#kiwi back at their bullshit | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maxiemclaren · 30 days

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can u do angst abt liam finding out he was rejected from vcarb and reader comforting him

Reservations

Warnings - Angst, Self doubt, slight panic attack, fluff

Pairings - Liam Lawson x fem!reader

Summary - Getting rejected by VCARB and needing to be comforted.

a/n - I just wanna give this Kiwi a hug! Enjoy.

2023

One would think getting a call to fill in for an injured team member would help get a foot in the door for full time racing in an F1 seat. Well…That’s where you’re wrong, only competing in 5 races that season. Your boyfriend was over the moon when he finally got a chance to race in an F1 car during a part of the 2023 season. Having high hopes of the team making the switch for him to be a full time driver, he had treated you to fine dining and luxurious presents for a period of time, until the honeymoon phase was over. Because all it was filling in.

Winter Break 2023/2024

Even though on average he placed higher, the team just wanted to keep Daniel for the upcoming season. It wasn’t that Liam was a bad driver, it’s just that the team wasn’t sure if they wanted to switch to a full time seat just yet. After all, the team just had a revamp, changing the name to Visa Cash App Racing Bulls, having a new CEO and team principal. Liam was called into a meeting back at the factory, getting excited knowing that they will have their own discussion about the driver lineup.

He left the factory in the worst mood possible, not calling you on the way home like he normally did, not texting you to let you know he was out of the meeting, so there was no hope and knowledge to brace yourself for a very angry Liam.

Sitting at the island in your kitchen doing some work, you nearly jump out of your skin when you hear the front door open and slam shut with a loud “Fuck! It’s fucking bullshit!” from a voice you know all too well. Closing your laptop you go and meet the very frustrated sounding boy.

Approaching him with calm energy you ask “Hey baby, are you okay? Is there anything you wanna talk about?” not wanting to further upset or frustrate him but wanting to let him know that you’re here for him. He looks at you, eyes locking onto yours, and then that’s when you see it. All the pain and frustration he is feeling, he goes to speak but his voice fails him and tears start to stream down his face. Immediately you close him in a hug holding him tight, you hear a change in his breathing as it sounds more rapid and suddenly he has pushed you off him as the contact is too much for him. You notice that he’s starting to shake and hyperventilate “Liam, baby it’s okay, you are home, you are with me right now. Let’s do some deep breathing, yeah?” you say to him in the hopes it calms him down from the panic attack.

“Four, three, two, one” you both say in unison as Liam has calmed down from the panic attack, you carefully sit there awaiting to see if he wants to share what had happened. “I guess I kind of need to explain what just happened” Liam says, rubbing the back of his neck. As he explained how the meeting went at the factory you couldn’t help but notice the digs he threw at himself like saying he was “incompetent, has a lack of talent, naive, and an overall shit driver”. Hearing enough of him tear himself apart you grab him and allow him to lean against you, “Now you listen to me sir. You are not incompetent, naive, a shit driver, and you have loads of talent. Just because they made a shit call does not mean you are anything less. For fucks sake you amaze me, there is no way I would be able to drive one of those cars and let alone score points” you say poking his cheek. He huffs out a laugh feeling a bit better than he did mere minutes ago.

For the next week you spoiled him, allowing him to stay in bed and cuddle with you as long as both your schedules would allow, making him his favorite meals, watching his favorite shows, etc. You decided that the both of you needed a little pick me up, so you booked a flight to LA so you could visit Lightning McQueen, his favorite character and what movie got him into racing (quoting the youtube video). “Oh baby, I have a surprise for you” you say in a sing-song way. “Hi love, what is it?” He asks you giving his full attention. “Well I know you’ve been wanting to go out but haven’t really known where to go, so I booked us flights to LA next week so we can meet Lightning McQueen!” you said excitedly. He leaped off the couch and spun you around as he peppered your face with kisses and kept repeating thank you’s.

Next week came faster than anyone could imagine and today was the day Liam would get to meet his idol. “I’m so nervous, why am I so nervous?” He asked you, “I’m not too sure, maybe because this is something you grew up with and your inner child is feeling healed and very joyful?” you answered honestly. After taking about two dozen pictures of him and Lightning McQueen. You both decide to head back to the hotel to relax while you are on vacation. Laying in your bed Liam rolls into your side and whispers in your ear “You know that you are the most amazing girlfriend anyone could ask for? Thank you for taking care of me through my rough patch” He said genuinely. You turn to face him and just smash your lips onto his, after a minute you look at him “Thank you, baby I know you would do the same for me so it’s only fair to be there for the highs and lows”. The both of you cuddle up and fall into deep sleeps both feeling so loved and cared for.

#formula 1 #formula one #f1 fanfic #liam lawson #liam lawson x reader #liam lawson x y/n #liam lawson x you

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rowretro · 5 months

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✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧

WARNINGS: Angst~

✧tag list✧:@chlorinecake @nikisdubblchococake @enhypensccstarlight @strwberrydinosaur @sunghoonsbeautymark @strawbsj (pls tell me if im missing any tags)

✧CHAPTER 13✧

“See Kyle? Lily Tucker-Pritchett character was adopted, yay! And she’s happy because she got adopted yay!” Riki said, cheering and clapping everytime he said the word adopted. The girl frowned a little as she sat beside him. “What’s this whole adoption thing about?” The girl asked as Riki turned to her. “Well in modern family, Cam came up with ways to make Lily feel good about being adopted yay!… you know the snooty french couple? Their daughter found out she’s adopted yay!, and she ran away… now she’s am illegal stripper…” The male trailed off.

Y/n snickered, patting his head “You are so cute you know?... well this just makes it harder for me to tell you what I wanted to tell you…” she trailed off as Riki frowned at her. “What is it?” he asked as the girl fumbled with her phone. “Babe…” He trailed off again as the girl turned to him, “Well the adoption yay! Agency called…” she trailed off as she looked at Kyle. Riki, already not liking where this was going, hugged Kyle closely “What did they say? What is it? Stop being so quiet y/n tell me!” he almost yelled as the girl sighed.

“Riki… Soobin and his wife aren’t the baby’s birth parents…” the girl trailed off as The male frowned at her “So?” he asked, snuggling Kyle closer than ever. “Turns out Soobin had kidnapped the baby from a much bigger family… a-and if they find the birth parents of Kyle… we might not be able to keep him anymore…” The girl continued as Riki stared down at Kyle.

“No! That’s all bullshit, when the baby was clearly staying in that hellhole of a house for what looked like almost a lifetime, but now they want to take the baby away from a happy, well off family?! What are they crazy??? Kyle is a human baby not a doll!” Riki exclaimed, as he covered the baby’s ears. Y/n sighed, rubbing his back as she kissed the baby’s forehead. “It’s only an if, I doubt they’d want him, after all these years, not a single complaint or attempt to find him, there’s no way they’ll steal him back…” She tried to reassure as Riki snuggled Kyle closely, his eyes meeting the baby’s innocent ones.

Suddenly, the girl’s phone went off, Riki turned to her as she answered the call, her eyes tearing up, throughout the call as she forced a formal smile, she hung up, and turned to Riki. “Ki…” she trailed off as Riki shook his head. “T-They found the family… they’re coming to take him now…” She continued, stunned at how quick they were to find the said family. “Riki… it’s another mafia family… we kind of don’t have another choice with this you know?” y/n added as Riki stared in shock. He was not having this… but he knew if he did anything, he could put all their lives at risk.

“Don’t fight it Kyle… this is the last time da- uncle Kiwi, gets to feed you…” Riki sighed as the baby whined, turning away from the spoon. The sound of the doorbell ringing made Riki freeze. The girl silently answered the door, met with Heeseung and Sunoo “I heard the news… so we came right over” Heeseung said as he patted the girl’s head. Shortly after their arrival, a Latino male, packed with weapons, under his perfectly patterned suit stood at the door, millions of cars behind him. “We’re here for the baby.” He coldly said as Riki sighed. He kissed Kyle’s forehead one last time, tears daring to leave his eyes. “The adoption center said we can take him so stop kissing my child and hand it over!” The man said, getting impatient.

Hearing the word adoption, baby Kyle clapped, smiling, “Nope I can’t fucking do this.” Riki said, crying, as he ran out of the building. Not wanting to put up with anymore bullshit, the Latino picked the baby up himself and carried him out despite his cries, and the way he reached out for y/n.

The girl tried to hold back her tears “MAMA” the baby screamed. She couldn’t hold them back anymore. She cried a waterfall, as she tried running after the baby, only to be pulled back harshly by his guards. How could she just leave him to get dragged away like that, when he finally called her his mother after so long?...

It was 1am. Not a sign of Riki. Worried, the girl left, to go find him, using the life 360 app, frowning as it led her to a forest area. An area where many hungry foxes roamed, some weighing and appearing to be a lot larger than large dogs. The girl sped over, as she let out an audible sigh of relief, seeing his car.

Parking right behind it. Y/n left her car, calling for Riki as she went deep inside. There she found her, lying down, staring up at the stars. The girl sighed as she went toward him. “Riki what are you doing here? There are so many foxes around this place, you know?!” the girl nagged as Riki continued staring up at the stars “so what?! Let them eat me.” He said.

The girl lay down beside him, glancing at him as he took his hand in hers. “His last words to me were mama…” the girl trailed off as Riki gripped her hand a little tighter “I don’t get it y/n… why can’t god just let me have something good for once, of course I have you and I love you, but why, why does he keep taking the people I love away from me?!” The male asked, crying.

Y/n sighed, crying as she turned over to him, snuggling into his chest “I know… I know it hurts so fucking bad love…but at least we have eachother… It’s ok to cry, just let it all out yeah?” y/n said as she hugged him tightly. After their crying fit, the 2 arrived home in the morning at 7 am Heeseung answered the door, sighing in relief “God you 2 scared us- what were you doing out so late?! Do you know what you missed?!” Heeseung asked as Riki blankly stared at him “The chance to raise my son? Yes I know” Riki said as Heeseung facepalmed.

“Look it’s your adoptive parents yay!” Sunoo cooed as y/n frowned, turning to him, the sound of a baby’s giggles and clapping filling the room. “KYLE!” Riki exclaimed, running over to the baby, snuggling him a little tightly. “Sun- hee- I- am I high?” the girl mumbled as Heeseung smacked her head “No- the latino dude hates babies, like 5 hours later, he came back with the baby, ripped up his documents, so basically you’re still Kyle’s adoptive parents.” Heeseung said as the girl squealed hugging Riki tightly as she kissed the baby nonstop.

✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧

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just-sarah--things · 10 months

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Alex and Henry fic prompt:

Henry references having shagged other famous boys. Once he’s been publicly outed the press and fan accounts become pretty convinced he was once secretively involved with a pop star and some of his most famous songs about love, heartbreak and sex were inspired by Henry. Alex gets self conscious listening to the old songs that are more explicit about what people assume is Henry’s body and sex life thinking that this pop star was a better lover than Alex himself because Henry is the only man he’s really been with. Alex says Henry is the best sex he’s ever had but isn’t sure if the same is true for Henry with him

Here we go... I tried my best and I Hope you Enjoy. Feel free to send Feed back, more requests, reblogs, likes, and shares. Sweet Creature

“Once unsuccessfully” These words have been floating around Alex’s head since the moment Henry had said them, and now Alex was finally ready to find out who.

“Hen, just tell me already.” Alex begs “Does it really matter Alex?” “No” he huffs “But I am curious” Alex looks at Henry with a big grin. This gets Henry to look up from his book, “Alex all that matters is that I love you and you are my life now.” “What if I guess.” Alex proposes Henry rolls his eyes and returns to his book “Sam Smith” “Robbie Williams” “Tom Daley” “James Blunt” “Lewis Gibson” Henry keeps his eyes focused on his book but continues to shake his head no that is until “Harry Styles” Henry Looks up and is frozen in place, he can’t believe that Alex actually started guessing and guessing correctly nonetheless. “No Fucking way” Alex mutters “It doesn't really matter Alex.” Henry States returning to his book. They spend the rest of the night lazing around the brownstone. Henry reading away and Alex trying to study but his mind can only focus on one thing. His Henry with Harry Styles. The next morning Alex wakes up earlier than Henry and decides he needs a run to clear his head. He mindlessly scrolls through Spotify to listen to during his run. His thumb lingers over the “This is Harry Styles” Playlist he hits shuffle and starts his run. He listens to the first couple songs without really thinking about it, that is until the song Golden starts playing . And when the lyric “I know that you're scared because hearts get broken” blares through his airpods. He knows this is about his Henry, or should he say Harry’s Henry. Alex shakes this thought and continues to run. Before he knows it he is listening to the lyrics again and hears the song Kiwi and can’t help but think about Henry and the lyric “and all the boys saying they were into such a pretty face on a pretty neck… hard candy dripping on me till my feet are wet, and now he’s all over me…” and the next song that plays only makes Alex more self conscious about his performances in bed. Only Angel is now playing and he can only Imagine Mr. Styles writing the lyric “That he's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see

When it turns out he's a devil in between the sheets And there's nothing he can do about it.” Alex has had it with this Harry Styles Bullshit. He is running as fast as he can back to the brownstone. Just as he is coming up the walkway to the house one last song catches his attention. Falling now floats softly through his ears as he takes a seat on the front stoop. The opening lyric stops him dead in his tracks. “I'm in my bed, And you're not here, And there's no one to blame but the drink in my wandering hands.” And in that instant Alex realizes that Mr. Styles cheated on Henry, Sweet Perfect Loving Henry, his Henry. And while some of his insecurities slip away because he knows he will never want anyone but Henry and if he did change his mind he would never in a million years think about cheating on him. When Alex walks in he sees Henry is up, already reading his book and sipping on some tea. Alex gives him a kiss on the head and mutters something about running to clear his head and that he needs to shower. Henry decides not to ask to join him and just nods in agreement knowing he will be back soon. Soon turns into ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty, forty five and at the Hour mark Henry goes to investigate. When he walks in the bedroom he sees Alex blankly staring at the ceiling and dried tears on his cheeks, and he knows something is bothering Alex but he isn't sure how to breach the subject. At first he leans in the doorway fiddling with his ring just waiting to see if Alex will notice his presence. When he doesn't Henry clears his voice and Alex is startled to see him there. Alex is Confused all over again. How can someone as wonderful as Henry go from being with (dating? he wonders) Harry Styles to just Alex plain old Alex.

“Hi” Henry finally mutters, breaking the silence between each of them.

“I think we need to talk,” Henry says. Alex just nods because what can he say. How can he compete with him?“I have a feeling I know what's on your mind but, can you please let me in that beautiful head of yours?” “How are you even satisfied with me? I hardly knew who I was when our relationship started let alone know what I was doing in our bedroom. How can I compete with someone who called you a devil in the sheets. How do you want plain old Alex when you can have a world famous pop sensation or anyone for that matter.” “Oh Alex, You are not just some plain old Alex. You are Alex Clairmont-Diaz, a mouthful, but you are mine and I wouldn’t change a thing.” “But-” Alex starts “No buts, I am flattered you think those songs are about me, and maybe they are but I only know for a fact that one of them is.” “Is it-” “I walked in on him, he was with someone else.” Henry finishes “Baby, I am so sorry.” “That’s what makes you more than just Alex, you have honesty, honor, and integrity. And to me that means more than what any super star can provide. Plus you are the best I’ve ever been with.” “How so?” Alex questions “It's different when you are with someone you love and someone that loves you back.”

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #prince henry rwrb #rwrb movie #henry and alex #alex clairmont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #prince henry duke of gloucester #ask #ask me about it #ask away #fan fic writing #fanfic #first prince #history huh #rwrbsource

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lohstandfound · 6 hours

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I don't know if this is ever going to leave the drafts (if anyone sees this, you can tell I've just said fuck it) but I have many thoughts on bmc but if it was in new Zealand. Or if some of the characters were Māori. Is it largely bullshit? Yeah. Do I care? No. The concept has been swimming around my head for ages I just finally need to get it out

First off. Armageddon. Michael and Jeremy are going every year. In cosplay. Pre Squip Rich would have too. Armageddon = convention.

Anyway, Chloe and Jake as being Māori. Well. Undecided on Chloe, but if she were she would have the pukana down to an art.

This is where projection comes in with Jake. Jake pretends a lot, deflects his own feelings. Let's add in a small identity crisis but making him a white-passing Māori who doesn't know where he whakapapas too. He knows he's Māori but with his parents not encouraging it as he gets older and then just leaving, he's lost the only real tie to who he is and if he doesn't know who he is then what's the point in trying to forge that connection himself when he has no idea where to start. The language that he grew up learning is foreign to him. There's a hole that he just can't fill and there are options for him to take but he won't. After all, who would believe him if he tried to stake his claim?

Speaking of Jake, he's head boy material. If he's not head boy, he's house captain. He'd hold records for athletics and swimming sports.

I don't think this was a universal NZ high school experience, but my high school had a parables competition (yay! go Catholic school! /sarcasm) which was basically each house did a short play that was lovely based on a parable and full of jokes and references. This has Christine written all over it.

(speaking of Catholic education, I do occasionally think about the concept of Jake being raised Catholic. He'd have top marks in religious studies but god he'd be even deeper in the closet)

Brooke and Michael both take art. Michael falls victim to the 'term 4 rush to complete the art portfolio because you spent the whole year procrastinating' curse and rushing to put something together. Brooke has it done in plenty of time. One year, Michael finished his portfolio right before it had to be packed up and sent away.

Brooke makes it to the excellence exhibition for her level three portfolio

Chloe is the type of girl to get all her clothes from Glassons

A while ago I made a post about Jake shopping at Factorie, which I don't think is around anymore. But I walked past it once and everything was brightly coloured and fluorescent

Chloe and Brooke have matching Pandora bracelets. I don't think that's strictly a kiwi thing but they absolutely would

Speaking of Brooke and Chloe, we have no Pinkberry. My town used to have Kiwiberry, so I guess that's the equivalent?? Or they go to Tank and get smoothies.

Christine participates in Summer Shakespeare, or the Sheilah Winn Shakespeare Festivals.

I don't think much would really change plot wise. Jeremy buys his Squip in the back of a Kmart. Not sure where Michael's getting his vintage fizzy from. Jake's 100% an over achiever. They're all likely to be wearing school uniforms, and Jake would 100% have a blazer (if he can't have a letterman, he gets a school blazer. It's close enough). My only thing is that school productions (in my experience and observations) happen in the middle of the year? Before Halloween. And if they're juniors in high school, then I would assume they would be like year 12. So that's really getting to the time of year where they have like a week or two left of school because exams start in November. So the climax of the play and Jake's Halloween party don't line up.

The only way I can think of it working is starting, like, the year before? Midway through the plot is when the cast would join the play. Jake's party could just be a regular house party during the term breaks. Or, y'know, I could be completely wrong regarding the timings of school productions. But exams do start in November so the characters wouldn't really be in school.

Unless the squip tries to hijack prize giving which would really be an odd choice.

(i actually took a look at when some of the local high schools do their shows and scratch all that, it could work out since they do their shows in march which would mean they probably would start preparing the year before? im not 100% sure considering that is a lot of time for a show- maybe too much. most of the theatre i did during high school was not at school. the theatre i did at school aligned more with a musical but put most of the focus on dancing rather than plot. anyway, those happened in like september)

(im putting way too much thought into the logistics for the plot of a silly little musical that takes place in new jeresy)

Jake's that kid that needs help carrying all his awards and trophies off the stage at prize giving.

If I were to assign them house colours, Jake and Michael are obviously red, Chloe is blue, Rich is green, Brooke is yellow. Not sure about Jeremy, Christine, or Jenna. Are houses a thing in us schools?

Christine becomes performing arts committee leader, Chloe becomes the social committee leader who plans the school ball (Brooke and Jenna are also on the committee).

Chloe is a netball girlie. All the girls who you could possibly think of as the mean girls all played netball

(and they all had platinum blonde hair too...)

Jake, Brooke, Rich and Chloe all have lunch bordering on the out of bounds area, where teachers don't often pass. Jeremy and Michael have a classroom. Michael gets his slushies from the school tuck shop.

Chloe did Kapa Haka as a kid. Undecided whether or not she still does in high school.

Jake gets an excellence endorsement in every subject because of course he does

#lohst.txt #from the void #like. half of these things probably arent only kiwi things #but whatever #this is my self indulgent post i can do what i want #this was just an excuse to mention maori!jake again #im too many years out of high school to remember it right #and even then i went to a Catholic school so my experience is even slightly more skewed #i wish i got to see the production in new Zealand a few years ago

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ronearoundblindly · 2 years

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Eighty-Third Time's the Charm (3)

CEO!Steve x assistant!Reader

Balance (see previous or series)

Summary: At Steve's suggestion, you get an assistant of your own...right before a huge event.

Warnings: light angst, some language, miscommunication, possibly poor editing WC 2.3k

Topaz is a very nice lady and all, but what the fuck is she doing at American Capsules?!

Ok, well, Topaz is…not exactly nice. She’s got an attitude that could drown fish in the sea and a resting face that could curdle milk. She is, however, magnificently efficient. After only a week, you’ve grown so fond of her thick Kiwi accent barking at you to go home or go out to drinks that you find your cheeks hurting from smiling.

The thing you don’t understand though: does Steve think you can’t handle this job on your own anymore? You’ve been fine for three whole years without help. Yes, the company has grown consistently in that time, but a point of pride for you has been setting up most departments to run steady and necessary communications through you (and between themselves) to minimize Steve’s time dealing with minor fires instead of the big-picture stuff. This was done on purpose. In theory, you’ve got less impending work to do day-to-day now than you did when you started.

So why, why, is Topaz here?!

You talk poor Pepper’s ear off about it in the dressing room of an extremely fancy designer boutique while trying on potential dresses for an upcoming fundraiser hosted by Stark.

“I don’t think you need to worry about it so much,” Pep offers, smoothing the slinky blue gown over her hips. “Maybe he really is just trying to lessen your burden.”

“Why is Rogers suddenly thinking of my burden? That might have been helpful that spring he decided all transport would be carbon neutral within sixty days before pissing off the Bermuda with Stark—ugh, I’m not sure about this one,” you sigh, pulling the heavy velvet curtain back. “I look like I’m naked.”

Pep’s face lights up. “Buy it,” she says immediately and flatly, “because if you don’t I’m buying it for you.” She straightens her posture and smiles. “It’s on Tony’s account, for my birthday he missed.”

“No, that’s not necessary. It’s just…”

One shade away from your skin tone? Too booby? The most flattering thing you’ve ever seen on your body? Yeah, it is. That’s the magic of this silky cut and draping.

Pepper cocks an eyebrow. “Yes,” she mutters, “you’ll need some jewelry, too.”

It’s one afternoon when you’ve had to put out more fires than usual and Topaz is pressing for an explanation of what’s happening that you snap.

“It will take longer to tell you than to just do it. Please, give me a second.”

Your assistant is insistent though. “Well, how the hell am I supposed to take over for ya if you won’t let me learn,” Topaz complains between phone calls.

Your eyes go wide, and your jaw drops.

Whipping around in your chair, you stomp to Steve’s office without a second thought and throw open the door.

“You’re fucking replacing me,” you scream at the startled man sitting atop the edge of his desk.

He stands at attention so fast that his pant leg gets caught on the corner, and he grabs at the run while you close more distance.

“I work for you twenty-four-seven for like one thousand days, and this is how you repay me? You make me train my own replacement?” You’re so stunned and enraged that your arms go up, indicating every piece of art on the walls, every bit of furniture, all of it which you chose for him. “Steve, I have done EVERYTHING for you except get your dick wet, but god knows, that’s what you have Stark for. You asshole!”

Then you get in his face. “I understand that you think you are some high and mighty, super-savvy business man who can do no wrong because money is the root of all power or some bullshit, but this—“ you poke your finger into the chest of his impeccably tailored suit “—is a shitty thing to do.”

Lowly, after the adrenaline ebbs over the cliff edge, you finish, “I thought you were better than this.”

Steve stands dumb-founded before reaching out a hand, but it’s not towards you.

“I’mma call you back, ma.”

“You do that, dear,” Sarah Rogers chirps with what might be the faintest chuckle before Steve cuts off the line.

His eyes remain fixed on yours while his head turns. “Topaz,” he calls, “could you shut the door, please.”

“What an excellent idea, sir,” the woman drawls, with heavy judgment, before obliging.

Steve blinks for the first time since you barged in and offers you a seat. You staunchly refuse.

He starts with your name—your first name—and suddenly you’re sure this is it; you’re about to be fired from the first job you’ve ever actually loved. Maybe you should sit down, but your legs won’t move.

“So I hate to admit that this…wasn’t my idea, but the plan was to—ok, Tony let slip the other day that he plans to name Ms. Potts his CEO.”

You make a questioning face and scowl. “Good for her. What, so you planned to pimp me out as his assistant, too?”

“Oh my god—“ Steve rushes forward to grasp your shoulders before thinking better of it and dropping his hands to his pockets “—no. NO. No, I just didn’t want to make it seem like I stole his—right, no, I was hoping that once Topaz is trained and can take over for you that you’d be my co-CEO.”

“What the hell.”

It’s not a question because there’s too much blood rushing to your face to comprehend any answer given.

“See, it’s just now occurring to me that this looks bad, and that’s probably why I should always run ideas by you first.” Steve runs his hand through his hair nervously. “So if you think about it, this kinda proves my point, and uh, even though I’m gonna need to explain that to my mother, I feel pretty confident in the plan still.”

What the hell. Your brain can’t process both the flattery and the mortification at the same time, and you collapse into one of the ergonomic leather chairs facing Steve’s desk, mouth agape for who knows how long before finally responding.

“I see.”

Yeah, that’s all you’ve got.

“Right, well—“ he takes up residence in the other chair and leans forward as close as he can “—I know that the workload for your current position means you don’t get to see your family very often, and I’ll understand if you’d just like to stay at this level with Topaz to help out. That’s fine. That’ll work, too, but you step in and help with my actually job so much that the title might not be much of a difference in what you already do…

“You still with me over there?”

“What? Yes.” You’d zoned out looking through the windows in disbelief. “I…I’ll need to think about it.”

“Of course,” Steve says, standing and fixing his jacket. “I—I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought—“

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, making a b-line for the door as quickly as possible, unable to meet his eye. “I’m going to step away for lunch for a minute, but—“ get out, get out, get out “—Topaz will—“ get out right now “—be here.”

You just barely glance back as you slide back over the threshold. Steve stands with the smallest, fondest smile on his face.

Get the fuck out right now. Go, go, go.

“Sir,” you nod one last time and watch his smile grow. You smile, too, but only on the other side of the door.

You still haven’t decided what to do by the time Topaz is ready for a test run. At Steve’s suggestion, you take a few days off to visit your parents, and if anything is truly needed, Topaz can get in touch.

“A dry run, if you will,” Steve said, “plus I know where to find you in case of real emergency.”

It’s dumb that you thought about him showing up on your parents’ doorstep your whole plane ride there, right? It’s awful that you eagerly anticipated texts from either of them, isn’t it? It’s sad that you pictured drunk-Steve, curled up like he was on your hotel bed, more than once in your childhood home, maybe?

Yes, but that doesn’t stop you. In fact, you don’t receive a single text, email, or voicemail from your boss the entire trip except one message after you land in New York again.

S. Rogers: see you at the gala. Topaz and I did great!

So your triumphant return (and Topaz’s magnificent success) culminates in Stark’s fundraiser. Pepper shares her town car to the venue with you. She’s just come from having a stylist do her hair and makeup, a special treat for herself, and she did offer to have you join. You weren’t prepared for all the fuss. It made things feel too important when you are essentially a wallflower for an event with actual celebrities and rich people—very rich people.

Exiting your apartment, you felt nice, but when you see all the perfectly coifed patrons on the actual red carpet, you deflate.

“Mind if I go around the back, Pep?”

She’d disappointed, of course, but she would never want to make you more uncomfortable. Before you wisk yourself away with your silky train behind you, she is sure to mention that your dress really is gorgeous and you wear it like a champ.

“Just know you’re a natural,” she whispers, grasping your hand gently over your bejeweled clutch.

She’s so genuine it makes you blush. See, now, she will make a great CEO.

“Meet you inside,” you wink.

A lot of the banquet and catering staff for these events work with both Stark Industries and American Capsule regularly, so you walk by many familiar faces and receive a gentle chorus of hellos to “Señorita Cappy.” You smile shyly and feel just as on-display as you would with the press outside. You can’t remember the last time you showed this much skin.

The service elevator is packed with waiters, but everyone smiles at each other. There’s a moment of camaraderie, a fortifying breath before every single person including you has to put on a performance.

The staff motion for you to exit first, but you blame your dress and say you’ll wait till last. They don’t argue—bless them—because you need the few extra seconds to be ready.

You missed work the last few days. You missed the rush and the routine and the challenge and the chaos. You missed…

Nope. Just take a deep breath. Step out. Drop the train of fabric and walk.

You think back to how you looked in the mirror at the boutique when you first tried this on, conjuring up that confidence without a reflection around you. Doesn’t hold all that well, so you pop into the ladies’ room to pat some cold water on your flushed chest. Then you can see. Then you can smile. Your hair and makeup look just how you wanted, and if you’d gone to a professional, it may have looked too overdone for the simplicity of the rest. Delicate, single-strand gold earrings frame a bare neckline, and since you don’t have rings to wear, Pepper suggested a thin, golden charm bracelet.

Maybe you should have chosen differently. Sometimes, when you turn your head too far to the side, an earring tickles across your collarbone, reminding you that there’s just these three millimeter straps holding the whole getup.

Too late now. Don’t sweat. Ugh.

You slurp some cool water from your cupped palm and blot your lipstick once more.

Go time, damn it. You think of your dad cheering his favorite sports team, hearing his ‘go get ‘em, tiger’ loudly in your mind. That makes you excited. You’ve got this.

You plaster on a soft smile to walk by the main elevators where a thin sea of guests pool. You get a few glances and nods. You’ve been in meetings with about a quarter of the men here, and they seem to notice that.

Your neck tenses absently as you round the corner into the solid wood ballroom, and there’s no buffer. Steve Rogers is just right in front of you. He’s all you can see. Even with the nearly fifty feet between you two, you’re sure there wasn’t a second that his eyes weren’t already on you.

He stands shoulder to shoulder with Tony by the bar, lips parted but unmoving as Stark rambles and sips his scotch.

You can’t even see the blue of his eyes. You’re pinned in place.

He mouths—well, he probably says it but you can’t hear—an ‘excuse me’ to Tony and makes his way towards you, a pristine velvet tux jacket stretched across his frame like a sin.

You grin at his approach. You couldn’t stop if you tried, but it catches across his face, too.

When he’s close, Steve swings his arm out.

“You look—“

Oh god, this must be the most inappropriately scandalous dress. You shouldn’t have listened to Pepper. She can pull this off. You’ve never tried. Why would you pick today to test it out?

“—spectacular,” Steve finishes, dragging his gaze all the way to the floor before closing the last few feet between you. His hand snakes a few gentle inches across your barely covered waist to draw himself near. He kisses your cheek. “Just marvelous, doll.” He pulls back and with less than an ounce of pressure against his fingers, he holds you in suspense.

“Welcome home.”

Well f*** me, gang. This is gonna be a lot longer than three parts, and I've decided as a series, it will be called "It Had to Be You." Damn if I'm not loving the shit outta these two though.

[Next Part] Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi

dividers by @firefly-graphics

#steve rogers fic #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve x you #series #it had to be you #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #modern au #ceo!steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader fluff #assistant!reader

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britts-galaxy-brain · 6 months

Note

I’m not Lily TERF. Courtney’s video with Poppy is off YouTube. Nobody with a platform will listen to you, because you’re a Kiwi Farmer. The only person backed into the corner is you. You can keep insisting that every person who calls you out is secretly Lily, but it’s not going to change anything.

I don't think everyone who calls me out is secretly Lily. Just the ones who type exactly like her, use the exact same buzzwords, and are uniquely bad at creating a coherent narrative. Also, once again, you are one of THREE PEOPLE who knows my KF username and could look up my post history. Two of those people already know, and fucking hate you. So that just leaves you being the only person who could pull specifics from my post history.

Poppy took down Courtney's video because she got called out for being a sex pest and not being given total control of Courtney's dscord server. She's trying to hide her own bullshit.

People with bigger platforms aren't interested because you're small potatoes, and you're a fucking labrynthian void of bullshit. Nobody has wanted to tackle wading through the levels of your fucked up internet history.

If the only thing you have on me is the fact that I've posted about specifically you on KiwiFarms 40 times within a year, you're not getting the own on me you think you are. But keep telling yourself whatever helps you sleep at night.

I may have been on KF for a very short time, but at least I'm not out here exposing children to incest and rape allegories. What's your excuse?

#lily orchard

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songwings · 2 years

Photo

(Vesta) hi!!!! long time no see! ve’ve been busy with college classes and one of them is bookbinding so of course i drew up a wandersong zine!!! serrano did the sketches i added the extra jazz

Image description:

A black-and-white comic featuring Kiwi and Miriam in Chismest, where it is snowing.

It feels so cold and desolate as the bard slumbers on the chilly bench, dressed in their cape and hat... then a familiar voice calls out to them. “Kiwi?”

They look up and see Miriam standing in front of them, her arms crossed. And they immediately sit up, excited to see her. “Oh! Mim! Hi!”

“Save the bullshit. You barely even like this city, don’t you? Why are you still trying?”

Kiwi gives her a weary smile. “You know why...”

“Yeah. It’s really annoying just how stubborn you are,” Miriam murmurs as she goes to sit down next to her friend, wearing that same grumpy expression as always. But then... her face softens and she leans onto Kiwi’s shoulder.

“It’s... nice having a home,” she says. “People care about you. Neither of us had that before...

I... was so mean to you. And you shrugged it off. I didn’t think you thought of me as a... friend. Not until you said-”

“I love you!” Kiwi chimes in with a genuine smile, blushing under the chilly air.

“Yeah,” the witch replies. She looks back towards the bard and draws ever closer, gently wrapping her arms around them as she pulls them in for a heartfelt hug. With a smile... she gazes at Kiwi so lovingly. She’d missed them. And they respond in kind, resting their forehead upon Miriam’s and hugging her back, looking into her eyes with a gleam in their own. She presses up close against her warm friend, nuzzling them.

“I know.”

#vestaposts #kiwi wandersong #miriam wandersong #mirikiwi #comic #fancomic #serranoposts #me drawing this thinking ah yes this is so platonic #it actually is #but i figured the shippers would like this one #chismest #wandersong

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the-offside-rule · 1 year

Text

Mitch Evans (Jaguar) - Unprofessional

Requested: by my friend who also writes on wattpad

Prompt: Mitch has been having some rough patches, but no matter how good he is, there is always one journalist that will have something to say about him.

Warnings: smut, cvnty mitch, 18+, rough

Mitch smiled as he walked into his garage. P2 after such a difficult race. He deserved it, every drop of champagne and every word of praise and glory. "I'd like to see people question my driving now." Mitch chuckled as he set his trophy to the side. The few engineers around him exchanged glances, making the kiwi that bit confused. "What is it? Did they give me a penalty?" He asked worried. "No, it's just-" The engineer paused. "Well, Y/n Y/l/n was live a few minutes ago and she said this is another example of how drivers that don't deserve a win, somehow always win." Mitch arched a brow and scoffed. "Oh please. If undeserving drivers always won, they would deserve it. No one is that lucky." He chuckled, acting as though the constant remarks didn't bother him. "Well yeah. As long as you don't look at twitter." Mitch looked between both of the engineers and took his phone out. "See, why would you say that? Now I'm obviously going to go-" He didn't even need to go into her profile to see it. It was everywhere

thejournalisty/n

Boring race, but such an incredible win from Vandoorne! Genuinely excited proud of him for keeping up his incredible run this whole weekend and Im looking forward to many more races like this!

fefan2023 What about Mitch Evans? He did pretty well too I thought??

thejournalisty/n He's an okay driver, I just didn't see anything worth noting as he was racing. Other than his incompetent driving style showing up from time to time.

His jaw clenched as he read the disheartening tweets. "She doesn't know what she's on about mate, she just-" Mitch slammed the trophy onto the table, creating a silence after. "It's every weekend though! I can't go into a race week without her blabbering on about some bullshit." Mitch said in an annoyed tone. "I'm going to sort it." Mitch put his phone back into his pocket and left the garage, some if his team following him to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid.

On the other side of the paddock, up and coming motorsport journalist, Y/n Y/l/n stood with her microphone prepared to do her segment on the race. "Okay, recording in 5....4....3...2....1." Y/n smiled into the camera. "Hello guys, and welcome back to-"

"Y/n!" The journalist jumped upon hearing the loud shout of her name. She turned quickly, looking to see who it was, only to see Mitch Evans pacing towards her, his fists clenched. "Can we speak later? I'm filming a segment-"

"I don't give a continental fuck! I'm sick of this shit!" The corner of Y/n's lips curled into a grin. "Oh what? What exactly are you going to do in front of all these people?" She challenged. What the young reporter didn't expect was for the kiwi driver to grab her wrist and haul her away from the crowd around her and towards his driver room. "Let go of me! I'll call security!" She warned, earning a scoff from Mitch. "You think they're gonna kick a driver out of the paddock? I'd like to see that happen, darling." He grimaced before opening his door and leading her in. "Sit down." He said. "You think I'm going to-"

"I said sit!" Mitch repeated, much louder and more demanding. Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and abides by his orders. Mitch walked around, shutting his blinds and locking his door so no one could tell him to calm down or stop shouting. "Okay, I'm sat. What's wrong with you now?" She asked, her arms crossed as she leaned back onto the white plastic walls behind the tiny stool. "Don't play fucking stupid, what the fuck are you doing?" Mitch shouted. "I was doing my job! I have to critique every driver!" Y/n replied. "It seems like you only ever do it to me though! Stoffel came P3 in the race today, and you insisted the car was the issue. Fucking Dan nearly crashed into me and it was my fault! Do you see how unfair this is?!" He asked. Y/n shook her head. "Oh my god! You're infuriating!" He shouts. "Can I just explained?" She asked, standing up finally. "No! You won't explain shit to me!" It became a roaring match, with everyone practically listening outside.

"You'll have to make me shut up!" Y/n shouted back. "You want me to make you shut up?" He repeated. Y/n chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. What the fuck are you gonna do?" He stood in front of her, jaw clenched, not knowing what he would possibly do. "That's what I thought." She scoffed and turned to open the door, only to be pulled back by Mitch, his lips instantly latching onto hers. She pulled away, matching his shocked face. "What was that?" She asked, breathless. "I- I'm not entirely sure." Mitch muttered. Y/n looked between hsi eyes and lips. "Do it again." She breathed. Without another thought, he gave in and leaned in yet again. This time however, there was a mutual desire for need and lust.

His hands roamed her body, gripping each part of her like this was the last chance he had. "Wanted to do this long?" Y/n mumbled into the kiss. "Not that I know." He replied, hating that he had to break contact to reply. He looked at her shirt in disgust. "What? You don't like my shirt?" She asked. "No, it'd just look better on the floor right now." He murmured. Y/n unbuttoned the shirt and threw it off in world record time. "Come on, yoh don't want to felt left out, do you?" Mitch chuckled and unzipped his overalls, tying them around his hips, then moving his attention to his fireproof shirt. He lifted it to reveal his toned upper body and tossed it to the side with no regard. Y/n gasped as Mitch pushed her back against the wall, the cold plastic giving her a shock. "Y/n?" He asked. "Yes?"

"Jump." He murmured into her ear. She gripped onto his shoulders and hopped up, her legs being caught by Mitch's arms, wrapping them around his waist. "In the driver room? Bit unprofessional, no?" She joked, moving her hair out of her face. "I think this whole thing is, but we can discuss that later." He whispered. A light laugh left her lips as Mitch buried his head into the crook of her neck, kissing and nipping as he did, leaving nothing but lilac bruises imprinted onto her. "Stop teasing and actually do something." She groaned, feeling the pool form in her panties. "Bit ironic, isn't it?" He chuckled. Y/n pushed him away from her for a moment. "How do you mean?" She asked, becoming annoyed. "I mean-" Mitch paused and pecked her lips. "It's ironic that the man you label as incompetent is about to fuck you in his driver room." Y/n's breath hitched as he moved from kissing her lips to now kissing her cleavage. "Just please, do something or-"

"Or what? Are you gonna write an article about this?" He mused, Y/n slowly growing impatient. Without much further notice, Mitch pushed her panties over to one side and thrusted into her, a string of curses leaving her lips. "Shut up, they might hear you." Mitch whisper-shouted, his hand clasping over her mouth. She pulled herself closer to Mitch's body, her hands now reaching down his back as Mitch began a pace. It began slow to see if anyone would notice or knock the door, but it slowly became quicker and more passionate. "Fuck, Mitch." She breathed, pressing soft kisses onto his neck. A groan left his lips at the euphoria of this. "Harder, please." She whispered. A grin appeared on Mitch's face. "Dirty bitch." He whispered right back. He picked up the pace and delved deeper into her with each thrust. Her nails were now digging into his tanned skin, decorating it with white lines. "Mitch- oh fuck!" She stopped herself from shrieking his name, loud enough for the whole paddock to hear.

He felt as her walls closed around him. He felt himself comingundone with her. His groans turned to moans and his thrusts became sloppy. His arms curled around her waist and torso, holding her close to his sweaty body. Her head fell back in ecstasy. "Look at me." Mitch demanded. It took every fibre of strength for Y/m to bring her head forward and look at him. His lips once again latched onto hers as the two of the finished, in eachothers arms. The pair sat, riding through their highs together before Mitch finally broke the silence. "That shut you up enough?" Mitch panted as Y/n gripped onto his broad shoulders. "I mean...I wasn't exactly quiet, was I?" Mitch shook his head and pecked her lips again. She could feel his smile against her lips. "Was this good enough for me to finally get into your good books?" He joked. Y/n laughed with him and nodded. "For this week. Next time, you'll need to up your game to stay in my good books." The kiwi chuckled and threw the journalist her shirt. "Hurry up before people think something actually happened. Y/n scoffed and threw her shirt on over her shoulders. "They won't think anything happened. Didn't even last six minutes." She replied. "Well next time, 8ll be sure to make it longer." He said. "We'll have to see next time then."

*time skip*

Mitch walked into the paddock of the day after smiling his usual smile. He waved at fans and people from the teams. "Mitch." Y/n said as he passed. "Y/n." He replied, smirking. "I was wondering if I could interview you later?" She asked. "How up, close and personal are we getting?" He chuckled. She slapped her cards off his arm. "Behave, Evans or I'll gladly interview someone else." He looked away shaking his head. "You're sick in the head for that." He replied, walking away. "You know I'm your favourite to interview." She rolled her eyes and turned back around to film as Mitch walked off behind her to his garage. "Hey guys. Ready for today?" Mitch asked. His two engineers looked at him, both impressed and confused. "What?" He asked. "How did you get Y/n to not be an asshole?" One of them asked. "Hey, hey, that's not very polite, is it?" He replied. "But what are you even on about?" His engineer handed him his phone, opened on her website. "Just read the last bit."

Now, although Vandoorne maintained his lead from the beginning if the race, I must give credits where credits are due; Mitch Evans once again proves his talent as we review his incredible drive from P11 at the start, and going on to come second in the race. I can only hope we see more from the kiwi in the upcoming races.

Mitch smiled. Finally, a nice comment about him. And all it took, was a little bit of unprofessionalism.

#mitch evans x you #mitch evans x reader #mitch evans imagine #mitch evans oneshot #mitch evans

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licantropa · 8 months

Note

So I've been thinking about your post about Capsize's death and how it didn't really have a narrative point. As well as Kiwi's tags about it seeming to mostly be to motivate Jordan. And I just have been mulling it over in my head a bit to keep as much of the story the same without killing Capsize, and I think the narrative works betters if Furia made Capsize sick?

So like, if we wanna be as in keeping with canon as possible, Furia strikes her once, but then rather than continuing to attack, he just laughs when Capsize (and any of the others) attack him back. Then have a little announcement like "Capsize feels weakened" for them to actually realise he's done something. And you can still have Furia do his whole "I'm stronger and better than Dianite" bit.

They then travel to Ianerea where Ianite would reveal that the sickness Capsize received will kill her, and at her current level of strength the only way she has to "cure" it, is to pass it to someone else, which Capsize would wholeheartedly refuse to do. Like it invites other people to try and "save" her, but puts Capsize more squarely in control and gives her a voice in the situation.

In my head, this lets Tom have a motivation to help Capsize, lets there be a time crunch on saving Ianite, and still has Capsize present in her own narrative (meaning she can call bullshit on Jordan if he tries any "I must save my girl" stuff).

You can also probably still develop Redbeard, since Capsize is weaking and could die, so he needs to pick up some slack or keep having Capsize pick up his when she's not in a condition for that to be reasonable.

Then in the finale, to have reasonable explanations for the pirates not joining in the void jump, Ianite reveals that she can cure Capsize, but it'll take quite a while so Capsize will have to remain at the temple in the end (... and then they kiss). Redbeard can either stay with Capsize or, if you want an independence arc or to just still have him need to say goodbye to his sister, ask to be returned to Ianerea to help rebuild his home. Bing bang boom, the characters are all tied up, they just need to be mentioned in Ianite Dreams in Season 2.

And this is kinda all like thoughts I've just been milling about, trying to stick vaguely with the same narrative progression as canon while not killing off a character.

I have the idea that this could also have the addition of Dianite trying to get Tom to go off the rescue Ianite plan by saying he'll cure Capsize if he gets her to forsake Ianite to add just some more conflict.

(Apologises for the ramble, you just like caused thoughts).

Helloooo!

I really like this! Specifically because it gives Capsize agency in what happens to her, even if what happens (death) is something everyone wants to avoid. And it gives both siblings an opportunity to be in the narrative.

That last bit is crazy, I’ve always imagined that if Capsize had lived, Dianite would tell Tom to kill her, but trying to gain her as a follower to save her is a fucking cool concept. If he can’t have one captain, suppose he’ll settle for the other.

I can definitely see how this would all play out and I really enjoy it!!!!

Although, when I read your addition to the post and Monty’s tags, my brain went in the opposite direction. In his tags, he says that killing her off was to make Furia seem like an actual threat and I agree with that. But they could have done that with Capsize all the way back near the beginning. If the writers had wanted to kill both pirates, they could’ve done that while also not sacrificing Capsize’s character.

When she killed Redbeard, it stays permanent. This cementing Capsize as a violent character, and getting worse when she finds out Red had been lying and her attitude towards Jordan (the real reason her ship sunk and not telling her the truth about that) gets significantly more and more aggressive.

She dies at the finale in the final fight with Dianite (because dying to Furia is stupid sorry), not being able to see her journey to its end. Her death should be something of her own doing, even if it’s being done by another character (idk if that makes sense). It’s a tragedy through n through. Redbeard does end up as cannon fodder for Capsizes development but to be fair he hadn’t even been a character until after her death.

#coolcattime #asks #mianite

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gumnut-logic · 2 years

Text

Sweetapple (Part Two)

Part 1 | Part 2

Still @flyboytracy ‘s fault. ::hugs you silly::

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for reading and Kiwi-fying and to @katblu42 for also reading and joining in the crazy. ::hugs you to bits::

A bit of exposition in this one, please bear with me. I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

“So what do you think?”

Scott strode across the room, back to his desk. “I think you need to go back to the Island and get some rack time.”

Virgil glowered at him. “You first.” A breath. “But seriously, what do you think?”

“I would have thought what you and Brains think would be more important than my opinion.”

“Scott, it should work. Alex has done all the hard work on theoretical testing. It’s my vote that we go to prototype and get this project off the ground.” Virgil shifted his feet. “You know Gordon would love this.”

Scott dropped his hands onto his desk and leant over the hardwood top. “Yeah, he would.”

The thought that it wouldn’t bring back the people who had died three weeks ago due to yet another underwater habitat collapse remained unspoken.

But it hovered in the room.

Gordon had been devastated after that rescue. If rescue was what you could call body recovery.

This might stop it from happening again. Not all rescues were response. The best were prevention in the first place.

“Has Kayo done background on Sweetapple yet?”

“Yes. She didn’t find anything. Born here in Aotearoa, Dutch descent, single, um…” Virgil poked at his watch and a hologram appeared above it. “Lives here in Auckland – One Tree Hill. Bachelor of Engineering at the University of Auckland.” His eyes scanned what appeared to be a mass of information. Typical Kayo. “Worst I can see is he played MacBeth one year in his high school drama class.”

Scott frowned at his brother. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Shakespeare’s MacBeth is a total fabrication. False history.”

“So?”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Alex has a cleaner record than you.”

Scott grunted. “So, you recommend sending him to R&D at Māhia.”

“I do.”

He straightened. “Fine. Set it in motion. Usual travel stipend. Basic security clearance.”

“Basic?” Virgil was frowning at him.

“He’s only worked here two months. Actually working with him will uncover more than any background check. Spend a little time before we share the family arsenal.”

Virgil shrugged. “FAB.”

As if speaking the word called upon the fates, both their watches went off at the same time.

John’s voice as calm as always. “Thunderbirds, we have a situation.”

Scott sighed. One coffee wasn’t really enough.

-o-o-o-

“So, how’d it go?”

Erica’s chewing gum smile was enough for Alex to finally drop his computer to the floor. Apparently, it was a law of physics. It had been attracted to the floor all day.

At least now it was post-possibly-career-ending-calamity.

“Easy there, Tiger. Relax before you break something.”

As usual, Erica was far too laid back for his comfort. “You frightened me.”

“What? Little old me?” Her pink-streaked pig tails bounced as she dramatically clutched her chest. “How could I?”

Alex ignored her and picked his computer off the floor. It’s shock-proof case had paid for itself so many times. “Easily, unfortunately.” He put the computer down carefully, yanked out his chair and collapsed into it.

Every muscle melted.

“That good, huh?”

Alex stared at the space mobile spinning gently in the ducted air. “I think this project would gain more success if it didn’t have me leading it. You should do it.”

As if to prove to him how bad an idea that was, she blew a pink gum bubble, popped it with one finger before sucking it back in and chewing on it some more. “Oh, I don’t think so. Besides, it’s your baby. I’m only your assistant.”

“Bullshit, Erry, you are my partner on this. Without you, it would never have made it this far.”

“Eh, I think you need to rethink your self-esteem. Or maybe get an esteem transplant or something. You’ve got this.” She threw a stylus on her desk and lent forward. “And I need the goss.”

Alex sighed. He had expected this. “Yes, he truly is as gorgeous as you think he is. Yes, the dimples appear real, though I doubt we could prove that without a medical scanner.” A frown as his brain provided a scene where they had to grab Scott Tracy and scan him – hmm.

His thoughts were interrupted by a roar. A glance out the window and he caught the very edge of a rocket powered tail fin before it vanished off into the distance.

Wow.

“Does that happen often?”

Erica leant back in her seat not perturbed in the slightest. “Every now and then. Mr Tracy doesn’t usually make house calls.”

“What?” Alex turned to face her.

She stared at him. “You know he was here to specifically check you out? You said yourself that IR was deployed late last night to Japan, didn’t you?” She grabbed the remote and lit up the big screen in the corner. A flick of her wrist and last night’s tremor and almost-skyscaper-collapse came up on screen. “Three am, our time, they left. My bet is that man should have been in bed, not approving engineering projects.” She threw down the remote in disgust.

“Well, that explained the coffee.”

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, his PA had coffee for him and he looked like he needed it. Hell, I needed it.”

“Yeah, well, you live the life of the obsessed. Sleep is optional.”

“Hey, today was important to me.”

“I know. But you should be looking after yourself better.”

“We’ve only known each other for two months.” Seemed like years, though. Erica had latched onto him the moment he arrived and he was ever grateful.

“I knew you needed help the moment I saw you. We here at Tracy Industries save people.” She smiled.

He knew she meant it as a joke, but it was a scary reality. He had fled his previous job at Oxy-Baker due to their confining work environment. If he was going to admit it, even that decision had been based on International Rescue. The trainwreck that had been that atmospheric scrubber and the realisation that the whole scenario could have resulted in Scott Tracy’s death…

The media had been scathing.

So, he’d left that organisation, his conscience not able to support contributing to that mess any longer.

It was kind of ironic that three weeks later Tracy Industries itself had eaten the business alive and the upper echelons had been career obliterated by the Tracys.

Word had it that new atmospheric scrubbers were in development. All the engineering circles online were awash with the possibilities. Even V.T. Green was enthusiastic.

That hadn’t helped Alex at the time, but he was glad it had happened.

One bonus of working with that lot was that it had given him the inspiration for Siliwrap. Not that the business had listened.

His life was so different now. His application to Tracy Industries Product Design department had been out of desperation. Perhaps Erica was right. His self-esteem needed a boost of some kind. He had never thought he had the remotest of chances.

Yet here he was. Well paid, enough to get himself out of that awful flat up north, full of other people’s crap, and into his own apartment in the frankly amazing One Tree Hill. The list of blessings that had happened in the last few months were longer than his arm.

Perhaps he was in some kind of good luck shock.

“I need coffee.”

Erica rolled her eyes. “You know where to find it.” But then she peered at him, her eyes squinting. “You should take the rest of the day off.”

He paused climbing to his feet. “Bugger that. If you think I’m about to pull a sickie just because I’m tired, you’re out of your mind. I have work I can do. There is no way I’m taking advantage of the Tracys when they’ve given me an opportunity like this.”

She stared at him a moment before pulling the stylus out from behind her right ear. “You’re an idiot.” She turned back to the report she was working on. “We work flexi-time for a damn good reason.”

A grunt and Alex threw himself to his feet. “Getting coffee. Want some?”

She shook her head and waved him off, focussing on the document she was typing.

Okay, so he was having trouble adjusting to the new work environment.

Oxy-Baker had been so different. They had had to clock in and out and every second of their time was counted and accounted for. He hadn’t realised how oppressive it was. In fact, he had thought that was just how everything worked.

But not here. The entire design team had flexi-time in recognition of the fact design and engineering were as much arts as any art on the creative spectrum and needed time. They were trusted. So much trust came down from on high that they would do right by the company, the team felt they couldn’t do anything but do right.

Sure, there was the occasional lunch that went on for too long, but in general the team gave as much as was given to them. If a design was bugging an individual engineer, they could work the midnight run if they wanted and be compensated by moving hours to make up for the lack of sleep.

It created a relaxed atmosphere and Alex, fanboy as he knew he was, couldn’t help but want to give more.

The office spaces reflected the ease and the allowed personality of the team. Computer stations had toys sitting on them from Star Wars to the almost mandatory Thunderbird vehicle.

No one here hesitated to flash their colours.

At the end of the hall a huge painting was hung on the wall. When he had asked Erica about it, she claimed one of the Tracy brothers themselves had painted it. Sure enough, he had made out the signature in the darkness at the bottom of the work eventually. The word ‘Tracy’ was barely legible.

The painting itself was titled ‘Hope’ and was a hand reaching out of that darkness into a glowing light as another hand reached down from the top of the painting stretching to grab a hold. It was bloody inspirational and said everything the Tracys were about.

God, he was a hopeless fanboy.

He thought about his meeting earlier. How did Scott Tracy exist. The man had been in a pressed suit mere hours after digging a hundred or so people out from under a building.

Frickin’ heroes.

Like everything at Tracy Industries, the staffroom was a good one with all the appliances anyone could ever need. It had several couches, for goodness’ sake. A large mobile of Thunderbirds hung from the ceiling in the centre of the room like some slowly spinning chandelier.

He was living a bloody dream.

Like a zombie, he grabbed the coffee jug that was on almost permanent brew and poured himself a shot. Milk and sweetener and syrup…he really needed the syrup.

Moments and he had warmth pouring down his throat.

Bliss.

A frown. Tracy Industries coffee was good. That was another perk he adored about this job, but despite its wonderfulness, this coffee had been outshone by that takeaway coffee he’d nabbed off Mr Tracy’s PA this morning.

He took another blissful swallow. Yes, delicious, but…

Maybe he should tackle the challenge once he’d had more sleep.

He buried his face in his cup.

-o-o-o-

It took weeks.

In that time, International Rescue saved people from all over the planet. It was standard in this office to keep tabs on the family’s activities. Thunderbird Two was called out to a gas leak in the desert at one point. Thunderbird Four did a rescue on the Supreme Barrier Reef. At the beginning of the year, a new bunch of assholes calling themselves the Chaos Crew had been screwing with everything.

Some people said that they were direct opposition to International Rescue, and if International Rescue were removed from the equation, there would be less catastrophes for them to tackle.

Alex had words for those people and they weren’t for polite company.

The words he used for the Chaos Crew were downright black and nasty.

But all he could do in his position was do his job, watch and hope. The design team he was part of, including Erica, had erected a dartboard in one corner of the office. They lack faces for the people they wanted to throw darts at, so the board had been painted purple.

Purple as a colour took a major hit in the popularity stakes in Tracy Tower.

Despite all this, perhaps because of it, Alex pursued the Phantom Coffee.

Because it was a phantom coffee. It did not seem to exist.

He had methodically hunted through every staffroom in the building. Admittedly, he may have used a microdot of that flexi-time to wander the halls.

He hadn’t been game enough to head back to Scott Tracy’s office yet, but he was getting close.

Every shop. EVERY shop within walking distance of Tracy Tower was investigated.

Alex was an engineer and slightly on the obsessive side. Okay, perhaps more than slightly, but that coffee so kindly handed to him by Mr Tracy’s PA was worth it.

If he could find it.

But the hunt proved futile and eventually he had to admit that he was going to have to put his brave face on and go and ask the man.

He still hadn’t heard about Siliwrap and he was pretty sure it was going to be a fail and he should prepare to face facts that it just wasn’t good enough. But the Tracys were busy. That much was obvious. Why would they have time to make a decision?

Scott Tracy had visited in person for a reason.

His brain gnawed at his soul.

So the coffee was likely a distraction.

Whatever worked.

Except he couldn’t locate it.

So, here he was, riding the elevator to Mr Tracy’s office hoping to meet with his PA and discuss COFFEE.

God, he was an idiot.

The doors opened and he was struck with the last time he had been here. The door with the Tracy Industries logo on it was still there.

What? Did you expect it to explode and vanish or something?

The desk was still there. The air of minimalist luxury still hung in the air.

But there was no sign of Mr Tracy’s PA. Instead a young woman sat at the desk the man had leant on. Dressed primly in a spotless suit, she looked over at him. “Can I help you?”

“Uh.” God, he was stupid. “Have you seen Mr Tracy’s PA?”

She frowned at him. “I’m Mr Tracy’s PA. Can I help you?”

What?

Oh, shit. “Um, I was up here a few weeks back and, uh, Mr Tracy…” God, asking about coffee was so lame. “I have a project awaiting…” Judgement. “…approval.”

She smiled just a little. “Mr Tracy has been busy of late. Which project did you need information on?”

“Siliwrap.” The name was so stupid!

“Oh, Siliwrap.” She smiled even more as she prodded her computer. “That is currently with the Head of Research and Development.” She appeared a little awkward all of a sudden. “Yes, he has been busy, as well. I will send him a reminder.”

Head of R&D? He hadn’t met Virgil Tracy yet.

He held up his hands. “No, no, that’s fine. It can wait.” Bloody Thunderbird Two!

She smiled gently. “I promise, he won’t mind. In fact, I think he would prefer the reminder. I’ll speak to Luc, his PA, and we’ll see if we can get an answer.” She paused a moment. “You’re new here?”

A single aghast nod.

She stood up from the desk and walked around to greet him, offering him her hand. “Hi, I’m Carly, Scott Tracy’s PA. Welcome to Tracy Industries.”

He shook her hand and considered dying on the spot.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #alexander sweetapple #nuttyfic #flyboytracy's fault #so much fun

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another-corpo-rat · 1 year

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Prompt: Hurt Me Good Kiwi/Meredith Stout (Past, Mentioned) Warnings for a past unhealthy relationship. Summary: Lucy and Kiwi have a small talk about trust and the necessity of a lack of it.

“So, I gotta ask.”

“You really don’t.” Kiwi narrows her eyes as her protégé slips into the chair beside her. The girl was getting good at the stealth shit; she’d give her that. She didn’t hear her approach this time. “But I got a feeling you’re gonna anyways.”

“Never trust a soul in Night City…Why was that the first lesson you drilled into me?”

“I reckon it’s the most important. Most ignored too.” She wanted to reach for a cigarette, but the girl was quick – picked up that it was a nervous habit of hers, an avoidant one. Couldn’t have her knowing it was a correct observation. She taps her fingers idly against the glass table. “You’re a bright spark, didn’t wanna see you get snuffed out too quick. Trust’s the fastest way for that to happen.”

She casts her eyes across the wide space as she talks, noting the locations of the rest of the crew, dispersed as they were through the crowds of the street party. Maine and Dorio were chatting up one of the small-time fixers – a rising star they were trying to hitch a ride on. Dorio was doing most of the talking this time, has been for a while, since Maine’s jitters started again. Pilar was doing tricks with his bullshit gibbon arms, juggling whatever the crowd tossed at him. And Rebecca was – heh. Having a private party with a solo in one of the alleys further back, out of view of the crowd but not out of reach of her ping.

“I trust you though.” Lucy points out, her own eyes drawing lazily across the same crowd. Her expression bored, even if there’s something mildly goading in her tone.

“Enough, not entirely.” They both share a look at that, Lucy’s challenging, Kiwi’s certain. “Why else are you so shifty about what was on that BD you got a while back?”

The younger netrunner is the first to look away this time.

“It’s nothing.” She says sharply.

“Relax, kiddo, I’m not taking it personally. Kinda glad to know you’ve taken it to heart.” And she is. There’s an edge of pride to her voice that she doesn’t bother to hide, a warmth in her eyes that Rebecca would draw attention to and ruin the moment.

She’d be smiling, if she still could. Thin lips pulled up in a grin, showing too much gum, too many teeth. She hated that smile since—

“What happened that you took it to heart?”

“Bitter, bitter experience.” And that was that; Lucy hums in response, thoughtful but ultimately content with even that sliver of obvious information as she resettles her focus outward. The girl never pried, it was one of the reasons Kiwi liked her as much as she did. Significantly more than she did Pilar or Becca, whose company she comparatively tolerated.

She’ll reward that silence, just this once.

“I almost got myself zeroed. Trusted the wrong person, fooled myself into thinking what we had was special. Hell, got so deep I was convinced she trusted me too.” Flicking her eyes towards the young woman, she meets the curious glint of pastel pupils that feel familiar. Like looking in a mirror and seeing her younger self again – that same eagerness to fit, the fear of it in equal parts. She doesn’t doubt Lucy might’ve made the same mistakes she did lifetimes ago.

Like whispering ‘I love you’ as she lay in their arms and ignoring the blaring sirens in her head that call her an idiot.

Or letting them press the weight of their own misjudgements on her shoulders. A gun pressing to her jaw. All her insecurities and hopes laid bare at the other’s feet thrown back into her face. A face no longer pretty in their eyes, chin too sharp, lips too thin. Laugh too shrill.

Letting herself believe them to be even remotely right.

“Would rather not have to pick up your pieces if you made that mistake. Tends to get…messy.” Loud, violent. Last she saw her, the bitch had the audacity to get a tattoo below her ear.

Never Again.

As if it was her fault things went to shit.

“I won’t.” And it’s spat, spoken with such conviction that Kiwi can’t help but be certain of it as well. Still, she merely offers her own hum, looking away to let the quiet settle between them. Lucy was ruminating, best leave her to it for the next few minutes. And the mess of their crew is interesting enough to occupy that time, especially now that the harder liquor is out after Dorio worked her magic.

Kiwi’s own drink still sits untouched and Lucy hadn’t accepted a cup. Things hadn’t gotten violent yet, but neither woman were keen to dull themselves to the potential of it. A drunk netrunner was a useless one.

The allotted minutes pass. Neither start another conversation, both content to sit in the rare quiet of each other’s company.

Kiwi doesn’t play favourites but-

“Hey! Old Hag, c’mere!”

Lucy is definitely her favourite.

#cyberhanami23 #cyberpunk: edgerunners #Edgerunners #cyberpunk 2077 #Kiwi #Lucy #lucyna kushinada #Meredith Stout #vaguely #fic tag #my writing #technically day 3 for me so im posting this now #since im gonna be without wifi tomorrow

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frogsandfries · 8 months

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This has been weighing on me for

At least several days.

I had a dairy-heavy day recent-ish-ly, and then I noticed that I itched like I hadn't itched for months. My legs, especially the backs, where they'd been more enclosed, from the way I'd been sitting, itched like crazy and were covered in the worst hive/rash I've ever seen on my own skin. Like, normally, well, the new normal, is that my skin is dotted with little red hives. This time, the colors of my skin were reversed, and there were little spots and speckles of my base skin tone, but it was mostly flaming hive-red. Perhaps worse than my arms have ever looked since I got over covid and entered the post-covid phase.

I want to scream. I want to rage, but nothing I do will change this.

I still remember the zenith of my infection, feeling like my bronchioles had been iron-sealed and if I didn't fight for breath, to break up the shit in my chest, that was it.

We did everything we were told. We social distanced, we wore masks--properly. We kept our outings minimal.

And we both still. Fucking. Got. Covid.

And it has been wreaking fucking havoc on my body since and it's not fucking fair. I feel like I'm alone. No one else I know was impacted like this..... I'm mad as hell, but who even cares.... I could be dead. I could be Really Disabled (TM) by this......

Possibly the worst part is, all the resources say "months"....... I was struck with Covid in August of 2021......does that fucking sound like "months". This isn't fucking going away.

And I had no say over it. So much for the land of the fucking free. What fucking bullshit.

Well, I better talk to my doctor about getting an epi pen. After the other day with that allergic reaction to fucking seasoned chicken, and then this stupid fucking dairy rash. I'm not going to give up eating ice cream because it makes me itch like I've never experienced before. I already had to give up cow's milk on my cereal and fucking yogurt and cheese for the most part. What else am I going to have to fucking give up eating? Chicken?? Beef?? RiCe?!?!?

I will NOT.

Anyway, I'm just so fucking frustrated and upset and mad right now. It's been eating at me a bit. I can't talk to my dad because that person was rightfully relieved from my life...... I don't have any parents, I don't have any parental role models in my life...... I just feel like no one who's left would..........get it.....like I said, I don't know anyone else who's been impacted like this. It's not fucking fair.... Wasn't a kiwi allergy bad enough? Covid had to try to take away food that I shouldn't be eating just because I don't digest it very well, but literally cannot live without it as a part of my life? Why couldn't covid have taken foods I don't really eat anyway, like......I dunno, fucking marshmallows or hotdogs....

#covid #long covid #vent #rant

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catbountry · 1 year

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In the past month or so I have been reworking my FAQ and BYF pages and wow, it is weird seeing the stuff that I said years ago and how alien it seems to me now. I feel like I've mellowed out considerably. I know people are still going to be mad at me or afraid of me because of ignorant or hurtful shit I said in the past, or the fact that I stuck around Kiwi Farms as long as I did. I'm not very good at hiding myself, and while I could completely start from scratch just to get away from the legacy of a callout blog and years-old receipts... I feel like I almost can't. All that shit, having done that, being able to look back on it... I feel I've grown as a person. I'm not a different person, but I'm a person who has had new experiences that has altered their perspective. I said and did those things. I could Delete Fucking Everything, but the internet never forgets. It wouldn't undo the things I said and did.

At the same time, though, there are some people who I beefed with who I still think are bad people and I don't want to fucking apologize to these bastards. I just won't talk about them publicly anymore since they were never worth my time in the first place. Fuck them.

But there are definitely individual people that I wish I could apologize too, people who were my friends, good people that I hurt because I was on some bullshit. I don't know if they'd want to hear from me, though. I can understand if they don't, and to be honest, I'm a little afraid to reach out to some of them for fear that they might dismiss me immediately. But if you think you might be one of those people... maybe we can patch things up. I feel an apology means more when it's personal, and you're not saying it in front of an audience of people. I don't want my apologies to be performances. I want them to be sincere. I also don't want to come across like I'm asking for pity or buttpats, either. I've grown, time marches forward, the past cannot be changed. So too do I go forward... edging ever closer to my 40's oh god help.

... I should be asleep but I feel completely wired and I've had the same fucking Dave Matthews Band song stuck in my head for the past two days and I fucking hate Dave Matthews Band, this is an act of divine retribution for my past sins, fuck you fuck you fuck you.

#drama #about me

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sebrrari · 2 years

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Hi! If it's okay to ask, what's the context behind the tags you have (honeycomb; dandelion) for certain drivers? They're really nice!!

hi omg this is so nice! also there's another anon in my inbox about this - if it was you sorry i took longer to answer!!! i wanted to be on my computer for this so i could type this all out! and if it wasn't you hi other anon, thanks for being so patient!!!

ok so basically - it's a hold over from being on tumblr in like 2010. [insert "back in my day" anecdote here]. the tagging system was waaaay different back then, and if you didn't want your posts (even reblogs) to show up in the main tag (that antis combed to reblog and hate on stuff, or maybe you just wanted some goddamn privacy), people made their own tags so that they could search just that.

also, it's fun.

here's what mine mean to me - i’m the kind of person that operates very much off of vibes, so some of these are more literal and some of these are just absolute bullshit that i came up with in my soup brain.

lewis hamilton: #dandelion - something that can grow even in the toughest of conditions. people often treat these like weeds, but they're some of the most nutritious (for humans and for other plants), easy to cultivate, and beautiful flowers in the northern hemisphere. in flower symbology, they're a symbol of hope, growth, and healing. their little seeds can travel for over a kilometer to bring life to more than just themselves. maybe you can see where i'm going with this.

sebastian vettel: #honeycomb - a marvel of nature. bees created something that took man thousands of years to understand. symbolically, beehives represent cooperation - and the fact that a hive of bees can create such a flawless, useful structure on their own and for their use just amazes me. obviously, seb and bees. but more than that, the way that bees are remarkably adaptable. and a wonder of the natural world. and that honeycomb structures are physically hardy and able to be scaled up and up without losing the core that it began with. something like that.

daniel ricciardo: #sweet and sour - this one is a little silly. sweet and sour is my favorite type of dipping sauce (thai sweet chili, honey fermented garlic, plum sauce, etc.). it goes with anything. sometimes it seems out of place, but it can make or break a taste profile (yeah i’m going with the tasting notes for something you dip french fries in sue me). it’s a rare combination in nature, but when you find it it’s an absolute treat. think kiwis, key limes, meyer lemons. little gems of their own that don’t always get enough credit.

charles leclerc: #the taste of paradise - lyrics from “sad child” by brother leo and sandro cavazza which is on pierre’s f1 spotify playlist. charles is like a character you wish you wrote. he’s born from greatness, in a place that lots of people consider a paradise of excess. he’s gifted from the start. his nickname is literally something out of a YA fantasy coming of age book. but when you’ve had the taste of paradise and then have bad luck and struggles and loss like he has, does it taste bitter? does he resent the thing he’s experienced and the places he’s come from? is all worth the chase of his paradise (the championship)? i love my little depression, angst, and burdened by destiny mouse. mwah

nico rosberg: #crown prince - he’s racing royalty. he was in line to be the next crowned since the day he put his ass in a kart seat. but his life is forever intertwined with a challenger for his throne. the befriend each other and they are at each other’s throats. he gets his crown, but then quits the sport entirely. he just needed to catch the golden ring. but did the then get to let go? or is he still sagging under the weight of greatness?

lewis/nico: #violent delights - they have violent ends, bro. like fire and powder which as they kiss consume, bro!

max/daniel: #equinox - when i first joined f1 there was a beautiful series of art pieces going around of drivers as tarot cards, and the artist cast max as the moon and daniel as the sun. i was obsessed with it. i love the idea of them as polar opposites, traveling on the track over and over again, day after day, and it’s not clear who is chasing who. and an equinox is the day in a year where they’re perfectly balanced when day and night are of equal(ish) length. they are equals on those days, neither of them winning or losing the chase.

seb/mark: #whether the medicine is enough - i was writing analytics and found this bonkers quote from mark that he gave after the 2013 malaysian grand prix. he says he’s going to go surfing as medicine to soothe the wound of multi-21. and he doesn’t know if it will be enough to let it go. i think “whether x is enough” is a theme in the way i dissect martian. is their love enough, their raw attraction enough, their manners, their forgiveness, their history enough to see them through to a place where they can stay together? i say yes, because they’re down so fucking bad for each other. but i love to pull at the threads that they’ve woven together to grow close and see which one might be loose.

daniel/charles: #true blues - the saying means “the real thing.” the fall out boy song ginasfs twists it to mean true blues as in true sadness, true longing, blue eyes, nostalgia, going out with a bang, not being able to let go of something that was just a flash in the pan for someone else. i love taking their vegas trip and projecting on it, basically. see: there is a ghost at the end of this song.

thank you so much for asking and sorry this is a fucking essay!!!! and if there's a driver or ship that i blog about but haven't made a tag for yet, it's because inspiration hasn't struck. my smick and my sebastidan and my michael schumacher tags are desperate for a personal touch but i just haven't found the ones.

#answered ask

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