#there is no winning but also its all winning

[prokopetz]

"But doesn't having a notion of 'balanced' combat inherently imply that all combat encounters are expected to be fair and winnable" well, no – it implies only that the GM has the ability to know whether a given combat encounter is fair and winnable.

There's a story that's been going around for decades about a Dungeons & Dragons party who encountered a large room full of treasure while exploring a dungeon. Immediately suspicious, they asked their GM a series of detailed questions about the room, but no obvious dangers were identified. Satisfied, they moved into the room – and were immediately set upon and eaten by the dragon that had been sitting atop the pile of treasure the whole time, which the GM hadn't mentioned because the players never specifically asked about the presence of living creatures within the room.

While this is obviously an extreme and ridiculous case, it illustrates an important point: as GM, you're the group's eyes and ears. If you don't describe something, the player characters literally can't see it – that dragon was effectively invisible from their perspective. The trick is that active malice isn't the only way to invisible-dragon your players; a group can also find themselves invisible-dragoned because the GM simply failed to provide sufficient information for the risk in question to be identified. This can happen through neglect, but it can also happen because the GM themself was unaware that the risk was present.

Now, hold on, you might be saying: the GM "plays" the entire world. How is it possible for the GM not to know that a risk is present? Well, that brings us back around to the subject of combat balance.

A game in which "balanced" combat is a meaningful thing to discuss is typically going to be one in which both the players and the GM are actually making strategic, tactical, and/or logistical decisions, rather than merely producing a description of their characters making such decisions. Without a good handle on the interplay of these decisions, it's completely possible for the GM to be wrong about the level of risk the scenario they've constructed entails.

That's actually pretty critical, because even if you don't care about the game being fair and winnable (and that's a perfectly valid stance), your players are still depending on you to be their eyes and ears, and to give them enough information to make good decisions about whether the fight in front of them is one they can win. A game where not every fight is expected to be winnable needs to be a game where the players have the opportunity to walk away.

No matter how objective you try to be, your own sense of the answer to that question is inevitably going to colour how you communicate about it. You being wrong about the level of risk at hand inherently increases the chance that your players will make bad choices. The party eating a TPK because they made a stupid decision is one thing; the party eating a TPK because they made a decision that looked reasonable from their perspective based on your unwitting miscommunication of the level of risk involved is quite another!

Sure, once the dice hit the table I'm probably going to realise that I fucked up, and I can adjust things on the fly to bring the level of risk that's actually present in line with the level of risk I communicated – but that's extra work I don't need with everything else that's on my plate. And that's a best-case scenario; if I'm running the game for a hardcore let-the-dice-fall-where-they-may group (and such groups tend to have a pretty significant overlap with groups that are cool with not every fight being winnable), I may not be able to adjust the fight's parameters on the fly without violating the social contract of the table.

Basically, whenever I see an OSR game with tactically crunchy combat brag about how its author never even thinks about "balance", what that's telling me is that running this game is going to create a whole lot of extra work for me as a GM. This is not a selling point.

[creatingblackcharacters]

Finally got to see Kendrick's Superbowl performance! My feedback:

1. This is a Masterclass in "I'm not Black, how do I sing these songs" because they didn't let him say a single cuss word and not a singular n word😭 that was for y'all. I was cussing. Every word. So it's possible!

2. Oh the messages were unreal. I loved this performance. "It wasn't fun" this man just spoke the importance of Blackness to America, how I'm forced to play a game I was always meant to lose, and all its unserved promises to my community in exchange for said game while Herr Donald Trump was in the audience. Fuck your fun, there was something that needed to be SAID!

3. It was also incredibly fun! I am a huge fan of Peekaboo, so to hear him perform it was 😤😤😤🤌🏾🔥

4. They needed to turn up his mic. I feel like they did that outta fear. Unfortunate.

5. Camera work level KPop music video 😤

6. It's always wild to me how white America loves Samuel L Jackson despite his very pro Black history. Perfect choice for Uncle Sam indeed!

7. 😈🚶🏾‍♀️"Say Drake" 🚶🏾‍♀️😈

8. "Game Over" at the end was superior wordplay. Game over as in I'm not playing white America's games anymore, game over as in Drake's finished and I win. Iconic. 🤌🏾🔥

I might have to actually go see him live fr 👀

[alyimoss]

YES YES YES IVE NOTICED THIS BEFORE!!!! the reverse is also true: chara calls asgore dad, but toriel is just toriel. both have a parent theyre closest with

that does make me think tho like. frisk seems to me like he would either call both parents just by their name or call both mom and dad. not pick one and leave the other. hes shown to be more considerate of the residents of xtale in later timelines than chara, whos grown much more disillusioned, hateful, and violent. chara has way fewer problems treating people more poorly because in his mind the end justifies the means and as long as the goal hes working toward is noble (which. it at first is but later twists into something completely different. but i think he still considers it noble and the "best outcome for everyone" and thats ahat matters most to him) any horrible thing he does is completely fine. hes playing on the same battlefield as xgaster, after all, so he has to adopt his same tactics. frisk, though also shown to have grown more hateful and violent and disillusioned, shows a lot more hesitation in using and/or hurting the residents of xtale.

anyway, all that to say that he just doesnt rlly strike me as the type of guy to just exclude one parent, especially if it hurts/saddens them. like i could be completely wrong and hes just got a preference contrasting charas bc siblings, but. idk.

bc chara not calling toriel mom immediately makes me think of timeline III. the timeline right after the one where chara got the father figure he yearned for. it was the first timeline to use underswap as a base instead of the original timeline. in the episode, we see both frisk and chara sitting in toriels lap. frisk is chatting happily with her, but chara looks livid

i wonder if chara refuses to call toriel mom because she hasnt been the mother he knew for so, so long. she doesn't even know it. and swap toriel taking asgores role and some if not all of his personality (depending on the interpretation), it probably felt to chara like she was trying to replace asgore. a shoddy stand in, smiling at him almost in mockery as he has to mourn the death of his father alone because noone except for him, frisk, xgaster, and alphys even know he died. for all the other residents of xtale, that series of events never happened.

toriel asks him whats wrong and he has to fight the urge to snap at her, to yell at her that she knows. she knows and shes mocking him. that shell never be him. that she shouldnt have ever dared to do something like this so close to his death. and he only barely holds that all in because he knows shes not doing this on purpose. she doesnt know what happened. she didnt ask to be remade in someone else's image. she doesn't even know she has been

the whole situation fuels his hatred of xgaster more, because now more than ever he feels like hes being toyed with. first it was just the world. just seeing what changed. and then one of the most precious things to him was taken from him by the very man who promised him the world, a marionette facsimile dangling by strings from the claws chara couldve sworn he didnt always have.

and again, its not toriels fault. but it leaves such a strong impression on him that she forever changes in his eyes. shes no longer the loving mother. shes someone who doesnt belong, someone he doesnt recognize as his own. she changed from who she was when she WAS his mom, all the way back in timelines I and II, and the mother he loved is dead. gone. erased. irreplaceable. and no matter what xtoriel does, chara can never bring himself to call her mom again

and, on the contrary, he latches to asgore hard. because hes also changed, hes not exactly as he remembers him, but hes back. hes alive. hes still asgore and hes still his father and he missed him so much. he doesnt care about the smaller details, nothing matters except the fact that his father is back. that the man who gave him hope and support and company when he felt so crushingly lonely under the weight of losing his world is back, and that means chara isnt alone anymore. hes not hopeless. and he holds to that tiny hope as tight as he can

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[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Why the hell was V3 such a bad politician and general in Animorphs?

Several things!

He gets put in charge of a planet he doesn't want, while forced to run his rival's playbook. Visser One is responsible for the covert infiltration, The Sharing, recruiting voluntary hosts, etc. Visser Three is a blunt instrument forced into a role that requires restraint and finesse. (Visser)

The reason he's in charge? He's more of a figurehead than a leader. The yeerks want their one and only andalite-controller highly visible, and so they give him an entire campaign — but he doesn't have a record of leadership, and he didn't put in the hard work to get good. (Andalite Chronicles)

Oh, and he's being sabotaged. V1 sends spies to observe and mess with his plans (MM4) because she's livid that he's "lost Earth, despite the fact that [she] handed it over in perfect shape" (#15). No wonder V3 has trust issues.

On top of that, Earth isn't the yeerks' priority. They view it as a slow frontier that will handle itself, where the bulk of their forces are on Leeran and Anati. Think of the U.S. sending its military against Canada in the War of 1812, while largely ignoring its war with the indigenous nations. Or focusing all power on Iraq because the invasion of Afghanistan was going so badly. For the yeerks, Earth is Oregon in 1812 or Afghanistan in 2003; their attention isn't there for 80% of the war because they figure it's a slow conflict of attrition and will sort itself out even without resources.

Almost every yeerk we see is in the worst sort of middle management: V3 gets inspectors (#37) but not a budget (#28), must finish others' projects (#25) but gets his expertise on Earth ignored (Visser). He's a public school teacher who can be punished for an infinite number of (arbitrary) infractions, but can excel all he wants without getting the tools to succeed.

So V3 is still the worst boss imaginable. And he doesn't exactly rise to the challenge of being an amateur general holding the line on a backwater frontier with severely limited resources and a debilitating need for secrecy (i.e. Jake). But he also has a ton of forces working against him, isn't allowed to play to his strengths, and doesn't have either the personal or the material resources to win the day.

[cruel-seduction]

Beyond Fears 

Summary - With the biggest exam of your life coming up, stress is eating you alive—but Mattheo refuses to let it win. He’ll do whatever it takes to pull you out of your own head, even if it means causing a little chaos. But when the truth behind your fear comes out, he’s ready to remind you of one thing—no matter what happens, he’s not going anywhere.

Content Warning - Suggestive theme and Curse words. 

Glimpse - “And as for your stupid little fear that I’ll find someone else—ugh, babe, do you think I’m insane? That my brain is rotting?” His lips twitched into a smirk before softening again. “Do you think I’d willingly trade you—the love of my fucking life, the only person who actually laughs at my dumb jokes, the only one who knows exactly how I like my coffee, the only soul on this godforsaken planet who makes me feel like I belong—for anyone else?” His voice was raw now, honest in a way that made your chest ache.

His forehead pressed against yours, his nose brushing yours as he whispered, “Baby, there is no one else. There never will be.”

a/n - Credit goes to @bernardsbendystraws. And also I wrote this based of on a scene from my fav show. Cause I needed to do crying reader over valid reason and this seem like best. And she does portrays that she is strong. but Mattheo is Mattheo bro.

Requested by @jarjarbinks-har-har

Mattheo could feel the tension rolling off you from a mile away—thick, restless, electric. Anxiety coiled around your frame like an iron grip, tightening with every breath you took. The upcoming exam loomed over you like a storm cloud, its weight pressing down on you with an unbearable force. If you passed, you’d be the youngest woman in history to earn a seat at one of the most prestigious higher education institutions for witches and wizards. The pressure was suffocating, an invisible noose tightening around your throat.

You weren’t the only one feeling it. Mattheo was tense too, but not because of the exam. No, he was wound up because of you—because your stress became his stress, your suffering bled into him like an open wound. He’d tried everything to ease your nerves. He took you to your favorite coffee shop, bought you anything you wanted, even tried distracting you with jokes and stolen kisses—but nothing worked. You were drowning in books, lost in your relentless pursuit of perfection, and no amount of comfort could pull you out.

Eighteen hours. That’s how long you had gone without sleep. Maybe more. You were running purely on caffeine and raw determination, your veins practically humming with exhaustion. Dark circles didn’t just shadow your eyes—they owned your face, carved into your skin like permanent bruises. At night, you sang old traditional songs in a hollow, eerie voice, studying by torchlight like some deranged scholar possessed by ancient magic. Your roommates had given up on you, groaning in frustration as your muttered revisions carried into the early hours. Even when Mattheo convinced you to crash in his dorm, you never truly rested. You just laid there beside him, whispering formulas, theories, and incantations under your breath, your fingers tracing invisible notes on his skin. It was getting out of hand.

Mattheo watched you now, his jaw clenched as he took in the sight before him—you, hunched over a book in the Great Hall, a cup of coffee gripped in one trembling hand, barely picking at your food with the other. Students all around were suffering through exam stress, but Mattheo didn’t give a damn about any of them. You were the only one who mattered. And watching you unravel like this was killing him.

Sitting beside him, Theodore Nott let out a low whistle. “Mate, what the hell is wrong with her?” he muttered, following Mattheo’s gaze.

Mattheo exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “That stupid exam is next week. She’s pushing herself too hard. If she doesn’t pass, she won’t be able to retake it for another four years. That would completely screw up her entire life plan.” His voice was tight, frustration laced beneath the concern.

Theodore huffed a laugh, lips curling in amusement. “Please, it can’t be that serious. No one plans their life around one exam.” Mattheo’s eyes darkened as he turned toward his friend. “It’s her wallpaper.” Theodore’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair. “The life plan. It hangs over her bed.” Theodore’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ of realization, his amusement fading into something more thoughtful.

Mattheo knew this couldn’t go on. He couldn’t just sit back and watch you self-destruct. No, he had to do something.

And he knew exactly what to do.

Later that day, Mattheo found you exactly where he expected—in the library, buried under an avalanche of books, your fingers gripping a quill like it was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. Without a word, he sank into the chair beside you, drumming his fingers against the wooden surface.

You didn’t even glance up, just exhaled a frustrated sigh before whispering, “Don’t waste my time. Just say what you wanna say.”

Mattheo smirked, leaning back in his chair with that signature arrogance, the kind that both infuriated and charmed you in equal measure. “Babe, don’t worry. You’re gonna crush it. You could take this exam with one eye closed and still beat half these idiots. And most importantly—” he paused, his voice softening slightly, “—even if you don’t, it’s fine. You got this.”

Your eyes snapped to his, narrowing. “You don’t know what you’re saying,�� you scoffed. “You’re only saying this because you love me. Love has made you dumber.”

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so. If anything, love has made me smarter. See, I haven’t picked a single fight this whole month.”

Your lips twitched despite yourself, a ghost of a proud smile appearing. “Yes, I am very proud of you for that. But if you don’t get the hell out in ten seconds, I will personally break your nose.”

Mattheo grinned like he’d been waiting for exactly that response. In a single, swift motion, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you to your feet before you could protest.

“What the hell, Mattheo?!” You struggled against his grip, your chair scraping noisily against the floor as he dragged you out of the library. Heads turned. You scowled. “Stop! I swear to Merlin, if this is another one of your—”

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down, only coming to a halt when he shoved open the door to an abandoned classroom and pulled you inside.

You shot him a glare as you yanked your arm free. “This better be good, Riddle, or I’m hexing your balls into oblivion.”

Mattheo’s smirk widened as he leaned casually against a desk, arms crossed over his chest. “Since you’re so stressed, I figured—why not give you a test?”

Your eyes darkened, your irritation sharpening into a glare. “Are you serious? You dragged me here for a fake test? These things are useless, Mattheo. They don’t have the same pressure, the same distractions. It’s all too damn quiet and perfect, like the walls themselves are whispering the answers.”

Mattheo tilted his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.” He clapped his hands together once, and suddenly, the door swung open.

In walked Abby and Scully from Ravenclaw, each lugging twenty-five bags of chips. As they sat down, they immediately started munching—loudly. Crunching, smacking, licking their fingers like they were trying to break a world record for obnoxious eating.

Your eye twitched.

But that wasn’t all. Right behind them, a group of students filed in—loud ones. The kind who couldn’t stay quiet if their lives depended on it. They bickered, they whispered, they tapped their quills against the desks, they fidgeted like caffeinated squirrels.

Mattheo leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Better prepare yourself, Y/L/N. This is your battlefield.” Then, with a wicked grin, he added, “And I know you wanna rip my clothes off right now, but you’re gonna have to wait and ace this test first.”

You stepped closer, so close that he sucked in a breath, his smirk faltering just slightly. Your voice dropped to a sultry whisper, just for him.

“I am so fucking turned on by you right now.” You smirked. “Give me five minutes to destroy this test. Then? You.”

Mattheo’s mouth fell open slightly, like he’d just been hit by a Confundus Charm.

You winked, snatching up the test from his hands, and took your seat, utterly unbothered by the chaos around you.

Mattheo, still standing there, watching you with something dark and heated in his gaze, let out a quiet, disbelieving chuckle.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered. “I think I just made studying sexy.”

Mattheo sat outside on the Quidditch field, staring up at the darkening sky, the cool breeze doing nothing to temper the frustration simmering in his chest. His fingers fidgeted with a stray blade of grass as he replayed the events of the day over and over in his head. He was about to go find you himself when he noticed Abby and Scully trudging toward him, looking particularly sheepish.

“We’re out of chips,” they said in perfect unison.

Mattheo blinked. Then scowled. “What the hell? I gave you fifty packets. And I told you to stay in that damn room.”

Scully shifted uncomfortably before muttering, “About that… Y/N kinda… vanished.”

Mattheo’s stomach dropped. His jaw clenched. “Vanished?” His voice was eerily calm, but his eyes—oh, his eyes had darkened into something deadly.

Abby nodded. “Yeah, she just—poof. One second she was there, the next, gone. No idea where.”

Mattheo shot to his feet, his entire body thrumming with tension. “I asked you to do one thing,” he snapped, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “One fucking thing—and you couldn’t even do that?” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Move aside.”

It was almost nightfall, and Mattheo, along with his friends, had been searching for you for over an hour. You were nowhere to be found. His mind churned with possibilities—were you upset? Were you hiding? Had something happened? And then, like a punch to the gut, it hit him.

Today’s date.

Mattheo stopped in his tracks, exhaling as realization settled over him. “I know where she is,” he muttered. “Go back to the dorms—I got this.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed toward the Potions classroom.

And there you were.

Curled up in a ball, tucked into the shadows, your arms wrapped around your knees as if holding yourself together. The dim candlelight flickered against your face, casting soft, golden hues over your tear-streaked cheeks. His chest tightened at the sight.

Mattheo said nothing as he stepped inside. He didn’t need to. Instead, he lowered himself to the floor beside you, his presence warm and steady.

You glanced up, your voice barely above a whisper. “How did you find me?”

His expression remained neutral, but his eyes—his eyes—were soft as they met yours. “15th of March.”

A humorless laugh escaped your lips, and despite yourself, a small, sad smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “Of course.”

Mattheo’s lips curled into one of those rare smiles—the kind he didn’t give just anyone. “A year ago, today, we had detention together.” His tone turned teasing. “You spent the whole night pretending to be annoyed while secretly staring at me like I was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, and by the end of it, you were completely infatuated with me.”

You gave him a side-eye. “Mattheo.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. You flirted with me for fifteen seconds, and I became obsessed.”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “Sounds more accurate.”

A comfortable silence settled between you both.

And then, softly, Mattheo asked, “Babe, can you tell me the real reason why you’re scared?”

You hesitated for a moment before shifting closer, resting your head against his shoulder. His warmth seeped into you, grounding you, anchoring you.

“I didn’t even know why I was so tense before,” you admitted. “But when I was in that classroom, giving that practice test… I realized.” Your throat tightened. “Passing this test means going away from you. And I—I don’t know how to handle that.”

Mattheo stayed quiet, letting you speak.

“All these days, I’ve been drowning myself in books, trying to avoid thinking about it. But in that classroom, it hit me.” Your voice cracked. “Everything between us is so good right now. But what if leaving ruins that? What if we can’t make long distance work? What if me being gone changes everything?” A tear slid down your cheek, soaking into Mattheo’s shirt. “And what if—” your voice broke entirely, and you inhaled shakily, “—what if you realize that you deserve better? What if you find someone else, someone closer? Someone who isn’t a whole country away?”

Mattheo was quiet for a beat. Then, with a slow exhale, he shook his head and lifted his hands to your face, cradling your cheeks between his palms. He wiped your tears away gently, then—because he was still Mattheo—he wiped his hands off on your shirt, making you let out a watery laugh.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Babe, listen to me—no, actually, shut up and listen, because I know that pretty little overthinking brain of yours is already running marathons.” His thumbs stroked your cheekbones, his touch featherlight. His gaze—intense, unwavering, filled with nothing but love—held you in place, made you feel every word before he even said them.

“Darling, if you don’t go—if you give up your dream for me—I swear I will throw myself into the nearest trash can and live there forever because that’s exactly where I belong if I let you do that.” His voice was steady, firm, convincing. “Baby, I want you to go. I need you to go. Not because I want to be away from you—hell no, I’m already dreading the distance—but because you’ve been dreaming about this since you were a kid, and the only thing worse than missing you would be watching you resent me for holding you back.”

You sniffled, lips trembling.

“And as for your stupid little fear that I’ll find someone else—ugh, babe, do you think I’m insane? That my brain is rotting?” His lips twitched into a smirk before softening again. “Do you think I’d willingly trade you—the love of my fucking life, the only person who actually laughs at my dumb jokes, the only one who knows exactly how I like my coffee, the only soul on this godforsaken planet who makes me feel like I belong—for anyone else?” His voice was raw now, honest in a way that made your chest ache.

His forehead pressed against yours, his nose brushing yours as he whispered, “Baby, there is no one else. There never will be.”

Tears slipped silently down your cheeks.

“So go. Conquer. Be brilliant.” He swallowed thickly. “And when you come back, I’ll be right here, still stupidly in love with you, probably crying into your hoodie and talking to your pictures like a lunatic.” He gave you a small, wry smile. “But I’ll be yours. Always.”

Your lips trembled. Your fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt.

And then, with no warning, you surged forward, crashing your lips against his in a kiss so deep, so desperate, it stole the breath from both your lungs.

Mattheo exhaled into your mouth, his arms winding around you like he never wanted to let go.

And maybe, just maybe—he never would.

[khorneschosen]

Oh if you want to stop hating gay people tell them that most gay people aren't supportive of the shit they are doing in their name and want their help to stop it and youll see republicans suddenly turn around and fight all the harder for gay people with the kind of just fury usually reserved for the victims of injustice.

Also I don't say nwo, but soro has documented reasons to be hated even if you are jewish. But hey its not like they spent a year harassing jewish people, supporting anti semitic terrorists, and denying Israel has a right to defend itself because its jewish and its neighbors hate that.

Yeah we do say illegals and we mean illegals and only illegals no matter where they come from and why are you conflating all Hispanics with a violent cartel?

Lol no they don't.

This is the worst one. You do the exact opposite in reverse while adding violence, censorship, and propaganda to your own side. Not to mention institutional capture so that even if we win an election we have to purge said institutions if our vote is to matter at all.

Republicans deliberately use coded language to trick people to vote for them and radicalize their group. Many don't even realize they're radicalized or what they're saying is even racist. This is why they think the Left is "over reacting" because the either know they're using coded language and don't care, or they don't know anything at all.

[nathaniels-diary]

Do we know anything about andrew minyards school life? Do you guys think he was bullied in elementary school, before people started being scared of him?

Imagine this very tiny eight year old kid, smaller than any kids in his class, because he doesnt have enough food at his foster homes. Also he doesnt talk alot with his peers, he mostly sits alone, never attempting to make friends. Also his clothes are often dirty and he probably doesnt have the best hygiene, after all he really doesnt enjoy looking at his bruised up body or seeing himself naked. Kids think he is weird and disgusting. Teachers know that something is up, but he is already in foster care and seriously they dont want to deal with a traumatized kid. Can you imagine that one day a classmate of Andrew wants to ask him something and he taps andrew on the back and through this sudden touch he winces. The kids think its funny that andrew is so jumpy and it kinda becomes a game to scare him randomly. But after a few weeks or months andrew just snaps. There is this guy, a pretty popular dude with a few friends, who makes fun of andrew alot. This dude tries to scare andrew by grabbing his shoulder, but at soon as andrew feels the touch on his skin he turns around ans punches this dude right in the face. He didnt mean to, after all he is a malourished kid two heads shorter than this boy, he has no chance of winning this fight. But he could stop making them see him as weak. After that day the "game" sort of stopped. Some "extremly funny" guys continued whenever they wanted a fight, but his other classmates seemed too scared of him. Who would hurt someone just because of a tiny little joke? This kid must be crazy. The rumors changed. He wasnt the weird, quiet, overly scared kid, he was now the agressive, unpredictable psycho kid. It wasnt what andrew wanted. Andrew was still just a kid that wanted friends. Andrew just wanted to be normal and not be bullied because of things other people did to him. But life isnt fair, andrew knew that already for a long time. And its easier to be feared

[arkhamsbrat]

Okayokayokay imagine gk! jason taking care of you when you’re sick! he’s such a sweetie pie I wouldn’t know what to do with myself…

SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!SHUTUPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

gk! jason coming to your place with your favorite soup from that takeout place on the corner of your street… just cause you texted him to let him know ur ill… it was actually you telling him to stay at his own apartment for once because you didn’t want to get him sick. that man doesn’t listen.

he also doesn’t like being away from you but that’s besides the point. yes, hed face 1000 illnesses for you… worry about that when you arent sick.

jason’s standing at your door, takeout bag in hand. he cracks a crooked smile when you open the door wrapped in an old quilt, tissue in hand. “told y’i was sick, dummy.” youre glaring at him. its easy for him to read past it, jason knows its because you care about his health more than he does.

“yeah. and im being your boyfriend. gonna let me in, or…” he dangles the bag in front of you. “should i take this to my apartment?” the soup sloshes against the plastic container, almost begging you to down it all in one go. “bastard. c’mon. your fault if you catch a cold.” the wooden floorboards of your apartment creak as he pushes the door open further, grin widening.

jason: 1, you: 0.

“it’d be worth it if i did.” he eyes the makeshift nest youve created in your bed. your apartment is freezing, no wonder you need all those blankets. rifling through the cabinets doesn’t comfort him any further. half the medicine is expired and the other half won’t do anything. “you are…” he trails off, seeing you still glaring at him. “yes?”

“if you are about to judge my medicine cabinet, i will kill you.” he nods once, holding back a laugh as he raises his hands in defeat. “alright, alright.”

it’s a little dance you two do. jason couldn’t care less if he lived or died, but you? he needed you to take care of yourself. you felt the reverse. both of you in a never-ending battle of who would “win”. both of you far, far, FAR too stubborn to admit that you liked when you got babied by the other.

“can i at least go getchya somethin’ that’ll actually make you feel better?” you grunt in response, practically nose deep in the soup he brought you. it was, in fact, helping. “whens the last time you ate, huh?” your eyes peer over the container and you send him a nervous smile. “haven’t felt okay enough to eat?”

jason walks over to the table and kisses your forehead. “call me next time, my stubborn, stubborn girl. i’m stayin’ til you’re better.”

[maybe-buttons]

animorphs was important to me because all children's books at that age were like "here's the good guys and the bad guys, and the good guys win in the end", which I suppose has its moral value

but like i was definitely NOT WINNING and there were some people who seemed to be winning who were Not Good Guys

and then Applegate came in swooping with this masterpiece that went "kid everyone is kinda losing, and also there's no such thing as black and white good guys. look at this. look at the heroes. LOOK at this your heroes are being tried at the Hague and they'll get away with their war crimes because they won the war, but they'll never be at peace LOOK at Jake yes he's gonna kill himself fuck you!!!!"

masterpiece

made funnier by the fact that Applegate's latest books are just a series about a cute gorilla and his friends or something. or at least that's what it seems to be. who the fuck knows

Get in the normal and functioning spaceship.

[acexsmhking]

hello!! Can you write a headcanons/oneshot post of (separate) ticci toby, eyeless jack, and/or jane the killer dating a piercing obsessed! Reader? Ppl always say lots of piercings r unattractive :(( but omgg i love ppl with lots of piercings, theyre so lovely! Thank youu:D

𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞

(𝗻.) 𝗔 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗼𝗼𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

: ̗̀➛ Piercing!Reader x Shared Headcanons

(Toby, Jack, Jane)

Summary: GN!Reader with love for piercings/having multiple being in a relationship with Toby, Jack and Jane. How would they react?

Warning(s): None! Mostly just fluff, FEM & TRANSF in mind for Jane

・❥・ Toby

First of all, Toby himself is covered in a lot of facial piercings so he is not one to judge! He loves piercings, especially on himself (egotistical asshole knows how sexy he is), so if you love them just as much him, he immediately just yaps with you

Do not trust him to give you one.

Now if you really like piercings but hate needles? He definitely bullies you about it some but understands. Since he can’t feel pain he can feel a lot of the pressures/intrusions that the pain usually covers up and it can weird him out

He plays with your piercings like a lot. Mostly nervous fidgeting type things

OMG DO YOU HAVE TO STAY ONTOP OF HIM IF HE GETS A NEW ONE, he is so bad at taking care of them himself but he’s so good about taking care of yours. Little weirdo

Now, Toby can be mean during fights so sometimes if he’s close enough he’ll twist one. Petty little shit. But he is quick to apologize, he just likes winning arguments

・❥・Jack

Jack like.. literally cannot see. So he genuinely just thinks your piercings are apart of you. Like he really doesn’t remember things of humans and so he completely forgot about minuscule things like piercings

He does like licking them tho, that nice metal taste

Weirdo.

Once you actually explain it he’s a little perplexed. Since he’s an apex predator usually they associate things like anything piercing you as hindrance to hunts

But whatever makes you happy!

Since Jack does live in a lot of holes/caves you probably are gonna wanna let your piercings heal a lot or just clean them a lot more so the dust and dirt doesn’t infect/irritate them

If you wanna give Jack piercings well.. it’s gonna have to be like a really protected spot. He’s running around and climbing lots of trees not to mention how many people actually do try fighting a 6’10 demon..creature…thingy. So you don’t want him getting hurt

That and his healing factor literally is just too good at its job. Damn powers. But hey you can get those little fake ones! He’ll try to keep them on but…

・❥・Jane

Again! She doesn’t judge. She thinks they’re pretty cool, now she can’t have any cause.. well.. she’s a little crispy but! She will wear matching fake ones with you

Definitely best person to get a nice piercing with as she helps you clean and stay on top of them

She bought you a little machine thingy to clean them for you<3

She does actually have her ears pierced but she can’t wear them for long any more :(

She is also stupidly good at finding missing earrings, piercings and jewelry like omg. Like I mean fucking assassin’s creed eagle vision type shit

She’s good in general at findings things really

Omg does she love kissing your piercings <3 she especially likes nose piercings, JANE IS A NOSE KISSER IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS

my romantical wife<3

She will buy rings and necklaces to match your piercings too! She’s pierced with you in spirit ya know

: ̗̀➛ hehe i loved this. I gotta write Jane and the others their own general headcanons soon, I’m just lazy. Also tell me why Chapter 3 is not plotting how I want it too like come on brain work, anyways I loved this little ask! I have got to start writing more of other characters too I have like… 18 drafts of all sorts of shit. Impulsive writing — Ace

[superpowereddonut]

Spencer's Star (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)

Hi! I was just re-watching Criminal Minds and had to write this short little drabble! Also, this is my first time experimenting with the use of 2nd person (ie. using 'you'), but I still didn't use Y/N. Please let me know what you think!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader / Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Episode: 5x13 'Risky Business' (end scene on the jet)

Warnings: Slight (canon) Spencer-targeted bullying by the team (but not from reader!)

Word count: 907

*****

It had been a good case. Well… good by BAU standards. 

Since the team had arrived in the small rural county in Wyoming, there had been no further deaths and within only 48-hours they had caught the unsub - an EMT who goaded teenages into choking themselves to death through an online ‘game’. Still, despite the quick solve, the whole case had been disturbing. You wondered whether anyone else was still dwelling on the twisted man who had repeatedly choked his own son. Or if anyone but Hotch had noticed JJ’s seemingly personal stake in this case. Move on, you reminded yourself, tomorrow there will be another case, and then another, and another. You can’t afford to dwell on each one. 

Shaking your head slightly, you forced yourself to focus on the present, just as Emily took out a wooden shape and placed it on the table between you. “What is that?” Spencer asked from the seat to your left.

"It’s called a star puzzle.” Emily replied, “It’s basically impossible to figure out.” 

You watched with interest as she began to take it apart, and noted Spencer’s quick eyes tracking each of her movements. “You have to put all of the pieces back together to form a perfect star,” she explained, “but the origin of it is kind of a romantic tale.” 

Emily began recounting the story, her voice soft and lilting. “There was this young prince who wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land. So, he climbed to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom and he caught a falling star for her.” 

The whole plane seemed to be listening to Emily now - Rossi was watching from where he leant against the plane window next to her, and Penelope was hanging off her words as she carefully knitted what looked like a bright blue tea cosy. Even Derek, lounging on the seats behind you and Spencer, had taken off his headphones to hear better. But - as it so often did - your attention had moved to Spencer, who now had a slight crease in his brows. 

“Unfortunately he was so excited that he dropped it and it smashed into all of these pieces…” Spencer reached out to pick up the now-separated pieces of the puzzle, his arm gently brushing yours as he moved. “...so, he frantically put it back together again to prove his undying love for her,” Emily was saying, “and he succeeded, and they lived happily ever after.” You caught Penelope’s soft sigh from the back of the plane before Spencer spoke up, “That doesn’t make any sense.” He said, and you had to hide your smile at his adorably confused tone. “What do you mean?” Emily replied, now frowning as well.

“You can’t catch a falling star. It would burn up in the atmosphere.” It was becoming difficult to hide your fond amusement, and you almost had to physically sit on your hands to keep from reaching out to smooth his furrowed brow.

“Yeah but it’s not literal, Reid, it’s a fable.” 

Spencer didn’t seem satisfied, “But there’s no moral. Fables have morals.”

“Okay, so it’s just a romantic little story,” Emily rebutted, growing exasperated, “The point is, it’s basically impossible to do because you have to take all of those pieces and fit them together exactly…” 

You watched, transfixed, as Spencer’s long, nimble fingers worked quickly, slotting each piece together with precision before he gently set it down in front of you, once again in its complete shape.

“There’s a lot to hate about you Dr. Reid.” Emily said, sarcasm softening her harsh words. You heard Derek chuckle from behind you.

“Play poker with him sometime.” Rossi said with a quiet smile.

“Try playin chess with him.” Derek chimed in.

“Or Go” came Penelope’s voice from the back.

You rolled your eyes at the familiar teasing jabs, but your smile fell when you saw Spencer’s face. You knew that look. He was feeling insecure, running back over the entire interaction to see where he had missed a social cue, or messed up in his contribution to the conversation. He didn’t seem to have picked up on Emily’s sarcasm, instead taking her comment to heart.

“Don’t be fooled,” you spoke up, “he watched you take apart the star and memorised the movements. He just had to repeat the pattern in reverse.” 

Emily’s eyebrows shot up before she turned to Spencer. “Did you really?” She asked, and her tone now held unmistakable awe. He just shrugged, though you noticed the set of his shoulders relax slightly and his cheeks flush pink at her admiration.

The rest of the team gradually turned their attention elsewhere, and you were about to go fishing in your bag for a book when Spencer’s arm brushed yours again. You looked up to see his dark eyes fixed on yours. Oh, those eyes. They had always reminded you of old, cosy libraries and soft caramels that melt on your tongue. It was an effort not to lean into his warmth.

“How did you know I memorised the pattern?” He asked, his voice a soft whisper as though not to draw the attention of the others.

You allowed yourself a small smirk. “I know you too well Doctor Reid,” you said, equally quiet, “you’re going to have to try harder than that to impress me.”

His answering grin made your heart skip a beat. 

“Challenge accepted.”

[ilynpilled]

the thing that keeps me huffing the Jaime Lives copium fuel is that killing him would be way too fucking boring (& easy). Oh he fights in the long night? Back to back with his sword's twin? Having these two warriors complement and mirror each other? Having learned that it's not the law that dictates what deeds are good? That it's following your morals and humanity that do? And then he DIES???????? i sleep. He needs to live with his shame forever, actually (or maybe get the fuck over it like an adult but hey we can't ask everything of a 35yo teenager). also narratively blablabla it's more interesting if he lives and has a relatively good life when it comes to the whole "bUt HaS he BeEn RedEemeD?!?!" shit. If he's dead it's a fucking pointless conversation. Mic drop i guess although this is all over the place lol. ps: brienne also needs her trophy consort-husband.

ive said before that this was always my personal angle for my desire for him living bc this is what i would probably love the most when considering george’s intentions and the questions he admitted to be putting forth with him bc ig this is my personal answer to those questions. and you know much of that angle is seeped in this (and i really do like the whole “lifes a bitch and then u die but sometimes lifes a bitch and then u keep on living” and want that for my faves in some form)

but i do think his death works and is already set up with a lot of this idea of “legacy” and what part of him is meant to not be interred with his bones (pretty clear how brienne’s fire is the extension of his lol, and we know what she embodies thematically), and that i think is also pretty poignant w these questions. i think that might be the story george is telling w him:

atp i am just leaning towards anything thats memorable and moving and fulfilling to me personally even if it is leaning more towards tragic than just bittersweet (still my ideal) but i do not have a specific vision for it really

[222doll222]

Today was challenging.

I almost lost control. Its so strange. It was so hard to fight the food thoughts. I was already restricting successfully for a whole week, so sure of myself that I finally got my mind only focused on restriction. This morning I even repeated this mantra that only my weight loss is important and that it´s the only thing I need to focus on and everything else doesn´t matter

But still. After school and after eating my OMAD for the day (potato soup btw) which was also very filling, asked me my mother to bring her some ice cream. Ofc I was going to the freezer, already afraid to open it and maybe seeing stuff I like. But I put some of the ice cream in a bowl and took a bite. no two. And I tried it.

After a whole week of being perfect. A whole week of eating no sweets. A whole week of omads.

But that was it. I thought of just getting myself some ice cream too. But I resisted. I did it. I only took two small bites and i didn´t eat the whole pantry. Ofc I could have just not eaten anything at all from it. I know. But on the other side I know that if i allow myself to just get a "little" treat it ends in binging and completely ruining my progress because I think fuck it. But I actually got it under control today.

Later in the evening my mom opened a packet of biscuits and offered me some but I said "No thanks. I don`t want any." It could be as easy as that. But there is a war in my mind anyways, constantly. Always urging me to just take it. To just eat it. To just swallow it.

Sometimes it´s such a hard mental game but I can´t lose.

I need to win. I need to reach my goal. I need to be thin.

You'll regret eating that food, But you'll never regret refusing to eat it.

[aangelinakii]

THE TEDDY THAT NEEDS TWO PARENTS.

— not his partner, not his lover.

summary : you're sick of this situationship you're in with tim drake. it's time for a change, and you're going to get it. one way or another.

note : mention of sexual occurances ? but it's not explicitly said it's more of like an alluded to sexual stuffs,, and also mentions of food issues and also tim is toxic !!!!!!

requested !

he's standing here, paid with his own money, throwing rubber balls at tin cans to win you a stupid teddy bear — but it's the biggest one on the shelf, so you're not too upset.

it's just... isn't this what boyfriends do? you know, for the people they're dating?

and, whatever this was between you and tim drake, it's not dating.

he throws his final ball, with a single tower of three cans left; he started with three balls, three towers, and managed to knock the first two down. if he misses this, you'll pretend to be upset, but then give him a kiss anyway as a thanks for participating.

you can't watch. your hands come to shield your eyes from the loss he's about to suffer.

ding! ding! ding!

from beside you, tim cheers and the attendant behind the stand gives a laugh. "nice one, what can i get for you?"

tim's voice grows farther away as he moves off to get the teddy bear, and you reluctantly move your hands away. he's probably just joking around to make you think he did it.

but when your eyes land on the table, which once owned three towers, you find it mostly empty, save for the few tin cans toppled to their sides. he... he did it?

you turn, and tim's coming back, his smile wide and shiny, the white stuffed teddy the same size as the length of his torso. "did you see?" he grins, holding out the bear for you, its head bobbing to the side, looking like its being held up by the scarlet red ribbon tied there. "three towers down just like that."

a surprised laugh huffs past your lips, and you have to try to pretend you're not surprised — not when it comes to tim, you shouldn't be surprised anymore.

"yeah, you were just great!" you reply, taking the bear beneath the shoulders and holding it to your side. he is really cute... or she. you should name it, but the only name you can think of is tim, and you're not sure you want to remember your new teddy by him.

seeming to mimic your action with the teddy bear, tim loops his arm around your back, pulling you snug into his side as you step away from the stand, the man stacking the towers back up again behind you. "where to next?" tim asks, squeezing the fabric of your clothes beneath his palm lightly. "i'm kind of hungry after all that throwing."

this time a real laugh comes out. "throwing? you barely threw them hard enough to kill a fly if it went past."

cheeky smile on his face, tim removes his arm to sling around your shoulders. "well, i saw a burger truck that smelled really good when we passed earlier. you up for burgers?"

"as long as you're paying." despite what could've sounded self-depricating, your tone told tim you were joking. he still squeezes your shoulder regardless.

"don't worry, i've got you tonight," he smiles, peering down at you beneath crescented eyes that come with his grin. it doesn't seem his lips are budging any time soon. "everything on me. gotham doesn't always have the carnival."

see? in this light, the purples and reds and greens flashing from the ferris wheel you tread beneath, he could be a boyfriend. the words he chooses, sure to melt your heart, if only you weren't thinking the entire time about how he could be the one to mend it.

yet he seems to break it every time.

every time he leaves your place, after spending the night in your arms, or you in his; every time he walks past you like he hasn't seen you most at your vulnerable, whether it be tears streaming down your face or stripped to your under garments. every time you're together with other people and he refers to you as his friend.

just his friend.

not his partner, not his lover. nothing of the sort.

and then he has the nerve to take you on a date to the fair like a good boyfriend would?

when you come back to your senses, you're standing next in line at the burger van tim said he wanted food from. to be honest, your appetite disappeared long ago; you can't seem to stomach food in his presence.

but he squeezes your shoulder again and smiles down at you and you think you'll ask him just to get you some fries. if you're hungry later you'll eat when you're alone.

finally the group in front moves away, and tim steps up to the cook leaning out the window, where delicious fumes of oil-soaked meats and spices of condiments are floating through. "hey! can i get a large cheeseburger, everything inside, and a pepsi max?" tim orders, and then looks down at you, the light from inside the van casting shadows on his face that make him look almost soft. almost. "you craving much?"

it takes you a minute, your mind too focused on how the light can change the way your heart beats for him; if you can't see the entire face that keeps letting you down, it seems to not think anything's wrong. "just some fries, please."

"great," tim smiles, turning back to nod at the man, and he reels his arm back from over your shoulders to dig into his pocket for his wallet. "you find somewhere while i pay, okay? i'll come with the food."

no need to tell you twice.

when you detach yourself from him, your entire side is burning with the remnants of tim drake, his casual kindness, lingering smiles, such a great contrast to how he sounded on the phone the other night when you asked him to hang out; deep sighs, long pauses. it's like he's an entirely different person.

your thoughts keep you occupied long enough to see tim return, balancing a cardboard box of loaded fries, his wrapped burger and his cup of pepsi in his arms. you found a picnic bench nearby, and purposely sat your new teddy in the space beside you so tim would have to sit opposite you instead.

maybe if you looked at him hard enough you could hate him.

tim sits down before you none the wiser. he places the food down and pokes the box of fries over to your section of the wooden table. you probably won't end up touching them, and he'll eat them all, which is fair, considering it's his money.

he begins to eat his burger like he can't read the room; not like he ever had that skill with you anyway.

still, you find it hard to believe he works alongside batman, once acting as his main sidekick — and he still can never pick up on your frustration towards him.

or maybe it's that he just chooses not to.

"tim," you say firmly, causing him to look up from his burger, but continue chewing all the while. "can we talk?"

"yeah, anything," you just about make out through his mouthful of beef and cheese and bap bun.

"can you stop eating for this?"

his chew pauses, and you can tell in the couple seconds he looks at you that he's weighing up the situation. he resumes crunching down his mouthful and places the burger down on its wrapping, swallowing his food.

now his attention is on you — fully, for what feels like the first time in months — the words feel like they're about to disappear, like you're going to back out and leave this unspoken.

no, you have to.

you have him now, you have to.

"i... guess i just want to say i'm not really sure this is," you finally say.

tim doesn't make an effort to respond, or even seem like he understands what you mean.

"like..." oh, god, here come the stupid words. "what are we?"

that seems to do it.

his lips part like he wants to say something but stopped quickly, and he flinches like you're holding your fists up at him, ready to strike, but you haven't moved, and he doesn't speak.

does he even know?

"like, i know we're friends, but it feels like we're on a date right now," you further explain, feelings hot and heavy in your chest. "and it's not like you asked me to go on a date with you, you just said let's go to the carnival, but i feel like you're treating me... i don't know. like we're actually together."

a pause.

"and you always treat me like that, except for when we're with other people, then you don't. then you act like you don't want anything to do with me at all."

his eyes have flitted down to stare at his burger, almost like he's expecting it to grow arms and legs and come to his aid.

"so i guess i just want an explanation."

seeing this as the end of your rant, tim lets out a great sigh.

he brings his hands up from beneath the table, resting his elbows on the wood and steepling his fingers, where his chin rests on the tips. he won't look at you, but he's incredibly silent, so much so that the screams and laughs of fairgoers around you seems to grow louder in the absence of his voice.

the silence alone urges you to reach out for the still-untouched box of fries, and you pull it towards yourself, reaching in for a salty chip, eager to pass the time until he dare speaks.

you've stopped counting how many chips you've eaten when you can make out his voice over the round of screams as the rollercoaster zooms past.

"i'm sorry," is all he says, but you push the box of fries a smidgen away, an instinctive reaction to him. you deserve to unlearn that.

your stare is hot on him, and even in the lack of daylight you can tell he's squirming under the pressure.

"i shouldn't be dragging you along," he continues sheepishly, avoiding your eyes like his life depends on it. "i... i suppose it's just easier to be like this than to man up and actually ask you. and you've shown me you'll just... god, this is horrible."

"no, tell me," you answer almost immediately. "tell me so i can do better. i don't want to be stupid."

"you're not—" the ghost of a smile dances along his lips. "you're not stupid. it's my fault, not yours at all in this. i was being selfish, taking advantage of what i could get. and what i could get was you, i suppose."

even though he's being honest, which you want, you can't help but feel a twang in the pit of your stomach.

"you do like me, though, right?" you ask him before you can stop yourself. you sound like a child, but you can justify it by reminding yourself of all the mixed signals he's been giving you the past few months.

this is what causes that small smile to widen, show the truth of his feelings, heart to spill out all over the table. he gives a small nod, like he can't believe he's doing it, and gingerly places a hand on the table, palm facing up.

he takes a small breath, words uncertain as he speaks next. "i totally understand if you get up right now and choose to never see me again — like, i really, really get it — but... i don't know, i really like you, i think i just need to unlearn some things about myself. would you, i don't know, stay around and teach me better?"

now is the time his eyes finally meet yours, and he's leaning ever so slightly across the table towards you. should you do it?

"i know i was stringing you along, but i don't think i waited for a minute to actually think about what i was doing."

even though every pang of sadness and ache from the past five months is telling you not to, something stronger behind your ribs is telling you to take his hand.

and so you take it.

"this bear is gonna need two parents," you muster up the courage to say, a bashful smile shining through.

tim even grins — something you're not used to being because of you — and he stands up slightly to lean into you, his hand still gripping yours, but the other comes to place lightly on the side of your head. a soft peck lands on your crown, possibly the softest tim has ever been with you.

when he sits back down, his free hand finds his burger again. "can i eat yet?"

"yes, you can eat," you chuckle in response.

although it's clear he's trying to hide it behind his big bite of burger, tim's grinning, and his eyes fold into soft crescents. "so, does this mean i'm your boyfriend?"

"it fucking better, you dick."

the words are harsh but your tone is sweet, spoken alongside a smile that causes your cheeks to hurt.

[babybearnation]

Lando and reader being a chaotic gremlin couple, causing chaos wherever they go

-🦊

lando is SUCH a chaotic gremlin oml

lando norris x gn!formula 1!reader (chaotic gremlin headcanons)

cw: suggestive

mclaren staff hate you two

the other drivers hate you two

even the fans hate you two sometimes

hell, other teams hate you two because you distract their drivers

you two are too chaotic and they don't know how to handle it bcuz they could barely handle lando on his own prior to your arrival

when you two find something funny, its like a pack of hyenas fucking spawned in the middle of the paddock

you two laugh SO LOUD and for SO LONG that it really does piss people off sometimes

its not uncommon for one or both of you to fall off your chair from laughing too much

you know how lando broke max's trophy in 2023 and then the go pro on one of the champagne bottles in 2024? yeah no, that's tame compared to what you're like on the podium

you got on the podium once and broke the fucking railing trynna spray everyone with champagne

the only reason you didn't fall off the podium is because lando pulled you back at the last second

yeah, you got fined for that but you literally didn't care

drivers, especially oscar, hate to be in the same hotel as you (and i say especially oscar because, as lando's teammate, he has no choice but to be in the same hotel)

why? you two are SO LOUD and you fuck like rabbits

you actually didn't realise how loud you were until you forgot oscar was hosting a mini get together in his hotel room and about 8 different drivers came and banged on the door at the same time, yelling for you to shut up

its very rare for you to be upset around lando bcuz he will try everything he can to make sure you are happy and smiley and if that means making a fool of himself, then so be it!

and he knows you'd do the same for him so he really doesn't care what other drivers or the media have to say about it

if you two are battling for the wdc, or even the wcc, he'll turn it into a game - who can do the most overtakes? who can win by the biggest gap? who can blow the most kisses toward the other in the middle of an overtake? oh.. its only lando doing that last one? oh okay, not as annoying for everyone else then

lando is not afraid to suck on the straw of your drinks bottle in front of everyone just to tease you

you always snatch it out of his hand, lick it, wink at him, and then walk away and leave him to be chastised by his fellow drivers

any time oscar or your teammate wins a race, you and lando will team up together to douse said teammate in champagne

you do it for each other too because its sort of a tradition now tbh

although, to be fair, the only reason lando lets you do it to him at all is because he got you with two bottles at once one time and not only did he nearly chip one of your teeth with one of the bottles, he also made you fall sick because the double dose of champagne was that cold

but also, any time you win a race, he will straight up try and finger you in the middle of the paddock and everyone hates that because that's a literal crime and also gross, so you've learnt to stay away from him until you get to the hotel

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[barrenclan]

I just want you to know you fixed my broken motivation to read. I used to read tons of books growing up. I was one of those people that would stay up all night to finish a 5 inch chapter book front to back in one sitting. But like, idk when exactly it happened, but sometime during my mid-late teens my motivation to read just kept dropping until there wasn't a book that could keep my attention for more than a few pages at a time, and I would rarely ever get passed the first chapter or two. I blame part of it on an addiction to social media and short-form content completely ruining my attention span, but I also blame part of it on other unrelated mental health issues.

Anyway, I've been desperately trying to fix my ability to read for years now, because its something I've always loved and I genuinely really miss it. But nothing was helping until I came across PATW a few months ago and read all of it (what was out at the time) in one sitting. Since then, I've been able to start introducing reading back into my life. Im starting with relatively "easy" reads, but the fact that I can sit down, read a book, and it keep my attention for any considerable amount of time is so relieving. So yeah, thanks for getting the ball rolling!

(I've also deleted all my socials except Tumblr, which is a win for me personally)

Aw gosh! I'm so honored that I could be the one who gets you reading again. Any amount of time spent with any book is good in my opinion and I don't look down on people for reading "easy books" (I gobble down a ton of cheap fantasy and horror myself!). But literacy is great and I always encourage it. :]