#genuinely i think this is my best piece ever

[xo100]

Little dreams - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Y/N takes her son Leo to his first Grand Prix, where they meet his idol, Lando Norris. Lando’s kindness makes the weekend unforgettable, sparking joy for Leo and the possibility of something more for Y/N.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1624

*:･ﾟ A/N: a few days ago I saw on insta that they now released his merch for kids and I immediately had to write a cute fic about it bc the hoodies are absolutely adorable!!!

masterlist / community / request

౨ৎ

The Silverstone paddock buzzed with its usual chaos. Engines roared in the background, journalists hustled between interviews, and fans craned their necks for glimpses of their favorite drivers. Among the crowd, a young boy with a mop of dark hair and a light blue hoodie clung to his mother’s hand, his face alight with wonder.

“Mom, this is the best day ever!” he exclaimed, his small feet practically bouncing with excitement.

His mother, Y/N, smiled down at him, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Leo. But remember, we have to stick together, okay? This place can get pretty crowded.”

Leo nodded earnestly, his big brown eyes scanning the bustling paddock. At just six years old, he already knew more about Formula 1 than most adults, a passion inherited from his mom. Y/N had grown up watching races with her dad, and now, as a single mother, she shared that same love with her son.

Leo’s favorite driver, without question, was Lando Norris. His room was decorated with McLaren posters, his toy cars all painted papaya orange, and his wardrobe—thanks to Y/N—now included Lando’s newly launched children’s merch line. The hoodie he wore today was his favorite piece, and he hadn’t stopped talking about it since it arrived in the mail.

“Do you think we’ll see him, Mom?” Leo asked, craning his neck to peer around a group of photographers.

Y/N crouched down to his level, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. “Maybe, sweetheart. We have paddock passes, so there’s a chance. But remember, the drivers are super busy, so we have to be patient.”

Leo nodded, though the excitement in his eyes didn’t dim. He clutched the small notepad and marker he’d brought, just in case he got the chance to ask for an autograph.

As they wandered through the paddock, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia. It had been years since she’d attended a race in person, but seeing it through Leo’s eyes made it even more magical.

“Mom! Look!” Leo’s voice was a mix of awe and urgency as he tugged on her hand.

Y/N followed his gaze and froze. Just a few feet away, leaning casually against a barrier and chatting with a team member, was Lando Norris himself.

“Go on,” Y/N encouraged softly, her heart swelling at the sight of her son’s hero so close.

Leo hesitated for a moment, his small frame vibrating with nervous energy. Then, with a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and marched forward.

“Hi, Lando!” he said, his voice high-pitched but clear. “You’re my favorite driver!”

Lando turned, his trademark grin lighting up his face as he crouched to Leo’s level. “Hey, buddy! Thanks for saying that. What’s your name?”

“Leo!” he said proudly, puffing out his chest. “And look! I’m wearing your hoodie!”

Lando’s eyes lit up as he took in the light blue hoodie, the logo of his brand displayed prominently on the front. “No way! That looks awesome on you, Leo. You’ve got great taste.”

Leo beamed, clutching the fabric of his hoodie. “My mom got it for me. She says you’re really cool, too!”

Y/N, who had been hanging back to give Leo his moment, felt her cheeks flush as Lando’s gaze shifted to her. He stood, his grin softening into something more genuine.

“Your mom sounds pretty cool herself,” he said, his voice warm.

Y/N stepped forward, laughing nervously. “Well, I’ve been a fan of the sport for a long time, so I guess I’m passing it on.”

“You’re doing a great job,” Lando said, glancing down at Leo, who was now rifling through his notepad. “It’s always nice to meet fans like you two.”

Leo held up the notepad eagerly. “Can you sign this? Please?”

“Of course!” Lando took the marker and scribbled a quick note, adding a little doodle of a race car next to his signature.

As he handed the notepad back, he turned to Y/N again. “Are you two here for the whole weekend?”

“Yes,” Y/N said. “It’s Leo’s first race, so I wanted to make it special.”

“Well, I think you’ve done a pretty good job so far,” Lando said, his tone teasing.

Y/N laughed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “Thanks. He’s been counting down the days for months.”

Lando crouched down again, ruffling Leo’s hair. “I hope you have the best time, Leo. And make sure you cheer extra loud for me, okay?”

“I will!” Leo promised, his face glowing with happiness.

As they walked away, Leo clutching his notepad like a treasure, Y/N glanced back over her shoulder. To her surprise, Lando was still watching them, a thoughtful smile on his face.

“Mom,” Leo said, looking up at her. “That was the best moment of my whole life.”

Y/N smiled, her heart full. “Mine too, sweetheart.”

Little did she know, it wasn’t the last time she’d see that thoughtful smile.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement. Leo couldn’t stop talking about meeting Lando, recounting every detail of their conversation to anyone who would listen. Y/N smiled through it all, her heart full as she watched her son’s joy.

But as much as she tried to focus on the moment, she couldn’t quite shake the memory of Lando’s lingering gaze or the warmth in his voice when he spoke to her. It was probably nothing, she told herself. He was just being kind, like he always was with fans.

The next day, Y/N and Leo returned to the paddock, both dressed in their McLaren gear. Leo wore his hoodie again, proudly showing off the autograph Lando had added to the sleeve. The boy was on cloud nine, and Y/N couldn’t imagine how the weekend could get any better.

But then, it did.

As they wandered near the McLaren garage, a team member approached them with a friendly smile.

“Excuse me, are you Leo?”

Leo’s eyes widened as he nodded. “Yes! That’s me!”

The team member chuckled. “Lando mentioned meeting you yesterday. He thought you might like a closer look at the garage. Would you and your mom like to come in?”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. Follow me.”

Leo practically dragged Y/N by the hand as they followed the team member into the garage. The space was a hive of activity, with engineers working on the cars and team members preparing for the upcoming qualifying session.

Lando was there, of course, leaning casually against the side of his car as he chatted with his race engineer. When he spotted Leo and Y/N, his face lit up with a grin.

“Leo! You made it!”

Leo beamed, running up to him. “This is so cool! Thank you, Lando!”

“Anything for my number one fan,” Lando said, ruffling Leo’s hair. He glanced at Y/N, his smile softening. “Glad you could make it, too.”

“I can’t believe this,” Y/N said, shaking her head. “This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

Lando shrugged, his eyes twinkling. “It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to make sure Leo had a weekend to remember.”

Leo was already engrossed in a conversation with one of the engineers, who was showing him the car’s steering wheel. Y/N took the opportunity to step closer to Lando.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, her voice low. “But it means the world to him. To both of us.”

Lando tilted his head, his gaze steady. “I could tell how much this means to you two. And honestly, it’s nice to meet fans who care about more than just the results. You’ve raised a great kid.”

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the garage fading into the background. Lando’s easy smile and the warmth in his eyes made her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.

“Mom! Look!” Leo’s excited voice broke the moment as he ran over, holding a small piece of carbon fiber. “They gave me a piece of the car! Isn’t that cool?”

“That’s amazing, sweetheart,” Y/N said, crouching to his level. “You’ll have to find a special place for it at home.”

Leo nodded enthusiastically before turning back to Lando. “You’re the best driver ever!”

Lando laughed, crouching down to Leo’s level. “And you’re the best fan ever. Deal?”

“Deal!”

As they left the garage, Y/N couldn’t help but glance back one last time. Lando caught her eye and gave her a small wave, his smile lingering.

The rest of the weekend was a whirlwind of excitement. Leo cheered his heart out during qualifying and the race, and when Lando crossed the finish line in fourth place, he celebrated as if it were a win.

But the real surprise came after the race. As Y/N and Leo were preparing to leave, a McLaren team member approached them again, this time with an envelope.

“Lando asked me to give this to you,” he said, handing it to Y/N.

Curious, she opened it. Inside was a handwritten note:

Y/N and Leo, Thank you for making this weekend unforgettable. Leo, keep being the amazing fan you are. And Y/N, if you’re ever at another race, I’d love to see you again. Maybe we can grab a coffee sometime? -Lando

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she read the note. She glanced at Leo, who was already excitedly telling a passerby about his piece of the car, and then back at the note.

Maybe, just maybe, this weekend wasn’t just a dream come true for Leo.

౨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @gridprincess-04 , @justaf1girl

[landososcar]

jump then fall ; ln4

chapter one — i’m feeling you, baby

— pairing(s) ; college basketball captain!lando norris x college tutor!reader

— summary ; in which lando was so worried about his grades falling, he didn’t realise he was too.

— warnings ; 1692 words, death of a parent (mentioned), alcohol mentioned, nothing else i don’t think!

— note ; longer note at the end but i know this is set in america but i refuse to write ‘mom’ instead of ‘mum’ idc who that bothers

masterlist , next

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

the library was not a popular hangout space on a friday night for many of the people i go to school with — i know this because i'm one of the few people who regular the two story building.

tonight, like most nights, my corner of the library was deserted. a few students sat scattered across the first floor, scrolling through their phones or cramming for last-minute deadlines, but upstairs, where i always worked, it was silent. the kind of silence that wrapped around you like a blanket, soothing and distracting all at once.

i had just opened my laptop and pulled out my notes for monday’s tutoring session when i heard the unmistakable sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor.

i looked up, half expecting a lost freshman wandering in search of the printers, but what i saw instead almost made me freeze.

lando norris.

he was hard to miss — tall, broad-shouldered, perpetually disheveled in that annoyingly effortless way athletes always seemed to master. his varsity basketball jacket hung loosely on him, and his backpack was slung carelessly over one shoulder. he didn’t belong here. not just because he was the school’s golden boy or because his team was undefeated this season, but because lando norris had a reputation. parties, games, and the occasional appearance in class—those were his natural habitats. the library was not.

he stopped a few feet away from my table, glancing down at a crumpled piece of paper in his hand, then back up at me.

“are you y/n?” he asked, his voice deep but tinged with uncertainty.

i blinked at him, trying to piece together how he even knew my name. “uh, yeah. why?”

relief washed over his face, and he shoved the paper into his pocket. “good. i need your help.”

i arched an eyebrow. “with what?”

“passing calculus,” he said, flashing a grin that was somehow both charming and exasperating.

i stared at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. “calculus,” i repeated, as if saying the word out loud might somehow make this whole interaction make sense. since when did he care about passing classes?

“yeah.” he dropped his bag onto the table across from me with a soft thud and sank into the chair. “i have no idea what’s going on in that class. coach says i’ll be benched if i don’t pull my grade up, and the professor said you’re the best tutor on campus. so, here i am.”

my brain took a second to catch up. calculus wasn’t exactly light reading, and the idea of tutoring lando norris—someone i’d only ever seen surrounded by teammates, fans, or beautiful women—felt surreal. i’d heard his name in passing a hundred times, seen him on flyers for basketball games, but this was the closest i’d ever been to the school’s star athlete.

and now he wanted me to help him?

“why now?” i asked, leaning back in my chair, my brows furrowed. “the semester started months ago. you’ve just realized you’re failing?”

he scratched the back of his neck, sheepish. “something like that. look, i know this is probably the last thing you want to be doing on a friday night, but…” he paused, his hazel eyes meeting mine, almost pleading. “i really need this… i can’t be benched—it’ll ruin my shot with scouts, you know?”

i wanted to say no, that i didn’t understand. i had other students to tutor, i had my own workload, and honestly, i wasn’t sure if he was the type to take tutoring seriously. but something in the way he looked at me—equal parts desperation and genuine hope—made me hesitate.

“i don’t know,” i said slowly, closing my notebook. “do you even have your textbook with you?”

he froze. “textbook?”

i sighed, already regretting this. “yes, textbook. the big, heavy thing with equations in it? you’re going to need one if you want me to help you.”

“right, yeah. got it. i’ll bring it next time,” he said quickly, like he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “so, you’ll help me?”

i hesitated, weighing my options. if he failed, it wouldn’t just be his grade on the line—it’d be his position on the team, and judging by the way he was looking at me, i got the feeling basketball wasn’t just a sport to him.

“fine,” i said, crossing my arms. “but i’m not doing all the work for you. you show up on time, bring your materials, and actually put in the effort. if you don’t, i’m done.”

his grin returned, wider this time, and he nodded enthusiastically. “deal.”

“—and i charge $35 an hour.” he nods, muttering something about anything is fine and i hold back the urge to roll my eyes at him, “good. then i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“tomorrow?” his face fell slightly, like he hadn’t expected this to start so soon.

“yes, tomorrow,” i said firmly, “i have to fit you in between other students whenever i can, and if you want to pass, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. be here at eight.”

“eight a.m. or p.m.?”

i narrowed my eyes.

“got it. eight a.m.,” he said quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. he begun to get up from his chair, slinging his bag over his shoulder before he paused, “actually…” he looked at me sheepishly, “i’ve got training from six-thirty until eight, can we meet here at eight-thirty?”

i scoffed and his face looked as if he regretted asking, “eight-fifteen, i can’t do any later. i’ve got training at nine-thirty.”

his eyes furrowed at my mention of ‘training’ but before he could ask any questions i continued, “goodnight, lando,” i said, and he nodded his head, beginning to walk out of the library.

“night, y/n.”

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

the cool night air hit me as i stepped outside the library, the faint hum of campus life echoing in the distance. a group of students passed by, their drunken laughter bouncing off the pavement as they stumbled around, but i barely noticed them. my thoughts were still tangled up in the unexpected turn my evening had taken.

lando norris. calculus. tutoring. it felt surreal, like i’d just stepped into someone else’s story for a moment.

i adjusted my bag on my shoulder and headed toward the front of the school where the large forever-open gates would lead me home.

the walk home wasn’t far—just ten minutes away from campus—but it gave me enough time to collect my thoughts. as i turned onto the street where i lived, the familiar weight of responsibility settled on my chest.

as i made it to the apartment building, i prepared myself for the three flights of stairs ahead of me—thanks to the elevator doors that still held the ‘out of service’ sign. i unlocked the door and stepped inside, greeted by the sound of soft giggles and the faint hum of the tv.

“y/n!”

my five-year-old brother, lukas, came barreling down the hallway, his tiny socks sliding across the hardwood floor. he launched himself into my arms, and i dropped my bag just in time to catch him.

“hey, buddy,” i said, ruffling his messy curls. “did you have a good night?”

he nodded enthusiastically. “we had chicken nuggets, and i beat the boss level in my game! liam helped me.”

i glanced up as liam, our neighbor’s teenage son and occasional babysitter, appeared in the doorway with a sheepish smile. “he insisted on showing me his video game skills,” liam said, shrugging. “and he was pretty good.”

“thanks for staying late,” i said, shifting lukas onto my hip.

“no problem. he’s a great kid,” liam replied, grabbing his backpack. “anything else you need?”

“no, we’re good. i’ll text you about next week,” i said as he headed out the door.

once it was just me and lukas, i carried him to the couch and set him down. “it’s bedtime,” i said, giving him a stern look.

“five more minutes?” he asked, his wide eyes pleading.

i sighed, already feeling the exhaustion from the day creeping in. “five minutes. then brush your teeth.”

lukas grinned, turning his attention back to the cartoon on the tv, while i went into the kitchen. the sink was full of dishes i hadn’t gotten to this morning, and there was a pile of unopened mail on the counter. i leaned against the counter and rubbed my temples, trying to ignore the growing list of things i needed to handle.

between my classes, tutoring, and my part-time job at the diner across from campus, i barely had enough hours in the day. add taking care of lukas to the mix, and it felt like i was constantly teetering on the edge of burnout. but i didn’t have a choice.

after mum died two years ago, it was just the two of us. dad hadn’t been in the picture for years—not that it mattered. i wasn’t about to let anyone else decide what happened to lukas. he was mine to protect now.

“y/n?” lukas’ small voice pulled me from my thoughts. he stood in the doorway, clutching his stuffed dinosaur.

“yeah, lukey?” i asked, straightening up.

“are you okay?”

i forced a smile. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?”

he tilted his head like he didn’t quite believe me. “you look sad.”

my chest tightened, but i crossed the room and knelt in front of him. “i’m not sad,” i said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “i’m just tired. but i’ll always have time for you, okay?”

“okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around my neck.

as i hugged him back, i thought about the crumpled bills in my wallet, the overdue rent notice i’d stuffed into my bag, and the tutoring session i’d somehow agreed to with lando norris.

i had no idea how i was going to balance everything, but for lukas, i had to, “let’s get you to bed, luke.”

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° .• *₊ ° . *☆. °:

— longer note ; ignore me starting a new series when i’ve only posted 3 chapters of my other series lollll umm sorry. anyways im so much more excited and motivated to write for this story so ‘packing it up’ can wait til im interested in her again im sorry.

— taglist ; im open to making one if anyone’s interested ahhahah

[gruesomejack]

If they were laying down, he would've insisted on staying longer. Charlie was so gentle with the way he touched him, and the absence of him as he moved away almost had him reaching to pull him back. It felt like a piece of him had gone to wander off and the yearning for his return was immediate. The big beautiful grin on his face eased the little bit of tension in his chest; Vi flashed one of his own and nodded. "Hurry back."

Flopping back on the bed, he stared up at the ceiling and brought a hand to his chest. His heart was still fluttering and all he could think about was Charlie's offer to come back during his down season. It'd been a casual comment then, but now he was really considering it. They'd only known each other for a little while, but the idea of staying close to him filled him with such a warm, airy happiness he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before. Charlie had been a constant on his mind the past few weeks. He'd written songs about him and poems, and he knew the second he had a moment to sit, he'd be writing more. And the best part about it is that he wanted to share them with him. He wanted to watch him blush and squirm, but still pull him to that piano to help him smooth out the rough edges. They could make beautiful music together-- both figuratively and literally.

The sound of Charlie's footsteps had him propping himself back up, his face blooming into another smile for him. "Flattery comes with the job, but it sounds so genuine falling from your lips, I'm starting to think you really mean it..." He teased, his eyes sparkling softly. Shifting for him, he let him wipe him down, his gaze following each of his movements while he reached out to brush his fingers along Charlie's arm. "I don't know how much clearer I can get." He said and laughed a little, "Spending time with you has made me so genuinely happy..." Vi hesitated, but pulled him down again and into a warm kiss. He lingered against his lips and let his fingers roam along his skin. "As long as you're into it, I'll be stopping by a lot more often." He told him, his voice soft. "I'll let you burn all my cooking if it means I get to hang around."

Victory checked his phone again, opening the messaging app and confirming for the hundredth time this was the right spot. He'd pulled off some kind of miracle in the last month, not only getting in contact with one of his favorite artists, but managing to keep it going almost regularly. And now he was standing outside of an unfamiliar building on an unfamiliar street in the middle of Appalachian nowhere, getting ready to meet him in person.

He'd dressed down for the occasion, mostly for his own sake, but for Charlie's too. His own success was leading to more and more people clocking him while he was out, and he doubted dressing like Elton John would help him blend in in a place like this. The bleached hair he'd been sporting recently was tucked nicely under a baseball cap, his extensive ink work covered by a baggy sweatshirt. He'd even taken his earrings out in a rush, storing them in his pocket when he realized he'd forgotten to leave them in his hotel room. The last thing Charlie needed was to be bombarded because he agreed to meet him.

In the middle of using his phone screen as a mirror, his eyes widened as it lit up with a text. Vi quickly shoved it in his pocket and gave a quick sweep of the area. He frowned for a moment, but before he could pull out his phone again, his eyes landed on a familiar face, his own quickly brightening into a grin. Bouncing on his feet, he laughed as he waved his arms to usher his pen pal over.

Charlie Reimes. Cane Corso had been a staple on his playlists for years, and here was the frontman in the flesh. -- All because he'd gotten drunk and too bold, sending him what was an embarrassing DM expressing his admiration. It was a testament to maybe not all of his questionable choices led to questionable outcomes.

Beaming, he practically hopped the rest of the way over to him, his smile toothy, cheeks pink, and his eyes crinkled. "I can't believe it! I don't think you understand how massive this is to me." He said, babbling a little in his excitement. "I can't even begin to thank you. You've been such an inspiration to me forever and-" Oh! Oh, shit. Face flooding with color, he lifted his hands to wave off the starstruck gibberish, and instead offered him his palm. "I-I'm Vi." He managed, "It's nice to see you in person."

@purposefully-lost

[simari]

The Talk

The sun poured through the large windows of Alessandra’s sunlit kitchen. Vibrant paintings adorned the walls, each reflecting her artistic spirit. Enzo stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over the room before landing on Alessandra, who stood by the island, a radiant smile on her face. He couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate her; she looked stunning, her hair cascading in soft waves, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Wow, Alessandra, your place is beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Thanks, Enzo! It’s still a work in progress, but I’m glad you like it,” she replied, a playful glint in her eye. But as he continued to stare, she raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “Do you want an autograph or something?” she laughed lightly.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Autograph? Nah, I have the real thing.” His eyes twinkled with mischief, and Alessandra felt a blush creep up her cheeks, a warmth blooming in her chest.

“Smooth talker,” she said, rolling her eyes in jest before motioning for him to take a seat at the island. As Enzo settled in, the atmosphere shifted slightly; the laughter faded, and a more serious tone took over.

“Ally, I want to apologize again. I’m sorry my selfish decisions cost you your relationship with Lucian,” he said earnestly, his expression turning somber.

Alessandra paused, her gaze drifting as she considered his words. “Enzo, I forgive you but I’m over this arguing. I miss you. You’re my best fucking friend, and nothing will ever change that.” She took a deep breath, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I was too upset at the time, but Lucian wasn’t anything serious, and you proved that to me. Fuck him.”

Enzo’s eyes widened in surprise, a grin breaking through his serious demeanor. “Damn woman, you got a mouth on you! In public, you act so proper. Do I sense an imposter?” he joked, unable to resist the opportunity to lighten the mood.

Alessandra laughed, the sound brightening the room. “Nope, but with you, I can be myself.” She met his gaze, and for a moment, they both felt the invisible thread that connected them, stronger than any quarrel could sever.

“Ally, I’m incredibly proud of you and how far you’ve come,” Enzo said, sincerity lacing his voice. “Speaking of which, when do I get an original ‘Alessandra De Laurentis’ art piece, huh?” He grinned, leaning back slightly, as if preparing for a playful argument.

She rolled her eyes playfully, crossing her arms. “It’s called hard work, Enzo. I was actually going to ask you, when can we pick up training again? I miss working out and, I guess, being around you.”

He nodded, his expression brightening at the thought. “We can start whenever. Just hit me up; you know my number.”

Alessandra looked at him, her heart swelling with affection for her friend. She suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to bridge the gap that had formed between them during their quarrel. Without thinking twice, she stood up and enveloped him in the biggest hug she could muster.

“I missed you, Enzo,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, her heart racing as she felt him wrap his arms around her.

Enzo smiled into her hair, running his fingers gently through it. “I missed you too, Ally,” he replied softly. The warmth of their embrace melted away the remnants of their previous tension, and in that moment, it felt as if time stood still. They both knew that this was only the beginning of mending their friendship, but the love and respect they had for each other would guide them through.

As they pulled away, Alessandra looked into his eyes, a newfound determination in her expression. “Let’s make sure we don’t let anything come between us again, okay?”

“Agreed,” Enzo said, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “To us, and to getting back to where we were.”

“To us,” Alessandra echoed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. They both knew the road ahead might have its bumps, but together, they were ready to face whatever came their way.

[snippydippy]

So, Tiktok's back. After only about ten hours.

When it went down (several hours ahead of schedule, as if plans had to be moved forward), we got a notice praising trump for trying to help the app, and a video from Tiktok's CEO expressing the same sentiment.

This was already a massive red flag to me. Trump was the one who started the TikTok ban idea in the first place. It was literally a part of his campaign after TikTok was used to prove he was lying about his rally attendance numbers.

Despite this, Tiktok has been given a 90-day extension by the Trump administration. This 90-day extension is contingent on a deal already being in motion to sell Tiktok (in full or in majority shares), to an American company.

The CEOs for both TikTok and Meta are expected to be at Trump's inauguration tomorrow. Facebook also started pushing a "link your meta to Tiktok" option the day before the ban took place, and they now have an official Tiktok page after keeping the two companies as strictly separate competitors for years. It is my belief that this all points to Mark Zuckerberg having bought/merged with TikTok. Something that had likely been planned for a while, with last night's brief and early shut-down being a stunt to upset all of us who've come to rely on TikTok for a variety of reasons.

Whether you're one of the 7 million content creators or small business owners who legitimately earned your living off the app, or simply a part of the 170 million Americans (half the fuckin' country) who became attached to it from healthy community interaction, news dependency, or even a toxic addiction to it's quick and easy dopamine (I am a mix of all of these, personally), the ban going into affect last night likely caused you an amount of stress. Anguish, even, depending on your situation.

But now, as of this morning, Trump is suddenly our savior. After about two years of him pushing his opinion that Tiktok should be banned, now one of the richest men in the country and his company stands to benefit from Tiktok sticking around. And so will Trump, with Zuckerberg's money in his pocket.

I'm glad it's back, truly. I love Tiktok and the people I've met there, the communities fostered and the hard-working Americans who've found success on the platform. However, selling to Meta is NOT good.

Zuckerberg is nothing but an elite POS. He does not care about you, his company and all of his apps have ALWAYS been more predatory with your data than Tiktok EVER was. Meta has collected more of it, sold it to more advertisers and private investors with an interest in the public's free-time habits, and has done nothing if not try to monopolize your presence online.

Tiktok's algorithm may end up changing. It may end up having to bend to Meta's whims. Less personalization, more of your data being sold to advertisment that we might see an increase in. Shadow-bans, community muffling, news censorship and political biases being promoted, etc.

I don't know what I suggest doing about this. Even though it would be the best move, I would be a hypocrite to say "remove all meta associated apps from your phone." I can't delete my Facebook/meta account. Not without dedicating a flashdrive or several to saving pictures, videos and posts as pieces of my life from the past 15 years I have been on this website. I know many others feel the same, there isn't really anywhere else we can go. That is by design.

I know RedNote is where a lot of folks went, and I genuinely think the cultural exchange on that app between American and Chinese citizens is a wonderful thing, but I do not feel right about signing up for an app that is explicitly owned by the Chinese government anymore than I would on an app explicitly owned by our own (which, Meta practically is. They just get to hide behind a thin veil of a "private company". One that can pay to control political decisions. Our government is its own private company, but I digress). Bluesky might be the best alternative, but its Twitter-like format is annoying to me, personally.

TL;DR

I guess all of this is just to say; Don't fall for this shit. It's all extremely fishy and smells like Trump raising his approval rating with young voters, and Zuckerberg extending his reach over the way we all connect with each other and raising his net worth. Please stay as aware as you can.

More than just a "haha funny app", TikTok grew to be the most important way that hundred of millions of Americans connected with each other.

It is how WE THE PEOPLE connect. Potentially losing it to yet another leading company in the oligarchy our country truly is, its a blow to all of us, regardless of what political party you identify with.

[thegh0sting]

Finally posting some art!

This is my first print-sized piece and it took me 2 whole days to finish, the damn thing is so big and I was fighting for my life with several different things (the lighting and background painting) But it's all worth it in the end because I absolutely love it <3

Characters featured from left to right are my oc Amaruq and her horse Tamannuk of the Moon circle, Gunnar and Morrigan from the SSO comics by Elli, and finally Yrsa and her horse Ālka of the Lightning circle (belonging to the lovely @crawlingwithmagg0ts)

Expect to see so much more of all of these characters, because I adore each and every single one of them

[problematic-president]

As much as i am a martin van buren fan who would love to see more depictions of him in media, i genuinely think a biographical adaptation of his life like a musical, movie, series, etc just wouldn't work, mainly because he works so much better as a "side character". I feel the fun part of writing a character like him would be to make the audience wonder whether he can be trusted, and seeing all the sneaky stuff he pulls behind the scenes. Also i just don't think his life story is interesting enough to merit an entire adaptation #SORRY

[shroommush]

Thank you to @blipple-is-confused for creating one of my favourite slimecicle fics ever, and heres to every fic to come after-

Paradoxcicle

[quietwingsinthesky]

sometimes interpreting media through a shipping lens enhances it, on occasion even beyond the author’s original intent, but sometimes, you do have to accept that your ship was not in the heads of anyone making the source material and trying to force it to fit into evidence of your ship will severely hinder your ability to discuss the actual text.

[liliaceaae]

I know it isn’t over quite yet, but I’m really proud of how far my art has come this year :)

I’m finally starting to look at my gallery and enjoying what I’ve collected. Never underestimate the power of a hyperfixation lol

[thedreadvampy]

so me and Sam FINALLY watched the last season of Capaldi's Who

and tell me how, after literally over a decade and for perhaps the first time in his fucking career, Steven Moffat wrote a not just tolerable but really actually good two-parter and fully stuck the landing. like the editing and pacing were still a bit off but the storyline was original, fun, interesting and emotionally invested, and most importantly, rather than ending on a damp fart or the most furious autofellatio in history, the final part didn't fumble it and ended in a way that felt emotionally satisfying and like it made sense for the characters. like the last time he successfully wrapped up a multiparter in a way that didn't feel cheap and hollowly disappointing to me was literally The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, and a) that was in 2005 and b) tbh The Doctor Dances is about a tenth as compelling and memorable as The Empty Child.

so after 12 years of either hackery or great ideas that fall apart in the second act, Steven Moffat writes what I would genuinely consider to be a memorable Good Doctor Who serial. it ends with bittersweet pathos, a solid closer for all the main characters, and sends Moffat's showrunning career out on a genuine high despite failing ratings and budget cuts (and the fact Doctor Who hasn't been consistently good since about 2009). good job Steve. with grudging respect I admit you pulled it out of the bag on this one.

wait what's this there's one more episode left? and it stars Mark Gatiss? and you literally spend the whole episode inexplicably just shitting all over the legacy of Doctor Who by inventing a version of the First Doctor that bears literally no resemblance to the character that William Hartnell actually played, just so you can spend the whole episode saying misogynistic things to run yourself off to how much more Totally Feminist your version was than the version you made up in your head of what Doctor Who was like in the 60s? and it added literally nothing to the season except to take all the wind out of the sails of the actually good finale you already wrote?

even when he writes a good episode this fucker still finds ways to disappoint me.

[beebmo]

ok i finished emesis blue. i am emotionally devastated and i will never be the same ever again

[eijminds]

i finished reading jjk yesterday IM SO SAD i feel so fucking empty

[ame-to-ame]

there are things that you don't do for a year or more and pick up just right where you left off and these days i fear loving you might be one of them

[kyouka-supremacy]

I connected the dots

[goldendiie]

it doesn’t matter what i write or what new stories i come up with for sargemore. the third blink will always be my best one. knocked out a home run in the first inning of the game. touchdown motherfucker. it don’t get better than that.