#so rushed

[meemawmilo]

yandere stalker! oc x reader ──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

you’d been scared the first night he had called you.

at the time it was nearing three am, and you were tucked inside of your bedsheets and using your phone. he hadn’t messaged you that day or even the day prior, and though you’d found it strange you weren’t in a position to complain.

perhaps he was finally moving on?

but then the calls had started, sending vibrations that made your hands shake as your heart picked up in pace. you sat up in your bed, unsure as to whether or not you should pick up.

he had never rung you before, but eventually you decided you were interested to hear what he had to say.

he was crying when he picked up. weeping into the phone and pleading for your forgiveness. you were unsure, you asked him what he had done wrong, but he couldn’t answer. he continued to cry until you had cut the call, and then he called you again and you picked up once more.

���i didn’t mean to!” he sobbed. “i missed you so much.. i-i couldn’t hold myself back!”

you never found out what he was talking about. you had tried to comfort him, trying your best to console him over the phone which had made him cry even more. he called you his angel, he pleaded for your efforts to make him feel better. but when you asked him what he had done you were met with silence, and the sound of his shaking breaths. ──★ ˙

[blahlahblash]

Day: 29 "False Alarm"

He spooked them.

[scrollonso]

Time Machine — Max & Vale

@boxboxluckybird 😾

Max stood in his living room, the tension between him and his father, Jos, thick enough to cut with a knife. Jos paced back and forth, his face red with frustration.

"I just don't understand you anymore, Max!" Jos shouted, his voice echoing in the room. "You throw everything away — your career, your focus — all for what? For some... childish rebellion? You are too grown to act this way."

Max clenched his fists at his sides, trying to keep his composure. "I'm not throwing anything away," he replied firmly. "I'm living my life the way I want to. Not the way you want me to!"

Jos stopped pacing and glared at his son. "Your way is a disaster waiting to happen! You think this... this nonsense you're chasing is more important than racing? Than being the best?"

"It's not nonsense!" Max snapped, his voice rising. "For once, it's something that makes me happy. And I'm sick of you trying to control everything I do!"

Jos's expression darkened, and he stepped closer to Max. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said in a low, threatening tone. "I made you. Without me, you wouldn't even be here!"

Max took a step back, his heart pounding. "I know exactly what I'm talking about," he said. "And I'm done letting you dictate my life. I'm not a kid anymore, Dad!"

The argument had escalated faster than Max could have anticipated. Jos’s voice was sharp and venomous, his words cutting deeper than they ever had before.

"You’re pathetic, Max," Jos seethed, his face inches from his son’s. "You don’t have the guts to make the hard decisions. You’re weak!"

Max's chest tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He had spent years enduring his father's harsh words, but something inside him snapped. "You don't control me anymore, Dad," Max said, his voice shaking but defiant. "I’m not your— I'm not your fucking puppet."

Before Max could react, Jos’s hand shot out, striking him hard across the face. The force of the blow sent Max stumbling backward, his cheek stinging with pain.

"Dad—" Max started, his voice faltering, but Jos didn’t stop. He grabbed Max by the arm and shoved him against the wall, the impact sending a sharp pain through Max’s back.

"You don’t talk to me like that," Jos growled, his grip on Max’s arm tightening painfully. "You don’t get to disrespect me after everything I’ve done for you!"

Max struggled, his heart pounding in fear. "Get off me!" he shouted, pushing against his father’s chest.

But Jos was relentless. He shoved Max harder, his anger boiling over. "You’re nothing but an ungrateful brat!"

The sound of Jos’s voice seemed distant now, drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through Max’s veins. Summoning all his strength, Max twisted out of his father’s grip and shoved him back.

"Stay away from me!" Max yelled, his voice cracking with emotion.

Jos stumbled, his eyes wide with fury, but something in Max’s stance made him hesitate. For a moment, neither of them moved, the room heavy with tension and the sound of their ragged breathing.

Max’s hand trembled as he touched his bruised cheek, his chest heaving. "You don’t get to hurt me anymore," he said quietly, his voice firm despite the tears welling in his eyes. "I’m done."

Without waiting for a response, Max turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. The cold night air hit him like a slap, but he welcomed it. It was freedom.

Max eventually found his way to Daniil's apartment, his face red, bruised and tear-streaked. His trembling giving an illusion that he was smaller than he was — he felt smaller than he was.

He clutched his side protectively, and his eyes darted around the hallway like he was expecting someone to follow him. Daniil immediately stepped aside, his worry flaring into anger as Max stumbled in.

“Max, what happened?” Daniil asked, his voice tight with concern as he gently took Max’s arm to guide him to the couch.

Max flinched at the contact, biting his lip to hold back more tears. “It’s my dad,” he whispered, his voice shaky. “He— he got mad, and he—” Max choked on his words, unable to finish.

Daniil’s chest tightened as he knelt in front of Max, scanning him for injuries. “Okay, okay, you’re safe here,” he said softly, though his mind was racing with anger and helplessness. “Did he— Max, did he hit you?”

Max nodded, finally letting out a sob as he pulled up his shirt to reveal a bruise forming on his ribs — this had become their routine since Max started racing in F1 two years prior. Daniil inhaled sharply, his fists clenching at his sides. He felt sick with rage, but he knew that right now, Max needed comfort, not an outburst — not another one.

He sat beside Max and pulled him into a careful hug, letting the younger man cry against his shoulder. “I’ve got you,” Daniil murmured. “No one’s going to hurt you here. I promise.”

But Daniil knew he needed help — someone who had been through this, someone who would know what to say. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, hesitating for only a moment before dialing Marc Marquez.

Marc answered on the second ring. “Daniil? What’s up?”

“I need your help,” Daniil said quickly, his voice low so Max wouldn’t hear. “Max is here. His dad hurt him. I don’t know what to do.”

Marc swore under his breath. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Actually…” Daniil hesitated. “I know you and Valentino aren’t talking anymore, but I need his help. He… he went through something like this with his dad, didn't he?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally, Marc sighed. “Give me a minute. I’ll call him.”

Within the hour, Valentino arrived at Daniil’s apartment. When Daniil opened the door, he was struck by how different Vale seemed. The man who usually radiated a carefree charm, the ever-smiling racer who could light up a room with a single laugh — when with the right people — was gone. Instead, Valentino stood in the hallway, his jaw set, his eyes filled with quiet determination. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries or questions. He stepped inside with purpose, his movements deliberate but gentle, as though he was preparing himself for what was to come.

“Where is he?” Vale asked softly, his voice low but steady.

Daniil pointed toward the couch, where Max was curled up with his knees tucked against his chest, staring blankly at the floor. He looked so small, so utterly lost, that Daniil’s heart ached all over again. Valentino’s expression softened as he caught sight of him, his gaze filled with both empathy and a quiet resolve.

Valentino approached the couch slowly, his steps careful and measured. He lowered himself onto the cushion beside Max, leaving enough space to avoid overwhelming him. For a moment, he just sat there in silence, his presence calm and unintrusive, letting Max sense that he wasn’t alone. It was uncanny, truly, the resemblance between his and Max's own situations. Vale had stumbled over to Uccio's flat, looking just like Max had, dozens of times before they finally decided it was best for him to just move in.

“Hey, Max,” Vale said gently, his voice as warm and soothing as a blanket on a cold night. Max didn’t look up, his eyes still fixed on the floor, but his lip quivered at the sound of Valentino’s voice. "I'm Valentino."

The introduction seemed to get Max's attention, the Dutchman couldn't help but let out a huff, "Everyone knows who you are, Valentino."

He couldn't help but smile softly, looking at the young man in front of him was like going back to his youth all over again. "Daniil told me what happened,” Valentino continued, leaning forward slightly but keeping his hands to himself. “Can you talk to me, kid?”

Max sniffled, his shoulders trembling as he stole a glance at Valentino out of the corner of his eye. “Why are you here?” he asked hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper.

Valentino didn’t hesitate. “Because I’ve been where you are,” he said simply, his tone steady but filled with emotion. “My dad used to hurt me, too. I know how hard it is to feel safe after something like that, how hard it is to get away for good. But I also know you’re not alone. You’ve got people who care about you, Max. People who want to help. Do you want help, kid?.”

Max blinked at him, his watery eyes widening slightly as tears began to well up again. “He… he says it's my fault,” Max whispered, his voice breaking. “That I make him mad and I deserve it.”

Valentino shook his head firmly, his expression darkening with a flash of anger that wasn’t directed at Max — a flash of determination telling himself that he wouldn't let another person hurt how he does. “It’s not your fault, Max. It’s never your fault,” he said, his voice strong and unwavering. “What he did to you says everything about him and nothing about you. Do you hear me? Nothing about you. No good man would ever hurt a kid, no father should ever lay a hand on his kid.”

Max’s fragile composure shattered, and he broke down completely, sobbing into his hands. His entire body shook with the force of his tears, and Valentino didn’t hesitate this time. He moved closer and wrapped an arm around Max’s trembling shoulders, holding him close but not too tightly, letting Max know he was safe.

“You’re going to get through this, y’know,” Vale murmured, his voice soft and reassuring as he rested his chin lightly on top of Max’s head. “And you don’t have to do it alone. Daniil’s here for you. I’m here. Everyone who cares about you is here. You’ve got a whole team in your corner, Max. We want you to be safe, to get out. You’re not alone in this.”

Max sobbed harder at those words, clutching at Valentino’s shirt like a lifeline. Daniil watched from a few steps away, his throat tight and his eyes stinging. He had never seen Valentino like this before — so open, so vulnerable, yet so strong. Even the few times Vale had spoken about his childhood and his relationship with his father he had simply brushed it off as if it didn't matter, but now he was eye level with Max and reliving his hurt. Reliving his worst memories because hurting all over is worth it if it means getting this kid help. For the first time that night, Daniil felt a flicker of hope. For the first time that night, he felt like Max might actually be okay.

[fearthhereaper]

Aemond dismissing Alicent makes sense in the context of what his character arc is this season... unfortunately, his character arc is so superficially written that nothing about it makes sense

[rasberryt0rte]

rushed thjs❗❗can we ignore I'm 10 minutes late to day 2 🙏 my time management skills are acc on a whole new level 🔥🔥🔥🔥

okiii so the prompt was Wisp and i literally had no clue what that was and wiki said it could also be a jack o lantern so I rlly ran w it idk how I thought I'd make it on time i realised I hadn't done day 2 at literally 23:56 😭

obligatory wisp girl, also I tried using the pixalate tool over the physical drawing bc I thought It would make it more true to nature but being fr I have no clue how to draw a wisp , whisper is also their bc I thought of him 1st ^-^ I'm gonna go read or smth bye again Tumblr ❗❗❗❗

[eddiemelrose]

Once again raging over the epilogue of The Ruby Circle not mentioning anything about where Adrian and Daniella get blood. You're telling me they just don't need it? Sydney suddenly performed the biggest plot twist of all time and became their feeder? Eddie relapsed from his time in Spokane? Adrian feeds on the kids he teaches? It's such a core problem that could have such a simple answer but there's nothing.

"After we'd rescued Jill and agreed to raise Declan, we'd had to make a very quick decision about where to run off to with our newly bought freedom. Northern Maine had won out. Close to civilization but far enough that it wasn't so easy for someone to sneak up on us."

There could have just been an extra sentence here about it having small Moroi groups where feeders were readily accessible?

idk I just find this extra wild bc I only went back to TRC to recheck Declan's timeline, and while doing so I found scenes where the leader of the dhampir commune make it clear to Adrian there's no feeders, plus when Jill is rescued there's a big deal about her drinking animal blood and then getting her and Adrian to an actual feeder. tf kind of oversight is this bro.

[spacedragonsxx]

Y’all wtf was that ….I’m a little disappointed ngl

[seoafin]

akutami is rushing jjk so hard rn 😭

[gwydionae]

Behold, one of my best friend's Halloween costumes, recorded and uploaded by a complete stranger with over a million views on tiktok! (I'm so proud!!)

[ju-nebugg]

cute <3

[cloudcastor]

We finish this, Together.

[artsymeeshee]

Thinking about the idea I had a LONG time ago about Mabel sending motivational and complimenting stickers for the boys and Ford saving a “write your own message” one just for Stan and had to draw it.

[thestuffedalligator]

So usually when an imaginary friend is a real thing in a story, it’s either a demon or a ghost or some supernatural boogeyman that probably wants to eat the kid they’ve befriended (Mama, a couple of the Paranormal Activity movies), or “imaginary friends” are just treated as a real thing in the setting, and if a child just thinks hard enough they can manifest a friend into existence (Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends, Happy).

And somewhere in the middle is an area where the imaginary friend in question is real and they are supernatural, but they aren’t malevolent, and they aren’t entirely honest about what they are. Like maybe they’re a fairy or a god or some kind of boggle from mythology, but they just got caught by a six year old and they don’t have time to get into it, so they just go “…Yes. I’m your imaginary friend. We haven’t met. How do you do.” And then they stick around because they do love this kid, and if you’re a boggle from mythology in the modern day good food is really hard to come by.

And at some level. That’s what I think Hobbes is.

[scrollonso]

Home Sweet Home — Lawhan

for @ellearts ofc!! i love you cutie

Jack and Liam stepped through the front door of their shared home with Pierce cradled in Liam’s arms, feeling a mix of wonder, relief, and overwhelming joy.

It was surreal; after all the waiting, dreaming, and planning, they were finally home with their son. The house felt different — warmer, brighter — as if it had been waiting to become a family home all along.

They walked slowly down the hallway, careful not to wake the baby, their footsteps soft on the hardwood floors. Jack smiled as he glanced around, seeing the little touches they’d added to make this place Pierce’s home. His eyes eventually landed on his husband and their son, he couldn't imagine a life more perfect than the one they were starting today. The nursery door was open, and soft, pastel light spilled out, welcoming them inside.

The nursery had been a labour of love for both of them. They’d spent hours picking out the details, from the woodland mural on the wall, painted with foxes, rabbits, and trees, to the handmade mobile that hung over the crib — Liam was very proud of himself for making it from scratch. The mobile was dotted with tiny felt stars and clouds, each one swaying gently in the air, they prayed Pierce would love it as much as they do.

Liam moved toward the crib, setting Pierce down with the utmost care — triple checking that he was okay before retreating back next to his husband. Pierce stirred, his little face scrunching up for a moment before relaxing, his breathing soft and even. Jack brushed a finger over the edge of the crib, smiling as he looked at the plush animals they’d carefully arranged by the crib — a teddy bear, a soft bunny, and a small, knitted fox.

“I can’t believe he’s finally here,” Liam whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he gazed at Pierce — he was trying his hardest not to cry.

Jack slipped an arm around Liam’s shoulders, leaning into him. “I know. It feels… surreal. Like everything we’ve done led us to this.”

They moved quietly around the room, straightening tiny details, though it hardly needed it. The rocking chair in the corner was draped with a cozy blanket that Jack’s mom had knitted. A small bookshelf beside it was already filled with picture books, and above it, they’d hung a small framed sign with Pierce's name burnt into it.

Each corner of the nursery had been filled with love, from the nightlight that glowed softly with stars to the little dresser, its drawers carefully organized with tiny onesies, socks, and soft blankets. Liam chuckled as he glanced at the small pile of diapers they’d stacked next to the changing table, realizing how much they’d probably over-prepared — and how grateful they were for it now.

They stood by Pierce’s crib, taking in the room and all they’d done to make it feel safe, warm, and full of love. It was simple, but it was everything they’d dreamed of — a place where their little family could grow.

Liam sighed softly, his arm resting on Jack’s. “He’s got a whole world waiting for him. And we’re finally here to share it with him.”

Jack nodded, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “I can't wait to share this with you, Li." He breathed before leaning closer to place a kiss to his husbands temple, life couldn't get better than this.

[dr11ft]

chicana miku 🤎

[viorhysealberia]

pokemon fans when they have to wait another year for the next big game with no major releases in-between