#who basically adopted me for a summer

[femmeboyhooters]

Hung out with someone i never hung out wirh before yesterday and it really made me miss the concept of family

[eggs-can-draw]

STOLEN from an idea the lovely @g-eetings had with the v3 kids all getting together and healing on jabberwock after v3

[landograndprix]

「Baby fever ๛ c.l」

✧.* in which the two of you get hit by baby fever a little too much and a little too often and are not that subtle about it.

✧.*...i saw that french video on youtube of him teasing pierre like "i'm gonna call Kika tonight and motivate her, saying you're ready" (to be a father). I would love to see reader and him having baby fever and people roasting him for that. It's not a great idea, i know. for real, anything is great for a charles leclerc smau. // you're telling me, someone who's in a constant state of baby fever, that this is not a great idea? girl this is everything to me 🥺 this kinda took a turn but hope you like it nevertheless

✧.* taglist & requests are open!

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

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📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, joris__trouche and 98,896 others

y/nusername babe sittin' this week 💗

view all 567 comments

julieeeexo omg where are you getting all these kids from girl 😭

sharl16 their friends and family won't stop having kids 💀

lolaaaa can you adopt me pls I'd do anything..

charles_leclerc 😍😍

charles_leclerc fais-leur un câlin de ma part! ❤️

bananaclerc I have no idea what it says but yes..

bott_ass he basically said to give them a hug!

bananalerc oh eughghh disgusting 🥰🤢

hamilt44n would never understand why someone would babysit for more than a few hours but you do you baby 😍

joris__trouche quand vais-je recevoir mon filleul? when do i get my godchild?

y/nusername je ne le veux pas près de chez toi de toute façon don't want it near you anyway

joris__trouche appelle-le au moins Joris at least name it joris

youdidaverstappen wait are they saying there's a baby on the way or am I tweaking? 😭

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y/nusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbestfrienduser and 88,675 others

y/nusername summer with some favourites ft. spiderman 🕸

view all 499 comments

estebanocon wow you met spiderman?

y/nusername the one and only!

leclerccharlew aw mom and dad practicing to be mom and dad 🥺

charlessixteen I want to thank y/n for giving us starved charles girlies some Charles content

yourbestfrienduser when are you going to bring spiderman back home?

charles_leclerc when he wants to go home

yourbestfrienduser great so he's not coming home for the next 16 years?

charlos16 these are the first signs of kidnapping 🤪

charles_leclerc des crimes graves ont été commis aujourd'hui 🕷🕸 serious crimes were committed today

y/nleclerccc hope he locked up some ferrari strategist..

norry4 7th picture is too cute can't wait to see an actual baby leclerc 🥺

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charles_leclerc posted on their story

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max taglist;

charles taglist;

lando taglist;

everything taglist;

[moongreenlight]

More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him

He’s your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends ‘xx.’

He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.

He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didn’t mean anything, but he just couldn’t understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. “Tosser can’t cope with the fact he’ll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.”

His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. He’s started signing off “Garrick. x.”

Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. He’s bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.

He barely stays long enough to say his hello’s to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how “you’d be in a hurry, too. Couldn’t even get away with a wank in the shower.” And “s’your duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, don’t you?” You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now he’s cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.

You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it.

So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. You’ve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.

He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.

Even though you’re seeing him less nowadays, he’s still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.

He seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didn’t know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after you’d said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.

It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasn’t for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of “if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

You’ve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion you’ve come to. Or why he’s suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.

[miraclewoozi]

DRIVE. - l.c

DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.

pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!

SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).

You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 

Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 

Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 

You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 

It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.

Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.

Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 

And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.

In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 

Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.

Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–

And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 

You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”

His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”

“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”

You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.

In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”

It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 

‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’

If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 

Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –

Clink.

Stupid. Fucking. Stones.

A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.

You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 

Black dahlias.

You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)

Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”

He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”

He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”

“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”

“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 

His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 

“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”

“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”

Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.

“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”

“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”

“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”

You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 

But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.

All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 

“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 

Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.

But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 

With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.

All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 

He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 

Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?

You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.

“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 

You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 

“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”

“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.

He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 

But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”

Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 

“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”

You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.

“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”

But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”

Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?

“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”

You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”

“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”

“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”

He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.

“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”

“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”

“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”

You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 

“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”

He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?

Well, tell a lie. 

There is one more. 

“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 

You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 

You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 

Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —

A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 

Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”

“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 

Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 

You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.

“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 

“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”

“You’re the someone else.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“I’m—?”

“You.”

The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 

“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 

Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”

“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 

“Yes — you are.”

“Am not!”

“Are too.”

“No, you’re just an idiot.”

“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”

“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 

“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 

“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”

“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”

He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 

Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 

He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 

“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 

“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 

“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”

Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 

There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 

“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 

You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 

(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)

Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 

It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.

“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 

“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”

“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 

Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 

You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”

And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 

“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”

Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 

“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”

Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 

“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 

He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 

It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 

You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 

Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.

“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 

He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 

You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 

He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 

“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 

Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 

“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”

It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 

“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 

You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 

When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 

“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 

“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah—”

Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 

God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 

He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 

“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.

“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)

thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3

[hippielittlemetalhead]

I don't have the time for another fic or snippet or whatever but I had an idea. Drummer!Steve, right? And a common thing I'm seeing in that is that Gareth knows and is the one that taught him or got him started on the basics or told him where to go for gear... But what if... Envision with me...

Steve Harrington played the drums in middle school. He was a dramatic band kid and sports-type hybrid. He's the only drummer his school has and he's really good so administration makes it work with sports things cause sports & arts grants would really help the school and looks good at fundraisers so they need him but other kids think it's special treatment cause the Harrington name. Anywho, Steve is starting 8th grade and administration is in a bit of a tizzy over finding a new drummer for band stuff to replace him after graduating cause no one else wants to pick it up.

Enter Gareth. He's technically one of the flute (or violin Idk which I'd prefer for this) kids but Steve catches him playing around with his set after school one day. Steve convinces the kid to learn how to play drums for the rest of the year and through summer so next year he can try out for band again and take over as drummer. Gareth takes it but doesn't want anyone to know he's getting all buddy-buddy with Harrington cause he JUST got the guys who were in the talent show last year with a metal song to notice him and include him in their little tight-knight group and he WILL NOT let Steve Harrington of all people ruin that for him.

Fast forward a few years and Eddie survived the Upside Down, the rest of Corroded Coffin got read in while helping take care of the aftermath. Everything is okay and good and over now. But Gareth has a kind of fucked up hand. Jason Carver injured it and it never managed to heal quite right in the everything that came after. Thanks to government cover-up medical care there's a way to fix him up but it'll take time and as Eddie and the rest of Corroded Coffin keeps lamenting, C.C. has gigs to play and demos to record and- and- and- and Gareth asks if Eddie will shut up if he can come up with a replacement drummer.

Eddie and the band are hesitant until Gareth admits it's the guy who taught him to play and the guy is probably still just as good, if not better than him. So they have to promise to not replace him with the guy if he can convince him to help them out. Corroded Coffin swears on Dustin's mother (Claudia Henderson is a goddess amongst mortals and once she got read in put Joyce Byers to shame in her audacity dealing with the government bullshit) to not replace Gareth if he can bring this mystery drummer by next practice.

Gareth lets them into the garage next week for practice telling them his temp will be there any minute. As everyone else is finishing setting up a burgundy BMW pulls up, not unusual cause sometimes Steve will come by practice with snacks and just hang out while killing time between work and dealing with the kids. And the Steve that steps out of the BMW has an armful of food that's probably delicious but Freak notices that the hand that lifts for his signature little finger waggle of a wave has something else in it. He turns to Gareth with a giant grin on his face who turns bright red and grits out for him to not say a word.

"Heya guys, hear you need a drummer?"

Eddie's face falls. "No." He desperately turns to Gareth, "Please tell me this is just another very niche dream of something that will never happen to me in my waking hours." Gareth can't.

And Idk, Jeff and Freak don't quite believe that he's that good cause it's been a few years and Steve plays one of their originals making Eddie practically drool but everyone else is too flabbergasted to give him shit.

And somewhere between practices and Gareth finally letting himself be adopted by Steve (partially cause he is peak older sibling vibes but also it drives Eddie mad the guy he's falling for basically being one of his best friend's older brother. Idfk) Eddie and Steve figure their shit out and start dating. Maybe with a jealous Dustin cause HE adopted Steve first, how dare Gareth come and steal his rightfully shanghaied older sibling/best friend?

That's all I got. Someone take this and go crazy.

[abominable-space-they]

A modern Lulaw au in which Law is a tattoo artist at a long established well respected tattoo shop owned by the Donquixote Brothers, Wild at Heart

Law's been trying to convince them to hire traditionally trained piercers to open an internal dedicated piercing studio forever but Doffy doesn't like any idea that isn't his so he keeps shutting Law down

As a compromise Rosinante starts booking extremely well respected, highly trained traveling piercers both to show Doffy it would make money and to give him a chance to imagine it was his idea all along

Luffy is a traveling piercer who's considered a huge legacy kid celebrity in the body mod community

He was born to, adopted and taught by pioneers in modern body modification. His dads are The Revolutionary Dragon & Sir Crocodile themselves.

Because Luffy's so huge in the scene, Rosi books him for the whole summer season instead of just a couple weekends

Rosinante likes Luffy's tenacity and the total lack of fucks he gives high society and their rules. If there is anyone with the skill, clout, and charisma to convince Doflamingo, it's this kid

When Law meets Luffy, he kinda hates him at first.

Luffy is dressed like he's going to the beach in late fall. Flip flops and a sun hat! Who dresses like that?! And he's way to childish for his age, way to casual with everyone, to disrespectful to the art of body modification. And to top it off he's always moving around, bouncing, bopping, and talk talk talking. Within 20 minutes of their meeting, he asks Law to take him clubbing so he can get familiar with the local queer music scene.

Law says no of course

Luffy asks again

10 million times

(Law's not tempted to just do it, he's not, he hates popularity obsessed scene gays, Luffy obliviously is one. Ugh!)

Then it's time for Luffy's first piercing appt. The client is some youngish kid. It's his birthday and he wants a piercing to celebrate being old enough to legally get one.

Luffy locks in, befriends the kid instantly, asking all manner of questions. He finds out that the kid got a job and worked after school to save up for Luffy's fee for months. He's barely scraped up enough money for a basic piercing with the basic jewelry.

Luffy's calm, confident, professional bedside manner shocks Law. He's so gently reassuring and soft spoken. It's dumbfounding to watch. It's like Luffy got body swapped with some other mature adult responsible piercer.

Before he'll even do the piercing Luffy sits down and keeps talking to the kid till he finds out what the kid actually wanted pierced, what jewelry he dreamed of and he upgrades it for free.

Afterwards Luffy gives the kid high protein snacks and a drink out of his own back pack.

When the kid hands over his card to pay, Luffy only charges him for the snack

Law: you can't just hand out free piercings, my uncle will have your head on a platter, and I for one don't feel like listening to the screaming

Luffy: Don't worry so much Lala. I paid for it. I'm not afraid of Mingo and I'm not shorting anyone.

Law: that's not my name... You know what? Nevermind. Why would you bother to upsell him and then pay for it out of pocket?

Luffy: Silly Lala, I wasn't up selling him, I was giving him what he really wanted. He's a kid. He should spend his money on making his dreams come true. Studios charge to many fees. It's why I don't really work in them. Don't worry about me so much. I won't starve to death paying for one little piercing. It's fine.

Law: Don't be ridiculous, I'm not worried about you starving to death.

Luffy, grinning like mad at him: cool. I'm hungry too. We should get something to eat before I actually do starve.

He's just to charming in such a casual sincere way... And now Law understands why Luffy is basically a folk hero, why everyone who meets him, loves him. Now going clubbing with him doesn't sound so bad.

Law: hmmm well don't go crazy waiving fees, you still have to pay your chair fees. I'll pick up the next one you just absolutely have to comp. There's food in the back for now... and I'll pick you up at nine. If I'm taking you dancing, we need to eat first. I've seen the way you put food away, constantly and like you're starving. I'm gonna feed you before you end up at some leather bar stuffed with tequila and poppers

Luffy: Leather Lala? Ooh. I didn't know we were on poppers terms. I'm a good boy, buy me dinner first. I'm hungryyyy

Law, malfunctioning in embarrassment: I am buying you dinner! I just said that! I mean... You know that's not what I meant.

Luffy: no no you asked me out, you you wanna fill me up and work me out, you started it. I'm invested now. We have to do it. We have to go on a dancing and dinner date.

Law, pretending he isn't ecstatic: fine... Just be ready at nine, I'll make reservations somewhere nice for dinner

It's the Baratie, of course it's the Baratie.

Sanji knows them both. Luffy is his boyfriend's best friend and practically lives at their place.

He and Law are both from up north, they dated way back when they were both trying to force themselves through academics. They both quit college to apprentice in the arts they loved, and decided they were better off as just friends.

They were just to much alike in all the wrong ways

They stayed friends over the years though they're both to busy with their adult lives to see each other to much

Sanji takes one look at Luffy and Law together and cackling evily, calls Nami immediately to tell her that he needs to place a bet that Luffy gets engaged or married within two years.

Nami is livid that he won't share his insider information, Luffy doesn't even date like that

Sanji: Well he's dating now Nami my sweet and totally reasonable beloved best friend. Wait till you see them together. I just know you'll agree with me.

Law, not incidentally does get invited to family dinner that weekend. He begrudgingly accepts

Luffy is ecstatic, he's already decided he's keeping Lala forever and if his real chosen family gets along with him, that makes it even easier.

It's fate. They're gonna be together forever.

Five years later when Doffy & Rosi retire to travel. Law & Luffy rename Wild at Heart, Two Wild Hearts Ink & Steel.

Luffy has his own dedicated piercing studio where he comps almost every single piercing because he just adores people so much.

He can't help himself.

Law never minds anymore. Luffy's infamous family loves to come in and pay it forward for months worth of bookings anyway... and it makes Luffy happy to do it

It turns out, Luffy being happy makes Law really deeply spiritually happy

He'd do a lot more then give up a little pocket money for that smile

He doesn't even have it in him to be embarrassed about it anymore

So what Luffy wants, Luffy gets

Thank god Luffy's favorite thing to get is Trafalgar Law, forever.

They're very happy

Doffy swears hiring Luffy was his idea

[rotating-hyperfixations]

Teen Yellowjackets Niche Specific NJ Headcanons:

Watching Yellowjackets has me reflecting on my own teenage hood and I grew up in NJ, so therefore I constantly think way too much about dumb shit they could do that’s specific to growing up in New Jersey and thus this list was born:

Growing up Nat was a CEO catholic (Christmas and Easter only). Her parents don’t really believe, but there’s enough Catholic guilt there from their childhoods that they feel like they should go for the big holidays. They stop going when her dad dies.

Lottie was informally adopted by an elderly Italian couple who owns a deli. In middle school she started going there nightly for dinner when her parents were out of town, and the owners were so confused/disgusted that they always made sure she had a meal free of charge, even though she could pay. Even into high school they give her extra food, she usually pawns it off on Van or Nat, or sometimes Shauna if her mom’s working the night shift at the hospital.

Van worked at a pizza place. She hates it, but they let her take slices home for free and she likes that it feels like one of those jobs a character would work in an 80s coming of age movie.

Jackie’s parents have a beach house in LBI. The soccer team takes it over for one week every summer

Shauna likes to drive down Ocean Ave late at night listening to her mixtape that she made specifically for those drives (this basically a right of passage for teenagers who grew up by the shore, myself included).

There is infighting amongst the team about which is better: Dunkin Donuts or Wawa. They had to put a moratorium on the topic because things were getting too personal.

Van looks up to Kevin Smith and loves Clerks because he was also from a small town in NJ and was able to get his movie made.

Tai is ready and willing to kick anyone’s ass who tries to defend Pineapple on pizza, she thinks it’s a crime against pizza and it should be outlawed. Jackie is a pineapple on pizza enjoyer, this causes problems.

They all live in central Jersey and fight with opposing teams at tournaments and matches about whether or not that section of the state exists.

Nat is a transplant from North Jersey and they all give her shit for her accent that she just can’t shake.

Misty is an NJ transit defender, even though the service barely functions.

Shauna is banned from watching the Giants and Yankees because she has anger issues and spends their entire game yelling at the tv.

Nat and subsequently Van (Nat-Van childhood best friends you are very dear to me) call it Taylor Ham, whereas the rest of the team calls it Pork Roll. Each side has attempted to convert the other, but have yet to be successful.

They were all devastated when Action Park at Vernon Valley closed because it meant they could no longer get shitty cheap beer without being carded.

[remember-digimon]

Prodigious!

Izzy is the reason all these kids are still alive btw just wanted to make sure we all know that

So Izzy is smart. He brings a laptop and cellphone to summer camp and uses big words. But thankfully he does not fall into the trap of 'smart kids' of western media; overly nerdy, completely socially inept, you get the idea. No, Izzy is more than that. His intelligence has a basis in something besides a trope; namely, computer science and engineering.

(Don't even get me started on Matt being the one to go into engineering when IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN IZZY)

From the moment the kids land in the Digital World, Izzy is curious about it. His crest is knowledge but I really think it should've been curiosity. He gets Tentomon to evolve by hacking his code. He comes up with some aliens conspiracy to explain why they're there and why there's things like phone booths on the beach.

Izzy is the problem solver of the group. In fact, without him, the other kids are just... Kinda lost. Izzy has the answers, and if he doesn't he'll at least know how to find them.

Even though he's younger than the others, being 10 when they're 11, they treat him as an equal. This is opposed to the other kid that's 10, Mimi, who is kind of coddled, and the two youngest, TK and Kari, who are literally the hope and light of the group.

Izzy is basically Tai's second-in-command, deferring to Tai's leadership while Tai takes his input very seriously. However, Izzy isn't much of a leader on his own.

He gets distracted by details. When Mimi finds him in the temple, he's so busy on his laptop that she gets upset and runs off into a maze. I would attribute this to him being younger, and as he gets older he does get better at applying his intelligence to a leadership role.

Most of the kids have an interesting family dynamic and Izzy is no different. It's revealed that he's adopted, that his birth parents died shortly after he was born and his adoptive parents were friends that took him in.

What I like about this reveal is that, of course, Izzy found this out on his own due to his curiosity. He overheard his parents discussing whether or not they should tell him, deciding not to because he's too young.

During the Odaiba raid, when the kids have a moment, Izzy gets to finally have the conversation. They admit that he's adopted and tell him what happened, and he says he already knows. He didn't want to bring it up himself because he thought he could just pretend like things were normal, like before he knew. But obviously it couldn't. This shows the price he pays for his curiosity, that sometimes knowing things isn't all fun times and computer jargon. It isn't helpful for Izzy to pretend to not know, to ignore what he knows. Instead it's better for him to apply what he knows to react appropriately, instead of hiding behind the easier mode of willful ignorance.

This also comes into play, though in a different way, during Izzy's confrontation with Vademon. Izzy gives away his curiosity (under extreme duress but still) and is basically empty of all character after that. He does a weird alphabet yoga meditation and willingly gives up his crest and tag, when earlier in the episode his curiosity was at a boiling point over it.

This causes Tentomon to de-digivolve to the baby stage; the only other partner Digimon to go back to this stage is Patamon. With the loss of his curiosity, Izzy has lost the core of his being and is no longer able to maintain Tentomon's existence.

Of course, he gets it back and everything is fine afterwords. This episode is very interesting when looking at how things work for the kids and their Digimon, why the crests are important, etc. But that's a post for another time.

Izzy is incredibly important to the team. Without him, I highly doubt they would've made it very far at all. He's able to look up Digimon on his laptop, kind of like a Digimon version of a Pokedex, when none of the currently present Digimon can give an explanation about who they're up against. But aside from his usefulness as the Smart Kid, it's noteworthy that he uses his intelligence to be helpful instead of lording it over everyone. And he is still a kid, albeit with an impressive vocabulary, so sometimes his curiosity gets him into trouble.

[zil-street]

Stares at Gravity Falls, stares at Malevolent.

Well this was bound to happen eventually.

Malevolent Gravity Falls Au time, baby!

(This is completely unhinged and due to very little sleep)

(I know I still need to write the other AU I have but I’m pretty sure Bill Cipher licked my brain so shh)

So! This would likely take place in Gravity falls time period.

Faroe Lester’s father went missing when she was very young, right after her father had apparently adopted another child, Yellow Lester (shh, I needed a twin and the parallel would work out)

The two have been living with Daniel, and he decided for the summer to send the two to live with their Uncle John who runs a place called the Mystery Shack.

There they discover a book of all the horrible eldritch monsters that apparently run rampant in Gravity Falls.

So basically

John is Stan but without the fake name use (allegedly)

Arthur is Ford.

Faroe is Dipper.

Yellow is Mabel.

Kayne is Bill Cipher.

If you see me post anything about this AU at three in the morning, the demons got me and there is no going back.

[solangelo-taylors-version]

What are your Solangelo headcanons?

I’m so sorry you had to wait so long! I basically spent ages to staring at a wall trying to think up my best ones. So, here you go @hazellevessque!

As soon as Will found out Nico spoke Italian, he immediately went and learned some, and then surprised him

Or, Will speaks Italian because it’s the language of music (just like Piper can speak French because it’s the language of love), and Nico was ranting about losing Capture the Flag to Clarisse. 

He was speaking rapid fire Italian, and Will just came over, and said: "Va tutto bene, amore mio. Calmati. Unisciti alla prossima volta?”

(“It’s okay, my love. Calm down. Team up next time?”)

Nico didn’t know how to ask Will out so he just came up to him and said “Me. You. Tonight. At seven. Be there” and left. 

Will just stood there looking stunned, then went back to his cabin and partied.

(Alternate idea to what they said to Gloria in TSATS)

When Will and Nico adopted their first baby girl (pretty sure this is canon, but I don’t know), they called her Bianca Di Angelo-Solace

Will and Nico both had playlists dedicated to each other and never found out until they were well into the relationship (credit to @a-headcanon-a-day)

Will, as child of Apollo, is as scared of snakes as children of Athena are scared of spiders. He absolutely PANICS.

Nico is very protective of his boyfriend and his instincts always make him grab Will or cover Will with his body whenever some danger occurs. (credit to @nicodisigma)

Will would totally initiate random lightsaber fights. Like he would attack his siblings all the time just...out of nowhere (it's the ADHD).

Kayla would roll her eyes and threaten to snap the saber in half. Austin would play along and fall to the floor and dramatically die.

But the first person to actually fight back was Nico, who secretly has his own lightsaber hidden in the shadows. And he would disarm Will in some sort of fancy move that would leave Will stuttering and blushing because it was hot.

(Fastest way to get to Will's heart is with a lightsaber) (credit to @ace-writer-lani)

Will’s clingy when it’s summer because Nico’s always colder than an average human and Nico’s clingy in the winter because Will is a walking furnace. (Credit to @yonemurishiroku for this one)

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Remember how I mentioned yesterday that Hezbollah had attacked the Northern Command base? It was announced that Ali Hussein, the commander of that aerial strike on the IDF base, has been eliminated.

Hey, remember how the anti-Israel crowd kept insisting that Israel has turned Gaza into a concentration camp, before this war? The IDF has arrived at the summer home (!) of Marwan Issa, the deputy military commander of Hamas in Gaza, and I am trying to remember a single Jewish slave laborer in Dachau, who had a summer home that looks like this, inside the camp...

(screenshots from a vid in Hebrew here, discussing Marwan Issa, his home, and the way Hamas leaders built their wealth)

This is vital: UN Watch have published a report about the Telegram group of UNRWA teachers, who celebrated the massacre of Oct 7, and prided themselves that this was thanks to the education that the terrorists got...

In the US, Jewish stars have signed a letter addressed to the Academy for Motion Picture, Arts and Sciences, protesting the fact that Jews are not on the list for includion, as one of the marginalized groups that suffer from underrepresentation. I've written way before the war about Jewish representation, and how it has never been good enough. But more than that, Most people are incredibly ignorant about Jews, Judaism, Jewish identity, Jewish history, and even some very basic related facts, such as Jews being native to Israel, or that Jews aren't just white people with a less popular religion. Jews have suffered the longest streak of persecution in human history, the most extreme genocide, and yet we're not even recognized as marginalized and discriminated, which means we're discriminated against even among marginalized groups. It's unfathomable, and it has to change, if the west wants to fight antisemitism, and it has to change NOW.

Idan Amedi's condition, which I posted about in my update post yesterday, is said to have improved, he's regained consciousness, can breathe on his own, and even talked a bit to his family.

This is 62 years old Aviva Siegel.

She's one of the hostages that were released. Yesterday, she went to the Knesset (Israel's parliament), and I got to hear her testimony about the sexual abuse and torture of the young women in captivity in Gaza, which she had witnessed firsthand. Aviva recounted that one young hostage asked to go to the bathroom. When she returned, Aviva could tell something was off. The young woman confirmed to her that the terrorist molested her. Aviva went to comfort the girl, but the Hamas terrorist rapist stopped her with gun threats. "He wouldn't even let me hug her after he raped her," Aviva said. She also shared that there was another young woman who was physically tortured based on the suspicion that she was an IDF officer. Aviva's husband is still held in captivity, for 96 days now.

This is Ronen Engel, with his daughters Mika and Yuval.

On Oct 7, Ronen was murdered, his body is still held hostage in Gaza. Yuval and Mika were kidnapped together with their mother Karina, and the three were released during the hostage deal. Two days ago, during the tragedy with the explosives truck in Gaza in which many soldiers were killed and injured 2 days ago, the Engel's family adopted son, 25 years old Amit Shachar, was killed.

May Ronen and Amit's memories be a blessing.

This was just SO sweet, I had to share. Since the fighting in Gaza started, and some soldiers have been away for months at a time, when they do get to come home, people have shared vids of the reunion joy, and this has to be my personal fave so far:

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[monstersandmaw]

I can't believe this story is 14.5k words long. These monthly stories are only supposed to be about 2-3k words long, but hey.

_

It's still June, just... I'm so sorry this didn't appear sooner, but it's a whopping 14.5k words long, so hopefully that makes up for it!

Content: at the end of their first year at the Royal Academy for the Magical Arts, the young, entitled son of the wealthiest family on the continent is partnered for an assignment with a diligent reader from a very humble background, and makes a very poor choice. Years later, after finishing their masters, the reader finds themself having to work with him again, only to find he's not quite as they remember this time around. Also featuring a naga bestie, adoptive dads, a badass dwarven professor, and a chunky cameo from the orc mage, Orrakh from a short story on Tumblr.

(Light spoilers) content warning: reader is drugged to render them unconscious, but nothing untoward happens while they're out, and it's facilitated by their friend. Nsfw: reader gives a blowjob in a sort of semi-public place, and receives oral in return back in private.

Wordcount: 14,565

Extract:

Ambient magicka crackled and coalesced around you, becoming little flashes of light in the air as you strode down the navy blue corridor of the astronomy wing where you’d met your friend. “I worked my ass off for that placement, Alana, and I am not going to let some gilded turd buy his way in beside me and turn it into a farce!”

The naga’s thick, serpentine tail carved a wide swathe through the other student mages as she struggled to keep up with you, until she finally grabbed at the sleeve of your dark robe and yanked you around to face her.

“Take a breath, honey,” she said, pushing her circular, gold-rimmed glasses back up her nose and blinking moss-green eyes at you from her pretty, round face with all its myriad freckles. “From what you’ve told me, Rune is a first class shit, but you’re going to have to work with him.”

“He’s not just a shit, Alana,” you fired back through gritted teeth, aware that you were drawing a bit of an audience beneath the painted vaults of the long corridor. “He’s a rich shit who thinks he can throw money at people and just walk out with whatever he wants! That isn’t going to cut it with Magister Delfan.” The dwarven professor was notoriously impatient when it came to time-wasters, but if you got on her good side, people said she was an absolute blast.

You glowered at your best friend and tried to force down a tide of emotions and memories.

“Delfan wants actual talent,” you went on in a slightly more measured voice, “And I know from experience that Rune is a lazy, good-for-nothing arsehole. I worked with him before in first year? And what the fuck is he doing on a summer placement with Delfan when he’s not even studying her subject?” you added as the realisation hit you.

Rune, rather ironically, had only studied basic runecraft with you in your first year, but had switched subjects in his second. You hadn’t kept track of what he’d been doing in the interim years, but you knew it wasn’t Delfan’s specialism of foci and auxiliary artefacts, and their use in magical rituals.

You let out a tight, wheezing huff of breath and blinked away memories of your humiliating two week project ‘with’ him. It had cost you your friendship with your then-best friend too, and that had hurt almost more than what Rune himself had done.

“If I want the Board to consider appointing me for a research fellowship, I need to finish this placement with Delfan’s endorsement. If Rune fucks this up for me because he’s bored and wants to play the academic for a while, I’m going to ring his scaly neck and turn him into a fucking golden handbag, do you understand me? I don’t care who his father is, I swear to all the gods I’ll do it.”

Alana’s expressive face suddenly struggled to keep back her rush of amusement at the image. You saw the sparkle in her eyes and rolled your own in response, but a little of your anger drained away.

“I’m sorry,” Alana snickered, “But at least you’d get a luxury handbag out of it?”

You caught her laughter and your frustration disintegrated around you like a shattered potion flask.

Still giggling, Alana put her hand on your shoulder and squeezed it as she met your gaze. “You’ll be fine. Delfan is a hard-ass and she’ll recognise your commitment, even if Milordy Goldypants puts in zero effort, alright?”

You snorted a laugh, hefted your leather satchel back onto your shoulder. You’d never told anyone else what Rune had done, apart from your parents and Alana, and the idea of having to work with him again made your stomach roil. The magic that had started to crystallise around you dissipated, but your memories of the dragonborn from your first year lingered all the same, and they were not pleasant ones.

When you’d been partnered with Rune before — when Magister Orrakh had called your name right after Rune’s — your heart had dropped to your boots and he’d flashed you a sharp-toothed grin across the small lecture hall. Sometimes Magister Orrakh taught in that larger hall, when he needed more space to show the full intricacy of a runic circuit and the way magicka flowed around the lines of chalk from rune to rune, but when he taught his theory classes, he preferred to use his small classroom. Unfortunately, that day’s class had been a practical session, and the tiered seating which gave the students at the back a better view of the experiment on the stone altar at the front of the room also gave you a good view of Rune lording it over you from the higher seating.

The dragonborn had been lounging near the back of the tiered seating on the end of the row, with his serrated tail dangling nonchalantly into the gangway that ran between the two halves of the auditorium. He was strikingly handsome, of course, with eyes the colour of back-lit amber flecked with pyrite, and his scales were a warm, honeyed yellow that gleamed almost opalescent in the sunlight streaming in through the clear, arched windows set high in the wall.

His tunic was a deep, pure black, but it had been embroidered with the most minute, fairy-wrought detailing that dizzied the eye if you looked too long at it, and he had whisper-thin, gold chains dripping from ornately engraved bands around his twin, ridged horns. The larger horn sat stacked atop the smaller, nestled close together at the root, and both followed the line of his skull back over his head to end in elegant, polished, gently-rounded points. He was so obnoxiously wealthy that even the delicate, gossamer chains were adorned with tiny flashing diamonds which sent minuscule rainbows dancing around the walls wherever he went.

You'd had nothing to do with him so far in your first year at the academy, having come from entirely different backgrounds.

There was no way the scion of the wealthiest family in the entire kingdom — richer even than the royal family, if rumours were to be believed — would look twice at the adopted child of a fisherman and a rat catcher from the dockland slums of the city. You’d fought for everything you’d ever got out of life, finally earning yourself a scholarship to the prestigious Royal Academy for the Study of Magical Arts. He’d probably got his father to buy his place, since he’d shown no real demonstrative abilities with magic.

Everything had been going so well for you until that fateful final presentation of the year when you’d been paired with Rune.

Read the whole 14.5k word story, with all its angst and feels and 'enemies to lovers' / redemption arc goodness right now on Patreon! Plus last month's story which was a whopping 13k words long!! (as well as all the other Patreon exclusive content, and don't forget there are also free stories up on Patreon as well!

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

👀 a plus-sized love interest in a game? please tell me more

yuuuup you heard me right

in our life 2, one of the romanceable leads is plus-sized and the other lead starts off using he/him pronouns but comes out as genderfluid part way though the story

our life as a game essentially functions as a visual novel that takes place during your early childhood (step 1), preteen/early teen days (step 2), young adult (step 3) and then finally with step 4 adulthood where you and your extremely customizable mc (that you can name, customize the hair color/texture of, change your pronouns throughout the story if you desire, if they're ace or not, the kinds of people they're interested in, etc. etc) as you grow up with your friends, family and of course the leads whom you can either have a purely platonic, romantic or familial relationship with

basically, everyone gets a piece of the pie as the game is incredibly inclusive and the base games are free, you only pay for the dlcs (which are about 3.99/4.99 each) if you want additional content

in our life 1 the primary love interest is cove holden, your shy but 'opens up like a flower when you get to know him childhood friend' whose dad offers you $20 bucks to befriend his son over the summer, will you take the money? or nah? whether or not you do, you do have the choice to tell him or keep it a secret. either way, cove is a lonely kid in love with mermaids and the ocean whose parents are going through a divorce and maybe a special kid born and raised in sunset bird can help him out. (canonically on the autism spectrum as well)

but with some fairly priced dlcs, you can also unlock two more love interests

derek suarez: oldest of 3 brothers and while playful, he means very well. sometimes that well-meaning nature can get him into trouble though. he has a crush on the mc and if given the chance, asks if you're both single as adults if you can get married. you mainly get acquainted with him in step 2 as step 3 he's a bit too busy to be around, but depending on your choices you can stay in touch despite all that or perhaps you'll lose touch over time only to rekindle old feelings in step 4.

and baxter ward: an eccentric but extremely charming tourist that comes to sunset bird in step 3 with a penchant for dressing in black and white all the time. if you choose to get close to him, he asks if it's possible if he can be your suitor for the season (it's possible, through a moment in step 2 to meet baxter earlier than his intended proper introduction though). either way, you do have a chance to take things to a more permanent relationship in step 4 when you reunite once again when you've become a bridemaid for a wedding and oh shit baxter is the wedding planner

ol1 takes place in a fictional town called sunset bird which is essentially a touristy seaside retirement community. you're raised by your two moms along with your sister liz, the both of you being adopted.

also, this game is told through various summers in your life.

our life 2, on the other hand, takes place in a completely different fictional town called golden grove located in oregon (baxter's hometown) and there are 2 base leads you can romance (idk if there will be anymore though):

qiu "autumn" lin: to start, qiu is very charming and that leads to him being very popular in step 1. he's the guy everyone adores to the point each semester there's a 'who gets to sit next to qiu' chart so it's all fair. by step 2 though, they're going through their emo phase and if you aren't close to them by that time (or choose that you stopped being friends between steps 1 and 2), then as far as they're concerned you're just another face in the crowd. by step 3 though, they're back to the charming rizzler they were back in step 1

(step 4 designs/info not out yet for for ol2)

and tamarack baumann: who starts as a bit of a wild child in step 1. she prefers to the forest to the city and can spend all day there. she's blunt and can be loud, but she has your back from day 1. by step 2 though, all that self-assured confidence where she knew herself is gone and tamarack is considerably shyer and more awkward. she can find solace in your friendship though should your promise to be friends forever in step 1 still hold out. by step 3, she's evolved into a quietly confident grandma friend

also contrast to the first game, ol2's story is told throughout various autumns of your life.

you and your mom are a solo duo who have recently moved into golden grove about a week after tamarack (a fellow new kid! it makes it easier for you to connect with her), your mom being a single mom by choice through ivf (but it's strongly hinted that a waiter at the local diner (born intersex, assigned female then transitioned into male) is into her and i am MANIFESTING MY ASS OFF they get together at some point). ol2 also will have a poly feature that comes in the game for those who wish to be committed to both of the leads!

the leads themselves are all pansexual, leading to them being able to date your character regardless of gender and sexual identities and are just extremely wholesome and lovely overall. i always play them whenever i need a mood boost. between the two though, ol2 is not yet done BUT there is a demo of step 1 out right now on itch.io and steam

it's a fun game where all your choices matter and are referred throughout the game as a 'hey remember when yn and cove tried running away from home? that was such a nightmare' or 'hey i met you! a few years back at the summer soiree! wow, if anything had gone slightly different, we might not have even met then' or even 'yo remember when we spent that summer doing beach cleanup??? we should do that again'

even the side characters you grow up with or become acquainted with throughout the steps have journeys from either transitioning and identifying with different pronouns than they were initially introduced with or pursuing specific degrees at school, moving away and either you stayed in contact or hell maybe it's one of those situations where a friend of yours moved away and you never heard from them again etc etc. the ol universe also extends partly into the universe of the xoxo droplets game (made by the same team and also free, unless you wanna pay for the paid version with 3 more romanceable leads and a mc with a hilariously unique personality) with some characters from that game making cameos as childhood encounters in ol. it's all really fun! i really recommend giving the game a try, you'll fall in love with sunset bird and golden grove i guarantee it

you can have a peaceful run with the normal amount of growing pains, or you can go full novela and have lots of drama and flair but rest happily knowing that in ol everything ends up working out. your mc can be shy or bold and out going in one step and then be completely the opposite in the next. maybe you have a very biting attitude or maybe you're extremely gullible. you can change it up with each run, it's extremely replayable

can't stress enough how much i love this game and the characters in it

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I brought up my girlfriend coming out to her dad, knowing he might cut her off and never talking to her again?

TW: abusive parents, specifically about gender transitions

👩‍❤️‍👩 to find later

So I (22 IDK) have been with B (23 MTF) for 3 years and this past summer she came out to me as trans. I have been helping her with her transition as best I can, like finding doctors and sperm banks and people for electrolysis and learning how to do makeup, etc...

She is completely out to my entire family, most of my generation is queer and out and both of my parents best friends are gay and happily married. My parents have basically adopted her.

However, her dad (65) flat out told her "I don't care if you're gay but if you cut your dick off I'm disowning you" when she was like 14 and is a big reason she didn't come out until recently.

The only person who knows in her family is one cousin, who is super supportive, and her mom. Who flip flops between deadnaming her, sending us trans pride stuff, and threatening to tell her dad.

Here's where I could be the asshole. I want to talk to her about coming out, not pressuring her or anything, but just bringing it up. She talks about not wanting to "boy mode" anymore, which she does in front of her dad and stepmom (68) (who might be supportive, she has complemented B on her nails and earrings whenever she sees them).

I think she should consider it because a) she has transitioned socially and now is transitioning physically and her dad has started making comments about the way she looks and it's only going to get worse and b) her mom threatens to tell B's dad if she doesn't do what she wants.

I know it's her choice, but I'm worried that bringing it up will stress her out or be me stepping out of line.

So WIBTA for this?

What are these acronyms?

[radio-star8]

do you have any headcanons about the alternate bens like Mad, Bad, Zarro, etc? I'd love to hear them if you have any 😭😭

SRRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO ANSWER I FORGOT ABOUT TBH PLEASE FORGIVE ME 🙏

Anyways here's a shit ton of headcanons and storylines

Bad Ben:

Story stuff--

His grandpa Max is not gone, just evil

Instead of the plumbers being intergalactic peacekeeping organization they are a anti-alien army set on separating Earth from other alien species.

Grandpa Max instills this idea that aliens are all bad into Ben and Gwen's head from a very young age

Grandpa Max adopted Ben into the plumbers organization way earlier. So he's kind of an alien butt kicking machine.

He's not a celebrity like Ben 23 but everybody knows who he is, He's seen as Earth's protector but not a hero.

He finds out that he's a quarter Anodite around the same time as Gwen (15). Well Gwen embraces her alien origin Ben is pissed and feels betrayed.

He decides to work with a different faction of the plumbers to separate himself from Grandpa Max

This faction works more with infiltrations rather than first line responders (if that makes sense)

Ben would currently be working on how to get rid of Gwen, Kevin, and the rest of the plumber kids including Argit who are seen as illegal aliens and are basically on the run.

Ben hides the fact that Gwen is his cousin and that he is a quarter and  Anodite. Cuz if it ever got out it would ruin his rep.

Personal--

I think he's super self-absorbed he'll take an extra few seconds just to look at himself in the mirror and sigh dramatically

He has a dog named Buster (or something stupid like that)

As mentioned Buster is the only living thing he actually seems to like.

Doesn't name his aliens

His favorite animals are dogs or sharks

He thinks he's funny and that he has really good one liners but he actually kind of sucks at it

He seems like the type of guy to have a TikTok page centered around thirst trap POVs

He's actually not the goalie on his soccer team

I think instead of a smoothie guy he's more of a shake enjoyer

Same goes for chili fries... He probably eaten animal style fries from In-N-Out or something 🙏

He definitely litters

Grinds his teeth while he's sleeping

Would definitely ask for the manager

Physical--

Negative Ben:

Storyline--

His Grandpa Max is alive and well. There's no such thing as the plumbers but there is an task force specifically for alien activity which he is part of.

Aliens are not very common on Earth whatsoever and Earth never becomes a open planet. There's no undertown or anything like that.

Ben got the Omnitrix way younger I'd say around 7-8

At first he wanted to be a hero and use it for good but when immediate success didn't follow he gave up

They did not go on a giant summer road trip, the escape pod crashed in Grandpa Max's backyard or something like that

Grandpa Max is very bitter that he never got the chance to have the Omnitrix and Ben knows this very well.

As for Gwen she's never had an interest in the alien shenanigans and is more focused on normal life. She pretends to be dumber than she actually is secretly practicing magic with her friend Hope (aka negative charmcaster)

I think Gwen would be besties with Michael Morningstar and is dating Kevin who's this beach blonde jock.

Kevin is not a mutant in this timeline. Gwen basically uses him for money and to look cool. (We love toxic gwevin)

Ben has no ambitions in life and rarely ever uses the Omnitrix for anything. Since Earth is a closed off planet he kind of has no need.

His azimuth is dead and vilgax seems to not be in this timeline either

I think Ben is a super toxic person he reminds me of the sad boy flop version of Nicole from class of '09 if that makes sense

I think he has a super toxic relationship with Julie and then goes on to date Kai who in this timeline is a celebrity (she's a famous singer) the second him and julie break up. I think he would probably cheat on Kai with Hope (she's the same age as Gwen and Ben in this timeline)

Since they both got played they would leave his ass and he would be alone forever (possibly some toxic benrook, or bevin action)

In an effort to rehabilitate Rook and Ben both Grandpa Max teams them up to run missions and whatnot.

In this timeline Rook is a con artist, he is  ostracized from his home planet. (His parents hate him lol). And in an effort to not go to jail he agrees with Grandpa Max to team up with Ben.

I believe this Ben also has an Albedo who is super happy-go-lucky and was a big fan of azimuth and really wants to get to know Ben who is just not having it.

Personal--

He is definitely incel

He room is so messy you can't see the floor

He names his aliens really stupid stuff like "nightstalker"

Only uses aliens that he thinks are cool

Favorite animals are cats or wolves

He really likes horror movies (favorite yt channel is probably dead meat)

He spends most of his time drawing anime characters or something like that

Favorite genre of anime is harem animes

he will verbally insult you but if you even dare say that he looks kind of funny he'll start crying

Has like 3,000 followers on Twitter

He's very scared of spiders

He's definitely the type to laugh at you for being uncomfortable around bloody or gory scenes.

"it's fake, besides it's not even that scary... I could probably do way worse"

I think he says edgy stuff like that all the time

Lives on monster energy and coffee

Physical--

This is a lot cuz I really like Negative Ben idk he has a hold on me anyway...

Benzarro:

Storyline--

I think Ben had the spark as well as Gwen so they both were super into magic.

I also like to believe that Earth is more of a magic realm than it is a planet.

I think the virus that turned Ben into a zombie was not in undead thingy but more of a mana absorbing parasite.

Ben is still alive but has been reduced to Benzarro

I think before the apocalypse Ben and Kevin were really close (possibly dating) so when Ben started to get sick this caused Kevin to completely shut down and run away

Ben and Gwen were also way closer in this timeline than they normally are. So it explains why she would devote her life to a cure and assisting Dr. Animo.

Ben is also patient zero most likely because the Omnitrix not only carried dna of multiple aliens but also a parasite.

this also means that Ben got the Omnitrix way later I'd say around 14-15

as for Grandpa Max and the plumbers I don't think that there is really a need for them but I do believe that Grandpa Max was still there before the apocalypse trying to train Ben the best he could.

I feel like Grandpa Max doesn't have a very good connection with his grandkids on like Grandma Verdona who decided to stay on earth and train her grandkids.

Obviously she fleas the planet after the plague starts to take over and Grandpa Max is missing

As for the state of Kevin: he is camped out in some cabin in the forest trying to survive the best he can. He lives with Cooper who is basically his best friend through all of this.

I think Kevin is a full mutant in this (I'm using the rooters retcon for this) him as well as Cooper our immune to the virus since they have no magic spark. (They're basically the cure)

Personal--

He's very popular around school and stuff.

Definitely the golden child of the family

The names of all aliens end with "y/ie"

So like. "Goopie" "Shiny" "Helpie"

Favorite animals are horses

Before he gets infected he'd probably be the type to say that everybody's overreacting and that he doesn't need to wear a mask cuz he's built different... he's got magic and stuff

I think he's zones out a lot

As a zombie he gets lots of weird food cravings

Has tried to eat the other bens

He still remembers everything before he was infected but the parasite has basically made his brain mush

He still remembers Gwen and Kevin very fondly

Contrary to popular belief his favorite color is yellow

Physical--

cw blood

Mad Ben:

Storyline--

I haven't exactly figured out what caused the a post-apocalyptic landscape that mad lives in but I think it would have something to do with a plumber war that caused a possible nuclear (???) fallout

when Ben first finds the Omnitrix he's traveling with Grandpa Max and Gwen. They're kind of aimlessly roaming the desert in search of civilization.

The Omnitrix was in Plummer custody before everything kind of exploded and was just found in an abandoned building by Ben

Grandpa Max is extremely sick and ends up leaving Gwen and Ben so he can go pass on without them having to see.

they later get separated as Gwen is picked up by Verdona.

Leaving then to fend for himself for a little bit. 

Maltruant comes along and leads Ben him to Bellwood (or what's left of it)

him and vilgax then train Ben. I like to think the conditions are tough like Ben still has to hunt for his own food and fend for himself. As well as the fact that he probably gets punished for doing stuff wrong

Side note the vilgax the trains mad Ben is mad vilgax so when he is taken to go fight in the ben war he meets prime vilgax and thinks he's hella cool.

Mad Vilgax is a militant kind of commander who Maltruant specifically tracks down to train Ben and afterwards Vilgax dips

Rook kind of just arrives one day. He is badly injured and Ben kind of takes him in. They're both like 12 or 13 at this point

Ben and Rook develop a friendship until Ben is offered the position to start digging for pieces of maltruant

he starts to yell and get angry at Rook and basically is super toxic.

basically after the two part episode in Omniverse Ben goes a little stir crazy in jail and with the help of Dr Psychobos breaks out.

He runs away to try and find Gwen who at this point is very infamous.

there is an entire cult surrounding her as her followers believe that she has the divine power to save them and bring them to salvation.

this is obviously because she is an anodite. When Verdona took her she led her to the cult and basically made her their new center of worship.

anyways the reason why he's trying to find Gwen is because he knows she's magical and in his stupid little brain that means that she can bring him to Maltruant

he would probably take Kevin hostage (somehow idk that man's a tank) leading gwen to confront him and they would have a big fight

Rook has also been looking for Ben this whole time

Personal--

He has a really bad anger issues that he's had since he was a child

Stiles his hair with motor grease

His favorite animals are hawks

Doesn't name his aliens

He skilled in many different fighting styles so is still versatile even without his omnitrix

The only reason why he has a newer omnitrix is because azimuth is a cruel bitch and gave it to him

Ben sees at azimuth as a god

Ben is the only person in Bellwood to have a mattress and a bed frame

Bro definitely has scurvy

Definitely snores

If he ever tried chili fries he'd probably throw up

His vest used to be a jacket he wore as a kid but he ripped off the sleeves to make it cool

Definitely would wear his dirty shoes around the house.

Most definitely would wear his dirty shoes on the couch

Physical--

Okay that's it sorry it was so long I just really like yeppin if you guys have any more requests about anything feel free to ask. Hopefully I won't forget about it next time 🙏