#blame the heat i guess

[isaacathom]

ds9 time, s2e12

well alright odo whatever tickles your fancy sir

quarks genuinely taken aback that odo seems to be seriously about a purchase.

who the fuck is mora. should i know this man

yeah id be kind of annoyed if someone came up to me, unannounced, and started critiquing my shapeshifting

i dont like dr mora

i do like that odos like 'id like a runabout' and sisko immediately goes 'yeah sure. what for'. just completely confident. has basically no reason to deny that request of any of his major crew members unless context suggests a problem (i think kiras run against that a handful of times).

dr mora is acting like a dad trying to provoke a child to speak and odo is just like. for fucks sake man. fine. yeesh

my question to mora is when he says 'work with you', does he mean working with odo as a peer, or with in the sense that you work with computers, with a field of study?

thats a familiar looking set, i love the soundstage lads. oh a beautiful background, that one, Stunning.

i love that their standin for 'odo juice' is clearly just some iron filings with a magnet being spun around it. excellent shit.

okay im attempting to recalibrate if i should give a shit about mora based on how odo reacts and because odo is shit at expressing his emotions (mood, sir) and im still struggling to figure that one out.

'he hid my clothes so i wouldnt leave' bashir buddy cmon

oh that man might be dead

"if you run into my wife don't mention i did this" obrien i love you

ugh thats so goopy

"my replicator or yours" i find that such a cute phrase. and again, the evidence persists that dax is probably the only person who enjoys julians company other than garrick lmao, if she wanted to invite it out for drinks.

okay julian my guy what does THAT mean. i thought we'd stopped being cringe heterosexual. oh thank god for drama.

"its a nickname i barely tolerate" "its an expression of affection" dr mora sir those are not mutually exclusive. my friends have expressed their affection for me by pre-emptively censoring their horniness in such a way that makes me feel like a piece of shit buzzkill despite having done nothing - affection need not be accepted at the end point. eat shit. anyway uh

i hate dr mora

dax's vibe in this scene with mora where moras all 'ah, never thought hed grow up' and whatever its very :) please stop.

you know what it is? you know what it is. its that he keeps infantilising odo, and a lot of the traits hes picking out as things odo is/was "deficient" in are like. you know. Autistic traits. is that anything. i feel like thats where im rankling

ah okay so the twist is Odo's doing this shit subconsciously

mora pol is such a cunt. i hate this guy

"what humanoid have you been able to trust except me?" "WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I TRUST YOU?" "I resent that" good! fuck off cunt!

he sucks so much. feeling hes owed odo's trust because of his effort, fuck you. odos having a breakdown and hes just charging forward with his self-centering. absolute state. oh is the twist going to be that he's causing this to try and coerce odo back into his lab?

oop hes melting oop oop oop

"its separate and independent from the odo we know" are you sure about that. are you confident. are you positively convinced. because im not. im not convinced.

if this episode is going to try and convince me mora has had any change of heart, its not gonna work, i tell you what. i honestly hope its kira that manages to get him to back down since we've established she is probably the person he trusts most on the station. just to prove mora wrong about his lack of trust in others. i want them to prove it, yknow.

oh great it is trying to convince me. "ive done it again havent i? made you a prisoner" YES. YOU SHITSTAIN. YOU WANKROD.

bleugh.

its annoying because i think its a good episode. there's good drama, you learn a lot about odo and where he's been, its good. there's good dynamics with the cast. i just dislike mora pol to such an extent that it makes it hard to buy into that specific axis of the drama, and its the primary one. thats the one im meant to care about. and i cant. because he appears and everything says no, nonono, this man is no good father. and it wasnt like he was even doing bad shit at the start, i just caught a vibe and went euuuugh.

[ame-to-ame]

extremely self indulgent btr doodles <3

once again drawing the band members mostly from memory;;

[pointycorgiears]

I had plans this week to finish the next chapter of my dragodile fic, but that has been put on hold due to KITTEN!

The neighborhood kids brought her to me (they always see me outside with my other cats) and basically said "Here you go! We can't have it! Mom's allergic. Bye!"

And now I have a kitten. :/

[lockandkeyhyena]

Been trying to word this another way for a while I sent a prev ask so if you’ve already figured it out I’m sooo sorryyy

Trans men experience transphobia unique to trans men but do not experience trans misandry because cis misandry isn't real ❌

So trans woman experience transphobia unique to trans woman and do experience transmisogyny be cis misogyny is real ✅

my take is basically yes trans men obviously experience a unique form of oppression because of their intersection of identities and having a word for that would be useful BUT maybe something that refers it back to misogyny which is ultimately the root cause.

but transmisogyny is already taken so like. idk. transmisogyny 2 electric boogaloo but with boys this time??? idk. just not a name that implies systematic misandry exists lol

[sleepybirbies]

smouse

[highlifeboat]

canadian anon and not re8 related but im so relieved that someone else is also anxious about the fires rn, because all im seeing on news/social media is that some dipsticks actually believe the wildfires were a set up by treadau as a fear mongering tactic to get climate change tax money im actually so tired mentally and physically from people who dont believe in climate change. I hope youre okay, i am but the smoke is rolling in now. i really dont know how to cope and continue normally worrying about everything thats going to come. its not even peak summer yet.

That's... the dumbest shit I've ever heard? Why are people so fucking dead set on acting like climate change isn't a real thing? As if the world isn't a living thing that adapts and is affected by what people do to it. Like fuck y'all, believe it or not the government is not always out to get you with some huge conspiracy, sometimes shit just fucking happens. (Also I'm pretty sure climate change is a proven thing?? Then again so is the Earth being round but there are people who don't believe that either..)

Anyway, I hope you're at least safe (or as safe as you can be). I just woke up and it looks less hazy out right now, sky is still grey, though. There's also still an active fire like an hour and a half up my road. Which is so fun to think about /s. (It is under control at the moment. But y'know. Shit can change so fast and it is not small)

Personally, I don't know what to do. Everyone is just kind of going about like life is normal, y'know? Which feels... kinda wrong? But also what else can you do? It's not like we can all go rushing in with hoses and put out the fires ourselves, even if we want to. I dunno. It's just a lot. It's very surreal.

Like... there's going to be lasting affects/consequences from this. And we just kinda have to deal with that. And, I'll be honest, I don't know how we just go about life right now. All you can do is wake up, go through the day, and go to bed. If you have hobbies, or interests, or something that makes you happy that'll take your mind off it for a bit, absolutely do that thing. Which is easier said than done, I know.

I hope you stay safe, consider wearing a mask outside with all the smoke in the air. Do something that makes you happy. Drink water. Ect.

[tombsforteeth]

The house smelt so good when I got home from work at 1:20am, all night I’ve been so looking forward to eating some of the dinner I prepped before my shift.

My horror when I lifted the pan lid to discover the contents of the pot horribly burnt 😭

[shabbyshoebox]

I messed up, y'all 🔆😭

I went to the beach this weekend (applied sunscreen before I went) with friends. I stayed at the beach (went in water) all day (sweat a ton) and chilled with my friends (all day in the sun). I did not reapply sunscreen (I am pale) and thought I would be fine (I applied sunscreen before I left) and thought I would maybe have only a little redness (very very pale) because I had sunscreen on (went in the ocean and sweat a ton). Friends reapplied sunscreen (it was hot and we went in the ocean) and I (pale as hell) did not (I applied some before I left). After being in the ocean (where water washes things off) I stood to dry in the sun (hot and sweaty) and talked with my friends (pale back facing toward the sun) for a long time (~45 min).

Imagine my surprise when (sunscreen washed off) my back (that faced the sun for at least 45 minutes) looks like this:

[flwrstqr]

୨୧ : ENHYPEN WHEN THEY LET YOU TIE A BOW AROUND THEM ╰——𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖼, 𝗂 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 '𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗂𝗍

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶���𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf!enhypen x f!r 17OOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, lots of kissing ｡｡ ⠀fluff, one shot ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞

 DANi : thank you @tzyunaes for the fic idea (> <)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 "what’s this for, baby?" heeseung grins, watching you carefully tie a bow around his wrist, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. “you’re so cute when you concentrate like this,” he teases, earning an amused roll of your eyes. “it’s a trend,” you explain, tugging the ribbon snug and admiring your work. he tilts his head, eyes softening as he studies your face. “so… do i get a kiss now? or is this just a no-kiss accessory?” he pouts dramatically, already leaning closer. you laugh, cupping his face. “you’re so annoying,” you mumble before pressing your lips to his. he hums against your mouth, his hand slipping up to cradle the back of your neck. “i think i need another one,” he murmurs when you pull away, “for, you know, emotional support.” you kiss him again, giggling as he grins like he’s won the lottery.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 you’re really making me wear this, huh?" jay chuckles, holding his hand out obediently as you tie the pink bow around his wrist. "it’s cute," you insist, pouting slightly when he teases you. his lips twitch into a soft smile. "if it makes my princess happy, i’ll wear ten of these," he says. you finish tying the ribbon, looking up at him with that bright smile he loves and adores. “there,” you say proudly, and he immediately melts. “do i get a reward now?” he asks, pulling you closer by the waist. “like what?” you ask, playing coy, but he’s already leaning in. “a kiss, obviously.” his lips brush against yours, and when you pull back, his smile is smug. “looks good, right?” he gestures to the bow. “maybe i should wear one all the time if it gets me more kisses from you.”

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 "baby, hold still!" you whine, struggling to tie the pink bow around jake’s bicep as he squirms, his lips pouted. "why do i need a bow, huh? am i your present?" he teases, flexing his arm playfully, and you roll your eyes, smacking his chest lightly. "yes, now stop moving or i’m returning you to the store," you grumble, biting back a laugh. he leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "you wouldn’t dare, angel. i’m your favorite," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jawline "jake!" you huff, finally securing the bow, and he grins, pulling you into his lap in one smooth motion. "does it suit me?" he asks, before peppering kisses along your neck. "you look ridiculous," you giggle, but he smirks, his lips ghosting over yours. "ridiculously handsome, right?" god, he’s impossible.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 "you’re seriously tying a pink bow on my arm?" sunghoon asks, raising an eyebrow as he watches you struggle to keep his arm steady. "yes, now stop flexing, hoon!" you whine, tugging his arm back into place. he smirks, leaning back lazily. "feels like an excuse to touch me, babe," he teases. you glare at him, cheeks heating. "you’re so full of yourself, i swear," you grumble, but he only chuckles, his free hand sneaking around your waist to pull you closer. "can’t blame you, though. i am irresistible," he says, and you roll your eyes, finishing the bow with a frustrated huff. "there, done. now you look cute," you say, crossing your arms. sunghoon kisses your temple. "cute, huh? guess you do like having excuses to be near me," he murmurs.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 "sunoo," you giggle, holding up the pink satin ribbon, "let me tie this on you, pleaseee?" he grins, already extending his wrist, knowing exactly where this is going. "you and your trends," he teases. you carefully wrap the ribbon around his wrist, tying it into a perfect bow, and he watches you with the softest smile, eyes sparkling. "done!" you chirp, but before he can pull away, you’re already reaching for your lipstick. "what now?" he asks, amused but not stopping you. "just one more thing," you hum, pressing a soft kiss to the spot next to the bow, leaving a faint pink stain behind. "there, perfect." sunoo laughs, "perfect? that’s me when i’m with you, angel."

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 "hold still, won," you mumble, focused as you carefully tie the pink satin bow around his wrist. jungwon doesn’t say a word, his eyes fixed on you the entire time, like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at. you glance up at him. "stop staring," you pout, tightening the bow. still, he doesn’t reply, just smiling faintly. when you finish, you pull back to admire your work. "there, all done!" you beam, but before you can say anything else, he leans in closer. "did you know you’re really pretty?" he whispers, ignoring the bow entirely. you barely manage to giggle a soft, "stop it," before he cups your face, pressing sweet kisses to your lips, your cheeks, and your forehead. "i mean it, baby," he murmurs, "so, so pretty."

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 "you’re so dramatic," you huff, trying to wrap the pink ribbon around riki’s bicep while he flexes just to make it harder for you. "stop that!" you whine, and he laughs. "can’t help it, angel, gotta show off for you," he grins, winking. you roll your eyes but can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. "hold still, or i’m breaking up with you," you threaten, but he knows you won’t. "okay, okay," he relents, letting you tie the bow, though he’s still smirking. when you’re done, you lean back, admiring your work. "see? looks cute," you declare. "cute?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "baby, i make it look good." you swat his arm, laughing, but before you can retort, he leans in, cupping your face and pressing kisses to your lips. "you’re the cute one," he murmurs against your lips, "but keep going. i like being your accessory."

[araneitela]

How do they greet someone they dislike/hate? How do they greet someone they like/love? — @etherealguard // Meme: Character building questions

To say wildly differently still feels inherently lackluster, but it's a good start. Alright, let me touch on the first of the two. So to preface this, to me, Kafka does not come across in any capacity, as someone who would care to harbor the energy required to fuel a semblance of hatred towards anyone. More so than anything (and I think this is the much worse option of the two), throughout the game as we've been shown so far, I would argue that she displays a semblance of indifference and worse still, she presents herself with a sense of contempt towards many of them. Now, I have to note, this is not representative of a well-formed opinion of any individual or their character following any time spent with them, it is very much a 'default' mindset of sorts that has always dictated her view of people. You can take her by surprise and impress her during a first encounter, but those chances are slim, and if you miss said feat, we know that obtaining a second chance is even slimmer. She simply doesn't engage with most people long-term, which is inherently tied to this notion of 'boredom'. It is, honestly, as Blade said in her SQ after all: "I've yet to see anyone follow her for as long as you did... and live to tell the tale." She simply... grows bored. So how does all of this manifest in terms of greeting? There would be no actual ignorance — although she might attempt it towards someone a little too peppy, like for instance March 7th (I'm sorry, March) — but there would be a very strong air of nonchalance. An 'oh, it's you' in an obviously irritated tone would be perfectly in-character, but hey see it this way, at least it's indicative that she remembers you, right? That's already a bit of a compliment, I'd say.

As for someone that she genuinely likes (love is a big word, more on that a different day or if [/when] that comes about), there are two to three options. Look at Silver Wolf (and Elio, but he stands entirely on his own with this), someone that she's come to appreciate, she is a perfect example of someone who engages her mind just enough to keep her interest, but it also helps that I don't believe that SW and her are constantly around one another. It's the concept of 'absence makes the heart grow fonder', or rather— when you're consistently around someone else, you get used to them, and inevitably learn enough to a point where they become part of your 'routine' and they fall into this notion of normality. That equals boredom, for someone with the nature of Kafka. But, you can tell they're not quite there any way, there's even a hint of (in my opinion) that trademark 'disinterest' tone of Kafka's present in this conversation. But I digress, that's simply aimed at the topic at hand and it leans into what I said before: not everything has her interest. But look, Silver Wolf re-engages with her and you can tell Kafka regains interest. But anyway, I digress still! I'm terrible, I know.

When it comes to the other, or two, options: you're looking at the Trailblazer and Blade respectively. With the Trailblazer, especially since Kafka's SQ, she is not reactionary, she very much initiates the contact, she's curious and so she engages, but her dynamic with him/her is entirely unique, so do take this with a grain of salt. Regardless of how one chooses to react, Kafka is always the initiator of contact, and if she's turned down, she will attempt to re-engage or will prompt minor pity and/or guilt, for it is just one of many games that she plays (even if the intent behind it is to obtain and hold their attention for as long as she craves it, due to genuine interest). She is playful in her approach, but will still be direct if the situation calls for it.

As for Blade, he is rather equally as unique in the attention that he receives from her (and in the way he receives it), and honestly, since Kafka's SQ, he definitely warrants his own meta post in the future as it's a lot more complicated than meets the eye (in my opinion, any way). But to touch on it slightly, there is an element of warmth in her approach of him due to... I can't say that it is a shared experience, but there's an inherent understanding between the two of them, and there is also, arguably, a dependency from Blade of Kafka (in a meta post coming to a dashboard near you in the future; I could argue vice versa as well but vastly differently so, but this plays into theories for Kafka's 'goal' with the SH) which forces them to share space. And considering neither of them seem to be (Blades, correct me if wrong) ones to actively seek social engagement, this has created an intriguing dynamic. Furthermore, while Blade comments on the Trailblazer's prolonged presence in Kafka's life, he inherently implies with this that he has been there to witness it, he remembers it, this also means he had defies and continues to defy that same reality. As to not continue on an ages long tangent as I plan to do in the above-mentioned planned meta, I'll leave you with this: it is a vastly different warmth than what the Trailblazer receives, but it is also, in my opinion, one much the same. Stay tuned, and I sincerely apologize for the intense ramble!

[ohproserpine]

i. deer dolly

part i | part ii | more | ao3 tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, allusions to murder and such, unsettling & obsessive behavior, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, gorey-ish descriptions of love

"So what?" Angel Dust hummed, drumming his nails on the counter. "You and Alastor are like... friends?"

"Oh, well, that ain't the word I would’ve used, but it's something like that!" Mimzy chirped, reaching for her drink and downing it in one go. "He used to frequent the club I had! In fact, that’s where he met his wife—"

“Wife?!” Angel Dust cut her off, jaw dropping. “Freaky face is married?”

“Oh yeah,” Mimzy hummed, waving her hand around. “Under all that murder and cannibalism, he’s a total sap! Can't blame him, I mean—his wife is a doll! Me an' her used to perform together!”

"An’ how come I never heard of this? People ain't told me shit!" Angel Dust grumbled, turning to Husk behind the counter. "You knew 'bout this, whiskers?"

"Yeah. They were together back in the living. But don't even think of bringing it up in front of Alastor. He gets all heated," Husk grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe down Mimzy’s now-empty glass. The cat then turned to grab another bottle off the shelf, a grimace on his lips. "I would know."

Angel Dust leaned forward, resting his face on his folded hands. "Well, ain't that something. Never knew he even had one of those."

Mimzy cackled, her voice a raspy melody that echoed through the smoky air of the bar as she snatched the bottle of liquor away from Husk’s paws. "Oh, honey, you wouldn’t even know how deep it goes. They go way back."

"Spill," Angel Dust grinned, curiosity getting the better of him. 

Mimzy leaned in, looking both ways to make sure Alastor or his shadows weren't around before lowering her voice. "It was back in the day, at my joint. Alastor dropped by for the bootlegs, you know? But then he caught sight of her. She was singin’ and dancin’ on stage, a real heartbreaker. He couldn't resist the charm, and boom, he was struck on! Ever since then, he came around as frequently as he could. Made me so much money~" 

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, his long lashes fluttering as he squished his cheek against his palm, a coy smirk playing on his lips. "And you were part of this love saga?"

Mimzy shook her head, a wicked glint dancing in her eyes before she lifted the bottle to her lips and downed its contents in one swift motion, her throat working as she swallowed. "Oh, sugar, just a witness to the drama. Those two lovebirds had their own dance going on. I just spiced things up."

Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head. "Never thought smiles had it in him."

"Again. He likes to keep his shit private. So, don't go running your mouth unless you wanna be on the receiving end of one of his… episodes," Husk interrupted, his gruff voice breaking through the conversation as he leaned over the counter and reclaimed the bottle from Mimzy with a low growl.

Angel hummed dismissively, his golden tooth catching the glimmer of the bar lights as he spoke. “Anyone could've guessed that. Where is she, anyways? I haven't seen or heard of her since day one."

"Busy," Mimzy snorted, her finger lazily tracing the rim of her glass. She leaned back in her seat, the dim glow of the bar lights casting shadows across her features. "That's where."

“Really?" Angel's brow lifted in skepticism, his boot lightly kicking against the base of Mimzy's chair. "Busy? That’s it?”

Mimzy shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Can't tell ya much. Y'know Alastor doesn't like sharin'. Secrets and shadows, that's his game."

“Aww c'mon, tits,” Angel grinned, his golden tooth glinting beneath the bar lights with each word. “You gotta know more than you let on. It'll be our secret.”

"Well," Mimzy drawled, savoring the suspense as she tapped a gloved finger against her cheek. "I guess I can tell you a lil’ something about how they met…”

.

Alastor found himself standing in the heart of a secluded corner of town. 

A desolate, dimly lit street stretched out before him, raindrops rhythmically tapping on the worn concrete beneath his feet.

It was something he had never imagined—searching for a speakeasy in this far-off locale. Rarely did he have time for himself. Most of his days were dedicated to caring for his mother, his job as a radio host, and any free time he had was reserved for his… hobbies. But he supposed a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

Adjusting his glasses, he gazed up at the timeworn, ragged sign of a barbershop that read, "Chum’s Clippers." 

Charming. 

With a roll of his eyes, the radio host stepped into the worn-down establishment, visibly grimacing at the shop's decrepit condition. His eyes surveyed the room, settling on a young blonde woman. 

Perched on the edge of the registrar counter, a cigar dangled between her cherry-red lips, the tendrils of smoke curling upwards in lazy spirals. Her legs crossed provocatively, causing the fabric of her dress to ride up her thighs, revealing more skin than what civil society would allow. 

As soon as she caught sight of Alastor's silhouette, a spark of excitement lit up her features, and she greeted him with an animated wave.

"Hey there, mistah! Names Mimzy!" she chirped with a friendly lilt. Her crimson-painted nails plucked the cigarette from her lips, trailing a wisp of smoke as she gestured toward Alastor. "Whatcha here for?"

"Pleasure to meet you," Alastor smiled back and stepped closer, offering her a bow of his head, “Quite a pleasure. You see, I was just strolling through these darling streets, and wouldn't you know it? The whispers in the wind pointed me straight to you, the gal in the know when it comes to bootlegs. Care to confirm?"

‘A potential client?" Mimzy thought, her smirk hidden behind her hand as she took one last puff, the cherry of her cigar glowing brightly before she flicked it into an ashtray. 'Straight to the point.'

"Well, well, mistah," she drawled with a playful twirl of her finger through her blonde curls. "You've got a nose for sniffin' out the good stuff, huh? Well, we might have a few things tucked away for the right kind of folk. But, sugar, we don't just give 'em to anyone.”

Alastor's smile widened as he smoothly fished out his wallet, giving it a theatrical wave. "I do have a penchant for fine libations, my dear. And I assure you, I'm just looking for a little taste of the local flavor, nothing more."

Mimzy's eyes sparkled with mischief as she perked up, eagerly hopping off the counter. The click of her heels echoed against the worn floor as she approached the tall man.

"You're in luck, then! Follow me, and we'll talk business in the back," she said, gesturing toward a concealed door at the back of the barbershop.

Alastor followed her through a narrow passage, which unveiled another door leading to the very speakeasy he’d heard talk of. The atmosphere changed instantly, lively jazz music filled the air, and the dimly lit space was alive with laughter and clinking glasses.

Mimzy guided Alastor to a private booth tucked away in a corner, where a polished bottle of bootleg whiskey awaited their arrival.

"Here's to unexpected encounters, mistah," she beamed, the words dripping with charm as she poured a generous measure into his glass. Alastor raised his glass in acknowledgment, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"To unexpected encounters," he echoed before taking a deep sip.

The whiskey was bitter and strong, yet there was a subtle sweetness that danced on his tongue, leaving behind a tantalizing warmth. It had been increasingly difficult to find such fine brews ever since the prohibition hit, making each sip all the more precious.

Seating himself comfortably, Alastor swirled the glass in his hand, mesmerized by the way the golden liquid caught the flickering candlelight. Beside him, Mimzy continued her lively chatter, her words accompanied by the persistent clinking of ice in their glasses as she refilled his drink, hoping to stack his bill higher with each pour.

As the room hummed with the soft, easy notes of a piano and the clinking of glasses, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as an announcer's voice sliced through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for the enchanting Dolly!"

Mimzy's excitement bubbled up even more, and she leaned in toward Alastor. "That's my sister! Well— not by blood, but you know, me and her are real, real close. One of my best performers here at the bar!"

"Is that so?" Alastor hummed, his eyes now alight with curiosity as he shifted his focus toward the stage.

In that moment, you stepped onto the platform, grabbing a hold of the standing microphone. With a subtle flick of your wrist, you directed attention to the dark-haired pianist, his fingers poised above the keys. A nod from you and the jazz ensemble sprung to life, setting the stage for your performance. As the spotlight enveloped you in a warm glow, a hushed silence fell over the speakeasy.

Folks, here's a story 'bout Minnie the Moocher She was a red hot hoochie-coocher She was the roughest, toughest frail But Minnie had a heart as big as a whale

The lyrics flowed easily through Alastor's mind, carried by the smooth, buttery tones of your voice that filled the air. The radio host found himself utterly hypnotized, his gaze never tearing from your form.

He could stare for hours, unabashed by any sense of shame—though, truth be told, he didn't possess much of that quality to begin with.

She messed around with a bloke named Smokey She loved him though he was kokey He took her down to Chinatown And he showed her how to kick the gong around

As Mimzy began clapping excitedly and waving her arms to beckon you over, Alastor's attention shifted. The final notes of the song echoed in the room, snapping him back to reality. In the haze of your performance, he hadn't even realized that the song had come to an end.

“What a gal!” Mimzy cackled, joyously wrapping her arms around you as you approached.

Alastor took a moment to study you with keen interest.

The dim lighting of the speakeasy lent a soft, ethereal glow to your figure as you moved, casting long shadows across the floor. A slender dress, shimmering with golden sequins, hugged your figure, shimmers and glitters catching the light. The dress boasted a daring low neckline, while its swaying boxed skirt gracefully fell just above your knees, accentuating your every movement. Complementing the ensemble were black kitten heels, their clicks and clacks adding a subtle rhythm to every step you took. Your hair, styled into a sleek bob, framed your demure features perfectly. Adorning your head was a headpiece adorned with golden yellow feathers and dark lace.

"Dollface, I want ya to meet Alastor!" Mimzy exclaimed, pulling you along and positioning you in front of him. “He’s new!”

With a wave of your hands and a warm smile, you tilted your head up to meet Alastor's gaze. The man standing before you was tall and slim, boasting broad shoulders. His white button-up clung perfectly to his frame, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms adorned with scars, cuts, and prominent veins.

‘Must be a hunter or a butcher,’ you noted heatedly.

Short, side-swept brunette hair framed his face, adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance, while rectangular glasses perched on the bridge of his nose lent him an air of intelligence. As he smiled, a chill crept down your spine, and an odd sinking sensation settled in your stomach.

There was an unsettling nature to him, a subtle aura that left you uncertain of whether your reaction stemmed from the eerie quality of his smile or if it was simply a flustered response to his strikingly handsome features. 

“Pleasure to meet you, cher,” Alastor purred, turning on the charm. He delicately took your hand, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. In a subtle move, the radio host let his fingers linger over your skin, subtly checking for any sign of a ring. Noticing the absence, he filed the information away with a sly smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, sir,” you smiled, tucking your face behind your hand. Alastor observed with delight as a subtle blush painted your cheeks, a tacit acknowledgment that his presence had left an impression.

"Al here knows his way around a glass of whiskey like nobody else in these parts! Ain't that right, Al?" Mimzy chattered, her voice bubbling with familiarity as if she had known him for years and hadn't just met him one song and ten drinks ago.

Alastor chuckled, a low, melodic sound that sent your stomach doing flips. "

"Well, I do have a certain fondness for…" The radio host paused, his sharp, gaze raking up and down your form, his words trailing off. "…finer things in life."

A silence lingered in the air, and Mimzy, always attuned to the mood of a room, shot a knowing look between the two of you.

"Well, don't cha?" Mimzy exclaimed, her hands clapping with excitement. "If that's the case, then I'm sure Dolly would love to show you around here!"

"Is that so?" Alastor, maintaining that devilish smile, turned his attention back to you. "Well, what do you say, cher?" he questioned.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, you met his gaze with a coy smile. "I'd be delighted to show you around. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye."

Mimzy clapped her hands together. "Perfect! Now, why don't you two enjoy the rest of the night? I'll be right here waiting."

“Shall we?” Alastor offered his hand, gesturing to the dance floor.

With a small nod, you graciously accepted Alastor's outstretched hand, leading the way to the lively dance floor where the band played an upbeat tune. Around you, couples twirled in a dizzying dance, with heels tapping, shoes stomping, and skirts gracefully gliding and twirling. Alastor wasted no time, pulling you in and molding your form against his.

Looks were indeed deceiving, as despite his lean appearance, Alastor had no issue effortlessly tossing and spinning you round and round, lifting you as if you were as weightless as a feather. Each spin and dip was executed with skill, his footwork was a blur and soon enough, you found yourself willingly surrendering to the rhythm of his lead. 

This man could fucking dance.

As the music gradually slowed, Alastor guided you to the side, providing a moment to catch your breath after the energetic routine.

"Thank you for the dance, cher! You are quite quick on your feet," Alastor chuckled, his voice low, blending with the fading echoes of the music.

"You're not too bad yourself," you managed between breaths, a raspy laugh escaping your lips. "Nobody's ever been able to keep up with me," you continued, running a hand through your tousled hair and adjusting your dress. "I think I was the one who had to keep up with you."

After ensuring you were presentable, you lifted a hand to fix Alastor's slightly damp locks, adjusting his glasses and tie. Alastor froze, a foreign sensation enveloping him. Despite his typical aversion to physical contact, there was an absence of the usual recoil in disdain this time.

"Looks like we're both a bit of a mess, aren't we?" you chuckled, a wry smile playing on your lips as you gracefully brushed away a speck of dust from his shirt.

Alastor blinked and eventually relaxed, allowing you to proceed without any resistance. "Quite."

While you continued to fix him up, Alastor couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment. He felt as though coils had entwined themselves around his heart. Slowly constricting, they didn't just tighten but twisted, sharp edges digging into muscle, squeezing his emotions into a thick syrup that spilled beyond the confines of his ribs, seeping out in a haunting shade of crimson through the cracks in his chest.

As the seconds passed, he paid no mind to your touch, shifting his focus to instead dissect you with his eyes. He scrutinized the subtle reactions playing across your face—the delicate twitches of your brows, the soft pout of your blood-red lips, and the scrunches of your nose. 

What were you doing to him?

"There you go!" you announced, a note of satisfaction in your voice as you finished your task, your hand coming to rest briefly on his chest before retreating. "Ready to head back?"

Snapping out of his obsessive trance, Alastor emitted a soft hum, offering his arm to you. You gracefully accepted, intertwining your arm with his. The energetic atmosphere from the dance gradually subsided as you and Alastor made your way back to the private booth. Mimzy's mischievous grin awaited you as she rejoined your company.

"Looks like you two had quite the time!" she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye.

Alastor quickly composed himself, nodding with a grin. "Indeed! It was quite a delightful dance."

Just as Alastor turned toward you, the insistent dings of a nearby clock echoed through the room. His expression shifted, a fleeting shadow of disappointment and ire crossing his face. The hours had danced away quicker than he had anticipated.

Undoubtedly, the night was still young for you, given that speakeasies often extended their festivities until the early hours of the morning.

However, as much as Alastor would adore the idea of continuing to enjoy your company, the weight of responsibilities at home tugged at him. He had his elderly mother waiting, relying on his care for her well-being, as well as an upcoming morning shift at the radio station.

"It's later than I realized, my dear," he admitted, his voice carrying a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I can't stay any longer. Duty calls, and the dawn awaits for my return."

Something twisted and snapped in Alastor's gut as he observed the unmistakable disappointment etched across your features, evident in the downturn of your blood-red lips. His fingers itched with an impulse to claw your mouth back into a smile, to dig his nails into your skin and carve your lips into a grotesque display of happiness, all in a desperate attempt to restore the radiance of your joy.

Meanwhile, Mimzy sighed in disappointment, yet Alastor discerned that beneath the theatrics, she was indifferent to it all, evident in her thinly veiled disinterest.

"Aww… That's too bad, sugar! The night's just gettin' started!" Mimzy exclaimed, shaking her head with a pout. 

"But I get it! Some folks got places to be," Mimzy waved it off. There was a sudden twinkle in her eye as she pulled out a tab from her dress pocket. "Anyways, 'bout those drinks you had, they weren't exactly on the house, sooo..."

Alastor chuckled and pulled out his wallet. "Of course, my dear! I apologize, it must not have crossed my mind!"

He settled the bill and threw in a generous tip, for both you and Mimzy. His job as a radio host was quite the money-spinner, affording him the pleasure of treating others to the finer things in life. Mimzy practically glowed with satisfaction, her blue eyes sparkling as she snatched the tab. Swift and efficient, she flipped through the bills, before pocketing the money.

"Thank you, love!" Mimzy chirped, already moving away from the table as she waved him off. "You're welcome anytime!"

“I’m sure I am,” Alastor responded flatly, almost mockingly, with a roll of his eyes, pulling a laugh from you. As Mimzy made her way off backstage, both you and Alastor were left alone.

“It's a shame you have to leave so soon. I've got more songs up my sleeve for later. I would have loved for you to stay and catch the performance,” you sighed, turning back to him.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with genuine interest. "Songs, you say? Well, cher, that does sound like a delightful experience. Perhaps I can catch your next show some other time."

You smiled, appreciating his enthusiasm. "I'd love that. I perform here regularly, and your company would be more than welcome anytime."

Alastor's gaze intensified, fixing onto you with a magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer despite yourself. His eyes, pools of darkness, held an unexplainable intensity. As his lips curled up into a grin, there was a hint of something more primal than human lurking behind his charming facade. A shiver traced its way down your spine, leaving behind a lingering sensation that unsettled you to your core.

"I'll definitely make it a point to come by," he finally said. 

Scrambling for a response, the only sound that reached your ears was the rhythmic thud of your own heartbeat as your blood rushed through your veins.

"Y-You too! Don't let the night slip away too quickly," you stammered.

With a nod, Alastor bid you a final farewell, weaving through the dimly lit space towards the exit. 

Yes, he shall see you very soon.

Cher - Louisiana Creole term meaning "darling," "sweetie" or "honey."

[words-and-threads]

(Cn surgery, dysphoria, body horror, reproductive organs, gendered violence, swearing)

I've never quite been sure whether my horror around pregnancy and childbirth is an expression of dysphoria. I know a lot of full-time women find the idea empowering or life-affirming. To me the emotional difference between a chest-burster and a fetus is consent and a lower chance of death.

And that's so weird because I have no problem with the idea of changing my body. If surgery weren't expensive, risky, and painful I'd be getting mods all the time. I still kind of want to go on low doses of T and I don't want to be a full time man either. I revel in being freaky, monstrous, unnatural, and all that holds me back from being more so is the effort and pain.

But the idea of housing a tiny human inside me (not anyone, just me specifically)? Repulsive, invasive, just wrong. One of the surgeries I want is to remove my uterus. All it does is hurt, bleed and risk pregnancy. I'd rather lack a major organ that my body has spent 35 years growing around than allow it to fulfil its natural function. Is this discomfort with womanhood? I dont feel the same about my chest at all. I live as a woman most of the time, I'm fine being seen as a woman because it's not wrong, just incomplete.

Plus a lot of things about living as a woman just suck. Even if it's better than trying to be a man when you aren't one, it's still a tough job. I feel uncomfortable with femme presentation because I feel exposed, targeted, marked. I am drawing attention to being a woman and that feels dangerous. Maybe it's also dysphoric, maybe it's social anxiety, maybe it's traumatic experiences of sexism. I can't really separate them.

I still feel uncomfortable calling myself trans because I could live stealth for the rest of my life and I'd be fine. I'm a cis woman some of the time. That's enough, right? I don't need to claim transness. I don't mind if other people consider me trans. I love it when people can't guess my gender and I'm very visibly queer. If I were trans I would hardly be hiding it but like...am I tho? Really? And since I'm not really trans I can't really have gender dysphoria so obviously my utter horror of pregnancy and discomfort with femininity isn't a gender identity thing I'm just weird.

Yep. Checks out.

[clockwayswrites]

The Birdritch's Nest part 25

masterpost

“That is a lot of plants,” Jason said. He swept his eyes over the space as he slipped his lock picks back into their little pouch.

“He has a botanist friend, apparently, and she keeps giving him plants,” Dick explained as he squeezed past Jason and into the apartment.

“Why are you here again?”

“Because I have a car which is better to carry all of Danny’s stuff in than your bike,” Dick explained. He went over to the wall of plants in front of the windowed corner and squinted down at something on his phone.

Jason pulled out his own phone to glance at what Tim had sent. “You say ‘all Danny’s stuff’ like the list was long. The guy hasn’t exactly been demanding.”

“The ‘guy’ expects to actually go home in a few days,” Dick pointed out.

“And is an adult and so can, you know, actually go home,” Jason retorted.

“Damian’s attached.”

“…I concede to your point,” Jason said once that thought sunk in. “Double the clothing asked for?”

“Basically. Make sure that he has a weeks worth, Alfred can always do laundry,” Dick said before letting out a little noise of triumph and doing something over by the plants. “There, watering system turned on.”

“Congratulations, you’re a genius,” Jason drawled. “Now go get his medication gathered up and snoop a little while you’re at it.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to be snooping,” Dick, words a teasing sing-song as he passed by.

Jason flicked him off. “Like you wouldn’t anyways. I just want to know what you find.”

“Only if you tell me what you find in the bedroom.”

“Deal.”

The bedroom was almost startlingly normal after the plant filled living main room. It didn’t look like Danny really spent much time in it beyond sleeping. The bed was absentmindedly fixed, a black down comforter over pale blue sheets. There was a paperback on the nightstand next to a lamp and a pocket sized notebook with a pen clipped onto the bent and battered cover.

It was the first thing that Jason picked up.

The notebook was obviously where Danny made notes when he was already settled in bed. As Jason flipped through the pages there was everything from to-do lists to invention ideas to… a lot of thought about wings. Jason turned the notebook in his hands. That page wasn’t in English. The language felt like it was on the tip of Jason’s tongue but he just couldn’t get it out.

Maybe some sort of dialect?

Jason couldn’t actually read it, but there was enough to piece together from similarities that tugged on his memory. Enough to understand it was about the wings. Something about the process of change? Aging?

“Hey Jay?” Dick interrupted, scattering Jason’s thoughts. “Can you read the label on these bottles? There’s some serious printing issues happening, I can’t even tell what language it’s in.”

The pill bottle felt oddly cold in Jason’s hand when he took it from Dick, but maybe the bathroom just had shit heating in this place. It would be just like Gotham builders to mess that up.

“Oh, that’s the same thing Danny is writing in here,” Jason said passing the notebook to Dick. “It’s something about wings and getting old, I think, but I can’t really read it.”

“Read it? I don’t even know what it is. Gives me a headache just to look at it,” Dick grumbled as he flipped through the notebook. “The whole bird thing has really been on his mind, hasn’t it?”

Jason gave a little huff. “Do you blame him? The guy has wings now. It would be on my mind too.”

“Yeah… guess I really can’t,” Dick said and snapped a picture of the page with the unknown writing to send to the group chat. “Any idea what it is?”

“Nope. It’s like it’s a distant dialect or that it uses some of the same alphabet of something I learned some of once. Like how Chinese and Japanese use some of the same characters, you know?” Jason explained as he opened the side table drawer and then quickly closed it again. That was more than he needed to know about Danny. “Maybe something from when I was catatonic in the league, who knows. There were a lot of languages in that place.”

“Cass or Damian might now it then,” Dick said as he eyed the drawer Jason had now moved away from.

“Don’t, trust me,” Jason said. “Did you get the medications you needed to grab?”

“Yeah, they’re in the bag. Just a standard bathroom, really. Though he keeps his toothbrush in this old mug with a hero I don’t recognize on it, someone called Phantom.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell, but it sure sounds like a hero name. Add it to the list,” Jason said as he started on gathering up the requested clothing and extra enough to last a week. “Check the closet to see if there are any shits in there that work around wings.”

Jason rolled his eyes as Dick threw the closet doors open dramatically and focused on his task. Jeans, sweatpants, underwear, what he guessed was pajamas were all added to the bag.

“So, nothing that looks like it was made for wings,” Dick said and tossed some normal shirts and a few sweaters into the bag. Jason sighed and folded them neatly. “Maybe he hasn’t had time to find any yet? It hasn’t been that long since the bird thing and seems it all started there. Or maybe he’s just always home when he’s had then?”

“Better let Alfred know then. He’ll want to get something as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dick agreed.

While Dick stepped out of the bedroom to call Alfred, Jason took the time to double check the list. It really was pretty basic. Jason didn’t know if Danny was just trying to not be demanding or if the guy didn’t need much, but Jason went ahead and put the bedside paperback and notebook in the bad too. Jason slung the duffel bag Dick had brought over his shoulder (he totally could have ridden his bike like this) and took a little bit of time to snoop through Danny’s bookcase while Dick finished the call. Sci-fi, horror, old text books, and a ton of notebooks filled the shelf with knickknacks and a few figures. Jason at least had to give Danny points for having some of the sci-fi classics, even if the range of works was pretty limited.

“Okay, Alfred is on it,” Dick said. “Anything else we need to do?”

“Nah, I think we’re good,” Jason said. Something made him not want to look through the notebooks, like they had already done enough snooping. It was an odd feeling. “Let’s get going, I’m hungry for whatever dinner is.”

“You’re always hungry,” Dick said.

Jason shrugged rather than dealing with how true that statement was. “I’m a growing boy.”

“You’re a trash pit.”

“Yeah, you want to go there, cereal boy?”

“Leave my cereal out of it!”

---

AN: I do love writing Dick & Jason so much. Can you tell I have an older brother? Also sorry for the mistakes I'm sure are abounding. Guess who turns out to be anemic? This critter! Maybe getting that fixed will help...

[giannaln4]

I'm Sorry

lando norris x fem reader

summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)

warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending

a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.

The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 

Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.

He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.

Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.

He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.

“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”

“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 

That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“

“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”

To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”

You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 

He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 

As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.

You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 

Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 

The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 

Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 

That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.

“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”

That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 

He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 

“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 

“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”

After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”

“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”

“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.

[littlepuppers]

i really want to go camping. just a nice, solo camping trip to relax and have time to myself :)

I’d wake up and make breakfast, hike up to a different spot, start a fire and forage for a bit, draw or carve something, and setup camp for the night.

i have one pair of pjs with me and my sleeping bag for the night because i don’t have to worry about anyone judging what i wear or asking me for a spare blanket. So i packed just a pair of booty shorts and a smallish tank top. it’s just basic undergarments, nothing fancy, and i would be pretty embarrassed if anyone knew i wore these drabby clothes to sleep.

after i make a cup of sleepytime tea and wait for the fire to die out, i snuggle up in my sleeping bag. it’s a bit chillier tonight but i don’t have any other clothes to wear on top of this since i only brought my pjs and my stinky hiking clothes.

whatever. i drift off to sleep and dream of watching shooting stars falling around me, so pretty. as they crash onto the ground around me i feel the heat from them on my skin. it’s getting warmer, but i also really feel it on my cheeks. like i’m flushed or blushing. i watch the stars spark into flames and die out into embers.

animals start to surround me. deer, rabbits, foxes, and coyotes. they all come up around me and start sniffing my face and body. they start licking my face and neck, i giggle trying to push them away, it tickles. one of the coyotes that’s licking my stomach starts traveling down toward the hem of my shorts. woahhh haha, watch out buddy, i tell him.

Obviously not understanding english, he nudges his snout under the hem and takes a lick on my parts. i push his head away harshly and sit up. Immediately im pushed back down by the other animals and a huge buck comes and steps on my hair and arms so i can’t move.

i know this is a dream but how am i not waking up already???

a rabbit comes and starts pulling my shorts down, the coyote comes back and nudges his snout between my legs, i scream and try to close them but he turns and bites one. fuck, that felt real.

He goes back and starts licking, hesitant at first, just seeing how it tastes i guess. since foraging and meal prepping the smart and healthy way, ive only packed like fruit and stuff so obviously it probably tastes like really fucking good. at least that’s all i can assume from him diving in, licking deeper and deeper. fuck her tongue is fucking huge. it goes in and out fluidly. the slick sounds filling the air along with my whimpers and the other animals breathing and chirping and whining.

i feel it building up in my tummy, something molten. fuck, this is the weirdest wet dream i’ve ever had.

all of the sudden, his tongue dives insanely deep and curls into one of my spots. I wake up with a gasp and shaking through an orgasm. letting out a loud screaming moan, my eyes shoot open as i feel it curl inside me again.

WHAT THE FUCK

a tall dark figure is above me, my sleeping bag is unzipped and this persons hand is between my legs, his fingers curl inside me again. i scream, grabbing his arm and trying to push him away and get his fingers out. he plunges them deeper and uses his other hand to wrap around my neck and push it to the ground, holding it there.

i try to scream but can’t with my minimal airway, so i struggle and whimper, squeezing and trying to tear his arm away from my neck but it won’t budge. his fingers are still thrusting in and out of me, sometimes slowing down to explore and prod at my spots. i really cant help but shiver from the stimulation and orgasm from earlier. but who the fuck is the guy and how did he get in here and find me?!?

he finally speaks, moving his fingers to slip out a bit. “you weren’t this wet the whole time darlin’, my friend had to help you out to start, could barely get him off’a you. but i can’t blame him…” the dark figure takes his fingers out slowly with a shhlickkk sound, putting them up to his mouth, “…because you sure do taste fucking heavenly.” he leans to the side so i can see behind him something moves, a fucking dog. what the fuck. i thrash and whimper. “don’t fucking move. he bit you once, he’ll do it again.” I freeze, the bite, the dream, fuck it was all real.

the dog starts whining and tries to come up to me but the man pushes him back. he pushes his fingers back into me and starts moving them again, fuck i’m so overstimulated it almost hurts. “fuck, he’s eager. do u mind if he goes for a second course?” “fuck you,” i strain out. he opens my legs barely and the dog jumps over me sniffing and licking as deep inside as he was in the dream. fuckkk this is horrible i could get a disease or something, he needs to stop licking at my fucking spots it’s really too much.

the pressure starts building again. oh no, no no no no. please god i can fucking cum on a dogs tongue. opposing to my thoughts, my body gets closer and closer and- he stops. i freeze and tears start flowing from my eyes. from relief his contact from me is gone and because my body is so worn out now.

SHITT, something scrapes at my hips, the dogs paws, what the fuck is going on?? “sorry darling, he needs a little help, do you mind?” the man takes the pillow out from under my head and harshly lifts my hips, placing it underneath. he takes his hand off my throat finally, i gasp for air and can barely speak through my damaged vocal chords, “fuck you asshole.” “uhh yeahhhh i won’t, but he’s about to.” he nudges the dog forward. the man stuffs my shorts into my mouth so i can’t scream. how the fuck is this happening.

the dog immediately scratches at my hips again and starts rutting his hips toward me. FUCK NO. i thrash around but feel something poke my neck. it’s the man holding my wood carving knife i. his hand against my neck. “move, and I’ll fucking slit your throat.” tear start flowing from my eyes. how did i ever get in this position. i feel something scortching start to poke at my entrance, fuck please no please please please no…

the dog edges toward me more and suddenly plowing himself so deep inside me, how the fuck did i think doggy dicks were small??? this feels fucking huge, it fucking hurts. he’s thrusting in and out and an inhumane pace. his huge red doggy part pushes every single one of my spots and i can’t think anymore, i can’t even move. it’s like he’s going through me i can almost feel it in my stomach. he starts growling and i feel it get bigger. no way, this dog is not gonna knot me. please god. he can’t fit it in thank god.

“aw cmon buster, you can do better than that,” the mysterious man says before pushing the dogs backside against me and i feel it force inside me FUCK.

fuck that’s huge, i can’t fucking move because i think im gonna break. help please someone help me god…

i feel it. the flooding of molten liquid filling me. all i can do is whine through this soaked through fabric. i’m such an idiot for getting myself in this stupid situation, for not bringing a gun, im so stupid. there’s nothing i can do now except stay still while this dogs huge knot presses on my spot and his cum dumps into my cervix. i feel it dripping out. all over my sleeping bag and the floor of the tent. “how’d that feel hun? seems buster loved it, did you?” he takes his finger and wipes from the base of the dogs cock, bringing the liquid up to my mouth and smearing it all over my lips. i feel it leak down into my mouth and i’m utterly repulsed.

the dog breaks away with a POP and my legs and hips and whole body goes lax. the man chuckles and puts his hand down there again. oh no please don’t, and he doesn’t. instead, he scoops up the dogs cum and pushes it back into me. “good girl keep it in ok? the scent of it will help him track you down again.” i groan weakly and my vision begins to go blurry. the last thing i see is him throwing a stick outside the tent and the stupid dog running off after it to fetch.

fuck camping.

[soulwrencher]

how would it taste, and the way you move

summary: ellie takes you back to her place after patrol, letting you take a closer look at her tattoo but you find yourself eating her out instead.

warnings: not proof read, nsfw

"you thought that was off-putting?" you gasp and slowly chuckle at the sight of ellie's forehead forming wrinkles as she raises her eyebrows. "i mean, how would you like it if i went—" she scoots closer, her eyes searching for yours. inhaling sharply, she waits a second, or two, before she wiggles her head like a bobblehead. her mouth is wide open, she's screaming silently, only the air rolling over her tongue is audible.

"no way," you burst out into laughter, and she does too. suddenly the fairy lights over her couch seem much brighter, you notice the warm tones illuminating her face, shining onto the ridges of her scars. "so... how did you like that?" she rubs her shoulder, a scoff escaping underneath her breath.

"can you blame me though? i totally panicked when i saw that crack on your mask," apologetic eyes, how could ellie ever be upset with you? it might've not been the smartest thing to do, screaming at the top of your lungs while you just finished dealing with several clickers. she just thought it was sweet that you cared for her, although anyone would react the same way, but for some reason she likes to read more into your actions. no specific reason, she just had a soft spot for you, that's what the auburn-haired woman would tell herself when she would lay awake at night thinking of you.

"guess i owe you a more throughout explanation then," she says, her mind overly aware of the fact that your shoulders are touching. you tilt your head towards her in anticipation, exposing the skin on your neck. her eyes trace the way the light is illuminating you, from your nose bridge to your jaw, down to your collarbone all the way to your shoulder.

ellie shuts her eyes close once, inhales and exhales deep twice. she watches your eyes wander down to her forearm closely as she rolls up the sleeve to expose her tattoo. you've always been curious about seeing it up close, you couldn't lie about the fact that you thought that it made her insanely attractive. objectively, of course.

"you see this?" her soft tone pulling you out of thought. she tilts her head, eyes lingering on yours. green eyes, you want to get lost in them. you scrunch up your face at that thought, you're not supposed to have thoughts like these, you tell yourself. you squint, trying to see what she's pointing at. "hold up," ellie reaches out for your hand, but she stops herself. "can i?" she asks, you nod.

the second the tip of her fingers touch the back of your hand, it sent shivers all over your skin. your body couldn't deny what your mind has been trying to any longer.

she gently makes you form a fist, pressing every finger of yours down leaving out your index finger. her thumb glides over your palm as she wraps her fingers around your wrist, pulling your hand softly towards her forearm for you to feel. it was mesmerizing watching her put so much care into such a simple action that it made you become self-conscious over the speed of your heartbeat and the heat creeping up your face.

you avert your gaze rapidly towards her tattoo, feeling the textured parts of her skin.

"oh," it escapes your mouth, your eyes widen in embarrassment. you didn't mean to, your mind was racing. "yeah, i was bitten, it looked like shit," she chuckles, her eyes focused on the back of your hand. "but i covered it up, pretty neat, huh?" ellie continues, as she slightly twists her forearm to the left and right underneath the fairy lights. "yeah, you look really good,"

"i do?" ellie blushes. she can't read too much into it, but it's already too late. the words have left your lips already, you can't take it back, you're visibly embarrassed.

but seeing her reaction, seeing her freckles drown in the pink of her cheeks, maybe it wasn't so bad. perhaps you really didn't mind seeing her get all flustered like this over a singular compliment. and while your mind begs you to pull yourself together, you've been dying to know what it felt like to let your guard down for once.

"yeah, i think you look really good," you repeat once more, carefully watching her. "thank you," her voice is low and soft, she can't ignore her racing heart any longer. just a soft spot, but was that really it? why would ellie's heart jump at you finding her decent?

"you're really pretty too," she says, inching a little closer. she holds her breath, anticipating your reaction. but she couldn't see coming that you were reaching for the side of her cheek, cupping her face in your hand. you've been wanting to do this, wanting to close the distance, you wanted her and she did too. and as the fairy lights emit the warmth coming from your bodies, you lose yourself in short, desperate kisses.

her hands searching your body, eyes adoring every inch of your skin, something ellie dreamed of each night she couldn't sleep and every time she's been on patrol with you, she couldn't help but wonder what's been hiding underneath those clothes of yours. undressing you, that's all she could think of and you could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way her fingers dragged over the only skin that was exposed. but you've been craving for her more, so you push her gently against the armrest of the couch, the auburn-haired woman was quivering under your touch already.

"you seem so tough, but i know," you whisper as you gaze down on her. "you know what?" she looks up to you through her lashes, fuck did she look pretty.

"i know how soft you are," you go on, as you play with the rim of her shirt. you feel her skin heat up, she's looking away, inhaling deeply while in thought before her green eyes pierce through you and waver your confidence. "if you start something now," she begins, while adjusting her body to place her veiny hands on your waist. "it's gonna be hard to stop me," she continues, gaze lingering on you. you hold her hands on your waist and move them up to your face, still holding them. you've let your guard down already, and the way she's been looking at you has left you throbbing, so you weren't going to stop here.

"keep up then," you say as you make ellie slightly part her legs to allow space for your knee in between, her soft lips are on yours.

ellie has been dying to know what you've tasted like. but your knee being dangerously close to her pussy was distracting her, she wanted more, she wanted for you to actually touch her. her arms around your neck, you begin to undress her while dragging your lips down her neck all the way to her sternum.

"fuck, they're gorgeous," you exhale as you cup her tits. you squeeze and knead, making her inhale sharply. ellie winces and a little noise escapes her mouth, enough to drive you crazy. you accidentally shove your knee in between her legs as you lean forward to pull down her pants and watch her bite down a moan, fuck, you want to go crazy on her. but you have to hold back, you tell yourself. not until her panties reveal the wet spot that her pants have been hiding.

"is this okay?" you ask, she nods hastily. you tease her swollen lips through the fabric, making her move her hips desperately to feel more. "so you're just gonna tease me?" ellie says breathlessly. you get on your knees, move the fabric to the side and spread her lips, exposing her clit. "you look so pretty like this," you whisper over her clit, making her grab onto your hair. she couldn't take any of this teasing any longer, ellie desperately wanted for you to make her feel good, to eat her out. her clit has been throbbing ever since you've been here, craving your touch.

how could you resist when ellie was this wet for you, when she's been squirming and tugging your hair, you've never seen this side of her. you drag your tongue over her clit, all the way up and then back down, curving your tongue slightly into her hole.

"fuck, more," ellie moans, thighs squeezing your head as she throws back hers, she felt the sensation all over her body. she's so wet, sucking on her clit makes you have to swallow, but you absolutely love the way she tastes. you let your tongue circle around, just a little more.

"please, if you just—" you go right over her cunt, tugging her between your lips, curving your tongue up and down while putting more pressure on her clit. ellie grabs your hair and moves her pelvic floor like crazy, the way you were eating her out makes her feel like she just ascended, she wants to go higher, she wants you to take her there.

her moans and grunts only turn you on more and more. she sounds so pretty that you want to keep her all to yourself but you knew she wasn't yours to have.

"you make me feel so good, please keep going," the auburn-haired woman begs, the desperation oozing out from her voice. it didn't matter if she wasn't yours to have, all that did matter is that she wants you know, she's been screaming and moaning your name, trembling at your touch, rolling her eyes back at the feeling. you're the one in control, and you're surprised she even let you. she might not be yours, but no one knows that ellie enjoys being taken care of, that she enjoy you taking care of her. and so she moans your name as she cums into your mouth, she's been so wet that her juices have covered your whole lower half of your face and you loved every second of it.

you get up but stay close, her eyes are searching for yours. you wrap your arms around her and pull her into a kiss, she looks so pretty like this, illuminated by the lightening. her freckles are so pretty, you don't want to leave yet. but were you ready to be bold?

"you wanna wash up and grab something to eat?" you ask, your voice low, what if she rejected you? a grin spreads over her lips. "we could get high and watch something too," ellie adds as she plays with your hair. "sounds good to me," you say, kissing her cheek.

a/n: hey sorry for lying that i'm gonna drop a part two of something i wrote a month ago im sorry i lie alot but here's reader eating ellie out i hope that's good enough LOL