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catpriciousmarjara · 2 months

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DP X DC: Dani Does Things and Leaves, Explains Nothing

Heavily inspired by this dp x dc prompt and the comments and reblogs under it:

Please go check it out and @stealingyourbones entire page. They have some great dp x dc content and meta.

Local Ghost Princess Decides to Help Out Fellow Clone, Leaves Chaos Behind, Heroes Left Concerned and Very Confused, More at 10.

Now Dani knew that this world had superheroes. She knew they had an organization of sorts that had a hate-hate relationship with various government entities and a love-hate relationship with the public, depending on who you asked. However she had no intention of being involved with them. She was on vacation after all. Besides this world was just a stopover anyway. Why bother when she wasn't here on official business? But it seemed that while she didn't want anything to do with the heroes, they, however inadvertently, wanted something to do with her. How else will you explain one of the worst cloning results she had ever seen crash into a tree right in front of her while she was enjoying a nice cup of litchi boba tea in the park?

The botched clone job slid down the branches and hit the ground with a thud. She raised an eyebrow at the the rampant malevolent magical lines running through the body exacerbating the overall instability of the clone's anatomy. Clearly this individual had run into an irate mage who cast some sort of destabilizing curse and shot them right out of the sky. Dani was thankful this was an isolated section of the park and that she had put a rudimentary avoidance ward over the area. Otherwise, a superhero crashing into a tree would've caused quite the ruckus and interrupted her boba time.

She took a sip of her boba and crouched down to examine the conked out hero. This one was the one they called Superboy wasn't he? She grimaced at the state of his engineering. Whoever did his cloning did not know what they were dealing with. Her own cloning went better and she was ectoplasmic goop half the time. And Vlad was dealing with halfa DNA! Probably the most complicated genetic material in existence. Superboy over here was constructed from actual tangible genetic sources and yet...ugh.

Honestly speaking beings of this plane probably wouldn't have noticed anything wrong. A level down in power scale compared to the individual who acted as genetic donor, most likely that Superman guy, and random instances of destabilization would most likely be the extend of their knowledge regarding their faulty cloning. And when those instances of instability gradually ironed themselves out they probably patted themselves on the back and thought all was well. She should cut them some slack.

Dani hummed as she chewed on her boba pearls. Unfortunately she wasn't known to be the most merciful when it came to ensuring the well-being of clones.

Suckers probably didn't pick up the fact they unleashed a possible catastrophe upon their world. Superboy was obviously fashioned from Kryptonian DNA. A species known for becoming near godlike upon absorbing solar energy from a yellow sun. That means that their bodies have mechanisms at play beyond simple biology. Specifically energy pathways and an energy processing core. Superboy wasn't a level down in power from Superman because of some biological imperfection, he was weaker because of flawed energy absorption and storage. And that meant that his energy core was unbalanced, and once it reached a particular threshold...well its gonna be a spectacular light show this side of the galaxy that's for sure. Of course it was just a possibility. There was no guarantee he would reach that threshold in his lifetime. Unless he ran into a white mage who was vicious enough to cast a juiced up imbalance curse that is. And what do you know! Turns out you can organically be that unlucky!

She put down her cup and ran a simple diagnostics. Sure enough the magic had intensified the issue. This man needed help, the kind of help that wasn't usually available in this part of the omniverse. But she just so happened to pass by and just so happened to have expertise in this field so today was somehow simultaneously Superboy's lucky and unlucky day. He really was going through it.

As to why she would interfere that's easy. She was the Guardian of Cloned Beings after all. She can't have a fellow clone suffer could she? And plus, what were the chances that he would end up like this right in front of one of the only beings that would know how to fix the issue? Dani grinned in glee. Truly the laws of causality worked in intriguing ways.

She stood up and let her talons manifest, plucking the strings of SuperboyConnerKon-el's make and striking them one by one in the tune of an old Krytonian melody. Shame what happened to them really, but all things had their fate. It truly was great to see some of them survive and make a home elsewhere. Dani wished them the best.

As she worked, untangling knots, and straightening out blockages, the hero finally began to stir. His eyes opened and they were understandably unfocused. Disoriented and confused, he looked kinda like a bamboozled Cujo and Dani felt her lips twitch up in a toothy smile. For some reason that seemed to startle him. She mentally frowned. Did he expect her not to smile at him? That would've been rude of her. Dani might be a gremlin but she was never impolite.

"I'm just about done with the curse", she told him. "Leaching out the corrosive magic was easy but I need to repair your energy coils and that's tricky. Don't worry though. Everything's on the house. Always did have a soft spot for the House of El ever since my aunt married into it for a short while."

Dani pulled a particularly stubborn power node open. "I would like your permission before doing that through. Body autonomy, informed decisions and and all! So yes or no? You'd detonate like a bomb if I didn't though."

The young hero's eyes widened. He still didn't seem to know what was going on so she hit him with a short term clarity spell. And a small information spell to cover her bases. That got him to gather his wits enough and she watched as he processed the influx of information. His complexion was ashen when he got through the bundle and he finally managed a shaky nod. Good enough.

Dani smiled at the Kryptonian. "Great! Now this would take like twenty minutes give or take five. You can sleep now." She promptly knocked him out cold and cancelled the spells so as to not overload his brain.

And just as she predicted, twenty minutes later, she plucked the last string with a flick of her wrist and surveyed her handiwork. Exemplary if she said so herself. One of her best work! Cheerfully she shot an awakening spell at Kon-el and crouched down again, patting his head.

"You might need to be careful for a few days while your body adjusts to its new energy capacity and conductivity. Your overall system has been optimized as well so be careful", she told the groggy young man.

She paused. "And don't worry. I didn't access your mind. This was all strictly physical repair aimed at preventing you from exploding like a supernova and taking the planet with you."

And once again that part made his eyes widen. Good. He truly understood the urgency. Or that could just be him being loopy after solar energy overload. It was a bright, sunny day after all.

She stood up, creating a portal to the next world on her itinerary. She looked back at the most likely high as a kite Kryptonian. "You kinda owe me for all that extra work hero! I might just come to collect one of these days!", she joked as the portal swallowed her body and she was lost to the spaces between spaces.

She'd already told him it was all on the house so Dani didn't think that anyone would take that last part seriously. However she forgot the fact that one Conner Kent was in her own words 'high as a kite' and hence might miss some crucial details.

She also forgot to leave behind an explanation packet.

And thus she was utterly unaware of the chaos she left in her wake, happily traveling through the multiverse.

..............................................................................................................................

"So you're telling me that not only did someone find me when I was out cold and get rid of the spell, but they also rearranged my guts and gave me an upgrade?"

"...Yeah."

"What the fuck?"

..............................................................................................................................

"Conner, do you remember anything? Anything at all? Whatever they did required some serious magical power. We don't know why they did it or how. For all we know they could've done something dangerous that we can't detect yet."

"Litchi boba tea".

"Kon what the hell?"

..............................................................................................................................

"...Its in bits and pieces...but I'm pretty sure there was a woman?...white hair, green eyes...something something on the house...something about an aunt and the House of El?...and there was this strange white symbol on her chest and this really soft music was playing that went something like this...(confused humming noises)...and something about me owing her?"

"Kara? Why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong?"

..............................................................................................................................

"Let me get this straight, Superboy was healed by the Kryptonian primordial goddess of portals, messengers, travelers and other such domains, and not only did she save him but also gave him a tune up? And explicitly said that he owes her now? And this powerful divine being, who is also supposed to be the daughter of Krypton's Death God according to legends mind you, is most likely still on earth with motives unknown? Plus your entire House is descended from her family?"

"...Yeah that about sums it up."

"..."

..............................................................................................................................

"Oh man why did this happen just when I was going to go on vacation? Why couldn't the Death God or whatever reschedule?"

"Death gods notoriously don't reschedule, they're death gods. Also she's the daughter of a death god, not one herself. Most death gods are also famously fair. If not fair by our standards, fair by theirs".

"...That's good to know?"

"I confess I don't know about the fairness of children of death gods however".

"...great. Thanks anyway J'onn".

"You're welcome".

..............................................................................................................................

"You okay there man? Someone just rifled through your body and did who knows what...that's gotta be terrifying. You want to talk? We're all here for you, you know that right?"

" Thanks guys. And yeah it was freaky. But apparently I would've exploded and blown up the planet with me if she didn't do that so I guess I'm more grateful than scared."

"...Explode and blown up the what now?"

..............................................................................................................................

"Is there anything more we should know about Clark?"

"Legends say she has a brother and he's associated with great calamities?"

"...."

"Bruce? You alright?"

..............................................................................................................................

DPXDC refuses to be done with me. Leave me be accursed crossover! Leave me be!

(Btw Kon didn't make the connection because he was really out of it, and not because Clark and Kara didn't introduce him to Kryptonian culture.)

Thoughts and suggestions are welcome!

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heliads · 5 months

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angel boy charles leclerc with a workplace romance?? maybe r’s new on the ferrari pr team or an engineer who he keeps flirting with but she’s kinda shy so she doesn’t rly flirt back and doesn’t know why he’d want her over everyone, but then he defends her against some shitty reporters who keep making jokes abt her and she realizes oh he actually does like me and SHE asks HIM out?? obvs it’s cool if you don’t wanna write this but either way i think you’re really cool and i hope you’re day’s goin great!

'here's what i know' - charles leclerc

masterlist

It’s time for the one part of the week that Formula One teams across the grid detest most of all. No, it’s not qualifying, and not even the threat of a bad race day that can crush championship dreams for good. Today is Thursday, media day, which means that twenty drivers and many more members of staff are about to be hounded for hours until they break down and spill something they shouldn’t.

Since you’re not a driver, you had always hoped that you’d be able to get out of these sorts of things without too much difficulty. No one pays much attention to the engineers anyway– outside of Adrian Newey and the like, the guys behind the scenes tend to be ignored in favor of the ones in the cars, although you don’t know many engineers or strategists that have a problem with that.

No, the baying mass of reporters known affectionately to the paddock as Sky Sports and their affiliates are more of a difficulty than a blessing. Each and every race week, drivers and team principals alike are briefed by their PR officers on how to dodge bad questions and only stick to their strengths. For one of the first years in your career, though, you now have to deal with the same thing, and that is due to your recent promotion.

You’ve been a race engineer for a couple of years now, and you’ve loved every minute of it. Every STEM-inclined student with a hankering for racing dreams of working for Formula One, but you actually managed to turn those fantasies into a reality when you signed your first contract with the Scuderia Ferrari racing team. It wasn’t a showy job, of course, closer to tightening screws and redoing paint jobs than anything specific, but over time, you’ve managed to show your worth and quickly rise through the ranks.

As of this season, though, you’ll be out on the pitwall as Ferrari’s chief strategists instead of tucked away somewhere in the garage. It was a risky move when you decided to throw your hat into the strategy ring instead of sticking with the more technical aspects of race engineering, but you’ve had a knack for it ever since you first turned up in the paddock, and the higher-ups at Ferrari have noticed that. This promotion has been a long time coming, so they say.

Regardless, it’s still a bit stressful to be the face of Ferrari’s strategy decisions, especially given the fact that the Scuderia has struggled a bit in that department over the past few seasons. The Tifosi were definitely hesitant to show their support of the change in leadership, but after your critical advice led to some excellent showings in the first few rounds, you won them over in a landslide. No more terrible back-to-back stops, no more team orders mixups, you’ve proven your effectiveness in the strategy seat and everyone is glad to see it.

Well, almost everyone. The reporters are still as fixated as ever on getting a good story, and for some reason a couple have decided that the best headlines are centered around creating drama regarding your new job assignment. It feels like every week they’re running stories about how the Ferrari team principal wishes you weren’t there, or how Charles and Carlos are shaking their heads over each and every one of your bad calls.

This, of course, isn’t the case. Ferrari couldn’t be happier with your decisions since they’ve propelled the team up in the championship standings, and you get along quite well with the drivers. Charles especially has taken it upon himself to reassure you countless times that the rumors couldn’t be less true. Some of the reporters have a way of twisting their words from compliments into insults, but he wants to ensure that you never believe them.

Charles has been one of the greatest parts of your climb to head of strategy at Ferrari, actually. You met him when you were the lowliest of engineers, and for some reason, he’s stayed a friend of yours ever since that very first day. Truthfully, you hadn’t expected him to so much as remember your name– there are infinitely many engineers and strategists and PR workers at Ferrari, after all, and Charles is introduced to dozens of new celebrities at every race– but the very next time he saw you, he’d smiled and greeted you by name as if you were an old friend.

It had made your day. Same with the next time he’d done it. Although you may not entirely understand it, Charles Leclerc is committed to liking you, and he doesn’t seem inclined to stop any time soon. Nor are you inclined to stop him yourself– Charles is a fantastic person to be around. He’s never let his fame get to his head, and if you were to talk to him, you’d swear he was just a friend from uni or a next door neighbor or something, certainly not a world class driver. Charles doesn’t talk to you like he’s a Formula One driver and you’re a strategist. He speaks with you like he’s Charles and you’re Y/N and he couldn’t want anything more than to hear you laugh when he tells a joke.

Armed with this knowledge, you feel that you could take on any reporter, their tendency to warp simple statements into crazy arguments be damned. What’s more, you have an excellent friend in Hannah Schmitz, Principal Strategy Engineer over at Red Bull Racing. Although the two of you may technically be on rival teams, that hasn’t stopped you from becoming close friends. Hannah is one of the only people in the world capable of understanding exactly how you feel regarding work, as she’s in almost the same position as you, albeit on Red Bull instead of Ferrari. She’s older than you by a good couple of years, but that hasn’t stopped you two from quickly growing close.

For Thursday’s media frenzy, Hannah meets up with you close to the gate so you can walk in together. The Ferrari and Red Bull motorhomes are close by, and it’s nice to have a friend while you brave the storm of reporters waiting for you just inside the paddock.

The first round of them draws near. Hannah grins at your obviously forced smile. “Stay alert. They’re coming.”

“I’ll do my best,” you whisper back, and she hides a laugh.

You don’t have much time for inside jokes after that; a dozen phones and recording devices are flung in front of you, and you’re immediately greeted with several overlapping questions. You answer in quick syllables, all the while careful to keep your tone light so no one accuses you of being unnecessarily terse. You feel confident that you didn’t say anything to dull your team’s image, but you still can’t help a sigh of relief when you bid Hannah goodbye at the door of the Ferrari motorhome.

Upon entering the Ferrari center, you immediately spy Charles at one of the tables near the door. He glances up when he sees you enter, and flashes you a kind smile. “You look stressed. Don’t tell me Sky Sports has gotten to you already?”

You laugh. “They were waiting for me when I arrived. Man, I miss when they had no idea who I was.”

Charles chuckles. “I don’t. You’re more interesting to see on my screen than some of the other drivers.”

You scoff. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

Charles’ eyes widen meaningfully. “It’s true! You actually have things to say. The rest of us can only talk about how we plan on winning. Everyone says that.”

You walk over to his table, leaning your hands against the open chair. “If you paid attention during strategy meetings, you’d have something to say to them, too.”

Charles rolls his eyes, but grins sheepishly nonetheless. “How about you fill me in now, then? Come on, have a seat. I’m sure my PR officer would appreciate it if I didn’t go out there sounding like a total idiot.”

You shake your head on instinct. “You’re relaxing. I don’t want to take up your time.”

“I mean it,” Charles insists. “Sit down. I even have extra coffee.”

“That’s certainly a nice coincidence,” you say with a raised brow, but take the seat he offers you.

Charles smiles satisfiedly when you join him. “Yes,” he murmurs, “A coincidence.”

You end up passing more time than you expect at Charles’ table, just the two of you and the coffees cooling in your mugs. At first, you do talk about strategy, but over time Charles starts coaxing more details out of you, like what you’ve done since the past week and if you’ve got any plans for the upcoming weekend. He sounds genuinely interested in what you have to say, and it’s easy to forget that he isn’t just your coworker but a real, true friend.

You glance down at the table when the intensity of his earnest stare becomes a little too much for you. You know how the other strategists talk and tease you about your friendship with Charles, even if it is just that, a friendship. Yes, he may bring you coffee all the time, and eagerly stay back after strategy meetings so he can walk you out to your car, but he’s just doing that to be nice. It doesn’t mean anything. You cannot allow yourself the hope of thinking that it might mean anything.

After all, despite the denials you’ll give the other strategists and even Hannah when she has the occasion to join in the teasing, you wouldn’t mind it if Charles ever acted on his flirtations. The only problem is that you have made a career out of being realistic and reasonable, and you know that this is one perfect victory that just won’t be yours. Charles is gorgeous. He goes after gorgeous girls, stunning supermodels, and amazing actresses. You are lovely in your own right, but you aren’t the kind of person that a Formula One driver would ever date. It is important to keep your heart from being crushed, even if denying this hurts you more than Charles’ rejection ever could.

That little coffee chat ends soon enough, much like every other quick lunch and early morning talk you’ve shared with him. Charles goes off to his garage, and you head out to your office to prepare some talking points for meetings later that day. The drivers will be escorted to media day press conferences, and you probably won’t run into Charles again until later into the afternoon.

You realize about halfway through the day’s work that you haven’t gotten up once since you arrived. In need of a brain break and a chance to stretch your legs, you decide to go for a quick circuit around the paddock before coming back inside again to carry on. The sun is warm on your face when you dare to duck outside, and it feels good to walk around for a little while.

Unconsciously, your legs carry you towards the building where the press conferences are being held. Not wanting to intrude, you decide to head back towards the center of the paddock. While you’re in the middle of making this decision, though, you notice Charles emerging from the building. You switch directions to aim towards him instead; you can joke about the nightmare that is a Formula One press conference, and you know Charles will be glad to let off some steam by complaining.

As you’re walking over, you notice a few reporters coming out of the building as well and groan internally. These couple of men in particular have been nothing but thorns in your side since you accepted your promotion. When the news first broke, they wrote a couple of articles apiece about how you were going to run Ferrari into the ground. When that proved false, they switched tactics and decided to use their journalism skills to disparage you whenever they got the chance. Numerous drivers and reporters alike have called them out for targeting you, but they haven’t stopped yet, which is frustrating.

Charles notices the reporters at the same time as you, you can see his head turn as he tracks their progress. You’re close enough now that you can hear what they’re saying, but it isn’t good. They never get tired of repeating the same bullshit about how you can’t make a smart call to save your life. One of them laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. That’s what you get for putting a girl in charge.

Hot anger boils through your stomach, but you force it down. They haven’t seen you yet, and you’d like to keep it that way. Challenging them on this will only provide them with more ammunition.

Charles, however, doesn’t seem to see it that way. He stops directly in front of the two reporters, arms folded coldly across his chest. “What did you say about Y/N?”

The reporter who’d just spoken eyes him confusedly. “Nothing, man. Don’t worry about it.”

“I will if you’re insulting her,” Charles fires back. “Don’t talk about her like that. Y/N is a welcome part of Ferrari and her strategy decisions have won us races, as you well know. I don’t know what you get out of taking her down but it’s stupid of you to carry on like that.”

The reporter blanches, leaning back as if Charles has struck him. “Calm down, man. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Charles’ glare doesn’t lighten for a second. “Then stop talking badly about her. It just makes you look like an asshole who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. That’s what you are, of course, but maybe you want your reputation to be better.”

You clap a hand to your mouth to stop from letting out a surprised laugh. He’s totally caught them off guard, and it’s fantastic to see. More fantastic than that, you realize slowly, is that Charles is doing this purely to defend your honor. There are no cameras around. No one is recording him. Charles could have just ignored it, but he chose to go out of his way to defend you because that matters the most to him. Because he would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t spend his every waking hour making sure you got the respect you were owed.

Charles doesn’t have to do this, but he wants to. There is a reason for this, a reason that, at last, you know. You’ve been denying it to yourself for the longest time, but the proof of his affections is right before your eyes.

You spin away before he can notice your presence, giddy with the knowledge that, of all the people in the world, Charles Leclerc wants you. You. Y/N L/N. His chief strategist.

You nearly run into Hannah when you pass by the Red Bull motorhome. She’s just emerging, and looks at you confusedly. “Is everything alright?”

“Hannah,” you say, grasping vaguely at your friend’s arm to steady yourself. “Hannah, I’m having an epiphany.”

She eyes you dubiously. “What now? You want to change your tire strategy for Sunday?”

“No,” you say, voice weak, “I realized– I think Charles likes me, Hannah. I think he likes me a lot.”

She stares at you. “Are you just now coming to this conclusion?”

You turn to her in surprise. “You knew?”

Hannah throws her hands in the air. “Y/N, we all knew. It was extremely obvious.”

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

“That was also obvious,” Hannah comments. “Now, come on. You’re one of the most action-oriented people I know. What are you going to do about this?”

You turn towards the Ferrari motorhome. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Great start,” Hannah says, clapping you on the shoulder. “Tell me how it goes. Tell me everything.”

You grin at her before you leave. “I won’t leave out a single moment.”

Charles has just made it back to the Ferrari center when you arrive. He beams up at you when you walk through the door, as if he hasn’t just heard some assholes insulting you and decided that every moment not spent defending you is a moment wasted.

“Charles,” you breathe. “Can I talk to you?”

He arches a brow, still wearing that same lopsided smile. “We’re talking now, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” you laugh him off. “What if we talked later, too? Like, over dinner or something?”

His eyes go wide. “What? Do you– what do you mean?”

“Charles,” you repeat. He goes silent, like just the sound of his name from your lips is enough to compel him to you forever. “I’m asking you on a date. Will you say yes?”

“Yes,” he tells you. “Yes. What– I didn’t know you felt like that– do you really? This isn’t a joke, is it? We’re not going just as friends?”

“I think I should be asking you that,” you laugh. “No, Charles. I want to go on a date with you.”

“Well,” he says, smiling, “I think I can arrange that. Only if you promise there will be more than just one.”

“I promise,” you tell him.

How could you not? Charles is the one you want, the one you have been wanting since you first fell for the spark in his dark eyes and the light of his laughter. He is the one you will continue to want months and years from now, after countless dates and many gifted flowers and a lot of moments spent together, always together. It starts now.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy, @juphey

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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leclerc-s · 4 months

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paint the town red - part seven

THE PEOPLE'S PRINCE IS VICTORIOUS

series masterlist

MONACO 2024

scuderiaferrari posted new stories

mr. lechair hard at work before media day for the monaco grand prix

pouty chili in his chilli hat

I'M GIVING THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT! YOU ASK FOR SEB CONTENT I GIVE YOU SEB CONTENT!

working hard or hardly working mr. mcqueen?

everyone could sense the pressure ferrari held today. everyone seemed to expect them to lead to charles to victory for the first time at his home race. it's not that it was impossible for them, they could do it, they knew that better than anyone, but they had an entire country counting on them. the pressure had been there for imola, but it was completely different for monaco. time and time again charles had been failed by his team and people hoped this would be the time things would change for the monegasque. everytime victory or a podium had been within his grasps ferrari had found a way to rip that away from him. not this time though, this time things were different, no matter what happened charles leclerc would be on the podium in 1st place at his home grand prix.

the camera's caught the moment sam wilson waved enthusiastically at will buxton. he laughed before approaching sam, who was wearing a ferrari shirt. he had both driver numbers on his shirt, all the avengers and co present did, as a way to support both drivers.

"captain america, a pleasure seeing you at the monaco grand prix," will said. sam smiled, "please, i'm off duty, it's just sam."

"well, sam, how excited are you for the race today?"

"super excited," sam answered. he gestured towards charles garage, "i know those guys are more excited than me, the hometown hero is on pole."

"do you think he'll win today?"

"hell yeah. there is no doubt in my mind about it."

"very well, it was nice talking to you," will said, excusing himself.

"bye!" sam shouted as he walked towards charles garage, most likely to find bucky.

the cameras focused on charles, as he pointed to something, bianca at his side. she gestured towards the wheels and charles nodded.

"it seems charles and his race engineer have great communication this year," will pointed out before he and the cameraman left towards a different garage.

inside the ferrari garage charles turned to bianca, "do you think it'll rain today?"

"yes," the brunette replied, biting her lip, "which is why we're putting you on mediums, that way we can extend our first stint. once it starts to drizzle, eventually leading to harsher rain, we'll pit you for inters. everyone will go for hards, starting on softs, meaning they'll have to pit again for inters."

"you really thought this through didn't you?"

bianca sighed, "i'm running on 3 hours of sleep because harley and i stayed up all night creating a backup plan for every little thing that could go wrong. we have an entire nation's eyes on us, waiting for their prince to be crowned. i needed to have back up plans."

"i'm not a prince," charles laughed.

"you are to them. you're the people's prince, they've been waiting for this victory since 2018. you've been waiting for this moment for so long, i'll be damned if you don't win today."

charles placed a hand on her shoulder, "i trust you, which is saying a lot considering my last engineer. we've got this."

bianca shook her head, "you've got this. you'll win today, i know it."

charles gave her a cheeky smile, "if i win today will you go on that second date with me?"

she laughed, ignoring the fact that there were two super-soldiers with super hearing in the ferrari garage. she was lucky there was too much noise for them to focus on her conversation with charles, "yes."

"great," charles said, "now i know i'll win."

"go get in the car," she ordered, laughing a bit. charles also laughed, "okay."

the moment he sat in the car, he tuned everything and everyone out. it was the same thing he did for every race, but this time it was amplified by 10, nothing and no one would stop him from emerging victorious at his home grand prix for the first time ever. this win wasn't even for him, it was for his papa, who had wished to see charles win their home grand prix. there was a certain determination in him for this race, a determination he hadn't felt in a long time.

"radio check," charles heard bianca's voice.

"do you think you could convince peter to play that one lady gaga song when i win? he knows the one," charles replied. bianca's laughter rang in his ears, "copy."

the five lights went out charles was gone, carlos behind him defending from max. red bull's upgrades seemed to help them out but it wasn't long before carlos was able to get away from him, leaving the red bull in the dust. a safety car during lap 27 allowed ferrari to double stack it's cars, a move that had previously failed them in the past. not this time, the team was ready with both sets of interns, the rain beginning a lap earlier. the other teams having to pit for inters again after already having pitted for hards, just like bianca had predicted.

charles was going to prove to those that had called him a waste of seat last season that he was a great fucking driver. he was going to win his home grand prix. the when didn't matter anymore, after today charles leclerc would be a winner of the monaco grand prix, the first in nearly 100 years to do so. he was going to go down in monaco's history. charles was so focused on his race that he failed to notice the checkered flag, or even hear the crowd roaring in glee and pride.

the ferrari garage had erupted into chaos, bucky was seen lifting arthur onto his shoulders and running out towards the pitwall, sam and steve grabbing lorenzo. pepper stark-potts stands with pascale, comforting the woman who is crying tears of joy. some team members are seen running out, waving the monaco flag high.

"no doubt this has been a dream for charles leclerc, to join the list of monaco grand prix winners! today he does it! charles leclerc adds his name to the list of monaco grand prix winners! the first monegasque in nearly 100 years! charles leclerc is the winner of the monaco grand prix! carlos sainz comes home to make it another 1-2 for the scuderia!"

"CHARLES, YOU ARE THE WINNER OF THE MONACO GRAND PRIX! TU L'AS FAIT!" lorenzo's voice was heard telling charles. charles voice was a mess of italian, french, and english, but one phrase was clear, "we did it papa. we did it."

the car comes to a stop at the parc ferme, where charles jumps out of his car, standing on top of it his finger goes up, a classic nod to sebastian who laughs in the crowd. the camera pans to his family, who stand surrounded by avengers, in the middle of it all, watching him as he basks in his win. carlos and max, who complete the podium, rush to him before he has a chance to jump into the arms of his team. the moment the helmet and balaclava come off, the tears are evident, he jumps into the arms of his team, who slap him congratulating him, they're just as ecstatic as him, they know how long he's waited for this. he ends up in front of his family, all four of them crying together, before he parts ways with them, his mother whispers something to him and he nods. he hugs bianca, the brunette returns it, and charles moves on to hug sebastian. he's whisked away to do his interviews and to the cool down room.

“you did it,” carlos tells him in the cool down room, “you finally did it.”

"you're next," charles whispers and carlos laughs, it's a tender moment between the two teammates before emotions get the best of charles.

charles cries again and carlos hugs him. max enters the room to spot charles crying, he frowns at carlos before joining the hug. despite whatever angle the media will try to spin later, they know it’s simply a friend comforting another. later, charles will sob in the arms of his best friend as he realizes his childhood dream has come true. he is a winner of the monaco grand prix.

on the podium he shines, a prince finally crowned, twitter will say minutes later. the people’s prince of monaco had finally earned the win he fought so hard for. the tears still glisten in his eyes. his finger goes up again, and crowd's cheers are deafening. as he receives his 1st place trophy, he gives it a kiss holding it up and pointing it towards the sky, a clear reminder of who this win was for. the crowd scream with joy as their prince finally gets the win they all longed for.

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, tonystark and others

scuderiaferrari charles leclerc, winner of the monaco grand prix, future world champion.

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

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username i sobbed. i literally sobbed when i realized what had just happened.

username THE CRYSTALS WORKED BITCHES! CHARLES LECLERC IS THE WINNER OF THE MONACO GRAND PRIX!

↳ username HELL YEAH THEY DID! WE CAN FINALLY SAY CHARLES IS THE WINNER OF THE MONACO GRAND PRIX

username this is the most normal ferrari caption i've seen. now carlos to win his home grand prix next

↳ scuderiaferrari that's the plan bestie! both our boys will win their home grand prix this year.

username ferrari being cocky about charles winning the championship is so hot of them. they've got such a lead over everyone else that they know they're going home with the championship one way or another.

pierregasly tu l'as fait charles!

landonorris congrats charles! you deserved this one!

↳ scuderiaferrari are you implying he didn't deserve his other wins 🤔?

↳ landonorris DO NOT PUT WORDS IN MY MOUTH PARKER!

olliebearman arthur's still crying...

↳ arthur_leclerc MY BROTHER JUST WON THE MONACO GRAND PRIX BEARMAN! LET ME BE!

↳ user28 supportive brother arthur crying over charles's win is so cute.

samwilson YEAH! THAT'S IL PREDESTINATO RIGHT THERE!

america_chavez who knew an f1 race would make tony emotional?

↳ c_barton TONY CRIED? AND I MISSED IT? THAT'S SO NOT FAIR!

joaquintorres well that was an experience. congratulations charles!

↳ scott_lang C'MON THE NEW GUY WENT BUT I DIDN'T EVEN GET AN INVITE?

↳ tonystark you said you were busy, that's why you didn't get an invite. joaquin was available, hence the invite.

harleykeener HELL YEAH! NOW IT'S TIME TOPARTY! DRINKS ON TONY!

↳ alex_albon i'm in!

↳ tonystark i never agreed to that?

↳ biancastark-potts you're a billionaire, you can afford it. don't be stingy.

liked by peterparker, america_chavez, katebishop and others

biancastark_potts monaco, i think i like you

comments have been restricted by user

samwilson PAUSE! WHO IS THAT!

america_chavez monaco? is that what we're calling him now?

↳ biancastark_potts don't make me tell stephen what happened the other day

↳ america_chavez understood, i know nothing.

harleykeener so that's why you left the party early

↳ carlossainz55 you know who else left early, right?

↳ harleykeener no?

↳ carlossainz55 i will text you

tonystark STOP HIDING MY PHONE! I'LL FIND OUT WHO HE IS ONE WAY OR ANOTHER BIANCA!

↳ biancastark_potts no, you won't, because not even nat and buck have figured out who it is. if the two spies can't figure it out, you won't either.

↳ natasharomanoff she's good tony. i haven't got a clue who it is.

↳ buckybarnes i desperately want to know who it is so i can warn the poor guy to run for the hills.

↳ biancastark-potts fuck you bucky.

alex_albon you're telling me i know something the avengers don't? oh my god this is great.

↳ samwilson spill albon. what do you know?

↳ alex_albon no can do wilson. i'm being blackmailed, my own girlfriend has turned against me.

↳ lilymhe i want to know how far they're willing to take this thing. both bianca and the avengers.

↳ georgerussell63 the avengers wish they were us right now

↳ biancastark_potts WHO ELSE KNOWS?

↳ landonorris me and charles know too!

↳ biancastark_potts oh for fucks sake.

wandamaximoff second date?

↳ biancastark_potts went well, a third one is up in the air.

↳ michellejones she says this so no one will follow her on her date.

↳ biancastark_potts zip it jones.

↳ michellejones tell me everything

↳ biancastark_potts deal.

you just had to tell someone didn't you?

AMERICA KNOWS! AND WANDA! AND MJ! I'M ALLOWED TO TELL PEOPLE!

can those losers be trusted to keeping a secret?

the twitch quartet has been vowed to secrecy! except for alex, he accidentally told lily. she scolded him for telling her, so the secret is safe with her.

they are more so happy they can hold something over the avengers.

oh god. we're doomed.

series taglist: @celesteblack08 @be-your-coffee-pot @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @fulla02 @cowboylikemets1989 @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @raizelchrysanderoctavius @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @tygecjjd @nothaqks @nataliambc @formulaa1d @prongsvault @kaa212 @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! monaco is so special it deserves it's own chapter. i hope i did the racing scene justice, they are not my forte. if the race strategy seems familiar, no it doesn't (i'm unoriginal and i know nothing about race strategies. lol.)

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #paint the town red series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #marvel social media au #f1 x marvel crossover

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bellewintersroe · 9 months

Text

Daniel Ricciardo x HornerDaughter! Reader - smut.

Part 11 omfg I am so excited to write this chapter! Let’s hope it doesn’t flop… You can find my masterlist for F1 here which contains the other 10 parts to this story- be warned a lot of it is heavy on the smut.

After a heavy night of partying in Belgium and some teasing on both parts, Daniel had had enough and is bold enough to make a move. Sick of their semi separation, he’s desperate to reunite, and they do, maybe not so smoothly as he would have liked but it’s the end result which counts, and Daniel wants nothing more than to have his girl back in his arms… Warning: 18+ heavy mentions of smut, oral, graphic descriptions of rough sex, choking, spanking etc. Swearing (obviously) and arguments. Daniel is as angry as Daniel Ricciardo can seemingly get. I am FERAL for this man…

No matter who was on the top or bottom, you knew there was going to be a celebration after a Grand Prix. Whether certain people joined in or not, you were bound to find a good handful of racers making the most of their evening off.

Y/n found herself surrounded by plenty of partygoers as she joined the Red Bull team and pretty much every other team for a celebration in a buzzing club. She swore she’d steer away from alcohol, especially with everything going on with Daniel, but she couldn’t help herself. After two drinks, the rest went down way too easily.

Daniel. He was here tonight, celebrating with everybody. The AlphaTauri car might’ve been a tractor, and Daniel had faced some difficult obstacles since racing, but he was doing great considering all of those factors.

She could feel her eyes gaze over to him every now and then, and the more intoxicated she became the more she couldn’t stop, nor control herself. She wanted him, not even just in a sexual way, she just wanted to be in his vicinity, stand next to him, talk to him- act how they used to do. Her heart yearned at the thought of how close they used to be. Why couldn’t they have that back? Daniel, of course felt the same way. He just couldn’t bare to look in her direction, when he did, his jaw tightened seeing all the other men eyeing her up. He couldn’t torture himself like that, not purposefully, anyway. You see, she had come up with the dumb idea that talking to the mechanics of Red Bull would make Daniel jealous. It did- but it didn’t mean it was right to do. It was incredibly immature and toxic, but part of her wanted to see exactly what he was missing out on. She always socialised with these people, but Daniel knew it was different tonight. Her hand was resting on Jay’s shoulder as she seemed to laugh borderline non stop, apart from when she was swigging down a vodka cranberry. Daniel physically rolled his eyes, temper spurred on with the alcohol as he continued to drink a stupid amount, like he was in his 20s again. “Have you see the video of somebody of not being able to get the side jack off the car, he goes flying, has that ever happened to you?” She was entertained, half distracted as she talked to the many mechanics and engineers around. “Oh yeah, yeah! Thank god it wasn’t me!” Jay knocked her arm, swaying in an intoxicated amusement. “So- so-“ Ollie, one of the younger mechanics leaned over the table. “-Be honest, have you ever got with any of the drivers?” I snickered at his question, my eyes finding the one man I certainly had ‘got with’. Daniel was between a group of his friends at the bar, chatting away, it was as though it was his instinct to turn and look directly at her the second her eyes were on him. Her lips tugged up as she remained focused on the Australian whilst shaking her head. “No.” She glanced back to Ollie. “No, I haven’t. Some F2 guys though.” When she glanced back to Daniel his jaw was tight and he was watching her in a way she’d never seen. He looked hungry, jealous, Daniel never looked so dark, until now. He looked so attractive, beautiful, but there was something about the way he was stood and stared at her that told her he was still bothered. Of course he was, he was the one that said he loved her. Deciding to give up this small game of cat and mouse she was playing, she just continued to enjoy the conversations with everybody, choosing not to go up and dance with a group of intoxicated man. A sensation of guilt had washed over her, so when she returned from the toilets to wash her hands clean of anything mean she’d been intending on, she pulled up at the bar, glancing down to see a tanned, veiny arm pressed up to the bar next to her.

He let out a small mutter of her name, one only she could hear. Her back stiffened and she looked up to him with a daring smirk. Daniel thought he’d forgotten how to breathe for a second, until he took a hold of her wrist, gently, so she could break free if she wanted. “Can we leave?” He was pissed though, there was no room for a smirk in the dispute they were about to have.

“Now?!” Her heart fluttered at the question, she was already stepping away from the bar, “yeah.” Daniel responded bluntly as she nodded, following directly after him with the weirdest feeling in her tummy. There was a tension between them, and his grip on her wrist got unconsciously tighter when she began giggling and speaking to people mid being pulled out to a car.

“You okay?” She innocently spoke, trying to distract herself from the fact she was actually alone with him. She brushed her hair, found some gum, reapplied her lipgloss. You’d think she was going to the club, not leaving.

“Yeah, just…” he let out an inward sigh, annoyance filling his bones. “We’ll talk when we’re back.”

You see, her filter wasn’t exactly great when she was drunk, nobody’s was- but that mixed with Daniel’s already annoyance, was a bad combination. “Talk about what?” She shuffled in her seat, knees pulled up onto the seats, tucked up slightly besides her as Daniel glanced down, noticing the slight pink lace of her underwear showing through. “Put your seatbelt on.” He shook the improper thoughts away, grinding his teeth together and jittering his leg uncontrollably. Daniel hated being like this, the rage that he could usually contain was spilling out purely from the fact he’d had one too many drinks.

Worst of all, she gave him a funny stare, taken aback by the command. He was starting straight forwards, hand jiggling on his leg. She’d never seen him so wound up, ever. After a second of reacting to his comment, she sat back, plugging her seatbelt in silently. “Talk about what, Daniel?” She tried again after a moments silence. The screen between the driver and them was closed, but it still wasn’t ideal, not for him anyway.

He inhaled deeply, turning his face to stare at the space between them. One of her hands rested on the middle seat, he wanted to reach out and take it. His emotions were so twisted, he couldn’t figure where one started and the other stopped. “Just-” he cut himself off again and she was growing frustrated with the lack of answers.

“Just what? I would’ve stayed out if I knew this was the case.” He winced at the harsh tone of her words, maybe he shouldn’t have dragged her out, maybe she really didn’t feel the same as he did anymore… He inhaled this time, scratching at the back of his neck. The conversation fell flat and both of them stared out of either side of their windows, drearily thanking the driver before returning through a back door into their hotel. “What do you want to talk about?” She tried again, striding to catch up to him.

“Just this-” he pointed between them, “what was happening in there, the way you kept looking at me when you were-”

“You were the one that was looking at me!” She cut him off, the two of them continued walking into the hotel lobby. “When you were flirting with all those men, look, I don’t play childish games like that.” His tone was firm, firmer than she’d ever heard Daniel be. She didn’t like it, it was hurtful and she felt kinda bad over how upset he was. However, nor did she like his accusations…

“Flirting, I was just talking with them.” She spat out quietly whilst they waited for a lift. Daniel scoffed at her words and she could really feel her rage beginning to grow. When they got in the lift she jittered her leg, he pressed the button to his room and she in objection, pushed the buttons to hers.

“I’m not a fucking idiot, that was fuckin’ immature in there and you know it.” Daniel pointed out as he remained silent, swallowing harshly as the lift began moving upwards. Not fast enough, again, it was awkward, tense. Her breathing was fast and heavy, and she knew she was going to explode. Finally, the lift slowed to his floor. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?” She inhaled sharply. “No.” He lowered his tone, staring right back at her now. “Thanks for dragging me back for nothing.” She scoffed as Daniel gulped, stepping out the now open doors. She watched him with sadness, the same aching feeling filling her when he began leaving. It was in the split of a second that Daniel decided he couldn’t just leave her there, he smacked his hand over the door, preventing it from closing as she raised her head, her sad little face making Daniels heart ache.

“Just come speak to me, properly. Please.” He couldn’t look at her, she followed slowly back to his room, he pushed the door open for her as she awkwardly walked in first. Her eyes fell to the floor as she stole a glance at Daniel locking the door. He looked so good, yet so bothered. His brow was tense and she’d never seen him look so miserable before.

“Look, just speak to me normally, we can’t keep going on doing this.” He stepped in front of her now, forcing her to tilt her head up to look at him once more. Their eye contact made her weak, it made her want to cry. “I just… I don’t know how to act around you anymore, you really upset me and I was just- just immature to want to get back at you, I know, but at some point I was just speaking to them. I didn’t purposefully sit with those men just to annoy you.” “I know.” He sighed out, the two of them stood in the hallway practically face to face. She glanced around his room slightly, double bed, tidy, larger and nicer than her own. A couch was sprawled in front of a large window, the lights from outside glowing through and creating an orange hum to the room. There was a side lamp on, nothing else. Her head dropped again, and she swallowed in tension, hating the fact she began to warm to the fact she was here with him, alone…

“Sorry.” She swallowed as he felt something soften deep inside of him. “It’s fine.” Daniel hushed as she began fidgeting under his gaze. Recognising he could’ve been slightly intimidating, he stepped back, glancing around the large room.

“Max um…” she began causing him to turn around again as her stomach did backflips with anxiety. “Max figured out what was happening, kinda.” She winced as Daniel sighed. “I know.”

“I told him as well.” She blurted out as Daniel froze, waiting for her to continue but nothing else came out. “Told him what?”

“We weren’t doing whatever, anymore.” She awkwardly spoke as Daniel’s body slumped whilst sitting down on the bed. She took the drooping of his shoulders the wrong way, her anxieties (and alcohol) telling her that he was ashamed. Ashamed of her, of their secret little affair.

“Is it so bad, Daniel? I mean, would it be? People knowing about us? Because I don’t-” she took a deep breath, “I don’t care about people finding out, I was never ashamed of you.” His head snapped up at this now, face contorting in confusion.

“Ashamed?! You think I was ashamed?” She held her thumb up to her lips worriedly, watching him sit up much straighter now. With a gentle nod he let out a quick exhale, dropping his head.

“I was never ashamed, god y/n, it was just your dad, I-”

“Oh, Daniel why?!” She raised her voice in annoyance. “Because it would be inappropriate!”

“Why?” She blinked, stepping closer, breathing increased as did her frustration. Daniel didn’t stand, he didn’t want to look down on her, it felt cruel. “Why?!” She repeated when he didn’t reply, his mouth opened but nothing came out. Daniel asked himself that too, why was it inappropriate? They were both consenting adults, they both clearly had the very same intentions, they’d only met each other a year prior. The more Daniel pushed this ‘inappropriate’ narrative the weirder she began to feel, a sense of rejection filling her.

“Inappropriate.” She borderline laughed to herself. He felt ridiculed, caught out on his own lie. “Do you really think that?” She eyed him up and down now, his jaw tensed and he responded with a quick, “no.” Her teeth found her bottom lip, sucking it in as she began gnawing nervously. Something shifted in the air, and when she sighed out, the anger escaped her body with her breath. “Okay… what now then?” She cleared her throat.

“What now?” Daniel gulped again, glancing at her up and down. She nodded, holding eye contact with the Australian who scanned over her features. The gentle knot in her brow softened when Daniel stood up, her chin lifting as he reached out, taking hold of her face and moving in for a kiss that was bruising with want. Both their heart beat in a simultaneous rhythm, unbeknown to the two of them. Fuck, Daniel couldn’t not. He loved her, he needed her. Their lips moulded together for the first time in what felt like centuries, hands grabbing at one another as she moaned in shock, spurring Daniel on to tug her closer with a stumble. He held her upright, hands snatching at her waist closer to his. His finger tips dug into her flesh, keeping her close as he stepped further back.

“C’mere, c’mere.” He cooed, melting her on the spot as they tumbled onto the bed, knees either side of him. How they got in this position so quickly she’d never comprehend, but that didn’t matter. All she cared about was the feeling of his lips on hers, his hand smoothing down her skirt, snatching at the material, pulling her face closer into his- she enjoyed the idea he had an animalistic need for her. Their separation had been tough, god knows how either coped so well without one another, but they were sure making up for lost time now.

His hand slipped over the buttons of her cargo skirt, slipping her easily out as they momentarily broke the kiss so she could strip herself free. Daniel was opened mouth and red in the cheeks, panting as he looked her up and down. It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen and before she went to climb back onto him, he caught her again.

“These too, baby.” He was quick to mutter, fingers snapping at the band of her thongs. She smirked back to him, tugging them down with his aid before discarding them to one side. Daniel fell to his knees in front of the bed, kissing over her stomach and lower abdomen before throwing her leg over his shoulder.

His lips and tongue worked in ways she could comprehend as he ate her out, slurping up her wetness like he hadn’t eaten his last meal. Fuck, the pleasure was dizzying, and when his hand slightly slapped against her ass she let out a louder moan, signalling her want for the rough sensation.

Daniel hummed out a chuckle against her pussy, squeezing over her cheek, rubbing the sore part before bringing his hand down once more and spanking her. Her hips jumped, deeper into his mouth as he moaned at the delightful sensation of her pussy throbbing on his tongue.

“I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” She whined, head tilting back and body becoming rigid. She could barely stand straight as his arms began shaking, holding her upright as her orgasm crashed over her. “Oh my god, oh fuck.” She rolled her hips into his mouth as he swiped his tongue from her hole up to her clit, “I could do this all fucking day.” He commented lowly as she moaned in response. She was aching in the best way, pussy so sensitive as his actions didn’t slow. “Da-Daniel.” A light tap on his head slowly broke him off as he pressed one more kiss to her stomach. He swore he was hard as a fucking rock, the slight of her glistening pussy in front of her sending him wild.

“I fucking need you, baby. I need you so bad.” He then admitted, practically lifting her up and dropping her back onto the bed. She let out a whimper in protest when he began pulling his cock out. He was still fully clothed, eager to fill her up. “I wanna suck you off first.” She bluntly admitted as he wiped the back of his mouth, wet from before. Daniel moved down, kissing her deeply once again, her lips so soft and warm as he curled his fingers through her wetness.

The breath that escaped her lips was heavenly as he pulled back to watch her face, but she brought him back in by biting his bottom lip. Daniel strained out a moan, feeling himself beginning to leak with precum. “Please.” She then whispered again, kissing close to his earlobe as Daniel shuddered at the contact.

Who was he to deny such a thing? He stripped his shirt off when he leant back, hers following suit, tits bouncing when they were freed. Daniel could see her pierced, peaked nipples all fucking night long, it drove him insane. The perky swell of them, the way they bounced whenever she’d walk. Hold fuck, Daniel felt a pressure in his abdomen like no other. He could’ve came at the fucking sight of her tonight. He was worried he’d blow his load too quickly when she began sucking. There was no teasing, she went right to it, wet lips suctioning around his aching member as she licked the precum clean off his tip. Her hands and fingers danced over his balls, fingers occasionally reaching lower which Daniel didn’t know was an accident or not.

His groans were uncontrollable, his fingers tightened in her hair, eyes rolling back from the wet vacuum her mouth had formed. He had to focus really fucking hard on not cumming down her throat there and then. Only when she broke off and let out a slight, “ah.” Daniel came back to reality.

“You okay?” His grip immediately loosened as she giggled, climbing over his lap so his cock was directly facing her chest. “Yeah.” As she pushed her tits together Daniel instinctively eased his cock between them. “Ah fuck.” He choked out, his darkest fantasies coming to light as her tits squeezed over his large cock. It just about worked, her tits were the perfect size, just allowing him to slip back and fourth between the valley of her chest.

“Daniel.” She whined as he snatched her by the chin, forcing her to face him as she smirked at the dominance he showed. “I like it when you’re like this.” She muttered as he panted out, throwing his hips forwards. “Spit on my cock, fuck y/n.” He moaned as she did exactly what she was told, lubricating his cock further as he easily glided between her tits, letting out an actual moan, one that made her legs close tightly together.

“Fuck, keep looking at me.” He growled, pushing his hips, harder, faster, unable to get enough of the new sensation. “Fuck my mouth.” She gasped out, holding eye contact as Daniel felt himself loosing complete control. His cock messily slipped from her breasts, up to her lips again as he stood on the bed, her knelt before him, shuffling back so she was pressed against the head of the bed.

“Fuck, tap me if you wanna stop.” Daniel blurted, lost by the warmth of her mouth. She hummed sexily, the vibrations running all over his cock as he pumped into her mouth, slowly at first. She whined, pulling him by the ass into her as he snapped his hips into her once again. She tugged on his pants and underwear, freeing his ass as he held either side of her head, pumping his hips carefully into her.

He was holding back, she could tell so broke free from his cock. “Don’t hold back Daniel, I want you to use me.” Her words caught him off guard, twisting something deep inside of him.

“Fuck, are you sure?” But she was back on his cock before he had time to answer, he couldn’t cope. He knew there was little to no control left in him as he began fucking his cock into her throat. She could take him so deep without choking now, he closed his eyes and began thrusting into her warmth, overwhelmed by the sensation as he replayed her words over and over again in his mind. Use me, use me, use me. Something in Daniel snapped as he began fucking her face harsher, faster. Now, he watched for any sign of distress or the slightest movement for him to stop, but she was almost smiling around his cock, pulling him in harder as he rocked back and fourth into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as he uncontrollably panted and moaned. Daniel was never too vocal in bed, but this was something else.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He pulled out quickly, the sensation creeping up on him a little too quickly. “Cum in my mouth, please.” Her plead was desperate as she wrapped herself around him, it not taking him more than four pumps before he was spilling into her mouth, his limbs shaking as he let out the loudest groan, not afraid to show her how good he was feeling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The Australian whined as she slowly sucked him, coercing him through the orgasm. Some of his cum dribbled down onto her lap and the bed below, forming a mess that Daniel felt proud of. He was slowly milking himself in her mouth, sighing in disbelief as he pulled off, giving her time to catch her breath back.

“Good girl, fuck, good girl.” He praised, still groaning from his high as he kissed her lips, not seeming to care the fact she’d just swallowed his cum. Seeing her all fucked out made him want to keep going, his erection didn’t falter once.

She stood up to clean herself up in the bathroom, Daniel frowning slightly. “Where are you going?”

“Oh, I thought you were… done.” She glanced up and down him, noticing he really wasn’t ‘done’ at all. “Are you?” Daniel questioned as a smirk arose on her face, smiling before plonking herself back down into the bed with him.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Daniel hushed out, kissing her once more as he rolled on top of her body. “Me too.” She gently spoke, sliding her fingers through his hair as he pressed his lips to her cheek, then her temple. “Glad you came back with me.” He muttered, more muffled this time as she could feel him lining up his sensitive cock against her aching hole.

“Needed you for so long.” She inhaled sharply as he pulled off to watch her reaction as he slid into her tightness. They both let out a simultaneous groan, the friction being something both of them so desperately yearned for. “Daniel.” She whined out his name, pushing his hips further into her own, legs spreading wider so Daniel could nuzzle in perfectly. The pleasure that spread through both of them was too much to cope with. Her eyes rolled back in her head as Daniel fucked his sensitive cock inside of her, enjoying each gasp that escaped her mouth when he did. She felt like he was in control, just what she wanted. His lips came down to attach to her neck, kissing and sucking as he stroked his hand over the smooth of her skin there.

A nudge of her hand send Daniel’s hand wrapping around her throat as she offered him a teasing smile. His hand squeezed and he felt his cock twitch. “Fuck.” Daniel groaned, other hand moving up to fist around her hair. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” The Aussie moaned, dropping his forehead against hers before giving her a bruising kiss. “Yeah.” She nodded, voice hoarse from his hand wrapped around there.

“You want it harder, baby?” He questioned, pushing his sweaty body up slightly, fist pinning her down to the bed by her hair. “Yeah.” She whined again, rolling her naked hips against his, pussy wrapping tighter around his cock. Daniel couldn’t control himself, nor could he stop the painfully loud squeaking of the mattress that must’ve been echoing to every single room that surrounded them. He didn’t give a shit, neither did she. Their sex was rough, careless, but full of emotion. When Daniel had hitched her up on the sofa, opening up the windows, he purposefully nuzzled his body as closely to hers as possible.

“What if people hear?” She sighed, rolling herself back onto his cock. Daniel’s teeth tightened at her slow movements. “They will.” He inched his cock deeper inside of her.

“Fuck, Daniel. Pull my hair again.” She hungrily spoke, turning over her shoulder to eye him up as he listened immediately. “Want you to fuck me so good.” She then spoke as his eyes fluttered shut, an exhale leaving his lips as he focused on anything but cumming deep inside her.

“Give it to me Daniel, please.” She begged. “Want you to hit me.” She wiggled her bum as his fingers tightened around her flesh, lifting and then falling to spank on the flesh below. The sensation of pain mixed in with pleasure left a pornographic sound to escape her lips.

Daniel did it again, and again, and again, before he couldn’t control himself anymore. His hips were snapping harder, faster into hers, the view of the city outside becoming overwhelming as she bit down into a pillow to avoid herself letting out the screams of pleasure she needed to.

“Daniel, Daniel.” She moaned out her name, he groaned in response. “Cum inside me, fuck, please give it to me. I’ve missed it so bad.” Fuck. How could he last when she was speaking like that?

“Fuck-” he could only choke out, the pace becoming bruising as he let go of her hair, snatching at both her hips to force back into his own. She was pleading, begging him through his orgasm, and as he felt himself growing nearer she let out a low cry of, “I love you, Daniel…” In that moment he’d never felt better. His orgasm washed over him, cum filling up her tightened little pussy as her words were thick on his mind. Shuddering and twitching, he carefully rode her through his orgasm, tensing every muscle in his body as he did so.

His body collapsed on hers, large hands engulfing hers, lips kissing the back of her shoulder. “Fuck… I love you too…” Finally…

————————————————————————

@dinodumbass @mccall-muffin @allabouthappiness @benbarneslut @ricciardhoe-3 @headinthecloudssblog @f1wintermoon13 @hrlzy @topguncultleader

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x reader smut

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sunny44 · 10 months

Text

Unveiling the Truth

(Ruin it part.2)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader

Warnings: none I guess.

Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.

Previous chapter | Next chapter

After that night Max and I never talked about it again. He went on pretending that nothing had happened and so did I but the fact that I was part of his betrayal is what haunts me every day.

Ok I don't like Kelly but I did something I wouldn't want to be done to me so I feel bad.

We were at the last race of the year and it was a weekend she was here which didn't help my guilt at all.

"Are you okay?" Pierre asks slipping his arm around my shoulders giving me a hug.

"Not much."

"Do you want to talk?"

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone?" He agrees and I pull him into a corner. "Max and I had sex."

"WHAT?" He screams and I cover his mouth with my hand. "What?"

"That's exactly what you heard."

"How?"

"Do you really want me to explain how?"

"Ew that's not what I meant. I mean how did it happen?"

"It was after the third title celebration party, I took him back to the hotel and we fucked in my room."

"My God I've been trying to get you into bed for years and you never wanted to."

"Is that really what you're thinking about right now?"

"Of course, that lucky bastard."

"Pierre I'm serious, stop thinking about me naked on top of you and concentrate."

"Now that you've said that I won't be able to concentrate."

"Forget it." I walk away annoyed and he comes right behind me but Max sees us and I know he's imagining that we did the same thing he and I did at the hotel.

...

I was walking past Redbull at night with the paddock already empty when one of the engineers asked me to go into the garage and when I did he directed me to Max's drivers room where he was inside.

"What is it?"

"May I ask what you were doing with Pierre in the corner?"

"And why does that interest you?"

"Just answer the damn question." He says irritated.

"We were talking."

"The same way you and I talked that night?"

"Where's your girlfriend anyway?"

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter since I know she's here this weekend."

"Forget Kelly okay? Can we talk about us?"

"There is no us, that was a mistake and you shouldn't be so calm about the fact that you cheated on your girlfriend and that I helped you do it."

"I'm only calm because I don't feel the same way about her as I do about you." At this I fell silent. "She doesn't make me feel angry and want to grab you and kiss you at the same time, she doesn't make me feel good after a bad race even if I only see you in those 5 minutes of interview and she doesn't understand me like you understand do."

"Max..."

"Just say you don't feel the same way about me and I’ll pretend the best night of my life never happened and leave you alone.”

"I don't know." He takes his hands away from my face. "I never thought of you as anything other than the guy I keep picking on."

"And I'll never be anything else to you?"

"Not until you sort out your situation with her." He sighs. "I won't allow myself to feel anything for you or try to have anything with you while you're committed."

"And after that?"

"After that we're going to have to talk, because like it or not you cheated on her and as much as I was the bitch who helped you do it and that I deserve it to happen to me too, I don't want to be the next on your list."

"You're never going to be just anyone on my list, you're not even on the list, you're completely superior to anyone I've ever been involved with in my life."

"Don't say that if you don’t really mean it."

"I was serious about everything I just said."

"Okay then go find me when you sort yourself out."

...

It had been a month since our conversation and Max hadn't said anything else so I understood that he had moved on with Kelly.

Charles and Pierre had invited me to go on a trip together and as I had nothing better to do I decided to go along.

I packed all my things and my cell phone started ringing and I saw that Pierre was calling so I didn't even answer it, I just locked my apartment and went down the elevator with my things, to my surprise when I got downstairs Max was with them and smiled when he saw me.

"I didn't know you were going."

"Yeah, last minute plans."

"We're going by jet." Pierre says kissing my forehead and hugging me from the side.

"What about our tickets?"

"They don't exist, I lied because I knew that if you knew max would be along you would have given up on going."

"Good that you know me." I say putting my bag in the trunk of the car and getting in the back seat.

The walk to the runway was complete silence on my part, I was annoyed that he had ignored me all this time and now he showed up here on a trip he knew I would be on.

The boys were excited and got on the plane before me and Max who grabbed my arm as soon as the two had left my sight.

"Can you let me go?"

"Can you stop being rude to me?"

"And why should I? It wasn't enough that you ignored me and went on this trip together to annoy me and now what? Kelly is going to show up there too."

"No because we broke up."

"What?"

"I broke up with her like I told you I would and I only ignored you because I was helping her moving her stuff out of my apartment. I had to hire a moving truck to take P's stuff to her place too.”

"You could have texted you saying that."

"I know and I'm sorry, it wasn't a quiet break up and I just needed time.”

"It's okay." He let go of my arm. "Let's go before they notice we're late."

Taglist: @44-ilton @babyvinnie @hockey-racing-fubol @xjval @xcinnamongirl @dudenhaaa27 @evans-dejong @chelseagirl98

Ps: this will have a part 3

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precious-little-scoundrel · 1 month

Text

| Ida’s Law

Introductory Part

Summary: The American War Effort had conceded to the enlisting and commissioning of women into the Air Force at semi-integrated status. Deemed a more reliable if not safer combat post, the going rank of officer in the Air Force was intended to secure fair treatment and combatant status for these women, as it had for their male counterparts. Like most things in war -or life, if one is a woman- such recognition must be fought for.

Warnings: disturbing content- if you made it through last one this one should be a breeze, however it picks up where we left off so expect mentions of war, wounds, illusions to past rapes, Nazis being racist fucks, possibly some internalized misogyny about it all and some hopefully very 🥹🤧 reunions

A Note Going Forward: With this part now published, I am happy to open this series up for prompts. Ideally I’d like this series to end up being exclusively prompt-inspired and will be putting out prompt lists accordingly. I think that will be a fun way to keep the interaction going, stretch my own skills and explore all the different scenarios that may intrigue y’all. You’re welcome to come up with your own prompts, too. All are welcome, none guaranteed but let’s be real -I’m obsessed with this AU so I’ll likely do it. For now I’ll be keeping all writing to POW Camp and Liberation and Post-Liberation timelines.

“Well, what do we know?” Ida Brady asked the first officer out on the other side as they began to filter through the laborious processing of the camp. She counted them down, one familiar face after another appearing through the doorway again with no worse indignity than the new identification tags hanging from their necks.

“I hate a guy named Johann, and I like a guy named Fritz, and the lieutenant guy wasn’t bad.” Maureen declared, straightening her precious cap atop muddy auburn tresses. “Who went and named their son Fritz after the last war? I mean really? Who does that to a kid? It’s like he’s making up for it now, though, awfully nice.”

“Mm, I thought so, too.” Ida hummed, “Might keep an eye on that one, work on him a bit. You think, Kendeigh?”

“Work on him yourself, Ida.” Maureen scoffed.

“Not much to work with.” Ida retorted, the first general reference to her disfigurement she’d made. “What do you know? What’s up?” she left off to inquire after Tallulah Smith who came out the other side of processing looking more than exasperated.

“Know? They don’t know squat.” she said, “Never heard of a Cherokee.”

“I’ll be.” Maureen was grinning sharply. “Wasn't enough being a woman for ya Smith, ya had to go and be a brown one.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” She griped, “They kept insisting I was a fighter pilot. That’s what all the ‘dark ones’ are, according to them. Told them I’d rewire their insides and maybe then they’d take my engineering degree seriously.”

“I’d like to see that.” Maureen murmured, drowsiness beginning to take over at the comparative calm of their new surroundings.

“Looks like we got everyone, yeah?” Ida peered over the heads of the crowing room and counted out her charges in a silent tally.

“Looks like.” Smith agreed. “Got billet assignments?”

“I do. Colonel Clark, most senior prisoner here, said the combines are strict but the rooms aren’t. Let’s try to behave until we feel our way, then we can swap, if they allow.”

“It’s going to smell like feet no matter where and who we share it with.” Smith pointed out and Ida heaved a great sigh as if that were the hardest prospect she’d yet encountered.

“Mm.”

“Buck is out there!” Maureen suddenly cried out, grabbing at Ida’s arm, pointing out the window at the muddy yard.

“How nice. Gotta get this sorted first, eyes in, Kendeigh.”

Maureen reluctantly tore her eyes away from her dearly missed pilot. “Yes sir.”

“All right,” Ida’s voice carried as well as it ever had, commanding immediate quiet and attention, “those in the 350th, 419th, -the hundredth!- on me. Gather ‘round. That’s it, come on. Alright, well, we made it, well done. Truly, well done to all of you. Now I know you well enough to not accuse any of you of being pure idiots, just because we made it to where we wanted to go doesn’t mean any of what’s ahead is going to be easy. Be wary, don’t let your guard down, you don’t know plenty of these men and they don’t know you, I’m sure there are measures in place for spying already. Be sensible. I am certain we can rely on the kindness of those in the hundredth, but even then keep in mind, if you are cold, they are too, if you're hungry, you best believe they are hungrier, the last thing we need is a crisis of chivalry in here. Rely on them, except their help, but don’t ever take from them. Understood? And one more thing, since the human spirit is irrepressible I feel it’s warranted to make one more housekeeping note. None, and I do mean none, no inner relations at all are allowed. I don’t care how cold you are, how sweet he’s been, or how much you’ve missed him. The Red Cross aren’t sending rubbers, and don’t ever take the promise of a pull out. Do you want a one-way ticket to a death camp or a bullet to the head? Get pregnant. Simple as that. You think the Jerries think poorly of you now for being female? Try being a matron. The point is to blend in as much as possible, keep that in mind. Whatever you do, keep that in mind. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Colonel?” One voice demurred, raised hand and respectful title only forerunners for an obvious objection incoming.

“Yes? Sanchez, isn’t it? You’re not one of mine, I think.”

“No, sir, 55th -fighters.”

“Yes, well, welcome. What’s your question?”

“No offense sir but- what about the guards?” Sanchez asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Brady replied with typical candor, “I believe so far we’ve seen a mix here. I’m sure our friends can give us tips on who to watch out for.”

“No sir, sorry I meant-“ Sanchez kept her teeth clenched until her thoughts seemed to form better, “-you said no relations. What about the guards? No disrespect meant colonel and I don’t know about yours, but mine -they weren’t pulling out.”

“Mm.” Maureen thought that if Ida smashed her lips together any tighter they’d turn whiter than her skin, the bent aviators she had managed to preserve this entire time did a remarkable job of masking whatever feeling was stiffening her spine to the current degree, but all the same, her spine was stiff, “no offense taken, an excellent point. I’ll inquire about any possible…remedies. Anyone else?”

A multitude of hands shot up and Ida Brady scanned them with bewilderment until she realized her lapse in specificity. “Anyone else with questions, I meant! Saints alive. No? Good, let’s claim our bunks and see about a wash.”

After the dark interior of the building, being processed for hours, the hazy late afternoon light of outside glared painfully against Ida’s bloodshot eyes as she stepped out, leading the way down the three wooden steps to the muddy yard. Monochrome, this place, brown wooden buildings and brown earth and a muddy sky and brown flight jackets one after another.

And there in the midst of it, waiting for them with ever constant patience and thinned stateliness was Gale Cleven and his lost blue eyes and an alarmingly symmetrical set of facial scars.

“Major.” Ida felt her face soften into an odd expression she realized was likely that of relief. Cleven had that way about him, it was better suited to her preferences than Egan’s blustering warm hearted concern, Colonel Harding’s gruff joviality or her John’s perpetually intense concern. Her little brother was, oddly, nowhere to be seen now and that was a comfort in this wide open, highly observed space.

“Colonel.” Gale Cleven’s eyes weren’t a lost blue anymore but a pair of stormy seas and Ida steeled herself for pity. She found smoldering rage in his face instead. Another relief.

“How was it?” he was nodding to the command hut.

“Fine.” she assured.

He was searching for something in her face and Ida was sure it was easily found skin deep along her puffy, purpled left cheek, but if she had anything to do with her expression alone, he’d be kept guessing for ages. “Good.” he decided at last but his smile was tight, “Made John wait in the combine, he’s in there pacing like a madman. They make a note of who’s attached to whom, Colonel,” he explained, “a more discreet reunion seemed in order.”

“We’d appreciate all the direction you—“ Ida had begun but was cut short by Lt. Kendeigh who broke ranks from the processed group and came out of the hut behind Ida like a bat out of hell, running up to Cleven and tackling him in a hug, rather like a dog with their long lost master.

The Major’s lanky frame staggered under her surprise attack, perhaps more from shock and ill preparedness than poor rations and a weakened constitution. Or at least Ida, hoped that was the case.

Well, there went all intentions for discretion about partiality on their part, five seconds had gone by and Maureen still hadn’t let go, her valued cap about ready to knock off her head and his too. Seeing the gig was up, Cleven even belatedly brought an arm up to hug her shoulders, his pleased face bashfully pacifying her intensity. “If it isn’t my favorite bombardier.” Cleven mumbled, his lips failing not to tug upwards in the tiniest of smiles, and he gave her a pat on the back.

“Buck!” Smith was coming in hot behind Kendeigh and knocked Ida’s shoulder in her haste to get around her and join in. “Thank Jesus you’re here.” she grunted as she squeezed him and Kendeigh both, “I mean -we’re sorry you’re here but since we’re here-“

“Glad you’re here, too, Smith.” he assured her gently, another pat on another back and Ida watched Cleven’s composure began to flake as he took stock of their roughened appearances. “It’s gonna be ok now.” he offered, and coming from someone else that statement would’ve sounded a great deal less impressive than it did coming from him. It also sounded hollow without Bucky’s typical parroting of the upbeat sentiment. “Let’s get you girls sorted.” he nodded at Ida who fell in alongside him, if only to distance and displace Kendeigh and her over familiarity just a tad.

“What’s your Kommandant like?” Ida asked by way of conversation as Gale directed them in a trudge along the brown paths towards his specified hut.

“Think I know him as well as you.” Gale admitted, “Tried to stay low, been no reason for socializing. Wouldn’t advise a trip to the camp doctor though.” He added the last part after a beat.

“Why?”

“Your Johnny says he’s got an experimental mind.” Gale smiled wryly but there was a grieved look behind it that made Ida’s pulse pound in alarm, “If you go in with a cold, you might come out with a radioactive arm instead.”

“Noted.” Ida muttured with a shiver, wishing to god her jacket hadn’t been taken off her a couple stops ago, the sun was waning in the dull sky and the breeze was frigid without it. “Speaking of doctors,” she decided to go for it, “is Johnny -my John- is he alright? At the gate it was such a racket, was he…standing?”

Gale paused in his step up into the combine, brows knitted in surprise and she noticed along with him that their little march had drawn quite a little audience from the fellow inmates. Females in a Stalag -what a novelty. “Yeah, John’s fine. He’s fit.” Gale still had that quizzical look on his face.

Ida swallowed hard and gave him another curt nod, one she wanted to come across as grateful but wasn’t sure it did, her battered cheek was responding less and less to her mind’s commands. “Right. This us?”

“Yeah. Figured we’d try to keep as many close as possible.” He explained, “Welcome to paradise.”

“What did y’all name this shack?” Maureen asked him as she stepped over the threshold, it was dark inside and smelled of lumber and smoke.

“We haven’t.” Gale admitted, forlorn at the realization that things like that didn’t occur to people like him. If Bucky had been here, he’d have had it named in an hour, and something awful, too. Something that would make them all laugh.

“Damn oversight, Gingerale.” Maureen teased merrily but Cleven noticed the dimming light in her eyes as she took in the cramped, uninspired utility of the place. One wooden doorway after another.

“Talked it over with Colonel Clark during your processing,” Gale said, “decided it were best if we mingle you all among the men we know. Boys from your squadrons, friendly faces. A few of you in each room.”

“I call dibs on yours.” Maureen unabashedly grinned up at Cleven but Ida saw how a heartbroken look of protectiveness skittered across his features.

“Alright.” he muttered without a fight for once.

“Mm, Smith, Sanchez, Tong, you in here.” Ida decided and having snapped her fingers she was moving on to the next stuffy room. Asking Cleven at each about their current occupants, and with the precision of memory required of a woman who had to memorize her opponents on the promotional ladder, chose their new bunk mates accordingly.

“And where’s Johnny bunked?” she asked him in a low tone as she watched the next set settle in from the doorway.

“In with me, further down the hall, Demarco, Hambone, a few others.”

Ida seemed to hesitate as she eyed up an extra bunk in the current room that the last of her girls were settling into.

“Don’t be a stick, colonel,” Maureen spoke up gently, a surprising liberty even for her, “you need friends right now. Bunk with us. Everyone’s going to be fine. Can’t be all places at all times, ya know?”

Ida didn’t reply but after a moment she admitted, “I should go see John.”

Gale and Maureen exchanged a look and then moved in unison to catch up to her as Ida Brady walked, brisk as if she were back home at Thorpe and about to pick a fight with Jack Kidd, down the long hall to one of the last rooms. “In here?” she asked Gale, pointing at the closed door -they liked to keep it so for warmth and privacy, and to acclimate the guards to it being closed when the radio was out.

“Yeah that’s us.” Cleven replied, reaching out and snagging Maureen back a step as Ida turned the handle. “Let’s give ‘em a minute.” he suggested, referring to the Bradys.

He held her jacket sleeve for a brief moment before turning it to grab her hand, he’d missed those hands. To his horror their usual calloused elegance was a swollen paw of bruises. “The hell, Maureen?” he whispered in shock, turning it over to examine it, grip strong around her wrist before she could pull away. “Who did this?”

Maureen did her best to shrug, “Some bitch stood on them.” she said simply, and surrendered the other hand for a similar heartbroken inspection.

Kendeigh was indeed not as visibly marred as Ida Brady or a few of the others, but still, Gale kept turning her crushed hands over and over, recalling with vivid agony the way he’d admired them at all manner of work before. To hurt them that way, to restrain her so meanly- “Maureen,” she’d never heard his voice dip so low, and his eyes were simmering where they cataloged her hurts, “what’d they do to you?”

“What’d they do to your face?” she shot back, perhaps more perturbed by the immaculately symmetrical scars on his once porcelain face than her own condition. Women expected the treatment they’d gotten, in some twisted way, but this on the other hand, it disturbed her.

Gale looked taken aback by her question and quickly dropped her hand to touch his right cheek as if to remind himself the scar was obvious to everyone. “Flak.” he replied a beat too late.

“Awfully precise.” she snarked.

“I asked you first.”

“I told you, a bitch stood on them.”

“I’m your superior officer.”

“Who it looks like someone had some fun with,” Maureen snapped back, “who did this?”

“What happened to you?” He hit right back but his voice quavered.

“I’m fine now. I wanna go see the boys. Come on.”

“Just- give them another minute.” Gale insisted, pulling her back away from the doorway again, “It’s a lot.” He reminded, “For a brother to see his sister like -that.”

Maureen couldn’t argue with that, besides Gale looked so sad and more fragile than she’d ever seen him, and the gentle hold he had on her jacket was as needy and scared as a child’s. “I’m glad we’re in this together.” she whispered.

“Me too.” he admitted, guilty and sad over how true that was before letting her press her lips to his.

Ida Brady didn’t know what she expected when she opened the door, not much she supposed, just a living brother with any luck. It was a decently tidy room, plates stacked on a rough hewn board at the far end, eight bunks lining the walls, stacked three tall. A table was in the middle and there sat dear old Crank and Hambone too, Murph with Benny. A card game was ongoing.

They looked so fine, quite normal, all in all.

All motion in the small room stopped upon her entrance. Cards were dropped and cigarettes forgotten in open mouthed shock.

“Holy shit -colonel?” Demarco didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body, and his disbelieving horror over her appearance came through loud and clear in his greeting. She hadn’t seen him at the gate.

The same for Hambone’s face, one that had never bothered to be discreet in pleasant circumstances, much less in shocking ones like seeing a notorious superior officer come in looking about as battered as a body could get -although his torn cheek was one to talk. Crank recovered first, in his mild, stammering sort of way, glancing at the lean figure who still stood looking out the lone window.

“Well, if it isn’t Ain’t Pretty Brady.” Crank clapped uneasily, summoning her nickname from basic just to cut the tension, it served to startle John.

He turned from the window abruptly, blank faced and unblinking as he realized the sister he had been watching for had already arrived. If their ole nan from the motherland had suddenly materialized before him he could have hardly looked more haunted or aghast, wide fringed fox eyes and that straight fold of a mouth -always so very held together, her little brother. Even after his third belly landing.

But those startled unblinking eyes...

Ida wanted to tell him to blink, that it was all alright now, that they were both alive and that it was good enough, it had to be. But she seemed to have fully lost all power over her throbbing cheek at last, she could feel her lips move in a motion she realized with supreme panic was likely a wobble of emotion. She ripped her aviators off, as if seeing her eyes might help his to come alive.

“John John?” she croaked in greeting, oblivious of the childish endearment tumbling off her lips in a room full of soldiers. If it were something their family was in the habit of doing, Ida Brady might have rushed him like Maureen did her pilot, or held out her own hand to be held, asked for a gesture from him -after what she’d gone through, surely it couldn’t have been weakness to want a clap on the shoulder, a flick to the bicep, a little “well done” for staying alive.

But she just stood there and watched him clock her shame. She could feel her swollen lip splitting in real time as the swelling and incessant trembling tore the taut skin apart, they’d passed around a single canteen in processing and it wasn’t enough, the walls of her throat felt collapsed together. Maybe she should have asked for a mirror first, maybe Cleven or Kendeigh or Smith should have told her she’d bring a whole room to a frozen standstill by her looks alone. They’d seen her at the gate -were these meager lightbulbs really so much more illuminating?

“Eye-eye.” Johnny let it out in a breathy rush as if he’d suddenly come to, and then he was in front of her, hands cradling the sides of her neck, thumbs hooked gently under her bruised jaw. A calloused pad swiped away the ticklish trickle of blood sliding the crease of her mouth.

Eye eye -his onetime baby babble for Ida, and she’d never let him forget it.

She could have wept at the useless sentimentality of it, of the gentle familiarity of familial hands, at the seething loyalty storming across his face.

“The fuck did they do?” he articulated at last, voice gravelly as shit but also reminiscent of the squeaky olden days when his castrato role suddenly no longer served one Sunday in choir.

“You’ve got legs.” she answered instead, sounding maniacal in her happiness.

He looked at her like she’d gone fully crazy as well as beat, “Yeah? Yeah I do.”

“They said, they said you didn’t.” she chuckled, a bizarre merriment trying to take hold in her relief, “During interrogation, that bespectacled cunt told me you had your legs crushed when you crashed.”

“No? No- no I jumped.” He insisted, then let go of her face to step back and gesture to two fit legs, as long and lanky as she remembered, as long and lanky as her own. “I jumped, I’m fine. They told you that?”

“Yeah.” Ida said, “Told me the longer I didn’t comply the longer you were without medical attention. I -I’ve been so…uneasy…about you.”

“I’m fine.” He repeated, hands back on her shoulders and she was grateful for it despite the bruises he was gripping, grateful for the way he kept touching her like he was going to hold her together with his own two hands, same blood, same flesh, same memories, maybe whatever she’d lost he could supply back like a blood donation. “Those sons of bitches.” he cursed them.

“Plasma for planes.” she agreed.

He kept looking at her, at her cheek and at her ragged hair and at the missing buttons, “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” he suddenly asked, wide eyed. “You know i’d rather die than have you tell.”

Ida scoffed, and gave him a grin, the best one she could manage with her cheek and split lip, “What do you take me for, Johnny?”

“A cold hearted bitch, I hope.” he returned the small smile but his voice cracked, still that hint of something long gone and juvenile.

“That’s what their Lieutenant called me.” Ida confirmed, a little proud, and sensing a renewal of his inquiries, Ida chose to take the offensive and call out for a conspicuously absent Kendeigh, “Candy! Didn’t you want to tell Johnny about your charming admirer? The Lieutenant?”

Kendeigh came round the doorway hastily, her lips puffy and cheeks oddly red. Cleven followed after and matched her, and his blush did nothing but highlight those scars of his. “Brady.” Maureen greeted, boldly hugging Ida’s very stiff brother without care —due to his red cheeks and rigid shoulders Ida concluded Cleven had given his own inner-relations talk to the men—, “Yes, I wanted to -oh hello Crank, Benny you son of gun- wanted to tell y'all about my ticket outta here -hell Hambone, how’d you manage to get uglier? -see my integrator, he found me fairly fetching. I think one of these days he’s gonna roll up in his shiny car and take me away from here and you’re all gonna wish you’d taken time to learn a little know-how about Alligators and their hibernation tactics in the winter. He was enthralled.”

There was an awkward silence hanging in the room, Crank grimaced a smile out of sheer generosity of heart and Benny Demarco still sat with his cigarette neglected on his open lip. Cleven, used to her preening brazness kept a tight lip, though a thousand questions seemed to swirl in his eyes.

“He the one who stood on your hands?” John Brady asked her without hesitancy.

Maureen whirled round then, comedy hour over and an angry flush creeping up her neck at his directness. “No.” she snapped. “Can’t some of them be alright?”

“A German’s a German.” he countered.

“There’s Fitzs and then there’s Johanns.” she disagreed nebulously and only Ida got her reference.

“And a shower is a shower,” Ida butted in before this became an experiment in an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force “which we need, badly. We’re…filthy.”

“We’ve got working sinks, trough sinks.” Cleven clarified with an apologetic look as if it were his fault the showers only ran once a week and poorly at that, and the water they had was frigid already in autumn.

“Water is water.” Ida reasoned in return, wondering when Johnny was going to finally let go of her arm.

“We’ll clear it out for ya.” Cleven said.

“And we’ll guard the entrance.” John added emphatically.

“Thanks.” Ida muttured, “Some of us could use to mend our uniforms.” she added, refusing to blanch at the subtle inventory of her jagged tears and crusted blood being made by every man in the room.

Maureen at least had her jacket intact. Her cap, too.

“Here, you can have my trousers while I stitch yours.” her John decided and was unbuckling his belt before she even registered the hand gone from her shoulder.

“What?” Ida balked, “You’re going to go ‘round in your skivvies?”

“Not as uncommon around here as you’d think, Ida.” Gale said, a small smile on his face. “I’m afraid order and decorum has gone to shit without you.”

“Well I’m here now.” she replied sternly but didn’t stop Johnny as he stripped.

“And so am I.” Kendeigh grinned and all Ida could do was to bless the saints for having let only one terror into the camp, were Bucky Egan to be here too, things would become intolerably lax. As soon as she thought it she repented it, sending up a prayer for the poor, absent bastard.

“Say Benny, you’re shorter, can I have your pants?” Maureen pleaded.

“Why mine?” Demarco protested, only offended at the height implication.

“Because Cleven’s too tall and I’ve already been in his pants.”

“Maureen!”

“Ida, order somebody to give me their pants.”

“You can have mine.” Crank offered kindly, and then stood up and bashfully began to unlayer. It left him in skivvies, a snuggly sweater and his flight jacket.

“It’s a good look, Crank,” Maureen grinned at the finished product as he handed the trousers over. “I’m seeing you in a different light.”

“Maureen!”

“Just sayin-“

“Take the pants with you to the washroom!” Brady interjected desperately as Maureen looked ready to strip right here and now. “Jesus, Kendeigh.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Maureen ribbed him, out for blood in her tired state and if she couldn’t have that of the Germans she would of her friends’.

“Alright let’s - let’s settle down.” Gale implored, a tired expression firmly etched onto his face and Ida herself considered giving up on the wash altogether and tumbling into the available bunk to court the oblivion of sleep. Were it only blood and dirt she just might, her usual tidiness be damned.

As it was -it was, there was…the filth was so much worse.

And if Ida thought on it too long she’d go mad and want to pour boiling lye on herself to wash herself clean and to kill the shame of it. She’d have to scrub the pants before she gave them to Johnny to be mended, it was bad enough for a brother to see the blood and busted seams.

“Yes, settle down for God’s sake.” she echoed Cleven, and something about her hoarse voice compelled Maureen to temper herself more than any direct order could. “A wash, come on, let’s get the girls. Oh and one more thing, Cleven-“ Ida turned to Gale and found him alert, eager to help. She was afraid she was only setting him up for failure but she had to make an effort to find those “remedies” she’d promised Sanchez. “There any lemons around?”

The incredulous look on his face suggested he thought she knew better, but he was ever polite in his reply, “No, colonel. No lemons.”

“Mm. Nutmeg?” she tried to recall each wicked trick she’d heard condemned when a girl got herself in the family way without the needed family in place.

“No, no nutmeg.”

“Mm.”

“Nothing but potatoes and cigarettes, ma’am. Do you- why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” she assured, “Just, a hot toddy sounds good right about now. You know?”

“Uh,” he floundered, half in suspicion and half in genuine confusion, “never had one.”

“Well then,” she grinned as she passed him, “that’s something to add to our to-do list for when this is all over. Jameson, though, none of that Kentucky stuff.”

“Yes ma’am.” his tone was vacant, smiling concern brittle, “You uh, you alright, Colonel?”

Ida gave him a withering look and then Gale too, had cause to be repentant.

“Come on Kendeigh, let's get the rest.” Ida gestured as she followed Gale back into the hall, aware of Johnny’s eyes still on her, still taking stock, “They better not be in bunks without a wash. Come on, showers, everyone! Out, come on out. You can sleep afterwards. Out! Would one of you be so kind as to wake us up in time for roll call?” she inquired of the male officers straggling behind her in the hall.

“Course! Yeah, for sure.” about five offers went up.

“You wake Me up.” she clarified coming to a full stop, wary of the enthusiasm, “I’ll wake up the rest.”

“I’ll get you up.” Her John said.

He’d probably sit and watch her sleep, too, needle and torn pants in hand, like a creepy little owl but that was one of those things she figured make or break a family, you either find it endearing you have a brother who rarely blinks or you go mad. Today, after all of it, she didn’t mind having a guardian Angel. Or a watchdog. Speaking of-

“Hey,” she asked him, “you two flew out together, where’s Bucky?”

But no one had an answer for that, not even Little John.

💋Hope you enjoyed AND REMEMBER -prompts are now open.

Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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thegreatstoryteller · 1 year

Text

The Great Shift: Speed Dating

Ok, so dating in your 30s can be hard. Even harder after the world has suddenly decided all of its inhabitants would suddenly swap bodies! If you thought it was hard to truly get to know someone before, it was nearly impossible now. You’d think that the differences and bodies people were exposed too would lead to more emotionally intelligent people, but no. Instead shallow just comes in all sorts of new flavors these days!

“Wassup I’m Aidan!.I’m 24, well now I’m 34 due to the shift. And well you can see I’ve got a lot of good assets to show.”

I rolled my eyes as this wannabe tough guy was trying to impress me. Sure he had an incredibly built body and intricate tattoos, but it was all surface level!

“Nice to meet you Aidan. You go to all of these speed dating events without a shirt?” I asked gingerly sipping my water.

“Only when I’m talking to a handsome guy like yourself.”

Gag. If I had a dime for every post shift hottie said that.

“Charming. So Aidan tell me about yourself. I mean before the shift what did you do for a living? What do you do now?” I asked.

He scoffs. “I used to be a computer programmer. You know boring office stuff. Then I swapped into this juggernaut and been living at the gym ever since. Quit my old boring work and been trying to become a trainer at my local gym.”

“So let me get this straight. You were able to sustain yourself on a safe indoor office job and now you’re trying to go into a new occupation you have no experience in because you want to flaunt your muscles?” I inquired further arching my eyebrow.

“Um... when you put it like that...” Aidan stammered looking called out.

“Next!” I rang the bell on the table signalling the rotation and the next person to join my table.

Aidan slumped his massive 6′5 frame away looking dejected, but as soon as he started flexing to himself he shrugged and moved on. Maybe another guy would like this wannabe muscle guy. I just hope he was so driven by those muscles he’d have the motivation to maintain them. So many people received huge powerful bodies, but without the knowledge to maintain them they just went to waste.

“Hey there sexy? Fred is the name, dating you is my game.” A beefy looking firefighter said, with a burgeoning gut about to strain his suspenders.

“Wow. Coming on a bit strong Fred. Please. Start from the beginning. Your name is Fred. Great. What’s with the fire fighter attire? Are you a fire fighter or was your body a fire fighter before the shift?” I asked wincing at this cringe intro.

He smiles and strokes his beard appreciatively while at the same time flexing his beefy arm. “Well I’m not... yet! This body used to be the best firefighter in the district! Then all of a sudden the shift happen and I go from university student studying engineering to the most buff in shape guy with 6 pack abs I’ve ever seen!”

I look down and notice the obvious lack of abs. “Ok. Makes sense... so now you’re trying to be a firefighter? Just like your body before you. That’s... noble. I’m really glad to see you give back to the community.”

Fred smiled. “Thanks! I’ve been trying for awhile now, but I can’t get through the physical test! It’s like I’m not as strong as the guy who used this body. Weird. Right now I mostly play video games and stream shirtless in these suspenders. My viewers love seeing me. I’m FireXFighter69 on Twitch and YouTube! Check out my video on-”

“Next!” I say ringing the bell once more.

“Damn. Didn’t work out... are you gonna finish your food there? You hardly touched it.” Fred pointed at the snacks provided at the table.

“Sure Fred. Good luck on your next date.” I said as Fred left with the plate of food.

Some people could be oblivious of their own faults and try way too hard. Am I asking too much for people to just be honest and not hide behind some sort of facade? I get people can be nervous, but it’s certainly better than trying to get to know a character who isn’t even real.

“Hey there bitch!”

“You’re hot as fuck and I know you need a real man to show you how it’s done.”

I didn’t know how to respond to such an abrupt entrance. I thought Aidan was cringe, but this guy was a whole new level. Flexing in my face, flipping me off, calling me names? Was he trying to neg me in less than 5 minutes?

“I can see you’re stunned by my natural masculinity. I don’t blame you. I’m an older guy given a second chance in this buff young jock. I found myself out of shape at 50 thrown into this guy mid football game. I’m no stranger to the gym so i just buffed myself up even more than that kid could. Now I’m here and ready to fuck you. So. What do you say? Wanna get out of here and ditch all these idiots?”

“Next! Sooo much next! You don’t get to dominate the conversation like this And you are NOT the type for any reasonable person here. I hope you find some sub willing to put up with your shit.” I retorted with a glare.

I see the guy in front of me blanch embarrassed! “Bastard! You’d be lucky to have me. I oughta!” He raised his hand to slam the table! Or me! But soon security escorted him out.

“I.... wow. That’s the worst one to end on. But I might as well go. There are clearly not any guys for me here.” I was about to get up when this cuter guy came over.

“Hello! I... wow. I saw what happened. Great job for standing up to that guy. He seemed like such a creep. I’m Elijah by the way... were you heading out?”

I was caught off guard. This man was so handsome! He wasn’t posturing like the rest, but I still he was making an honest effort despite his trepedation. His voice faltered a bit, but its deep resonate tones made that sound sweet. He was holding himself in a reserved posture, but even as he nervously clasped his hands I could see biceps raise and strain his shirt.

“I was... but I think I’d like to get to know you. I’m Omar. I just turned away a few guys who were being absolute jerks. How about you? Elijah was it?” I said a bit blushing.

“Yeah! Well I recently graduated post great shift. I finished my last semester at the local community college in a new body. I’m in my neighbors body. Big guy! Great beard, but I’m still getting used to maintaining it. I’ll admit. I’m working part time at the local library till I find a job more suitable for what I studied in school. I’m 22, but my new biological age is 35. I do some painting in my free time and love exploring new parts of the city now that a lot of it has been rebuilt since the shift.” Elijah explained.

“Oh! Have you checked out the bar across town? It used to be a gay bar called The Tank! Now it’s changed its name to The Sea! Since there’s so many more sexualities represented there!” I offered.

“Haha! Love that. That’s clever! The tank has gotten bigger! I get it! I uh... Maybe you and I could continue our conversation there, over drinks?” Elijah blushed.

“I’d like that. Let’s get out of here!” We both stood up and took each others hands. Gosh his were so warm. Not to mention they felt so strong. He’s got quite the grip! I took a few steps so enamored by him I nearly fell, until he caught me in his arms. My face went right across his chest as I looked up to him before standing back up.

“Thanks for the catch. I uh.. Wow. You’ve got quite the cologne. What’s that scent?” I asked so curiously.

“Oh! Sorry!” Elijah was blushing even more. “I’m not wearing any. That’s just how my body smells. Hope it wasn’t bad.”

My eyes widen again. “It’s fine. Perfect actually. I love it. Lead the way Elijah.”

Elijah giggled. Hearing such a deep voice let out something so whimsical was the cutest thing I’ve seen tonight.

“I feel so lucky walking out of this place with you Omar.” Elijah said.

“Oh come on. I’m sure you would’ve found an awesome guy to spend then night with. You’re quite the charmer.” I retorted.

“I’m not the one looking like Henry Cavil!” Elijah laughed.

We both laughed. It was true. Ever since I looked like a celeb dating has been so hard. People try so hard to impress me, that it was such a breath air to talk to Elijah like a normal person.

“Well tonight I really do feel like the man of steel because you are making me quite hard.” I smirked at Elijah, now blushing to the max.

“I... I... normally cheesy lines like that don’t work on me, but coming for you I.... gosh let’s get to that bar!”

We ended up walking aware from that speed date very satisfied. Perhaps even the hot people need help finding love after the shift. Who knows. I never said I was perfect, but tonight I sure am excited to see how far Elijah and I go!

#The Great Shift #body swap #thegreatstoryteller #race change #racial change

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thepixelelf · 8 months

Text

Oh Baby, You Part 23 - All it Takes is a Smile

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It's not a new thing he's learned today— that Wonwoo hates being home alone.

Still, it settles in again as he ambles aimlessly around the apartment. A half-empty coffee cup sits in his hand, long gone cold by now. Although it's a Saturday, Junhui is at the lab, and Minghao is in his studio, working on a new, large scale piece.

Wonwoo sighs as he submits another letter of intent. His intent is to get his sorry ass out of this slump he's in, but that's not what any potential employers need to know.

He hears the crying before someone knocks frantically at the door.

On any other day like this one, Wonwoo might let his shoulders slump, slowly rise from his worn down gaming chair, and go grab the food he ordered online — after assuring the delivery person has already left so he doesn’t have to interact with any humans who might find him pitiful. But he hasn’t ordered anything today, and the crying…

That little boy?

Wonwoo finds himself up on his feet and opening the front door before he really understands what’s going on.

Your son, face scrunched up and one hand curled in a fist in front of his eyes, sobs at the volume of a small jet engine. His other hand is attached to a larger one, and Wonwoo’s eyes follow the joined arms up to the face of a man he vaguely recognizes. He’s not you — that’s what Wonwoo’s brain registers first, as unhelpful as that is.

Next, he sees the cloth clutched in the man’s other hand, and how it’s slowly soaking through with red.

“Hey,” the guy says breathlessly, a smile on his face for reasons Wonwoo can’t possibly comprehend. “Thank god you were in there— I think I need stitches.” He raises his hand with the cloth. The boy is still crying. “Can you drive? And watch the little guy?”

Wonwoo doesn’t think. He just nods.

There’s a booster seat in the guy’s — Chan, he introduced himself as — car, which is an automatic, to Wonwoo’s temporary relief. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he couldn’t drive to the hospital. The bloody cloth in Chan’s hand is starting to freak him out. Not more than how relaxed Chan seems in the backseat, though.

He’s spent most of the ride just calming the crying boy down, who doesn’t seem to be hurt himself, just worried for this Chan character.

“Who… are you?” Wonwoo asks, then corrects himself. “I mean, how do you know— I mean, are you their…?”

Don’t say boyfriend. God, please don’t say boyfriend.

Chan’s eyes meet Wonwoo’s in the rear view mirror while he internally chides himself for still caring,

“I’m their friend,” he says. “Are you?”

The question stumps Wonwoo.

Is he your friend? He doesn’t think so. Not now, surely.

Why does Chan want to know? He must have seen Wonwoo’s great escape from the boy’s birthday party. How much have you told him about your shared past?

Why is Chan looking at Wonwoo so intently?

“I used to be,” is the answer he settles on. It sounds about right, as much as it hurts to say.

Chan tilts his head. “What happened?”

Frowning, Wonwoo glances at your son, who’s currently distracted by a squishy foam ball. Still, is this guy really asking that question in front of your kid?

“I moved.”

“Why?”

“I got into a university program in Mongolia.”

Chan hums, nodding. “So you left.”

“You don’t—” Wonwoo bites back a growl, breathes out, and speaks through gritted teeth. “You don’t know me.”

The last few minutes of the drive are silent, save for the child’s occasional babbling.

When they get to the hospital, the boy tries to follow Chan into the examination room, but Chan practically drops him on Wonwoo’s lap. “Stay with Uncle Wonwoo, okay Orion? The doctor is going to fix me right up and I’ll be back suuuuper soon.”

Uncle Wonwoo.

He knows Chan must’ve said that to placate the child, but Wonwoo wonders if Chan knows how those two words twist something deep in his gut.

If he had stayed, all those short years ago, would he be something else to this boy?

A dad?

Wonwoo wraps his arms securely around Orion, who’s starting to sniffle again at the sight of Chan walking away. He bounces his leg. Babies like that, right? It’s not just his nerves.

Once Chan finally disappears around a corner, Orion twists and looks up at Wonwoo, studying his face for the first time.

“Ah,” he says. “Bad guy.”

Wonwoo blinks down at the boy. “Bad… guy?” He points at himself. “Me?”

Orion nods, the movement exaggerated and slow. “You. Mama cry.”

The words take a moment to reach Wonwoo’s brain. Mostly because he can’t believe them. You’re the one who…

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo says anyway. It’s not on the child to deal with your and Wonwoo’s adult problems. Better that he doesn’t know. Better that he never see Wonwoo again, in all honesty. He doesn’t need to know what his parent did to hurt Wonwoo. That he is a product of that hurt.

Orion climbs up and plants his tiny feet on Wonwoo’s legs, then puts one hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder and the other on his head. Softly, he pats Wonwoo’s hair. “Don’t cry,” he says, and only then does Wonwoo realise he must’ve been letting his emotions shine through. Orion balances on Wonwoo’s lap, both hands moving to stretch wide at his sides, like he’s the sun itself. He beams. “We happy!”

Something warms in Wonwoo at the young boy's kindness towards a "bad guy", but then Orion begins to lean backward.

Instinctively, Wonwoo scrambles to wrap both arms around the boy again, lest he fall. In that moment, he sees it.

Your eyes.

But, not your smile.

It’s familiar, but not yours.

No.

Mingyu’s.

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oby tagging 1, 50/50: @shiningstar-byulxx @shuabby-woowoo @90s-belladonna @xavi-in-kpopland @kachren @xmessaroundx @chwevernonlover @kwanisms @dalamjisung @1ntaktak @imhereforfunstuff @crazywittysassy @butterfliesinthenightsky @ddaengpotate @dorrysstuff @ckline35 @vanishingboots @potatofrieswithketchup @minhwa @oncecaratorbit @sugacookees @royal9 @doodlelibrary @myjaeyunn @yksthings @jundundun @amosmortese @jaeskz @seungmintree @woozarts @my-chaos-in-stars @yoonychoik @ksywoo @kellesvt @candidupped @sharkipoonis @wooahaeproductions @capsiclesworld @hellodefthings @sunshineshouchan @calumsfringe @caratinluv @pinkysinnerbaby @winterwallacehenderson @jvhoons @woo8hao @sxftiell @wondering-out-loud

#seventeen smau #seventeen social media au #svt smau #svt social media au #wonwoo smau #wonwoo social media au #jeon wonwoo smau #jeon wonwoo social media au #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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elbiotipo · 2 months

Text

If you're from Argentina, you've probably heard about the Iberá wetlands, and you know the tourist pitch: a vast expanse of natural wonders in the middle of Corrientes, full of beautiful lapachos, cute carpinchos and yacarés, and now home to the fastest-growing wild yaguareté population, all with the unique Guaraní influenced culture of rural Corrientes.

Now, things aren't as shiny as they look, since the creation and management of the new national park is still a point of contention in many ways, but you will be suprised that this kind of thinking about the Iberá is very, very recent. Most people considered it an obstacle to progress, a big bunch of swamp in the middle of what could be a very productive ranching province. In a geography book from the 1910s (unfortunately I lost the screencap) it says something like "the biggest obstacle for the development of the province is this swamp, and it should be drained"

This took me to the other side of the world, to the Netherlands. They're known for land reclamation, from literally building their country from the sea. Especially when we're facing rising sea levels because of climate change, the Dutch seem like miracle workers, a look into our future. You will find no shortage of praise about how with some windmills and dams, the Dutch took land "from the sea", and turned it into quaint little polders, making a tiny country in Europe a food exporter and don't they look so nice? But when you look about it, you can barely find anything about what came before those polders. You have to dig and dig to find any mentions of not "sea", but of complex tidal marshes and wetlands, things I've learned are ecologically diverse and protected in many places, but you won't find people talking about that at all when talking about the Netherlands. It's all just polders now. What came before was useless swamp, or a sea to be triumphantly conquered. It's like they were erased from history

The use of that language reminded me of the failed vision of draining Iberá... and the triumphing vision in the Netherlands, and many other places. Maybe those wonderful places, those unique wetlands, would have been a footnote, you wouldn't find anything unless you were a bored ecologist who looked, and not even then. Now, far it be from me to accuse the medieval Dutch, who wanted to have more space to farm, of ecocide. And don't think this is going to be a rant against European ecological imperialism either, as the most anthropized places you can find are actually in China and India. But it does get me thinking.

I work with the concept of landscape, and landscape managing. (Not landscaping, those guys get better paid than me) The concept of landscape is somewhat similar to the concept of ecosystem you know from basic biology, but besides biotic and abiotic factors, you also have to involve cultural factors, that is, humans. There is not a single area of "pristine" untouched nature in the world, that is a myth. Humans have managed these landscapes for as long as they have lived in them. The Amazon, what many people think about when they think about "unspoilt" nature, has a high proportion of domesticated plants growing on it, which were and are still used by the people who live on it, and there once were great civilizations thriving on it. Forests and gardens leave their mark, so much that we can use them to find abandoned settlements. From hunter-gatherers tending and preserving the species vital to their survival in the tundra to engineers in Hong-Kong creating new islands for airports, every human culture has managed their natural resources, creating a landscape.

And this means these landscapes we enjoy are not natural creations. They are affected by natural enviroments; biomes do exist, species have a natural distribution. But they are created and managed by humans. Humans who decide what is valuable to them and what is not. The Dutch, seemingly, found the tidal marshes useless, and they created a new landscape, which changed the history of their nation forever. We here in modern Argentina changed our perception of Iberá, decided to take another approach, and now we made it a cherished part of our heritage, which will also speak about us in the future.

Ultimately, what is a useless swamp to be drained or a beautiful expanse of nature to be cherished depends in our culture, in us humans. We are the ones who manage and change ecosystems based in our economics, our culture, our society. This will become increasingly important, as climate change and ecological degradation becomes harsher and undeniable. We will have to decide what nature is worth to us. Think about what is it worth to you.

#I REALLY had to restrain myself not to make a football joke about the netherlands #cosas mias #ecology #biology #culture #cultural landscapes

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commodorez · 3 months

Note

If the Commodore 64 is great, where is the Commodore 65?

It sits in the pile with the rest of history's pre-production computers that never made it. It's been awhile since I went on a Commodore 65 rant...

The successor to the C64 is the C128, arguably the pinnacle of 8-bit computers. It has 3 modes: native C128 mode with 2MHz 8502, backwards compatible C64 mode, and CP/M mode using a 4MHz Z80. Dual video output in 40-column mode with sprites plus a second output in 80-column mode. Feature-rich BASIC, built in ROM monitor, numpad, 128K of RAM, and of course a SID chip. For 1985, it was one of the last hurrahs of 8-bit computing that wasn't meant to be a budget/bargain bin option.

For the Amiga was taking center stage at Commodore -- the 16-bit age is here! And its initial market performance wasn't great, they were having a hard time selling its advanced capabilities. The Amiga platform took time to really build up momentum square in the face of the rising dominance of the IBM PC compatible. And the Amiga lost (don't tell the hardcore Amiga fanboys, they're still in denial).

However, before Commodore went bankrupt in '94, someone planned and designed another successor to the C64. It was supposed to be backwards compatible with C64, while also evolving on that lineage, moving to a CSG 4510 R3 at 3.54MHz (a fancy CMOS 6502 variant based on a subprocessor out of an Amiga serial port card). 128K of RAM (again) supposedly expandable to 1MB, 256X more colors, higher resolution, integrated 3½" floppy not unlike the 1581. Bitplane modes, DAT modes, Blitter modes -- all stuff that at one time was a big deal for rapid graphics operations, but nothing that an Amiga couldn't already do (if you're a C65 expert who isn't mad at me yet, feel free to correct me here).

The problem is that nobody wanted this.

Sure, Apple had released the IIgs in 1986, but that had both the backwards compatibility of an Apple II and a 16-bit 65C816 processor -- not some half-baked 6502 on gas station pills. Plus, by the time the C65 was in heavy development it was 1991. Way too late for the rapidly evolving landscape of the consumer computer market. It would be cancelled later that same year.

I realize that Commodore was also still selling the C64 well into 1994 when they closed up shop, but that was more of a desperation measure to keep cash flowing, even if it was way behind the curve by that point (remember, when the C64 was new it was a powerful, affordable machine for 1982). It was free money on an established product that was cheap to make, whereas the C65 would have been this new and expensive machine to produce and sell that would have been obsolete from the first day it hit store shelves. Never mind the dismal state of Commodore's marketing team post-Tramiel.

Internally, the guy working on the C65 was someone off in the corner who didn't work well with others while 3rd generation Amiga development was underway. The other engineers didn't have much faith in the idea.

The C65 has acquired a hype of "the machine that totally would have saved Commodore, guise!!!!1!11!!!111" -- saved nothing. If you want better what-if's from Commodore, you need to look to the C900 series UNIX machine, or the CLCD. Unlike those machines which only have a handful of surviving examples (like 3 or 4 CLCDs?), the C65 had several hundred, possibly as many as 2000 pre-production units made and sent out to software development houses. However many got out there, no software appears to have surfaced, and only a handful of complete examples of a C65 have entered the hands of collectors. Meaning if you have one, it's probably buggy and you have no software to run on it. Thus, what experience are you recapturing? Vaporware?

The myth of the C65 and what could have been persists nonetheless. I'm aware of 3 modern projects that have tried to take the throne from the Commodore 64, doing many things that sound similar to the Commodore 65.

The Foenix Retro Systems F256K:

The 8-Bit Guy's Commander X16

The MEGA65 (not my picture)

The last of which is an incredibly faithful open-source visual copy of the C65, where as the other projects are one-off's by dedicated individuals (and when referring to the X16, I don't mean David Murray as he's not the one doing the major design work).

I don't mean to belittle the effort people have put forth into such complicated projects, it's just not what I would have built. In 2019, I had the opportunity to meet the 8-Bit Guy and see the early X16 prototype. I didn't really see the appeal, and neither did David see the appeal of my homebrew, the Cactus.

Build your own computer, build a replica computer. I encourage you to build what you want, it can be a rewarding experience. Just remember that the C65 was probably never going to dig Commodore out of the financial hole they had dug for themselves.

#commodore #c65 #commodore 65

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love-me-purple · 7 months

Text

movie night with the v3 boys

cw: slight nsfw and cursing in a few of em. spoilers of ET in kaito’s

a/n: might make a 1 and 2 vers. !! naur I did a few light puns in a few of them if you spot them tell me. under the cut cause it’s kinda long

Shuichi

➼ he’s so sweet

➼ he prioritizes you fully! he gives you the blankets, the snacks, he lets you choose the movie; he does everything.

➼ even if he sits on the sofa cold, hungry, and terribly quiet.

➼ he doesn’t complain a bit.

➼ you notice him shivering slightly a couple minutes into the movie, and even after he protested against getting a half in your luxury, you snuggled against him and buried him under the warm covers.

➼ once you did, he whimpered slightly against you. it just felt so nice. not the fluffy sheets, not the delectable food, and even though the movie was pretty great, you next to him really made the experience better.

➼ he moved closer next to you, kissing you on the cheek. you made him kiss you on the lips after.

➼ the movie run ends with cuddling and tangled arms and legs, overall super fluffy.

Kokichi

➼ large pillow forts with lots of soft pillows and thick blankets. he turns the ac and all the coolers on just so it’ll turn super cold in the house, leading you to bury yourself under the blankets and cuddle closer to him.

➼ he sometimes teases you by stealing the snacks and blankets, making you pissed off and subconsciously pinning him to the carpet floor.

➼ he tries turning the simple, pure movie night into a netflix and chill i SWEAR

➼ he flips the tables and climbs on top of you - kissing you lightly on the lips with a smug look. ➼ and then he gets up and goes back to watching the movie like nothing happened

➼ he’S GETTING HIS ASS beat TONIGHT

➼ interpret that any way you want

➼ anyways, if he’s not in that mood, he’s very chatty during movies. ➼ he’ll comment nonstop and predict the future with pretty accurate predictions.

➼ his habit of doing that will, if you don’t already, bring you to do the same.

Rantaro

➼ this guy is so romantic

➼ kisses, smooth; non - pushover pick - up lines, basically everything you’d expect from a good gushy mushy date.

➼ he likes playing with your hair. tangles, small braids, etc. if you don’t have hair, then / another option for him is he runs his hands down your arms and hands.

➼ he draws small patterns on your skin with his fingers while kissing you on the head.

➼ he loves it when you do it to him as well, so by all means, go ahead !!

➼ nooo but the chips with dip are absolute perfection adding to the mix. if you don’t like that kind of thing, he’ll get, like, anything you’d like to eat during the movie -

➼ the prices don’t mean aNYthing to him, he’s happy to spend money for you no matter what it is <3

➼ perfect night for netflix and chill

K1 - B0

➼ he’s a robot. he can’t be cold, he can’t eat, and so all he has to do is sit back and watch.

➼ people (miu) helped him with what to do and how to act during the movie -

➼ he’s so awkward, in a cute way. he’ll get closer to you as the movie progresses, trying to be discreet but pretty much failing.

➼ you pretend you don’t notice though, for his sake.

➼ he’s tense during the movie. but with a few calming, reassuring words - he calms down a bit and attempts to kiss you as a sign of thanks.

➼ oh he also looks up on his mental search engine how to act normal and such and comes across the term of ‘activities’ during watching movies / shows

➼ and then he overheats for a bit (thankfully while you were in the bathroom -)

➼ guess he didn’t have safe search on

Korekiyo

➼ horror / documentaries. if you don’t like those things, then …

➼ he likes it when you braid his hair. with any other person he’d kinda just be like ehhh, but when it’s you …

➼ he’s such a simp.

➼ he’s pretty chill, doesn’t really talk except for the parts when either you’re talking, something’s factually wrong, or when something especially pisses him off (usually when the characters are especially dumb).

➼ he likes having his hands free, so, of course, you have the blanket and snacks.

➼ he nuzzles his head into your neck and hair during sweet and overall ushy gushy moments.

➼ yeah

➼ he’s only human after all

Gonta

➼ like shuichi; he gives the blanket, the snacks, and is awfully quiet.

➼ there’s a sort of worried look on his face, like you won’t like doing this and it’ll never happen again.

➼ he asks you like every couple minutes if you’re okay - nonstop until you reassure him.

➼ because of his overall bulky, tall structure - you’re gonna need a few more blankets to cover him.

➼ and a lotta snacks if he’s especially hungry

➼ he’s the type of guy to watch smth like a bug’s life or the bee movie. and you’ll agree because he’ll be self - conscious of himself if you don’t.

➼ it’s either that or bug documentaries. he hates horror films, especially if it has bugs in it that are thoroughly portrayed incorrectly.

➼ he gets so angry it’s almost funny

➼ until you don’t calm him down and he goes to storm the director’s / producer’s place then uh good luck

Kaito

➼ tries to be romantic and kinda fails.

➼ the whole mood is sorta goofy. comedy / horror / sci - fi def. if it’s horror though, expect him to scream loudly and cling to you. and then for him to make up an excuse like, “i wasn’t scared! i was just … amazed by the stars in the sky in the film! so … spread out!”

➼ if it’s sci - fi, it’s definitely ET

➼ he cries softly when ET dies. and then he says, “I JUST GOT SOMETHING IN MY EYE WAHHH”

➼ comedy’s chaotic, but pretty fun with him. he tries so hard not to laugh, but when he does, his LaUgh

➼ it depends. it either sounds like a hyena crossed with a donkey or just a hysterical, soft sound.

➼ either way, movie nights with him are always a blast.

Ryoma

➼ he’s smooth. and he predicts the movie in his head, and shows barely emotion during sad, emotional, funny, or romantic moments. like none at all.

➼ but once he gets used to being with you during movies and finding out what exactly you like, he starts showing bits of emotion here and there.

➼ like outward pity. and sadness. and laughter.

➼ sharing is caring when it comes to blankets and snacks. sometimes when both of you reach into the bag / bowl / plate / etc. at the same time, and y’know your hands touch? he’ll squeeze your hand and bring it up to kiss it.

➼ SOME CHEEZY THING LIKE THAT

➼ and then he’ll just smile slightly at you. no matter what reaction you have.

➼ yeah other than that it’s pretty normal! still a hit tho

#drv3 #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #rantaro amami #kaito momota #kiibo #keebo #k1 b0 #gonta gokuhara #ryoma hoshi #korekiyo shinguji #mod kokichi #headcannons #danganronpa v3 #danganronpa #x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #movie night

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leclerc-s · 4 months

Text

paint the town red - bonus part

series masterlist

EPISODE 10 - AN UNEXPECTED PURCHASE

charles stands with max, before their final press conference of the season, when lance approaches them. he greets both of them before turning to charles, "what happened? twitter is losing it's mind."

charles laughs, max also looks visibly confused, "oh mate, the craziest thing happened."

"STARK!" lando is heard shouting before he appears in the camera's view. he crashes into charles, gripping his shoulders, "TONY FUCKING STARK JUST BOUGHT THE TEAM?"

"what?" max questioned, "who bought what team? and what are you doing here, you're supposed to be in the media pen?"

"TONY STARK JUST BOUGHT FERRARI MAX!"

"oh," lance said, "that's why twitter is losing it."

"losing it?" lando questioned, "twitter is in shambles lance. it's not everyday a fucking avenger buys an f1 team."

"correct me if i'm wrong," daniel says, approaching the group, "but didn't tony stark get attacked at the monaco grand prix ages ago?

"you should ask fernando about that," charles told lance. the canadian looked confused before realization hit him, "right, fernando's been driving as long as oscar's been alive."

"we are completely and utterly fucked if tony stark just bought ferrari. you think the red bull dominance was bad, ferrari is about to completely annihilate us," lando complained.

daniel laughed, "well, i'm sure you guys will enjoy fighting for that p3. my tractor and i will enjoy fighting for points."

will buxton sits in front of the camera, "there's not many times when the world of formula one falls silent. in 1994, it fell silent to mourn the death of ayrton senna, then again in 2014 to mourn jules bianchi. zhou's nearly fatal crash and romain's near death experience rendered it silent for a moment before it all went back to normal. but this, this is one of those moments where it all falls silent before exploding. no one saw this coming, that's how unexpected this was. we never thought we'd hear the news that a billionaire had purchased the oldest standing team in formula one. let alone an avenger."

we now see christian horner in front of the camera, “i think i’m more so upset about the fact that ferrari will now be able to steal the championship from us. if there’s one thing i know about tony stark is that he is one competitive son of a bitch. there will be no more half-assed pit stops and strategies from ferrari, that you can count on. and with his daughter as one of the race engineers and a lead engineer, that car is going to be a rocket ship. it just means the rest of us will have up our game.”

toto wolff sits in front of the camera, replacing christian horner, “this is not the first time someone has purchased a formula one team. i do not know why they are acting like this is a first. yes, ferrari will be difficult to beat next year. they will know what they are doing, but we will not give up without a fight. next year will be an interesting year for us all.”

in front of the camera now sits tony stark, his signature blue tinted glasses sit on his face. he smiles at someone off camera, before turning to the producer, "need me to take off the glasses?"

"if you would," the producer answered, "name and title please."

tony looks at the camera, "my name is tony stark and i am the new owner of scuderia ferrari's formula one team. oh! and i am iron man!"

"mr. stark, what led you to purchase the team?"

tony clears his throat, "my mother was italian and a big tifosi, she bled rosso corsa proudly. she never got the opportunity to see michael schumacher lead the team to the greatness he did. i kept up with the team in her memory, and in recent years the team hadn't been performing as well as a fan would've liked. i knew the current drivers, charles and carlos, were championship material. that much was obvious to me when sainz became the only non red bull driver to win a race in the 2023 season. for leclerc, well, there's a reason they call him il predestinato right? he won monza his maiden year with ferrari, that alone put him into the tifosi's good books. speaking of, i knew they were furious and after austin, i knew something had to be done. and if nobody else was going to do it, i was, so i bought the team."

"how confident are you that you can restore ferrari's old glory?"

"i trust my drivers and i trust my team, i think that says enough."

in front of the camera now sits an old face. sebastian vettel smiles brightly at the producer. the last time they had seen him he was in a green shirt and he looked tired, but the time away did him some good. he's happier now and back in ferrari red, back where he had started when the show first began.

"did you ever think you'd be back here?" the producer asked him. sebastian smiled, "honestly, no. i had left this all behind and i told myself i was never going to return to this sport. but when an opportunity like this comes around, you don't say no."

"are you happy with this new position or would prefer to be back in the car?"

"i'm happy with my job now."

“do you think you can help restore ferrari to its old glory?”

“yes,” sebastian quickly answers, “in the past ferrari had been stuck dwelling too much on its history. being stuck in the past for so long leads to no results. it leads to people demanding your first driver leave the team after constantly getting screwed over. we want the championship back in maranello and we will take it back. next year ferrari will put up one hell of a fight.”

“you’ve got a great team mr. vettel.”

“i know, i don’t plan on wasting it.”

charles smiles brightly at the camera, “hello.”

“hi charles,” the producer replies, “do you mind telling us what your first thought were when you heard the team had been bought? how did you find out?”

“i found out on twitter along with everyone else,” charles replied, “my first reaction was to text carlos to see if he knew, he was just as shocked as i was. no one had informed us the team had been bought much less who it had been bought by.”

“and how did you find out the team had been bought by tony stark?”

“when there was an emergency meeting called at maranello right before abu ahabi. carlos and i walked in to the factory and it felt like a different environment, people were excited and whispering to each other. you can imagine our surprise when we walked in to that meeting to see seb sitting with tony stark of all people.”

“i imagine it was a big shock?”

“yes,” charles answered, “mr. stark explained to us what he had done and told us that we should be expecting a whole new team when we arrived back from the final race of the season. it is exciting to know that things are changing.”

"is change a good thing?"

"in this case, it is. things needed to change if ferrari wants to be a championship contender once again. and this will be good for my friendship with carlos."

"are things strained between you two?"

"the truth? yes," charles replied, "it is difficult to go online and see people saying that you don't deserve your seat or that your teammate is better simply because he won a race when you haven't been able to do that this season. it places a sort of- tension? is that the word?" he looks at someone off camera, the person must nod because he turns to face the camera again, "carlos and i are good drivers, there is a reason we are formula one drivers. but the team, it has- it pit us against each other, that was what strained our friendship."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." charles laughs.

carlos looks at someone off camera, nodding at whatever they're saying, before turning to look at the producer, "hello," carlos greeted.

"hello carlos," the producer greeted, "can you tell us what your initial reaction was to learning the team had been bought?"

"i was shocked, i did not think it was possible for someone to buy the team, it's ferrari. but i also felt a bit relieved? i hope maybe things will change and we can have a decent shot at the championship."

"relieved? i don't think i've heard that one yet."

carlos chuckled, "my friendship with charles was strained after this season. i hope that with mr. stark as an owner we are able to put aside our work and our friendship to achieve the goal we have in common. to bring the championship back to ferrari."

"is it difficult to separate work and life off the track?"

"sometimes, yes. after singapore was when our friendship truly hit rock bottom. i think it was difficult for us to accept that only one of us was the 1st driver. everyone knows that it's charles, it has been since 2021, but i think after a while it was difficult for me to accept that. he's- charles is loved by the tifosi, he's loved by everyone because he's charles leclerc. sometimes it is difficult to be his teammate knowing people will always see me as second best."

"i see."

"i love the kid, trust me, i do. i value his friendship very much, but sometimes it is difficult. with stark as the owner, and sebastian as the new team principal, i am hoping things will change. even if charles is still first driver, i hope i am not treated as second best by my own team. sometimes change is good, this time i think it is."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." carlos answers.

will buxton is in front of the camera once again, "it will certainly be entertaining to see what ferrari manage to do next season. the lingering question that remains is, will the starks live up to the hype surrounding this purchase? i guess we'll just have to wait and see."

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! once again, merry christmas to those of you celebrate and a very wonderfully normal day to those of you who don't. either way, my gift to you is this bonus episode for paint the town red, i hope you enjoyed it. it is a pain figuring out how to write netflix style, it's over 1.7k words, although it may not look like it.

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airas-story · 6 months

Text

Got Your Back

“You know what,” Tony said, making a displeased face at the weird temple-thing that Stephen had brought them to. Stephen resisted telling him his face was going to get stuck that way. “This is not where I want to die.”

“We’re not going to die,” Stephen said, exasperated. “Though, even if we were, I promise you, I’ve died in worse places.”

Tony gave him one of those looks that made it clear that, while Tony loved him immeasurably, Stephen needed serious help.

Which sure, might be true, but Stephen was a very busy person. Sue him if getting help for his myriad of issues was not on his priority list.

No matter what Wong had to say about it. Wong could keep his opinions to himself.

“You really need to stop dying places,” Tony said bluntly. “Period. There’s no competition out there about who can die in the weirdest places or the most number of times. And if there were, I’m pretty sure you already won and are only competing with yourself at this point.”

Which, okay, might also be true. Didn’t mean Tony needed to point that out.

“I’ll work on it,” Stephen said noncommittally; it wasn’t his fault that there had been so many times when the best way to win involved dying. That and time loops were a thing that Stephen had made excellent use of.

He’d always been creative.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Tony said dryly. “It’s only your life on the line after all.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Stephen agreed. “So how about you leave me to worry about it. And if you’re worried about dying, then maybe you should sit this out.”

“You said that this was an Artificer’s Temple, and that you suspected they dabbled in mechanics,” Tony pointed out. “And that you might need a mechanic’s touch to disable any traps. So unless one of your fellow sorcerers has gone and gotten a PhD in engineering, I’m your best bet.”

He really was Stephen’s best bet, and Stephen knew it.

It was the only reason he was bringing Tony along anyways. He hated endangering Tony any more than he had to, especially since Tony was pretty much retired at this point—for now at least—his vision damaged in his right eye and his mechanical arm mostly untested. Though given that it had been a collaboration between Shuri and Tony, Stephen had no doubt that the arm was more than up for the task of anything Stephen could imagine.

Stephen focused back on the artificer temple that they had only discovered in their attempts to track Mordo. Ominous, he decided, would be a good description. The stone was pitch black and seemed to absorb the light around it, making the whole area feel dimmed and shadowed. It reeked of darkness that reminded Stephen of the dark dimension.

He glanced at Tony, reassuring himself that Tony was okay.

Tony must have felt his gaze, because he turned toward Stephen giving him a reassuring smile that only touched the left side of his face.

Burned or not, he was still the most beautiful, most precious man that Stephen had ever seen.

“Hey,” Tony reached out, taking his hand and giving it the softest of squeezes. “This is going to be fine. What’s a temple going to do, come alive and swallow us whole?”

Stephen groaned. “Thank you, Tony. You’ve now jinxed us. Because let’s face it, we both have the sort of luck that would include buildings trying to eat us.”

It was absolutely something that a talented enough artificer could pull off, that or a large enough group of artificers aimed at a larger purpose.

“Well, it would be an interesting way to go, at least,” Tony commented blithely. “So, what are we looking for anyways?” Tony asked, ignoring the comment about jinxing them. Tony was always good at ignoring things he didn’t want to acknowledge. It was almost impressive.

And no, Stephen wasn’t a hypocrite.

“Not sure,” Stephen admitted. “We just want to make sure that Mordo isn’t causing problems here.”

“Right. Your old mentor who decided it was time to steal the magic from everyone who doesn’t agree with him. Sounds like a great guy.”

Stephen flinched a little, there was still a part of him that felt a deep sting of betrayal at the thought of what Mordo was doing.

“That’s the one,” Stephen said, keeping his voice neutral. Tony winced and sent him an apologetic look. “Now let’s go, I don’t want to give him any more time to find ways to cause the rest of us problems than we have to.”

“After you, doc. I’ve got your back.”

Stephen smiled at him, this one genuine. “I know you do.”

#ironstrange #fic #tony stark #stephen strange

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rabbittf2x · 1 year

Note

mercs with S/O with sensory issues?

Mercs with a Reader that has sensory issues

Pyro💖

Pyro was very understanding and thoughtful when it came to your sensory issues. Whenever you had trouble with certain lights or sounds, he liked to lend you his spare gas mask. You couldn’t hear or see as clearly in it, which helped you calm down. You could also join him in Pyroland with it on! Pyro’s favourite thing to do was skip around with you there

But if he didn’t have an extra mask on him and you were feeling overstimulated, Pyro covered your eyes or ears with his hands. He got pretty protective over you, pulling you close and hiding you in his chest if you let him

Being snuggled up close to Pyro’s suit was super comforting. When things got bad, he loved nothing more but to let you cuddle up into him and rest your senses. The loveable little firebug would even hum you a song

Engineer💖

If you had sensory issues with loud noises, Engie tried to pipe it down when you were around. Because he liked it when you came to visit him in his workshop, and didn’t want to scare you away. So when you spent time with him while working, he steered clear of anything with loud bangs or zaps

Similar to Pyro, if you had trouble with any bright lights, he lent you his goggles to wear. They only dimmed the lighting down a tad, but it was the thought that counted. Engie also thought you looked so cute in them!

When with you, Engineer was always on the look out for anything that might trigger you. He was very protective over you, and it ripped him up to see you overstimulated

Spy💖

Spy understood your sensory issues. I mean, it was pretty easy to overstimulate while living with Team Fortress. He let you come hide away with him in his smoking room. It was the perfect place to relax if you had a sensory overload

You sat next to Spy by the fire, finally feeling some inner peace again. He was sipping on some scotch while passively flipping through a magazine. He was purposely trying to be quiet so you could cool off. You knew this and loved him for it

“Thank you, Spy… you’re a pretty great guy.”

Spy was kicking himself for it, but felt an unreasonably large amount of pride hearing you say that. Like he’d let you know that though

“De rien.” Spy muttered passively, not looking up from his magazine (he was giggling on the inside)

Heavy💖

You did not need to worry. Heavy would keep you safe. If he could, he’d crush every stupid little thing that gave you sensory issues to dust. Please tell him one of those stupid things was Scout. He’d love to crush Scout

You were lucky to be around Heavy most of the time. Because it was rare that anything he did would overload you with sensory issues. Er, well… unless you knew him on the battlefield. When at war, Heavy was loud, and fired this big, mean minigun. Being around that definitely wasn’t good for your mental health

Like said before, not to worry. Heavy never acted like that around you. With you, he became the softest, most gentle teddy bear of a man. He kept you close at all times, loving to snuggle or soothe you

Heavy may of acted like a saint when cuddling up with you, but if anyone rubbed one of your senses the wrong way? Dead :)

Sniper💖

“Nah, don’t worry, mate. Come hang out with me in the van!”

You could’ve considered yourself lucky that Sniper invited you into his camper… um, I think? It wasn’t like he ever let anyone else in there

Sniper felt for you. He didn’t like seeing you overwhelmed with sensory issues. It made him sad. :( so he often stole you away to come chill in his van. He kept the lights down low, as to not hurt your eyes. And he even offered you some coffee or a beer

Sniper kept stealing glances of you from across the camper, quietly taking in the subtleties of your beauty. He wanted to sit in this warm, comfortable silence with you forever. Little did he know, you felt the same way

“Thank you for letting me come in here, Mr Mundy. I really appreciate it.” You said softly

Sniper had to stifle the wobbly smile that tried to force its way onto his face

“No—no worries, darl.”

Scout💖

Scout finally learned how to keep his big mouth shut. It really hurt him the first time you flinched or shied away from him because he was being too loud. He felt so bad that he made you feel that way. Later, Scout caught up to you and set his hands on either of your shoulders

“I’m so sorry. I promise—I swear, I’ll talk less… loudly. I didn’t mean to scare ya like that.” He rambled

Your shoulders shook under his hands as you chuckled softly. “You’re so sweet, Scout. Thank you, but it’s okay.” You smiled

Scout was about to protest, to say he didn’t want to overstimulate you in any way… but you cut him off with a small peck to his cheek, making him blush deeply

“I like you just the way you are.”

Soldier💖

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M TALKING TOO LOUD?”

It took Soldier awhile to understand your sensory issues. He didn’t get at all that him yelling right in your ear was making you feel bad. Some of the other mercs may of needed to explain it better to him

Once Soldier finally realised what his constant yelling at you was doing to your mental health, he was very sorry. He didn’t mean it in a malicious way at all. In fact, quite the opposite! It was one of his ways of showing you affection, believe it or not

Soldier now resorted to more… conventional ways of expressing his love for you. Instead of shouting or firing weapons near you 24/7, he tried being quiet! :0 to show how sorry he was for causing you grief, he hugged you a lot more. He also made a good habit of whispering sweet nothings in your ear

Demoman💖

Demoman felt a little useless when he first found out about your sensory issues. He didn’t know how to help you. He usually just tried to make you laugh, which wasn’t hard. Especially when he was shit faced

If certain lights or bright screens were hurting your eyes, Demo just yanked the eyepatch right off his face and gave it to you. He covered one of your eyes with it, then shielded the other with his hand drunkenly

“Is that better?” He slurred

You couldn’t help but find his hasty attempt at soothing you cute. “Yes, Demo.” You laughed. “Yes, thank you. That helps.”

Spending drunken nights with Demo were a great way to steer clear from all things triggering to your senses. After a certain few drinks, he grew quiet and sleepy; the perfect cuddle buddy. Demoman loved to snuggle up close to you in your bed

Medic💖

Medic came up with many experiments and concoctions to improve your sensory issues. Don’t take it the wrong way. He was only trying to help! (I wouldn’t take anything he actually gave you though)

Medic got super cranky with the other mercs if they accidentally gave you a sensory overload. Whether it be by their loudness, weapons or unnecessary explosions, there was always something going on that was gonna shake you up

Medic hated seeing you all upset over loud noises or bright lights. It killed him to know there wasn’t anything long term he could do to help you

“Medic, stop it.” You shook your head with a smile. You wrapped your arms around the doctor in a warm hug, nuzzling into his chest. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine! Everything’s all good.” You reassured

Medic pouted, throwing his own arms around you a moment later. “I know, dove. I just…” he sighed

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creature-wizard · 7 months

Text

Hypnosis is unreliable for memory recovery, and this is one way we know.

Some of you out there might be considering hypnosis to try and recover memories, whether from early childhood or a past life. You may have already heard criticism of it, but may have also heard that the critics are just trying to shut down important discussions. You may not know what to believe because when it comes to a lot of these memories, there's no real way to either verify or falsify them. After all, if someone goes under hypnosis and seems to remember an older sibling pushing them off a swing when they were five, but nobody else seems to remember this, who's to say who's right, who's misremembering, and who's just trying to protect a mean older sibling? And most past lives people report aren't exactly easy to check.

However, there is one area where attempting to recover memories is pretty popular, and where we can be really, really damn sure that none of these "memories" accurately reflect anything that actually happened.

That area is the starseed movement.

For those who don't already know, the starseed movement is part of New Age, which came out of Theosophy, which came out of the very racist brain of Helena Blavatsky. While not every New Ager believes everything Blavatsky said 100% (if they're even aware of what Blavatsky said), New Age mythology today is fundamentally really super racist.

The ancient astronaut hypothesis, which was created for the purpose of discrediting the engineering capabilities of nonwhite people and for which there is zero evidence to support, is a huge part of it. The mythology also asserts that Earth has been manipulated by a race of reptilian aliens who feed on human flesh, blood, adrenochrome, or even fear, depending on who you ask. The reptilians, supposedly, created religious institutions to control us, control most of the world's wealth, and start unnecessary wars for their own personal gain. For anyone who doesn't recognize the tropes, they're literally just old antisemitic conspiracy theories in a new hat. Most of their material can be traced back to David Icke, who was influenced by Fritz Springmeier, a far right conspiracy theorist. Furthermore, Icke asserted that the antisemitic hoax The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion are basically true, if you make them about reptilian aliens.

There are various races of "good" aliens in this mythology, but the one that's specifically taking the lead in fighting the reptilians are the Pleiadians - beings who (at least initially) were described as tall, pale-skinned, and blond hair. In fact, another term used to describe the Pleiadians is "Nordics," because they were imagined as looking like Nordic people. And why yes, they have been associated with the swastika.

New Agers also believe in places that never even existed, including Atlantis (a fiction created by Plato), Lemuria (a hypothetical continent that was discredited by the discovery of place tectonics), and Mu (supposedly the "real" Atlantis, made up by a guy who claimed that the Maya were descended from Egyptians). Not only is there zero evidence that any of these places existed, but belief in them was often motivated by a desire to attribute the technological and spiritual developments of non-white culture to others. The Emerald Tablets of Thoth the Atlantean, a supposedly ancient book that this guy supposedly received from this mysterious Great White Brotherhood, for example, claims that that ancient Egyptians received their spiritual wisdom from Thoth, a king who fled Atlantis during its destruction.

So in short, just about everything the starseed movement believes in is total bullshit that can easily be traced back to some extremely racist propaganda or hoax. True believers claim that there's an ancient global conspiracy hiding the truth from all of us, but whether or not they realize it, they are invoking The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, that old Russian hoax.

Meanwhile, people in the starseed movement regularly undergo hypnosis to try and recover memories of their past lives. Here are some selections posted by members of r/starseeds:

"The planet had a wooden area with plants and very interesting buildings and one area that looked more desert , with construction similar to pyramids , ecc that were used as transmitters. We had a connection to Egypt . I knew we had to move planet because of a galactic war . Our enemies were reptilians , grays and these mantis beings … they were the ones that killed us in a crash while we were flying over a planet with super red sand and rocks. I’ve had this memory of the crash ever since I was a child but I thought I was imaging it. I am not into scifi movies , aliens or anything ."

"My home planet Artuvia was destroyed by negative forces (reptilian) in the orion galactic war, i left through a portal of light with other beings and came to Earth, i remember the portal, and everything around me falling apart and crumbling, the war was massive and many died, my planet was peaceful and had never known war, so when the war came most of us Mintakans perished, i believe the pleiadians tried to help us, but the planet fell, it was so beautiful there, paradise, i loved it so much it is my only incarnation outside of earth, i spent over 5000 lifetimes there before i came to lemuria, atlantis and agartha."

"Have you researched the planet Artuvia, we were destroyed in galactic wars some 75,000 years ago. Our souls came to earth in a move to protect the galaxy for we are to help create the next generations of starseeds here. From the Orion star system, powered by the star Mintaka. My memories have been resurfacing the last several days. Im getting massive amounts of incomprehensible information that I am reformatting and understanding. Its led me here. I am accessing the Akashic Records."

"Hello when i did past life regression i saw myself living in atlantis with other races, arcturians, lyran felines and others. It was futuristic and more advenced then they showing today, we had medbeds, flyng cars and spaceships, in middle was a some sort of crystal and guardians guarding it. At first i was confused what i was seeing at first i thought it was a island but no it was really atlantis, and one who created was dude named king atlant, thats why its called atlantis."

"The Great Galactic-War was the biggest conflict in this Galaxy. The horrible things that the Reptilians have done to my race are unforgivable, brutal and disgusting. They were eating my brothers and sisters alive. Without any remorese, brutally slaughtering everyone that was standing on their way. You could lose anyone after not paying attention. So many beautiful and precious souls that I couldn't protect were lost to their murderous instincts, so many memories, families, were destroyed. I couldn't watch no more suffering from my brothers and sisters. Blood everywhere. They are coming. Blue ground, chaos."

Oh, and by the way, there are other people who aren't even using hypnosis, apparently - some of them report intense dreams, or having "memories" just randomly come to them. So, that's definitely also a thing to keep in mind.

In any case, if somebody starts pushing you to try hypnosis to recover memories of any kind, I recommend putting some distance between yourself and that person ASAP. Because we can see from the starseed movement that this shit just doesn't work the way a lot of people want to think it does, and it can get you into some bad places.

#hypnosis #past lives #past life #past life regression #hypnotic regression #recovered memories #witchcraft #witchblr #paganblr #starseeds #antisemitism #racism #new age #new age movement #new agers #pseudoscience #pseudopsychology #psychology #false memories

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