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cherrrydragon · 5 months ago

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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER FOUR: WAY DOWN WE GO

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SUMMARY ↳ You make some major moves, risky major moves. “Yeah, I know. You’re not that easy.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and grasp his, lifting them off your hips. “Just like I know you’re trying to put a tracker on me.” You wretch the little device from his hands and crush it. “I’m not that easy either.”You pat his cheek. His expression doesn’t give anything away, but you know he’s annoyed his plans have been thwarted. “It was a good try though. You did your best.” You send a web to a nearby building, knowing that his eyes are scanning you to drink up every piece of information he can. You turn to him one last time before swinging away. “I’m just better.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: (attempted) bullying, you get a sword held at your neck (wonder whose fault that is), cursing wc: 6.5k

The next school day goes by in a blur of lectures you don’t pay attention to. The only thing on your mind is patrol and the looming task of getting back home.

Lunch is a brief respite from the busyness of the day. You sit alone to better hear your thoughts. You’ve long gotten used to your super hearing, but it’s still as loud as ever. The lunch is pretty good today, yet no match for your increased metabolism. You’re just grateful that your suit protects you from a lot. Super healing isn’t that useful when you’ve got no energy to heal with.

Your pencil moves in repeated strokes, steady. You’ve been putting your sketchbook to good use.

You hear footsteps approaching, and raise your head casually. You can’t help but widen your eyes when you see Damian walking to you.

He puts his tray down and sits, perfect posture and all. His eyes scan your drawings. “What is it?”

You blink, looking down at your drawings too. “It’s a… personal project.” You give your best winning smile. “I like to make things.”

You subtly turn the page so the one with all the formulas and equations is hidden away, only allowing Damian to see the sketches of what your new and improved nanite chamber would look like. “You’re hurting my feelings. What can I do to gain your trust?” It’s no subtle attempt to direct his attention from your drawings.

“Unnecessary. Forget about yesterday, it is in the past,” Damian says. Yeah, right. It’s obvious he’s playing nice in an attempt to lower your guard, but whatever. You can play along.

You pat his shoulder, smiling at his grimace. “You’re really bad at making friends. Don’t worry about it, first impressions aren’t everything.”

You lean back, crossing your arms. “So, now that we’re friends, tell me about yourself.”

“We are not friends.”

“We’re not enemies either.”

“That does not equate to us being friends,” he growls.

“But don’t you wanna know about me?” You lean in close. “Y’know, ‘cause you’re–” Your voice drops into a whisper. “Robin?”

He shoves you away, somehow in a gentlemanly manner. “Do not joke about that.”

You cackle. “I will tell you something about me in exchange for something about you.” At his glare you say, “it’s the fair thing to do.”

“I’ll go first.” You sit up straight. “I work part-time at Carrie’s Cafe, I live in East End and I occasionally dabble in photography.” Where you work and live is something he no doubt knows already, and photography is a useless fact. Still, he can’t admit that.

You gesture at him. “Your turn.”

You’re pleasantly surprised when he speaks. “I enjoy spending time with animals. I have various pets.”

“What kind of pets?”

“The rules of our deal do not require me to elaborate further.”

You roll your eyes. “The rules of conversation do.”

“I hardly want to converse with you.” God, you forgot how much of a brat Damian is. It’s easier to find it funny when you’re not the subject of his brat-ness. He can tell you’re getting a bit irked, if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

You survey your surroundings. People are looking at the two of you. You figure you must be a sight. The elusive heir of Bruce Wayne and the new kid. There’s a group of girls staring at you spitefully.

“Aren’t we a pair,” you speak to Damian, not taking your eyes off the girls. “Me, awesome mysterious super hot new kid, and you.” You don’t gas up Damian, but you figure he’s better off without a bigger ego.

Damian looks to where you're staring, his lips turning in thinly veiled disgust. “We are not a pair.” The girls giggle behind their hands and flutter their eyelashes at him. He looks away. You gasp as you are hit with an idea.

“I just had the best idea ever.” Pointedly ignoring his hum of doubt, you continue, “we are in the perfect set-up for a fake-dating situation. You, the popular bad boy who wants nothing to do with girls, and me, the one person who will never fall in love with you. We agree to fake-date to get the girls off your back, but we end up falling in love and we kiss in the rain–” you pause, staring at his face. It’s full of disgust, and you burst out laughing. “I’m afraid you’re too easy, my friend.”

Your hearing picks up on stomping from across the cafeteria. The leader of the girl's little posse is making her way over to you. She’s real pretty, you’ll give her that. She’s forgone the vest of her uniform to show off her slightly unbuttoned top. You’re not ashamed to admit you are looking hard .

“Damian!” She squeals, rounding up to your table. She ignores the seats and sits on the table itself. “Are they bothering you? I can see that you’re uncomfortable.”

You lean back and cross your arms, waiting to see what Damian will do. You would’ve thought he would be more of a recluse, liked by nobody. Perhaps this older Damian has more charm than the ones you’ve read about. Or maybe only the girls of the school like him.

Damian sends you a look that says do not leave me to the vultures.

You raise your eyebrows as if to say not friends, remember? This has nothing to do with me.

“Victoria,” Damian greets. Victoria’s face lights up in satisfaction at the fact he knows her name. Oof, girl, have some standards. “I am fine. You need not concern yourself.”

“Oh, but I can see it on your face, Damian. You don’t have to save face for someone like them ,” Victoria looks you up and down. There’s no doubt she means to isolate you because you’re not a rich heir like the rest of them.

Damian’s about to speak up (in your defense? You doubt it) when you lean forward, discreetly pulling down your own collar. “Victoria, was it? Can I call you Vicky? Where’d you get your nails done?”

Victoria brings her hands to her chest, rubbing her fingers over her nails. “Oh– um. My… cousin. My cousin does nails as a hobby.” Her eyes are flickering from your face to your chest. You reach forward and grab her hand delicately, humming as you look at her nails. “These look really good. How much were they?”

Your eyes are boring into hers as you await her answer. Her mouth is slightly agape. Her hand twitches in your grasp as you let a breath fall onto it. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before she finds herself. “It-It surely costs more than you can afford.” She yanks her hand back and it falls to her side. She looks at Damian before looking back at you, and turns around and walks off without another word.

A grin graces your face, satisfied with your results. Looking at Damian, you raise your brow in question. “Well? How’d I do?”

Damian is staring at you, like he is truly seeing you for the first time. He blinks and shakes himself out of whatever revelry he’s in (you hope you haven’t given too much away…) and answers you. “It’s no easy feat repelling Victoria. I commend you.”

“Is that a compliment? Oh my God, have I thawed your frozen heart, Elsa?” The bell rings and he walks away before you can say more.

You find out Victoria's in your ballet class. You feel her eyes on you the whole period.

You practice figure drawing in art. You ignore Damian’s stare on you the whole period.

It’s a cool night in Gotham. You’ve defended some homeless people being harassed, helped someone's cat out of a tree (you didn’t know that could actually happen) and helped an old lady home safely. It’s a pretty quiet night for Gotham, all things considered. The city moves on in spite of you, a maze of crime and corruption, but also of people worth saving.

You can’t help yourself and snap a couple of photos, for your eyes only. Anything that’ll make you feel like back home is good in your books.

watching behind you

You stand, straightening your shoulders. You’re sure the Bats know about your existence. Whoever it is, you’ll give them a scare first.

You lift your foot, letting it dangle off the ledge of the building. Their footsteps hasten to get to you. Gravity pulls you down. They’re running to you now. You spread your arms and fall.

A figure clad in black and red grasps the ledge, looking over, grappling hook in hand. They’re met with you, casually standing on the side of the building, defying gravity. “Looking for me?”

Robin makes room for you as you climb back up, crouching on the ledge once more. You stick out your hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet one of you guys. Big fan.”

Robin takes out his sword and holds it to your neck in one swift movement. “Tough crowd,” you mutter, clicking your tongue.

“Who are you and what business do you have in Gotham.” Straight to the point as always, Damian.

“My name is Spinnerette, nice to meet you!” You grab his hand before he can tug it out of your reach, shaking it. “And I thought it was pretty obvious, no? I’m in the saving people business, like you guys! That’s my business.”

“Children should not run around pretending to fight crime because they think it’s cool.”\

You huff. “Okay, one , the first robin was like, five. Two , how old do you think I am? Three , dude, I’ve been doing this for years.”

He tuts. “Is that right? How come I’ve never heard of you?”

You shrug. “I’m not from around here.” You’re not lying, that’s for sure.

The sword doesn’t move from your neck, and you sigh. Grabbing the sword makes an audible clink as it meets the metal of your suit. You slowly move it away from your neck, taking note of how Robin tries to meet your strength head-on, and failing to do so. Languidly moving, you invade his personal space. You throw your arms over his shoulders, making him sway side to side with you.

“You’re hurting my feelings, Rob,” you hum. You see his eyes squint through his mask. Dragging a claw down his cheek, you’re aware that you are completely indulging yourself right now. You should’ve swung away as soon as your senses alerted you to his presence.

Pretender, your brain whispers to you.

You will the thought away. “You know, some species of spiders eat birds,” you flirt.

“You have abhorrent ideas of flirting.”

“Cut me some slack, I’m rusty.”

“Some species also eat their mates,” he flirts back. Oh?

You grin, feral and hidden. “Ohoh, considering yourself my mate already, birdie?” His hands grasp your hips, pulling you closer. Chest to chest with him, you lean in, whispering “you like the idea of me eating you? Perv.”

“You jump to conclusions.” His cheek is against yours.

“Yeah, I know. You’re not that easy.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and grasp his, lifting them off your hips. “Just like I know you’re trying to put a tracker on me.” You wretch the little device from his hands and crush it. “I’m not that easy either.”

You pat his cheek. His expression doesn’t give anything away, but you know he’s annoyed his plans have been thwarted. “It was a good try though. You did your best.”

You send a web to a nearby building, knowing that his eyes are scanning you to drink up every piece of information he can. You turn to him one last time before swinging away.

“I’m just better.”

“They call themselves Spinnerette,” is what Damian says as he enters the Batcave.

Bruce only sighs. He really shouldn’t be so surprised Damian went after the new meta. He turns around in his chair, facing Damian. He makes a ‘go on’ gesture.

“Their suit is made of some kind of metal. It is high-grade, something I’m not familiar with. The eyes of their suit react, like they mimic their expression. They can stick to walls and webs come out from a device on their wrist. They are intelligent and were able to divert my intentions to put a tracker on them,” Damian huffs.

He moves to stand next to his father. “They say they have been acting as a vigilante for years. They are also not native to Gotham.”

Bruce nods, “that narrows it down a little.”

“They were insulted by my insinuation that they were a child, so I assume they are at least in high school.”

Bruce types all the information in the Batcomputer, fingers flying across the keyboard. The results narrow down. Several databases appear on screen.

“If they are your age they could very well attend the Academy,” Bruce hums, hand over his mouth in thought.

“I have someone in mind already, but I will be sure to evaluate all my peers.”

Bruce smiles. “I’m surprised to hear you call them your peers.”

Damian’s lips twitch, walking out of the cave without further word.

You’ve decided to put plans for the nanite chamber on hold for now in exchange for a far, more efficient use of your time. The battery will last you, you’re just being paranoid.

You’re going to pull a Tony Stark and create a new element.

Technically you’re just going to use the blueprints Tony put in your suit (thank you tony, we all say in unison) and follow them, but in this universe badassium isn’t a thing.

A clean and powerful energy source, to power your way back home and for the world to use. You know what they say about leaving things better than when you found it.

You’ve changed your plans for one main reason; when Tony Stark made his new element, he also made a particle accelerator.

It starts in your engineering class. You swipe as much material as you can, stuffing it into your backpack. Tony’s makeshift build took up his whole lab, and the one you found that landed you here was huge, so you’ll grab as much as you can.

Next is finding a place to work. Your apartment is a no-go, so you spend time off patrol to look for places. An abandoned warehouse could work in theory, but how many times has a villain used one for their operations? You’ll go without bumping into the Joker, thank you.

The problem is that you don’t know this city, so you make an impulsive decision. During classes, you spend time building a mini robot that will infiltrate and access the Batcomputer. You know Wayne Manor is equipped with state-of-the-art security, from reinforced structures to advanced alarm systems. It is very likely your little buddy will not make it out, but Karen only needs enough time to upload to the computer.

You spend your programming class calibrating Karen into W.E.B.B.E.R. (Karen comes up with the acronym, it stands for Wireless Enabled Bionic Bot for Exploration and Reconnaissance) instead of doing the assignment. You can easily do it later. If Damian notices how in your mind you’ve been lately, he doesn’t say anything. WEBBER is finished in three days. Now it’s up to you to get it past Wayne Manor's defenses and into the batcave.

You sit pondering on a rooftop during patrol. Damian is a hesitant option. You’re are certain he’ll notice if you stick a little spider robot on him. Red Hood probably doesn’t visit very often, for obvious reasons. You might be able to sneak it past Nightwing, but there aren't many places on that skin-tight suit for WEB to hide. Orphan is a hard no, nothing gets past Cassandra Cain. You groan into your hands. WEB’s little feet pat your mask.

“Perhaps it would be easier to infiltrate myself,” Karen suggests.

“There’s no way to get into the cave without authorized access, and that's if WEB isn’t somehow destroyed as soon as it hits the property’s soil,” you sigh. “You could override its systems to get inside, but that’ll just put everyone on high alert.”

“Then perhaps we approach their civilian identities.” Karen pulls up security footage of a cafe that none other than Tim Drake likes to frequent. It’ll be risky, since Drake’s got a damn good keen eye. However, you’ll bank on the fact that that guy does not get as much sleep as he should, thus making him less aware.

“Thanks, K.” You hardly sleep that night.

You spend the weekend lingering at the mentioned cafe. After some hard thought, you’ve forgone a disguise. He’ll notice if you’re trying to hide your features, so you just have to hope and pray that you become another blurred face he sees.

“He’s walking your way, [Name].”

You take a deep breath as WEBBER crawls onto your shoulder. He’s wearing layers, so WEB will have an easier time staying hidden. The robot is light, you made sure. You walk towards him, keeping your gaze forward. If this doesn’t work, you’ll figure something out. You just… really hope it doesn’t come down to that.

As you get closer, you side-step out of his way and allow your shoulder to pass his, not touching, but almost. WEBBER hops onto him and scuttles into his breast pocket.

“I will make sure I am not seen.”

“I trust you, Karen.”

Tim Drake does not notice the little spider hidden in his clothes. He returns to Wayne Manor none the wiser. WEBBER clings to his back as he makes his way down to the Batcave. You watch through the little camera from your laptop. Your jaw drops.

Literally every Bat and Bird, former or current, is down there. Even Oracle herself is there. They’re all in civvies, so you suspect they’re just hanging out and chose the goddamn Batcave to do so.

“Just…” you sigh, already done with your spidey luck, “...keep going, K.”

WEBBER hops down from Tim’s back, scrambling across the floor. The mic you impulsively added picks up on conversation.

“I think you’re looking a little too hard into things, man.” It’s Duke Thomas.

“They just seem like the main character trying to find their way into the world. Rich dad sends his kid into adulthood all alone. They struggle to fit in under the guise that they have less money than their peers. ‘Woe is me’ type of stuff, y’know?” Stephanie Brown.

There’s a scoff. “They hold too much intelligence to have that kind of persona. They are able to direct less than welcome attention with careful words and persuasion. They do not pay attention in class, yet their grades are pristine. I’ve seen their drawings in their sketchbook when they are not looking, it’s filled with equations and ideas for ‘personal projects’.”

Is he talking about… you? That sneaky bastard, when did he peek at your notes!? Have you been that distracted at school?

“It says that their dad’s an inventor,” comes Barbara’s voice. She’s on the Batcomputer, WEBBER has been waiting for when she turns around or gets off to make its move. “They obviously get it from him, then. What, you think they’re building a world-ending weapon or something?”

“I think,” he grits out, “that they are a suspicious person, appearing at the same time our new spider friend did.”

Bruce hums. “It’s plausible.”

Goddammit.

Barbara turns around, and WEB scuttles around the back of the Batcomputer. “If they are Spinnerette, It’s not like they’re performing any unwelcome actions. They’re just doing what the rest of us do.”

“Yeah,” comes Dick Grayson, “Bruce is only irked ‘cause he hasn’t gotten the chance to adopt them yet.” A round of chuckles is heard.

WEBBER plugs into the Batcomputer, and an alert pops onto the screen immediately. Barbara whips around, fingers flying onto the keyboard.

“Someone’s hacking into the Batcomputer.” Her words put everyone in the room at attention.

“Trace it,” growls Bruce. It’s a remarkable thing to be able to switch into his Batman mode like that.

Barbara throws up countless defenses, but Karen is an AI made by Tony freakin’ Stark , and you are his protégé.

“They’re bypassing all my shields, they’re getting in!” Barbara growls.

Tim and Bruce race to begin helping her, but your superspeed allows you to type faster than all three geniuses.

They watch as files are opened and downloaded into Karen’s system as she uploads herself. Info about the city, criminals and heroes alike are getting into ‘enemy’ hands before they’re very eyes.

“I can’t track them,” grits Barbara.

The room is silent as Karen finishes her job. Gotham’s protectors are greeted with a single pop-up.

“THANK YOU.”

It taunts them. Bruce slams a hand onto the table. “They have everything .”

“Time to get the hell out of dodge, K.”

WEBBER unplugs from the Batcomputer and scuttles to a hiding spot.

“How is this possible? They were able to dodge and counter all of my firewalls like it was nothing. B, what do we do?” Barbara runs a hand through her hair, stressed. It seems like whenever she visits she can never catch a break.

“Keep trying to find their trace, we’ll find them eventually.” Bruce turns around to see his kiddos standing straight, ready for orders. He looks at Damian.

“Do you think they have the capacity to do this?” He’s talking about you.

“They have a computer programming class. I will observe them to see if it’s possible,” vows Damian. You’ll have to be more careful from now on.

“I’ll ask Selina to keep an eye on them. I owe her a favor.” A few faces twist in disgust at what exactly Selina could have done for him to owe her.

“Suit up, be extra vigilant today. They may try to enact whatever plans they have.”

Nodding, they scurry to change into their suits. WEBBER hitches a ride on Tim again as he exits the cave. The robot hops off as soon as he leaves the manor's grounds. That’s your cue to suit up.

You quickly hop across rooftops and swing to WEBBERs location. Arriving at its location, you cradle the bot gently in your hands, running a finger across its back. “Good job, Karen.”

“There are many old tunnels from previous subways, they may lead to your new lab. I’ve also left a backdoor should we ever need to access their database again.”

You nod, webbing a nearby building to swing away. The city passes under you, bright lights from cars blurring together. You perform flips and twirls, you’re in a pretty good mood, all things considered. People point at you in recognition as you rush by. The people of Gotham are becoming familiar with their new friendly neighborhood spider.

You hop down into the old tunnel. It’s covered in cobwebs and dust. Looking around, you see that the station has not seen life in ages. Footsteps echo as you start down the tracks. The station you’re in right now is accessible through a hole, so hopefully you can find one that is completely caved in.

You hope the team doesn't miss you too terribly. You wonder if you’re even being looked for, and then immediately shake the thought away. You are being looked for. You’re certain that Tony and Miguel are butting heads right now about how to best find you.

The tracks end with a bunch of rocks collapsed onto them. It takes minimal effort to move them out of the way, you just hope you don’t accidentally cause a mini rockslide, or something. You side step the pile, entering the large area of the abandoned station. The walls are littered with aged graffiti. The stairs that normally would lead out are collapsed in. There’s vegetation growing about, so you’ll probably get them something to drink in order to not invoke Poison Ivy’s wrath.

“I believe this will make quite the suitable hideout,” chimes Karen.

She’s right. With some decorating this could be a real cozy place. “A little Spider Den,” you whisper. Your new lab.

When you got home after finding the Den, you got rid of the monstrosity of cables from your gritty suit charger. If Selina Kyle is going to be poking around your apartment (because she’ll definitely do it while you’re gone) you want to appear as a normal person. You leave sketches of throwaway inventions, notes for class and random homework around the place.

May pipes up when she sees you leaving for work, “you look happy.”

You pause, thinking of your answer. “I… found what I was looking for.” It’s vague, but true.

“Since you’ve come here, you’ve always looked troubled,” hums May. “But lately you seem to be finding stable ground.”

You smile and nod, saying nothing as you walk out.

Sam greets you as you walk in. “How was your first week, scholar?”

You groan dramatically, “it’s terrible, save me oh great Sam,” you exaggerate. Sam opens their arms and you fall into them. “There, there,” they coo. “Was it that bad for real?”

“No.” Your voice is muffled in their arms. “I’m just really… bored.”

Sam bursts out laughing. “The little genius baby is stuck with their less than genius peers!” Sam’s voice has drawn out Carrie and Gar.

“Look who’s back! Thank God, kid. This place was falling apart without you,” Carrie says, grinning.

Gar crosses his arms. “Find your ‘rich future spouse’ yet?”

You chuckle, “not yet.”

The pair go off to get the cafe ready for opening, and you're still in Sam’s arms.

“I ever tell you about my own Sam back home?” You’re not sure why you’ve spoken up.

Sam raises a brow. “Don’t think so. You trying to share with the class now?”

Inside the dimly lit workshop at the Tower, you tinker away at Redwing as Sam stands over your shoulder.

“You’re hurting him.”

“He is fine, you big baby. I know what I’m doing.”

It amuses you how much Sam sees Redwing as a living thing. You’re told not to encourage it, but what’s the harm?

“The chip is just a little fried,” you say, angling so that Sam can see. “It’s an easy fix.”

Sam lays a hand on his chest, sighing in relief. “Thought we were gonna have to put him down.” You snort at his dramatics.

The workshop falls into silence as you tinker away. “What made you come up with Redwing?” you say, never one for quiet.

Sam’s face lights up. “I needed something that could give me an edge in the field without being too bulky. A mix of coolness and necessity, you know?” He pokes Redwings’ ‘nose’. “Plus, there’s that winning personality.”

“Personality, huh?” You think of Karen.

“Yeah, Redwings not a tool, he’s a partner.” There’s fondness in Sam’s voice. “He scouts, gathers intel, and watches my back.”

You hum in thought, realizing how similar Redwing and Karen are. “Sounds like the two of you are really close.”

“I like to think so.” The workshop is filled with chatter as the two of you work away the hours.

“Maybe another time,” you mutter, face squished into Sam’s chest. Sam drops the subject.

It’s another slow day at the cafe. You get that inkling that someone is watching you, but you see nobody. You wouldn’t be surprised if Damian is spying on you from the next building over. At least the cafe plays good music over the speakers. You hum the lyrics as you clean the countertops.

The door chimes as someone walks in “Welcome to Carrie’s, how can I help you?”

“Hey, you.”

You look up, meeting the very blue eyes of one Jonathan Kent. You can’t bring yourself to be annoyed. “Hey, you!” you echo, smiling.

Jon brightens up at your smile. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you hum. “I’m really good.” You are. Once night time hits, you’ll go to the Den and finally start on your plans to recreate Tony’s badassium.

“In fact, I feel so good that I’m gonna ask you this; wanna go hang out at my place after I get off?” One might say you’re indulging yourself. You say you’re trying to seems as un-suspicious to Jon as possible. When Damian finds out you have ties to him, he’ll ask Jon everything he knows about you, and possibly even ask him to survey you. Hopefully your front as a regular ole highschooler keeps him from figuring you out.

Jon blinks in surprise, stuttering, “w-well, sure. Yeah. Totally, why not? Just…” he pauses, “...I still don’t know your name.”

You smile. “Shoot, yeah. Sorry about that.” You straighten your posture, sticking out a hand. “I’m [Name]. [Name] Stark.”

You see the little twitch of his brow. Ah, so Damian has already told him about you.

“Nice to meet you, [Name]. I’m Jonathan Kent. Keep calling me Jon, though,” Jon says, shaking your hand.

You pull away. “So, a small vanilla latte for you, not-stranger?”

“You remember,” he chuckles. You nod. You feel his eyes on you as you make his drink.

“So,” you say as you hand him the cup. “I get off at five, see you then?” you feign shyness.

He nods rapidly. “See you at five.”

You count down the minutes until you get off from work. You swear you see some blue blurs rush by in the sky and wonder if it’s Superboy. Wonder if this Batman is more lenient to others operating in Gotham.

The sun has only just begun its descent into the Earth when you step outside. Your bag is thrown over your shoulder. You look around, Jon isn’t there. You doubt he’s the type to bail, so you lean against the front of the building. You busy yourself with some more Crossy Road to pass the time. Five minutes pass, when you sigh. Maybe you were too hasty.

“[Name]!”

You turn, seeing Jon running to you. His appearance is ruffled, his shirt is inside out and his hair is all over the place. He was definitely Superboying around.

“Did you run all the way here?” you offer as an explanation for his appearance.

He claims it. “Yeah, sorry. I got caught up in some stuff.”

You can’t help yourself, and reach up to tame some of his hair. “Looks like you ran through a high powered fan, or something.”

He mindlessly tilts his head to let you do as you please, looking at you. You don’t dare meet his gaze. “Ok,” you say when you’re satisfied with his hair. “Let’s go.”

He offers his arm and you take it. “I wouldn’t think a Gothamite would tell me where they live on our second meeting,” he says.

“They probably wouldn’t,” you hum. “I’m not originally from Gotham, though.”

He blinks. “You’re not? I thought you were.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” It means you’ve done a good job at fitting it. “But no, I’m actually from Queens. New York.”

He hums. “I thought the accent was a little different.”

May greets you as you walk in, widening her eyes when she sees Jon. You ignore her wiggling brows as the two of you make your way up. Entering your apartment, nothing looks out of place, but your trained eye can see the way your papers have shifted from their original position. So Selina Kyle did end up snooping while you were gone.

“This is me,” you say, arms gesturing to the apartment. Nari rounds the corner, meowing for your attention. “And this,” you lift Nari into your arms, “is Nari.”

Jon pets Nari between his ears. “Hi, Nari.”

You put Nari in his arms, ignoring his small protests. Nari looks very content in Jon’s big arms. You snap a picture for yourself.

“My friend is actually a big fan of animals,” hums Jon, looking down at Nari.

“Yeah?” He’s talking about Damian. “The one that goes to GA?”

He nods. “His name is Damian. Damian Wayne. Have you met him?” His eyes bear into yours, switching into that hero interrogation mode. You wonder just how much Damian has told him.

“Yeah, I got a couple of classes with him.” You sit down on your couch, leaning back. “He’s got a real unique persona.” Jon chuckles in agreement, sitting down next to you. “How’d you become friends with a guy like that?”

“Our dads know each other.” Right.

“Well, he’s pretty cute. That’s all I got to say about him,” you say, looking over and snorting at Jon’s expression. His eyes are widened, no doubt wondering if he should leave out the fact that you just said that when he relays the info to Damian later.

“Well, I got some popcorn and some movies on my laptop. You down?” Jon nods.

You spend a couple hours sitting and chatting as you watch a couple of horror movies. Jon acted brave, but you could tell he was just a tiny bit freaked out.

Now, you swing to your new hideout, now equipped with cute fairy lights and cobweb hammocks. It wasn’t hard to get power working in the place, just tedious. Seriously, the amount of rubble you had to clear was atrocious.

You pull up the blueprints on a digital interface via your suit. “Alright, Karen. Let’s get to work."

When Miguel got an alert that you had been requesting assistance, he straightened up immediately. He had been running regular people errands, so he had to quickly stop by the HQ to suit up and get ready. From there he found out you had also contacted Peni, he started rushing. The other Spiderlings had caught wind of this, and demanded to tag along. Miguel and the kids entered a portal to your universe, and were immediately met with the large, inactive particle accelerator.

He hears Miles take a deep breath. It’s just like the one from his universe. You’re nowhere to be seen.

Lyla pops up next to him. “There’s been recent activity here. It was activated two times.”

“Two?” Miguel mutters.

He doesn’t get to dwell on it much, when some of the goddamn Avengers come barreling in. Iron Man, The Hulk (it’s just Bruce Banner right now, though) and Black Widow stand at the ready, looking at Miguel and the gang in apprehension.

“Oh, you’re my kids' little spider friends, right?” Tony’s voice is dry, feigning friendliness as if he isn’t pointing at them, ready to blast.

“We got an alert signal from [Name]’s suit,” Bruce explains, ignoring Tony’s betrayed stare.

“So did we,” says Hobie, analyzing the three.

Lyla tuts. “I’m not picking up their watch's signal.”

“[Name]’s tracker went offline, too.”

Miguel’s eyes scan his surroundings, settling on a pile of broken pieces on the floor. Broken watch pieces. He hears Pav and Gwen gasp as he kneels by it. “It’s their watch,” he explains to the Avengers, “the thing that allows them to multiversal travel.”

“Why is it broken.” Black Widow doesn’t phrase it as a question.

“Because someone must have broken it,” concludes Miguel. He straightens. “The watches are strong, it wasn’t an accident. Someone was here, with [Name].”

“Well now there’s nobody here, and [Name] is off the radar so where are they? ” growls Tony.

“The only plausible answer is that they’re in another universe.” Miguel looks at the particle accelerator. “Without a watch.”

The kids look sick to their stomachs. “Can’t we trace the signal from the accelerator?” questions Peni.

“Normally, I could,” chimes Lyla. “But… I can’t.”

“ Why not?” Miles questions.

“Okay, so you know that there are literally infinite universes out there. If each universe is a satellite and the watches, or the accelerator in this case, is a signal, then there’s only a certain ‘distance’ I can trace [Name]’s whereabouts.”

Gwen thinks she’s getting a headache. “So, what? She’s in a universe that’s ‘too far away’?”

Lyla nods. “In that sense, yes.”

“This is pointless,” huffs Tony, walking up to Miguel. “We are wasting time talking about technicalities, we should be looking for my kid.”

“Is there anyone you know who could’ve built this?” Miguel asks Tony.

“Nobody smart enough has it out that bad for [Name]. Unless it was another me or another [Name] there’s no one capable of doing this without someone noticing,” Tony pauses, looking at the spider variants before him.

Tony’s voice drops into a whisper, “could someone from another universe have done this?”

“If someone from another universe ended up in this one, why throw [Name] into a random one?” Bruce stresses. “They wouldn’t have any strife with Spinnerette.”

“Unless it’s a spidey villain.”

“What spidey villain is smart enough to do this? Doc Ock?”

“Maybe–”

Miguel interrupts, “it was activated twice, so one time was for [Name] entering it, and the other was for whoever broke their watch. They built this–” Miguel gestures to the giant machine, “–so they were obviously here for a while.”

“Only a fool would attempt a multiversal jump without certainty that they could get back home, so that means–”

“–they accidentally got stuck here,” finishes Tony, looking graver by the minute.

“For who knows how long,” hums Hobie, now in thought.

“Trying to get back home, they build a particle accelerator–”

“–clearly their work is cut out for them, otherwise they would have come up with a much smaller design–”

“–they meet [Name], who would see this and automatically assume they’re a threat.”

“[Name] would try to shut it down, and our mystery guy gets desperate, because [Name]’s the one thing standing between them and their way back home.”

“The particle accelerator is already activated. They see the watch, recognize it as a multiversal travel tool and smash it–”

“–so that [Name] can’t find them–”

“–because they throw [Name] into another universe.”

“They go back home to their universe scott-free.” It doesn’t take a genius to figure how Black Widow’s unhappy with the development.

“In other news, I’ve got the trace of the other person who used the accelerator!” Lyla sings.

Miguel’s face scrunches. “If we don’t know which universe [Name] is in, I really doubt they do.”

“I’d still like a word with them,” Black Widow crosses her arms.

“Maybe later, right now–” Miguel turns to the Spiderlings. “–we should head back to HQ. We’ll send out an alert, every spider will look for [Name] when they can. We’ll search every universe if we have to.”

“Great, what do we do?” Tony asks, gesturing to his comrades.

“Miguel turns back to them. “You said [Name]’s got a tracker in the suit, right?” Tony nods. “We’ll need something that can latch onto its signal as soon as a Spider enters an Earth, no matter how far away they are. Can you build something like that? You can use tech from other universes if you need to.”

Tony nods, resolute. “You better get my kid back.”

Miguel nods. “We will.” A portal opens, swallowing Miguel and the Spiderlings.

“FRI, get the workshop ready and notify the others of the situation,” says Tony, turning around and making his way out of the warehouse. Nat and Bruce follow. “I want Strange and Wanda on this immediately.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Tony mutters under his breath, “I’ll get my damn kid back, alright.”

notes: if you're female-identifying ur def vicky's gay awakening LOL

i'm not entirely sure is "badassium" is the canon name for tony's new element, i actually think i saw somewhere that it was the name fans gave it. either way "badassium" is what we rockin' with.

i hope my explanation as to why reader hasn't been found isn't too confusing. i didn't plan on having it kind of explained so soon but a group up spideys (who are all basically genius cuz they're SPIDERMAN) are bound to figure it out. also like that whole 'the spiders and the avenger' meeting scene was supposed to be in the last chapter but i forgot to add it LOL

also chatgpt came up with webbers acronym guys i am NOT smart enough for that.

damian: good job getting into their base of operations (apartment) now we can gather more info on them

jon, who just wanted to spend time w/ reader: oh yeah lol light work

#damian wayne x reader #jon kent x reader #robin x reader #superboy x reader #dc x reader

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infinite--92 · 3 days ago

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The Unexpected Consequence

Unexpected Proposal

Sophie Reynolds had always been a driven young woman. At 21, she had finally left her small town of Portland, Oregon, and started her first semester at a prestigious university on the East Coast. Full of ambition and eager to explore new opportunities, she felt ready to embrace her new life and make the most of it. But Sophie could never have imagined how quickly things would take a turn.

One morning, while she was browsing job boards looking for a part-time job to supplement her student budget, she received an unexpected email. The sender was a representative from a pharmaceutical company called Genetech Pharma, a name she had never heard before. The message was straightforward and somewhat cryptic: they were looking for healthy volunteers for a week-long clinical trial of a new medical product. The reward for participation was an astounding $250,000.

Sophie’s heart skipped a beat. The amount of money seemed unreal, more than she could ever hope to save throughout her entire college career. And all it required was her participation for a week of injections—nothing invasive, just a series of small doses, the email said.

Still, she hesitated. What kind of medical product was this? And why would they be willing to pay so much for such a short trial? She decided to research the company, but to her surprise, there was barely any information about them online. The company’s website was minimal, listing only a generic mission statement about “revolutionising the future of human health.”

Despite her reservations, the idea of $250,000 was too enticing. It would mean she could cover all her student loans, pay for living expenses, and even set aside a significant amount for the future. It seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

She decided to meet with a representative from Genetech Pharma the following day. They scheduled an appointment at a sleek office building in the city. When she arrived, Sophie was greeted by a well-dressed woman named Dr. Miranda Hale, who explained the trial in more detail.

"It's a new hormone therapy we're testing," Dr. Hale said, her expression calm and confident. "The injections contain a formula designed to enhance cellular regeneration and metabolism. You’ll receive a small dose every morning for seven days. We’re excited to have someone young and healthy like you as part of this study. And, of course, you’ll be compensated generously for your time."

Sophie signed a contract, barely skimming the fine print. She was eager to start and already dreaming about how this money would change her life.

The Week of Injections

The first day was simple enough. Sophie arrived at the lab, rolled up her sleeve, and felt a small prick as the syringe slid into her arm. The liquid was a strange iridescent blue, but she didn’t ask questions. The scientists—always dressed in lab coats, their faces masked with expressions of clinical detachment—monitored her for an hour afterward before sending her home.

Each morning, she returned for another dose. The process was smooth and quick. She didn’t feel much different, perhaps a bit more energized, but nothing out of the ordinary. At the end of the week, Dr. Hale met with her, smiling warmly.

"You’ve been wonderful, Sophie," she said. "Here’s your compensation, as promised."

Sophie stared at the check for $250,000, her hands trembling. She thanked Dr. Hale profusely and left, unable to believe her luck.

The Unexpected Changes

The first day after the trial, Sophie felt fantastic. She had a burst of energy unlike any she felt before. She spent hours exploring the city, window-shopping, and imagining what she could do with her newfound wealth.

But on the second day, she woke up feeling unusually bloated. She brushed it off, blaming it on the large dinner she had the night before. She pulled on a pair of jeans, but they felt tighter than usual. Strange, she thought, but she had bigger things to worry about.

By the evening of the second day, the bloating had worsened. Sophie stood in front of her bathroom mirror, lifting her shirt. Her stomach was slightly swollen, protruding more than it ever had. It looked almost like a tiny baby bump, but she knew that was impossible. She had always been meticulous with her health, and there was no way she could be pregnant.

As the third day dawned, panic set in. Her belly had grown considerably overnight. It now looked as if she were several months pregnant. She tried to convince herself it was just a side effect of the injections, maybe water retention or some strange allergic reaction. But deep down, she felt something was very wrong.

By the end of the third day, her stomach had expanded to the size of a fully pregnant woman who was due any day. She could no longer fit into her clothes. Fear took hold of her as she frantically called Genetech Pharma. The line went dead after a few rings. She tried again, but no one answered. It was as if the company had vanished.

In a panic, Sophie rushed to the hospital. The doctors looked at her in shock as she explained what had happened. They immediately performed an ultrasound, but what they found left them baffled.

“There’s no baby,” the doctor said, eyes wide with confusion. “Your womb is empty. But the tissue and fluid build-up—it looks like... gestational growth, but there’s no fetus.”

Sophie’s mind raced. What had they injected her with? What was happening to her body?

The Aftermath

The next few days were a blur of hospital visits and tests. Sophie’s stomach remained large, as if she were nine months pregnant, but the swelling didn't increase further. The doctors could only guess at what had caused this bizarre reaction. When Sophie tried to contact Genetech Pharma again, the website was gone. The phone numbers were disconnected. It was as if the company had never existed.

Sophie was left with more questions than answers. She had the money, but at what cost? Her condition became a sensation in the local news, and soon, people all over were speculating about what had happened.

A few weeks later, Sophie received an anonymous letter in the mail. It contained a single line of text:

“You have been part of something revolutionary. The consequences will reveal themselves in time.”

Chills ran down her spine as she realised that whatever had been done to her, it wasn’t over. Her nightmare was just beginning. The money, which once seemed like a blessing, now felt like a curse.

#pregnant #pregnancy #preggo kink #preggophilia #big pregnant belly #huge pregnant belly #pregnancy fantasy #super preggo #plus size preggo #pregblr #preggo k!nk #preg k!nk #preg belly #preg rp

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skst8497 · 3 months ago

Video

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diminuel · 1 month ago

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Omg having to feed a baby Luffy was probably so exhausting! Poor Crocodile, I can picture him getting tried and stressed out thinking he can’t provide enough for his baby. Hormonal and crying thinking he’s the worst parent ever that he can’t even keep his baby fed. Thinking he’s starving his poor child.

Dragon having to swoop in and remind him that Luffy’s appetite is not like a normal average babie’s. And that he’s doing a great job even with Luffy’s needs. Reminding him that formula is always there and not to stress out too much.

With the appetite stuff, we of course have no clue about Dragon, but Garp is shown walking around eating snacks and stuff. So I would imagine he probably has a bigger appetite than average.

Maybe being raised by Garp, Dragon just has a better appreciation for food. But also I think the Ds in general all seem to love their food.

I can picture Crocodile having a bigger appetite, maybe his devil fruit gives him a faster metabolism like Luffy’s. I just think he’s better at hiding it. Gotta keep up the cool guy looks. So I’ll eat more often just more politely. And it makes me look unbothered and badass to eat in front of prisoners. Maybe he’s got a couple snacks in his pocket he takes around too lol.

Or there was no big influence and Luffy is just an anomaly.

But it’s just really funny picturing Luffy biting the fuck out of Dragon just to steal his last piece of meat, and Dragon actually considering fighting his son to steal it back.

Crocodile just watching it all go down with a very disapproving look, that causes everyone to snap out of it and go back to eating normally with a sad pout.

Yes yes!

Aww, poor Crocodile, don't beat yourself up over it. Dragon's right ;w;

Haha, Dragon nearly forgets that Luffy is his beloved son if he gets between him and his food. These men just lose all sense when meat is involved.

Crocodile's disapproving look is the only way to get them to behave.

#artificialflav #Diminuel replies

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lousycapy · 2 months ago

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The McLaren drivers dilemma

Alright, I wanted to explore the comparison between Lando and Oscar in term of where each of them is in their career to understand better how McLaren should manage them this year. This is gonna be a long post because I love deep dives so buckle up, and if you do wanna go through it I’d love to read your opinion on this matter.

So, let’s start this off by a simple graph representing someone’s hypothetical development in function of the time they’ve spent practising a certain activity. This relation works because the more time you spend working on something, the more time you have to develop it. Here is our control line :

This will be our control, the starting point is (0;0), since if you spent no time on something you don’t develop it at all, and our finish point is an imaginary limit, because you time is limited wether it is through death or in case of formula 1 racing retirement. Thus, your development will also reach an end-point.

Now when we look at Lando and Oscar, an important factor is that they don’t have the same amount of time spent in formula 1. Oscar is ˜2 years along and Lando is ˜6 years along. We can represent it on our graph like this :

If we were to consider development through time as a linear function, the comparison would end here and there wouldn’t be much of interest to it. However, the function ISN’T linear. When you start practising an activity you tend to learn more then because there are low-hanging fruits in comparison to when you have been practising for a long time, because you’ve already discovered the easy improvements and the next ones are more difficult to identify and could imply that you need to modify what you’ve already trained yourself to do. The function would probably be more of an exponential one like that:

You improve really fast at the start and then start trending towards a plateau, which represents the most that you can achieve before your time of development is up. Another important factor to note is that not everybody develops at the same rate, some will learn faster and some slower. Let’s consider the red curve our standard function, and the one which Lando has been following through his career to make the comparison easier. Here are 3 scenarios that could represent the situation when both drivers reach towards the same end point but with different development rates :

Depending on Oscar’s rate of development, we can observe that his gap to Lando varies from barely anything to quite noticeable. But no matter how fast he develops, in this situation Lando will always be further ahead and thus closer to the end-point. Where the comparison gets interesting is when we recognize that not everyone has the same end-point.

Despite all development being limited by a certain time-frame, the maximum development is naturally higher or lower from one person to another. Maybe one has sharper reflexes or a metabolism that produces important hormones when it comes to their focus more efficiently, the point is that naturally some will have advantages and disadvantages in comparison to others which cannot be diminished through practice of the activity.

And now the question is where do McLaren situate Oscar in comparison to Lando when it comes to his end-point. Because at this point in time it is pretty clear that Lando still has the edge, he usually pulls a tenth-ish over Oscar in qualifying and despite being beaten from time to time, he still generally has the better tire management. But does McLaren think Oscar has the yellow or purple curve of development?

The question is complicated, because you need to identify what is an upward trajectory and what is probably a plateau. When it comes to Lando, his weakness at race starts has been pretty consistent throughout his formula 1 career, and even in the junior series. Over such a long stretch of time, it can be assumed that he has reached a sort of plateau in that regard. This is not a dig at him or anything, just a fact. When you haven’t improved in a decade of practising, it probably indicates that you’ve trained yourself to do something a certain way and are incapable of teaching yourself to do it differently, or that you simply only have incremental gains left.

On the other hand, an upward trend can be observed when we look at Oscar’s tire management. At the start of the year, such as in Australia, Japan and China, the weakness was very obvious especially when in similar conditions to Lando. But the improvement has been noticeable, Spa especially has been clear since both were on two-stoppers and in dirty air, but he’s also been solid in Monza, Hungary and Silverstone. Looking at the tracks he has improved the most on the ones on which he has raced in junior categories, and lacks the most on the ones he hasn’t. Thus we can assume that the more experience he gains on tracks he is relatively unfamiliar with, the more his tire management will improve there.

McLaren’s problem is that at this moment in time, they need to create a hierarchy between their drivers to give them the best chance to clinch a driver’s championship. However, the situation is different from the Max/Checo one, because when Checo came in both were experienced drivers with a few years under their belt, the potential gains to be made were marginal and thus it was easier to determine a first and second driver assuming they were reaching their plateau.

For McLaren, Lando is a relatively experienced driver with a few year under his belt, so a known quantity with an approximate development curve established. But Oscar is a developing driver, we haven’t seen enough of him yet to determine what his development curve should look like. You can’t assume someone’s development rate when they haven’t raced more than once or twice on a given circuit in their career, I’d say once you have 5 data sets it is reasonable to establish what the curve looks like (because you can’t make a curve with two dots, it could be as much of a linear function as an exponential one).

The issue is that they don’t know what to think of Oscar yet. To name him as second driver would be clipping his wings, and you don’t want that. You want your developing drivers to learn and explore, to discover those low-hanging fruits and to improve as fast as they can. By pushing a role onto them you risk stopping this development to the limits you impose. However, right now Lando is in a potential championship fight, and he’d need a second driver to support him throughout the next few gps in order to maximize his chances of winning.

The question is, do they bet on Lando’s chances as of now at the extent of limiting Oscar’s growth, or do they gamble on Oscar’s potential at the extent of reducing Lando’s chances? How long do they want to keep them on the team, would it be better long-term to let Oscar develop into a complete racing driver but to sacrifice some of Lando’s faith in the team, or to alienate Oscar so soon in his career to guarantee Lando’s loyalty? Are they supposed to be teammates for the next decade, or only for the next year? How would forcing Oscar into a second driver role affect his relation to Lando and how the team views him, would they start naturally giving Lando the better strategies at the expense of expressing his full talent? Would keeping them on an equal standing annoy Lando and sour his relation with the team, would he get impatient and jump ship in order to get the first driver status he would deserve if both him and Oscar were at the same point on the time axis? Do they believe they’ll still be competitive in the next few years and thus can afford to sacrifice the 2024 Lando driver’s championship shout, or is this a once in a lifetime opportunity and it is worth confining Oscar to a limiting role in order to get Lando’s championship?

So many factors, so many variables, the McLaren lineup is certainly an interesting pair. It must be headache-inducing to decide how to deal with them, because of these different points in their career they both are at. The dilemma of whether a hierarchy should be established between the drivers is a complex thing, but I’ll still offer my conclusion here.

I’d say considering the drivers are signed until 2026 a minima each, and that they both have similar preferences when it comes to the direction of development of the car (we’ve seen with Lando and Daniel for example, who both have very different preferences, that having to compromise will always leave a driver performing worse than what he is capable of), that it is in McLaren’s best interest to maintain this lineup.

The best course of action in my opinion would be to not establish a first and second driver, because Oscar does noticeably better on tracks he is familiar with. Tracks he is not familiar with are coming up, so that means he should naturally be lacking a bit more there than Lando. Thus, he should naturally fall into a role of rear gunner, without McLaren having to confirm he is their second driver. This way, Oscar doesn’t feel alienated and limited to a second driver role pushed onto him, and Lando still gets the best chance for the driver’s championship. The only downside would be that McLaren don’t acknowledge publicly that Lando is the number one driver, and thus Lando could feel annoyed to publicly be put on the same footing as his less experienced teammate when he has more of a chance at a championship. However, if the team intends on keeping this lineup long term, this feels like the best solution in my mind, as long as the assumption that Oscar will perform at a lower level in unfamiliar tracks is correct.

That’s my piece on the matter, feel free to tell me if you don’t agree with anything I said because I’d love to see different perspectives which are not straight bashing of drivers because GOD I’m tired of seeing underdeveloped takes on the situation at McLaren.

#mclaren #f1 #lando norris #oscar piastri

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profitpulse36 · 9 months ago

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sargeantposting · 8 months ago

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A little earlier in the F2 season, we caught up with Williams Racing Academy Driver Logan Sargeant.

Wanting to get to know him just a little bit better, and with a big date in Austin now on the horizon, we tasked him with answering 22 questions about racing and life in general.

Here’s what he had to say…

What race day rituals do you have?

If weekends are going well, I tend to stick with the same underwear for each day. Before you worry, they’re different pairs! I have a Friday, Saturday, Sunday set. But if it’s not going well, I have to make a change!

What's your go-to coffee order?

Latte, but it's a double espresso before quali.

What's the inspiration behind your racing number?

This year it’s six because I can’t choose in F2, but when I am allowed to pick, it would be No3. Three for Dale Earnhardt, an all-out American hero.

Your favourite drink?

I’ve only just turned 21… but it’s water, of course.

If you had to cook one main course to impress a loved one, what would it be?

Oooo… I’m not much of a cook, but I can tell you what I would order in! I love a good prime rib.

What’s your favourite film?

Love the Jump Streets, but I’ve got a lot of time for Step Brothers. But if I had to choose out of the two, I’d go Jump Streets. I suppose I have to choose which one?! But 21 and 22 are both pretty good. Ah, I can’t decide.

Who is the toughest rival you've come up against so far?

It’s got to be the battle in Formula 3 between myself and Oscar Piastri.

Your favourite cheat meal?

Fortunately I have a quick metabolism, so they come relatively often… my American roots mean it would have to be a nice, juicy burger.

How many attempts did it take to pass your driving test?

Just one, which is apparently pretty rare for racing drivers! That’s including the practical and the theory.

Which track are you most looking forward to in 2022?

It’s got to be Monaco, but I’m looking forward to seeing the F1 team in Miami.

You can choose one song only to listen to before a race, what is it?

Lose Yourself - Eminem.

Is there one circuit not on your calendar that you'd love to race at?

Obviously it’s either Miami or Austin; to have a home race would be amazing. That said, I’d love to race at Suzuka some day.

Who is your favourite sports team outside of F1?

Anything Miami! We’re talking Heat, Dolphins, Marlins, Inter Miami… they’ve all got my support.

Least favourite exercise your trainer set for you in the offseason?

I’d say it’s got to be all the extra cardio I had to do to get ready for F2.

What's a better feeling, nailing a quali lap or executing a late overtake?

I saw what Nicky and Alex said to this answer and I have to agree. Nailing a quali lap all day long. It’s my favourite part of a weekend, I love putting it all on the line.

Is there anyone you idolised when growing up?

In racing, my first hero when I was a kid was, funnily enough, Jeff Gordon. I just loved watching him and the way he fought on track.

Favourite sport that's not F1?

At the moment, I’d have to say NFL. But it switches between that and the NBA.

If you could invite anyone in the world to a dinner party, which three people would you choose and why?

I would invite Leo DiCaprio, I feel he’s kind of cool. Then let’s also invite Margot Robbie and Brad Pitt. Let’s make it an A-List movie night!

What is your favourite Grand Prix?

Well, I could be biased and say Austin. I mean, how can you argue against 450,000 fans across the three days last year? That was pretty awesome. But I’ve got to say I love Silverstone as well.

What's been your favourite moment of your career so far?

My rookie race in Macau where I finished third. Definitely, 100%, hands down my favourite track in the world.

One word to describe how you're feeling about the 2022 season?

Confident.

One word that best describes Williams Racing to you?

Supportive.

#logan sargeant #format:clips #year:2022

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haravath0t · 1 year ago

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Beautiful Stranger

(college au!alhaitham x f!reader - inspired by laufey’s “beautiful stranger”)

Alhaitham would be the type of man to double major. As a man that loves to see connectivity from the very root of things, he’d definitely be a History/Linguistics Major.

He’s definitely the type of man to just show up to classes and leave the minute the system says it should end. A lecture ends at 10:50 AM? He’ll be out the door the minute he sees his watch change numbers. If he finds his professor to be terrible on “rate my professor”? He’ll simply come on syllabus day and test days.

The man is busy! He surely would find a way to sustain himself. He’ll probably start off as a tutor in the student center to teach students within his majors. If there’s empty days, he’d surely be the type to simply catch up on his work.

His phone would be on “Do Not Disturb '' 90% of the time. The remaining 10% is due to an argument his roommate Kaveh strikes about not seeing emergency notifications. Not that taking off the mode would make a difference anyways. The only people actively contacting him are Kaveh or other classmates from pre-requisite classes like Tighnari or Cyno.

He practically graduates with perfect grades and a stellar GPA from undergrad. It’s almost astonishing how a man that’s rarely around manages to be graduating with Summa Cum Laude honors.

By the time he joins a master’s program, he’s seeming to be set on what he wants to do now. He doesn’t seem to enjoy tutoring all too much, so professor is out of the question. However, the idea of conservation and working on archives catches his interest. Preferably, a library preservation technician. Yes, a job with minimal communication, yet a close up look at documents that he has either studied or not? It seems almost ideal!

He has already found a path to graduating with a masters degree too, already having planned out how to tackle writing his thesis with ease unlike his peers. However, there’s been a string of inconveniences he’s been experiencing lately in his own place: Kaveh. Kaveh has been hammering away at making his own architectural models. While Alhaitham didn’t really see this as a dealbreaker of living conditions, he won’t deny how his precious sleep gets lost, even if his soundproof earpieces are on his ears.

Two weeks and no improvement, he decides to go against his usual decision making and decides to make a late night stop to the library of the university. He finds it to be easy enough; he lives quite near it, and certainly no one would be there. It’s almost perfect. He finds the floor with the study rooms, finding a desk with the outlets and sitting on it with what he considers a content look on his face. However, it’s when he takes a quick look around that he realizes that he’s not the only one. There’s you.

Now, you were definitely quite the sight. You were in the study room across his, the clear plexiglass separating you both. You two were technically facing each other, yet the laptops you two were typing away at were enough to cover most of what you two were doing. He saw you with a comfortable appearance of a sweatshirt and some sweats, your position on your chair quite comfortable as you hacked away at your own work. The only time he managed to fixate on your workspace was when he was deciding to stretch his arms. He took in all the formulas on your papers, all the charts and plots you’ve made, and the handwritten notes with long words and arrows between them. He saw the word “metabolic pathways” and deduced that you were a science major at the very least.

“Alright. Cool. Back to work.” He told himself. And he was working quite well. However, he wouldn’t lie, he found the way you studied to be quite amusing. He’s passed by a good amount of students in the library when he was tutoring. Some people were quiet and worked away, some people probably brought in food, some people even cried and slammed their laptops shut. However, you seemed to be in your own little world. You had your tablet being your own main source of brainstorming, you had your papers scattered by chapters, and you had brought some food for yourself and…coffee?

The sight of the huge cup slowly being drained by your constant sipping almost made him want to chuckle. Almost. His long fingers stayed idle as he watched you quietly mouthing the words to whatever song you had in your headphones, your head bopping along with the tune.

“Hmph.” He’d grunt, going back to his work. The next time he’d look up at you is when you went to tap him on the shoulder. “Excuse me?” A voice asks, making him take off an earpiece and look back. Sure enough, it’s “science lady”, as he has dubbed you. “Yes?” He asked. He wanted to look amiable enough for you to talk to him, but you saw his plain look on his face. He almost looked…unamused. You suddenly felt so embarrassed to disturb him at this ungodly hour. “Do you mind watching my stuff? I’m going to be using the bathroom.”

The question made him scoff before he realized: Why would he need to watch over it? Everyone looked like they’d be doing nothing of the sort, but still, seeing the look on your face made him realize it was an earnest question. And so, he decides to agree. Seeing your face brighten accompanied with an earnest thanks almost made him want to smile. Almost. He saw the way you briskly walked to the bathroom, which only amused him more.

The coffee only gets to you after how much you’ve been drinking it. Though, you couldn’t get over how cute this guy looked! Did he look kinda scary? Yeah, but you couldn’t deny that he looked quite cute. Though, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because you were cooped in your research lab so much that you found anything amusing nowadays, including this mystery guy. Still, he had interesting eyes, you had to admit it. You liked his shaggy silver hair, the way he casually came in and seemed so fixated on his work. What a shame it might be a one time thing. Oh, how did this library crush become part of your thoughts so quickly while you washed your hands.

You thank him as you return to your seat with a little thumbs up, and he only sends you a little smile back. You would be lying if you said that the little curve at the edge of his lip made you wanna squeal. What you didn’t see was that his green eyes were staring at you as you sat down, waiting for you to see a particular item. And you saw it, alright. He can tell just by the raise of your brows and your wide eyes. It was right on your keyboard of the laptop, a paper torn out of the corner of his notebook. His penmanship was quite remarkable, and the contents of it amused you: “Maybe a little water would be more efficient than that coffee you’re chugging, no?”

Alhaitham practically was curious to see how you’d react. He could only gauge your reaction from your eyes, seeing your hand reach for a piece of paper before your head disappears behind the screen. He didn’t know what you were thinking either when you passed back a paper to him. It was a blank page which only contained your handwriting: “My water bottle actually spilled on my way here.” Next to it was a little sad face next to it.

Now, Alhaitham wasn’t prepared for that type of wholesome response. In fact, he’s surprised that it went as well as it did. He saw you practically scurry back to your studying table with a tiny smile on your face, your eyes back to focusing on work. However, it did not go without you making a little scene of taking yet another sip of your coffee from your large cup. It didn’t occur to him till you gave him a tiny smile that he was stealing glances your way a little too much. He was long done with his workload for the night, yet something bolted him to his seat. There was something that kept him in this crowd of procrastinating students.

Though, it’s clear that you were trying to be diligent despite your antics. He couldn’t deny that he found the way your lips pout as you concentrated on an endearing sight, or that you were the one he’s been oddly eyeing in this busy space. He was a bit let down seeing that you wouldn’t be looking his way for a while. You didn’t look at anything but your work until a push of a chair is heard, the tall man is seen making his way out. Your eyes carefully watch him with some sort of melancholy stirring in your heart, wishing he stayed longer, or that he wrote even just one more note to you.

Little did you know that as Alhaitham kicks off his shoes at his house’s foyer, he’s left thinking of a particular science girl chugging on coffee, clinging onto the post-it with a particular someone’s scribbles and sad face. Little did you know that the man was thinking of an excuse to visit the library tomorrow night, wondering if you’d be there.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x f!reader #Alhaitham fluff #alhaitham 🌱#alhaitham #Alhaitham fanfic

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