#i keep forgeting to come here post things

[16wolke11]

Actual Girlfriend - Lando Norris

A/N Okay, okay you guys convinced me to post it! I am not hating on any the drivers girlfriends/friends/situationships or whatever, and this shot was written before the GP on Sunday, just updated slightly (:

WORDS: 2529 _____

I knew what I had signed up for when I started dating Lando Norris. Late-night calls due to different time zones, meeting in secret, and trying to stay out of the media's focus. He is a public figure and I am just about to graduate from university. Keeping our relationship private felt safe at first, romantic like in a novel, but the downside came around quicker than I thought it would. 

Monaco was the downfall. The weekend, I couldn’t even attend if I wanted to. My final exam was coming up in the following week, and as much as I wanted to be there for Lando, I needed to sit this race out. Lando was understanding, even encouraging me to stay home and ace my exams, but the distance hurt deep down in my chest. 

Lando made the effort to keep in touch with me. He texted me in the morning, between the sessions, and I tried to reply to him and keep things light, but it felt harder and harder with every short message or blurry picture he sent over. 

Good morning, Love. Quali is today. Wish me luck?

I smile softly at his message, him acting like I might forget how important today is and I can only think about that smile on his lips when he asks for some luck. 

Stay out of the barriers (:

It feels cold-hearted even to me, but I can’t bring myself to write anything else. My chest feels hollow, and I am unable to display the affection he deserves, but I hope all of this will fade when we are back together. 

By the time qualifying came around, social media was buzzing. Usually, I try to keep myself away from gossip pages, but some pictures draw me to them. There is Magui, laughing in the paddock with some friends, even spotted with Lando’s parents and my heart sinks. The pictures aren’t overly confirming, but they bring on even more speculations. Fans are picturing things with the crumbs they collected over the last months. 

Oh god, Magui is with McLaren!

They are so soft launching.

This is a hard launch for their standards. 

May I present to you Lando “Magui is just my friend” Norris.

Guess the rumours were true for once. 

Every comment feels like a knife being dragged over my heart. I know that it is just fan theories, Lando being the one loving me, but it still gnaws at me. This is what comes with dating someone famous: rumours and everything I should keep my distance from. But as much as I want to ignore it, every time I open any social media, it gets worse. 

The algorithm is laughing at me while showing me more pictures of Magui around the paddock. Being in the team hospitality, lingering around Lando’s crew and even more pictures with Cisca and Adam. I stare at the last picture for a whole minute before locking my phone, throwing it face down on my bed. 

I didn’t say anything to Lando, not wanting to seem jealous, insecure or clingy. But the ache is real, and it doesn’t fade during the day. It doesn’t fade when Lando gets pole, breaking the lap record in Monaco and even though a smile comes to my lips while seeing him celebrate, it doesn’t soothe anything. 

That night, my phone lights up, a FaceTime call from Lando and I answer it, managing to put half a smile on my face. 

“Hey there stranger.” Lando greets me, grinning widely, but his eyes are tired. Curls still damp from the shower, and it looks like he is ready to drop onto his bed and sleep until the race is about to start tomorrow. 

“Look at you, breaking records and snatching pole.” I tease him, feeling genuinely happy, no matter how much my heart aches. 

“You should be here.” Lando says, not accusing me of something, just simple honesty. “It's not the same without you.” He adds and it doesn’t help the aching feeling in my chest. 

“You have company.” I say, tilting my head slightly, trying to indicate his parents being around him all the time, but it comes out way too bitter. Lando’s smile drops and my stomach twists, knowing he can sense my discomfort through the phone. There is a pause, dreading and long enough to sting. 

“She is just around because of mutual friends and stuff. You still know that.” Lando speaks up quickly, before a sigh leaves his lips. “Right?” His eyes scan my face, like he is trying to figure out through the screen if I am serious or not. 

“Yeah.” I just hum and we look at each other for a moment. 

“I miss you.” Lando whispers and I hate it even more that I can’t be with him. That this dam exam has to be this week and not when there is no upcoming race weekend. But I worked so hard for this degree, and I will finish it. After that, I can go to more races, hopefully, being right by Lando’s side. 

“I miss you too.” I admit, I feel the urge to explain something to him. “It just feels so hard this weekend, Lando. Seeing and reading all of this. It makes me feel like a dirty secret.” I feel bad for my feelings and know I shouldn’t be, but the pressure on my shoulders does get less with telling Lando. 

“You’re not a secret.” Lando rubs the back of his neck. “You are mine and I like to keep you safe.” My heart flutters softly. Lando always had a protective side. When it comes to his family and when it comes to me. No harm through the media and the fans, especially after what happened with his previous girlfriend and every girl he just looked at for a little too long.

“Just…just do well tomorrow, okay?” I whisper, not wanting to keep this topic any longer. We will have to speak about it again, but not now. I don’t want to pull his attention away from his race and Lando’s face softened.

“For you? Always.” Then he grins softly, and everything feels like it's going to be okay. We hung up not long after, the screen going black again, drenching me in silence. 

I wake up early on race day, even though I don’t want to. Having way too much time now to cover before the race starts. Revising for my exam doesn’t help, wandering around in the apartment makes waiting even worse and even though I usually don’t even watch it, I put on the prerace coverage, hoping it will help me to be distracted. Celebrities walk over the grind, Monaco shining in all its glory and then the race is about to start. 

Part of me doesn’t even want to watch the race, but in the end, I didn’t move from the TV or shut it off. Curled up on the couch, cameras showing the grid for the last time, before the lights go out. Just in the first corner, I fear the race is over for Lando when he locks up, but manages to keep his car safe. My heartbeat is way too quick, but slowly the nerves die down. 

Monaco isn’t the most exciting race when it comes to overtakes, but every little mistake can cost the people on the grid everything. Lando drives around with ease and with every lap nearing the end, lets a proud feeling rise in my chest. He is going to nail it. 

The day would be great if it weren’t for two sentences from the TV commentators that stick with me. 

“And there is Lando Norris' girlfriend.”

“Lando Norris' parents and his partner.”

All the happiness that was building up falls apart when Magui is displayed on the screens and the commentators are calling her Lando’s girlfriend. It feels like betrayal and tears rise to my eyes. I don’t even want to cry, but it seems to be the only thing that soothes the ache in my chest. 

Lando wins the Monaco Grand Prix for the first time, and I cheer at the screen, softly, not as loudly as I usually would. I feel broken, but still full of pride, with a mixture of disbelief and joy. He did it. 

The camera follows him when he jumps out of the car, when he is hugged and kissed by his parents. Loving to see them so affectionate, but still, heart-aching about what happened. The podium ceremony went by like a blur and I can’t bring myself to turn off the TV, just staring at it, until my phone buzzes. 

It's Lando. 

Please watch the post-race interviews.

I sigh, eyes focusing back on the screen, making the sound a bit louder, when Lando appears on the screen, still grinning widely. Curls damp by sweat and champagne, but he bubbles with happiness. 

“Hi Lando, congrats on the race win here in Monaco.” Nathalie Pinkham starts, sounding like a proud mother while speaking to Lando. 

“Thank you, Natalie.”

Then they talk about the race, making me zone out, until I hear one particular question. 

“Is there anyone particular whom you would like to thank?” Lando pauses for a moment, eyes flickering to the side to his PR, before he starts to answer. 

“I want to thank so many people.” He laughs softly and starts his list. „My parents, I love you; they gave everything for me, and they are the reason I am where I am.” It's sweet to see Lando’s love for his parents, and not just because of the cameras, but also in private. 

“McLaren, my team and everyone believing in me.” Lando continues and then he hesitates, like he has to think about his next answer.

“Well, and of course, thank you to my love, who unfortunately couldn’t be here today, but supports me every second, no matter where she is.” My heart stops, before softly fluttering at his words. Without saying much, Lando just revealed that Magui is, in fact, not his girlfriend. I need to blink a few times, reminding me that this is reality. 

“She probably screamed at the TV for a bit today.” Lando laughs and I snort softly. Usually, I do scream at the TV for a bit, but it wasn’t so bad today. 

“Your girlfriend couldn’t attend today’s race?” Natalie asks after a short pause, like she had to sort her head, probably thinking the same as everyone else. Lando is taken, but not to whom everyone thinks he is. 

“No, she is busy with preparations for her final exam at university next week and being at the racetrack isn’t exactly the perfect environment for learning for something so important. So, we decided she will sit this one out to ace her exam.” Lando explains willingly and for the first time this weekend, I feel warm again. A few happy tears slip down my cheeks because now it feels like everything is going to be okay again. 

By now, my social media is flooded with pictures from Lando’s win. Him being hugged by his parents, cheering with the team, and celebrating with Oscar and Charles on the podium. It is like the grey clouds have been blown away by celebrations, showing the happy sun again. And I do come by one of the gossip pages again, slightly hesitating to click on the comments, but open them anyway. 

Lando is silencing all the rumours about Magui by dropping an even bigger bomb.

He seems to be so in love!

If I was his girlfriend, I would be so pissed at the TV commentators right now. 

A bit later, my phone buzzed again with an incoming call from Lando. and I take it without hesitating. 

“Hi.”

Lando’s face fills up the screen, eyes still sparkling with happiness, hair messy and him still in his race suit. I can hear the music nearby, cheery voices and people in the background. 

“Hey.” Lando says, voice tired in the best kind of way. 

“Hi.” I say again, quieter this time. “You did it.”

Lando just grins, “We did it”, making me frown. This is his big moment, his big win. 

“I didn’t do anything?”

“That's not true.” Lando’s gaze is soft on me and even though there are celebrations for him, his attention is fully on me. 

“You were the one driving 300km/h. You are the one who won Monaco.” I remind him that it was all his effort. Steering precisely around the track, not crashing, not losing his nerves. 

“And I was only able to do it because of you.” Lando hums, and just when I want to protest, he continues. “You think our late-night calls didn’t help me sleep? That your texts before quail don’t help to clear my head?” I doubt that I have that much of an effect on him, but if it makes him feel better, I believe him. 

“I watched everything, couldn’t move.” I admit how my eyes were drawn to the TV, not willing to let any bit slip by without my attention. 

“I felt you.” Lando promises, “I mean my engineer was yelling at me to stay focused, but it was your voice telling me not to crash over and over again.”

I laugh softly, remembering that I told him that before the qualification, “Sounds like something I would say.” Lando hesitates for a moment, eyes flickering around and I tilt my head to the side, waiting for him to speak up. 

“And I meant everything I said in that interview. Keeping you private was safe, but at this point, it hurt you more than it protected you.” I blink slowly, trying to keep the tears back this time, but one still rolls down my cheek. My heart, which has been aching the whole weekend, feels like it is being hugged by Lando’s words, making the harsh cuts heal bit by bit. 

“I love you.” I whisper with my whole heart and Lando’s smile gets just a bit brighter. 

“Says that again.” He mutters and I gladly follow. 

“I love you.”

Lando sighs, “Oh, I love you too.” We look at each other for a moment, both faces filled with adoration and happiness. 

“Are you going to get any sleep tonight?” I ask him, already doubting it. He won Monaco, many of the drivers live here and partying after Monaco is kind of mandatory. 

“Probably not, too many people want to drag me to a club.” Lando says, hand gesturing around and I can only imagine how many people want to party with him tonight.

“Are you going?” 

“Forcefully,” Lando grins, “But I show my face and then sneak away again, back to the hotel.” He explains, making me tilt my head to the side. 

“To do what?”

“Call you again, talk till the sun rises.” His soft voice, his words, the love in his eyes make all the pain go away. Cause in the in the in I am the one he loves with his whole heart. And just like that, the distance between us doesn’t feel so wide anymore. 

[alltimecharlo]

do you perchance know why almost EVERY willmack blog is convinced will smith is like a huge momma’s boy and that his family won’t leave him alone😭 I know his family comes to a lot of his games, but some blogs spin it in such an evil way

i'm back with another willmack lore drop/literature review/whatever you want to call it!

today's topic: will smith hockey's close-knit family!🧑‍🧑‍🧒‍🧒🩵

will's relationship with his family, and his home town of lexington, mass, is definitely an interesting one. both are clearly extremely important to him.

below is a post from the official battle of lexington ig account (yes that exists) detailing will and his family’s deep roots in lexington, as well as an excerpt from this article which shows how important will's heritage is to him and his family.

A third-generation Lexingtonian, Will’s family is deeply woven into the town’s fabric. He attended Hancock Preschool (like his dad, Bill, 40 years earlier) and Bowman Elementary, spending his childhood at @HaydenRecreation, skating on frozen ponds and backyard rinks.

as we know from cat's podcast - will's family attend the re-enactment of the battle of lexington every year! he thinks it's cool and is kind of history nerd. will is also at least the third 'william smith' in his family (following his father and grandfather) technically making him 'william smith III' ig? although his dad goes by 'bill'.

when will had to move to michigan for the usa development program, instead of billeting with a host family like most kids do, will's family bought a house in michigan for two years (whilst keeping their house in lexington ofc) because his dad felt it was 'important to be there at a critical stage of his life'

will had fellow massachusetts boys will vote (arlington) and ryan leonard (amherst) living with him! both wsh's and will vote's mom spent two-week shifts living with the boys and cooking/shopping for them. this basically meant that will's mom was able to cook for him and provide family support fairly regularly whilst he was playing his hockey, so she was very present in his journey! (momma's boy) in fact, will's mom said 'she feels like she has two more sons.'

will's dad was working back in boston often and grace was already attending bc! speaking of bc, will is the 14th member of his family to attend the school despite initially commiting to northeastern at the tender age of 14 (his friends from st. sebastian were commiting there too). and he luckily got to tell his grandfather before he died that he was committing to bc.

will regularly met up with his sister, grace, in his freshman year whilst she was a senior where they would meet for lunch or attend SUNDAY MASS (wsh catholic allegations need their own post i fear...), which grace really enjoyed and appreciated ☺️

with his enitre family being so local (will’s three aunts all live in lexington with their families, 10 cousins in total. his grandmother polly, 87, never misses bc home games), will often had over 40 people (FORTY!!!) attend his bc home games to support him.

as we can see at the top of this post^ at his first game with the sharks, this tradition clearly transferred over to the nhl as well, despite will now playing his hockey 2000 miles away. '20 people were in the stands for him, including his father, who was celebrating his birthday.' !!

a large number of will's family were also in stockholm for worlds and got to see him win gold! (he's waving to them in this gifset :) it is obviously very important to the smiths to show up for each other! as will's mom says:

“When are you ever going to have this experience with your 17-, 18-year-old son in this unbelievably exciting (situation)?” Colleen Smith asked. “And be experiencing it with them, not just from afar. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing that we’ll never forget.”

will's dad was also present on the sharks' dads' trip like mack's. here they are sitting at dinner altogether! (oh, to be a fly on the wall here...)

SO, to answer your question: wsh IS a huge momma's boy and his family certainly WON'T leave him alone but i really don't think he'd have it any other way. his family clearly means a lot to him and seeing as they've always been there for him every step of the way, i think he appreciates their presence more than ever now in the nhl :)

will has also been very vocal about how helpful living with the marleaus has been for his rookie season! this gave him a similar ‘family’ environment that was nice to come home to, especially during a tough season 🩵

'It was awesome, I’m so happy I did it. They’re definitely going to be a family that I’m going to be connected with my whole life now. I learned everything—not even with hockey, just off the ice and how great the people are.'

[flowersgardensblog]

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘓𝘢𝘻𝘢𝘳𝘶𝘴 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘺, 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪—𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦, 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧-𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤. 𝘐𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧 1953, 𝘺𝘰𝘶—𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘚𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘬—𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘵, 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭.

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 1953, 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘬𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵. 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘬'𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥, " 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴." 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳 (𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 6). 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘬’𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘷, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴! 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦.

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬! 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘵

𝘸/𝘤: 1420

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

She smells like the summer just before rot — peach perfume and iron.

Sweet and heady. The kind of scent that stirs up hunger in the belly and the throat. It stays on my hands after I brush hers, and I don't know whether to burn the feeling off or bury it inside myself.

I know what she tastes like.

Not because I've touched her — not yet — but because I've tasted the blood that made her. Her mother's blood. Her cries. Her prayers, sharp and sweet, swallowed in the dark like communion. I drank the legacy she bloomed from. That kind of knowing don't rinse clean. Not even after twenty-one years.

And now here she is, standing at the edge of the church crowd in a white dress and soft shoes, curls bouncing like they got secrets in 'em. Her laughter's too bright. Her skin too warm. She shines like something new, but I know better. She's made of old things. Things that remember me.

I want to kiss her.

Not the way good men do. Not soft. I want her mouth open and uncertain, shaped around my name like it's a question and a plea. I want her pinned somewhere quiet, spine arched just enough to let me taste the place where her pulse pounds loudest. I want to see what parts of her go quiet when touched right — how her breath catches, how her fingers twitch when she's holding back a sound.

Want to take that mouth and teach it everything I've kept locked inside. I wonder if I should take her now, press her up against the rough church wall and taste her neck, feel that pulse thrum against my tongue. Or if I should wait. Let her fall in love first. Let her come undone slow, all dreamy and trusting, before I unmake her in ways she won't ever forget. Let her beg, not for mercy, but for me.

I shouldn't be here.

I shouldn't want this.

But I keep circling.

I watch her every Sunday, pretending I ain't. I lean against the fence post like I'm part of the landscape, shadowed and still, but my eyes never leave her. Not when she laughs, not when she sings, not when her hands brush that boy's arm — Jordaniel. The boy with the clean shoes and a smile like a hymn. The kind of boy who doesn't need to wait to be invited in. He's polite. Steady. Wears his Sunday clothes like they fit his skin, not like a costume. He says "yes, ma'am" and "no, sir" and looks folks in the eye. Even his posture is honest. It makes me sick. It maddens me.

I hate the way he touches her. Hate how she lets him. Like he's safe. Like he's real.

He ain't. Not in the way I am.

He's not a bad choice. And that's the worst part.

He's kind. Patient. Probably never thought a cruel thing in his life. He'll carry her books. He'll hold her hand. He'll kiss her slow and soft, with one eye still on heaven. And if she asked, he'd wait. Forever, if he had to. Until the wedding night, or the second coming — whichever came first.

And maybe that's enough.

Maybe that's what she deserves. A quiet life. A house with a porch swing. Hands that only know how to hold. A man who prays before he touches her.

She could love him.

And he could love her back in a way that's simple. Clean.

I could hate him for that alone.

But what eats me more — what splits me open every time I see them standing too close, talking too soft — is that he might be good enough. He might give her a kind of peace I never could. No hunger. No shadows. No teeth pressed to her skin.

And the shame of that?

It burns.

Because I don't want her to choose him. I want her to want the thing that would ruin her. I want her to see everything I am — the blood, the hunger, the black heat curling behind my ribs — and come closer anyway.

But what if she doesn't?

What if she picks him?

What if she takes his hand and lets herself be loved gently, and I'm left standing on the edge of the crowd?

What does that make me?

Just a thing circling a flame I was never meant to touch.

He don't know what she is. What she could be. He looks at her like she's light. He don't see the dark blooming under her ribs. But I do. I smell it. I feel it in her pulse, in the way the air bends when she walks past.

There's a hunger in me when I look at her. Not just for her body, though that's there too — soft neck, blood just under the skin, the place her heart beats hardest when she's nervous. I could tear into her and she'd still be warm in my arms. Still whisper my name, even through the bleeding.

But it ain't just hunger.

It's want.

And I want to be the one who teaches her different. I want to be the one who teaches her how deep it goes. How sharp pleasure can feel when it's wrapped in danger.

I don't like to play with my food—never saw the point. The kill was the pleasure. Clean, fast, done. I've never been one to linger. But her?

Her, I'd take my time with.

I'd let her run.

Let her ache.

Let her dream of my hands before I ever touch her. Let her learn her own body by the shape of mine. And then, when she's ready — when she's begging, soft and breathless — I'd give her the truth of what I am.

Maybe this time, I'll make an exception.

Or maybe, God help me, I'll fall into her like she's salvation.

Maybe I'll love her.

Maybe I already do.

And maybe that's the worst hunger of all.

[worstgenerationloser]

,, Who the hell is FireFist?! ''

Synopsis... Unable to resist the temptation of an internet argument, you accidentally end up dooming yourself by responding to "FireFist." Now, he's obsessed with pissing you off.

Word count...

Warnings... There are crude comments and remarks, profanity, internet harassment, ... Be advised of this as you read!

Fic Masterlist here!

Tags: @neospade ; @lilink ; @bluetokie ; @kanekisheart ; @ren-ni ; @hauntedlunaa ; @mylifeisamess ; @euriiverse ; @j014xio ; @fruitncandy ; ; @ally-wow ; @spyderst4r ; @kiberrymatcha ; @valkyrie-8

A/N: I know there was a super long wait but surprise surprise i have gotten rather busy and straight up forgot to post this...

Everyone knows the internet is dreadful at times with differing opinions and hateful comments towards one another, some people trying to turn themselves into the embodiment of peace and happiness on their social media pages despite being the literal incarnation of evil… Now, you won’t try and say you’re all sunshine and rainbows, but maybe you get a little defensive when it comes to the things you like, and that may or may not lead to a few arguments in comment sections. Which is exactly your current predicament.

The notification wall on your phone's lock screen displayed one notification from Instagram. There was no doubt in your head that it was the guy who had become the reason for your most recent internet argument.

FireFist replied to your comment: “ dont care, didnt ask. “

Three tips for dealing with internet trolls, and you managed to break the most important one. Everyone says not to engage but you can’t resist the temptation, and that is a bad habit you’re eager to break; but it can also wait for another year or two. Naturally, your anger gets the best of you over an Instagram comment, and you click on his profile again to see if there’s something to use against him. Unfortunately for you, his account is private, and he has five followers, so there is zero chance of you sneaking in even, on a burner account. Just your luck, you had no fuel for your fire besides the fact that “FireFist” had terrible opinions regarding music, and his username sounded like a shitty porno. Despite that, you began to type away, forgetting whatever it is you were doing to try and come up with a comeback.

You replied to FireFist’s comment: “then why r u still responding lol thats sad.”

Not even a minute later, his reply lit up your phone screen.

FireFist replied to your comment: “i can say the same for you LMAOO u want me so bad!!”

Okay, they are just trying to rile you up. And unfortunately for you it was in fact working alarmingly easily.

You replied to FireFist’s comment: “i wouldnt touch u with a 10ft pole, ur probably infectious”

He replied quickly that time, too.

FireFist replied to your comment: “sounds like u rllyy wanna touch me bcz u keep responding to me… its ok to say u want me”

The asshole twisted your words. Do you get defensive, insult him more, or block him? Blocking people is for pussies, and that definitely makes you a hypocrite because you have blocked so many people you reached the limit more than once, but you feel such intense hatred for this internet stranger today that you don’t want to block them. For a while, you try to figure out what to say back without sounding too offended… Ultimately, it's a losing battle, and you can’t figure out where to go from here. Your heart is racing and you feel anxious but you don’t stop to think about why you’re doing things like this despite the reactions they give you.

Then, your screen lights up again. Moving slow as a snail, your hand shaking from anxiety picks up your phone. Yes, it was who you’d expect.

FireFist replied to your comment: “don't be shy, im open minded ;)”

That sets you off. Really bad. Clenching your jaw uncomfortably tight, your hand clicks on his profile, then the three dots in the corner. There, that bright red text greets you. 

Block.

Are you sure you want to block FireFist? They won’t be able to…

After seeing that text a thousand times over, you just don’t care anymore. You blocked him, and you aren’t expecting anymore of his odd messages anytime soon. Simmering in anger alone in your bedroom, you’re interrupted by a knock on your bedroom door. It’s probably your roommate, Franky. He’s an eccentric guy with electric blue dyed hair that he styles differently every other week, a ridiculous amount of confidence in himself, and that’s not even mentioning his weird obsession with cyborgs. You are sure in another life Franky is living out his cyborg dreams, still having his outbursts of energy.

“Y/N! Wanna come to the pet store with me? I gotta get a new filter for Jinbe!” Franky yells obnoxiously loud through your door. Jinbe, his pet fish who he swears has the spirit of a whale shark, but to be fair, that fish is pretty badass. 

“Sure! Let me get dressed!” You yell back, tumbling out of bed towards your dresser. Your phone can wait! All you need now is to throw on a little something that won’t make you look like you have a bleak life.

“Hm? Were you cooking? The smoke alarm is going off!” Nonchalant as ever, Franky gently pushes open your bedroom door. Wait, why is he holding Jinbe’s tank in his hands? Disregarding his question you stupidly focus on the most irrelevant thing, before your eyes widen in shock. Without an utterance of any words, a string of noises escapes your mouth.You throw yourself out the door, dashing towards the kitchen. Okay, fixing your temper is now number one on the bucket-list, if it allows you to make a mistake this big then maybe it’s a problem.

And with that, you manage to subject yourself to a few months of signature Franky-style teasing. The whole situation is so absurd, even you have trouble trying to wrap your head around why you got so worked up… Looking over at your roommate on the couch next to you, something tells you that he's about to offer some clarity.

“Y’know… You spend a little too much time online. Seriously, you have no idea how many angry DM’s I get from people you argued with in a comment section or whatever. Kinda tiring.”

Franky blurted out loud, cleaning the salt from his chips off of his fingers with an obnoxious sucking noise as the loud crack of a can of cola follows along. It had become a sort of biweekly tradition for you and Franky to sit on the couch and put on some sketchy movies which if the law asks, you legally acquired. Despite him having literally no reason to, he took you in when reality hit you right in your soul upon moving to this town; Franky even invites you places and offers to buy you things when you’re short on cash. He does still annoy you, but it’s in more of an older brother way instead of the way a regular old roommate would.

“There’s no room for you to critique me. I haven’t seen you drink a drop of water since we started living together four years ago.” A rather extensive sigh highlights your softened speaking voice, though only Franky picks up the dash of sarcasm found in your words. He always ends up parroting words and promises you utter to yourself, it’s annoying but you guess he’s just gotten to know you excessively well. You don’t really like being told what to do anyways.

“Hey! That’s a completely separate matter! I am my own person. But–...” Tapping his chin, Franky licks salt from the corner of his mouth after he trails off for a moment. The blue light from the T.V screen makes his hair look luminescent in a silly way and that’s all you can focus on.

“I have seniority over you. I showed you the not-so-local scene, hidden gems, and I let you stay with me dirt cheap! I also know that I’m practically your only friend. Maybe listen a little, because sometimes I worry about you like my own family.” 

Well, he’s got you there. You have definitely neglected your social life— yourself in general. After turning eighteen you bought a lottery ticket, won a decently sized prize; realized that you didn’t wanna live with your parents forever— and following the scent of freedom you landed yourself in this stupid town with a significantly less amount of money, and barely a plan. Eighteen is still very much teenaged, so you thought you would maybe be able to work things out after only having maybe $400 left and the brand-new car you got with your lottery money… No apartment lined up, not thinking of the fact you would have to buy furniture or get a job, just living off the adrenaline rush that came with a change of scenery. It’ll be four years since you moved here in a month or two, and sometimes your life feels just as messy at times.

Looking over at Franky you feel eternally grateful, he would laugh if you ever told him something like that to his face, so you keep emotional words to yourself. With a permissive nod, Franky settles back onto the couch and stares right at you.

“I know you're technically an adult, but I can't forget the eighteen-year-old girl I saw sulking in the streets. It's fine if you wanna be introverted, but you don't go outside if you aren't shopping or going places with me. Plus, being angry at internet strangers is terrible for your mental health. I’m not super into these corny talks, just try and do something without being mad all the time. Start a blog, take up video gaming, things like that.”

Franky leaves you with his words of rare wisdom, he turns the volume up on TV without looking back in your direction. Taking his advice into consideration, you tune out the noises coming from the television and start reevaluating the choices that have led you to this point. 

Pros; you got Franky and a cheap place to stay that isn't a total shit hole.

And the cons… It's best if you ignore them for now, you'll end up on a downward spiral, and not the good Nine Inch Nails album kind of downward spiral.

There's barely any luck when you try to make small talk with the cashier at your local supermarket, and online 90% of the time whenever you voice your opinions it makes somebody angry— the other 10% is when you're upset with someone else's opinion... When you put things like that you start to wonder if you're the problem. Socializing without Franky would be the first step towards becoming a better you! Starting off small is the key to success in your case.

“Okay, now let's just relax and forget all about my blog. Gotta wait for some likes… But I guess here they're called hits.”

Closing your laptop, you sit back in bed. There's an odd rush of adrenaline running through your veins, something's telling you that this is going to be a success. Here you're going to make some cool mutuals, engage in friendly conversation, and hopefully if someone thinks highly enough of you— you’ll get yourself a fan. That's wishful thinking, though. If things go sour you have to abandon this platform forever. The moment you get comfortable and reach for your phone, a soft knock sounds at your door, and you already know it's one of the only people you maintain a relationship with and live with.

“Y/N? Just wanted to make sure I didn't overstep earlier. I know you've never had an issue with it before, but I tend to overthink. You also know that. Tell me you aren't upset so I can post Jinbe on my story with a clear mind.”

Without even seeing him, you can tell by his voice that he's got his face pressed against your door. 

“I’m not!” You shout aloud, getting back into a comfortable position.

“Are you sure?”

“...I’m sure.”

“Okay, but are you sure that you're sure?”

“Rest assured I’m not upset with you in any way or manner, Franky.”

“...Alright, but are you confident?”

He's doing the thing again. Angrily, you walk towards your door and fling it open— but Franky is already scurrying to his room, giggling along the way. His joy is infectious, and you forget about your worries and previous annoyances. Today was productive enough in your book; Franky made some burgers on the grill earlier and invited a few of his more sociable and interesting friends, mentioning how bummed he was that some girl… Whatever her name was, couldn't come over. Even if they weren't there for you it was still nice to have a few laughs with new faces. Then you got in some sun and just let your thoughts drift away; until the creation of your blog, which is still in the densely populated space of your brain.

You forgot all about it until you were dressed up the next morning, scurrying to open your laptop in a daze. More anxious than ever, the color blue highlighting the numbers over your notification's inbox reading “99+” damn near killed you. You move your mouse over to your profile picture in the corner, and check out your post, a simple photo of your outfit with less accessories than usual.

800 hits total. 12 comments. 46 reposts. And your post was added to a few collections, you'd say maybe 20 people did so. That leaves 722 likes. 

Something tells you to check the comments, and after skimming through them, you're comforted when you see nothing negative. You felt comfortable saying this since he hopefully wasn't omniscient, but you're glad you didn't see that FireFist dude in your notifications. Honestly you can't even explain to yourself why he came up just now, but he did. He pissed you off a great deal, so it's valid you're still thinking of him. The positive comments distract you more than that asshole does, though. Starting from the top you begin to read.

NamiLuvsMoney: “def not my style but super cute <3”

When you checked her profile, you saw that she seemed to have amassed a large fan base doing the same as you. That wasn't even mentioning how beautiful she was in her profile picture, so much so that you followed her immediately after verifying it was really her of course. Your eyes move on to the next comment.

SuuperCyborg: “i need my belt back”

It's Franky, you nearly forgot you gave him your blog handle. He doesn't post much but he has an introduction on his page, you follow him after giggling at the familiar profile picture which was the same on each social media page of his. It was the one a show photographer took of him spraying cola everywhere with his hair in a huge Mohawk, there's a few of his friends whom you barely remember holding him up and laughing. It makes you want to go to a punk show with him.

The next comment is just a thumbs up emoji, and the person who commented has no profile picture set. Checking their profile, they only seem to repost historical things. You block them under the assumption bot interactions will mess with your blog's engagement, you did so well on this first post, and you don't wanna ruin that. Goodbye to the blog titled “Bookmark”, it's a stupid name for a blog but FireFist is worse. 

SaDbo: “this outfit reminds me of my little brothers friend. he's pretty kickass and I kinda want his closet, but his eyes are intimidating sometimes. i think you wear it better 👀”

Oh, you've made it. After scanning his profile obsessively, your ego experiences a massive increase. This hottie complimented your outfit. This gorgeous blonde man? Stay calm, racing heart. When you dig a little more you see that he reposts a bit of everything, and you find yourself a little curious about him. Any sane person would follow him. Anybody. Franky would give you a round of applause right about now.

The page suddenly refreshes on its own, and there you see it now placed at the top of the column of comments.

FireFist: “i see you!"

FireFist: “did ya miss me?”

His comments were immediately deleted, but apparently this website didn't allow you to block people on new accounts, so you decided to send this guy a DM in hopes of maybe getting him to fuck off. Preparing an angry DM you try not to sound too aggressive to risk your following of 78 people, which is still pretty impressive if you do say so yourself. Enough about you, more about your aggressor.

“this is really creepy of you to do”

On the other side of the screen, you like to think this guy is old and greasy, maybe even divorced or something. Again, his profile is bare. Nothing at all, just a black profile picture.

“you're the one playing hard to get babe”

His response came quickly, like he was waiting for you to message him. When you read his message and see he called you “babe” that makes you think it would be for the best if he wasn't an old man. This wasn't your first time being harassed online, but this was the first time someone found an account with an entirely different email address linked to it, not to mention there was no indication that it was you. Every other profile is bare, besides your close friends' stories.

“youre harassing me???? on the internet? do you have any hobbies?  no sane person has this much free time”

“how did you even find me, my user is completely different” This bizarre situation is gonna leave you with long lasting paranoia regarding social media. Three dots pop up and fade in and out in the bottom corner of your chat, showing that FireFist is now typing.

“yah i knew you would have a fuckass handle like this bcz wtf does this even mean”

Is your handle really that cringe? The essence of social media is that you can do things with less cares than usual, so you begin to think letting your imagination run wild and ironically choosing your username was a mistake. Does everyone know its satirical?

“youre one to talk, FireFist”

Another message of yours trails behind. The typing begins, but then it stops. And it doesn't pick back up after that. You refresh the page over and over whilst not even blinking, itching for a response so you can say something else without seeming obsessed— but it never comes. Guess that's the end of it. 

At least that's what you thought at the time. Fifteen minutes later is when it happened.

“Y/N! Who the hell is FireFist?!” Franky’s yelling is close, and then your door swings open with such force, the brass doorknob comes crashing into your drywall at record speeds. When the door lightly swings back and forth and lets out of the wall, there's a circular hole from where the doorknob made contact.Damn this shitty house and its fragile walls. To make matters worse; when you look up at Franky he seems angry.

“Shit. Did he do something?” Your anxiety is killing you to the point you barely manage to speak to Franky. Is it wrong to think that this is kind of scary? It's just some dude online, but he's everywhere now. That means the chances of seeing him in real life are slim… You think.

“Something? Did he do something?” Franky hangs his head, his hand gripping the side of the door while he seethes in his anger.

“He trashed my base in Cyborg Utopia! Uh, why are you so nervous anyways?” Then comes Franky’s dramatic outburst, and suddenly the tension in the air dissipates a bit. But you can't shake the feeling that this isn't the last instance of him popping up places.

“Huh? Oh, well— er…”

Maybe you shouldn't worry Franky. He would probably end up embarrassing you by making a few thousand angry posts about him if you told him you had a new internet… Stalker? FireFist falls into that category you suppose. You choose to keep quiet about it all. Franky looks at you expectantly, but you just shake your head. Don't worry about it. His eyes betray him and showcase his momentary worry as he walks away, shutting your door softly.

Wait a second.

“Hey! My wall, asshole!” You scream and stand up, shouting closer to the door so Franky could hear you a little louder.

“Not my problem!”  Franky yells back even louder than you.  The slamming of the front door is heard all the way from your room, followed by the sound of your roommates' noisy, beat up motorcycle speeding off. It's almost twelve in the morning, and he's off again.

Fuck, the week isn't even over. A stalker, a hole in your wall, and an odd sense of loneliness. You do still need friends, after all.

[ilysungho]

I just read your latest post about toxic Sungho 🤭🤪 and since we're entering toxic bnd territory I obviously have to put the idea of toxic Jaehyun out there.

He would definitely be the type to flirt with every girl that comes close to him and that would make you immensely jealous and insecure. But instead of reassuring you or making you feel better NO he would gaslight you into thinking that you're in the wrong and overreacting. And to make it up to you he would fuck you so good you forget why you were mad in the first place. And the cycle just continues.

OH but here is where it gets worse, if YOU'RE just talking to some guy not even flirting at all, he gets all mad and possessive. He comes up to you and wraps his arm around your waist a little too tightly, even kissing you with tongue and everything in front of the other guy. Even if you try to explain that you were just having a casual conversation he doesn't care and this time he fucks you so good to remind you who you belong to. At that point you can't even complain 😔 not when he fucks you stupid like that.

I just had to put the thought out there 🫣

i feel like the gif of the soccer dudes hugging each other and sobbing rn if that makes sense /pos

toxic bf!jaehyun is terrible at the whole relationship thing. he doesn’t have any boundaries for himself as he lets everyone get close to him, even encouraging it as he initiates flirting despite holding your waist right beside him. it drives you nuts that he’s doing it all in front of you, but he doesn’t mind it at all. but if the roles were switched, he wouldn’t even want to hear a single word as he drags you with him by the wrist after spitting venomous words to the other man, throwing you into his car’s backseat. the tiny space isn’t a problem as he almost rips your panties off, fucking right into you despite it hurting a bit from not being prepared. jaehyun wouldn’t want to hear you complain, just telling you to “shut up and take it” and “this is what you get for trying to talk to other men”. he might even take it across the lines of cheating, saying stuff like “what did you expect for trying to cheat on me?” as you just try to explain that you were just talking and that’s it. he’s making up scenarios and things that never happened as he thrusts faster, masking his insecurities by projecting everything onto you, but he hits your spot every time which makes you let you muffled moans and almost screams. if anyone walked past his car, they’d know instantly what’s going on, and that made you get even more worked up and aroused. the situation oddly turned you on, and as jaehyun pulls out to cum in your mouth, his fingers keep pushing in to your plush walls to have you cum with him. “you’re all mine,” he’d say as he makes you swallow his load, quickly cleaning himself up before heading back out and leaving you panting in the backseat.

[static-x3]

-Static Blog Masterpost-

This is a Roleplay and Ask account for my (mod, @stormbreaker-290) Original Characters, Static and Morgan.

They both live together in a nice little house out in a forest roughly 20 minutes away from the nearest town.

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Static talks "Like this"

Morgan talks "Like this"

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General things and Boundaries:

Feel free to ask them just about anything!! Most things go, but try to at least keep em respectful.

Hate/rage bait asks are accepted when directed towards my characters, but only when out of love of the game (current events and angst) and not genuine hate of them.

Mod swears like a motherfucking sailor, and this is not refrained from in characters either.

There will be some suggestive/explicit implied content. I always try to tag properly, so if you don't want to see this, kindly block the suggestive warning tags.

I will not engage in any full on NSFW roleplays here. I am not comfortable doing something like that publicly.

I am slow. I take my time formulating responses, and appreciate not being rushed. I have things to do outside of roleplays, and my motivation can be finicky at times.

That being said, I am also forgetful. If you do think I've forgotten about an ongoing rp thread, feel free to @ me or message me a reminder, I don't bite. Usually/silly

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Static and Morgan's backstory

Official Static Playlist

Static and Morgan Refs TBA

↓ More info and used tags under the cut ↓

Static is bisexual, polyamorous, and genderfluid. Their pronouns are he/she/they

Morgan is asexual, demi-panromantic, and nonbinary. His pronouns are he/they

Static and Morgan are partners in a very... non-label fitting way. It's not romantic or sexual, but they're so impeccably closer than just friends. They've lived and died together, seen the worst of eachothers hearts, and the height of their happiness. They're not definable by family, queerplatonic is close, but the best way they could possibly describe each other is "home".

Static is romantic partners with @malwaresilly (Malware and Solaris), @n0va-st3lluna, and Sirius the nursery attendant (who's blog is currently taken over Lore wise at the moment, and will be properly @-ed afterwards)

Static has a Daughter with Malware and Solaris conceived of magic, named Holo.

Morgan shares a pet Ferret named Milktoast with Scone ( @crumpet-doodles )

Static and Morgan are currently having Astraia ( @multifandomcutie13 ) stay over at their place for a prolonged period of time.

Tags:

#ooc rambles < exactly what it sounds like, used for most out of character posts

#mod draws < used along with my main's art tag, for any doodles I may post here

#mod writes < same as above but with any written drabbles I may cook up

#rp tag < used for every roleplay

#ask static < asks answered by Static

#ask morgan < asks answered by Morgan

#static the beloved < used for just about everything Static, including asks, rps, and other related posts

#morgan the beloved < used for just about everything Morgan, including asks, rps, and other related posts

pretty much all character interactions are tagged with "#[character] beloved" or "#[character] my beloved"

When they're not, it will be either "#[character] my beloathed" or "#[character] my detested" or just the other parties character tag (< The latter doesnt mean they're necessarily hated, just not categorized yet)

...the one outlier in this is "#Titan the tolerated" . Because it's funny.

I use any content warning tags where applicable, though the most reoccurring ones are:

#tw suggestive

#tw slightly suggestive

#tw very suggestive

#tw violence

^ if any of these actually bother you, do yourself a favor and block those tags. (Along with the "cw" versions as well) you are responsible for curating your own experience, and all we can do is warn you of the contents of our content. Please don't come at me, or anyone else, over harmless rp fun that might've made you uncomfortable. The block button exists for a reason.

[angstfactory]

It was easy to see that Winter wasn't exactly comfortable himself, trying to explain any of this. And Tripps even felt he was overly concerned about what he might think or feel about it, too. Why he cared what a guy he could barely remember may consider of this, he wasn't sure. "Honestly, screw what I feel?" he said, a bit amazed by the selflessness of it. "I'm not the one who lost his memory in some freak accident, having to keep post-its on every surface of my life to keep myself straight. Clearly, you've got your own things to worry about, so forget about how I'm doing."

Besides... Tripps wasn't necessarily uncomfortable. He was bothered, sure, but only about his own shitty behavior and how dismissive he'd been. It embarrassed him. Quite frankly, he was shocked Winter had bothered to tolerate him at all, let alone bring him back to the house to prove himself.

He watched as Winter leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, looking as if the entire world was on his shoulders despite how he tried to dismiss how 'used to this' he was. Maybe, the guy was used to all of it, but that didn't make any of it better. "I don't know man, this..." Tripps came forward, unable not to feel sorry for him, "this all kinda does sound miserable." He knew, from his own personal history, that Winter might not appreciate the pity or want it. But it wasn't like he was able to shut off compassion like some type of switch.

Winter was going through a really fucked up thing. Alone. That part, was what bothered him the most, actually.

"Christ, Win, why aren't your parents here?" Tripps shook his head. "Look, I get that you're able to function and get around on your own, but whatever happened to you..." and whatever that was, he still had no idea, as Winter was being rather tight-lipped weirdly, about that in-specific. "It was clearly something serious, and I can't believe they've just left you here to go through it all by yourself anyway." Now that he was looking at him, like really looking, he could see the paleness and fatigue in Winter, the sag in his shoulders. Quite a difference from the bright and cheeky guy from two years ago, that drank a little too much and threw caution to the wind in a random hook-up.

"I didn't say I want to leave, chill." Winter had said this a number of times now, actually. That Tripps could go, he would understand. Tripps already knew he was able to split any second he felt like it. And honestly? Something like this normally probably would have scared him off and been too much to bother with, even in a bedroom buddies kind of way. So, he wasn't even sure why he hadn't left himself, either. He just hadn't.

Maybe there was a part of him that understood, or sensed, that Winter wouldn't want to be alone. Tripps had felt that too, before. He knew what it was like to have to pretend everything was okay when it actually wasn't.

"So.." Tripps paused, fingers stroking through the short strands of hair at the back of his head as he considered Winter, the notes, and the room itself at large. Trying to figure out what to do, before ultimately deciding to attempt to inject some levity back in before he stressed Winter further. The guy had enough on his plate. "Forget the bees," he said then, forcing a more casual and teasing tone once more, coming to stand before Winter. "I've been here for ten minutes already, and you haven't once offered me a beverage or given me the grand tour... Some host."

Things had shifted. Whereas before Tripps had been joking around with him, had seemed so loose and carefree, now he was tense and rigid, like he was upset about something. And Winter thought he knew why. For a moment, he just stood there looking at the man, still surprised by his sudden change in demeanor, but Winter didn't really know why. They probably only knew each other peripherally, and Winter had laid a lot on him. "I know it's a lot," Winter said sheepishly, looking at the floor and sighing as he ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on it a little. It was a lot, clearly too much, and Winter wished he'd somehow covered up how bad it was. Maybe he shouldn't have brought Tripps here; maybe it would have been better if Winter had let him believe that he was being coy. Another moment passed in silence, and then Winter had to say something. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable," he apologized. "I'm acting like we're close friends who share private, intimate details of our lives, but I'm...probably just some guy you know casually. And I just dropped so much on you." Winter wished he could go back in time and change the way this whole interaction had gone.

"I saw a doctor after it happened," Winter told Tripps. "They did scans of my brain, all kinds of tests, I talked to specialists, but no one could figure it out." Because it's magic, he thought, though Winter didn't say that. "I think this is just life for me now," he answered Tripps. "But it's not like I'm miserable. I've got a lot of good things in my life, and I'm used to this now. I manage well enough, though I know it's overwhelming. I'm sorry again." Winter sighed once more, and he added, "It's okay that you don't like bees, and it's okay if you do like them or feel neutral and just want to go. I'm not going to be mad at you if you leave. I get it." Winter leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead, thinking about how all of this was his fault.

[ryuudraws]

A break from training

[sleepinglionhearts]

Comics about work

[azonewithu]

These stupid fuckn goof morons who know fuck sll pretty much about anything think theyte never hoing yo florida again. Like snyone but snyone in the ypurist industry cares where these dip shits go. Go to fuckn greenland and try the fuckn winter out there assholes. Well i beat their stupid punk asses againntoo. The only readon they get sny good weather is becausevim here. No people font like the rich or toronto or the fuckn rich anywhere for that matter. Oh i hope they smarten ip big time or their gonna just start gonna get murdered left right n centre fuck your politocs your charities your adses period we say. Theres millions of us we ll hunt diwn Emna Watdon and kill anyone like i dog. Yeah i skipped that part of the useless fuvkn binke on purpose ill trll them then kill them. I am Death anyone else is ki d of just on ny pmanet gor a minuts im not in anyones workd youre sll on my fuckn llanet. But you know why this is Emma uour like yhat nice old lady i sawvon the subwsy. Same type of person. Which is better than being nany people you neet in your daily life. Its not like youre a crazy rich evil ouece of God Dsmnned dog dhit like a lit if people. They think theyll escspe me themsts the fuckn funniest lart. Nah i wslk by poor peopke they bow thrir heads they live ne. Mid clads peopkd yoo admitted on the internet you live ne i velieve you now. Who voukdnt love ne ill fuck anykne up no one wants to admit thats a livesbke trait. Not evrn in tv do any if theee fuckn notons fo as well as one of my posts. Theyd have yo livd a hindred lifetimes yo write kike Gid. The fuckn sevond rate idiots that they all are. Oh they can kerp trying and keep dying. Everytime i come im noticed i dtand out theyre prettyy much all the sane which sint no fuvkn complimebt. You know theyre fuckn scum bags dont evrn argue eith je. Inherebtky evil is the best two words yo desctibe them. You think i should ket them live? You think this is a big math game at the end soneones getting a prize for putting up great numbers in any way. Nope the prize is life itself and a middle finger to the fuckn face. You all list fighting je si no knes that great and i wanna hear say it on the fucon tv for once. Or im going yo hhrt you people horribly. Anywsy Emma uoure much PRETTIER version of that nice old kady. If i ever saw tiuband told yiu im killing all these peopke snd murfered all the ones before gor good fuckn reason. Not kids like you or people whose death wouldnt matter at all. I kill big game. Otber somdiers. Police officers. Tich assholes who deserve to be murdered. Tye binkes commandments fo not apply to kne of the originsl authors. I can cutse anykbe period im the end all be all of heaven. Im just here killing as an example to all. You ate not going yo maje it very far as a race info the future do i woildnt wirry lije a typical woman like every little fuvkn detail. Be hspoy i like you and fudnt fuvkn murder you like all those other useless to the grester universe mother fuckers. I font get harder or better sobthis oost pretty kuch crushes anything any rat monkey ever fuckn wrote. And these ate just notes youve never seen much if my reslky goid eriting. I stand by you font know any hen like ne we re rate and yhe nen you know sre fuckn chumps. Chimos theyd piss their fucon osnts if they saw me. I liked that uh lerks movue better thsn circke fuckn jerk. Thougb uoubwere goid in it. Bling ri g wasnt reslly eorth a shit its ok, gir a ine wstch and you were the beat thing about it. Maybe the guy fud a good job but i hiess like kidsvthat agebitvwas just a meanlingless emding tgst fidnt go with tge rest if tye movie. A realky watch ince snd forget did type of movie. I am a killer critic sometimes. But when oeople try thatvwith je their house goes up in flames. Font criticize Archs youre spes compared yo us and you know notvwhat you do. Oh slne asdholes are gettinf murdered here in toronto i iwn southern ontario now all if it. Ill kill anykbe i want hete. The cops terrifued of ne niw. I call up the police station and tell their stupud iunk ass city is fucked.

[inthismomentyouareloved]

you connected the static song to wally darling too?! omg :0

YEAH!!! Did you also? :o Thought there were so many parallels between the Miku in the song and Wally...

Audience companion from a [lost/forgotten] children's television show, from the latter half of the 1900s, who is (very) attached to the viewer, associated with the color red, THE EYES!! THE WHOLE THING ABOUT THE EYES!!, things not being as they should, the isolation themes ... how they just want to be your friend...

[lumiereandcogsworth]

this is kinda vague cause I don’t have any specific question in mind but can you talk about lumiere and adam’s relationship? just ,, anything about them? cause lemme tell youuuuuuuu something 🫵🏻 I think about that fic where he performs a magic trick for little adam all the time

SCREAM!!! the fact that you think about that fic so much makes me SO HAPPY😭 i ADORE adam & lumi’s relationship so YES LET’S GET INTO IT BABEY!

for starters, i headcanon that they’re 11 years apart. i did this because dan stevens and ewan mcgregor are 11 years apart, lmao. but i also think it makes sense! so i didn’t feel like altering that.

they met when adam was 4, and lumiere was hired as a 15-year-old footman. i think they liked each other instantly. lumiere’s jovial/loud/playful personality perfectly filled in all the gaps of adam’s terrible shyness. queen renée liked him, (she was only like. 6-7 years older than him) and he reminded her of her own younger brothers, whom she dearly missed. this helped adam trust lumiere quicker, as lumiere ended up spending extra time with him.

like in the fic you’re referring to, lumiere quickly picked up on how regularly adam needed to be rescued. mrs. potts filled him in on the severity of the situation here, and how it’s been like this since he was born, so lumiere became pretty protective of adam. he’d try to distract him and pull him out of reality as much as he could. cogsworth was always on the fence about it, because on the one hand, he wants to follow the rules and obey the king’s orders that servants aren’t supposed to be friendly with the family. but on the other hand, he cared about little adam too, and he was glad, in THIS case, that lumiere was so good at being sneaky

a couple years later, plumette joined the crew as a young maid. lumi fell for her INSTANTLY, and they became besties very quickly. she, too, of course, felt so badly for the little prince. she also became trusted by queen renée (who was alwaaysss rooting for those two — she’d get their schedules rearranged so they could work together or get days off together, and even find secret rooms to allow them alone time. she’s the OG plumiere shipper😤)

ANYWAY, my point there is that lumi and plumette very much became the big brother & sister that adam very much needed. they both played with him as much as they could. they’d go for walks with him in the garden when his mother was occupied, they’d race boats across the pond. lumiere would give him piggy back rides around the castle and adam would actually laugh sometimes!! he was so,., not very expressive as a kid. especially not happy emotions. so it always melted their hearts when they could hear his precious little giggle🥹

i’ve mentioned this before i think, but for birthdays and christmas and such, queen renée would send lum and plum to paris to get gifts for adam, since she was often not permitted to leave without the king🙃

lumiere also taught adam how to play chess!!!!! he also taught him some “special moves” (cheating) that guarantee (he’s cheating) victory every time😎 (he taught him how to cheat because beating cogsworth is funny). but he still knows (and never forgets!!!) the basics!!

when the queen got sick… ough. everyone was just trying to take care of adam as much as they could. which wasn’t enough At All, but it was all they could do. and when she died? OUGHDKFJSKJ!!!!!!!! adam was 9 (and a half), lumiere was 20. everyone (except the king 🤬🔪) is very very very sad.

adam would have really really awful nightmares, following her death. he’d wake up screaming and sweating and panicking. he’d cry and just entirely be unable to calm down. lumiere soon learned about this and started sneaking to the west wing at night and sleeping in the hallway outside of his room. and then when he’d hear adam wake up, he’d come in and try to soothe him best he could. he’d climb onto the bed and sit beside him and hold him tight until the crying turned to whimpering. adam would mumble “where is she? where’s mama? i want mama” and lumiere would shush him gently and try to keep him calm and pet his hair, telling him to go back to sleep.

the king soon found out about this (he had too many RATS working for him😤) and forbade it, putting a guard outside adam’s room so no one was allowed in during the night. (and sometimes louis would force him to stay in there during the day too! if he was being particularly difficult (having autistic meltdowns or just in general Being An Autistic And Depressed Child) and no one could control him🙃)

anywaaayyyyyy this is the beginning of the many cracks and fractures that would come to their friendship. adam is sent to boarding school in the fall and he just gets more closed off, angry, sad, you name it! from here. it’s not a 180 flip though. the first few years when he comes home for breaks, he’s still drawn to lumi & plum and still leans on them. i have a sweet fic from when he was 11 that’s 🥹🤧 a precious moment amidst the terribleness. and it’s more lumi doing card tricks!! hehe!! he’s an entertainer, what can i say?🤩

by the time he’s a teenager though there’s basically nothing between them. his father beat him enough times to Stop Talking To Them that he just finally gave up trying. and when his father dies just before adam turned 16, it’s all a mess. adam’s completely cold with all of them. he’s been away most of the time the last 6 years because of school so when he does come back and Stay at the castle, he just really makes it his domain. he invites all the awful friends he’s made in the cities, he creates his corrupt and awful court, he indulges and drowns in his self-loathing. all that good stuff 🙃

and where does it leave lumiere? heartbroken with the rest of the gang. feeling like they failed him. which is so hard because it’s like!!! they did as much as they COULD. if they did any more, if they were less sneaky, less careful, they’d have lost their livelihoods! and they couldn’t risk losing their work OR leaving adam to truly fend for himself. so they settled for the brief moments they could each spend with him, desperately hoping it would be enough for him to turn out like his mother, instead of his father😭

but of course. we know how the story goes. during the curse it’s interesting because he’s just stuck with them. like there’s no other people he could distract himself with. he’s stuck with them!!! and he clearly still listens to them, at least to a degree. i really love the scene where he sees a place setting for belle at the table and he gets PISSED and yells “LUMIERE!!!!!!!!!” and goes to talk to him. and he’s all pissy and grumpy but he’s still talking to him!! and cogsworth!! and mrs. potts!! it’s just so complicated!!!! like it’s not like he’s FORGOTTEN how much they meant to him, it’s just that his mind and heart are so DEEPLY clouded by the trauma of growing up with his father and the anger that he still feels for him, and himself! because of him! AGHGHH!!!

but you know what scene kicks so much ass??? THE ADAM & LUMIERE HUG!!!!!!!!!!! i’ve already perfectly elaborated on it here, and idk if i’ll ever be able to elaborate on it again because it usually just makes me go GJSKFHWKDHWKDHSKSJ!!!!!!!!!!! but that hug is just. CRAZY. “HELLO OLD FRIEND” ??????? i’m gonna throw myself into the sun. adam calling lumiere his old friend is genuinely one of the reasons i fell so FREAKING hard for this film seven years ago. what a line. what a scene. THE IMPLICATIONS OF IT ALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! adam’s cold heart is thawed and is full of LOVE and he HUGS HIS OLD FRIEND, THE ONE WHO WAS LIKE A BROTHER TO HIM, THE ONE WHO PLAYED WITH HIM AND WIPED HIS TEARS AND HELD HIM WHEN HE JUST WANTED THE WORLD TO SWALLOW HIM WHOLE. THATS HIS OLD FRIEND!!!! ADAM LOVES LUMIERE SO SO SO MUCH 😭😭😭

gosh… anyway, as a last, lovely, note. they of course become such best friends. after the curse, they have a couple deep talks that are so Good for them both, but especially adam. and adam learns how to confide in him, how to trust him again. they play billiards and pass the time! they play chess and adam “wins” and lumiere’s like hey dude i thought we AGREED we were only gonna use those moves on COGSWORTH!!! also lumiere becomes his valet for many years, so they’re just always chattin about one thing or another. (it’s usually court gossip though. lumiere being a servant has ALL THE TEA☕️).

they become fathers together, their children grow up together. heck! they become fathers-in-LAW together!! juliette ends up marrying lumiere & plumette’s eldest son, sebastian!!! :”) (and reecy & their younger child xavier are BEST FRIENDS😤 which is also VERY IMPORTANT‼️) their families are just forever intertwined. even before the marriage, they really are family. in a modern suburban au, i just KNOW they’d be neighbors having barbecues at each other’s houses all summer 🤧 anyway it’s just so beautiful man!! adam and lumiere just have such an important bond. they’ve Truly been through thick and thin. it’s such a sweet love, to have a friend as wonderful as they have in each other 🥹

[reminiscentrainclouds]

You guys ever feel trapped? Yea I'm well-acquainted with the feeling of being trapped.

[transslyblue]

it is dangerous to promote unverified fundraisers! marryum-aljabill/Murryum Al Jabill/Marryum Al Jabill is a scammer. they previously linked to a known scam paypal account, and then edited their paypal link out of their post once people caught on

what's more, the only pictures posted on their gogetfunding link are taken from these three articles

https://www.timesofisrael.com/uk-charities-urge-government-to-welcome-gazans-with-family-ties-in-britain/ https://www.channelnewsasia.com/world/israel-hamas-war-gaza-talks-truce-ramadan-mossad-netanyahu-4184131 https://dppa.un.org/en/un-chief-calls-israel-to-spare-civilians-more-suffering-gaza

https://www.tumblr.com/justforyouu/753745959576535040/this-is-a-scam-this-user-has-not-been-vetted-by?source=share

would you mind deleting their scam from your blog, or clearly labeling it as a scam so it doesn't spread to others?

please familiarize yourself with the posts of some current scammers while they are still under these usernames: fancystudentyouth, smwitais, glitteryfesthaks, tacofriends, millicah, mallycahs-blog, holiyfarrtfatuma, nuttydestinieallli, dutfullydeepdreamlland, beatriceegiveer, nako700, marryum-aljabill, kawaiipeachpainter, burningvoidbird, chieffurygiver

i really recommend looking at their pinned posts in order to better recognize scams, not just using this list as a blocklist, because once they are terminated they each will immediately remake their scams under a new username

I literally didn't know.

I don't have the energy, time, or knowledge to verify every single gofundme and donation link. So I am no longer going to reblog any of them unless it's a master post of them.

If I get any asks about sharing donation links, I'm sorry. I'm not going to and will delete the asks because I literally can not verify it. Again, at this point I'm only going to reblog long master posts of verified donation links.

[tfasiren]

tfuc returns to mind one final time I NEVER EVER TALKED ABOUT THE WRECKERS I NEVER TALKED ABOUT THOSE CHARACTERS THATS FUCKED UPPPP i never shared anything abt springer or whirl or moonracer wtfffff I NEVER SHARED THE SPRINGER AND TARN DYNAMIC WHAT WAS I THINKINGGGG

[indefiniteavatar]

So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.

I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.