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#and for anyone who's in a place similar to where i was

pumpkinbxtch · 2 days

Note

sumn about dionysus’s daughter and percy being obsessed w each other irks be in so kind of way, can i req something about it???

I would come back from death for you .⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

— percy jackson x daughter of dionysus!reader

warnings: none, i think

a/n: ok, here comes my confession. I don't know if this is something that counts as "obsession" as such because there are different types of it. I wanted it to be a more tender or cute obsession. I don't know, maybe I'll explore more but with a darker side.

The emotion was devouring him from the inside out. He knew he would be leaving in a few days, and even though he'd rather fight Hades himself than give his life on a silver platter, Percy couldn't help struggle with the thought of not being in your arms again.

— I'll go with you — you said, even though you knew it wouldn't happen. — I don't mind dying with you if it's the only way to keep us together.

Really, he wouldn't mind too, but he knew he had to keep you safe. Dionysus would never forgive him if anything happened to you, and to be honest, neither would he. You'd stay; that was the right thing.

The best deal he could get for now was to be together as much as possible until the day came.

You didn't say it, but it had become an obsession for each other. barely at night could separate to go to your respective cabins, and of course, not counting those times when you or he would sneak away to spend more time together. Some campers watched, they knew what was going on but still turned a blind eye because who were they to judge? Besides, it suited them to maintain the discretion or Dionysus would truly be in a bad mood, as having Percy Jackson as a son-in-law was enough for him.

That night, you had already turned off the lights, only the moonlight accompanied you, and you let out a deep grunt that turned into a gasp when you heard a knock on your door, you squinted your eyes and then heard two more knocks, three in total.

Obviously it was Percy, and you quickly got up before anyone could see him in front of your cabin. As soon as you opened, he slipped in between the door and closed it by pressing his heel. When you smelled the worn sunscreen on the curve of his neck, you let out a sigh; it was as if during the time you hadn't been together, you had been slowly holding your breath, suffocating without him.

— I missed you — he murmured, squeezing your body a little tighter. He placed a kiss on your shoulder and leaned back to look at you.

— It's only been an hour since dinner, Pers — you said, and he smiled at the nickname taking your hand to walk with you towards your bed. in the end, you were the only one to sit on the edge of it because percy stayed watching your bedside things, fiddling with and looking at your makeup.

— I'm leaving tomorrow — he said, still with his back to you as he struggled to read the label of a lipgloss, the one that suited you so well and that he never feared smudging when he kissed you.

Your heart raced. —Tomorrow? But...

— Things have changed, Chiron told me — Sadness and anger evident in his voice. Percy wanted to set the world on fire with Leo's help just because he hadn't had a couple more days with you. Instead, he took your perfume in his hands and brought it to his nose to smell it. Trying to imprint it in his memory, at least, until he returned and could smell it from your own body where it mixed with thousands of other scents resulting in your characteristic one. The one that drove him crazy.

That idea made him laugh, in fact you were the daughter of the man who could made men crazy with a snap of his fingers, so Percy believed you had done something similar to him, the only difference was that he was happy with it. He would jump blindfolded out of the grand canyon for you if you asked him to.

After a minute, he understood that your silence wasn't exactly a good thing, and he ran his fingers over the other beauty items on your wooden dresser, before turning towards you putting his weight on the dresser.

— Everything will be fine — he was convinced, but the tears threatening to fall from your eyes brought him to his knees before you, so quickly that you held back a sob seeing him on the floor raising his hands to caress your cheeks as if you were something religious that he was worshiping. Her turquoise eyes shone in the moonlight with empathy and they let you know that you had never felt that kind of religious love for which you would die until you had him.

Ugh, you were so in love with each other that it was ruthless to separate you even for just a little while.

You bent down to kiss him, and he stretched his neck to reach your lips desperately, without wanting to lose any piece of you.

—It will take much more than death to keep me from coming back to you— he whispered inches away from your lips, and you smiled because you knew he was serious about that.

With time on your shoulders, you settled on the bed, and he cuddled with you until you fell asleep while he stroked your hair and kissed you on the cheek; you had never felt so safe in someone's arms.

And it was in the morning, just after their last kiss, that your body began to ache for him and his absence. You returned to your cabin, cranky and teary-eyed, looking at the mess he had left on your dresser last night and smiled, recognizing your boyfriend's quirks, but little did you know that all Percy was doing was looking for things he could carry with him during his quest. Things that were yours and reminded him of what he had to fight for.

—Nice hair claw, Percy— Piper joked with a pink spark in her eyes, and he smiled proudly.

Leo dramatically put his hand on his chest and sighed loudly. — Better no one get in HIS – our – way because someone's waiting for him.

“Yeah, better not” he thought.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#percy jackson x you #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy pjo #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #hoo x reader #pjo x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson blurb #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fluff

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ganondoodle · 2 days

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sorry i keep coming back to totk rants, but something that utterly baffles me from a game design perspective especially is

who, in their right mind, would think to put similar objectives with the same characters in the EXACT same place as its previous game when already reusing the same exact map (no, single rocks springkled around isnt a meaningful change, fight me)

like from a purely logical point of view its just ... not logical?? and TWICE so when most players will have played the previous game, so now that the exploration, which was the main driving point of it, isnt as satisfying simply bc you know most locations and what is what, the thing you need to do is subvert it as in you go to that location and theres something else now or something that leads to a new reveal, but not NOTHING either, bc you likely cared about what youd find- the satori mountain was such a cool mysterious place, so now you head to it to see what is now and its nothing but maybe an obvious treasure chest? thats both lazy (i realy use that since its way overused by people missusing it) and just ... it might be meant as a lil nod so that there isnt nothing at all but to me it feels even more condescending as if there were literally nothing instead

satori isnt here anymore? thats weird if its always been there, so you go find a cause, maybe theres a fissure somewhere you can enter a large cave system, an hidden entrance to the underground that reveals there is something corrupting the place somwhere nearby but not exactly in the same spot- make it into a bossfight at which end satori gets cleansed- maybe it got captured and taken somewhere else, to a place that was kinda neat but didint serve a big fucntion in botw like maybe it was dragged somwhere into the big tabantha canyon, or to the forgotten temple

you try to visit rito village but the snow and cold there got so bad that you cant even reach it without special gear, and when you do reach it its utterly frozen in thick ice and not a single soul is there, the perch of vah medoh is knocked over building a bridge as a subtle hint as to in what direction perhaps, its intriguing bc clearly they have to be SOMEWHERE, maybe they tried to use vah medoh to evacuate but bc its losing power and doesnt have a skilled pilot they crash land it into the mountains, now trapped there and due to the storm not able to send anyone out to get help, maybe some did but they didnt make it and you can find them on your way and rescue them, and bc of the storm being so bad no one can get out and no one can get in (except for our special boi linky ofc) and even after the storm has weakened they dont immediately go back and act like everythings normal, maybe theres an extra mission afterwards helping them rebuild the village but not exactly the same as it was but fortified, different to account for things like this happening again, establishing the crashsite of vah medoh as a second outpost, or a temple, to thank it for bringing them out of immedaite danger but couldnt go all the way

theres so many places that are so clearly modeled around botw that are entirely unused now bc they had to remove all things shiekah for no reason, the holes they left jsut being holes where somethings clearly missing or some chest with a gem in it while the new shrine thing is within view distance a few meters away, might as well have put them in the exact same place bc it really doesnt make a difference

(like alot of those ideas im using for the rewrite which changes many things but you get the point right??)

and its even worse imo with the building stuff, bc now you dont even have to journey there you can fly glide and literally drive there instantly like a giant skip button so you cant even appreaciate the way to it, you skip to one important part to the next

and then points of interest are REPEATED AGAIN, like with shrines and lightroots and settlements and big mines- that is the opposite of satisfying gameplay, you dont have to explore shit bc its all in the same place which is probably why they only did tiny changes to those few spots and nothing else bc they knew most people would run right to those so it gives the illusion of changes (which are half reversable or barely a change at all) and even those are STILL meaningless

its right up there with having even MORE grind with less substance to it than in botw, the shrines and krogs got a lil old but at least the environment, its subtle storytelling etc were something- and totk just bloated everything with more little meaningless collectables while not changing anything meaningfully (and instead pretends that some things where never there and those new boring things were always there)

more shriens with shorter puzzles or none at all, more krogs with the same reward system, over a hundred tiny caves that all blend together bc they are all so similar and you really only do them for yet another colelctable for old gear and ONE cool new one with a bad effect after which the things collected become uselessreally, souls to collect to buy you a single armor set, rewards being largley reused old stuff from botw (imo you should have a chest in your house, yes YOUR house, that got most of the standard versions of botws armor in it so you dont have to buy it all again??? but you gotta think of going home first and dont have to use it- make new versions of them alternatively so you can choose if you want the old one or new one and also LEAVE ONE AT YOUR HOUSE WITHOUT HAVING TO SELL IT SO YOUT INVENTORY ISNT AS ENDLESSLY SCROLLING AS YOUR STUPID ARROW BAR)

theres new effects from food and armor thats largely useless (like the attack when hot?? why wouldnt you you jsut combine an armor and a potion- put on hot armor and drink an attack potion? its way more efficient no?? idk i found it to be yet another effect thing to bloat my inventory especially when NPCs keep giving you shitty effect food)

the whole sonanium (zonaite?) collecting with multiple ways to convert it into yet another currency??? huh???? AND have it be the thing for you to autobuild with?? when you need it upgrade your battery which takes an insane amount of those stones?? wells, while finally an actual well are NOW ALSO LIKE A COLLECTABLE and im gonna take a wild guess that the reward is utterly disappointing too

the fairies are all blocked by much more annoying means than in botw (like i wouldnt want to carry those NPCs three meters away in their little cart antoehr time please) and the amount of material AND MONEY NOW you need is so much higher for no reason (if its their attempt to make the game harder its the lamest way to do it)-

all while instead of expanding on the foundation of botw they ripped it out to build a new one while pretending they are both there (im so so slaty about this .... a sequel like this should expand upon the stuff of the first game, both in theme, narrative, mechanics and more and not ... replace it with slightly different versions of it while abandoning everything established before and really only using it as a way to skip having to make you care about some characters bc you might still care about them from the other game)

i could go on, as always lol, anyway, i really really dont get why this got into the final game ..

#ganondoodles talks #zelda #ganondoodles rants #totk critical #*cracks knuckles* time to rewrite and design #no but literally #putting the same objectives into the same places with the same characters ........ and then repeating important places AGAIN in the-#-undergound is just so ........... thats the opposite of what you should do wtf #like im only an aspiring gamedev but ............... right????#like theres so many things #make the zora not be able totalk bc they are all poisoned by the goo so you have to understand them via weak fignerpointing #also have the champs be around the actual dungeon already so you can literally find the dugneon yourself AND do it right away #without having to go to the town- ask where is- get told where is- get little fight- get little puzzle- get dungeon that is often worse-#-defeat way to easy boss thats also found in depths- gets SAME CUTSCENE EVERY TIME- all problems go away- town normal again #there is quite literally no permanent change to anyone

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plecakism · 2 days

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im not gonna make this aesthetic because we r tired for that but im gonna be so honest with you, we have no clue if we are coming back to this account

we've been editing for almost a whole year and i think that we are already mostly done with the community

the stuff thats happening on editblr is honestly outrageous, one minute you see a cool edit the next minute you see someone get called out for having a similar style as another editor or acting out of the ordinary and getting harrassed because of that, like... huh? how did we get here

i think some of you need to understand that most of this community are mentally ill teens that just wanna have fun and edit some stupid graphics for goofs, and you still decide to harrass them for an edit looking similar to that edit or whatever and i think some of you guys just do not understand how art works or you guys just want an excuse to harrass teens on tumblr which is NOT going to help with your lack of bitches and loneliness its just going to make their mental health worse

and some of you who make callout posts... who make callout posts... on MENTALLY ILL beings who are just VENTING... you are weird and we dont like you

most of the callout posts anyone posts are just mostly useless and i think that they should only be posted if its anything serious or illegal and not something like "oh this person said something BAD to me!!! DISLIKE AND UNSUBSCRIBE!!!", i agree, the cluv and engagekiss callout was def needed but something unnessecary should not be made

also... PLEASE. LEAVE. DEACTIVATED. ACCOUNTS. BE. if you feel the need to mention a deactivated account every 5 seconds then maybe you are the problem. NO, that account is not jelly. and NO that account is not copying jelly. leave them be

i felt tue need to rant about something like this, editblr once was a place where people could just upload cute graphics and others would complimwnt them or something not this toxic hellhole

and i know we always cant have good things but i feel like the place editblr should not be a place where u can upload graphics to get harrassed for free

#sorry for the rant #but honestly i dont really wanna keep this in for too long #its weird how editblr transformed into this mess #editblr #🎒

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imajinxnation · 2 days

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Hello! don john x reader angst where the reader thinks her love is unrequited?

Nighttime Love

Don John x FEM!Reader

SUMMARY // You're visiting your uncle in Messina, and Don John catches your eye. Little do you know, you've caught his too..

TW // Angst, Fluff, Suggestive..

Ugh love this idea..

I made the English a bit more modern, cause God knows how confusing Shakespearian English can be😭😭

Also, thank you @scarlettspectra for letting me use your gif! You're such a sweetheart, I swear!!

Omg I hate this one.. this fucking sucks so bad.. I had so little ideas for this..

"My dear, why would you be in love with a man such as himself? You know what he's done to Hero and Don Pedro.. to everyone!" your uncle whispers, concerned for your feelings.

Currently, you and your uncle are in a stone alleyway, as you had pulled him aside from the market to confess to him your feelings for the quiet, stone faced man known as Don John. You cry and shake your head.

"No, I know, Uncle! But my heart can't help but desire him.." you say, desperately trying to make him understand.

Your uncle sighs and nods in understanding, remembering when he had fell in love with his wife, a similar situation to yours.

"I know, my dear.. but you have to understand, he loves no one, he is a man who only desires one thing.. chaos," your uncle rubs your arms comfortingly.

You let out a shaky breath and let your head fall into your uncle's chest, knowing he was probably right. As you cry into his chest, his hands stroking your hair in comfort, neither of you notice a head peaking around the corner, listening in to your conversation.

Don John leans back on the wall, thinking for a moment before smirking and walking away, a slight bounce in his step. As he passes by the people in the market, they all stare at him, wondering what mischievious plan he would go through with next. With how happy he seemed, he had to be planning something.

And they were right, because the next day, a letter arrived at your uncle's abode, addressed to you. There was a time and a meeting place written on it, and no name.

'Tonight at 8, meet me in the center of the town garden. I'll be waiting.' - It wrote.

Your heart drops to your stomach in both fear and anticipation. You hide the letter from your uncle and go about your day before sneaking out at 8 to meet the mysterious sender.

Your room is on the lower level of the small two storey house, so sneaking out was quite easy, climbing through your window, your night gown nearly dragging on the ground as you run towards the garden bare foot, the cold dirt soft against your feet as the night brings a certain calm and cool.

Once you reach the garden, you stop running and walk through the maze, trying to remember the way to the center of it. You find yourself at a few dead ends before finally making your way to the center of the elaborate hedge maze.

You arrive to see nobody, your brows furrow in confusion and call out, announcing your presence to anyone who may be there.

"Ah.. sweet little (Y/n).. how lovely that you have followed my instructions.." a monotonous voice calls back, coming out from behind a large bush.

His short, black hair shone in the moonlight, along with his deep brown eyes. A smirk played on his bearded lips. It was Don John.

"My Prince.. to what do I owe the pleasure?" You laugh out of nervousness, blushing when you realize you're dressed quite indecently to be in front of a man of such stature, "ah.. forgive me for my indecency.. I came as soon as I could.." you mutter shyly.

Don John lets out a humourless chuckle and walks around you slowly, as if stalking his prey, sizing you up.

"No need to be sorry, sweet flower.. Seeing you like this is quite.. endearing," he smirks.

Your heartbeat quickens, looking anywhere but at him due to fear and embarrassment. You blush and cross your arms, knowing the cool air was most likely revealing your hardened nipples.

"Well? What have you called me for?" You ask, getting flustered and slightly annoyed.

He chuckles once more before coming up behind you, placing his hands on your waist, his lips brushing up against your ear. Chills run down your spine, whether from the wind or his hot breath in your ear, you couldn't tell, but you didn't mind it.

"I heard somewhere that a little lady fancies me.. Is that true, my sweet.. delicate.. flower.." he whispers hotly in your ear, sending a rush of warmth to your lower stomach.

You gulp and blush, unable to deny his words.

"Yes.. it's true.. What of it? It's not like you return those feelings.." you huff out, getting upset at your own thoughts.

"Mm.. and what if I told you those feelings were requited? What would you say? What would you do, little dove?" He nibbles at your ear teasingly.

You gasp and twist your head around so you can see him more out of your peripheral vision. Before you can answer, his lips are devouring yours hungrily, making you squeak and moan in surprise. He groans at your taste, biting your bottom lip sensually, turning you around so the front of your body is fully facing him.

He pulls away and licks your upper lip teasingly before leaning down to whisper in your ear once more.

"You're mine.. You're going to be my sweet princess.." He grins and grips your waist tightly.

What have you gotten yourself into..

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goldenavenger02 · 2 days

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old habits die screaming

There was a time that Kai thought time healed all wounds, but as he was forced to watch Lloyd be haunted by incoherent visions the same way he had been haunted by a vengeful ghost, he was starting to think that time just changed the way wounds looked.

"Stop touching it!" Wyldfyre's yell ricocheted off of the walls of the infirmary as she tried to pull her injured leg away from Kai's prodding hands.

Kai just pulled in another deep breath, his anger threatening to bubble to the surface; he knew by the way she was trying to pull away from him and her shouting was a pain response that was very similar to his own but it wasn't Wyldfyre that he was mad at.

No, his anger was directed at Ras, at the new master of smoke and that weird girl he didn't recognize. There was that small part of him that always blamed the First Spinjitzu Master for starting this entire mess, but he wasn't sure that was where the blame needed to go this time.

This seemed disconnected from Ninjago and much more connected to the Wyldness, a place that no one except for Wyldfyre knew anything about and even then, she only seemed to understand the area of it where she had grown up.

Even if she knew about every inch of the vast expanse, it was not the time to question her about it with just how mangled her leg was.

"I'm trying to help, Wyldfyre," Kai finally responded after another attempt at a kick that had her hissing through clenched teeth, "but Nya, Sora and Frohickey are still working on repairing Zane, so I can't do much."

"You can stop touching it."

Kai let go to turn to the cabinets and grab one of the ice packs, snapping it before handing it to Wyldfyre who instinctively put it against her injured leg, "that's gonna be cold for about half an hour, Zane should be fully repaired by then and he can patch you up."

"You're not staying?"

"You're not the only one who needs to lay down for awhile," his thoughts drifted to Lloyd briefly who had spent the last couple of weeks wandering the monastery in a insomnia induced daze and was more then likely beating himself up somewhere, "and Nya's gonna need an extra set of eyes going through Master Wu's notes to see if we can find anything about Shatterspin or The Forbidden Five. You should get some rest."

"Fine, but I'm not gonna be happy about it."

"I don't expect you to be. I'll be back in a couple of hours, okay?"

She nodded, giving him his chance to go take care of the next item on his list of priorities.

As he went, he couldn't stop his mind from flashing back to The Dark Island, forced to listen as Zane's father did his best to repair Lloyd's broken bones the same way he had repaired the falcon.

How Lloyd hobbled on one foot and still acted as the motivation for the team as they desperately looked for a way to return to and defend Ninjago, even if there were pain lines around his lips with every deep breath he pulled in.

Kai wasn't sure how he expected to find Lloyd after their retreat, but it wasn't opening the door to his bedroom to find him sitting on the end of his bed, hands pressed against his eyes and elbows pressed against his thighs while his shoulders shook.

"Hey, buddy?" He asked, shutting the door as quietly as possible, "are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, yeah," Lloyd's sudden shift as he stood, only stopping to wipe his face on his sleeve before Kai was met with the all too familiar fake smile that he had grown used to seeing, "I'm fine."

"Are you su-"

"How'd Wyldfyre?"

"Her leg is pretty bad, it's gonna take her awhile to heal," he delivered it as straightforward as he could, but when he saw the familiar look of guilt pass over Lloyd's face, he found himself adding, "but if she takes it easy, she should be back on her feet sooner rather than later."

"Did anyone else get hurt?" He refused to meet his eyes as his green-eyed gaze stayed fixed on the wooden floor.

"Nya and Frohickey are repairing Zane, but considering he was saying real words in real sentences, I'm sure it's not gonna take too long. Sora, Riyu and Arin are all in the clear as well, I checked them over myself."

"Good, good…" Lloyd muttered, running a hand through his hair as he moved to the door, but Kai found himself gently clasping his hand around his wrist to look into the all too tired green eyes.

"Are you hurt?"

"I gotta figure out what we're gonna do next, Euphrasia got captured and I think I need to meditate-"

"But are you hurt?"

Kai should have known that the familiar duck of his head in defeat was coming, but Lloyd's response was laced with tears in a way that made his chest burn with more than the underlying anger he had been feeling since they had been defeated.

"I'm not the one everyone should be worried about right now."

"Hate to break it to you, buddy, but we've been worried about you for weeks."

He had said those exact words before, the last time Lloyd was unable to sleep for more than twenty four hours; there was a time that Kai thought time healed all wounds, but as he was forced to watch Lloyd be haunted by incoherent visions the same way he had been haunted by a ghost, he was starting to think that time just changed the way wounds looked.

Lloyd pulled away from Kai's gentle grip on his wrist before turning around and sitting back down on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the edge of the blanket as he spoke, "I'm not hiding it very well, huh?"

"No, you're not," Kai agreed and was met with another sigh, "I think you should let me in on what's going on here, because if it's scaring you this badly…" he trailed off, his mind briefly trailing off to the various villains who had held a vendetta against Lloyd, ones that were arguably worse then Ras even though he had a master of shatterspin on his side.

"It's not Ras that I'm worried about. I've fought worse than Ras, but…" he stopped, his fingers twisting around the blanket, "But in Cloud Kingdom, when he brought out that gong…I have been hearing that noise rattle in my head for weeks and as soon as I heard it, I realized that no matter what I do, I can't stop it. The Blood Moon is coming, Ras has control of Cloud Kingdom and all I did was get Wyldfyre and Zane hurt."

His breath caught in his throat and Kai took a few steps forward before kneeling down on the floor so he and Lloyd were eye to tear-filled eye.

"I know it's nearly impossible to keep you from blaming yourself, especially now that you're taking on so much and with these weird visions, but what happened in Cloud Kingdom was not on you and if we hadn't retreated when we did, things would be a whole lot worse."

"You can thank Nya for that," Lloyd reached up and wiped his face on his sleeve again, "she was the one who told me to retreat."

"I probably should," Kai offered a quick smile before standing, wincing as his knees popped when he did, "ready to tell me how badly you got injured now?"

"It's really not that b-"

"Humor me, Lloyd."

He was met with a sigh before the green fabric covering his left wrist was pulled up to reveal a purply-green mess of bruising.

"It's not broken, I already made sure of that."

"Okay, I'm gonna get you an ice pack," Kai said, patting Lloyd's shoulder a couple times before turning towards the door, "and then you are gonna lay down and do your best to take a nap."

"But the visions-"

"I said "do your best", didn't I?" He watched Lloyd slump in defeat before he reached over and set his hand on his hand back on his shoulder, "I understand that you're scared, but you're wearing thin and if we're gonna stop these guys, we all have to be on our A game."

"I'm really trying."

"I know you are, but you have to get some rest before you break. Okay?"

"Okay."

Lloyd's voice was nothing but a resigned whisper as he maneuvered onto his back and covered his eyes with his right wrist, but as much as he wanted to, Kai couldn't linger on it and settled on running a gentle hand through his hair.

"Be right back with the ice."

The silent thumbs up was his signal to go get the ice and then figure out a way to deal with the anger that was still bubbling up inside of his chest.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #my writing #angst #fic #lloyd garmadon #whump #ninjago kai #dragons rising wyldfyre #dragons rising season 2 #spoilers dragons rising season 2 #nightmares #sleep deprivation #broken bones

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not-poignant · 10 months

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That excerpt got me excited to read the next chapter of UtB! Kadek is a character we didn't get to explore much in FFS so I'm pumped. Question: does Kadek's past actions at the other rehabilitation facility still effect him? Does he see himself as a perpetrator or deal with any self-hatred? Does he suffer from his PTSD or something like second-hand trauma? I know that being violent towards others/hurting others or seeing other people suffer can cause a trauma response. So I'm curious

Hi anon,

A person who can honestly call what they've done 'rape' instead of 'oh I mean technically it was rape and they still wanted it' is definitely in the arena of seeing himself as a perpetrator and still being affected by it. He literally says to Efnisien that he's allowed to think of Kadek as a monster, because Kadek was a monster. He calls the story 'a sad story.' The story is literally in relation to him talking about how fucked up the world is. So a lot of the answers to your question/s are actually in the excerpt that mentions all this stuff in the language Kadek is using.

People who haven't taken responsibility for their actions talk about the act of rape in a very different way. And Kadek will talk more about it and it should become a lot clearer even after those first two paragraphs talking about the story.

(More to follow, also just a correction that it's not at all secondhand trauma to hurt someone else, that is 100% primary trauma).

Also, being a rapist isn't 'secondhand trauma.' It's just straight-up traumatising to many people, and fractures their personality to a degree where they can often no longer confront reality afterwards. It's especially traumatising to people who don't realise they're raping someone (usually due to ignorance / lack of education / misogyny) and then become aware, and then have to deal with the aftermath of that. Intentional rapists experience a different journey to people who really don't think of themselves that way, and then find out they're in the category of rapist anyway, which is what Kadek is.

Accidentally inflicting trauma on someone and realising later is traumatic. It's not 'secondhand trauma' by default (though that can be there too - there's 100% primary trauma). If you hit an animal with your car and kill or hurt it, that's not 'secondhand trauma' because the animal was likely more hurt than you were. That's primary trauma, it often can cause post-trauma and even PTSD. If you hit/injure/kill someone with your car, that's not secondhand trauma, even though the other person died and you still lived, that's a hell of a primary trauma likely compounded with survivor's guilt.

Even Efnisien in Falling Falling Stars doesn't have secondhand trauma from hurting Gwyn. He has primary trauma over it, that's why he has panic attacks when he thinks about hurting people and animals in the future. That's just straight-up PTSD. You may not have read that though, anon! But it's a decent exploration of perpetrator + victim PTSD if I do say so myself. :)

People who learn they have hurt other people or animals, and who didn't want to do that, experience primary trauma if they're genuinely able to comprehend the hurt that they've caused.

So we know from the excerpt that Kadek sees himself as the perpetrator because he calls it rape and calls himself a monster, and talks like someone who has owned the reality of what he's done. When folks use this kind of language (and they're not intentionally being manipulative, and we have no reason to believe Kadek is), it means they're owning responsibility. It is people who defer or refuse to own responsibility who will not see themselves as a perpetrator. These people do not call what they've done rape. In fact they will go out of their way to call it literally anything else.

Generally, a person who calls themselves a monster has experienced some self-hatred over what they've done (Falling Falling Stars actually confronts this too!)

As for everything else, you'll find out in the chapter! :D Kadek's definitely talking about the story of how he found out that what he was doing was bad, so we will get to hear how that happened, and what the aftermath was.

#asks and answers #kadek setiawan #efnisien ap wledig #underline the black #people who can say 'this is rape and i've done this'#are people who see themselves as perpetrators #but yeah i wanted to be clear that is 100% not secondhand trauma #it's just straight up trauma to the people who realise #that's why it's so hard for folks when they hit someone with their car #and people who discover they've sexually assaulted someone #after the fact #often go through a similar process of realisation #it doesn't have to hurt your body to be profoundly traumatising #i'd say kadek more than anyone else at Hillview #knows what the truth of ORFs is really like #but Hillview all along has been very clear that they are places where rape happens #and we know that this is where Kadek comes from #since Gary shares that with Efnisien in an early chapter lkdsfjsa

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americanphancakes · 11 months

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I wanna talk about my mind for a little bit

I was gonna save this until after I posted the last Wingless Angel chapter but I can’t post it yet. Pretty sure my mind wants me to get this out of my system first.

So hi everyone, how are you? How have you been? Honestly if you’re still following at all I’m delighted.

I don’t want this to come across as some excuse for all the unfinished fanfic I left behind 3+ years ago, which is why I wanted to publish WA first, so I hope you don’t take it that way. But I ended up stumbling upon an aspect of my mental health that I’m still trying to address and since I never really saw anyone post or talk about my particular issue before very recently, I wanted to share it in case it resonates with anyone.

(Clearly stuff has changed, this is where I'd normally put a "read more" but.... I guess that's not a thing anymore?? Hopefully this isn't a huge annoying wall of text on everyone's dash, oof.)

I’ve posted before about my ADHD. I’ve been getting treatment for it for 10 years now, and for all that time, medication & other coping mechanisms have been helpful to a point, but only to a point. There was still something left that was keeping me from functioning, and I couldn’t tell what it was. All I knew was that I had no will of my own, and I’d spent the last 10 years trying to create situations where the people in charge were asking (or implying that i should do) things I considered good to do. “People in charge” meant anyone besides myself. If someone was not me, they automatically had authority, simply by virtue of being someone external to me.

I did a lot of research trying to find something that matched up with my experiences & feelings, even partially, and I looked into things like PDA autism and even just the people-pleasing habits common with other ADHD folks.

At some point, with therapy, I did learn how to say “no” to other people’s demands of me. I learned to set boundaries. But I was still profoundly uncomfortable with dictating what I was going to do, especially if anyone else was ever going to be aware of it.

When I was a little kid, i was told “no” constantly, and that’s not hyperbole. I’ve cited the story many times of falling in love with the violin when I was 9 but immediately being told “No, you’re going to play the flute.” So I played the flute, but without any passion for it I couldn’t figure it out and I quit, and my mom never stopped making me feel guilty about it. But that wasn’t the only example of that kind of thing. I wanted to play soccer; mom said play basketball, so I played basketball. I wanted to play piano; mom bought me a guitar and my sister got the electronic keyboard. (We eventually switched, but I never felt like I could fully commit to playing the thing). I wanted to learn Spanish or Japanese in high school; mom told me to learn French, so I took four fucking years of French.

My feelings and wishes were effectively not a factor in what I was allowed to do, what goals I was allowed to pursue, unless I was staying in my room and out of everyone’s way (and even then I had to make sure I jumped up to do what was asked of me if I got called from another room). Eventually I learned, as a survival mechanism, to just obey. It wasn’t worth fighting anymore because I was systematically robbed of my individuality at every turn. Something happened when I was 13 that I will never talk about publicly and she played "good parent who has her kid's back" for about 5 minutes before siding with the bad guy. I brought it up years later and she was mad I'd never gotten over it. And all that is on top of being raised to be a "good little capitalist drone" who needs to be perfect and efficient at all times. I was never supported. I was never given grace. So I never gave grace to myself, because if your own parents don't give you grace & time to learn and be flawed, then clearly you don't deserve any, right?

I finally cut my mother out of my life not long after the pandemic began, a few months after having gone no-contact from my father (mostly due to his casual racism & transphobia, which cost me at least one very close friendship when I was a kid, and was unkind to my child in a way I could not abide). My immediate family - spouse and kid - are the only family I have left now. And it sounds tragic on paper, because it is, but until I finally got away from my mother's voice in real life I couldn't filter through the recordings of her voice in my mind so I could finally throw them away. And that knot is still being untied. Honestly this is 10 years into a very long mental health journey, when you think about it, but I wish I'd cut my mom out of my life a very very long time ago. I wasn't angry about lost time when I got my ADHD diagnosis. I was angry about it when I realized that yes, this had been abuse, and I hadn't been courageous enough to get away from it sooner.

Because that dehumanization resulted in me having no will power of my own, and that extended as far as simply not wanting anything anymore. I like things, sure, but anything I WANTED for myself was out of the question, especially if it involved other people in any way, but honestly even solo pursuits became impossible for me to will myself to do. For right now, when I have something I want to do, I'm telling my friends & husband to order me to do it. Because I won't do it otherwise. And it's a potentially dangerous workaround, but it's all I have for now. I and my therapist are hoping that once my brain registers that what other people are telling me to do is aligned with what I want to do, maybe it won't depend on other people's commands anymore and I'll just take control of my own life for once. But that may not work. I'll have to wait and see.

So what does this have to do with my abandoned fics? Well, it had started to become more difficult to write because the adhd "shinyness" was wearing off anyway, but I'd been doing a good job of pushing past it because people liked what I was writing. I could see my skill getting better, and engagement was going up, and that was really motivating. But then... I stopped writing fic all of a sudden because someone made a post about finding it shitty when writers wrote about COVID in their fics, and.... that was sort of a last straw that broke me, because I do exactly that in the last WA chapter. So I just turned tail and ran away. I tried to push through and write & publish the chapter anyway, because it was the LAST chapter and I knew people were waiting on it, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Even having OSBB obligations didn't get me writing again, and given that obligation, the shame I felt about not having finished those stories weighed on me so badly that I couldn't even interact with you guys on Instagram, despite you having been so kind to me in the past. Let's face it, that goes WAY beyond adhd rejection sensitivity, that's a trauma response. I saw one bit of honestly well-reasoned critique of work that wasn't even mine, and I just ran. Immediately I felt like I was no longer allowed to take up space here. I felt unwelcome here in this corner of the internet world, just as I have always felt like I wasn't allowed to take up space in the physical world for almost my ENTIRE life. And the shame I already feel about myself normally was compounded by what I felt was a cowardly thing to do, which prevented me from returning. Now that I've accepted that, yes, I am an abuse victim whose life has been MASSIVELY and MAJORLY affected by that childhood trauma, I'm finally able to address it properly. Over the last few weeks I've been changing the direction of my therapy and my self-talk (reparenting yourself is HARD) and I'm feeling some improvement, but progress isn't linear so my burst of motivation the other night fizzled out, and I'm genuinely sorry for that.

So... yeah, I'm trying to come back and get those fics finished. I'm grateful for any of you willing to be patient with me. Consciously I KNOW I deserve any support willingly given to me by any of you, but I FEEL like I don't. So yeah. Thanks. <3

#long post #me irl #i'm sure i had a tag for original posts but i dont' know wtf it was #it's been awhile #I'm too damn old to already have so many regrets #i'm mourning a lot of goals i had once that are no longer options #or even things i'm not as interested in doing anymore #like i'm still sad i didn't do them in the first place even tho i don't wanna do them now #but some stuff i really do want to do #and i hope to regrow my childhood will power soon enough that i can do them #cuz yeah there is a proper midlife crisis going on now #i am halfway to death if i'm lucky #and my life has never been my own #so i'm trying to seize it back but it is really hard to do #I feel like tumblr is the only site that would know where this post is coming from #anywhere else i know it'd just be seen as a sob story excuse or something #i mostly just wanted anyone who's been an abuse victim in a similar way to realize that that's what it is #because i resisted accepting it for so long #and it cost me so much time

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brachiosaurus-on · 2 years

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... I have literally never thought of the exact positioning of a Padawan braid before just now. XD But I suddenly am sorely tempted to sketch one in front of the ear because I think it looks nice. And it can still be tucked behind it like regular hair! Compromise?

Ahahaha you come and offer me this compromise not knowing that two days ago I wrote over 1k words describing in detail the process of braiding the padawan braid and designed a padawan comb specifically for the braid and that I spend my showers contemplating the incredible practicality of having the braid drawn from a line above the ear and snugly rooted in place by pulling in the strands slowly like a dutch braid, building to where it hangs from the end of that line at the top back of the ear (not the base of the neck) and is eventually tied off with windings the first of which is approximately one centimeter below the ear lobe.

I will allow such sacrilege but I advise that when your Jedi starts spinning in the wrong direction that braid will not remain tucked behind the ear.

#i felt like evil intense lighting slowly grew around me as i was writing this #I'm friendly I PROMISE #i apologize friend. our first interaction and you have discovered I'm insane #i usually save that for interaction number seven at least #I wear similar types of braids in the summer but they're a little wider and I stack three of them on top of each other #and they're practical as fuck #I have also done the braid in front of the ear when bored and it is decidedly less practical and much more difficult to keep tight #and the way it hangs makes you very aware of it #whereas the others are easy to forget about because you hardly notice them at all #and they can stay in for DAYS #but i also have a scene in another fic where one knight tells another that they can't just fake a padawan braid #and the response is along the lines of:#''who's going to notice that it's braided incorrectly?''#''what are they going to do? tell me it's wrong? claim I'm not a padawan? I have a lightsaber. the only person who will notice is you''#i have no idea if that is funny to anyone else but i love jedi mocking each other over very specifically jedi things #it just brings me joy okay #anyways yes sketch your braid and I would love to see it when you're done :D #perhaps your jedi made practical sacrifices for the sake of aesthetics which is extremely valid because I also do that #also if your jedi would like for the braid to remain tucked behind the ear I suggest pinning it in place #padawan braids #jedi culture #jedi #brachio answers

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blumineck · 4 months

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Your videos are so awesome! Question about pole dancing:

I'm a trans man, and before I transitioned I did some aerial silks and trapeze at a school near where I lived. Then I transitioned, moved, and after a few years have wanted to get back into something similar. There are plenty of pole places around my house, but they're heavily oriented towards women. One's even marketed for ONLY women. I feel really weird about trying to attend classes as a man. Any advice?

OK, this is a tricky one. As this is anon, I need to post publicly, so here's some context for passers-by:

Pole dance is a heavily female-dominated activity, and because it's also frequently sexualised (either by design or by association), and requires fairly revealing clothing, many women feel less comfortable in classes with men. Some studios might then attempt to foster a safer environment by excluding men altogether (and even if they don't, the vast majority of students are usually female anyway, so pictures on the website, etc rarely feature men even if there's no actual policy).

And I GET all that. But also, I feel like it's ok for men to want to do pole too. I was literally drawn to pole in the first place BECAUSE it defied traditional gender expectations. So here's my advice, to you and any other men who might want to start:

1) Ask. Drop the studio an email, see if they take male students. The way they respond will tell you a lot about whether this will be a safe/welcoming space for you. It might feel weird and scary, but they don't know you yet, and if their answer is off-putting, they never have to!

2) Be prepared to be in a minority. Even if the studio is welcoming, you are unlikely to be in a class with more than 1 or 2 other men (at most!) and reasonably likely to be the only one. You may find different moves easy/hard, and you may find it takes a little longer for other students to relax/open up around you. This can be hard for some men who aren't used to that dynamic, but it /is/ a predominantly feminine space, so it's worth being thoughtful in how you approach things.

I'm not saying this to put you or anyone else off! IME most studios are happy to take male students, and most students are reasonably open and welcoming, and once you get settled, you can have a lot of fun and make lots of friends. As long as you check in and make an effort, I absolutely recommend giving it a go!

#pole dance #advice #this is based on personal experience and some trial and error #it's not to be taken as some kind of difinitive rule set or anything

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hazyhae · 2 months

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indica dreams | ldh

plug!hyuck x fem!reader ft. bestie jeno and cousin johnny

summary: when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it.

wc: 11.7k 18+ mdni

cw: fluff, mild angst, smut, weed/marijuana use in multiple forms, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it up!), creampie, oral (receiving), flirty down bad soft dom!hyuck who's highkey a simp, dirty talk + voice/praise kink, reader has sleep problems and is a chronic overthinker, reader has a bad trip on weed, tender loving and reassurance, baby/sunshine/my girl as petnames

you turn over in your bed for what feels like the hundredth time, eyes shut tight as you groan in frustration. you open your eyes and feel around for your phone, blinding yourself once the screen faces you. 4:23 a.m. great.

when your alarm set for work blares just a few hours later, you feel as though you shut your eyes for only a few minutes, reluctantly getting up to start your day.

this has been happening for a while now — maybe 1 or 2 months? you’re not sure when exactly it started, but you know the stress from work has been affecting your sleep schedule terribly.

you’ve tried melatonin — huge headache the morning after. other methods you tried led to something similar or didn’t work at all, and it frustrates you to no end. after another day of fighting to stay awake at work passes by painfully slow, you sit on your bed brainstorming with your best friend over the phone.

“i think we’ve gotta do something about the stress, then maybe the sleep will come with it?” jeno’s voice rings through the speaker. you can tell he’s just waking up, evident in his low voice and delayed responses.

“like what? quit my job?” you ask sarcastically. “you know i can’t do that.”

“i know, not that.” you can almost hear him shrug. jeno never has any problems sleeping, being able to sleep through the night and even take a nap or two throughout the day with his work from home job.

a lightbulb seems to flash in his head as he lets out a small gasp. “wait,” his voice sounds closer to the phone speaker, and a few seconds later, your phone buzzes with a new message.

6:06pm jenjen: dongfuck 010-xxxx-xxxx

“dongfuck?? who the hell is that?” you ask, confused and almost slightly irritated.

“oh shit, i forgot it sends the contact name and everything,” jeno laughs. “anyways, i think the answer to your problems is some good old weed.”

you pause. it’s not as if that never crossed your mind, in fact it has even before your sleep problem came about.

you never entertained the interest as no one in your friend circle knew enough about weed for you to feel comfortable trying it for the first time and you haven’t had the energy to go out as much, giving you no chance to meet someone who does.

“i could be down? but what do you know about weed, lee jeno?” you ask your friend suspiciously.

“no, not me,” you hear him tap on the phone for emphasis. “that’s where my buddy dongfuck comes in.”

you don’t know why, but your gut feeling tells you that you might be in for more than just a good night’s sleep.

lee donghyuck

the new contact in your phone apparently belonged to the resident stoner of his friend group who hustles as a local plug, and while jeno had his thoughts about the guy, quoting pain in the ass and corny flirt, he couldn’t deny that he knows more about weed than anyone he’s ever met. and as much as jeno talks shit, you know how he’d be if he actually hated the guy.

you had texted the new number nervously, asking if he could give you the basics on getting high, and he had responded with “it’s too much to text” and an address. jeno trusted the guy, so you did your best to brush aside your nerves.

it’s your saturday off when you arrive at the address he sent, triple checking that you are at the right place. your gps leads you to a building that looks like a 2-story house. it’s so lowkey that you probably would have walked right past it if you weren’t looking for it, but upon closer inspection it has a very minimal but aesthetic exterior, with vines running alongside the house’s entrance.

“NCTeaHouse” a sign reads right above the door, and you peek inside the small window in the door to see the interior. your mouth forms an o as you realize the house is in fact a store.

the front door opens suddenly, almost hitting you in the face as you step back in surprise. a dark haired man with rounded glasses peeks his head out from behind the door.

“oops, my bad. __ right?” he asks, a little unsure.

“yeah, and you’re donghyuck?” you ask, taking in the man who looks to be around the same age as you.

“just hyuck is okay, come on in!” he says cheerfully, opening the door fully. “i was wondering when you were gonna come in, saw you wandering around the entrance for a good 5 minutes,” he chuckles.

your face gets hot at the knowledge that he saw you like that. “i was making sure it was the right place, okay?”

he hums and leads you in, and you take in the view of the shop around you. it’s tiny, but warmly decorated, browns and earth tones dominating the space with boxes lined along the shelves and few displays in the middle of the shop. he goes behind the front counter, bent down as he rummages through a box.

you take a look at products at the register, finding that they are different tea bags. glancing back at the displays, you recognize the other boxes to also be different tea brands, and some other products you don’t recognize.

“is this where you sell?” you ask, seeing that he’s still looking for something.

“oh no, not here, this is my side job. we sell tea, coffee, and some other stuff.” he gets up with a smaller box in hand, leaving the register as he beckons you to a back room. “but it’s my cousin’s shop, i just help here when i can.”

the back room is also warmly decorated, simple with 2 couch chairs, a table with a coffee maker, and a tiny fridge with a small burner on top.

“you can sit in one of those chairs, do you want some tea?” he asks. you decline politely and sit as he places a kettle on the small burner, turning it on before sitting on the other chair.

“aren’t you working right now? i don’t want to take up too much of your time,” you ask worriedly, not expecting the address he sent to be his workplace. he shakes his head.

“nah, trust me, we barely get any customers, and if they do they’ll ring the bell out front,” he says, waving his hand. “anyways, jen told me you wanted to learn about weed? what do you want to know?”

you feel your face get hot again. you know quite literally nothing about weed, and to admit that to a friend of a friend is a little embarrassing. but again, if jeno trusts him, so do you.

“to be completely honest.. i know nothing about it. i just know i have trouble sleeping at night and jeno suggested it might help,” you tell him.

“so just for sleep?” he asks.

“well, yes.. and no,” you start. you finally have the opportunity to learn the ropes from someone who actually knows what they were doing, but would he be down knowing you were starting from ground zero? he peers at you, noting that your expression looks a little conflicted.

“hey, no need to feel shy about it. everyone has to start somewhere,” he assures.

his words have more of an effect on you than you would expect, feeling touched at the reassurance of someone you barely know. it’s crazy how one sentence can have you feeling like you can trust him with whatever, but you nod in response.

“i think.. i’d like to learn at least the basics about weed, or even more if you’re willing? i’ve always been interested but never had the chance to explore it, but something tells me that’s what you’re all about,” you let your inner thoughts spill. he noticeably lights up at your words.

“and you’re absolutely right! trust me, as long as you’re willing to learn, i’m more than willing to teach,” he chimes, excited for someone who could potentially be as into weed as he is.

like you, none of his close friends really indulge in the substance, and it’s not like he can smoke on the regular with his customers, so he feels genuine excitement at the prospect of a weed buddy.

the sight of his lit up face at your curiosity really reassures your decision to trust jeno’s recommendation. as if on cue, his kettle starts whistling and he gets up to turn off the burner.

you watch as he pours the water into a mug he had set to the side. your eyes trail over his outfit: a comfortable looking brown hoodie paired with some ripped jeans that hug his long legs just right.

your eyes move back up to his face, only to see him staring back at you with an eyebrow raised.

“like what you see?” he asks with a teasing grin. you groan to hide your embarrassment, now seeing what jeno meant when he called him a corny flirt. but you really were checking him out, so you quickly try to come up with an excuse.

“i’m just thinking you don’t really look like you’d be a plug,” you redirect. he shakes his head.

“and what do you think a plug should look like?” he asks, face the tiniest bit more serious. the question surprises you.

“i guess, a little scarier?” you say quietly. you do imagine a plug being that way — quiet, intimidating, maybe a few tattoos. definitely not the man in front of you with his big brown eyes behind a pair of silver framed glasses, fluffy hair and even fluffier hoodie. he laughs at your answer.

“and that is where you are wrong,” he tuts at you, waving a finger. “stoners come in all shapes and sizes, and this plug of yours just happens to be incredibly charming and handsome.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you can’t hold back your laughter.

aside from the last part, his words ring true, and you feel a little silly at your preconceived notion. one of the main things that has stuck out from him so far is his lack of judgement, and it’s something you admire. maybe this really is a good thing for you.

“anyways, when are we gonna start these lessons?” you ask, returning to your original goal.

“we can start now if you’ve got time,” he smiles, taking a sip of his tea. you check your phone, noting that not too long has passed since you arrived. you don’t have any plans besides trying to catch up on sleep, but you know that will probably be futile. why not?

“i’ve got time,” you let him know, and he meets you with a bright smile. he gets you some water, telling you to get comfy for his “weed 101” course.

“so let’s start with sativa vs. indica.” he types something in his phone, pulling up a slideshow. “all weed will fall into one of these two, or a combination of some sort.”

“you didn’t have to make an entire presentation??” you gasp. he must really be that eager to teach you.

“just let it happen, trust the process,” he insists. “anyways, you’ve got that sleeping problem, so anything indica would be your best friend,” he explains, showing you different examples on his phone.

“and what about sativa?” you ask, and he grins.

“that, my friend, is what you smoke when you want to have fun.”

you quickly realize that there is so much more to weed than you initially thought.

he jumps from topic to topic on different strains, smoking vs. edibles, joints vs. blunts, pipes vs. bongs — it was a lot. your head spins as you try to recall all the information he’s given you, and he takes notice at the shift in your demeanor, even if you try to feign the same eagerness you had coming into it.

“is it too much? we can take it slower, break it into sessions maybe,” he offers. you’re really wowed at how down he actually is to do this, and if you’re being completely honest, hanging out with an attractive guy while learning about and potentially indulging in some weed plus hopefully getting a good night’s sleep out of it? it sounds too good to be true.

“won’t that be taking too much of your time?” you ask worriedly.

“i’m true to my word, as long as you’re willing to learn, sunshine, i’m all yours,” he says, mouth pulled into his same grin as he downs the last bit of his tea, probably cold now after hours of talking. “plus the next few times you come, i’ll bring my stuff so you can try it out.”

you know you aren’t immune to his charms, and your face warms at the affectionate words. despite the corniness jeno complained about, hyuck had a way of keeping you on your toes while giving you an odd feeling of ease.

“i think i’d like that a lot, thank you hyuck,” you beam. an alarm on his phone rings, and his eyes widen.

“it’s already time to close? time flies,” he says getting up from the seat to start closing up shop. you get up too, ready to head home. “wait,” his voice halts you.

“are you hungry?” he asks a little timidly, a stark contrast for how casual he’s been this entire time.

you’ve been there for a while, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starving at that point. “yeah definitely, my last meal was breakfast,” you recall.

“okay sit tight, then. dinner’s on me, let me close up really quick,” he smiles, and before you can protest, he’s rushing through the break room door. a smile rests on your own face. you pull out your phone to check the time, seeing messages from jeno.

4:29pm jenjen: u ok? he didn’t eat you did he

5:50pm jenjen: dude wait are u ok neither of you are responding to me 5:50pm jenjen: don’t replace me ):

7:15pm you: stop you big baby we were just having a good conversation 7:16pm you: ngl i’m glad you introduced us, i have a good feeling about this jen (:

even after you insist you pay for your own and treat him as thanks for his lessons, hyuck stubbornly refuses and pays for the entire dinner bill. as he pulls up to your apartment to drop you off at home, he places a box in your lap before you exit his car.

“tea?” you ask, eyeing the box. reaching over to your lap again he taps on the box, punctuating his words.

“this right here is something i mixed up a while ago. i’m not the biggest edible person, so when i don’t feel like smoking, i’ll drink some of this. there’s barely any weed in it, but steep it for like a minute and try some an hour or two before you sleep.”

he looks incredibly proud of his own creation, but you’re a bit conflicted. it’s difficult to meet his energy when you’re nervous at the thought of trying weed for the first time on your own.

you don’t voice your nerves, not wanting to dampen his excitement. he’s already given you a lot and you just met the guy.

“thank you hyuck, i appreciate it.” you open his car door, getting down with the box in hand. “see you next week?”

“no problem at all, try that and let me know how it goes okay? i’m kinda not the biggest texter, so call for anything,” he says softly. “i’ll see you next week, sunshine.”

with the nickname sending a buzz through you, you close his car door, padding up to the front of your apartment complex before turning to wave. he waves back, flashing his headlights, and he doesn’t leave until you’re completely inside.

you go into your kitchen, placing the box on your counter. you open it, pulling out a paper accompanied by little tied sachets containing an assortment of dried leaves.

steep for two minutes with boiling water, can steep longer if you want a stronger tea.

-h

you smile to yourself. lifting a sachet to your nose, you note that it smells like a regular bag of tea. he did say there was barely any weed in there, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try?

you double back on that thought. you really don’t know how you’re gonna react to it, and the anxieties crawl back up your throat. what if it doesn’t turn out well, and you’re all by yourself with no way of getting the substance out of you?

you don’t want to risk it. you put the contents back in the box and place it in one of your cabinets. maybe you’ll invite jeno over to try it with you so at least you’d have someone with you if it all goes wrong.

you get ready for bed, hoping that the night brings you even a little sleep.

your hopes are unfounded when you wake up to a call from your manager, begging you to come into work to help fix an urgent problem. she promises you double pay and breakfast, and reluctantly, you accept.

you head to work with only the idea of some extra money in your pocket keeping you going, but you know already the second you step foot into your work building that you will be fighting for your life for the next few hours.

by the time the sun has set, you’re dragging yourself through your apartment door, wanting nothing more than to sleep for the next 24 hours. you change out of your work clothes, hopping straight into bed and closing your eyes in hopes that sleep will take you.

when your eyes open an hour later, frustration bubbling at your throat from an hour of tossing and turning despite your utter exhaustion, you rip your sheets off, heading to your kitchen.

you open a cabinet, taking out a familiar little box. you’re willing to give this a try — anything to get some good sleep. but anxieties still run through you as you take out your phone to text your best friend.

8:35pm you: jen wyd?

you wait for a few minutes staring tiredly at your phone until a message pops up.

8:41pm jenjen: out with jaem what’s up?

you sigh, letting your friend know to forget it, and open the box. there sits a familiar note, and you trace over the neat handwritng.

call for anything. hyuck’s words ring in your ears. before you know it, you’re moving on autopilot and repeated ringing sounds through your speaker, his name displayed on the screen.

rrrring. rrrring. with every ring you feel more anxious, debating on just hanging up and resorting to melatonin, and when it reaches his voicemail, your heart sinks.

you end the call, placing your phone in your pocket and deciding to look for your forgotten sleep supplements. you don’t even take more than a couple of steps when your phone starts buzzing. you answer without even checking the id.

“__? what’s up?” his voice rings through the speakers and relief floods your system.

“hyuck, sorry to bother, but are you busy right now?” you ask.

“free for you, and not a bother, don’t apologize,” he says, and you can hear the smile on his voice. your cheeks twitch into a slight smile at his sweet words, but the tiredness seeps into your words.

“i’m gonna try your tea.. i’m so exhausted and i can’t sleep but i’m just so nervous about trying this by myself — oh and i called jeno but he’s busy — i’m sorry i ju-” your sleepy spiel is interrupted by his voice.

“woah, woah, sunshine, let’s slow it down a bit. no need to apologize for anything, really,” he assures.

you feel as though you could cry from the combination of relief and sheer exhaustion, now a little calmer explaining your circumstances and nerves at your first time having any sort of weed.

“hey, go ahead and try it, and i’ll stay on the phone until you fall asleep, okay? you can tell me if you’re feeling bad or weird or anything and i’ll be right here.”

“promise?” you ask hopefully. it’s not ideal to be asking someone you’ve known for literally a day to stay on the phone with you, but your tired mind and body scream sleep over shame.

he laughs. “you’re so cute, yes i promise.” you try not to show how much of an effect his words have on you, masking your stirring feelings by warming some water.

in the next 20 minutes, you’re sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea, taking small sips and letting the aroma waft as you chat over the phone. he’s right, the tea tastes nothing like the pungent scent of weed you are familiar with. his tea is calming and herbal.

“tell me about your day,” he requests, and you start from the call from your manager in the morning, explaining how some intern almost cost your company a client under your project, and you had to save their ass.

“you’re too good for them,” he says smugly.

“you’re just saying that, but thank you,” you reply, and he denies it, whining slightly.

“i would never say anything i don’t mean,” he asserts. he acts offended that you would even insinuate he was only flattering you, and you try not to read too much into his words, now halfway through your cup of tea.

“how about you tell me about your day, hyuck?” you ask, changing the subject.

he’s happy to talk about his day, lamenting spending his entire weekend at the shop, but explains how there were a group of unique customers today.

“this guy came in with a few friends, asking us if we have anything that could calm animals?? i honestly don’t know shit about pets but i don’t think tea and coffee are safe.” you chuckle at his animated telling of the story. “he had reeaaally nice eyebrows, though.”

your cup now sits empty on your nightstand, your head resting heavily on your pillow as you listen to him. he’s so expressive, and you hum in response to his ramblings. you have no thoughts besides how pleasing his voice is to your ears.

your eyes feel heavier and heavier as his voice sounds more and more distant.

when you wake up to your alarm set for work chiming the next morning, you feel the most rested you have in months. checking your phone, you see a missed message notification.

10:48pm hyuck =) : sleep tight, sunshine

a while has passed since your first go at the tea, and it’s three weeks until you are able to see hyuck again. at the beginning of those three weeks, you found that every couple of days hyuck would call, checking in on you. the first few calls never lasted as long as your first did, but soon you found yourself wanting to hear more of his voice.

you started to ask him how his day was before he could hang up, and after a few times of sharing back and forth, nightly calls to talk about your days became a routine.

in all honesty, you wanted to see him sooner, but the work days kicked your ass and different friends made plans on your days off. despite the chaos in other parts of your life, it felt like your nightly calls were what got you through the tiring days.

you were almost out of tea, and resorted to having the tea every other day to save. something must have shifted when you met hyuck, as even without the tea, sleep came much easier with the exception of a few days.

when you call hyuck on a friday night after work, hoping to restock and spend some time with him over the weekend, he meets your request with enthusiasm.

“didn’t realize you missed my lessons so much, my #1 student,” his teasing rings over the speakers.

“actually, youtube is sounding really good right about now,” you reply, putting up a flat tone at his remarks.

“i’m kiddinggggg jeez, come to the shop around 6 tomorrow? dress warm, we’ll try something new,” he instructs, and you agree.

sitting in your living room, you take a sip of the usual tea, noting that you’re down to your last bag. you drift off to sleep that night, and instead of the anxieties you had felt the night before the first time you met him, excitement floods your system at the thought of seeing him.

the next day’s lesson brings you to a new location, still NCTeaHouse, but the cozy back patio behind the store. strung up hanging lights are already lit, given how the sun has started to set, and the lounge couch makes it look like an ideal hangout spot.

“if you see me napping back here one of these days, you better not say anything,” you joke with hyuck.

“you’re always free to, as long as i’m invited,” he winks and you’re shaking your head at his unabashed self. you’ve gotten a lot more used to his flirty words, coming to expect at least a line or two during your nightly conversations.

“anyways, you’re probably wondering why we came out here tonight.” you nod, and he lays the contents of his pockets on the small table in front of the two of you.

“i thought we could try smoking today, if you’re comfortable,” he grins, arranging everything on the table, and you’re impressed by the assortment.

he’s got different bags of weed, wrapping papers, lighters, and little tins. he gets right into explaining, pulling out the contents of the tins. he holds up two rolls, one a little thicker than the other.

“this right here is a joint, it’s just weed. this thicker one is a blunt. it’s got nicotine in the paper so the high is a little different.” he hands them to you to look at and continues. “i prefer blunts, but depending on what you put in them, a regular joint would probably be better for someone who hasn’t smoked before.”

you never doubted jeno’s words, but hyuck really is living up to your friend’s praise of his weed knowledge. you nod in understanding at his clear explanations, handing them both back to him. he sets aside the joint and starts to put away the blunt until you stop him.

“let’s do the blunt,” you quickly interject. despite wanting to go with the more beginner-friendly option, something in you wanted to do what he liked. maybe that way you could get a little taste of his world.

“wait, are you sure? it might be a bit harsh,” he warns.

“trust me, i can take it,” you say stubbornly. he pauses almost unnoticeably with an unreadable expression at your words before it shifts into a dubious look.

“if you say soooo,” he teases. you slap his arm lightly, huffing as he laughs before getting up to grab some water before you begin. he settles back into the couch once he’s back. he picks out a blunt and his lighter, turning to you with a more serious expression.

“this high will probably feel a bit more intense than anything the tea could do, so just take it easy okay? if you start feeling bad, please tell me,” he emphasizes. “promise?” he holds out his pinky.

you nod, linking your own pinky around his. he tightens the hold and you feel your heart tighten a bit in turn. the emotions whirling in you are too complex to decipher, ranging from slight anxiety at the thought of actually being high to gratitude for hyuck’s reassurance.

“just watch, okay?” he places the blunt between his lips, lighter flicking at its edge as he inhales for a few seconds. he holds the smoke in, rotating the blunt a few times before straining his neck up to exhale a hefty cloud of smoke.

the sight leaves you breathless. hyuck is attractive, and of that you have been sure since the day you met.

but this hyuck, sitting next to you in his black leather jacket and dark jeans on the baggier side stirs something inside of you. it’s just one hit, but you’re outright entranced by his movements. he brings the blunt back to his mouth for another hit, and flicks it on an ash tray sitting on the table as he holds in the smoke.

your eyes don’t leave his hands, adorned in a few simple rings as he moves as if it’s just muscle memory, smooth and rehearsed. he again lifts his head to release the smoke, and this time you can see a vein that trails down his thick neck as it comes into full view.

what is likely not even half a minute feels like an eternity to you, and it takes a couple calls of your name to snap you out of your trance.

“earth to __? wanna try now?” hyuck waves his hand in front of you, offering the freshly ashed blunt.

“just a couple seconds, and not too strong of a pull. hold it in for a few seconds before releasing the smoke,” he instructs as you pick it out of his grasp. you nod, bringing it to your mouth.

you do as he says, pulling only for a few seconds before passing it back to him, intending to hold the smoke in. you don’t get to that point though, for as soon as the two second mark hits, your throat constricts as you involuntarily cough up the smoke you pulled from the blunt.

curses leave hyuck’s mouth as he quickly puts out the blunt, scrambling to hand you the water he brought earlier. you take it quickly, letting the water soothe your throat as you continue coughing between sips.

“are you okay?” he asks, worried expression on his face.

“i-i’m good, i thought i was gonna do better than that for my first one though,” you admit sheepishly.

“hey, we’ve got a lot of time to practice,” he reassures.

you’re not sure if the weed is already hitting you, but the warm hanging lights seem to illuminate his face even more. his fingers play with a silver chain laying on his white shirt.

“do you want to try another? or are you good?” he asks, peering into your face to check for any signs of dicomfort.

“i’ll try one more time,” you resolve, and he grins, firing the lighter back up. he holds the blunt up in front of you, and your hand moves to grab it, but he doesn’t let go, keeping it steady in front of your mouth.

“go for it, sunshine,” he gives you the go ahead, still holding it for you as your mind screams at the intimacy. you lean forward a bit to take a small hit of the blunt, trying to ignore his eyes burning into you. you make sure to inhale a little less than the first time.

“goood, just like that, now hold it in for a bit.”

you lean back into the chair as hyuck brings the blunt to his own lips, taking a drag out of it as he watches you carefully. this time, your throat doesn’t constrict, and you blow the smoke upwards emulating his earlier movements.

“that’s my girl,” he praises, smile stretched wide. you were doing so well, but his praise catches you at the very last bit of smoke leaving your throat, causing a hitch in your throat as you lightly cough.

he hands you the water again, patting your back as you curse under your breath.

“don’t worry, it’s still your first time, and i’ve heard coughing after smoking gets you even higher,” he coos, pats turning into gentle circles on your back.

you feel hyperaware of his touch, but when his hand separates from your form a piece of you longs to have it back. you glance at him as he takes another hit. you might not necessarily know what feeling high feels like yet, but whatever you’re feeling right now might just be it.

the anxiety and gratitude you felt coming into the smoke session has melted into something else — a desire of some sort that you can’t put your finger on. you know that’s not from the substance now in your system.

all you know is that the fuzzy feeling in your body and mind along with the dark-haired man next to you is something you could get used to.

after that day, something definitely shifted. you see hyuck a lot more, and every time he comes more than excited to teach you something new.

the next time you see him it’s pipes. he came prepared with two — one for you and him, and sent you home with the one you were using once you got the hang of it, insisting it liked you better.

another time is bongs. this one was pretty hard for you to get a hang of, and his hands guided yours on how to hold the bong and when to take out the bowl. it was hard to stay focused on the steps with his casual physical contact, so you’d have to revisit that.

one of the days, he even brings his dab rig set up to show you. you were completely lost with this one, and he didn’t force it, just assuring you that you could always come to him and he’d have it all ready and set for you.

he takes pride in showing you his creations, and is always quick to affirm you as you learn. while he never explicitly said he was doing it, you could tell after the first time you smoked that he wanted to find ways to make smoking a little easier on you.

you recall a specific day you came over to the shop, promised the “hyuckie special” by its namesake over the phone the night before. you were surprised to see someone other than hyuck in the shop once you arrived, especially since it was after hours.

“are you the one donghyuck’s been bringing around here?” a tall man with ashy brown hair tucked behind his ears stood behind the counter. he was really handsome, but also slightly intimidating. the tattoos on his exposed arms reminded you of your initial idea of what a plug looked like.

you muttered a timid yes as you approached the man. he definitely looked a little older than you and hyuck.

“johnny, i’m the owner of your little love nest,” he joked, hand reached out to shake yours.

you shook his hand, introducing yourself as you tried to tell him you’re just friends. before you could, hyuck busted through the front door, eyes going to your joined hands.

he stomped up to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you stepped back from the counter.

“what are we talking about?” he asked, pointed look at johnny. johnny just laughed loudly, clutching his stomach as you stood there, confused.

“relax lover boy,” he regained composure, turning to you. “thanks for keeping him busy, i should’ve known something was up when he stopped texting me every week whining about the shop.”

hyuck’s hand tightened around your shoulder, and he started tugging you around the back.

“don’t listen to him, bye,” he called not even looking back. johnny just waved, trying to keep down another laugh at his cousin’s erratic behavior.

“bye, __, see you around!” he waved, you returning it as best you could as hyuck pushed you through the door. as soon as you reached the back patio, a sulky hyuck started grumbling.

“you won’t be seeing him, he’s barely at his own shop anyways.” he plopped down on the couch, emptying his pockets as usual.

a lilac colored tin stuck out among his materials, and you picked it up to see what it was. his familiar neat handwriting spelled out your name.

“made that one for you, think you’d really like it,” he noticed you observing it, sulkiness gone.

a floral, herbal scent wafted to your senses once you opened it, and inside you saw a few joints.

“that’s the hyuckie special — or should i say the __ special?” he pondered, taking them from you to show them off. “i know you secretly prefer joints so don’t argue with me, but this one is a custom blend of a hybrid strain and dried lavender, you know, for your sleeping problem.”

you didn’t know what to say besides thank you over and over, touched at his consideration and the fact that he made a blend just for you. only for you.

from then on, that special blend quickly became your favorite as it really did help you relax a bit more. he would have his blunts of choice while you settled on the special formula made just for you.

your time with hyuck definitely shifted, but it wasn’t the only thing — something in you shifted as well.

that desire you felt that first night you smoked only burns brighter and hotter — the phone calls aren’t ever enough anymore, you need to see him, to be with him. even with a busy schedule with work and other friends, you make time, because being with him feels like nothing you have ever felt before.

somewhere along the routine of monotony in your life, maybe you subconsciously pushed yourself to the back of your priorities. but with hyuck, the way he takes care of you just makes you feel so prioritized, so seen.

he remembers your favorites and preferences even if mentioned only in passing, teases you with inside jokes only he could know, follows up on any gossip or worries you share, picks you up and drops you off at home, and never lets you pay for anything — food or weed alike.

you’ve never had an easier time falling asleep, with or without weed, and you can only assume that this connection with hyuck gave you a way of navigating the anxieties and negative feelings that plagued you. he felt like your person.

you could swear jeno’s eyes could fall out of his head from how wide-eyed he stares at you as you tell him all of this, from the generous lessons to the custom blend to your complex feelings growing by the day.

“you better not tell him any of this,” you warn, but jeno’s expression is still in shock. “what is it?”

“are you sure we’re talking about the same guy? hyuck? like lee donghyuck??” jeno asks in disbelief.

“yes?? who else would i be talking about?” you’re confused by your best friend’s reaction.

“no fucking way, because the hyuck i know would never do any of that. i don’t even think he knows when my birthday is,” he says.

“to be fair, i don’t think he knows when mine is either?” you offer. jeno looks straight into your eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“no i mean to say — he doesn’t pay anyone that much attention, even his friends, and i know he’d never willingly shell out his weed money, let alone every single time you’re together,” he explains. “i thought the weed lesson was gonna be a one- or two-time thing, not a whole series.”

you didn’t think so either. the time you spend together isn’t even lesson-like anymore, with it just being smoke or tea sessions with endless conversation. there’s no clear definitions, but you know you need to ask jeno’s opinion.

“do you think he likes me? like likes me?” you ask your best friend. it feels silly to ask like that, to have feelings that makes you unable to think of anyone else.

but you ask even though you think you know. you’d be blind to not notice his actions, the look in his eyes, and johnny’s insinuations. jeno’s surprise at his special treatment of you is just further confirmation.

“honestly, in my eyes he’s down bad, but do you like him?” jeno asks, unsure if he’s liking where your conversation is going.

you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t. somewhere along the course of this whole thing, that desire that planted the first time you ever met him grew every time afterward and bloomed into something you could no longer contain.

you never tried to deny it, but you’re realizing this is your first time actually admitting it. you look down, suddenly shy under the focused gaze of your best friend.

“jen, i do. i really do like him,” you confess, entire body warming at the quiet declaration.

jeno’s quiet for a second before letting out a groan in response. you look up to see him with a hand over his face.

“what’s wrong?” you’re slightly offended at that response, but jeno just shakes his head.

“nothing, just always knew he was a corny flirt, just never thought you’d eat that up,” he muses. “he’s annoying, but he’s not a bad guy.”

“should i tell him?” you ask, hoping for advice. jeno shrugs.

“that’s up to you, i don’t know what your relationship with him looks like besides what you’ve told me,” he replies, not giving you an answer you so desperately want. “what i do know is i’ll kick his ass if he ever hurts you, and you can never replace me. got it?”

you lunge at your best friend, squeezing him affectionately and barraging him with promises of unchanging friendship.

you sit at your dining table reading the label of a little bag.

“a friend left this at mine the other day and told me to keep it, but i don’t fuck with weed so you can have it, little miss stoner,” jeno had said, giving you a bag of gummy edibles before dropping you off at home after dinner.

you thanked him for it at the time, taking it with you inside. edibles are the form of weed you are least experienced with. hyuck had explained them briefly, but you’ve never done them with him since he doesn’t really like them too much. he reasoned that smoking helps him control his intake better.

you’re feeling a little daring tonight, however. you have a lot more experience with weed now, and your tolerance has definitely risen.

though you’re a little nervous about trying them without hyuck, it’s too late to call and you feel a bit more confident at your weed capabilities. the you from the beginning of this weed journey would be surprised at how much you’ve changed.

it’s just a little gummy, how bad could it be? plus you have the next day off, kicking that worry. you pull out a single pineapple gummy, splitting it into halves before eating one. you settle into your couch, turning on your tv to let the edible kick in.

when an hour passes and you still don’t feel anything, you’re confused. you look up how long it takes for an edible to hit and check the package for an expiration date, but everything seems fine. has your tolerance risen that much?

you pick up the other half of the gummy, looking at it carefully before deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more. the dosage per piece is not anything concerning, so you eat the other half without thinking too much.

when your eyes start to blur in the next 5 minutes, you know you’ve made a mistake.

you’re glued to your couch, staring at the ceiling as the high runs through your body, feeling a slight tingle from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, coming and going in intense waves. your thoughts race, and 99% of your thoughts are consumed by hyuck, hyuck, and hyuck. **

an uncertain amount of time has passed, your phone forgotten somewhere in your apartment, but you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of a million thoughts turning into no thoughts at all, all while your body is experiencing such a new, yet heavy feeling.

the smoking high is definitely different from this edible high, and you start to understand why hyuck prefers the former.

you don’t feel like you’re in control of yourself at all, and the feeling is entirely too overwhelming. the second half of that edible hits, with the high intensifying and your thoughts jumping yet again.

a feeling of dread runs through you.

you had been doing well keeping a general positive/neutral train of thought on that first half of the edible, but the second a single negative thought hits you, you find yourself unable to stop the spiral.

why did you do this to yourself? don’t you need to focus on other things? are you going to let this be another thing that drags you down? what does hyuck really think of you? do you really think he feels the same way as you?

you fight back against your own thoughts, wrestling to tell yourself that everything with him has been nothing with good, but the intensity of this high brings an entirely new side to all of this — paranoia.

hyuck had explained before that paranoia could come with being high, but you had overtime forgotten the possibility. being high has given nothing but good times and relaxation, but all of that could probably be attributed to the company you had getting there.

you don’t even realize you have tears streaming out of your eyes until your hand comes back wet after rubbing your face.

it’s all too much, and more than anything your mind screams that you need hyuck.

you force yourself to get up, hazy eyes looking for your phone, spotting it on the dining table.

12:27am. hyuck should still be awake gaming, and you can only hope that he is. you crumple to the floor as you quickly find his contact and call him.

only one ring passes when he picks up.

“what’s up, sunshine?” his voice rings through the speaker and you can hear the click of his mouse and keyboard in the background. immediately a sense of relief washes through your body, slightly breaking through the high and has the tears flowing harder than before.

“h-hyuck,” you sob, and immediately the sound of clicking stops.

“are you crying? what’s wrong? are you okay?” his concern makes you want to cry even more, but more than that you want him here with you.

“hyuck, i-i took an edible and i think i took too much and i’m so overwhelmed right now — i can’t stop thinking and crying and i’m just so scared,” you weep, and you hear rustling coming from the phone and the clinking of keys before you’re even done with your sentence.

“stay on the phone with me, baby, i’ll be right there, what’s your apartment number?”

he really knows you like the back of his hand. somehow, he knows that what you need most is him. even if he didn’t know that, the fact that he’s rushing over without you even having to ask helps you shut down the voices that tell you he doesn’t care.

10 minutes of affirmations and sweet words come as you cry, trying so desperately to hold back from telling him everything you’ve been feeling, including what you feel about him.

when his call cuts off with a knock at your front door, you stumble over to let him in, legs having fallen asleep from your position on the floor as you called him.

as soon as you open the door and see him, hair freshly washed and in a hoodie and sweats, the anxiety leaves you like a spell. his glasses are slightly fogged, and he’s catching his breath from rushing up here.

the second he gets a glimpse of your puffy eyes and tear streaked face, he comes in, enveloping you in the warmest, tightest hug.

you immediately melt into him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans back against the front door. you stay there for a few minutes, emptying your eyes out as he comforts you.

“hey, why is my pretty girl crying? what are you so scared of? i’m right here,” he coos as one arm remains securely around you as the other hand alternates between patting your head and massaging the back of your neck.

when the tears seem to have subsided, he waddles over with you still in his arms to your living room couch, and you remain firmly attached to him. he checks your face for anymore tears, and when he finds none, sits you on the couch to get you some water.

“where are your cups?” he asks, checking the cabinets, and you tell him there’s bottles in the fridge. you look at him from your spot on the couch, and immediately feel your heart pang.

this is the first time he’s actually been inside your apartment, but you can’t help but think that he looks so perfect here — that your living space somehow feels more complete than it ever has.

when he sits down with you, handing you tissues and water, he has a hand on your arm, rubbing up and down as you gulp down some water, only now realizing how dry your mouth is.

“so you wanna tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours? and who you got these edibles from? because i know it wasn’t fucking me.” some agitation peeks through his otherwise neutral tone, but his eyes are serious as he waits for your answer.

you tell him about how jeno gave it to you, and hand him the package as he reads the label.

“you had one piece right? that should be fine, but it looks like you might be a bit more sensitive to this since it’s your first time with edibles.” he scolds you lightly, tapping your forehead. “still, i wish you would have called me to at least be on the phone with you when you tried it.”

“i-i wanted to, trust me. but it was late and i thought i could handle it,” you explain.

“that’s why i hate those things, only take them when i really want to feel high as shit, but look what they’ve done to you, baby,” he frowns, going back to rubbing your arms up and down. “any weed needs, you come to me, okay? don’t need my girl going to others for that when i’ve got more than enough.”

my girl.

you realize in your hazy state that his usual “sunshine” has been replaced with other, more endearing, names — my girl, my pretty girl, baby. the sound of his voice has always been addicting to you, but the affectionate names leaving his mouth take it a step further.

you want to hear more. with a boldness that could only be fueled by the weed still running its course through your system, you lean into him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“can you call me that again?” you murmur into his shoulder.

“what?” his voice right next to your ear sends chills all over your body.

“you know.. your girl.. i really like how that sounds.” immediately he’s separated from you, hands holding you at the upper arms as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“what?” he repeats again, and you could almost laugh at how shocked he looks at you mentioning a name he called you.

“your girl.. or baby too..” you say, dazed. you are definitely coming down from your high, but the ensuing sleepiness is making you even more honest. but more than anything, you want to be honest with him right now.

“wanna be your baby, hyuck.”

he lets out a pained groan at your words, running a hand over his face.

“__, you’re high as fuck. you don’t know what you’re saying,” he says, bottom lip between his teeth.

“i know what i’m saying,” you hook your finger around his chain, tugging him a little closer. “i want you to be my baby, too.”

you lean in, closing the distance between you as your faces hover just centimeters from each other. hyuck holds his breath, eyes darting from your glossy eyes down to your lips. he can’t help it, eyes getting hazy as you close the distance, kissing him.

he returns your energy, pressing closer to you with his hands grasping your waist. he moves to deepen the kiss, but after a few seconds the pressure on your waist increases, shutting his eyes tighter before pushing you back slightly.

“i hope you still mean this in the morning, because i want to be yours too,” he has a slightly pained smile. “but you’re so high right now, i don’t want to do anything you’d regret once you’re sober.” you whine at him trying to kiss him again while he stops you, holding your shoulders.

“don’t tempt me, you don’t know how hard you’re making this for me, baby.” he gets up, tugging you up along with him. “let’s get you to bed, sunshine.” he lets you lead him to your bedroom, his hands set on your shoulders, and you plop down on your bed, eyes already heavy.

you hold out your arms to him.

“sleep here tonight?” you ask, and he groans after slapping a hand over his eyes.

“you’re testing me,” he chokes out. you jut out your lower lip, but your eyes threaten to shut any moment.

“i’m not testing you, i just want to wake up to you, is that too much to ask?” in his eyes, you look so cute cuddled up in your bed, eyes begging him to stay. his heart soars as he realizes the sight he’s seen in his dreams could be a reality, starting now.

“i really can’t win against you, just give me a second.” he leaves for a little while, turning off the lights throughout your apartment and making sure the front door is locked before sliding into bed with you.

he immediately pulls you by the waist closer to him, and you, drifting to sleep, cuddle into his chest.

“i won’t do anything okay? don’t worry about anything,” he promises sincerely.

“thank you hyuck.. thank you..” you mumble a bit, nuzzling into him further, sleep taking over. he just holds you tighter.

“sleep tight, sunshine.”

that’s the last thing you hear before you enter into a deep, deep sleep, feeling secure and warm wrapped up in hyuck’s arms.

you wake up to soft snoring and long arms wrapped around you, and as you rub the sleep from your eyes his face comes into full view.

hyuck is sleeping so peacefully in front of you, and if one thing remains from your raging high last night, it’s that hyuck just fits perfectly in your space, it feels overwhelmingly good in his arms, and you want him here always.

“i like you,” the words come out as a whisper as you brush some hair from his forehead. he pops one eye open, elliciting a gasp from you.

“all good, sunshine?” he asks, and you nod. in a second he’s closing the distance between you two, laying a tender kiss on your lips. his arms tighten around you as you lean into him, letting yourself indulge in his warm kisses.

“this isn’t a dream right?” you ask sleepily, and he chuckles at the way you open and close your eyes to see if he’s still there.

“you dream about me?” he grins, and you hide your face back in his chest, nodding slowly. “good, because i dream about you too.”

any sleepiness you had has dissipated completely, and you feel like your heart would explode if you met his eyes right now. his hand, however, meets your chin to tilt your head back up.

“i like you too, by the way, if it wasn’t already obvious,” and with his own confession he meets your lips once more.

it takes a while for the two of you to get out of bed, with both of you dozing off and on, sharing lazy kisses and cuddles until hyuck’s stomach starts rumbling.

“maybe we should get something to eat?” you suggest, starting to slip off the blanket. he’s quick to try and stop you, but before he can catch you you’ve stood up, tugging hyuck by the arm.

“5 more minutes, pleaaaase,” he whines, arm going limp at your efforts to get him up.

“it’s already almost dinnertime, hyuck,” you check your phone, surprised at how much time has passed. his glasses sit next to your phone on the nightstand. while you’re distracted, he sits up at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a darker expression.

his hands trail down your waist, squeezing lightly once he reaches your hips. you drop your phone to be met with his hooded eyes trained on your lips. his eyes meet yours, and your breath hitches as he tightens his grip on your hips.

“i think i’d like to eat something else,” he whispers, leaning into your neck, peppering kisses from the bottom of your chin down your throat. you let out a surprised whimper at the sensation, chills running down your arms.

you move your head down, wanting to kiss him, and as if he reads your mind, his lips meet yours with a passion mirroring the one from the night before.

“lay down, let me get my fill, sunshine,” he urges, feeling himself already incredibly hard at the thought of himself between your legs.

“we’ve been in bed all day, we should take showers and eat first or something,” you start, but you’re cut off with a sharp tug, hyuck pulling you beside him. he sinks to his knees by your legs hanging off the bed.

“later, i need you so bad, you have no idea.” his hands move under your shirt as he loops his hands in the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“do you want this, baby?” he asks as you lean back on your arms, meeting his pleading eyes from his spot between your legs. you gnaw on your lip, already feeling the dampness on your panties. you do want this. so bad.

“i want you, hyuck,” you give him the go ahead. he’s more than willing to give you everything you want and more. he pulls your shorts down your legs, groaning at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.

he pulls that off as well, spreading your lips with his pointer and middle fingers as he admires your core.

“stop staring, it’s embarrassing,” you look away, hips shifting as you feel yourself getting more and more turned on by the second.

“just admiring, baby,” he states warmly, glancing up at your embarrassed expression as he wraps his arms around your legs, hands digging in as he grabs at the flesh of your thighs.

he leans in, licking a stripe from your entrance up to your clit, ending his trail with a swirl of your bud. you moan out at the sensation, clutching at your sheets as he really gets his fill.

he’s messy, tongue going from prodding at your entrance to his face moving side to side over your clit. a growl leaves his throat as he feels your hands move to grip his hair.

“you don’t even know what you were doing to me last night, baby,” he groans into your cunt. “had me going fucking crazy.”

one of his arms unwraps from your thigh, hand pushing at your legs to keep them spread as his long fingers prod at your entrance, one entering you slowly as you grip his hair even tighter. he drags it in and out of you in time with the circles he licks around your clit.

“you’re my baby, right?” he asks, voice sending vibrations through you. he inserts another finger into your entrance and curls them into you, feeling around for a spot that will get you moving just right. he’s stretching you out so well, getting you prepared, wanting you to feel good.

you can’t even respond, already feeling your mind start to wander off, feeling a high so different from every other one he’s shown you. he finds a spot that makes you squeal just a bit higher, and he pistons his fingers in and out to hit that spot just right.

“where’s my sunshine from last night? the one hanging on to me, cute as fuck,” he recalls your high state, how you just melted into him in a different way from how he had you now.

“come on, one more time, don’t you remember? wanna be your baby, hyuck,” raising his voice to a teasing tone in a half-hearted imitation of you. his fingers don’t falter in the slightest.

“please sunshine, let me hear that again?” your mouth, open from the cries leaving you, can’t form any words. he leans down to lay a hard suck on your clit, sending you over the edge as you cry out, legs clamping down on his head as he rides out your orgasm.

he detaches from you as your legs drop, and he stands up between them to get a full view of you fucked out for him.

“fuck, baby, you look so fucking good right now. straight out of my dreams.” he palms himself over his sweats, feeling like he could burst any second, before ripping off his hoodie.

the sight of him standing over you, silver chain lying on his bare chest, is also something out your own dreams. you can feel yourself clench seeing his cock straining through his sweats. you catch your breath, mustering the energy squeeze him between your thighs.

in a second he’s pulling his sweats down, hard member slapping his stomach as he lays it on top of your core, admiring how it looks on your body.

“does my pretty girl need to be filled up?” he teases, pushing your legs up as he starts to tease at your entrance with his tip. you want it so bad, need it.

“then let me hear it, you’re my baby, right?” he lets his tip catch onto your entrance as you gasp.

“f-fuck, hyuck, i’m your baby! i’m your ba-” the second half of the word comes out as a shriek at the feeling of him entering you, bottoming out right away thanks to his prep. the feeling of being so full winds you, stealing the air from your lungs.

he hisses as your pussy grips him, throwing his head up. you can see the vein on his neck protruding, thick neck strained as he tries to get himself in check.

“relax for me, please baby,” he pleads through gritted teeth, circling your clit. “can’t move like this, i’ll cum too soon.”

you breathe in and out as the two of you try to reel it in, and his hips start to move slowly as he feels you adjust to him.

“you’ve been my baby since the day we met,” he breathes out. “since the time you told me you could take it.”

his voice has always been addicting, over the phone, in person, sober or high, but the way he talks to you in this moment just stirs something in your gut. you can’t stop yourself from clenching at his words.

“oh, you like when i talk to you like that?” he pulls out to push you up so your legs are no longer hanging off the bed, making his way to hover above you as he re-enters you.

“you’ve always been so good for me, always so eager to learn, always so willing to take everything i give you,” he lowers himself as he says this straight into your ear. his hips pick up the pace again, hissing at the clench from his words.

“can you, f-fuck, can you take it now?” he breathes out as he feels himself reaching you deeper and deeper.

“i-i can take it, hyuck, i can take it,” you moan out, tears pricking at your eyes as you shut them tight. he’s fucking you so well, and you can only moan as you do just that — take everything he’s giving you.

“you know ’d never do any of this for anyone else, o-only you baby, just wanna make my girl happy,” your heart clenches at his words along with your pussy.

“thought m-my heart was gonna stop when, shit, w-when you called me crying,” his words come out more choked as his hips rut against yours more desperately, starting to feel his own high coming.

“need to be with you a-always, be the only reason you’re crying.” you can only chant his name and yes as you feel the band in your stomach start to get tighter and tighter.

“i’d fucking do anything for you, i’m yours,” he chokes out, and your nails dig into his back.

“i’m your baby, i’m yours, i’m yours,” you repeat, brain unable to form anything else. his kisses your neck before moving his head back above you, his chain swinging against your face as his pelvic bone slaps against your clit harshly.

he moves his head up to kiss you deeply, messy remnants of your own arousal still on his toungue. the bed is creaking under the harsh movements as you get closer and closer.

tears stream down the sides of your face as the band snaps, sending you hurling over the edge as your back arches, gripping onto him tightly.

he curses under his breath repeatedly, hips stuttering to push through the tightness as he cums inside with a loud groan, pushing his head into your neck as he fills you up completely.

he goes limp on top of you, lying there for a bit as you both catch your breath. his softening cock is still inside of you, and you can feel yourself getting drowzy until his stomach rumbles.

he hisses as he pulls out, rolling over to lie down next to you. you turn your head to look at him, entire body spent. your eyes meet his, so soft and full of awe. he looks just as worn, but little do you know, he’s just getting started.

“round 2 after dinner?”

the next morning, a half-asleep hyuck nuzzles you to wake you up, having set an alarm for your work shift.

“sleep okay, sunshine?” his morning voice is deep and groggy, and it’s taking everything in you to not call out for the day.

you feel pretty well rested until you realize how sore your entire body is as soon as you try to wiggle out of his bear hug. his arms wrapped around you are unmoving as he tries unsuccessfully to fully wake himself up as well.

forcing yourself to sit up, you rub your sore back. his hands are still stubbornly attached to your form.

“like a baby,” you reply. you grab your phone, checking your schedule for today, concluding that it’s flexible enough to take a sick day. you text your manager, settling back into hyuck’s arms as you tell him you’re staying home. eyes still half-closed, he presses kisses into every part of your face his lips can find.

“good.” his response is simple as he speaks with his actions, pulling you in closer as the two of you drift back into sleep.

you’re content knowing that your mission to get rid of your sleeping problem was a 100% success, in more ways than just through weed, and that it’s ending with you having more than you could have asked for.

end.

a/n: if you got to the end, thank you so much for reading!!! i know i say this about every fic i've written, but this one was truly truly self-indulgent. it's my first full fic for my ult, longest fic yet, and a birthday present to myself :')

i really appreciate all the support for everything even though i have long gaps between releases. i have had sm fun, and i hope you all enjoy!! this one's more plot than porn but it's def getting a pt2 that's the opposite (it's already planned). thank you again, feedback always loved and appreciated!!

disclaimer: know your limits when consuming weed of any kind. also not all edibles are bad and can be so chill, just for my personal experience my own tolerance of edibles is low compared to smoking 😭 reactions/tolerances vary among people (edibles work better than smoking for many!) but pls be in safe place or with trusted people if you are trying weed for the first time !!!

-coco ♡

#coco writes #nct smut #haechan smut #nct x reader #haechan x reader #stoner!nct #nct imagines #nct hard thoughts

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sinofwriting · 8 days

Text

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #I ❤️ MILFS verse #I was on something when I came up with this idea and the name of this fic

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keyotosprompts · 22 days

Text

love's possessing me ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

ur fav tropes (with variations) + microtropes

⇴ person a + person b are both looking for each other, and they wander all around the place until they finally meet in the middle, where they both crash into each other

⇴ enemies to lovers (kind of) because they're in opposite factions that feud. until one day they run into each other on accident, immediately want to kill the other, and get trapped together. slowly, they discover that their own factions are awful, and they must work together to stop injustice (mk storyline!!!)

⇴ super serious and put together b turns into pure mush at the sight of a. i'm talking the brain stopped functioning call 911 bc we think they suffered brain damage. no they're just in love with person a.

⇴ having their own secret code. whether it be hand signs behind their backs, secret looks, or secret touches—as long as it's a secret then i will eat it up.

⇴ getting so tired that person b falls and person a has to catch them. person b ends up laying their head on person a's shoulder, and person a is now stuck with person b

⇴ "i'm not falling in love" and they fall the hardest (idc how used it is i will eat it up until i die)

⇴ person b admiring how person a brightens up any room when they get excited. "the look of love" as some would call it

⇴ two people that help each other heal. they've both had rough pasts, and when they meet each other—initially they hate it but—things start to mend (hometown cha cha cha anyone???)

⇴ banter and teasing at first meeting, but the more they get to know each other, the more they begin to connect.

⇴ person a + person b fighting over who has to sleep on the couch (they're staying at the other person's house), until they both agree on sleeping in the same bed together

⇴ friends to lovers but the other party did not consider them friends. (yikesssss)

⇴ "you lied to me! you kept lying straight to my face! and you expect me to forgive you?" "what are you talking about?! did you never get my letter?" "what letter?" (oh ur cooked)

⇴ "you deserve better than me." "that's not your decision to make, that's mine."

⇴ person a literally thinking they're the worst person in the world, and then there's person b, who can fight through the darkness and find the light

⇴ "you wouldn't understand!" "then tell me. i just want to listen."

⇴ person a's overworking themselves, so person b has to manually close their computer and put away their work and force them to sleep

⇴ person a stays up for person b to get home, but falls asleep. person b takes a ton of photos of them and then carries them to bed (and joins them later snuggling them ofc)

hey guys! keyotos here. this is a little out of my lane but i created this post for my writing event on my writing blog. but anyone else, feel free to use these and lmk if u guys like content similar to this!

#keyotosprompts #fluff prompts ⋆˚✿˖°#angst prompts ⋆⑅˚₊#writeblr #writing #writing prompts #otp prompts #otp writing #imagine your otp #otp prompt #prompts #story prompt #creative writing #dialogue prompts #writing inspiration #keyotos 1k event

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