#i just really love all the members new and old

[caelcstis]

gods will always remember how obsessed i was when i found knk (and still listen to them even with the loss of the majority of the members, i hear they're getting a new boy too) and how much i loved seoham's stupid lil laughs and how much of a big bully (in the most gentlest and platonic, big brother way possible) and a baby he was to the other members and everyone just let him despite he was the second eldest and eventually the eldest before leaving. he was just the member that sucked me into that group so badly, always watched their knk tv's. he will always be my precious meow meow even after five years and two?? three years?? of the group being stagnant and him leaving to pursue acting instead

[magstorrn]

every few years im reminded that the war of the worlds stage show exists which is never good because i always find something new to hate about it

[lupismaris]

Lmao okay okay white cishet social manager has now been added to the DEI Pride planning meetings which frankly is important to ensure shit is done right I’m attending as the multi-tool queer of the division and comms administrator/quartermaster who’s main role is holding the comms team accountable (my supervisors/head of comms words not mine) so my goal of making sure our Pride and LGBTQIA+ history month campaigns aren’t reductive capitalist rainbow washed nonsense is still a go

[etherealcockring]

Idk if y’all play gacha games (we probably shouldn’t most of them are greedy but I can’t resist this cute nsfw wolf boy so here we are lol) but um look at my boy.

He’s so cute and precious and I hope I can get his new unit within 200 rolls. Cause that’s all I got and I need to collect every garu ever.

[loveanddeepdick]

nerd!choso who is so unknown at school that people go, “who?” when he’s mentioned. you’re pretty sure that only five people knew who he even was.

nerd!choso who is most definitely the president of some club like chess or dead poets society. he saw you at the club fair and fell in love

he thinks he went to heaven when you approach his table at club rush. yuji, although not in chess, was helping choso recruit people since his poor brother was too shy to talk to anyone. you go up to your friend yuji, making small talk with him.

“i’ve never played chess, yuji”, you giggled

“my brother can teach you!”

you glanced over at choso, not even noticing him at first. he was.. pretty. not pretty as in a way your friends would giggle at you when they saw you in a new outfit, not pretty as in the comments you got under your instagram post, but he was a natural beauty.

yuji had to snap you out of it. of course he noticed though, the way you two looked at each other.

nerd!choso who teaches you how to play chess, not letting the two other members of the small club play with you.

nerd!choso who helps you study, helps you carry textbooks, and helps you with midterms and any exams you have.

nerd!choso who has a nosebleed when you give him a small peck on the cheek when he finally confesses to you after months of pining for you.

you two had been studying in his dorm, comfortable with each other as your head was leaning against his shoulder as you two relished in each other’s presence.

“i like you.”

“oh! i like you t—“

“no. i like you.”

you turn to him. a small smile creeping onto your face. you didn’t say anything, only pressing a short kiss on his cheek. he immediately freezes up, his hands turning clammy and sweaty.

“i—uh..”

then, a trickle of blood comes from his nose, dripping onto his cupid’s bow.

“oh my god, cho!”, you gasped as you jump up, running to grab a tissue from his nightstand where he also kept a picture of you two and a bottle of lotion

you leaned in, wiping his nose attentively. as you chide and nurse him while mumbling, choso can’t help but stare down to take a peep at your tank top. he could see the valley of your boobs and the top of your bra. he choked, letting out a startled gasp before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

he knocked out cold on the spot

nerd!choso who keeps a special picture of you in his wallet. he’ll be at his chess club meetings, at lectures, out with his family, and he keeps a hand on his wallet, knowing you’re in there.

the picture was a polaroid he took with your camera, your eyes were just out of frame but he could see a portion of your fucked out face, his cum dripping from your mouth and splattered on your cheeks. you were completely naked and sprawled out on his bed in his childhood home

it was almost funny how a hot goddess of a girl was naked, covered in his cum, and sprawled out, pussy on display on his old lego ninjago bedsheets.

nerd!choso who dedicates every single one of his orgasms to you. if you were with him, he’d find a way to cum inside you. in your mouth or your pussy, he’s find a way inside. of course, he’d also opt for cumming on your tits or on your face, he wasn’t greedy. but what he really wants, is to cum inside your cute little ass! he’s too shy to ask, of course, but the day would come eventually

if you weren’t here though, he’d pull up his personal secret album for you, filled photos and videos with shots of under your skirt, through the crack of your bedroom, from your window, when you just walking around with a tank top. he loved it all.

but his favorites were videos you’d allowed him to take while he was fucking you from the back or in missionary. he loved watching them on repeat, never getting bored of them. after a while, he gained the courage to show you as well.

you checked your phone to see a notification from your boyfriend and gasped when you opened it.

it was an image of the picture he kept of you beside his bed, covered in his semen. in the corner of the photo was his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

‘i miss you 🖤’

[girlfictions]

something i’ve been thinking about lately is like. growing up muslim right after 9/11 is something i’d never really reflected on much because it was all i’d ever known — at 5, my friend’s mum didn’t let her invite me to her birthday party because i was the only brown girl in our class, at 12, my classmates would joke about my family being part of isis, at 16, my dad was interrogated by american airport security for hours — and it always stung and it always hurt but it was just the way things were because the western world hated muslims. but i don’t think i’ve ever fully comprehended the extent to which we were hated until now.

palestine is being turned into a mass graveyard. every single day there are new photos of the atrocities being carried out against them and videos of them pleading for help and still those who can actually intervene turn a blind eye. israel is claiming to only be targeting hamas “terrorists” while bombing a refugee camp. israeli police raided and assaulted a non-zionist jewish neighbourhood. israeli soldiers are posting tiktoks of them torturing captured palestinians. this is not a complicated issue and it never has been. ethnic cleansing is being committed right in front of us. and yet the western world leaders refuse to call for a ceasefire.

and while zionist organisations accuse pro-palestine demonstrations of anti-semitism, while zionist celebrities insist that they’re afraid to leave their mansions in los angeles, a six year old muslim boy was stabbed to death and his mother wounded in the same attack in chicago. a muslim doctor was murdered while sitting outside her apartment complex in texas. hundreds of peaceful protesters have been arrested (many of whom have been jewish). despite what zionists want you to believe, this is not a jewish/muslim conflict. i have so much love and gratitude to my brave jewish brothers and sisters all over the world who are condemning israel for their actions.

ultimately, israel have been granted impunity by the west. they have slaughtered thousands upon thousands of innocent palestinians. they have bombed hospitals and schools indiscriminately. they have used white phosphorus, violating the geneva convention. they have completely eradicated nearly 900 bloodlines. how many more need to be wiped out? how many more children need to be buried underneath the rubble? how many more doctors need to be confronted with the bodies of their own family members? how many more journalists need to detail the horrific acts of violence they are witnessing? what more can be done to the palestinian people that has not been done already?

i truly believe that palestine will be free one day. i believe the palestinian people will receive the justice they finally deserve. but what breaks my heart is how much they have suffered and will continue to suffer before they are deemed worthy of help. and it would be to all of our detriment if we ignored how much of a factor palestine being a predominantly muslim state has played into the way the world has reacted to their genocide.

[logansdoll]

professor

the students are excited to have their old biology teacher back, but you can't be that great... right?

CW: fluffy fluff, the events of Last Stand didn't happen, Logan being Logan, reader is a chlorokinetic (controls plants), love at first sight, Logan's down bad off rip

It was a couple months back when word of your return began buzzing around the mansion.

No one knew where the rumor started, or who started it, but the day wasn't even half over before the entire student body was obsessed.

Whispers muttered during class, lunchtime gossip chains, study group pow-wows.

Many couldn't believe it.

You? Come back?

No way.

Some could've sworn you were supposed to be gone for at least a few more years.

Others thought you weren't supposed to come back at all.

And a small few even believed that your arrival could come as soon as the following month.

But after a week or so of no follow up, eventually, the rumor was put to rest, interest diverted to the next, newest gossip on campus.

...

That is... until the story came out.

Apparently, one of the students—who seemed to have some sort of super-hearing—eavesdropped on a conversation between Scott and Charles, and found out you would, in fact, be returning to the school and your position as the biology teacher.

And that was all the students needed to go absolutely berserk.

It wasn't even a full twenty-four hours later before the first meeting of your welcoming committee was held, the new club already having about twenty-five members.

While they began making preparations and to-do lists for your arrival, another group began going out to your garden on the weekends, trimming the overgrown weeds and planting new flowers in their place, caring for them in the meantime.

Some students even started straightening up your old classroom, cleaning the clouded glass of the greenhouse and redecorating with your favorite blooms.

And, of course, Logan had to return from one of his trips right in the middle of it.

Now, at first, he didn't really give a shit.

But out of curiosity, he asked Rogue what all the commotion was about—especially after some kid ran past him with a trolley full of potting soil—and what he gathered was that you were some professor who left about a year ago to teach abroad.

Apparently, you were nearly every kid's favorite teacher, your fun and interactive lessons, along with your genuinely kind and caring personality, touching the hearts of damn near the entire student body.

Even kids who had never met you before were chipping in, helping out those who needed a little extra manpower.

It was almost unbelievable.

'If this chick doesn't show up, Charles is gonna have a nuclear war on his hands...'

"Guys!" Kitty shouted, running straight through the front door and into the foyer. "I think her car just pulled up!"

The following stampede could've ranked as a 9.0 on the Richter scale.

It was eight in the morning on a Saturday, and half the kids were still in their pajamas, but they all moved with lightning speed, grabbing their signs and noise-makers before running down the stairs.

A boy with super speed sprinted to the lower level dorms and woke everyone else, while a girl with the ability to stretch hung up a welcome banner over the archway.

"Hurry! She's walking up!" Kitty reported, her head halfway through a window.

Quickly, the students formed a crowd at the door, the teachers slowly descending the stairs to join them.

"Mmm. She's here already?" Jean yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she landed on the final step, hand in hand with Scott.

"Still as punctual as ever," he smiled.

"I'll say," Ororo grinned, crossing her robe over her chest, "She wasn't supposed to show up for another week."

Logan was less amused.

No one should have that much energy on a weekend.

Even still, he quietly settled himself off to the side, leaning up against a wall while the others joined the crowd.

'You wouldn't get this kinda reception if the President was the one coming...'

"Y'know..." Ororo started, seemingly out of nowhere, as she joined him on the wall. "I think you'll like her... she's just your type."

He turned to her, raising a brow, "Is she, now?"

Despite his playful tone, he wasn't entertaining the idea in the slightest.

All that true love-soulmate bullshit didn't exist for men like him.

He was 136, going on 137, and had loved and lost enough times to realize that at the end of the day, he'd outlive her.

So why bother?

His life would be one he forever walked alone—a fact he was slowly coming to terms with.

Or at least he thought he was.

Because as you walked through the threshold before him, flashing a heart-stopping grin, he felt all that shit go flying out his head.

You were absolutely beautiful.

And you'd think after 200 years he'd learn...

"Surprise!" the children cheered, proudly holding up their signs and tossing confetti into the air. "Welcome home!"

You gasped, dropping your bags and covering your mouth in shock as you admired the homemade decorations.

"Kids, you shouldn't have!" you smiled brighter than the sun, letting out a small laugh as they all rushed you for a group hug.

And, of course, you were happy to oblige.

"It's good to see you, (y/n)," Scott greeted, he and Jean walking over.

(y/n).

The name sounded like honey on his tongue.

"Logan," Ororo smirked, elbowing her friend in the rib. "You're drooling."

The man cleared his throat, closing his mouth and averting his eyes so they couldn't embarrass him any further.

"Some of you have gotten so big since we last met!" you cheesed, pulling back to examine each of them. "And I see some new faces, too..."

But, against his will, Logan's gaze trailed back to you, Jean's speech going in one ear and out the other.

And when it landed on your face again, he realized he wasn't the only one staring.

Your soft, (e/c) eyes were trained on him as well, their flicker of curiosity and awe completely contrasting your composed demeanor.

It made him feel hot, being subject to your gaze, and he could feel himself thoughtlessly straightening his posture, making himself appear taller, and slightly larger.

You let out a silent laugh, discreetly bringing a hand to your lips to cover it, but not before letting the man get a peak of your smile once more.

Fuck, that smile.

"Can you two quit eye-fucking? It's gross," Scott groaned, joining the two on the wall.

Logan ignored him, looking toward you with a small smirk.

Something about you gave him a good feeling... like things would be different.

Maybe love could exist for him after all...

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining being nervous around the 141 and yet STILL garnering their attention.

Like, you've done everything in your power NOT to get noticed. You're as happy as a clam to work on all the behind the scenes issues. You don't even go out on the field!

You're the one to get gear in place, you're the one talking to Nik and supervising the equipment repairs. You make sure the armory is stocked and that the showers aren't running with rusty water.

You really DON'T want any eyes on you.

You just want to do your job and do it in fucking peace.

So why the hell are they always wanting your attention?

-

"There she is. Keepin' everything in order while 'm gone." Price chuckles, placing a hand on your back as he passes through the armory's narrow shelves. "Looking to take my spot as Captain hm, Love?"

You bury your face into your clipboard, trying desperately to ignore him. He's not going away but God do you want him to. His presence is always so overwhelming and his gaze so pointed. If you could shrink into nothingness you'd try.

-

"Oi, Bonnie!" Soap calls out to you at mess. He waves his arms wildly, making everyone look his way. "C'mere! Sit w' us today!"

He's so loud his voice echoes across the cafeteria. Recruits and lower ranking members shrink at the sound of it. So do you, even though you can hear only excitement in his tone instead of the usual ire he employs while training the rookies.

You know that if you decide to sit with your friends you'll never hear the end of it. But if you choose to sit with him and the rest of the all star task force you'll be under their gazes for the better part of the morning. You want to just drop your lunch tray and run out, but on unsteady legs and a bowed head you shuffle to the table.

-

"Well well, look who it is." Gaz huffs, looking up from his terminal set up in the surveillance room. "Thanks for packing those extra headset chords for me."

"Uh...yeah, no problem." You nod, trying to ignore him while simultaneously digging in an old box full of wires.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

"Uh...a mouse. A wireless one."

"Here, take mine." He smiles, unplugging the tiny chip from the side of his laptop. "Need a new one anyway."

"It's alright I-"

"Just take it. You deserve it more than me." He hums, looking away wistfully. "If it weren't for those extra cords we wouldn't 'ave been able to call for evac on that last mission."

You take the mouse into your palm, feeling uneasy. Something about his demeanor isn't right. Gaz is always confident and sure. But the way he glances at you before he turns back to the computer makes you worried.

Is he...jealous?

You slip out of the door and close it behind you without making a sound.

-

"Need t' put a bell on you." Ghost grumbles. "Can't hear you n' those."

You stop midway down the hallway, confused and nervous.

You look down at your old, beat up reg boots from your PT days. They were definitely in need for a decommissioning, but they were comfy despite the fact that the soles had no tread anymore.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." You awkwardly mumble. "Need new ones."

"No."

You raise a brow at him. It was just the two of you in one of the maintenance hallways which was, ironically enough, poorly maintained. The overhead fluorescents flickered and made it hard to focus.

"Keep 'em." He nods, turning away and showing you the full breadth of his back. He mutters at you as while he keeps walking on.

"Keeps you under the radar."

[5sospenguinqueen]

Princess Party | Lando Norris x Best Friend! Reader

Summary: Lando enjoys participating in all night life has to offer, particularly with his best friend. When Y/N falls pregnant after one drunken night, he panics. After all, why should he trade a club party for a princess party?

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. Loss of friendship. Pregnancy. Lando is not great in this.

Blonde female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

Main Masterlist

next.

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YourUserName just posted

liked by mclaren, lnfour and others

YourUserName a podium for my favourite boy 🍾🧡#AustralianGP tagged: landonorris

5,778 comments

YourUserName and another huge well done to my other papaya pookie @ oscarpiastri for p4 🥳

→ oscarpiastri i thought we agreed you’d stop calling me that

→ YourUserName WE agreed to nothing

→ landonorris um i should be your only papaya pookie

→ oscarpiastri disrespected in my home town

georgerussell63 excuse me, why don’t you make posts like this about me

→ YourUserName when was the last time you were on a podium

→ alex_albon hahaha

→ georgerussell63 @ alex_albon hey, i’m closer than you are

→ YourUserName now, now, children, behave

User1 is this his girlfriend?

→ User2 no, just his childhood friend. she comes to most races to support him as she’s been there since his karting days

→ User3 and she’s really close with the the grid, but particularly the 2019 rookies

danielricciardo well done, mate. well deserved

carlossainz55 always nice to share a podium with you

User4 i'm sorry but i can’t believe her and lando are just friends when she takes the most boyfriend-coded pictures of him

mclaren petition to hire y/n as lando’s full time photographer

→ alex_albon no, because i need her to be mine considering she actually managed to make lando look good

liked by YourUserName

→ landonorris oi!

YourUserName posted a new story

landonorris posted a new story

maxverstappen1 posted a new story

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User5 i KNEW they were more than friends

User6 oh so now she realises her ‘feelings’, now that he’s winning trophies

→ User7 bitch she’s been by his side since baby karting days

User8 you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me (the asylum being tricked into thinking y/n and lando were nothing more than friends)

User9 not max deleting his story after waking up and realising the consequences of his drunken actions

User10 y/nlando shippers rise! we’ve been waiting YEARS for this day to come

User11 what a gross invasion of privacy from that staff member. i hope they find out who it was and fire them

alex_albon @ LandoNorris awfully cryptic of you

danielricciardo @ LandoNorris how are you still alive

→ LandoNorris ‘cause I’m not old like you

User12 @ LandoNorris mr norris, tell us what you did

→ georgerussell63 more like who

(this comment has been deleted)

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A month later

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User1 looks like she removed everyone she didn’t personally know and made her insta private

User2 lando no longer follows her either

User3 what is going on in the house of commons

User4 maybe they truly weren’t dating but sleeping together screwed up their friendship

User5 looks like the rest of the grid still follow her tho?

→ User6 guys guys. GR63 isn’t following lando anymore either?!

→ User7 at least we know which side he picked in the divorce

→ User8 i'm worried this means lando did something wrong because whilst i love him, i can’t look past him screwing up their friendship just because he was thinking with his dick

User9 good, she wasn’t good enough for him anyway

→ User10 relax, he’s not going to shag you

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YourUserName just posted

liked by zbrownceo, flonorris and others

YourUserName me and you against the world. little bean coming soon tagged: yoursister

1,200 comments

YourUserName i think aunty @ yoursister might be more excited to meet you

francisca.cgomes can’t wait to meet little y/l/n

georgerussell63 me and carmen are so excited. She’s buying baby clothes already

lilymhe i call godmother

→ francisca.cgomes nuh uh

→ alex_albon get in line

→ yoursister we all know i win this battle

→ georgerussell63 whoa whoa whoa, back off, you already get aunt

charles_leclerc so excited for you, y/n/n

carlossainz55 congratulations

danielricciardo heck yeah! i can’t wait to meet the bean

maxverstappen1 do i see a red bull onesie in the baby’s future?

→ charles_leclerc try a ferrari one

→ alex_albon we all know it’ll be williams

→ oscarpiastri racing baby!

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Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @elijahslover @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @reguluscrystals

[vividxpages]

｡° ✮୨ৎ "lay it all on me"୨ৎ✮° ｡

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 2100

summary: With the Queen and your betrothed Jacaerys’ delayed arrival, you are left in charge of the day’s council meeting. When one of the lords starts to speak of a possible bedding ceremony for your upcoming wedding, your thoughts begin to spiral badly…

warnings: the lords in Rhaenyra’s council being perverts and dicks, talks of misogynistic traditions and predatory behavior of men, sexism and misogyny, panic attacks, Jacaerys being a protective betrothed, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, crying, hopeful ending

a/n: I cooked this up so quickly, but I was very inspired yesterday - thank you so much to the anon who sparked a conversation about bedding ceremonies in my asks and with it, my inspiration for this idea! <3 this is for you :*

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

When the messenger arrived at the council room and announced the delayed arrival of the Queen and her son, you had been optimistic for a moment.

Jacaerys and you, a team ever since your shared childhood and since recently betrothed with the blessings of his mother and family, had led council meetings like this together before and you were no stranger to the strategies and logistics of the war and Rhaenyra’s efforts in it. You just had not done it by yourself before.

You nodded in thanks to the messenger and turned back to the assembly of Rhaenyra’s lords around the table with a polite smile. It was only a matter of time until her and Jace would make their return from the dragon’s caves and until then, you’d do your best to begin today’s conversation.

“Well then, my lords.” You nodded to yourself and took a deep breath, looking into the round with openness. “I believe we’ll continue where we’ve left off yesterday? Is there any news yet of Daemon’s stay at Harrenhal? We could-“

“There is another matter of importance we thought we could discuss with you, my princess.” One of the lords interrupted you, a cool smile on his face as you leaned back in your seat. You cocked an eyebrow at him to continue despite your sentence being left unfinished. “Since the wedding with the prince Jacaerys will occur in the upcoming months, it would be wise to discuss the bedding ceremony sooner rather than later.”

Something in you went very, very still.

You blinked at him before you looked into the other men’s faces. They seemed to be in agreement of this rapid topic change. “The…bedding ceremony?”

“Yes, it is of grand importance to ensure the consummation of marriage between two newly-weds.” He explained to you, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his old mouth. “It’s an old tradition and the lords and I believe it is best to follow it with the young and lovely union of the prince and you.”

You swallowed against the dryness in your throat, your hands suddenly clammy with unsureness. “I have not talked to Jace about such a thing. The Queen hasn’t spoken to me about it either. That’s…-What if me and Jacaerys are against it?”

A few of them chuckled as if you had made a good jest.

“My princess, is it not really a matter of choice, if you understand.” One of them explained to you before he suddenly turned away from you and addressed the others: “The wedding will be held here at Dragonstone as we know and I thought of a crowd of perhaps a dozen, mostly members of the family and this council, of course. After the celebrations, the prince will lead his bride away in the company of the Queen’s loyal and trusted advisors and then, the marriage will be consummated in a room large enough for the ceremony.”

You opened your mouth to object, but found your voice had simply vanished.

“Will there be sheets as proof in the morning?”

“I would actively support it.”

“There are clothes here at Dragonstone suited for such a ceremony, I am sure we will have them before the wedding takes place.”

“A purity test accomplished by a maester might be sufficient beforehand as well-“

You felt yourself drifting away from the conversation, one that circled around you and yet did not include you at all. Staring at the table in front of you, you felt your breath quicken as a distant howl swept through your mind, drowning out their voices as they went on and on.

In your mind, you saw yourself being led into a fully lit room. The dress you wore was thin and barely hiding your body, your arms protectively crossed in front of yourself as you shivered. The bed chamber was crowded all the way back to the tapestry of the walls with men regarding you coolly. Their hunger for the curves barely hidden underneath your dress was evident in their eyes, yet you had to walk on until you reached the middle of the room. Jacaerys was waiting, his own expression blank and without any emotion for you as he took your hand and led you to bed. There were a thousand eyes on you and you felt numb, your body screaming in protest, your mind begging you to shout at them to leave as Jace mechanically began to kiss your neck-

The wide doors of the hall opened and the men seated around you abruptly stood, their wrinkly hands brushing over their attires. The Queen was here.

You remained in your seat, your mind having drawn itself back to a hidden part in yourself, blankly staring at the fidgeting hands in your lap. When you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, the touch so familiar it could’ve been your own, you closed your eyes for just a moment. Jacaerys had come with her.

“What is going on?” Rhaenyra demanded to know, walking around the big table as she took in your uncharacteristic quiet state.

When your betrothed raised your hand to his lips in greeting, you looked up and bit your lip at Jace’s worried expression. The taste of iron coated your lips and only now you realized you had bitten your lip so badly, it had started to bleed. The pain was almost a relief.

“Are you alright?” Jace murmured, his hand delicately cupping your cheek and making you shudder. Your eyes were glassy, your cheeks red from shame and suddenly, a strong urge to cry shot through you, so intense you barely could fight it. “What is it, my love?”

You shook your head, avoiding his searching gaze.

The shame burned hotly through you and you wanted to shrink into your seat until you could escape these old devils. One of them, who had started this whole discussion about the ceremony in the first place, cleared his throat. “Your Grace, we were discussing possible arrangements for the wedding of the prince and his betrothed. There have been no mentions of the traditional bedding ceremony yet and the lords and myself were worried that-“

Rhaenyra frowned with a disgusted curl of her lips. “A bedding ceremony? There hasn’t been a tradition like this in my generation. Why would we burden the next with such an old piece of the past?”

You could sense Jace tensing beside you, his face dark as he stared at the lord. Would he look at you like this too, when the happiest day of your life would end with having to sleep with each other in front of dozens? Your chest hurt as you struggled to breathe normally.

“The princess has expressed similar concerns, but there are ways…There could be a thin veil draped over the sides of the bed.” Another suggested generously and you felt your stomach turn itself over. “Of course, it cannot shield the pair fully from the observer’s eyes. They have to be in sight, so it can be assured that she’s-“

“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Jace cut him off, close to snarling as he flexed his hand on the hilt of his sword. He remained by your side, his stance protective of you and intimidating. “Neither my mother or myself have been consulted about this before and the fact that you’ve preyed on an opportunity to bring it up in front of the princess is close to treason. And yet you’ve dared to speak of such inappropriate matters in front of my betrothed, your future Queen? I could have you hanged by the cliffs of Dragonstone for such perverted behavior.”

“My prince, with all respect, it simply is tradition. It has to be guaranteed that on the night of her wedding, the bride is a maiden-“

The sound of your chair screeching over the floor broke through the room as you stood up. The sound of your own breath was too loud in your eyes, the lump in your throat only growing by the second. “If you would excuse me, Your Grace, I’m not feeling well.”

Jacaerys stood with you, but as he reached for your hand, you had already slipped away and quickly made your escape towards the wide doors, trying to breathe against the numbing panic in your lungs.

You blindly walked down the long corridor, ignoring the questioning looks of the guards standing on the sides. Would they be there as well, to witness yours and Jace’s union, eyes on your naked body when Jace had to deflower you in front of an audience?

You choked on a sob, the tears running freely down your cheeks now, the pain in your chest only expanding from keeping it inside for so long. You had never experienced a panic like this before, a powerful tide washing all rational thoughts away and sending your brain into overdrive.

Behind you, quick footsteps were approaching and before you knew it, Jacaerys had overtaken you and blocked your path, taking your upset state in with wide eyes. Your bottom lip wobbled dangerously and you came to a halt, noting how far and fast you had walked away from the council room.

“My love…” Jacaerys mumbled quietly and stepped closer and somewhere inside of you, a dam burst and he caught you as you fell into his arms, your body wrecked with heartbreaking and breathless sobs. He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you against his chest and letting you cry, his own heart aching at the stress vibrating through your body.

“I don’t want them to see…” You sniffled miserably against his shoulder, his arms tightening protectively around your waist, one of his hands resting on the back of your head and stroking your hair. “I want our wedding night to be ours, I don’t want them in the room with us, I don’t want any of it.”

“I’m not going to allow it.” He assured you calmly, suppressing his own anger for the sake of your peace of mind. Later, he’d had time to rage and forge the feeling into action, but now the only thing that mattered was you. “They have no right to make these rules for us. You and I decide, together, okay?”

You nodded, your anxiety slowly beginning to ebb away and leaving the council room and its members behind you.

“I am so sorry I was not there with you.” Jacaerys regretfully whispered against your temple, soothingly stroking your back as you rested your tear-streaked face against his neck. “I am not going to let this slide. And I am serious, my love, I promise you; there will be no bedding ceremony, I’m not going to let them expose you like this.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes still shimmering with worried tears. “And what if we have to? I can’t do this, Jace, I would rather die-“

He gently shushed you and gently rested his forehead against yours, willing you to take big and deep breaths with him until you were breathing in sync and your shivering stopped. “We don’t have to do anything. You and I, we’ll be king and queen someday and I will not accept any disrespect towards you, not today or when we’re married, alright?”

You nodded slowly, exhaling deeply as you allowed yourself to sink against him, letting yourself be held and gently swayed from side to side. Slowly but surely, your heart stopped hurting and the clouds in your mind dissolved until you only felt him.

“Alright.” You whispered back after a while and his lips on yours, featherlight and oh so gently, were a relief after such moments of stress. When you separated and looked into each other’s eyes, you added quietly: “I want this, with you. All of it. I want our first time together to be special and a memory we’ll cherish forever.”

“And it will be, I promise.” He soothed you. “These old pathetic men will do good to remember their place before I’ll unleash Vermax on them.” He added jokingly and even managed to make you giggle a little bit at the mental image. “You know how Vermax adores you, he’ll eat them in one piece and spit them out, because they’re disgusting.”

You snorted tiredly and nuzzled his neck in affection, not ready to separate yourself from him just yet.

“My mother will deal with them.” Jace promised you darkly, a revengeful shimmer in his fierce eyes as he wiped the last of your tears away with his thumb. “And when she’s done with them, I will make sure as well they’ll remember who they answer to, my queen.”

He would deal with this.

And after he had put those foul men in their place, he’d make sure you’d be the happiest you could be and your wedding would be perfect and just the way the two of you had imagined for so long…

my taglist: @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[jayietheriverwarrior]

Okay. Okay. I’m rewatching ATLA and I just hit The Runaway and… new headcanon.

After the war, Toph pulls Aang, Suki, and Zuko aside and explains the whole “Sokka can’t remember what their mom looks like” thing and says she wants to do something about it, for both Sokka and Katara. So they put together a plan. They get Hakoda, Gran Gran, and any other Water Tribe members old enough to remember Kya to give them as detailed a description of her as possible, then with Zuko’s financial help they hire a top-notch portrait maker to put it all together.

Sokka and Katara aren’t suspicious when Zuko approaches them about having them sit for a portrait together - they helped save the world, they have quite a bit of fame and political attention now, makes sense to kind of capture them how they looked when they first defeated the Fire Lord for posterity. But with both of them sitting for the portrait for reference, and with the information from the Water Tribe describing her to work from, the artist is able to put together a damn good recreation of Kya. And when Sokka and Katara finally get to see the finished product r and realize what the artist was really working on, and what their friends did for them… Katara of course bursts into tears, both sad and happy, grief for her mother and joy to see her face so clearly again after so long, and full of love for the friends who went to so much effort to give her this.

But all Sokka can do is stare at the portrait. For so long, his image of his mother has grown murkier and less distinct in his mind. For so long, when he’s tried to picture his mom, all he could see was Katara, because it was Katara who stepped up and took on that role, Katara who made sure everyone stayed together and kept them feeling like a family. But now, he looks at this portrait of his mother, smiling and warm and alive in a way that she hadn’t been in his mind in so long, and instead of Katara in her face, he sees himself.

[imaginaryf1shots]

Soulmate | Oscar Piastri Ver.

WC: 4.9K

Oscar x soulmate!reader

Summery: You live in a world where you hear your soulmate’s thoughts.

Warning: jealousy, curse words?

Masterlist

Oscar Masterlist

Max Ver. , Lewis Ver. , Charles Ver.

You live in a world where soulmates could communicate through thoughts, it was both a blessing and a curse. After you meet your soulmate it’s definitely a blessing but before that you just get random thoughts through your mind, you can’t control what your soulmate hears and don’t know what they do and what they don’t. And the way to start controlling it, is kissing. Yes, sharing a soulmate kiss is the way to be able to control your thoughts. You’re not responsible. It’s like getting to know someone so deeply and fully but not really. No way of getting to them, you just have a few pieces of the puzzle and you have to put it together without the picture on the box.

The first time you heard his voice in your mind, you were ten years old. It was a simple thought, something about the sky being unusually grey, and it had felt like an echo of your own thoughts. You had no idea what was happening, even if it was described to you before, it still felt new and weird. But you couldn't deny the connection, it was like hearing your own thoughts, like the voice is a part of you.

As the years passed, the voice remained a constant companion. It was both thrilling and confusing to hear snippets of thoughts from someone you had never met, but know so well. His voice was calm, collected and often tinged with an air of judgments. His thoughts were never directed towards you, just his musings and reflection that drifted into your consciousness. One of the things you heard from your soulmate and helped shape your life, is his love for karting, you knew he loved racing, and so you have taken to watching motorsport, NASCAR, IndyCar, MotoGP and Formula1 to name a few. It fills your life, keeping up with these sports. But you enjoyed them all the same, your major in university was in athletic training and exercise science.

Loving sports and how athletes train and work hard for their sport has been a passion of yours. You heard your soulmate train many times, how much he struggled but preserved, and that made you want to pursue working with athletes even more. Since you've been an avid Motorsport watcher for years, you sent in your resume to all the sports' emails, all the teams in all of the different sports. And you heard back from F1 Academy, they would have you in as a trainer for Bianca, whose under McLaren, her trainer was leaving soon and she needed a new one, and that gave you the opportunity to train with them for a bit before you would take the role of her trainer.

The F1 paddock was a love with the hum of engines and the chatter of team members preparing for the day's practice sessions.

"Stay focused on your lines, Bianca, remember, it's all about consistency." You said, patting her on the back as she adjusted her helmet.

"I will, thanks." She smiled before heading to her car.

As you turned to head back to the F1 Academy McLaren garage, a stray thought intruded into your mind, clear and distinct.

’Another long day ahead. Hope we can nail the set up this time.’ You paused, momentarily disoriented. This wasn't unusual; on race days you'd hear things related to racing, and as off the last year you had a feeling that your soulmate was in the Formula serious, and more likely in Formula 1, that helped narrow down your search from the 7 billion people in the world to just the ones working in Formula series and then it narrowed it down to drivers, since he's been karting and then racing since you could hear his thoughts. You glanced around and spotted Lando Norris, laughing and chatting animatedly with a group of engineers, he's here to watch the academy race. Could it be? Lando was always so lively and easy going, it made sense that it could be him and he’s one of the single drivers without a soulmate.

After the academy race you and Bianca made it to the formula 1 Mclaren garage, and with a new sense of curiosity, you approached the garage where Oscar was standing, reviewing data on a tablet. Oscar was known for his calm and quiet demeanour and intense focus. He barely spoke, but his racing skills spoke volumes.

'Great, another adjustment, just what we need.'

You chuckled as another thought invaded your mind. softly, convinced more and more that it's Lando with each new thought. The thoughts matched Lando's personality.

"Morning, Oscar." You greeted the driver warmly.

"Morning." He looked up briefly, giving you a polite nod, his face was as unreadable as ever.

'why so serious all the time!’

The thought drifted to your mind and you couldn't help but agree. Oscar's stoic exterior was such a stark contrast to the thoughts you thought were coming from Lando. As the day went on, you found yourself listening more intently, trying to piece together the puzzle of your soulmate's identity. Each time you heard a thought you looked towards Lando, watching his animated gestures and easy smile. It all seemed to fit.

Meanwhile, Oscar worked quietly in the background, his thoughts a constant, subtle presence.

'I need to improve my lap times, focus.’ He was always focused, always pushing himself.

Weeks went by, and the thoughts in your mind continued to shape your perception of Lando as your soulmate. You somehow convinced yourself that his easy going nature and frequent thoughts aligned perfectly, but there's always that little bit of doubt in the back of your mind that kept you from talking to Lando about him being your possible soulmate.

One afternoon you were busy in the paddock working with Bianca on her fitness routine. After doing a grid jog with her, you went through a gruelling set of exercises.

'she works so hard, I wish I could tell her how much I admire her dedication.’

You smile, thinking that Lando was admiring Bianca's progress.

"Lando's such a nice guy, don't you think?" You commented to Bianca, who was catching her breath after the last exercise. Bianca looked up from her spot and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, he's nice, but why bring him up now?" You shrugged brushing it

off.

"Just a thought." As both you and Bianca walked back to the McLaren motorhome, you saw Lando talking with some of the team, joking and laughing with them, you felt something warm in you. You smiled thinking it's your connection with Lando, looking around the room you spotted Oscar watching you, and as always an unreadable expression on his face.

At one point the team decided to book a restaurant and invited everyone out for a bonding dinner, and you found yourself sitting next to Lando, who you spent the night speaking and laughing with. He was as lively and as charming as ever.

"You know, I've been thinking about soulmates a lot lately." Lando said casually, taking a sip from his drink. "It's strange how we can hear their thoughts, but it's not always clear who they are."

"Tell me about it." You replied, laughing. "It's like you're trying to sort the puzzle pieces and put them in place."

‘I’ve done it.’

This thought came through more seriously than the rest. You glanced at Lando and he was making a joke with the person next to him, the thought didn't fit the mood he's in but you brushed it off. As the night went on and you and Lando shared stories and got closer to each other, Oscar observed the both of you. He knew. But as frustrated as he was, he kept it all in, his exterior calm and collected. However Oscar's patience was wearing thin, he knew you were his soulmate. It took him a while to figure it out, but your thoughts just fit in, and he seemed to receive your thoughts more than you did his. His every thought that went your way seemed to be miscommunicated and interpreted as Lando's. The more that happened the more it was harder for him to get to you.

Oscar even tried to focus all his energy to send his thoughts to you, even though he knew it’s impossible.

'it's me not Lando, I wish you could hear me clearly!’

But he watched you as you didn't react at all. But no, you were engrossed in a conversation with Lando.

‘Why can't you see me?’

His frustration was palpable, but he didn't know how to bridge the gap.

There was these moments that just left you confused, when the thoughts you

had in your mind didn't fit what Lando was doing. For an instant, you were with Bianca looking over some data, when the thought went through your mind.

'She's incredible at what she does, I wish she knew how much I respect her?’

You looked around and saw Lando smiling with his mechanic, in the middle of a story. Oscar was looking intently at the screen in front of him.

"Thanks, Bianca." You found yourself saying, feeling confused. "You too."

"Uh, what? Sure?" She replied, clearly confused as well.

The more time you spent with Lando the more you felt like there's something wrong in the back of your mind, because you and Lando continued to grow closer. Lando is fun and light-hearted, but the thoughts you heard often carried a depth and seriousness that didn't always match his personality, and the judge-ness in them you wouldn't match with him.

Oscar was reaching his breaking point, he had no idea how long he could take it, seeing his soulmate this close to his teammate left him uneasy. He knew that there's nothing more going on between the two of you but friendship, and you only felt close to him and weren't attracted to Lando. That left him wondering how you didn't notice that you weren't attracted to Lando, because the moment he noticed you and realised that you're his soulmate the attraction and connection he felt towards you was undeniable.

Oscar walked into the motorhome and saw you on one of the sofas going over some notes for Bianca, he looked around and saw how empty the room is, and decided to just gather all his courage and go up to talk to you.

"Hey, y/n." Oscar greeted and sat on the other end of the sofa, his voice breaking your concentration.

“Hey, Oscar, how are you doing?" You asked the Australian driver with a smile on your face, that his heart clenched.

"I'm good, how about you?"

"I'm alright, what's up?" You asked, still feeling a little surprised by his approach.

Oscar seemed to be second guessing what he wanted to say as he hesitated. "Do you ever feel like you're trying to tell someone something important, but they just don't get it."

You look up at him and hum as you think through his question, your eyes meeting his. There's a depth in his eyes that you haven't noticed before. "All the time." You admitted, a hint of frustration in your voice.

‘I wish you could hear what I'm really thinking.’

His thoughts followed. The connection was undeniable, but the reality was too confusing to process fully. You started to feel a growing doubt about Lando being your soulmate. Shouldn’t you know 100% when you meet your soulmate?

As the days went on, tension started growing between you, Lando and Oscar, it was all mounting to something heading somewhere but you have no idea where.

The Hungarian weekend had no F1 Academy race but you found yourself attending the race weekend with the team nonetheless. There was something in you that told you, you had to be there this weekend, and no matter how much you tried to ignore it you couldn't. And so here you are.

This weekend looks so good for Mclaren, the team has been on an incline all season, the boys have been on top this season. Gaining valuable points for the constructors championship. They were closing in on RedBull since Max seemed to be the only one gaining points at this point. Qualifying went by so well, with Lando and Oscar securing a 1-2 for the team. For some reason you found yourself on Lando's side of

the garage, and just as they were about to head out to the track for the start of the race you called out to him.

"Good luck, Lando." You said with a smile, which he returned.

"Thank you." Lando hesitated for a moment before he turned and left, you tilted your head slightly in thought, humming to yourself.

You turned to walk to the back of the garage so you're out of the way for the race, your eyes fell onto Oscar.

"Good luck, Oscar." You tell the Aussie and he gives you a nod in reply before he too heads out, his head a bit down.

'Can't I ever win?'

The thought went through your head and once again you're confused. Lando won in Miami, yes, time went on since then, but he still won. Is he not talking about racing then? But what else would he mean on a race day?

By the first corner Oscar is leading, you find yourself cheering for him more than Lando, hoping in your heart it's him that would win. Your eye kept going to the gap between Lando and Oscar throughout the race hoping it wouldn't close. Your hands were clasped together and your eyes were glued to the screens.

You knew instantly that Mclaren missed up big time when they called in Lando before they did Oscar. Oscar is leading, he should be the one prioritised, they said it's to cover Lewis, and yes there's a threat form Lewis but the Mercedes doesn't have the pace of the Mclaren, them winning in the UK was all because of their strategy, you hope that Mclaren doesn't miss up the race for the drivers just because of their strategies again.

Your heart clenched when the team asked Lando to give position to Lando and he wouldn't listen. Oscar deserved the win, he's been doing so great, not making any mistakes during the race, he was ahead for so long with a good gap between him and Lando and if it weren't for the pitstop he'd still be the one leading, he'd be winning his first grand prix. With Oscar it was always a when not an if and you hopped the when would be today.

'I need this win.’

That thought made your heart break, the voice was desperate, needy. Was it Oscar? Or was it Lando? Who is your soulmate, there's no doubt in your mind that it's one of them, but, who?

The team went on back and forth with Lando for what seemed like forever, but the stubbornness of drivers wouldn't let him follow the team order. Oscar's race engineer kept reassuring him that Lando would let him through but as the laps went on and time ticked it seemed like it wouldn't happen. All that and Oscar kept calm.

'He can't have everything, he can't make her only see him and take the win from me.’

Your heart stopped and your eyes went wide. Oh god, there's no doubt in your mind now. You know who your soulmate is. And you've been wrong for so long. You went back through every thought you had lately and there's no doubt in your mind that Oscar is your soulmate and he knew that you're his soulmate. He knew. And he's seen you getting all close and cosy with Lando, he's seen it all.

It's 3 laps to the end when Lando drastically slows down to let Oscar by, the team manipulation finally works, and Lando decides to stop being childish. This is a weekend where you're not proud to be a part of the team. They messed up everything for both Lando and Oscar, and Lando wasn't helping in the slightest. Your heart went out to Oscar and it wasn't just because he's your soulmate. It's because he deserves this win, he's worked so hard for this and he's wanted this for years, since as long as you could remember. Oscar crossed the line becoming the 115th grand prix winner. You don't know why or when, but tears gathered in your eyes and you struggled to keep them in, they just flowed. Your hand was pressed to your lips. He's the 7th winner of 2024 in 13 races, it took Oscar a season and a half to win his first grand prix. The best rookie since Lewis Hamilton. And he just won.

Hearing his team radio had you boiling with rage. His voice wasn't happy. Instead of crying of happiness, or screaming in excitement, he was apologising to the team for making this hard on them, when it was Lando that made it hard, and it was the team that put them in that position in the first place.

'I won, I freaking won, oh god. I thought I'd be happier.'

The tears you were fighting won, and slipped from your eyes in waves, you must look crazy crying while looking at the screen.

"y/n, are you okay?" One of the team members asked you in concern, you wave her off and try to muster a smile.

"Yeah, just my soulmate." You tell her and she nods in understanding.

You make your way to the back of the podiums, at the staircase, where the top three will be coming off. You stand to the side, and Lewis is the first to descend and leave followed by the Mclaren team member taking the constructor's trophy, which the team certainly didn't deserve this weekend. Following him were the two drivers, Lando followed by Oscar. Looking at Oscar now, you could tell he isn't 100% happy. You slip between everyone. Lando sees you first, he thinks you're going to him, but your eyes are focused solely on Oscar, you don't even register anything else right now. Oscar was looking at the trophy before he looked up, his eyes meeting yours before they flickered to Lando, he too thought you're here for Lando.

The guilt is eating at you. You push all your feelings aside and just throw your arms around Oscar, he huffs in surprise of your body hitting his. He wasn't expecting your hug. One of his arms wrapped around you instantly, your body buzzing, as electricity went through your body. A feeling that Oscar shared with you. One of the Mclaren team members took the trophy from Oscar not wanting it to break, and Oscar's other arm wrapped around you and he hugged you closer. Your body was flushed with his.

"You're an asshole." You mutter as you once again fight the tears.

"Me?" He chuckles and you feel the vibration rumbling through his body.

"You knew, and didn't tell me." You whine, his hands go to your back.

"I know, I'm sorry." Oscar whispers in your ear and you sigh.

"Congratulations, Oscar, I'm so incredible proud of you and happy for you." You tell your soulmate and hold him even tighter. "I know how much you've worked for this, and how much you dreamt and thought about this."

"You're my lucky charm." He tells you with a smile on his lips, you pull back and meet his eyes.

"Doubt it." You say and sniff a little, wiping the tears that left your eye away, it's then that you start to notice everyone around you. Your face flushes and you pull back from Oscar. "I uh, I should let you go do your duties."

"Yeah, you probably should." Oscar says and looks at everyone that's still around, they're trying to give you two privacy but they're un mistakenly looking and listening

to the both of you. "I'll find you after."

"Okay." Oscar walks away, there's a pip in his step that wasn't there before. Not only did he win the race, he won you.

'What a nice ass.’

You think and Oscar glances over his shoulder at you and smirks. You blush and turn and escape your embarrassment. You need to kiss already.

You couldn’t get a hold of Oscar until after the team celebration, he sees you standing to the side after he’s been sprayed and taken pictures with the team. The smile on his face widens and you see his teeth, it makes you smile. He holds the trophy in one hand and takes yours in the other before he’s pulling you through the garage, through hallways until you reach his room. He walks in before you sets the trophy down before he twists, your back hits the door slamming it shut. You manage to close your eyes before his lips are on yours. You gasp from the surprise, his lips are a bit chapped but all you can taste and smell is champagne. One of his hands cups your cheek while the other is on your waist, your hands land on his chest. You shiver feeling the muscles under your fingers. The flood gates open.

’fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this.’

’you taste like champagne.’

’you taste like cherry, your favourite chapstick.’

Oscar hums and you smile through the kiss, your nose nudging his as you tilt your head to the side deepening the kiss.

’I think we need to slow down.’

’I know.’

But you don’t slow down, Oscar only pulls you closer the hand on your waist moves under your shirt feeling your skin gets him groaning in your mouth.

’we actully need to slow down.’

With this last thought from you, you slow down the kiss. When Oscar goes to pull away you can’t help but chase after his lips. He chuckles and presses three kisses to your lips before he pulls away and takes half a step back, you lean your head on the door and take your soulmate in.

”You’re so hot.” You tell him, taking him in, in his race suit, his fireproof shirt tight on his shoulders, chest and biceps.

“Good to know.” Oscar smirks, his tone sassy, and you meet his eyes, the twinkle in them that you see now, fits with the thought you have in your mind.

”Huh, interesting.” You mutter.

”What?”

"Nothing, just finish what you have to before we can go." You tell Oscar, patting his chest before you kiss his cheek, turn and leave the room, knowing that the team must have other things to film with him still.

After all, Oscar Piastri is a Grand Prix winner. Oscar does end up filming a few things for Mclaren social media accounts. You stand in the garage with one of the photographers, he shows you some of the pictures he took today on his camera, when Lando comes up to the two of you.

"Any good pictures of me?" He asks with a smile, honestly it looked a tad bit forced, but he's had one hell of a race today.

"Yeah, a bunch." You tell him and he looks at the screen as the photographer flips through the display and shows Lando the pictures he took today. You point out the ones you like and talk about the moments those pictures were taken, but soon the photographer had to go, do some editing for them to be posted on social media.

You and Lando stood there for an awkward silence, you've never shared an awkward moment with Lando before, but the reason you started getting close to him in the first place is because you thought he's your soulmate. Not that you want to stop being his friend or anything.

"So, Oscar is your soulmate?" Lando asked, even though he knows Oscar is your soulmate, every team member was talking about it, and he's seen the hug, he's seen the smile on Oscar's face, how in peace and content he was.

"Yeah, turns out he is." You tell him with a smile, just the thought of Oscar gets you smiling now. There's a beat of silence.

"Did you think I was your soulmate?" Lando asked timidly, his voice dropped and you almost missed what he said, you bit your bottom lip slightly feeling a bit anxious, and guilty.

"Yeah, I-uh I did." You admit to Lando and you watch as his face drops. "But Oscar being my soulmate won't change anything, I enjoy your company and I enjoy being your friend."

"I think it changes a few things... not that Oscar being your soulmate is a bad thing, but you only getting close to me to see if I'm your soulmate." Lando says and he looks away to hide the hurt he's feeling, despite what some people think, Lando sometimes struggles with making friends, and he doesn't see them all the time, even Max F. But you're always there, whenever Bianca is racing you're there, and with the races for the academy being on F1 race weekends this year, it means you're there for half of the season, more than he can say about anyone else in his circle of friends.

"But it doesn't have to." You try to plead with him, he's had a rough day and the last thing you want is to make it even tougher. "Lando you have to believe that I enjoy being your friend, I should have realised sooner that you're not my soulmate, but I think I still would've gotten to know you better anyways."

"I don't know." He didn't sound too sure, but it's better than nothing. You'll take what you get, maybe after he calms down and has some time to think he'll be okay again.

"I understand what you're saying." You give Lando a small smile and put your hand on his arm in comfort. "Take the time you need to think about what you want to do, and I'll respect your decision, but just know that I like having you as a friend and I would like to keep you as a friend."

Lando only manages a nod, you see Oscar from over his shoulder.

‘Are you waiting for me?’

‘Yeah, but take all the time you need!’

"Are you going back to Monaco today?" You ask Lando, he nods.

"Okay, I'll see you next week then." You tell him, smile and walk away.

"Everything okay?" Oscar asks once you're out of the garage and heading to the car park.

"Yeah, I'll tell you later."

You end up on the sofa in Oscar's room, you're sharing a room with another girl, and his room is bigger. It was the perfect place for you two to talk.

"I have a question." You say, and look at Oscar, his hand is in yours as you play with his fingers.

"Go ahead." You glance at your hands before you clear your throat and ask.

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"I wanted you to figure it out like I did, I didn’t think it would take you that long, and the feelings you get when you know who your soulmate is, that's a feeling I wanted you to have." Oscar told you softly.

"Yet, all I felt was guilt for not figuring it out earlier." You admit and meet his eyes. You wished he told you earlier, it would have made things easier.

"I-I guess, I haven't thought about it like that." Oscar frowns, he didn't think of it like that, but he remembers figuring it out, and how warm and bubbly he felt then, it's a feeling unlike any other he's ever felt before. "But I don't want you to feel bad or guilty, I understand how hard it is."

“But I’ve gotten so close to Lando thinking that he’s my soulmate, and you’ve seen all of that, and now he’s hurt feeling a bit used.” You say and a small pout makes its way on your lips.

“I feel bad about that, I’m not going to lie, seeing you with him made me doubt you being my soulmate a bit, but I knew you’d know it’s me eventually.” Oscar said. “And Lando would have done the same thing if he thought you’re his soulmate, his emotions are just on a high, next week everything will be back to normal.”

”You think so?”

”I know so.”

"Wait, how did you figure it was me?" It just occurred to you.

"I heard you thinking about Bianca, and I knew you were studying to be an athlete trainer, plus since we were young I heard you think about racing." Oscar tells you, and you roll your eyes at how good his detective skill is.

"I wonder who's fault it is." Oscar chuckles, before he shrugs, his eyebrows raised, acting all innocent. He practically is the reason you're doing what you're doing right now.

"I just put two and two together."

"And were you sure?"

"100%, except a couple days you were so close with Lando, but then I heart your thoughts about that meal in hospitality and then you were talking about it with Bianca."

"Now I'm feeling even more shitty." You groan and throw your head back, melting into the sofa. Oscar smiles and pulls on your arm, you raise your head to look at him.

"Don't, every soulmate meeting is different." Oscar says and brings your hand up to his lips for a couple of kisses. You sit in silence for a few minutes.

"Right, Oscar, did you call you mum?"

"Shit!" Oscar scrambles off to get his phone and call his mother, he'll get a telling for not calling her yet.

Main Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house .

Oscar Taglist:

@teamnovalak

[sovamurka]

If you ever wondered what has been going on inside my head for the last year, then well, I guess you should know that it's "Я остаюсь" cover made by Igor 'Garik' Sukachev and... a LOT of rock musicians (yes, I'm going to list all of them, you will at least know the rock legends of my country), here they are:

- Sergey Shnurov ('Ленинград')

- Vladimir Shahrin ('Чайф')

- Alexander F. Sklyar ('Ва-Банкъ')

- Oleg Garkusha ('АукцЫон')

- Sergey Galanin ('Серьга')

- Sergey 'Chizh' Chigrakov ('Чиж&Co')

- Alexey Romanov ('Воскресение', 'Машина времени')

- Nikolai Devlet-Kildeev ('Моральный кодекс')

- Evgeny Margulis ('Воскресение', 'Машина времени')

- Andrey Blednyi and Anton Zavyalov ('25/17')

- Andrey 'Knyaz' Knyazev ('Князь', 'Король и шут')

- Nastya Poleva ('Настя')

- Svetlana Surganova ('Сурганова и Оркестр', 'Ночные Снайперы')

- Aya ('Город 312')

- Anton 'Puh' Pavlov ('F.P.G.')

- Masha Makarova ('Маша и медведи')

- Vladimir and Sergey Kristovsky ('Uma2rmaH')

- Tatyana Litvinenko ('Квартал')

- Maxim Kucherenko ('Ундервуд')

[harrysfolklore]

the bestest - lh44

summary: lewis hamilton wins the silverstone grand prix, and his daughter thinks he's the bestest. wc: 1.7k. based on this request

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The British Grand Prix always carried a unique significance, but this year felt particularly momentous. Fans filled the stands, waving flags and banners, their cheers echoing through the circuit.

For Lewis, this year felt extra special because his wife and little girl were joining him, and that was enough to give him an extra boost of motivation for the upcoming race.

Alana Hamilton is just four years old, and she's the light of your lives. She's a curious child who always has a smile for everyone, her bright eyes constantly scanning her surroundings for new wonders to discover.

And she has her father completely wrapped around her tiny finger, everybody knew it.

Alana clung to your hand as you made your way to the paddock, her eyes wide with wonder at the spectacle around her. She had been to races before, but this time she was more aware of her surroundings and everything happening.

“Mommy, look at all the people!” Alana exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she held your hand. “They’re all here for Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart, a lot of them are here to see Daddy race," you smiled at her, "He has a lot of fans who love to cheer him on."

“I’m going to cheer the loudest!”

Alana’s gaze followed every movement, her curiosity sparking with each new discovery. She was soaking it all in—the hustle of the team members, the hum of the engines, the vibrant colors of the team uniforms.

When you and Alana arrived at the team garage, Lewis was there, busy with pre-race preparations. He looked up, his face lighting up at the sight of his family.

“There’s my little girl,” he said, bending down to scoop Alana into his arms.

Alana giggled, her small arms wrapping around his neck. “Daddy, are you going to win today?” she asked, her voice full of hopeful excitement.

Lewis brushed a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going to give it my all, princess. With you cheering me on, I have a really good feeling about today.”

As Lewis held Alana, George Russell, his teammate, walked by and smiled warmly at the scene.

"Well, if it isn't the Hamiltons, my favorite family," he said, his tone friendly and genuine.

Alana's face lit up with recognition. She remembered George from previous encounters and team events. "George!" she exclaimed, waving enthusiastically from her perch in Lewis's arms.

"Hello there, little champion," George chuckled, giving Alana a gentle high-five. "Are you excited for the race today?"

"Yes! Daddy's going to win because he's the bestest driver in the whole wide world!" she declared with innocent confidence, looking at Lewis with adoring eyes.

Lewis couldn't help but beam with pride, though he tried to maintain a humble demeanor. "Well, I don't know about that, sweetheart. There are a lot of great drivers out here today."

"But you're the bestest, Daddy," Alana insisted, her conviction unshakeable.

George laughed good-naturedly. "Well, Lewis, looks like you've got your biggest fan right here. No pressure or anything," he teased.

You smiled, watching the interaction. It was heartwarming to see how the team had become like an extended family, especially for Alana.

"Alright, princess," Lewis said, giving Alana one more squeeze, "Daddy needs to finish getting ready for the race. You be good for Mommy, okay?"

Alana's grip tightened around Lewis's neck, her little face scrunching up in defiance. "No, Daddy, don’t go!"

“Sweetie, Daddy has to race now," you gently stroked her back, "We’ll be right here watching him the whole time.”

As Alana clung tighter to Lewis, her eyes welling up with tears, you could see the conflict on your husband's face. He hated leaving her upset, but the race was about to start.

"Hey, princess," Lewis said softly, gently prying her arms from around his neck. "Remember what we talked about? Daddy has to go fast in the car so he can come back to you even quicker."

Alana's lower lip trembled, but she nodded, reluctantly loosening her grip. "Okay, Daddy. Be fast and be safe."

"I will, princess. I promise," Lewis kissed her forehead tenderly.

He handed her to you, and Alana nestled into your arms, still watching Lewis with wide, admiring eyes. He turned to you next, his expression softening.

"I'll see you both soon. I love you."

You smiled, leaning in to kiss him. "Be safe out there."

With one last glance at his family, Lewis turned and headed towards his car, his determination renewed by the love and support he carried with him.

As you made your way to the VIP viewing area, Alana's eyes darted everywhere, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling circuit. The roar of engines filled the air as the cars lined up on the grid.

"Look, baby," you pointed, "There's Daddy's car. Number 44, remember?"

Alana nodded eagerly, her eyes fixed on the sleek silver Mercedes. "Go, Daddy, go!" she shouted, even though the race hadn't started yet.

Throughout the race, you explained what was happening in simple terms Alana could understand. She cheered every time Lewis's car came into view, her enthusiasm making everyone around melt.

"Daddy's car is going so fast! He's the bestest!" Alana exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder.

When the final lap came, the tension was palpable. You held Alana close, her little hands clutching your shirt as she watched Lewis take the lead. As he crossed the finish line first, the grandstands erupted in roars.

Alana’s eyes widened in amazement. “Mommy, did Daddy win?”

“He did, sweetheart!” you exclaimed, hugging her tightly. “Daddy won!”

"Daddy won! Daddy won!" she chanted, her voice filled with pure joy.

You couldn't help but laugh at her enthusiasm, your own heart swelling with pride. "Let's go see Daddy, shall we?" you suggested, taking her hand.

You hurried to the pit lane, eager to congratulate Lewis. As he climbed out of the car, the sight of you and Alana brought a huge smile to his face. He reached out, and Alana practically leapt into his arms.

“Daddy!” she shouted, hugging him tightly. “You did it!”

Lewis laughed, his eyes shining with happiness. “We did it, baby girl.”

Lewis held Alana with one arm and reached out to pull you into the embrace with the other. The three of you stood there, a little island of family amidst the chaos of the celebration.

"I'm so proud of you," you whispered to Lewis, giving him a quick kiss.

Alana, not wanting to be left out, planted a big kiss on Lewis's cheek. "Me too, Daddy! You're the bestest ever!"

As the celebrations continued around you, Lewis kept Alana in his arms, not wanting to let her go. She had always been clingy with him, especially since he was away a lot of weekends for races. She missed him a lot, and every moment they spent together was precious to her.

When it was time for the post-race interview, Lewis tried to set Alana down, but she clung to him, her small hands gripping his suit. “No, Daddy, hold me.”

“Come on, sweetheart, let Daddy do his interview,” you coaxed.

Lewis looked at you with a soft smile. "It's okay, I'll take her with me. I'll pay whatever fine the FIA gives me," he said, adjusting Alana in his arms. You couldn't help but chuckle, knowing how much this moment meant to both of them.

As Lewis approached the interview area, he saw a familiar face waiting for him - Nico Rosberg, his former teammate and rival. Nico's eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of Lewis carrying Alana, a small smile making its way to his face.

"Lewis, congratulations on your win today," Nico began, microphone in hand. "And I see you've brought a special guest with you."

Lewis grinned, bouncing Alana slightly in his arms. "Yeah, this is my daughter Alana. She's my good luck charm today."

"Hello there, Alana," Nico smiled warmly at her, "Did you enjoy watching your dad race today?"

Alana, suddenly shy in front of the camera, buried her face in Lewis' neck but peeked out with one eye. "Daddy is the bestest," she mumbled.

The crowd around them collectively "aww'ed" at her adorable response. Lewis chuckled, patting her back gently.

"Well, Lewis," Nico continued, "that was an incredible drive today. Can you talk us through that final lap?"

As Lewis answered, discussing the intricacies of the race, Alana stayed nestled in his arms, occasionally lifting her head to look around curiously and playing with the zipper of her father's suit.

When the interview concluded, it was time for the podium ceremony. Lewis knew he couldn't take Alana up there with him, no matter how much he wished he could.

"Alright, princess," he said softly, "Daddy has to go up on the big stage now. Can you stay with Mommy and watch?"

Alana's grip tightened, her lower lip trembling. "No, Daddy, I want to stay with you!"

You stepped forward, gently prying Alana from Lewis's arms. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's watch Daddy get his big trophy. We can wave to him from here."

Reluctantly, Alana allowed herself to be transferred to your arms, her eyes never leaving Lewis. As he walked towards the podium, he turned back to blow a kiss to both of you.

You found a good spot near the podium, holding Alana up so she could see clearly. Her eyes widened as she watched Lewis climb the steps to the top of the podium.

"Look, baby," you said, pointing. "There's Daddy on the top step. That means he won!"

Alana's face lit up with pride and excitement. "Daddy won! Daddy won!" she chanted, clapping her hands.

As the British national anthem played and Lewis stood tall on the podium, trophy in hand, Alana watched in awe. When Lewis spotted you two in the crowd, he gave a special wave and blew a kiss your way, making Alana squeal with delight.

"He sees us, Mommy!" she exclaimed, waving back furiously.

You hugged her close, your heart full of love for your little family. "Yes, he does, sweetheart. He's waving just for you."

As the champagne spray began, Alana giggled at the sight of her daddy getting all wet. It was a perfect end to a perfect day, one that you knew would be etched in your family's memories forever.

[silverselfshippingchaos]

y'all have permission to laugh at me for being predictable

maybe i need to just.. stop playing y.akuza.