#alana beard

[mwesrik]

Recently started my rewatch of season 3 and I’m very torn on my opinion on it. On the one hand it’s got the storybeats I’ve been waiting for and they’re intensely satisfying. Also it’s by far the most beautiful season in terms of environment, camera work and editing. But the writing is a little odd to me at some points and some things the characters do feel a little strange to me.

So I’m curious:

[therunwayarchive]

Alana Felisberto for Veronica Beard, Pre-Fall 2022

[stripydottycat]

What if Franklyn wasn't such a benign presence? He invented the anxious personality as a reason to see Hannibal after reading about him in the social pages & becoming obsessed with him. He reads everything he can about Hannibal, scouring the web for any snippet. His medical career combines with his support of the Baltimore cultural scene means there’s plenty of fuel to feed his obsession.

He puts a tracker on Hannibal's car so he can - oh what a surprise! - bump into Hannibal at a farmer’s market, or delicatessen, or at a purveyor of fine pocket squares.

He causes subtle but nasty harm to anyone Hannibal seems to befriend or spend time with.

Mrs Komeda's prized roses all suddenly die.

Alana finds her tyres slashed several times within a few months.

Another patient who Hannibal sees just before Franklyn finds someone has keyed their car while parked outside Hannibal's office.

And Will….

The possibilities are endless. Will’s house is so isolated.

He empties bags of rubbish collected on the way out to Wolf Trap on Will's porch.

Spray paints graffiti on his shed.

Leaves strings of sausages on the front door step. The dogs can't get to them, but they create chaos inside the house as they bark at the strange man, & the sausage smell drives them wild.

Will comes home to a mess as they leapt onto tables & chairs while Franklyn was there taunting the dogs. He is puzzled by the sausages & disposes of them in case they're poisoned. This does worry him.

He calls up an ex colleague from the NOPD who now has a security company. He installs a very discrete security system for Will, mates rates.

Will is surprised to get a security notification during a lecture. On the app he sees a short bearded man park his car and approach his house with a bucket of what looks like paint. The man stands on his porch steps, bending over to pry off the lid. The camera quality is so good, Will can see the paint is bright pink. “What the hell are you doing? Get the fuck away from my house.”

The man jumps, looked spooked and glancing around anxiously.

“Go on, get out of here or I’ll set the dogs on you! Raaaaaarrrrrrrr” yells Will.

The man drops the lid of the paint and dashes to his car, driving off in a hurry.

Will chuckles, then remembers he’s in the middle of teaching a class.

“Just interrupted an intruder. Or someone who thought my house would benefit from a Barbie makeover.” He explains, and continues with his lecture.

After the class he goes to see Bev and asks for some DNA swabs & a fingerprint kit to see if he can identify his visitor. Plus the vision from the camera is great.

An hour later while doing some marking in his office, his security app pings again.

This time…..it’s Hannibal.

[will-graham-crackers]

murder family au where hannibal and alana co-parent abigail (they were eachother’s beard) and then they all murder people together? everything else is the same except alana and hannibal are murder friends!!!! AND ABIGAIL DOES NOT DIE. SHE CANT DIE I LOVE HER. and it’s happy and funny and nothing goes wrong????

“Oh nooo don’t write this, you already have another fic in progresssss”

I DONT CARE I DO WHAT I WANT VOUCE OF REASON

[sunny-knightsky]

More stuff from uni, this time for character design class. This is Alana, the leader of a group of rebels called the Red birds in a post apocalyptic world. She is a mutant who can turn into a bearded vulture. Her and her brother (character on the far right of the last picture) were made by an organization, which she later betrays, escaping and leaving her brother behing.

Jericho (the character right next to her) is the best pilot of the group, they often work together and have a pseudo-romance, that will, eventually, flourish once the war is over. Chris is Jericho's daughter, a good kid who doesn't yet fully comprehend what her dad does, but still thinks it's cool! Also yes they're wearing Jericho's jacket.

Alana is a strict leader for the Red birds, but she is even more strict on herself. She's often overworked and ends up crashing after many nights of not resting. Luckily for her, Jericho will always be there to support her

[cariantha]

Hey, Stranger

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks)

Rating: Explicit

Warning: 🔥NSFW, ⛔18+ Only, contains explicit sexual content

Category: Fluff, Smut

Word count: 2.4K

Summary: A handsome stranger offers Sawyer a ride in his pickup truck.

A/N: Artwork by the incredible @/artbyainna on Instagram. This fic was inspired by the song Look I Like by Alana Springsteen.

With a fresh coat of lip gloss and a fluff of her tousled waves, Sawyer exits the crowded ladies' room to a cacophony of distant conversations, glasses clinking, 80’s rock music, and pool balls crashing into each other. She breathes in the smell of beer and fried food as her eyes adjust to the dimly lit bar. The main source of light, a buzzing neon sign that reads The Rhode House, beckons her to the center of the action.  

Squeezing between several patrons, she flags down the bartender and orders a local draft. As she waits, Sawyer takes in the scene around her. The crowd, mostly locals, is a mix of working classes. The Rhodie accents are thicker among the jovial blue collars, while the more reserved white collars literally wear the mark of their collared shirts.

“A Sea Dog Wild Blueberry for the lady,” the bartender draws her attention. As she turns back around, she catches a sidelong glance from an attractive man sitting a few seats away. She tastes the foam from her glass and casually positions herself to get a better look at the handsome fellow. 

The soles of his brown laced boots are caked in dried mud, and he wears a pair of Levi’s that fit snugly around his muscular calves and thighs. The backless barstool affords her a clear view of his perfectly rounded ass.

A distressed cotton T-shirt molds to his torso, the short sleeves tight around his thick biceps. When he sits a bit straighter, Sawyer can see the peaks of his pecs on full display.

She follows a trail of stubble from his neck to his chin and along his masculine jawline. His well-worn baseball cap casts a shadow over his hooded eyes, and dark chestnut hair curls around its edges.

There is something about how he holds his drink and thoughtfully swirls the amber liquid in his glass. A tough and rugged exterior permeates confidence and sophistication. It’s as though he’s lived on both sides of the tracks and finds himself most comfortable living somewhere in between. 

As if he could feel the heat of her gaze, the stranger turned his head slightly over his shoulder, catching her in the act of checking him out. 

Sawyer doesn’t shy away. Instead, she smiles unabashedly and takes a slow sip of her beer. But the intoxicating moment is instantly sobered when a portly patron sitting between them stands to reach for his wallet.

Luckily, the crowded bar does not deter their interest in each other. Returning to their drinks, they continue their game of eye tag, taking a peak whenever an opening appears. 

Sawyer has only had a few swallows of beer, but the way this man keeps looking at her makes her feel a bit tipsy. And just when she thinks he couldn’t be more her type, the complete opposite slinks in beside her, cutting off the view. 

She quickly surveys the offender. 

Mahogany oxfords match the leather belt looped through his tan dress pants, and a gray wool sweater layers over a neatly tucked-in button-down.

He’s tall and fit, his face framed by a neatly trimmed beard and smart tortoiseshell glasses.

He has the air of a wealthy New Englander, a preppy who probably drives a BMW and is a country club member down the street.

After ordering an Old Fashioned, he turns to her with a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns politely. 

Leaning down to her ear, he speaks over the hubbub of the bar. 

“I noticed you from the other side of the room and wanted to come say hello.” 

Her senses are overwhelmed by hints of spice and cedarwood standing this close.

“I landed a big promotion at work, and I’m celebrating tonight,” he added.

“Congratulations,” she offered. 

“I’d really like to buy you a drink.”

There’s no denying he’s attractive and polite, but he’s too polished. Too well-mannered for what she had in mind that evening.

The bartender interrupts before Sawyer can even respond, placing a drink in front of her. “From the gentleman in the hat,” he says, tilting his head toward the sexy stranger from before.

“What kind of drink is this?” she asks, holding the glass to her nose to take a sniff.

“It’s our house special…the Rhode House Special. It’s not on the menu, but it’s a local favorite,” the bartender answers.

Turning back to the prepster, Sawyer remembers his offer.

“Thank you, but it appears someone has beat you to it,” she smiles apologetically. 

Accepting his defeat, the man in the wool sweater collects his drink and nods. “If you change your mind…” he trails off before returning to his party.

Sawyer catches her new friend's eye, raises her glass, and offers a coy smile of gratitude.

He acknowledges with a tip of his hat. 

Eyes never leaving him, she takes a long, savoring sip. She rewards his kind gesture with a slow lick of her lips, earning a satisfied smirk before he turns his attention back to his own drink.

With the ball in her court, she gathers her things and wedges herself into the narrow space between his stool and the occupied one beside him.

“Hey, stranger," she greets, instantly mesmerized by his piercing blue eyes.

“Hey,” his voice is rich and velvety. 

“I’ve been watching you.”

“Same.”

Sawyer rests her back against the bar top, the new angle putting her cleavage on full display. Her audience takes the bait and shamelessly adjusts to the new focal point.

“I don’t know if you’re here with somebody tonight…but I hope you’re not,” she confesses.

“I’m not.”

“Anyone waiting at home?”

He shakes his head no and takes a swig from his tumbler.

“Good. Because I like what I’ve seen.” She deliberately looks him up and down. “You’ve got that look I like.” 

“Oh? What look is that?” 

She drags her teeth over her bottom lip and leans in. Her breath caresses the shell of his ear as she speaks.  

“The look of a guy not afraid to get a little…dirty.” 

His eyes immediately rake over her body. The silky red fabric of her spaghetti strap sundress feels see-through under his scrutiny. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth when his gaze falls on her muddy cowboy boots. He appears to have reached the same conclusion about her.

Downing the last of his drink, he stands, already knowing the answer to his next question. 

“My truck is parked in the back. Do you want to go for a ride?”

“God, yes.”

After settling their tabs, Sawyer boldly follows the dashing stranger to the parking lot. His ‘77 Ford F250 Highboy is parked in a dark corner. The truck is in excellent condition for as many miles as it’s seen. An outstretched hand holds her steady as she climbs into the passenger side and slides onto the bench seat. 

The driver’s side door opens a moment later, and her chauffeur sits behind the wheel. He puts a key in the ignition, turning it over just enough to let the push button radio come on. Soft country music fills the cab while a soft red glow from the bar’s outdoor sign filters through the windows. 

Sawyer notices how he relaxes on the bench, his legs falling open. Scooting to the middle seat, she runs her fingers from his knee up his thigh.

“Before we take that ride, how about we warm up the engine?” she suggests, running the back of her fingers over the swelling fly of his jeans.

He answers with a moan. 

Wasting no time, Sawyer unbuckles his belt. She yanks it from around his waist and drops it to the floorboard. Unfastening his pants, she guides her hand under the elastic band, freeing him of the confines of his boxer briefs.

A devilish smile flits across her face before she bends down.

She drags her tongue up and down the length of his shaft, drawing teasing circles around the tip before finally taking him into her mouth. Her hands hold his hips down as her lips expertly glide along the delicate skin. Sawyer takes as much of him in as she can, her cheeks slightly caving in with each nectareous suck.

His head slowly falls back while his fingers tangle into her blondish tresses. 

She gauges how close he is by the unmistakable sounds of pleasure and the tightening grip on her hair. She releases him with a pop and sits up when he's on the verge of release.

As he descends back to earth, Sawyer gently removes his ball cap and blindly lays it on the dashboard behind her.

Her hands slowly navigate the landscape beneath his shirt. When her fingers graze the hair on his chest, she eases one hand behind his back and tugs it off.

She studies his torso like a map. Her fingers trace a path from his collarbone, under his rounded pecs, over his ribs, and down the plane of his rolling six-pack. Taking a direct route to the valley of his chest, she diverts quickly to his nipple, circling it with her thumb. 

With her lips at his ear, she whispers, “Ready for a wild ride?”

Sitting back in her seat, Sawyer slips her boots off, then reaches under the skirt of her dress. Slightly elevating her hips, she removes her blush-colored panties and hangs them around the rearview mirror for safekeeping.

Throwing a leg over his lap, she straddles him, careful not to take him in just yet. She rests on his powerful thighs and wraps her hand around his manhood, stroking him a few times. 

He eagerly reaches for Sawyer’s waist, silently coaxing her to come closer. Hooking a finger under the thin strap of her dress, he slides it off, exposing her bare breast. His large hand envelopes it, massaging her nipple into a stiff peak. He pushes the other strap off her shoulder, the top of her dress falling to her waist. Swiftly leaning forward, he takes her into his mouth.

Sawyer folds her arms around his neck to hold him in place as he delightfully nips and sucks.

The hungry hunk lifts his head and forcefully captures her mouth. It’s the first time their lips have connected tonight, and they are immediately open to one another. He cups her face in his hands, pinning her hair back as his tongue occupies her mouth.

The intense sensation stimulates her whole body, and she unconsciously inches her sex closer to his.  

With equal force, Sawyer pushes him away, shoving his shoulders against the back of the bench. Hurriedly, she reaches under the hem of her dress, and holding him in position, she rises just enough to mount him.

He hisses as she lowers herself and takes him in completely. 

She rocks her hips back and forth at a steady pace while his hands begin a journey up her thighs, around her hips, and finally come to rest on her bare ass. But the green of her eyes has him on the move again. His touch travels up her spine, over her shoulders, through the valley of her breasts, and past her navel, until his thumb finally reaches the spot. 

The pace quickens, and Sawyer pushes her hands against the cab's roof for extra support. Her breasts bounce with each rise and fall. But strong hands hold her hips in place as each downbeat is met with an upward thrust. 

“Yes…yes,” she mewls. “Oh my god…I’m so close.”

“Come on, baby,” her lover instructs.

Sawyer cries out as she is lifted to heaven by the rapture. “ETHAN!” 

Throwing an arm behind her, she plants her hand on his knee. Her hair falls back as she arches deeply, pushing her breasts forward while she rides out her orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan whispers at the sight of his climaxing girlfriend.

The involuntary shudders set him off and filled her with warmth.

Ethan rests his head against the cool rear window and closes his eyes to regain equilibrium. 

When he opens them a few moments later, Sawyer rises to help him ease out. But before she can fully dismount, he seizes the sides of her face. Pulling her close, he crushes his lips onto hers. “You are fucking incredible. You know that, right?” He kisses her again, softly this time. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, stranger,” she giggled. “Thanks for playing along.” 

“Thank you. But I’m curious. What brought this on?”

“You know I go feral anytime you wear jeans and a t-shirt…” she reaches behind for his Hopkins cap, placing it backward on his head, “and your baseball hat. Also, watching you hang siding with your dad today,” she fans herself. “You were such a tease… giving me peeks of skin… and showing off your hot bod,” she explains, skimming her fingers along his V-lines.

Ethan’s phone buzzes, and he looks at the caller ID. “Speaking of…”  

He puts the call on speaker as Sawyer moves back to the passenger side and pulls her dress straps back onto her shoulders.

“Hi, Dad.” 

“Hey, did you kids get lost or something?” 

“Sorry, we took a little detour,” he winks at Sawyer. “We picked up the paint and will be home right after I stop and fill your truck with gas. You’re almost on empty.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, Son. Thank you.”

“We’ll see you soon, Dad.”

As they put themselves back together, Sawyer asks, “So, the Rhode House Special? That’s the same drink you had Reggie make the day we met, right?”

“It is.” 

“Are you going to tell me what’s in it finally?”

He chuckles, turning over the ignition. “Nope.”

“Ethan!” she swats at him as he puts the truck in gear. 

He smiles when he checks the rearview mirror to ensure it's safe to back up. “As much as I love this view, I do believe these pose a driving hazard,” he chuckles, unhooking her panties from the mirror. 

“I guess I should put those back on,” she says, reaching for them. 

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he retreats, tucking them into his pocket. “We’re going to take full advantage of this bench seat.” 

Tapping the middle space between them, “Scoot your ass over here and buckle up, baby. This strap is going to hold you down when you start bucking your hips,” he smiles smugly, tightening her seatbelt. “I want you s-”

“Safe?”

“No. Screaming my name again.”

BONUS: This is the slut that had that Sawyer so worked up all day.🥵 Happy Smutember!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @potionsprefect @jamespotterthefirst @annfg8 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @jerzwriter @quixoticdreamer16 @mysticalgalaxysstuff @inlocusmads @txemrn @trappedinfanfiction @mvalentine @takemyopenheart @openheartforeverinmyheart @coffeeheartaddict2 @genevievemd @starrystarrytrouble @hopelessromantic1352 @kyra75 @lsvdw-blog @rookiemartin @headoverheelsforramsey

[islandtarochips]

How would the wtf team react if ruz became a boy 🧒

Tiala, blinked a few times: .........HOW?

Kanoa: Oh hey there! You look quite familiar. You almost look like one of the soldier that I knew. Ruz! Hehehe. ......wait, that's YOU? Don't be pulling my legs now. Hahaha! .......RUZ?!?

Agnes: O. M. G! RUZ?! Is that YOU?! OH MY GOD! You look great! ANd handsome looking like this~ Say, question. How big is it under there?

Nigel, jaw dropped as he has no words: .......................................................................................you need to shave those beard of yours.

Aelan, was studying Ruz: How did you become like this? Well, I'm impressed to be honest but I think we need you back though. Heh.

Alana: Are you feeling alright? How did this happened? It's not one of the Price's boys' prank is it? Or Shepherd experimenting on you?

Some of them are surprised and some of them had seen other things. So yeah. They'll react like that. Lol. And I gotta say, Male!Ruz looks VERY handsome! Thank you for sending this, pele!

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Fair - Vostanik Sabatino x Reader

Tagging: @words-and-seeds @kmc1989 @thiashazzywriting @novamariestark @whateversomethingbruh @reneejett4 @trublu2u @stelacole

Hitting the Single on Valentine's Day Square

You don’t expect to see Nik sitting on your porch when you get home that night, a bouquet of brightly coloured daisies clasped in his hand as he watches you step out of the Uber. The two of you haven’t spoken since the last time he was her. He’d walked out in the middle of a fight and you hadn’t seen him since. That had been over three weeks ago.

You’re dressed up tonight, soft makeup that accentuates your features and a dress that Nik hasn’t seen before. It’s a wine red, off the shoulder affair that highlights your assets. It’s elegant, sexy. The perfect attire for a date. You’re an attractive woman, compassionate and dedicated, any man would be lucky to have you…

That’s what he should have said instead of walking out.

He still isn’t sure how the dispute devolved the way it did. It had started with an argument about him derailing your investigation and spiralled out from there. You’d accused him of being unable to compromise and he’d snapped back because it had hit a little too close to home. He’d gone out to cool his head and before he knew it he was being picked up off the street by Ferris and Henderson before being bundled onto a plane to Iran. Apparently shit was kicking off, he was the only one with the contacts to resolve it. By the time he’d gotten his hands on a burner phone, he was on his way back to the US.

It’s over, Nik realises in that moment.

All of this bullshit with him and the CIA, it’s become too much. He doesn’t blame you, he can’t give you what you deserve. He isn’t around to celebrate your successes, to hold you when you’re having a bad day. He sets the flowers down, his palm rubbing over the beard that lines his jaw. He’d come straight here from the airport, he’s running on fumes. He can barely think straight.

“Sassy.” You say as you sit down alongside of him on the porch. “I was out with Sassy until she got a better offer.”

Just being in your presence makes everything feel a little bit better. You’re like the sunshine after a rainy day, your glow bathing his skin in warmth as you reach for his hand. You clasp it in your own, your thumb tracing over the hollow of his wrist.

“I shouldn’t have walked out like that.” He says finally, his gaze focusing on something across the street. “I didn’t know I was going, I didn’t know…”

He trails off, his voice choked because this is the nature of his life, the reality of it. It’s unpredictable, exhausting, brutal. There’s an ache in his chest and his eyes sting because he’s just so fucking tired. All of the emotions he’s struggled to keep a lid on over the past few weeks come rushing to the surface and for a second he’s overwhelmed.

“Nik…” You say softly.  He tilts his head towards you and you can see the anguish in his eyes, the fatigue. He’s never looked as wrecked as he does in this moment. Whatever happened overseas has taken its toll on him.

 “You were right.” He says quietly. “About always being the one to compromise. It isn’t fair.”

“I knew what I was getting into.” You tell him, your thumb tracing over the curve of his cheek. He closes his eyes at the sensation, savouring it. There had been a moment in Iran where he didn’t think he was coming back and all he could think about was you, how the last words he had said to you were in frustration and anger. “You’re worth it.”

“I don’t know how long I can keep doing this Alana.” He tells you, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “This job, it’s killing me.”

“Why don’t we go inside and talk about it?” You say and he nods his head, unable to speak as that emotion overwhelms him once more. Your fingertips chasing over the line of his jaw as you whisper against his lips. “I’m going to take care of you Nik, I promise.”

Love Nik? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[tafadhali]

Most Listened 2024

Spotify Unwrapped may capture which songs I literally listened to the most this year, but my annual Most Listened playlist captures more the ~*~vibe~*~. It's the songs I discovered or rediscovered this year that I just kept coming back to — here's my abridged version of that list:

Thrash Unreal // Against Me (2007) - Against Me is one of my perennial most-listened-to bands and so each year I'm cycling through a new favorite to have on repeat. This song — in addition to having a pounding beat that makes you want to scream along to it — is the only Against Me song my local karaoke bar has in its catalog so I've played it on repeat on many a long car ride.

Wax & Wane // Alana Henderson (2013) - This was definitely a Spotify suggestion that I immediately latched on to. Love the cello and love its lyrical dexterity. It kind of reminds me of my favorite filk? (In a good way!)

Hands Clean // Alanis Morissette (2002) - I've been getting more into Alanis over the past few years and, as is clear from this list, I 👏 love 👏 a bitter 👏 breakup 👏 song

Happier Than Ever // Billie Eilish (2021) - I LOVE A BITTER BREAKUP SONG. But also this is one of @periru3's go to karaoke songs and after hearing them absolutely fucking kill it week after week, I needed to listen to the real deal. Still think the best way to hear this song is in a crowded bar with Tessa singing but that build!! Something about the simplicity of a line like "'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything / And all that you did was make me fuckin' sad" really gut punches me.

Pink Pony Club // Chappell Roan (2024) - Finally actually listened to this like a week ago and it is an earworm! I should listen to literally everyone in my life and listen to more Chappell Roan.

No Smoke Without Fire // James Hunter (2006) - This is my favorite track from an album I listened to for my music recommendation algorithm job in 2006, and I've gotten back into it in a big way since P3 vidded it for last Festivids. He has a great retro sound.

I Hung My Head // Johnny Cash (2002) - The best thing about Johnny Cash's American Recordings is there are so many of them and I can (re)discover a new track every year or two that will completely take over my brain. My favorite country songs are full of doom and meaningless violence, and these lyrics are a master class of using passive language to avoid blame while still being overwhelmed by guilt: "My brother's rifle / Went off in my hand." Had no idea this was written by Sting until just now, lol.

Not Like Us // Kendrick Lamar (2024) - I am not immune to the zeitgeist.

Divorce Song // Liz Phair (1991) - This came on in the background and I was listening casually until the combination of deadpan and just absolutely crushing lyrics took the air out of my lungs: And the license said you had to stick around / Until I was dead / But if you're tired of looking at my face / I guess I already am."

Strawberry Blond // Mitski (2013) - This song is totally lovely but also I'm weirdly obsessed with the phrase "strawberry blond" so I was very susceptible.

Amy aka Spent Gladiator // The Mountain Goats (2012) - Listened to a ton of Mountain Goats this year, as always, but this is the one I vidded!

bad idea right? // Olivia Rodrigo (2023) - This is NOT the one I vidded but it is the song that made me realize my love of "brutal" might not be a fluke, but that I might actually just enjoy Olivia Rodrigo — as long as she's in upbeat, bratty mode. The music video for this really hooked me with its '90s vibes and attitude.

Voice in My Throat // Pearl and the Beard (2009) - Heard this one on Ame's character playlist for the Worlds Beyond Number podcast and loved the harmonies.

The Ballad of Lucy Gray Baird // Rachel Zegler (2023) - This one literally did make my Spotify playlist. I feel like I may have listened to this more than anyone alive, but — as you know — I love a bitter breakup song AND I love a dark folk ballad. I also rewatched and reread all of Hunger Games this year, which helped keep the soundtrack in rotation.

Buy You a New Attitude // Tianna Esperanza (2023) - Never going to stop discovering music through NPR, lol. The whole album is good but I love the jazzy sound and swagger of this track.

[koznerstripes]

John: So why are you here? Bumblebee: Because I'm under arrest. John: For your attraction? Bumblebee: I'm not sure Croft writes that along with desertion, murder, espionage, and treason.

*

The relationship between humans and Transformers:

Seaspray: I love you. Alana: I love you, too.

Optimus: I love you. Fowler: Thank you?

Mirage: I love you! Noah: I know.

John: I love you! Bumblebee:. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO!?

*

Alex: I think someone's in love. John: I'm not in love with Bumblebee, I'm a fan! Alex:… I didn't say who exactly… John:… John: Shit!

*

John points to Bumblebee's lap. John: can I sit down? Bumblebee: what… why would you sit on me? John: I'm still waiting for my "yes."

*

Croft: Mandroid, my heart hurts, could you take a look at me? Mandroid: wow, for how long? Croft: maybe two days…. Mandroid: No! I'm talking about the heart! Do you really have one!?

John: how are you? Croft: it's just a fracture, I look like a wreck!!!? Mandroid enters. Agent Croft falls on top of John. Croft: What a pain!!! I think I'm dying!

*

Bumblebee: Optimus, you already know John. We're dating. Optimus: Primus Beard, wasn't there a better option? Bumblebee: Sir! Optimus: Shut up, Bumblebee, I'm trying to talk some sense into the poor guy!

*

John: Should I ask Optimus for his blessing? Bumblebee: Why would you want the blessing of my first love? John:… Doesn't he look like your father? Bumblebee: In that case, he owes Ratchet child support.

*

Croft: This job turned into a kindergarten a long time ago....John: how long ago?Croft: How long have you been working here?

*

Mandroid: may I ask for your hand in marriage? Megatron: NO!!! NO NO NO NO NO! Definitely no! Untie me, you sick bastard!!!

*

Croft: Can you help me? Mandroid: We're literally committing racist gynacide, but go ahead.

*

Croft: Are you willing to sacrifice your life for my brother? Bumblebee: Of course! Croft: Great, meet me outside in five minutes.

*

John: Do you have any cute nicknames? Mandroid: no. John: hmm. what does honey taste like? Mandroid: sweet? John:… John punches Mandroid in the knee. Mandroid: bitch! Croft: what do you want, scumbag?

*

Optimus: I'm always here so you can talk about your feelings. John:… No, thanks. Bumblebee: I want to talk! Optimus: I know bee. Bumblebee: Am I lonely? Optimus: I know you are, Bee.

I just thought those Kozner drafts were funny. He gave me permission to post this.

[female-buckets]

I got an ask about post season awards and DPOYs

Bestie if you see this, I agree with you. But I'm not publishing the ask because I'm dodging the drama and controversy. Some people just can't handle that particular topic! But you're right and I completely agree with what you said!!!

In general, DPOY injustice in the WNBA is becoming more and more common. The award used to regularly go to lock down perimeter athletes like Tamika Catchings and Alana Beard. But it hasn't gone to an athletic 1v1 defender in years!!! And some people have been robbed along the way. Alysha Clark was robbed in 2020. And Alyssa Thomas was robbed multiple times. If your name is Aly, they're gonna keep that DPOY from you! Alyphobic

[stranded-labyrinth]

Alana: no babe you're still fine just the way you stroked my face in your sleep because you were dreaming about a scruffy beard caught me off guard that's all

[therunwayarchive]

Alana Felisberto for Veronica Beard, Pre-Fall 2022

[sc0tters]

omg amber your effort on today’s daily thought was insane tysm!! IF you’ve got the energy for it, i’d love to know the opposite—what part of the boys do our girls love most?

Oooo this one sounds like fun! We are currently meant to have an off day but I’m off to bed and it’s past midnight so technically I’m back to writing…

Jamie loves Gabe’s hair! Like getting to run her fingers through it makes her so happy

Sydney is in awe of Matts height and the size of him in general. Like his hands make her look like a baby and then the fact that he can just throw her over his shoulder will always make her squirm

Gracie loves Elias’ hands because he is always touching her. Most of the time it’s not even weird, he’s usually tracing shapes the inside of her thigh or will just leave his hand resting there to occasionally give it a squeeze incase they have been listening to a long conversation where he hasn’t been able to talk to her.

Victoria loves the freckles Phil gets in the summer cause she can just sit on his lap and kiss his skin as she counts them. But she also really likes how pretty his hand looks now that it has his promise ring on his ring finger.

Rouge used to think it was his hair but now it has to be his lips. Whenever they’re alone he’s constantly kissing her skin making her squirm, but a close second is his thighs because if she’s been overly bratty that night he will not hesitate to put her over it and make her push herself to come with no help from him.

Buzz loves Jamie’s eyes and Cams smile, like those are her boys and she only ever wants to see them happy.

Blair’s has to be his skin. Some nights all she wants is him on her and when she gets to see the tattoos he’s gotten because of her it makes her get all gushy

Maya loves how Johns curls have become Auggies curls too.

Camille loves Sidney’s hands. Everytime she was sore in a pregnancy he was massaging her body whenever she needed it.

Charlotte is stuck between two, she loves his arms because he gives her the best hugs but she also selfishly loves his chest because there is something about it that gets her going. She hasn’t told Jake but she’d love to try riding it one day.

Amelia is IN LOVE with Masons eyes, like Caleb got them so she will forever adore that

Maddie likes Mats arms because when he gets clingy and doesn’t want her to leave he’s always trying to trap her under his body.

Ellie loves Ethan and Marks hands, like she wants them on her 24/7.

Emma loves Jacobs body, his build is so much bigger than hers so sometimes he is just her big baby

Adelia loves Jeremy’s face, like this man could pull any expression and have her in his arms within seconds. That sex strike was hard!

Thea loves Oliver’s hair, like whenever he hugs her it tickles her skin.

Tate loves Jimmys hands, hello she wants them on her all the time.

Astrid loves Ethan’s mouth, that man is talented and he knows it.

Lillian loves Cutter thighs, like usually he’s pulling her into his lap to sit because he doesn’t want her anywhere else that isn’t close to him.

Junior loves Wills hair! Like all she wants is to tug her fingers through that mess

Fran loves Nicks eyes because she hopes her kids will get them.

Darcy loves Cole’s height, he’s her short king and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Alana LOVES Jurajs height! Like that man towers over her and she loves it

Codie loves how Ryan’s hair falls in his face and cuts him off when he’s talking

Kennedy loves Jacks eyes because she feels like they can stare into her soul and on top of that her baby got them too.

Allie loves Luke’s curls, after a rough day his head is in her lap getting head scratches because he wants to feel better.

Lucie loves Steve’s hand. When he got sick she would always try to talk to him with her hand on his trying to get a response so now as he has his hand constantly either on her or her thigh she knows he’s okay now.

Matilda loves Willys beard, it tickles when he talks to her

Lilah loves Matthews hair, she always ends up with it in her face when they’re sleeping in the couch but she wouldn’t have it another way.

Sabrina loves Adams smile, to her it’s so contagious

Parker loves Cole’s fingers and how skilled he is with them.

Scottie loves Nicks hands, when they are finally good with each other he wants to constantly hold her to make up for the time they lost.

Marisa LOVES Gavin’s hair, she thinks he’s adorable but that might be her favourite part.

Emmy loves Rutgers smile, like he’s always her happy boy

Abigail loves Marks hair, she is a sucker for tugging at it

Liana loves Seamus’ smile. She thinks it can light up a room sometimes.

Ava loves Ryan’s hands, this man won’t hesitate to pull her close to him if she’s being bratty

Bailey loved Wills eyes, after all Max got them

Erin loves Drew’s face, like she just loves smothering him in kisses.

Bianca loves Nicos smile, she thinks it reminds her of how kind the captain is and for that he deserves all the love in the world

Julie loved Timos hands, he’s her big strong man and feels the need to tell him all the time.

Mila loves Jacks thighs, he knows how to make her feel good with them when he’s trying to seem stronger than her.

Isabel loves how Luke towers over her so as he hugs her he has to basically crunch himself to get to her.

[crmsnmth]

September Sky Chapter Seven, Part 2

"Yeah. If someone dies in the night, someone has to go and pick the body up and bring it back."

"Makes sense. "

"I couldn't figure it out the first time she said it either."

An old man with white hair and more of it in his nose and ears then on the top, slowly walked by with a cane. He was wearing a wool sweater. And he just kept a friendly smile on his face as he headed for the door. Fuel was a melting pot. At any given moment there was at least a couple older folks playing chess as the drank strong muddy black coffee. A handful of college students would be in, studying, their cups of bean juice forgotten. And there was a few people like me. The outcasts of the misfits. We sat alone, sipping our caffeine and just watching the world pass.

"How's things been going with Amy?" I asked. Even with Chad, I preferred to keep my personal life private. Of course, he knew everything anyway just by being around me. The guy could feel what I was going to feel. He was that good.

"Alright. Nothing serious yet. She does stay at my place now more than her own though." I'd never spent much time around Amy. She came around right as I was packing my bags. I really knew very little about her.

"That's good, I think?"

"Yeah, it is. I think we're pretty much together. Just no labels." Chad took a sip from his coffee.

"Why not? Not that it matters. Is there some reason you guys aren't labeling it anything? It's been long enough, I'd assume. And if you're always together anyway what's the big deal?"

"I'm not really sure. Any time it gets brought up, she says she just wants to have fun." A guy on a bike flew past us.

"Ok, I mean I guess I can kind of get that." I lied through my teeth. "I mean as long as you guys are cool with that."

Chad shrugged. His beard had gotten longer since the last time I saw him. He looked older. Tougher, even. Chad already had a large build. The beard made him look like a human boulder. He looked around, taking in sights that weren't normally his to see.

"I don't know if I am, man." He finally said, his attention stuck on a group of hipsters walking the opposite sidewalk. A look of annoyance. Hipsters were the enemy. In all reality, we were the worst hipsters of all.

"What do you mean?"

"I think I love her." I can't say I was expecting those words to come out of Chad's mouth. Sure, he'd been in plenty of relationships, and I'm sure he's said those three words to his fair share, but Chad was quiet about these kind of emotions. I didn't know if it made him uncomfortable or if he just was the type to not share.

"For real?" I asked, trying to hide the surprise in my voice. We'd been friends for years, and this was one of the very few things I'd never really heard him talk much about. I mean, we'd talked about relationships plenty of times, but he'd never really mentioned love much before. I had plenty of times. Can you believe I used to fall in super fast?

"Yeah, I think so. I'm not sure what else it could be. I really think I love her." It was still strange to hear those words come out of his mouth.

"Did you tell her yet?" I asked.

"No. Not yet. I'm going to have to, huh?" There was a sad look on his face.

"I mean, yeah, eventually. You can't just skip that part."

"I fucking hate this part."

"Understandable."

Chad sighed and took another sip. I lit a cigarette, unsure of what to say. In all the time we'd been friends, there were very few awkward silences, but sitting outside of that coffee shop was probably the most awkward.

"What time are we meeting Alana?" I asked.

[once-in-a-blue-moon-rising]

So, I'm really enjoying my Hannibal obsession, but a big downside is that it makes it really hard to sleep. Tonight, I couldn't stop shaking, so instead of disturbing my partner, I got up and wrote down the story in my head.

Warnings: violence, mentions of death/murder, nudity, implied sex, extremely inappropriate psychiatrist-patient relationships

(PS. I am only on episode 2.1, so no spoilers past that point please and thank you)

They were close. Close enough for Hannibal to taste the trepidation on Will’s skin, to see the flutter of his pulse in his throat. To watch as he leaned even closer, head tilting to the side.

Their foreheads touched.

‘I’m not Alana Bloom, Will’, Hannibal said. His palm was resting on Will’s cheek, the hairs from Will’s beard prickling his skin.

‘I know who you are’, Will replied. He didn’t try to move closer, nor did he pull back.

‘And do you know who you are?’

‘Yes.’

A hair’s breadth closer, lips slightly parted. The tip of Will’s nose rested warm and soft against Hannibal’s cheek. He could smell him – his skin, his toothpaste, his excitement, shot through with fear. Hannibal swallowed, and chose his next words carefully.

‘Then why?’

‘Why?’ Will asked. One of his hands moved to cup Hannibal’s cheek too, and where he’d expected a tremor, there was steadiness. He listened to Will take a breath. ‘Why do I want to kissyou, if I don’t think you’re Dr Bloom?’

‘Yes.’

‘Because you’re very kissable.’

Hannibal drew back, a little flicker of annoyance sparking at the edge of his subconscious. He resented the conflation, even though he had invited it.

‘Don’t lie to me, Will’, he said, and when he tried to pull his head back further, Will’s fingers tightened, getting a grip on the hair at the base of his skull. ‘And don’t insult me.’

Another tightening of those fingers and Hannibal, intrigued, let himself be caught. He let Will rest their foreheads back together, slot their noses into place; let his mouth hover, millimetres away from Will’s. He could feel his beard again – this time not only in his palm, but against his lips.

Will was silent for so long that anyone with less knowledge of Will’s psychology might have thought the question ignored, forgotten. The room around them billowed silence, and Hannibal focused on the rhythm of Will’s breathing, and the ticking of his own watch.

‘It’s the only thing I can think to do’, Will said, eventually, and the desperation in his voice was so affecting that Hannibal allowed him a momentary lapse of control, let Will capture his top lip between his own. ‘The only possible way I can –’

‘Possess me? Consume me?’

Another moment, another taste – teeth and tongues and discordant, beautiful chaos, the tang of blood on his lips.

‘My psychiatrist believes I’m obsessed with you’, Hannibal said, drawing back, this time resisting Will’s efforts to keep him close. Will was breathing hard, and the fear which had coloured his scent before had vanished. His mouth was red, and his tongue darted out to taste the blood on his lower lip.

‘What does my psychiatrist think?’

‘I think you’re fascinated by me, certainly. You’re attracted to me despite knowing that you shouldn’t be. Some might say that constituted obsession.’

Will climbed fully into Hannibal’s chair now, crowding him, made bold by the previous successful experiments. And Hannibal had no reason to deny him, not when he could sink his teeth into him, taste him without extinguishing him. He could feel Will’s blood pounding, put his fingers up against the hollow of his throat and his tongue on his collarbone, and feel him arch and whine, just barely, the first flicker of a plead.

‘Tell me what you want’, he heard himself say. If Will had wanted to devour him piece by living piece, he would have agreed, lain unprotesting on his own examining couch, watching those two hands stain red.

Will was dazed, but he heard, processing the words as Hannibal bit down on the lobe of his ear.

‘I want you to show me’, he said. ‘How you’d do it.’

‘How I’d kill you?’

Will clambered off the chair and, panting, offered his hand. Hannibal took it, and stood.

‘You’re not the only one who gets curious’, Will murmured.

His eyes were bright and his hands were steady, unknotting Hannibal’s tie, assaulting the buttons on his waistcoat. He was being aggressive, but not enough to damage the garments. A familiar flare of excitement, tinged with something rarer, flashed through him. He pressed a hand against his trouser pocket, feeling for a handle.

‘You’re an interesting prospect’, Hannibal told him, backing him slowly towards the back wall of the office. Will’s hands stilled. ‘I don’t need to work to get close to you. That makes things considerably easier.’

Will’s back hit the wall, and Hannibal, heart thundering now, advanced until they were almost pressed together.

‘Strangulation is a particularly effective way of rendering a person unconscious’, he said, his left hand moving to press against Will’s windpipe – not hard enough, not really, but enough to make him gasp, to make a fresh flicker of fear kindle in his eyes.

‘And what about –’

‘I’ve already disarmed you’, Hannibal said, the gun from Will’s holster already in his hand, now dropped and kicked out of harm’s way. ‘You, unfortunately, cannot say the same.’

A flash of silver and Will’s right hand was pinned to the wall by the cuff of his shirtsleeve and the knife. Hannibal had his left securely contained in his own right hand, and he increased the pressure on Will’s throat, just a fraction. Will groaned, and that same thrill flared.

‘I assume in reality’, Will said, struggling to speak. ‘In reality that knife goes through my palm.’

‘Naturally.’

‘And then?’

Hannibal released him.

‘You pass out. I carry you downstairs and take you home.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t keep good knives at the office.’

Will smiled weakly, and Hannibal let him reorient himself, stowed the folding knife back in his pocket, and straightened his waistcoat as best he could. The tie, it seemed, had been discarded over the back of the chair, and he was curious enough as to where this was going not to fetch it immediately.

‘Do you want to know the rest?’

Will nodded.

‘I’ll spare you the journey, but you wake up, undressed, tethered to my worktop.’

He watched Will finger the bottom edge of his shirt and, understanding without needing to be asked, took two steps back into his space and undid every button, eyes locked on Will’s, not moving his gaze to push both shirt and jacket to the floor, nor to turn his hands to the buttons of his trousers.

‘Hannibal, I –’

‘I know.’

He hoisted Will, completely nude, into his arms, and laid him out on his couch. He could see the rhythm of his heart faintly against his ribs, saw him shiver even as his skin flushed and eyes darkened.

He ran a single finger from throat to sternum, to navel, finally allowing himself to look, to feast upon Will Graham, to contemplate him as the work of art he should, rightfully, have become shortly after they met. He was far too alluring, far too dangerous, and now, far too beautiful. Hannibal swallowed.

‘I never settled on a final decision’, he said, allowing Will a moment of eye contact. ‘Perhaps that’s why you’re still alive.’

‘No it’s not.’

Hannibal smiled quietly, turning his gaze back to Will’s flesh.

‘Perhaps not. Dismemberment always appealed, although I’d have needed to take you somewhere more isolated for that. The neighbours, you know.’

Heartrate increasing again, he took one of Will’s hands in his own, and ran his lips and nose up from wrist to shoulder, following the veins.

‘Open heart surgery would have posed similar problems’, he said, and now he pressed his cheek to Will’s chest, kneeling beside the couch, Will’s fingers curling into his hair. ‘But I think my favourite option – the most poetic – was drowning.’

Will laughed – or rather, he huffed out a breath of air that Hannibal felt against his scalp, and he watched his stomach rise and fall with it.

‘Don’t tell me’, he said, and Hannibal shifted his head so that he could look into Will’s face as he formulated his assumption. ‘The blood of all my supposed victims?’

Hannibal blinked. Then, slowly, he climbed onto the couch, pinning Will in place, letting the feeling of an impending kill vibrate through him, even as the only resistance Will offered was to arch into his body and stare, defiant.

‘No’, he said. ‘Mine.’