#it is still so different on my phone maybe its my settings - if its not tell me gently

[firstprinced]

[icewindandboringhorror]

I've referenced before how I have a big google document to keep track of every media I've ever seen in my entire life (just for reference because I like to track everything possible lol… I am the Data Collector), but recently as I was updating it, I thought of actually evaluating them to find out random percentages (like for example, out of Total Shows Watched, what percentage did I finish vs. stop watching, what percentage did I like or dislike, etc.)...

Evaluating these things is made easier by the fact that I already place everything on each subsection of the list into 6 broad ranking categories, so I don't have to go back and guess to figure out how I feel about them or anything. The categories are: Ranking 5 - overall best* (despite some criticisms of course because I'm too much of an Analyzer to ever find anything Perfect lol) Ranking 4 - more positive than neutral, but not good enough to be 5 Ranking 3 - either the good + bad negate each other, OR it's just not memorable/interesting in any way enough to be ranked higher or lower (this is the Default category ALL things are placed in if no other rank applies) Ranking 2 - maybe a few redeemable elements but largely more negatives than positives Ranking 1 - So bad that it circles around to being fascinating to observe in some way (not necessarily Funny, or Good, but just interesting somehow) Ranking 0 - Bad in a genuinely frustrating or obnoxious manner

*("best" primarily defined here as most interesting, rather than most good in a technical sense, or some other measure. I tend to value more highly whether there's something novel or thoughtful about the worldbuilding, tone, writing, base premise, etc - than about whether it's actually executed perfectly.)

And here's the amount of shows that have so far been placed into each category -

TV shows ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 20 shows ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 28 shows ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 114 shows ~ Rank 2 (mid low) -33 shows ~ Rank 1 (low low but intriguingly so) - 14 shows ~ Rank 0 (iredeemably low) - 2 shows

This would make for a total of 211 TV shows overall. However, there are 57 shows within these list marked as "didn't finish" (typically meaning I quit on the very first or second episode - but log them still to keep a record that I at least had a brief view of them).

So my total of genuinely fully watched shows would be more 154. 211 Total, but a More Accurate Total of 154.

Counting them all and using the Total Number Of The List (211) -- that means roughly 9.5% of all total shows I have ever watched (or at least attempted to watch) have been Mostly Good, 13% have been Moderately Okay, 54% have been either entirely Forgettable or some mix of good + bad that lands them right in the Neutral Middle, 15.6% have been Mostly Bad, 6.6% have been Bad (but in an interesting way), and 0.9% have been Terribly Bad.

Additionally, I didn't even get past the first two episodes of about 27% of the total.

Sooo, discounting ones I didn't finish, my total TV shows ever watched in my life would be about 154 (maybe give or take a few, assuming I might have forgotten some from very long ago).

But instead of entire life, let's just say this is the total for 'About 20 Years' (so, not counting very early childhood when I likely wouldn't remember things I saw/have no detailed recollection of them (like for example, I'm sure at some point when I was like 4yrs old I must have seen an episode of Spongebob or something, but I have zero distinct memories of it, can't quote anything of it, and barely recall the premise - so I don't count it on the list, etc.)).

In that case, 154 divided by 20 would be roughly 7.7 shows a year.

Which is actually surprisingly low considering that I often have stuff on in the background for hours whilst I make sculptures and do costumes and stuff (maybe I should have also marked some distinction between 'things I fully paid attention to' and 'things I kind of half listened to whilst sculpting', but that would further split the categories too much probably lol), but I guess a lot of that is youtube videos or random documentaries, so .. eh.. maybe I get it being lower.

Now, doing the same thing for movies-

Movies ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 4 movies (3.4% of total) ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 12 movies (10.3% of total) ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 91 movies (78.4% of total) ~ Rank 2 (mid low) - 8 movies (6.8% of total) ~ Rank 1 (low but interesting) - 1 movie (0.8% of total) ~ Rank 0 (irredeemably low) - none in this category (0%)

That makes 116 for a Total (Actually Remembered) Movies Watched In Lifetime (Or At Least In 20 Years).

116 divided by 20 is roughly 5 or 6 movies a year (I feel this has probably been skewed though by adding everything since like elementary school onwards, as I remember a lot more movies from child/teen years.. Whereas, the past 3 years I feel like I've barely seen maybe even 5 movies?? lol). I also have "Didn't Finish" marked on 18 of them. Which means I quit halfway through about 15% of the total movies.

So, a for broader summary stuff..

I seem to be less forgiving to movies than tv shows, by far. Which makes sense to me, I guess, because I love elaboration and details, so "short form" things that only last an hour or two are often lost on me a bit. My biggest complaint with movies is indeed usually walking away just wishing there had been more exposition, more scenes where characters are doing nothing, more "mindless bantering" conversations, more Quiet Downtime and Lore Elaboration and so on lol, so... of course most 1-2hr films end up feeling a bit Not Enough To Draw My Interest/Nothingy to me.

If you count 5 and 4 as "like" and rankings 2 to 0 as "dislike", then for TV shows I at least somewhat liked 48 of them, and at least somewhat disliked 47 of them.. So it's almost exactly the same lol. I'm just about equally as likely to find something bad as I am to find something redeeming about it. But overall, the largest chance is that I just won't really care much for it at all and it will be tossed into the 'neutral' pile, forgotten forever. Movies have a bit better of a balance, "liking" 16 of them, and "disliking" only 9 of them. So I'm slightly more likely to enjoy a movie than to find it annoying - though still VASTLY more likely to just not find it anything in particular, possibly not even finishing it.

ANYWAY.. this is vague and literally pointless, but like I said, I just really find information fun. Like my document where I've rated every apple flavor I've ever tried (like 40 of them now?), or reviewed every oreo flavor (32?), or ranking data from my entire 10 years of Trying To Make Friends process (out of 100 people, roughly 8% chance of a moderate compatibility, 3% chance of high), or etc. etc.. I love to have random pointless things to analyze I suppose lol.

I doubt anyone tracks things in their life in this same exact way, but I'd be interested in hearing any at least somewhat similar data !!! (like, how many TV shows you watch a year on average, and what percentage of those you like vs. dislike (if you keep track of that sort of thing), etc.)). I guess it might be easier with movies, since I think some people use those websites where you curate a list of movies you've seen and you can rate them or something, so maybe the numbers are already available on those places. :0

[that-tall-queer-bassist]

maybe i start writing that new fic. as a treat.

[bigwishes]

Embarrassed?

Tom sat there staring down at his phone, typing like his life depended on it.

"if this is true I will literally trade anything to get bigger, you can make me a dumb jock, make my dick small, Ill even take being a walking joke, you can take anything you like so long as I can get huge!"

He had stumbled upon a site called "give'n'take" which was claiming that it would allow him to trade something he currently has for something he wanted. He had seen claims from guys claiming to of turned into their dream self over night by giving up something that they never really liked about themselves anyway.

But it was Hard for Tom to pick something he wanted to give up, he had almost won the genetic lottery in his eyes. A fat nine inches down stairs, 6.5ft tall, a good amount of body hair, not enough to be annoying but enough to drive guys wild. Everything had made him a walking stud that oozed confidence with every step. All but one thing that is. Tom had loved bodybuilding ever since he could remember, he loved the look of huge guys and he loved the idea of being one, but on his 23rd birthday he looked in the mirror and saw after years of work he looked nothing like a bodybuilder. sure he had some size but there was no real mass. He just looked like a guy who played sport on the weekend. He wanted to be so much bigger. He got hard imagining himself being the guy who had to turn sideways to get through a door or who rocked up to a house party in gym shorts and an XXL stringer tank top that clung to him like it was about to snap. Unfortunately his height was against him, his long muscle fibers took ages to develop and when they did it was so evenly spread out it didn't look like he had done anything at all.

He'd do anything to be bigger, he'd be happy with anything taken away so long as he was huge. So he left the choice up to the people behind the screen.

---

The next morning Tom woke up and instantly felt strange, he felt off balance some how like his body had gone up 30 pounds over night and when he got up and looked in the mirror he realised...it had.

"HOLY SHIT" Tom yelled out into his empty apartment.

His body had beefed up and become more defined without any more work. He couldn't worship himself for long though as he instantly began investigating to see what had been taken, but it didn't appear like anything was missing at all.

He was still packing, he hadn't shrunk in fact he might of even gained an inch or two and he didn't have any issues remembering anything from his engineering degree or any day to day stuff. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they had forgotten to take something, or maybe because he wanted to be big so badly they cut him a break.

Tom's worries melted away as he smiled and flexed his newly enhanced biceps.

"mmm, not as huge as I was hoping for but I'll keep working on it"

Tom picked up his gym bag and decided to head out to see what his new size could do, and to stick to the habit, he didn't want all this new size to make him forget to work out and end up losing it all in a few months.

Tom arrived at the gym and changed into his workout gear but he looked and felt different was he...bigger? nah, he thought to himself, its just him getting used to being this big although as he stared at his new size in his reflection a new thought entered his mind.

"Maybe this tank top is too tight...I probably shouldn't be such a show off and buy some looser clothes to cover up"

He shook his head and decided to think about it when he got home, right now he just wanted to see how strong he had gotten.

As Tom worked out something weird was happening, he knew how to exhaust his muscle, he new how to overload the weight and really make it feel like work but as he added weight with each set it felt just as easy as the last.

He'd occasionally see his reflection in the mirror wall and he looked like he was getting even bigger, and his tank top felt even tighter than before. Surely it was just the pump he thought to himself as he continued to lift and push his body.

He sat down at the cable row and put the pin almost at the bottom of all the plates, surely this would be a struggle for him. Tom leant back and pulled when suddenly.

Cutcshhhhhhh!

the sound of ripping fabric rung out in his ear as he felt the shoulder strap snap and felt the fabric split across his back.

"aw shit" Tom said as he stood up and took of his shirt.

Immediately he saw his reflection in the mirror, he looked huge. His muscles bulging he couldn't help but pull his gym shorts up and flex, this is what he wanted to be an absolute tank...

but, everyone probably thought he was a dickhead flexing outside of the changing room, he thought to himself. He started to wonder if he was that guy now, the guy who'd workout shirtless and annoy everyone in the gym.

He noticed a few dudes looking at him like they were waiting to get on the machine. His face turned a slight pink on his cheeks and he was flushed with embarrassment.

"oh s-sorry" Tom stuttered as he quickly tried to move out the way

Originally he thought he'd just move on to the next exercise but he realised he was shirtless and bolted for the changing room. Once inside he gazed at his reflection again.

"maybe...I shoulda asked to be just a little smaller, fuck now I gotta walk outta here shirtless"

Tom couldn't get a grip and didn't no what had come over him. He had never felt a shred of embarrassment in his life but now he was worried what people would think about him being shirtless in the gym.

The changing room was empty and Tom took the time for a few more poses before he was gonna make a run for the exit. He flexed his arms as hard as he could and felt the blood rushing into the muscle, but it was strange, the muscle wasn't just pumped up, it was like it was still pumping up. He tilted his head and watch in the mirror, slowly but surely his shoulders and arms were expanding, his chest was filling with mass and size. He saw his already huge legs slowly expanding out into colossal pillars as they stretched his shorts. He could hear the fabric starting to strain and quickly bend down to get his gym bag.

The moment he leant over he heard the changing room echo with a large tearing sound as he felt the tightness relieve across his ass. Tom's face turned bright red as he quickly reaches around to make sure it was just the shorts he had split and not his underwear.

He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his underwear was still in tact, he stood up and took a step hearing has his massive thighs tore and split his shorts with just one step. He was almost at the door when he saw his hulking figure in the mirror.

He stood frozen admiring his huge body, he flexed his entire body at once loving how huge he had become, he noticed his underwear was straining and the fabric was starting to become see through and then he remembered....he had to walk through the gym like this to get out....

A wave of embarrassment washed over him, everyone was gonna be staring at him

Tom quickly grabbed his bag and made a break for it through the busy gym. He had hoped to run but his body was so big that was almost an impossible task, so jogging was next but even just a slight jog left him out of breath and gasping for air. By the time he reached the door he had multiple people staring at him confused as he was huffing and puffing like he had just run a marathon.

He swung open the door to the gym and bumped between two guys that were on their way in. Tom tried to apologise but the only noises that came out were him gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. He flashed a quick apology wave as he climbed into his car which was luckily parked right in front of the entrance.

Tom looked down trying to slow his breathing and catch his breath when he noticed his huge hard on. His dick was like steel, the thought of everyone staring at him....judging him....

Tom started his car trying to ignore it but he heard the two guys he had just bumped into talking, muffled by his window.

"bro did you see that guy, there is just a thing as too big"

Hearing those worse Tom felt a swirl of shame and embarrassment swell in his stomach and work its way to his pelvis as he started taking deep and slow breaths.

"I know right dude, and the way he was so out of breath just walking through the gym, and working out in his underwear? what a loser"

the two men walking into the gym laughing as the door shut behind them

The words echoed in Tom's ears, he couldn't help it, he gripped his steering wheel so tight he thought he was going to break it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes as his dick began to twitch and erupt. Tom let out a pathetic moan as he looked down to see not just his underwear soaked but his car seat and thighs caked in cum.

Tom looked into his rear view mirror, his head, traps and shoulders completely blocking the view, his face was flush as he felt more embarrassed than ever before in his life, He started his car and quickly reversed out.

"god...I'm such..."

His dick instantly got hard again.

"fuck, I'm so big....I'm...too big"

Tom started panting as he drove out of the parking lot.

"I'm a fucking big, freakish, loserrrr--eerruuuuughh!!"

Tom couldn't help unload himself into his underwear and over his car seat thinking about how pathetic he was...

Well...he did say he was happy for them to take anything, His confidence seemed like a fair price.

[sbcdh]

You know where the word cocaine comes from? Its Quechua. Just the name of the damn plant. I think it was 1971, maybe 72. I dunno- 

Could you start at the beginning?

Huh? Yeah, sure. Course. Uhh. Lets see…

Take your time. 

Woof. Lets see…I started in uhhh, 72. Some tiny little bottle-rocket firm sweatin for talent, head broker was this big red fatass named Ron Spade, hell of a guy, but the place got bought out by Bear Stearns in 73 when the shit really hit the fan. It was a rough time to be on a trade floor. IRS just put out the whole hypnoeconomics thing. Half the big firms were runnin’ around with their hair on fire, the other half felt invincible. Every day was a party. Party party party. 

Was that your first interaction with hypnostimulants? 

I guess. Its funny. First guy to give me quori was a cop. 

You mean an agent of the FDA? 

No no, like an old fashioned NYPD beat cop. Met him in the bathroom at Pink during a bender. Moron was so faded he thought I was his informant. Just gave me a phial. 

And you tried it?

Not right away no. To be honest I thought it was kinda faggy. Sorry. Its just what I thought at the time. The shit was sparkly, you know? What kinda drug comes in phials? Shoulda known something was up. 

Would you say hypnostimulants were popular at the time? 

At the time? Depends what you mean by popular. People didn’t know about that shit yet. You heard stories, dudes shooting up in the woods upstate, gettin found with their eyeballs exploded. It was early days, ya know? But like, that didn’t happen. That was urban legends. You know who was actually fucking around with the early stuff? Accountants. 

Accountants?

Yeah, you know, the bookkeepers. See,  I’m really just a plumber. I move money from one pipe to another pipe. But instead of wrenches and sprockets or whatever, I use charm. Its pretty easy if you ask me. Imagine if you could just tell water where it already wanted to go. You’re water’s best pal. Nah. It was those nerds in the basement, the spreadsheet guys that figured out how to expense shit so the IRS couldn’t get ya. Those were the fuckers who really dove in. 

What got you using regularly? 

Same shit as everyone else. Makes the job easier. 

How so?

You can feel the money in their pocket. Its like, I dunno how to describe it. Its like…Its like, a turd sitting in a hammock. You can feel how the money bends everything around it. You can see it, smell it. You can hear it over the phone. You can’t ignore it. Shit is nuts. You take enough, and its like you can’t see anything else. Or. No. Its like…You see that you don’t need to see anything else. Money is everything. You’re money. I’m money. Its all just rivers of money flowing through everything. 

By 1973 you were a regular user yes?

Regular makes it sound normal. But yeah I know what you mean. “Regular user.”  76 was the sweet spot. The drugs were good, but the regulators hadn’t stepped up yet. You and some buddies could set up in a club bathroom with nothing but a blindfold and a pile. You ever seen a stock floor with a headfull of that fancy government shit? 

Would you like to discuss the raid? 

No. Not really. 

I understand you were the only one in a sub-emmanation state when Hypnoregulators arrived on the scene. 

I don't want to talk about it. 

Very well then, my associate will be happy to take you to prison as per the agreement you signed. 

Alright alright, Christ. 

Please. In your own words. 

From what I understand, you pulled spade outta bed. Got a confession and everything that morning. 9 fuckin AM, and 200 IRS agents come busting in the doors. I was in the bathroom seeing shit. It's marble lined, lots gold filigree. All that jazz. Special made. Listen. I'm serious about the stock floor shit. Whatever you guys have, it's different than what we had back then. I mean, the shit was still cut with cocaine. A stock floor wasn't a stock floor, it was like…

The raid, please. 

I'm getting to it! You gotta know this shit okay? I need you to understand what you goons fuckin wrecked. It was perfect okay? A garden of Eden . Ripe fruit. Everything just works. You don't have to worry about shit. You're a hunter, a killer, the great fuckin god pan, and the floor is your field of delights. It's like being a beating heart, like being struck by lightning. You can feel the sun in your pocket, and how it's all flowing through everything. And then you fucks showed up. 

It was cold. I felt it first. Like I just threw the biggest party, and mom and dad were coming home early. But you know what I saw? You know those Chinese dragon dancers? Or, lions, or whatever they are? You know how there's two guys in the costume? I saw a dragon, a beast with eyes like the sun, teeth dripping gold, a bunch of IRS suits holding its pelt on their shoulders like you carry your baby home. 

Your statement alluded to some additional information. 

Yeah…there was something else… I dunno how to describe it. The fuckin…eyes, like the sun. Thats how you feel when you're on this shit. You're seein’ gold. I looked into the dragons eyes, and it's like, it's like I saw me. Like I was the dragon, and I was looking at me. Or…no. I was the sun. I was looking at myself. It was like, in that moment I knew something. I learned something. 

What exactly is that?

I dunno. It doesn't fit into words. But like. You aren't regulating shit. 

I'm sorry? 

Yeah. All this shit. The dragon. The field. The dancers. It's all just the sun.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Creepy Bunny Hybrid

After a criminal conviction, the claimed hybrid shelter responsible for sourcing most of the beloved species of hybrid is set to shut down

It’s employees pleading with the public to take in their hybrids who’d be otherwise left on the street

Enough for your parents, who you’ve come to live with, to worry

While they were undecided about the morality of owning hybrids

Humanoids with some animal features

They were determined to be helpful 

whether they truly felt such justice or enjoyed the good samaritan role they’d take in a low-maintenance hybrid

A White rabbit with crimson eyes 

In your opinion one of the more beloved species that would’ve found a home somehow but you couldn’t complain

“Welcome Hori! We hope you can find a home with us!”

“Yeah make yourself at home. Don’t mind our kids they’ll be happy to explain anything you need.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Come come I have to show you all the cool things I have!”

Your family takes to him like metals to magnets 

Hovering near him and waiting on him like he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread

But he’s just so incredibly…quiet

Not just because he doesn’t speak unless spoken to 

But because he just doesn’t move

You’ve peaked at him sitting in the living room on a chair with no book, no TV on, windows closed, no music playing

What kind of bunny sits in the dark and does nothing

His large red eyes are huge, his ears incredibly long and upright

Skin  so pale, he could pass as the undead

Hori won’t even eat like other bunny hybrids

When your parents first gushed over his photo too many evenings were spent looking up what a bunny hybrid would need

Vegetables, fruits, bunny-hybrid pellets were what they filled the cabinets and fridge with

But he ate none of that 

Barely nibbling when your brother excitedly presented the spread

“This looks…good.”

Barely a quarter of the plate was gone

Before he claimed he was stuffed

The second your family slipped up though and handed him a plate full of steak 

he left nothing on the plate

“I thought bunnies weren’t omnivores?”

“...Maybe the original animal doesn’t but I am a hybrid. Things are…different.”

“Yeah (Y/n), things are different! Stop bullying Hori!”

It oddly feels like Hori is not all he seems 

Constantly seeking out hotdogs over the fruit you offer

Or spending unusual amounts of time staring at the passing neighbors

Or coming home at unspeakably late hours

But every time you tried to bring this up your family would scorn you

Writing off your observations as you being nitpicky

Or even jealous of the newest member of the family

“Just know (Y/n) you still hold a special place in our hearts.”

“Yeah no need to whine, we won’t forget you.”

“Just don’t take it out on Hori he’s been through so much.”

So you settle to avoid him

Just let him be in his parts of the house and you in yours 

But that doesn’t seem to work with his edition

“(Y/n)...will you accompany me on the grocery run?”

“I thought my older sib was taking you?”

“Originally…but I’d like for you to take me!”

“Uh…”

“Come on (Y/n)! Take this time to bond with Hori! Maybe you’ll find something’s in common between you two.”

It’s annoying that he insists on doing things with you

But it’s just some things

And of course, because he’s so creepily quiet it almost feels like you’re by yourself

It just gets worse

“I want to sleep with you, (Y/n).”

It was way past midnight and Hori was above you 

Caging you between his arms as he practically laid above you 

There was blood around his mouth and if you had the space you’d check over you body for a wound

“W-wh-what?!”

“Hori? (Y/n)? Please?!”

“T-t-that’s not even a real sentence! Please get off me!”

Once he does reluctantly give you space

You flick on a lamp or use your phone’s light to light the room

Hori’s hair is much longer, flowing past his tail 

Which was no longer a small puff ball now bloomed into something larger

His ears were incredibly long and twitching as though it was filled with joints of its own

His teeth seemed like they had no end, just rows and rows of spiny teeth all coated with the gunk and gooey mess of a carnivore’s meal

“All that blood?!”

He licks an abnormally long tongue around his mouth

“The left-of-overs from dinner.”

“Dinner was hours ago!”

“Not your dinner my dinner.”

The implication made your stomach twist

“Uh was it good?”

“Very. Now, sleep with you?”

You hoped he’d forget but if only to get some semblance of control and maybe be able to fall back asleep 

You relent

“Fine, but I’m not going to share my blanket…you’re a lot bigger than before.”

“It's okay those covers are not the heat I am after.”

You decided not to comment on it, wrapping yourself in your comforter

Letting Hori’s much larger limbs wrap around you tightly

This creepy bunny continued to surprise you

You could only hope that you’d figure him out soon 

Or your family might be the one to pay the price

[goatmilksoda]

Thinking about that one post about wearing 365 slightly different colored shirts so it looks like you're wearing almost the same one every day but in photos taken weeks/months apart, it's totally different because with the rate of technology, that's how the last 10-15 years has felt.

[youreverydayfangirl]

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where she's gone radio silent, everyone settles down and someone begins to plot revenge

warning: online hate, mentions of cheating

a/n: i thought i should switch between real life and online so i could feed you guys more

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate healing with my girls

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospamm

thatoneartgirlalex what are friends for???

-> y/nsprivate I THOUGH JUST BEING HOT TBH

keekslikestospammmm and you better get your cute but downstairs cause we're going out

-> y/nsprivate OKAYY GIVE ME TWO SECONDS

leosfather GO QUEEN

-> y/nsprivate alex is training you i see

livbereallydumb SMASH SMASH SMASH

-> y/nsprivate me whenever i see you

itssabrinaaa YOU DON'T NEED NO TINY DICK MAN AND SKANKY FRIEND

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭😭

________________

Y/n felt a small smile creep up across her face as she went to turn off her phone. She looked up at the warm sun which had begun to set, casting a golden glow along the beach infront of her. The peaceful quiet of the beach was a sharp contrast to the chaos and heartache she had left behind. Still, it had been hard to stay in the moment and she often found her mind drifting back to everything that had happened. Something that seemed to play over and over in her head. Although it seemed everyone else had moved on.

She'd barely touched her phone, forced to reinvent herself and tune out what others had kept saying about her. The whispers, the hate and the betrayal had gone with a swipe of her finger. But the sting of it lingered, a wound that refused to heal.

She quickly grabbed her stuff and shoved it in the bag which lay beside her feet as her mind went to the two girls who were currently waiting in the lobby. They had been rocks for her through this whole ordeal. The trip was supposed to be a fresh start for y/n, a place to forget, but somethings weren't so easily buried.

Y/n hadn't been able to fully trust anyone since exbsf had turned her life upside down. The breakup, the voice recording, it was all too perfect.

Revenge is what had kept circling through Y/ns mind over the past few months. A lot of people had hurt her, turned against her, but their was one person specifically that Y/n kept thinking about. Maybe she wasn’t healing just yet. Maybe she was plotting her rise.

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate not even sad anymore guys, just really mad tbh

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospamm

thatoneartgirlalex AND AS YOU SHOULD YOU CLOCK EM

-> y/nsprivate you know i will

keekslikestospamm NEW SONG YOU BETTER SHOW US SOON

-> y/nsprivate trust me i will

________________

Y/n found her self sitting infront of the piano for the first time since everything had come out. She hadn't wanted to, because that would mean that it was real.

But after pushing from both Alex and Kika, the girl finally felt like she was in a spot were she could poor out her feelings. But something felt different this time, she had never felt this angry before.

She sat at her desk, the sunset infront of her casted a shadow across her face. Her notebook was open, was scribbled sharply expressing her inner turmoil. She tapped her pen on her desk, staring at the page infront of her, one line sticking out specifically.

All I think about is karma.

exbsf & landonorris have posted

liked by landonorris, f1gossip and 1, 432, 749 others

exbsf 6 months with you <3

tagged: landonorris

landonorris my gorgeous girl

-> exbsf your too cute

user1 I CANT BELIEVE THEYVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR 6 MONTHS OMG

user2 parents frfr

liked by creator

user3 pov its been 5 months since y/n disappeared 😭

-> user4 GOOD RIDDANCE

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate smiling more

tagged: thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm

thatoneartgirlalex and happy to see it

-> y/nsprivate stop i love you so much

keekslikestospammmm i can still through hands though right?

-> y/nsprivate KEEKS NO

leosfather as your honorary big brother i could not be prouder to see how much you've grown as a person

-> y/nsprivate CHARLIE STOP

livbereallydumb I JUST WANNA GIVE YOU A BIG HUG

-> y/nsprivate you saw me yesterday....

itssabrinaaa livbereallydumb wanna come to portofino with me for no specific reason

-> livbereallydumb already on the flight babes

-> y/nsprivate YOU GUYS BETTER NOT BE KIDDING RIGHT NOW ASSHHH

-> itssabrinaaa SUPRISE

-> livbereallydumb we wanted to make it a bigger thing then realised we dont really know where to go and we dont speak italian

-> itssabrinaaa didnt think that one through 100%

-> y/nsprivate 😭😭😭

TWO WEEKS LATER

________________

im trying to make the parts longer cause i feel like there too short

also do you guys like the switch i feel like i wanna give you guys more than just short SMAU chpaters

_________________

@lyannesworld

@pippyth3hippy

@scorpiomindfuck

@syddddddddddddd

@paigem00

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

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@midnights-lily

@skynel09

@grussellsprout

@comicalivy

@callsignwidow

@unknownmystery22

@nina-or-anna-or-nora

@exotic-iris13

@stereading

@taygrls

@sleutherclaw

@jxnellat

@nitiii

@mahii7 @hadids-world

@gentlemonstersworld

@nichmeddar

@mattymybeloved

@lilipiggytails

@eloriis

@loloekie

@dark-night-sky-99

@agustdpeach

@theblueblub

@formulaal

@delululeclerc

@lilmissdelusion

@splaterparty0-0

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@aleatorio1234

@mrsbrxkkxr

@leclercdream

@yukimaniac

@kissesandmartinis

@charlesgirl16

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@strengthandstay

@jiminssmallpinkyy

@lozzamez3

@hahdb8

@c-losur3

@elsoleil

@meow-143

[sp00kymulderr]

Boop me once...

Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. blue balls, grumpy Joel, horny Joel, Joel hates tumblr confirmed, pussy slapping, they're in love btw, reader could never be any of us ignoring Joel like this but lets pretend for fun. um idk guys. Thank boopoween for the inspo i guess. Unedited, unbeta'd all mistakes my own and there's probably a lot.

Words: 1.3k

It had started with a boop.

Well, a message from your friend telling you boops were back.

You and Joel were lying in bed, putting off the start of the day for another few minutes before you'd have to get up and going. He was always clingy in the mornings, and this morning was no different as he snuggled up behind you whilst you scrolled your phone.

"Mm…feels nice" you murmur when his lips lightly press against your shoulder, and then you squirm and push back against him when he does it again where your shoulder meets your neck.

"You feel nice" Joel whispers in your ear, hand travelling south and grabbing a handful of your ass.

You giggle softly, only to be cut short in what you were about to say in response when a notification pops up on your phone, a message on your favourite social media site.

'Turn your boop counter on!!'

Joels hand is still massaging the flesh of your ass while you're immediately opening up your app, an giddy gasp leaving you when you see the return of the iconic boops

"Getting excited, baby?" He laughs gruffly at your gasp, but your response certainly isn't what he's expecting.

"Tumblr turned boops back on!"

"…"

Joel looks at you like you're speaking a different language. Which you are, to him

"…What the hell is a tumblr?"

You just roll your eyes and shake your head before turning back attention to your phone with a giddy glint in your eye, "Don't worry about it, old man" you tease and he grumbles something under his breath as his lips make contact with your neck again.

You aren't paying so much attention now though, and Joel nips at your skin to bring you back to him.

You giggle but still you're on your phone, he peers down at the screen and sees kitty paws popping up, and he feels even more perplexed.

"Not got long, honey. Put the phone down, yeah?" He says, making it sound more like a command than a request.

"Hm?" You respond, half-listening "Give me one minute…just…"

Joel sighs. Looks at the clock, and watches the minute tick by. His fingers rub absentminded on your skin and if you turned your head, you'd see his lips forming the beginnings of a pout, an expression usually left to you when he teases you.

By the time you put your phone down, there's no real time at all. You turn to kiss him and Joel reciprocates but barely.

"Gotta get up, got a job on site today" he says as he pulls away.

And that's that. Morning ruined.

A dark cloud hangs over Joel most of the day. He curses this tumblr thing, and boops or whatever the fuck you were on about. He grumbles to Tommy the whole morning, and harrumphs around in the afternoon working in the garage.

He's still fucking horny, but he's too stubborn to just jerk off and call it a day. Oh no, he's gotta get his own back on you now.

"Hey handsome!" You call when you return home for the day, peeking your head into the garage and, okay, Joel lights up maybe just a little bit. Just a tiny bit.

"Hey darlin" He says, giving you a smile that has a glint of annoyance to it. You don't notice, phone still in hand, a string of notifications popping up on your screen as you speak to him.

"How was your day?" He asks, setting his tools down and coming around the garage to you.

"Oh, good. Didn't get much done, just booping"

"Just boopin'. Right…"

You don't see the angry tick of his jaw as you lean up to him and give him a cheeky little smile before going in for a kiss. He can't resist, of course not. He never could when its you.

But when you pull away, a happy sigh leaving your lips, you raise your finger and poke his nose with a "Boop!"

Joel loses it then; the press of your finger to his nose, the 'boop!' in that stupid, lilting tone. He's had enough. He's already frustrated from being left with blue balls this morning, so now he's annoyed and horny.

"I swear to god!" He grumbles, pointing an accusing finger at you

"W-what?" You asks, face a picture of surprise at his sudden outburst.

"This fuckin' boop thing! It's ridiculous, i've goddam had it"

"It's just…it's just a tumblr thing"

"I don't know what that means, and I don't wanna"

You can't deny his angry tone and the wild look in his eyes is making your cunt throb. You keep up your perplexed, innocent look as he goes on about it; about how he didn't get quality time with his girl this morning, how he'd been left aching all day and did you even care?!

"Joel, I'm s-" you start, holding your hand on his chest, a show of apology because you really hadn't meant to make him feel that way. He looks down at you, eyes dark and stormy and finds the fire in your own.

"You like boopin' so damn much, huh?" He practically growls out. Your clit jumps in excitement at the rumbling tone.

You nod dumbly.

"Well I'm gonna boop you til you fuckin' cry"

You figure he's not talking about a poke to your nose when he grabs you and hauls you down to the couch, you squeal excitedly, phone dropped to the floor as you eagerly help him pull of your clothes in a fit of rage…passion…determination…you can't quite pinpoint it but you're certainly not complaining about it.

"What happens on that little app of yours when you boop?" Joel asks, looking down between your legs while he kneels between your ankles, big hands holding them tight.

"It's…it's like…" You breath is a little ragged. He can easily tell you're already wet through your underwear "It's a paw that sort of…smacks?" you try to explain.

"Yeah?" Joel nods, tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. His hand reaches out like a flash, and a slap lands on your clothed pussy making you yelp.

"Joel!" you whine, the yell of surprise quickly turning to a moan, clit twitching and pussy clenching around nothing.

"Something like that, you think?" He asks, before he does it again.

Your mouth hangs open slack, eyes flutter closed as you let the sensation envelop you.

"Yeah, uhm, yeah, i think so…maybe, uhm, do it again to make sure?" you whisper, biting down on your bottom lip to suppress the desperate whine clawing up your throat.

He chuckles darkly, pulse quickening as he takes in your expression while he takes his sweet time pulling your underwear down, kissing your ankles before he tugs it all the way off and throws it to the floor. Your cunt is glistening, beautiful, mesmerising enough that he almost forgets he was ever annoyed to begin with.

Then your forgotten phone pings, muffled by the lacy fabric fallen on top of it, and Joel gives you a wicked smile.

A quick succession of slaps to your bare pussy have you crying out, and then squirming as he sooths the sting with gentle touches to your folds, parting them and massaging lightly with his thumbs.

"You still like boopin'?" He asks softly now, a thumb circling your clit and making you arch in delicious pleasure again.

"Mmm" is about all you manage. He's leaning over you now, crowding you and pressing you into the soft cushion of the couch. His jeans-covered bulge rubs against your aching pussy and you just nod, and nod and nod.

"Tell me, baby"

"Yeah. Yeah. Like it" You smile soft up at him, eyes wide and reverent, fingers gripping at his strong back, around to his soft stomach, down to the button of his jeans, "Like your version better, f-fuck tumblr, fuck those kitty paws"

He gives a wolfish grin, anticipation glittering in his dark eyes.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet"

[airybcby]

It Always Leads To You

( bllk boys as situationships )

a/n — girl whose never had a situationship writing about them? what could go wrong? (they progressively get longer lol)

content — some nsfw but not explicit, pining, GN! reader, some characters repeated, all characters are 18 or 18+

synopsis — what kind of situationship the bllk boys would be

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' and the heart i'm breaking is my own ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' but you're best friends! '

you'd rather spend money on a hotel than stay at home 24/7 for the next week. how could you walk into your house when you knew he'd be there, chatting with you family as if nothing had changed?

maybe you should've pretended you had to work.

that would have saved you the grief of having to see, who was supposed to be, your best friend. how could you face him when the last thing you two talked about was being a couple and that...not going as planned.

well, maybe that wasn't the last thing you two talked about with each other. however, does defiling your families bathroom really count as 'talking'? ( most awkward easter ever afterwards ) you didn't really think so.

whatever, he was a pro-soccer player now, he may not even be at home this christmas. you'd just have to put up with his family, who you'd always loved, and then you could go home and avoid the situation until the next big holiday.

but of course, when you stepped into your childhood home you realized that you'd never get that lucky. there he was, just as handsome as ever, sitting on your families couch.

in your eyes, he looked like he belonged with your family more than you, but you supposed he earned that. he came home every holiday, unlike you who continuously came up with different reasons to stay as far away as possible.

if you left now, maybe no one would know you'd even shown up-

" woah, y/n! it's you! " or...maybe not. " i haven't seen you in forever, what have you been up to? " the voice that plagued your every waking thought crashed its way into your ears.

your best friend ( could you even call him that anymore? were you still his best friend? ) got up from his spot on the couch to come wrap his arms around you in a hug that felt more like home than home did.

" i've missed you, ya know? " he whispered in your ear, hands caressing your back in what felt like much more than what a 'friends' hug would be.

just a week. you could survive and coexist with him for a week. your resolve to never sleep with him set in stone now.

you just wished your resolve wouldn't have crumbled only two days later while your family was downstairs watching christmas movies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, AIKU OLIVER, rensuke kunigami, TOBITO KARASU

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the ' you cannot date them '

you’re a good person... or at least, you want to believe that. But how can you when your best friend sits in front of you now, talking about their ex?

she’s raving about how much she misses him, how everything fell apart at the worst time, how she’s still holding onto the hope that maybe they can fix things.

you try to smile and nod, pretending that you’re not dying inside. how can you even look her in the eye when he’s blowing up your phone right now? when you know exactly how he feels about you?

“it’s just so messed up, right?” she laughs nervously, like this is all just a bad breakup, nothing that can’t be smoothed over. “i’m not even sure what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

she doesn’t know that you already did something. You already did the one thing that could ruin everything. the one thing that she told you you could never do.

your phone continuously buzzing while she's talking, hoping she wouldn't notice you reach for it to silence it while she takes a sip of her drink.

your phone vibrates again, and you try not to look at it. you’re not sure if you’re worried that she’ll see, or that you’ll see what he’s saying. you’re scared of both.

him <3 ; are we still on for tonight? can’t wait to see you.

that familiar ache forms in your chest, and you can feel the betrayal to your friend, the confusion about your own feelings, but worse—there’s nothing you can do about it. you keep smiling, even though it feels like your heart’s sinking with every word your friend says.

" god, if you don't want to listen to me, just say so. " your friend says coldly. " i would have turned off my phone if it was you crying right now. "

" sorry, it's just my mom...talking about some new present she wants to get my brother. " you apologized. "oh, okay. is your brother a cutie?" you didn't even have a brother, showed how much she knew about you.

“whatever, what should i do?" your friend asks, her eyes bright with hope (or maybe delusion). "do you think I should text him? do you think we could still fix things?”

you want so badly to tell her the truth.

you want to be honest, to say what she needs to hear so that she doesn’t get her hopes up.

you want to tell her that he is already texting you, that maybe you are the reason he won’t talk to her.

but instead, you bite your lip and offer a shrug. "i don't know, honestly. maybe he needs time to figure out what he wants too."

"he doesn't need time. he needs me." she mused, staring at you like your answer was just the stupidest thing she'd heard all day. "no wonder you've never dated anyone, who'd like a ditz like you?"

The whole time, your phone is buzzing, buzzing, buzzing, like a constant reminder of your lie.

you; see you tonight :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ OTOYA EITA, ikki niko, RANZE KURONA, reo mikage, RYUSEI SHIDO

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧the... ' you'll never be first '

he's leaving soon, and you feel like you're dying.

you’d known for a long time that ‘casually’ seeing a pro soccer player would only lead to being left alone, especially someone like him—someone whose work always came first, and whose heart was as unreachable as the trophies he collected.

he’d said it more times than you could count: “love doesn’t come before soccer. It never will.” and you’d laughed, maybe even agreed at some point, understanding it was just the way things were.

so why does it feel like you’re drowning now, with him leaving just around the corner.

it doesn’t make sense. you’d known the deal from the start.

still, here you are—sitting in his bed, in the quiet of his room, the familiar hum of the city outside reminding you of how little time you really have left with him.

his suitcase is by the door, already half-packed, his jersey draped over the chair where he’d left it, as if he couldn't get out of here fast enough.

you’re almost sick to your stomach at the thought of him walking out that door in just a few days, never looking back.

you’ve spent enough time with him to know that when he leaves, he doesn’t look back. he doesn't look back at stadiums once he walks out, and he wouldn't look back at you either.

"it’s only a few months," he’d said, trying to make you feel better when the topic of him leaving first got brought up. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

but that’s not the point.

it’s never been the point.

you know he’ll be busy with games, traveling, sponsors,...women, all the things that make him too far to reach.

and yet, here you are, sitting in his bed, heart pounding, overwhelmed with the thought of it all ending. you thought you could handle this.

you thought you could be just another notch in his belt. but the truth is, you’ve been fooling yourself. you care too much. you’ve fallen for him, hard, and the worst part is—he doesn’t even realize it.

or maybe he does. maybe he’s known all along, and you were too scared to admit it.

the sound of his voice pulls you from your thoughts.

"hey, you okay?"

you glance over at him, watching him fiddle with his phone, one hand propped up on the headboard. his eyes meet yours, something in them that almost makes you believe he could stay. maybe, you're enough of a reason for him to stay where he is now.

but he won’t. you know that. his life is bigger than you. bigger than this city, this bed, and every memory you’ve shared together.

you nod, forcing a smile, trying to keep the strange bitterness from slipping into your voice.

"yeah, just thinking."

"don’t think too much." his lips curl up into that calming grin that’s made you feel better on several occasions. how could something that used to calm you make you feel like your heart was in your throat? “you’ll drive yourself crazy.”

it’s easy for him to say that. he’s used to moving on. he’s used to leaving. you? you're used to him being here.

his fingers tap absently against the screen of his phone. you can see the notifications lighting up—his agent, a few teammates, probably his parents, all reminding you of the inevitable: he’s leaving soon.

you want to scream. you want to ask him why he doesn’t care. why it’s so easy for him to slip away from everyone who loves him.

but instead, you pull your knees to your chest and keep your eyes fixed on him, as if the longer you look, you could magically gain telepathy to make him want to stay with you.

"how’s your flight looking?" you ask, hoping his answer would be that he cancelled it.

"all set."

and you can't breathe.

the casualness in his voice is what stings the most. the way he talks about leaving as if it’s just another day at the office, another game to be played.

he doesn’t get how you feel. maybe he can’t. maybe he’s just too busy not feeling anything.

The silence is deafening.

"do you... do you ever wish you could just stay?"

It’s a question you didn’t mean to ask, but it escapes before you can stop it.

You wish you could take it back the second it leaves your lips.

he looks up at you, and for the briefest moment, his eyes soften. for one second, he looks like he is completely and utterly yours.

he sets his phone down, sliding it onto the bedside table, then turns his full attention to you.

"i told you, didn’t i? love doesn’t come before soccer."

The words hit you like a train, but it’s not the truth that hurts—it’s the way he says it, like it’s not up for debate. as if it’s always been this way, and it always will be.

why can't he just try? just try to come home every so often...to you.

you feel like a fool. as if you've put your heart on display for him just to not even glance your way.

you know where you stand, even if it’s tearing you apart.

he doesn’t lie to you, doesn’t promise you things he can’t give, and maybe that's why you fell for him in the first place—he was the first person who didn’t play games with you.

"i’m gonna miss you," you say quietly, knowing that admitting it aloud makes it even worse.

his eyes flicker with something, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. he shifts, pulling his knees up to match yours, as if to say he’s close, but still so far. he rests his head back against the headboard.

and for a moment, you almost forget he’s leaving. you forget about the suitcase by the door. you forget about the plane ticket he has. you forget that in just a few days he wont be yours anymore.

"i’ll miss you too," he says softly.

but that’s it. that’s all he says. it’s not a promise, not a declaration. just another passing remark to fill the silence.

he doesn't mean it. it's more of a kindness thing for him to say it back.

you can feel the weight of everything unsaid.

you realize—he doesn’t know how much you care. He can’t understand you.

he’s never been asked to stay.

you’re not even sure you’d want him to. you can’t ask him to change his life for you. and you couldn't keep up with the lifestyle he lives.

the idea of him walking away—of losing him to something bigger, to something you’ll never be able to keep—feels like it will break you.

so you just lie down on his bed, for the last time, you tell yourself.

'after tonight, he'll be free of me'

after tonight, you'd walk out that door and not look back.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ITOSHI RIN, nagi seishiro, SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RENSUKE KUNIGAMI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' to leave the warmest bed i've ever known ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

again, i've never experienced this, so i hope the research i've done (looking up different types of situationships) has done it justice!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[arieslost]

fireproofs | ln4

summary: lando norris is hot and the 2024 fireproofs drive you crazy.

word count: 756

warnings: suggestive comments

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

you’ve been grateful to mclaren for many things over the years, but aside from a fast car, this has to be the best gift they’ve bestowed upon you.

you don’t think it’s an exaggeration when you say that your jaw unhinged the first time you saw lando wearing the new black fireproofs that mclaren has him and oscar in for the 2024 season. he’d sent you pictures, along with a text saying, “what do you think? 👀”

you’d responded with “yeah, not bad” and subsequently spent the next half hour screaming into your pillow. you were able to save face over text, but now that testing is here, you’re a lost cause.

you’d seen lando in black fireproofs before, but something about this year is different. something about him is different. he’s more confident, more determined, and he somehow managed to fill out even more during winter break.

lando had felt bad for mclaren’s car launch sabotaging your valentine’s day, so while you were in the middle of insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, he was booking you a plane ticket to join him in bahrain for the grand prix and testing the week before.

so now, you’re twiddling your thumbs as you sit in your boyfriend’s driver room, both anxious to see him before his testing session begins and hoping he’ll be occupied on the pit wall for just a little longer so you can figure out how to keep your composure once he changes into his race suit.

“you’re still here?” it comes out like half an exclamation and half a question as lando slips into the room.

“you haven’t even gone out on the track, of course i’m still here,” you giggle when he pulls you into his arms and starts pressing kisses all over your face. “i can’t wait to see you put the car through its paces. oscar looked pretty good out there.”

“i’d rather put you through your paces,” he mumbles in your ear, and you smack his shoulder.

“maybe later, if you’re not too tired.”

“i’m never too tired for you.” he winks and kisses your nose before turning to change.

you have no shame in ogling his ass out of the corner of your eye as he does so, but for the most part you’re looking at updates from the first session on your phone until he sits down next to you to put his shoes on.

those damn fireproofs.

they hug his body a little too nicely. the muscles in his chest, back, and arms are perfectly defined courtesy of the tight material. you can’t even think about his shoulder to waist ratio without feeling a little dizzy with desire.

“you’re drooling,” he teases as he stands back up, the both of you knowing damn well that he loves it when you stare at him.

“i can’t help it, you’re too hot.” you’ve never had a problem with telling him just how fine he is, especially because your praise always manages to make him blush and that just makes him impossibly more attractive.

“how am i supposed to let you leave this room?” you complain, wrapping your arms around his torso.

he buries his red face in your shoulder. “the sooner i leave, the sooner i come back and show you a good time.”

“i thought you were taking me out to dinner.”

“that’s what i was talking about,” his tone is dripping in faux innocence, and you know he’s messing with you when you feel him kiss your neck. “good to know where your priorities lie, though.”

you open your mouth to patronize him, but you’re cut off when he squeezes your hips, causing you to yelp. “you are impossible.”

“hmm, good thing you love me so much then.” you can hear his smile as he speaks, and you run your hands across his back, feeling every ridge of muscle through the material of the fireproofs.

your phone starts buzzing in your pocket— the alarm you’d set to remind yourself of when he needed to get in the car. “alright,” you reluctantly separate yourself from him, taking one last lingering look at his figure before he pulls the other half of his race suit on. “i’ll stay for an hour or two and meet you back at the hotel, okay?”

“what dress are you wearing tonight?” he asks as he holds the door open for you.

“the papaya one,” you smirk, and he groans, dragging a hand through his hair.

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.”

note: i wrote most of this at 2 am in a purely feral state and did the bare minimum in editing because i’m drowning in schoolwork so apologies if it’s a bit rough!! mclaren posted a 10 second video of lando and oscar walking around and that was all it took.

lowercase is intentional because i wrote entirely on mobile!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @emmma232 @lieswithoutfairytales @valisjustvaleria @bwormie @meribfox @xfuckoffx @rai-scutum @clara760-blog @reptaysgf @harryismysworld @caz-93 @positiveaspirations @satanfinalgirl @ln4lova @crazymofo-96 @x-d1vine @anedpev

[wilwheaton]

hello mr wil wheaton when you were my age (like exactly i think) you were filming stand by me

I turned 13 during production, so if you're about to become a teenager, I hope you'll let me offer some thoughts that I wish an adult had shared with me, then?

I know this is a wall of text, and giving someone this much of your attention is a HUGE ask. Maybe bookmark this for another time, if you're not into hearing an old man talk.

I wrote this a few days before I turned 50. Thank you in advance for listening, and I wish you a life filled with joy, unconditional love, kindness, and adventure.

Hey everyone! An old man is talking!

In seven days, I will be 50 years-old. This is ... weird. I do not feel the way I expected I would feel when I was approaching 50, nor do any of my friends. The only time I feel like I'm middle-aged is when my body does some bullshit that takes me down for hours because I had the nerve to stand up quickly. And I really hate it when I have to use the flashlight on my phone to see a menu. I mean, at that point, I may as well be dropping my pants for free and singing the Old Gray Mare.

Anyway. This has been on my mind for a little bit, so I had something to say when someone used my tumblr ask me thingy earlier this week:

Q: I hope I'm as cool as you when I'm 49. I'd like to think I'm taking the right steps towards that version of myself. A: So I'm not sure I'm cool, but I do know that I don't suck, and that it's a choice I make every day. I desperately wish someone in my family had told me, or shown me by example, that getting older doesn't mean getting stupid and boring and stuffy and extremely uncool. I wish I'd known that, because I spent all of my life until I was in my 40s feeling like there was this day coming very soon when I would have to stop listening to punk, stop playing video games, put on a suit, and start yelling at kids for no good reason. I didn't know that you don't have to suddenly stop being who you are and become something or someone you hate, just because of a certain age. I know that's super obvious, but to young me, it was not. My dad was an asshole, my mom never showed up for me. Directors and people on set had been treating me like a thing for my entire life. I got yelled at for no reason from adults who knew better almost every day. Most of my elementary school teachers were authoritarian, evangelical assholes. All of these different adults, consistently, shut me down and made me feel like I didn't matter, the things I liked were stupid, and my opinions were invalid because of reasons I didn't understand because I was a dumb kid. So I presumed that when you got to be a certain age, that's what happened. I didn't want to be that, at all, and I was sincerely afraid of the day it would happen. But as I got older, I discovered that all that stuff I hated about adults doesn't automatically happen. Those adults I just mentioned all made a choice to be an asshole. I just didn't know it. I was in my early 20s when I did a movie with a cinematographer who was, I think, 45 at the time. He was the coolest, kindest, most artistic dude I'd ever known. He mentored me and we had epic fun making great art together. I remember telling him, "I'm not afraid of being in my 40s like I used to be. I didn't know you could still be cool." It's sad, that I grew up in such a toxic environment, and didn't know any of these things. So, 9 days before I turn 50, here are a couple things I have figured out: You know who sucks when they hit 49 and 50? People who sucked when they were 20 and never grew up. You know who is an asshole at 49 and 50? Yep. Someone who was an asshole as a kid and never experienced consequences for being an asshole. Hitting middle age has been awesome for me. Other than the aging of my body and its reluctance / refusal to do what I want it to do, I love everything about it. I wish I hadn't spent so much of my life being afraid that, when I hit 50, it was all over. Because honestly it's kind of just starting. The coolest stuff in my life to date has all happened in the last ten years, and I'm so grateful that it coincided with me figuring out a lot of shit so I could enjoy it.

The best part of getting older, by several thousand light years, is the part where we figure out how to stop putting up with other people's bullshit, and we contract our social circle until it's only populated with a VERY few people who deserve us. And I am incredibly grateful for these occasional opportunities to be a 49 year-old dad who can say all the things that would have been reassuring for 19 year-old me to hear (he wouldn't have understood, but 29 year-old me would have remembered, and he would have understood. I think.) I sincerely hope someone hears it and finds it helpful. Anyway, you're gonna be fine. Just remember that being cool, kind, honest, honorable, reliable, listening and showing up … they are all choices. If you want to be cool when you're 49, make the choice and set the example for someone to follow you. Treat kids the way you wanted to be treated when you were young. Listen to them when they offer you the privilege, because that means they trust you, and you have credibility with them. Be a mentor. Be supportive. Show up. Make a choice to be the person you need in the world, and never stop being that person. Start today, and when you're nearing 50 like I am, hopefully you'll remember who you needed right now, so you can be that person to someone else in the future. You're already asking the right questions and taking the first steps. I believe in you. You've got this.

Okay, if you've come this far, perhaps you'll follow me a little bit more, and read a thing I wrote about talking to students just a tiny bit older than you, which contains my core values.

Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.

Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.

Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.

Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.

This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”

When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”

I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I put my hands out, like, “get it?”

There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.

Okay, that's all. If you're still here, thank you for giving me so much of your time and attention. I hope you'll come back in a few years, and let me know how you're doing.

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.

part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4

—————-

You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.

“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”

You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.

————

Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.

When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.

Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.

You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.

John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.

You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.

———

John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.

After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?

“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.

“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.

“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.

“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.

“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.

“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.

Sleep can wait.

—————

You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.

Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.

“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.

“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.

“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.

“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.

“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.

“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.

“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.

“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.

“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.

“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.

“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.

“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.

“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.

“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.

“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.

“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.

“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.

“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.

“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day

—————

John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.

“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.

“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.

“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.

“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.

He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.

“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.

“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.

“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.

“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.

“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.

“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.

——————

Comments and reposts are appreciated <3

@beebeechaos

@ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword

@quakeroaksguy

@waves-against-a-cliff

@depressed-but-make-it-cute

[stxrvel]

absence (1)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, fangirling a lot and some self-deprecation. no proofread. this is just silly writing, we're on the safe zone for now. a/n. hi guys! i was gonna wait a little bit but i'm really excited about this one so you're gonna have earlier! thank u all for the support and i really hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻

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You met them all at school. Each with their own ambitions, their different dreams, but so similar in the nature of their core. It was almost funny how everyone with their dissimilar personalities fit so strangely well into one school group. There were times when you could still remember how you used to tell them that all together they could rule the world.

Maybe that's why you didn't see them years ago.

Jeon Jungkook was an idol. There wasn't an hour in the day or a screen in the city where you weren't watching him. He was so popular around the world that you suspected that not even one person didn't know him. His voice was on every radio station, on every cell phone of the people you passed on the street and on the buses, his face on the TV sets with the last interview he had done, as if it were a national achievement. You even saw him in restaurants, chefs naming dishes after him, production companies releasing collaborations with his company. There wasn't an object in that city that didn't have Jungkook's face on its forehead. It was impossible to escape him.

He was closely followed by Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two of the most promising models of the last decade, a national pride hand in hand with Jungkook. You didn't see them as often as Jungkook, but they still swept the international public and there was hardly anyone who didn't talk about them. Invited to catwalks in Paris, choosing their contracts and collaborations, wearing the most expensive clothes that you wouldn't even think of buying, wearing beautiful matching jewelry, expensive enough that a single outfit from each of them could buy you five houses in the small town they all came from. Taehyung and Jimin were known as the Siamese twins of modeling. Wherever one went, the other always had to be. Their exclusivity was incomparable.

In levels of recognition, Min Yoongi followed them in line. A great rapper who was well received by the general populace. Yoongi had managed to captivate a large audience thanks to his incredible command of the production of his music and his ease and gift for writing his own lyrics. His growth was gradual, but when he touched the sky he never went down again. His popularity was not low even though his presentation to the public was not that high compared to the other three. Still, Yoongi had enough charisma and talent to stand out, especially when his fans were obsessed with highlighting the duality he had when he was on stage and when he did those seventy question interviews with Vogue or whatever… that had made him one of the best rappers of his generation and probably of the last century.

Kim Namjoon was the owner of the company that made Jungkook's debut and welcomed Yoongi with total creative freedom. If he were not solely focused on music, he would surely also be Taehyung and Jimin's agent. Namjoon had inherited a company from his parents, but the success he had turned it into over the past few years, into one of the most profitable businesses in the country, was entirely to his credit and effort. His popularity was also high, because everyone said he was too handsome to be a mere businessman; not knowing, of course, that everything involved in maintaining such a business required much more than a pretty face. Of Namjoon the public didn't know too much, not probably like the other guys and you, if he was still half the person he was before.

Hand in hand with Namjoon were Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Hoseok was and still is to this day a national pride as he passionately played tennis since school and turned professional, reaching to participate in major international tournaments representing his country and winning one of them. However, two years after that great feat, an accident involving one of his hands prevented him from continuing to play. No one knows exactly what happened during the more than a year and a half that he almost completely disappeared from the public eye, but when he returned with his huge smile he announced that he would dedicate himself to dance, opening his own academy throughout the center of the city. Although he was not a recurrent teacher, his academy was one of the best in the country, and of course, it was financed by Namjoon's company. At one time Hoseok became Namjoon's associate.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was the one who kept the lowest profile. He was a great doctor, cardiovascular if you were not mistaken. In addition to being an amazing surgeon, his research projects were the ones everyone looked forward to the most at the end of each year. You didn't know much about the subject, but he was almost like the guru of medicine in his field specifically. The only reason he was so much in the public eye being a doctor was because he was regularly seen in the company of Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi. The four of them made up the holy grail of dilfs.

They had all had incredibly successful careers and you were glad that they had been able to accomplish everything they once talked about on the rooftop of Namjoon's house, with sneaky steps so their parents wouldn't scold them when they sneaked out in the wee hours of the morning.

You didn't know exactly what it was - or you didn't want to acknowledge it - that succumbed inside you every time you saw or heard about any of them on the news or on social media. Because yeah, no matter how low media exposure any of them had, always the faces of all seven appeared on your TikTok every week.

It was amazing how they had all moved on and you… well, you-

“Weren't you supossed to leave?”

You lifted your head from your phone, trying to hide it with trembling hands as you let Taehyung's face next to Jungkook's plunge into the darkness of your apron pocket.

“Huh?”

You tried to look distracted, returning your gaze between your boss and the notes next to the cash register. She had a soft gaze, between amused and sisterly. Her brown eyes shifted from your eyes and hot cheeks to the notes you held upside down in your hands, pretending to work as if she herself hadn't seen you completely frozen and gawking at the pair of the country's great casanovas.

“I thought you were leaving earlier today,” your boss shifted, settling her trench coat and long brown strap bag over her shoulder. At that moment she was leaving to walk around to each of the locations she had in town, just to do follow-ups. “Don't tell me you forgot.”

You followed her index finger until it landed on the red circle you had drawn on the calendar placed in your little cubicle a couple of weeks ago, with hearts surrounding it and exclamation points. Yes you remembered, of course you remembered, but at the point where you were at the time no one was going to miss you if you didn't attend.

“I didn't forget…” your voice trailed off as you looked down, your fingers finding the tips of the pages more entertaining than your boss's worried expression.

“y/n, you asked me to leave earlier this day from four months ago,” her high-pitched voice echoed in your head, reminding you how excited you had been a while ago for this day to come. “You can't just give up like that. Come on. You still have time.”

You began to shake your head, releasing your grip on the woman who was looking at you with the same worried eyes of a mother. Your boss had been one of the most encouraging people you'd ever had in your life, besides the handful of friends you had stored in your phone's contacts.

“It was a bust last time. I don't plan on going through that again.”

“But hadn't you told me afterwards that you weren't going to let that stop you? You said… what was it? I can't drown in this glass of water.”

You grudgingly resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Really you of four months ago was a deluded fool.

“I had no idea about life at the time.”

Your boss clicked her tongue, dropping her hands on your shoulders, giving little squeezes whose familiarity stole your breath.

“I'll leave Patrick waiting for you in case you change your mind.”

You shook your head, evading the memories. The man outside the store shook his head in greeting as the two of you turned to look at him, as if he knew you were talking about him.

“Don't miss this opportunity because you're afraid. It may change your life.”

You watched her leave, the clacking of her low heels drawing the attention of everyone in the store, earning every possible stare as she did every time she entered any room. Her chauffeur, Patrick, greeted her with a similar nod of his head as before and stood leaning against the black car parked right where he could get a perfect view of your nervous face.

You, unlike the great and successful lives of your high school friends whose company you still used to miss like a fool, had not had such a great and successful life.

You were a writer. Well, an attempted writer and, worse, part-time. The other part-time was this job behind the cash register at the largest pastry chain in the country. Or sometimes as a waitress, it depended on the day. There was good pay, mind you, at least it allowed you to make up for the losses you took every time you tried to sell a book and then had to market it on your own, only to have five purchases once every seven months and three of them were from your parents and brother. The other two were from your friends.

Four months ago you had been invited to a sort of convention for readers, how they had found you and why? You had no idea, but the idea of being considered in that way drove you crazy at the time. You were so excited that you had more copies of your failed books printed and prepared your booth several days in advance to present them to the horde of people who, you were sure at the time, would come to meet you.

Only one person came by to ask you about the bathroom.

You never recovered from that.

Even with all that failure, that same day you were invited to another convention and, for a while, you were excited to attend. Everyone goes through those kinds of bumps at some point in their life, right? You have to work hard to earn that kind of fame, you kept telling yourself. But as time went on and your networks didn't grow and your videos didn't get more than ten views, or fifty views at most in a week, you began to lose that spark of excitement you held for your dream. Your parents had never turned your back on what you wanted to do, but it was too demotivating and discouraging to have spent so many years at it, so many headaches and tears invested for you to just keep losing and losing money.

That was why you were sure you wouldn't go to that convention if you had to go through that mockery again. You hadn't even bothered to go and fix your booth so surely they already knew you weren't going.

“Have you seen them yet??????”

The female voice coming from the wine cellar made you jump up on your chair.

“Jesus, Yuna, you almost killed me here.”

“I don't care! We could die right now for all we care!”

“Wow, speak for yourself.”

“Haven't you seen theeeem?”

Yuna held up her phone, the screen at full brightness blinding you for a moment. The blurry dots you saw from the proximity of the device told you nothing, as your friend jumped excitedly beside you.

“God, hold still.”

Grabbing her wrist, you leveled the phone to see her TikTok and a picture of three men.

Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook coming out of a building. From Namjoon's building.

“They look amazing, don't they? They just came out! That means their car will pass in front of us any minute!”

Yes, Namjoon's building was just a few blocks away from your boss's place. In fact, your boss knew him and many times they would prepare large orders for parties at his company. You had never seen him set foot in this place or any other in the country, but every time he went to celebrate something he had to dial your boss's personal number and you would work until your backs burned because everything had to be perfect for the big businessman.

“Are you going out to greet them or what?” you frowned, letting go of her wrist and returning your gaze to the notebook next to the cash register.

Yuna let out an excited exclamation.

“Ohhhh~, should I? Should I?”

You grabbed her by the collar of her uniform as she tried to pass behind you.

“We're still on business hours.”

“I'm sure Sol wouldn't mind,” her almost heart pupil eyes stared down the street, her hands moving in front of her like she was a zombie. She almost seemed possessed by her fanaticism. Though of course you didn't blame her, if you didn't know any of the seven knights of the underworld you would surely be as excited as she was.

“Don't put words in her mouth. You'd better tell me if the lady's batch of cakes is out yet-”

Commotion erupted throughout the room. You almost saw in slow motion how all the people in the premises got up and running in the direction of the glass doors when you heard the screams coming from far away.

“They're comiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”

Sometimes you wondered how they dealt with this level of fanaticism.

The ground almost shook with the amount of people running after a black car, where the three men who were causing such a furor so early that day were most likely to be, and the commotion was not tiny inside the venue where the screams erupted.

Having to deal with that on a daily basis would easily turn someone into a hater. Not that you were one... strictly...

“God, for a moment we breathed the same air,” Yuna plopped down on the table, her body doubled over with her eyes lost. You resisted the urge to smack her forehead.

“Their car windows were up.”

“So you saw them, right?????”

“Argh.”

You had to drag her back to work as the excitement in the store dissipated. You attended to another batch of consumers while Yuna fixed the display case and, in a moment of lapse you could almost tell, her back suddenly straightened and she turned to look at you with her eyes a little too wide. You passed the change to the man in front of you, who barely sent you a confused glance before continuing to claim his order at the other corner of the store.

“What's wrong with you?”

“You shouldn't be here.”

“Don't say that with that face. You look creepy,” you pulled out the bill to tuck it under the cash register as Yuna approached, leaving the frightened face behind.

“Wasn't that convention today?”

You sighed. “Yes.”

“Then why aren't you there?”

“Do I look like I want to be there?”

“Y/n! It's a great opportunity. You should-”

“A great opportunity for what, to be a laughingstock again?”

Yuna pursed her lips, looking almost pained that you would remember in that way the experience that was supposed to change your life. She had been one of the ones who had accompanied you to set up the booth and she was sure she had never seen you smile so much during all the time the two of you had known each other. Yuna was aware of how over time you seemed to have lost interest in this new convention, but she didn't think you would finally decide not to go.

On the sly, she had prepared your booth with the help of your mother and Sol, your boss.

“You were never a laughingstock! Don't say that,” Yuna patted your forearm harder than necessary. “Besides, I recently logged some purchases on the site! How do you-?”

“I know it was you and mom,” you raised your voice to interrupt her, stepping archly away from her body.

“What the… Of course not, ha, ha!”

“You're the only fools who would write down celebrity names to register purchases. Besides, the addresses don't even exist.”

“Fuck, I told her that wouldn't work.”

Under your heavy gaze, Yuna had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Okay, I'm sorry! We wanted to motivate you to go to the convention.”

“Can't you just let me do my own thing? If I don't want to go, I won't go.”

“Even if you leave Patrick waiting there?”

You followed his gaze, watching the man pull an umbrella out of the trunk of the car as the slightest breeze brushed against his body and the water droplets were smaller than a dew that the two of you had to squint to see them on the glass of the entrance.

“Whatever it is, I'm not going.”

“y/n…” Yuna pleaded, coming closer with her puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“y/n, please…”

“No and stop doing that. You look weird.”

“I don't,” Yuna pulled away to frown at you. “I once heard you agreed with Seoyeon about my puppy face being cute.”

“I never agreed with that!”

“Seojun told me so!”

“Your first mistake is believing Seojun.”

“Do you blame me if the reason is your demonstration of love for me?”

“That was your second mistake.”

“Y/n!”

_____________________

That day you arrived home a little later than usual. Since Patrick had been waiting for you all day in the sun and mini rain and refused to let you take a cab on direct instructions from Sol, you asked him to take a ride downtown so you could buy the teokkboki your mom loved and incidentally bought some for him, even though he didn't want to accept it at first.

“y/n, dear, how did it go?”

Your parents were in the living room when you arrived playing Go. Your father left the table when he saw you carrying the bag of food and came over to take it from you.

“What does our little writer bring here, a contract by any chance?”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as your mother tried to get your father's attention by wildly waving her fan, while the man rummaged through the bag to find something warm and delicious smelling.

“Oh, it's teokkboki.”

Your mother stopped waving her arm to stare at the bag with sparkling eyes.

“The ones from the center? From Mrs. Wang?”

You nodded in her direction, taking a seat in their midst on the floor. Your parents started a pitched battle to see who would break the bag first to try the first batch of teokkboki and you could only watch them with a smile on your face. The day may have been difficult, but being home at the end of the day always made you feel so much better.

Amidst laughter and anecdotes, trying to avoid the elephant in the room because you knew your mother's furtive glances weren't for nothing, the three of you ate teokkboki until you were bursting at the seams. You organized the kitchen with your father while your mother grumbled from the living room whatever he said about her. You watched the three of you favorite soap opera on the fixed schedule and finally got ready for bed.

With your body more relaxed and lighter, you let yourself sink into the softness of the sheets, completely ignoring the messages Yuna had sent earlier and the stupid questions your brother asked at the most inopportune moments.

How do I unclog a bath?

Do I add salt to the rice???

Where do I get the kimchi mom makes?????

His independence was probably one of the worst things that could happen. You being the older sister thought you would leave home first. Even according to your twelve year old diary, you should have been married by then or at least planning your amazing, mega giant wedding, complete with helicopters and puppy dogs carrying drinks through the reception. You didn't know what kind of crazy dreams you had when you were younger, but up to that point you hadn't been able to fulfill any of your inner child's desires except to study for a career you were passionate about.

Still, what good had that done in the end? Maybe you should've listened to your grandparents to study medicine. Maybe your parents should've been a little more conservative instead of libertarian, which your grandparents always complained about when they had the chance. If you were a disgrace to anyone in the family, it was to them.

Ah, what a long day.

You didn't know at what point you fell asleep, but the incessant sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow woke you up. With a grunt, you moved your hands to put the device in front of one of your half-open eyes to find Yuna on caller ID. Your eyes moved upward.

It was one in the morning!

“What the fuck are you doing calling at this hour? It better be an emergency because-”

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING THAT YOU DON'T CHECK YOUR MESSAGES?”

“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING! WHY WOULD I BE DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT SLEEPING?”

“I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU FOR A WHILE NOW, Y/N!”

“YUNA HOW CAN I NOT FUCKING SLEEP-?”

“Well, whatever!”

You let out an exasperated snort, giving her time to say what she had to say.

“You're going to fall on your ass.”

“I'm lying down.”

“Your books have sold a thousand copies in the last hour!”

Silence. Absorbing silence…

“Yuna, if you really woke me up to play a fucking prank on me I'm going all the way to your house to pull out every single one of your hairs with a fucking tweezer.”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, I'm not kidding! Get on your fucking Instagram! What's worse is that's not the most shocking news. Well… depends on how you look at it.”

“Yuna, I don't think I'm following you.”

“Fucking Kim Taehyung was at the reader convention and he took a picture of your books and UPLOADED IT TO HIS INSTAGRAM STORIES!!!!! AN HOUR AGO! The damn shopping notifications woke me up and I think I took too much time trying to process what was going on because they already tripled!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, did you start smoking weed?”

“Ugh, why are you so insufferable? Just look at fucking Instagram!”

You didn't want to believe Yuna, but a part of you was vibrating in anticipation. You'd already seen her text messages, her exclamations and voice notes, you'd barely processed the images she'd sent you. You logged on to Instagram. The first thing you noticed was the exorbitant amount of notifications and direct messages.

You had to search for Taehyung's account because you weren't following him.

There was the colorful arc around his profile picture. The story.

You clicked on his picture on the screen.

Your books were all over his story, with his hand holding one of them.

It jumped out at you that there was a stand of your books that you had no idea where it had come from.

A description loomed between the image.

One of the best fantasy books I've read in recent years. And by one of the best writers I've ever met in my life.

Your user was next to the description. You had no idea how fucking Kim Taehyung had gotten your user when it wasn't even something related to your name. You hadn't even uploaded pictures of yourself once in all the time that account had been open.

“Did you see it?? Can you see I wasn't lying?”

With Yuna's malevolent laughter in the background, you felt your mind escape into an unknown mental space.

“You're going to be rich!!! And I'm going to meet Kim Taehyung!”

Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour trying to make sense of what your eyes couldn't credit. His story was replaying on your screen. So many things you could say and just…

“What the fuck?”

--

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7

[screwitbaby]

naive

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

day 4/7

summary: part 4 of my short story naive! the four of you go to the club and while the couple are still fighting, you and hamzah act on your feelings a lil more. but it can only go so well for so long…

contains: SFW content, some kissing and touchy touchy ;)

w/c: 2.5k-ish

a/n: i couldn’t let you guys go into the new year without updating this story. im the worst but tysm for the support yall are so sweet i could cry xxxx enjoy!!!<3 read the a/n at the end if u care to know more

~

The couple's bad mood was not simply slept off and it's ruining your vibe.

You and Mandy are getting ready in their en suite bathroom while Hamzah and Martin speak in hushed tones in the bedroom. The bathroom door is open, and every so often you look at the space over your shoulder in the mirror and make eye contact with Martin from the bed. He looks away immediately, not at all subtle. It's like a game at this point, seeing how many times you can catch him in the act.

"Is he gonna do this all night," you mumble, applying your mascara after yet another match of eye-tag.

"We could just close the door," Mandy offers. She pays no mind to the childish behavior behind you, straightening her hair without sparing him a single glance.

"You're so right," you say and get up to shut it yourself.

Once your makeup is pretty much done, you decide to start getting dressed. You turn the music on her speaker up and give yourself a once-over in the mirror, holding different outfits beside your body to see what you want to wear for the night.

"I don't know what to wear. Wanna match?" you ask, placing your chin on top of her head to stop her movements. She nearly clamps your neck with the straightener. "Hey!"

"Sure," she laughs. "Grab my suitcase, please."

You put your clothes back down and step out of the bathroom to bring her suitcase in. You shimmy it out of its place by the TV stand, not missing the way the boys go completely silent until you're gone.

"Top zipper, the satin blue dress," Mandy instructs.

You hand it to her and sit by your own bag of clothes to rummage through it. You find a top and skirt set in a similar baby blue color then hold it up for her to see.

"Yes, no, yes?"

"Yes, definitely."

You apply your lip combo and take a few silly photos in the mirror with Mandy, your made up faces clashing with your baggy tees. One of the better photos are posted on your Instagram story for fun. When you finally get changed—you guys had a dance break to some y2k club classics—you put your heels on and realize you need a little pregame.

When you walk into the bedroom this time, the boys are leaned against the headboard and on their phones, mindlessly scrolling. You go by Martin's side of the bed and poke him repeatedly until he looks up.

"Do you happen to have the penjamin on you?"

"That depends," he says, putting his hand in his pocket. "What's the magic word?"

You roll your eyes. "Please?"

He pulls the little device out of his pocket and presents it to you in his palm. When you go to grab it, he makes a fist and holds it above his head.

"Please who?"

"I'm not calling you Daddy," you scoff, prying his fingers open and snatching the pen from his grasp. He barely puts up a fight. "That's Hamzah's job."

At the mention of his name, Hamzah looks up and seems like he's about to say something to retaliate but freezes. His gaze drags down your figure and you blush.

"Maybe it's not his job," Martin says smugly, "since you made him speechless."

Hamzah snaps out of it and elbows his friend in the side.

“It would be your girlfriend's job if you weren't being petty right now."

You wince at the sullen expression that washes over Martin's face.

"Right."

All you can do is watch as he clambers off the bed and walks out of the room. You lean against the wall and slide the balcony door open with a sigh.

"He can't seriously be that mad," Hamzah says. "I was kidding."

"He can dish it, but he can't take it," you say, too used to his behavior. "And he's extra sensitive right now, so."

"Well, they better not ruin our night with that stuff." Hamzah crosses his arms.

"I won't let them."

"Yeah?" Hamzah snorts. "What're you gonna do about it?"

"Um." You take a hit and blow the smoke outside. "I'll think of something if I need to step in."

Hamzah laughs at your empty threat and you smile. You take another hit before offering the dab pen to him.

"I have a feeling I should be sober for tonight."

"Boring," you sing out. "It'll be fine. C'mon, feel my peer pressure."

You wiggle your fingers at him and he shakes his head, laughing lightly. When he silently puts his hand out a few seconds later, you cheer. The room fills with the loud music from Mandy's speaker as he takes his first hit.

"So," you begin, already feeling slightly heady. "What were you guys whispering about earlier?"

"I shouldn't say."

"Really?"

He nods. "It was partly about their fight. Partly the trip. And you."

"Me?" You point at yourself with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah." He shrugs. "I can't divulge the details."

"That's bullshit."

"I never ask what you guys say about me."

"Hey—I don't—what?" you stutter, unable to come up with a defense.

"C'mon," he says, tilting his head. "I'm not that oblivious."

Your eyes narrow. You've never once considered that this cupid thing Martin was pulling on you could have gone both ways. You don't know if you're relieved for him stepping in to push his friend closer to you, or annoyed that he's even meddling in this whole thing. It makes you wonder if Martin knows what happened by the time he and Mandy returned to the beach last night.

"Speaking of details." You clear your throat. "Do you even know what club we're going to?"

Your attempt at changing the topic is weak, but as per usual, Hamzah rolls with it to save you any embarrassment.

"No clue. Martin keeps his trip itinerary locked in his notes."

The conversation devolves into a bunch of what if's about the night and jokes that are only funny because you guys are high. When Mandy finally comes to join and sees the state of you two, you offer her a hit.

"What? No drinks?" She frowns.

"Hotel alcohol is like twenty bucks a pop! This is the next best thing."

"Ugh, fine. Give it."

With the three of you thoroughly blitzed, you collect Martin from the living room couch and make your way out of the hotel. He doesn't speak for a majority of the walk, and you think that's the longest you've ever heard him be quiet in a group setting.

Despite it being nearly 10 P.M., the air is pretty humid and forgiving on your exposed skin. The other thing about it being so late already, is that the club is absolutely chock-full of people when you enter. The dance floor of strangers are nearly toe to toe in proximity, and you wrap your arm with Mandy's to avoid getting separated in the crowd. The boys immediately beeline to the bar for drinks, but you don't let that stop your journey. You maneuver your way to the front of the stage and only let go of each other once you've found a bit of space to dance in.

The DJ nods at the two of you and you turn to raise your eyebrows suggestively at Mandy, who pushes your shoulder and continues dancing. You get lost in the beat, swaying and bouncing with the vibrations traveling through your limbs. The strobe lights illuminate your sweaty skin and you swear the energy in the room has you feeling higher. You begin grinding on each other and throw your heads back to laugh, trying to catch your breaths in between a multitude of bodies.

"Hey!" Mandy places her arms around your shoulders to catch your attention and you take it as a sign to grind on her. "I'm going to grab drinks.”

"No!" You turn and put your hands over hers. "Don't go!"

"I'll be right back!" She grins and squeezes you before letting go to disappear into the crowd.

Alone, you turn back to the stage and throw your hands in the air. You close your eyes for a moment, the pounding beats making a home in your brain. You're sure your ears will be ringing when you leave.

You wonder if Martin's drunk himself into a coma yet and knowing him, you know how easy that could be. You only hope this outing tonight doesn't make him do anything he regrets. Then you remember he’s a twenty-five year old man and you’re worrying about him while you’re supposed to be having fun. So, you shut your brain off and let the beat carry you.

When Mandy's back, she has two drinks in hand and Hamzah in tow. She hands you a cocktail and you graciously sip from your first alcoholic drink of the night.

"Where's Martin?" you ask.

"Bar!" she shouts over the music.

You shake your head. "Make up and make out already!"

She jabs your side and you giggle, swatting her hand away. Hamzah's doing something reminiscent of a frat flick, looking slightly out of it. You assume he's already done some shots and is way more intoxicated. So, being an empath, you finish your drink to get closer to his level. When you're done, you hand the empty cup to Mandy and wink at her. Your hand envelops Hamzah's and you pull him deeper in the crowd so you can dance together.

"I don't—I can't dance," he complains, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"C'mon, it's easy!"

You begin by swaying your hips, raising his hand in yours to guide him into a rhythm. He tries to follow along, shuffling around like a newborn deer. It's a funny sight, but you don't want him to stop if you tease him, so you bite back your amused smile. He slowly gets less self-conscious and continues on in his own way with the flow of the music, even twirling you around once or twice, laughing all the way as you narrowly avoid knocking into people. His eyes never leave you, like he's constantly thinking of his next move to impress you.

After letting him freestyle some more, you pull him close and wrap your arms around his shoulders. He falters at the change in pace and his hands fall at your hips. Your hands rest at the nape of his neck and he shivers at the way your fingertips grace his skin. The rapid strobe lights nearly blind you, but you hold eye contact.

"Was that so bad?" you ask, tilting your head to the side.

"Yes," he says sarcastically. "I hate dancing."

"But I like your dancing."

You sway with him, careful not to step on his toes in your heels. Close up, you can nearly feel his breath on your face. You take a moment to admire his eyelashes and the way his eyes are slightly bloodshot, willing him to break the eye contact. He leans in closer.

"I like your dancing more."

You can't help but grin. His expression mimics yours.

"Yeah, well," you start, bringing your thumb up to trace the side of his jaw, "I like you."

He ducks down and captures your lips in a kiss. It takes you by surprise. You hadn't spoken a word about your kiss since last night, and you were beginning to think you made a mistake by acting on your impulses. Evidently, he doesn't seem to mind it as much as you'd worried.

The tip of his nose presses against your cheek as he shifts his head to deepen the kiss. Though the room is warm, this makes you hotter than any amount of dancing could've done. His palms squeeze your hips and your fingers rise to play with his curls. They're soft to the touch, just as you suspected. You tug lightly as the kiss gets more insatiable.

"Ouch," he mumbles against your lips, barely loud enough to hear. You snicker and tug it again, making him pull away. "I said ouch."

"I know," you laugh out. "Sorry."

"That funny?" he questions. You nod, grinning at his playful irritation. "See how you like it."

His hand trails up your back until his fingers are at your scalp and he gently pulls on your roots. Your head moves back with his action and your lips part, exhaling a shaky breath. His eyes widen. He does it again. You reach up to kiss him again.

It's hotter this time, in both senses of the word. Your skin goes alight with a blaze even the coldest shower couldn't reduce. You drape your wrists over his shoulders, your beaded bracelet pressing into him the same way his is imprinting into the sliver of bare skin below your top.

Realizing you’re standing in place in the midst of a lively dance floor, you break from the kiss and turn so your back is against his front. You pull his arms around your shoulders and sway, deliberately pressing yourself against him. You enjoy hearing the way his breath hitches next to your ear, always needing to find a new way to tease him. You know if you could have it your way without seeming too desperate too soon, you’d be doing more than just dancing.

“I like you, too,” he says, clutching you closer to him. “I forgot to say.”

You turn your head and nearly kiss his cheek because of how cute he is. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“And I really like your dancing.”

His suggestive words spur you into grinding on him more, anything to get a reaction out of him, and it works every time. The two of you keep going this way until your thighs are burning and you’re out of breath. If it weren’t for the visual reminder, you would’ve forgotten that you came here with other people.

A couple feet away, you spot two familiar heads weeding through the crowd and slowly drawing nearer. You step away from Hamzah, who looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Before you can explain yourself, you come face-to-face with Mandy. Martin stops a bit away.

“Can we leave?” she rushes out.

Her mascara is running and her nose is red. Martin looks disgruntled, his eyes never staying in one place as he scans through the crowd. You grab her hand and nod. The four of you spot the nearest exit and leave promptly.

“What happened?” you ask once you’re out in the open. “Are you okay?”

“Can I stay in your room tonight?” Her eyes stay on the ground.

Your heart drops. “Of course.”

The walk back to the hotel is uneasy and fast-paced. The boys walk behind the two of you and you can hear Martin’s one word answers to everything Hamzah says to him. Your heels click and clack, barely providing a distraction from the hundreds of questions swarming your mind.

~

a/n: ooo we’re getting angsty. im so sorry this took so long and if u feel that it wasn’t worth the wait, the truth is ive been so sick recently like never before in my life and i haven’t felt a lick of motivation to write. ive had to rewrite these chapters so many times that its actually affecting me mentally because i wanna make u guys happy while actually enjoying writing. i promise u won’t have to wait this long ever again, but doing this story is making me realize i prefer writing short form stuff way more than stories like this because it’s simply less stress and fits my writing style more. thanks again for all the support and kind words, u guys have really warmed my heart and i hope u know that even tho this is fanfiction and it may seem silly, it’s really a labor of love and im so grateful that u actually like what i put out there. im so so so touched and i rlly love u guys, even if i don’t know u. parasocial virtual hugs to u all xoxoxo tysm. <3

[lucytara]

a prompt for every week of the year

awhile ago, i created my own writing prompts along the lines of an old livejournal writing community called 52 flavours, whose prompts were always beautiful and abstract and poetic and evocative. these types of prompts have sort of become lost to fandom in favor of more straightforward and simplistic ones (which never inspire me much, personally) so as i start to post fics i'm writing to these prompts, i figured i might as well post the actual prompt list for anyone to use!

the distant glitter of the January sun

back then, everything was music

at the violet hour

the world begins at the kitchen table

it felt just like February; what had been falling snow was beating loudly in the street

Listen. Even the ocean begs.

still without sound

unsure of where to settle down for the night

March is a month of storms and lust

we’ve been alive just long enough

I wrote “valley” when I meant “longing”

you saw me one Friday afternoon and decided you should love me

I know I have been dreaming

April is the cruelest month

all this fucking with no hands on me

I’d write about you a lot more than I should

to put on your best outfit and feel like you’re dressing a wound

to be held by something reluctant to let go

Late in May as the light lengthens

I worry that love is violence

I’ve been trying to go home my whole life–

you can put your strength down

I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at once.

It is June. Let’s hope someone is kind, just in time

bend in a thousand directions

your smell was never unfamiliar

even hunger can become a space to live in

a kind of undressing

the July night is a song

you, you, and only you

they cannot exist without setting each other on fire

in your hand, its shaky penmanship, my own paper-thin nerves

staying up all night for it

the August sun, returning everything that was taken away—

and maybe love still smolders in my heart

the reverse of being haunted

I want I want I want

a day of rain; the kind you think will never end

September tastes of ashes 

the museum of past lives

maybe a meteor or maybe a phone call or maybe a sudden shift in atmosphere

an old, old wound about to heal or about to bleed

the ache of everything unsaid

October is a thick and hollow bone

the difference between intimacy and radical intimacy

I caught you forgetting me

the wish for winter

Will you forgive me these November days?

amazing how long a ruined thing will burn

Look, you said, sunlight.

All my stories are about being left; all of yours are about leaving. We should have known.

It is December and we must be brave.