#constr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheriladycl01 · 3 months ago

Text

I payed my dues - Oscar Piastri x FemNorrisDriver! Reader

Plot: Y/N Norris and her thoughts on Hungary and Monza 2024.

A/N: This is fiction and I don’t want to see any genuine hate towards Oscar or Lando in my comments. I just could see a Lando sister getting really protective and this idea stemmed from my ‘My love is mine all mine’ fic …

As Lando’s little sister, you’d come into the sport two years after him. Rookie Season with McLaren in replacement of Carlos Sainz.

You basically just road your brothers bumper unless you’d out qualified him by a long shot. But you were very obviously second driver, and you were okay with that. You were an incredible driver, already rivalling your brother. However, you wanted a chance for race wins and so when Christian Horner came to you about taking over Sergio Perez, you knew you needed to take it seriously.

And you knew being in a top team would pave the way for you too go into a top team as a top driver.

You and Max stormed though the 2023 season having an incredible stint of race wins between you and for the first time since being in Formula One you had ended the season above your brother in the standings and you now had 5 race wins under your belt that you didn’t have in McLaren.

2024 and the season was starting off strong for you and Max. You and Max were behind each other in the standing and got a very high way up. You were incredibly consistent not falling out of the top 5 for any race. Even when Max had a DNF for cooling issues you still made podium.

Miami was a special moment. It was a McLaren-RedBull Sandwich on the podium. You were so incredibly happy for your brother and his first career win. He’d worked so hard with McLaren thus far and he was the most loyal person you knew for sticking by their side.

But Hungary … you all could tell there was something different with the McLaren since Miami. Lando was on pole yet Oscar got around him into turn 1 and after some dramatic undercutting for the pit stop. Oscar took his first race win.

There was redemption in Zandvoort … but then Monza. Lando was on pole. Oscar was in P2. And you were in P3.

Strategy was for you to put pressure on Oscar who they thought was going to defend for Lando so that he could keep P1.

However … team orders didn’t seem to be a thing.

“And Norris makes it out of turn 1 still in first place. Y/N putting pressure on Oscar Piastri as we go into turn 2. Oscar no longer defending for Lando Norris and omg, through goes Y/N Norris into P1” the commentators say.

At the end of Monza you ended in P1, Charles Leclerc P2 and Oscar P3. Your brother out of the points but having set the fastest lap.

After watching the footage of Oscar baiting Lando and not defending him from you like a good teammate would you were beyond fucked off. It was the riskiest overtake of the month and shouldn’t have been done especially between teammates as both Oscar and a Lando could have ended out.

“So Y/N incredible race from you how are you feeling?” An interviewer for sky sports asks you and you nod.

“Yeah, really hot in the car today. Happy that I could gain places and win, and yeah I think McLaren will learn something’s after today” you say shortly not wanting your PR team to hate you for shitting on anyone.

“And what’s that? What do you think they’ll learn?” He asks cocking his head to the side.

“I dunno man, but having driven for McLaren as second driver behind my own brother for 2 seasons even when I was the quicker driver or I had the fresher tires I was still asked to defend Lando in the position he was in rather than overtake and that’s why we had such great results. Then you manipulate your diver into giving back position saying he’ll need the support in the future and proceed not to give them that support? Lando is so close to overtaking me and Max and you’d think McLaren would start to prioritise a driver … the one who is closest? No? Because I also helped Charles through today which has pushed McLaren as a constructors back even further. So McLaren really need to look at what they want to do going forward… they say my doesn’t have a championship mentality … no McLaren racing don’t have a championship mentality” you say your frown getting angrier as you continue speaking.

“And do you think RedBull have what it takes to secure the championship?” He asks and you nod.

“We already have” you say confidently.

“Some … harsh words from Red Bull driver Y/N Y/L/N there” the interviewer says just as your PR manager starts to pull you away.

“Your a menace you know that right?” She sighs as she drags you away.

“Yeah I know …” you sigh.

“Ooo what the hell was that about?” Oscar rushes coming up to you.

“What was what?” You laugh, looking over him up and down at his race suit that was loosely hanging around his hips. You had just made a comment that wasn’t wrong, and it was your opinion, one that you were entitled too.

“You’re shit talking me on interviews just because your pissy McLaren never saw your potential and that we now have the better car” Oscar says crossing his arms making you burst out laughing.

“So my freedom of speech is just gone now? I can’t make comments but you can question Stroll driving like he’s in go-karts still? Fucking grow up Oscar and then maybe just maybe you’ll be half the driver you pretend to be” you tell him, a stern look on your face.

“That’s not exactly fair, did you see the way he was driving?” He asks with an incredulous look on his face.

“Rich coming from you mate, did you see the way YOU were driving. Look I used to have a lot of respect for you, especially last year with how helpful you were … but I don’t know what’s gotten into you this year” you say, a little softer than the rest of the conversation had gone, wondering what had happened to the boy you once had a crush on.

“Your just sour that were quickly catching up top you, just like Ferrari and Mercedes are and that you aren’t as good as your brother” he says t matching your softer tone.

“I payed my dues at McLaren Oscar and that’s how I’ve ended up where I am now. It’s your turn to take the backseat once in a while and respect your teammate whose been grafting his arse of and dedicating his life to the team” you frown, once again angry that he isn’t seeing sense with you.

“I’m not a secondary driver like you Norris…” he seethes.

“Hey hey hey what’s going on here” is heard from behind Oscar as your brother and two McLaren staff come running up next to him. He stops next to Oscar looking between the pair of you, both having furrowed brows.

“Maybe tell your teammate to start acting like one if you want both championships yeah?” You frown before taking your leave and walking into the Red Bull hospitality immediately flopping down in a booth next to Max.

“I didn’t know you felt that way about Oscar…” Max sighs softly.

“Yeah well neither did I until today…”

Instagram Story Caption:

Can’t say the same for everybody!

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst t @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

386 notes · View notes

friedri-ce · 23 days ago

Note

bro why is micheal crucified? what did my boy do to deserve this?

to cut long story short, it was a punishment from the council for questioning the existence of god (and losing an important fight)

if you wanna know more, you can read the (almost) full lore here 😁

#oh michael why did you have to be so dumb 💔#im only joking btw its not his fault #rice's stuff

62 notes · View notes

ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year ago

Text

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Three

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Mild angst. Word count: ~3.1k

Chapter summary: The dinner date happens, and much more besides that.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She hasn’t been able to shake the memory of Aemond’s lips since they kissed on Wednesday evening. He’d dropped her home shortly afterwards, letting her know he’d pick her up at 7pm on Friday. Since then her tummy has fluttered every time he crosses her mind. If she closes her eyes she can almost taste the red wine and cigarettes on the plushness of his lips as they’d pressed eagerly against her own.

She knows it is foolish to wish for something more, to expect their arrangement to be something other than transactional, but that kiss had felt like he meant it, so she allows herself a tiny slither of hope to believe there is the possibility for a genuine connection to blossom between them.

Relieved when her last minute annual leave request for Friday is approved, she gets to work on making sure she looks her best. She intends to spend the day face masking, exfoliating and shaving until she is the very picture of perfection for her dinner date.

She’s startled by the buzzer to the flat, rushing to the door to answer the intercom. She lets the delivery driver up, assuming it’s something Mysaria has ordered, but balks when three parcels are handed to her, each of them with her name on.

She opens the first, it contains a black floor length Ralph Lauren off the shoulder gown with a thigh high slit. She holds it against herself in front of the mirror, she knows Aemond is generous to her, but she is still awestruck by the sheer extent of how much he is prepared to spoil her.

The second package is a pair of Jimmy Choo black suede open toe platform sandals with a stiletto heel and delicate ankle strap. She turns the shoes over in her hand, marveling at them, but also wondering how on earth she’ll ever manage to walk in them.

Her phone vibrates and she’s unable to keep the Cheshire cat-like grin from her face as she sees it’s from Aemond.

I saw the tracking information for my gifts update to state they had been delivered. Do you like them?

She fires off a quick response.

I love them :) Thank you xoxo

It’s only after she’s set her phone back down that she remembers there’s a third package, hidden among the wrappings of the first two she’d opened. Her eyes widen as she unwraps it. Agent Provocateur. Aemond has sent her lingerie.

Her palms grow sweaty as her heart races and her thoughts travel faster than her mind has the capacity to keep up with. This clearly meant he anticipated something happening between them this evening. What man sends a woman underwear if he doesn’t expect to see her in it? She isn’t experienced at all. What if he’s disappointed? What if he asked for a refund? Fuck, can sugar daddies even ask that of their sugar babies?

She is broken out of her mild panic when Mysaria comes home. “You in?” She calls out as she closes the front door behind her.

“In here.” She shouts back from her room.

She hears her flatmate toe off her shoes and then pad towards her. She leans against the doorframe, eyeing the packaging and clothes that lay scattered on the carpet and lets out a low whistle.

“Daddy been spoiling you? Lucky girl!” Mysaria says with a grin, which disappears when she sees her worried expression. “What’s the matter?”

She holds up the Agent Provocateur lingerie box by means of response and Mysaria nods in understanding.

“Nothing needs to happen until you feel ready. Why not just try it on and see how you feel?”

She sucks in a steadying breath, attempting to calm herself. There was no harm in trying it on.

It turns out to be a playsuit of sorts. An underwired, padded quarter cup bra with a basque constructed using satin covered black boning and satin straps to create a cage-like effect, complete with suspender straps with gold-toned sliders, with subtle, matching black satin bows. Inside the box is also a flimsy black lace thong and black silk stockings.

“The man’s definitely got taste.” Mysaria says, helping her into it.

They’ve had to boot up her laptop and look up the lingerie on the Agent Provocateur website in order to figure out the intricate series of straps and clasps, and she can’t help but notice the eye watering price that’s listed alongside it online. Fuck. There was no way Aemond wasn’t expecting to sleep with her.

She stands in front of her full-length mirror and runs her hands over her body, looking at the way her breasts sit within the cups of the bra and how the straps of the basque dip and flare with the natural curve of her waist and hips.

“It looks different on the model on the website.” She says nervously, chewing her lip. “What if Aemond doesn’t like it?”

Mysaria snorts derisively. “Girl, please, that model has been airbrushed to shit. You are real and you look hot as fuck. Daddy’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you in that.”

“You really think so?” She asks, turning slightly, still studying herself in the mirror.

Mysaria gives her a playful swat on the backside. “Oh, I know so. Now let’s finish getting you ready.”

Two hours later, her hair and make-up have been perfected by her flatmate, and she stands wearing the dress and shoes that Aemond had gifted her - she has done several practice laps of the living room in the heels, to ensure she doesn’t fall over - the lingerie is snug to her body underneath.

Her nerves disappear the moment Aemond steps out of the car to greet her. His long silver-blonde hair is loose. She has never seen it all down at once, it falls thick and lustrous, well past his shoulders. Yet another well-tailored black suit hugs the broadness of his shoulders and the length of his long legs.

Any uncertainty as to how she ought to say hello dissipates as he cups her jaw and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

“Hi.” He murmurs, keeping her close. “You look beautiful.”

“Hi yourself.” She whispers back. “You don’t look so bad either.”

He helps her into the passenger seat and the drive is spent in comfortable silence, though this time his hand lays a possessive hold on her knee whenever he’s not shifting gears. It leaves tingles across her skin in its wake and the gesture makes her feel lightheaded.

They pull up outside a restaurant called SOLA and Aemond takes her hand as he opens the car door for her.

“I took the liberty of choosing this place because it has a Michelin star. Never actually tried it myself.” He tells her as they walk in.

The dining room is small and intimate, elegantly decorated with an abundance of leafy green plants and sculptural lighting, but she is struck by the distinct lack of other diners.

“Why is no one else here?” She whispers to him as they’re ushered towards their table.

He smirks, watching her take in her surroundings with wide eyes once they are seated, his one seeing eye studies her closely. “I hired the place just for us for tonight. Wanted you all to myself.”

She giggles at that. Such a show off. She expects the food to be equally as flashy, a display of wealth for the sake of it. However, Aemond has ordered ahead of time for the both of them, with choices that suggest a more refined palate that goes beyond merely wanting to splash his cash.

They dine on Kindai bluefin tuna and oysters, paired with crisp white wine and the conversation flows as effortlessly as the wine.

She finds out that there isn’t much in the country from a business standpoint that the Targaryens and Hightowers don’t have a hand in. His father had worked to build an empire alongside his partners Otto and Daemon, prior to his death, and much of it has been left for his children to take care of now that he’s passed. Aemond oversees most of the legal aspects of the business, which is unsurprising to her considering how sharp his mind is.

He listens intently as she tells him more about her history degree and love of fine art. It saddens her when he tells her that originally he’d wanted to study history and philosophy, but had had to give that up to pursue a career in law when his family’s expectations were laid out to him.

It’s obvious there is an abundance of complexities and drama surrounding his family, but she knows better than to attempt to unpick all of that now, especially when the evening is going so well.

Her skin feels heated every time he reaches across the table to gently stroke the back of her hand with his thumb. His eye contact is intense and with every moment that passes she finds any apprehension she had about sleeping with him simply fading away. She wants him.

“Dessert?” He asks, as the meal draws to a close.

She shakes her head with a slight smile. “Couldn’t eat another bite.”

“A pity.” He says, taking her hand and tugging her from her seat towards him. “I’m still absolutely ravenous.”

“For what- oh!” She gasps as he sits her on the edge of the table in front of him, lifting the skirt of her dress to the side by its thigh slit.

He hums in approval as his eye roves over the bottom half of her lingerie. She feels like there isn’t enough air in the room, her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as his hands run up and down her legs. His thumbs stroke the creases where her thighs meet her pelvis as he drinks her in.

“W-what if one of the waiters sees?” She asks nervously, squirming against the heat that pools between her legs.

“Well, I suppose we’d better put on a good show for them.” He tells her with a raise of his eyebrow.

He hooks two fingers into the lace of her thong, pulling it to one side before he leans forward, groaning appreciatively as the flat of his tongue strokes gently through her folds.

A soft moan escapes her. No one has ever taken the time or care to do this to her before, she is unsure of what she’s supposed to do in this situation, but the thought leaves her mind entirely as Aemond begins to flick his tongue against her bud before suckling it harshly. She leans back on her elbows as he devours her with his lips and tongue, doing her best to stifle her noises by biting her lip, her chest heaving with the effort to stay quiet.

Her hands fly to his head, burying themselves in his hair as she bucks against his face when he speeds up his movements. Sounds of enjoyment rumble in his chest, sending shockwaves all the way through her body, causing a telltale tightness to rapidly build within her lower belly.

She finally falls apart, shuddering atop the table with a strangled cry when uses the tip of his tongue to draw tight circles against the most sensitive part of her. He pulls away, his face shining with her slick as he lifts her underwear back into place. He grins, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You okay?” He asks.

She nods, feeling dazed. “Yeah…just…I need a minute.”

Aemond chuckles, smoothing her dress back into place. “Understandable.”

“That was…wow.” Is all she’s able to say once she feels lucid enough.

Aemond stands, helping her from the table. “The bill was taken care of in advance. Let’s head back to my place. I want to be somewhere where you don’t have to stifle those pretty noises you make.”

His hand sits higher on her thigh on the drive back. A mixture of nervousness and excitement has her pulse thrumming from thoughts of what he’ll do to her, of what he’s just done to her. Nobody had ever gone down on her before, but now Aemond has, and on top of a fucking restaurant table of all places.

Aemond lives in the penthouse of a modernised high rise. It’s minimalist. All of the fittings and furnishings are a combination of matte black and shiny silver chrome. It’s clean almost to the point of feeling sterile. It’s obvious he doesn’t spend a lot of time here.

She grins when she sees the elderly doberman raise her head from her bed as they walk through to the living room.

“You must be Vhagar.” She coos softly, kneeling and offering a hand for her to sniff. She scratches gently around the dog’s ears, giggling at the way she narrows her eyes in satisfaction, lifting her salt and pepper snout towards the ceiling.

“She’s not normally fond of strangers.” Aemond muses, as he kneels beside her, ruffling Vhagar’s head.

“The trick is to approach from their level and offer your hand before you try to touch.” She tells him. “Most animals that don’t like people just haven’t been approached by the right ones.”

He stares at her for a few moments, a small smile upon his lips, before he finally breaks the silence.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks, standing and walking towards the kitchen.

“I’m good, thanks.” She follows him and they hover by the kitchen island, simply looking at each other before he surges forward to kiss her.

The force of it feels like it knocks all the air from her lungs, it’s hungry and possessive and she returns it with equal enthusiasm, whimpering as her tongue meets his. He dominates the movement, his hand cupping the back of her head as he backs her into the bedroom.

She topples back onto the bed at his soft but insistent shove. Black sheets of a no doubt ridiculously high thread count feel like buttery silk around her as Aemond kneels before her to tug off her dress.

“Fuck.” He mutters as she lays before him in the lingerie he’d bought for her. “Yeah, we’ll be leaving this on. And these.” He grips the heel of her shoe, as he places a kiss to the inside of her ankle, before letting it drop again.

She watches, transfixed as he sheds his own clothing. Aemond is a work of art. His chest and abs subtly toned, he is all lithe, corded muscle, and she clenches at the sight of him. He is already hard when he strips all the way off, and nerves nibble away at her as she looks at the sheer size of him. Long and thick, lightly veined with a blush pink tip, her mouth waters slightly at the sight, yet there is a part of her that worries it might hurt. She had only ever slept with her ex before, and despite her inexperience she knew enough to know he wasn’t well endowed, nothing compared to this.

Aemond crawls over the top of her, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses to her neck and collarbones that make her writhe beneath him, each one sending warm ripples of arousal through her.

His fingers dip between her legs, pushing past her thong to stroke at her. “Shit,” He hisses. “Still so wet for me, I don’t even have to prepare you.”

He takes a condom from the nightstand, tearing it open and rolling it over the length of him before repositioning himself between her legs.

They both suck in a sharp breath as he begins to push inside, the stretch of him against her sensitive walls is both too much and not enough all at the same time.

“So fucking tight.” He grits outs, his grip on her hips vice like as he bottoms out.

He lays like that, forehead rested against hers as they both adjust, only daring to move his hips once she relaxes.

His strokes are smooth, even and precise, tapping a spot inside of her with every thrust that has her clutching his shoulders and moaning his name.

“Feels so good.” She mewls desperately as his hips piston against her own.

“Oh she likes that.” He hisses, almost mockingly, placing one of her legs over his shoulder and pounding harder into her.

Her eyes roll back at the sensation, her hands grip frantically at Aemond’s biceps and then the bedsheets beside her as he rubs at her clit with his thumb in tandem with each of his thrusts.

“You gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He asks huskily. “I can feel you squeezing me.”

“Fuck!” Is all she’s able to cry out in response as she feels herself tighten and spasm around him, her back arching off of the bed with the force of the pleasure that washes over her.

Her own release triggers Aemond’s and he snarls, holding her tight against his chest as he stills and spills into the condom.

He pulls out, depositing it into the wastebin and pulls her into his arms.

She feels utterly spent, boneless and dazed in the wake of what she’s just experienced, but Aemond isn’t prepared to let her doze off just yet.

He moves down the bed, unbuckling each of her shoes and removes them. He ushers her to the bathroom with a firm tap to her thigh. Once she’s finished and settled back into bed with a glass of water, he begins to slowly unclasp each of the straps of her body suit, softly rubbing and kissing each of the indentations made by the bones of it as it falls away from her body.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispers to her, stroking her hair as she drifts off to sleep.

She awakens the next morning, surprised at how refreshed she feels considering the events of the previous evening. She smiles to herself as she snuggles into the luxurious feeling plushness of the bed, thoughts of how good Aemond had made her feel playing on a loop in her mind. She is startled slightly when she rolls over to find his spot empty.

A note has been left on the bedside table.

Sorry, had to run. Have transferred you money for cab fare - A.

She sighs. She hadn’t expected breakfast in bed, but she can’t deny the sinking feeling in her stomach at the fact he hadn’t bothered to stick around. Rummaging through her things that lay scattered on the floor, she retrieves her phone to look at the time when she sees the banking app notification.

£5,000 from A. Targaryen. Her heart twists painfully in her chest. That wasn’t cab fare, it was payment for last night.

Chapter two || Chapter four || Series masterlist

726 notes · View notes

readingasoiafachapteraday · 1 month ago

Text

THE WORLD OF ICE & FIRE

Reading Order & Thoughts Apparently

//Investigative read with the aim of finishing a fanfic <SPOILERSGALORE>

~this is not intended to be useful in any way shape or form do not construe as such but laughing at it is ok~

The Dawn Age

-dragonglass arrowheads found in giant ribs could be from children-giant war but also cud just as easily be wight giant

-brandon the builder was taken to a secret place by the children when he sought help to build the wall hmmmmmm okk

-“the manner in which Brandon learned to comprehend the speech is a tale in itself and not worth repeating here”?????? WTAF fuck u condal i mean yondel tommen loves stories

-greenseers can see distant events AND COMMUNICATE?hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmplotdevice

-wolfcontrolling skinchangers maxxx common, separately called wargs? stark blood fuckfest much????

-Seastone chair on old wyk wo any ppl SUSSAUCE

The Coming of the First Men

-alleged timing 8000-12000 yrs ago hmmmmm if ww are 6000 yrs ago it’s almost halfway hmmmmmmm

-what they running from? first men possible valyrian ancestors upset w the animalxhuman experiments? conveniently vague time periods

-first settled on DORNE that goddamned desert summins up w ur magic stone i will find u

-greenmen antlermen same same????

-arm of dorne, marshes, all considered natural disasters but w doubt so why not children cause doom of valyria possible??

The Age of Heroes

-ringforts this ringforts that fist of first men this infrastructure that

-find thenn constr. & every single built structure NotW

The Long Night

-do monkeys and elephants have anything in common

-Barth’s “fragmentary treatise” everything shat out by Barth & Munkun makes me want to kms

-Fomas ur understated & prolly right u religious fuck

The Rise of Valyria

-new power in east right after LN recovery, what festive timing gee i wonder if these events r related

-first empire ofc ofc just after old ghis & Qarth & YiTi & Asshai but those r “claims” yea we don’t talk bout that look dragons! blood sacrifice!

-five great wars w ghis “when the world was young” hmmmmmmmm

-Shadow texts say dragons tamed by “people who had no names” hmmmmmmmm

Valyria’s Children

-Qohor&Norvos founded following religious schisms? Only Qohor smiths still know to rework VS

-way way way too many mentions of wealth & human flesh needed in the mines

-fire vs water

-sus that andals & rhoynar both fled from Valyrians but in the second coming “the gods” spoke to the HS while the waterbenders fought both times

-is the long night just fire vs water 2.0?

Arrival of the Andals

-wtf is a fucking swan maiden

-writing the lines of the hugor hill story backwards is not as great a puzzle as u seem to think

-Urron Redhand ruled IIs by “axe&sword” for 1000 yrs, throwaway name? I think the fuck not.

Ten Thousand Ships

-Nymeria of Ny Sar SUS naming

-“few wish to dwell beyond the sound of her eternal song” faith close to old gods

-wtf r the orphans of the greenblood upto

-davos dayne my new OC, forgive me as i project onto u for the forseeable future

-seriously tho the best part so far, need a movie for THIS not whatever fart pudding they baking

The Doom of Valyria

—wtf is the difference between the 14 fires & R’hollor summins weird

-accidental poisoning of one of the flames? like pollution but magical bywaste pollution

-red clouds rained down dragonglass???? and black blood of demons which cud just be dragon blood as they pop in the air from toxicity

-dothraki & sellsword companies both popularised only in the power vacuum

-the conquerer’s attention lay west even as a child hmmmmmm

19 notes · View notes

writingpracticetime · 1 year ago

Note

Did you have any thoughts, story-wise, on what Sandy herself thinks of all this and what her circumstances are? There are of course the inferences that can be made from that letter she got sent (and more specifically that it was turned over unopened) but is/was she in the public eye? Is she kept under close observation in case Constructor/Architect tries to approach her directly, and so on?

Oh I absolutely do have story thoughts about Sandy's opinions on everything. But the trouble with Sandy is--

————————————

Excerpts from recordings of meetings between the Architect and various associates.

————————————

CYBERSCOUT

--and, sorry, remind me why we care?

CONSTRUCTOR

We need to try to anticipate the general public objections to this. We won't be able to avoid them, not when we're going to be breaking so many laws. But we can at least anticipate them and get our own narrative out in advance.

HOBBES

I don't think you get the question. We're villains. Why are we tiptoeing around "public objections?"

CONSTRUCTOR

Because, this is ultimately for the public. We need to try and get out the word about how people are asking for our help, so people know we're responding to their needs. Besides, we can’t accomplish anything for the public without the public. Like Sandy said.

CYBERSCOUT

Who?

CONSTRUCTOR

My--nevermind. Anyway, as I said, let me try to figure things out with Lethe for a minute.

CYBERSCOUT

Alright, alright. I needed to head out anyway, just call me when you have an idea of what shit you want me to spread online.

(Shuffling, people leaving and closing the door behind them.)

CONSTRUCTOR

So you should have a better idea of what people are going to say to all of this. (Pause) Lethe?

LETHE

Sandy...? Cassandra White?

CONSTRUCTOR

You know her?! (Pause) Wait, then--what does she think about me now? Has she--

LETHE

Oh, u-uh no, sorry. I haven't--I never met her, never stood close enough to read her mind certainly. I-I wouldn't know what she thinks about you.

CONSTRUCTOR

...Oh.

LETHE

I just... heard a lot about her.

CONSTRUCTOR

...Funny. Not many people have.

LETHE

Yeaaaaah, um.

——————————

Blog post by Edward Katzenberger, journalist. Later removed and found on wayback.archive.org.

——————————

WHO IS CASSANDRA WHITE?

So, my long term followers all know about my hilariously derailed profile of Constructor assigned shortly before the stadium incident. I’ve kept you all abreast of the many, many delays related to high security super prisons and then my subject running off to start a supervillain career. Because of course, the second I get assigned this extremely exciting personality piece, Constructor becomes completely unreachable.

Alright, well, you might not believe me, but Constructor's manager/agent turned out to be even harder to reach.

At the time, I decided to take the "Frank Sinatra Has a Cold" approach and paint a portrait of Constructor based on the testimonies of coworkers, friends and family. I then found out that I could get testimonies from construction workers and urban planners about what the hero was like to work with (largely positive, if saddened by the recent turn of events) but nothing on what this incredibly beloved figure was like as a friend or family member.

The one thing I kept hearing from everyone was "Cassandra White would know more. The two of them seemed really close."

Now there was a problem: I couldn't find out who the fuck Cassandra White was.

———————————

BONFIRE

You got a--Oh, sorry. Working on something right now?

CONSTRUCTOR

Not work. I'm just-- (sounds of paper, flipping and folding it as Bonfire gets close) Just writing something.

BONFIRE

Writing...?

CONSTRUCTOR

Just scrawling out some thoughts, I guess.

LETHE

Mm. (Quiet) What are you both looking at me for?!

CONSTRUCTOR

What was that about?

LETHE

What was what about??

BONFIRE

Something about the writing...?

LETHE

Nothing! Nothing about the writing. I was just, I was making a noise. Thinking about something else, hahaha.

BONFIRE

.....What is it?

CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing! ... Lethe.

LETHE

I'm sorry! Don't be mad at me!

CONSTRUCTOR

I'm not mad! That was just--that was private.

BONFIRE

What was private?

LETHE AND CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing!

CONSTRUCTOR

(After a pause) ...I was just writing to Sandy again.

BONFIRE

(Irritated, sizzling noise) Ah, right. Sandy.

CONSTRUCTOR

See! This is why I didn't want to tell you.

BONFIRE

I don't see why you couldn't--

LETHE

Leaving! I'm leaving!

————————

It turns out Cassandra White was Constructor’s agent. I try to look her up online and? Nothing. No facebook profile, no personal website, not even a LinkedIn.

That has to be odd for someone who works in PR, right?

I do a little searching to find the agents of other superheroes. I contacted one, and got an interview. I've lost the thread of trying to piece together Constructor's life but I'm curious dammit. I mention the issue I've had with finding her anywhere. He nods his head while I explain the wild goose chase I've been on.

"Well, White is a whole other ballgame," he says. "She took her privacy seriously, and I'm also pretty sure she scrubbed a lot of her history. She was meticulous about records--knowing names in media, tech, and various public archives who could help you scrub a dumb tweet before it snowballed into a PR crisis for your client."

"You can get rid of internet records?"

"Well, not easily. And not after people realize they're important, that's for sure," he said. "I once told her things on the internet are forever. She said, 'No. If people pay attention, then they're forever. But if no one cares in the first place, then it never existed at all.'"

"So there was a process she used to make sure people's images stayed clean," I said, "And she used the same process to make herself a ghost?"

"I imagine so. I mean, she's retired from being an agent and has her fingers in all sorts of other pies these days. Businesses, investments, politics. Plus, I imagine becoming a billionaire or whatever has made her priorities shift."

Billionaire. I think I almost choked on my coffee. "You can become a billionaire from being a PR agent?"

"You can't," he said. "But White did."

—————————

DOC

--nd now that we got that patched up, this is the part where you tell my why the fuck the police caught you anyway.

CONSTRUCTOR

Uhh... Dunno. Not sure how they found me.

DOC

Where did they track you down?

CONSTRUCTOR

Um... I'm not feeling up for this conversation right now.

HOBBES

It was that new square in York XIV that looks like a Whole Foods staged a violent invasion.

DOC

....okay, is there a reason you decided to be wandering alone around in an area with shit ton of white moms ready to call the police on your ass?

CONSTRUCTOR

....Yeah, I was alone because I thought everyone here would tell me not to go. (Sigh) Look, I'm not gonna–

CYBERSCOUT

(poking head in) The Whole Foods place? Oy, isn't that where that old chick you're stalking has a house?

CONSTRUCTOR

I'm not--I was delivering a letter.

HOBBES

....wait a minute, I remember this. "Sandy" right? Your mom? The one who turned you into the FBI?

CONSTRUCTOR

She's not my mom. (Pause) And no, she turned in my letter--which she would have to, if she was being monitored. I thought if I--

CYBERSCOUT

Wasn't she also a racist? Wasn't that a whole fight you had with Bonfire?

HOBBES

(Judgmental) You act all woke and then you go and try to be friends a racist who lives in the Whole Foods district.

CONSTRUCTOR

She's not a--That's not what the fight--this is why I went alone!

———————

This conversation afforded me with a lot of more information which I am saving for a piece on the lives of superhero PR agents, which I am now utterly fascinated by. Regarding Cassandra White, the other significant info it afforded me was that Cassandra White does in fact have a twitter account that I missed in my earlier search.

I looked into it. It's the most inoffensive twitter account I've ever seen. It feels like it was generated on a factory belt. There is a headshot of an older white woman--Cassandra White herself, it seems--as the profile pic. She tweets very rarely herself, and instead seems to mostly retweet news updates and positive platitudes or quotes from historical figures. The tweets she does make are all of an extremely inoffensive liberal variety, with the spiciest being one gentle snipe at the Republican party.

There is one other hint of her personality on this twitter. It’s an unexpected photo from inside her home, one with a quick caption that says she regularly uses a whiteboard to write out her resolutions and thoughts, and that she finds the process to clarify her goals and values.

It reads:

IT WILL BE DONE QUIETLY. IT WILL BE DONE CIVILLY. IT WILL BE DONE RIGHT–OR IT WON’T BE DONE AT ALL.

—————————

CONSTRUCTOR

Alright, alright. We can talk more about this tomorrow but for now tell them no more death matches and any blood feuds need to be put on hold when they enter this fortress.

HOBBES

(Grunts) Pussy move.

CONSTRUCTOR

I don't care if it's a pussy move.

CYBERSCOUT

Ahem--what if I made the point that you're being culturally insensitive by imposing your mainstream standards of civility on a subculture of people, villains, who have their own values in how they deal with conflict, and--

CONSTRUCTOR

I know you bet on the fights and you're not changing my mind.

CYBERSCOUT

No fun. (sigh) Lethe, I TOLD you not to snitch on me!

LETHE

I didn't!

CONSTRUCTOR

Anyway, we can figure out a more long term solution for dealing with serious vendettas but for now--I'm tired. I have something else I need to work on. Tell them not to kill each other.

HOBBES

What are you writing that's more important than a potential deathmatch, anyway?

CONSTRUCTOR

Nothing. Just-- (Shuffling of papers) leave me to it for tonight. I don't want to set a precedent where I rush over every time someone wants to kill someone else, because given the personalities here that would mean never having any time.

CYBERSCOUT

Fiiiiiiiine.

(Grumbling and footsteps as people shuffle out, followed by writing noises.)

LETHE

Hey.

CONSTRUCTOR

What? (Pause) You know what I'm doing.

LETHE

The last time you tried to deliver something….

CONSTRUCTOR

I'll send someone else to deliver it.

(More scribbling. Deep breath.)

LETHE

I lied. I read her mind. She doesn't care about you.

(Writing stops. After a slight pause, there is the sound of paper crinkling and Lethe gasps and steps back.)

LETHE

Don’t be mad at me!

CONSTRUCTOR

(Deep, strained breath) I’m not mad. You're just wrong.

LETHE

I could literally read her mind!

CONSTRUCTOR

Okay, you're not wrong. You're lying.

LETHE

What? I'm not!

CONSTRUCTOR

(Fuming) You think I'm an idiot just because I haven't been calling you out on it? Everyone here knows you lie about what your powers show you whenever it suits your purposes.

LETHE

(Wobbly) I--I don't have a reason to lie about this!

CONSTRUCTOR

You don't have a reason that I know. But you are such a fucking liar. No one in the fortress trusts a thing you say, and you know it.

LETHE

Th-that's not--That's not relevant! Oh my god, you're literally never going to even consider this, a-are you? That she was just using you for the cut of your paycheck, making her fortune...

CONSTRUCTOR

I'm not going to re-evaluate a decade long perception of a loved one based on the words of a known liar, Lethe. Get out.

LETHE

But--

(Rumbling, cracking of the floor.)

CONSTRUCTOR

I said get out!

———————————

The twitter account confirms she exists and nothing else. I couldn't tell you what the woman thinks about anything. On a website people use to blast their opinions to the world at all hours, this one seems specifically built to deny the existence of any individual opinions or personality.

I scrolled all the way back to the time period during which Constructor would have had the big public meltdown at the stadium. I used the wayback machine to see if there were any deleted tweets, just in case she said anything in a fit of frustration or grief and deleted it.

But during the time where she would have been watching Constructor's breakdown, a time when everyone in the world had something to say about what Constructor had done--nothing.

Cassandra White, Constructor's closest person, had nothing to say about them at all.

#constructor

104 notes · View notes