#google said he is

[scrollonso]

Magnetic — Lawhan

pspspsps @ellearts

Jack never thought yearning could feel this intense, let alone directed at someone he’d been friends with for years. This was Liam, after all.

Liam Lawson, his closest friend on the track, his fiercest — favourite — competitor. They'd grown up racing side by side, knowing each other’s moves almost as well as their own, sharing stories of victories and defeats. Jack had always looked up to him, admired the way Liam raced with such confidence, as if the whole world was nothing but open road, his to conquer. But somewhere along the way, something had changed. That admiration had turned into something deeper, something that tugged at Jack every time he saw Liam’s familiar smile or heard his laugh ring out in the garage.

Jack found himself watching Liam more and more, captivated by the easy way he carried himself, the way he leaned into his teammates with that same grin that had once been Jack’s to share. Racing alongside him had once been enough, but now, watching Liam soar through challenges, standing out among everyone in the VCARB paddock, left Jack feeling hollow. His gaze lingered, too often and too long, trailing after Liam as he moved through the crowd, every laugh, every smile lighting up something in Jack’s chest that felt both thrilling and painful.

And the ache — God, it was impossible to ignore. Watching Liam laugh with others was like a punch to the gut, every casual joke or fleeting touch sparking something sharp and possessive inside Jack. He wanted to be the one making Liam laugh, the one who knew him better than anyone else. But that role was slipping away, and he couldn’t stand it.

One evening, the two were sitting in the Alpine garage after a long day of practice. Liam was scrolling through his phone, laughing at a message from someone on his team, oblivious to Jack's quiet stare. Jack could barely focus, his mind swirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite voice. The silence stretched on until he couldn’t take it anymore.

"Liam," Jack said, his voice a bit rougher than he intended. Liam looked up, still smiling, but Jack couldn’t match it. "D’you ever think about…what we’d be like on the same team again? You know, spending more time together?"

Liam shrugged, his expression casual. "Yeah, sometimes," he said. "But, hey, you’re doing amazing with Alpine. You’re gonna make headlines before you know it." He nudged Jack playfully, but Jack barely felt it — he barely felt anything besides want when it came to Liam nowadays.

"Right," Jack muttered, glancing away. He tried to summon a smile, but it felt strained. "I just miss it, I guess — when it was just us, you know? Feels like we barely have time these days."

Liam laughed, the sound light and carefree. "C’mon, Jack, it’s not like I’m going anywhere! Besides, you could always hang with the vcarb guys if you’re that lonely." He grinned, but Jack’s chest tightened.

"Maybe I don’t want to hang with the vcarb guys," Jack replied, more bluntly than he meant. Liam’s smile faltered, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes.

"Then what do you want, Jack?" he asked, voice softening, as if he could sense there was more to it. Jack’s heart thudded, panic rising as he realized just how close he was to admitting everything.

"I… I don’t know," Jack stammered, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow. "Forget it. It’s stupid."

But Liam didn’t look away, his gaze steady, questioning. "You sure about that?" he asked, and for a moment, Jack swore he saw something else there — an invitation, a spark that made him want to say everything.

But Jack only nodded, swallowing the words that threatened to spill out. "Yeah," he whispered, looking down. "It’s nothing."

The realization settled in gradually — Jack wanted more than friendship, more than the shared laughs and camaraderie they’d had for years. It was a slow, quiet ache that grew every time he saw Liam, lurking beneath his every smile, every laugh, every word. It was impossible to shake off, coming alive whenever Jack caught Liam chatting animatedly with his teammates, or throwing effortless grins to rival drivers in the paddock. But as bad as that longing felt, it was nothing compared to the jealousy that flared up when Liam was with his own team.

The vcarb team was tight-knit, practically family, with inside jokes and unspoken bonds that Jack felt he could never understand. They celebrated the small things — like one point or making it to Q2 — together, rallied around Liam and Yuki, Jack couldn't help but feel like an outsider looking in, even with his own success at Alpine. They had something Jack wanted — a closeness with Liam that went beyond the race and the track. He'd see them congratulate him after every race, hands on his shoulders, laughter and cheers surrounding him. It cut Jack deeper than he wanted to admit, this constant reminder that Liam belonged somewhere he couldn’t reach, no matter how much he tried to hide the ache.

Race days were the worst. Watching Liam out there, pushing himself, his eyes blazing with focus and determination — Jack knew that feeling well, but this was different. His heart twisted as he watched Liam celebrate with his team, every cheer, every pat on the back a reminder of his own isolation. Whether Liam won or lost didn’t matter; his team celebrated him anyway, lifting him up, and Jack stood there alone, forced to bury his feelings beneath a layer of polite applause and tight smiles. He should have been happy for him — really, of course he was — but there was an undeniable urge to be the one beside him, sharing those highs, claiming even a small piece of Liam’s world as his own. Claiming a small piece of Liam as his own.

Jack wanted to be the one Liam looked for after every race, someone he’d come to with that lopsided grin, laughing or venting or sharing a quiet moment, win or lose. Instead, all he got were fleeting glances and polite messages, the kind you’d exchange with any friend in the paddock. Jack knew he had no right to feel this way — Liam was his own person, and Jack’s feelings were his problem. But knowing that didn’t make the ache go away.

One evening after a particularly grueling race — though, aren't they all grueling? — Jack found Liam alone in the garage, resting against a stack of tires, looking out at the darkening track. There was a quiet calm in the air, and Jack knew he couldn’t let this moment slip by, not without saying something.

"Hey, Li,” Jack called softly. Liam glanced over, eyebrows raised in surprise, but then his face lit up with that easy smile that made Jack’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey! Wild race, right?” Liam chuckled, the excitement still lingering in his voice. But Jack couldn’t bring himself to join in; instead, he swallowed and took a breath, feeling the weight of his feelings pressing down harder than ever.

“Yeah… crazy,” Jack muttered, his gaze dropping to the floor. He hesitated, his heart pounding, but finally, he looked back up, locking onto Liam’s curious gaze. “Sometimes I… I wish things were different.”

Liam’s smile faded as he tilted his head, brows knitting together. “Different how?”

Jack’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t planned on saying this, but he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer. “I just… I see you with your team, and you’re all so close, like a family. And I…” His voice wavered, but Liam stayed silent, watching him intently. “I want to be closer, Liam. To you. Not just as a friend, but… more than that.”

The air between them grew thick with the weight of Jack’s admission. Liam’s eyes widened in surprise, and Jack could feel his pulse hammering, wondering if he’d gone too far. But Liam didn’t pull away — instead, he seemed to be searching Jack’s face, taking in the vulnerability there.

“Jack…” Liam’s voice was barely above a whisper, tinged with uncertainty. “I had no idea.”

Jack tried to force a casual smile, as if he hadn’t just laid himself bare, but the ache in his chest was almost unbearable. “It’s okay, really. You don’t have to say anything. I just… I needed you to know. Because watching from a distance… it’s been harder than I thought it’d be.”

Liam didn’t answer right away, just kept looking at Jack, his expression softening. After a long pause, he reached out, placing a hand gently on Jack’s shoulder. “You mean more to me than just a friend, Jack,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. And then, almost as if testing the waters, Liam leaned forward, his breath warm against Jack’s skin.

Jack’s heart stuttered, and before he could second-guess himself, he closed the gap, his lips pressing softly to Liam’s. It was tentative, a brush of warmth that held every ounce of his longing, every unspoken word he hadn’t dared to say.

For a heartbeat, Liam seemed frozen, but then he responded, his hand sliding up to cup Jack’s face, deepening the kiss with a sweetness that sent a shiver down Jack’s spine. In that moment, the world around them melted away — all the noise, the crowds, the endless races — none of it mattered. It was just them, finally stepping beyond the unspoken, finally giving in to everything they’d both been holding back.

When they finally pulled back, breathless, Liam’s hand lingered against Jack’s cheek, his eyes soft and a little dazed. “Maybe… we don’t have to watch from a distance anymore.”

Jack’s lips curved into a smile, hope lighting up in his chest as he tightened his grip on Liam’s hand. “I’d like that.”

[keferon]

Did you think I was done? Ahahahaha no, I have more.

Because chapter 70 of MOMU gave me the very dynamic between them that I missed so much, I just blacked out and started drawing uncontrollably lmao

Also. ALSO. I noticed a while ago that Prowl has the habit of..like…constantly frowning. So. I did a bit of research and made this graph.

In 70 chapters, Prowl frowns rougly 104 times. And the intensity of this gesture is very clearly correlated with the development of his relationship with Jazz, as you can see ahahahahah It might be wrong tho don’t take me seriously I’m not good with graphs

[honeyhobbs]

A little Gaz drawing as a treat 🫶

[inkskinned]

so one time i got bit by a brown recluse which is one of the only types of spider in my area that's actually dangerous and at first i didn't know what had happened to me, only that it was nasty. the swelling wasn't going down and the wound started to get ugly. i don't want to like get into the details because that's gross but it got to the point 2 weeks later that i was worried enough to go to the doctor, which i hate doing.

i am not afraid of spiders but other people are so i'd been covering it with this big ole square bandage (i needed more landscape coverage than a simple bandaid) and sat in the university medical waiting room, kicking my heels and playing BOTW. the nurse who admitted me was like, oh, we have got to get Tom to cover this one. she wrote spider bite under my ticket.

i waited in the near-empty building for like an hour and then nurse tom shows up in spiderman scrubs, out of breath. "sorry," he says, "i saw - your slip - and I had," he heaves in a breath, "to run home and. get. these scrubs. i literally. ran. felt like a job. for. spiderman."

i laugh. he puts his hands on his knees, thumbs-ups at me. fishes a pamphlet out from under his clipboard that basically says spiders can be scary but you don't need to be scared, there's very few dangerous spiders in new england. "honestly," he wheezes, "we probably don't need to get you into an exam room. just..." he waves his hand at the pamphlet, "read that."

i look down at my arm. then back at him in his scrubs. and then down at my arm. i like that he made an effort to make a joke, but now it does not feel like a good joke, because they are mistaking my calm for a lack of injury. "can i. like. at least show you the bite?"

he gives me kind of a weird look, which is fair, but then says. "if. i mean, if you have to."

i peel the bandage off. his face goes green.

"oh," he says.

"yeah, man."

"a... spider bit you?" his voice is high and tight and trembling. he backs up a few steps.

"i think a brown recluse," i offer. "i know it's nasty, sorry."

"excuse me for a moment." he looks over to the administering nurse on the other side of the small room. "i need to find someone else to take care of you."

the administering nurse smiles over to us with a degree of pleasure that is almost salivating. for a moment, like a window opening, i am briefly aware of what must be a psychic message floating amongst the in-between. her jaguar teeth all say this is like a party for me and i know exactly what i'm doing.

"oh no, tom," she says, grinning. "i gave her to you specifically."

[astrobei]

in my heart of hearts mike wheeler is absolutely an athena kid but i also have to offer up a concept that i think has extreme comedic and dramatic potential aka: repressed gay teenager mike showing up at camp half blood unsure of who his godly parent is and feeling insecure about not having powers and one day when he’s making not-so-secret heart eyes at his best friend and son of apollo will byers is when a bunch of glowing floating hearts show up above his head. and that’s how mike gets claimed by none other than aphrodite, the goddess of love and sexuality, and is in full denial about it for three days because he thinks it’s some kind of sick and twisted JOKE

(on aphrodite’s end, she’s upset mike is throwing away the gift of true love and keeps trying to trick him out of repression by making more and more improbable and hilarious gifts appear when he and will are hanging out. mike hands will a book and it turns into a box of chocolates and he has to fling it away like a frisbee before will sees it. they’re having lunch and romantic music starts playing. she gives mike the same blessing she used to claim piper and will can’t even look in his direction for a full day because he starts blushing so hard. fifty bouquets of flowers show up at the apollo cabin’s doorstep with a note that says love, mike and by the end of it, mike isn’t even repressed and unsure about his sexuality anymore — he’s just trying to not throw himself into the bonfire out of sheer embarrassment)

[faunandfloraas]

This is how I'm gonna sign off my emails from now on

[oneanothername]

[yridenergyridenergy]

Vicious August 1998

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of our neighbors is this nosy lady with an awful little chihuahua that comes up and barks at us and shits where it wants because she never has it on leash. It makes me furious.

She saw me taking Wyvern out and asked if he was new. I said yes, he’s still getting the hang of things. She asked his breed and he’s honest to god the muttiest mutt I’ve ever seen. Big time dog people in my life are stumped when they see him because he’s honestly bizarre and doesn’t harken very strongly to any established breed.

When I said he was a mutt though she said, “Probably a pit bull, look at that face!”

And I looked at Wyverns face and was frankly shocked anyone would think he looked like a pit bull. But from her tone and body language I was wary of her spreading it around and said truthfully, “Well, the only thing all the siblings in his litter looked like was border collie, so probably the most of that.”

She wandered away unconvinced and I told my betrothed later, “Okay, I need you to practice this lie with me.”

“Okay?”

“When people ask what Wyvern is you’re gonna say he’s a border collie, akita mix, okay?”

They laughed but agreed. It’s a weird enough mix that I doubt he’ll raise eyebrows and his coloring could be Akita for all I know.

There’s way more mistrust and legislation against pitbulls that I feel is undeserved, but we’ll certainly be worse off if she starts spreading around that he’s a pibble.

[skitskatdacat63]

Google, play "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails

[teiasviago]

#Tav: *adds “make Gale a father” to their list of things to do when they get back to Waterdeep* - [5/∞]

[blamemma]

guys i think daniel has met the guy from the max video last year we all thought was his doppleganger...

[sea-buns]

Despite all of his failed insight checks across every season, Gorgug is forever the insight guy to me. Which is even more insane considering his wis is 12. But it just suits him so perfectly. Stats be damned, you ask me who my go-to for insight is in that group, I'm gonna say Gorgug almost immediately. And I don't even think that's because he does insight so often—in my head he's just genuinely good at it. In specific circumstances, yes other bad kids are much better suited for it than he is. But Gorgug carries this aura of emotional intelligence and awareness that trounces any other statistical or contextual factor.

Even in the way he prompts things. Like with the connection to Lydia and the red crystals, for example. Any time he poses a question that knocks us all on our asses, it's always in the form of an insight check. It's always insight, even when it's this crazy revelation about some insane magical bullshit that you'd prolly attribute more towards int or arcana. But IN THAT CONTEXT, for HIM, insight makes the MOST sense. It's his thing.

Can barbarians have proficiency in insight? Can artificers? Can barbarian-artificers? Maybe it's odd in a dnd party for the rage-guy to come off as the most emotionally intuitive. But if any one of the bad kids were to have it, I'd assume Gorgug, without question.

[eneasbastianini]

my biggest off-season hobby is watching old races and when commentary alludes to some rosquez crimes in another session i immediately abandon the race to find out what attention seeking horrors they were embroiled in and nine times out of ten they’re just hilarious like what was this please

[aphrosephone119]

How I think the final scene of 4x10 should've gone with the Pogues around the bonfire.

"The crown..." Kiara said suddenly, startling the group from their thoughts.

"What?" Pope replied with a sigh. He was so exhausted, and the crying had just made him even more tired.

"The crown! The blue crown! It grants the wearer a wish, right?" Kie glances around at her friends, waiting for them to confirm.

"Supposedly... Buts it's probably just a myth like the whole curse thing. Why?" John B asked, not really with it and staring into the blazing fire in front of him.

"What if it's real? What if we can get that crown and use the wish?" The pogues look towards Kie with mixed expressions. Some understood where she was going with this, but others, John B and Pope, were still confused, not able to really think straight.

"You're thinking what I think you're thinking, aren't you?" Cleo announces, standing from her spot on the sand.

Then it clicks for the boys.

"Kie, you can't be seriously suggesting that?" John B says, pulling at the bandana around his neck.

"Why not? After what just happened, we have nothing left to lose, John B."

He rubs at his head, trying to think through what Kiara was saying.

"Look. We find Groff, kill him, obviously, get the crown, and see if it works. What's the harm in trying this?" Kie stands, making her point known.

"He's gone, Ki-"

"NO! He's not. He's not gone, Sarah, because we have a way to bring him back! I- I can't... I won't- Guys I can't go on without him... I can't leave here knowing he's out there buried in the desert alone in the dark. John B, you KNOW how much he hates being left on his own! How much he hates being in the dark. We can't get leave him here when there's a way to bring him back!"

The group fell silent, Kiara's words cutting through the night like the crackling of the fire. John B glanced at Sarah, her eyes glossy and rimmed with tears. Cleo crossed her arms and looked out into the horizon as though trying to see the future written in the stars.

"Kie..." John B started, unsure how to continue after the speech his friend had just made.

"We're bringing him back, John B. Where's your faith?! I thought he was your best frie-"

"Don't!" John B interrupted, tear tracks now dried to his face as his red rimmed eyes looked up at the girl from over the fire.

"JJ was my best friend. He was my brother. Don't you dare try to use that against me, Kie."

Kiara took a step back, her breath hitching as John B's sharp tone echoed through her. The others stared at the two, waiting for someone to break the tension.

"I'm not trying to use it against you." Kie whispered, her voice trembling.

"I'm just saying... he wouldn't give up on any of us. Not ever. So how can we give up on him?"

John B's jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"And what if the crown doesn't work? What if it's all just a stupid story and we risk our lives for nothing? What then, Kie? What if we do this and we lose someone else?"

Kiara stepped closer to him, her eyes burning with despair and sorrow.

"And what if it does work, John B? What if we get him back? We owe it to him to try. I can’t-” Her voice broke, and she swallowed hard before continuing.

“I can’t live with myself if I don’t at least try. I'll have to look my dad in the eye and tell him JJ's gone...”

"Your dad hated JJ."

"No. He WAS JJ. He used to be JJ when he was a teen. He saw himself in him. He wouldn't want JJ-... He wouldn't want JJ dead."

The others really didn't know how to respond to that. Kiara spoke up again.

"Pope... Would you be able to tell your folks what happened? would you be able to look Heyward in the eye and tell him? Tell him what happened?"

Pope's expression hardened as Kiara's words hit him. He stared down at the sand, the firelight casting shadows across his face. He thought about his dad. About how much Heyward loved JJ, even if he didn’t always show it. The idea of walking into the shop, seeing his dad’s hopeful face, and having to crush it with the truth made his stomach turn.

“No,” Pope admitted quietly.

“I couldn’t. I can’t.”

Kiara nodded, her resolve growing stronger with Pope’s agreement.

“Then we do this. Together.”

The group was silent again, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the waves lapping at the shore. Finally, Sarah broke the tension.

“Kie's right.” she said softly.

“JJ would never give up on us. Not ever. And if there’s even a chance we can get him back…” She trailed off, glancing at John B.

John B looked around at his friends, his family, their faces lit by the flickering fire. He saw the pain in their eyes. It was the same pain he felt every time he thought about JJ’s laugh, his cheeky grin, the little 'JJ' mannerisms and actions that they all had learnt to love, even the slightly irritating ones that would result in him getting in trouble. JJ could make even the worst situations feel like an adventure... And John B couldn't even imagine himself going home without his brother.

"Alright."

He said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

"We’ll try. But we do it smart. If things go south, we'll have to pull out. We can't risk any more losses. JJ wouldn't want us to sacrifice ourselves for him."

Kiara’s face lit up with relief and determination.

“We won’t need to pull out. This is going to work. It has to.”

"Well I, for one, am down to kill that scamming prick." Came a voice behind John B.

Oh. They'd forgotten Rafe was there too.

He was ready to take on Groff no matter what.

“So what’s the plan?”

Cleo asked, sitting down cross-legged and pulling out her knife to idly sharpen it.

“Groff's our only lead. We track him down, he couldn't have gotten far. This place is massive. We get the crown, and…”

She hesitated for a moment.

“...we bring JJ back.”

“And if Groff doesn’t have the crown?” Pope asked cautiously. There's always a chance those others had found him by now and taken the crown for themselves.

“Then we keep looking." Kiara replied firmly.

“Whatever it takes.”

John B sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Alright. Tomorrow, we start tracking him. We'll start at first light. But tonight…” His voice faltered, and he looked deep into the flames.

“Tonight, we remember JJ.”

[art-o-gant]

just look at him omg