#Mechanic (Tractor) course

[bits-and-babs]

I imagine Mando is a virgin, do to his cult/religion.

What if fem/afab reader is Mando's partner on something and Din finds himself staring at their ass, their face, anything.

Reader notices and decides to lead Din through his first time?

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐀𝐑 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

» PAIRING : The Mandalorian x F!Reader

» CONTENTS : exhibitionism, masturbation, p in v sex, unprotected sex (I can hear you all screaming from here, I KNOW), cute, shy Mando. 18+ you N A S T I E S.

» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here

It’s so fucking quiet on the Razor Crest.

The Mandalorian had been suspiciously silent for the majority of your trip to Theed— made even worse by the knowledge that it was such a long journey. He had spent most of his time in the cockpit of the ship, pretending to be preoccupied with the coordinates that he hadn’t changed since setting off.

You didn’t think anything of it at first. The long drags of The Mandalorian's eyes that you could feel pull across your form, settling on your ass like a tractor beam had them glued to you. Of course, you’d just explained it away with exhaustion. For a moment, you even considered that you’d been afflicted with Hyper-Rapture, imagining things that weren’t there, inventing the gaze you felt skirting over your form.

No, you don’t think anything of it at all. Not until you walk into the cockpit of the Razor Crest one evening to find The Mandalorian thrusting into his palm and quietly whimpering out your name.

Mando hadn’t seen you, spilling into his palm and wheezing as though he’d been shot by a blaster in the side. His cum had run down the knuckles of his fingers, the two-tone gloves he consistently wore hanging off the controls.

Stars, you couldn’t shake the image from your minds-eye, nor could you ignore the echo of your whimpered name when you close your eyes at night.

It’s late. Mando has managed to settle the rambunctious Child into his cot, gently laying him amongst the blankets and closing the lid. It hisses softly, the mechanics locking with a quiet ‘click’.

You can hear his boots clang across the durasteel flooring, each footstep pronounced. Heat swallows your face as you stare at the Aurebesh lettering in your book, the lines all blurring into one when you feel him approach you.

Your name rings in your ears.

“He’s asleep,” Mando speaks softly, his husky tone soothing in its quiet volume. Looking up at him through your lashes, you carefully close the book you had pretended to preoccupy yourself with. Mando’s visor stares down at you blankly, an immovable object that makes your hands shake when you reach for him.

“… That’s perfect,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly when your palms touch the flight suit beneath the lip of his breastplate. You can feel his body flinch, his hip bones soft beneath the canvas.

“H-Hey,” he says cautiously, shocked by the sudden contact. You rub gentle circles with your thumb, chewing on the inside of your cheek in an attempt to ease your thumping heart.

“I heard you,” you break it to him gently, watching his body stiffen at your admission, “Why did you hide it from me?”

Mando doesn’t respond, your touch having stolen the breath from his lungs. He shudders, his cock hard already beneath the fabric of his suit. You see it twitch, responsive to your light touch.

You smile to yourself, careful as you unclip his utility belt.

“I can give you what you want?”

You insist upon fucking him in the pilot seat. Mando implores you to allow him to keep his armour on. Of course, you concede. This is outside of his comfort zone; he would want to cling to what makes him comfortable.

Straddling his lap, you feel the sting of cold from his tassets bite into the naked flesh of your thighs. The head of his cock rests against your clit, and your muscles buzz with a mixture of arousal and anticipation. You’re drunk on it, high on it.

“I haven’t-“ Mando speaks, his voice catching in his throat when you dip his cock through your soaking folds. It’s like he short circuits, choking on a thick syllable.

“Mhm?” You hum softly. You’ve taken control, your experience making it easier for Mando to relax into you. He leans forward, pressing the cold Beskar of his helmet against your collarbone.

“I haven’t… Done this,” he admits to you, his tone reserved- shy. Mando’s breath hitches in his chest when you settle the head of his cock against your entrance. He sinks inside you ever so slightly, a groan rattling his lungs at the promise of tight, wet heat.

“I know,” you whisper softly, easing down onto his length as you soothe him. Mando’s back arches against the leather of the pilot seat, a choked moan of your name escaping him— not unlike the ones you heard when you caught him fucking his hand.

You don’t move, your walls fluttering around the stretch of him in your cunt. Mando is choking back curses, his hands gripping the curve of your ass and burying his fingertips into the soft flesh there.

“Oh, fu-ughh- so tight-'' he rambles, pitchy in tone as you bury him to the hilt. He’s touching the deepest parts of you, so thick and long that you’re sure you can feel him settle amongst your lungs.

It’s immediately apparent that Mando won’t last long. His thighs are trembling, cock twitching inside you despite your lack of movement. You don’t mind. This isn’t about you.

“Does it feel good?” You check in with him, smoothing your palms down the reflective surface of his breastplate. Your body heat is so high that the chilled metal clouds with condensation the moment your skin rests against it.

“So fucking tight- Maker-“ he gasps in response to you squeezing around him. “I’m-I’m gonna cum-“

Delicately, you lean your head down to press a kiss to the slither of skin exposed between the neckline of his flight suit and his helmet. You follow it up with a long, slow drag of your tongue.

Mando cums with a haggard groan, his whole body shuddering with the intensity of it. His head drops back against the headrest of the seat, chest heaving as he sucks in laboured breaths. Your flesh aches slightly from the tight grip he holds.

“S-Stars-“

It makes you smile, because you’re sure he sees them dancing behind his eyelids.

END

[bellewintersroe]

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

[batwynn]

I typically have a pretty healthy respect for farmers and their work, especially having lived on and worked on many different farms growing up. I've woken up at 4am to milk cows, feed chickens, chop wood. I've pulled more weeds than you can imagine, tilled rows, and run out in hailstorms to protect crops. But I can't seem to dredge up a drop of respect for the farms around where I live these days. Because these guys don't actually do anything, and yet have a serious attitude about how much of better a person they are because they 'work hard' and 'kids these days don't wanna work' yadda yadda. They've convinced themselves and everyone around them that they work like people used to work on farms. In the field, backs bent, heavy lifting, etc. Except, you know, they don't. Everything is mechanized, and more than half of the year is spent doing nothing at all while the potatoes grow/over the winter. Every step of the planting, watering, spraying, harvesting, and storing process is run by a machine. The tractors don't even need them to direct them for most of the process. I've watched these guys fart around on their phones and pick their noses for 6 hours as the tractor goes back and forth, only waking up enough to turn the thing at the end of the row. For what isn't mechanized, (kale) they hire migrant workers to do the actual work. Meanwhile, these guys drive around in their un-used-for-anything-but-driving pickup trucks, yelling about migrant (non-white) workers and people asking for 'handouts'. Ironic, of course, because every single farm up here gets massive 'handout' from the government for multiple claims of u w u growing pwoblems. These same people will pick apart every single thing that you do 'wrong' because you don't do it the way they do it. (Like have a giant bulldozer to clear their driveway vs a small snow blower) If that wasn't enough, these aren't the neighbors that I grew up with. These same people have the ability to help others, and won't. They pull up to you after 5 months of grueling shoveling and clearing the driveway of snow and say, "Oh we could have done that for you for $40." And then never offer to do it next year. They'll stand outside and crack jokes about how our house is going to burn down because of how we set up the pellet stove, but not offer advice. They'll happily run their generators and settle in during the bomb cyclone that turned off the power for over a week at -60º and not even question if they should check on anyone living around them. They're greedy, selfish, lazy, cruel people and they say the kids are the problem?

[p6to]

What the fuck is going on?

I was in the process of typing out several essays worth of thoughts in the tags of @tsarinablogs's lestappen 2024 manifesto, because what else is new. Since I am uncannily similar to Max in all aspects of his public persona (except his driving abilities and his apparent need to come out as bisexual in every third interview), including the 'tism allegations and the certified "parent has a very weird sense of seeing their child as their own person" experience, in this essay I will be yapping about Screwderia Ferrari, shady business and of course: Charles Leclerc.

Charles has given his life and a large part of his career in f1 to Ferrari, leading to six wins, including his own home race Monaco and Ferrari's home race Monza, but also ten gazillion strategy fuck ups and now a (likely) second failed championship battle.

How much is too much for a person to handle?

Ferrari has not won a championship since Kimi Räikkönen in 2007. That much was known when Charles went through the ranks in the Ferrari Driver Academy, so he knew they were not suddenly going to dominate the way Red Bull did the last few years and Mercedes before them. He still had faith in them, made promises about his achievements to his dying father when he must have known that they might be impossible to ever reach.

His devotion and his talent have made him into an (almost) religious figure to the tifosi. Charles Leclerc is Ferrari, and Ferrari is Charles Leclerc.

Or is it?

Time and time again, we have witnessed Charles getting fucked over in favour of his teammate (see "it looks like they're going to sacrifice Leclerc" - George, or the entirety of the SF-23, maybe even today). While a team principal and a good number of other employees were fired in 2022 because things were going horrible and Charles insisted on it, and things were looking better when competent personnel and even Lewis Hamilton were signed by Fred Vasseur, it seems like the actual problem is still there.

Based on what we saw with the Barcelona upgrades and Carlos' interviews, we may have to expect the car to be developed to suit Carlos' understeer-y preference once again, which is wild considering that he is a driver who is leaving at the end of the year, has been outperformed by Charles pretty consistently over the time they were teammates, and has shown very clearly (alone this season!) that he is (in the words of a friend) not driving for Ferrari but for Carlos.

How can it be that Charles has mechanical and technical problems every second race weekend, while his teammate does not, and not only does nobody from the team leadership say anything about it but they also let Carlos downplay Charles' very severe brake issues in Bahrain?

Silverstone has marked the third race this season where Charles did not score points due to either inherent issues of the car (tire warm up in qualifying), mechanical issues (engine), damage (front wing in Austria) AND very questionable strategy calls. Three races of the twelve that have passed is 25%, a figure that is much too high for any top team, let alone Ferrari who were very close to catching up to Red Bull in the WCC just four races ago.

Of course, problems in car development and maybe even a higher lack of reliability in mechanical parts can happen to any team. However, we will now come to the area where I see the biggest problem.

This entire triple header, Fred Vasseur has been giving unacceptable statements about BOTH of his drivers. In Barcelona, he downplayed the issue between Charles and Carlos at the start, positioning himself directly against the driver he should be supporting since he was objectively (data-supported) correct. In Austria, Sky Sports had to make him watch the moment Charles sustained the damage to his front wing, because he could not be bothered to watch it during the actual race.

And now in Silverstone, he blamed both Carlos and Charles for not performing miracles with this shitshow of a tractor during qualifying, let his drivers be fed different information regarding the incoming rain leading to one of them making the wrong tire choice, ruining his race, and then had the audacity to lie about that and Charles position during this incident, making it look like he was still behind Lance when he had actually already overtaken him and was now behind Carlos after starting four places behind him, EVEN THOUGH there were radio transcripts and of course the fucking broadcast that showed the truth.

Us Chirlies have to preface our posts about conspiracy theories with statements about tinfoil hats and "for legal reasons this is a joke", but I will not do this here.

I fully believe that there is shady business going on at Ferrari, including but not limited to potential blackmailing, software sabotage and bribery. I will not pin these onto specific people/groups, because there are too many options. I also think that there is shady business going on at every team, but not to this extent.

The way things are going, with Charles already being on an actually not so subtle PR warpath, I expect some form of news in the next three weeks, including either announcements about people being fired or a Charles-to-Red Bull announcement, although Charles to Mercedes would not surprise me either.

Merc fans joined in on criticising Fred yesterday, and hardcore Max fans are saying Charles should leave Ferrari and join Max at Red Bull. This issue has breached containment, as it should.

Either things are changing at Ferrari or Charles will be exchanging Ferrari for a different team. There is no other solution.

(You have made it to the bottom of this yap-fest. Congratulations! I wish you a very nice day/week/month/year/life without Ferrari-like fuck ups and thank you for reading my stuff :) )

[russellius]

THE TIMES: The Formula One driver and his father, Steve, on failed driving tests and sleeping in horseboxes

George

My earliest memories are of living in a mobile home while my parents built a house in a field in the middle of nowhere, near Wisbech in Cambridgeshire. I rode a pedal tractor around the site, hurtling through corners and reversing with a trailer.

At 25 I am the youngest of three. Cara is 37 and works as my personal assistant. Benjy is 36 and caught the karting bug when he was just 11. He was a brilliant driver, becoming a national and world karting champion. Unfortunately, even starting at such a young age, it was already too late for him to have a professional career. I took up karting when I was six and he helped me a lot. Benjy was like a mentor. He eventually gave up racing at university, so Dad’s focus was on me.

I didn’t see much of Dad during the week. He got up early and came home late running a business selling seeds and pulses. As a kid you miss having your father around, but it’s only now that I appreciate he was doing it so I could race at the weekend. Dad didn’t come from a lot and did well to create a successful business. We weren’t poor but we weren’t wealthy like the families of some F1 racing drivers now.

After long hours at work Dad drove us in a camper van to racetracks around the country. It was very much a family affair. Dad was the mechanic, Mum did the cooking and collected data on my driving. When I drove well, there were celebrations and the mood was great but because everyone was so emotionally and financially invested, when I suffered a poor weekend the mood was bad.

Dad has always been hard on the ones he loves. As a young kid, that was difficult to deal with. The pressure didn’t just filter down to me, it affected the whole family. I felt the weight of failure and expectation. If I made a silly mistake and spun off the track, I can now understand why Dad might have thought, “What the hell am I doing this for?” He had to work his arse off to support my racing, so if I didn’t put in enough effort, it must have been hard.

I now live in the world of F1, where tens of millions of pounds are spoken about like peanuts. Even in Formula Two or Three, every driver has to find huge amounts of money to get on the grid — it’s just crazy. When I was 16 and moving up through the ranks, I realised Dad didn’t have that sort of capital. I thought, “Oh shit, if I can’t find that sort of sponsorship or get picked by a team, my F1 dream is gone.”

Winning the F2 championship in 2018 was a big moment but I’ll never forget the day I signed for Williams F1 in September 2018. I was racing in F2 in Sochi, Russia, when Claire Williams, the deputy team principal at the time, called me in and offered a deal. Mum and Dad were the first people I told and they both cried. I told them to save their tears for when I won a race.

I joined Mercedes for the 2022 season, alongside Lewis Hamilton. It was a huge opportunity for me to learn and grow in F1, as well as show what I’m capable of. It was not an easy season for Mercedes but I feel very fortunate to be in this position, plus Lewis is such an incredible bloke on and off the track. He is so experienced, whereas I’m a 25-year-old who is just totally focused on trying to be the best F1 driver I can be. I’m pretty inspired by what he has achieved.

Dad is a strong character but he has become more emotional since his children have left home. He’s also friendlier now and doesn’t mind making a fool of himself from time to time. My only regret is that F1 doesn’t leave much free space to see each other but we do speak on the phone all the time.

Of course he still watches the pennies and will only fly economy — he won’t let me pay for their flights either. I know my parents can afford to fly business but it’s the principle for them. I want to make sure I reach a position with my racing where I can afford to give them the best in their retirement. They totally deserve it.

Steve

The F1 guys are OK on the racetrack but they are never as good as their dads on normal roads. George is always telling me to slow down as we approach a junction, though his mum thinks it’s fantastic when he takes her out and drives quickly.

There was just one occasion when George didn’t put the full effort in and it caused quite a commotion. He failed his first driving test at 17 because he thought that being a great driver on the track was good enough. He came home fuming that the examiner was wrong. We had to go back to the test centre in King’s Lynn so George could confront him. That didn’t go down well.

George was a cheeky little boy, a bit of a comedian. I worked a lot but it’s strange that I can only remember the racing side of his life, not watching him grow up at home. We enjoyed a nice life but had to work hard for it. I came from a family of farm workers with very little money and wanted to get away from agriculture and better myself but I ended up owning a wholesale seed business.

My wife, Alison, and I knew George was going to be a racing driver at the age of two. He was born on the track, coming to races to watch his brother and help out in the garage. He had a toy tractor that he rode around the pit lane and collected stickers from each race to stick on his “George Russell Racing” tractor.

As George progressed through the racing ranks it became more and more expensive. We invested in a motorhome to travel to races — before that I would sometimes sleep in a freezing horsebox. There were sacrifices. Alison and I didn’t go on our first holiday together until two years ago, on a trip to Lanzarote. By then we had been together for 38 years. People think that now George is in F1 we hang out with Lewis Hamilton and Toto Wolff, the Mercedes principal, every weekend in the sunshine, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Now Alison and I rarely go to races because we don’t want to interfere.

It was hard letting George fly the nest because we had been a close family, always doing our racing together. He is methodical and organised but his feet are firmly on the ground. There are plenty of people in the family to put him straight if needed.

There’s no magic wand to become an F1 driver — it takes hard work and dedication. It was only when I stood on the track with George before his first grand prix that I looked up at the enormous crowd and thought, “Oh my God, we’ve actually got here.”

[little-mouse-gardens]

random au thoughts i have while playing video games part 1.

Some Stardew Valley Rise au future Donatello and Farmer reader thoughts I had while playing Stardew Valley.

gonna make a part to of some fluff headcanons soon!

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

imagining future Donatello working as a mechanic in town while working part-time at the local library and museum. he enjoys his work, the peace Pelican Town brings him. loving the joy he finds in his hobbies and his work there.

he has won the fall fair competition for best invention at least ten times in a row (and he is incredibly smug about it)

farmer reader has recently gotten settled into their farm. happily tending to their crops and the plants they keep in the greenhouse they repaired. happily giving each of the cows, goats, chickens and ducks their morning/afternoon cuddles after breakfast.

they come into town to get ingredients to make some nice blueberry muffins for lunch or to go to the local library for some good books to read by the fire at the end of a long day with their trusty fluffy companion by their side.

eventually, right after they accidentally break their tractor, they decide to pay a visit to the local mechanic. Donatello.

when they visit Donnie is in the middle of working on a more advanced telescope to go stargazing with.

when he looks up he spots reader looking at the inventions displayed around his shop. watching the way their eyes sparkle as they gaze at the details he's put into his work or how they murmur to themselves about how incredible the craftsmanship is.

he doesn't know why, nor does he admit it at first, but he can't help but feel this fluttering in his heart. this warmth blooming within his chest he can't quite place.

he brushes it off for now and just calls reader over to take a look at the part that got broken off their tractor.

reader greets him with a warm friendly smile (even more friendly than the ones the people of Pelican town would give oh my god-) as they sit the part on the counter. shyly rubbing the back of their neck as they explain the situation.

the whole time he is fixing the part, reader is watching and listening to everything he has to say. watching the way his hands skillfully shaped the metal and how he rambled happily about the condition the part was despite the damage.

it makes reader smile. a softer smile. one of admiration.

even when the part is finished, reader sticks around for a little while longer. asking If he'd like any help moving some things around or asking questions about all the inventions he's made.

normally this would annoy him. After all, he has to work. he has to make sure things get done properly. yet this time...he isn't. In fact, he welcomes it.

eventually reader has to leave, but that doesn't stop them from visiting him each day.

every time they always bring him things fresh from their farm. a basket of fresh veggies from their garden, a knitted scarf they made themselves and dyed purple, homemade jams & meals for him etc.

Donnie is flustered at first but of course, returns the favor. giving readers farm new sprinklers that help with watering and keeping their plants healthy, and a belt that has multiple pockets that can keep their tools organized-heck he even makes a device that reader can use to call him to get them out of the mine.

with each gift. with each visit. each conversation-that fluttering only grows stronger within his heart.

until one night it hits him.

he's in love.

it all makes sense to him now. how they both would shy from each other's gaze when their hands brushed together. how their faces would flush when Donnie would carry Reader out of the mines to Harvey in town, the way they would glance at each other softly while they sat on readers front porch watching the sunset-

yep. yep. yep-hes in love.

and his brain is absolutely spinning at the idea of being able to...confess his feelings to reader.

the next morning, or rather around lunchtime-reader finds a lovely written letter from Donnie. asking them to come meet him in the mountains near the train station at around seven or eight.

reader of course, can't help but feel their own heart racing when they finish reading and it. managing to finish all their work by the time they make their way over to the designated meeting spot.

He's waiting there of course. this soft but nervous smile on his face. dressed in his best yet comfortable clothes wearing the scarf they gave him and standing next to the telescope he'd been working on since the day he met them.

most of the night is spent gazing at the stars. rambling on about things until they're both smiling brightly.

and when everything goes quiet. they just look at each other beneath the moonlight. this softness in the air…before Donnie takes a deep breath and just says what's on his mind.

holding reader's face in his hands as he confesses how they make his heart soar with their lovely smile. how their laugh makes his cheeks burn and the warmth of their lovely personality brings him a joy he hadn't felt in years he considers them to be his starlight. his other half, his friend, and his inspiration all at the same time.

reader is just floored-yet their heart is soaring at his words.

donatello is, of course, nervous at first-did he mess it up? was it too much? did he over plan this? was it cheesy? gosh he messed up-

it isn't until he sees this soft yet cheerful smile on their face and how their hands squeeze that he relaxes.

reader just slowly tips their sun hat up, gently tracing hearts on his hands as a quick heads up to him before they lean in for a soft kiss. murmuring softly, "If I'm your starlight, then you must be my moon..right?"

he had never wrapped his arms around reader so fast. He is so so happy. They are both laughing. peppering kisses across each other's faces. trying not to cry as they look into each other's eyes.

the telescope he put so much care and work into reflecting both farmer and inventor happily cuddled up side by side. moonlight and starlight shining down upon them.

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Growing

Just a little piece of gen domestichesters fluff about Sam taking up gardening and Dean adopting another dog. Set in season 15 during that unknown period of time between episodes 19 & 20, or maybe it's canon divergent and episode 20 never happened (whichever makes you happiest).

No pairing, no ship, just fluff.

Words: 2746

Read it on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So I was looking into the history of the power plant.”

“Of course you were.” Dean deadpanned.

“And, turns out that it was never actually abandoned like we’d thought because it was never actually in use as a real power plant. As far as I can tell, it was built to cover up the mechanical equipment that runs the bunker and isn’t even hooked into the local grid.”

“Fascinating.” Dean said, with sarcasm so dry Sam completely missed it.

“That’s what I thought. So I came up to check it out, you know, see how the systems were set up, just in case something ever goes wrong… again. But what I found was,” Sam opened the double doors that creaked loudly in the cavernous space that they step into.

It was like a cathedral, vast and empty with a vaulted ceiling thirty feet high. It was saved from being gloomy, all that grey stone and dark ironwork rafters, by two of the walls which were striped with four sets of floor to ceiling windows and there were large skylights above. Most surprising to Dean was the fact that they were all, miraculously, unbroken. The rest of the space was mostly empty, with just a few bulky pieces of equipment that looked like they were part of the bunker’s various mechanical systems. That looked like all that had been there, at least that was all before Sam had gotten to the space. Now, there were two rows of what looked to Dean like black, plastic bathtubs standing near the south side of the room. And there were long fluorescent tube light fixtures suspended above them.

“That doesn’t look like mechanical equipment.”

Sam laughed. “It’s not. But the space was completely empty when I found it. But it had electricity and a sprinkler system and I think it’s actually heated. Or, at least, there’s ductwork that seems to come up from below.”

They had been wandering closer to the tubs as Sam talked. As they got up to them, Dean could see that they were each filled with rich, dark soil. There was also a network of PVC pipes that ran along over the top of the tubs, with red, shut off valves and nozzles every so often.

Dean sneezed. It had come up so suddenly he hadn’t even had time to cover his mouth, just turned to the side. The noise echoing back to him from every corner.

“I’ve swept up, but it’s still pretty dusty, I guess.”

Dean sniffled and asked, “Did you do all this?”

“Yeah. I’ve been working on it for the last couple months. The tubs are 150 gallon stock tanks that I got from the Tractor Supply over in Smith Center. But I scrounged most of the rest of the supplies. I set up the lights because, even with all the windows, I just don’t know if the plants will get enough sunlight. And I flushed the irrigation system throughly and tested it for lead, since, you know the building was built back in the 30’s. But everything is clear and yeah.” Sam looked at Dean. “What do you think?”

“You gonna be growing pot in here or something?”

Sam laughed again and shook his head. “I was thinking more, vegetables and herbs.”

“Oh.”

“Try not to sound so disappointed.”

“Well, I’m not going to lie, I’d be more excited about pot. But this is impressive, Sammy.” “You think?”

“Yeah. You put a lot of work into this. Why didn’t you ask for help?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I just started working on it and then it was just… something to do. Plus I didn’t want you trying to claim it and fill it up with cars or something.”

Dean looked into the tubs. “You plant anything yet?”

“No, I actually need to go pick up the plants and thought you might want to ride over with me? We can get lunch at Pete’s and then swing by the nursery?”

“Yeah, okay. Barbecue sounds great.”

They were almost out the door when Dean sneezed again. “Damn. I think you need to sweep again.”

Down in the garage, they both got into the Impala, doors squeaking and banging shut in unison. Dean had the key in the ignition and was just about to start her up when he stopped and looked at Sam.

“How many plants are you planning on getting?”

Sam narrowed his eyes, Dean could practically see him going through his mental list. They both turned and looked in the backseat at the same time.

“Uh…” Sam started.

“Why don’t we take the truck instead?”

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

So they took the old pick-up truck. It was a 1946 Chevrolet 3100 in Morat Green. Sam thought the name sounded made up, but he knew better than to argue about classic vehicles with his brother.

It was an easy fifteen minute drive from Lebanon to Smith Center. By the time they got to Pete’s and parked, Sam had not only run through his list of plants he wanted to get, but had gone on a bit too long (in Dean’s opinion) about the merits of various varieties of tomato and lettuce. He’d also mentioned several herbs that Dean was about ninety percent certain weren’t used for cooking.

“Some of them are medicinal but the other have more…” Sam lowered his voice as the stepped into the restaurant, “esoteric uses.”

Dean gave him a look.

“We’ve depleted most of our supply of components. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there aren’t many suppliers of those things that are still willing to sell to us. So it would be a lot easier if I could just grow what we needed.”

“Okay, settle down. This is your project, you can get whatever plants you want.”

They changed the topic of conversation as they sat down, deciding without needing to discuss it, that they’d rather debate who would win in a fight between themselves and various comic book superheroes and villains. The lapsed mostly into silence when their food arrived, with only the occasional obscene groan from Dean around a mouthful of double bacon cheeseburger.

“Dude.”

“What? It’s good.” Dean asked still chewing.

“So is my salad, but you don’t hear me moaning like Meg Ryan.” “Yeah, ‘cause no one gets orgasmic over a salad, Sam.”

“Just, try not to get the cops called on us. And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Fine, Mom.”

Shaking his head, Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t quite stop the corners of his mouth from pulling up into a smile as they finished off their lunch.

It was a short drive across town to the greenhouse. To be fair, everything in Smith Center was a short drive, it wasn’t a big town. When they pulled into the parking lot there was a banner string up on one side of the entrance to the greenhouse. Several families with kids were gathered by it.

“Adopt-a-Pet?”

“Go, check it out, play with some puppies or something. I’ll just be a few minutes anyway.” Sam said as he wandered inside.

Dean made his way over and was having just as much fun watching the kids coo and squeal and beg their parents for a puppy or a kitten as he was looking at the baby animals.

There were older animals too, a bunch of cats and a few dogs. One of the dogs was laying down in its crate, and while its ears perked up at every loud sound, it wasn’t watching the chaos around it as much as the other dogs. Dean crouched down and peered at it through the bars of the crate. It was black and white with longish fur.

“Interested in adopting a pet?” a woman asked him when she was done handing a clipboard of paperwork to one of the families.

“I’ve already got a dog. I just thought I look while my brother’s getting stuff for his garden.”

“Well, each animal has a tag on their crate with information like breed, sex, age, and if they’re good with kids or other animals.”

Dean looked and saw the tag on the crate in front of him. “Otis, huh?”

The dog’s head perked up immediately.

“Guess that’s you.” Dean said. He read the tag and looked at the dog and then read the tag again.

It had taken Sam a lot longer than he’d anticipated in the greenhouse because they didn’t have a couple of the varieties that he’d really wanted, so he had to decide on what to get instead. But once he checked out, he had several packets of seeds tucked into his pocket and two long flats of young plants, and was feeling pretty good about his choices. Dean was nowhere to be seen when he carried the first group of plants out and slid them into the back of the truck, but when he came out with the rest of them, he could see Dean’s head through the back window of the truck. Plants safely stowed, he closed the tailgate and walked around to the passenger door.

A loud bark when he opened the door made him jump. Sitting on the bench seat next to his brother was a border collie.

“Dean?”

“Sam.”

“There’s a dog in the truck.”

“You always were observant.”

“Dean, why is there a dog in the truck?”

“His name is Otis. Otis, say hello to Sam.”

Otis chuffed.

“Okay.” Sam looked at the dog and then at his brother. “Did, did you adopt a dog?”

Dean just smiled at him and ruffled the fur on Otis’ head as he started the truck up. “Yes I did. Come on, let’s get him home and introduce him to Miracle.”

There was much barking and vigorous wagging of tails and lots of butt sniffing. After a few minutes, Dean declared the introduction a success and went to help Sam carry the plants up to the power plant.

“I can’t believe you got another dog.”

“Sam, he’s blind and had been at the shelter for over a year. I couldn’t leave him there. Plus, look how happy Miracle is. Now he won’t be completely alone when we have to go out. He’s got a buddy.”

“Yeah, no, I get that, I–I do. But, I just… I just think this is the sort of thing that we should have talked about first.”

“Hey, I didn’t hear you asking me about turn the upstairs into a conservatory, but I’m okay with it. I think it’s great that you’ve got a new hobby.” He sat the flat of seedlings down next to the planters and sneezed. “Shit. Man, are there cats up here or something?”

Sam looked around and shrugged.

Dean sneezed again.

“There is definitely something up here that’s not agreeing with you. Go on downstairs, I’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Dean sniffled. “I’m gonna go take the dogs for a walk before dinner. Don’t stay up here too late, There’s still, like, half a lasagna in the fridge and I think there’s even some salad left over from last night.”

He sneezed again before he got to the door.

Sam pulled the seed packets out of his pocket and flipped through them. There was yarrow, angelica, burdock, belladonna, chamomile, and catnip. He looked back at the door before glancing over to where there was a large cardboard box tucked between two pieces of equipment that Sam was about 80% certain were part of the air handling system. After a moment he started spreading the plants and seed packets around in the various tubs of dirt, plotting out what to grow where.

The next few weeks passed quickly. Miracle adopted Otis faster than Dean had, and it was rare to ever see one without the other. Sam took them out running in the mornings and Dean took them for rides into town or out to some field or another where they went on long meandering walks in the afternoons while Sam tended to his growing garden. He took careful notes and photos, and adjusted the timing of the lights and the sprinkler system. Dean, who still sneezed at least once every time he went up there, kept his visits short and mostly left Sam to his gardening. Meal times were when he was most likely to come up, looking to make sure that his brother was eating.

“Hey, Sammy. Lunchtime, come and get it! Wow! It’s looking lush up here. Got anything edible yet?”

“Uh yeah, there’s some lettuce over there but I just want to get this set… Shit!” He swore as the sprayer nozzle he’s been adjusting snapped off in his hand. Water started to gush out of the pipe even as he clamped his hands down tight over the opening. “Ah! Get the, uh, the thing... turn it off!”

Dean rushed over and followed Sam’s gaze to a red shut off valve a little ways down the line. “Yep! Hang on. Got it.” He cranked the valve down tight and the water pressure died.

Sam shook his hands, flinging drops of water into the planter. “Thanks.”

A tiny, high pitched, squeaky sort of noise came from between the tub where Sam was working and the one behind it.

“What…” Dean began as he leaned over to look between the tubs.

“Well, no point in trying to fix this on an empty stomach. Let’s go eat!” Sam said loudly as he wiped his hands on his jeans and then all but herded Dean towards the door.

“Wait, what was that?”

“It was just the pipes, you know how pipes are. What’s for lunch?”

“Stop pushing me!”

Sam stopped but stayed between Dean and his garden. There was another squeak.

“Sam?” Dean said, glaring at his brother. Before either of them could say anything else Dean’s attention was drawn to a tiny little ball of grey and black striped fluff that toddled out from around the tub that Sam had been working on.

“I knew it.”

Another tiny mewl came from the other end of the garden and Sam’s eyes went wide.

“Dude, how many kittens are in here?”

Sam deflated with a sigh, “Five.”

“Five?!”

“And the mom cat.”

“Were you seriously just going to keep pretending like you didn’t know what was making me sneeze?”

“No! No. I was just waiting until the kittens were old enough to find them homes.”

“But why not just tell me?”

“I didn’t want it to be a big deal, I figured you’re not up here much anyway and it’s a quiet, safe place for them and, well, they’re cute.”

“But I still don’t get why you were lying to me.”

“I didn’t really lie… yeah, okay, I lied. I’m sorry. I guess I was afraid that you’d want them gone.”

Dean looked offended. “I’m not a monster, Sam.”

“I know! But I also know how much you hate cats, so…”

“I don’t hate cats.”

“Yes, you do. You say it all the time.”

“I don’t actually mean it.”

Sam just looked at him, exasperated and at a loss. A squeaky mewl, louder and more demanding than before, sounded from their feet. The first kitten had reached Sam’s foot and was starting to climb up his pants leg.

Dean leaned down and carefully unhooked it’s claws from Sam’s jeans before standing up, holding it gently in his hands.

He looked at it.

It looked at him.

It cried loudly.

“Have you named them?”

“Pfft, no.”

“Cool, so I can name them.”

Sam sighed and looked closer at the kitten. “That one’s Doc.”

Dean scrunched up his nose and looked at him. “Like the dwarf?”

“No. It’s short for Burdock. It’s a plant.” He looked over to where the other kitten was sitting, still next to the tubs. “That one is Cam, short for Chamomile. And the others are Yarrow, Catnip or Nip, and Belladonna, like the plant, not the pornstar.” He added quickly at the hopeful arching of Dean’s eyebrow. “The mom is Angelica.”

“Uh huh. You big softy.” Dean smiled at him.

“Shut up.”

Dean chuckled as he handed the kitten, who had started to squirm, over to Sam. “They can stay, just, uh, up here, okay? Now, I’m going to go wash my hands and eat. Come on.”

Sam placed a quick kiss on Doc’s head before setting him gently down on the ground and following after his brother.

[invisibleraven]

is there anything i can do to help?

sweet tarts

Carrie was not having a good day.

She had slept in, leaving her less time to get ready, so she didn't feel as put together as she would like, but she also had a test first thing that morning and couldn't afford to be late. Then her car gave her trouble, meaning she had to park near the back of the lot, and run to class.

From then on it was just little things, like having to eat the school lunch because she had forgotten hers at home, banging her elbow on one of the sets in drama class, and of course it was a freshly painted one. By the end of the day all she wanted to do was bury herself in her blankets and escape from the world.

But of course, when she got to her car, it wouldn't start.

No matter how many times she turned the key or stepped on the pedals-nothing. She screamed, thrashing about as she vented her frustration.

Then-a knock on her window, and she turned to see the very concerned face of Reggie Peters. She knew him by association of course, his band and hers often performed at the same venues, and he had always been very sweet, but they never spent a lot of time together.

"Hi," she said, rolling down her window. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Hey, we've all been there," Reggie replied. "Car giving you trouble?"

"Yeah, it's been acting up lately, and I guess it decided to give up the ghost," Carrie sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Reggie asked.

"No, I can call Triple A, and my dad can come get me," Carrie replied, getting out of the car. Only of course, her phone was dead. "This fucking day, I swear."

"Here," Reggie said, offering his own phone. "You call, I'm going to look under the hood to see if I can figure it out."

"You really don't have to-" Carrie started to say, but then her mouth dried up as Reggie stripped off his ever present flannel, tying it around his waist. Who knew he had arms like that? Carrie certainly didn't and had to shake herself from staring to even lift the phone.

"They'll be here in lik twenty minutes," Carrie said after ending he call.

"Your oil pan is drier than Arizona in the summer," Reggie replied. "No wonder she wouldn't start."

"I...I don't really know much about cars," Carrie admitted. "My dad has a guy for that."

"Well your dad's guy neglected yours," Reggie stated. "It's not hard to fix, but still-he should have been checking your oil regularly."

"I'll make sure to tell him so," Carrie replied.

"Plus your alternator is close to shot-you're essentially driving a death trap," Reggie said.

"Maybe you should be my car guy," Carrie said.

"Oh no," he demurred. "I know my way around thanks to shop class and working on tractors on my grandparents farm, but I'm no mechanic."

"You seem like one to me-far better than the boob my dad hired."

Reggie grinned, highlight a smudge of grease on his face, and Carrie had the strongest urge to wipe it off-or maybe leave it there, because it looked damn good on him.

Soon enough the tow truck was there, and the driver asked if she needed a lift to the garage.

"Nah, I'll get her home," Reggie said, and Carrie smiled at the offer-she really wasn't looking forward to getting in the dirty tow truck, and given her phone was dead she couldn't exactly call an Uber.

Reggie led her to his truck-a beat up looking red beast, but it was clean, and more importantly, worked so Carrie didn't really care. Plus he had a charge cord so her phone could slowly come back to life as he headed towards Malibu.

"Where do you live anyway?" Carrie asked. "Hopefully I'm not too far out of the way."

"Used to live in Silver Lake," Reggie hummed. "But it was a bad situation, so now I'm shacking up with the Molinas in Los Feliz."

"Oh." That...complicated matters. Carrie and Julie had been friends once upon a time, but had a falling out a few years back and hadn't spoken since. She always regretted it, but couldn't find it in herself to be the bigger person and apologize.

"Yeah, Julie's a good friend. Plus her dad lets us use his garage for band practice."

Oh yeah, the lead singer of Reggie's band was Julie's boyfriend-that made sense. Carrie just hummed, letting the LA scenery pass her by.

Reggie pulled up in front of her gate, whistling at her house. "Damn, you live here?"

Carrie shrugged. Yes, it was an impressive house, but it was also empty, lonely, and not really a home. Not like the one it sounded like Reggie had with the Molinas. "Thanks for the ride."

"Anytime," Reggie said with a smile. "And when you get your death trap back, if you want me to look at it, just gimme a call."

"Cuz your my car guy now?"

"I'm your guy for whatever you need," he said sincerely.

Carrie couldn't help but blush at that, biting back a smile as she waved goodbye, squealing a little as she shut the door behind her.

"Hey Carrie," her dad greeted her-a rarity for sure, but there he was, sipping a tea at the kitchen counter. "Good day?"

Carrie beamed, going over to make herself a cup as well. "The best."

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

My go to plan as soon as I get totk:

Get through the tutorial area (probably in the sky then need to get back on to the surface)

Go to hateno. See if the zelink living in the hateno house together fanfics were real.

Check out something specific relating to the art book leak. (Not describing or sharing the leak so don't worry about spoilers from me! :)

Find a horse that at least looks like the one I had in breath of the wild, my beloved baby boy Romeo who can do and hasn't done nothing wrong ever in the entire 6 years of his life (he kicked me off a cliff four separate times):

Go to Gerudo desert because out of all regions it's the one I'm the most interested in seeing the state of post Ganondorf resurrection(?) murderous pissy fit.

I'm going to build me a big fuck off Zonai tractor.

Zelda. I need to know if she's alright, I would like to find out this earlier on but that's probably going to be found out through story and I really do want to take my time with it.

I need to see what the hell is happening with this korok with a backpack:

Speaking of the koroks, uhm... korok forest is gone. I definitely want to check that out. (Sorry this picture so so fucking blurry with how it's zoomed in but the forests gone)

I need to find out if I can glue two Royal claymores together (or an equivalent) to make a big fuck off abomination claymore that does double claymore damage that looks like this:

Go back to eventide. I wonder if they added something there. It seems like something thats a no brainer to do.

Check out what the fuck is going on with the labyrinths I can't find the screenshots now but I remember seeing some of them floating with the sky islands at some point.

If if I can find a sky island resembling at least a little bit of skyloft. I feel it in my bones that Nintendo would pull that type of shit. Or not because this is also Nintendo.

Documenting literally every even hint of a zelink moment in the entire game so I can make several posts gushing over it in the future.

Take lots of screenshots! I actually played breath of the wild on wii u and never on switch so of course I never really had that screenshot or recording capability so I finally can really go all out in this game.

The dragon that is 10000% a fucking Gleeok on the bridge of Hylia I've already determined is going to be the first overworld boss I fight. 🙂 I can't wait to fight it with only five or so hearts 🙂

Amd finally since amiibo support is confirmed and costumes are too - the artbook actually confirmed it but I don't really think that's a spoiler because it's a very obvious mechanic to bring back than just having them be used once only for the paraglider skins you get that was officially confirmed here below so I can't wait to get my ocarina of time and twilight princess gear back that I can wear for the whole game!

Over all I just really want to have fun in this game and really it looks like it's going to deliver. I can't wait to sink hundreds if not thousands of hours into and I REALLY REALLY hope it can at least fix a lot of it's predecessors issues, especially with how it executes it's story. I keep saying it, breath of the wild *had* the potential to be one of the best zelda stories ever but it was done so extremely poorly trying to tell it, majority of it is just ruined. I sincerely hope Nintendo has learned their lesson from that and actually let the Link/you the player actually play throughand experience the games narrative instead of just... having it exposition dumped onto you over and over in flashback cutscenes as stuff that's already happened and can't be changed. I went having this game with very low confidence it was first revealed in 2019, but the more and more I keep seeing it now the higher my optimism gets and I actually genuinely hope this game is really good.

I'm actually wishing the best for it and desperately hope it doesn't disappoint. We've all waited so long, and now we have only a little bit more to go.

[mars-ipan]

nmarrss.. mar s im so hunrgy can you feed me priest au. im Starvinggg Pleasee ^p^ any table scrap i want to pick ur mind for it. ...

hello you two!!! i’m gonna be real i’ve been a bit all over the place lately (pjsk brain has put dangan brain on hold surprisingly enough, and also i’m prepping to go back to college next semester lmao), so i don’t have. too many priest au thoughts. but i HAVE been thinking abt some of the other characters who live in the town of jabberwock, illinois! :]

ok first off. i can’t put hajime anywhere without allowing him his soul bro. even i am not that cruel. so yes souda exists here! he is a mechanic, as to be expected, working out of the shop his dad runs. he and hajime meet when hajime spots him working on like…. let’s say a tractor or smth and goes over to help bc he recognizes the model. they’re buddies, they’re tight! souda is chill, but he’s also like. the epitome of 2000s casual homophobia. most of it comes from his dad, and tbh it wouldn’t be unlikely for souda to be bisexual and not know it (just like canon <3), BUT this au doesn’t focus on him so that’s just a little bonus nuance. For Funsies. as previously mentioned, souda and hajime get along well (souda’s is hajime’s closest male friend, aside from the Father), and they often hang out together. at first souda kind of calls into question some of hajime’s gentler/girlier habits, but overall he does see hajime as Very Masculine so he tries not to give him too much shit, especially since it really seems to bother him. he HAS absolutely called hajime a metrosexual for like. Conditioning His Hair. that sort of thing. but it’s all lighthearted and he does really care abt hajime. that’s his bestie

funnily enough the only other character whose role i’m 100% sure of is gundham’s. he’s one of hajime’s coworkers at the farm supply store! hajime works in more botany-related departments, whereas gundham focuses more on animal husbandry. hajime is on polite terms with gundham, but they’re not too close. in all honestly, hajime’s kind of intimidated by gundham. this guy dresses super scary and actively associates himself with demons and the occult….. it’s a little offputting for him (hajime has never met an alt person before </3 which is such a shame bc he would make a wonderful emo but i digress). overall though, he can tell that gundham cares a lot about his animals and treats them well, so he has respect for him regardless of his reservations. so long as he’s a good person, right? gundham is also dating sonia who comes to visit him at work sometimes (she and chiaki are friends as well, so hajime’s acquainted with her) but that’s all i really have on her right now.

i’ve been trying to think about who would usually run the sunday school. i think chiaki would help, but she wouldn’t be the type to actually teach it. y’know who i think would be fun for that, though? mahiru! this is very not-fleshed-out, but i think she possesses just the right balance of strict and caring to be a good teacher, and i think she’d be good with the woh. i… don’t actually know that much about church structure so i need to research if she’d get a fancy title for being the sunday school teacher, but overall that’s What She Does. of course she’s still best friends with hiyoko, but idk what hiyoko’s deal will be yet so that’ll take some time.

i think jabberwock absolutely has a hanamura diner, owned by a much less creepy teruteru (my au my rules i can fix him if i want) who’s trying to keep the place running to help his mom cover her medical bills. i think it’d be fun if imposter works there (i . may have to give them a name now that i’m thinking about it) but that’s a very young idea, needs time to germinate

that’s all i got for now! a little bit of worldbuilding, a little bit of making jabberwock feel like a real town. yah 👍 oh idea i just got now. what if chiaki works at a local arcade….. the kind that’s old and kinda musty…. yeaahhhh

[tomswifty-fr]

whats the technology level of your lore? and does it vary much by flight?

Hey! It's been three weeks! I have been writing a massive loredump that was way too detailed and going nowhere so this is an attempt to simplify/condense that into a reasonable answer. Feel free to send followups about anything because there is so much I'm leaving out.

Short answer: "Technology level" is kind of a loaded term and also not that useful in this context imo. It varies by flight but that's not going to be the defining factor in whether a specific clan has like, lightbulbs and antibiotics.

Long answer:

On the whole, Sorneith's tech level is going to be below that of modern-day Earth. Sorneith is orders of magnitude less industrialized, less electrified, and less computerized. Mass comm as we have it is very much not a thing.

Also, please add "with some exceptions" to every paragraph because it is all with some exceptions. Reality is like, 70% exceptions by mass.

High tech (computers, telecom, aerospace, etc) is going to be clustered in urban, high-population areas and is often associated with Lightning, Arcane, Wind, and Plague flights.

Things like telecom and transportation are going to be small scale and local (examples: a telephone network that covers a single city, or train tracks that only go between a factory and a mine). Lack of interflight cooperation, lack of intraflight cohesion, and all sorts of environmental factors mean that no one is building large scale infrastructure and it would be extremely difficult or impossible to maintain if they did. There are all kinds of things that dragons could technically build, but don't because no one is willing to build the infrastructure necessary to support it.

Electricity generation is not uncommon, but is again going to be highly localized and probably magic based. No huge dams that power the whole county or whatever. There is a petrochemical industry, but it is mainly geared towards manufacturing, not fuel. Yes, dragons have plastic. Sorry.

A lot of mechanical stuff is powered by kinetic energy, often in the form of clockwork. Windmills are also very common, especially in agricultural contexts (hulling, grinding flour, etc) but also for things like looms.

Plague and Nature have the most advanced biomedical science, with an emphasis on gengineering and modifying already existing species that other flight cultures can find offputting (but not offputting enough to not take advantage, of course). The Plague approach to treating illnesses consists largely of breeding bacteria for specific purposes - if you get measles, your medicine is going to consist of a live culture of measles-hunting bacteria that will cure you by spreading through your body and eating all the measles pathogens, then dying off. The Nature approach is more focused on identifying plants with medicinal effects and modifying them to be more effective, with an emphasis on symptom management and preventing transmission while letting the body ultimately fight off the infection on its own.

Plague is also the flight that invented solid-state computing, specifically for medical implants and prosthetics. Lightning and Arcane are still fighting over who had the first computer but they were using crystals and vacuum tubes, and mostly still are. Personal computers are typically not a thing.

Personal transportation technology is less about vehicles and more about body modification (temporary or permanent) to make running and flying easier or more efficient. These are often adapted to/from mobility assistance tech for disabled dragons. Flying is more common in this context than running because large parts of Sorneith lack good roads.

Agricultural technology is going to be geared towards things like modified seeds, chemical fertilizers, and farming techniques rather than things like tractors. Factory/mass production is something that would be more ubiquitous if there was better transportation infrastructure; as it is, it mostly exists near large urban centers (example: barrel factory that makes all the barrels for the big city, but doesn't sell any nonlocally. surrounding towns have their own coopers or get them from someone in another small town.) or where the product is something that clicks all the boxes of

Hard to make / knowledge to make it is not widespread / can only be made in certain conditions (jam factory makes no sense because anyone can make jam)

Enough demand to justify factory production (hydroelectric turbine factory makes no sense because there aren't enough dams around to make more than like, one turbine a year. pointless)

Expensive or necessary enough to justify nonlocal shipping/transport (ribbon factory makes no sense because hauling it across the continent it costs like twelve times as much as the ribbon)

In practice, this mostly means medicines and some types of electronics.

Cargo transportation is usually water-based. Steamships exist but are unpopular and unlikely to supplant sailing or dragon-powered ships.

Other things they have: firearms (primitive, used for mostly hunting or gunsports), nuclear power (relatively new, there are like single digit plants and all but one or two are in Lightning), radio (I said no large-scale telecom but there are a couple of big NGOs that are really pushing it), artificial intelligence (almost exclusively magic-powered, also very rare), typewriters, mimeographs, adding machines, phonographs, cameras, refrigeration (semi-common).

Things they don't have: Broadcast television (cable only, where it exists), the internal combustion engine (I could write a whole nother post about vehicles and why there aren't many), militarized explosives (that's what magic is for), internet (could you imagine).

[ofsmokenandgold]

Land of Women - Episode 4

And we're back to people being really annoying.

Let's start with Kate, since that is where the episode starts, with her mother in labor - and of course looking glamorous as always - I refer everyone to Sugar in season 3 of The Bear - that's what women look like when they are in labor.

Anyway, Kate is now running out of hormones and decides to head into town to fix that, meets up with the lovely mechanic (do we ever get a name for her) and gets talked into standing up for herself, which in this case means threatening the doctor into writing her a prescription. Not sure what the laws are on that in Spain - but in a lot of places that could lose him his license. Still, again she's 17 and in a pickle because her mother didn't think things through.

Julia also spends the episode causing havoc, in this case for Andreu - she steals his gun - and the priest; now that she thinks Andreu is infertile she tells the priest he's Gala's father and he gives up the priesthood. Then when the heavies show up, instead of signaling to Andreu that something is wrong (which she could have done during that handsy bear hug) she just steals his gun even though she clearly has no idea how to use it. Again she has dementia, so can be excused some of it - but JFC I thought we were supposed to like these people.

As for our main protagonist she has spent the night rearranging all of Amat's furniture, much to his annoyance and Montse's amusement. This is when we get the "friends with benefits" conversation. Apparently, Gala was up all night because Amat and Montse were fucking all night. All night! Okay, let's be real here, Amat's at least 40; if he and Montse have multiple rounds in one night (the implication is more than two) then they have some serious sexual energy going there. Is that really something he wants to give up? That suggests that they are VERY compatible.

The entire conversation is both amusing and frustrating, he claims they are just FWB; but then they both hedge that it's because they don' want any gossip in the village. At the same time Montse is clearly not threatened by Gala being possessive of the house - both her rearranging of the furniture and her continued (and really annoying) insistence that it is "our" house. Montse spends the entire time quietly drinking her coffee and smirking at Amat's discomfort. Either she really doesn't care if Gala appropriates him, or she's just sufficiently confident in herself and whatever she has going with Amat to be amused by the whole thing. As Julia says "Now we know why Montse's always smiling."

For the next half of the episode Amat and Gala bicker, she comes up with a plan to save the coop; he has to make it work because she continues to piss off all the ladies. Pisses them off even more by getting handsy with him when he hurts his back - and gets told very firmly to leave him alone because he is taken. (Although I did have to agree with the moment of 'female gaze' when she was looking at his arms in the tractor - very nice arms). So much for the ladies of the village not being aware of Amat and Montse. I do love how they immediately jump to her defense - both Gala AND Amat get warned about not trespassing on Montse's feelings. And then the two heavies show up and Gala gets called away. Of course, she tells no one what's going on so everyone at the Coop is even more pissed at her because she's leaving them to do all the work.

Let's talk a little about the ladies of the Coop - I thought when they were warning both Gala and Amat about Montse, that this would be the point we'd get a turn around in the direction of the show's romantic focus. That the show would go in an a new and interesting direction of NOT having the two leads end up with each other. Because, if Gala wants to be on good terms with these people, poaching Amat away from the local girl is not the way to do it. And then @nie-narzekam made an even better point in the notes to the last episode - AMAT shouldn't want to piss them off either. He's spent five years building up trust and a rapport with these people, but he's going to throw that all away by being shitty to one of their own. And again, he is being shitty, because he's not talking to her about it and he's blowing her off. There is a moment towards the end when he is looking for Gala and family and he comes to Montse to ask if she's seen them and she asks if they had a date, and he just brushes her off and reiterates that he's looking for Gala. As he walks away it's clear from her face that she's beginning to see that he's a little too invested in this newcomer.

So this episode just left me even more confused as to what the writers were going for. They have set Amat up as a good man - he's built trust with the community, he's clearly integrated himself with them, he helps people, he's kind, he appears to have integrity (is kind to dogs, always a good thing). He is also in a relationship, whatever its nature, with Montse. One that involves frequent, enthusiastic sex, setting up dates and is known to the entire village. But faced with a newcomer that has attracted his attention, he's just refusing to deal with talking to the woman he's actually sleeping with and is what? What the hell is he planning to do and why do the writers think that this is all okay?

I really do think that they are just treating Montse like an NPC, and they are expecting the audience to do the same thing.

[gumnut-logic]

WiP Wednesday

Ooh, look, it’s still Wednesday and I actually remembered.

As for WiPs, they seem to be all I can post lately anyway, so I actually have plenty to post.

-0-0-0-

“I really wish you boys wouldn’t do that.”

Her voice had lost her usual calm, and it hurt.

He opened his mouth to protest but was startled when her finger pressed down across his lips in a command for silence.

“You do so much, there was no need to…”

Something caught in his throat and he coughed. Everything screamed. The sky shuddered and all he could hear was the blood in his ears.

“Virgil! Virgil, honey…” Her soft palm cupped his cheek as to reach into the abyss and catch him. “Stay with me.” And in those words was some of the more familiar steel in her voice. No one denied Lady Penelope anything.

No-one.

He fought for focus, but breathing hurt, everything hurt, living hurt. Blue eyes hovered above him with that steely demand and he had no choice but to obey.

“Your brothers are coming.”

His brothers. He blinked.

Scott was going to be upset.

Gordon…

John…

He had to be there to stop them from going too far. He was the rock, the stability, he owed them his presence.

Allie…

His heart caught in his throat again and tried to strangle him. It was so damned hard to breathe and it wasn’t fair.

It was supposed to be a fun day. They had been shopping…for farm equipment of all things. Lady P wanted a new tractor and rather than ordering online, Virgil had offered to take her to a couple of dealers in person.

Of course, being female, no matter her presence, had its downsides in all mechanical purchases in the area of respect of knowledge. Lady P was a farmer…just not your everyday kind of farmer.

Parker had been known to get…upset…when his charge was treated like a moron and then charged twice the price.

Penelope had been known to bite herself.

So Virgil had volunteered to lend a little support, knowledge, and respect when he asked if the tractor could be painted pink. Of course, he could easily paint it himself, but there was a certain self satisfaction to watch the occasional misogynist squirm. Did them good and gave him a little amusement.

He was all for education, after all.

So he had taken both Lady P and Parker out for a spin in Tracy 2 and dropped in on some of the best dealers in tractors on a couple of continents.

He hadn’t expected to get himself shot.

He really hadn’t considered that misogyny got that extreme. Apparently pink wasn’t the colour for a tractor after all. And hicks carried shotguns.

Someone waved a gun in Lady P’s direction and let’s face it, Virgil hadn’t had a choice.

-0-0-0-

[aperrywilliams]

I've been thinking a lot about season 1-3 Spencer with sweaty palms and a handful of books trying to ask out the girl at his local bookstore 💕 for your blurbs!

Season 1-3 Spencer: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy <3

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

"I can do this. I can do this." Spencer reassured himself. But all Morgan's pep talks about women and Penelope's bizarre dating ideas weren't helping Spencer overcome his anxiety right now.

All the confidence he could build for an entire week vanished every Saturday as soon as he stepped foot in the bookstore and saw her behind the counter.

Like a good scientist, Spencer had analyzed all the options to address the issue, but none gave him the certainty he needed. On the contrary, he could only think about the rejection he would receive and that the girl would laugh in his face.

Maybe this wasn't the time, and he thought it was better to try the following Saturday. But when he was about to make that choice, the girl at the counter looked at him with a warm smile on her lips.

Shit. Spencer hadn't realized he was standing in the center of the bookstore, in full view of everyone, with a stack of books in his arms. When did he take all those books?

He'd been caught, and now he'd have to go through with the plan—which wasn't a plan because he didn't have one in the first place.

Walking to the counter, Spencer could feel his palms sweating and his knees shaking as he got closer to her.

"Hello. I see this Saturday you got carried away," the girl pointed out, seeing the stack of books.

Wait, what? Has she been noticing him? Oh, shit. 

Spencer felt like he could faint then and there. He couldn't say anything, just nodded, leaving the pile over the counter.

How would he ask her out if he couldn't say a word?

There was no way this was going to work.

The girl began to inspect the books and pass them through the reader. Spencer just stared at her dumbfounded.

"I didn't know your taste was so varied," the girl commented, smiling and looking back at him.

Say something, Spencer. Just say something.

"Yeah. I - I am comfortable with - with all types of writings," Spencer stuttered.

"I see that. Mechanics' business and erotica seem quite broad."

What?! Spencer certainly hadn't paid attention to the books he pulled from the shelves.

Spencer's face flushed red. Now he did just want to run and disappear.

"I - uhm -"

"Don't worry. I like to read that kind of thing too. I mean, the mechanics ones," she spoke, winking at him.

Spencer clearly didn't get the hint.

"Oh! Did you know there are nearly as many different types of mechanics as there are different types of vehicles and motors? Farm equipment mechanics who deal with tractors, harvesters, and other farm machinery. Motorboat mechanics who handle inboard or outboard boat engines. The Mobile heavy equipment mechanics work on construction machinery such as cranes, bulldozers, and conveyors. And, of course, Motorcycle mechanics who maintain and repair motorcycles, scooters, and mopeds," Spencer ranted. The girl seemed impressed and equally amused.

"I didn't know, actually," the girl answered truthfully.

"I can give you book recommendations related to that if you'd like," Spencer offered enthusiastically and less overwhelmed than he had been three minutes ago.

The girl returned a genuine smile. The boy was rather shy and oblivious but adorable by all accounts.

"Or maybe you could tell me more about that over a coffee?" she said.

Spencer's mouth went agape. A coffee? With her? 

Almost speechless, he nodded. The girl nodded as well.

"Great! my shift ends at noon. Can we go to the coffee shop down the street if you're free?"

Spencer nodded again.

Say something, you idiot! He chastised himself.

"It would be great. Sure. I - I'll come back by noon. Sure. I'll be here." Spencer assured, a big smile forming on his lips.

Of all the options Spencer considered, this was the least likely. But without a doubt, the best one.

[cutegirlmayra]

Here's a prompt. Tails has has to go to a science convention they're usually filled with boring geezers and pretentious people who think they're "better." Tails is allowed to bring someone since Sonic won't go he asks Amy. While there they make fun of all the "leading minds and elites" Tails feels less alone having a friend there and gives his best presentation yet.

-Sing-songy- Prompts are on Shut-Down~! That means don’t click the IN-Boxxx~ It’s very fuuuullll~ I don’t have time, anymore~ So, leave it be! (-background choir- Yes, leave it be!) It needs to rest just like my aching fingers and headddd~ (She’s so behind!) I thank you for your timmmeeee~ For trusting me with your ideas! -kicks- I’ll keep trying to complete’em! -Kicks- I just need more of your patience, kiddo! (She’s tryin’!) So keep your head’s held high! I’ll post them on the fly! Just keep your eyes upon my channels and writing sittteeesss~ (She’ll work overtime!) For your smillleeessss~ -big finisher, water sprays everywhere, show girls hug my sides and pose as I spread my full arm-span out and lean my head back to belt the last bit. We then proudly freeze in place for photos.)

Prompt:

Tails stood with his enhanced plane mechanics dissected and laid simply upon the presentation table, feeling like a nervous kid at a science fair while older human men walk by to examine the scientific break-throughs, but only give his stall a glance before moving on.

For some reason, Tails didn’t realize that men of science would be that particularly interested in the ‘look’ of a presented scientific wonder than the actual ‘wonder of invention’ itself.

His script in hand for the later ‘speech’ segment of the convention, he twisted it repeatedly between his gloved hands… wringing it as it cried out crumbled sounds to match his withering self-confidence…

He looked at the ground, his mock-model plane displayed up on a model-stick, the paint beautiful, and his cards for explaining each ingenious piece of it’s refigured structure modeled on the table as well.

‘Well, if I could have flown it, they’d stop and stare, wouldn’t they!?’ He angrily continued to wring the life out of the twisted papers in his hands.

He turned to the table, no longer able to see what looked like a red bear of somekind come up to the panel, scratch his chin, and then nod and take his leave through the crowd flowing past his stall.

“Gah..!” He hit the table with both his hands, squinting his eyes closed, “They won’t even ask a single question or make a remark..!” He had no idea what they were thinking…

The memory of Sonic turning his back to him, whimsically stating that science fairs weren’t really his thing, and winking to him that he’ll do great replayed in his mind a moment… only making his fingers upon the table flinch and twitch at the insensitivity…

‘Did Sonic really believe in me..? Or was that his way of avoiding a ‘boring’ science convention?’ He sighed as he relaxed his tense arms to gently begin sliding off the table, as though losing hope, before a familiar voice caught his attention.

“Wow! It’s even more expansive than the X-Tornado, Tails!”

The sound of Amy’s voice lifted him up in surprise, as he turned around with almost tears of joy in his eyes, “Amy… When did you get here?!” He spread his arms out wide, his twin tails flopping excitedly to show his true emotions of having a friend there to support him in his time of need.

Amy, seeing that, giggled, and moved her souvenir science bag, given to all who paid ticket entry, to the front of her and off her shoulder, “I got your letter in the mail about it! Of course I’d come to cheer you on, Tails!” She looked around, “It must be kinda lonely… not knowing anyone…”

“Are you kidding!?” Tails raced to her side, looping an arm around her and pulling her down to his height, pointing, “That’s Dr. Yellow’s newest machine that protects against sun’s harmful rays! You put it in water and let it sit and absorb light away from skin, like a tractor beam!” He turned her abruptly, causing her to cry out a second in alarm, before pointing to another scientist, “That’s Dr. Uda Strainheart! She’s the top-leading scientist for genetic modification!!!”

He continued to explain, expound upon, and geek out over everyone in attendance.

Amy just sweatdropped a bit in his eager explanation, clearly meaning he hadn’t a friend in the world here, but didn’t dare stop listening and nodding to each of his excited rants about them.

“Wow, I’m glad to see such an amazing mix of talented men and women.” She gestured about, “Including my favorite… You~” She booped his nose.

He chuckled, blushing at her sweetness, “Thanks, Amy… To be honest, I wasn’t really intimidated… more embarrassed…” He bent his ears down, “I’ve always wanted to attend this convention with my own scientific breakthrough… but I… Ohhh… I don’t really feel competent anymore.” He lowered his head. “I don’t have amazing works like sun polarizing mechanics that can draw in harmful light beams, or even change the genetic makeup so a child doesn’t inherit a harmful disease… I just made a new and improved fighter plane that no one seems to think is really helpful to society at large…” He rotated his fingers around each other, “I think… I have to make some sort of contribution to ‘health and safety’ to really make people stop and stare at my work…”

Amy, hearing enough, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him to the front of her, “Now look here, Mr. Miles Prower!” He looked greatly shocked by her using his full name. “What’s more safe than a machine that can go toe-to-toe with a Egg-Destroyer? With a cosmic meteor shower!? You’ve literally created a heroic piece of machinery to protect and defend the whole ‘health and safety’ of the ENTIRE PLANET!” She let him go and threw out her arms into the space above his head. “You’re a GENIUS, Tails! It’s the health and safety of the environment against deadly threats like robotic takeovers or literal levels of cataphoric anomalies the size of the extinction of dinosaurs! You gotta have more confidence in yourself, buddy!” She nudged his arm, and he couldn’t help but smile at the kindness of his dear friend.

“You… You really did read my letter…” He nodded, wiping a tear out of his eye, “Y-Yeah… I guess… I’m not so good at… umm… praising myself? I guess?” He looked at his shoddy, make-shift station to present his work…

“Then you’ve gotta sell your passionate love to make them all fall in love with you!” She got all riled up with fire in her eyes, holding up her fists and looking as though she was trying to set the entire convention up on a date with Tails…

“Uhhh… H-How do I do that? And not go that far, either…” He sweatdropped, forgetting who he was talking to…

“You gotta declare your love to the masses! So those other stingy, pompous scientist nerds have to recognize you no matter what!” Her enthusiasm made him cower back a second.

“E-Easy, Amy…” She jutted herself into his face as he tried to pull back.

“Come on, Tails! In order to win the hearts of those you care about and adore, you’ll have to make them admire and love you! And so,” She took his hand, racing towards the stage, “You gotta beat all the other hopeful suitors to the punchline!!!” She threw him on the stage, making him cry out as he wiggled his arms about but got his tails spinning to land on the stage.

“A-Amy!” He reached out for her, but she held up his plane, winking.

“Give it all you got, Tails!”

He lowered his ears again, looking to see everyone now staring at him, turning to face him and corral around the stage.

“Uhh… uhhhhhhhh-AH!” He was suddenly shot with a spotlight, and all eyes were on him.

He nervously tried to unfold his paper, shrieking silently to himself when his eyes almost bulged out of his sockets at seeing that his wringing behavior from nerves and frustration caused the sweat of his hands to bleed out the script, the words now smearing with the ink all over his gloves.

He hadn’t noticed… what will he do now!?

“Ah, That’s…” Amy’s eyes noticed something above the stage, “Sonic! Spin into this!!!” She threw the plane into the air.

“Ah! Sonic!?” Tails looked above his head, turning around to see a blue spinball go to bash against the toy plane. “Woah! Uhh… Initiate astroid protocol!” He cried out, as the plane began to transform and fire out fake firepower towards Sonic, looking like foam missiles and the like.

Some were just artistically recreated versions of the actual equipment on it.

Tails swiped out his hand holding the script, no longer needing it, “Advance!”

The Plane wobbled a second before boosters shot out, two on each end, and it’s wings flipped to reveal a set of two on each end.

“Now, defeeenndddd!!!” Tails cried out, as Amy rushed up where Sonic was spindashing, holding her arms out wide as the plane’s wings spread out and a photo-realistic projection showed a pink grid screen effect, a wide shield as it then fired out more attacks onto the spinning hedgehog.

Tails watched as Sonic proved his trust in his friend’s abilities, and gave that model plane all of his furious, highspeed shredding.

The crowd went into awe, gasping at the marvel, as the plane pushed against a massive force and held its place perfectly in the air. Its position never wavered, its armor never tore, and Amy smiled at seeing the sparks coming off of its hide, knowing Sonic wasn’t just doing this for show, but was also giving everything he had to the model plane.

“Hit it BACCCCKK!!!” Tails threw himself back, shouting with every bit of passion he had and knowing his invention would hold.

The Plane then turned its boosters in on eachother, and with the four flames becoming a singular, strong entity… The plane shoved with a fierce propulsion Sonic’s spinball up and through the convention’s roof.

“That asteroid returned to a new orbit.” Amy winked and saluted, “Thanks to the amazing and masterful hand of my dear friend,” She then held out her hand to gesture to Tails on the stage, “The youngest inventor of ingenuity yet! A marvel of humility! Miles ‘Tails’ Prower!”

Immediately, people were scrambling to the edge of the stage, crying out, “Oh, Mr. Prower! Mr. Prower!?” Trying to grab at his attention first to ask their questions.

The little toy plane slowly flew down as Amy moved up to gently catch it, “Great job, little buddy.” She smiled at it, then looked up proudly to Tails as he was clambered with scientific enthusiasts and minds all wanting to hear more about his great invention.

Amy then looked up to see Sonic’s head silouetted by the light of the outside crater left in the rooftops, his face darkened by him looking down, before slowly moving off and away.

She heard the similar sound of speeding away, and gently closed her eyes with that same kind smile. ‘Thank you… For not letting Tails down, Sonic.’ She sent almost a silent prayer of gratitude to him, before looking back to Tails who was being tugged left and right, the crowd going bonkers and nuts for him.

“Ah! Hey! O-One at a time!!! Form a line! Form. A. LINE!” She summoned her hammer and began to defend him, still holding the plane like a baby cradled in her arms. Her face turned scary and the people quickly moved back, giving the stage some space.

“Now, you first, please.” Amy used her hammer to direct everyone’s attention to a young girl, who put her hands together as her eyes sparkled towards Tails.

“Mr. Prower… Does your invention have a name?”

Tails smiled, nodding, “It does.” He looked to the crater as the Sonic X sound-music just before the end of an episode began to play. “It’s called… The Sonic-Striker!”

Truth be told, he hadn’t actually named it yet… Now he had the perfect name for it!

Next convention, he had a pink and blue model made, one called the Rose-Courge, and the other… Sonic-Striker Mark II. It was displayed that the Rose-Courage was a support system for the Sonic-Striker Mark II… and a newer model was being created for astronomical storms predicted for future times against the climate-changes threatening natural disasters… The Tails-Pride.

[oakandgumtrees]

The Lady in the Library, Part 1

It was a dreary November Thursday that the call came in. I was the only one in the office at the time, since the others were out sick or doing inspections, so I was the one who answered the phone.

“Berkshire Library Effect Professionals, how can I help you?”

At first, I assumed it was another fucking bookshop owner trying to organise their annual certification - it seemed like that was all I’d been doing for a month and a half. (When the phone rang, I’d been writing up the assessment of a shop with twelve shelf metres per square metre. Twelve.) So maybe I wasn’t paying as much attention as I should have been.

I was opening up a booking form for an estate assessment when the words “twenty thousand” lodged in my brain. 

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

The fancy lawyer on the other end did not seem impressed. “The late Mr Stockton’s collection contains an estimated twenty thousand volumes,” he repeated primly. “It has been built up by several generations of Stocktons, in the library at their family home.”

Oh. 

Oh no.

Oh fuck.

-----

John and I went out that same afternoon to do a preliminary assessment. It was already four when we left, but the solicitor hadn’t cared about paying for overtime, and had cared about getting things started quickly, so we loaded up our kits and set out for Alderford Manor.

John had been doing this job for nearly forty years, and had gone through cynicism and out the other side. It didn’t surprise him that we were going to a country house where the library was probably going to have spatial, temporal, and eccentric distortions. He’d seen it all before.

I, on the other hand, had been a library effect professional for about eight years, and was at the peak of my cynicism. “Twenty thousand, he said, and it’s never been assessed!”

“Mind the tractor.”

I slowed down so the aforesaid tractor could squeeze between us and the hedge. “Bloody self-important, over-confident bastards,” I muttered. “It’s probably all crammed in there, too. Private owners never give a shit about book density.” Not that density would make much of a difference with that many books. Mild library effects started kicking in around a thousand books per room, usually. Twenty thousand almost guaranteed trouble, especially with pre-Edwardian architecture.

“Does that mean you want to be site manager while I do the walkthrough?” John teased. “Next left now.”

If I hadn’t been driving, I’d have glared at him. (Which he definitely knew.) “Of course I want to do the walkthrough!” I snapped. Pacing out large libraries was the riskiest part of our job, but it was also the most exciting, and the chance didn’t come around every day. Who knew what we’d find? “...I just want to be able to bitch about stupid clients when we’re out of earshot.”

He smirked at me. 

I checked the mirrors and pretended I couldn’t see him.

-----

Alderford Manor was the sort of eighteenth century country house that was scattered all over England, and like many of them, it was starting to look a little shabby. Nothing drastic, but the curtains were a little worn, the upholstery faded, and I could tell whatever staff worked here, they were falling behind with the dusting and polishing. In short, exactly what you’d expect from a house that was going to be sold because it was too much trouble to whatever distant relative had inherited it. 

Its library was anything but ordinary.

Long aisles of shelving stretched from the entrance into shadow, dividing a seemingly cavernous room into narrow passages. There were no windows to relieve the gloom, and the inbuilt lights illuminated little but shadows and the occasional gilded label. Every vertical surface was packed with books, some as old as the house, some purchased in the last few decades. 

I exchanged looks with John, and began to pack my vest and kit bag.

Phone. Spare phone battery. Notebook. Pencils. Chalk. Voice recorder. Film camera. Mechanical stopwatch. Digital stopwatch. Compass. Plumbline. Light meter. Altimeter. Water. Emergency food rations. First aid kit. Emergency blanket. Radio. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t need most of it. If I was unlucky, it might not be enough.

Anchor rope hooked to my belt, radio around my neck, and surveyor’s wheel in hand, I ventured into the library. “From the door, ninety degrees left, following the wall,” I reported quietly. My footsteps were nearly silent on the rug, and the space had the deadened atmosphere of noise cancellation. Who knew, if there had been bells like a monastic library, if I would have even heard them?

Deeper and deeper I followed the wall, calling out measurements to John as I went. His voice was steady on the other end, if a little crackly, anchoring me as much as the rope did.

And then I turned a corner, and saw a silhouette that definitely shouldn’t have been there.

“John?” I asked carefully. “Didn’t Mrs Jones say everyone was accounted for?”

The figure in the shadows stood, and moved towards the light. “Good afternoon,” she said warily - definitely a woman’s voice, low and refined. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.”

She stepped into the light, revealing an outfit straight out of an Austen novel. 

“N-No,” I stammered, dipping into an utterly mangled half-curtesy out of some bizarre instinct that the gesture would help. “I don’t imagine you have.”

Part 2