#there's a quite a bit from them that fits these two ehe...

[solaestial]

The Sweet Escape - Poets of the Fall

bonus version with fewer color tweaks

[pucksandpower]

Piece of Cake

Lando Norris x McLaren reserve driver!Reader x platonic!Oscar Piastri

Summary: McLaren hands their drivers a blindfold, a pair of headphones, and a roll of duct tape to bake burn a cake … it goes about as well as can be expected

Based on this request

You stroll into the McLaren motorhome, gym bag slung over your shoulder, earbuds in as you listen to your pre-race pump-up playlist. Being the team’s reserve driver is a dream come true — you get to be around the cutting-edge of Formula 1 and some of the brightest minds in motorsport.

And if chance should have it, you could even sub in for one of the race drivers. The thrill of potential sends a tingle down your spine.

As you round the corner, you nearly walk straight into Lando, who’s got his jaw set in that brooding, focused way he gets right before a race weekend. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Y/N! There you are,” he says, a dazzling smile emerging. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You pull out your earbuds. “What’s up? Everything okay for the race?”

He runs a hand through his perfectly tousled hair. “Race? Oh, pfft, who cares about that? We’ve got bigger problems to solve today.”

You raise an eyebrow. Lando has a flair for the dramatic.

He goes on, “We’ve been roped into doing this absolutely mental social media challenge video. Something about … baking? I dunno, to be honest, I stopped listening after they said one of us had to do it blindfolded.”

“Blindfolded?” You repeat, already regretting asking.

That’s when Oscar pops his head out from the kitchen area, hastily re-taping his mouth shut with bright orange duct tape. He flashes you a goofy thumbs up.

“So get this,” Lando continues, not missing a beat, “You’re the blindfolded one. I have to wear noise-canceling headphones so I can’t hear anything. And poor Oscar ...” He gestures over his shoulder at the other driver, who gives an exaggerated shrug. “Can’t speak a word, obviously.”

You look between the two of them, dumbfounded. “And we’re meant to … bake? Like, an actual cake or something?”

“Yep!” Lando says brightly. Too brightly. He claps you on the shoulder. “Should be a right laugh, eh? Let’s get started then!”

And just like that, the chaos begins.

After some shuffling about and giggling fits from the boys, you find yourself standing at the kitchen counter, a thick blindfold secured over your eyes.

You strain your other senses, trying to get your bearings. The hum of the overhead lights, the chemical tang of cleaning products, and was that … vanilla? You give an experimental sniff. Definitely vanilla.

A presence appears at your side and you nearly jump out of your skin when a hand grasps your wrist, guiding your fingers to what feels like … a whisk? Lando leans in close, his cologne surrounding you.

“Okay, I can’t hear myself think in these bloody headphones, but I’m going to talk you through the recipe step-by-step,” he murmurs, warm breath tickling your ear. You shiver involuntarily. “Just, y’know … do whatever feels right, I guess?”

With that enormously unhelpful advice, he releases your wrist and you feel him retreat. You’re flying blind — quite literally.

Then there’s a tap on your other arm. You turn, whisk at the ready, as Oscar’s unmistakable muffled laughter reaches your ears. Of course he’s going to be no help, sealed lips and all.

“Alright guys, very funny,” you say, aiming a withering look somewhere in their general direction though you can’t actually see them. “If I’m meant to be baking something edible out of this mess, you’re going to need to give me a bit more guidance.”

At that, Lando ambles back over, grasping your elbow to steer you somewhere — hopefully towards an actual baking ingredient and not, like, the rubbish bin. A few stumbling, giggle-filled steps later and you’re deposited in front of what sounds like … mixing bowls? Containers? You tentatively reach out a hand.

Your fingers brush over cool ceramic and you let out a relieved breath. Okay, progress. You dip the whisk in exploratorily and feel … something powdery. Flour? You raise it to your face to sniff, but Lando stops you just in time.

“Oi, oi, don’t go getting a lungful of whatever that is!” He laughs, somehow sounding even more handsome when he’s cheerfully chiding you. You bite your lip to stifle a grin.

Things begin to take shape after that, with Lando’s surprisingly not-too-horrible instruction and Oscar’s spirited gesticulating. You quickly work out the basics — butter, sugar, flour, eggs. The wet and dry ingredients get sloppily combined in separate bowls.

All fairly standard baking stuff.

Until, that is, Oscar tries miming out the need for baking soda and you obviously can’t see his dramatic gestures. You have no clue. He positions your hands with frantic motions as you measure out a hilarious amount of the mystery powder into your mixture.

Before long, a questionable batter has been produced. Oscar helps wrestle the cake pans away from you before you can completely muddle everything. The boys shuffle around for a bit, presumably prepping the pans and oven and such.

Then it’s time to pour in the batter. You feel Lando’s sturdy hands again, this time wrapping around yours to guide the bowl’s contents out. Immediately, the thick, lumpy globs start splattering over the sides and onto the counter. Oscar’s choked laughter fills the air. Lando curses under his breath, so close you can feel the rumble of his voice on your back.

Somehow, you all get the pans mostly filled without completely obliterating the kitchen. Oscar takes them to pop in the oven while Lando stays by your side. And that’s when you feel it — his free hand straying to rest on your hip. Reflexively, you lean back against his solid frame. The heat between your bodies builds deliciously.

For a long moment, it’s just the two of you standing there in peaceful suspension, chests rising and falling in tandem. Then Lando leans his head down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You’ve got a bit of … uh, whatever that yellow stuff was in the bowl … just there,” he murmurs, voice low and impossibly alluring.

You inhale shakily. “Yeah? Why don’t you get it for me then?”

There’s the barest hesitation before his lips are on your neck, tongue darting out to lick away the wayward batter. You sag back against him, surrendering to the electrifying sensation. A tiny moan escapes your lips.

God, you want this man.

Just then, the smoke alarm goes off with an ear-splitting shriek, shattering the spell. Lando leaps back like he’s been burned.

“Bollocks! I mean, uh … can’t hear anything, totally oblivious over here!” He makes a show of adjusting his headphones primly.

You snatch off the blindfold finally, blinking against the sudden light. Sure enough, thick grey smoke is billowing out of the oven. Oscar is doubled over wheezing, tears of laughter streaming down his face as he yanks the ruined cake out with oven-mitted hands. The charred remains plop lifelessly onto the counter.

Waving the smoke away, you gape at the pitiful offering. “Well, so much for our baking skills.”

Lando peeks over, coughing exaggeratedly. “What’s that? Did someone say they wanted a follow-along tutorial on how to burn down the motorhome?”

You roll your eyes, trying for a scandalized look but can’t quite fight the grin tugging at your lips. Oscar just loses it again at his teammate’s antics, wiping at his streaming eyes as Lando joins in, shoulders shaking with mirth.

Watching them, deliriously happy despite — or maybe because of — the ridiculous disaster around you, affection blooms in your chest as warm and gooey as the cake should’ve been. The fearless racers, top drivers of a top team, international celebrities … and also just two lovable goofballs who make your heart flip in the silliest of ways.

Their laughter is infectious. You find yourself dissolving into giggles right along with them. At last, Lando slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a loose side hug. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he grins down at you.

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I could go for some proper dessert after that mess,” he says lightly. “My treat?”

Oscar immediately perks up, giving an enthusiastic double thumbs up and nodding vigorously.

You lean into Lando’s warmth, basking in the comfortable closeness. “You read my mind. Let’s get out of here before we burn something else down.”

With one last look at the charcoal brick that was once a cake, Oscar shakes his head ruefully. He strolls over and throws his arms around the two of you, squeezing tightly. For a moment, the three of you just stand there in a tangle of limbs and easy camaraderie, bodies shaking with residual laughter.

Pulling back at last, Oscar flashes you both a mischievous look as he points to his taped mouth, then mimes ripping it off. His silent way of asking if he can finally remove the duct tape obstacle.

“Oh, go on then, you’ve suffered enough,” Lando chuckles, waving a permissive hand.

Quick as a flash, Oscar yanks off the tape with a dramatic flourish, letting out a loud “FREEDOM!” He immediately grimaces, rubbing his jaw. “Oof, that stung a bit.”

“You’ll live, drama queen,” you tease, giving his arm a light shove.

He bumps you back with his hip, grinning impishly. “Well, it was all worth it to witness the two of you in absolute shambles from start to finish.”

Shouldering past you both, Oscar heads for the exit, shooting a roguish wink over his shoulder. “Now are we going to get some edible cake or what? I don’t know about you two, but I worked up an appetite with all the not talking I just did.”

Laughing again, you and Lando trail after him into the sunny paddock, bickering half-heartedly about who torched the baking attempt more thoroughly. A warm breeze riffles through the trees, carrying the scent of race fuel and possibility.

Another typical, wonderfully chaotic day at McLaren. You certainly wouldn’t have it any other way.

[venmondiese]

WEIRD HOBBIES

-ˋˏ| summary: you meet a guy in a bar and decide to go back to his place, as weird as he might seem.

✧ | Pairing: Martin (in the modern world) x reader

✧ | word count: 2.3k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Oral (f/m receiving), 69 position, Martin is weird as hell but a pussy eating champ! Not beta proof<3

“So… what’s your name again?” You ask curiously, walking behind the man that holds your hand, guiding you through his home, and to his bedroom. You don’t complain, though, since you were out just for that; to get home with a handsome man. 

There was this band that you never heard of playing near your house, and it took little for your brain to convince you to go. If something good came from it, you would get fucked. If something bad came from it, well… you hoped for the first one. 

That’s how you ended up here, following a dude, which looks from head to toe like a metal head. His hair goes to his shoulders, coal black, which you assume he dyed it, and some graphic shirt with the words ‘Knotfest’ and all, wearing some metal stuff that you didn’t really know much about.

And you looked like a rock groupie, with a leather top that practically squeezed your tits and a dark jeans miniskirt with some boots. Yet, this mysterious man was still taller than you, and that was quite exciting, and a bit arousing.

“Eh, Martin” he says nonchalantly, as he grabs your hand, his bracelets really end up the detail of his fit, and you feel really horny now to lay with this dude. “Yours?”

You tell Martin your name, following him as he opens his bedroom door. To be fair, it is tidier than you imagined.

“Sorry the mess” he murmurs, moving the drone and an electric guitar out of his bed. You hum, looking around curiously, to the badly positioned posters, some rock-metal bands that you didn’t know about.

“Is that a snake?” You ask, watching the little head of the reptile in the middle of the dim light coming from outside.

“Uh- no, it’s a lizard” 

A guy with a lizard as a pet. Okay.

“What is its name?” 

“Lizard. I don’t like naming them-” 

Great. 

You look at him with a fake smile. The dick better be good you think, taking out your jacket and leaving it on a chair next to the desk.

“Be careful, spider likes to crawl near there”

You took your jacket off there, and you really hoped that he had a dog called spider because otherwise it would be strange as hell.

“Riiiiight” you say, leaving your jacket in a hanger of his opened closet. Whatever. “So… Apart from having a lizard and a spider… do you maybe also have… a cockroach?”

He lets out a huff, his lips turning upwards as he takes his shirt off. “No” Martin says. “I do have another thing, though, it’s very big”

You try to smile at his corny, cringy words. It’s for the dick. You repeat to yourself: The dick better be good. He better not finish in two minutes. He better knows how to eat pussy.

“Ha. Funny” you say as you start to take off those boots.

“How did ya meet the band?”

“Ehmm… A friend dated the brother of an ex of the bassist. I think” you say watching as he frowns his eyebrows slightly trying to make any sense as he lights up a cigarette. 

“ah, nice” he says as he lays on bed as he smokes the cigarette, taking off his shirt as he remains only in those Adidas jeans of his. “Heard the songs before?”

“Once or twice” you say looking at the CD albums stacked on top of each other messily, and you move to grab a solitude piece of paper, as you can practically feel Martin’s eyes on your ass. “I liked the vocalist, quite handsome, don’t you think?” you unwrap softly the paper, away from Martin’s eyes.

It was an address. It piqued your curiosity.

“Aye, come here” his voice is soft as he extends his hand to turn off the cigarette on the glass ashtray, which has the shape of a dragon.

You turn around and walk toward his bed, and watch how he seems eager to have you. It’s hot to have a man drooling for you like Martin is now. And his erection is the living proof of it; it was obvious against his trousers that he was rock hard. You wondered if he was leaking as well. 

You straddle his lap, a smirk forming on your lips as his hands move immediately to your thighs, cold hands moving slowly up to find their way to your ass. 

“Sit on my face” Martin murmurs, words slightly stuck between his pants

“Hm? What was that?” You ask petulantly, pretending not to have heard. 

“Come on, beautiful, sit on my face” he says, pushing your hips closer to his chest, trying to push your miniskirt up.

“Gotta take my panties off” you say softly to him, watching his lips as he licks them, savouring the ghosting taste of you.

“No, like this” he murmurs, eager to taste you. “I’ll eat you from behind even.” Martin proposes, more desperate than the last time “Please”

You might forgive cheesy comments for his eagerness. You sigh with a wide smirk, turning around as Martin places his big hands around your thighs, dragging your centre closer to his face. 

Eager was the wrong word for it; he was desperate.

His hand moved your panties to the side, and his face almost nuzzled your cunt, before starting to press his tongue on your centre. You could hear his groan of pure delight, his hands caressing the skin of your thighs and ass as he delighted himself. 

“Fuck” you said, but it was as if all the air from your lungs when out in that moan. 

Martin’s hands were keeping you still, not allowing you to move your hips to grind his face as you wanted. You could hear his moans, the way he slurped and nuzzled his face on your cunt. 

He was a pro, eating pussy as if he did it every day (maybe he did, god knows), and he didn’t seem to care for his lack of air in the matter. He was on it, devoted to eating your dripping cunt as if it was his last meal on earth.

Your hands are pressed on his stomach, and he has to forcefully let you go to breathe, and you sigh as you feel his breaths. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” You breathe softly, as you can hear how he pants, catching his breath. 

“A good pussy can make a man go feral, love” he says, moving your panties out of the way as his index and middle finger move to rub against your slit. 

He was cheesy, and it was a bit weird. Yet it couldn’t bother you less, you had been with worse men, and Martin was good in other areas…, well, at least in sex and eating out a pussy. And it was more than average, so you were up to it.

Before he decides to keep on eating you, still caressing your clit as he catches his breath, you lean a bit on his torso, to try to pull down the leather pants, opening the zipper. 

It takes you a bit, yet after accomplishing your mission, your hand grabs his dick to guide it into your warm, eager mouth. 

He was well doted, and hard as a rock. He was leaking, and his tip was a bit pink compared with the rest of his cock. 

God damn you if it didn’t make your mouth drool. Between him eating you out, and his leaking cock, you think you will go insane. He could have cheeky, cringe comments but you could live with it. You couldn’t live without him eating you out or his cock. 

You are as enthusiastic with his cock as he is. Though, you start slower. You take the head on your mouth, sucking on it as you feel him groan against your pussy. It was fucking hot, and it had you moaning on his cock. You didn’t remember the last time your legs were trembling like this, and how much you wanted to feel a dick in your throat. It was a need, a primal need.

Martin was kind and nice, had his things, but god, you need to fuck him. You might even need to have his babies by now. You wouldn’t complain if he came all inside you, filling you with his cum, and making you pregnant. Fuck, it even turned you more on. What was this man doing to you?

You took more of his dick in your mouth, trying to take all of it, not minding if you choke on it. He was hot. More than hot, in truth.

Martin was relentless with his tongue, lapping at your cunt again and again, moaning loudly against it as he could feel how deep you were taking his cock in your mouth. Your hand moved to cup his balls, as your tongue tried to swirl around his tip. It drove him insane. 

It was not long before you started to cum, moaning loudly, his dick slipping from your mouth as your thighs pressed against his face, riding his face and nose as he was making you cum. His tongue was as greedy as him, and he worked with his nose along your slit. And it made you cum hard, rolling your eyes back. “Fuck, Martin, just like that…” You say, hips grinding against his mouth in a desperate need to stretch the feeling a bit more. 

And once you finish, your mouth goes back to his cock, to keep on sucking him off. “Fuck, you feel incredible” he rasped, as you moved forward, closer to his cock and have full access, as Martin’s hips pumped upwards to fuck your mouth. 

You lay on his chest, his face back on the pillow, moaning loudly as you seem to try to drain him completely, deepthroating him as if it was nothing at all.

“Fuck, you are going to make me cum” He says, teeth gripped as his hand moves to grab a fist of your hair, to move your head down to allow him fuck your mouth deep as he wanted. His own head titles back in pure bliss and pleasure, moaning loudly as he uses your mouth as a desperate animal in need to cum. Not that you complain, it costs a bit more to breathe, and you were almost choking, but hearing Martin be so local, groaning, moaning and grunting was worth it. 

His cum soon fills your mouth, and he keeps you still, the signal clear for you to swallow all of it, as his throbbing cock unleashed his hot cum. 

“Swallow it… fuck, swallow it all, take what I give you…” he mutters in pure bliss.

As the last drops of cum are licked off his cock, he leans back and you move to his side. 

“That was great” You mutter, looking at the ceiling. How could he be so great at it?

“Yeah. Cig break and round two?”

“Hell yeah”

You are with your friend when you search the location in the paper that you found in Martin’s room. You were supposed to go to the club, you were wearing your miniskirt and a top, really to party, but that man had eaten your pussy and fucked you like no one before, so you felt entitled to find what that was for.

“It’s cold” Your friend, Tamara, says. She was chewing gum as she followed you begrudgingly. 

“It’s a fucking parking lot?” You ask looking around the empty street, the night made it lonely yet not totally isolated. 

“Your darling buries the bodies here” Your friend says, obviously judging it all. “Can we go?”

“Look, there is a car” you point out, as the car seems to be jumping around due to the movements inside. “Gods, you think they are having sex?”

“Ew, you think he has a brothel in his car?” Tamara asks you, looking at the car as you both get closer. “Eww and you fucked without a condom… You could get an IST, and die”

“It is called an STD, and… I think he is not fucking anyone” you frown slightly, getting closer.

“Careful! What if his pimp is here…?”

“He is fighting someone!” You say looking inside the car, as you find Martin pressing the head of the other guy against the window. 

Surely, Martin was a weird dude. He was corny as hell, and he had pets called like the species they were. Sure. He almost burned his hair as he smoked after sex, yes; and he also ate pussy like a champ and was hung as a horse. 

“I am going there” You tell your friends. “The dick is worth it”

“Yikes” 

As you walk closer, you feel your friend either staying behind or walking away, not that you care. 

Martin had blood trailing down his forehead, and was lying in the passenger’s seat as his thighs choked the other guy he was with, holding his head still with his hands. Okay, whatever, a guy can have hobbies.

When he sees you, he starts rolling down the window of the car, as you lean closer to his height.

“Hey, darling- how did ya–”

“A girl has her secrets” you say, smiling as you see him. God, he was sexy as hell. “I want my pussy eaten” 

Martin smirks, and he leans back to sigh at your request, as if the idea delights him. He still applies pressure to the other dude, who seems to pass out. Martin leans forward closer to your lips and whispers “Will ya’ wait ten minutes as I finish with this round?”

“Three” You bargain.

“Seven.”

“Three”

“Five and I’ll make you cum twice.” His final offer, and the time you had in mind. Offering lower than one wants always seems work to get your official deal, even with an extra.

“Deal” you accept with a smirk. 

And what if he was fighting inside a car? You fancied Martin, and sure as hell he fancied you. Even if he has weird hobbies. 

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Like Mother, Like Daughter

After that angst, here's something less angsty...

Let me know what you think about this one! Do you guys prefer fluff or angst?

Pairings: katie mccabe x child reader Warnings: a child being a menace to soceity

You were your mam's mini-me in every sense of the world, from your brunette hair to your own determined demeanor, you were the exact replica of your mammy, and even at a young age, just like Katie, you had a fierce spirit that couldn't be contained.

It was a sunny afternoon in London for a change and deciding to make the most of it, your mam and you decided to take a trip down to the local park to try and burn some of your energy off before it was time to settle down for the night.

Arriving at the park, you were quite happy to join in with the other kids' a bit older than you as you raced around with them, being indepenant that Katie was able to just keep a watchful eye on you from the nearby park bench.

However, it wasn't all too long before trouble approached, when a kid just that bit older than you were, started to make rude comments about you that you just weren't going to stand for.

Without missing a beat, you stepped forward with your tiny fists clenched at your side, "You take dat' back!" you demanded, your voice filled with righteous indignation.

The kid kept on goeding you and before Katie could step in and intervene, you had already launched yourself at them, your punch landing with surprising accuracy for someone so small.

"Y/N!" Katie gasped in shock, rushing towards you to scoop you up into her arms and pull you away from the situation.

"Let me ave' him, mammy!" Your small voice demanded, pounding your tiny fists on your mams' back as you weren't ready to back down just yet, "I can fight him, mammy. I can ake' him!" You insisted.

"No, no, kiddo. We don't hit other people" Katie chided, trying to stifle her own amusement and remembering the fact that she was a responsible parent in this moment, "You need to apologise and say sorry now, please" she motioned to the kid, who was just that bit older than you.

"M' not sorry, he made fun of my accent" You whined pitifully, you never liked it when people made fun out of you, but you were strong enough to hold your ground, "Ou' always told me to stick up for myself, mammy!" you insisted.

It was moments' like this when Katie was in sudden realisation that she couldn't very well tell you off when she was known to get into a few scraps herself on the pitch and you'd been witness to some of them.

After profuseley apologising to the little lad and his mum who wasn't best pleased about it, the two of you left the park in silence.

"I beat him! I beat him!" You boasted happily, running through the front door as you burst into a fit of giggles.

Katie shook her head in amusement, she knew she should discorauge the behaviour but she also couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, "You did, kiddo" she chuckled, "You definitely your ma's girl, eh? Like mother, like daughter" she joked.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[harunayuuka2060]

Riddle: *came to Ramshackle dorm to apologize to Granny for bumping into her earlier*

Grandma MC: Oh son, didn't I tell you that it's fine? *smiling kindly to him*

Riddle: Yes. However, I would feel extremely guilty if I didn't do anything.

Grandma MC: What do you suggest we do then?

Riddle: I will accept any form of disciplinary action that you see fit.

Grandma MC: I see.

Grandma MC: I happen to need a pair of hands in the kitchen. *smiles*

Riddle: *is peeling potatoes*

Grandma MC: You are good at this. *chuckles*

Riddle: *clears throat* *feeling a bit embarrassed* This isn't a hard task.

Grandma MC: You think so? I asked Ace to peel potatoes once and nothing left out of the potatoes.

Grandma MC: And we ended up turning them into chips instead. *laughs heartily*

Riddle: ...

Riddle: *smiles* By the way, Granny. I never heard from the headmage that you wished to go home.

Grandma MC: Because there's no one waiting for me at home, son.

Riddle: Huh? Why?

Grandma MC: My children and grandchildren all live in faraway places, fulfilling their goals and dreams. *smiles*

Riddle: That... That's quite sad, Granny...

Grandma MC: Oh *chuckles* I know that seems a bit lonely for anyone that will hear it. But as long as they're happy, I am more than fulfilled.

Riddle: ...

Grandma MC: We should keep up in peeling these potatoes.

Riddle: Y-Yes...

Riddle: I... I never expected that I would be able to make my own pasta.

Grandma MC: It's quite rewarding, isn't it?

Riddle: Y-Yes. Thanks to you, Granny.

Cater: *walks in* Granny~! Is the food ready? I'm starving!

Trey: Don't mind him, Granny. *chuckles*

Cater and Trey: *sees Riddle* Eh?

Riddle: ...

Riddle: What are you two doing here?

Cater and Trey: ...

Cater: *to Trey* I told you Riddle would be next.

Trey: *nods*

Riddle: What?

Kalim: Granny! You should visit us in Scarabia! There'll be plenty of food for you!

Grandma MC: Thank you. *chuckles* But my diabetes.

Jamil: Don't worry, Granny. I'll serve you healthy food.

Grandma MC: That is reassuring. *smiles*

Ruggie: I like the one Granny cooked.

Riddle: What? Is there a problem with mine?

Ruggie: Yours doesn't taste home. Shyeheehee!

Riddle: *frowns*

Jack: I think Riddle-senpai's tastes just fine.

Trey: Right. It is delicious.

Cater: Sure, Trey. But you've been getting food from Granny's pot.

Trey: It's the one nearer.

Grim: *snatches the pot*

Cater and Trey: Hey!

Riddle: *laughs*

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Cursed Warlords Au - Chapter #10 - Planning

You and Spirit need to figure out what you’re doing. All the while you figure out how to wear the hanfu you were gifted.

“I don’t know… are you sure this is right?” You asked while struggling helplessly with the wrapping of your new hanfu.

The hanfu was beautiful, wrapping around your body surprisingly well. It wasn’t a perfect fit, possibly a size too big but then again it was a gift from someone who didn’t really know you. You shouldn’t be surprised. Now if only you could figure out how to properly tie this thing.

“… no I think you have it on backwards,” Spirit chuckled from her seat in the bed. Both of the monkeys sat next to her giving quiet chirps, though you weren’t sure if they were talking to each other or at you.

Looking down at the outfit you scowled when you realized that yes, you did have it on backwards. Your face flushed red before you spun around and glared at your friend. Your friend who was giggling but not offering to help.

“Well then would you be so kind as to help?” you asked, your cheeks still flushed.

Spirit quirked and eyebrow up before shrugging as she stood up. “How do you not know how to do the simplest of things?” She muttered as she helped out of the backwards hanfu.

You stood still for a moment as she tugged and pulled at the fabric, doing her best to correct how you messed up the outfit. It took some maneuvering but eventually you were dressed in the hanfu. It was clearly made for travel which you were grateful for even if you weren’t quite sure why the woman gave it to you. Maybe it was pity. Maybe she understood that you needed help. Whatever the case you were very grateful.

“What do you think?” you asked Spirit nervously once you were finally dressed properly.

A simple hanfu colored black with orange sashes to connect everything together. You weren’t sure how to feel about the coloring but it was still beautiful. Tugging on the fabric a bit you also decided it looked like good quality.

“Not bad. The coloring is shit but eh,” Spirit replied as she plopped down on the bed.

*Chirp?*

You both looked to Plum who tilted his head in confusion. It was adorable! Seriously he was just the cutest thing. You didn’t even bother holding back your squeal.

“I think he wants to know about the color,” Spirit muttered before looking at you with a worried expression. The look was quickly pushed away as you leaned forward.

“Well you see when I was dragged here I came through a portal that swirled with orange and black. It’s not the coloring per say it’s just the memories attached to it,” you explain, if you couldn’t tell two monkeys about it, then who could you talk to about it? Spirit already knows because she saw the portal and she knows that you’re scared of the portal, even though you’re trying to find another.

You smiled widely even though every bit of you was terrified, terrified of going back to that place, terrified to even know what that place was. Maybe it wasn’t bad you weren’t really sure but the moment you had fallen into the portal you felt a rush of something strange, something strong, something wild run right through your very soul. A blur of orange and black and then well then you were with Spirit.

Thinking back on it maybe you shouldn’t be heading straight for something that you had no idea what it was. Maybe going to that place was a bad idea, maybe you could be sent somewhere even worse than where you are now… but if you didn’t try then you would NEVER be able to return home. Right?

*Chirp?*

Glancing to the monkey cubs you smiled, both of them looked confused as hell. Both half draped over the side of the bed as they waited for you to explain. Explain what you were talking about, but you didn’t. You didn’t explain and instead chose to be quiet as you looked yourself over one more time.

“We got everything?” You asked patting yourself down.

“Clothes check, Spirit check, Peaches check, Plums check, and me!” You grinned before face palming, the sheer lack of equipment between the ‘four’ of you was rather depressing.

It was fine, even though you didn’t have barely anything to travel with you were determined to figure this out. With a deep breath you looked at Spirit who was half laying on the bed while her feet were firm on the ground.

”Let’s go,” You grinned happily.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Spirit asked calmly.

You looked at her and frowned, looking around the room you were sure you had everything you needed. There wasn’t anything missing, and everything was how you found it. So what could you be-

“Where are we even going?” Her words hit you like a brick, where WERE you going.

You had spent the last two days resting at the inn and the three days before that running away from bandits. In all that time you never stopped to consider where you two even needed to go. Your face scrunched up slightly as you thought, you weren’t sure when you sat down but here you were sitting on the floor while trying to think of a plan. You needed to find somewhere that could return you home, well maybe not somewhere but someone or something?

“I don’t know… do you know anyone who knows how to travel through dimensions? Or time? Or space? I think I’m from another dimension but I might be from the future,” You waved your hands to act spooky not noticing the looks of surprise on both of the small monkeys faces.

Another dimension? The future? What in the world were you talking about? You couldn’t possibly be from… it would explain your clothing and the slight accent in your voice. No, no that doesn’t explain anything at all! You were a mere mortal who is probably just from some far off place on the mainland who happened to fall into a demon’s trap. Surely that had to be the case, Wukong thought to himself.

However when he looked at his mate, his very rational mate who always thought things through, he didn’t find the exact same answer that he came up with. His mate was looking at you with wide eyes, his ears slightly fanning out a little bit but the longer they remained fanned out the more his scowl deepened. Surely Macaque didn’t actually believe this nonsense, you were just a mortal who had gone a little crazy from running into a demon.

“Okay so first we need to find out where you’re actually from, so we need to find someone who is able to get ahold of that knowledge… I have one person in mind but…” Spirit trailed off her face scrunching up a little bit as she tried to think of any way NOT to see this person.

“But what?” You asked way too quickly for her liking, and with far too much excitement.

“She doesn’t like humans, like AT ALL,” She nervously chuckled as she looked away.

Almost immediately you deflated a little bit, so the one clue you had to going home didn’t want to see you. The only clue that you have gotten in the five days you’d been here. Biting your lip you thought about it, you had to think this through. If she didn’t like humans it might be best not to interact but it was also the only way for you to find a way home.

“Will she kill me?” it was one thing if she just disliked humans but if there’s a chance that she won’t kill you, then maybe you can get her to listen.

Spirit thought for a moment pursing her lips as she contemplated weather this person would kill you. She didn’t seem one hundred percent sure weather she would or not. But maybe…

“She probably won’t try to kill you, but it’s doubtful that she would listen to you either,” Spirit explained, her face still pinched in a frown.

You decided to think some more she wouldn’t listen to you… bit Spirit was a demon. Maybe she would listen to her. It was a possibility and so far it was the closest thing you had to an actual lead. So with the decision made you looked up at your friend and declared.

“Let’s go meet her. It’s worth a shot, and the only clue I have to getting home,” you tried not to look so nervous.

Spirit stared at you for a moment, her eyes going wide at your announcement. You… you wanted to see her? Was that smart? She opened her mouth to speak when you continued quickly. “I can at least try. We don’t have any other leads and I need to get home… my family is probably worried sick.”

Wukong tilted his head, your family probably thought some demon ate you. He couldn’t help but think that they probably thought you were already dead. You were seriously going a little crazy, it probably wasn’t safe to be around you… but they didn’t really have much choice at this point.

Macaque narrowed his eyes. He was still deep in though trying to think of what you were talking about. Maybe you were confused or crazy… but there was the possibility that you were telling the truth. If you were then would you try to take them back to your world? Would you leave him and Wukong here? He let out a scoff, maybe it would be easier to leave… or they could find another monkey demon they could talk to. But how?

“So who is this woman you’re talking about anyways?” you asked curiously.

Spirit remained silent for a moment before speaking, “She’s a monkey demon, I’d say the only one that I’ve ever met. She lives roughly a weeks journey away but with your speed it might take two or three weeks. She’s stubborn and if she doesn’t like you she won’t help you, but if you can get her to like you then maybe MAYBE she’ll help. I I use can’t guarantee it.”

A monkey demon!? They would be able to find a way home if you agree to meet with her. Wukong immediately let out excited chirps, they could contact their friends this way. His sudden noise shocked you causing you to look over at him. Your eyes widened before you laughed.

“I see someone wants to meet her. Animals tend to have good intuition most of the time, maybe we should go,” you chuckled before looking at Spirit who pursed her lips more at his sudden attentiveness. She didn’t trust that he had good intentions, there was something about these monkeys if only she could just put her finger on what.

She glanced at the monkeys and sent them a slightly cold glare which was met with an equally cold one from the white monkey. His single set of ears flicked, her eyes were drawn to them and it irked her just how much he seems aware. Most monkeys were aware of the people surrounding them just not this much.

“Hey leave the cub alone,” You said as you reached out and lifted the Monkey into your arms, the other immediately climbing up your body to your shoulder.

‘We’re not cubs! We are powerful warlords!!’ Peaches chirped angrily, which was only met with a cheerful coo from you.

‘Give it up you know she can’t understand you,’ Plum responded as he leisurely laid in your arms like a hammock.

Spirit raised a brow before rolling her eyes. “Yeah yeah, protect the cub and not your friend,” She said dramatically lifting her hand to her head.

“… you don’t need my protection, you’ve proven that enough,” You replied with a chuckle before rolling your eyes.

“Have I? Last I checked you’re the one who saved my life from those bastards,” The sheer venom in Spirit’s voice was a shock to both Wukong and Macaque. Sure they had heard her annoyance and her sarcasm but here the sheer amount of malice in her tone was… outstanding.

“… I’d say watch your language buuut… yeah they were bastards,” You nodded before going silent, your mind wandering back to that day. It wasn’t even that long ago.

I finished chapter 10!! I have officially hit the double digits with this fanfic! Am I the only one excited? Yes… No? Who knows.

As always Feel Free to Reblog. Like and comment if you can. Comments are a writers food! Well not really, I just love reading them! I love to hear people’s thoughts on my fanfic. Esspecially since this is currently my main fanfic. I am still working on asks and such, work just likes to mandate working the weekends… it sucks. But I hope you all enjoy!

[rhythm-the-raptor-creations]

Funny things happen when two hyperfixations cross paths, so I present to you:

Malevolent: Wings of Fire AU

VAGUE SPOILERS FOR THE FIRST TWO SEASONS

Closeups and yapping under the cut, with (hopefully) enough relevant details about WoF to make sense if you’re not familiar with it; not much the other way around to avoid explicit spoilers (and because the setting is mostly just. 1930s US), go listen to it it’s good :>

(I already have several more sketches, so there WILL be more parts and that is a threat)

I’m not sure whether I want the setting to be more Malevolent or more WoF, so for now I’m presuming the more medieval-esque WoF cause dropping 1930s items in is easier than taking them out if I change my mind

Arthur is a SkyWing so he can:

breathe fire, which makes a decent replacement for a gun and the lighter (though I’m considering giving him something animus-touched (magical) instead to preserve the symbolism, and also talking might be a problem when you’ve got a mouth full of fire lol)

fly very well; to make it a bit more fun, John takes his wing instead of his foot (as it would be a bit redundant considering WoF dragons typically walk on all fours)

withstand cold weather better than most tribes; he should have died of hypothermia several times and you can’t convince me otherwise

His dragon name was a struggle, mainly because nothing sounded right in John’s voice; I’m not completely happy with Condor either, but it’s better than anything else I could think of

John’s name stems from the fact that Eagle is a common SkyWing name (we have two known in canon, which only happened like three times, aside from one very specific situation that’s not relevant here lmao), so it works quite well as a John Doe equivalent; tacked on Golden because that’s just too perfect for him

Kayne is a NightWing mainly because they can have mind reading and prophetic powers, and the star-like scales on their inner wings fit the vibe pretty well imo (not really visible here but eh); I gave him the teardrop scales behind eyes that signify mind-readers too. Aside from his eyes he’s completely greyscale, to make him just sliiightly off-looking next to other dragons

The King in Yellow is basically the same as I would draw him normally lol, just vaguely more dragon-shaped

[hallowmoon-art]

TS DEMO UPDATE!!!

Spoilers ahead!

Edits in blue now that I've had more time to sit and process everything

WHERE DID MY HOUND GO!?!? MY BABY!?!

I mean I'm not completely surprised. The Hound seemed to be the least picked background. I actually like the new origin. The insight on how the Soulless' act is so interesting, and MC seems to have better survival skills.

But a heads up on that big of a change would have been nice. 😭

BUT ANYWAY

AISSSS, MY BELOVED

AND YALL

SLAMS MY FIST ON THE TABLE MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

I AM ON MY HANDS ANS KNEES

Ais didn't have much changed at all, but the little extra fed me for life. He's already perfect 😌

2. Vere

LOVE the new changed to Vere's dialogue and 101 scene. Hoping for more chances to jerk him around by that collar of his. 😈

The more "softness" of Vere makes a lot of sense to me. When MC first meets him - he grabs MC by the arm and does his eye thing, he seems surprised by what we are rather than indifferent. Even saying that he underestimated MC. So it would make a little more sense for him not to scare them off just yet. Plus it makes him seem more like a viable LI than a pure threat.

3. Kuras

GORGEOUS new background art of the river bank! Idk if it's just me, but I feel like I can see the halo in his eyes better in close up sprites.

Not much changed with Kuras either, if any thing. So if you noticed something, please tell me bc I think I missed it. 😓 Other than his red choice.

4. Leander

I still wanna pop this fucker in the mouth with a bat. But his new 101 scene was a major improvement. A bit disappointed that the bartender didn't as quite as obviously rat him out on his hoe ass tendencies. lol

Love the new name change from Bloodhounds to The Adderstone. Adderstone sounds more... proper(?) rather than a gang name, and Leander wants the best image he can have. Not sure why the 'As Above, So Below' was taken from his posters, but eh.

Leander's really taking advantage of MC's weak mental state. Which deep in my core, I hate, but it makes so much sense.

5. Mhin

Loved how they talked more about the Soulless anatomy. More ✨CrUUUUMbSS✨ for my weary soul.

I feel like the extra knowledge the Exile has of the Soulless sets it up where more than just the Alchemist can work with Mhin. I think the Alchemist origin is still the only way to get Mhin's red choice, but even though the Exile doesn't know the technical terms, they are just a little more on par with Mhin and Vere. The hound just had no advantages with those two, and didn't seem like it could fit with Kuras much either. The world building seems like it's really about to come into focus.

[cythiraeth]

cupid's chokehold! - i. e. the moment genshin men knew they've fallen for you

✧ ─ ⌑ pairing: gn!reader x al-haitham, cyno, xiao (separate)

✧ ─ ⌑ short summary: the exact moment (or process which lead to it) when genshin men knew that they are head over heels in love with you!

✧ ─ ⌑ about the work: lowercase, fluff, not proof-read, lighter (?) and more free form of the work this time!

✧ ─ ⌑ notes: ehe, long time no see! i'm back to life and posting, so to start i picked something that was easier to write and is slightly in a different form than my previous works, however, i hope you'll like it :> also, i'm still waiting for any work requests, so if you have any idea, feel free to messege me!!

+ link to second part :☆ (featuring lyney, kaveh, childe)

and my genshin impact masterlist: ☆

✧ ─ ⌑ word count: 1.5 k in total

 al-haitham

seeing you in a pretty, elegant outfit, probably some kind of dress or suit, maybe showing your collarbones or it just being mesmerizing,  it's up to you how you imagine a perfect fit ;) he is just PHYSICALLY UNABLE to take his eyes off you! the usually calm and collected al-haitham forgets how to use the ability to speak for a brief second.

the moment you left the room in which you were getting ready as he was waiting outside, he almost gasped out loud

i mean literally, this man's brain stopped working for a second

you two were supposed to attend tighnari's birthday party, and while he didn't consider it a occasion to wear something elegant, you did the opposite 

that's why he was left so speechless. because he was caught by surprise! he thought you would wear your casual clothes just as he did…

but it happened, you wore one of your favorite outfits for special occasions, and he was flabbergasted 

of course it's not like your look was the only reason he has fallen for you! he was definitely considering it many times before this happened, but he was living in denial.

"no, i don't actually have feelings for them. they make me feel comfortable, i crave hearing their voice or laugh and i care about them a lot, but no, we're just friends" - probably al-haitham to himself at some point in his life.

but this time, he couldn't explain his feelings in any rational way known to man. you were so stunning that his eyes shined uncontrollably when he laid them on you. he was so busy studying your silhouette, your face and your hair that he didn't even hear your first question, which was:

"and? how do i look?" you asked, opening the door but still keeping your hands on the doorframe and leaning on it. you were slightly blushed because it was quite embarrassing to let him see you like this, but if you were to be honest, you were also a little bit excited to see his reaction

so when he didn't even answer you and remained indifferent on the outside, the slightly raised corners of your mouth drooped

you just weren't aware of what he's been experiencing on the inside…

because his heart started pounding a little bit faster and he was ashamed of it but on the other hand you looked gorgeous and he couldn't stop himself from thinking about what would he do if you were in relationship

(he had such a strong urge to kiss your hand like a gentleman for some reason)

"what? do i really look that bad?" you asked after you have swallowed the bitterness of your first impression

"sorry?" he said, blinking, your words drawing him out of his reverie, "did you say something?" 

you snorted, annoyed by his behavior, assuming that he probably couldn't care less about your look at the moment, but at least he should try to pretend he does 

but oh, how wrong you were…

when you repeated the question he only murmured something under his breath in response, so you decided to let him be

you noticed he got sweaty all of sudden, it was probably too hot for him inside, you thought, so you took the last things and you two left the house.

in reality, he wasn't feeling hot because of the temperature of course, but he was just as surprised by his own actions as you were. surprised in a slightly different way though….

cyno

talking with tighnari... he found all his confidence to talk to him about his possible feelings for you, that he could not recognize and tighnari was left speechless because of how innocent and lost in his feeling cyno looked

he was probably hanging out with tighnari someday, maybe they went out for a dinner, and somehow the topic of conversation has come down to you

for a long time he was hesitant to talk about his feeling towards you out loud but today he decided he'd try discussing it with his friend

because if not tighnari then who would be a suitable person? surely not you 

also, don't think that he was aware of what he's feeling. HAHA, no. he would never 

"what in your opinion y/n thinks of me…?" was his first question. he tried to choose the words carefully and say it in his normal tone but even a small sign of arousal in his voice was enough for tighnari to notice that something is up

"and why are you asking?" he wanted to make sure that his interpretation is right

"no reason in particular," his answer was quick, those words escaped his lips uncontrollably, so he had to add something "i just consider them a close friend and i want to know if they do too."

tignari almost started laughing out loud, but he controlled himself.

close friend? oh man, he is so clueless…

"are you sure that they are a "close friend?"" he was actually having some fun but at the same time he just wanted to smack himself on the forehead, he couldn't decide 

"well, definitely not a "distant friend"" 

that's it, that's the moment when tighnari smacked his forehead 

"i'll pretend i didn't hear that," he tried to be serious, but it wasn't easy. "listen, you look at them like they are your entire world. that's the kind of look people give to their lovers, not close friends!" he finally said it out loud

cyno had to blink twice to process what was just said.

he. in love. with you? 

maybe? i mean, he always cared about your opinion about his jokes the most and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with you… but he thought that it's normal for friends to feel this way. and to steal glances at you person when you aren't looking, and to read every book you recommend him…

"you say so?" he finally asked, resting his chin on his hands "then maybe you're right," he admitted out loud

"FINALLY" tighnari couldn't hold it any longer… he was SO relieved that his friend won't be acting like he is running around in the fog anymore… right?

"and why are you so emotional about it?" cyno was genuinely confused (pls help this man he is often so clueless)

"because by now even collei knew"

xiao

 when you kept coming back after all of his attempts to push you away. he wanted to protect you, protect you from him, because for a human it would be better to stay away from his karmic debt, right? but when you remained determined to get closer to him no matter how many times he tried to disencourage you, he slowly realized that maybe, just maybe he can let you get closer to his heart than he ever let anyone to be.

in his case, there wasn't any particular situation that made him realize his feelings, it was rather a complex and long process (not really a chokehold then but shh…)

he knew you for several months despite of his numerous attempts of cutting any ties he had with you

it was just that… you were stubborn. but not in a regular way, no. your stubbornness was much less invasive and annoying, and it manifested in your constant willingness to get closer to him

however, you never imposed yourself nor did you try convincing him! you were just visiting wangshu inn regularly, maybe tried striking up a conversation a few times, even just sitting in silence was enough for you

and because of all those actions he never felt overwhelmed by your presence! actually, after some time, he just got used to it and secretly started liking it

however, there was always this silent voice in the back of his head that he shouldn't be doing this and that he's forgetting himself

so definitely, when he slowly started thinking of you in that way at the very beginning he was IN SUCH A BIG DENIAL that it's almost unbelievable 

alright, he admitted it to himself, but swore to N E V E R talk to anyone about it, especially and above all, to you.

he just decided to act as if those feelings didn't exist, that's all. and it went like that for quite a long time unfortunately… (at least you can be sure that he keeps his promises at all costs!!)

and after some time, when he was surprised that they didn't just go away, a certain thought crossed his mind…

he started thinking about what ifs and imagining what could happen if he theoretically decided to tell you about his feelings 

(he spent another few months on that though)

at some point he just couldn't look at you without seeing you both holding hands in his mind or stand next to you without the urge to put his hand on your shoulder (of course only in private, he would never do pda…)

but still, his karmic debt… 

he was so torn between those two thoughts (there were two wolves inside of him)

but as you expect, after months of his internal struggling, and your consistency in getting closer to him and encouraging him to open up, he let his feelings win for once in his long life

(take good care of him because he deserves it)

⌞⌑ cythiraeth - 23.11.2023. please, do not copy, claim as yours or share outside tumblr! ⌑⌝

[leviathanleva]

Sugar Bomb

Pairing: Findlay 'Hazard' Docherty x Fem!Reader

Description: A night of drinking ultimately culminates in Hazard speaking before thinking and shifting the mood drastically.

[2k words]

Chapter 2

“Pherple burlgr – Aw fahck off, hen.”

You snort and thrust yourself back into the old couch. Your eyes twinkle mischievously as you stare up at Hazard with a drunken smile and a bottle of cider in hand.

“Come on, Haz, you can do it.” You say through a fit of giggles before straightening up in your seat and resting a hand over his large bicep. “Purple Burglar Alarm. Say it, you can do it, I believe in you, doofus.”

It was a night like any other. The whole group had gathered up in what you called the living room, seated in various places as you can Hazard had sprawled on the couch with Maisie and left no room for others. BoomSlang had brought cassettes of beer and cider to celebrate a mission gone right and so everyone who wasn’t an omnic was indulging.

The dim lights and purple neon signs hung in various corners around the room cast a comfortable atmosphere. Touch-Up was tapping away at her pad while casually sipping on a beer, reclining in her desk chair as the countless monitors mounted on the wall basked her in a soft blue hue. JackDaw and Suzie were busy at the pool table, but if one took the time to inspect them, they’d realize the two were eavesdropping on you verbally bullying Hazard.

A steady stream of rock music was coming from the speakers and the Scotsman had played his guitar along with it until you’d dared him to say that innocent combination of words.

Now he was stuck scrunching his face while you bit down on your bottom lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

“Pherple bur…Pheeerp – ” He tried again after wetting his mouth with his fifth beer. “Pherpre – Blah.” He stuck his tongue out and shook his head like a mutt. “Eh fahck you. I ain’t doin’ it.”

It’s then that you finally notice the tattoo peaking between his teeth, embedded into the softness of his tongue. You lean forward instinctively and squint your eyes.

“You have a tongue tat, Haz?”

“Ye? Y’ never knew?” The man tilts his head to the side, blinking at you slowly. He marvels silently at how well the light bounced off the silky skin on your face, the healthy shine of your freshly washed hair, the way your oversized sweater slid off one shoulder and exposed your flesh for him to drool over. Whether it was the alcohol or infatuation, he wasn’t quite sure, but the buzz of the beer was making his thoughts bolder than usual, strange even, leaning towards possibilities he hadn’t considered before. Like the way the gloss on your lips looked so edible. And the smell of soap coming off you made him want to slump on top of you and take a snooze. The fact that your thigh unintentionally rubbed against his had always brought him joy before, now it was pure torture.

“I…well, no. I don’t tend to stare at your tongue.” You laugh nervously and rest a cold hand on your cheek to keep it from heating up at the implication, squint your eyes and dart them to your drink instead of his smirk.

“Maybe ya should.”

You nearly choke on your cider at that, thrust a fist into your chest to clear the liquid from your throat.

Hazard leans down, a mountain of a man, made of bulks of muscle and metal, completely dwarfing you under his shadow. He sticks out his tongue wordlessly and you shuffle closer to look at the tattoo, close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath and the heat radiating off him like steam.

Your fingers twitch with the need to cascade over the ink, but you stifle your inappropriate want, for fear of making things uncomfortable. That’s the last thing you wanted after working so hard to earn Hazard’s trust, the thought of him pulling away was terrifying. And so you restrain yourself, but he’s not a stupid man, he notices and he leans even closer, until your noses are almost touching.

All sounds drown out, everyone and everything melts away until it’s just you and him. You swallow thickly, eyes big and watery and curious as you stare and dare yourself to come closer. He’s intoxicating, you can imagine the light stubble on his chin grazing your soft skin as you press your lips to his and wrap your arms around his thick neck, intending to never let go.

Smoke lingers in the air from a cigarette lit somewhere, the glare of the ceiling lamp dances in his honeyed orbs like magic, they look molten, drinkable. You’re bewitched and what feelings you had been suppressing and blaming on him for saving your life burst like a bonfire in your chest. His shadow suffocates your whole being, yet makes you feel safe at the same time.

It’s overwhelming how much you simultaneously want to lunge forward and run away.

“I think love you.”

That thought surfaces in your mind, pure-hearted, truthful, for at that moment you mean every word yet refuse to mold your lips and speak that little secret lest you ruin the enchantment. Your stomach tightens, then expands unbearably with fluttering butterflies; you’re a teen all over again, standing in front of your crush and fumbling for words.

You listen to his even breaths, feel the couch cushions dip as he languidly shifts his weight.

“Tell me you love me too…”

Then he grins and licks the tip of your nose.

Excuse me, w –

“Hazaaard!” You wail and pull back abruptly, wiping at your nose as you close your eyes for a moment to escape the humiliation. “You freak!”

And just like that, the spell over your heart is broken and everything is back to normal. Your pulse still leaps in the side of your neck, but you can easily blame that on the brute startling you. His laughter rings in your ears and you groan in protest before slumping against the armrest of the couch, embarrassed and annoyed.

Talk about a mood killer…

“Ya got tha’ right, daftie!” He booms and despite your irritation, you snort and wave him off with a look of mock insult.

You hear the coughed giggles coming from different ends of the living room and end up having to massage your temples to stay calm as a scoff slips past your pulled-back upper lip.

“Haha, so funny.” You sop and sulk further in your seat, staring daggers into the backs of anyone who dared to peek at you from behind their shoulder. “I’m dying of laughter.”

“Suits you right for bullying the poor bloke” You scold yourself internally.

You curl up and tuck your knees to your chest to continue your display of sullenness at the ruined opportunity by the fiery Scotsman, but it doesn’t last long. He pats your back and you know he tried his best to be gentle, but with your difference in size and his being drunkenly uncoordinated, he nearly toppled you off the couch.

A small gasp escapes you as you dig your nails in the armrest to steady yourself and slip your feet to the floor in case his brutish affection comes back for a second round.

“Awww I’ll make it up t’ ya, bonnie. Listen, listen heare.” He waves a finger to catch your eye and wraps his cybernetic hand around your arm, tugging you closer to get a better look at your face. His eternal grin shines on you like a spotlight even now as he composes himself as much as a drunk man can, clears his throat, and absentmindedly rubs circles into your oversized sweater. Whether that’s to calm you down because he sees the anxious bunny look morphing your features or to stifle his excitement is anyone’s guess. “An bpósfaidh tú mé?”

You bat your lashes dumbly at him and cock your head in confusion.

“Uuuh…what?”

It’s then that you notice the room has gone deathly silent – there’s no more clinking of bottles and cue balls being chucked from one end of the pool table to the other, even Maisie’s stopped her squirming, having picked up on the drastic shift in mood. You glance back and note that all eyes are on Hazard who seems to be oblivious to both the silence and the attention he’s gained. He’s focused solely on you and beyond his cocky and friendly smirk you can detect a hefty amount of seriousness lingering.

He’s still rubbing circles in your flesh with his calloused thumb, waiting patiently for your answer to a question you didn’t even understand.

“Am I missing something?” You turn to Susie for guidance but she’s deep into a facepalm and even if her omnic faceplate is unchanging you can tell she’s fighting off a certain amount of disappointment.

What the hell had just happened?

“Oookay, Haz, think you had enough to drink. Time for bed.” BoomSlang slides off the edge of the pool table and approaches the sofa with her plump lips formed into a pitying smile. She stands high and mighty before Hazard and you, with hands on her hips and a combative expression when she sees the Scotsman has no intention of moving an inch.

“Ah, come on!” He all but whines in protest and lets you go to slouch back into the sofa with a grunt “I’m just askin’ mah hen – ”

“ – Bed. Now.” She demands with a warning edge to her tone and kicks his foot lightly, trying to get him out of whatever rebellious mood he’s in. When that did little to sway him, she sighed before bending down, closer to him, and softening her manner. “Come on, big man.” She wraps her hands around his forearm and pulls him to his feet with a huff before tossing you a brief apologetic look. “Up you go.”

Dumbfounded, you watch BoomSlang lead the drunken Scotsman out of the room, practically dragging him out by the arm as he puts up a mild fuss and cusses softly under his breath. Before they leave, just at the exit, Hazard grips the doorframe to steady himself and halt his escort before turning back to you.

“Daftie! Say yes!” He waves as the woman beside him tries in vain to force him out.

“Leave it, Haz.” She hisses out and turns to you. “Don’t mind him, yeah? He’s just out of it.”

Empathetic with her struggle, you nod if for nothing more than to end her failing mission.

“Um, yes?” you say softly, ignoring BoomSlang altogether. She needn’t worry over you so much, you didn’t feel pressured to answer, just simply did.

Still confused as to what the Scotsman had asked earlier because you weren’t well versed in his tongue, you ask: “Why?”

“Woo!” He thrusts his arms in the air enthusiastically, hands displayed in rock ‘n roll signs as he sways slightly. “Fuhck yes!” And a wolfish grin are all he offers you before letting Boom lead him into the darkness of the hallway and towards his bedroom. His heavy footsteps echo comfortingly and you listen with intent until they’re no longer audible.

Now that the culprit for the ruined celebratory atmosphere is gone, you have no issue interrogating the others as to what he’d said that was such a mood-killer.

“What’s going on?” You ask again after a moment of silence has passed, finding more power in your voice. “What did he say? What did that mean?” When nobody answers, you turn to the tattooed omnic specifically with a pleading expression and pursed lips. “Susie?” You call to her gently, trying to coax her out of her speechlessness. Curiosity wasn’t your only motive, you didn’t want to be left out from the plot device that had ended up causing everyone to be tongue-tied. “What did – ”

You're cut off before you can even finish.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Beside a meek frown, you don’t push the matter further. Apparently, whatever had been said, had been either extremely inappropriate or grim, and knowing Hazard, you’d bet it was the former of the two.

You opt to go to bed instead of trying to get information, the buzz from the alcohol has lulled you into a half-asleep state despite the festivities. So you leave things as they are and decide that you’ll ask again tomorrow if you haven’t forgotten by then.

“An bpósfaidh tú mé?”

What could that possibly mean? The least you could do was google it. If only you knew how to spell it…

<<< Chapter 1

Chapter 3 >>>

Masterlist

[pit-confirm]

Beautiful in White

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr/male reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: suggestive content, crossdressing

***

For a moment, you're struck by how unreal it is to see Carlos in the Williams garage, dressed in the signature blue from head to toe. It's strange, because you've seen him like that in Abu Dhabi already, you've worked with him at the base and in the simulator. And yet, there's something special in seeing him here, in Silverstone, about to show the world this year's car.

You stare at him for a moment, and then you realise that he's not standing still. No, he seems to be shivering. You walk up to him and place a hand on his lower back as you lean down to talk to him over all the commotion of the garage.

‘Everything alright?’ you ask.

Carlos looks up at you with an endearing mix of excitement and petulance. He blinks once, slowly.

‘I’m really cold,’ he says finally, and you hear his teeth chattering.

‘Oh, you poor thing,’ you say, partially in jest and partially seriously. You pat him on the back in consolation and leave your hand there.

Carlos nods solemnly. ‘I forgot how bad England gets in February,’ he says with a deep sigh and pouts. But soon enough, his face brightens up again. ‘Did you see Patrick? He's wearing shorts today. Crazy, eh?’

‘I did see that, yes,’ you say and shake your head in disbelief. ‘Are you-?’

But before you manage to ask your question, Carlos's trainer comes over and after greeting you with a silent nod, he begins to talk in quiet Italian with the driver. You try to follow the conversation but you quickly lose track of it and instead focus on Carlos's lips, which are pouty again. You also notice that they're quite pale today.

‘Sorry,’ Carlos says eventually to you and makes another unhappy face. ‘I have to go change. But I will see you soon, no?’

‘You don't look too happy about it,’ you say lightly, meaning as a joke more than anything else. You know that soon enough, Carlos will get in the car and you will have his voice in your ear.

‘Well, is just that we don't have normal changing rooms today,’ Carlos explains and you see where it's going immediately. Still, you let him finish. ‘And it's really cold. But well, it’s how it is. I will-’

‘You could change in my office,’ you interrupt him before you have the chance to think it through. ‘It's nothing fancy but I’d imagine that it's a bit warmer there.’

Carlos blinks at you and tilts his head. He thinks for a moment.

‘Sure,’ he says with a shrug and grabs his racing kit from his trainer. ‘Lead the way,’ he adds with a smile that makes something warm pool low in your stomach.

You guide him through the absolute maze that's today's Williams’ base with a gentle touch to his lower back. Eventually, you arrive at what you generously called an office before. It's a small room that barely fits a desk and two chairs, but its small size works to your advantage today - it means it heats up quickly. You come inside and set about cleaning the room to make space for Carlos, when suddenly, you hear the doors close. What? 

‘Oh,’ your voice dies in your throat when you see Carlos unceremoniously drop his racing suit on one of the chairs and start to undress. You should leave him to it. You stay rooted in your spot.

‘What?’ he asks with a raised eyebrow and a devilish smile.

‘Nothing,’ you say faintly and clear your throat. ‘Is this better than… Than wherever you were going to change?’ you ask.

‘Yes,’ Carlos says and tugs his shirt off. You can't quite hold back a quiet gasp because it turns out that underneath it, he's wearing what looks like a white camisole with a lacy trim. ‘See something you like?’ he asks and wiggles his eyebrows. His face looks so silly, that the spell breaks for a moment and you huff a quiet laugh. He's ridiculous, you think fondly and shake your head.

But this easiness only lasts until Carlos pops open the button of his jeans and tugs them down only to reveal a pair of white lace panties. They're rather see-through and they leave little to your imagination as you lock your eyes on his modest bulge. You unconsciously lick your lips and watch helplessly as Carlos steps out of his jeans and reaches for his fireproofs.

‘I didn't think you-’ you start to say and stop abruptly. I didn't think you'd do it would imply that you had little faith in this bet of yours, or that you weren't serious, which you were. Still, even now you can't believe that Carlos went through with it and accepted the consequences of losing the bet on P1 in the post-season testing. ‘I don't think those are regulation-approved,’ you say eventually and feel yourself flush with desire as you watch Carlos stop trying to pull up his Nomex pants, letting their elastic band stretch over his thighs.

Carlos rolls his eyes. ‘I could take them off?’ he asks nonchalantly.

‘Please don't,’ you say quickly and close the distance between the two of you. You put your hand on his hips and stroke the sensitive skin there just above the waistband of the panties. You don’t dare to touch them yet. ‘You look beautiful,’ you say, and finally, you move your hand lower.

Carlos flushes at the words and then flushes some more when you touch him over the lacy material. You feel him stir under your hand and for a brief moment, you consider the pros and cons of getting him off like that but you quickly reach the conclusion that there’s not enough time for that. You’ll have to do that later, when you have more than a couple of minutes together. You’d like to watch him fall apart for hours, maybe when he’s wearing the camisole as well - it cupped his chest nicely. You play with the waistband of the panties, swipe your finger over the small ribbon attached to it and feel Carlos shiver.

‘You like this,’ you say in wonder and look up just in the right moment to catch Carlos’s eyes briefly flutter shut as his breath catches.

‘No, I don’t,’ Carlos tries to deny but you know better. You can see him half-hard in his panties already and you didn’t have to do much to get him there. ‘The material is scratchy,’ he tries again, his voice petulant.

‘You could try wearing silk next time,’ you say idly and imagine him wearing a skimpy pair silk knickers. ‘It’s soft to the touch.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Carlos nods, as if in a daze. Maybe he’s also imagining himself wearing something nice. But then his eyes sharpen and he smirks. ‘I guess you’d know all about that, eh?’ he asks and grabs your hand. His fingers ghost the ring you wear on your middle finger.

‘I do know what I’m talking about, yes,’ you say, ignoring the implications. ‘You’d enjoy it, I think.’

‘What makes you say that?’ Carlos asks quickly, stubbornly trying to maintain his image or pride - you’re not really sure.

‘I have a hunch,’ you say flatly and give his cock a squeeze, feeling it jump under your touch. Again, you remind yourself that you have no time to see this through - at least, not now. Maybe the two of you will find yourself locked in this office later today.

‘Fine,’ Carlos grits out and makes a face. ‘Maybe. But I guess we will never know-’ he starts to say and gently moves your hand away.

‘Why not?’ you ask as you give him space. You watch him finally pull his fireproofs up and slowly put on the rest of his racing suit. ‘We could have another bet, if you need a reason to wear them…’

‘About what?’ Carlos asks eagerly and then looks away, as if ashamed to show such enthusiasm.

‘Pre-testing results?’ you suggest and notice the quick wince Carlos tries to hide at the words. ‘Is that too far away? We can always bet about your lap times in the sim,’ you say with a smile. ‘Or maybe… Maybe I could simply ask you to wear something nice?’

Carlos looks at you with wide and unblinking eyes for long enough that you begin to worry if you crossed a line by making this suggestion. You feel strangely nervous as Carlos walks up to you silently and then- And then he walks right by you and opens the doors. There’s a person from the social media team waiting there with a camera in hand. You hope that it wasn’t rolling and that the mic wasn’t on.

‘Come in, you wanted to film a bit, no?’ Carlos asks and leads the person in. He looks at you for a moment. ‘Maybe,’ he says finally and immediately returns his attention to the camera, which is supposed to catch the last moments of him suiting up before jumping into the car.

Your breath catches once you understand what he means. You look at him for a while but the moment has passed. You quietly leave the room and start making plans not just for the evening, but also for the future. You wonder how far you could push him, would he say yes to a pair of stockings and a garter belt? A bralette? A corset? You head swims with ideas and you feel yourself get excited about what’s to come.

This smau is a part of the Online Disinhibition Effect fic.

[theycalledhimastar]

I demand your take on ABO 141 with a male reader PLEASE, there's never any good male stuff

Bestie do NOT give me this kind of brainrot, but also I accept the gift graciously-

Also, I had no idea what you wanted the male reader to be so there's a bit of everything so everyone's happy :) They come off a little oc-ish to me, the way I did the reader but oh well, I like it.

Forgive me for anything I got wrong, I'm not an A/B/O master guys. This was way longer than I initially planned, lol. Enjoy!

Omegaverse!141 x Male reader!!!

I'm not the most bright brained alright, I agree with literally everyone else and I think Price and Ghost would both be Alphas with Gaz and Soap being betas, it just makes sense in my mind. The two Alphas need the cool-headed inbetweens to keep them from toppling everything and/or butting heads from too much hormones going around.

They're all fairly skeptical about yet another person joining them for any given reason, four people is plenty and having yet another person in the fray, while it might be helpful sometimes, is a bit of a balancing act to fit into their already perfect schedule. Changing things to accommodate you, while not the worst thing, isn't the most easy feat for everyone. Especially depending on what you are...

☄. *.

You were an Alpha, purebred, built like a brick wall and about as stubborn as one too. Although you weren't loud about it, you weren't going to let people forget tat you were not to be messed with. Raised with a bit of an ego as most purebred Alphas were, you knew you were destined for greatness from the moment you presented. Started physical and mental training as soon as you were old enough, the goal had always been the military for you, no doubts about it. But you had never imagined, in all your wildest dreams, that you would be a part of the task force.

Most people, upon first glance, would likely assume you fit right in, but shoehorning you in with two other alphas was way harder than anticipated, seeing as you immediately began trying to prove yourself before you had gotten settled in. Which, would have been adorable if you weren't so damn stubborn about it.

Ghost is working out? You join him without a second thought, attempting to lift twice as much as what he's doing. Of course, his numbers were already nothing to scoff at, so all you truly succeeded in, was nearly dropping the weight on your foot and damaging your precious alpha pride. "You alright there tough guy?" Ghost seemed amused by your ambitious failure.

"Shut up." Was all you growled in retaliation, storming off to go sulk elsewhere.

Soap is practicing at the range with Gaz? You grab a pistol and try to show off just how capable you are with it, easy right? Not really. You fumble in a way you weren't even sure you understood, and to put it simply, you missed the target significantly and blew an entire round trying to make amends. By the time you had finished it, the sergeants were trying not to lose their composure and die laughing at your cockiness despite it all. Damnit, you could normally do this all so easy, what the hell was wrong!? You set down the weapon with a nearly frightening calmness despite the seething rage in your chest that demanded respect as an alpha. Your self-righteous upbringing had done you no good now as you stormed off to go beat the shit out of the next inanimate object that pissed you off.

"How exactly did he make it here?" "Eh, cap says he's good. Let 'im cool off, I'm sure he knows what he's doin."

There was no cooling off, of course, as you ended up nearly punching a hole in the wall as you had graciously slammed into the doorway in your blind rage, smacking yourself square in the nose and nearly toppling over in pain. That was, quite honestly, the last straw for your dignity as you snarled something ferocious. Not caring that it had been rather close to the Captain's office until you were unceremoniously yanked back by your scruff, held face-to-face with the unamused John Price. Although you were an alpha, even you couldn't quite deny the effect his scent had on you now. Not one of anger, but certainly not a playful one either. He was projecting his authority, silently telling you to quiet down a little and stop being such a loudmouth showoff. Shame and something akin to an excited fear sparked briefly in the pit of your stomach before you cleared your throat and swallowed hard.

"Captain." You nodded shortly, not missing the way his hand tightened around the back of your neck.

"Heard you've been causing a bit of a ruckus for the others, been busy?" He raised a thick brow, making you swallow back your nerves. You attempted to shoot back some of your own alpha scent, but it felt puny and overpowered entirely by his.

"Not intentionally, sir."

"Let's settle down a little, you've barely been here a week, quit causing trouble or I'll have to take care of your behavior myself. Got it?" He leans close, you could swear he was breathing on the back of your neck now and you know for a fact your heart is racing for reasons you don't think are fear.

Not wanting to find out what he means by that just yet, you give a quick nod that seems to satisfy him enough to let you go. Allowing you to scamper back to your room, the adrenaline cushioning what was going to be a very hurt ego when it settled in that you had been grabbed by the collar and scolded like a child. Damnit, you would prove yourself one way or another...

☄. *.

You were a Beta, always being told you were unremarkable, nearly always forgotten in the squabble between Alphas and Omegas. So, in an effort to at least be something impressive to yourself, you took to bulking up. Genetics and luck both seemed to favor you as you certainly bulked up. To the point where you were constantly mistaken for an Alpha by anyone that didn't truly know you. If they did, they would know that you were far more of the beta disposition in reality. Laid back, cheerful, extroverted enough to make friends, but not gratingly so. The perfect addition to the task force at first glance...

Minus the fact that you were both clumsy, and a little bit ditsy from time to time.

Sure, you weren't incapable, you could definitely hold your own in battle. But it seemed that when the adrenaline wasn't pumping through your veins, you were a tangle of long limbs and jumbled thoughts. It was obvious that you weren't trying to be a mess, but the others seemed to assume you were up to something. Surely, a mountain of a man like you, such a capable Beta on the battlefield, can't be such a... dolt in real life, right?

The same man they had witnessed absolutely nail a small squadron all by his lonesome, had momentarily forgotten how to lace his boots after unlacing them entirely to replace them. And had practically tied his feet together.

"You think he knows he's doin' it wrong?" "Oh he has to by now... right?" "Guys, did I get it? I'm so confused, why is this so weird!?"

Not to say you were entirely unaware of yourself, you knew you were scatterbrained at times. But you didn't know that they had assumed you were taking them for a fool sometimes. The sergeants decided to confront you about it, with Soap cornering you after a particularly amusing incident.

"Mate, ye know we've seen ye on the field right?" He sighed, running his fingers through his overgrown curls. "uhh, yeah?" You kind of stared between the two of them, completely confused as to where the conversation was going. Gaz snuck behind you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a friendly manner. "Right, so you don't have to act like a total numpty off the field, you aren't foolin' anyone anymore." He chuckled, nudging your head with his playfully. It would have been a comforting thing, except for the fact that you had no clue what they were on about. "What do you mean?" "Stop acting like such a hare-brained dingus. Just be yourself, mate." He shook your shoulders gently, the two staring at you so earnestly, just trying to convince you to just be yourself around them. "Oh... About that..."

Of course after that, they both felt really bad and you had to explain for over an hour that no, it wasn't on purpose, yes, you were that messy sometimes, and no, you weren't mad for their assumption. Although Ghost certainly seemed to find it hilarious that you were such a gentle giant, and a total hot mess express. Not that he told you that, truth be told, he didn't feel the need to talk to you much off of the field. Not because he didn't like you, he simply felt you fit in so well with the betas and he didn't want to throw off things. Although he did want to know how you had gotten so huge naturally.

Price thinks you're downright precious with the stark contrast between on and off duty with you. It's like you become a completely different person and he can't help but smell the scent of a content beta every time he tells you that you've done him good. He was certain that everyone could tell just how excited you were when he referred to you as "his good lad". It was a simple nickname, rolled off his tongue before he could stop it, but you nearly lit up in elation. So now not only him, but everyone else makes an attempt to give you subtle little praises like that just to see you get all giddy, and to this date you have yet to notice, or at least say anything about it.

☄. *.

You were an omega, not what any of them expected when they were told that someone would be joining them, as omega were notoriously... well... Violence avoidant to put it simply. But you were not the type that wanted to feed into stereotypes. You wanted any excuse to not become some boring old stay-at-home omega that took care of children and housework. The parts of the world you had grown up in were very traditional and expected just that of you. "Settle down with a nice Alpha, have babies, live the peaceful life." Yeah right, it was like they didn't even know what you wanted.

So, in an effort to escape that life, you decided to enlist, and it turned out that you were... actually kinda good at it despite it all. Your fight or flight chose to flee more often than not, but that meant you were quick on your feet despite the stomach churning levels of anxiety that pulsed through your veins at any given moment. Your adrenaline raced and kept you moving before you could chicken out, and that made you a damn good soldier.

Off field was a different story but that didn't really matter seeing as you liked minding your own business and having your own space more often than not.

When you first met all of them, the aura of two alphas was quite a lot, especially as it seemed at least Ghost was projecting a little bit more than he needed to, getting across the point that there was an order to the way things were and you needed to not ruin that. (He's just nervous having an omega around as he isn't used to it and he isn't sure exactly how to act around you.)

Gaz is rather quick to step in and soothe you with his beta scent, like warm coffee and vanilla and something distinct that you hadn't ever smelled before. But it soothed your racing nerves and made you feel a little less alienated. Although with a nudge from John, Ghost realized he was only successfully scaring you, and he cut it out just as quickly.

Johnny is excited to have an omega around, although he doesn't really treat you any different than Gaz. It's the equivalent of short people acting different when they're around someone shorter than them, yknow? Like he doesn't see you as beneath him, he just knows you're different than anything he's been around and he's nosey about absolutely everything.

"Do all Alphas scare you?" "No... why would they?" "I dunno, it seemed like every omega I met before was either addicted to Alphas or terrified of em." "Uh, no, I think you just knew weird people before."

Another thing, is that Price seems to view you as a sort of stray cat. Skittish if anyone approached you a little too loudly or excitedly, but plenty sweet if they got to know you. At least, that was how it was in his head. In reality, you were just an introverted guy who wanted to at least get along with his teammates and they thought you were the cutest thing ever. Sometimes, John would call you into his office just to tell you that he noticed your hard work and he was proud of you. He loved the way your cheeks flushed whenever he got close or projected his scent a little extra, filling the room with the scent of expensive cigars and warm, woody cologne. It made you a little fuzzy int eh head and he could tell, so he avoided using it. But the face you made when you got all spacey and distracted during meetings because you were sandwiched between him and Ghost, it was just too good to resist.

"You alright there sergeant?" "Yes sir, all-all good." "You look a little flushed, you sure you're not coming down with something?" He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead, trying not to smile wider when your eyes widened just slightly. "Positive, Captain..." You squeaked.

[multifamdomfan]

Angel Eyes

Crowley had always known Aziraphale was different from the other angels. Not just in personality, but in little things—things that didn’t quite add up when compared to the shining, golden figures they used to be surrounded by.

For one, Aziraphale’s warmth wasn’t just metaphorical. He radiated a gentle, almost imperceptible heat, like sunlight filtering through clouds. He had a way of looking at things—really looking, as if seeing more than should be possible. Crowley had often wondered how the angel always seemed to notice things before they happened, how he was never quite caught off guard, even when he really should have been.

And then, of course, there were the eyes.

Crowley hadn’t known about them for a long time. Millennia, actually. Aziraphale kept them hidden well enough, the extra pairs on his cheeks closed tightly, indistinguishable from the soft curves of his face. He never spoke of them, never let them open in front of anyone. Perhaps he thought they were unsettling, too different, too angelic in a way that didn’t fit the world they lived in now.

Crowley only found out by accident.

It had been a late night in the bookshop, the kind where the world outside was a quiet hum of distant traffic and rustling leaves, and they were alone, the way they liked it. Crowley had been draped across Aziraphale’s settee, one leg hanging over the armrest, swirling a glass of wine lazily in his hand while Aziraphale fussed about with a new batch of books.

Nothing unusual, nothing out of the ordinary—until Crowley made him laugh.

A real, full-bodied laugh, the kind that made Aziraphale throw his head back in abandon. And in that moment, the light in the room caught his face just right, and Crowley saw it.

The briefest flicker of movement on Aziraphale’s cheeks. The tiniest, reflexive twitch.

Crowley sat up instantly, gaze narrowing. “Angel.”

Aziraphale, still chuckling, blinked at him. “Yes, dear?”

Crowley tilted his head, focusing on Aziraphale’s face, on the places where he was almost certain he had just seen—

“You, uh… got something on your cheek?”

Aziraphale’s expression didn’t change, but there was the smallest shift in his posture, a tension that hadn’t been there before. “Oh, nonsense, dear boy, I—”

And then, perhaps realizing Crowley wasn’t going to let it go, Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, bother.”

Before Crowley could ask, he watched as Aziraphale closed his main eyes and, hesitantly, deliberately, let the other four open.

Two on each cheek, right where dimples would be if angels had dimples.

Soft, blue, and unmistakably his.

Crowley stared.

Aziraphale fidgeted under his scrutiny, fingers wringing together. “I, ah, usually keep them closed,” he said, a bit sheepishly. “People tend to find them unsettling.”

Crowley was still staring, but his brain was catching up now, piecing things together. The way Aziraphale always seemed to notice things behind him without turning his head. How he never quite got caught off guard, even when Crowley tried. How sometimes, when Aziraphale was deep in thought, Crowley could have sworn his face moved in a way it shouldn’t have.

And yet—

“...They suit you.”

Aziraphale blinked—all of his eyes. “What?”

Crowley smirked. “They suit you. Thought you angels were meant to have more eyes, anyway. ‘S practically modest, if you ask me.”

Aziraphale let out a breath of laughter, something soft and relieved. “You’re not… unnerved?”

Crowley scoffed. “Angel, I turn into a giant serpent sometimes. You really think a few extra peepers are gonna scare me off?”

Aziraphale gave him a look—one that, Crowley realized, felt much more complete now, as if the expression had been missing something before. Crowley had to admit, it was a bit eerie at first, but also—

Rather beautiful.

“I suppose that’s true,” Aziraphale admitted. Then, after a pause, “Thank you.”

Crowley waved a hand, trying to appear nonchalant. “Eh, what are friends for?”

Aziraphale smiled at him, and for the first time, Crowley saw all six of his eyes crinkle with warmth.

Crowley grinned back.

And then, because he was Crowley, he leaned forward, squinting. “So, do they all blink at the same time, or can you do it separately?”

Aziraphale let out a scandalized huff and promptly shut all four extra eyes. “Really, Crowley.”

Crowley chuckled, settling back onto the settee. “Just curious, angel. Can’t blame a demon for askin’.”

Aziraphale rolled his (now two) eyes but said nothing, a small, fond smile lingering on his lips.

And Crowley, for all his teasing, thought to himself that he rather liked knowing this about Aziraphale—one more secret shared between them, another thing that set his angel apart in the best way possible.

[bigskydreaming]

Okay, replacing my pinned post with latest update to our status quo....it might seem like things are never moving forward with us (certainly feels that way) but we're in a much better place than a year ago! We have secure, stable housing for the foreseeable longterm future, my ID situation is finished and dealt with, I have a steady, regular paycheck again, and basic health insurance FTW.

My current focus is paying off medical debt/rebuilding credit tanked when I spent every cent and bit of credit I had dealing with my jaw surgery and being unhoused for several years. I still have, well, no teeth, lmao, which is something I'd really like to fix because optimally I've still got a good chance at another forty years left in me and I would like to not spend all that time with ill-fitting dentures. I've never been able to not be aware of the taste of any of the different denture gums/sealants I've tried and its not super fun walking around tasting a constant awareness of that time you were gay-bashed and it blew up your life and led to longterm health complications fifteen years later that blew up your life a second time, even more thoroughly loooool. Why do I add lol there? Its not funny. Whimsy I guess. Idk I dont really get me.

POINT IS. Even if I eventually secure some better dental insurance down the road, there's no way I'm affording teeth implants without decent credit cards or loans in the future. And since jaw bone deteriorates when a tooth is absent and I have quite literally no teeth, the years since my jaw surgery mean I need mega bone grafts in my jaw before I can even think about implants, and the longer it takes to get there, the worse (and more expensive, and thus more unlikely to actually happen) it becomes.

So, as anyone who's lived below the poverty line knows, the only way to make goals like that happen is to prioritize them with every paycheck. So things like food, medication, etc, all come AFTER putting money towards "the big things," with whatever's left over. Which leaves basically zero buffer for anything else, especially the unexpected. I haven't bought a new item of clothing in over four years, etc. A few days ago we wasted a whole day just trying to find an extra freelance job online so we could get five bucks for a box of band-aids. Stuff like that.

Which is to say, five bucks here and there from people who enjoy my content when I actually AM around and would like me to be more often is hugely appreciated and makes a BIG difference, because it helps with all that "extra." For example, even just an extra $40 in a month can keep us fed for a week without having to dip into a paycheck and take money away from The Big Goals. $30 is enough to pay for my most important medication for the month. It takes me two train transfers and a bus to get to work and then the same back, but public transpo caps daily fares at $5.25, so even just an extra $21 takes care of getting me to and from work for a whole week.

A single $3 ko-fi or $5 donation might not sound like a lot to most ppl but for us it adds up quickly and just a handful of those can mean the difference between getting to apply a whole paycheck to where we NEED it to go vs it quickly getting whittled down to nothing and we end up right where we started.....or usually worse off, bc those unexpected expenses like boxes of band-aids or some Advil or little things like that add up quick too and we often start off the next month knowing we have to devote a whole paycheck to everything we couldn't get last month and we're a week in before we're even back at zero and able to start putting money back towards the Big Goals.

So if you ever see this post and think eh, what difference could $2 or $3 bucks make, please just know its VERY appreciated and makes a very big difference indeed. Sometimes an extra $3 means being able to spend a whole day off work ACTUALLY off of work instead of spending ten hours hustling to try and find and secure an extra freelance gig when literally the only thing we needed that day was an extra $3 for a box of pasta and some sauce.

My ko-fi link is here and paypal is here, and as always, anything and everything is really appreciated, even just reading this through and considering it, lol. Thanks guys!!

[victusinveritas]

I just posted this in a thing about military chic, but now I'm posting it here because I am. Deal with it if that bothers you (this site is free, you can always just leave or unfollow me). For people who want a military chic look made from actual military stuff, some tips from an ex military surplus store worker and briefly online seller...

I recommend the Swiss wool coat highly with one caveat. It looks a little...German, but it's amazing quality (because the Swiss believe in quality), and if you go for one of the slash-pocketed ones they are just gorgeous (the older horizontal pockets are fine too). It comes in long and short varieties, and the rolled French cuffs are handy if your arms are a bit longer. It's a lighter weight wool coat, good for up to 45F and down to about 20F, colder with a sweater. I recommend the older ones with metal buttons, but there's a later plastic/bakelite button version that works well enough too. They make corresponding trousers that are great, but at that point you are going in almost full uniform, so I recommend switching it up with a good pair of Swedish or German (postwar) wool trousers just so you don't look too much like a certain type of 'German history enthusiast.'

Here's a link to one on eBay. They tend to run about $70-$150, plus shipping, so watch where you order them from because if you're getting something from Lithuania, shipping's going to be a bit. To defunkify anything (and there will be funk most probably), I recommend handwashing or soaking that shit in a mild detergent or Woolite.

However... Don't sleep on Bulgarian Army surplus. Their wool greatcoats are made on the Russian/Soviet WWI/WWII pattern, single breasted and slightly offset. Middle weight, with enough room for a sweater depending on what size you order relative to your build. Plus, there's usually an inner pocket for your trusty Makarov while you hunt for enemies of the Revolution or whatever. Again, it's got the French cuffs, and those are just lovely.

Or you have your US Army greatcoat. A beast, but wonderfully warm:

And then there's the US Marine WWII wool coat. This one is a steal at $48, but you'll have to be small enough to fit into it.

It's what I would call a forest green, darker than the mustard-green color of the US Army coat, and the wool is less coarse, this is a coat you could live in, especially if it still has the silk lining. It's thick enough, but not so thick you can't move around in it (that's true for all the coats listed here). You can get it (and the US Army greatcoat) in a cutdown, jeep coat style. It's shorter and made for, as you guessed, hopping in and out of a jeep without getting snagged on anything so you can go send whatever fascists you need to to their reward. Nice, but you'll want a good pair of trousers with it (again, check out the USMC wool trousers from this era, they're handy). The quality on this is second only to the Swiss stuff. I'm not sure why. If you're looking for something in the same color but a bit lighter and shorter, I recommend the winter service jacket above.. And we've got the British Household Guard overcoat. Technically fine, but, eh, I'm not a fan for some reason. Well made though.

I'm more partial to this double-breasted British coat. And this Civil Defense coat is just a fucking gem. I'd love to find one in my freakishly tall size.

Avoid, I'd say, the later Cold War era Soviet Coats, they are big and wool and tempting, but they are usually stiff as a frozen poet in the gulag. I've owned two (bought cheaply each time) and given them away because they just weren't keeping.

Just...I get it, I get why it's tempting. It's got that Soviet swagger, but like the later Soviet Union, inside it just doesn't quite work.

[fizzyrodeo]

my ranking of the seven deadly sins' designs in terms of personal preference. WARNING: I am not nice to Asmodeus or Beelzebub. All simps and stans have been warned. 👇

1. Leviathan (Envy)

Rating: 8/10

I feel like the hate for her is kind of unfair, considering she's the first character we've gotten (or at least the first I've seen) that has two heads and despite being a conjoined demon she's quite cohesive while outlining the differences between her halves. I understand finding her design underwhelming, but before her there was Lucifer (who has the most basic design of them all) and then Beelzebub (whose only interesting feature are her lava bits) so I'm not sure why people are harsh on her like she's the first underwhelming one.

Anyway, I gave Levi an 8/10 because for the sins I don't typically like to fully judge until their demonic form is shown as well. I also feel like it would have been nice to see her be a bit bigger in her base form- not to the extent of Satan's size, but maybe a bit larger than Asmodeus or Mammon.

2. Satan (Wrath)

Rating: 10/10

Dare I say, this portrayal of Satan is kind of iconic. You can see the similarities between him and imp-kind, but he's not designed to just look like a giant imp (which is what most media does if it's not making him a sexy red human with horns). His size is what I'd expect it to be- really, it's nice to see a Sin that actually cares to stand out from its denizens in some way. Him basically being a giant dragon was a good choice.

Despite his rating being higher than Leviathan's, I didn't list him as first because I like looking at Leviathan more.

3. Belphegor (Sloth)

Rating: 4/10

I didn't really pay much attention to her when she was on screen, but her little details stood out to me. She only gets four points though, because not only was I unable to get a look at her full design but what I gauged from her outfit wasn't very impressive. Also, I'm not really that attached to the concept of her character. None of the sins really have roles except to maintain order within their rings I guess, but seemingly all Belphegor does is sleep.

Still, her unique details and coloring does count for something.

4. Mammon (Greed)

Rating: "eh."

Mammon goes right in the middle because I feel completely neutral on him. I know what the general consensus on his design is- too green, too patterned. But I personally can't really think of anything I'd change about him. Even knowing what a letdown his demon form is, it doesn't really impact me– I guess because by the time we got to his demon form being revealed, I was already desensitized.

5. Asmodeus (Lust)

Rating: 2/10

Definitely one of the most annoying designs in the show. I started skipping most of his scenes in S2 because I hate looking at him and his ugly-ass suits that do absolutely nothing for his figure. And as for the matter of his figure, he's just a big, disproportionately buff guy who was given the prototype design for Stolas' head. If Asmodeus wasn't built like a bird on steroids I'd probably like him better.

6. Beelzebub (Gluttony)

Rating: 3/10

Her design has some things I like– namely her ears and the lava hair (when it's under the lighting depicted). The problem is, it just doesn't give 'sin'. She fits in with her subjects too much (and no, I don't think that applies to Leviathan on the same scale).

Her outfits are really bad too. I mean, I get her basic outfit- she's a party girl- but it's basically Loona's regular outfit. She couldn't have had something a little more glam-rave? And the outfit she wore in 'Mastermind' is so random- it feels like she brought it at the last minute from a costume store, not like it's something she'd keep in her wardrobe.

The other issues with Beelzebub, from her not really embodying her sin (her and Mammon should have swapped) to her whole design feeling like another way to snub fat people out of the Vivzieverse (yes I know not all fat people are gluttonous and that gluttony doesn't just refer to food, but it's just so convenient that the embodiment of gluttony- whose whole thing is food- has a lava stomach and can't gain weight) make it really hard to like her overall.

7. Lucifer (Pride)

Rating: 1/10

He's just a disappointment. His outfit fits the circus theme Vivienne was going for, but it's negated by literally no one else in the show following that theme except Beelzebub and her crappy court costume. And personally? I would have made him look a little less angelic considering his current status, but I don't know enough about fallen angel lore (both irl and in the show) to debate if him looking so non-demonic makes sense or not.

The only reason he gets a single point is because he's still better than the absolute worst design in the show, which to me is Loona's demon form. Whoever cleared that needs to be banned from making executive decisions in this show.