#now i'm scared about this other package i sent

[depoteka]

guys good news the girl who bought some crochet clothes from me loved them 🥰🥰

#ufff #i was scared #feels nice to hear nice things... #now i'm scared about this other package i sent #bc i had to send it thru a different company than usual and i'm like. how tf does it work #just hoping for the best

[writtenbymoonflower]

Dinner

You have a panic attack and your boys comfort you. poly!maruaders x fem!reader

cw: panic attack, negative self talk, swearing, mention of raw chicken (ew ik)

1.7k words (it's long i'm sorry)

You never thought you would cry over chicken, but here you were. You knew that you had been having a lot of busy days as of late, there were a million things swimming about in your head. But you were managing it well, or at least you thought you were. But then it all came down.

You had bought a pack of chicken earlier in the week to cook for dinner one night. It had been on clearance so you knew it was  on its way out, but you thought you would’ve had more time. You opened your fridge so you could begin cooking before your boyfriends were going to get too hungry, when you realized that the meat was out of date by a whole three days. It was something so small, yet, it sent a billion anxious thoughts jumping around your head like they were on pogo sticks, and most of them were not very nice. 

How could you be so stupid? You should’ve checked the date. If you hadn't been so lazy earlier this week you wouldn’t be wasting this food. Now there was nothing to cook and your boyfriends would go hungry. They would likely end up resenting you for being a shit girlfriend and being so-

“Dolly? What are you doing over there?” Usually Sirius’ voice was a comfort to you, but right now it just added to your misery. It reminded you of all your failures and why you would never be good enough for anyone. 

Tears started filling your eyes. You tried to still your shaking hands and even your breathing, but it was all too much. They were going to realize your mistake and were going to be angry. His footsteps were painful and your other boyfriends’ laughter in the other room made you wince. When Sirius finally was facing you, your attempt at a facade fell apart. He knew you too well and apparently your body just decided to give over to panic because you suddenly couldn’t catch your breath. You tried to mutter out an apology but your voice was caught in your throat and your pulse was hammering. 

“ Hey.” Sirius’ dark brows scrunched in concern, his gray eyes searching your face and scanning your body for any injury. “What’s wrong?” His voice was raised in panic as you stood and shook. 

Apparently Sirius’ voice triggered your other two boyfriends to barrel into the room, but you refused to look at any of them, opting to hold the chicken package behind your back and stare at the ground. James thought you looked like a small child standing in front of a broken glass, ready to be reprimanded and punished. It made his heart ache. 

“Baby,” Sirius continued to beg for a response. “What’s happened? You’re scaring me.” Remus placed a soothing hand on his partner’s back while James scooted past the both of them to grab your shoulders and stoop to see your face. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Sweetheart, can you look at me?” James spoke softly. He was just as concerned as the other two, but James was better at keeping his head, even though inside he wanted to sob seeing you like this. You swallowed thickly and looked up at him. 

“There you go.” Remus whispered encouragement from behind James. Your chest was still heaving and you were still crying, but now they could read your face better. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” You choked out, hoping that if you spoke about your failure early enough they might forgive your mistake.

“Hey, not right now. Just focus on me, honey. I think you’re having a panic attack, I need you to try and steady your breathing.” James motioned the other two over, Remus getting behind you and pulling you both to the ground so he could rock you in his lap. Sirius and James sat and each took one of your hands, James putting the one he was holding on his chest, while Sirius put the other on yours. (After throwing the chicken on the counter, opting to ask questions after you could speak again.) You stifled another sob from wracking your body. 

“We’ve got you, sweet girl. Just copy Prongs’ breaths, yeah?” Sirius used his free hand to tilt your chin up to meet the eyes of the two boys in front of you. You could feel James’ chest rising and falling as he took deep, exaggerated breaths. Your first few were shaky and clumsy, but soon you were finally able to get a comfortable amount of air in your lungs and your tears slowed to a stop. You still felt guilty, but at least now your head wasn’t so loud. You pulled your hands back into your lap.

“There you go,” Remus soothed from behind you. “Atta girl.” He pressed gentle kisses all over the side of your neck. You could see the two boys in front of you visibly relax at your now calmer state. “Good girl, you did so well. I know that was scary.” Remus turned so you were sitting sideways in his lap and you could see all three of the boys sitting around you. 

“ Thank you for helping.” You said sheepishly, looking down at your fidgeting hands. “I’m sorry I did that, I know it was a lot.” 

“None of that.” Sirius said firmly. “It’s not your fault, baby. You didn’t do it to be bad, you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

Wrong. You thought to yourself, remembering the spoiled food now sitting on the counter. 

“Can you tell us what happened, lovely?” James ducked his gaze to meet yours, his brown eyes were sad and confused and swimming with all too much love. 

You really didn’t want to admit your mistake, but they deserved an explanation for your erratic behavior. 

“It’s really nothing that bad.” You tried to console, as if you weren’t the one shaking on the floor not two minutes ago. “I was just-” You swallowed hard again. “I was being stupid.” You went back to picking at your nails. Your self-deprecating comment made Remus raise an eyebrow and Sirius lightly pinch your thigh. 

“You weren’t. You’re never stupid, be nice.” Remus (lovingly) scolded. 

“I was just, I bought this chicken.” You struggled to keep your breathing even. “I bought this chicken earlier this week and I was going to cook it, but I was too lazy these last few days and I fucked up and I-” You bit hard on your lip to keep from crying again. James desperately wanted to reprimand you for your self-cruelty, but he settled for grabbing Sirius’ hand and squeezing, not wanting to cut you off. 

“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.” James spoke even softer. 

“I let the chicken go bad. I wanted to cook tonight but when I went to grab the chicken it was bad and I just- I just felt bad because I can’t do anything right. I had all week to make it and now I can’t cook for you all and I just- I just feel bad.” You took another deep breath, still not wanting to meet their eyes.

“Oh, my baby.” Sirius lunged forward, wrapping you in his arms before you could even process what was happening. Remus huffed grumpily over you being stolen from his lap, but let it go. “That’s what you were all worked up about? That’s why you were all scared?” You nodded, your face still stuck in the crook of his neck. 

“It’s okay,” James soothed, now smoothing a gentle path up and down your back. “That happens to everyone, sweetheart. It’s not something you need to be mad at yourself for. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you weren’t lazy. You’ve been busy and tired. It just happens.” James thought he could cry, his girl was so hard on herself that she was all panicked over something like this. 

“Exactly.” Remus said. “It’s nothing we can’t fix, dove. We can go to the store tomorrow and you can make it then.” You started to protest, wanting to go tonight but you were quickly cut off. “Tomorrow.” Remus was firm, but no less kind. “You aren’t doing any work tonight. You need to rest. We’ll figure something out for dinner, it’s no trouble.” 

You were going to argue but you figured it was a losing battle. 

“Thought you would be mad at me.You should be mad at me. I fucked u-” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before James squawked, Sirius sputtered, and Remus inhaled sharply. Sirius forced your head out of his neck to look at you. 

“What?!” He looked genuinely offended.

“Lovely,” James was the one who formed a full sentence. “We would never be mad at you for something like this. Never.” He grabbed your chin to make you look at him. “Look at us, sweet girl. No ones mad at you. We care about you, not a pack of chicken. It’s not worth you being this mean to yourself, nothing is.” He pouted during the last sentence. 

“Also,” Sirius said, still being very gentle. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t just about chicken, dollface. You’ve been really stressed lately.” 

“And you’ve been really hard on yourself. You always have been, but it’s gotten worse.” Remus’ voice sounding sad. You knew he was right though. 

“I know.” You sighed, dejectedly. “I’ll try to be better.” You gave them all a tight-lipped smile. 

“That’s what we mean!” James whined. “You don’t need to ‘be better.’ You just need to be gentle with yourself.” 

“It’s just hard.” You admitted. 

“I know it is, baby.” Sirius empathized. Then his face morphed into his usual grin. “How about, we all lead by example. I know I can be very nice to you.” He took your cheeks in both his hands and started pressing kisses all over your face. You giggled wetly, trying to squirm out of his grasp. “There, like that. Nice.”

“I don’t know how she is gonna do that, Pads. It’s hard to kiss your own face.” Remus attempted (and failed) to keep the amused tilt out of his voice. 

“Oh no!” James dramatically gasped. “I guess we’ll just have to.” He beamed, taking your jaw in his hand to smear even more kisses on your cheeks.

#marauders #marauders fanfiction #drabble #fluff #james potter #marauders fandom #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #this is my first poly!m fic #i will get better i promise

[fangirl-dot-com]

🐍 Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

I'm sorry to the ones I couldn't tag. If you do want notifications for when I post, there's always that option as well!

Logan had a new phone. And for the first time in a while, it felt nice to just be disconnected from the world for a bit. The people who truly mattered had his phone number. His Instagram had been wiped, along with every other social media. The American had gone dark. 

And apparently you had done the same thing. 

His parents and brother knew where he would be, just in case for emergencies. However, he asked them to not text much. He needed time away, well, away from the current grid. It hurt him, seeing how supportive everyone was with Theo. No one had ever congratulated him when he first got signed. Hell, even Oscar hadn’t known right away, claiming he had forgotten. 

Of course, he had given you his new number because you’d be the only person he previously knew that he’d still be in contact with. You also gave Logan you’re new number, having similar ideas to your friend. 

Well, he had given George his new number. The Briton had texted his old number in a panic-like manner when Logan deactivated everything. Under a temporary contract, Logan wasn’t legally allowed to tell George anything except that he was safe and needed time away. 

The brunet was not happy with that, but he let Logan know that if he needed anything, he would come running. A bit of happiness let itself seep into Logan’s heart, thankful for the Mercedes driver’s friendship. 

When he had read the email after the social media posts went up, his mind blanked. 

What did Andretti want with him? A washed-out jobless nobody. He believes they should have been looking at someone like Carlos or even Ollie, who was making good times in F2 car. It had to be anyone but him. 

So why was it him? 

He had been about to call you when you had first facetimed him on his laptop. He couldn’t even get words about before you started screeching. Logan chuckled as you went on a rant, as this could be their big break. His silence had given you a look into how he was truly feeling. 

Your voice had quieted down on the device. 

“You’re going to take the offer right?” 

Logan winced at your tone, which gave you the information you needed. You rolled your eyes as you sat on your bed. 

“Logan, we were just dropped by two teams that didn’t even want us. They pushed us away like we were nothing. And now, there’s a team with top potential that truly wants us, and you don’t want to take the opportunity?” 

The American boy sighed. You had a point. 

“I’m just scared that I’m going to get there, and then make a fool out of myself. Then Michael is going to see how truly bad of a driver I am,” he hugged out. 

You could hear the fear in his voice, and it devastated you. Where did your confident and smiley boy go? Williams would pay for it, one way or another. 

You were hesitant to say something. 

“Logan, even if our times aren’t what we’re wanting at first, Michael said that we will get better. He’s sent my manager some data and it looks like we are scarily similar with our driving styles. Logan, the car is going to be made for us. Michael made sure that I knew that we’d have a chance, because I’m not driving if you’re not. Together or nothing, we come as a package.” 

Logan sat up quickly off his bed. He glared at you through his laptop.

“You did not just quote Charles Leclerc to me.” 

“And what if I did?”  

“No, you can’t give this offer up if I don’t drive.” 

You glared back at him, although you had a smile. 

“It’s either both of us, or none of us. I’m tired of never seeing you, and you need a friend you can count on. I’m sorry to say but Oscar has done a very shit job of being your friend. I’d say that George is a better friend than him.” 

Logan sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just hard to accept that.” 

Your smile dropped a bit. 

“Logan, he was supposed to be your friend and then he dropped you. Everyone had dropped you so many times and you’ve been the one to pick yourself back up. But now, you’ve been dropped a final time, yet someone wants to be the first to help you back up, to clean your wounds, and to heal you. And now you don’t even want that?” 

You had a point. 

Like always. 

“Your words never seem to fail me woman.” 

“That’s because men are the inferior being.” 

Logan snorted. 

“Will I see you in Milan next week?” you asked with hopeful eyes. Logan could see the glimmer that shined in them. He didn’t want to be the person to damped that. 

“I will see you in Milan.” 

The first thing that popped into Logan’s mind when he got to the base was “Holy Shit.” 

The building was massive as he walked through the giant doors. He really thought that this was a movie set with how grand it was. Surely this couldn’t it? Maybe he had the wrong address. 

“Mr. Sargeant?” 

Or maybe he did. His body turned to the lady standing near the front desk. He showed a smile that was definitely a tad too wide and showed too many teeth. Thankfully the lady didn’t show any malice as she sweetly grinned at the blond. 

“Yes ma’am. That’s me.” 

Always the good southern-hospitality manners with him. 

“I’m glad you could make it. If you’d follow me, Michael is waiting in his office for you.” 

Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he finally knew that he didn’t have to circumnavigate the entirety of the building. 

The air was fresh as he walked behind the lady, who he now knew as Marissa Andretti, Michael’s sister and Head of Directors. Her own American accent was like a comforting blanket to Logan. Gosh, did he miss hearing a familiar voice to his own during 2023. 

The one voice he couldn’t wait to hear was your own. He knew he’d be safe once he heard the lisps of a Southern draw when you talked. The slurred vowels and the biting consonants would be music to his ears. 

“How have you liked the simulator and the data so far?” Marissa asked as she led Logan down yet another hallway. How big was this building and were they leading him to his death? 

Yet, despite his concerns, Logan was very happy with the results. 

“The car is already so fast. It’s like it’s just an extension of me instead of working against me. It feels so right.” 

Technically, Logan had been on the first plane to Milan to start testing, as his own anxiety wouldn’t let him wait until the week was up. You had your own simulator back in the States, so you did your testing there. Logan had been back in London when the email came, and his set up was not going to function with the high tech that Andretti needed. 

Marissa smiled over her shoulder. “Good, that is exactly what we are wanting to hear.” 

Finally, she stopped in front of a door that had a giant-ass A on the front. Logan wanted to laugh at the cinematics. Surely, this was a movie and he was going to be the main character. Marissa pushed a button and the door slowly swung open. 

Logan’s smile grew once he saw you in one of the very plush seats in front of the desk. You immediately stood up and jumped into his arms. He breathed deeply and all weight slowly melted from his body. It had been so long since he had gotten to hug you, hold you, feel you. 

When you pulled away, you had a blinding smile on your face. 

“Glad to see you here Logs.” 

His nose scrunched at the old nickname. 

“I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were 12, Y/n.” 

You huffed. 

“Fine, no nickname for you.” 

“I take it back. I ban you from calling me Logan.” 

“Isn’t that your name?” 

“No?” 

“Logs!” 

“Ah there it is!” 

A cough signaled to Logan that they weren’t actually alone. He sheepishly turned around to face the man who, hopefully after this meeting, would be his boss for a couple of years. Logan turned his full body towards the desk and stepped with his hand outstretched. 

Michael had a knowing smile as he shook Logan’s hand. 

“I am so sorry sir, I didn’t even realize that you were already here, and I haven’t seen her in a while, and it’s so good to just here the accents because the grid is entirely too European and Asian, sometimes I couldn’t even understand them, and…” 

Michael put his hands on Logan’s shoulders. 

“It’s just fine kid. I totally get you.” 

Logan visibly relaxed under Michael’s hands. 

“Now, why don’t you sit down and we can start talking contracts.” 

Logan lit up at the word. 

“Contracts?”

You gave him a smirk. 

“Yes Logs, contracts.” 

Logan felt as though he couldn’t breathe. But this time, it was with excitement and not dread. His butt quickly found the seat next to yours. Marissa left the room with promises of coming back with celebratory drinks. 

Michael pulled out two small stacks of paper before he started speaking. 

“So, I’ve talked with both of your managers and we’ve come up with a contract. You two can look over it as I read the big details. The finer print is stuff that you both have already previously gone over, but you are still encouraged to look over it one final time.”

You and Logan had the same exact papers. 

In the initial emailing process, the two of you had voiced that you were a packaged deal. Logan was surprised to see that Michael had said that he wouldn’t want it any other way and was glad to possibly not have to deal with drivers hating each other. Logan thought anything would be better than Brocedes 2016. 

You looked down at the words as Michael read them out loud. 

“Ok, so in the contract, the two of you will be signed until 2027. There is an exit clause in section C, but we are not allowed to terminate prior to 2027. The two of you will be granted ambassadorship with whatever sponsors we’ve received. The sponsorships are in section E and it gives a rundown of each one and what they will be contributing to the team. 

“Per secrecy of wanting to keep the identities secret until we reach the grid for testing, the two of you will go under pseudonyms.” 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Like a call sign?” 

Marissa flashed a wicked grin. 

“Exactly like a call sign.” 

You continued, “Do we get to come up with them?” 

Michael clasped his hands. “So we thought that Y/n could go by Phoenix and then Logan would go Venus.” 

Your eyes widened as you took in the name. Wasn’t too bad, you thought. 

Logan let out a sigh of relief. “At least it’s not like Eagle or something. That would be super obvious.” 

The boss-man chuckled before he looked back down at the contract. 

“Since the two of you did not specify a salary, we took the liberty to come up with one ourselves. But please feel free to mention what you’d like and we can always raise it. We also liked to put in that for every point scored, the two of you get a bonus as a little incentive. The salary will not be dropped no matter if points are scored or not. Think of it as a baseline.” 

Michael chuckled as he watched yours and Logan’s eyes drastically widen at the sight of the eight digits before the decimal. Logan gulped at the sight. 

“Michael, I think you added too many zeros.” 

“I think I didn’t add enough.” 

Logan couldn’t respond. 

You looked up from the paper to Michael. “I think it’s high enough.” 

The goateed-man smiled back at you and continued. 

“I’ve seen the skills parts on your resumes and thankfully the two of you do not need to learn Italian from scratch. I don’t even know when the two of you had time to learn it, but thankfully it is not required in meetings or in the garage.” 

Logan smirked as he looked at the words. 

“What’s the fun in that? We can have secret conversations with ourselves.” 

You tapped his shoulder. 

“Except Ferrari will know and maybe Lewis.” 

“I’ll have my Duolingo account at the ready.” 

Michael watched as the two of you pored over the papers and bickered like an old married couple. He and Marissa already had a bet going to see when the two of you would get together. But, you didn’t need to know that.

“I digress. You can speak in Italian if you want to. The next couple of sections are just PR related. The two of you wanted to bring you own teams in, which is fine. I’ve sent emails and meeting times to each of them and have been replied to. All is in motion. Logan, you mentioned something to me once about your personal trainer leaving?” 

A sigh left his lips at the mention of Benny. He really didn’t want anyone else. He slowly nodded. 

“He had to leave to be with his family. Williams wasn’t the most accommodating and he was told that he had to be at every race. Normally I didn’t even need him until race day. He’d miss so much time with his family because of traveling and things like that.” 

“Well, I think we have you covered.” 

Logan looked back down at the paper. A small gasp left his lips. 

Ben Jacobs was written in black ink under “Personal Trainer.” 

“How?” 

Michael smiled. 

“It took some convincing, but he said he’d come back for you. Of course, Ben will be highly compensated to return after he said he wouldn’t. His family will also be accommodated for any race that they’d like to attend and Ben can show up however late he needs. His leave will also be paid time as well.” 

Logan could kiss the man if he could. Tears pooled in his eyes and he could only manage a small thank you. Your hand rested on his shoulder in comfort. He just couldn’t wait to see him again. 

“Looks like that is everything. Are you two ready to sign?” 

Yours and Logan’s heads nodded eagerly as pens were uncapped. There was light scratching for a few moments as you filled out the needed information on the multiple sheets of paper. Once everything was completed, you let out a sigh of relief. You and Logan could finally do this. 

Marissa showed up at the right moments with a few different beverages. You took one of the iced americanos, claiming that Italian espresso was, in fact, the best kind. Logan surprised you as he took a mimosa. 

He side-eyed you. 

“It’s freshly squeezed orange juice and you cannot go wrong with it. It’s a classic.”

You held you drink up and your other hand in mock surrender. 

Michael took a black coffee and sipped it. 

“Now, onto the fun stuff.” 

Your eyebrows pinched. “Fun stuff?” 

Michael smirked before pulling up a projector that was attached to his laptop. He started to click through the slides. 

“First, the car.” 

On the slide was a sleek yellow and black livery. The black really highlighted the tamer yellow. 

Michael pointed at it. 

“This is our 2024 livery. We designed it awhile back, but it’s finally going to be used.” 

You let out a whistle as a video played the engine noise. To you, it sounded fast. You had been able to do a few laps with an actual car to get the feel of it since IndyCar were so much different. Michael claimed though that you were a natural in the car, being able to command it to what you needed it to do. Logan was quite the same. 

The next slide showed multiple models of Lamborghinis. With it came a smirk from the sister and brother pair. 

Logan looked at them. 

“I don’t know whether to be excited about the smirks or nervous.” 

Marissa was the one to pull up something on her personal iPad. She showed the official Lamborghini website. 

“Because the two of you will now technically ambassadors for Lambo as well, you two need to pick out what models the two of you would like to own. For now, we can start with one, but Tonino wanted his drivers to start a small collection.” 

You made her pause. 

“Tonino, as in, Tonino Lamborghini?” 

Marissa sent a gentle smile to calm you down. 

“Yes. Mr. Tonino will be at quite a few races to watch. He has mentioned wanting to see Ferrari fail, but our data is saying that although we look promising, there’s not guarantee.” 

Logan exhaled sharply. 

“No pressure right?” 

Michael leaned forward over the desk. 

“Listen to me Logan. You have been with a team that has now destroyed every bit of self-confidence. Mr. Tonino is actually the one who put your name on my radar. If you’re good enough for him, you need to believe that you’re good enough for everyone else.” 

Logan was taken back. Mr. Tonino was the one to bring him up? He felt honored in a good way. A nod of his head let Michael and Marissa know that they could continue. Logan turned your way, only to find you already smiling at him. He hoped that he could always be on the receiving end of that smile. 

Marissa continued where she left off. 

“Just look over the models and customize it however you’d like. We’ll get it sent to the factory to be made in time for the first race in Bahrain. These cars will be shipped along with our supplies so you can always have them.” 

You smirked. “I’ve always wanted a black Lamborghini Aventador.” 

Logan turned to Marissa. “I’d love a black Lamborghini Huracan.” 

A smile grew on your face. “Aw, Logan. We’ll get matching Lambos.” 

Logan thought that if you had been an emoji, you’d be the one with the big teary eyes and a pout. Marissa looked pleased at the requests for the different models. 

You raised your hand. “Do we need to start looking for places to stay here in Milan?” 

Michael lifted his eyebrows. 

“You don’t actually. Between races, the two of you are more than welcome to either go home or adventure somewhere. We will let you know when it is crucial to come back here to do some testing. Housing is provided when you need to be here. There are multiple estates that can be used on bought property.” 

You and Logan definitely liked the sound of that. Maybe you could stay in close villas or something. Or maybe in the same place as you tended to get lonely. That’s what being pushed out of everything does to someone in a year. You can’t remember the last time that you were invited to do something with the team, always retreating to your small hotel room after a race. You feel as though Logan might feel the same. 

Michael moved to the next slide, showing the race suits. 

“These are the suits for the season. Black or white fireproofs will go well with them. Helmets are up to the two of you. You will need on standard for some races and then you can choose what races you want fun ones to be. Miami, Austin, Las Vegas, and Imola are going to be considered our home races.” 

“What about Monza?” Logan questioned. 

Michael had a glint in his eyes. 

“That will forever belong to the Tifosi I’m afraid.” 

You decided to pipe up. 

“Or Charles Leclerc. I feel like wherever he goes, the Tifosi goes with him. You make him trade teams, the Italians will follow him.” 

Logan shot you a teasing look. 

“You always have to bring him up in one way or another.” 

You shrugged. 

“He’s a good driver. Let’s not bring up that you’re such a fanboy for Max Verstappen of all people.” 

Logan’s torso shifted. 

“It’s not every day that one beats Sir Lewis Hamilton and take away his 8th championship!” 

Laughs erupted from Michael and Marissa, making you and Logan pause. You cleared your throat. 

“Sorry, please continue.” 

Michael went a bit further with the slides, going over compatible data to the car. He went over sponsors and things like that before he finally leaned back into his chair. 

“Are we able to drive the cars today?” 

Much like you were, Logan was itching to be back behind the wheel. And hopefully, the wheel belonged to a reliable car. 

Michael stood from where he sat, making you and Logan also rise to your feet. 

“I’d thought you’d never ask,” he said, making his way to the door. When the two of you didn’t follow, he turned back around. 

“Are you ready for it?” 

lamborghini_racing has posted

Lamborghini_racing Are you ready for it?

liked by y/n.nation, logang2, box_box_express, and 4,205,095 others

l4mbo.child a hello or how are you doing WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE

f1_fan I fear they have gagged the entire grid with this

ferrariforza damn, I thought we had the best livery - sorry kings 👑

lambo_drivers all I'm asking is who is going to be driving this beast?

lo-girlies do I even utter his name in fear that it might not happen?

y/nfan or even utter her name?

thepaddock_person who 🤨

childofF1 I'll say it - LOGAN AND Y/N FOR LAMBO 2024

box_box_express the paint, the yellow, the black, the lighting, THE EVERYTHING

taylorswiftxf1 I see the admin is a Taylor fan??

phoenix95 has posted

phoenix95 baby let the games begin

liked by venus2, Lamborghini_racing, y/n.nation, dior, and 2,195,086 others

4theF1_girlies EXCUSE MEEEEEEE

driver95 ayo - we got the Lightning McQueen number with a queen

lambo_duo oh gosh I hope I live to see the day that they reveal their drivers

venus2 looking snazzy 😎

phoenix95 no one ever says that anymore

venus2 🥺

phoenix95 fine...thank you

venus2 🥰

venusxphoenix WHOEVER THEY ARE - THEY HAVE MY HEART

rising_phoenix95 immediate fan

lambo_child the Aventador is such a slay 💅

lambof1 I wonder if they have like matching cars with their contracts

venus2 has posted

venus2 let the games begin now

liked by phoenix95, marissa_andretti, Lamborghini_racing, and 4,205,850 others

lambof1 I THINK I CALLED IT?? THE MATCHING BLACK CARS

pitstop_nightmare I'M SORRY FERRARI BUT THIS IS TOO SEXY

lamborghinivsferrari THE HURACAN 🥵😱

c16_leclerc I'm guessing they went to Charles's school of serving cunt

hamilton44lewis and graduated with a degree in slay

phoenix95 that's sexy baby

venus2 thanks 😚

phoenix95 ...I was talking about the car?

venus2 sure...sure you were 😈

box_box_express I feel like I have some sleuthing to do - hold please

logansarg2 I miss Logan so much - it's heartbreaking to see all of his accounts go dark, I guess I'll have to stan this dude instead

y/n.nation I miss our girl so much

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargeant #f1 x driver!reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #platonic grid x reader #formula 1 x you #Logan Sargeant x driver!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fic #future grid dad lewis #future grid dad lestappen #grid bestie george #grid dad lewis #grid dad charles #grid dad max #reputations fic #Lamborghinidriver!reader #Logan deserves this and more #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you

[mittysins]

Newt at Home

Includes: Trans mpreg, graphic labor and orgasmic birth

I'm so glad I was able to get this finished! First Mayternity, in the bag. Of course I needed to use Newt for this. I'm so proud that I've actually managed to complete a seasonal art piece. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

[FIND THE UNCENSORED ART ON TWITTER]

-------------

Okay, I'm not going to lie and say I'm not kind of freaked out. I'm standing in the kitchen wearing a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants, quickly scribbling down the time in my notebook.

10:56 PM. I've been in labor for 10 hours, at least. I couldn't really tell at first, thinking the twinge in my lower abdomen was just Braxton Hicks. I ate my lunch and had a nap without a second thought.

Eventually I realized the pain wasn't going away, in fact it was introducing a new pressure in my hips that I was frankly not a fan of. Okay. So that’s how it is.

I started by emailing my professor. Just a vague mention of a family emergency, and that I was going to need an extension on an upcoming essay.

Continuing on, I sent a quick “baby’s on her way!” to the group chat where my friends were dicking around as they usually did. I laughed at their excited responses as I tapped my pen on the paper. Newest contraction started 43 seconds ago. I was doing just fine.

Then to get down to business. I blessed my past self for having half a mind to have everything ready a month beforehand. Everything I needed was in the bottom drawer of the baby’s dresser. A few old towels, a package of training pads, and settled neatly on top was a pair of sterile clamps and scissors within blue plastic packaging. I felt my heart skip a beat when I opened the drawer to set everything up. This was actually happening.

It was a waiting game from then on. Which is how I ended up here. My contractions are now 4 minutes apart and it's really starting to set in. My chest burns in a weird way, most likely a result of binding for years. I accepted the lung damage a long time ago, and it seems to be making itself well known as my breathing grows increasingly ragged. I can't quite keep my legs together anymore with that ever-present weight on my pelvis. It feels like something is about to give at any second. I assume it’s my water, honestly I figured it would have broken by now. I let out a long sigh as the contraction ends and set down the pen. I sway my hips as I flip through the notebook on the counter in front of me. Written on the first page is the date my pregnancy test was positive as well as a few phone numbers. I can still see a few splotches of faded numbers where my tears had mixed with the ink of my favorite pen. The next few pages were symptoms, weight, my medications including my testosterone gel. Everything medical. I was so scared all those months ago, it almost makes me anxious to look back on those pages. I prefer to look at the middle of the notebook, where I noted when I had gone a week without morning sickness, my first weird craving, the bizarre and vivid dreams I was having. My favorite was the page dedicated to name suggestions. All my friends took turns scribbling down names they liked, laughing and teasing each other as we crossed some out and circled others. It isn't too long before I flip to my current page and glance at my phone.

11:00 on the dot.

I bite my lip and continue my swaying with a firm grip on the counter. It hurts now. That's not to say it didn't hurt before, but now it's getting intense. Each clawing contraction feels like a band being tightened around my entire lower abdomen. It's enough to keep me tensed up with my head bowed for its entirety, until finally, finally, there's that give.

I let out a soft groan as my water breaks. It's not a huge gush like in the movies, more of like a gentle pop followed by a steady stream of fluid that lasts a few seconds. I take a moment to assess my situation. Pants need to come off, obviously, but after that? I couldn't quite decide. I weigh my options as I wattle back to my room and remove my sweatpants, tossing them into a laundry pile I'd designated to this whole ordeal. I could lay in bed with a pillow between my knees and just… wait. I quickly toss that option when I realize how little I've sat still since I even realized I was in labor. A shower sounds nice, the wetness between my legs is less than pleasant and the water on my back would be helpful. I could set up a spot on the couch, just throw down some waterproof pads and a towel or two and labor there, maybe get some last minute work done.

I tense up. Oh, now this is different. I subconsciously bend my knees a little as the contraction reaches its peak. The release of pressure when my water broke was heavenly, but the respite didn't last long. Instead the pressure returned, now bringing with it an intense fullness resting just at the base of my pelvis. I grimace as I feel more fluid trickle between my thighs. Shower it is.

I watch the clock switch to 11:04 as the contraction lets up.

It's a short walk across the hall to get to my bathroom. I realize how sensitive my nipples are when I peel off my shirt. I flush at the sound I make when the fabric drags, sending a jolt down my spine. I'm getting worked up and my heart rate quickens for a moment. I turn the faucet tab and slowly drag myself into the tub, letting the warm water run down my back and legs. For a few moments it feels like routine again. Just me and my baby. No college, no work, no bills, no angry parents. Just me, lowering myself to my knees in the shower, my baby burrowing dangerously low in my pelvis with the next contraction.

It's hard to keep track of time from then on. I'm sort of just zoning out a lot, concentrating closely with each new wave of pain and letting my mind wander in the steeply decreasing downtime. Eventually I’m talking aloud to her, telling her how loved she already is, that she can come on out when she’s ready, that I'm so excited to finally meet her. That I'm ready. My mindless blabbering stops when I feel a very sudden shift.

Before I realize it I'm openly groaning into the air with the gripping contraction. It all just got very real, and I can feel myself becoming frantic. The increase in pressure was maddening, and no amount of shifting and rolling my hips would relieve it. My last contraction was at most a minute ago. I don't have long at all. I decide to push, just the tiniest bit, at the end of the contraction. It's just a little shove, I don't even hold my breath. Just enough to try it out and get a feel for the sensation. If she’s coming, she's coming. If she’s not, what happens? I wait a little longer and try again?

Another timid nudge.

Yeah, she’s definitely coming.

As soon as the contraction lets up I turn off the shower and heave myself out to towel off. I almost want to jump out of my skin I'm so excited. A quick collection of my shirt, phone and towel and I’m waddling back into my room, haphazardly tossing them on my bed. I decide to wait until after the next contraction to climb up onto my bed and really get this show on the road. When I get a look at myself in the full length mirror near my dresser I have a chance to catch my breath. My taught belly has noticeably dropped, basically screaming to the world what was about to happen. I'm flushed and sweaty and my wet hair is still sticking to my forehead. I’m all out of sorts, but I couldn't care one bit what I look like right now. Baby couldn't care less either. That telltale tightening grips me again, and when it begs for me to push along with it, I deepen my stance into a half-squat and bare down.

It almost feels… good? It's a very odd sensation but it feels like such a release to finally get to work with the pressure instead of against it. Two firm pushes in front of the mirror and I decided my bed was there if I needed it. Instead, I swipe a training pad from the package and lay it down on the floor in front of the mirror before stepping onto it. And I wait. At this point I'm so eager to push it’s hard to focus on anything else. I slowly lower myself down to be half kneeling, one foot propped up to let my hips open. I suck in a deep breath, and just like that I'm stuck in a contraction and pushing so hard I see my face go red. Exhale, inhale, push like hell. So it goes.

It only takes a few good pushes to feel something hard and very noticeably large lodged in my birth canal. Between pushes one of my hands dips down and curiously prods at my lips. I don't know what I was expecting to feel, she’s definitely not there yet, but nevertheless I’m a lot more sensitive than usual. I feel perpetually slick now considering I've been leaking little by little for the last hour and a half. But that's not just it. The past twelve hours have been the most in-tune I've ever felt with my body, like we’re finally working towards the same goal of giving birth to my daughter safely and calmly. The excitement and the love mixed with the fullness of her head moving downward almost became ecstasy. One accidental brush to my sensitive clit and I'm shivering. The sudden rush of pleasure triggers a contraction and I weakly push through it. Once the contraction ends my fingers slip into my birth canal. I was disappointed for a moment when I didn't feel anything.

Until I did. About two and a half knuckles deep, there was the hard, slimy ball I had been working down for the past twelve hours.

Oh my fucking god, that’s my baby.

I was awestruck. Just allowing the pads of my middle and ring fingers to press against her head was enough to have me grinning like an idiot.

Returning my hand to its place on my knee, I bore down again with the upcoming contraction. This time a low groan escapes my throat and I find myself leaning forward just the slightest bit. Looking in the mirror, I become fixated on the bulge forming behind my lips. I'm leaking fluid considerably now, and I'm grunting out little pushes when I swear I see a dark sliver start to part my folds. I only saw it for a split second. My hand dips between my legs once more and I press a finger into my lips. Sure enough, just out of sight rests my baby’s head. The quick progress I made surprises me, and I let out a breathy laugh as I trace my fingers back up to my dick. The warm tingling in my belly when I rub a few experimental circles into the swollen nub quickly melts my grunts into soft moans. My breath quickens. I was expecting this to be horribly painful, yet here I am moaning with the next contraction. All I can focus on in the mirror is the sight of my lips parting for my baby’s head. I moan through the stretch of my perineum, letting my pleasure bring me higher as I watch my lips pull out into a teardrop shape.

My rubbing has found a steady pace, and my hips buck a bit. I'm close, I can tell, and I feel the head continue to push my lips open. That burn is starting to set in. Another firm push.

I almost yelp when the head stretches me to a full crown, but I find myself so awestruck by the sight that I fail to make any noise at all. My rubbing continues as there the head stays. The burn is searing. Until finally, the release of my orgasm carries me blissfully as the head surges forward with a gush.

I kneel there for a moment, legs shaking and eyes fluttering, as I process what just happened. The aftershocks distract me through the next contraction, giving me time to gather myself. I can see it in the mirror, my baby’s head hanging out of me as it's supported in my hands. A sob rips from my throat as my fingers wander, feeling her tiny ears and nose.

“Oooh-kaaaaay.” I breathe, shaking off the numb tingly feeling that accompanied my orgasm. My fingers fumble around the baby’s neck, quickly untangling the umbilical cord and pulling over her head.

After lifting myself up to standing, the short few steps that should have been my journey to my bed became a quest. I knew I had no chance of closing my legs at this point, so it's a slow shuffle making my way over with shaky legs and a hand between them to support my baby. Climbing up onto the mattress isn't much easier, but I eventually manage to sit up against my pillows, legs butterflied out. From there I wait.

“Come on, kiddo.” I encourage. “I’m ready, you can come out now.” I wiggle my hips and give a tiny push, trying to get her to turn.

Once she does, I'm all in. My hands find purchase behind my knees and I pull back, red in the face as I push as hard as I can for the shoulders. The way I'm sitting, I don’t even need the mirror to see. I watch as my swollen lips spread around the first shoulder, then the other with a small spurt of fluid, and then-

I barely have time to catch her as with the last push, the rest of the baby spills out with a gush.

“Oh my god-” I sputter out as I lift the infant to my chest. As soon as she touches my skin, she begins wailing. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I check her over with wide, misty eyes.

“You are just absolutely perfect, aren't you?”

I giggle at her squirming attempt to get comfortable. So that’s what’s been keeping me up at night.

The ache sets in quickly, and I make quick (quick enough) work of delivering the afterbirth, cutting the cord and making sure we were both cleaned up and warm. Once I'm in a pair of sweatpants and back with her on my bed, I lay her back down on my bare chest, opting for a light blanket to wear cape-style and cover us both. I'm absolutely awestruck.

“Alright, we’ve given your aunts and uncles enough emotional prep time, don't you think?” I say decidedly to the already-sleeping infant as I unlock my phone, quickly finding the “video call” button in the group chat.

I'm grinning like an idiot as three of my friends join the call at lightspeed, the other two following quickly behind.

“Guys, someone wants to meet you!”

#tmpreg #mpreg #trans pregnancy #birth #birth kink #labor #m draws #pregnancy #nbpreg #birth fic #mayternity

[ghostofskywalker]

Hello I was wondering if I could request an echo x gnreader where they are in the middle of a battle and like the reader is close to an explosion and gets injured?

(I'm sorry if you do no understand)

hi! here it is, i hope you enjoy :)

words: 1,697

summary: For as long as he's been traveling with the Bad Batch, Echo had no problem always sticking to the plan, no matter what the battles threw at him. But when you're injured in an explosion, it suddenly gets a little more difficult to listen to instructions.

clone troopers masterlist

Concussions and Cuddling

The mission was going perfectly smoothly until an explosion wracked the Separatist base they were running through. Echo turned to look at Wrecker, a confused expression on his face (even though his helmet was covering it). “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” his brother answered, tightening his grip on the box they had been sent there to acquire. “But we need to get out of here.”

“I agree.”

The plan was simple, the group was divided into three teams of two: Wrecker and Echo, Tech and Omega, and you and Hunter. Each team had a different job, and once they were done everyone would meet back at the ship. Tech and Omega had completed their objective first by getting into the security systems and disabling all the alarms (so they were the first ones to arrive back), and Wrecker and Echo had gotten the package that Cid had sent them for. You and Hunter were looking for surplus droid parts that could provide them with an extra bonus on the market (because being a fugitive wasn’t exactly the most comfortable of lifestyles).

“Tech, do you know what that noise was?” Echo asked into his comm.

But before Tech could respond, Hunter answered the question. “The North end of the building was set to self destruct, probably if the Separatists lost the base, but the mechanism was faulty and clearly never went off when it was supposed to. Unfortunately, it meant that it went off now, completely untriggered.”

“Are you both okay?”

“I’m fine, other than a few scrapes and inevitable bruises. But Y/N got hit with a lot more of the debris and is currently unconscious, we’re going to need the ship to come here and get us.”

“I’m coming over there,” Echo said suddenly. “What’s your position?”

“No,” Hunter’s voice was firm. “If you and Wrecker are close to the Marauder, stick to the original plan. Once you two and the cargo are on board, then you can come get us.”

“Hunter-” Echo started to protest.

“That’s an order.”

Echo was not happy about this, but he did as the sergeant said, continuing to run with Wrecker until they reached the ship. As soon as the hatch closed behind them, Echo raced to the cockpit and sat down next to Tech. He grabbed the comm from the dashboard of the ship. “Hunter, we’re in the Marauder now,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly harsher tone than it usually did. “What is your position?”

When the location came through, Echo barely heard the sounds of takeoff, his mind was running too quickly. After he heard that you had been injured, nothing seemed to matter. If any of his brothers asked, he would quickly deny having any feeling for the team’s unofficial mechanic, but deep down he knew that was a bold faced lie. He couldn’t help the way he was drawn to you, and he also considered you his best friend on the ship. If the others knew they would no doubt pressure him to say something, to try and build that bridge between friendship and romance, but Echo was scared. Maybe it was a bit cowardly, but he was sure that you didn’t feel the same way about him, and he’d rather keep things the way they were than potentially give you reason to leave.

At that moment he didn’t care what it may look like, he just rushed down the ramp and leaped back down onto the ground where you and Hunter were. Weaving through the maze of fallen debris, he finally reached you, and even though he couldn’t see Hunter’s face, he was sure there was a disappointed expression on it. You were still unconscious, and he called for Wrecker to come get you while he raced back up and tried to set up their makeshift medbay for your needs.

There was a nasty bump on your head from where a falling piece of the ceiling had hit you, and your face was bloody from other scrapes and debris. You were going to need bacta at least, but it likely couldn’t do anything to but superficially heal some of your head injury, especially if you had sustained a concussion.

You didn’t wear as much as armor as the rest of them did (something he had tried to talk to you about several times before), so it was easy to removed the plates you did wear after Wrecker laid you down on the cot and left to go talk to Tech and Omega in the cockpit. Hunter was able to apply bacta to his own wounds, and the room was completely silent as Echo started to do the same for you.

He thanked the maker that the wounds you had were only on your head and arms, and that none of the debris had impacted your legs or lower body. Once you woke up, you would be able to walk just fine, and it would be all about taking it easy to heal the concussion Echo was increasingly sure you had.

Eventually, after he was done applying bacta to his cuts, Hunter broke the silence. “Why haven’t you said anything about how you feel?”

“What are you talking about?” Echo’s eyes widened and he was glad that Hunter was unable to see his expression because he was putting bacta on the last of your cuts and scrapes.

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“You think I don’t know how you feel? We all care about Y/N, but it’s clear that your feelings are a little different than the rest of team.”

“I don’t-”

“Echo,” Hunter said, cutting him off. “The entire time you’ve been traveling with us, you’ve always followed the plan, you’ve always been levelheaded, even when we were faced with dangers far more intense than we could ever imagine. But this time, when I radioed in to tell everyone about the situation, it was like you went a little rogue. I already had my suspicions, but this only confirms it. What I don’t understand is why you won’t say anything about how you feel.”

Echo sighed and turned to face his brother. There was nothing more he could do to help you at this point, and he didn’t really want to have this conversation, but it had to happen eventually. “I don’t say anything because I would rather pine in secret than have to hear that my feelings are not reciprocated. It’s already torturous to live through now, but I can’t imagine what it would feel like to no longer get to talk to the person I consider a very close friend. You remember how long it took us to find a mechanic that was willing to work with us, right? I’m not going to jeopardize that.”

“And it wouldn’t be a big deal if we had to find another one, but that’s so unlikely to happen and you know it. You need to tell Y/N how you feel, because your feelings are reciprocated and I hate to sit around and watch you two pine for each other.”

Echo opened his mouth to respond, but heard your voice (or a very scratchy and quiet version of it) coming from behind him. “What did you say?” you asked.

Hunter looked absolutely delighted at the sudden change in situation, and he was out of the room quicker than anyone else could blink. Echo (after resolving to get his brother back later) turned around to face you. “What did you hear?” he asked gently.

“My name,” you said, trying to sit up on the cot but then stopping when he gave you a look. “And then Hunter implying that you had feelings for me.”

“I do,” Echo admitted, almost too quiet for himself to hear. “And I know what Hunter said, but you don’t have to lie to me if you don’t feel the same way.”

“Echo, I like you too.”

He didn’t really process your words, instead just looking down at the ground. “I figured, and - wait, did you just say you liked me?”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “You’d think I wasn’t the one with the concussion here, you know. My head hurts like hell and I can still understand what’s going on.”

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, stepping up next to you and taking your hand.

He helped to move you so you were sitting up, and you smiled at him. “While we were in that base, Hunter was trying to convince me to tell you how I felt,” you said. “I didn’t realize that apparently he was going to try to get you to do the same.” Echo smiled, and you shifted over in the cot so there was room for another. “And now that we’ve got the hard part of this out of the way, I want to cuddle with you.”

Echo shook his head, even though it was hurting every bone in his body to say no. “You’re still healing.”

You pouted at his words. “Oh come on, I’ve got a small concussion and a few scrapes, I’m not on my deathbed!”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“How would you do that? Death by cuddling?” you asked, and you shook your head when he opened his mouth to respond. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it. Please come here, I can tell that you’re tired and need rest.” He didn’t have it in him to deny that request, and he couldn’t help the feeling of happiness that flooded through him as you laid your head on his shoulder. “See? I’m not dead, so you can get rid of the guilty conscience.”

A small laugh escaped his lips, and he had to admit you were right. “Why don’t we just try to get some rest?” he said, his hand finding yours.

He’d have to say something to Hunter later, because it was partly his insistence and meddling that got Echo to this point, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. This moment was something he’d dreamed about for so long, and he wanted to enjoy it.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #echo x you #echo x gender neutral reader #tbb echo x you #echo x y/n #tbb echo x gender neutral reader #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction

[7-wonders]

Also for Adrian under the Sentence Starters list, this time under fluff, “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” (2/3)

14. “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

Adrian had never planned on anyone seeing his phone lock screen, let alone you. As far as Peacemaker and others knew, his lock screen was still...well, Peacemaker. And Eagly, but they're kind of a package deal.

It was just you and Adrian working late at night at Henenlotter's. Everyone else had long since left for the night, but you were stuck typing up mission reports and Adrian was stuck writing incident reports for the numerous incidents directly involving him while on this mission. It's been silent for a while, with just the sounds of typing and pen scratching paper to keep you both company. When you finally look up at Adrian, you roll your hand against your neck to try and reduce some of the tension that's built here.

"Hey, what time is it?" you ask. Without looking up, Adrian slides his phone in your direction and taps on the screen.

You remain silent, which scares him. No thanking him or making any sort of remark on the time: just silence. When he looks at you, he sees that you're still staring at his phone screen with a curious look on your face.

"Adrian, am I your lock screen?"

Adrian panics at these words, grabbing his phone abruptly and hurling it across the room. It clatters harshly against the floor, and he cringes, but there's bigger problems right now. "You weren't supposed to see that."

You really, really weren't supposed to see that. It's not like it's a stalker-like photo of you—it's just a picture that Adebayo took of you grinning at Adrian while you ready to toss a fry in his mouth. He sits next to you, mouth wide open, but the smile he sports is clear regardless.

Adrian's favorite photo used to be the group picture Harcourt snapped after the Glan Tai mission. This quickly dominated the number one spot after Adebayo sent it to him. He had changed his lock screen that night, and it had remained a picture of the two of you. It made him smile when he looked at it, no matter how he was feeling.

But now? Now he's feeling nothing but shame. You probably think that he's a weirdo, some freak that's obsessed with you and has a shrine in his bedroom. He's not, he promises he's not. It's just that he likes you so much, and you care about him in a way that he's never experienced before, and he likes the way that his chest feels all warm whenever he sees that damn picture that he's now regretting ever saving to his phone.

He's spiraling, and you notice, because of course you do. You notice everything about him. "Hey, it's okay."

"No it's not," he groans and throws his head in his hands. "I promise I'm not a creep."

"I know you're not." You tap his arm with something. "Here."

You're trying to hand him your phone, though he's not sure why. He's about to tell you that his phone probably still works and you don't need to give him yours when you tap on the screen and light it up for him.

He's on your lock screen. It's a selfie that he remembers taking with you. You were both tired after a mission and feeling pretty goofy, so you whipped out your phone and told him to smile. You were making a peace sign and leaning against his upper arm, laughing at Adrian's crossed eyes and grimace that was caught becoming a laugh. At the time, he thought nothing of taking the picture, assuming that you would delete it later.

"Wait, I'm your lock screen?" Adrian asks.

Smiling, you nod. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"Because you have cooler friends than me."

"I don't want friends that you think are cooler than you." You tap his arm. "I want you."

#this was bad lol #oops #adrian chase #adrian chase imagine #adrian chase x reader #peacemaker vigilante #vigilante #vigilante imagine #vigilante x reader #peacemaker hbo #peacemaker

[alterniatifu]

Today I fucked up by sending a carcass to the wrong person.

Obligatory "not today, but I only saw the negative rammifications of my actions fully present themselves today" for the sake of the theme. I (9, violet, quirk dropped for anonymity's sake as I'm embarrassed enough as is) am a member of a hobbiest diving group for seadwellers who enjoy noncommercial underwater spelunking. An associate of mine in this group bodily threw her purple friend out of her hive (yes, bodily, as in over her horns) because she (the clown) wouldn't stop talking about some indigo she had a hate crush on or something.

We both attend the same diving group, as I said, so this means that I have had to hear her bemoaning about the whole ordeal. I thought that the way she described it was odd... mainly due to the fact that a sweep or so ago, during a heavy night of drinking that turned into a heavy day of drinking and many mistakes, she confessed to me that this clown is someone she hates deeply, but feels that she can only be hatefriends with due to mutual connections. Naturally, I've kept this secret to myself ever since... but the way she was lying about her motivations for the er, display of irrational jealousy, really irked me for some reason.

Since this troll has been telling everyone in our group as well that it was out of annoyance, I decided to remind her (in private!) about said prior conversation...

Well, she punched me in the face, and our fighting has made the diving group meetings very uncomfortable since. I'm not sure what to do. It seems so petty and stupid. Why is it my fault that she has hate vapors for a clown? That alone should be a her problem, not a me problem. Ugh. Drama.

Anyway it made me rather pissed, to be honest, I decided to send her a large lusus carcass in a box (as my little way of being petty back) but accidentally sent it to the wrong address, because she had two listed as contacts... The other being her moirail! So of course, you can guess which unlucky soul I sent this spiteful little thing to... I'm so embarrassed. And to make matters worse, the receiver of the package was apparently not only so scared that she dropped in a dead faint, but actually on call at that moment with her moirail! Now our diving group associates keep sending me messages, teasing me about making some delicate midblood faint with my ugly carcass packaging skills.

And of course, the other violet in question is using this as a distraction from her own bad behavior. She keeps sending memes about it in our diving group chat! You'd think she might be a bit more concerned about her moirail, but I digress...

Now, naturally, I'm sending an apology package of edible fruits dipped in sugary confectionery, but I'm so embarrassed. I feel horrible about dragging her moirail into this, in the worst way possible, and even more humiliated now that this is becoming a running joke among our diving group. Has anyone else managed to properly make ammends for sending a threatening package to the wrong person? Is there anything more I can do? Should I tell the clown about her real reasons for being irritated as a means of revenge, or will that only make things worse? Should I just swallow it with grace and keep my tongue in check? Any advice is welcome. ❀

.

#chƐck your adrƐssƐs nƐxt t1mƐ anon #also you should totally tƐll a8out the purplƐ8lood #wh1lƐ 1t would makƐ th1ngs hƐlla mƐssy 1t would 8Ɛ qu1tƐ fun to watch th1s all go down #8ut of coursƐ that 1s just mƐ #good luck out thƐrƐ anon #tifu #today i fucked up #unreality

[hederasgarden]

six x reader where the reader is his gf and she gets kidnapped by Lyold as leverage over him?

This plot point is going to appear in my sequel to Safe With Me. The reader from that story is going to get kidnapped by Lloyd's men along with Claire. I'll be taking some liberties with the story to make it my own but Lloyd will make an appearance and as much as I loathe his character he's kinda fun to write.

Below the cut is a small snippet from that story. Warnings for Lloyd being Lloyd, unwanted sexual touching and threats.

You twist in Lloyd's hold, looking back at Claire. She's crying and struggling against the two men who drag her from the room. The look on her face is pure terror, fear for you and her uncle. You know there's nothing you can do to protect her from this and that hurts.

"It's going to be okay, Claire," you promise her. "He's coming. Just hold on, honey."

"Hen," she cries, her tear-stained face the last thing you see before the doors shut firmly and she's gone. You close your eyes and clench your jaw to keep the tears at bay. As scared as you are, a part of you is relieved she won't have to witness whatever is about to happen. You can tell from the look on Fitz's face it won't be good.

"Well, that was touching," Lloyd says, sounding bored. "Now, this one doesn't have a heart condition, right?" he questions Fitz, running a hand down your side. His touch makes your stomach turn and you try to jerk away, but his hold on you is too tight.

"You touch either of them and I'm going to nail you to the wall," Fitz growls, lunging for him.

He doesn't make it far before he's forced into a chair and bound to it. When you meet his gaze, his expression softens and you see the regret and apology in his eyes. You jaw trembles and you nod, wanting him to know you understand.

"You want a heart condition, sunshine?" Lloyd asks you, nuzzling your neck and pressing his crotch firmly to your ass. "Cause I can give you some palpitations if the old man doesn't cooperate."

"I'd rather eat a bag of glass," you manage to grit out, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear.

"Oh, you're going to be fun," he tells you, manhandling you into sitting on his lap as he takes a seat across from Fitz. He keeps you in place with a strong arm across your middle while his other hand rises to stroke the skin of your face. "So, old man…how do you want to do this? You can tell me who your boy sent that package to in Prague or I can start having fun with the babysitter. What's it gonna be?"

#is #sierra six thoughts #sierra six x reader #court gentry x reader #📦

[msanonymous]

Dear Friend…

We've known each other since kindergarten, but we weren't best friends then. At that time you were just my best friend's best friend. She used to tell me stories about your time together. I've never admitted it before but I've wanted to be friends with you since then. But I was scared to speak, like I'm today. At that time we were just two classmates who passed salaam in the corridors and smiles in the middle of the class while making eye contact. But somehow now you're the favourite friend of mine. (You're so much more than just a favourite friend but I'm scared to use those terms, I didn't like the outcome of the last time I used those words.) I guess our Lord has a special way to make his servants meet. And I'll be forever grateful to Him for you.

I hope one day, I find a way to make your heart feel better because of me, the same way you make mine because of you.

You send me pictures of the Moon with captions like "For my lune." You never learned French but you still use those words for me.

You ask me about the books I'm reading, listen to those rants of mine about fictional heroes and say "But I know in your destiny there's someone written even better than them." just to make both of us laugh.

While some of the people in my life made fun of my poetry phase, you encouraged me to continue to do what I like. You read my words even when you don't like reading, even when it makes you feel sleepy, you read all my words. Said "If you ever wrote a book, I'd be the first one to read it." I don't know if I ever would, but I believe in your words, you definitely would.

And every time we text you ask if I ate? As if it's something you find worthy enough to concern about and scold me if I say no.

Every time I degrade myself in some way, you always say "You're something special, a true gift from my Lord" I always have a hard time believing those words because what if it's not the truth, but only your generosity? And no one else says those things to someone like me. But I guess you're different, maybe you see something in me that others don't, that even I myself couldn't find.

You sent me a gift package a few months before with a butterfly bookmark in it, hand-painted by you, with my favourite colours, bluish shades of teal. How did you know at that time that butterflies make my eyes shine? I asked you, "You like butterflies?" And you said "Yes! You too?" I hope I get to see them once with you, I want to see which way your eyes glint when you see them.

Maybe our hearts were old friends somewhere before, somewhere not here, somewhere up in the sky- Alam-e-Arwah, I first heard about it from my mother, when I was 4 years old. I didn't know you then (but I wish I did, life would be bearable with you around) and the 2nd time in a lecture, I thought of you then. The Sheikh said the phrase 'Divinely appointed friends' and the only face that came to my mind was yours. Have you ever thought of me too?

Whenever I get tired of my hardships, you remind me of "فَإِنَّ مَعَ الْعُسْرِ يُسْرًا" I wonder if I would've survived this life of mine without you. No, I guess. But I know I'll continue to fight, because you told me once "Paradise will be incomplete without you" when I read that text of yours I cried. 'Cause how could someone be this kind to a stranger. Maybe Allah gave you that talent specifically.

Today, you completed 18 years of your life, I wasn't there for all of it. But I hope I get to stay by your side till we reach our eternal home. I'm sorry I never did something special for you but I hope these words which are so close to my heart find their way to you.

~ms.anonymous

#letters i never sent

[neurodiversebones]

i'm sorry you're having a hard time :( recovery is tough, but i believe in you! if you're comfortable, do you wanna share your recovery headcanons for those characters?

i hope things get better for you soon 💖 you've got this!

thank you !!! i hope things get easier soon as well bc . hhh !!! this is a Lot !!! you are so sweet <33 as for the headcanons i would be Delighted to share them (i am always so nervous to talk abt ed hc's , even if it's recovery related bc i am So Scared of being accused of romanticizing it 😭) . obvious tw for ed's below the cut !

cam :

in recovery from anorexia (AN-R) !

she is like me frfr in that recovery is a Long road for her . she's struggled for a long time, and so recovery is kind of a lifelong process rather than something she can simply Finish and be okay

her ocd has contributed a lot to her ed, and so ed recovery goes hand in hand with ocd recovery. with this, her anxiety starts to go down a Lot !

she has . a lot of guilt pertaining to her ed . guilt over having it, guilt over getting better, guilt over literally Everything . this is something she is Working On in therapy but boy is it a big hurdle

she . really never learned how to cook much , and so something that is helping her associate food with Good Times is learning how ! arastoo is teaching her a lot- these are her favourite nights, being in the kitchen with him and learning how to make something new. he shares his cultural dishes with her and she is so excited about this <3 (she is still not a very good cook because that is just how cam Is . takeout girlie for life .)

brennan :

in recovery from arfid ! as well as orthorexic tendencies

her arfid is specifically related to both sensory issues (hello fellow autistic arfid havers) and trauma (foster care = unreliable access to food)

trying new things is really hard for her- she has a very strict list of foods she eats and has very rarely strayed from that over the years. it takes a few tries before actually being able to eat something new- she needs to be able to look at it, feel the texture, experience the smell and other sensations that come along with it .

her arfid did go generally unnoticed because her safe foods would be considered "atypical"- she doesn't eat highly processed or packaged foods, and almost all of her safe foods are considered "health foods" (thank you orthorexia) .

booth tries new things with her- when she challenges a fear food, he'll try one of her "healthy" foods that he usually wouldn't be a fan of . it helps her to recognize that balance is both possible and healthy , and they are both finding new things they enjoy ! she learned that she rlly enjoys popcorn and sour candy , and he is surprisingly into quinoa now

hodgins :

recovering from ednos / osfed !

his ed was very heavily based in his gender dysphoria , so being able to transition has helped a LOT . a big part of why he recovered was so he could get top surgery without it posing a risk to his health

[SEASON 3 AND SEASON 11 SPOILERS HERE] trauma also plays a big part- he really, really struggled after zack was sent away, as well as after his accident . it's a coping mechanism for him- so in times of stress, he's prone to turn back and relapse

his relationships with others help- his love for angela, his love for his kids, his love for his friends at work- they all keep him grounded and give him something to live for. he wants to be around as long as possible to spend more time with them <3

angela is literally the most patient EVER and it makes him feel so loved and supported (tbh . i have angela headcanons too but my brain is telling me that's Too Many . let me know if u wanna hear those too .)

[TRIGGER WARNING : SH MENTION] he is also in recovery from sh and is almost a year clean which is such a win jack hodgins so cool era

that is all !!!!! i Think about them a lot because all of the bones characters are my comfort characters , so thinking abt them dealing w the stuff i am helps me through a Lot . i love these guys so much they deserve the world

#tw ed #also zack has arfid i Know it #these hc's are so important to me but they're scary to talk about bc . Judgement . #but !!! woo #my headcanons #bones headcanons #mental health headcanons #recovery headcanons

[asterjennifer]

@sketchyy-pencil-blog on Tumblr

Blow

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: SE Saeran & Vanderwood (X reader)

Category: Light Angst (Comfort)

Warnings: X

Word count: 27398

Summary: A good heart to heart talk about feelings can open new doors for discovery.

To Saeran, Vanderwood knows surprisingly much about this type of relationship problem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tsk... Ah, this is so dumb.” 

He mumbled into the plastic of the vaporizer. Why again did Zen gifted it to him after mentioning the interest of many flavours they could be filled up with instead of a normal cigarette, which smelled just awful altogether.

At least it's strawberry…

The thought came through by utter annoyance. That frustration clinging to his back much like the demons in his head staying stuck. He sighed the smoke out; less of a headache than dealing with the whole group of charity lovers and one specific member in particular.

Why did I agree to this in the first place.

A mental image of his older twin brother flashed in front of the tired, ocean colored eyes. Of course he's aware what the reasons had been upfront; it's not as if anyone lied about their intentions.

Not these people… He thought bitter. I'm the outcast here and not them. Goddamn it.

Another intake of the electrical smoke and his gaze followed the stream of the river that's pulling through the entire city of their hometown. At night the stars, moon, even the lantern lights on the sides of the bridge reflected right back. A play of light to count the amount double at late hours.

“Here you are, boy.”

The voice behind didn't surprise him in the slightest. He'd known if Saeoyung wouldn't have come himself, he would absolutely sent out someone else to check on his brother. Some things never changed.

“What do you want.”

He blowed his breath unimpressed, feeling the presence behind him cross arms over his broad chest. Vanderwood eyed the other redhead skeptically, although he's doing nothing but leaning against the bridge of the river in peace.

“You fucked off as soon as she came in. So I figured I make sure you don't get depressed all alone.”

Saeran's left eye flinched by the words, or rather the exposure.

So Saeoyung didn't sent him. Am I being pampered by this whole organization now? I thought he's not caring about it anyway…

His shoulders tensed slightly and released themselves once the other joined next to him on the ice cold railing. Saeran watched out of the corner of his eye how Vanderwood joined on the train, yet pulled out a normal package of cigarettes in contrast.

“You know, boy…”

He started as he placed it between his lips while looking for the lighter.

“You can hide all you want. Ain't helping you running from whatever's going on.”

The redhead rolled his eyes at the advice. His arms were slacking over the metal, whether it's the cool of the night or the light wind passing through; if it's just a breeze at best. Saeran couldn't feel by how long he's already out. It was unnoticed. After a growl from Vanderwood having trouble get the fire on, he leaned in to watch the night sky as well. 

At least he's not going on my nerves…

Saeran briefly looked at his vaporizer. Wondering what's more unhealthy in the end of the day. Both wouldn't be good either way, it really didn't matter.

“Are you like,” the former agent waved his hand up. “Scared of her or something?”

“Doesn't concern you.” 

He immediately regretted the sour undertone of his counter. However, the older one only wheezed amused.

“Damn right you are, boy.”

Then why are you bothering me here… Can't I have at least one break in my life? I just want some peace and quiet.

Vanderwood's stare on Saeran was quite obvious in the message it held. He scanned his facial expression as well as the many features. Only to find one particular lie. To the redhead's misery; for a former agent under pressure daily, such unreadable clues' a children's play to figure.

“So it really is her, huh.”

He sounded unimpressed. Like it's no shocking news. As if it wasn't realistic to have any other outcome. Saeran's head lowered to see the stones underneath the layers of water better.

“Why are you bothering me about this–”

“Because this is the fifth time you storm out when she comes into the same place.”

The smell of wet nature rose into the redhead's nose after inhaling sharply. Out of the corner of his eye, Vanderwood noted the quick intake of air.

What do you know.

They remained in silence for a while. Saeran focused on the flowing water only a meter away from his feet, the weak humming of cars passing by further away. The wooden bridge occasionally cracking when one of them moved weight. The dark of the night resembling a blanket to hide in. The redhead took another strawberry tasing pull while leaving the man a few inches away to take his own smoke. His face hard to move; Saeran just shurgged.

“I don't wanna talk to her.”

He said petty, perhaps a bit scared by how his voice wavered for a second. Vanderwood tapped off the ashes into the river, raising an eyebrow at the moon.

“Sure as hell she wants to talk to you, though. She is asking about you every fucking time we meet as a group.”

He scoffed by the words.

“Ah fuck that, she always asks for you. She probably would ask about you even on a godforsaken funeral or something.”

The implications of his presence being as important to her left unwanted color to crawl over Saeran's cheeks. His red strands desperately trying to hide it, failing horribly regardless.

“That's not true.”

He hugged his arms tighter to his body by the sudden string hitting his chest. Vanderwood rested his elbow on the railing as he shook his head.

“Denying reality won't work,” he simply said. “What is the problem anyway…”

He wondered in genuine confusion since Saeran couldn't detect a hint of judgement.

“Don't you like… Like her too? Aren't you some pair of lovebirds?”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean– How would anyone understand any of the things we have. What is a label worth in a stupid situation like this…!?

His mind hissed angry into itself. All he did on the outside, however, was frown deeply while closing his eyes.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

He mumbled through gritted teeth. But the other didn't let loose when sighing out.

“Don't lie to me. I think every person with a pair of functional eyes can see it.”

Again, he blushed because of the bluntness in the honestly. So shameless.

“Look, you're right. This ain't my business.”

Vanderwood stated when flipping the rest cigarette away to also cross his arms, eyes calmly, almost unfocused about the conversation while staring up.

“But you're making shit unnecessary difficult. She's not her usual self when taking care of her tasks. She's lacking passion.”

That's true… They lately mentioned something about it in the chatrooms. Is it true? Is she that affected by everything?

“And you obviously can't stand being in the same room as her. Saeoyung's worries about it make by ears bleed.

Vanderwood rubbed his temple to rid the headache that's already settling in just thinking about the cries of the older twin. The corner of Saeran's lip twitched, full of uncertainty as his shoulders tensed harshly as a side effect.

“I just–” His voice broke off, head tearing to the other side. “I'm no good for her and she should finally get around to it.”

The beat of his heart began to race. Finally he spat out what's been plaguing his mind forever, this nasty whisper in moments of doubt. He truly loathed how they forced him to behave towards her. Rough when needing to be gentle, quite taken for granted on her part already. Mean when supposed to be kindhearted in return. Shutting her out after her working so hard doing her best opening him up. She'd cried enough already for a lifetime due to him; despite her not always admitting it. She's the prefect example of a daisy as he's just stomping all over her once she felt recovered from the step moments ago. He bit down the inside of his cheek to suppress the angered growl threatening to tear apart his throat. All the history in his life having him painted like the monster he felt himself becoming. It's sickening to himself; why should she find a single facture of appeal in someone so messed up? She's the metaphorical light. That's how they often referred to her as and it's fitting. His life's darkness itself, thus he's dark.

All you do his hurting and breaking her apart when she's literally having the entire RFA there for herself. A fucking CEO, a charming actor, a talented assistant, a smart college student… You know how much better Saeoyung would be for her–!

He rubbed his hand over his forehead once the voices won on volume. Vanderwood saw the deep frown on the redhead's face after paying attention to his body language.

“Boy.”

Saeran snapped out of the circle abruptly; meeting the face of Vanderwood unintentionally. The brown eyes spoke an foreign language to the redhead which he couldn't speak.

“You do realize this girl is down for you, right? Why are you pushing her away when you both are in agreement about this.”

The question mocked the younger twin enough in privacy all the time, now even the external voices called him out on it. He buried his eyes behind his hand, his posture slacking into a much smaller one.

“Because I'm not perfect for her.”

He said in the most self-pity way and it left him embarrassed.

“Someone normal would be good for her. Heck– Saeoyung already is perfect enough for her!”

He busted out, standing straight when moving his arms because of the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

“I mean, have you seen them together?? He's kind to her, he's soft, he's loving and open about his emotions… How could I–”

How could I ever compete with that…

He groaned when not being able to say it out loud. It's his logic regardless; how should he compete with people like his brother. The sparkle igniting inside her eyes whenever he placed an arm around her spoke walls. How should a man that hurt her feelings keep her when there's a much warmer option right in front of her feet. Why would anyone stay with him.

I can never compete with that.

It worked him up to the point of feeling hot tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, so it's because you're scared you're no good for her.”

Saeran didn't have to confirm the former agent to puzzle the pieces together. He only leaned back against the railing. Vanderwood tapped his Index finger in a silent rhythm at the metal, nodding his head in absent minded manner.

“Boy, let me tell you something…”

He said pointing his other finger to the river.

“There are they; all these reasons why you think he's so perfect for her.”

Then he pointed his thumb towards the other side.

“And that is what she views as perfect.”

Saeran's visible confusion had the older one gather some better words together. He turned to him, looking right through his eyes in order to see beyond. A strict albeit calm aura Saeran had rarely witnessed in life.

“You can't decide what's prefect for her, you idiot.”

They turned back forward to rest more. Vanderwood took out another cigarette, Saeran got conscious of his own vaporizer again and pushed the off button.

“You think she needs someone who's romantic? Kind, soft, open about emotions and whatnot. If that would be the case she would date him.”

He stated so confidential that Saeran almost couldn't doubt it. Vanderwood blowed another breath into the cold night air, it's there without any source of light near by.

“But the girl likes you.”

He pointed to the redhead with the cigarette ever so casually.

“That means she has different definition of perfect, you know.”

“I… I don't get it.”

“It's easy. She just needs other things than loving touch and soft kisses or whatever shit is considered romantic.”

Saeran couldn't help the short, fainted smile coming alive before dying down. Instead he stared back into the water and Vanderwood knew what it meant. There the doubt went wandering around yet again.

“If she likes you, she seeks something other than that.”

The gears started rattling above the redhead with the statement hanging in the air.

But what would that be? I don't have anything… I am nothing special. On the contrary. I'm a horrible person. Criminal… Awkward and issue-driven… Murderer…

He narrowed his eyes while thinking through honest reasons what would be considered perfect from her perspective.

He's making fun of me after all, isn't he.

The former agent felt torn until he raised his eyebrows at the thoughts.

“Maybe she needs a firm hand holding her grounded and humble.”

That made Saeran snap back to him.

“She might need someone who respects her desire for space. Or knows how social anxiety feels, you both share that on spiritual level.”

The weightless accusation brought in some humor into the otherwise thick atmosphere. 

“Someone not sugarcoating shit. Just being upfront even if it hurts; she does value truth more than anything else.”

Vanderwood smirked himself when collecting the reasons, it came easier to him than suspected.

“Maybe she likes a guy who she can help open up. Girls like fixing broken men.”

“That's cliche bullshit.”

A second of dead silence remained until the both exchanged a humorous chuckle. Vanderwood smoked his cigarette, secretly gifting Saeran some time to sort out the options he's presented with. All these explanations why he might not be that terrible for her after all.

“I think another reason why she likes you is… Since you're rough, she maybe needs a counterpart.”

He explained that small range of psychology he's learned about at one of his countless training sessions at the agency about human behavior.

“They say people look for what they need more of in their lives. Resulting in either looking for a copy or someone opposite.”

They gazed at each other and Vanderwood poked his finger to the redhead's chest.

“She surely tough, but she's a warm woman in heart.”

They agreed on it without argument. Having Vanderwood push the younger one playfully back.

“Who knows… Maybe she finds a lot in that edgy and rough personality you have.”

Edgy huh. Well thanks for nothing.

Ignoring the extra comment about his behavior; Saeran reflected back at the glitter of the night sky down on earth. How true could it be? Would she feel understood when asking her about this kind of theory? She did stated before she's not going to abandon him for anything, not even if he's being nasty to others or ugly towards her. After all, considering her empathy, he realized soon she's able to get behind his actions better than anyone had. Even better than his own twin brother at times.

She's a wonder… But why should I be blessed with this? Her love is suited better for someone… else? Or is it now?

The unsure feeling beating inside his chest's impossible to ignore. Vanderwood leaned back, stretching his arms up.

“Ahh alright. That's enough sulking, boy. You can take it from someone how had to study this type of stuff for survival.”

His hand on Saeran's shoulder was heavy for a moment, yet when patting it's a lot lighter for his entire body.

“You better now? Can we go inside?”

He's waiting for my agreement. I should ask her about this next time we're alone to actually find out the acceptable answer. But I suppose for now I can only… Hope for the best with her.

The redhead hummed after learning back as well. Vanderwood appeared satisfied once they both got on the move; the entire RFA waited for there arrival at this point. Saeran crossed his arms above each other while staring up. The sparkle of hope glowing brighter than lighting both frightened and calmed him. It dwarfed the night sky. Maybe he's not all wrong for her if she truly found worth inside his wasted potential. However that happened.

“Thanks.”

He said quietly, much to Vanderwood's enjoyment given he rolled his eyes in an affectionate way.

“Yeah, yeah… You're young, you'll get there. But don't run off for fuck's sake. Otherwise I have to taser you too.”

#mystic messenger #mm #mysme #saeran choi #saeran #mystic messenger saeran #se Saeran #secret ending saeran #saeran x mc #secret ending #mystic messenger vanderwood #vanderwood #saeran & vanderwood #comfort #fluff #angst #ff #au #conversations #confession #heart to heart #relationship advice #advice

[fratboykate]

Have you ever tried to get CFAU out there? We need that as a show ASAP.

Lol...no. And the possibility of it (or anything like it happening in general) becomes grimmer every day. Listen, I'm probably about to POP OFF, but if you want to know how the internet is ruining rep in the industry, then give it a read. If not, godspeed. But you guys should know what you're doing every time you fuckos yet outraged about even the smallest bullshit.

The vast majority of straight actors are now passing on every queer role they get offered because they're terrified of being “canceled”. Apply the same thing to non-Jewish actors playing Jewish roles. Or this and that and that other identity. Y'all have turned this into a climate where people are not allowed to act anymore. The point of acting is inhabiting someone else's body and story, but y’all seemingly want things to go down to specific nationalities. "How dare this non-French person play a French character?!" That's where we're headed at this point.

You guys fail to fucking understand that, whether you like it or not, films and shows don't get made until they have recognizable talent attached. Even then, there are SO MANYYYYY projects with prime fucking packages that aren't selling right now. Series and movies with ensembles of A+ listers as stars and famous showrunners and directors that legit won't find a buyer. That's the market we're currently in.

How many famous, openly queer women do you know? I'm talking face and name recognition that would get a film or show easily made??? Little to none, right? There are VERY FEW (openly) queer actresses in the industry in general and even less so in that A/B Lister level that can actually get things funded and greenlit. What you guys have done is created a hostile fucking environment where actors don't want to take queer roles anymore and what happens if you can't find bankable talent to star in your movie or show??? IT DOESN'T GET FUCKING MADE. The project dies and never sees the light of day. So, as a result of your fake outrage machine, you will create LESS rep on screen instead or more.

I, for example, write projects that are intrinsically queer and from which you can't extricate the inherent queerness. That shit isn’t going anywhere because it’s in the DNA of the script. What do you think is going to happen/is happening when a show or a movie can't find an actor to play a queer character if the script doesn't entirely revolve around their queerness? The character will be rewritten and turned straight or cut out altogether. What do you think will happen when you're clamoring for XYZ ship to become canon on a show and one or both actors say "I'm not comfortable playing a queer character because I don't want to get canceled."??? It's not gonna happen. YOU guys are fucking representation over, not helping it.

It's a veryyyyyy real problem. I'm seeing producer friends trying to put films together right now going through it. No one they've sent scripts with queer characters this year to will touch them. And it's not homophobia. It's literally actors telling them directly "I won't play queer characters anymore because I'm afraid of the backlash." That's the culture you've created, one which will only affect us in the long run.

Hell, I know it first hand. We're trying to package one of my scripts right now and we've already had two prominent actresses pass. One was literally THIS WEEK. I met with her and she outright said to me - TO MY FACE - that she was scared of the internet's response. She said she didn't think "She could sit in press interviews and justify taking this role when it's not her story." She and I talked for an hour and about 20-25 minutes of that was she expressing how uncomfortable she was BECAUSE of the internet. I did my best to assuage her fears during the meeting and she still passed days later. Both she and her agent love the script, which is why she even took the meeting in the first place. But, at the end of the day, when she was weighing risks, she didn't think it was worth enraging the online mob and possibly getting vilely attacked over it.

Let me bring up a tangible example of how your outrage kills projects. Do you remember the biopic where Scarlett J. was supposed to play the lead as a trans man from the 1800s-1900s? Y'all grabbed your pitchforks and got her to back out of the project. Where is the movie now??? The film didn't get made, did it? Because without a name like Scarlett fronting it, that movie was never going to get made. Ignore Scarlett's past. Ignore her altogether for a second and pretend this was any other A-List actress. Let me ask you: would you rather have the actress play the role with genuine respect for the project/character and have a movie that could've put the life of an iconic trans man out there for people who needed to see it...or would you rather have it die and get fucking nothing? In one scenario, you potentially get a film with a major star that would've been watched by a large swath of the general population, could've touched on important queer issues, and probably have a slew of other queer performers in the film as supporting actors. It might have been imperfect rep by the internet's standards, but it would've still been exposure for potentially more than one group in the community. On the other side, you have the reality of what happened now: no big name, no movie, no story being told, no rep AT ALL. Think about what you prefer with your big girl and boy brains.

Truthfully, I don't know that Hailee would've signed up to do Dickinson in today's climate. Dickinson helped Ella figure out she was queer, but she was also a straight woman coming into it. Imagine what a loss that would've been. If they were casting Lexa in 2022 and told Alycia upfront that Lexa would be limp wristed, I doubt she would've taken it. Think about all the iconic queer ships of the last...ten years and ponder how many of them involve actual queer women. Now think about how most of them wouldn't happen with those actors that brought the stories to life because they're terrified of the vitriolic faux outrage mob. Would you rather a straight woman play a queer character, or would you rather have no queer character at all?

You can scream till you’re blue in the face about "WELL, THE INDUSTRY SHOULD CHANGE AND THEY SHOULD CAST UNKNOWNS TO PLAY THESE CHARACTERS". Sure sure, that's all fine and dandy in your fantasy land, but that’s not the real world. When you ask an investor/company/studio to put millions of dollars on the line, they want guarantees that they're getting their money back. You can only even remotely attempt that by putting faces people recognize on the screen. This isn’t a game and it isn't charity. They're not doing this shit out of the kindness of their hearts. These are real investments of cold hard cash that people are making and in their minds, the easiest way to ensure those investments is by having talent audiences are going to watch. Especially when their competition is your favorite thing in the world: Disney/Marvel and franchises. Fewer and fewer movies get made every year. Why? Because investors and studios would prefer to pour money into a "guaranteed" thing like a pile of hot garbage, 300 million dollar budget, superhero movie with a bankable name, over making ten 30 million dollar movies that they don't know if they're going to lose money on. Some actors still do things outside tentpoles, but who is left to play the queer roles if they're running from our stories BECAUSE OF YOU? Who is going to be the thing that attracts investors? No one. Then we get jack shit. And that, that is a problem of your own doing.

So when someone writes a really fucking fantastic project with...idk...a queer Jewish lead (or just something in the vein of CFAU) that you would've loved to watch/would've been wonderful for the community and no actor will touch it because you've made any type of diverging from one's specific identity a crime then you have no one to blame but yourself. You'll never know the project existed because you killed it and it didn't get made, but trust meeeeeeeeeee...y'all are killing outstanding projects every day with this shit.

LET.PEOPLE.ACT. That's the whole goddamn fucking point. As an actor, you're supposed to act like something other than yourself. You're supposed to embody and explore different experiences. If you can only play EXACTLY what you are, then what the fuck is the point. What are we even doing?

Cut all this shit out.

#also don't reblog this #leave it here #rants #hollywood #anonymous #answers

[monk-of-figaro]

Fanmerch: おじゅ (Ohju/ouka)

Early in December 2023, one of my favorite artists posted that she was going to be selling a 2024 daily calendar for the 30th anniversary of Final Fantasy VI.

I was so excited for this that I immediately went through the processes of setting up a shipping account for purchasing items from Japan to be shipped to the US.

The calendar arrived last week and I'm ecstatic. For lots of reasons. I don't even know where to start.

First, let me say that this artist - whose handle is Ohju (おじゅ), and whose store name is Ouka (追歌) - is an absolutely delightful and generous person. It's because of her help that I was able to learn how to set up the process of shipping to the US. She's fielded some of my weird (but hopefully respectful) questions, and has overall just been extremely kind and patient when she didn't need to be. A very sincere and appreciative どうもありがとうございます to her. ❤️

Okay, the next amazing thing is that she sent me more than just the calendar. In fact, the package I received included the following items that I was not expecting:

3 postcards (one of which is a GORGEOUS illustration of Hydaelyn from FFXIV)

3 sheets of stickers

1 sheet of stamps

4 sheets of stationary

A mini zine she made named Relic Hearts that features illustrations of various FF6 accessories (this is akin to her amazing art depicting FF6 weapons for SWORDTEMBER 2020)

A handwritten envelope with a handwritten note inside it. HANDWRITTEN, people! That's a touch of love right there!

Here are some pictures of these delightful extras. The first picture is how everything was packaged when it arrived.

(I didn't realize until later that my dog can be seen in the picture below. Whoops! 😂)

Here are a couple of pages from the Relic Hearts zine:

To reiterate, these are all things that were sent in addition to the calendar, which I haven't even talked about yet. I was truly blown away and became giddy like a child, like they were a bunch of surprise birthday gifts. THANK YOU for all these extras, Ohju-san! 🤩

So - the calendar itself. The first part is a 36-page booklet that contains empty spaces labeled with a month and day. The second part is a small, prism-shaped desk display containing seven sets of peelable stickers. The stickers are similarly labeled with a month and day, and the idea is that each day you peel off the current day's sticker and put it in the matching space in the booklet.

Her illustration on this depicts the process much more clearly than my bumbling text.

The dates in the empty spaces in the booklet are sometimes sequential, but sometimes not, so you can't always predict how the stickers are going to line up.

Each page in the calendar also contains some reflections and thoughts from Ohju-san herself about FF6, detailing some of her own history with the game as well as some of her own headcanons.

The calendar doesn't "start" until April 1st, 2024, so for now I'm just holding onto everything. I'm honestly a little scared to even use it; everything is so beautiful that part of me wants to just preserve it in its packaging forever. But that's not what Ohju-san intended, so come April 1st, I'll peel my first sticker to put into the booklet, and will then have another 364 days to look forward to.

Finally, a few other artists also contributed pieces to the calendar. I haven't seen any of their pieces yet, but six pages of the calendar are dedicated for their stickers, so I know which dates will be theirs.

I'm intentionally limiting the pictures I post in order to respect Ohju-san and the other artists' work. But here are a few pictures of the calendar materials.

There's even a guide sheet for where everything goes, just in case you get lost (which I absolutely will).

Anyway, this is one of the most amazing collections of fan merchandise I've ever seen. I'm extremely grateful to Ohju-san, and I can't wait to start using this calendar.

Please check out all her other artwork. Honestly, everything is stunning. She can be found:

https://narche.tumblr.com/

https://twitter.com/ojup

Once again, どうもありがとうございます, おじゅさん (@narche)! ❤️

#ff6 #ff6 fanmerch #ohju #ouka #おじゅ #追歌

[milkywaystarboy]

it's so weird ending a relationship you've been in for multiple years. introduced them to family, they took your last name, you thought that this was a fixture. immutable.

change happens regardless. it's a hard realization to come to, that you're not the same people you were and that as such you're not a good fit as a couple any more. honestly, the new understanding of myself that i gained over the years is what made it harder to accept the change that was happening and act on it.

i have learned that i'm autistic with a pda profile, i have adhd, i'm part of an o.s.d.d. system, and i'm chronically ill/physically disabled. the process of setting aside time for myself to unpack *all* of that trauma; the effects those things have, individually and comorbidly, on me and the way i exist in this world; it has been one of the most tumultuous times of my life. and when i needed support - when i was stumbling through all of this, knocking my knees on half-submerged memories and desperately trying to patch up old wounds - i received none from my spouse.

it's not fair to say that neither of us tried. they tried to engage me as i was drifting, that's true. and i tried to find ways to bridge the gap and offer solutions to the problems they placed before me. however, they ultimately didn't accept the solutions. it was too much reliant on them, they said; too much work on only their part, and it was bad and scary to try to communicate. alright.

((i try not be bitter about how easy it was for them to work through trauma so they could have sex, but when it came to working through trauma to communicate effectively with their spouse, that was asking too much. i try very hard not be bitter about it, and i usually fail every other day. but sometimes i don't. that's progress i think.))

in unmasking my autism, i have also unmasked us as a whole system. skill regression leading to doubt of identity and ability, do i even know what it is to love? to love romantically? have i always been in this much physical pain? especially with a pda profile - pathological demand avoidance, or pervasive drive for autonomy - realizing that i've been in fight or flight mode for my entire life with no reprieve is both exhausting and relieving, in a way. i understand many things better now, and i can take steps to care for myself better, be true to myself. but it's not without its struggles.

it scares me that my adhd makes me forget about people. that if i don't talk to them actively, every day, they fade from the forefront of my thoughts. i know that without the expectations that society puts on us, i could not speak to someone for years and come back to find them and feel the same as if nothing had changed. still view them as a friend; still fall into the easy pattern of comfort and familiarity. but other people aren't like that. they assume that because things have gone quiet, the relationship has eroded.

it has taken work but i have made a few steps towards bein more present for the people i care about. sendin an emoji or a simple message, just to check in, to let them know i thought of them. am always thinking of them. it feels like stepping against the tide. wading upstream. it feels like working against what is natural for me but if it's what i have to do to keep the people who still care about me then i will do it.

i think about the videos i sent to my ex about autism and what pda is, how it affects my interaction with the world. i didn't have the words before this year to describe what was going on or ask for help, but as soon as i did, i tried to communicate it. i don't know if they ever watched any of them, or cared to understand them. i know there were things i could have done better... but there were things they could have done better, too.

we ended things mutually over a month ago. it is so hard to watch them be easily and happily affectionate with their boyfriend and girlfriend. it hurts to see their last name changed to his on their packages. it makes me bitter to realize thks is what they've had the whole time, while i've had nothing. ((i am less better about it with each day that passes; is that progress?)) it stings to feel like i'm the one expected to apologize and admit i fucked up, while they keep piling accusations on me and never admitting to their own mistakes.

but every day, i heal a little bit. i am shown that i deserve the things i desire and that there are people who will give it to me. people who communicate with me wholeheartedly and honestly, to the exhaustive degree required by my nature. i believe a little more that i can find true contentment.

#ventposting here bc i don't wanna do it anywhere else but wanna get it off my chest #i'm okay i jus wanted a place to dump all this #i don't blame them any more than i blame myself but sometimes it feels like the opposite is true for them #anyway. anyone got any good coming of age stories for people in their late 20s? #i'm turnin 28 soon n it really feels like i'm turnin 18 all over again

[beebeebunni]

I must regale you all with the most exciting thing to happen at work yesterday. TL;DR: There was a live racoon stuck in one of our trucks. Bunch of supervisors (all guys) stood around the truck door trying to figure out what to do. Backed truck out into yard and scared it out, or so I'm told.

This involves two departments Sort Aisle (where I am) and the Unload (where the trucks come to well get unloaded. Now the Unload is connected wo the Sort Aisle through belts that go into the trucks so the stuff coming out can get sent to the proper area. . So between where I stand and the truck door there is roughly a foot of moving belts and space. Other important info is that when packages get sent they're usually on palettes and are basically wrap with plastic wrap to keep things from flying all over the place in the truck. Last night, in the truck across from me the Unload Supervisor was finishing out a truck when he freaks and comes running out yelling over to my Supervisor that there is a racoon. At which point we all stop and go "What?" My supervisor goes over to see what the other was talking about, and yells over to us that there is a racoon trapped in the plastic wrap of a palette. After some radio chatter and then trying to figure out what to do I hear from the walkway underneath the belt the head supervisor go "There's a racoon?!" Queue him, his assistant supervisor, four other supervisors that I assume had nothing else to do, and two maintenance guys suddenly going int he truck, confirming that it is in fact a live racoon then noping out the truck. Sadly, head sup sent me to Small Sort so I didn't see them resolve the issue. Only to find out when I get up to Smalls, I wasn't actually needed, but ended up staying anyway cause someone wanted to go home early. Though did find that the news of the racoon hadn't spread that far cause when the Smalls supervisor asked if the Sort Aisle was heavy I replied with "Well, the one side is a bit of a mess, but that's just cause they kept stopping to try and see the racoon in the truck." He was shocked to say the least. Luckily, I was not left hanging the rest of the night as one of the full-timers from the Unload came up, and I got ask her if they got the racoon. Apparently they just backed the truck out into the yard, and scared the little fella out. Still mad I missed it.

#work post #there was a live racoon stuck in a truck #most exciting thing to happen #mom said we shoulda kept him as a mascot #text post

[coppeliafoxworth]

January 22nd 2023

Let's start with yesterday.

Yesterday was Saturday so I didn't have work.  I decided that I hated the way my new song sounded so I deleted it, apologies if you did like it.  I've been reworking and editing it to try and find a sound that I like.

I ended up waking up really early yesterday.  I woke up at seven a.m. due to my lover calling me.  Nothing dreadful happened, he just wanted to tell me that he loved me.  I rose from my bed and made myself breakfast, a plate with different fruits and vegetables on it, and sat in the living room watching YouTube.

After a couple of hours my father woke up and stole the remote from me.  The day seemed like a good day until my mother woke up.

She had planned a last-minute chore for my father and so he was pissed off.  Since my father was pissed off, my mother was pissed off.  

He was pissed to the point of as soon as the dryer went off, he was yelling at me to come fold the laundry.  I did as I was told, changed my attire, and left to my lover's house.

My parents already knew I was going to spend the night there, so I wasn't concerned about angering them more.

My lover hadn't been feeling the best since Friday.  His symptoms have pretty much cleared up by Saturday, but he still had a terrible migraine.  It was his first time having a migraine which caused him not to know what to do about it.

I took care of him.  I placed him in a cold room, with no lights on and the windows shut.  I gave him a damp towel for his forehead and made him take some Excedrin for his pain.  After a few hours of cuddling in this situation he felt better.

We were planning on going to a rodeo, but he was scared of his migraine coming back so we didn't.  Instead, we met up with an old friend and talked a bit before heading back home.  Like I stated before, I spent the night at his house.

This morning we cuddled for a couple of hours and then left to get Dunkin.  By the time we arrived back at his house it was time for me to go home.

When I arrived, there were packages waiting for me.  One of them was from Victoria's Secret for valentine's day, and the other was the three-faced-doll I ordered a few days ago.  The doll is a bit smaller than I expected but I still love him.  Turns out, Victoria's Secret sent me an extra item of what I ordered from them last time for free.  I'll use it as a back-up in case my other one breaks.

I started a new project today.  I was scrolling through Pinterest when I found a video detailing how to screen-print your own clothing.  I wanted to try it right away, so I went to the store and bought the materials needed.

-A picture frame

-Tights

-Modpodge

-Paint

-Fabric softener

-And paintbrushes

By the time I arrived home from Walmart I had to leave for a family friend's house.  Today we were having a little late Christmas where we would exchange gifts.  She loves my art and has it hanging all around her little apartment, I decided to draw a scene from her favorite movie this year.  Her favorite movie is, "The Abominable Dr. Phibes".  It's a Vincent Price movie.  I'll leave a photo of my art down below.

Once my dad defeated everyone in Uno my lover had to leave.  I kissed him goodbye and have been working on my screen-printing since then.  I'm only writing this now as I'm waiting for the Modpodge to dry.

#online diary