#if you want a specific moment to point to about a change. it's the first proper revival video.

[pippin-katz]

Voices We Don’t Hear

I was thinking about the scene in the cell down in Hell and wondering why it makes my heart clench so much even after having watched it so many times at this point, and I figured it out! It also led me noticing something in another scene that sticks out when it shows up. It’s the scene in the forest with Edwin and the Cat King.

It’s two lines of dialogue that I’m referring to: “This is all you are. Do you understand?” - Edwin from Ep. 6 “Hey, hey… let’s get you out of here.” - Charles from Ep. 7

These two lines have rare emotional tones for each of them. That sentence is a really bad way to say it, but I'll try to explain it.

We don't hear Charles speak in a soft voice often. He whispers down there in Hell and in Esther's kitchen, but I can't think of any other moments where Charles actually whispers. And there's something different about his voice in that line specifically. Because even though he's whispering, his voice is very clear and not breathy. With full whispering, the person's voice gets mostly obscured by that weird static-like/screen-filter that comes from talking that quietly, like Edwin's voice. (I have no idea how to describe what I'm talking about, but hopefully that's enough for you to understand lol)

So, even when Charles is speaking softly, it's not as quietly as he can. That line in particular is right after Edwin tells him what the demon does to him, and it's softer than all the others. And it's obvious why.

This is without a doubt the first time Charles has ever seen him like this: crying, small, scared, and so unlike himself. It's already heartbreaking. Then Edwin tells him about his torture, and he breaks down crying after managing to keep his most of his composure before.

If you look closely, Charles blinks a few times fast before he turns and cups Edwin's face. It's so dark and the lighting is so strange, but his eyes are shinier than they were previously. He forces himself to keep his focus on the task and being strong for Edwin, but he looks like he wants to cry.

Then he says that line so gently, so delicately while looking directly into his eyes while he holds his head between his hands. Charles voice is softer and a tiny bit strained from keeping his emotions in check.

It's the softest, most loving, and gentle moment of Charles in the entire show.

On the flipside, the line Edwin says to the Cat King is similar. Edwin definitely gets angry, frustrated, etc. and shouts and yells. But all of the people he yells at are people he has personal connections with, and the root of his distress comes from himself.

He yells at Crystal because he's having an anxiety attack after all the rapid changes to their routine, and bickers back and forth with her, but it's never truly malicious. He’s angry, but more importantly, he’s hurt. Crystal’s seeming lack of understanding of the weight of the importance is reminding him of how little people care. He snaps at Simon in Hell, but within minutes he calms down, recognizing how genuinely remorseful and ignorant Simon had been. He yells at Charles in a sort of angry-loving way on the staircase in Hell; he's not actually angry with him.

But in the forest, Edwin finds out that the boy he's been seeing and making friends with has been the familiar of the witch who wants to destroy them in disguise, and was pretending for at least some of their relationship. He also learns of all this because the Cat King exposes him rather than Monty confessing. He's hurt and angry, and then the Cat King pulls the "you owe me card" to try and get Edwin to kiss him even after all of the times he's rejected him.

He tells him off and goes to leave, but the comment the Cat King makes about dismissing him makes him turn around immediately. The way Edwin gets close to him, invading his space like he's done to him multiple times, and shoves the bracelet in front of his face.

There's real venom in his voice when he says the line. It's rough, gravelly, and it's obvious that Edwin has truly run out of patience for the Cat King's antics.

It is truly the angriest we see him in the show, at least from a standpoint of genuine anger toward someone he considers an adversary of some kind.

Edwin has no real relationship with the Cat King; he's basically his warden, the person who has trapped him in this town, and then treats him like he owns him. Given that it was a matter of diplomacy and caused by an error he made, he allowed the Cat King to have his fun to some extent, but in that forest, when he's just found out his new friend is actually a crow and there's a massive, ghost-eating mushroom monster threatening his and Charles' existence, he could not give less of a fuck about playing nice. He's frustrated and upset and stressed about so many different things all at once, and then this smug cat guy, who seems to think they're something more than a captor and his captive, has the audacity to say that Edwin owes him? Yeah, bye bitch! He is done.

I want to hear more of both of these versions of the two of them. I want to hear Edwin rip into an enemy, voice dripping with malice. I want to hear Charles comfort and reassure him (or anyone, but preferably Edwin) with that soft voice that is cherishing and gentle, treating him like something delicate that deserves to be handled with care after the universe has quite literally ripped him apart and crushed him.

(ko-fi)

[mama-qwerty]

Sonic 3 Review

Okay guys, I'm still gonna do some breakdowns of scenes and characters (feel free to keep sending in asks if you have something specific you want my take on), but wanted to get my thoughts on the movie out there.

Keep in mind that I came into Sonic through the movies, and have never played or watched any cut scenes from the older games. I have no idea the actual plot and specific details of any of them, just a vague "this happened in some game or another" in the broadest of senses.

So I didn't come into Sonic 3 with any preconceived ideas about what should be in it regarding Shadow's story. The movieverse is a separate universe (as are all Sonic media, in my mind), so even if there were some things that were different, I took them in correlation with what's been established, or what can be done under the rules and physics of the movie's world building.

Obviously spoilers ahead:

All in all, I found the movie fun, and it told a good story with good characterizations. The action started quickly and kept steady through most of it. We had an exciting introduction to Shadow at the very beginning, when he woke up and chose violence, and it was a good way to start things off.

Yeah, it was a little goofy in some parts, but this is a movie made to appeal to children, so Jeff and Co. couldn't go all into the angst for the whole thing. There were some parts I would have done differently, or omitted entirely, but if you look at the more weird parts of the movie as kind of along the same lines as Boom (especially for the dance number in the laser hallway) you can roll with it.

There were many moments that tugged at your heartstrings, and a few very powerful moments that I've already talked about. There is a much more emotional impact in this one that was missing from the first two, as our boys struggle with their actions and how they affect others. They were all handled very well, with each having a good role to play in the story.

The climax was great, and it was exciting to see Sonic and Shadow working together.

As I said, all in all, a really fun ride and my whole family enjoyed it a lot.

That said, let's look at a few of the points that I see some complaining about, and my take on them.

Not Enough Wachowski Family Moments

Okay, this one I will kinda agree with. We got a teeny peek into their dynamic is a family at the beginning, right before Rockwell showed up to whisk the boys away to clean up their mess. It would have been nice to see them all interacting more, to see how Knux and Tails have fit into this dynamic.

Devil's Advocate - There's only so much screen time available, and we know they're a family. We don't need to be bludgeoned over the head with fluffy scenes of the boys doing chores and having group hugs and all that. It would have slowed the narrative, and in the end, all that would not further reinforce the idea that they've come together as a family any more than their camping trip and celebration for Sonic's "B-Earth-day" already established.

Shadow's Origin Change

In the movieverse, Gerald claims that Shadow came to Earth encased in a meteorite. His energy readings were off the scale, so they took him to a facility to study him. He was not originally created by Gerald, and was simply an alien come to Earth and then taken to be studied.

Devil's Advocate - I have no opinion regarding this change, as the movieverse is different from any other media. They've already altered backstories where they needed, to make things at least somewhat 'realistic' and allow the boys to exist in 'our' world without major complications of Sonic just running around as a child fighting Eggman, and Knuckles being the last of his kind and having thousands of years separating him from his closest ancestors. (Not to mention the size change of the Master Emerald - having one the size of a VW Beetle would have been a little hard to hide or cart around.)

Having Shadow arrive kinda like Stitch is fitting in this version of the Sonic verse, as going into a lengthy explanation of how Gerald could manage to create a space hedgehog from scratch, when Angel Island may or may not exist, would have pushed suspension of disbelief a little much.

Maria's Not Sick

I thought the whole "Gerald takes her with him everywhere" thing for Maria seemed a bit flimsy, especially since she wasn't sick and in need of him to find a cure for her. They were in a super high security facility and there's this girl who's just allowed to wander freely simply because she's the granddaughter of the lead scientist?

I would have liked to see more of the reasoning behind her being there. And more of Maria and Shadow's relationship, especially from Shadow's side.

Devil's Advocate - Despite my comments above, I actually liked that they didn't make Maria's defining factor be her illness. She was a character in her own right, and befriended Shadow out of her own kindness, and not simply because he was created to cure her, and thus they were kinda forced to be together. She reached out immediately, and essentially kidnapped him from his tests to show him how to have fun. She showed him kindness, not because he was supposed to be her 'cure', but because she saw this little boy, all alone, and treated as a thing by the scientists, and took it upon herself to show him that he was more than that.

Too Much Gerald and Eggman Screentime

I will admit that sometimes it did seem like they were focusing a little too much on the Robotniks. We were subjected to a montage of Eggman living out little moments of childhood 'milestones' with Gerald, and that aforementioned dance number in the hallway was reminiscent of the dance battle in the second movie. Kinda silly.

Devil's Advocate - I think these scenes were to delve a little into Ivo's character a bit. It was established in the first one that he was an orphan, and through the second it reinforced the idea that he thought he didn't need anyone. He pushed people away, built his walls, and hid behind his bots. But now that he's faced with an actual blood relative, who seems to want him around, all those walls came down and we saw the hurt little boy within Ivo. This only made it hurt all the more when Gerald turned on him. And damnit, I actually felt bad for Ivo in that moment.

The Master Emerald/Chaos Emeralds

There is some confusion as to how these things worked. At the end of the 2nd movie, Sonic very distinctly sent all the chaos emeralds away. Knuckles reformed the Master Emerald without them. But in this movie, Sonic went Super with the Master Emerald, and somehow the chaos emeralds were still within it.

Devil's Advocate - Yeah, I got nothin'. 😆 Not sure if there was a deleted scene explaining that or something, but it seemed a pretty glaring continuity error.

But, whatevs. We go with it. 'Cause dis is how we roll.

And as an aside WHY DO YOU HATE WADE, JEFF??? Seriously, there were so many other ways to handle that scene, and you did THAT to him?? UUUGGGGHGGHGHGHGHh

Sonic Didn't Call Tom and Maddie "Dad and Mom"

Okay, yeah, I agree with this one. He called Tom 'Dad' at the end of the 2nd, meaning he finally accepted them as his parents. They call themselves a family. And yes, I will accept that he may slip back into their names during lighter times, when it's an emotional scene, he should call them "Mom and Dad". Such as in the cave and when Tom was hurt.

Devil's Advocate - Yeah, no, I can't argue with this. You can't have him call Tom 'Dad' in the last movie and then never touch on that again. The boys didn't even call each other 'brothers', for crying out loud! The perfect place to do that would have been the cornfield, and it was still 'friends'. THEY ARE BROTHERS YOUR HONOR AND TOM AND MADDIE ARE THEIR PARENTS

~~~

I'm not saying the movie was 100% perfect. There were things I found silly, or unnecessary. Things I would have done differently.

But taking a step back and looking at the full picture, and not just the individual brush strokes, it was entertaining, fun, and had more than a few moments that I found really powerful, much more than either of the previous ones did.

I'm excited to see where they go in the next one. Things are really ramping up.

[simplydnp]

Hii as a passive fan looking in from sidelines, I read something along the lines that Dan and Phil did come out like few weeks apart but they haven’t confirmed or denied that they are in a relationship? I am confused as what is the official narrative from their side, can you clear this for me please.

I have no doubt of them being together just confused about official timeline, xx

dan and phil are embracing the ambiguity that is brought to them under the 'we know you know' mindset

you're correct in that they came out a few weeks apart (though, phil kind of did in his tweet supporting dan on the day dan came out)

it's funny you ask this, as we do have a recent answer to a reporter about their relationship:

this is the first time they've really been asked this since coming out, but it's important to note the context here: they're talking to a new zealand reporter, about their tour. to me, it reads as an aggressive fuck off signal to the media. ie, this topic is off-limits. so 'officially' their stance is that their lives are private.

unofficially? there's a year's worth of dapg videos that carry heavy implications. it's a lot of reading between the lines, it's a lot of interpreting jokes, it's a lot of paying attention to things both Said and not said. from explicit sex jokes to earnest moments to even specific games they've played, it's easy for an audience to pick up the clues because we're looking for them--cause dan and phil tend to put them there for us. it is important to note that there has been a significant change in tone of the gaming videos from the past vs the gaming videos now. while the language and the types of jokes have changed, so has the dynamic--in the best way possible. they're much more free and relaxed on camera now, both an intentional choice and the result of being out for 5 years.

they've got a mortgage together, alright?

in terms of them not directly commenting on it--at least at this point, it just makes things easier. they aren't usually on tour so reporters aren't usually asking them these questions, but even beyond that, they're incredibly internet famous. even they themselves were surprised about quote "how many people were horny for dan and phil in 2024". and sure, it isn't the same numbers as pre-hiatus, but there's definitely still a lot of people here. so while we champion for a hard-launch (since they keep moving closer) we also know that it's bigger than just saying it. it would be everywhere. everyone would have something to say. and then it's not about the content anymore, it's the relationship (though, one would argue their chemistry makes the content, but i would say their connection adds to it, but isn't the commodity they specifically sell)

in terms of the timeline in particular, we're days away from 15 years of dan and phil, in that they filmed and posted pinof 1 in 2009 at the end of this week. they've never intentionally specified any other anniversary, so we don't know (though we have suspicions), but it's unlikely it took That long to get there. coming out was the next Biggest step, one could argue, and you're right about the timeline of weeks between videos. what i reckon that's important to note is that dan 'appeared' in a phil video surprisingly soon after june, despite not having made any other videos since christmas of the year before. even though it was just his voice, it was enough. there were 4 ish years of limited joint content between them, but it did happen (mostly stories and podcast style things), up until the return of dapg last october. since then, there's been regular dapg uploads (crazy phrase) and dan's either been directly in or mentioned in every single amazingphil video since the return. it depends how much you think implications and indirect phrasing are evidence/signifiers, but there's been a Lot that's come out of gaming videos in particular that Mean Things to the fans, but aren't something able to be captured by the media and ran with (though, one article did see the 'dan and phil are getting divorced' title and reported on it as if it were true, despite it just being an 'it takes two' video)

[skeletalheartattack]

[perpetuallyfive]

God, I'm so happy with what they did with Maddie Nolen.

I'm sure there will be plenty of people mad because obviously there was a weird backlash over a character who has sex with one half a ship, so I'm sure some people worry this will lead those people to feel justified in their initial response.

But ignoring people who can't emotionally regulate for a second, because those childish impulses aren't worth dictating the fun things a narrative can do: Maddie is SO INTERESTING as a character and she fills in a lot of the questions people seemed to have about the rest of the season.

Consider for a moment that it wasn't Caitlyn who convinced Vi to be an Enforcer. It was Maddie.

I know that some people took this line to be about Zaunites, a sort of obvious connection to the very racist idea of "one of the good ones," but since Maddie is talking about Marcus and his betrayal of the Enforcers just before this, I'm pretty sure her framing here is something else. The point she's making is specifically targeted at Vi's own beliefs and weaknesses, her desire to protect. That seems clear to me now with all we know about Maddie's capacity for manipulation.

She's not saying, "You're good, for a poor."

She's saying, "Wow, I agree with you, the Enforcers are really bad; it's so upsetting. I think you might be the only one who can change it, but only if you join us." This is what convinces Vi to do something she never thought she would.

Well, this and the fact that Caitlyn believes in her so much which, again, is information she gets fed to her directly from Maddie. It even seems like Maddie seeks her out just to say this, which on first viewing felt oddly convenient. Wow, Vi just happens to meet this naive girl who just happens to say exactly what she needs to hear to do something so out of character.

Except obviously none of it was coincidence. Everyone already knew how much Vi meant to Caitlyn and getting Caitlyn under control would require either controlling Vi or removing her from the equation. This was a push in that direction.

Then there's her more obvious role as the spy in Caitlyn's bed, there to reassure her that the Noxians are only trying to keep all of them safe. Then when Caitlyn expresses larger doubts, she's immediately ready to lay out an alternative. You could just give up, Maddie seems to whisper gently in her ear. Just reestablish things as they were before.

But she knows Caitlyn isn't going to go for that. She's not going to go back to the council as it was, because it's only going to remind her of the empty place her mother left behind. Maddie knows that Caitlyn isn't going to take this offer, which is precisely why she suggests it. She frames quitting as the only clear alternative to going along with everything Ambessa wants because she knows that Caitlyn will refuse, which leads her right back into alignment with Ambessa. She makes continued obedience into an active choice that Caitlyn affirms she's making.

Even Maddie's comments that suggest direct opposition to Ambessa — "you're our leader... I follow you" — are designed to frame herself and her true leader in direct opposition, just as Ambessa's own warning about entanglements is there to further that point. They both make a point of reminding Caitlyn that they are her true ally, isolating her further from anyone who isn't the devil and (other) devil on her shoulders.

This way Maddie and Ambessa can both tug at Caitlyn, pulling in what feels to her like opposite directions, all so that she lands precisely where they wanted her all along but with the illusion of active agency.

And look, I'm not saying my read on her is gospel, because I think they intentionally gave us enough room to really speculate and wonder about her, someone who could have been just a background nothing character but ends up being such a huge part of the second season. That's so interesting!

I especially love that she comes across as really naive and innocent, just some poor little thing swept up in the fervor, when in reality she's a true believer who has been manipulating things to go her way from the start.

[birdantlers]

A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

[monstersflashlight]

Okay, hear me out: Oviposition with your insect-morph or alien partner that can go either to a cnc/dubcon play space if you want, but like...reader slowly becomes addicted to being a broodmother. Bonus points if reader is a fembunny with strong breeding instinct? :3

A/N: Hi there! This was hella fun to write, I though it would make more sense not to make reader a bunny hybrid but hope this meets all your expectations, I personally think turned out pretty good. (Also want to recommend this Stardew Valley fic because it’s the first time I read brood-mother kink and it def changed my perspective). Enjoy!

Brood-mother

Insect-monsters x fem!reader || oviposition, free use, heavy dub-con, breeding, brood-mother kink, aphrodisiacs

You walked into that cave without idea, without knowing what the fuck you were supposed to do there. When the wizard hired you for a special mission, going as far as looking specifically for you because apparently you had everything he needed, you didn’t argue much. He said some cryptic stuff as he gave you instructions to walk into the cave and look for something, he only said you’ll know when you found it, and you, silly you, accepted. It was good money, and it seemed simple enough, even if the wizard was creepy as fuck and you didn’t even know what you were looking for.

You had been walking in the cave for less than ten minutes when you felt something against your back, and you fell face down to the ground. You didn’t have time to turn around, didn’t have time to react before you felt some slimy substance around your hands and ankles. It was disgusting and you tried to get it off but you couldn’t move, the substance pinned you down to the ground. You were panicking, unable to move in any direction… and then you felt it. It was like tiny pokes against your back, against your legs, and buzzing sounds that made you shiver. What was that?

You turned your head to the side in time to see a bunch of crawling-insects running in your direction, you were about to scream when something was shoved inside your mouth. You didn’t know what it was, but it tasted amazing and you latched to it, sucking strongly to get more of that substance. The reaction was fast, your whole body getting hotter as you felt the first insects getting to your body.

The tore your clothes off, your body being stripped as you groaned and moaned against the weird thing in your mouth, unable to scream, unable to stop sucking that sweet nectar that was driving you slowly insane. You barely remembered the words of the wizard when they said you would be prepared and ready when they arrived. What seemed cryptic at the moment made total sense when you realized they were preparing you for them, they were making sure you were fertile and breedable for them.

They needed a queen… and they found you.

That was your last thought before you felt something akin to a cock was shoved into your pussy without preamble. It felt weird, ridged and harder than a human penis, but it rubbed against your walls in a way that made your head dizzy with pleasure as you got wetter and wetter. It didn’t take long before you felt the appendage parting inside of you, the side pressing against your G-spot, the tip probing at your cervix before something was inserted into your uterus. An egg. They were laying eggs inside of you. You wanted to run away, to scream… to care. But it felt so good. It felt too good and your brain wasn’t even yours anymore, you could only think of pleasure and breeding, of being full of them so you could be their queen. Their real queen.

That cock was pulled out and another took its place, thrusting into your body without mercy as you squirmed in pleasure, your pussy convulsing as you came around it. Another egg was pushed inside you. And another dick shoved inside your dripping pussy. An egg. A dick. An egg. A dick. It was an intoxicating circle that drove your brain and body into a frenzy.

You’d never felt something like that, being at the complete mercy of creatures you couldn’t even name was making you aroused, aroused to the point of juices pooling under your body. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac, but deep down you knew you were just perverted, and the fact that you were just a fuck-hole to breed for them… it made you hot. The idea that you will be pregnant with all their eggs… it made your clit tingle harder as another egg was pushed inside of you. It was intoxicating.

It continued for hours, they pumped you so full of eggs you felt about to explode, your stomach distended pushed your body into an awkward angle that only made your pussy more available for the next round. So many of them filled you, you lost count of how many eggs there could be inside of you. You came so many times you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.

But then the buzzing stopped. “Shush little explorer, I’ve sent them away, they already did their job… They found the brood-mother,” the creepy voice of the wizard resonated inside your half asleep brain as you felt the slimy restrains disappear and he took your body, too tired to fight back.

[girlfishes]

“My most recent research study, which included more than 17,000 fifth-grade through 12th-grade girls in The Girls’ Index, reveals a troubling trend: 67% of the participants reported that they don’t say what they’re thinking or disagree with others because they want to be liked. Let that sink in for a moment. Two-thirds of girls are silencing themselves to be accepted.”

“Other findings from our survey are just as stark and, frankly, terrifying. Since 2017, the percentage of girls reporting confidence has declined from 68% to just 55%. A staggering 53% of girls report feeling persistently sad or hopeless. As one seventh-grade girl told us, “Girls my age don’t feel happy the way we are. We want to be someone else.” Reading this, I feel a painful twinge of recognition — like I’m hearing my younger self speak.

We also discovered that two-thirds of girls reported that their body image negatively impacts their confidence. Two-thirds! And nearly 60% of high school girls said they don’t believe they’re smart enough for their dream jobs.”

My analysis ⬇️

This is very disappointing, but it is no surprise. Undergoing female socialization means being conditioned to constantly monitor how you appear to other people.

Questions such as “am I being respected right now”, “do I agree with what is being said”, “do I feel healthy” take the background, while questions like “do I seem nice and kind”, “how can I get this person to like me” and “do I look pretty/skinny/young” take the forefront instead. This is an exhausting way to live.

In the political sphere, women are being asked to first change the language around how we think about our issues before we can talk about them. The specific words we use are often more important to those on the left than the actual content of what we are saying. Making sure we appear politically correct is being made more important than choosing the words that best reflect what we want to say. Often, changing our language so we can appear to be kind and considerate towards others completely obfuscates our points and issues.

As someone I forget so brilliantly put it, we are more concerned with saying nothing wrong than doing something right.

This preoccupation with appearance has a much deeper effect on the lives of women than most take for granted.

[devilander]

a mirror in half-light

18+ 1.5k. homelander x supe f!reader. blood, dirty talking, cunnilingus, use of telepathic powers, acts of violence mentioned (not between reader and HL)

From someone so concerned with shielding his mind, Homelander quickly comes to appreciate your telephatic powers and how useful they can be. Especially during a boring Seven meeting.

prompt sent by @infinetlyforgotten, thank you so much 🤍

When you were first introduced to the Seven, many, including your new colleagues, compared you to Mindstorm. Sure, there were some similarities—the ability to see a person’s thoughts or to project specific images. But that’s where it ended. 

The ace up to your sleeve, which distinguishes you and earned your supe name as Quickstep, is both your telepathic precognition, giving you leverage in hand to hand combat, and your crown and glory—possession. Supe or non-supes, all could have their minds hijacked by you; an ability Vought decided not to publicize. 

Your fellow partners in fighting crime knew, though; and from day one you could feel Homelander watching you with suspicion, a stare so filled with distaste your knees almost buckled. 

Seeing you in a corridor, Homelander signaled for you to approach.

“Quickstep,” he sneered, invading your personal space until he towered over you and your neck ached from looking so high up. “If I catch you using your little powers on me, be sure I’ll crack your spine. It’ll be easier than stomping on an ant. Got it?” His sudden artificial smile did nothing to lessen the weight of his words. 

Homelander was your hero, always, since childhood. Not only that, ever since you saw him for the first time, the shining blue eyes, the softness of his blonde hair, that commanding voice... You were a goner. And he most certainly knew. The disappointment almost, almost broke your heart. 

Little by little, however, with the unspoken promise you wouldn’t pry on his mind, you’d grown close. Partners in fighting crime, yeah, of course, but you had his back, no matter what. 

In one of your missions together, Homelander smeared in an innocent’s blood from head to toe, your first instinct was to help him—clean the mess. And you couldn’t lie, him in his violence and brutality did something to you. 

“Hey, you,” you murmured. “Let me help you, okay? Let me take care of it. Let me protect you.”

Surprisingly, he acquiesced. It took no more than minutes to possess the mind of some poor bystanders, having them fight and commit atrocious acts; they wouldn’t know what came over them and Vought would be too happy not to disclose. In quick action, the narrative changed; from rabid supe, to terrorist crowd. 

Later, you found yourself in his penthouse, in his bathtub, naked and cleaning the gore as he squeezed your waist. When you sealed your relationship with a bloodied kiss, you knew there was no turning back—and you loved it. Loved his quirks, his humor, his beautiful nose and soft hair, loved his flaws and all that came with it. Loved the tie that bound you forever. 

“I love you. I love you so much,” you whispered in his ear as you lay in his bed, a few hours before your meeting with the rest of the Seven. “I ache for you all the time. It overflows, sometimes.” You giggled, remembering when your desire burned you so passionately, so intensely, your mind had one focal point: Homelander and what he could do to your body. Without realizing, all your wants and needs were suddenly projected on his mind.

In the first time, you were fearful he’d throw a fit, but he simply grinned devilish at you. 

“Wow,” he laughed. “If I’d known more about your dirty little mind I would have put it to use a long time ago, babe.” 

After that, it became a fixture, in bed, in daily moments where voicing your thoughts wasn’t an option, or in missions when silent communication was useful. And bit by bit, he delighted in it, veritable proof of your devotion and love.

As it were, in this stolen moment, cuddled in his bed, he answered. “And I love you, my darling, My own mirror.” He nuzzled your neck. “No need to scream in my mind, I’m gonna eat your pretty pussy until you beg me to stop.” 

“I’d never,” you said breathily. 

Slowly kissing from your collarbone, to your stomach and thighs, mischievously looking you in the eye as he bit and kissed and licked everywhere around your cunt. His strength was enough to keep you in the exact place he wanted. Such a delicious torture. 

Finally he turned his attention to your clit, dragging his tongue over it in elaborate patterns—he was relentless, and you both moaned at the contact. You were loud, thrashing and screaming at the slightest touch, but only for him. He played your body perfectly. 

Your hands found his hair, soft to the touch, and yanked, wanting him closer and he groaned—the vibrations going straight to your core. Soon he started tongue-fucking, just as you liked it, going deep and slow, alternating to trace your slit from your asshole to your clit; not one part of you ignored. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. You’re fucking made for me, your pussy is mine, mine, understand that?”

“It’s yours! It’s all yours. Please, Homelander, please—”

“Please what?”

“Let me come, let me come in your mouth, I want to feel you.” It was all too much, the mess his tongue made, the wetness running down your pussy and dripping in the mattress.

Moaning, he plunged two fingers deep inside you, as he squeezed your ass, bringing you even closer. You cried from the pleasure he woke in you, and even in this madness you caressed his hair, closing your legs until he was in the position you liked most: with a perfect view of his face, his soft locks, his bright eyes. 

He smirked, squeezing you tighter, until you no longer touched the bed, and he slapped your ass so hard your whole body trembled. 

“Like that, princess? Like when I do whatever the fuck I want with your sweet body? Now show me. Show me what you want.” 

You complied instantly. 

You imagined him feasting on your pussy, licking it all until his spit and your slick became one and the same. His fingers marking your ass, your thighs; biting so deeply even your invulnerable skin would cleave to his superior strength. You wanted his tongue deep inside you, for yours on end, fucking your pussy so good your legs would spasm and you would scream for all the Tower to hear, pussy clenching just the way he liked. You wanted it all—Homelander slurping on your clit and swirling his tongue, making you squirt and swallowing it all, leaving his chin a beautiful fucking mess. 

In the aftermath, body boneless and exhausted, you wanted his fingers, for him to drag it all over your juices and make you swallow and gag on it. Then, in a little tenderness, he'd give you a breathtaking kiss, further proof of your intimate lovemaking. 

As you projected all of this on his mind, his smile grew bigger, more wicked. And you knew he'd deliver it, or even more. 

“You really are such a slut.” You giggled; it was all in the game.

Later on, as all the Seven were debating their latest terrorist attack, and what plan they'd need to put in action, all you could think was Homelander. His hands on you, his tongue lapping at your clit and his disheveled hair—which, you noticed, he didn't fix for the meeting. It wasn't fair, he was too mean at taunting you.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him and he knew. Flashes of your morning together ran through your mind. No matter how satisfied you'd been, you wanted more, again, all the time. You wanted his kisses and devastation, his head between your legs and his mouth both teasing and giving you the most world-shattering pleasure. 

You wanted to caress his hair, your newfound obsession, while he fucked you, hiting that sweet spot and filling you up with his come.

In your daydreams, you tuned out from the conversation, and like being burned you found Homelander staring straight at you, an expression oh so familiar. Unintentionally he'd become the spectator of your fantasies. 

Rising from his chair so quickly you barely caught it, Homelander said, “That's enough for today. I have other things to take care of. Quickstep, you stay.”

Whispers of complaint were quickly shut down, as Homelander glared at them until each and everyone left the room.

“Well, well, seems like someone is still wantin' for more.”

He laid his hands on your chair, then turned it so you were face to face. 

“I couldn't help it,” you smirked. “I can't get enough.”

“But that's not fair, don't you think?" He clucked his tongue. "It's your turn to please me.” He pulled you from the chair, and manhandled you until you fell to your knees with a thud. “Now, princess, get to work.”

[russo-woso]

Turned on by the simplest thing || Alessia Russo

Masterlist | Prompt list

Request Breastfeeding kink gets turned on every time you go to feed she gets annoyed someone else is sucking your breast instead of her

A/N Now I debated whether to add something into this fic, and I asked my readers and you can see their responses here and here.

Warning smut 18+, breastfeeding kink, soft smut, cunnilingus, postpartum sex, insecurities

Summary Alessia gets turned on by the simplest thing, breastfeeding.

Alessia’s favourite part of your body was your boobs.

You knew that, she knew that, most people knew that.

In the changing rooms, she’d always get caught staring at your bra.

If you were lying in bed, she’d have her hands resting on your boobs.

If you were having sex, her mouth would always be latched to your nipples.

She just loved your boobs.

But there was a new person who loved your boobs just as much now, your newborn baby girl, Ava.

The first time you had to feed Ava was eventful.

The nurse was teaching you how to get Ava to latch on, Alessia was sat just watching, specifically eyeing your boobs.

But because she was so wrapped up in the moment of becoming a mama, she failed to notice that someone was slowly replacing her.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that she finally noticed.

“Hi Ava, hi baby.” Alessia cooed, picking a crying Ava up and cradling her to her chest. “Let’s go see mummy, huh? She’ll feed you.”

Alessia walked out of Ava’s nursery, walking into the living room where you were sat.

“Hi, bubba.” You said, taking Ava in your arms and preparing yourself to feed her.

Alessia came and sat down next to you, helping hold Ava as you latched her on.

The room was silent apart from small hums of contentment from Ava as she drank.

You just so happened to look at Alessia to see her eyes drilled on your boob.

“What’re you looking at?” You asked, a smirk in your face.

“She’s stealing my job, your boobs are mine.” Alessia said, a pout on her lips.

“Lessi, baby, she has to do this.” You pointed out, a slight smile resting on your face.

“I know, but…”

“You can have them later, okay? When we’ve put her back down. As long as you’re gentle.”

Alessia’s eyes lit up, nodding her head eagerly before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek.

—

Ava had fallen back asleep and you’d managed to transfer her back to her nursery crib without waking her.

Both, you and Alessia, had decided to start getting Ava to sleep in her nursery during the day so when it was time for her to go from your room to her nursery, she would be comfortable in there.

You heard Alessia in the bedroom and so you creaked open the door, your heart swelling with love as you did so.

You watched as Alessia lit candles around the room, playing some relaxing songs through the Alexa.

“Baby!” Alessia whisper shouted, not wanting to wake Ava up.

You waited a while and then opened the door, pretending to be surprised.

“Lessi… you did this?”

“I want to show you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.” Alessia explained, wrapping her arms round you and bringing you in for a hug.

You responded by kissing her gently, all the love you felt for one another being poured into it.

Whilst kissing you, Alessia reached for the bottom of your shirt, gently pulling it over your head.

“Baby, listen, my body… it’s not how it used to—” you began, pulling away from the kiss.

“—Y/N, you really think I care about that? Pretty girl, you’d just given birth to our daughter. I don’t care what you look like. I love you no matter what.” Alessia said gently, your heart swelling with love.

“I love you so much, lessi.” You told her before reconnecting your lips in a passionate kiss.

Alessia guided you to the bed, unclipping your bra in the process and laying you down on the bed.

Alessia lips didn’t leave yours, even when she climbed on top of you.

Her lips travelled down to your boobs, gently kissing them.

“Fuck.” You hissed at the sensitivity as she licked your nipples.

“Do you want me to stop?” Alessia asked concerned, but you shook your head no.

Alessia continued sucking gently at your nipples.

You hadn’t realized straight away, but when you heard Alessia swallowing, you realized she was drinking your breast milk.

“Tastes so good, baby.” Alessia mumbled before sucking again at your nipple.

“Lessi, you’re drinking it?” You asked, shocked, but it came out as a moan due to the pleasure.

“Tastes too good not to.”

“Fuck, baby.” You gasped, finding the action hot.

Alessia hummed, satisfied, before moving down to your soaked core.

“Gonna be so gentle, love, I promise.” Alessia whispered, her tongue flattening against your folds.

You arched your back at the contact, having not felt it in months.

Alessia lapped at your folds before licking your clit.

“Feel good?” Alessia questioned, the vibrations of her voice clearly evident as jolts of pleasure ran through your body.

“Yes, lessi, feels so good.” You told her, your hand finding her hair.

Alessia stuck to your clit, thinking that you’d be very sensitive, due to the birth, anywhere else.

“Fuck, less — I’m so close, baby.” You warned her, pulling on her hair. “Please don’t stop, please.”

“Cum for me, pretty girl.”

You let out a cry as your legs spasmed around Alesia’s head.

She licked your juices before coming up to be level with your face.

“Thank you for being gentle.” You whispered, bringing Alessia in for a kiss.

You moaned as you tasted yourself on Alessia’s tongue.

Alesia’s lips left yours and travelled down to your left boob.

“Can I have some more?” Alessia asked and you nodded, resting a hand on the back of her head and playing with the baby hairs.

Just as Alessia began to suck, a cry was heard over the baby monitor.

You and Alessia both looked at each other and sighed.

“I’ll go get her.”

[pastryfication]

but that's just when you happened

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: based on packing it up by gracie abrams and this request <33

the paddock roared with life as the cars zoomed past in incredibly high speed, but you weren’t focused on them. only one car really mattered in your eyes. his car.

never before had you loved someone so overwhelmingly much. never had you been so all consumingly infatuated. you wouldn’t consider yourself selfish—quite the opposite actually—but never had you wanted so many good things for another person. you wanted him to get everything he could ever ask for. everything from a cold pillow to a cool wind in his perfectly styled hair to something much bigger—something much more important. things like a win. a formula 1 win.

he wasn’t a loud person, quite the opposite actually, but when you laid together talking late at night, it was as if the words wouldn’t stop flowing from him. he told you about his deepest fears and wildest desires, and you listened closely, because he was so special. so so special.

you weren’t looking for love when you met him. you had actually sworn it off, but when you saw his dopey smile and warm eyes for the first time, all your rules went out the window.

every thought about packing up your heart for good—packing it away so it couldn’t be hurt another time—went out the window the second he entered your life.

no one made you blush like him, and it wasn’t even intentional most of the time. he just couldn’t help himself when everything about you was so damn beautiful. so beautiful and so perfect for him. it was as if you were build to be together, the way your hand fit in his like a puzzle piece. the way your head felt so perfectly placed tucked under his chin when you hugged.

with him, love wasn’t a game anymore. he ticked all your boxes, but you hadn’t even realised that before your friends pointed it out. the way you couldn’t find any icks, didn’t have anything you wanted to change, felt too good to be true. the first night you slept together where you woke up in his arms you almost panicked because the feeling was so new to you. new, but so so nice.

it was as if he was sent to earth specifically for you. and just at the right moment when you were about to pack it all up. he came into your life and changed it all. turned everything upside down.

his dry humour matched your dark one completely. no one could make you laugh like him. laugh until you felt like you were actually dying of happiness, like nothing mattered but the silly inside joke you shared.

he fit so perfectly in with your family dynamic. laughing with your father, sharing sweet stories with your mother, befriending your siblings as if it was the most natural thing in the world. watching the sunsets in the summer along with them, him standing close to you with his arm around your shoulder while your parents smiled adoringly at you. falling asleep together in your childhood bedroom, his hand drawing lazy shapes on you bare skin. repeating it all with his family afterwards.

he was your soulmate. you were 100 percent certain. you needed him him like you needed air to breathe. like you needed food and water. you wanted to listen to him talk forever and ever and even longer. with him by your side, you were sure you would die happily.

you held him after bad races and good races. through happy days and days were he felt like giving up. never did you let him ache alone.

you completed him and he completed you. you wanted everything good for him. everything he could ask for. but most of all, you hoped he would finally get the win he had so long longed for.

and at that moment, as you stood with his family in the mclaren garage, it finally seemed like a real possibility. your hands were squeezed tightly with oscar’s sisters. hattie holding so tightly on to you that your hand was about to lose feeling, but you didn’t pay any attention to it. you eyes were glued to the screen showing the race. showing your boyfriend in first position.

your heart was beating out of your chest, a lump was forming in your throat and your whole body was tensed up. this could be it. this could be the moment you had longed for for so long.

when his car crossed the finish line, you weren’t even thinking. no thoughts were clear in your head. nothing but oscar, oscar, oscar.

as soon as he was out of the car, he was running towards you. you had made your way to the barriers with the team and his mum, but he ignored them all as soon as he spotted you. his arms were around you in a tight hug and your head almost took a hit against his helmet with the speed in which he pulled you in.

but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered but him and the fact that he was a formula one winner. your winner.

a hundred cameras were probably pointed towards you, filming the first public display of affection he had ever shown, but it didn’t matter either. all you cool think was oscar, oscar, oscar.

it was weird how important he was to you. how intertwined the two of you were. you weren’t even looking for someone when you met him, yet here you were. you were so close to packing it up, but then he happened. he turned your whole world upside down, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. he was all that mattered. oscar, oscar, oscar.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther�� is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Hi!

I’d love a part two to your hit me hard and soft fanfic. Maybe Y/N continues to avoid them as a romantic relationship but begins to accept a platonic one liking eating with Dick or hanging out with Jason at school, etc… but the Batfam gets impatient and talks about why they are afraid (and maybe hunt down the ex which could gain their trust?)

Hit me Hard and Soft: Whispers in the Shadows

Synopsis: The relationship between the batfam gets broken after mistakes lead to accusations, and accusations lead to contingency plans.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: Poly!Yandere; All characters aged up; Possible betrayal; Bad father Bruce, but is he actually the asshole here?; Arguments; Mentions of killing and torture; Possibly ooc batboys: English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Not much action between Reader and the batboys here, but definitely something. Read the end to answer my question👀

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

— You can't be serious.

The tension was at its highest point. Only a few times priorly did the conflict between all of them get this bad, and as always, they feared things couldn't go back to the way they were.

— I am being serious. That's how things work. — Bruce stated darkly and Dick narrowed his eyes. — We tried it the nice way, I trusted you to behave, but you couldn't do that. — Bruce raised his gloved hand and pointed at Damian. — First, Damian can't control himself. He spent a decade acting right. Justice, not vengeance. But now, he's using (Y/N) as an excuse to defile orders and act as an assassin again! — Damian hissed and clenched his fists, taking a step forward.

— If you really cared for them, you would understand, father! But as always, you put your so-called mission above everything, even us! Even them! — Bruce clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in his direction, then turned to Jason.

— And you! How many chances do I have to give you? Both of you! You don't change. You will never change. And until you do that, you will never deserve (Y/N)’s or mine trust. Or their love. — Jason's heart broke in two, but he didn't react on the outside. Just kept his hard, Red Hood’s exterior. As he always did every time he and Bruce had a falling out.

— Bruce… — Dick muttered, a mix of a warning to remind him of not going too far, and betrayal by what he was witnessing. Bruce didn't look phased. And the fact he was still wearing Batman's suit, minus the cowl, just made this whole situation more genuine. He was neither Bruce Wayne, the persona, nor Batman, the vigilant. He was just Bruce. Their boss and their father.

— You hunted down that man, tortured and killed him! And you… — He took his gaze away from Jason and glared at Damian again. — Knew about it, and didn't notify us!

— I did know about it. Todd, you should have told us before. I also wanted that scum’s blood in my hands-

— ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU WILL STAY AWAY FROM (Y/N). FOREVER.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

— Sound’s convenient. — All head’s snapped in his direction.

— What do you mean, Tim? — Dick asked. All muscles on his body tense. Tim gazed at him for a moment, then at Damian and Jason, then at Bruce again, staring directly into his eyes. — I just think it's very convenient that Bruce's getting rid of two of them. While your reason checks with past conflicts we had, with your morals and mission. It's also good for you that you wouldn't have to share (Y/N)’s attention with so many people in the future. Right, Bruce?

Silence took hold of the room.

— What are you implying? — Bruce stomped forward until he was face to face with Tim, their nose’s almost touching, daring him to say more. Tim didn't back down.

— Yeah, Tim, what're you implying? — Jason raised an eyebrow behind his helmet and took a step forward. The others copied that action.

— I’ve been watching you, Bruce. Just like you've been watching us. I know you’ve been upgrading contingency plans, more specifically, our contingency plans. I think he's been trying to keep us busy. To rile us up to commit mistakes. While he hogs all of (Y/N)’s attention. He said Damian could be trusted again if he proved himself, that was a year ago, and he still didn't give Damian permission. I bet he knew Damian would get restless and get more violent with criminals. Until he had an excuse to kick him out. And Jason, he let you spend time with (Y/N) at university. But as soon as (Y/N) started calling you their best friend, hanging out with you outside of classes and even confiding in you about their trauma, proving that our plan to make them trust us was finally working, suddenly (Y/N)’s ex receives an offer to transfer to GCPD, while everyone here has a… Weakness, when it comes to losing people we love and avenging their suffering, it's a known fact some are more… Trigger-happy than others.

Dick shook his head.

— Tim, that's something serious you're accusing him of.

— Let him continue. — Bruce growled darkly.

— I don't have anything to accuse you of, Bruce. I just don't trust you. — He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

— So you're ready to brush off what they did? — Bruce accused and Dick started to feel even more restless seeing that the distance between them didn't change, feeling the urge to get in the middle and defend his little brother.

— I didn't say anything. But I wouldn't be surprised if me or Dick were next. — That made Dick snap.

No, he can't.

He can’t keep me away from them.

After everything I did.

We're just so close now.

Just earlier today we were having lunch together.

He can't.

He can't do this to me.

Is that how Jay and Dami felt? Is that why they snapped and started killing people? Is that why Jason killed that guy? Just for the idea of losing them forever?

Is that why, even with how heartbreaking and horrible it sounds, any possibility of someone trying to take them away from them made Tim voice out his paranoia? Thoughts Dick had when everything was quiet, when he just brushed it off as intrusive thoughts?

It isn't… Logical… But it also is…

The only thing stopping him from believing Tim wholeheartedly is the lifelong trust he had on Bruce. But those are just feelings. And they all feel. Intensely. For you.

And as much as they tried to make it peaceful, everyone having a piece of you and being happy. They were having problems, and a traitor was always a possibility.

Either way, he couldn't take that chance.

That night, Wayne Manor slept almost completely empty. All of the sons were gone. And you would know it too.

It's been a week. They've been meeting at the apartment just beside yours. It was empty, until Damian bought it, and started living there after cutting ties with his father. He wasn't happy that the others were also using it as their nest, a place to meet and talk about strategies. And keep an eye on you.

Damian was slowly steering his tea, mind elsewhere, not really paying mind to the conversation. While it was important, his stomach was full of butterflies and his heart pounded hard every time he thought about earlier, something he couldn't stop doing. After a whole year of being almost completely away from you, finally spending time with you was like a dream. That just made his resentment towards his father grow worse, even if he didn't do that on purpose, it still felt like injustice.

He knew since he was born, his way of doing things was always better.

He just told you he didn't know that part of the town much, and you, sweet you, already acquainted with his brothers, invited him to show him around. A bad taste came to his mouth whenever he thought he was the least close to you, even if he knew everything there was to know about his beloved. He got left behind. He let himself be left behind.

Because he was weak. Because he was submissive. Because he trusted his father.

His mother did send him to his progenitor's home saying that he needed to learn from him.

— We could use the League.

All heads snapped to him.

— Huh?

— We are talking about contingency plans for our father. We could have the League of Assassins on our side. Infinite resources against one single man. (Y/N) would live in luxury. And they did tell us… — His heart warmed at the sensation of finally feeling included in your life. — … Multiple times that they despised the cold weather Gotham always seems to have. Eth Alth'eban is always hot.

— We are not joining those fuckers, and you shut down that idea before I start believing what that old man said about you and kick your ass into your grave, demon brat. — Damian kept stoic after Jason's response.

— We could use the League for something good for once. I could. As the Head of the Demon. — He retorted with confidence.

Dick shook his head in disbelief.

— Dami, I think that's too much. It would only prove what Bruce was trying to say. — Damian leaned forward, as if getting closer would make his point come across as more genuine.

— I could do it! Not as a dictator like my grandfather! But as something actually good! Not just for us, but for everyone! The whole world!

— Does that megalomaniac plan of yours have an actual strategy? — Damian rolled his eyes.

— Of course it has. Kill anyone who gets in the way of my rightful place at birth. — Damian tilted his head at Tim, who looked at him in disbelief.

— Even Ras? — Damian frowned. What a dumb question. Damian would do anything for you.

— Especially Ras. — A fist hit the table and the oldest got up with a scowl in his face.

— No one. Is going to kill. Anyone. And we are not going to use the League. — Damian got up too.

— What is stopping you? This is for (Y/N)! It is not just some fucking petty act to annoy father. He acted behind our backs and he will take my beloved from me! From us!

— We don't know that yet! — Even with Dick's exclamation, it was clear not even him was totally sure about Bruce's intentions.

— … Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. — Tim muttered. They all observed he had a distant look on his face, it was the look he had when he was planning something. After a few seconds, he looked up again and got up, facing Damian. — I'm with you. It’ll be nice to see Ras look when he realizes he lost to me one last time. And to have whole guardianship of my spleen he keeps on his bedside table again.

— What? — The other three sputtered.

— I won't kill anyone. But I will help you and be an ally. Even if that means losing the Titans and leaving behind everything I build here. All for (Y/N). — Tim spoke. Jason got up.

— Tim, you can't be serious too. — He received a glare in return.

— I am. You're invited to join us. Or to become our enemy.

Damian was staring at Tim, the brother he always had a strange relationship with, full of fights and sarcasm, but they always knew they could count on each other in the end. Because they were family.

Of course, it would be nicer to have you all to himself, but he also needed more allies, and brilliant minds like his own. It would also hurt to lose every person he loved while choosing you, even if he would always choose you in the end.

— … What if (Y/N) doesn't trust us after this? — Dick mumbled, trying to see both sides before making a decision.

— We’ll explain to them. About how we got rid of every single individual who wanted to isolate and steal them from us. How we want to care for them. Keep them safe. And how I- We, made the world a better place in the process. — Dick glared at him halfheartedly.

— We have a solid plan here, Dick. We Just have to form our strategies based on what we have. It will work!

Dick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He started walking around the apartment, contemplating, listening in on your apartment and Tim and Damian in the background, trying to convince Jason.

When even Jason seemed convinced, Dick knew what he had to do.

Everyone turned to him when he came back to the table again, in expectation.

He looked Damian in the eyes and put his hand on his little brother's shoulders. So grown. So different from what he was before meeting you. You brought the worst out of him. Out of all of them. And you didn't even know it. That was the worse part.

But Dick was always known for being a manipulator.

— Congratulations, you're the new Demon's Head.

Extra note: I'm curious to if you guys think Bruce was actually planning something and not just being regular canon Batman putting his morals above family👀

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

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[pandoraspurgatory]

seeing your hc of katsuki being into vanilla homemade porn has me dazy eyed 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫….. i’m so curious now if there were any specific porn creators you thought of when envisioning what he liked? or any who you think would fuck like katsuki? goodness… 😵‍💫

Turbulent

Truthfully I am not a porn watcher as I am a porn reader, so that question is far beyond my knowledge lol. Though I’ve written an in depth version of Katsuki watching porn, hope you enjoy<3

Katsuki Bakugo can’t get off on mainstream porn, though something changes when he finds a couples homemade video

Katsuki Bakugo likes vanilla porn, masturbation, cum, pretty vanilla here, mentions of facefucking + cuckholding, Denki and Mineta are bitchless

Katsuki never cared enough nor paid much attention to porn, stroking himself in his bedroom wasn’t worth the effort when he could spend his time training and honing his skills as a 3rd year student close to graduating.

Either it was that, or the fact that he just couldn’t cum from it.

He first gave it watching porn a go when Denki and Mineta spent the afternoon yapping about different genres of porn. He wasn’t an eavesdropper, though he listened in on the conversation, taking notes for a later date.

Bakugo only ever found himself rubbing one out when he woke up with a painful hard on, or got so worked up over some fantasy that he couldn’t get his dick back down.

That same night Katsuki sat infront of his laptop, legs open and pants discarded on the carpeted floor, a bottle of lotion splayed out on the bed next to him. He opened up the first website that appeared after typing ‘porn’ in his browser, incognito mode on of course, he had double checked. Hastily typing what he had overheard in the orange and black search bar.

‘Face fucking’

He grimaced as he clicked on the first video of some Internet whore with a fat cock stuffed down her throat. Mascara running down her face as she started her assault of sucking on the comically large dick. He could somewhat imagine himself doing it, though the drool and mess was a massive turnoff that made him feel sticky just watching it. Next

‘Cuckholding’

The moment it appeared on his screen after searching a lot made sense regarding Denki and Mineta. Of course they were into this shit, why the fuck did he even decide to listen on to those morons conversation. He was confident he could never be into this. Next

The next hour was filled off him stroking his half erect cock to mediocre videos with no luck. He’d even watched the top most recommended on the site, the drum beat before each video posing as a reminder that this wasn’t working. At this point it wasn’t even to get himself off, but rather to prove to himself he could find a video to do it for him.

None of this shit on his laptop could even remotely turn him on, there was no love or intimacy, just videos of devoid eyes and lacklustre movements that screamed ‘I want to get home and get my paycheck!’.

He hated to admit it, though he couldn’t ever imagine himself having a one night stand or watching these emotionless videos again. Despite his rough and calloused nature, he craved intimacy just as much as he craved to be the best in his class. Katsukis cock lay limp in his hand as he scrolls through the videos, more and more loading after each roll of the laptop mouse.

That was until a certain video caught his eye.

‘Our first video - couple homemade’ 12 views, posted 2 hours ago

He clicked on it, something felt different about this one. The thumbnail displaying what seemed to be a couple in their mid twenties, kissing in the frame of the video. The women had long black hair and sexy curves that made Katsukis dick twitch. The man she was with cupping her face gently with deep admiration for her in his eyes.

As the video slowly played out on his screen, he paid no mind to the humming background noise of their bedroom fan and the shitty resolution. What struck him was the way they kindly talked to each other, pressing small yet passionate kisses on each others faces, how their soft hands rubbed and stroked at one another with care and love.

Katsukis hand roughly gripped around his dick before he could even think to do it. Feeling himself desperately stroke faster each time the couple said sentences of care and sweet nothings to each other. Low moans he didn’t anticipate escaping his mouth as the man slowly inserted himself into the curvy brunette. He wasn’t even attracted to the couple in the video, though he couldn’t help but feel the coil in his stomach build as the intimacy of their love making displayed itself before him.

He wanted to be the one to do it, to bury his cock into his hypothetical girlfriend and dick her down with all the love in his heart. Apart of him felt weird for not being turned on by the professionally made studio porn instead of the homemade couple video with a total of 500 pixels. He tried not to think about it too hard, and focus on how hard his shaft throbbed in his hands.

He felt blissed out as he slowly edged himself, determined to cum at the same time as the couple, a desperately attempt at feeling included. Squeezing his tip harder every time pretty moans escaped their mouths, fuck he wanted to be in their position so badly.

“F-fuck babe… mmmnggg… gonna cum”

“That’s it, come for me pretty girl”

“Cum with me! I wanna feel you cum inside me”

Katsukis stomach felt hot, he was so turned on by the way they spoke to each other, the way they both quickened their movements desperate to make each other cum.

The moment the couple on the screen cried out in pleasure, Katsuki gave a few quick tugs, finishing himself off.

He gave out an embarrassingly loud groan as he released himself, ropes of his cum shooting onto his laptop screen. Panting as he laid back on his bed, he needs someone to do this with as soon as fucking possible

[princessbrunette]

when sarah and john b had decided they wanted to recruit you to join their relationship, there were a few subtle steps they had planned to take.

𐙚₊˚⊹♡

they saw your potential. they knew perhaps you weren’t the most overtly sexual in nature, but they also knew they could change that. sex was like cake, you could never just eat one spoonful of it. all they had to do, was pique your interest — not just in sex, but in sex with them specifically.

baby steps. you ask sarah to send her the videos she took of you guys from the party the night before, and she ‘accidentally’ includes a video of her and john b fucking she’d taken on her phone the same day. of course she acted bashful, apologising profusely for the mistake and acting incredibly grateful when you’d told her there was no problem and that you’d delete it.

‘yk i wouldn’t even really care if you watched it tbh. i trust you. its only me and john b anyway… 🤷🏼‍♀️💕’

— she’d text you after a moments passed. curiosity of course got the better of you, a shaky, clammy finger pressing the play button as you nervously bite your nail, glancing at the door and turning the volume way down as precaution as if someone were to catch you. the focus seemed to be on sarah, grinding her hips to ride the brunette boy, soft tits bouncing as he lazily smacks her ass and encourages her to keep riding. she seemed to be putting in the work, john b merely used as a vessel for pleasure, a dildo with a voice box— and something about that had you shamefully heating up. sure, your knowledge on sex was fairly limited — but what you did know through movies and tv shows was that guys were usually too prideful to let the girl do the work, yet therefore caring less for her pleasure. the two of them seemed… open. different.

the text of apparent permission sarah had sent you only made you feel the slightest bit less guilty when you snuck your hand down the waistband of your panties and humped clumsily at your palm as you hit replay.

the blonde cameron had facetimed you suddenly and out of the blue seven minutes later. you yanked your hand out your pants like there’d be a way for her to see you before you’d accepted the call and you swallow thickly, brain too frazzled to think before hitting the green button. she was smiling, laying on her bed in that white tank top that hugged her tits, the same tits from the video and accentuated her golden, barbie tan. you try and be normal about it. she’s just your friend after all.

“hey, what are you doing right now?”

you blink at her, the way she’s smiling at you — before checking yourself out in the small box in the corner. you look all heated and askew, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. fuck.

you told her you were watching a movie and then excused yourself not even two minutes later, overcome with embarrassment and the feeling of being caught. sarah rolls over once the call ends, smirking to john b who was reclined on her bed with a hand behind his head, scrolling through his own phone.

“she was totally getting herself off.” she purs matter-of-factly. the brunette boys eyes light up a little as he glances over, brows shifting upwards.

“yeah? how’d you know?”

“she had it written all over her face.”

the two of them got greedy, with the whole introducing you to the idea of being chronically horny thing. without even really speaking about it, they figured the more they normalised this kind of behaviour in the group dynamic, the more likely you were to feel comfortable enough to let them hit. jj maybank was sexual in nature to the knowledge of anyone who had the pleasure of having a conversation with him longer than five minutes. he was sure to make it easy and perhaps bridge the gap, they just needed their in.

by that point, you’d started to catch on anyway.

the four of you sit in a small uneven circle on the floor of the chateau, drinking on a friday night. at first you’re a little confused — you were so sure sarah had been hinting at something with you, herself and john b for a while now — but as you sat beside jj on the floor, his arm rested casually behind you, rubbing casual circles on your waist you perhaps started to question whether or not you’d made that up, and really they were just trying to be friendly so they could set you up with their friend.

as soon as the words ‘truth or dare’ leave john b’s mouth with a knowing, yet trusting and warm grin — you knew it was bound to take a turn. with this group, it always did. everything was about sex, whether you were doing it or talking about it or pretending to do it infront of eachother, it was some kind of secret obsession that you could feel yourself feeding into without knowing. a lamb being brought in to be sacrificed, a group of secretly perverted individuals itching to get your sweet, cranberry blood on their hands.

sarah speaks your name when you foolishly pick dare, worried if you had picked truth they’d make you recount all the things you’d hadn’t done. she leans across the circle to you on her hands and knees so her face is right in front of yours, breath in your face, ass in john b’s.

“i want you… to show me how you’d ride a dick.”

“what?”

she pushes back, reaching behind her on the couch and fetching the throw pillow, placing it in the centre of the circle with a mischievous grin. the pillow it long, firm and rectangular — the comfiest of its kind to nap on during the day whilst the group discuss whatever mishap they were planning on getting into that week.

“aw now we’re talkin’” jj gets comfortable, sitting back a little with a jokey grin. nothing about their tone was out of the ordinary, which what made you feel so comfortable.

“i don’t understand?” you smile, tilting your head like a lost puppy which only made you appear more delicious as their prey.

“straddle the pillow… and show us what you’d do if you were to ride an actual, real dick.” sarah explains kindly, even pulling your hand so you would shuffle forward on your knees to the centre of the small circle.

“look, we know you haven’t done that before— no shame in it,” john b shrugs one shoulder understandingly with an air of casualness which calmed you. “but a dares a dare and hey, maybe you could learn something right now.”

“i been told i’mma pretty good teacher too, so—” jj starts casually in his amused drawl, but is cut short pretty quickly by the sarah snapping her head towards him, her tone more curt and snappy.

“jj.” she scolds quickly and he shuts up, but as quickly as she changed her tone, she was back to smiling back at you encouragingly. she didn’t want jj to take it too far with the pervy jokes and send you running. their plan was perfectly crafted, and they didn’t need him ruining it. john b’s eyes linger on the blonde. nothing malicious about it, perhaps a warning though — because jj presses his lips together and moves his glance back to you with a thick swallow.

all in this time, you had decided to take another long swig of your drink before straddling the pillow. the group cheer, the fun and jokey atmosphere back in full swing as you cover your face, giggling into your hands.

your skirt stretches over your upper thighs at the position, and you shuffle — ensuring you’re sat comfortable on the throw cushion. perhaps the alcohol had lowered your guard, because without much thought — you wince, the material catching over your clit. you were sensitive, assumably from ovulation and as you try to get into a comfortable position, your face falls, realising you may be too sensitive to partake.

“uhm,” you clear your throat as the playful jeering dies down.

“go ahead. fulfil your dare.” sarah chuckles, leaning back against the couch behind her.

“i can’t.” you whisper, smile slipping off your face. the couples hearts drop a few millimetres in their chest, thinking perhaps they’d made you uncomfortable and soiled the whole thing. the blonde girls eyebrows furrow, leaning forward and scooching to sit directly infront of you.

“why? are you okay? i’m— i’m sorry—”

“no i’m okay,” you let out an airy laugh that relieves everyone. “maybe i’m just drunk but i’m a little sensitive… don’t think i can sit n’hump this pillow without…” you trail off, your shame sending heat to your cheeks and behind your ears. john b raises his eyebrows slowly in expectation.

“without…?”

you clench your thighs around the pillow, mortified, looking down at it before back up at him with puppy dog eyes and your teeth tucked over your bottom lip all sheepish. made him wanna finger you until you cried.

luckily, sarah’s face lights up with slow realisation, mouth forming an ‘o’ and eyes widening.

“without cumming?” she cooes before swivelling around to look at both boys, laughing in adoration. “aww, you’re sensitive! i didn’t even… know that was a thing!” she beams, and the boys follow, teeth glinting in the low light like hungry hyenas in a cave.

you loosen up a little, shoulders visibly relaxing and you giggle. “yeah… s’just quite a… firm pillow. pressing me in all types of places.” you shrug, girlishly.

“are you seeeeeeriously tellin’ me, that you can’t move back and forth just a little?” jj chuckles, dumbfounded from behind you and you peer shyly over your shoulder with a humble shrug. you wasn’t sure if they were to be making fun of you, but for some odd reason — based off vibes alone, your sensitivity felt like something to be proud of amongst the group. jj licks his lips.

when you turn back, sarah’s in your face again, her warm hands on your knees. she seems comfortable, so you relax into her touch. you notice john b watching the interaction before locking eyes with you and sipping out his beer bottle.

“okay well, a dares a dare, but if you really need someone to help you out…” she giggles, hands sliding up to your hips before she begins to forcefully tug you back and forth — leaving you no choice but to let her make you hump this pillow infront of everyone.

your hands fly to her shoulders to stabilise yourself, sucking in a shaky and unsure gasp as the seams in the fabric repeatedly catch over your clit through your thin panties. the music playing out the speaker seems to get louder, or maybe the blood is just pumping in your ears as the boys let out little encouraging cheers as they chuckle and continue to drink.

sarah tilts her head, hot breath on your jaw as she lowers her voice to something quiet and seductive for just you to hear, her hands now grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you along. “there you go, keep riding it. just like me in that video, right?” she croons, and your brows furrow — unable to stop the pornographic moan from leaving you.

embarrassed at the delighted reactions, you hide your face in sarah’s neck, hot and disorientated from the pleasure, hearing her amused chuckle close up. “its just us, nothing at all to be embarrassed about.” she shrugs against you. “can’t run from the dare, sweetie. jj, you wanna come up behind her and give her a hand?” she asks, and before you can lift your head — her hands have slid up your top, squeezing at your tits.

your hips aren’t left alone for long though, as jj straddles the long pillow right behind you and grips your hips, tugging them back and forth with a boyish roughness that had the fabric scraping against you in a new way. you whimper uncontrollably, feeling the blondes stiff crotch thumping against your backside each time he yanked you back.

“yeah-he-heahh, that’s the stuff. don’t tell me i never do anythin’ for ya babydoll. teachin’ you the valuable lesson of gettin’ off right now.” he drawls in your ear, his body heat making your back arch.

amidst this, john b carries the same cool and collected energy. he leans against the couch as he keeps his eyes on yours, taking another sip of his beer before reaching out and taking your hand in his to gently soothe over your knuckles when you announce in a panic that they were going to make you cum.

“thaaaats it,” he hums, voice bassy and delicious enough to make you hold onto every word, thighs clenching painfully. “riiiiide it out.”

something about his nonchalance made you believe it was perhaps his idea, and not sarah’s like you previously believed.

[hiddenreamers]

I was in your music video - f1 drivers x singer!reader

SUMMARY: They say that if a poet loves you, they will write you into immortality. But if you date a musician, they might write you into the Billboard 100. Which is exactly what happens to your driver boyfriend.

Featuring: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz Jr, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell

Note: Yes, two songs are sung by male artists. Yes, I'm going to ignore that fact and you should, too.

Lewis Hamilton

He's been in the room maybe five times. The space always felt strangely sacred to him - this is where you write, compose and practice songs with your band; this is where the magic, so to speak, happens. Walls are absolutely covered with tour posters, polaroids and printed-out articles. There's a large mirror that seems to be a message board considering all the sticky notes and words written with a marker. The only somewhat de-cluttered space is surrounding the setup. It's an unspoken testament to being a musician in a band.

There's a certain tension inside the driver. You've never asked him to listen to a song before it's finished. Sure, he has listened through your albums before they were officially released but it was always just that - a recording, not a live version. So what's different this time? Why is it vital he hears this song early?

Walking through the room, Lewis has to carefully watch where he's going. He doesn't want to accidentally break something by stepping on a cable or kicking a box with unknown contents. Inside a garage, he knows what not to touch but a recording studio and instruments are pretty much an unknown world to him.

Lewis is standing around a tad awkwardly, hands in pockets, when the bassist pushes a big black box closer to the driver.

"Have a seat." The musician points to the chest.

Lewis frowns. "On the box?" he asks, unsure. "Is that okay?"

"It's the Lucky Chest, Hamilton," the bassist announces. The other band members snicker at the title. "You have to sit on it."

"What's lucky about it?" Lewis inquires. More than the seating choice, he's interested in the reason for laughter.

"The first time we played at a big festival," the guitarist begins, her story slightly interrupted by her tuning the guitar, "we were sitting on it and listening to Green Day's stage, wondering 'how the fuck are we supposed to play after them?'."

"We were doing like a punk-rock tribute thing," adds the drummer. He's adjusting his seat and judging by the constant up-and-down movement, he can't make up his mind. The process is finally over when he reaches to tap the high-hat and nods to himself, content.

"After we finished our set," you take over retelling the story, "Billy Joe Armstrong came up to us and said we did great."

"So now it's the Lucky Chest," concludes the bassist.

Perhaps it's another testament to being a musician in a band when multiple people together tell one story without cutting details or creating chaos. A true harmony, though a joke a little on the nose.

"Well, I'm honoured," Lewis says. An airy giggle escapes him as he's still thinking about how easily teamwork comes to you and your band.

"You should be." The guitarist points her finger at him in a joking but accusatory way. Then she looks over her shoulder. "Whenever you're ready, drummer boy."

Music fills the room and Lewis is instantly captivated by you. He noticed it the first time he saw you on stage, how something inside you changes the moment you hear the instruments playing. Intensity, fire - passion in its most primal form. But this time around, the look in your eyes is different. You're no longer looking at the audience but him specifically; instead of singing a song, you seem to be telling him something.

So he listens.

I'm a desert, you're an ocean It's your motion that I need Without you I am broken, left to thirst out in the heat

And how strange he suddenly feels: all of the sentiments he already knows but now that you've put them into words for the whole world to hear, he can't help but find some revelation in them. For a moment, there's only the two of you and your confession of desire. Every word resonates with him and Lewis feels like he could say all of those things about you, too.

The song is far from over but he has already decided - he will listen to it before every race.

Lando Norris

Nothing seemed different about that day.

Lando is streaming while you're still at the studio. In an hour or so, you will come back, he will end the stream and the two of you will sit down to eat something. You will talk about your day, he will say something silly and both of you will laugh. Just like you always did.

To his credit, Lando couldn't have known about the song because you never told him. Some part of you thought it would be a bit dramatic to announce that you've written a song about him but can't play it yet because it's not finished. It would spoil the fun, wouldn't it? Therefore, you decided to tell Lando only after he listened to the final product. Perhaps you also wanted to seem a lot more nonchalant about the whole thing, planning on giving him just an off-hand comment of "oh, by the way, this one's about you". Life, however, rarely turns out the way we plan and that's exactly what happened that night.

If it was just one or two people calling Lando "honeybee" on the stream, he probably wouldn't even notice. But even he will pay attention when the comments are going on hundreds if not thousands.

He can't help but grow flustered at the pet name born out of his visceral fear of insects.

"Who told you that?!" he yells in a comically angry tone, a poor attempt at hiding embarrassment.

The comments come flooding again, explaining the situation only in variations of your name and the title Espresso. And like a detective following a crime, Lando immediately searches the internet.

"I feel lied to," he speaks up. "She didn't tell me she has a new song coming out. Why am I the last one to know? When I literally live with her? This is so unfair, I'm obviously the biggest fan, I should know first!"

Lando plays the music video. From the first line of "he's thinking about me every night", his bashfulness only gets worse. What starts as an excited smile, grows into a flustered, giggly mess. Although his pride is on the line, he can't deny any of the claims you make in the song. Yes, he couldn't sleep one night thinking about you and texted you about that. Yes, he does call you often even though he hates making phone calls. And yes, Lando Norris is, in fact, wrapped around your finger. What a horse is everyone can see and similarly, everyone can see and define who Lando is when it comes to his girlfriend:

"Simp?" he reads one of the comments. "Look, maybe I am but at the end of the day I'm dating her and you're not so who's the real loser here?"

Lando can only laugh his heart out when the chat gets flooded with identical comments: You.

"Okay, I admit. I'm down bad for my girlfriend and I'm proud of that."

Tomorrow's headlines are bound to be interesting...

Oscar Piastri

Although Oscar has seen you in musicals countless times, this situation feels a lot weirder and more uncomfortable. When he comes to watch your show, he's in the audience and you're on the stage. Now you're sitting side by side on the couch in your shared apartment, about to see your first movie. You're both the audience and the creator, which leaves you unsure how to act.

Unfortunately, your discomfort only grows. Oscar seems to be enjoying the movie but joy is not granted to you on this day. With each minute, you know your big part is coming. Oh God, what is he going to think?

Then, you suddenly pause the film. Oscar looks at you confused.

"There's something you need to know before you watch this scene and listen to the song," you say before he can ask you about your strange actions.

Oscar's frown only deepens. "You're making it sound really serious."

"Because it is. The thing is... " you hang your voice, unsure how to put words together. How do you tell someone this without making things awkward? "This is more embarrassing than I thought it would be but the song you're about to hear, I wrote it thinking about you."

He's trying to smile but the shadow of embarrassment on his face doesn't go unnoticed. You can only hope it's good kind of nervous.

The movie is resumed. As your discomfort is barely tolerable, you're looking away from the TV, fidgeting ever-so-slightly. Once or twice, you glance at Oscar, trying to see his reaction. The problem is, he's sitting unbelievably still. True, Oscar Piastri tends to be on the calmer side but right now it feels off. As if lost deep in thought, he appears to be diligently contemplating the scene in the movie; picking apart the words that came to your mind while thinking about him.

When the song comes to an end, you pause the film once more. A tense silence falls between you and Oscar, both longing to say something and yet neither willing to.

"So?" you begin hesitantly. "What do you think?"

Oscar shifts awkwardly. "Erm... I don't really know what to say."

A nervous giggle escapes your lips. "It's really sappy, I know." You try to downplay the situation, fearing that his reaction is born out of something negative. Does he think you're clingy? Obsessive? Too dramatic to handle?

"It's not that," he quickly denies. "Well, okay, it is kind of sappy but it's good sappy?" Oscar's tone raises slightly, revealing that he's unsure whether it's the right choice of words.

"Good sappy?" you repeat.

It feels as though woe has weaved a nest inside your viscera. "Good sappy" sounds like a lovely, diplomatic euphemism used not to hurt someone's feelings.

"Yeah, it's just..." Oscar doesn't finish his sentence. He runs his hand through his hair, then rubs the back of his neck nervously. Finally, he looks at you but not in a way you're familiar with. There's something ethereal in his gaze, a glint of inexplicable emotion that would escape a less observant eye. "It's really beautiful," he says. "The fact that you feel this way about me?" You could swear there are tears in his eyes as he lets out a flustered giggle. "I can die happy now."

Carlos Sainz

As old tradition entails, the Thursdays before a race weekend are meant for golfing. And who is Carlos Sainz to not give in to the custom?

He's sitting in his car, impatiently ploughing through the traffic of the city centre. Why are people out and about at this time, anyway? Shouldn't they be at work? Wanting to get his mind off of the fact that he's going to be quite late to the game, Carlos turns on the radio. The man is mindlessly skipping through the stations until something catches his attention - the announcer introduces you as today's guest.

"Hello again, pretty girl," Carlos says to himself. A small smile enters his face.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you," the radio host begins. "Unfinished Business is just the album I've been waiting for this year. And not only me! Have you seen Billboard 100 lately?"

Your flustered giggle is just as adorable as always. "Yesterday evening, I think?"

The broadcaster sighs dramatically. "Then you have ancient news. I have the site pulled up now and check it every few minutes. Let me tell you, Unfinished Business has climbed twenty spots since morning."

"Oh, shoot."

"Indeed." The announcer laughs and Carlos does with him. It's such a familiar theme for the driver - you being more humble than you really should be, surprised by the success you entirely deserve.

"Now, to address the elephant in the room or rather on the music charts. Over and Over Again is like a love letter all of us have written but never sent. Tell me all about it!"

"I guess 'love letter' is a pretty good description," you explain. Curious, Carlos turns up the volume. "For some time, I was trying to put my thoughts together and tell someone how I felt but never could quite do it. I can write good songs but in real life, I'm pretty terrible at speaking my mind and talking about feelings. I just don't want people to misunderstand, you know?"

"What are you saying, hermosa?" Carlos asks aloud, although there's no one to answer him.

"At least you can write a song about it! We regular folk are stuck with memes and playlists."

"Thank God, I can!" You laugh and, as embarrassing as it may sound, Carlos feels a sudden warmth spreading through his chest. "I was struggling with saying what I wanted to say to him, so at some point, I just decided I could put those words and feelings into a song. He likes to listen to the radio when he's driving so he might even be listening right now."

Although nothing bad or negative is going on, Carlos feels himself growing tense, nervous. There's no doubt the "he" you keep mentioning is him but what exactly is it you've been trying to tell him? Is there something he's missing?

"Did you tell him you've written a song about him?" the radio host asks.

"It might have slipped my mind," you answer coyly.

The announcer only laughs. "Oh dear, what a way to find out! Without further ado, let's hear your love letter to the mysterious man. I really hope he's listening to us right now. Don't you dare change the station, you lucky guy."

To his own surprise, Carlos recognizes the melody - you've been humming it for weeks now. But as you begin singing, the words leave him in disbelief. Do you really... mean all of that?

Carlos is lost in the song, feeling as though the lyrics aren't just lyrics but your genuine confession; a true love letter, as you have said yourself. He's brought back to reality only when the car behind him honks and Carlos is a hair's breadth away from picking a fight with the other driver. Nothing requires more haste or attention than his girlfriend exclaiming to the whole world that he will always be the one for her and that she will love him over and over again.

Charles Leclerc

You don't hear Charles coming in - you're too lost in your own thing to remember there's an entire world outside of the song and the piano in front of you. On the other hand, Charles doesn't announce his arrival as he doesn't want to disturb you. To be perfectly honest, he's a little too curious to interrupt you. It happens very rarely that you practise outside of the studio and so Charles doesn't really get to hear your more casual singing, not an embellished performance for the audience.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way towards you. Charles casually leans against the doorframe, your back turned to him as you continue playing the piano. He barely bites back the smile that creeps onto his face whenever you effortlessly sing the high notes - they are difficult for professionals and yet you execute them so cleanly, they appear almost too easy.

The lyrics haunt him but in a truly delicious way. A particular note of sincerity in your voice makes the words stick to him like rain does to a reckless passerby. Sure, they will slip away, although not before drenching him; their vital piece will forever lie with him.

When the song comes to an end, Charles (without thinking twice) gives you a hefty applause. The surprise makes you almost fall off the chair.

"Shit, you scared me!" you yell at him. It takes a couple deep breaths and your boyfriend's apologies, to collect yourself. "How much did you hear?"

He shrugs, suddenly realizing that he wasn't supposed to hear even one note of the song. "Pretty much all of it."

Your expression must not be joyful as Charles resumes his apologies and poor attempts at excuses. Suddenly, you cut him off. "How'd you like it?"

For a moment, he only hums and mindlessly knocks at the doorframe, looking for the right words.

"I loved it," he confesses. A strange tension in his voice proves he's telling the truth. "It's a beautiful song."

"Good," you answer absentmindedly. Quietly, you nod to yourself before looking back at Charles, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "It would really suck if you hated a song about yourself, you know?"

His eyes grow wide and Charles seems to forget about blinking for a good minute. Judging by the changes in his expression, you can tell the exact thought process he's experiencing: realizing you've written a song about him, joy caused by that, remembering the lyrics and finally taking them personally.

The more observant fans might notice a new addition to his helmet: "Claire de Lune" written in elegant lettering.

George Russell

Common sense might tell you that a race car driver must have no fear. And that would be correct, although quite imprecise. They must have no fear on track, yes, but daily life is quite different from racing, isn't it? Or maybe George is discovering a range of emotions he has not known before.

Your relationship is fresh but that isn't to say it's not serious. The weight of the connection the two of you share is a major part of the reason why George has been dead set on taking things slow. The other part is him knowing what media circus will play out once the news breaks. It's hard to blame him for wanting to keep at least some aspect of his life private, especially one that means so much to him.

As understanding as you are, George's apprehensiveness is tiring. You perfectly understand his reasoning and to some degree share the sentiment but at the same time, you are just somebody in love - you itch to scream it to the whole world. Or, at the very least, share a picture of the two of you. Both of you haven't been middle-schoolers for quite some time now, so why act like ones?

George, like the supportive boyfriend he is, loves to see you in your element. He watches the music videos, yet, but he much prefers the dance practice videos, where you're visibly enjoying each second of the choreography. Therefore, when you upload a new dance video for your song, he's probably the first person to play it.

It's a catchy tune that makes even the most boring people want to dance a little. With his head moving to the rhythm, George doesn't focus much on the lyrics until something in the second verse catches his attention:

So used to hiding We built our kingdom around The right timing

The lines, understandably, hit a little too close to home to be a pure coincidence. Now suspicious, George replays the video - this time, he's actually listening to the words instead of focusing on your dancing. Any hesitation that he's the true recipient of the song is gone with the first line of "Say you want me". The desperation in your voice is simply too candid to be just an act for the sake of the performance.

With the song loudly playing on a loop, George is scrolling through his phone's gallery in search of the best pictures of the two of you. He can't help but mouth the lyrics along with your singing, only to randomly giggle as the thought once again settles - it's about him.

Your phone can't stop vibrating. The notifications are coming nonstop. What on Earth happened? Upon opening Instagram, the mystery is solved. The internet seemed to be set on fire when George posted a series of pictures of the two of you with a caption that earned a giddy chuckle from you: "Setting us in motion".

Max Verstappen

Max and you both understand how much support can change. Sometimes just knowing that this other person is out there, watching and cheering, can change everything. As such, the two of you try to attend each other's events as much as you can. Unfortunately, the universe isn't always kind and you end up on the opposite ends of the world. The only support you can offer then is watching the live-streamed event - just like Max is doing right now.

He's sitting in his driver's room in Singapore, while you're at an award show in the USA. Quite the distance. There's something unbearably humbling about having to watch your performance like most of the world, when Max is, without a doubt, not most of the world.

In the back of his mind, Max is still thinking about the conversation he had with you earlier. Although he never misses your performances, you made it a point to tell him to watch this one. In your own words, he's supposed to look out for something fun, like a detail that will make this show different from the others. So as though he is a hawk, or more of a vulture, Max is hyperanalizing everything that's happening on the screen. He's not about to miss your little surprise.

The song begins and as much as he wants to enjoy watching you in your element, Max is a missile on a mission. Nothing specific seems to catch his eye but that t-shirt you're wearing...

Max knows it all too well. Theoretically, it's his t-shirt but considering you wear it more often than he does, it's practically yours. Now it's styled to fit the concept and image of your bandmates but the colour, the logo, the number, are all unmistakeable. Considering how much you're touching the article of clothing, compared to other dancers, he's convinced he's found what he was meant to look for.

Before he can wonder why you've chosen to wear his t-shirt for your performance, it's you who gives him the answer through the lyrics:

I feel like for the first time I am not faking Fingers on my buttons and now you're playing Master of anticipation, don't you keep it all to yourself

Max Verstappen doesn't get flustered but if he did, he'd be beyond flustered right now. The realization hits him like a derailed train - the song that everyone has been obsessed with through the summer and that has pretty obvious sexual lyrics is actually about him.

And if he did get flustered, the emotion would be rather short-lived, giving way to pride. After all, the core meaning of the song is that he's a generous lover, right? Clearly, he's been taking good care of his girlfriend.

Now, each sung line of "Just the touch of your love" makes Max all the more frustrated that the two of you are so far apart. He's earned his title of "Master of anticipation" and he intends to keep it.