#I want someone to fight for me like that are you kidding

[lazysoulwriter]

My Man, My Rules - Rafe Cameron

There was a fight. Of course, there was a fight.

Because Rafe Cameron couldn’t go one week without being knee-deep in some rich-kid drama.

And as usual, it all started with some guy looking at him the wrong way. Or maybe breathing too close. Or—God forbid—standing within a five-foot radius of her.

So now, here he was, blood dripping from his nose, shirt torn at the collar, grinning like he just won a championship fight, while his friends stood around awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.

She, on the other hand, was livid.

“Oh, great. Just fucking great,” she started, storming up to him. “Again, Rafe? You really have one brain cell, and you let Topper borrow it for the night, huh?”

“Baby—”

“No.” She raised a finger, effectively shutting him up. “I swear to God, Cameron, if you get into one more fight, I will personally beat your ass myself.”

The entire party went silent.

Kelce let out a low whistle. Topper looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. Even the guy Rafe had just fought—some dude from Chapel Hill who probably just wanted a beer—was staring like he had just witnessed something far more terrifying than Rafe Cameron’s right hook.

Rafe, though? He just looked amused.

“You done?” he asked, licking his busted lip.

She stepped closer, grabbing his face with both hands. “Oh, I am not done. In fact, I’m just getting started. Because you know what, Rafe? You’re mine. My man. And that means I get to decide if you’re allowed to get your dumb ass into fights.”

He blinked. “I’m… not allowed?”

“That’s right,” she snapped. “Not. Allowed. What the fuck do you think this is? Some fight club for trust fund babies? No, sir. We are done with this. From now on, I make the rules. You got a problem with someone? You tell me. You feel like punching someone? You tell me. You wanna get your knuckles bloody? I will find you a punching bag, Rafe Cameron, but it will NOT be at a fucking country club party.”

Rafe looked at her for a long second. Then, he smirked. “Kinda hot when you boss me around like that.”

She groaned, letting go of his face only to smack the back of his head. “Are you hearing me? You are banned from fighting. BANNED.”

“Banned?”

“BANNED.”

“…Like, for life?”

“Oh my fucking God—”

She turned to the crowd, gesturing wildly. “Does ANYONE else want to tell this idiot what I’m saying before I lose my mind?”

Kelce coughed. “I think she means you’re not supposed to fight anymore, bro.”

Rafe scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Kelce—”

She grabbed his chin again, forcing him to look at her. “Do. You. Understand. Me?”

His smirk softened just a little. “Yeah, baby. I understand.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you really?”

“I do.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. “I promise.”

She squinted, trying to decide if she believed him. Finally, she sighed and wiped some blood off his cheek with her sleeve. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I am cute,” he agreed. “And strong. And—”

“Do not make me take it back, Cameron.”

He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

She sighed dramatically but let him pull her away. “Fine. But if I ever catch you fighting again—”

“I know, I know. You’ll beat my ass.”

“Damn right, I will.”

Rafe smirked, tugging her even closer. “My scary little girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “And don’t you forget it.”

[willowsnook]

an experiment pt. 3

lando norris x reporter!reader

a/n: 😈

pt. 1, pt. 2

tags: @sarx164 @wildflowerrsszz, @jaematthews15, @opastries81 @armystay89 @hadesnumber1daughter @dying-inside-but-its-classy @chlmtfilms @freyathehuntress @ashley-k @charlesgirl16 @widow-cevans @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @majapapaya4 @fullmugwolffish

-----------------------------------------------

Y/N: ABSOLUTELY NOT LN: non-refundable, sorry. See you tomorrow

You threw your phone across the room, furious. Hadn’t he done enough? You had your resignation letter typed out, for god’s sake. Begrudgingly, you moved across the room to find your phone, calling your best friend. 

“What’s up?” David asked.

“Lando Norris is coming to Austin to see me,” you said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Wait, why?” David questioned. You could hear his confusion over the phone. 

“I don’t know, he posted that thing on Insta and then texted me that he bought a flight,” you complained. 

David snorted, "He posted that thing and then immediately bought a flight? Sounds like someone's feeling guilty," David said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You groaned, flopping back onto your bed. "I don't care if he feels guilty. I don't want to see him."

"You sure about that?" David asked skeptically. "Because it seems like you two have some unresolved tension."

"The only tension we have is me wanting to strangle him," you muttered.

David laughed. "Right, because that's totally normal behavior between two people who hate each other."

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see you. "What am I supposed to do? He's just going to show up here."

"Well, you could always not be there when he arrives," David suggested. "Or you could hear him out. Maybe he genuinely wants to apologize.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” you complained to him and you heard him laugh in response. 

“I’m always on your side, but let’s just say that Carlos isn’t the only one betting on when you two will get together.”

Instead of answering you hung up, not interested in hearing what he had to say anymore. You groaned before pulling yourself off your bed to begin cleaning. Deep cleaning your apartment always cleared your head and it killed two birds with one stone considering that Lando was coming the next day. 

Lando didn’t answer any of your texts the rest of the night and you started to convince yourself that he wasn’t coming which had you relieved. That was shortlived when you heard someone knocking on your door the next day as you were eating lunch. 

“You’re kidding,” you said, shocked as you opened your door to see him standing there, exhaustion written all over your face.

“I don’t have the energy to fight with you right now,” he mumbled, pushing past you with his small suitcase. 

“I didn’t invite you to come,” you shot back, following him angrily. He set his stuff down near the kitchen island before turning back to you. 

“My guilt was eating me alive so I had to come,” he said plainy.

You rolled your eyes, “I would have saved you the trip if you just would have called.” 

He gave you a pointed look, you both knew you wouldn’t have answered. 

“Can I please take a nap before I read the apology speech I prepared?” He asked and you fought hard against the laugh threatening to escape. It didn’t go unnoticed by Lando who smiled triumphantly. 

“Fine,” you agreed, showing him to the guest room. “Why do you have your suitcase?” 

“I didn’t book a hotel,” he replied nonchalantly. 

“Then where are you going to stay?” He didn’t answer and you furrowed your eyebrows. “No. No way. Do you not remember that I don’t like people staying over?”

“I remember every single thing about that night. In detail,” he shot back and your face flamed red. “We won’t be in the same room so it should be fine by your rules.” 

You stormed out of the guest room and slammed the door. You paced back and forth in your living room, trying to process the fact that Lando Norris was currently napping in your guest room. This was not how you expected your day to go. After about an hour, you heard the door open and Lando emerged, looking slightly more rested but still jet-lagged.

"Feel better?" you asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice.

He nodded, running a hand through his messy hair. "Look, can we talk?"

You crossed your arms, leaning against the wall. "Isn't that why you flew halfway across the world?”

"I had no idea what was happening y/n, you have to believe me,” he said honestly. “I got rid of social media mid season because of the amount of hate I was getting. I’m so sorry this happened.”

“The things that have been said about me Lando…” you trailed off, resolve cracking. “How could I want to keep doing this?” 

Lando's face fell as he saw the pain in your eyes. He took a tentative step towards you, his voice soft. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. What they've been saying, it's not okay. Not at all."

You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "It's not just what they're saying. It's... everything. The threats, the harassment. They found my personal information, Lando. I don't feel safe anymore."

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt evident on his face. “You’re too good for us to lose you. That article you wrote? It was brutal, but it was honest. And that's what makes you great at your job.”

You didn’t say anything but didn’t stop Lando as he stepped even closer to you, his hands coming to cup your face. 

“I need you there,” he admitted. “I need you to keep me on my toes, to keep me accountable. Don’t let them win.”

A tear escaped your eye and Lando brushed it away with his thumb, staring intensely at you. You laid your head against his chest, taking a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you again. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” you replied softly. Pulling away, you tried to collect yourself before turning back to him. “How long are you here for?”

“Couple of days,” he said sheepishly. 

“You know I’m not going to sleep with you again just because you’re here,” you said and he rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll try not to be offended that you thought that was what I wanted,” he replied. 

“Whatever,” you said, heading towards your room. 

“Pain in my ass,” you heard him mutter under his breath as you left. 

The next day was actually enjoyable, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. You and Lando got brunch before walking around the city, you showing him the touristy sights. 

As you walked along the river, you couldn't help but sneak glances at Lando. He seemed more relaxed here, away from the pressures of the F1 world. You had to admit, when he wasn't being an insufferable prat, he was actually quite charming.

"What?" Lando asked, catching you staring.

You quickly looked away. "Nothing. Just surprised you haven't complained about the heat yet."

He chuckled. "I'm not that delicate, you know. Besides, the company makes it bearable."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide your small smile. "Careful, Norris. That almost sounded like a compliment."

"Don't let it go to your head," he teased back. “What are we doing tonight?” 

“Maybe just a movie back at the apartment,” you said. “Thanks to your apology speech, I actually will have to go back to work tomorrow.” 

He grinned at you. “Glad to hear that.”

“Yeah my first piece back will be ‘Why Oscar Piastri is my pick to win the 2025 championship.’”

You squealed as he moved into you, tickling into your sides. 

That night, you and Lando were curled up on opposite ends of your couch, watching a movie. You kept sneaking glances at him, noticing how relaxed he looked in your space. It was a far cry from the tense interactions you usually had at the track.

As the credits rolled, Lando turned to you with a soft smile. "This was nice. I'm glad I came."

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest you weren't quite ready to examine. "It was. Thank you for coming, Lando. I know I gave you a hard time, but... it means a lot that you cared enough to fly out here."

He reached over, gently squeezing your hand. "Of course I care, y/n. Despite our... complicated history, I've always respected you. And I hate that you were hurt because of me, even indirectly."

“I appreciate it,” you whispered. He stared at you a little longer, his eyes flickering down to your lips before he spoke again. 

“Sequel?” He asked and you smiled, nodding your head. 

As the next movie started, he didn’t move back to his spot, instead staying very close to you. As you felt yourself drifting off, you snuggled into his side, much to his amusement. The last thing you remember was him placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, gently rousing you from your slumber. As consciousness slowly crept in, you became aware of a warm presence beside you, a steady heartbeat beneath your ear. Your eyes fluttered open, and the events of the previous night came rushing back.

You were still on the couch, curled up against Lando's side, his arm draped protectively around you. Sometime during the night, he had pulled a blanket over both of you, cocooning you in warmth. The TV screen was black, the movie long since ended.

Panic seized your chest as the full weight of the situation hit you. You had spent the night with Lando. Not just in a physical sense, but in the most intimate way possible - wrapped in each other's arms, vulnerable in sleep. This was exactly what you had always feared, the reason you never let anyone stay over.

Slipping out of his arms, you tried to calm yourself down as you headed back into your room. Your mind was racing as you showered, your feelings for Lando bubbling to the surface even though you pushed them down. 

Lando was sitting up and scrolling through his phone when you came back into the living room. He looked up at you, face instantly scrunching as he saw you. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“Nothing, what time is your flight?” You asked, without any emotion. Lando moved off the couch towards you, grabbing your arm as you turned away from him. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong? Is this because of last night?” He asked and you flinched, giving him the answer he needed. 

“You need to go Lando, thank you for coming, but it’s time for you to go.” 

“Wow,” he said in disbelief. “I’ll go when you can look me in the eye and tell me that all you still feel for me is hatred.” 

“Lando please,” you said, begging. 

“Why are you pushing me away?” He asked, frustration evident in his voice. 

You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. "Because it can't work, Lando. We can't work."

His eyes flashed with hurt and anger. "Why not? Give me one good reason."

"We live in different countries, for starters," you said, your voice strained. "Our careers are completely incompatible. I'm supposed to report on you objectively, and you're supposed to trust that I won't use anything personal against you in my articles."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Lando snapped. "Look at Fernando and Melissa. We could make it work if we wanted to."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself. "It's not just that. We're too different, Lando. We argue constantly. Half the time I want to strangle you."

"And the other half?" he challenged.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said. 

“It does to me,” he shot back. 

“What would happen if we were together Lando?” you asked tirelessly. “If your fans hated me for writing about you, how would they treat me for dating you? I’ve seen how they treated your exes.” 

Lando was quiet for a moment, anger steaming off of him. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, coldly. “I guess I’m not worth it.”

You started to call after him but he was already gone. 

—--------------------------------------------

Lando’s season started off incredibly, winning the first three races all by over 5 seconds minimum. You would think that he would be ecstatic, his boyish energy returning to interviews and PR videos but that was not the case. He was pissed. Anyone that tried to talk to him was met with short answers and anytime McLaren made him do anything, he looked like he was being held at gunpoint. 

He wanted to get over you but he couldn’t. He’d never had anyone challenge him the way you did and he could still feel you sleeping in his arms that night from a couple of months ago. His friends were walking on eggshells around him and Carlos was about to lose it. 

“Please just call her,” Carlos begged, sitting next to Lando at dinner in Monaco. They had a couple weeks in between races and what was supposed to be an enjoyable break, was turning into a nightmare for Carlos due to Lando’s moodiness. 

“She doesn’t want anything to do with me, she made that quite clear,” Lando replied. 

“She’s just scared Lando, she’s literally been checking up on you,” he told his friend. A look of interest flashed across Lando’s face so Carlos kept going. “Oscar said she asked how you were doing just last week.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Lando finally said and Carlos groaned, resting his head into his hands. 

You were miserable. The past few months since pushing Lando away had been some of the hardest of your life. You threw yourself into work, covering IndyCar and trying to ignore the ache in your chest every time you saw news about Lando's incredible start to the F1 season.

But no matter how much you tried to distract yourself, thoughts of him kept creeping in. The way he looked at you that morning on your couch, hurt and confusion in his eyes as you pushed him away. The feeling of falling asleep in his arms, more content than you'd been in years.

You knew you had valid reasons for ending things before they really began. The complications of your careers, the distance, the intensity of F1 fandom. But the longer you went without talking to him, the more those reasons felt like excuses born out of fear.

OP: Hey, you asked about Lando last week. Thought you might want to know he's in a pretty bad mood lately. Carlos is at his wit's end.

You frowned, guilt gnawing at you. Was Lando's mood because of you? No, that was ridiculous. He was probably just stressed about the season, despite his early successes.

Y/N: Thanks for letting me know. I'm sure he'll snap out of it soon.

OP: c’mon y/n, I know you’re just as miserable as he is. 

You cursed your friend David who you knew told Oscar about how depressing your life had become. As you sat in your apartment that night your mind wandered back to that last conversation. 

Why did you push him away? Because you didn’t want to get hurt? 

The truth was, you were terrified. Terrified of letting someone in, of being vulnerable, of potentially getting your heart broken. But as you reflected on the past few months without Lando, you realized you were already heartbroken.

With shaking hands, you picked up your phone and dialed a number you had been avoiding.

"Hello?" Lando's voice was hesitant, guarded.

"Hey," you said softly. "It's me."

There was a long pause. "Y/n? Is everything okay?"

You took a deep breath. "No, actually. Everything's not okay. I... I miss you, Lando. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you away."

Another pause. And then nothing. He hung up.

[opal-owl-flight]

John. John Splatoon. The man, the goofball the sweetest man youll see. Chatty, bubbly, and gives really good team morale.

But things arent all sweet.

I wonder if he shuts himself up when he feels hes being *too* jolly.

His family is kind. Its not their fault. Yknow how people are fucking mean to those who are very excited abt things.

I think he had an experience like that. Tanara was thankfully there when things started getting really bad.

John was made fun of when he first started turfing. He was just sooo excited abt it all. So enthusiastic!! He studied abt the greats, the top players, all that. And the bitchass mean kids thought itd be funny to crush his dreams.

They made fun of him when he rambles abt strategy. They mocked him whenever he tries to be a hero and gets fucking splatted for it (OH GEE, IF HIS TEAMMATES WERE ACTUALLY *HELPING* HIM HE WOULDNT HAVE GOTTEN GOT).

One time I think some bastard jammed his weapon so it was unusuable for a while, and he was unable to turf.

"Good riddance," the team had said. "That beak is finally quiet for once."

Tanara saw this happening and decided to stand up for him.

They saw this boy getting picked on, and didnt hesitate in open firing at the bastards. Didnt care if theyll get banned for a week for firing a weapon off the field.

"|Hey, are you the guy who cornered me in the last match? Color me impressed.|"

Tanara doesnt stand for bullies. Ever. They hate seeing these kinds of people in the leagues. They hate the fact that these nutjobs are so good at the game!!! they want to make the leagues a fun place for everyone. None of this fuckinh bullshit. From a young age theyve already defended others. Wanted to make a better world where everyone can just be who they wanted to be, grow into their best selves.

The orange squid was a big help. With them actually recognizing his talent and running by his side,,,

They made him believe in himself. Fuck what everyone else says.

"|We won because of your strategy,|" they sign. "|If it werent for you, we'd have lost the tournament.|"

And hes given a smile of encouragement. Oh, sweet understanding, sweet recognition.

For a tender year they and John built a strong team and friendship. John became this cheery man bc of them.

They helped him stand up for himself. Helped him in the art of not giving a fuck. Or raining retribution where it is applicable (the duo have sent bullies crying after giving fjem say -- a 20 second rainmaker match)

Whenever someone tries to make fun of him in the later years, or now -- even if Tanara is out of the picture bc theyre getting blended -- he will literally ignore the naysayers. Bc he knows. He knows Tanara believes in him. He knows his team believes in him. He knows many others do, as well.

He knows his own capabilities. He knows what his limits. And hes. God, theres a reason hes second in command. Hes smart about the sport. Hes scary on the field. Dont let the goofy attitude fool you. Hes having fun but you on enemy team wont!

Some people are recently saying that Tanara left their old team bc John was lagging too far behind them, that Ink Typh∞n is the natural next step for them.

Dead wrong dipshits. If anything, those two are eye to eye.

If Tanara wasnt forced to retire, theyf still be fighting by his side.

-----------

Ofc its not all perfect. He still shuts down sometimes. Shuts himself up if he gets scared of offending someone/in general.

If he doesnt get reassurance or proves to himself/his naysayers of his own capabilities, he starts going quiet, smiling less.

Those wounds still hurt, Im afraid....

-----------

And what about after Octo Expansion.

What was going through his mind?

Like....this is your best friend. The one who helped you become the man you are. They were your role model. Theyre so strong, so assured. Confident. Ruthless on the turf. So skilled that nothing can faze them. Believed in you like no one else did.

And youre watching them seem to get worse day by day.

Theyre closing up. Theyre not telling you anything. You reach out but they dismiss you. And their colors only get more desaturated with time. They still believe in you, but its clear that theres something bothering them.

You try to share your joy with them, talking about the things you liked. Like old times. It turns out however, that the character you idolized in the media you consume, is them.

And it explains everything.

An entire secret double life and they didnt tell you.

You were their best friend. They were by your side when you struggled to make it in this city. They gave you assurance when your confidence started to fail.

They were your hero.

Where were you then, when they needed one themself?

They slump into John's arms,,

Theyre only older than him by a year. but they feel so,,

They feel so frail. A shadow of how they used to be. A body broken by war, a mind and heart ravaged by worry and vigilance and the weight of the world on their shoulders.

They tell him that they dont want him to take this load. They tell him he doesnt deserve it.

He says he has no plans of getting into this, not directly. He just wants them to come back to him after duty, or allow him to help in any way he can.

He'll just wait by the door, like he always has.

And hes holding them. He wants to keep them there til everything becomes okay again.

[gattmammon]

As someone who was older (but still not old enough to vote), I need to add: so many of us knew it was bullshit and it made no sense. We protested and protested. Kids my age got the shit beaten out of them over this by riot police and we aren't even American. We all know it all boiled down to keeping the economy going and having an excuse to reinforce the surveillance state.

This is why I get so angry when boomers of gen z or alpha say shit like "what were millennial leftists doing?"

I remember my youth being a time of constant protest. The anti war movement, the Occupy movement, the 2008 crisis and the terrible handling of the Greece situation here in Europe. In the US there was also a big wave of race protests comparable to BLM. The "I can't breathe" slogan you still see floating around comes from the last words of Eric Garner, killed in 2014. There would be also periodic waves of climate protests. We had slut walks for women's rights.

I don't know about the other millennials, but I personally am very tired. I'll keep fighting until the day I drop dead, don't get me wrong. But I am tired.

Eta: if you want to know how people who had some sort of spark of intelligence fucking felt during the afghani and Iraqi war even as if it was happening, this is one of my favourite satire strips from that era, Get Your War On. Comics are in chronological order so start reading from the bottom:

http://www.mnftiu.cc/category/gywo/page/63/

I missed most of the Iraq war due to being a baby, but every time I read about it I start wondering why we aren’t all talking about it all of the time

[doppel-doodles]

A normal post a about Kevin Barnes from Poppy Playtime.

I genuinely feel so bad for Kevin…

Like that was a kid who clearly had a lot of issues from the start, instead of getting the help he needed all that happened was him being marked off as a „problem child“.

And then he was turned into a toy:/

Read more of my full thoughts and a sorta character analysis/ramblings below cut!

Like honestly no wonder he is seething if he wasn’t troubled before he definitely is now-

Obviously he has no trust in anyone, almost every adult he ever knew screwed him over in some way, hell even the kids he shares a body with would go against what he would do.

(Great example: When Doey chases us in his monster form, it's the arms of Matthew and Jack that are trying to keep his mouth from biting us, Kevin's are trying to grab for us.)

He was hurt over and over again, clearly he wasn’t aggressive just because he wanted to be but because this was his only way of making sure he wouldn’t get hurt.

It was how he had a semblance of control, a sense of protection.

But of course the irony is: That coping mechanism brought him more pain, it was what got him killed.

Sure, maybe he could've just "calmed down", but why would he? He was hurt again, he lost everything AGAIN.

All because he listened to their judgement over his own. Kevin could've killed the player and Poppy on sight, clearly his emotions easily overpowered the other two, but he didn't.

Instead he agreed to trust them as well.

He was still willing to do that, surely if he were just a mindless monster he wouldn't be.

And you know what? I believe he blames himself just as much if not more for what happened than he blames us and Poppy and projects it tenfold.

Because maybe, JUST MAYBE-

If he didn't allow himself to trust again, then everyone would still be alive.

But he did...now see what that got him?

In his mind he's proven right.

So what's an emotionally unstable child to do? After being hurt AGAIN?

That's right.

He lashes out at the first thing he sees that had something to do with his pain:

Us.

Is he in the right? Hell nah- bro we didn't mean for that to happen! But do you seriously think this kid is thinking rationally right now??? NO! He is seeing red right now, he is in fight mode! All emotions and must I reiterate that the only way he knows how to express them is through anger and violence?

There is NO reasoning with wrath try as you might! And that hurts because yeah maybe you could've dealt with that if he was still a gradeschooler but he isn't! He is 900 pounds of living dough with a thirst for blood!

It's either our life or his now. And we already know what the outcome of that is.

Honestly I think it's better that we only hear Matthew and Jack apologise for what happened, I do not think Kevin would even if he did feel bad for what he had done.

Because why would someone who has been scorned so many times be vulnerable all of the sudden? When his main character trait is biting at those who bark at him?Why would all that rage suddenly disappear? If anything the stress of dying only causes him to lash out more.

You don't need an apology from him to feel bad for him.

He is hurting anyone with two eyes can see that and for what it's worth, I do believe deep down he knew what he was doing was wrong but it was too late for him to see any other alternatives and even if he didn't and thought he was right for doing what he did it doesn't take away from the fact that he was fucked over by life.

Kevin is not the worst part of Doey, he is just a part of him.

And that part is not just a violent hunk of playdough.

It’s a scared, confused little boy that cared just as much about every toy in safe haven as his other two components did.

Because if he didn’t why would he get so angry about their death?

Anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk-

Also feel free to agree or disagree with my take, those are just my thoughts so let me hear yours, I like discussions:}

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have something for Johnny if you want.

Johnny x shy!reader that has scarlet witch powers? Being Johnny girlfriend and Johnny family adores shy!reader

‘I’m starting to think my family likes you more then me at this point.’ Johnny says one day as he face planted your shared bed.

‘How so Johnny?’ You asked sweetly as you waved your hand as you brought a blanket over your boyfriend’s body with your magic, never failing to notice the soft smile that grew across his face as he lifts himself from the pillow to face you.

‘Are you kidding me? I mean look at you!’ He exclaims as he gestures to all of you shamelessly, making you feel a little exposed by his beautiful brown doe eyes that never seemed to fail in making you melt. ‘You’re sweet, compassionate, adorable to an unfair extent it makes me question how a being as beautiful as you could exist, and did I forget to mention that you’re an absolute badass with your powers?’ Johnny adds with a smirk as he saw how easily affected you were by his words as he counts off everything he found to adore you for on his fingers.

You groan playfully as you smacked Johnny on his bicep, a sheepish smile began to spread across your lips, all the while attempting to fight back the butterflies that were making their presence known within your stomach. It didn’t matter if you were dating Johnny for a few weeks or a few months, for he would always find ways to make you feel as though no time has passed between the two of you.

You at first didn’t want anything to do with the cocky, overly confident, playboy known as Johnny Storm and stayed away from him for a good while…until you couldn’t and it lead to what you considered the best decision you ever made in agreeing to let him take you on a date. However recently Johnny’s sister Sue, her husband Reed and Ben had been taking note of the subtle changes within johnny and knew someone was the reason behind it, which had lead to Johnny dragging you to the Baxter building more times then you can count to meet his family; whom of which had grown a fondness towards you and your positive influence on Johnny himself.

‘Johnny…’ you drew out his name as you buried your head into his shoulder, holding him close as you selfishly leeched off of his warmth, not that you’d ever tell him this but you were certain with how eager he was to keep you in his arms chuckling. He was very much aware and was more than willing to indulge you as he was just as much addicted to your soft, comforting hugs that he swore to high heavens he would die without.

‘I’m not lying! You should hear them half of the time! Where’s y/n? Johnny, go get your better looking partner. Johnny, where is my future sibling in law, you can’t hog them all the time.’ Johnny replied as he made dramatic voices for the likes of Sue, Ben and Reed based on the most recent interactions with them, most of which were asking for you or wondering how you were in general. Johnny didn’t mind, if anything he was downright ecstatic knowing that his family were just as obsessed with you as he was, he adored how you and his sister got along the most; knowing straight away from the moment he found you and his family sharing stories in the kitchen that this was something he wanted to see more often in the future.

Commitment wasn’t his thing, it never was until he met you, and as cliche as that sounded -and he knew just how cliche it came across- but it was true and Johnny wouldn’t want it any other way. He’d even claim you had put some type of spell on him, to which you only hide your smile from his groan inducing joke in regard to your magical abilities. He even remembered the day that he realised that you were the type of person he wanted to bring to his family, something he never gave a deeper insight into before you mind you as he never felt that deep of connection.

So everyday when he wakes up to see you cuddled into his side peacefully and safely, he considered himself the most luckiest man alive, and he didn’t bother to hide it either as he bragged to anyone with ears that someone as wonderful as you had chosen a hotheaded stud muffin -his words- like him.

You smiled as you cuddled further into him, knowing firsthand that he was right, and you were still getting use to the idea that his family adored you from the moment Johnny brought you to your first of many Sunday family diners. You remembered sweating bullets and tugging at your formal attire, but Sue and Reed were more than welcoming and reassuring, meanwhile Ben was full on teasing Johnny about how he was growing into a true man.

However before you could respond you were quick to remember that you were very much late for your day out with Sue. You gasp upon realisation as you push Johnny away from you, who fell back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief that you had just pushed him away. ‘I’m late!’ You cried as you moved away from your baffled boyfriend, who had propped himself to his arms.

‘Late for what?’ Johnny asks as he watched you sort yourself out for an outing he wasn’t aware was taking place.

You smiled softly, not wanting to give too much away of what you and Sue had planned prior. ‘Sue wanted help to find something for Reed for Valentine’s Day, and I agreed to help her.’ You half lied, well you weren’t lying about helping his sister find something for Reed, but what you had left out was the fact that you were also using this time to find something for Johnny yourself. To you he deserved something for being such an amazing partner, and you were thankful that Sue was more than happy to help you in doing so during your most recent late night conversations with the blonde woman.

‘I just want to find something for him that he’ll love,’ you told Sue as you allowed your magic to flourish between your fingertips, a nervous habit you had developed the moment you realised that you were capable of feet’s no other magic user has ever accomplished before, it was a comfort to you and brought your mind back to what was most important to you and what was most important to you was Johnny smiling.

She smiles, glad to know that her brother was blessed with someone like you, reached out to grab your hand in hers as she squeezed it in reassurance. ‘Whatever you get him, I’m certain Johnny will treasure forever.’

‘Really? You really think so?’ You asked her, still a little nervous despite having been with Johnny for a while, but that man had a way to make you feel as though you were falling for him all over again and you wanted to hate him for it, and yet you found yourself becoming shy and flustered whenever the man even threw his arm over your shoulder. If this was what love was like then you hoped to stay in this never ending state of adoration and mutual understanding for as long as you could.

‘I know so.’ Sue replied, her eyes had a knowing look to them. ‘Johnny would take anything you give him becuase you were the one that give it to him, that thought that he would like it and all he’ll care about is that you had him on the mind and to show that you care about him.’ She finished, squeezing your hand again when she saw sparks of your magic come to life at your fingertips, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand. You smiled at her. ‘Then I can’t wait for tomorrow.’ You tell her, beaming.

Johnny smiled from his place on the bed, again happy to see you and his sister bond and become close to one another, it was a simple thing that he didn’t know he needed but then again that was the magical thing about you. You made him want simple and small things that he would’ve taken for granted, or not even considered in the first place, and for that he couldn’t help but find himself wanting moments like this in your future together.

However before Johnny could open his mouth to push you for more details on your outing with his sister, the door opened to reveal Sue stood on the other side, obviously having been waiting for you but not showing an ounce of annoyance in the slightest.

‘I’m here to steal your partner.’ Sue says to her brother as she grasps your arm, pulling you to her side.

‘Not the first time my beloved is being stolen from me by you, Reed or Ben.’ Johnny scoffs playfully as he watched you and Sue link arms, already acting like you were in laws for a long time with how relaxed and comfortable you were with one another.

‘Oh you can have them back as soon as we’re finished shopping.’ Sue retorted.

‘So like ten hours from now?’ Johnny sarcastically replies with and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sibling squabble, making him look at you with a warm smile. ‘Don’t I get a goodbye kiss at least from my most beloved?’ Before you could give him his kiss, Sue drags you out of the room with her and out the door, though not before shouting over her shoulder followed by your laughter. ‘You’ve had enough time today to trade kisses, now you have to wait.’

Johnny only groans dramatically as he flops back onto his bed, impatiently waiting for you to come back not even seconds after you left his room, he really was in love like the sappy bastard Ben teased him in being.

[erinwantstowrite]

A while ago you liked a comment of mine on TikTok where I said that there should be no second Batman bc having Bruce retire/die means his fight should be over and he should be able to rest properly, (idk if that’s exactly what I said but I think it’s in the ball park) so can I ask what you think about a legacy Batman? And who would you have be the second Batman? Also your art is amazing and I love leap of faith, hope you have a great day

i remember that comment!!!!

i honestly believe that having a "legacy" for every single hero is just,,, boring. the reason this happens is because they are never going to NOT have Batman. how else would they make money??? so they just keep giving us reasons why his mantle has to be there. just like the Joker HAS to always come back, why new characters are always tied in to existing characters somehow, etc.

in a perfect world, we'd get new characters sometimes and overarching storylines that aren't regressed the second we make any headway on character development. we'd have new villains by now that make a name for themselves outside of the original villains, we'd see an impact on our settings and characters, all that jazz. and in this perfect world, we wouldn't have so many legacy mantles

and i mean, like, one of the supers taking up the Superman name? that's cool. they're a family, thematically it works. even with the Flash family, I accept how they do it (though I hardly keep up with their comics)

but Batman?????

STOPPPPP

Every other Batfam member has an arc where they branch away from Bruce and the name, save for Tim and Cass, I think. Tim is... a gray area. I only put him here because he's back to being Robin (because DC can't let go of that money maker!). It's an insult to their characters to put them into the Batman mantle, but in universe, this keeps happening because "Gotham needs Batman."

No! No they do not! They do not need Batman specifically. They need his ideals! His kids do not need to be Batman to have Batman still be around after he's put up the cape or died, because they are that future without the cape! There is no magic tied in to that stupid cowl, they just see it that way because Batman is this larger than life figure. Of course they think their dad is impervious to the world, that the cape that protected them is special, that they need Batman. But that is NOT the case.

Just like with any family, life will move on. The legacy continues through the lessons that the kids learned. In many ways, they are better than Batman because they learned from his mistakes, too. Just like every kid does with their parent.

But they don't want to be Batman. And it's kind of insane to keep putting them in someone else's suit, basically someone else's identity. Dick is a great Batman, but his biggest fear is losing himself in Bruce's shadow. What happened to Jason was because of Batman's failure, and it isn't healthy to put him in the Batman suit. Tim should be allowed to move on from Robin and finally get his own mantle because he has always used someone else's. (Yes I am purposefully forgetting that Drake existed do not remind me.) That and the existence of Gun Batman. Do NOT put him in that suit!!!!!!! Damian is branching out of vigilante life altogether, which is so so so good for him. Him becoming Batman after struggling so much with his identity, purpose, and blood ties, is a spit in the face to character development. I think Duke should get to choose his own name for a hero mantle (because Bruce thought of Signal), and thematically I don't think he fits into the Batman role. He is a shining light the way Robin was, but this time more literal because of his powers. Batman is very human, that's what makes his character. Duke deserves more than being Batman.

The best person for that job is Cass.

Not only does she understand the No Kill Rule in the way that Bruce understands it, she is also his equal or superior in every way. Whether it's her physical abilities, or her intelligence, or her morals, Cass fits the bill. She's one of the strongest members of the Batfam and I think she would be able to take on the burden without crumbling under the pressure or feeling scared of that responsibility. She's fit in to the Batman role before, has mirrored him in many ways, and is also her own character (and man I just really love Cass). She strikes the same amount of fear into people that Batman does, a master of the shadows, the dark, and she has a hope that I think Gotham could need.

But she doesn't need to be Batman to do it. She just has to fill in that role. Sure, she could pick up the name Batman, it won't kill me. But so long as she fills in the space that Bruce left behind, becoming the next leader and mentor, she could be anyone.

I think it's more powerful that way to show that the time has passed. That Bruce's time as a vigilante made an impact. Gotham has changed. His kids have grown up. And the Dark Knight is still there, at home.

[watchtowerlibrary]

Damn it, hit me with that rivals to lovers trope 🫠

One: He likes seeing you like this--angry. Like, really, really angry. Mmmh, interesting. Would you look at that - add a naked Reader to the mix and he's a goner.

Two: Damn, he really is bad at keeping his cool when talking to someone pretty, huh? Oh my God, he knows her favourite drink flavour 😏 "I really like you," Jake murmurs against your mouth. And here I thought my cold heart couldn't turn soft.

Three: He sighs contentedly, a grin biting his lips when your tired laughter rings out in his bedroom. Look at this boy turning soft. Jake is smiling tiredly as he blinks at his ceiling fan, his arm firmly holding your naked body against his. He's tired--those Stellas are catching up with him--but he's happy. He's like really, really happy.

Four: Oh wow, he wants to meet her dad (who's a damn legend, let's be real here) after mere seconds of having sex. Looks like someone is getting them feelings. Now he wants to touch you in any and every capacity, all the time, everywhere. Look at this touchy-feely man. How long has he been in love with you? Damn you, Ice. 🥹

Five: "Bob--you know?" Rooster asks incredulously. Look at that stealth pilot. You're giggling a little bit, especially when you two fumble as soon as you start to turn. He laughs, too, but kisses you gently. And then the two of you dance in the moonlight very near the beach with all your friends just inside. Jake, you big softie.

Six: Or maybe it's just because your date is getting ready alongside you. "What time should I pick you up?" Jake says as you stand beside him. Why do I find this parallel prep so cute? I'm getting married couple vibes.

Seven: Why is it so adorable for a babbling Jake to ask being the little spoon? You lean into his palm, smiling. “I really love you,” Jake sighs, shaking his head. Damn, those two are just so soft. Rooster makes so much noise 😅 Unlike Bob, the stealth pilot, definitely. Seems like his fight or flight instinct offered a third option: frozen.

Eight: Huh, so, Rooster knows which type of birth control makes Reader unwell 🤔 And Reader is the weird one in that scenario 😅

Nine: Look at that cute wittle kid 🥹

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 — 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀) 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐁𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎��𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐋𝐘 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓. 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝟏𝟖+. 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆. 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆. 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄: 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐗, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓, 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘, 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃, 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇, 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐅.

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲--𝐓𝐨𝐦 "𝐈𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐲'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫--𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐨𝐩 𝐆𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰: 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬��� 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 "𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧" 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐧-𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝. 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐢𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 (𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬), 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧-𝐥𝐢��𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐁 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐎𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫!

𝟏: 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 —𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐲𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲.

𝟐: 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 —𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐘𝐨𝐮. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧-𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧-𝐁.

𝟑: 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 —𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧-𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

𝟒: 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 —𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞. 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝.

𝟓: 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 —𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬. 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝟔: 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅𝐅 —𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲).

𝟕: 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊, 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑! —𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐲. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐂𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐢 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐦.

𝟖: 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊: 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 —𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞.

𝟗: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐃 —𝐀 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝.

[parker-artio]

I had the funniest idea….

SO imagine that Jason accidentally takes in a kid, he doesn’t want to do the fostering thing because he knows how emotionally hurting that can be for a kid, so he tries to find a term for it and settles on ‘just taking care of the kid till they’re 18.’

Stupid he knows.

But only a few weeks in and he’s already arguing with this kid over small things, they won’t eat dinner he cooked, they aren’t doing their homework, they’re fighting kids in school, and Jason doesn’t know what to do. So what does he do? HE GOES TO BRUCE.

Bruce is surprised, because considering how much Jason would willingly tell him, he might not even know that Jason’s watching this kid. So when he says ‘How do you manage a kid?’ He thinks Jason got a girl pregnant. But he can’t lecture Jason on this, he’s an adult now, and doesn’t see Bruce as a dad anymore. So he just tries to lightly tell Jason that he has no fucking clue.

Bruce: Well uh, I only got you kids when you were older, plus, I mean, it’s not that bad, yeah? Just some perspective things, probably think about that, and what’s going through their mind and how they’re reacting to it.

Jason who thinks Bruce knows (a chronic ‘I thought I told you?’ Person) and is confused why he said he got all of them older, considering that his kid is like 12-14 ish: Right, perspective.

But the thing is, the advice actually helps.

Jason actually starts looking at their perspective and it helps. A lot. The kid slowly becomes more open, and Jason starts to feel more parental. Then before he knows it he’s going to Bruce asking for advice on how to start the adoption process.

Once again- Bruce thinks he got a girl knocked up- quickly realizes he very much in fact did not, and was taking care of a kid. Like he does.

Bruce, as the realization sets in: Well, I’d ask them what they think about being adopted first…

Jason watching as Bruce keeps blinking and looking away: B are you about to cry?

Bruce tearing up: No, no, I’m not. Got dust in my eyes…



Obviously Jason takes his advice, especially since the first time it helped so much. The kid is hesitant, but after a bit is slowly getting okay with the idea.

But when Jason gets a last minute tip about Black mask going to Cuba for something, he needs someone to watch the kid. And who does he know that loves kids, and would babysit any kid even if they’ve never met the kid? That’s right, Bruce!

So he tells the kid everything they need to know and sends Bruce a single text message saying ‘You’re babysitting.’

Bruce is scared. What does he mean by that?

Then he shows up with this preteen-young teen kid, who’s short and looks like Jason after he was first taken in by Bruce and lived with him for a while (aka a street kid who’s actually starting to eat right and looks healthier) and everything clicks into place. This kid is older.

But Bruce wants to cry- because this is his potential first grandchild, and that’s amazing.

Jason to the kid: It’ll only be three days at most, okay?

The kid: okay.

Bruce a few feet away trying not to sob: Hi- I’m Bruce, you are?

Jason disgusted at Bruce’s such obvious emotions- no one shows their emotions in their face in this family: Chill out, you’re scaring them.

Bonus points if the kids a girl. Jason is a girl dad at heart. Tell me I’m wrong.

[goldfades]

i love crash out series and thanks for your service queen 😭 i had an idea for like a fight and then make up between them with smut? a lil longer too if you don’t mind

hi baby! i hope you enjoy this!!

warnings: NSFW under the cut, minors pls dni! i feel like i forgot how to write smut so PLEASE give me some feedback

The door barely clicks shut before Luka exhales, sharp and frustrated. You don’t look at him.

You haven’t looked at him since dinner.

Your coat is already halfway off when he reaches for you, fingers just grazing your wrist before you pull away, stepping into the kitchen like he’s not even there. Like the whole ride home hadn’t been thick with tension, the air between you stretched thin, fraying at the edges.

Luka leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with narrowed eyes. You don’t acknowledge him.

He hates it.

Hates the way you move around the kitchen like he’s invisible. Hates the way your lips are pressed into a tight, unyielding line. Hates the silence, because god, anything is better than this. You could be yelling, cussing him out, shoving at his chest with all the fight you have in you—and he’d take it. He’d welcome it.

But this?

This cold, calculated ignoring? He feels like he’s losing his mind.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” he asks, voice clipped.

Nothing.

Luka clenches his jaw. Pushes off the counter. Takes one step closer.

“Seriously? You’re just gonna act like I’m not here?”

Silence.

You open the fridge, grab a bottle of water, twist the cap with a little more force than necessary.

He watches. Seething. His patience, already thin, finally snaps.

“Oh, my fucking god.” Luka drags a hand down his face. “Can you just say whatever you need to say? Yell at me. Call me an asshole. Something.”

You take a slow sip of water. His eye twitches.

“You’re such a brat,” he mutters under his breath.

That does it.

Your head snaps up, eyes blazing, shoulders tight with irritation. “Excuse me?”

Luka smirks. Oh, now you want to talk.

He shrugs, leaning against the counter again, arms lazily folding across his chest. “I said,” he drawls, tilting his head, “you’re a brat.”

Your nostrils flare. He bites back a grin. He knows he shouldn’t be pushing you, shouldn’t be stoking the fire—but at least now you’re giving him something.

You slam the bottle onto the counter, stepping closer. He can see the tension in your jaw, the way your fingers curl into fists at your sides.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“There she is.” Luka grins, infuriating and smug, but there’s something else beneath it—something restless. Something hungry. His voice dips lower. “I was starting to miss you.”

Your pulse jumps. But you’re still pissed. Still fuming.

And Luka?

Luka loves you like this—fierce, unrelenting, all fire and defiance. But he loves breaking you down even more.

You glare up at him, chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. Luka is standing so close now that you can feel the heat of him, the way his broad frame crowds you in, making the kitchen suddenly feel smaller.

His smirk is lazy, but his eyes—his eyes are dark. Heated. He’s enjoying this.

And that pisses you off even more.

“You are such an asshole,” you hiss, pushing at his chest.

He doesn’t budge.

“Am I?” His voice is all silk and steel, infuriatingly calm, like he’s barely restraining a laugh. “For what? Wanting you to actually talk to me instead of acting like a little kid?”

Your jaw tightens.

“You think I’m acting like a kid?”

“I think you’re acting like someone who wants me to lose my patience.” He steps even closer, and you take an automatic step back—until your spine meets the edge of the counter. Luka leans in, bracing a hand beside you. “And you know what, baby?” His voice drops, low and thick. “It’s working.”

Heat pools low in your stomach.

You hate how easily he gets to you.

How his presence, his voice, his everything makes you feel like you’re standing too close to the edge of a cliff, toes curling against the drop. But you’re still mad. And you’re not about to let him just bulldoze over that.

“You embarrassed me,” you say, voice tight.

Luka’s brows knit together. “How?”

You scoff, shoving at him again—harder this time. He lets you. “At dinner. The way you were talking over me, making fun of me in front of everybody—”

“I wasn’t making fun of you.” His voice is firmer now, the teasing edge fading.

“Yes, you were.” Your fists tighten. “You always do this. You always think it’s so funny to push my buttons, and I know you don’t mean anything by it, but sometimes—sometimes it’s not funny.”

Luka exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair. He watches you for a long moment, his gaze flickering over your face. Then, finally—

“Shit,” he mutters. “I didn’t—fuck, baby, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

Your anger is still there, but it softens, just a little, at the raw sincerity in his voice. You cross your arms, looking away. “You’re an idiot.”

Luka huffs out a laugh, his hands settling at your waist. “I know.” His thumbs stroke slow, deliberate circles against your hips. “But I’m your idiot.”

You bite your lip. “That’s not a good excuse.”

He dips his head, lips brushing your ear. “No?” His voice is low, dangerously smooth. “Then let me make it up to you.”

Your breath catches. Luka presses closer, his body warm and solid against yours. His nose drags along your jaw, his lips just barely skimming your skin.

Your fingers twitch at your sides.

He notices, then smirks.

“C’mon, baby.” His voice is pure sin, rough and coaxing. His hands slip lower, gripping your thighs. “Let me fix it.”

You shouldn’t give in this easily. You should stay mad. But Luka—your Luka, with his infuriating smirk and teasing touch—knows exactly how to unravel you.

And right now?

You’re about to let him.

The tension between you crackles like static in the air, thick enough to choke on. Luka's hands are still heavy on your hips, thumbs dragging slow, deliberate circles against the fabric of your dress. He’s waiting—for you to push him away, for you to tell him off, for you to fight back.

But you don’t. Instead, you stare up at him, lips parted, breath coming just a little too fast. He notices. Of course, he does.

“Say the word, baby,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “And I’ll stop.”

You don’t say it.

His smirk is slow and satisfied. “That’s what I thought.”

You should still be mad. You should still be fuming, pushing him away, making him work harder for it. But Luka knows you too well. Knows the way your pulse is racing, the way your fingers twitch at your sides like they want to grab him but your pride won’t let you. Knows exactly how to break you down.

“Luka,” you breathe, and that’s all it takes.

He moves.

His hands slide down, gripping your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter like you weigh nothing. You gasp, fingers tangling in his hair as he steps between your legs, pressing his body against yours, trapping you in.

“You gonna let me fix it?” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your throat, sucking just hard enough to make you shiver.

You hate him for this. Hate how easily he gets under your skin, how he turns every fight into something else entirely, something heated and breathless and dangerous.

And you hate even more that you love it.

“You’re such a menace,” you whisper, nails scraping against his scalp.

He grins against your skin. “You love me.”

And god help you, you do.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, yanking his head back just enough to make him groan. His hands squeeze your thighs in response, his control slipping, his breath warm against your lips.

“I’m still mad at you,” you tell him, but your voice is shaky, betraying you.

Luka smirks, pressing his forehead against yours. “No, you’re not.”

You glare at him, opening your mouth to argue, but he doesn’t give you the chance. Instead, his lips crash against yours, and everything else melts away.

The fight, the tension, the anger—it all disappears the moment his mouth moves against yours, the kiss hot and needy and just a little desperate. His hands are everywhere—sliding up your thighs, gripping your waist, pulling you closer.

Your legs wrap around his hips, anchoring him to you, and Luka groans, deep and low in his throat. He breaks the kiss just long enough to drag his mouth along your jaw, his breath ragged.

“I hate when you ignore me,” he mutters against your skin. “Drives me fucking insane.”

You smile, tilting your head to give him better access. “I know.”

His teeth scrape against your pulse. “Brat.”

You tug at his hair, making him growl. “Cry about it.”

His laugh is dark and breathless, and before you can say another word, he’s lifting you off the counter, carrying you towards the bedroom with purpose.

“You wanna play games, baby?” he murmurs, voice thick with something dangerous. “Let’s play.”

And just like that, the fight is forgotten. Because Luka may hate when you ignore him, but he knows just how to make you beg for his attention.

Luka's steps are measured, each one echoing through the hallway as he carries you effortlessly in his arms, the sheer power of his body on display. The air around you crackles with an electric current, every brush of his fabric against yours sending jolts of desire straight to your core.

The bedroom door swings open with a soft thud behind him. Luka sets you down gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, burning with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. He leans down, his hands planted firmly on either side of your head, caging you in with the strength of his arms.

“You sure you can handle this?” His voice is a low drawl, teasing, yet laced with an edge of seriousness. He knows your games, the push and pull of your resistance, but tonight, the unspoken challenge hangs heavy between you.

Without waiting for your response, Luka’s lips find yours again, more forceful this time. His tongue slides against your lips, demanding access, which you willingly grant. The taste of him is intoxicating, a mix of mint and something uniquely Luka that makes your head spin.

His hands roam downward, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up slowly, tantalizingly, until it bunches around your waist. Cool air hits your skin, causing you to gasp into his mouth, a sound that seems to drive him even further. His fingers trace up your thighs, light yet firm, mapping the skin he’s claimed so many times yet still can't get enough of.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak. His gaze is fixated on your exposed skin, as if memorizing the sight before him. His fingers hook around the edge of your underwear, teasingly pulling them down as he locks eyes with you, his intentions clear as his lips curve into a smirk.

The fabric slides off with ease, leaving you bare before him. Luka’s breath hitches slightly as he takes in the sight, the raw desire in his eyes enough to make your heart race. He dips his head, pressing kisses along your inner thigh, inching closer to where you want him most—but deliberately avoiding it, driving you crazy.

You squirm beneath him, trying to guide him where you need him, but he gently pins your hips down with his strong hands. “Patience, baby,” he chides lightly, his breath hot against your skin. His refusal to satisfy your needs makes every touch feel like both a punishment and a promise.

Finally, he relents. His mouth moves directly on your pussy, his tongue masterfully invoking sensations that leaves you writhing beneath him. Each lap sends waves of pleasure crashing through you, intensified by the sheer anticipation he's built. His name falls from your lips in a helpless mantra, echoing around the room, filling it with the sound of your pleasure.

Luka's hands grip your hips tighter, a silent command to stay still under his ministrations. But it's a tall order when every flick and swirl of his tongue draws whimpers from your throat. Just when you think you can’t take anymore, his fingers join the play, sinking into you with a precision that sends another jolt of pleasure coursing through your veins.

The room is thick with the heat of your bodies, every breath, every moan mingling in the charged air. Luka’s movements grow more urgent, more focused on your clit, as he senses your climax building. His name becomes a litany, a plea, a declaration as you teeter on the edge.

With a few more skilled movements, you cum all over his tongue, waves of pleasure rolling over you in a relentless tide. Luka slows his pace, riding it out with you, his own heavy breaths a testament to his satisfaction at your unraveling.

As you float back down, he crawls up your body, his weight a welcome pressure. His lips find yours again, kissing you deeply, passionately, sharing the taste of you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your lips, a smile in his voice, his eyes crinkling with genuine affection.

Luka's gaze holds yours, intense and fiery, as he shifts his position. You can feel the solid weight of his bulge pressing against your thigh, a promise of what's to come. He trails one hand down the center of your body, a teasing path that makes every nerve stand on alert.

When he reaches the junction of your thighs, he pauses, his fingers playing at the entrance that beckons him. His other hand braces beside your head, his thumb caressing your cheek softly, a stark contrast to the hunger in his eyes.

Without waiting any longer, he aligns his cock at your sopping pussy. With a slow, firm push, he slides home, filling you completely in one smooth motion. You gasp at the sensation, a perfect stretch, a perfect fit, as Luka pauses for a moment, allowing you both to savor the moment and adjust.

Then, the restraint vanishes. Luka sets a pace that is both relentless and passionate. His hips snap forward with precision, each thrust driving him deeper, eliciting moans from deep within you. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, a rhythmic beat that drives the intensity of the moment.

Luka’s face is a mask of concentration and raw pleasure as he watches the effects of his movements reflected in your expressions. His name spills from your lips in a crescendo of sound, each utterance a spur to his motions. His hands roam over your body, one settling to anchor your hip, the other reaching up to pull your leg around his waist, changing the angle of his thrusts to delve even deeper.

"You feel so fucking good," he groans, his voice rough with desire. His movements become even more targeted, designed to hit all the right spots within you. The change sends sparks of pleasure zipping through your veins, your back arching off the bed as you meet him thrust for thrust.

The intensity builds, a coiling heat in your belly that signals the rushing approach of your second climax. Luka senses it too, and his motions become even more focused, desperate, as if he’s chasing his own release that's tethered to yours.

"Cum for me, baby," he urges, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck, his breath scalding against your skin. His words, spoken in that commanding tone, pierce the fog of pleasure and tip you over the edge. With a final, deep thrust, he pushes you both past the brink.

Your climax shatters through you, waves of intense pleasure washing over you in relentless surges. Luka follows closely behind, his own release claimed in the tight clasp of your body, his name a prayer on his lips.

The room is warm, hazy in the golden light spilling through the curtains. Your skin hums, still tingling from him, from everything.

Luka collapses beside you with a heavy, satisfied groan, one arm flung over his face, the other instinctively reaching for you. His fingers find your waist, tracing absentminded circles against your damp skin. He’s still catching his breath, chest rising and falling, a lazy grin stretching across his lips.

“Jesus,” he mutters, voice hoarse, wrecked. “You’re actually tryna kill me.”

You laugh, soft and breathless, turning to face him. His cheeks are flushed, hair an absolute mess, sweat-damp curls sticking to his forehead.

“You deserved it,” you murmur, dragging a teasing finger down his chest. “Brat.”

Luka cracks an eye open, fake-offended. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” You smirk, shifting closer, your lips grazing his jaw. “You love pushing my buttons.”

He sighs dramatically, rolling onto his side to look at you properly. “I don’t mean to,” he says, quieter now. His big hand finds your cheek, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. “I just love messing with you.”

You arch a brow.

“Okay—” he amends quickly, lips twitching “—sometimes I go too far.”

You hum in agreement, stretching your legs against his under the sheets. “Yeah, you do.”

Luka groans, grinning as he buries his face against your shoulder. “Shit, you’re really making me work for this apology, huh?”

You bite back a smile. “You should suffer a little.”

“I’m literally dying.”

You laugh, carding your fingers through his messy curls. “You’ll live.”

Luka leans into your touch, all soft now, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone, your shoulder. “I really am sorry,” he murmurs between kisses. “I never want to embarrass you, baby. Ever.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your stomach flip.

You nudge your nose against his, letting the last remnants of your irritation melt away. “I know.”

He exhales, relieved, and then—because he’s Luka—grins. “Sooo... am I officially forgiven? Or do I need to go another round to prove how sorry I am?”

You roll your eyes, smacking his arm. “Go to sleep.”

Luka laughs, grabs you, and pulls you against his chest with a satisfied sigh. “Mmm. Fine. But only ‘cause you wore me out.”

You tangle your legs with his, feeling warm, sated, and impossibly content. Luka’s arms tighten around you, and for a long moment, neither of you speak—just breathing in sync, just existing together.

Then—

“Still think you’re a brat, though,” Luka mumbles sleepily against your hair.

You pinch his side.

He yelps.

Then, he laughs.

[valiwrites]

reincarnation ✧.* formula 1

: ̗̀➛ pairing: formula 1 x senna!reincarnation!male!oc (nico santos) : ̗̀➛ warnings: strong language, people shipping drivers but nothing serious, bromance, hate comments : ̗̀➛ author’s note: i wrote this before and got a lot of hate for it. if it’s not your thing, just scroll past—no need to spread negativity. i didn’t write this just to read mean comments.

: ̗̀➛ smau

danielricciardo ✔︎

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, nicosantos and 1.3m others

danielricciardo the funniest part was... i had to held him back so he didn't murder anyone yesterday

view all 345k comments

user1 reason 727390 why daniel and nico are my fav duo

user2 showed my dad a picture of nico and he said he hasn't seen anything of senna in years i had to explain to him that this is not senna 😭

user3 my mom said that too!! but nico hates being called senna

charles_leclerc i haven't seen nico that mad ever

user4 why is the first picture so wholesome tho omg

user5 because danny is wholesome

user6 nico was ready to commit a whole crime and daniel said ✨no✨

maxverstappen1 i was lowkey scared for my life not gonna lie

user7 danny out here being the emotional support human for a guy who could probably fight god

user8 nah but the way nico looks at daniel in the vid… y’all seeing this or am i delulu

user3 the way his eyes soften when he looks at daniel is so cute

user5 y'all are so delusional he didn't even look at daniel 😭

lando nico was pacing like a dad whose kid just crashed his car 💀

user9 why does every chaotic duo have one guy who keeps the other from getting arrested

user10 danny being the only thing between nico and a felony is so on brand

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by danielricciardo, mickschumacher, lando and 3.2m others

nicosantos mood after yesterday

view all 743k comments

user1 help nico really wanted to throw hands 😭😭

nicosantos you know it

user2 nico has a cat???

user3 it's max's cat lmaoo

user4 he kinda fine

user5 i have been saying that but no one listens to me

user6 the way he just crouched by daniel’s car like it’s some kind of secret mission 💀

user7 lowkey nico should’ve been in the movie ‘mad man on the edge'

user8 no way you can look at them and not see the chemistry. it's so obvious

user9 nah, the way nico looks at daniel in that video is giving ‘you’re mine’ vibes

user10 no wtf don't say that...

user11 why do i feel like nico is totally in love with daniel and he just doesn’t know it yet?

user12 why is everyone suddently shipping them hello

user13 bc daniel hugged nico at the press conference 😭

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by lando, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 2.5m others

nicosantos ok, so we look alike. i get it. but let’s be real, i’m not him. just because we share a lot similarities doesn’t mean we’re the same person. i’ve been getting a lot of hate in my DMs, and honestly, it’s getting old. so, can we all just chill and let me live my own life? respect is all i’m asking for

view all 954k comments

user1 literally, it’s just a resemblance, relax people

user2 the hate is so uncalled for. nico deserves respect not this mess

user3 people acting like he’s actually senna’s clone, chill out

user4 he's trying really hard to be 🙄

user5 the fact that nico has to explain this is crazy. let him breathe

user6 you can’t just deny the resemblance though, it’s a little weird you’re acting like it’s nothing

nicosantos i’m not denying it, but i’m also not claiming to be someone i’m not. it’s not that complicated

user7 he’s just salty because people keep bringing up senna. get over it

user8 he doesn’t owe anyone an apology for looking like someone. leave him alone

niconews ✔︎

liked by 47k users

niconews eyes never lie... this was nico just a day after all the hate he’s been facing recently. in a raw moment during an interview, when asked, "you seem pretty pissed at the situation," he didn’t hold back. nico responded, "well, people stick their noses in everyone’s business without thinking about feelings. i didn’t ask to be born the way i am, i’m just trying to live my life." his voice cracked, and despite trying to hold it together, tears started to form. it was a moment that showed just how much this constant pressure has been affecting him. in a world where we all expect people to be perfect or fit into certain molds, nico's vulnerability spoke volumes.

view all 9k comments

user1 it's heartbreaking to see someone so kind and real get treated like this

user2 the pressure he must be under is insane. we forget these are real people

user3 this is so unfair, just let the guy breathe for once

user4 he’s literally milking the whole senna comparison for attention. stop pretending like it’s all ‘the haters’

niconews if you think that’s what this is about, you clearly missed the point

user4 he’s literally crying over people pointing out how much he looks like senna? get over it niconews it’s not about looks, it’s about respect. maybe try understanding that

nicosantos ✔︎

liked by lando, carlossainz55, danielricciardo and 4.1m others

nicosantos bromance is real

tagged: lando

view all 1.4m comments

user1 aww the senna cap

user2 i love nico he's adorable

user3 lando 😭😭

user4 lando is always the funniest person in the group

user5 nico with the senna cap is a whole vibe. love the respect for the legend

user6 this is the kind of bromance we all need in our lives

user7 nico wearing the senna cap but being his own person? love that for him

nicosantos see now i can't tell if you're being sarcastic or fr 💀

user7 i was being fr 😭😭

user8 someone tell lando to stop being this extra, i can’t keep up

[cyberesc]

BEST ENEMY. (1/3)

ft. Prohero!Midoriya x Villain(?)Reader

synopsis: He's the Number One Hero, you're his greatest enemy, and yet no matter how much blood stains your hands, Izuku can't bring himself to stop loving you.

˖⁺‧₊˚ tags & warnings: heavy angst, mentions of blood/violence, mentions of alcoholism, morally grey themes, self-loathing, "if things were different" vibes, unresolved tension

note: I was in the mood for some angst, i wrote this drabble listening to //Ma Meilleure Ennemie// and was inspired by Ekko and Jinxs' relationship

part 2 | part 3

A melody plays in the background as Izuku polishes the armor of his suit, careful with each groove and scratch. His hands are methodical, just like they were the night before when they had closed around your throat.

He’s spent years mastering his self-control, but every time he fights you, it unravels. You make him reckless. Sloppy.

The melody plays on repeat in the dim silence of his apartment, a relic of simpler times. Homecoming. Your hand in his, guiding him through a dance neither of you were particularly good at, but it didn’t matter. You laughed at his awkward footwork, and he swore he’d never felt so warm.

He should stop listening to the song, stop scrubbing away phantom blood that will never truly wash off, stop thinking about the way you smiled at him as he nearly killed you.

You always did have a way of twisting a knife in his heart and making it feel like a lover’s embrace.

Izuku has been in love with you for as long as he’s known what love is.

It was an innocent thing, once. Snot-nosed kids whispering dreams in the dark, two outcasts clinging to each other like lifelines. He wanted to be a hero. You never did.

But you humored him.

You encouraged his dreams, smiled and cheered for him when no one else would, cleaned his wounds when Bakugo shoved him into the dirt. He thought, maybe, if he became strong enough, if he became the kind of hero you could believe in, you wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.

He was wrong.

He knows the way your mind works, the cynicism carved into your bones long before you had the words to explain it. Even as a child, you saw the cracks in the system, the hypocrisy in the heroes you were supposed to admire. He wonders if you ever truly believed in him, or if you just didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

He should hate you.

He wants to hate you.

But when you’re standing across from him, bloodied and grinning, taunting him, all he sees is the person who held him together when he was falling apart.

And that’s why it has to be him.

You both know it.

If you ever go down, it’ll be by his hands.

And if anyone is going to break him beyond repair, it’ll be by yours.

You tilt your head, watching him. He feels stripped bare under your gaze, as if you can see the cracks forming in his resolve.

“You tried to kill me.” Your grin widens, something cruel curling at the edges. “How does it feel?”

His stomach churns. You talk about your near death as if it was a good thing, like his fingers hadn’t trembled around your throat, like you hadn’t looked up at him with relief as he nearly ended you.

He turns on his heel.

“Running away so soon?” you call after him, voice laced with disappointment.

Izuku doesn’t answer. If he stays, he’ll do something reckless again. And he’s already drowning in enough guilt to kill him.

He drowns it the only way he knows how.

The burn of alcohol is nothing compared to the memory of you.

Izuku doesn’t drink often, not really. He knows it’s a bad habit, knows he’s letting you win every time he lets himself spiral. But after that night, after nearly killing you...

He needed something to shut you out.

His fingers tighten around his glass, knuckles white. He wonders, bitterly, if you’d laugh at him for this. If you’d be proud of yourself for breaking the Number One Hero down to this.

Somewhere between his third and fourth drink, he stops wondering.

The next morning, he wakes up with a stranger in his bed, someone whose eyes are the wrong color and hair the wrong shade. He feels bad waking them up but not bad enough to let them stay.

You meet again in the ruins of a battlefield, smoke curling in the air, blood staining the ground.

Izuku is breathing hard, hands shaking from exhaustion. You’re grinning like you haven’t just barely escaped death.

He should say something. Should demand answers, should beg you to stop this.

��I hate you,” he breathes instead.

You laugh, head tilting as if he just said something endearing. “I know."

His jaw clenches. “I wish I never met you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, cleaning your knifes on the ledge of the building.

Izuku stares at you with a raw ache in his chest. He should finish this. Right here, right now.

He stares at you for a few moments, watching your fingers clean the metal of your blade. A chill runs down his spine at the familiar routine.

He shouldn’t be happy that you’d kept an eye on him, that you couldn’t stay away even if you tried.

After a long pause of silence, you look up at him with furrowed brows at his inaction, mouth in a firm line. You were giving him a chance. He missed it, again.

You look down at the road below you, not bothering to spare him a glance as you jumped from the ledge.

“See you soon, hero.”

And then you’re gone, disappearing into the foggy night.

Izuku is left standing there, the weight of his own heart suffocating him.

He wants to hate you.

But he never will.

© property of cyberesc 2025. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/copy onto any other sites.

[cakerybakery]

Dinner was going well. Charlie was a bit surprised. Since Lucifer came to live at the hotel and Adam revived almost six months ago, nearly every meal had been a battlefield.

Alastor picking a fight with Lucifer. Lucifer and Adam at each other’s throats. And that was on top of various dramas involving overlords and sinners.

But things were settling down.

Even when Alastor was trying to get under Lucifer’s skin, Adam seemed to have taken over calming things down. If calming things down meant, telling Alastor to quiet his ass up and for Lucifer to sit his ass back down, then interrupting Alastor every time he tried to make an excuse with a, “kid, I told you to shut up.” Alastor usually vanished after that.

Alastor had left for the night when Adam asked for someone to please pass the salt.

Lucifer handed it to Charlie, “please pass this to your mother, would you, darling?”

“Sure— what did you say?” Charlie blinked as several people started to choke on their drinks or food.

“ADAM!” Lucifer gave a hysterical fake laugh. “Slip of the tongue! I forgot for a moment, we— that. It’s I— Adam! Help me out here.”

“Fuck, no!” Adam wheezed between laughs. “You’re on your own, daddy.” He teased.

Lucifer shot Adam a dirty look as Husk tried to dislodge a piece of chicken from Angel’s throat.

“You might as well tell her.” Adam said still trying to get his breath back.

“Tell me what?” Charlie asked, glaring accusingly at Lucifer, who still fumbled over his words.

“It’s— well. Uhhh. Charlie, darling.”

Charlie pulled away as Lucifer reach for her hand. “Don’t tell me you two are dating.” She wanted to be supportive but that set Adam off again and the colour drained from Lucifer’s cheek marks.

“NO!” Lucifer glared at Adam. “I was going to tell her when I was ready! Asshole.”

“Seriously. Tell me what?”

Lucifer reached for her again but pulled away and fiddled with his cuffs instead. “The divorce is finalized. We signed the paperwork this morning. I’ve been a little distracted, thinking about your mother. Adam had been helping me the last few weeks to get up the nerve to sign everything.”

Adam winked and shot her a finger gun. “Not my first divorce. Been married and divorced six times now. Figured helping him rip the bandage off would net me some of those good karma points or whatever.”

“Oh.” That was all? She knew this was coming. Lilith took off all those years ago and Charlie often told herself Lilith was doing something important, but there had been all the fights, and her mom stormed out, and the divorce papers in the mail.

She knew. But her heart kind of hurt anyway. Things were never going back to normal. To how they had been when she was a kid.

“That’s good news!” She did her best to put on a happy face. “You guys weren’t happy anymore. It’s better than being miserable together.” She tried to remember some of the “So your parents are getting divorced, Champ” pamphlets she’d read when the divorce papers first showed up.

Stuff like, ‘It’s not your fault mommy and daddy aren’t together,’ didn’t seem applicable right now, but, “Sometimes people just grow apart, Dad. And it’s better if you two can move on and find happiness again.”

“You’re taking this better than I thought.” Lucifer smiled softly at her.

“Told you.” Adam had settled back in the eat his food. “She a tough kid. You did a good job with her.”

Lucifer flushed gold. “I—uh, thank you?”

“No problem.”

Dinner settled back down and Adam got his salt, getting plenty of ribbing about Lucifer slip of the tongue in.

Charlie started to clear the table, it was her turn that night, and Adam and Lucifer gave her thanks before leaving and looking closer than they used to be.

“Daddy up for a movie?” Adam teased, jostling Lucifer’s shoulder as they left.

Lucifer snorted. “You’re not going to let that go are you?”

“Never.”

“Turn about is fairplay, mommy.”

She could hear them as they went down the hall.

“Bitch, you think that bothers me? I’m too awesome to care. Now answer the question.”

“Depends on if mommy wants to watch that crappy Titanic movie again or something good.” Lucifer teased.

Adam faked a gasp. “That movie is a classic! It’s cinematic perfection!”

They wandered too far for Charlie to hear anymore of their conversation. But it left her wondering. She shouldn’t assume, but it seemed funny to her that it took someone new in her father’s life for him to move past the divorce at last. Maybe they were just friends.

…

But the mommy/daddy thing was weird, right?

[songbirdseung]

older / park jonseong

jongseong tried his best to be the man for you, to be the one you deserved, did everything for you, showed you how much he loved you. but only gets a heartbreak in return. song recommendation: older by conor matthews & universe by thuy

i think it's safe to say that most people find childhood love to be one of the purest and most endearing things. there’s something so innocent about the way two kids can form a bond—stable yet naive, built on nothing but shared laughter, pinky promises, and the simple joy of each other’s company. to the parents watching from the sidelines, it’s heartwarming. seeing their child shower someone else with love, even in the smallest ways, reassures them that they’ve raised a kid who knows how to care, how to cherish. it feels like proof that they’ve done something right.

but on the other side of the argument, there are those who believe young love is nothing more than fleeting foolishness; that kids have no business being in relationships, that they’re too young to grasp what love truly means or to handle the inevitable heartbreak that follows. let children be children, they say.

your parents and jay’s, however, never thought that way. in their eyes, you and jay were something special. two kids who found each other early, who had the rare gift of experiencing love when most were still figuring out friendship. they saw it as a blessing; something rare, something precious. after all, how lucky were you to find someone who made your heart race before you even understood what it meant? someone who, even in your youth, you were certain you could never be without?

but love, as beautiful as it was, had a way of making people blind. and for as much as your parents adored the bond you and jay shared, they also overlooked the dangers of it. because love at that age wasn’t just innocent... it was reckless. it was consuming. it was two kids falling headfirst into something they didn’t fully understand, unable to see the consequences waiting down the road.

how does someone go from being a stranger to becoming your entire world? how does a person you never even noticed suddenly become the only thing occupying your mind? how does someone go from nothing… to everything?

it started small, as most arguments do. just a spark, something barely worth acknowledging... until suddenly, it wasn’t.

"you don't get it," jay huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, brows furrowed in frustration.

"what is there to get?" you shot back, voice sharp, laced with something you didn’t quite understand yet. "you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“it’s not nothing.”

you scoffed, throwing your hands up. “oh, right. because me walking home with someone else one time is apparently the end of the world.”

jay exhaled, looking away, jaw clenched so tightly you swore you could hear his teeth grind. “it’s not about that.”

“then what is it about, jay?”

he hesitated.

you could see the way he was struggling, the way he was trying to find the right words, like he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but didn’t know if he should say it. and it frustrated you. the silence, the tension, the fact that you were even fighting in the first place over something so stupid, something that should have never turned into this.

so you pushed.

"i don’t understand why you’re acting like this," you muttered, softer now, but still just as stubborn. "like i did something wrong.”

jay ran a hand through his hair, fingers tugging at the strands as he exhaled again, slower this time.

"because," he started, finally meeting your eyes, and for the first time since this argument began, he wasn’t just frustrated, he was hurt. "because i was supposed to walk you home."

your breath hitched.

he shook his head, almost like he was mad at himself for even saying it. "because that’s our thing. and then i saw you with him and-” he stopped himself, letting out a dry laugh that didn’t sound anything like him. "never mind. forget it."

but you couldn’t. because suddenly, it wasn’t about walking home with someone else. it wasn’t about something as mundane as that. it was about jay; jay, who always waited for you after school even when it made him late. jay, who never let you walk on the outer side of the sidewalk. jay, who carried your bag when you complained it was too heavy, who always made sure you got home safe, who, without ever needing to say it out loud, cared in a way you didn’t fully realize until now.

it was about something so much bigger than the argument itself.

it was about you and him.

and maybe… maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

what was once love and adoration turned into sour and bitter remnants of a relationship that had once been everything. the easy laughter, the stolen glances, the quiet understanding. it all turned into sharp words, exhausted sighs, and the undeniable ache of something slipping through your fingers.

the final fight wasn’t about something small anymore. it wasn’t a misunderstanding, a fleeting argument over something that would be forgotten by morning. it was everything, years of built-up tension, of unspoken words, of feelings neither of you knew how to handle at such a young age.

"so that's it?" your voice wavered, trying to sound angry, trying to sound like you didn’t care, but failing miserably.

jay's jaw was clenched, hands in fists at his sides. his eyes held that same look they always did whenever you fought; not just frustration, but something deeper. something pained.

"what else do you want me to say?" he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "we're just… we're not us anymore."

the words hit harder than they should have.

because he was right.

you weren’t the same two kids who thought love was just hand-holding and pinky promises. you had changed, grown into versions of yourselves that no longer fit together the way they once did. and maybe, deep down, you knew this was inevitable.

but knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

the next few weeks passed in a blur. apologies left unsaid, memories packed away, and then, just like that, jay was gone.

moved to another state. a clean break.

no chance to fight for it. no chance to fix it.

just distance, silence, and the heavy weight of knowing that what once was everything had turned into nothing but a memory neither of you wanted to hold onto.

[oacest]

oacest scholars, do you have any gcest fic recs for a beginner?

we decided to answer this in brief and limit ourselves to three recs each or, as evidenced by past failures to answer this same simple and straightforward request from other people, we'd spend forever quibbling about our choices and never actually post the dang thing. here, in no particular order, are some good jumping off points:

trill's recs:

1) @snickfic's baby, you're gonna be the one that saves me, aka my fave fic (technically series, it's got two parts) in this entire fandom. in which liam gets knocked up in the mid 90s by someone who's not noel, to noel's intense anguished jealous heartbreak mild dismay. even if you're not really into mpreg this one is well worth it. the characterization is god tier. bal and i insisted that jackie, who staunchly doesn't like mpreg, read it and even she was converted.

2) i could be your lover, you could be all mine, by hapaxlegomena. a collection of unconnected porn ficlets. lots of extremely tasty stuff in here, i reread random bits of it regularly.

3) the D'YA WANT SOME? series by one of our own triumvirate, bal! im sure she's squirming in horror that im including it but it is by far the best, most well-written, most well-characterized, thoughtful, hilarious, hot, fascinating work in this whole fandom imo, and is a perfect intro to the whole concept of pre/early days oasis and what noel+liam might have been getting up to behind the scenes (as it were) before they were famous.

bal's recs:

1) Filmstar, an orphaned fic on Ao3. This one gets recced plenty but for good reason. It's very funny in a deadpan way and the Liam in it is such a perfect little weirdo. It's a great fic to start with, readable even if you don't know all the lore and whatnot.

2) outta sight and outta mind by lustmord. this author writes Trauma and specifically the brothers' trauma in a way I find endlessly compelling. (for all that Everyone Knows about their shitbag dad, it is still such an unspoken and often unpredictable presence in the room; you can't really get into them without tangoing with it in some fashion)

3) Let Me Be The One, by @savageandwise. absolutely fantastic Liam voice, this author just GETS him. I often think about this quote as a literal thesis statement for Noel's whole insane deal:

You think he's perfectly willing to allude to it in public if he's the one pulling the strings. Cause he thinks he's cleverer than the rest of the world. He thinks it's edgy and rock and roll when he does it. It's his brand of anarchy. And when you do it you're just stupid and embarrassing and determined to destroy everything.

jackie's recs:

1) Trying To Find A World That's Been and Gone by @storyshark2005. my colleagues graciously let me be the one to put it on my list because this is Thee fic. as we were all getting into Oasis initially, this fic was our constant companion and teacher, holding our hand as the fixation unraveled within us. it's a present-day fic that beautifully and masterfully unpacks the entirety of their relationship from the glory days to the estrangement and it is so jam-packed with research and details, you can just assume that everything that's being referenced is based on something that actually happened. in my opinion, this is where any new fan should start.

2) If I Had a Gun by @savageandwise. it's probably cheating to put another fic by this author when bal's already done it, but... I don't care lmao. in many ways we're splitting hairs because all this author's fics are worth your time. but I do hold a special place for this one because it so wonderfully captures the tenuousness of their dynamic at any given moment. how they could go from fighting to flirting to hating each other to needing each other in rapid succession. it feels so true.

3) Here's Looking At You, Kid by RedheadAmongWolves. don't be thrown off by the fact that this is one chapter away from completion, it's still totally worth it. the characterizations are great, the vibes draw you in, the UST is delicious. honestly, this is really meant to function as an overall author rec. there were several here I could've chosen.

[qoldenskies]

Okay okay I'll yammer about Rise!Splinter in your ask box because oh my god I cannot STAND people who legitimately villainize him on main. Like, alright, you can call him an emotionally unavailable or even slightly neglectful parent all you want, because even the show itself makes it clear that his parenting style wasn't exactly PERFECT and probably left the boys with at least a SMALL myriad of issues (Raph's parentification and Donnie's constant need for approval come to mind, though I can't say for sure whether those are entirely borne of Splinter's parenting style lmao). But I feel like so many people through trying to villainize his actions deliberately gloss over the fact that he was probably struggling with hardcore PTSD after spending a decade or more basically being forced to fight in a DEATH ARENA, not to mention probably having a good deal of body dysmorphia because he's suddenly been kind of forcefully shoved into a body that he can't even recognize as his own anymore. PTSD is a genuinely crippling condition to struggle with at times. On top of the depression he more than likely had, it'll make you not even want to get out of bed some days, and to struggle with that AND take care of four INFANTS that you've basically suddenly found yourself the sole caretaker of HAD to require a great deal of both mental and physical strength from Splinter. I'm sure he had his hard days, and the show points that out, but he was still trying his damn hardest to be there and be present for these kids, even if he fucked it up at every turn, even if he was far from the BEST parental figure that they could have had.

People can critique his parenting style as they wish (hell, even I do it), but so many depictions of him as an awful parent feel like they're glossing over the legitimate mental issues that he more than likely has, and idk sometimes I just feel like yammering about it on main

yeah like, a parent can seriously fuck you up completely unintentionally and have understandable, sympathetic reasons for it (while still not being in the right! a kid is never in the wrong for being hurt by an adult who failed them! but they're also well within their right to understand and empathize with a complicated parent who loves and changes for them!). generally im sure a lot of people who write abusive parent splinter genuinely had horrendous and abusive parents and are venting, which is why i tend not to be judgemental to people who do. characters are ultimately devices to drive a plot and if they're writing a story where they want to put them through some shit, that's one way to do it. aus are aus and allat

HOWEVER. lord does it frustrate me when people act like his behavior in the show itself is actually like that. i think its really uncharitable and unsympathetic. like if you want to see some of the things he did to them as potentially unforgivable thats fine, because if they're upset with him they dont have to forgive him, but him dealing with crippling ptsd and depression while being someone who goes out of his way to parent and change and grow while handling it just makes it idk nasty to me ,,,,

and also maybe this is just a hot take but esp. when it comes to raph and donnie i think them having more complex feelings about him makes for more compelling angst. its juicier, and i love to read stories that are empathetic towards everyone involved.

i am not a splinter defender but i will still fight splinter haters (not actually. dont fight me i will cry, i dont main tag most things anymore for a reason lmao)