#regular blackouts by the end also

[cherspastries]

Cher!! I love your writing and you aesthetic so much :)

You’re a graphic designer yeah? What driver do you think would work well with a graphic designer reader, and on that note, what occupation do you think each driver’s s/o would have?

And do you do emoji anons? 👀 If so can I be 🫧?

I LOVE HER AS SHE IS,

DOING HER THING!

WORK IT!

2025 Grid x Reader

SUMMARY 𐙚 What jobs I think each driver’s girlfriend would have + how you first met.

WARNINGS 𐙚 Fluff, reader is described with feminine terms, mentions of alcohol / handling alcohol, not proofread

WORD COUNT 𐙚 6.3K

A/N 𐙚 Hi!! Tysm I love my theme, and yes I do accept emoji anons! Hello 🫧 !! Also, before I actually write, I love all the WAGs and respect their jobs, but I wanted to romanticize this a bit so… All the drivers are getting hypothetical new girlfriends with weird and interesting occupations and personalities

DIRECTORY | MASTERLIST | REQUESTS: OPEN

RedBull ෆ

Max Verstappen

Bartender

You cannot convince me this man isn’t always in need of a drink. Whether he’s celebrating or he’s upset, Max likes a good gin and tonic. Sure, he can make his own, but nobody makes it as good as his lovely girlfriend: a bartender. That’s right! He met you at a club in Monaco, of course. It was after he had won a grand prix, and he kept coming back for more and more alcohol until he was blackout drunk. You had to call him a cab home, and he kept mumbling about how beautiful and perfect you were. When he came back to retrieve his lost phone the next day, he apologized and properly asked you out.

But it’s also nice because Max’s favorite way to relax with you is to lay across the couch, drink in hand, and watching a show you both enjoy. He doesn’t want to overwork you, but if you offer to whip something up real fast, he’s definitely not going to say no to your hard work and encourage you to keep doing what you love. Side note, I genuinely think he loves being able to party at the club you work at. He loves getting to enjoy a night out, but also being able to visit you whenever he wants. His friends have stopped wondering where he’s ran off to after they found out who was behind the bar. They shouldn’t be surprised when he disappears every five minutes to go chat you up again. Sometimes regular patrons give him dirty looks because they think he’s hitting on you inappropriately, but then you flash the matching set of rings and they simmer down.

Yuki Tsunoda

Seamstress

I’ll be honest, I was unsure about this one, but I honestly think it makes a lot of sense. Yuki has really good style, so I had a feeling his partner should be related to fashion. However, seamstress was a bit of a stretch. I think you’d make a lot of clothes for him, which is why he has such great style to begin with. He’s wearing handmade, high quality patchwork hoodies and jeans and shoes that you decorated yourself, all made by you! So yeah, whenever someone compliments his very fitting form of fashion, he lets you know that the people are certainly admiring your work. Do we all remember when the internet went crazy over Yuki wearing his RedBull shirt unbuttoned? Yeah. All you.

He first met you when you were still just a fan. Some might argue the dynamic seems inappropriate, but you were never a huge fan of him specifically. Just… An F1 fan. You sewed shirts for the RedBull team, and they weren’t the typical tacky wear that the team usually received. These had lots of thought and enthusiasm put into them— He could only imagine how hard and how long you have slaved away making those, so he wore it with pride… Even if it was a tad bit too big. After that, he kept seeing you in the paddock, communicating with various engineers and drivers, collecting autographs like it was your job. He complimented your work, you introduced yourself, and the rest was history. So yeah, you ended up falling for the irresistible charm of Yuki Tsunoda, and honestly who can blame you?

Mercedes ෆ

George Russell

Graphic designer

Yes, okay. This is my line of work, and I honestly believe George would be the most supportive for a graphic designer out of everyone. I mean, he at least thinks he knows fashion and technology, so he assumes that he’s being helpful. I can see the two of you being high school sweethearts that pursued different paths, but stuck together. Of course you knew George was into racing at the time, because he was karting even back then, but you never expected him to reach such fame. He even managed to get to a job with the FIA, designing graphics for winners and podiums and such, so yeah. People have been silently appreciating your work for years. You’re the one who gets to see all the unused winner graphics.

Whenever you’re working on a project, you consult George. Even though half the time you don’t listen to his advice, it’s nice to get somebody else’s opinion and support. You know he’ll be honest instead of giving you that “it’s perfect the way it is” bullshit, so his unfiltered opinion is just what you need to get a sense of what the right direction might be. He used to sugarcoat it, but you eventually told him that his honesty wouldn’t hurt your feelings, and he started to be more open. Not that it was rude, because his opinions were still helpful and polite! He always tops it off with a kiss and a wish of good luck. He knows you’ll make the right decision.

Kimi Antonelli

Tutor

Alright. We all have fun joking about Kimi needing a math tutor, but what if he doesn’t. Because his girlfriend is one. You know? You’re still in school, just like him, so you make a lot of money by people paying you to help them out in classes. Yes, Kimi needs a nerd girlfriend I feel it in my SOUL. Now, contrary to popular belief, you actually don’t tutor him. Why? Because he gets distracted by you very easily. He can’t stop looking at your pretty eyes, your plump lips, and your soft hair. All he wants is to bury his face in your neck and lay on top of you 24/7/365, because you’re so soft and warm. So no, you don’t tutor him. You can’t tutor him. You’ve tried. You’ve failed.

He brings you to the Imola Grand Prix, happily showing you off and introducing you to all of his track mates with that huge boyish grin. He tells them all that you’re just his tutor, and that afterwards you’ll be in his drivers room teaching him the pythagorean theorem (which he doesn’t even know how to pronounce in any language, mind you, so he’s just stumbling over syllables to get the idea out.) You correct him and politely let them know you’re actually his girlfriend. They all tease him, insisting that this whole story was just an excuse to sneak you into his room for a cheeky make out session, which you both quickly deny with flushed cheeks and slight stutters. Looks like he’s been caught before he could even try.

Ferrari ෆ

Charles Leclerc

Fashion designer

Now this isn’t to say that Charles doesn’t already have good fashion sense, because he definitely does. However, I do think that after the two of you started dating, there was a noticeable change in his choices. He started to dress in a manner that was suitable to his… Well, everything. He had custom made clothes with logos pertaining to him on them, everything matched his face and body shape, and he was dressed to an absolute T. All thanks to you! He doesn’t even have to ask, you just quietly sketch up designs for jackets and shirts that he can proudly show off at races, and you’ve even helped him customize merch that is both affordable, and fits the aesthetic of most of his fans. Goodbye trashy t-shirts with a logo lazily slapped on, and hello well thought out designs.

You were definitely hired to design some of his merch after the team saw your concept sketches. He was completely clueless to your arrival, but once he saw you he knew there was something irresistible that surrounded you. Your aura was undeniably attractive, and you were a genius when it came to your job. Of course. He loved your sense of fashion, so Charles discreetly asked you out to go get coffee and discuss things some more. Except, the two of you ended up talking and laughing the entire time, so of course you had to reschedule. And then you had to reschedule again because the same thing happened. Then finally you realized what he was doing, and asked him out on an official date. From then on, he proudly showed you off as his girlfriend. No more hiding!

Lewis Hamilton

Makeup artist

Yes, both of the Ferrari boys have their fashion girlfriends. I think if they existed in the same universe they’d be really good friends, too. I think Lewis loves to listen to you rant about different qualities of makeup, and how different makeups can affect break-outs on skin, and how to prevent all that. There’s a lot that goes into your line of work, and he never gets tired of hearing it. I think his favorite thing is hearing you talk about different color palettes and how you decide what colors suit a client best. You’ve definitely done similar things on him, and he stays true to your advice and tries to mix those colors in to his outfits. He also refuses to hire anyone but you to do his makeup for events, and he brings you everywhere he can. Trust that you were attached at the hip during the Met Gala, and that he was announcing to everyone he met that you did his makeup, and how talented you are. Watch out because you’re gonna have so many clients coming your way.

Unlike Charles and his girlfriend, you were not hired to work for him when you met. It was actually more of a meet cute— He was asking for advice in your local beauty shop, because he figured you looked like you knew what you were doing and could tell him what the correct shade of blush was for his niece, who was clinging to his side. You were in awe because holy shit, the Lewis Hamilton was asking you for advice, which you gave while stammering to an embarrassing extent. He thanked you, and asked for your number with the excuse that he might need more advice in the future. You did not hesitate to give it to him, and while he didn’t call for advice, he did call to ask you out properly. Your dynamic is very much so “girlfriend who knows a lot about fashion and boyfriend who pretends not to so he can hear her ramble.”

McLaren ෆ

Oscar Piastri

Food critic

Oh yes, the two of you are most certainly bonding over a shared love of food. Oscar Piastri doesn’t present himself as a foodie, but it’s more of a hidden pleasure of his. I won’t lie, when you first mentioned your occupation he thought it was somewhat funny. Reviewing food for a living seemed like something simple. He took it at the base level ideation and assumed that’s all it was. However, when you got really invested with talking about it, Oscar was quick to learn there was so much more. You discussed about different types of recipes, and methods when it came to baking. You ranted about cuts of meat and how each one had its own taste. With your influence, he quickly became quite the enthusiast himself. So, every time you guys went to a restaurant, you both ordered something entirely new to compare and contrast to past dishes. It was fun getting to try new things with you.

When you first met, it was in a restaurant. One of those crowded places where you ended up shoulder to shoulder with a random stranger because of how busy it was. For you, that random stranger ended up being famous racer Oscar Piastri. Although it was awkward at first, you sparked up soft chatter about the meal. He told you he was having the same thing he always did: pasta. You explained your meal, which was exotic to the both of you. When you expressed your disinterest in the taste he teasingly asked what made you so qualified to comment on such a thing. That’s what he found out. Intrigued by your charm, and your passion for all things food, Oscar couldn’t help but ask for your number.

Lando Norris

Teacher

Lando, in my firm opinion, is fantastic with children. He’s a little immature himself, which gives him that natural charm that makes getting along with children easy. He has no troubles throwing on that enthusiastic tone that lights their brains up. One morning in particular, Lando’s dear friend Max had a huge favor to ask of him: Take Penelope to school. Kelly was out for work, and he was running a high fever, which meant ‘Uncle Lala’ was on duty for the day. Admittedly she was a little late, and she showed up with a smoothie from Lando’s favorite coffee shop and a brand new pair of shoes. While he’s good with kids, he’s terrible at saying no. He walked the young girl into her classroom, and he damn near lost his mind. You were perfect— radiant, kind, soft-spoken but not timid. The dream girl that mirrored him perfectly. Even though you playfully scolded them both for being late, all he could focus on was how beautiful you were.

From that day forward, Lando made it painfully clear that something was up. He offered nearly everyday to take Penelope to school, which Max and Kelly would not complain about. She always returned with a huge grin on her face, recommending that her uncle take her again because he was so fun. However, when she started talking about the flirty comments he’d exchange with her teacher, they realized why he was suddenly taking an interest in the life of their child. Lando loves hearing about your day and listening to the various interactions between the kids in your class. He’s smitten with you and your ability to flawlessly interact with children— Unfortunately this means your relationship is destined to be filled with baby fever from you both. 24/7.

Aston Martin ෆ

Fernando Alonso

Wedding planner

As expected, you meet at the wedding of a mutual friend. You planned everything from the venue to the number of flowers in each arrangement, and both the bride and groom were eternally grateful for your help. It was always much easier to have someone else do a majority of the planning for you while you got to sit back and nod along to every suggestion made. In short, your efforts paid off immensely. When you sat down at your assigned table, you were surprised to see the Spanish man in question not far behind you. He seated himself across from you, reaching a hand out to shake yours politely. He was charming right off the bat, his flirty comments flowing with ease. You almost wondered if you were intentionally set up to sit beside this guy, because your fun-loving personalities matched up nicely. He matched your vibe and you matched his.

Now you were going 20 years strong, each anniversary celebrated more profound than the last. You were teased nonstop by friends and friends of friends about the lack of a ring on your finger. “Twenty years and he still hasn’t made it permanent?” was something you heard more often than you were willing to admit, but in all honesty, neither of you were interested in the concept of marriage. Your love was all you needed to seal the deal. You didn’t require a fancy ring to know that. But finally, after years and years of waiting, Fernando dropped down to one knee to give you the opportunity to finally plan your own damn wedding, and you happily accepted. You harbored no anger towards his decision to wait, because ultimately it made the experience a lot more special. You finally got to be on the other end of things and understand firsthand why people hire you to begin with: Planning your own wedding is not all it cracks up to be.

Lance Stroll

Author

Lance needs the peace and quiet that an author girlfriend brings to his life. He’s a well known introvert, which has yet to go unnoticed by anyone that he’s met. Lance prefers to keep to himself, and tends to distance from individuals who are overly loud. While opposites tend to attract, such an ideal is not the case for this fellow. He dreams of a romantically quiet life, and you’re there to fulfill that for him. You meet in the most cliche spot possible: a library. He’s not even that big on reading, but the spot was quiet and it gave him an excuse to brood in a corner and listen to music. You happened to be doing a book signing that day, which made the joint just a tad bit louder than he would have liked. However, when he saw you sitting at a table with a line extending outside the door, a cute smile on your face… Lance was utterly captivated. Your voice was low, your smiles were awkward, and your hands were trembling. Maybe it was weird, but that was everything he yearned for and more. When people started to clear and you started to pack up, he made a move.

Safe to say that said move was successful. The early stages of the relationship were less than ideal with both of you waiting on the other person to initiate every single thing, but finally you warmed up to each other and fell into a comfortable rhythm with your everyday lives. He cherished the days where he came home from loud engines and bustling crowds to the soft clicking of your keyboard, and the occasional flipping of pages. At the end of the day, no matter how stressful things get, Lance will always be grateful for the safety of your warm embrace as you hold him close to you at night. You’re his rock and his anchor, keeping him safe from the extroverts of the world. The media finds the two of you to be the ideal celebrity couple. Matching aesthetics, personalities, and beliefs. Your relationship is private, but it’s far from a secret!

Alpine ෆ

Pierre Gasly

Social media manager

I thought I was funny for this. You’re not a very good manager, because you’re always sitting there beside him, giggling at every post he scrolls by that’s related to him. With that being said, you always reach out and double tap the screen, liking whatever stupid thing had you guys giggling to begin with. So, to the people who wonder why Pierre is always liking every F1 related post, it’s actually your doing. You’re less focused on your actual job, and more on whatever content other people have managed to come up with. It’s really funny, in your defense. You guys first met because you were hired as the Alpine social media manager, but you always ended up laughing just a tad bit too much with Pierre over your ridiculous ideas that he kept building on to. Half the time you barely were able to execute said ideas, and ended up going with something entirely different.

Pierre loves that he found someone to match his energy and be okay with his teasing, along with tease him back. You’re fun— sometimes even more fun than him. Everyone in the paddock would agree. He loves filming videos and taking pictures with you for social media pages, and he loves even more than you get a little bit more freedom with his personal account and have directly spiced up all of his most recent content. Pierre fans have been wondering why most of his stuff has been a lot more enjoyable. Little do they know, you’re quietly working your magic behind the screen. Sorry Pierre, you get no credit. Although, having a hilarious muse does make it much easier.

Franco Colapinto

Florist

With this little flirt, knowing a lot about flowers actually proves to have some value. Franco’s always going out of his way to impress you: fact. He loves bringing home flowers, especially after triple headers, or just generally weekends that felt extra long without you right there beside him. It’s a new bouquet every time. While it is handpicked and arranged by him, it’s safe to say that Franco actually has no clue what he’s doing; his decisions are based off the initial beauty level of the flower. But, we can’t rule out that he intentionally picks randomly, because he does seem to love hearing you lecture him about flower language. He’s got roses being romantic burnt into his memory, but he can’t quite remember that yellow carnations are supposed to mean rejection. He does remember your face the day you brought them home, though, so he decides based on that. You sounded so sad as you explained the initial idea, and Franco was quick to make something up. So now, you guys decided they meant the love of Franco Colapinto— Yeah. He got his own damn flower.

You, as expected, had a meet cute as well. It came straight from a tacky hallmark movie. You had simply been arranging your outdoor stand one day, when a particularly fast biker flew by, clipping the edge of your stand and sending flowers flying through the air. You were devastated to see your hard work flying through the air and drifting away from you. Thankfully, one kind passerby stopped to help you pick up the lost work. He was handsome in his own, unique way. Somewhat familiar, you were sure. He laughed with you as he helped you set things back up, dropping a few flirtatious remarks that had your cheeks growing increasingly warm. It wasn’t until he dropped a joke related to racing that you picked up on it and breathed out a rather distressed, “Oh my God you’re Franco Colapinto!” He barked out a laugh and nodded to confirm your suspicions. He insisted you take his number. You know, just in case you need help dealing with a runaway biker again. It had nothing to do with the fact he thought you were the most beautiful person alive. No, no way.

Williams ෆ

Carlos Sainz

Baker

Get this man a beautiful baker girlfriend who can make him all the sweets in the world. No, but I did have a thought process for this. First date, he still doesn’t quite know that you’re a professional baker, so he’s going on and on about his incredibly pancake recipe when you mention that it’s your favorite breakfast food. You have a recipe of your own, of course, but you’re intrigued by the way he seems so cocky with said recipe, so you let him make you some when you visit him. And honestly, they’re really quite good! You’re considering replacing your own recipe. You repay his kind offer by baking him sweets— and I mean you really got busy in that kitchen, because you’re probably about to hand over 10 large containers full of sweets with flushed ears that tell him everything he needs to know. He’s a little embarrassed that he was ranting about his tasty pancakes to someone who makes them professionally, but he was happy to hear you sincerely liked them.

Now imagine Carlos’ embarrassment when he recounts how the two of you met to begin with. After a long night, he stopped by a local café to pick up a pick-me-up. You were there, but you weren’t behind the counter. You were standing off to the side, leaning over it as you chatted to the barista with a cup of coffee in hand. He approached the register, and you both paused your conversation so said barista could assist him. When Carlos pondered on a dessert from the display case, you very casually suggested that he take a croissant with that ‘trust me’ sort of vibe. He teases you— asks you what makes you a master of breakfast pastries, and you just shrug nonchalantly and tell him that maybe you have ‘insider’ information. He assumes you’re a regular by now, and accepts your suggestion. He gets the croissant. And your number. And a first date… And the embarrassment of finding out way too late into your relationship that you’re the damn baker for the café. That was your insider info.

Alex Albon

Veterinarian

The more obvious choice, yes. While I was afraid this might be too on the nose, I think it makes a lot of sense, really. He has a lot of pets. What does a guy with a lot of pets often do? He takes them to the vet. Alex already takes great care of his pets, so this visit was a little out of the ordinary. His cat had fallen ill, and he needed to get the proper medicine to care for her. But there was you, the newest hire at the clinic who seemed so good with his pet. You gave her treats to keep her distracted as you checked her out, ensuring the man that this was just a common sickness and would pass, but if he wanted he could slip some allergy medicine into her food next time. He was forever grateful. But then, suddenly his pets were falling injured or ill left and right. A man who rarely visited the vet was now becoming a regular, always coming up with some sort of concern. “Doesn’t her leg look weird?” “Nope, looks good to me.” You eventually caught on, and told him that at a vet clinic there was no rules against dating clientele. Now, there was rules against dating patients, but that was because your patients were animals.

He works well with your nonchalant charm. You’re easygoing and laidback, and that’s just what Alex needs. He appreciates having someone he can chill with because his life is often so chaotic that it’s hard for him to take time for himself. Therefore, he has you now. Plus it’s always nice to no longer have to visit the vet when you can now just stop by his house for a quick check up. It becomes even easier when you move in with him, because instead of being worried he can just rely on you to tell him when things are wrong and need to be taken more seriously. All in all, he found an absolute keeper, and the internet won’t stop encouraging him to put a ring on it to ensure nobody else does. Although, not sure anyone needs a veterinarian quite like Alex Albon does. So, I think he’s safe for now.

Visa Cash App Racing Bulls ෆ

Liam Lawson

Actress

I like to think you actually met when filming the F1 movie. You’re a background support character in the film, and Liam was just there to play himself, much like all the other drivers. You two managed to bump into each other, and it seemed like day to day conversations started to take place. You’d share a joke you heard while standing behind him at the coffee making station, or catch him up on the latest set gossip in passing. He was charmed by your wit, and you were charmed by the way he cluelessly fumbled over words around you. Imagine how surprised he was when you asked him out. He felt somewhat disappointed because he had been hoping to have that honor for himself, but he was glad that you reciprocated his feelings.

I think Liam with an actress girlfriend just makes sense anyway. He’s all for the drama you bring to the table, and loves watching every single film you star in, whether it’s a big or small role. He’ll go to every premiere, red carpet, and gala you’re invited to as your plus one. Not only does he love to show his support, but he also realized early on that he gets to meet a lot of his own idols this way. You have lots of connections, and he now has a stack of autographs from famous celebrities at home. It’s a win-win.

Isack Hadjar

Photographer

Your first time meeting Isack was actually a little chaotic. The team hired you to shoot some shots from the first practice on Friday. It was experimental, because it was their first time hiring you, and it was your first time working for a huge company, let alone shooting athletic shots. When it started raining, you hadn’t even noticed. You were so focused on capturing everything perfectly, and with the right settings, that eventually you were completely drenched without a care in the world. It was really down pouring. Subsequently, teams were pulled in from the nasty weather to dry off and warm up. You, however, were still perched in the stands out in the rain, laser focused on your camera. Isack, ever the gentleman, came out with an umbrella and held it over your head. You hadn’t even realized he was there until you felt his shadow cast over you. You looked up, and nearly dropped your camera. You were stuttering all like “Oh- It’s- Oh no, it’s you- Gah, I’m so sorry!” Which only confused him more. You explained you were meant to be taking shots of his team today, but all the ones you got were bad. You were better with portraits. He was stunned by you too. You were beautiful, even with your wet hair plastered to your face and your clothes soaking wet. So, with red cheeks himself, he invited you in to take some portraits, which would hopefully give you a chance at staying with the team. And you did! Which then gave him enough time to work up enough courage to make a move.

You’re a little scatterbrained, it’s true. Every-time you come to the paddock, you’re in a panic as you ramble about how you accidentally left your SD card at home in your laptop, and that your whole reason for coming was now ruined because you didn’t have a way to take photos. Isack reassured you that missing one race wouldn’t be the end of the world. Besides, he ended up finding your SD card in your purse when you asked him to grab your phone. You’re lucky to have found him, because he certainly helps keep you grounded. You’d probably have floated off into space without Isack there to hold you down and keep you steady.

Kick Sauber ෆ

Nico Hülkenberg

Sommelier

You were evidently flawless at your job. You knew everything there was to know about wine, and all of its pairings with food. It was an elegant and refined drink to be saved for fancy events, much like the one you met your beloved at. Your relationship has been in the making for about three years now, and despite its… Awkward start, the two of you have been developing nicely. There was an event for F1 drivers hosted at a vineyard, and you were hired to take care of the wine: a rather simple job. Famous people weren’t a surprise to you anymore, but as you were sharing with your audience the history behind the drink you picked out, you felt your breath leave your body in an untimely manner. That was when he walked in, stealing away your attention. Salt and pepper stubble, a lazy smile, and an appearance that screamed ‘just woke up from a nap in the sun’ in the most endearing way possible. You, a normally charming and easygoing woman, were caught off guard and ended up muttering something stupid like “this wine is… fermented” followed by a nervous laugh, which cued your audience to chuckle along with you.

He teased you later. Of course he did, because how could he not notice the way you’d freeze as you quietly eyed him. When you were setting up glasses, he approached from behind, and you immediately turned around at the sound of his voice, which consequently sent one of the glasses flying. Nico, a man trained in his reflexes, caught it with ease that made your heart flutter. Thank God you managed to snatch him up, because nobody had ever made you feel such a way. It didn’t matter if he didn’t win on the track, because everyday he came home to the most beautiful woman possible, who’d shower him with lots of well deserved love. Plus, you always knew what wine would suit his mood. Yeah. He made the correct choice.

Gabriel Bortoleto

Streamer

We know how brain-rotted Gabriel is. You can’t tell me he doesn’t have a favorite streamer too. It’s you. Before you guys started dating he was a fan. He found your unique commentary on games to be interesting and the way you played— yada yada. Truth be told, he just thought you were pretty and funny. He even suggested through donations (under a secret account name, mind you) that you play one of the F1 games. With the money you earned from the donation, you bought it and showed the whole world just how awful you were. Gabriel secretly messaged you on instagram, claiming he had just found you when you were playing F1 24, and would love to come properly teach you how to play on stream. You agreed, of course. And it was a success. After the cameras turned off, he shyly admitted that he had actually been a fan of yours for awhile, because he felt bad for deceiving you. You just thought it was cute, and offered him the opportunity to come back if he so wanted.

Now, Gabi is a frequent feature on your streams. Not necessarily just as your partner in multiplayer games, but he can be seen on your face cam. Maybe he’s sleeping in the background, or he just happens to pass by. Sometimes he’ll even come give you a kiss in front of thousands of viewers, acting like he forgot you were streaming when in reality it was done intentionally. Sneaky bastard. Your fans love him, but Gabriel also loves to remind them that you’re a happily taken girl. You don’t mind anyway. It’s nice to see your longterm fanboy staking his claim in a way he thinks is secretive. Trust that you know… You always know what he’s up to. There’s no hiding it. Don’t be surprised if he starts spamming your chat with italian brainrot. Imagine having to explain to newcomers that it’s a regular thing, too.

Haas ෆ

Oliver Bearman

Artist

This is a pair nobody expected, to be honest. The Haas team was directed by PR to show up to an art event. Apparently the establishment was sponsoring them for the next race, and it was the polite thing to do. Oliver didn’t really care— He wasn’t a fan of PR events and media. He was outgoing and charming, but he tended to keep his life private for the most part. But he was glad he went, because when he saw you on a shaky ladder hammering in a stubborn nail with frustration, he knew you were someone to keep him on his toes. You had on overalls covered in paint. Some was fresh, but most of it seemed deeply imbedded in the fabric, like you wore them just to get them dirty. Your arms, too, were covered in colors. It was quite the sight. When you saw him, you dropped your hammer. Right on your foot, and then it tumbled down the ladder to fall unceremoniously on the ground. You hissed as you descended the ladder, jittery with excitement. You greeted him with a very enthusiastic handshake, announcing how you didn’t think he’d show up. You kept rambling, and he kept listening. Eventually you asked him if he could sit still, and he said yes, to which you replied with, “I wanna sketch you, then. You have this beautiful angelic vibe and I need that.” So, if that’s not forward I’m not sure what is.

It’s true. You’re his joy, and he’s your muse. And, for what it’s worth, Ollie was right. You certainly do keep him on his toes because he never really knows what’s next with you. You’re vibrant and fun and you love nature— The stereotypical small town girl who falls madly in love with a city boy. You like to run through tall grass barefoot and paint in the middle of giant fields whatever your heart desires, and now you’re dating Oliver Bearman. But it’s a good thing, because you both have changed each other in the best way possible, and even though you’re so different, you work harmoniously in a healthy relationship. You’re both happier than you’ve ever been, truly.

Esteban Ocon

Model

This man is TALL. He needs a tall girlfriend to sit by his side, and that just so happens to be you. You met at a huge gala for F1, where various other celebrities were invited to bring more attention to the sport. You’ve always been a fan, so you were glad to have the opportunity to meet a lot of the people you had admired for so many years. One of those people was Esteban Ocon. He was hated by his own community, regarded as one of the least likable people around, but you saw through that. This was a sweet guy with a bad reputation over one incident that took place many years ago. He was a bit surprised when you intentionally sat down beside him and introduced yourself with a huge smile and a delicate handshake. You were beautiful. It was almost too good to be true. He couldn’t let go of an opportunity like this, so he clung to you the entire night and asked if you’d be willing to see him again. Of course you would.

He supports your career through and through. He admires your skill, and all the thought that goes into modeling. It’s truly impressive. In turn, you support his racing career. You frequently feature his races, and while you do try to avoid the cameras, it’s impossible to not be featured when reacting on occasion. You have a loving dynamic— almost the perfect couple, and everyone in the paddock knows it. You’re the type of people to solve every disagreement by calmly talking it out. You’re the type of people to live by the rule “never go to bed angry.” You both get bad reps. In his community’s mind, Esteban is cruel and vicious and impossible to like. In your community’s mind, you’re stuck up and bossy and rude. So, together you make a perfectly misunderstood pair that understands one another. Delightful, right?

[sxcret-garden]

Ateez when they're jealous ღ NSFW Edition [M]

ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut, headcanons (dom-sub dynamics in some parts, semi-public sex in some parts, most of them get more or less possessive) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption in some parts

Author's note: Maybe I went a liiiittle overboard with this.... maybe I'm also very tempted to turn one of these into a full fic....

Hongjoong:

He's usually one to deal with his jealousy in a very adult manner and simply talk it out with you. However, after coming home jealous one day and having what was probably the best sex in your relationship up until that point, you've made an arrangement to deal with your jealousy in the bedroom. So it's really become more of a game to him than a pestering feeling to get rid of asap. And today as well, after you've spent a little too much time (in his opinion) having a very engaged conversation with the cute waiter of your regular place to get dinner, Hongjoong can't wait to get home and to drag you off to his bed. And that's exactly what he does, as you're filled with expectation because you didn't exactly miss the evil smirks he's been giving you throughout dinner, and you could guess what would be coming once you're home. He's moving slowly as he crawls on top of you, brushing his lips against yours in teasing kisses, and then telling you to strip naked for him. Will be the biggest little shit ever as he touches you in all the ways he knows will rile you up, and has you cursing underneath him when he pulls his fingers out of you just as you're about to cum. "You're gonna have to beg for it, babe," he whispers, licking his fingers clean. "I'm not gonna let you cum until I know you can't take it anymore."

Seonghwa:

Is so shocked when after weeks of suffering he finally figures out that seeing you with your male best friend makes him jealous, that he impulsively decides to get (almost blackout) drunk. What he forgot to consider was that you were scheduled to make dinner with him at his place, and so when you walk in on him having downed what's probably his third bottle of soju you're definitely mad at him. Wondering whether it'd even make sense to try to reason with your drunk boyfriend, you do eventually end up scolding him, but the second you're within reach he pulls you down onto his sofa, crawling on top of you. He's blushing from the alcohol, and usually you'd have found that cute, but today the cold stare he gives you makes you shiver. Worriedly, you ask what's wrong with him, and finally he explains. "I'm jealous. Like really jealous of your best friend. And drinking it away wasn't the best choice but right now I just need to make you mine." You're not sure if you should be impressed how in control he is for the amount he drank or if you should just be insanely turned on by his words, but when you give him permission with a nod it's not like he leaves you any time to think about this further anyway. Has you both naked in no time and pins you down as he fucks you rough, and if you think he'll be satisfied with giving you just one or two orgasms that night, you couldn't be more wrong.

Yunho:

Doesn't get jealous ever, except for that one time when you had only just started dating and were still in a bit of an awkward phase of figuring everything out together. Now usually he doesn't mind you going out to see your other guy friends, he has no reason to worry about that because he trusts you to never betray him. However, who he doesn't trust is that one guy who very obviously has a crush on you and he wouldn't put it past him to try to steal you away. And so he even went so far as to warn you about it, but you just brushed it off, defending the other guy and saying he's just a friend. And well, when one night your boyfriend witnesses how that guy drops you off at Yunho's place and he's being just a little too touchy before he hugs you goodbye, that's when the jealousy sets in. Needless to say he's upset when you walk inside, and not knowing what to do with that feeling, he simply kisses you. And it's a passionate kiss filled with need, the kind of kiss you've never received from your boyfriend up until that point. Yet he takes the lead, and soon he pushes you up against a wall, hands roaming your body and his lips nipping at your throat. "I don't ever want to see that guy touching you like that again," he mutters, rolling his clothed hard on against your hips, making you throw your head back. "You're mine and nobody else's." When he feels you going limp in his hold and all you can do is agree and whine at his touch, he takes you right then and there, proving to you that nobody could ever make you feel as good as he can.

Yeosang:

When he's jealous he needs reassurance above all else, especially towards the beginning of your relationship. The only problem is that he's kinda slow at figuring out that he's jealous, and so it's often you who picks up the cues before he does. And you know he tends to get sulky and avoidant when he feels bad but can't quite put his finger on why, so one day you decide to try to help him out of that. And so you approach him, telling him straightforward that you want to have sex with him. And pulling him out of his bubble takes a while of hesitation from his side, but when you take him by the hand to walk him to your bedroom, he doesn't protest. Crawling on top of him and making out with him, you wait until you can feel him somewhat relax underneath you. Your fingers of one hand tangled in his hair while the other roams his toned upper body has him melting underneath you, and just then you ask him whether he's jealous, in the sweetest tone you can muster. "I... I think so," he mumbles. "Do you need me to prove to you that I only want you?" you ask, and Yeosang nods. And you'd be surprised how quickly he can go from desperately clinging to you as you get him off slowly, humming praises for your boyfriend, to him flipping your positions around and with a "Sorry, I need this now" he starts thrusting into you, hard and slow. The pace as well as him suddenly taking charge of the situation makes you see stars, and his desperate but possessive groans could make you cum right then and there.

San:

Seems more helpless than anything else the second he comes back from picking up some takeout coffee for the both of you when he sees a complete stranger flirting with you, and you doing nothing to ward the guy off. And of course he'd be jealous at the sight, but he decides to play the tough guy for now, telling the guy off as he approaches. "Dude, what are you doing flirting with my girlfriend?" He puts an emphasis on his last word, and his voice sounds darker than usual. And though the stranger leaves immediately and you two continue your date as usual, something's off about San once you arrive home. Dragging you off to the bedroom by the sleeve of your shirt, he doesn't say anything and doesn't let you see his face right until he has you pinned to the bed, hovering above you and pressing a fiery kiss to your lips. Clothes don't stay on for long, and when he finally has his hips snapping into you, you have to slow him down from how rough he's being. "Fuck, that guy pissed me off," he mutters as he buries his face in your neck, leaving his mark there. When he has you coming undone underneath him, he doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you towards your next high, and your head starts to spin when you hear his next words, growled into your ear, "Don't ever flirt with another man again. Don't even look at someone else, or do you think anyone else could ever fuck you this good?"

Mingi:

Well if he isn't a wild card idk what. Gets jealous rather easily, and from him sulking like a kid to him taking charge and dragging you off to the nearest secluded space, anything could happen. It entirely depends on his mood that day, and a bit on the situation too. Mingi definitely needs you to comfort him if it's the former option, but the good news is that he'll be fine rather quickly after you assure him he has nothing to worry about. However, after you've been dating for a while and he's internalized that you're not gonna let someone else take you away from him, that helplessness soon turns into anger at whatever guy is flirting with you. And so one night when you're out with friends, all being a bit tipsy and this one guy just won't stop giving you all of his attention, Mingi eventually shoots up from his seat and drags you to the restrooms without an explanation. Kisses you feverishly after locking up the stall he entered with you, and only when you ask him what's wrong he gives you an explanation. "I don't like the way that guy looks at you. It pisses me off," he hisses, before going right back to kissing you. His hand finding your core underneath your clothes in no time, he starts fingering you, even teasing you about how you're already wet for him, and eventually he'll flip you around so he can grind his clothed bulge against your ass as he gets you off, relishing in the way you're desperately trying to suppress all noises.

Wooyoung:

Big switch energy so this can go one of two ways, but after the initial deep conversation you had about jealousy and how you can trust each other despite that feeling sometimes arising, the one thing that's for sure is that you're gonna resolve it with sex.  Even when the jealousy is barely even there, just like earlier today when you had commented to your boyfriend on how handsome one of Wooyoung's friends looks in his latest insta post, he doesn't miss the opportunity to seek proof that at the end of the day you only have eyes for him.  "And what about me?" he'll asks as he walks up to you from behind, hands put on your waist and his lips ghosting above your neck. The tone of his voice gives his intentions away immediately, and it doesn't take long for him to spin you around in his hold so he could kiss you, dragging you off to the nearest surface to have sex with you on (whether that's the bed, the sofa, or the dining table he doesn't care). And it really all depends on your mood whether he'll pin you against it, making you beg for him until he's satisfied, or put all the power into your hands and let you have his way with him until he's the one whining for your touch. One way or the other, the reason for his jealousy will soon be forgotten, because now all that matters is you and him chasing pleasure together.

Jongho:

You're at a party hosted by a mutual friend of yours, and from the moment you dressed up at home you've known that your outfit choice today is doing something to your boyfriend from the looks he's been giving you. You like the attention, you're not gonna lie, and you can imagine what this night will lead to once you're back in the comfort of your own home, after making him stare at you all evening. However, what you didn't expect were the death glares he's been giving one of your male childhood friends who's been occupying you ever since you walked into that party. You know Jongho isn't the type to get jealous easily, but when he does he usually struggles with expressing it. However, you also know your boyfriend will usually do the right thing anyway, and so when he pulls you into the empty kitchen and locks the door behind himself, you expect him to simply tell you about his feelings. What you certainly do not expect is him backing you up against a counter with a possessive stare glued to your lips. "What's wrong...?" Kisses you instead of answering your question and makes your head spin from the way he runs his hands down your body alone. There's need and anger behind his actions, and in no time he has you pressed up against the kitchen counter, facing the wall now, both your pants and underwear pulled down just enough so he could fuck you from behind, teasing you with just his tip until he has you begging for more, and this really is just what he needed to alleviate his unnecessary feelings of jealousy...

[fandom-random-help]

Dirty Looks

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Simon was a busy man and you knew that. You also knew he could be insecure yet possessive at the same time. So on a particular busy night for Simon was a night for you to go to a bar by yourself. You went to the one somewhat close to base just in case you needed your boyfriend to pick you up. After some greasy bar food and half a drink, you decided to call Simon and see if he would like to meet at the bar for a couple drinks. He's quick to accept the offer as he tells you he just got in his truck to head home.

Simon didn't like the idea of you going out by yourself when you guys first started dating. The thought of you? Alone? With other men around that could hit on you? Hell no! But as time went on he realized you were quick to shoot down any guys shot at you. Because you had a man to go home to, and that man was him. That was one thing that had him weak in the knees, your confidence. One night he went to pick you up from a bar downtown when he caught you in the middle of telling some random guy to fuck off and that you were one-hundred percent taken. He wanted to propose with a pretend ring right then and there.

Here he was, sitting in his truck parked outside of the bar you told him you were at. He looked at himself in the rear view mirror and sighed. He hadn't showered before showing up. Hair spiked from sweat, blackout paint faintly smudged across his eyes, his regular clothes were somewhat decent with only a couple stains at the bottom hem of the shirt he was wearing. He looked like a total wreck. Simon was about to reconsider the quick date idea until his phone buzzed. It was a text message from you.

"Hey love, I got you a whiskey neat. It's waiting for you. <3"

He let out a low chuckle and slowly got out of his truck. Once inside he spotted you sitting on a bar stool alone, just how he liked it. He walked over to you with footsteps that got lighter as he approached. You turned around on the stool to look at your boyfriend. As you're taking in the sight you notice how exhausted he looks in his deep brown eyes alone. You gesture for him to sit next to you and he obliges. Sliding his drink over to him you go on to tell him how your day went. It was routine to talk about your day with Simon. The good, the bad, everything was on the table. You finished you rant about the day rather quickly that Simon didn't even notice until you suddenly ask, "How was your day, love?"

He takes a couple seconds to process before he finally speaks, "It was fucking hell." Your gaze softened at his response. "I wish I could've at least cleaned up a little before meeting you here. Feel a little out of place." You slowly leaned in and kissed him in the middle of his doubts. It was soft and full of care...Simon didn't want it to end. That was until an older lady cleared her throat. "Pardon me, but you shouldn't be doing that here. People are trying to enjoy their drinks." Her tone had slight annoyance tinged into almost every word. Bitter hag.

Now did you care? No! Did Simon care? A little. He knew he wasn't a looker, especially right now. But that didn't stop you from continuing to kiss him. The rest of the time you two spent at the bar was Simon opening up little by little about how his day went, and each detail that made you feel bad for him was followed by a little kiss and a head scratch.

That's when Simon truly felt lucky. To have someone so comforting and confident not only in themselves but their realationship with him as a whole. Someone who didn't care how he looked on any given day. Someone who didn't care about the dirty looks from strangers when they were together. Because to you, dirty looked good on Simon.

(Thank you everyone who voted on the poll. There will be a new poll coming soon.)

[theactualsunshinechild]

I need 17 fanfics of Cipher having a regular ass normal day PRONTO, she deserves it. Either than or we need to put her in situations. I need to chew on her bones. Putting her in a jar and shaking her violently.

Imagine a fic of Cipher waking up in the morning and going through her routine. The twilight is as deep and dark as ever when she wakes. Eternal night has reigned everywhere but Okhema for ages. She prefers it this way really. She still remembers what it was like to try to sleep in the eternal day of Okhema. Blinding sunlight all the time, warming the rags she curled up under, but also shining in her face, keeping her in a hazy daze. She used to grumble and tuck her head lower, bringing up her arms to protect her from the light. Those daylit nights were hard... Though it wasn't so bad when she wasn't on the streets anymore. Aglaea had those big heavy blackout curtains in the bedroom, and always drew them closed at the same time each day. Those nights, tucked under warm sheets as Aglaea sometimes spun gold by candlelight were some of the best sleep she's ever gotten in her thousands of years...

Well, no use dwelling on it. It's a big day today after all! Cipher stretches wide, feeling every joint crack and pop in audible relief as she uncurls her body from the tight ball she becomes when she sleeps. It's a short distance to the bathroom. It's not like her place is especially large; just a little place she fixed up, tucked away in the evernight. Probably used to belong to one of the many refugees that tried to find better fortune in the city.

Looking at her utterly destroyed toothbrush, she sighs. Life with sharp fangs really puts a dent in the teeth related expenses. The bristles just don't last quite as long as they're supposed to. This one was due for a replacement anyway... she tosses it to the side, retrieving a new one from a box beneath the sink. She made sure to stock up the last time she snuck by Okhema. Aglaea always warned her to not take tooth care lightly given her long lifespan, and Cipher didn't forget lessons like that easily. The pain of cavities and chipped teeth from her malnourished and chaotic childhood still lived with her.

After brushing her teeth, Cipher goes about putting together... breakfast. If that's what you'd call it. Frankly it was an absolute struggle meal of burnt eggs and a single, somewhat stale, slice of bread with cheese. You'd think after a thousand years, most of them lived on her own, she would know how to make something better, but it was simple, easy enough, and... it was nostalgic, though, only somewhat. The flavor was never really the same. Even after all these years she still hasn't figured out how Aglaea made those eggs taste so good when she was a kid. Was there a secret ingredient? Or was it just that Aglaea didn't burn them as often as Cipher does? Maybe it was lacking the side salad that had always accompanied it? Though Cipher never liked that damn salad, picking at the greens and wrinkling her nose.

Her musing is interrupted by a familiar high pitched squeak from the corner of the kitchen. Other than the twitch of her ear, she doesn't let on that she's heard. It's always better to let them try. As she leans it to take another bite of her cheese and bread, a fluctuation in space disturbs her plate, the Spirithief's grabby little mits reaching through to attempt to snatch up her meager breakfast. It's a cute attempt, she's give them that. Unfortunately for them, she's quite a bit faster, and snatches the plate right back before they can make their escape. They whine and plead so she mercifully ends up giving them the most burnt of the eggs before dragging them off to the other room. There Bartholos cackles as they lay out the diagram of some of ruins that they managed to snap up from the Grove at her behest. She can't deny, it looks pretty interesting. The hallway structure is almost maze-like, and the whole place appears to have puzzles locking every door. She grins.

"You know what they say, the more traps they put up, the more valuable the treasures are!"

This was going to be a productive hunt.

Or so she thought, at least. Bartholos has dug up quite a few treasures, but Cipher can't help but shiver with nerves. Honestly, the ruin is far too close to Okhema for her comfort. Every time her heels click silently against the stone floors, she swears she keeps seeing flashes of gold out of the corner of her eye. Aglaea's gold threads reach far and wide.. it wouldn't be hard to believe they might even have presence here.

She remembers how warm and comforting they were back in the day. Wandering Okhema's streets, alone, but never truly, the sensation of a golden thread always loosely, gently wrapped around her wrist as much a comfort as the Weaver's hand in hers. She could always wriggle out to get up to whatever mischief she wished, but there was always a thread near to tug if she wanted.

How ironic that something so reassuring to her has become something she avoids, and yet it is at times like these when she's flinching away at every flicker in the shadows that she also she misses it all so desperately. The cradling warmth, the soft brushes of fingertips in her hair as she rests her head in the Goldweaver's lap. The sharp playful jibes, and the small smiles. The breakfasts together, the stern lessons, the lazy afternoons.

The feeling of home.

Even after all these years, no matter how chilled her heart becomes by the century, Aglaea's very presence remains that patch of warm sunlight Cipher wishes she could afford to curl up in. She longs to go to her, to ask if she's done enough, if she's finally grown into those boots she gifted her. To hear her say, "well done," with pride.

But she can't let herself within reach of those threads. Can't let herself within reach of a woman who knows her better than she knows herself at times. She can't go back, she can't stay in those walls. She knows everything will fall apart if she allows herself this. It all must remain a memory, something more precious than riches.

So she seeks out gold to fill her home with. She surrounds herself with it, hunting it down and basking in what little she can give herself without risking it all. She still weaves as diligently as Aglaea taught, every lie lined with gold, every tale spun swiftly and precisely by candlelight, every trick measured thrice and cut from expensive cloth, all stitched into beautiful realities only she can create. And if she pricks a finger here and there, if her heart aches with longing for a dress she can't afford to wear, well...

That's just petty change.

[16tinyfrogs]

intro/FAQ (that i prob should've done a while ago)

hi! i see a lot of tumblr users with pinned introduction posts- so i'll probably make this as a rough draft & update it as i see fit.

i'm ella (she/her)! i got into poetry at the end of 2024, and i really like writing it/documenting my progress on this blog! scroll back far enough, and you'll get the reeeally rudimentary stuff...

i'm still in high school, but i have a profound love for the english language and butchering it with my (probably) outlawed use of punctuation in my contrapuntal poems. i also like to read a bunch, as well as sing, bake, draw, paint, and play with my 2 dogs- luna & olive.

my poetry- i often forget to actually post my stuff haha. my poems (& prose- i'm too lazy to separate them) are under #poetry & #original poem. *if it is tagged with #poetry but not #original poem, it is still my original work- i'm just forgetful with my tags lol.* i write about anything and everything, from chronic illness, to my queerness, to my faith, to media i liked, etc etc etc

other tags- #answered asks for any asks submitted (i try to answer each one as soon as i can), and #yappings for when i'm just talking about random things!

↓ FAQs about poem formats & publications!

-> what's a contrapuntal poem?

great question! contrapuntal poetry is inspired by contrapuntal music, which is pieces with simultaneous/overlapping melodies. in contrapuntal poetry, you'll see 2+ individual poems (often from unique perspectives) which can be read on their own, and then together in one big poem. it's like a 3 in 1!

-> how do i read a contrapuntal poem?

attached is a screenshot of an old contrapuntal poem i wrote, about controlling relationships.

the poem on the left is the point of view of the controller. it reads like a regular poem- i am/ constricting,/ i'm scared of you/ trying ...etc

the poem on the right is the point of view of the controlled. it also reads like a regular poem- beware,/ the vine/ wrapped around your throat. ...etc

now, here's the cool part. they combine into one big poem! this might be a little harder to read- i'll type out the first couple lines as an example so you can see how the perspectives fit together.

beware,/ i am the vine/ constricting, wrapped around your throat./ i'm scared of you/ trying to escape the strangulation, ...etc

does that make a little more sense? it can be kinda confusing to read at first, but it's so awesome when you get used to the format! eventually, i wrote a poem about some characters from Severance, with three different perspectives! was a mind bender to write, i'll tell you that.

-> what's a blackout poem?

okay, so i don't know if it's reeeally a technically recognized format, but i saw it on @two-bees-poetry & thought it was super cool. i've only done like one or two, though.

my blackout poems are taken from other poems/prose pieces i've already written. i think of it as uncovering a secret message!

so here, my contrapuntal poem about two characters from the Unwind books with verrry wrecked home lives forms one secret message- "can i come home". this is very fun to try as a little thought experiment with your own works- i highly recommend it!

-> do you have works for sale/for print/published?

nope! this is basically the only place i've ever posted my work, apart from the occasional text to a close friend. i don't know the first thing about selling my work online, and i don't really think that my writing should be paywalled. that's not to say that i don't appreciate the outpouring of support i've gotten from this community, though. y'all are all very kind! & i have *nothing* against any poet who sells their words. get that bag sis lmao

as far as printing goes- i think it's super special that people want physical copies of my poems to have as gifts or hang on your wall (or whatever else). i have no problems with that, but please please please do not sell my work!!! i am literally just a person posting her silly little words for other people to see! let's just all be nice!

donations- there have been some remarks that my words deserve compensation, and i'm flattered! i've been thinking of setting up a ko-fi. it seems legit and low pressure. i wish i had something more than my words to offer to you all, but alas, i am built only for yapping. if i set up a ko-fi, it would literally be the most "contribute only if you really, really want to". i post because i like to- not to make a living!!

alright, this ended up SO LONG. oops. i def don't have enough notability to be writing this much in a post.. but i guess if you followed me, that's what you signed up for. feel free to ask me questions or talk to me about literally anything. i love making friends!

[starry-bi-sky]

okay so i was thinking of a joke earlier about how in DPDC Amity Park's slogan "a great place to live" is not only city propaganda but also the city lording it over the rest of America for being normal. But then I remembered that, despite how many DCU Cities with heroes in it there are, the amount of cities in America without heroes still far outnumber the amount of cities in America WITH heroes.

So I did a little digging so the joke would still land. Something most heroes have in common is that they operate in major cities. What makes a major city? I found that the general consensus is that the population is roughly over or around a million. THEN I looked up the populations of cities in the DCU that I thought of off the top of my head. So Gotham, Metropolis, Starling City, Central City, Jump City. All of them ranked up to millions in population (most of them were in the tens of millions).

Amity Park's wikipedia describes it as being similar to specifically Philadelphia, Chicago, and San Francisco.

Philadelphia's Population: 1.576 million as of 2021 Chicago's Population: 2.697 million as of 2021 San Francisco: 815,201 as of 2021

Whiiich means that Amity Park if we take that from canon, is probably a major city. There are approximately 19,000 cities in America with probably less than a hundred that are major cities. Adding the DCU major cities wouldn't skew the data too much.

Which MEANS that I can make the joke that Amity Park's "great place to live" is not only just typical city propaganda, but also its Amity Park lording it over the other major cities for being one of the only major cities that doesn't have problems bad enough to warrant a superhero or a vigilante. Cue stage left the Fentons and Phantom :)

Amity Parkers were probably SO proud that they didn't need a superhero. They didn't have to worry about things like 'world ending threats' and 'super-powered individuals' and 'staggering property damage'. And then enter Fentons.

It also could be used as an excuse for why nobody took notice to Amity Park getting ghosts if folks like me aren't huge fans of the notion of a media blackout via Tucker, Technus, or the US Government. Or if you want to keep Amity Park as its urban city self. Amity Park's news on ghosts gets drowned out in a week because there's news on more popular, well-known cities going on every other day. The shit going on in Amity Park is every other major city's regular Tuesday and it gets filtered as such.

[alpineshift]

Ooo prompts!! Yes please and thank you!

Please could I get an early morning wake up call where Nico wants ‘just five more minutes’ of cuddling? Thanks!! 💛

an early morning wakeup call! there can only be specific instances where those are nice (right before a big trip, when your pet jumps into your bed to snuggle, if you're currently cuddling with jack hughes, and so forth).

The soft pinging of their alarms is the first interruption to the start of what promises to be a very busy day, and Nico is already so over it.

"Mhfmrhghn," he grumbles into the stuffing of his pillow. "Turn it off."

From his waist, he feels Jack wiggle his arm up from under the tangle of blankets, smack blindly over the mattress on Nico's side of the bed, and swipe across the phone screen until the alarm snoozes.

"God," his boyfriend groans, face tucked into the back of Nico's neck. "The stupid thing's on your side, you turn it off."

"It's your phone," Nico yawns.

"It's your side."

"Mmm." He wriggles his toes, shifts his lower body so his hips are better positioned against the cradle of Jack's hips, then sinks back into bed. "Go back to sleep."

Jack snorts, right into his ear, the sound loud and unfortunately jarring.

"We gotta get up, babe."

"No." He's not whining, but he's also not-not kind of whining. "I don't wanna move, it's so cozy."

He hears, and feels, the soft puff of laughter against his cheek before Jack leans in and kisses him, just light enough under Nico's eye that he's not disturbing him as badly.

"I know, but if we don't get up, wash up, and eat something now, we're gonna be late and we're gonna be in so much freaking trouble. I am not angling for a late fine during playoff season."

"You're a millionaire."

"It's double the payout, baby, so unless you're cashing out for me—" it's accompanied by a cheeky pinch to Nico's nose that makes Nico squawk, "—we gotta get a move on it."

Well. Time to pull out the big guns, maybe.

"Please," Nico whispers, opening his eyes just a little. It's still just around dawn, the slowly lightening sky hidden away behind his blackout curtains, and the air outside of their blankets is cold and the prospect of leaving this comfortable hideout with his boyfriend is unacceptable. "Please, baby? Just five more minutes?"

"Oh c'mon, using the sad puppy eyes, that's unfair," Jack moans, pretending to flop over Nico's front, starfishing over him. "We said no sad eyes during this time, it's your greatest stealth weapon."

"We never said anything about that in bed," Nico laughs, sleepy and warm. Even though his body has been aching with the drag past the regular season, to the long-haul push of the post, here, with Jack in his arms, it feels like he can do anything.

"Guess not," Jack grumbles, and Nico can feel his lips brushing over his throat and collarbones, bare from the lack of sleep shirt. Jack runs like a little hot pack, radiating a shocking amount of heat that very nearly matches Nico's. His bedroom's thermostat is usually set offensively low to most people.

"So another five minutes," Nico says, smug, and yelps when Jack pinches his side.

"Don't get smug," Jack warns, but he fends off any of Nico's complaints with a warm, gentle kiss to his lips. And he loses himself to that, the way Jack kisses him with unflinching love, unhesitating fondness. It's a rare treat, a beautiful start to his morning, the perfect boost he needs to kick his game into high gear tonight. Nico could stay in this bed forever, with Jack in his arms until the end of time, losing track of everything that goes on beyond their four walls and out there in the city—

Their backup alarm pings at the worst possible time.

Jack sighs against his lips, and even as Nico pouts at him, finally sits up in bed, taking the upper half of their blankets with them.

"C'mon, Neeks, we've got a game to play tonight."

(And Nico is a professional, of course. And he's excited to play tonight. It's game six, in a series the Devils are leading 3-2, and who the hell knows which way any of this could go.)

They get up together, shower together (unfortunately without any funny business) and make a health-packed breakfast before going their separate ways to prepare. It makes Nico's heart flutter when Jack tugs him back one last time at the doorway, planting a light kiss to Nico's lips and then the scar on his cheek, before hosting his backpack over his shoulder and clearing out of the apartment.

And the day goes by, bolstered than Nico's game-focused mentality, and before he knows it he's putting on his gear like it's battle armour and hyping up his boys in the tunnel.

The atmosphere in the Rock is electric tonight, fans hollering and screaming and waving their red-and-white merch in the stands above them. It's the finals, and everyone is hungry for a win and that coveted silver cup.

On the other side of the ice, the solemn and unflinching pacific blue and white of the Vancouver Canucks move around them like an inverse, circling like apex predators in the ocean.

The music pounds in the speakers overhead. The guys are leaning over the boards behind the bench, gazes fixated on the first shift coming out on the ice. Across the red line, Quinn drifts by in tandem as Nico skates towards the center, and gives him a friendly tap with his stick.

"Look alive, Hischier," he says, and Nico chuckles.

"Back at you, Hughes. Are you starting this fight, or—?"

"Not me this time," Quinn smirks, and he veers off to reveal a familiar face in a blue-and-white 86 jersey, a shiny A to compliment his older brother's C over his chest.

"C'mon, baby, show me what you got," Jack calls, pulling up to the dot and leaning over his stick. His eyes twinkle, but his grin is sharp and excited. He, and the rest of the Canucks, and all of the the Devils at Nico's back, are definitely not going to go down without a fight.

"Let's play some hockey," Nico agrees, and the whistle blows.

[shallowseeker]

But see… I really do think that hunters recognizing the signs of psychological “overkilling” is important!

In this genre, it serves as shorthand for instability in the field. Mary recognizing this in Jack… indicated he was psychologically unfit to fight.

///

Overkilling shows up in various characters.

Cas mentions this when assessing Lucifer’s kills in season 12:

Sam and Castiel are in the library at the bunker. Castiel is looking at pictures of the carnage at the archbishop’s house on a cell phone, zooming in and out)

CASTIEL: Ugh. These pictures...The level of violence, it's completely unnecessary.

SAM: Lucifer doesn't like to get messed with.

///

And of course, his own hypocrisy aside, Sam is hypervigilant for assessing this in MOC!Dean. (And all things considered, Sam and Cas aren’t exactly incorrect in their assessment. The issues became more about Dean’s blackouts and lack of control, rather than the immorality of his targets.)

///

Killing is killing, but in this genre, the signature yields vital information.

Jack’s signature was unstable, and Mary correctly recognized this.

///

I can think of good examples for Dean and Cas too, becoming disorganized psychologically, particularly towards the terminal ends of the Mark and Godstiel arcs.

But even soulless, Sam tends towards frighteningly cold and efficient.

Sam with Jake Talley, maybe?

There’s also Dean with the Adam and Kate wraiths. That sticks out in my head.

It comes in lighter flavors, too, like when Claire was not being able to stop kicking her assailant. The fear took over.

Something I want to pay more attention to… just thinking aloud.

EDIT: I think blood-addicted Sam was the closest to disorganized and overkill on the regular, like… as he became ruled by the blood addiction, season 15 shows us a Sam terminating with a demon-Dean-style of arc, a demon Sam with black eyes who kills Jody and Bobby.

SAM: You know, I knew you’d come looking for me. After Sioux Falls… I suppose you had to.

DEAN: What you did to them… what you did to Bobby… to Jody…

SAM: They tried to stop me. But I will not be stopped.

DEAN: Sammy, listen to me. This is the demon blood. You have to fight it!

SAM: Why would I do that?

[The bald man from earlier approaches behind SAM. SAM turns his head slightly and the man’s neck snaps as he falls to the ground. SAM looks back at DEAN with an evil smile.]

DEAN: Sammy, please. Please.

[SAM smirks. His eyes flash to black. He cocks his head to the side. Dean’s neck snaps as he falls to the ground. He’s dead.]

[viewofagarden]

Dandy's World OC: Jackson Hollowday

Bio and details below!

“Jackson is the (self-proclaimed) king of Halloween! His love for spooky fun and misadventures is only matched by his love for candy. If he comes to town, just make sure you give him a good treat, or he’ll give you a nasty trick!”

Full Name: Jackson Hollowday  Other Name: Jackson the Jack-o-Lantern Species: Pumpkin Gender: Male Voice Claim: David Kaufman (Danny Fenton/Phantom - Danny Phantom)

Jackson’s Store Quote “Me? If you insist! Let’s scare up some fun!”

Requirements

3000 Pumpkins

2500 Ichor

100% Research on Twisted Jackson

Appearance

Jackson is an orange pumpkin with dark orange cheeks, two black eyes with orange pupils, his mouth is jagged and completely black, and he also has a triangular nose. He wears a dark purple cape, a dark green long sleeved coat with tattered sleeve ends and dark green straps, dark brown pants, black gloves, and a pair of black boots.

In the dark, Jackson's eyes, nose, and mouth become yellow while his pupils become orange. As such, he glows yellow during blackouts. In his info card, he holds a dark green and purple striped cane with a pumpkin topper.

Personality

Jackson is the flamboyant, theatrical, and campy lover of all things spooky, creepy, and macabre! Similar to Rudie, he is very passionate and festive about his holiday (In his case, Halloween), though it tends to border on obsession. He loves to have fun with other Toons and share the joy of the holidays with them. He also has a sweet tooth and fondness for candy similar to Yatta, as his passive ability, one of his extraction dialogues, and his dialogue with Yatta and Dulce suggest.

He however does tend to be overconfident and arrogant, such as saying the Twisteds should be scared of him instead of the other way around, and flat out saying “Halloween is better” to Rudie. He is also quite mischievous, but nowhere near the level that Luci is. 

Stats

Rank: Main Health: ♥️♥️ Skill Check: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (Size 200 / Value 2.5) Movement Speed: ⭐⭐⭐(Walk 15 / Sprint 25) Stamina: ⭐ (100) Stealth: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (15) Extraction Speed: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ (1.20)

Abilities

Trick! Active This Toon scares any and all Twisteds chasing him, causing them to run in the opposite direction for 7 seconds. Has no effect on stationary and Lethal Twisteds. Has a cooldown of 60 seconds.

Treat! Passive This Toon drops 4 random candy items after completing a machine.

Dialogue 

Finishing extraction “What can I say? Extractin’ makes me feel good!” “Trick or treat!”  “Just a couple more and I’ll have so much candy!”

Descending to the next floor “I ain’t afraid of no Twisteds!” “Afraid of Twisteds? They should be afraid of ME!” “Trick or Treat, smell my feet, give me something good to eat!~”

Activating Trick! “BOO!” “OOGA BOOGA!” “BOOGITY WOOGITY!”

Twisted Jackson

"One of the Holiday Main Characters of Dandy’s World. The love for his favorite holiday has driven him mad, and now he’s literally lost his head. His idea of “fun” is throwing his detached head at any stragglers in his view. You don’t wanna catch him in the dark either…his attention span, speed, and attack speed become stronger when the lights are off.”

Rank: Main Speed: Below Average (17), Above Average (19, Blackout floors)  Attention Span: Average (2.5; Normal floors), High (5, Blackout floors), Detection Range: Above Average

Twisted Jackson is a large roaming Twisted that, should Twisted Jackson spot a player, he will throw his pumpkin head at them in a straight line of sight, damaging the player should they get hit. However, because it’s in a straight line of sight, it is dodgeable. His pumpkin attack has a cooldown of 15 seconds during regular floors, and 10 seconds on a blackout floor.

Similar to Twisted Coal, his stats are enhanced during a blackout floor. Specifically his attack cooldown is decreased by 5 seconds, attention span increases to 5, and his speed increases to 19

Twisted Jackson creates the sound of a horse walking when moving, he also glows red during blackouts, much like Twisted Rudie and Brightney. 

Twisted Research Trinket: Jack-O-Lantern Trinket Category: Other Highlights all incomplete machines during a blackout 

Trivia

Jackson’s passive ability is similar to Yatta’s ability “Pinata Party”. However, Jackson drops 4 candy items instead of 2 when completing a machine. Unlike Yatta, Jackson does not drop any candy when injured. Similarly, Jackson and Yatta only have one star in their stamina stat.

Two of Jackson’s lines are references to the 1984 film Ghostbusters, specifically the theme song by Ray Parker Jr. 

Twisted Jackson is based on The Headless Horseman.

[askdrunkbillcipher]

HELLO, HELLSITE! THE NAME’S BILL CIPHER. I MADE THIS BLOG ON A DYING WEBSITE TO KEEP MYSELF OFF ANY OF MY REGULAR ACCOUNTS WHEN I END UP GETTING BLACKOUT DRUNK. NOT THAT I EVER SAY ANYTHING DUMB OR REGRET ANYTHING! YOU SHORT-LIVED FLESHBAGS SHOULD COUNT YOURSELF LUCKY TO BEHOLD EVEN MY DRUNKEN RAMBLINGS!

BUT IF ANY OF YOU SHOW THIS BLOG TO STANFORD PINES, I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN AND REARRANGE YOUR MOLECULES

SHOOT ME AN ASK AND HOPE I’M COHERENT ENOUGH TO GIVE YOU A GOOD ANSWER!

NOT AFFILIATED WITH ANY OTHER BILL CIPHER RP BLOGS - this Bill is his own version who only goes on Tumblr when he’s drunk!

We’re operating on the pre-Weirdmageddon timeline as of starting this blog, so no Bill doesn’t know anything about the theraprism - yet!

Also don’t forget, this is not just Bill Cipher but a drunken Bill Cipher. You should really not take anything he says too seriously.

I’ll update this as needed

UPDATE 10/04/2024: WELL, this whole thing spun into something I never planned for! My initial thought was I’d just show up when I felt like it and the in universe lore was gonna be Bill was sober then. And I quickly found myself checking this more than my main. So now drunk!Bill is an alcoholic I guess. Read between the lines and you may find hints on the other AU thoughts I’ve had regarding this blog but at this stage I can’t say I’m fully committed to turning this into a bigger AU. It’s whatever! As long as I and everyone joining me here are having fun!

[hellfiresky]

Four cherries on top

Entry for @cloneficgiftexchange | Prompt: "I can't believe you just said that."

Summary: Emerie Karr doesn’t flirt. She fills out reports, writes scientific journals, and saves lives. You, on the other hand, arm wrestle her brothers whilst tending the bar. Between bad pickup lines and awkward flirtation, maybe a quiet date at the botanical gardens doesn’t sound so hypothetical after all. Word count: 5k-ish   Pairing: Emerie Karr x Bartender F!Reader (Reader is described as masc with half-shaven mullet) Warnings: Nothing. Fluff. Awkward sapphic panic. Heavy flirting. Mutual pining. Reader is a walking masc lesbian stereotype (mullet, flannel, carabiner,). Emerie is a workaholic disaster lesbian. Very soft feelings. Waxer, Boil, Sister, Kix, Echo, and Helix (oh how I love you, fanon clone Helix) cameo. HAPPY PRIDE!

Taglist: @orangez3st

“I’m just saying you’d look good with one of us,” Waxer cackled, pushing his empty glass across the bar with a wink as if he wasn’t already on his way into another blackout. “All due respect, of course.”

Slapping a towel down next to the glass, you grinned. It wasn’t the first time the clones flirted with you - or your coworkers, for that matter. Came with the territory. You worked at 79’s, the closest thing the Grand Army had to a watering hole-slash-entertainment hub, and the clones, you’d learned, were naturally flirty. Maybe it was the genetic blueprint they all shared. Maybe it was the brutal churn of war that made them hold on tight to any flash of joy. Or maybe it was just how they learnt to be regular people - loud, loyal, and embarrassingly earnest. Either way, they flirted as if it was second nature. You’d stopped being surprised ages ago.

“Hey hey,” you snatched Waxer’s glass before he could say the next worst thing. “Appreciate the enthusiasm. But too bad - Sister is taken.”

“Ugh,” Boil groaned from his slump against the counter next to Waxer, swirling the last inch of his warm beer. “Yeah. She is the hottest out of all of us.”

From a few stools down, Sister raised her glass without looking up from a conversation with a cute Pantoran woman whose pastel-pink braid swung every time she gestured wildly. “Damn right I am.”

“And also very gay,” Waxer added.

“Damn right again.”

A wave of laughter rolled through the bar, complemented by the sound of glasses clinking and the bass-heavy pulse of whatever synth track was currently on loop - remix of a remix of a remix that had been cycling for three weeks straight. Courtesy of 79’s resident droid DJ, who had exactly one skillset: take any chart-topper, add static and a warble filter, and call it a night. No one seemed to care. Or notice. But you noticed. You always noticed. You made a mental note - again - that it was time to update the damn setlist. Maybe even hire an actual DJ for once, someone who didn’t come preloaded with factory settings and a mid-tier taste in techno.

With a sigh, you poured Waxer another and slid it back across the counter. “Anyway,” you raised a brow, “don’t flirt with your bartender. I control your drinks. I can and will water them down.”

Waxer took the glass with both hands and gave you a wounded look. “You say that like you haven’t already.”

“You’re on your eighth pint and just told me - for the third time - I’d look good with one of you. I definitely have.”

“Bully.”

You smirked and turned to wipe down the counter. Nights like this came easy. The clones came and went - rotating in from missions, from the front lines, from their Coruscant base as they prepped to be shipped off again the next day. Some of them were regulars. Some were strangers. Most of them you saw more than your own roommates. And honestly? You didn’t mind.

The drinks at 79’s were subsidised - some Republic initiative to keep morale up - so they only paid half a credit for a pint instead of the standard two. It made sense. These boys fought a war no one really understood, and all they wanted at the end of the day was a cold one. You were more than happy to oblige. You liked their company. Their camaraderie. The way they took up space without trying too hard. But especially, you liked her.

She always came in that grey, standard issue uniform - or sometimes in her medic fatigues which always looked crisp and clean. Though, unlike her clone medic counterparts, she never wore the medic armour. No helmet. No nothing. Just the uniform, a stack of flimsi or a datapad under her arm, and that face - familiar like all the others, but distinct in ways you couldn’t name.

Her hair set her apart. Long, dark brown curls that were often straightened and tied up, or occasionally left loose on Zhellday nights. She’d sit alone sometimes, poring over documents in the corner booth. Other nights, she joined Sister - when the sniper from the 7th Sky Corps happened to be in town. That was when you first heard her name.

Emerie.

Sister had mentioned it offhandedly, saying she was one of the many, yet sporadic, sisters in the company of men she’d found herself surrounded by. Emerie wasn’t technically a regular, but now you knew her name. Knew her face. Knew how she always arrived late. How she never spoke much unless someone dragged her into a conversation - and even then, she stayed right at the edge, as if weighing her presence against the volume of the room. Not shy, exactly. Just... self-contained. So naturally, you had the most godawful crush imaginable.

“Aw, the nerds are here!” Sister’s booming voice cut through the room. She momentarily abandoned her date to high five the incoming troopers. You knew them. Echo and Kix from the 501st. Helix from the 212th. And... Emerie. After slapping palms with her brothers, Sister went straight for Emerie and pulled her into a hug that was tight enough to lift her off the floor. “Em! Missed you!”

You busied yourself, not trusting your face. A group of shinies with freshly painted green armour had rolled in earlier and were now shouting about ordering a beer tower. You took the job, letting your coworker handle the new arrivals. Better that way. You were feeling twitchy. You always got a little twitchy when she showed up. Which was kind of funny, really, because you’d never had any problems flirting before. You flirted with the men all the time. Flirted with Sister, sometimes even in front of her dates (which she responded to, anyway). You’d often flirted with Emerie before you fully acknowledged the crush - but now that you actually had a crush on her, everything short-circuited. You second-guessed everything. Did you look good? Did you style your stupid half-shaved mullet right? Did you smell good?

Waxer drained the last of his drink with a satisfied hum, then set the glass down gently before sliding over a tip - one of the rare clones who actually remembered. “Ey,” he said, cocking his chin towards the end of the bar. “You should actually talk to her, ya know.”

“Who?”

He gave you a look that could only be described as older-brother smug. “Ya think I don’t know you’ve been eyeing my sister? And I’m not talking about your shameless crush on Sister.”

“Pfft.” Mild annoyance grew as you puffed through closed lips. “Why’s she never in armour?”

“Not telling ya,” Waxer’s cackle returned immediately. “Yeah, Boil?” he called over his shoulder. “Boil knows too. But we ain’t telling.”

“Rude.”

“You know you can just ask her, right?” Boil rolled his eyes. “Hey sweetheart!” he hollered across the bar to your coworker, a poor soul who had just managed to take a breath between orders.

“Oh no. What now?” she sighed, one hand on her hip, the other still holding up a tray full of empty shot glasses.

Boil grinned. “Me and this fine gentleman here—” he clapped Waxer on the back, “require your skilled and radiant assistance.”

Your coworker rolled her eyes but walked towards them anyway, knowing full well what was about to happen. You watched in slow-motion horror as Boil turned back to you, winking. “Tag, you're it.”

Of course the universe conspired to dump you face to face with your crush, at your most unprepared - sweaty six hours into a double shift, reeking of alcohol, and whatever sandalwood spray one of your coworkers had under the bar. 

Emerie was standing there in her usual grey uniform, sleeves neatly folded, datapad tucked under one arm, quietly eyeing the menu above the bar.

“Hey guys. Been a while,” your voice scraped the back of your throat as you rolled up your already short sleeves. “Order? Order? Order?”

“The usual for me and Helix. Pale ale,” Kix piped up, tapping a finger against the bar. He looked over his shoulder. “Echo, what do you want?”

The ARC trooper shrugged. “I’ll get a porter. Fives is coming by the way,” he added, checking the chrono built into his vambrace. “But prime knows where the hell his shebs is.”

“Late, as usual.” Kix scoffed.

You were reaching for the glasses when Kix turned again. “Em, what do you want?”

Emerie was jolted out of her reverie. She unfolded her sleeves and hugged herself as she moved closer to the bar. “Umm,” she cleared her throat. “What did Sister order?”

You paused the hose you were pressing to fill the glasses for her brothers, thumb still on the nozzle as foam fizzed dangerously close to the lip. In the mirror wall behind the bar, you caught your reflection and did a quick check out - okay, you looked good. The stupid half-shaven mullet wasn’t acting up. Your arms looked pumped. All those upper-body days were working. But then again, did Emerie - Em, even go for that? You had no idea. You’d never seen her with anyone. Never heard rumours, never caught her flirting, never clocked a lingering touch with anyone. She showed up a couple of times with a non-clone GAR officer, but it hadn’t looked like a date - more like a meeting that got relocated to a bar. For all you knew, she might’ve been allergic to affection. 

Spinning back towards her, you kept your tone light as you met her eyes with a teasing smile. “Why?” you asked. “You always get the soda float. Extra cherries.”

Emerie froze in that special brand of deer-in-headlights look she wore whenever the conversation took a turn she hadn’t mapped three steps ahead. You always noticed that. Like any decent bartender, you’d made eavesdropping part of your professional skillset - and Emerie was easy to read if you knew what to look for.

“I just thought I’d try something different,” she said. “Didn’t want to be predictable.”

Before you could land a smooth comeback, Sister swooped in. “Soda float, huh?” she grinned, sliding a credit across the bar. “Didn’t know my closest sister would be so vanilla.”

“It’s not vanilla,” Emerie muttered. Facing the datapad in her hand, she raised both of her eyebrows, “It’s sparkling water that tastes like astringent caramelised sugar with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg.”

“Sure, sweetie.” Sister winked, slinging her arm over her date’s shoulders. “That caf martini was phenomenal, by the way. You’re a genius.” The sniper leaned in, lowering her voice just for you. “Take care of my little sister, yeah? And if these idiot boys make a mess - let me know. I’ll hackle them.”

Across the bar, Waxer and Boil perked up. “I know what you told her! We didn’t even do anything!” 

“Yet!” Boil added with a gleeful raise of his glass.

Sister pivoted, and pointed a finger at them. “You two! Sit your asses down or I’ll make you clean the communal fresher!”

“You’re not the boss of me, Sis!” Waxer piped back.

“I’m not. But I have my way with the marshal commander, and I can be very persuasive.”

“Boo! Come oooon. We’re so drunk,” Waxer and Boil whined in unison, but they laughed it off, already slipping back into whatever nonsense conversation they were having. 

In front of you, Kix gave Sister a casual two-fingers salute. “See ya, ma’am. Always a pleasure watching you yell at people.”

“I like you,” Sister gave a toothy smile. “You and Helix - keep this bunch alive and hydrated, yeah?”

“Doing our best!” Helix chimed in.

“Em—call me after. And please, for the love of Prime, stop reading reports at the bar. You look like you’re trying to audit the place.” Sister pulled Emerie into one last tight squeeze before strutting off, her date clinging to her. 

You leaned your elbows onto the bar, watching Sister until she faded out in the growing crowd, before turning your attention back to the woman in front of you. “So… caf martini then?” you asked.

“How’s the alcohol content in that drink?” Emerie adjusted her glasses, and took a deep breath. “I… um. I’m not a very good drinker. Like the others.” You noticed the deep red spreading across her cheeks. It bloomed fast. That was actually very cute. You ought to keep that going, just like you did before this turned into a real crush. 

“Depends,” you smirked. “How much trouble are you hoping to get into tonight?”

“I—uh—none,” she said immediately. “Zero trouble. Like, the opposite of trouble.”

You laughed under your breath. “Guess we’re sticking to your usual then.”

Her cheeks deepened a shade. She let out a soft, slightly embarrassed chuckle. “That’s so… lame.”

“Nah, you’re not lame,” you said as you poured the amber soda into a tall glass, watching it fizz to the top. Then came the scoop of vanilla ice cream, and the cherries. Four. Always four. “Reliable. Classic. Kinda endearing, actually.”

Emerie opened her mouth hesitantly before finally blurting out, “I’m… a sleepy drunk. Also, soda floats actually taste good. I don’t know how you enjoy beer. They’re bitter.”

Next to her, Kix, Echo, and Helix simply laughed at her admission.

“What do you even read at a bar, anyway?” You wiped down a ring of condensation left behind from an abandoned glass, and propped your chin on your palm.

“Reports,” she said without hesitation. “Medical documentation. Sometimes I help edit journals on the Republic’s latest health technology to aid trooper field response.”

“At a bar.”

“The office bores me.”

“Ever heard of fun?”

She sipped the float, clearly trying to avoid answering. It made you smile. Not because you were trying to be smug, but because she looked so focused on the childish drink in front of her. She didn’t even notice the way the cherry stem was poking her nose. Before she could say anything else, Kix chimed in from his stool. “Hey Em, remember that time you helped out at the field hospital on Saleucami and fell asleep with your datapad still open on your face?”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Emerie muttered. “I was resting my eyes.”

“Sure. Resting your eyes and snoring,” Helix said, chuckling into his drink. “That was textbook unconscious, Emmie.”

“I hate all of you.” She groaned.

“You love us,” Echo added as he reached over and stole a cherry off her float. “You’d be bored without us.”

You cleared your throat, gently nudging the conversation back into your hands. “Field hospital, huh? So you’re a medic like them? Definitely not an ARC like Echo - I’ve never seen you in that armour.”

“Umm…” Emerie hesitated. Her eyebrows furrowed. You could see it now - she was either one of the most sheltered clones you’d ever met, or one of the deeply overworked ones. The type of clone troopers who never touched the frontlines, but kept the whole damn war running behind the scenes. Those big brown ones didn’t get enough sleep. 

She glanced over at her brothers, as if needing confirmation that it was okay to say anything at all. And that look made you huffed back a laugh because for a brief second, you wondered - were they pushing her to talk to you? Like Waxer and Boil had done to you earlier? Were you part of some brother-led matchmaking plot? Or were you just imagining it? You were probably imagining it.

…Right?

“Tell you what,” you quickly tried to break the tension before your brain ran completely off a cliff, “how about this - we trade questions. You ask one, I ask one.”

“Okay.” Emerie swallowed her drink.

You pointed at her. “Go first.”

“What’s your favourite drink that’s not on the menu?” she asked, almost too quickly.

You grinned. “Ah, so we’re starting with intel. Noted.”

“I just like knowing things.”

“Of course you do.” You let your voice stay in that easy, non-aggressive manner, as you leaned on the counter and pretended to consider. “Hmm… alcohol or non-alcohol?”

“Non.”

“Trying to keep it wholesome, huh?”

She rolled her eyes, but you caught the ghost of a smile behind her glass.

“Alright then,” you said. “It’s a cinnamon caf mocktail. Cold brew caf. Little bit of cold foam made out of nut-milk, a small bark of cinnamon, pinch of nutmeg. And one classified ingredient I refuse to name because I have to keep some kind of bar secret.”

“You just described spiced caf.”

“Nope. Mine’s sexier.”

“Rum syrup?”

“It’s a secret.” 

“I mean… it sounds good,” she said quickly, adjusting her glasses.

“It is.” You paused. “I’ll make it for you one night when I’m off-duty. Just the two us.” You didn’t realise you’d said it loud enough for Kix and Helix to glance over with their eyebrows raised. Loud enough for Echo to quietly laugh into his drink like someone who’d just been handed a new piece of gossip and was already filing it away for later use.

“My turn,” you said, pointing at her. “Why the soda float?”

She looked at the drink, knitting her brows together. “Well, it’s sweet,” she answered. “And… um… I like those Outer Rim holofilms. You know, the ones where the main characters go on long planetary space trips, stop at diners, and order cherry soda with ice cream on top.” Emerie paused, fingers tracing the rim of the glass absently. “I guess I always wondered what that kind of life would be like.”

You didn’t answer right away. Because what was there to say? You’d heard the tone in her voice - soft and wistful. And it hit you all at once, Emerie didn’t just want a soda float. Like many other clones, she wanted a civilian moment. A diner booth. A laugh across a table. Something not written into the Grand Army’s rule book or constrained by the limits of a clone’s lifespan.

“Ough, you should try the zherry float at Dex’s sometime,” you alleviated the topic to ease the mood. “Dex uses zherries instead of cherries, which is richer. He ferments the zherries into syrup in-house - real tart. Mix it into a regular black soda, top it with dianoga cream, then stack more zherries on top.” You poured yourself a soda from the bar gun, popped a straw in, and took a sip. “Best paired with the Zeltros Slider,” you added. “Fatty, messy, sinful, but perfect on a sunny day when you're starving. Trust me. That combo could fix a mood faster than half the meds in Kix’s kit.”

Emerie watched you sip your soda, fingers tracing the condensation ring under her glass. From the way her shoulders drooped, you noticed that she started to relax herself. “…Is Dex’s really that good?” she asked.

“You’ve never been?” You raised a brow.

She shook her head. “Clone regimentation doesn’t exactly encourage junk food,” she said, a little sheepishly. “The closest I got was watching Kix and Jesse smuggle in fried noodles from Desi’s once after a 20-hour shift.”

“That sounds right.” You laughed.

“They made them do extra PT and extra running laps for two days afterward,” she added. “Captain Rex said, and I quote, ‘if you eat like civvies, you’ll run like civvies.’ - I think he meant marathons. Coruscanti love doing that lately.”

“Rude.”

“Correct, but rude.”

“You ever sneak anything?” You leaned your weight into the bar, resting your chin on your fist again.

Emerie looked a little scandalised. “No!”

“Not even a slider? A nugget? A single stolen fry?” You grinned. 

“I—” She stopped. “Echo gave me a bite of something once. I think it was a burger.”

“A burger? Maker forbid.”

She laughed for the first time that night. Or ever since you saw her in the bar months ago. It surprised both of you.

“It was greasy and weird,” she added. “But it was… kind of amazing.”

“That’s the whole point.”

“I guess I just…” She trailed off, watching the float. “I don’t really know what to do in places like this. I was grown to patch people up. Do some medical research. Write reports. Write journals. There’s no training module for small talk over junk food.”

“That small talk over junk food,” you said, resting your cheek in your palm, “is called a date.”

“I know what a date is,” Emerie groaned, rolling her eyes laughing, and her ears were turning pink again. “Is it my turn to ask now?”

“Technically, yes.” You smirked. “Though I’ve completely lost track of time.”

Before she could say anything else, Helix leaned down next to her, holding up a half-empty glass and looking vaguely overstimulated. “Hey, Em. The rest of Torrent and Ghost Company are here. We’re heading over to the long table. You wanna come join us?”

Emerie turned her head. You followed her gaze, Kix and Echo were already gone, probably swallowed into the loud boom of laughter coming from the far side of the room, where more troopers were gathering. You saw Jesse’s obnoxious Republic cog-tattooed head bobbing through the crowd. Somewhere in the middle of the crowd, someone was distributing electric green shots. 

You watched as Emerie’s body went still again as if she was running a thousand calculations behind her orange-tinted glasses. “Oh, uh…” she hummed. Her hand tightened on her glass. “I think… I think I’ll stay. I’m good here.”

“You sure?” Helix snorted.

She nodded once. “Yeah.”

“…Alright.” He gave you a little side glance as he walked off, melting into the noise. “Good.”

You looked back at Emerie. She was still holding her float, straw between her fingers, waiting for you to say something. You saw the flush creeping back onto her cheeks, and that small, helpless smile that was just beginning to stretch at the corners of her lips. “So,” you said, pushing a bowl of cherries, and casually waving off a new patron towards the other end of the bar, “what’s your next question?”

“He… uh. He wanted to order.” Emerie’s eyes darted towards the customer and back to yours.

“Jek can handle him. Right, Jek?” you called, just as the tall Twi’lek ducked back under the bar pass-through, walking in behind you.

“Already?” he groaned, still reeking faintly of pollution and cold caf. One of his lekku twitched once in protest as he dropped a half-finished cigarra in the ashtray by the sink.

“Customer,” you sang, stepping to the side and letting him slide in next to the taps.

Jek sighed as he grabbed a clean towel off the rack and started moving - shutting the fridge door with his hip as he peeled off towards the waiting trooper on the far end. “Ungrateful shinies,” he muttered. “This is why I don't date troopers.”

“Sure, Jek,” you called after him. “Tell that to the pilot who left you a massive tip and his comlink code last week.”

“That was different!”

You laughed at your tired coworker before turning your attention fully back to Emerie. Her expression had settled into one of comfort - from the look of it. She’d let herself be here now, in this strange bubble of soda floats, noise, and too many damn cherries.

“So?” your smile returned to your lips. “What’s your next question?”

She looked down at her drink for a second before peering back at you from behind her orange-tinted glasses. “What would your, um… ideal date be?” she asked, then quickly followed it with a nervous giggle. “Just… you know. Because we were talking about it.”

“Ideal date?” you echoed, resting your hands on the bar. “That’s a pretty bold move for round two.”

Emerie flushed, but barrelled ahead. “I’ve, um… I’ve read about a few. You know. In holozines. In one of those dating columns women sent for advices.”

You smirked. “Yeah?”

She nodded, sipping again. “There’s this one I remember. This lady said the guy was… he was really into his speeder bike. That was, like, his whole personality. Took the girl to a rooftop to ‘see the city lights’ but didn’t bring snacks or anything,”

“Oh no.”

“He only talked about himself. Bragged about how many fights he got into when he was in Corellia. Said she reminded him of his ex, but in a sexy way. Then he tried to get her to split the bill.”

You stared at her.

“Emerie.”

“What?” she blinked.

“Is this… your idea of an ideal date?”

She looked horrified. “No! I just—those are the only kinds I’ve read about! That, or like… weird beach dates where the guy brings a guitar and sings that song that goes—uh—‘cause maybe… you’re gonna be the one that saves me?’” She winced. “I can’t remember the full lyrics. Oddball likes to sing that.”

You dropped your face into your hands. “Oh my god.”

“I don’t know what people do!” she flailed. “I was raised in a medical wing! I didn’t get a dating module!”

You peeked up through your fingers. “Sweetheart, if a man ever tried to bring me to a beach and play Wonderwall, I’d freeze myself in carbonite.”

Emerie opened her mouth, then closed it again. “So it’s true? Dates with men are that bad?”

“Thank the Maker I’m not into men,” you widen your eyes. “I barely survived my one mandatory marketing workshop with one of those finance bros from the Financial District. I can’t imagine dating one.”

“Oh.” She ate the last cherry in her drink.

“And to answer your question, my ideal date is an entire day spent with my date. Would be nice if lunch at Dex’s is involved.” You stored some clean glasses in the pantry behind you before turning back to her. “My turn now,” you rested your chin on your hand again, eyes fixed on her as if you were studying a book you actually wanted to read. “Based on your readings and analysis… what’s your ideal date?”

“Oh. Um.” Emerie reached up and gathered her curls into a bun, she did that like she needed something to do with her hands while her brain caught up with the question. The bar around you had gotten noticeably more crowded - more clone troopers filling in from the shift change, all chatter and the familiar smell of sweat, cheap body spray, and the smell of rolled cigarra from the Underworld. The overhead unit was still blasting recycled air, but with this many bodies packed in, the cold never reached the floor. Heat gathered beneath your collarbones, making you wish to run to the fresher to change into a clean shirt.

Her eyes darted towards the entrance and back to her float. She was scanning the space like other troopers always did out of habit - calculating exits, memorising faces, tracking movement. She didn’t like crowds, Sister had mentioned it to you before. Not because she was afraid, but because they made it harder to think. You’ve also noticed that she always answered if you gave her enough room. Emerie’s thoughts didn’t come quickly. They came fully formed, and they needed time. So you refill your soda to give her the space to adjust her hair, to breathe, to get her bearings again. And sure enough, after a few seconds, she straightened, and stirred her float absentmindedly. “Okay. So… not dinner. Too formal. And not caf either—everyone does caf, it’s boring.”

“Bold stance from someone who only drinks soda floats,” you murmured.

“I like snacks,” she said, ignoring you. “Those little ones you can carry around. Pastries, skewers, crisps, those weird chewy tapioca balls with cheesy and barbecue dust you get from street stalls.”

You smiled. “So snack-based. Got it.”

“And… long walks.” She paused, then nodded to validate her own answer. “I walk a lot anyway, and it’s easier to talk when you’re moving.”

“Practical.”

“But not just random commuter walks. Somewhere nice. Like the Skydome Botanical Garden. Or the science museum in Fabosi District. The one with the interactive exhibits and the massive display on rare bacteria cultures? Have you been there?”

“I—no. Not since I was in school. For extra credit.” You stared at her. 

Emerie shrugged, sipping her float again. “I like it. It’s quiet. Nobody bothers you. You can talk if you want, or simply… look at things.”

You tilted your head slightly. “That’s… actually really sweet.”

She immediately looked flustered. “It’s not meant to be sweet! It’s educational!”

“Sure it is.” You grinned, letting it hang in the air before you lowered your voice teasingly. “With whom?”

“What?”

“Who’s going with you? To the museum. For the walk. For the snack runs.”

“Nobody,” she said quickly. “It’s a hypothetical.” Emerie flushed so fast. You watched the red hue bloomed on her cheeks before it crept down her neck.

“Mmhmm.” You didn’t look away. “Sounds very specific for a hypothetical.”

“I was just answering the question!” she protested, but her eyes betrayed her as they started reading the event promo flyers on the wooden bar, and back to the menu above you, anywhere but meeting your eyes.

“With… that bearded non-clone officer who comes in with you sometimes?” you asked, knowing the absolute zero chemistry between them. “The one who is always in his grey uniform?”

“What? No.” Emerie grimaced. 

You raised a brow. “No?”

“He’s not—that’s not—we work together. He comes to debrief. And complain. And eat the fried mushrooms.”

“So… not your snack-run date.”

“Maker, no.”

“Got it.” You let the silence fill the space between you, the noise of the bar slipping into the background like it had been put on mute just for this. “That’s a relief.”

She froze. “…Wait, why?”

“Because I’d hate to have competition. Especially if my competition is a man with an obnoxious beard trimmed into that awful fade.” You grinned.

That earned you a real laugh, and immediately cut off by her own embarrassment. She covered her mouth with her hand to stuff it back in, ignoring her cheeks that were already blushing again. “You’re infuriating,” she mumbled with that same warm smile.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered.”

“Right,” you said, nodding towards her soda float. The straw was still bobbing in the glass from where her hands had shook. “Tell that to your drink.”

“Shut up,” she ducked her head and took a sip - using the glass to shield her from the way your eyes lingered.

“So he’s not my competition after all.” This time, it didn’t earn you that swet laughter from her. Instead, her grip tightened around the glass. You watched the tension gather in her shoulders again, yet it was not the same nervous fluster as before. “Hey,” you carefully said. “What’s going on in there?”

She glanced up at you, then back down. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, then closed again. And finally, she let out a quiet admission. “I’ve… always kind of wanted to get to know you.”

You swallowed, surprised by how gently she said it. 

“But I didn’t really know how,” she added. “I’m not like my brothers. I’m not loud. I don’t flirt. I’m also not brave and carefree like Sister. I-I didn’t know if I’d just embarrass myself.”

You leaned a little closer across the bar, “You never have.”

Emerie shook her head, strands of curls escaping the bun she’d tied earlier. “I don’t have… experience. Like that. I’ve read things, sure, but it’s not the same. And I didn’t know if you—” she hesitated. “I mean. I didn’t know if you were even into women.”

“Em.” You stared at her, raising an eyebrow. “Babe. Have you seen me?”

“I—uh…”

Gesturing vaguely to yourself, you chuckled. “The mullet. The flannel vest. The chains. The fucking carabinner. The fact that I literally arm wrestle your brothers for fun.”

She opened her mouth, failed to find a retort, and immediately looked overwhelmed.

“For the record,” you said in that teasing voice, “if I weren’t into women, I think I’d still be into you anyway.”

The clone scientist in front of you choked. A full-on, soda-down-the-wrong-pipe, slap-the-bar, panic response. One hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes went wide behind her glasses, which were now fogging at the edges from the sudden exhale.

“I—” she wheezed. “You—what—”

You bit your lip trying to hold it together.

“I can’t believe you just said that!” she blurted, eyes wild, voice high with secondhand embarrassment.

“Me neither,” you burst out laughing. “That was so bad! That was, like, top ten worst delivery I’ve ever pulled - and I once tried to flirt using a pun about caf martini. And somehow this one was worse!”

“You did not,” she groaned, looking simultaneously horrified and like she wanted to crawl under the bar before bursting into laughter herself.

“Oh, I did. And I stand by it.”

She shook her head into her hands, cheeks absolutely on fire, glasses slipping down her nose. That had to be the third time she’d laughed like that tonight - and it was loud, full-bellied, and unguarded, almost echoing the sound from the other clones across the bar. She shared their face, after all. Maybe it was about time she shared their laugh too.

“That was sooo bad,” she said again, laughing harder now. “You’re ridiculous.”

Wiping a tear from your eye, you tried to catch your breath. “Still wanna go out with me?” 

Emerie froze again before quietly smiling down at her glass, “Yeah. I really do.”

“I’ll pick you up at 0900 on Benduday?”

Her head shot up like you’d handed her a live thermal detonator.

“We can walk around those places you talked about. Botanical gardens, the museum. Then lunch at Dex’s.” You reached across and gently took the now-empty float from her hands. “Zherry float and Zeltros sliders. My treat.”

She was still blinking, gears whirring inside her head.

“Refill?” you tilted the glass. “On the house.”

“Y-yeah. Yes. Please.”

Moving behind the bar, you started the float assembly again. Behind you, her voice followed in that high-pitched emergency mode. “Should I—do I need to bring anything? Like a schedule? Or a change of clothes? Or extra credits? I mean, I’ve never really—do people wear something specific for walks? Should I look casual or—like—prepared-for-outdoors casual or—”

You slid the glass back in front of her gently, the new float frothing with fresh ice cream and another four cherries stacked on top. “Em.”

She shut up instantly, eyes wide behind foggy lenses, her breath caught somewhere between a laugh and whatever new anxious thought had just tried to climb out of her throat.

“We’ve got all the time in the galaxy.” You smiled softly. The noise of the bar swelled again around you, heavy combat boots on the duracrete flooring, laughter from the back table, dirty bass from the techno remix shaking the shelves. But here, in this small corner of the bar, between sticky glasses and melting cream, everything felt still. 

“That—that sounds really good. I can’t wait.” She smiled as she met your gaze. You saw the blush creeping back onto her cheeks again, soft and impossible to ignore. And this time, she didn’t look away.

[babybearnation]

sir bear's 1k event~

sir bear’s 1k event is an event running from march 10th to march 16th. during this week long event, you can ask for head canons for any of the drivers set in any of the AUs with any themes/topics listed under the cut. please adhere to the rules below, and don’t forget to have fun!

event explanation:

the whole event is themed around worlds & alternate universes i've created/used for my published and non-published ao3 fics.

i've included titles/general concepts alongside the AUs, but these really aren't important to you - you can just request the AU without it necessarily being set within the fic world i've created.

some of the AUs will link to posts that explain the more original worlds i've created or to fics i've written to avoid confusion.

if you have any questions about my ao3 fics/worlds, please ask me about them on @littlebearnation

rules:

no sad ending angst. no crack.

happy ending angst is welcome (and encouraged).

suggestive and smut are fine, but nothing overly gratuitous.

no cis female reader requests. gn, male, trans, genderfluid/queer and nonbinary+ reader requests are allowed.

female reader requests are only allowed when requesting for abbi pulling and i won't do male readers for her.

if you request one of the kimis, make sure to specify which one or else i'll delete it.

one idea per ask. multiple drivers per idea is fine.

six drivers per idea. full grid/full list is not a valid driver option.

overly complex ideas will be deleted.

AUs are allowed (they're the whole point of this event) but please check list below.

polyamory is okay (encouraged even!) but try not to cross leagues too much as i find it hard to write for uncommon pairings.

no more than 3 drivers per polyamorous requests.

the fics will not be titled or edited to near perfection. i will also be creating a masterlist for this event that will become available after i post the first fic.

fics that request non-headcanon style work will be deleted.

any asks received before the starting point (00:00am GMT, march 10th) will be deleted.

any asks received after the cut off point (23:59pm GMT, march 16th) will not be answered, but asks received before then will still be answered, even after the event is over.

mutuals are allowed to request even after the event is over.

during this event , regular requests will stay closed so as to not create hell for me post-event.

have fun <3

drivers/aus/themes/topics below the cut!

drivers i will write for:

abbi pulling (rodin gb3)

alex albon (williams f1)

arthur leclerc (ferrari f1)

callum ilott (prema indycar)

charles leclerc (ferrari f1)

christian mansell (ex f2)

dennis hauger (andretti global indy nxt)

dino beganovic (hitech f2)

esteban ocon (haas f1)

gabriel bortoleto (sauber f1)

george russell (mercedes f1)

zhou guanyu (ferrari f1)

isack hadjar (racing bulls f1)

jack doohan (alpine f1)

jenson button (ex f1)

josep maria “pepe” marti (campos f2)

kevin magnussen (bmw wec)

kimi antonelli (mercedes f1)

kimi raikkonen (ex f1)

lance stroll (aston martin f1)

lando norris (mclaren f1)

lewis hamilton (ferrari f1)

liam lawson (red bull f1)

logan sargeant (ex f1)

luke browning (hitech f2)

marcus armstrong (meyer shank indycar)

maximilian günther (ds penske formula e)

mick schumacher (alpine wec)

nico hulkenberg (sauber f1)

nico rosberg (ex f1)

nyck de vries (mahindra formula e)

oliver bearman (haas f1)

oscar piastri (mclaren f1)

pato o'ward (mclaren indycar)

paul aron (alpine f1)

pierre gasly (alpine f1)

robert shwartzman (prema indycar)

sam bird (mclaren formula e)

sebastian vettel (ex f1)

taylor barnard (mclaren formula e)

yuki tsunoda (racing bulls f1)

zak o'sullivan (kondo super formula)

zane maloney (lola yamaha abt formula e)

AUs i will write for (full list):

1920s (the gentleman's club)

assassin's creed (f1 x assassin's creed)

blackout (blackout)

casual magic (meowgical mishaps)

cupids (hopeless)

driver!reader (this could go for most of these ideas tbh so - also reader can drive in any motorsport you choose)

gentleman's club (the gentleman's club)

high school (the button-vettel household)

historical (regency/georgian/victorian eras only) (sargebon historical romance)

hopeless (hopeless)

hybrids (bunny boo!)

mythical hybrids (the dragon & his bear)

non-drivers (daddy x4, don't lacrosse my heart, superstar, the button-vettel household, who is logan sargeant?)

omegaverse (cinnamon & sugar)

other sports (don't lacrosse my heart)

paranormal (supernatural/paranormal f1 au)

red sight 'verse (red sight)

royal (princely duties)

steampunk (f1 steampunk au)

supernatural (supernatural/paranormal f1 au)

twitch streamer (twitch/drive)

university (don't lacrosse my heart, who is logan sargeant?)

urban fantasy (supernatural/paranormal f1 au)

themes/topics i will not write for/about (these are hard nos):

adult/child (either both are adult or both are underage)

children/kid fics

death

feederism

incest

large age gaps (10 or less is my okay spot)

periods

physical disabilities (i just don't feel confident in this, sorry)

pregnancy/mpreg (excluding breeding kink)

serious injuries (minor injuries is fine)

smut/kink topics: food kink; sensory deprivation (excluding blindfolding & choking); wax play; scat; age play (excluding daddy kink); CNC (consensual non-consent); exhibitionism/voyeurism; foot fetish; most paraphilias

teacher/student

trauma/recovering from trauma

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[laswells-ashtray]

Regarding my last thing, I feel as if the others also have stuff they can all of a sudden do when they're blackout drunk.

Mac can all of a sudden do ballet. I mean he becomes a fucking prima ballerina kinda thing. Mans not flexible AT ALL sober, but as soon as he's drunk, man is all of a sudden naturally flexible, dancing like a ballerina.

Kate ends up juggling. Not even something easy, no, drunk as fuck she can fucking juggle alcohol bottles, any type any shape kinda thing. the bottles ain't even empty, most still being full or at least half full.The limit doesn't even stop at 3, she can do like 5-6 bottles. No one who was there to witness her juggling knows what's her limit on juggling alcohol bottles, they were too scared she was gonna end up dropping, breaking, and waste the alcohol in the bottles to go further on it.

Sarah ends up somehow doing split jump. She doesn't get blackout drunk often, she likes to pace herself and be able to remember the fun night. But one night she was just absolutely blasted and full on going for it. Kate was scared she was gonna hurt herself, that's her pretty wife come on! But her eyes were bulging out of her sockets when Sarah all of a sudden just ran into a perfect spilt jump. Wasn't even a forward spilt jump, it was a middle split jump. Kate tries to get Sarah to show her it again when she's sober, but when she is, Sarah can't even do any of the splits.

Nik, ballroom dancing. I don't know, but something about such a tough man being blackout drunk all of a sudden knowing how to ballroom dance does something. Man can't even do a regular dance sober either, he's got two left feet. When he's blackout drunk, he just yanks Price and starts ballroom dancing with him, leading him. Price will be confused, flustered, and just turned on while Nik is just all smiles leading him on the floor.

Sorry for ranting! I just zoned out throughout the day and figured out what the others could all of a sudden do while blasted

Oh, I like this. When I'm drunk I gain the ability to post weird, horny and utterly shameless AleRudy content.

John has an old phone that he keeps solely because it's full of old, grainy videos of one Captain MacMillan in a positively beautiful pirouette. There's a wet stain on his shirt from someone knocking into him while he was holding a pint, and his hair is a little fucked from a small incident in which he wrestled Nikolai to prove a point but he looks truly glorious. Mac has no memory of ever even watching ballet, his ability to dance is lost on them all but they're too scared that if he tries to learn it naturally then it'll stop being as good when he's drunk.

Kate actually learned how to juggle when she was a kid, she taught herself but throughout the years completely forgot about it because when you're a kid, if you're the kid that juggles then you're weird. When she's drunk? Everyone fucking loves it, John loves showing off her drunken juggling skills to people. On one occasion Nikolai bet a cocky man that Kate could juggle better than him, the man insisted that some "little blonde" couldn't juggle better than him, Hell, she's a fucking woman. Nikolai made $25 that night and spent it all on Kate's drinks.

Sarah is the type of drunk where if you leave her alone for too long, she's gonna find a stranger and show them her cool splits trick. She has been wrangled away from strangers by Kate, John, Nikolai and even Mac on one of the three occasions that she's met him. Kate will just drag her away with an arm around her waist. John uses Kate as a ploy. "There's some fella over here flirting with Kate." Nikolai will just pick up Sarah and walk away with her, they are friends and he's passed being polite about it. The one time MacMillan had to drag her away from a stranger, he did it because for once this wasn't some kind stranger, it was someone with bad intentions and Sarah was a little too plastered to see it. He gently guided her away with a kind hand on her shoulder, glowering at the stranger as they walked away. "C'mon, hen. Yer lassies looking fir ye."

Nikolai will ballroom dance with John and not only that, he'll dip him and smooch him. It scares the tits off of John a little every time because he always wonders is this the time where Nikolai will be too drunk and drop him but he never does. People are amazed to see it, because Nikolai moves with the fluidity of water flowing. He's graceful, agile and he's glorious.

[regionalcinnabonmanager]

“You wouldn’t have a key to this random door, would you?” 

Flufftober 14: locked in/trapped

You and Leon are stuck in a storage closet at the DSO's headquarters. One problem: You're claustrophobic.

fluff, (obvi) second person pov, gn reader, idiots in love, mutual pining, leon is awkward at feelings, he is also a major simp for you, written with re4 leon in mind but can be read as any, let me know if i need more tags. i don’t think it needs much? NOT PROOFREAD.

word count: 2.1k

i fell in love with leon and subsequently hopped on the fluff train, now i'm writing this nonsense fic. rationale is,, not optimum rn but thats fine, uhh enjoy, simps.

--

“Ow-!” Leon winced in response to you stepping on his foot by accident. 

“Sorry!” You took your foot off of Leon’s as you tried to look for that damn battery pack Hunnigan told you and Leon to look for, struggling greatly to find it as you shined your flashlight in various directions, trying to find it. 

A blackout had happened at the DSO. Those usually never happen at HQ, due to there being backup generators during city-wide blackouts, but apparently, some idiot electrician fixing something down there had screwed up and caused all the lights at HQ to go bye-bye.

So now you were stuck in a dark, small, storage room only big enough for two people to freely move around in, looking for a spare battery pack for people’s flashlights. 

“Found it yet?” Leon asked, shining his flashlight at the storage racks filled with various chemicals and cleaning supplies. You scoffed in response.

“If I did, I’d be grabbing the thing and getting out of this damn room ASAP. Starting to get really uncomfortable here..” You replied with snark, spotting the battery pack a little bit after. With a feeling of accomplishment, you took it. “Found it.” You turned around and held it up, shining your flashlight upwards.

“Good, let’s get out of here and get it to Hunnigan. Still don’t know why she made us do this..” He sighs, hand reaching out to turn the lever door knob. 

As he does so, the door knob falls to the floor with a clatter. Leon picks it back up and tries to reattach the piece of metal, but fails; and it falls to the floor again. 

Silence envelops the room as the two of you stare at the door knob for a few seconds… and then slowly, your eyes meet each other’s. 

Shit.

“What did you do!?” You were the first to break the silence with an exasperated remark, questioning how the fuck Leon managed to break the doorknob.

“I didn’t do anything! The knob just.. broke.” He replies, equally as confused as you are. 

Oh shit, this was your worst nightmare put into words. Which was ironic, considering you worked at an organisation that dealt with nightmarish monstrosities on the regular. 

Of all the things you could be afraid of, somehow small spaces were one of those great fears.

You felt yourself begin to panic. The room felt suffocating. 

“Okay, relax, I’ll just call Hunnigan and tell her we’re stuck in the storage closet. She’ll get us out.” Leon pulled out his phone and flipped it open, dialling Hunnigan. Shortly after, she picked up, and he explained what had happened to the both of you. 

As Leon was on the phone with her, you bit the inside of your cheek and began to zone out, trying to keep yourself together. You could barely hear their conversation as a high-pitched ringing drowned out their voices.

“..Thanks Hunnigan. Bye.” He ended the call, flipping his phone closed with a sigh. “Hunnigan called facilities. ETA is in an hour, so we might as well get comfy.” He pocketed the device as he turned to your still form staring at the wall. “Hey, you good?” He reached over to pat you on the shoulder, snapping you out of your trance.

That seemed to work, as your head immediately turned to him. “Huh? What?”

Leon sighed, repeating what he just said to you. “Are you okay?” He added at the end. “You were kinda.. zoning out.”

You shook your head and sighed, your face twisted into a frown. “No- yeah, I’m uh..” 

Leon raised a brow. “Are you okay or not?” 

Figuring that you can’t hide the truth forever, especially not in a room as small as this, you decided to tell him your fear. “I’m claustrophobic. And I’m kinda, y’know, freakin’ out right now-” You laughed in an attempt to stop yourself from spiralling, but it just made you look sad. 

A look of realisation crossed Leon’s face as he tried to think of what to do to help you calm down. He had experienced panic attacks before, and he knew how to deal with them. Maybe that can help?

“Alright, deep breaths right now, okay?” Leon took your hands and sat you down on the cold floor in an attempt to ground you back to reality. He gently took your face and made you look at him, his blue eyes meeting yours. “Tell me five things you can see.” He took your shining flashlight and pointed it up, letting you see your surroundings.

You looked around momentarily, your eyes landing on a plastic container filled with an orange liquid. “Floor cleaner,” Your eyes trailed over to other spots, “Rat poison, white floor, mop, mop bucket.”  

“Good.” Leon tried to remember the next step. “Four things you can touch.” 

You raised a hand and felt around the place, landing on the cold floor. “Floor..” You touched your arm, fabric balled into your grip. “Clothes,” you reached behind you to feel the cold metal of the storage rack. “Storage rack..” 

You then looked down at Leon’s hand on yours, turning your wrist to intertwine your fingers with his. “Your hand..” You mumbled with a little warmth in your cheeks. Leon seemed to share the same heat on his face as well, but you both chose to ignore it.

Clearing his throat, Leon let your hand stay with his as he ran you through the last three steps of the grounding technique. 

“You feel better?” He asks softly, rubbing the skin of your hand with his thumb. 

You nodded, looking up at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m.. feeling better now..” 

There was a kind of tension in the room as the two of you sat on the floor of the supply closet in silence, hand in hand. Neither of you had ever done this before, so there was a definite awkwardness.

He was just trying to help you calm down, You thought to yourself, rationalising his actions. Nothing more to it. 

Your eyes shifted over to Leon, glancing at his face for a second before looking away.

Shit, they’re probably uncomfortable right now, Leon silently thought to himself. But, they’re not pulling their hand away.. Maybe they don’t mind it?

“How- how much time did Hunnigan say facilities would get here?” You broke the silence with a question.

“An hour, she said. Although, they might get here a bit later because they’re still dealing with the electricity problem. Then they’ll get us out.” He replied with a sigh, leaning back into the metal storage rack behind the two of you. “Don’t worry. It probably won’t be too long.” 

You nodded in response. An hour, huh? Well fuck. What’s two people to do ‘til then?

The two of you sat in more silence as you quietly waited for time to pass by, the occasional clicking of shoes together the only source of sound in the room. Leon’s flashlight was propped up and acted as the singular light source that illuminated everything just enough for it to be visible. With which, you decided to admire your best friend’s arms.

Everyone with eyes knew Leon was a catch. He was blessed with good looks, and a body that looked like it was chiselled by the Gods. Whether he knew it or not, he was dashing. You knew that, everyone did. 

Fortunately, (or unfortunately,) you had the pleasure of knowing what was behind that physical layer and found the treasure underneath. He was kind, endearing, always fought for what was right, and was overall, a really good guy.

And thus, the crush began. You’ve been hiding it pretty well, you’d think. He didn’t seem to notice anything. Besides, if he did, it’s not like you could do anything about it. He probably doesn’t feel the same..

As you went on your little thought train, your mind wandered deeper into the brainrot, thinking about how his arms would feel wrapped around you and embracing you in a warm hug..

“Can you like, hug me?”

Leon turned to you, giving you a look of confusion. “What?” 

Shit, did you say that out loud? FUCK.

Well, no turning back now.

“Uh- can you.. give me a hug?” You asked again, a little more embarrassed this time.

He was a little bit hesitant, but you reassured him that it was fine. And so he finally put his arms around you, gently pulling you towards him and resting your head on his shoulder. The position was not innocent at all. You were facing him, your chest against his as his arms wrapped around your waist and your head rested on his shoulder. 

 A little intimate for ‘best friends’, there. A little voice in your head spoke up, but you quickly shut it down, deciding to ignore it in favour of feeling the comfort of Leon’s arms around you.

Even if he doesn’t like you in the same way, then at least… you can still enjoy the feeling of being his best friend. Enjoy this hug. 

Your shoulders slumped a little at that thought. 

--

Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck, the holiest of fucks. What in the actual hell am I doing?

Leon silently panicked to himself as he held you in his arms. Was he really doing this? Was this real? Did he or did he really not have his best friend/long-time crush in his arms right now? And you’re the one that asked for the hug? This was a dream come true. 

Maybe… this is a hint that they like me? He thought to himself, before dismissing the thoughts. No.. they probably don’t feel the same way. 

He heard a little yawn from you, betraying your fatigue. “You wanna sleep?” He asked, to which you nod in response to. “Alright..” Acknowledgement comes from him in the form of a soft whisper.

Fuck, they’re so cute when they’re tired.. He raised a hand from your waist to your back, drawing circles to help you fall asleep. He knew you deserved this. You’ve been running around settling the technical things since the blackout, no wonder you’d be just about ready to collapse. 

After about 20 minutes, he eventually feels you relax in his arms, your breathing slowing down to a calmer, more peaceful pace. A tell-tale sign that you’re asleep.

He sighs quietly, deciding to talk to himself as you sleep. “Why did I have to fall for you?” He whispers as he continues to draw circles on your back. “Why did it have to be you?” 

“You’re way out of my league. Stunning, smart, funny… God, I knew I’d never have a chance, but I just couldn’t help falling for you.”

It was really no wonder how he fell for you. You were everything he wanted, but he knew he’d never have you for a multitude of reasons.

“You’re much better off without me. You shouldn’t have to worry about someone who’ll die on you anytime I’m away. But fuck, I want you so bad.”

That was the truth. His job made it hard to maintain a relationship, he knew that, you knew that. In fact, every agent in the building knew it. Though there were no restrictions on having a family, most were either too busy to find love or chose not to for obvious reasons.

Leon held you tighter in his arms, being careful not to crush you. “I love you. So much. I know I can’t have you, but that’s fine. I’ll keep loving you from afar.” 

He sighed, thinking about why he was even spilling his heart out like this. “What am I saying? You can’t even hear me..” He chuckled mirthlessly.  His hand gently cradled the back of your head, a small smile on his face as he played with the hair on the nape of your neck. 

Unbeknownst to him, you were still awake. Half-asleep, but you heard everything.

Bonus:

The lights flickered back on, waking Leon up from his sleep. The power was back, and there was a clattering of the lock on the other side of the door.

“You two okay in there?” Hunnigan’s muffled voice called from the other side of the door. “We almost got the lock opened, just hold on.”

A few minutes later, the door opened, revealing a guy from facilities and Hunnigan standing in the doorway. “Oh, thank God you two are fine-” 

She stops in her tracks, spotting you in Leon’s arms, sitting on the floor. She blinks a few times, trying to connect the dots. “Did you two-” 

“Nothing happened.” Leon got up, carrying you with ease and walking out of the door. He did not want to speak of what happened, lest it caused a gossip storm among the employees. “Don’t tell anyone.” 

Hunnigan just followed along, kind of having this ‘whatever’ mindset. 

[tgmsunmontue]

Coming from my main SORRY but 🔥 and your choice, let the inspo guide you

😈😈😈

SO!

The Great Mashup AKA Twisters/Gorge/Maverick... Tagging @phisworld14 and @halestrom because quite frankly they don't get a say in the matter... (and your blog you actually use @hangmanbradshaw).

(For anyone not aware of this, then I refer you all to THIS POST HERE, and the 87 comments currently on it for reference).

This one haunts my every waking moment until I put it to bed and force myself to focus on one of my actual PROPER WIPs. But you've just opened a floodgate so I might need to save this answer as a draft so I can write and come back to it during my working hours... And I've put this under a cut now.

BUT.

I've been figuring out the order in which the possible canon movies would work, and I can only think that it would need to go Twisters, Gorge and then Maverick, because I feel like Drasa would be very much all up in Levi's shit about not talking to his family, because she LOVED her dad, and what the fuck does Levi think he's doing just not even attempting to make amends? Huh? (And that man is SO GONE on her, and if she wants a family, then he'll give her a fucking family, go and find Bradley and talk things out. Find Maverick and make a better effort at staying in touch...)

So it's while both Bradley and Maverick are in blackout comms that Levi and Drasa are trying to find them, and Levi is freaking out a little that HE DIDN'T EVEN SAY GOODBYE!!! He went black-ops, so he never considered that Bradley might one day be the one to die while on a mission, he's up in the sky, not doing hand-to-hand stuff (and Levi does not appreciate the fact that he's a fucking sniper and does all his best work FROM A DISTANCE).

BUT ALSO - Bradley's ability to hit that target with no guidance??? Levi is totally going to be all smug about him "teaching" Bradley that, and Bradley being "you didn't teach me shit" and cue another rough-housing fight while Jake, Tyler, Drasa and Kate are all just 🤨🤔😑🙄...

So I don't envision this fic as being overly long, but it having lots of little vignettes and slices of life from each person/couple.

Carole giving birth to surprise twins and Nick and Maverick being all proud like it was somehow them doing all the hard work and Carole sitting there like 😑😑😑.

Jake/Tyler's mum knowing she's having twins and being well prepared. (They've got three older brothers and she was REALLY HOPING for a girl... instead she got TWO MORE BOYS. Not borrowing from one of my friends at all there...)

Like when Tyler talks about Kate to Jake for the first time, and the Jake meets her and sees how happy his brother is??? (And GOD does he want that for himself, but he's bombing out on fucking Grindr, and his regular hookups with Bradshaw are becoming a little fraught maybe? Are they frienemies? Exes? Just flirted and never done anything about it? I haven't decided - but I just want Jake and Bradley BOTH to look at each other's twin and be like HOW DID I END UP WITH THE UNROMANTIC ONE??? (Except of course they haven't let those walls down, too scared to be vulnerable with each other, BUT NOW!!! THEY CAN!!! (Spoiler - they're not very good at it)).

ALSO - Levi and Tyler FRIENDSHIP along with Kate and Drasa friendship. Like these guys are both bonding over the fact that their twin brother is certifiable. In love, sure. But also this is NOT how you go about wooing someone? Like they look at each other and go... you seem normal - what the fuck happened WITH HIM???

I just... I am NOT NORMAL about this.

AT ALL.

[introvertpanda21]

DP x Batman x DCU Story Plot

(Long Rant)

Okay, I have another story idea in my head that I need to rant about. To anyone who reads this, just know that my knowledge about these fandoms came directly from fanfiction. Well, I have some knowledge of Danny Phantom's fandom, only watched like three or four episodes in the past. Do I know anything canon, absolutely not, but like that saying 'This is my headcanon'. Okay, I'm getting off-topic, I'm just gonna start and who knows maybe I'll one day write a fanfic based on these ideas of mine.

Okay, hopefully, my ranting makes sense, (excuse the grammar mistakes) but anyway, the idea in my mind starts with basically the ghost portal and the situation with Danny happening, and the whole ghosts coming out and Danny stopping them like the show basically. Okay, but one day the G.I.W. comes to Amity Park, and initially they are useless like in the show. However, within time they became competent, (I don't like them but, they are relevant to the plot) The Fentons, Jack, and Maddie become like lead scientists since they are obsessed with their work and the G.I.W. found their weapons vitals. (They aren't good parents to Danny and Jazz; I don't like how obsessed they are with their work that they basically are emotionally neglectful to Danny and Jazz [I know it's a show]) Anyways, the Fentons and the G.I.W. start to learn and discover that due to the portal that opened to the Infinite Relams, the ectoplasm had affected the citizens of Amity Park. Since they basically lived between the line of the living and the dead. This caused them to experience changes in their biology and in some cases, a number of them started to develop abilities or powers and are called liminals. (Though only those who have the most exposure to ectoplasm develop powers like young adults to babies) Like its more complex, but it's too much work to think more about it at the moment,

Oh, also the Lazarus pits are basically corrupt ectoplasm which is gonna be relevant to the plot. Since the G.I.W. learned about the possibility that ectoplasm can extend lifespans, the G.I.W. decided to use this to profit off. Basically, by creating the Anti-Ecto Acts and the biased sources about the ghosts and the Infinite Realms, they made anyone with ectoplasm in their system be considered non-being. (I haven't thought more about it, but basically, just excuses to justify experimenting on ghosts and Amity parkers.)

With this in mind, the G.I.W. decides to wipe Amity Park off the map and take all of Amity citizens whether dead or alive along with the ghosts that were residing in Amity Park as experimentation subjects. Oh, and the Amity citizens in the past tried to contact the Justice League, but they never got an answer, unknown to them that the reason was that the G.I.W. was basically causing a media blackout to prevent any outsiders from knowing what was happening. (A lot of Amity Parkers don't really have a lot of trust in the heroes, which is pretty understandable because of their experience.)

Amity Park basically gets wiped off the map and many of the people of Amity Park tried to fight back, but it was to no avail as a number of them basically got killed and those alive were taken as test subjects.

Oh, I forgot during this time Danny is the Ghost King but like technically not, honestly haven't thought about it more. Or like he's just a prince or maybe just normal Danny. (I haven't thought of the small details like this)

Anyways, back to the plot, months pass or like a year or two, don't know, but several Amity Parkers and some ghosts managed to escape during the G.I.W. attack and some of them were previously held in faculties by the G.I.W. but were rescued. Okay, so they are basically in hiding because they have really bad trust issues in trusting regular humans. (Which is reasonable, since the last time they trusted regular humans, it ended with them now being hunted by the G.I.W. and the government.) So, now they are struggling to survive and want to rescue the rest of their friends and families. So, basically, tensions are high among themselves.

(Also, I have this idea that Amity Parkers are decent fighters, not to the level of experienced heroes, but they can still put up a fight. Especially since ectoplasm grants them like super strength and their fingernails can turn into claws. Also, the young ones have developed like powers. They can also heal much faster. I don't know if this is canon in the show or fanon, but like the ghosts, they also started to share the culture of fighting against each other, but in a friendly sparring way.)

Also, during this time, the Justice League was getting reports of green-deformed monsters attacking different cities. This causes worries among the heroes since many of their attacks do no damage to them. (Batman gonna be up nonstop trying to do research on them) The only heroes that could really stop them were the Dark Justice members. So, anyway, the Justice League realized that they have a potential earth crisis and are trying to figure out why it's happening. (I don't fully have a full explanation for the reason, could be the Ancients or Observers in Infinite Realms sending them because of what the G.I.W. is doing. Or the G.I.W. is causing instability between the Infinite Realms and Earth due to their experiments on ectoplasm.)

So, while the heroes are trying to figure it out, back to the Amity citizens, a number of them are currently hiding in Gotham. Given that Gotham has ectoplasm even if it's slightly different. (ectoplasm lore?) Also, Lady Gotham offers them refuge in her city. And as fuck up Gotham is, Amity Park citizens are much pretty unfazed by the city since they lived in Amity Park.

Anyways, Tucker is currently living in Gotham with Sam and Wes after escaping from one of the G.I.W. facilities. The boy is traumatized due to the fuck up experiments he went through. But, he's determined to rescue not only Danny, Jazz, Elle, and Dan (I know, he's supposed to be like Danny's evil clone or something along the line, but the kid gonna get redemption, though he de-aged to a three-year-old. Well, the scenario in my head is that they all sort of de-aged, Danny and Elle are like seven and Jazz is like eleven) He also wants to save the others who are still being held as prisoners.

I haven't thought more plotwise, but I have been thinking of different scenarios. So, basically, Tucker gets told that he needs to get close to Tim Drake, one of the kids of Bruce Wayne in order to get access to some blueprint or machination or something in one of their offices or factories that would help them in rescuing the others. (Don't fully know science logic) He does so with the target in mind, but he doesn't expect to fall in love with Tim. My mind wants some romance, and I find the ship kind of cute, they probably enjoy each other company. Anyways, Tucker is now fighting against his feelings and his loyalty to the group, which wants to settle the score against G.I.W and the government.

Also, I have to concept that most of the Batfam are fully ecto contaminated with ectoplasm in their body, which is different from other Gothamites, who only have the scent of ectoplasm. So, like Tucker is literally fighting the urge to question how the hell Tim has ectoplasm in his system especially since it feels like corrupted. And especially after he met briefly with Jason, Tucker probably questioned how the fuck did Tim's brother exactly died and if they know what ectoplasm is, and if he should tell them that they are technically considered non-beings according to the laws. I also have scenarios of Batfamily moments, they have their traumas, but they love each other and are protective of each other. (My family is dysfunctional as it is, whether it fanon the Batfamily truly love each other even if they have their moments.)

Another concept I have is related to Wes, (I know that boy is like a cameo for like one episode or whatever) He's part of the Phantom group, and his experience in one of the G.I.W. bases was the worst. He went through some experiments with Lazarus' water, which basically affected his body like Jason, and now he had to experience Pit Madness. He sort of dies during these experiments and the G.I.W. scientists use Lazarus's water to see the effects or something along the lines. Especially since Ra al Ghul is one of their sponsors, since he's obsessed with immortality so, he is willing to do anything to achieve it.

For now, this is sort of the rough beginning my brain has for this story idea. Maybe I'll make a part two if my brain decides to incorporate more ideas.