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trashytracktales · 2 days ago
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Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.
If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴
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💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍
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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.
𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader
𐙚 rating ──── explicit
𐙚 category ──── F/M
𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.
𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).
𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024
𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻
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SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.
The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.
It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.
Why tonight, of all nights?
Why here, of all places?
Why him, of all people?
He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.
She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.
She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.
Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.
She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.
He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.
Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.
Oh, hell no.
Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.
Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.
“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.
Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.
She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.
It makes her stomach twist again.
He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.
It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.
“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”
For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.
Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”
She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”
It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.
Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.
She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.
Against her better judgment, she nods.
“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.
His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.
The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.
Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.
“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.
The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”
The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.
Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”
She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.
They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.
She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.
“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”
Here, as in back home.
“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”
She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”
Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”
She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.
“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”
Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.
She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.
“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”
Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.
He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.
“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.
She shoots him a surprised look.
As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.
“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.
A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”
She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.
He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.
Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”
“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”
She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.
“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”
“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”
A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”
“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.
“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”
Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”
His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”
“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”
Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.
His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”
Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”
For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.
“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.
Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.
“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.
“And?”
She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”
Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”
She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”
Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”
“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.
He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”
She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.
“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.
They remain silent after that.
She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.
He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.
Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.
The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.
On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.
The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.
His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.
“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”
She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.
“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”
It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.
“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”
That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.
Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”
Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”
The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.
“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”
Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.
It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.
“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”
Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.
“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”
Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.
“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”
“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”
Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.
“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.
Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”
“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”
For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.
“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”
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TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.
Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.
“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.
Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.
He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.
Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.
But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.
Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.
“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”
He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.
“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.
The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.
“No touching,” she repeats, determined.
Lando's hands fall at his sides.
Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.
Nights when he wasn’t there.
Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.
“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.
His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.
“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”
Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.
“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”
Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.
Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.
Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.
On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.
She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.
Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.
“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”
Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.
He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.
“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.
She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.
When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.
“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”
She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.
“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”
Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.
“Mhm, Lan…”
“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”
It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.
In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.
It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.
“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.
In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.
She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.
Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.
“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.
Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.
“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.
The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.
Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.
Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.
Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.
His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.
Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.
He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.
“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.
“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.
He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.
Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.
“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.
“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”
Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.
She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.
In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.
“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.
Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.
“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”
“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.
Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.
“God, I've missed you.”
When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.
Lando presses a tender kisses against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.
She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”
“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.
“What do you mean?”
Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.
“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.
“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”
She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”
She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.
He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”
“And how did he do that?”
“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.
“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.
“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”
His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.
Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”
He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”
She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”
The admission makes his chest tighten.
Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”
His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.
She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.
“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”
“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”
Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.
“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.
“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work .”
She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.
Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.
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THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.
The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.
Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.
The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.
Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.
“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”
She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his and and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.
“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”
“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”
Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.
“Lando…”
“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”
Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.
She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”
Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.
Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.
“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.
“You're so unfair.”
“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.
She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”
His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.
“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.
“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”
“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”
A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.
“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.
Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.
“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.
Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”
His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.
Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.
Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.
Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.
She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”
There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.
She can't.
“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.
Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.
And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.
She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.
But the body remembers.
And the remembering is, oh, so good.
Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.
His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.
Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.
She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.
But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.
“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”
She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.
They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.
Talking can wait.
Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.
“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.
She can't explain it, but she needs it.
“What's wrong?”
She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.
“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.
“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.
Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”
“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.
“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”
Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.
“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.
“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”
“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.
“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”
She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.
“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”
Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.
“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”
She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”
“Promise you,” says Lando.
After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.
Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.
It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.
In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.
“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”
One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.
“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”
Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.
“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”
It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.
“Lando,” she whimpers again.
“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”
She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.
“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”
Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.
“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.
“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me fuck you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”
Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.
“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.
His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.
And that's enough for him to lose it.
“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.
She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.
“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.
She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.
“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”
She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.
Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.
Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.
Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.
Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.
She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.
“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.
She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.
“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”
Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”
Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.
“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”
She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.
“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.
Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”
“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”
She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.
“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.
He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”
His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.
There’s none.
“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”
Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”
She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”
Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.
“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.
“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.
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© trashy track tales, 2024
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itsybitsylemonsqueezy · 23 days ago
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I have failed in my task to be connected to others. But I don't have to keep failing.
I remember 2016. I remember the fear, the panic. I remember the sludge my brain turned into in the wake of the news. The sorrow and despair I felt then is of the same, is the same, as I feel now. It's a sickening feeling, makes it hard to move, to think.
But what was true then is still true now. We must come together. We must connect with each other. We must not feel alone in this or allow each other to feel alone. I know I have not done my part in reaching out, for help and to help. I have demurred, because I was tired or because I was afraid. I cannot do this anymore. We have to reach for one another, we have to try.
The divide is a wall of distortion. Our voices get lost and we appear bigger and smaller than we really are. Our features are exaggerated to extremes, making monsters of just people. Just people. In all our ugliness. We must reach out through the fear, through the distortion, and try to see each other for who we are. There's always more in common than you think, often than you want. But if we can connect on those things, then we can conquer the distortion. We can pull each other past it.
I am hurt and I am grieving. And I don't mean to ask anyone to reach out in ways that make them unsafe. But I know that I have to understand and accept my fellow man if I want to go anywhere with her. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I want more connections, not fewer. I do not want to fail my fellows by not giving you a chance to be understood. Because I want that chance for myself. I want you to know me, see me, care about me. I can only ask that if I'm willing to give it.
I'm a person and so are you. We are scared. We are hurt. We are trying to make it through, sometimes not well, sometimes not consistently. I want you to know I love you. I want you to know that I see you are a person. Not good, not bad, just a person, flaws and virtues intact. This is what I wish for me. This is what I wish for all of us.
Come say hi if you feel it, I am here.
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wonder-worker · 4 months ago
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“Studies of Elizabeth Woodville […] have been hampered by the continuing fascination with her brother-in-law, Richard III. The Ricardian [and Yorkist] apologetic is now largely dependent upon the argument that the Woodville family posed such a threat to Richard of Gloucester, and the kingdom as a whole, that Gloucester had little option but to take the throne from his Woodville-dominated nephew. Although this argument has [irregularly] been contested, a reassessment of the queen's role in 1483 has not yet been attempted. Michael Bennett, in his 1987 account [...] still dismissed her as `an inveterate intriguer, capable in her vanity and fecklessness of some remarkable shifts and turns'. But more often she is scarcely mentioned in general histories of the period.”
-J.L. Laynesmith, “English Queenship 1445-1503” (thesis for the degree of DPhil in Medieval Studies, University of York, Centre for Medieval Studies, April 1999)
#Every single thing in this remains as true in 2024 as it did when she published it in 1999 btw#historicwomendaily#elizabeth woodville#wars of the roses#my post#Ironically Laynesmith herself is guilty of the same thing: her 'reassessments' of Elizabeth's role are really bad and always favor Richard#(so I don't know how she can call them 'reassessments')#also Laynesmith seems to think that the anti-Woodville argument has been 'repeatedly contested'#I would love to see those arguments because frankly from what I've seen (and I've searched A LOT) they are entirely non-existent#even historians like Rosemary Horrox who analyze Richard III critically retain a very negative and equally condemning view of the Woodville#throughout it all - so I am not sure that counts lol#That being said I'm really glad that Laynesmith pointed out how Elizabeth “is scarcely mentioned in general histories of the period”#because it's absolutely true#Like I said before - even in traditionally negative narratives there is very lacking interest in Elizabeth as a historical figure#She's only relevant for marrying Edward and Promoting Her Family and scheming against Richard#Most historians barely pay attention to her beyond that#The thing about Elizabeth is that she really has the worst of both worlds - she's vilified and diminished in equal measure#This has a lot to do with her brand of vilification; the persistent need to reaffirm Richard of Gloucester's appeal and authority;#and the very specific anomalous place she occupies in this period of time (between the three dynasties)#In the so-called 'era of queenship studies' where other controversial queens like Eleanor of Aquitaine Isabella of France and#MoA were receiving a great deal of attention and reassessments - Elizabeth remained equally vilified but was also#ultimately still dismissed as someone who 'grounded her queenship in her carnality' (with Edward IV) :/#So when recent 'revisionist' reassessments have depowered her still further...not only are they singularly unhelpful and inaccurate#they are also actively contributing to a major element of her negative historiography that has literally been present across centuries#hence why they annoy me so much#(This is also why Elizabeth is often written as a hysteric with haphazard and incoherent motivations in historical novels btw#It's a direct result of the vilification + diminishment combination that's been so persistent with her)
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brown-little-robin · 2 months ago
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you restore my faith in humanity. idk you're just so genuine and unobstructed from being yourself and loving everything around you. every time i think the world sucks i think about Robin From Tumblr and i'm like Hm maybe it isn't all bad
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AW THANKS <33333 I TRY
#favorite posts <3#I didn't come to humanity pre-fabricated with no barriers to love I've just been. working on it y'know. and I've been shaped this way#ok and not to get religious on you but#(points at my ani-sama the Christ) he helped#mostly by putting a lot of wonderful people around me so I could see his love working in them. in humanity#btw this is a tangent but I absolutely adore this Japanese Christian term for Jesus: ani-sama#because ''ani'' is such an intimate casual direct way to say ''big brother''. to the point of almost being rude how intimate it is#and -sama is the highest honorific <333 and together it's just so good because it's like. yeah. my deeply revered adored big brother#he who I respect and love and who is closer to me relationally than anyone else while also higher in status than me (positive)#it really wraps up the feeling of going ''oh I want to be like you''. the kind of literal hero worship only a good big brother can inspire#(looking at all my mutuals + honorary mutuals) do they know I can see god in them? do they know their love and goodness is divine#I got an extra half hour of sleep tonight and it's making me so sappy about humanity. we are such wonderful beings we have so much potentia#—potential every single one of us#but yeah it has taken me so much intentional taming my fears and comforting the lonely little child who lives inside me to get this way#basically what I'm trying to say is THANK YOU SO MUCH and also YOU CAN DO IT TOO <333 and also THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO HELPED#–ME GET HERE
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quirkle2 · 8 months ago
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oh nooo that's quite a bummer :( but i'm very glad that i helped brightening up your day :") tbh your writing brightens up my day too (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
AND WAIT I'VE BEEN ACTUALLY QUITE THINKING ABOUT WHETHER ZOMBIE MOB HAS FOUGHT OFF A ZOMBIE WHEN I ASKED IF HE HAS EVER BITTEN SOMEONE and since you brought it up, well, would be okay to ask about the details of how it went 👁️👁️ (also him fighting off a fellow zombie to protect tome got me sobbing)
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aww im glad my silly little words brighten ur day!! ur so sweet :]
and yes, it went horribly <3! tome prolly wasn't paying attention as closely as she should've been and got herself surrounded by a crowd. to be clear, that's not Always dangerous, since zombies arent like,, after ur brains in this constantly. but these zombies did look quite hungry, and human or not, she looked like a good meal,,
she had wandered off a bit from mob n ritsu, but mob heard the commotion first. tome has a big fucking baseball bat in this au that she likes to swing around, but a baseball bat can only get u so far in terms of self defense. she thins the horde but there's simply too many of them
mob lets exactly One zombie grab her and yank her toward them before he goes ballistic
watching zombies fight is a lot closer to watching wild animals fight than anything else, and it gets quite horrid sometimes. since their bites aren't rly "dangerous" to each other beyond the typical Oh No a Chunk of Flesh is Gone (not even painful for them, since their nerves r.. less than functional), the fight is a lot more close up and gruesome than a fight against a zombie and a human would be. humans usually back away from zombies immediately and try not to touch them at all in fear of getting bitten; zombies don't need to care abt that
most of the horde realizes that this meal isn't going to be easy and they wander off, but a few more hungry, more desperate ones try to rip into mob's throat at the first sign of defiance. it's not exactly a fair fight; it's like 1 against 4, so he's sorta bound to lose
thankfully ritsu shows up and shoots two of them down (he's Terrified of shooting mob by accident, but either way he'll probably die, so) and tome gets the last one with a good swing to the head. ritsu rushes to mob and is horrified by the amount of blood dripping from his neck and his arm; tome is equally as shocked, but she's mostly thinking, "ive Never seen a zombie defend a human before"
mob's neck is thankfully mostly just scraped up and clawed, but there Is some gruesome punctures where canines sank in and tugged. it's a lot worse along his arm that's bitten and gouged beyond belief. he loses a lot of blood here, but the whole nerves-no-longer-work thing is a blessing in disguise atm; he'd be in a lot of pain otherwise. while ritsu and tome are patching him up w shaky hands he simply glares beyond their shoulders like he thinks he's still in danger, even when they tighten the bandages. it's like he barely notices what they’re doing
his strangely alert behavior makes them think abt the possibility that maybe mob Knows he could've easily been shredded apart there, and he's a little scared and worked up abt it. the only reason he managed to fight as long as he did without dying is prolly bc the other zombies weren't as well-fed as mob—they were kinda weak and shaky from days of no food, but mob has humans taking care of him and keeping him fed 24/7
they're all shaken up by it pretty good.. tome is still reeling from the fact that mob defended her so valiantly, and ritsu is quietly horrified by the idea of another zombie killing mob instead of a human. he doesn't know which is worse
#qktalks#anon#zombie au#this isn't the first time ritsu has had to kill a zombie btw ^#this is just the first time he's had to kill one since he started seeing zombies in a different light#it was either letting his brother die or killing a zombie. ritsu's upset that he had to make that decision at all#but he's not afraid to say that the decision was incredibly easy to make#it sucks that he had to kill one but . for mob ? literally anything goes#ritsu checked tome over after they took care of mob too. tome's very surprised when he's rly gentle abt it#ritsu's been known to .. lose his head a little in moments of stress#and sometimes he snaps at tome bc of it. he never means to he's just..worked up#but this time he's kinda fretting over her and it opens her eyes a little bit#ritsu has indeed grown to care abt tome a lot. they bicker Most of the time but it's usually not very serious#in all the excitement tome just hadn't rly realized that until now. ritsu is so high-strung that it's hard to get a read on his softer side#but now he's not just directing his softer side to his brother‚ but to tome as well#i have 15 more tags to explain smth i wanna make clear btw let's hope i don't start rambling abt smth else entirely#so i've been using a lot of vocabulary in these au posts that hint toward mob being ''special'' or ''abnormal'' in his behavior#he is not special or abnormal in any way#Every zombie is like that. every zombie has a personality�� and a gentler demeanor hidden behind that desperate starvation#and remnants of their past selves in there somewhere#mob is simply one of the only zombies that have been taken in and cared for and treated like a sick person rather than a monster#as i've said before most people just.. either run away or shoot them between the eyes when crossing paths with a zombie#they don't give any of them a Chance. mob is a very very lucky zombie.#he is healthier than most other zombies and he is treated far better#and the way ritsu constantly talks to him is actually great for his health ! gets those rusty gears in his head rollin#exercises that brain‚ even if‚ to ritsu‚ he's only responding in odd gibberish#that's only one of the things ritsu gives him that other zombies never receive in their lifetimes#i'd say mob prolly ? has one of the longest ''zombie lifespans''#most zombies either die of starvation‚ dehydration‚ or sleep deprivation within a few weeks#he's lived a long zombie life !
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nexus-nebulae · 2 months ago
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holy shit i think this past saturday was the first time in TEN ENTIRE MONTHS that i forgot to take my pills for a day
#I'VE NEVER BEEN THAT CONSISTENT BEFORE THAT'S A WILD RECORD#meds reminder app my beloved#i broke my streak BUT DAMN WAS THAT AN IMPRESSIVE STREAK!#and i took my meds yesterday i do know that#so I've only missed a single day since i started these in January#not counting the time my old psychiatrist refused to let me refill my meds in time so i had to take them every other day#bc i didn't want to run out too soon and just Stop Taking Them for a whole week so we did every other day instead#no longer seeing that entire FACILITY bc they were so fucking awful with this shit I just LEFT and my new one is much nicer#that shitty facility was the same one that trapped me in a room bc they didn't bother to make sure wheelchair users can open their doors#and i was in a fucking. windowless room with a heavy steel door and a lot of insulation bc it's supposed to be a private doctor chat room#which is honestly fucking STUPID that I'm expected to show up in person for an appointment#and then they stick me in a room to fucking VIDEO CALL the doctor#like. fucking. THIS COULD HAVE BEEN A FUCKING EMAIL#except replace email with just video call#they didn't need my vitals for anything they didn't need me there physically WHY WAS I STILL FORCED TO COME IN#JUST LET ME VIDEO CALL THE DOCTOR AT HOME LIKE. WHAT THE FUCK#and then they forgot me in the fucking call room and didn't let me out until i had my mom grab me#AND THEN THEY GOT MAD AT MY MOM FOR IT. THEY WERE LIKE 'you could've just called for us' I WAS FUCKING SCREAMING SOBBING#once i move far enough away from that facility to feel safe posting its location#I'm making a PSA post for anyone else in the area#bc holy FUCK that was awful and the fact that THAT'S the facility that our local hospital directs people to is absolutely INSANE
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curiouschaosstarlight · 11 months ago
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person #1: "[character i really love] should die violently!"
me: okay, bye
person #2: "i love this character!"
person #2: "[other character i really love] should die violently!"
me:
#not important#chaotic rants#if i had a nickle for every time one of my non-villain favorites got bashed i'd...#i'd be rich honestly why the fuck does this keep happening to me#i feel like i've made this post before#anyways i dont want to get directly specific because i dont want this to show up in searches#but if anyone's wondering the characters are Sampo and Argenti from HSR#i love those two immensely#i also love Kafka WHO ALSO gets bashed a lot i've noticed :\#i think i'd be deeply uncomfortable with ANYONE wishing violent death on any character#it's a feeling i genuinely cannot relate to in the slightest despite having characters i dislike and dont really want to see#but it's especially distressing when it's my favorite characters#in case you're wondering this is why you'll never see me participate in direct character or ship bashing on my stuff#maybe i would have in the past but everyone is someone's favorite#and whenever im about to directly namedrop a character or ship that frustrates or annoys me i just kinda pause and go#'okay but what if someone who really likes this character/ship sees this and feels ashamed for their enjoyment?'#And Then I Don't Do It#not because anyone's making me but because the internet is a public space and frankly#there's already enough toxicity in the world#...i should post more character positivity and dress up/picrew stuff (and art but my art block's been severe lately)#maybe i'll build a queue in a bit if i can get my energy up#(if y'all are wondering why i have so many posts that are me complaining about fandom attitudes)#(it's 'cause spite gives me a temporary energy boost and i've been severely lacking in energy lately)#i -am- a bit hesitant because i know my takes on certain characters (particularly Dottore) are#insanely niche in a way i dont think anyone reading this before i've posted anything demonstrative of that fact will expect#and then i feel self conscious putting my niche stuff out there to be looked at#but! that's why i have custom character tags anyway i s'pose
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goldentigerfestival · 6 months ago
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I love the vocal nuance in this exchange, but also posting this for my differences posts because this is one of the changes that infuriates me the most. Yuri didn't threaten Ioder, did not threaten him with a weapon, and just said he'd punch him in a lazy, half joking voice (half joking as in, he really doesn't want to hear that - that's just his way of saying so; but that's not the voice of someone who is super angry and threatening).
My other huge grievance is that this is a recurring issue between them in the dub. Yuri is pretty much always vocally rude to Ioder. Ioder has done nothing to wrong him or anyone and has only ever done good for the people where he's able to.
Yet despite Ioder being nothing but sincere, honest and polite with Yuri, in fact even happy to see him here and there, dub Yuri is outright tonally rude to him leading right up this scene where he threatens Ioder in this dark voice. Meanwhile he's actually just supposed to be… lazily telling Ioder he'll punch him in his Yuri Lowell way of saying "I don't want to hear that".
The dub really just wanted to turn Yuri into this dark edgelord and I hate that for my goofy, silly boy.
#GTF Vesperia Clips#honestly JP Yuri talks abt punching ppl often enough that it's like... this should have been an easy tl#and like honestly wtf is with the dub having Yuri at Ioder's absolute THROAT every time they talk#I'm serious when I say dub Yuri genuinely pisses me off sometimes bc he's an asshole for NO reason#it's not cool. I'm not rooting for him. I'm rooting for someone to punch him in the face for being an ass#JP Yuri would love to do it honestly he's always up for punching ppl it's a recurring theme for /him/#I've never wanted to punch JP Yuri in the face. I've wanted to punch dub Yuri in the face multiple times#that's enough for me to recognize that the dub took more than just ''creative liberties'' with the loc#it SUCKS too bc the dub in and of itself isn't bad. I've said this before but#it really is primarily Yuri and his absolute ATTITUDE problem /and/ the way the dub treats Flynn and puts him down constantly#and unfortunately often uses Yuri to do it... when they're not having Flynn himself do it#all always in areas that never even happened originally. they just literally made it up#still not over how they had Flynn basically berate himself by saying ''like a /good knight/'' at Yormgen#the dub very clearly had a /narrative/ bias against imperial figures/knights that wasn't in the original#what was the reason to drop Sodia calling Yuri ''sir'' at Aurnion? there wasn't one!#but Sodia BaD so we can't possibly let anyone see her character development and have to hide it from dub players!#unfortunately for me the dub not being bad in and of itself truly is trumped by#its treatment of Yuri and Flynn as characters and the way the game narratively directs players#for me it really is THAT BAD that it's stronger than the rest of the dub being just fine#and it really truly honestly RUINS the entire dub for me bc I love Yuri and Flynn and hate seeing them treated like that#I mean literally the whole point of me making those text posts is bc of my love for Yuri lol#and it's so sad and hard to see dub players not get the same Yuri experience simply bc... they don't even know#a lot of people didn't even realize how different he was and like... I get loving Troy's acting#but again Troy isn't the problem here. I don't want a dub that treats my favorites the way it does#I WISH Troy could have voiced Yuri the way he really is. in some way for me it feels very lonely#bc like the casual person I pass by who knows Vesp isn't likely to have not played the dub you know??#so it's like... I wanna talk abt Yuri but we aren't even talking abt the same Yuri#nearly outta tags lol but yeah it just... makes me SO sad that they did all this to those two
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blizzardfluffykpop · 4 months ago
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why the fuck do i miss pigeons
#don't ask me i am going thru it today#ebhehbbehbhebhabh#i miss pigeons dude#oooh the poor little domesticed cuties#kate rambles from here#this is a small detail of the feeling i am feeling#like post leaving nyc is wrecking havoc on my psyche#i don't want to be in the fucking great plains#a few irls don't understand my want for city life- and i didn't know it was this bad until staying there for 4 days-#but my mom's whole family is from the city- i just feel so at home there- and everything i've inherited that way is in my blood#and i just wanna bawl my eyes out#i have been quite a bit but like ik i have a goal now- to move into the city- i've always had that goal to at least move to the city near m#but like nyc was like being somewhere i felt i wanted- it's not that i'm looking to make it big- i miss the noise the water and pigeons#around here you'll hear the occasional car go by- and crickets- i miss the city lights- i keep crying about it for so many reasons but#i just don't know how to actually express it?#because it's such an odd feeling for me to feel? because if yknow me well- i love being at home- i hate sleeping somewhere else-#taking a trip down south this last christmas- i couldn't stand the quiet- it's quieter the more south you go and i can't do this#i've always wanted to leave my small town but ?? like actually being somewhere that has felt home has been unattainable bc every#where in oh hasn't been home... and for once i felt like i could do this- and having to return here- just made me break down and cry#maybe it's the person i live with- that makes me wish to leave- but that's not the full truth- idk maybe a good nap will help#kate rambles#i have a life goal now but i wish i could do it now- i hope sooner rather than later i'll at least live in the city#i've been happily living but now i have a direction i wish to run towards- and i'm gonna chase after it#sure i miss seeing tbz i loved seeing them- but it's not even post concert depression- if that makes sense?#which it doesn't make sense- because for mx it was only pcd- but for nyc it's missing the city... and it feels awful#pls ignore this i just needed to be frustrated somewhere#ig knowing what i'm missing- i can finally work on filling that spot huh? i guess that's what i'll be doing#(also vv small point but the fact that one of the people i live with- refuses to ever visit nyc again- is so comforting to me)#pls don't send me an ask about this i just needed to ramble and i haven't caught up on my daily journal yet to do so- so this is here
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crest-of-gautier · 10 months ago
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triple / wipeout i got today! i'm so happy to have gotten e-liter to 4 stars, it's probably been the most fun i've had playing the game recently :3 (tfw you only started playing it regularly like.. last month.. idk what this says about me)
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rexcaliburechoes · 1 year ago
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the lyrics to detect my love sound oddly ominous, not gonna lie...
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kuromi-hoemie · 1 year ago
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fwiw cohost.org doesn't rly use an algorithm, is worker-owned with good ethics, has a chronological timeline and also allows nudity/nsfw content unambiguously 👍 they draw their inspo from a few other socmed sites but i see enough elements that tumblr has to feel like I'm rly gonna like it there once my account's been fully activated.
i don't think it's large scale, but it could be :3 would also like tumblr to see they're bleeding users and that good alternatives DO exist actually.
cohost has a 1-2 day activation period before u can actually start posting but ur still free to like and follow in the meantime.
An open letter to @staff
I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.
The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.
Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.
This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.
This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.
Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.
You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.
Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.
This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.
You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.
The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.
You can do so much better than this.
Response to the Update
Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.
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I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.
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Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.
People read it that way because that is what you said.
#i am shouting this from the rooftops every time it comes up#i have looked at other sites and don't like any of them. cohost feels like the thing people have been crying out for for years.#like#idk. I don't think I've been this hype to join anything new in like a decade lol.#but also bc it's just been that long since i saw something and immediately vibed with it. except maybe discord but That's Different#also sorry to my followers for bringing it up a lot today 💀 most of it is just a repeatedly scheduled post but!!#i want to see y'all on there. or at least add each other on discord (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠) but yeah#im actively trying to direct ppl to cohost so i can get my lil circle of mutuals established (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡#i also am just actually genuinely excited about it based on everything they've said abt themselves so I want more tumblr folk to know!#I'd say right now they're closer to what tumblr is than tumblr itself will become in like a year's time#and i rly hope they take off and have vibrant communities. im sure they're getting hella signups between tumblr n twitter though#which is funny 😭 like tumblr!!! u had it SO easy!! other sites offered up users on a silver platter all you had to do was not fuck up.#u could've done NOTHING and come out ahead. but alas >.> as a regular user i Am trying to taper off of using tumblr#but am still here bc I'm not fully situated elsewhere (yet) and this is still where most of my mutuals that i care abt r at (⁠〒⁠﹏⁠〒⁠)
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kingdom-creatin · 5 months ago
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Actually I have much to say on that specifically (re: last reblog) with the novel so since I can't spam this to my first reader without tearing down plot flow for them I will throw it all here in some form of word vomit because yeah.
The second protag in the book, Lucian, starts off as a really nasty guy. He's got a lot of opinions formed over the years from his childhood and from working for Imperialism Navy that he's fully fed into. He views the majority of the main cast as lesser or as natively dangerous and evil and actively antagonizes a few of them for the first third/half of the book. Most frequently this involves the other main protag, Haeseom, someone who the navy had once owned and raised from birth as a slave general for them but who escaped and now works to take them down. Think everything that a big military power might say to their troops about an escapee that they know they can't win against and that's Luca's view of Haeseom. Eventually his active assholishness dies off and he and the cast are growing to tolerate each other, but his opinions are definitely still there. Throughout the book, he's forced to contend with his attitude, realizing that a lot of the ideas that he's been living in are false or warped. It's also revealed that the seed for this in him is an internalized hatred towards the fact that he has but cannot use magic and feeling like he would be ostracized from both camps.
Learning this does not excuse his actions in the past. Especially with respect to Daria, someone he knew from before, whom he betrayed (alongside their families and family friends, their whole community) so viciously it resulted in the death or capture of nearly a hundred people, for which he was rewarded with rank - all an incentive to join the navy with honors. There's one scene where Daria finally confronts him directly after he does something stupid and gets punished for it. She calls him out for failing to change, for holding onto these views as if the deaths in their past mean nothing, for being selfish and bigoted and yet acting as if they could become friends again, when his own views put her as lesser than him as well.
Even with all of this, by the end of the book Lucian is not redeemed and, as Daria says herself, he's not forgiven. He's growing, yes. He's learning to recognize faults in his views and acknowledge his bigoted attitude, yes. But he's not there yet. He was an asshole, he's still an asshole, and he's learning to try but he's not suddenly a good person. Along that same line, I'm trying to figure out how best to really nail home within the plot but without becoming too heavy handed that Daria does not and very likely will never forgive him and that's also okay. Like, I wanted him and all the ache and emotions with all of this to feel real and to hurt.
I enjoy stories where the asshole transforms by the end into someone who's sincere and sincerely dedicated to being a good person, like, those are good stories. But I'd never feel fulfilled if I made Luca one of them. I needed him to come in as an asshole and to leave as an asshole, with nuance in the fact that he is narratively changed and that he does realize that he could be a better person and that he starts to become one... but he's not there yet and even when he does get there, it doesn't mean any of his past is forgotten or forgive, just that he's been granted the chance to be better moving forward.
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barabones · 3 months ago
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I forget exactly where I saw the initial post asking for volunteers, but on July 10th, I reached out to the listed email. Jane, the organizer, got back to me right away and within an hour I was added in their discord.
Up until this point, I had been maintaining an average 8 ESims myself, so I already had experience checking in on them on a daily basis. The folks there helped me onboard with the spreadsheets for keeping track, and now it's very easy for me to catalog new ones I buy and record daily data usage. The whole process takes me maybe 20-40 minutes a day depending now on how many ESims actually need to be topped off.
Jane has been very up front with lots of the group's information, with frequent announcements about the groups current funds and amounts of daily ESims sent out. She and the others have been super helpful with getting funds to us when needed, and I've almost never had to actually spend any of my own money for any of this.
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In the time that I've been volunteering, they figured out how to run a Business account with the Nomad ESim company. Which means that now and then they can just send 15 or so ESims my way, and I just catalog them and send the QRcodes towards Mirna and the Connecting Gaza folks. No more wasting time with the purchasing process, while getting a bit of a bulk discount on top of that.
We also share updates on whatever brand of ESims are most needed. When folks on the ground tell us that one network doesn't seem reliable, we are able to switch over for a while until either the networking issue is fixed, or we all pressure customer service enough to replace them for us.
There's also lots of complaining about new UI updates an general website bugs. There's surprisingly a lot of them and it's good to know other folks are getting info from customer service when things go wrong.
In August they made a meme channel
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Anyways....
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Lets get into some stats for myself. In 2 months (July 10- Sept12) I have:
Send off 171 ESims
Maintained around 60 active ones
Topped up these active ESims 139 times
Spend over $6400 donated dollars
I have multiple power users who have burned through close to 100GB. 2 of them have broken 200GB. These are most likely being used as hot spots.
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Why am I sharing all of this? Mostly to show how easy it has been to make a marginal difference. I have helped at least 60 people stay connected with the outside world in just 2 months. Probably more if we assume some of the power users becoming hotspots for other folks. This is 20-40 minutes of my time a day, and I honestly regret not signing up to do this sooner.
I was specifically limiting myself to this workload because I wanted to test the waters. Those stats was me specifically not wanting to push myself and see what impact a normal person could make with 20 minutes a day. At this point I think I will be taking more advantage of Nomad's Tuesday discounts to really bulk up my numbers. It's pretty easy to buy 15 or so every Tuesday, and then send em over.
If you would like to join us in this endeavor, please reach out to Jane at cripsforesimsforgaza(at)gmail
We are specifically looking for people in European time zones, since a lot of us are in the Americas and that's quite a difference between us and Gaza. If not, that's no problem!
If you can't participate, that's totally fine, but please donate what you can! Folks like you are the ones who keep us going!
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I hope this information has been useful in some way. Like I said, I wish I had heard about this group sooner, with how easy it has been to do. I can track my direct impact of what my daily time is doing for folks, and seeing the data be used up a little bit more day by day gives me hope for everyone in Gaza. Thank you for your time.
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aethersea · 4 months ago
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prev tags has been reinstated, via a dropdown menu option that isn't always present for some reason, instead of just putting back the feature that we HAD which WORKED
shoutout to xkit rewritten, though, where you can in fact put back the feature we had
etiquette for copying tags
you can and should copy tags onto the body of the post if you think they’re cool! the only rule for doing this is you should @ the person you got the tags from to give credit. this is polite! do this!!
but I’m persnickety so here are some lesser rules, which are not essential but which I think you should also follow bc they make the site experience nicer
1. if you can, copy-paste the tags directly, don’t screenshot. this makes the tags accessible for everyone using e-readers! I say “if you can” bc I’m given to understand this is basically impossible on tumblr mobile. rip everyone using the mobile app, braver than any us marine
2. the format™ for tags is to have a # in front of every line. sometimes you will copy-paste the tags and they won’t look that way, for mysterious reasons knowable only to software devs. you should tidy them up so they do, bc if there’s nothing clearly demarcating the start of a tag, it’s all just a weird river of words. it’s like removing all the periods from a paragraph.
3. it’s common practice to just paste the whole thing as a block of text, but in my opinion it’s nice sometimes to break it up into paragraphs, especially if it’s a lot of tags. improves readability, you know? more pleasant than reading a massive block of text
4. it is good and right to add image descriptions to screenshotted tags if you encounter them in the wild, to make the post accessible for everyone using e-readers. good samaritan behavior, we love you
5. don’t screenshot and then add an image description in the same reblog?? just paste the tags in directly?? why would you take up twice the space you need to and make everyone read the thing twice??? if you have the capacity to show the tags as text, then you…have the capacity to show the tags as text??? clown behavior, this baffles me
6. ‘prev tags’ has been outlawed by tumblr staff
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wawhii · 9 months ago
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What is it with being a Daedra and always being hungry? Metaphorically or literally?
~ Nightshade
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