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mostlysignssomeportents · 7 months

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Deb Chachra's "How Infrastructure Works": Mutual aid, the built environment, the climate, and a future of comfort and abundance

This Thursday (Oct 19), I'm in Charleston, WV to give the 41st annual McCreight Lecture in the Humanities. And on Friday (Oct 20), I'm at Charleston's Taylor Books from 12h-14h.

Engineering professor and materials scientist Deb Chachra's new book How Infrastructure Works is a hopeful, lyrical – even beautiful – hymn to the systems of mutual aid we embed in our material world, from sewers to roads to the power grid. It's a book that will make you see the world in a different way – forever:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/612711/how-infrastructure-works-by-deb-chachra/

Chachra structures the book as a kind of travelogue, in which she visits power plants, sewers, water treatment plants and other "charismatic megaprojects," connecting these to science, history, and her own memoir. In so doing, she doesn't merely surface the normally invisible stuff that sustains us all, but also surfaces its normally invisible meaning.

Infrastructure isn't merely a way to deliver life's necessities – mobility, energy, sanitation, water, and so on – it's a shared way of delivering those necessities. It's not just that economies of scale and network effects don't merely make it more efficient and cheaper to provide these necessities to whole populations. It's also that the lack of these network and scale effects make it unimaginable that these necessities could be provided to all of us without being part of a collective, public project.

Think of the automobile versus public transit: if you want to live in a big, built up city, you need public transit. Once a city gets big enough, putting everyone who needs to go everywhere in a car becomes a Red Queen's Race. With that many cars on the road, you need more roads. More roads push everything farther apart. Once everything is farther apart, you need more cars.

Geometry hates cars. You can't bargain with geometry. You can't tunnel your way out of this. You can't solve it with VTOL sky-taxis. You can't fix it with self-driving cars whose car-to-car comms let them shave down their following distances. You need buses, subways and trams. You need transit. There's a reason that every plan to "disrupt" transportation ends up reinventing the bus:

https://stanforddaily.com/2018/04/09/when-silicon-valley-accidentally-reinvents-the-city-bus/

Even the cities we think of as motorists' paradises – such as LA – have vast, extensive transit systems. They suck – because they are designed for poor people – but without them, the city would go from traffic-blighted to traffic-destroyed.

The dream of declaring independence from society, of going "off-grid," of rejecting any system of mutual obligation and reliance isn't merely an infantile fantasy – it also doesn't scale, which is ironic, given how scale-obsessed its foremost proponents are in their other passions. Replicating sanitation, water, rubbish disposal, etc to create individual systems is wildly inefficient. Creating per-person communications systems makes no sense – by definition, communications involves at least two people.

So infrastructure, Chachra reminds us, is a form of mutual aid. It's a gift we give to ourselves, to each other, and to the people who come after us. Any rugged individualism is but a thin raft, floating on an ocean of mutual obligation, mutual aid, care and maintenance.

Infrastructure is vital and difficult. Its amortization schedule is so long that in most cases, it won't pay for itself until long after the politicians who shepherded it into being are out of office (or dead). Its duty cycle is so long that it can be easy to forget it even exists – especially since the only time most of us notice infrastructure is when it stops working.

This makes infrastructure precarious even at the best of times – hard to commit to, easy to neglect. But throw in the climate emergency and it all gets pretty gnarly. Whatever operating parameters we've designed into our infra, whatever maintenance regimes we've committed to for it, it's totally inadequate. We're living through a period where abnormal is normal, where hundred year storms come every six months, where the heat and cold and wet and dry are all off the charts.

It's not just that the climate emergency is straining our existing infrastructure – Chachra makes the obvious and important point that any answer to the climate emergency means building a lot of new infrastructure. We're going to need new systems for power, transportation, telecoms, water delivery, sanitation, health delivery, and emergency response. Lots of emergency response.

Chachra points out here that the history of big, transformative infra projects is…complicated. Yes, Bazalgette's London sewers were a breathtaking achievement (though they could have done a better job separating sewage from storm runoff), but the money to build them, and all the other megaprojects of Victorian England, came from looting India. Chachra's family is from India, though she was raised in my hometown of Toronto, and spent a lot of her childhood traveling to see family in Bhopal, and she has a keen appreciation of the way that those old timey Victorian engineers externalized their costs on brown people half a world away.

But if we can figure out how to deliver climate-ready infra, the possibilities are wild – and beautiful. Take energy: we've all heard that Americans use far more energy than most of their foreign cousins (Canadians and Norwegians are even more energy-hungry, thanks to their heating bills).

The idea of providing every person on Earth with the energy abundance of an average Canadian is a horrifying prospect – provided that your energy generation is coupled to your carbon emissions. But there are lots of renewable sources of energy. For every single person on Earth to enjoy the same energy diet as a Canadian, we would have to capture a whopping four tenths of a percent of the solar radiation that reaches the Earth. Four tenths of a percent!

Of course, making solar – and wind, tidal, and geothermal – work will require a lot of stuff. We'll need panels and windmills and turbines to catch the energy, batteries to store it, and wires to transmit it. The material bill for all of this is astounding, and if all that material is to come out of the ground, it'll mean despoiling the environments and destroying the lives of the people who live near those extraction sites. Those are, of course and inevitably, poor and/or brown people.

But all those materials? They're also infra problems. We've spent millennia treating energy as scarce, despite the fact that fresh supplies of it arrive on Earth with every sunrise and every moonrise. Moreover, we've spent that same period treating materials as infinite despite the fact that we've got precisely one Earth's worth of stuff, and fresh supplies arrive sporadically, unpredictably, and in tiny quantities that usually burn up before they reach the ground.

Chachra proposes that we could – we must – treat material as scarce, and that one way to do this is to recognize that energy is not. We can trade energy for material, opting for more energy intensive manufacturing processes that make materials easier to recover when the good reaches its end of life. We can also opt for energy intensive material recovery processes. If we put our focus on designing objects that decompose gracefully back into the material stream, we can build the energy infrastructure to make energy truly abundant and truly clean.

This is a bold engineering vision, one that fuses Chachra's material science background, her work as an engineering educator, her activism as an anti-colonialist and feminist. The way she lays it out is just…breathtaking. Here, read an essay of hers that prefigures this book:

https://tinyletter.com/metafoundry/letters/metafoundry-75-resilience-abundance-decentralization

How Infrastructure Works is a worthy addition to the popular engineering books that have grappled with the climate emergency. The granddaddy of these is the late David MacKay's open access, brilliant, essential, Sustainable Energy Without the Hot Air, a book that will forever change the way you think about energy:

https://memex.craphound.com/2009/04/08/sustainable-energy-without-the-hot-air-the-freakonomics-of-conservation-climate-and-energy/

The whole "Without the Hot Air" series is totally radical, brilliant, and beautiful. Start with the Sustainable Materials companion volume to understand why everything can be explained by studying, thinking about and changing the way we use concrete and aluminum:

https://memex.craphound.com/2011/11/17/sustainable-materials-indispensable-impartial-popular-engineering-book-on-the-future-of-our-built-and-made-world/

And then get much closer to home – your kitchen, to be precise – with the Food and Climate Change volume:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/06/methane-diet/#3kg-per-day

Reading Chachra's book, I kept thinking about Saul Griffith's amazing Electrify, a shovel-ready book about how we can effect the transition to a fully electrified America:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/09/practical-visionary/#popular-engineering

Chachra's How Infrastructure Works makes a great companion volume to Electrify, a kind of inspirational march to play accompaniment on Griffith's nuts-and-bolts journey. It's a lyrical, visionary book, charting a bold course through the climate emergency, to a world of care, maintenance, comfort and abundance.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/17/care-work/#charismatic-megaprojects

My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!

#pluralistic #books #reviews #deb chachra #debcha #engineering #infrastructure #free energy #material science #abundance #scarcity #mutual aid #maintenance #99 percent invisible #colonialism #gift guide

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murdrdocs · 1 year

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(NSFW) stepsister with virgin!ethan landry PA LEASE🖤

he stalks her.he likes calling her dumb and pretty.ADD ANYTHING YOU’RE COMFORTABLE WITH🖤

YUPPP no smut just plot :)

He’s so condescending. So mean, he thinks he’s better than you, only because he just happens to be a few months older. “Sibling superiority. You do what I say,” he’s told you many, many, times. Each time, you roll your eyes and flip him off, secretly feeling giddy at the way he smiles at you afterwards.

You remember when your mom told you about Wayne, you felt indifferent. You were gonna go off to college incredibly soon, nothing would change about your household for now. Sure, holiday’s would be slightly different, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Until Wayne told you that both of his children would also be going to Blackmore University.

Until you merged houses and saw just how different life with the Baileys was going to be.

There was only maybe two weeks between moving in with the Baileys, and move in day. And those two weeks were spent sharing glances with Ethan that were too heavy to be familial.

The way he treated you was so … off. Eyeing you with a heavy gaze as you walked around the house in shorts, watching you during family dinners, offering to take you places that one time your car was in the shop whenever you could’ve sworn that he hated you. He was so back and forth, such a hypocrite, spewing insults at you and then hanging out in your room afterwards.

“You’re such a dumb little girl. Not a single thought in your head.”

“Too busy worrying about looking pretty to even understand how the economy works, huh?”

And that same night you were a few paces to your bedroom when he was coming out, looking sheepish upon running into you.

“I … uh … left my charger in your room from the other night.”

“The night when you had nothing better to do than lay in my bed and watch Tenet with me?”

A curt nod and he was scurrying across the hall to his room. (You lost two pairs of underwear since that visit and you can’t figure out where they’ve gone to)

And when you get to Blackmore, you have hopes that he’ll leave you alone, hopefully you’ll peel off into different friend groups. But no such luck befalls upon you, since you, Quinn, and Ethan all wind up in the same friend group.

You swear he’s following you. There’s been many times that you’ve checked your Life360 to find where Mindy was, and Ethan’s icon is entirely too close to you, especially when you know he has a class on the other side of the campus.

Annika makes a cruel joke that your new step brother has a crush on you. You laugh it off.

But you wouldn’t mind it.

#but stepbro :O #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream 6 fanfic #celeste writes scream

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callmewrinkles3 · 10 months

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Long Live - DR3 x fem!OC

Summary: An early morning phone call, a failed concussion exam, and an Instagram post lead to just one thing. A statement from Red Bull Racing released the Thursday morning before Silverstone. Oracle Red Bull Racing regret that Max Verstappen has failed his concussion assessment following his crash at the Red Bull Ring last week. Max is doing well, but as per the medical advice he will not drive in the event this weekend. In his place Third Driver Daniel Ricciardo will drive the RB19 for this weekend.

Warnings: Mentions of past crashes, Blake and Em scheming, mentions of cheating (not our loves!)

Words: 8.6k

A/N: Happy Danny Ric Race Week! This has been planned for…yeah so long. So, so long. Silverstone has been where so much of our stuff hinged and we’re so excited to get to share at last. Let us know what you think.

July 2023

Em glared at her suitcase. Dan’s was neatly packed - not that he needed much, his outfit for the weekend was jeans and Red Bull merch. But she needed a week and a bit of clothes for their time in Northamptonshire, plus changes. And with a limited supply thanks to the now prominent bump she was miserable about it. But they had to leave in the next few minutes or they might be late getting to Silverstone.

“You packed?” Dan asked, watching her shake her head. “Does the new stuff help?”

“Yeah. It feels ok.” The box had been sitting at reception waiting for them when they got back from the whistle stop trip to Perth, a gift from Lewis when he found out about her pregnancy. She’d mentioned once or twice that she hated the feel of some fabrics, and the clothes were soft and stretchy, comfortable for her and the baby. She was wearing one of them now, a lilac empire waist dress with black leggings that helped support her belly.

“Gimme a sec.” His phone started ringing almost too loudly for seven fifteen, Em zipping the case but leaving it for Dan to lift. Charlie had texted a photo of the brunch she and Blake had gone for that morning. He wasn’t back until the tyre test, and she missed having him there.

“Emmy?” Dan sounded dazed as he came into the room.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

It was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I’m driving this weekend. I…I’m in the car this weekend. Max didn’t pass concussion protocol, the new rules are if you don’t pass it before Thursday morning you don’t pass for the weekend. I’m in his car. Fuck. I’m driving.”

He lifted her with a grin, spinning her around and holding as tightly as he could before Em kissed her husband, separating with a grin.

“You’re driving the RB19? For the race?”

“Yeah.”

“We need to tell everyone.”

It was a frantic phone call to Blake as they piled into the car, Dan putting the bags in the boot. The first two attempts went unanswered, but finally the third was answered.

“Dan I swear to God I used to leave you and Em alone when you were-“

“Blake it’s Em. I’m using his phone.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry. What’s up Timmy?”

“You and Charlie need to get on a plane. Dan’s driving this weekend. Max is out after the crash last week, he’s in.”

They’d watched the race the previous weekend from Perth, Checo crashing into Max at turn three and pushing them both off track. The two cars had been pushed into the barrier, Max losing consciousness for a moment. Em had watched terrified until she heard him over the radio, Dan gripping her hand tightly. It could have been so much worse, especially on a weekend already filled with tragedy.

“Fuck. Seriously? What time is it what can we get?” Blake’s voice came through the speakers in the car as Em was already searching flights. She turned the tablet to Dan, pointing at the direct Qantas one and the five tickets she had ready to go.

“I’m booking you on the Qantas direct, you get in here at five tomorrow morning. Give Callum a call, tell him to come too. I’ve business for Joe and Grace, the three of you are stuck in economy I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t matter, we’ll get there. Somehow. You sure about Cal?” It was Charlie speaking and Em smiled.

“Positive. He’ll love it, we’ve got the passes. He can watch the race from the garage.”

“Ok. I’m gonna get packed and call Cal. Want me to pick up your parents?”

“They’ll probably pick you up, you’re at Charlies?” The organisation decided, Charlie promised to text when the five of them were at the airport. While Dan drove Em got on the phone with Qantas, putting on her charm and using her surname liberally so she could try get seats organised. It wasn’t much, but Charlie and Blake had a row to themselves and Callum had extra leg room so it was a little more comfortable.

The last thing she could do before relaxing for the drive was stare at her instagram account. The original plan was she’d wait at the hotel for the night so the pregnancy news could die down. But now she had to be there in just two hours. The post was written, ready to go, the carefully staged photos of their vans and the baby ones Dan had bought the day after they found out she was pregnant but had hidden until things were safe. The tiny little scan photo showing their bean. This was real.

“Ready for the world to know you knocked me up?” It was crude and blunt and made Dan laugh so it was worth it, Em grinning as his laughter filled the car.

“Ready for the world to know you’re stuck with me forever?”

“Feels right.”

She hit post, waiting for the chaos. Red Bull were announcing that Max was out at 9.30, so hopefully that would start to overshadow everything. Carefully she read the caption again and smiled at it. Baby Ric. Half Brit, half Aussie, already the coolest kid in the world. We really can’t wait to meet you, sunshine.

This was a good thing. Everyone who needed to know was aware that she was announcing it this weekend. Limited comments made it easy, the people she’d met mostly through Dan commenting congratulations publicly. She could breathe. The world was always going to find out about the baby but this made being pregnant real to her. It was actually happening.

They were nearly to the track when Dan’s phone rang again, Em hitting answer on the car screen.

“Hey Grace, Dan’s driving. We’re almost there.”

“Emmy, how’re you feeling? We’re waiting at the gate, the plane’s here and we should be on soon.”

“I’m good. News about the baby is officially out now.”

“How do you feel?”

“Excited. I think. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Fly safe, tell everyone I love them.”

The roads around the track were closed to the public, Dan getting through when he showed his paddock pass and people recognised him. Finally they were in the car park, pulling into the Red Bull Driver spot. This was real.

“You ready for this?” Em asked, watching as her husband ran his fingers through his hair, the thick gold band glinting in the sun.

“Yeah. I think I am. I want this. I want to be there, I want to drive well. I want to be on that podium again. Do you think I can do it?” It was the most honest he’d been about driving, the most open he’d been apart from nights in bed where only the dark surrounded them.

“Yes. I know you can do this. This is the track where you had your first race, where you did your first test. You can do this, Danny. I believe in you.” His smile lit up at her words as he put his hand on her belly, leaning down to press a kiss to it.

“And for this little one. Can’t embarrass her at the first race people know about her.”

“I thought we agreed it was they until we know?”

“She’s a girl. I know it. Because Lulu isn’t going to make us argue over a boys name, are you sweetheart?” It was quiet for a moment before Dan squeezed her fingers. “Time to face the media.”

“Let’s go.”

The first person in a Red Bull shirt they spotted was Simon, a smile spreading across Em’s face as she saw him. He was sticking to hospitality for most of the weekend, but agreed to help out if needed. It didn’t take long for them to be at the paddock gates, Em staring at them with trepidation.

“Good luck. Lewis went in about five minutes ago with Roscoe, that might have pulled some photogs away. People are delighted for you, there’s gonna be good wishes.”

She nodded at Simon before stepping through the gate, scanning her pass and waiting for Dan. It felt so different to a usual race weekend with him. There was no Michael around, no Blake yet, no bags being carried with helmets or gear. That was all coming down, it’d be there. Right now they needed to make it to Red Bull. She’d sit in hospitality or walk down to Aston to say hi to Lawrence, depending on what was going on. It was fine.

“Daniel! Emma! Congratulations! How does it feel to be driving?” The news had filtered out and questions were being thrown around but Dan just smiled and waved as they made it through the paddock. Different kids and fans came up with hats and merch to sign and he signed it all, Em standing there and fiddling with the FEA bracelet that she rarely took off. A couple of parents made small talk with her while the kids got photos with Dan, running off grinning. But finally they were at the Energy Station.

The moment they arrived in there was rapturous applause, a banner across the seating area with “IT’S A RICCIARDO” and a stork on it. Em blushed and grinned while Dan put an arm around her waist to hold her close as he nodded.

“Thanks guys, thanks. Much appreciated. Any idea where I’m supposed to go?”

“Engineering in five.” Christian stepped up as most of the team went back to where they were supposed to be. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. I know I already said it, but I mean it. You deserve some happiness. Em if you want to stay here feel free, or if you want to go up to Dan’s driver room you can. Is Blake around?”

“On his way back from Perth.” Em pulled a notebook from her handbag, flipping it open with practiced ease. “I’m back to work at least until he’s here, he wasn’t going to come back until testing. What do you need?”

“Just wanted to check timings. I got an email from him for four paddock passes, is that right? Charlie Clarke, Callum Clarke, and Dan’s parents?”

“Yeah. Blake’s partner, her brother, and my in laws. Are they ok?”

“Of course, yeah. You know that. Just wanted to be sure, they’ll be ready for tomorrow. We’ve an engineering briefing, Dan’s in the TV pen. I was going to send someone from PR with him, if you want to put a Red Bull shirt on you can follow him recording Em if you like. Whatever suits. Here’s the list of interviewers”

“Thanks Christian. Give me an hour?”

“Of course. See you in a couple Dan.”

She kissed her husband as chastely as they ever could, smiling at him.

“You know this car inside out. You know it as well as you know me. You know how it behaves. They would be putting Yuki in it and putting you in the Alpha Tauri if they had any doubts about you. You can do this, Baby.” Dan smiled and squeezed her hand before he left.

She sat in the hospitality with tea in front of her, her tablet open tracking the flight from Perth as she drank her tea and ran down the list of interviewers. It’d be easy, and her bump was still small enough that a large tee would be wearable. A woman sat beside her and she smiled.

“Em? Right? I’m Carola.” Em smiled at the other woman, switching off the screen.

“Nice to meet you. You’re Checo’s wife? It’s so lovely to meet you, I’ve seen you at a couple of races.”

“You too. Congratulations. This is your first?”

“It’s our first baby, yeah.” It didn’t hurt as much to say that anymore. Admitting it was the their first baby was true.

“It’s pretty great. This is our fourth, I’m due in October.”

They chatted for a few moments, Dan returning a few minutes later with a shirt for her.

“Vicky said she’d do it with me, but if you want to feel free. Wanna do it?”

“Yeah, let’s.” Dan took her hand to help her up. “We’ll talk later? It’s lovely to meet you Carola, but work calls.”

“Oh?” She seemed confused and Em smiled.

“My day job is his assistant. And his manager’s, but Blake isn’t here today. Time to get going!”

She followed Dan to the pen, smiling and staying out of the cameras as he answered the questions. It was mostly about the car and getting into it, but Ted at Sky couldn’t resist it.

“And your wife is at the track with you today, how does it feel to be able to tell everyone you’re having a baby?”

“Well Em is doing the hard work! But yeah, we’re excited. Its been a really, really good week for us.”

“That’s great. Congratulations to both of you.”

Em ended up back in hospitality while Dan was doing more work, but this time making phone calls left, right, and centre. Every hotel had a call in if they had a spare room, and she finally managed to get a caravan delivered to beside where Dan’s motorhome was. They could put Grace and Joe in the motorhome, Callum on the motorhome couch, and the other four would fit in the caravan. It was tight but could do it. Carola sat beside her as she ended the final call.

“Busy?”

“Yeah. Dan’s parents are flying in from Perth, so getting a caravan for them. How’re you? Are the kids here?”

“No they’re at home. How long have you worked with Daniel?” She was quiet as she spoke, younger than Em.

“Nearly four years? Japan 2019 was my first official race, but we were friends and together for years before that. I was complaining about work, Blake needed an assistant, so here I am.”

“He wanted you to travel?”

“Definitely. Being apart hurt. We’re working out how next year will go if he gets a seat, it’s gonna be toughs with a baby. But it’s worth it.”

“You’ll travel with the baby?”

“Definitely. Dan wants to be hands on and around for everything. We’ll make it work.”

“Oh. Well, this is my first time at Silverstone. Can you tell me about it?”

They chatted until Checo came over and saw them talking, speaking to his wife in Spanish before Carola said goodbye and they went to their own motorhome. Dan was a bit longer, coming back and giving her a kiss.

“Have fun?”

“I have a caravan beside your motorhome, and I had a really good chat with Carola. She’s lovely.”

“Checo’s wife?”

“Yeah. She’s sweet.”

The night was filled with nerves for both of them, different to any other race that Dan had done. Nights before fp1 before were easier. He knew the car. This time it was a car he’d never driven in real life before, but she was determined to be positive. He deserved at least that.

The news that the flight had landed woke them up, Blake promising to make their way up after they showered and ate. It’d be fine, they’d arrive in time for fp2 so she could relax then.

The yells for Dan as they walked into the paddock that morning were overwhelming. There was fans wearing ancient Aston Martin Red Bull 3 hats to make them grin, Em following her husband and holding his hand the entire way through.

Usually she’d be working away but Dan had told her to enjoy it. So she was, sitting in the garage with headphones on, watching as GP gave Dan some last minute encouragement. There he was in his race suit, helmet under his arm as he came across.

“Go fast and be safe.” He grinned as she spoke, kissing her quickly.

“I can do this, right?”

“Of course you can. I’m gonna be right here when you come back.”

She stayed in that spot for the full sixty minutes, watching as they got him used to the car. He wasn’t setting the timing screen alight, but he was firmly in the top ten. And in a sick delight that she’d never admit he was above the McLarens. She’d had to keep her mouth shut around Brown at all times, beating Lando and Oscar gave her a joy.

Instead of hospitality for lunch she went over to Mercedes while Dan was in meetings. Susie had promised a chat, and the two women sat in the sunlight with Roscoe sitting on the bench beside them. Em ate her wrap while petting the dog, promising to stay there for a few minutes while Susie ran back in. Now that she was officially the enemy she couldn’t go in like before, but being with someone was fine.

“Emmy!” She turned and saw Grace a little bit away, her mother in law wrapping her in a hug. Em relaxed against her, nodding at everyone else.

“Hey, it’s so good to see you all. Blake, Dan’s in engineering meetings. P6 in practice, Checo was P1. They seem happy so far.” Blake nodded and she watched him kiss Charlie before jogging towards the Red Bull Energy Station. “Welcome to Silverstone. I’m just waiting for Susie to come back and take Roscoe, then I’ll show you around.”

“Em. That’s not…is it?” Callum asked, Em smiling.

“Want to pet Lewis’ dog? He’s so sweet.”

The way Callum lit up petting the dog was great, and it wasn’t long until Susie was back with his lead to take Roscoe inside with a wave. Em led everyone else back to the Energy Station and found a table for them all.

“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze, but we’ve made it work. Grace, Joe, you’ve got Dan’s motorhome-“

“But he needs his-“

“It’s Dan. Do you think he’d be ok if you weren’t being looked after? You’re in there. I managed to get a two bed caravan brought in. It’s tight, but Charlie, you and Blake have one room. Dan and I are in the other. Sorry Cal, you’re stuck on the couch.”

“That’s fine. Thanks, Em. Seriously. I never thought I’d be here.”

“Enjoy every minute of it. You can watch from the garage if you like, or I got you a grandstand ticket too. Whatever you want.”

“You’re amazing.” He reached around her shoulder for a hug, Em giving him one before taking a deep breath.

“I’m just really glad you’re all here. It’s been a whirlwind.”

“How’s the baby?”

“They’re fine. We’re good. Just tired. It’s gonna be a week with everything. But it’s ok.” Dan came by a few moments later with his race suit tied around his hips.

“Navy suits you,” Joe told him and Em could see the pride on her in-laws faces at their son. Dan put his hand on her stomach for a moment as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“Good to see you. We can get dinner later? I’ve been in meetings all day when I’m not in the car, GP reckons they can let me go an hour or so after practice if nothing weird comes up. But practice in ten. Cal, you coming into the garage for it?”

“What?”

“C’mon.” Em went to stand up but Dan stopped her. “Stay there, you’ve been on your feet all day. I’ll be back in a little while.”

“Go fast and be safe.”

“Promise.”

The four who were left stayed in hospitality to watch practice, Em glad to be in the air conditioning. She relaxed with them to watch, greeting Dan as he came back. Their group was just back at the caravans when her phone rang.

“Is that Emma Ricciardo?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hi, I’m calling from Hilton Silverstone. We have a room available, you said you wanted it?”

“I’ll be there in ten. Thank you!” She hung up and went into the one they were sharing, Callum on the couch looking at his phone.

“Grab your stuff.”

“Huh?”

“I got you a hotel room, c’mon. We’re going. I’m gonna tell Dan, maybe we can give Blake and your sister some privacy.”

“They’re in that new love touchy feely mode. It’s not fun.”

“It is for them.”

She filled Dan in on what she was doing, her husband grinning and kissing her quickly. Grace was making dinner for them all, they’d eat in the motor home and give Blake and Charlie a bit of privacy. When he went into the second bedroom to say it she heard a yell, followed by Dan’s “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

By the time they were outside Callum had his stuff in the boot of Em’s little Fiat, Em sitting in to bring him. Security was strict, showing her pass nearly not enough to get her to the hotel car park. Finally they were in and Callum got out, waving and promising to meet them in hospitality in the morning. He was a grown adult, he could do what he wanted to.

Saturday morning Em was exhausted. Her stomach was filled with butterflies for the last couple of days thanks to stress and nerves, and she was terrified watching Dan go out in the car. But she had to trust everyone on that pit wall had her husband’s best interests at heart. If they didn’t then Dan wouldn’t get in the car.

She’d forgotten what it felt like to arrive at a race as the partner of a driver. It was different compared to Thursday and Friday, now it was the business end of the weekend. It felt like every photo was of her bump, of how she kept one hand on top of it when she was speaking. The hugs her friends gave her were photographed and carefully checked. Chloe had texted her one of her and Lance with a grin and a it’s unfair my brother sees you before I do that Em had sent a selfie back to. Chloe’s fault for being in Colorado with Scotty.

That morning while Charlie and Dan were getting ready Em and Blake had a conversation about what this weekend could lead to. The ultimate goal was a seat for Dan with Red Bull. But Em’s photos with people around the paddock would help with the media game and that was what she had to do. See her friends and people she liked, smile widely and get photos taken. It sucked that she had to, but the more it seemed like other teams were interested the more it would help.

Lawrence had known immediately what was happening, laughing with her and staring around at a photographer.

“Making it seem like we’ll sign Daniel? You know that it was never any of our-“

“Lawrence it wasn’t your fault. Or Seb’s. He apologised to Dan so many times last season. It all started from Monaco. I know for a fact there were discussions with people from Baku. You were at our wedding, you know we don’t blame Aston for anything.”

“I know. But still.”

“But nothing. How’re you doing? How’s Lance, I haven’t really talked to him much.”

They separated with the older man promising that the baby was receiving a bag of Aston Martin merch, Em laughing that Dan wouldn’t let it in the house as she said goodbye.

Practice was spent in the Energy Station, sipping a smoothie while she watched the screen. Joe sat beside her, Grace in the garage to watch for a while.

“Are you doing ok? I know Dan says he is, and I know you’ll pretend to the world you are, but are you really? You didn’t expect this.”

“Nobody expected it. It’s kind of insane.” She ran through the timeline with him, how Dan had come home from filming and in the sim the night before with no idea and then they were running so he’d make meetings and media. As she talked Max came into the room and sat at their table.

“Em. Joe. Sorry for putting Dan out like this, but he’s enjoying being in the car of course?”

“He is. Are you ok?”

In a different world Em thought they could have been close. Dan loved Max like a brother, and Em liked him as a person. But it was the people around him who she couldn’t stand. From the first time they’d met his father tried to make her feel less than, and Dan had told her the story of Kelly trying to ask him out shortly after she and Daniil had split up. She knew better than almost anyone how hard it was to cut those ties, but she couldn’t let herself be close to people who couldn’t cut them themselves.

“Getting there. I’m allowed look at screens now. Of course the crash was not my fault but that’s not something I can say outside. I spoke to Christian and he said we’d talk about it later. But this cannot continue.”

“I’m really glad you’re ok. We were watching, it was scary.”

“Thank you. You will tell Daniel that I was asking about him? They want to film something with the three of us later. He can be the padding.”

“We will. Look after yourself.”

He left and Joe looked at her with a small smile. “If I didn’t know about walls here and ears I’d say something.”

“It’s been bad. That’s all I’ll say.”

Red Bull had done well to hide how awful the relationship between the drivers was, but it was ice cold. Max barely acknowledged Checo when the cameras weren’t watching. There was a reason Dan was the one who was in all the videos with them. Max had only just left when Carola came over, taking a seat.

“Joe, have you met Carola? She’s Checo’s wife, she was so nice to me on Thursday when it was just us here. Carola, my father in law, Joe Ricciardo. I promise he’s not actually scary.” The younger woman smiled, holding out her hand for Joe to shake.

“You all came for the race?”

“Of course. Seeing Dan in a car again? With a team that supports him? The second we got the call we were looking for flights. Emmy had it organised, she was booking them already.”

“It was easier booking all five of you than everyone booking separately. I’m just glad we could.” It was quiet conversation between the three of them until Joe stood up.

“I‘ll stretch my legs. Em, text me if either of you ladies want anything. You don’t need to stand and get it, that’s what we’re for.” He left and Carola looked at Em confused.

“He’s Daniel’s dad, right? He acts like he’s yours.”

“We’re family. I’ve known him since before Dan and I started dating. It’s part of how I know Dan’s going to be such a good dad when the baby arrives. Plus, we’ve got a hard stop on when he’s driving.”

“Why?” The question was tinged with something more than just politeness, but Em kept going.

“He doesn’t want to miss the big events. The baby’s going to start school in 2027, so 2026 will be his last year if he gets a seat. We’ll be in Australia, it’s too far. It’s different for Louise, she’s in Europe. It’s even different for you, you’re in Mexico, right? How long is the flight?”

“Eleven hours to London. It’s ok.”

“Not bad. It’s seventeen from Perth if you get the direct one.”

“So Daniel will retire?”

“Yeah. I do most of the parenting till then, and then we swap. I get to decide what I want to do and he’ll be the main parent. It won’t be easy for us, but it’s what we want. Do you have photos of your kids? I think I saw them in Mexico last year but I wasn’t too well.”

“I remember! Daniel drove well. Here’s the three of them.”

It was oohing and awwing at the kids, Grace coming back and joining in. She pulled out the photos of Isaac and Isabella, Em feeling like she’d joined some secret club of parents who were so proud of their kids and their accomplishments. Carola was quiet, but she was nice to chat to. They’d never really be friends, they were too different, but having someone who knew the fear watching each race was something she could appreciate.

Finally it was time for qualifying. Em watched as Dan brought the car smoothly out of the pits, the car reacting just how he wanted it to. She hadn’t seen it like this since the Renault days, the car moving how he wanted it to. That smile as he put his helmet on, her and Callum standing listening to the radio. It was jarring hearing GP talk to Dan, but it fit somehow. She watched as he did his runs, not even the red flag stopping him from safely making it into Q2.

Em had nearly forgotten what it felt like to not worry about Dan going out in Q1. But she didn’t realise until the car was wheeled back in fully that Checo had been knocked out, the other driver’s face like thunder as he hopped out of the car and started the walk down to be weighed.

“That makes five in a row,” Callum whispered to her and Em shaking her head in response.

“Later. But I know.”

Q2 was tighter. Dan had told her that the only thing that Christian had said to him was he was expected to make it into Q3. Doing that was a good day for him with so little time in the car before now. She held her breath as Logan Sargeant had yet another lap time deleted, Daniel P10 and scraping through. Blake took her hand at the end of the round, squeezing once.

“He’s fine. He’s improving every lap, and he’s got a new set of softs for this. It’s Dan.”

“I know. I know.”

The last round was almost painful. Em held her breath as the chequered flag came out, Dan last to go across the line. He’d been in p10 until that lap, pushing him up into p5 and starting just behind the Ferraris.

“P5 Daniel. Great job, good spot for tomorrow.”

“Ah I’m sorry. It should have been higher.” She could hear the annoyance in himself as he spoke, wanting to hug her husband.

“Dan you did great. Little bit of traffic compromised the lap slightly and you still brought it home. This is a good base to go from tomorrow. Well done.”

The one thing that truly annoyed Em was that this was the first race McLaren had showed true promise in. A tractor of a car last year, unreliable and temperamental the year before, but now it was a front row lockout. Her annoyance at that team would always be there, but this was the time for her to smooth her face and grin because Dan had put in a hell of a performance. And beaten his teammate by eleven grid places. No big deal.

Dan was sent out early that night for an early arrival to the track the next morning. Everyone piled into the weird little golf cart to bring them back to the drivers campsites to relax. They were on the couch when Blake and Charlie stood up and grabbed their jackets.

“Blake’s bringing me on the ferris wheel and for food. There’s some of the nutritionist approved driver meals in the fridge, and I made sure there’s a bag of peach rings for you there too Em. We’ll be gone for oh, I dunno, three or four hours? Have fun!” Em laughed as the two of them left the exact same way she and Dan had the night before, leaning against her husband for a kiss.

“Does it make us old if I say I want food before anything else?” She asked, watching the grin spread on Dan’s face.

“Considering you’re growing a whole extra human no, no it doesn’t. You’re 18 weeks yesterday, right?”

“Yup. Almost halfway to meeting them.”

“Her.” She pushed against Dan to stand up, smiling as he got up.

“Them. We don’t find out for another three weeks. What if they’re a boy? What then?”

“Then I’ll love him all the same. But I just know. This baby is a girl, and she’s gonna be our Luna. Aren’t you, Lulu?”

“You need some food. C‘Mon. It’s an early night for race car drivers.”

Sunday morning dawned too early for both of them, staring at the clock until it was time to get up. It was real. Dan was driving in Silverstone again, and he was going to be in a good car. Em had so much faith in him.

“Promise me something?” She asked as he held her before they got out of bed.

“Anything.”

“Don’t leave anything out there. We don’t know what’s going to happen. But I don’t want you to have any regrets about this race or driving this car. Go out there and focus on driving as well as you can and as fast as you can. I’ve got faith in you, Danny.”

“I love you so much. I’m gonna do it. Alex bet me a hundred pounds that he’ll finish ahead of me. I’ve got to at least beat him.” Em giggled, laughing as Dan turned them over to kiss her before getting out of bed.

Getting ready to go to the paddock felt normal, and when they got into the main area of the caravan everyone was there with breakfast. Grace was cooking bacon and eggs, there were fresh rolls someone had gone out to get, and a big fruit salad in the middle of the table. The five others who were there clapped as Dan came out in an Enchante hoodie, Joe pointing to one of the seats.

“Your mother has food now, cmon and sit down. She texted Michael, he gave her a list of what to make.”

Em was missing the fourth member of their quartet. She’d hugged him briefly on Thursday, but there was so little time to see him. He had a week off in London and had promised to at least get lunch with her which was something. But she ate and laughed and walked into the paddock holding Dan’s hand for the fourth day in a row. They could do this. It’d be fine.

The mornings of races were usually chaotic, and this was no exception. She brought Callum upstairs to watch the F3 and F2 races from the roof of the garages, watching his face light up as he saw the cars battle it out.

“Would you do something like this? Charlie said you want to be a mechanic.”

“Not F1. The travel would kill me. I dunno how you and Dan and Blake do it. But a karting circuit or something, I’d like to help out there. My mates and I go most weeks, I usually help out with the mechanics there.” She nodded at him. All she’d known about him before the trip was he was Charlie’s brother, a massive F1 fan, and he recognised Blake the moment he walked into Charlie’s parents house. But he was smart and polite, and he didn’t let being starstruck stop him from chatting to other drivers. Watching him joke around with Esteban and Lance for a few moments when Lance had come over to say hi to her was a highlight.

Finally it was time for Dan to start going out. The cheer from the grandstand as his vintage car went past made Em grin broadly. No matter what she was going to enjoy this day. If this was the final race it was with people who cared about Dan, who wanted him to do well and loved him. That was more important than anything else.

“Your husband’s popular today.” Christian stood beside her and Em nodded.

“Isn’t it why you hired him? He’s always popular. I just want today to go well for him.”

“It will.” The certainty in his voice nearly startled her. “This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him before a race. Ever. I’ve got a good feeling about today.”

Dan came back in and changed before coming down, kissing Em and bending down to kiss her bump. She smiled with watery proud eyes before kissing his cheek.

“Remember what I said this morning. But more importantly, go fast and be safe. I love you.”

“I love you too, Wrinkles. See you on the other side.”

Waiting for the race to begin was an age. There was the trip to the grid, the grid walk playing on the telly beside her, and then the formation lap began. As it did Charlie stepped beside her, holding her hand tightly.

“You ok?” She asked, Em nodding.

“There’s a decent chance a camera will be on my face at some point. But yeah. I will be. I just want to watch Dan and make sure he’s ok.”

One ear on her headphones was Dan’s radio, the other was the commentary from Sky. The cars were lined up and she watched the lights blink off.

“And it’s lights out and away we go! Carlos Sainz had a slow getaway, letting Daniel Ricciardo in the Red Bull get the better of him. The two McLarens are still first and second, but they’ve got a Ferrari less than a second back, and a driver with something to prove currently in fourth.”

“Good work getting away, Daniel. Currently P4, P4, with-“

“I don’t want to know who’s ahead. Let me know if anyone behind me is coming close, but otherwise if I need to know I’ll ask, ok?”

“Understood.”

Fifty two laps went past quicker than Em could have thought. It was terrifying. She watched the screen on lap three as DRS was enabled and Dan slid on the inside of Charles around a corner.

“And I think the last of the late brakers is definitely back with us, that was classic Ricciardo right there.”

“Look at him, it’s such a difference to last year. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. He’s got his replacement in his sights and I don’t know if this McLaren can hold up much of a fight.”

“He’s not going to make it two overtakes in four corners is oh wait he is! That was skill and talent and trusting the car you’re in. I dare say that rivals a Lewis Hamilton in 2014 or 2015 overtake.”

“I think you’re right Crofty, he’s really making this count. Up to P2 now and we’re three laps in. Meanwhile his teammate lost a position at the start and is currently battling Tsunoda!”

Em stared at the timer, the gap between Dan and Lando dropping from three seconds to two, and finally he was inside DRS range. The rear wing opened and she watched her husband do the overtake on the McLaren car, pulling ahead and going around the corner in a sweeping motion.

The garage erupted in cheers from the pit crew watching the screens, “c’mon Danny boy!” heard from a couple of them. Em kept a hold of Charlie’s hand, breathing deeply with her other one kept steady on her bump. He could do this. He could do it. This was Monaco, but a fully working engine. This was the proof that Dan hadn’t lost everything. That the trust Red Bull had put in him wasn’t misplaced.

As the pit stops happened she rolled her shoulders to get some tension out, but he was still out there. Finally he was called back in, a nearly thirty second gap to Lewis behind him. It was tight, so tight that Em held her breath while he was in the pits, watching as he came out just ahead of Lewis. This was it.

“That’s Lewis one point three behind, try to open a gap so he doesn’t get into DRS. They’ve got some good race pace.”

“What about the McLarens?”

“Behind Lewis.”

“Copy. Clear to push to the end?”

“Clear to push.”

Dan’s soft tyres did what they were supposed to, pushing him forward and propelling him to a gap. Em watched everyone in the garage stand as the chequered flag was waved, her husband in P1 as tears fell down her face. He’d done it. He’d won at Silverstone and he’d won a race and he had nothing left to prove. Nothing.

“I’m sorry. I thought I’d get Carlos at the end. Sorry for not winning it for you.”

“Dan what are you talking about?”

“I’m P2, right?”

“Daniel it’s Christian. You were about to lap Carlos, he got a puncture and had to pit. You did it. You won the race.”

“I won?”

The shock in his voice was clear, Blake holding Em up as she listened. He didn’t even know.

“You won, mate. You’re a British Grand Prix winner and a nine time Grand Prix winner. Come on back in and pull up at the big number one.”

It felt like an instant that Em was pulled down to Parc Ferme, half walking, half running down the pit lane. Blake had one hand and Charlie had the other, and she knew she was on camera but she couldn’t care how she looked because she needed to see her husband right that moment.

The mechanics let her through to the barrier, standing beside GP and Christian. She knew Dr Marko was somewhere nearby but she ignored, focusing on the navy car pulling in and the roar of the crowd as Dan stopped the car. His head tilted forward against the steering wheel before he pulled it out and unbuckled his seatbelt. He got out and stood on the halo for a moment, thumping his chest three times. Em covered her mouth, the memories of Monaco and Monza hitting her full force. That was her husband. He’d won in Silverstone.

She watched him get weighed and then he ran straight across to grab her, leaning across the barrier to kiss her.

“You went fast.”

“I promised, didn’t I?”

“I’m so fucking proud of you right now, Baby. So proud. Go do a shoey for us?”

“Of course.”

She watched him get enveloped by the team, Christian grabbing him for a hug before Dan was brought over for his interview. Lewis and Lando both hijacked it, the younger driver’s “I mean his missus is British so technically this is also his home race, right?” Making the crowd cheer even louder. Finally they were led up to the drivers cooldown room and the podium.

His grin was impossible to miss. Dan stood on that top step, GP on the constructor’s podium as Advance Australia Fair rang out across Northamptonshire. She watched the champagne be sprayed in slow motion, Lewis and Lando taking full opportunity to spray him before Dan pulled his racing boot off and poured into it. The crowd was chanting “shoey” as he drank, holding the boot aloft like a goblet. The other drivers followed suit, even GP taking a sip before pouring the rest of it out. Em felt like she’d burst with pride as her entire family was there with them to celebrate Dan’s success.

It took an age for Dan to be free from press but Em didn’t mind. She walked the paddock to see friends, giving hugs to the drivers she knew well enough. Charles stopped her to specifically congratulate her on the pregnancy, giving a hug and promising to give her Italian baby books so the baby wouldn’t just speak English. He was disappointed after his race so she just hugged him and promised to cheer him on in the next one.

Finally Dan was free, and the hug he gave her was everything. The seven of them went for dinner together nearby, a private room that someone from Red Bull managed to get them. There was a party in his honour from Red Bull, Em insisting Dan at least showed his face at it. By nine he was back in the caravan they were sharing with Blake and Charlie, food on the table for the four of them as they curled up on the couches. Blake was the first one to break the silence.

“Christian asked me for a meeting tomorrow. Me and him while Dan’s prepping for the tyre test. The paddock rumour is Checo and his wife had a fight on Saturday night in his motorhome. She threatened to leave him.”

“Oh shit. Saturday was when we were talking and I told her our plans.” Em explained the entire conversation she had with Carola about Dan being an involved parent and the travel plans they had for the baby. Charlie started giggling as she spoke.

“You psyched her out! You showed her what her life could be like if he wasn’t a cheating cunt - do not shush me Blake Friend I didn’t care about F1 then and I saw the videos - and actually cared about his family. She’s setting her boundaries. Good for her!”

“Which means his seat is empty next season. Nyck’s gone from the summer. Alex Palou in Indycar is Marko’s preferred driver for that seat, but he can only take it after Monza because of the Indy season. He doesn’t know if Lawson can make the step up, and he doesn’t want Iwasa. Plus with the Yuki stuff I dunno.”

“Yuki stuff?” Dan asked as he speared a piece of chicken from the platter.

“Sauber want him. They think he could bring that car into the points regularly and learn from Bottas. So that could be two Alpha Tauri seats open for next year at least. Would you take one?”

“I mean I want Red Bull. But I know even with today it’s not guaranteed. I’d take it if the contract says I’m first driver and have first dibs on a Red Bull seat. But who would take that seat?”

“Max wants you.” Em was the one who spoke, making herself comfortable on Dan’s lap. She and Charlie were each on their partner’s laps, Dan’s hand protectively around her stomach. “We were talking for a few minutes on Saturday. If he got Nyck that seat - unproven Nyck De Vries who’d never been involved in Red Bull - him lobbying for you can get you the seat. We know Christian would be happy to have you back. I say go for the Red Bull. Checo was completely shown up this weekend. I love you Baby and you know I believe in you, but in any other team those results should have been reversed. He shouldn’t be beaten by the reserve.”

“Are you sure you’re ok with that?”

“I’m gonna head over to Grace and Joe, let you guys talk.” Charlie went to get up but Blake kept her still, Em turning to face her.

“You’re involved in this. You get a say. This only happens if it’s four yes votes.”

“I’m not involved in Dan’s career. I don’t need a say.”

“You’re Blake’s girlfriend. The two of you live together even if you don’t admit it. He’s going to be gone for weeks or months at a time and it’s hard. So yeah, you do have a say in this. As someone who was in your position before you definitely have a say.”

It was quiet between them for a few moments as they all thought. Em was the first to break the silence.

“I say yes. It’s going to be hell travelling with a baby, but if you want it then it’s a yes.”

“Yes.” Charlie looked at Blake as she spoke, her head resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder. “I just…yes. Today made me realise why Callum has loved racing for so many years. And yeah it’s gonna be hard and it’s gonna hurt and Blake and I will be moping around when we’re apart. But you’ve got a deadline, right?”

“End of 2026. The baby’s in pre-kindy from 2027, proper school the year after. We want to be well settled before that happens.” His hand rubbed Em’s bump as he spoke, Charlie nodding.

“I can do that. It’s a yes from me.” She faced Blake fully and Em felt like she was intruding watching them as Charlie’s voice got thick. “I love you. And this is going to be so hard. But we know it’ll be hard and that’s how we’ll make it through. We’ll figure it out somehow. But if they’re travelling the world with a baby then that child’s uncle Blake needs to be right there too, yeah? So we’re doing this.”

Blake pushed a kiss to his girlfriend’s forehead. “If Chuck says yes then I say yes. It’s all her.”

Em looked up at Dan, at the determination on his face. Her sunshine boy who’d won nine races, all of them at different tracks. Who deserved the world and who people finally realised was as talented as he’d always said he was.

“Yeah. I really want this. Thanks for letting me try for it.”

“Ooof.” The butterflies in her stomach solidified for a moment, a weird feeling against Em. “Oh my god. The baby agrees. They just kicked I think.”

“What? Seriously?” Dan pushed his hand on her belly and Em could feel the movement properly. Their baby was there and safe and was going to be fine.

“Yeah. They did it again when you pushed. So we’re doing this? Three more years of chaos?”

“Three more years of chaos.”

Em sat against her husband, their best friends on the other couch. Charlie had quickly become someone she trusted more than almost anyone else. She’d kept their secrets, and in return Em was going to do everything in her power to make sure that Blake and Charlie got their happy ending.

The good mood from the win stayed that way the entire night. It was a lazy, lazy night with them watching a movie. Callum texted Charlie that he was down at main stage before going back to his hotel, Joe and Grace stayed in their own motorhome. Everything was hitting Em all at once. Dan won Silverstone. He won her home race. As she went to bed that night it was all that she could think about.

The next morning was chaos. They had hotel rooms booked because of the tyre test, and the caravan and motor home were being taken back by the rental agency. Instead they were packing to move to the hotel, and Em handed Callum her Oyster card before he headed back to London with Grace and Joe. The three of them were staying in Dan and Em’s apartment for the tyre test before they spent time together after it. It was hugs goodbye until Dan and Blake dropped their respective partners off at the same hotel Callum had been staying in. The rooms weren’t ready, but Em and Charlie could sit in the restaurant until they were.

Em hugged Dan goodbye, kissing his cheek.

“Whatever happens this week, you won Silverstone. You have nothing to prove them. Don’t think you do.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Dimples.”

Beside her Charlie was doing the same goodbye, slipping her favourite necklace into Blake’s hand.

“What’s this for? You never take this off, you said it’s a family one.”

“Yeah well it’s for the next couple of hours to give you good luck. Not that you need it, but every little helps.”

“Thanks, Chuck. I love you.”

“Love you too. Go get him that seat, yeah?”

Em watched the two drive off before sitting with Charlie to wait. Now they actually knew what might happen she was ready but terrified.

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virtualmerchandise · 6 days

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Rexing S3 3-Channel Dash Cam Front, Cabin, Sides 1080P+1080p+1080p with Wi-Fi and GPS

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marzipanandminutiae · 4 months

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Saw your post about the infantilization of women, and the answer is capitalism! With the economy changing at such a rapid rate (for the worse), the milestones for adulthood (buying a house, having kids, paying off a car, ect) that were accomplished by generations prior are no longer attainable, at least not in the same timeframe as our parents. So with current millennials and Gen Z kids feeling like those life milestones are out of reach, they don’t have any affirmation that they “made it” to adulthood. If someone is in their late 20-30s but still has to rely financially on their parents or don’t expect to have a stable career even with secondary education, it’s no wonder they don’t feel like “adults”.

No, I get that (I'm 30 and working three part-time jobs + still living in shared housing out of necessity; trust me, I get it). What I'm wondering about, specifically, is how phrases invented by Millennial/Gen Z women that didn't start out infantilizing all seem to end up shifting in that direction. passenger princess, useless lesbian, girl dinner, etc.

my guess is the other side of capitalism- the marketing side -and misogyny. "women as silly fluffy little creatures" is easier to parlay into advertising since it plays to existing stereotypes

and in the case of passenger princess, the long-standing tradition of The Straights taking gay slang (or gay dating app jokes, in this case) and warping it totally out of shape

#ask #anon

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howaboutcastiel · 2 years

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How Do I Ask? (Marc Spector x F!Reader)

[18+] VERY NSFW PLEASE GO AWAY CHILDREN [18+]

Summary: Marc is usually the one to initiate sex. At this point, the reader doesn’t even know how to seduce him (it usually doesn’t require any effort). When the reader wants a change of pace from him, though, she must deal with the conundrum of being the one to make the first move.

Word Count: 5.4k

Based on an anon request! Lots of love to that mystery person <3 I took some… liberties with the plot. Reader is my body type so sorry skinny gals and NB/FTM babes.

Content: Smut, Like a lot of smut, porn-IS-the-plot kinda smut. Protected sex (we’re not getting pregnant in THIS economy). Oral (M), roughness, a little bit of angst but it's horny angst. Oops there's 2k words of foreplay you can skip that if you want.

You loved the way that your boyfriend Marc made love to you. His gentleness, his selflessness, and even his patience was completely unmatched. Whenever the two of you found yourself in his bed—or his couch, or his shower, or the backseat of his car, or even his kitchen table—you knew that he was there to take care of you. It was such a warm, wholesome feeling that you never wanted to live without.

That being said…

Sometimes you longed for something… rougher. Sure, you enjoyed yourself when you had sex with Marc. Hell, he made sure that you always enjoyed yourself, often putting your needs before his own. That’s just the kind of man that he is. But there was only so much gentleness you could take. Only so much of Marc holding himself back. You knew the kind of man he was when he was out in the world. The brutal, cunning, ruthless, deranged warrior that he tried too hard to shake off when he came through your door each night.

Sometimes you wanted that man.

You wanted him to fuck you into the mattress so hard you couldn’t walk the next day. For him to grab you by the throat and use your body for whatever his liking. You longed for the roughness, for you to know that he’s not holding anything back. You knew of his secret, raw, semi-sadistic darker desires. You could see them in his eyes when he looked at you sometimes. God, how you wanted to fulfill those needs. In many ways, you would be fulfilling your own at the same time.

But you didn’t know how to ask. Marc was very averse to the idea of hurting you. Of taking advantage of you. Of scaring you. You didn’t know how to explain to him that that was exactly what you wanted from him. You longed for every single part of him, including the part that wished to treat you like a piece of meat after a long day of doing Khonshu’s bidding. You were just as attracted to his cold vigilante power complex as you were to his undying need to protect you from it.

You didn’t know how to say that, though.

It was just past 7:30 when Marc walked through the door to your now-shared apartment. This was the first time you’d ever moved in with a boyfriend. Marc was a lot of firsts for you, in fact. You could tell as soon as he entered the room that he was too tired to go prowl the streets in his Moon Knight suit. He was practically already turned in for the night as he drew in a breath and smelled your delicious cooking waft from the stove.

“Hey, honey,” His voice was husky and low, indicating that he was hiding a bit of stress from his day. You knew him this well by now. You didn’t turn to face him as he approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your back and planting his chin on your shoulder. A gentle kiss found its way to your cheek, followed by a soft groan from him. “What you cooking? It smells delicious.”

“Bolognese.” You turned your head so that his second kiss found your lips, only a tiny bit stronger than the first. He held you like you were a fragile thing, delicate and priceless. You wanted to ask him to hug you tighter; you wanted to feel his strength against you. “Go wash up, baby. It’ll be ready pretty soon.”

He hummed into your ear as he dropped his hands, stopping to pinch your ass on his way toward the guest bathroom. That was about as much teasing as Marc was willing to do. Respecting your boundaries was his number one priority when it came to your love. He would never do anything to risk running you off; he couldn’t bear to lose you. Sure, he would initiate sex just about every time you had it, but he would never, ever touch you without explicit consent.

You knew that made him a wonderful man that you were lucky to have. But sometimes you wanted the other side of him. The so-called monster. The killer.

“Do you want me to set the table?” His voice startled you from your thoughts. You were feeling particularly racy tonight; you couldn’t put your finger on why. But you knew, the more his voice trickled into your ears, gruff and sultry as ever, that you were practically in heat. You were going to have to ask him to do something. You needed him. The other side of him.

You needed him bad. But God, how could you ask?

“That would be great, babe.” If only you could just make it through dinner. Just ten or fifteen minutes of small-talk. You could use the time to rack your brain for some way to convince him. To make him lose himself in you. He looked like he could be in the perfect mood. He was just slightly stressed, maybe a bit unhinged, but ever-so-slightly too tired to use what was pent up to do any real violence tonight. He wouldn’t go out and break anything tonight. Maybe you could convince him to break you.

Just get through dinner first.

He planted another kiss on your cheek as he slid behind you to the cupboard where your good china was kept. Marc had an unspoken rule about eating your home-cooked meals; he would never cheapen the experience with cheap dinnerware. He appreciated the wholesome domesticity that you helped cultivate for him. It was something he hadn’t experienced in nearly three decades. There was no way in hell he wasn’t going to do everything in his power to let you know how much it meant to him.

You had to restrain yourself from scarfing down your meal in record time. Marc raised his eyebrow at the way you held your fork. He couldn’t decide if you were scared of it or if you were so ravenous that you couldn’t fathom the meal. He made little noises as he ate from his own bowl. Partly to show you how much he enjoyed the food, partly to drive you crazy with his teasing moans and grunts. You looked so cute when you blushed at him, he couldn’t help himself.

But once dinner was finally over, the teasing halted where it normally would move forward. Marc would usually start by being just a bit too handsy with you, testing the waters to see if you were okay with moving forward at that moment. He would plant tiny kisses on your exposed skin, not even anywhere too cheeky. He would kiss the back of your hand, or your cheek, or even your forehead before he got the indication that you were in a sexual mood, but he always made it clear that he was asking.

Not tonight.

Tonight you watched as he plopped down on the creaky old sofa, clicking the TV to some rugby game between two teams you barely knew the names of. He seemingly took no notice as you sat down beside him, still unsure of how to communicate to him your burning need. And by now, burning was quite literal as you felt the familiar heat pooling under your belly. You ran a hand through his hair and he absentmindedly leaned into your touch. He wrapped an arm around your torso, holding you to his side as his eyes never moved from the screen.

Is something wrong? He almost always wants sex. Especially when you have so much free time in one night. He must be feeling really exhausted. Hell, could he be sick or something? Maybe you were wrong about the signals he was sending before.

You planted a hesitant kiss on his neck, feeling to make sure he wasn’t feverish. It was silly, but he never paid so little attention to you. Or at least it felt that way. In reality, he wasn’t acting much different than normal, but your overdriven senses couldn’t function when all they perceived was that he wasn’t worked up for you. You were going to have to get him hot and bothered on your own.

Your face nuzzled into his neck, you couldn’t see the cunning smile creep across his face. He’d known, to some extent at least, what was up with you the moment he came home. He had felt you leaning into his touch as you cooked dinner, had watched you blush and space out as you all but ignored the dinner you had worked so hard to make for him. It certainly wasn’t that he didn’t want you tonight; he wanted you now more than he ever did. But he couldn’t keep himself from playing dumb, intrigued by your unusual desire for him painted so plainly on your pitiful face. He wanted to see how you would try to initiate this.

Of course, he didn’t know everything. You still would need to tell him exactly what you wanted, how differently you wanted him tonight.

You were getting frustrated now. He made no movement against you as you ran your fingers through the curly locks of his hair. His hand was still against your side, barely touching your skin even as your lips began to ravage his neck. Marc had to stifle a chuckle as you made a near-silent noise of discontent. You were gonna have to do better than that.

Impatient, you finally took his chin in your hand, lightly jerking his head over so that he was facing you. You pushed your lips against his, aggressively working them open with your tongue. God, what had gotten into you?

He smiled against you as he turned his body to you, running his hands up and down your arms as you lightly tugged on his hair. A choked moan escaped his lips as you pulled at a particularly sensitive spot on his scalp, and he swallowed hard before pulling his mouth away from yours.

“Why so excited?” You chased his lips as they parted from you. The growing impatience you felt was enough to help you express your need. You snaked one hand down to his chest, lightly squeezing the skin as he pulled his arm loosely up around your neck.

“I need… something.” The words could barely make it out of your mouth. You were breathless, blinded by your own ambition and the fucking sexy man in front of you. As you looked at him, you saw the darkness that you craved so desperately. You also saw the familiar gentleness threatening to creep over him, ruining what you had planned.

“Okay. You’ve gotta be more specific than that.” There was still that hint of the unhinged man. The one who operated on instinct. On anger. You had to hold onto that man. But you could hardly feel your hands.

“I need you, Marc. So bad. Need you right now.”

“Honey, you always have me. You know that.” A smile crept across his face. His eyes were growing softer, pushing anger through your body. You had to force the gentleness away.

“No.”

“Hmm? I’m right here for you. I’ll take good care of you.”

“I don’t want that!” The words spilled out of your mouth in a petulant whine. Marc’s eyes widened, confused and maybe a little offended. He swallowed hard before he chose his next words. You felt yourself blush, ashamed by your impatience and lack of communication.

“What do you want, then?” You took a deep breath, trying to hold your head up so that you were looking down at him. Your attempt at domineering wasn’t working too well, but you were going to get your point across. You were all but soaking through your pants, he was going to give everything you needed from him.

“The other you. The one you try to hide from me, Marc. I want it rough. You’re always so scared of hurting me. I want you feel you hold me down.”

“Oh… wow. Honey—” God, those fucking soft eyes again. You couldn’t have that. You’d made it too far for that.

“Let me finish. I know you’re scared to hurt me. I know you think you’re gonna scare me away. Listen to me. I want you to be rough with me. I don’t want you to hold anything back. I need this. And you need it to. You’ve got to let yourself go for me, please.”

You watched it all flash across his face. Surprise, then worry, then confusion. Then contemplation, then fear, then intrigue. Finally, you saw what was unmistakably a look of decision. Then you watched as that softness melted away, replaced by something else entirely.

And it looked so fucking good.

In one neat motion, Marc swept you up off of the couch, carrying you bridal-style to the bedroom and wasting no time. You breathed a silent sigh of victory, enamored by the way he looked like part of him had been waiting for your request since the moment you met. He didn’t care that his hair had fallen into his face as he moved you effortlessly onto your silk queen-size sheets. It was so easy for him, and you weren’t exactly a small woman. How much of his strength was he really holding back?

“You’re so beautiful.” He purred, pulling himself on top of you. He took in the sight of you, hair sprawled out against the mattress and face already delirious with lust. Your breath hitched at the way he held over you, his Magen David necklace dangling but an inch from your lips. The softness still lingered; he looked at you with such gentleness. He wasn’t letting go all the way.

“C’mon baby. Don’t get all lovey-dovey on me. Take your frustrations out.” You tried to pull him down onto you, but he was steady in his balance. He didn’t budge as you took a fistful of his shirt, hesitant to take your words at face value. Marc didn’t want to break you. “I’ll be okay. I promise. Please, Marc. Let it all out.”

Nothing. He didn’t move. You were beyond impatient now.

You wrapped both arms around his neck, pulling him down with the full force of your weight. He sucked in a breath as his balance was broken by your endeavor, forced to re-situate himself on his forearm as the bed braced your frame once again. He seemed annoyed by your show of force, but he was starting to take your begging for what it was. You wanted him to break you apart. To use you up until there hardly was anything left. What kind of man would he be if he wouldn’t indulge your one deepest desire?

“If you’re sure that this is what you want…” He studied your face as he trailed off, hoping desperately that he wasn’t making a big mistake. There was no sign of hesitence; your mind was made up. You wanted it. “You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Enough talk.” You trailed your hand down his chest. His eyes were darkening again. “If you don’t touch me right now I’m gonna go fucking insane.”

With that, he pressed his weight down into you, his lips melting into yours as he braced the side of your head with one of his calloused hands. You wrapped your arms around his chest, digging your nails into the thin cotton between his shoulder blades. Something in his body language shifted as you tried to grind up against him. Something you’d never felt before washed over him.

He pulled away just far enough for you to tug his shirt up. There was an almost feral look in his eyes and the mere sight of him brought a moan deep from your chest. He smiled at the sound, satisfied at how easy you were to rile up.

“Turn around.” The order was far unlike anything he’d ever said to you. He didn’t coo, didn’t coax you to turn over with gentle massages and pecks to your throat. Marc looked mad with delight as you felt yourself blush at the tone of his voice. You complied without a second thought, heat rushing somewhere else besides the flush across your cheeks.

You sat with your back to him as he leaned off of you, wondering why he chose this position when you felt more than fine under him before. You stared at the headboard as you heard him shuffling behind you, not daring to move from where he’d ordered you to be.

Marc wrapped his arms around your torso, pressing your back against his chest and groping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He sucked a few spots down your neck, much more distant and hungry than the way he normally worshipped your throat. He guided your arms up with his hands, not using much force but domineering nonetheless. In less than a second, your shirt was off of your body, tossed aside to where his own laid in the corner of the room.

The clasp of your bra took even less time to unhook. He was good at that; better than you were sometimes. You stifled a gasp as the cool air hit your chest, but he replaced his hand in time to save a chill from running up your front.

“Be good for me.” It wasn’t until the mattress creaked as he stepped off the bed that you realized why he’d asked you to sit like this. You barely had time to process it before a feverish hand found it’s way to the back of your head. Marc grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling hard enough that you could gather he was leading you to lie down.

When you were barely an inch from making contact with the bed, he wrapped his hands around the tops of your arms, pulling you hard so that your head dropped off the foot of the bed. You sucked in a hiss at the strength of his grasp on your skin, instinctively pulling your own hands up to cup the back of his palms. He looked at you with just a tinge of concern.

“Too much?”

“Oh. God, no.” This was exactly what you meant. Use me. Till there’s nothing left.

Marc was wearing nothing but his boxers now, his erection more than evident through the thin layer of cotton. He ran his hand along your bare chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps as you tried to grasp at him with your upside-down view. Too disoriented to find his skin with any accuracy, you dropped your hands back down to your sides, defeated. He removed one of his hands, using it to pull his length out from the fabric.

Oh, fuck. You didn’t know what you were in for.

He started off slow as he pushed into your mouth. Your neck felt stiff from the awkward angle, and your obstructive view made you uncomfortable. It didn’t matter, though, because his initiative was driving you fucking wild. You couldn’t help yourself from moving one hand to the band of your pants, pushing up under the fabric to rub at your clit.

You didn’t make it there, though. A firm grasp found its way around your wrist, forcing your hand back down to your side. You couldn’t see the look on Marc’s face, but you could hear the scoff that fell from his mouth as he held your arm flat against the sheets.

“Not yet.” He murmured, giving you an unspoken warning. He forced himself deeper into your throat. You tried your hardest to relax your jaw and steady your breath. All you wanted was to see the drunken look on his face. To watch his mouth fall open as he felt your throat stretch around him. That would make the struggle for breath more worthwhile.

You could only hear as a filthy groan spilled from his lips. His grip tightened on your breast, sending a wave of pain through you and causing your breath to hitch against your will. He gasped at the tightening of your throat, his hips stilling for one excruciating moment. You expected him to pull out when a choked sputtering forced its way through your lips, but he only persisted in his previous rhythm.

Use me. You couldn’t make yourself regret the request.

“That pretty mouth.” There was nothing for you to do but lay still as he slowly, deeply fucked your mouth. As much as this wasn’t what you’d had in mind for tonight, your arousal only grew with each groan and low whine from his lips. You took your lack of vision as an opportunity to lose yourself in the noise, finding a rhythm in your breathing to effortlessly match his thrusts.

After a few minutes, Marc pulled away. It surprised you, lulling you from your trance and drawing attention to your other senses. You lifted your head tentatively, massaging your neck to soothe the roughness in your throat. You rolled over enough to face right-side up again, taking in the image of him struggling for breath.

“So fucking good.” He scrunched his eyes shut in an attempt to steady himself. You allowed the blood to rush down from your head as you let him sort himself out. He still seemed like he was holding something back.

He leaned forward to kiss you, kneeing his way onto the bed. Marc was savoring the way his cock had ravaged your mouth, leaving your lips cracked and dry and reminding him of who your body really belonged to right now. You didn’t fight him as he forced your lips apart, licking the taste of himself off of your poor, abused mouth.

You were trying so hard to be patient. Every move he made just made you wetter and more delirious. All you wanted was some friction, some sweet relief from the tension building up inside you. This was where you hoped the roughness would work in your favor.

“So good.” He kept repeating the phrase. More unhinged moans found their way up from his chest. You knew he could be much colder than this, but he cared too much about you to give it his all. At the end of the day, his pleasure was dependent on yours. You still hadn’t convinced him that you truly wanted everything he had to offer, cold or not.

“Please, baby,” You heard the words exit your mouth before they even made it through your brain. Pressing into him harder, you desperately tried to grind your aching cunt against his knee. You just needed friction. You needed force. You needed him.

A guttural moan was his response to your cry. You wanted him so bad. He was finally starting to get the picture. Marc leaned back off of the bed, just enough to pull his boxers off completely. You hated the fact that your bottom half was still fully clothed. Marc was starting to hate that fact just as much, desperate to bury himself inside you.

“Take them off.” He only gestured at your pants with his eyes, but there was no mistaking what he meant. You scrambled to pull the tight denim down from your thighs, cursing your curvy hips though they drove your boyfriend insane. Finally you forced the fabric down past your calves, frustratedly adding the jeans to the pile in the corner. Marc had moved from the foot of the bed, now scrambling through the bedside table for a condom. That thought gave you some relief, because you knew what it meant was going to be happening next.

“Can you lay on your stomach?” He asked as he rolled the latex down over his length. Contrary to his words, there was no asking in his tone. It was casual, borderline cold. The way a bartender might ‘ask’ to see your ID. You turned to lay on your front, craning your neck to watch his movements until he left your line of sight.

You felt the dip of the mattress as he crawled on top of you, snaking two fingers under the hand of your panties and yanking them down. The show of force sent another wave of heat to your practically dripping core. Your eyes squeezed shut and you gasped sharply as his hand came down roughly on your skin.

He grabbed a proper fistful of your ass, pinching the skin with no regard for the pain that shot through you. God, this was exactly what you wanted. A choked groan erupted from your lips, scratching against the inside of your hoarse throat.

“So wet for me.” You heard the sly grin in his voice as he slid his index finger up your core. He stopped just short of your clit, causing you to grind down into the sheets in a silent beg for more. The beating of your heart rang in your ears, juxtaposed by his devious noises of pleasure.

Pulling you up by your thighs, he pushed into you without any further warning. You held onto the sheets for dear life, squeezing the silk in your fists as he bottomed out forcefully. Again, you wished that you could watch his face, see him beading with sweat as expletives fell from his mouth with no forethought. You could see his calloused hand on the mattress beside you, veins pulsing as he too abused the sheets with his fist.

He set an average pace as he made a pattern of his movements, thrusting into deep before pulling out nearly all the way. You needed more from him.

“God! Babe—” You couldn’t get the words out of your mouth. Pressing your forehead into the sheets, you racked your brain for some kind of way to tell him you needed more. His hips sputtered at your little pet name. He moved his hand over the back of yours, interlocking your fingers and effectively holding you still.

“C’mon.” Words were lost in your jumbled brain.

“What’s that?” Marc spoke with clarity despite the ecstasy that his body was feeling. You clenched around him as he squeezed your hand, causing him to falter in his rhythm for just one small moment. There, you finally gathered a single clear thought.

“Faster.” The word took his breath from him. Part of Marc already thought that he was being too rough with you. Hysterical whimpers escaped your lips as he stilled his hips. You pushed backward into him as forcefully as you could, maddened by the absence of his movements.

“You sure?” The hesitation was still there. That god-forsaken softness, that fear that he would shatter you, leave you destroyed. You were sick and tired of that caring little voice. That gentleness that polluted his soul, restrained his movements, and forced him away.

“Yes. Now!” You cursed the strength of his that held you back from grinding up into him. Why couldn’t he use all that force to ruin you? Why couldn’t he get it through his head? “Fucking—please!”

It finally clicked. The lightbulb turned on in his head.

You were desperate for him. For him. Not for pleasure, not for care. For him. All of him. The very deepest parts of him. The ones that hurt, the ones that caused hurt, the ones that didn’t care either way. You needed every part of him. You needed them to ruin you.

Your desperate moan was nearly a scream as he finally resumed his pace. Obliging your request, he set his rhythm faster than before, still just slow enough to use all the force he started with, bottoming out perfectly with each thrust.

You could feel that he’d finally snapped. There was no holding him back as he rammed into you with brute force. The room was filled with the most filthy of sounds, skin slapping skin and unhinged moans and gasps riddling the air. Most everything from your lips came out in broken, indiscernible sobs. Music to your ears, Marc was much better at voicing his thoughts.

“God, baby. So fucking tight. Feels so—fucking—good.” The words sounded like praise, and you guessed that they were in some way, but they spilled from his mouth without any deliberation or restraint. He wasn’t saying those things for your sake. He was feeling them. A prettier sound couldn’t befall your ears, as none existed.

Your orgasm grew in your gut at an unmatchable speed. You always finished when you had sex with Marc, but this was primal, out of both of your controls. The pleasure forced itself through your core, sending electricity up and down your body, paralyzing you. Your moans grew in frequency, emphasized by each of his thrusts. You pulsed around him, uncontrollably chasing the high.

He wasn’t far behind you. Marc’s rhythm began to falter as you tightened and relaxed repeatedly. You reached your peak with a whimpering cry, his name mashed between expletives as pleasure ripped through your spine. Within seconds, he was spilling his load. His hand was tight enough on yours to leave a bruise or two.

Air struggled to reach your lungs as he slowly pulled away. You collapsed forward, not bothering to stop the drool pooling at your mouth. As the stars began to fade from your vision, you became blissfully aware of every nerve in your body.

You were fucking destroyed. Your lips, your throat, your hands, your ass. Your legs were sore from holding you at the awkward angle, forced to brace the weight of Marc’s thrusts. You doubted you would be able to walk or sit comfortably when morning came. Oddly enough, the thought brought you more amusement than turmoil and you swallowed your pride, feeling the raw pain catch in your throat. You hoped the bruises would be visible tomorrow.

“Fuck.” Marc’s voice was all but ravaged. You turned your head to finally take in his own ruined form. His hair was wet with sweat and stuck to his face, curls framing his eyes with a captivating shape. His chest rose and fell with spent exhaustion, rapidly trying to coax him back to his resting heart rate. You watched in delight as the sweat fell from his neck, glistening against his flushed olive-toned skin. You ran a lazy hand over the peck closest to you, relishing the sound of his breath hitching at the contact.

This was what letting go looked like.

When Marc finally opened his eyes, he met your gaze without a second thought. All the gentleness had returned to his face, but you couldn’t be upset by that now. Everything was perfect. You could let him care for you now.

“I love you.” You couldn’t hear the words come from your mouth, but you knew from the look on his face that Marc had received them. He seemed confused, the phrase very much out of place after what he’d just done to you.

“Did I hurt you?” There was worry dripping from his gaze.

“Oh… of course.” A smile grew on your lips. His brow furrowed as you gave a soft, broken laugh. “And I’m fucking glad that you did.”

“You’re insane.” He rolled his eyes, leaning into your touch. The tug of sleep began to threaten your sight.

“That makes two of us.”

“Hey!” He couldn’t argue with you. His own smile revealed his beautiful teeth. Elation took him over, making him almost giddy. “I guess that’s fair.”

“Hmm.”

“I love you, too.”

Not adding my normal tag list but I AM tagging @rmoonstoner <3

Thanks to beta readers @buttercuppatea @moonmoonboys

#moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x you #marc spector imagine #masterlist

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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 5 months

Note

How does Yves react to jealousy? Wether it is him being jealous or his s/o being jealous…. Cause I mean Yves must have his share fair of admirers

tw: cheating mentions

Part 1/2

It depends on how the relationship between the two of you is defined. He knows he has no right to feel jealous if the two of you haven't officially met or you still see him as an acquaintance. Yves won't stop you from dating others, as long as you're not doing that while in a romantic relationship with him. Because that means you would be breaking the boundaries and promises established, there are close to none if you haven't consented to be his partner.

He knows you more than enough to predict if you want him as your husband or a lifelong platonic companion. There are vastly different rules for either role:

If it's the former, polygamy is a no-go. He will lay his needs on the table on the very first day and the first thing on the list is that he is strictly monogamous, asking him to open up the relationship or for a threesome in the future will hurt him badly and is akin to cheating. Obviously, excessive physical contact with anyone else is considered infidelity, though he allows you to receive hugs and kisses from friends and family members that he trusts, and his trust is not easy to earn. No emotional cheating, he does not want you to have such an intimate connection with anyone else. Yves will express his disapproval if he catches you watching porn or gawking at attractive people on the internet, but he can fix that by making it subconsciously 'boring' for you.

He has no problem with you obsessing over fictional characters, Yves knows that they're not real and he sees them as mere toys for you to play with. He has major issues if you try to turn him into one of your fictitious crushes or your obsession has gotten so severe that it affects your life.

Whereas if you wish to remain friends, or something more special but within the realm of familial, Yves would not interfere if you're involved with someone else. Well, he wouldn't 'interfere' to a certain degree; he wouldn't beg you to leave them for him, he wouldn't try to tarnish their reputation in front of you, he wouldn't even cause a scene at your wedding no matter how much he wanted to shoot your spouse dead. Yves would just watch with an unreadable expression, elegantly crossing his legs and resting his palms on his lap. He would still do something behind the scenes if he thinks you're taking him for granted.

Before even dating your current partner, Yves will ensure that he is the person who is closest to you. He will be the one you would call if things go rough and the first one to know of any major changes in your life, good or bad. You would call him for advice on anything, from something as small as changing the wipers on your car to legal advice. Yves will be your safe space and no one can replace him, ever. Not your parents, your siblings, and definitely not your romantic partner.

You're most likely roommates with him, given the economy now. Living in a jarringly rich neighborhood with him. You feel out of place sometimes, because you're probably a university student struggling to get by or a salary worker living paycheck to paycheck. Yves is kind enough to offer you to stay at his place indefinitely with rent that you can afford.

Perhaps you have your own place, or you live with your parents instead. Or frustratingly, you live at your partner's.

Regardless of your sheltering situation, Yves will more likely act like a monster in law. Arriving uninvited, side-eyeing your spouse for not taking good care of you, every compliment about them is backhanded, bringing in meaningful gifts (i.e., flowers, groceries, freshly baked bread, dinner, food that you have been craving) to outshine your partner's goodwill of the day, subtle jabs that greatly bother your significant other but you don't see a problem with.

You would find yourself defending Yves despite his actions degrading your beloved's self-esteem.

The more serious the relationship, the colder he will be towards them. He will not be aggressively antagonistic, but there is an undeniable air around him that feels like spikes down your partner's throat. He is apathetic to temporary flings and one-night stands, though. Unless he knows they can cause grievous harm to you or carry a disease, Yves will work behind the scenes to eradicate them.

Your partner is afraid of him, and rightfully so. Yves warned him once that he would ruin everything they had if you ever got hurt, either due to direct abuse or negligence on their part. The way he delivered it sent a chill down their spine that they will never forget.

Hurting you includes breaking your heart; so your partner can't leave you without Yves skinning them alive. They can't change their behavior to forcefully make you leave them. God have mercy on them if they ever decide to cheat. Yet, they're subjected to constant terror from this man whom you call your friend if they stay. They're caught between a rock and a hard place. If they're just a regular person, they would have gone clinically insane and Yves takes this chance to wean you off them.

Thankfully though, most of them would be scared off by Yves during the dating phase or your standards became so high that you won't bother losing sleep over another person.

There is an interesting outcome if you happen to be with another Yandere. Again, it depends on their personality.

If they're one of those careless fools who keep you captive, kill your loved ones, and only care about their needs, not your happiness; they're dying of "natural causes" as soon as possible.

Those who are Yves wannabes that stalk you and steal your underwear irks him. He appreciates that they share somewhat similar flavors of love for you, but they are pathetic. They think they know you, but they're not even close to scratching the surface. It's laughable as they try to threaten him behind your back, all Yves would do is stare through them. Ten times out of ten, they would back down out of fear, because they could feel the eldritch horrors writhing under his calm facade.

Pathetic, so pathetic. Yves knows a thousand guaranteed ways he could make them disappear by lunch without any lasting consequence, yet his cheap imitation doesn't even know where Yves is at any given time. They can't even tell that Yves is standing next to them at the bus stop, he just puts his hair in a different hairdo and tries a new makeup look. How are they going to protect you if they're this stupid?

He wouldn't off them immediately though, as long as they're relatively harmless and you're happy, he will let them be.

If it's a rich one with non-negligible influential powers, Yves would keep a closer eye on the both of you. They're certainly a lot more dangerous than the first two, but nowhere near as bad as him. It annoys him that your spouse took up a sizable chunk of his library, but it was necessary to find all their weak points and predict the trend of their behavior. They might have an inkling of who Yves is, but he is still an enigma, the information they have on him is either insufficient or false. They're just as blind as everyone else and Yves always have the upper hand.

They generally wouldn't back down threatening him, though. They think they have their finger wrapped around the world just because of their wealth and connections. Yves was young once, he knows how arrogance flows through the blood of the youth. And so did prideful ignorance.

He would let them think they're winning, their immense big boy/big girl powers are sending Yves running with his tail tucked between his legs. Then, when they least expect it, Yves will scare the crap out of them through various methods. Leaving clear-cut evidence that the entirety of their party is actually working for him, having career and life-ending pieces of information, or simply bypassing all his security and meeting them in their so-called surveillance room.

They would find that all their firearms were unloaded and emergency protocols non-functional. Even the ones that no one else but your spouse knows. Yves knows how to fight, he scoffs at their setup for being so primitive. He would even be offended that your spouse couldn't get your information right.

He would dish out the most ego-wrecking insults while gracefully blocking and dodging their attacks, pointing out their incompetence at gathering data.

Yves would let your spouse exhaust themselves to unconsciousness, deriding them for their terrible physique. Then, he would leave, putting everything together back to normal. He left no trace of him ever being there as if your spouse hallucinated the entire encounter. But they definitely didn't.

He successfully sent a message that he wasn't to be underestimated. They have no idea who they're up against and he will be diplomatic only if they stay in their lane, take good care of you, and make you happy.

However, meeting someone exactly like him, though;

It would be ugly at first. Both Yves and his clone will act a bit more erratic than usual, it can go unnoticed by the untrained eye, but between these two giants? It's war. It's their first time meeting each other's match and their first time losing control over the situation.

They would revert to their default answer to anything threatening their ability to puppet reality: elimination. But both of them are too strong to defeat, so they're stuck in this twisted tango.

Yves couldn't find anything on this person. Even if he did, he knew that the information was a decoy to throw him off his trail, are they even a person? Likewise for your (soon-to-be) spouse, who the hell is Yves? Why has their expertise failed them now? How can it be possible that both of them have the same magnitude of verified information on you, yet neither of them knew about each other until you introduced them?

They both can't believe that they misled each other, making your spouse waste precious data space on your close friend that was entirely fabricated, Yves filling up your spouse's section of the library with a random person whom you never even met.

It's a Mexican Standoff between the two. Upon their "first" meeting with you, all they did was glare daggers at each other while they also suspiciously eyed their drink 'prepared' by you. In the end, neither one had their drink go remotely near their lips.

Until they simultaneously had the idea to lovingly send you off somewhere, maybe asking you to help your partner check on the pie that has been baking in the oven downstairs, fetching Yves a fresh cup of tea, leaving the two intelligence-gathering behemoths alone. Yves's lower eyelid would twitch once when he witnessed them placing an appreciative kiss on your forehead.

They don't mince their words. Telling exactly what they thought of each other, they're not kind thoughts. Once that is out of the way, they acknowledge that they're each other's formidable opponents.

They discuss some more and come to the conclusion that they can't take each other down without somehow unintentionally hurting you in the process. Yves's and your partner's tense shoulders would relax a bit when they realize that their ultimate goal is your joy in living. Trying to eradicate each other is not an efficient or smart use of their resources and your happiness is mutually exclusive to the disappearance of either figure.

Hence, the most logically sound decision was made. It was to work together. Every second spent having to interact in your best interest was agony to either side. However, they cannot deny the immense respect they have for each other despite needing to take some sort of sedative prior to meeting, to prevent accidental strangulations out of fury.

You would be in the dark about what goes on out of your sights. However, you would notice how Yves and your partner are stuck to you even more now. Yves's unannounced presence would be much more prevalent and your partner seems to be clingier than before.

Other than that, life would go on. You have two very scary dogs following you around. You are the world's safest person.

[Part 2]

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc yves

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