#then who's to say others can't do the same to his friends?

[thepitlanepress]

I DON'T LIKE IT –

↳ lando norris + bestfriend!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: im actually in a lando phase (maybe its bc i f1 is gone for months) but its effecting me so much so im blessing you all with JEALOUS/POSSESSIVE LANDOOOO AHHEHE. merry christmas my lovelies <33 (also if this is bad im sorry i was extremely tired when i wrote this lol)

usually you don't like going out with lando. the clubs, partying, drinking it wasn't exactly your scene.

so when he insists you come out with him to celebrate the constructors championship, you can't exactly say no. hence, the short fitting black dress, and nicely done, hair and makeup that you've put on. when you go out, you go out, it just doesn't happen very often.

"are you nearly done?" lando's voice calls out from the living room as he waits for you.

"yeah, i'm coming now," you call back, walking down the stairs and mentally preparing yourself to talk and interact with people.

you grab the car keys off the small table in the hallway and make your way into the living room your footsteps announcing your presence to lando, he turns around and slightly falters in his movements when he sees you.

"uh, wow, okay," he says looking you up and down slowly, his eyes raking over your body.

"what?" your brows bunch and you look down at your outfit. "i thought it looked good, is there something wrong?"

"uh... no, no, you look amazing, i just wasn't expecting you to look so nic-"

"you weren't expecting me to look nice?" you raise your voice playfully.

"no, no, no i- uh- no- look... shit," lando mutters looking down and shaking his head. "you look amazing, seriously. i just forgot how well you can pull off a black dress."

you smile, and chuck the keys towards him, "i can pull off anything lando norris, even you. and that's not something everybody can do." you wink and walk back out through the hallway to the car.

"you can pull off me?"

"yeah, not every girl can have lando norris on her arm and still be the centre of attention. there are perks to being your best friend you know."

"and there are perks to being yours," lando says unlocking the car and sliding into the drivers seat. you feel the safest when he's driving, always trusting him when he's behind the wheel.

"oh really?" you ask looking over at him. "like what?"

"you," he murmurs backing out of the driveway. you don't hear him though, too distracted by a text you received from your sister.

–––

he didn't like it, you could tell. was it the murderous looks he was sending in the direction of the guy's - who's name you've already forgotten - or was it the looks he was sending you, heated and something else? both probably.

he wasn't even focused on the crowd around him dancing and drinking their nights away.

when the guy started getting too handsy that is when you felt lando's hand wrap around your waist and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach - which you promptly ignored.

"leave her alone, mate. she's mine," lando's voice comes out harsh his anger directed towards the man who steps back apologising - typical of him to only step back when another man steps in.

"oh sorry, i didn't know," he slurs and walks off, most likely to go puke in some poor person's handbag.

you're about to spin around in lando's arms and thank him for rescuing you but you stop short at the expression on his face. "what?" you look down at your outfit. "is it the same thing from earlier? what's wrong?"

"i don't like it."

"don't like what?" you ask furrowing your brows.

"when other people touch you," he responds quietly his voice low and tempting. thats new.

"oh," you reply slightly dumbfounded. in all your years of knowing lando norris you've always had hidden feelings for him, sure there were points when said feelings were buried deep deep down, but they were always there.

and you always thought they were never reciprocated but they way lando is looking at you right now is... something new. something you like... a lot.

"i don't like people thinking they can just touch you. they can't. because you're mine not theirs. you're my best friend. you're my person. you're not theirs to touch or hold or flirt with, because you're mine."

his arms tighten around your waist as if he's expecting you to run away at any moment.

"oh my," you breathe. "i don't know what to say."

"tell me you feel the same way, tell me that i can be yours, because you're mine, and i'm not letting you go anytime soon."

"possessive are we?" you chuckle trying to diffuse the tension because he's probably drunk, he's going to wake up in the morning and apologise about this insisting he doesn't know what he was talking about and how sorry he was.

its happened so many times before.

your heart gets crushed every time. so you don't go out with him to avoid it.

but tonight this feels different.

"i haven't had a sip of alcohol tonight, this is the most clearheaded i've ever been in a long time... please talk to me."

"lando," you whisper. your heart is teetering on the edge of being shattered to pieces and finally telling the truth. you're walking a thin line between the two hoping to fall on the right side. "i don't want this to be like those other times when you wake up in the morning apologising for what you say."

"i never meant those apologies. i remember all those nights, i lied," he breathes swaying with you to the music. "i freaked out in the morning because you would always want to talk about what happened, and your face was always so distrusting so i shut it down pretending i didn't know what happened."

"really?" you're tilting on the line, swaying from side to side waiting for the words that are going to make or break you.

"really. i've been in love with you ever since the day you stopped to pick a flower that reminded you of me."

"lando," you give him a look. "that was like the second time we met."

"and i've been yours ever since." he smiles at you, his eyes filled with clear adoration, which quickly turns to a pissed off look when someone steps up behind you and asks for a dance. "piss off mate, we're clearly talking."

you smile and don't even bother to look back at the man, everything you've ever wanted is standing in front of you and offering himself on a platter for you. and you're tired, so tired of staying on the ledge between friends and more,

so you take the leap.

pulling him imperceptibly closer you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly whispering in his ear, "i'm yours too."

you can physically feel his body relax and mold around yours - a perfect fit of course.

if you fall, it will hurt for sure, but this moment, right now; flying with him, together, will be worth it if you do.

2024 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works

[pickinglilahs]

Okay, let's unpack this response here

TL;DR: 'weak and surface' level is exactly how I would describe prevs "obliteration". I'm not convinced THEY read the books. Or maybe they're just another TERF, considering that's how it reads. I completely disagree with Harry naming his kid after Snape. The ONLY explanation I can think for it is that JKR has no idea what love is (which is also cannon, as far as I'm concerned)

First: idk what book this person read, but Snape's obsession with Lily was creepy to the extreme. That their friendship started by him all but stalking her and Petunia should have been red flag #1. I mean, sure, he was a traumatized kid without friends, but that doesn't absolve him of his continued obsession. He literally stood outside the Gryffindor common room, refusing to leave, until she came out to talk.

And yeah, he did switch sides out of guilt. But he canonically didn't give a damn about Harry. If he was actually trying to protect the kid, he would have done more than bully and abuse (occlumency lessons anyone?) the kid. Teaching at Hogwarts was never about redemption. It was about staying out of Azkaban. (And Dumbledore's manipulation, but he's a whole 'nother can of worms)

Second: the books actually say that Snape was 'up to his nose in the dark arts'. He was an active participant. He didn't just 'hang out' with to-be-DE, he WAS one. He joined up of his own free will. He became Voldemort's RIGHT HAND. He didn't regret calling someone a mudbl***. He regretted that it was Lily.

And Snape CANONICALLY attacked the marauders just as much as they went after him. Just because they went after him first in that ONE memory, doesn't mean he didn't instigate too.

And let's talk about the werewolf incident for a minute because i am sick and tired of Snape Apologists using this as an excuse. That was NOT planned. That was a lapse of judgement on Sirius' part alone (yeah, fucked to hell and he is fully responsible for that). At the same time though, NO ONE MADE HIM GO. Snape was given a vague instruction and he was so focused on 'getting back' at the marauders that he put HIMSELF in danger. That is just as much on him as it is on Sirius.

Then the sexual assault? This is another common thing I see and it took me forever to figure out what it was even referring to. The pantsing? You cannot tell me he was the only one that happened to. If the levitating spell was really as popular as it's stated, this incident wasn't special. I'm willing to bet Snape did it to others too.

Third: Lupin not taking the wolfsbane. Yes, serious lapse in judgement. He also just saw Peter and Sirius on the map. The argument of it being criminal and a ticking time bomb is honestly werewolf prejudice and exactly why Remus has such a hard time finding a job in the first place. Way to go. You've discovered discrimination.

Fourth: Get McGonagall's name out of your fucking mouth. She is CANONICALLY shown NOT showing prejudice and treating EVERYONE by the same standards. And, did you forget that 'Moody' here was actually a death eater in disguise? No duh he's using cruel and unusual punishments??? Full of abusive teachers my ass.

Fifth: What do you mean the kids weren't scared for life? I do believe those CHILDREN will carry that trauma with them for the rest of their lives. Saying that it didn't break them is cruel and completely dismisses the VERY REAL pain and suffering that they went through. They are real heroes because they OVERCAME their trials. Not all of us out here in the real world are so lucky.

Lastly: yes, comparing CHILDREN who DID see the error of their ways to an ADULT who had to be CONNED into doing the right thing is laughable.

And saying Regulus accomplished nothing? Disgraceful. Of course it took a catalyst for him to change his ways thats how redemption arcs work.

If you made it this far, I hope you have a good day. Believe whatever you want, obvy I'm not going to change anyone's opinion. You can't MAKE a person understand. Still, it's nice to rant and remind myself how nice it is that I live in my own little corner of the fandom where I don't have to see this bullshit on my dash

okay, hold my drink *hands u cursed ancient goblet full of mead* i gotta talk my shit for a second.

ive been seeing a lot of severus snape love recently. and this is fine, obviously, y'all can love whomever you want. but. i need to rant or i will explode. if we're talking about canon. severus snape spends his adult years, seven books of it in fact, abusing children. and his excuse for this is the girl he loved (tho not enough not to join a group actively trying to exterminate her) fell for the hot jock instead of him (a tragedy indeed, i weep 4 him, i really do). and also she died, which, admittedly is very sad.

it is simply crazy 2 me 2 look at that and think *romance* or *genuine care and affection*. LIKE. fo real. snape calls her a slur in public, apologizes in private, hangs out with dudes who commit hate crimes against her friends (CANONICALLY, she says "you've been hanging out with that douchebag Mulciber, how could you do that after what he did to Mary???" this is not a direct quote but like, it's close enough). lame. loser behaviour.

"Oh but what about regulus" i can hear you say "he loves James potter but snape doesn't love lily???" well. idk. maybe. bit different tho, innit? due to james not being the demographic regulus is attacking (which doesn't make regulus a better person but does make the dynamic between him and james different). ALSO. Regulus chooses to turn against voldemort without hope for anything in return. snape doesn't seem to give a shit about voldemort, he's just sad he's not gonna get to bang lily evans. he switches sides for that reason alone. also doesn't care about what happens to her husband or her son which like. considering lily would be pretty fucking destroyed if they died. once again points to my whole, he doesn't really give a shit about her, theory. lame. loser. behaviour.

also. im sorry. I"M SORRY. but what snape does to neville? to hermione? to harry? gross. a grown ass man out here telling an eleven year old neville he's worthless or hermione she's ugly and annoying. or spilling harry's potion and refusing to grade him for it???????????????

reg and draco are children when we see them at peak suckage and therefore they feel like they can be redeemed much more compellingly (CAN be, not SHOULD be, not HAVE to be, just narratively i think they are easier to turn into interesting, sympathetic characters). but snape? snape grows up into a garbage adult. like he doesn't get better. and again, the only real excuse we're given is his obsession with lily. not very demure. not very cutesy.

ALSO. yall remember that time he got a destitute, struggling Remus Lupin fired from the best job he ever had just because he felt like it? remember that time snape weaponized Remus's lycanthropy and people's prejudice against him just cause. like. literally just cause??? his ego was bruised after the shrieking shack incident so he was like "get wrecked Lupin I'm going to tell everyone your secret so you will be forced back out onto the streets" DO YALL REMEMBER THAT BITCH ASS MOVE????????? THAT HE DID AS A FULL ADULT.

IN CONCLUSION, this is silly and, of course, like i said at the start, everyone can have their own thoughts and feelings about characters, but i simply needed to interject here on behalf of snape haters everywhere because i feel like so much of snape's shitty behaviour as an adult during a time when he was really under no duress and was very safe and cozy, is ignored. and my hater heart just cannot let that stand.

[nlovesbjh]

꒰ 마크 ꒱ ── cherry beer 𖥔 synopsis. . . mark would've never guessed that he'd spend his free time on some college party making out with a pretty girl

𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑑 마크 ／ reader ៸៸ college au suggestive ⟡ ⌢ . making out drinking mark loves ass now is playing! . . cherry bomb by nct 127

𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝒩. im so obsessed with mark the past week guys this is getting out of hand so i had to write it. also not proofread and everything is happening super fast in this im sorry lol

mark wasn't used to be in a place like this, he wasn't a party typa guy at all to say at least, but there he was. he could spend friday night to study and maybe produce something for his next class, but his friends wanted him to go to that frat party so bad, they were annoying him for the whole week. now he was sitting on the couch, his ears hurting from the shitty music those frat guys were playing, couple that sat right next to him were touching each other and he almost spilled his drink on him. fucking perfect.

"hey, why are you here?" donghyuck comes to him from behind, wrapping a hand around his friends shoulder. why the fuck is he asking that, he was literally the one who drugged him there and then left to go get drunk with some girls that won't even look ar him for once. mark was annoyed. he could be in his room, watching new episode of his favorite show, but no. it was all donghyuck and jisung's fault.

"because you left me to get some pussy?" mark rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair when he stood up. he followed donghyuk even if he was mad at him, there was nothing else to do at that shitty party anyway.

"hold on a minute, you were the one who said you'd be somewhere in the house not wanting to talk to girls…"

"because they do not care about you or me. dude, you seriously think those girls, looking like they just came from 'mean girls' movie would care about you?" mark chuckles at his friend's naivety. that was just stupid of him thinking that they care. "have you seen how they were all over jeno? and now they're probably having a threesome or something.."

"gosh, why are you like that?"

"like what? not blind of someone's pretty facade that they built just to get rid of the nerds like us?" mark leaned back on the wall when they got outside, breathing deeply. fresh air helped him feel better, he wasn't feeling that bad now after he finally left that crowded room that smells like alcohol and sweat. nasty.

"you're too serious," donghyuck took a sip from his drink and waved him off before he walked away. mark saw jisung smoking at the backyard with some stoner guys from the campus he saw before a few times. obviously hyuck went there to get high like it would bring some fun into this event.

mark was staring at his phone, scrolling through his discord chat with other friends, seeing they were playing minecraft. he would play it too if he wasn't there. he couldn't leave this house without hyuck and jisung though, he wasn't a shitty friend after all. they were drunk and high and he didn't want anything to happen to them.

he didn't hear when the door opened and only when someone quite literally bumped into him and almost fell, he saw you. his phone almost slipped from his hand, but that didn't matter now. mark's hands quickly wrapped around your waist, holding you in place so you wouldn't fall on the ground. "yo, are you alright?"

"yeah, thanks." you nodded, looking up to see who saved you from falling. trying your best to get your hair out of your face, you saw mark. you knew him because you shared one class together when you both were on your freshman year, after that you were only looking at him from time to time at campus. or in cafeteria. or when he was ordering his coffee in the morning before classes at the same coffee shop you always went to. "im bad at drinking, had one fucking beer and can't stand straight already.."

"why did you drink then?" mark asked. his hands still were on your waist, holding you in place with a gentle grip. he looked at you, searching your face and eyes, something about you were super familiar but he couldn't quite understand what. like he saw you somewhere before. and you were pretty. mark's gaze dropped to your lips, lip gloss looked so shiny he was wondering how'd it taste and how'd your lips look all swollen and messy… what the hell? why was he thinking with his dick right now, that's not mark lee. something about you just brought this side of him out and he couldn't help it. so stupid.

"because this party is fucking boring!" you rolled your eyes as you heard mark's question. in all honesty you came to this party to have fun and relax after a stressful week of studies and maybe hookup with someone, but music was shitty, guys were ugly and your friends decided to get high for some reason and you weren't feeling like it. you drank one cherry flavored beer and since you're not good with alcohol, it was enough for you to go outside to get some fresh air before you could've done or said anything weird that you'd regret later. "aren't you bored, mark? that's why you're outside, yeah?"

"how do you know my name?" mark's eyes widened slightly, now he tried so hard to remember where he could possibly see you that you even know his name. you. hot girl in those fucking jeans that were hugging your ass perfectly and low cut top, he felt like he was in some teenage movie where a popular cheerleader girl allowed a nerd like him to touch her and there'd be happy ending where they ended up together or something. some stupid shit his cousin would probably watch.

"we had art class together a few years ago, you sat right infront of me and i couldn't see half of the desk because of your big head," you explained, standing straight and making sure your hair and outfit looked presentable. even though you weren't about to fall anymore, you didn't want to escape from mark's grip on your waist. you didn't want him to let go either, it also seemed like he forgot that he was touching you.

"oh! sorry dude, my bad.. um," he finally let go of your waist, making you pout slightly which he didn't notice. his hand comes to the back of his neck as he rubs it awkwardly. "how'd you still remember me?"

"can't say i didn't like that big head of yours covering the view, so i asked your friend… ugh, what's his name?" you genuinely couldn't remember the name of the guy that you asked for mark's name. he looked like he was about to cry back then when you came up to him. "the emo looking kid."

"jisung."

"i guess? whatever. i asked him for your name, poor boy looked like he was about to piss himself." you both chuckle.

"wait, you asked for my name? why?"

"you're cute," you shrugged, looking up at him. the distance between you two was small, you could smell the mix of perfume and alcohol coming from him, his hair looked soft and the only thing you wanted to do right now was run your hands through it while you kiss him, leaving him all breathless and shy. "the reason why i haven't talked to you since then is because i thought you were too busy studying.."

"too busy for what?" mark interrupted you, his cheeks now flashed slight red as he noticed your gaze on him. and when you called him cute.. he just had to believe you, there was no sign that you were lying or anything like that, he thought you'd never make fun of him too. just felt right.

"dating? fucking? not sure."

"you wanted to fuck me?!" mark was shocked, he almost yelled so you had to cover his mouth with your hand to shut him up so nobody would look at you two.

"shut up, idiot. gosh, why are you so pathetic, that's hot.." you truly didn't mean for the second sentence to come out of your mouth, but by the look in mark's eyes you could tell he was more shocked and confused now. you put your hand down, clearing your throat as you looked away. "still do, by the way."

"what?"

"still wanna fuck you, mark."

oh, he wasn't expecting that. what was he supposed to do? or say? maybe he just needs to shut up and stay there quietly and wait before you say something? there was a lot of thoughts in his head, gaze flicking from your face to your boobs. yeah, he was still thinking with his dick.

"wanna make out?"

"what?!"

"are you deaf or something?" you rolled your eyes at him once again, turning your head to look at him and wait for his answer. yeah, you liked mark. he was cute, awkward and oh damn you loved nerds and he was the hot one, obviously you wanted to make out because you were at this party for that at the first place. and you were a little drunk, so why not? "if you won't answer i'll just kiss you.."

"i want to," mark swallowed hard, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before looking down at you. "what do i do?"

"oh my god, mark! have you ever kissed a girl in your life?" one of your hands wrapped around his shoulder while other comes to the back of his neck to bring his face closer to yours. you couldn't wait, your mouth quickly covering his, tasting a strong taste of beer on his lips. mark closed his eyes, standing there and letting you do all the work. he didn't even know where to put his hands, honestly. he was afraid you wouldn't like him touching you even though you two were kissing. and he still couldn't remember your name. fuck.

you pulled away, taking a breath before smiling at him. your smile was so pretty, mark could've sworn he almost faint. "you can touch me, i can tell you want to touch my ass."

"are you s-serious?"

"cute." was the only thing you've said when you pulled him for another kiss. the hand on his shoulder slipped down his arm and you brought his hand to your ass, mark's eyes widened and he almost moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth slightly more so you could slide your tongue inside. the wet sound of your messy kiss was making mark's head spin, his other hand moving up to your waist as he pressed his back to the house's wall. the contrast between your hot body, warm lips against his and the coldness against his back was definitely doing something to him.

mark felt kinda bad though. he liked kissing you, liked knowing that you were attracted to him, who wouldn't be happy if they were him? you — pretty girl from his university, hot as fuck as we speak, were attracted to some nerd like him? what a fucking win. he loved touching your ass too, it just felt right. so soft comparing to the rough fabric of your jeans, fits perfectly in his hand. but he still couldn't remember your name. he didn't want to become one of those jerks who's fucking a cute girl without even knowing her name and then leaving. yeah, you two weren't even fucking, but kissing you was nice and he liked that cherry beer flavor on your tongue when you licked his lower lip. so fucking hot.

he couldn't believe a girl like you could possibly like someone like him and that was one of the reasons why he didn't want to let go without remembering who you were. he wanted to take on a date? yeah. date you? maybe. damn, he doesn't even know you, but for him that was literally the last thing that matters right now. your lips were soft, the way your hands run through his hair and pulled them slightly… oh shit. when he felt your lips on his neck, teeth rubbing his gentle skin slightly as you pressed more kisses down his neck, mark was gone. down bad. in that moment he was pretty sure he wanted you all to himself and that right now he was the luckiest man alive.

"what's your name?" he choked out between kisses you shared, eyes still closed and his hand still squeezing your ass. you chuckled, finding his behavior adorable.

"y/n."

taglist: @spacejip @peterm4rker

[elene78-blog]

I have read some comments about the stress that Cat, Laila and Jeremy cause Jean by trying to find out about her situation. I've read others saying that the way Jeremy informs the group about things that Jean tells him is horrible. Sensitive information about your experiences.

They are negative opinions and I find this super interesting.

I can see a clear contrast between the way the Ravens act and the way the Trojans act here.

The Ravens were intentionally ignoring Jean's situation. We can say that they knew something was happening. They have seen Jean beaten to the extreme. They have seen him continually injured, to the point of saying that “he has fragile bones.” Regardless of whether or not they knew Jean's age when he suffered from AS, they generated rumors that could do a lot of damage. They continue to feed them now.

Let's not fool ourselves. The Ravens KNEW someone was hurting Jean to the extreme. His response was to ignore it until it was normalized. They only talked about it with the intention of fueling the torture.

In response, Jean also normalized it.

In contrast to this, we have Trojans, which react in the opposite way.

The Trojans clearly see that Jean has suffered the unspeakable. They see that Jean has great difficulty adjusting. They see that Jean has been tortured when they see his scars. Jeremy finds out some things and discreetly passes it on to his closest friends, who are also the people closest to Jean in this complicated situation. This information is kept in a closed circle, which is the Trojans. It doesn't come out of there (that we know of).

Many people criticize this act.

I think what is important here is the intention with which the Trojans and Jeremy seek this information.

The Ravens interfered to hurt and create a harmful environment. The Trojans intrude to validate Jean's pain and create an environment appropriate to his current needs.

Let's face it; Jean needs help, but he is in a very difficult situation to acquire it, especially because of his own brainwashing. People who have lived with people who want to hurt themselves will know that these people tend to hide the problem (They don't see it or they think there is no solution), and this is one of the biggest difficulties in helping them.

If you don't see there is a problem, you can't help.

If the Trojans didn't meddle, Jean's pain wouldn't be validated. The message would be very similar to that of the Ravens: “we don't care. You don't matter to us”, therefore, Jean would continue normalizing his situation.

By getting involved, you are sending another message: “I care about this situation. What you have suffered is not normal. “You matter and I want to help you, even if I don’t know how.”

Trojans do not fuel rumors. On the contrary, they want to clarify them so that Jean feels accepted (Lucas does not, but because there is an obvious sentimental conflict).

What I want to say is that, although it shocks us and we don't see it as entirely correct, Jeremy's performance is, in part, appropriate. He tries to find Jean's need and conveys it to the people closest to him (Cat and Laila, with whom he lives) so that they know that there are limits and a series of problems to deal with that Jean does not want to confront.

The goal is to “be careful” and “watch out” for a catastrophic reaction. The goal is to create a pleasant and appropriate environment that can “push” Jean to seek the help he needs.

With the little information Jean gives them, the Trojans are creating a safety net that can pick him up and propel him toward help.

Kevin, Renee, Abby and Wymack did something similar. They would not allow Jean to return to the Ravens even though that was what he wanted. They ignored his consent because they knew he was not of sound mind.

Jeremy, Cat and Laila are doing exactly the same thing. Jean may not like it (actually, I don't think Jean is against this, correct me if I'm wrong), but this is what he needs FOR NOW.

Since Jean has had great problems with consent and limits, the fact that the Trojans talk about what Jean experienced without his consent seems like an attack against him, but let's not forget that this will not always be the case. This is an exceptional circumstance.

The ultimate goal is for Jean to be able to say no and establish clear limits, developing autonomy. But right now, if given that facility, we know what would happen.

Jean would not seek help, he would continue to feed her brainwashing, he would continue to think that he deserved the worst and... most likely, one day he would end his life, without caring about Kevin's promise.

Let's not confuse talking about a person's situation discreetly to their close circle with the sole objective of HELPING and SEEKING SOLUTIONS, with generating rumors to DESTROY him.

Let us also not forget that this is a TEMPORARY situation until Jean regains his personal autonomy. The boy is brainwashed. Until this goes away, Jean needs a few very very gentle (keep that in mind, Abby) slaps of reality to wake up.

This is what Cat, Jeremy and Laila are working on in hopes that Jean will get the boost he needs ON HIMSELF.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Merry Christmas to you too my wonderful friend!🎄💗

Aww poor Ben. I love how we start with shading in his past Christmases compared to what he's starting to experience now with the reader. We come at it from the same angle of headcanon, that Ben's mom was the only person who truly loved him in his family. So it was such a good detail that after she died, Christmases became just more of the same toxic/apathetic atmosphere with his father, compounded by the impact of his mom's death.

Thank you! I love this headcanon and I really hope that in the prequel series "Vought Rising" that we're able to see a little more of Ben's relationship with his father and hopefully let us learn more about his mother. I know that this headcanon is a little "dean-like" but I think it also kinda plays into the "angel in the house" phenomenon that started in the mid to late 1800s. But the headcanon to me, makes sense. Ben has so many issues with his dad and I honestly don't think that if his mother was around that Ben's father would give him such a hard time or allow Ben to grow up in that kind of enviornment.

I also wanted to give Ben some "happy" memories from his childhood that he could compare what the reader was doing for him to something that was familiar and something that resonated with him😊, something about Christmas that was "familiar."

Lmfao come on, Ben. Let's not take this out on others. 🤣

He is the KING of taking it out on others LOL 😂 He also takes it out on Hughie in this fic and I felt so bad doing that to Hughie, but it is so in character for Ben 😒

Wow, that's so interesting. Taking a trip literally through Memory Lane and walking through his family's mansion. I've never thought about that before, but I imagine it would be one of those things that Ben, for the longest time, couldn't bring himself to sell, but also couldn't visit. Like a mausoleum of his old life.

I use this headcanon in my other series Madness, (same with Ben's mother), but to me it seems to make sense. That Ben would have a family mansion somewhere that is full of terrible memories from his father being a total jerk to him and never wanted to set foot inside. "Like a mausoleum of his old life" EXACTLY! It's just a big drafty old house that Ben can't go into because even though he says he's not afraid of anything, he can still feel his father's disapproval and disappointment, and going "home" to where he grew up would only make it worse.

Ben doesn't know what a home is because of what his father did, and now the reader is slowly showing him what it means. I also low-key wanna write the fic of her and him coming back to his house and him being hesitant and her just wandering around in complete shock. 🤔

You're killin' me, friend!! 😭😭

Girl, I'm so sorry 😭😭😭 I had to 😂 It's really just pouring on the hurt and he just really loved his mom 😭

Lmaooo deeply relatable. I feel like it would be oh so funny to intentionally getting on his nerves (knowing he wouldn't hurt you). 😂

I knoooowwww. 😂 I love that about your BMD reader, that she isn't afraid to tease him and he just absolutely HATES it, but he loves her so he can't do anything about it and she knows it. I'll bet that he thinks the real problem is that she knows it LOL 😂

Oh, it's because he actually cares. 💗

He does, man is a total SIMP 😊

People want to think there aren't any good aspects to "traditional/old-fashioned" men, but for the men who are actually good men, traditional doesn't necessarily mean outdated or toxic, so thank you for including this tidbit.

Thank you! 😊 You're right, I think that there's a disconnect about the idea that a "traditional/old-fashioned" man can't be respectful and is always labeled "sexist" or "toxic." And it's wrong, because you can find a man who is respectful, forward thinking, and who has those "old-fashioned/traditional" values (CHIVALRY! 😂) that really translate into putting their girl first, being respectful of what she wants to say, trying to protect her (not because they don't think she can protect herself, but because they want to), and doing things for her (again not because they think she can't do it herself) but because they genuinely care about her. It's the difference between a man and a boy tbh 💅🏻

Her gift to him was so very sweet!! Of course she made him something heartfelt, and he appreciated it because it was a genuine "first" for him, having someone give him a hand-made gift from the heart. 💚💚💚

I know 💗, I really wanted the reader to make something for him, just so that he could again be reminded how much that she loves him and isn't staying with him just because it's convenient or because he's attractive or because she's settling. Also I like that you picked up on the "first" thing again, because that was exactly what I was trying to do lol 😊. It's hard to find firsts for a guy who's over 100 years old 😂

And his gift to her was absolutely perfect. 🥹 A keepsake from his mother? Him basically saying he wishes she could've met his girl? I'm dying of happiness from the sheer fluff. 😭💗

This one was extremely fluffy, but so fun to write! Ben getting her a gift that meant something so intimate to him that he wouldn't have given to anyone else in the past, really just made me melt when I wrote it 🥺 Because he's never wanted to share those pieces of himself with someone else and now he has the reader and I'm just *crying*😭. AND yes! Him saying that he would have brought her home to meet his mom just destroyed me 😭

This was a beautiful addition to the Take a Chance story, and kind of feels like an epilogue in a way, even though I know you're working on that one too. I loved this, friend!!

Thank you so much my wonderful talented friend! 🥰 It really does read like an epilogue and I did not notice that lol 😅

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV and Reader POV

Summary:  All Soldier Boy wants for Christmas is to find the perfect gift for you and all you want is for your boyfriend to have the best Christmas he has in forty years. Reader is a supe with plant powers. (Takes place in my Take A Chance On Me Series- 4 months after they get together, but can be read as stand alone!)

Tropes: Established Relationship, First Christmas, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 8.5K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Illusions to Sex, Fluff, Soft Soldier Boy, A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts, Soldier Boy is Mean to Hughie, Mention of drinking/drugs, Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Take A Chance On Me Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Song Inspiration: Little Things By ABBA

A/N: I know I should be working on the epilogue of "Take a Chance on Me," but @zepskies wrote a lovely Christmas fic called 'Twas the Night for Dean Winchester, and it really just got me in a mood to write some Christmas Fluff! 🥰

Soldier Boy POV

Ben frowned at the delicate necklace laid on the black velvet cloth in front of him, the 10 carat diamonds catching in the brilliant lights that lined the ceiling of the jewelry store. It was the eleventh piece of jewelry that he'd asked the woman behind the counter to remove from the display case, and it still wasn't right.

Ben had waited until the last possible moment to go Christmas shopping. It wasn't because he'd forgotten or because he'd been so busy he hadn't had time to shop or because he'd been called away on a mission, but rather Ben kept putting it off because he didn't want to think about it.

It was his first Christmas back in the U.S, and it was already proving to be one so different than the ones he'd known before.

Christmas for him in his youth when his mother was alive was filled with light and joy. Each room of his family's mansion strung with tinsel, adorned with holly and festive wreaths, and a Christmas tree so large that it put all others to shame and sent the smell of pine wafting thorough the large home. He remembered the lavish parties his mother threw with women in gorgeous gowns and men dressed in suits taking crystal glasses from silver trays, remembered the warmth in the kitchen as his mother baked and rolled fresh pastry, remembered the taste of the hot chocolate on the tip of his tongue that his mother made him before she sent him to bed on Christmas Eve, and remembered her tight embrace and the smell of her floral perfume on Christmas morning when he'd run down the stairs into the living room.

Ben's jaw tightened.

Christmas without her was different, the large mansion where he lived with his father was cold and dark. The hallways desolate and frozen in the winter months that lead into spring, the kitchen no longer heated by the warmth of the oven or infused with the smell of gingerbread, the parlor no longer tinkling with the sounds of glasses and the laughter of guests, the living room no longer housed a Christmas tree so tall that it made the Eiffel tower look like a trinket, and there were no longer Christmas parties where people danced into the wee hours of the morning and poured themselves into bed smelling of champagne and eggnog.

All that was left was the drunken stupor of his father, the harsh words that echoed down the long hallways, and the urge for Ben to find the nearest bottle and drown himself in it.

Ben spent most of his years as a supe trying to forget the years that followed his mother's death and also his Christmases as a supe washing away the memory of the ones that seemed to be infused with the magic of Christmas in his youth.

Ben spent them at Legend's Christmas party with his woman of the hour clinging to his arm, making painful small talk and waiting until the party turned into a hedonistic thrall of sweat and skin as so many others had. And the next morning when he woke up from the fog, he turned back to the little white line that promised to make him forget and the amber bottle that did little to ease the reality that started to sink in.

But this year was different, because he had you.

You who loved Christmas more than anyone he'd ever met, you who was slowly reminding him how much he used to love Christmas as a child, you who'd dragged him to go Christmas tree shopping before Thanksgiving, you who had encouraged him to help decorate the small apartment the two of you shared with so many Christmas lights it was blinding,  and you who had planned something Christmas themed every week for the past month whether it be baking Christmas cookies or watching Christmas movies while drinking hot chocolate on the couch. And in each moment, you'd found some way to include him in it.

Ben wasn't used to that.

He wasn't used to someone wanting him there with them and someone like you going out of your way to include him in everything you did.

If a person had tried to tell him in the past that he'd ended up with someone like you, someone who smiled easily, someone who always put other people first, someone who actually gave a shit about him, someone who was always so damn warm and welcoming, someone who included in him everything you did in a way that didn't make Ben feel like an old grump, and someone who tried their best to make sure that Ben remembered every day that you wanted him around, he would have laughed in that person's face.

And yet there you were.

Truth be told Ben knew that the old version of him probably wouldn't have let someone like you close to him, let alone fall in love with them.

Ben hadn't met anyone else like you in the numerous years he'd been alive and he really didn't want to fuck it up. He'd fucked up so many other things in his life and he hadn't cared, but if it involved you, he wouldn't dare.

Hence, the current dilemma of him standing in the crowded Tiffany store at 8 pm two days before Christmas with you waiting at home for him to exchange gifts. Ben wanted to pick the perfect gift for you, but nothing felt right.

He'd never given much thought to what to buy someone for Christmas. In the past usually an expensive piece of jewelry, a handbag, a dress, or a car would have made any of Ben's many escapades swoon, but not you. Ben had tried to give you jewelry before, expensive jewelry that would have made any of those other women drop to their knees, but you were different.

And as much as Ben loved that about you, it was only making this worse for him.

The one time that he'd tried to give you a gift outright, a beautiful diamond and emerald drop pendant with earrings to match, you hadn't been impressed. Sure, you'd thought that it was beautiful, but you'd told him that you liked gifts that "meant something."

Whatever the fuck that meant.

And he knew for a fact that the 10 carat diamond necklace on the velvet pillow in front of him would mean nothing to you.

"Fuck." Ben murmured under his breath, and the saleswoman stiffened.

"Still not quite right?" She asks, adjusting the sleeves of her navy blue blazer. "We have some bigger jewel-"

"It's not the fucking size." Ben snaps frustrated.

He was running late.  He knew that you were waiting at home for him to bring back dinner and to give him his present, the one that he was sure would be thoughtful and perfect for him because you were always so damn caring.

The other shoppers were pushing and shoving their way to the counters where other salespeople stood in identical navy blazers and white button down shirts, the tension and buzz of two days to Christmas electrifying the air, while Christmas music that Ben couldn't recognize played in the background.

His supe hearing made it worse. Sometimes it was a bit overwhelming and as much as Ben pretended that he didn't have PTSD, he did. Being surrounded by this many people was not helping. It was in moments like this when you were there, would hold entwine your fingertips with his and brush your thumb gently over the back of his hand to ground him as if you could sense his discomfort.

Ben hadn't ever had someone care enough to notice things like that. Another reason why he wanted to find you the perfect gift, because you put up with all his shit and didn't ask for anything in return.

"Ben?" He hears a familiar voice ask, hesitant, and he turns to see Annie standing a few feet inside the open doorway. S

he's wearing a black puffer jacket and her hair is hidden under a red stocking cap, while Hughie holds the door for her. Hughie's arms were laden down with bags while Annie's remained bare. The winter wind blew in through the space, flecking bits of snow onto the rugs that had been laid out to avoid the customers sliding through the sludge.

"Hey." Ben grunts, not quite smiling.

He wasn't good at talking to your best friend or her boyfriend. Personally he thought that Hughie was a fucking pussy and that he didn't have the balls to tell Annie no, but the one time Ben had told you that, you'd only rolled your eyes and told him that Hughie "loved Annie."

Ben loved you and he did have the balls to tell you no, but Ben thought that sometimes it was better to keep his mouth shut and do what you asked. Not to mention Ben hated saying no to you when it was something that could make you happy. Ben liked making you as happy as you made him. 

He flinched at the thought. The self-deprecating monologue was beginning to seep in, the one that told him you were turning him into a "pussy" and that he should cut and run. The same monologue that made him make a mistake and run back to Vought a few months ago when he should have run to you.

Ben shakes it off.

"What are you doing here? I thought you two were going to leave this morning for Illinois?" Annie asks in surprise used to Ben's grouchy demeanor.

Your grandmother turned Christmas into a two day extravaganza, complete with a Christmas Eve and a Christmas Day party. And although Ben and you were supposed to begin the 14 hour drive to Illinois this morning, your grandmother had insisted the two of you catch a flight first thing tomorrow.

"Decided to catch a flight tomorrow." Ben replies.

Ben was secretly happy, because flying meant that he wasn't going to have to drive 14 hours in the snow. The two of you had driven to Illinois once before, and Ben hadn't minded it. You’d been more upset with him for not letting you drive, but Ben liked driving. Driving meant that he was in control and in an emergency situation he wouldn't have to reach over the console and yank the wheel to save the two of you and driving meant that you could relax in the passenger seat and work on whatever it was you were crocheting.

"Like us!" Hughie flashes Ben a wide smile that Ben doesn't feel the need to return. “You should have told us. We could have all traveled together!”

Ben's frown deepens at the thought at being stuck in a metal tube for hours with Hughie and he knew that if you were here you would probably elbow him in the side and tell him to "be nice." If anyone had ever tried to do that to him in the past, he would have ripped their arm off, but not you.

"Last minute shopping?" Hughie asks trying again.

Ben dragged his eyes over the numerous bags hanging from Hughie's arms. "Yeah. You too?"

"Mhmm. We just finished." Annie replies. Her gaze drops to the diamond necklace on top of the display case that the saleswoman is fiddling with. "Is that for-"

"No. Of course not!" Ben says sharper than he means to, shoulders tensing. But him standing in this store when he knew that you were waiting at home for him to celebrate Christmas made him feel like Annie and Hughie had caught him red-handed. "She doesn't like jewelry." He adds referring to you as he takes a step back from the counter and the sales associate who looks confused.

“But sir-“ The woman begins to say, but Ben waves a hand to shut her up.

"Why do you think that?" Annie asks interrupting the woman.

"Because she yelled at me when I bought her that diamond and emerald necklace!" He shouts so loud that some of the other customers turn to stare at him. "This was a fucking mistake, I have to go-" Ben starts to stomp out the door and past Annie not sure where he's going, but she shifts to stand in his way. His eyes narrow in annoyance, thinking about all the ways that he could move her.

He only put up with Annie because she was your best friend and he knew that if he did anything to her then it would upset you, and Ben didn't like upsetting you.

Well, he did think that it was cute when you got angry with him. Your eyebrows scrunched together, your cheeks turned a cute shade of pink, and your eyes seemed to glow with the force of your anger. There were few people who had the courage to tell him off, but the more you did it, the more he started to like it.

But this was different, and now thinking about you only reminded him of his current dilemma.

"Ben, wait a minute." Annie says.

"What?" He snaps

He could practically feel the seconds ticking away until he had to go back to the apartment. It was the first time that he'd ever dreaded going home and seeing you and fuck he hated every single moment of it.

"She does like jewelry." Annie's mouth drops into a sympathetic smile.

Ben tried not to get more angry when he saw the pitying look in her eye. He didn't need her pity, didn't need anyone's pity! He was still Soldier Boy damnit!

"Then why the fuck did she-"

"She doesn't like this kind of jewelry." Annie clarifies. "She like vintage stuff, simple, refined. Hell, I have to practically drag her away from the display cases at Atomic Archives."

"Atomic Archives?" Ben asks hesitantly. He had no idea what Annie was talking about. You'd never mentioned that place before.

"Yeah, it's our favorite antique store. It’s about two blocks over from where the plant shop used to be.”

"Can you show me where it is?" Ben says it before he can stop himself, his heart surging with hope at the possibility of finding the perfect gift for you.

"I mean I-" Annie begins to say, but Hughie interrupts.

"Babe, didn’t you say that the owner was closed this week because she went out of town?" Hughie asks her, throwing a sympathetic look in Ben's direction that made him bristle.

"Oh, right." Annie sighs.

Ben felt the hope inside pop and deflate like a pricked balloon, but the longer he stood there in the crowded shop, with the ostentatious jewelry twinkling under the lights, the buzz of the chatter of other shoppers, and the ridiculous new-age Christmas music that grated on his ears, he began to have an idea.

"Come on." Ben might have said it as a suggestion, but it wasn’t open for debate. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed Annie and unfortunately that meant that Hughie was going to tag along.

"What?" Annie sputtered.

"Come the fuck on. I don’t have time for this." Ben snaps back and stomps out the doorway past Annie and Hughie into the snow.

"But what about-" Hughie begins to say and Ben whirls around to glare at him, eyes narrowing. "Okay you got it. Lead the way buddy." Hughie nods his head in agreement.

"I'm not your fucking buddy." Ben sighs under his breath.

Soldier Boy POV

"This place is really murdery." Ben hears Hughie whisper to Annie from somewhere behind him. "Do you think Ben is going to try to kill us? Should I call Butc-"

"I'm not going to fucking kill you!" Ben snaps, pulling out his keys, the jingle of the metal echoing down the long hallway. "And I guess you really can't make a decision without that British fuck can you?”

The storage unit warehouse was desolate, but that was to be expected, it was after all two days to Christmas and most were more focused on buying things to put in their storage units than moving things out. The lights along the roof of the steel gray hallway flicker and throw long shadows over the navy blue doors of the units doing little to alleviate the creepy aura.

In hindsight Ben did agree that this particular storage space was "murdery," but it was the only one that he could get close to the apartment last minute. The same apartment that Ben has been trying to convince you to move out of.

It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and Ben hated the thought that you'd lived there as long as you had, walking home at night alone before he moved in. Now it wasn't a problem because Ben never let you walk by yourself. And as hard as you'd fought him not to live in a "big fancy apartment" all Ben wanted was to live somewhere where he could imagine staying permanently. Not in a small one bedroom apartment where he had to stoop in the shower, the bed barely fit in the bedroom, and seemed too small for one person let alone two.

He knew that he was wearing you down, but he still had a long way to go.

"Why are we here then?" Hughie asks.

"You're here because your girlfriend wouldn’t come without you.” Ben rolls his eyes as he fits the key into the thick padlock.

He was getting tired of listening to Hughie’s whining. He heard enough of that when he was stuck on missions with him, but he was tolerating him, for the moment at least. He had to, because if he didn't then he was never going to be able to find the perfect gift for you.

The interior of the storage unit isn't anything special. Ben didn't have much that he wanted to keep from his old life, as a supe or from his childhood. The things inside this storage unit were the only things that Ben had left that didn't cause him to be reminded of how his father chastised him or the drafty home that Ben returned to each time he got kicked out of another boarding school.

The mansion that had been in his family for decades had sat abandoned and locked up, hidden from the main roads so it was undisturbed after Ben's father died. Ben had gone to Philadelphia a few months ago to get things in order with the bank and prepare it for sale, but had been surprised when you told him you wanted to come.

He didn't think that you'd want to be involved in something so tedious, but it was almost as if you could sense how hard it was going to be for him, and you'd insisted.

Ben had no intention of setting foot inside, but you were curious and even though it made Ben's throat tight to walk down the dusty cobwebbed halls, the wonder on your face as you walked through made the cold memories of the world he knew before he was a supe fade into the background.

And this storage unit was all that was left of that life.

Ben located the old steamer trunk with ease. It was a faded gray now, but Ben remembered the day his father bought it for his mother. When the grayed sides were a soft supple black, the metal lock and edging were a polished gold, and the rose patterned fabric that lined the inside was soft and covered in bright pink flowers.

When Ben opens the trunk, he catches the smell of the floral perfume his mother used to wear and after all these years it makes him remember the tight hugs she'd give him the moment she sent him off to bed and the tight hugs she'd given him when he rushed down the stairs on Christmas morning.

He didn't like thinking about her or talking about her, but sometimes he would think of her when he was with you. Whenever you did something caring without being asked or whenever you took the time to check in to see how he was doing. Not that you were motherly, just that Ben hadn't had anyone in a long time care about little things like that.

The only other "relationship" he'd tried to have was with Crimson Countess and she didn't do any of the things for him that you did. There wasn't any comparison between the two of you as far as Ben was concerned.

He shakes off the memory the way he always does and moves some of his mother's clothes for the cherry wood carved box that he knows is in the bottom.

He opens it slowly, extracting a small velvet box from within, one of many inside that Ben probably should have taken to the bank ages ago for safe keeping. Ben's father had a tendency to buy things for his mother whenever he "messed up" and the small velvet boxes inside were proof of that.

Ben turns back to where Annie and Hughie are watching with curiosity at the door of the storage unit. "Here."

"Here?" Annie says hesitantly looking at the velvet box in Ben's hand.

"You brought us out here for a box?" Hughie huffs.

Ben narrows his eyes. "No. And if you tell anyone about this I'll turn you inside out, ass-wipe."

"Why do you always have to be so-" Hughie begins to say, but Annie nudges him in the side.

Ben wondered briefly if Annie and Hughie also tried to tolerate him the same way that he tolerated them for you.  

"Wow." Annie says, her voice hushed and reverent when she opens the box with strands of her blonde hair falling out around the hat.

"You think she'll like it?" Ben clears his throat, trying not to wince at the question.

He hated that he was relying on Annie for this or relying on anyone in general. Ben would have rather taken a long walk off a short pier than anyone for help, but he was just so desperate to make sure that the first Christmas the two of you spent together was perfect.

You deserved that and Ben wanted to give it to you.

"She will."

"Good." Ben takes the box back, but decides to bring the wooden box with him back to the apartment just in case. His eyes narrow as he looks over at Hughie. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll shove your head up Butcher's ass. Then again, you two would probably enjoy something like that."

"You're welcome." Annie raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever." Ben mutters.

Reader POV

Ben was late and you were starting to worry.

Not that Ben was always punctual. The man was about as punctual as the White Rabbit, but rather Ben was sure to let you know when he was running late. Not to mention Ben was rarely late to things that he knew were important to you.

And tonight was special or at least you wanted it to be.

You look at your phone again to check the time, noting that it was nearing nine and Ben had told you he was going to be back at eight. You were trying not to think too much about it, busying yourself with other little things, like packing for your trip to your grandmother's home in Illinois. Something that you would have ended up doing about an hour before you had to go to the airport, but you knew that would only annoy Ben.

But you liked annoying him.

Ben's nostrils would flare, his jaw would flex, and the green of his eyes would darken in a way that sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine, but tonight you were too anxiety ridden at how late he was to care about making him annoyed.

Ben and you were supposed to leave this morning to drive the 14 hours to your hometown in Illinois, but you'd called your grandmother a few days ago and asked her if Ben and you could fly in instead.

You wanted the two of you have a Christmas alone before you dragged him back home and made him sit through the two holiday parties your grandmother threw. So you'd planned a quiet Christmas at home where the two of you could drink eggnog, watch some holiday movies, and exchange gifts before Ben was subjected to every single person you'd known since you were six.

But Ben didn’t seem to mind any of that.

Regardless, you were going all out this Christmas. It was Ben's first since he'd come back to the States and you wanted it to be perfect and it was the first Christmas the two of you were spending together as a couple.

The anxious energy that thrummed through your veins reached out into the numerous plants in your apartment, that shifted and stirred as your powers coaxed them forward. The vines that crept along the walls shook with an unnatural breeze, the Christmas tree grew an inch taller, the mistletoe hanging above the front door grew another few shimmering berries, the blackberry and raspberry vines that hung over your refrigerator fidgeted and wove together into a curtain while the tomato plant in the garden box above your sink dropped bright red fruit onto the counter, and the orange/lemon tree that sat behind your kitchen table blocking the view of the alley beyond shook it's branches for a moment. You could feel everything alive in your apartment leaning towards you as if waiting for your silent command.

Rex, the creature you'd created from broken vines and trampled leaves four months ago, flicks his eyes over to you sensing the same disturbance the rest of the plants inside could.

You bite the inside of your cheek fighting your urge to check your phone even though you know that less than a minute has passed since you'd last checked. Instead you fiddle with the ribbon on the lumpy wrapped gift that is perched on your lap.

Shopping for Ben had been difficult to say the least.

You weren't sure what to get your 104 boyfriend who'd lived as a hedonistic playboy for most of his life and you didn't like giving gift cards (you didn't think Ben would understand the concept) or giving people meaningless trinkets that they used once and then threw away (the Grinch was right about some things). You liked giving gifts that you put time and effort into that you were sure the recipient was going to love.

And you were sure that the package on your lap contained the perfect gift and you were excited to see the look on Ben's face when he unwrapped it.

Your cat Bean purrs where he sits beside you on the couch and Rex your, for lack of a better word, Dragon was watching the multicolored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner blink on and off.

It was bigger for your apartment than it should be, but Ben had insisted on getting it and you couldn't complain. Not when he genuinely seemed to be happy to stand there in the snow picking out a tree with you.

And after when no Uber driver agreed to pick the two of you up because of the tree, Ben had carried it on his shoulder fifteen blocks while you begged him to let you help. When you'd tried to take some of the tree, Ben had shifted it to his other shoulder and taken your hand instead, which wasn't what you meant when you reached out towards him, but you didn't let go, not when it was cold and Ben's hand was warm.

The one jammed into the corner of your small living room didn't have a leaf out of place or any signs of decay. You'd fixed that with a flick of a finger.

You'd gone all out with decorations.

Every plant in your apartment had lights of their own and ornaments that swung just out of reach from your pets. Christmas lights were strung down the hallway and there was a wreath on your bedroom door. Strands of mistletoe hung over every doorway in your apartment and there was one taped to the wall above your bed. That one was Ben's doing, but you couldn't complain, not when it felt so damn good to kiss him.

Ben hadn't spoken about the Christmases he spent in the past, but he'd listened to you talk about your Christmases growing up when the two of you decorated the tree with ornaments you'd collected over the years.

He might not have been big on sharing, but your boyfriend was good at listening. Not just pretending to listen, but actually being quiet and wanting to learn more about what you're saying. You'd thought it was odd when you became roommates and you realized just how much Ben listened and remembered what you told him, but now it was one of the reasons that made you love your boyfriend more.

You sighed, a happy smile on your face. You didn't think that you could feel this way about anyone, let alone someone you hated for so long, but you did. Ben was changing the belief you had about what relationships should look like, and you were sure that you were doing the same for him.

You hear the jingle of keys and the fumble of the doorknob as Ben slowly opens the front door and you leap from the couch.

"You're home!" You exclaim as your body hits his full speed, but he doesn't move. It was difficult for you to produce enough force to move him, difficult for anyone really.

Ben chuckles "Miss me Petals?"

He moves the plastic bag of Chinese food to his left hand so he can hug you back, his right hand fitting comfortably over the small of your back to hold you tighter against him.

You could remember the first time you hugged him, when all he did was stand there with his hands at his sides awkwardly while you held on to him as tight as you could. This was better. Ben's embrace is warm and strong, unyielding, but full of the love that he’d had such a hard time admitting.

"Yes." You squeeze him hard, smiling into his jacket that's flecked with melting snow, cold against your skin, but the warmth of his body soaks through the chill and into you. You sigh, nuzzling further into him. "I was worried-"

"Why?" Ben's voice rumbles through his chest, against your cheek.

"Because you weren't home yet." You pull back to stare up at him. His brilliant green eyes catch in the multicolored strands of Christmas lights, strung through your apartment. There's snow caught in his dark hair, turning to water and dripping down into his face in the warmth of the apartment.

Ben frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now." You smile arching up to kiss him. Ben groans into your mouth, his grip on you tightening as he deepens the kiss, pressing the hand on the small of your back just a little more to secure you against his chest.

You sigh softly, content in living in this moment with him for another few precious seconds. The heat of his body transferring into you the longer you stand pressed against him, soaking through your sweatpants and chunky sweater in the best way.

You'd never felt this way about anyone in the past. There hadn't been another boyfriend who'd treated you the way Ben did, no other boyfriend who'd cared about the little things, and no other boyfriend who you were so in love with. Even your first love so long ago faded into the background, the one you thought you'd never get over, and all that was left was Ben.

You're too excited about giving Ben his gift to eat. You sit cross-legged on the plush gray couch so close to him that your knees are touching the outside of his thigh as Ben places the boxes of food onto your coffee table. The anxious energy tingling in the pit of your stomach and buzzing in your chest so much that it's difficult to sit still.

And before Ben can give you your chopsticks, you thrust the lumpy wrapped package onto his lap with a wide smile.

"You first!" You say.

Ben shakes his head. "It should be ladies first."

“I’m not a lady Ben. We both know that-“

“Sorry sweetheart that’s the way it goes.”

“Don't be so old fashioned Gramps. It's 2024.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing at the cute frown that pulls at his lips when you use the nickname. Ben never liked it, but when you'd first met, Ben hadn't told you his real name, and you'd assigned him the nickname and it had stuck when you realized how much it annoyed him.

That was when he did everything in his power to annoy you as well, so it seemed like a good fit.

In all honesty, you didn't hate how old fashioned Ben was, if anything it was a relief, a reprieve from the way the modern boys treated women. It was nice to finally be with a man who actually gave a shit about you and cared what you wanted.

"And I really want you to open yours first." You plead as you lean towards him. "Oh, and this goes with it."

You reach down behind the couch to grab the small golden barrel cactus, avoiding the sharp yellow spines, and place it on the minimal space left on the coffee table. You'd crocheted a dark green sleeve to go around the terra cotta pot.

"You got me a cactus?" Ben snorts.

"I mean, I have so many plants in here and I thought that you'd want one that was yours. Plus, you'll never have to water it." You gesture with one hand to the numerous plants around the room, the ones bathed in the multicolored lights from the Christmas Tree, the ones with bright green leaves that unfurled towards the light, the others with hanging vines that trailed to the ground so thick that you couldn't remember the color of the wall, the apple tree with ripe red fruit, and the numerous herbs in the garden box that hung over your kitchen sink. "And I gave it a sweater."

"Why did you give it a sweater?"

"It’s used to a warm climate and because I had some yarn left over."

"From?"

"You're just going to have to open your gift and find out." You shrug, but can barely contain your excitement.

Ben shakes his head at you, but a smile twitches on the corner of his lips. You knew that your boyfriend loved you because you were different than anyone he'd ever met, and you reveled in that. You liked that even though Ben was older than you,  that no matter how many other experiences he'd had in his life,  you were a first for him just as Ben was a first for you.

He rips through the paper carefully, trying hard not to ruin what was inside, the sound of crinkling and tearing blocking out the Christmas playlist for a moment that you'd put on before Ben had come home, but you can hear the ABBA song clear as day.

For a moment he stares down at the gift not quite comprehending what the lumpy mass in his lap is, but then he picks it up.

It had taken a month for you to pick out the perfect dark green yarn that was soft but not too soft, green but not too green, and another two months for you to finish it when Ben wasn't home, but you were proud of the sweater that you'd made your boyfriend.

He stares at it for another few beats, holding it up to the light, and it makes you worry that maybe you should have bought him something at the mall instead.

"You made me a sweater?" He asks, there's something on the edge of his voice that you can't place, some traces of emotion that you're not able to identify.

"Yeah. I wanted to make you something." You clear your throat, worried. "I mean- you don't have any and I know that you keep saying you run a little warm, but I figured we're going to Illinois for Christmas and it might be cold."

Ben doesn't say anything and you start to feel the self-doubt come roaring in.

Why did I make him a sweater? I should have bought him some cologne or something.

"And you complained when Butcher sent you on that mission to Alaska last month and I just thought that-“ You press your lips into a tight line, shoulders drooping. “If you don't like it I can keep it for me-" You fumble, but before you can finish, Ben yanks you into his lap.

His hands cup your cheeks as he kisses you so fiercely that it wipes any doubts from your mind. You make a surprised sound in the back of your throat, but sink into the kiss.  “Don’t you fucking dare.” Ben mutters against your lips.

Your blush burns against your face. “You like it?”

He nods. “ No one’s ever made me anything before.” His voice comes out a little bit gruff, as if he’s embarrassed to admit it, but it makes you smile.

“I figured and I wanted to change that.” Your fingertips dance over his forehead, brushing away the hair that’s fallen forward before your hand drops to cup his cheek, feeling the scratch of his beard against the palm of your hand. “But you’re sure you like it?”

Ben kisses you again, his large hands settling on your hips with an encouraging squeeze. “I do.”

“Good. Merry Christmas.” You wrap your arms around the back of his neck to hug him for a minute, sinking into his embrace with a happy smile.

"Merry Christmas doll." Ben murmurs into your hair, affection lacing his words.

Again, you send a mental thank you to your grandmother for understanding that Ben and you needed a day to be together and celebrate the way you wanted to before coming to stay. Not that you didn't like the Christmas Eve party or the Christmas day party, but you wanted to give Ben this. You noticed that Ben still had a hard time being in places with a lot of people when the PTSD came roaring back, and you wanted to show him what Christmas meant to you and hopefully show what Christmas would look like between the two of you as long as you were together.

“Sweetheart you gotta open yours now.” Ben’s voice rumbles, the warmth of his breath on your ear. It makes a pleasurable shiver thrill skate down your spine when you think of all the other times the two of you have been this close.

“It’s okay I can wait.” You hum into his throat, content, but Ben won't give in.

He pushes you back gently from his chest shaking his head. “Too bad. It's your turn."

"Fine." You start to move back to the space beside him, but Ben's hands catch on your hips to stop you.

"I didn't say I wanted you to move did I?" His smile turns more smirk.

"I-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like having you on top of me?" Ben purrs, kissing under your jaw, his beard scratching in a way that makes your throat tight.

"Keep doing that and the only thing I'm going to unwrap is you." You sigh in a half-moan, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck.

"After." Ben leans back to reach into his coat pocket and pulls out a small black velvet box that fits in the palm of your hand.

You hesitate to open it.

It wasn't that you didn't want jewelry for Christmas, it was that Ben and you had done this song and dance before after he tried to make you wear a diamond and emerald necklace with jewels bigger than your index, middle, and third finger put together. The whole time you wore it the only thing you could think about is how many groceries you could have bought with the necklace, how much you were afraid that it was going to break, and how much you feared that you were going to lose it or someone was going to try and steal it.

Maybe that was ridiculous, but extravagant gifts never appealed to you. You liked gifts that meant something, gifts that were heartfelt and thoughtful, gifts like the bookshelf Ben had gotten you months ago before you were dating because he noticed you needed one. Not to mention you loved just spending time with Ben. If he hadn't gotten you anything you would have been content with just sitting with him on the couch and watching a Christmas movie.

But you smile, because you don't want to hurt his feelings and because it's his first Christmas in forty years and you wanted it to be special.

It's Christmas and I will be thankful and happy with whatever he got me, because Ben was thinking of me when he bought it.

You think to yourself as you open the box.

The first thing you notice is that the box isn't as new as you thought, the inside of the lid is printed in ancient script that's a little faded, worn against the aged white silk that lines it. Your eyes drift to the piece of jewelry nestled on the pillow. It's a silver locket, hexagon shaped, and about the size of your thumb. The face is printed with weaving ivy leaves and roses that reach to a simple plain border.

Simple, stately, and completely you.

Ben is uncharacteristically quiet, but he breaks the silence first. "Do you-" He clears his throat, "Do you like it?"

He asks it hesitantly, as if he's afraid to hear your answer. It was unusual for Ben to look so nervous.

You can only nod, any words you had stuck in the back of your throat. Your fingernail finds the seam between the two pieces of metal and you gently unlatch the locket to see the picture inside. There's a piece of glass protecting a yellowed photo of a little boy who looks no more than five standing in a small black suit. You didn't think that they made suits for kids that small. He's smiling and one of his teeth are missing, but he looks oddly familiar.

"Who is this?" You ask. The more you look at the photo the more you think that you've seen him before.

"It's me." He says it quiet, almost a whisper.

"You? But-"

"It was my mother's." He clarifies and you inhale sharply in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods once, looking uncomfortable. By now you knew that moments like this usually made your boyfriend uncomfortable no matter how many times that you'd told him that he didn't have to be uncomfortable about being vulnerable. He was getting a little better, slowly, very slowly.

"Oh Ben I don't know if I should-" You shake your head, afraid to touch something so old.

Ben didn't often speak about his mother, but when he did, it was always reverent and respectful. You could see in his eyes how much he had loved her and how much he had cared about her. His father, Ben also didn't like talking about, but Ben never spoke of his father with the kindness that he'd spoke about his mother.

And you didn't want to take something like this away from him, something that meant so much to him, because of how much he loved his mother.

"No. I-" He clears his throat and Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "I want you to have it."

"But-" You stutter.

"What else am I going to do with it Petals? Can't exactly wear it myself." Ben chuckles, but the humor doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s your mom’s and I-“ You trail off still looking at the photo of Ben as a little boy. He had the same mischievous twinkle in his eyes that you loved, the same unruly dark hair, but there was something different about him. He looked happier. It was the same look that Ben had when it was just the two of you together, the happiness that you wanted Ben to feel the rest of his life when he understood what it was like to be loved and cherished.

And it made you understand that the last time Ben must have felt loved and cherished was when his mother was still alive. It broke your heart to know that Ben had lived all these years without her and missed that in his life.

The locket was beautiful and the fact that Ben remembered what you said about liking gifts that “meant something” made your heart flutter.

Because this meant something. Ben taking the time to go through his mother’s jewelry and pick something out just for you that was special to him that he wanted to share with you, meant more than the emerald and diamond necklace he had tried to give you months ago.

There were tears burning behind your eyes the more you look at the photo of the little boy.

Ben is watching you. “Well-“ He shrugs. “I'm an only child. Which means I don't have any siblings who have wives to fight over this stuff so, I figured that if anyone was going to get it, it should be you. If you don't take it, it'll sit in that fucking storage unit. Seems like a shame."

You don't answer.

"And-" He hesitates, "I think my mom would have wanted you to have it. Hell, she might have given it to you, if I'd brought you home to meet her."

Your cheeks flush.

Ben studies you for another minute, before you watch his smile twitch into a frown. "Fuck, I knew I shouldn't have gotten you jewelry.  Annie said that you liked jewelry, but I told her you didn't and now the bitch is probably having a good laugh with that pussy of a boyfriend! Forget about it sweetheart, I'll go get you something else right now-" Ben tries to take the box from you, but you swat his hand away.

“Don't you fucking dare!” You shout, using the same words that he said to you when you tried to take his sweater away.

"But you don't like it-"

"I do!  And knowing how much this means to you, makes it better."

"Really?"

You nod, a wide smile wiping away any uncertainty in his gaze. "Will you help me put it on?"

"Sure." Ben says gruffly. His voice has lowered a little, and you know that it's a mixture of pride and love mingling in the tone. It made something break open deep inside and flood your ribcage with love.

You turn your neck to the side, pulling your hair away from the skin as Ben hooks the chain together at the nape of your neck.  The cool metal of the necklace against your skin and the weight are unfamiliar, but you already knew that you wouldn’t be taking it off anytime soon. "It's perfect!" You pull Ben in for a kiss, threading your fingers into his dark hair.

Ben smiles into your mouth, holding you tight against him as if he never wants to let you go and you don't want him to.

It was odd to think that you'd only been together for four months, but you couldn't imagine your life without him. It seemed ridiculous for you to think that Ben was it after such a short time, but he was. You'd never rushed into anything in your entire life, but then Ben was there shattering every expectation that you had, enough to make you throw your inhibitions to the wind and jump feet first into the unknown if it meant he was with you.

The kiss is softer than the one the two of you shared at your front door, filled with more emotion than Ben usually let the world see, but he was opening up bit by bit, learning that you wouldn't judge him for that and it made you feel sky high.

This was the relationship you'd always wanted, and you never thought that you'd have it with Ben, but now that you were here you wouldn't change a thing, because it wouldn’t have put you in his arms.

"You can change the picture." Ben murmurs into your lips.

"No way. I don't have any kid photos of you. And I'm pretty sure you'll see all of mine this week.”

“I bet you were cute.” Ben smiles, raising one of the hands from your hip to push your hair from your face. “Hard to imagine you being any other way sweetheart.” 

"Debatable." You sigh, nipping at his bottom lip in a way that makes Ben pull you back to him.

And when the kiss turns hungry, with you gripping his hair so tight you'd be sure that it would hurt anyone else, and with his fingers pushing up the bottom of your t-shirt to feel the warmth of your skin against his hands and find the dips and curves of your body that make you moan into his mouth, you can't help but think that this is the best Christmas you'd ever had.

"I do think it's later sweetheart." Ben's eyes shine with mischief, mouth pulling into the familiar smirk that makes your knees weak.

"Good. Because I have one other gift for you." You moan as Ben's mouth trails down to your jaw, his beard prickling against the sensitive skin, in a way that drives you mad.

"It's not another plant is it?" He bites just under your jaw and you tighten your hands in his hair, gasping softly.  "Fuck, I love those sounds you make baby." Ben murmurs.

"No." You've lost all ability to form sentences, not when he's so perfectly warm and the trail of his hands working up your abdomen consumes you.

"Give it to me later." Ben's eyes flash a startling green. "I want to unwrap my favorite gift right now."

"Keep going the way you are, and you're gonna find it."

Ben hesitates, before he raises his hand to feel the end of the brand new lingerie that you'd bought special for tonight, his eyes darkening with the realization. "Well then, Merry Christmas to me."

Ben's mouth falls against yours, but before he goes further, he pulls back just for a moment, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Ben?" You question. 

"Merry Christmas Petals." He whispers, dragging his thumb over your cheek, and nudges his nose against yours in a gesture that warms your heart. He didn’t do things like that often, but whenever he did it always stood out to you, because it added on another layer to the man you loved with all your heart.

"Merry Christmas Ben."

A/N: I thought that they deserved a little Christmas fluff. I'm hoping that I have time to drop a follow up to this before Christmas, because I kinda want to write what happens when they go back to Illinois, but we'll see what happens! ❤️

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰

Taglist for Take A Chance On Me:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry @ladysparkles78

@spxideyver @zepskies @impala67stellawinchester

@reidtomewinchester @samanthadegaro @glossy01 @nikimisery

@tunnelvisionlove @incandxscents @winchester-stark @samahanta

@melonmochi

@kamisobsessed @whichwitchwanda @karolina-12110905 @jcollins03-blog

@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444 @tulipsvanilla @angrydragon90 @chi-raz

[mj-ackerman]

I was able to catch up with the latest chapter of Dandadan, and I really enjoyed reading the manga. There are so many things I love about it but the thing that I love the most is that there are no boring chapters /arcs (at least for me) probably because they start the new arc right away after just finishing the other, like the story is not being dragged longer by having a chapter where nothing really happens, and it feels like the genre of the series changes every arc which is really interesting, it's crazy it's like you're reading a different manga with the same characters everytime . Also I love that the arcs always ends with them eating dinner together after going through a life threatening battles.

As for the characters, I really love Momo and Okarun so much and of course the whole gang but I'm gonna be biased, Momo is my favorite from all of them. I just love female characters who looks like a mean girl but actually is the nicest person you'll ever know. I actually thought she was mean until she defended Okarun, who she doesn't even know at that time, from his classmates and it made me like her even more when she apologized to him when she realized she said too much and was being mean to him. She's also a girls girl, like girlie was literally attacked by Aira, she also spread a nasty rumor about her and even claimed that she's a demon yet she still rescued her and helped her. Even when she got jealous of her, she was mainly mad at Okarun and not her. It was also the same with Vamola's case, she was jealous and upset that she kissed him but that jealousy didn't stop her from taking care and looking after her, she was mainly mad at Okarun that time too lol. I just love her so much I can't put it to words.

I love Aira and Jiji too, I hate how the fandom exaggerated the hate and villainized them (over a ship too). When I first saw the hate about them, I really thought they're the most vile evil character only to find out that they're actually not that bad, and after reading the manga I can say that they do not deserve to be hated. Yeah, Aira was mean and a two faced, but she's slowly changing and started being true to herself, she was just a delusional teenager who wants the attention to herself. I love her and Momo's dynamic so much, they're like friends who can't stand each other but still good friends who's there for each other when they needed to, while Jiji is just a cringe flirty guy who does random poses and looks like he's happy to be there, he's a genuinely good person to boot, I can't believe there people who seriously hate them, they're just silly teenagers.

There's so much more I want to say but it'll be spoiler lol.

[soohiefan13]

MOMOKARUN - roomies

ੈ♡˳ a continuation of my "roomies head cannons" post (if u haven't read it yet, you should totally go read it either before or after you read this bc it's fire if i may say so myself.

notes: 2.8k words. warning(s):

ੈ♡˳

music was thumping in their ears. they weren't at a party or anything. they were just in momo's new bedroom. well, not new new. momo had lived there a good three months already. with her (low-key fine) roomie.

the roomie in question was in his bedroom. no music of his own. he was mostly just involuntarily listening the fast bass line of whatever the hell momo and her friends were listening to. honestly, ken was getting a little irritated. this was his one night out of the week that he had to study and relax. every other day, he was practicing with his club or going to work. he liked living with momo, but times like these made him wish he had taken advantage of the roommate matching resources. he just sighed and grabbed his noise cancelling ear buds. if he had to listen to something, it was gonna be something he wanted to listen to.

"I don't know, girl! he's hot stuff!" muko said loudly while looking in the mirror and pulling her hair into different hairstyles. "y'all haven't ever even flirted a little?"

momo threw a pillow at her girlfriend and rolled her eyes. "dude. if you haven't noticed, he's a total nerd."

muko and miko both deadpanned and turned to momo. "girl. if you haven't noticed, that's literally your type." muko stated. then miko piped up.

"also, I don't know who you think you are! did you just forget that you two freaks are studying the same nerdy occult stuff!"

"well, yea! but he's studying aliens and all that UFO bullshit! i'm studying genuine stuff: spirits and the supernatural!" momo said proudly.

her friends deadpanned again. "right... right..."

"whatever. you two are studying- what is it again? dress up games?" she insulted.

miko whipped around. "bitch! I don't wanna hear that noise whenever you step out wearing something made by us two. and you'll look totally hot in it, too."

momo chuckled, applying a big false eyelash to top off her gyaru makeup look. all three of the girls were practicing their skills. since they were finally allowed to wear makeup out and about everyday. muko wore it anyway, but boy, did she stay in detention.

"honestly, momo. you could use more practice." muko blurted out, a plan flowering into her mind.

"um, rude! you couldn't have said that a little nicer?" momo whined, staring at her makeup in a handheld mirror and working hard to decipher what exactly she was doing wrong.

"i'm just sayin', it might help to practice on a fresh face..." muko said, raising her eyebrows at miko. momo just cocked her head to the side, confused.

miko smiled mischievously. "yea... maybe that cute roomie of yours would be up to letting you practice on his mug."

momo rolled her eyes, touching up her eyeliner. "yea right. okarun would never agree to that. he's kinda uptight."

the girls dropped their jaws. "okarun?! what the shit kinda name is that?"

momo blushed. "well, that's not his real name. it's just a nickname I gave to him since I can't stand to hear to stupid name." the girls stared at her, urging her to continue. momo sighed big and loud. "ugh! his real name is... ken takakura."

they busted out laughing, jumping on to the bed next to her. they shook her around and hit each other, trying to recover from what momo just said.

"girl, are you serious! you're living with a ken takakura and you're not asking him out already?!" muko shouted. momo shoved her hands over her mouth, afraid ken okarun would hear. "give him a chance!" she said, muffled.

"seriously, momo. don't sell yourself short. you're a cute girl and ken seems like a sweetie. start off easy. ask to do his makeup tonight."

"tonight?! but I thought you two were sleeping over..." momo pouted.

the girls grabbed their overnight bags and bedazzled phones, which had cute little charms hanging off of them. "not anymore! you've got a mission to accomplish tonight. see ya!"

and with that, the two girls left. momo was sitting on her bed, wanting so badly to scream and chase them down. but she didn't want to disturb okarun. her phone rang, causing her to jump. it was miko.

"what?!" momo grumbled loudly into her phone.

"if you don't call us back tonight with an update on how everything went down, we're totally coming back tomorrow and talking to ken takakura ourselves."

momo groaned out, slamming her phone shut and then throwing it down on her bed. it couldn't hurt to ask. the worst that could happen was that okarun would say no, then momo could go to bed. but what if he said yes? she would have to sit super close to him and touch his face a ton and stare at his super cute face. ugh! she really didn't want to do this, but at the same time... sitting close to him and touching him and staring at his super cute face didn't sound horrible. who was she kidding? it sounded perfect. momo sighed. she slowly got up and trudged into her bathroom. she spent a good ten minutes removing her makeup, washing her face, and applying some skincare products. she spent the silent time thinking about how to go about this in the least awkward way. asking wasn't super awkward, but actually doing the makeup would be. she couldn't handle his big doe eyes staring at her the whole time.

that's it! she would ask to practice eye makeup on okarun! that way, his eyes would have to be shut the majority of the time.

"alright..." momo sighed, her makeup bag in tote. "let's get this over with."

she stepped quietly through their common area and tiptoed down his hallway. she kinda hoped he was sleeping.

softly, momo knocked a few times on his door. no answer. confused, she pressed her ear against his door, and knocked again. still no answer. his lights were on so he couldn't be sleeping. was he just ignoring her on purpose? without thinking, she just pushed his bedroom door open.

there he was. laying on his bed. shirtless. of course he was shirtless. stupid muko. stupid miko. momo stared at him. he had his arm covering his eyes, a hand resting on his toned abdomen. he also had... ear buds in. seriously? momo groaned and shuffled toward him. she smacked him on the arm.

okarun jumped up. he pulled his ear bud out and sat up straight. putting his glasses back on, he looked up at momo. "hey miss ayase. did you need my help with something?"

she stood in front of him, head turned to the side and refusing to look at him. "um, no. well, yes, actually. would you be willing to let me practice some eye makeup on you? I know it's not super manly or whatever, but miko says i'll get better at it if I practice on a fresh face. it's stupid but you're the only person I could ask. those two bitches conveniently left right after making the suggesting it."

okarun took out the second ear bud and stood up, standing a little close to momo. she stiffened. "yea, sure. if it's important to you, i'd be happy to help."

"cool." momo mumbled. they stood their for a second in awkward silence. "um, could you put a shirt on real quick. i'll be waiting on the couch..."

okarun blushed and chuckled nervously. "yea... uh, sorry. i'll be a out in a jiffy."

miss ayase spun around on her heels after ken shut the door. once he was alone, he pinched the bridge of his nose, embarrassed. jiffy. what does that even mean? and why would he stand so close to this girl shirtless? he could've made her uncomfortable. that was the last thing ken wanted. they got along really well, other than the occasional argument over running shoes or stolen food. they spent a lot of time together, studying or sharing meals. sometimes it felt like the two of them were already couple in ken's mind. they did just about everything couples did, safe for the romantic stuff. of course, ken thought about the romantic stuff, more often than he'd admit. she was pretty and, despite being the most stubborn person on the planet, she was a good person to be around. she was extremely supportive and always made sure ken was taking care of himself. she would make him hearty dinners the day before he had a track meet and would stay up extra late to study with him if he was feeling academically insecure about a certain subject. and she was pretty. ken didn't realize it, but his gaze on her lingered. he adored her messy hair, the way it flicked up and the way her bangs shaped her face when she pulled her hair up. he also liked the way she dressed. very comfy and casual, but she just made it look good. she had a nice body, too. a little curvy, with long legs and a little more muscle than you'd expect. ken felt like she would fit in his hands just right-

god, ken! don't be a pervert!

he shook his head, as if he could fling the flush of pink off his cheeks. ken isn't sure if he can handle sitting so close to miss ayase. he was already getting worked up just thinking about her-

"okarun?" momo called, a little worried he fell asleep.

ken slapped himself on the face and sighed. be normal.

"sorry, I just needed to rinse my face off." he lied.

okarun plopped down next to momo. he turned the TV on and flicked through the channels until he got to their most watched channel- sci-fi. an alien invasion movie played quietly as okarun sat and waited for momo to get her makeup sorted. he watched her hands intently as she thumbed through different eye liners and brushes.

he wanted them to hold his face already.

"you ready?" momo asked.

"yes." okarun answered. he was a little quick with his response.

"alright." momo uncapped a black felt-tip eyeliner pen, giving it a small shake. her eyes flickered up to his, a small feeling of nervousness bubbling up inside of her. "try not to move too much. this would totally suck to get in your eyes."

finally, her non dominant hand cupped okarun's cheek, holding him still and positioning his head properly. she began applying it underneath his eyes. they were quiet as she mapped out a shape. then, she applied a thick line to his upper lash line. she took a moment to regain her composure since his eyes were finally closed for this part. his face was totally soft in her hands and the pout she was squeezing onto his lips was absolutely adorable. momo zoned out, staring at his cute features for about ten seconds. okarun, curious, opened his doe eyes, causing momo to snap out of it.

she snatched her hand away from his face, digging through her makeup bag to avoid eye contact.

"I didn't know you were so into makeup..." okarun said, trying to ease the awkwardness.

"uh... yea. I wanted to wear it throughout highschool, but I didn't want to go through all of the hassle of getting in trouble every other day. that was more muko's speed..." momo said, pulling out a white concealer. "look up for me."

okarun did as told as she applied the white concealer right under his eye. she fanned it with her hands so it would dry faster. he grabbed a mirror, curious to see what she was doing to him.

"this looks cool!" he encouraged. "is working on a 'fresh face' helping you?"

momo smiled at him. "yea... you're a good canvas."

they stared at each other for a moment before momo broke eye contact to grab some eye shadow. "wanna pick out your color?"

"sure. uh... how about blue?"

momo dipped into a pan of pastel blue eye shadow. he closed his eyes, and she dragged the pigment across his lids until she was satisfied. then she added some fake lashes to his top and bottom lashes and topped everything off with a little glitter. she popped the cap back on the glitter eye shadow and plopped a hand held mirror into okarun soft hands.

"what do you think?"

he looked at his reflection. "as far as I know, this looks pretty good. I don't know much about makeup but it looks nice to me. all though, when you replicate this on yourself, you should do pink instead." he paused, contemplating on whether not he should keep talking. "the pink would look good on you... just about anything looks good on you."

momo's eye widened, the eye shadow falling out of her hand and hitting the ground. okarun quickly picked it up for her.

"are you okay?"

"you think i look good?" momo asked.

okarun scratched the back of his neck, his face turning pink. "yea... i've always thought you were pretty, miss ayase."

her heart skipped a beat.

"thanks." she mumbled nervously, trying to think of something to say. "you're pretty, too."

okarun's eye widened this time, then he couldn't help but let out a laugh. momo shoved her face in her hands.

"no! I didn't mean pretty. I just meant, like-"

"any good looks of mine are thanks to you. you did me up nice." okarun smiled at her. momo blushed.

"not all of them." she admitted. "you have cute hair."

she brought her slender hand up to his head and let one of his curls wrap around her finger. okarun leaned into her touch unconsciously. she ran her fingers through his messy hair until she got to the undercut at the nape of his neck.

"i especially like this, here." her nails grazed the short hair, causing okarun to screw his eyes shut and shutter. he could sit and let her play with his hair all night. he kept his eyes closed and leaned more into her touch, his lips falling against her wrist. unconsciously, he wrapped his fingers around her arm, pulling her palm to his lips and planting a soft kiss there.

the two nerds froze. momo snatched her arm away and okarun scooted away from her entirely.

"i'm so sorry, miss ayase! I don't know why I did that." he shoved his face into his palms, muffling his speech. "I'm an awkward guy-"

"that's okay!" momo said a little louder than intended, trying to cut him off before she lost her mind. "here! there are some makeup removing wipes. i'm gonna head to bed. I'll see you in the morning. oh, um. don't forget to rinse after using these. ok. goodnight."

and with that, momo snatched up her makeup bag and scrambled into her bedroom. she tossed her bag to the side and plopped facedown onto her bed. after a moment, she dialed tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum. she couldn't have those too screwing up this awkward situation any worse.

meanwhile, ken stood in his bathroom, scrubbing his eyes of the makeup. why did he do that? what was he thinking? momo could've slapped him across the face, or worse; laughed in his face! he probably made her so uncomfortable. why did he have to screw up their perfectly normal living situation.

he made sure to rinse his face off, then crept into bed. he laid on his back, staring at the ceiling as if momo's reciprocated feelings lie hidden in it. okarun liked momo. he wanted to be with her- more than roommates. he wanted them to kiss, and cuddle, and go on dates. he wanted to pay for her meals and surprise her with cool hidden talents. he wanted to see her dressed up, her hair in that ponytail he liked so much. he wanted to sleep next to her; to hold her close to him, easing her restlessness and soaking in her warmth. he wanted to wake up next to her, plant a kiss on her warm cheek and then head into the kitchen and put on her morning coffee.

but did she want any of that with him?

momo tossed her phone to the floor, still processing the events. she stared at her palm, burning a hold into the spot where okarun's lips were only a little while ago. it tingled. she wanted more. momo wanted more of okarun. she wished he would've kissed her on the lips and that they spent the night on the couch together, a stupid sci-fi movie quietly in the background. she wanted play with his hair and see the way he melted into her touch again. she wanted to go on adventures with him, make memories and share experiences with just them. she wanted to make him meals everyday and attend his track meets, so she could be the loudest one in the audience, cheering him on.

but did he want any of that with her?

duh! these two morons. as book smart as they are, you would think they'd be decent at catching a damn clue. maybe they'd figure it out in the morning.

ੈ♡˳

[misteria247]

It Started with Coffee

Stanley Pines wasn't the type to believe in love. For him love had happened once, and that had ended up with him nearly losing his car to a woman he thought had felt the same. So for a very long time, he carried on. Focusing on what was important to him, rebuilding the portal to get Ford back and taking care of Mabel and Dipper as well as Soos and Wendy. And he was content. Until one day, he wasn't. And it was because of one man in particular who threw a wrench into everything.

Fiddleford H. Mcgucket.

Fiddleford for the longest time, to Stan was nothing more than old man Mcgucket. The town crazy hick who lived with the raccoons and who tried to talk to him on occasion in his half sane ramblings. Then Weirdmageddon happened and suddenly Fiddleford was around more often than not. And with that, came the recovering inventor's attempts to talk to him. At first Stan didn't try to respond back, not wanting to entertain the hillbilly because he was missing his twin. It worked for awhile until one day when the stubborn old coot crossed the line. It was morning and Stanley along with the kids and his brother had decided to go to Greasy's to get breakfast. Along the way they'd run into Fiddleford and Ford of course invited him along as well as the kids. Stanley didn't protest, not wanting to ruin their excitement. It was when they'd been seated and were getting ready to order that it happened.

Ford had begun to list off their orders, and accidentally messed up Stan's. The younger twin was going to leave it be. Not wanting to bother his brother with something so trivial when the skinny bean pole from beside Stanford spoke up.

"Ah wait! Stanferd you messed up Stanley's order, he takes his coffee with 3 sugars. He likes sweet things."

Fiddleford was met with a wide eyed stare from his best friend. Mabel and Dipper were also staring, jaws open in awe. Stanley meanwhile just looked at the genius, dumbfounded.

'How in the hell did he notice that? It's not like I broadcast it to the whole world.'

The con man thought, puzzled and annoyed that he couldn't put said puzzle together. Once the shock wore off, the group of five slowly again resumed conversation. But all the while Stan's gaze continued to flicker towards Fiddleford. Confused and wanting answers. It was when their meals and coffee were finished and Dipper awkwardly and shyly said goodbye to the waitress. (Pacifica he believed her name was). That he finally got the chance to somewhat corner the other man. He walked slower to match Fiddleford's pace, letting the kids and Ford walk further ahead of the two of them. And once far enough Stanley finally looked at him.

"How did you know?"

Stanley's question seemed to catch Fiddleford off guard. Hazel green eyes behind glasses snapping to meet dark brown. Fiddleford opened his mouth to respond before closing it again, looking suddenly sheepish and embarrassed.

"Ah well, I uh developed a habit of sorts. Whenever I have a right old time trying to remember people who are important to me. I'll start watching em and making mental notes about em...."

The country hick rambled, looking nervous and uneasy. Stanley just stared, stunned. Fiddleford had thought he was important enough to remember details about him. And not just details anyone would know, but details miniscule enough to be overlooked.

"Yer implying I'm important enough to remember?"

The con man asked, unable to stop the disbelief. The other man looked at him again, eyes wide with his own disbelief.

"Yes?? I reckon so?? Why wouldn't I?? You're important just as much as everyone else."

Fiddleford said suddenly firm in the statement. Stanley just stared, expression unreadable for a beat before seeming to come to a conclusion.

"Heh, whatever you say Mcgucket. If you're gonna be doing that, then I'm gonna have to start doing it too. Can't have just me being important."

Fiddleford's eyes flashed with something in that moment before a grin came on his face.

"Alrighty then."

Stanley didn't believe in love. Didn't believe in the word nor what people said about it. But......maybe he can learn. Especially if this man was willing to stick around. Perhaps, there was such a thing. If Fiddleford continued to throw that wrench, then maybe Stanley could come around to believing it.

[tackykachowch]

You know, I thought about it for a while, and it's literally so jarring that Jinx's mental illness is treated as a plot device in s2. And because of this people in the fandom try to find a reasonable explanation for this change, because writers couldn't possibly do something stupid, right? "Jinx isn't in such a hostile environment anymore so that's why she's more stable", "She's not conflicted about being Powder or Jinx anymore so she's better now", "Silco forgave Jinx and called her perfect so her hallucinations disappeared", "Isha brought her inner piece" etc etc. Like. Mental illnesses don't work like that. At all. And the fact that writers just let this bunch of crap stay in the script and be turned into the actual season of a television show just baffles me. It's not like I'm genuinely shocked - I'm really not, I know that society doesn't care about mentally ill people at all, but to do this in such a way.....it's just plain insulting and idiotic. Like, imagine if Viktor's leg suddenly got better in season 1 act2 because he's not an assistant anymore, he's closer to realizing his dream than ever before, and he has a best friend/lab partner who always supports him. What? Viewers are not stupid? Physical disabilities don't work like that, you say? *Then what is the damn difference*. Mental disabilities are the same as physical, and the fact that they're generally unseen by other people doesn't change anything. They should be treated with the same level of responsibility, seriousness and respect as any other physical disability/disease. Treating this topic any other way is insulting to the mentally ill people in general, it's insulting to viewers' intelligence, and it's insulting to the very nature of human experience. If you can't be bothered to try and understand, to emphasize with people who are going through the problems you want to touch on in your work, why would you want to even create such a work? For what purpose? To stroke your own ego or try to look more "noble" or something? No matter how you look at it, this situation is disgusting. I understand that people in the fandom want to approach Jinx's mental state change in s2 in good faith, but I personally won't take any of it. This is an extremely harmful thing to do, whether intentionally or not. But the thing is, they didn't have the right to be unintentional with this, because they're writers on a big project with a massive audience. If you're willing to take a chance with such a work, well....I won't have you in a high regard, to put it lightly.

[itzstarzwrld]

Since no one asked, I'mma yap about my au

(idk why I'm putting this here but just in case anyone gets confused: (name) = reader)

pt. 1 pt. 2

pls ignore how bad the pic is 🙏🏾😭

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

In this au, it takes place somewhere in the middle/end where the events do happen but there's a twist:

Bee is a whoops baby

(name) and Optimus already have a kid of their own

Elita-1 and (name) have slight beef with each other

And in this post, I'm gonna break this down and explain as best as I can.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I'm gonna start with:

"Who is Striker?"

Striker is the kid of Optimus and (name).

"Why'd you give them a kid?"

To try and make the story sound a little more interesting(???). And as I was making this I thought "hmm, wouldn't it be nice if reader and OP had a sparkling so that way the drama was a little bit more complicated?"

"What is Striker's gender/ what do they look like?"

Well I'm glad you asked! even tho I can't draw, Striker is a femme that took more of (name)'s personality but mostly has Optimus' frame (and colors but Striker has (name)'s optics).

"How'd you come up with the name?"

I came up with it as I was making the picture and after like 30 minutes of thinking "alright, fuck it we calling 'em Striker"

"How old is Striker?"

I would say that Striker is about 4-5 (or 6) during the events while only being one year older than Bee.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"What is the beef between (name) and Elita-1/how did it start?"

After the events in the fic (name) is angry at Elita because:

She never knew one of her closest friends would be in a secret relationship with her supposed lover

(name) believes that its mostly Elita's fault for allowing Optimus to just swoon her into dating him.

On Elita's side of the story:

She really doesn't do anything about it because she knows those things are true and now their relationship is strained because of her actions (same thing with Optimus).

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"What is Optimus' relationship with Striker and Bee?"

even though after the whole incident and basically divorcing w/ (name) Optimus decided that even though they split, he still wanted to be part of Striker's life and at least try to be a father figure.

As for Bee, he's mostly there with him more than he is with Striker (but he doesn't realize that because he's trying so hard to be a father figure to the both of them) and it makes (name) really upset making them think that he's only with Bee because it's his and Elita's kid.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"Does (name) stay with the Autobots?"

Even though she is angry at Optimus and Elita (name) decided to stay with The Autobots and doesn't join the Deceptions for the sake of Striker.

"Does (name) end up being with someone else?"

Yes and No. After the incident and everything happening, (name) doesn't focus on finding someone else, they focus on Striker and being with The Autobots but they sometimes do get a bit flirty with Ratchet.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑟𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑎𝑢!!! 𝑙𝑚𝑘 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑢𝑦𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘!!! :)

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay

[hauntingblue]

WATER SEVEN BABYYYYY

Look at robin reacting when luffy says he wont give her up.... 🥺🥺

This is a joke right now but its actually a one piece tenet aldjsisjka

Usopp aksbaksjakqk the foreshadow is foreshadowing... Also Robin being happy with the crew after the Aokiji incident... Fuck!!!!

Sanji thinking robin just vanished or flew away and suddenly usopp is soaring thru the skies... imagine

AAAAARGGGGHHHH YOU CAN SEE THE GEARS TURNING

Zoro talking to merry..... only while he is alone of course

Why are nami and sanji matching ajdhakjsk look at the citrus sisters

Carpenter: maybe it was the government

Gov agent: I don't think so, also don't say that they are everywhere

LUFFY SUPPORTS WOMEN'S WRONGS!!!

Don't scream att chopper like that!!! Look at him... So small....

Imu tease???? (No) (Also I've changed websites again bc the translation is kinda off , I can't find a good quality b&w spanish translation and the colors scare me (i want the real manga experience))

GET HIM ICEBURG!!!!

I truly forgor if this is just a lie about her wanting to find the rio poneglyphs or genuine because she wants to die and will do it for them... because in skypiea she says she is not interested in the weapons so maybe if the gov pardons her but considering what she wants is illegal then idk abdjabjs this is such a dumb thing to forget... like thats important girl where did it go (reading this after remembering and it's kinda funny... i will make any sacrifice to kill myself (and keep you safe)... she goes HARD)

Little paulie and mozu and kiwi.... omg hello (the SBS says the twins wanted to be shipwrights too omg)

Franky's backstory is small but it does so much for me like it is so central to the themes... boats and people...

DID SOMEBODY ORDER MORE TRAGIC BROTHERS?

The fact that franky needs to learn this lesson to pass it on to robin.... do you understand how big this is.... also Tom does exactly as he says and takes responsibility for franky and what he has done... because he has done nothing wrong AND THAT'S HIS SON and he just punched spandam bc he wanta him to feel the pain franky feels... Tom is such a man..... proud of having built eater 7 up with the sea train.... goes out with a boom.... should we all kill ourselves....

I am crying again................... franky my god.... and the fucking frog!!! And of course franky can't stop Tom's hope for his island... of course he can't.... he hasnt learnt the lesson yet but this guy isn't over yet!! He has a life of being a pervert cyborg ahead!!! Iceburg following Tom's footsteps but franky not being able to do that bc of his guilt....

This is one of the coolest things chopper has done btw...

NAMII 😭😭😭

Robin damning the world for her crew when all she has ever done is damn her companions for her own sake.... how big is this...

I can't take this...... it's always nami in these positions... it happens AGAIN in Zou with Sanji... there is no way

The love letter gag is too good like damn that's so funny

AND IT'S NAMI GOING THROUGH IT AGAIN!!!! SHE LOVES ROBIN SO MUCH!!!!

[kalinara]

The one(s) with Baby Scott remind me of that panel that everyone likes to use to make fun of him, or at least AvX.

Folks really do like to make fun of this panel. But they ignore and/or miss the context.

Scott isn't criticizing or attacking Bruce here. He's asking for help. Because he's a child who appeared in a terrifying future to learn that he's (apparently) going to betray everything and everyone he's ever loved. He has learned that HE is the one who is going to kill the man who saved him and gave him everything.

(As much as I hate Xavier, I can't deny that Scott loves him and has good reasons to.)

Fortunately Bruce DOES recognize the context and advises accordingly.

(From the Superior Spider-Man Team Up)

This isn't a funny scene. This is a very quiet, very un-dramatic, but very genuine moment where Bruce Banner is talking a kid out of suicide.

And while the bulk of the blame goes to adult Hank, you can't tell me that moment where Logan holds his claws to his throat in front of a completely silent crowd (with the adult version of at least one of his closest friends), and suggests trading him for Charles Xavier, didn't play a part in this.

I always really wished we got a scene where Bruce actually called Logan and Hank out for this bullshit. But there you go.

--

It does occur to me that the Hope scene has a weird element of being both a tiny bit heartwarming and also proof that Logan learned nothing.

So Hope is trying to assassinate someone. Maybe. I'm not clear on that. There are lots of angry mutants though, helping her. But she and Scott end up having a confrontation, while she holds him at gunpoint.

I mean, it's not a great situation, but it's also not like Nathan hasn't held his father at gunpoint on a regular basis in the 90s and early 00s. Scott's used to this.

I don't really blame Wolverine for jumping in here though, because generally holding someone at gunpoint is not great. Also, I feel like stabbing was probably not necessary. You COULD have just knocked her over the head. (I mean, IRL, that would probably be bad too. But comics work on the same logic as television and concussions are optional.)

It does however lead to Hope shooting her grandfather in the head. Oops.

That's when you get the part where Logan tries to kill her outright. (Amusingly, for all her earlier monologue about how she and Scott are nothing to each other now that Nathan is dead, she does say "thanks for the powers, Grandpa".)

This part's actually a little heartwarming if you're a shipper:

Fortunately, she ends up using Logan's healing factor and surviving.

As a tangent, I really enjoy seeing the damage done to Wolverine from Hope's borrowed optic blasts. It illustrates how much Scott holds back when he and Logan fight.

Also, tangential bonus:

We can't even really credit Hope's incredible aiming skills for the fact that she managed to shoot his eye out without any sort of damage to the rest of his pretty, pretty face.

The universe just wants to keep this man beautiful. (It doesn't want to face Jean's wrath if it doesn't, perhaps.)

But anyway, it's heartwarming to see Logan actually acknowledge that he cares about Scott. It's also pretty eye-rolling though that he hasn't really learned anything from AvX though. Yet again, he's blaming someone for the accidental (only apparent this time) death of someone he loved, ignoring his own role in the accident, and outright shamelessly attempting to murder a child.

Tsk.

(The Hope, Logan and Scott scans are all from Uncanny X-Men #15)

Logan shouldn't be allowed near children

I know that's a loaded title but I stand by it. There's obviously an element of Flanderisation going on but considering his stated reason for opening the Jean Grey school he is far too eager to murder children.

Why TF is he leaping at children, snarling with his claws out? Check out the frothing drool.

For example, in All-New X-Men, the O5 have just been bought to the future by Hank McCoy. He stops teaching his violence through yelling class and heads out the front, leaping at the 16 year olds with his claws out. Not Hank, who brought them there but clearly traumatised children - while screaming like a lunatic of course. Even if he's not trying to kill them, what purpose does terrifying them serve? He clearly IS trying to kill them, though. I'm sure his students would love to see their headmaster butcher confused children in front of them.

Unsurprisingly, he scares the fuck out of them. In part influenced by constant threats of his violence, the O5 steal the X-Jet and flee, explicitly doubting this guy is an X-Man. His thoughts about the 16 year old Jean Grey... No dude, this isn't the Jean you know. She's a child you've tried to kill. Fucking creep.

This one is great. Young Scott has enough going on without this frothing beast advocating for his immediate execution as punishment for his future self's actions. Out front of the school with literally everyone watching. He's using his authority to advocate for slaughtering a child. Thankfully nobody agrees with him, but this is traumatic, terrifying, and affects Scott especially so badly he runs away.

No wonder he freaks out and leaves. Obviously the headmaster of a school should drop what he's doing, not for his wellbeing but to get his bike back. How is he in charge of anyone's wellbeing or moral instruction? He demands absolute obedience while doing nothing to deserve it. It's all about how Logan feels.

Here he is trying to gut a 15 year old Wiccan for having Scarlet Witch vibes, not for the or last time. I'm a little surprised he remained an Avenger after this. When you have knives for hands everyone looks like a pincushion. Except that's not it, because everyone else is a living weapon too and they mostly manage to be somewhat rational.

Why are his claws out here? Is he trying to kill him? What did he expect after threatening and traumatizing him? Snarling and shouting like an animal - isn't he trying to emulate Chuck here?

I can't remember why he's doing this but it's not the first time he's tried to kill Hope. Didn't work then either.

A 16 year old Jean uses a telepathic projection of the Phoenix to aid Wolverine in a fight. He stupidly thinks it's real and straight up tries to kill her. The bad guys get away. Not sure how many times he has to attempt to kill the Phoenix before he understands it's not an appropriate thing to do, nor is it about him. He's more like Sabertooth than he thinks, except he thinks he's in the right and somehow never gets called out. Logan has advanced senses - how is his instinct to straight up kill her instead of investigating further?

We can do better

I think that once Logan reached a certain point of saturation he became static. The lone wolf that's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is behave so unpleasantly it's hard to believe anyone would want to be near him, let alone allow him to run a school. He says 'bub' a lot and he snikts at the drop of a hat while repeating the same interpersonal drama over and over. I see him as a frequent self insert for the worst kind of toxic masculinity yet he's more popular than ever. No judgement if you like him at all, but I think the character deserves better. Somehow he's still a misunderstood loner despite a lot of people knowing him very well - with the amount of teams and books he's in he has the most active social life in 616. It'll never happen but I'd like to see him retire, as there are several Wolverines better than he..

[trimmedarmor]

doing the equivalent of gripping something intensely hard then forcing myself to let it go every time i see something about the stupid fandom drama i got pulled into earlier this year

[cherrymoonvol6]

the worst part about flapjack's death is that luz and hunter's friendship died right along with it lmao

[billygoat26]

Guys- moots who know me well enough kind of-

I'm not simping solely for fictional characters anymore-

...

I hate this, it's weird, I wanna say something to them or at least one of my other irl friends but I'm too scared that 1: they'll judge me and 2: they'll TELL HIM. Dear god I do not need that-

BUT IT WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE (aka it's been on my mind for a few hours too long)

Yesterday, pool party with friends, right?

I knew that he did some workout stuff but I still was NOT prepared- (me, who was fully expecting him to wear some form of his normal outfit but for the pool- noooooope! Shirtless- very unprepared)

And listen, I knew I at least sort of like-liked him before cuz you know, personality and all that stuff, but come onnnn- like- what do I do now??

And then they were playing chicken fights in the pool or whatever the game is called, and after that they were standing on each other's shoulders and pretending to walk on water (We all had just endured a bible unit in our English classes)

He had offered for ME to stand on HIS shoulders- and for that to happen, you know, they gotta swim under, right? Well, we both have the dirtiest of minds (I also just have shitty balance so I was not about to try that anyways. That was the main reason on my mind but I thought of the other stuff after).

I don't even know if I have blushed since elementary school, but if I did then, then thank god for the sun because sunburnsssss

And then he couldn't find his shirt after we had all gotten out, and one of my other friends said that he didn't need the shirt (jokingly) and dear god I wanted to agree (verbally) but I'm too worried about my whole bullshit being too obvious if I did, so I just had to stay quiet. (He ended up not finding it and just having to leave cuz his parents were there)

But that- that day- just... that. It's not. Leaving. My. Mind. Alone.