#kid mark

[evelynismahnameboi]

Matt and Mark used to be friends until Edd had to declare his rivalry with Eduardo to the public.

[yuutaguro]

[papamin au 🐅] getting taller,,,📏

[akanemnon]

Yeah, Kris is definitely NOT alright.

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[girl-drink-drunk]

you would fuck that old man. i would fuck that old man. we are the same. hold my hand

[subaru-copilot]

the possibility of Oscar Piastri becoming more and more like Vettel is so funny to me, Mark Webber you will never be free I'm so fcking sorry

[gingerswagfreckles]

[callmeizukunotdeku]

I was a kid with a Hunger Games hyperfixation and, from time to time, I'll get reminded of the books. With Trump's inauguration and the TikTok ban and unban, I can't stop thinking about a political tactic called panem et circenses, or bread and circuses.

In Mockingjay, Collins writes "'It’s a saying from thousands of years ago, written in a language called Latin about a place called Rome,' he explains. 'Panem et Circenses translates into "Bread and Circuses." The writer was saying that in return for full bellies and entertainment, his people had given up their political responsibilities and therefore their power.'"

In Collins' world, the Hunger Games was the entertainment. In ours, it's social media. Twitter, Meta, TikTok, are all controlled by political powers. Musk, Zuckerberg. TikTok is owned by Yiming and Rubo, but with the ban and unban, the content it shows in America is filtered to fit Trump's political agenda.

It's entertainment at the cost of information.

[team--charlotte]

at any given moment

[thorsonoflesbians]

for the monaco gp next year instead of the regular commentators can we have like ten retired drivers on a yacht with copious amounts of alcohol instead? like imagine jenson feeding nico multiple rounds of tequila shots and convincing him to drop brocedes lore so fucking insane it makes lewis' spidey senses tingle live on air. meanwhile, seb is trying to stop kimi from falling off said yacht every five seconds and mahk webbah is trying to either rope everyone into karaoke or is gushing about his adoptive son oscar. david is calling every driver who fucks their car into a wall a cunt and mika is on facetime with his husband and sipping a mai-tai in the hot tub and a least one of them is puking off the side of the boat in the end

[a11eya]

“Who did this to you?”

Bakugou’s voice is low, dangerous. His eyes are sharp as they stare at you.

“What?” You blink rapidly at him.

After a year of being friends with Bakugou, you’re used to him frequently being at some level of pissed off or annoyed.

But you’ve never seen him look so angry. Like he could tear the world apart.

“This.”

You’re not prepared when Bakugou reaches up to angle your chin towards him, your breath catching as his calloused fingertips grip against your skin. He brushes his thumb, feather-light, against your cheekbone. It’s then you remember the bruise there.

“Oh! I had a practice bout with one of the new kids at our gym. He got in a lucky punch but hit me a little too hard. He’s still learning,” you say.

You smile at Bakugou and raise your hand to pat his, the one cupped against your cheek.

“Don’t worry, Bakugou. It looks worse than it actually is.”

Bakugou grunts. You expect him to step back, let go.

But he’s still, gaze locked on your face, thumb brushing back and forth against your skin like it doesn’t send shivers through your entire body, like it doesn’t make your face feel like the surface of the sun.

Nervous about his intense attention, you bite your bottom lip. Bakugou’s eyes drop to track the movement and stick there.

You can’t breathe. Is he…?

The sound of distant footsteps drawing nearer pops the bubble you’re in.

Bakugou pulls away. He doesn’t go too far, though, and because you’re so close, you can see that the tips of his ears are red, despite his neutral expression.

“Don’t box with that kid again,” he says, voice raspy, a little husky.

You swallow and nod before his words can process. Bakugou nods back, satisfied, before turning to walk away.

He’s halfway down the hallway before you come to your senses. Wait. You make a face.

“You’re not the boss of me!” you call at his retreating back.

He stops. Turns.

“What’d you say?” he asks, eyes narrowed at you, handsome face skewed into a scowl.

You know you should be intimidated, but. You think about the look in his eyes when he touched you. The heat of his palm.

So you just smile at him.

“You heard me.”

[chalkrub]

reminiscing about childhood books after that ask - all due respect to cool sleek movie toothless....but to me, he will always be a mean little gremlin

[moraent-keys]

Drawing red’s bull form from @kyri45’s shadowpeach bio parents au (kinda)

This was originally meant for the takeover but I started a bit too late haha

[nelsaqift]

me and my shadow knockoff

[metamatronic]

misc. sad doodle and follow up to this . poor cass had to watch her friends kill her dad and wasn’t sure if he’d even come back. oopsie. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[demigod-shenanigans]

POV: all members of the Lost Trio are queer and also idiots <3

Leo: I don’t pay attention to what other guys look like. That’s probably because I hang out with Jason! [cue description of Jason.] How will I ever get a girlfriend if he’s constantly hanging around me being all handsome and heroic?

Piper: I haven’t stopped thinking about Reyna since I met her in New Rome. Sure, Jason has repeatedly stated that he’s not romantically interested in her, but like. Reyna is literally perfect? She’s so beautiful and powerful? How would she not be on his mind all the time??

Jason: I met Cupid and one of the first things he asked me was if I was still doubting myself. My friend was outed and I’ve had an unshakable urge to tell him that I get how he’s feeling since. Also yes I still remember the outfit Leo was wearing when we met several months ago vividly. For no reason.

————

I have the book scenes for all of these btw. Just posting this version for now because the other post would be very long

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.

Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.

Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.

Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.

Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”

… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.

Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.

It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.

“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.

“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).

“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.

“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”

The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”

——

The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.

Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.

Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.

The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”

Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.

———

Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.