#someone clap pls

[aceyanaheim]

Okay Fine I'll text my therapist

[blu3berrydraws]

--- Wow Zuko who let you be so gorgeous?

Bonus:

[sainteddie]

me reading the 874th hate message someone has gotten on my dash this week:

[lavampira]

the ‘did you see that guy getting chased by a tree’ vibe

feat. @hythlodaes’ emile

[draculpyre]

Starlight I will be chasing a starlight Until the end of my life I don't know if it's worth it anymore (x)

Red Gaze? No. Pining Gaze. I think starlight suits them well. I like the idea of Dante being bright like the sun and Verg gradually being enamored by that. Also I just like drawing flowers!!

[kaeyachi]

w-w-w-w-wait

yall didn't like the design for professor naphis? 🥺

but the goggles are so cool!!

and the vibrant green outfit makes him stand out!!

and the bob that everyone hates is my favorite coz it's telling of their personality!

you look at him and go "yeah, he looks like the sage of amurta alright" or "oh he's a mildly insane but strict scientist!"

he probably ticks all the cartoonish character design standards!

isn't he barbie movie-esque? 1990s-2000s mad scientist-core?

he's identifiable from a distance! you could point him out on a police line!!

if he were designed any less crazy than that, I'd be sad 🥺

[nostalgia-tblr]

when people talk about pre-2000s fictional characters with a subtextual aura of Predatory Homosexual or Weak Effeminate Gay or the like as though they threw if not the first brick at stonewall then certainly the second or the third.

[homocannibals]

yooooooooooooooo

[essektheylyss]

[pov: you made a pun in the fey solstice party buffet line and you're not sure if she's laughing or you're about be get turned into compost]

really just posting cuz I said I was only gonna paint for an hour and then I... kept going. but I've got shit to do and I cannot hyperfocus on Amana before I play her again on Sunday or I will get absolutely nothing done.

[sukugo]

got COCKBLOCKED in my own HOUSE (both literally and figuratively 🤔)

[n7viper]

I feel so weird when people on this site are nice to me because I tend to feel like I'm not worthy of it if I'm simply existing. Like, no one should be nice to me if I'm not talented - if I can't write fic or draw or something. And it's like, the dumbest brain thing? Why on earth would that be the case? I don't feel that way about people, so why would they feel that way about me? And if they do feel that way, why would I want to be around them? Like what the fuck? Brain, please.

[joshhutchersonseggsalad]

serious talk. real shit, how the FUQ. are yall finding whole ass partners on the internet!!??? a handful of my friends are finding their lovers online, even somehow from REDDIT!! especially ppl in the same fandoms as them like DEADASS ik its not good to obv LOOK for love and to let it come find u but it baffles me how u guys just accidentally bump into someone who is basically ur other half and ur soulmate and makes u believe in true love..just by liking the same fuckin actor or show😭😭😭

[aceyanaheim]

Which like shark week coming right after a burn out spiral and depression flare up week really feels like Overkill ngl

[hellion-child]

ok lets say, the 118 are called to an mva, maybe a pile up or something. doesnt matter

what does matter is that there is an unscathed sport team on their bus (which sport also doesnt matter) what also does matter is that there is a bus load of mostly lesbians and bisexuals

so picture this w me. the incident is over, crews are making up equipment. eddie and buck are standing together, they (and we) assume the team is making eyes at them, yknow the way the show regularly has chicks hit on them

(buck is near vibrating w the possibility of getting to say the words 'sorry, i have a boyfriend'. theres a bet going on whether eddies moustache would be more or less attractive to women)

the team approach the crew but before buck can blurt out a word nor eddie smooth down his stache, a chorus of excuse me's has them parting like the red sea to reveal the team's true target:

cut to hen. zooming in, music playing (idk what song u tell me). her arms bare, preferably in That tank top (is this incorrect ppc? yes but idc no one wears a fucking mask correctly, let me have this) she removes her helmet in slow mo, wipes her brow. unscrews a water bottle, tilting her head back to drink. that kinda stuff yknow

then the slowmo and music stops when hen finds herself surround by flirty women. she does a lil "wait, me??👆🏾" and theyre like, yeah, You

aaand we cut back to the scene of the incident but now its purely from the pov of a group of women w a competency kink (aka cue the music for more slow mo hen as she saves lives and looks damn fine doing it)

idk im bad at words but u see the vision, yes?? u picking up what im badly putting down??

ok i can ignore all the inaccuracies and dramatisations in 911 but what i can not and will not ignore is the blatant oversight that we are yet to see even one woman thirst over hen while at an incident

like theres a lot of things i need would like to happen in s8 but this is absolutely the most important

[taegularities]

Hi Rid! What’s keeping you busy these days? 😊

hi babe!! oh my gosh, so much. school's starting next week, which means more papers, presentations and homework :') 3 semesters to go, someone pls tell me i can do it lmao.

and then also, work is so exhausting. lots to do, not much time to rest, even less to write.. i spend most of my free time eating or watching stuff! the last few days were additionally v horrible lol but things are getting better. hope everyone here's been well 🤍

[maxlarens]

Hi ! As a pescatarian girly and as someone who has recently started to like Lando, I kept thinking about him with pescatarian!reader, because you know opposites attracts and also it made me think of the olive theory from 'How I met your mother', can be fic or smau

(also I'm the anon who requested the Charles fic and I was wondering if you gave names or emojis to your anons 🤔)

ahhh hi😇😇 thank u sm for sending another ask in. verrryy into this! ive never watched himym but i HAVE heard of the olive theory and genuinely think it can be so true. i also think like sharing food/giving certain parts of ur meal to ur partner is so sweet so i loved this a lot🥺🥺

also, tbh i have never had a consistent enough anon to name them/give them an emoji so i would loveee LOVE to do that🙏🏻 pls let me know what i should call u❤️ (and if anyone wants to be a regular/semi-regular anon and give themselves an emoji/name pls do!!!) ANYWAY alright i hope u enjoy— it’s a just a short ficlet 😌💖

LN: quid pro quo

pairing(s): lando norris x reader [read on ao3]

word count: 1.2k

“Eugh,” Lando says, feigning a gag as he looks at the plate of food set in front of you, “That’s disgusting. I don’t understand how you can put that in your mouth.”

Slowly, you raise an eyebrow at him, looking between your plate and Lando’s screwed-up expression; you point at your food, “Salmon? You think salmon is disgusting? Are you joking right now?”

He shakes his head fervently, a grimace still stuck on his face, “It’s gross.”

A laugh, loud and guffawing erupts from your mouth as you realise he’s being entirely serious. He’s fixated on your meal, frowning as if the fish has severely insulted him in some way. Quickly, you clap your hand over your mouth, concerned you’ll offend him if you keep laughing like that. This is one of a handful of dates you’ve been on together— clearly the first you’ve ordered seafood on— and you’re still trying to make a good impression on Lando.

“Wait,” you collect yourself, breathing deeply so you don’t fall into a fit of giggles again, “You’re not allergic are you?”

“No,” he shrugs, “I just hate fish. You’ve never heard that?”

You snort a little indelicately, already going back to eating your salmon, “‘You’ve never heard that?’,” you tease, “Do you think I stalk you on the internet, Norris?”

He grins that small sheepish grin you like so much as a light blush blooms on his cheeks. You’re very fond of him really. He’s cute in a scrappy kind of way; he’s funny and charming, a little bit dumb sometimes; and he’s into you, which is always a bonus. You’re not together— not quite— just seeing each other when you both have time, but it’s been going very nicely if you do say so yourself.

You like him.

He likes you.

Lando rolls his eyes, and purses his lips in an attempt not to let you see the smile that he’s trying to hide, “Don’t you? Stalk me on the internet?”

“Never,” you answer resolutely, thinking blatantly of that night after you’d first met him when you fell down a rabbit hole, spending a good hour watching thirst traps of him on Instagram before coming to your senses, “Not once.”

He hums, unconvinced, “Alright.”

Alright. You make a face, almost stick your tongue out at him but think better of it at the last second. He laughs— giggles— at you. You look away from him, down at your plate, trying to hide the smile that spreads and spreads behind your hair. God, you like him. You’re trying not to let it get away from you. You get the impression that he’s not huge on relationships, and you’re trying hard to be casual about him. It’s difficult— mostly because everything feels so easy when you’re together.

“So,” you start as you push a forkful of salmon and leafy greens around your plate, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m a pescetarian.”

“Um,” Lando asks around a mouthful of half-chewed food, “What’s that mean?”

You stifle a laugh, “Like a vegetarian, but I eat seafood.”

He swallows and makes another face, similar to the earlier one. You can see this is hard for him to process, he clearly dislikes seafood to a degree that you hadn’t quite understood until now. It’s funny. It’s another thing to add to the growing list of reasons you fancy Lando Norris. Though you would think that as a pescetarian you’d want him to like fish, but you suppose by not eating them he’s just saving all the sea animals that you’re not— quid pro quo.

“What about, like,” he waves his fork around, evidently still wondering why you’d eat seafood voluntarily, “just being a vegetarian?”

You shrug, “Vegetables are boring.”

“Right. Better than eating fish though.”

“I like fish.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t get it… It’s— they’re slimy and they smell and they’ve got fucking beady little eyes. It’s not natural.”

“Okay,” you laugh brightly at his despondent expression, “I do need to eat them, unfortunately. Otherwise, I’d probably die of malnutrition, or I dunno, scurvy.”

He groans, hanging his head so that all you can see of his face is that mop of brown curls. You think of your second date when you’d kissed him for the first time in your stairwell and how you’d threaded a hand into it— and they were soft and not heavy with product the way that you hate. The way he’d smelt like expensive cologne and tasted both smokey and sugary at the same time, just like the whiskey and cokes he’d been having at the bar. There’s a soft smile playing at your lips when he finally looks up.

“Does it bother you?” you ask, “That I eat fish.”

He shrugs, shakes his head in a non-committal way that could be either answer and does that little grin again. The one that means he’s going to say something that you’ll find either unbearably cute or embarrassingly funny.

“Yes,” he says, grin not subsiding, “How am I supposed to kiss you when you’ve got fish breath.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and a shocked laugh bubbles from your mouth, you try to ignore the stirring feeling in your gut at the words how am I supposed to kiss you in favour of responding to his lack of tact Try, being the keyword there. It somersaults in your head, how am I supposed to kiss you he said, like he was thinking of doing it again. Which, okay, of course, he’s thinking of doing it again. You understand what this is— but there was an unmistakable fondness there that you just can't shake.

Anyway, you push thoughts of kissing him aside, he’d still accused you of having fish breath, “Wow,” you say dryly, with no malice at all as much as you try to feign it, “You say that to all the girls?”

He blushes, his tan cheeks turning a very pleasant red as he properly realises what he’d said, “Shit. No— oh my god— I’m sorry. I just meant—”

You wave him off, laughing, “I know what you meant. You’re good, Lando.”

“Phew,” he lets out a breath of relief, his nervous laughter punctuating the air between you, without meaning to he says, “God, I thought I’d just fucked it.”

You furrow your brows and frown, confused, “No. You couldn’t.”

You watch him scrub a hand over his face, embarrassed, before it falls away and he gives you a sheepish little grin that says he’s happy to hear that. Toothy, eyes squinted and carving dimples into his cheeks. Your face feels warm and you smile back, biting your bottom lip on the smile so it doesn’t grow and grow to cover your whole face.

Later, after you’ve finished lunch and spent too much time talking over a too-sticky table in your favourite pub, Lando kisses you up against a tree in the park by your apartment. You put your hand in his soft curls and you smell cologne and taste what he’s been drinking as he presses his tongue into yours. The coarse hair of his moustache brushes against your lips and you kiss back with equal gusto. You pull away when it feels like you two are veering into too inappropriate territory for this public park. He chases you, but you laugh softly, pressing a perfunctory closed-mouth kiss to the corner of his mouth. He groans, laughs, and puts his forehead against yours.

You hum, “I guess my fish breath doesn’t bother you so much, huh.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You’re never going to let that go are you.”

You shake your head ever so slightly, “Not as long as I live, Norris.”