#you have to fight and learn and problem solve

[fellthemarvelous]

Palpatine was interfering with Anakin's Jedi training from the very beginning.

Palpatine was playing the long game. He enabled Anakin's darker tendencies. He preyed on Anakin's insecurities and often alluded to this notion that the Jedi were somehow holding him back.

Anakin's regret over killing Count Dooku, knowing he was an unarmed prisoner (he'd just cut off Dooku's hands), was met with an excuse from Palpatine.

"It's only natural. He cut off your arm, you wanted revenge."

What he did was have Anakin kill the one person who knew Palpatine was Darth Sidious.

Palpatine also tried to convince Anakin to leave an unconscious Obi-Wan behind, but Anakin refused to abandon his best friend.

Palpatine knowingly sent Padme into dangerous situations during the Clone Wars. Palpatine weaponized Anakin's love for Padme to the detriment of everyone. Anakin betrayed the Jedi Order for Padme, and learning that truth broke her heart.

Palpatine set Anakin up to lose everything he loved in order to break him, and his plan worked. Anakin betrayed everyone he loved and it cost him everything.

It honestly just blows my mind that people blame the Jedi when Palpatine has also been there since the very beginning of Anakin's Jedi training. He was so good at hiding in plain sight that the Jedi couldn't sense anything. He manipulated the shit out of Anakin and lied to the galaxy just to get revenge against the Jedi and impose his tyranny on everyone. He was a charismatic politician and many in the Republic fell for his act. He convinced the Senate to vote away more and more freedoms, using democracy against itself to help him consolidate power. He was patient for victory, and it paid off. His revenge against the Jedi and the mind games he played with Anakin made him nearly untouchable when he declared himself Emperor.

Palpatine used Anakin. He treated Anakin like a tool in his quest for unlimited power. He learned all of Anakin's deepest fears and used them to turn him against the Jedi. He even influenced Anakin's political leanings, something we see as early as Attack of the Clones. It's a pretty heavy-handed moment in a very light-hearted romantic backdrop, but it echoes the kind of rule that Palpatine is seeking.

I'm not saying that the Jedi don't deserve criticism, but the real enemy is and always has been Palpatine. He manipulated the entire galaxy and created a massive divide amongst the people. He took control when the galaxy was at its weakest, while the Jedi were being gunned down by their own troopers, while one of their very own betrayed them and murdered countless Jedi younglings.

Next to his mother, Padme was the most important person in Anakin's life. He got to his mother in enough time to free her from her shackles, but he wasn't able to prevent her from dying. His vision about Padme scared him into believing he had to fight a hidden enemy to save her so she wouldn't meet the same fate as his mother. Palpatine made him scared and angry enough to believe that murdering all the Jedi would prevent her from dying during childbirth. In the end, his own actions contributed to her death.

Anakin became the very person Palpatine molded him into, getting him to take on the very role Palpatine had groomed him for since Anakin was a child. Obi-Wan told his Qui-Gon vision on Mortis that balance continued to elude Anakin, and Palpatine is a key reason why.

Palpatine wasn't just making conversation when he said he would follow Anakin's career with great interest at the end of the The Phantom Menace. That's the moment he began mentoring his future apprentice. Palpatine was the Phantom Menace with a violent revenge plot against an order that did genuinely good things for the galaxy. It's not the fault of the Jedi that they were not able to solve all the galaxy's problems. Palpatine gave them a problem that was too big for them to handle and had them executed for their efforts.

And he used Anakin to make it happen.

[wildpokemon]

my favorite thing about severance actually is that love doesn't transcend severance

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

"Ford is intellectually smart and Stan is emotionally smart" is a statement that makes me want to nose dive into academic studies in order to single-handedly redefine the categories of intelligence because that *cant* be right.

[mokeonn]

Before I go to sleep I leave you all with this piece of advice: sometimes you don't actually have to answer big political questions, sometimes you can just say "I am not smart enough to know that, I just know the small things I do to help." Like you can often times completely avoid making a fool of yourself if you just say you don't know.

[kn-1013]

i know i've been on my anti-modern AU propaganda lately and it's just because i've been delving deeper into the sally face ao3 tags and i just keep finding them over and over. it's frustrating because there are a lot of really interesting concepts out there that would fit really well and make for a genuinely really interesting story in the 90s, but they get thrown off because the author doesn't know enough about the 90s to write for that time period, so they make it into a modern au instead. there's nothing inherently wrong with that, and i think there's room for modern aus to be done well here, i even have my own half-serious modern au, but i do think you often lose part of what makes sally face special when you turn the story into any other kind of contemporary love story/horror story/etc where all the characters just have ~iphones~ and use ~snapchat~ and all these things.

like, the 90s was not some kind of alien planet, and a vast number of the problems that you're solving with smartphones can be worked around very easily with just a bit of research or thought. long distance walkie-talkies, pagers, and PDAs were all (though sometimes expensive) perfectly capable contemporary technologies for talking to people when you are not physically with them. in fact, a lot of the abbreviations and slang we use over text right now was developed by young people in the 90s using pagers to talk to their friends. PDAs were a bit more out there in the 90s than they were in the aughts, but it's still completely plausible for henry in particular to have one, considering he already owns a home computer, which was not at all ubiquitous in the 90s. considering the apparent financial limitations that he and sal live under (it's never stated explicitly, but i mean, they live at addison's, they can't be in a great financial situation) and how insanely expensive computers were back then, it's more than likely that henry's job requires a home computer of some sort, meaning that a PDA would probably be incredibly useful to him if he were away from it, because there's no way in hell he's getting himself a luggable or another kind of early laptop to bring with him, that would've been too expensive.

and that's ignoring the fact that so many situations where two characters are apart form each other but need to communicate could just be fixed by rewriting the plot so that they can meet in person. i know that's not what people wanna hear because rewriting sucks, but you can find a lot of reasons for characters to meet each other randomly or to have reasons to meet up later if you give it a bit of problem-solving. part of what makes the pre-smartphone era interesting to write for and so optimized for horror, and probably a big reason that gabry chose this time period for the story in the first place, is the level of disconnection between each character in the story BECAUSE they don't have things like smartphones. having to work around this technological limitation is part of the fun, because you get a very enjoyable push and pull of closeness vs. disconnection between each character.

this is great for alienating ash, the only one who doesn't live in the apartments (except for neil), and causing her internal conflict about her relationships with the rest of her friends, especially as the story progresses and they start discovering more shit about the cult, and her instincts are to call the cops because she's a lot more normal than her friends are. or, it's good for alienating travis, who also doesn't live there and is far more isolated than everyone else (more on that next), or for creating an unhealthy and codependent relationship between sal and larry, who, with the walkies, are the only two in the friend group who DO have semi-instant access to each other all the time--all of which are plot points i put into my writing.

and if that's not enough, think about the implications for travis's character in particular. his father is a preacher, and a huge talking point of christian extremists in the 90s was that things like television were evil and demonic in some way. they campaigned against these things heavily. with the kind of person that we know kenneth phelps to be and the way many technologies we take for granted today, including TVs, were still being adopted by older generations, it's not out of the question at all that travis doesn't own something like a TV or a VCR, putting him even more out of the loop with what other people his age are doing than he already would be, having approximately 0 friends. he doesn't know what DND is, and he doesn't know how to look it up because he's not familiar with computers or the internet, he just knows his dad thinks it's demonic, so he steers clear of it.

the intention of cult leaders like kenneth is to keep their victims as isolated as possible, and not owning a TV, VCR, home computer, etc, is a great way to keep travis and his sisters isolated and disconnected from their peers, and therefore more connected to the cult, and it's a lot easier to justify not owning these things in the 90s, where the story already takes place, than it is if you're writing a modern au. a modern au for this situation would require all kinds of technological workarounds to make sure that travis owned a phone but couldn't do anything his father didn't want him doing on it. he's the kind of father who would go through and monitor his kid's texts, he wouldn't just let travis have snapchat or whatever, but i digress.

i know i'm just doing my petty bitching and people can do whatever they want however they want to, but i really do feel like there's a huge piece of the story that is lost in turning the sally face story as it is into some kind of modern au, and it's pretty unfortunate to me that people seem to think that the 90s was such a primitive alien world of incomprehensible technology that they don't want to write for that time period at all. it's really not as terrifying as it seems, genuinely. a surface level understanding of the era's technologies would be straightforward enough for anyone who wasn't there to write something perfectly coherent, if lacking in specific cultural/technological details that nobody but me cares about because i have autism.

if you're a sally face fan reading this and you struggle with writing for the american 90s because you weren't there, go look up pagers (also called beepers) and PDAs (which are basically early pocket computers) and how they work. ask older family members if or how they used them. go look at the different kinds of home computers of the era from companies like packard-bell and IBM. learn what a pentium III is/was, or what it means to be X86 compatible. look at the history of the CD-ROM, and how when it was invented, it could contain so much data that consumers had absolutely no idea what to do with them until people started putting video games on them. go watch cathode ray dude, LGR or techmoan on youtube.

go learn things about this era, it's good for you and you will have a lot of fun, even if you're not like me, i promise, and your fanfiction will be better for it. please learn about this era. take my hand. we can go to beautiful places together.

[melodraca]

tragedy strikes: post that makes an excellent point is worded in a way that gives you ulcers, 100 injured 50 dead

[exopelagic]

my players don’t know it yet but the adventure we’re doing rn is me being silly goofy bc they hadn’t made their characters in time for me to plan around them. now that I Know Things the game can really start

[clonewarsahsoka]

I'm slowly becoming interested in computer science >.<

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Not My Business

Danny Fenton develops a unique set of skills throughout his life. He knew how to disarm a bomb when he was seven, thanks to his Dad making minebombs in the front yard as a ghost defense. (They only covered humans in ecto-goo, but it was the same concept of not wanting to have it explode on him)

He knew how to fight with a bo-staff only because he had to fight off the meals his parents brought back to life with a broom. He knew how to balance a checkbook, file tax forms, and properly build credit by the time he was ten, thanks to the years his parents ran a business at the kitchen table.

His sister taught him how to charm rude customers with a smile, how to lie without flinching, and how to complete all his assignments on time, despite having only a few hours to do so. She spent a lot of time volunteering, often dragging him along, which allowed Danny to build up his resume with both soft and hard skills he likely would never have thought there was a name for.

Problem-solving, teamwork, communication, time management, adaptability, data analysis, cybersecurity, data entry, and copywriting were the skills that Jazz focused on the most. She all but beat them into his head.

Along with cooking, sewing, basic plumbing, basic mechanics, and budgeting. Jazz was the one who looked for practical abilities.

That left time for his mom and dad to teach him things like forging, combat training, reprogramming everyday objects into weaponry, defending his position before a board for grant money, turning everyday household liquids into knock-out gas, and how to talk his way out of traffic tickets.

Not to mention everything he learn as Phantom.

Danny knew how to verify jewels and gold due to the years spent in the ghost zone fighting off pirates and treasure hunters. Phantom's reputation made him a target for many ghosts who wanted to add his rarity to their collections.

How to command a room, then a town, and finally an army. Diplomatic missions increased in number as he began meeting with the leaders of various sectors within the Ghost Zones.

Really, Danny didn't make a whole lot of sense, if anyone bothered to ask him how he came to this set of skills. The thing was, unlike the rest of his family, Danny was far too reserved to show them off. He edged the line of shyness from a young age, which sometimes bled into reclusive tendencies.

He didn't get anxious from social interactions; he just didn't feel like seeking them out. Sam and Tucker felt a similar way, as they were always willing to talk to a stranger, but they tried to branch out of their safe little bubble to make friends rather than acquaintances. Then the summer between sophomore and junior year happened.

Sam, Danny, and Tucker left tenth grade as plain losers only to arrive in junior with a splash.

The trio noticed that people were staring at them more intensely than they had been before. That they were used to, what they weren't used to was that the stares were not mocking or dismissive.

It was odd, but it didn't click on why that was until winter break, and more specifically, Star's Holiday party.

Ever since the fourth grade, Star hosted the biggest party of their generation. Her parents owned the local fun center, which featured indoor kart racing, laser tag, arcade games, paintball, and virtual reality pods. Everyone tripped over themselves to be given an invitation as she offered a full day and night of free entertainment at the center.

It always ended with wild stories of teenage fun that Danny always wanted to see in person, rather than hearing about in the hallways the next day. Not that everyone in their grade went. The invitation list was super selective (Star's parents did lose a lot of profit for letting their daughter do that)

You either received an invitation from the party girl herself, or you were asked to be a plus one, which was just as much of an honor as it was a symbol of social status among the teenage population of Amity Park.

The trio was never invited, which is why they were already making their way to the student parking lot when Star stood in the courtyard, holding up the scarred envelopes. Inside them was the bracelet that one had to scan at the door of her center to let people in. It was how her father ensured only the agreed-upon guests stayed at that number.

In the middle of making plans for hot chocolate at Sam's favorite poetry slam cafe, Star had run at Tucker's car, practically falling over to knock on his window. Danny had never been so confused in his life as his friend rolled down his window to arch a brow at the girl.

She stuttered her way through a pathetic request for fashion advice that Tucker easily answered in two sentences. Sam snickered as Star seemed unsure what to do with Tucker's lack of interest in her or her popularity.

Ever since Tucker started focusing more on his self-confidence and joined the fashion community, he hadn't been so girl-crazy nor as desperate to get one's attention.

Just as Danny reminded Tucker that other cars were waiting for them to clear the road, Star had pushed three envelopes into the driver's hand and run off with a red face.

Tucker stared at the envelopes in his hands with a wild look that both Sam and Danny shared. They slowly kicked their brains back into gear when an angry honk from the car behind them sounded, and they ended up silently driving the cafe, still in a daze.

Jazz laughed herself silly when they rang her up to ask if she thought it was a trick (Sam was sure they were going to be Carrie-ed), a mistake (Danny insisted Star had gone to the wrong car, but due to the tinting, didn't realize until it was too late). Or a genuine invitation (Tcuker had always been the most optimistic of the three).

"Haven't you three ever wondered why Spectra used emotion-based ectoplasm for her appearance?" She giggled, "It makes people hot. And you guys literally spend all summer in the Ghost Zone during your internships, feeling human emotions while being exposed to natural ectoplasm. You three came back looking good."

That was a shock.

The summer apprenticeships had been a compromise between Sam and her parents. They were growing tired of her not growing out of her "phase" and were threatening to send her to a military camp to straighten her out.

Thankfully, Jazz had stepped in, brilliantly changing their minds into allowing the college student to match Sam up with a well-known friend as a mentor. She even threw Danny and Tucker into her "program" to further show that it was just what Sam needed to stop her from being a troubled teen.

Since only Maddie and Jack knew about Phantom, it took some effort among all of them to create fake websites and legitimate-looking summer programs before Sam, Tucker, and Danny arrived in the Ghost Zone in different vehicles to spend their summers. It helped that Ghostwriter owed them a favor, and he brought the programs to life.

Danny was learning medical practices of various species with Frostbite. Sam was with Princess Dorathea, learning how to govern and manage a large estate. Tucker had taken Wulf up on his offer to join him through the Ghost Zone's wildness, allowing Tucker to experience life off-screen and learn more about animals.

Jazz had said she placed them out of their comfort zones, but with trusted ghosts that could help them build well-rounded characters. At first, it wasn't for them, but the trio found themselves falling in love with their activities.

By the time they came back, they had many stories and exceptional skills to share with their parents. Sam's parents weren't happy she was still a goth, but they did appreciate her newfound determination to connect with them and her interest in running companies like the family business.

Tucker's parents were amazed by the muscles he gained and how he started to limit his screen time. He still loves his tech, but now he was branching out into fashion, helping out around the house, and appreciating animals and nature like never before.

Maddie and Jack watched as Danny grew more empathic while becoming more sure of what to do in stressful situations. Confidence that their son desperately needed had been gifted to him over the summer. He no longer lowered his eyes or slouched, even if his awkwardness lingered a bit.

That apparently made them hot? Yes, it did.

At Star's party, even though the three kept to themselves, laughing and hanging out as normal, people were constantly attempting to talk to them or simply flushing whenever they made eye contact. Danny, Sam, and Tucker all agreed that they no longer wanted to be popular.

They stay firmly behind unbreakable walls even as the party skyrocketed them to the same level of popularity as the A-listers (they refused to join the club). The three were more excited to return to their summer internships the following summer.

By the time graduation rolled around, Danny, Sam, and Tucker had been voted the most attractive and the most likely to succeed. They were a new type of untouchable royalty walking the halls of Casper High.

It came as no surprise that their resumes and internships got them offers from various colleges, not to mention their looks. Jazz, by that point, was still working on her degree at Gotham U, so the three chose to go there.

Danny was studying to become a doctor, Sam was in business, and Tucker chose computer sciences. They had moved into a house that Sam's parents bought for them, allowing Jazz to move out of the dorms into the spare room. Things were going great for a while, living in the big city and being adults on their own for the first time.

Then Danny applied for an internship at Martha Wayne Memorial Hospital in the administrative area- Sam convinced him it would be a good way to get a foot in the door when he applied to medical school. He needed someone to write him rec letters.- And one night, when he was working late on data entry, he happened to see Batman's maskless fall out of a portal produced by a trenchcoat man.

The trenchcoat man carried Batman to the abandoned operating room that had been left behind when they remodeled the place and converted it into offices, followed by the rest of the Bats. Their faces were covered entirely, but it did not hide their worry as they rushed to catch up with the pair.

A woman wearing scrubs pushed through the portal and the group of masked heroes, barking out orders to prepare the room.

There was a magic spell wrapped around the group that typically would have made them invisible, and erase their importance in the mind of whoever looked at them, as if they were from a forgotten dream. Still, Danny's ecto contamination made him immune to the spell, so he witnessed the whole thing.

Huh. Bruce Wayne was Batman. Neat.

Danny figured it wasn't his business and turned back to his two monitors to finish the Excel spreadsheet he was working on. He later left after saving his work, ignoring the fact that he now knew why the operating room had been left untouched, despite having all that technology on standby.

He would get home, mention it over a plate of reheated pizza, while Tucker would be working on an essay due at midnight. His best friend would shrug, claiming his own ectoplasim had made him immune to Poison Ivy's plants- they were shockingly similar to some of the plants Wulf and he encountered in the Ghost Zone- and had seen Red Robin's face after the man had been sprayed in the face and some of the powder lingered on his mask.

Apparently, Tucker's midnight essay writing had given him a familiar, dazed college look of exhaustion. Still, since he wasn't freaking out at the man eating plants, Red Robin had thought him too gone on whatever Posion Ivy how dosed the crowd of hostages with, to worry about his bare face. He had merely moved Tucker somewhere safe, stabbed him in the thigh with a needle, which had been rude according to Tucker, and run off to fight Ivy.

Red Robin was Tim Drake. Neat.

The two changed the subject to a TV show, but eventually Tucker had to focus on his essay, and they fell silent.

The following morning, Sam reported that she, too, had figured out a Gotham Hero's identity by accident. Her ectoplasim contamination had made her an attractive goth, who was approached by a blushing Damian Wayne to ask her to model her alternative style for his art club.

At the offer of a bit of pocket change, Sam had agreed to follow the art club president to a park where a group of teenagers were setting up canvases and easels. They asked her to sit on the park fountain for a few hours while they tried to capture her likeness in charcoal.

During the session, she noticed a change in Damian's movement as he grew more relaxed and his old habits began to shine through. Princess Dorathea had taught her the dangers of the court and how to notice little changes in body language that could keep her safe.

She thought it was odd that Damian moved like an assassin, reaching for a small knife in the same way he wielded his charcoal. It made sense later when she was rescued by Robin on her walk home from a would-be mugging and noticed the same little habits.

Robin was Damian Wayne. Neat.

If three of the many Bats were Waynes or connected to the famous family, it only logically makes sense that the rest were all Waynes too. Double neat.

The only one who was sincerely shocked by this reveal was Jazz, who had not even a hint of suspicion that Bruce Wayne was Batman.

"This is huge!" Jazz gasps, "Don't you guys realize how crazy this is!?"

"I mean, sure," Tucker slowly responded, sharing a confused glance with Sam and Danny. "But it's not really our business, is it? It's not like Danny is in the hero scene anymore."

"Well, yes but come on it's Batman!"

"I don't think Batman even cares about us, much less his Bruce persona. As someone from the bottom of the first class, trust me, the top of the first class doesn't even notice us taking up space. " Sam laughs, shaking her head. Danny hesitates to mention that Bruce Wayne has stopped by his office multiple times to bring coffee for all his coworkers, but figures the man must do that for all his employees.

Miles and miles away in Wayne Manor, Bruce narrows his eyes at the three screens displaying three newly graduated teens covered in paranormal residue. It's possible that they were all haunted and just didn't know it, which was a common thing, according to the Justice League Dark.

After some digging into their background, he found that companies, summer camps, and internships had all been fabricated by an incredible hacker who provided an oddly convincing cover-up for the various skills the trio possessed. Again, the Justice League Dark also stated that it was common, as that was a tactic the Otherworlders frequently used on humans to leech onto them.

Like a gas station in the middle of nowhere that was there and then it wasn't a few days later.

The three weren't experiencing any negative emotions, which meant whatever was haunting them would soon pass, and it wasn't necessary to intervene. Zatanna promised Bruce that everything was fine.

He had some doubts.

So far, the three have been doing everyday things that first-year college students typically do, and yet, Bruce's children have reported seeing the three often in their civilian lives.

Foley worked out at the same gym Dick did and was often at the ramen shop Jason just helped one of his friends open. Manson began spending time at Cass's favorite café and attended Duke's poetry nights as an observer. Fenton, the male one, was literally working a few floors below Tim.

A coincidence?

Or was it something nefarious at play?

Bruce decided to wait and see what happens.

[norristrii]

LOVING YOU THE LOUDEST (or the quietest).

IN WHICH… who’s the yapper and who’s the listener in your relationship.

featuring. Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Charles Leclerc & Lewis Hamilton.

warnings. established relationship, fluff, 1k words.

LANDO NORRIS: yapper! bf x yapper! gf

You and Lando are so loud—like, Zak can hear you two entering the paddock from inside the McLaren garage. There’s never a quiet moment; you’re always yelling, play fighting, making sure the whole world knows you’ve arrived. Whether it's racing each other to the hospitality suite or cracking jokes that only the two of you find funny, the energy is always off the charts.

The paddock has learned that silence, when it comes to you two, is a rare and deeply suspicious. If you ever stop yelling, teasing, or causing a general ruckus for more than a few minutes, panic spreads. Engineers glance at each other nervously. The media starts speculating. Mechanics whisper, “Something's off. They’re too quiet.”

You two are incapable of behaving normally. The moment your eyes meet, it’s instant mischief—grinning like you’re plotting something, pulling faces, throwing middle fingers at each other like it’s a competition. There’s never a dull moment.

And then there’s Lando, who has absolutely no volume control. One second, he’s shouting across the paddock, “THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!!” like he’s narrating a rom-com, making everyone turn their heads in confusion. The next, he’s randomly singing, mumbling nonsense, or repeating the same word over and over just because the silence between you two felt too unnatural.

There is no peace. There is no quiet. Just pure, uncontrollable chaos.

MAX VERSTAPPEN: yapper! gf x listener! bf

Max is an exceptional listener. No matter how much you talk, ramble, or go off on tangents, there’s never a moment where he makes you feel like it’s too much. He listens—fully present, fully engaged, as if every word genuinely matters to him.

But when it comes to racing, his team, his car, and strategy? That’s when the roles reverse. Suddenly, he’s the one talking nonstop—analyzing every detail, breaking down scenarios, venting frustrations, sharing insights that only someone who lives and breathes racing would notice. And sometimes, out of nowhere, he’ll drop some random fact, something entirely unrelated—just because he thought you’d find it interesting.

And then, there’s the real sign—the way he talks to you. It’s in the way his voice softens just slightly when he’s telling you something important, the way his tone shifts when the conversation is just between the two of you. It’s not loud, or dramatic—it’s quiet, effortless, genuine.

And the most telling part? He remembers everything. If someone casually asks, “Hey Max, what allergies does she have?” he answers immediately, without hesitation. Because he’s the kind of person who doesn’t just listen—he keeps everything, as if every detail about you is worth remembering.

OSCAR PIASTRI: yapper! gf x listener! bf

Oscar being the best listener? Obviously. It’s almost a personality trait at this point. He’s calm—sometimes too calm.

Like when you see a spider in the bathroom. You scream, panic, throw yourself into his arms like it’s a life-or-death situation. And him? Completely unfazed. Just a shrug, a sigh, and a casual walk toward the spider like it’s his daily routine. One swift motion, problem solved, no reaction. Meanwhile, you’re still recovering from the emotional rollercoaster.

But beyond the calm, beyond the spider-killing efficiency, there’s the real Oscar—the one who remembers everything. Your favorite color? Locked in. The exact way you like your coffee? Stored in the database. The specific meal you order at McDonald’s, every single time? He could recite it by heart.

And then, there’s racing—the one place where you’re the loudest voice in the room, the one he always hears. Your cheers cut through everything—through the noise, the crowd, the chaos—and he loves it. Loves how you talk his ear off about things, loves that you fill the silence in his head with you.

He might be quiet. He might not always say much. But if there’s one thing you can count on—he’s always listening.

CARLOS SAINZ: listener! gf x listener/yapper! bf

Carlos is the perfect balance—the rare type who can sit back and absorb everything or take charge of a conversation when needed. Some people are either talkers or listeners, stuck on one side of the spectrum. Not him. He can listen to you for hours, days even, never making you feel like you’re saying too much. He’s the kind of person who actually hears what you’re saying—not just nodding along, but really listening, remembering, understanding.

But flip the switch, and suddenly, he’s the yapper—especially when he’s passionate about something. He can break down races, debate strategies, or go on a tangent about a completely random topic, and you’d sit there listening just as easily. The flow of conversation with him never feels forced—it just happens naturally, like a perfect back-and-forth rhythm where neither of you ever feel the need to hold back.

And that’s the magic of Carlos Sainz. He listens when you need him to, and talks when it’s his turn—effortless, balanced, and always present.

CHARLES LECLERC: listener! gf x yapper! bf

Charles is such a yapper—but in the best way possible. He can jump from deep, philosophical conversations to completely random thoughts like, “Why is the sky blue instead of green?” And somehow, both feel equally important when he’s talking.

And the best part? You love listening to him. Whether he’s ranting about something serious, sharing his dreams, or just going off on one of his endless thought spirals, his energy makes every conversation captivating.

And then, there’s the fact that he talks about you—to Lewis, to the team, probably to anyone who will listen. Your date? He gives Lewis the full breakdown. Something funny you did? He’s sharing it like it’s the highlight of his week. He just loves talking about you, like every little thing is worth mentioning.

He’s the kind of person who could talk forever, and you’d never want him to stop.

LEWIS HAMILTON: listener! gf x yapper! bf

Lewis is one of those undercover yappers—people assume he’s more reserved, but once he gets going, he does not stop. He’s got opinions, insights, stories, and he’s not afraid to share them.

Silence? Not really his thing. He fills every gap with conversation—whether it’s about sports, fashion, music, racing, life, or even deep philosophical thoughts. He thrives on discussion, on exchanging ideas, on turning even the smallest detail into an interesting conversation.

And with you? Oh, he talks even more. He knows you’ll listen, knows he can tell you anything—whether it’s breaking down a race weekend, analyzing the latest streetwear trends, or just casually debating something completely random. He’s effortlessly engaging, effortlessly present, always keeping the conversation flowing.

So yes, Lewis is a yapper. Not the loudest in the room, not the most obvious—but the kind who, once he starts, pulls you into his world, word by word, thought by thought, until you never want him to stop.

© norristrii 2025

babsie radio ! My first fic that includes grid…quick headcanons as I’m trying to finish fuckboy! lando… I love doing these short headcanons, and there’s definitely coming in the futuree!! I’ll do separated masterlist for the grid<33

[queen-of-signs]

🌀6th Lord in Houses - Enemies, Health, Daily Life, and Inner Battles 🌀

Note: These are all my personal observations and patterns I've noticed over the years. Take what resonates with you more and leave the rest. Lemme know in the comments if it hits home!

There are general interpretations. The signs on the house can make things different. Look at your Vedic chart!

6th lord in 1st - You're used to being underestimated and so you overperform. Your daily life is in survival mode by default. You're always fixing things, not just your own, but others' messes too. You care too much, even for people who don’t deserve it. Can have a "resting face". Might run on caffeine. Migraines, weak immunity, nail biting, or neck pain can be seen here. Your worst enemy is...yourself.

6th lord in 2nd - Feeling of never having enough. Attract "users", not partners. Either a stingy or a spendthrift. No in-between. Throat surgery, in some cases. You pretend you don’t care about status, but lowkey feel like a failure when you’re not “ahead.” Jaw tension. Messy relationship with food. People either depend on you too much or disappear when you need support. Stays loyal to family members even though they're not good for you and just sucks it up. You give advice to people but might not follow it yourself. Dental issues, blood sugar irregularities, PCOS, metabolic disorders, food allergies, binge eating, or anorexia can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is comfort that becomes a cage.

6th lord in 3rd - You’ve had full-blown arguments in your head that never happened IRL. Enemies = frenemies. Especially the ones who “joke” too much. Arguments with your sibling, if you had one. Dehydration. Nervous disorders, in some cases. Might keep a journal or vent everything into a Notes app or to any unfortunate soul that happened to be there at the time. You might try to do 5 things at once and feel ashamed of not finishing any. People can gaslight you. You want to be heard but hate attention, like explain that lol. You might dream of moving away from your hometown, starting afresh, or ghosting your friendship(s) forever. ADHD, hand/wrist pain, insomnia, neck/shoulder pain from poor posture, or breathing issues can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is the loud voice that sounds like yours but isn’t.

6th lord in 4th - You grew up learning to stay quiet. Might even walk quietly. You might have had strict or helicopter parents, in some cases. Home isn't a safe place. You crave comfort but don’t know what it really feels like. Might say "sorry" a lot. Love feels like walking on eggshells, because that’s what it’s always been. You try to fix your family by being the “good one,” even when it’s killing you. You second-guess your feelings because they were dismissed growing up. Ulcers, gastritis, acid reflux, menstrual cramps, belly, asthma, and hormonal imbalances can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is emotional guilt disguised as family loyalty.

6th lord in 5th - You give your heart to people who treat you like a "score". Fun feels like something you have to “earn.” When you are happy, you just know that it's gonna be taken away from you soon, or you know that it's temporary. You lowkey want someone to fight for you, not with you. You learned early that attention had conditions. Be impressive, be useful, be entertaining, or be invisible. You fall in love with people who feel broken, because fixing them feels safer than being truly seen. Irregular periods, fertility concerns, hormonal swings, risk of heart palpitations or minor arrhythmias, bloating, or digestive issues can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is drama you confuse for passion.

6th lord in 6th - You don't avoid problems, you solve them in silence. You’re the person everyone depends on, but no one checks in with. OCD in some cases. You attract situations that test your patience, boundaries, and sanity daily. You hate asking people for help. You attract jealous coworkers, messy “friends,” and one-sided relationships. You might feel responsible for everything, even things that aren’t yours to carry. Long-term health conditions, autoimmune disorders, inflammatory disorders, constipation, lower back pain or knee pain can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is... the belief that struggle equals virtue.

6th lord in 7th - You are loyal to the wrong people or stay too long with the wrong partner. You attract partners with baggage, and they leave you carrying it. You're afraid that if you set boundaries, they'll leave. Your depression, anxiety, and health issues would skyrocket when you're in a bad relationship. Your BODY KNOWS! You might fix others' lives while yours fall apart. Enemies to lovers, and after the breakup, it's lovers to enemies. If things are calm, you assume something’s off. You sometimes end up in legal conflicts, debt, or moral dilemmas because of a partner's decisions. Skin issues like eczema, rashes, acne or UTI, yeast infections, food poisoning, nausea, blood pressure swings during fights, clinical depression after a breakup or a divorce from their loved one can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is... the person you love/trust the most.

6th lord in 8th - You’ve survived things you don’t talk about, and most people wouldn’t understand anyway. For example: emotional or sexual abuse, dangerous situations, a rare disease, or a complex surgery, etc. Your enemies don’t announce themselves, they hide in family, in lovers, in you. You're the black sheep, the scapegoat, or the cycle-breaker in your family. You learn through loss. Each time something is ripped from you, a new version of you is born. You’ve experienced spiritual or psychic awakenings that were triggered by crisis, not choice. Sex can terrify you, in some cases. Might completely refrain from doing so. PCOS, endometriosis, hormonal dysfunction, bowel issues, sleep issues, nightmares, sleep paralysis, pelvic pain, STDs can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is silence that hides the truth.

6th lord in 9th - You didn’t just lose faith. It got torn from your hands by people you trusted. Your mentors, gurus, or teachers might have disappointed you or could have been harsh, and it cut deeper than betrayal. You’ve questioned your entire worldview after one painful experience. You want to believe in justice, karma, truth…but the reality you’ve lived makes that hard. Travel may bring conflict regarding visa issues or financial setbacks. You might have been punished for asking too many questions. Racism, in some cases. Enemies can come in the form of know-it-alls, fake spiritual leaders, or moral superiority complexes. Liver/kidney issues, vitamin/ protein deficiency, nervous disorders, leg accidents/surgery, can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is blind faith in broken systems.

6th lord in 10th - Bosses either love your work ethic or exploit it. Usually both. You attract jealous coworkers, fake allies, and silent competition. Career setbacks feel personal. You hold everything together until one tiny thing breaks you. You're scared to be seen struggling, so you smile harder. You've had to work twice as hard to earn half the recognition. Can develop an "impostor syndrome" in some cases. Sleep deprivation, dark under eyes, headaches/ migraines, upper body weakness, high blood pressure can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is your boss/co-worker.

6th lord in 11th - You’ve felt loneliest while surrounded by people. You're everyone's emergency contact, but no one’s first thought when they’re celebrating. Your biggest haters sometimes came disguised as your biggest fans or supporters. You carry guilt for outgrowing people who aren’t growing with you. Collaborations often turn into one-sided labor for you. Allergies, autoimmune disorders, rare syndromes, weak eyesight, mental health issues can be seen here in some cases. Can attract clout-chasers, energy vampires disguised as friends in your circle. Your worst enemy is the friend who envies you but smiles anyway.

6th lord in 12th - You’re always tired, but you don’t even know why anymore. You wake up drained, go to sleep anxious, and live in a body that feels like it’s carrying something ancient. Your enemies don’t announce themselves, but they whisper, sabotage, and fade out. Sleep issues. You carry shame from things you didn’t choose, didn’t cause, but still feel responsible for. You escape when it gets too much through fantasy, oversleeping, alcohol/drugs, doomscrolling, or even disappearing from your own life. I mean, you’re so used to emotional isolation that real connection feels foreign. Hates loud noises and crowds. Can have psychic dreams that show you the truth about people who hide things from you. Sleep paralysis or nightmares, mysterious illness, poor gut health, hypersensitivity to medication, noise, light or psychological issues can be seen here in some cases. Your worst enemy is... the pain you won’t/can't name.

💌For readings, check out my pinned post for pricing! ✨💌🪐

[kousanosgf]

men, minors dni

councilor!sevika x assistant!reader headcanons

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ getting together　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

i have too many thoughts about miss councilor sevika (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)

◗ 　they get on each other's nervs at first. sevika is still too new for her position and the need to prove herself to the most of the council drives her insane, cause those fucks are hella dense. so she's constantly on the edge, trying to wiggle between mentally fighting for her people on the meetings and actually taking part in rebuilding of zaun. and sometimes (or a lot of times) sevika sees reader as just another nuisances and a person who's ready to judge her just because she's not from piltover

◗ 　reader on the other hand just can't comprehend sevika's nature. she was raised and worked for years in a more "higher context culture" if you can call it so, so she's shoked how straight to the point sevika is, often taking it as nothing but rudeness. reader also can't say much to sevika, since she can't make herself speak up, taught to be respecrful and obedient to her supiriors, leaving a lot of space to passive aggression

◗ 　 they're taking all the first places in the misunderstanding and miscommunication competition

◗ 　sevika hates how reader is set on the formal speech with her. "stop calling me councilor" "that's who you are" "yeah but you don't have to say it in every sentence, you sound like some wind-up toy" "okay, ma'am, I'll take you wish into account".

◗ 　she realises that reader calling her "ma'am" is worse but not for the same reasons

◗ 　 their relationship is very much about learning and understanding each other and those around you. mostly for reader, cause she was brought up with a mindset of zaunites being someone lesser. and even though she follows etiquette, trying to be polite and serve as a perfect assistant, cause her whole life she dreamed of working with someone who changes other people's lifes, or even being that person, she can be judgmental towards sevika, refusing to see her point of view properly

◗ 　 eventually they get closer and more comfortable with each other, which means reader drops her nice formal persona with her passive aggressiveness, and they actually menage to solve more problems while arguing and letting the steam out than just walking around on eggshells for days

◗ 　 that's when sevika starts fall for reader. it's like reader's mask slipped and she can finally see a real person and not a workaholic machine. she loves how both sassy and caring reader can be. their fights now end in laughter and omg they also can say sorry to each other

◗ 　 sevika insists on brining reader to any important event, where plus one is required. because reader helps her monitor her actions and gives helpful insides of other participants of course, not because she just wants to spend time with her, definitely not

◗ 　and reader is oblivious™. she's so happy, she finally doesn't hate her work and her and sevika can even be called friends, she doesn't notice any move sevika makes, simply thinking it's nothing but platonic gestures

◗ 　 eventually she snaps. "are you straight?" "what?" "i asked around, and people said you're into women. did they lie?" "n-no" "then what?" "what what?" "if it's just me you don't like you could've said so"

◗ 　 reader is of course shocked. she has to take couple of days off, embarrassed with how blind she was and to think the situation through

◗ 　 next time they meet reader refuses sevika, saying it's not right to have a romantic involvement with any colleague, especially not with your boss. sevika understands and agrees

◗ 　 well actually she doesn't. a compliment here, a touch there. sevika does nothing too provocative so reader can't say she's acting improper. but she's just playing a long game

◗ 　 and yes, it works. months of teasing ruins poor reader's morals. flustered and very much horny she tugs sevika into a kiss on just a normal tuesday in councilor's office

◗ they may or may not have sex right there they definitely do

—————————————————————————

kay, a bit messy. definitely gonna do part two or a full drubble with them later

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[reversedpineapple]

╭⊰ 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞: 𝐌𝐲𝐝𝐞𝐢 ⊱╮

❖◈ Yan!Mydei x Nameless!Reader ◈❖

TWs: Obsessive behavior, intentional/unintentional harming of the reader, paranoia, unhealthy relationship dynamic, possessive behavior, being powerless in a situation, unhealthy mental state

Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated. :D

ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬ Word count: 2.1k ٜ۪ꥇ໋۬

By continuing to read beyond this point, you have agreed to the trigger warnings and to be at least of the age of 18. The author does not hold any responsibility whatsoever for your actions.

Mydeimos is a case of desperate yearning and it shows

He claims he does not care from where you come, that he only cares to slay Nikador. That is true, at first. He has just too much to care about. There is that part of ascending the throne but also the emotional turmoil his fate stirs within him. He doesn’t show it but he is very uncertain about his future to the point most would just crawl under a blanket and start to cry.

Now, since you are a Nameless, you are most likely capable of fighting or in some other position which contributes to the success of the Trailblaze (and leaving planets alive. It is shown with dramatic music and camera angles but I would like to notice that the Trailblazer was more or less being thrown, catapulted and at some point yeeted to Cocolia). Perhaps you are the team strategist or the survival expert. In any case, you were vital to success and thus a useful tool to finally slay the mad Titan. Mydeimos is not in the best headspace when he meets you for the first time so don’t expect him to be open to forge new bonds.

As we also see during the Trailblaze mission, the man needs time to open up to new people. Mydei respects those who are capable of defending themselves, whether that through the use of a weapon or some other way. So when you help him retrieve the Coreflame from Nikador, expect his demeanour to lighten. Of course, the problem of Castrum Kremnos is solved which makes things a lot easier on his soul but also, you risked your life in battle for him. He may not be the one who carries the Coreflame but he feels just as responsible for your wounds as Phainon and Aglaea do. You are from the outside. You shouldn’t care that much and yet you do. Thus, his respect is earned.

In order for romantic feelings to develop you need to play some kind of role in his journey of accepting his fate. Maybe you are just someone whom he learns to trust; training with you or discussing strategies for the next move of the Chrysos Heirs. Anyway, you are there for him and the more time he spends with you, the more he will open up. Of course he won’t just tell you all his woes, the story about his past friends far away into the future, but he confides within you his worries of the future. He will never tell you upfront what he feels but rather asks for opinions. What do you think about the past kings of Kremnos or what would be the best way for his people for the future. You are an outsider, your opinion could be an insightful one.

Should you meet his questions with a cold shoulder, he will pull away immediately. Mydei portrays the image of the perfect warrior, ruthless and not afraid to lay down his life (not like couldn’t) but those questions are asked with him trusting you with the softer side of his soul. He is not in need of unnecessary judgement, especially since he asks you about such sensitive topics. However, if you take his questions seriously and don’t judge him about his insecurities, it’s really easy to see that he is not only asking you for your opinion, he will fall unexpectedly fast. It has been such a long time since he allowed himself to have such soft feelings so I highly doubt he would at first even realise it is romantic affection he feels for you. He will probably just assume that the warmth he feels when he is by your side is just the deep bond of trust between you two.

He won’t even realise that some of his actions would be considered as romantic. During an outing to the ruins of Januspolis he had noticed you shivering in the cool air. The next thing you know he has untied the sash of his chest and draped the fabric on you. You had to force the fabric back onto him when returning to Okhemia. Only the excuse of you already feeling warmer made him finally budge. He just does not understand why you wearing the color red, the color worn exclusively by the Kremonian royal family, would be seen as… “interesting” to say the least. He is just helping you to warm up. What is so weird about that? That doesn’t mean the public wouldn’t notice anything. It is obvious how much time the heir spends with you, always asking and caring for you. It takes Phainon walking up to his friend and asking how long the two of you have been courting for him to finally understand what he is feeling.

On the subject of courting, Amphoreus is very different to the outside world, developing alongside it yet also being very different so cultural differences are guaranteed. There is no casual dating, no casual meeting and with how intense the people of Castrum Kremnos can be, expect that to be cranked up by a thousand. Once Mydeimos finally is in the clear about his emotions, he will approach your companion from the Astral Express to ask for allowance to court you. Imagine the look the Trailblazer and Dan Heng, yes even Dan Heng, threw him when he asked him that question. Why would he ask them? You are your own person. The prince has no romantic experience, all he knows is from observing others so for the first step to fail is a hurdle to him he does not know how to overcome. He is a bit stuck in the ways of how things should be done. The best solution he comes up with is approaching you to ask for allowance to court you. He expresses himself a bit awkward, a bit too ashamed for his own comfort. On your side though, for all you know this is just the way of asking someone out in Amphoreus which, yes it is but also no.

You figure that out very soon when he immediately acts like the two of you have been in a relationship for years. He will not immediately start kissing you, slowly working his way there but with how much time he spends with you one could assume the two of you to be already married and he doesn’t just act like this in public. It’s even more intense when you two have the private luxury of his room. He will take off his gauntlets and hold your hands oh so gently, whispering words in his mother tongue against your scalp, your head tucked against his chest. He never tells you what he says to you and you don’t dare to ask the people of Kremnos, his words sounding far too intimate to share with the outside world.

Every meal the two of you eat together he will offer you his drink. The taste of mixed pomegranates, goats milk and cheese is certainly something to get used to and requires “an acquired taste” to say the least but for the love of him you just drink it. Should you not be able to drink dairy or have a first cutting out those foods, he will understand. Instead of the usual mix he will offer you ordinary pomegranate juice. He just wants to share something with you. On the subject of sharing, now that he sees you in a romantic light the act of sharing his read sash changes from an innocent act of caring to something very intimate. He won’t just drape it over you. By watching you he noticed that the outside world takes things a lot slower, dare he say more casual (by the love of the sky father, he hopes you don’t just see him as something to pass time). But should you ever take a look into his closet you will find pieces of cloth he has never worn just to realise that they are perfectly fitted to your body. Either you wait for him to approach you or just wear them. Mydei swears he didn’t choke on his own spit when he saw you walking in wearing the color of the royal family. To make something clear, he could not care any less that it is the color of a certain status, what he does care about is the fact that no other person dares to wear it other than himself. One day he might “accidentally” use part of your clothing as the fabric on his chest so you have to use the one he usually wears. My goodness, what a scandal, he did not do that with intent. Mhm surely.

All is fine and dandy until he reaches a certain tipping point. There is no need for a certain event to occur. Mydeimos is haunted by the memories of his old friends and what if you were to end up like that as well? Madness runs in the Kremonian blood, their king and Titan both succumbed to it. There is a part in Mydei that is carefully kept under lock and key, not only by his fear of turning out like that but also his awareness of there being the possibility of exactly that happening. Which means he wouldn’t act on certain impulses but with time a false security slowly settled upon your relationship, lulling him into a traitorous safety. It will start out as a small thing, just a vendor being a bit too friendly with you. He won’t do anything to them but the grip on your arm as he pulled you away was a bit too tight. After seeing the bruise blooming across your skin he will apologise, saying he didn’t know what came over him. And he really means it, he never hurt you again after that but a line was crossed.

Mydei does whatever needs to be done to win battles. Yes, he is the one destined to take on strife but he is able to think rationally. One does not only win by swinging their fist but knowing how, when and where to strike. If you got hurt during a fight, he would swiftly deal with them, taking care of you until you were capable of continuing but suddenly there was this fury within him. What were once necessary actions to survive turned into him pummelling the enemy into the floor until they were a puddle of gore and the longer this goes on, the worse it gets. It was already frightening enough when he started to turn them to mush but lately he started to target spots on his enemies that would hurt but not end them. It is no longer rare to see them laying groaning on the floor when the man finally lays them to eternal sleep. Mydeimos eyes have changed, the orange that once reminded you of a warm sunset had turned into a hot blaze, endangered of being swallowed by the flames. His gaze is no longer lingering on your person out of silent adoration, now staring without a gleam of life at you, imagining all the ways you could be ripped from his side. His grip has become a bit too tight for your liking the last few days once more.

But he can still be fixed, right? At this point you will know everything about him; the circumstances under which his mother and his friends died no longer a mystery to you. So how could you leave him when he holds you so close during his sleep? When his grip tightens to the point of it almost hurting when you want to get up? At some point, he will dislike the idea of you leaving his side. He was always someone who stood close to the ones he cherished but at some point it became unbearable. He will allow you to get out, but please be careful when conversing with others. Mydei would never hurt his own or the people of Okhemia, doesn’t mean it would subconsciously influence the way he would react when seeing them getting into trouble during a battle. He won’t even notice his bias, the slight hesitation, him barely being too slow to save them. Without noticing it, everyone is suddenly plotting to end your life. The small Kremonian girl gifting him a small cake as thanks for always protecting everyone is suddenly a ploy to poison the two of you, the sword gifted to you intentionally poorly forged so you would get harmed in battle.

So when the time comes and he ascends to the title of a demigod, he will ask you to leave the Trailblaze. Please, stay with him, let him protect you, follow him to Castrum Kremnos so he can always look after you. He is way too paranoid to leave you behind. Mydei words it like a plea but you know that you never had a choice. If you were to choose to continue your journey, to leave him behind, you would doom Amphoreus to a new Nikador. So you stay, trapped in an invisible cage made out of his love, protecting the planet from a demigod who long fell into madness.

Do not copy, translate or use my work without my permission. All rights belong to the author.

[sugarhog05]

Eclipse always assumed Moons love for sword fighting was him wanting to become a knight. And maybe there was a part of Moon that did, but Moon knew he could never actually could become one. Him being royalty made it impossible. Eclipse tried to help Moon… in his own way. He figured that Moon would eventually give up on this unachievable dream if Moon never actually got better at sword fighting. So, he has his guard who are supposed to train Moon keep him at a certain level. Moon doesn’t get any better, and it starts to wear on his self-esteem. He gets fed up with his lack of progress, and goes to the newly hired bodyguard for help. They agree, seeing themself in Moon and his passion for sword fighting.

Moon gets his ass kicked, for a lack of better phrasing. But he finally learns something new, and he’s over the moon about it. (Pun intended lol) He talks to his brothers about it, and unknowingly decides for Eclipse that this childish dream must come to an end. Eclipse talks to the swordsman, realizes that Moon just likes sword fighting, and that you pointing a sword at his neck isn’t something he minds as much as he probably should. He leaves having solved one problem, and gained an entirely new one. A confusing, terrifying, and inconvenient one at that.

Sun and Y/N are having a great time meanwhile Eclipse and Moon are individually having a crisis :)

[shrimpybbq]

season 1 rafe with his gf & son

i have to be sooo truthful here in that rafe is like 90% the actual worst during the events of season 1 to high school gf!

he's still doing drugs and going to parties, never coming home until the early morning if at all

maybe he was on better terms with his gf for a while, but everyone on the island knows that the pair are always on-and-off

when they are good, rafe is surprisingly sweet to her. he's always opening doors and looking after their son so she can rest. rafe is so much more physically affectionate too during these times, with his hands always on her, stroking her hip or playing with her hair

and then when they fight, it's like all that goes away and he's back to ignoring her

she lives in the main house now as that's where their son's nursery is, but most of the time she's sleeping in the guest room after they argue

rafe's idea of family bonding is going to the country club, drinking his expensive whiskey and eating overpriced food. he likes seeing his son look around wide-eyed at the new sights and new people, and he enjoys having his son sit in his lap while he drinks, mumbling nonsense to see his little smile

he tries to take his son out golfing once only to realise that he couldn't be away from his mother for so long, much to his annoyance. it's fine though bc he's insisting they all go together next time - problem solved in his mind

rafe and high school gf! go to midsummer's together as each others dates. rafe wouldn't have let her go with anyone else anyway, but he likes the display of having her on his arm. he matches his suit to the floral design of her gown to make the statement even clearer (they have a child together and he's worried about people knowing she's his???)

he manages to hide a lot of the events that go on from his gf, but some of them still reach her ears courtesy of sarah, and he can't stand the disappointed look she gives him. sometimes though, he makes her sit down and listen to his explanation, trying to get her to see his side. he's so relieved when she nods and no longer looks at him in that way (but she still doesn't tell him he was right, he always notes)

when barry burns rafe, he's knocking on the door of the guest room with tears in his eyes, clutching his badly burnt arm to his chest. gf just looks at him wide-eyed, telling him to sit on her bed while she grabs the first aid kit. rafe can't help but let the tears stream down his face as she cleans, his head coming to rest on her shoulder as he sobs. that night is the first time he sleeps with her in the guest room, his head nuzzled into her chest as she cradles him

ok but if barry ever threatens his girl and kid rafe won't let it go. he's landing a punch on the drug dealer's face immediately, his rage spiking instantaneously. barry learns not to threaten them again after the second time he wore purple bruises on his chin

oh, sweet pretty gf has no idea what rafe has done to the sheriff, and he plans to keep it that way. he wanted to protect his dad, but he absolutely refuses to let anything happen to his own family. she's so shocked when he tells her of john b's actions, the boy having lived down the hall from them, and rafe plays into the role of protector again. he's got her in his arms as she cries about how he was around their son, and rafe just hums and tells her "i would never let someone hurt either of you, you know that right?". it warms his heart to see her nod into his chest.

sometimes his gf walks into the nursery only to see her son not in his crib, but she knows exactly where he is. pushing open rafe's door she sees the two of them in bed, her sweet baby cuddled up on rafe's bare chest as they both sleep. he needs to be with his son when he has a bad day, which seems to be more often than not nowadays

rafe is rapidly growing more mentally unwell and the only thing that seems to soothe him is his gf and son, and he spends as much time as he can with them. the little baby is always in his arms as he coos down at him, watching his kid's eyes brighten at the sight of his dada. rafe reasons with himself that everything he does is to protect his family and that he couldn't be wrong then, could he?

Click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son

Click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son

Click here for the 18 month gap before season 4 rafe, gf & their son

Oh this was a bit of a novel, but rafe truly has so many facets to explore, let alone once you give him a big motivator like a kid!