#but so is every 12-15 year old
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leahdrawsstuff · 6 months ago
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there’s a lot of anime where the main characters have absolutely no business being teenagers doing all the stuff they’re doing but ngl they needed to be 14 in Madoka Magica. like that’s just what being in middle school feels like
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sodapopper · 5 months ago
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97% sure Darry purposely calls Ponyboy the wrong age when he’s annoyed with him
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objectionloser · 3 months ago
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sometimes i will look at blogs and realise their owners are 15 or younger and i will go aah. thats pretty young and then i have to remember that was literally me like 3 years ago
ive been on tumblr for almost 4 years...?
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riding-with-the-wild-hunt · 10 months ago
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vetted fundraisers from today. please keep sharing and donating as you're able, it really does so much; even if your individual action feels small, you are helping to save lives.
june 29th:
14-year-old Hala El-Hissi, her two siblings (the younger of whom needs hepatitis treatment), and their mother (€8,459/€16,000) - @halaelhissi, @nadasaftawi, verified by @/ibtisams
Muhammad Al-Azayza and his family, including two children, one with Down syndrome (kr6,738 SEK/kr200,000 SEK) - @hamouda-az, verified by @/sayruq
Ahmed Ziad, his siblings, and their sick parents (£2,733/£30,000) - @ahmed-ziad, verified by @/nabulsi
Basel Ayyad and his family of eight, including his daughter who needs urgent treatment to preserve her eyesight (CHF1,506/CHF60,000) - @basel-1995, verified by @/sayruq
Safaa Abd, her husband, and their two young children (€952/€50,000) - @safaabed, verified by @/90-ghost
Wafaa Alnhal's family of 15, including four children and a newborn (€20,277/€50,000) - @wafs-posts, verified by @/nabulsi
Alaa Al Khateeb's family of six, including her mother who needs medical treatment (£25,391/£56,000) - @alaaalkhateeb, #99 on @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet
Haneen Atya's family of ten, including several young children, a newborn, and her mother who needs urgent treatment for a stroke and bleeding ($38,011 AUD/$70,000 AUD) - @haneenatya34, verified by @/el-shab-hussein
Mohammed Okal's evacuation and education (kr3,228 NOK/kr90,000 NOK) - @mohammedokal-2, verified by @/90-ghost
Mohammed Adly Haboub and his family of four (he turns 20 today) (kr14,191 SEK/kr300,000 SEK) - @mohammedhaboub, verified by @/90-ghost
Siraj Abudayeh, his wife, and their three young children who've lost their treasured home ($1,398 CAD/$82,000 CAD) - @siraj2024, verified by @/nabulsi
Hadeel Adnan Abu Nasser and her family of 12 (they lost her father in a bombing and her brother to malnutrition; Hadeel is responsible for all her family) (€1,126/€20,000) - @hadeelgaza, verified by @/90-ghost
not yet vetted:
Reem Mohamed, her husband, and their two young children (€1,925/€20,000) - @rem096
i know you likely see posts like this every day, but please don't tune them out. every one of these families and individuals deserves to live safely and pursue their dreams. any contribution you make keeps someone's bright future alive
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foone · 1 year ago
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Bad idea: Age gap discourse but in a fantasy land where there's multiple races who have vastly different lifespans and life styles.
Is it wrong for a 27 year old human to date a 140 year old stone elf, considering most stone elves don't get out of diapers till their 30s?
Is it wrong for a 80 year old dwarf to date a two year old fire wisp, when fire wisps only live up to 5 years (between the eruptions) and have memories of their past lives, so in a way they're "born" at age 400,000+? That octogenarian dwarf is way younger than the fire wisp that's only physically younger than some of the socks the dwarf has!
Is it wrong for a chronomancer who was never born to date, well, anyone? They are zero years old and infinity years old and negative one hundred and seventeen years old all at once. They look like an old human, sure, with the long white beard and the wrinkly skin, but as far as anyone can tell, they've always looked like that. We've seen the cave paintings.
Is it wrong for a 30 year old lizardman (that's old in lizardman years) to date a human who is 60 years old in biological years (because of aging spells), 26 years old in lived-experience years, but only 13 years old in calendar years? (ie, they were born 13 years ago, but spent some of that time in sideways timelines, so they've lived more years than have passed in their home timeline?)
Is it wrong for a 12,000 year old dragon date a pile of 400 kobolds when kobolds only live like 10 years on average, but reach full maturity in one year? And if you disagree, can you do anything about it? You do know what happened to the last policeman who tried to arrest a dragon, right? Their city is still smoldering, 50 years later.
Is it wrong for anyone to date the time worm? It's the same age, every year. So the age gap can only intensify. If you start dating the time worm when you're both the same age, when do you break it off because you've become too much older than them?
And most confusing of all... What about the fairies? They could be anything between a thousand and a day old, they would lie about their age either way, and they can look like whatever they want. There's fairies we know for a fact have been around since the founding of The City of Towers, who met the silent mother herself, and also look like they're at most ten years old. Is it wrong to date them, or just really uncomfortable for everyone who sees it? And on the other side there's fairies who are "born" (hatched? They come from plants, I'm not sure what the verb even would be. Seeded? Sprouted, maybe) this week who are already appearing like middle-aged men and dancing with widows in what looks like a scheme to run off with her fortune but they never take the money, because what would a fairy want with worthless metal discs? Maybe fairies have a hive mind or genetic memory or reincarnation with full memories, they'd never tell you or give you a straight (or consistent) answer anyway.
Stonefolk are really the only inter-race dating situation anyone can agree on. They're unthinking & unmoving solid rock during the day, so those hours don't count. Thus their "real age" is a nice even half of their true age. So if you meet a stonefolk who was dug out 30 years ago, watch out: that's a 15 year old, and if you're a 25 year human, that's too young for you, even though their dig-date is five years before your birth-date.
EDIT: 2024/01/12: Changed the name of the Stonefolk
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incorrectbatfam · 9 months ago
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Bruce looks like the kind of parents who will hear the children say that they like some food and automatically accept it as the children's favorite meal
And the children will just eat it forever now to make Bruce happy
What food/snacks/fruit they accidentally say "oh this taste good actually" and now are they cursed by it?
Waitress: And what would you like as your side?
8-year-old Dick: French fries!
[19 years later]
Bruce: And here's your dinner, side of fries as always.
Dick, who's been eating fries every day since: Yippee.
———————
12-year-old Jason: *looks at a candy bar*
Bruce: You want it?
Jason: I dunno, it's like three dollars.
Bruce: Hey, don't worry about it, chum.
[11 years later]
Jason: *finds the same candy bar in his belt*
Jason: Well, it's the thought that counts.
———————
14-year-old Tim: Since Alfred's not home I ordered pizza for dinner.
Bruce, working: *grunts*
[3 years later]
*doorbell rings*
Tim: Weird, I wasn't expecting anyone.
Tim: *opens the door*
Bruce, in a Bat-pizza uniform: Delivery for Tim Drake.
———————
15-year-old Steph: *makes waffles*
[3 years later]
Steph: Bruce, why'd you buy so much flour?
Bruce: So you can make waffles.
———————
Bruce: You hungry?
Duke: I dunno, I guess I could go for a smoothie or something.
[later]
Duke: What's with the second fridge?
Bruce: To keep your smoothies.
———————
Damian: From now on, I am a vegetarian.
Bruce: Okay, but what about protein?
Damian: There are plenty of options, like tofu.
[later]
Damian, faced with a tofu truck: Perhaps I should have listened to Brown's advice.
———————
Bruce: *driving*
Cass: *points to a pumpkin patch*
Bruce: We'll see.
[later]
Cass: *goes to her room*
Cass: Dad?
Bruce: Yes, princess?
Cass: Pumpkin patch. In my room.
Bruce: I called in a favor from Ivy.
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lizardho · 5 months ago
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I was like 11-12 years old when I figured out at a boring-ass church activity that you could put rocks into little plastic spoons and then pelt people who annoyed me with them. I did this for the rest of the activity, and at Sunday dinner the next night was bragging about my victory (cornering the mean kid who picked on my youngest brother and pelting him with rocks). One of my cousins was like “no way, that sounds SO fun! Let’s do that RIGHT NOW!” So we grabbed spoons and went and got pebbles from the back yard and launched them at each other.
The problem was my grandma sold her soul for the world’s most resilient plastic spoons so we could launch those fuckers HARD. I gave out welts like candy on Halloween, and I got them back in kind.
So we resorted to taking cover and giggling until we got whacked, then yelping, then returning fire.
My cousin hid in my grandpa’s little fishing boat. It was a good boat, but simple and honestly underused. We didn’t know the little windows on it, meant to keep the wind out of my grandpa’s face while he drove, were cracking. However, they were definitely cracking. Eventually it became obvious and we realized we had been being dumb.
This was NOT the first time in my life I’d been dumb roughhousing and broken something, and I had developed a reputation in my family as being “suicidally honest” so I was the one to deliver the bad news. My grandpa let out a pretty good chuckle and said it was OK, tousled my hair, and asked my grandma to bring me cake. I am not kidding. I learned later he hated his boat and only bought it for his kids’ sakes, since he thought everyone needed to know how to fish. At the time though I was just bewildered and pleased at my good fortune. FINALLY, at long last, being honest and telling the truth about breaking something expensive was getting me cake. I knew if I kept trying it would eventually serve me, and now so had CAKE. I was pleased as could be.
My dad, on the other hand, was livid. He LOVED that boat. He spent several weeks each summer recovering from breaking ribs in that boat every year for about 7 years prior to this incident. He had great memories and memories that boat. So he told my Grandma NO cake for me AND that I’d be coming by this weekend to fix stuff around the house and pay for the broken window with my babysitting/lawn mowing money.
Obviously I was devastated, but that felt more in-line with the way things normally went when I broke something expensive so I just figured it was OK. My grandpa gave my grandma a look and sadly said “Ok, have her here on Saturday to help me with some yard work.”
That Saturday my dad woke me up at 6:00 sharp and drove me, sleepy and bewildered, to my grandpa’s house. He was mumbling under his breath the whole time but he thought he was teaching me consequences for my actions so he was ultimately OK with it.
We get to my grandpa’s house at 6:15. My grandpa is outside with a ladder hanging Christmas lights. The lawn is freshly mowed, the trees and garden are weeded and well-tended to, the carnations in the front yard look immaculate, and my grandpa has this giddy mischievous look on his face. He tells me he was so excited that I was coming over that he couldn’t sleep, so he did all the yard work himself. He asked me to help him put up Christmas lights and decorate the Christmas tree, which I did, then said that because I was such a good helper I could have some pancakes for breakfast. I was sent home with the slice of cake I had been denied the week before, wrapped to keep it as fresh as possible.
The whole way home my dad looked a little miffed, but told me that he was glad I had been honest and was proud of me for helping grandpa. I know he wanted me to Learn a Lesson™️the cowboy way, like he had as a kid, but didn’t have much room to complain since I’d still been Put To Work.
I think that was a lesson for both of us, although I’m not totally sure what it was supposed to show me. I think it was my grandpa’s way of showing my dad that discipline without tenderness doesn’t count as much. He died last year and I miss him terribly, as does my dad. I hope that my story of victory, drama, punishment, and ultimately a secret second victory is meaningful to someone else out there, but if not it still means a lot to me ❤️
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moonstruckme · 8 months ago
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Thawing Out
summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14 | part 15 | part 16
cw: modern au, chronic pain
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice. 
Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later. 
The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache. 
The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits. 
And waits. 
And waits. 
Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags. 
“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”
You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm. 
“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says. 
You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.” 
Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it. 
In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light. 
“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks. 
He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.” 
By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head. 
“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.” 
Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.” 
He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates. 
And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.
Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn. 
“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself. 
Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics. 
And Remus has found many flaws. 
“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!” 
Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes. 
He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level. 
“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again. 
“What the fuck is your problem?” 
Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension. 
“Sirius…” 
“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.” 
Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.” 
“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?” 
“Okay—” 
“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”
“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—” 
“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.” 
You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’. 
Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light. 
“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.” 
Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for. 
“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.” 
Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly. 
It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”
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gaywineauntsstuff · 5 months ago
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Dick Grayson Olympics
Dick has absolutely been in the olympics multiple times by the point he's Nightwing.
Dick just also happens to have like 9 different countries in which he is a citizen. So he competes for a new country every 4 years and every time the olympics is near his phone gets absolute bombarded by a bunch of official teams and recruiters begging him to join.
He is also the world's youngest Olympian and gold medalist in general. (the youngest Olympian on record is 12 but Dick Grayson was beating up grown men by 8 so i'm starting there, he's an overachiever, no I will not accept criticism)
here me out
first one at age 8 right before his parents die, he competed for France
second one at age 12 and he competes for Italy
third one at 16 and he competes for Switzerland
fourth one at 20 and he's with Romania
you get where i'm going with this
There are 6 events and he wins gold in every one of them except one time he showed up hungover, concussed with a stomach flu (he got a silver on the uneven bars bc his vision was so blurry so he did it blindfolded so he wouldn't throw up.)
No one except Tim and Alfred know (Tim bc he's a stalker and Alfred bc Dick needed his help getting to the airport as a child) but he takes a sabbatical from work and does missions covertly in the countries he's competing in (not as Nightwing bc that would be too obvious)
He also refuses to compete for the USA bc he's still bitter about being thrown in Juvie and they can't make him
He leaves every medal by his parent's grave as a promise that he has not abandoned their dreams for him.
When anyone ever figures out he was in the Olympics he just smiles and said he competed for France once when he was a kid (bc its technically true he's only competed for France exactly one time) and he's like really bashful about it and says stuff like "oh even though my routine wasn't perfect as a kid it was still an amazing experience to have with my Mom and Dad." (he is absolutely faking the bashfulness he just doesn't want people to google him and see he's won 15 gold medals before he turned 25 bc then there are questions and he's a relatively private person).
Bruce doesn't know that Dick was in the Olympics because an 8 yr old boy who grew up in a circus would have no idea of scale. (this is based on a random fic I read where a 12yr Dick Grayson did not call Bruce when there was an active gunmen at school -he found out from another parent a week later- but called him absolutely balling, making him rush home from work bc someone stuck gum in his hair.
So 12yro Dick just tells Bruce he wants to go to an acrobatics competition and Bruce is like sure, okay how long will you gone? and Dicks like a few weeks. And because Bruce has no scale of normal parenting things, he does not see this as an issue.
By the time Dicks 24 he just doesn't tell Bruce because he thinks it's hilarious he hasn't figured it out yet. Alfred doesn't tell him bc he's hardcore judging the 'world's greatest detective' very British-ly.
The only Titans that know are Wally and Donna and they are sworn to secrecy.
And yes he is mad bc he likes the women's gymnastics stuff more bc he grew up in a circus and he thinks it looks more fun.
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bainutwater85 · 10 months ago
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can i get nsfw headcanons about any naruto characters? your choice !!
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characters: gaara, kiba, kakashi, shikamaru
cw: cum, anal, vibrators, dick sizes, fem reader with fem parts
a/n: hope u enjoy! also i’m writing for them during the time naruto and hinata got married (?) i know they were like 19-23 or 24
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GAARA !
when you two are alone: he likes when you lay on him n he rubs your back inching his way down to you ass, rubbing it and kneading it in his hands.
twerk on this man, give him a lap dance i swear to god he won’t be disappointed by anything you shake. his eyes will be wide and he’ll have the biggest smile on his face, if y’all are drunk and doing this then you’ll definitely be fucking wherever you are at. Most likely will come in his pants..
his balls are tight and full, not big but average size for his age. Loves when you just lay next to him and invade his space then slipping a hand in his pants to massage his balls; especially when he’s cramping there to.
he’s not much of a sex guy but definitely prefers dry humping over the real dick in the ass thing, if yknow what i mean. you 2 just get the grind on..slow and sensual. & by dry humping— he’s not humping you like a wild animal, just dragging his boner across your leg/thigh. You do the same..just without ur panties (^_^)
Don’t get me wrong..he’ll have sex and release his load in you or on you a few times— he just has a..in between sex drive (?) basically: sex isn’t always on his mind unless you propose to it and if he’s having a rough day (which is almost everyday & barely resorts to sex to get relaxed) anywayss. With that being said i really feel like he likes to take sex slow so your foreplay will last about 15-20 mins and another 20 while he’s kissing every crack and creavice of your body.
⤴︎ i also feel like he’s big into role play. Like yes, i’ll be the princess and you’ll be the evil big bad wizard that needs my love and touch. Or yes you can be the UPS guy and i can be the mom of 2 college and highschool kids during the summer waiting for my dildo to arrive because me and my husband divorced a few months ago
he don’t lick pussy he SUCKS pussy. he don’t give you fast kitten licks he will head straight for the clit and suck on it like a pacifier and rub it when he’s done.
his cum has an easy flow and isn’t too thick but he spurts out a lot. Also average size with an average girth, 6.4 inches at best🙌🏾
KIBA !
biggg ash, GIRTH && LENGTH WISE. i’d say 6.6 at least. n he lovesss it when you whine and tell him it don’t or won’t fit & try to push him back a bit by his abdomen or run. just for him to grab you by the hips/waist and start pounding into you
unlike gaara he will dive in and lick your pussy clean. sorry not sorry, he has no pussy eating technique and does what he saw a man do on a porno he seen when he 12 years old. yeahhhp
why fuck one hole when you can fuck 3? we all say in usion. He’s an anal god & prefers the butthole than the vagina or mouth.
speaking of mouth..he likes a little teeth on his cock, not a lot tho😗 cause it “tickles” he says.
Guys..he does not have breeder balls..i’m sorry :(. They aren’t small they just aren’t as big but they don’t sag either..they’re TIGHT. tight like if he was to go soft rn his ball sacks would be a futon for his penis
also has bad ball cramps and whines so much when you can’t or won’t help him with it. But “its fine” he says, just don’t beg for any dick post- shark week 😒. && to top it all off he is a MASTER MASTURBATER. when he got with you he stopped watching porn and used his imagination with you being the the source of material.
sleeps bare butt ass naked with his balls all out jus free ballin like we’re in the paleoithic age💀
ass eater ass eaterr. he don’t care if you ain’t shower this morning he wants to go in and down. He’s a free and wild man when it comes to sex, LITERALLY.
whines the most and hates to admit it but he just can’t help how tight you are. Like you wrap around him just right and it makes him come on the spot sometimes
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they don’t mind a bush or fuzzy peach. But kiba is the one to cry when you shave or get a wax down there 😗 the others don’t mind if it’s hairy, a little hair never hurt them and plus “we grown” kakashi, kiba and SHIKAMARU say in harmony 😭
+ all of the character listed above
KAKASHI !
always and i mean alwaysss has to have a hand on your ass and tits. it’s not even in a horny or sexual way— he just wants to squeeze and feel the squish of your body. Unknowingly massages them to and you don’t even point it out, then he’s moving his hand looking down at your nipple like “why is it hard?” man you just gave top tier massage that could clear migraines and cramps.
his dick is big and he knows ittt. Sitting on his lap is enough for his dick to go in ‘up mode’ he will nottt back down or let YOU back down when you tease him and try to leave him by hiself with a hardon, no ma’am..you’re gonna finish what you started.
never fully gets naked when you two are having sex. his shirt is off, pants down and his dick coming out the deisgined hole of his boxers. Your bra over your tits and panties pulled to the side.
he lives in the country and rural era of konoha so yes you suck his dick and he eats you out on his back patio, what about it?
doesn’t want you having any dildos, he doesnt know why it makes him so upset you need a FAKE cock to make you cum when you have him. The only sex toys he’ll allow is a vibrator and butt plug. Speaking of vibrators, he so fascinated by the way your plump pussy lips move when you use it😫
preps you all the time, you two could’ve been fucking since the day you got together, he’s still gonna prep you either way cause mans is BIG. he’s more of a shower than grower tho 😗
6.7in when soft and 7inch hard. His girth isn’t wide..it’s more on the skinny side but he reaches places better with the size and length. Once you cried so hard and almost reached your breaking point when his thrust kept getting deeper and slower cause he was hitting the entrance to your cervix and lord was it painful yet pleasing at once.
his balls are average but they sag, not low but they got some weight to em on the inside 😭
SHIKAMARU !
wants to makes movies with you and has made movies with you. But it’s premium tho so only you and him only see it.
always and i mean alwayssss has a hand in your panties or on your thigh. You two would be chillin in the living room, the floor or in the bed (most of the times the bed) and he’ll just sneak his through and just rub your clit. he doesn’t finger you just rubs you slowly, occupied with his phone and your pussy while he’s just strolling through social media and getting you off all at once.
fav position is most likely doggystyle. Why? because if you both are getting your freak on and wanting to watch something..you can do both.
lazy sex..need i say more? he’s got you laying on top of him with his dick barely all the way inside you and giving half ass thrusts while you both are half away and naked at the crack of morning
hates pulling out, says it ruins the good feeling when you’re about to cum. Naw sweetie he just wants to be a dad of a cheerleading team. He might wanna be one and done or 2 kids but the way he cums inside of you..😗 it says otherwise. he doesn’t even pull out till you guys wake up, and if he did so you can go pee and get it out your system— he’s gonna ease way back in and go to bed like that 😭
another sagger and shower but not a grower. He’s average, length and girth. 6.6 hard and 6.6 soft. It’s just limpy yknow?.
also sleeps naked well semi-naked. but you? oh he makes you strip down to your socks and earrings. he wants you skinned down to the toess. He only sleeps in a bare of boxers and time out time he uses rhat as his advantage. won’t even take them off to pull his dick out. he either slips it through the hole of his pants or over the hem of the boxers. Somtimes doesn’t even take it out himself and gets you to do it by grinding it agaisnt you or pulling you closer to it.
cums a lot and cums whenever and wherever tbh. on your face in your mouth, wipes it off for you tho. One thing he lovessss to do is slap his tip on your lips or cheeks he just loves slapping his cock all over your face anyways
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bweirdart · 2 years ago
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EVENT OVER! THANKS EVERYONE WHO JOINED IN U ALL DID AN AMAZING JOB <3 SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR IN MARCH FOR #mARTch OR NEXT OCTOBER (2024) FOR A NEW SET OF PROMPTS!!!!!
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OC-TOBER 2023 PROMPTS!!
general tag: #oc-tober / my prompts: #bweirdOCtober
F.A.Q:
Do I have to draw EVERY DAY?
NO! I highly encourage skipping as many days as you need to avoid burnout! There are 10 main days in the event (marked with a ⭐ star) that you can focus on if you don't feel up to doing every day, or you can choose your own adventure and just do the prompts you personally like!
Do I have to DRAW?
NO! You can also write fanfiction snippets, repost older art that fits the theme, tweet headcanons/backstory, roleplay in-character as your oc ... genuinely anything that fits the theme is OK!!
Can I start early?
YES! I understand some people work at a slower pace and might need a head start! So long as you wait until October to post it, you can start working as early as you need!
I missed the start of the event .. do I have to catch up?
NO! Please don't stress about days you missed, you're allowed to just skip to the current prompt!
RULES:
1. MAKE FRIENDS! The community is the best part of this event .. please try to follow new people, ask questions about ocs you like, compliment people's styles, ask friends to create with you, etc!
2. TAKE IT EASY! Skip a day if you're tired, busy or just not interested in the prompt. You don't have to catch up on it later. This is supposed to be fun, not work!
3. BE KIND! Please think about the people around you - don't give people unwarranted harsh criticism, content warn for themes/imagery in your work that could trigger someone, don't create anything hateful, etc
MORE:
text version / tips and ideas on bweird.art or below ↓
star = main prompts | no star = optional
INTRO WEEK
1: FAVE OC ⭐
-Which of your characters is your favourite right now?
2: NEW OC
-Who is your newest OC?
-Design a new OC right now
3: OLD OC ⭐
-Do you remember the first OC you ever made?
-Is there an OC you haven't drawn in a long time?
4: RE-DESIGN
-An OC who has changed a lot over the years
-Take an old OC and update their design right now
 
BACKSTORY WEEK
5: RELATIONSHIPS ⭐
-Who is important to your OC?
-Do they have a partner?
-Do they have a best friend?
-Are they close to their family?
6: SYMBOL
-What imagery do you associate with your oc?
-Are there any colours, flowers, animals or concepts that symbolize them?
7: PERSONALITY ⭐
-How does your OC behave?
-What are their positive traits?
-What are their negative traits?
-Are they extroverted or introverted?
8: PAST
-What was your OC like as a child?
-Where did they grow up?
-Are there any significant moments from their past that shaped who they are?
9: FUTURE ⭐
-Does your OC have a goal they're working towards?
-What will your OC look like when they get older
-Do you have a planned ending for their story?
PALETTE WEEK
10: pumpkin patch palette
#251604 #1E3807 #5B5E1A #A2A657 #EBA00F #F3ECCC
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11: hot cocoa palette
#520B13 #BB382E #E27E6D #88392C #AF5D40 #E1AFA4
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12: midnight zone palette
#000007 #000049 #183885 #004D4F #0E8788 #FFF1C0
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13: peachy palette
#DE6450 #DB9171 #FFC1AE #FEE1AD #FFF2E0 #D9D8D8
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14: haunted house palette
#552506 #6E25AA #ED690B #F925A0 #8F8BA7 #A6C1AA
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FUN + GAMES WEEK
15: MEME ⭐
-Post memes that remind you of your OC
-Draw your OC as a meme
-Fill out a character meme (classic deviantart style)
16: FOOD
-What is your OC's favourite food?
-What is their least favourite?
-Can they cook?
17: EYES-CLOSED ⭐
-Draw your OC with your eyes closed! No cheating!
-Write a scene without looking at the keyboard! Keep the typos in!
18: SWAP
-Swap the style or aesthetic of two of your OCs
-Species or gender swap AU
-Invert an OC's colour scheme
19: INSPIRATION ⭐
-Is your OC inspired by any pre-existing characters?
-Are there any particular songs/lyrics that inspired something about one of your OCs
-Do you have a dedicated pinterest moodboard for your character?
20: INVENTORY
-What does your OC carry around with them on a daily basis?
-Are there any objects that have sentimental value for them?
-Loot drop for your DnD OC
 
FRIENDS WEEK
21-25:
There's no specific daily prompts for this week, but here are some ideas you can try ...
-Art trades with friends who are doing the event with you
-Your OC interacting with a friend's OC
-Gift art for someone whose OCs you like
-Work together and collaborate on something with a friend
-Roleplay an OC scene together with someone
 
HALLOWEEN WEEK
26: FEAR ⭐
-What is your OC scared of?
-Draw one of your OCs trying to scare the others
27: MONSTER
-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts...)
-Draw a human OC as a monster
-Design a new monster
28: TRICK
-Play a trick on an OC
-Do you have an OC who would play tricks on people?
29: TREAT
-What is your OC's favourite halloween candy?
-Give an OC a special treat to make up for yesterday's trick
30: MAGIC
-Do any of your characters have magical powers?
-Give an OC a magical or cursed artifact
-Create a magic-using OC like a witch or wizard
27: COSTUME ⭐
-What is your OC dressing as for halloween?
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artstennisracket · 1 month ago
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request: thinking really hard about coach!dilf!patrick and how he'd spank bratty!tennisplayer!reader with his racket whenever she mouths off (and then fuck her with the handle. obviously)
tennis coach!Patrick x fem!reader, part 2
cw: nsfw (18+), spanking, object insertion, d/s undertones
You’ve gone through 15 tennis coaches in the past 5 years because you were “uncoachable”. But your parents knew the real reason why, your attitude.
You would question, fight back, and argue about every single little thing anyone tried to teach you. It’s exhausting for them but also for you. You never thought any of those coaches were good enough. They were too nice or too soft or too inexperienced or just too wrong.
No one really meshed with you or your playing style. You had non negotiables. One of those things being your serve. It was unique. You would bend down at an almost uncomfortable angle, bounce the ball twice, before you shoot up tossing the ball the air and hitting it.
It was weird and you didn’t know why you did it that way but you did and it worked. But every coach you ever had wanted you to fix it. Except for Patrick.
He coached you sure but never once mentioned your serve. Maybe it’s because his serve was weird too.
Your parents were surprised you kept this coach for so long, but Patrick just treated you like a real player. The part that really surprised your parents was that you never argued with him or mouthed off.
He was also just really hot. He would come over 5 days a week to your family home, and you guys would practice at your home tennis court.
He was older than you, by almost 12 years. He started coaching you when you were 18 and now you’re 20. You tried to make your passes and did your occasional flirting. Wore extra short skirts and made sure to bend over slowly when you had to pick up a tennis ball.
You were nothing if not persistent so this practice was no different.
You pulled out all the stops. You wore a short white tennis skirt that stopped just below curve of your ass and a tight pink polo top with the top buttons unbuttoned. You didn’t wear a bra so the outside breeze made your nipples perk up under your shirt. And whether or not you were wearing panties was questionable.
Patrick never acknowledged what you were wearing. He just kept his sunglasses on and a neutral face when he said, “Ready to get to work?”
Practice went on as usual until you decided to be difficult on purpose. Patrick had you doing drills serving to hit certain cones spread out on the court. So you just kept missing on purpose.
“Are you good? Feeling okay?” He asks from where he’s stood on the other side of net.
Okay time to turn up the brattiness. You scoff putting your hand on your hip, “What? I can’t miss a couple shots?”
He raises his eyebrows clearly taken aback, “Who pissed in your cereal?”
“I just don’t understand why you keep asking me questions, you don’t get paid to question me you get paid to coach me.”
“Well I don’t like your fucking attitude right now so i’m not coaching shit.” He says dropping his racket into the bin that holds all the tennis balls. He starts to walk off the court, taking his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
Fuck. You need to get him to come back here and take out his anger on you, not cool off with a cigarette.
You yell in his direction, “Yeah? Well you’re so old you can’t even coach for shit anyway!”
He stops in his tracks. He puts his unlit cigarette back in the pack, putting the pack back in his pocket. He turns back in your direction and walks straight to you.
He grabs your wrist and pulls you into the sports shed where your family kept all their sports gear.
He stops dropping your wrist. He pushes his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head. He turns around to face you, standing so close to you, your noses are almost touching. He says just above a whisper, “You think you can fucking talk to me like that? What the fuck do you think this is?”
This is the closest, physically, you guys have ever been. So naturally, you’re a little nervous but happy that your plan is maybe working? You stutter, “I-I um I didn’t think anything.”
He does a once over, looking you up and down. Then he continues, “You think I don’t know what this is? Acting like a brat to get my attention? To get me to fuck you?”
Oh. He saw right through you and somehow that just adds to the butterflies in your stomach.
“That’s not— I never, I didn’t—“
He cuts you off, “Don’t lie to me.”
You shake your head continuing your lie, “no I never— I swear I didn’t—“
Before you can register what’s happening, he sits down in the bench and puts you over his lap. Oh.
He lifts up your skirt and curses under his breath. You weren’t wearing panties. You could feel the rush cool air against your now exposed skin. He rubs his hand over your ass for a second before he picks up a nearby racket.
“You expect me to believe you weren’t acting up to get my attention when your wearing the shortest skirt you own, no bra so everyone can see your hard nipples through your shirt, and your not even wearing panties?” He asks, slowly dragging the tennis racket over your ass.
You nod biting your lip.
Smack.
“Ah—“ You let out a half gasp half yelp when the first smack of the tennis racket lands on your ass.
“Well if you’re gonna keep behaving like a lying brat, then I’m going to have to punish you like one,” He says before landing another spank on your ass.
Smack.
You moan this time as the racket collides with your ass.
“Parading around the court like a desperate slut. surprised you didn’t just bend over for me right on the court. That’s what you really wanted right?”
Smack.
You nod your head letting out another moan.
Smack.
“I asked you a question that means your supposed to answer me.” He says sternly before raising the racket again.
Smack.
“Yes fuck, that’s what I wanted. Wanted you to fuck me on the court, please.”
You anticipate that another smack is going to land on your ass but instead you feel two fingers sliding up your folds and pressing into your entrance.
“Shit, Patrick,” You whine as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of your tight hole.
“You’re already so wet. you really are desperate for me, aren’t you? How long have you wanted me to fuck you?” He asks while he curls his fingers inside of you, pressing against the spongy area.
You groan. It feels really fucking good, it’s hard to focus, “Ah- two years, when you became my coach.”
Now Patrick groans. He adds one more finger inside you, alongside the two that were already in there. “Fuck. Dressing like a slut for two years trying to get me to fuck you. I fucking knew it. Jesus. Made me feel like such a creep watching you. Had to start wearing sunglasses to practice so you couldn’t tell I was staring at you.”
You smirk at that, you knew your plan had to have been working all these years. From your place laid across his lap, you can feel him start to grow hard.
“Well I’m still not gonna fuck you, brats don’t get rewarded.”
You whine at that, “That’s not fair you just said you wanted to fuck me so fuck me please, please just fuck me.”
He bites his lip before he gets an idea. He pulls his fingers out of your hole and you whine at the loss. He grabs the same racket from before.
“Wait what’re you doing—“
He uses one hand to spread your folds, exposing your hole, while using the other hand to line up the handle of the racket. He starts pushing in it slowly, watching closely how your hole grips around the racket.
He groans, “Fuck baby, taking it so well.” He pumps the racket slowly, pulling it so the handle is almost all the way out before pushing it back in as deep as it can go.
You never felt this full before but every time he presses the racket in deep it feels so good. Eventually he starts pumping the racket a little faster. You start moaning uncontrollably, rocking your hips back against the racket.
“Your tight hole is so fucking greedy baby, jesus. Fucking yourself back on it like you can’t get enough.” He moves one hand to squeeze your chest, circling your nipple with his finger.
You can feel your orgasm creeping up on you. The volume of your moans increasing until you reach your release, “‘m gonna cum, oh fuck Patrick.”
He lets you ride out your orgasm before he pulls the wet racket handle out of you. It’s covered in your juices.
You think it’s all over until you hear him say, “Get on your knees.”
So you do. Still a little wobbly from laying down for so long but you get on your knees between his legs. You can see the tent in his shorts now. You’re hoping you’ll finally get to see his see his cock, feel the weight of it on your tongue. You just know it’s huge.
So you open your mouth, sticking our tongue to show that you’re ready to suck him off.
He smirks before he presses the tennis racket handle down your throat, “Good girls clean up their mess.”
You choke a little but try to relax your throat, sucking the handle to clean it off. Once he’s satisfied he pulls the racket out of your mouth, placing it beside him on the bench.
He stands up and you watch as he tucks his boner into the waistband of his shorts. He bends down to whisper into your ear, “Maybe next time if you’re a good girl for the whole week, then I’ll fuck you.”
He stands up heading to the exit the sports shed. He moves his sunglasses back down to rest on his nose bridge. Before he leaves he calls out, “See you tomorrow for 8am practice.”
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fgumi · 5 months ago
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‧.₊˚ ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ my youth is free
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੭ˊᵕˋ੭ synopsis: you broke up with your long-term boyfriend, donghyun, after 5 years. it was amicable and there were no hard feelings; you were just growing in two separate directions in life. despite the nice break-up, you found yourself sad and in need of a pick-me-up. so, you decided to pick up your old love, volleyball. you tag along with your younger brother, woonhak, and check it out. the scene is packed with many good volleyball players like han dongmin.
੭ˊᵕˋ੭ pairing(s): volleyball player!taesan x woonhak's sister!reader, ex!leehan x woonhak's sister!reader ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ genre(s): smau, college life, romance ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ status: ongoing; updating sporadically! ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ a/n: welcome! i'm officially starting this on 250101! laugh, cry, scream, enjoy! pls lmk if you want to be removed from the taglist! ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ taglist: second taglist open! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
‧.₊˚ ੭ˊᵕˋ੭ current tags: @en-dream @heeheesang @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @httpenhoon @r1kification @tkooooop @viller2 @veerooniicaa @lynnimini @peanutbutterjam505 @molensworld @tsukimiday0 @kazemiya @jvngw0nlvr @swanyvess @taylorluvation @kamfaye @anyaunyu @miujunhui @21corydoras @tsanho @miyawwn @dylanobr1ens @ellezra @prettiann @noodlesfeet @ribbioniki @petralovesbonedo @imnotsureokay @soupersaldz @hyukarina @cherrytaesan @yuzuksi @haechology @shenrickyistheloml @pinklemonade34 @heizqo @pinkiwinkiminki @sitdlstarllala @enzstr @wonuziex @defnotsanni @exselily @sirenla @seungheartyou @pumpkg @vveebee @cl4ir0l0v3r @angelzforu (50/50) + second taglist (28/50)
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ twitter profiles
〘 0. prologue; 1. cutie patootie; 2. baby come back; 3. twisty kind; 4. shakespearean; 5. pp is small; 6. still standing here; 7. recovery; 8. bad idea; 9. off the street; 10. stupid, not blind; 11. mystical beast; 12. we listen and we don't judge; 13. just who are you?; 13. holy moly cheesy ravioli; 14. to a fresh start; 15. the prettiest one around; 16. connection; 17. itys; 18. twin flamingo; 19. in every universe; 20. interesting...; 21. shiesty; 22. crimson; 23. pretty girl; more chapters tba 〙
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disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idols. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too!
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daryltwdixon · 3 months ago
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Summary: Being raised by a survivalist father meant learning two things: endure at all costs, and trust no one. And you lived by those rules, even after he was gone, surviving alone in a world that never gave second chances. But enduring becomes far more complicated when a familiar face returns, burdened with a fierce young girl and a mission that was never meant to include you. When you're forced from the only home you’ve ever known, survival is no longer just about the next meal or the next breath—it’s about who you become when there’s no way back. You’ve spent years believing your father’s lessons—that needing people is a sign of weakness. But as the miles stretch on, as survival becomes more than just a fight for the next day, one truth becomes harder to ignore—you can’t live by your father’s rule of trusting no one anymore.
And one man makes following that rule damn near impossible.
Themes: Joel miller x reader slow burn romance, post-outbreak, grief, healing, angst & longing.
Warnings: canon-type violence, death, depictions of grief and trauma, age gap romance, suicide (referenced, not graphic), intimacy and eventual smut. 18+ only MDNI, but I can't control what you do so discretion is advised.
Other: reader is afab, long hair (enough to grab, put up in a ponytail) may be mentioned. no other physical characteristics. graphics do not reflect character description, only used for vibes. Follows Season 1 of The Last of Us. Blend of show and game canon. Picture Joel as you prefer, but I will be mentioning Pedro Pascal's brown eyes. No use of Y/N. In the beginning of the story, time hops are not canon.
mood boards: Bill's Daughter | The Road So Far | You & Joel | A Lonely Day | Her Peace | Teaser Trailer
Prologue
Before: 5 Years Old
Before: 10 Years Old
Before: 15 Years Old
Before: 18 Years Old
Before: 20 Years Old
Before: 23 Years Old
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Now: 25 Years Old
Chapter 1: Joel and Ellie
Chapter 2: Escape
Chapter 3: The Envelope
Chapter 4: Fungus Ain't That Smart
Chapter 5: Kansas City
Chapter 6: The Climb
Chapter 7: Turret
Chapter 8: Strangers
Chapter 9: Spotlight
Chapter 10: Into the Water
Chapter 11: The Suburbs
Chapter 12: Fight and Flight
Chapter 13: Breaking Point
Chapter 14: One Month Later
Chapter 15: Jackson
Chapter 16: Thresholds
Chapter 17: Thinking of You
Chapter 18: Betrayal
Chapter 19: On the Road Again
Chapter 20: The Basement
Chapter 21: David
Chapter 22: Capture
Chapter 23: Blood and Fire
Chapter 24: What Comes After
Chapter 25: Waterways
Chapter 26: What Was Lost and What Was Taken
Epilogue
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Ever After
Four Years Later
more coming soon
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Hey, you beautiful, amazing people.
I don’t even know where to start, but thank you. Seriously. From the bottom of my heart: to everyone who read, liked, reblogged, screamed in the tags, sent me messages, or just silently followed along—you made this story so much more than I ever imagined.
Every comment, every reaction, every little freak-out over a scene made my day (and honestly fueled me to keep going). The way you connected with this story, these characters—it means everything. Writing this was one thing, but experiencing it with all of you? That was the best part.
So, to everyone who stuck with me, whether from the beginning or just recently—thank you for being here. Thank you for caring. Thank you for making this so special.
I love you all. Truly.
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cressidagrey · 3 months ago
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Such A Mystery - Part 9
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 
Warnings: 
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.
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It felt like forever. He knew it wasn't. It must have been minutes until the car door was ripped open and Charles slipped in right next to him.
It wasn’t until the doors were slammed shut behind Charles that Max dared to look at the Monégasque.
His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Charles was still in his racing suit just as him, the suit itself streaked with sweat.
The moment the car door closed, the car started riving.
"Merde," Charles cursed. Max could only agree. "I am sorry, that it took this long."
Max gave a sharp, jerky shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize," he somehow managed to get the words out. "I’m just..." he trailed off, a shaky exhale escaping him. "How could you make it here so fast?" he asked, casting a quick glance in his friend’s direction.
Charles snorted. "Your press officer had a shouting match with Ferrari's,“ he said simply.
If Max wasn’t so focused on not completely losing it, he might’ve been amused with the mental image. But at the moment, he could only shake his head.
Next to him, Charles let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.
"No. You?" he gave back.
"I don't have a bad feeling," Charles said quietly. “Not worse than it has been for days at least.”
Twin Telepathy was apparently a thing as far as Charles and Colette were concerned. 
Quite frankly, till this day, it still weirded Max out. They just seemed to know when the other one wasn't feeling well. 95% of the time, they got sick at the same time. They communicated more easily with each other than with anyone else, and regardless of what game they played...they needed to be put on opposite teams, because otherwise nobody had a chance against them.
Max was well aware of Colette and Charles' strange connection. Even if he didn’t fully understand it. They both had some sort of sixth sense when it came to the other one, and it sometimes felt like they were talking in secret code.
"What’s it telling you right now?" he asked, his voice barely above a rough whisper.
Charles turned to him fully at that, and Max saw the way his eyes swept over him, taking in every aspect of his appearance.
Max could only imagine what Charles was seeing. He felt like a walking wreck, and there was no doubt his appearance was mirroring that.
"Colette is in pain," Charles finally said, his voice strangely quiet. "She’s scared."
That answer felt like somebody shoved a knife into Max’s stomach. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat. “Of course, she is,” he hissed through clenched teeth.
Charles seemed to sense what he was thinking, even without being telepathically connected through whatever the hell Colette and him had going on. The Monégasque reached out and took a firmer hold of his hand, the grip almost crushing.
"Don’t," Charles said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Don’t go there. We’re gonna get to her as fast as we can."
There was a brief moment of silence, as Max tried to collect himself. He focused all his attention on the pressure of Charles' hand on his, and somehow, it actually helped.
"I feel so goddamn useless," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to be with her."
"You want to try calling her before we are in the air?" Charles suggested.
That was not a bad idea, not at all. Max let out a low and slightly shaky exhale, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I…” he had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I’ll try to call her.”
His hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone out of the backpack that somebody had handed off to him, already packed. Regardless of all the drama that had gone on in the RedBull garage during the year… if it really mattered, the people in there pulled off minor miracles.
Within minutes, his entire day - hell, his entire week - had been packed for him, with all the essentials of clothes and everything else he would need.
He had almost forgotten about the phone in his shaking hands, but now he just stared at the screen for a moment. His fingers were trembling so badly that just unlocking the phone was a challenge in itself.
Jimmy and Sassy were on his lockscreen...a picture that Colette had once sent him when he had been away for one of his races...the two of them laying on top of her on their couch...
Every other time Max saw the photo, it made his heart do a little funny jump. Now though, it made his chest ache. It felt like a sharp stabbing pain, and for a moment, he just sat there and stared at the picture.
Then he called her.
It rang. And it rang, and it rang again. With each passing second, that horrible knot in his stomach tightened a little more. With every ring of the bell, it got harder to breathe.
Finally, to Max’s immense and enormous relief, the line connected.
"Hey, Maxie. I put you on speaker," Victoria's voice came over the phone, sounding surprisingly calm.
A shiver of something resembling dread ran through Max, at the sound of Victoria’s voice. But he pushed past the feeling.
His thoughts were once again running wild - was it a bad sign that Colette wasn’t the one speaking to him? Or was he just overreacting..?
“Hey,” he forced the word out past the lump in his throat. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pleading for Colette's voice. Was it selfish that he just wanted to hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay?
"Better now," Colette's voice came, sounding slightly hoarse.
The words were like a shot of adrenaline, and for a moment, Max actually felt a little lightheaded. “Liefje.” He closed his eyes, just hearing her voice sending another wave of relief through him. “Are you okay? How is Bébé?”
"Bébé has decided that they would rather be born today, so I would suggest you hurry up," Victoria said drily.
"Seems like the kid already inherited Max's need for speed," Charles quipped. "How are you doing, Coco?"
"I'm good," Colette's voice replied, and Max could only imagine the eye-roll that was currently happening. He knew his girlfriend, and he had no doubt that she had been glaring at Victoria ever since the phone was put on speaker.
"Where are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly turning much softer. "You're coming, right?"
"Coming," he assured her, his heart aching. "We're coming, I promise."
"I know. I’m not worried." She sounded like she meant it, but Max could easily imagine the anxiety in her eyes.
"You'd better not worry," Charles said, and then added, "I’m keeping him from doing anything dumb."
Max shot Charles a dirty look at that, bt he swallowed down the annoyed protest and focused back on Colette instead. “Just…hold on a little longer, okay?”
"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Colette replied, her voice slightly amused. "I’ll keep our little speed demon in there a little lo...." She broke off and let out a quiet hiss of pain, her voice once again cut off by what Max suspected to be a particularly painful contraction.
“Colette,” he said sharply, all kinds of emotions washing over him, one by one. “Liefje, just…just breathe through it, okay?”
There was a second of panting, then, he heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she finally said. “Just…hurts like hell.”
He swallowed and clenched his free hand tightly into a fist, fighting against the urge to just jump out of the car and start running towards the airport.
Colette being in pain was not something he could deal with.
He heard her take a few more deep breaths, and he just sat there, waiting and listening and feeling absolutely useless.
"How long until you get here?" she asked after a moment, her voice breathless. He could see her in his mind, his sweet girl, sitting on the bed and clutching her belly as another contraction hit her.
"We're not even at the airport yet," he told her, and damn it, why were his eyes suddenly burning. "We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just...hold on a little longer."
"What your dad said..." Colette said with a shaky voice.
"I know," he said simply, the grief raw in his voice. Neither of them were ever really going to get over the two babies they had lost. They had learnt to live with the pain, they had dealt with the heartbreak an grief...but it was always going to be scar for them.
"Max, if something…" she began, her voice a little wobbly. He could tell that she was crying, by the way her breathing got a little more hitched and ragged.
But she suddenly cut off and gasped, letting out an even breath. Another contraction..."Hey, nothing is gonna happen," he quickly said, trying to soothe her. "Nothing. I'll be there soon. I'll be there before you know, and our child will meet their parents. We will be fine, we will get through this. You, and me. Together."
"If something happens," Colette continues. "If..."
"No," he cut her off, the word coming out as a growl. "Nothing is gonna happen. You will not talk that way. You’re going to deliver a gorgeous and healthy baby, and I won’t hear anything else."
"Max..." she protested, but Max wasn’t having it.
"You’re not going anywhere," he said firmly, putting as much steel in his voice as he could. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine, and I will be there soon and I will hold your hand and you can threaten to geld me and all of it will be okay. Just breathe.” 
He could hear the sound of her breathing, deep and even. She was trying to steady it, and Max gripped his phone tighter. He didn’t know if he was trying to hold himself together, or if he was trying to hold on to the sound of her voice.
The seconds ticked by, and then another contraction hit, and he heard her gasp out another ragged breath. Max felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. The idea of her in pain was like an invisible knife twisting a little deeper in his gut, each time.
"We need to go," Charles said suddenly. "We need to get into the plane." The car slowed down at that moment. "Coco, listen to me. I am going to be absolutely fucking furious with you if something happens to you," Charles told her fiercely. 
"Trust me," Colette’s voice said, sounding slightly tired. "I am very, very motivated to stay alive."
That was good. That was a good sign. If she was still being sarcastic and even a little bit cheeky…it was good.
"Just hold on," he told her again, the familiar feeling of helplessness seeping into his bones. "Just keep hanging on, for me. I love you."
“I love you too,” the words were as immediate and as fast as the sunrise each morning. "Hurry up, dammit."
"I’m trying," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m trying. We’re at the airport now. We’ll get there as fast as we can-" he had to stop, when he heard her let out another pained gasping sound, as another contraction clearly hit her hard.
“Goddamn,” he exclaimed, all of his muscles tense with the urge to do something. He wanted to help her, he wanted to be there to comfort her…but more than anything,  he was terrified of losing her. "Liefje, just keep breathing, okay? Breathe and stay calm."
"I’m trying to," her voice was breathless, and he knew that she was probably trying hard to fight the urge to cry out. Oh God, he hated that. He hated seeing her in pain, he loathed feeling this utterly useless.
"Go. Love you," she told him.
"I love you," he told her emphatically, wanting to say something more, but then Charles impatiently gestured at him to hurry up and get out of the car. "I...I’ll see you soon, okay? Just hang on, okay?"
"Yeah," he could tell that she was trying even harder to control her voice, trying to put on a calm and steady front for his benefit. "Just..." she cut off and let out a gasp, another contraction evidently hitting her hard. "...just hurry up before this baby decides to make their way out before you arrive, okay?"
"I will," he promised through gritted teeth. "I will, goddammit, I will, just…hang on."
He heard Colette’s pained panting, and each of her breaths was like a stab in the gut.He hated having to hang up on her
Everything in him rebelled at that. How could he, how could he possibly abandon her like that, how could he let her take on this pain and fear all by herself, without him there to hold her hand...but goddamnit, he had no choice.
He took a shuddering breath and pushed past the urge to scream, to slam his fist into something, anything. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from the desperate need to get to her, to overwhelming panic, to anger at the universe for forcing them apart and for putting her through this pain.
Into the plane they went…it was probably the shortest amount of time between entering a plane and taking off Max had ever experienced. 
Before too long they were up in the air, flying towards Nice.
The minutes ticked by, each one passing by like a century. Max would sit in restless agitation at his seat, his mind racing back and forth. Every thought and memory came back to Colette. He just wanted to be at her side, he just wanted everything to be okay…
And instead he would be stuck on this plane for 6 hours.
He would be stuck on this goddamn plane for six hours. Six hours, each one of them filled with the knowledge that the love of his life was giving birth to their child, and he was not there to support her, to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was okay.
It was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn’t take it, he just wanted to be there, with her. He could vividly picture her, sitting in the hospital bed and gripping the rails, her face screwed up in pain as she fought through another contraction. And he was not there to comfort her.
"Maman is with her. Your sister is with her. Lorenzo and Arthur too." Charles said at that moment. “We aren't there but everybody else is."
"How can you be this calm?" Max asked him, dragging a hand through sweat damp hair.
"Don't mistake calm for not being worried," Charles said evenly, his eyes tracking Max's restless pacing of the plane. "I am worried. For her, for you and for the little one. But freaking out isn't gonna do anyone any favours right now."
"I know,” Max said, his voice still strangled tight with stress. He just couldn't get any of the images out of his mind - her struggling and fighting her way through the pain, looking more vulnerable and pale than he had ever seen her...and he was not there.
“Besides, I shouted at Ferrari’s PR and got it out of my system, so currently, I am feeling quite calm.” Charles said darkly. “I imagine that’s going to change again when I am sure that Colette and the baby are alright.”
Max just stared at him. Charles had done what?
If there was a religion that Charles Leclerc believed in then it was Ferrari.
Charles Leclerc was their golden boy. Their Il Predestinato. There was no good-natured fobbing to be had about Ferrari regardless of what issues there had been had through the years, and there had been a lot.
Charles worshipped Ferrari like a malevolent goddess. He didn’t want to hear any criticism of his team and Max had given up on that a very long time ago. 
Charles and Colette both could be the most stubborn people Max had ever match. The only one who could match their stubbornness were each other. 
"You did what?" Max stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Charles was an absolute Ferrari fan and loyal to the very core…why the hell would he yell at the PR people?
"Why...? What did they do?"
"They weren't even going to tell me that something was wrong with Colette," Charles said darkly. "I knew it. I knew that something was off. But they didn't say anything. It was one of Red Bull's PR Staff that got me out of the cooldown room. Ferrari wouldn't have said anything to me. Ferrari didn't want me to leave either. They wanted to debrief, they wanted me to give interviews,"
Max had to resist the urge to swear. He had been so focused on the fact that he was not with Colette that he hadn't even processed the fact that Ferrari had actually kept her labour a secret from Charles, simply to make him stay and do his goddamn job for them.
"You know that that is not normal, right?" he asked him drily. "I am not telling you that everything is perfect at Red Bull but Christian would never fucking stand for that."
"You know I never expected it," Charles told him, his mouth a thin hard line. "We are the drivers. We are the stars. But we come second. First and foremost, we are assets to the team. What Ferrari wants, Ferrari gets. We drive, we get podiums, we hold the trophies, and we smile for the cameras. Everything else comes second. It doesn’t matter to them. To them, only the trophies matter. "
"That's what they want," Max told him, anger seeping into his voice. "But that's not how it should be. Ferrari is wrong. If something is wrong with your loved ones, they have no right to keep it from you like that. Especially not for the sake of a goddamn interview."
"I know," Charles said, his lips thin with bitterness. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there? We may be the top drivers on the grid, but we drive the car that the teams give us. There's only so much that we can do when the team has power over pretty much every aspect of our career. And believe me, I am going to pay a fucking price for doing what I did. I just don't care at all. It's Colette," he said sharply. "I love all my siblings. I do. I love Lorenzo and Arthur. I would do everything for them. But they aren't my twin. They aren't the second half of me," Charles said simply. "Ferrari be damned."
Max hadn't thought that he was ever going to hear these words out of Charles' mouth but here they were.
"What the fuck did Jos say by the way? What did Coco mean?" Charles demanded.
"He gave an interview to Sky Sports," Max said, fury still embering deep in his gut.
"Of course he did." Charles said, not sounding surprised at all. "What did he say?"
"Confirmed the relationship...and the pregnancy," Max said clenching his teeth. "And if that wasn't enough...he made a...comment about how it had taken us long enough to have a baby."
There was a sharp indrawn breath as Charles absorbed that. "...What?" Charles said after a moment, his voice strangled. "...he made that comment in public? Are - are you serious?"
"I never told him about the two...miscarriages," Max said quietly. "I couldn't deal with whatever well meant advice he was going to have...but I...We lost two babies," Max said weakly. "My father went out there and confirmed our relationship and the pregnancy without talking to either of us. He just made that decision because it's "ridiculous" that we kept it a secret for so long. An it’s making me furious. This wasn't his decision to make. This was ours."
"Yes," Charles said, his jaw clenching. "It was. Your decision. Nobody else’s. He had absolutely no right to do that. Goddamn it, I have never liked that man, but I've never had the urge to punch him as much as I do this very moment."
"You and me both," Max said. The anger he was feeling would have been burning through him like a damn inferno if he hadn't been so worried about Colette.
"This should have come from us," Max repeated quietly. "Not from anybody else."
"It still can come from you," Charles said.
Max paused, looking up at him. "Are you saying we should..." he began uncertainly.
"You want to tell the entire world that you love my sister and that she is having your baby? You have an Instagram account and a phone with an internet connection," Charles said drily. "Tell them the truth. Your truth."
Max opened his mouth and then closed it again. Charles had a point. It was obvious what the news was going to be now if people had seen Jos's interview.
But he wanted to be the one to tell the world. He wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted it to be public but on his public terms. Not his father's.
"Are you ever going to ask my sister to marry you?" Charles asked him suddenly.
The question caught him completely off guard. "...What?" He said blankly, stunned by the change of the conversation.
"You gave her a ring when you were both 18 that you both insisted was only a promise ring," Charles said drily. "Are you ever going to replace it with the real thing?"
He thought back to that ring that still sat on Colette's finger to this day. A simply gold band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond.
He had given it to her in 2016, after his very first Grand Prix win in Spain. He had gone out and bought it that very same day to be exact.
He had bought Victoira a handbag the first time he had scored his championship points...but the first time he had won...he had bought Colette that ring.
"Apparently the baby is only going to have your surname too, because you have an agreement," Charles continued. "Do I actually want to know what that agreement was?"
"We were 18. Both our father's would have probably killed us, if we came to them and told them that we were engaged," Max said with a sigh. The Leclerc's had always been supportive of their relationship but Hervè Leclerc had very much thought that both Colette and him were far too young to get married. 
Jos on the other hand...Max didn't even want to imagine that screaming fit.  "So I gave her that ring and we agreed that..."
"You agreed that..." Charles repeated slowly, silently urging him to continue.
Max let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand through his already messy hair, mussing it up even more. "We agreed that we didn't really need a piece of paper to tell us what we already knew," he said simply. "Colette and I had been together for 6 years at that point, we already knew and accepted that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. It was just a matter of when. So we decided that we didn't need a damn piece of paper to know that we were committed to each other. We already knew that, without a doubt," Max said simply. "It was a promise ring. To love and to cherish, till death us do part. One day we would do it properly, but till then...that ring was a promise."
Charles stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You have been married to my sister for 10 years?" he asked him sharply.
Max winced. Okay. Put like that, it sounded kinda bad. "We never had the actual wedding," he said sheepishly. "We both know it wasn't necessary for us, so...we kinda just...never got around to it."
"I mean, I did ask your father for her hand in marriage when it was clear that he wasn't going to be there...when we eventually did it properly...but...for us that ring was… It was more than enough," Max said quietly. "I knew damn well that I would be with her for the rest of my life. She knew it. We both knew it. And that ring was a symbol between us that sealed the deal. We both knew that it was going to be for forever and always. It was a promise. A promise to always stay by each other’s side. No matter how badly things fell apart around us. No matter how much the world wanted to tear us to apart. We were going to stay together, come hell or high water. We didn't need a paper to prove that to us or the rest of the world," Max said firmly.
Charles stared at him for a couple of long moments, processing this. Max was well aware that, from an outside perspective, it might sound weird. That they had been so young, but so utterly certain that they were going to spend their lives together.
But he and Colette had been together for years. And he had seen how strongly they had bonded over the years, seen what they had been able to deal with as a team, as one, and how they had come through every single thing that the life had thrown at them together.
"You two are utterly ridiculous," Charles finally said drily. "You didn't get engaged because as far as you two were concerned you already got married years ago."
Max winced a little bit and couldn't really refute it. If he were to be honest, he'd have admit it did sound utterly ridiculous, when Charles spelled it out like that.
But that just...that was how badly they had known right from the very beginning that this was it for them. They didn't need a piece of paper to tell them what they already knew.
"I'll ask her properly," he promised Charles. "I already got the ring. But Colette doesn't want to overshadow Lorenzo and Charlotte and I knew that she wasn't going to want to have a big party while pregnant so I figured I would just wait."
Charles was slightly taken aback by his words, before he gave a small smile. "She'll definitely say yes, you know," he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.
Max smiled in return. His heart ached with the thought of her. "I hope so," he said quietly, feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. "I really, really hope so."
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rustyironskillet · 11 months ago
Text
Day 12: Time Travel
“Sooooo Phantom, do ya have any siblings?” Kid Flash asked as he tried to make small talk with the newest recruit to the team.
A few days ago, Young Justice was called to a meeting by Batman where he introduced their new team mate, Phantom. Phantom was a tough looking dude, he was jacked and towered over them all, even Conner!
Batman didn’t give them much information about the guy but apparently John Constentine was the one who suggested him for the team since he needed “community service hours”.
The dude was currently drinking some soda next to the computer as Red Robin searched for any new info on their latest mission. He turned his attention away from the can, and stared at Wally, his red eyes piercing into his soul.
“Why?” 
“Well we are all about to go on a mission together and none of us really know you so I think it’d be best if we all got to know you better,” that was half true. Mostly Wally was just being nosey, but the dude really did make everyone nervous since he was this really tough dude with blood red eyes and apparently was here because John Constentine said he needed community service hours???? Constentine typically say some wild shit, but what the fuck do you mean by community service? Wally knows you can’t use those for school, he’s tried, and what else gave you community service? Juvie and prison!!
Phantom stared at him hard for a few seconds, his eyes searing into the back of Wally’s skull before saying, “Okay fine”.
The answer surprised everyone in the room, I mean the guy had barely even spoken the last few days and had rejected every question about his personal life.
“Depending on how you see it, I have 2 to 4 siblings”
“Is your father a serial adopter too?” Tim joked.
“Yes and no”
“Huh?” 
“It’s pretty complicated,” Phantom shrugged, seemingly deciding to end the conversation there and taking another swig of his drink.
However, Tim, out of annoyances of every attempt to get to know this jerk being thwarted and a bit of confidence his family was more complicated, decided to challenge Phantom’s statement.
“Ehh, it probably isn’t as complicated as my family, we got about 50 more siblings adopted each month, all with lots much trauma”
At this, Phantom narrowed his eyes at Tim.
“I see what your doing, your trying to get me to talk tell you guy more about my family by acting like yours are more insane”
“Am I?” Tim asked, trying to hide the shivers going down his spine from the way Phantom was staring at him.
Phantom to a huge swig of his soda, emptying it and throwing it into the garbage, before fully turning to Tim.  
“You’re lucky I am always good for competitions, now sit down this is going to take a bit”
Tim gladly obliged and soon everyone sat around Phantom as if it were storytime in kindergarten.
“Okay, so at first I only had an older sister and my parents” Phantom began, “but then they died because of a mistake I made and I had to move in with my evil godfather”
Megan raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t a godfather someone who is very close to the family? Why would your parents choose an evil person?”
“‘Cause my dad was oblivious to this and though they were good friends even though the dudes tried to kill him multiple times”
“I see,” Megan lowered her hand, no less confused.
“There I went mad with grief and had him remove my humanity and tried to kill all of humanity”
“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Wally joked.
“You tried to kill all of humanity? Why weren’t we told of this when it happened?” Kaldur'ahm asked.
“That was in a different timeline, I was a big enough problem that they gods tried to kill the younger version of me to stop me, so to avoid dying, my younger version decide to try to defeat me and the only reason he did was cause I was underestimating him,” Phantom emphasized the last part because he had to stress he didn’t not lose to a 15 year old boy because he was weaker than him.
“What happened next?,” Artemis asked, completely inraptured in the story.
“I was then imprisoned for sometime before escaping, causing problems and then realizing that causing younger mean the same pain I experienced won't bring my loved ones back,” Phantom continued to explain, “so I am now going to therapy, doing community service, and got the majority of my powers taken away”.
“Is your therapist open to seeing new patients?” Konner asked.
“No, but this timelines version of my sister is and she has a lot of experience so I can give you her number instead”
“Sure, that’ll work”
“Okay,” Phantom said before writing her number down and handing it to Konner, “The thing is I can’t go back to living with my real parents because they don’t know that I am Phantom so I have to go back to living this timelines version of my godfather”
“You gotta be kidding me” Tim groans.
“Exactly what I said!!” Phantom put his arm up defensively, “Fortunately, this version is a little better, he is no longer tiring to kill my dad and has stopped chasing after my mom, he did clone the other of me and now there is a genderbent version of him but my godfather treats her like a princess and will not stop spoiling her, which I am also guilty of”
Phantoms continues to explain more and in the back of Tim's mind he remembers he was supposed to be doing something but honestly this conversation was too good to care.
“Anyways that's how I technically have 2 to 4 siblings, Jazz and Elle are permanently my sisters and I love them so much, and even though the other Jazz is technically the same as this Jazz, I still think of her as someone else, someone I miss dearly. Also if I considered this Jazz my sister, I guess I’d have to considered the other me as my brother”
“Damn bitch your family is crazy” Wally said, happy he finally managed to get through Phantom’s tough skin.
As they finished up their storytime, the Zeta-tubes activated and Red Tornado and an upset looking Batman walked to the group.
“You all were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago”
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