#👻 my beloved

[xiaoluclair]

20. Clumsy attempts at flirting

and/or

29. Visiting their home for the first time

Lestappen pretty please!! ❤️ thanking you and loving you endlessly!

live scenes of me visiting your house for the first time under the cut

clumsy flirting attempts + first home visit // lestappen // [ rating: T ]

"You have," proclaims Charles, "the most gregarious set of spoons."

Max sort of wants to run him over with a significantly large bus. Or kiss him silly. His father looks like he does not know what to do. Is, for once, terribly out of his depth. Fuck, maybe Max does want to kiss him silly. Charles, that is, not—

"Thank you," his dad lands on before Max can offer a trip to the local depot or scar his old man brain with things far from P and–or G.

"And your cabinets!" continues Charles, banging into said cabinets with his enthusiasm, "almost as — ow —luminescent as your eyes." He practically leaps over to the faucet to twist it on until steam starts fitting itself to the window behind. “Gosh!” because Max brought home a 1775 housewife, "and this water, almost as hot as," his eyes slant to Max’s dad. Or, the fire hydrant that has replaced Max’s dad.

Max takes pity on him. "We will be going upstairs now," he announces. His dad makes a face like an agreeable sauerkraut. Charles follows Max with a wave and a wink over his shoulder and Max seriously weighs the benefits of murder versus jail time.

"What the fuck was that?" is what he says instead after the door has shut. "Actually, I know what that was — why the fuck was that?"

"Hmm?" replies Charles. "This is you and your sister?"

"Do not ‘hmm’ me — yeah, first time rock climbing — and could stop being nosy and answer me."

With a great, heaving sigh, like it physically pains him to do so, Charles turns around on the spot and takes his face out of Max’s shelves. He is grinning. Rubbing his hip and grinning. "I did nothing."

Max lets his head fall to one side. Hopes it conveys something along the lines of what a load of bull.

"Really," insists wide–eyed Charles, "I was just making a good first impression." He is trying to adopt a straight face and failing horrendously. His mouth is puckering like he is biting his own lip. Max is this close to biting it himself. He might if No grievous bodily harm was not #7 on the Fake Boyfriend: Conditions Of Use list.

"Just because you think he was a bit of a dick sometimes—"

Charles snorts.

"—more than sometimes," corrects Max, "he is still my dad. Plus, he is generally nicer now."

"I just think he could have been generally nicer a bit sooner," is the genial reply.

"Next time," huffs Max, "I am asking Lando."

Charles harrumphs. "Then have fun dealing with your 'boyfriend' eating nothing but baked chicken and granny dodgers."

He looks so smug. He looks so smug, Max wants to strangle him with the silly Ferrari bedsheets he’s had since he was thirteen. "Okay, first, no more terrible—" Max’s nose wrinkles and his stomach rebels violently, "flirting with my dad."

Charles smirks. Leers in a way that makes Max question if he is still fully clothed. "You think you could do better?"

Max shrugs. "At least I would know not to call his spoons gregarious."

"Prove it," retorts Charles. "Tell daddy his spoons are not gregarious." And then he gestures to himself.

"Are you my daddy," asks Max, "or the spoons?"

"Clearly," says Charles, "I am your daddy—"

Just as there is a knock on the door. Only after he has opened it does Max realize his mouth feels like something out of unforgiving sun. A dried leaf, curled up and into itself. He throws a thumb into it to rub it down into something less… manic.

"Your mum and sister will be here by six," his dad says. He looks mildly traumatised. Max wonders how much he heard. “They are excited to meet your... boyfriend." Probably more than he wanted to, if the way he cannot look at Max for longer than two seconds is any indication. "And the tank is full for you both to shower."

"Oh, thank you," says Charles normally. Max fails to take advantage of the sweet second of relief from the universe before: "Would you mind showing me how it works? I have always been quite a... visual learner."

Max has always wanted a bus anyway.

[saradiation]

Aradia 🖤 

[xiaoluclair]

I FINALLY REMEMBERED WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY. i want to see charles ride max’s thighs. like that would be hot. are there any fics of that. i need it PRIMALLY.

SPICY ANON HAS RETURNED FROM THE BATTLEFIELD! ✨

And you’ve come bearing the thoughts and dreams of the truly enlightened. You, my dear, are being welcomed in with open arms.

@xiaoluclair whip out the WIP, time to revive thigh fic. There is a primal need, PRIMAL, it’s our duty! 🙏🏻🧎‍♀️🏛️

In terms of posted fics I can’t say I recall one that’s got Charles going to town on his man’s delicious thighs. I’ve been very slack reading but I’m certain some exist, we must find them! 🕵️‍♀️

[strawberryspence]

this one's for my cassie banana (@henderdads) who wanted a HAPPY grammy related ficlet. but because i wrote it, of course there's going to be a tiniest hint of angst. 🙄 ily and i hope this satisfies ur craving 💗🌷🏆

-

As a gay, rock star in the late 90's, Eddie's had to keep his and Steve's relationship under the wraps. He's had to sing songs and change the pronouns from he to she.

In his heart, he knows Steve doesn't mind, knows that he understands that this is the life his boyfriend chose. But Eddie hates it, hates that he can't scream on top of his lungs, on top of the highest mountains, that he loves Steve Harrington and he, miraculously, loves him back.

As Eddie stares at the wall of awards in front of him, he thinks— knows— that not one of these gold, silver, bronze awards mean as much as Steve means to him. No award is as important as the love of his life.

People still remember the Grammy Awards on 2001. No, it's not because of the famous singers. No, it's not because of the performances. No, it's not because of their outfits.

It's because the singer-songwriter of rock band, Corroded Coffin, won their fifth grammy award and what they thought was a normal award speech would change the course of the industry.

Eddie walks up alone, accepts the award and smiles.

"Well, the band— Gareth, Jeff and Grant— has trusted me enough to do this speech without fucking it up." He laughs as he hugs the award closer to his chest.

"Thank you to the recording academy, our managers and our label, for the last 10 years. The last 10 years has been crazy and amazing and surreal. But just this morning," Eddie takes a deep breath, "We— Me and the members of the Corroded Coffin— has decided to move labels. Somewhere we'll be free to express ourselves and be out true colorful selves."

"So yeah, thank you for them and the chance. But this award," Eddie holds it up, "Is for every gay kid who was scared and who thought they were alone. It's for every gay kid who thought they will never, ever get to express themselves and thought they'll have to hide forever."

The audience starts cheering, people clapping and standing as Eddie smiles, bulldozes on, "This grammy is for little Eddie Munson, Gareth Emerson, Jeff Best and Paul Grant. Four gay kids, in the middle of Hawkins, Indiana, just finding each other. We're Corroded Coffin and we're the proof that you could also be free and true to yourself."

"To my boyfriend. Yes, my boyfriend. Every she in every song I wrote was originally an he. Every word and tune was meant to be for you. Sweetheart, baby, you are my whole heart. Steve Harrington, I fucking love you. This fucking grammy is for you."

He holds up the award as he starts walking back to the back of the stage. The people in the crowd give him a standing ovation.

Somewhere in New York, there's a boy, who once survived death himself, smiling and beaming so hard it hurts his jaw. He'll call Eddie later, and thank him for what he's done for people like them. He'll sleep peacefully, knowing that a few kids will sleep better tonight, knowing that everything is going to be okay.

Somewhere in LA, there's a girl, sitting on the couch with a cold champagne and confetti in her hands, waiting for Eddie and Steve to come home. She'll kiss both their cheeks, happy to have them both home. They'll drink, cheer and celebrate being out to the whole world.

But before that, just behind the curtains, a man is waiting for him, with the biggest smile on his face and tears streaming down his face.

Eddie greets him with a smile, and an earth shattering kiss on the lips.

"I am proud of you." Steve says, and Eddie melts in his touch.

"I can sing with boy pronouns now. I am going to be so insufferable." Eddie laughs.

"You go do that, be what the world needs." Steve laughs, hooking his arms with his boyfriend, walking deeper in to backstage.

"What about what you need?" Eddie asks, looking at the man beside him, the one who saved him and who's still saving him.

Steve smiles, holding Eddie's free hand and intertwining it. There's people walking around them, but they're in their own little world. For the first time, they're not hiding.

Steve holds up Eddie's hand, "I've got everything I need right here."

[applejongho]

a saga in four parts, meet boo bear (act scared so he knows he's fearful and terrifying!)

(free :D) pattern

[deadprincezzz]

🎁20 anniversary!!🎶🎉

[jooovial]

sentimentalist 🐇

[lalunanymph]

bro hatefuck w rin bro bro bro bro

GOD JUST *bites on knuckles*

him pushing you against the wall, taking what's his - fucking RIPPING your panties off so roughly you can feel the fabric burn for days. he's so so nasty with his words, degrades and humiliates you in one breath. but imagine if you were his rival... bro would want to destroy you ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ leave you crying, feeling him for days. will pretend like you're the dirt on his shoe but comes crawling back the next day for round 3. would probably combust if you started to take the lead - push him down the bed, manhandle him... rin would def fight back at first but he finds that he likes giving you control ... after all, you make it feel so good for him even as he finds it harder to hold onto his hateful pride <33

[ghulehthezombiequeen]

Die With A Smile - Copia x male ghost oc

buckle up y'all part 2 is coming in hot and she's THICK

warnings/things to note: this fic series is Copia x MY OC, not reader. he's a ghost, so mentions of death, abandonment, heartbreak, angst all around really plus more angst this chapter

word count: 2723

Chapter 2 - Ethereal Tears

Copia couldn't focus. 

All he could think about was Ren. He was unable to sleep no matter how hard he tried, tossing and turning in his bed as he mentally scolded himself for leaving him in the graveyard so soon. 

Finally, at around 3 in the morning, he couldn't take it anymore. He got up and grabbed a cloak, slipping it over his pajamas and heading straight out of the castle. Before he left, he stared at his gloves.

 Maybe…

He slid them on hastily before quickly walking out towards the graveyard.

Soft crying could be heard, yet Ren was nowhere to be seen when Copia entered. Ren was hiding behind yet another headstone, curled into a ball and weeping into his hands. No tears fell, just pure, raw, painfully quiet sobs. 

Copia's heart shattered in his chest. 

He had a sneaking suspicion that he was crying and it pained him, oh how much it pained him to hear Ren’s quiet sobs. 

He slowly walked in the direction of the headstone, moving quietly through the rows of tombstones so as to not startle him. 

His hands itched from the desperate urge to touch him, to hold him and wipe away his tears.

He finally arrives in the row where Ren was hiding behind the headstone, a feeling of dread forming in his gut as he took in the sight of him crying. 

"Ren," he called out softly, as if his voice would rip in two from the sheer amount of wanting he had. "Please... look at me," he whispers, his heart aching for the ghost. “What’s wrong, my dove?”

"It's nothing," Ren sniffled, lifting his head. His white eyes were glassy, his cheeks glossy from the ethereal tears. "It's just my curse..."

Copia's heart ached when he saw Ren’s glossy cheeks and glassy eyes. He wanted nothing more than to brush his knuckles against the other’s skin, to run his fingers through his silvery-brown hair like he had longed to. 

He huffs out a quiet, bitter laugh before replying, "A curse, dove? What kind of curse do you have?"

Ren sits up a little more properly, wiping his face with his hand. "Every night, I must weep... for the lost souls. Those that have been buried in here, this cemetery… yet have not found mercy in their eternal punishment. I cannot leave... I'm stuck." 

Copia frowns and his gaze softens, full of sympathy for the ghost. "You cannot... move on..." he murmurs, watching as Ren wiped his face. 

He swallows, his heart clenching again. "You have to... cry... every night- for all of these poor, lost, unforgiven souls." He says this quietly, barely audible.

"What kind of cruel fate is that... to not only be stuck here- in this graveyard, but forced to be in pain... every day, every night..." He mutters this quietly, almost as if talking to himself, trying to wrap his head around Ren’s punishment.

"I... I was too young to be eternally punished when I died, yet not pure enough to be spared," Ren whispered. "I was told.. never to leave the grounds. But I want- I want to see the world; I want to explore.. that is also why I weep." 

Copia's heart sinks.

He swallows audibly, trying to push back his sorrow, sadness, and empathy for Ren. Yet, he couldn't help but reach out and instinctively try to touch his cheek.

This time, Copia's glove does touch Ren's pale face, and was immediately met with the freezing temperature of his cold body. Ren blinked, his brow furrowing. 

"You're... touching me... but how?"

He had instinctively reached out to touch Ren’s cheek, his fingers desperately trying to soothe away the other’s tears, when they met the freezing cold of his skin. Copia lets out a quiet shaky breath, his fingertips running down his cheek. He had never touched a ghost before. He had never even thought about what it would be like. Yet now, he'd gotten such a small taste, and he wanted more. More, and more, and more.

He didn't care that touching Ren’s skin was like touching an ice block- no, he didn't care one bit. As long as he could touch him, even if it was only for a brief second. 

And he doesn't withdraw his hand either, letting it still rest on Ren’s freezing cold skin as he looks deep into the other’s glassy eyes.

The warmth radiating off Copia's glove stirred Ren's insides, causing him to cry again. Phantom tears rolled onto the leather of Copia's glove, dissolving into the air once they came in contact with the fibers. 

"It- it's been so long... I'd forgotten what it felt like to be touched..." Ren whispered through quiet sobs. "You're so warm..." 

Copia's heart aches.

Too goddamn long. 

His hand trembles as he continues to touch Ren’s cheek, feeling how cold and soft his face is under his touch. 

"I-" he swallows hard and lets out a shuddering breath, his own eyes stinging in the corners. "You're cold, maledizione, you're so cold and pale and beautiful... precious, my precious dove..."

He continues to slowly caress Ren’s cheek with his gloved hand, wanting nothing more than to pull him into his arms and warm him with his body. 

"I don't care if you're cold, I don't care if touching you feels like touching a block of ice. All I care about is you, my dove.” He whispers, his voice wavering slightly.

"No," Ren says, pulling away abruptly even though his heart ached. "No, this... this cannot happen... I won't let it..." 

Copia lets his hand drop as Ren yanks himself away from him. He feels like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head, feeling the sudden loss of Ren’s cold skin. 

"This... this can happen.." he says through gritted teeth, reaching out in an attempt to grab him. "Damn it, Ren, what do you mean..?!"

"I cannot give you what you desire, human," Ren sobbed, standing up. "I am cursed. I cannot- I don't know what I can or cannot do anymore, but... I will lose you too... and I cannot bear to lose another." 

Copia stands up as well, taking a step towards Ren and reaching out. He doesn't care if it'll be like trying to grab smoke, he needs him to be back in his reach. 

"You won't, you won't lose me- I won't let you," he grits out, his eyes narrowing. "You can't be scared- dove, you can't be scared of me-"

He moves towards Ren suddenly and grips his shoulders, keeping him in place. "Don't be scared, don't be scared, it's me. You know me, you've seen me a thousand times. Don't push me away, I beg of you. Don't leave me here alone." Copia's voice breaks, and the desperation in it is clear.

Ren tenses, more of his ethereal tears streaming down his face. His ghostly presence flickers as he tries to keep his composure.

"But I don't even know your name," he whispered, his lip trembling. 

Copia swallows hard and lets his hands travel up Ren’s shoulders, all the way up his face until it is cradled in his gloved hands. 

"Copia. My name is Cardinal Copia," and by god, he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss Ren’s cold lips and hold him and warm him with his body.

He gently brushes away the tears from Ren’s cheeks without looking away from his glittering, glassy eyes, and moves closer as he speaks, moving one of his hands to the nape of Ren’s neck. 

"Don't forget my name," he whispers, his fingers moving up to thread through Ren’s silvery-brown hair. "Don't you dare forget my name, my dove."

Ren could only sob in response, fear and sorrow and yearning washing over him. His pale hands gently hovered over Copia's gloved ones, his milky white eyes taking in Copia's face. "I won't.."

"No, don’t cry… don’t cry, dove, shh…" Copia attempts to sooth Ren, though his own emotions quickly become a mess.

"I cannot... kiss you, hug you, hold you... I cannot feel your skin without... without a pure substance in the way to buffer," Ren sniffled. "You have to understand, I-I can only touch pure metals... and mixed fibers.." 

Copia's breath stutters and gets caught in his chest as Ren’s words sink into his head. 

He'd thought about kissing him , holding him, hugging him, and more many times. He'd imagined it over and over again, imagined what it would be like to have his cold, fragile body in his arms. He'd even dreamt of it all, but- 

"You cannot..." he echoed quietly, his hands stilling, "you cannot touch flesh?"

Ren nodded sadly. 

Copia swallows hard, a painful lump forming in his throat as he thinks over Ren’s words.

He'd been so desperate to touch him- hold him, kiss him - yet he'd forgotten that he was a human, and Ren was a ghost. 

No matter how badly he wanted to hold the other in his arms and kiss him until he couldn't breathe, he couldn't. Ren'd just slip through his fingers like smoke. 

He looks down at the ghost, holding his face in his gloved hands, "That damn curse..."

Yet, as he stood there holding you in his hands, a sudden idea popped into his head. 

He didn't know if it would work, or if it was even possible to do, but he was desperate to touch Ren- to feel every part of him. 

He wanted to have him, even if it was just for one night. 

"Can you... touch gold?" 

Ren blinked as he thought. An odd question, though he understood why it needed to be asked.

"I-I've never tried…"

Copia lets out a breath of relief that Ren can at least possibly touch gold. He was determined to make it work, to have him in any way he could. 

"You've never.. tried?" He repeated, a hint of excitement to his voice that hadn't been there before. "Hold on, I-" he says suddenly and steps away from Ren. 

He had a silver and gold Grucifix rosary around his neck. It was a symbol of his un-faith, and he was about to commit the most unholy act of his life. 

Copia grabbed the rosary around his neck and yanked it off him, the chain digging into his skin as he did. He barely even noticed. 

"Touch it," he commanded, holding the necklace in front of the ghost, "try and touch it."

Ren lifted a single finger, hesitating to touch the rosary. When he did, his finger burned. He yelped and flinched away, holding his hand close to his chest. He began to sob again, his soft cries echoing in the eerie cemetery.

Copia's own hands curled into fists, and he clenched his jaw as he watched the spirit attempt to touch the rosary and cry out in pain as it burned his skin. He didn't know that the rosary would burn him, he'd been so sure it would work. He wanted the other so desperately and yet now he'd hurt him, in both body and mind. 

He let the rosary drop onto the grass as he moved back towards you. "Are you- are you alright?"

"Just- just leave me alone," he whispered, turning away from Copia and floating off into the fog. "I knew I shouldn't have... shouldn't have trusted you.."

Copia swallows hard, watching you float off and disappear into the fog. He felt like an idiot- he'd hurt Ren. 

No, no, no. 

He couldn't leave him alone, not after what he'd done. He had to explain, he had to try and make up for it. 

Before he knew what he was doing, he was after him, moving deep in the fog that surrounded the cemetery.

"Wait, please!" Copia called out as he moved through the fog. He could vaguely see Ren's figure in front of him, and he continued to follow it. "You need to know that it was an accident, I didn't know that the rosary would burn you, I swear!" 

Copia continued through the fog hastily, not realizing where he was heading. He'd tripped over a log and almost fell into a hole in the ground, but Ren turned around at the right moment. He quickly reached out to grab Copia and yank him back upright, both of them pausing as they realized what Ren had just done. 

Copia's heart had just about jumped out his throat as he tripped and almost fell into the goddamn hole, when suddenly he felt a firm, yet freezing cold grasp on his arm. 

He looked up, expecting to see him, when he realized. Ren was holding him - touching him with his bare, icy cold fingers. Both of them froze, staring at each other as a wave of realization crashed into the two like a truck.

"I... I don't understand..." Ren whispered, his voice wavering as he felt more ethereal tears drip down his translucent skin. 

Copia swallowed, his breath shuddering and his heart hammering in his chest as Ren held his arm. He stared at the other, his breathing uneven and fast as he slowly reached up with his free hand to touch his. 

"You're- You're touching me," he whimpered, his voice almost breaking as his fingers met your impossibly cold skin.

"I can feel your warmth... your energy," Ren sniffled. "But not your flesh. I-I don't understand it at all… why could you go through me before, yet not now?"

Copia's breath hitches as Ren said he could feel his warmth and energy. He can barely process the ghost's words through the adrenaline rushing through his body. 

"I- I-" his words got stuck in his throat as his fingers carefully wrapped around Ren's hand. "I-I don't care why you can- you can touch me... I don't care why. Just... Just don't let go."

"Okay," he nodded, although his essence was trembling. "Okay, I'll…I won't let go." 

Copia lets out a shuddering breath, carefully lacing his gloved fingers through Ren's and holding Ren's hand gingerly between his own.

"You're... you're cold," he says simply, his breathing still a little uneven.

"And you're… so warm." 

Copia looks back up at Ren's face, staring into his milky eyes, iridescent tears and trembling lips, realization slowly dawning on him. 

He can never truly hold him, kiss him, have him. He can only look at Ren, and that realization alone feels like a punch to the gut and a stab in the heart all at once. Copia's breath becomes shaky, and he swallows, his mismatched eyes becoming glassy. 

Ren is right in front of him, but he is not his to hold and kiss and love. Ren is a ghost with an icy body, while Copia's a living, breathing man who needs, and Ren is a need he will never be able to satisfy. 

"I want to be with you, oh, how I want to," Ren whimpered. "I wish I wasn't dead... I wish I was alive again with you.."

The more the spirit spoke, the more Copia felt his heart breaking. With each whimper his chest twitches slightly, the organ in it aching and squeezing. He can’t even speak right now without his voice shaking and cracking. 

“Me too,” he replied, barely above a whisper. “I wish you weren’t dead… I wish you were alive, so I could touch you and love you like how I need to…”

"Promise me something," Ren sniffled. "Promise me... you won't ever harm yourself as a means to become a ghost with me. Live your life, Copia. I did not, and now I pay my price."

Copia's heart drops when Ren asks him to promise him that. The very thought of him harming himself, to become a ghost and stay with him forever does send a thrill through his body-

But he knows Ren is right. He can’t do that, can’t harm himself, he can’t kill himself to join the other in the afterlife. It’s still a hard one to promise, and he has to take a sharp breath in and close his eyes to try to focus. 

“I… promise,” Copia whispers, his voice strained.

"Thank you," Ren nodded, a hint of a smile playing at his lips before he drifted away into the fog once more.

[xiaoluclair]

🎀 list 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! get to know your moots or followers <3

being gifted. a whole fucking web weave out of the blue. like. sir. SIR??

the receiving end of sports infodumping (seriously. explain and all sports to me. rules, narratives, blorbos. it's The Best.)

finding the perfect place for being productive

delving into the pot of blueberries that's been in the refrigerator for five weeks and finding them in perfect condition

being gifted. a whole fucking web weave. after being allowed to pick through it for an hour surrounded by fairylights. perfect Ambience.

[vampfiire]

I turned my boops on here we fucking go

[xiaoluclair]

and they’re still not following each other

i was revisiting the instagram tributes that other drivers posted for seb and it got me thinking about what they would post for max when he inevitably retires in 2028. i think lando and daniels would be funny, pierre and alexs too. not sure who would be on the grid by then but maybe liam or yuki is his teammate and they would post something too. but what has me in a chokehold is what charles’ post could be like. would he post a picture from the karting days? would he have won a championship by then and post one of the two of them from the fia gala? what would his caption be?

Hi Anon, quick question, are you trying to induce a mental breakdown? 🫠😘

As much as I love to live in my delusion-bubble and transform every measly crumb into a three course meal, I’m gonna be real here for a second, I can’t see their posts being as heartfelt as we want them to be 💔

However, I’m a Lestappie through and through so here are a few of my scenarios/opinions (delusion included)

If Max retires first

Charles’ post — logical edition:

Charles’ post would likely be some shot of them driving, maybe Silverstone ‘19, or Jeddah ‘22 with a boring caption along the lines of:

Congratulations on a stellar career.

Charles’ post — Lestappen edition:

My heart screams that he’d pick a post-race embrace (hopefully one day we’ll have a proper one):

Fighting you was some of the best fun I’ve ever had.

The track won’t be the same without you there to push the limits and push me wide.

Enjoy this next chapter, you’ve earned the rest.

If Charles retires first

Max’s post — logical edition:

Max is a big softy, okay. HE would be the one to post them in their karting years, because he is the first to remind everyone they grew up racing each other (to combat the nostalgia of course he’d pick a photo from when he won his CIK-FIA World KZ Championship).

Together from the start until the end.

Well done on all your achievements over the years, mate 👍🏻

Max’s post — Lestappen edition:

It has to be the Austria ‘22 Podium, could it be anything else? Even with his rudimentary (and sometimes obliviously innocent) understanding of social media, in my mind even Max is aware how iconic this moment was.

It pays to never give up on a dream.

Congrats on winning your maiden championship and ending your career on a high. You deserve it.

I hate to admit a piece of me might miss seeing #16 in my mirrors, but thanks for not sticking around to wear my #1.

- Your biggest fan

If anyone else has any takes on this, or wants to share some thoughts, I’m all ears ❤️

📸 Credit to all the photographers, without them we’d wither away.

[dumbdomb]

Fantasy is being on the phone trying to arrange an exorcist as casually as if they’re an exterminator while you get roughly fucked and molested by the hypernympho ghost that’s started haunting your apartment.

Read my pinned post BEFORE you interact: like, reblog, reply, dm, ask, or follow. Must be over twenty-five years of age to interact. 25+ only. You do not have my consent to "Like" this post without reading my pinned first. MDNI.

Read my pinned before you interact! 25+ only.

(i DON'T like being treated roughly, btw!) 👎

now why would i want to be rid of a friendly ghost? just because they may be a little too friendly sometimes... i mean- well, maybe i like that!! (v_v ) trying on new clothes, getting ready for a warm bath, making some tea, fixing the clean sheets on my bed... all these mundane things that make me feel safe and cozy at home, becoming somewhat of an opportunity for the ghost that routinely makes advances on me. sometimes it's slightly unwanted, and it's as if this entity can sense my energy. other times, something just changes in me... i feel so safe and free in my comfort zone, and it's like their presence becomes a part of me- enchanting me. the way their touch can be electrifying and gentle, not obstructed by any clothing. it seems to learn what i like and dislike, getting better at making me more aroused than i ever thought was possible. although, i am kind of worried because these incidents have been happening more frequently as it's improved at pleasing me.

Read My Pinned BEFORE you interact! 25+ only.

NO: lurkers, likes only, inactive, empty, or blank blogs. DO NOT LIKE MY CONTENT. DNI. ♥️

[frozenhi-chews]

Happy Halloween

[snixx]

rank items in a geometry box

or functions available on a graphing calculator

wooooow the second one is giving dsa assignment (we legit had to do something like this by time complexity last month)

eraser>pencil>compass(fun fact I stabbed a girl in the head with a compass once and was shit scared of it for years)>sharpener>protractor>divider>set squares

and idk bestie I've never used one of those we were never allowed calculators in school and im a google era baby in college (I was once engaged to a calculator though. minty i miss u. also my sister's bf is more obsessed with his calculator than her)

[deadprincezzz]

Tw: cringe alert⚠️☢

🎀Wtf (0_0)

🎀Un headcannon mio es que salad se pondria diez mil anillos en cada mano. Bueno no, eso seria muy joto de su parte jajajsjaja salu2