#you gave me grandpa!!! you can do this too!!!!

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven - Slice of Life

Series Part Listing Found Here

Hi Friends! Merry Christmas!!

As my present to you all, here's a little slice (chunk) of life of Xi and Neteyam's family life. This was originally supposed to be an Epiloguest type of chapter, but this came out instead.

Hope you enjoy!

~

Zyden shuffled around his family’s home a tad bleary eyed. After cleaning himself up, taming down his sleep twisted braids and chewing on a sprig of van’eela bark, he fixed a quick meal from his family’s stash and sat down to eat it. 

“Hey, Sprout,” Neteyam greeted, walking in after a ‘graveyard shift’ of patrol duty. 

Although he tried not to take up too many shifts during that hour, it was mating season for pulkatans and so it was all hands on deck for protecting the clan when they were most susceptible to threats. 

“Morning, dad,” Zyden voiced, scarfing another mouthful of food in his mouth. He squinted as he chewed, watching his father shuck off his riding gear and weapons. “Mom threw up earlier- twice. I held her hair back.” 

Neteyam sighed, glancing at the partition he knew his mate was behind. “Is she up?”

“No, she fell back asleep after having tea. Hys snuck in with her at some point last night. He still has that cough. Hope it’s okay that I gave him a little of the g’in root tonic mom’s been giving him.”

Ruffling his son’s hair affectionately, Neteyam pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “Thanks for taking care of them for me.” 

“Course.” Zyden sprang up to hurriedly rinse out his bowl.

“Where are you heading off to so early anyway?” 

“Grandpa Jxo said L’eo and I can help him and his team with the repairs on the northern border. I wanna finally try out that old drill uncle Norm fixed up for me. L’eo’s probably already waiting for me, I said I’d meet him at his tent.” 

Neteyam nodded. “Alright have fun. Remember your rules?”

Zyden rolled his eyes, cracking a smile despite his mild annoyance. “Yeesss, dad.”

“And what are they?” 

“Do I really have to do this every time?”

“Sure do.”

“Ugh, dad.”

“Hey, the longer you take to say them, the longer you take to leave. Now come on, what are they?”

“Fine… Be respectful to anyone I see. Keep my wits about me. Don’t go past the boundaries without your permission and always be home by curfew. Can I go now?”

“Got your knife?” 

Zyden huffed. “Dad!” He laughed. “You can clearly see it on my hip!” 

“Alright, alright. Get out of here. I’ll see you later!”

He watched from the threshold as Zyden ran down the pathway until he disappeared. Only at the sound of a feminine chuckle behind him, did he turn around. 

Biting down on his bottom lip and head tilting ever so slightly to the side, his eyes roamed over his wife appreciatively.

Even though it had been years, the sight of her never ceased to amaze him. She was sleep rumpled- all squinty eyes, mused hair and sleep lines from whatever pillow she’d been laying her cheek on. 

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured in greeting. 

Xilä’s nose wrinkled at the compliment yet she couldn’t help the fond smile that escaped her. “I’m a mess.”

He shrugged as he closed the distance between them, swooping downward to steal a kiss. “A beautiful mess then,” he teased, making her giggle happily. 

“Sure,” she laughed in denial, patting his chest in thanks anyway. 

“Zyden said you were sick again?”

“Mhm.” Xi sighed contentedly, leaning into her mate’s soothing touch. “I don’t remember it being this bad with either of our boys.” 

Neteyam rocked them side to side slowly, one hand running up and down her spine, the other splayed on her little bump that had only begun to show. 

“Maybe it’s a girl this time,” he joked. 

It was an old wives tale that terrible morning sickness meant the baby would be a girl. 

“Maybe,” she hummed, playing along. 

“Should I brew you some tea? I made sure to get that weird coral stuff from Awa’atlu that Ronal recommended when you were pregnant with Zyden.”

Xi smiled up at him. “You spoil me, you know that?” 

“Always.”

“Mama?” 

They both turned at the same time to see a coughing Hysik coming towards them. 

Although the little one clearly had his sights set on his mother, Neteyam scooped him up before Xi could. 

“There’s, my boy.” 

Hys broke out into giggles when his sides were tickled and a loud raspberry was blown into his cheek. 

“Did you sleep well, my love?” Xi cooed as she brushed away askew strands of hair away from his face.

“Yep! But- but I wake up and you went gone mama. That’s not very nice,” the three year old said in all seriousness, making his parents chuckle. “I missed you when I was sleeping.”

“Aw. I’m sorry, baby.”

Xi frowned when Hysik released another wet, rattling cough. She reached up and felt his forehead, then under his neck, relieved to find him cool to the touch. 

“I don’t like how long his cough is taking to dry up.”

“Me too,” Xi echoed. “I know it’s just a cold, but just to be safe I think I’ll take him to see your grandmother today.”

As his parents planned their day, Hys took the opportunity to stretch forward with intent, one tiny hand clutching the fabric of Xi’s top, little face smooshed into her neck when she settled him against her hip.

“He’s getting too big for you to carry around now. You’re not supposed to be straining yourself.” 

“I know, but just let me baby him a little longer.” And for emphasis she hugged him closer and attacked his small palm with a noisy kiss. 

“I- I not a baby, mama.” Hys sounded entirely offended.

Neteyam snorted and Xi pouted. 

“Yes, you’re my baby.” 

“No.” His head lifted and his hand patted his mama’s cheek as if trying to make her understand. “I a big boy. Like Zyden. An- and L’eo. And Js’avi. And- and-”

Neteyam pointed at himself, mouthing, “me” at his son. 

“And daddy!” 

~

After breakfast, Neteyam, Xilä and Hys slowly made their way through camp towards the  Tsahìk’s tent. 

Despite his little legs, Hysik’s fast steps zigzagged ahead of them, then fell a little behind when he got distracted by an insect at first, then an interesting rock- only to be hailed by his parents.

He waved hello to almost every person they met on the way and practiced his “good mornings,” with a confidence Xilä wished she’d had when she first arrived at Home Camp.

“Sprout’s been asking a lot of questions about our trading system lately.” 

Xi grinned. “He takes after you and his grandfather for sure. I overheard him giving Jake suggestions on how to improve things.” 

“They’re good too,” Neteyam said proudly. “I know he’s only ten, but dad and I were thinking of creating a little roll for him. Get him involved in the process somehow.”

“I love that. I think Zyden will too.” 

“Next shipment I’ll see what I can come with then.”

“Oh…”

“What?”

“It’s just- that’s two weeks away.”

Neteyam’s brows furrowed. “Well, yeah. Why?”

“Nothing. I figured Leati or Gwuyle or even your father would be handling shipments while you were gone.” Xi nibbled on her bottom lip, glancing up to see the obvious shift in her mate’s disposition. “I take it you haven’t given any more thought about your trip then?”

Tense from subject change, Neteyam tried to keep his tail limp. It tended to give way his emotions before it could reach his face- his wife’s words, not his. 

“Baby, we’ve been over this-”

“I know, I know. I’m only checking again,” Xi assured, lightly squeezing his fingers where they were linked with hers. “And you’re sure?”

Her mate didn’t answer. 

“‘Teyam… I know you hate when I say it, but… it’s been years now.”

“You can come with me,” he suggested, as if he hadn’t done so many times in the last three weeks, deflecting what she was trying to get to. “You and the boys.”

“Neteyam, I don’t-”

“Gwran’mama ‘Tiri!” 

Hysik squealed happily at the sight of Neytiri who lit up at the sound of her grandson’s voice. She instantly attacked him with affection the second he landed in her arms, showing him off to the Na’vi women she’d been talking to. 

Xilä sighed when her husband sped up to go greet his mother.

She guessed their conversation would have to wait. 

~

Hysik was a little “chatterbox” as his grandpa Jake had nicknamed him. 

Throughout his entire checkup, Hys talked and talked and talked. Telling the Tsahìk every little detail of a very elaborate dream he’d had. 

And of course, being a doting great-grandmother, Mo’at hung on to every word, all while she expertly handled the toddler’s squirming and fidgeting and whining when it was time for her to inspect his tail. 

“Warm marllow root tea with a little raw nectar and he’ll be fine in no time,” Mo’at announced after she’d completed her checks. 

“And there’s no infection?” Xi asked, letting her son crawl out her lap and boldly fling himself into his father’s instead. 

“No, infection.”

“What about his lungs?” Neteyam asked this time, unfazed as Hys used him as his own personal climbing wall- little knees and elbows digging into his muscle, small feet pinching his thighs and stomach. 

Cases of the purple fever had begun to pop up again, and its effects were known to have damaging effects on the lungs. 

“Fine too. It’s a cold, not the purple fever, thankfully. To be safe, no school time tomorrow and I suggest you keep using the g’in root for another week.”

Xilä’s shoulders slumped in relief. Logically she knew all of this, but hearing it from Mo’at made all the difference.

“Thank you, grandmother… I swear, one would certainly think I’m no healer. But when it comes to my children, I panic and I forget everything you’ve taught me.”

Mo’at clicked her tongue in amusement. “Never mind that, dear. Our children tend to have that effect on us.”

“Gwran’mama?” Hys interrupted shyly. 

He hadn’t quite gotten names down just yet, and so Sal, Neytiri and Mo’at were all called gwran’mama, while Jake and Jxo were gwran’papa.

It was honestly cute, and thankfully none of the grandparents seemed to mind his mix ups. 

“Yes, my dear boy?”

“I was really good. Can I have a treat now?”

“Please,” Neteyam prompted.

Hys nodded, little palms stretching out as his tail waved excitedly. “Yes, please, gwran’mama?”

With two sweet treats secured, Hysik was quietly occupied as he sat in his father’s lap. 

Mo’at decided she wanted to check over Xi as well, since she was already here- gentle hands poking and prodding the little baby bump while she asked question after question. 

The Tsahìk was the only one besides their son Zyden, who officially knew they were expecting. 

Xilä and Neteyam had had an extremely difficult time conceiving their Hysik. To Xi, he was their little miracle baby. She’d cried for almost two days straight out of pure joy when she found out she’d be a mother for the second time.

And so, suffice to say, this time around both she and Neteyam had been shocked- pleasantly surprised of course, that Xi’s “stomach bug” turned out to be morning sickness.

“Are you still sick in the mornings?”

“Not all the-”

“Yes she is. Every morning for the last month, and after lunch on most days too,” Neteyam answered. “She’s barely able to keep anything in her for long.”

“Hm… It’s still early, and you haven’t lost that much weight for us to be worried yet. So we’ll monitor it for now, yes? Keep drinking your soothing teas and maybe stick to fruit and well-cured meats for a few days.” 

Xilä smiled gratefully when Mo’at patted her hand. 

~

“Theeen, I finally hit every target at practice- even the furthest ones I could never get perfectly, and I beat Pk’osh at a wrestling match. He’s the biggest in our class and no one’s ever beaten him before- I did that new technique that grandpa Jake taught me and L’eo- you know one like-” Zyden made an exaggerated jerk to demonstrate.

“Zyden,” his mother chided from where she was hunched behind him- fingers in his hair as she braided neat plaits. 

“Sorry, ma,” he apologized quickly, sitting still once more. “Oh and, dad! Our trainer said that I am seriously fierce for my age. He said that if I put in the hard work, I’d be a great warrior. I want to be perfect at all my tests though. So I have an advantage for my Iknimaya rites.”

“My love, you don’t have to worry about your Iknimaya for at least another couple of years.”

“I know, mom but it never hurts to be prepared. Right, dad?”

Sprawled out on the massive hammock in his and Xi’s room, Neteyam was all wide smiles as he listened to his son speak.

“He’s right,” Neteyam agreed as he Xi shared meaningful grins over the top of Zyden’s head.

Xilä rolled her eyes fondly. Her son sounded just like his father.

“L'eya's the best in our class with the bow, and since we started spear practice, L’eo’s been the best, but I’m definitely better at sparring and knife throwing.”

“I’m incredibly proud of you, Sprout,” Neteyam praised. 

“And me!” Hysik piped in, wanting to be included. He pointed at his chest as he sat up on his knees to face his father. “I a warrior too, daddy!” 

Neteyam chuckled and tickled his pudgy tummy. “I’m very proud of you too, Hys.”

The three year old beamed, awfully pleased with himself before focusing on the little carved ikran he’d been flying around. Making screeching sounds, he waved it in the air then dramatically landed it on his daddy’s propped up knee. 

When Xilä finished with the final braid, she hugged Zyden round his shoulders and kissed his temple. Most days she couldn’t believe that he was almost eleven already- and almost as tall as her. 

Both he and Hysik were the splitting image of Neteyam. Zyden had her eyes and more prominent pointed ears while Hys only had a mildly darker hue of her dusty blue complexion. Everything else was all his father.

Continuing to chat with Neteyam, Sprout curled up on his mother’s side of the hammock. And by the time Xi tidied away a few things, and quickly spoke with Kah’lee who’d stopped by to drop off a borrowed basket, Hys was sprawled half asleep on his daddy’s chest. 

“Alright, my loves,” Xi called. “Bedtime.” 

“No- no bedtime, mama,” Hys whined as he tiredly rubbed his eyes. 

“Come on, Hys,” Neteyam encouraged, rubbing the little ones back. “We have to listen to your mama.”

“Dad, can you tell us a story first?”

“Sure, which one do you want to hear?”

Xi crawled in beside Zyden and Hysik instantly reached out for her. He was at that weird toddler stage where he wanted to be a “big boy” most days, but still enjoyed being babied.

Cheek settled against her chest, Xi ran her fingers through his hair. Immediately his eyelids fluttered closed and his little tail curled up contentedly. 

“How about the one about mom’s Iknimaya rites,” Zyden decided, “and how she used the ul’nic that Na’raline’s sa'nok gave her?”

“Oh that’s a good one… Hmm. Alright, so first, did you know your mother was terrified of heights?”

Zyden giggled. Of course he knew, yet every time his father told this story, it still made him laugh. 

Xilä smiled happily as she drank in the sight of her boys.

Nights like these, when it was just the four of them, were her favorite.

~

“So, wife. Are you going to put me to bed now?” Neteyam teased when he returned from getting the boys settled in their rooms.

Her back was turned to him as she stood rubbing oil along her stomach. “Now why does that sound so naughty, husband?” 

“Cause it’s meant to be,” he murmured, pressing up against her. His lips brushed her ear while his hands went around to join hers- large palms splayed, making her little baby bump disappear. 

“I still can’t believe we’re going to have another one.” 

Neteyam’s chin perched on her shoulder as he caressed her bump, watching how perfect his palms fit around it. “Me neither… We’re going to be outnumbered now.” 

Xi chuckled, slotting her fingers into the spaces between each of his fingers. “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

“You’re right. I love it,” he admitted, nibbling a little on her jaw. “But don’t worry, baby. We’ll stick together…”

“What?” she ask when he made a thoughtful sound.

“It’s just… three is such an odd number. Don’t you think?”

“‘Teyam, this baby isn’t even born yet. Are you really advocating for a fourth right now?” Xi laughed.

He pouted against her cheek. “I’m just saying…”

This man.

“When do you think we should tell the family? Sal’s going to go crazy and Kiri will be relieved since mom’s been dropping not so subtle comments at her and Tasam.”

“Um… Maybe when you get back from your trip.”

A sigh escaped Neteyam as he stood tall again- arms falling away from her body. He tugged on her tail lightly before stepping away to fling himself into their hammock, tossing out a couple of the cushions that took up too much space. 

“Baby, I’m not going on that trip.” 

Xilä could tell her husband was frustrated with her and actively trying not to show it. But at this point she didn’t care. He kept brushing her off whenever she brought up the subject.

“‘Teyam, we need to talk about this. Please?”

“Come to bed, Xi. We’re just going to fight if we do this tonight.”

“Then let’s fight.”

He blinked. “You want to fight?”

“If that’s what it's going to take for us to clear this up, then yes.”

“Now?” 

“No! Next year,” she snapped sarcastically. “Yes, now.” 

His brows jumped at her tone, and he quickly sat up. “O-okay. Then let’s.” 

Xilä approached the edge of their bed, but didn’t sit. “Jake said that this trip is a huge opportunity- that it will be a major factor to help prove you’re more than capable to lead our clan.”

“There will be other chances-”

“But this one is right here!” 

“Xilä-”

“Why don’t you want to go?” she asked frankly. She had an inkling but wondered if he’d actually say it out loud.

“What? I- Xi, I’m not going to leave my sons and my pregnant wife for a one month trip to the Wetlands that I’m perfectly sure my dad and Tasam- who I’m sending instead, can handle.” 

Xilä planted her hands on her hips. 

“You are supposed to be meeting with the chief of the Hulanta clan- as future chief yourself, Neteyam! Tasam was supposed to go with you either way, as your future second. I’m barely four months along and perfectly capable of taking care of our sons. I have a whole support system if I need help… Those are all poor excuses you gave and you know it.” 

Neteyam’s jaw clenched tight. He pinched the bridge of his nose as though in pain, then leveled his mate with an expression full of exasperation. 

“I don’t understand why you’re pushing this, Xilä. Why won’t you take me saying that I just don’t want to go, as an answer?”

“Because when Jake first brought this up, you were so excited about it! You came home and spent over an entire afternoon telling me everything you planned to either implement or suggest to the Hulanta chief-”

Neteyam tried to interject but Xilä silenced him with a flashing glare, one knee coming up to rest on the hammock. She didn’t back down, not even at the sight of his tail thrashing furiously. 

“And the second you found out that the boys and I couldn’t come on the trip with you, you shut it all down.” 

“I changed my mind, okay? I had my reasons.”

“You had your reasons?” Xi frowned. 

“It’s a month long trip. Yes. I had my reasons.” 

“The same type of reasons that left you unable to go on any trip no matter how long or how short in the last ten years, right?” Xi pushed. “Trips that me and the boys weren't able to make with you because it was either dangerous or just plain unnecessary?”

“Drop it, Xi. I’m done for tonight.” 

“Drop it?! For Eywa sake! Neteyam that’s all I’ve been doing for the last ten years. Every time I try to bring up this conversation you’ve told me to drop it and I have! I don’t want to do it anymore!” 

“I don’t see the problem here! I’m prioritizing my family. Why are you so adamant on getting rid of me?!” 

“Getting rid of you? You think that’s what I’m trying to do?” 

“Sure seems that way, sweetheart,” he snapped. 

“Well what it seems to me, is that you're running away from what the actual issue is and I don’t understand why you won’t just be honest with yourself about it.” 

“I don’t know what you’re on about, but I am telling you for the last time. I am not going on that goddamn trip.”

“WHY?”

“Fucking hell, Xilä-”

“Why won’t you go on the trip?”

“Because the last time I left for a trip without you, you were fucking kidnapped, beaten and traded as if you were fucking cattle! You were left in the clutches of a lunatic who wanted to claim you! And I- I almost lost you, Xilä! Do you know what that did to me?! How could you possibly think I could leave you again? And worse yet- for an entire fucking month?!” 

There it was. 

Neteyam abruptly stood and made a beeline for the partition that separated their room from the rest of the tent- hair flying behind him. “I need a minute. Don’t follow me out.” 

Ears burning hot from the intensity of the moment, Xilä stared at where her husband had disappeared and began to silently count- a tactic she’d learnt from Mo’at over the years to aid with her anxiety. 

She’d barely gotten to one hundred when he returned- far more calmer and looking a whole lot guilty after his outburst. 

“Come here,” he said gently. 

Folding her into an all consuming embrace, he whispered a series of apologies against her forehead. He rarely ever lost his temper with her and the boys. It wasn’t him at all. 

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not. It’s not okay, Xi. I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one that pushed yo-”

“Hey,” he said, cutting her off, holding both sides of her face and staring at her with a seriousness that made her go quiet. “Let’s not play the self blaming game, okay?” 

In one swoop, he lifted her off the ground and carried them over to the hammock. With Xilä straddling his lap, there was no more escaping this conversation. He was ready to face it head on and get it over with.

Neteyam’s eyes traced over his wife, taking in her features. 

Her hair was short again- shoulder length like the time she’d gotten it cut when she’d first come to Home Camp. Pointed ears twitching in concern, her brows creased, moon colored eyes focused completely on him- and damn if he always got lost in them. He hated how sad they looked tonight. 

Cupping her cheek, his thumb brushed across the thin, faded scar that held the reminder of what he feared. 

They had talked about it- the incident- years ago when it first happened. They’d talked and wrapped it up, moved on, and never brought it up again. 

And while Xilä steadily tended to her mental wounds with the help of Mo’at, Neteyam still had a deep scar that unknowingly festered over the years. 

“So-” He blew out some air. “I know it’s been years but-” he shrugged, “guess I’m not entirely over that situation.” 

Xilä cupped his cheeks, leaning forward to give him a chase kiss. “And that’s okay… I don’t think shoving the past behind us and never looking back was the healthiest way to go. I know this is tough for you, but we can work on it. Together.” 

“How?”

“By talking… We don’t have to go that deep into it tonight, but eventually we will. And eventually you’ll open up. You’ll heal and be able to let go.”

“Okay,” he rasped, palms rubbing her thighs as though trying to comfort himself. 

“For now though, what would you say I can do to make you comfortable enough to go on the trip?”

Neteyam thought about it for a moment. 

“Maybe you can stay with my parents? You and the boys... Jxo and Sal are great but- I think having my parents closer would be a little more assuring for me.”

Xi nodded. She’d dare not bring up the fact that his parents lived only a few tents away from them. “We can do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. They have more than enough room and I’ll still have help whenever I need it. Tuk I’m sure would be delighted to have the boys to fuss over and boss around.” 

“That too,” he said, cracking a smile. 

“Anything else?”

“I want to talk to you every day- even if it’s just for two minutes to simply hear your voice.” 

Xilä didn’t think it was possible to fall even more in love with her husband. 

Yet here he was.

Proving her wrong. 

“Maybe you can bribe Norm to let me borrow one of those handy communication things so I don’t have to walk to the labs every day.”

“That, I can definitely do, sweetheart.” 

Xi fiddled with one of his hands- a habit she’d never broken out of over the years.

“I’m truly not trying to get rid of you.”

“I know- shit. I just said that in the moment. I don’t really think that, Xi.”

She gave him a wry smile. “The truth is- and as creepy as this might sound, if it were possible, I’d crawl into your skin and never leave you.”

Neteyam laughed. He knew what she meant. Sometimes he felt the same way.

“But in the same breath, I don’t want you to live in fear because of me. It’s hampering your dreams, ‘Teyam. Your goals... Jake is getting ready to step down in a couple of years, and you’re going to be Olo'eyktan.”

She pressed a palm to his chest. 

“I am your wife. And I will stand by your side even when we disagree. But this is one thing I won’t let you slip up on. Okay?” 

“How in Eywa’s name did I get so lucky? Where did I find you?” 

Xi shrugged playfully. “In the forest screaming my head off. You killed the palulukan who was chasing after me, then whisked me away and took me to your home.”

He laughed again but this time it ended in a groan. His head fell into her neck. “A month is way too long to be away from you, baby. It takes a week alone by ikran to get to Hulanta.”

“You can ask Stevan to join the trip earlier than planned? Go by jet instead?” 

One of the main reasons for the trip anyway was to check out a massive, old RDA base that had been set up near a Hulanta village. There was apparently an entire fleet of abandoned aircrafts waiting to be fixed up and used. 

“True,” he agreed.

“So it’s settled then? You’ll go and delegate your butt off and make me and your parents and our boys proud of you?”

Neteyam nodded against her skin. “Yeah, baby. I’ll go.” He ran a thumb along the side of her stomach. “You still wanna wait till I get back to tell everyone?” 

“Mmm. I can get away with hiding my bump by wearing my longer tops and higher skirts, but if I’m going to be staying with your parents for a month, they’re bound to pick up on my morning sickness.” 

“I bet you’d want to tell your mom and sister first.”

“Yeah,” Xi confirmed.

“Are we done fighting?” Neteyam wondered after they agreed to tell their families the good news a week before he had to leave. 

“Yes,” Xi grinned, knowing why he was asking. 

She squealed when he flipped them around, sighing as his lips pressed against her neck and he slipped a knee between her thighs. 

Sometimes good things come from a fight. 

Like improved communication…

The validation of feelings… 

And mind blowing make-up sex.

~

~

On his third day at the Hulanta clan while he and Tiaru- the clan’s chief were in deep discussion as they made rounds near the tree of souls, a familiar shade of blue caught his eye. 

Neteyam blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. But… he wasn’t. And in seeing the Na’vi all the more clearly, he inhaled sharply.

“What is it?” Tiaru asked, alerted by the shock on his face.

And although Neteyam was sure who she might be, he still asked…

“Who is that Li’onan woman?” 

~

Hehe... I had to throw in a little bit of a fight there. I love a good healthy communication moment honestly.

And, gasp. Who IS that Li'onan woman???

Also, you guys, Zyden is growing up? And what do we think of sweet little Hysik?

Anywhoo, see y'all in my next one! 💛

~

Tags:@jakesullyfatjuicypeen@granddearduck@riatesullironalite@strawberri-blonde@earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop@blkmystery@neteswife@luvteyams@isnt-itstrange@erenjaegerwifee@faatxma@ivysully@bakugouswaif@pinkpantheris @mntx666@ironcaptainnataliabarnes

[lecliss]

Now here comes the part where I huff soooooo much copium expecting another hint at Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo and more Deepground content. Deepground at least has a chance, but I can't see the triplets being hinted at again without the Whispers and who knows if those'll ever appear again since they were defeated. Well, Seph, I'm gonna need ya to make some kids REAL fast. I will die if I don't see my most specialist of boys in some way.

[indigodawns]

.

[cosmojjong]

my grandpa ended up passing away only 11 days after i saw him and what hurts most right now is trying to deal with such a sudden loss and the fact that i can't go to his funeral. i don't know what to do with myself

[sufficientlylargen]

It always gets me that the name "Gandalf" literally just means "Wand-Elf" or "Stick-Elf". I'm imagining old Gondorians just being like:

Librarian: I saw that weird guy at the library again today.

Guard 1: What weird guy?

Librarian: The old guy with the beard? Kinda elfy-looking, apart from the beard?

Guard 1: Oh, with the big-ass stick?

Librarian: Yeah, looked like he was carrying an entire tree branch.

Guard 2: Yeah, that's the Stick Elf.

Guard 1: Hell yeah, I fuckin' love the Stick Elf.

Librarian: The "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: He comes by every few years, usually after some weird book or other.

Librarian: Oh. Yeah, he wanted a treatise on goblin breeding habits.

Guard 2: Like, how they have sex? We have books on that?

Librarian: Yeah, turns out we do. I was as surprised as you are.

Guard 1: What'd the Stick Elf need a fuckin' goblin-fuckin' book for?

Librarian: I didn't ask. So you just call him "Stick Elf"?

Guard 2: I mean, he looks kinda elfy and he always has that stick, so, like, yeah.

Guard 1: Dude also has some fuckin' dope pipeweed.

Guard 2: Oh yeah, his pipeweed is awesome.

Librarian: How long has he been coming here?

Guard 2: Oh, for decades. He's, like, super old.

Guard 1: More like fuckin' centuries. Dude's old as balls.

Guard 2: Wait, really?

Guard 1: Yeah, my gran-gran used to talk about him. She loved his pipeweed too.

Librarian: So he's… an immortal pipeweed dealer?

Guard 2: I think he's just, like, a connoisseur. He doesn't sell it or anything. He just always has some really top-notch pipeweed on him.

Archivist: Oh, are we talking about Stick Elf?

Guard 1: Hell yeah we are!

Librarian: You know about the Stick Elf, too?

Archivist: Oh, totally. Stick-Elf's a super chill dude. Gave me some awesome pipeweed when I was maybe 12, and tee-bee-aitch I think I'm still a little buzzed from it.

Guard 1: What'd I tell ya, fuckin' dope pipeweed!

Archivist: Also he's really old.

Guard 1: Old as balls.

Librarian: Yeah, so Éodan and Jenniforomir were telling me.

Archivist: My grandpa used to tell me stories - he said one time he saw Stick Elf enter a smoke-ring contest.

Guard 1: Ooh, I'll bet he kicked fuckin' ass.

Archivist: Apparently the guy made an entire warship out of smoke and it flew around shooting down the other rings.

Librarian: And how much of this "fuckin' dope" pipeweed had your grandfather had by this point?

Guard 1: No no, that's totally plausible. Dude's got weird elf powers and shit for sure.

Archivist: He brought fireworks for the king's birthday one year, too.

Guard 1: Oh fuck, I forgot about those! Fuckin' incredible fireworks! Dragons and knights and glowy trees and shit! I was fuckin' 6 years old or something, they totally blew my mind. Hey Éodan, did you see that shit?

Guard 2: No, I think that's before I lived in Gondor.

Guard 1: Wait, you're not from here?

Guard 2: Oh, no, I grew up in Rohan. We moved here when I was, like, thirteen because my uncle Éojeff said he could get my dad a sweet job. And also that there were houses that didn't smell like horseshit.

Guard 1: Oh shit, are you related to Éojeff and Éosteve who run that æbleskiver stand on Norndîl St?

Guard 2: Yeah, they're my uncles!

Guard 1: Shit, they cook a fuckin' great æbleskiver!

Librarian: Ok, hold up a sec, "Stick Elf" can't possibly be his real name.

Guard 1: Why not?

Librarian: What? You think his parents named him in the hopes that he would carry around a fucking tree when he got older?

Guard 2: Maybe they gave him the tree when he was born!

Archivist: I don't think a baby could carry that stick.

Guard 1: You ever seen a baby hanging onto something? They're hella strong.

Archivist: It's not a strength thing, their hands are tiny. That staff is enormous!

Guard 1: My halberd's bigger 'n I am, I can hold it just fine.

Archivist: You're not a baby.

Librarian: Also why would elf parents name their kid "stick ELF"?! Presumably they know that their kid's going to be an elf!

Archivist: Is he actually an elf? I didn't think they grew beards.

Guard 1: How'd he get old as balls if he's not an elf?

Guard 2: His ears aren't that pointy. Maybe he's just a really old guy? Like, a Numémoriam or something?

Guard 1: Did you just say "Numémoriam"?

Guard 2: Nûnenorman? Munimõrbitan? Y'know, those guys like the king that can get super old.

Guard 1: You mean the fuckin' Númenóreans?

Guard 2: Yeah, the Númenóreums.

Archivist: Even the Númenóreans don't live THAT long.

Guard 1: Plus he carries that fuckin' stick around.

Guard 2: Wait, what does the stick have to do with it?

Guard 1: That's an elf thing. Y'know, trees and shit? Very elfy.

Librarian: Ok, look, but his parents naming him "Stick Elf" would be weird whether or not he's an elf. In fact, it's even weirder if he's not - what human names their kid "elf"?

Archivist: Huh. Yeah, you're right, he probably does have another name.

Guard 2: Yeah, I guess so.

Librarian: He's been coming here for decades and nobody's ever asked his real name?

Archivist: I dunno what to tell you, he's Stick Elf. Even his library card just says 'Stick Elf'.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah, the Stick Elf!

Guard 2: Maybe we could, like, ask him his name sometime?

Guard 1: Hey, look, Elrond's over there. He's old as balls too, maybe he knows?

Guard 2: Oh, we shouldn't interru-

Guard 1: HEY ELROND, YOU'RE OLD AS BALLS, RIGHT? WHAT'S THAT OLD ELF WITH THE STICK'S NAME?

Elrond (coming over): Do you mean an old man cloaked all in grey and blue, leaning on a rough-cut staff, who came to the great library this day?

Guard 1: Yeah, the Stick-Elf!

Guard 2: (Sorry to bother you, sir...)

Librarian: He's got to have a real name besides 'the Stick Elf', right?

Elrond: Indeed, for no elf is he. You speak of the wizard Olórin, wisest of the Maiar, older even than Eä itself. Many are his names in many countries: Tharkûn among the Dwarves; Incánus to the south; Mithrandir he is called among my people, the Grey Pilgrim.

Librarian: Oh.

Elrond: And here in the North he is called Stick-Elf.

Librarian: Oh.

Guard 1: Fuck yeah!

[iknityounot]

(Long post, sorry y'all)

A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.

In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.

She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.

Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.

After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:

DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.

Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!

So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.

Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.

At the end of August, the blanket was done!

I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)

She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 

She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.

And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.

Five stars, absolutely worth it!

(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)

[sapsolais]

<3

[kcrabb88]

It's truly wild to me how many people out there don't understand that the Star Wars prequels are a tragedy or how tragedies work.

Posts like "these are the Jedi failed movies" truly just make me shake my head. They're actually the "fascism wears a smile until it strikes you down and then it's too late" movies. They're the "the senate became corrupt and clapped in the face of genocide" movies. They're the "make people scared enough of war until they accept authoritarianism" movies. They're the "fear and possessiveness will tear you up on the inside" movies. The Jedi were the heroes of lore, people loved and looked up to them, looked to them for safety, and then too much got put on their shoulders on purpose by Palpatine, and also by a senate that didn't want to act (not you Padme and Bail and Mon, you're perfect). They were drafted and used and scapegoated, which is, you know, a tenet of the vast majority of authoritarian governments (Hitler and Stalin, for instance, might be on different ends of the political spectrum, but they sure both did scapegoat specific groups and commit mass murder, just differently).

When some people say "these movies are about the fall of the Jedi" what they mean is "the Jedi failed" but that's not what "the fall of the Jedi means." It means they were wiped the fuck OUT. Like, Jesus, in Rogue One Tarkin is talking about burning out the final MEMORY of the Jedi by blowing up the holy city in Jedha. Palpatine had to get rid of the Jedi because to get rid of the Jedi was to get rid of the final people standing in his way after he had already worn them out. His intention was not only to kill them, but to alter the galaxy's entire perception of them. To rip away hope. People are always looking for the Jedi to be Bad or nitpick their mistakes (because while other people are allowed to make mistakes, the Jedi never are). Palpatine made himself look like a benevolent grandpa who would keep everyone safe. And that, more than anything, is what gave him SO much power. He stole the narrative.

It's just like. Of course WE know what was going to happen! We know from watching the OT that the PT can only end in tragedy. But the characters don't know that! They don't have all the info! That's how a tragic story structure works. We see it coming and they can't.

Anyway. The Jedi are laser-sword wielding monks with psychic powers who just wanted to do what they could to help. The world would be better if more folks remembered that.

[emphistic]

Sight for Sore Eyes

Taglist: @starlets-things

Sukuna was exhausted, to say the least. His coach was being such a pain in the ass. But, as soon as he unlocked the front door and entered the living room, he was immediately alleviated.

Like most nights where Sukuna had basketball practice, you were given the job of babysitting his brother, Yuuji.

"Gotcha!" You scooped up the little critter in your arms and kissed his chubby cheeks. Sukuna assumed you two were playing a game of hide-and-seek, or something of the like.

"You wish that was you, huh?" His grandpa asked him, before patting him on the back and walking upstairs. Sukuna didn't respond, continuing to stare at you instead.

Yuuji squealed and giggled, squirming in your grasps. But when the kid noticed his brother standing by the door, his expression dropped.

You placed the pink-haired boy on the ground, wondering if he had gotten sick of you. "Hmm? What's the matter, Yuuji?"

"Are you going to go now?" Yuuji looked up at you with doe eyes, and clutched onto the material of your sweat pants.

"Why would I do that?"

Yuuji wrapped his little arms around your leg, "I don't want you to go."

You raised a brow, still unsure of what caused this sudden change in Yuuji's attitude.

A loud "ahem" broke the silence, and you turned to the source; Sukuna was home.

You bent down and picked up Yuuji, placing him on your hip, before walking over to his older brother. "Hello, my cute patootie." You kissed Sukuna on the cheek, in greeting.

He grunted, but pulled you back in for another ardent kiss, "I'll kill you one day," he mumbled against your lips. You tasted the chapstick, that you had recently bought for Sukuna, on his lips.

You laughed, "I'd like to see you try."

Yuuji interrupted the two of you guys by pushing his brother away with his little hands, "No, 'Kuna." Yuuji's eyebrows furrowed; making him look mad, and he buried his face into your chest, seeking your warmth.

Sukuna raised a brow at the little nuisance, "Oh? Looks like I have some competition now."

"Yuuji," you said, softly, "you know I have to leave now. Your brother's home, so he can take care of you, okay?"

The boy in your arms whined, completely ignoring your attempt of coaxing him. Sukuna laughed at his brother, and you frowned at him.

"Y'know," Sukuna crept impossibly closer to you, "you could just stay the night, right? It'll make Yuuji feel better, and me, too. You don't want Yuuji to be upset, do you?"

You acknowledged the fact that Sukuna was using his brother to guilt trip you, but you didn't care. Spending time with the Itadori brothers was always fun, not to mention, a little chaotic at times.

You huffed, "Fine."

Sukuna looked smug, at your response. "I'm gonna take a shower now. Care to join?"

You bit your lip in contemplation, looking between Yuuji, who was still snuggling in your sweater, and Sukuna, who held the most jerk-like expression on his face.

Sighing, you gave in, "I'll be there in a minute."

[pomegranatesarchive]

head over heels | cl16 mv1 op81

charles leclerc, oscar piastri, max verstappen x reader

a ferrari driver, a mclaren driver, and a redbull driver all interested in the same girl…this won’t end well.

notes: i decided to make this a series! now should i make this poly?…

liked by patriciooward, redbullracing, user1, and 43,917 others!

yourusername: what a better place to have your first day then good ol’ texas! formula one here i come 🤠

view comments below!

user2: omg i totally forgot you are going to start interviewing for f1

user3: DUDE ME TOO

user4: im so excited!! i hope she does challenges like she did with indycar

patriciooward: what a coincidence! i just happen to be in texas too!!

yourusername; you followed me here, stalker 😣

patriciooward: LIES! i am here for a JOB

yourusername: well so am I

patriciooward: YOU ALWAYS COPY ME

user5: indycar, i will never forgive you for separating these too

indycar: come back to us 🥹

user6: YOU FIRED HER???

user7: first you fire her because she asked for a raise AND THEN you get in her comment section talking about ‘come back’ yall are SICK

user8: SHE DIDNT EVEN ASK FOR A RAISE!! she was offered more by f1 and instead of fighting back, indycar just decided to fire her??? like???

user9: companies will always prove that they do not gaf about you

liked by yourusername

user10: wtv, yn onto BIGGER and BETTER things

user11: when are you going to start posting on youtube again? 😣 we miss you :(

yourusername: sooner then you think!!

user12: you fit in with the texans so well

user13: yeehaw! 🤠

user14: congratulations on the new job!! i hope your first day goes well :))

user15: first days always make me so nervous

liked by user16, and 81,720 others!

kymillman: formula one driver down!

a mere seconds after this photo was taken, charles leclerc took a tumble on the texas pavement, following a tiny interaction with a new worker here on the track 😉 landing face first and awkwardly trying to play it off.

he is okay! just a bruised ego

view comments below!

user17: this is embarrassing, even for charles

user18: when i’m in a who can embarrass themselves more contest, but charles is already there

user19: IN FRONT OF A PRETTY GIRL TOO?? no you’d never see my face again

user20: it was BECAUSE of the pretty girl 😭 she smiled at him and suddenly was on the ground

user21: that’s humiliating

user22: i keep watching the video…why do his legs just like, give out?

user23: THERES A VIDEO?

user24: ig being a f1 driver doesn’t give you game

user25: this means max is going to win come sunday

user26: okay grandpa…how about we get you back to bed?

user27: i need yns reaction to this

user28: i think the worst part is that she didn’t even notice he fell…

user29: pls tell me your joking

user30: no 😭 she just walked away and didn’t spare him a single glance

user31: i needed this today…thank you

user32: i love to see the ferrari fall

user32: no pun intended

user33: the video just gave me the biggest second hand embarrassment

user32: i actually cringed into myself.

user33: it’s him getting up and looking around to see if anyone saw that gets me

user34: i hope this gets brought up multiple times during the weekend

liked by user34, and 491,017 others!

maxvertappen1: feels good to be back on the top step in the sprint 💪 onwards to qualifying, let's keep pushing @:redbullracing 👊

view comments below!

user36: are you not ashamed? are you not embarrassed?

user37: have you no shame, max?

user38: guys i’m so confused

user39: this weekend has been so crazy

user40: what’s going on?

user46: your cardboard cut out is sleeping on the couch tonight.

user43: GUYS WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. I FEEL LEFT OUT AND I DO NOT LIKE IT.

user44: max was flirting with an interviewer today.

user43: WHAT

user45: was he flirting? or was he just being nice and yall are making it a big deal 🙄

user44: when the interview was over he stayed in his spot staring at the woman until she gave him attention and then asked her if she was new.

user44: she said yes and asked if it was that obvious. he said, “to me, yes.” AND THEN blushed when the interviewer reminded him that she did in fact have others to interview

user44: AND THEN, told her, “if you need any help around the paddock, let me know.”

user45: okay so maybe he was flirting 🙄

user46; what’s the big deal guys? let max get some with out you guys embarrassing him!

user48: HES embarrassing HIMSELF. does he not have decorum? self respect?

user49: okay but was the interviewer into it??

liked by user50, landonorris, and 14,926 others!

f1gossip: as austin comes to an end, i would like to reminisce that these three men, managed to flirt with the same girl (an interviewer, as a matter of fact), in a span of three days. do they know they are flirting with the same girl? are they into that? or is this all just a hilarious incident?

view comments below!

user51: this is the funniest thing to happen all weekend

user52: i see max and charles doing this, but OSCAR??

user53: yns following went up by 20k

user54: I WAS THERE WHEN SHS WAS AT LESS THEN 4k, SHE BETTER NOT FORGET ME!!!

user55: people still don’t even know who she is 😖 they keep calling her ‘the interviewer’

user56: i hope she doesn’t get hate for this…

user57; to be fair oscar could’ve just been being nice?? like taking a photo for someone doesn’t mean you’re into them

user58: i could not survive as an f1 driver

user59: like imagine your just tryna flirt with a girl, and suddenly it’s all over the internet of how embarrassingly you failed (max)

user60: it’s yns first race and this is how it goes??

user61: that interviewer is soo lucky

user62: okay but if you were the interviewer, who would you pick?

user63: max

user64: oscar 100000%

user65: charles, are you guys crazy?

user66: lando

user67: that wasn’t a option?…

user66: i don’t care

user67: has nobody realized that lando liked this 😭?

oscarpiastri has followed yourusername!

charles_leclerc has followed yourusername!

maxvertaappen1 has followed yourusername!

[sinofwriting]

4 plus 1 - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 1,499 Summary: Four times Logan celebrated mothers day and the first time he celebrated fathers day (part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

One

The first time Logan celebrated Mother’s Day, he was five. His grandpa had stolen him away from his momma, which had made him pout, but then he had crouched down in front of him and quietly asked if he wanted to buy his momma a present for Mother’s Day.

His grandpa, whenever he told the story, always liked to joke that he was surprised that Logan’s head hadn’t fallen off with how hard he had nodded yes.

He had gotten taken to the store where Logan picked out a card that apparently said world’s best mom on it, which had made his grandpa grumble that he was way too young for his daughter to be a mom before letting him pick out a big bouquet of flowers.

Scrambling out of the car and into the house, Logan struggled to hold the flowers that were nearly bigger than him and the card, just barely able to see the way his momma’s jaw had dropped seeing him and the ways tears came to her eyes when he cheerfully wished her a happy momma’s day.

Two

In 2014, Logan got to celebrate mother’s days twice for the first time. His momma not even knowing or realizing that England celebrated it on a completely different day, her bemused expression at him giving her candy and a card staying in his mind.

She had still hugged him tight, pressing kisses all over his face and telling him she was the best son, which had made him squirm, telling her that she was the best momma, the two going back and forth until Logan gave up because she had started to tickle him and his stomach ached from laughing.

Three

Logan stares at the display in front of him, trying not to feel awkward with the eyes boring into him.

“Dude, these are like fifteen grand.” Oscar hisses under his breath.

“Yeah and none of them are the one.” He hisses back, giving the employee a polite smile. “Do you have anything else?”

Their eyes narrow a little, but they nod, an emotionless smile on their face. “Of course, Sir. Our next display.”

Following them over to the next display, his eyes immediately land on a necklace and he instantly points at it. “That one. I’ll take that one, please.”

“Are you sure?”

He frowns, “Yes. I’m sure.”

He turns to Oscar as they start to open the case. “Momma is gonna love that one.”

“Do you have the money for that?”

“Of course.”

Oscar’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure? Because if those were twenty thousand, I can’t imagine how much these will be.”

Logan nods, shrugging. “Yeah. I’ve got money.”

The clearing of a throat makes Logan turn back around, the necklace is sitting on the counter in its opened box.

“This necklace is forty thousand pounds.”

Logan hears Oscar taking in a sharp breath of air, but Logan is already reaching for his wallet. “I’ll take it. And no gift wrap please.”

They blink at him before nodding. “Of course.”

Oscar hits his arm when they disappear with the necklace behind a curtain.

“Are you kidding me? Forty thousand pounds for a necklace? Pan is going to kill you! Mother’s Day gift or not!”

Logan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m eighteen now and it’s my money. Momma can’t kill me for buying her this. Besides, I haven’t given her a gift under a thousand dollars since I was like six. And she’ll love that necklace.”

Oscar looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head. “Okay, it is way too easy to forget that Harry is a billionaire and by proxy you are.”

“Something tells me you don’t want to know how much your birthday present was.”

“What does that mean?”

Logan smiles at Oscar, shrugging.

“Logan, what does that mean?”

Four

“Can I help with anything?”

Logan jumps at the sound of Max’s voice, nearly banging his head into the opened cupboard door if not for Max, quickly yanking him back.

“Shit.” He curses, turning Logan around and running a hand over his forehead and head, checking for bumps. “You okay?”

“I’m okay. You just scared me.” He chuckles. “Help with what?”

Max eyes him for a moment. “Mother’s Day. I know that it’s in between Miami and Imola for you guys, and I didn’t know if you wanted help with anything.”

“Oh.”

Logan looks at the older man, he doesn’t need any help with Mother’s Day. Already has his momma’s gift sitting in his closet, but Max is asking if he can help. Max cares about their relationship, so he finds himself nodding.

“Actually yeah.”

Max’s whole face lights up. “What can I do?”

Logan quickly says goodbye to his momma’s Christmas gift, but he guesses that what was supposed to be her Mother’s Day can just be her Christmas gift. “There’s this watch she likes, but there’s maybe ten available in the world right now.” He starts to tell Max.

Plus One

Logan has never had a father. And as much as he loves his grandpa, he wasn’t really a father figure for him. The closest he got was maybe Oscar’s dad, but even then he never really saw him enough for that. Max though… Max feels like his dad.

He cares about him, and not just because he’s dating his mom. He talks to Logan, checks in on him, before the first session of every day, Max always ducks into the Williams garage to hug him. He brings him water every time he does media, even when he isn’t scheduled for media for a few hours.

It hasn’t yet been a year, but Logan already can tell he’s fighting a losing battle of not just calling Max his dad. And he knows that Max hasn’t let himself think of himself like that. He’s heard him call him his kid a hundred times, but never once has he called himself Logan’s parent or dad. Always respecting the relationship between his mom and him and the boundaries that Logan has set.

But Logan wants Max to call himself Logan’s dad. Wants to call Max dad to his face and not just to Oscar when he’s too tired to filter or to the media to make the journalists go a little crazy.

So he finds himself laying on the couch, head in his momma’s lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Can we talk?”

“Always.”

His lips quirk up a bit at the quick response. “It’s about Max.”

Her fingers still for just a second before resuming. “What about Max?”

Her voice is measured, smooth, and it gives Logan the courage to say the next words. “I want to call Max dad.” His voice goes quiet. “I want him to be my dad.”

“Oh, baby.” And her voice breaks around the words.

He sits up to look at her. “Are you mad?”

“No.” She smiles, reaching forward to cup his face. “No, baby. Not at all. I’m happy. I’m so happy.”

“So, it’s okay?”

She laughs, her free hand brushing away her tears. “Logan, you can call anyone you want dad, that’s not my choice, that’s yours.”

“Do you think he’ll be okay with it? I want to do it on Father’s Day. Give him a card too.”

“I think Max will be over the moon.”

A week later, Logan shuffles into the living room, a breakfast tray in his hands, where Max is sitting, watching the recap for Le Mans so far.

“Hi.” He greets.

Max smiles at him, “You didn’t need to bring me breakfast.”

He shakes his head, stopping Max from getting up. “I wanted to. It’s a special day.”

“I mean, Le Mans isn’t this kind of special.”

Logan huffs out a laugh, handing over the tray to Max, who places it on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him.

“Get enough sleep?”

Logan nods, running a hand through his hair, the other clutching at the card he has for Max. “Wasn’t too bad. I actually have something else for you, because y’know special day.”

Max’s eyebrows raise and Logan can feel nerves fill him. “I still have no idea what you are talking about.”

He shrugs and after a moment he passes over the card, carefully watching Max’s face.

Max looks delighted at getting handed the card, but Logan can see the moment he realizes what kind of card it is. His eyes going wide, his whole body stilling. The room would be quiet if not for the Le Mans highlights playing.

The older man carefully opens it up after a long moment, his breath catching as he reads the written words from Logan.

“Logan,” he starts, and his voice is thick.

“Happy Father’s Day, dad.” Logan speaks before he can say anything else.

“Come here.” He finishes, opening his arms, and Logan dives into them. “I love you so much, kid. So fucking much. I’m gonna be the best dad for you.”

“You already are.”

[bovineblogger]

Just wanted to pitch my two cents in response to the previous anon! Hi friend, I know for a lot of us who get our food shrink wrapped and packaged at the grocery store it’s mind boggling to even imagine there’s a healthy way of animal husbandry.

I grew up in The Big City™️ but was raised by my grandparents. They grew up farming (just crops, their families were too poor to own livestock or purchase meat/milk/eggs) and taught me to have an incredible respect for where food comes from. We grew our own crops in the tiny backyard, composted, and did aquaculture even before I knew what it was. We bought our smaller meat from the local butcher minimally processed. You had to debone and process the whole chicken, fish, rabbit, frogs, etc. Grandpa traded his veggies for different fruits with the other oldies. Grandma made her own wine and yogurt. And I’ve worked and volunteered at animal shelters and wildlife rescue/rehab centers growing up. I still compost nearly all of my food waste. Even then, I didn’t truly understand the extent to which a properly cared for animal farm could be healthy and ethical.

Until I met one of my previous partners that is. They grew up in an incredibly rural area on a family farm that had animals, including a herd of cows for meat. They hunted, but always to protect the livestock and made use of the animals they killed/sold them to others in town who would. It seemed so counterintuitive to my sensibilities and raised my hackles at first. How could you say you love animals and do that? But I began asking questions…for hours and hours because it was nothing I’d been exposed to.

The way they and their family cared for/revered their animals seemed almost religious to me when I first encountered it. From the time they were kids, it was always the animals’ chores first. You woke up but fed and milked the cows before you made yourself breakfast. They made blankets for the animals and read to them. You gave the herd everything they needed and then some. If something in the barn needed fixing, that would happen first before new windows for the house. The animals had their own things and toys and treats. It was love! There were never cattle prods or whips or any of the machinery you associate with industrial farming. The animals would greet them happily every morning. They loved and trusted their people back enough to be naughty a way a pampered cat is. It really sunk in when I stood next to a cow for the first time — there’s nothing that would stop that animal from harming you, especially if you were a kid, unless it respected you and loved you back.

(They once told me the story of how some large predator like a bear or wolf tried to sneak into the pasture at night. The family woke up there next morning to a furry pancake that had been utterly stomped into the ground by the herd.)

A whole lifetime later, they can still remember the names, personalities, and stories of all the animals they raised. I would get bored and try to list off random names as a game to see if they ever had an animal called that, actually. But the thing that initially shocked (and stuck with me the most) was that when they’d take an older cow to the butcher, they would get packages of meat back labeled with that animal’s name. But it wasn’t ever scary or traumatizing for the kids. They always knew where food was from. Sometimes they were even there helping when that animal was born in the barn. What that did was give them an incredible sense of care, respect, and duty for those animals. When they had dinner that night, they would say grace and mean it in a way you only could if you viewed that animal as an equal family member. I was raised religious, but had never heard grace said like that, with that amount of genuine intent until I ate dinner with them. It used to be just something I did, just going through the motions.

That being said, yes it would probably be the most bio energy efficient/less emissions heavy if the whole world shifted away from a meat-based diet. But ideal isn’t always realistic/something we can achieve overnight. Meat alternatives are often expensive or time consuming to prepare (like beans/legumes). The way I see it, this blog is part of a harm reduction approach in facilitating an appreciation/love/education for livestock and then encouraging people to seek out more mindful sources of meat, like some local farms. We’ve seen time and time again, shame/blame are far less effective in getting people to re-examine their worldviews than education and love.

thank you so much for this ask, this is so so so so so lovely!!! i feel like a lot of people that arent farmers or dont have farmers in their family dont really understand just how much love is there.

[starkeyisthelastname]

Okay but forreal… how would it go down if babydoll’s dad caught trailer park!rafe defiling his precious daughter 😫 I can just imagine him getting more suspicious about the time his daughter is gone and one day he catches her walking into Rafe’s trailer and barges in their to see her getting absolutely defiled and disgraced by Rafe who would just smirk and be like “think it’s about time we tell him he’s gonna be a grandpa or what?” UGHHH HE’S SO MEAN I LUV HIM

uh oh 🤭

With you being pregnant, you had been spending nearly all your time over at Rafe’s. You weren’t very far along, your bump barely noticeable to most. You were in your own little world, happy as can be to be pregnant with Rafe’s baby and very hormonal. You were even more clingy with him, nearly had a meltdown when he left to go get beer one night and needed dick all the time.

Your father had been growing a little suspicious of you here recently as you seemed to never be home anymore. It was now the third day this week you hadn’t been at the trailer when he had gotten off work and he couldn’t get past it. So much so he got in his truck and began slowly driving down the road to see if you were around the park anywhere. Surely he had nothing to worry about and you were just finishing up handing out the cookies you liked to make for everyone.

He was about to turn around when he spotted a flash of pink at one of a familiar trailer. His eyes widened in a flash of horror as he saw you walking into the run down dump that was Rafe Cameron’s. The same man that never paid rent on time, had a major attitude problem and got drunk all day off of cheap beer. What was his innocent daughter doing anywhere around that piece of trash? Your father didn’t know what he had expected to see when he barged in Rafe’s trailer door, but it definitely wasn’t you on that filthy man’s lap doing things he never thought you would ever partake in. He didn’t even have words to process the sight he saw in front of him.

You were so incredibly needy, Rafe’s huge cock stretching your leaking hole as he whispered dirty words in your ear. His large hands gripped your waist that was barely starting to round out, reminding himself you were indeed knocked up with his baby. He smiled at the thought, facial hair tickling your neck as you threw your head back against his broad shoulder. “Such a desperate little thing for cock now that I got you pregnant, huh?” His voice rough as you had barely walked through the front door before he had your pretty little pink dress up as you were begging to be filled.

It was the door slamming open that made his blue eyes look up an instant look of gratification on his face as he saw your father standing there in shock. You were so cock drunk too, that you couldn’t do anything but sit there and continue to take it up your fluttering cunt. He let out a small laugh, staring the old man right in the face as he continued to thrust upward. He was sick for doing this, but then again really gave zero fucks. He wanted this to happen, to finally show that miserable bastard that he had ownership of your sugary sweet self now.

“Well look who it is babydoll. Takin’ a bad man’s dick up your little fuckhole for your pops to finally see. Should we tell him he’s gonna be a grandpa?” Rafe’s voice raspy as your beautiful moans still echoed off the trailer walls. Oh he had you completely ruined and he was loving every dirty second of it. Here you were taking dick up your pretty cunt that he had broken open and nutted into, now to only be a hormonal mess that couldn’t get anything out but “Fuck me..”

[adrienneleclerc]

Día de Muertos

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Mexican! Reader

Summary: Per Mexican tradition, Y/N makes an altar for her family members that passed away. She added Charles’s family members as well

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, death, inaccuracies

A/N: This was the first time I put up an ofrenda and since today is Day of the Dead, it’s fitting

The best thing about dating a Formula 1 driver is the traveling. Y/N joined Charles in all his races, mainly because she is able to work from home as an event planner. So when they were in Mexico City for the Grand Prix, she bought papel picado, sugar skulls, and little dog alebrijes. Now that they are in Brazil, Y/N bought candles, a table cloth, marigolds, and printed out photos to set up the altar.

Y/N made it back to the hotel while Charles was in the track for free practice. She placed the table cloth over the hotel room desk, added the papel picado and marigold before placing the photos in the place card holder. There was one of her aunt that died from cancer, her grandpa that died of old age, Jules, and Hervé. Onces the little altar was set up exactly how she wanted it, she placed the candles near their photos and added the sugar skulls and alebrijes wherever there was an empty space.

Though Y/N wasn’t in Mexico anymore, there are Mexican restaurants in Brazil and she ordered her aunt’s and grandpa’s favorite food plus pan de muerto to have it delivered to the hotel. There was a knock on the door and when Y/N opened it, expecting to see a hotel employee with Mexican food, she saw her boyfriend.

“Muñeco, i thought you would still be in the track.” Y/N said, charles leaned in and kissed Y/N on the cheek before walking into their hotel room.

“We finished, what’s all this?” Charles asked, pointing to the table.

“Right. Well, today is day of the dead and usually I’m in my apartment to make this ofrenda but now I’m dating you so I brought the ofrenda with me.” Y/N explained but Charles looked confused. “Um, it’s an altar, it’s a way to honor my dead relatives and welcome their spirits to our home. I usually go all out but this is a hotel room and I don’t want the fire alarm to go off.” Y/N explained and Charles looked closer at the ofrenda and saw a picture of Jules and another one of his father.

“You put them up?” Charles asked in a whisper, he felt his eyes getting teary, picking up the photo of him and his dad.

“I know you miss them a lot, everything you are doing in formula 1 in for them, I thought it would be nice to add them to the ofrenda. I know this isn’t really your tradition but it’s mine and I want to share it with you.” Y/N said softly, Charles looked at her and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you, Mon ange, that is very sweet of you, really.” Charles said.

“Um, it’s tradition to add their favorite food on the altar. I ordered some Mexican for my aunt and grandpa, what did Jules and your dad like to eat?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t think we could get it here but they liked…” Charles told Y/N their favorite foods.

“I’m sure we could order it from somewhere.” Y/N said. There was a knock and Y/N opened the door, it was the food she ordered. She got the food and gave the man a tip before walking back to Charles. “We also have this bread that’s called pan de muerto, we place it on the ofrenda too.”

“I’m sure they would enjoy the bread.” Charles said smiling. He opened the bag to help Y/N place the bread on the table. “So when we were is Mexico and you told me you were shopping, you were preparing for this?”

“Of course! I’m still Mexican, Muñeco, my tradition won’t change because I’m in another country.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. Y/N placed the food in front of her aunt’s and grandpa’s picture.

“Maybe next year you can put up the ofrenda in my place.” Charles said.

“You mean that?” Y/N asked.

“I do, we haven’t been dating long but I feel very happy with you, happier than I have been in a long time.” Charles said before he kissed Y/N softly.

“I feel happy with you too. Oh, do you want some bread? It’s really good.” Y/N said, grabbing a loaf (?) and offering it to charles.

“Sure.” Charles said, tearing off of a piece of bread to taste. He hummed in content. “This is really good, do they sell this a lot on Mexico for day of the dead?”

“Yes they do, Mexican bread is the best.” Y/N said,

“I Can tell. I’m going to send a picture of the altar to my mom, is that okay?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Y/N said and Charles took a picture of the altar, making sure Pascale could clearly see his dad and Jules. He sent it to his mom and got a response in 2 minutes.

“My mom said it’s very sweet and considerate of you to add my dad and Jules.” Charles said.

“I May not have met them but I know how much they mean to you, I couldn’t leave them out.” Y/N said, looking down all shy. Charles brought his his finger under her chin to make her look at him,

“I love you so much, thank you for this.” Charles said before kissing her deeply.

“Don’t mention it.” Y/N said as soon as they separated from the kiss. They hugged each other. “I think we should watch Coco.” Charles laughed at her suggestion. “Well how else are you supposed to get the day of the dead?”

“Fine, let’s see if you can connect you phone to the hotel TV.” Charles said.

And that’s how they spent Día de Muertos, watching Coco on Disney plus and eating pan de muerto.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

[sxcretricciardo]

not the same

•

The sun is shining brightly over the go-karting track, a perfect day for racing. The smell of burning rubber, the distant hum of engines revving, and the lively chatter of parents fill the air. You stand beside Max, watching your little boy, Leo, zip around the track with a focused expression that’s eerily similar to Max’s when he's behind the wheel. Leo's been karting since he could walk, and every time he hits the track, it’s like watching a younger version of Max, pure talent and determination radiating from him.

Max is beaming, pride visible in his eyes as he watches Leo expertly navigate the course. His hand rests on the small of your back, and you lean into him, feeling the excitement of the race. But today isn’t just any day. Jos, Max’s father, has come to watch his grandson for the first time. It’s a big moment, both for Leo and for Max, who has a complicated history with his dad.

The final lap is underway, and Leo is in second place. You can see how hard he’s pushing, how badly he wants that win. His little hands are gripping the steering wheel tightly, his helmet bobbing as he leans into each curve. But the kid in first place has just a little more speed, and as they cross the finish line, Leo’s kart comes in second.

You’re about to cheer for Leo anyway—second place is still amazing for a four-year-old—but before you can, you notice the tension stiffening Max beside you. His jaw clenches, and his eyes narrow. Jos is walking over to Leo’s kart, and you can feel the unease rolling off Max in waves.

Leo pulls off his helmet, his brown curls damp with sweat, and looks up at his grandfather, expecting praise or at least a smile. But Jos doesn’t offer either. Instead, his face is hard, disappointed.

“What happened out there?” Jos says, his voice low and sharp, just loud enough for Leo to hear.

Leo’s small face falls, his bright eyes clouding with confusion. He’s only four, too young to understand the weight behind the words, but he knows enough to feel the sting.

“I—I tried, Grandpa…” Leo stammers, looking down at his feet, his tiny hands fiddling nervously with his gloves. “I tried really hard…”

“You tried? That’s not good enough,” Jos snaps. “Your father wouldn’t settle for second place at your age. You need to push harder, be better.”

You feel your heart twist as Leo’s shoulders slump, his little body sinking under the weight of his grandfather’s disappointment. Before you can step in, Max is already there, his tall frame looming over his father protectively.

“Dad,” Max’s voice is low and dangerous, “back off.”

Jos straightens, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Max. “He needs to learn. You didn’t get to where you are by accepting second place, Max.”

“This isn’t about me, and it sure as hell isn’t about you,” Max says, stepping closer to his father, his hand on Leo’s shoulder now. “He’s *four*. He’s doing amazing, and I’m proud of him. You don’t get to tear him down the way you did with me.”

Leo looks up at Max, his big blue eyes—so much like his father’s—filled with uncertainty. “Daddy, I—”

Max kneels down in front of Leo, cutting off his words gently. “You did great today, Leo. You were fast, you were smart, and I’m so proud of you. It doesn’t matter if you came in second. What matters is that you gave it everything.”

Leo’s face brightens slightly, reassured by Max’s words. But Jos isn’t done.

“You’re too soft on him, Max. He needs to learn how to win, not just be content with second place. If you keep coddling him—”

“I’m not coddling him,” Max snaps, standing up again to face his father. His voice is colder now, angrier. “I’m teaching him that it’s okay to enjoy racing, that he doesn’t have to be perfect every time. He’s not me, Dad. And I won’t let you do to him what you did to me.”

Jos glares at Max, his expression hardening. “I made you a champion.”

“No,” Max says quietly, but with steel in his voice. “You made me scared of failing. I won’t let Leo feel that. He’s going to race because he loves it, not because he’s afraid of disappointing you.”

The tension between father and son crackles in the air, the years of unresolved resentment bubbling up to the surface. You step forward, placing a hand on Max’s arm, grounding him. You know how much it took for him to confront Jos like this, how deep those scars run.

Jos opens his mouth to argue, but then he looks at Leo, who’s clinging to Max’s leg, wide-eyed and unsure. Something shifts in Jos’s expression, a flicker of regret maybe, but it’s quickly masked by his usual stern demeanor.

“This is a mistake,” Jos mutters, shaking his head before turning away and walking off without another word.

Max lets out a long breath, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. But when he looks down at Leo, his expression softens immediately. He crouches down again, pulling Leo into a hug.

“You did awesome today, buddy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”

Leo nods against his father’s chest, his small arms wrapping tightly around Max. “Okay, Daddy. I just want to be fast like you.”

Max chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of Leo’s head. “You already are, kiddo.”

You kneel beside them, wrapping your arms around both of them, feeling the warmth and love in the moment, despite the lingering tension from Jos’s words.

Max meets your eyes over Leo’s head, and you can see the mixture of emotions there—anger, protectiveness, but most of all, a deep love for the family he’s built with you.

“He’s not going to grow up the way I did,” Max says softly, more to himself than to you, but you nod in agreement, squeezing his hand. “He’s going to grow up knowing he’s enough, no matter what.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the sound of engines still roaring on the track, you know that Max is right. Your little boy is loved, and that’s what matters most.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve knows the kids don't mean it when they make him feel stupid. Mostly because they're just as dumb as they are smart. If they were curious enough, they'd stick a fork in an outlet. That's what Steve was for, and he's okay with looking out for them until they realize they can start doing it for themselves. They're learning. . .slowly.

Of course, Eddie doesn't realize this until after Vecna, and he's running around like a chicken with his head cut off and he's trying to stop Max from smothering Mike with a pillow in his sleep. Suddenly, he's a stressed-out dad smoking on the back porch at the homecoming party they've thrown at the Munson's new home. He's watching them run around the backyard, looking tired, and Wayne is laughing at him.

"It's not funny," Eddie muttered. "I love those kids but they're going to make me go gray."

"Or lose your hair," Wayne said in amusement.

"Don't even joke about that," Eddie said.

"Got you something, boy," Wayne said and handed him a small box.

Eddie opened it up to reveal a world's greatest dad mug. He looked up to find Wayne drinking out of a world's greatest grandpa mug.

"Seriously? Did you buy that for yourself?" Eddie asked.

"Yep."

Steve came out on the porch, drinking out of a world's greatest mom mug.

"Not you too," Eddie said.

"I think it's funny," Joyce said from beside Hopper.

"Even if it's about one of your kids?" Eddie asked, and she just grinned.

"You know, I think Will and El are the only ones we don't have to worry about," Steve grinned, sitting next to Eddie. "They're angels."

"That's true. . .wait, what's Max doing to Mike?" Eddie asked.

"Well, it looks like Mike has fallen asleep in the grass, and Max is. . .Max is giving Mike a free haircut," Steve said as he sipped his coffee.

"Yeah, I figured that was coming when Mike said skateboarding is stupid," Hopper said.

"You knew Max would cut his hair?" Eddie asked.

"You gave her the scissors, didn't you?" Steve asked.

Hopper stared off in the distance as he sipped his own cup of coffee. Joyce looked at her husband in horror.

"Hop!"

"Should we stop him?" Eddie asked.

"Nah," Steve said.

"What did he say to you?" Eddie asked.

"Well, Dustin joked about us acting like a married couple, and Mike said that I would never marry you in a million years," Steve scoffed and looked at Eddie seriously. "I would marry you in a heartbeat, baby."

Mike yawned and stretched, his brows furrowing.

"Does anyone else feel a breeze?" Mike asked.

"He's looking this way," Eddie said with a grin. "May I kiss you in front of everyone?"

"Absolutely," Steve said with a grin.

Eddie leaned forward and captured Steve’s lips with his.

"Finally," Robin said, coming out of the house.

She was sipping on a mug filled with tea. On the mug, it said: world's worst godmother. Dustin came out a moment later wearing a hat that said: world's loudest child. Eddie glanced at Wayne with an amused look.

"You really went all out, huh?" Eddie asked.

"We had plenty of hush money," Wayne shrugged.

As Max wondered inside, she handed Dustin a pair of scissors.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" He asked.

"Oh my God! My hair!" Mike shrieked. "Henderson! You're dead!"

"It wasn't me, I swear!" Dustin exclaimed and ran off when Mike started chasing him.

"Dustin! You butthead!" Eddie exclaimed. "No running with scissors!"