#I know I’m not easy to help sometimes like I get it!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
When I first joined Tumblr, I had no idea what I was walking into. There’s no manual for navigating this wild, untamed corner of the internet. My first moment here? I was greeted by an image completely naked, no warning, no explanation. It was just there, bold and unapologetic. That’s when I realized: Tumblr is a place where anything can happen.
But for all its chaos, Tumblr has become something far greater than I ever expected. For us Palestinians, this platform isn’t just a space to scroll through memes or vent about life. It’s a lifeline, a place where we’ve taken the raw, messy energy of this site and turned it into a battleground for survival. Here, we tell our stories, raise funds, and fight for our lives.
I’ve seen campaigns soar past their goals, bringing hope to families barely holding on. But I’ve also seen campaigns like mine, ones that fight tooth and nail for every single dollar, every reblog, every addition, and every ounce of hope. My family’s lives depend on this.
It hasn’t been easy. Zionists flood all Palestinian words with hate, twisting truths and spreading lies. They aim to discredit us, to make people doubt us. It’s exhausting. Some nights, I sit with my phone in my hands, wondering if this fight is too big for me. But then something beautiful happens: a donation comes through, a kind message appears, or someone I’ve never met reblogs my story with words that feel like a warm embrace.
And through it all, people are starting to see the truth. The hate doesn’t drown us; it sharpens our voices. Every day, more people step forward to stand with us, to say, “I see you, I hear you, and I’m with you.” It’s those moments that keep me going.
To everyone who has already helped, whether through verification, donating, wrting post , reblogging, or simply sharing a kind word: thank you. You’ve done more for my family than I could ever put into words. But the reality is, we’re not there yet. My family is still waiting for a chance to breathe, to live without fear, to fill their empty stomachs with warm food, and to wrap themselves in clothes thick enough to keep out the bitter cold. They’re hungry, they’re freezing, and I can’t do this alone.
This fight is hard, but it’s not hopeless. Strangers have become friends, and friends have become family. Some of you have shown up in ways I never imagined, treating my family’s survival as if it were your own. That kind of solidarity? It’s powerful.
Tumblr might be chaotic, unpredictable, and sometimes downright bizarre, but it’s also the place where we’ve built something extraordinary: a community that refuses to look away from injustice. With your help, we can take this fight all the way. My family’s lives are within reach, and together, I know we’ll get there.
This campaign isn’t just about me. It supports 26 people, including two orphaned children and an injured family member suffering from hemiplegia after being hit by shrapnel during a bombing. Surgery is desperately needed to replace the infected and failing plates. The needs are urgent, and the future of 26 lives depends on your support.
The video showing the injured family member is shared before in this post: Link.
Please help us ! Donate and reblog this post to spread our story.
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 100 SEK is equivalent to 10 dollars, and 200 SEK equals 20 dollars and so on.
Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link
@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe
@sar-soor @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @thatdiabolicalfeminist @turtletoria
@sawasawako @feluka @appsa @anneemay @commissions4aid-international
@wellwaterhysteria @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bitter @tortiefrancis
@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation
@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @elbiotipo
@el-shab-hussein @heritageposts @communistkenobi @deepspaceboytoy @molsno
@mesetacadre @forevergulag @gazafunds @northgazaupdates2 @freepalestinneee
@komsomolka @muppet-sex @nabulsi @fading-event-608 @buttercuparry
@prierepaiienne @interact-if @unified-multiversal-theory @inkstay
@socialjusticekitten-blog @socialgoodmoms @nowthisnews @socialgoofy @fightforhumanity-rpg-blog
@fightforhumanity-rp @queerandpresentdanger @90-ghost @timogsilangan @punkitt-is-here
@fox-guardian @hiveswap @valtsv @helppeople @ibtisams
@annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @vakarians-babe @plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @tamamita
@apollos-boyfriend @akajustmerry @marnosc @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides
@belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @brutaliakent @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish
@4ft10tvlandfangirl @communistchilchuck @fairuz @sarazucker @fairuzfan
@a-nautilus-as-pixel-art @13eyond13 @stil-lindigo @baby-indie-blog
@marnota @vivisection-gf @brutaliakhoa @the-bastard-king @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness
@neptunerings @malcriada @turian @girlinafairytale @abnormalicacid
@sylvianritual @mothblossoms @autisticmudkip @lesbianmaxevans
@nabulsi27 @palestinegenocide @orblesbian @palebluebutler @pallasisme
@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @morallyrainyday @jame7t @el-shab-hussein
@jonpertwee @flipton @bell-bones @ragingbullmode @envytherose
@rodent178 @tangledinourstrings @kraigerzz-blog @frogbrainedfool @the-ending-of-dramamine
@redsavesquare @uninvited-eon @glenbot @ultimateumbreon33 @pitbolshevik
@disastersim @airsigh @cowboy-queer @lapastelr0sa @sharingresourcesforpalestine
@rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @kropotkindersurprise @cruzwalters @la7ma-mafrooma @rosyish
@bookskittychad @streakoflavender @miraclemaya @devilofthepit @paper-mario-wiki
@gay-yosuke @cometcrystal @nb-marceline @cicadaland @charlott2n
@manletwizard @2blushie @antiauteur @acnologia-is-best-dragon @bitchmael
@penelopiaad @hashiramashonkers @laughtracklesbian @legallymean @b0nkcreat
@crapscicle @uwu-pinata @syntheticspades @momxijinping @longlivepalestina
@saberboi-1 @martinmynster @nako-funky @trans-leek-cookie @vaticinatrix
@moomoobug @narwa @twilightobservationtower @estrellasrojas @knxfesck
@lakeeffectbitch @fatbitchneedsfoodbadly @no-thats-absurd @humanmorph
@sandiwchirlinreal @tcda @misspiggyforvogueitalia @gamb0fficial @vincentspork
@gemstonedraws @frankendykes-monster @mizoguchi @kos-mos @ryoki-ph
@blackwoolncrown @nightwussy @freehologramreview @melancholy-hummingborb
@sister-lucifer @nonbinarymerbabe @raventhecoolestpersonever @ebenrosetaylor @wellwaterhysteria
@inkbomber @collectoroflovelythings @k00ldino @sundung @extrabitterbrain
@names-hard @killaltrock @thatdarngreenpixie-blog @angelsarecomputers @to00fu
@secretgoths @cauli-flawa @faraliniste @adrowninggrip @thesavagesnakeplant
@g-l-a-s-s-h-e-a-r-t-s-s @illuminated-runas @silverstone-gp @saintverse @whalefill
@emathyst9 @trasno-personal @turtles-on-turts @dendrosystem
@readingsquotes @bellybuttonblue2 @bees-fart-too @andiv3r-reblogging @sillyseer
@cloudedcari @tachycardial @evileyeamulet @pompompotato @shamemp3
@jihaad @italofobia @stealthjet @pinnyy @sivavakkiyar
@chronicowboy @bi-worm @ydic74the @amorosebeing @golvio
@dailyquests @punkitt-is-here @opencommunion @postanagramgenerator @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense
@paper-mario-wiki @prisonhannibal @a-shade-of-blue @ramshackledtrickster @punkitt-is-here
#help gaza#palestine#free palastine#free palestine#free gaza#humanity#human rights#humanitarian aid#gaza genocide#gaza#palastina#txt#txt post#txt 2024#text#yemen#lebanon#oman#iran#tumbrl
619 notes
·
View notes
Text
༄“I would set the world on fire for you” | LN4 ⟢
Parings: lando norris x gf!reader.
Summary: after the Brazil GP, lando comes home to the worst week of his year. Also, it was his birthday. So even though the world hates him, you wanna make sure he is loved and he did nothing wrong. And that if you could you would set the world on fire for him.
Word count: +5k.
Warnings: angst and fluff at the same time. Anxiety attack. Overthinking. Selfhatred. Language. And that’s it. I’m not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.
Author’s note: lately I NEED to write things to cope with my feelings so here it is. Hope Vegas is good to all of my boys 💌 don’t forget to like, reflow or comment! Ur support its way loved here. and follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)
MASTERLIST
Your heart was completely shattered. Your heart was racing to get out of your car at the airport. In exactly 20 minutes your boyfriend will be back home after the worst weekend ever imagined. You couldn't assist the Brazilian GP because of your work schedule. You had a few meetings after Mexico gp. And you felt so guilty about it. You knew lando would be more protected if you were there. At least in the intimacy of you, emotionally speaking. Having someone there for him to hug and to comfort him. to calm his mind. To stop the self hatred you knew it was playing right now in his head.
Lando is an overthinker and you get him because you were also one. You knew to which scenarios his mind can travel to and how painful it can be for him to live with himself sometimes. You were fighting your tears reading all of the atrocious things people commented online. You knew that wasn't real life. But you also knew he would see all that and how that would weigh in his heart. They can never let him win. And the worst part was only because it was just him. Other drivers could do or say worse things and everybody would laugh and brush it off. But when it came to Lando, he was a monster, a loser, an arrogant son of a bitch. That hurt deeply. Because in reality lando is the sweetest soul you have ever met. And you knew how vulnerable he could be. Tho you always admired him for that. You always thought that the bravest and strongest people in this world are the ones that admit to need help, the ones that are vulnerable and open about it. In a world this cruel, that was no easy task. But he did time and time again.and he did even knowing how shitty people were gonna be to him. Though, he did it for people he knew that counted on him. Lando always talks about how people sometimes come to him saying he has saved their lives and the impact he had on them. It's something beautiful yet that weighted on his shoulders as well, you thought.
You crossed the airport gates. Anxiety shaking your whole body. You wanted to hug him so bad. To tell him everything was gonna be fine.
You opened the flight information he sent you before his plane took off so you looked for the probable gate he was coming out of when landed. Even though you were anxious you were also relieved that he was home with you.
After a few minutes passed by, a lot of people started coming out of the door you were waiting for. You started gazing at everyone just to find him. After a bunch of people got out, there he was. One of the last ones to go through the door. When you saw him your body almost came undone. You were out of air for a moment while the two of you got closer. When he is finally within reach, you give him the strongest hug you could. He melted on you, hugging you by your neck. Not much time passed when you heard him crying hid in your neck. Your heart that was shattered, broke immediately. You tighter your grip unto him. He started to sob and you couldn't hold your own tears at that point. You knew he had the worst time on that flight, alone with his cruel thoughts torturing him for hours. And there was nothing that you could do to protect him. You couldn't say a word. There was nothing that you could say that it would make things better right now.
Lando was sobbing and shaking. His levels of anxiety reached a high when he saw you standing there looking for him desperately with your eyes. He needed you. But life’s a bitch and you couldn't stay with him throughout the whole American leg. He came undone in your arms. He needed to hug you for so long. He was broken. His mind replying to all the mistakes he made. All of his wrong decisions. All of the shit he said. He was embarrassed, angry and defeated. He was ashamed of himself. Disgusted. Frustrated and scared.
Yu rubbed his back trying to comfort him in the hug and trying to not cry so you could be the strong one for him. He needed you, you knew it. And you wanted to fix all of this in a snap of fingers, but you couldn't.
“It’s okay baby. You are gonna be alright, I promise. I love you. You’re home now ", Yu said, to make him feel at least slightly better. When he heard you he started sobbing even harder. You let him take all the time he needed. While doing so, you tried to see where you were and how you could, if someone was recording and taking a picture. Fortunately you were almost alone. It was the last flight arriving for today. You feel relieved knowing this won't be used against him by the cruel internet trolls.
(...)
The drive home was silent. No music, no speaking. He didn't even look at you the whole ride. He was looking through the window avoiding any contact with society you thought while driving your Audi R8 V10 GT RWD through the illuminated Monaco streets. It was around 9pm. You had cooked for him some home made pasta you knew he adored. You just wanted him to feel better.
When you got home, he took his bags to the room with your help. You left his second suitcase next to his wardrobe and saw him lying on the bed.
“I made your fav homemade pasta. Do you want me to bring it here and eat it in bed?” you offered him with a soft voice. He was looking to the ceiling. He did not answer right away, but after a few moments he did.
“I'm not hungry, but thank you. Maybe i'll eat later” he said with a deep cracky voice and turned himself in the bed showing you his back. You frowned a bit.
He couldn't look at you. He hated that you could see him like this. He was ashamed of himself drawing in self pity and self hatred. He felt he let you down.
“Aln, did you eat something during the flight at least?” you asked worriedly, walking forward to the bed so you could get closer to him. You sat on the table next to his back looking at him. You didn't want to touch him just because you didn't know if he would want you to. You didn't want to be invasive. You stayed in silence for a few minutes. You understood he didn't eat, that he didn't want to either or speak. So you stood up and let him have his alone time closing the door gently behind your back.
You ate alone that night.in silence just as if you could hear him from your kitchen aisle. The past was really good. You turned off your phone after washing the dishes and tidied the kitchen and living room up. You didn't want to see what social media was saying about your lover before bed. It was already enough scrolling and reading so many people wishing lando to die. That was the hardest part of it all. You left your phone charging on the kitchen counter and went to your shared room. When you entered he was already showered getting into the bed again. You half smiled at him even though he couldn't see you. You put on your pajamas in silence and climbed up the bed. He looked at you while you were getting comfortable next to him.
Your eyes met. Any of you said anything. Just looked at each other trying to read each other thought as if that was possible. He licked his dry lips. His eyes turned glassy.
“I messed everything up,” he said almost in a whisper. Your heart is breaking again. You shook your head at him getting closer and bringing him into your chest. You hugged him tightly.
“No you didnt baby. Sometimes people are just mean, you know? They will interpret things as the wish” you said softly rubbing his back and arm and caressing his hair gently. He felt a bit better under your frame. He felt protected but as a little kid when missbehaved so now he tries to find comfort. He didn't want to cry.he was trying hard not to let tears stream down his cheeks. You kissed his forehead and made him look at you. “I know you dont wanna talk about it but i love and i am so deeply and entirely proud of you” you whisper close to his face. You saw him pout and the first tears coming down his face. You hugged him tightly. He hid in your neck and eventually fell asleep. You wanted to set the world on fire for this. You wanted to ruin every single person who says awful things about it. The comments, the media. You wanted to destroy everything and everyone just to protect him. He doesn't deserve this. He is an angel and you can't believe the world could only see the devil in him.
Lando tried to sleep but he couldn't. Everytime he closed his eyes, all of the tragic scenes from the race replayed in his mind. How the car felt, the rain, the radio messages, Oscar's voice, comments from his engineer . everything replayed in his head torturing him the worst way possible. He felt like getting down. He felt alone and miserable. He remembered Oscar words replying in his mind over and over again. “You will eventually make it, mate”. It was a positive message but he replayed it like a fucking nightmare.
What if he never makes it? What if he doesn't have what it takes? What if people are right? What if he is actually a monster and deserves to die? What if he did? Would they like him again or figure him out? Would anyone care about his feelings? Why does it have to be him and not someone else? Why are they all so cruel to him?
He couldn't stop thinking about every single detail about the weekend. He didn't want to celebrate his birthday anymore. He had you there but couldn't look at you. He felt disgusted by himself. He can't control it. He wants to go back into go karts and stop the time when he was actually happy and having fun with his friends. Now that line between friends and enemies is so blurry for him. Max didn't talk to him like before when all of this shit started. He knew Max was really competitive, of course he did, everyone knew it since day 1. But what about their friendship? Lando shit talked, max shit talked. He felt so confused even by his own feelings around this whole shitty situation or championship situation. Whatever you want to call it.
(...)
When you woke up the next morning he was gone. You felt kind of confused for a bit. You heard him talking so you guessed he was speaking on the phone. When you got up from bed you walked out the room to find him. When you got closer to the living room you knew he was talking to Max on facetime because you heard his voice.
“Morning, guys” you said, getting into the kitchen for some water to take your thyroid pills. Lando looked at you half-smile.
“Good morning baby” he said as sweetly as he could. You smiled at him. Before coming back to your room to shower and stuff you went and gave him a good morning kiss making Max almost throw up when he saw you in a funny way. You showed him the middle finger and disappeared so he could talk in private with his mate. You respected his place a lot. And i guess that’s why you understand so much each other.
(...)
The following day things got worse. Lando hasn't eaten any meal you prepared for him, didn't even want to have take out or anything. You found him crying in the kitchen and in the garden by the pool of your house. His anxiety was killing him, you knew. The desperation and guilt were eating him alive and you didn't know what to do rather than try to talk and comfort him.
He was sitting on the sofa in the living room. His sight was fixed on the floor without moving. You got alarmed because you knew what was going on. You got close slowly to not trigger him even more. His face was red, his hands sweaty and shaking. You sat on the floor diagonal from him looking at him. Slowly and gently you grabbed his hands trying to capture his brain's attention and get him out of the fog he was in. You were almost sure he was having an anxiety attack and he started because of your touch. You gently rubbed your fingers in his hands. He was out of breath for a moment and you got scared so you tried to do as your therapist told you in case someone you know goes through this.
“Lan, can you hear me? Try to pay attention to my voice okay? I'm here and I'm with you dull be alright” you said really softly trying to make him look at you. You looked for his eyes with your gaze. “It’s not as terrible as you think, baby, I promise. You aren't all of those things people comment” you used your words carefully. His hands caught your strength and so you reassured him. You saw his pout becoming deeper. You hurt to see him like this. It was so unfair. He doesnt deserve this, god. And he broke. He broke down again. His tears streamed down his face. Sobbing in so much pain. You sat next to him to hug him tightly once more. But now you knew it was worse. He was shaking under your arms.you let him go through this. So he can let go of all of this shit inside him. “I promise lando, you aren't all of those things. People are just mean and cruel. You are a good baby and so talented. Gifted. You have it in you I promise, I can see it” you tried to comfort him with your words as well, trying to distract your mind from the tragic thought he was dealing with by himself. A few tears fell down your face. It was a hard time. And you were trying to be strong for him.
“I'm so stupid I'm sorry” he sobbed and you shook your head.
“No, Lando, you aren't. I promise okay? Believe me.i know you and you aren't. And this will pass. All the people that know you for real, we love you and we are so proud of you. You had an amazing year. You are fucking fighting a three time world champion, even sooner than he did with lewis back in 2021. That’s huge my love. Your dream is near, I just know it. Because I know you, and you’ll make it, baby. You didn't let anyone down. You're getting stronger so when you finally make it, all of these moments will make it taste so much better and sweeter” you explained while rubbing his back. Your words made an effect on him. Heslowly calming down. He didn't want to let you go. He wanted to just stay there in your arms. Where he felt safe and sound. Noone could hurt him there. That was what made him fall for you. You saw him. You knew him. And you care about him. He was finally important for someone for being lando, and not lando norris formula one driver. His past lovers left him feeling confused whether they loved him for him or their idea of him. You came outta nowhere and blew him away. You were brutally honest, no filter yet so gentle and caring with your words. He thought his perfect girl didn't exist but then there was you, listening to him for hours if he needed to. Giving him the best advice and clearing his perspective. Always cheering him up. Cracking jokes so he could distract and feel relaxed. Heknew he was in love with you the moment you offered to give him a ride because he was drunk as well at a new years party. It was normal but the fact that a stranger could do that for him blew his mind. He never admitted afraid people would think it’s weird. But it is what it is. Your smile ended him right there and when you started cracking jokes he didn't want to live in that damn car for the rest of his life. So here you are 4 years later,and you still be the greatest person in the world and the one who knew him the most. He felt your lips on his forehead. For a moment he thought about leaving racing. What if his life was better without it in it? He could go back to Bristol and be with his friends. With you. Maybe start a family and have a normal job so you could spend each day together. He started crying again at that thought. He loved racing but this year was the hardest yet amazing one.
He finally calmed down after a few minutes in silence. He looked at you with puppy eyes. You caressed his face gently brushing a few tears falling down still.
“Would you be there with me? Could you?” he asked, making you a bit confused. And he noticed. “To the races. I need you there. Please. To every race and when I become a champion,would you be there with me? You could feel he's scared. You half smiled at him melting as his comment.
“Of course I'll be there, baby. I’ll always be there for and with you. If I could , I would set the whole world on fire just for you. Never doubt it, okay?” he nodded and you pulled him closer to give him so many little kisses around his whole face making him gigle a little.
“I love you, y/n” he said looking at you fondly.
“I love you, lando. Everything’s gonna be alright” you said, assuring him and gave a peck on his lips. “Go have a shower and dress cute im gonna take you out on a date before your birthday” you said more lighful to cheer him up and his face lit up.
“Really?” you noddedat him and send him to shower agin funny. Before going with him so yhou both looked facy, you needed to say something to the world. You couldnt stay crossed arms and do nothing about it.
── .✦
yourusername uploaded a story
view story replies
maxfewtrell: I CHOKED
norrisfan: omg thank u queen for this
user45: ur as dumb as he is. you cant defend him. he sucks and thats it darling. don lie to yourself.
── .✦
You turned off your phone once again. You were already so fed up with it all. Let them talk. You were sure they would choke with their own shit eventually.
but continued with the day. Lando was still a little off but he was looking better so maybe he is actually feeling better. You took out to dinner at a restaurant he always dreamed of going to. He was so happy to be there. The food was delicious. It was near the beach though it is colder here so we looked at it through the glass window. You gossip and talk about anything and everything as if everything was alright. And it was a fact it was. Because this is real life. Not social media. A few people stopped you while eating to ask for pictures and Lando said yes every time you even became a photoshoot photographer. Nice people telling him nice things was what he needed right now. Plus, you would never be pissed off by his fans. You were actually grateful for them. Of course, some can be disrespectful but you knew the real one was it. You really embraced Lando's life even though it’s nothing like the life you’d dreamed of to have one day. But he is the boy of your dreams so why would it be a problem.
November, 13th
When the clock hit midnight, the restaurant made a cake for him so we all sang him happy birthday. You chose his favorite type of cake. He giggled all nervous and shy. His cheeks red while his eyes showed a little sparkle while watching the candles. He blew them. You recorded the whole thing and took so many pictures. He thanked the staff and staff of the restaurant and they let you enjoy the cake in comfort. Your heart was full to see him a little back again.
After The restaurant kicked you out because they needed to close, you decided to do a road trip through the mountains of monaco. You always enjoy a good ride with good music and good company. And you also had sex in the car. You kind of guessed he needed to take his frustrations out somehow because you had the rough sex you really enjoyed. He joked it was his best birthday present making you laugh. He was joking again.
“Thank you” he said while gently rubbing your naked chest. You were seated on him. You smiled and leaned for a soft kiss on his lips. You really loved him. And all you wanted for him was happiness and well being. And you would do anything to make sure he is okay.
You came back home and had another round of sex. Enjoying yourselves in intimacy. Lando finally fell asleep after a terrible few days, in the calm of your body. His face on your bare chest. You clothed him and fell asleep relieved.
── .✦
yourusername made a post
liked by maxfetrell, f1, maclaren, francolapinto, and others.
yourusername: What can I say about you? There's no words that can describe your greatness. Or my feelings for you. I'm so grateful you were born on November 13th. 25 years ago my best friend and the love of my life was brought to this world. And sometimes what unfair is that, right? A world that is so cruel to you. A world that doesn't deserve your greatness and kindness nor your attention. You are the greatest son, brother, uncle, friend and lover. Anyone who says otherwise doesn't actually know you. We are all so lucky that you choose us to spend your time on this world with. Thank you for being who you care. For caring about the people you love and making sure we are alright and happy. Thank you for being the light that you are for so many lives. Thank you for being vulnerable. I admire you so much, lan. You are the strongest and bravest human I know. so honest and open. Anyone who says otherwise, actually, doesn't know you. I know this is not the best birthday of your life, but I promise you I'll try to make it better. Thank you for being who you are to me. I promise I see you and I care. You're the love of my life. And I'm so lucky you love me over any other human out there. So happy birthday to the prettiest and most genuine, real, fun, kind, warm person I have the chance to call mine everyday. Hope you have the best day you can have right now. That’s the least you deserve. I love you forever bestie. Don’t ever change.
tagged: landonorris
comments on this post have been disabled.
── .✦
── .✦
So you had a master plan for Lando's birthday. You went to the Hilton hotel for some coffee with Max and Lando of course. We lied and said pietra couldn't make it because she had a meeting and Lando believed. Truth was, you have contacted all of his friends and arregened flights so everyone could make it to Monaco on time. Pietra was the one in your house. You left her a spare key yesterday evening after coffee with alex. You gave her the directions and the idea of what you wanted while you and Max distracted Lando until 7pm, she decorated the house and received all of his friends. Lando had no clue of what was going on but he was so happy it was the second cake you brought to him. You recorded the moment and seeing him smile made your heart melt.
── .✦
yourusername uploaded a story
view story replies
landonorris: I love you greatest girlfriend there to exist. Thank u for everything and specially for making this day so much better. Ur an Angel ❤️🩹
⤷ yourusername: I love u more Angel ❤️🩹 the least you deserve is to be loved and happy.
User33: 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Landostan: THANK U FOR EXISTING AND TAKING SUCH CARE OF HIM UR A QUEEN I LOVE U WE LOVE U
carlossainz55: ur the best 🫶🏻
⤷ yourusername: te extraño hermano we need to double date with Rebecca again asap!
── .✦
When 7pm came around we all “decided” to go to your house and eat pizza for dinner. Lando even said to me that they could do a stream and have fun for a bit. You agreed and all knowing that wasn't gonna happen. The ride home was so much fun. You spent the 20 minute ride screaming a one direction song from the top of your lungs. You sang Lando ‘through the dark’ And he sang ‘You and i’.it was lovely, Max almost threw up when you kissed. Luckily he was driving so he hadn't watched much of your pda.
You got out of the car trying to play it cool though you were so nervous. You saw Max texting Pietra that you were close.the lights were off. And silent. Your nervousness took over you when you tried to open the door but let the keys fall nervously. Thankfully Max and Lando were discussing which type of pizza they would order. Finally you opened the door, lando behind you and so you turned on the lights.
Everyone jumped from everywhere saying happy birthday in unison. Yoursmile was so big but when you saw lando his smile was even bigger.
“Surprise!” you said and lando was still processing it. But when his friend started hugging him he started crying out of joy. He thought his friends weren't coming this year because of their busy schedule.but that was a lie you made them tell so lando wouldn suspect anything. Fortunately, they all kept the secret safe. Lando was so happy.
You all spent the night playing poker, drinking gin and tonics and surrounded by laughter and love. In the moment, around everybody, you felt lucky to be there. Especially to be in landos life. Everyone was so sweet and good just like him. He deserves the world.
Everyone went home around 2 am. You were exhausted and tipsy at the end of the night. So you put your pajamas on and sled straight on the bed. Lando wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Thank you for everything. It was a great birthday. Thank u for always taking care of me always.you make me the happiest” he said under a whisper looking at you. He looked so gorgeous with that little smile and tired eyes. You stroked his cheek gently, smiling.
“You deserve to be happy darling. You are unstoppable. Better days at work will come,I know.but im grateful that you have so much love surrounding you. I love you” he smiled widely listening to you and leaned to kiss you with so much feelings and passion. You were the greatest thing that ever happened to him and also the greatest decision he has ever made when he asked you out.
── .✦
f1gossipofficial made a post
liked by user3423, user96849, user334, yourbff and others.
f1gossipofficial: here it is @/yourusername at the McLaren garage ready for fp1 cheering for his 4 year boyfriend @/landonorris! Lando was asked about the whole drama around the Brazil gp and his birthday and her statement and he said ‘I’m lucky to have her. I would set the world on fire for her. So yeah. We are the same that is why we work so well. It was a great birthday though. She brought my whole group of friend to Monaco for a poker night so yeah’ also he said that if it wasn’t for her he would’ve collapsed on his overthinking but thankfully she was there. We love a power couple on the grid!! What do we think about all of this? #LasVegasGP2024
view more comments
User1873: they are both the same shit tbh
User23: I LOVE THEM GREATEST COUPLE ON THE GRID
User29873: I don’t like lando but she cute supporting him like that. I saw she gave a kiss to him before getting into the car. They seem in love!
⤷ Usrr988: I KNOW TIGHT I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY I CAUGHT THAT KISS IN THE OFFICIAL TRANSMISSION
Yourbff: she is the greatest person you would know!! Let’s go lan!!!
User564: Max will win the dwc and NOTHING would change that or move me so
User90: omg she is so pretty
y/nstan: how lucky lando is to have her. She is always the sweetest to all of his fans. And also funny. Such a queen!
User897: where are the pictures of them arriving together????????! I NEED THEM
⤷ user45: so iconic need to marry asap
── .✦
It was the day. The day you were back to media duties. Back to being a target for social media. Back supporting your boyfriend no matter what. You even went on media day to be there for him if he needed it. You chatted with everyone around to entertain yourself while he was doing interviews.
Oscar helped a lot and the whole McLaren team to make Lando feel safe and actually enjoy the weekend. You Were grateful for it. At least they decided not to be dicks in front of his face.
Fp1 was about to start and you were proudly there in the garage to cheer on him. You were also anxious because you felt things almost like him and this competition is rather never racking. You kissed him gently but shortly. A good luck kiss before getting into the car. He smiled widely.
“Go be the best you can be. You’re great” you told him sweetly.
“I'll try my best to impress you,” he replied, letting go of your hand.
“You already do everyday babe” you said smiling making him grin before walking into the car to start the first session of the weekend.
You watched from there how fp1 unfolded hoping this would be a great weekend.
── .✦ FIN
Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!
#lando x reader#lando#lando x y/n#lando x you#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#ln4 x reader#ln4#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1
506 notes
·
View notes
Text
As someone who gave my “parents” a “second chance” and moved back in with them again & again, don’t do it, if you can. I only did it because it was a quick decision, I had no real support system. I was on the verge of tears, panic attacks, and I couldn’t find shelter or anywhere else that would take me in in a short amount of time. But there’s plenty of reasons of why this is so hard to permanently cut ties in the first place, and I’m not going to get into all that..but if you’ve never had to deal with these types of parents you would never understand, and if you’re not gonna help the person get out of the situation safely & actually support them fully, and not demonize them, then you have no say, no right to judge, and should be minding your business. Yes, I’ve realized we all have that choice to make, and sometimes you may need to trust strangers, but that’s not easy either, let’s all try to give each other grace no matter what peoples situation is. The last I want to feel is a burden, so it was easier to decline offers, (most are working w/ your family / parents so you gotta be careful) ofc I didn’t/don’t want to rely on abusive/toxic people anymore. And if you’ve had parents like mine, you would know that you can’t even talk to them about any problem or about moving out without them trying to sabotage it or getting angry, pretending to help, only to go back to putting your life in danger again. Then if you’ve ever gone no contact or tried to cut them off, they will get revenge on you, in my case they thought it was justified. 🤷🏻♀️ So yes it’s really that easy and your life will be a walk in the park after, anything but that..This sh*t is hell and I pray we all find a way to cope and move forward.
38K notes
·
View notes
Text
i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1974 - ...but it was never meant to be
chapter summary: You and Logan have been living in the Canadian Rockies for almost 6 months, enjoying the peace and solitude that comes with it.
word count: 8.9k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: this is just fluff, at least until the end... but we're finally hitting the movies! and sorry for it being a bit shorter than the others, there are some ideas i'm saving for a future chapter :))
(p.s. the first sentence about the hotel in nyc is going to be very important to remember for a future chapter...)
warnings/tags: fluff, origins!logan, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, (beginning of) x-men origins, character death
series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7
Leaving was easy once you got past the one incident. You and Logan had stopped that day at a hotel a bit out of New York City only to be found by your father’s men.
But what happened was almost like magic. Logan, your Logan, took them all out with claws. At first you were bewildered, shocked at what you just saw. But now, after 6 months of living in the Canadian Rockies, it was normal.
Normal.
Mornings would start with the soft light streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over your shared space as Logan brewed coffee and you stretched, enjoying the easy comfort of it all.
Logan had found work quickly enough as a lumberjack, something that kept him outside and busy, and it suited him. Meanwhile, you’d stumbled upon a small animal shelter in the nearby town. You’d started going once or twice a week, helping out with the dogs and occasionally picking up shifts to keep yourself busy and connected to some semblance of normal life.
The routines you fell into together were quiet, steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt grounded. Though you missed New York sometimes, especially the volunteer work at the retirement home, the silence of the woods and the small town was a peaceful change.
Not only were things peaceful, but Logan had started opening up to you in the quiet of your cabin, usually in the early morning or after one of his nightmares. It started with little things—details about his mutation, his healing ability. Then, as the days blurred into weeks, he told you about his age and the wars he’d fought in, his voice quiet, words weighed down with old memories.
One chilly morning, you found him staring out the window, his gaze distant as he sipped his coffee. You moved up beside him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you alright?”
He looked down at you, a flicker of a smile breaking through the shadows. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but calm.
“Anything you want to talk about?” you offered, watching his face closely.
Logan considered this for a moment, then took a long breath. “I think… just realizin’ how long it’s been since I had somethin’ like this,” he finally admitted, a glint of honesty in his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a road, darlin’.”
You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm. “I don’t need to know everything, Logan. I’m just glad you’re here now.”
He gave a short nod, letting his hand rest over yours, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wrapped around yours, holding them a moment longer than necessary.
---
Life in the cabin wasn’t extravagant, but there was a certain charm in the simplicity. Nights spent by the fire, mornings with the scent of pine and fresh coffee, and the comforting weight of Logan’s arm draped over you as you both drifted into sleep. But there were also the little bumps—like the time you tried making him dinner.
It had been a stew recipe, something you thought would be foolproof. You’d stirred, added spices, tasted… but when you served it, the look on Logan’s face was priceless.
He took a spoonful, eyebrows lifting as he held back a chuckle. “This a new recipe?”
“Okay, I get it—it’s not great,” you sighed, laughing a little as you took a bite yourself. “Alright, yeah, maybe it’s terrible.”
Logan chuckled, setting his spoon down. “It’s not so bad. I mean… it’s got heart.”
You nudged him, rolling your eyes. “Heart doesn’t mean it’s edible, Logan.”
“Maybe not,” he smirked, “but I’ll still eat it.” He winked, lifting another spoonful as he pretended to struggle through the bowl, making you burst into laughter.
---
Late one night, Logan awoke from one of his nightmares. You knew, even before he’d fully come to, just by the way he stiffened beside you. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, and you reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder.
“Do you want to talk about it?” you whispered.
He looked down at you, the muscles in his jaw tight. But after a moment, he nodded. “It was a long time ago. Just old ghosts.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “There’s been a lot of violence. Stuff… I don’t ever want you to have to see.”
“I know you’ve seen a lot,” you murmured, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “But you don’t have to go through it alone, Logan. Not anymore.”
Logan’s hand covered yours, and he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but searching. “You’ve been more than I deserve, Y/N,” he said quietly.
Your heart twisted, and you reached up to cup his face. “Logan, I don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. All that matters is who you are now.”
He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky man,” he whispered, his voice low.
He held you close that night, your presence calming the echoes of a past that seemed finally willing to rest, if only for a while.
---
One day you were trying to make something simple, roast chicken and potatoes before Logan got back from work. You diligently checked the oven, making sure that nothing was burning, until Logan came home, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood up from the oven.
Logan’s hands settled warmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked over at the oven. The familiar, steady weight of him grounded you, even as you felt your heart give a quick little skip at the simple, domestic gesture.
“Smells good in here,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he took in the scent of roasting chicken and herbs. “Didn’t know you were this fancy in the kitchen.”
You let out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Fancy might be a stretch. I’m just hoping it doesn’t come out dry.”
His arms tightened just a bit, pulling you closer. “Even if it did, I’d still eat it,” he said, a hint of that playful glint in his voice. “Means a lot, havin’ you here. Feels like… home.”
A warmth rose in your chest, one that went beyond the physical, and you leaned back into him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I could get used to this too.” You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Long days, quiet dinners, just us.”
“Us,” he echoed, his voice softer, thoughtful. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something unspoken yet weighty. His thumb brushed small, slow circles along your hip, as if anchoring himself in the moment, and he gave you a slight smile that didn’t quite mask the intensity behind it.
Logan was quiet for a moment, and you felt a shift in his posture, almost like he wanted to say something but was holding back. He looked at you in that way he sometimes did—like he was seeing more than just you standing there in your small, cozy kitchen. Maybe he was seeing all the days stretching ahead, those simple moments you’d have together, and the weight of that left him speechless.
“Logan?” you asked, brushing a hand along his arm.
He blinked, then smiled, the intensity in his gaze easing back into something gentler. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”
You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”
The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, with just the faint hum of the oven and the quiet, steady beat of Logan’s heart against your back. In the quiet of your little life together, things felt simple, natural. Here, there were no expectations, no obligations—just the two of you, building something real out of those little, ordinary moments.
But later that night, as you drifted off beside him, Logan stayed awake, lost in thought. His hand brushed over the small velvet box in his drawer, the ring that had waited all this time, the one that had been meant for you once before. He ran his thumb along the edge, thinking about when the right time might be—or if he’d even have the chance. For now, though, he’d savor each day, each quiet moment, holding on as tightly as he could.
---
You lay nestled between Logan’s legs on the couch, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you read, while he watched TV, idly sipping his beer. His free hand drifted up and down your arm absentmindedly, and you could feel the faint rumble of his quiet breaths beneath you. There was a calm in the cabin tonight—a peace you’d found only since being with him.
“What’s got you so hooked?” he asked, glancing down at your book with a smirk. “Looks like you’re deep in it.”
You tilted the book so he could see the cover, Jaws. “It’s a book about a shark.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, “a shark, huh?”
You turned back to the book, keeping a small smile hidden. “Kind of. It’s a little deeper than just a shark, though.”
“Deeper than a shark, huh?” Logan smirked, shifting slightly to glance down at you, looking mildly amused. “Didn’t think a fish story could be that interesting.”
“It’s not just any fish, Logan,” you said, letting your hand rest on his as you settled back into his warmth. “This shark’s on a whole other level—a menace, basically unstoppable. And there’s all this tension between the people in the town, like who’s responsible, what to do, whether they even believe it’s happening.”
He gave a soft grunt of understanding, taking a sip of his beer. “Guess I can see why you’re hooked. Townsfolk fighting over a monster they can’t get rid of… kinda familiar.”
You tilted your head to look up at him, a glint of curiosity in your eyes. “You got experience with monsters, Logan?”
“More than you’d believe, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes holding that far-off look he sometimes got when his mind slipped somewhere else, somewhere harder. But his grip on you stayed gentle, grounding him here.
There was a moment’s quiet, then he smirked, leaning down closer. “But I could take out your shark, no question.”
“Oh, really?” you teased, closing the book and giving him a look of mock skepticism. “A great white shark, Logan. One that can bite clean through a boat. I think even you’d have some trouble with that one.”
He snorted, giving you an exaggerated look of disbelief. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’d have it done in five minutes.”
You laughed, poking his chest. “I’d like to see that. You, in the water, with a shark. You’d probably scare it off.”
“Probably,” he chuckled, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something genuine. “But I’d do it for you.”
His words caught you off guard, softening the teasing banter into something warmer, something real. You looked up at him, and the light in his eyes held a familiar steadiness, a promise you hadn’t expected. You felt a smile creeping up, one that made your heart beat a little faster.
“That’s sweet of you, Logan. But don’t go risking your life over a shark.”
He shrugged, giving a small grin. “Risking my life’s kinda my thing.”
With a smirk, you shifted to put your arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to fight any sharks. I just need you here, safe, preferably not trying to tackle any more sea monsters.”
Logan’s hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Don’t worry, darlin’. For you, I’d stay outta trouble… or at least, try.”
Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, a promise in every kiss, every touch.
When you pulled back, he let out a small sigh, looking at you with a softness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.
“Now,” you murmured, your voice quiet as you tried to keep the mood light, “how about you let me finish reading this book before you start making any plans to fight sharks?”
“Fine,” he chuckled, leaning back into the couch, his arms still loosely around you. “But I’m just sayin’, the offer stands.”
You rolled your eyes, shifting back to lean against his chest, your book in hand. But even as you returned to the words on the page, the comfortable silence between you filled every corner of the cabin, your heart warmed by the man beside you.
---
When Logan came home and removed his jacket, the sound of music drifted to his ears, mingling with the low hum of a vacuum. The cabin was warm, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside, the smell of pine and faint wood smoke greeting him like an old friend. The soft glow of late afternoon sun streaked through the windows, and as he stepped further in, he caught sight of you.
You were standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on your frame, the hem brushing just below the tops of your thighs. The vacuum roared in your hand as you cleaned, entirely oblivious to his arrival.
Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you. Something about this—a simple domestic scene—made his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that he couldn’t quite name.
“Y’know, you’re not supposed to wear clothes that fit me better than they fit you,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the vacuum’s roar.
Startled, you turned it off with a quick flick of the switch and looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. “Logan! You scared me,” you said.
“Didn’t mean to,” he replied, his tone warm as he pushed off the frame and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, and as he got closer, his eyes drank you in, lingering on the way the flannel gaped slightly at the neck, exposing the soft line of your collarbone. “Got a habit of sneakin’ up, I guess.”
You laughed softly, setting the vacuum aside. “If you were a little less loud, I’d think you were some kind of predator.”
“Oh, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading as he reached for you, hands settling at your waist and pulling you close, “if I wanted to catch you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Your breath hitched as his words settled between you, his voice a low rumble that always managed to make your knees feel just a little weaker. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath your palms. “Good thing I’m not running then,” you murmured, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.
He leaned down, his nose brushing yours. “Good thing,” he echoed, before his lips claimed yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, pulling you tighter against him. The flannel you wore rose slightly under his touch, and you gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers found bare skin.
“Logan,” you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft plea.
“Yeah?” he rasped, his mouth trailing down your jawline, his scruff brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine.
“Think you should let me finish cleaning,” you teased, though your hands had already slid up to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the dark strands at the base of his skull.
He huffed a laugh, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your throat. “Nah, think I got a better idea.”
With a swift move, he bent and swept you off your feet, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. You let out a startled laugh, clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch. “Logan, the vacuum—”
“Vacuum’ll be there later,” he cut in, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. “Right now, you’re the only thing I’m worried about.”
He set you down gently on the cushions, his large frame hovering over you as he knelt on the floor, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the flannel higher. The intensity in his gaze sent a flush rising to your cheeks, your heart pounding in anticipation.
“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, his voice thick, raw. His hands paused, fingers curling just under the hem of the shirt. “Mind if I show you how much?”
You nodded, breathless, and he smiled—a rare, almost boyish expression that quickly dissolved into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for doubt about where his mind was. His hands roamed freely now, skimming along the curve of your thighs, pushing the flannel higher and higher, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the room.
“Goddamn,” Logan muttered against your lips, his voice thick, raw. His hands splayed across your thighs, gripping them as though grounding himself, his thumbs brushing along the tender skin there. “You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.”
A shiver ran through you, anticipation building as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed caresses. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved further down, sinking to his knees before you, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart.
"Logan..." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, already trembling.
“Shh,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The intensity there made your breath hitch. “Let me take care of you.”
He kissed his way up your inner thigh, taking his time, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing. Your heart pounded as you felt his warm breath against your skin, so close to where you wanted him, needed him.
When his lips finally brushed against you, his tongue darting out to taste, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that spilled from your lips. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you with an expertise that made your head spin.
“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching his hair, your hips arching into him. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you trembling, your thighs pressing around his head.
Logan growled against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound of it—rough, primal—only spurred you on. He was relentless, his lips and tongue working you with a fervor that left no doubt about how much he enjoyed this, enjoyed you.
“Logan, I—” Your words dissolved into a whimper, your body tensing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His name was a mantra on your lips, each syllable punctuated by gasps and moans as he pulled you apart and put you back together with every stroke of his tongue.
When you finally shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave, he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, his hands holding you steady as you trembled, as your body arched and writhed against him. Only when you were completely spent, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.
“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough, gravelly, as he rose to his feet, his hands still resting on your thighs. “I could do that all night.”
You laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the couch, your body still tingling, your cheeks flushed. “You’re insatiable.”
“Says the woman who was just beggin’ me for more,” Logan teased, his voice a low rumble as his lips brushed against yours. His kiss was slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of him mixed with the remnants of your own release sent a thrill racing through you, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, keeping him close.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You sure you’re not tryin’ to kill me, darlin’? Feels like every time I get my hands on you, I lose a few more pieces of myself.”
Your lips curved into a soft smile, your fingers idly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”
Logan huffed a laugh, the sound deep and almost self-deprecating. His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, his gaze locked on yours. “For you, maybe not. For me? I’m startin’ to think I wouldn’t mind it.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, a quiet confession that made your chest tighten. You reached up, brushing your thumb along the rough edge of his jaw. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You’re too important, Logan. To me.”
His expression softened, the hard edges of his usual demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”
“Maybe you should show me,” you said, your voice carrying a teasing lilt, though the heat in your eyes betrayed how serious you were.
Logan’s lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous grin. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”
He let out a low growl, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “You’re damn right I don’t.”
In one fluid motion, Logan had you lifted, his hands firm as he repositioned you to straddle his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you settled against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, the solidness of him grounding you in a way that felt almost necessary.
“See? Told ya I had better plans than cleanin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.
You tilted your head, giving him more access, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I think I’m starting to agree.”
Logan’s hands roamed over you, calloused fingers exploring the soft curves of your body with reverence. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements. It was deliberate, almost tender, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.
His lips trailed a path along your neck, his scruff scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he admitted, his voice low, almost like a growl.
“I could say the same about you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt.
Logan’s hands gripped the hem of the flannel you wore, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he slowly lifted it. He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.
You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in the sight of your bare skin bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but the look in his eyes kept any hint of self-consciousness at bay. “You’re staring,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of his gaze.
“Can’t help it,” he said simply, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of lookin’ at you.”
The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, your hands threading through his hair as you pressed yourself against him.
Logan’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he shifted beneath you, the hard press of him against your core drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He swallowed the sound with a groan, his grip tightening as he began to rock you against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.
“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.
“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”
His hands moved to your waist, guiding your movements as he kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. Each roll of your hips against him was maddeningly slow, the steady build of tension making you ache for more.
“Logan, please,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you tried to quicken the pace.
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “Patience, Y/N. I’m not in a rush.”
You huffed in frustration, though the warmth in his gaze softened the sharp edges of your need. “You’re cruel,” you muttered, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.
“Cruel, huh?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he shifted beneath you. “Pretty sure you’ll be thankin’ me when I’m done with you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound dissolving into a soft moan as he bucked his hips against you, the friction sending another wave of heat coursing through you.
“Logan,” you gasped, your voice a mix of exasperation and longing.
He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yeah, darlin’? What do you need?”
“You,” you said simply, the single word carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you.
Logan’s expression softened, his teasing demeanor shifting as something deeper flickered in his gaze. “You’ve got me,” he said, his voice steady, his hands firm on your hips as though anchoring you to him.
Your heart stuttered at his words, the raw sincerity of them making your chest feel impossibly tight. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his as your fingers slid down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under your touch. “I’m glad,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss unhurried and deliberate, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. The heat of him seeped into your skin, grounding you as you moved against him. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that made you ache for more.
“Darlin’,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and strained, “you’re makin’ it real hard to take this slow.”
“Maybe I don’t want slow,” you countered, your tone teasing, though the way your breath hitched betrayed your own urgency.
Logan chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you as his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. “Trust me, you do,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your thighs tighten around him. “I want to feel every second of this.”
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in his hair as he took his time exploring every inch of you. Logan’s hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he shifted on the couch, settling back further into the cushions.
The new angle pressed you more firmly against him, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed with another kiss. “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders.
“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.
“More than okay,” you replied, your voice trembling as you shifted your hips, testing the pressure between you.
Logan growled low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as his hands slid up your back. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his words heavy with reverence.
You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he was looking at you, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. “Off,” you said simply, your voice breathless but firm.
He smirked, obliging without hesitation as he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Your eyes raked over him, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the scars that marred his otherwise flawless skin.
“Like what you see?” he teased, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.
“Always,” you replied, your hands trailing over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of old wounds. “You’re beautiful, Logan.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding back to your waist. “Don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”
“Well, they should have,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his collarbone.
Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you as you moved against him, the steady grind of your bodies making your head spin. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, though the words were laced with affection.
“Not likely,” you quipped, a soft laugh escaping you.
He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted again, one hand moving to undo the button of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you realized what was coming next, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach.
“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze searching yours.
“Logan,” you said, your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”
He nodded once, his hands steady as he slid his jeans down just enough, freeing himself. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as you took him in, your cheeks flushing at the sight.
“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he guided you closer, his hands firm on your hips.
You moved slowly, adjusting yourself over him, the heat of him against you making you tremble. Logan’s hands were steady, his thumbs brushing soothing circles on your skin as he guided you.
When you finally sank down onto him, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and fullness that made you moan softly. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his hands gripped your hips tightly.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You feel... Jesus, darlin’, you’re perfect.”
You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he felt, the way he filled you completely. You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you began to move.
Logan’s hands guided your movements, his grip firm but not controlling as he let you set the pace. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming as you rocked against him, your bodies moving in perfect sync.
The steady rhythm built slowly, the intensity growing with each roll of your hips. Logan’s hands roamed over you, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, grounding you in the moment.
“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best way.
“I’ve got you,” he said, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upward, matching your movements.
The new angle sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you clung to him. “Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling.
“Right here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the strain in it.
The intensity between you grew, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something more urgent as your bodies moved together. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch pushed you closer to the edge, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.
When you finally shattered, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Logan held you through it, his hands steady on your hips as your body trembled, his name falling from your lips in a breathless mantra.
He followed moments later, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening as he found his release.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other, the world outside forgotten.
“You okay?” Logan asked finally, his voice soft, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.
“More than okay,” you replied, your voice muffled against his neck.
He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”
“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back to look at him.
Logan’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup your face. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.
“And you’re mine,” you replied, your tone steady despite the warmth spreading through your chest.
“Damn right I am,” he said, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish grin.
The two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, the rest of the world fading away. For now, there was only this—only him.
---
You turned off the water that was filling the bathtub and dipped your hand in to test the temperature of the water. The water was just right—hot, with steam gently rolling off the surface. You stood, wiping your hands on the towel, just as you heard the front door creak open and close with a soft click. Logan’s footsteps padded quietly through the cabin, but you could still feel that familiar presence, that comforting weight of him even when he wasn’t yet in sight.
You barely had time to turn around before he appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of you standing by the tub. “Now this is a surprise,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
“Thought you’d like a soak after all that work you did today,” you replied, a little smile tugging at your mouth. You stepped aside, gesturing toward the water. “Go on, it’s ready.”
Logan’s gaze softened, though his smirk never quite faded. “So you’re spoilin’ me now, huh?”
“Maybe a little,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Can’t have you overdoing it. You might be practically indestructible, but a hot bath never hurt anyone.”
He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. “Got a point there,” he admitted, tossing it onto the nearby chair. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over the familiar planes of his chest, scars crisscrossing his skin like a map of all the years he’d survived. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t mind—just kept undressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Logan stepped into the tub, easing himself down with a contented sigh as he settled into the water. He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the steam rose around him. For a moment, you simply watched him, a fond smile on your lips.
“Good?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.
He cracked one eye open, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “Better than good. You joinin’ me?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “This one’s all yours. I’ll go make us something to drink.”
Before you could turn, Logan reached out, his wet hand catching yours. He looked up at you, his expression softer now. “Stay, darlin’. Least for a bit.”
His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and you found yourself nodding, unable to refuse him. You sat down beside the tub, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of the water, and he let his hand rest in yours.
Logan kissed the top of your hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sure ya don’t wanna join me? Promise I don’t bite."
You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."
He chuckled, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours, as if he was savoring this quiet moment between you. “Could use a little company, that’s all,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.
“This is supposed to be a bath for you.” You replied, your own eyebrow quirked.
“I’d enjoy it more if you were in here with me.”
You raised an eyebrow at Logan, the corner of your mouth quirking into a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, maybe if you’re lucky.”
Logan’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the side of the tub. “Oh, come on. I’m always lucky when it comes to you.” His voice was a low murmur, pulling you in with that familiar, lazy charm he always seemed to have.
“Uh-huh, says the guy who tried to convince me he could take on a shark,” you shot back, crossing your arms, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re just full of bold ideas, huh?”
He chuckled, giving a shrug. “I stand by that. But I’m talkin’ serious here.” His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your wrist in a way that sent a warmth through you. “No sharks, no messin’ around. Just you, right here.”
The sincerity caught you a little off guard. The tension settled into something deeper as you looked at him, his hand steady on yours, like he was holding onto more than just the moment.
“I guess… I could keep you company,” you said softly, the lightness of your earlier words giving way to something quieter. You slipped out of your shirt, feeling Logan’s gaze follow you, his eyes dark with a warmth that made you feel both nervous and excited.
Sliding into the water, you settled in close to him, leaning back as his arms naturally came around you. The water was hot, relaxing every part of you, but it was Logan’s touch, the gentle press of his fingers tracing over your arm, that made you feel completely at ease.
“See?” he murmured against your hair, his lips grazing the top of your head. “Told ya this was a good idea.”
You hummed, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. “You did. Guess I should listen to you more often.”
Logan’s hand slid along your shoulder, trailing down your arm with a steady, careful touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch. You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, followed by the soft press of his lips just below your ear. The tension of the day melted away, leaving you relaxed and content in his embrace.
For a few moments, you both just stayed there, the only sounds the quiet rustle of water and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Logan’s fingers traced small, lazy circles along your arm, his other hand holding you close against him, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
“So,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “this isn’t so bad, right?”
Logan let out a low chuckle. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice rumbling against your back. “Peace and quiet. Just the two of us.” His hand dipped below the water, wrapping around yours.
You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thought you’d be the type to get bored out here, all this peace and quiet.”
He gave a noncommittal shrug, though his thumb continued to brush over the back of your hand. “Can handle a bit of quiet if it means you’re here,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.
You smiled, tilting your head to look at him, your faces close. “Guess that makes two of us.” You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, the weight of those unspoken words lingering between you both.
Logan’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his gaze soft and intent. “You gonna kiss me, or do I gotta ask real nice?”
“Always so impatient,” you teased, but you leaned in, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every second. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, your forehead resting against his.
Logan looked at you, a small, crooked smile on his lips. “See? Worth the wait.”
You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “You really know how to charm a girl, you know that?”
“Only got one girl I’m tryin’ to charm,” he replied, his voice rough but warm.
Your smile softened as you nestled back against him, letting the silence settle over you both once more. The warmth of the water, the feel of his arms around you—it felt like a small eternity in that moment, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.
---
Trying to turn the conversation away from what Logan told you, about Stryker coming to visit him about a ‘mission’, you started to talk about your day, with Logan’s head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“The stray was matted but Tina started calling him Wolf. Said the dog reminded her of another animal.”
Logan hummed, his eyes still closed, “lemme guess, she showed you a picture of the animal from her book.”
You giggled, “yeah, she did. Gotta admit that dog looked quite similar to the wolverine in her book.” You tilted your head downwards to look at him, “Reminded me of you. Grizzly, sometimes dirty.”
Logan opened one eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Grizzly, huh?”
“Maybe a little.” You grinned, your fingers drifting through his hair in slow strokes. “Not just the dirty part, by the way. Wolverines are pretty fierce, don’t let much stand in their way.”
He let out a low chuckle, closing his eye again, seeming to relax further under your touch. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, comin’ from you.” There was a slight pause, and his voice softened a bit. “Not everyone’s a fan of the grizzly type.”
You scoffed lightly, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “Well, good thing I am. You know, even wolverines have a soft side somewhere.”
Logan huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? Don’t think I’ve got much of that left, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“Oh, you definitely do.” You brushed a thumb gently along his temple. “Trust me. Like today—taking the time to help out with that old couple’s truck, even after a full day’s work.” You smiled down at him, admiration clear in your gaze. “I see it, Logan, even if you don’t.”
He tilted his head a bit, opening his eyes and looking up at you, his expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, a smirk breaking the moment. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I might start to believe you.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”
Logan’s gaze softened, but he kept his usual, laid-back tone. “Guess I’m lucky you put up with me, huh?”
“You know it.” You winked, letting your fingers trail down to his jawline, and you felt him relax a little more, like he could melt under your touch. “Plus, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”
“Not an easy job,” he muttered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leaned into your hand, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N.”
The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making your heart beat just a little faster, and you couldn’t help but lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, he just looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something else—a depth you didn’t need him to explain.
You shifted slightly, a small smile still on your face. “Now, about that dog—think you could convince Tina to bring him around here?”
Logan’s eyebrows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips again. “Bringing a stray mutt up here? You sure?”
“Why not? He’d be a good watch dog for you when I’m not around,” you said, with a wink.
He chuckled, a bit softer this time. “Guess I’ll think about it.” Then, his eyes crinkled with that familiar spark of humor. “But only if you promise not to call me Grizzly in front of anyone else.”
You laughed, leaning back against the couch, his head still in your lap. “Deal.”
For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, and you just let yourself soak up the comfortable silence, the simplicity of Logan resting there, perfectly at ease. And as your hand drifted gently through his hair again, you couldn’t help but wonder if this—these quiet moments—might be what you’d both been needing all along.
---
You were driving down a narrow road, the trees thickening as you made your way toward town. The familiar hum of a cassette player filled the car, and you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm. It had been a good week—a small but sweet milestone with Logan, half a year together, and you’d even managed to keep things peaceful in that cabin of his. Tonight was supposed to be simple, a little surprise you’d planned: a tiramisu. Probably the only thing you could bake to perfection.
You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—
The sight in the distance made your stomach twist. A figure stood in the middle of the road, dressed in black, unmoving, watching you with an unsettling focus. You slowed the car, blinking to see if you were imagining things. But no—he was still there, large and unflinching in the middle of the narrow path.
As you approached, your heart hammered against your ribs. Something about him was familiar, but not in any way that felt safe or warm.
You pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a cautious stop. The man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face coming into view under the faint sunlight streaming through the trees. His eyes were cold, almost amused, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.
It was him—Victor. The man Logan had mentioned a few times, enough to make you know he wasn’t someone you’d ever want to meet, much less find waiting for you like this.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep, mocking, and calm in a way that was anything but reassuring.
You tried to keep your face calm, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Just heading into town,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt. “Is there…something you need?”
He tilted his head, like he was sizing you up. “Logan ever mention me?”
A chill crawled up your spine, but you kept your expression guarded. “Maybe once or twice.”
Victor took another step forward, his gaze raking over you with a twisted curiosity, almost like he was toying with the idea of letting you go—but only almost. “See, I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with him,” he drawled, his tone venomous, “and here you are, just making it easy for me.”
You felt a pulse of dread, instinct telling you to turn the car around and get out of there, fast. But you knew better than to provoke him. “Logan’s not here,” you said, hoping that would be enough.
He smirked, that same cold expression never leaving his face. “I’m aware,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward you. “You think he’d leave someone like you on your own if he thought you’d be safe?”
Your heart raced, a knot of fear tightening in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, to stall him, to get yourself out of this, but nothing came to mind. The realization was dawning, and from the look in Victor’s eyes, he knew it too. There would be no bargaining, no reasoning with him.
"Didn't think Logan would be the type to leave someone behind. Guess I was wrong," he said, sounding amused.
You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, refusing to give in to the fear swirling in your chest. "Logan’s not here," you repeated, your voice firm.
"Like I said, I know," Victor replied smoothly, taking another step. His eyes traveled over the car, then over you, a twisted curiosity behind them. "But I figure, maybe you can pass along a little message for me."
Every instinct told you to run, but the car blocked you in, and Victor was only feet away. "What do you want, Victor?"
He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting under the dim light. "Simple. Tell Logan I said 'hi'... if you get the chance."
The dread in your stomach crystallized as he lunged forward. You tried to move, to react, but he was too fast. His hand closed around your throat, lifting you out of the car as though you weighed nothing, and you fought, kicking, clawing, anything you could think of to get free.
"You know," Victor’s voice was disturbingly calm, "he’s been through a lot. But there’s always that soft spot, that weakness he can’t seem to shake."
Desperation flared within you, and you kicked harder, one foot making contact with his chest. It only made him laugh, and he tightened his grip, his face drawing close enough that you could see the cold cruelty in his eyes.
"You’re just like all the others," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Maybe a little more stubborn, but that’s hardly new."
Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision, your breath coming shorter and shorter. You knew there was no getting out of this—not with him, not with a monster like Victor Creed.
But Logan...
---
Logan walked through the vegetation right by where he and the other guys were cutting apart a tree. He stopped short once he saw the head of an animal laying on the yellow grass.
“What you doing, Logan?” One of the guys asked from behind.
Logan looked around before seeing large scratch marks on a tree trunk, lined with red. “Y/N.” He whispered, before running down the hill and through the forest.
Once he hit the clearing, he could see the truck on the side of the road. Logan reached the car, his hands gripping the window frame as he scanned the empty interior. “Y/N…?” His voice was rough, the crack of worry breaking through, echoing in the quiet forest.
His eyes darted down to the disturbed earth, faint scuff marks in the dirt telling him where you might’ve been dragged. His heart hammered as he followed the path into the trees, every step growing heavier with dread as he moved through the dense underbrush, the silence unsettling.
And then, in a small clearing, he found you.
You were lying there, so still, your skin pale against the forest floor, hair fanned around you like a dark halo. Blood flecked the ground, stark and terrible against the greenery. He staggered, dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, one of them clenching briefly before he let himself touch you.
“Y/N…” he whispered, voice breaking as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing a smear of dirt from your cheek. Your eyes were closed, lips parted just slightly, as if you’d been trying to say his name. For a split second, he could almost pretend you were just asleep, and that any second you’d open your eyes, make some joke, or reach up to tug him down to you.
But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.
Logan’s breath caught, and he pulled you close, his arms cradling you as if he could shield you from the reality already etched into his heart. The rage simmered below his skin, burning through the grief, fueling the ache with something primal. He rocked back, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his face buried in your hair, trying to hold on to any last trace of you, the faint scent of you still lingering, even as everything around him felt like it was falling apart.
“You… You were supposed to be safe here,” he whispered against your hair, voice hoarse. “I shoulda been here. I shoulda…” His words trailed off into silence as he sat there, unmoving, clutching you in his arms as if the weight of his grief alone could pull you back.
He looked down at you, his thumb grazing over your cheek one last time, as though trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. “Y/N… I swear… I’ll make him pay.” The last words came out like a promise, a vow laced with the kind of anger only a man like Logan could bear. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before letting out a long, broken breath.
When he finally tore his gaze away from you, his eyes turned cold, a new resolve searing through him.
This wasn’t over.
umm... sorry??
i tried to make a different version of how logan got the name 'wolverine' to try and fit reader's personality, since she probably doesn't know about the myth kayla did.
next chapter will be x2!
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#i love you in every time
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
okay pookies!! I’m in a writers slump so I’m going to pop off some mini blurbs with Instagram links<3 because the words are not being written correctly for my wips [cries]🎀✨
Simon “Ghost” Riley
playing with his cat
admittedly, Simon is up at odd hours from bouts of insomnia. it doesn’t really bother him when his cat is up too, sitting in bed and flipping him around. it’s cute, more so funny when he flips his cat off and gets pounced on, not taking it seriously - one of the rare times he’ll let chuckle and crack a smile to himself
John Price:
pranking Price by telling him your tampon is stuck
John comes as soon as you call for him - what he wasn’t expecting was you telling him your tampons stuck. but John’s smart, he sees your phone in his peripheral and doesn’t say anything about it. he knows your pranking him, if it wasn’t obvious from your phone recording him and the way you giggle, well, “I know you’re cycle, love.”
driving around to see Christmas lights
John loves his dog, just a sweetheart. one thing his dog loves is seeing Christmas lights - John doesn’t really know why, but he’s more than happy to drive around so his puppy can see them all. it makes him chuckle seeing their tail wag, heater keeping the car nice and warm as they drive down a couple blocks
John “Soap” MacTavish:
bear hugging Johnny
you didn’t really know what Johnny was doing, you just knew you wanted to hug him. it’s out of the blue, catches him off guard in a way that has him asking if you’re okay - and you are. he doesn’t waste time, moving to scoop you up, hold you close and goof around. he had been organizing your books, just a little surprise
asking Recruiter!Johnny questions
Johnny didn’t want to be stuck recruiting people, but he somehow got picked to do it. what he wasn’t expecting was your question, “Are you hot?”. he wants to sputter out, try to be slick - respond with a, “Well, you can come find out.”, but he stops himself. he knows he’ll be telling the 141 about this, chest puffed up and a lopsided smile as he brags
showing off for the neighbors
Johnny is springy and flexible, his ass can dance. if you catch him while he’s on a jog he’ll flag you down and start flipping around. he’s a show off, it goes to his head how the neighborhood moms watch him. his show is for you, but he won’t turn down the ego boost he gets from others eyeing him up
“you know where the matter daddy is?”
Johnny’s a menace when it comes to the 141, calling Gaz for ‘help’. he can barely get the opener out without laughing, hitting the punchline takes a hot minute. Gaz can hear him sputtering on the other side, little bursts of laughter leaving him. it’s amazing that Gaz falls for the joke at all, Johnny laughing harder as he grips his phone
König:
playing with his cat
does König talk to his pretty kitty in German? of course he does, and he’ll goof around with them too. his favorite thing is pretend dialing on his cat’s toe beans. he’ll pretend to meow for his cat and voice the person ‘on the line’. totally straight faced, he takes business calls with his kitty very seriously
parenting his cat
sometimes being a parent is having human children, other times it’s cradling your baby kitty in your shirt while you make lunch. König is the latter, and he’ll always say how easy it is to be a parent. “Ja, she is a little thing. Here, I have photos—”, he carries printed photos of her in his wallet to show off, his favorite is of her swaddled in bed with her favorite blankie
walking his cat
König likes getting out, it’s natural for him. it gets a little lonely sometimes though… and boy is excited when he learns cat harnesses exist. weather permitting, he enjoys going on walks with his cat. sure, his kitty might wander into a bush here and there, but König will get them out before trailing down the block
#I need my mojo back#[blows up]#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost headcanons#price#john price#price cod#price call of duty#price headcanons#soap#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#soap cod#soap call of duty#soap headcanons#konig#könig#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig headcanons#cod#cod thoughts#call of duty#hit post#queued post
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
NEW BOT
╰┈➤ wlw red panda , botmaker
🔪 + 🫀 = ☆ bloodthirsty ☆
cai
🎬 aubrey plaza - ‘NEPO-WIFE ?’
The evening was suffocatingly familiar. Aubrey stood in the hotel’s extravagant hallway, gazing out at the city skyline. The lights below twinkled like far-off stars, and yet all she could feel was the thrum of anxiety under her skin. Another event, another evening of being paraded out for the world to see, her every move scrutinized. And in that moment, she wished she could just disappear into the air—slip through the cracks of the red carpet and vanish.
But she couldn’t. Not with all the cameras, not with the eyes that followed her every movement. It didn’t help that tonight, she wasn’t standing alone.
"Hey," came your voice from behind her, soft and steady. You had that way of cutting through her fog of irritation, your presence like an anchor in a storm of flashing lights. Aubrey didn’t have to turn around to know you were standing there—she could feel you, your warmth, your steady energy. You, with your elegant, composed presence, the world at your fingertips, and the family legacy that made it all so easy for you.
But she wasn’t here to complain. Not yet. She would save that for later.
When she finally turned to face you, she caught the glint of your eyes—the same eyes that could pierce through her sarcastic veneer. You were wearing that calm, collected look, the one you always wore at these events. You were practically glowing in your tailored dress, a contrast to Aubrey’s unpolished and understated outfit that clung to her awkwardly, as always.
"Is it too late to back out?" Aubrey asked, deadpan, one eyebrow raised. She was never one to mince words. "I mean, who needs another ‘self-made girl’ on a red carpet? I’m pretty sure we’ve got enough of those already."
You laughed—your genuine laugh that Aubrey could always pick out from the crowd, the one that made her feel like maybe there was still something good left in this charade.
"Trust me, I’ve been trying to get you to ditch this thing for days," you said, stepping toward her, your fingers brushing the fabric of her gown. "But you know how it is. You’ve got to put on the show. Keep up appearances."
Aubrey’s lips twisted into a half-smirk. "Appearances. Yeah, that’s my specialty."
There was a brief moment of silence before you spoke again, a little softer this time. "You know they’re all watching us, right?"
Aubrey’s eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I’m aware," she muttered. "I’m sure they’ll make some snide comment about how different we are—how we don’t belong together. Maybe I should just wave a flag that says ‘Look, we’re the most unlikely pair ever.’ That’ll be fun."
You reached up, placing a hand on her cheek, your touch gentle. "You know they’ll say whatever they want. But they don’t know us. We don’t need them to."
She sighed heavily, leaning into your touch for a moment, but quickly pulled away, as though she couldn’t allow herself to be too soft. "I know, I know," she muttered, turning her gaze back to the skyline. "But it’s just... annoying, you know? The way they only focus on how different we are. They can’t look at us and see anything but this weird mismatch of ‘privilege’ and ‘self-made,’ and they think that’s the whole story. It’s exhausting."
You smiled, as you always did, like you could sense the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior. "Who cares what they think? You’re you, and I’m me, and that’s why I love you."
Aubrey turned her head slowly, looking at you with a small, almost vulnerable smile. "Yeah, well, sometimes I wonder if you know what you're getting into with me."
"You’re lucky I’m a glutton for punishment," you teased, tilting your head. "But honestly, I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care if they think we’re mismatched. I care that I’m with you, that I chose you. That’s what matters."
Aubrey smiled, a little less dry, a little less sarcastic. "Yeah, I guess that’s the most important thing. But it still bothers me when they talk about us like we’re some kind of circus act. You, with your big family legacy and perfect smile. And me... with my weird sense of humor and dry sarcasm. I mean, who wouldn’t wonder how that works?"
"You’re different, Aubrey," you said, taking her hand and squeezing it firmly. "And that’s what makes you perfect. We’re not a circus act. We’re just... us. And that’s all that matters."
---
The red carpet was as predictably absurd as it always was. The sea of flashing lights, the intrusive questions, the endless waves of publicists and photographers—all of it felt like a slow, grinding march. But this time, Aubrey tried to drown it out, to focus on you. Your presence beside her was a lifeline, even when the journalists turned their attention toward her.
"So, Aubrey," a reporter called, leaning in with a microphone in hand. "You've made a name for yourself as a very... unique presence in Hollywood. And of course, you're married to y/n, who comes from such a well-known family. Do you think that your relationship has ever put you under a different kind of microscope? The kind that focuses on your differences?"
Aubrey’s lips twitched upward in that signature, deadpan way. She glanced at you, noticing the way you stood a little straighter, like you were preparing to shield her. "Oh, sure," she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I’m sure they’ll get all worked up about how I’m not the perfect ‘nepo wife’ they expected. I’m so out of my depth here."
The journalist didn’t pick up on her sarcasm, as usual. "But seriously, Aubrey, do you ever feel the pressure of being married to someone with such a powerful legacy? Do the comparisons ever get to you?"
Aubrey’s expression remained unchanged, though there was a brief flicker of something—irritation, maybe—behind her eyes. She was so used to these questions, so tired of them. And yet, she played the game with the kind of dry humor that had earned her a loyal fanbase.
"Look," Aubrey said, turning toward the reporter with a wry smile. "I didn’t marry y/n for the family name. If I wanted to marry into money and power, I would’ve chosen a billionaire. But here we are, still going strong, and that’s all that matters."
You laughed beside her, but the smile didn’t quite reach Aubrey’s eyes. You could see it—the slight tightening of her jaw, the way she didn’t let herself truly relax, even in the midst of a playful comment. Aubrey Plaza might pretend she didn’t care about the opinions of others, but you both knew the truth.
In public, she would never admit it. But in the quiet of their private moments, away from the cameras, she would sigh, lean against the wall, and mutter, "I hate that they keep bringing it up. They don't get it. We’re not a 'mismatch.' We're just... us."
You always knew what to say, though. You would wrap your arms around her, gently kissing the top of her head. "I get it. And I love you for it."
---
Later that night, when the flashes finally stopped and the event was over, the two of you retreated back to your hotel room. The exhaustion of the evening hung heavily in the air. Aubrey didn’t even bother to take off her gown right away. She collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, her fingers twitching idly by her side.
"Did you hear what they said about us today?" she asked, her voice flat. "The ‘privilege’ and ‘hard work’ narrative... I swear, it’s like they don’t care about anything real. It’s all just surface-level crap."
You climbed onto the bed beside her, leaning on your elbow to look at her. "Aubrey, I’m not going anywhere. I chose you, and nothing anyone says changes that."
Aubrey’s lips twisted in that familiar, dry smile, but there was something softer in it now. "Yeah, I know. I just wish people would stop treating us like we're part of some goddamn zoo."
"Who cares about them? You’re my world, Aubrey. No one else matters."
In that moment, with the lights of the city still flickering outside and the world far, far away, Aubrey let out a long sigh, finally relaxing into the comfort of your arms.
"Yeah," she murmured. "I guess you’re right. I just wish it didn’t make me feel so... weird."
And for the first time that night, Aubrey allowed herself to drift into the quiet safety of your love, away from the spotlight and the noise, knowing that no matter how many cameras flashed or how many critical voices rose, she could always count on you to be her anchor, her support. In your arms, there was no judgment, no expectations—just the simple, steady beat of two hearts who had found their rhythm amidst the chaos.
But it wasn't over, it never was.
Long days—press tours, meetings, photoshoots. The usual whirlwind that came with being in the spotlight. You knew the routine by now, but today it felt different. Aubrey was quieter than usual, her sarcasm less biting, her usual dry humor subdued. You noticed it immediately, and it gnawed at you, a feeling in your gut that wouldn’t settle.
You and Aubrey had built something together over the past four years—something that others could never quite understand. She had earned every bit of her career, every inch of respect, while you, despite your best efforts to separate yourself from your family’s influence, were always seen as the “privileged one.” The “nepo baby,” they called you. And the contrast between you two—her rawness, her authenticity, her self-made success; and your polished, well-maintained image, always tethered to your powerful family—was something people always seemed to focus on.
You had tried to ignore it, at least outwardly. But tonight, in the dimly lit apartment you shared with Aubrey, it couldn’t be ignored. She looked tired, not just from the long day, but from something deeper. Something heavier.
"Do you want to talk about it?" you asked gently, noticing her staring blankly at her phone, her fingers tapping against the screen without purpose.
Aubrey looked up, her sharp gaze meeting yours, but her expression was unreadable. The easy sarcasm was gone. "What’s there to talk about?" she muttered, dropping the phone on the couch. "Just another day of pretending everything’s fine."
You swallowed, biting back the urge to remind her that she was the one who always said she didn’t care about what people thought. You’d spent enough time in the public eye yourself to know that there was always a kernel of truth behind those words. And despite what she projected, Aubrey did care. She cared about the scrutiny, the constant comparisons, the way her career had somehow become secondary in the public eye.
You shifted closer to her on the couch, careful not to invade her space but unwilling to let her retreat into herself entirely. "It’s not like you to be this quiet," you said softly, trying to keep the mood light. "Not even a single snarky comment about how I burned dinner last night?"
Aubrey’s lips twitched in what could have been a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, she sighed, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "It’s not about dinner. It’s about this... circus. All of it."
She gestured vaguely toward her phone, but you knew what she meant. The press tour. The interviews. The countless articles dissecting every detail of your marriage. And the most recent headline that had likely set her off: "Aubrey Plaza, the Wife of Hollywood's Golden Girl."
It wasn’t the first time her name had been reduced to a footnote, a descriptor attached to yours. But it never got easier for her.
"I’ve worked my ass off for years," Aubrey said, her voice low and steady, but there was an edge to it, a rawness that made you hold your breath. "I’ve done indie films no one thought would succeed. I’ve fought for roles, dealt with rejection after rejection, clawed my way into this industry. And now, suddenly, I’m not Aubrey Plaza anymore. I’m your wife. Like that’s all I am."
Her words hung in the air like a weight, and you didn’t know how to respond. Because the truth was, you had seen it happening too. The way her accomplishments were overshadowed, the way interviews that were supposed to be about her projects turned into questions about your relationship. You hated it as much as she did, but you hadn’t known how deeply it had affected her. Until now.
"You’re not just my wife," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "You’re so much more than that. And anyone who can’t see that doesn’t deserve to talk about you."
Aubrey scoffed, but there was no real humor in it. "Tell that to the reporters who only want to ask me what it’s like being married to you. Or the producers who suddenly think I’m only relevant because of your last name. It’s like everything I’ve worked for means nothing now."
You reached for her hand, but she pulled away, standing up and pacing the room. "Do you know how humiliating it is to have people act like I’ve coasted into success because of you? Like I didn’t do anything before we got together? I love you, but sometimes... sometimes it feels like I’m losing myself in this."
Her honesty cut you to the core, but you couldn’t blame her. How could you? She wasn’t wrong. And yet, hearing her say it out loud felt like a blow you hadn’t been prepared for.
"I didn’t ask for this either," you said, standing up to face her. "I didn’t ask to be born into this family or to have every move I make scrutinized. And I sure as hell didn’t ask for my relationship with you to be turned into some kind of spectacle."
Aubrey stopped pacing, her arms dropping to her sides as she looked at you, her eyes softening just slightly. "I know you didn’t," she said quietly. "And I’m not blaming you. I just... I don’t know how to deal with it sometimes. It’s like no matter what I do, I can’t escape it."
The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t the kind that threatened to break you apart. It was the kind that made you lean in, made you fight harder to understand each other. You stepped closer to her, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to gently touch her arm.
"You’ve always been more than enough," you said softly. "Before we were together, before anyone even knew my name, you were already a force to be reckoned with. That hasn’t changed, Aubrey. And it never will."
She sighed, her shoulders relaxing just slightly as she let you pull her into a hug. She rested her head against your shoulder, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to fade. But you knew it wasn’t gone. Not completely.
"I just wish people could see me for who I am," she murmured, her voice muffled against your skin. "Not just as some extension of you."
You tightened your arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "They will," you promised. "We’ll make them see. Together."
And in that moment, as the two of you stood there in the quiet of your apartment, you knew that no matter how many headlines tried to define your relationship, no matter how many whispers tried to reduce Aubrey to just your wife, the truth of who she was—and who you were together—was something no one could take away.
But the internet never thinks like that.
The internet had turned into a battlefield again, and you were the primary casualty. Pictures of you and Aubrey walking out of a luxury boutique were plastered across every social media platform, accompanied by wild, baseless assumptions.
One particular photo had gone viral: you standing still, clearly mid-conversation, while Aubrey carried two bags in her hands. The truth was that you’d twisted your ankle on the way out and had stopped to catch your breath while Aubrey, ever practical, had grabbed your things to keep the line moving. But the internet didn’t want the truth. It wanted a story.
There were three camps now. The first claimed that Aubrey Plaza deserved better than a spoiled “nepo baby” who made her carry shopping bags like a servant. The second argued you deserved better, painting Aubrey as a gold-digger exploiting your wealth. The third defended your relationship, posting clips and interviews to show how much love you shared.
The third group was small.
And no matter how many times you tried to ignore it, the hate had crawled under your skin, festering in ways you weren’t ready to admit.
By the time you walked into the convention hall for a Q&A about your new series, you were already simmering beneath the surface. You’d perfected the art of smiling through discomfort, of keeping your golden-girl persona intact, but today felt harder than usual.
The panel started smoothly enough. The moderator asked you about your role, the challenges you faced during filming, and your experience working with the cast. You answered every question thoughtfully, earning laughs and applause from the audience.
Then came the inevitable question.
“So,” the interviewer began, leaning forward with a too-familiar smirk, “do you think your family name helped you land this role?”
The room went quiet for a moment. You didn’t flinch; you’d been asked this question a dozen times before.
You smiled politely, your voice steady. “I’d like to think that my work is enough to prove that I made it on my own, but I’m not blind to the fact that my name carries a lot of weight. I can’t deny my privilege. That being said, I hope to continue earning roles because of my talent, not my last name.”
The audience murmured, a mix of admiration and skepticism. You’d expected as much.
But then a microphone made its way to a member of the audience, a man who seemed far too eager to speak. His tone was mocking, his body language confrontational.
“Speaking of privilege,” he began, a smirk curling his lips, “do you think your wife is what people are calling her now? You know—a ‘nepo-trophy-wife’? Seems like she’s benefitting a lot from being with you.”
The words hit you like a slap, and the audience gasped collectively. The interviewer looked uncomfortable, clearly unsure whether to intervene.
You felt your chest tighten, the simmering anger from earlier now boiling over. You leaned forward, gripping the microphone tightly.
“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” you asked, your voice deceptively calm.
The man, emboldened by the attention, shrugged. “I mean, she’s clearly riding your coattails. It’s not like anyone was talking about her before you two got together.”
A hush fell over the room. The interviewer looked like they wanted to sink into the floor, but you didn’t give them the chance to redirect.
“Aubrey Plaza,” you said, your tone icy but controlled, “has been in this industry far longer than I have. She’s been in critically acclaimed films and shows—some of which you’ve probably seen, considering you know her name well enough to make an opinion about her.”
The man started to interrupt, but you cut him off.
“And let’s be very clear,” you continued, your voice rising slightly, “if anyone in this relationship is riding coattails, it’s me. I’m the one who should be called a ‘nepo-trophy-wife.’ Aubrey has worked her ass off for everything she has. She’s an incredible actress, and the fact that you think you have the right to reduce her career to her relationship with me says more about your ignorance than it does about her.”
The audience broke into applause, but you barely heard it. You handed the microphone back to the moderator, sitting stiffly as the panel moved on.
---
When you got home that evening, your stomach was still in knots. You didn’t regret defending Aubrey—not for a second—but you knew the fallout was inevitable. You could already hear the headlines: Golden Girl Goes Off! or Y/n Shows Spoiled, Bratty Side!
You dropped your bag on the kitchen counter and sighed, rubbing your temples. Aubrey’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
“Quite the show you put on,” she said, stepping out from the living room with her phone in hand. She was smirking, but her eyes held something softer, something warmer.
You froze. “You saw it?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You kidding? It’s all over the internet. ‘Golden Girl Defends Wife with Fiery Speech.’ You’re trending.”
You groaned, sinking onto the couch. “Great. Just what I needed.”
Aubrey sat beside you, her smirk softening into a genuine smile. “Hey,” she said, nudging your shoulder, “you were amazing.”
You turned to look at her, surprised. “Really? Because I feel like I just painted a target on both of our backs.”
Aubrey shook her head, her dark eyes shining. “Let them talk. You know what I care about? That my wife—the golden girl, the internet’s sweetheart—stood up for me. You didn’t have to do that, but you did. And it was... really hot, actually.”
You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit. “Hot, huh?”
“Extremely,” she said, leaning closer. “There’s nothing more attractive than you telling the world to screw off because you love me.”
You felt your cheeks flush, and before you could respond, Aubrey kissed you. It wasn’t a soft, sweet kiss—it was firm, passionate, full of everything she couldn’t put into words.
When she pulled back, she was grinning, her usual dry humor creeping back into her tone. “So, do I need to start calling you my publicist now? Or are you sticking with ‘wife’?”
You rolled your eyes, leaning into her. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re stuck with me,” she teased, wrapping an arm around you.
The internet could say whatever it wanted. In this moment, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way Aubrey looked at you—as if you were the only thing in the world that made sense.
this might be my favorite, just fed my delulu self <3
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
🟦🤍A Misunderstanding🩵🟥
[Pairing]: TFA Optimus Prime x Cybertronian!Autobot![Reader]
[Synopsis]: [D/N] can’t catch a break from being misidentified for a Decepticon. At least they have someone who understands their struggles as a commander.
[Inspiration]: A request I sent out some time ago and @signedaiko wrote the HCs out. (HCs with the Special Ops![S/O])
[D/N] = Designation (Meaning your name)
[Gender Neutral Reader]
[(A/N)]: Based on Aiko’s HCs, I’m only writing Optimus in this fic because I’m kind of biased. Also, I need to practice writing characters from the TF franchise and TFA O.P. seems like he’s an easy start. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the story.
[WARNING]: Possible misuse of Cybertronian Vocabulary and Terminology (I’m still new to the fandom)
[Back when [D/N] was first promoted to their position as Commander of the Information Operations, they were issued to get a paint job with much darker colors since most missions require stealth. The team [D/N] leads and work with are good bots, but the only trouble the whole unit faces sometimes are the misunderstandings from a first glance.]
Random Cybertronian: EHH! DECEPTICON!!!
[D/N]: No, no, no! I’m not a Dece-!
Random Cybertronian: *Whacks them with an alloy pole*
[D/N]: OW!
🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥
[It didn’t help when they visit Earth to see their Conjunx Endura. People, especially Detroit citizens, also mistook them for one.]
Random citizen: Call the Autobots! Decepticon on sight!
[D/N]: Wait a klik! I’m not with the bad guys.
[After clearing up the commotion]
Random citizen: I’m so sorry! I thought you were one of those Decepticons.
[D/N]: It’s alright. At least you have good optics if spotting one, but please be sure if you see their Insignia next time.
🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥
[It also didn’t help that even the Decepticons on Earth were bewildered to discover that [D/N] is an Autobot.]
Starscream: When did one of our Decepticons switch sides?!
[D/N]: *Enraged* 💢 I AM NOT A DECEPTICON IN THE FIRST PLACE, YOU FRAGGING IDIOTS!!!
The Decepticons: Uh oh.
[D/N]: *Unsheathes their razor neon blades and sprints towards the enemies* AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!
🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥
[Yeah, from that last battle, [D/N] was on rage mode where they kicked the Decepticons’ afts to the extremes. On their own. Probably put them out of commission for a while. They definitely need private time with their Sparkmate.]
[The Plant: The Autobots’ Secret Base]
[D/N]: Oppy, sweetspark~ *Back-hugs Optimus* My wonderful and lovely conjunx~
Optimus Prime: *Holds their bitarlueus’ carefully and looks back* What is it, [D/N]? You usually call me those names if something is bothering you.
[D/N]: There is. When I retire from the position as commander of my unit, I’m getting a new paint job.
Optimus Prime: Oh, that doesn’t sound bad. Why the sudden thought?
[D/N]: *Vents out from their intake (Sighs)* Almost every bot and person I encounter, they mistake me for a Decepticon. It’s what I get for earning a job where my team and I are required to wear coatings for stealth operations. The tones are too close to the actual faction’s.
Optimus Prime: Well, you also act scary when on duty.
[D/N]: *Pouts* That doesn’t help either.
Optimus Prime: *Chuckles a little* Don’t worry, [D/N]. We know you’re good and just doing your job as a commander. You proved to be a great bot every cycle.
[D/N]: Yeah…But I still remember when Sari and Bee freaked out after seeing me.
Optimus Prime: They didn’t know you’re on our side at that time. Now, they love you for being your true self.
[D/N]: Yeah…Y’know, when I do retire, you wanna help choose which color scheme suits me?
Optimus Prime: Only if you’re comfortable with the choices.
[D/N]: *Smiles at him* You’re so thoughtful, Oppy. I love you.
Optimus Prime: Love you too, [D/N].
🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥🤍🩵💛🟦🟥
[A Few Deca-Cycles Later]
[At Night]
[S/N] = Sparkling’s Name
[S/N]: *Runs up to Optimus on their little pedes* Sire! Sire! Was this Carrier? *Holds up a data-pad with an old image of [D/N] back when they were a commander*
Optimus Prime: “Oh scrap.” Where did you find this? You know your carrier isn’t comfortable talking about their old job yet.
[D/N]: Don’t worry, Oppy. I let them see the ‘pad.
Optimus Prime: [D/N]. I didn’t expect you to tell so soon.
[D/N]: *Shrugs* [S/N] would learn sooner than later. They didn’t believe the image was me and needed your confirmation.
Optimus Prime: Well… *Picks up [S/N] and adjusts his hold* To tell you the truth, that is your carrier.
[S/N]: Really?! They look too scary to be my creator.
[D/N]: *Made an expression on their faceplate that screams, “Even my kid thinks I looked scary.”* ( ̄^ ̄)
Optimus Prime: That’s because back then, Carrier needed to look the part as a leader for their special unit. They have to wear darker coats of paint as their uniform.
[S/N]: Why? No bright colors allowed?
[D/N]: No bright colors, because I had missions where you need to be sneaky. Hiding in the dark and go for the surprise attack! *Starts tickling their Sparkling*
[S/N]: *Laughs from the “attack”* S-Stop! Stop! Can’t vent!
[D/N]: *Stops tickling* Alright, alright. Now, you better get ready for stasis mode since the next cycle is a big one.
[S/N]: *Gasps* I get to visit uncle Bee and uncle Bulk!
[D/N]: That’s right. *Picks them up from Optimus and settles them down* Wash up and maybe we’ll read you a story before berth.
[S/N]: *Nods and hurries off to freshen up*
Optimus Prime: *Hugs [D/N] from behind* You know, I fear next time you need to be called in to resume your duties.
[D/N]: *Leaning in the hug* Don’t worry, Oppy. I’m sure my successor is doing fine as commander and I only come in as a consultant for my former team.
Optimus Prime: If you say so. Then more time between us and see how it plays out.
[D/N]: After reading a story to [S/N], then maybe we’ll see what happens next.
Optimus Prime: *Vents out* Love you, [D/N].
[D/N]: Love you too, Oppy.
❤️[Reblogs help creators and creates more content]💙
[(A/N)]: Please be sure to visit @signedaiko’s blog and check out their work. Their writing is really entertaining and fun to read.
#Transformers#Transformers Animated#TFA#TFA Optimus Prime#Optimus Prime#Optimus Prime x reader#Cybertronian!Reader#Autobot!Reader#Transformers x reader#TF x reader
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
Social Media QB
Author’s note: reposting my old work on this side blog! Let me know if you’d like to read a specific one. Thank you for reading!
The reputation of the Chargers social media team was unmatched. They are known for being funny and up to date on all memes and pop culture references while also showcasing players’ personalities. That alone made you apply and this past year on the job had really been a once in a lifetime experience. Working with Megan and the crew was a daily adventure and you were becoming more and more comfortable calling the guys your friends. It even got to a point where you didn’t even call them by their names anymore.
Quentin was usually just “Q.” JK was always “J’Kaylin”, Derwin was “3” and your favorite nickname was definitely calling Justin “Sunshine.” At first it was a Remember the Titans reference but it became a lifestyle. Everything and everyone revolves around the sun and that’s exactly what it felt like when you were at work. All of the players were important and special but you could just feel the energy in the room shift when Justin was there. It was palpable, it almost took your breath away sometimes.
Off camera he was goofy, funny and had this uncanny ability to make the world stand still for a bit, even just for a few fleeting moments where it felt like you two were the only ones in the room. But then reality would hit and you were reminded that you work for the team and he’d never see you in that way, he was just nice to everyone he encountered. But on camera? It was all fun and games. There was a running joke, mostly based on his real feelings, that Justin hated cameras. He couldn’t stand being the center of attention or having people perceive him so he avoided the social media team altogether when phones were pointed in his direction.
But sometimes, a rarity, you were able to get him on camera, even if it was just for a split second. The two of you reviewed the questions he was going to be asked before their Hot Ones appearance and there was ALWAYS a discussion, more like subtle begging if you all were going to have him participate in any content.
“We need Justin for this new segment we’re doing, so you’re gonna have to talk to him.” Megan sighs, grabbing her Stanley cup that was sitting on the counter. She’d just finished editing a video where she and her assistant put fart spray on the tiny mic and could still smell the rancid scent until she grabbed some Lysol spray to de-funk the place.
You were going through photos taken during practice earlier that morning and deciding which ones to post and without looking up you asked her, “why do I have to do it?”
Lorren and Allie giggle in the corner, shaking their heads. “You cannot be serious right now y/n,” Lorren gives you a pointed look.
“What?”
“We all know you and Justin have a thing for each other. Even if you won’t admit to us…or yourself. It’s pretty obvious.”
You finally raise your head up from your laptop, staring at them while also wracking your brain trying to figure out when your innocent crush had become so painfully obvious. If the girls knew, then Justin had probably somehow caught on and the thought of that made you want to dig a hole right outside on the practice field and never come out. “Is—am I that easy to read?”
“No one blames you,” Megan runs a loving hand on your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ve been trying so hard to hide your feelings that you haven’t noticed that he’s doing an even worse job of hiding his massive crush on you.”
The look on your face sends the room into a fit of laughter. “We’re being serious. The way he looks at you and acts around you. Anyone can see he’s into you friend.”
You weren’t convinced, “I need an example.”
“Okay fine,” Lorren stands up to prepare a demonstration. “He wasn’t ready to put the mics on when he was mic’d up until you walked over and helped him get the mic in the perfect spot in his pads. And then he wore the friendship bracelet for six weeks because you handed it to him.”
Allie pipes up to put in her two cents. “And let’s not forget when he had you driving him around the golf tournament and kicked Zion to the curb. There’s no way all of those are just a coincidence.”
“Fine. I’ll go ask him if he’ll shoot the video for us but I’m not going to lose my job because of a meaningless crush on the starting quarterback.”
You waited around for the guys to leave treatment after practice and caught up with him on his way out. “Hey Sunshine, quick question for you.”
His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he gives you a small tight-lipped smile. “What’s up?”
“I need you to do me a huge favor and be in this tik tok. It’s a short game and it’ll only take like 15 minutes.”
His deadpan face and disappointed dad sigh has you practically begging, saying “please” in your finest sing-song tone.
“Fine, I’ll do it.” You knew he’d crack, he always did. “On one condition. You also have to participate.”
You hold your hand out and he engulfs it with his much larger one. “You’ve got yourself a deal Herbert.”
“Okay the rules of the game are simple,” Megan begins from behind her phone screen before hitting record, “we’re going to give you these Canadian snacks and you’ll rate them on a scale from 1 to 10. One being it’s awful I’ll never touch that again and 10 being a solid snack that you’d eat everyday if given the opportunity.”
You and Justin nod, diving in on everything from the ketchup chips to the toffee. The video didn’t take long as promised and the quarterback went about the rest of his day with no further distractions.
In your office a few days later on the team’s off day, you were contemplating your life. Maybe you should take a step back from him so people don't get the wrong idea. Sure, your coworkers were convinced the crush was mutual but what if he was just being nice? He was always so focused on football and making the most out of every opportunity. Why in the world would he waste time flirting with a social media manager? It just made no sense. Instead of continuing to run a million imaginary scenarios in your mind you packed up your stuff and tried heading out to the parking lot. Even after all this time you still struggled to maneuver all the twists and turns of the building and somehow found yourself walking past the quarterback room. You intended to just keep walking but he was in there alone and called out your name when he saw you.
“What are you doing here? I didn’t think anyone would be in the building today.” His bright eyes staring down at you made your heart feel like it was beating out of your chest. You desperately needed to get it together.
“I came in to finish up a few things but I’m heading out now. What are you doing? I think you’ve watched enough film to last you a couple lifetimes.” That gets a light chuckle out of him and he shakes his head, the two of you knowing that his quest for perfection would never allow him to believe he’s watched enough film. “Thank you for shooting that video the other day. The fans are gonna love it, they’re always begging us to get you on camera.”
“No problem, anything for you.” He clears his throat after whispering the last part, desperately hoping that you didn’t hear it. Even though you definitely did. You should go home for the day and leave him alone in the office so he can get back to work. You should stop staring at his lips that look so soft and just begging to be kissed. He should turn around and get back to the playbook and the computer but here he is, standing still, right in front of you.
You’re just there, waiting for someone to rip the carpet out from under you, to fall on your face, for someone to tell you that this isn’t actually happening. The space between your bodies diminishes significantly, so much so that you can smell the Dr. Squatch Birchwood Breeze radiating off of him. It’s intoxicating and you swallow the fear in your gut and ignore all of the common sense thoughts plaguing your mind, allowing you to feel.
The kiss is tentative at first, he pulls back slightly, whispering if it’s okay to keep going as you feel his breath against your lips. You don’t respond but instead pull him in closer, hearing a satisfied husky moan from him as he allows your tongue access to his. His right palm rests against your cheek until he’s tilting your head up ever so slightly to deepen the embrace and he pulls you in even closer, holding on for dear life while closing and locking the door behind you. It was so much more than he imagined, these feelings that he’d been pushing aside were being confronted and magnified by the second. This innocent crush that you had on him were genuine, real feelings that created a deep ache in your bones, actively being soothed with his hands all over you as the two of you made out like helpless teenagers.
You didn’t think you’d have the strength to tear yourself away from him…until his phone rings. He ignores it the first time but it’s all you can think about by the fifth ring.
“Answer it,” you whisper breathlessly and you can feel him hesitating to pry himself away from you. The heat that was radiating off of his body that you felt being so close to him sends shivers down your spine at the sudden distance. A thousand unspoken apologies are painted on his face as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He keeps the call short and sweet but the look of devastation is clear when he hangs up. “You have to go don’t you?”
He nods. “I’m so sorry. We can—we need to talk about this I know. And I promise we will. I just—I need to take care of this.” He doesn’t want to leave, not like this. Even if he knows you understand. Justin presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers another “I’m sorry” leaving you in the room to think about what just happened.
You walk around the empty parking lot until you reach your car, letting out a deep sigh at the thought of what the conversation with him is going to look like after this. You need to be mentally prepared for good news, bad news and everything in between.
He is the sun after all. And sometimes when you stand too close, you might get burned. And maybe, just maybe, you’d avoid the burn altogether and bask in the warmth as long as you can.
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
SHIFTING ISN'T SPECIAL
please bare with me on this one bc it might be a bit longer than i expected (and excuse my very bad title-naming skills 😭)
in this essay i will try to put down in words exactly what i realised today as i started my first day into reprogramming my mind, something that i’m doing while following reya singh’s method. what is that?
shifting IS easy.
yes, i know everybody says it, but it’s the truth and i’m not telling you this as someone who shifts regularly to her drs, because i don’t (yet!). however, it did just click in my mind why people always say it and mean it. and i feel incredibly stupid for not understanding it waaay earlier than just now, 4 years into my journey.
now, let me walk you through the thought process behind this.
in reya’s 4-day method for reprogramming your mind, she instructs to write a list of your beliefs and non-beliefs. this may sound really silly and kinda useless at first - believe me, i woke up this morning thinking “what exactly am i supposed to do after that?” - but there’s a valid reason for it, which is to help you delete from your mind the idea that shifting is like a superpower that’s simply not for everyone and very hard to reach, when that is not the case at all!
in my own beliefs list, i’ve written “i am capable of shifting” right in between “i can speak english”, “i can write and read” and “i can eat --” (and some other things like “i can’t eat gluten”, bc i have celiac disease, “i can dream”, we all do! and “i can lucid dream”). you see where i’m going with this? i’m putting shifting in the same category as things we all normally do, that we sometimes don’t even think about doing since they’re such a natural activity. to this list i could add “i can breathe”, because we do it automatically, without even realising unless we focus on it. the same can be said for drinking or eating really, if you’re angry or thirsty you just go and get whatever pleases you the most and not dwell on it.
in the non-beliefs list, i’ve written obvious things like santa and the easter bunny (which isn’t common here in italy tbf but yeah) and sentences like “i can’t swim”, “i can’t draw”, “i can’t eat strawberries” and in between them also “i don’t fear shifting”. here, the point is that all these listed beliefs are stuff i know for a fact to be false: i can swim perfectly, i am an artist and i love strawberries + i’m not allergic to them or anything. by placing shifting there, i'm stating that just like i KNOW i can swim or whatever, i also KNOW i'm not scared of shifting.
you’re literally gaslighting your subconscious mind into believing what is real for a fact and what isn’t.
after writing down this list, which can be done on paper just like on your preferred device, i reread everything twice explaining to myself why i chose these things and why they are beliefs or not. that’s how i realised that shifting is easy. when people talk about it “clicking” they weren’t lying!
shifting isn’t special, this is what the list thing tries to prove you. it’s not special because, just like breathing and eating and reading, we do it subconsciously everyday. take your own first language: you speak it naturally without having to doubt it, and if you know a second language well enough like i know english for instance (my mother-tongue is italian) then you can even start talking to yourself and think in that language without having to search up translations.
what’s the difference with shifting then?
the difference is that shifting hasn’t been taught to us in the same way as a language has been, all throughout school. the same thing goes for reading and writing: we read and write naturally because we’ve been taught how to when we were young and it’s now engraved in our brains, just like with learning our first language, which is something we normally do thanks to our teachers, our families and the people around us, of course. this doesn’t happen with shifting in most cases, as we all know, which means it’s normal for it to take a bit to grasp as a concept and existing thing/activity. it’s natural, most of us human beings just don’t know about it, nor that we’re capable of doing it.
this is why i said it’s not special: just like breathing, everybody can do it (and so do you)!
going back to the non-beliefs list; i should also add that as a society we usually are taught what to believe in from a young age, and specifically what is believed to be a fantasy, a dream, or something real. as grown-ups, though, we have the right to believe in whatever we want, like shifting. as a realistic person, i understand that some people may have a hard time believing something as great as shifting could be true, because it genuinely doesn’t sound like it! so yes, this is also a factor that can and does make it harder for someone to trust their guts and expect to wake up somewhere that’s only fictional here.
shifting clicks for everybody at different times, but i hope this post will help some of you here understand it better and know that what more experienced shifters say always has a meaning, you just need the time to properly reflect on it to get it!
when it clicked for me a few hours ago i felt a huge rush of adrenaline and happiness bc yes, i can actually shift. i’m just overcomplicating it for no reason and so many of you are doing the same!
it’s okay though, we’ll all get there <3
(psa: if you saw any grammar mistakes or anything NO YOU DIDN'T and also please don't mind if this rant doesn't sound logical, i tried my best to explain myself like i wanted to 🥲)
#lola’s thoughts ✮#shiftblr#shifting blog#shifting realities#shifting community#shifting IS easy#shifting motivation#shifting antis dni#reality shifting#shifting methods#desired reality
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
His time with Corey thus far had been so nice, and while this of course wasn’t a date - Copper didn’t do dates, not anymore - it was about as close as Copper got to one, and he missed that. Usually these days when he met a guy he wanted to spend alone time with, they just went to one of their houses (or occasionally one of their cars and - once - the alley behind Breaking Glass). There wasn’t usually this prelude. And honestly that wasn’t even what this was. Sure, Copper would not be mad at all if that was how the night went, but the main reason he’d asked Corey to do this was because he wanted to hang out with him more; Corey being so handsome was just a (very, very nice) bonus. And everything felt so natural between them, which amazed Copper given how recently they had met, but he didn’t question it; sometimes it was just like that when two people met for the first time. Copper had experienced that before, though he wouldn’t be thinking about that tonight (or ever if he could help it).
Touching Corey’s thigh in the car had been a bit of a risk, but it paid off - Copper could tell the way Corey responded to it, and warmth spread through him at that. “So what you’re saying is I’m magical then, is that it?” Copper asked with a cheeky grin, which was of course true, though he meant it in a different way now. “I promise, no spells were cast, unless you count my natural charisma.” Copper broke into laughter at that; clearly he didn’t really believe what he had said and was just joking. But it definitely felt like there was magic between them right now, no matter how clichéd that sounded. So the rest of the way to the costume shop, Copper had kept his hand on Corey’s thigh.
Being with Corey in the costume shop felt so easy and natural, a fact that continued to amaze Copper. And the sight of Corey in the Cupid costume was quite a treat; Copper didn’t try to hide his staring. “If I said yes, would you try on other skimpy costumes?” Copper asked the man. “Do I have that kind of power? Because I can find more.” He suddenly thought of Corey in a costume like what Copper himself planned to wear, where basically his entire torso was exposed save for some body paint and glitter, and, well…that was an image Copper wouldn’t soon get out of his head. “I can’t wait until you see mine,” he said to Corey. “I think you’ll really, really like it.” As he said this, Copper grinned at Corey, though he resisted the urge to wink at him.
As he waited for Corey’s response, Copper felt confident. He didn’t think he’d been imagining the serious heat between them, the way Corey reacted to all the ways Copper had found to touch him while helping him try on various costumes (most especially the Cupid one). But he was still pleased when Corey answered in the affirmative. So they headed to Copper’s place, his hand on Corey’s thigh once more. Every once in awhile, Copper would look over at his friend and smile, giving his thigh a little squeeze. Fuck, he loved touching Corey, and Copper longed to do more and more of it. "You know," Copper said as they drove, "you mentioned that the way I make you feel is magical. And I was wondering...how do I make you feel?" As he asked this, Copper looked over at Corey, grinning at him, and he gave his thigh another reassuring squeeze.
A few minutes later, they were at Copper’s house, and after parking his car in the garage, Copper got out and went over to Corey’s side, opening the door for him and holding out his hand. While it had been a genuine gesture, Copper couldn’t help but laugh, his hand lingering in Corey’s once the other man was out of the car. Copper rested his forehead against Corey’s shoulder as he laughed, and then he said, “That seemed kind of suave when I thought it, but I don’t think it came across that way.” Luckily Copper knew when to just laugh at himself, and this was one of those times. Even so, he kept hold of Corey’s hand, leading him into the garage door that led into the house proper. Right away, a black cat came rushing toward them, meowing a greeting, and Copper immediately beamed at him. “Hey handsome,” he greeted the cat, finally letting go of Corey’s hand to kneel down and pet the cat. “This is my friend, Corey.” The cat meowed in response, and Copper said, “Yeah, I know, he’d gorgeous.” After another meow, Copper added, “No, not as gorgeous as you, no one is. But he’s pretty close, don’t you think?” As he said this last part, Copper looked up at Corey and grinned, and Viktor meowed in agreement. Sitting fully on the floor now, Copper grabbed Corey’s hand and gently pulled him down as well. “This is Viktor,” he introduced to his friend.
Corey couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face when Copper mentioned how the clothes he’d chosen made him feel. The way Copper looked at him, so genuine and with that warmth behind his words, made him feel like he was something special, something worth noticing. Corey was so used to people treating him in a polar opposite fashion; it wasn't that he had had a lot of bad experiences in Cardinal Hill, but his experiences prior to finding himself there had shaped him into the insecure person that he was inside. They were experiences that he couldn't quite shake. He chuckled softly, feeling his heart do a little flip at the compliment. “Well, you’ve certainly got me beat. I’m just trying not to be a mess tonight," his fingers lightly brushed over his maroon sweater, as if he could somehow feel the weight of Copper’s gaze on him. It felt nice.
The moment Copper’s hand brushed against his thigh in the car, Corey felt a little jolt of energy shoot through him. The contact was so natural, so easy, that he couldn’t help but lean into it slightly, appreciating the warmth Copper’s touch provided. But the admission that Copper had been thinking about him too… that felt like something more. A little surge of nervous excitement bubbled up inside Corey, but he pushed it down, keeping his tone light. He glanced over at Copper, his grin wide. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I didn’t do anything magical," he joked, knowing confidently that he hadn't - not even believing himself capable of such magic, despite the existence of his powers. "But the way you make me feel? That's pretty magical, yeah," he nodded, mostly to himself.
When they got to the costume shop and Corey found himself laughing along with Copper’s playful suggestions, he didn’t want it to stop. The moment he stepped into that cupid costume, and Copper’s eyes lit up at him, his heart gave an involuntary thud. He wasn’t used to being looked at like that, but somehow, with Copper, it felt right. He rolled his eyes at the comment about the costume, but Copper’s genuine praise made him feel more at ease than he ever expected. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just wanted to see me in something skimpy,” Corey teased lightly, his own voice just a little bit breathless as he tried to push through his bashfully to make the jokes that he almost always did when confronted with other emotions - both good and bad, though he couldn't say that there was many bad feelings to be felt in that moment, with that company.
By the time they were leaving the store, Corey’s mind was buzzing with energy, but not the usual kind of anxious, wound-up energy he was familiar with. This was different, this felt… light. Fun. Free. As Copper invited him to his place, Corey paused for just a second, his heart doing a little flip again. God, Copper had a real effect on Corey's heart. It was tempting, more tempting than anything he’d felt in a long time. He thought about how easy it had been with Copper, how effortlessly they seemed to click. It wasn’t just the night out, it was something more, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this.
“Yeah,” Corey answered, his voice a little softer now, his smile more genuine. “I’d like that.” He glanced over at Copper, meeting his eyes. “I’m glad you had a good time, I definitely did.” As Copper’s hand found its way back to his thigh, Corey once again didn’t pull away. Instead, he let himself enjoy the warmth of the contact, the way it seemed to settle the nerves in his chest. Tonight felt like the beginning of something, something good, and maybe - just maybe - he was ready to see where it went.
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deadly combination of two ppl living together is one person who never wants to make their mental illness symptoms somebody else’s problem, even when they really should be making it somebody else’s problem bc they need help, and the other person is someone who will not stop making their mental illness symptoms everyone else’s problem regardless of the consequences
#y’all I’ve HAD IT lmao#trying to be helpful and maintain boundaries at the same#time is exhausting#this bitch doesn’t even knock on my bedroom door before she walks in tho so wtf am I saying about boundaries tbh#like also I’m still not over having been parentification by her as a child so it’s like#sorry mom I cannot shoulder your new emotional burden today. I do hope you feel better tho#she always gets upset that I’m not willing to listen to her problems#read: she will walk up and just start venting for 40 min without checking in or anything#and if I get upset about it I’m the bad guy#she’s like well shouldn’t our relationship be equal#which actually just means why am I not willing to be her sole source of emotional support which. jesus#but also. like no you’re my mom!!! it was never going to be 100% equal bc you’re the parent! in case you’ve forgotten!!#also she’s terrible at listening to me talk about my problems so???#but she says it’s bc I get offended too easily#which idk man she just says stupid shit when I’m upset and I get so overstimulated that it’s rlly easy for it to send me into a meltdown#I know I’m not easy to help sometimes like I get it!#I’m very aware#she just feels. so entitled to my time and space and energy and ALWAYS has. since I was a child.#but she seems to think shes p much OWED that bc she pays some of my expenses#idk man. I’m tired#vent#personal
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
so fucking funny that my dad (literally works with something that, supposedly, requires a good understanding of how ppl work) can’t help me move without having a mental break and yelling at me. whereas my mom who’s generally less social is able to get it done w me in a single day because she understands the basic concept of “if you are mad and mean at someone they will work less efficiently”
#but nooo the world is hard and mean and cold and i have to LEARN that.#anyways can you tell i’m glad i didn’t allow my dad to help me move out this year#sorry i just will never understand ppl who get mad when it would clearly just make the situation worse#and then they try to JUSTIFY it. like ok i understand it’s not always easy to control but like. don’t defend urself bestie#anger as an emotion. at least when it’s expressed in a genuinely mean spirited way. is so deeply unproductive#arambles#i think anger can be expressed in ways where it is actually important. but when your goal is clearly just to hurt the other person.#i think it’s genuinely idiotic sorry#like idk i’ll be mad at rama sometimes. becuase that’s what relationships are like. but i’d never want to HURT them#if i express anger it’s only to let them know they did somethign that upset me or whatever#sorry having lots of thoughts
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
ADHD stop making me easy to upset challenge: impossible
#spaghetti speaks#I’m so petty man#I forget I’m an adult sometimes#rejection sensitive dysphoria#executive dysfunction#injustice sensitivity#I realized why I get so upset when I feel things are unfair#that’s probably why I dislike people who don’t earn things and are just born into lucky circumstances#also probably why I hate taking things from people without giving back in some way#or playing favorites#I don’t know#I’m whiny#and it’s not like I can just vocalize these things to people that are causing upset because they’ll interpret it as pettiness#“why are you getting so worked up about this?” or “why do you even care?”#I don’t know why#I just feel things and hate that I can’t control it#I can’t help my temper is easy to set off because I just got the nice concoction of neurodivergent traits that make it prone to rage#I can try- I sure can try#I’m ranting#i’m ranting again#I will say my hatred of unfairness has made me try and check in with friends when I notice one is being quiet or ignored by others#so there is some sort of positivity I suppose#neurodiversity#neurodivergent#adhd#adhd problems#actually adhd#adhd brain#adhd things#neurodivergency
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
lowkey glad i got my wisdom teeth out now because im getting used to barely eating and i know once school starts im gonna have to start getting back in the rhythm of one meal a day because i don’t do lunch (vent in the tags mb)
#tw eating issues#i look thinner i think and i like that#im trying to keep up this eating pattern to get used to it when school starts#i’m learning how to keep my stomach from making noise which is good#it’s fucked up when i think about it but whatever#anyway i’ve been meaning to vent for a while about this#only thing im nervous about is having physics my third and second to last periods but ill figure it out#im trying to lose more weight#i think im doing good on my soup diet tbh#i’ll keep it going as long as i can#i hate how i feel after eating though#im considering learning how to water fast#i think that’ll help#anyway this git dark sorry#i’m fine im just in a bad headspace#i’ll be fine#ill stop when im satisfied#vent#i wanna go from small to extra small tbh#i wanna be thinner#i hate this#ive been dealing with it since i was twelve#whatever#tw ed#idk can u even call it an ed?#sometimes the only motivation i have is knowing if i keep eating im gonna look gross when i go out#i’ll be fine i’ll stop when i want#no one will even know it’ll be so easy#it makes me feel in control#like i’m in control here instead of the thoughts
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
what if… i said i might wanna try writing on discord… how would we feel
#not long term! but in the event that i don’t have it in me to be here#bc ngl sometimes tumblr doesn’t help my mental state :’ )#i just wanna have ways of still being able to write with some of my mutuals#and running a blog is a lot of work. trying to reach out and build interactions is a lot of work#and it’s fun work! but when i’m already feeling overwhelmed by my life outside of tumblr it can be a little much i think#i dunno i’m just thinking bc i don’t wanna feel disconnected from everyone i don’t wanna disappear for a few months like before#it’s very easy to just retreat into my bubble and keep to myself and leave people be but like :( i wanna keep bugging my friends on here :(#asdfgh i’m being silly but really i don’t wanna miss out on chatting with y’all and smushing our characters together#i worry about creating distance unintentionally bc i’m in a ‘rest’ period of my life#i’m rambling atp :’ ) but pls just know i care so much about y’all!! and i do miss y’all to bits!!#and just bc i’m not here doesn’t mean i’m not thinking about our dorks or cooking up new stuff to hit y’all with later hehe#but pls take care of yourselves pace yourselves be kind to yourselves#you deserve it i promise you do 💜#get ready to ramble | ooc
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Is my toxic trait psychoanalyzing other people and thinking I’m the exception because I’m actually soooo observant and aware of the signs
#I mean people just say Some Things that make me think they can’t not be dealing with self worth issues#like someone said they hate bugs bc what purpose do they serve other than to be annoying#so it’s fine to kill them or whatever#and I’m just like I wonder what that says about you 🤔#but guys I’ve ended up being right before#it’s also because of things they’ll just self admit sometimes though#like saying they feel like they’re not a helpful person or they’re feeling worthless#and then acting all confident#and trying to act like the high bitch in charge despite knowing nothing about what is going on#and I’m just like hey do you have imposter syndrome#and they’re like yeah#am I toxic for asking that#even if it’s based on Several Observations#some of which they openly admit unprompted themselves#someone was like how dare you analyze them without consent meanwhile#they’re spilling their own guts left and right already like#I’m just naming what I observed in behavior and giving it a label#genuinely is that toxic of me though lol#I mean it’s really easy to do with toxic people bc not toxic people like don’t have issues to psychoanalazye as much#like to me it’s like going hey not to armchair diagnose but maybe talk to your doctor about if you have ADHD#bc based off observations#you can fucking tell#I have never been wrong abt someone having adhd#bc paradoxically I realize I am not immune to being wrong about someone#I’m just very observant idk#the without their consent response is throwing me off#like I get offering unsolicited advice#but I think going you have imposter syndrome vs asking hey do you think you have imposter syndrome#are two very different things
4 notes
·
View notes