#or 'think'!

[mcl4r3n]

(wait) they don't love you like i love you

Dando, 800w, Mature (for @landoisokay)

---

There is a mole, right there, on Lando’s left ear, and another, just below it. 

There’s one to the left of his neck. Another, near his chin, hidden by his little patchy beard. Another, on his cheek. Another, by his nose. 

They are guides for Daniel to press his lips to, and he’s always been good at following directions. 

Lando’s body is mapped out with them, instructions on how best to make Lando feel good. Where to bite down on soft flesh so that Lando will close his eyes and sigh through his teeth.

His hips provide Daniel with the trail he needs to follow so that he can put his hands on hardened muscle, into the dip of skin that goes from smooth to rough, into the garden of hair where Lando’s cock lies thick and hard and hot. 

“Daniel.” Lando’s voice is only a measure above a whisper. Daniel loves the way Lando says his name in bed. He’s heard it, over and over—angry, full of mirth, clipped, demanding. The way Lando says it when he’s nestled in Daniel’s comforter is his favorite. “You’re going too slow.” 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks.” Daniel presses another kiss to Lando’s clavicle. He strokes Lando’s cock once, just to tease, before he brings his hand back to Lando’s nipple, takes it between thumb and forefinger, and pinches, sure and steady, while Lando’s back arches off the bed. “I wanna take my time with you.”

Lando’s cock leaks precum from that. Daniel loves to watch when it happens, loves the way Lando’s body responds to him. 

There’s no music around them, just the low hum of the hotel room’s AC and their steady breathing. Daniel braces himself over Lando and steals a kiss that Lando readily gives up, tongue sliding against his, insistent and impatient. He moans into it, and Daniel swallows it with his next breath. 

“Danny,” Lando whines, and this, of course, makes Daniel’s cock twitch against Lando’s thigh. It’s a conditioned response now, really. Lando whines, and Daniel gets hard. 

“What do I do with you, hmm?” Daniel skates his tongue along Lando’s sternum. “Always so impatient.”

Lando is ruinous, to him. Ten years his junior, bright and fresh. A fucking spark. 

Daniel’s tasted love before, held its shape and pressed him palms into it, but never like this, never packaged and presented like this. Lando’s hands claw at his back so that Daniel has no choice but to kiss him again, sucking on the tip of Lando’s tongue while he slots himself between spread legs. 

He hasn’t said it, yet, is the thing. He hasn’t pulled the vocabulary from his brain just yet to be able to transmit that information across with his words. The year has been hard, their relationship only really still very much in its early days, even if it’s been seven months since Lando first kissed him, like a calf getting on its legs and finding its footing. 

But Daniel loves him. Daniel spends days apart from him, and days near him, crossing paths on the paddock when he happens to be there for a race weekend, and they glance at each other over a sea of mechanics and the navy blues and papaya-oranges of teams he used to call home. 

Lando hasn’t said it, either, not to him directly. But instead, Lando posts photos of himself wearing Daniel’s clothing, hats he knicked from his suitcase. Lando gets interviewed and says, “I had dinner with Daniel in Monaco,” and, “I love Daniel,” to a crowd of people. 

But he’s never said it to his face. So Daniel waits, and bides his time. He isn’t in a hurry. 

They move together, slowly, undemanding, despite Lando’s protests, and Daniel chases every kiss with another one. He strokes Lando to completion before he even gets a chance to fuck him, and then does so again, when he’s balls-deep inside of him, unhindered by any sort of latex, Lando’s strong legs locking behind his back to keep him in place. 

There’s spunk that plasters their bellies together, after, having fallen asleep with their limbs pretzeled and bordering on uncomfortable. Daniel comes to, the sensation of fingers stroking through his curls coaxing him from slumber. 

He props himself up on an elbow and wrinkles his nose, and Lando giggles, high-pitched and kind of grossed out, the way they have to unstick from each other like they’re caught in those adhesive rat trap sort of things. 

The sun has set in Silverstone. Tomorrow, Lando has free practice, and Daniel will once again sit on the sidelines while twenty other men live out his dream. Except that he has testing the week later, and Lando’s staying to watch. 

The timing comes to him then, while they’re sticky and sweaty and wrapped up in each other. 

“I love you. I hope that’s okay.” 

Lando smiles, eyes colored like deep moss, crinkling at the edges, mouth stretched so his cheeks bunch up. “Yeah,” Lando sighs. “Yeah, that’s quite alright, Danny.” 

Daniel’s eyes find a mole to the right of Lando’s Adam’s apple. He kisses him there. 

[demadogs]

this happened months ago. i cannot keep it in any longer. a while ago i went on a porn site ive never been to and it asked if i was over 18 and i misclicked and said no and it automatically sent me to google images of puppies and kittens. i still cannot get over how funny this is.

[koobiie]

shoutout to everyone who wants to infodump but cant string together coherent thoughts to form sentences and instead just look at you like this

[muttmoxley]

sometimes im like "wow holy shit im being really fucking annoying. i should stop talking" and then i pull out my magic 8 ball and it says "youve always been annoying and your friends chose to talk you anyways. youll be fine" and im like wow thanks magic 8 ball. and then the ogre attacks me

[charlesoberonn]

It's gonna be such a funny mess when Donald Trump dies of a stroke on April 1st, 2024.

Naturally everybody will think it's fake because of the date only to lose their minds (both positively and negatively based on their opinion of trump) when realizing it's real

There will be massive celebrations in the streets and on social media and lots of predictable "don't speak ill of the dead" discourse about those celebrations

Weird evangelicals will pull some weird number trick talking about how Jesus was conceived on April 1st and that makes Trump a sort of messiah and people will make fun of that

The Republicans (after they're done with the faux-sadness and faux-outrage) will stomp over each other to be his successor but none of them will succeed. They'll tear each other apart and have no single nominee for the November elections.

There will be discourse about if Biden and the living former presidents should go to his funeral (they won't, he was a traitor insurrectionist)

The Ukraine-Russia War immediately goes in favor of Ukraine as morale in the Kremlin is reduced. China similarly backs off from its threats on Taiwan.

Ten thousand new memes are made, some sticking around for years to come.

Not a month later a bunch of unofficial biographies of Trump hit the bookshelves, many with new details about just how awful he was.

[eliotlime]

guess i'll put this here too, even though its past the day in my timezone lol

[mias-back-from-the-dead]

tbh i think the funniest phenomena that's been happening in the last couple years is "youtuber, having gone too deep into the research hole, has been made an investigative journalist against their will"

[dionysus-complex]

funniest Kamala Harris VP picks go

[everythingwasnormalhere]

pls rb if you think cuddling doesn't have to be s3xual

im tryna prove a point to my bf's mother help me out

[great-and-small]

My grandfather and my godfather (a beloved neighbor and dear family friend) had a long standing bet- for one dollar- about who would die first. Both of them being slightly pessimistic (in the funny way), they both insisted that they themselves would be the first to die. Any time my grandfather had a health scare, he’d gleefully call up my godfather to boast that he’d be passing “any day now” and he was sure to win the bet. It was a big family joke and they were always amiably sparring and comparing notes about who was in worse shape, medically speaking.

When my grandfather was in hospice care dying of liver cancer, my godfather was quite ill also. It took him great effort to make the journey to see his dying friend. As he came into the room, supported by a family member, he shuffled to my grandpa’s bedside and silently handed him a dollar bill. He was ceding his loss of the bet, as they both knew who was going first. My grandpa had been in quite bad shape for a while and was no longer able to speak but let me tell you he snatched that dollar with unexpected strength and literally laughed aloud. He knew exactly what the gesture meant and he couldn’t help but find the humor within the grief. It was the last time any of us heard my grandpa laugh, as he passed shortly after.

When I talk about my appreciation for “dark humor” I’m not so much thinking about edgy jokes, but rather the human instinct to somehow, impossibly, both find and appreciate the absurdity that is so often folded into the profound grief of life and death. When I tell this story I think it kind of perturbs people sometimes, but it’s honestly one of my favorite memories about two men I really deeply admired. I could never hope for anything more than for my loved ones to remember me laughing until the very end, and taking joy in a little joke as one of my final acts.

[riacte]

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

[pirateprincessjess]

When I was a kid my family pretended to get raptured so I would think I was left behind on earth while they all went to heaven.

I was like 8 years old and my sister and mom had gotten really into the Left Behind novels (bible fan fic about the rapture). In the books when the rapture happened the clothes that people were wearing when they got raptured were left behind in neatly folded piles.

One day when I was getting home from school my family decided that they would leave piles of neatly folded clothes around the house, and then hide in the basement.

The intended effect was that I would get home and see the clothes then, think that my family had been raptured and that I wasn’t good enough to get into heaven… or something?

The problem was that I had never read these books, and didn’t really think about the rapture very often. There was no reason that I would see some laundry on the floor and think “The rapture happened and I’ve been abandoned by God! I’ll never see my family again!! Oh nooo!!!!”

I just sat down and watched cartoons and eventually my family got bored and revealed that they were all hiding in the basement.

It’s a good thing I didn’t understand the joke, otherwise that shit would have been traumatic.

[mayhemchicken-artblog]

in the hour or so it took me to draw this op turned reblogs off

EDIT: reblogs are STAYING OFF. op was right and correct and i have never regretted making a post as much as this one. if you want to reblog my art you can reblog something else from my blog. or commission me, lord knows i deserve financial compensation for the nightmare this post has put me through

[skipppppy]

Highkey one of the funniest parts of Gravity Falls is how obnoxiously close they come to revealing Ford’s existence in the early seasons but never do out of just. Cosmic levels of dumb luck

Episode 1 Stan nearly catches Dipper with the journal and it’s passed off as a gag about Gold Chains for Old Men magazine. In Time Travellers Pig they go back to the Shack 30 years in the past and miss Ford opening the door on them by literal seconds. In bottomless pit Mabel gives him a set of truth teeth that make him incapable of lying and he tells the twins TO THEIR FACES that he regularly commits massive tax fraud and if they had asked him to elaborate he would’ve told them who he was impersonating. In one of the shorts Dipper and Soos find a sentient omniscient mailbox that will answer any question in the universe, and right before they can ask it who wrote the journals Mabel shows it a video of herself snorting gummy worms and it kills itself out of disgust. The entirety of Dreamscaperers is them delving into the depths of Stan’s psyche, going through his memories, all while fighting his brother’s ex-boyfriend and it somehow just. Doesn’t come up. Bill never mentions him. Their grandpa Shermie never said anything. Their parents never said anything. Either the universe was conspiring to cover it up or they are genuinely all that oblivious

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Knowledge Revenge.