#or should it be Terror Space?
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*Distant sound of frantic running growing closer*
*I throw open the door with manic eyes, breathing heavily*
Hatsume Mei! The Fenton's! Oh DEAR LORD. The Couple, the Doctors Fenton... would think she's A Lovely Young Lady â˘! Normal even! Charming! I bet the Hatsume Adults would find to be a Charming And Upstanding Young Lad!
JAPAN ISNT READY.
If the GIW got out of hand? And Amity, as a town? Said "fuck ya'll we taken our ball and going home"? All they'd NEED to do? Is shut down the portal, get the skilled portal makers stationed at side A of town to open it up, rip the whole thing up, have the mover ghosts push it IN, aaaaaand? Everyone in? Good! We close it from the inside!
Fuck those guys.
Okay, so, I'm Jerry. You're real estate officer, we got some GREAT options for you this season! How do feel about ninjas? No? Pirates? Not feeling it? Superheroes? Seeing some interest! We got a- *continues their pitch as Amity is moved*
Amity get phased into the Japanese countryside.
What do you MEAN "there wasn't a town here?" Of course there way! We have roads and everything! Why are we all Americans? What're you a cop? Mind your business, spandex man.
.....yeah, they're gonna call this one a "Quirk accident".
Pay your taxes, folks, and we promise not to care!
Fenton's? Back in business, baby! Well, never STOPPED being in business. But details! They're now a "support company"! And yes! The quotation marks ARE on all their documents AND signs! They think it's stupid!
But you want lazers?
Oh ho hoooo~ DO WE HAVE LAZERS!!!
Maddie n Jack start hitting the scene. Conventions. Conferences. Fancy parties. Weirdly? They "unnerve" people. Cowards.
Until? Gasp? They meet just the LOVELIEST couple! Who are so FUN! Who ALSO has a daughter? Danny's age no less! Oh she is just PRECIOUS? Is that her first bomb? Aaaaaw~âĄ.
Danny feels a disturbance in the force.
Like... like his folks are... are about to try and introduce him to a Nice Young Girl again. The last time this happened was at mom's fighting competitions. She ended up being some sort of assassin royalty. Thankfully, she accepted he could commit to a life of murder, since he wanted to be an astronaut, but it was like this whole THING and- you know what? Not important!
Where are his parents!?
(Planning his wedding! Gotta incorporate BOTH the family's completely batshit Family Traditions!)
#dp x bnha#dp x mha#danny/mei#I'm calling them Terror Technologies#he's Technologies#or should it be Terror Space?#none the less?#be afraid#very very afraid#minji's writing
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I do, in fact, hold the Jewish community collectively responsible for Zionists.
Individually? Of course not. Anti Zionist Jews exist as individuals. Many individuals are shut out of their own religious community, especially those of colour.
But as a community where Zionism is so socially and institutionally entrenched that the minority of dissenters are disowned and ostracized?
The global community of which only a handful of organisations openly advocate for Palestine, and even most of those paternalistic and co-opting Palestnian voices with liberal Zionist sympathies?
The western majority that institutionally benefits from white colonization and imperialism and silences its non-Jewish Black and brown critics?
The same majority that will never own their privilege or culpability or complicity in the colonial project before and after the Holocaust?
That helped the West exceptionalize it to cover up their exponentially larger and more enduring colonial crimes?
That distanced themselves from their white colonial privilege at the expense of BIPOC by insisting theirs was not a religious marginalization but a racial one, and continues to punish us for not treating them as racially oppressed?
Whose very demand to be automatically exonerated from the Palestinian genocide is reflective of their white and Western privilege?
That successfully broke the ties Jews of colour have to their own racial communities through Israeli ethnic cleansing and Zionist propaganda?
That uses JoC as shields, tokens and weapons against all the above charges?
The JoC that have purchased the privileges of Zionism and enfranchised themselves by betraying their own races?
The community that has used the charge of antisemitism to police Black and brown folks for decades, making it a knife against our necks?
I absolutely, 100% blame the global Jewish community.
The Global South will not forget. We will not forgive. All people with white skinned European descent are our oppressors. All people nourished on the teat of the imperial core are the foot soldiers of white supremacy, no matter what their race. We owe you no exoneration.
#this post is brought to you by the fucking bullshit going on at the holocaust museum today#i'm never going to give a shit about that after this. nothing to do with us#how tf do you terrorize black and brown people into recognizing your victimhood and not realize you arent the victim here if you can do tha#i am 1000% done with this colonizer bullshit#no wonder black intellectuals have been calling out white jews for decades#'antisemitism' only matters when it affects white jews lmao. JoC have to deal with it on their own#i trust JoC even less than white Jews after this because holy shit the zionist bootlicking#they aren't gonna fuck you bro#if you arent going to divest from white colonialism please get your asses the fuck out of our spaces#you should be expiring with shame and pain for what your people are doing#instead you're whinging because someone tagged Free Palestine on your wall after a 115 days of butchering babies#fuck you#knee of huss#anti zionist#zionazis#free palestine#racism#anti blackness#white supremacy#colonialism#western imperialism
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David Walmsley in Of Kings and Prophets
#David walmsley#of kings and prophets#they really should have swapped the character actors#not just because more action but like#also dimples visible from outer space#im watching this and thinking they had some decent cast but the script noooooo#also remember reading a hilarious review of someone who didnt understand what they were saying because British accents hehe#the terror cast#the terror actors#my stuff#my edits
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HGSS YOU CAN'T HIDE, WE CHARGE YOU WITH GENOCIDE: The Harry Get Some Sleep Discord Server Is Run By Zionists and Pro-Genociders and Should Implode
For anyone who has found this account either through the Rigel Black Chronicles fanfic or have come across these quotes through your casual perusal of this website and then found the fic and/or made your way over to the Harry Get Some Sleep (HGGS) discord server...
I want to address a few things:
Those of you not living under a rock the last 10 months or so will know about the genocide happening in Palestine at the hands of Nazi Zionist Israelis and their supporters. This is not contested, but fact. I'm not here to debate this.
The HGSS server, a server where discussions of politics and world events happens frequently, decided to ban all talk of the "Israel-Palestine Conflict" back in October. The mods claimed to be unable to educate themselves thoroughly on the topic because they were "busy" and had lives outside of this serverâsomething they could not claim for many other discussions that took place over the last few years.
This whole escalation happened after a server member and her friend both made Islamophobic remarks over a completely different subject, but which did end up crossing over into the discussion on what was happening in Gaza (which involved quite a few members, notably some who were outspoken Zionists). Obviously, the Islamophobia and racism was never fully addressed by the mods and no members were banned from the server, despite refusing to acknowledge what they did. Announcements and updates on this took forever from the mods, and it was decided that everyone would start off with a fresh slate (*rolls eyes* whatever that means). I left the server briefly during all of this because of the Islamophobia that I have had to deal with for years since being in HGSS and because of the outright genocide denial and pro-Israel/Zionist rhetoric.
I came back to HGSS because in part I missed some aspects of it and the good people I got to interact with. But I also came back because I wanted to make every single Zionist in that server uncomfortable.
The blatant Palestinian censorship by the mods and the refusal to let us discuss a genocide happening live before our eyes made me angry. I was livid. As one should be when a genocide is occurring. When I first left, I felt a little bad about how I had handled things, until I listened to a Palestinian talk about how she didn't want to be a calm, collected, "peaceful" Muslim that everyone expects you to be in order for you to be taken seriously. These times we are living in, don't call for peace and sweet words, but justice. Justice by whatever means possible. We have every reason to be angry with our voices, our chests, our eyes, and our words. And it isn't up to us to educate people who don't want to be educated and who are more upset about our anger than they are about the people being murdered by Israel and all of their supporters.
So I came back, and hung around, and things got worse and worse. How many massacres have happened in just the last few weeks, let alone couple months? You lose track of time. Every day, I would open social media and see the same things: dead bodies, people still alive while they bled out, amputated limbs on full display, headless babies, bags of flour covered in blood, starvation, bombing of hospitals, bombing of schools, people trapped under the rubble unable to be buried, dogs eating dead bodies on the street, Zionist Nazi terrorists posting pics of themselves in lingerie and laughing while bombing and destroying houses, Zionist Nazis parading half-naked Palestinian men who they've kidnapped for no reason, and hearing accounts of torture and rape. The list goes on and on and on.
I also watched as every Zionist lie fell apartâeven though we knew they were liars from the start. But nothing changed. No apologies by the mods for letting server members call us rape deniers and accuse us of supporting "terrorist media sources" like Al Jazeera while NYT and BBC lied through their teeth about accusations of rape and beheaded babies. (Of course the western media sources are superior because they're unbiased and not funded by terrorism, said the usual racist, Islamophobic discord member who we all know by name for being the most problematic individual to exist in all of HGSS server history).
So me and a friend of mine began to silently protest using our nicknames in the server. And we eventually got banned thanks to a bunch of Zionist Nazis in the server who were more upset about the truth of their and Israel's actions than they were about Israel using their religion to justify a genocide. It's honestly such a classic Zionist thing to do, it would be almost funny if we weren't watching a genocide through our phones.
The warnings we got were vague and were from one mod who clearly agreed with our opinions, but was unable to say so publicly in the server. Instead we watched as Zionists accused us of the usual charges of antisemitism and denial of history. This frustration crossed onto Twitter of course because we were not allowed to discuss anything Palestine related in the server.
I stand by everything I said and did and do not apologize for any of it. Trying to argue with Zionists is like trying to talk to a brick wall. No matter how many times you tell them that you have an issue with Zionism and not Judaism, they will just refuse to hear you and conflate the two anyway. They hate any comparisons to other ethnonationalist movements like the Nazi Party or accusations of being complicit in genocide because they believe since they've experienced genocide they are somehow immune to committing genocide on others.
We were never given an explicit list of what we could or could not say, before the HGSS mods blocked us from posting on the server. So we tried to find ways around it as you do when you're being censored and surrounded by a bunch of fascist cops. I used Zio as a short form multiple times to get around the ban of using the word Zionist, a word that I was not aware was a slur since I do not believe Zionism is in any way associated with Judaism or Jews, and was never told by any mod that it was considered a slur. Less than 24 hours after not being able to post unless I found unique nicknames to continue my protest, me and my friend were both kicked out of the server. I did not receive a message or explanation of why I was being kicked out because I had blocked Rime, the main mod in the server I was told was making most of the shots and was clearly supporting the zionists in her goal to make the server "apolitical" (of note: the server is still allowed to talk about politics just not Palestine). Having zero access to the server and the conversations taking place, I had no idea Zio was a slur until I was told by a mutual who was still in the server. I stopped using the word after stating again for the hundredth time that I don't associate Zionism with Judaism and don't see a problem with a slur against Zionists (which of course was not taken well since Zionists are almost begging their war crimes to be associated with Judaism). However, the HGSS mods will have you believe that I did know this was a slur and did this on purpose in order to justify my permanent ban from the server. A server I wouldn't even want to be in, even if they begged me to return. The back and forth between me and one of the mods was later used as proof of my permanent banning from the serverâexcept conveniently, my responses were censored as a way to hide any evidence of the mods duplicity and villainize me further.
Their purposeful misinterpretation of everything I have said and done proves their intent clearly. They did this with the pure intention of shutting down pro-Palestinians in the server and to make this server a "safer place" for Zionist Nazi terrorists. You would think after 10 months, the mods would know better, but they have clearly learned nothing and have only proven to many of us that this server has been headed in a downward spiral for years.
Just a few days ago we watched Congress give multiple standing ovations to the Hitler of our time as he spouted lies and propaganda that has been debunked by multiple news sources (including your American ones). We watched as your new fav Kamala Harris called protestors antisemitic and anti-American, lied to our faces that she wants a ceasefire while also supporting the genocidal, apartheid, illegal, colonial state of Israhell the right to defend itself which is illegal according to international law. And we saw as the White House made baseless claims that protestors are somehow funded by Iran to manufacture consent for more war and innocent bloodshed. This is the world we live in. And to have the audacity to try and make a Harry Potter discord server "apolitical" during the times we are living in right now is downright hypocriticalâespecially since all other discussions of politics is allowed in the server. While maybe not all the mods in the server are pro-Zionist and pro-genocide, their statement given in unison creates an environment that welcomes Zionists into this space. Zionists. Should. Not. Feel. Welcome. In. Any. Space.
HGSS is not a safe place if you are anti-zionist, anti-fascist, anti-genocide, and anti-Israel. It has not been a safe space for Muslims, disabled and neurodivergent individuals, or any marginalized communities. So if you find this tumblr account or the associating Twitter account and love the fic, but want to join the discord server, I would advise against it if you're looking for a place that will value and respect you and the people you love and hold close to your heart. It is not worth your time or your energy.
(Unless of course you want to join just to wreak havoc in the server, that I can 100% support)
If you're currently in the server, maybe take some time to consider the people you surround yourself with and whether they agree with your values and ideals. We're not just living through history, We ARE HISTORY. This is an open book test and many of you are failing it. And those of you who aren't, there are smaller ways to protest than going to DC and setting Isnotreal flags on fire (something we should do if we can, but I know is not accessible for everyone). You can make a small impact, even if it's in some niche discord server that barely anyone has heard of.
Let the HGSS server devolve into the chaos it deserves. Many of us knew where things were headed years ago, and the time has finally come to let HGSS implode from the inside out. And hopefully take the Zionists with it.
#rigel black chronicles#murkybluematter#incorrect rigel black#rigel black#the pureblood pretense#incorrect quotes#overheard at hogwarts#harry get some sleep#discord server#israel is a terrorist state#isreal is committing genocide#israel is an apartheid state#israel is a war criminal#israel is an illegal occupier#fuck netanyahu#arrest netanyahu#anti zionisim#anti israel#zionsim is terrorism#zionism is fascism#zionists should choke#make every space unsafe for zionists#zionists are nazi terrorists#israelis are terrorists#israelis are war criminals#resistance is not terrorism#palestine will be free#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#free gaza#gaza genocide
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one thing about me is that it fills me with childlike glee to disillusion people about NASA and space exploration as a whole
#racist corrupt ass leg government that is touted as something glittering and innocent and then used to justify global terrorism đĽ°#i mean this with so much sincerity. 21st space exploration cannot exist without mass gov-funded terrorism in the global south#which means it should not exist#i said what i said#also NASA leave Polynesian people the fuck alone challenge [impossible edition]
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Since I'm currently binging it, You've seen Once Upon a Time, right?
(For that ask game)
yes I have!!! and my god... it's been so long... I only really watched the first couple of seasons (it kinda got too soapy for me after that) but yeah like my god... the way that series started so much for me (including the stargate connection)
Favourite character: Rumple. Always has and always will be Funniest character: Also Rumple that fucking guy made me giggle like hell I love a great trickster dude and he fucking fits the bill for me Best-looking character: Christ it's such a toss up between snow and charming. they were so hot like what the fuck 3 favourite ships: Rumbelle, snow x charming and Least favourite character: whoever the fuck they got to play the wicked witch like that shit just got silly. Also RIP Baelfire like mf just can't catch a break not playing a major asshole in anything Least favourite ship: Any of the Swan ships honestly like I can't be fucked. Reason why I watch it: Robert Carlyle put his whole pussy into Rumple and I respect him for his work so yeah. rumbelle was also really sweet for the first few seasons like what the fuck that took me by surprise. I'm just a Robert Carlyle enjoyer in general and he's literally what got me into stargate. Why I started watching it: One of my friends in high school recommended it to me and I was forever changed. It set off the chain reaction that led me to stargate tbh so there u have it
#we should watch SGU on stream I think we'd all enjoy that#there's some danny episodes in there and some o'neill. not so much carter bc she's flying a space ship but there u have it#it's not as silly but it's kinda silly honestly (like if you can find the silly in The Terror you can find it in SGU easy)#...oh my god. oh no.#sgu x the terror crossover would be goddamn beautiful#anyway I digress yes this should explain so much about me I've always been into silly little dilfs
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The thing that sucks most about this is that those who are accused of being annoying and needy and desperate are likely the ones who were deprived of those massive necessities of the soul and the knowledge of being perceived this way is typically seen as unwanted too.
It makes a person lack confidence, it makes them as a social drain who is concerned about being too much, too loud, too annoying. It dampens their ability to shine and the act of apologizing for whatever light they give off, as they have been trained to expect punishment for being perceived, makes it harder for others to give them what they need.
It's a horrible vicious cycle that causes the attention starved person to blame themselves for the fact that they are supposedly unwanted/unloveable and worse, it causes them to flinch at receiving the very thing they need.
its kinda weird that humans, a social species, view âattention-seekingâ as a negative trait
#camden posting#watch me post my trauma in public#bpd#even after transition and bettering our circumstances we are like this#I am like this#there are a lot of reasons I am the way I am#act the way I act#and some days (today among them) I feel like I am taking up space#that I am undeserving#that I should just disappear#the hard part is recognizing that this is not true#and is no one's job to fix but my own#legitimately and truly this is why I need a bombastic and arrogant Fae mode#the part that can turn off those terrors#the part that knows without doubt that we are amazing and worthy of spotlight#since integration and therapy I only get this way when she's 'sleeping'#I know I'll feel better when she's back online#I *know* this#doesn't make it harder to handle when I can't feel her#god I have no idea why the fuck I'm typing this#I'm just tired#I'm just so fucking tired
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Yandere! House Monster x Reader
Listen, I woke up in cold sweat at 4am with a vision: you and your stereotypically unavailable gamer boyfriend have moved into a new house. You find out very soon it's not as empty as you had assumed, but your worries fall on deaf ears. The tentacle monster lurking in dark corners just wants to make sure you're not lonely.
[Second Part]
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance (mildly NSFW)
You didn't notice anything strange at first. Maybe it was considering its prey. You'd found a cheap, old house available for rent, and your boyfriend couldn't refuse the extra space for his mancave.
Oh, you poor thing. It watched your lonely evenings, your empty bed at night, your futile attempts to spend more time with your beloved partner. It had originally planned to devour your souls and await the next foolish mortals to enter its realm, but seeing your pitiful state prompted a change of heart. Metaphorical heart, of course.
It started gradually: testing the waters, or what you'd call a courting attempt. Doors opening by themselves, disembodied eyes lovingly gazing at you from the nearby walls. Dark tendrils making their way out of the shadows, just to announce its presence.
"I think this place might be cursed", you told your boyfriend one evening. "I've been stalked by amorphous silhouettes of blight and terror, and they whisper ancient blasphemies to me at night." He let out a worried shout and slapped the desk. "That's cool, babe. I'm kind of losing right now, though, so perhaps give me a minute?"
One night you were awakened from your slumber by a warm touch sliding across your body. You smiled into your pillow as the cheeky hands made their way down, fondling your curves and hungrily searching for your sensitive areas. You let out a soft moan, enjoying the moment, until you heard your boyfriend yell from the other room. Your eyes shot open.
The hands lewdly groping your privates were, in fact, tentacles. Your first reaction was to gasp, but you were quickly silenced by another slippery appendage pressing against your lips. Shh, shh. Allow the creature to do its thing, dear. Surely enough, within minutes you were a drooling mess, holding onto the sheets for dear life.
"You've been in a good mood lately", you boyfriend remarks, idly scrolling on his phone and crunching on his breakfast cereal. You ponder if you should tell him you've been fucked relentlessly by a monstrous creature inhabiting your new home. You glance at the counter and smirk, remembering how you just had to wipe your wet mess from it a few hours ago. "Keep it that way, hun, I could get used to not being pestered every hour", the man jokes with a laugh.
Does it count as cheating if your affair partner isn't really human? Although, you have to wonder if you're still dating to begin with. From the corner of your eye, you can discern faint movement above the young man, a shadow looming menacingly. The eldritch monster would not hesitate to tear your poor boyfriend apart if he tried to mess with its belonging.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#monster x reader#monster x human#monster boyfriend#tentacle monster#monster smut#terato#teratophillia#monster fucker
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I â¤ď¸ MILFS - Max Verstappen
Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasnât too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. Iâm gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)
Masterlist | Support Me! | I â¤ď¸ MILFS verse
Max remembers the announcement of Oscarâs arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.
Max doesnât remember much of Loganâs announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadnât wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.
He wishes now that he had paid more attention.
Thereâs a woman standing in the Williamâs garage, on Loganâs side. Sheâs clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Loganâs movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.
She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.
â
She canât help but clutch at Bennyâs arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.
Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. âAnd just think youâve got over twenty more races of this.â Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart thatâs thudding. âPlease, Benny.â He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. âYouâve got this.â âNot gonna tell me it gets easier?â He snorts. âNo. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. Weâll never know a day of peace now.â
She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. âHeâs going to be sore and in pain.â It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didnât make it any easier for her to know. âIâve already got everything set up as soon as heâs back and debriefs are done.â
Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. âTwelfth in his first grand prix. I canât believe it.â
The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they donât even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didnât like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didnât want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.
A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.
Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.
She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back heâs getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.
A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. âProud of you, kid.â He murmurs. She canât hear what Logan says, but heâs put down and itâs her turn.
She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesnât want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. âYou did amazing, baby.â He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then heâs wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and sheâs quick to return it, rubbing his back. âYou did so good, Logan. So good. Iâm so proud.â She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. âThank you, momma.â He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasnât sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. âGo shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And Iâll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.â He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. âBest mom ever!â He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.
â
Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.
Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.
She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.
And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his  wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.
â
Sheâs twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt donât like Logan much. It didnât make sense to her then, still doesnât now. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.
She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didnât love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.
Itâs the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and itâs fitting that itâs about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.
â
She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.
Itâs her fourteenth birthday and sheâs got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Loganâs eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.
She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.
Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. âCâmon Logan, time for bed.â He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. âYou can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.â He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. âStay with you.â âOh, baby.â She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. âYâknow Iâll stay with you until you fall asleep.â His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. âWant cuddles, momma.â Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. âOkay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.â
â
Sheâs only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.
âI want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.â He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. âHeâs,â She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. âHe wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And heâs good at it. Iâve taken him. They told him no. They havenât bought him clothes in two years. They donât know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasnât called David dad since he was six and he hasnât called Madelyn mom since he was four.â Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. âI have money, I can provide for him. Iâve got my shares of the company now and Iâve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge wonât sign off without some influence.â âMadelyn and Daniel?â She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. âI already talked to them, theyâll do it.â One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and heâs pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.
âI figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.â Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. âThank you. Thank you so much.â He smiles at her. âI couldnât say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. Iâm way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one thatâs eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.â âThank you.â
â
Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Loganâs trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly sheâs there and heâs scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.
His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.
Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.
Fuck.
â
âMomma Panther!â Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.
Landoâs eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.
Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. âThank you for the invite, Os.â âOf course.â He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. âYâknow Logan and you are always welcome.â She makes a humming noise. âCâmon, let me introduce you to everyone.â
Turning around, he smirks at the table. âEveryone, Logan.â Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, âThis is Momma Panther or Pan.â âY/N or Pan.â She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. âI only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.â He sighs. âOkay, this is Y/N. Loganâs mom.â
Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernandoâs eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.
âShe,â Carlos points at her. âIs his,â he points at Logan. âMother?â Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. âI got pretty lucky right?â She shakes her head. âIâm just happy you werenât a difficult child.â Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.
âPlease, sit.â George says after a moment. âWe havenât ordered yet.â
The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.
It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.
The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.
The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. âHave you been here before?â She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. âNo. To Australia of course, for Loganâs races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.â He nods and she canât help but notice the way he swallows harshly. âWe started coming here in 2021, itâs good food. Good drinks.â She laughs, âgood gin and tonic?â He flushes a little, but laughs. âYes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.â She nods, âI think Iâll have one of those then.â
Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.
âMomma, can we,â âYes.â She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what heâs asking. âAlso you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.â She continues, still looking at the menu.
They wouldnât get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didnât mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.
Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. âThey have it.â Oscar glances at what heâs pointing at, shaking his head. âYou and your goddamn obsession.â âWe come here like once a year.â Logan defends. âAnd no other country sells it.â
Itâs not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.
âSo, Mrs. Sargeant,â Lando starts. âJust Y/N or even Pan.â She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. âAnd Iâm not married.â She says, amused. âAh.â âNot married.â Fernando shakes his head. âNow that doesnât sound right.â She looks at him amused. âDonât believe in premarital sex?â She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. âNo. Just hard to believe that you arenât married. You are a very gorgeous woman.â âThank you.â
âSo,â Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. âWill you be coming to all the races?â She nods. âYes, I have since Logan started his career. Havenât missed one.â Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. âNope, not one.â âYour work allows you to do that?â Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. âI have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.â âYou do some work for Grandpa when weâre in the states.â âI organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.â
âYou do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.â Charles asks, curious. âNo. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that Iâd make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, Iâll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.â âManager?â âGod, no.â She shakes her head at Carlosâ assumption. âCook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesnât know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.â âMine as well.â Alex pipes in. âTheyâre truly amazing, by the way.â âOf course.â âCan you make mine again?â Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. âIâve missed having them.â âSure.â She laughs. âGet me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?â âDone.â
â
Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what theyâd feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.
âVery heavy on the gin.â She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. âDo you like it?â âItâs nice.â She smiles. Relief fills him. âGood.â
He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he canât believe that sheâs a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didnât seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernandoâs age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?
â
Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscarâs bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.
âDinner was nice.â Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. âYou seemed a bit more relaxed.â âNo media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.â Logan scoffs. âYeah, because you were so tense with media before.â As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscarâs thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. âItâs nuts, isnât it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, butâŚâ He trails off, shaking his head. âYeah.â Oscar sighs and then heâs laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the otherâs thigh before he lies on it.
âYâknow I have no personality, apparently.â Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadnât even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so theyâre looking at each other. âWhat? Have they never seen a Prema video?â He shrugs as best as he can. âIâd take that over my apparent frat boyness.â âYou? A frat boy?â Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. âI just hope momma hasnât seen it.â âWhat happened?â âSheâs just worried. Thinks I havenât noticed, but sheâs wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And sheâs given me everything yâknow. I canât imagine what Iâd be like with them as my parents.â Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. âYouâd still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.â The American rolls his eyes, but heâs smiling.
âI think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.â He clarifies. âWhat?â âI mean, just during the dinner yâknow, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.â âWell, heâd be dumb and blind to not notice that.â Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. âIâm being serious.â The younger laughs, poking him lightly. âI think Alonso has a thing for her.â Loganâs face scrunches up in disgust. âDude, no. Thatâs gross. Momma isnât even thirty and Fernandoâs like forty-three. And isnât he dating that journalist?â Oscarâs brows press together. âWhat journalist?â âThe one that gave Fred shit.â âI thought she died?â The two look at each other, both baffled.
Logan thinks again of the journalist heâs seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernandoâs journalist slash girlfriend didnât have a fucking complex.
âDifferent journo.â Logan mutters. He then blinks, âwait, she died?â âMate, you didnât hear about that?â âNo!â âShe was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasnât there. She died, car crash or something, I canât remember.â âHow do I not remember this?â Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. âI donât know.â
Itâs silent for a moment, âyou donât think,â âNo.â Oscar shakes his head, but he doesnât sound too sure. âI mean, yeah no.â âRight.â He looks up at the ceiling.
âOkay, so Fernando is out of the running.â Logan groans, âOs, no.â âLook he clearly has eyes, but if heâs dating someone heâs out. He wasnât the only one looking.â âOscar, please, itâs my mom.â âSheâs like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.â Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscarâs face, all earnest and caring and sighs. âFine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.â âLando was looking.â Logan snorts, âI thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.â He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. âOkay, no Lando. Max.â âHe kind of looked weird when you introduced her.â He frowns. âI saw that too.â âBut he also got all blushy when they talked.â
âThe drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didnât like birth you, right?â Loganâs frown deepens. âOf course. I mean, itâs not super well known, but itâs a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.â âThought so.â Oscar then chuckles. âImagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking sheâs got some sort of insane skin care routine.â
â
âHow in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?â âI know right?â Alex says, looking at Carlos. âItâs insane.â Charles pokes at his own cheek. âI think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.â âWe all want to age like her.â George agrees. âWhat are you saying?â Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. âMate, youâve got wrinkles and all these lines.â Max says. âI mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.â Fernando frowns, âLines?â Charles touches at his own lines, âsee lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,â his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. âYou just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.â The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.
â
Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesnât want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she canât. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.
Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan wonât fall back out of the points.
She doesnât even notice that heâs lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly heâs overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. âOh my god.â âFuck.â âBenny,â she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. âBenny, I think,â âHeâs gonna do it.â
And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.
âYes!â The whole garage is cheering and sheâs wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. âHe did it! He did it!â She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.
âLogan, you are on your cooldown lap.â âGot it. Whereâs Alex?â She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Bennyâs shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didnât get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. âAlex is P14, P14.â Itâs quiet for a moment. âOkay, Iâm sorry we didnât get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.â Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. âLogan.â Gaetanâs voice is full of disbelief and laughter. âMate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.â She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. âWhat? What do you mean?â âYou finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.â âHoly fuck.â The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. âYou guys,â his voice breaks. âThank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.â She watches as James hops on the radio. âThis was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.â âThank you, James. Thank you so much for this.â
His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. Heâs a little shaky as he gets out of the car and heâs about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.
His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as itâs written down, heâs stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.
Thereâs an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.
His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.
Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.
âIâm so proud of you.â She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. âYou did amazing.â âI did it, momma.â His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. âYou did it.â
â
âLogan did amazing, it was a good drive.â She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. âMax?â He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. âHe did really well.â âHe did.â She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. âI didnât realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.â Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. âI think Aston is here as well. You arenât celebrating with Logan?â She shakes her head. âWe already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasnât really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,â she gestures to the hotel bar, âis me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.â âCould I join you?â His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. âNot like that. But for food? Iâve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasnât catering.â She stares at him for a moment before nodding. âYeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.â
â
âDid I actually score points yesterday?â âYou did.â âSweet.â âVery. Howâs the head?â Logan shrugs, âI mean, I drank a lot, but like Iâm just dehydrated.â She shakes her head, âThat will change in a few years.â âNot gonna tell me to not drink underage?â He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. âWeâre in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I donât think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.â âTrue.â
He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. âHow was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldnât of minded.â âIâm your mom, Logan.â She laughs. âI think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.â âYeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.â âI know.â She smiles. âI wasnât in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.â âFair.â he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.
âSo, how was your night?â âIt was good.â She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. âI came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.â His brows press together. âMax?â âVerstappen.â She clarifies. âRed Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.â
âYou went on a date?â Her eyes narrow at him. âIt wasn't a date.â âYou went on a date.â He scrambles for his phone. âOscar is never gonna believe it.â âI go on dates.â âMomma, youâve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.â She scowls at him. âIt wasnât a date. We just got dinner.â She insists. âUh huh.â He says, clearly not believing her. âDid he pay?â âYes.â âPull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?â Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. âYeah, but that doesnât mean,â Logan continues. âDid he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and heâd like to do it again?â âOh.â Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. âYou went on a date last night.â âI went on a date last night.â And she doesnât mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.
â
âLogan!â He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. âMax.â He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. âHey.â Max grins. âHow are you feeling about the track?â He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. âThe car wonât be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so weâre hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.â He reiterates what he's been told and what heâs been telling the press. âBut how are you feeling about it?â Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isnât anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. Itâs just him and Max. âYâknow you donât have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.â He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. âI know, I donât have to.â Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, âright.â Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. âItâs a tricky track, itâs Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.â âP10 and P9.â He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. âThe car isnât suited for it. I mean it wasnât for Miami, but this is different. And Iâm still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, Iâd get called in to pit and lose them.â Max huffs out a laugh. âYou are a rookie in a Williams, itâs impressive that youâve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well Iâd put you in Checoâs seat.â âNot yours?â He laughs again, âNo. Iâm a bit better at it than Checo.â Logan couldnât really deny that.
âDo you want some advice? On the tyres?â Logan quickly nods. âIâll take anything I can get.â âDonât fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you donât, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like youâll go into the wall, but you wonât.â âAnd if I go into the wall?â Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. âI think you're a better driver than that mate.â
â
âHow are you doing that in the turns?â Logan looks up from his notebook, where heâd been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. âJust something I thought Iâd try.â âWell, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.â Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. âWill do.â
â
Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both donât care about.
He hadnât expected lunch, with juice that heâs trying to figure out how heâs never had it when heâs lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.
âI like you, Max.â He flushes, âI like you too.â He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. âAnd I want to continue doing this.â She gestures between them with her free hand that isnât being held in his. âSo,â sensing that thereâs something she wants to say. âIâm a mom.â He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought heâd made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Loganâs number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. âI know.â âLogan is important to me.â Oh, god, did Logan not like him? âThe most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. Heâs always going to be my first priority.â âOf course.â Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. âI wouldnât expect anything less.â She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful heâs being before nodding. âOkay.â
âDid you think that I didnât know that?â She shakes her head immediately. âNo, itâs just. I donât really do this.â She laughs. âDating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I donât really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.â âI donât really do this either.â He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. âLoganâs father. What was your relationship with him like?â Her face screws up in disgust. âEw.â He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.
âI mean the idea of a relationship between me and Loganâs father is gross. Loganâs,â she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. âBirth parents are my aunt and uncle.â âHis what?â He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldnât be right. âHis birth parents.â She looks at him, concerned. âI adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?â âNo.â He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. âOf course not.â She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. âI may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.â She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. âYou thought?â âThe graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.â He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. âI am his mother, just adopted.â âNot that either of you see it that way.â âNo.â She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.
âNo. Loganâs mine, heâs been mine practically since he was born. It just wasnât seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.â âOf course.â He then flashes her smile, âSo can I ask how old you are?â She laughs, nodding. âYes, Max. I think just this once itâs better to ask a lady her age than assume it.â âHow old are you?â âIâm twenty-nine.â He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. âI wouldâve said twenty-five.â âReally? I think you wouldâve said forty-something.â âHow was I to know?â He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.
â
âHi, baby.â She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. âMomma.â He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.
She hated that her body didnât bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadnât actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.
He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. âWhat?â âHow was your date last night?â Her smile widens. âIt was good.â âYeah?â She nods. âDid you see Jimmy and Sassy?â âNo.â She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that heâs thinking of Sooty. âWe should talk though after youâve had some breakfast.â âAbout what?â âBreakfast first.â
âWhat do we need to talk about?â Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. âMax.â âWhat about Max?â She sighs. âWell, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But thatâs not gonna happen until I know how you feel.â âYou know, Iâm okay with it.â âI know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and weâre talking about a relationship.â Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. âI mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?â
He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like sheâs the sun, he makes her happy and thatâs enough to put him in Loganâs good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little heâs seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasnât even like she wasnât happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if itâs just for a second to say a quick hi.
âMax is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and thatâs never going to change.â Logan flushes at the words. âHe also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.â She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. âReally?â âYeah.â She smiles. âHe always asks about you, itâs really sweet. And he knows to that if you arenât comfortable with this or need more time then thatâs what will happen.â âI am an adult.â âYou are.â She was sadly well aware of that fact. âBut you are my baby, my kid. I couldnât be in a relationship with someone if you didnât like them or if it made you uncomfortable.â He nods. âIâm okay with it. Max makes you happy, heâs nice.â âYeah?â âYeah.â
â
She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. âHi.â âHi.â Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. âCan I help?â She glances down at what sheâs finishing up. âNo. You could set the table, though?â âDone.â A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. âWhat cabinet?â âFirst one entering the kitchen on the left.â She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.
Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. âPerfectly done.â She mumbles with a smile.
The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. âAm I late?â âJust on time.â She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. âCan I,â She stops him before he can continue. âNo, go wash up.â âAlright.â He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. âHi.â âHi, Logan.â
Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. âLogan and you are both going to get on too well.â âWhyâs that?â He asks, a twinkle in his eye. âYou both donât like when I lift anything.â âWhatâs the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?â Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. âExactly. We feel a bit neglected.â She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.
â
Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.
âMom, it would be for two races, two, thatâs it.â âOne race, really.â Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. âSpa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.â âSee, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.â Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. âI never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. Sheâs part of your team.â Logan looks at him, bewildered. âBut, itâs your home race.â He shrugs. âIâd like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesnât make any sense. I donât need her on my side of the garage to know that sheâs supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.â âAre you sure?â Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Loganâs garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. âIâm more than sure.â
âBesides,â she says, drawing both of their attention. âMax and I havenât gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.â
â
âWell, this is a bit of an odd one.â Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what sheâs looking at. âBoth Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.â âShall I see if I can steal one of them away?â Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. âPlease.â She gestures.
Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. âCould I steal one of you for a quick minute?â The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. âSure.â âThank you.â
He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommyâs boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldnât imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.
Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldnât look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.
âHi everyone.â Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. âHello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?â He smiles at Laura. âIâm feeling okay, Iâve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.â âAnd you and your mumâs visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?â She teases. âNo.â He laughs. âNo, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.â âI mean, Iâm not sure, he needs it.â Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. âSo, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.â âYeah,â he pauses, looking back at the garage where itâs just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. Itâs only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. âAnd I wasnât just wishing a fellow driver good luck.â âOh?â Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. âI was wishing my new dad good luck.â
â
âCarlos Sainz is a cunt.â Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. âHi, schat.â âCarlos Sainz is a cunt.â She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. âAnd why is Carlos a cunt?â He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.
Sheâs on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.
âThat bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscarâs inexperience.â She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. âIt was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.â âOscarâs okay?â He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. âHeâs good. He knows that it's a racing incident.â Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasnât his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldnât watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. âCan I help?â She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. âNo.â She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. âHi. Congrats on the win.â âThank you.â He bends to kiss her. âYou okay?â âYeah, just,â she waves her hand at her laptop, âstuff.â âAnything I can help with?â She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. âActually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.â âOf course. Whatâs going on?â
Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. âWhy would a team not resign a driver?â His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. âNot performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.â âThe driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.â Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. âAnd the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.â âThey have to be not performing well.â âTheyâre a rookie in a back marker team.â âThey have to be really performing badly.â Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 sheâs talking about. âThey already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.â His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? âHow many does his teammate have?â âNine.â âI have no idea. Not unless thereâs conflict within the team.â She shakes her head. âIs there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?â She shakes her head. âTheyâre looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though theyâd rather take a rookie than him.â âI donât have an answer for you. It doesnât make sense to me.â She nods, expression falling and sheâs rubbing at her face.
âWhatâs going on?â He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. âThe driverâs Logan.â âWhat?â âWilliams isnât sure they want to offer Logan another year.â Max stares at her. âHow?â âI donât know.â She shrugs, laughing. âThereâs talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Loganâs making too many mistakes.â âHeâs costing them too much money.â Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. âThatâs ridiculous. Donât take a rookie if you canât afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And heâs doing well. Itâs not his fault that they built a shit car.â âI donât know what to do.â She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. âThis is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.â âIt wonât. Weâll figure something out.â He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
â
âI think Iâm spoiled.â Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. âWhyâs that, honey?â He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. âYou come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.â Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. âI guess you are a bit spoiled.â He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. âThatâs okay though.â She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. âI think I like you spoiled.â He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. âSchat.â It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. âI know.â She kisses the spot a bit firmer. âCelebrations will have to wait just a day longer.â She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.
âItâs cruel to win with a sprint race.â She snorts, âA sprint race never stopped us before.â âItâs cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.â He amends. âVery true.â
He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. âHowâs Logan feeling?â Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. âNot great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.â He winces. âHe gonna be okay tomorrow?â âI hope so. The team knows that heâs sick, theyâll make the right choice.â âI hope so.â He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.
â
âWe are confident in him.â Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. âI know.â âLogan still wanting to do his new routine.â She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. âHe did good.â It wasnât the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldnât be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.
Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he couldâve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.
âAre him and Oscar still joining us?â She throws him a look. âUs?â âYou.â He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, heâd get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didnât mind that. âOnly for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.â âWill Logan be joining us for Florida?â âYes. My mom has been asking the next time sheâs going to see her only grandchild.â Max laughs at the eye roll. âSo, Belgium first, then Monaco,â âYou go to Milton for a day after.â He nods, âthen Greece, Florida, Monaco.â âNot bad for the first few weeks of winter break.â âNot bad at all.â He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.
Itâs quiet between the couple as Max sways them.
âMax.â âYes?â âYour mom, she does know that Iâm not in my forties right? Or thirties?â She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. âMax.â âI knew I forgot something.â
@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#I â¤ď¸ MILFS verse#I was on something when I came up with this idea and the name of this fic#sins fics
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Hot Chocolate?
Summary: Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and canât find you.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : PTSD, nightmares, panic. very slight cursing. hurt/comfort. Very much an angsty fic.
Requested by : myself againÂ
Word count : 1.4k
Note : As someone who has struggled with sleep disorders, writing this helped me reach a strange catharsis. Since today is World Mental Health day, please check up on your friends, my loves! Oh and I am still accepting requests, I just have enough prompts for the rest of this week and will be replying to your asks at the start of next week! Also, do Americans use electric kettles? Sincerely, someone who lives in England.
Requests are open!
â buy me a ko-fi â
Bucky shot awake. He shuddered, trying to bat away the lingering visions of his nightmare that clung to him like a drenched blanket.
He found his lungs grasping for air with panic gasps as his eyes darted around the bedroom. The shadows casted by the starlight filtered through the curtains took shapes that made his heart race. For a split second, he thought he wasnât in his apartment anymore. He was back in the Siberian Hydra lab, cold metal restraints nipping into his skin. He heard his handlerâs voice speaking Russian, echoing the room with his old trigger words.
He forced himself out of this terrified state, grounding himself in reality. His chest was heaving, his eyes were bleary. Instinctively, his hand reached for the space next to him.Â
It was empty.
You werenât there.
A wave of panic crashed over him, and this was far more constricting than the terror of his nightmares. His heart started pounding more violently in his chest. His fingers grazed the sheets where you should have been. You had at least been gone long enough for the pillows to grow cold.
He could feel his pulse in his veins, each beat hammering the insides of his skull. His mind spiralled uncontrollably, thoughts feeding off the remains of the nightmare and twisting them into something much worse.
Had you left him?Â
What did he do?Â
Had he driven you away?
Was this it?
Bucky hastily threw off the covers, sprawling it all on your bedroom floor. He stumbled out of bed, mind clouded with fear and panic. The apartment was eerily quietâ too quiet for him to handle on his own. Too quiet for his overwhelmingly loud thoughts.
He waded through the hall as if he was four feet deep in muddy waters, his bare feet softly thudding against the floorboards. The faint sound of water boiling reached his ears. His breath hitched, his heart racing.
Emerging into the open space, his eyes darted around the dark living room, his gaze finally landing on the soft glow of the kitchen light.
He walked towards the kitchen.
There you were.
You were standing by the kitchen counter, a mug in one hand, the other resting on the kettle. You were so beautiful. So perfect, compared to him.
You looked lost in thought, your posture relaxed. It was a stark contrast to the storm raging inside him, though you were unaware.
Buckyâs feet stayed where he was for a moment, as if ice had frozen over him. Relief washed over him so fast that it nearly knocked all the air out of his lungs.Â
You were here. You hadnât left.Â
The relief was quickly replaced by the gnawing ache of guilt, the kind that made his chest feel tight and his head swim feel like it was underwater. Heâd thought you were gone, and the mere thought of it had sent him into a spiralling depth. How pathetic.
He couldnât help it. He constantly felt like teetering on the edge of losing you. Like every day with you was borrowed time. Like he had already stayed his welcome. Like he wasnât worthy of holding you in his arms.
Perhaps the reason he was so jaded sometimes, was that he was sure youâd wake up and realise he was too broken, too damaged.Â
When he played this scenario in his head, youâd walk out the door, leaving him a shell of the man he is now. He thought about it more that heâd care to admit.
His heart was still pounding in his chest as he moved closer to you. His footsteps were slow and uncertain. Your eyes lifted to meet his stormy blue ones as he entered the kitchen, your brow furrowing in concern when you saw his pale, shaking face.
"Bucky?" your voice was soft, just barely above a whisper.Â
He shivered a bit, unable to form words for just a second. The ache in his stomach and the ball in his throat made it impossible to speak. His eyes dropped to the floor, shame curling a painful knot in his core.Â
âI woke up, and you werenât there,â he finally muttered, struggling to get every word out, as if he was swallowing glass. âI thoughtâŚâ He trailed off, the rest of the sentence too painful to say out loud. Instead, small sobs escaped his lips.
You set the mug down on the counter and closed the distance between the two. Your hand found his arm, your fingers warm against the cool vibranium.Â
âHey,â you said gently, willing your voice to be as soothing as can be, âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to worry you. I just couldnât sleep.â
Buckyâs gaze stayed fixed on nothingness. You could hear his jaw clicking nervously, like a man terrified for his life.Â
âI thought youâd left,â he admitted in a cracked whisper, sounding as fragile as he felt. âThought Iâd⌠driven you away.â
Your heart broke at the pain in his voice. He sounded like a whimpering puppy, begging to be held.
He had such a raw, vulnerable nature that he tried his best to keep hidden all the damn time. You moved closer, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as he allowed you to. You needed him to know you were never letting him go.
At first, his body was frozen like a petrified statueâ he wasnât sure he deserved the comfort. But slowly, his muscles relaxed under your touch.
âIâm right here, darling,â You whispered. Your words were firm but gentle. âIâm always right here.â
He let out a shaky breath. His forehead dropped to rest against the top of your head, breathing on your scentâ the scent that always brought him a sense of calm. âI donât⌠I donât know why I keep thinking youâll leave.â
âIâm not.â You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest. âIâm not,â you repeated again, hoping that if you said it enough times, heâd finally believe it.
The sincerity of those two simple words made his throat tighten, his chest constricting under the weight of emotions he had always struggled to fully process. He had never ever wrapped his head around how you could stand here, looking at himâsomeone so broken and damagedâwith such gentle desire. He had never believed he deserved it.
But he wanted to believe, to trust that maybe he wasnât as alone as he always feared. That maybe, just maybe, you werenât going to leave him behind like he feared you would.
The faint shimmer of tears fractured the soft kitchen light. He was at a loss of words at how you were holding him together, when he couldn't even do it for himself.
âIâm sorry,â he whispered. âI keep putting you through this.â
Your hand found his, fingers intertwining with his. Your grip was warm, It was reassuring and steady. âDonât be,â you said softly. You could tell that he had a nightmare. You learned the signsâ the shaking, the sweating. The look of restlessness despite being asleep for the last several hours. âYou just had a rough night.â
Bucky trembled against you, feeling him unravelling as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was short and it came in shaky bursts. Tears streamed down his cheeks, hot and heavy, soaking into your skin. They started quietly, a gentle release, but soon turned into shuddering sobs that echoed against the kitchen counter, the walls, the floors.
His grip tightened, fingers twirling into the fabric of your shirt as if you were his anchor in this reality. Each sob was raw, steeped in guilt and in the fear of losing you.
No matter how vulnerable he felt, he knew that in your embrace, there was no judgement. You held him tighter, whispering soft reassurances and sweet nothingsâ promises that youâd stay with him forever and ever. Until the end of time. Until your heart gave out.
âDo you want hot chocolate, too?â you asked softly.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a small laugh, your words a shocking catharsis, bringing him out of the spiral.Â
Oh, you always knew how to say the right thing at the right time.
He nodded, squeezing your hand one more time, just to reassure himself that you were real, that you werenât slipping away.
You smiled gently at his quiet laugh, slightly reaching out to turn the electric kettle back on again without letting your grip on him falter.
As the kettle hummed in the background, Bucky held you close, finally convincing himself that no matter how dark the nightmares were, you would always be there when he woke up.
-end
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#james buchanan barnes#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x reader angst#the winter soldier#winter soldier#catws#fatws#marvel thunderbolts#thunderbolts#bucky barnes comfort#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes x y/n#sebastian stan#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan imagine#marvel fanfic
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Me (and, probably, Edward Little) throughout this episode:
episode 108: terror camp clear
#I HAVE A TYPE OKAY#anyway no-one should blame little#the guy was clearly going through a full blown bisexual awakening AND the discovery of a new kink in the space of thirty seconds#guy did not stand a chance#the terror#solomon tozer#edward little
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Something that goes without saying is how uncertain Logan really is about sleeping in the same space as another person. Sure, he'll commit to the fun beforehandâŚ.The foreplay, the sex, the highs.
But the inevitable act of sleeping beside someone, terrifies him.
We see it in Origin, we see it in Days of Future Past. Sometimes while Logan is sleeping, his claws come out when he feels under duress. Nightmares are a common occurrence for this man, not a night goes by where he isn't waking in the dead of night to the ghost of his past.
And I'd like to think of all the Logans running around the multiverse, that the Worst!Logan has surely been through some things. He's never experienced true rest. Not until he met you.
âI'll sleep on the couch.â Its common at the beginning of whatever the dynamic between the two of you is. Logan ends up back at your cafe, or in your living-room, bathroom, kitchen or bedâbut he never stays beside you for longer than a few minutes after. Not because he doesn't crave that intimacy or true human connection, but because the idea of losing you to his own mutation truly scares the ever-living fuck out of him.
But one night, you catch him off-guard. So off guard that Logan doesn't even have a counter proposal ready.
âIll join you,â You beam, padding down the hallway with your blanket and pillow wrapped in your arms. âSomethings bothing you and with friends like me and Wade, that shits gonna come up eventually,â You ramble. As you sit beside Logan on the lounge he slept on more often than his own bed, he catches a glimpse of a few noticeable scars on your back. Scars where his claws had once accidentally taken over in an otherwise romantic moment between the two of you. âSo, get talking pops.â
âDon't call me pops.â Logan sighs as he opens his body up for you to snuggle up against him. âIt's nothing I can't handle, didn't anyone ever tell you not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?â
âAre you trying to tell me that I don't belong here?â You counter quickly, playing Loganâs logic against himself. âMe? Resident of this timeline? Doesn't belong right here next to you?â
âGo fuck yourself,â Logan smiles all the while trying to keep his brooding man mask on. But with you he feels ever atom of his being igniting with desire and unconditional love. âI worry I'll hurt you, while I'm sleeping,â Logan explains as you listen to his heartbeat inside his chest. Snuggled on the lounge in your apartment. âYou don't know how much that thought terrifies me.â
âHmm,â You hum in response. âPerhaps the question you should be asking yourself Lo, is what if the nightmares, what if the fear stops, when you allow yourself to rest with someone you love?â It was a bold word to use, and even though it was rarely, if ever used, there wasn't another word in the English language to describe how Logan felt about you. Or how you felt about him.
And its a thought that's never crossed Logans mind before. He frowns, thinking it over in the late-night silence. You fall asleep there, right with your head on Logans chest as he tru thinks.
Only to wake up in a tangled mess of sheets, with Logan snorning next to you as the early morning sun kisses his golden, aging skin. Its the first night in years he hasn't woken in screaming terror.
âTell me told you so and I'll turn you into a skewer.â Logan mumbles as you pepper him with kisses across his exposed back.
âI think I'll take my chances with you, Lo,â You chuckle to yourself. âI'll make you some coffee.â
@a-reader-and-a-writer Canon Ilya universe content
Ilya
#logan howlett#logan wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fluff#the ilya universe // logan howlett
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Hello friends, I am back with more reading recommendations for your agonies! Next up we have the long awaited and much requested Sad Boat Fiction list. As with all of my lists, this is NOT exhaustive and there WILL be great books left off, and also you may or may not like these books! I only rec things that I've personally enjoyed or that come highly recommended by trusted friends, but taste in books is incredibly subjective, especially with fiction. If I missed your favorite, please add it in the comments or drop it in my DMs!
Now that I'm feeling more settled in my new job, I will hopefully have a lot more time to make book lists and do more virtual Readers' Advisory. I have lists in the works for women in polar exploration and companion reads for the HBO War series, but if there's something else you would love to see, please send me a message!
Classics of the Genre
At the Mountains of Madness by H.P. Lovecraft
The Terror by Dan Simmons
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
Dark Matter by Michelle Paver
Media Tie-Ins
Who Goes There? (Filmed as The Thing) by John W. Campbell, Jr.
The North Water by Ian McGuire
Cold Skin by Alfred SĂĄnchez PiĂąol
The Terror by Dan Simmons
Graphic Novels
Whiteout by Greg Rucka
How to Survive in the North by Luke Healy
The Worst Journey in the World- The Graphic Novel Volume 1: Making Our Easting Down adapted by Sarah Airriess from the book by Apsley Cherry-Garrard*
*this is only fiction in the broadest possible sense of the term, but there is a shiny new American version of this book coming out with a gorgeous new cover and you should pre-order it immediately
Science Fiction
The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. LeGuin
Antarctica by Kim Stanley Robinson
Romance
Under a Pole Star by Stef Penney
The Ministry of Time by Kaliane Bradley
My Last Continent by Midge Raymond
Inspired by the Terra Nova Expedition
The Worst Journey in the World- The Graphic Novel Volume 1: Making Our Easting Down adapted by Sarah Airriess from the book by Apsley Cherry-Garrard*
The Birthday Boys by Beryl Bainbridge
Terra Nova: A Play by Ted Tally
Antarctic Navigation by Elizabeth Arthur
*this is only fiction in the broadest possible sense of the term, but there is a shiny new American version of this book coming out with a gorgeous new cover and you should pre-order it immediately
Inspired by the Franklin Expedition
The Rifles by William T. Vollmann
Minds of Winter by Ed O'Loughlin
Solomon Gursky Was Here by Mordecai Richler
On the Proper Use of Stars by Dominique Fortier
Literary Fiction
The Voyage of the Narwhal by Andrea Barrett
Migrations by Charlotte McConaghy
We, The Drowned by Carsten Jensen
Inspired by the Classics
The Route of Ice and Salt by JosĂŠ Luis ZĂĄrate
Ahab's Wife by Sena Jeter Naslund
Modern Day Antarctica
How the Penguins Saved Veronica by Hazel Prior
South Pole Station by Ashley Shelby
Where'd You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple
Polar and Nautical Horror
Where the Dead Wait by Ally Wilkes
Dark Matter by Michelle Paver
Cold Earth by Sarah Moss
The Deep by Nick Cutter
All the White Spaces by Ally Wilkes
Dark Water by Elizabeth Lowry
The Deep by Alma Katsu
Happy reading!
#reader's advisory#sad boat#sad boat books#sad boat fiction#polar exploration#nautical history#read this
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Here's a recent artical about them changing it (content warning: transphobia, TERF rhetoric):
[ID: a photo of Kemi Badenoch standing smiling, arms crossed, in front of a painting and a union jack flag. End ID].
I'm not sure how these links with pictures are for acessibility so I put an ID. The artical seems to be giving a pretty much blow-by-blow account. It doesn't counter the absolutely whacky shit being said, it's not an arguement against the changes. I don't know what it'll persuade people of but to me it is scary and sad.
Hereâs a petition to try and stop the amendment of the Equality Act that would discriminate and transgender people.
You need to be a British citizen to sign this, and you have to use a confirmation email to have your signature be valid.
#transphobia#uk politics#trans stuff#there's a throwaway line in the artical about trans men being included as âbiological womenâ and getting maternity leave which. ok.#an easier fix is to just make parental leave not about gender at all#also burly trans men in women's only spaces is sending me. trans men look like behave like and ARE men.#there's also something about after this amendment lesbians will be able to limit membership to âbiological womenâ.#membership to things. not membership to lesbianism.#the artical is not saying there'll be a board of lesbians and like. official cards. idk.#anyway. i know some trans men do still have ties to lesbian as a label that is cool of them carry on#i think people are just a toxic mix of hatred and terror over this.#maybe I should masc up and be maliciously compliant and go crashing about in womens only spaces that excluse trans women
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panem dash simulator
peeniss4everlark Follow
NOOOOOOOOOO
officialsenecacrane Follow
me when i lie
districtfun Follow
i heard from my uncle who works at hunger games that they're only pulling from everlark shippers when they do the quarter quell
gurlonfire
thats funny because when i was fucking your uncle last night he told me they're only pulling from bitchy district one stans
catohead69 Follow
we poppin the biggest bottles when cato wins
catohead69 Follow
theeclove Follow
okay but is anyone else pissed how the district 11 guy literally did favoritism for late districts or what
rues-song
the careers literally did an alliance r u fucking kidding me i hope u get reaped
theeclove
clearly SOMEBODY doesnt understand the strategy of the games
career-sweep Follow
PLEASE tag your hunger games spoilers. this is literally common sense the games have been going on for 74 years you should know better by now
#hunger games spoilers #SOOO pissed rn theres never been a live announcement and now i found out from fucking everlarks
maytheodds Follow
Yes I'm a 30 yr old hunger games watcher. I've been watching kids die since you were in diapers. You have NO idea the tragedies I've endured. Hunger games is escapism for many of us when I come home from a long day of logging the last thing I need is for some 13 yr old tribute dying in a high stakes competition that we ALL knew was high stakes starting a riot and destroying all the nations grain
corholeanussnow
lmao. get a load of this guy
girlalcoholic Follow
haymitch stans rise tf up
#yes girl get that salve #i would fuck that old man
cinnagirl3000 Follow
i wld nvr survive in thg fr baby im killing myself
#thnk goddddd im cap đ #i woulda stepped tf off that platform cinna its been an honor
caeserflickerwoman Follow
does anyone else think it was fucked that peeta invaded ceasar's space when he CLEARLY wasn't comfortable with being SNIFFED by a STRANGER
softgreenpillow
fuck you this is clearly so fucking capitol-centric no one in the capitol would ever be comfortable with any districtperson doing ANYTHING these days. it is capitol-boot-licking scum like you that holds the movement back. get BLOCKED idiot
butchjohanna Follow
Just something I've noticed I think we as a fandom have gotten WAY too comfortable using the phrase "get reaped" as an insult, when it's a very serious reality that many children live with and should not be taken this lightly. Some people online have had to put their names in more for necessities like bread or water and the absolute terror that grips a person waiting for their name to be called doesn't leave you even in adulthood. Please think before you speak
#many of you are not acting in a way that johanna would be proud of. get it together #reaping mention
starcrossedluvrs Follow
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cws: creepy behaviour that leads into future dubcon. youâre not enthusiastic but donât hate it either? idk how to tag this
a home loaning system where civilians (who pass a thorough vetting by the military) can sublet their home as a safe house for any soldier who might need it.
youâre no patriot. when you sign up, you arenât doing it to serve those who serve your country like the website suggests. in fact, itâs a last ditch attempt to keep yourself afloat after your roommate moves out and leaves you with a rent you canât feasibly afford yourself. sacrifice your space in exchange for your housing fully paid for and a headache gone â itâs appealing, certainly, a little too good to be true. youâd suspect it a scam if the url didnât end in .gov.
they ask for a lot, of course. a photo. your national insurance number, passport details and travel history from the past 10 years. occupation (student, which prompts a second question asking for your school and university ID). a ârobustâ paragraph about your living habits. family history, health details. you must black out at one point, as you find yourself hitting submit hours later with no knowledge of what to expect.
that is, if you should expect anything. a confirmation email arrives moments later, and thatâs the last you hear of it.
until 4 months later. a hefty sum hits your account, set to the exact amount you specified your rent + utilities to cost. the sender is the only indication you get that youâve been accepted: the royal army pay corps. on their dime now, and expected to act with the utmost discretion â for your sake as much as theirs. you spend that night fighting sleep on the couch, waiting for a knock by some zealot in fatigues.
no one shows up.
not immediately, at least. gratefully â and a tad surprising given your infamously cheap government â youâre paid regardless of whether anyone requires your service or not. for weeks you treat it as passive income, gauze against bleeding finances, tamping your stress so you can focus on your studies instead. life begins to look up. the air smells a little crisper every morning. you sleep deep and well.
but the knock comes. belatedly, but it comes.
at 12 am, no less. you had resolved to pull an all-nighter to study for your midterm, so you donât miss the low rap of knuckles against your door. though at this point, youâve long forgotten of the expectation that can be delegated to you at any time. your apartmentâs a mess: laundry unfolded, dishes stacked in the sink. whatâs more, your spontaneous guest scares you out of your right mind. a quick look through the peephole is enough to tell you that he is not the pizza delivery man, but a figure towering just below two metres, dressed in a balaclava and plain hoodie.
âwho is it?â you call out, scrambling for an offensive weapon of any sort. you end up with a broom from the nearby cleaning cupboard.
âlieutenant riley.â
oh.
you crack open the door, poking your head out to give him a thorough once over. âyou donât look very military-like.â
âwhaâ a shame.â
lieutenant riley then gives you no choice but to step aside, driving himself through the entryway through brute force. your instinct is to react with pure terror, tripping backward until the broomstick crosses firmly over your chest. yet flight rapidly switches to fight as he dumps his duffel bag by your shoe rack and rummages through your fridge.
âhey! donât they teach you manners in basic?â
âwouldnâ last a day if they did, pet.â he tucks three water bottles under his arm, then picks his stuff off the ground once more. amidst the warmer light of your home, he stands as a herculean anomaly. shoulders that fill the foyer, each hand as large as your skull. his eyes â shadowed, framed in isolation from the rest of his face. and when he stares, unease bleeds into you. as black and void as his civic garb, forming a tightening grip over your heart.
this strange man is in your home.
this strange, large, dangerous man is here to stay for however long he needs.
he lacks all propriety and unabashedly ogles at your bare legs, adjusting himself in plain sight â and to make things exponentially worse, he isnât uninvited. you brought this man here.
(which means youâll have to put up with the strange violation already settling in your chest.)
âyour⌠your room is on the left.â
he says nothing, disappearing to where you point him.
so, the lieutenant is a fucking nightmare.
whatever benefits came with having your rent paid for are immediately negated by the amount of food he consumes. groceries that last you a fortnight are gone in a matter of days, which is perplexing given that you never see him cook. you imagine he slips whatever he can down his throat before going back into hibernation, like some beast too primal for preference.
you call it hibernation because thatâs what it is. he knocks out for hours, door locked, no sound or light coming from the gap underneath. you once spent half an hour just listening in after he hadnât shown face all day, wondering whether youâd be making a call to corpse control for the dead body in your guest room. the effort had been purely motivated by concern, you swear it, however hard that was to explain when he stepped out a few minutes later to find you on your knees, cheek pressed against the floor.
the look he gave you is impossible to forget. hungry, amusement palpable behind the eyes that immediately fix onto your raised behind. you stopped wearing pyjama shorts that day. partly due to your discomfort, but mostly because the pair goes inexplicably missing from your laundry basket. a voice tells you to check under his pillow when he steps out, but the possibility is far too upsetting to seriously consider.
not like heâs above it, though. he crosses so many boundaries, youâd think they werenât common courtesy.
of such instances: in the months since your roommate moved out, youâd gotten into the bad habit of keeping the bathroom door unlocked. while that is your fault, the terror himself isnât blameless given his address of the situation. he should be able to hear the water running as you brush your teeth or wash your face, and yet he walks in anyway, pulling his heavy cock out to piss as you try to ignore the way it heaves between his legs, even when completely soft.
âdoyewmind?â you hiss one morning, mouth still full of foam. it looms in your periphery, fat and ruddy. a trail of wild hair leading down toâ
riley shoots you a blank look. ânoâ at all.â
then tucks himself back into his pants, hand smoothing across your lower back as he slips out. it occurs to you to be grateful that he keeps away when you shower, up until the absolute absurdity of your standards hit you like a killing blow.
the bar is in hell.
(yet you sneak a finger between your legs sometimes, only when youâre absolutely sure youâve locked the door, and imagine how things would unfold if he were to infringe on your most basic of rights.)
it doesnât take long before your quiet fantasy is realised. all it takes is for you to come home particularly late one night â heels in hand and makeup a mess after letting yourself loose at the end-of-term party â to find riley waiting on you, unmasked.
[next]
#sorry ive been really into mean creepy nasty man simon lately#ill edit in the morningđ¤#simon âghostâ riley x reader#simon âghostâ riley#ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#x reader#cod#call of duty#fanfic
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