#they’re all kiddos now

[halfhissandwich]

Sanders Sides, but the sides are CHILDREN???

[gen4grl]

dad red! 🍎🍊

[cashweasel]

Some very late Halloween doodles ft besties @sysba and @night-triumphantt ocs because they are KILLING me and I had to share

Galael is being harassed and syfyn is a seagull but it’s ok because their bfs are having the time of their lives serving cunt as sexy lifeguards how can you be mad at that?? (I’m looking at u especially swim rescue galael)

Daemon and karima as jasper and alice HDJSKSKDHD they have my whole heart I just can’t get over daemon’s wig and karima serving teenage boy

Zuko and katara will never beat the kiyazan allegations and if they had a halloween contest they’d win best dressed 🤝

[skinreflectsthesun]

.

[polinscarriage]

missing home heavy for the first time since i left

[leviiackrman]

Of my 29 OCs… I have 1 left to draw…

[cheridraws]

See the thing abt me is that I will always have cowboys on the brain. There is never a moment that goes by that I’m not thinking about cowboys

[deadsetobsessions]

“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.

“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”

“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”

Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.

“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”

Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.

“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”

“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”

Danny paused. God dammit.

“…Fine.”

“YESSSSSS!!!!”

——

Danny-

“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

-is so damn tired.

“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”

Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”

Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”

“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.

Danny chimed in.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”

Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”

Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.

“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”

“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”

Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”

They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.

But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.

“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.

Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”

“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”

“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.

“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.

“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”

“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”

"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.

"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."

"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.

"Should we be encouraging that?"

"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.

"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."

"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.

"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"

Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.

“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”

Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”

“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”

“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”

“Sure.”

Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.

“No. Bad Tim.”

“Awww, come on Danny!”

[strang3lov3]

Play Stupid Games

Summary - Who woulda thought you could make Joel come by playing with his nipples? NOT ME!! (3.6k words)

Tags - implied age gap as Joel calls reader kiddo, Joel Miller Nipple Worship, almost sub!joel, for like 8 seconds max, sub to softdom!joel, unprotected Piv, nipple orgasm, premature ejaculation, come eating, thigh riding, fingering, Joel talks you through it. A/N - this ended up being something between a drabble and a fic. I don’t know what this is. God spoke to me and I listened.

Thank you thank you thank you @noxturnalpascal for cleaning this mess up, thank you @beefrobeefcal @tightjeansjavi and @joelsgreys for the encouragement I needed to finish this!

Joel’s sheets are scratchy yet soft, his walls are illuminated by the flickering light of his burning candles. Joel’s naked under his blankets, your naked body tangled up with his. Your head rests on his chest and you draw lazy patterns with your fingers on his soft, pillowy tummy as Joel reads Stephen King’s The Shining to you, turning the pages when he asks you to. This is your evening routine with him, and you’ll never tire of it. Sex first, then a shared shower, where Joel washes your hair and you wash his. He dries you off, then you go back to bed to snuggle and read a book together. You giggle at the way he always wears his glasses too far down his nose, and he lightly drags his nails along your scalp. His clean and masculine scent takes over your senses and that low, gravelly tone of his voice as he reads aloud to you usually puts you to sleep in no more than twenty minutes. 

“Turn the page for me, hon,” Joel asks.

You’re not so tired tonight. You’re watching Joel’s chest rise and fall, lost in your own world and not really paying attention to his reading. Instead, you’re watching his skin erupt in goosebumps as you trace his chest, toying with his sparse chest hair, lightly teasing his nipples, they’re a dark sort of mauve-brown color. Joel’s breath hitches as they pebble beneath your touch. 

He bounces his book lightly on the crown of your head. “You with me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, “Of course.”

“Mm,” Joel mumbles, not convinced. And he’s right to not believe you. You’re grinding against his thigh subtly, but not subtle enough for Joel to not notice. He smirks as you reach between his thighs, first cupping his balls and then playing with his cock, feeling him begin to thicken in your palm. “Ohh,” Joel grins, “That’s why you’re not listening.”

“I’m listening,” you reply, stroking his cock. It’s always such a satisfying feeling, running your thumb along the thickness of his head, feeling him twitch and grow harder. 

“Are ya? What’s happening right now?”

“Wendy…”

“Wrong,” he interrupts, “Try again.”

“Jack–”

“Danny,” Joel corrects, “What’s Danny doin’?” You don’t know the answer to that question, of course you don’t. Because you’re too distracted by what’s happening in your hand. “Exactly,” Joel says. He sets his book down on his stomach, the pages split to mark his place. He reaches under the covers and wraps his hand around your wrist, halting your movements. “You wore me out tonight, kiddo. I don’t have it in me to go again.”

It’s true, you did wear Joel out. It had been a few days since you’d last had him, and you were missing him dearly. Joel was gone all day, and you’d watched all three Indiana Jones movies, which didn’t help your case in the least. Fuck it, you might even be ovulating. You’re not exactly keeping track. Whoops.

You practically tackled him when he walked through the door. Dinner was made and the table set, but it remained untouched as you let Joel know just how much you missed him. Scrambling to unbuckle his belt, you walked him backwards until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he sat down. You wasted no time shimmying off your pants and pulling his own halfway down his thighs. He guided you to straddle his lap, his already rock-hard cock held loosely between his fingers.

Usually he’ll tease you a bit, make you beg and ache and cry for it as he drags his tip through your folds, toy with your clit for a moment before notching himself at your entrance. Today, upon realizing the severity of your need for him, he pulled your hips down on his cock, burying himself in you entirely. He let you adjust to him, feel the stretch and the ache of him inside you. No fingers to warm you up, no tongue, he simply gave all of himself to you. 

Once adjusted, he began to roll his hips, grunting in your ear as you moaned sweetly in his own. That patch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit, how his thick cock hit all of your sweetest spots with each of his deep, sloppy, and quick thrusts. He was relentless, just how you needed him. As he fucked you, he slid his hands up the softness of your tummy and your rib cage, then cupped your breasts, flicking and twisting your nipples with his fingertips. 

Per your wishes, Joel had brought you to the edge and pushed you over it multiple times by the time it was all said and done. You came on his cock once and begged him to let you come once more, and then one more time after that before he finally let himself go. By the time you’d finished, the sun had gone down and dinner had gottencold. It could’ve been hours, and Joel was spent. He could hardly keep his eyes open in the shower, swaying back and forth as he flirted with the idea of falling asleep under the warm water running down his shoulders. 

-

“I’ll do all the work, Joel,” you offer as you squeeze his cock. “I just need you for a second.” 

“Charming. You lied to me twice just now,” Joel smirks, turning his head to look down at where your head rests on his shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

“No, of course not.”

“Oh, sure. You just need me for a second, huh? Can I time it?” You bite your cheek to hide your sheepish smile. You see his point, but you weren’t lying, just slightly misrepresenting the truth. “Yeah, and you know what else is a load of bullshit? I’ll do all the work, Joel,” he mocks, putting on his best girl voice and batting his eyelashes. 

You’re definitely not lying about that, though. “It’s true,” you argue, “I’ll–”

“Yeah, right. You ain’t done a lick of hard work in your life. You got me in the palm of your hand and you don’t gotta lift a damn finger to get what you want. Do you?”

You’re not answering that. Instead, holding up your pinkie finger, you swear to Joel, “I promise, I’ll do it all.”

Joel eyes you suspiciously before holding up his pinkie finger as well. You link fingers, kiss your thumb as he kisses his own, then smush them together. “S’a deal now, my darlin’.”

Joel first takes off his glasses, then dog-ears the page of his book to mark his place in the story before he sets both down on his nightstand. He raises his hands in the air as if he’s surrendering to you. You pull down the blankets and straddle him, your already wet pussy grinding against his now fully-hardened cock. You smile mischievously, biting your bottom lip as you pin his wrists to the bed on either side of his head. “Goddamn,” he drawls, “Am I nothin’ but a piece of meat to ya?”

“Mhm,” you reply, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

Joel smiles against your lips, “Alright, sweet girl. Show me what you got,” he mumbles. You pull back and Joel waits patiently, his wrists still pinned under your palm as you decide what you’re gonna do to him. You start first by grinding yourself against his member, garnering an amused smile from him as his tip catches against your clit and you moan. “Very nice,” he praises, “Gimme some more.”

Still grinding on his cock, you kiss his lips again, then down his jaw, down his neck, biting and sucking as you do so. “No marks,” he warns, squeezing your ass. 

“I know, Joel,” you whisper, continuing your trail of kisses down his chest, down his tummy and back up again. You line yourself up with his cock and sink down on him, experimentally licking a nipple at the same time. Joel shivers. You do it again, this time gently teasing his other nipple with your fingers. 

“What are you doin’, kiddo,” Joel murmurs quietly. 

“Nothing, Joel.”

“I think you’re lyin’ again. Think you’re causin’ trouble.”

“I’m taking care of you.”

“I don’t, fuck, I don’t know–” you hum against him, sending vibrations through his skin. You’re grinding on him as you do so, rubbing your clit against that patch of hair at the base of his cock, taking in all of him - the feeling of him inside you, how you’re pulsing around him. His smell, his warm and thick body underneath yours. He’s breathing heavily, little whimpers escaping his mouth as he squeezes your ass and your sides, his fingertips digging into your skin so hard it hurts. He seems almost desperate. 

“Don’t know what, Joel?”

“I don’t - fuck, ohh god, please, please–” Holy fuck, he’s begging, and you didn’t even know he could do that. You’re not sure what he’s begging for - more, less, go, stop. “Why’re you teasin’ me like this, sweetheart, why’re–”

“I’m not doing anything, Joel,” you smile against his skin. You’re trying it all out now, with one of his nipples you’re using your fingers to twist and tease him, feeling him jolt and tremble with your touch. With your mouth, you’re using your tongue - tracing the outline of his areola, swirling your tongue in a spiral to reach his sensitive bud. And then you switch, using your tongue on the nipple previously occupied by your teasing fingertips. 

“Bullshit. You’re—fuuuuuck,” Joel lets out a long groan, his cock twitching inside of you as he squirms underneath you. “I can feel you smirkin’.You’re testin’ my patience. You need, I need, Christ–you’re startin’ something you’re not gonna like finishing.”

He’s warning you that this might be a mistake, but this only fuels your fire. It’s always you who’s squirming and crying and whimpering, begging for god knows what as Joel grins above you, torturing your clit and promising you that it’ll all be okay, that you’re not gonna break. 

You’ve got him reduced to a mess, he’s moaning and whimpering, breathing heavily with his eyes squeezed shut, his brows knit together. You can feel in his touch that he’s conflicted, squeezing you tighter yet itching to push you away. His skin is tingling, his balls tightening as you clench around him, still grinding yourself ever so slightly on his pelvis. You’re making a sloppy mess of his chest with your mouth, all spit covered as you circle his nipples with the tip of your tongue, rolling the bud gently and carefully between your teeth. It’s torturously pleasurable when you begin to suck and nip at his nipples and Joel thinks he’s gonna–

“Fuck, Christ, oh my god, oh my god, mmm-ohhhh.”

He’s spilling into you, surprising both you and himself. He comes loudly and desperately, all needy whimpers and cries as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his warm, sticky spend. Grabbing you and holding you tight, his grip easing as his breaths begin to even and he eventually goes still. You rest on his chest, feeling him leak out of you. When you finally sit up to admire your work, Joel’s got his eyes closed, his cheeks are rosy. A few tears running down his face and when you wipe them away, he opens his eyes. 

“You look proud of yourself,” he tells you. His tone is pointed yet quiet, like he’s bashful. “Learned a new trick, huh.” 

“I did,” you smile. He’s gone soft inside of you and you get up off of him, but Joel pulls you back down. “Nuh-uh. Where do you think you’re going?”

“Just to the–”

“Sit back down. I ain’t finished with you,” Here it comes. You anticipated Joel getting revenge in some way or another, but you’re not sure how he plans to. Maybe he’ll lay you on your back, lick you until you cry the way you did to him. He might bring you to the edge over and over and over again, yet never push you past it. Or he’ll make you come until your legs twitch and shake uncontrollably, and you’re a sweaty, sobbing mess of overstimulation. He’s done it all before and you know he’s not opposed to doing it again. “You’re gonna hold up your end of the bargain. Do some hard work for once in your life.”

You begin to protest, “I already did.” 

“That don’t count. You cheated and found a loophole. You wanted me, so you’re gonna have me,” You’re not sure what he means or what he wants from you. You thought you did already have him. “Get on your knees, kiddo,” Joel says, slapping his bare thigh. When you pause, Joel nudges you and guides you to straddle his thigh. “Like this,” he says. 

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” Joel drawls, “I gave you a hint already.”

He’s placed you on his thigh. He says you wanted him, so you’re gonna have him. But you’ve made him come already, so that means–

“I can’t do that.”

“You started this, you’re comin’ one way or another,” he says. “You’re not getting up until you do it. You’d best get to it.”

His tone is serious, but you’re sure this has to be some sort of game. He watches you, how you furrow your brows in confusion. Joel sits up and adjusts a few pillows behind himself, spreads his legs further apart and holds your ass cheeks in his big, strong hands. “Rock your hips f’me.”

Slowly, you rock your hips on his thigh. You can’t feel much except for the mess you’re making on his leg, your arousal and his spend. It’s all awkward - the clunky and graceless rolling of your hips, the quietness in the room as Joel watches you intently. You shift your thighs, holding on to one of Joel’s hips and one of his shoulders as you rock your hips, trying to feel anything at all. You do - just for a second, maybe. “Keep goin’,” he tells you while drawing lazy patterns on your thigh, but you’re not sure that you can keep going. The expectant look on Joel’s face has you feeling uncomfortable. Not the bad kind of we need to stop this now uncomfortable, but just sort of puzzled. Joel could have tortured you with his teasing and he probably would have gotten a better result. He seems to know this, so he begins to guide your hips again. You’re not sure how he does it, but he finds the perfect angle and he knows this when you moan for him, squeezing his shoulders tight. “Like that,” he instructs. 

You do your best to mimic the action, but it’s just not happening. He must’ve been flexing his thigh, or the way he moved your hips is a way that you can’t replicate without help for some reason. Frustrated, you slump down onto his chest. “I can’t do it.”

“You’re gonna have to,” Joel coos. 

You shake your head, “No, no. I want–just fuck me. I want you inside me, I can’t come without you inside me.”

“Yeah, I know you want me inside ya. Can’t do nothin’ about that on account of what you did to me, now can I?”

You whine and groan in irritation. “Then I need you to do the w–” you press your lips in a thin line. Oops. 

“Work,” Joel adds for you, finishing your sentence. “S’that what I’m hearin’? You need me to do the work?” You nod your head, it’s worth a shot. Maybe. “Not gonna happen, hon. We shook on it.” You pout, whining and groaning again. Joel strokes the skin of your back, “Oh, I know, I know,” he coos, feigning sympathy. “Let this be a lesson to ya then, kiddo. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”

“Joel,” you protest.

“Joel,” he mocks. “Come on, get up. Get to work.” Joel pushes you back, forcing you to sit back up on his thigh. Generously, he helps you find that movement once more. Where your hips tilt at just the right angle and you can feel the pressure of his thick thigh against your clit. “Right there,” you gasp, holding his hand on your hip. “Nuh-uh,” Joel shakes his head and pulls his arms back, crossing them on his tummy. 

It’s okay. You’re gonna figure this out. You brace yourself on Joel’s shoulders as you search for that sweet spot on your own. Within a couple of minutes, you think you find it. You’re alternating between feeling good, better, worse, then to worse, good, and better. At moments it’s great, and then it just…disappears. And at this point, you’re exhausted. It’s been god knows how long since you even found yourself on Joel’s lap in the first place. You groan, resigning yourself to defeat. You’re about to get off of Joel’s thigh when he grabs your bicep. “Aw, come on kiddo. You givin’ up that easy?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, your tone saying all that you’re feeling. Dejection, frustration, disappointment. 

Joel shakes his head, “M’not lettin’ ya.”

“Joel–”

“Deep breath in and out for me,” he instructs, and you roll your eyes. He repeats himself, “Deep breath. In. And. Out. Do it now.” And so, not wanting to make this any worse for yourself and just wanting to get it over and done with, you close your eyes. You breathe in deeply, letting your tummy expand with his instruction, then exhale your breath fully. “You need to settle down,” he says as you continue your breaths. “S’it. Nice an’ slow.” 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “It’s just hard.”

“Know it’s hard. What’d we talk about though, hm? Hard work, right?” you nod your head, “Yeah,” Joel says, “I know. You’re gonna work for it, sweet girl. I’ve been spoilin’ ya.” A few more deep breaths, and Joel speaks again, “M’not gonna do it for you, but I’ll walk you through it if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you beg, your eyes flying open. “Please. Help me.”

“Least you’ve still got your manners,” Joel smiles. He reaches for your knees then, spreading them wide. “Tilt your hips forward, sweetheart, and rock ‘em on me,” he tells you. “What feels good? Back and forth, left and right?”

“Back and forth.” 

“Then do it.”

 And so you do it, just like you’ve been doing this whole goddamn time. Joel watches in your face that you’re not quite there yet, but he encourages you anyway. “That’s it, you’re gettin’ it. Tilt down a bit.”

You’re rocking your hips on his thigh, grinding against him, and with his advice it finally, finally feels good. “Fuck,” you moan. 

“Again,” he instructs, “Keep goin’.”

You grind on him, this time with more intent. Faster and harder, having found that sweet feeling that’s beginning to build in the pit of your stomach, you savor it.

“Good girl,” Joel praises. And then as if to reward you for your hard work, Joel reaches between your thighs and finds your clit with his middle and ring fingers, giving you something extra to enjoy. He’s circling your clit as you move your hips, and when that feeling in your stomach begins to build, you ride him  more intensely, chasing after that high you so desperately need, that you’ve worked so hard for. 

“Need it–need you, Joel, don’t stop, don’t–”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take your time, kiddo, I’m right here.” 

“You’re here,” you nod, your brows furrowed together and you’re almost unable to speak, too focused on the prospect of release. 

Your velvety folds soaked in Joel’s come and your own arousal. “I’m– fuck, Joel, I’m close,” you moan.

“I know you are, keep goin’,” Joel coos, “You’re right there, just let it happen. Gimme a good one, sweetheart,” You feel your orgasm building to a new edge when you hear him say, “Come for me.”

All it takes is that one command, laced with Joel’s encouragement, and you’re sent tumbling over the edge. Your long-awaited orgasm begins at your core and travels through you, washing over you with pulsing waves of pleasure. “Joel,” you moan breathless and needy, writhing on top of him. You feel it everywhere, in your spine and down your thighs. Your clit twitching, your walls pulsing around nothing as you ride him.

“That’s it, kiddo, there it is. Good girl,” Joel coos. “Did so good.” 

With a soft moan, you fall limp next to Joel, steadying your breath.  

A moment passes. “Finish the job,” he whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

 “You made your mess on me, so you’re gonna clean it up. Part of the deal, sweetheart,” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on his thigh, then swipes his middle two fingers through the mess and pushes it between your lips, “You know what to do. Lick it up,” he instructs. 

It’s not lost on him, the hypocrisy of having you clean up a mess that he had you make. But like he asked, you do it. You’ll do it every time he asks. He holds your hair back as you lick the mess from his thigh, savoring that slightly salty, masculine flavor he knows you love. “Such a good girl. You ready to go to sleep?”

“No,” you yawn, and Joel puts on his glasses again, opens the book back up and reads you the story. You’re sleeping on his chest in minutes. 

If you enjoyed, please please please reblog, leave me a comment, or send me an ask. Your words go a long way and keep me motivated to write 🩷

Forgot to add cat pics!!! I add these at the end of my fics now

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown part 2 I guess

shoutout to @that-random-fangirl

Masterpost

The batmobile pulls into the batcave as usual once they’re done dealing with the Joker’s hostage situation, but no one is celebrating at a job well done tonight. Because while the Joker is back in Arkham, for now, it wasn’t one of them that stopped him. While the rest of them dealt with the goons downstairs, Batman went up to where the Joker was supposed to be hiding out with the kids, only to find him on the floor with a growing bruise on his face. The kids were nowhere to be seen. 

So, Batman sweeped the room, making note of a video that was still recording on the computer. Probably a taunt for him that the Joker never got to release. He pulled all the files from the computer and brought them with him when he left. 

The police arrived, the civilians were taken care of, but none of them had any idea what happened in the room the Joker was in. Apparently none of them heard anything, despite the fact the Joker had a gun with him no shots were fired. And none of them knew what happened to the kids. 

So the family gathered around the batcomputer to try and find out what had happened. They rewound the video back to the beginning, hoping to at least find out if the kids were okay.

The video opened to the Joker being his usual self, holding his gun, looking like he hadn’t yet gotten punched in the face.

“ Bats! Wonderful to see me isn’t it? I know it's been too long, and I’ve got some presents for you!” Joker turns the camera to show three kids, two no older than six, both blonde and terrified, and one that could be a teenager, probably around twelve to thirteen with black hair and looking bored. The camera swings back to the Joker after a moment. “ Of course, I have a bunch of adults too, but these little kiddos are just for you! I have such plans for them bats!” 

“Hey, crazy clown?” They hear, coming from one of the children. Joker stops ranting to look past the computer, probably at the kid who’s speaking and the bats all look at each other in disbelief.“ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” 

“ Oh, this kid is insane.” Tim mutters.

“ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The Joker starts laughing, he bends over and wraps his arms around his stomach laughing his normal cackle that has most of the room cringing. They watch as the child, the older one, walks right up to the Joker, who is still laughing, and punches him in the face.

They watch in silence as the Joker falls limp to the floor. Jason whistles. Then the boy turns more toward the camera, but really towards the children as he starts talking to them and they see him fully for the first time. Black hair, blue eyes, looks exhausted and he just punched the Joker in the face. The kids look amongst each other for a moment, all thinking the same thing, before turning back to the screen to see the boy, this tiny boy who called the Joker ‘crazy clown’ and punched him in the face helping the other kids escape out the window. 

“ Bruce, no.” Dick mutters. “ We don’t even know who this kid is.”

“ This kid just knocked out the Joker in one punch, if Bruce doesn’t nab him, I will.” Jason states.

Everything devolves into arguing from there, all the kids shouting amongst themselves arguing either for or against the adoption of the kid. It goes on for a while before Bruce speaks up.

“ Let’s just find the kid first.” Bruce says, He’s already pulled up facial recognition and is chatting with Oracle about the CCTV footage by the warehouse. “ All of you go get some rest, I’m going to go see if I can track him.”

“ Hey! If you’re going back out, we’re going back out!” Dick complains. “ We’re concerned about the kid too.” 

Bruce starts to argue with him, but is cut off by the sound of motorcycles as Jason and Tim start to head back out, already talking to Oracle about where to start. Dick heads out after them and Damian goes to sit in the batmobile, waiting. Bruce heaves a sigh before climbing in after him.

“ Okay, Oracle what do we have?” Batman asks.

“ I was able to track him into an alley, but nothing after that.”

Now with part 3!

[jasmines-library]

Hey! i just wanted to say that your work is phenomenal! You got me sobbing in bed at 3 in the morning. I was wondering if I could request a Batfam x child!Wayne!Reader (maybe 4/5 years old) and what they’re all like (individually) when picking her up from school? In her class, they were learning about the great Batman, and all the hard work he does for the city, keeping everybody safe and whatnot. And obviously, she’s too small to know Bruce is Batman.. how would they all react to little baby Wayne rambling about cool Batman who has his own car and sidekick? I’d imagine she’s a very talkative kid, very sweet and friendly, and a very big-Daddy’s girl, but it’s completely up to you.

Thanks for listening to my rambling.. and keep up your awesome work!

Baby Wayne

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: This is one of the most adorable requests ever anon! Thank you for requesting and thank you for your kind words. I hope I’ve done your request justice.

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BRUCE:

He could see the smile on your face from the doorway. Bright and beaming as you sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning forward to listen to your teacher. The second you saw him lingering in the doorframe however, the smile grew and you were up on your feet in seconds and tottering over to him.

Wrapping your arms around his legs you hugged him tightly and looked up at him with big eyes. Picking you up and resting you on his hip, Bruce pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Hey sweetheart. Good day?”

You nodded excitedly, clinging to your dad. “We learnt about Batman today!” You exclaimed.

Bruce couldn’t help the small smirk that crept onto his face. You were still too young to know about his identity and he did well to keep it from you. You were always exploring and wondering off in the manor. He was sure you would make a fine vigilante one day, but for now he was keep to keep you sheltered.

“Oh really?” He raised a brow.

“Yep!” You said, popping the ‘p’. “He’s awesome! He has a cool car and side kicks! And he keeps the city safe! He’s super cool.”

Bruce bounced you up in his arms, savouring the joy in your voice. “Is that so?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded. “When I grow up I wanna be just like him Daddy!”

“I’m sure you will be kiddo.” Bruce smiled. “I’m sure you will.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

DICK:

He was waiting by the school gates, leaning up against the metal framing when your class came piling out of the doors. Bruce was out on a meeting, so he was tasked with collecting you from school, which of course he had no problem doing.

When you saw him, he made his way over slowly, watching as your face lit up at the sight of him and you came running over him with your bag hanging halfway off one shoulder.

“Dick look!” You beamed crashing into him as you ran a little too fast. Moving away you pointed to the yellow and black sticker you had plastered to the hem of the coat.

Dick crouched down to your height. “What you got there, squirt?”

“It’s the bat signal.” You announced proudly. “We learnt about it in class today.”

“You learnt about Batman?” Dick asked. He had wondered how long it would be until you began to learn about what they did.

“Yes we learnt about all of the heroes. But Batman is my favourite because he saves the city and he has a sidekick!” You grinned “Robin! I like him too.”

Dick hid his little grin by tussling your hair. He couldn’t wait for you to learn more.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

JASON:

Seeing Jason picking you up was a nice surprise for you when you finished class. You were ecstatic to see him and ran up to him squealing.

“Jay!” You giggled and he picked up and spun you around in the air. “I missed you.”

He had been away on business. You had constantly been asking Bruce about when you would see him again. You had began to miss his face at home.

“Guess what we’ve been learning about!?”

“Hmm.” Jason bit his lip pretending to think “pirate ballerinas”

You placed a playful hit to his chest with a laugh. “No silly. Batman!”

A-ha. Jason thought. this would be interesting. He wondered how much you had been told, though he doubted no matter how much you had learnt, that you had managed to piece things together.

“Was it good?” He asked you.

“It was great! He saves all of the people and is a real hero!” You said waving your arms animatedly. “He’s so brave!”

“He is.” Jason agreed. “Just like you little Wayne”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TIM:

Tim found you doodling at one of the tables in the library. You had an array of colours sprawled out in front of you as you scribbled on the pieces of paper infront of you.

He peered over your shoulder trying to catch a glimpse of your drawing. You had draw stick figures, which made it hard to go by but even with your messy doodles he could make out the distinctive domino masks of the Robin and the black of Batman’s suit and cowl. He knew them like the back of his hand, so it was no surprise.

“What you drawing, kiddo?” He asked you.

You gripped the drawing with your hands and held it up proudly to him. “Batman and Robin. We learnt about them in class so I wanted to draw them.”

“It’s very good kid.” Tim told you, handing you back the drawing of the lopsided people only for you to hand it back to him.

“Can we put it on the fridge?” You asked curiously “I want to show it to Dad. I bet he thinks Batman is awesome too!” You blabbed “do you think he will like it, Timmy?”

“I’m sure he will.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

DAMIAN:

Dami was reading in the library when you plonked yourself beside him. Well…kind of. You struggled up onto the couch first.

“What are you doing?” You frowned, trying to read see over his shoulder.

He was reading up on one of Gotham’s villains that was causing havoc in the city. His first instinct was to shut it so you couldn’t read any of it…but then he remembered that you were still only learning to read.

“I’m reading a book on Batman.” He half-lied, setting the book to one side so you could clamber into his lap.

“Ooh I like Batman too.” You nodded.

Damian frowned. You weren’t supposed to know about that yet. “Where did you learn about him?”

“At school.”

Damian relaxed a little.

“He has a super cool cape! And a big car that he drives really fast around the city to stop the bad guys!”

“Sounds dangerous.” Damian smirked.

“Yes…” you trailed off. “But he is allowed to do it because he is Batman.” You decided.

“Is that right? He teased.

“Yes.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

I hope that was okay! I hope you don’t mind that I changed it a little at the end: I didn’t want it to get too repetitive.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao

[gojoux]

I read some funny headcanons de ontem pra hoje about characters reaction to their future kids travelling to the past to meet their past selves, and couldn't help but think about the JJK men's reactions lkkkkk.

How do you think they would react if their future kids with us travelled to see them (and specially us)?

Could you do their reactions? It's okay if you don't want to, I just wandered that it would be fun reading in your point of view 🥹🥹

Anyway- thanks for the Toge headcanons 😭🙏🏽

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta. Inumaki.

◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

He would stay silent for a few seconds as he looked closely at the small kids, a wide grin appeared on his face. “Oh~ Who do we have here?” He kneels to look at them with a proud look, “Heh, you’re my kids? I mean, you kinda do take after me, good-looking and all.” Then he looks at you, still with that wide, proud grin, saying, “We should get married and have babies as soon as possible!” out of impulse. But he does mean it deep inside.

◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

He’d be surprised at first but then he’d let out a gentle smile, warmth filling his heart at the sight, “These are our kids?” He urges his future kids to come to him with a soft wave of a hand and hold your hand with another to stand by his side as you two look at your kids together. “They’re the perfect combination of you and me. How adorable.” He’s definitely looking forward to raising them with you when the time comes.

◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

He looks at them in silence with a slightly confused look on his face. “Huh? The hell did these brats come from?” He looks at them running around and then towards him, pulling on his robe and jumping to his lap. “Hey, watch it.” He looks at you with a smug smile, “You seeing this? It’s our brats from the future,” he chuckles in amusement, letting the kids to whatever they want to him. They’re the only ones who have the pass to do so besides you.

◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

“What is this?” He looks at the small kids running towards him. He’ll let out a faint smile as he kneels to ask their name. He’d grab his kids’ hand, admiring how tiny their hand is compared to his. “I’m guessing you are my kids?” He makes sure, and then says to you, “We made such beautiful children together.” He’s already thinking about how he would raise them in the future.

◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

He’ll be so taken back, a bit shaky also. “This is our kids? My kids?” He asks you, his eyes looking at the kids in front of him, clinging onto his pants. He’ll sit down, placing the kids on his lap, already loving them. “They’re cute, I’ll tell you that.” He smiles, attention on them. “I’m sure they get their good looks from you, my dear.” He doesn’t want to let them go once it’s time to part ways, hiding a few tears on his sleeve.

◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

He’d scratch the back of his head in confusion, “Hm? My kids you say?” He looks down at the kids who look exactly like him. “Looks like we’ll be having our own kids, after all, darling. Be prepared.” He chuckles shortly before approaching the kids, “Hiya, there, kiddos.” He ruffles their hair. “We did a good job making them, heh.” He smiles proudly.

◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

He’ll be so confused, like, where did these kids come from? And why do they look like him? He looks at the kids with deep thoughts. “My kids? With you?” He asks quietly, looking at the kids and then at you, a slightly surprised look appears on his face, “Oh...” He’d make an effort to interact with them, and he can’t help but let out a small smile, thinking that he does have a future with you.

◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

He’d be dumbfounded and speechless for a moment and would look back at you before speaking, “These kids are ours? Really? Man, I’m just too shocked to speak clearly right now. They’re adorable!” He’d smile at the kids and start playing around with them. “Can we take them home and show them to everyone?” He asks with a bright smile on his face. “They’re too cute to be left behind.”

◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀

“Oh, my...” He looks at the kids who are running towards him, hugging his legs. Once he found out they’re his kids from the future with you, he’d let out a blush and smile in delight, showing them to you, “Look, these are our future kids.” He’ll hold them gently as if he would break them, “I’m so happy. We’re going to be their parents in the future.” He just can’t wait to start a family with you.

◈ — 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 🍙

He stays silent for a while tugging your hand to grab your attention, “Tsuna Tsuna,” he points in the direction of the kids that are approaching you both. “Konbu.” He raises a hand to greet them as friendly as he could. Once he realizes they’re his kids from the future, he’ll be stunned, “Sujiko,” and look at you with a knowing look, “Shake.” He smiles in approval after interacting with them.

Anonnie, I hope I did your request justice 🥹

[madelynraemunson]

i need to know if we ever get jealous of eddie’s said short lived relationships. do we ever try to sabotage them? or are we the type to try and get along with them and thats when they’re like “oh no you two need to be together?”

(i know the answer in my heart but i want to hear what you think lol)

ex husband!eddie x reader

whaaat? sabotage eddie's relationships? 😵 that's diabolical. why on earth would we do that?

that one time we showed up to his house wearing a sundress after months of wearing sweats was TOTALLY unplanned! we had a date, after all.

and that one time we were dancing with eddie at the family bbq, rocking out to all our favorite songs like careless teenagers right in front of girlfriend #3 was all a ploy by our kiddos! right, kids? right? we do everything for the kids. they love seeing their parents happy and getting along. right, kids?

and are you really still on about the day of eli's talent show?? 🤦🏻‍♀️ we only asked girlfriend #9 to take a family photo of us because she was the only one that was around. that's all 😇 and she shouldn't be mad at us! eli LOVES taking pics with mommy and daddy. who is she to get in the way of a family, especially when kids are involved 🤨😤 (also, we didn't MAKE eddie place his hand where he did in the pictures. he literally did it by himself, on his own terms.)💋

...okay, bunnie you got me! we know damn well what we're doing 😅 but quite frankly, so does eddie.

you've got a date with david tonight. in fact, eddie knows was nice enough to house sit for you and help the kids with homework. an innocent, sweet little gesture. right?

you and david are watching a movie on his couch and things are getting steamy really fast. david is about to kiss you when...

RING! RING!

you pull away immediately. checking your phone to see who it is, you realize,

"it's my ex husband, that fucker. the house better be burning down." you go to answer it. "yes?"

“hey, sweetheart, this is eddie...the banished." he greets you. “i can't seem to find the measuring tape and was wondering if you knew where it was."

you're unsure as to why he would even need measuring tape. regardless, you reply,

"it's in with drawer of miscellaneous stuff. the one by the kitchen sink.”

"ahh, that's right. found it. thanks, babe."

but that's not the only useless call of the night. as your date with david continues, the calls keep coming through in seemingly calculated intervals. at the worst possible times. with the most irrelevant fucking questions.

“i can't find the baking soda." “where do you keep the batteries? the c batteries not the double As." "hey, just a heads up, you might wanna call somebody for this pipe." "what's the wifi password again?"

"EMUNSON1986!" you hiss. "the year you graduated high school."

"aww, really?" eddie coos. "that's endearing. thanks baby."

eventually after an hour, the calls stop. you and david were able to finish the movie, and get back to that steamy interaction before you were spammed mercilessly. david is now fiddling with your straps as you two are kissing, his available hand grazing your lower back, breath hitching when —

RING! RING!

"jesus h CHRIST!" you howl. "it's midnight for god's sake. this better be important. HELLO?”

"sorry," eddie mumbles on the other line. "remind me, i'm looking at your snake plant and was wondering how often these guys need watering? they look a little parched."

"once a day and i already did it," you say through gritted teeth.

"it's a new day, should they be watered again?"

"don't worry about it, eds."

"i always worry, sweetheart.”

david happens to hear this. giving you a side eye now, your date watches as you stay on the line with eddie for a couple of minutes. finally, you get eddie to agree to stop calling, which fills you with relief when you hang up the phone. your eyes then travel back to david, whom you begin to bat your flirty lashes at.

"now." you say. "where were we?"

"you should probably go home," david huffs. "looks like the fort still needs holding down."

you're seeing absolute red now. you are seething. that motherfucker.

your drive home is an angry, and sexually frustrated one. you can't believe eddie would sabotage your date like this, your only fun night out this week. he's in for it now.

"date ended early sweetheart?" eddie pouts at you the moment you walk into your house.

"bedroom," you order. "now."

tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe! as always thank you for reading 💋

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths @let-the-music-take-c0ntrol @meetmeatyourworst @b-irock @spencerssatchel

divider by: @cafekitsune

[hitlikehammers]

take the call

rating: t ♥️ cw: off-screen car accident (but EVERYTHING IS FINE), hurt/comfort, softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, married steddie, hurt/comfort, rockstar Eddie/teacher Steve, Steve's heart of gold is very possibly going to be Eddie's undoing one of these days, well-worn-soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day eighteen: Love is terrifying (@starryeyedjanai)

set in the 00s, with Steve and Eddie having two decades of loving under their belts, now ♥️

Eddie isn’t expecting a call, any call, really; he’s in the studio, like, if he gets a call someone takes a message or whatever.

And in fairness, Eddie doesn’t get the call.

He gets a message.

“Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes kinda automatically, kinda thoughtlessly at the cut of the audio track to let the mic system override from outside the booth.

“Okay, so, like, don’t freak out.”

He’s not thoughtless at all about the way he clocks the tension in Jeff’s voice even across the speaker system; it’s entirely automatic how he freezes, how he looks up and locks eyes with his friend through the glass and sucks in a sharp breath for the look on his face: pained.

Maybe, maybe scared.

Eddie’s heart drops somewhere near his knees, but beats there so fucking hard.

“This lady called, and she said she found Lainie’s card inside the case of a phone she picked up,” and okay, okay, that’s…that’s random but maybe it’s about their assistance manger, who just got her contract confirmed and got fancy new business cards for it and has been handing them out to everybody she sees, even gave Eddie extras to pass on to Steve, maybe he can share them at the school as if anyone at even a hoity-toity private 6-through-12 school would have a reason for a card from a record label but she’s excited, and Eddie’s excited for her, and Steve loves the people Eddie works with, and not just because they’re attached to Eddie and he loves the things that come with Eddie as a given—but that’s also true, and always has been, but—

“She, um,” Jeff’s voice is filtering through again, and Eddie clocks that there’s…there’s something more to it, more than his brain’s willing to grasp just yet but his body’s apparently picked up on because he thinks the slightest breeze would knock him over and shatter him into pieces, for the tightness in his body; he’s not focused enough to count the separate beats of his pulse but he can tell it’s quick enough already, still weighed down near his feet, that counting would be kinda hard, would take effort:

“She found the phone at a car crash?”

So: the more-to-it. The thing his body already knew.

Eddie…Eddie doesn’t even need to know what comes next to know he cannot fucking breathe.

“Sounded kinda like, uh, like it could have been Steve’s phone,” Jeff is trying to tell him, and part of Eddie hears it, part of him does but most of him is white noise, is pins-and-needles, is underwater and drowning and not even fucking thinking of fighting the pull because he can’t, he’s heavy at the legs and his lungs are seizing and there’s, he’s—

“Because it, umm, she found the card because the case was broken?” and just last night Eddie’d watched Steve pop off the case and slide the cards behind with a laugh and a promise to take them with him not today—because it’s one of those federal holidays that only schools notice happening, like the post office is still open—but definitely tomorrow, never knew which of the kiddos at the Rich People School might be a budding metalhead underneath their uniforms—

“And she said the case was, um, like bright—“

Green.

Electric lime neon fuckin’ green because after three times of Eddie taking Steve’s phone by accident he’d come home with that endearing eyesore, and a kiss to the bridge of Eddie’s nose and a soft hard to confuse that, babe nuzzled against him and—

“It could maybe have just been a coincide—“ Jeff’s talking but Eddie can’t fucking hear it, not really, not when he’s letting the door slam behind him and ripping off his headphones to drop to the groundnut when he’s gasping hard enough to crack a rib, not when the floor’s gone out from underneath him and his vision’s tunneled and nothing seems real, and everything feels too real, every world ending possibility shuddering through his foggy mind alongside every heartbreakingly perfect memory blossoming up unbidden just to serve as a reminder, an underscoring of what he stands to lose, what maybe he’s already fucking lost—

He meets Jeff’s eyes without the glass between them as he grabs his keys from his jacket on the couch and makes himself take the breath that’ll fuel the voice, that’ll give him words, just one word, he needs, he fucking needs—

“Where?”

_______________________

Eddie shouldn’t have driven himself, he knows that.

Like, on some other plane of existing, he’s sure he knows that.

But on this plane, he rips past his bandmates, all the extra people with them for recording, jams the close-door button before anyone can follow him into the elevator because he happens to know this one’s quicker than the stairs even on a good day, and this—

Eddie’s shaking so goddamn hard he can barely get one foot in front of the other, he really doesn’t think he can manage ten fucking flights of steps.

He burns rubber on the way out of the parking lot, and the nearest hospital to where Steve would have been—on his day off, because holiday, he’d have bene close to home, he mentioned food shopping, he thought he might make stir-fry but he wasn’t sure, they hadn’t made a vegetable haul from the Asian market downtown in a couple weeks and they need to, they need to but Steve wasn’t feeling like going on his own, because he might not say it out loud but they both know he enjoys Eddie’s excitability when new items hit the shelves and he can’t read the language they’re labelled in so he guesses frantically until the man who owns the place takes pity, only laughs a little and explains what this spice is for, or that that crazy looking thing’s a fruit, and they ultimately buy whatever it is because Eddie wants to try it now, because he got invested and—

Eddie should pull off the fucking road; his head’s a mess, he can’t see for the way his eyes are welling, streaming, the way he’s shaking with sobs that don’t exactly burst forth, just leak from his lashes as he trembles horrifically because…

Because they were maybe gonna have stir-fry, tonight. Even without the good vegetables.

They were—

Eddie thinks it’s fucking cruel, kind of unbearably so, that his brain’s dead-set on still processing the mundane little perfections of his life as if every single one of them might be dashed to pieces, might be hanging by a thread, might be entirely fucking gone, and he, he…

He can’t. He just, he fucking can’t.

Because that the thing, isn’t it: the scenarios he’s imagining aren’t hypothetical—they’re all memories, too. Steve bloodied, Steve bruised, Steve’s bones broken and flesh torn. Steve still, too still; Steve’s skin under Eddie’s hands when he can’t find a pulse because Eddie’s shaking, same as now how Eddie is fucking shaking—

Eddie knows all those things. They’re so long ago, now, so distant but his fucking cells will never forget every single moment he saw the man he loves bigger than his own goddamn life hurt like that; be risked like that. Be lost like—

And that’s the difference. That’s what is unravelling him as he speeds through the streets quicker than he should, probably breaking more laws than he could count and definitely more than he gives a shit to notice: it’s the losing.

Because the first times, even the times that came after Steve was his: they didn’t come with the loss of so much time, so much of themselves, so much glorious life that they’d built between them, the struggles and the triumphs, the hard choices and the easy things that weren’t choices at all: everything hand-in-hand, every night spent curled around each other, all of them, all of him, inside that chest since he was twenty fucking year old, and Eddie doesn’t just not know how to be outside of what he shares with Steve.

Eddie doesn’t think his own heart can survive, if if Steve’s isn’t next to him.

Eddie’s damn fucking sure no part of him would want to.

It takes him a minute to steady himself enough to get out of the car, once he finally reaches the ER. Steady his body, but more his fucking soul because the whole of him is shaking, is crying out, is wailing unfettered and breaking because he’s terrified, he is goddamn terrified of what he’s going to find when he walks in but he has to, he has to because whatever awaits him, that’s his husband, that is the love of his whole goddamn life and if the worst is going to come for him he’ll face it like he’s faced everything else: at Steve Harrington’s side.

If the worst comes for one of them, then it came for them both.

So he’s stumbling, shuddering, but resolute in his chest when he flies through the sliding doors, eyes still swimming, unfocused but he makes himself take a deep breath—it takes a few tries, and he doesn’t quite succeed, it’s still a tremorous thing and his lungs are still in revolt, but it’s something, and he’ll take something; he has to to take something—

“Eddie?”

He almost doesn’t register it, the voice from the sick-spiral of his memories, all the love on the table to be forfeit—

He almost doesn’t register that his name’s not coming from inside his head.

“Oh my god, what happened?” There’s a flurry over motion in front of him, and he blinks rapidly to try and pin it down because it looks familiar, it smells familiar, it aches familiar in his chest but:

“What is it, what’s wrong?” and fuck, it feels familiar when a hand reaches for his cheek where it’s still damp, tacky for the tears; when another hand slides itself into Eddie’s and draws him in, a hand that fits like no other hand in this world or any other, ever—

“Are you okay?”

And the hand on his cheek turns him and follows his eyes and it takes that long for him to clear his vision properly, but now he’s just blinking so much because that, that can’t be, even if it feels in every goddamn way like it really is, but it can’t…

It can’t be Steve here, whole and on his feet and looking at Eddie with so much worry, so much heart as he tilts Eddie’s chin a little this way, that way, squints to try and see…something.

Eddie’s breath tears out of him in a wet fucking gasp;

“Am I okay?”

Because Eddie’s really not the one to fucking worry about here, Steve had—

“You’re in a hospital, Eds, that’s not usually where you go when you’re okay,” Steve’s eyes widen as he he slides both hands now to Steve’s head, holding him still and assessing…something, maybe, Jesus: Eddie doesn’t know, but he does know that the touch on him now makes his…makes his heart feel safe and he’d been fucking terrified he’d never feel that again.

“Fuck, what happened, baby, did you hit your,” and fingers are dancing gentle across points on Eddie’s skull, so delicate and careful and he can’t fucking help it—

“Are you real?”

Because he needs to know, he needs to know with words because this feels…this feels right and warm and impossible but also true, so.

He needs to know. “Am I…?” Steve’s lips part and his brow furrows before his jaw clenches in that dependable way he has of squaring up to the monster at hand, no matter the kind.

“Shit,” he breathes out slow but then he nods: resolved; “shit, okay. Okay, let’s find—“

“You are real,” and it turns out Eddie didn’t actually need him to say it. He just needed to see the flash in Steve’s eyes when he was ready to take on the world for the sake of love, the way he positions himself a little different in front of Eddie as he keeps one hand at Eddie’s cheek but then slides to brace more at his neck, purposeful, like he’s splinting a wound or something, and then a hand grabs for Eddie’s own again and: oh.

Oh yes. That is Steve Harrington, living and breathing and solid and real, because no one else protects like this.

No one.

Eddie’s heart stumbles, jackrabbits around a little, almost like a reset: like it knows as the implications sink in to Eddie’s mind that it’s not destined to break anymore.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees too easily, distracted as he tugs the gentlest bit at Eddie’s hand, toward the nurse’s station; “yeah, and we should—“

“And you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs it off, but Eddie…Eddie’s vision is clearing. His pulse is settling. He can hear above the static and his limbs are getting lighter.

“You’re one-hundred-percent okay, not a scratch on you, not a single thing wrong,” he needs to make sure, like, so fucking sure.

“I am fine, Eddie,” Steve turns to look him straight on, exasperated and anxious and vibrant with it, so alive in it; “but you’re—“

Eddie’s hand moves almost without his conscious consent, definitely without a plan to grab at Steve’s arm and pinch his skin because Eddie was vaguely toying with the idea of pinches himself, and maybe with poking Steve a few extra times to make sure he didn’t disappear, but apparently his brain landed on: pinch Steve, avoid confirmation bias if your head wants to lie enough to make him real just you you, because you need him that bad.

Steve startles, and turns those beautiful brilliant bronze eyes on Eddie, stretches wide as he gapes a little at his husband.

Eddie…Eddie is here, in front of his living-breathing-gorgeously-aghast husband.

“Okay, oww,” Steve drops Eddie’s hand and pulls back, leaving Eddie’s head to its own devices as he looks a little shocked, shooting just shy of a glare Eddie’s way: full of questions.

Eddie—now that the biggest one’s solved, and solved so perfect, so gentle and sure and he doesn’t have to bury the soul of him; he doesn’t have to bury his soul—but now?

Eddie also has some fucking questions.

“Where’s your phone?” seems the most relevant to start with.

Steve blinks, frowns a little:

“It got lost in the crash—“

“Crash?” Eddie’s tone pitches up to squeak a little because: Steve’s here and whole in from of him, yes. But fuck, there was still a crash? He was—

“Not mine, my car’s still parked at fucking Jiffy Lube,” Steve adds with a huff; “I saw it happen so I stopped and—“

And Eddie knows his husband. He knows his husband better than he knows himself, and Eddie’s kinda made it a point of pride for how self-aware he’s grown to be these days, in living this life and loving Steve beyond the bounds of living at all. But he knows his Steve, and so he knows damn well what happened.

Car runs into car. Steve sees it and jumps out to help. Because Steve Harrington is a protector. Steve Harrington is a helper. Steve Harrington is the best man Eddie’s ever known.

Soon as he jumped into the fray, he wouldn’t have thought once about a fucking phone.

And Eddie, Eddie just, he needs to—

He grabs Steve’s hands and wraps them around his own waist, lets them go and then pulls Steve tight to his chest and buries his face in Steve’s shoulder as Eddie winds his way around his husband, feels him breathing, feels the tickle of his hair.

“You’re gonna kill me, Stevie,” Eddie whimpers, that going tight now all over again:

“You’ve got the biggest heart of fucking gold the world’s ever seen,” he moans into Steve’s collar; “and you’re going to fucking kill me.”

Steve doesn’t say anything, but his hands move up to rub Eddie’s back, rote and learned and he might not wholly get, yet, what Eddie’s putting together, and where Eddie’s head’s been, what his heart’s been through, but the first thing he knows, and does like clockwork, is to love of his partner, to soothe him even if he doesn’t know what for.

“Someone found your phone, and they, umm,” Eddie licks his lips, takes a suffering breath and tries to straighten but he’s not ready, not yet: he slumps right back onto Steve’s shoulder:

“They called the studio.”

“Shit,” Steve hisses, bunches his hands in Eddie’s shirt and draws him tighter to his chest: “shit, they interrupted,” and oh, fuck no, fuck regretting the interruption—

“They told me they found it at a crash site,” Eddie grits out, the hurt of it still raw, like just saying the words no matter where they landed in trust, just recalling those minutes that felt like full nightmarish lifetimes, reopens the tender wounds it’d left in hims; “they found it with the case broken,” and Steve leans back, then, eyes saucers as he meets Eddie’s gaze, breath catches harsh.

“Oh,” Steve whispers, eyes darting back and forth between Eddie’s, taking the whole of him in and then he exhales so heavy:

“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, fucking mournful before he takes his hands and links them behind the base of Eddies’ skull and draws him in to the center of his chest, envelopes him there whole: “come here.”

And Eddie falls into that chest—rising-falling-living—he falls into Steve so fucking fast

“I am totally fine, I promise you,” Steve breathes again Eddie’s ear, close and dear and real: “car’s fine—“

“I don’t fucking care about the car—“ Eddie tenses up, appalled at the implication that he gave one single goddamn thought to the car— “No, like, as proof,” Steve’s quick to correct him, to ease the hackles on him; “I wasn’t in the crash, but it was pretty bad and,” Steve shrugs a little then adds soft: “I keep my first aid certs up to date for a reason, I figure, right?”

Jesus; yes, okay. Steve’s savior complex had largely mellowed to a non-interdimensional-threat level with time but he’s meticulous about keeping every skillset he’d gone out of his way to learn from professionals before they’d gone up against the Upside Down for the last time sharp and at the ready for anything: even now.

Fuck, but this beautiful, brilliant, impossible man.

“I was helping, best I could, until the EMTs got there,” Steve tells him softly, fills in the gaps because he knows Eddie’s mind, all the pictures it paints for itself, and in times like these it’s always the worst possible pictures—he knows Eddie needs the slate wiped clean with the truths, blessedly softer, in this:

“Police wanted me to stick around for a statement but the girl who was driving the first car, she was so panicked and she didn’t want to go alone so, umm,” Steve huffs a little, shifts against Eddie gentle and solid and here: “she said she knew me, she was pretty desperate I think, so I rode here with her,” and of course he did, of course he did because he’s Steve; “now I’m just waiting to make sure she gets out of surgery okay,” he squeezes Eddie then, like a punctuation, and it feels so, so fucking good; “also still have to give the goddamn statement, but fuck knows that’s just hurry-up-and-wait,” he turns, and he kisses Eddie’s hair then and Eddie feels something snap in him, give way and the lingering tension spill from his frame as he gasp a little on a breathy exhale:

“I love you so much,” and he does, god: god, but how much he loves this man.

“I love you too, baby,” Steve mouths against his head and Eddie closes his eyes and nuzzles his a little closer as he puts it into words, because it feels like he needs to, it feels like in Steve’s arms like this, pressed up close to him to feel this undeniable life in him: it feels like the coast is clear enough to risk it, to confess:

“I was so fucking scared,” and the words only break a little, and that’s more than Eddie honestly expected.

“I am so sorry,” Steve bows his chin down to graze lips against Eddie’s hairline, delicate and intimate and shivery, trembly down Eddie’s spin for the best of reasons, now.

“Not your fault,” Eddie’s quite to counter, to make clear, because: “shit, you didn’t do anything, I just…”

Eddie makes himself pull back and meet Steve’s eyes, reaches out to frame his face, dear and desperate:

“I can’t lose you,” he moans a little, begs a little, says it with a bare line of something primal echoing in it, scraped straight from his bones: “I cannot ever lose you.”

“I know,” Steve turns and kisses one of his palms, and those two words hold the promise of five more they’ve said so many times, and held so true between them for so many year, through so fucking much:

It’s the same for me.

And to be loved the same as he loves is a fucking privilege; it’s heady and it’s wonderful and Eddie needs it, needs Steve, more than goddamn air.

“Sit with me?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his at his cheeks, and nods a little toward the blessedly-quiet collection of chairs by the windows; “while I wait?”

“Nowhere else I’d go,” Eddie says it like the given that it is, and pulls Steve close to kiss him full, to press his lips to Steve’s and drink his warmth, his breath, to feel it sink int past his heart and pump through his veins:

“Not ever, Stevie,” he speaks against Steve’s lips, all of him in it, every vow inside it:

“Not ever.”

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[seeingivy]

hair stylist

satoru gojo x f!reader

content: dad!gojo + megumi and tsumiki kiddos

an: a request from my beloved @luna0713hunter <3

--

“wanna take my mission today?” 

you momentarily look up from your current task - braiding tsumiki’s hair - to find satoru cheesing at you from the doorway, with a big smile on his face. 

“i mean, not really.” 

he pouts as he pads into tsumiki’s room, flopping down on the bed next to the two of you. you focus back on the ends of her brown hair, meticulously braiding every last strand into the fishtail braid tsumiki begged you to do for her. 

you remember the first time she came into your bedroom, her shy little eyes peeking into your shared bedroom with satoru on the first day of school. 

“y/n?” 

you turn around, gesturing for her to fully come into the room, as satoru gets dressed into his uniform in the bathroom. she shyly takes a seat on the edge of the bed, swirling a lock of her own hair in her fingers. 

“hi kiddo. need something?” 

she scoots closer to you on the bed and buries her face into the sheets, her red all neck against the white cloth. you bring your hand down on her back, rubbing soft circles into her skin. 

“hey. you okay, tsumiki?” you whisper, trying to stay as soft and quiet as you can. gentle, so she won’t run away. 

“yeah. i just wanted to ask you something.” she responds, her voice muffled. 

you wrap your hands around her wrists to pull her up, her bright pink face staring back at you. 

“canyoubraidmyhair?” she murmurs out, so fast you barely catch it. 

“huh?” 

she sighs as she lies flat down on the sheets this time, facing up. 

“every girl comes to school with pretty braids. fishtail, french, side braids. and i want to do my hair like that too but no one ever taught me how. when i was a kid, my mom used to do them for me so i never how to by myself.” 

at the mention of her mom, you immediately perk up, running to your room to grab your combs, elastics, and pins to braid her soft, brown hair into the half ass braid job you learned how to do in middle school. and when she looks in the mirror, excitedly running her hands over the braided locks with a smile on her face, it’s all the more worth it. 

“why do you want me to take your mission, ‘toru?” 

he readjusts his long legs onto tsumiki’s tiny bed as he looks over at you, one of his free hands swinging tsumiki’s french braid on the left in the air. you immediately smack his hand off her hair, which causes her to break out into a fit of giggles, as you look at him. 

“you always get to take the kids to school. i wanted to do it for once.” he pouts, now tickling tsumiki at the sides. 

“can you please take us to school? can we get milkshakes on the way?” tsumiki asks, the excitement rising in her voice. 

you lightly tug on tsumiki’s hair as the two of them start scheming on everything they’re going to do the morning of. make strawberry pancakes, listen to loud music on the way there, flip off that stupid traffic guard who always makes you guys late. 

“I didn’t even say yes yet, satoru.” you deadpan, the two of them turning their heads around towards you. 

they both have matching pouts on their face as they beg you, pleading with everything they’ve got. they’re both shaking your hands - claiming they’ll do the dishes for a week, clean the dirt they track in after baseball practice, give you a massage if you’ll take satoru’s mission so he can take them to school for once. 

“fine. i’ll take the mission.” you respond, the two of them immediately toppling over you on the beg to give you a hug and press wet kisses to your cheeks. 

– 

your phone buzzes in your pocket for the tenth time as you and nanami patrol down the halls of the abandoned penitentiary. 

“is that gojo?” 

“who else would it be, kento?” you sigh, yanking your phone out of your pocket to read through the texts. 

from ‘toru 

‘toru: attachment: one image

‘toru: megumi isn’t too happy about our change of transportation. 

‘toru: update, bought him a milkshake. he smiled for two seconds. i’m basically his favorite now. 

‘toru: nvm. he’s mad now. I accidentally honked at his teacher and called her a snail while the window was down. 

you zoom in on the picture, tsumiki and satoru cheesing in the front as megumi looks away from the camera, his line of vision focused on the view outside the window. you tuck your phone back into your pocket after hearting the image, only to see the curse directly to the side of nanami. 

he hasn’t noticed it either, too focused on the residuals on the wall, so you lean forward immediately pushing the two of you to the ground as the curse runs into the wall. 

you immediately scramble to your feet as nanami stands up, the two of you charging towards the curse on the left. there’s around four, the lot of them surrounding you. it takes you and nanami around twenty minutes to exorcise, leaving the two of you stretching out your bones when you’re done. 

“i haven’t done this in so long. i can feel my bones cracking, kento.” 

you reach down to touch the tip of your toes when you notice it. the chunk of your hair missing. 

you immediately bolt up and run towards the closest window and feel your heart drop when you see your own reflection. it seems that when you knocked nanami down to avoid the curse from hitting him, you nicked a reasonable amount of your own hair in the process.

“are you okay? did you hurt yourself?” 

“my hair. i think i cut it when i fell on the blade.” you whisper, still running your hands through the locks in the dark. 

“did you nick the skin? does it hurt?” he asks, cracking his knuckles as you take the veil down. 

“no. i didn’t even feel it. I think it’s okay.”  

“well, that’s good, considering all things. i’ll see you friday, right?” 

you give him a polite nod as you both turn on your heels, marking on your separate ways. and the despair of the entire ordeal sits in your chest as you drag your way home. 

– 

you shove your key into the lock, swinging the door open with your back. the apartment is filled with the sound of soft giggles as you pad into the kitchen, the three of them hunched over against the counter. 

tsumiki and satoru are making some mess of what looks like paper mache while megumi does his little galaxy puzzle on the counter, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. 

you push past them as you basically sprint to your bedroom to survey the damage in good light. you can feel the tears burning behind your eyes as you look at the mess on your head. 

the right side is still intact, coming all the way down to your normal length. but the left side, the entire mess is jagged and cut up to your shoulder. the mark isn’t clear cut, some of them closer to your shoulder while a few are still at their regular length. 

you hear a knock on your door and satoru pads into the room, his hands coming down on your shoulders and squeezing as he presses a soft kiss to one of your cheeks. he leans his head against your shoulder, eyes obscured by the fabric of your uniform as he murmurs into your skin. 

“how was the mission, love? hurt anywhere?” 

you wipe the wet tears on your face with the back of your hand as he lifts his head off your shoulder, immediately running his eyes and his hands on you to find the aching parts after your lack of a response to his question. 

“where? do you want me to bandage, you should go lie down and rest and you-” he murmurs under his breath, as he presses his hands to your arms, looking for a patch of red, purple, anything out of the ordinary. 

“i’m not hurt, ‘toru. sorry, i-” 

he brings his face up to yours, his eyes washed over in concern as he wraps his hands around your cheeks, his hands warm against your skin. 

“what is it? let me fix it, i-” he whispers, bringing up his hands to cup your face. 

you sigh as you wrap your fingers around his wrists, his hands still fixed on your face. 

“i knocked ken’ out of the way when we were in there and fell on my blade. i nicked like half of my hair off, satoru” you whine, the tears filling your eyes again. 

he lifts his hands up to examine the jagged cuts, his fingers carding through the locks. 

“no cuts. that’s-that’s good, love. you-”

you wrap your hands around his neck as he circles his own around your waist, rubbing small circles into the small of your back. he’s whispering soft words into your ears, the sentiment making you cry even more. 

“you’re still my pretty girl, you know that? we can fix it and you-” 

“satoru. I love my long hair. and i know it’s silly to cry over hair when i could have been worse but, but it’s-” 

“it means something, sweetheart. i know.” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your hair. 

you nod as you turn back to the mirror, running your hands through the hair. satoru reaches for the closest drawer on top of the counter, yanking out a pair of silver scissors as he gives you a smile. you give him a meek nod as you gather your hair at the back, for him to cut off the last chunks of your long hair.

except he takes the scissors and leans forward in the mirror to cut off his own chunk of hair, holding the white locks open in his fist. 

“what- satoru. what are you doing?” 

he swings open the door and calls out for tsumiki and megumi, as he shaggily messes with his newly cut hair in the mirror. he’s still taking some off the sides, his face scrunched up in concentration as the scissors move into his hair. tsumiki and megumi pad into the bathroom, their eyes wide at the sight of you two.

“what are you guys doing?” tsumiki asks. 

“haircuts. you’re both getting split ends.” he responds, so matter of factly that tsumiki and megumi run up to the mirror, running their hands through their own hair at the comment. tsumiki turns around to your side, brown eyes staring into yours. 

“can you do my hair short like yours? long on one side and short on the other?” 

you smile as you lift her up by the waist to sit her on the counter, running a comb through her hair as megumi nearly fights with satoru who is trying to do the same. 

“my hair wasn’t quite done, sweet girl. i can keep it as it is if you’d like?” 

“no, no. i want short hair like yours if you’re going to do short hair.” 

you can feel the tears burning in your eyes as satoru smiles at you in the mirror, mouthing “mama’s girl” as you reach for the extra set of scissors. megumi’s yelling at him for taking his eyes away for even a second while he has scissors in his hair, which has the two of them arguing with each other like there’s no tomorrow. 

you brush tsumiki's hair, the look on her face is so excited, as you snip the long strands of her hair out. she’s running her hands through her hair excitedly when you finish, even more excited when satoru starts cutting your hair to look just like hers. 

you switch with gojo, evening out the mess he made of his own hair and the hack job he did to megumi, until everyone’s hair is to the best of your doing - black, brown, and white hair sprawled all over the counter and the floor. 

“okay megs, miki. run to the bathroom, we’ll be right there to help you shower.” 

they both run out of the bathroom, their little footsteps dying out in the background as you turn back to satoru, whose pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“i like the hair, love. you look like one of those cunty moms who serves on a school board. gets her panties in a real twist over sliced apples.” 

you laugh as you run your hands through his shortened white hair, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of his forehead. 

“thank you for that, you-” 

“be quiet. i-i’m just taking care of you, love. you always help me clean up after missions, pressing soft kisses to all my bruises as i go to sleep. this is just me doing the same for you.” he whispers, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

you pull back and give him the biggest smile you can as you two lock hands to undertake your next mission. 

get megumi to take a shower without complaining the entire time. you already know you’ll be the one soothing satoru after this one.

--

taglist: @porridgesblog  @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[landorris]

popular | lando norris x fem! reader

summary; who says instagram models don’t know a thing about f1?

fc; darianka sanchez

warnings; english is not my first language, this is my firts ever smau

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yourusername

liked by friendsuser, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: back in ny for a bit ⭐️💋

user1: she’s so mother

frienduser: come home i miss you😕😕

yourusername: ik i miss you too, it’s just for this week 😖💞

user2: who is she and why is daniel in her likes?

user3: she’s an instagram model from australia, oscar and her have been following each other for years now but we don’t know if they’re friends

user4: isn’t she a bit young for danny?

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lando norris phone

your phone

lando norris had followed you on instagram

you followed lando norris on instagram

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, lando norris and others

yourusername: finally home

user1: you’re so coquette coded

user2: lacy

user3: not lando joining

user4: lando norris what are you doing here?

user5: idk what they see in her

landonorris: you like bows?! i also like bows what a coincidence

yourusername: ahah so cool norriz

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danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and others

danielricciardo: home race was alright 🦘

tagged: yourusername

yourusername: i’m so cool😎

danielricciardo: i got payed to post that photo

yourusername: all i see is lies👩🏽‍🦯

user1: MOTHER IN THE PADDOCK

user2: i want a win

user3: what is she doing here?

user4: i hate when f1 teams just invite this instagram models who know nothing about f1 instead of inviting people who actually like it

user5: right?! she probably doesn’t even know how many drivers are in f1

landonorris: good race mate🙂

danielricciardo: you two lando, wonder why🤭

user6: what is this supposed to mean?

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yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, frienduser and others

yourusername: damn i wish my dad taught me more about f1 🫤

tagged: aussiegrit

aussiegrit: damn you should’ve spent more time in the paddock with me

yourusername: yeah, it’s not like i went to ALL of your races

danielricciardo: now everyone knows im besties with your dad

yourusername: no you’re not

aussiegrit: come to dinner tonight daniel

danielricciardo: see!! i’m going mark 😁

user1: now i understand why is she so beautiful

user2: this explains a lot about her relationship with daniel

user3: OH SHE ATE THIS

landonorris: 😦

yourusername: what?

landonorris: text!

yourusername: kay

user4: not lando discovering with us😭😭

user5: she gagged that girl in daniel’s post

user6: i want your dad 🤭

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your phone

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: last few days at home before japan

danielricciardo: you’re coming to japan?

yourusername: yeah! i got invited

danielricciardo: and why am i only hearing about this now?

yourusername: i only got the invite today

danielricciardo: he’s cooking 🧑🏽‍🍳

user1: who is stealing my gf?

user2: is it lando

user3: guys hear me out i think it’s lando

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lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, aussiegrit and others

lando.jpg: japan🇯🇵⭐️

user1: are they……soft launching?

danielricciardo: i wonder who it is on the second picture

user2: still don’t like her

user3: they think we don’t know 😂

user4: ladies we lost him

user5: he posted her, man is in love

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

yourusername: i think i like japan

danielricciardo: i knew you would change your mind

user1: can he fight?

aussiegrit: have fun kiddo!

yourusername: i love you dad💞

user2: yeah it’s definitely her

user3: are they dating ?

landonorris: i think i really really like japan too

user4: never beating the norriz allegations

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