People going back and forth about which side Marko is on vs what side Horner is on is ultimately pointless because the only side Helmut Marko is on is the wrong side of the grave.
alright I've got to do some quick math to explain attitudes towards AI to my boss.
we're looking to create an AI policy, and when we were talking about this, my boss (older millennial) was genuinely shocked to hear that younger people do not (seem) to view AI positively (a la the recent commencement speakers being booed)
please rb for larger sample size!
Question 1/3
What is your age, and do you feel AI is a net positive or net negative in our lives today?
babe, your mic is cutting out (ch 27/?) - rosquez/dovquez [e]
Marc takes a sharp breath, like heâs about to speak, then falls silent. Vale searches, frantically, for something to say. Something that will get him closer to Marc without giving more of himself away, something that will allow him to bask in the warmth he so desperately needs without getting burned alive.
Wait Iâm sorry parent/child incest fic?????? Why does that exist? Why do you KNOW that exists?????? What the fuck đ€ą
I feel like you can sort of tell how long (or not) someone has existed in fannish spaces by how outraged they get about things like this. Like rings in a tree trunk lol. I've been in so many fandoms. At least one, but often multiple at the same time, since I was a teenager. I've seen just. Everything.
Sex pollen. Mpreg. Incest. Monster fucking. Tentacles. Pairings like Snape/Hermione that would be crazy abusive and illegal if they were real. Wild kinks. The babygirlification of all kinds of villains. So much RPF (the 'I sincerely believe they are secretly a couple' kind and the 'this is fictional but it's fun to imagine they're in love' kind.)
You learn to just scroll past shit you don't like or unfollow people or filter tags. The tldr of fandom is that humans are weird as fuck. And creative, and unhinged, and traumatized, and talented. And amazing. And every single thing that you clutch your pearls about 'well surely someone doesn't want to read/write THAT!' - someone does. Probably lots of people do. And those people are perfectly normal. In their offline lives, they're parents and siblings and they have jobs and friends and they go about their lives and they don't cause any harm. And that's the sticking point. There's this really concerning, frankly highly Evangelical idea that if someone enjoys the wrong kind of fiction, they are obviously a Bad Person. But nothing is that simple, and thought crimes aren't real, and you definitely have some thoughts or ideas that someone else would find fucked up. You don't have to like every kind of fic that exists. I certainly don't. But shaming people for their harmless fantasies about fictional characters is so boring. I saw Goody Proctor enjoying a Toxic Ship! Good for you, I'll alert the pope.
Chapter Summary: Marc does his favourite thing in the world at in Mugello with Franky's new boyfriend. While Alex pulls Dovi into a lie, which means more to him than he realises. Read below or on ao3!
After Valentinoâs retirement, Marc only came to the paddock when Valentino was also there. He didnât have a reason otherwise. Of course he remembers the years where he was the WAG of the paddock, never missing a race after him and Valentino first met, Cota was his favourite track because it was the place where Valentino officially asked him out all the way back in 2013 but today they were in Mugello and that was always special. After all Marc was adored here, the amount of girlfriends that told him they came off the promise of seeing Marc was sweet, while Nonnas pitched his cheeks and thanked him for settling Valentino down, for the good of the nation they would say, was always special.Â
But today was more important than that, today Frankyâs boyfriend who he had been so quiet about the identity of was coming to the paddock today. Meaning Marc would get to do one of his favourite thing giving a paddock tour, welcoming them into this wild world, back in the day when he was at every race he knew every girlfriend, wife and their mobile number by heart after all he was normally the first point of contact if anything went wrong, he took on that role with grave importance.Â
Now, Valentino, several years removed from the sport, Marc didnât know everyone as well. Most of the Moto3 girlfriends now knew more about him than he would ever know about them, but he still had his girls, who, when all their husbands were racing together, he saw more than his own family.Â
Who is he kidding? He never spoke to his family after being caught with a neighbourhood boy in his bed at 17. It was fine, he got kicked out, but he got into modelling after and then met Valentino. He shouldnât dwell on it. Thatâs what Valentino always said Marc shouldnât think about his life before he met Valentino. It was safer.
But all those friendships all started with these grand welcome tours, remembering the first time he got lost, and poor Uccio had to track him down; he liked feeling needed, so if he could help someone not get lost in a weekend that was already overwhelming enough, then he would always do it with a smile.Â
Another reason today was such a big deal was that this would be the first time he was doing it with another man. Despite Valentino coming out, no one else was really open about that, which never really bothered Marc. He enjoyed still getting to do it on the weekends where he was there, being a welcoming face, a shoulder to lean on or cry on, riders could be stupid sometimes after all, even if he never got the chance to give the tour to another man, his girls were enough.Â
Until Dovi and Alex had announced they were together, being riders, Marc knew that the âWAGâ thing would be different, but he still wanted them to feel included. Marc gravitated towards Alex. He was also from Catalonia, he was a rookie, he was only a few years younger than Marc, and he was Valentinoâs teammate.Â
So he thought it would be logical to invite Alex into their little circle over Dovi. But when he reached out to Alex with the offer he was met with an awful text with Alex saying he wasnât that type of fag, he actually had a job and career and things to do on a race weekend and he wasnât looking to feed into Marcâs silly delusions of being important.
âAlex! Alex! Alex!â Marc is dive bombing straight onto Alexâs bed when he gets back from the race that weekend. Waking up Alex bright and early at 5:30, forgetting that while Marc would be allowed to skip school that day, Alex would not be given the same grace.Â
But nothing could stop Marcâs excitement right now âHe knew who I was! He knew who I was!â Alex throws a pillow at him to get him to shut up, but that doesnât work. âWho knows who you are?â He mutters, still half asleep.
âVale!â That wakes up Alex like a cold bucket of water âYou met Valentino Rossi?â His eyes nearly pop out of his head as Marc beams, âYes! They got me to give him a model of his rally car, and he signed one for me!â Marc produces the signed car and the photo of him with Valentino. Alex looks over the photo as Marc keeps talking, âAnd he saw me! And he went ahhhh, so you are the brave Marc. Which means heâs watched me race! Which means I have to do even better and make him proud! And then someday Iâll race with him!â Marc gasps as ideas rush into his head âMaybe we could even be teammates! Wouldnât that make me so cool! Iâd be a way better teammate than Lorenzo!â   Â
Alex's fingers trace over the photo, as Marc keeps rambling, he was so close to achieving what theyâve dreamed about since they were kids. Marc falls back onto the bed, looking up at his shelf full of Valentinoâs bikes âHe soooo pretty to Alex, the photos donât do him justice, even from far away, up close, heâs the prettiest person everâÂ
For some reason, there is a pit in Alexâs stomach as he dares to ask, âOh, are boys allowed to be pretty?â At church, it was always a boy who was meant to find girls pretty and girls who find boys handsome; anything else was a sin. Marc hums, thinking it over for a moment, âI think so. Bikes are beautiful, so of course the people who ride them would be pretty too.â he rushes to add âBut Vale is the prettiest!â
With that, the floodgates are opened, and Alex admits, âNo! Dovi is way prettier!â Marc is outraged, âNo, heâs not! His hair is sooo dumb, and heâs so skinny.â Alex scoffs, âSo is Vale!â and from there they quickly devolved into a pillow fight.
And with that, itâs the last time anyone in the Marquezâs household talks about sexuality until, like a bull in a china shop riding the high of his first premier class championship, Marc finally brings home the girl heâd been talking about all year. That girl is none other than Valentino Rossi.Â
To make a long story short, Valentino walked in on Marc crying, saw the text and come summer break, Alex had lost his ride, his career was only saved by Dovi pulling some strings and another rider suffering a well-timed injury.Â
Alex wasted no time blaming Marc.Â
Marc wasted no time telling everyone the truth about Alex. Â
That was that.                  Â
So he was looking forward to getting a chance for a redo today.
Franky had said he passed on his information and the meeting time to his boyfriend, and now Marc was here, waiting outside of their motorhome, leaning on his crutches. Valentino, ever the sweetheart, offered to stay if only to support Marcâs weight, allowing him to leave behind at least one crutch, but it was tradition that Marc would do this alone in his experience; it helped the new girlfriend (in this case boyfriend) be more comfortable around him.Â
A ping of discomfort came through his right shoulder; it had been doing that for days on and off. He must have been sleeping on it weirdly. Maybe the team physios could take a look at it as a favour, thank god he wasnât a rider if his body was already falling apart at 32. He can only imagine how it would be if he were a rider dealing with the aches and pain, but deep down, heâs sure winning would soothe that. Normally Marc would be pissed to be finishing in second place but today he knows that doesnât matter. Because today he won one thing heâd being chase for so long, the thing he was willing to give up his arm for, hugging the trophy, confetti falling in his hair, reaching for his younger br-          Â
He must be stuck in his own head since suddenly someone is snapping his fingers in his face, punctuated by a loud âHello!â Itâs Mig, Marc is caught off guard, he doesnât know why Valentinoâs students always made him feel included in their group; it was Marc who felt weird about it since they didnât have anything in common beyond their love of Valentino. âOh, hey Mig, whatâs up?â Yet he still wanted to be a safe person for the boys to turn to. Him and Valentino didnât want kids after all, they had the academy that was enough for them.
âOh, he didnât tell you, did he?â Marc shakes his head. Was this one of Migâs Youtube things? Had Valentino just forgotten to mention it? That wasnât like him. Valentino would always make sure Marc knew if he was needed for any press things, knowing Marc liked to stick to his routine when it came to things like that.Â
âWell, Iâm sorry my boyfriend is being so mean, but you're giving me the grand tour this weekend. And I want to be added to that WhatsApp group like now, because I know you rule it with an iron fist, and I also know that chat has all the good gossip." It takes Marc a moment for his brain to hard reset before he finally says, âWait, youâre Frankyâs boyfriend?â Mig smiles so widely he almost looks like any one of the Academy kids turning up to the Ranch for the first time, not that Marc understood that to him it was just a very nice house that became his home but to them it was a place of worship. âYep, he finally got the balls to ask me out.âÂ
âSo you never found the balls to do it?â Marc ruffles his hair, happy that those two kids finally worked it out. âWell, maybe Iâm just like you, Iâm made to be chased after.â Bless those kids, Valentino loved sharing their love story, whenever he was drunk, everyone in the academy must know it by heart. Even if some days to Marc it felt like nothing more than a haze of clubs and maybe some underage drinking on Marcâs end in the US, at least he thinks thatâs how it happened, he should ask Valentino about it. Heâd make things clear. Â
He giggles, a blush forming over his face, before a moment of weakness slips through. âYou donât have to do this just to please Vale or Franky, I get it if you think itâs like lame or whatever. You were a rider, you know everything Iâm going to sayâ
Mig gasped, âNo, are you kidding me. Marc, this shit is iconic, you know how many people under my Valentino episode were solely commenting about asking for you on the show so I could ask you about this tour. When I tell them I was here, theyâre going to lose their mind; this is going to matter way more than my time as a rider.â Then Mig paused for a moment, as if thinking about what to say before he admitted with a shrug, âPlus I want to feel included in things, I know Iâm not a rider anymore. I wanna learn how to do this for Franky's sake. I know I have to be his boyfriend, Mig. Not the former rider, Andrea Migno. And I know you can teach me that.â Marc didnât realise how much he needed that pep talk until it was out of Migâs mouth. It was nice to hear someone value what he did; heâd given this sport so much emotional labour and tied his brand to it despite still not really knowing how the bikes work. Yet the doubt is still there, âAre you sure? I was never a rider, Mig. I donât know what that transition is like.â         Â
âIâm sure. Valentino was the king on the track, but you always ruled the paddock. Now come on, Marc, youâve been here long enough. Tell me the rules about this sport.â Mig has linked his arm into Marcâs, allowing Marc to both throw some of his weight on Mig and means he only has to take one crutch with him, the other resting on the side of the motorhome. All in All, the whole thing gets a well-needed laugh out of Marc. âWell, you donât really need to know the rules, really, you just need to leave it to them, itâs their domain after all.â Mig snorts. âBut come on, I'll show you to the place where we all freshen up, and you can meet the rest of the girls. You're one of us now after all. Letâs see if we can save your under-eyes at all.âÂ
They both smile and laugh as Mig helps Marc hobble his way around the paddock, giving the same tour heâs given to so many wide-eyed women before, throwing in the story of how he thought Yamaha only made pianos before he met Vale. Despite the fact that Mig has heard it before, he laughs like itâs his first time hearing the story.Â
Deep down, heâs so glad that Mig is the first boyfriend heâs giving this tour to. Alex wouldnât appreciate it in the same way.   Â
~
The next few days are spent putting together the pieces of this life, and the more Alex finds out, the more he feels like this is home. They sit there poring over photo albums and phone photo libraries, and all Alex sees is a good life, where he slowly sees himself grow up with Aleix and Pol and at some point Jorge joins their little gang. For a while, he and Alex are all over each other like glue, and admittedly, Alex has avoided going through all their messages, just in case. Jorge might be one of his best friends here, but that doesnât mean Alex wants to see everything.
As for Dovi his life was closely tied to Alex more than anything else, he was firmly the âdadâ of the group and often times his time seems split between dirt bikes, test riding for Ducati and supporting Alex at his races especially near the end of 2025 where the race between him and Marco seemed as if it might come down to the wire, Dovi was by Alexâs side for every single race, even being his umbrella girl. It was a far cry from Marc who went through multiple stages where Dovi was only allowed to come near Marc in the comfort of his motorhome under the cover of darkness to not alert the press.Â
Alex could see the way joy leaked into Doviâs eyes; he liked being seen as a true partner and equal, like he was getting paid back for all the sacrifices he made, yet Alex knew that he would never admit it out loud. He loves Marc too much for that. Perhaps that was his greatest flaw, wanting to love a man who could physically not love anything more than he loved racing and winning. Alex didnât say that out loud instead he says, âSo, it seems like weâre a pretty touchy couple. Are you okay with keeping that up this weekend?â
âAlex, it's weird! I see you like a little brother, it's just weird to think about you like that!â Is it? Is it really? Alex thinks is he just that unlovable compared to Marc?
Itâs 2018, there is no doubt in his mind that Marc will win the world championship, and Alex has one simple request: âYou should invite Dovi to your championship party.â Marc hums, not looking up from the data spread across the table, âI havenât won the championship yet.â Alex sits down next to him, resting his head on Marcâs shoulder âYeah, but you will.â
âYou donât know that.â Alex rolls his eyes, head butting Marcâs neck. He just restates his point, âYou should invite Dovi to your championship party.â He canât say the rest of it out loud Marc would tease him for it, something or other about how liking old men must run in the family. Marc had won enough championships now that the Valentino of it all could be a bit of a dark family joke most days. Â
Marc finally looks up from the data, bucking Alexâs head off his shoulder in the process. Alex looks at Marc and sees the smile that has found its way across his face, and before he can process anything else. Marc says, âWell, I would hope my boyfriend would be at my championship party.â And he starts laughing, almost shaking the couch through sheer force, leaving Alex no choice but to laugh along. How could he not? Marc looked truly happy again.
âSince when!â That came out of Alex like a sheer manic shout. Marc then told him casually like this wasnât life changing news and something closer to the weather. âLast race, turns out with nothing else to do during a cancelled race is the best time for him to find the balls to ask me to dinner.â The light was back in Marcâs eyes. Alex couldnât snuff that out, so he feigns happiness âWhy didnât you tell me?!â One day, heâll be happy for Marc and Dovi; he knows it.
Marc just shrugs, âI wanted to make sure it was real. Before getting mine or anyone else's hopes up,â After everything Marc deserved to be happy, âAnd is it?â The way Marc smiles and starts ranting about the dinner Dovi cooked for him, tells Alex everything. There were other fish in the sea after all, maybe Luca was still looking to escape Valentinoâs shadow by running into Alexâs bed.
âYou're worried about Marc, right?â Dovi nods, Alex lands the killing blow âSo you have to come to check on him! You know how Valentino gets, and maybe seeing you might snap him out of whatever this is!â They found Marcâs Instagram and while both Dovi and Alexâs accounts were blocked, one fake account later proved that Marc was alive and in love with Valentino. Cele of all people declaring them âcouple goalsâ alongside a photo of them cuddling on a couch together. Marcâs moonboot is the only thing tethering this Marc to Alexâs Marc. The Marc on his screen lacked so much muscle, but also his right arm looked perfect. He doesnât want to think about what that means.
Dovi looks down for a moment, he sees the life Alex and he have made together, and it feels so wrong. He swallows down his discomfort for Marc, no one else âOkay. Iâll go, we'll be a happy couple and save Marc.âÂ
Alex nods along, and suddenly he has two goals for the weekend: to save Marc and prove to Dovi that a life with Alex wouldnât be that bad.Â
There was just one fault in this plan, that being Fermin. Who is knocking at their door on Wednesday, the day before the race, suitcases in hand. Alex rolls out of the master bedroom with his hair a mess and wearing a shirt he swiped from what he assumes is Doviâs side of the closet, as of course, Dovi would be willing to be a happy couple in the paddock, but he was enough of a gentleman to take the guest bedroom. Alex didnât push his luck by arguing that they should share.Â
As the knocking continues, he wishes that he had read the flight manifesto more closely, because here Alex, not Marc, was the one who booked the private jets. He gets to the door and finds Fermin, who rather quickly announces, âOh, for fuck sake, do not tell me I walked in on you two fucking again. I was even good this time! I didn't even use my key.â Alex just nods along, back from where he came, he would consider Fermin his closest friend besides Marc, but not close enough to get a key to his house or ride with him on a jet.
âWhy are you here so early?â Thatâs all Alex is able to mutter in his half-asleep state. Fermin scoffs âJust because you're some fancy factory rider now does not mean you can get out of feeding me, Nadia told you to look after me, remember? And Dovi makes the best breakfast spread in townâ Which make sense if he thinks back hard enough Nadia in his other life gave him the same speech, Alex is scared to admit it but the more time he spends here the less he even wants to think about his past life, it's a sirens call he knows it he has to ignore it to save Marc but god to fall into the water for just a moment feels so nice.Â
Alex plays his part, rolls his eyes and lets Fermin in. âYou got here before Dovi got up. Iâll go get him so he can start on your breakfast.â Fermin smiles, which can only mean trouble. âTell him to get a move on. I have Jorge updates!â
Alex nods, not knowing what heâs meant to answer with and slips off to get Dovi, who he quickly shakes awake, filling him in, âFermin is here, he wants you to make breakfast, heâll be flying with us.â He looks down at Doviâs phone, which he hasnât switched off; heâs stalking Marcâs mediocre modelling photos, so in a rushed whisper, Alex adds âand remember you love me.â In another context, it would be cruel, but Dovi doesnât take it as such; he just rubs sleep from his eyes and hums, âGive me five minutes, Lex?âÂ
Alex nods, drags his eyes off his abs and heads back out to Fermin, who is in the kitchen playing with the dogs âWhat did Dovi do this time to end up in the doghouse?â Alex is over by the coffee machine, half listening to âWhat?â He wants to surprise Dovi with coffee, and thankfully, due to years of living together, Alex knows just how he takes it. âHeâs sleeping in the guestroom.â Itâs not like I want him to sleep in there, Alex wants to say, but instead he just shakes his head, reaching for a lie. âHeâs not in the doghouse, he just got home late, and I think he crashed on the first comfortable flat surface he found.â
Fermin doesnât buy it âOh no, surely he must be in the doghouse. Normally you two fuck like rabbits, drunk or sober.â The coffee machine comes to life, and Alex has to push past this topic as quickly as possible before Fermin tastes blood in the water, so he tries to use context clues "Enough about my sex life now, tell me about you and Jorgeâsâ
Which gets Fermin to dramatically huff, âThatâs the problem! There is none!â Thankfully for Fermin, and his personal suffering regarding his own love life, Dovi comes inside, having quickly splashed water on his face and sadly for Alex, put on actual clothes. He smiles and then hands Dovi his coffee, and before he can talk himself out of it, he takes his chance and kisses Dovi. THey had an audience to perform to after all.
In truth, itâs nothing more than a short peck, but for Alex, it feels like the world is finally coming back to his centre like a missing puzzle piece being picked up from behind the couch and finally being placed into the puzzle, completing it.Â
It feels perfect.
 Itâs the quickest kiss Alex has ever had in his life, and yet itâs the best one by a mile; itâs made all the better when Alex and his newfound confidence also grips hard onto Doviâs ass.     Â
âGayyyyyyyyyyyyyyâ Fermin loudly announces in a sing-song tone. The sheer absurdity gets Dovi to laugh, hiding the blush that must come from the shock of Alex actually kissing him, while Alex says, âAt least Iâm getting some!â Which feels so out of character but so right. Especially when Fermin laughs as he flips in off and things feel like this is how it should always be..Â
Later on Thursday, long after they made it to the paddock, Fermin caught Alex up on his pining for Jorge, which Alex thinks is more funny than anything. Much more funny than Alex learning he still has to have increased security in Mugello because Valentinoâs fans were assholes no matter the universe.Â
Heâs outside his motorhome for some air, waiting to meet up with Dovi, who was due at some sponsorship's event that Alex was explicitly not invited to. When he's reminded of how wrong everything truly is.
Itâs a short moment that Alex only assumes he sees because the crutch Marc is using has slowed him down to a degree. But he still sees it, Marc and Mig walking through the paddock arm in arm, with Marc pointing out mundane things any rider would know. Thankfully, Valentino isnât present, but itâs a gut punch seeing how visibly Marc has changed in real life rather than just on a screen. Marc is so much smaller, he lacks the muscles of a rider, while Alex guesses he looks younger, he canât help but think he looks relentlessly bored like heâs left with energy he doesnât know what to do with.Â
Marc doesnât see him, at least Alex thinks he doesn't; he never looks at him once. Yet Mig does. He glares at Alex like heâs less than the dirt on his shoe, which, truthfully, isnât that unusual. What is unusual is how he pulls Marc closer, whispering something in his ear then him and Marc turns walking in the other direction as far away from Alex as possible.
At that moment, Alex knows no matter how good Doviâs lips feel on his or how nice it is to have two older brothers in the form of Aleix and Pol or a younger brother in Fermin.
But right now more than anything, Alex wants his actual brother back, standing here watching Marc walk away, heâs back to being five and needing Marc like he needed the air he breathes.Â
i love when itâs bad forever.. i think the only time i was like âVALE CALL HIMMMâ was when casey went to the ranch but besides that i love their eternal feud. whenâs heâs your wound that never heals đ and youâre his đđ
no genuinely it would be wildlyyyy less interesting to me if they got over it like brocedes doesnt do it for me remotely bc they seem to largely have moved on. they can bump into each other in the hall give a thumbs up keep it moving. by contrast rosquez is earnestly very weird about it to this day and have about a million personal neuroses about each other that mean they act like CRAZY PEOPLE about each other in singular ways
i still do think about vale telling suzi perry maybe he'll get over sepang in "twenty, thirty years" and then marc saying the EXACT same thing in an interview with the ITALIAN PRESS two years later. like these guys are probably moving in terms of public coded messages to each other that we can't clock in CRAZY ways
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