#then fuck it i guess its time to brawl

[thewitchqueen281]

wyll is great but also insane like don't call him sensible. this man disapproves when I play along with any bad guy because stARTING A FIGHT WHILE SURROUNDED IS A VERY BAD IDEA WYLL.

this man sees any evil person and demands it fight him right then and now despite the fact we can get them in a better position for us in just a few minutes with no lives lost like king i love you but JESUS CHRIST

[averys-happy-space]

oh im going to kill myself

[mistydeyes]

opposite of a meet cute

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summary: Not everyone can have a cute story about how they met and that's clear when you tell the story of how you met your significant other. From punches to car accidents, your way of meeting your future husband was definitely unique.

pairing: 141 x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, mild injury/violence, bodily fluids? (its someone throwing up a drink and i think you can guess who)

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price - during a bar fight

As Price walked down the Saturday night street, he kept to himself and casually peered into the busy bars and pubs. He was on his way back from his favorite cigar shop and was comforted by the brisk weather and the cacophonies of conversations. He was almost to his townhome when he passed a loud pub. His pleasant walk was interrupted by two men fighting loudly. He could hear the sounds of swearing and the sickening impact of punches being thrown. He thought of crossing the street but it was clear that this wasn’t going to end anytime soon. He watched as people just observed the fight and no one was intervening as the street was filled with the sound of fists contacting and groans. He wondered where the fuck the bouncers were and why no one had called the police yet.

"Don't be a hero, John, don't be a fucking hero," he kept saying in his mind as he watched the chaos unfold. His hands balled into fists on the warm inside of his jacket and everything was screaming at him to just continue walking. He could have just crossed the street and let someone else handle the situation. But of course, he couldn’t let these two drunk assholes continue and he went in to break up the fight. In the mayhem, a few punches were thrown his way and Price decided to deliver some defensive moves of his own. However, his punch made contact with someone other than the two drunkards. Around the same time, you were headed back to your flat after a late-night snack run and came upon the fight. You moved through the gathering crowd of cameras and jeers until you came upon the scene. Price would later make fun of your lack of self-preservation but in that moment, you decided to be a good person and tried to end the drunken punches and swears. That's how you ended with a hard punch to your nose. You swear you could see stars as you tried to stand up straight. Staggering backward, you fell onto the concrete as Price rushed over. You could feel blood drip down your lip as he helped you get back up. His eyes were filled with worry as he tried to assess the damage. Thankfully, the bouncer finally came out and put an end to the stupid brawl.

“You broken?” he asked as you sat on the bench outside the loud pub. If he hadn’t gotten you ice and piles of tissues after the punch, you would’ve thought it was a threat. Your nose was pooling blood for a few moments and the air smelled of sickly iron. “I’ll be alright, the bouncer said it wasn’t broken,” you replied as you continued to hold the ice to your throbbing nose. You chatted for a while as the pain dulled and he even offered you a cigarette. You declined as your entire face was still throbbing mildly but enjoyed that his cigar took away the smell of blood rather quickly. "That was stupid, you know?" he said to you after a long drag, "you shouldn't have intervened." You laughed and winced a little at the pain. "I'm stupid? You were the one throwing punches," you joked and you both shared a laugh.

Eventually, you felt well enough to head home and John even booked you an Uber so you wouldn’t have to walk the late-night streets back to your flat. You didn't mind the free ride and happily accepted. As you sat in silence waiting for your ride, you thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask him something. “Not to be blunt, but I’d like to see you under better circumstances,” you said and you cringed at your stuffed-up voice. He laughed and you felt a little embarrassed at your offer. “Not many people would say that after a punch,” he began as he looked at you under the glow of the pub’s sign, “but I’d like that.” You exchanged details before he led you to your Uber, making sure you were safely on the way home.

soap - in a pub

"C’mon Y/N let’s just stay for another drink,” your friend begged. This was the third pub you had been to that night and were already feeling drunk from the countless number of beers and shots. Your friend from uni was in town and she thought you were 18 again. “Alright alright one more,” you agreed and flagged down the bartender for another round of beers and a shot. "My turn to pick," you smiled and your friend flipped you off. "Two pickleback shots please plus the beers," you asked and the bartender went off to make the concoction. "You are the devil," she said as he returned and you jokingly cheered her shot glass of whiskey. You winced as you washed down the brown liquor with a shot of pickle juice. Your friend was fully gagging after. “Jesus I don’t know how you do those,” your friend joked and she hurriedly chugged her beer. “Practice,” you winked and cheered her glass. You talked about some menial topic when you were interrupted by a group of men coming in. You could tell the minute they stepped in, they were army men on leave based on their broad figures that maneuvered through the crowded pub. What was more obvious was that this probably wasn’t their first stop. You smiled slightly as you saw them laugh loudly and clumsily walk up to the counter. They found four seats next to you and you rose your glass in a toast as they ordered.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what’s a good shot here?” one of the men tapped your shoulder. You turned from your friend and smiled at his politeness. “Pickleback,” you answered and in the corner of your eye, you could see your friend shaking her head in refusal. “Four pickleback shots,” the man called to the bartender and she nodded in response. “Thanks for the recommendation, name’s Johnny by the way,” he said and stuck out his hand. You shook it gingerly and replied with a “Welcome home soldier.” “How’d you know?” he asked as the bartender delivered their drinks. “I’m real familiar with your military types,” you joked, “enjoy the shot.” With that, he turned to his comrades and they took the shot of whiskey. Two out of the four men took it effortlessly but the other two, including the mohawked one, winced. “No no no you got to take the pickle juice after,” you laughed and you pushed the glass over to Johnny. He grabbed it, some whiskey still in his mouth, and tried to swallow it.

You laughed at his disgusted face but moments later you were coated with liquor and pickle juice. Now it was his friends’ turn to start laughing. “I-I am so sorry,” he stammered as he grabbed some napkins and tried to help sop up the mess. One of his friends returned with a pile of wet paper towels. “Sorry about him, we’ll cover your tab,” the man smiled as you dabbed your shirt. “It’s really okay that shot is definitely something else,” you joked as Johnny kept trying to help. You were heading home anyways and had had much worse spit up on you, so your spirits were uncharacteristically cheery. You were about to head out when Johnny stopped you gently. “I know this was an awful first impression, but can I take ya out to a proper drink?” he asked and you could tell he was bracing for rejection. “Sure,” you smiled as your friend stood waiting. You exchanged numbers and before you left, you made sure to leave him with a sarcastic comment. “As long as no more pickle shots,” you winked and you left him embarrassed as his mates laughed hysterically.

gaz - through a car accident

Kyle prided himself on being a good driver. Naturally, his job meant he had to be ready to steal a getaway vehicle or be able to shoot and drive at the same time. It was hard not to have the same mentality when he was on leave. He drove defensively but sometimes the traffic in London made him want to drive on the shoulder and bypass the long lanes of cars. “Let’s go!” he yelled as the stop-and-go traffic was ruining his day of groceries and errands. The constant honks started to give him a headache. As he slammed on the brakes again, he couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh. You were in the same boat. You had just gotten out of your 9-5 and just wanted to relax at home with a book and a glass of wine. You turned up the volume on your stereo higher as the music drowned out the annoyed energy from the cars around you. You tapped your fingers on the wheel as the lights changed from red to green and the cars began to move at a snail's pace. You slowly built up speed and followed the car in front of you.

You were a little over the 48 km speed limit before the vehicle in front slammed on its brakes. You wish you had better reflexes as you rammed your car into their bumper. You held your face as the impact of the airbags left you dizzy and disoriented. You exited the car in your shaken state. Kyle was pissed at first at the driver who wasn't paying attention and the biker who entered the crosswalk. However, when he saw you holding your head, his anger turned into worry. “Are you alright?” a man called to you as you walked up to his car. “I’m so sorry,” you began to say as you looked at his dented bumper and your crushed front. “It’s my fault, some fucking biker entered the crosswalk,” he began to say as he held your chin to look at your injuries. You noticed your nose was bleeding slightly and he grabbed a tissue out of his pocket for you. “I already called the authorities, they’ll be here soon,” he replied and you both sat on the curb.

You exchanged contacts and insurance before the police finally arrived. It took a while as they had to maneuver through the afternoon traffic so it allowed you to chat with the other driver. You learned he was from the area and was actually on leave. “What a shitty way to spend it,” you joked as you watched the cars direct around the wrecked vehicles. “I’m sorry about your car,” he apologized as he started at the wreckage. “It’s alright, glad you didn’t kill that biker,” you replied and he laughed in response. You swear you wish all of your car accidents were like this. The other driver, Kyle, insisted on having them assess you for a concussion first before they went into any details. You laughed at his worry as you were more concerned about your damaged vehicle. By the time it was over, you sadly watched as your car was towed away. You stood on the sidewalk as you tried to figure out what to do next. “You find a ride?” Kyle asked as he prepared to enter his vehicle. “Yeah my friend was in the area so he’s on his way,” you smiled and he nodded. “I’ll be sure to reach out,” he replied before waving off and signaling back into the traffic.

Eventually, your friend showed up and immediately asked for all the details. You were sure to fill him in, throwing in that you were happy the other driver was as kind and as handsome as Kyle. Your friend laughed when you finished. “Don’t tell me you fancy the man who got you into an accident,” he said through a string of laughter. “Maybe I do,” you said as your fiddled with your phone, Kyle’s contact smiling back at you.

ghost - the grocery store

Ghost rarely went to the grocers. He could count the number of times he went on his two hands. Being part of the 141 meant constant last-minute deployments so he learned over the years to stock up on canned food and pasta. Spoiled milk was not a pleasant thing to return home to. As he pushed the trolley down the aisles, he grabbed some of his non-perishable favorites. You too were making your way down the aisle, grabbing some essentials for the week and mentally checking off items in your mind. You pulled your trolley over to the side as you scanned for some boxes of spaghetti. Unfortunately, the boxes in question were positioned on the highest shelf. You made a pitiful attempt to grab it until you realized it wasn’t possible without a ladder. You looked around the aisle until you found a tall man who could definitely get the job done.

You walked over as he was looking for his own boxes of penne. “Hi sorry to ask but can you-” you began to ask as he looked up. “Just tell me how many you want,” he replied and walked over down the aisle. “Observant,” you said under your breath and pointed out the ones you wanted. He grabbed them with ease and handed them to you. “Thanks again,” you smiled before holding the two boxes in hand and looking at some quinoa for a new recipe you wanted to try. As Simon pushed the trolley past another aisle, he couldn’t deny he was glad you asked him to help. He had been slightly distracted by your valiant attempt and may have spent a few extra minutes in the aisle to see if you needed help.

However, he returned to his routine and another aisle. He was scanning for a can of soup when he saw a familiar face walk away with his trolley. "Hey that's mine," he replied in a voice louder than he had intended, you turned around and jumped a little. "No it's mine," you began to say but before you could finish, he joined in front of you. 'I'm certain this is mine, I pushed it from the other aisle," he corrected and you rolled your eyes. "Well look at what's inside and tell me if you still think that way," you said and gestured to the items. Simon could feel his ears get red as he saw bottles of sweet wine and the brand of pasta he had gotten for you. You stood there arms crossed as he came to the realization. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath and looked back at you. "I think you might have grabbed it before, I have your trolley over here," you replied and motioned over to his. "I'm sorry," he said quickly and you swear that's the fastest you've ever seen anyone walk away.

Simon hurriedly finished up his groceries and realized he probably was forgetting some items. He didn't care as he shoved items onto the conveyer belt. His ears were still flush from the embarrassing altercation. As he was adding more items, another customer came into the queue behind him. “Sorry about the mix-up,” you said and he turned to look at you. You were awkwardly adding your items as he stared for a minute. “Um, it was my mistake, don’t worry about it,” he replied and you swear he looked embarrassed. You took a moment to reply before an old woman behind you spoke up. “Are you going to get his number or am I going to have to find another register?” she joked and you turned back to the man blushing. “I’m Y/N,” you began, “and I guess this is me asking for your number.” You laughed nervously as your face heated up and the grocers suddenly felt warmer than before. “Simon,” he answered quietly, “and sure.” You grabbed your phone out of your purse and traded contacts. As you walked out with your bags, you saw Simon load his car and give you a small wave. You wondered if he would like to join you for dinner sometime this week.

[paddymoonstruck]

DEAR READER | C.L 16 (FOUR)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc X Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated French, degrading headline, people who don’t mind their own business

Note: There’s a reason I’m dragging the fuck out of this story. It’s gonna be worth it, I promise !!!!

❝Dear reader,

If it feels like a trap, you’re

already in one ❞

THE BRILLIANT ILLUMINATED ELEVATOR cradled through the rapidly infectious tension in Natalia’s bloodstream. The gap between her and the equally as anxious Monegasque caused the ongoing brawl in their heads to amplify. She glanced down at the carpeted flooring, casually shifting her gaze to the shuffling feet of her company.

She let her thoughts wonder somewhere else, opting to think about the disastrous path they had to conquer in order to acquire the tranquility they have at the moment. Although, her trembling hands and the intensive battering of her chest generated the thought that perhaps road raging in Charles’ Ferrari to avoid the prying eyes of the general public provided a greater deal of enjoyment than this.

“I was thinking,” Charles spoke, moistening his drought lips. “Since it’s your first time here in Netherlands, I’d like you to try authentic Dutch dishes from the restaurant the team took me to last year.”

Natalia nodded, half of her mind floating into a dreamless space. “That sound great,” She faced him, hoping to defy the rising tide of her anxiety. “I honestly didn’t know anything about Dutch culture until I did a quick research about their food.”

Charles didn’t contain his smile, finally looking at the brunette. His gaze journeyed to her luscious naturally straight chestnut locks, previously tied into a neat ponytail but was now released from the gathered style, falling graciously passed her shoulders.

He snapped back into his regular self as he reached the line of her eyes. Immediately saving himself as he followed up on her statement. “Oh? And what did you find?”

Charles despised the way she’d tuck her bottom lip in her every time she needed a second to gather her thoughts. Couldn’t she just think like a normal person?

“Apparently, there’s this food called Profferjes?” She struggled pronouncing the supposed name given to the delicacy she was referring to.

Charles’ face brightened in amusement at her confused appearance but he nevertheless, nodded, having an idea of what she was talking about.

“The mini pancakes?”

Rhapsody laved across her once perplexed expression, pointing a finger at his direction before confirming his guess.

“Yes! That one— but I think they only serve them in the morning,” She sighed, eyes lingering at Charles. A sudden concept bubbled in her mind, showing in her face as a small simper.

The judgement was also beginning to bloom on Charles’ face as he took note of the naught sparkle in Natalia’s orbs.

“Unless— you know—” She drawled her words, making the smile on the receiver of her antics widen. “Charles Leclerc were to call in—”

He disintegrated into a pile of frenzy at that. Clutching his stomach as his laughter, joined in by Natalia’s own, bounced uncontrollably against the four walls of the enclosed space.

“I’m not sure they’d do their beloved Max Verstappen’s rival a favor.” He acknowledged.

“Oh—right.” Natalia had completely forgotten that Max was Dutch. She knew Charles meant it as a joke but the harsh reality seemed to have overtaken its intended merits.

Then again, she was quick to dispel the impending depressive state. “You know, according to my research, Dutch people are very friendly even if they like speak their mind . . .”

An appreciative hum sounded at the back of Charles’ throat, thankful for her efforts of comfort and the ding of the elevator that indicated their arrival to his floor.

In an unconscious move, he reached for Natalia’s hand, grasping it gently in his. To which the latter responded by gawking at him while they both stalked through the nicely lit corridor.

Charles’ room was two doors away from the very last one, and when they arrived, he tapped in his key card, never seeming to have the intention of releasing the chilling palm that rested in his hold.

As the door opened, along with the grating creak of the door was the heightening of Natalia’s senses. The fresh scent of lavender infiltrated the previous musing scouring at her wits.

She inhaled the saving grace of her sanity, finding the soothing aroma also matched the overall aesthetic of his room.

The fuzzy brown carpet at the center of the room adorned the flooring, to which an oval glass coffee table was placed

“Sit wherever you want,” He said, freeing her hand. “Make yourself feel comfortable.”

As he started to walk away, Natalia bent down balancing her weight with her hand on the doorframe as she untied the laces of her boots.

Charles turned to her, hearing the sudden rustling. “You don’t have to take your shoes off,”

She immediately halted her actions, eyebrows wrinkled at the absurdity of all that. “There’s no way I’m stepping my shoes on a carpet,”

The crease in her eyebrows worsen at that thought of her mother. She could almost see the utter disgust on her face when she finds out Europeans don’t particularly care for what she called “unknown bacteria” spreading through their home.

She set her boots aside, plopping on the pearl colored seating. “My mom would’ve strangled you if she heard you say that,”

Her remark made Charles chuckle, shaking his head on his way to the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Depends.” She thought, reaching for a magazine on the coffee table. “What are you having?”

Natalia heard a series of cabinet creaking followed by clinks of what she assumed was glass.

“Well, of you’re craving something sweet, I have orange juice and iced tea,” He replied, peaking his head on the doorframe.

Charles took in the sight of Natalia’s wandering eyes on his apartment, ignoring the sudden pang of nervousness creeping up on him.

The curious girl whipped her head towards his waiting figure, lips pursing with a uncaring shrug. “I’m good with that. But if you want to drink something. . . stronger, I wouldn’t judge.”

She watched the chuckle bloom out of Charles’ relaxed features, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

While he was arranging beverages, Natalia reviewed what he had observed from his apartment.

Firstly, she found it surprising that he owned a living space in this country. Him always hopping on a jet to different countries every week, defeats the purpose of buying one. It didn’t look like he used it often either.

It had one of those minimal modern designs. Like the ones she’d see whenever she was at Summit Furniture, a furniture store she frequented at in Monaco. She currently sat on a white polyester loveseat with tapered rosewood legs that angled outwards. It all seemed like they’ve just been bought yesterday. No scratches on the wooden legs nor flaws in the fabric seating. Same goes for the rest of his furniture that she had seen so far.

The television looked like it had yet to serve its purpose and the tables be marked with any stain or evidences of usage.

Her deep observation caused a barricading and tension within her sense. The unbelievable tidiness and perfection of her surroundings made her more conscious of her actions.

“Here we are!” Charles’ unforeseen appearance rattled her core, prompting her to sit up straighter. He had brought a tray of various drinks.

Natalia eyed the colorful liquids in different types of glasses. Some in one in a high ball, champagne and cocktail glass. Beside those were a bottle of Heineken and Jenever.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trapping the laughter threatening to pull through, settling for a supportive nod.

“I’m guessing this is the orange juice?” She plucked the high ball glass from the tray, a teasing smile adorning her face.

“Yes, it is,” Charles took out his phone, the unwavering nerves still present in his veins. “I know I said I’ll order for you, but here’s the menu, you might see something you like—”

She raised his hands, shaking her head. “Trust me, the only food I’m sure are gonna be are Stroopwafel and those ball shaped snack I ate at the paddock. Besides, I’m not picky with food, I’ll swallow anything you give me.”

Charles’ thumbs stopped their typing, his lips thinning at the intrusive thought in his head.

Anything, huh?

“You’re disgusting—”

“I didn’t say—”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to! It’s written all over your face!” Natalia growled, motioning to the idiotic smirk hanging of his face across her.

“Think what you want,” Charles chimed, resuming his attention to his device. “That’s what I’m doing anyway hmpf—”

A soft object suddenly collided at his face, laughing as he realized that Natalia had thrown a pillow at him.

He removes it from obstructing his view, glancing up at the glowering figure in front of him, now bringing her lips close to the tall glass of juice.

“Give the phone. . .” She said, extending her arm forwards for Charles to pass her the device.

He hands it to her, inclining his body towards her. “I personally love Hachee, it’s meat with mash potatoes and gravy—”

“Frog legs!”

Charles stopped talking, staring stupidly at her exclamation. A wide smile plastered on her face as she turned the phone towards him and pointed to the certain dish.

“You eat frogs?” Charles didn’t mean for it to sound condescending, but the overpowering shock at this discovery halted all sense of thinking.

“Yeah? And?” At her defensive tone, Charles quickly held his hands up, waving them at her.

“No! That’s not what I mean!” He scratched the back of his head, hoping to ward away the embarrassment of his mistake. “I-I just mean, you’re the first girl I’ve met who’s actually excited to eating frogs,”

Natalia raised an eyebrow at Charles. “That can’t be true, frogs are eaten a lot in Manaco,”

“Doesn’t mean everybody likes them,” Charles remarked, taking the bottle opener from the table before twisting it on a Heineken beer.

Natalia watched him take a sip, crossing her arms at his statement. “You mean to say— of all the Monegasque girls you’ve dated— not a single one ate frogs?”

Charles felt amusement trickling at his through as he spotted the doubt on her face. “Well, I did let them try it.” He restored. “But they either pretended to like it or just straight up told me, quite frankly that they’d rather eat dirt.”

Natalia lights up at that, bringing her hands together in an mirthful clap. “At least some were honest about it,”

Charles nodded, glancing up at her as he began to wonder wether or not he should consume more alcohol to gain the courage to ask her questions that may be deemed too personal. Threading lightly on the subject, he reached for the Daquiri, giving in to its undeniable seductive calling.

“Is it a common food in the Philippines?” He asked, eyes traveling to the curvature of her expression.

Natalia’s lips disconnected from the cold glass rim, licking away the numbness spreading through her mouth. “Not exactly all over the country, but in my province, we do eat it a lot,” A mirror of nostalgia passes by her eyes, slotting in the depths of her memories.

Charles observed as she spaced out, blankly staring at the wooden coffee table. Instead of snapping her out of her trans, he waited patiently for her to regain her train of thought.

Blinking rapidly, the fog of her brain slowly disappeared, a large intake of breath released from her lungs before she cleared her throat.

As she craned her neck back to the person she was talking to, her heart lurched at her throat at the intensity of his stare. His eyes were drowned in unbelievable intent, as if she’d disappear if he was to look away.

“Let’s play that game again,” He said, softly.

“What?”

“That game in the car. 20 questions,” He clarified, tilting his head at her, “I want to play it again.”

Dread filled her mind, mouth beginning to ache, along with the slight tremble of her voice. “Why?”

“We’re going to spend a lot of time together,” He pointed out. “I’ve know you for quite a while but I don’t know anything about you. . .”

“There’s nothing to know,” She huffed, eyebrows coming together in a pinch. “My life isn’t interesting in the slightest.”

Charles narrowed his eyes at her, careful not to overstep. “I’ll ask basic questions then,”

She scrunched her face up at him. “Like what?”

With his eyes on her, he shrugged. “How did you end up in Monaco?”

“That’s not—” She sighed, pulsing her palms into an alternating clench. Her hands came up to snatch the beer off the table, taking a large gulp of it.

This was not a good idea from the start but then again, she made no complaints about it either.

Setting the bottle down with a loud clank, she tuts at his waiting figure. “I applied for the scholarship grant, almost failed the final interview, found out I didn’t, and— lo and behold, I’m here.”

The vagueness of her answer made Charles roll his eyes. “You almost failed? Why?” He questioned.

Natalia frowned at him, wagging her finger up at his line of vision. “No—no, it’s my turn,”

Charles sighed, defeated, downing a shot of tequila as the former thought of her first question. “Who’s your favorite sibling?”

Taken aback, he smiled at her random choice of words. “I don’t have one,”

His answer was met by a judgmental glance. “Boo! Everybody has one. Come on!”

Hesitation reeled him in with the desire to end thos query immediately. So, with all the shame warped into a giant ball in his heart. Je all but murmured a name.

“Sorry, say that again?” He could practically feel the teasing smirk on her face as she neared her ear on his mouth.

His eyes fluttered close, amusement and annoyance dancing at his veins. “I said, Arthur—”

She laughed, finding his imminent torture to have soothe her pounding heart. “Don’t feel bad, it’s pretty obvious anyway,”

At that, Charles didn’t indulge in her usual provocative style. Instead, thwacking her back with another personal question.

“What do your parents to for a living?”

She coughed, the sharp taste of alcohol pricking at her throat as it violently drew back to her nose.

“Are you okay?” The concern etched visible at the lines of Charles’ face as he stood up to hand her a tissue. He sat next to her, plucking more out of the box as she attempted to stop the liquid pouring out from her nostrils.

She gratefully took the tissue from him, blowing her nose into it. She would’ve found it embarrassing as she heard the disgusting noise it made as she emptied her now stinging nose of the culprit if it weren’t for her spinning mind.

She wiped her jeans, trying to play it cool as she responded. “My parents— My mom was an accountant and my dad— he. . . used to trade oil.”

Charles peaked onto her face, wiping of the remnants of beer on her cheek. “What’s wrong with that?”

Natalia swallowed the painful block of her throat, hand coming up to where he had his on her face. “Nothing. . . I-it’s not their jobs. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask about my parents.”

“We—”

The loud ringing of a phone interrupted their conversation. Natalia felt the vibration in her bag before she realized it was hers.

This dispelled the heavy ambiance of the atmosphere, waking the occupants from their trance.

Oh shit, Natalia thought as she saw the caller’s name flash on her phone.

Nicolas Todt

As soon as she pressed the green button signifying her death, the device was gone, only to be taken by the tutting Monegasque beside her.

She immediate shuffled up, desperately trying to get the phone out of his grip. It was too late, however, as he stood up at the sound of his manager’s voice.

Deflating in defeat, Natalia hopelessly smothered her head on the soft cushion’s of the couch.

“Hello?”

“What are yo— Hello? Charles? Is that you?”

Natalia winced at the pure hostility in Nicolas’ tone. Even after figuring out that the taker of the call was indeed his well-loved client, it didn’t quell the scorching heat of his flaming outrage.

“Oui c'est moi. Quoi de neuf?” Yes, it’s me. What’s up?

In contrast to Charles’ collected attitude, Natalia could feel her insides churning slowly into a blob of mush. Her only wish was for Charles not to ruin this job for her was beggining to whither away with the his careless actions.

“Quoi de neuf?” What’s up? Nicolas echoed, his sharp scoff going through the phone’s speaker and stabbing Natalia directly in the deepest part of her chest.

“Vous n'avez pas vérifié votre téléphone?” He spat, as it were acid poured on his tongue.

At the word phone, Natalia’s head shot up from the condoling compressor of her resting place, panicking as she searched for her phone.

The cumulus fog accumulating her head, clouded the clarity of her thinking, making her forget that someone else had possessed the thing she was looking for.

Charles nodded along to the string of profanities Nicolas kept rambling through his ear, shifting her attention to the frightened girl on his couch. Her heightened vigilance evident as trembling her hands patted wildly along his furniture.

He aided her frantic movements with a soft brush of his hand on her cheek, tapping his thumb on her paled skin.

Natalia whipped her head around to face him, breathing out of sigh of relief as she followed his finger pointing to his phone.

Wasting no time, she snagged it off the table, nearly shoving it on Charles’ face when it demanded a passcode after failing the face recognition system.

Charles careened his head backwards to avoid the object barreling into his face.

Natalia waited, anxiously fiddling with the stitchings of her clothing, as the daunting atmosphere worsened every second that passed by.

She almost tore Charles’ entire arm from his body by the vast amount of force she exerted at him. Quickly tapping on Google app, her hands shook as they hovered over the keys, thoughts failing to conjure words she needed.

“Charles Leclerc girlfriend. . .” A whisper came next to her.

She gritted her teeth at the awful joke. Perhaps as knew it wasn’t an impossible headline. It dawned to her the severity of their offense as she typed his name on the search bar.

It appears that her groan of indignation was loud enough for Nicolas’ ears as Natalia heard his mocked version of it despite being on Charles’ space.

“Did you see it?” Nicolas queried, his tone unreadable.

Natalia turned the screen to Charles’ vision. And the idiot had the audacity to laugh.

Merely hacking into his balled fist, the presence of his teeth behind his lips irritated both Nicolas and Natalia.

In disgustingly big letters, the headline read:

Natalia swiped at the screen, ticking her brow in victory as the smile drained visibly off his face at what she had shown.

“Now, that’s not funny. . .”

You don’t say. . .” She gritted, padding a hand on her chest to feign shock.

Charles offered her an apologetic pat on the head of the sneering girl. The latter slapped his hand away, force firm but not enough to do any harm.

Natalia could hear the faint murmurs of Nicolas before his voice was amplified by Charles’ simple tap of the speaker phone.

“Listen, both of you,” He commended. “Gossip magazines aren’t exactly fond of what ever it is you’re doing.”

“I am so sorry—”

“You are not.” The dripping venom in his tone made Natalia flinch back, leaning away from the source of his voice as if he were to pop out of the screen. “I don’t know what you were both thinking but luckily social media loved your little rendezvous.”

Silence fell between the scolded individuals, eyes creeping up to see the other’s reaction. Like staring directly at a mirror, they alined body language that could only be read as confusion.

“So. . . That means?” Natalia trailed, leveling her vocals in light of steering clear of another possible volcanic eruption from Nicolas.

“It means. . .” Nicolas pressed, annoyance still present. “You have to continue your. . . what you call it?”

Natalia listen intently as Nicolas asked someone for the word he was searching for. “The what? Oh— yes that. . . Your situationship.”

“Ew no!” Natalia’s extreme protest was met with sheer bewilderment on Charles’ part, struggling to process the meaning of the foreign term.

“What is that? What’s a situationship?”

At his question, Natalia stirred back to him, giving him a look of disbelief. Nicolas on the other hand simply clicked his tongue, sighing brfore supplying the answer to his client.

“They’re two people who have no sense of direction regarding their relationship.” He explained, and though he cannot see the expression on Charles’ face, he knew very well what it was.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Natalia’s jaw slackened, palm slapping on his forehead. And although she knew Nicolas’ explanation of situationship was a fairly watered down version of the real deal, she didn’t have the strength to further Charles’ knowledge on the subject.

Nicolas ignored his question. “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. I advise you to not step out of that building until daylight.”

Natalia’s eyes widened at that. “What? You want me to stay here?”

“Certainly.” He concluded.

Sensation drained completely from her body. The electric feeling of lacking blood, slowly spread in an infectious manner. With it, the chill of reality came to set in.

“I’ve already informed Toto of the situation.”

As if it wasn’t enough, after hearing that, the lavender scent of the atmosphere that was thought to have the a calming effect seemed impotent, in comparison to the vigorous hold this ghastly chain of anxiety had on her.

Of all the things she feared, the idea of disappointing Toto Wolff and Susie Wolff was an absolute nightmare. How could she face the people who gave her the opportunity of a life time if she were to do dim-witted things like this?

In the midst of her internal battle, her head stirred to the cause of her misbehavior. He just so happened to be looking at her as well.

Unlike the pointed glare she blatantly jabbed into his face, Charles offered her a worried glance that could bloom flowers on his pretty little head.

Despite her scornful demeanor, she couldn’t shake away the guilt of being in this position. She was aware that it wasn’t Charles’ fault alone but perhaps putting all the blame in him would ease her desire to simply jump on a boat and abandon everything she ever dreamed in her life.

Natalia recoiled at the sudden warmth on her arm. Look towards the source, she relaxed at the sight of Charles’ hand on her skin.

He had ended the call, sitting back down on his previous place. “How do you want to do this?”

Natalia heaved a heavy sigh, afraid that the force might collapse her lungs. “I honestly can’t think of anything else but being fired. . .”

Charles took her hand in a grip that he could only hope held the comfort he was trying to induce. “You won’t. I’m the reason you’re here. I’ll talk to them.”

“You better. . .” She huffed, shoving a strong palm at his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look my classmates in the eye when I have to go back to University, though.”

“When do you have to go back?” He asked.

“In three days. We have to submit a report every two weeks regarding our performance.” She expounded, thinking about the sour look on her headmaster’s face at the sight of his achingly popular student walking in her office.

“Well, in that case, you can say that you helped me increase my fanbase by 2% in just three weeks.” Charles tried to provide a consolation.

Natalia hummed, lips curling as she was reminded of that information. “You make it sound like I’m a one-man team. . .” She shook her head.

She was sure that Charles’ PR team wouldn’t appreciate her taking all the credit for the improvements in the Ferrari driver’s personal accounts.

“Probably not. But most of it was your idea.”

It was intended to aid the boisterous voices crowding the little space left in her brain that wasn’t consumed by the nauseating noise of failure but alas proved to be ineffective as she abruptly stood up and took her phone from Charles’ lap.

Tapping the number she knew would cover the gaping hole of fear continuously scraping at her brain.

She watched as her phone started ringing, the name of her partner in crime flashing on the screen.

Lissie

[ikkosu]

So you know when you wear shorts in summer in a car with a leather seat that your legs stick to it sometimes? I've actually almost fallen out of car bc of that. And because of this experience, may I request this happening to the reader with any autobot of your choice?

THROUGH the glaze of the windshield, traffic churns at a slow, steady pace. Pistons chuff, creak and groan; beaten down by the glare of the sun, little by little the mottled blurs of car start to file out.

Everytime, you think you're going to wrangle out of this hellhole — a wide gap-like opening, blaring out like the heavens for freedom — you find yourself stuck in another junction, relapsing in the same fucking problem.

Stuck in the same place. Between mesh metal of blistering, practically burning from the sun, hot cars.It also doesn't help how raw to the bone hot the weather is.

Heat is seething through the Aircon. You're practically drenched, and the discomfort of having an already wet shirt matted to your wet spine is exacerbated by the goddamn ire before your eyes.

There's a truck, in front of you.

A very old truck.

And, fast?

Not it's greatest virtue.

A lump of irritation bites its way through your teeth. The backside of the truck sputters with black fumes. You're about to relinquish the title of an honorable citizen, when the radio warbles with a staticky breedle.

"You're getting sweat all over the seats, pipsqueak." Comes his sardonic chuff. The insignia lits up with every sass induced spool of his words.

At that you lift up your thighs, a kind of schlap followed after as a result of very sweaty skin latching on leather.

"Suck it cop-bot," You pat the steering wheel. "That's what you get for having shitty air conditioning."

A growl revved up from the engine. The wheel whirls away from your touch three-sixty at max speed.

"You can't expect me to accept the blame, can I? When all there is out there under that— that blisteringly — whatever you call that slag of a weather, is hot fraggin' air."

You blink at the sudden venom in his tone. Prowl's usually, eh usually, the type to keep it down when he's about to lose it : a scowl and a sharp tongue is good enough for lacerating the source of his ire.

For him to snap? Yikes. That takes a lot. A hefty lot. Even with Smokescreen, concierge of shenanigans — worst he's got is a swift chuck to the brig and cleaning duty for a year. And, that's just with a scowl and a low, steady tone.

Guess Cybertronians aren't immune to hot days, either huh. Sun's that bad.

"Is it getting to you too, Prowler?"

"What do you think?" He bites back. "Look at the thermometer. It's exceeding above the usual range of what a normal temperature should be. It's draining up the power in my cooling fans which drains up my fuel, which drains up energon. Which, at this moment, is scarce."

"Hard times, Prowler." You shake your head solemnly. "Hard times."

"You don't get a say in this." He grits out.

The car leers forward with a sudden jerk and your forehead kisses the steering wheel. Not the flat surface where the insignia lies but the edge. You know, the round handle? Bubbles of pain shoot out from the spot and you groan.

"What?" You whined. "It's already hot enough with my ass sticking to your seat — you can't leave me with any more bruises worse than this, alright?"

"Then keep that mouth shut. Or I'm shutting it off for you."

" We're stuck in traffic, though." You grope the steering wheel, grinning at the irritated growl of an engine when he tries to steer it away.

"Will you cut it."

"Hunkering down on a quick brawl in the street doesn't really contribute to the whole," You waggle your hands. " bots in disguise, kind of thing. Not really your style. Doesn't fit you, prowler. Doesn't seem to fit the muse of a..." You trail off, playful and purposeful with your tone. "...law enforcer."

He's quiet for a moment.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh."

He laughs : a quick sarcastic 'hah' and a chuff.

"Get out."

Yep. There, it is.

"Duly noted."

Your fingers wrangle the door knob. And, as soon as you struggle to pry it open you realize Prowl is keeping it locked.

"Where'd the angry coppa go?" You huffed.

"Oh, you'll see."

"Open the—huh?"

Your fingers grasps the open air, twitching around nothingness. The momentum propels you to slide off your sweat-lathered seat, lurching forward and face first into the hot, concrete road.

[thydungeongal]

I can't believe you'd just drop that Rolemaster has "very unique metaphysics" and leave it like that. Could you talk a bit more about it?

So okay. At the heart of Rolemaster there's the fact that it was made by a bunch of guys who thought D&D wasn't crunchy and "realistic" enough. These people also thought that D&D clearly didn't have enough stats. They were also obsessed with symmetry. Now that I've laid the foundations, let me go further in depth:

D&D was clearly unrealistic because it only had six stats. There needed to be more. The way they decided to go about this was to divide each of D&D's stats into two pairs of closely related stats. They first paired off Strength and Constitution, and then went to work: splitting Dexterity into Agility and Quickness, Intelligence into Empathy and Reason, Wisdom into Intuition and Memory, and Charisma into Presence and Self-Discipline.

Now, at this point in time it had already been established in D&D, that Intelligence was the stat related to Magic-User and Illusionist spells (which would later come to be known in D&D as Arcane magic) and Wisdom was the stat related to Cleric and Druid spells (which would later come to be known in D&D as Divine magic). Rolemaster implemented those types of magic, calling them Essence (the "Magic-User" type magic, the rawest form of magic in the fiction of Rolemaster, its governing stat being Empathy [a really weird name for a stat that actually is, like, how well you're in tune with the world?]) and Channeling (the "Cleric" type of magic, magic that flows from the divine, and magic closely related to life, its governing stat being Intuition).

At this point one of the designers probably went "Wait a minute this fucking sucks: why isn't there a third type of magic that is governed by the Presence stat?" After the dust settled following what must have been a pretty epic brawl between Coleman Charlton and Terry Amthor, Amthor was tasked with coming up with a realm of magic tied to the third stat pair. He came back with Mentalism, which is kind of like D&D psionics, but also not really.

So okay, Rolemaster has three different realms of magic, and not only are the mechanics of how their users gain their spells explained differently and their spell lists unique, they also come with unique sets of restrictions. The flow of Essence is disturbed by dead matter, including metal and leather. That is why Essence users need to go unarmored, wearing heavy robes at most. Channeling, being the magic of life, can't flow properly through metal, so Channeling users need to eschew metal armor (which became hilarious once they introduced the Paladin profession and needed to come up with a way for the knights in shining armor to still be able to cast Channeling spells). Mentalism, being mind magic, flows from the brain, so Mentalism users can't cover their heads.

There are some other interesting specifics: in the versions of the game where they've gone even deeper into distinguishing the three realms of magic by the actual gameplay mechanics Essence users have benefited the most from flamboyant gestures, 'cause the best way to throw fireballs is to do cool firebending motions; Channeling users have benefited from SHOUTING while casting their spells, because I guess the gods can hear you better that way; and Mentalism users have been unique in that their spells require no movements or words, just thoughts.

It's wild! And this is only scratching the surface of it, because there's also stuff like the very specific demon types in Rolemaster, evil spell lists being their own thing, hybrid spell users who combine two realms of magic, and Arcane magic which is like ancient proto-magic from which all the other three types of magic come from.

[average-ravnican]

I know I have talked shit about the guilds, I should probably give some of my gripes, with them, huh?

Gruul: they just tear shit down, and cause chaos, which is fun for a few days, but they never stop. Also, if you’ve ever been in a mosh pit with one, they will intentionally throw elbows and hands trying to start a brawl.

Golgari: I don’t like bugs. I have a phobia, and unfortunately it makes the entire guild suck. Also, if you buy anything off them, it’s definitely laced with something. 100% of the time.

Boros: part of the issue is the whole persecution of the Guildless, part of it is the fact they’re a guild full of cops, and part of it is the fact they have literal angels in the guild so they feel justified in their shitty takes.

Azorius: what I said about Boros being cops? Yeah, that except the cops are also legislators, actively voting for the police to be more powerful. Also, they FINED ME FOR EATING

Orhzov: Ghost capitalists. I don’t think I need to say much more, other than that for some reason we literally allow them to enslave ghosts and we’re cool with that??? If anyone enslaved a living person, we’d be pissed, but if they’re dead it’s cool?

Rakdos: other than the murder, I guess they’re fine. But it’s like hanging out with your friends from school who got really into music and drugs and never got a personality.

Izzet: other than being a dragon’s cult of personality, and having a literal murderer as their current leader (am I the only one who remembers when Ral killed the Izzet champion of the maze? So he could go instead? He did that in front of a crowd.) and the fact that a disproportionate amount of goblins have “research” accidents on their watch, its being surrounded by gifted kids who need to be the smartest in the room.

Dimir: for self preservation reasons I will not say anything about house dimir.

Simic: similar problem to Izzet, but they also just want to stick tentacles or crab claws on everything. I had a friend who transitioned with the combine, and she’s happy, but she also does glow in the dark.

Selesnya: I won’t get into the personal reason I dislike them, y’all aren’t ready for that story, but it’s almost a joke. “We prefer unity and harmony and peace and will FUCKING MURDER ANYONE WHO GETS IN THE WAY OF IT” (looking at you Trostani)

Not all of these organizations are bad, I just don’t understand why our government is run by all of them.

[cactusnymph]

for the touches ask game, how about "3. hugging while twirling around"? for anyone!

Fuck, she's on fire.

Not literally this time, but emotionally. She can touch people again. She can go around and shove people and clap her hand on their backs and kiss and hug and fuck and punch people in the face in a friendly bar brawl without making their face look like a medium raw beef steak.

Fuck. Yes.

She feels the intense need to kiss Dammon square on the mouth but she hugs him instead and hoists him up and holds him way longer than might be appropriate but he chuckles and hugs her back and it's the fucking best feeling in the world.

Gods, it's so good to be alive.

"This is the best day. This is. The best. Day!", she exclaims, over and over again and beams. She can pick flowers. She could scritch a dog behind its ears right now! Holy shit!

The possibilities are endless and Karlach feels happiness bubble inside her like thick lava, ready to burst out of the ground. She's a literal volcano of happiness. Fuck yeah.

Karlach hugs everyone. She hugs Gale and Tav and Shadowheart, then she hugs Dammon again, then she rolls around in some grass just for good measure. It doesn't leave a burning trail of ash and embers behind and Karlach is so fucking stoked she almost starts crying.

"Oh my gods, I need to find someone to spoon tonight. I'd spoon the fucking Elderbrain to be totally honest with you. I am so ready to cuddle. Holy shit!"

"Please don't spoon the Elderbrain", Gale says weakly and Tav laughs so hard that they choke on their own spit and Shadowheart has to use a spell to make them stop heaving. Karlach loves them all so much. She loves her friends and the whole world and Dammon and this grass tickling her skin and the feeling of the wind in her face.

It wouldn't even matter if she died tomorrow because she's so fucking happy to be in this very moment. It would all have been worth it just for this.

Karlach whistles and sings the entire time they walk back to camp, from time to time grabbing Tav's or Shadowheart's hands to hold and swing between them like a happy child.

First thing she'll do back at camp is find Scratch and pat him for half an hour. At least that's what Karlach thinks until they arrive and the first thing she sees is Astarion and Wyll standing next to each other as Astarion works to fix a rip on Wyll's shirt.

The heart in her chest that's not really a heart roars with affection and she loves Scratch, she loves him so much, but she also loves these men and now she can touch them.

Fuck.

Karlach doesn't think twice, she barrels forward, jumping over the campfire with ease past Lae'zel who's reading a weird metal disc with a furrowed brow and then she's there, startling both of them.

"What in the—", Astarion starts and drops his needle but he can't finish his question because Karlach already picked them both up. Gods, they're both so skinny. She smushes them together and laughs and maybe she also cries a little as she turns around with both of them in her arms, their feet dangling off the ground.

Astarion protests and struggles against her grip like a grumpy cat while Wyll laughs with her.

"It worked!", he exclaims, his voice as excited as Karlach feels.

"It worked", she cries and hugs them tighter, turning two more times before setting them back down and taking a step back. Gods, it's hard to let them go. Fuck she wants to hug them again immediately.

"Well", Astarion says and pretends to dust off his shirt, his face purposefully nonchalant but his cheeks all flushed, "I see your little outing was successful, darling."

"Fuck yes it was. I will spoon you so hard tonight", she says and pumps her fist in the air. Astarion blinks while Wyll chuckles.

"Spoon?", he echoes. Karlach grins so hard that her cheeks hurt.

"Yeah. Spooning. Cuddling. Holding tenderly. Whatever you wanna call it", she says and nods before twirling around by herself again. "I can hug people again!"

"Ugh. Fine, I guess", Astarion says, doing his best to sound as if he's doing Karlach a huge favor. Wyll shakes his head but he's still smiling.

"That means you won't get cold tonight, my pointy-eared friend", Wyll says. Astarion narrows his eyes at Wyll.

"I am dead. I don't get cold", he proclaims and stalks off, leaving Wyll's shirt unfinished. Karlach beams at him as Wyll hugs her again.

"I am so happy for you", he whispers and she holds him tight.

"Me too, Wyll. Me too."

feel free to send me more of these <3

[riotlain]

Can I have a Tim Drake x Autistic Male reader?

Like stimming Jazz hands, only using one cup for each drink (example: tall clear tequila Rose glass for Dr. Pepper, a mug that says 'Im a fucking Ray of sunshine' with sunflowers for coffee and tea.). Having crow love language, like finding a pretty rock and just giving it him. Type shit. The I refuse to wash my favorite fluffy blanket because it might change it's texture, autism. GIVE ME THE BAD HABITS!

Just Autistic, Autistic.

Bonus points: Reader confuses the shit out of Batman, because he can mask very well during Combat. But while explaining evidence he found, Reader rambles like he was in Arkham for 2 years. (If your confused on that last part, look up clips of 'Abby telling Gibbs what she found NCIS' on YouTube to get an idea.)

Thank you in advance,

-- Ever Autistic person tried of the ' UWU I'm shy and cute' autistic reader.

ok evil autism time.

cracks my knuckles. time to unleash this

THIS IS A NWLNW BLOG!! WOMEN DNI

Listen. Tim's alright with you stimming. UNLESS ITS WHEN YOURE VOCALLING STIMMING WHILE HE WORKS OR IS TRYING TO SLEEP (for once)

ESPECIALLY IF YOUR VOCAL STIM IS LITERALLY JUST SCREAMING

He got you a tablet for when you need to communicate when youre nonverbal and now all he hears is "Shark attack in the aquarium" or some shit

He doesnt question you drinking out of certain cups. It isnt his mug youre drinking from so he doesnt care

You almost killed Dick tho bc he used the cup but anyways🙄🙄

Has all your rocks in a box on his desk. Appreciates them very much

Was a bit confused the first time though

"Here." *Hands Tim a pink rock* "I- Uh thanks??" "😊"

Has your stuff washed when you arent around. Last time he tried to do it infront of you yall literally brawled (You won bc of autistic rage)

Youre the only person who can clean your own room. Not even Alfred can. YOU KNOW WHEN HE DOES YOU CAN SENSE IT

He loves listening to your interests (gets mildly concerned when you say youre gonna blow a character up in an affectionate way)

Youve probably said the same to him but anyways

Ngl you probably knew he was Robin before he told you

"Are you ok??" *Glares* "I know who you are!"

Its his voice, hair, overall vibes (that people just dont pick up on i guess)

Youre a great hero if you are one. You are masking tho so the minute you arent heroing anymore you become the worst thing alive (joke)

"Tim... The suit feels like crumbs again. Im gonna claw my skin away" "No need for that?!?"

And you help him and Batman with detective work yahoo🎉🎉

"He should be here, Batman" "How you do know that?" "Common sense???"

[mxlfoydraco]

hey so i have been diving back into the maruaders fandom and i love ur blog for that btw but im also reading A Lot of Fic and like. I have a pet peeve now and idk who else to complain to abt lmao. but basically its abt the Prank™️ and i kno everyone takes it as a big character moment for Sirius and i /get it/ esp since we have so little from canon for that era. But one thing that never comes up is how stupid it is for snape to FALL FOR IT????

literally like. your worst enemy who has actively fistfought u is like “oh u wanna see a WEREWOLF? Whose my BEST FRIEND? here you go :)” and not only does snape DO IT he does it ON THE NIGHT OF A FULL MOON??????? every single time i read a version of it im like, this castle is full of morons but GOD does snape take the cake. And i kno its still on sirius for telling him(tho the details are still v v sparse so…) but i just. i just cannot get over how bull headed and shortsighted and stupid snape is as well. And him holding a grudge over it in canon for DECADES as well just makes it worse for me like YOU got urself into this remus did literally nothing to u…… idk i just cant let go of this and had to tell someone 😭 hashtag snape played the prank™️ on himself i guess

Thanks for listening to my rant sirius is still the number 1 best dogfather 💞

AND he suspected that Remus was a werewolf, he was trying to prove it like… you’re canonically a smart student! you can build the “werewolf + full moon = bad” equation! and you’re taking your queue from SIRIUS, whomst i love but like… be for fucking real

i mean GOOD bc him acting a fool saved remus’ ass but. you do not get to hold a grudge and still try to ruin his life 20 years later

and JAMES saves your ass. embarassing! good!

like go brawl with sirius over it, he will happily do it, leave remus alone he is only but a wet noodle

[averys-happy-space]

putting this here more for myself than anything. i wanna be able to look back at it in a year and see how its changed. explanations for each section under the cut

ship i loved at first sight: tara x piper. i don't know what the ship name is. taper? pira? pira seems nicer lol. anyway, tara used to be my favourite brawler (and is still up there in my top 5) and i think the first time i saw tara x piper fanart was on reddit. it was by Xpyray and i swear to god ive never fallen in love with a ship faster. their art is so fucking good and they dont rlly draw brawl stuff anymore but i still follow them cuz their art is so so so pretty (please go follow them if youre reading this). anyway so yeah thats how tara x piper became my fav ship.

ships i initially didn't like: rico x piper, shelly x colt imma be fr at the start i didn't really Get these ships. but after watching some of the official animations and learning more of the lore, i started to appreciate these ships more. i don't love them or anything but they can be cute

ships i don't like anymore: sandy x nita, leon x jessie, sandy x leon there is no real reason for this other than the fact that i simply stopped liking them as i grew up. as i was making this i realised that when i was younger i used to like the ships with the kids/teens more, but now i'm 17 and i'm just not interested in them anymore. i guess thats what happens when you grow up lol. these ships are still cute, but i just don't engage with them anymore

favourite popular ships: mandy x chester, fang x buster so a bit of background, i actually quit brawl stars for a while, i think after the gale brawl pass. i dont really remember why, but its probably because i just got bored of the game lol. i think that also played into why i'm no longer interested in the same ships as before. anyway, i came back this year during the bizarre circus brawl pass and accidentally fell in love with these two ships. honestly, i'm not even entirely sure why i fell in love with these two ships in particular. chester definitely caught my eye when i came back to the game because a) i love clowns b) i love a good troll c) i love the random XD energy chester has and d) he has super interesting & fun game mechanics. i have no interest in mandy really but then i saw One suggestive mandy x chester fanart that went hard af and suddenly i was on board lmao. on the other hand fang and buster were two characters that i took some time to fall in love with, but now they're my favourites lol it's so strange. i really don't know how it happened.

favourite rarepair: amber x maisie i was looking at a diagram of all the trios so far because i was brainstorming ideas for who to include in a fanfic and as i was looking at it, suddenly it Clicked in my mind that amber x maisie would go hard af. like think about it. overconfident fire entertainer who gets so swept up in performances that she forgets about safety x safety coordinator with a fire extinguisher for an arm who secretly likes being in dangerous situations? come on!!!! im surprised more people havent thought of this pairing cuz as soon as it clicked for me it seemed like such an obvious pairing to do. but then again they've never interacted in any animation/promo material/etc so i guess it's not a pair people would just think of without prompting. but it's so fucking good!!!! more people need to get in on this ship.

controversial ship: none here's the thing. i don't know any controversial ships that i can see myself shipping. the most controversial one i know is probably edgar x colette but i see them as siblings so i don't ship it nor do i engage with fanart of them. edgar and colette ships in general are probably controversial seeing as both of them don't have canon ages and it's vague enough that people are always talking about whether they're adults or minors. but i personally see both of them as older teens so i don't ship them with anyone. (to me, they're too old to hang out with the kid brawlers but also too young to hang out with the adult brawlers. it's weird because there's no other brawlers where i see them as teens, so in my mind edgar and colette both have 0 shipping potential)

ships i want to become canon the most: amber x maisie, fang x buster they're my current favourite ships. what else to say.

comfort ship: fang x buster i think about them All the Fucking Time. lowkey i started to project on fang a bit just cuz i like him so much. i don't even know why or how i started liking him this much but he's my favourite brawler now and it's horrible. i think the seal in the coffin was @/giveittomegay's fanart of them. THEY'RE SO FUCKING CUTE. like omfg. confident, charismatic chinese immigrant who just arrived at starr park x introverted insecure white guy who doesn't know how to approach others. slowburn where they become closer through working at the cinema and buster realises he's fallen in love basically immediately but fang hasn't realised his own sexuality (has had crushes on girls before so always assumed he was straight) and doesn't realise he's in love with buster until maisie straight up tells him. fang's confidence means he jokingly flirts with buster all the time because he thinks it's funny to tease the guy and make him flustered but doesn't realise buster gets flustered because he likes fang. fang is fucking stupid. also, i think using fang x shelly here as a conflict plot point would be so good. like, fang seeing a pretty girl and approaching her, flirting with her, etc. i like to think fang is dense as fuck and would genuinely believe he's in love with shelly despite buster occupying 90% of his thoughts because his thought process would be something along the lines of "oh, i just think about him a lot cuz he's my best friend, i'm sure this is all regular, normal bff things". and buster just fucking dying inside but not saying anything because he thinks it's none of his business and he shouldn't interfere in fang's love life. MAISIE WATCHING ALL THIS HAPPEN AND WANTING TO MURDER BOTH OF THEM FOR BEING SO DENSE. like ohhhhhh my god there is so much potential here it's fucking insane. side note: fang doesn't have anything against gay people. i like to think maisie x amber comes way before fang x buster, so fang knows gay people exist and like he is perfectly fine and comfortable being around them, he's just so stupidly dense that he doesn't realise HE is gay (or more specifically bi). he also assumes buster is straight because default sexuality and whenever fang makes jokes based on this assumption buster never corrects him. because buster is a pussy. god. i want to write this fanfic so bad but i'm so fucking bad at writing dialogue it's insane.

ships that deserve more attention: amber x maisie, brock x bibi, barley x bull, max x janet LET ME COOK HERE OKAY. amber x maisie i already explained above. brock x bibi (i call them bibrock) is because it's noted in bibi's bio that she's secretly a huge nerd and i think it would be super cute for her to have a bf who she can indulge in nerdy and geeky shit with. to me they're both massive comic book fans who become close by playing all the superhero video games together before branching out to other games. they're console gamers btw and they get SUPER competitive whenever they're playing against each other. but they also do play coop games where they work together. usually brock is the one who does a lot of theorycrafting and tries to minmax his grind so he can get all the resources in the most optimal and time efficient way possible, whereas bibi prefers just going into fights and wrecking havoc lol. barley x bull is because they're both restaurant owners/servers (barley has his bar, bull has his diner) and i think they would bond over shitty customers and interesting food/drink recipes. they're both also familiar with having fights break out in their establishment and are fully capable of shutting fights down, even if it means getting their hands dirty. they think they're on opposite ends of the spectrum but they're actually more similar than they realise. for sure a very slowburn romance (especially because i think bull would be denial about liking a fucking robot lmfao) max x janet is because they're both celebrity entertainers. yeah, that's it. no but seriously i see max as someone who puts up an outgoing persona in public and is generally a very hyper, high energy person but at the same time, she tends to keep people at a distance because she's scared of intimacy. before janet, her closest friends are surge and meg. surge kind of Knows something is up with her because every time he tried to ask about her past she clammed up and gave noncommittal responses. he worries about her but doesn't know what to do about it so he just tries to make her happy in the present. meg is a kid so she doesn't realise anything is wrong lol. hanging out with meg and surge makes max happy and she considers them family, but she still has a wall up around her true self. janet is the one who is finally able to help max come out of her shell and address her past trauma. it also helps that max thinks janet is very pretty and desperately wants to kiss her. this is canon btw don't question me.

first otp: tara x piper | current otp: fang x buster i basically said all i have to say about these ships so yeah. that's it.

[imaginesforeveryone]

“By order of the Peaky Blinders!” 

Arthur Shelby x reader / Y/N  warnings: blood, violence, gore, some sexual content Description: normally the Shelby boys wouldn’t bring their significant others to risky business, but you were a different story for Arthur Shelby. 

Arthur, Tommy, John and you. Y/N Shelby. You have been by the Shelby families side since you could remember. Growing up with Polly as your mother figure, when your mother left you on her door step as a new born due to her being a whore, didn’t know who your father was because she screwed every man that looked her way. But that’s for a different time. You have always been by the Shelby boys since Tommy was born and the rest came after that making the family bigger and of course crazier. Fast forward to now, you and Arthur grew fond of each other through the years. You growing up with all boys, Shelby boys at that, turned you into a very very tough women, which caught Arthurs attention. When you turned 18 Arthur knew you were the one being only two years older then you, he saw no reason why he shouldn’t get down on one knee and ask your hand in marriage. Back then, the Shelby boys were as rich as they were now. So your wedding was like every other gypsy wedding. Dancing around the fire, drinking till you laid in the dirt below your feet. Since then you did everything together. Business and more. It was Tommy’s idea to go to London, and go the Sabinis club. Walking into the club, everyone danced, kissed, even fucked right there in the hallway, which didn’t sound bad to me. You looked at Arthur and raised an eyebrow. 

“You like that don’t you? You nasty nasty girl.” He said with a smirk. Getting to the main area where so many people were dancing, music was blaring. Recognizing some guys who sat around. Other Gangster from different families. Arthur, John, Tommy and you walked out to table where there was only two people sitting there, a man and a women, who the woman was tugging on the mans dick. 

“MOVE!!!” John yelled in the couples faces and smirked grabbing the bottle of open Champagne sitting on the table and chugging it. You all sat down, you sitting on Arthurs lap.

“This is fucking crazy! I love it.” John said laughing and couldn’t stay still in his chair. Tommy smirking over at him and running a cigarette between his lips before lighting it and taking a big breathe from it. 

“CAN I GET A FUCKING BOTTLE YOU TWAT!” You yelled at the server walking back. 

“Damn baby. Relax we just got ‘ere.” Arthur said kissing your shoulder. 

“Does it look like I care. Need some proper service in here, don’t they?” You said taking an inhale of your cigarette. The server rushing back with the bottle. 

“Now that’s proper fucking service!” You yelled over the music snd grabbing the bottle, opening it and chugging it down. You looked around watching every angle of this place, knowing that there were many enemies in this room. Seeing what looked like the manager of this place walking towards you guys. You looked over at Tommy and directing your eyes to the manager. Tommy just bowed his head telling you Its fine. 

“Hello gentleman and lady. Sorry to interrupt you, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Many of our clientele, does not want you, also Mr. Sabini.” You looked over at Tommy, and John trying to gauge their reaction to prepare for what to do. 

“But we just got our bottle. We aren’t causing any troubles. Just on holiday, enjoying London!” Tommy said holding up the bottle swigging it. 

“I know you aren’t, but people are not comfortable with you here.” He said kindly with a smile. 

“Well then, I guess we will really have to give them a reason not to be comfortable huh?” Arthur said looking at him. You grinned at John grabbing the bottle and hitting it over the managers head, starting an all out brawl, grabbing your knife out of your boot. Seeing a big man coming at you, swiftly slashing him in his face, and blood gushing out. Looking over at Arthur, seeing he’s taking on 3 guys, running over to him grabbing one of the guys turning him around and slashing him across his face. Arthur holding one of the other ones so you could do work. Running towards him and taking your knife up to the mans throat and blood pulsating out of the open gash in his neck, some getting on you as it would. All of a sudden you hear a loud shotgun go off making everyone duck down. 

It was the manager standing on the table with the shot gun in the air. 

“Get out.” He said looking at you guys. The whole place going silent. 

“Yeah. you going to use that.” Tommy said walking closer to the man pointing the gun right at him, and the man looking around not making eye contact with Tommy. 

“Didn’t think so.” Said Tommy. Turning around he grabbed the bottle off the table. John walked ahead of him looking around, Tommy and you walking behind him together. You fixed your hair and wiped the sweat and some blood from your brow. 

“ We didn’t come here to make enemies.” Tommy said in a sarcastic tone as he walked a little. 

“No….” Tommy said with a sigh. Looking over at John as he grabbed a random women and started kissing her. You looked over at Arthur and let out a small laugh. 

“We came here to make friends!” Tommy said turning in a cirlce showing he was talking to everyone around. Arthur kicked one of the men that laid on the ground as you did the same to one of the men that you fucked up. 

“Those of you who are last, will soon become first.” Tommy said with bit of drunken babble. Taking a drag off your cigarette, and blowing the smoke in one of the mens faces and winking. Causing him to give a dirty look as you laughed at him 

“And those of you who are downtrodden, will rise up.” Tommy said stopping in the middle of the room and looking around. 

“Yup.”

“You know where to find us.” He said before walking out of the room. You walked behind him and a women getting in your way, you simple move her out of your way, throwing a cigarette at the man standing next to him. You linked arms with Arthur as you walked out.

“I think I’ve lost tooth! Ill have none at this rate!” Arthur yelled out in the street. You laughed at him a little. 

“Still sexy as ever.” You said looking over at him and he grabbed you in his arms tilted you back and kissed you hard. The fight put some adrenaline in his body as it always does. Let me tell you, the sex is always the best after a good fight. You laughed through the kiss. 

“And you ! Oh my god! you were so hot fighting there. I CANT WAIT TO GET YOU HOME! THIS IS MY FUCKING WIFE! TOUCH HER AND I WILL HAVE YOUR EYESS!!” Arthur screamed through the streets. 

“AND WE ARE THE PEAKY FOOKING BLINDERS!!!!!” You screamed.

[laurensinclairsfleabagera]

a consecutive list of shit that’s happened in my sims 4 ineffable wives save, in order. oh boy

sim day one, they’re roomies who don’t know eachother i meant it when i said slowburn (thanks to lumpinou’s lgbtq+ mod they’re both demisexual and demiromantic)

sim day two, they’re besties! try taking a guess if i used cheats or participated in the grind. (i love you mc command center mod)

still sim day two for these two, they’re flirting!

uh oh mission get the lesbians together paused, because antonia j crowley GOT FUCKED OVER BY THE LIFES TRAGEDIES MOD AND WAS ACTIVELY FUCKING DYING FROM A TERMINAL ILLNESS. like the dramatic bitch she is, attempted to promptly die in aziraphales arms but my game glitched.

two failed surgeries and a severe anxiety diagnosis later, i cheat take away the fatal illness and disable tragedies for antonia AND aziraphale! (i forgot to mention it but while crowley was out here getting surgeries, she nearly got targeted by a serial killer. at this point i nearly fucking deleted life’s tragedies)

they both get some sleep after all the trauma it is now sim day 3. while aziraphale goes to her culinary career, i let antonia celebrate with two hookups from the simda dating app and she gets promptly railed by akira kibo and johnny zest.

aziraphale always has a tense moodlet from being introverted and particularly wasn’t feeling it when akira fucking kibo would not leave so i use the extreme violence mod to murder his ass while antonia naps.

now that its just them, we finally catch up on getting the ineffable idiots together :)) they flirt more, hug and eventually woohoo on the coffee table and go to sleep. they’re also officially dating

my sims wake up at the ass crack of dawn, it is day 4 in sims time and i notice an uncomfortable moodlet off of crowley so i check. IT IS PREGNANCY CRAVINGS???? yeah crowleys pulled a donna sheridan by getting knocked up and not knowing who the father is.

she tells azi, who gets a fine moodlet from the baby not being hers. i notice this, have them be flirty in the kitchen and BAM is that a proposal literally TWELVE MINUTES BEFORE AZI GOES TO WORK?? you’d be correct ding ding.

i make some adjustments to the house because crowley now has a crotch groblin inside her. the wives share a room, and crowleys old room becomes a yellow nursery for baby girl!

not very eventful until literally 10pm, when thanks to LIFES TRAGEDIES MOD we get an armed robber come in while crowley is napping 💀 so i use mc command center, think the robber will die if i kill her and turn her into a ghost because there’s been a few failed murder attempts and brawls atp but SHES STILL ROBBING OUR HOUSE. AS A FUCKING GHOST.!?!(!,

at this point only the lord can save these bastards so i leave without saving so the heist never happened.

redo of day 4, morning still the same but they instead adopt a hairless cat named maya and immediately become the worlds best cat mums :)) we might have had to delete the adopter to be able to officially keep her but it’s fine!

that’s all that’s eventful for now, so i have to ask:

[narwhalandchill]

i have to say of all the things people were speculating before 4.2 the fontaine AQ "theory" (if you could even call it that) im the most glad just. aged like complete milk and died silently in a ditch as it should was the way people were just. genuinely thinking the shadow dude in the narwhals stomach was childe 💀 and not even in the "ohhh what if" but actually soo convinced i just????

like hello what the fuck. i cannot believe that was a real thing like it was so widespread bc everyone went all. well the narwhal has to be bad and evil with terrible designs in mind for some nefarious plot relating to ajax so it has to be corrupting him and using his body as a puppet. and then pointing at the absolute most superficial "similarities" between the shadow and foul legacy when literally none of the actual core design aspects of FL were present at all whatsoever 😭 the shadow shares more in common with the fucking husks or even like. those hsr antimatter legion bitches what are you guys talking about. arguing oh the reason it looks nothing like childe or FL is bc hes already been gigasigma corrupted for a billion years in abyss time like WHAT

it got so bad i started fucking. double guessing my own (factually correct. as always. its like dawei wants to feed my ego) assessment of. yeah no fucking way thats ajax. theres some similarities in certain combat moves and some armor traits but like. he didnt invent his fighting style with FL he was literally taught it 💀 and 4.0 already told us skirk taking him in as a disciple had Something to do with his encounter with the narwhal. not at all unusual there would be some parallel (and i do find it plausible that the shadow v much has to do with surtalogi).

the other side of it was also like. yes sure im less reliable on that argument front leading up to 4.2 bc im way too narwhalpilled and obsessed with destined bonds between a mortal and an eldritch cosmic being in general so i was always hoping for it to like him in that based gourmet incomprehensible alien way. BUT. the way ppl fucking trashed my beloved acting all oh the narwhal calling for ajax must involve wanting to do something terrible to the uhhhhhh (checks notes) kid that.... freed it? woke it up? after an indeterminate time spent in some sort of stasis and imprisonment??? especially when its a creature meant to be freely traversing the cosmos?? Huh? 😭 tf would the narwhal have against him im crying. stop assuming the worst of this lovely friend shaped cetacean that is literally so rude.

(And like. i mean this with the utmost respect to his clear power boost regarding mastery over FL and am by no means trying to flatten or dismiss his development but also. 45+ days brawling. when the narwhal was already more or less fully primordial sea juice boosted. and when it went DIRECTLY for the kill against all those shrimp civilians in the cutscene. ajax. ajax. ajax. you did a great job but no way in fucking hell am i believing the narwhal was at any point trying to kill you fr im sorry 💀💀💀 you got the VIP treatment bc it likes you and i am Not believing otherwise unless dawei himself smites me and rebukes this directly. edit: and like he fell back in passed out & near death. well why the fuck wouldnt it finish the job right there and then???? checkmate atheists)

ultimately it just made no sense and while theories are fair game for everyone and all i just really hated this one its literally so petty but i cant help it im so glad it was instakilled on spot by the 4.2 trailer SKSKSKDKSKSDSJK i saw my man true and real in all his foul legacy drip and i knew i won.

also when the narwhal attack animations leaked and people were all oh my god its destroying childes constellation this is super bad and evil and i just. you mean the constellations that serve as the direct physical manifestations of celestias hold over destiny and fate. those. you mean the guy whose boss archive entry builds him up as the one who will "overturn this world" having his constellation busted through by a 874679 gigaton star-devouring whale pal could like. in no way shape or form be perhaps a visual metaphor for some. other development. after multiple lore drops and talks of wills capable of rivaling the world and not being chained by celestias ever present gaze. dont you maybe think the visuals of a constellation falling from the sky could also imply a different kind of thing. icant 😭 same for his vision malfunctioning if the narwhals behind that one too. like you mean the device we used to literally spy on his memories and that are all but confirmed to be not quite the quirky divine gift all perks no fine print you might assume. that thing. surely the vision malfunctioning is awful for ajax. (this take was sponsored by sustainer!!!)

it was literally just all these weird assumptions that abyss bad so narwhal from abyss (that aged well lmao) also bad ajax is a helpless baby fish being lured by the seductive calls of his narwhal to the dark side. and so on

and then turns out hes the one attacking the narwhal on sight 💀💀 if only we couldve foreseen his desire to fight the being he encountered during his time in the abyss once they meet again from something like idk his own voicelines that have been there since 1.1..... but alas 😔

[fryingpan1234567]

OKAY I SAW A POST ABOUT THIS AND I THOUGHT IT WAS VERY INCORRECT SO HERE WE GO I’M FIXING IT

RIORDANVERSE IN HOGWARTS HOUSES

Gryffindor: Hazel Levesque, Piper McLean, Thalia Grace, Clarisse La Rue, Reyna Ramirez-Arellano, Thomas Jefferson Jr., Halfborn Gunderson, Mallory Keen

Gryffindor’s main traits are bravery (obviously), being headstrong, poor impulse control, team players. Hazel? She prevented the apocalypse by killing a giant, her mother, and herself, single-handedly putting Gaea to sleep again. Piper is the girl who told The Daughter Of Athena to ignore her brain and just feel. Thalia was literally immortalized for her bravery on Half-Blood Hill. Clarisse fought the drakon in the Battle of Manhattan and kicked its ass by herself. Reyna’s mother is the goddess of strength and bravery, and she has the ability to share that through her troops. TJ physically cannot say no to a challenge. Halfborn wins brawls with two axes and no shirt. Mallory armed and blew up a fucking car bomb because some stranger pushed her to. This group is the definition of YOLO… I guess except for TJ, Halfborn, and Mallory. They’re more like ‘YOLI’- you only live infinitely.

Hufflepuff: Nico di Angelo, Will Solace, Frank Zhang, Magnus Chase

Puff People traits- kindness and patience, balance and mediation. But they also take those who don’t fit into any other house. That’s my main reason for Nico; it’s like his whole character. Will and Magnus are both healers exasperated by their friends and chaotic partners almost dying all the time. Frank is a shapeshifter with crazy diverse lineage, meaning he doesn’t quite fit anywhere as well. This group is needed to be the mediums of their groups.

Ravenclaw: Annabeth Chase, Rachel Elizabeth Dare, Samirah Al-Abbas

Before you come at me for stereotyping Annabeth as an Athena kid = Ravenclaw, Ravenclaws are witty, quick thinkers, and as logical as possible. That’s literally her. This is the girl who came up with, on the spot with a broken leg, to trap Arachne with her own webs. Rachel is The Prophet of the Greeks, and she acts the part. Sam has the best work/school/religion/life balance I’ve ever seen in my life, and she’s nailing all of it. These girls are the brains of every operation and you can’t convince me otherwise.

Slytherin: Percy Jackson, Jason Grace, Calypso, Leo Valdez, Alex Fierro

MY PEOPLE- Us Slytherins are cunning and ambitious, duh, but also loyal to a fault and would kill for our family, blood or not. Percy is easily a Slytherin- loyalty is literally his fatal flaw. Jason is interesting, but I wanted to put him here because his actual life goal is getting his orange and purple friends to get along. Calypso would have been a major factor in Percy and Annabeth’s deaths in Tartarus because of that curse she threw at him; that girl holds a grudge. Leo Valdez is the most stubborn egotistical asshole we all love to see, and his sarcasm is one of the best things about him (Percy too). Alex… I really shouldn’t have to explain. They’re like the most Slytherin Slytherin ever.

anyways!! Percy Jackson!! is not a Gryffindor!! HIS FATAL FLAW IN CANON IS LOYALTY. THAT IS A DEFINING TRAIT OF SLYTHERINS.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[siremasterlawrence]

Nightwing: Midnight Eclipse

Poor Nightwing is on mission to deaths door

in the heat of the night he backflips on to the rooftop of a abandoned building in the Great island of Manhattan.

He rolls over the roof sliding til the edge of the building scooping up his binoculars from his belt.

He opens a batch placing it over his eyes he quickly scans the scene allowing him a huge outline like a blue print.

His cellphone blows up with the intelligence scan showing every inch of the floor plans for him.

It showcases like a scaffolding view keeping him totally aware of everything in the area of the massive compound.

Dick revs fixing his mask a second time that night this is biggest score yet and he can die possibly.

“Let’s see! There are eighteen floors each floor has two guards by the elevator, two more by the door, and four in the last room.”

“I have no time to deal with these small time goons, hoods and crooks except to end this right now.”

“The roof top is the perfect opening I back flip directly into the air a quick somersault to crash the glass ceiling.”

“Boom! Hell yeah!”

“Too easy”

“I need to work on my descent and landing”

“Oh well!”

“Next time”

“Hello! How about I show you how to dance?”

“Get him!”

“Too bad”

“Let’s boogie”

Nightwing smirks removing his e-stim sticks ready to go he launches a barrage of heavy attacks.

One to right, left, right, and left again guys go down so easily no questions ask except for his defeat.

He flips into the air using his feet forcing them together hitting him hard he falls face forward.

He lands promptly pressing the down button on the elevator he waits for it and enters in to it.

The elevator descends down the shaft as the cart is racing to the basement level it stops.

The door rolls open he flips his estims into the air catching them in a fighting stand and preps for a brawl.

One man is in the room clapping with a loud praise of applause as the sound bounces of the wall.

Acoustic sound hitting Dick’s ears in a super excruciating pain he fell to his knees holding his ears.

The pressure causing him to lose his mind in full consciousness fainting to the floor the man fades out of existence.

“Wait! Where am I?”

“Who am I?”

“Who the fuck?”

“Sssssshhhhhssssshhhh”

“This is my body now, I have take absolute possession of it.”

“NO! You can’t have it…it’s mine”

“God! I have wanted you for so long”

“I own this body forever no need to fight it.”

“Exactly! Correct choice”

“OH MY GOD!”

“I guess my body is yours”

“Yyyyyeeessssss….ooooohhhhh….ggggooodddd”

“You’re silenced for good.”

The end

Superman: Edge Of Tomorrow

The next morning I awoke in a new bed my eyes took time to adjust rolling off the bed on to floor.

Slipping into his slippers he struts in to the room next door holding my body up to its full size.

He stood tall in front of the mirror flexing off of my body I can’t believe it taking it off his mask

.

I check out my new body taking a spin to see my new body in its glory I look stunning.

I can’t believe I have Nightwing’s body for the first time under my possession I stretch my body.

The smile is wide I can’t believe he is so fine that is until Clark Kent Nightwings idol flew by the window.

“Sorry I am late, you called me last night about a case.”

“You wanted my help?”

“Yeah! Please come in”

“Let me finish getting ready@

“Put on my mask”

“Woah! I feel so weak”

“Dick?”

“Why do you have kryptonite?”

“Why do you think?”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“You are a damn fool”

“I am not Nightwing”

“What did you do to him?”

“I took possession of him”

“He is my property”

“So are you !”

“Nnnnnooooo”

“You will accept it”

Clark stares up at me in dismay watching my every move from as I shutter the window close.

Turn down the lights the knelt down next to him cupping his chin to stare upward to face me.

I lean in kissing him at the same time as my kiss I am draining the estim’s sticks energy into my body.

Clark is so weak in his attempts to shove me away Clark is so weak holding me done once more.

He stares into my eyes giving me his full lust and attention to me his hands can’t help it though.

He wraps his arms over my waist holding me so tight he pulls me closer unknowingly surrendering to me.

“Oh Clark! Superman?”

“Stop please”

“Why should I?”

“Pathetic!”

“Please”

“Pussy boi”

“Much more fitting name”

“I love it”

“This is how you were meant to me”

“I say these words and I release their souls”

“Master Lawrence “

“Yes my love”

The end

Superman: Edge Of Tomorrow

The next morning I awoke in a new bed my eyes took time to adjust rolling off the bed on to floor.

Slipping into his slippers he struts in to the room next door holding my body up to its full size.

He stood tall in front of the mirror flexing off of my body I can’t believe it taking it off his mask

.

I check out my new body taking a spin to see my new body in its glory I look stunning.

I can’t believe I have Nightwing’s body for the first time under my possession I stretch my body.

The smile is wide I can’t believe he is so fine that is until Clark Kent Nightwings idol flew by the window.

“Sorry I am late, you called me last night about a case.”

“You wanted my help?”

“Yeah! Please come in”

“Let me finish getting ready”

“Put on my mask”

“Woah! I feel so weak”

“Dick?”

“Why do you have kryptonite?”

“Why do you think?”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“You are a damn fool”

“I am not Nightwing”

“What did you do to him?”

“I took possession of him”

“He is my property”

“So are you !”

“Nnnnnooooo”

“You will accept it”

Clark stares up at me in dismay watching my every move from as I shutter the window close.

Turn down the lights the knelt down next to him cupping his chin to stare upward to face me.

I lean in kissing him at the same time as my kiss I am draining the estim’s sticks energy into my body.

Clark is so weak in his attempts to shove me away Clark is so weak holding me done once more.

He stares into my eyes giving me his full lust and attention to me his hands can’t help it though.

He wraps his arms over my waist holding me so tight he pulls me closer unknowingly surrendering to me.

“Oh Clark! Superman?”

“Stop please”

“Why should I?”

“Pathetic!”

“Please”

“Pussy boi”

“Much more fitting name”

“I love it”

“This is how you were meant to me”

“I say these words and I release their souls”

“Master Lawrence “

“Yes my love”

The end