#I can not stress this enough THIS HAPPENS MOST OF THE TIME I DO THESE

[suzukiblu]

Day one of February’s second weekly WIP behind the cut; “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Kon sighs, then dusts his hands off and eyes Croc’s unconscious body, debating how the fuck he’s supposed to handle this situation. Fuck knows where the cops are, and there’s already a bunch of civilians taking pics and shit of him, so he really doesn’t wanna wait for ‘em. Also, like, explaining why he committed aggravated assault on a giant crocodile dude to the cops does not sound like his favorite time anyway, especially Gotham cops. He technically does have an emergency comm on him, but it’s obviously not tuned into any of the local Bat-channels and he doesn’t really know if he’d be able to sync it up to ‘em. 

Admittedly, Alfred is like, half a block down the street with a cell phone and probably already told his boss literally everything that just happened, but still. 

Actually, speaking of Alfred . . .

Kon refocuses his hearing back towards the limo, and hears–

“Wowwwww,” Jon says from the backseat, sounding awed about . . . something–who knows what, given he’s like ten and Kon doesn’t even know the grown-ass version of him well enough to know what kind of shit the dude thinks is impressive–and Alfred makes a little “hm” sound. 

“Mr. Kent, I do hope you’ve got an ear out,” he says, which even if Kon didn’t would’ve caught his attention pretty quick. “The police have an estimated time of arrival at two and a half minutes, and they were informed to come equipped for Killer Croc. Please do retreat out of the public eye for now, though I’m sure Master Bruce would appreciate the consideration if you wouldn’t mind keeping a bit of an eye on the situation until they have Mr. Jones secured. We’ll rendezvous with you on Pearl Street in seven minutes.” 

There is literally no version of Bruce Wayne that has ever “appreciated” a single thing Kon has ever considered in his life, except maybe for that one weirdo in Hypertime who’d definitely just wanted a Robin that was bombproof this time, but whatever. Kon nods once, short and sharp, and then takes off with superspeed in the opposite direction from Croc and the fucked-up street, if not Super-speed. That he saves ‘til he ducks into a conveniently out-of-sight alley, shoves the security camera over the emergency exit in the back of it askew with his TTK, and then takes off straight up into the air too fast for human eyes to follow. 

He should’ve avoided tearing up the street like that, probably, even if Croc and his boys had already fucked it up pretty bad. Didn’t mean he needed to go making shit worse. He’s maybe a little stressed, but he fucking knows better. 

Ugh. 

Kon hangs out above the heavy gray smog and cloud cover, wishing there were some sun up here instead of just moonless night, and keeps one ear focused on Croc and the other half-paying attention to the limo, just in case. The cops do in fact show up in two and a half minutes, and by then Alfred’s already taken Jon and the limo most of the way to Pearl Street. Kon can hear Jon chattering excitedly about something and Alfred at least making some more little “hm” sounds in response, though he doesn’t focus in enough to eavesdrop. Rude, for one thing, and also a distraction he should be avoiding anyway. 

He waits around to make sure they get Croc locked up nice and secure in the heavy-duty restraints and armored truck they brought without him waking up and taking anyone’s head off or anything like that, and it goes surprisingly smoothly for Gotham, though the cops have a fuckin’ time of it getting Croc’s K.O.’ed ass into the back of the truck. Kon would be more concerned about the possibility of a head injury with the guy staying out for so long, but a quick X-ray glance already cleared him for at least the first-aid level basics, so like, it’s probably that weird “toxic mobility” thing Tim was talking about that time he was explaining Croc’s whole thing to him. Or–no, “tonic”, and “immobility”. Whatever, he just knows Croc usually stays out longer than a baseline human would and it’s not a concern. Just some weird side effect of his whole . . . everything, basically. 

This is not in any way his circus or even his monkeys, but hey, why not be the interdimensional version of neighborly? Like, just while he’s in the reality and all. Lend the local Bats a cup of sugar, metaphorically-speaking. Batman’s gonna bitch about him doing it and how he handled it the first second he sees him, obviously–even after Alfred asked him to do it, he’ll definitely bitch–but whatever. He wasn’t gonna let anybody get hurt just because Batman gets pissy when vigilantes without any Bat-branding exist in his territory. 

So yeah, he waits around.

[moonyswolfie]

Study Session

A/N: So I just finished a torturously long exam session and this fic is a result of all the stress and mental breakdowns I've accumulated like Pokemons during this time. I actually wrote this piece between two of my biggest and most difficult exams, hence the N.E.W.T.s coming in to play. I hope you enjoy and if you relate, I'm so sorry! Remember that you are strong and no amount of academic stress can bring you down!

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

Masterlist

The table you were sat at in the Library was so crowded with textbooks and parchments that you could not see the wood any longer. Notes and cheat sheets, explanatory scrolls of parchments, quills and bottles of ink covered the entire surface. Hell, Lily even brought a dictionary. Merlin knew what use would a muggle dictionary have when it came to magical terms, but you learned a long time ago to never question her genius.

It was N.E.W.T.s season and to say that all 5 of you were stressed would be an understatement. James thought that once you passed your O.W.L.s, the N.E.W.T.s would not be as scary as everyone made them out to be. It was an exam session, a very long and tiresome and perhaps crucial exam session, but it wasn't Voldemort, right?

Wrong. The stress was growing by the hour and despite having two more weeks at your disposal to revise and memorise all you needed to, it didn't feel like enough.

But then again, was it ever enough? 

You've been preparing for the N.E.W.T.s since the beginning of the school year, forcing yourself to attend every class and take a ginormous amount of notes that you knew would probably end up useless or lost somewhere at the bottom of your book bag. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to pause. Failure was not an option.

So far you tackled Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, all of them easy and rather entertaining subjects, if you were to say so yourself. Right now however, you were stuck on the same Potions chapter for the past four hours and were just about ready to scream, cry, Avada Kedavra yourself or better yet, all of the above.

"Hey, Sirius?" 

He hums and looks up, noticing your twitching eye and the exasperation rolling off you in waves. 

"Y/N, are you okay?" 

The concern was palpable and it caught the attention of your boyfriend in an instant, yet Remus knew better than to pester you with questions right now. He was adamant about rest and health being your first priority, but considering his own overcrowded study schedule, he would be a hypocrite to point it out at the moment. He did, however, push a goblet of water in your direction, which you eagerly accepted and gulped down in seconds. You weren't exactly allowed food or beverages in the Library, but what Pince didn't know would not hurt her.

You thanked Remus and handed the goblet back, before turning to Sirius and taking a deep breath to regain your composure. 

"I have been rereading this chapter for the majority of our time here and I still don't understand the origins or the side effects of Amortentia when used for a longer period of time. No one really bothered to detail on them in any of our textbooks and I am not sure anyone ever subjected themselves to testing it out and then writing a memoir about it. However, Slughorn oh so graciously announced us that it might be included in the advanced exam topics. Do you happen to have anything on this? I know he mentioned some in class, but I didn't catch all of them."

"I think I do..."

He shuffles some parchments and knocks down some books, thus earning himself a stern look from Madame Pince, but ultimately finds the notes and hands them over.

"There you go, love."

You smile and thank him, humming while you scan the information. For such a chaotic human being, he had the neatest handwriting you've ever seen.

It doesn't take long for you to find the part about side effects, however there was nothing you didn't already write down yourself. Thankfully though, Sirius was the type of person to absently write down everything he heard so you found other helpful pieces of information. This was why you asked him for the notes in the first place, instead of Remus or James. Remus, much like yourself, only wrote the parts he was less certain of, whereas James didn't write anything at all. And Lily, Merlin bless her, she was a growing disaster when it came to writing information down. There was, contrary to her claims, no method to her madness.

You rolled up the parchment once you were done writing, yet kept it close, just in case you needed it again later. Sirius was studying for Transfiguration, so he wouldn't miss the notes anytime soon. Lily turned to you, ready to ask a question regarding a Charms lesson she was too sick to attend, but stopped and frowned, browsing the page spread out on the table in front of you.

"Y/N, why are your notes bilingual?" 

You turned and followed her gaze to the margins, specifically to the terminology you borrowed from Sirius...

You unscrolled his notes again and placed them next to yours, looking from one to the other with a bemused smile. Next to the name of the potion, you drew a little arrow and wrote amour et obsession, which would have been inconspicuous, had you not added une potion délicate and l'amour impossible devient possible.

There were a few more next to the ingredients list and some corrections made regarding the mode of preparation. As you scanned the two sets of notes, you noticed that his were entirely in French, while you half translated, half copied your added bits.

You didn't know what was funnier, that you mindlessly wrote the information in Frenchglish, or that you didn't notice it was in another language to begin with. 

English was your mother tongue, yet like every other pureblooded offspring, you were forced to attend a variety of language lessons to determine which ones you would be more skilled in. Romantic languages proved to be your forte, so you stuck with French, Italian and Latin. It wasn't easy in the beginning, seeing as they are all mere variations of the latter, therefore making them ridiculously easy to mix up and combine in the oddest of sentences, but you persevered and were now fluent in all four. 

Regardless, slip ups like the one you were tiredly staring at now were not unheard of. You were certain it was a testament to how tired you truly were. Perhaps Remus was right, you should rest more.

But then again, this was not a simple exam session. It was the one that would determine your entire future. You could sleep when you're dead.

"You write your notes in French?"

Sirius' head shot up immediatey, confusion written all over his face.

"Yes?"

By now everyone's attention was on your exchange, which deepened his frown. James looked like he missed everything until that very moment, Remus was watching his best friend with a raised brow and Lily was silently shaking her head, smiling. She didn't know how she ended up with the lot of you, but she knew she loved you dearly.

"French is my first language" Sirius added, as if that was all the explanation you needed.

Sadly, it did nothing to clear up the confusion. When neither of you said anything, he added "doesn't everyone take notes in their first language?"

Despite Remus being the only other person in your group who wasn't a native English speaker, therefore making him the best candidate to answer his friend, you all shook your heads, your faces betraying different levels of amusement and fondness. It was a rather endearing situation.

"I don't take notes in Welsh, if that's what you're asking. I don't think I can even translate half the things correctly. Besides, the spells are in Latin, so imagine how that would look on a piece of parchment."

You chuckled at the mental image of magical notes looking more like pages taken from that muggle author's book, Tolkien. Lily followed and you both received a glare and a pointed "shhh" from Madame Pince. Honestly, it was a wonder she wasn't kicking you out at this point.

"Wait a second" James turned towards his best friend "ALL of your notes are in French?"

Sirius nods. Poor baby looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"But don't you..." you frown, unsure how to formulate your question "I see you writing constantly. If the Professor speaks, you write. How..." you groan, burying your face in your hands and shaking your head "my brain hurts. You look as if you write down everything that is said in class, so I assumed that you do?”

You peek an eye up only to be met with Sirius chuckling silently.

“I do write mostly everything that is said in class, but first I summarize it and I guess it’s easier to summarize it in French. I find it easier if I reformulate the information because it shows I understood the concept, but to avoid learning something mechanically and forgetting it when I flip the page, I use my own words. The only issue is that sometimes I forget the word I need in English or there isn’t even a word in English for said thing to begin with. Thus French. And no one really asked me for my notes before you so I didn’t see any reason to put any effort in translating them. And you didn’t seem to have a problem with it anyway.” he adds with an amused smirk, remembering Lily’s previous comment about your notes

You mask your chuckle with a cough and glance at your notes again.

“That is actually a great idea, Pads, I might have to start doing it myself.”

“NO!”

The lot of you was startled by James’ whisper-shout. You gave him a bewildered look, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Are you alright, big brother?”

“Don’t you dare. I know you and your disturbingly brilliant mind. If you start implementing this method, you’re going to write your notes in Latin” he squints, an accusatory look in his eyes “and where am I going to get my last minute notes from then?”

That was it, you couldn’t hold it in any longer if you tried. You burst out laughing, prompting an exaggerated “SHHH” to be directed your way.

“This is your last warning, if you cannot keep quiet, I suggest you move your little study session to your Common Room.”

Madame Pince was stern, yet you couldn’t fault her this time. You were loud and you certainly disturbed a few of your peers seated at nearby tables.

“Sorry” you whisper with a sheepish look.

You returned your attention to the table just in time to catch Lily placing a sweet kiss on James’ cheek, mumbling “don’t worry, my love, I won’t leave you noteless” which seemed to lift his spirits immediately. As grossed out as you were by their affection sometimes (what are sisters for after all?), you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. You were really happy he found his better half, even if it happened to be one of your best friends.

But after all, you did return the favour, did you not?

Remus’ hand found yours under the table and he squeezed it affectionately. You squeezed right back and smiled up at him, mouthing “I love you” and delighting in the beautiful smile that took over his face for the rest of the day.

[mrspiastri]

I would like to request a desi girl x lewis fic

desi munda 🪅

pairing: lewis hamilton x desi!reader

cw: fluff, lewis being a bit negative etc etc

wc: 2k words

an: thanks anon, hope u like my first lewis fic!

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

“The last time I felt like this before a race was probably in 2008. It’s madness,” Lewis lamented in his driver’s room as he put on his fireproofs, getting ready to review the final data before hopping into the car.

“Well, it probably has to do with the fact that you’re racing in India after more than a decade. Unfamiliar track and all that jazz,” Y/N responded from where she was seated on the couch, filing her nails and adding the final touches to her makeup.

“I think it might be more because my gorgeous girlfriend won’t even look at my face,” he commented with a slight grin as he shimmied into his race suit.

She playfully rolled her eyes, snapping her compact mirror shut and stuffing it into her purse before looking at him. “There, now I’m all yours.” She smiled up at him as he walked across the room, towering over her.

“I think you’ve got a lot of pressure on you today, and not just from Fred and the team,” Y/N stated, making Lewis groan before plopping down next to her on the couch in a less-than-graceful manner.

“If you’re talking about your family, then yes, it’s probably that. I think I saw all your cousins and your aunts in the first three rows of the grandstands,” he muttered pitifully, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. She took pity on him, wrapping her arms around him as he continued ranting.

“I know they’re excited to see their future son-in-law doing what he does best—” Y/N let out an incredulous grunt at this—“but this is INSANE! I might die of stress, honestly.”

She laughed at him before holding his chin and making him look up at her. “You’re going to do wonderful, Lew. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. They all know you’re the best damn driver on the grid; they’re just excited to see you in your element.”

“But if I don’t win, they’re going to think I’m useless. A washed-up, no-good idiot who can’t even win a stupid race,” he sighed, slumping further down, letting his negative thoughts take over.

Y/N sat up straighter at this. “I know you’re not talking about yourself like that. Lewis, you are an amazing driver, and you know that very well,” she said firmly, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Besides, my whole family loves you! You could come dead fucking last, and they’d still cheer. Heck, you could DNF, and they’d cheer as you brought your car into the pits to retire from the race.”

Lewis let out a dry laugh at that. He couldn’t exactly deny it.

“I just... I don’t want them to think I’m a loser. I want them to see me as a part of their family—as your future husband. If they see me lose, they’ll think I’m not good enough for you,” he finally admitted, revealing what had been weighing on him ever since Y/N told him her family would be attending the race.

Y/N was silent, emotions warring inside her. On one hand, she was shocked he thought so lowly of himself and his reputation in front of her family. But on the other hand, the fact that he had thought so far ahead about their future made her want to grab his face and kiss him until he forgot every single doubt in his head.

“Lew, I promise you—whatever happens today won’t change their perception of you. To them, you are the coolest, most enigmatic person ever. And you’re *definitely* the best catch out of all the other partners my family members have brought home. I mean, come on, who can beat a seven-time Formula One World Champion?”

A knock at the door interrupted them, a staff member reminding Lewis that he had to check the final corrections made to the car after qualifying before the formation lap started in 15 minutes.

“I’ll meet my parents in the garage; you go on ahead,” she said, standing up and adjusting the red dress she wore, showing her full support for the Ferrari driver.

Lewis got into the car, checking if the throttle and steering were working fine. “Seems good. Wanna start the lap?” he asked his engineers, receiving an affirmative response.

Y/N leaned down and kissed his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on his skin. “A kiss for good luck—and to remove the stupid thoughts in your head.”

“I was hoping for a proper one,” Lewis playfully pouted up at her.

“That’s for after the race. You gotta have something to look forward to, na?”

He simply laughed before putting on his helmet. The sound of his car revving up echoed in the garage as he exited. Y/N, meanwhile, made her way to the back where her parents waited for her, smiling at the conversation she had just had with Lewis.

“He seems stressed. Hope it doesn’t affect his performance,” her dad pointed out, making her sigh in worry.

“He is. Honestly, he’s more worried about disappointing the family than he is about losing,” she confided.

“I hope you told him he’s crazy for even thinkingthat,” her mother gasped.

Y/N winked while putting her headphones on. “You know it.”

🪺🪺🪺

It was the final lap of the race. Lewis had overtaken Max at the start of lap 37, after tailing him for more than half of the race. In the Ferrari garage, tensions were high, with both drivers in podium positions.

As the checkered flag waved, Lewis soared past it, clinching victory in front of his girlfriend’s home crowd and further cementing Ferrari’s Constructors’ Championship title contention.

The announcers’ voices boomed throughout the grandstands, the crowd erupting into cheers. Everyone at the Ferrari garage ran out to celebrate with Lewis and Charles in parc fermé, the latter having placed third. Y/N and her parents were escorted to where the podium finishers had gathered their cars.

Lewis stood on his car, bowing to the roaring fans with his palms pressed together in a namaste pose—just like she had taught him.

The team cheered him and Charles on, with pats on the back and massive hugs. Lewis was all smiles, scanning the crowd until his eyes found Y/N, waving at him from behind the barriers.

He ran up to her, lifting her off the ground in the biggest hug he could manage without hoisting her over the barrier. She hugged him tighter, his helmet getting in the way.

He pulled it off, handing it to a team member before pulling her in again. “Now, about that kiss you mentioned earlier...” he grinned.

“You are impossible!” Y/N laughed, playfully pushing his chest.

“Good thing you love it.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t let him suffer for long. She leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slow and lingering, as if they wanted to memorize the feel of each other. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She melted into him, gripping the front of his race suit, anchoring herself in his warmth.

The crowds, the cheers, the cameras—it all faded into the background.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads rested together, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I forgot we were in public for a second.”

He chuckled, fingers tracing her back. “Me too. Hope your dad doesn’t beat the shit out of me.”

Her parents decided to turn a blind eye to the couple, instead focusing on congratulating Lewis on his win. However, he couldn’t help but notice her father slapping his back just a little harder than necessary, a certain look in his eye that made Lewis straighten up.

🪺🪺🪺

Later, in the Ferrari hospitality, Y/N groaned as Lewis reached for her.

“Please shower! The champagne and sweat combined make me want to puke.”

Lewis, of course, ignored this, chasing her around until he finally caught her in his grasp—sweat, champagne, and all.

“You’re so disgusting. I just washed my hair, yaar.”

Her smirk, however, gave her away.

“Well, Lewis,” her cousin quipped, “you’ve definitely earned your spot in the family now.”

Lewis grinned. “Well, I’d hope so. It was very nice of you all to come out today—really motivated me. And scared the living shit out of me.”

The whole room burst into laughter. Her father cleared his throat, eyeing the two of them. “You’ve done well today, beta. You’ve got speed, skill, and determination—but most importantly, you make my daughter happy.

Lewis straightened slightly, sensing the weight of the moment. “That means the world to me, sir.”

Her father studied him for a beat before nodding approvingly. “Good. Now go shower before you suffocate us with that champagne stench.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. “I told you.” Lewis laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s temple before heading off. “I’ll be back—don’t have too much fun without me.”

🪺🪺🪺

The afterparty was in full swing by the time Lewis and Y/N arrived. The upscale venue was buzzing with energy—team members, rival drivers, and VIP guests mingled over glasses of champagne, the hum of conversations blending seamlessly with the music playing overhead.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, celebratory drinks, and the undeniable electricity of victory.

When the doors opened, all heads instinctively turned toward the couple making their entrance.

Lewis Hamilton, still glowing from his win, walked in with Y/N by his side, her right arm slotted in the crook oh his left one. They were well dressed as always — Lewis in a well-fitted, deep blue kurta, a nod to Y/N’s heritage, and Y/N in a breathtaking red saree that shimmered under the golden lights. The rich fabric draped over her in a way that left little to the imagination, her bangles softly jingling as she adjusted her hold on his arm.

“Well, don’t we look like a power couple?" Charles teased, raising his glass as they approached.

Y/N smirked. "You’re just jealous, Charlie."

“Of the matching outfits or the fact that you two have already stolen all the attention?" Carlos chimed in with a grin.

Lewis chuckled, placing a protective hand on the small of Y/N’s back. "Can’t blame them. My girl does clean up pretty damn well."

Y/N turned to him, eyes dancing with amusement. "Only fair, considering I dressed you."

Lewis leaned in slightly, voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was doing you a favor by looking this good." She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she tugged him toward the bar.

"Come on, Mr. Race Winner, let’s get you a drink before you get too cocky." The bartender barely had a chance to ask before Charles called out, "A whiskey for the champion and—Y/N, what are you drinking?"

"White wine," she replied.

Lewis took the glass from the bartender and handed it to her before raising his own in a silent toast. "To surviving your family’s initiation," he joked.

She laughed softly, clinking her glass against his. "Oh, you’re not done yet. This is just the beginning. But let’s talk about that later, because the only thing I’m focusing on is how good you look in this kurta.”

He laughed, “Well you’re the one who said I should wear this instead of the red one I wanted to go with.”

“It’s called contrast, and we’re pulling it off well. Besides, you look much more handsome in this, like a proper desi munda.

Lewis narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "That sounds both adorable and terrifying. Should I be worried?"

Y/N smirked, "Don’t worry about it.”

Before he could question her, the music shifted to something slower, more sultry, and Lewis took that as his cue. Handing his glass to Carlos, he turned to Y/N with a familiar glint in his eye.

"May I have this dance?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You? Dancing at a public event?"

Lewis smirked, pulling her toward him without waiting for an answer. "For you? Always."

And just like that, in the middle of the celebration, the world shrank down to just the two of them—spinning, laughing, and getting lost in each other, a champion on the track and in love.

never written for lewis before so hope this is nice anon. honestly not very proud of this one but like fuck it we ball <4

[hanaybuns]

Misconception about Karamatsu

ok so i plan to make a more in depth analysis about karamatsu's relationship with his brothers individually and as a group, but first i have to get something out of the way

i think what some people need to understand about karamatsu is that, yes, he's a kind person for being able to tolerate all the crap his brothers put him through, but thats also sometimes just how siblings are.

like, if you're an only child or have a really friendly relationship with your sibling, you might not understand. but as someone who has a very totty-esque younger sibling, i totally understand why karamatsu is able to let it slide.

(way...way too many examples to count...)

because when my younger sibling insults me or steals my food or uses my haircare or ruins my stuff, for the most part, i don't care. or i guess i can't care. why? because that's just how they are. that's just how it is! if i made a fit every single time something like that happened, i would go half crazy (just look at choromatsu)

i cannot stress to you guys enough that the whole experience of being an older sibling is literally just putting up with various bs that your younger siblings do. you have to let it slide because you're older and supposedly more mature. like, i'm not a saint, i just let it slide because i don't have a choice! that's just how my younger sibling is, and there's honestly really nothing i can do about that.

honestly, if anything, rather than kind i think it displays that karamatsu is mature and takes his position as second oldest seriously. i'm petty, so honestly i'll still argue and insult them back when they piss me off. but karamatsu? kara's as cool as a cucumber. just lets out a mmmm~~? and calls it a day

i'll go more in depth about this on a later day, but this is also why kara is harsher on osomatsu when he's being awful. it's because kara takes his role as an older brother seriously and has higher standards for osomatsu because that's his only older brother.

so yeah this isn't exactly an analytical post, but i feel like i always see people citing the fact that karamatsu puts up with todo and ichi's awfulness towards him as evidence that he's this kind, saint-like angel. but i feel like that's a mischaracterization that stems from a lack of understanding about sibling relationships.

while i do think kara is kind, this more so feels like a heightened sense of responsibility as an older sibling than anything. he's kind of just used to being the bigger person and doesn't care that much anymore (i still think he may care a little, but he's too exclusivematsu to express it). and even then, i don't think he's always consciously trying to be mature about it, sometimes he just feels like it'll be not worth the trouble to complain (pizza skit).

i still think it's a good trait in and of itself, because it's honestly soooo hard to let things slide at times for me, but ultimately...it's kind of just part of being an older sibling.

[lilbitofsomthin]

Dead Pixel Anya and Tiny Crispy Curly

⚠️CURLYA RANT INCOMING⚠️

TLDR: I only ship Curlya after the crash in a happy ending AU I made up :D

Okay so imma take this opportunity to rant about Curly and Anya’s relationship and the ✨only✨ time I will ever even entertain the thought of Curlya as a ship (cause like most of it is what I see pre crash and I’m like ✨no thank you✨)

First off forget and I mean FORGET anything pre crash. My mans is not ready for all that is Anya. He’s the definition of unworthy. Has not had his ✨arc✨. Has not truly drank his fair share of respect women juice 😔

When it was Curlys turn to care for Anya he failed spectacularly, like a main plot point of the game is how bad he fucked up by standing aside and letting J*mmy hurt her. So BAM he becomes cosmically and ironically put into a mirror position to Anya’s in their relationship.

Because now, in an instant, his very life is now in HER hands. She is literally the only one who can save him. Idk all of the medical knowledge to understand just how royally fucked up Curly was, it’s safe to say that keeping him alive at any rate would’ve been difficult to do. So that fact that she did it, with only the bare essentials of medical supplies, by herself, is nothing short of incredible.

She worked herself to the bone for months to keep him alive. After knowing that he failed her. After knowing her didn’t protect her. Knowing, for a FACT, that he wouldn’t do the same, and she still saved him anyway.

I mean, I’m sure at some point Curly must have realized that too.

And like THATS the part where I’m like “if I was Curly I would’ve fallen in love with her a little bit”. Not in the “oh you saved me I’m indebted to you” or “severely trauma bonded” way, I’m speaking in the characters being able to kinda analyze even in crazy stressful situations (like all the monologues and stuff being very well written and deeply metaphorical gives me the idea that their all capable of self reflection (except of course for J*mmy but that’s not the point).

So like I imagine that Curly can reflect on the fact that, after he failed her, over and over and over again. To the point where everything literally blew up in his face. And when the tables were turned and it was his life in Anya’s hands? She held no resentment, no malice. She saved him over and over and over again. And he had to have realized how incredible of a person she was at that point.

But only now that he finally realizes it, he can no longer say do or say anything about it. And listen that’s not even getting into J*mmy revealing his more obvious abusive tendencies to Curly. Because now not only does he have perspective on how strong of a person Anya is but how horrific the abuse was from J*mmy while being on the receiving end of it. That’s like a double serving of empathy and understanding. I’d like to imagine that, if we got to play as Curly, he’d go through that realization. 🤷

Okay now that THATS out of the way let’s get to FANON SHIT!!!! Time for the happy ending aus baby! Listen I love the game but I wanna see the characters I love get to resolve their traumas cause they deserve it!! I KNOW WHY CANON IS THE WAY IT IS I JUST WANNA PLAY PRETEND ON THE INTERNET!!

Just a quick psa, okay back to it.

I like to imagine that in those rescue aus they happen riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight after Daisuke gets out of the vent and finds Anya (btw I’m gonna say at this point her body was under too much stress and she lost the pregnancy). Apparently overdoses can be reversed so let’s say our rescue team is able to work hard and save Anya and patch up Daisuke.

The rescue team is also clocking J*mmy immediately cause this is all REALLY fucking sketchy

“why’d you send the intern into a vent shaft that you knew was dangerous”

“oh Captain said if I did I’d make my boss proud 😄”

🧍🧍🧍🧍 “dude your like 40 why’d you send the intern half your age that’s fucked up”

like that alone is enough for them to be suspicious but once Anya’s up all bets are off. I mean the shit show J*mmy “captained” the Tulpar to mostly speaks for itself but once Anya can tell someone what happened to her they can put enough together to put him in whatever space brig they have. That’s because we got a rescue team of space feminists who believe victims baby!!!

“And who funded this whole rescue hmmmmm??” I hear you say? No one. Nope. 🙂‍↔️ Capitalism doesn’t get to take the fun out of my character study so imma say their “Volunteer Rescue for International Cosmic Waters” or something idk 🤷. That’s not the point. The point is that this is a big shit show that got revealed by people that Pony Express couldn’t pay hush money to. And when I mean revealed I mean, this became a huge news story cause it had such a great hook. I mean that was the whole advertisement for the game!

“Crew lost in space forced to eat mouthwash while their former captain has been mutilated in the crash”

I mean I saw that on like 5 different thumbnails. Anyway people love a good story and the one Mouthwashing tells with a RELIABLE narrator at this point is tragic BUT salvageable.

Like Curly is gonna have like serious medical intervention and Daisuke will probably need stitches for the gash in his arm and Anya will need to be hospitalized from the stress of keeping Curly alive alone. Swansea might need like, idk a Tylenol or something idk? But like they CAN recover, the wrongs that Pony Express allowed can’t be made right but can at least be helped out with.

I imagine that this news story is like planet wide news. If I know humans, we love to help when we have a target and this story was popular as hell. So id like to imagine that they could the crew with whatever financial troubles they would be having. Curly could afford operations, Anya could afford medical school (which she doesn’t need because you better believed she got full ride scholarships for SAVING A MAN MUTILATED FROM THE CRASH FOR MONTHS WITH A GLORIFIED FIRST AID KIT), Daisuke could go to college (I know some people headcanon engineering or art so take your pick) Swansea could even retire if he wanted idk.

And we get the rare satisfaction of getting to see someone like J*mmy to be revealed for exactly what he is on a global scale. He’s tried, prosecuted and the world is on the crews side and they become micro celebrities (kinda like those news stories where everyone talks about it and pushed a bunch of support for like 2 weeks then moved to the next thing) cause fuck you capitalism human nature is enriched in empathy 😤

So here’s where I like to imagine where fix it fics start. The stage is set, therapy bills are paid and while everyone gets a nightmare or panic attack every now and again, things have officially been given the “happy ending au” stamp. So call “my version” of the story an angst with a happy ending rather than the original tragedy and cautionary tale 🤷

So like NOW we can START on the POSSIBILITY of curlya.

That’s right the idea of these characters getting together is a tick that has crawled in my brain and I am cursed.

Because now Curly has his chance to drink respect women juice. And you better believe my man’s gonna chug that shit. And honestly I can see Anya respecting Curly for trying to grow. Like everything is 1000% platonic (I mean maybe a little one sided crush on Curlys side and maaaybe something develops later on) and the main 4 crew are all kinda hanging out for a few reasons (interviews and meet and greets or whatever people who survive major news stories do) and also like they DID go through a shit storm together so their a little trauma bonded but in a found family way.

Anyways THIS is where I imagine all Curlya stuff to take place. This fun low stakes “we made it through the storm and now we can rest on the shore” kind of happy ending zone.

And like maybe they can get up to shenanigans and work through their trauma and love and support each other. That’s like where my fan content takes place 🧍

⚠️SO IF I EVER POST ANYTHING AND TAG IT AS “CURLYA” THIS IS THE CONTEXT IM PUTTING IT IN!!!!! I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT ANYTHING THAT WAS OFFICIALLY RELEASED IN CANON OR IN THE CONTEXT OF THE GAME!!!! I SHIP CURLYA AS A PURELY FANON CONCEPT⚠️

Like idk if this is media literacy or brain rot at this point but that’s my rant thanks for reading :D

[w0rmss]

Hi hi!!

I'm wondering if you could do something domestic with Jason and an anxious! or maybe something to do with stress baking? I'd really like if it were mostly fluff but ultimately it's dealer's choice.

Have a great Day/Afternoon/Evening/Night!!!

Thank you for the request i did two one with just general anxiety and one including the stress baking hope you enjoy.

(The anxiety is heavily influenced by my own just waning)

tw anxiety panic attacks/ anxiety attacks stress baking.

Work was stressful right now and your shared apartment with your boyfriend Jason was a mess. Everything was just getting two much and your head was racing a million miles an hour. ‘you’ll never finish the project in time and pull get fired.’ ‘Jason will hate you for messing up the apartment while he’s gone.’ ‘Everything is a mess and it’s your fault.’ All these thoughts race through your head. You know they’re not true but your logical brain isn’t working and everything is too much. Your chest gets tight and your head spins. Your hands fidget with the cloth in them and you cant think straight. Everything is loud and you cant focus on your breathing no matter how hard you try.

Jason walks through the front door after a mission. He’d been gone for a few days and hoped you’d be fine without him. When he walked in he found you curled up hyperventilating on the couch. “Baby.” He dropped his bag and rushed over to you kneeling in front of you. “Hey hey it’s okay. Can i take your hands.” You let him take hold of your shakey hands. “Deep breath okay. In.” He takes a deep breath and you do the same. “And out.” You breathe out. “Again.” His voice is soft and loving his presence calming. He sits with you walking you through breathing exercises till you’ve calmed down and your breathing is normal and your head somewhat cleared.

Jason sits next to you with you curled into his side. “Wanna tell me what happened. I not it’s fine.” He asks finally breaking the silence. You sigh and curl into him further. “Everything got to much and the thoughts took over.” You fee silly, even if you know you shouldn’t you’d been working on this with both your therapist and Jason, yet you still let the thoughts take over. “Hey it’s okay. I know we talked about starving the thought gremlins but sometimes he’s extra hunger and wont stop. And thats okay too.” He rubs your hip lovingly. The thoughts are gone for now and all you focus on is being with Jason.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The whole place smells like bake goods when Jason gets up from his nap and the kitchen is covered in said good along with the ingredients and you. You stand backing in the middle of the small kitchen muttering about deadlines. Jason sighs. He’s been with you long enough to know when you get stressed you bake and then you dont stop because you’re so stressed. “Baby?” Jason walks further into the kitchen. “Mmm” you hum in respond not looking up from where you’re beating egg whites like they killed your dog. “How long have you been at this.” He asks picking up a cookie and taking a bite. “Not that I'm complaining i love your baking this is just a tad much no.” That gets your attention and you look around seeing the mess and the cookies cakes and croissants in the kitchen. “When did i make croissants.” You mumble realising you went a bit over bored. “Umm… some to the neighbours?” You smile sheepishly looking at the mess you made. Jason nods taking another bite from the cookie. “Good idea. I’ll help clean up.

It doesn’t take long for you both to clean up the kitchen and you give most of the baking to the kids in the complex. Finally you and Jason sit down together on the couch. “Next time you’re that stressed, tell me so you dont go that overboard again. I’m here to help baby. I love you.” He kisses your forehead. “I know im sorry works just ugh, I didn’t think it was that bad.” Jason reaches over and turns on the tv pulling you closer. “Love you Jay.” You smile. “Love you too baby”

Hope you enjoyed keep request i will get to them eventually. Thank you so much for all the likes on my stuff i really appreciate it and thank you so much.

also if you suffer from really bad stress or anxiety there are some great free resources online and on YouTube. Please stay safe and take care of your mental health guys it’s so important.

Have a wonderful day night afternoon etc ❤️

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Maybe you're just not worth it (maybe you're worth a little more)

born into the world with two left feet in the grave - series masterlist here

pairing: barty crouch jr x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.5k

genre: fluff, kinda angsty ig

warnings: smoking, drinking, it's a party, vague allusions to hook ups, a fight breaks out but it's only vaguely described, may I offer you the two most emotionally damaged ppl you've ever seen, there's tension and pining and they don't get together yet but it'll happen

a/n: hey finally lololol this should be a fun one but lemme know if anyone cares enough to want more of this

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Fuck around with them like that?"

"I don't know what you mean, Barty," you shrug easily, twirling a cigarette between your fingers. You're propped up on one of the grand, stone windowsills in a hidden corner of the Slytherin common room, the blue-green light filtering in from the lake through the stained glass and washing over the two of you.

"Yes you do," Barty scowls, and when he stomps over to you and reaches out, you move to hand him the cigarette. But he just wraps slender, pale fingers around your wrist and lights it for you with a flick of his wand. Then he watches, tall enough to tower over you still as you sit on the sill and he stands, as you blow smoke just past his face. 

"Why are you looking at me like I'm doing something wrong?" you ask softly, tipping your head back against the cool stone wall. 

"I just don't know why you do it."

"Do what?"

"We're talking in circles," Barty snaps.

"So say something new," you quip back. He places his hands on the windowsill just shy of where you're sitting, leaning a bit closer to you. This time, you blow a puff of smoke right into his face, watching as he blinks through it. 

"Are you really going to make me work for it?" he sighs, but there's an airiness in his voice that isn't often there.

"You're a clever boy, Barty. That's what makes you so fun." You watch as he plucks the cigarette from your grasp. "Ask the right questions and you'll get the right answers."

"You don't have fun with me," he says lowly, and this time a frown tugs at his lips as he tilts his head away from you to blow smoke off to the side before passing your cigarette back to you. "Why do you fuck around with all the guys like that?"

"That's not the right question, Bart," you offer gently in lieu of a response.

"I don't care," he scowls. "Answer it anyway."

"It's just fun," you shrug. "That's what these parties are for, right? We all go, we drink, we flirt, we - it never really means anything, you know."

"I know," Barty stresses, frowning at you still. "That's my point. You're playing games that only you can win."

"You… worried I'm gonna hurt someone's feelings?" Barty's sure that it's supposed to come out as light and teasing, but your voice is quiet instead and you can't quite look at him anymore as you pluck at a stray thread on your ripped jeans. "Is it Evan? He'll be ok - he doesn't care about me, either."

"I'm worried about your feelings," he responds in a rushed sigh, and the comment makes your fidgeting fingers freeze. Your foot slips where it's propped up on the windowsill.

"I thought I was winning? Can't do that with my feelings hurt, can I?"

"You are winning." Barty reaches gentle fingers to wrap around your ankle, keeping you from slipping further off the ledge. "I'm just not sure this game is so good for you, that's all."

"I don't need a babysitter, babe," you snap back with a mocking tilt to your voice, and there's a bit more bite in your words than he deserves, probably. But Barty just tightens his grip on your ankle and stares.

"I'm trying to ask you the right question," he stresses, and the genuine waver in his voice has you pausing, twisting to put out your cigarette on the stone sill before you lean back against the glass and watch him.

"No you're not," you say quietly. He shifts, placing his hands on either side of your hips now as you spread your legs a bit to let him stand closer in front of you.

"I am," he insists gently, and a scrambling, desperate part of your brain pleads for some kind of sanctuary from his kindness - pleads to go back to before he showed you that he knew how to be gentle. "You're not letting me in."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you fuck around with me the way you fuck around with them?" And there it is, you think. And as soon as it's here, you wish you hadn't pushed for it. You wish he hadn't twisted the knife quite so far into your soul.

"Do you want me to? Hm?" It's a weak attempt, you both know, to gain some kind of control back from him. But Barty's crossed some kind of line, he knows, and he's never really learned how to back down from things like this.

"I want to know why you don't," he offers firmly, and you tilt your head to look past him into the busier part of the common room, the music rattling through people's drinks as smoke curls through the mass of students.

"Maybe you're just not worth it," you say lowly, and Barty huffs out an annoyed breath while he angles his head to look you in the eye again, trapping you in whatever it is that you're not admitting.

"Why don't you ever tell me the truth?"

"Why do you always let me get away with lying?" He's got an answer for that, you're sure. You're also sure that he's clenching his teeth together instead of telling you to spare you, just a bit. You feel a bit like a prey animal, caught between him and the window right now. You feel a bit like he's cracked your ribs open and can see the way that your heart beats in an off-kilter rhythm. 

You feel a bit like biting back - like telling him to fuck off and find someone else to whine to. But then he reaches to twirl a lock of your hair out of your face and you find yourself sighing in resignation, instead, slumping down just a bit against the cool glass.

"You're not worth it, Bart. You're worth a little bit more than all that. That's all it is."

"A little bit more, hm?" he pushes, and you roll your eyes in a vacant attempt to hide the way that your heart thumps at his voice - at the warbled little insecurity that twists somewhere almost unseen in him.

"You deserve something good," you offer haltingly. He scowls a bit at that - and you know his ticks and his movements enough to know it as an act of love.

"And you don't?"

"I have what I deserve - what I want, I mean." Your head's starting to hurt, you think, something about the music and the alcohol and Barty mixing together into some kind of oncoming illness - some kind of reason to run away.

"Why do you mess with people so much? Why can't you just - be honest, god, for fucking once." There's a bit of bite coming back to Barty's voice, and you can't help but perk up at it, recognizing this more than anything else.

"You're the only one who ever knows when I'm lying, you know," you say instead of answering, and Barty knows you well enough by now - knows your movements and your subtleties enough to know it as an act of surrender. 

"Of course I do," he sighs. "You're my…"

"Friend?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"Ouch," you say dryly. He shoots you a pleading look.

"I'm not this nice to my friends," he offers softly. You cock your head to the side.

"And I'm not this mean to mine." Barty hums a bit at that, leaning back on his heels as he lets his eyes sweep over your frame. 

"You're allowed to be, you know."

"What?"

"Kind," he says simply. You reach up to flick him on the forehead.

"Speak for yourself," you murmur, but he's staring at you like he's not sure how to let you get away this time. 

It's a shame, then, he thinks, when the party just beyond the two of you gets a bit too rowdy. It's a pity, really, when a fight breaks out - Evan and Regulus getting tangled up with a few loud Gryffindors. Barty swears that he sees the older Black brother mixed up in it, too, and pulls a hand away from the windowsill as he gets caught between helping or hurting. He sways on his feet a bit as he wonders whether to try to break up the fight or if he should just join in. 

Then he thinks that maybe… he understands a bit more what it is that you're not saying to him. 

"Better luck next time, Bart." It's your voice in his ear, then, that jerks him back, and he doesn't have time to appreciate the way that you've leaned up on your toes and wrapped your hand around his bicep to whisper in his ear. He doesn't have time to catch you or trap you again before you're slipping away into the fray, disappearing into some sweaty, dark corner of a party gone stale. 

One of the Gryffindors stumbles out of the fight, his round glasses askew and his dark curls tousled, and Barty rolls up his sleeves and sighs.

Oh well, he thinks as he grabs the older boy by the collar of his shirt. Better luck next time.

[aliceisaperson]

Me after doing yet another sims 4 Lautski photo shoot post and putting Pete in all the female poses so he’ll be shorter than Steph

[jackfrostimposter]

genuinely why is there so much misinformation about the guardians of childhood book series?

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Understandably So no one mentions charles when talking about the Logan movie and again Understandably So This Aint Bout Him however i do confess that as someone who had never seen Logan until like. a month ago when i was binging all the movies and without knowing a single thing about it aside from laura i cant lie i was in fact jumpscared by him being there. especially for at least like 3/4s of the movie

[cosmogyros]

Literally can't pay my rent until I get paid for September, which hasn't happened yet. Today is Friday, and Monday is the last day of the month. I'm so tired of being poor.

[deus-ex-mona]

man this getsuyoubi sure can yuuutsu

[apocalypticdemon]

baked food for the first time in.... probably almost a year. In 2.5 hours I made cookies, brownies, and muffins for myself. forgot that I still am pretty fuckin good at this. That's a decent pace imo. It wasn't a race but like... damn, it felt good to know i still got it.

also finally cleaned out my fridge, took out my trash, organized my laundry, put away clean clothes, and tidied most of the walkways in my house, and took care of the old dishes. baking dishes still need to be dealt with, but everything else is done.

turns out that stupid shit like "cleaning your house," "not living in filth," and "making and eating food instead of drinking meal replacement shakes" makes you feel better. wack

[voiceshearingyouloud]

Finally properly sobbing after not being able to cry all day is such a great feeling

[girl-bateman]

it sounds so obvious now, but im pretty sure my physical problems rn can all be traced back to the fact that my brain and body has been in a constant hypervigilance and cortisol overload for 3 months straight. the dizziness, the blackouts, the acne, the constant nausea, the giant eyebags and sudden crows feet ?? Like yeah, no shit thats what happens when ur every waking hour is the equivalent of that camille preaker crying gif

[cimeriansparrow]

My mom got mad at me this morning bc "I never talk to her," but every time we try to really talk, it turns into a massive fight (guess what happened 15 minutes ago)

I can't even ask questions without them eventually leading down a road where she keeps cutting me off and begins to yell at me. Obviously I'm taking a tone with you. Not only am I literally just speaking to you in the way that you speak to me, but being spoken down to for 22 years really teaches you that it doesn't matter How I speak to you, you won't ever Listen. Idk. I'm tired of living in a house where I can't even try to talk to my parents about the smaller stressors that I have.

Tried to bring up what's been going on the past few months bc she accused me of being depressed and lazy and. Yeah. I was depressed for 3 months. Thank you So much for noticing. It really speaks volumes to me that you didn't say anything about it while I was going through it?? I tried explaining that a new medication (that she knew I was taking!!! I told her when I switched to it!) Was causing me immense brain fog and seriously scary suicidal ideations that I did nearly act on.

And she got pissed and started yelling bc I never talk to her, and when I asked her to stop yelling she told me that she's gonna yell because she shouldn't be made to feel like this in her own house. She just went through a massive surgery and she's had to walk on eggshells around us when we should have been taking care of her (which we did. And it fucking tears me apart that she doesn't realize how much of my own life I've given up already to make sure she's been taken care of) and she's done with tiptoeing around all of us and she just kept going and going and going and going and going because she doesn't actually ever know when to fucking stop.

No shit we don't talk. Every single time I try to talk with you it ends up like this. With me trying to calm down after stepping away after you've accused me of some wild shit and when I come back to try to talk normally you're still yelling. In fact, you're more incensed than before.

For some reason she thinks adhd medication will fix everything. Like it's some sort of cure all and I don't have a decent handle on it. And every time I bring up that I've done some research and I feel like I might be on the autism spectrum she tells me that's stupid and people are making a trend of it and that's why I feel that way and I shouldn't think that because none of us (myself and two younger sisters) are autistic.

If none of this makes any sense to anyone reading, know that that's how Every Single conversation with her goes. If she's not in a good mood she's going to bring you down to her level of emotion. She will make it about her through the stupidest methods possible, and after being emotionally manipulated like that my entire life it's hard to see exactly what's going on because she comes at you so fast.