#this was so fun to write🤩🤩🤩

[faynthearted]

school is back in session. free time is 100% gone. 😀

[forwhump]

a/n; I have a whole truman show style day in the life thing I did w point that I was trying to find but there’s a lot of creepy weirdness to sort through first to find it & I found this one instead & I feel it’s particularly ugh so <3 couldn’t let it go to waste

enjoy some rambling point introspection :’)

tw/cw: rape, noncon, misgendering, transphobia, dehumanization, kidnapping, captivity, psychological torture, sexual exploitation, degradation, misogyny

creepy whumper, rapist pov, the ramblings of a madman, mentions of a living weapon

“I think I’m in love with you,” Point tells the naked, crying girl shackled in his bunk.

Her wrists are bleeding from how hard she had tried to fight to get them free. She isn’t fighting anymore; he’s tired her out. He likes her tired. She looks up at him with wide, wet eyes and her bare skin is so warm. Quietly, she hiccups, “there’s something really fuckin’ wrong with you.”

She’s got such a stupid accent. A real backwoods aw, shucks kind of accent. She tries to thin it out as much as possible but she hates him so much she can’t control it around him, sometimes, and he knows she hates that, too. He loves it. He loves the accent, too, even if it is stupid as all get out, even if his men make fun of him for it relentlessly. They’re all full of shit — they’d each jumped at the chance to ride the cowgirl, and they each jump, still.

She’s fuckin’ unreal in that lethal, Playboy bunny, girl next door kind of way. A real fantasy kind of way. Blonde bombshell, right? What man in their right mind doesn’t want to fuck a pretty blonde? First time Point had laid eyes on her, sitting on the floor of that trap house, he knew he was gonna keep her. She was special. She had a mouth like Princess Peach and Point could fit both hands around her waist. He was never gonna let her go. Couldn’t.

Then she spoke, and Point had been taken aback by the stupid accent, thick and unexpected, the backwater twang of banjos, denim overalls, and tooth gaps.

The milkmaid braids had been his idea, a branch of two separate, very good ideas. The first was to put her in her place; her accent was stupid, and it was embarrassing, and the hat and the boots just didn’t feel humiliating enough. The second was that she had already gotten under Point’s skin; she spoke, from the floor of that trap house, and he’d just as quickly started harbouring a fantasy of holding the farmer’s daughter by her sweet braids, tied off with ribbon, and fucking her face. Vineyard, the creative bastard, had supplied the milkmaid dress — his niece was twelve, and it had been a Halloween costume. Wren’s a tall girl, long legged, and the dress never fit her, not properly, but it never needed to. They made her wear it for a long time, anyway.

Point has an inkling that might’ve been where his thing for the accent had blossomed, but it’s hard to say. “Oh, darlin’,” he croons, and he’s mocking her. He does it a lot, and doesn’t always do it on purpose but most of the time he does — it makes her flush, and he likes her flushed.

He likes her a lot of ways, really. Tired, flushed. He likes her when she’s crying and when she’s trying to fight him off. He likes her when she’s begging and when she’s sobbing so hard she can’t choke out words. He likes her when she’s barely conscious, all soft and wet and pliant. He likes her when she’s pretending to like him because she knows he’ll kill her dog if she doesn’t. He hasn’t had her in a way, yet, in fact, that he hasn’t liked her; he actually likes the girl in all ways. He doesn’t even like his wife in all ways. It’s why he thinks he might love her — it’s why he knows he does. How typical, right? The handsome jock and the hot blonde. Who could’ve predicted it?

She’s already flushed with crying but she flushes a little darker with humiliation and Point grins.

She definitely isn’t perfect — she gets a bit shrill, and her thing for the dog upsets Point so completely he can’t think about it too hard or he loses chunks of time. But her hair is pretty, and her mouth is pretty, and her cunt is always warm, and she really is beautiful, in that really rare, really impossible kind of way.

Point would keep her all to himself if he could, right here in his bunk. He’d stop applying for leave and she’d stop having to go back to that disgusting doghouse. He’d gotten close, once, but it didn’t last. And that’s not to say he’d stop letting his men use her, either — it’s everybody else. It’s that fuckin’ dog.

He stops grinning and spits in her face.

He doesn’t mean to, not really, but he looks down at her and he sees the way she looks at that thing. Point is being generous every time he calls it a dog, but chunk of meat is just too wordy. Is what it is, though, isn’t it? An ugly chunk of meat a couple of the military’s poindexters had reanimated. She doesn’t look at Point the same way she looks at that thing, and how is that fair? She does it on purpose, just to upset him. He knows she does.

She recoils and he grabs her by the jaw. Holds her still. “Open.” She struggles, trying to lean away, and he presses the back of her head harder into his mattress. “Open,” he demands, and she does on a sob and he spits again, into her mouth. She chokes and he hears himself tell her, “you’re disgusting.” She sobs again and he spits, “stop fucking the dog.”

“I’m not —“

“And stop fuckin’ lying to me,” he snaps.

That’s her worst thing. Worse than the whining, and the fact that she opens her legs for that thing — she’s a liar. She’s always lying.

But fuck, does it almost tie with the fact that she opens her legs for that thing. He hates to think about it but it’s hard not to equate it. Does she get just as wet for him? Does she make the same noises? It would probably make him hate her if he wasn’t in love with her.

“Why can’t you just be a good girl?” He asks, and he doesn’t mean to ask so sincerely. “Why do you have to be a whore?”

She looks up at him from beneath his hand with a hatred that radiates off her like heat. He’s willing to bet she never looks at the dog like that.

He’s also willing to bet the dog doesn’t know. It’s dumb, and he can’t see the girl telling it the truth. It had been wildly protective of her from pretty early into its placement, after however long it had taken the girl to manipulate it into wrapping itself around her little finger. Something about it makes her feel safer, more secure, even if it’s just a cute little lie she tells herself to sleep better sometimes. Even with the added guard dog, she’s still here with Point. She’s still been here with Point for hours.

He doesn’t care for the dog — he thinks it’s a hideous waste of meat and a disgusting fuckin’ science experiment — but he could probably feel bad for it if he let himself. The dog is just so dumb and it has no idea that its little girlfriend is a well fucked whore and if that if Point plays his cards just right he can get her to beg for his cock.

“You could be perfect,” he tells her.

She’s still crying — she’s usually crying — and she’s always doe eyed but when she cries it makes her eyes look a lot bigger and makes her look really scared and really pathetic. Point’s always thought she looks prettiest when she’s scared.

“I fuckin’ hate you,” she tells him, and she enunciates very carefully.

“Shucks,” he mocks, and grins when she flushes, predictably. Fuck, she’s pretty. If nothing else, she’s pretty. It’s almost enough to forget the stupid hillbilly accent and the fact that she fucks dogs.

He puts his hand on her thigh. She tries to flinch away but he holds her there, pressing bruises into her pale thigh in the shape of his fingertips. Vineyard bites her, fucks her up pretty bad sometimes, likes to mark her that way, but Point’s never cared much for biting. Point’s always liked to bruise.

He pushes her thighs apart and the way she trembles in his hands makes him smile. “Stop,” she begs, and the poor girl must be so tired but she makes a valiant attempt to fight him off, anyway. “Please. Please, no more.”

Point clicks his tongue as he settles between her legs. “You know you don’t get to decide when we’re done here, cowgirl,” he says. He holds her down against his sheets, standard issue — black, as opposed to the asset grey. Better thread count, too. The girl should be grateful, he thinks, that he prefers to fuck her here, on the best sheets in their chunk of the district, instead of the shitty sheets in the unit, instead of the concrete of any of the floors.

Point would love, in his wildest fantasies, to get her furlough and fuck her at home. His wife was in charge of the furnishing and all that, because why does he give a shit? But she knocked it out of the park with their sheets. The mattress, too. The whole bed is great, and Point would love to get the girl out of here and fuck her on it for days consecutive. He would love to ruin those sheets. But it would be sticky, ‘cause he’d have to get his wife and all four of the kids out of the house and to stay away from the house at the same time. The neighbourhood is affluent, but that annoying, gossipy sort of affluent that his wife finds so friendly but that makes Point sick and enraged. If he sent his wife and children on vacation, then showed up at the house, with or without a blonde considerably hotter and younger than his wife, they’d gossip. His wife would find out, at the very least, that he took leave and didn’t mention it to her, and that’s a can of worms he doesn’t think he wants to open. That’s the debate, at least.

But it’s an ongoing debate. Every time he’s eligible for leave again, he considers it. Sometimes, in his bunk with this girl, when her skin is especially warm and her cunt is especially wet, he thinks it would be worth it.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he tells her again.

She sobs.

[dr-demi-bee]

Miri-

I don't know much about you, I'm sorry. All I heard was that you were a fighter, brave and fierce, and that Gale loves you so. I wanted to say... thank you? I suppose? I know, it's out of the blue, and you're probably completely baffled right now, so I can only apologize. But Gale is so wonderful. He is so brilliant and kind and he deserves someone who will lift his spirits.

But you deserve Gale, too. I know he wouldn't stay with someone who didn't treat him with the utmost care and affection, not anymore. So I know he's in good hands. He is my dear, dear friend, and I am so glad to see him happy. But that he makes you happy too, that's important.

You take care of one another, you hear? If he gets on your nerves, come by for a chat and a treat. I'm outside the city, near Cloakwood's edge. Left at the faerie ring. You're welcome anytime.

-Your friend

Miri’s relaxing in the late evening sun on the tower balcony when Corvus arrives with a letter strapped to his leg. She wasn’t expecting a new contract from the Confluence any time soon, so she’s perplexed when she takes the note from him. Miri offers the dire raven a series of affectionate scritches in reward for the delivery and the great bird crows happily.

Her confusion mounts when she opens the letter. Not the usual coded message - and not a note from a packmate either. Something written in Common, and in an unfamiliar hand, no less.

“Who...?” Miri squints as she tries to parse through the words. But so much of it is vocabulary she hasn’t learned yet. She recognizes her name at the opening. And Gale’s name numerous times. “Sorry...fight, brave...lo-ve...”

Miri growls tersely as her frustration trying to read mounts. Note in hand, she swings her legs over the seat to stride into the study in search of her mate.

“Fenor?”

“Over here, my love.” Gale’s voice answers from the seating around the fireplace further inside the room. She finds him reading a thick tome by firelight, but he looks up as she approaches with a warm smile and eyes glittering in the warm glow. His expression shifts when he notes her mood and the paper in hand. “From Talmeria? Something amiss?”

“No, not Talmeria,” Miri returns with a shake of her head, glancing to the writing once more. Unfamiliar, and certainly not in the Confluence’s style. “I am not sure who from.”

Miri proffers the letter to him, causing him to raise a curious brow. But when he catches a glimpse they furrow with a confusion.

“Who would write you in Common?” Gale questions with a curious murmur. Those thoughtful eyes flit back and forth quickly as they scan the note.

“I am unsure,” Miri returns, “Could you read it to me?”

“Of course, my love.”

Gale obliges, shifting the tome from his lap to the side table. Then he stands and accepts the note, clearing his throat softly.

“Hmm. 'Miri', it starts. 'I don't know much about you...'”

He reads the note aloud, in his rich, soothing voice. Miri sits on the arm of the chair as she listens, watching Gale move about the room and gesticulate as he orates. Brown eyes flit up to Miri on occasion to ensure she’s not missed any words. Her Common has come a long way, to his great pride, but there were still hiccups every now and then.

As he works through the note, a look of growing intrigue falls over the wizard’s features. He turns to her with a curious hum once he finishes the letter, eyebrows drawing up.

“It seems a stranger has written a letter of appreciation. About you and me, no less. And, rightfully, how I am lucky to have you,” he muses, lips curling up into a warm smile once more.

Miri looks back to him with a soft, but quizzical smile, her lips twisting slightly.

"What would possess someone to do that?" She wonders. "Why would they want to meet me?"

“Perhaps they’re an admirer of us both?” Gale theorizes, sounding a bit amused by the idea. He glances down at the letter, as if reading it again might provide further insight.

“Or…” Gale’s gaze refocuses, finding Miri’s bright eyes again. His expression softens. “Perhaps they’re hoping to get to know the person who has captured my heart.”

He steps closer, lifting his free hand to gently brush his knuckles over Miri’s freckled cheek. Miri leans into the contact. Her gaze softens as it meets his, though her brows remain furrowed with her lingering suspicion.

Gale’s hand slides back to thread into her hair, his fingers brushing against her neck. He gives the woven coils a soft tug - a silent request to come closer. Miri stands, winding her arms around his waist. Her hold is protective and possessive as she gazes up at him with a somewhat serious expression and blazing bright eyes.

“I can tell you’re troubled,” Gale speaks softly, as his eyes search her face. “You’ve got your ‘suspicious face’ on. What are you thinking?”

"I am unfamiliar with these customs," she murmurs softly. She takes a step closer, pressing tighter into his embrace. "I cannot help but be wary of a stranger's attention."

Gale wraps his arms loosely around her, pulling her close against his chest. His warmth, his scent surrounding her - a comfort. He can’t resist leaning in to plant a kiss against her forehead, his eyes falling shut as he breathes her in.

“I don’t blame you in the least, my love. With the way people have treated you, you’re right to be wary,” he assures her in a gentle murmur. Gale pulls her closer still, until his chin rests atop her head. “And I wouldn’t want anything to make you feel unsafe. You want me to toss the letter in the fire?”

Miri shakes her head. A small, endeared smile tugs at Gale’s lips. His hands smooth languid circles against her back.

“I understand.” He leans back to meet her gaze, his eyes full of patient warmth and deep affection. “I’m admittedly not particularly enthusiastic about strangers having an interest in us either. But I can’t help but want to know who they are. Don’t you?” Miri's hands tighten against him slightly and she huffs a sharp breath.

"They claim to be a dear friend of yours," she returns, still suspect. "I have contacts in Cloakwood... Perhaps I will send a message."

Gale huffs a soft, quiet laugh through his nose. He can’t help but love her protective instincts.

“Ah, my fierce protector, always with one paw between me and danger.” He gently pinches her chin between forefinger and thumb, tilting it up with a warm smile on his lips. “You’re adorable.”

Miri snorts a soft laugh, giving him a wry, chastising look.

"Be serious," she chides, though she can't suppress her half smile.

He feigns a pout, though his eyes gleam with a familiar mischief.

“I am serious,” he protests, gently pulling them closer together until not even a hint of space remains between them. “You are adorable. And I love you. It’s very serious.”

He leans in to press a light kiss to her forehead and against her cheek. Another, against her jaw. And lower, against her throat. His voice is a breath against her skin.

“Truly, I’m deathly serious…”

Miri looses a peal of giggles before she’s lost in his embrace for the next few hours. But in the morning, she sends Corvus off with a letter (in Elvish) to a friend in Cloakwood - another ranger faithful to Mielikki.

[shy-nightmare]

G’Day, Las Vegas!

@weaselnerd, @lastofautumn, @marinerainbow, @trashogram A.K.A. @mantisandthemoondragon, @spookiifi, @amberfox232, @just-kit-ink and everyone else who loves Slash and her amazing content, please give a round of applause for her and the Kangaroo King of Las Vegas, Kingston Roo 🤴🦘🤴!

This new gift drawing is for the Queen of Slashers herself, @slashingdisneypasta A.K.A. @wicked1will0sparkles 👸! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME DRAW YOUR BOY KINGSTON ❤💞💚💛💜💖💙💓💗💘💟💝💌💙💞💛❣💚💕❣💜💓💛💖!!! I know he looks a little off in the first panel, and I’m sorry 😭 Like I said, I’ve never drawn a kangaroo before 😅 I hope you and Kingston enjoy your gift drawing and this drabble I’ve conjured up with 😁🎁!

Kingston Roo belongs to @slashingdisneypasta

Shiny Weasel and Poppy O’Hare belong to @marinerainbow

The Twisted Toonz Twins belong to me

Warning: drunk dude trying to hit on Twyla (don’t worry, he gets his ass handed to him 😄👍)

~

It had been a while since Twisted Twyla Toonz visited Las Vegas.

Living a double life as a vigilante and a member of the Twisted Toon Gang doesn’t mean you stay in one place forever. Sometimes, you have to travel if you have a job out of town, so when you do, it’s always a good idea to enjoy the sights while you’re there. But since summer began, there have been fewer cases so far. And it had been almost four years since she and her family moved to Toontown, since the case that changed their lives for the better.

Twyla was really happy that it’s summer. Despite her grim upbringing and strong aversion to the blinding sunlight and scornful humidity, she learned to appreciate the good things about summer. Summer, with its abundance of golden sunshine and warm weather, serves as a beacon of joy, growth, and freedom. Passion blooms in the hearts of many like a flower that had just blossomed, youth rising from their family dwellings to play and explore the outdoors of the natural world, and many opportunities for renewal and rebirth last throughout the season now that spring has reached its course. Summer, the zenith of life and light before the last leaf falls.

She might as well enjoy, since Shiny and Poppy intend on becoming a part of hers. And vice versa.

Twyla glanced between her adoptive aunts as she sat in the middle of the back seat, completely bewildered at how this all happened. One minute she was minding her own business, next thing she knew, a shimmering 1930s' red-hot convertible drove up to her with the driver revealed to be Shiny. And before she could greet either of them, the brunette jill simply said, “Get in, sweet face. We’re going on a road trip.”

Within the blink of an eye, she yoinked the demon princess and drove away.

Throughout the trip, Twyla glanced around at their surroundings. Judging by the rugged canyons, vast mountains, and stunning landscapes, they must be currently driving in the Mojave National Preserve. While Twyla was not quite acquainted with the desert due to its extreme heatwaves, she had to admit there was something ethereal about it. It was quite a drive, and by the time they were halfway there, she noticed the sun was slowly beginning to set. The sky, once a bright clear blue, now descended into a canvas of cerulean blues with cloudy streaks of violet and golden flames rising from the remnants of sunlight. She could see the famous Joshua tree, a keystone species of the Mojave known for its saw-toothed appearance. Its spiky branches reach for the sky, as if rejoicing their success for the ecosystem and resilience against the hellish, sweltering climate. Flora and fauna of other kinds ornament the desert, like a mosaic of emeralds and other leafy gemstones luring curious tourists and other newcomers to discover the many secrets of life in the otherwise driest desert in the world.

After five minutes of awkward silence, she asked, “So, umm…where are we going?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather girl?” Shiny teased, lightly chuckling at her own joke.

“Come now, Shiny,” Poppy lightly scolded, unable to resist a giggle herself. “Tell her what this is all about.”

“OK, OK, honey,” her wife snickered before answering, “So Twyla, have you ever been to Las Vegas before?”

The horror halfie’s brows rose in surprise. “Las Vegas?” she pondered for a moment, then replied, “One time. Why?”

Poppy explained, “Since you moved in, we thought it would be a wonderful idea for you to meet some of our friends!”

Friends? The younger horror Toon tilted her head curiously. She glanced at Shiny, and the older hybrid finally gave in. “OK, here’s the reason for all of this. We know someone who lives in Vegas, and he wants to meet you.” She added, “We know that this is unexpected, but let’s just say a little birdie told him about you and now he’s curious,” she cast the doe a knowing, amused smirk.

Twyla followed her glance. Poppy’s face blushed bright pink, and she chuckled nervously while rubbing the nape of her neck. Twyla couldn’t help but smile in surprise. “Poppy?”

The rabbit’s blush deepened until she exasperatedly sighed, then admitted, “D’accord, you got me. But!” she pointed at Shiny, attempting to be assertive to no avail seeing the dancer’s smile increasing. “In my defense, he asked me how things were going in Toontown. And it’s been a while since we’ve last seen him.”

“Yeah, being the most powerful Toon boss in Vegas could certainly keep you occupied,” Shiny replied. Her smile remained warm and playful, and yet Twyla noticed there was something else hiding beneath her fellow hybrid’s eyes. Her eyes, usually two glimmering orbs of lime-painted emeralds, were sharply fixed on the road before them. While her body language was calm and nonchalant, her firm grasp on the steering wheel and unwavering focus was enough to tell the vigilante that there was something more about this road trip than she expected. And seeing the slight wary look in Poppy’s eyes confirmed there was something more about this friend of theirs.

Deciding to carry on the conversation, Twyla leaned forward and rested her forearm behind Shiny’s seat. “A Toon boss, huh? What kind are we talking here?”

The ladies exchanged a glance before Poppy answered happily, “A kangaroo.”

Hold on. What?

Twyla’s eyes went as wide as saucers, her mind going completely blank as if the world stopped its rotational axis. If she checked herself in the rearview mirror, she could’ve guessed she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her brain struggled to form words, or anything in particular, but eventually she stuttered, “A—A kangaroo?”

“Yep. And no, we’re not joking. A mob of Toon kangaroos live in Vegas.”

Vegas.

Has.

A.

Mob.

Of.

WHAT?!?!

Although she had never once visited Australia or encountered a kangaroo in twenty-two years of her life, she’s heard quite a lot of interesting stories about the iconic marsupial. An animal that has been quite a popular emblem of the country as well as its various forms of artwork created by the Aboriginals which have passed their traditions down from generation to generation, the kangaroo is cherished as a symbol of Australian identity, currency, and indigenous, cultural significance. Dreaming of a kangaroo can be often interpreted as a need to nurture or protect someone, as kangaroos often live and operate in mobs working together in order to live, survive, and prosper.   

However, what she has learned is that despite not being packed with potent venom that can cancel your life subscription or convert you into a KFC meal like other creatures in the Outback such as Tarantula Hawk wasps, Sydney Funnel Web spiders, snakes, stonefish, and even the adorable platypus, kangaroos can and will whoop your ass.

Known for their very powerful legs, the marsupials are far more than capable of delivering a fatal kick delivering 759 lbs of pure force and lethal 850 pounds per square that will literally crack bones. Not only that, but they have an incredible bite force that gives a grizzly bear a run for its money and are armed with MASSIVE combat knives for claws that can inflict deep wounds if their legs aren’t terrifying enough. And yet, despite the danger they are clearly capable of, some people and even other animals still think it would be a Fun Friday to try and mess with them.

Another thing to know is that not only are they fearsome in strength, but also in height. When she was little, Twyla always thought that kangaroos were life-sized walking plushies and Tom often joked about her jumping into a doe’s pouch since she was smaller than a joey. Until Adam brought up the fact that kangaroos are in fact, HUGE. No seriously, they’re not just taller than humans, some species of kangaroos can grow as tall as NINE FUCKING FEET! She herself is nearly 6’0, and yet she feels like she’s four years old again.

If getting kicked in the batteries doesn’t scare them, they’ll keep harassing them up until they try to challenge Australia’s NBA champions to a game of water wrestling…and they end up drowning to death.

Lesson learned; don’t fuck with Kangaroo Jack.

Still completely flabbergasted by this unexpected news, Twyla stammered, “I—I thought Jack was the only kangaroo in Vegas. I mean, it was all over the news!”

“Yeah, we don’t blame you for being surprised,” Shiny shrugged, trying not to laugh at the look on her adoptive niece’s face. “But what do you expect? It’s Vegas, after all.”

“…Fair point.”

“Anyway,” Poppy interjected, looking over to the younger lady with a warm smile. “That’s what this whole road trip is about. His name is Kingston, and I believe you two are going to get along just fine!”

Sure, like you didn’t say anything about Vegas selling real estate to a fucking mob of KANGAROOS!!! Twyla nodded, internally panicking. She really hoped that she makes a good first impression. Last thing she wants is to piss off a kangaroo.

After another while of sightseeing and driving, the girls finally arrived in the infamous Gambling Capital of the World, Las Vegas. The first time she arrived, it was sometime in the afternoon, and she was absolutely exhausted after spending several hours traveling in the Red Car. Now, she can truly see Nevada’s crown jewel for its proud, glamorous beauty.

Like a sparkle of fireflies, the city was illuminated in a bioluminescence of bright lights and colors. The sound of bustling cars, music, and laughter filled the evening air, singing a symphony of vitality provided by the spirit of Vegas. Its beloved landmarks were embellished in dazzling rainbow gemstones, each one shining brighter than the other. Even the Eiffel Tower at Paris Las Vegas, half the size of the original, was shining in crystalline, cognac stones of citrine, topaz, and golden sapphires. From a distance, she could see the Bellagio Fountains embodying the hotel she and her family spent the night in, their intricate watery gates rising up and down like elegant white sentinels dipped in a river of pearls.

The city is known and loved for its promises of escaping the world’s suffocating trenches of suppression, and yet there is a reason why it is also known as the Sin City. Since the day of its birth, Las Vegas has been and will always be an oasis of indulgence. Entertainment is their status quo, as far as Twyla knows. Gambling is their main product, sold on the market in the many casinos popping around the clock. The game of chance is played every single night, tempting many to risk everything they have for an opportunity to put money in their pockets. Some win, some lose.

Weary travelers and curious tourists are lured in like moths to Vegas’s flame, too blinded by its light to see the shadows lurking in the dark corners. And gambling doesn’t stop there; other forms of entertainment make the city shine. Pleasure and desire seduce many into their private chambers for a night of carnal passion, but what many are not aware of is that Vegas, very much like New York and Chicago, has its own underworld of crime. Theft and larceny are two of the common occurrences, but when you live in a city ruled by crime lords and share turf with gamblers and hustlers, look before you leap. As Hunter S. Thompson once said, “In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity”.

Las Vegas, a city of luck, glitz, and danger.

Once they passed through the traffic, Shiny secured a spot in the parking deck. “All right, we’re here.”

Hopping out of the car, Twyla stretched her limbs and followed, “So, where are we meeting him?”

“This is the Venetian,” Poppy answered, linking hands with her wife’s, “A 5-star resort and home to some of the finest restaurants in Las Vegas! They have everything from breakfast to dinner, and they have all sorts of wonderful treats! Their cuisines are absolutely magnifique, so it’s really hard to choose which one is your favorite! Not to mention, they’ve recently opened a breakfast bakery called Donutique, and their strawberry cheesecakes are delicious!”

“Yeah, but nothing beats your rhubarb poppyseed muffins,” Shiny added, leaning forward and giving her a light kiss on the cheek.

“Shiny!” The French seamstress bashfully giggled, pink hearts dancing around her head. Seeing these two show love and affection towards each other always makes Twyla’s dark, twisted heart soar without fail. And she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the singer attempting to fluster her sweet-natured wife even more with all her teasing. She had always felt a sense of warmth and protection whenever she was with her aunties, a feeling she had never felt in such a long time. The feeling of being safe around other people besides—

No.

The demoness’s eyes quickly sealed shut, shaking her head firmly while clutching her temple. With a great amount of force, she vanquished the memories back to the darkest corners of her mind before they could rise and overthrow her control of her sight. She remembered to focus on her other senses as much as she can to prevent the oncoming panic attack; she can hear cars roaring by and music playing, she can smell gasoline vapors permeating from the emissions, she can taste the warm air in and out of the parking deck, and she can only feel her own hands gingerly rubbing her arms. She took a slow, deep breath before finally opening her eyes.

She can only see her aunties Shiny and Poppy being the power couple they are. She’s with them, and they’re with her. She’s not alone, and she’s not in danger. She is safe.

Damn, that was a close one, Twyla thought and let out another sigh of relief before quickly catching up to them. They had already walked a few blocks and passed through the entrance, a myriad of unfamiliar faces, human and Toon, passing by while the ladies led the way. After a few more minutes of walking, Twyla found herself arriving in one of the restaurants, a lovely lounge located in the Palazzo Lobby known as LAVO. The whole cavern of the establishment was designed in fine Italian architecture consisting of warm wood, brick, and stone, softly lit up by seascape lights shining warmth and light in the charming lounge. Waiters and waitresses went on and about, serving one happy table to another. Stone mosaic floors ran through the entirety of the bistro, its custom-designed tiles smoothened like marble. The furniture was sewn in vibrant, classic Italian floral motifs accenting the Aztec dining chairs and bespoke furnishings while surrounding the tables, all decorated with little floral-designed lamps. And on the far side of the lounge, an ultra-chic bar proudly displayed its glamour while occupied by a Toon pronghorn bartender who looked not much older than her. Small antique red lamps ran across the curved countertop, giving a sense of contemporary style and playfulness.

Twyla looked around, completely astonished. This Kingston friend of Shiny’s and Poppy’s really knows how to pick a restaurant. A hostess welcomed the trio and politely informed them that their tables will be ready in a few minutes. “Don’t worry, take your time,” Poppy kindly assured her, and seeing the relived, grateful smile on the other woman’s face clearly sent the message. Either she’s overworked, or she doesn’t get much luck greeting considerate folks. Twyla hoped it wasn’t the latter; she’d hate to spill blood on her first trip to Vegas in years.

Shiny led the two towards the bar stools, deciding it would be a temporary spot to rest their legs while patiently waiting. Then she asked, “Twyla, the missus and I need to go do something really quick. Are you comfortable waiting here?”

The taller halfie nodded, “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll even ask for three glasses of water if you’re thirsty.”

Her aunt’s brows lightly furrowed, then glanced over at the bartender who was cleaning a glass. He met her gaze and gave her a brief nod, and the vigilante saw some tension leave Shiny’s shoulders. “OK. We won’t be gone long. Try not wander off, you hear?” she pointed a claw at her half-jokingly.

Twyla chuckled, “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

After watching her aunts head towards to wherever they needed to go, she rested her forearms on the smooth countertop and faced the pronghorn. “Can I have three waters, please?” she asked. He nodded, giving her a wink before leaning down to retrieve the glasses and the soda gun.

While waiting, Twyla looked around the bistro a second time. The energy here was surprisingly very pleasant, despite the busy staff tending to customers while preparing and delivering food. Everyone here was a human or a Toon, and they all looked so happy and lively tonight. Finding a joint with pleasant company was scarce, even before she and her family left Chicago. Although she herself isn’t exactly the social butterfly type, she appreciated going somewhere with her friends and pack when they’re not busy with a case. Things have been so hectic lately, she’s really glad it’s summer now.

Her train of thoughts hit the brakes when someone rudely interrupted her.

“Well, damn, what do we have here~?” a male Toon bobcat took a seat next to hers, sitting a little too close for her comfort. And God, he was absolutely wasted; his breath reeked of vodka and gin, and Twyla could see a few spill drops staining his disheveled short-sleeved summer beach shirt. His eyes trailed up and down in a once-over, his face plastered in a sleazy grin as he wrapped a burly arm around her shoulders. “What’s a ssshexy little thing like you doin’ here, huh?” his speech was slurred, fumbling with his words as he struggled to maintain balance on his stool.

Twyla’s ears lowered, her fur bristling due to the unwanted contact. She struggled to come up with an answer as he just continued to gaze at her with those eyes leering at her face, then her cleavage. Yep, he’s drunk off his ass.

“Barry,” the feline’s grin dropped at the sharp mention of his name before glaring at the bartender who was now standing to his full height. His dark eyes pierced into the bobcat’s while clutching onto the soda gun. “You’re not welcome here, and she doesn’t like you touching her like that. Back. Off.”

The bobcat, Barry, only brushed off the pronghorn. “Aw, come on, Petro! Live a little, will ya? I’m just bein’ friendly with this sweet little lady,” he glanced at her again. “Ain’t that right, babe?”

She saw the pronghorn’s jaw clench and a muscle tick. The guy looked like he was trying not to lose his cool for the sake of professionalism, but Twyla could tell he really just wanted to sock this creep’s face. Unfortunately, it didn’t help ease her increasing anxiety. The last time she tried to talk to a drunk man did not end well, and she wasn’t sure how this guy was going to react if she even does so much as politely ask him to remove his hand from her shoulder.

Suddenly, a hand grasped onto the back of his collar and yanked him off his seat.

Twyla felt her necklace warning her of a strong, dominant aura making their presence known. She flinched, not from fear though, and she felt relieved for some reason. A groan brought her attention back to the Toon bobcat, who apparently fell flat on his face from the way he was gingerly rubbing his forehead. Barry bared his fangs, ready to cuss at whoever ruined his idea of a fun night.

“Hey, who the fuck do you think you—” his face instantly paled several shades of white, catlike eyes shrinking into petrified pinprick pupils. Twyla slowly turned in his direction and was stumped at the sight of who came to her rescue.

A kangaroo, a male Toon kangaroo. He stood over three feet tall in height, a few inches taller than Wheezy while being slightly shorter than Greasy, and his presence was one of power and respect. His fur was a shade or two of dark brown warming the tips of his ears to the length of his long tail, save for his throat, chest, and underbelly painted in light peanut butter. Dark brown fur warmed his arms and legs adorned with black claws. And they packed heavy muscle. He wore nearly all black; an old, thin black blazer over a teal button-up dress shirt with the collar being undone and revealing a bit of his muscular visage, and he wore matching pants. The only article of his clothing that wasn’t black besides his shirt was the light blue fedora perched on his head, banded with a navy-blue ribbon. He glared down at the drunken wildcat with a sharp, frightening brown eye dark burning with rage flashing like lightning while a black eyepatch veiled the right side of his face, giving Twyla the impression that he must have lost his eye in a brutal, bloody fight.

“I thought,” the roo growled, his voice raspy and thick with Aussie authority, “I told ya to get your ass out of my city.”

Your city? Twyla asked, giving him a brief once-over. After glancing between him, Barry, and the pronghorn, the realization dawned upon her as soon as she connected the dots. His attire of choice and fierce presence should’ve been her first clue. Las Vegas is his territory, and he must be a mob boss.

“P-Please, Mr. Roo!” Barry pleaded, his whiskers quivering fearfully as the marsupial continued to glower at him. “I—I wasn’t doin’ anything, I swear!” he pointed at Twyla, “She’s the one who started this! She got me drinkin’, and—”

“Oh, cut the shit!” the shorter Toon barked, baring his teeth in a menacing snarl as the fire in his eye intensified. He took an angry step forward, prompting the wildcat to get up and back the fuck off. The kangaroo pointed, “I could smell you all the way from the terrace, and I saw you puttin’ your filthy hands on her! What, you thought I wouldn’t catch your ass? You think you’re slick? Get in line, motherfucker!”

By now, Barry was hurriedly walking backwards towards the entrance, bumping into tables and some of the employees. They all glared at him disgruntledly, shoving him out of the way as they went about their rounds. Still, the mobster continued to stare deep into his core and followed the feline’s movements. Noticing him coming, everyone cleared the path not out of fear, but out of respect for his space. And then, out of the blue, he leaned back on his tail and kicked Barry in the BATTERIES.

Holy shit! Twyla’s jaw dropped in gobsmacked astonishment as the bobcat was literally sent flying across the lounge until his ass landed on the entrance, screaming and yowling in agonizing pain as he curled up in a ball. Mr. Roo hopped up to the intoxicated, unwelcome guest and grabbed him by the shirt, forcing him to look him right in the eye.

“Listen very closely, you booze-brained, drunk-ass son of a bitch,” he seethed, and Barry’s fur stood up in horror-stricken bristles hearing the very threatening, ominous undertone in his deep, roughened voice. “This is your last and final warning. If I ever see you in Vegas again, I will drag your flea-bitten soul straight down to hell!”  

Without giving him a chance to speak, he tossed Barry’s ass out of LAVO. The bobcat regained his balance and hightailed it out of the Venetian faster than a cheetah’s sprint. As soon as he was gone, a round of applause cheered for the Aussie gangster, and Twyla couldn’t help but clap for him as well. He turned to face his audience and politely bowed. “Thank you, thank you! You’re too kind!” he thanked them, laughing.

He dusted off his hands, “All right, everyone back to enjoying yourselves! Show’s over.”

The crowd nodded, going back to chatting to their friends and loved ones while harvesting their meals and beverages. Twyla noticed her rescuer walking towards the bar, and the bartender called out for his attention. “I’m so sorry, Kingston. This is my fault,” he apologized, his ears drooping in shame and guilt. “I should’ve known he was coming here, and I should’ve gotten rid of him myself.”

Wait, Twyla’s eyes widened. She glanced at the kangaroo again, even more stumped. This is Kingston? Her eyes blinked, totally bumfuzzled as her brain struggled to comprehend the revelation. After giving him a brief once-over, she covered her mouth to prevent a giggle rising up the back of her throat.

Oh, my God. She smiled behind her hand, trying really, really hard not to crack up. He is so tiny!

Her hero, Kingston, hoisted himself on the chair he yanked the bobcat off before gently patting the pronghorn’s forearm. “Nah, it ain’t your fault, Petro,” he kindly assured the bartender, not a single trace of anger or disappointment found in his response. “He’s always been a sneaky fucker. I don’t blame you.”

The jack then turned to give her an apology. “You all right, sheila? Sorry about that, gotta keep the vermin out—” he stopped mid-sentence, his eye wide and jaw dropped at the sight of her.

For a moment there, Twyla thought she had something on her face. She was about to ask him if something was wrong, until the roo’s surprise vanished and his lips broadened into a wide grin. “Oh, somebody get me a glass!” he leaned his forearm on the countertop, his smile becoming somewhat flirtatious. He winked, “Because I just found me a tall, dark Full Moontini~”

Twyla’s face blushed, not expecting that compliment. “Oh, stop it,” she lightly giggled, unable to hold back a laugh. This guy just saves her and now he’s flirting with her. First a weasel gangster, then a talking taxi cab, now a kangaroo mob boss? And she calls Tom a babe magnet.

Petro delivered their drinks; three ice-cold waters for the ladies and a craft beer for Kingston. “On the house,” he nodded, “Enjoy your drinks.”

“Thanks, mate,” Kingston raised his glass in thanks before taking a swig. Gulping, he exhaled before glancing at the three beverages. He arched a brow, smirking, “Three waters, eh? Were you runnin’ on your way here?” he joked.

Twyla chuckled, shaking her head before she sipped her water. “I’m not that fast. Who do you think I am, Roadrunner?” she snickered, then imitated the avian’s classic “Beep-beep!”. Seeing her joke made the male marsupial laugh, she added. “Nah, I came here with my aunts Poppy and Shiny. They should be on their way back now, and—”

“Wait.” Her response was cut short, trailing a bit as she noticed the surprise on his face. He gazed at her, the dazed curiosity was apparent. “Poppy and Shiny? As in, Poppy O’Hare and Shiny Weasel?” he asked. “What did you say your name was?”

"Twyla,” the ravenette answered, nodding. She smiled warmly and offered her hand for a handshake, “Twyla Toonz. Poppy mentioned me, remember?”

Kingston continued to gape at her, as if he was completely stunned. Twyla remembered Shiny saying that her wife was, in fact, the one who mentioned her to him the last time they talked, and he wanted to meet her. Still, she wasn’t sure what he was thinking right now. She was about to ask him if he was all right when the kangaroo kindly took her hand in his.

“Welcome to Las Vegas, love,” he greeted her, kissing her hand.

Twyla’s eyes nearly went as wide as saucers, genuinely taken back from his greeting. Her cheeks were kissed in vibrant shades of blushing pink, burning as hot as the scorching heat in the desert. Did…did he literally just kiss her hand like they’re meeting at a grand ball like Cinderella and Prince Charming? Unable to help herself, she quickly covered her face with both hands in attempt to hide her beet-red face and the embarrassing squeal whenever she gets flustered.

OhmyGodI’mbeingflirtedwithbyakangaroomobbossinLasVegas! She screamed in her mind, her brain too scrambled to form proper words. Or anything at all. Seriously, what is it with handsome, badass Toon criminals giving her all the attention here?! Perhaps this is what Tom meant back at Eddie’s apartment the first morning of the case.

Meanwhile, Kingston guffawed at the crystal-eyed beauty’s adorable attempt to hide her reaction. Even her ears had turned pink and drooped bashfully, making the urge to boop her cute puppy snoot grow stronger and stronger. Shiny’s right, he smiled. She is just so damn precious.      

As soon as the jill’s name popped into his mind, he suddenly remembered something. Like he had forgot something very important. Wait. He looked around, spotting every recognizable face in the establishment. If Twyla’s here, where’s her brother?

Suddenly, he felt an ice-cold shiver run down his spine. Every muscle in his body tensed as his heart unexpectedly began to pound rapidly against his ribcage with a growing sense of fear and dread. He saw every fur on his arms stood up in stiff, rigid bristles the colder he got. Glancing around, he noticed that no one else was affected by the alarming change of atmosphere; they all just ate, talked, drank, and enjoyed the night. Even Petro didn’t notice anything, he diligently focused on his duties. A looming shadow towered over him right beside Twyla, and Kingston’s heart stopped at the sight of the newcomer.

Staring him right in the eye was another horror Toon, a young but equally ferocious Rubberhose Toon wolf. He stood at an imposing 6’0 in height, making the kangaroo feel no larger than a mouse. Despite his lean sinewy figure, his arms were imbued with unbelievable strength and power. His fur was inky black, coating the tips of his sharp, pointed ears all the way to his tail in thick layers of dark fur and his head was a wild mess of short, scruffy jet-black hair adorned by unkempt bangs. Although he had no whiskers, there was no doubt he tracked his sister and the ladies all the way from Toontown to Vegas with his keen sense of smell. Like Kingston, he wore dark clothing. He dressed sharply in a double-breasted suit jacket over a crisp silver dress shirt held back by a dark tie with unwrinkled matching chain-embedded trousers, and polished black Oxfords. He also wore a black fedora strapped with a silver-grey band, casting a shadow over his frightening glare that was slowly dripping a few trails of ink. His eyes, one of them marked by a scar, were solid pitch-black, piercing deep into Kingston’s soul like bullets with two lethal pie-cut pupils glowing in hellish, blood-red fury.

There was no doubt his guy right here is Tom, Twyla’s crazy-ass overprotective twin brother. And Kingston could have sworn he saw a pair of razor-sharp spikes growing out of his arms.

“G’day…mate,” his Chicago-graveled voice made the marsupial’s blood run cold hearing the guttural, otherworldly growl in his greeting.

“Ohhhhhh….shit.”

Five minutes later…

Shiny and Poppy made their return to the busy lounge, politely excusing themselves through the crowd. Much to Shiny’s relief, Twyla was still waiting for them at the bar.

“Twyla, we’re back— Sacré bleu!” Poppy’s eyes widened in shocked alarm, her hands rising to her face. Shiny followed her wife’s gaze and found herself as bewildered as she was at the scene before her.

“OH, JESUS CHRIST!!! HELP ME!!!!” Kingston Roo, the most feared Toon crime boss in all of Las Vegas, was running for his life while literally being chased by her adoptive nephew. That’s not something you see every day.

They noticed Ryan walking his way towards them and judging by his heavy breathing and the few tears on his shirt, he must have tried to stop Tom to no avail. He didn’t even need to greet them, seeing the smug smile on Shiny’s face while Poppy continued to stare in shellshocked surprise. “Hey, Ryan,” Shiny greeted him, struggling not to laugh at the other roo’s exasperated glare. “I see you and Kingston met Tom.”

“Oh, don’t you start,” Ryan snapped, struggling to breathe properly while motioning to the gunslinger hellbent on kicking Kingston’s ass as he panted loudly, “You…you never said he was this crazy! What were you thinking?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the dancer shrugged half-heartedly, feigning innocence in her eyes and smile. “Behind all of that tough-guy grit, Tom is just a big, fluffy puppy.”

~

Oh, Tom is a puppy, all right. A demonic puppy maxed out on speed and strength 🤣 But don’t worry, King! He’s really sweet once you get to know him 😊! Oh, and he knows to how handle a gun too 😅

Anyways, thank you so much, Slash! Hope you enjoy 🤗❤🤗!

[amtrak12]

I've got my Bering and Wells gift exchange fic fully outlined now 🥰 I'm sooooo excited to bring it to life.

[hannie-dul-set]

i said i wasn't gonna write the citt inspired sunghoon fic idea crawling around in my brain but i've been getting ideas and now my outline document is at 2k.

[wexhappyxfew]

friends we have hit the writing era of ATTDC with D-Day and the introduction to all the other OFCs that i’ve been alluding to here and there (margot, lucy, rolande, millie, yvette, etc…. WOOOOOO!!!!)

[famousinmyfandom]

Love being the first to write a ship but I hate being the first to write a ship but I love being the first to write a ship but I hate-

[kuiinncedes]

c:

[haml3t]

I was (half) joking abt start charging my bf a retainer bc by his own admission I am his lawyer at this point like bro if you're gonna keep me up until 5am asking for legal advice preventing me from doing my actual law homework..

[wallofchynax]

Oh my gosh, I love your "prove the legacy" fanfic so much so far! I hope you continue it and write more. Kiran and Shawn have a bit of tension but I can see he is starting to care for the girl haha

btw, who do you have in mind on Kiran looking like?

Awww thank you!! I’m having an absolute ball writing it and I tend on continuing it to the bitter end! 🥰 I am glad the dynamic between Shawn and Kiran is coming across well as I’ve been enjoying writing it and working it out a lot!!

In terms of appearance for Kiran, I’ve been mulling it over because it’s important to me that I chose someone that is has a strong physique because her attention to her training is quite important to her character but my knowledge of celebrities is kinda poor sometimes (and I didn’t want to choose an already established wrestler) ! But I settled on Alicia Vikander because she fits the bill for me in terms of what I have in mind.

[moondustbaby]

Hi girly!! Can I please request for a rafe fic with the “my current boyfriend” trend on tiktok. Like i can imagine him being so pressed about it lol

Thank you 🤩

“My Current Boyfriend”

pov: You try to do the “current boyfriend” prank during a fit check and forget Rafe has zero chill.

⸻

Your phone’s angled up on the windowsill, and the little red recording light flashes just as Rafe wanders into frame, finishing off the rest of his Gatorade.

You smile sweetly at the camera. “Okay, hi guys! I’m here with my current boyfriend and we’re gonna do a little fit check—”

Rafe chokes.

“Current boyfriend??” he blurts out, eyebrows shooting up like you just announced a funeral and a baby shower in one sentence.

You keep going like nothing happened. “So I’m wearing this cute little set from—”

“Hold on,” Rafe interrupts, stepping fully in front of you to stare into the camera. “Did you just say current boyfriend like there’s gonna be a next one?”

You bite your lip, playing innocent. “I mean… I’m just saying current like…present-tense.”

Rafe stares you down. “Nah. Say only boyfriend. Say forever boyfriend. Say will-haunt-you-if-you-leave-me boyfriend.”

“Rafe—”

He turns to the camera again, pointing at himself. “This isn’t a subscription. This isn’t a trial period. There’s no 7-day free access to Rafe Cameron dot com. I’m a lifetime warranty.”

You snort.

Rafe starts pacing in frame, waving his arms. “Current. That’s wild. That’s actually insane. Do you know how many sandwiches I’ve made for you? You think this is a seasonal man??”

“Okay but the outfit—”

“No. Tell them where my hoodie’s from. Tell them it’s the same one you stole six months ago. Tell them it smells like me and now you can’t sleep without it.”

You break into laughter, camera wobbling as Rafe marches over and grabs your face between his palms, all dramatic and pouty.

“Say you love me.”

“Rafe—”

“Say it or I’ll post that picture of you crying over the finale of Bake Off.”

You’re breathless from laughing. “Okay! Okay. I’m here with my forever boyfriend.”

Rafe nods like a smug menace. “That’s what I thought.”

And then—because he’s Rafe—he slaps your ass, winks at the camera, and says, “Fit check: mine.”

a/n: i hadn’t seen this tiktok prank until today when leah and miguel (s6 love island peeps) video popped up on my fyp, this was a fun one to write and rafe would definitely crash out a bit lmao. thank you for the req nonnie!! 🫶🏻

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

[spainkitty]

Worldstate:

DAO/A

- Warden-Commander Danae Tabris

- King Alistair & Queen Anora rule jointly (purely political but has become friendly)

- 💖 Leliana

- ✔️ Dark Ritual

- Allied with the Architect

DA2

- F!Mage Marian Hawke (Blue)

- 💖 Polycule (the whole group (minus Seb😘) is a messy web of friendship/with benefits/romantic/frenemies)

- Sided with Mages & JusAnders

- Fugitive Ending

[najaemism]

i have two mini smaus planned for haechan and i cant decide which one to do first sooooo u decide for me :p i'll be posting both, this just determines which one gets posted first 😁

both are fluff btw but one is more crack-ish 😎🤞🏼

one is x reader/college!au/shorter (2-3 parts) while the other is x oc/celeb!au/a bit longer (3-5 parts) ... not saying which is which though :p

whichever wins will be posted within this week!

as for the other au... im not sure when actually HAHAHAHA

[httpsserene]

hobby hopper — 𝐟𝐚. 𝟏𝟒 fernando alonso x brazilian!fem!reader requested! by @loomiscorpse. smau. fluff and humor.

synopsis: nobody can keep up with your growing list of hobbies, except fernando.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. written for @loomiscorpse 🤍 i promised that i would write this for you in july and i finally found the time to fulfill it! this is how i learned fernando has a back tat. what rock have i been living under? happy reading, babes xxx

(in case i'm m.i.a., there's a category 5 hurricane that's looks pretty serious. i'm probably going to have a power outage. prayers to anyone else in the path of the storm, evacuate if you're on the west coast, and stay safe.)

⌕ join taglist | feedback & requests | upcoming chapters | table of contents ↻

igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!

[caption1; sip and paint with the ladies 👩🏽‍🎨🎨 carmenmmundt kellypiquet][caption2; for my first painting, this is good right?]

alexandrasaintmleux: i'll put it in a gallery 🤩 alexandrasaintmleux: i can't believe i'm friends with the best artist of our time 😌 yourinstagram: alex pleaseee omg 😳🤭 yourinstagram: you realize that means you think i'm better than claude monet right ? alexandrasaintmleux: ,,,second best artist of our time yourinstagram: 😆😆😆

fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful 😍 yourinstagram: you really think so??? fernandoalo_official: yes i like what you did with the colors and brush strokes of course yourinstagram: what detailed compliments meu bem 😂

carmenmmundt: i still don't believe that you've never painted before 🤨 carmenmmundt: you did so well !!!!!! yourinstagram: thank you my love 🥰 yourinstagram: i think i am going to keep painting. it was very fun! carmenmmundt: you should! you're quite good at it :)

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by heidiberger_, fernandoalo_official, francisca.cgomes and 101,723 others

yourinstagram encontro noturno em cores 🖼️

view comments

user1: ptbr to eng translation "date night in color 🖼️"

user2: wow!!! you improved so much already! have you been taking lessons?

➥ yourinstagram: thank you! the only lessons i'm learning are from youtube haha ➥ yourinstagram: and i have painted every day since i started! ➥ user3: you definitely have a natural talent for this! and a lot of potential!!! ➥ user4: it's taken me years to develop a minimal understanding of color theory and shadows. she's done it in two weeks 😕

user5: i know leonardo hates that he didn't paint this 😩😩😩

➥ user6: he's rolling in his grave for sureeee 🙂‍↕️ ➥ user7: bitch why tf would a ninja turtle be mad about this ☠️ ➥ user8: leonardo DA VINCI YOU UNEDUCATED CUR ➥ user7: my fault forgot the turtle wasn't the only person named leo 🫣🫠 ➥ user8: HOW DO YOU FORGET THE MAN WHO PAINTED THE MONA LISA ⁉️⁉️⁉️

pepemartiofficial: i loved doing art in school! i can teach you a few things if you want 😁😁😁

➥ yourinstagram: you mean primary school? which was like last year for you? i think i'll pass garoto 🥴 ➥ fernandoalo_official: josep maria marti sobrepepa don't piss me off. ➥ fernandoalo_official: test me and you can say goodbye to a formula one seat. ➥ user9: ain't no way pepe just tried to step to fernando's girl who's TEN !!! years older than him ➥ pepemartiofficial: shhh i can be mature for her 🤤 ➥ fernandoalo_official: count your days 🥱

carlossainz55: the painting is really good, you made the water look so realistic!

➥ yourinstagram: obrigada carlitos! ➥ carlossainz55: where's fernando's painting 😈 ➥ yourinstagram: it was very good! but he did not want me to post a photo of it :((( ➥ fernandoalo_official: it was very ugly carlos 🙄 ➥ yourinstagram: it was not that bad i just could not tell that it was supposed to be a tiger and not a house cat that was struck by lightning 😅 ➥ carlossainz55: i will pay to see this painting 🤣🤣🤣

twitter

igstory • astonmartinf1 just uploaded!

[caption1; admin was just forcibly handed bear coasters ??? she said they remind her of lance 🐻][caption2; the crochet culprit is on to her next project!]

user: lance bear agenda still going strong 💪

lance_stroll: i want bear coasters 😞 astonmartinf1: meet me downstairs, she gave me extras to hand out to the team lance_stroll: she's the best 🤩🤩🤩 lance_stroll: see you in 5?

user: DUDE she's onto clothes already??? how?!!!

user: admin i need you to send me photos of that sketchbook 👺🤲🏻 user: i need her patterns admin i'm not playing around astonmartinf1: lol get blocked loser 💀

instagram • fernandoalo_official

liked by carlossainz55, lance_stroll, yourinstagram and 234,586 others

fernandoalo_official there is yarn and hooks in my car. this has gone too far.

view comments

yourinstagram: you make a man a shirt with the materials HE bought for you and it's a problem. ungrateful behavior nano 😤

➥ fernandoalo_official: the shirt is very nice i even posed for a picture. all i ask is for no hooks to be left in the cupholders? ➥ yourinstagram: can we compromise and i leave them in the glove box 🥺

user10: let me get this straight: you crochet for a month and suddenly you become a fashion designer?

➥ yourinstagram: not a month, three weeks* i have been crocheting ➥ user11: oh fuck off- how are you good at everything 😩😩😩 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not! and i still cannot make a granny square no matter how hard i try to ☹️ ➥ user12: you don't need to know how to make a granny square when you can make actual pieces of clothing!!!

landonorris: may i have something crocheted too?

➥ yourinstagram: what would you like landinho 😊 ➥ landonorris: may i have a beanie? or a sweater?? ➥ georgerussell: ooooh i'd like a beanie too! ➥ francisca.cgomes: i want that top you're wearing! or something similar!!!! ➥ lance_stroll: what about earmuffs? ➥ lilymhe: a cardigan would be so nice ➥ charlesleclerc: i want a sweater!!! ➥ fernandoalo_official: leave her alone you greedy children 👹 ➥ yourinstagram: ignore him! text me what you all want with inspiration photos and i will let you know!!!

messages • sebastian -> fernando

igstory • yourinstagram just uploaded!

[caption1; hobby update >>>][caption2; to the woman at the craft store who put me onto oil paints...you saved my life][caption3; the wag crochet requests are almost finished!][caption4; first pottery class! had a really fun time :)]

user: i-i need to sit down👄 user: how do you even have time to do all of this?

user: i feel like i've never taken my hobbies seriously after seeing this

user: ffs how long have you been doing pottery? user: it's hard to learn at first but it's worth it if you stay committed 🫶🏽

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by charlesleclerc, lilymhe, francolapinto, and 192,037 others

yourinstagram que divertido! thrown, painted, and fired by me 🌸

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user13: this is a reminder that there's always somebody out there doing what you love better than you 😒

➥ user14: wasn't she JUST at her first pottery class? and she already has a set of dishware 😨

user15: i feel like i have to apologize for even attempting pottery

user16: i would hate to give my gift after her on birthdays and christmas 😬😬😬

➥ user17: valid take. she can make custom clothes, paintings, and ceramics??? i might as well not even show up 🤦🏻‍♀️

kellypiquet: where do you even find the time to do this?

➥ yourinstagram: i have not slept for more than five hours in a very long time. it also distracts me when nano is away so, i keep myself busy. ➥ kellypiquet: please take better care of yourself! the clay will be there after you sleep and i'm sure fernando would like you to sleep too. ➥ fernandoalo_official: 8 hours at least mi amor ❤️ ➥ yourinstagram: fiiiiine 😞

lance_stroll: bring the domino set next time! i want to learn how to play!!!

➥ yourinstagram: i will make you cry if we play dominoes 🤫

user18: you need to start an etsy shop or smth? i think anybody would buy something from you!

➥ yourinstagram: if i do that, i'm afraid it would stop being a hobby and become a job. i don't want to lose the love i have for them :) user19: you could do limited releases? or just list a few items at a time? yourinstagram: i guess that's true. i don't think i will though, i didn't start my hobbies to make money. it's just fun for me 😁

twitter

igstory • fernandoalo_official just uploaded!

[caption; onto the next obsession]

user: damn you didn't lie about the entire botantical collection 😧 user: she's crazy user: i respect her grind though

user: and she made them look like actual boquets 😍 user: why didn't i think of that???

yourinstagram: they are not obsessions. yourinstagram: the proper term is hobby, we have talked about this nano 😒 fernandoalo_official: do you want the vespa or the bonsai…🤨 yourinstagram: both por favor! and get the porsche 911 kit while you are there 😚😚😚😚😚😚

user: she crocheted her own cover up dress user: i love women 🙂‍↕️

instagram • yourinstagram

liked by fernandoalo_official, kellypiquet, landonorris, and 317,940 others

yourinstagram um hobby? ok. quatro hobbies ao mesmo tempo? não repita meus erros 🤕

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user20: ptbr to eng translation "one hobby? ok. four hobbies at the same time/once? do not repeat my mistakes 🤕"

➥ user21: thank u translator woman ➥ user22: thank u translator woman ➥ gabrielbortoleto_: thank u translator woman ➥ user24: one of these things is not like the others 🧐

landonorris: can't wait till it gets chilly in monaco 😌

➥ landonorris: the only thing i'm going to be photographed in is my crochet beanie and sweater ➥oscarpiastri: i'm surprised you're not wearing it now since you're perpetually cold ➥ landonorris: i didn't want to bring it in my luggage in case it's the time i lose my luggage 🤓 ➥ oscarpiastri: wow…that's smart ➥ landonorris: why do you sound so surprised 🤨

lilymhe: i see you learned how to make granny squares 😆

➥ yourinstagram: it took me three whole days to make one 🤧 ➥ lilymhe: damn 💀 ➥ yourinstagram: i am not lying when i say making that first granny square was harder than making your cardigan 😮‍💨

fernandoalo_official: is it weird if i feel proud of you?

➥ yourinstagram: i think it is something to be proud of :) ➥ fernandoalo_official: well i am very proud of you mi amor 😘 ➥ yourinstagram: 🥰😚😚❤️❤️❤️

user25: those paintings!!!! woah, you're like a serious artist now 😨😳😱

➥ user26: fr! you can see her own unique style clearly in these! ➥ yourinstagram: you all are too sweet! it took me a while to switch from reference painting into creating my own art pieces! ➥ alexandrasaintmleux: i wasn't joking when i said i want to put your work in a gallery 🤭🥱 ➥ yourinstagram: alex pleaseee 😖

user28: what are you going to do next? book binding LMAO

➥ yourinstagram: you are right! nano is out buying the supplies for me now 😁 ➥ user28: i was joking 😟 ➥ yourinstagram: and after that i think i am going to learn how to make a cute scrapbook!

© httpsserene - do not reupload. photos used are from pinterest. divider from @cafekitsune.

[dannyriccsystem]

ok on the topic of lando and tate songs… 2 hands x lando 🫣 i would totally love to see you write it AAAHHHHH

NEED A LITTLE LESS TALK, AND A LOT MORE TOUCH!

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

SUMMARY: Lando fic inspired by Tate McRae’s 2 Hands!

WARNINGS: Suggestive, touch starved reader, slightly angsty w happy ending, Y/N usage, not proofread

FEATURING: Lando Norris x Ex!Reader

NOTE: I’ve never actually listened to Tate before the other request I got 😭 Her music is actually really good! But anyway this is request #32!

lando

liked by mclaren and others

lando Work lately 🤩

—

username1 - LAANNDOO 😍😍

username2 - God he’s so fine and he knows it 😩

username3 - Hello handsome

username4 - On everyone’s soul, Norris is winning the 2025 WDC

username5 - WHEWWWW

mclaren - Sleeping on the job?! Fired!

♥︎ by author

lando - Oh no!!!

username6 - please 😂 get this crybaby off your team

> username7 - Shut the fuck up you miserable idiot

> username8 - clocked

username9 - Out here posting thirst traps while everyone else is working hard 😬

username10 - “thirst traps” and they’re regular pictures 💔 jobs bro, jobs.

> username11 - Afraid to admit Lando is objectively attractive

username12 - Y/N doesn’t know what she’s lost 💔

username13 - She knows babes. She just doesn’t care

You hated parties, which is why you didn’t know exactly why you were here now. The house had been packed with dancing, sweaty bodies that cheered and shouted out lyrics to raunchy songs, and spilt their drinks stored in red solo cups all over the hard wood flooring. The lights were so bright, the voices were so loud, and the music was shaking you.

You could still hear it seeping out as you stood on the back deck, leaning against the railing. Fairy lights twinkled against the black blanket of the night sky, scattered with diamond-like stars, shimmering so softly. Laughter and rap songs echoed within the thin walls of whoever’s house it was— You couldn’t even remember— making it hard to focus.

For a moment, it got louder as you heard the sliding glass door swiftly open, and then a soft suction sound as it was shut once more. You froze up, blinking in surprise. You weren’t expecting company. Not when there was fun to be had elsewhere.

“You still do this,” That voice sent a shiver down your spine. You unconsciously squeezed your drink that had remained untouched throughout the night. The ice had fully melted by now, turning the red liquid into a soft pink color.

Lando settled in beside you, leaving a comfortable distance that you yearned to shut. He looked so good— So comfortable, like he was free from the shackles of your relationship. You looked away, out towards the view of the moon reflected on shifting waters backdropped with rolling hills. “Do what?” You could barely hear yourself.

“You leave parties to sulk outside by yourself, like the world’s too loud for you.” He looked directly at you, paralleling the way you avoided his entrancing eyes. A soft laugh left your lips as you looked down, your lips twitching into a half assed smile.

“Sometimes it is,” You replied, fidgeting with the ring on your right hand. “You’re still paying attention to me,” You pointed out as a rebuttal.

“It’s hard not to.” You didn’t know what to say to that, because his words felt uncomfortably intimate, just like they did when you were dating. It should have been fine, but he could never match such sweet words with his actions.

A silence washed over you two. He stared at you for what felt like hours before eventually looking away, and what used to be comfortable started to feel… Awkward. It was jagged, a silence coated in spikes that grew with every second.

“I didn’t think you’d show up.” He finally filled the quiet air, helping to drown out all the background noise. You were surprised nobody came to look for him yet; Lando was always the life of the party. You were told you usually killed it off.

“I wasn’t planning on it, originally.” You looked over to him, your eyes locked onto his. When he matched your gaze, he seemed to let his eyes wander, giving you a once over that made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You found yourself swooning internally, and that made you feel ill simultaneously.

“You look nice.” You hummed as a reply. It seemed like silence was on the brink of taking over once more, but Lando was insistent on taking the wheel. “You always show up when I’m just starting to forget about you, and then I have to start over.”

“Well, sorry.” You said rather dramatically. You stood up, pushing yourself off the railing with a sigh. His gaze followed you, his body still hunched over to rest against it. “I should go.”

“Why?” He wasted no time in replying, brows just slightly furrowed. If you looked for too long, you could see his bottom lip jutted out in the softest of pouts— So you looked away.

“Because you’re hard to resist, but I know you can’t give me the love I want.” When you turned around, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, his fingers drifting away when your attention was redirected. You turned your head fast, shooting him a glare.

He met you with a determined expression, hands retracting back into his jacket’s pockets. “And what would that be?”

It was frustrating how he suddenly pretended to care, especially now that it didn’t matter. You reeled your hands back away from him, shaking it off as if you were shaking his touch away. You crossed your arms over your chest. “I told you I needed more. I told you I needed to feel wanted-”

“I did want you.” He cut you off with a firm expression, his lips drawn into a tight line. “I do want you.” Fuck, that stung a lot.

“Then why did it feel like I had to earn your touch?” His fists clenched in his pockets. You were so close, about a foot away, but you felt galaxies apart from him. It was like trying to push two positive ends of a magnet together— You kept slowly drifting away from him.

He watched the goosebumps appear along your arms, your hairs standing on end. Without a second thought, he began to shed his jacket. You recognized it, of course. It was the one you always stole. “I’m not wired the same as you, Y/N. I didn’t know that was something you needed.”

Your expression softened as he slowly reached around you, carefully draping his jacket over your shoulders. His hands lingered for a moment, enjoying the warmth of your skin against his. Your eyes drifted down, heart pounding in your chest. You hated this. You hated how bad you loved him.

“I did want to touch you.” He breathed out, his eyes drifting down to take you in like you were the most beautiful piece of art. “I just didn’t know you needed it to believe I loved you.” He appreciated the sight of you in his clothes. It was a familiar feeling.

Your throat burned, and your eyes filled with tears. Your shaky voice replied with a question, “And now?” He looked back up— He really looked at you, his expression matching the look of a man in love.

“I’d touch you every minute of our lives if it meant you’d give me a second chance.” He spoke sincerely, taking a small step forward.

You nearly melted, leaning forward to press your forehead against his. It was a moment of vulnerability, finally letting yourself give in. You should be allowed to be happy, and you should be allowed to have what you want.

You wanted him.

“You’re late,” You whispered as you shut your eyes, enjoying the warmth that radiated from him.

“Yeah,” He murmured. “But I’m here.” Finally, he cupped your face with two hands.

your.username

🎵 Tate McRae • 2 Hands

liked by lando and others

your.username Respectfully I have something crazy to say

tagged lando

—

username14 - Oh she knew what she was doing

username15 - New LandHand pics unlocked

username16 - Speak your truth Y/N

♥︎ by author

mclaren - let’s not

♥︎ by author

> your.username - What happened to Free Speech

username17 - WOAHHH THE DADDY BRACELET?

username18 - Mmmmmm 🤤

The soft pitter patter of rain against your apartment roof began around halfway through the movie. Lando had insisted the two of you watch it, but you couldn’t tell what was going on. If someone asked you any questions about the plot, you’d have no clue how to respond.

Your head was resting on Lando’s lap, his shorts riding up just slightly to let you press your cheek against his thigh, the skin warm. His fingers were tangled in your hair, gently brushing through the strands in a way that nearly lulled you to sleep.

You rolled onto your back, looking up at him, only to find your boyfriend staring down at you already. That would explain why your skin felt so tingly— Someone had been peeping at you. With a teasing smile, you mused, “You’re not even watching.”

“Neither are you,” He pointed out.

“I’m not the one who was begging to watch this movie.” You closed your eyes, enjoying his fingers massaging your scalp. “Besides, I was trying to watch, but it’s hard with someone playing with my hair. You tryna hypnotize me or something?”

“Maybe I am,” He grinned. “Is it working?”

You opened your eyes, playfully rolling them before giving him a stern look. “Depends. What are you trying to make me do?”

“Stay right where you are,” He murmured, eyes looking down at you as if you hung the stars and the moon. You felt your heart flutter as he leaned down to gently kiss your jawline, leaving a trail of kisses there.

“Hmm,” You hummed, reaching up to cup his cheek with one hand, your thumb brushing over his jawline. “You’re getting better at this.”

He nosed at her hand, nudging her palm with a soft kiss that left her giggling. “I’ve had the best teacher,” He grabbed her palm gently, turning it over to kiss along her knuckles. “Could use some work with not snogging her students, though.”

You scoffed, “You’re lucky you’re cute, Norris.”

He feigned faux offense, pulling back to give you an awed expression. “Cute? Too bad. I was looking for devastatingly handsome. Or devilishly sexy.”

You pulled yourself up, situated in a spot on his lap with your thighs straddling his. It wasn’t inherently sexual, and neither of you made it out to be. “You are handsome, but when you look at me like that…” You brushed a curl away from his face, and his gaze softened so sweetly. “It’s cute.”

He leaned in, eyes slowly drifting shut as your lips met for a kiss. Slow, teasing, and yet so beautiful. You smirked against his lips, sinking against him while his hands found your thighs, his grip digging into you.

“You’re getting good at this,” You murmured between soft kisses. When you pulled away, he chased you for another before his eyes opened, staring at you in a way nobody ever had before.

He suddenly grinned. “I’ve had practice in my own imagination.”

You lightly smacked his chest. “Idiot.”