#I am so so old in the community's eyes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkskinned · 1 year

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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

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ozzgin · 8 months

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Santa baby are you really there?!

*hears a voice in my backyard*

FUCK SKIN WALKER

- you make Yan skinwalker i’ll do anything to get a skin walker to love me … yes I am 100% mentally stable

I'm not sure if you had something horror-esque in mind, because my immediate idea was Reader accidentally getting cursed and continuing her life completely unaware with a ""dog"" everyone is freaked out by, but she finds it cute. So more like dark comedy vibes. You be the judge. :D

Disclaimer: I have changed the name to Shapeshifter as to not delve into potentially offensive takes on native folklore. Thank you for informing my European ass.

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Shapeshifter]

On your last hiking trip, you've stumbled upon a helpless, lost dog. Or rather, it stalked you down to your cabin and spent the night in front of your window. You didn't have the heart to abandon the poor soul and so you brought it home with you. Strange things have been happening ever since and no one knows how to tell you that the monstrous coyote-like creature might be to blame. You're oblivious to everything.

Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, reader is cursed and proud

It wasn't your intention to return home with a new pet. Some might say it was written in the stars, this fateful encounter of yours. You had finished packing your supplies for a day-long hike, vehemently refusing to join your group of friends that would be guided around by a native. They’d warned you many areas of the mountainous forest were supposedly cursed or haunted, so you just scribbled the limits on your makeshift map and promised to stay on the main trails. After all, this was your chance to commune with nature. As the sun begun to set, you wondered if going by yourself was indeed a smart idea, given your lack of spatial awareness and difficulty to navigate maps. You flipped the piece of paper several times, deep in contemplation. Could it be that you’ve reached the forbidden lands? You quickly surveyed the area: based on the stuffed rag dolls hanging from old branches, and the animal skulls arranged in patterns among patches of burnt grass, it was very much a possibility. Perhaps the improvised slab that said “Stay away” in dripping crimson letters should’ve been enough of a warning, but you assumed they’d just been creative with trail markers.

You didn’t have the time to panic. Just as you were furrowing your eyebrows in a final attempt to decipher the map (at the time upside-down), your ears picked up a faint shuffle of leaves. Further away stood a dog, its glossy eyes fixated on your form. A lost puppy? It seemed to be on the larger side, but then again some breeds grow rather fast. You lowered yourself and patted your knees, whispering diminutives in an effort to call the animal over. It remained in place, staring quietly. Alright, then. You focused on finding your way back instead. Every now and then you'd turn back and see the dog, motionlessly eyeing you at a constant distance. Oh, dear. Was it lost? Frightening affair.

Back at the cabin you told the others about your discovery, with a hint of worry in your voice. You hoped the little pup had found proper shelter. You'd expected a similar reaction coming from your friends, but one of them suggested: "What if it was some shapeshifting monster? There's many legends and stories from the area." Everyone laughed and you joined hesitantly, mildly annoyed by the lack of empathy. That night you barely slept, twisting and turning under the heavy feeling of being watched. You woke up tired and nervous, dragging your feet towards the window for some fresh air. That's when you saw the same forest creature, fully awake and tall in its glory, positioned before your room. This was no coincidence. You had been plagued by the guilt of abandoning a vulnerable quadruped and you weren't about to continue as a passive observer. You strode out without a word and lifted the large dog with a huff, carrying it back in to figure out the transport logistics.

Thus started the unexpected companionship. To you, it's a lovely tale of two lost souls finding one another. Most people seem to disagree. Can you blame them? The rescued puppy you often speak of is, in the eyes of everyone else, a monstrous beast by all definitions. It resembles a coyote more than a dog, but even this description is too gentle. The fur is always raised threateningly and the protruding clusters of fangs remind one of the anatomical anomalies displayed in museums. The eyes, oh, the worst of all perhaps, bottomless depths that pull you in until you run out of air. The creature stares with the all-knowing gaze of a human. "Don't be rude", you snap at whoever dares to point these details out. "It must be a mixed breed or something."

Their persistence is truly ridiculous. You've even had guests run out in panic, claiming the dog stood on its back legs and whispered in a language unknown. Or that its shadow would morph into a grotesque man with claws and crooked antlers. Or that they've found it hunched over your sleeping form, its spine twisted outwards with jagged peaks breaking through the wild fur. Rubbish, all of it.

Strange things have been happening, no doubt, but your adopted fur-child has no blame to carry. You've been trying to distract yourself, going on dates and occasionally bringing potential suitors over. They all vanish overnight, nonchalantly leaving an empty, ruffled bed for you to wake up to. "Am I just unlucky?" You sigh, running your fingers through the coarse fur of your dog. It lowers itself under your touch, visibly enjoying the affection. For a split second, it glances out the window. By the time you come out of your depressed slump, the birds should've finished feeding on the remains. He made sure to tear and grind everything fine enough to not leave any marks behind.

That's how curses work, after all. He didn't expect, however, that you'd be utterly unaware of it. He has to give you the credit, not many people become stalked by an ancient curse and continue their life in blissful ignorance. Even more, for them to just casually pick up the haunting entity and bring it inside their home willingly...You're, uh, certainly a special one. Hence the change of plans. He was supposed to torment you into an early grave, but he's grown rather attached to your bizarre antics. And you do provide some damn good chin scratches. He's therefore satisfied with causing anguish and destruction to anything and anyone in your immediate vicinity instead. Since you've been complaining about the resulting isolation...

You wake up with a gasp, wiping your drenched forehead and checking the sheets. The dog is curled next to you, although its head is now tilted in your direction. "O-oh. It might be the loneliness talking...but I had the strangest dream." How troubling and embarrassing. Your beloved pet had turned into a deformed, monstrous man instead, pinning you down and hungrily grazing your skin with his sharp teeth. Your fearful protests eventually turned into shameless moans, your frail body at the mercy of the mysterious beast. It unfolded so vividly that your core feels sore. You stretch a sheepish hand towards your pet and abruptly stop halfway, noticing the marks diffused into your wrist, like violet smudges of watercolor. What the hell did you do last night?

The dog buries its head under the sheets and nuzzles its snout into your soft flesh. Heh. How many more disappearing guests will be needed for you to figure out your situation? He does find your obliviousness terribly amusing, as well as your willingness to clutch onto him despite his unsightly appearance. He was feeling particularly cheeky and thought of giving you a little scare, only to be once again taken aback by your neediness. He has to wonder who exactly is trapped in this situation, because your reactions to everything he does are frighteningly tempting. Maybe tonight he'll finally let you know, just as you're about to come undone beneath his heaving body. Something like, hmmm. "By the way, love, this isn't a dream." He could even add a little "woof" to tease you more.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #horror #monster x reader #monster romance #yandere oc #monster smut #monster boyfriend #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

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ashraffamily · 7 days

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Help Ashraf's Family Escape Gaza Genocide🌿❤️

Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on their list( #74 )

Vetted on X platform on this spreadsheet (#391)

I'm Ashraf from the war-torn Gaza. I've lived an entire life under siege in Gaza, facing relentless military actions and life-threatening conditions daily. In October 2023, the conflict escalated drastically, devastating my newly built house, my neighborhood,my workplace, and jeopardizing the lives of my family.

I mourn the loss of our safe haven, but more urgently, I need to secure a future for my family away from the constant threat of bombings that have become our grim reality.

Meet Yamane, our precious seven-month-old. Who was born during this war, We aspire to provide him with opportunities that surpass our own experiences, fostering a future filled with joy and prosperity.

This campaign is a call to arms for all who believe in the transformative power of community support. By contributing, you're not just donating; you're actively shaping Yamane's world, ensuring his journey is filled with the promise and potential every child deserves. Join us in making a profound impact on his life

Yamen... he's only a baby. He doesn't understand the fear that grips us, the darkness that engulfs our lives. He just smiles, his eyes bright with innocent wonder, oblivious to the terror that surrounds him. He reaches for me with tiny hands, his laughter a fragile melody in this symphony of destruction. 💔

But how long can this innocence last? How long can we shield him from the reality of this war? How long can we keep him safe? 😥

Another side of this war

No gas. No electricity. It's just the cold, empty space where a stove should be.

It's a cruel irony that the war, which has already taken so much from us, has also taken away the warmth of a home-cooked meal. We are forced to rely on makeshift methods, the flickering flame of a makeshift stove fueled by wood or charcoal, a testament to our resilience, and our determination to survive.

The wood crackles and pops, spitting sparks that dance like fireflies in the gloom. It's a dance of desperation, a desperate attempt to coax warmth and nourishment from the ashes of our former lives. Each meal is a battle, a struggle against the elements, the hunger, and the uncertainty of the future.

We boil water in rusty pots over open fires, the smoke stinging our eyes, the fumes filling our lungs. We bake bread in makeshift ovens built from clay and debris, the aroma of baking dough a faint reminder of better days.

But even with these meager resources, we persevere. We cook, we eat, we share. We find solace in the act of preparing a meal, a reminder that even in the face of adversity, life continues. Yet, the weariness lingers, the weight of the war pressing down on us like a heavy cloak. We yearn for the simple normalcy of turning on a stove, of cooking a meal without the fear of smoke inhalation, of the comforting hum of a refrigerator.

The war may have taken away our electricity and gas, but it has not taken away our spirit. We will continue to cook, to eat, to survive.

We will continue to fight for our right to a life of peace, of prosperity, of simple joys. And when the darkness finally lifts, when the smoke clears and the city breathes again, we will remember the lessons we learned in the shadows.

We will remember the strength we found in adversity, the resilience of the human spirit, and the enduring power of a simple, home-cooked meal.

Please help me secure a future for my family away from the constant threat of bombings that have become our grim reality. We are immensely grateful for any support you can provide. It’s more than a donation—it’s a lifeline.

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on their list( #74 )

Vetted on X platform on this spreadsheet (#391)

#save palestine #free palestine #palestinian genocide #i stand with palestine #palestine gfm #ceasefire #ceasfire now

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suguru-getos · 2 months

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-> Kid Gojo running away from home, meets kid F!Reader. <3

It was weird, the scorching sun of Kyoto was humiliating her very body. Gasping, panting, heavy breathing, she had just run from a few bullies who wanted to take her limited edition water bottle away. For a child who was so doted on, overbearingly so, but somehow it all being a facade, Satoru couldn’t understand his own life, part of him thought it’s fun & he gets to have whatever he wants. Part of him craved what normalcy means, and how he could possibly achieve it in a stigma of innate power & pedastal he’s crowned with. His birthday recently passed, so many gifts & yet gift giving could lack warmth that much & include agendas? Unbearable. This world was unbearable.

His eyes were powerful, he had been practising with his own given the strict routine of Jujutsu being taught in his clan… Gojo clan, Zen’in clan, Kamo clan… how do normal people behave? Ignorance is bliss indeed, or that is something Satoru swears by for the non-sorcerer community.

Ignorance is utterly blissful, why else was she running towards him without a fear of her life? His eyes widened, school uniform, tattered & bruised knees, beautiful hair that are utter opposite to his, eyes gleaming, happy— kind— before Satoru could say anything, both her hands clasped his arm, using him as a leverage, she hid behind him.

Now, Satoru can handle all the trouble in the world. Small kid with small hands knew his worth, knew his birth shook the sorcerer community & he is god-like. Still, this normalcy felt endearing. The fact that she didn’t ask him, or bow in front of him to be allowed to touch Satoru was, new.

He turned his head to look at her, what was she running from. His gorgeous blue eyes met hers, thick lashes batting in curiosity, “Ano- what are you running from?” He asked, a slight snobbish arrogance lacing his sentence. He just isn’t used to any other way. Could it be that she was being haunted by a curse? What was tormenting this beautiful girl?

“How old are you?” Satoru continued, asking another question.

“I’m eight, turning nine soon. My name is Y/N. I am running from a few people in my school, they want my water bottle & they get anythin’ they want from anyone…” she pouted big, showing Satoru her water bottle. It looked cute, he’d give it that, but for someone who always has whatever he wants, the idea of people bothering someone else for materialistic things seemed unfit.

“Pretty bottle.” He said, taking it from her & examining it further. Maybe he’s missing something? There has to be something valuable about it… he even tried using six eyes to understand, nope… nothing. Just an ordinary bottle in the hands of an ordinary girl.

“They won’t bother you, I am here. I’m really strong.” He grins, so far he’s always been told he’s really strong but this time he has used this to forge his own identity. “Yeah?” She raised a brow, slightly skeptical.

“Yeah- I am already ten years old. Senpai.” Satoru smirked again, what a tiny lady being bothered by a tiny bottle.

“Well, if you really can protect me from those bullies, I can take you home and make you meet my mom. She makes amazing cookies, & she is making a cake today, Fridays are baking days.” This time, the girl grinned back, just as chirpy and excited. Happily accepting herself to be under Satoru’s wing.

The strongest sorcerer in the world, was still a kid. Needed to be loved like a kid. “I could get any cookies I want.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, not my mum’s cookies.” She resisted, pouting & yanking the bottle away.

What was about her mom’s cookies which could be that special? Satoru raised his brows, he has promised to protect someone & what kinda man would he be if he doesn’t keep his promise?

“Okay, I’ll go home with you.” He nods, besides, there is a special naughty joy that erupts in his childish psyche to imagine his butlers being scolded.

Satoru Gojo didn’t have a normal life, yet. This was a good start, maybe a frequent spot to visit when he escapes his gruesome trainings & his role to save the world.

#gojo satoru #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagines #gojo imagines #gojo comfort #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen comfort #satoru gojo

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bpmiranda · 10 days

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Uncle Logan III |l. howlett| nsfw

A/N: pure, filthy smut, age gap, 18+ f!reader, uncle!logan x faux!niece, cheating, oral m!receiving, loss of virginity, cockwarming, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Uncle Logan Uncle Logan II

It went without saying that you quickly figured out how to stay on Logan’s good side. You weren’t incapable of doing house chores, you simply required the right motivation and once Logan figured out what motivated you, you became docile and obedient - just what your parents had wanted from you. “I made breakfast!” You announce as he walks into the kitchen with a smile, eyeing your pajama shorts and the loose crop top that gives away the hardness of your nipples. “Want some coffee?” You offer, already filling up a mug.

“I appreciate it, sweet girl.” Logan says while tying his tie as you sit down with your own coffee. “You’re not going to eat?” He asks curiously as he sits beside you and you shake your head.

“I’m going to this job fair the community college is hosting, I figured I’d get something to eat afterwards.” You say, watching him sip his coffee, his eyes on you the whole time.

“That’s great, Y/N. I’ll be sure to let your parents know you’re taking concrete steps towards a career.” He says as he begins eating.

You rest your chin on your palm as you watch him and you shrug lightly. “You don’t have to tell them.” He gives you a curious look. “I was just thinking maybe I can stay the rest of the summer here. I mean, you need the help around the apartment and I’m-well-enjoying spending the time with you.” Your free hand slowly inched towards his arm and you caress his hand with your thumb as you look at him with wide eyes, biting your lip.

“Sweetheart, I can’t.” He says, again, and you pout. “We’ve talked about it. It’s not right.”

“Logan, don’t make me misbehave.” You sigh, moving your hand onto his knee underneath the table as you lean closer to him. “You said good girls get rewarded, right?” He reluctantly nods because he did say that, but he shouldn’t have. “And haven’t I been good these last few weeks?”

Logan stalls by taking another sip of coffee and he shakes his head. “You have been, you’ve been great, and there’s a lot of improvement in your attitude. I just-look, we got carried away in the beginning. I think you’re a gorgeous girl, but I’m too old for you. Your dad’s my best friend, I mean, you’re basically my niece. How would that look?”

“Let’s find out.” You smirk, your hand sliding up his thigh teasingly and he chuckles as he grabs your hand and places it on the table making you groan in annoyance.

“Don’t let that attitude come back now.” He says in that warning tone that you’ve come to enjoy.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes and you nod, looking down into your mug sadly and you can’t help but pout at him again. “Can I have a kiss before you leave?” You ask as he’s getting up and pulling on his black dress coat.

Logan hesitates, but that’s how he has been keeping you at bay with your advances. Kissing you, letting you sit in his lap at night before bed so you can make out. He enjoys it too, but even that can’t go on very long before you’re trying to undo his pants. You’ve become insatiable, and he knows it’s his fault. “One kiss, and I have to go.” He says, leaning down with the intention of simply pecking your lips, but he finds himself sinking into you as you kiss him back. Logan kneels in front of you as you wrap your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair as he holds your waist. Your knees open to pull yourself closer to him by his jacket, your tongue’s swiping his bottom lip softly, pleading for an entrance that he gives you all too willingly.

“Mm, Logan.” You moan against his mouth, biting softly at his bottom lip and he groans, forcing himself to pull away.

“I’ve gotta go.” He sighs, standing up and you nod, wiping your bottom lip teasingly as he fixes his hair and his jacket. “Be good, okay?”

“Always am.” You smile sweetly and he shakes his head, scoffing lightly as he leaves.

While Logan chauffeured people around town, you got ready for the job fair. As you were getting dressed in a pair of black leggings and a striped drop shoulder sweater, you caught a glimpse of the framed picture of you and Adam. It was still sitting on your vanity and as you looked at it, you felt…nothing. “Hm,” You hummed softly as you set it face down and applied a light layer of tinted lip balm before leaving the apartment.

You weren’t sure when you stopped feeling something for your boyfriend, but you knew it had everything to do with Logan. You knew it should sicken you, maybe worry you, that you felt this way. Logan was the man that taught you how blow bubbles with chewing gum, he took you the zoo for the first time at 10 years old, he was even there at your high school graduation. Every time you thought about him as your uncle, however, a small voice never failed to remind you that he wasn’t really your uncle. And that’s the voice you have been listening to lately. Logan made you feel different, he made you want to be a better version of yourself, for him.

When Logan came home that night, you were dusting and you looked at him with a smile that fell the moment you saw him rubbing his neck in that telling manner that you came to recognize. “You okay, Uncle Logan?” You ask, setting down the dust wand and walking over to him with concern. He just gives you a small, forced smile. “You don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine, sweetheart.” He sighs as he sits at the kitchen table and you sit in the chair beside him. Logan is looking over your chore list and he nods approvingly at everything that’s crossed off. “Thank you for completing this.” He says, patting it back down the table and letting his head hang backwards in exhaustion. You want to help, you want to be useful to him. Tentatively, you sink down to your knees in front of him and lightly rest your hands on his knees. Logan jumps slightly from the feeling and he looks down at you with furrowed brows. “What’re you doing?”

“You know what I’m doing.” You say, sliding your hands along his thighs to his belt and he stops you, grabbing firmly onto your wrists as he stands up.

“No.” He says as he leaves you feeling embarrassed on the kitchen floor while he takes a shower. He’s too tired to have the same conversation with you, too tired to keep fighting his urges as they’re becoming much too strong and he’s not as resilient as he was once upon a time.

Truthfully, Logan can’t bring himself to cross that line. He wouldn’t be able to come back from it if he did. Your dad’s his closest friend, he couldn’t do that to him. It doesn’t help that you’re throwing yourself as him every chance you get, it doesn’t help how pretty you are, or how much he enjoys being the man that sullies you. She’s not really your niece, he thinks to himself as he’s shutting off the water and he sighs, shaking his head. No, I can’t.

When he comes back out into the living area, you’re sitting on the couch with a book. Logan notices you’re sitting in just your sweater, and his jaw tightens. She is old enough to make her own decisions, he thinks as he sits down beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.” He whispers against your hair, kissing your temple softly. “I shouldn’t have been mean, I was just tired.” He explains and you look over at him with a small smile as you close your book and set it aside on the end table.

“Thank you.” You murmur, leaning into his side and kissing him. Logan hums softly against your lips, his hand slides down your back and he holds onto you while you rest a hand on his abdomen. This is fine, he thinks, just kiss her, make her feel good. Your warm body snuggles up against his as you’re making out, your delicate hand roaming his wide torso as he holds you close to him. “You still tired?” You ask suddenly as you move onto his lap to straddle him. Logan shakes his head slowly, watching you like a hawk as you caress his chest over his white tank top. You press a soft kiss to his lips before you sink down between his knees again, and this time he doesn��t stop you. You undo the drawstring of his sweatpants as you moisten your lips and he has to resist the urge to grab you by the hair and shove his cock into your mouth.

“You know what you’re doing, sweetheart?” He asks and your cheeks warm up as you nod. You know it’s a loaded question, he doesn’t mean if you know how to give a blowjob, he’s asking if you know what you’re getting into by crossing this boundary with him, and you do. You know all too well. “That boyfriend’s a lucky bastard.” He smirks as you pull his hard cock out of his waistband and shyly lick around his tip.

“I don’t think I want him to be my boyfriend anymore.” You confess before you lick a stripe along the bottom of his shaft and he groans. Your lips wrap around his swollen head and you suck lightly on it, already tasting the beads of precum leaking out. “Mm, tastes good.” You murmur against his shaft before you take more of him into your mouth.

Logan subtly bucked his hips up, his tip tapping the back of your throat gently and you moan. “Fuck,” He swears, his fingers lace through your soft hair, tangling in the long strands as he begins guiding you. “This the reward you wanted?” He asks and you nod eagerly, your eyes snapping up to meet his as he’s got your head bobbing up and down, your mouth slobbering on his throbbing cock. “You wanna swallow?” He asks and you nod again, your moans muffled as he shoves himself deep down your throat and suddenly his load shoots down your gullet. “Shit, was that okay?” He asks, hoping he wasn’t too rough.

You quickly nod, smiling as you wipe the excess of his cum from your bottom lip and suck it off your thumb as you stand up and sit back down on his lap. Logan moves his hands up your sweater, squeezing your sides as you begin rolling your hips gently against him, your damp, clothed cunt rubbing along the length of him teasingly. Logan restrains himself as he watches you get yourself off on him, your hands resting on his chest as your head hangs back, and he can’t stop thinking about how damn pretty you look like this, so needy just for him. “Logan!” You moan, your hips bucking quickly, sharply as you feel yourself getting close to a release and he encourages you with a light smack on the ass. “Oh!” You shudder as you cum suddenly, gasping as his hands grip tightly onto your bare thighs, easily maneuvering you to continue your pace and you cry softly. “Fuck!”

“This is your reward, sweetheart.” Logan says against your neck, sinking down in his seat slightly to push his hard cock against you. Your brows scrunch together in pleasure as he overstimulates you, as he lets you use him to get off again. “You’ve been so good.” He growls into your neck, sucking on your skin as you cum, again, whining against his temple as you’re holding tightly onto him.

“Logan,” You say breathlessly, leaning your forehead against his as you slowly come to a stop, your core quivering with a desperate longing for something more, something deeper. “I-please-fuck me.” You plead, kissing him desperately, scratching through his thick beard with your dainty fingers as you speak against his mouth. “Please, I need you so bad.”

You are so whiny and desperate for him, it makes Logan feel smug that you want him this badly. “Baby,” He says in that tone that you’ve come to know all too well and you groan softly in annoyance. “I can’t.”

“Just the tip?” You suggest innocently, rubbing his tip with your thumb between your bodies as you bite your lip, hoping he says yes, hoping he gives in this time.

Logan chuckles, shaking his head lightly as he lets you wrap your hand around him. “You know that’s not all you’re gonna want, greedy girl.” And you quickly shake your head in disagreement, swearing you won’t ask for more. You know you’re lying, and he does too. “You gonna do as you’re told?” He asks, stifling a groan as you pull your panties to the side, and you nod while you stroke your clit along the underside of his dick. His body is tense as you slowly line his swollen tip to your tight, wet hole. “Take it nice and easy, sweetheart. Don’t hurt yourself.”

Hot tears well in your eyes as his head pushes past your rim, and you gasp, stopping immediately with just his tip prodding at your entrance. Logan lets out a low, guttural sound as you squeeze him tightly and he pulls your sweater over your head so he can bury his face between your bare tits, kissing your soft skin as he holds you close while your arousal leaks down his shaft. Logan’s never seen you quite as nude as you are now and he’s transfixed by the sight of you, cupping and kissing on your breasts as you sit on the very end of his cock. “Let me - take - some more?” You ask in between shallow breaths and he shakes his head. “Please, Uncle Logan,” You whine, pulling on the hair at the base of his skull as you wiggle your hips in an attempt to take him all in and he suddenly spanks you. “Ah!”

“Stay still.” He orders and you frown, not realizing he knows you can’t possibly take all of him in one go. “You’re gonna sit still, you’re not going to move, got it?” He says and you nod, biting your lip hard as you feel him push slowly up into you from below. “Let me just watch this.” He says, his tongue moistened his lips as he observed himself pushing into your little cunt which is already dripping around his shaft. His thoughts are running wild as he realizes you’re no longer a virgin, he realizes he just tainted you, and that thought alone could be enough to get him to blow his load.

Neither of you were going to be able to just stop at the tip, you were too needy and he was too weak. Your body was trembling from the way his thick, hard cock stretched out your virgin pussy and you had tears welling in your eyes, blurring your vision as he finally sat fully sheathed inside you, raw, letting you feel every vein around his shaft as it dragged against your sensitive walls. “Mm!” You squeaked, your eyes screwed shut as you shuddered on his lap.

“Sweetheart,” Logan groans, his head falling backwards as he shut his eyes, his grip tight on your thighs to keep you from moving on him. He can feel your muscles quake underneath his touch. “You’ve got a tight little hole.” The squeeze around his girth is unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and he just hopes he can keep his composure long enough to get you to cum again before he does.

All you can do is whimper and your head hangs forward as you cry softly from the sting of the stretch. A tear falls on his abdomen, staining his undershirt which he takes off and sets aside, knowing he’ll need it in a minute. Your small, shaky hands caress his bare torso as you admire how built and hairy he is - such a very burly man. “You-you’re big, Uncle Logan.” You breathe out, your voice trembling.

His cock throbs and he sighs, sitting up which makes you cry out from the sudden movement of him inside you. His beard is tickling your breasts as he’s sucking amorously on your neck, marking your skin as hard as he can with hickeys and you whine, fisting at his hair as you struggle not to move. “You like having your uncle’s cock inside you?” He asks suddenly and you mewl, nodding eagerly as you bite your lip hard. Your arms wrap around his head as you hold him close, lacing your fingers through his thick, greying hair. His hands are rubbing on your ass, spreading you open and pulling you down even further until you feel the head of his cock pressing into your cervix. “I could cum right now,” He growls, biting the skin over your collarbone as you whimper from the pain. “Could make you mine right now.”

“Yes, please,” You beg, very lightly lifting yourself off him and coming back down with a gasp. Logan’s arms shudder around your body, his fingers dig deeply into the flesh of your ass. “Oh, fuck, doesn’t that feel good?” You ask, taking his bearded face in your hands so you can kiss him, distract him as you move your hips again and he groans. “You know you want to.” You breathe out, pushing on his chest so he’ll sit back on the couch, balancing your weight on him as you lift yourself off him again, a little further this time, and he swears as you take him back in. “Fuck, yes, Logan!” You cry, your fingernails dig into his strong chest as you continue your pattern, slowly rising to his tip and falling back down, the natural lubricant of your arousal making it easier to glide along him.

“Sw-Sweetheart, please, st-stop.” Logan pants, his head resting against the back of the couch with eyes closed as you fuck yourself dumb on his hard cock. One of his hands clutches onto his undershirt lying beside him, the other onto your waist, squeezing you occasionally to remind himself not to cum, not to impregnate his niece, but he’s too far gone from the way your young cunt takes him in so eagerly. You are so lost in the pleasure, the filthy noises your wet pussy is making as you fill yourself up with him, the painful tension in your lower abdomen threatening to snap at any moment. You couldn’t possibly stop now.

“Not-uh-yet, ‘m so close!” You whimper, your teeth bite down so hard on your bottom lip you faintly taste blood. You run a hand through his hair, your other hand clutching onto his shoulder as you’re determined to finish once more, this time with him inside you. Your eyes meet and he sees the tenacity in your dazed eyes, it makes him forget about his shirt and both his hands move to your ass. He’s grabbing onto fistfuls of your plush flesh harshly as he begins fucking you down onto his cock with much more force and you let out a strained scream. “Yes! Yes! Use me!” Your legs shake violently with the release of your orgasm, your juices coating his balls and thighs as you cum harder than you thought was ever possible.

With that, having controlled himself as much as he could, he stands up with your legs still wrapped around his waist and he bounces you recklessly on his cock. Your head falls on his shoulder as you bite him there, muffling your screams as he’s being so rough and you can’t think of a single thing except his cock and the way he is spearing you with it. “You’ve been asking for this since day one, sweet girl.” He groans, spanking you to make you cry out. “You still want it?” He asks and you weakly nod, though it’s more as if your head is simply bobbing around, unable to hold it up yourself, but that’s close enough to a yes for him. “Fuck!” Logan growls, pinning you down on his cock as he fills your pussy with his cum, hunching over slightly and wrapping his arms securely around your waist as his body jolts from the force of his release. Your little frame quakes in his hold, your soft crying of his name the only sound filling his apartment as he pumps you full.

A silence then falls over the both of you, panting and shakily breathing as you remain connected, still wrapped in each other’s arms. You weakly lift your head to look at him and he kisses you, a soft mewl falls from your lips as you return the gesture and Logan carries you to his bedroom. “Please don’t leave.” You say in a quiet voice as he lays you down. “Not yet, I want to keep feeling you.” Logan chuckles and lifts you back up so he can lie on the bed with you on his chest instead. “Uncle Logan, I’m not on birth control.” You remind him in a sleepy voice, the aches and bruises on your body catching up to you now as you’re laying still on top of him.

“We’ll take care of it in the morning.” He whispers reassuringly as he kisses the top of your head. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

And you do, you sleep better than you have in years. While Logan sleeps better than he has in centuries.

🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃

Uncle Logan Epilogue

🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @pinkanonwriting @captain039 @fictionalmen-dilflover @shybluebirdninja @virgoxfa1ry @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @am-3-thyst @oooof-ifellforyou @ghxstiie @theoraekenslover @iloveelvis @obsessed-oops @wolvndmouth @imtherain

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fic #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine fic #wolverine fanfiction #hugh jackman #deadpool and wolverine

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drdemonprince · 9 months

Text

I have almost no energy to move or to think. My eyes hurt. My head hurts. I’m constantly on the verge of puking. The room is spinning. Normally bouncing off the walls with the desire to exercise, try new things, and socialize, all I want to do is sit silently in the dark. I am incapacitated, in an inescapable way, by the demands of full-time work. I had forgotten for a while that I am so profoundly disabled, because I have been able to build a life around my natural rhythms and my inarguable sensitivities. But for just one week, I’ve been thrust back into approximating something of a “normal” working life, and I can’t handle it. Not even remotely. If I were to live by this schedule all of the time, if necessity forced me to work an actual full-time job with real, in-person, full-time hours, I would have zero energy for meal preparation, physical fitness, social outings, on-the-ground activism, or any of the random adventures that make life so worthwhile. In my schedule I’d scarcely find the time for doctor’s visits, tooth cleanings, trips to the DMV, birthday parties, conferences, runs to the post office, or any of the other small journeys that make it possible for supposedly “independent” adult life to run. My health, my relationships, my community, and my grounding in reality would dramatically collapse.

Working full-time is a sickness. And not just for especially sensitive people like me. The friends I know with full-time jobs are tired nearly all the time, and have had to give up on so many of their passions and fulfilling pursuits. Over the years some full-time workers I know have become a bit dull-eyed and distant, no passion in their voice, a ghost of their younger selves. They assume it is because they are growing “old,” but I’m older than many of them, and many people older than me are similarly able to bounce off the walls. We have energy if we get enough sleep, if we eat robustly and eagerly, and if life is filled with shared wanderings that we can look forward to. We need repetition, and comfort, and rest, but also ample space to dream, and the power to bring some of those dreams into reality. So many people under capitalism lack all of those things. Their jobs are a chronic illness they must cradle, manage, and make endless sacrifices for every single day. There is so much they can’t do. They don’t go on dates with their spouses because they’re falling asleep at 8pm. They’re behind on doctor’s appointments and haven’t visited their siblings for years. They’re too weak and weary to travel, to volunteer, to meet anybody new. All they have it in them to do at the end of the day is collapse in front of something familiar on the TV. And it is so normal that nobody even considers it a sickness.

The full essay is free to read or have narrated to you at drdevonprice.substack.com.

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dannnnnny666 · 4 months

Text

Day 12: Time Travel

“Sooooo Phantom, do ya have any siblings?” Kid Flash asked as he tried to make small talk with the newest recruit to the team.

A few days ago, Young Justice was called to a meeting by Batman where he introduced their new team mate, Phantom. Phantom was a tough looking dude, he was jacked and towered over them all, even Conner!

Batman didn’t give them much information about the guy but apparently John Constentine was the one who suggested him for the team since he needed “community service hours”.

The dude was currently drinking some soda next to the computer as Red Robin searched for any new info on their latest mission. He turned his attention away from the can, and stared at Wally, his red eyes piercing into his soul.

“Why?”

“Well we are all about to go on a mission together and none of us really know you so I think it’d be best if we all got to know you better,” that was half true. Mostly Wally was just being nosey, but the dude really did make everyone nervous since he was this really tough dude with blood red eyes and apparently was here because John Constentine said he needed community service hours???? Constentine typically say some wild shit, but what the fuck do you mean by community service? Wally knows you can’t use those for school, he’s tried, and what else gave you community service? Juvie and prison!!

Phantom stared at him hard for a few seconds, his eyes searing into the back of Wally’s skull before saying, “Okay fine”.

The answer surprised everyone in the room, I mean the guy had barely even spoken the last few days and had rejected every question about his personal life.

“Depending on how you see it, I have 2 to 4 siblings”

“Is your father a serial adopter too?” Tim joked.

“Yes and no”

“Huh?”

“It’s pretty complicated,” Phantom shrugged, seemingly deciding to end the conversation there and taking another swig of his drink.

However, Tim, out of annoyances of every attempt to get to know this jerk being thwarted and a bit of confidence his family was more complicated, decided to challenge Phantom’s statement.

“Ehh, it probably isn’t as complicated as my family, we got about 50 more siblings adopted each month, all with lots much trauma”

At this, Phantom narrowed his eyes at Tim.

“I see what your doing, your trying to get me to talk tell you guy more about my family by acting like yours are more insane”

“Am I?” Tim asked, trying to hide the shivers going down his spine from the way Phantom was staring at him.

Phantom to a huge swig of his soda, emptying it and throwing it into the garbage, before fully turning to Tim.

“You’re lucky I am always good for competitions, now sit down this is going to take a bit”

Tim gladly obliged and soon everyone sat around Phantom as if it were storytime in kindergarten.

“Okay, so at first I only had an older sister and my parents” Phantom began, “but then they died because of a mistake I made and I had to move in with my evil godfather”

Megan raised her hand and asked, “Isn’t a godfather someone who is very close to the family? Why would your parents choose an evil person?”

“‘Cause my dad was oblivious to this and though they were good friends even though the dudes tried to kill him multiple times”

“I see,” Megan lowered her hand, no less confused.

“There I went mad with grief and had him remove my humanity and tried to kill all of humanity”

“I think that was a bit of an overreaction,” Wally joked.

“You tried to kill all of humanity? Why weren’t we told of this when it happened?” Kaldur'ahm asked.

“That was in a different timeline, I was a big enough problem that they gods tried to kill the younger version of me to stop me, so to avoid dying, my younger version decide to try to defeat me and the only reason he did was cause I was underestimating him,” Phantom emphasized the last part because he had to stress he didn’t not lose to a 15 year old boy because he was weaker than him.

“What happened next?,” Artemis asked, completely inraptured in the story.

“I was then imprisoned for sometime before escaping, causing problems and then realizing that causing younger mean the same pain I experienced won't bring my loved ones back,” Phantom continued to explain, “so I am now going to therapy, doing community service, and got the majority of my powers taken away”.

“Is your therapist open to seeing new patients?” Konner asked.

“No, but this timelines version of my sister is and she has a lot of experience so I can give you her number instead”

“Sure, that’ll work”

“Okay,” Phantom said before writing her number down and handing it to Konner, “The thing is I can’t go back to living with my real parents because they don’t know that I am Phantom so I have to go back to living this timelines version of my godfather”

“You gotta be kidding me” Tim groans.

“Exactly what I said!!” Phantom put his arm up defensively, “Fortunately, this version is a little better, he is no longer tiring to kill my dad and has stopped chasing after my mom, he did clone the other of me and now there is a genderbent version of him but my godfather treats her like a princess and will not stop spoiling her, which I am also guilty of”

Phantoms continues to explain more and in the back of Tim's mind he remembers he was supposed to be doing something but honestly this conversation was too good to care.

“Anyways that's how I technically have 2 to 4 siblings, Jazz and Elle are permanently my sisters and I love them so much, and even though the other Jazz is technically the same as this Jazz, I still think of her as someone else, someone I miss dearly. Also if I considered this Jazz my sister, I guess I’d have to considered the other me as my brother”

“Damn bitch your family is crazy” Wally said, happy he finally managed to get through Phantom’s tough skin.

As they finished up their storytime, the Zeta-tubes activated and Red Tornado and an upset looking Batman walked to the group.

“You all were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago”

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xxblairexxss · 1 year

Text

A fresh start

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Angst, fluff

Word count : 4.2k

Part 2

Requested!

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

It gets a little heavy near the end so heads up! Not proofread!

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"There seems to be a problem with the downforce. It kind of eats the tyre quite a lot."

Charles felt a touch on his hip while he was too busy listening to the engineers. Looking down, he saw a small kid patting on his leg, while the other hand seemed to be offering him something. "Hey, are you giving this to me?" He asked, pulling the headset from his ear as he crouched down.

"Yeah! My mom always gives me candy whenever I am stressed with my homework. You can—oh." The little kid fumbled with the wrapping paper that was securely wrapped around the lollipop. "I can’t take the plastic off for you. Sorry…"

"Oh, it’s okay. Let me help you." Charles twiddled with the wrapper as it went loose before he pulled it off. "There! Oh, for me? Are you sure?"

"No stress! Bye bye!" The toddler waved and sprinted off, leaving Charles with the strawberry lollipop in his hand.

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"Any idea who she is?" Charles nudged Joris and tipped his chin towards the girl who was across the room.

"She’s part of the communication executive." Joris took a quick glance and went back to his phone.

"I have never seen her before." His eyes were latched on the girl, seeing the way she talked with her hands, nodding and smiling at whatever the other girl was talking about.

"She just joined the team."

"What’s her name?" Charles nudged Joris again, causing him to heave a sigh and stand up.

"Y/N!" Joris called out.

"Joris! What the fuck?" Charles slapped his friend’s leg and looked away. The phone in his hand seemed to be looking much more interesting, though it wasn’t even turned on. While his fingers were dancing and tapping on any random buttons on his phone, his ears were listening to the conversation—well, more like listening to her voice. It was weird how he had never seen her before, but Joris seemed to be getting along with her very well.

"That was Y/N." Joris gave a smile, stealing a peep from Charles’s phone, and laughed when he saw it was on camera, capturing Charles’s face from an angle below. "Nice picture, by the way. Is that why you couldn’t stop looking at it when she was here?"

"Very unnecessary, Joris. You could have just told me her name." He threw his cap on and stood up to leave the room.

"I thought you wanted to get to know her." Joris exclaimed, seeing his best friend walking away.

"I can figure that one myself!"

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"Charlie!"

"Hey, Adam! Give me a five!" He bent down as the little one hopped and touched their hands together. This has been his fourth time seeing him, and every single time, his visit would get longer and longer. The first time he met the kid, he just dropped by to give him candy and walked away. This time, he came by with candy and shared a few little jokes and games.

"Do you always wander around the paddock alone? Your dad never gets mad." He ripped the top off the candy and handed it to the kid.

"No, mommy won’t be mad if I just stay around the red garage. Oh! Sour!" His face scrunched up, making the driver cackle.

"Oh? You’re with your mom? Dang, this is sour." He made a face and shivered as the sourness hit.

"Yeah, I’m with mommy! Daddy is…" He looked down, his bottom lips jutting out. Charles knew right away it wasn’t something light if this was the reaction coming from a 4-year-old kid, so he cut the topic short.

"You don’t have anything sweet in there? I’m not a fan of sour candy."

Adam patted his pockets and shook his head. "No more candy! I stole that from mommy. Shh, she didn’t know." He put his pointy finger on his lips and giggled.

"Your secret is safe with me, buddy. I have to go. See you around, Adam!" Charles stood up and gave the little one a pat on the head before he went to get Andrea for his short meeting before the press conference.

"This will be your..."

Charles was slapped with what felt like a brick when it was just a file of papers, but the sting was unexpected, causing him to lean back as he covered one side of his face with his hand.

"Oh! I’m so sorry! Are you okay? Did I just slap you?"

Chuckling, he shook his head and pressed his palm on his eyes—the ones that just got slapped on. "No, no. Well, yes, I’m okay. Are you–" Her beauty from up close astounded him, erasing all vocabularies in his head as he went blank. "You are beautiful," he muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Oh? Oh, nothing. Y/N, right?" He offered a handshake with the widest grin. "I’m Charles."

"Everyone knows who you are, Charles." You laughed, accepting the handshake. "How do you know my name? I never properly introduced myself."

"Oh, Joris told me." He answered, his eyes still on her, making him look like a fool without realising it.

"Do you have anything else to say? Because I need to." She pointed the other way. "I need to head there."

He pulled himself back to his senses and stepped aside. "Oh, sorry about that. I’m not going to hold you any longer."

"Sorry about that. Good luck in the qualifying round!"

"Oh, wait! Is this yours?" He crouched down and took the sour candies on his feet. The same one he got from the kid

"Oh, yeah! Must have slipped off my hand. Thank you!"

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"Mommy, look!"

You took the paper that he handed to you and cackled at the drawing. "What is this, sweetheart?"

"Guess, mommy! Look, I drew the moustache too." He pointed at the little lines, wearing the proudest smile.

"A moustache? Is that a cat?"

"Yes! Like the one we used to have!" He started collecting all of his marker pens and coloured pencils, placing them in his small pencil case as he saw you start packing your stuff. "Are we going back already?"

"Yeah, mommy’s all done with my work, so we can head back early. Should we go on a little date and get ice cream?" Shutting down your laptop, you placed them in the case when Adam seemed to be rushing to go somewhere with his little backpack. "Where are you going?"

"Mommy, wait! I haven’t met Charlie!"

"What even is Charlie?" You muttered, picking up the missing marker pens he had missed for rushing.

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"Hey, munchkin! I was waiting for you." Charles grinned and offered his hand for a high five. "Where have you been?"

"Oh! I’m going back already. Wait!" He sneaked his little hand into his pocket and frowned when he couldn’t find the thing he was looking for. Charles then saw him pull his arms off his small backpack and sneak his little hand inside the small compartment. "This is for you!"

"You are going home? Why?" Taking the small Mars bar from the little one, he kept it in his hand as he helped him put on his backpack again.

"Mommy’s done with her work early today, so I’m going out on a date!"

Charles grabbed his little arm before he could sprint away. "You? You are going out on a date? Wait, with who?"

"Adam!"

The driver’s facial expression went blank as he heard the voice. The little arm in his hand slipped off as he saw the little one run and hug the legs of the woman he has been dying to talk to over the past couple of months.

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"Mommy!"

You ruffled his hair as he crashed into you. "Have you met your Charlie?" Bending down, you squeezed his chubby cheeks as you took his hand in yours.

"Yes! That’s Charlie!" He exclaimed, pointing at someone.

You saw Charles still crouching down with a Mars bar in his hand. He was already looking at you as you laid your eyes on him. He looked surprised and stunned, as he didn’t seem to catch the smile you gave.

"He's—he’s yours? Adam, is your kid?" He queried, taking steps closer.

"Yeah, he’s my son. Wait–" Looking down, you cupped his little cheek. "Adam, Charlie, is Charles? Is this the friend you have been giving your candy away to?"

"Yes!" he squealed.

You thought he had been making friends with a cat or any other person, but not with an actual driver, because who would have thought he would have the most time in the world to be friends with a 4-year-old kid? "I’m so sorry if he had been bothering you. I truly had no idea about that.”

"It’s okay, Y/N. I got free candies." He showed the Mars bar he had in his hand, making you chuckle.

"I am going out on a date with mommy. Do you want to come?"

His words became a mumble as you quickly covered his mouth. "Charlie is busy, Adam." Tilting your head back and facing the driver, you asked the little one to wave before walking away. "I’ll get going now. Say bye, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie!"

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"What’s with that smile?" Joris peeked his head to look at the little kid, who kept looking back every now and then to wave his little hand at the driver.

"Nothing." Charles ripped off the Mars bar in his hand and took a bite of it, cocking his brow at Joris, who seemed to have more questions. "What?"

"Nothing." He mimicked Charles’s expression and moved away before he could get hit in the head.

"You didn’t tell me she had a kid." Charles blurted.

"I thought you wanted to figure it out yourself. Why? Does it change anything?"

"What do you mean?" He queried, taking another bite from the chocolate bar.

"Does it change your little crush on her now that you know she has a kid?"

"No, not at all. I like her even more now." He chuckled and did a double take on his friend. "Wait, how do you know I have a crush on her?"

"Because you aren’t being too discreet about it. I bet Adam knew it too. Give me that." Joris snatched the chocolate bar from the driver’s hand and took the last bite. "You shouldn’t eat too much sweet for your diet, you know."

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"Adam, I need your help." The sound of music in the room was cut off when the driver finally spoke what had been in his head for weeks. Charles was lying down on the couch in his driver room with his little friend, while the little one was too busy colouring the dinosaur from his book.

"More candy?" He asked, switching to a different colour pencil from his case.

"No, not candy. I wanted to ask your mom on a date." He put his phone away and sat up, looking at the little one full of anticipation.

"No."

"Wait, what? Why?" Charles stood up and took a seat by Adam’s side. He casually started participating in the colouring activity as he took a blue pencil and started filling in the tail section of the dinosaur. "I thought we were friends?"

"Mommy only goes on a date with me."

"She might want to go on a date with me." He assured him, helping him change to a different coloured pencil.

"I don’t want mommy to cry again, so, no. I need to go now!" He stood up and packed his colourful stuff inside his little backpack with the help of the driver.

"I won’t make her cry, Adam." Charles handed him his colouring book as the toddler stood up to leave.

"That’s what Daddy used to say too. Bye bye, Charlie!"

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"Charlie hurt?"

"Yes, sweetheart. He crashed today, so you shouldn’t bug him, okay? Just stay here." You pinched his little cheek before handing him his iPad. "Not too long. Turn it off when mommy says so, alright?"

Adam did listen to you and stayed in the break room while you sorted out a few things before race day tomorrow. There wasn’t any meeting until the next hour, so you got to do your work while listening to your kid watch Coco ten times this weekend.

Until you heard a knock on the door,

"Hi. Uhm, I’m looking for Adam." Your eyes widened as the driver peeked his head inside the room.

"Charlie!" He put his iPad to the side and hopped off the couch to run straight into Charles’s arms.

"Why didn’t you come to see me?"

"Mommy said I shouldn’t bug you. Are you okay?" You chuckled when he cupped the driver’s cheeks with his small hands.

"Yeah, I’m okay. Wait, actually, not really."

To that, Adam gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh, no! You need candy?"

"Come here." Charles pulled your son to the end of the room, so you were no longer able to eavesdrop on the conversation.

You saw those two start whispering something, giggling, and laughing while you were left out. "Bye Charlie!" He waved as the driver trod, leaving the break room.

"Bye, munchkin. See you, Y/N. You look beautiful in a ponytail, by the way."

You were taken back by the sudden compliment, and your hand went to stroke your hair now that he mentioned it. "But I always have my hair tied?"

"Yeah, that’s what I meant." He gave a wink before walking away, leaving you and your toddler, who seemed to find the whole situation funny.

"What did he tell you?" You tried to pry into their business, acting casual by going back to your work.

"It’s a secret!" He winked, which looked more like a face scrunch as he went back on his iPad, making you frown in confusion.

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"Go! Open the door!"

"I can’t. Give me a second."

"Why?"

"I’m nervous, buddy."

"I’ll open it for you!"

"No, no!"

You were staying in the break room, playing with your phone while your little one stayed outside, watching an army of people in the paddock celebrate the drivers on the podium. He had promised to stay just outside the room so you wouldn’t have to worry about him being in the crowd, but minutes later, you kept hearing whispers right outside the door. You weren’t sure who the owner of the other one was, but you were so sure one of them belonged to your son.

"Mommy?"

"The door is not locked, love. Just come in." You replied and went back to your phone, expecting him to walk in, but he didn’t.

"Go, Charlie!”

"Is there anything wrong?" Placing the phone away, you pushed the door open and saw that your toddler kept on pushing the driver towards your door. "Charles? Do you need anything?"

"Y/N. Actually–"

"Charlie wants to ask you out on a date!" Adam cut in.

The words made you flabbergasted. That was impossible. Why would he ask you out on a date when every woman he met on a daily basis dressed up way better and had better body shape than you?

And they were single. While you were a divorcee, you even had a kid.

"Stop joking around, Adam. Leave Charlie alone, okay?" Adam hid behind the driver as you tried to grab his arm, giggling while hugging Charles’s legs.

"Would you go out on a date with me?"

You gave a dry smile and shook your head right away. "Sorry, Charles. I have a kid, remember? Who’s going to take care of him if I—“

"Joris will play with me! Right, Charlie?" He pulled on the Ferrari’s shirt, chuckling as he felt Charles’s hand on his neck.

"Joris agreed to take care of Adam for one night. They are best friends." Charles assured.

"I can’t, Charles. I’m so sorry."

He followed you inside while Adam stayed outside to find Joris. "But why?" You ignored him. "Y/N, why?"

"I should be asking you that. Why me? I don’t get it. I have a kid, Charles." You took your phone and started taking your laptop bag.

"And what’s wrong with that?"

"Nothing’s wrong, but you have all those hot girls ready for you to ask them out. I am way out of your league, Charles."

He held your arm to stop you from walking out of the room. "I got Adam’s permission, and I promised him that I was going to take you out. Please give me a chance."

"How did you get his permission?"

You saw him awkwardly smile as he scratched the back of his neck. "He promised me his permission if I ended up in the top 5 this weekend."

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at how ridiculous the deal was.

"Is that a yes?" He tilted his head, having a little faith in how the tension in the room seemed to die down.

"Fine. Just one date."

To that, he bit his lips and threw up a fist. "Yes! You’ll be in Maranello next weekend, yeah? I’ll pick up."

"Sure, I’ll send you the address."

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"Be nice to Joris, alright?"

"Mommy looks very pretty!" He placed both of his palms on your cheeks and gave you a kiss before hugging you by the neck. "Have fun with Charlie! Let me know if he makes you cry, and I’ll." He showed you his little fist. "I’ll hit him!"

Giggling, you kiss him back on his cheek. "I thought you said he was nice."

"Yeah, Charlie is very nice. That’s why I let him take mommy out on a date." He ran towards the main door as Joris helped put his sneakers on. "Bye mommy!"

Back then, when he was born, you always worried if you were able to raise him all on your own. If you could take on both responsibilities as his mother and father figure at a young age, You were grateful enough, as he had grown up to be a very gentle and cheerful kid, despite what he had witnessed occasionally whenever your ex-husband paid a visit. He was never a good dad. He never wanted to be one. Adam barely called him dad. He never knew what it felt like to have a dad, but he would always reassure you that he was glad enough to have the perfect mom. Though you tried to keep your marriage problems between you and your ex-husband, Adam was smart enough to figure out what his dad was like. Whenever your ex-husband came by, you would always get bruises on your body. Maybe that was why your little one grew up to be very protective of you, despite his age.

Charles had told you he was a few minutes away, so you weren’t expecting to see your former spouse when you opened the door.

"Where are you going?" He pushed the door and walked inside as if he had any right to do so.

"It’s none of your business. Please leave."

"It’s my house. Where’s Adam? And why are you all dressed up?" He scanned you up and down, smirking as if you looked humorous.

"Leave, please."

"Come on, baby. I haven’t seen you for months. I have missed you."

You pressed your lips into a thin line, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. Whenever you were home, he would always come by to ask for sex. He would beat you up if you ever resisted any of his attempts, but you would rather get beaten than be in the same bed with him again. You were just glad Adam wasn’t here to witness it all again. "Leave me alone!" You yelled, pushing him off from pinning your body against the wall.

"You fucking bitc—who’s that?" His hand, which was about to hit you in the face, came to an abrupt stop when the doorbell rang.

"It’s no one." The doorbell rang again.

"Go and open the door. It’s fucking annoying." He pushed you on your head, making you jerk forward towards the door.

You wiped on your tears that rolled down your cheeks before twisting the lock as you were greeted by Charles, with his dimples that went shallow as soon as he saw you.

"Y/N? Are you crying?"

You let out a sob and tilted your face away from the tears that rolled down your cheeks again. "I’m sorry, I can’t make it today."

"What’s wrong? Did something happen?" He gently tilted your face and felt his stomach drop when he saw your broken expression. "What happened, Y/N?"

"I–" You sobbed again.

"She wants you to leave, kid."

Charles pushed the door wider as he walked in and stood in front of you. "Who are you?"

"I’m her husband."

You felt his hand on your arm as he pulled you closer; his gaze was still locked on the older guy.

Charles let out a chuckle, seeing how absurd this whole situation was. "So, you are the ex-husband. Well, I don’t think it was me who wasn’t supposed to be in here."

"Kid, this is my house, and that bitch that you are touching is mine." He snarled.

"Don’t call me that. And she’s not yours." Charles furrowed at the man, feeling your hand gripping his arm.

"Ah, so she’s yours now? Did you claim her yet?"

"She’s not mine. She’s no one's possession because she’s not a fucking item. You should leave." His teeth were clenched as his gaze pierced the man. "Leave before I call the cops on you."

"I’ll get going first, baby. See you when this motherfucker is gone, yeah?" You flinched when you felt his cold skin on your cheek.

"Don’t fucking touch her." Charles yanked his hand away and locked the door after the older man was gone, leaving you and him alone.

"Did he hurt you?" Charles cupped on your face, heaving a sigh of relief when there wasn’t anything serious as you shook your head at his question.

Charles wanted to ask a lot of questions, but you were still shaken up by the whole thing, so he grabbed you by your hand as both of you settled down on the couch.

"You can leave, Charles. I’m sorry for ruining your night."

"It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. And who said the date was ruined? Adam told me you love pizza, so are you up for a pizza night?" He found himself grinning when he saw that little smile on your beautiful face.

It was supposed to be a romantic dinner date; instead, you were sitting on the couch with a box of pizza while watching a Disney movie. Charles had to pick out the pineapple on every slice of pizza and vocally judged you on your preference because there was no way he could eat a pizza with a pineapple together.

But it was a very fun night. It was enough to make you completely forget what had happened earlier, but enough to not make the day all about that.

"Y/N, can I ask something?" He picked out another pineapple, trying so hard not to make a disgusted face, which made you laugh.

"Is this about what happened?" You confirmed.

"Yeah, but if you don’t feel comfortable answering, then it’s fine." Charles took a bite of his now pineapple-free pizza.

"No, it’s okay. You can ask." You collected the pineapple he picked off and ate it on its own.

"How long?"

"How long has it been since he did that? It was on and off. If he got a new girlfriend, he would stop coming by for a couple of months." You saw the look he had on you, and it made you feel sad at how bad your life has turned out to be.

"You didn’t report to the police?"

"I did, but I never got any further updates. I even tried to move away, but he always managed to find me back. Which is why I’m always happy whenever I have to travel for work. That way, he won’t be able to ruin my life, and Adam could live his life as a child without having to worry about me." You looked away as you started to clean up the empty box as an excuse so you wouldn’t have to look at his face any longer or you would be crying again.

"I’ll see what I can do. It’s about time for the authority to take action about this. I promise I’ll help you."

"Thank you, Charles. I owe you a lot. I really don’t know how to pay you back." You beamed and dipped your hand in the small box.

"You still owe me a proper date?"

"Fine, make it the second date. Do you want candy?" You handed him one as you popped one in your mouth.

"Ah!" Charles blurted it out, making you jump. "How could I miss this?" He took the sour candy and burst out laughing. It was the same candy that he had been getting from Adam way before he found out he was related to you. "Adam had been stealing your sour candies all this time to share them with me."

"Really?" You laughed along, connecting the dots as to why your candy seemed to be way less than it should have been.

"Guess I love sour candies now." He threw one into his mouth and shivered at the sourness.

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