#I think my posts are turning into too much of rollercoasters

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

WAG Bootcamp

Part 2

Word count: 767

Pairing: lando Norris x reader, but mostly just Y/n and the WAGs

Summary: Y/n, Lando Norris’ new girlfriend, attends her first F1 race and is swiftly taken under the wing of the WAGs, who teach her the unspoken rules of f1

________________________________________________________

Y/n had been to big events before. Red carpets, premieres, and fashion weeks—she could handle a camera flash like a pro. But standing at the entrance of the paddock for her first-ever Formula 1 race, wearing her McLaren pass around her neck, she felt completely out of her depth.

The world of F1 wasn’t just about fast cars; it was about politics, strategy, and—most terrifyingly—the WAGs.

Lando had kissed her goodbye at the hospitality entrance, promising to see her after FP1, and that was when she was ambushed.

“Alright, rookie,” Kika, Pierre Gasly’s girlfriend, looped an arm through hers, her honey-blonde hair bouncing as she steered Y/n toward a private table in the paddock. “Time for bootcamp.”

“Bootcamp?” Y/n repeated, feeling a bit like a deer in the headlights.

“You think you can just waltz in here and be a proper F1 girlfriend without guidance?” Lily, Alex Albon’s girlfriend, teased, sliding into a seat with a knowing smirk. “No, sweetheart, it doesn’t work like that.”

“You’re lucky,” Alex, Charles Leclerc’s girlfriend, added. “Not everyone gets the full WAG orientation on their first weekend. Usually, we just let them suffer.”

Y/n blinked. “Should I be scared?”

Rebecca, Carlos Sainz’s girlfriend, gave her an encouraging pat on the back. “Yes.”

Lesson One: Pre-Race Preparation

“You need to know how to handle Lando before a race,” Carmen, George Russell’s girlfriend, started, flipping her sunglasses onto her head. “Every driver has their own pre-race routine. If you mess it up, congratulations—you’re the reason he finishes P12.”

“Wait—what?” Y/n’s eyes widened. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“Not really,” Kelly, Max Verstappen’s girlfriend, said with a shrug. “Just don’t be annoying. Keep the energy calm, don’t talk too much, and if he’s in the zone, let him stay there.”

Kika nodded. “Pierre needs hype. So I tell him he’s the best, kiss him, and send him off like a gladiator into battle. Meanwhile, Lily literally has to trick Alex into thinking racing is just a fun little game so he doesn’t overthink.”

Lily grinned. “I gaslight him into thinking it’s no big deal. Works like a charm.”

“Susie?” Y/n turned to Susie Wolff, the ultimate WAG and wife of Toto Wolff. If anyone knew how to manage an F1 man, it was her.

Susie sipped her espresso like a woman who had seen it all. “Toto is different. He’s not the one in the car, but believe me, he’s more dramatic than any of the drivers.” She sighed. “My advice? Just make sure Lando doesn’t forget to eat.”

“Got it. No messing with his pre-race mood, gaslight if necessary, and make sure he eats,” Y/n recapped. “I can do that.”

Lesson Two: Media Management

“Now, the media,” Alex said, leaning in. “You’re dating Lando. People will analyze everything you do. What you wear, how you look at him, whether or not you smiled when he crossed the finish line.”

“You need to learn the ‘paddock girlfriend’ face,” Kelly instructed. “Not too excited, not too miserable—just engaged enough to look like you care, but also mysterious.”

Lily demonstrated, tilting her head slightly and pressing her lips together in the perfect neutral expression.

Y/n tried to mimic her but ended up looking mildly constipated.

“We’ll work on it,” Carmen assured her.

“And social media,” Rebecca added. “Fans will stalk every post, every like. If you breathe near another driver, they’ll start a conspiracy theory that you’re cheating.”

Y/n groaned. “Oh, fantastic.”

“Just own it,” Kika advised. “If they start a rumor, make it worse. That’s what I do.”

Lesson Three: Surviving the Race

“You are now a part of the emotional rollercoaster that is watching your boyfriend risk his life at 300 km/h,” Susie said with a knowing look. “You will feel stress, anxiety, and possibly rage.”

“If someone crashes into Lando, you are obligated to hate that driver for at least two weeks,” Kelly informed her.

“And you need a coping strategy,” Rebecca added. “I stress-eat.”

“I online shop,” Alex said.

“I start manifesting,” Lily said dramatically.

“I drink,” Kika said, holding up a glass of champagne.

Y/n exhaled. “This sport is insane.”

The women all nodded in agreement.

As the session wrapped up, Y/n felt a new sense of confidence. Maybe she wasn’t fully prepared yet, but she had an elite team of WAGs ready to guide her through the chaos.

Just then, her phone buzzed. A message from Lando: How’s your first F1 day going?

She smiled, typing back: I think I just joined a secret society.

And so, the newest recruit of the WAG Bootcamp was officially initiated.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 19!

slightly shorter list than usual, sorry about that - i had a major thesis deadline last week, so i've both been reading less and haven't been keeping track as diligently as i normally do, whoops. still, i hope you enjoy these!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a man in finance | carpediaz/@sofa-king-lame | 13.9k | M

The one where Chimney finds Eddie a man in finance. Trust Fund. 6'2". Blue eyes. And he's an asshole, but only for like...five seconds (until he finds out about Chris). Eddie falls hard and fast, but it's ok because Buck does too. this is such a wonderful one!! i love how this author incorporates side characters into these alternate universes (loved lucy's appearances here, and chimney is always so fun) and the buddie dynamic is just lovely <3

cool and chill things to say to your best friend who you've accidentally been having phone sex with when you pick him up at the airport | hwaelweg/@the-hwaelweg | 6k | M

in which we explore the intimacy of having someone's voice in your ear, accidentally falling into phone sex, and edging Eddie Diaz until he can admit he's a good person. i love the distinction between facetimes and phone calls here and the intimacy of it all is just <3 also very hot!!

good things come to those who wait | ithilien22/@ithilien-writes | 2.6k | E

Turns out, Buck likes when Eddie makes him wait for it. (And they're embarrassingly in love about it.) this has such lovely buddie characterisation!! the best combination of domestic fluff and smut <3

i looked at your face & i knew that i'd found it | fleetinghearts/@shitouttabuck | 3.3k | GA

it might be just slightly obvious that buck really, really likes to talk about eddie. such great firefam feels!! buck constantly yapping about eddie is one of my favourite things ever and i love how this fic captures it <3

if i have your heart forever | ipretendtobesane/@usercowboy | 9.2k | M

The day Eddie returns to Los Angeles for good and the day he realizes he’s in love with Evan Buckley happen to be the same twenty-four hours, which makes sense, really, if you think about it. He was coming home. To Los Angeles, to the 118. To Buck. this is the loveliest gentlest fic <3 i love both buck and eddie here, but eddie's realisation felt especially natural and in character!!

sobriquet | rainbowninja167/@rainbowtitania | 18.4k | T

5 Times Buck Called Eddie by a Nickname + 1 Time He Didn’t. this is just so, so, SO much fun!! such a fantastic writing style, and i love how it incorporates humour specifically <3 so good!!

something so lonesome about you | serenelystrange/@serenelystrange | 7.9k | E

Buck signs up for a Christian Dating site, and accidentally stumbles into the man of his dreams. i loved watching buddie's relationship grow in this one! and what a hilariously wonderful fic premise <3 brilliant!!

the way that you hold me tight (there's no other place in the world where i rather would be | The_Lonely_Wolf_Needs_A_Star | 4.2k | M

10 hugs throughout Buck and Eddie's relationship. this was a reread! i'm such a sucker for buddie fics focused on physical intimacy and this hits the spot every time <3

u/minutetomidnightenthusiast's reddit post history. | dylaesthetics | 6.7k | M

the emotional rollercoaster of Eddie's Reddit posts throughout the history of knowing Buck. this author's reddit fics are the gift that keeps on giving <3 i love how this one and the previous one compliment each other, i highly recommend reading them both!!

[nanamineedstherapy]

Controversial Opinion: The Anti-Sugar Baby Manifesto

Okay, so... does anyone else not want to be Nanami’s sugar baby, Gojo’s dependent, Sukuna’s servant, or insert your favorite emotionally unavailable man’s sidekick?

I’ve read (and loved!) plenty of fics where the reader is in one of these roles. And honestly, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying them—power to you if that’s your vibe! But if we’re talking canon or even slightly realistic scenarios… yeah, I just can’t.

Before you start throwing tomatoes 🍅, hear me out. I promise this isn’t a hate post—just my thots.

Alright, buckle up because I’m about to destroy your sugar baby and servant fantasies with my unsolicited, unhinged takes.

Nanami Kento:

You wanna be Ken Doll’s sugar baby? Cute, but be serious. This man is one passive-aggressive comment away from throwing himself into traffic because he hates capitalism that much. He chose exorcisms and certain death over Excel sheets. Excel sheets, babe. If you think he’s gonna work overtime to buy you Versace, you’re delusional.

If I were with him, I’d work harder at my job (I hate corporate too, but not more than I love Nanami) and funnel my salary straight to him. He’d handle it responsibly because I’d just blow it on expensive pens, another PC, and iced tea. But also? I’d keep an emergency fund. Trust no one. Not even your man.

Let’s not forget the workplace romance trope. This man is the epitome of professionalism. He’d never date his coworker, let alone his secretary. Not because you’re not amazing, but because the power imbalance would haunt him. Like, he’d wake up in a cold sweat thinking about HR policies. And I respect that about him bcs same.

Also, please don’t get involved with someone who promises love and then runs to HR if his job’s on the line. (Not Nanami but in general advice.)

The stats don’t lie, and I’m not about to become the next cautionary tale in a LinkedIn post.

Gojo Satoru:

You wanna date Gojo? Cute. Except he wouldn’t date you, let alone spoil you. He wouldn’t date anyone. He’s emotionally constipated, a walking trauma fest, hyperfocused on being the strongest sorcerer alive™️, and allergic to vulnerability.

Most fics turn him into this suave flirt, but let’s be real—canon Gojo struggles with human interaction beyond being a troll. He’s a nerdy dork, so his game is shit even if he wanted to date you.

Y’all write him as this rich sugar daddy, but in reality? He’d spend your entire relationship trolling you, gaslighting you into thinking he’s a “normal guy,” and then disappearing for weeks because he’s busy babysitting teenagers and battling his inner demons.

Also, sugar babies love his money, but be honest—you don’t even like him; you like his black card. Gojo deserves better than being your walking ATM, and you deserve better than a man who’d eat your last snack just because he can.

Gifts are cute, but if he’s doing all the work while I’m chilling? That’s just freeloading.

I'm yet to come across a fic where he takes the time to realize he even wants a relationship, instead of being a pre-established fuckboy who suddenly changes because he found the 'right person.' Let’s be real, that’s not how it works. We shouldn’t glorify men for changing after finding the right person or excuse their past behavior, including any STDs they may have/had.

(Note to self: In future fics, explore his struggle to admit he wants a relationship and the challenges he faces in figuring out how to be in one.)

Haibara Yu:

So, you’re thinking about dating Haibara? Buckle up, ‘cause you’re signing up for a rollercoaster ride where the tracks are constantly under construction. Haibara’s got the energy of someone who just found out about sarcasm, but also the emotional depth of a puddle.

This guy’s all fun and games until you realize he’s like a cat that wants attention, but only on his terms. He’ll say the most unbothered things with that sunshine stare of his, but don’t be fooled. That’s his way of hiding his entire emotional baggage.

One minute, he’s sarcastic and aloof, and the next, he’s unexpectedly clingy, wanting to know if you still like him (even though he’d never admit it). You’ll spend half your time wondering if he actually likes you or if he’s just in a perpetual state of "I’m too cool for this."

Does he care? Absolutly. Expect texts like "I'm fine" followed by a cryptic emoji and zero context.

Dates? Don’t hold your breath. He's too busy trying to be taken seriously.

He’s not a millionaire either. Don’t expect a big grand gesture. His idea of spoiling you? Buying you a drink from the convenience store, giving you stale candy and maybe, just maybe, sending you a playlist of sad songs that “remind him of you.” Yeah, romantic, I know.

He’s not gonna spoil you with gifts, but he’ll share his last pack of gum like it’s the greatest act of love ever. Don’t expect consistency, just an occasional burst of affection sandwiched between long silences and sarcastic banter.

Would he be loyal? Absolutely. Would he constantly second-guess himself and need reassurance that you're not going to leave him because he doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings? Definitely.

Prepare to give him more emotional support than you ever signed up for. Would he adore you? Yes, but he’ll probably think it’s too much work to actually show it. But hey, if you’re into emotional chaos and not knowing where you stand, Haibara’s your guy.

You probably only like him because you know nothing about him.

Ryomen Sukuna:

The “servant/concubine” trope is insane. INSANE. You think Sukuna, the literal King of Curses, is gonna treat you like anything more than a chew toy? The power imbalance isn’t sexy—it’s electric chair. You’d either die mid-hookup (his hands alone could snap you in half) or be tossed into a volcano because you sneezed too loudly.

Be fr—he’d accidentally (or on purpose) kill anyone he sleeps with. The man’s a giant sadist, naturally rough, and has zero chill.

Romance? Nonexistent. Sukuna’s idea of flirting is probably something like, “You’re less annoying than most humans. Barely.” That’s not romantic; that’s verbal abuse with extra steps.

Toji Fushiguro:

This one hurts because Toji’s hot but this man has no money. None. Zero. If you want to date him, you better be ready to cover rent, groceries, and his “post-mission beer fund" because his entire paycheck goes toward sharpening his sword, buying protein powder, and gambling.

Let’s not forget he has a dead wife, and he went off the deep end after her death. Even if you could somehow 'fix' him like the unlicensed therapist you are because you have nothing better to do, he’s a vengeful widower who would leave you randomly for missions—and might not return because he’s driven by the insecurity of proving the Zenins wrong, which would get him killed.

Plus, he’d bring up his dead wife in every argument, saying things like, “She wasn’t this nagging; she didn’t do this or that.” People tend to glorify the dead, and he’d be the prime example of that. How could you compete with the memories of someone his mind has declared perfect?

He’s everyone's wet dream, sure, but do you really wanna date a guy who’d ghost you and leave you with his kid?

And don’t even get me started on his love language. It’s probably, “I killed a guy for you.” That’s cute until the cops show up at your door asking questions.

He might toss you a bone (not like that, calm down), but the idea of me paying for someone who might not even text me back? Pass.

Kamo Choso:

Sweetest man alive. Too pure for this world. But dating him would be like adopting a sad, traumatized puppy who cries every time you leave the room. You’d spend your entire relationship comforting him and Googling “how to help my boyfriend stop mourning his 17 dead brothers.”

He’s too busy laser-focusing on Yuji and going through an identity crisis to even think about being in a relationship. I’d want to protect him, not date him.

Also, his skincare routine is probably better than yours, which is cute until you realize you’ll never be the pretty one in the relationship.

Geto Suguru:

Ah, Babygurl Suguwu. Love him to death (pun intended), but dating him sounds like lifelong therapy.

Do you really wanna date a guy who’s juggling a cult, unresolved trauma, and genocidal tendencies?

His love language is probably “eliminating humanity,” and unless you’re down to join his pyramid scheme of sorcerer supremacy, this is not gonna work.

Also, you will forever be second place to the Gojo-fucking-Satoru.

Be serious. You will never win that chase. He'll leave you mid-sex to go see his 'one & only' babe.

Kashimo Hajime:

Kashimo would date you for the sole purpose of fighting you. He doesn’t want love; he wants violence—he’s looking for someone who can throw hands.

Imagine coming home after a 10-hour shift at work, exhausted, and this man’s standing in your living room like, “I’ve been waiting to test my new technique on you.” No, sir, I want a nap.

And don’t think you can just say no. He’d follow you to the grocery store, the dentist, your grandma’s funeral, like, “We fight now!”

Hiromi Higuruma:

Now, this man’s tempting. Responsible, classy, knows how to argue (a lawyer, duh), but... he’s also on the verge of a midlife crisis.

Do you really wanna date someone who’s one bad day away from snapping? You’d spend most of your time convincing him he’s not a terrible person, and honestly, I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for that. Therapy is expensive, and I already have PTSD from my ex.

Also, he’d probably start arguments just to win them. You think you’re ready for that kind of intellectual warfare 24*7?

Shiu Kong:

Do you like mafia drama? Because that’s what you’re signing up for. Mafia life isn’t sexy—it’s stressful.

You’d be dodging bullets, interrogating his “coworkers” about his whereabouts, and wondering if he’s about to betray you for a promotion.

Also, he's an asshole who's going to disappear after he's done with you; go see the scene before Toji died. Hard pass.

Kusakabe Atsuya:

This man is the king of doing the bare minimum. His love language is probably “napping,” and while that’s cute in theory, it’s less cute when he cancels date night because he “forgot” he had to sleep.

Honestly, he’d be a great friend, but as a partner? You’d be babysitting him.

Takuma Ino:

You wanna date Ino? Adorable. But let’s be real, you’re signing up for 24/7 unpaid emotional labor. Ino’s a golden retriever boy who desperately wants validation, and you’d basically be his therapist, hype woman, and emotional punching bag all rolled into one.

He’d shower you with attention (cute, right?) until you realize he’s also incredibly insecure and needs constant reassurance that he’s “doing a good job.” You’d be his number one fan and his HR department.

He’s not rich either. Like, at all. His idea of spoiling you would be buying you snacks from the konbini and taking you to the movies with coupons. Don’t expect luxury here—expect a man who puts in effort but forgets anniversaries because he was too busy stressing about being a sorcerer who no one takes seriously.

Would he adore you? Yes. Would you want to be adored by someone who still Googles “how to ask her out” while you’re already dating? I’ll let you decide.

Final Thots-

At the end of the day, I’d rather have my own independence than rely on someone else to “take care of me.”

I want a partner—not a sugar daddy, not a servant-master dynamic, not a walking red flag, and definitely not a paycheck.

I'd rather have a househusband who's retired and relaxed than an overworked sugar daddy���or worse, a dead one. Is that too much to ask?

Anyway, this is just my opinion!

If you love those tropes—go off; that’s totally valid. I’m not yucking anyone’s yum. We all have our preferences, and that’s what makes fandom fun.

No hate, just vibes.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. I’ll see myself out. 👋

If you still wanna fight, my comments are open, although I will reply like the guy you are fighting for.

[pullupinarari]

I wouldn’t choose to blame it on you [LH]

author's note: me posting fics at 1 am, what's new 🤧 I still have A LOT of doubts about this one, but I decided to post it so you could be the ones deciding if it's shit or not 😃 anyway, hope yall enjoy this! mwah

warnings: there are mentions of a car crash and a coma in this one!!

• masterlist

wc: 8478 - english is not my first language! feedback is always appreciated

Life hasn’t been easy for you lately. You’ve been struggling with some problems at work, leading to your mental health deteriorating alongside it. All the stress, the sleepless nights, are taking a toll on you, ruining your good moods and patience. Your body runs on anxiety most of the time now, making you snap more easily over small things that don’t justify it at all. 

At the same time, Lewis has also been struggling: with his work, with his mind sometimes. Things have been going downhill for him at Mercedes, and you know he feels the pressure - from the team, the fans, and especially from himself. He too has been going through a good amount of sleepless nights, tossing and turning in the bed, his mind running to find a solution for all the problems surrounding his car, trying to understand what is wrong with it, why this season feels like it’s cursed for him. 

You know all of this, you witness everything from the front row - and you try your hardest to be there for him, to comfort him and to support him, in the exact same way that Lewis does for you, no matter what.

But Lewis is definitely much more patient, calm and thoughtful than you are - most of the time, at least. He always has the time to listen to you, and even if he has to run, he finds a way to allow you to vent to him, so he can assure you that everything will be okay. 

However, he has his bad days as well. And today was just one of those days. Lewis was stressed already before the race, groaning and huffing in his drivers room while he was putting on his racing suit. Qualification didn’t go well yesterday, he was going to start the race in a shitty place once again, and just the thought of it devastates him. You know Lewis thinks about his career a lot - he can’t help but compare his golden years to the races that he has been having lately, and he wonders what kind of legacy he will leave behind after all this. 

It consumes him, you know it does. He doesn’t know what he is doing wrong, what he can do to improve, if the problem is really in the car or if he had just forgotten how to drive it, out of nowhere. The intrusive thoughts are stronger than him, and this weekend, he is definitely letting them win and take over his mind. 

But something doesn’t sit right with you. You don’t know what it is, you just know that you have an agitated sensation inside of you, a feeling of disquietness - the type that feels suffocating, like someone is stepping on your chest and never letting go.

“I don’t feel right about today” - you share with Lewis, your voice sounding calm and quiet, just barely above a whisper, undecided about whether you should acknowledge this emotion or not. 

For some reason, Lewis doesn’t want to hear it, so the loud sigh that leaves his mouth is enough to make your body contort in your seat. “Can you just shut up for a single minute, please?” - he asks, his voice sounding tired and done - with the weekend, with everything that’s happening, with you. 

He has had enough sleepless nights, he can’t even begin to explain the rollercoaster of emotions that’s been running through his own body for the past couple of months, and he just can’t do it today. He can’t, for the life of him, listen to another hour of you pouring all your sorrows out for him to absorb them, to add them to his own frustrations, to try and deal with every single one of them at the same time. Lewis has enough on his plate already, and he’s tired of you using him as a deposit for your own sentiments. 

“What has gotten into you?!” - you question, maybe in a too defensive tone, looking at his figure with furrowed eyebrows. The environment surrounding both of you already feels heavier, when Lewis gives you a moment of silence, before digesting your question. 

He turns to look at you, his eyes focused on yours, with a serious expression painting his face. “Y/N, I am genuinely so fucking exhausted. You’re not the only one suffering, you know? You see every single day all the shit that I have to pull through, and still, you don’t give me a minute to breathe! I know you’re going through your own shit as well, but fucking hell! The only thing you do now is complain about every single thing and it’s starting to get annoying!” - he blows up in your face, raising his voice even without noticing it, but his words enter your ears, echoing in your insides, and never leaving your body. 

“I am also by your side whenever you need me! You’re being so fucking unfair right now. Because I am the one that actually stays by your side every single weekend, while you aren’t even near me most of the time when I need you” - you spat back, the venom in your words hitting him where it hurts the most. You know how much he blames himself when he has to leave you alone, when work gets in the way of your marriage, when his mind is already toxic enough to make him wonder if he is still a good husband for you, after all that’s happened lately. 

“It’s not my fault that my job demands that I have to travel so much! You know I don’t feel good about all this either! But I am about to get into my car and here you are, complaining about your feelings, instead of trying to support me for a bit. I need you too, you know?” - he sighs again, noticing his body tensing incredibly hard now, making him feel like his muscles are starting to hurt already. 

“Everything I do seems to annoy you, apparently. I annoy you when I cry, I annoy you when I complain, I annoy you when I fucking speak. So maybe it’s just better for me to shut my fucking mouth, and you might as well just pretend that I’m not here, like I don’t exist. You do that quite a lot lately already” - you reply, your voice sounding quiet now, the hurt in your words sounding so clear. 

But Lewis didn’t want to argue in the first place, he has more important things to focus on right now. So he grabs his helmet and his gloves, turning his back to you as he heads for the door. “Yeah, go ahead and leave. That’s all you know how to do, anyway” - you tell him, insisting on screaming harsh words to him, the blood in your veins feeling like it’s boiling now. 

“For fucks sake” - are the last words leaving his mouth, and you notice how he rolls his eyes before slamming the door shut. Once you are left alone in his room, it’s like the sound of your screams still echo through the walls, reverberating in your body. 

You feel so angry, so mad at him, at the way he talked to you, the harmful things he said to your face - you felt like you had to give him a taste of his own venom, erupting in such a tense fight. Your body feels tense as well, you have a knot forming in your throat, your chest is rising deeply and fast, your breathing feels erratic due to how nervous you feel now. You bury your body deeper on your chair, allowing you some minutes to breathe, to try and calm down, and that’s when tears start flowing out of your eyes, finally allowing all the tension and the gut wrenching feelings that are flowing through your veins, set free now. 

When you reach Lewis’ garage, he is already inside his car, waiting for the signal to leave his spot. No good luck kiss, no encouragement words, not even a fist bump before he starts driving - nothing. None of your pre-race traditions were made. You make sure to hide yourself in the back of the garage, silently watching the beginning of the race, keeping all your attention on your husband’s movements - your eyes focusing on the screen in front of you, while your mind keeps going back to what happened in his driver’s room just 20 minutes ago. 

You can’t help but replay all the words he said to you, how insensitive he was, how he snapped on your face when you didn’t do anything wrong. Your facial expressions are closed, almost showing no emotion at all, while your body is physically hurting from all the emotions that you are trying to process.You take a deep breath, crossing your arms as you realize how angry you actually are, and how difficult this is going to be,forgiving him after everything he said. 

Your eyes keep following his car, lap after lap, turn after turn, and your brain isn’t processing anything that’s happening in front of you - you feel disconnected from the race, from the reality, it’s like your body is there, but your mind is somewhere else. 

The truth is that Lewis isn’t really paying attention to his surroundings either. He hates when this happens, when he has to race while feeling his blood boiling in his veins, his body feeling hot from all the anger reaching his skin. He is running on autopilot now, just making sure that his car stays inside the track limits, barely listening to any words that Bono keeps repeating on his radio, rarely replying to him. His mind is also thinking non-stop about the fight you two had before the race, he keeps wondering if you will have the courage to recognize your mistakes and actually apologize to him, since he doesn’t feel capable of apologizing anytime soon - he actually means every word he said, he needs you so badly and he feels like he is the one that always needs to be there to comfort you. Sometimes, it just needs to be the other way around. 

Only Lewis knows how badly he would kill to have a moment where he could lay on your lap, vent about his concerns, to allow himself to cry out all the emotions that he has been bottling up for the past months and that he never got a chance to release from his body. He wishes you would listen - actually listen to him, paying full attention to what he has to say. To see all the damage he’s been keeping inside, to cuddle him, to comfort him and to assure him that everything will be alright in the end, because he doesn’t seem to be able to see it now. 

It’s like your minds are connected through the same type of thoughts emerging in your brains, making your bodies turn off from reality. You feel like you only come back from diving into your deepest thoughts, when your eyes focus on the way Lewis is struggling to drive now, completely losing control of his car, crashing hard against the barrier at an insanely high speed.

Your heart immediately falls, an electric shock running through your entire body in a second, alerting all your senses as to what’s going on. Bono tries to talk to him over the radio, asking if he is okay, waiting to get an answer - but Lewis doesn’t respond. In the blink of an eye, everybody in the garage is rushing, trying to understand what happened, leaving their seats, some people running out and trying to reach him. 

Your body begins to shake as you keep staring at the image coming from the inside of his cockpit - his head is down, he isn’t moving, and there’s the bad feeling pooling in your chest once again: something is definitely wrong. 

You try to leave your spot, trying to leave his garage as well so you can see him with your own eyes, but as soon as you try to run, someone from the team immediately grabs your arms, not letting go of you, recognizing that the cries and screams leaving your body won’t help now - there’s specialized people that are ready to help him. 

The tears don’t stop streaming down your face now - and you almost didn’t even notice they had started falling already, but you can’t control them. It’s like your heart is speaking for you, your emotions taking advantage over your brain. Soon, people start hugging you, trying to calm down your state as they too try to analyze how the situation is looking.

“Let me go, please” - you plead, hiccuping while you try to get the words out of your mouth. “It’s my husband that’s in that car, please” - you look everyone in the eyes, one by one, trying to appeal to their own feelings now as you beg them to let you meet him. 

Soon, someone is reaching for the television in front of you, turning it off as you start to see his car surrounded by people now, trying to take him out of the vehicle. It all happens so fast, your brain doesn’t have the capacity to keep up with everything that is happening now - you just remember being rushed to another room, so you couldn’t see what was taking place just a few meters away from you. In a matter of minutes, Lewis was being rushed to the hospital, and that’s when his team broke the news to you, letting you know that he was unconscious and in need of serious medical attention as soon as possible. 

And now, here you are: sitting in the waiting room, with a tear stained face, feeling so empty that you can barely breathe at this point. You are still waiting for someone to give you some news about your husband, to tell you what happened to him. To be honest, you just want the doctors to tell you that he is okay, that he is awake and ready to see you - but it doesn’t look like that is going to happen anytime soon. 

Some tears keep drenching your features while you face the wall. You don’t feel like saying anything, you don’t feel like doing anything that doesn’t lead to you seeing your husband. A million different emotions are traveling through your blood while you’re just holding on to the thought of him, now. 

Your brain replays everything that happened for the past couple of days, between the two of you. You really didn’t pay him all the attention that he deserved, that he desperately needed. You were selfish, focused on yourself, and you can’t even begin to explain how badly all your thoughts are weighing so heavily in your chest right now - it’s like you are holding the entire world on your back, with the inexplicable guilt of the last words you directed to Lewis: “go ahead and leave”. Your fists clench at the replay of that scene, feeling incredibly mad at yourself now. How could you say something like that to him? No matter how angry you could have been, you should have never told him something like that. 

You never wanted him to leave - of course you didn’t. You wanted him to stay, to calm down, to talk to you. But this time, you let the anger win, and your heart clenches at the thought of your husband crashing his car with those words lingering in his brain. 

The truth is, Lewis was also replaying the entire scene in his mind, not paying the slightest attention to the race. The grip he had around the steering wheel was incredibly tight, he also regretted what he told you - he realized that his words were unfair. You are trying your best, while still being there for him. He is the one that, sometimes, chooses not to open up, not to let his feelings show, he would rather just listen to your mind most of the time, so that he could avoid his own. 

Lewis’ phone rings, almost at the same time that yours starts ringing as well. You have both devices in your pockets and they’re both being flooded with calls and messages - your families, your friends saw what happened during the race. You understand that they are worried about Lewis, but the truth is, you too have no idea of what happened, or what's going on inside the emergency room. 

The time is passing by so slowly that you can feel each minute, each second touching your skin, giving it goosebumps while you find yourself praying for the best - you just want Lewis to get away with this, you want to look him in the eyes, to hear his voice. Even if he might still be angry at you, you don’t care - as long as he is alive and feeling okay. 

After what it felt like infinite hours, a doctor finally comes up to you. You immediately get up from your seat, asking how Lewis is. “Your husband has a mild concussion, nothing too serious, but he also has a broken shoulder, so we had to perform a simple surgery to correct it. While we were operating him, some bacteria spread through the wound, forming an infection. We tried to clean it as much as we could while in the operating room, but we decided to put him into a medically induced coma, so his body can spend all its energy fighting it, and we can control the infection better this way. He is out of danger for now, but we will keep a close eye on him” - the doctor explained to you in a calm voice. 

Your brain runs to collect all the information that was just thrown at you. “He is out of danger” - the words make your heart pump blood into your veins more calmly. But “for now” is the warning that makes all your internal sirens ring louder, afraid that something serious might happen to Lewis anytime now. 

You take a moment to call your in-laws, letting them know what you just heard from the doctor - in an attempt to help them calm down their clenching hearts as well. When you hang up the calls, a sweet nurse comes looking for you, letting you know that you are finally allowed to see your husband, to come inside the room he’s currently in. 

Your heart jumps out of your chest at her words, and your hands start to shake as you grab the door handle, taking a deep breath before opening it. As soon as your eyes land on your husband, the tears come back. He looks so fragile, lying in that hospital bed with a cast around his shoulder and arm, keeping it in place, resting on his stomach. You take a seat on a chair beside the bed, pulling it further forward, so you can be closer to Lewis. 

There’s a moment of silence lingering in the air, while you look at him - capturing all of him in your mind, each detail - recording it forever. Then, you gain the courage to take his hand in yours - you carefully caress his skin, noticing all the different IV’s that are connected to his body, each tube pumping a different substance into his blood.

He looks like he is just peacefully asleep, like he just came back home after a tiring weekend of racing, and he is just enjoying his time in bed, trying to get some rest - you’ve seen that image so many times already, it used to be one of your favorites, to see your husband at peace and giving his body a deserved break.

But then, your body lets out a sob, remembering why he is here, what happened at the race. You nestle his hand in yours, bringing it to your mouth to leave some kisses on his knuckles gently, while tears paint your features again. 

“Love” - you try to call him, only to no avail. His chest keeps rising up and down at a calm pace, truly like he is just in a deep sleep. You know he can’t answer you right now, but you can only hope that he will be able to hear you. 

“I don’t know if you know why you’re here, I don’t know how your brain feels after all this - the crash, the concussion, this whole coma situation” - you start to tell him, letting the tears fall free, not bothering to clean them up - nothing could make you lose touch with your husband again, so you keep caressing his hand with yours. 

“If you don’t remember what happened, I will tell you: it’s all my fault, Lew. This is all my fault” - your words sound muffled as your cries get more intense. There’s a hole in your chest now, as if someone shot you and the bullet went through your entire core, ripping through all your feelings and who you are. “The guilt won’t die alone this time, because I’m carrying it all with me, and let me tell you, it weighs a ton. I never wanted our stupid fight to end up in a car crash, baby. I never wanted anything bad to happen to you” - you guarantee him, your emotions pouring into his body now. 

If Lewis could feel something in his body while being in a coma, you were pretty sure that he would feel how hot your hands are now - something that’s not normal to you, since he is the one who always needed to warm you up. He would definitely point that out. Your body feels warm due to your altered state, to the way your heart has kept racing in your chest since the moment you saw Lewis losing control of his car. 

“You were right. And I know that, if you were awake right now, you would say ‘of course I was’, but it’s true. You were right, I was selfish, self-centered. It's been a minute since I gave you all the attention that you deserved. I made it all about me. I was way too worried about stupid work related problems, and look at me now. You’re on a hospital bed, and I’m here, crying my eyes out while I carry all the guilt of the shit I told you before the crash” - you sniffle quietly, using your fingers to stroke his cheek gently now. “You know, when you left your garage, I couldn’t stop thinking about how hard it was going to be for me to forgive you after the things you said. But Jesus Christ, now I just want to forget about all that, I want to put it all behind my back - the only thing that matters to me is your well being. I don’t care about any stupid fights if it means that I get to have you with me, sleeping by my side, even annoying me sometimes” - you pause, trying to take a deep breath.

“And when I told you to leave, this isn’t what I meant, you know” - you try to lighten up the mood, but your humor doesn’t do it. Instead, you just cry harder, imagining what you would do if he actually never comes back from this state. “You need to hurry up and fight this fucking bacteria, because I need you back, Lew. I need you so much” - you lay your head on his hip now, quietly sobbing into the sheets while your hand is still holding his.

Your brain assembles a collection of moments that you’ve spent together for the last few years of your lives. Small, simple and happy moments that your husband gave you, the ones that you were the most thankful for: like the way his smile would look so bright and giddy in the middle of the night, while you two were sharing pillow talks. How his laugh would erupt, flowing from your ears to the rest of your body, his good mood always influencing yours, always being able to put a smile on your face. 

It’s like your body can feel his touch still lingering on your skin, from all the nights when he lulled you to sleep while his hand would gently caress your back, your head lying on his chest, calming you down once you would focus on his steady breathing. “I need you back, even if you are going to wake up and still be mad at me - fuck, you have even more reasons to be angry at me now. You’re in this hospital bed because of me” - the realization hits you, not knowing how Lewis is going to react to all this once he wakes up. “But it’s fine. Even if you’re still angry, even if you give me the silent treatment, or even if you want to give me a piece of your mind. As long as you wake up, I’m fine with all that. I just don’t want to have a fight like this one ever again, Lew. Never” - you wipe some tears that are now dripping down your chin, threatening to spill onto the bed sheets. 

“I love you so much, Lewis. I am sorry, I am so fucking sorry for all this. For making it all about myself, for the fight, for the mean words I’ve said to you, for the crash. I never meant to say such horrible things, especially before a race. I didn’t even get to give you one last kiss before you got inside the car” - your heart shrinks, hurting like hell, like someone ripped it out of your chest and stepped on it over and over again.

“And believe me when I say this, but I could die right here, right now, knowing that you are suffering, that you are going through all this, that your mind was so messed up after our fight that you couldn’t even focus on your driving and you put your life on the line. I would rather be the one suffering, going through all of this instead of you. I would give you my life just so I could hear one of your belly laughs again” - your throat hurts from crying so hard, from the knot you feel around it, choking on your own emotions, making your mind feel like a sponge, a cloud with no ability to let go of the horrible images that you saw earlier. Your life doesn’t make sense without Lewis, and the thought of losing him destroys you completely. 

You make sure to stay by his side, sitting on that damn chair, next to his bed, for as long as it's needed - for as long as Lewis needs you. Your body feels electric due to all the anxiety pooling through it, and ever since the second that you saw his car crash, you feel like you have a difficult time breathing properly. You don’t even know what to do with yourself, so you just spend the entire time touching him, making sure that he is still there, his body so close yet so far from yours. You can't help but caress his face or arm even in the middle of the night, due to how hard it is for you to fall asleep - your brain keeps replaying the images from the accident inevitably. Somehow, you always end up falling asleep on your seat, your head down on the mattress in front of you, your fingers always gently intertwined with your husband’s - the only source of comfort you can find. 

Every morning, you wake up to the sound of the nurses walking inside the room, to check on Lewis’ levels, to change his medication, to retouch his IV’s. 

The nice ladies try to comfort you as much as they can, reassuring you that Lewis is making progress, that he will be okay, the doctors will bring him out of the coma in no time. But they also care about you, and they try to convince you to go home for a couple of hours, to take a warm bath, to sleep on a comfortable bed for a bit, instead of falling asleep on a chair. But you could never do that - what if Lewis decides to wake up for a moment when you’re not by his side? You don’t want him to immediately think that you abandoned him, that you didn’t care enough to stay after that stupid fight. 

It’s been five days since the accident. Everything is the same. The doctor says that Lewis is getting better, but the progress isn’t significant enough for them to take him out of his coma. For the past couple of days, you’re not the only one sleeping at the hospital - Lewis’ parents are there, as well as his best friends. The people that are closest to you and Lewis made sure to create this string of hope and love to wrap you two in, while also protecting you from the media and all the chaos surrounding it - feeding themselves off Lewis’ crash like vultures. 

Anthony, your father in law, actually cares about you as if you were his daughter, and he knows that you will listen to him. His hand goes to your shoulder, patting it gently as he sees your exhausted face, still looking at Lewis’ features, focusing on every little detail of him that you love so much. Your hand is still intertwined with his, like they’re glued together at this point. 

“Y/N, darling, why don’t you get up from this chair and go back home to take a nice shower and eat a warm meal? Hm?” - he says in a calm voice, the fatherly tone evident. 

You are quick to shake your head and you see the way that he nose contorts at your answer. “What if he wakes up?” - you wonder, some tears showing up on the corners of your eyes already. 

Anthony sighs, crouching down so he is eye level with you. “If he wakes up, you have my word that I will tell him about how you have never left this room in nearly a week now. Come on, sleeping on a chair and showering here with cold water isn’t right. You need some rest as well. We need to take care of ourselves now if we want to be capable of taking care of Lewis once he wakes up” - he tells you, and you know that he is right. The way you can barely keep your eyes open now, the terrible pain searing your back has been enough of an alarm, you’re just too stubborn to give in. 

With a small sigh, you decide to get up, landing a gentle yet long kiss on your husband’s forehead, touching the top of his head for a second before heading home. When your feet step outside the hospital for the first time in a week, the wind blows in your face, pulling your hair back, while the warm sun hits your figure, warming you up instantly. There’s a light breeze in the air, making you feel like it’s getting easier to breathe now, reminding you that there’s still so much to live - like a sign that everything will be alright. 

You drive home, thinking about the mess that your emotions are in. You can’t help but feel the remorse from leaving the hospital, even if you’re just heading home for like an hour, but there’s also a side of you that lets you know that maybe you need to let go of all that guilt, the negative thoughts that continue to consume you and look at this with new eyes, with light and hope in your heart. 

Your body surely can’t deny that the way the warm water hitting your skin does feel like the cure to all your problems, especially for the terrible back pain endured from sleeping on a chair for five days in a row. After your bath, you lay in bed, feeling sleepy, so you decide to take a nap, holding Lewis’ pillow next to you - it still smells like him, and that alone is enough to make tears swell in your eyes again, missing him terribly. But “everything is going to be fine” - you think to yourself, convincing your brain that the love of your life will be back home very soon. 

You can feel yourself drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes, it’s like you’re being dragged by a wave, in the middle of the ocean - like you’re floating and you are as light as a feather, like the guilt you once felt, doesn’t weigh anything at all now.

As soon as you close your eyes, there’s only one thing in your mind: Lewis. At first, you start dreaming about lying beside him, cradling him in your arms and showering him in the purest form of love that you could ever give him - trying to make up for everything. You can see his face, his big smile, the one that’s so wide that makes his eyes look small in his face and that it could light up an entire room - it, for sure, is enough to light up your entire life. 

But then, it’s like your mind switches a button, and it creates a potential scenario of what can happen at the hospital, once Lewis wakes up. He doesn’t have a happy expression on his face when his eyes find yours. Instead, he is furious at you, and he makes sure to voice it. “You’re guilty about all this”, “this happened to me because of you”, the words echo in your head while you toss and turn on the bed, trying to escape your own mind now. You are covered in sweat, chills are running through your body while the nightmare persists, watching how Lewis is the one sending you away now, ordering you to get out of his hospital bedroom, making sure that he never has to see you again. 

Once you are finally able to open your eyes, you immediately get up, changing your clothes as you run back to the hospital - praying that your nightmare wasn’t a sign, that Lewis isn’t actually awake and really mad at you. It’s like you’re flying, trying to get there as soon as possible, and once you do, you let out a breath when you realize that nothing happened - he is still in his deep sleep, and you try your best not to show your altered state to anyone, going to grab a coffee from the vending machine. 

“You know you’re very transparent, right?” - Anthony’s voice sounds behind you, startling you from your thoughts. You look at him, furrowing your brows as if you have no idea of what he is talking about. 

“You need to let go of that guilt, kid” - he tells you, grabbing a coffee for himself as well, while trying to advise you the best he can. “The car crash wasn’t your fault. Stop holding that grudge so close to yourself.”

“But we had a fight-” - you try to explain. 

“I know, Y/N. You’ve told us about it already. And I keep telling you, what happened in that car wasn’t your fault. You had a fight before the race, you were both hot headed, but accidents happen. They can even happen without a fight, even with good luck rituals and everything. They can always happen, and you know that” - he says while lifting an eyebrow at you, reminding you of Lewis’ facial expressions so much now.

“But this only happened because he was furious, you also know that. He wasn’t focused because his mind was somewhere else” - you frown, your nightmare feeling too real now, like it’s itching your skin, afraid of what might happen once your safe haven wakes up.

“It could happen to any of us. I can crash my car while thinking about my grocery shopping list. We need to focus on the fact that he keeps making progress, and is now almost out of danger. Don’t blame yourself, and don’t be afraid. I know my son, but so do you. I have no doubts that he will only want to see you once he wakes up” - the way he sounds so sure gives you some confidence as well, like he is helping you take that weight off your chest.

In the blink of an eye, another week passes by. The small group that stayed at the hospital started taking turns, so that everyone could get some time to go home while never leaving Lewis alone. It’s crazy how a hospital room can feel a little like home now. Friends and family have sent your husband cards, ‘get well soon’ balloons, his nephews made some adorable drawings for their uncle, sending him all the love and positive energies so he could get better even faster. So, now, the space has more color to it, feels cozier when you are all there, near him, praying for his recovery.

And each time you would come back to his room, you would make sure to tell him about everything you’ve seen on your way home - even about this stupid TV AD that you find so annoying and it keeps playing non stop on every channel. 

You never stop talking to him, even if there’s a chance that he can’t hear you - it brings you some peace to think that you are keeping him updated on each thing that’s been happening in his absence. “You are probably so tired of hearing me and my stupid stories, but I can keep cracking silly jokes as well if you’d like” - you giggle slightly as your fingers run through his features. It came to a point where you don’t cry anymore - you are really trying your hardest to fight your mind on this, and the positive updates that the doctor keeps giving you everyday on Lewis’ state of health helps a lot. 

“We consider that his current state is stable enough for us to start reducing his medication, which means that he is going to gradually come to himself. It’s safe to say that he can wake up anytime now” - the medical team informs you, and it’s like the clouds surrounding all your heads as a group are slowly, but surely, lifting, letting some rays of sun and hope in. 

It’s been two weeks since the accident, and the anticipation of Lewis being able to wake up anytime now makes none of you want to leave the hospital. Still, you try your best to stick to your plan of taking turns, and you make sure to be extra fast once it’s your turn to go home, dreading the thought of Lewis waking up while you’re away.

Today was just one of those times when you showered at the speed of light, running back to the hospital as fast as you could. You don’t know why, but you have this feeling about today - you can’t explain it, but the way you woke up with a sprinkle of anxiety pooling in your stomach since early in the morning, makes you believe that something is about to happen.

You try to prepare yourself, hoping that today will be the day when the love of your life will finally wake up, and you will be able to look into his chocolate eyes and melt into them like it was the first time. 

“Hello, my love. I’m back” - you announce when you walk inside the room again, kissing his forehead before sighing softly as you sit down beside his bed once again - a routine that you know all too well now. 

Your hand grabs his own like it usually happens, except for the fact that his arm is missing a lot of IV tubes now, feeling lighter and giving you more space to caress his skin with your fingers. “I just came back from home, I went there and took a nice shower - don’t worry, I don’t want to be all stinky once you wake up” - you smile softly at your own silly words. It’s incredible how you managed to regain your calm and patience during this situation, like there’s an angel on your shoulder, reassuring you that everything will, in fact, turn out alright. 

“What can I tell you now that I haven’t told you already, ehm…” - you think for a second. “Oh, Roscoe keeps growling at me whenever I enter our place and he notices that you’re not coming inside beside me, like you usually do. I think he knows that you’re not just away for work, it’s like he also can feel that something is wrong. He is more quiet than usual, with a sad expression on his face, it’s painful to watch actually. But he almost bite me this morning when I was preparing his food, so I think you already have problems to solve at home with your son once you're back” - you inform him, a glimpse of humor and lightness surrounding your voice as you pick some braids that were on the front of Lewis’ face. 

“Did Miles mess with your hair again? God damn, let me get these out of your face, I know they itch your nose sometimes” - you say as you carefully adjust his hair, paying extra attention while touching his head. 

As you loosen the grip that your hand has on his own, so you can use both of your hands to touch his hair, you feel a grip on your fingers - like Lewis is begging you not to leave his touch. You immediately freeze in place, your eyes widen and your mouth agape as you stand in place, not daring to move an inch.

And yet again, you feel his fingers gripping your hand. “Baby?” - you call, carefully looking at his features, trying to find more movement or signs coming from his body. You notice that his breathing is not sounding as peaceful as it used to, it’s becoming shallow and less regular now, like he is trying to wake up. 

You pay attention to him, not knowing what to do now. Your body can’t even bring you to move, to call a nurse or a doctor, you just stare at the small reactions that his body is giving you. You just move your other hand to carefully touch Lewis’ face, caressing his beard and cheek the way you know he loves so much - trying to get him to react even more to your touch. 

His hand is still grabbing yours, applying more bits of strength little by little. “Lew, love, I’m here” - you tell him, and slowly, his eyes start to open. Your heart starts running in your chest, the emotion of seeing your husband waking up now being too much to handle. Still, you try to keep your composure - even with tears flooding your eyes by the moment, he needs you more than ever now, and you need to be here for him. 

His eyes stare at you, shining a light of its own as he pays attention to every little detail on your face, like he has gone too long without seeing you - in fact, he has. 

“I’m going to call a doctor, okay love?” - you tell him, and you realize that he is trying to nod his head at you, slightly doing the movement. 

Once the medical team enters the room, they immediately rush to Lewis’ side, running a bunch of physical tests on him to check his current state. Soon, the doctor starts asking him questions. 

“Mr. Hamilton, can you hear me?” - the doctor asks, and you see Lewis nodding his head again, with a more fluid movement now. 

“Do you recall what happened?” - another question. You are watching all this from the corner of the room, where you keep quiet so as not to interrupt the doctors.

This time, you finally hear Lewis’ voice. “A crash…” - his voice sounds thick and deep, failing him a bit as if his throat is feeling dry. The fact that he still remembers the crash makes a lump form on your throat, not ready to hear him mentioning it right away.

You take a deep breath, watching how the team takes Lewis away from you, so they can run some more exams on him. Everybody is ecstatic to hear that he is finally awake, and you are too. You swear that you are. It’s just that you aren’t ready to talk about all of this again, but you know you have to. You don’t want to clog his brain with a bunch of information right away, but you want to, at least, apologize. 

So, when Lewis is back in his room, the whole group reunites to see him. He is immediately engulfed in love by his parents, who gently hug him. He is still a bit off, he feels slow and tired, but he is trying his best to process everything. 

The feeling of relief washing over you as you see your husband smiling again, talking to his family and friends is priceless, and the bright aura surrounding the room is unmatched. But now, you are behind everyone else, staying by yourself in a corner while everyone else gets their chance to talk to Lewis - you already had yours, you had the privilege to witness his awakening, so it’s only fair if you let the rest of the group enjoy their time with him as well. 

But after Lewis speaks to everyone, he turns his attention to you, his eyes scan the room, landing on you. He gives you a soft smile, while holding out his hand for you. “Come here”, he tells you, and your body automatically follows his voice.

You stand next to his bed, giving him a small smile as he pats the space beside him on the mattress, inviting you to sit down. You do, and his free hand immediately reaches to caress your cheek while you two stay silent, just looking each other in the eyes. 

“Can we get a minute alone, please?” - Lewis asks everyone else in the room, who complies with his question, leaving you two alone. 

You stay silent, not really knowing what to stay - nor where to start, but it seems like Lewis knows everything that he wants to tell you. 

“I missed you” - he smiles at you, his hand never leaving your features, softly touching your skin, almost as if to make sure that you are real. 

“I missed you too” - you reply, gently kissing his hand as he holds it near your lips. 

There’s another moment of silence lingering between your bodies, the type that scares you, afraid and insecure of what he might say next - capable of drowning your brain in your own anxiety now, and it’s like he can read your mind. 

“It wasn’t your fault” - is the only phrase leaving his mouth, making you furrow your eyebrows. You just shook your head quietly, not ready to talk about this, but denying his words. It really was your fault, you are sure that it was. 

“No, baby, it wasn’t. I wasn’t fair to you either, I was hot headed, the whole weekend had been a fiasco for me already - nothing good could’ve come out of it. I want you to stop blaming yourself for all this, this is all on me. I was the one hopping on that car knowing that I wasn’t in the right condition to race, I was the one not paying attention to my driving nor the car. I would never blame this on you, my love” - his words are slow, but concise, and you can only lean your head on his shoulder, while your sobs take advantage of you now. 

Lewis lets you vent, caressing your back softly while silencing your cries. 

“Shhh, it’s fine, baby. It’s okay. I am okay, we are okay” - he looks you in the eyes again, slowly moving his face to meet your lips with his own, reassuring you that, in fact, he doesn’t hold any grudge against you - like you feared so badly. 

“I love you, I’m sorry” - you tell him, and the look he gives you - of tenderness, happy to be able to hold you again, to talk to you, to make amends, says everything. 

“I love you even more. And I’m sorry as well, I was fucking stupid” - he pecks the tip of your nose, making you giggle slightly, thinking about how badly you missed him, and how you are lucky enough to be in his arms again. 

You stay by his side, gently touching the parts of his body that aren’t injured - being especially careful with his broken shoulder. 

“So, I need to have a conversation with our son, huh? Biting you while you were feeding him? Sounds ungrateful” - Lewis tells you, making you both laugh in unison. 

“He’s been acting so angry and moody that I fear that he might bite off your good shoulder” - you tell him with irony, making Lewis giggle even more - the sound erupting in your heart, making a garden of wild flowers grow inside of you, where all the butterflies that he gives you are safely kept. 

And a few days later, Lewis was finally released from the hospital, allowed to continue his treatments at home. The man couldn’t hold the excitement inside of him, feeling like a little kid on the way home, eager to see his four pawed son, and to finally sleep in your shared bed, where he can finally hold you close. 

That’s exactly what happens. Roscoe immediately melts into a puddle of pats and licks once he sees Lewis, who could spend hours on end just playing with his dog. After having lunch, you bring the dog to the bedroom with you, watching Lewis’ figure peacefully lying on the bed, waiting for you to join him. 

With Roscoe lying by his feet and your head gently nestled in his chest, Lewis can finally sigh contently, and you can too - the nightmare finally ended, after weeks of living a whirlwind of emotions. Now, your heart feels lighter than air again - a feeling that only Lewis can provide you with his love, security and protection. It’s time to walk into the light again, hand in hand with the love of your life, who couldn’t be happier to be back in his safe place. 

He knows that he is in great hands, knowing for sure that you will take such good care of him, like you always do - and he realizes that heaven is not a place above the sky, but instead, is the depth of this moment, the peace prevailing in his chest and mind, as he forgets all the chaos, grateful to be in the presence of his family. 

[nocturnalcharm]

A Change in Attitude (Wolverine x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: everyone knows logan as the gruff man with a grumpy demeanor. but that changes when you’re around 𐙚 cw: sexually suggestive themes (no smut), kinda innocent!reader, dirty minded!logan (heheh i couldn’t resist), can’t think of anything else 𐙚 a/n: thanks for the req! <33 only proofread once bc i was so excited to post hehe

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“I’m so glad you accepted my invitation. Well, Charles’ invitation.” Hank was beaming, giving you a tight hug.

“Me too! Being a research assistant isn’t as fun as being an X-Men.” You gushed.

You and Hank had been friends for years, meeting when you were just kids. Your powers developed around the same time, making you lean on each other, since no one else could relate. Recently, he and Charles asked you to join the team, and you excitedly accepted. Who would turn down an opportunity like this?

You didn’t know much about the others, just what Hank told you, which was really just their names and powers, not their personality.

You walked into the building, taking a deep breath and accepting that this would be your life from here on out.

“Everyone’s in Charles’ office.” Hank made you aware. You nodded as he led you there.

Walking inside the office, you saw everyone for the first time. Colossus, Storm, Gambit, Cyclops… and Wolverine.

Logan was looking out the window, not paying attention to anything, while everyone else was thrilled to have a new team member.

“Ah, welcome, (Y/N)!” Charles greeted you. He introduced himself, as if you didn’t already know who he was. He went around the room and also introduced all the X-Men. When he said Logan’s name, he finally looked at you, and your stomach made you feel like you were on a rollercoaster just from his eye contact.

“I was thinking, we could all go out back and give a short demonstration of our powers. Does that sound alright to you?” Charles was so polite.

“Yes, that sounds perfect, Professor.” You smiled brightly.

As everyone shuffled their way to the yard, you caught Logan’s eye again. His frown and furrowed brow faded as he watched you walk outside, staring at you. You blushed, hiding your smile by turning away.

Once outside, everyone spread apart and prepared to show you their powers. They each did a speedy presentation, just showing you what they can do, or explaining their abilities. You cheered for everyone, wowed by what they could do! Yet again, Logan went last.

He stepped forward. “I have regenerative abilities. Oh, and these.” In a flash, he unsheathed his metal claws.

It took your breath away for a moment. “Nice! Very impressive.”

He nodded in thanks, returning to his original spot.

“Your turn, (Y/N).” Hank tapped your shoulder.

“Oh, yeah. Um.. My ability is bioluminescence. My hair glows on command, and I can create and throw light. It’s kinda similar to a ball of fire.” You placed your hands together, generating a small ball of light, before throwing it at a target in the yard, hitting a bullseye. The light ripped right through the fabric mark.

You got a few “oo’s” and “ahh’s” from the others, and from some of the students passing by.

“So that’s why your hair is blue! It’s so pretty.” Ororo ran over to you.

“Thanks! I like your hair too.” You smiled at her. You glanced at Logan to see his reaction, and he was already staring at you (again), with a smirk on his face.

“Amazing! So, (Y/N), tomorrow I want you to focus on combat training. While your ability is powerful, you might not always be able to rely on it. So, Logan will train you one-on-one, since he’s our best fighter. I want to see you two together at 8am in the training facility.”

“Yes sir.” You bowed your head in understanding.

The other X-Men dispersed, besides Hank and Logan.

“C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.” Logan walks over to you.

“Uh-” Before you could answer, Hank interjected.

“I’ve got it, Logan.” He replied.

“We’re gonna be training together anyway, might as well show her around. Get to know her.”

“Since when do you ‘get to know’ anyone?”

“Since now. Beat it, bub.”

Hank muttered a quick “I’ll catch up with you later.” And left you to the Wolverine himself.

Logan took you on a tour of the mansion, showing you just about every room. You had already forgotten where everything was by the end of it, besides the more important rooms. Throughout the tour, Logan was joking around with you, which you thought was strange. Not in a bad way! Just from his demeanor, you didn’t expect him to be the joking type, but you suppose you read him wrong when you first met. He was cracking you up throughout the entire tour.

Lastly, he led you down a long hallway. “The bathroom’s right here. It’s shared, so lock the door.” He winked. “And this is your room.” It was the last one on the right.

“Where’s your room?” You asked, and he pointed to the door right across from yours. “Oh! Convenient.” You laughed, thinking since you two were paired together, it was funny your rooms were next to each others; You didn’t even realize how it could come across as suggestive. He hid his smug grin.

You walked inside. The room was perfect for you. A nice bed, a closet, wardrobe, mirror, and a big window. There was also a small TV mounted to the wall. It’s all you could have asked for.

“Thanks for the tour!” You said as you walked over to your bags. Assuming Logan would leave you be, you started to unpack.

You pulled out the first packing cube in your suitcase, which just so happened to be filled with your underwear. You opened the wardrobe drawer and started to put away your panties.

“Y’need help unpacking?” You heard Logan’s gruff voice right behind you, making you jump.

“I-” You put your hands behind your back, hiding your underwear. “No, thank you.” A rose tint made its way to your cheeks.

“It’s nothin’ to be embarrassed of. We all wear underwear. You just happen to wear panties with little pink bows on them.” He winked at you.

“Oh my God.” You whisper, “I-I’m good. Thank you, Logan.” You usher him to the door.

“You sure? No matching bra I can help you put away?” He jested.

“Nope! No thank you! I’ll see you tomorrow!” You ushered him out, shutting the door, putting your back against it, and sighing.

Once you had most of your clothes put away, it was already 10pm. You didn’t eat dinner, since you felt too awkward to face Logan after the event that took place earlier. You just decided to take a quick shower, then head to bed.

You grabbed your essentials and went to the bathroom. The halls were quiet and dark, letting you know everyone else was likely already asleep. You showered quickly, wanting to rest up since you had combat training in the morning. Rushing through your routine, you were done in about fifteen minutes.

As you wrapped your towel around your body, you realized you forgot to bring your pajamas into the bathroom.

You groaned in frustration, but assumed it was fine since everyone was already away in their rooms. You grabbed your things and decided to make a run for it. Your room wasn’t too far from the bathroom. You unlocked the door, swinging it open and running— before knocking into something so hard, it made you fall backwards.

“Huh?” You hear a rough voice grunt out. Logan.

Of course it’s him.

You quickly repositioned your towel to cover yourself, while he turned around, confused. Looking down at you, he laughed.

“Are you okay?”

“I forgot my clothes…” You ignored his question, and completely forgot to ask why he’s standing in the middle of the hallway at night.. He offered his hand and you accepted, pulling you up like you weighed nothing. It was impressive. He leaned down, grabbing your shampoo and such for you, while you scurried off to your room. He followed right behind you.

“Sorry.” You apologize, as he sets your things on your dresser.

“Are you okay?” He asked again.

“Mhm, I’m fine. Thank you.”

You two stood there, for what felt like forever, staring at each other, only illuminated by the moonlight shining through your open window. You could use your powers right now, to glow, and light up the room, but you weren’t sure you wanted him to see you in a towel.

“I’m gonna get dressed now.” You break the silence.

“Oh, yeah. Goodnight, (Y/N).” He looked pleased.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

***

You’ve been tossing and turning in your bed for hours, with it now being 1am. You didn’t know why you couldn’t sleep; a new place, the thought of spending alone time with Logan in a few short hours, or the fact that your stomach pinged in pain from not eating dinner.

After wrestling with your thoughts, you decided to go downstairs to the kitchen and get a snack. Just a quick one, to settle your stomach.

You slipped out of your room and headed straight for the pantry. There were dried berries, nuts, jerky; lots of healthy options. You grabbed a small package of trail mix and sat at the bar, tearing it open immediately.

Lost in your snack, you didn’t even see Logan enter the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” His voice startled you, making you yelp in fear. “Wasn’t trying to scare you, doll.” He laughed.

The nickname made your stomach flip. “I didn’t eat dinner, and I couldn’t go to bed.”

“S’alright. Just messing with you. But you should be sleeping. How else are you gonna take me tomorrow?”

“You mean ‘take you on’?” You emphasized.

“Yeah. Sure... Cute PJ’s.”

You looked down at your clothes; an oversized t-shirt and red plaid shorts. “Ha ha. Thanks.” You responded, sarcastically.

“C’mon, you can finish your snack in your room. You need to sleep.” He helped you up from the stool and walked you to your bedroom.

Once he turned around to go to his own bed, you said “Goodnight, Lo.” Giving him a nickname, since he gave you one.

He stopped in his tracks, and turned around. The smile on his face was something you could stare at forever.

“Goodnight, doll.”

***

The alarm on your phone woke you up, after the few short hours you slept. You dragged yourself out of bed and slipped on a tank top and Nike shorts. Then, you went to the bathroom; brushed your hair, teeth and freshened up before heading to breakfast.

Once you entered the kitchen, there was a lot of people— X-Men, teachers, and students alike. Only the X-Men, who were grouped at a table in the corner, noticed your appearance. Ororo waved you over, so you swiftly grabbed something to eat, and sat down next to her.

“G’morning!” You said, cheerfully, trying to hide your sleepiness.

They all greeted you back.

“How’d you sleep?” Ororo asked, making you glance towards Logan, who was trying to hide his laughter.

“Eh. I couldn’t really.” You shrugged. “Just nerves, I guess.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That’s terrible, especially since you have to train with Claws over there. He doesn't really take it easy on anyone.” She jokes.

“Don’t worry. I’ll loosen up, just for today.” He had a satirical tone in his voice.

“Aw! Claws has got a heart today, huh!” Ororo laughed.

“Just for (Y/N).” He stood up, taking his now-empty plate over to the sink. You ate quickly, wanting to get a start on your day. Logan noticed your clear bowl, which a few moments ago was inhabited by fruit.

“Let’s go! We’ve got a lot to work on.” His tone was dramatic, teasing.

“Okay, Lo. I’m coming.” You stood from your seat.

Everyone looked at you like you had just sprouted another limb from your forehead.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hank replied hastily, “Have fun.”

“C’mon.” Logan wrapped an arm around your shoulders in order to hurry you out the door faster.

Walking down the endless hallways of the mansion, you two finally reached the training facility. It was a huge, open room with a tumbling mat covering the floor. On one of the walls was a huge window, looking into a room with stadium seating— no doubt to have students watch and learn.

He started you out with conditioning; jumping jacks, running laps, planking, and everything else you could think of. You had already broken into a sweat after 10 minutes due to his intense regimen.

He continued his teachings, showing you how to throw a proper punch (which he made you test out on his stomach), evading attacks, and good footwork.

“You’re pretty agile. Do you have any background in fighting? Or acrobatics?”

“Yeah, I did gymnastics for 14 years. I’d hope by now I’d be pretty nimble.” You laughed, and he had a look of awe on his face.

Hours later, you were finally putting his teachings into use.

“We’re gonna spar now. I’m not going hit you, but you’re going to really hit me. Okay?”

You looked worried, and your eyes dropped to the ground. “Uh, I don’t know—”

“Hey.” He brought your attention back up to his face. “Regenerative healing. Metal skeleton. You can’t hurt me with your fists or feet. I promise.”

You just nodded.

“So, again. Come at me with everything you got. If you manage to knock me out of the ring, you win. If I pin you down, I win. We’ll stop training for today after this.”

“Okay.” Your voice wavered.

You two walk over to the mat with a big, white circle on it, and stand on opposite sides.

“Ready?” He cocks his head with the faintest smirk on his face, knowing you had just about no chance of winning. Of course you were unaware of that.

“Mhm!”

“Set. Go!”

He immediately runs at you, and the first thing you can think of is to kick his side. You raised your leg, and struck his ribs as hard as you could.

Quickly, so quick you didn’t understand what was happening, he grabbed your leg and pulled, sweeping your legs out from under you. You landed on the ground with a thud. It shocked you, unable to think for a moment.

But that moment was all it took for Logan to pin you to the ground, straddling your stomach. You tried to wiggle your way free, pushing his body with all your might, but it was no use. You were immobile.

You tapped his shoulder, signaling your loss. He got up and extended a hand to help you.

“I thought you said you were gonna go easy on me.” You fake-pouted.

“Oh, c’mon doll.” He grinned, “You did good. We’ll keep working on training tomorrow, okay? Same time.”

You nodded, right as you heard the doors behind you open to show Hank.

“Hey, (Y/N). Do you wanna eat dinner with me?”

“Ah, yes!” You jumped with enthusiasm. “We have some catching up to do.”

“Cool. Is she good to go?”

“Yeah, fine. Good work today.”

“Thanks, Lo!” You ran off with Hank, needing to shower and get ready.

***

“So, how’d today go?” He asked, taking a bite of his food. He ended up taking you to a really nice restaurant to congratulate you on your first day.

“So good! I feel like Lo taught me a lot, honestly.”

“Before I forget, did Logan ask you to call him ‘Lo’?”

“Uh.. no? Why?” You worried.

“It’s just… Logan is really friendly with anyone. He doesn’t do jokes or nicknames. It’s a little shocking you called him ‘Lo’ and his claws didn’t immediately come out.” He laughed.

His words left you even more confused. Hates joking around and nicknames? That’s the opposite of how he acts around you.

“But, he plays around with me? And he called me a nickname first. I thought he was okay with it.” You were nervous that the nickname you’d given him had somehow upset him…

“Yeah, that’s why it’s so.. out of the norm. Maybe he’s got a crush on you.” Hank’s voice dripped in mischief.

“No, that’s definitely not it. Lo’s just—” You corrected yourself. “Logan’s just like that with everyone. He doesn’t have a crush on me.” You couldn’t, didn’t, believe that someone like Logan, The Wolverine, would like you.

Hank chuckled, “(Y/N), I’ve known him for years. He isn’t like that with anyone.”

There was silence as he continued to eat, but you just sat there, butterflies in your stomach, unable to think.

“What did he call you? The nickname?” He asked, casually.

“Doll.” You mumbled, barely audible, embarrassed.

He nearly choked on his food, “And you think he doesn’t like you?”

“No…I think he was just being nice.” You responded, genuinely.

“Yeah... Okay.”

You finished your dinner with Hank, changing the subject and ignoring talking about Logan altogether, and just catching up with each other. You indulged in a few drinks, which was probably a mistake. You were not really a drinker, and definitely a lightweight, leaving you more than tipsy as you left for the mansion. It was late when you finally arrived, and most everyone was asleep.

You two both headed for your rooms. You quickly changed into another oversized tee and crawled into bed. But just like the night before, you couldn’t sleep. This time, for a different reason. It was definitely the alcohol talking but you needed to talk to Logan.

You threw on a pair of shorts and snuck out of your room. His door was closed, so you knocked. With no response, you quietly turned his doorknob. Once open, you saw him, asleep. His messy hair, in combination with his bare torso being exposed, made you feel sick.

In a good way…

In the best way…

You tiptoed over and shook his shoulder. “Logan. Wake up.”

He didn’t budge. “Looogaaann!” You whisper-shouted, and immediately you heard metal unsheathing.

His eyes flew open, “(Y/N)!” His claws retracted. “What are you doing? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” His panicked state made him stutter out his words.

“Shh! You’re so loud. You’re gonna wake up the whole neighborhood. M’fine.”

“Are- Are you drunk?” He rubbed his eyes in confusion.

“Hehe.. Maybe. I needed to talk to you, though.”

“What’s wrong, doll?” He scooted over and patted the edge of his bed, wanting you to sit. You followed his order.

“Nothin’. Do you not want me to call you ‘Lo’?” Your words slurred.

“What? No, I like it.” He grinned but his brows were still furrowed in perplexity. “Why do you ask?”

“Hank said you don’t like nicknames. Or jokes! But we joke!”

“Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“He said you have a crush on me.”

He held his breath, “Okay, maybe he does know what he’s talking about.”

“Y-You like me?” You hiccuped.

“Of course. How could I not?”

“I like you, too.” You whispered, almost scared of him hearing you.

“You do? Not just because you're drunk?” He quipped, pushing your hair over your shoulder and exposing your neck.

“Definitely not just because I’m drunk.”

You made your hair glow, wanting to see his face more clearly; wanting to study his expression, and never forget this moment with him.

[astrolook]

Decode the Universe: Why astrology and tarot are the ultimate power couple! #6 - Final

Aquarius - Jan 20 -Feb 19 : Venus / Mercury / Moon in Aquarius

Venus in Aquarius - King of Swords - "Love me for my mind… or don’t. Either way, I’m good."

These people looks good, thinks even better.

They are loyal but detached.

Their style of romance is an intellectual exercise.

Straight to the point, no sugarcoating.

Logical, futuristic, and somehow attractive? That's Venus in Aquarius for you.

If venus is afflicted, can be cold as ice and too logical in love. Can be too blunt and ignores others opinions.

Mercury in Aquarius - The Fool - "I have no idea what I’m doing… but it’s brilliant!"

Thinks so outside the box, they forgot boxes exist.

Their ideas sound crazy—until they work.

Spontaneous thinker and quirky AF.

They text at 3 AM with life-changing thoughts.

Conversations with them? A rollercoaster.

If mercury is afflicted, they say wild stuff, then watches your reaction like a science experiment. Believe in crazy conspiracy theories. Easily distracted and reckless curiosity. Loves saying weird things just to confuse people - Troll energy.

Moon in Aquarius - The Star - "Weird? Nah, I’m just from the future."

No matter what happens, they believe in the glow-up.

Feelings? Managed. Chaos? Observed, not absorbed.

Always thinking light-years ahead of you.

They have an unconventional wisdom. Might drop life-changing advice mid-meme.

Their dreams are bigger than the solar system.

If moon is afflicted, they love you from a distance. Loses hope easily and gives up easily.

Pisces - Feb 20 - Mar 20 : Saturn / Jupiter / Mars in Pisces

Saturn in Pisces - Knight of Cups - "Hopeless romantic, but with a five-year plan."

These people now love isn’t a fairy tale—but still believes in magic.

Dreams big, but also does the work.

Will write poetry about you and show up on time.

Soft heart, strong spine.

If saturn is afflicted : wants and waits for the perfect moment, which… never comes. Carries emotional baggage - neatly packed. Trust issues and the walls they built for themselves aren't gonna go down soon.

Jupiter in Pisces - Hanged Man - "Going with the flow… straight into another dimension."

Sees life differently. Finds luck in weird places.

Spiritual AF. Probably has deep conversations with ghosts.

Knows things without knowing how they know.

While others rush, they marinate in wisdom.

Believes the universe handles things for them and trusts the divine timing.

If jupiter is afflicted, they could be the master of procrastination. Could be delusional. Zero sense of urgency. Sacrifices too much and cannot pick a path. Could be staying in an abusive relationship and be waiting for the right time to come out.. No, it won't come.

Mars in Pisces - The Moon - "Fighting battles… mostly imaginary ones."

Mysterious AF and a spiritual warrior.

Could be having prophetic dreams.

These people are the defender of underdogs, lost souls, and stray animals.

Can turn daydreams into reality.

If mars is afflicted, jealousy arises. Passive aggressive. Uses guilt as a weapon. Plays the victim and the villain at the same time.

I hope you all liked it. I'll come back tomorrow with another topic and stay tuned!

Curious about your birth chart and what it's really saying about you? 🌟 Slide into my DMs for a personalized astrology reading, and let's unlock the secrets of your stars. ✨ Don’t forget to check out my pinned post for pricing details! 🔮 Let’s make those cosmic connections happen! 🌙🌌

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part twenty

authors note: this is more on the boring/filler side, and i apologize for that, but it covers some necessary things and hints at other things. plus, the one after this is wrestlemania and then after that is the infamous disney trip, and those def won't be boring/fillers. 👀

also, what do you ya'll think reader is having? i'm also open to name suggestions cause i hate naming characters lmao

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, angst, and suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 6.6k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @wanderingreigns @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine @romanreignsbae

Life is one crazy ass ride.

You’ve always known this, but the past few months have really shown you just how insane things can be. It’s been up, it’s been down, it’s been just a fucking rollercoaster of events and emotions, but somehow, things always seen to work out in your favor.

You expected, maybe more so hoped, that your Live with Jadah would go over well. Would help people see and understand that there’s so much more to the story, so much more to you than the lies that have been fed to them by your apparently psychotic ex-best friend. That was the semi-goal.

Well, to say that goal was met is a bit of an understatement.

The Live went viral, spreading and making it to most global and some international platforms. TMZ formally issued an apology to you, Joe, and Jadah, and retracted their story with Mariah, even scrubbing the interview, which Joe’s legal team believes is only to avoid getting caught up in the several lawsuits she’s been slapped with. 

So many publications have turned the tide, no longer speaking on you and your situation with an almost judgmental stance but rather just reposting the Live and letting the facts speak for themselves.

And social media…..holy shit. 

One thing you never expected was for the Live to go viral, but you especially never expected for yourself to also go viral in a different way, that is.

While the general public was initially against you, bashing you every which way to Sunday, it’s almost completely turned with the vast majority now utterly and wholly intrigued with you. They’ve dug up old headshots from when you cheered in college, clips of you either practicing or competing, and a few Snap videos you were in, again, all during your college years.

Not to mention the clips they took from the Live, primarily of you playfully twerking with Jadah. That clipped with the TikToks you did with Naomi has resulted in people making TikToks and “edits,” as Alexis explained, posting and sharing everywhere.

Apparently, the vast majority of social media finds you extremely attractive, and have even been comparing you to the infamous prison bae, Jeremy Meeks, from way back when. Minus the criminal aspects, of course.

“Look at this one! These are my favorite.” Alexis turns her phone so the group of you can see what is yet another edit of you, err, more so your ass than anything to good googly moogly by Project Pat, which apparently was already going viral on TikTok as people post videos of friends and loved ones with a nice ass. Seems you’ve been added to that group.

“I don’t get the fascination,” you admit with a shake of your hand, fingers tapping against your glass of lemonade. “Like, I’m not even famous.”

“You kinda are now,” Bianca suggests. It's a crazy suggestion, too, because in what world does someone like you, from a small ass town with virtually no major social media footprint, qualify as famous. “Not like, A-List celeb famous, but you don’t make it to the Shade Room if you’re not at least kinda famous.”

Alexis makes a sound, adding, “ya’ll whole lil situation made the March event on their calendar.”

“On their what?” Jadah is understandably confused, asking, “what the hell does that even mean?”

“Twin, I’m gonna need to make a PowerPoint for you or something.”

“Please do, and make sure to add the fancy transitions.”

“Custom slide backgrounds?”

“You know the key to my heart.”

The meeting and union of Jadah and Alexis remains to be seen as one of the worst or best things you could have ever done. They’re so damn similar it felt almost criminal to not introduce them, but with both having such strong personalities, a clash could be one of the titans. So far, however, they’re vibing just as well as you and Jadah have. Hence why all of these ladies are sitting around your coffee table, various drinks in hand, most alcoholic, except for yours of course. 

Which reminds you…

“Oh shit,” you announce, four sets of eyes falling on you as you realize you haven’t shared the news with the majority of them, ironically, Jadah being the only one to know. “I haven’t had a chance to ask.”

You decide to be dramatic as hell, pausing as Alexis is the first to say, impatiently, “ask what, hoe?”

Another pause followed by an intentional rub of your belly as you nonchalantly ask, “which one of ya’ll wants to be in charge of planning the baby shower?”

You’re met with instant screams and squeals of enjoyment, a big smile falling on your face as you’re hit with all of the questions and exclamations. 

“I knew it! I knew it was just a matter of time before BDJ struck again!”

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, congratulations!”

“No freaking way! That’s amazing!”

“I’m gonna act like I didn’t already know, so congratulations, great value sister wife!”

Alexis and Jadah’s statements make you laugh while Bianca and Kaylah’s cause your heart to swell. You then try to quiet them down, “thank you, guys. We’re excited. But, we haven’t told Callie yet, so please keep it to yourselves.”

“Of course.” Kaylah excitedly asks, “how far along are you?”

“Almost three months,” you answer, proudly. Although entirely unexpected, or maybe not depending on how you look at it, you’ve found your excitement at this pregnancy growing every single day. Excitement at having another child, giving Callie the chance to be a big sister, to give Joe the opportunity to experience this pregnancy with you from conception to birth and beyond. He deserves it, especially now that you know what he went through with Jadah.

“Wait. Damn. This means we can’t have a hot girl summer until next year!” Alexis is pouting as she downs the rest of her drink before reaching for the bottle to get a refill. “You couldn’t let that nigga shoot up the club later this fall instead.”

Kaylah’s nose turns up as she also takes a sip of her moscato but not before muttering, “didn’t need that visual.”

Rolling your eyes, you point out, “Alexis, we are too damn old to be having a hot girl summer. Half of us are moms and/or in relationships except your non-committal ass.”

Non-committal has nothing to do with the topic that floats to the front of your mind, but having a room full of women to consult with seems like a perfect opportunity to discuss something that’s still bothering you to some extent.

“Let me ask ya’ll something.” You take a sip of your sparkling apple cider and get to explaining. “So, every time I try to talk to Joe about planning for when the baby gets here, like having my mom or his mom come stay with us a bit to help out when he’s on the road, he either ignores me, changes the subject, or just pacifies me. And I’m trying really hard not to cuss him out, but between baby emotions and me being me, it’s hard.”

Being perceptive is always something you’ve prided yourself on, valued as one of your attributes, so it’s hard not to miss when Kaylah, Alexis, and even Jadah all look suddenly uncomfortable with your question, like they also want to change the subject.

Bianca is the first and only to speak out.

“Yeah, that’s kind of weird.” Her agreement is the quintessential example of validation you were needing for this situation. “I get you’re barely three months, but why not start with the plans now? The sooner the better since it seems like his schedule is pretty hectic.”

Throwing your hands up in the air, you echo her sentiments. “Exactly! And one thing to know about me, which I know he has to know about me is that I like to plan. I hate surprises. We need to start figuring out this shit now.”

“I’d definitely talk to him about it, cause men can be very go with the flow, but this isn’t one of those things that I think should be go with the flow.”

“I feel like you should maybe just wait it out and see where the cards fall.” Kaylah’s suggestion is casual, but her eye contact is sparse, and you actually don’t know what to make of that. 

Jadah contributes to the conversation with agreement to Kaylah’s point. “I agree. Trust your man, whore.”

“But—” And as if present and overhearing said conversation, your phone starts to ring, the man himself filling up your lock screen. “Speaking of the devil…..” You lift and show your phone to the group. “I gotta take this ya’ll.”

“Well, duh.” Alexis says like it’s a no brainer. “BDJ probably won’t stop calling until you pick up anyway.”

Laughing, you untangle your legs and climb off the sofa at the same time you answer his FaceTime, quickly telling him, “hold on.”

“I’ll be back,” you inform, but the last thing you hear is Bianca making the awful mistake of asking Alexis what “BDJ” stands for. Alexis and Jadah start to laugh. 

Obviously, Jadah also knows what’s up. 

Locking the door behind you, you sit down on the patio set that was delivered only two days prior and situate your phone on the accompanying table. Legs crossed, you give him the go, “okay, i’m good now. Just wanted some privacy.”

He doesn’t hesitate to slide right into protective papa bear mode. “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Your hand unintentionally lands on your stomach as you explain, “had some nausea this morning, but that’s not out of the norm. I had pretty bad morning sickness when I was pregnant with Callie the first few months.”

You can tell he’s not entirely satisfied with this answer, leaning more on the concerned and conservative side. “When’s your next checkup?”

“April 8th. I made sure to schedule it so you can be there.” Joe indicated he wanted the first Monday after WrestleMania to be a day of rest for you and Callie, and it can still be, but you also couldn’t miss the opportunity for him to be a part of your first official well-baby visit. Especially with this being the first time you’ll be able to hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

That must especially be special for him.

“I promise I’m okay, Joe.” Out of respect for him and his emotional state at such an important time in his life, you haven’t told him everything Jadah shared with you. Haven’t made him aware of your knowledge regarding his loss. You’re not sure if you ever will, to be honest. If he wishes to discuss that with you, you’ll always be there to listen and support. But, there’s zero desire to dig up painful memories and trigger this man. 

That doesn’t, however, mean you can’t reassure him when you can see there’s a level of anxiety and apprehension. 

“If I wasn’t, you and Dr. Young would be the first to know.” It’s a promise. You would never do anything to risk unnecessary complications with this pregnancy. “How do you feel? You look tired.”

He’s looked as such for the past couple weeks, and you feel slightly bad, knowing the whole Mariah ordeal must have taken a toll on him. Not to mention his intense training and preparation for WrestleMania.

Of course, he just shrugs, playing it off. “I’m good.” You make a knowing sound. “What?”

“Seriously, Joe. This is me. I know you like the back of my hand. You’re exhausted. It’s okay to admit as such.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. I promise.”

Joe is every bit stubborn as he is caring. He won’t agree with you, but that doesn’t make what you’re saying any less true.

“Whatever, just know I’m giving you a well deserved massage when we come to see you next week.” Coyly, you imply with a shrug of your shoulder. “And maybe a lil’ more depending on the layout of your place and if we can get some privacy from your lil’ twin.”

“Naw, that lil more is happening no matter what, even if I have to fuck you in the rental.”

His tone of surety makes you laugh as you think about something. “I don’t think we’ve ever fucked in a car before.” The list of places this man has been balls deep in you is endless, but a vehicle and plane seem to have not made the list. Yet. “Might have to change that.”

He also laughs. “Wherever you want it, baby, you just gotta tell me when and how.” Just more and more reasons to love this man to infinity and beyond. He matches your freak so well.

Joe asks about Callie, of course, and you let him know she’s in seven heaven playing with her cousin in her new room that’s gradually filling up even though she still doesn’t even have all of her stuff from back in your apartment. It also goes without saying that you remind him she’s absolutely thrilled to see him soon, the same as you, which is the same as him. Reunions between the three of you are just all around enjoyable.

Naturally, Joe apologizes, for no good reason, at not being able to come with you as you take Callie back to your hometown for your final apartment walkthrough and to close all other matters, officially making your move to Florida complete. It’s a bit of a bittersweet thing, leaving the place you grew up and have so many memories in. However, what’s ahead of you is so much better than what’s behind you. 

And while you would love Joe to be able to come too, it’s also not necessary.

Especially when he finds out what else is on your agenda before you say goodbye for good. 

Realizing your time with him could be cut at any moment, you decide it’s now or never to break the news to him. “There’s something I need to tell you, and I know right off the bat, you’re not going to be in agreement, but I need you to just hear me out.”

He’s hesitant and already skeptical but nods. “I’m listening.”

A deep breath followed by a quick prayer to the big man that Joe will at least try to be open to this plan. “I’m gonna go see my dad while I’m there.”

This is something you’ve really been thinking about, on and off, since the Christmas ordeal. It just hasn’t been such a major priority given all the other fires you’ve been having to put out. Alexis was right when she said the dynamic with your dad has a lot to do with the situation with Joe and not telling him about Callie.

And you being able to acknowledge that has made you realize you’ve been holding onto a lot of pain and anger towards that man. More pain than anything. And it’s time to let it go. The same way you’re leaving that town for good, albeit bittersweet, you need to drop the baggage of hurt at the door before the curtain closes permanently.

In this case, that means sitting in front of the man who is your biological father and nothing more, speaking your peace, and closing that chapter.

For good. 

To some extent, you expected, maybe more so hoped, for Joe to be more receptive. 

It was wishful thinking, at best.

Immediately, he protests, face turned up in a scowl that reminds you of Callie when she’s in one of her moods. “Like hell you—”

Closing your eyes, you do your best to keep your voice leveled. “Hear me out, please.”

“Y/N, do you not remember the last time you saw that man?” Most definitely do you remember. That was definitely a low moment for you. “You were a fucking wreck. I’m not seeing you go through that again, especially with you being pregnant.”

“Do you really think if I had even an inkling it wouldn’t be safe for our baby I’d be doing it? Come on, Joe. You know me. I would never put either of our children in harm's way.” And you know he knows this, knows this very well, but you can also understand his anxiety from a couple different angles. “Before when I saw him, I was still looking for his love and approval. I can admit that now.” It’s been a tough pill to swallow, going back and forth between emotion and logic, coming to grips with such an uncomfortable truth. “I don’t need that anymore. I don’t even want it. I have you. I have Callie. My mom. Our friends. Even this new baby, but if I’m leaving that town for good, I need to leave all of the hurt it brought me there too. That includes making my peace with him.”

When he still doesn't say anything, you continue to plead your case.

“I need to do this, Joe. I’m not asking you to understand.” You’re not quite sure he could. This is one of those things that unless you’ve lived it, lived with a neglectful, uninvolved parent, you just couldn’t get it. “I’m just asking you to trust me.”

He’s quiet for a few minutes, and you already know it’s because he’s sitting on your words, doing his best to meet you where you are. Eventually, he says in a resigned voice, “I don’t want you going alone.”

There’s an immense amount of gratitude for his blessing, and his request is more than fair.  You also figured as such, assuring him, “I already talked with Bianca about it. She’s gonna go with me.” 

This seems to make him feel at least a little bit better. He scratches his beard. “Alright. But the minute you start feeling off—”

“I’ll cut it off. I know.” That goes without saying. You meant what you said. Nothing could make you put your baby at risk. “Thank you, Joe.”

Not wanting this to be the last topic you discuss, you switch gears a bit to something that will hopefully lessen his unease. “I also think we should tell Callie when we come to see you next week. I just told the girls today, and I’m gonna tell my mom while I’m there. Callie deserves to know.” The order of which you’ve told people about your pregnancy isn’t exactly how you would have preferred it to go. In a perfect world, it would have been Joe, Calllie, your mom, and then your close friends. But, life be lifing, so you just have to roll with it as best you can. 

Joe nods. “I agree.” You overhear a distant voice in the background before his gaze falls on you. “I gotta go, babe.”

It’s hard not to feel disappointed. “I get it.” This pregnancy has your emotions a bit on the high, sensitive end, because there’s no reason for you to feel like crying just because this man has to get back to work. You miss him like crazy, sure, but this has always been a bit of the dynamic. You get him in doses, sometimes big, sometimes small. “Can we still call you tonight? You know Callie can’t sleep unless she can tell both of us goodnight.”

It’s such a twist, a beautiful, unexpected thing. Once upon a time, it was just you she needed to see and/or speak to before she could fall asleep. But now, it’s both you and Joe, and you honestly couldn't love that more. 

Their relationship and bond is so precious to you.

And now that you understand what Joe’s been through, you can see why he’s always willing to move heaven and earth for her. She’s the little girl he’s always wanted and finally has.

“Of course.” You weren’t expecting any other answer. “I love you.”

A warm smile sets on your face. “I love you too, baby.”

You settle on a time that works best for him and end the call. Ignoring the sadness at not being able to talk to him further, you walk back in the house for a sure pick-me-up.

“Well, it’s about time,” Bianca teases, dimples nice and pronounced. “Thought we were gonna have to check on ya’ll.”

“No, she’s back too early….” Alexis, as per usual, confuses you when she asks, “ya’ll weren’t having phone sex?” She curses and then grabs her purse, digging out her wallet, slapping a wad of cash into Jadah’s expecting hand.

“Told you,” Jadah says knowingly, smirk on her pretty face as she counts the cash. “One thing I do know about Joe is he’s an all out type of man. It’s rounds or nothing.” She then looks over at you, apologizing, “hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t.” It’s an honest answer. You’re old, mature, and secure enough to acknowledge and be okay with the fact your man has been with her in almost every way he’s probably been with you. Outside of the emotional connection component, which is really what matters the most to you. Sex would just be sex if you didn’t love him as much as you do. If he didn’t love you as much as he does. That’s what makes it so explosive. 

“Well, it bothers me!”  Kaylah looks so disgusted, and you can’t blame her. “Joe is literally like my brother!” 

Bianca cosigns with a shake of her head. “And it bothers me because Y/N literally is my sister.”

“That’s so wild, so ya’ll are half sisters, right?” Jadah asks, pointing between the two of you as you move back onto the sofa. “Same mom or…..”

“No, same dad, but we don’t claim him.”

Jadah makes an ‘O’ with her mouth as Alexis leans over to whisper something in her ear. “Got it. Daddy issues. Ya’ll should just jump him then.”

“That’s what I said! Stomp his ole’ mean ass.”

Yeah…..putting Alexis and Jadah together may have created a new kind of threat to society.

“Anyway.” Refocusing them is really the best and only option. “As we were discussing, ya’ll think I should bring it up to Joe when we fly there next week?” You then remember the pact mentality and aim your question toward Bianca. “Let me just ask you, cause you seem to be the only one who gets where I’m coming from.”

At that, Bianca opens and closes her mouth. “Oh. That. I…..I think you should just leave it alone. I’m sure Joe has his reasons.”

Now it’s your turn to look shocked. “What? That’s not what you said literally not even 10 minutes ago.”

Bianca switching up on you definitely wasn’t in the cards, especially since she was providing you all the affirmation and validation you were seeking in your dilemma. 

She looks off, almost in a guilty, sheepish way. “I changed my mind….”

“What did ya’ll say to her?” It’s directed toward Alexis and and even Jadah, because Kaylah doesn’t seem like the type to try to sway people one way or the other. “Can’t leave ya’ll asses alone for two minutes.”

“I don’t like your tone, Mama Mia. Watch it.” Alexis warns, and you can only roll your eyes. “What you need to be focused on is what you’re gonna wear to the Hall of Fame and WrestleMania.”

Kaylah gasps, also remembering. “Shit, I completely forgot about that.”

Your eyes land on her with premature excitement. “You’re going to the awards too?” She nods and you let out a big sigh of relief. “Oh thank god, I was kinda nervous. I’m sure Trinity is going too, but the more the merrier, I feel like I’m gonna be so out of place there or everyone’s going to hate me.”

“Girl, like Joe is going to let that happen.” Jadah is, surprisingly, the first one to jump to calm your nerves. “Him taking you in and of itself is such a ‘fuck you’ move. He really said ya’ll not about to bully the woman I love and think I’m finna just keep her on the backburner.”

“I agree.” Kaylah chimes, providing additional and useful context. “The internet wrestling community is a cesspool, and they’ll always find some reason to complain and bitch, but Joe has never been about that. He’s gonna have you on his arm regardless of who has something to say about it.” 

“Ummmm, why are we acting like majority of the internet isn’t all on Y/N’s dick now that ya’ll cleared up the air?” Alexis lifts her phone, adding, “I literally can’t get on TikTok or Twitter without seeing edits and photos of Y/N that the internet has dug up. They can’t get enough of her.”

“Her ass, specifically,” Jadah adds, and you shake your head. 

“I think what they’re trying to say is that maybe you should redirect your focus on fashion and hair choices vs public perception, because it seems to be in your favor currently.” Bianca’s advice is wise and on time. It also is very much giving off teacher vibes, just another thing you two can connect on.  

You’re really happy you asked her to come visit you. 

That you gave her a chance.

It’s proving to be a really good decision.

“Well, I’m gonna have my mom do my silk press while I’m there, so there’s that.” Typically, you avoid heat like the plague, sucking up the pain in the ass wash days to keep your curls hydrated and thriving. However, you’re okay with every now and then sitting in that damn chair for what feels like, and is, hours for these special occasions. And attending the Hall of Fame awards as well as WrestleMania definitely constitutes a special moment. “As far as fashion…..I have no idea. I don’t really have a lot of fancy clothes, and the ones I do have are before Callie and even now with the weight I’ve gained from this pregnancy already, I don’t know if I can still wear them.”

“Well then it’s obvious what we need to do.” Alexis says with a ‘duh’ tone. “We need to go find you some dresses! Like, today.”

“I probably do need to pick up something too.” Kaylah says with a heavy sigh. “I think Josh said something about wearing red.”

“Of course you have to wear red. That’s Bloodline colors.” 

You chuckle at Bianca’s enthusiasm. It’s kinda cool that she’s also into wrestling. You’re so tempted to ask Joe if he can get tickets for her, Darius, and Taylor, but you also don’t want to do too much. It already means a lot to you that he got tickets for your mom and Alexis. 

“I hate to pull the girls from their playing. They must be having a blast considering not one has come down in like over an hour.” It’s true. Not to mention you can also occasionally hear the chorus of giggles and shouting indicating just how great a time they’re having.

“I can watch them for ya’ll.”Jadah’s suggestion causes all sets of eyes to land on her. She rolls her eyes. “You all go get the shopping done, and I’ll stay here with the kids.”

“Jadah, you don’t have to—”

“I don’t mind. I’m not really that big on shopping anyway.” Finally. A difference between her and Alexis. “Plus, I have some client stuff I can get caught up with.”

You’re still reluctant, offering her another out. “If you’re sure….”

“Y/N, I would hope by now you’ve figured out I’m too blunt to lie. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to.” Jadah shrugs, directing her next statement to Kaylah and Bianca. “If you’re also good with it too, of course.”

Bianca and Kaylah echo agreement with you, hence it being decided.

With a chuckle, you announce, “I guess we’re going shopping.”

———-

Things have been hard since you first landed back in your hometown.

Saying goodbye to your students was hard. 

Saying goodbye to friends in town has been hard. 

Bidding farewell to the apartment you first brought your sweet little girl home to after she was born was very hard.

Visiting your grandma’s grave one last time for who knows how long…..that’ll be brutal.

But this….confronting your father for the last time…

To say you’re a bit on the anxious side is putting it nicely. 

This was always going to be on the nerve inducing side for a variety of good and valid reasons. It’s just getting to the moment where it happens, where you sit in the parking lot of the restaurant he agreed to meet “you” at is just bringing out some indecision you’re certain comes from a place of anxiety.

Finally stepping out of the car, you and Bianca reach the door of the restaurant when she turns to you, mouth turned into a bit of a frown as she reminds, “you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s not about what I want to do. It’s about what I need to do, Bianca.” It’s the truth. This isn’t something you’ve been dying to have happen your entire life, but for the sake of your healing, it’s what needs to happen. “But, if you feel uncomfortable, I totally get—”

“Not at all.” She reaches for your hand. “You’ve got this.”

A deep breath followed by a head nod as you accept her hand. She gives you a little squeeze and opens the door, leading the way figuratively and literally. As expected, he’s already there and waiting, sitting near the back of the restaurant. You’re not surprised a man like him is right on time. He seems like the punctual bastard type.

And Bianca has reiterated as such before. 

Together, you walk hand in hand towards him. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he lights up with a genuine smile at seeing Bianca, but that smile almost instantly drops when he sets his gaze on you.

Expected. 

Wholly expected.

Immediately, his nose is turned up in visible disgust, primarily directed toward you. “Bianca, what is the meaning of this?”

“What?” Her voice is full of nonchalance as is the expression on her face. “I told you your daughter wanted to speak with you.”

He just didn’t know which daughter.

There’s no denying or misunderstanding his anger at the subterfuge. He shoots up from the table. “I’m not putting up with—”

Bianca is quick with it, assertively informing him, “if you want even a chance of seeing Taylor again, you’re gonna sit right back down and hear her out.” It means the world to you that not only has Bianca agreed to be here with you today, but it’s the fact that she’s willing to be so loyal to you.

Like a sister.

Because she is your sister. 

He scoffs almost immediately. “Using my grandchild to blackmail me? That’s low, Bianca. Your mother and I raised you better than that.”

She crosses her arms and matches his energy. “You are the last person that needs to be talking about raising anyone.” She then looks at you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “I’ll be right over there if you need me, okay?”

Nodding, she gives you one last supportive squeeze and ignores her father to walk over and slide into a booth across the room. 

Left alone, you watch him begrudgingly sit down so he’s across from you, same set of brown eyes locking. It kills you how much of yourself you can see in him, starting with the same set of eyes. You just have to remind yourself that that’s where the similarities end. 

“This won’t take long, which I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear.” He doesn’t agree nor disagree, not that it makes much of a difference to you. At all. “I’m moving from this town. Tomorrow’s the day I hand over my keys, and I’ll officially be living in Florida full time. Not that you care, because we both know you never have and never will give a flying fuck about me.”

“Is there a point to this?” The edge in his voice, maybe even a couple months ago, might have killed you. Stolen your joy. Now, it does nothing. He no longer has that power over you, because you’ve taken that power back. 

And it feels so damn good.

“I did it, you know.” Without giving him a chance, if he even would, to respond, you continue. “I made something of myself. I’m successful. I have a career. I found love all without you ever doing a goddamn thing for me.”

For a second, you swear you see a different emotion flash in his familiar irises, but it’s gone almost instantly, replaced with that permanent disdain you refuse to allow sway you from your goal.

“I have a man who loves me in every single healthy way that exists, who loves our daughter more than there are words in all the languages put together.” Emotion chokes you up, but you manage to stick with the mental points you made for this conversation. “And you wanna know something? We conceived her when he was still married.”

Leaning forward as you lower your voice, both for privacy and emotionality. “But, I didn’t tell him. I deprived him and our little girl for the first almost five years of her life because I was so scared that he was going to be like you, that he was going to reject her and hurt her the way you hurt me.”

It’s a bit painful for you to verbalize those words, but also so damn liberating to free them from the confines of your subconscious.

To also release those shackles they had on you. 

“But, I was so so so wrong, because he is the best damn dad she could have asked for, and he was angry with me for not telling him about her. He wanted to be in her life. He wanted her. And it’s through that I finally realized something.”

Your voice cracks as you finally release your truth and acknowledge freedom from over 30 years of emotional bondage.

“I’ve finally realized after all these years that it’s not that I’m not good enough for you.” You shake your head, pointing at him with all the intention and determination you can muster up. “You’re not good enough for me. Not good enough to be my dad. Definitely not good enough to be a grandfather to my kids. Not good enough to be in my life.” There isn’t an ounce of hesitation or a stutter in your voice. “It’s not that I don’t deserve to be in your life. You don’t deserve to be in mine. You never did, and you never will.”

And never again will you seek out that love and validation from him. You don’t need it. 

You never did.

“I actually feel sorry for you, because I am an amazing, strong black woman who was raised by an even more amazing, strong black woman who was also raised by a phenomenal black woman. And my daughter….” Just thinking about Callie, her warm smile and the great big hug she gave you, before you and Bianca left her and Taylor with your mom, makes you all choked up again. “—is the kindest, sweetest, smartest kid you could ever meet. But as long as there is breath in my body, you will not know her or any other kids I bring into this world.”

That’s a promise, an oath, a swear on everything that you love and hold dear.

“After today, you are dead to me, and I truly hope you one day see all that you missed out on, but I’m not going to wait around for that. I’m going to spend the rest of my life surrounded with love and family because that’s what I deserve.” Grabbing your purse and sliding out the booth, you make eye contact with Bianca who starts to head over. “Take care, Captain Wilson.”

As soon as she’s at your side, he shoots up from the booth. “Bianca, if you leave with that girl—”

“That woman,” Bianca corrects with all the sharpness. “You mean my sister?”

His lips turn up with a hateful snarl. “This hoodrat trash is not your sister.”

You actually laugh at his words, laugh at the fact that he’s truly so pathetic and a piece of shit he couldn’t even take any of what you just said to heart. It also makes you wonder if he’s aware of all the shit that’s been happening online regarding you. Not that it makes a difference.

It’s just something else he would try to use to justify not being in your life.

Like a coward.

“No.” She lifts her chin, taking your hand. “She is my sister, but you?” Bianca shakes her head, and you can hear the emotion catch in her voice. “You’re not my father. You’re the trash.”

If he offers a visible response to her harsh words, you’ll never know because Bianca tugs on your hand, directing the both of you to turn around as she marches you out the restaurant. Once out of the vicinity, she spins you around and brings you in for a big, loving hug.

“I’m so damn proud of you.” Eyes closing, you accept and lean into her embrace. You’re also insanely proud of you. “You said what you had to say. The ball is in his court now.”

“I highly doubt he’s gonna do anything with it.” Separating, you again thank her. “I really appreciate you being here with me today. I’m not sure Joe would have been okay with me doing this, if you weren’t here.”

She smirks, head tilted to the side. “Nowhere else I’d rather be, hun.”

It’s the truth. Along with the fact that you’re not even sure you would and even could have gone through with this if not for her assistance and support. It’s crazy how the people you’ve met in recent months have become such important figures in your life and the people you thought were important are now strangers.

Life….always a wild ride, for sure.

“And speaking of Joe….” She’s understandably confused as you casually throw out, “guess who’s going to WrestleMania with her little sister?”

Bianca’s eyes are as wide as saucers. “Seriously?” Laughing, you nod. “Oh my god—” She captures you in another big hug, the two of you nearly hopping like damn teenagers. “Wait, just me or—”

“Of course not. Taylor and Darius too. I feel like he might divorce your ass if you tried to go without him.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” Her laughter lessens as she looks at you with admiration and appreciation. “You really didn’t have to do that, Y/N.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal.” And it wasn’t. After biting the bullet and pushing aside unnecessary anxiety, you just shot Joe a text asking if there was any way Bianca and her family could attend Mania. His response was an almost instant yes. “Besides….we’re sisters.” Your eyes begin to water as you give a one shoulder shrug. “We look out for each other.”

Her smile matches the emotionality of this moment. “You’re damn right we do.” Sniffling, she wipes her eyes and then gasps. “Shit, now I need to find a dress. Does this town have any stores where I could maybe find something?”

Her question is so laughable. “Not really, sis. Let’s just wait till we fly home. I’m sure we could find you something there. Maybe the boutique where I got my dresses."

Home…..

You’re not sure if you’ve referred to Florida as home prior to this moment, but it feels so good, so right. Like it’s where you’re supposed to be. Where you were always supposed to be. 

Home with your daughter, with your man, with the baby growing inside you.

With your family.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading TGCF: Chapter 65

For those who don't know, I am reading TGCF for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag Bloopitynoot reads TGCF. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read BUT if you followed along with my SVSSS read, the rules and vibe are the same.

No chapter yesterday because I had union meeting things to do in the evening, BUT today I WFH and woke up early to do laundry. It was the perfect time to read a chapter and enjoy some oolong.

This chapter was TOO MUCH.

Let's go chapter 65:

The wind master and I are going through the same thoughts right now. I also immediately thought of the earth masters arrays and began to rethink every scene they were in. p226

Looking back at all of the small details dropped casually is wild. Especially the spy comments between Hua Cheng and He Xuan. p228

Dang, I'm actually so sad that He Xuan kept the real Ming Yi basically the entire time as a prisoner. p229

This balance is intense! Shi Qingxuan having to pretend "ming yi" is their friend while also trying to dodge devious traps. p233

This BBEG battle is a lot! The way He Xuan just snatched the water master's fan like it was nothing! p235

Shi Wudu is finding out. The karma is rebounding today for sure. p237

Okay but I actually agree with Shi Wudu here, the wind master did nothing in this entire situation except exist. Shi Wudu was the one who ruined He Xuan's life. p241

oof. The ultimatums! The choices that He Xuan is giving the bro's is awful. Though the first option left some wiggle room I think. He said anyone in this crowd. I would have chosen to swap with He Xuan; let him have his OG life back. p245

Holy shit what a turn!! Is Shi Wudu about to murder his bro? How did we get here??? p247

WHAT!? WHAT!? HIS HEAD! p250

I see you mxtx. Mhmmm..."tonguing is the fastest way to draw spiritual energy". [side-eyes] p252

Wait a second. Pause everyone. Okay, so. Xie Lian kissed him to get energy for the soul shift. But like, 2 seconds into the attempt, he was like, "yeah I didn't think the shift would work because Shi Qingxuan is dead or mortal now" WHY THE KISS THEN XIE LIAN HMM. p254

I know this is a very serious chapter and incredibly terrible things happened, but also it's a little funny to me that throughout this entire tragedy Pei Ming is jut on the beach doing carpentry. p257

RIP Qi Rong's eyeballs apparently. p259

Xie Lian is so chill about Hua Cheng's involvement. Like, he didn't even blink. just; yeah shit, you are right. Not my business. p260

[Just rests head on the table]

This was too much. I am not so sad about Shi Wudu, that felt like an inevitable end, but I am actually so sad about Shi Qingxuan. I hope at least we get a resolution on that front. Even if it is just us finding out they're dead :((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((

I gotta take a walk; a rollercoaster of emotions!

[gemapples]

my new year's artwork won't be done until tomorrow, but i at least wanted to make a little post celebrating it before it turns! see you in 2025 ❤️

going into a personal ramble about my year under the cut. im mostly just talking to the void but feel free to read if you want!

this year has been. wow. if i had to put the definition of an emotional rollercoaster it would be this year for me

so much happened, yet so much DIDN'T happen simultaneously?? i don't really know how to think tbh 😭 i think above all i'm relieved it's over and i get to (hopefully) have a fresh start again

i got a lot accomplished this year. i graduated and got a degree which is a huge thing!!! i went for and accomplished lot of difficult things i had to do that i wouldn't even think about considering last year, and i feel my mental health has been beyond improved from it. last year i took note of how i consistently put myself in a box to make others happy, and i noticed i significantly improved in regards to how i see myself and made sure to put my own health first. there's still MUCH more to work on, god, and i've still been struggling with it, but i've been taking steps and that's all that matters to me. i want to continue taking better care of myself next year

on the downside though.. a bunch of personal stuff i had no control over happened in july and to put it in a way, i was scared for my life. it's settled now, and even got better, but i haven't been that terrified in a very long time. it was so difficult for me to cope with and i'm very grateful it's not something to worry about anymore, but i would be lying if i said i wasn't scared for what horrific event next year will bring for me. i noticed the past few years, something awful happened that made me seriously question, doubt or even straight up hating myself :') and i'm not looking forward to experiencing that again next year in the slightest. but at least, i'll try to get better at it

i've felt pretty disappointed and unhappy with my art this year as well, for whatever reason. it was mentioned to me that it could just be burnout (i HAVE been drawing more consistently than i ever have throughout this year, especially due to college, which makes sense) but whatever i try to do experimental-wise, i just can't be happy with it. i think the major reason is the way i've been shading, because i might be instinctively holding myself back. i don't want my art to be too eyestrainy or give people headaches by looking at it obviously, but i feel like as a result i've been making my art feel too "muddy" for my liking. so! i decided one of my new years resolutions will be to be way more spontaneous with the way i use colors and try not to put that box on myself. one thing i can say is, i tried a Lot of new things with art this year, including working on complex backgrounds, putting in way more effort into pieces enough to be full illustrations, etc etc. and i hope to break a ton more boundaries next year too. regardless, i can't thank you enough for your continued support. it seriously means a ton to me. i know i repeat myself a lot but i always mean it

hopefully 2025 will bring us more kirby too! we haven't had a full year without a new kirby game since 2021, and even then forgotten land got revealed! so i get the feeling something HUGE is coming. also looking forward to pokemon legends z-a too (im insane over it). and the hypothetical manager magolor plush. <- copium.

thanks for reading, and i hope 2025 is a fun, enjoyable year. hopefully it'll be nice to us

~ mac ❤️

[luvbinnies]

rollercoaster of emotions

sungchan just wanted to go to the amusement park with his two friends, unforunately for him, those two friends are absolutely smitten for each other

Genre: wonbin x Gn!reader. fluff humour. Warnings: mention of piss/pee, sungchan third wheeling. Rollercoasters, swearing (I think), I wrote this in three in the morning 😭 wc: 1.5k

A/n: I won’t be posting anything until probably next year since my last exam is the fourth and I should probably have been studying instead of writing this lol

“Wow I swear this is the most fun I’ve ever had at the park before.” You state as the game worker hands Wonbin the big penguin plush he had won for you.

“Yeah that’s because it’s your first time at the park for fun, and not to be working.” Sungchan replies, tired of all the complaining you do as a worker at the park.

“And you’re not spending half your wallet on stupid plushies.” Wonbin grumbles. “You’re the one with the job, why did I have to pay for your game, just for you to continuously lose.”

He crosses his arms around the toy not letting you have it. “I had to win for you or you would milk out every penny from my pocket.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at your friend in front of you as he frowns with a pouty face and turns the other way pretending to act upset, at least you think he was pretending.

“Bini, I was the reason you got in the park for free because I work here, the least you could do is let me hold my child.” referring to the penguin in his arms, but he still refuses to acknowledge you.

“Fine, let’s go get those animal ear things. I’ll pay for all three of us to make up for it.” You attempt to grab his hands, but really so you can get the toy from him. Wonbin knew what you were trying to do and wasn’t going to just let it happen after he watched you empty out his wallet and repeatedly fail, probably the simplest rigged game at the park.

Causing the two of you to wrestle for the big plushie. Sungchan has to awkwardly stand there as two of his friends who are so obviously smitten for each other fight over a toy like children.

The two of you almost trip when Sungchan barges between you two and captures the fake animal for himself. “Hmm, what to name you? Mr. Peepee pants?”

“What no that’s so stupid-”

“I love it.” You unintentionally speak up as Wonbin was talking.

“Yeah great name.” Wonbin wholeheartedly agrees. Sungchan watches as his friend helplessly simps over you as you start contemplating whether the first name should be ‘Uranus’ or ‘Neon’.

“You know what I think,” Wonbin starts and you give your undivided attention to him. Sungchan knows that you only do that for Wonbin, whether it’s intentional or not, he can see, everyone can see how you are with him. Maybe except you two. Somehow both blind to the other’s admiration.

“I think we should get those animal ear bands, antlers would look great on Sungchan hyung.”

“Yn, it’s not that serious.” Sungchan whines as you take forever in choosing which animal headband would look best on Wonbin.

There weren't any antlers thankfully for Sungchan, so the bear ones were a good second choice. Sungchan had mentioned how’d you look good with the frog eyes one, knowing fully well that Wonbin thinks you look the best in green.

No doubt about it, Wonbin literally said that in his sleep one time.

Wonbin was just staring at you going back and forth between a bunch of different animal bands, both of you too absorbed at what you were doing, not noticing the employees getting annoyed on how much time it is to take to choose a hair accessory.

“I think I got it.” You walk back to the two, biting back a smile holding the band behind you.

“What is it?” Wonbin asks.

“Close your eyes.”

The boy in front of you rolls his eyes but obeys your demand.

You gently place the band on his head with a stupid smile on your face as you admire your best friend, all sungchan can do is groan at the interaction.

You tell him to look and he opens his eyes to see you smiling down at him with a cheeky smile on your face. He thinks you look pretty.

Maybe bro was thinking out loud because you seem kinda startled and confused saying, “Yes you do look pretty, but you didn’t even get to see it yet.” Awkwardly scratching the back of your head.

Wonbin clears his throat with the back of his hand, “Yeah, but I m-meant it like a question. Is it pretty?” Heat rushing through his face as he tries to cover for himself.

“Yeah, pretty. You’re always pretty.”

Sungchan is just standing there watching his two friends awkwardly throwing glances at each other and turning their faces away as if they aren’t right in front of each other in the middle of the store. It’s taking every ounce of his to simply not drive off a cliff.

The awkwardness between the two of you passes when sungchan starts pestering them to go on a ride with him.

It’s kind of always like that with you two, teasing and joking until someone compliments the other on a thing and both the receiver and the one who complimented get flustered over it.

“Isn’t that like the fastest ride in the park?” A terrified Wonbin asks.

“I think I read somewhere that it’s all of Korea.” You mention.

Sungchan knows that everything remotely scary is absolutely frightening to the younger boy and you’re quite the opposite. You have the most irrational fear of pumpkins. Not Jacko lanterns, just pumpkins, claiming they are frightening to simply look at and that you will simply start screaming when in the presence of one.

“Wonbin you don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can just go with yn-”

“No I’ll go. I love rides.” He attempts to say as convincingly as possible.

Which confuses both you and sungchan. “Bini, since when did you like rides? You can barely handle the pirate ship ones.”

“u-uh, it’s I- that ride you guys want to go on, I used to go on it as a kid, it’s just been a while.”

Frowning, not convinced, “Are you sure? You know we don’t have to go if you don’t want-”

He grabs your arm, cutting you off, walking in the direction of the ride. “No, I’m sure.”

Waiting in line wonbin would not let go of your hand, instead of being worried that maybe he was frightened about the whole ride thing, or that people around you might think you two are those annoying couples in amusement park rides who can’t keep their hands off of each other.

You were really distracted at the fact you felt like you were losing circulation in your hand and everytime sungchan said some fact about the ride his grip would just get tighter and tighter, making you want to squeeze sungchan’s neck hard everytime he opens his mouth.

Finally when it was your guys’ turn Wonbin lets go of your hand so he can put your guys’ bags in the boxes. Only for you to realize that you guys were at the end and the cut off was before sungchan, as he was behind the both of you.

Before you could mention it and say that you didn’t mind waiting for the next round. Sungchan had pushed you and when you turned to him he just gave you a quick wink and started making kissy faces.

Rolling your eyes at him, you kind of figured that sungchan knew you might’ve liked your friend without you ever telling him so.

Getting into the seat next to wonbin at the back since they were the only seat available, the minute you touch the seat, wonbin’s hand is on yours all over again. This time it was shaking completely.

“Wonbin, are you sure you want to do this? Sure you went as a kid, but most kids don’t understand the concept of danger and you're shaking badly.”

You stare at him as his eyes are closed, taking in deep breaths slowly. Watching as they start to speed up once the ride starts moving. The best thing you could do is hold his hand in yours.

As the ride starts pulling upwards he speaks up, “You know I never understood as a kid people liked going on scary things like these.”

“Huh? Didn’t you go on this one though?”

“No, I lied.” His voice became eight octaves higher.

“What? Wonbin why?”

“Because I wanted to go with you, I wanted to be with you-” his voice ends his sentence with a shriek when the ride stops at the edge of the highest concave.

His hand was not squeezing badly onto yours and as the ride went down you couldn’t really be scared anymore.

Sungchan got off of his ride with the wind completely messing up his hair and a jump in his step. Walking to the exit, he sees his two friends waiting for him. He sees the two of you still holding hands from before and wonbin’s face hiding in your neck still probably shaken up from the ride.

Now he’s wondering which highway to sleep on tonight.

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

WAG Bootcamp: Part 2

Part 1

Word count: 593

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: On her first-ever race day, Y/n experiences the chaos, stress, and excitement of Formula 1 as the WAGs teach her how to survive the emotional rollercoaster.

________________________________________________________

Y/n thought she had survived the worst of the initiation. She had learned the pre-race rituals, mastered (or at least attempted) the mysterious “paddock girlfriend face,” and even accepted that she now had to irrationally hate any driver who so much as looked at Lando the wrong way.

But nothing could have prepared her for race day.

The paddock was buzzing with energy—fans screaming, engines roaring, and mechanics in a frenzy. Y/n had barely taken a sip of her coffee when Kika grabbed her arm.

“Alright, rookie. Time for the next lesson.”

“What now?” Y/n asked warily.

“How to survive a Grand Prix,” Lily said, tossing her a pair of noise-canceling headphones. “Trust me, you’ll need these.”

Lesson Four: The Race-Day Survival Guide

Y/n followed the WAGs to the McLaren hospitality area, where they had their usual spots. The screens showed the cars lining up on the grid, and she could already feel her heart pounding.

“Step one,” Alex said, crossing her arms. “No matter what happens, you do not freak out on camera. If Lando crashes, you hold it together until you’re inside.”

“Wait—crashes?” Y/n swallowed. “We’re talking about, like, little crashes, right?”

Silence.

“Right?”

Susie patted her shoulder. “You’ll be fine, dear.”

Not comforting.

“Step two,” Rebecca added, “learn the art of selective hearing. The commentators will say stupid things, the fans will tweet even dumber things, and some guy named David Croft will mispronounce names. Ignore it.”

“Step three,” Carmen leaned in, lowering her voice. “If Lando is leading, do not say out loud that he’s going to win. You will jinx it.”

Y/n blinked. “You guys actually believe in jinxes?”

Kelly, who had remained quiet until now, turned to her with a dead-serious expression. “Max retired from Monaco 2021 because I said, ‘This is going well.’”

Y/n gasped. “Oh my God.”

“We don’t talk about it,” Kika muttered.

The lights went out, and the race began.

Lesson Five: How to Emotionally Handle a Race (Spoiler: You Don’t)

It started fine. Lando had a clean start, holding position. Y/n sat on the edge of her seat, gripping her hands together, trying not to scream every time someone got too close to him.

Then, lap 12 happened.

A driver—who Y/n immediately decided to despise for eternity—dove down the inside, nearly taking Lando out.

Y/n shot to her feet. “WHAT THE—”

Lily yanked her back down. “Cameras!” she hissed.

“That was reckless!” Y/n whisper-yelled, furious.

“Congratulations,” Alex smirked. “You just experienced your first ‘what the hell was that’ moment. There will be many more.”

For the next thirty laps, Y/n experienced every emotion possible. Joy when Lando made an overtake. Panic when the pit stop took too long. Rage when another driver squeezed him off track. She nearly passed out when he was fighting for a podium.

And then—P2.

“He did it!” Y/n gasped as Lando crossed the line.

The WAGs cheered, clapping and hugging.

Y/n exhaled, feeling like she had just run a marathon. “I don’t know if I can do this every weekend.”

“You will,” Kelly said, sipping her drink. “Welcome to the rest of your life.”

Lesson Six: The Post-Race Debrief

After a chaotic cooldown period, Y/n finally found Lando, still in his race suit, hair messy from his helmet, grinning as he pulled her into a hug.

“How was your first race?” he asked, slightly breathless.

Y/n looked at him, remembering everything—the stress, the screaming, the insane group of women who had taken her in.

She smiled.

“Terrifying. But I think I love it.”

[toximblee]

hello smeefo nation ,,, new fic alert ???

ao3 has yet to send me an invite email so ill be posting this fic here :3 very inspired by 'feral love' by bdoubleds on ao3 !!! i wouldnt say its to the point of a rewrite but i thought the fire metaphor was too good not to try out ,,, absolutely open to criticism, but pls try to keep it polite :D i copied the text str8 from my word doc so the formatting is a little off in some areas for some reason :( word count : 967

              Etho was burning. He was being swallowed by it. Flames licking at every bit of his body, consuming. The red and yellow of his bone marrow was blackening, charring with the outside, crumbling off in pieces.

              Being red was smoldering him alive, and he wanted more. Uncontrollable. The forest fire in him would engulf everything in its path, taking him with it.

              The flame in his chest didn’t start out blue-hot and rising. Episode 1, as he was spawned into the Game, something was gnawing at his upper torso like someone had taken a diamond pick between his pecs and hollowed him out. Then he met Joel in the mines. Playing around, joking about how he was so disappointed. Beside the hole, a small, supine red candle-flame flourished to life.

              Then Joel built him the ‘Relation’ ship. The fire swelled, crackling orange and marigold. Joel’s hand fit perfectly in his as he dragged him along, and so did he himself inside the soulmate-shaped cave in his chest. With Joel above him that night, Etho took to memorizing every mole and freckle on his skin, and all the constellations they linked together to make. Committing to memory very scar and discolouration, and the sandy beaches and crashing, rolling, foamy waves that consisted of them.

              Etho began to fall in love with everything Joel did. With Joel. With the green streak in his bangs, how he stuck out his tongue in concentration while belatedly redying the clump of hair yellow in the Relation after their Joel-enderman caused death. With his little cackle-giggles. With how he softened the ‘th’ in Etho’s name to a ‘f’ as a result of his lisp.

He too, softened around Joel, trusting him so far as to close his eyes as his soulbound would pluck arrows out of his body from the pillagers and smear an herbal ointment stretched with an awkward potion over the openings. Relaxed as he woke in the early mornings to Joel beside him. Thanked his mask for hiding any sort of embarrassing emotion after Joel traced the scar across his one red eye with tender, feather-light fingertips. Not that it did too much for him, as the tips of his pointed ears would flush pink-red occasionally. Traitorous things.

The transparent string of the fishing rod wrapped around Joel as he was tugged up. Unable to clutch, he plummeted.

<Smallishbeans> fell from a high place

<Etho died>               Joel’s eyes had turned to red after they respawned.

“They killed me, Etho. They killed me.”

Red. Red. They were Red.

Yellow. Canary. White-hot.

Joel chased Pearl down, who was clutching his chestplate. He sliced at her with his diamond axe before she died and her items exploded out across the moonlit grass, the blue-teal of the head of his axe shimmering with red.

Red.

“Shouldn’t have messed with us, Pearl! Shouldn’t have messed with us!” Joel cried as he laughed and took his items back.

The others started scrambling and fleeing. Cowards. Etho’s gaze connected with one before they’d left.               ‘You really let him do that?’

Etho’s eyes conveyed a message of their own.

‘You think I can control anything he does?’

Nah. He was just along for the ride. Joel was an unstoppable force. No immoveable object would even slow him. He didn’t let Joel do anything. He simply watched, strapped into the rollercoaster that was his soulmate. The most he could do was throw his arms up and laugh along.

“You do have it, we’ve been- we’ve been told you have it, you just lied through your teeth to us,” manic, frenzied red eyes focused in on Scar as Joel cornered him, diamond axe to his throat, “do you wanna lie to a red-name, Scar?”

Nervous laughs, attempted de-escalation from Grian.

“Oh, you don’t have any sugarcane, huh, Grian?” Etho felt the red curse biting as he walked towards Grian, “No sugarcane?”

He reveled at the laugh and hiss through his teeth he heard Joel make, teeth bared under his mask mirroring the sharp grin of his soulbound’s that he knew was boring into his back. Joel had changed him, or perhaps it was the curse, or both, and he had to tug himself back from slicing at Grian, from watching the crimson flower bloom and blossom and pour out.

Etho had never been red for long before in the Life Games. His series always ended soon after. This, this was different. He was with the infamous Red Joel. He was alive, and the red curse was swirling in his brain, and he’d wake up in the middle of the night, crazed for blood.

The Games tinkered with everyone’s brains, especially when the end of them were close. Everything became more lucid, nothing seemed real. It made people do stupid things. Too stupid.

They burned the ship.

Blue. Perano.

“The ship burns, everything burns! The ship burns, everything burns!” Joel yelled, chanting hysterically as he sprinted across the server, flint and steel in hand as he set fire to anything in his path.

The ship had burned. Everything would burn.

The yellow streak in Joel’s hair was red. Smeared, having been dyed from soaking up the blood of his kills.

Joel screamed, groaning, growling after he’d killed Scott. His red eyes glowed. If Etho looked too long, too hard, he could spot the flames flickering behind them.

“Etho, they trapped it, get back through!” Joel’s voice was shaky for once, not with mania, but with fear. He sputtered incoherently as his hands scrambled, latching onto Etho.

And they laughed. Foreheads pressed together. Laughed.

<Etho> tried to swim in lava

<Smallishbeans> burned to death

The flame in Etho’s chest mixed with the lava, dwindling, flickering out, as did the ones behind Joel’s irises.

After all.

The ship burns, everything burns. Including them.

[pumpkin-the-girlie-girl-vixen]

Living with Borderline Personality Disorder: My Journey of Self-Discovery

As I sit down to write this blog post, I'm filled with a mix of emotions - anxiety, sadness, but also hope and determination. The last few images I've shared have been centered around Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), self-awareness, and the importance of understanding and empathy.

For me, this topic is deeply personal. I've been living with BPD for many years, and it's been a journey of ups and downs, twists and turns. There have been times when I've felt like my emotions are spiraling out of control and I'm powerless to stop them.

But there have also been times of great joy, of deep connection and intimacy with others, of feeling like I'm on top of the world. It's a rollercoaster of extreme emotions, and it can be exhausting.

One of the most challenging aspects of living with BPD is the stigma and misunderstanding that surrounds it. People often view BPD as a "crazy" or "unstable" person, someone who is prone to outbursts and mood swings.

But the reality is far more complex. BPD is a serious mental illness that affects millions of people around the world. It's characterized by intense emotional dysregulation, impulsive behavior, and unstable relationships.

For me, living with BPD means constantly struggling to regulate my emotions. It means feeling like I'm walking on eggshells, never knowing when the next emotional storm will hit.

It means struggling to maintain healthy relationships, because my intense emotions and impulsive behavior can be overwhelming for others. It means I’m constantly feeling like I'm a burden to those around me, like I'm too much to handle.

As someone living with BPD, I've encountered my fair share of hurtful comments and misconceptions. But there's one phrase that never fails to cut deep: "Stop using BPD as an excuse."

Those words are like a punch to the gut, leaving me feeling winded and vulnerable. It's as if the person speaking is implying that I'm somehow faking my struggles, that I'm using my diagnosis as a cop-out or a way to avoid taking responsibility for my actions.

But the truth is, living with BPD is not easy. It's really is a constant struggle to regulate my emotions, to manage my relationships, and to navigate the complexities of everyday life. And when I try to explain myself, to help others understand what I'm going through, I'm met with skepticism and dismissal.

It's not just the words themselves that hurt, but the underlying message they convey. It's as if the person speaking is saying, "I don't believe you. I don't think you're really struggling. You're just making excuses."

Those words are damaging because they imply that I'm not worthy of understanding or compassion. They imply that I'm somehow flawed or defective, that I'm not good enough.

But the truth is, I am enough. I am worthy of love, compassion, and understanding, just like anyone else. And when I try to explain myself, I'm not making excuses – I'm trying to connect, to find common ground, and to build bridges of understanding.

So, to those who would say, "Stop using BPD as an excuse," I will say: “Please, try to understand. Try to see things from my perspective, to walk a mile in my shoes. I'm not making excuses – I'm fighting to be heard, to be seen, and to be understood.”

But despite the challenges, I've learned to live with BPD. I've learned to recognize the signs of an impending emotional storm, and to take steps to calm myself down.

I've learned to communicate more effectively with others, to express my needs and feelings in a way that's clear and respectful. I've learned to prioritize self-care, to take care of my physical and emotional needs.

And I've learned to be kind to myself, to practice self-compassion and understanding. I've learned to recognize that I'm not alone, that there are millions of others out there who are struggling with BPD.

As I look back on the images I've shared, I'm reminded of the importance of self-awareness and empathy. It's so easy to get caught up in our own struggles and challenges, to forget that others are struggling too.

But when we take the time to understand and empathize with others, we create a ripple effect of kindness and compassion. We build stronger, more resilient relationships, and we create a more supportive and inclusive community.

So let's keep talking about BPD, about mental health, and about the importance of self-awareness and empathy. Let's keep sharing our stories, our struggles, and our triumphs.

Let's create a world where people feel supported and empowered, rather than stigmatized or ashamed. A world where we can be our authentic selves, without fear of judgment or rejection.

And to those who are living with BPD, I see you. I hear you. And I believe you. You are not alone, and you are not defined by your diagnosis. You are strong, resilient, and worthy of love and compassion. Keep fighting, keep striving, and know that you are enough.

[luckyyyduckyyy]

THANKSGIVING MOOTIE APPRECIATION ❤️✨❤️

Happy thanksgiving y'all! And a good time zone to all my non-US/non-Turkey day havers lovelies!

Tis the season of thanks and I'm a very thankful goober this year! I only started getting active on Tumblr about half a year ago and there's already so many people and things I'm grateful for from this site alone! I've enjoyed so much art and events, participated in yap seshes, tag games, and ultimately felt pretty welcomed and at home on this site, and it's thanks to all you! <3<3<3

Special thanks to the DCA fandom in its entirety as well! All the discussions, artists, writers, and shared reposts with all the silly notes are awesome! Y'all inspire me all the time and make me wish I was more outgoing than I am just so I can say hello to each and every one of you!!!!

The list gets long, so for the sake of those scrolling by, I have put it below! Have a lovely day everyone! <3333

@midnight-mourning Your writing is just wonderful. It's everything!!! I adore it so much and your CS boyos have wormed their way into my heart and refuses to leave. Some of my favorite songs even remind me of them! (Don't tell Moon this but I am very attached to CS Sun-)(Honestly gotta be my favorite Sun I've read fr fr) Also! Thank you for just being so supportive, thinking about me in tag games, and giving ALL the tag notes! They're a wonder to read and have me bounce off the walls! I'm always so happy we're mooties! ❤️❤️❤️ (Also, fun fact, you're my first mutual too! It's insane to me HOW DID THIS HAPPEN GUAHPHIAHDKA)

@pointyfruit You! Your art? Muah, wonderful. I don't even care if it's not dca related because it's so good. The shape language, art style, and just unique takes on just anything and everything blows my mind! Let's not forget COLORS. Oml they are so PRETTY. It's like an explosion I never want to end. 💥💥💥 Also! So goofy, so silly, and COTL enjoyer! Let's GOOOOO!!! I don't engage with the fandom much but I DO love the game and honestly I almost beat it, but still have not because I don't wanna do the final boss fight. It can't be over bros... Anyways when I see your posts I always wanna just wave like a neighbor seeing ya blow up 10 boxes of fireworks on a casual Tuesday afternoon. 👋👋👋:D

@divinit3a SPINS YOU!!! 🐶🐕🐶 Heya silly meister! In the midst of reading your work, gotta say? Muwah, Perfecto! The sillies are putting me on a rollercoaster and I'm stuck on the ride! While my ability to yap is a coin flip every hour, you happen to bring the yappening out of me with all the fun notes and posts you do--We've already had so many fun convos! Speaking of posts, the art is peak and will STAY peak! The designs? Muwah. The colors? Muwah. You make even the creepiest of goobers hauntingly beautiful! We've may not have known each other for long, but you're someone I look forward to seeing on my dash/notifications every time I open the app! ❤️❤️❤️

@sinister-sincerely Hi!!!! I'm still sometimes in awe realizing we're mutuals! I really love your work and if I'm in the mood to read something but I don't know what, I tend to turn to Aftersome often, even though I've read both the og and the rewrite! It's like you're the master of writing angst, bitter unrequited feelings, and the strange tenseness but want of confusing relationships. It's gut wrenching and I wish I could write something so evoking! All your stories are amazing and I seriously hope you know that, they're such heavy hitters that they have marked a place in my memory. ❤️ Your art too is wonderful! They don't pop up often but when they do it's a real treat! I love that you use grey scale in a lot of your works and the style is just so pleasing to look at. Whenever I see the DCA in your style I wanna give them the biggest hugs, even if they'd pry me off seconds later! ✨✨✨

@r0b0s-robos / @r0b0-wannabe Waving at you excitedly!!! It's always a pleasure to see your reposts, you always find the good stuff! Plus, you always are trying to help out others and it's amazing to see, your efforts are able to make great impacts. :333 You're also another writer I appreciate immensely, and I'm so invested in your botanist au. The sillies and their botanist who is desperately trying not to fall in love with them!!! ADORE THEM!!! I can't wait to read more! ❤️❤️❤️ The times you post about writing ideas or silly things about the DCA has me nodding my head with a smile. Also, the little notes you leave in tags, despite usually being brief, always makes me so happy! It's like seeing the kind stoic look at you from their seat, let out a small smile, and say "I love this"- and then suddenly it's a blast of blinding white light of endearment straight to my heart. K.O.!

@chickenchirps27 Welcome back!!! I've noticed you've been much more active recently and it's always fun to see what you got goin on! Obligatory art mention, but it would be criminal to NOT mention it. ITS!!! AMAZING!!! THEY LOOK LIKE ROCK CANDY!!! Colors!!! I love it so much, the goobers look delicio- I mean they look adorable and masterfully crafted in each piece of art! And your sona, ugh, she's so gorgeous and alien in the best ways possible. I've never seen anything like her and I am in awe of how you came up with all her little details. Those mantis arms are SICK and I want them!!! (Though drawing may be a little hard if I had em-)✨✨✨

@amarynthian-fortress / @amarynthian-chronicles Hehehe! Boops you! >:D Honestly, thank you for always being the biggest sweetheart around and being so welcoming. You're one of the people that made me feel able to crack my shell more and be more active on here! Your writing is whimsical, your reposts and comments are always so kind and feel-goody, and you just always show you care and the randomest times! Catch me off guard why don't you! I love all the snippets and treats you post, and I'm saving many of your stories to read for rainy days! ❤️❤️❤️

@ping-ski My reaction to us becoming mutuals was- 💥💥💥:OOOOO💥OO💥💥 I think I've followed you right when I started getting active on here and gah, your art is wonderful. So lovely, stylized, and colored so simply yet so appealingly that I can't stop looking. Your aus make me want to read them and their designs are always top tier! Also, I cannot forget to mention you are SILLAY!!! So silly! Your comments on reposts are goofy and I love to read them whenever they come up on my dash! Not to mention your own posts- I will never forget the 3-in-1 solid block of dca encased in ice. I was in awe of seeing them encased and I suddenly wanted my own dca ice cubes to put into a drink and try not to choke on. ✨✨✨

@quilteddreamz Your writing. Oh my GOSH your writing! It's wonderful, beautiful, gah, I can't wait for your advent calender! I wish I could do something for it but I got 3 more weeks of large projects tapped to my back. I am sending much luck your way and know that I am excited to enjoy some daily dca! Don't break yourself over it too! I may adore the goobers but you're most adored first! Take care and keep being such a whimsical person! Muwah! ✨✨✨

@flowysgonemad You are also! Silly!!! You are so fun to see popping around my dash and your doodles just make me go :333 every time! I love your aus and you're a very kind/goofy person! I don't even remember how we became mutuals but garsh diggity dang it, it's awesome to see ya and anything you yap about!

There are MANY more mooties I want to appreciate and show off, but I fear I am currently omw to go to a large thanksgiving dinner and I'm expecting to be there for the rest of the day. SO! If you weren't listed, please know that I AM thinking of you! Have a wonderful time zone, and just know that my heart is so full knowing that you're all there! I can't believe there is that many of you to begin with that I can't fit you all within the time frame! (Would you believe me if I said coming up with all the right words to say here took me 2 1/2 hours?)

So! To all my beloved writers, artists, and sillies alike! From the bottom of my heart, really, thank you! For being here, even reading this, and appreciating the things I do as much as I appreciate you! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️✨✨✨✨✨✨

[la-di-da-la-di-dee-die]

Uhhh I feel really awkward posting this cus the fic it’s based on is like a decade old buuuttt if I don’t do it now I never will soooo-

Guess who finished binging the canon fae tales series by @not-poignant??? Me! It was like really awesome, and like heart-twisting at times (most of the time actually) and just an overall rollercoaster read, ten-out-of-ten. There were a lot of memorable moments and characters and situations that make the worms in brain really squirm, and to be honest I kinda want to draw a million different things, but I’ll settle on this for now lol.

so, my first art piece for this fandom needs to be angst, obviously, and I really enjoyed this one. I also tried out a couple new brushes, and I actually really felt that this flowed quite nicely. I usually struggle with staying on task but nope not this time. I did struggle with the background, and I amn’t very happy about it but ehhhh. You win some you lose some.

Everything to do with the Raven Prince kinda makes me insane (pos), like his whole character is a delight (like on a meta level, I’m sure that he’s a menace to the characters tho) every time he’s around, and Augus’ whole situation in that court will make me ugly sob if I think too hard on it. It did make me ugly sob when reading actually. He was never going to get a good outcome in that place, especially not as a pawn in game that was so much bigger than him. I’m so glad he got some closure TIP. And a hopeful ending.

the Nightingale genuinely creeps me out, like his whole ‘able-to-turn-into-thousands-of-birds’ thing is just… horrifying to me. Like. I did not know I could be creeped out this much, and that’s without compounding him being an evil fucking monster.

I genuinely love all three of them as characters tho, and just all of Pia’s characters in general! Not a single dull one, like they’re all so compelling and I just want to read about them forever and ever and ever. Spinning them in my head.

[simpjaes]

u have been putting me thru such a rollercoaster this week with your hiatus indecisiveness right when I start coming to terms with your absence on this site you’re like wait maybe I was jk and I’m like YAYYYYYYY but listen no matter where u go I’ll be an active fan 🙏🏼 tho I do like having u on here bc I get to send u anons and receive notifs whenever you post your little late night jay yearnings I wish neither you nor drunkhazed would be burdened with the presence of the chronically clenched kindergarten number line IQ engenes on here 😞 i miss her so bad but I’m very grateful that you’re still around for the time being <3

man, this shit happens every time i'm manic ;-; I'm sorry. It's like, i genuinely cannot stand how uncomfortable I am here but there are times where it's just like "it's just a website, who cares?" and I decide to stay. I think I'm too attached to some of my readers here and I guess I'm just generally not ready to leave yet no matter how much I wish I was. I keep trying to bite the bullet, but i also keep spitting it back out.

Sorry for the roller coaster fr. It will likely happen again. ;O; i do genuinely deal with hypo-mania that makes me feel capable enough to delete all of my blogs and disappear off the face of the earth but I'm learning how to deal with it and try to think before I make decisions like that. I've worked too hard on this blog to abandon it like that :/

hate that i want to be here at the same time, but I'm thankful you put up with me. I'll just start utilizing the option to turn off anon every time i receive hate. Also might just use tumblr as another platform to post my writing but distance from the social aspect from time to time. There's just...so many issues here, but also a lot of positives.

omg im being messy and yapping.