#sorry for the vent but I need this off my chest

[l4ndonorizz]

sleepless nights / lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: chase atlantic - falling

summary: unable to sleep, lando calls you in the middle of the night, seeking comfort. What starts as a late-night conversation turns into an emotional confession, as hidden feelings come to light and change everything between you

wc: 1.6k

The soft buzz of your phone on the nightstand broke the silence of your room. You blinked groggily at the screen, trying to focus as the late hour made everything seem hazy. Lando’s name lit up the display, and a small knot of concern formed in your chest.

It was nearly 2 a.m.

Swiping to answer, you held the phone to your ear, voice thick with drowsiness. “Lando? It’s really late. What’s going on?”

There was a pause, the quiet sound of his breathing filling the space between your words. “Yeah, sorry,” he replied, sounding hesitant. “Did I wake you?”

You sat up a little, pushing the sleep from your mind. “It’s okay. I wasn’t really asleep yet. What’s up? You sound… off.”

He let out a deep sigh, the weight in his voice unmistakable. “I can’t sleep.”

Your concern deepened. Lando was usually carefree, the type who always found a way to joke through anything. But this time, he sounded different—worn out. “Again?” you asked softly, knowing he’d struggled with sleepless nights recently.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “It’s been like this for days. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling deeper into your pillows as you listened. “What’s on your mind? You wanna talk about it?”

Lando hesitated, and you could almost picture him running a hand through his messy hair, trying to find the right words. “It’s just… everything, I guess. Racing, the pressure, what’s next… I can’t shut my brain off.”

Your heart ached a little at how tired he sounded, and you wished you could be there to help ease whatever burden he was carrying. “I’m sorry, Lando. That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. “I hate it. I lie there for hours, and my head just keeps spinning.”

You listened as he vented, the words pouring out now that he had someone to talk to. Lando rarely let people in like this—he preferred to keep things light, brushing off the hard stuff with a joke or a smile. But tonight, he was raw and unfiltered, and it made you realize just how much weight he carried on his shoulders.

After a few moments of silence, Lando spoke again, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “Do you think… do you think I could come over?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Come over? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied, and you could hear the vulnerability in his voice. “I know it’s late, but I don’t want to be alone right now. I think… I think I just need to be around someone.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and without hesitation, you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Of course, Lando. You can come over.”

“Thanks,” he said softly, the relief in his voice palpable. “I’ll be there soon. Can we stay on the phone while I drive?”

You smiled at the thought of him wanting to keep talking to you, even during the short drive. “Yeah, of course.”

You heard the faint sounds of him moving around, probably grabbing his keys and pulling on a hoodie. The soft rumble of his car’s engine started in the background, and then he was back on the line with you, the quiet hum of the road accompanying his voice.

“What’s been keeping you up the most?” you asked gently, not wanting to push too hard but knowing that sometimes it helped to talk through things.

Lando sighed, the sound tired and heavy. “Honestly? I don’t know. It’s like… I’m trying to be everything at once, you know? The perfect driver, the perfect teammate, even the perfect friend. But no matter what I do, it never feels like enough.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and you wished you could reach through the phone and just hold him. “Lando… you don’t have to be perfect,” you said softly. “You’re allowed to have bad days, and you’re allowed to feel overwhelmed.”

“I know, but it’s hard,” he murmured. “I keep thinking about the future, what’s next, what I’m supposed to be doing… and I just don’t know.”

Your chest tightened with empathy as you listened to the quiet frustration in his voice. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now, Lando. You’re doing your best, and that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

There was a long pause, the sound of the road faint in the background as he processed your words. “You always know what to say,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the warmth in his tone, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “You’d be just fine,” you joked lightly, hoping to ease the tension, but even as you said it, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. He leaned on you in a way that felt different from how he leaned on others, and deep down, you’d always known that.

“You think?” he teased, a hint of his usual playful tone creeping back into his voice. But then, after a brief pause, he added more softly, “I don’t know. I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize.”

Your breath caught at the unexpected honesty in his words. There was something about the quiet of the night, the intimacy of the late hour, that made everything feel more open, more real. “I think you’re a bigger part of my life than you realize too,” you confessed quietly.

Lando didn’t respond right away, but you could hear his breathing on the other end, slow and steady, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say next. “I’m almost there,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that told you he wasn’t just talking about the drive.

A few minutes later, you heard the faint sound of his car pulling up outside. “I’m here,” he said, his voice gentle as he stepped out of the car.

You climbed out of bed, pulling your blanket around you as you padded to the door. Opening it, you found Lando standing there, his hair tousled from the drive, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. His face was soft, tired but relieved, and something in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“Hi,” you said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hi,” he replied, offering you a small smile as he stepped inside, kicking off his shoes by the door. You closed it softly behind him, the quiet of your apartment wrapping around you both like a warm blanket.

Lando stood in the middle of your living room, looking around for a moment before turning back to you, his expression soft but serious. “I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you reassured him, stepping closer until you were standing just a few feet apart. “I’m glad you came.”

He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie, and for a moment, he seemed almost unsure of what to say. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately,” he said softly. “Mostly about you.”

Your breath hitched at the confession, and you took another step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “About me?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking about how much you mean to me. How you’re always there for me, even when I don’t deserve it. And… how scared I am of losing you.”

The vulnerability in his words made your chest tighten, and you felt the urge to reach out and touch him, to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere. “You won’t lose me, Lando,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing softly over your skin. “I care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “More than just as a friend.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and suddenly, everything felt clear. The late-night phone calls, the way you always felt so safe around him, the way your heart fluttered every time he smiled—it had all been leading to this.

“I care about you too,” you admitted, your voice soft but sure. “More than I’ve let myself realize.”

Lando’s eyes softened, and he stepped closer, his free hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. “I didn’t want to mess this up,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your skin. “But I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

You smiled, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “You’re not messing anything up,” you whispered back.

For a moment, you just stood there, the world falling away as Lando’s gaze locked with yours. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that felt like a promise—gentle, warm, and filled with everything that had been left unsaid.

When you finally pulled back, Lando rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I think I can finally sleep now,” he murmured with a small laugh.

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think I can too.”

[mastermagician332]

Vent post because I could use any feedback the world can offer right now

Cw: period mentions, vomit mentions, Covid mentions, diabetes and discussion of illness in general

Since I got Covid at the end of last year I've been struggling with a weird, unexpected symptom that I hear isn't as uncommon as I initially thought: my bloodsugar is a wild animal right before my period starts. Diabetes is common in my family so I've been taking measures to monitor my own situation at home and track the good and bad days, leading to what follows.

In the week before, I've noticed this pattern of happenstances repeating itself.

I'll have a sleepless night. This often includes leg cramps, feeling like I'm feverish, general discomfort without a clear cause and my brain just will not shut down.

When I do finally sleep, I wake up nauseous, feeling light headed and shakey. Typically this is the sign that my bloodsugar took a nose dive during the night, and I always test when these symptoms start to make sure I handle it accordingly.

It cannot be avoided: I will vomit at least once. It doesn't matter if water is all I've had or a meal to boost myself back up. In the first 3 hours of being awake, my body is going to launch a protest that seems very counterproductive to getting what it needs.

The rest of the day I will struggle with dizziness and fatigue that typically lessens over the day, with the help of the determination to eat and refuel.

This is the frustrating part: It will either signal the start of my period, or it will rinse-lather-repeat until it does.

Its so hard to tell if this is a hormone issue, a bloodsugar issue or both? And being seen for it is a joke, I have been turned away for these same symptoms and told its just sleep deprivation, eat something and sleep and I'll be fine. And I mean kinda? But that doesn't give me answers on why these things keep happening the way they do. Why its timed so perfectly with the shift of chemicals in my body. And calling out from work once a month is a terrible idea, I need solutions.

I have ADHD and have to set reminders to eat.

Sometimes when I lay down at night my brain becomes a loud, anxiety powered hamster wheel that won't let me sleep.

I try my best to stay on top of it and still have crash days.

The worst of it is feeling like I'm perceived as lazy by my peers when I have the those days. If I had a dollar for every time I've been told its my own fault that I don't sleep well I could probably buy Tumblr. Nothing fits the saying "kick them while they're down" like telling someone with a chronic illness that its their fault for having it at all, that they did it to themselves. I don't choose sleepless nights or rough mornings, they happen against my efforts to prevent them.

I feel like I'm rambling here but if you've read this far, and have experienced anything like it, or even know someone who does, I'd love to hear from you. I'm currenly typing this from my recovery nest after another bad morning so if someone out there has advice I'm all ears.

[naartjie-hijabi]

Can I just say something really quick?

Ever since that damned "Our Flag Means Death" was cancelled, mind you was this show even popular outside of the US because I legitimately have never even heard of it before, a lot of you so called "allies" have been showing your true colours.

The fact that you can raise $20k, create and sign petitions, even go as far as organising a billboard for a freaking show that has KNOWN zionists in its crew, but you couldn't spend even a portion of that energy for people who are actively facing a genocide says a lot about who you are as a person. The fact that you have the nerve to go into Palestinian spaces and try to justify your actions when they call you out, really where do any of you get the audacity?

These people are grieving. They have family and friends dying and fighting for their right to even exist and you have the damn nerve to go to their inboxes and whine about a fucking gay pirate show. If you felt offended by victims calling you out for your bullshit and made statements about reconsidering your stance on the on-going genocide, then guess what? You're not as great a person as you think you are.

Standing in solidarity with Palestine isn't some sort of trend or community project that you can just opt out of. Standing in solidarity with Palestine isn't something you can brag about or hold over the heads of actual Palestinians as if having basic human decency is something to be proud of.

If your allyship is that fragile, you're not actually an ally, you don't actually care about Palestine, all you are is an opportunist looking for some way to show off your white-savior complex.

Your opinions, believe it or not, does not matter more than the opinions of the victims of a 76-year occupation. If they tell you they're uncomfortable, you LISTEN. If they call you out for your bullshit, you LISTEN. No Palestinian owes you any explanation for their pain, so can you please stop looking for validation by leaving your shitty explanations in the inboxes of Palestinians? It's really not that hard to not be an ass.

The world has bigger problems than your pirate show, so get your head out of your ass and actually do something constructive.

[serbianazula]

Y'all I just started watching Arcane (like two months ago) and I need to get this off my chest bc I was kinda weirded out in episode 4/5 (Btw I did finish series and I know he sees her as a daughter and I definitely DO NOT ship them!!!)

[babbyrat-art]

Dear Bunny

[natsmagi]

honestly the more i hear about engstars and its TLs the more i absolutely dread the inevitable release of poltergeist and what may ensue from it, bc if if the translators themselves are already invalidating arashis identity then i Really Truly do not want to see how theyll translate natsume and tsumugis microaggressions/transphobia towards her. esp since ive noticed a rise in people being comfortably transphobic towards her, and i REALLY do not wish to see natsume and tsumugi being stupid fucking morons be used as evidence to discredit her

and i think this is all the more reason why its VERY IMPORTANT for engstars to DIRECTLY ACKNOWLEDGE arashi and her gender. bc sometimes characters are STUPID and RUDE and APATHETIC. enstars is a story with NUANCED and FLAWED CHARACTERS, and when a character is being a fucking asshole youre meant to PROVE THEM WRONG. but they dont even acknowledge arashi as a girl themselves. so, if you do use engstars, please keep pressuring them bc omfg this is so bad and i can only see it getting worse

[solitaire-sol]

Marauders Fandom Vent Post

CW: The following is anti-Regulus, anti-Barty Crouch Jr, anti-Slytherin Skittles, anti-Death Eater whitewashing, and a little general ranting about canon vs non-canon.

I should be finishing my Moonchaser Week fics but I made the mistake of browsing around and wow wow wow there are some truly terrible takes and I kind of really hate it.

"Regulus was abused and--" Really? Was he? Because all the info we get on him in canon is that he was Orion and Walburga's 'golden boy,' probably after Sirius started getting rebellious, definitely not reason enough to be Voldy's No. 1 Cheerleader until he was personally offended by the pursuit of immortality/mistreatment of Reg's house-elf. Just because ten billion fics follow-the-leader'd a handful of Big Fics where Sirius and Regulus were regularly Crucio'd on the daily from early childhood (and were still somehow functional when it landed Neville's parents, two adult and experienced Aurors, in the madhouse) does not make it canon. REGULUS WAS NOT A POOR ABUSED KITTEN AGAHGAHGAH

Oh, and speaking of the Longbottoms: "There's no proof Barty Jr really tortured anyone and he probably didn't even do anything at school so we don't know--"

Yeah, I guess that's fair. I mean, he was a dyed-in-the-wool Deatheater and was sent with two known murder-y/torture-y Deatheaters specifically to "take care" of the Longbottoms, who were as mentioned tortured into madness, but maybe Barty Jr was just sent along to take minutes or serve tea or something! No-one desperate to avoid Hell Prison might try to avoid it by saying they were innocent of the thing they did! We should believe the fascist fanboy who hangs out with other murderous and torturous fascist fanpeople.

"But Barty Jr was under the Imperious by his father! He was abused so--"

Yes, because his father stupidly broke his son out of Hell Prison as his wife's dying wish, tried to hide said son and couldn't control him because Barty Jr was a Voldy fanboy who kept trying to rejoin/restart their little Dark Magic gang! I'm not defending Barty Sr, he made a lot of very poor decisions throughout, but he Imperious'd Barty Jr to keep him from wandering off and doing Death Eater things like, oh, torturing and murdering Muggles and Muggleborns! There's no indication that Barty Jr was Imperius'd or cursed or abused or anything worse than having an emotionally distant workaholic father before he went into Azkaban, and there are lots of kids with emotionally distant parents who don't join hate armies and try to resume said activities after, again, his dying mother sacrificed herself for his freedom. Shockingly, Barty Jr is actually terrible!

I know, I know, it's fandom, do whatever you want, but I just don't understand this bizarre dual-vision myopia. Either canon doesn't matter, you can do what you want and ignore whatever's in the books, in which case why bother citing canon events at all? Or canon does matter, in which case your wildly speculative and sometimes outright incorrect 'facts' should at least be acknowledged as exactly that, rather than stretching the intended meaning of the phrase 'it could happen' so far that it snaps! Why are people so desperate to whitewash these murderous fanatics, they aren't even actually hot, their fans have decided they're hot and therefore should be whitewashed and I don't understanddddddd

[gemmahale]

So I've temporarily paused my queue. It's just me, shouting into the void again. (The queue will maybe come back - there's some 800 some odd posts in there.) Just as an FYI.

I've been stuck in my head since...my work trip last weekend? Which, tbf, 12 hours of windshield time and a day of interacting with people is a fair bit.

(I'm cutting this because y'all don't need my yapping, but I need it off my chest. Go get some water or a beverage of choice instead.)

TW: mental health discussion. I am safe, I am not going to do anything brash.

But Monday I came back to an email from my boss - apparently two clients had stopped in to speak with him because I hadn't answered their calls (all are within the last two-ish weeks, maybe more?).

A huge part of my job is that timely client call-back. And one place that I consistently struggle in. We've had this discussion going on for 6+ mo now on how critical this call-back part is. The whole thing of what we do is timely, scientifically backed information.

I'm shit at calling back. I hate doing it. I hate troubleshooting people's plant problems. It just seems so...inconsequential. People are stressing about a dead spot in their yard (that's probably over watered and over fertilized and a sterile environment) and it's just...get some perspective, y'know?

I don't know. I love this job. I love the impact I could have. Get me talking about how people deserve healthy ecosystems and food access and such and I'm going a mile a minute.

But I'm paralyzed when it comes to solving these stupid "inconsequential" problems.

I have a newsletter I've been talking about sending out since FEBURARY. It's now AUGUST. It's unsent. I just hit a wall every time I sit down to set it up.

Same thing with the volunteer program I manage. The workshops I'm working on. All of it. Wall against wall against wall and I'm scrolling tumblr for the 43rd time that day.

And I don't know what to do. I'm scared. That's what it is. I'm Scared I'll give bad information and something will get killed and it'll be my fault.

(yes that's capital S scared.)

I don't know what I'm going to say tomorrow in our meeting. I know I'm on thin ice. I'm going into my 3rd year of this. I shouldn't be struggling like this. My RSD is so fuckin' bad that it's locking me up and shutting me down.

Part of me wants to be fired. Just "this isn't a good fit" and out the door. Proof that I'm not cut out for this job. Because all I have succeeded in doing is failing my colleagues, my peers and the clientele that I interact with.

I'm self-sabotaging myself and I don't know how to not to.

I love the opportunities this job has. But I'm terrified of failure to the point of breakdown. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that, right?

It's imposter syndrome, self-sabotage, other terms I've forgotten. having a name for it doesn't help any - just reinforces that I'm doing it to myself. And that's what hurts the most.

I haven't told anyone I'm struggling. It's hard to reach out. Kallen's been dealing with nightmares and job bullshit and high pain days (and his listening is problem solving/therapist-ing, which isn't what I want or need). My friends are all bogged down with their lives - unemployment, moving, divorces, childcare, and I'm not going to burden them with this gunk.

The irony to this is that I just told a friend to lean on me - because that's what friends do when they're in tight spots. Lean on each other, support each other.

But really it just means: Justify that I'm worth being here/being friends with me by making me useful to you.

God I wish I didn't have all this brain goop. I wish I could just scoop it out and poke at it under a microscope and dissect what happened to make me like this.

Gemma find a therapist. <- Whole different conversation. There's a dearth of mental health providers out here. I quit looking in 2021 when I called 5 places and they all said they were not taking on more clients and the one I tried we didn't vibe with each other. Fuck being a (mostly closeted) queer woman in small-town America.

[fyodior]

.

[thisbicc]

Can we just talk about the sad reality of being an adult and not having any friends...

I'm planning a big life event and I want to cry. I've never been with making or keeping friends because my anxiety makes me think they only talk to me to be polite or to shut me up...it even hits on here/Tiktok/insta when I msg someone. I've only ever had 2 friends and those bridges were burned through drugs and cheating.

I'm not posting this to get attention or act like a 'pick me' but I have no other place to vent.

The only people I have to invite to this function is my mom who I have a weird relationship with and am trying to put distance between us but since we work together it's hard.

I told my fiance he's welcome to invite his hockey team but he isn't very close with them as most are 8-10 yrs younger and he doesn't hang out with them outside of hockey..plus I used to be friends-ish with one or the guys girlfriends and it ended weird (which I still have anxiety about).

I'm 33 with no social life...it's not like I'm making friends anytime soon sadly.

[rainbowangel110]

god save me there was a group project for english due in the next two days, no one has done anything including me and there's a individual part too due the same time and then an essay that needs 800 words minimum due friday and i have less than a sentence done but i can't fucing. idk. do it. I'm stuck in a scroll spiral and I just. I know i have to but i don't want to. head in hands save me.

[b0ll0]

FEED ME MORE TWOMP FANART PLEAAAASE MY OWN ART IS NOT ENOUGH I NEED MOOOOOORRRrRreEEeEeEe-

[entirelysein-e]

.

September is a rough month for me. Coming to terms with missing my dad and that it's been a year without him which I shouldn't care for since we never had a (good) relationship.

Now my moms in hospital again too. I just really don't wanna anymore. I love that woman to the moon and back and I don't want anything to happen to her too. She gets a life changing surgery next Monday (if she's better by then). It's not good, she's been crying for an hour now but perhaps her body will get better and can actually recover like that.

Idk what to do or if i'll disappear again for a week or two or if I'll yap excessively to distract myself. Sorry either way.

[gorelesbian]

sometimes i think that maybe i should let go of any boundaries i have left and really be a mother for my mother, be the mother she always needed but never had, but i can't be her mother, her childhood is over and her mother is gone and the damage is done and nothing i do for her will fix that and that makes me so unspeakably sad

[ambrossart]

Okay, I need to vent for a second:

My in-laws are staying with us right now, for three weeks. I was not told about this until the plans were already made.

Right now I’m feeling very betrayed and disrespected by my husband, especially considering I’m the one most affected by this situation.

We live in a very small two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment. I work from home, my office doubles as the guest bedroom, so now I just feel… displaced. It’s like I can’t relax in my own home. There’s mess everywhere. Everything is out of its proper place. And I have nowhere to retreat to when I need to decompress and recharge. I’m honestly miserable.

So now I’m sitting outside on the porch, feeling like I’m about to burst into tears at any second.

And it’s only day two.

[quietlyblooms]

we’ll see how the rest of the day plays out, but it’s honestly just not a great mental day for me. the family excursion was fine — nothing went wrong. i just feel very overwhelmed and sensitive, and there’s not been a moment where it’s just quiet. writing might be how i recharge once i’m home, but we’ll just see. i might just lurk and take it easy uvu