not to make her cry. She can hide her tears well from others, but he’s been with her long enough to know how her eyes bubble with tears. “You’re out for blood. You should be back at the company.”

Her hand moves to his chest, sliding down to his lower ribs before applying light pressure. He sucks in a sharp breath and his face twists in pain.

“He hurt you, Takashi.” She says lowly with a hurt yet guarded glare in her amber eyes. Her upper lip twitches with anger and her other hand clench into a fist. “I’ll kill anyone who dares to lay a hand on you.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He firmly states with a breath, looking down at her with worry in his eyes. “Have Hanma take you home.”

She shakes her head, “No. I’m not going home without you.”

“Akito, please.”

“I said no. I want to go home with you!”

They stare at each other with one hardened stare and the other one silently pleading. Mitsuya grabs her hand, in a way to persuade her to leave the fight, but she didn’t move nor look away from him. Tears bubble up in her eyes the longer she stares at him, for him to be so close to her and touching her makes her heart ache inside her chest. Her lips wobble from a straight line to a frown.

She wants to hit him so bad but she could never bring herself to do it. Even with his new silly shave job, she still wants to bury her nose in his hair and keep him all to herself. Yes, during their fight they both said some hurtful things but she regrets it all. She wants him back home, the place where he makes it feel like home. She misses waking up in the morning to the smell of coffee and having breakfast with him. She misses going to his office to have lunch with him, even being his dress-up doll. She misses hearing his voice, feeling his touch, and just having his presence with her.

“Please come home,” Akito’s voice falls into a mere whisper with tears rolling down her face, “Takashi, I miss you. I’m sorry, please come home.”

Mitsuya takes a deep breath despite the tinge of pain he gets from his wounded ribs. He brings his hand up to her face, his thumb wiping away her tears with his other arm wrapping around her waist. The moment she bursts out with sobs, he pulls her closer to him, allowing her to cling to the front of his Toman uniform and cry into his shoulder.

He kisses the side of her head, “Shhh… It’s okay.” He murmurs into her hair.

“Please don’t leave me, Takashi… I promise I’ll be better…” She cries softly, craning her head to look up at him.

Just before she could beg him anymore, the sound of dirt crunching underneath boots caught her ears. Akito is fast to spin on her left foot and kicking up her right, her heel colliding with the side of Ran’s face. Sending him flying and bouncing on the ground.

“Are ya done flirting?”

The couple turns to see Yeong-Ja walking up to them with a busted lip, and a few scratches on her waist, and dragging Hakkai along the ground while he’s unconscious. In her other hand is her baseball bat which is now broken in half and hanging on for dear life. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she spits out blood and approaches them.

“We’re in the middle of a battle and you’re arguing like we’re in the Walking Dead.” Yeong-Ja scolds and stops her movements a couple of feet away from them. She drops Hakkai to the ground and lets go of her broken weapon. “We have bigger things at hand, Akito.”

“Where’s your bike?” Akito questions as she wipes her tears, ceasing her crying to start up later when she has time.

“What happened to Hakkai?” Mitsuya asks with his eyes fixed on the male on the ground.

Yeong-Ja grins with a chuckle, “Kenny is gonna be pissed that I crashed it!” She then looks down at Hakkai before pushing him onto his side. “And the big guy couldn’t handle being thrown at another person.”

As Yeong-Ja gets closer to Akito and leans close to her ear, Mitsuya turns hearing groaning from behind them. He walks away from the girls, watching Ran push himself up against one of the shipping containers. He breathes heavily, his violet eyes move to meet Mitsuya’s lavender ones, and breathily chuckles. He stares up at the second-division captain of Toman standing before him.

“So what now?” Mitsuya stares down at the older Haitani brother, “You still rearing to go, Ran?”

“Dumbass,” Ran breathily laughs, bringing up a leg and resting his arm on it and then hanging his head low. “Can’t you see that I can barely even stand? You married a fucking devil!”

Mitsuya glances over his shoulder to see Akito and Yeong-Ja speaking amongst themselves. A fond gaze forms in his eyes the longer his eyes linger on Akito, watching her run a hand through her half-shaven hair and look confused momentarily. She looks up from her hand to see him staring at her, her demented glint in her eyes softening when they meet his.

“She may be a devil,” Mitsuya then turns back to look down at Ran with a half smirk. “But she’s one hell of a partner to have. You would’ve been lucky if you stuck it out with her; possibly be the new head of the Yakuza.”

Ran laughs and looks over at Akito to see her picking up her meteor hammer and rolling up the chain. “With that woman? Not a fucking chance.” He then looks up at Mitsuya with a tired scoff. “She’s the Devil incarnate. You’re a fucking lunatic to be with her.”

“Takashi, we’re gonna go ahead!” Akito shouts across the way as she hands Yeong-Ja something. “Make sure Hakkai doesn’t get himself killed!”

Before Mitsuya could respond to what their next move was, the girls are already running out of the secluded area. He lets out a sigh when they round the edge of another shipping container, cutting his sight of them. He looks back at Ran and turns to walk away.

“Huh. Well, it was a good fight.” Mitsuya walks away from the older Haitani brother, walking away to wake up Hakkai, and hopes Yeong-Ja didn’t rough him up too much.

“Hanma-sama, your back!”

Before Hanma could react, a metal pole is getting swung at his head. Just before the pole could touch him, another metal pole intercepts the attack, putting the gang member off. Gogo fends off the gang member with her sharp cobalt eyes sharpening on her opponent.

She is fast to swipe her leg at the back of the member of Kanto Manji, breaking their lock and she retracts her pole. Quickly she strikes them in their side and they lose their balance. Fast with her movements of fending off other on-coming gang members, Gogo’s sharp eyes scan her prey and position her pole as if it was the staff she typically uses.

“Thanks, Gogo!” Hanma runs off at the opening, glancing over his shoulder at her with a grin as he goes off to take down more of Kanto Maji by himself.

She hums in response before charging in attack, skillfully swinging around the long metal pole. Effortlessly landing direct and clean hits on the men around her. Cleaning dodging and deflecting other members who dare attempt to strike her with their own weapons.

She uses the trail of her gang jacket to misdirect her opponents, hiding where she aims her attack. A member successfully comes to a bind with Gogo, trying with all his might to break the hold but her eyes are locked on his. He can’t read them but feels a sense of emptiness looking into them, the black mask even makes him feel unsettled.

“You’ve met with a terrible fate haven’t you?” She says to her opponent, tilting her head to the side.

The boy shakes his head, scoffing. “Not at all. Just thinking about all the ways I could make that pretty face become my new fuck toy.”

“ Oh .”

She overrules their bind, throwing his weapon out of his hand to fly elsewhere. The pole lands and hits another gang member, others too fearful to deal with her wrath. Her eyes focused on the male before her as she lowers her weapon. There’s a moment of interest sparking in her eyes as her hand reaches up to her mask.

“Answer me,” She then carefully peels back the mask to reveal a deep gash from the corners of her lips to the hinge of her jaw. She smiles with her eyebrows knitting upwards, “Am I still pretty?”

The male lets out a sharp gasp his eyes shrinking in pure horror. He’s seen Sanzu’s mouth scars plenty of times and it never bothered anyone, but seeing this girl smile with her cheeks sliced open almost like the slit-mouth woman urban legend terrified him. Blood begins to ooze from the hastily done stitches, and they snap the more she smiles. That boy wasn’t alone as other gang members yelled and hollered in pure fear and shock.

Gogo starts to giggle almost cutely as how she raises a hand to her lips. Her eyes scanned the boys that surround her, unable to tear their gazes away from her face.

“You’re a freak!”

“The Kuchisaki Onna is real!”

“I ain’t fucking with that!”

Every one of their calls had her laughing maniacally. She swings up her metal pole as if to snuggle against it, this much attention makes her feel so giddy. She has never let anyone see what Akito has done to her face except for Hanma and Namie. But to get this much attention from their enemies has her believe what her captain had done to her face is a blessing in disguise.

It fuels her bloodlust, causing her to laugh with her pupils dilating to pinpricks as she swings her metal pole around. The gang members around her try to flee but are stuck in pure horror at her face alone, earning them a harsh whack to the head. She is truly a monster in sheep’s clothing, devouring everything in her path with a wide smile.

Gogo is a loyal servant to Akito, even if her captain had scarred her face into something of an urban legend horror show.

The girls around the area couldn’t help but look over while fighting. Most girls gasp in pure shock to see their quiet second-division captain cackling with a giant laceration across her face. Some call out to her but their voices are drowned out by the fight. Others fall into a frenzy to know that one of their own has been defaced, making them more ruthless and deadly than before.

Only if they knew what conspired in the dressing room. Only if they knew about how risky Gogo was when she indulged in Hanma’s desire to make Akito jealous. Only if they saw the look on their head captain’s face when she walked in on them fucking on the couch. How fast Akito was to snatch up the cutting shears and tackle Gogo to the floor, tears rolling down her face as she laughed maniacally while mutilating her subordinate’s face. How she threatened to kill Gogo if Hanma didn’t stop her, coaxing her and eventually forgetting about Gogo bleeding on the floor.

Only if anyone knew how deep Akito’s influence runs and corrupts people to their very core .

“I’m the only one who can crush your dark impulses! You can let go, Mikey.” Takemichi challenges the leader of Kanto Manji with hardened, determined eyes.

He didn’t care how his words would be a death sentence for him. To see the last bits of shine leaving Mikey’s eyes, he knew what is about to happen will be his death. He didn’t care. All he cared about was that Mikey will be okay and he can let go of those burdens that he holds.

He ignored everyone’s stares of disbelief and scoffs that he won’t make it. Takemichi knew that everyone thinks this is impossible, even the help from Kenjaku themselves, they all laugh and gawk at his gull to face Mikey and challenge his dark impulses.

“I don’t care what happens to you.” Mikey breathes out as a dark aura begins to surround him, drawing a katana and aiming it toward the boy he once viewed similarly to his late older brother.

Akito breathes heavily, wiping the blood from her lip as she drops Sanzu on the ground by his ponytail. Her amber eyes narrow to how Mikey goes after Takemichi with a sword while the poor kid is left with just his fists. Hearing the founding members of Toman discuss Mikey’s curse and that it’s unbreakable, making her scoff and releases a noise similar to a growl.

It pisses her off how Mikey laughs how he’s giving into his dark impulses, how he doesn’t care anymore, and carelessly slashes at Takemichi. She can’t describe how or why she feels this way. Is it because Mikey had friends who loved him dearly and he carelessly just tosses them all away because he couldn’t handle his trauma? Or was it because Mikey chose to internalize his darkness instead of seeking better outlets?

If anyone should be having a mental breakdown, it should be her. Akito has lived and witnessed her mother’s torture and death, she has lived through pure isolation for years, she didn’t know what a true friend was until middle school, and she never experienced love from an external source. She has destroyed peoples’ lives for her own amusement and had gotten punished. She has killed men to prove herself to her father’s organization.

Yet Mikey is the one in the end who still has everyone’s love and care.

Mitsuya doesn’t love her anymore. Her father can’t trust her to be the head of Kira. Yeong-Ja has become more irritable and even sides more with Draken. Kenjaku and the men of Kira only listen to her because she is terrifying and scared to leave her. The man who she thought was the love of her life has left her twice. And her dear mother left her too early for her to understand what it was like to be loved .

Why is it okay for Mikey to go berserk and still earn love from everyone, but when she does it, the world crumbles and hates her more than life itself?

Tears roll down Akito’s face as she charges in on the fight that is supposed to be just between Mikey and Takemichi. Kenjaku was not supposed to be involved in this part of the brawl. But her body moves on its own with something deep inside her taking over her.

“Get out of my way, Takebitchy!” Akito shouts out, her voice falling deeper into a near male’s voice. She swings her meteor hammer at the faux blond male, the metal ball colliding with his chest and sending him back.

Before Mikey’s attention could follow Takemichi with crazed eyes, Akito is already coming at him swinging her weapon. Members of all sides gawk in pure shock at how Akito steals the fight from Takemichi and takes on Mikey herself. Some grow pissed and comment that she’s an attention whore stealing the spotlight while her fellow girls scream at her to get out of there.

Mitsuya gasps in pure shock, his heart dropping as she barely misses the trust of Mikey’s katana at her side. “Akito, what the hell are you doing?! Get out of there!” He shouts out with pure distress and worry in his voice.

Yeong-Ja holds Draken’s shoulders with furrowed brows, hating the dilemma of taking care of her stupid boyfriend who rushes in late and now Akito’s recklessness. “He’s going to kill you!” She screams out with vigor and concern before screaming something out in Korean.

Hanma breathes heavily watching the deadly clash between Mikey and Akito. Sparks begin to fly as the katana clashes against the metal chain of the meteor hammer, the blood both opponents have dripping to the ground below them. He’s caught at a crossroads, at his wit's end, and starting to feel tired. He leans on Gogo’s shoulders for support. He should be there to aid her side, that was the contract he had signed with Haruya.

But how can he, knowing that look in Akito’s eyes? The growls that leave her with each clash the two make, the distant and crazed look in their eyes. He knows that Akito isn’t Akito— Just like how Mikey isn’t Mikey. It’s the battle of their inner demons to fight to the death. Was this Akito’s plan to break the curse that Mikey has?

The chain of the meteor hammer successfully wraps around Mikey’s neck, Akito yanks the chain and throws him at her feet. She darkly laughs as he tries to kick her but the way she yanks the chain has him struggling to breathe, his fingers gripping the heavy chain. The other end is caught at the train track wooden plank, holding him down and at her mercy.

Akito tightens the chain on him, smiling to see how red his face becomes and his eyes water. She knows she can pop his head clean off with the hold she has and how tight and rigid the hold is on him.

“Everyone loves you, Manjiro, everyone fucking adores you.” She begins to talk with a heavy condescending tone, bending down with her hold on the chain held taut. “Yet you can’t fucking understand that and kill everyone you fucking love! Shinichiro, Emma, Kazutora, and almost even Draken you got killed because you couldn’t live with your demons.”

Takemichi sits up, watching in shock at how Akito has Mikey on his knees and choking him out like it’s a public execution. The katana was tossed aside and away from Mikey’s reach, the end of Akito’s weapon elsewhere and holding him down. He always thought Mikey was invincible, untouchable, and even godly. Yet seeing him kneeling before Akito and choking for air strikes him deeply fearful with his blood running cold.

This isn’t how things are supposed to go.

“I’ve watched my mother get fucking raped, sodomized, tortured for days on fucking end only for her to die before my father’s and my own fucking eyes!” She screams out from the bottom of her very being, hot tears mixing with the blood on her face. She breathes heavily, ignoring the looks of the faces around them at her cry. “I’ve had to fucking give up my fucking innocence, my fucking childhood to the life of fucking crime! I was isolated from people! I didn’t get to meet people outside of my father’s business until I was fucking thirteen, Manjiro! I had to fucking lie my way through to get people to fucking like me while you had that fucking gift to have everyone love and adore you through your fucking flaws!”

She punches him and slams her boot at his floating ribs, causing him to scream out in agony. Her grip on the chain never loosens but she gives him a brief moment to gasp for some air.

“Sanzu never fucking blamed you for scarring his face!” Her fist collides with his face. “Baji never fucking reprimanded you for fucking up his life for Kazutora’s death!” She strikes him again. “Draken doesn’t hate you for Emma’s death!” She strikes him again as tears roll down her cheeks and fall to the ground. “You have fucking left all of fucking Toman behind and to say a big ‘ Fuck You ’ to them and created another fucking gang!”

He falls limp at her last punch. She shakes in her spot with sobs bubbling in her chest, but her grip on the chain doesn’t falter. She glares down at him through teary eyes, her upper lip curling in disgust, and her knuckles turning white.

“And to fucking believe that Takamichi Hanagaki holds your burden close to him because you’re so fucking helpless to yourself.” She scoffs curtly. “Everyone fucking loves you, Manjiro, and this is what you do for them in fucking return.”

Mikey gasps for air, feeling the chain shift ever-so-slightly to allow him barely any oxygen. “What… What do I… Have to do… W-wth you?” He questions between gasps, staring up at her through reddened and tearful eyes with his veins popping out.

“I hold burdens that run deeper than just in my blood,” She states before squatting on the ground before him, yanking up the chain to make him look her in the eye. She smiles, “You and I are a couple of fucking devils, but one of us is loved while the other gets abandoned and tossed away!”

“Everyone is here for you while I am left behind!” She screams out before shoving him back and grabbing both ends of the chain.

Takemichi scrambles up to his feet to try to stop the two gang leaders. Hearing and finally seeing the true loneliness that she holds, watching her attack Mikey as if it was her final straw that broke her. But there’s an arm that grabs him and tugs him back, he looks behind to see Sanzu, and his eyes widen.

“My husband left me and shuts himself from the world until it came to you! Hanma fucking left me after Kisaki’s death and you squealed he was his accomplice! He left me again for the fucking acting head of Kenjaku! My gang no longer listens to me! My own second in command has left me more than once and chose what is supposed to be your best friend over me! My father won’t even look my way with the immediate pain hitting him because all he sees is his deceased lover! I am truly alone!”

She belts out in pure anguish, yanking the chain up and down to pick up and slam his head to the ground. Her tears fall to his face, her cries filling the air, and it freezes the on-lookers of what is supposed to be a battle.

“You act like you’re alone when everyone here is here for you!” She screams out as she momentarily releases her hold on the chain to punch him in the face. “Everyone loves you! Everyone cares about you! You don’t know true loneliness like I fucking do, Manjiro!”

In her fault for letting go of the chain, Mikey grabs a large rock on the ground and bashes it against her head. She falls off of him and cries out in pain, giving him a moment to unravel himself from the chain. But even in Akito’s fragile state, she forces herself up while the side of her head is bleeding and her sight starting to grow hazy. She blocks his kick to her neck, and she kicks up her own leg to knee him in the stomach but he deflects her attack.

“I-I need to go—” Yeong-Ja’s voice shakes, her arms unwinding from Draken as her hands shake and her chest feels heavy. “He’s going to kill her.”

He grabs her arm, looking up at her with a hardened look. “He’ll kill you too. I’m not letting either of them hurt you, Yeong-Ja.” He says firmly despite the pain in his voice.

“But she’s my best friend,” Yeong-Ja looks down at him with a brokenhearted look.

“He was mine too.” He retorts, wincing in pain when he forces himself to sit up. “They’re beyond what we can do without getting ourselves killed.”

She doesn’t like how this sounds to watch Akito and Mikey beat themselves to death. For once in anyone’s time knowing Mikey, this is the first time they see him struggling to fight back. As well for Akito, sways in her moments and forces herself to strike.

Mitsuya can’t stand to watch both his friend and wife bloody themselves up in each other’s blood. He doesn’t like the sounds of grunts, bloodied spit hitting the ground, bones crunching, or even cries in pain. He wants to move, but he fucking can’t. And this kills him inside to know that he wouldn’t know how to stop either of them.

He needs to protect her, he needs to take over that fight. He needs to get Akito away from danger. He promised him, he promised himself that he wouldn’t let anyone he cares for get killed again. Yet Hanma finds himself frozen in his spot, clinging onto another woman that isn’t even his to protect, and watching his boss and partner starting to falter and wither away. What kind of guard dog is he to Akito? He couldn’t protect his mother, nor Kisaki, and now not even Akito.

The next thing that happens goes so fast.

Takemichi breaks free from Sanzu’s hold, running into the brutal fight between Akito and Mikey. The sword is back in Mikey’s hand while she weakly fights back against him with garrote wires from her wristband. Takemichi screams at them to stop, getting knocked around by the deadly pair, but eventually gets in between them.

At the final thrust of Mikey’s sword, he skewers both Takemichi and Akito. Takemichi pressed himself more into the sword and wraps his arm around Mikey, assuring him that he is his friend for life. Akito coughs up a bountiful amount of blood, making her look down at the mess on herself, the sword, and the back of Takemichi. Screams and shouts fill the air as the color in Mikey’s eyes returns but a moment too late.

The three of them collapse to their knees, Takemichi uttering something incoherent to Mikey as they embrace each other. Cries of Takemichi fill the air as Mikey cries out in anguish for him, and other members cry and call for him.

Akito falls limp against Takemichi’s back, feeling her life slip away and only to the cries of Takemichi. She slowly blinks and her breathing is labored as she thinks to herself, ‘My last tantrum ended with me dying? How pitiful. How strange it must be to fear a girl with no friends and no future.’

When Mikey moves Takemichi to rest his head on his thighs, Akito coughs up more blood as she’s forced to lay snuggly against Takemichi like a bell pepper on a yakitori stick. Everyone is so concerned about Takemichi, even though he was just a weak crybaby. But he left impacts on people, positive ones for the most part. Who’d miss a girl who has done nothing but inflict fear in everyone around her to force them to stay by her side?

“Akito!”

The voice that calls out to her sounds familiar, making her weakly turn her head to the side. She sees a few people running towards her, calling out to her and begging for her to hold on. With each slow blink, the night sky turns a little brighter as a hand is held out to her.

“Akito, what have you gotten yourself into?” A woman’s voice softly asks her with a lighthearted laugh.

Her eyes shift upwards to see a woman but she wasn’t able to make out her face entirely. Her long raven hair falls past her shoulders with a pale hand reaching for her, gently caressing the side of her face. Akito is filled with a sense of comfort, warmth, and love from the woman’s touch.

“What is your dear father going to say about this?” She questions with no malice behind it, but there’s a half smile in her voice.

“Don’t tell papa, please.” Akito breathlessly begs, looking at the woman with pleading eyes. “I’m scared… I don’t want to be alone...”

“You’re not alone, my Plum Blossom,” The woman says warmly, and soon her face comes more vividly to Akito. Tears fill up her eyes again as a smile tugs at her lips. “Mommy is right here, Akito. I never left you alone, my troublesome daughter.”

There’s a weak laugh that leaves Akito as her chest fills with warmth. “Mama..!”

Mitsuya’s eyes widen as tears roll down his face, his hands shaking as Akito lets out her last breath and falls completely limp against Takemichi’s dead body. He reaches for her neck again, in hopes to find a pulse as Yeong-Ja is on the phone with someone, possibly Kira. But there is no pulse.

He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t want to move her from the sword but he also wants to hold her close to him. There’s a dry laugh from behind him, he dares to look up to see Hanma crying with a smile on his face. But his tearful eyes don’t match the smile on his face. No, they’re holding guilt, remorse, and even heartbreak.

“She’s gone, isn’t she, Mitsuya?” Hanma says with a laugh of disbelief.

Mitsuya’s mouth feels dry and his heart feels heavy in his chest. All he can do is sadly nod before turning back to Akito, and the sob that tears through his chest breaks anyone’s heart around them. He instinctively pulls Akito’s corpse closer to him in the best way he can to hold her one last time.

“I’m sorry, Akito! I shouldn’t have left your side! I’m sorry!” Mitsuya wails into her hair, shaking as more sobs tear through him.

Yeong-Ja ends the call and her legs give out beneath her, but before she slams into the ground, she’s caught by Draken. Despite that he has a few broken ribs and a possible broken arm, he pulls her to him, allowing her to cry into his chest. He looks down at Mitsuya holding Akito’s dead body with tears welling in his eyes. He knows he should be mourning for Takemichi, but it hurts him more to see his childhood best friend let out the most heartwrenching cries.

Hanma can’t help but stand there, crying and laughing at the same time. He knows it wasn’t Akito’s time to go yet, but she didn’t have the fight left in her. She believed that Mitsuya had left her for good, she believed that he betrayed her for another woman, and she believed that her very first and only best friend had abandoned her for her boyfriend. Hanma knew more than anyone—well maybe not Mitsuya— how lonely and terrified Akito was to create close relationships.

Now Hanma doesn’t know what to do or tell Haurya how his daughter died and why he wasn’t able to protect her. He knows that he’d be the next dead and maybe meet Kisaki and his mother in the afterlife. But then again, Haruya will not be able to live with himself knowing that both his daughter’s guard dog and husband are mourning her death if not as bad as he will be.

End…

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stalebagels · 6 months

Note

what’s your ranking of the talk show hosts?

Oh, thank you for asking. I am so sorry for the essay I am about to write.

Highest to Lowest:

Conan O'Brien / Craig Ferguson - I put these two in the top spot because if you asked me to choose only one of them to watch for the rest of my life I wouldn't be able to do it. Both of them are people that I watched with my dad occasionally through my childhood so maybe I'm a little biased on that front. They're probably the only two hosts that I ever cared to watch interview anyone because it never felt boring to me even if I didn't really care about the interviewee or know who it was. They were both unique and just seemed like genuinely good people both inside and outside the studio (and to add to the bias a little; I got to meet Craig at one of his Fancy Rascal tour shows last year and he was so fucking great. I was so nervous going into it because I was worried he wouldn't be the same as he was on TV as is the case for a lot of celebrities, but he went above and beyond for everyone. He signed everyone's posters and merch even though he didn't have to (I got a poster signed) and he actually took the time to have a full conversation with everyone individually and make sure everyone was comfortable. He's a wonderful dude and I wish I could go back and talk to him again.)

Stephen Colbert - When I first started watching late night shows (back when the pandemic first started), the first shows I ever sat down and watched a full episode of on TV were Stephen and Conan. I had absolutely no idea who Stephen was because up until that point I hadn't really cared enough about politics. I grew up in a heavily conservative small town with a heavily conservative family in the south where the word liberal counted as an insult, so you can imagine we didn't really watch a lot of late night shows. Stephen's show helped me make sense of things, helped me work out what my own feelings were, and provided an escape from the hell that was lockdown. He was the one that made me give a shit about what's happening in this country first, and after that first sit down I ended up going back and watching old episodes of The Colbert Report and The Daily Show (he also led me to Jon in that regard, since I had no idea either of those shows existed) and found that I loved his style of comedy. I really do wish I had discovered him sooner.

Jon Stewart - The only reason I didn't stick Jon and Stephen in the number two spot together (as well as John Oliver) was because Stephen was primarily responsible for my interest in politics - basically he was for me what Jon was to everyone before he retired - and was the one who led me to Jon in the first place. It took me a while, but once I finally went back and started watching old clips and episodes of The Daily Show; once again I wished I had discovered him sooner. I wish I had his righteous, angry optimism to look forward to every night, but a lot of the things he's said and done on the show still hold true today. Plus, his fight for the 9/11 first responders bill to get passed was absolutely inspiring and an example we should all follow when it comes to pushing for change and holding our leaders accountable. I didn't realize he started out as a stand-up comedian, but I've since watched as much of it as I could get my hands on because he's just an incredibly smart and funny dude in any situation.

John Oliver - I hate to put John so low on the list but I didn't want to cop out and put him, Jon, and Stephen all in the same tier lol. I'll be honest, I can't really remember the first time I watched John's show. I think it must have been on YouTube at some point during lockdown or even right before, but ever since the first time I watched it I was hooked. I learn so much from him and his show and I always look forward to his next episode. Generally, I don't really watch guest interviews unless I really care about whoever is there, but since John doesn't have guests it was much easier for me to sit down and watch the entire thing without getting bored or distracted. He does an incredible job of informing his viewers about a problem that - chances are - they had no idea existed beforehand and the amount of research/investigation he and his team do inspire me to do the same. It was really weird watching his stand-up and seeing him in regular clothes and not a suit though lol.

Jimmy Kimmel - I think this might... be a controversial take. His was the third show I started watching during the pandemic - I think Stephen took a break at some point and I decided to try watching Kimmel to fill the time - and I found that I actually quite liked him. His monologues felt natural and easy, and he had a lot of his family and friends on his staff which I admired (plus Guillermo). His humor is kind of the same as my dad's though (sort of), so maybe that's why I liked him off the bat. His beef with Matt Damon is hilarious, his pranks are generally harmless and funny, and he seems very down to earth and generous for someone who makes a goddamn lot of money. Plus, I watched a clip of him back during the Tonight Show fiasco where he came on Leno's show and shit talked at him about backstabbing Conan, which earned some respect from me. I don't know a lot about what he did on the Man Show because I don't think I would touch that with a ten foot pole (and from what he says neither would he), but he seems like a good guy. (Although I will say I generally only stay long enough to watch the beginning of his show like the monologue or unnecessary censorship since I don't care about musical guests or interviews).

Seth Meyers - Again I hate to put him down so low, but I have to be honest and say I don't actually know a whole lot about him. I watched him on SNL sometimes with my dad when it was on, but it wasn't very often. I never watched his show during the pandemic as I was mainly focused on juggling Kimmel, Colbert, Fallon (gag) and Conan. Honestly it wasn't until Strike Force Five came around that I really started paying attention to him. I like that he involves his writers and his staff in a lot of his bits, and he seems like a lovely person. Unfortunately, though, he is down here a little lower but I still enjoy watching him even if I haven't watched a lot of his content. (His stand-up special is on my list, though)

Jimmy Fallon - This is a weird one for me. I watched Fallon a couple of times during lockdown and even before then I knew who he was because everyone hated him. It was on a whim that I decided to watch his show one night, and I wasn't really impressed with what I saw. That said, I didn't hate it - and when the Rolling Stone article came out I was very disappointed. And the fact that he just never addressed it publicly and carried on like nothing happened rubbed me the wrong way, and every monologue I did see afterwards just.. wasn't even puff-of-nose-air funny anymore. He became much more annoying to me, even during the podcast. The only time I found him funny were the Strike Force Wives games. Otherwise he just became painfully bland, and it's a shame because his original late night show was actually pretty decent in comparison to The Tonight Show.

As for Corden and M*her; if they were being chased by hundreds of angry geese and asked me to let them in my house for shelter, I'd shut the door in their face and laugh.

So, if you got to the end of this long ass clusterfuck, here are two pics of Craig and I at the tour :) and once again, I apologize.

#I AM SORRY #this got SO LONG #thanks for the ask though i've never gotten one before lol nobody wants my opinions on things #this is probably why #honorable mention: graham norton my king #strike force five #jon stewart #stephen colbert #john oliver #conan o'brien #jimmy kimmel #craig ferguson #seth meyers #jimmy fallon #anon ask #late night

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theresawritesstuff · 1 year

Text

Ms. Holloway at the Gaslight

(I promise I'm also working on my Midgelenny Wips but I'm also having fun playing in this Weissman family sandbox)

Part 1, Part 2

The Gaslight, 1928

The sound of a jazz trio drifted up to greet them as Abe descended the familiar steps of the speakeasy, the lovely Rose Lehman on his arm.

"Oh Abe, this place is positively tantalizing!" she gasped.

A shy smile tugged at his lips. "I'm glad you like it. Bertie's no stranger to gin joints and to her credit this one does offer some of the better canapés in town. I just wish they'd clean the floors more often."

"Your sister sounds like such an adventurous soul. I can't wait to meet her! You said she lives in Canada?" Rose wondered, taking in the sights of the crowded basement bar.

"Yes, she moved there about five years ago to be with her husband Lester."

"Is he a Mountie?"

Abe chuckled, finding the notion absurd. "No."

"Oh."

"He's a musician. I believe he also dabbles in instrument repair," he explained.

"I see."

She looked around for an open table but her focus was quickly broken by his struggle to suppress a grin.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

Abe shook his head. "Just imagining Lester on a horse."

She blinked. "He doesn't know how to ride?"

"Of course not."

"It's not that uncommon of a skill," she sniffed primly.

He patted her hand gently, guiding her with the arm it was draped over. "Perhaps in Tulsa, but here in New York…"

Rose rolled her eyes. "There are still plenty of horses in New York City."

"Well…"

"People still have carts. There's the carriages in central park," she argued.

"I suppose…" he conceded unconvincingly, looking around the room.

"You're telling me you've never had the opportunity to ride a horse. Not ever in your entire life?" she wondered incredulously.

She knew things in New York were different from life in Oklahoma but everyone she'd ever known growing up had known how to ride.

"Opportunity or not, I am a scholar, Rose. My primary goals in life growing up involved extensive reading. One cannot read while on horseback."

She scoffed lightly. "Don't be silly. Of course you can! As long as the horse knows where it's going…"

"There he is!" A curly haired woman exclaimed boisterously from across the room as she crossed to greet them. "Doctor Abraham Weissman, PHD and President of the snooty-booties-who-only-like-to-talk-about-how-smart-they-are club."

Abe chuckled as the petite woman planted a kiss on his cheek. "Professor Weissman, Bertie. Please," he corrected. "I'm useless if someone in here has a heart attack. Don't go giving anyone the wrong idea."

His sister laughed. "Nonsense. You can exclaim e-gads he's having a heart attack! with the best of them."

"When have I ever uttered the phrase e-gads?" he contradicted.

Bertie ignored him, turning to acknowledge his date. "You must be Rose."

"Lovely to finally meet you, Bertha. I've so been looking forward to getting acquainted," Rose greeted.

"Oh, aren't you a doll! Abe, you really undersold how gorgeous she is. Yowzers! Love the bob."

"Thank you." Rose blushed, running a hand through the ends of her hair modestly.

"Come sit, come sit! I promise the chairs don't bite," Bertie welcomed.

Once they were seated, she turned a curious brow on her younger brother.

"So Professor," she drawled. "I take it the job offers have already started pouring in?"

"They will…at some point. I had an interview with Columbia recently that I think went rather well. I made sure to bring up some of the newer theories within my expertise that I intend to teach on, if hired. They also have a very elderly mathematics department. I sensed a few impending retirements when I was there."

"Columbia would be lucky to have you," Bertie assured him.

"Tell her about the apartment," Rose prompted.

"Apartment?" Bertie's eyebrows lifted in question.

Abe exhaled modestly. "I've heard rumors that a professorship would come with housing as one of the perks of the position."

"They let you have your pick of dormitory?" Bertie teased.

"The university owns a few apartments on the Upper West Side they reserve for their more prestigious instructors, especially those with a family in tow. And given that my dissertation was very well received and I've been making strides within the field while completing my degree, it seems within the realm of possibility…"

He glanced quietly at Rose as he mentioned family, keeping his hands clasped tightly on the table, likely in an attempt to keep himself from reaching for hers.

Bertie bit her tongue to keep from commenting on it.

She'd been more than a little miffed with her parents when she heard they'd hired a matchmaker for her brother. Butting in on her own love life when she was a singleton was one thing. She knew what to expect and what was expected of her. She could handle herself. But Abe had a tender heart behind that enormous brain of his. He could not withstand a true heartbreak if things fell through.

She blew out a breath, focusing on the part of the discussion she knew he was comfortable with.

"An apartment on the Upper West Side, a professorship at a renowned university. I can hear our parents kvelling from here," she beamed, shaking her head. "It will be all they talk about for the next year, mark my words. Abe Weissman, esteemed professor of mathematics and pride of all Manhattan! Were it not for the grandchildren I've given them, it would already be Bertha who?"

Abe let out a laugh at her playful ribbing. "How are the children? Did they enjoy the train ride?"

Bertie slumped dramatically in her seat. "Did they ever! Sherry kept pestering the poor chap working the dining car about the recipe for the cake she had and Jacob ran around the car until he passed out. Tishy napped most of the way. Speaking of which!"

Looking past them into the crowd, she called out, "Lester, dear, who's got our little Canadian contraband?"

"Just got her back from Viola. She insisted on giving her a bite of pickled egg just to see what she would do with it," Lester said, coming to join them, a baby wriggling happily on his hip.

"There she is!" Bertie cooed at the sight of her daughter.

"Oh!" Rose gasped in surprise as Lester joined them before she could stop herself.

"Miss." Lester gave her a smile. "Abe. Good to see you."

"You brought the baby? Why isn't she asleep at her grandparents' like the other children?" Abe wondered, turning to his sister in surprise.

"I can't be away from her all night. My tits would explode," Bertie replied with a laugh, watching her brother squirm a bit at the uncouth mention of lactation. "Besides, after that nap today on the train there's no way she would sleep through the night. Trust me, Mama doesn't need to take that on."

The little girl looked up as she settled in on her mother's lap.

"Oh, hello there! Aren't you a pretty little thing. What's her name?" Rose asked, fawning over the little cherubic face looking over at them.

"Laetitia."

"We call her Tish," Lester added, pulling up a chair and fixing the little one's sock.

"Would you like to hold her?" Bertie offered.

Rose blanched slightly, looking from the baby to her new designer dress.

"Well, I um…alright," she replied, caving to what felt like a test of her maternal qualifications.

Bertie handed her over, the little girl flashing a grin at being passed to someone new.

The smile quickly faded into an inquisitive, serious expression as she looked up at Rose, tilting her head slightly.

"Huh. That's odd. She's usually such a giggle goose," Bertie mused.

Rose blinked, plastering on a smile.

"Oh she probably is just curious about the pearls," she laughed, dangling the long strand for the little one to see.

"Abe! Great to see you Old Sport."

Abe looked up as one of the musicians came to greet them. "Chester! How long has it been?"

"Ages, chum. We must catch up. But first, I am parched! Can I convince you to tickle the ivories for me a spell?"

"Oh I don't know…" he replied modestly.

"I was actually going to tap in on the bass for a song or two if you care to join," Lester offered.

Abe bit his lip, wavering noncommittally. "My improvisational skills might not up to par these days. I'm so out of practice."

"You're welcome to stick to the script if that'll make you more comfortable. I brought a few pieces I've been working on."

Lester waved the sheets of paper he'd been keeping tucked in his pocket.

"Really?" Abe brightened, his interest piqued.

"You'd be the first to play them other than myself," Lester replied.

"Well in that case. That is if–"

He turned to look at the table.

"Go! Both of you. We girls can keep each other entertained without you just fine, can't we Rosie?" Bertie insisted.

"Rose?" Abe asked.

Rose nodded. "Go ahead, Abe. I know how much you adore playing. And I always love to hear you."

"We'll play something real sweet for you," Lester promised.

The pair of women watched them go as the men reacquainted themselves with the instruments.

"He seems nice," Rose observed.

Bertie nodded, smiling softly.

"He is."

Rose bounced Tish on her knee softly, sorting through just how she wanted to phrase what was going through her head. "So um, how did you two…"

"Fall in love?" Bertie offered mercifully.

"Well…yes."

The older woman glanced fondly at her husband. "I can't speak for him but for me it started right over there."

"Here? In this very room?" Rose wondered, already caught up in the tale. She'd always adored a love story.

Bertie nodded. "Part of why I like to swing through this part of town when we visit. I'm a bit sentimental. It was back when I was still trying to get my hat in the opera ring. Trying being the operative word. I had drifted in for a pick me up while I was working on an audition piece that had me completely stuck. I could not for the life of me get the language of the song to flow properly. It was from Carmen, I remember. Habanera specifically."

"Ah! L'amour est un oiseau rebelle. Beautiful number," Rose sighed.

Bertie chuckled. "You can say it better than I ever could."

"Well I spent a little time in Paris last year," Rose admitted proudly. "But do go on. Please."

She obliged. "Anyway, there I was, right over there, with my music and my martini, muttering the phrases of the song to myself over and over and over. And then the piano starts playing along."

Rose let out a gasp. "Was it Lester?"

Bertie smiled to herself at the younger woman's enthusiasm.

"It was indeed. I was so embarrassed at first but he had such a kind smile. We just ended up laughing and that led to talking and talking led to singing…" She sighed happily at the memory, growing thoughtful. "I remember he told me not to worry so much about the words and to just trust my gut. Riff a little. So I did. I don't think I'd ever truly loved performing until that moment. All those lessons and recitals growing up. The years at IMA. I knew I was meant for it. But I didn't love it until I knew him."

Rose blinked, touched by the notion.

Bertie smiled, brushing it off casually. "Anyhow, after that I knew I needed more of Les in my life. His smile lit up my whole world that night."

Rose felt herself grow a bit misty. "Oh my... That's actually quite beautiful."

Bertie shrugged. "Yeah it's not too shabby of a meet cute."

"And you knew he was the one right then?" Rose wondered.

Bertie thought for a moment. "No. I think I realized he was the one when I was struggling to come up with a stage name and he got so fed up with me pestering him for surname ideas that he said I should just borrow his since he wasn't using it."

Realizing she should explain, she added, "He goes by Jacobs when we're performing. Makes for less trouble if the show billing gets out to a more closed minded member of the public. But those who are fans of the act know the truth."

She took a sip of her water, looking into the glass as she held it in her hand. "It's funny. He lent me his name for a night and I finally felt like someone worthwhile. Like it was who I was meant to be."

Rose looked over at the stage as Abe began to play.

"Must have been comforting having someone so decisive in your corner."

There was a wistfulness, a longing in the young woman's eyes. And a trace of uncertainty.

Bertie followed her gaze.

"Something we have in common."

"Perhaps…"

Bertie chewed the inside of her lip. It was heartbreaking to see the poor thing pining. Especially when it was clear that Abe was smitten.

Or at least clear to her.

But not everyone knew him like she did.

After considering her words a moment, Bertie said, "My brother is not always the easiest man to understand. It can be difficult for him to share in words exactly what he feels. He can often get caught up in his work. To those unfamiliar with his character, he can come off as uncaring. Or just oblivious. But he does love very, very fiercely. His loyalty to those he gives his heart to is unparalleled."

She set her glass down, looking Rose head on. "I suspect once his position with Columbia is secured, he will have a few things he'll want to share with you. And a few questions. Or at least one. I hope you'll have your answer ready when he does."

Rose's smile bloomed brighter at the reassurance.

"My answer has been ready for a long time."

"I'm glad to hear it." Bertie reached over, giving Rose's hand a squeeze.

Tish began to giggle as she watched Rose's expression grow happier.

"There it is!" Bertie laughed.

The two women sniffed as an odor wafted from the beneath the little one.

"Oh boy. Hang on," Bertie chuckled apologetically, scooping her daughter up.

She took a peek down the back of Tish's diaper.

"Just gas. We dodged that one," she assured the younger woman with a laugh, settling back down.

"Oh. Good," Rose laughed uneasily.

Watching the little one snuggle into her mother's arms she couldn't help but ask, "Is it worth it? All the mess and crying?"

Bertie smiled softly, glancing at the stage as the song came to a close.

"With the right person it's all worth it."

"Hm…"

Rose smiled as Abe took a modest bow, clearly tickled by the applause.

Looking back to his niece before her, she couldn't help but note the family similarity in the child's warm brown eyes.

Three children seemed like a bit much. But she could probably handle two.

#Tmmm #abe x rose #We deserved more Weissmans #I really should put this on AO3 soon #This one's gonna be a multi chapter #Probably tie in to the eventual sequel to Guess Who's Coming to Yom Kippur because I want to write an extended Weissman family Steiner trip

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crispykodraws · 2 years

Note

Hey i just wanted to say that i am kinda obsessed with your Firelord Azula AU. I have just two questions that keep bouncing raound in my head Maybe you could help with them if you want and they aren't spoilers or left open for reader interpretation.

Seeing as Azula had a productive conversation with Zuko and he and Katara didn't just steal the crown from her in this AU, i assume she didn't have her mental breakdown (besides cutting her hair) and send everyone away. Is that correct?. So is she still in charge of the Dai Li? And how did she avoid it (maybe just a healthy amount of sleep)?

And what did they do instead of havjng the Last Agni Kai? Did Azula just quiz Zuko on Fire Nation bureaucracy, court life and diplomacy and after Zuko couldn't answer the questions correctly, he decided he needed to do some learning before he could run the Fire Nation?

Sorry for the long ask. You said you wanted to do some comic strips about this AU, i am definitely looking forward to that. And what new haircuts you decide to give Azula.

Hello, I too am obsessed with this AU. I think about it everyday. So thank you very much for asking about it!

I'm retroactively writing this paragraph because my answer got long. It might be considered spoilers for some, but a lot of them won't be addressed directly in the comics/fics because they're mostly just gags and short moments in the AU. So they're more like supplemental uhh lore than spoilers. To be safe though, I'll hide the rest of the answer below.

Aaah, I like those scenarios in your ask. My funny haha brain can imagine Zuko coming in and saying "I'd like to apply to be Fire Lord" and Azula, the merciless interviewer, says with a straight face, "A month ago, you didn't even know how Fire Lord Sozin, your own great-grandfather, died"

But lemme answer your questions before I get ahead of myself.

1) Mental Breakdown One thing to understand about this AU is it started with a joke idea that Zuko came to Azula's coronation to just attend it, not usurp her (much to Katara's and everyone else's confusion). I don't want to change that because it keeps things lighthearted despite the serious topics beneath the surface. I might like to keep plot points canon compliant, but there's some suspension of disbelief needed for this AU to work.

So, nah. Everything before the Last Agni Kai still happens. The only people who stuck around after the banishing spree are her Imperial Firebenders (they were weathering her ire in the barracks). Ninety percent of the servants are gone; Lo and Li retired to Ember Island; and the Dai Li left but didn't go back to the Earth Kingdom because they're considered traitors by then. Azula needed to feel the acute sense of being alone to accept Zuko into her life again.

There are few things that I've taken liberty with, like amplifying Azula's loneliness and desire to have someone to trust and call a family unconditionally. Aside from wanting control of her life, those are her motivations in this AU. So when Zuko refuses to fight and offers all those to her, she just takes it. And despite of her still present paranoia at the time, she believes it because Zuko wears his heart on his sleeve. He can lie but it's easy to spot.

However, her issues aren't resolved by then. Since this Azula is in a position of power and still insulated in her comfort zone and doesn't really get professional help, her healing comes really, really slow. Zuko's presence only helps so much.

2) Fire Lord Business I mentioned it earlier; Zuko arrives at her coronation and refused to fight her. He knows that even if he asked nicely and proved his worth, Azula wouldn't give him the crown. Zuko understands that she deserves it--she's filled the role of the heir for a long time now and this is the culmination of it. He also knows that he doesn't have to be the Fire Lord to make a difference in the world. He's already done so by helping Aang. So he basically let the coronation continue and let Azula have what she wants. It's also his peace offering, like a "look I can be nice to you too, please trust me" thing.

Zuko is already aware that he lacks the skill and experience to run a nation. He has some managerial and customer service skills from his time as a teashop employee, so he managed to be Azula's secretary/scribe for a short while. He does get promoted pretty quickly though.

When they first address his training, it's a few days after the coronation. Technically, they aren't both done with their training and lessons, but Azula is way ahead of Zuko. Everyone who wants to do public service and administration in the Fire Nation has to pass several civil service exams. Royalty aren't required to but they all take (and should pass, because it would be embarrassing otherwise) the exams as a formality. They both haven't taken any yet, so that's something they're equals on.

I do want to make comic strips about this, yeah. Some of them are going to be converted into fanfics probably. Because I don't want to draw them They work better in prose than in comic format. But I'm not sure if I'll do them all; there's like ~30 parts already lmao. So yeah, I don't really mind the long ask, I actually enjoyed sharing stuff about it. Might have overshared, to be honest. I hope you don't mind. I tried my best to be vague and avoid specific spoilers.

And let's see if Azula with another haircut will be added to the collection lol

Again, thanks very much for the ask!!

#asks #atla (archive)#!Coregency AU

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allieebobo · 2 years

Note

hi again!! so i was wondering - how would sam, rayyan and tobin cope with federer’s retirement???

Nikka!!! Sorry for taking a gabiillion years on this <3 Hehe, hopefully I’ve taken long enough that this is no longer an open wound :P

It was a tough one! Treat this as my own headcanon, but I can imagine a thousand different reactions that I didn't come up with!

Sam:

Would go into a tailspin of consuming every single piece of media they could possibly consume regarding Federer, including the (many) Federer-related books, videos, reddit threads etc. etc.

They'd probably force MC to sit down and watch a compilation of Federer's best shots, best interviews, geeking out about old stats e.g. gushing about how his play has evolved over the years and so on.

Not to mention all the Fedal content, and... say wistfully to MC, "I'd love to play a doubles match with you one day."

Honestly, Sam might even post some compilation video of their own, and get semi youtube/tiktok famous from it.

Rayyan

Rayyan is not a sentimental person - well, to be more precise, they do watch hours of videos of their favorite players, analysing their swing etc. but they're not really the sort to OBSESS over individual players as... people. Not to mention, they've always been more of a Nadal fan... (they'll probably shed a few tears when that GOAT retires).

BUT, that said, their dad is and has always been obsessed with Federer, and although he does not play much tennis these days, he used to play a mean game back in the day, and was how Rayyan had picked up the sport in the first place. So, Federer had been very much a staple in the house growing up.

Rayyan feels an indescribable sense of loss now that Federer has retired; to them, it functions more as a marker of the passage of time, and reminds them of childhood, times spent with their dad.

Tobin

Tobin takes the retirement the hardest, and... almost personally. It breaks them a little bit - especially because Federer had been their inspiration growing up (along with Serena and Venus Williams).

Tobin's style is very similar to Federer's, but their temperaments are similar, too. Both very much make tennis look graceful, magical, even when it's not. They've adopted a similar commitment to the mantra of "grace under pressure", and always behaving with composure and dignity.

All this to say that Tobin feels almost like a piece of them has been buried along with Federer's retirement. They'll talk to MC about it, if they're close, and also to their parents - and then, in typical Tobin-esque fashion, they'll try to use it to spur themselves forward, more determined than ever to come into their own as a player and as a person.

As one of the other tumblr asks had mentioned: it's Tobin's era now!

#CT:OS #college tennis: origin story #if #asks #interactive fiction #sam #rayyan #tobin #federer retirement

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