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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Note

Oh to be a fly next to Daniel when he received the news about her pregnancy

His Best Man || DR3 {Daniel’s Reaction}

A/N: quick 700 words written on my phone 💕 F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Daniel’s Reaction

Daniel wouldn’t normally have his phone with him when he was meant to be listening to the debrief. His entire concentration should have been on the technicians reading the data from the free practice he had just completed. But since you hadn’t been feeling the best you decided to stay home instead of going to the paddock, and it had left him feeling a little unsettled. He missed your company.

Like a teenager in class, he had his phone on his lap hidden under the table and the moment it lit up he snatched it. His thumb froze over the green icon as his brain registered the name on the screen wasn’t yours.

“Excuse me, guys, I need to take this,” he interrupted as he abruptly stood up and left the room. He and James hadn’t spoken since the phone call in Portland nearly two months ago and if the biometric monitor was still attached from the practice it would have caught the sudden spike in his heart rate.

For a second Daniel thought about letting the call go to voicemail but he wasn’t a coward, so he took a deep breath and answered the call. “Hello, mate, it’s been a while,” he greeted with a confidence he didn’t feel.

Immediately James’ laugh set him on edge and he closed the door to his driver room since there were still a lot of people loitering around. “Tends to happen when you fuck someone’s wife.”

“Ex-wife, which tends to happen when you’re a cheating piece of shit,” Daniel shot back.

“Hmm, I don’t remember signing any court documents.”

Daniel was usually patient by nature but his patience for this man had run out on the side of a highway in Perth. “Why did you call me, James?”

“I just thought we could celebrate the wonderful news together, since my wife is pregnant. I’m assuming you’re the father but considering she’s a whore, who knows?”

“Shut your fucking mouth, James,” Daniel growled as his hands threatened to crush the phone with the grip he had. “You don’t talk about her like that, ever, you understand!”

“That she’s a whore or that she’s pregnant? Because both are true.”

“You’re a fucking liar, and she can’t have kids, she already told me.”

James’ laugh sent Daniel’s stomach dropping and a cold fissure running down his spine. “Who's the liar now…”

The phone went dead before he could respond and he stared at his phone as it returned to his home screen. The image was one of his favourites, though every photo of you was technically a favourite, this one was perfect. You weren’t even paying attention to the camera as he snapped the shot, all of your focus was on the tiny joey cradled in your arms as you bottle fed it.

He already knew about your fertility struggles, it was no secret, but it was clear you would have been a great mother had you been given the chance. It was why he was struggling so much to digest James’ words. You wouldn’t have lied about that, he couldn’t believe it.

Needing the reassurance only you could provide, he tied the arms of his race suit around his waist and started to run. It wasn’t far to his apartment block from the paddock but it felt longer as he sprinted full pelt through the busy streets.

Daniel hadn’t even thought to bring his keys and after a few attempts at knocking loudly he went back to the front desk to borrow a spare one. The knots in his stomach had twisted into a noose by the time he unlocked the door and walked into the silent apartment.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his spine as he heard a soft sob come from the bathroom. The sound penetrated his heart and spurred him to close the distance in a mad dash to fix whatever had caused you pain but he never expected to find you the way he did. Pregnancy tests littered the floor, three bold plus signs staring him in the face as he stumbled back against the wall and let it take his weight and he slid down to the floor.

“You said you couldn’t have kids.”

#his best man #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel riccardo x reader #ollie answers #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 fic

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lenievi · 9 months

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I think it's valid when people prefer to think that Carol and Kirk's baby was planned, that Kirk agreed to it, but considering that for years most people thought that Kirk wasn't aware that he had a child - or learned later - and a lot of people still commenting how SNW is "breaking canon", that the baby was unplanned is also a valid reading

it's also valid for Carol wanting to keep the child. It's valid for Kirk and Carol talking and Kirk initially being like, yes, I'll be there for the two of you, but then the more time passed, the more his career progressed (i.e. maybe he received the news of his promotion after Carol got pregnant), he started to have regrets.

It's valid for Carol not wanting their child growing up like Kirk did. And her not wanting to follow Kirk from posting to posting. It should also be valid for Kirk to not feel ready and agree that he would stay away because his career was more important to him, hoping that maybe when David was older, he would understand. (He did expect that Carol would tell David and was surprised she didn't.) He himself also had complicated feelings about an absent father, but he did... understand.

Kirk showed regrets when he was 52 in TWOK because he was depressed and feeling old. At 26, he might not be prepared to settle down.

There doesn't need to be a villain in the relationship. Both could decide on what they felt was for the best at that time. And initially, Carol might have planned to tell David all about Kirk, but later, she decided that maybe it would be better if he didn't know. That doesn't make her "evil" or a bad mother. It makes her human.

The whole problem of villainizing Carol for years imho is just because people don't want to think that Kirk would rather sail through the galaxy than being with his son.

(it's the same as people immediately jumping to a conclusion that McCoy's ex-wife was at fault instead of McCoy being a man™ in ST2009. Have you never heard a man talking about his ex-wife after divorce?)

#tos nonsense #snw nonsense #headcanon times #i don't think i'm gonna stop thinking about this anytime soon lol #i'm just trying to find a version i can use in a fic that doesn't make anyone a bad guy #because i refuse to make carol a bad guy #i will always like that in the novelization of generations kirk is seeing himself marrying carol and everyone being alive and mccoy being #his best man #free of all his regrets and pain... a beautiful illusion full of joy #jim kirk #carol marcus

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allskywalkerswhine · 8 months

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in fics where luke gets plopped into the prequels i want every jedi within ten metres of him to think hes the weirdest jedi theyve ever seen. he has negative lightsaber form. he doesnt know what a kata is. he handstands when he meditates. his solution to sith is to try and have a chat. hes a political radical who keeps suggesting revolution. you ask him what the jedi code is and he says "kindness and compassion and helping those in need :) ". you ask how he used the force like that and he says some shit about how you are a luminous being limited only by your mind. the councils authority is just a suggestion. he is somehow the new favourite of both qui gon and yoda

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nerdpoe · 7 months

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When Danny decides to reincarnate, centuries after his adventures, he chooses a random Dimension of Heroes and Villains.

He's expecting adventure! Heroics! A life worth bragging about in the Afterlife!

He wakes up in a tube, staring down at surprised teen heroes as they release him and another person.

Later, he finds out that he's a clone of Batman and Superman, and the other clone is of Superman and Lex Luthor.

He came into this world expecting adventures, not a weird custody battle about him and his brother (because that's what Conner is) between two A-List superheroes.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #story prompt #dc x dp #phanfic #superman wants nothing to do with both of them #batman wins custody no problem #bruce now give clark a deathglare if the super even mentions one of the boys #constant sniping between superman and batman #until it eventually degrades their relationship so much they can't work together #culminates in one big verbal fight after another attempted planetary invasion #that ends with batman just losing it and #in a very calm voice that's totally out of place from his earlier growling #“if i'd known my best friend was the type of man who would target a child for the sins of their parents i might have chosen to be alone.”#verbally slaps clark #and that's how clark agrees to go to therapy

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

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"His best man" 😭 god I love that fic so much. Thanks for pt 2!

I can't help my dramatic ass and imagine how James would indirectly continue to ruin her life. Just think about it, after he leaked the news fans, media and everyone is obsessed with them and air they breath. They would give them 0 privacy and at some point she would loose the baby right after she starts shoving because she's too stressed and overwhelmed

It’s such a tough one because I can totally see the dramatic climax of this in the plot but it’s also very hard to write in a way that remains sensitive to the fact that unlike these fictional stories, miscarriages are very real and unfortunately all too common.

I am happy to write this if the general consensus is welcome to the idea 💕

#ollie answers #vote #his best man #tw: miscarriage #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic

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mokulule · 7 months

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A Man has Needs part 1

This will hopefully be a short thing, maybe three or four parts. Silly with a small dash of angst for flavor. Also someone needs to stop me from starting new stories, instead of indulging my insanity.

Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)

It had been an exhausting Friday, people were out celebrating the weekend and payday both. To top it off it was prime petty crime weather too with no rain. It was a patrol that would never end. Crime Alley had really lived up to its name tonight.

Jason was exhausted. Not because anything had been particularly challenging or dangerous, but it had just been one very long night of constant stupid little crimes.

It was five in the morning and his bed was calling him. He’d already stashed his gear in storage on the roof and he was so close to being home he could practically feel the soft sheets, the promise of sleep. The open bathroom window was a bother when he was this tired. Maybe he should have just gone down to the street and walked in the door, but keys also seemed like such a bother right now and more stairs… No, window was fine, he was in.

Bed. Now.

He bumped into something outside the bathroom door. Fuzzily he looked down to see a moving box - odd. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, he’d deal with that in the morning. Bed, comfort, safe.

He stumbled into the bedroom when it turned out the door wasn’t properly shut just pushed mostly closed.

Okay check list. Boots off. What else? Pants off, shirt off. He’d pick up in the morning. Did he forget anything? Toothbrush. He glanced backwards halfheartedly, he’d already left the bathroom; bed was right there.

The bed won. Tomorrow he would deal with teeth.

Tomorrow…

He crawled under the sheets. Warm and nice and safe and mmmmh he snuggled closer to the source, breathing in mint and something biting like frosty morning air. His nose buried into soft short hair and breathed in deep again. Good. Amazing. Safe. Sated.

Sleep.

Oo o oO

Danny turned and stretched with a yawn. He frowned when something held him into place. Must have gotten himself caught in the sheets again. It wasn’t a problem, he just slipped away intangibly, rolling to the edge of the bed to reach blindly for the night table.

Where was the phone? It took him a moment but finally it connected with his hand.

He groaned when he saw the time, it was nearly midday. Jazz would frown at him for already messing his sleep schedule up, but he’d just wanted to get as much set up in his apartment as possible, that had to be an okay excuse? He turned back on his back and looked at the light dancing across the ceiling from the light breeze moving the curtains. Okay time to get up. He had another day of unpacking today.

He got out and stretched absently. He turned around intending to make his bed if only to look responsible for when Jazz would come later to see the apartment.

He turned and promptly clapped his hands over his mouth to contain the frightened scream.

There was a guy in his bed! How was there a guy in his bed?! Ancients, what the fuck?!

Wait.

Danny tilted his head, eyes trailed down the muscular and scarred back, to a well shaped butt, which the tight boxers did very little to hide, and then those thighs!

There was a hot guy in Danny’s bed!

Focus Danny. He shook his head and slapped himself for good measure. That wasn’t what was important right now - though those thighs… Ancients, Danny would happily die again crushed by them.

No!

What was important was somehow there was a (hot) stranger in his bed. Danny had not invited him, of that he was sure. He had been unpacking yesterday, there had been no consumption of ghost zone alcohol yesterday, which could otherwise explain the lack of memory.

Which meant the guy had for some reason entered Danny’s apartment and slept with him - in the boring ordinary sense, Danny lamented this fact quietly for a moment.

Danny wasn’t surprised he hadn’t woken up, he slept, well, like the dead. The only thing that would wake him was very loud noises (like his alarm or his Dad’s inside voice) or occasionally his ghost sense.

It wasn’t even that Danny was surprised to find a bedmate. It was rare that Danny slept alone these days. He was, no matter how you put it, a very powerful ghost and he gave off a lot of good concentrated ambient ectoplasm.

Sometime last year the blobs and animal ghosts in Amity had started to join him every now and then when he slept. According to Frostbite it wasn’t so strange. They fed on the energy he gave off and also benefitted from his presence, which apparently radiated safety.

At first he’d been woken up by his ghost sense every time, but he’d gotten to a point where he just subconsciously dismissed the sense when the ghosts in question didn’t have ill intentions.

So Danny wasn’t surprised he wasn’t alone. He’d expected a bit more time to pass before whatever weak ghosts might be around figured out he was here, but you don’t wake up six days out of seven with cuddly animal ghosts in your bed and get surprised by it.

No, Danny was surprised by the fact that it was a guy. A human. A person. With muscled arms and- Oh, Danny realized cheeks heating up, that probably hadn’t been the sheets he’d been stuck in earlier.

Danny covered his face with his hands and groaned in despair.

Why was there a guy in his bed? Why couldn’t there be a guy in his bed for normal reasons? Danny would have brought this guy to his bed for normal bringing a guy to bed reasons.

He crawled onto the bed intending to wake the stranger, but as he reached out for the guy’s shoulder he turned leaning into the touch and sighed like the weight of the world had just lifted off his shoulders.

Danny was frozen, staring at the point of contact. He could sense it now: the man’s malnourished ghost core.

Danny swallowed thickly, suddenly seeing the many scars on the man’s back in a different light and that pure white streak in the otherwise black hair, it all seemed so obvious now.

The man was a halfa, or halfa adjacent. Because that was definitely warm human flesh underneath Danny’s hand.

So incredibly, unbelievably, absurdly this was essentially the same situation as usual, except not at all, because this was a person. Humanoid ghosts and ghosts with human-like or above intelligence didn’t do this. There were social conventions in place and not to mention they were usually powerful enough on their own to not need the ectoplasm.

But this guy was malnourished. He probably never had a good stable source of ectoplasm to properly develop his metabolism. Also to Danny’s metaphysical senses he smelled like he’d done the ghostly equivalent of dumpster diving to survive. Danny’s ectoplasmic aura had to be like the siren call of a buffet table.

Shit.

New plan. Danny was not gonna embarrass the poor guy. The situation was weird enough as it was. Danny was just gonna act like this was normal. Danny woke up with guests practically every day.

This was a person, not an animal, therefore petting was out of the question, so coffee.

Coffee was normal to offer guests. Also Danny needed coffee. He nodded to himself in satisfaction and floated off the bed to enter his combined kitchen and living room. The coffee machine was the first thing he got set up yesterday, clearly smart of past Danny.

It wouldn’t be long before his guest awoke with Danny no longer in the room to supply passive ectoplasm.

Maybe his human stomach wanted food too?

Oo o oO

Jason woke up with his head and nose buried in a pillow that smelled wonderful and comfortable somehow. He breathed in deep, catching mint and that biting cold he vaguely remembered from last night. Now, however he wasn’t dead on his feet, he was awake, more rested than he remember feeling for a long time and his brain connected the details into very alarming facts:

This was not his pillow. This was not his bed.

He sat up, quickly taking in the bare white walls and the stack of emptied and flattened moving boxes leaning against the wall next to a built-in closet.

This was very much not his apartment.

There was a noise of a cupboard clanging shut and Jason’s head snapped to the door that was open just a crack; he was not alone.

Shit.

He jumped out of bed, bending his knees upon impact to soften the sound. He needed to leave. Where was his clothes? His gaze darted around and he hurried to pick up his discarded items of clothing as he found them. Somehow one of his boots had ended up under the bed.

Quickly he pulled on the jeans and the shirt, was he wearing a jacket yesterday? He didn’t remember. Boots on and then he was going out the window- except there was the scent of coffee and something in the air. What was that smell?

He found himself moving to the door instead. The door squeaked as he pulled it open and he froze, hand still on the door handle, when the sound drew the attention of the young man in the kitchen.

His hair was black and sleep tousled, he had a slender athletic build and as he walked around the kitchen island bearing two cups it became apparent he was just wearing boxers. Jason’s inspection ended on his legs, which were admittedly very nice. When he looked back up he found the man standing a cautious distance away and a cute pink blush stretched all the way from his cheeks to his chest. Sky blue eyes looked up a him from underneath slightly frowning brows.

“So, you’re awake,” the man opened with an admirable attempt at a smile considering the situation. There was a beat of silence in which Jason grasped for what to even say, then the man reached his hand forward offering one of the cups, “coffee?”

There were many a thing Jason could say or should say. Like, what the fuck? You’re just gonna offer the guy who broke into your apartment coffee? Or, I’m sorry I broke into your apartment (and bed!)? And, why do you sleep with your windows open and unlocked? This is freaking Crime Alley! Or, what is it that smells so good?

What he actually said was a quiet, “yes, please.”

The cup was warm in his hands as he sipped it. And clearly this was enough for the cute guy because his smile turned more real and he nodded to himself and walked back to the kitchen counter. Jason really hoped that didn’t mean the coffee was poisoned.

“Feel free to take a seat. I hope you like pop tarts, it’s kinda all that I have at the moment.” As if summoned the toaster made a swish noise popping up the tarts. Hesitantly Jason sat down at the small square table paired with two mismatched foldable chairs. He really should turn and jump out a window. There had to be some kind of reckoning coming. Maybe the guy really cared about hospitality and Jason would be questioned after the food? Maybe that’s what was going on.

But also strangely his gut was telling him he was safe here? He really had no clue what to do with that.A paper plate with a pop tart was set down in front of him and after setting down his own pop tart and coffee the man joined him.

Jason was supremely aware of the few inches between their knees. This wasn’t a large table after all and if he moved just slightly they would be touching. But why would he want them to be touching? Why was it so tempting?

Jason clenched his hands firmly and stared down at the pop tart, with an intensity born of the fact that for some reason he had to focus on not knocking knees with a stranger.

“You look at that poor pop tart as if you think it’s gonna explode, that’s not actually what pop tart means, you know.”

Jason looked up at the guy in disbelief.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “yeah that was terrible I know.”

Silence stretched between them and clearly embarrassed the guy hastily took a sip of his coffee and a bite of his pop tart avoiding Jason’s gaze.

Guilt twisted in Jason’s chest, not only did he invade his home he was also making him uncomfortable. His only comfort was the fact that the guy clearly wasn’t afraid of him.

Jason started eating the pop tart. For whatever the reason breakfast was part of the script the guy had decided on to make an attempt at normalcy. What else was Jason to do? He hadn’t fled when he had the chance and-

Oh-

The guy had shifted in his chair, one of their knees were touching, there was a spark and it felt like something uncurled inside him, a weight lifted. Jason blinked. This was…Mint and frost was a sting in his nose, a fullness in his chest. Goose bumps ran along his arms, and it tingled all the way to his fingertips.

Jason snapped his head up, but the guy was just looking at his phone sipping his coffee. As if he couldn’t feel the cold electricity between them. There was no way he could sit like that if he felt it? Was Jason just imagining it? He shuddered and moved slightly, just enough that they weren’t touching and instantly he regretted it. The wave of longing was almost enough to make his vision black out.

The guy looked up with a frown. “You okay, man?”

“Fine,” Jason said hoarsely, desperately focusing on the half eaten pop tart and taking another bite.

When the pop tarts were eaten and the cups emptied the man stood and Jason matched him. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected to happen at this point but it certainly wasn’t the guy, to walk over to his front door with a casual, “well I should get ready for the day.”It was a clear dismissal. An out for the whole strange situation. Jason stood up and walked over to the door.

The guy opened the door letting Jason out with a short electrifying clap on the back and a “Take care, man.”

Jason was left standing outside the door to the previously empty apartment 4A, several floors below Jason’s own top floor apartment. How did he ever mistake it for his own?

What was the deal with the guy’s touch and why did Jason crave it so desperately?

Unsettled. he started walking towards the stairwell. As he moved further away from the apartment the pull to go back lessened. It was still there, but it was replaced quickly by something else.

He felt rested, energized in a way he hadn’t felt in a long while. There was an urge to do something. He felt like he could take on the world - maybe even Sunday dinner at the manor tomorrow.

Jason laughed. Wouldn’t that surprise everyone?

He was so caught up in the euphoria of productivity and social interactions that didn’t go sour for the next couple of days, that he completely forgot about the strange Saturday morning.

If you liked this consider telling me your thoughts in the replies or tags, it is motivating. Now to hopefully write a bit on Catnip. Edit: Masterpost now up if you wanna subscribe

#dp x dc #dead on main #a man has needs #Danny is trying his best to pretend this is normal #and okay #Jason has no clue whatsoever.

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