#moments through our lens

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[prolibytherium]

Absolutely death gripped clenched trying not to comment on reductive posts on ancient greek homosexual relationships

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '23 ⸺ 「 21 / 31 * IMPROVEMENT 」

July 24, 1969

I have been beside myself with excitement over the broadcast of the moon landing and found myself glued to my television set those few days ago, eagerly watching every moment of the footage. I imagine the rest of America has been doing the same. This is a historic, unprecedented moment in human history and I have been anticipating this day ever since President Kennedy's announcement of a national goal back in '61.

That Armstrong should reference Jules Verne's From the Earth to the Moon made me inexplicably happy; at least the scientists and astronauts at NASA are well-read. To think that even a hundred years later, his works would still be relevant and inspiring!

Ever since the Soviet Union's launching of Sputnik back in '57, it was clear that we as a species were entering a new global age of scientific discovery and advancement. The final frontier posed the greatest challenge of all, the unknown, and the desire to understand it, in addition to the recognition and glory such a feat would undoubtedly bestow upon the first to achieve placing a man on the moon, would lead to breakthroughs in the sciences that were previously unthinkable.

From Gagarin's monumental spaceflight around the earth to a man on the moon in only eight short years...

Despite the mounting tensions between the two countries over the years, it was the drive that pushed us well beyond our boundaries, and such scientific advancements would only aid me in my endeavours. I have enjoyed reading the news that has been available to the scientific community, and I was perhaps more fortunate than most.

There is still much work to be done on the time machine, as I have yet to find a suitable automobile to build the circuitry into. There may be some inspiration I can draw from the Apollo 11 mission and the brave men who have pioneered this new age for the world to make further improvements in my own mission.

As my previous attempts with other cars have been less than ideal, I will have to either redouble my efforts into improving these cars or search for a suitable alternative.

There is no time to waste.

[valtsv]

any and all "fandom drama" that isn't actually interpersonal ideological conflict filtered through the lens of guy from shows is completely unserious if you take even a moment to zoom out. like we are straight up playing with our toys WHAT is there to get mad about.

[strikersin]

Dreams. Dreams. DREAMS!

The one where I'm watching a movie at Luther's house and she is dressed in almost Russian attire - Fancy, cold, and so beautiful. And we're in bed and I'm explaining my excitement over the Pathologic movie and later we have to deal with zombies but whatever.

And I'm playing with children's toys there. Everyone is so young.

Real life when we were read The Last Unicorn or something, something, at the cafeteria table. The book where the protagonist is taught how to keep her thoughts locked up tight like a box.

Ugh.

[foldingfittedsheets]

Here’s a story about the time I almost lost my virginity. This is of course a social construct and by a broader understanding had already been lost years earlier at a sleepover with my best friend. But I digress.

I was dating a boy in high school. I shall call him Drama Boy. DB was big into theater, he made home movies and did stage performances at his high school.

Now. I must make this notation here, because the ending to this story will be savage otherwise, but DB put entirely too much of his mental well-being on my shoulders. He was often depressed and it was my job to constantly be helping him to regulate that.

The night our story took place we had been dating for eight months. During those months had been a ludicrous amount of making out and groping, even one lusty fumble that almost ended in penetration I vetoed on the grounds of not having a condom. It’s worth noting the first time we made out I felt physically sick to my stomach but I assumed that was normal.

But our parents didn’t give us much opportunity to really do anything like we imagined real sex to be. Until he came over for a movie night and my parents left on a date.

Scandalous, some might say, of my parents to leave us unchaperoned. But my parents were very blasé about sexual topics. They knew I was well educated and careful. Their leaving was possibly a gift of privacy rather than carelessness.

So when DB arrived for our movie night, we both knew This Was The Night. The night we’d lose our virginity.

We were both nervous and excited. The weight of societal pressure blanketed both of us, convincing us that this was the most momentous night of sex either of us could ever have.

DB chose a wretched movie. We sat through the first part dutifully before we started making out sloppy style. As I’d said previously, we’d done plenty of making out and hand stuff. Which is why I noticed that DB did not seem to be as… rigid as he had on other occasions.

A kinder more mature lens has softened my perspective. He was so nervous. But at the time I was a bit offended that I wasn’t arousing enough to have him standing at full mast. Still, we forged ahead.

I sat patiently while he tried to unhook my bra, boredly watching the terrible movie in the background as he soldiered manfully toward defeating the two clasps containing the bounty of my bosom while insisting he didn’t need my help. It took about five minutes.

That out of the way we made out some more. Then DB pulled out his pièce de résistance. A condom. This was a big get for him. His family, unlike mine, were horribly conservative and of the opinion that marriage was worth waiting for. So his opportunity to secure this vital piece of equipment had been slim.

In fact, it had been so slim, that what he pulled out was an:

Unlubricated

Glow in the dark

Novelty condom

From a vending machine

At the bowling alley.

I wasn’t terribly enthused about any of those qualifiers, but I held my tongue.

Then came the worst part. DB couldn’t admit that the stress of performance had unmanned him. He continued to pretend his wobbly erection could facilitate the rigorous activity of putting on a condom. He attempted to force the dry clinging rubber down his dick as it softened like pudding under his fumbling hands.

I butted in and made with more kissing, certain that seeing me naked had been such a let down that he was going limp because of me. Surely the sight of my boobies should have been enough! Because they weren’t, I was convinced he wasn’t really into this deflowering at all.

It didn’t help that my enthusiasm for this activity was fueled purely by teen hormones rather than actual sexual attraction. Perhaps he felt the same. It was one thing to watch his penis with clinical curiosity but another to think that my young boobs didn’t excite the same lust I felt toward boobs.

Nevertheless. The condom was more or less on. With momentous energy he tried to jam our anatomy together and rolled a critical failure. His penis lost all rigidity and oozed away from insertion.

Panicking and embarrassed he exclaimed, “I think I put this on wrong!”

To my horror he began trying to remove the condom and put it back on the other way. Health instructors of ages past screamed in my head that the condom had now been stretched and unrolled.

Trying to jam it back on was certainly not safe, especially given the slackness of the anatomy in question. It would certainly tear- if he could even get it back on.

I broke out in a sweat watching him attempt the magic trick of convincing a flaccid penis that it really wanted to get better acquainted with a desiccated rubber tube prison.

“I just remembered!” I exclaimed.

He looked up at me, wretched with despair.

“I promised my parents I wouldn’t have sex tonight. I just remembered! Sorry!”

This could go down in history as one of the most bold faced and terrible lies ever told, a blatant falsehood on par with declaring the sky was green. But his face broke out in a terrible relief.

He disposed of the abused condom and I resecured my bra and we resumed watching the horrible movie, both of us relieved in our own way to set down the burden of Losing Virginity.

The next day I broke up with him.

This remains to this day one of the most savage things I’ve ever done, breaking up with someone the night after impotence.

But remember, dear reader! It wasn’t just the sex! His depression had already worn away my patience and our communication. The foibles of the night before had just illuminated the gaps where we couldn’t talk to each other properly. I was constantly comforting him over something, shoring up his brain chemistry with my relentless positivity.

I’d like to say that’s all it was, and look more charitably on my young self. But truthfully my tender pride had also been badly stung that I wasn’t worth rising to the occasion for. Comforting him over this latest mishap when my feelings were hurt was more than I could swallow.

DB took the breakup very poorly. About two weeks later he lost his virginity with the new girl he was dating. He called me to brag, sniffing through the airwaves for hints that he’d hurt me back.

When I congratulated him with utter sincerity and not a whiff of jealousy he was furious.

We stopped speaking for years, except on our mutual birthday when we’d wish each other a cordial “Happy birthday.”

He messaged me out of the blue one day years later to catch up. He was working in food service now. Was it true I was a lesbian? Yes, I assured him, that was true. He thought that was pretty cool.

Then he told me about this bisexual girl he worked with who was interested in a threesome. Did I want to have a threesome with him and his bisexual coworker?

The audacity. I couldn’t believe it. My mind filled with savage retorts like, if you understand I’m a lesbian why do you think I’d want you to be part of that? Why wouldn’t I just sleep with her without you?

But I remembered the utterly ruthless way I’d dumped him and as penance I swallowed all of the things I wanted to say and instead politely told him I was seeing someone, but thanks for the offer.

And that was it. He’d managed to shoot his shot not once, not twice, but three times, and never managed a home run. He struck out that last time, and we never spoke again.

[robsheridan]

Hard to believe Nine Inch Nails' classic The Downward Spiral is 30 years old today! Here is some detail photography I took of the original album cover painting by Russell Mills for the 10th anniversary deluxe edition release, which I had the unique honor of designing, and somehow that is now 20 year old.

Everyone has that one album that hit at just the right moment of adolescence to change their perspective on music and get them through their teenage angst. The Downward Spiral was that album for me, released as it was in 1994, when I was a freshman in high school (and an absolute banner year for music/films/games all around). I must have stared at the artwork for hours over those years, without even much detail to draw from on its tiny 5” CD slip case. So five years later, when I found myself inexplicably working for Nine Inch Nails, it was surreal to see the actual original painting in the flesh, hanging as it was at the time in Trent Reznor’s office at Nothing Studios, New Orleans.

I was struck by how much dimension and texture there was in the artwork that never translated on that tiny slipcase printing, how much detail was happening in the physical materials of the art: Flies, moths, wires, blood… I had been staring at this “painting” for so long, yet suddenly it was like I had never seen it before. I also noticed that it had aged - the wires had wilted over the years, drooping down from their original position as captured in the original album cover (interestingly, judging by the photo posted today by NIN, the piece has since been restored); a tooth was missing from the other main piece.

That experience stuck with me and it was the first thing I thought about when the task of re-imagining the album package fell upon me in 2004. I wanted to re-photograph the artwork, subtly updating the cover to show that ten years had changed it physically, much like our perceptions of art and music and memories change over time with perspective. I also wanted to dig into the previously unseen details of the work and explore it with my macro lens, so that fans like me, old and new, could have new layers of texture to pore over for hours while listening to a legendary album.

Happy birthday, old friend.

[timebender25]

We have such a hard time getting invested in villain's who'd motivation is some variation of "There is only evil in the world", specifically the kind who are serious about it. It's been used a lot in shows and stories and over exposure isn't helping it, yeah. But it's more than that.

It's hard to give a shit about a villain who thinks that because like. My Guy You Are Of The World. Even if you do not believe yourself to be righteous, even if you know what you are doing in villainous and wrong, do the protagonists who stand in opposition to you, who fight you at each step of your grand evil plan, not prove that there is good in the world? Simply by existing?? The heroes who will face death, and destruction, and all manner of Gods, to save the world from you???

Either the villain believes themselves justified, that they are the Good in the world, or the heroes show that there is Good in the world through their sheer existence. Either way, it's almost never anything but a self-defeating ideology for like 90% of stories. And it makes it hard to get invested in many of them.

[greengoblinswifey]

Could you possibly do a Nicholas Chavez smut that involves recording you guys doing it thank you smsm much love

warnings— praise kink, oral(m&f receiving), degrading kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, ass slapping, creampie, breeding kink.

hope you enjoy, like and reblog <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

You could hear the water running as you picked up the small digital camera, a mischievous idea forming in your mind. Slipping quietly into the bathroom, you saw Nicholas through the fogged glass, water cascading down his skin. He looked sexy, his body warm and slick from the shower, unaware of your presence until he caught sight of you and the camera in your hand.

Raising an eyebrow, he smirked. “What are you up to?”

You pressed ‘record,’ angling the camera at him as he finished rinsing off. “I thought maybe we'd make memories,” you teased, watching his expression shift from surprise to intrigue.

He stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel, and you kept the camera on him, following every movement as he ran the towel over his damp skin. “So, we’re making amateur porn now?” he joked, grinning.

You shrugged playfully. “Maybe. I mean, we never watch porn, why not make our own?”

He chuckled, a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I like that idea. Always thought it’d be something to look back on, our little moments.”

“Then you’re on board?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up as you recorded his soft, yet intensely curious gaze.

“Absolutely,” he replied, stepping closer. “Let’s capture every second.”

Once you were in the bedroom, you aimed the camera toward him, focusing on every detail—the hard lines of his abs, the toned muscles in his arms, the way his skin caught the low light. You couldn’t hold back a smile. “God, you’re so hot,” you murmured, letting the words slip out without a second thought. His face lit up with a grin, one that was both flattered and a bit cocky.

Nicholas took a few steps closer, closing the distance between you, and gently took the camera from your hands. “Here,” he said, setting it on the TV stand so it angled perfectly toward the bed. “Now we’ll have the best view of you.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words, but he just leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. The two of you fell back onto the bed, bodies pressed close. His hands found their way to your hips, and your gaze drifted toward the camera, noticing the small red light recording. He smirked, catching where you were looking.

“Bet you look hot on there,” he whispered, his voice low. Then he pulled back, a spark in his eyes. “Actually, I have an idea.”

Curious, you tilted your head as he went to grab the camera again. He handed it to you, guiding your hand until you were holding it just above you. His gaze held a mischievous glint as he settled himself between your legs, giving you a reassuring squeeze on your thigh.

“Hold it steady,” he said, his voice warm with a hint of a challenge. His eyes flickered between you and the lens. “Want you to see just how good you look.”

You could barely focus on holding the camera as his mouth attached to your clit, his movements slow, deliberate. He glanced up, catching your eyes and giving you a smile that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to keep the camera steady, but each look he gave you made it harder to concentrate, each gentle touch feeling somehow magnified through the lens.

“Think you’re gonna be able to keep it still?” he teased, looking up at you with a grin.

You gave a soft laugh, your breath hitching. "I’ll try."

Nicholas’ eyes flicked to the camera, then back to you. “Good, because I want you to watch.”

Watching Nicholas through the lens, you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken. He looked incredible, every muscle flexing, his gaze entirely focused on you. When he glanced up, his eyes filled with a dark intensity, he murmured, “Tell me how good it feels.”

Your voice came out breathy, almost a whisper. “It feels amazing, you’re amazing daddy.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips along your collarbone, and then you felt his fingers slip inside, gentle but confident. Your reaction was immediate, a moan that you didn’t even realize was so loud until you saw him smirk, eyes flicking to the camera for a second. “Can’t wait to hear these sounds on playback,” he murmured, a glint of satisfaction in his voice.

When you finally reached your release, he held you close, trailing soft kisses over your shoulders and up to your jaw. “You did so good for me baby,” he whispered, brushing a few strands of your braids from your face. His voice was soothing, grounding you.

He glanced at the camera, then back to you with that mischievous smile. “Now it’s my turn to hold this.” He picked up the camera, positioning it to capture everything. “Get on your knees for daddy,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing authority.

You moved into position, looking up at the lens with wide, needy eyes that made him groan softly. “Just like that,” he murmured, his fingers slipping into the braids framing your face as he recorded.

You took his thick cock into your mouth, and he let out a pleased sigh, running his fingers through your braids, guiding you gently. “Such a good girl for daddy,” he breathed, voice dropping to a near whisper. His gaze shifted between you and the camera, clearly savoring every second.

As things reached a peak, he pulled back, his breaths heavy. “Look into the camera for me,” he said, his thumb gently tilting your chin. You looked up, meeting the lens with a soft smile as he murmured, “So hot, you’re perfect.” You stuck your tongue out as he came all over your face, the camera capturing your best angles. He moaned in contempt as you licked your lips and the tips of his cock, amazement swelling inside him.

He lowered the camera, the appreciation in his eyes clear as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss.

Nicholas looked at you, his eyes dark with intensity. “I want you to ride daddy’s dick, sweetheart,” he murmured, settling himself back against the headboard. You moved to straddle him, feeling the warmth and closeness between you as you positioned yourself. He adjusted the camera, making sure it captured the two of you perfectly.

As you lowered yourself, his hands found your waist, a smile tugging at his lips. “Just like that baby, so good,” he praised softly. His gaze flicked to the camera for a second before landing back on you. “Look at you. So beautiful—you love this, don’t you?”

You felt his hands slide lower, gripping you tighter to guide your movements. With a small grin, he gave you a gentle slap on the ass, urging you to pick up the pace. “Faster slut,” he whispered. Your rhythm grew more intense as he admired you, glancing back at the camera with a proud smile. “See how perfect she is?” he murmured, almost to himself.

He moved with you until he set the camera back on the table, making sure it captured your entire bodies moving in synce. His voice was a low encouragement, “Come on, beautiful. Let go for me.”

With his words, you felt yourself relax completely in his arms, letting the orgasm sweep over you. Just as you caught your breath, he carefully moved you onto your back, keeping his focus on you. His eyes met yours, his gaze warm and intent as he leaned closer.

“Tell me,” he murmured, a playful smirk in his eyes as he looked between you and the camera. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

Barely able to speak, you answered softly, “You daddy.”

With a proud, tender smile, he wrapped his arms around you, his hips snapping against you. “You’re such a slut for me baby, only sluts want to be amateur pornstars,” he panted, his thrusts speeding up and making the bed frame slam against the wall.

His words had you on the edge and you wrapped your legs around him, meeting his thrusts and grinding against his pelvis. “See, what did I tell you? You’re such a slut, sweetheart.”

Nicholas' hands found your neck, his grip firm as he held you close. “Come on, beautiful, let go for daddy, right on my cock,” he murmured, his voice thick with pride and encouragement. Your body responded, a wave spurting from your pussy as you gasped his name.

His hands moved to cradle your face, and with a gentle yet intense look, he said, “My turn.” Carefully, he shifted you onto your stomach, his hands warm and steady on your hips. As he leaned closer, his breath brushed against your ear, and he whispered, “Just like this baby.”

The closeness, the trust, everything between you felt powerful. He pulled you back to him by your neck, his arms wrapped securely around it.

“I’m gonna cum baby,” he began, his hips slamming against your ass, “and I’m gonna do it inside you. I’m gonna get you pregnant, get this sexy fucking body swollen with my babies. This is gonna be our baby making tape and we’re gonna look back at it one day and know this is how we made our baby.”

Lost in the warmth and intensity of his words and presence, you felt safe as he held you close, thrusting into your squelching heat. The recording light blinked softly in the background, capturing the moment. With a groan of your name, you felt him still inside you, filling you up to the brim. Nicholas chuckled softly, looking over at the camera with a playful grin. “Guess that’s a wrap, folks,” he teased, making you both laugh as he clicked the stop button.

Settling back into the bed, you rested in his arms, his presence comforting and steady as he held you close. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers gently tracing along your back as you began to drift to sleep, feeling completely at ease in the warmth of his embrace.

[consciouschunkofmoss]

SHE TALKS OF BRONA THROUGH A DIFFERENTIATING LENS IM DYING

[fushiglow]

Gojo cares a lot, actually

Perspective and empathy in Jujutsu Kaisen

Once again, I see accusations that Gojo only cared about people in relation to their strength. I can't believe that 236 and 261 haven't put this idea to bed already, but let's go over it again for the class. Here are some thoughts on the importance of perspective and empathy in JJK. Spoilers for chapter 266 ahead!

In 236, Gojo tells Geto he loves everyone. This single line, direct from the man's mouth, should be enough. However, moments later, Nanami says, "You never cared about protecting people". So why do some readers only take one of these perspectives at face value?

Perspective matters in JJK. Often, characters and even the narrator state things that are only true from their perspective in a given moment. What you choose to believe says more about you than it does about them — an idea I explored in my analysis of 236.

This is particularly important when it comes to Gojo and Megumi, because the moment they meet is the only (?) scene in the whole of JJK that we get to see from two perspectives.

The second time, the reader understands the emotional weight of it for Gojo — but Megumi doesn't. He's kept in the dark, so of course he thinks about their meeting in different terms.

Once again, whose perspective are we going to take at face value? From Megumi's point of view, he wasn't offered a choice. From Gojo's point of view, he extended to a child the little agency available to him.

Offering a choice is something Gojo does consistently throughout JJK — pick your hell. It's one of the ways he shows care for others that goes unrecognised, so it's ironic that readers and characters alike misinterpret it for a lack of empathy. However, this is no coincidence.

For much of the series, Gege keeps Gojo at a narrative distance from the reader. Most of what we know about Gojo comes from what other characters tell us, and our view of him is therefore coloured by their perspective.

However, while Gojo laments the distance between himself and others, he fails to recognise that he's the one maintaining it — and not because of his strength or his technique. He has admirable goals, but he chooses to work towards them alone.

There are many occasions where characters reach for Gojo, but he refuses to let them past his metaphorical Infinity out of a sense of duty and perhaps misplaced belief that he alone can or should bear this heavy burden.

All of Gojo's actions are about preserving the humanity of others at the expense of his own. That's precisely why he chooses to become the "monster" alone. In this way, Gojo is flawed but he isn't uncaring. Again, it's a matter of perspective.

Gojo sees strength as the solution because it's all he's ever known. However, recognising the strength of others doesn't mean that's all he sees — because Gojo knows that dehumanisation acutely. What's more, 261 also suggests he thinks of "strength" in different terms to others.

When they meet, Gojo tells Megumi not to get left behind. However, he later says he was "left behind" when Geto defected. We know Gojo's physical strength eclipsed Geto's, yet Gojo only refers to himself as "the strongest" alone after Geto dies.

Before that point, there's nothing in the text to suggest that Gojo ever stopped thinking of the pair of them as "the strongest" — as a unit, as a duo. This suggests that strength, for Gojo, is something much more intangible, much more sympathetic, and much more human too.

What do the strongest characters in JJK all have in common? Indomitable will, courage in their convictions, an overwhelming sense of self. Looking at strength through this lens shines a new light on Gojo's goal of raising "strong" allies.

When he forces a third option in Shibuya, Gojo proves that strength doesn't have to come at the expense of compassion. In the later chapters of the Shinjuku Showdown arc, Yuta, Yuji, and the rest of Gojo's allies reinforce that idea ten times over, and I have every belief that Megumi will soon do the same.

To suggest Gojo only saved Megumi for his technique is unfair when he has consistently proven himself committed to protecting the futures of others, even "weak" non-sorcerers who have nothing to offer him. Once again, it's all a matter of perspective.

Gojo's way of caring is still caring, even if it doesn't look familiar to you. His only flaw was closing himself off from others and choosing to care from afar. However, just like Gojo never stopped reaching for Geto after he left, Gojo's allies never stopped reaching for him.

There's a phrase we use to describe looking at things from another perspective: putting yourself in someone else's shoes. I think it's very telling that Gojo's allies have taken that literally — Yuta by stepping into his skin, and Yuji by standing in his place in 266.

TL;DR: Gojo cares a lot, actually. If Gojo talking about his innermost feelings can't make you empathise, and the students he supposedly "doesn't care about" recognising his burdens can't make you empathise?

Well, that says far more about you than it does about him.

Come read my fics about this!

In His Shadow explores the ways Gojo keeps his distance from Megumi, who isn't equipped with the tools he needs to reach him but finds his own ways to show he cares, born from ten years of history together.

Rivers Crossed, Mountains Scaled explores Gojo and Megumi's relationship through the vehicle of SatoSugu — why Gojo took him in, whether Gojo really gave him a choice, how Gojo sees him.

Hope you enjoyed the post! I love you, Gege Akutami ♥️

[yuomizuu]

♡ | open arms ── kinich x reader !

synopsis: a bit of kindness can go a long way. at least, that was what the elders in kinich’s clans would often say. though in a land where war with the abyss is at a constant, he finds it difficult to truly believe such a notion. perhaps meeting you simply had the sole purpose of erasing those doubts that shrouded his mind.

additional: w.c 899 ⸝⸝⸝ content includes . . .gn reader, implied friends to lovers, character study www

( 💌 ) yuomi’s note: slowly but surely reverting back to my musical kid phase ty mr. jorge for creating epic and what better way to commend that than doing some kinich brainrot ^w^

natlan — a nation of eternal oaths and converging fires. where the sacred flame burns brighter with each chant of the epic hymn that echoes from land to sea, bringing back valiant warriors, now deemed heroes, anew.

yet beyond those blazing flames of ardent also lies a resplendent nation full of color and life. made up of magnificent gorges and valleys that stretch as far as the eye can see, vibrant fields where the saurians roam free, and rejuvenating springs that ease the weary, you'll find a unique beauty reflected within it all.

for most of his life, kinich had often found it difficult to view his homeland through the lens of the latter. since a young age, misfortune has always seemed to follow him wherever he goes, like a relentless beast chasing down its prey that's slowly becoming more and more exhausted. where no matter how far he soars, the shackles of a brutal reality always drag him back down. eventually, such experiences would sometimes render the lone saurian hunter an austere individual, whether intended or not. in his eyes, the world was but a tapestry of unbridled battles.

it was only after meeting you that, slowly but surely, kinich would gradually learn to appreciate the more charming aspects of life and even gain a sense of tenderness towards it. however, that still doesn't cause him to lower his guard completely.

"kinich, you're doing it again," you mused, the lush grass below softening your footsteps as you and your companion tread through the forest. the occasional murmur of wild animals hidden within the trees or nestled away in burrows echoes throughout.

hearing this, the male ahead of you briefly stops in his tracks to glance back at you with a puzzled look. "doing.. what exactly?"

stopping beside him, you motion at the weapon held in his hand. "gripping onto your sword so tightly that the tips of your knuckles are turning white. i swear… it's like you're expecting us to get ambushed out here any minute."

in response to your sigh though, he simply shrugs. "perhaps we will be."

"kinich, we barely took on this commission not that long ago, and we aren't even at our intended destination yet. i doubt we'll find ourselves walking into trouble so soon."

"better to be prepared for catastrophe before it strikes when you least expect it."

an air of laughter escapes from you then. "catastrophe," you repeat to yourself, head shaking in slight amusement. "we aren't exactly tackling the abyss here you know."

"no, but if we were, your lack of attentiveness would surely lead us to such." in between his pause, you catch sight of the subtle curl of his lips. "not even ajaw would be so heedless, and that certainly says something."

"you little…!"

balling your hand up into a fist, you immediately go to throw a punch on his arm that ultimately does not land when the now chuckling male catches it effortlessly. not that such a punch would've hurt him in the first place, but kinich is all for finding the humor in evading your poor attempts at attacking him. plus, you've managed to land a good punch or two on him before, although he blames ajaw for distracting him during those moments.

before you can pull your hand away from his grasp and unwillingly accept defeat this time, kinich intertwines his fingers with yours, holding your hand firmly. without saying another word, he turns to continue walking along with you at his side now.

due to your good-natured sense of self, it's often left kinich to be roped up in more conflicts than he'd usually expect: said conflicts are getting you out of trouble.

but even in the face of danger, you never cease to look for the good in others. while many have considered this trait of yours to be a display of naive foolishness, it felt like a breath of fresh air for kinich. while he was also considered to be different from those of his tribe concerning certain viewpoints and beliefs, you were an oddity that transcended beyond his own novel ideals. if you had not been born and raised in natlan, kinich would've surely mistaken you for being an outlander. even you had once jokingly said that perhaps you were actually a child of the anemo god, barbatos, that the wind had accidentally blown too far from home.

because, unlike the fierce fires that dwelt within the spirit of every warrior in natlan, your flame was akin to that of a candle: a gentle yet comforting light that simply wished to share its warmth with the world around them and kinich would do anything to keep that light of yours burning for evermore.

he'll never admit to you aloud, but he secretly thanks the anemo archon every day for sending him a beautiful soul such as yourself. your presence alone was as calming as a gentle breeze, and his love for you a sweet, sweet melody.

"speaking of ajaw, where is the little rascal anyways?" you ask, breaking the silence as you look around to find the creature that has strangely gone quiet.

"i sent him to scout ahead for a bit. he'll be back soon enough."

a soft smile creeps onto your face. you spare the male one more glance before giving his hand a light squeeze.

"of course you did."

[riekirei]

fan favorite— nishimura riki

you and riki, the iconic duo, were inseparable. your friendship was so loved in public, but it was something more in private.

pairing: idol!riki x 8th member!fmr | genre(s): fluff | content/warning: they kiss like once, riki teases reader and vice versa

[requested]

word count: 1.2k

author’s note: been insanely inactive but wtv, here’s something i wrote recently. hope u enjoy reading this! likes n reblogs r highly appreciated. not proofread

you step out of the van with the beaming sun rays hitting your face, the smell of the easing ocean breeze, and the sounds of the crashing waves filling the area. you pull your digital camera out of your bag that hung just by your shoulder. you try taking a picture of the bright summer sun that shined that day, but it was way too bright for you to see. you squint your eyes to the sun’s light that nearly blinded you when a hand’s shadow appeared from behind, hovering over your eyes to shield it from the light. it was riki, he had just gotten out of the van after you. “blinding lights, blinding lights~” (blind - enhypen) he sang as he watched you take pictures with the help of his hand preventing the sun from glaring at you. “hey!! since when have you gone down the car?” you asked him, wondering how fast he’d came as you expected him to take longer. 

you were at a beach for your new album’s concept photos, just like dimension dilemma (i guess it’s associated with the group’s storyline) and the makeup artists and stylists had just fixed your hair and makeup in the van before arriving at the beach. riki was up next to get his hair and makeup done, but he apparently was done? “did they not do your makeup or something?” you added onto your question from earlier. “they didn’t do my hair. probably the style they wanted for this album was something like this” riki replied. “you look good either way sooo” you told him, tucking his dark hair into his ear.

just a moment after, a camera panned towards the place you and riki stood. it was the staff shooting behind the scenes content for them to post on the official youtube channel. you snap out of the conversation you were previously having with riki and face the camera lens that was right in front of you. “hello engene!! today we’re at the beach and we’ll be taking some photos for our upcoming album” you say, making your way through the hot sand, towards the shore. riki follows shortly behind you. the camera films the both of you walking before you come across an area with countless seashells, laid out on the ground. it was quite a rough surface to be walking on so as you stepped on it, you tripped, slightly slipping your body forward. just as you were about to fall, riki’s grabbed your wrist and made sure to carefully support the other side of your torso from hitting the ground. he helped you get on your feet again. “guys y/n’s feeling silly” he says to the camera, laughing at what just happened. “engene, it was ni-ki’s fault, right? he pushed me” (he didn’t hsjahs) you jokingly said. “he pushed me!!!” you added. “nahhh, maybe its just a skill issue to be honest” he told you as you two bickered on camera for the nth time. 

you two found yourselves before the shore, watching the still water reflect the sky as waves came in. you went on your knees to draw doodles and words on the damp white sand. you drew a huge heart with the word ‘engene’ written in the middle. the camera captured the pretty sight before it shifted to what riki was doing. he was standing right where the waves met the shore, the water smoothly gliding on the sand. riki scooped some wet sand, combining it with some drier sand to create a ball. he shaped it with the palms of his hand and set them down to form a pile of multiple sand balls.

“what’s tha-“ you questioned riki before he picked one up and threw one at you. the firm sand ball flew its way towards you, crumbling to pieces as it came into contact with your body. riki bursts out laughing as he sees the mundane look you had on your face. “ha ha, ni-ki. you’re like so funny!” you say sarcastically. you try holding your laughter as you watched riki snicker. he walked back towards the other direction to form more sand balls.

while he wasn’t looking, you bent down over, grabbing a portion of sand that was laid out on the beach. you compressed the grains of sand together to form a sand ball yourself. 

“ni-ki!! look over here!!” you called out, having a plan in mind. just as he turned in your direction, you projected the sand ball right at him, hitting him on his arm. “HEY” riki shouted. 

oh you knew you were done for. like deadass, you were DONE for.

you quickly sprinted away from riki as he chased you across the beach. you stepped into the shallow water, trying to catch a hold of your breath while feeling the cool, relaxing sensation the flowing water had that came in contact with your feet. riki had finally caught up, stepping into the water as well. he wrapped his arms around you, tightly embracing you. “try escaping me now” riki said. “NI-KIII, LET ME GOO!!!” you exclaimed, swinging your body from left to right, attempting to escape him. 

you extended your arm, reaching for riki’s waist. you begun tickling him as you two giggle. he uncontrollably laughed at the tickle he felt. he tries pushing you off of him when you playfully nudge him too, not knowing how strong you had pushed him.

riki fell into the water, getting his outfit wet. “YOU THINK I’M THE ONLY ONE FALLING IN?” he said with a big grin on his face. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you down as you made a splash, landing right next to him. you two sat there and died laughing at what had happened. all this bantering was caught on camera for ENGENEs to watch. they adored the bond you and riki had. they’d make edits, compilations, and several posts about ‘y/n-ki’ and the endearing moments you two had.

you got up, slowly running away from riki who still hadn’t gotten up yet. “Y/N HELP ME UP, I CAN’T- Y/N!!” riki yelled. you looked back and tittered at the sight of riki struggling to get up. “hmmmm what about…. no!” you reply. “OKAY SO YOU DON’T LOVE ME ANYMORE” he responded in a sulky tone. he crossed his arms and pouted his lips. “OKAY!!! I GUESS-“ riki continued before you ran towards his direction, finally giving in and helping the poor boy up. “I’LL HELP YOU UP, OKAY? RELAX PRINCESS ARIEL” you teased riki. “whatever, bro” he said, jokingly giving you a side eye.

the sun set as you and riki spent time with each other at the beach, along with the other members. the cameras cut and the staff called it a day, allowing you all to relax and clear your heads before getting back onto the ride home. you both walked a distance far enough for no one to be able to catch sight of you two. you and riki sat on the sand, feet buried in it. you rested your head on his shoulder while you two stare into the horizon before you. “it’s almost just as pretty as you” riki said as he let out a chuckle. “really?” you reply, lifting your head from his shoulder to look him in the eye. “mhm” he said, slightly nodding his head. you smiled and leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. 

the chemistry between the two of you was good, maybe a lil too good. and the fan favorite duo were great friends on and off cam, maybe a lil more than friends too.

[formulawolff]

xix. when time stood still - t.w.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: 3.4k

warnings: ANGST, so much angst, yearning, mutual pining, cursing, mentions of injury, mild violence, sexual innuendos, light smut (you'd have to squint to see it), age gap relationships, banter, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“have you seen this?”

“seen what?” you arch a brow, shoving a bite into your mouth.

“toto did an interview with sky sports,” alex scoots closer to you on the couch. you were to his right, lily cuddled up on his left, “should we all watch it together? it already has almost one million views.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

you pick at your food, “that’s unusual. sky sports typically rakes in only thousands of views per video.”

“well we’ll just have to watch and see!” lily chirps, leaning forward so that she can drum along your arm with her hands, “chin up, buttercup! we’re about to watch your mans!”

alex presses play, holding the phone at an angle where the three of you could see clearly. the moment he appears on screen, your heart skips a beat.

he’s disheveled, his fluffy brunette locks sticking up on all ends, the first few buttons of his crisp mercedes polo undone, the fabric slightly wrinkled from the stressful events of qualifying. 

although it was cooling down significantly as the sun had set, he wore no jacket. the sleeves of his polo were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his toned forearms, the veins prominent in the low light. there was an emotion in his gaze you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

lewis and george linger in the background, both of them waving fervently to the camera as rachel brooks begins the interview, clearing her throat. 

she begins with her introduction, your jaw going slack the second she mentions your relationship. she continues, pressing on with a flurry of invasive questions. toto appears just as shocked, remaining silent for nearly thirty seconds before speaking. 

“i initiated our relationship,” he starts, pausing briefly once more, “i approached her a few months ago in bahrain. if we’re being honest here, i had been crushing on her for quite some time. since the news broke of her signing to williams in december of 2022.”

alex’s thumb locates the pause button with lighting speed, stopping the video, “no. fucking. way.”

“that is so romantic!” lily squeals, kicking her feet, “alex, what are you doing? press play! i want to watch more.”

as the video resumes, you can’t help but notice lewis and george’s reactions, how their eyes are widened, lips parted as toto shifts in place, slightly swaying back and forth as rachel clarifies exactly how long he had been interested in you. he responds, focusing his attention directly to the camera, his eyes almost piercing through the lens. 

he mentions susie, quenching the blazing rumors that the two you were involved in an affair. he defends her name, stating that she is not the bitter ex-wife that the headlines claim she is. he affirms that she is the founder and helm of the f1 academy, the mother of their children, and an exceptional co-parent and business partner. 

you find yourself almost too invested in the words, leaning over a few more inches so that you can savor the way his voice is brimmed with passion, bursting with nothing but adoration as he catches his breath. 

that’s when he mentions you.

your heart flutters, a dizzying sensation taking hold as he utters the words i love that american girl.

“oh shit,” alex murmurs under his breath, “you have that man in a chokehold.”

“shhh!” lily hushes him, putting a finger to his lips, “there’s still more!”

rachel glances towards the camera as toto spins on his heel, starting to walk away. she calls out him, eager to dissect his previous sentiment. 

“you said that you loved that american driver. do you mind elaborating on that?”

toto turns, now in the center of the frame, “yes, i did. i love her. there are many whispers that i am just using her, that she is just a little pawn in my game to ultimately sign her to mercedes. that is not the case. it is complete and utter bullshit. she is my entire world. i would never take advantage of her in that manner. i respect her too much to do that. 

now that all of your pressing questions are answered, i have one thing to ask. will you all just leave us be? no more hot gossip. no more lies. let me love my american girl. that’s all. i will not be elaborating further, ms. brooks. thank you.”

that’s when rachel blinks, the hand holding the microphone quivering. 

was it from excitement? from a rush of adrenaline because she was able to pry more information out of him? the exhilaration of knowing that this was going to create a media frenzy?

the camera pans to her, the reporter bearing a smug, shit-eating grin. 

“well, now we know how the illustrious mercedes team principal really feels about the williams driver. perhaps tomorrow we will be able to reach her for an exclusive, one-on-one interview. perhaps will we see another post-race kiss? stay tuned to sky sports f1 for more updates here in montreal, canada! have a great evening! we will see you on the race track bright and early for more coverage!” 

the video cuts out, suggestions popping up on the screen for more related content. for a minute, you sit there, completely and utterly in disbelief at what you just witnessed. alex elbows you, bringing you back to earth. 

“you okay?”

“yeah,” you nod, heat burning in your cheeks, “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“and neither were we!” lily springs up from the couch, making her way over to you. 

she knees alex gently, “move, move, move! i need to talk to my girl.”

“am i included in girl talk?” he teases, obliging to her request, “i want to know all of the tea! she never told me about her time in monte carlo.”

“why not?” lily’s lip juts out as she settles next to you, “hey, what’s on your mind?”

your lower lip trembles, tears blurring your vision, “i-i just miss him.”

“oh lovebug,” lily coos, wrapping tender arms around your frame, “is james still being weird about everything?”

“weird is an understatement,” alex whistles, shaking his head, “he’s on insane levels of a strict father figure at the moment. he almost took her phone yesterday because he was under the impression that she was texting toto.”

“nuh uh!” lily’s eyes widen in shock, disgust painting her features, “alex told me that part of it was due to the team’s reputation? the pr teams want you guys to maintain your distance?”

there’s now a steady stream falling down your cheeks, “y-yeah.”

“oh honey,” lily rubs your back as wails bubble up in the back of your throat, “alex, get her phone for me?”

“why?” he inquires, yet hands her your phone, “her passcode is zero-three-zero-nine-two-four.”

“isn’t that the date you won your first grand prix?” lily’s fingers fly across the screen. 

“yes,” alex answers for you, placing a box of tissues on your lap, “lily, what are you doing?”

“calling toto wolff,” her chin tilts upward, towards alex, “duh! who else would i be calling?”

a few paddocks down, toto wolff paces in his office, his drivers situated in the two plush chairs, scrolling away on their phones. 

there is a thick layer of frustration lingering in the air, clouding around the team principal. 

it was not the heated, fiery rage of losing a race or a car malfunctioning. it was more like the fury of wanting something you cannot have. the desperation of it, the way it tugged and pulled at his weary heart. resentment for the mercedes pr team was accumulating by the second, the team principal firing blazing strings of curses under his breath. 

“everyone is going bonkers over that interview, mate,” lewis’ lips are curled into a devious smirk, the driver flashing his screen, “you should see what they’re saying about you.”

“all good things i hope,” toto snorts, rolling his eyes, “in retrospect, i should have just kept my mouth shut.”

on his desk, the inbox of his work email was flooded with furious messages from the pr team, demanding that he keep his lips sealed for the remainder of the weekend. the team principal was to shoot down any pressing inquiries regarding the williams driver. they even went so far to create scenarios that provided examples of the “proper responses.” answers that he was required to give since he only “embarrassed the team and mercedes brand even further.”

“they’re loving every single second,” george tuts, skimming over the comments, “someone said, ‘well now i get it. that man really put his job on the line to admit how much he loves her. w for the american girl, and w interview.’”

“someone by the user ‘mercedesgirl’ posted,” lewis snickers, suppressing his laughter, “‘you know what? good for them. she gets to be railed by the one and only toto wolff. he probably fucks her so hard she can’t see straight. also, no man talks about a woman like that in front of a camera without being absolutely whipped. he loves that girl.’”

“oh really?” toto raises a brow, folding his arms over his chest, “i mean, they’re not–”

a vibration in his pocket interrupts him, lewis and george both setting their phones on their laps, intrigued by the potential caller. 

pulling it out of his pocket, he quickly glances at the screen. 

my golden girl 

swiping across the cool surface, he brings the phone to his ear, “hallo, baby.”

“oh!” the voice on the other end is not familiar, “hi! um, it’s lily he, one of your girlfriend’s close friends.”

hmm. this was odd.

“i was wondering if there was any possible way we could get her over to the mercedes paddock? or your hotel room? she’s in shambles right now over that interview and i think she really could use some of your snuggles or something.”

“is she crying?” toto could pick out the quiet cries in the background, his heart sinking, “do you know why she’s so upset?”

“not really. i think she might be stressed out with everything going on with james and your pr teams,” the voice is light, airy and delicate, “but i think she could really use some time with you. in private. are you busy?” 

that prick. 

what else could he have possibly done or said?

“no,” toto’s eyes dart towards his drivers, “i’m not busy at all, actually. does she want to spend the night with me? i can tell you which things to pack in an overnight bag.”

lewis leans back in the chair, hands on his head as george puckers his lips, making kissy faces. 

“just text me!” lily chirps, “i’ll get her ass in the shower. maybe if she knows she’s going to see you, she’ll perk up. see you soon!”

the line clicks dead, toto pointing a finger at both of his drivers, “you two! out!”

“come on,” lewis groans, “we don’t get to see your precious baby? what if i want to say hi?”

“unfortunately for you,” toto scoffs, crossing over to his desk, “i have places to be.”

“do you want me to call theodore?” george offers, rising to his feet, “i can get the car arranged so no one notices the two of you together.”

“that’s not a terrible idea,” toto dips his head, turning to lewis, “are you going to be helpful or are you going to just sit there and continue to terrorize me?”

“i can help, i can help,” the driver waves a hand, “what do you need me to do?”

“i need you to escort her over here to the paddock or to the car,” shoving an arm into his jacket, the team principal scoops his keys off the desk, frantically gathering his belongings, “will you be able to do that for me?”

“aye aye, captain!” lewis salutes, “you need me to text her?”

“please,” toto whirls around, searching the space, ensuring nothing important was left behind. 

who knew that a simple rendezvous would require such meticulous planning?

well, it seemed when your pr teams desperately tried to keep the two of you apart, your friends would be the ones to step in. 

especially when the two of you were two desperate, yearning messes. 

and when it came to that, toto was eternally grateful. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“i missed you.”

one hand rests on the small of your back, the other kneading into your shoulder blade as your head is nuzzled into his chest, traces of his cologne flooding your nostrils. a simple heather gray t-shirt clings to his top half, boxers hanging on his hips. 

you’re in one of his crewnecks, the garment nearly framing your figure effortlessly. your lashes flutter as tender kisses pepper all over your face, covering your nose, apples of your cheeks, jawline, temple, and forehead. 

“i missed you more, schatzi,” he murmurs, “do you feel better now?”

you had reunited with the team principal in his lavish hotel room approximately an hour ago, lewis hitching a ride with you so that it didn’t raise any eyebrows. george was the one who coordinated theodore’s arrival to your motorhome, meticulously choosing a time in which you wouldn’t be stopped by any lingering members of the williams crew. 

it was quite ridiculous, really. the hoops you had to leap through in order to spend just a few hours with your beloved team principal. 

yet, it was worth it.

so beyond worth it.

the embrace you were greeted with was unlike one you had ever encountered before. toto’s arms nearly swept you off your feet, lifting you a few inches above the ground as he held you tightly against his chest, squeezing with so much force you couldn’t breathe. strings of german filled your ears, bursting with nothing but love and adoration. 

it was like he hadn’t seen you in weeks. 

yet, you were on the same wavelength, nearly erupting into tears once again as he whisked you into his room. 

there was a coziness that rippled in your heart as the two of you laid together, oh so joyful to be reunited once more. 

“so much better,” your lashes flutter, eyelids heavy with exhaustion, “this probably isn’t our smartest idea.”

“i think we’ve made plenty of dumb decisions,” a chuckle rumbles in his chest as he drapes the comforter over you, fluffing it so that it covered any exposed area, “are you nervous for the race tomorrow? the bottom half of the grid is not where i expected you to be.”

“it is what it is,” you exhale, “i could barely get any grip on my tires.”

“it was pretty slick out there. were you distracted by other things?”

“maybe,” you mutter, burying your head into the fabric, “i don’t really want to talk about racing right now.”

“i understand,” he hand drifts, wandering to your rib-cage, “lily mentioned something about james earlier. i just want to know if he had anything to do with your qualifying lap, that’s all.”

his touch his light, nearly feathery as his fingertips drag along, “i mean, i did get into it with him a few times. nothing serious, really.”

“let me know if it’s anything that i need to address, all right?” his hands envelops your breast, his palm radiating warmth as he squeezes, “i want to ensure that you’re not being harassed or anything. i can handle it, but it would destroy me if you were mistreated over something like this.”

“you worry too much,” your breath hitches in your throat as he rolls your nipple between two fingers.

“it’s my job,” his mouth hovers by your ear, “if anything happened to you? oh god. i don’t know what i would do. lately, every time you step foot onto that track, i think my heart rate elevates. i just get so nervous that you may get hurt or something even far wo–”

tilting your chin, you glance upward, pressing a finger to his lips, “i’ll be okay, baby. that’s why the safety regulations are in place. to protect me.”

in the dim light, you notice the glossiness in his gaze, misty even as he responds, the words barely audible. 

“that is true. but you mean everything to me. the safety regulations aren’t enough. i need to be the one protecting you. from everything. i hope you know i’m counting down the days.”

“counting down the days till what exactly?” the pad of your thumb wipes away a tear as it falls. 

“i’m counting down the days until you’re at mercedes. the day when we’ll be able to be together for the rest of our lives. the day where i’ll finally be able to go forward with our future.”

“our future?” your heart swells as he leans in.

“yes, our future. the future in which i’ll be able to make you my wife.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“and it’s lights out here in montreal! the canadian grand prix is underway!”

“push, push.” the command floods in, “you should be able to overtake magnussen.” 

“got it,” you swallow thickly, adrenaline coursing through your veins, “let’s fucking do this.”

as george flew out from the pole position, max hot on his tail, your mind hones in from the chaos of the starting stretch, focusing on the task at hand. 

if you were able to overtake kevin magnussen, then you would more than likely be able to do the same to the ferrari boys as well. that would prove to be a challenge, as both of them were vastly competitive, but the determination set your heart ablaze, goading you to step on that pedal. 

this was it, the canadian grand prix. 

one of the crucial races. just another rung up the ladder to that final destination. 

the world driver’s championship.

and by god, you were going to get there by any means possible. 

yet, kevin was hellbent on maintaining his position, veering in your path. 

on the track, every inch was necessary in order to overtake another car. if you miscalculated the distance by even a hair, the results could be catastrophic. 

cursing under your breath, you alleviate the pressure on the pedal, “he’s not giving me any fucking room guys.”

“you’ll have your opportunity,” james’ voice chimes in, “just be patient, american girl.”

“well i want it now,” you counter, gritting your teeth, “how the fuck am i supposed to be the world champion if i can’t even manage a fucking pod–”

that’s when a horrific crunching noise cuts you off, the world around you slowing as you’re propelled several feet into the air, the wind whistling. 

it was like everything all around was frozen, your car rolling, barreling towards the barrier. blood roars in your ears as you gasp for breath, the panic crashing over you like a tidal wave.

oh god. 

this was it. 

squeezing your eyes shut, you brace for impact, one last image flashing across your mind as the car collides against the rigid surface.

toto and his beautiful eyes, the mocha depths glittering like stars as he dimples form, bearing a wide, radiant grin as his nose scrunches.

that damn smile. 

it was going to be the death of you. 

i love you. 

you hear a voice. his voice. so rich and brassy, thick with the accent you had grown to absolutely adore.

that’s was the last thing you hear before everything goes dark. 

in the stands, fans jump to their feet, their attention lasered in on the scene before them. alex albon of williams racing screeches to a halt, scrambling out of his car.

he stumbles slightly the first few steps, desperate to reach his fellow driver, buried among the wreckage. he shouts across the track, his field of vision blurred as his voice falters. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck! i’m coming! i’m coming for you! hold on!”

calls come buzzing across the radio waves. 

“red flag! we need the fucking red flag!”

“red flag! fuck! where is the safety car?”

“where is the fucking safety car?”

“hello! we need a red flag!”

“where is the medic? we need a fucking medic!”

in the mercedes paddock, a team principal rips off his headphones, his chest heaving as he frantically makes his way towards the entrance of the garage, scanning the track. 

he makes out the outline of alex albon, desperately tugging you out of a pile of crumpled metal and tires. 

as his line of sight falls on you, all he can see is the way your head rolls, limbs lolling as he lays you on the ground, his pleas crying out.

“where the fuck is the medic? she needs help!”

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let me know if you would like to be added for chapters xx. & xxi! as always, thank you all for the endless support on this series! the compliments, comments, and asks i have received over the course of the past month or so have meant the world to me! i love you all so much! <3

[aurorawhisperz]

little romance documentary

contains: swearing, fluff, use of y/n and a whole lot of dumb things.

tom!peter parker x stark!reader

a/n: the long-awaited rory comeback! and i’m in my spiderman phase so..the ethan landry stuff will have to wait.

summary: (based off the video diary scene in homecoming) a compilation of all things you’ve done with peter :3

“What are you doing?” You poke at the camera, causing it to shake a little bit. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to show that to the rest of the world.”

Peter shakes his head, “What? No, it’s a little behind-the-scenes thing. Video diary, documentary..” He tries to find the right word.

This is probably why you thought your father hiring someone your age was a bad idea.

“Right, who are you gonna show it to?” And all you can do is stare into the camera while he keeps on recording whatever’s happening in the fancy car.

“Oh, it’s just for me. For memories!” Peter moves the camera away from your view and makes it look like he’s in the spotlight instead.

You’re quite overwhelmed, so you give him a smile in return. “You can do a little introduction.. if you want.” He says with a grin as he makes the camera face you.

“Okay,” You clear your throat, fixing the way you looked. “I’m Y/N Stark, we are going to Germany, currently being driven by my trusty servant, Happy Hogan!”

Happy quickly interrupts the process, “And I’m not too happy with how you have the nerve to call me your trusty servant.” You roll your eyes at his words. “Whatever.”

“And I’m here with uh..Spiderboy!” You continue after a short while, Peter laughs, turning the camera back to himself before correcting the name, “It’s Spiderman, actually..”

The car speeds along the road, and everything felt okay. You were staring into the sun, enjoying and relaxing, Peter was recording you as you were doing so. Admiring how he was able to work with a really cool person..and his daughter.

Reporters and even influencers were calling you a privileged pretty girl, but he didn’t believe those people at all.

You look back at Peter, who’s quick to move the camera in Happy’s direction. You knew what he was doing and all you hoped for was that he didn’t capture a bad angle.

“Okay, okay, let's do this properly,” you say, taking the camera from Peter. “I'm Y/N Stark, the brains and beauty behind this operation. And this,” you turn the camera to Peter, “is Spiderman, our main character and friendly neighborhood hero in Queens.”

Peter gives a mock salute to the camera. “I’m here to save the day or, at the very least, make some pretty cool memories.”

Happy shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips as he focuses on the road ahead. “Just don't get yourselves into too much trouble, kids.”

“Trouble? Us? Neverrrr~” you say with a smirk.

This was also the start of a great friendship.

-

The camera flicks on and Peter’s face fills the screen as he grins mischievously. “Alright, we’re going to pull the ultimate prank on Happy. Wish us luck.” He whispers into the lens.

You appear next to him, just as excited, holding a box. “We’ve been planning this for a while. This is going to be EPIC.” You whisper.

The two of you sneak through the hallway of the lavish suite, making sure you aren’t attracting any attention. Happy was inside his room, absorbed by a movie, completely unaware of what’s happening as usual.

“Ready?” you ask Peter, who nods to the camera.

You press a button on a small remote, activating the surprise. Suddenly, the speakers hidden around the room begin to play the song “WHO LET THE DOGS OUT?”

Happy’s movie is long gone when it’s replaced by a compilation of embarrassing moments such as Happy looking into the fridge at three in the morning, him slipping on the floor, Happy trying (and utterly failing) to dance and getting scared by jumpscares.

He looks up, startled at first. “What the hell..?”

And that was your cue.

You and Peter burst into the room, laughing hysterically. “GOTCHA!” You shout, holding up the camera to capture his reaction. Happy was trying to suppress such levels of anger behind his crossed arms. “Really, kid? You’re involving the boss’s daughter OR SHOULD I SAY THE DEVIL’S OFFSPRING in your shenanigans?”

You both grin sheepishly. “Happy, relax..it was all her idea. I was just the accomplice, I was cool.” Happy shakes his head in disgust. “You’re lucky I have a sense of humor.” He says, holding up a finger as he walks to the bathroom. “THIS MEANS WAR!” Happy yells out.

“Bring it on, grandpa.” You tease. “You’ll never top this.” You and Peter high-five. “Think we need to wrap this up before he gets any other ideas..” Peter scratches his head as you turn the camera back to yourself.

Peter put on a cowboy-ish accent, “Until next time, folks. We are now signing off.” He tips his invisible hat, still grinning.

-

You’re on a plush couch next to the famous Tony Stark, sitting across from Peter who has the camera in his hand.

“Hey, nonexistent audience, welcome back to our comedy club! We’re here with Mr. Stark since this is a special episode.” Peter leans over at the camera, making him look like he’s upside down.

He pans the camera to you and Tony. Your father looked slightly bewildered and you were enjoying the spotlight.

“Thank you so much for joining us, Mr. Stark.” Peter settles down in front of the two of you. “First off, Y/N—how does it feel to be the daughter of Iron Man? Is it all..uh, glitz and glamour?”

You laugh, glancing at your dad. “It has its pros and cons. I still wanna sue that reporter for calling me a bitch.” Peter laughs at your words and focuses the camera on you as you go on and on about trying out the latest tech before it even reaches the world.

Tony raises an eyebrow at Peter and then looks back at you while you ramble about being a Stark.

“That’s a bit odd,” He places a hand on his chin, probably showing off his goatee. “My daughter likes to do solo projects, so it’s odd seeing you two of all people working together for this..video diary but if you’re out of trouble and it keeps Y/N happy, who am I to complain, right?”

You smirk, “At least Dad’s on board.”

Peter smiles, moving on to the next question. “Y/N, what’s one thing people would be surprised to know about Mr. Stark as a dad?”

You think for a moment, then grin. “He’s actually a big softie. He pretends to be all tough and serious, but he’s the first to offer a hug when you need one. And he makes the best pancakes.”

Tony chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re ruining my tough guy image, kid.”

Peter chuckles but doesn’t remove the camera’s focus from you. “And Mr. Stark, what’s one piece of advice you’d give to Y/N as she navigates her way through life?”

Tony’s expression turns sincere, his tone softening. “Always be true to yourself, buttercup. It’s easy to get caught up in what people expect of you, but at the end of the day, it’s your own integrity and heart that matter the most. And remember, you’re stronger than you think.”

You smile, touched by your dad’s words. “Thanks, Dad.”

Peter glances at his notepad, then back at the two of you. “Alright, final question. Y/N, what’s next for you? Any exciting projects or plans?”

Tony raises an eyebrow, he definitely caught on Peter’s not-so-secret intentions by now. “Well, I’ve got a few ideas in the works,” you say, smiling at the camera. “But you’ll have to stay tuned to find out. Can’t give away all my secrets now, can I?”

Tony leans back. “You know, Peter, you seem very interested in Buttercup’s plans. Any particular reason for that?”

Peter stammers slightly, his cheeks turning a bit red. “Oh, I just think she has some really cool ideas, Mr. Stark.“

You laugh, leaning towards the camera. “And you can bet we’ll be documenting every step of the way in our video diary.”

Peter grins, wrapping up. “Well, that’s it for today’s episode. Big thanks to Tony Stark for joining us. Until next time, keep watching for more adventures.”

As the recording ends, Tony shakes his head, smiling at the two of you. “You know, this might actually be a good thing. Just don’t let it go to your heads.”

You leave the room and the first thing Tony does is head over to Peter. “I’m not the kind of father to tell boys to stay away from their skanky little daughters but..don’t lay your..spider hands, spider legs, eight legs, whatever spiders have on my daughter.”

-

Peter sits on the edge of his bed in his hotel room, bouncing slightly with excitement despite the cuts and bruises covering his face. The adrenaline from the fight still runs through his veins. He can't help but giggle as he replays the battle in his mind.

There's a knock on the door, and before he can respond, you step inside. “Peter? You in here?”

“Y/N! You won’t believe what just happened, I met Captain America and I took his shield and I was like..” Peter puts on a deep voice as he runs his mouth even faster, “Hey, what’s up, everybody? I’m Spiderman from Queens and—”

“Okay, okay, you’re talking too fast.” You stop him but you can’t help but laugh at how enthusiastic he is about everything. “You probably looked impressive out there, Spider-boy, but are you okay? I mean-”

Peter’s grin widens and he interrupts, “I’m more than okay! IT WAS INSANE! I was out there with Iron Man, Black Widow, Captain America, Hawkeye and a bunch of new guys and I..” He stops when he sees how genuinely worried you are. “But yeah, I’m fine..really. Just a scratch.”

You can’t help but smile. “Alright, let’s see those ‘few bruises’ then,” you say, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to you.

This was the moment where you realized you were falling in love with him.

Peter sits beside you, still bubbling with excitement. “Okay, so there was this one moment where I webbed Cap’s shield and—”

“Wait, you webbed Captain America’s shield?”your eyes were wide. “Yeah!” His face lit up. “And then he’s like, ‘You got heart, kid,’ and I’m thinking, ‘Did Captain America just compliment me?’”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s incredible, Peter. But seriously, are you sure you’re okay?”

Peter nods, his expression softening a bit. “Sore, but good. It was just... so surreal. I’ve never been in anything like that before.”

You reach out and gently touch one of the bruises on his cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay. You did great today, Peter. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too.”

“I will, I PROMISE.” He gives you a little pinky promise, both of you linking your small fingers together. His excitement gave way to a more relaxed, contented smile.

As Peter finished talking about everything that happened at the airport in detail, you lean in and press a gentle kiss on his roughed-up cheek. “Goodnight, Pete.”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise, nearly all of his blood rushing to his face. “Aww, thanks.” A blush creeped up his face.

As you stand to leave, Peter's gaze shifts to the table where the camera is.

His cheeks flush even deeper as he realizes the camera caught your goodnight kiss. He quickly reaches over to turn it off, Peter can't help but smile as he replays the moment over in his mind until he drifts off into sleep.

This was also the moment he realized he was falling in love with you too.

-

The two of you sat side by side on Peter’s bed, watching the footage from his laptop.

Suddenly, the scene transitions to the part where you kissed Peter goodnight. Peter shifts next to you, scratching the back of his head. “Um, so..that was uh, unexpected!”

You nod as well, “Totally unexpected.”

Peter clears his throat, his eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but straight into your soul. “I mean, not that it wasn't nice! It was... really nice. But, um, I just didn't expect it.”

You chew on your lip, trying to find the right words. “Right, yeah. I mean, it's not like I planned it or anything. It just... happened.”

There's a long pause when the awkwardness decides to stay forever. Finally, Peter breaks the silence. "I... I have to tell you something. Ever since we started this video diary, I kinda..uh, liked you. Not like a ‘you’re cool’ like but yeah! I..like-like you. More than just a general..likeness.”

You were caught off guard. “Oh, wow, that’s um, even more unexpected.”

Peter winces, his cheek turning as red as his suit. “Yeah, I know, it’s kind of out of the blue..sorry. I didn’t wanna make things weird because I work for your dad of all people.”

“No, it’s not weird..uh.” You shake your head, trying to find the right words to say. “I don’t feel the same way but uh-“

Peter’s eyes widen, “Oh, that’s alright, I mean, I wasn’t forcing you to like me back but—”

“NO! NO! NO!” You sit up and look down at Peter, “I do feel the same way, I uh..like-like you too but it feels like I care a lot more than you do..like I like you a lot more than you like me. Shit like that..”

“Really?” He breathes out, “You do?”

You nod, fixing Peter’s messed-up hair. “Yeah, I do.”

Before either of you can say anything else, Peter gets up, places the laptop on the other side and leans in hesitantly, his lips mere inches from yours. He looks at you, and all you can do in the intensity of the moment is nod. Peter closes the gap and captures your lips in a soft kiss.

He grabs you by the waist and has you straddling him as you try to deepen the kiss. Peter, considering your father, probably thought you had some experience but you didn’t. You, on the other hand, were thankful for the playboy genes kicking in so this wouldn’t turn out horrible.

It's awkward, clumsy, and completely perfect in its imperfection, just like how any other first kiss two people have should be.

You both pull away, breathless and wide-eyed.

Suddenly, a loud knock on the door breaks the moment, causing you both to jump apart in surprise. Aunt May's voice calls out from the other side, oblivious to the lovey-dovey moment within.

“Peter, dinner's ready!”

You share a sheepish smile, Peter realizes he’s not alone in his embarrassment. “Guess we'll continue this later,” you say, your cheeks still flushed.

“She makes terrible meatloaf, I just wanted to tell you.” He says as you get off his lap.

You look at the laptop next to Peter and laugh at the sight of Peter blushing and gushing like a fool after you kissed him that night. “I think we turned your video diary into a little romance documentary instead.”

“At least I’ll have something to show people when they ask how we met.” Peter shrugs and closes the laptop.

“You still can’t show that to anyone else, man..” You groan as you stand up, grabbing Peter’s hand to help him up.