#WHICH STINKS but whatever.

[mugentakeda]

Do you have any fic recs similar to your take on iroh? Treating him as an actual character with some fucked up issues is SO much more fun!! I love him and I am chewing on your art

YES!!!!!!!! everytime i post about shithead iroh moments i get nervous someones gonna think i dont like him or im anti iroh or whatever but i genuinely honest to god think his less than savory past and personality traits ON TOP of the things about him that make him so beloved by the fandom makes him better. like yeah i love all parent characters that are just big softies but big softie parents that also are kinda (very much ) fucked up are even better. to ME. and i dont usually judge how good characters are on the basis of how good of a parent they are which is oddly something that a Lot of people do but. U wont find any of that on this blog which is also why i loveeeee ursa.

BUT I DIGRESS! here is my absolute favorite. its unfinished but what is there is still very loaded. digs in deep to iroh. gets pretty nitty gritty with it too. it changed how i see iroh and specifically season 1 iroh. it balances his b1 behavior with his later revealed status as a grand lotus MASTERFULLY, and puts his manipulative and cunning side on full display. might even make you mad at him a little bit

this one is less of a take on iroh as like. a general and a grand lotus and the war side of him and more of him as a father. its short and sad and i adore all of this authors fics involving iroh. it still shines a good light on the consequences of irohs own actions though because lu ten dying was literally his fault. the selfishness and the manic desperation that bleeds through this monologue is kind of scary but also is tragically beautiful.

ALSO these specific parts near the end of salvage were REALLY good. i feel like iroh is definitely the kind of guy that does a whole lot of backhanded comments as a way of patronizing without probably even realizing he does it?? i think a lot of people forget that what makes iroh being “changed” different from zuko is that zuko is still a child, and iroh is like. in his fifties or something. a whole LIFETIME of probably doing everything zuko did pre-redemption but far worse, and plenty times over. take how young azula is when ozai let her loose into the world into account. take the fact that iroh was already a general by the time he was sieging bss into account. im not gonna compare and contrast crimes here but i am trying to put weight onto how long iroh has been in the game. nasty shit like this is bound to still creep in the shadows of irohs mind and will definitely slip out sometimes.

and i know i keep bringing up that one unfinished super gnarly au fic that features azulon putting zuko into irohs care following irohs return to ba sing se (after ozai disgraced himself in requesting azulon give ozai the throne since iroh lost his only heir). hopefully one day ill find it because i hate to think the author deleted it or whatever . but out of all the fics that dig into irohs crimes id say this one does it the deepest while also SOMEHOW managing to make iroh sympathetic just by how sheerly pathetic and miserable he is the whole time. ONE DAY THOUGH. i pray that i will find it. because i have like over 200 pages of history on ao3 and i cant remember when exactly i read the fic so . searching for it has been kind of difficult but if i find it trust i will post it lol

#i know this isnt much but for some reason depicting iroh like this is kinda. Uncommon. #WHICH STINKS but whatever. #asks

[asheanon]

Trying so hard to work on things and not think about how one of our other kitties (not the tiny void) is now not feeling well. Ha. 🥲

#Tiny void got a clean bill of health from the vet #(aside from worms) #(which have been resolved) #whatever it is likely isn't related to him #it's Bob who isn't feeling well now too #he's such a sweet little guy #it stinks to see him not feel well and not know why yet... #🫠 #need some good vibes... #🙏✨🌠 #(I always need some good vibes anymore though haha) #🫠🫠🫠

[irregularbillcipher]

was going through old files and found the start of a resident evil village fic... idk if i'll ever finish it, so here's the start for posterity. maybe i'll finish it someday if there's any interest warnings for descriptions of animal harm, gore and surgery, along with some emotional abuse also also, if anyone here speaks french and would be willing to tell me if the tiny bit of french in here sounds correct, i'd appreciate it! i went through a few channels that were more advanced than google translate, but i don't speak the language myself and didn't really have any way to verify

Salvatore Moreau was a very good doctor. At the very least, his mother had always said so.

                To be fair, she wasn’t the only one who said so, but she was always the one who was the most adamant about it, even before he could speak.

                Stories fed to him when he could barely hold his head up of his grandfather, his namesake, who had left Italy for France to study under the Louis Pasteur— or at his university, at least— and Salvatore had learned by age two and a half that he should always pretend that he understood why that was a big deal.

                By age four, he really did understand why that was such a big deal, and by age five, after lengthy stories from his mother of his grandfather’s most gruesome surgical endeavors and hints that his namesake had been prepping since he was half Salvatore’s age, he had started performing medical experiments of his own, shaking, pudgy hands rifling through his father’s tackle box, taking out the worms and insects, using a hook to open them up and see how they ticked.

                His father never liked it, seeing the boy tear his bait apart on the docks of the reservoir, but his mother was thrilled, and tutted away his father’s concerns.

                “It’s a surgeons instinct,” she would coo, pressing a kiss against the boy’s cheek and placing a needle and thread in tiny hands, so he could stitch everything back together. “I just want him to have a head start. He’ll need hands-on experience before he goes to Paris!”

                “Of course,” his father would say, never one for arguments, “but couldn’t we stick to creatures that are already dead?”

                “He’ll have plenty of time to work on cadavers in school,” she would retort, and sometimes the discussion would become a bit more tense, a back and forth babble of French and Italian that Salvatore could make out if he focused, but rarely bothered to focus on. The Italian always won, anyway.

                “Just…” he would finally hear in tired French, “nothing that feels. Nothing more than bait… Nothing with fur, or a real brain…”

                And Salvatore was happy to agree with that— bigger things would squirm or scream, and he didn’t like to feel like he was hurting anything. He was practicing being a doctor, he wasn’t trying to cause harm.

                But by age seven, his mother started handing her little surgeon field mice and toads from the lake, speaking breathlessly about how his grandfather had once amputated a leg in five minutes flat, and he knew she wanted him to try to do it in four.

                A mouse’s leg was so much thinner, after all.

                She was ecstatic when one of his tiny patients finally survived the night, and had gleefully told him that his father wouldn’t have to know they were expanding their medical practice.

                “He’s a sweet man, your father, a good man,” she would say, with genuine fondness, patting her son’s cheek, “just…not ambitious. We both want you to be the best you can be, tesoro, we just don’t agree on how to get you there…”

                And Salvatore wasn’t sure how he felt about her dismissing his father— he seemed happy with his life, after all— but it was hard to act as if he was living up to his potential.

                He was sure, after all, that when his father had told his mother he had a Lordship waiting for him if his family ever returned to Romania, she was not expecting the man to remain a fisherman after he had accepted it. A Lord usually made more of himself.  

                When he asked his father though, on one of the quiet, early morning boat trips he took his boy on so often, the man had simply laughed quietly.

                “A Lordship is just a title, Salvatore,” he’d said, wrapping another blanket around the boy’s shoulders— Salvatore always forgot how chilly the morning mist on the boat was, and his father always kept spare wool blankets by the tacklebox, so the boy wouldn’t have to remember. “I’m sure some old Moreau was great some hundred-odd years ago, or at least found a way to make some money somehow, but it doesn’t mean much nowadays. A bit of land, a crest…”

                “A boat,” the boy had giggled, kicking the bottom of the old thing, and his father had laughed.    

“No, no, the boat I built.”

                Salvatore had squirmed a little, confused, hands gripping his fishing rod. “We… we owned a reservoir, but not a boat?”

                And the man had chuckled again. “Your brains come from your mother’s side of the family, mon chou. Not the Moreau side, even if someone long ago managed to be great on a reservoir without a boat.”

                “Well. You were smart enough to build a boat.”

                The man had hummed softly and nodded in humble agreement, standing up to cast his line out again.

                “… So if we’re Lords here,” the boy continued, gnawing on dirty fingernails, “why did you ever live in France?”

                “Well, we have family there, of course,” his father had said, chewing on his cigarette, eyes glued to the lake, “but it was mostly the weather.”

                “… Your family gave up being Lords because of the weather?”

                “We’re cold-blooded creatures, us Moreaus,” his father had whispered conspiratorially, piling another blanket on the shivering boy and sticking out his tongue when he snorted. “We do better where it’s temperate.”

                “But it’s still cold here. It’d be nicer in France. Or Italy.”

                “Hm, it is, but your mother’s enough of a firecracker to keep anyone warm,” the man had said, half exhausted and half lovestruck, and Salvatore really couldn’t argue with that. “And besides. She liked the idea of being a Lady… found it romantic, you know.”

                The boy had nodded again, kicking his legs and reeling in experimentally, just to see if he could catch any fish’s attention. It didn’t work.

                “But there’s no expectation for you,” his father had said, tugging on his own line. “There’s no, ah… role you have to play, because of my family.”

                “Mama says being a doctor would be be-befitting of a Lord.”

                “And it would be if that’s what you’d like,” he’d said, patting his son’s shoulder. His jaw had set, just a little, and Salvatore regretting bringing it up. “We both want you to be happy, Salvatore, we just—”

                “Don’t agree on how to get me there,” he’d finished quietly.

                “No, we don’t,” the man was reeling his line in now, having felt a tug. “But nobody does, really, for anybody. Ready with the net now.”

                The boy had nearly dropped his own pole in the water in the rush to get the net for what ended up being a much smaller than average fish, but his father never chided him for that sort of thing.

                Despite his mother’s aspirations, stories of how his parents met never included the Lordship.

                “We met at the market,” his mother would say dreamily, whenever her son asked. “He tried to sell me a tiny trout for three francs…”

                “And?” Salvatore would always prompt giddily, despite knowing how the story went.

                “And I told him that for that price, I’d better get it fully cooked with wine and dessert… and he was happy to do it.”

                “The dinner,” his father would always add from his armchair, “was more than three francs—”

                “And the trout was very good,” she would concede, kissing him on the cheek and patting his arm as he blushed furiously.

                “Was it worth it?” Salvatore would ask his father, as if he didn’t already know the answer, as if he weren’t essentially reciting a script, and he was never surprised when mother would reply instead.

                “Was a wife worth three francs?”

                “I think I could have spent less on the dinner if I’d thought it through more,” his father would always say, smiling the whole time.  “But the date was well worth the seven francs I spent.”

                There were many stories like that, back and forth skits of things his mother had already told him— everything from his grandfather’s most harrowing surgical endeavors to the hectic day that he was born— but the day his parents met was always his favorite. It was the one they seemed the happiest to tell, the one they always remembered new details of.

                His mother would always tell him later, while tucking him in, that she would have insisted on dinner with his father even if he’d charged a single centime for the trout, because her demand for dinner and wine hadn’t really had anything to do with the trout itself, and his father would always tell him the next morning on the boat that he’d deliberately overcharged for the trout just to have an excuse to haggle with a pretty girl, which had worked out far better than he ever could have imagined.

                “So, it was love at first sight?” he would ask them both, without fail.

                “Of course it was, tesoro,” his mother would sigh, brushing his hair out of his eyes and taking off his glasses, setting them on his bedside table. “Why else would I have made him take me to dinner?”

                His father would always be asked the next morning, back on the boat, and he would breathe air out of his nose and smile softly, shaking his head.

                “I wouldn’t call it that, Salvatore… love takes time, work, you know? It’s a… process,” he would say, baiting his hook. “But I knew I wanted to know her better.”

                Salvatore decided from an early age that he liked his mother’s answer best, but he never said so, at least not to his father on those frigid, foggy mornings.

                “He changes the story, doesn’t he?” his mother would ask, needle and thread and a rabbit bundled into her arms, and he would relay the conversations on the lake, to drown out the rabbit’s screams. To stop his hands from shaking.

“No,” he would say, hoping to avoid the inevitable. This was another script, but one he liked much less, and it was hard to recite his lines when his hands were slick with viscera.

 “He doesn’t say it was love at first sight,” she would sigh, looking intently at her son’s handiwork.

                “He says love takes time,” he would say, wrist deep in gore, “and work.”

                “So it takes work to love me, does it?” and the teasing note in her voice would never be enough to stop his queasiness from building.

                “No,” he’d say over the rabbit’s screeches, or mouse’s, or the toad’s, “of course not.” And his voice would quaver even though he’d mean it.

                She never noticed the hesitancy, and he was glad, because the minute his patient was stitched up, that nervous note in his voice would wash over him in a wave of shame. He’d shake and snivel after every procedure, and he was convinced it had to be because of that hesitancy over the woman convincing him to tear apart the local fauna, and not the act of tearing them apart. He refused to entertain the idea it could be a little of both.

                Her son’s trembling was something she could not ignore, and she’d take his hands, still dripping from surgery, still pudgy with baby fat, and smile softly. “A surgeon’s hands,” she’d sigh, squeezing. “You’ve done such a good job, Salvatore, you have a surgeon’s hands.”

                It was almost enough to make him feel better.

                “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before your father sees.”

                That was what really made him feel better, at the end of the day, wiping off the gore. He tried not to think about it too much. There wasn’t much use for a squeamish surgeon.

                Even as he got older, as his hands started to shake less, as he learned how to quiet the animals’ screams and as he developed an appreciation—or at least a fascination—with the work his mother was pushing him towards, he was still relieved every time he got to clean his hands and be done with it.

                He was ten when his father found him, halfway between the makeshift surgical center and the lake, rushing to dip sopping red hands in murky water. His father had looked at him, hunched over and bloody and crying, and his face had gone gray, and he’d docked the boat and headed up to their house without a word.

                The din in the house started almost immediately and for once, the French overpowered the Italian.

                He tried not to listen, as he scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and tried to drown out the noise, washing until his hands were sore to try to feel clean, to avoid going into the house.

                The yelling carried, though, no matter how loudly he splashed, no matter how much he muttered to himself. The only sound he could hear was his father, angry like he’d never heard before, so angry Salvatore was sure he was sobbing, refusing to back down for once.

                Vous pensez que c’est ce qui est le mieux pour lui? Vous pensez que c’est ce qui le rendra heureux? Il est trempé de sang, il tremble! Mon Dieu, il n'a que dix ans!

                Dear God, he’s only ten!

                When he pulled his hands from the lake, they were still bloody, and it took a good few seconds to realize that this time, it was his own blood. From the state of his hands, raw and cracked and trembling—God, he wished he could stop the trembling-- scrubbing any more would only make things worse, so he just sat on the dock miserably, holding his fingers above the water and waiting for them to dry.

#this fic is just the emotional equivalent of kicking salvatore moreau in the stomach repeatedly #it was going to be about this theory i have that sal was the village doctor when the spanish flu hit so miranda like. #blames him for eva's death. which is why he's treated so badly even compared to his already mistreated siblings #while also being sort of a study about his relationship with his biological family and how an unhealthy dynamic there #sort of led him into the unhealthy relationship he has with miranda and the lords #but i never quite got the motivation to finish it #idk if anyone here even likes resident evil but this has been sitting in my files for so long #and i want it out in the world in some way i suppose #there are a few other scattered scenes i've written but. whatever #anyway sal is the most potentially interesting lord imo it's a shame his siblings took all the fandom's attention #not that i don't LIKE his siblings. i do!!! #i just think it stinks that moreau is so overlooked

[mechanicalriddle]

my latest project... i have been hiding it from my socials mostly because doing so motivates me to actually work on it so i can share it. I have a fair bit of it written! and a little edited even! i anticipate it will make impact with the ‘net either early next year or late this one. it’s a novel, its partially illustrated, and published web 1.0 style (at some point i had to make peace with the fact that a full graphic novel style webcomic will not presently be possible to achieve. but a web serial? now we’re talkin)

what is it about? (in vague terms. if you want to know what its about in not-vague terms you will have to read it!)

Disability, chiefly

its also about when all ur life plans fall thru and suddenly you need all the people you used as a stepping stone and the relationships you tossed aside to get where you were and so you find yourself having to pick up the phone and face your greatest fears. and you do it anyway and its so so easy in ways you could hardly imagine and really fucking hard in other ways you also couldnt imagine

there are psychic cosmic horror aliens. yes they are technically key to the plot but also kind of incidental

#it definitely exists on the science fiction side of the grey zone between science fiction and fantasy #which i guess is categorically 'soft scifi' but whatever #you can probably pick up the star trek watch-er stink on it #but its also kind of like pacrim (but also really not) #i simply am a sucker for an interpersonal drama

[running-in-the-dark]

I got a lot of new ink recently (20 samples and 4 bottles), so here's all of them because I think they're pretty 😌

#tulip and bloody absinth didn't dry #I made these yesterday and those two still smudged #that sucks because I looove the way bloody absinth looks #and bloody brexit is basically my ideal ink - dark blue with red sheen - but I already have like.. 5 that look basically the same #so I don't know if I'll get a bottle of it #I realised I've never tried any de atramentis ink so when I found out they're actually from Germany (and made by one guy) I figured I #should get some of those #they're really really pretty but they kinda stink #also got almost all the rohrer & klingner sketchinks which are waterproof #anyway no one cares about this but whatever 😅 #this is my fountain pen tag now #personal

[wintersoldeer]

i hope everyone who watches videos in public without headphones drops their phone into a puddle and when they go to pick it up they accidentally step too far into said puddle so their shoes and socks get all wet and when theyre worrying about that they drop their phone again and this time the screen cracks 

#seems like e v e r y t i m e nowadays there someone in the train too near me watching tiktok or whatever and i dont fucking want to hear it #also i think i lost my own headphones or maybe left them at work #they were my backup headphones that i bought bc i lost my headphones or maybe left them at my parents’ #also my hands still smell like salmon despite washing them like three or five times i cant wait to take an actual shower #small annoyances that ill probably forget the minute i step out of this train but until then fuck everyone who watches videos in public #without headphones and double fuck everyone who watches videos in public without headphones and feeds their dog salmon treats #also fuck me for being so... like this. with headphones and keeping them not lost do ireally need to go buy new ones a g a i n #i say #ok instead of posting i just saved this as draft bc habit so in that time ive gotten off the train and bought some shitty cheapo headphones #from tiger (which i know are shitty bc i went through like three of them in like a week some years ago and if they were shit then theyre #probably worse now. they dont even have any fun colours anymore...) and i instantly feel better #gonna go take that shower now and hopefully finally wash away any lingering dog food stink thank god its friday etc etc etc #//edit 2days later ha found my headphones!! (not the fun pink ones that i still hipe are somewhere back home but the boring gray backup ones #that i was afraid i left in the pocket of my work pants that i threw in the laundry box. i didnt! theyre safe!!)

[the-chickenshit-oddity]

d'ya ever spend a good ten minutes asking yourself why vampires don't stink? because they're dead, right? and their hearts don't beat anymore but tissues are kept alive by oxygen which is in the blood which is sent around the body by the beating of the heart, so no beating heart means no oxygen, means dead tissues and decomposition, means stink. so...how come vampires don't stink.

#stupid #so then i think #okay but they drink the blood which is fresh and probably has oxygen in it #so the stomach would take over the hearts 'keeping the tissues alive' duties right #but how would the stomach spread the blood around #like the heart is connected to the arteries and veins and blood vessels or whatever #the stomach is only connected to the bowels i think #did i mention i failed science at school #anyway #and the digestive track only takes nutrients from the stuff we eat right? #so technically the oxygen isnt a nutrient and isnt absorbed by whatever so thats not how it works either #so the only solution i can come up with is during the vampire transformation theres some new link thats built #between the stomach and the blood highways and stuff #and thats my theory of how vampires dont stink #next week's class will be about how werewol-

[thebookworm0001]

my brain came up with a scenario where Ellana and Sols run into a dalish clan who, after their whole ‘holy shit it’s the inquisitor and fen’harel’ shock, immediately clock how stupidly in love they are and quickly throw together a bonding ceremony for them because they also clocked that neither of these dumbasses is ever going to properly propose so somebody’s gotta help them out

idk if it’ll end up being a canon thing but it is very cute

#decided that - in this clan at least - one of the things that happen is the other clan members help bathe and dress the couple #so Ellana and Solas get separated and dragged into rivers/lakes/whatever #and they kinda just think this clan is politely telling them they stink #which isn’t false it’s just not the main purpose #and the whole time the clan members are asking questions about them both #getting to the heart of their relationship and whether they’re actually a good fit #then they get new clothes - just simple white shifts really #again a thing easily mistaken for ‘they’re being nice about how gross we are from traveling’ #except Ellana gets her hair done with a bunch of flowers woven into small decorative braids #and hey why is the whole clan here and why is the Harhen dressed up and /oh/ #at this point they would have already exchanged bonding gifts ‘cause that’s a whole plot thing I have planned #and I don’t really have the dalish do rings #maybe this clan does a hand fasting #regardless it’s cute and they get bonded and they’re a bit ridiculous for the rest of the night #and once you’ve seen the dreadwolf giddily in love you can’t really be scared of him #which means he’s got kids hanging onto him until they leave the clan #then she put pen to paper

[quicksilversquared]

Roomies have decided to a) shut the porch windows, because heaven forbid the smokers feel the slightest hint of discomfort while stinking up the area, but b) leave the bathroom window wide open for who-knows-how-long, possibly since morning, because setting a timer to remember to shut the stupid thing again is too difficult, apparently.

Make it make sense.

#downstairs stinks like garbage dump thanks to cigarette smoke getting in #downstairs people have yet to turn the downstairs thermostat back on yet #which means that upstairs is going to shoot up overnight #ngl I'm pretty sure their attitude is 'do whatever someone will fix it for me' #which is why they do dumbass shit all the time #seriously I thought the downstairs person was moving out can they get tf out a little faster #and get someone with a bit more common sense

[vote2]

I dont get why coworkers complain abt it i loveee boiling out the fryer easiest job ever

#its just close early so oil cools. pump out oil by hand which is a bit of a workout but whatever. wheel it back pump it into dumpster. #repeat for other side. spray w water and empty. dump cleaner and spray more water til full. set to boil (it doesnt actuallt even simmer #just gets rly hot) empty and scrub. spray w water #so awesome job of ever. manager says the oil stink thats why she doestn like it but i genuinly cannot smell the oil ever it just smells #like average oil. not like putrid like ppl say 😭

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny used to be a vigilante, firmly on the side of good. Like, illegally, but morally good.

Danny’s 100% sure that whatever he is now, it’s not good.

Is Gotham’s influence just Like That?

He was homeless when he got to this thrice damned city (literally, because Lady Gotham was so cursed) and now he’s… here? In a mid-level penthouse with a rotation of homeless kids going in and out of his kitchen and eating out his pantry??

Danny adjusted the cuffs of his dress shirt, making the conscious decision to ditch the tie. He’s a tall 6ft 4 now, taking after his Dad. His head smarted all of the time, hitting doorframes when he was being a bit clumsier than the normal ghost-like grace he had learned to channel as The Phantom.

The Phantom instead of just Phantom. Why? Because Phantom was the name of a teenage vigilante in another dimension. The Phantom, on the other hand, is an intimidatingly tall, deceptively kind, extremely dangerous kingpin.

Honestly? Danny didn’t even want this life. Like, he had no idea it would snowball like this??

He supposed that it all started when the Penguin was trying to snatch kids off of his block on Crime Alley. Not officially his block, of course, because Danny didn’t actually enter this city to be a crime-shadow thing. But he hadn’t lost enough of Phantom the Vigilante to ignore kids getting hurt. He still hasn’t, if he’s being honest. He flew into a frantic search, tracking down the missing kids to Penguin’s bar. The Iceberg Lounge. Apparently, he wanted the kids to do some menial tasks and what not. Danny, rage flickering through his core, intangibly went in and robbed Penguin of every coin and secret the man kept.

Then? Danny blackmailed the Penguin to guarantee his kids a measure of safety from the Rogue. That began the slippery slope into whatever it is he does now. Penguin was being kept in line by Danny’s threats, the grip he had on the Rogue’s weak points, and a wonderful bit of intimidation.

——

“What, you stinking phantom? I’m stickin’ to yer rules!” Penguin snarled, forced to his knees by invisible blob ghosts.

Danny, salty and pissy from the lack of sleep he’d experienced trying to keep Penguin’s men in line as a result of Penguin trying to test where Danny’s lines were, dropped the temperature to the point where Penguin started shivering. Considering the place was already cold- the Iceberg lounge lived up to its name- it meant that Danny was standing nonchalantly in a room that was negative twenty five degree Celsius in a sweatshirt, Danny was already making good on his natural intimidation factor.

“It’s The Phantom to you, Oswald.” Danny said, in the tone of someone saying “it’s the shit, to you.”

Danny narrowed his blue eyes, letting a tiny tint of ectoplasm make his eyes glow a bit in the suddenly icing over room.

“Your people have been getting on my nerves, Oswald. Roughing up kids is so… uncultured. Are you sure you’re a Cobblepot?”

Penguin snarled, the effect of which was rendered ineffective due to his increasingly violent shivers. Plus, Danny loomed over him without even trying.

Danny, annoyed and asking himself “What Would Dan Do To Intimidate This Guy?”, gripped Penguin’s shoulder and hauled him up one handed. He dragged the mob boss over to one of the booths, avoiding the bodies he’d dropped (non-lethally) when Danny first walked in to ruin Penguin’s night. He shoved Penguin in chair he iced over, because Danny’s petty and if he saw one more bruise on his kids at Penguin’s hands, Danny was gonna go full Dan the Murderer.

He at least allowed to room to warm up before laying into Penguin, though. He stayed standing. Hey, he had the height advantage to use. He could have kept Penguin kneeling, but it was probably god the best that the mob boss got some sense of pride back.

(Danny had no idea that sitting as someone loomed over you to lecture and threaten you was even worse than kneeling. At least with kneeling, you knew where you stood. But sitting? It leaves you horribly off kilter.)

“I told you to keep your people in line. Kids are off limits, Oswald.”

“I kept them in line!”

Never let it be said that Oswald Cobblepot had a normal functioning sense of self preservation.

“Really?” Danny jabbed his pointer finger lightly on top of Penguin’s trachea and allowed his fingernails to sharpen into Phantom’s sharper digits. Penguin tried to lean away. “Then why did they start a gun fight when there were kids visible on the street? Why did I see one of my kids get hit by one of your poor excuses of a bouncer?”

“I-”

“Don’t care much for your excuses, if I’m being honest. I let you mess around with the little projects you have, without even breathing a whisper of your secrets. Sionis would love to know how you double crossed him the last deal, yeah?”

“I- I’ll keep them in line!” Penguin stuttered.

“Well, I believe in second chances,” Danny bullshitted. Ancients, how was this even working? “So I suggest you make an example of the guy that smacked Hailey around before I make an example out of you, Oswald.”

“Fine! Fine!”

——

And with that, he got access to Penguin’s resources and men and more importantly, the corrupt police officers. He made Penguin “boot out” the pedophilic ones (in a very violent way) and kept the rest.

Then? Mr. Freeze froze over the god damn pipes and Danny had to intimidate and make a deal with the Rogue so he and his increasing roster of orphans had access to warm water.

In exchange for Danny’s restorative and, more importantly, unmelting ice, Mr. Freeze was now Danny’s… on-call enforcer?? When he’s not researching cures for his frozen in a pod wife, that is.

Danny was satisfied with that. He was! But then Black Mask happened, with the man trying to engage in a battle of wits with Danny over the control of Crime Alley which, at that point, was firmly Danny’s territory.

The thing is, Danny doesn’t play nice anymore. Why bother with pointless mind games when he could just…

——

“So, you’re The Phantom.”

“And you’re Sionis.”

Black Mask twitched at the name, gloved hands pulling out his guns. Danny sat on the counter, head touching mid cabinet, and sipped out of Sionis’ favorite mug.

Because Danny broke into Black Mask’s safe house and stole his quality coffee. The man’s eyes were wary.

“How did you get in here?”

Danny shrugged. “Walked.”

Danny held the coffee out of the way as Sionis unloaded a clip into his chest and lunged forward to slap a mask onto Danny’s face. After waiting a bit, as Black Mask’s smug triumph bled into shock, Danny laughed and, using a bit of his natural strength, tossed the guy off of him. He casually took the mask off of his face.

“Jeez, I’m trying to be nice, here.”

“So, you’re a Meta.”

Danny grinned. “Eh. And you’re a cult leader with a mask fetish.”

Danny tuned out the rant about the “true face of Gotham” or whatever, already bored, and sipped at Sionis’ coffee. The ass might be a psycho, but his coffee tastes were wonderful. Danny stood up, rinsed his mug, and turned back to Black Mask.

“You’re trafficking people. Kids.” He said, cutting through Sionis’ chatter. He was sly about it too, committing violence and torture in a way that would ensure obedience and fear. Danny probably would have never caught on, Black Mask’s schemes being so ingeniously created and executed, had he not kept a hawk’s eyes on the more vulnerable members of Crime Alley’s community. And the rest of Gotham’s vulnerable communities, of course.

“My, a wonderfully obvious conclusion. Now, Phantom, I have a proposition for you.”

Sionis seemed to have gotten his bearings back. Danny tilted his head at him, looking down.

“You can work for me,” Sionis said, before opening a laptop with video feed to one of his masked men or whatever holding a knife to one of Danny’s more fearless kids. Danny snarled.

“Or, refuse, and your kid will lose a finger for every instance of your defiance.”

“I told you not to touch the kids, Sionis. I don’t allow trafficking either.”

Black Mask chuckled. “Cut off a finger, Sadness.”

“Yes, bos- ARGHHHH!”

Danny watched as Mr. Freeze froze the goon’s arms before breaking them.

“I’ve got her, Phantom.”

Danny nodded at Freeze, keeping an eye on Sionis in case the fool bolts.

“So, what are your cards now, Sionis? You’ve sure pissed me off with nothing to show for it.”

And that was the last night anyone heard from the one that was supposed to be the King of Crime.

But Gotham knew the head mounted on a pike at one of Black Mask’s hastily abandoned bases was a warning, that The Phantom was watching.

——

Then he somehow got a gaggle of more orphans that were undead zombie “Talons?”

From there, he just obtained influence over the crime bosses of Gotham. Because his Talons kept bringing him heads and blackmail and his crime alley kids and Gotham orphans kept bringing him information for food and safety?

But like, Danny never wanted anything in exchange for the safety he provided. His core could give less of a shit whether he got anything in return. But he couldn’t convince his kids of that! They’re putting themselves in danger and ugh-!

Danny checked himself once more in the mirror. Ready, he stepped out into the night to wait for the Bats at his new favorite VIP spots.

On the way, he passed Ivy and Harley, who he waved to. Pamela worked under him because he controlled Gotham’s criminal underground (which also mean the official parts of the city considering the sheer amount of corruption) and influenced them into more plant friendly methods. His dominion over Undergrowth also helped immensely.

Harley? They’re friends. He beat up and crippled her abusive ex. She gave him therapy and stopped torturing people for fun.

Danny stepped into the back door of the Iceberg Lounge. No one stopped him. No one dared to.

He settled onto a velvet couch, nodding respectfully at the server that had immediately and nervously set down his mai tai. He glanced around for cameras and wire taps, before giving up and upping his ectoplasmic output to short any recording devices out.

He sipped his drink as he waited.

“Batman.”

“Phantom.”

“Oh, good. You didn’t bring Robin,” Danny said, watching Batman tense. “Kids shouldn’t be in places like these.”

Batman stayed silent.

“Come on, sit.” Danny gestured to the couch across from him.

“This isn’t a social call. I’ll stop whatever you’re scheming-” Batman growled.

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Is this where Nightwing gets it from?”

Batman snarled.

“Sit, sit.” Danny rolled his eyes.

Batman stayed stubbornly looming. Danny sighed, allowing his voice to slip into velvet danger.

“I told you to sit, Bruce Wayne.”

“You-”

“I won’t repeat myself again, Bruce. You’re testing my patience.”

Bruce sat, wary and hyper vigilant. Danny sighed, settling back in his chair.

“You’ve heard of Red Hood, yes? Don’t answer that, it was hypothetical. I know you’ve heard of him.” Danny waved a hand impatiently. “I don’t really care why he’s setting up shop in my Alley, but he’s upsetting the other crime lords. They’re asking me to interfere.”

“I don’t work for you.”

“No,” Danny acknowledged with a nod. “But I could make you, if you push it. Politeness would serve you much better right now, Bruce, seeing as I am doing you a… favor. And since I’m not shouting to the world who you are under the cowl.”

Danny gave Batman a pointed, patented, mom glare.

“… Apologies.”

“Now, you might be wondering what that favor is.” Danny watched Batman’s cowled face carefully. “I thought you should know that the Red Hood is your “Jason Todd.’”

Batman was still. And then Batman leapt at him, snarling, “How dare you-!”

Danny caught the vigilante by the throat and squeezed.

Batman’s flurry of punches- which, mildly ow, those gauntlets kind of hurt- quickly changed to clawing and maneuvers to get out of the choke hold. Danny held steady, cutting off the vigilante’s air supply until he began to go limp. He’s not Superman. Danny will bruise and kill, if he had to.

“Are you going to listen to me now?” Danny asked mildly, emulating both Black Mask’s drawl and Dan’s effortless psychosis.

Batman gave a weak nod. Danny plopped him unceremoniously back onto his couch. He sipped on his drink once more as he waited for Batman to cough some sweet air back into his lungs.

“I’m telling you to get your little birds in line before I have to go hunting, yeah? Keep your kids out of danger, Bruce, and I won’t have to step in.”

“He- how do you know..?” The growl isn’t there anymore, and Danny felt a smug sense of vindication of having smothered it out of the guy. Woah, no, that thought was too Dan and too little Danny. Danny handed him a cup of water, which Batman didn’t drink.

Danny rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Drink. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now. And as for how I know…”

Danny held up a beat up copy of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility, filled with Jason’s writing. He tossed it to Batman, who caught it with blank eyes.

“Water,” Danny reminded him firmly, feeling like a mother hen. Batman gulped down his water, eyes flicking between the pages of Jason’s annotated book. Ancients, Danny couldn’t believe he annotated his book. A crime lord, like that? Well, it’s not like Danny could say anything.

Batman looked up at him, a silent demand- no, plea, because he’s not in a position to make demands- for an answer.

“Broke into his safe house. You should contact your fling, Talia. Seems like she dunked him into these “Lazarus pits” and told him you replaced him with the current Robin.”

Danny could see Batman’s emotional gears hard at work and honestly, he doesn’t have time for that.

“Now, we’re done here. You owe me one for the information. I’ll collect later.” Danny grabbed the Dark Knight, who stayed oddly unresisting (shock, maybe?) , and hauled him up.

“Tell Tim Drake to eat more. He looks too skinny.” With that, Danny dragged the Dark Knight to the window and punted him out. His kids were waiting on hot chocolate night and Danny had to go shopping for quality ingredients.

——

“YOU COULDN’T HAVE TOLD ME THE BIGGEST CRIME LORD OF YOUR CITY WAS THE FUCKING HIGH KING OF THE INFINITE REALMS?!”

“Hn.”

“BLOODY HELL, DON’T YOU GRUNT AT ME, YOU BROODY BASTARD!”

Constantine let out a scream. Shite, the king who held his soul contract was a crime lord. Great.

——

The reason intelligence and convoluted schemes and genius doesn’t work against Danny is because he’s got weird standards of what he’ll tolerate and the fact is that his normal dumbassery and mother hen tendencies cancels out and coherent thoughts or plans he might have had.

#danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #bruce wayne #jason todd #red hood #bamf danny phantom #danny the accidental crime lord #danny took over Gotham by adoption and intimidation #morally grey danny phantom #Gotham #scary danny phantom #tw: choking #not in the nasty way #in the intimidation tactic way #danny is losing it #a bit #nightwing #tbh I just wanted to write dark! Danny lol #without the whole world ending mass murder

[fixomnia-scribble]

Scientists are very serious.

This is a post about science. And soup.

Dr. Elinne Becket, a microbiologist from Cal State University, is in the middle of one of those Fridge Experiments that happens to us all - except in this case, she is uniquely placed to unravel the science down to the microbial level.

While cleaning out her fridge, Dr. Becket found that a tub of family-recipe beef vegetable soup had turned bright blue. “Ok I'm outing myself here,” she tweeted, “but there was forgotten beef soup in our fridge we just cleaned it out and it was BLUE?!?!? Wtf contam would make it blue??? Like BRIGHT blue!!  Even w/ all my years in micro I'm not handling this well.“

Read on for a breathless and ongoing saga of Soup and Science, and the wonderful international community that is Academic Twitter.

Academic Twitter quickly reminded her of her Responsibilities to Scientific Inquiry. (Cue the chanting from around the world of “CLONE THE SOUP! CLONE THE SOUP!”)

“I can’t believe y’all talked me into going back into the trash.” she tweeted in response, over a photo of a puddle of beautiful Mediterranean-sea blue soup in the trash bin, with bits of veg and noodles arising from the depths.

Scientists being scientists, Dr. Becket agreed to take a sample and send it to colleagues for cloning and microbial analysis.This involved getting arms-deep into the trash bin of Old Soup. “I’m never forviging @ATinyGreenCell (genomic biologist Sebastian Cocioba) for this.” Dr. Becket tweeted, with a photo of a properly dipped and snipped and VERY blue q-tip in a small clear plastic tub.

Diving into decomposing soup was not the only hazard. She writes: “My mom (who made the soup for my birthday) came across this thread and now 1) I have to answer for letting her soup spoil and 2) she's worried @ATinyGreenCell will figure out her secret recipe.“

Dr. Becket and Sebastian were able to culture the Blue Goo!

Becket posted a photo of three petri plates of streaked beef bouillon agar at 72 hours incubation, at 37C, room temp and 4C. She writes: “Left the plates where they were for another 2 days, except the 37°C one was brought to RT, which then grew white stuff over the yellow stuff and stinks to high heaven. RT looked the same. 4°C had impressive growth. Restreaked them all onto TECH agar, awaiting results!”

Sebastian, from his lab, tweeted a photo of three more covered petri dishes, with early results: “Great progress on isolating the glowy microbe from our #BlueSoup! It's so fluorescent the streak is GREEN. Still needs another restreak as it seems there is a straggler but should clear up in the next plate. Exciting!”

Then yesterday, Sebastian tweeted out an updated photo of his plates under daylight and blacklight. “Whatever grew on the #BlueSoup colony plates overnight glows under UV, but only on King's Agar B! That particular media is used to tease out fluorescein expression in pseudomonads. What are the chances that the same cell line expresses fluorescent AND blue pigments?“

“Looking closer, there definitely is a handful of different microbes showing distinct phenotypes. Could be that the blue producer and the fluorescent microbes are totally different microbes!”

At which point, Professor Cynthia Whitchurch of Norwich, England, responded: “Consistent with P. fluorescens being at least part of the #BlueSoup community. The fluorescence is due to production of the siderophore pyoverdine which is up-regulated when iron availability is limited. P. aeruginosa produced this too but my guess is you have blue Pf.”

And Australian agricultural researcher @WAJWebster helpfully tweeted a petri dish of ALL KINDS of colourful bacterial colonies from white to yellow to orange to stark black, with a cheerful: “You need bact-o--colours? I got you, fam.”

The best part is that as of today, March 9, 2023, THE BLUE SOUP MYSTERY CONTINUES. WE ARE WATCHING SCIENCE HAPPENING!

A paper is being written. And Dr. Becket’s mum is getting an author credit as the proprietary owner of the #BlueSoup recipe.

Dr. Becket’s Twitter is here: https://twitter.com/bielleogy

Sebastian Cocioba’s Twitter is here: https://twitter.com/ATinyGreenCell

Fun IFLS story is here: https://www.iflscience.com/microbiologist-investigates-after-her-beef-soup-turned-blue-in-the-freezer-67894?fbclid=IwAR0H27KqVZhzzrosnjzzKkxuKASZ-0L0Lt6hGwCRDJK8xvFbbSlyS4JvwlM

#soup #science #science twitter #academic twitter #fridge experiments #bluesoup

[snekdood]

All ik is if i gotta be isolated and socially ostracized in spite of doing nothing wrong, then maybe we dont get to be so forgiving and understanding and Here For the person who put me in this situation. Kinda think they deserve the same shit too, i mean, if we're all being fucking genuine right? Or did they convince you so well that theyre so uwu weak and innocent that even though theyre a rapist you still need to hold them with kiddie gloves?

#cops when it comes to be but have the Nuanced Leftist Understanding Of Retributirive Justice & Why Its Bad when it comes to them lmao #okay #so i gotta go through all this trauma but even if you find out what i say is true then they srill face no repercussions of any sort huh? #yeah yall dont care about me too lmao. yall dont care about victims. yall like making victims and finding targets. #yall LOVE trying to destroy peoples loves and will jump at any opportunity to do it but suddenly your fave blogger is outed as a creep and #lives* not loves #its all fine and you give 0 of that same energy back to them. iight. #like go fuck yourselves lmao. wipe yourself from the planet or at least from society if this is how you fuckin are #they could be outed as a serial rapist and yall would look at their fursona still and go 'awwww' like. why are you on this planet shisjsks #why cant you evenly distribute the energy of Hating Rapists when it comes to them huh? #some of yall are already in an abusive relationship with them and dont even realize. you dont even see how they have such a hold over you #that you react different than you did to me about finding out theyre a creep. #i went through all this trauma of isolation + no ones apologized yet + no ones even tried to help me or help repair the situation. #yall literally do not care about other humans. you care about drama and bloodsports. #yall dont understand HOW MUCH you've made me lose faith in humanity. like if yall thought i didnt care if humans died for whatever reason #before i probably believe that shit now BUT ITS FUCKING BECAUSE OF YOU PEOPLE. ITS FUCKING BECAUSE OF YOU #its tumblr users that are this dogmatic about their favorite creators which is why i say people on this site dont deserve shit #yall are just whiped fucking dogs. #did you get a treat for not putting up too much of a stink? for never comfronting them? for standing by? #kys

[toastsnaffler]

GRRRR going for the camera + radio achievements in portal and it hasnt registered one of the cameras i shot down so im gonna have to do another playthru to get it 😭

#I DONT KNOW WHICH ONE IT ISSSS ik its not my fault bc ive been keeping a tally after i shoot them + ive def shot 21 not 20 #oh well wotever i can still get the radio achievement on this playthru + long jump.. ill finish them tmr tho im too grumpy now #tried so hard to be in a good mood today bc its so nice outside but im very very tired + my ceilings started leaking again :-( #also one of my flatmates keeps stinking up the hall it was this waterproof solvent last night like cmon man #u should be using it outside + drying ur stuff outside!! it was rly sunny today it wouldve been fine. i dont wanna inhale solvent fumes. #and then today it was vinegar. we literally have cleaning products for everything theres disinfectant u dont need to wipe stuff w that. #im rly sensitive to smell like i can tolerate some shit but these were truly pungently terrible >:( oh well whatever i guess #better luck tomorrow i hope i get a good nights sleep at least #.diaries

[pierregazly]

let's show the world ꨄ carlos sainz smau

carlos sainz x wife!reader

warnings: hateful/mean comments, cyberbullying

in which carlos has to make it clear to the world how much his wife means to him, and how strangers on the internet know nothing about them or their relationship.

f1drivernews

liked by username, username, username, and 11,209 others

tagged carlossainz55 and yourusername

f1drivernews it appears ferrari driver carlossainz55 and wife yourusername spent the summer break in style, rumours have it that the resort they stayed in ibiza was almost €7500 per person a night. sainz and his wife have been notorious for staying in extravagant hotels and resorts during both summer and winter breaks. the lifestyles of the rich and famous continues!

view all 399 comments

username oh the things i would do to be a millionaire

username just be like yourusername and bag yourself a rich husband, constant flow of money lol

username that's a polite way of saying just be a gold-digger and you'll be set babes

username lol the fact b4 he met her carlos used to spend breaks with his fam and friends??? has no one told him how much of a red flag this is???

username girl since when is a driver spending their break with their WIFE a red flag???

username €7500 PER PERSON???? aint no way that was carlos' idea lol what a joke

username i'd be so embarrassed to be yourusername like what does girlypop even do??? other than mooch off her husband ofc

username she's actually very successful in her own line of work? not sure what you're alluding to but yeah

username she could be the top 10% of whatever she does and still not be as successful as carlos, hop off hunni

username guess f1drivernews was too nice to post the hideous closeups of yourusername... girly's not looking too great nowadays poor carlos

carlossainz55 has posted a story

liked by yourusername, landonorris, username, and others

replies

landonorris your mrs told me she got a hole in one, how's it feel to suck carlos

yourusername 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

username bet you paid out of your ass for her for this round of golf too smh

username embarrizzing sorrrrryyy carlos

yourusername has posted a story

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others

replies

carlossainz55 thank you for dinner amor, you spoil me as always

username girl delete this rn this is so embarrassing

username loool ur not fooling anyone sweetie

username red nails for a golddigger? typical babes

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, scuderiaferrari, and 2,343 others

tagged carlossainz55

yourusername i'm amazed by you every single day, even more when you come back to our room stinking of champagne 💗

view all 187 comments

landonorris no special post for me?? you told me i was ur son the other day and this is the treatment i get ? emancipation right now

landonorris before you say it, i know that's a big word for elmo. thanks.

alexandrasaintmleux im still obsessed with that jacket 🫶🏻

username you looked so pretty this weekend! carlos is so lucky

carlossainz55 always more special when we're both coming back smelling like champagne hermosa

username i think its like so childish u deleted 75% of ur followers like u wanna be in the public eye but dont want what comes with it??? weird but alright

username im so over you honestly carlos deserves better

username ur acc the worst wag like yikes

f1gossip

liked by username, username, username and 75,903 others

tagged carlossainz55

f1gossip the streets are saying carlos was in suzuka alone this week, his wife of two years yourusername reportedly took a flight home instead of following her husband along to suzuka after the singapore win... trouble in paradise? 👀👀

view all 4,870 comments

username omg it's happening

username FINALLY GOOD RIDDANCE

username my man is back on the market!!!!! time for someone prettier, hotter, better, basically anyone opposite of his wife lol byeeeee

username ur all insane, she has her own job??? she can't follow her husband to every end of the earth

username waiting for the ig stories 'we've decided to split amicably, please allow us privacy'

username LOOOL i bet it's gonna say that word for word!!!! not like we'll see hers tho cause she locked us all out

username this acc made my day ahhhhhhhh

yourusername has posted a story

viewed by landonorris, carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

replies

carlossainz55 amor what's wrong??

yourusername i just dont understand why people have to be so mean.

landonorris carlando to the rescue dont worry y/n

carlossainz55

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,399,402 others

tagged yourusername

carlossainz55 this last week has been extra special for me, to know it is the anniversary of the first time i met my best friend, and that she was able to be with me when i lifted the trophy in singapore is a wonderful feeling.

but to see all the ignorant, unkind, and hurtful comments that are regularly directed at my wife has put a negative twirl on this time. my wife, to me, is the most beautiful woman in the world. she is kind, and loving, and has given up the world for me time and time again. no one knows our relationship more than her and i. many of you speak things that are so ignorant and false it is disgusting. if you are one of these people, please know, you are not a fan i find myself caring for.

i beg those who continue to speak poorly of my wife, to think about how your actions can harm others. thank you. and to yourusername, you are the most important light in my life. i cant wait to see you amor.

comments on this post have been limited

landonorris 🧡🧡

charles_leclerc be kind always!

yourusername te amo, always and forever.

carlossainz55 has posted a story

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yourusername i didnt even see you take that photo... ur so cute ily

landonorris tell her i got 50 of the flowers for her

username omg i love that book!!!! y/n has great taste what a queen

username i would die to be ur wife, but i would also die to be y/n's wife so lol

ahhhh this is the smau part 2 i promised to my last carlos written story! thank you to the lovely person who requested it, i hope it's what you wanted! please let me know what you think, i hope you all loved it 💗

taglist

@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @sarahedwards16 @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios @ihrtdan @myloverjk-blog @glow-ish @goldenmclaren @mercunty

if your name is bolded/striked tumblr wont allow me to tag you! ive tried multiple things, but it's unfortunately giving me a very hard time with a few people. im so sorry! please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!!

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 smau #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1

[uluvjay]

New years- L. Norris

Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which your boyfriend can’t take how good you look during new years celebrations and fucks you in a club bathroom

Warnings?; Smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex(plz use protection), public sex, slight exhibitionism, slight candaulism kink, kissing, cursing, sorry for any errors

Day 12 of my ficmas celebration!

Lando’s eyes watched your body intensely, the way your hips moved against the front of your best friend, arms swaying in the air, your hair flying around as you swung your head along to the beat.

He was stood up in the dj booth besides Martin while you and your friends took over the dance floor, you had decided to wear a black silk dress out, the tight material stinking to your now sweating body-leaving even less to the imagination.

“Why don’t you just go down there?” Max laughed from beside him, causing him to come out of his unholy thoughts.

“What do you mean?”

“Mate you’ve been eye fucking her since you got up here, everyone can see you undressing her with your eyes.” Max laughed at his dear friend.

“She’s having fun.” Lando mumbled with a small shrug

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

Lando knew max was correct, it didn’t matter what you two were in the middle of or what you were doing, if he wanted you he was pulling you away from whatever it is that’s occupying your attention.

Lando ignored his friends giggles as he turned and made his way out of the dJ booth and onto the dance floor, fighting his way through the crowd of sweaty and drunk bodies until he found you.

“Lando!” You beamed as your boyfriend came into sigh, his tight dress shirt showing off his tanned chest and necklace you’d gotten him for his birthday.

“Hi baby.” He smiled back and pulled you into his arms, his hands landing low on your waist as yours wrapped around his neck.

“Are you having fun?” He questioned, looking down at your sweaty frame.

“Mhm, Martins playing all my favorites tonight.” You smirked knowing your boyfriend may have had something to do with that.

“So that’s why you’ve been down here moving like no one’s watching?” He teased

“M’ just having fun.” You grumbled.

“I know baby.” He laughed.

“Will you walk with me to the bathroom? Don’t wanna go alone.” You asked, the club was usually busy but with the added new year eve celebrations it was even more packed than usual.

“Of course.” He smiled and pulled away but not before sliding his hand into yours and allowing you to lead the way to the woman’s room.

His eyes dropped to your plump ass immediately, watching the way it bounced as you walked-he couldn’t wait to get home and fuck you into next week.

He hadn’t even realized that you two had made it into the bathroom until he felt your warm hand leave his. Looking up he heard your small grumbles about needing to pee as you made your way into one of the stalls.

And Lando hated to admit the way he felt his already aching cock stir at the sound of your pleasurable sigh that came from your mouth once you were able to go.

He wasn’t completely sure if that’s what made him push you back into the stall when you tried to exit, or if that’s what made him pull you into a breathtaking kiss.

His hands were gripping tightly onto your ass as yours tangled into his messy curls, lips moving in sync as his tongue slid into your mouth fought yours for a moment before taking over.

He basked in the small moan you let out when his hands began to slide underneath your dress but a pout is what quickly formed when you pulled your lips from his.

“Baby we can’t do this here, we’re in public.” You spoke, head leaning against the side of the stall while Lando looked down at you.

“We can be quiet.” He smirked, his large hands still making their way in between your legs.

“La-oh” you began but were cut off as one of his thick fingers slid inside your cunt.

“No panties?” He smirked down at you as your mouth fell open from his second finger sliding in.

“D-didn’t want pantie lines.” You whimpered

Lando leaned down nice and close to your ear, fingers speeding up.

“Liar, wore them with it a few weeks ago.” He whispered before swallowing your deep moan with his mouth, lips moving sloppily against yours.

He continued working you with his fingers, speeding up and slowing down to pull wanting moans from your throat.

You could feel yourself right on the edge, the fire in your tummy burning hot as your thighs began to shake, all Lando had to do was-

“No,no why’d you stop.” You cried as he pulled his fingers from you, popping them into his mouth as he sucked them clean of your juices.

“Because I want you to come on my cock, not my fingers.” He smirked, moving his wet fingers down to undo the button of his pants before sliding them down along with his boxers, just enough for his aching cock to slip out.

Your mouth watered at the sight of it, his tip was red and swollen begging for the smallest bit of attention. A bit of precum had ran down to meet the prominent vein that spread along the topside of his cock, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t ready to drop to your knees right then and there.

Lando knew the look in your eye and by the way you unconsciously licked your lips he knew what you wanted, but right now wasn’t the time.

“I’ll let you get a taste once we’re home, but right now all I want is to fuck you.” He spoke lowly as his hands came to the back of your thighs and signaled for you to jump.

You wrapped your legs tight around his waist, dress rolling up your thighs the perfect amount for him to slip right in. Your back was pressed firmly against the side of the stall as he reached down to pump his cock a few times.

And soon you were gasping at the delicious burn that filled your body when he slipped in, filling you to the absolute brim.

He moved his hips slowly, allowing you a moment of adjustment before he was quickly changing pace and fucking into with fast but deep strokes, basking in the way your eyes rolled every time his tip hit the spongy spot inside you.

“Fuck lan, j-just like that.” You cried, hands coming up to grip his already messy curls.

The sounds of your mixed whimpers and skin slapping filled the tiny stall, Lando’s movements never ending even as you heard the door open and a pair of heels against the floor.

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Lando, however you were only met with an evil smirk and a look of pure determination.

The little shit had brought a thumb between your thighs to play with your sensitive bud, earning Lando a look of pure hopelessness as you both knew there was no way of keeping you quiet now.

“Lan-ngh!-shit.” You whimpered as you could feel the denied climax from earlier creeping back up, the burn returning to your lower stomach even more intense this time.

Lando groaned at the way you began to clench him, “fuck baby, so tight.” He growled.

You two were so caught up in each other that you almost missed the gasp that came from a few stalls down, your eyes grew wide remembering the girl that had came into the bathroom.

However Lando still didn’t care and simply brought a finger to his lips, signaling you to stay quiet. However that was quite hard as his hips began moving at an unforgiving pace and you were knocked over the edge.

Your head slammed against the stall as your climax overtook your body, you brain short circuiting at the overwhelming feeling in your body as Lando continued fucking you through your high.

“Shit baby, I’m going to come.” Lando cried as he could feel his own fire growing in his stomach.

“Go on lan, fill me up” you encouraged the boy, hands tangled in his damp curls, brushing back the ones that had begun to stick to his sweat covered forehead.

“Fuh…fuck!” He growled as he stilled inside of you and you felt the familiar twitch of his cock inside you before your walls were painted white with his release.

He pressed his forehead against yours as you both caught your breaths and it was the sound of the bathroom door opening and the chant of “happy new year” from outside that brought you both back to earth.

“Happy new year baby.” Lando giggled as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours softly.

“Happy new year my love.” You cheesed looking up at him with soft and tired eyes, he smirked at the fucked out expression on your face and realized you two should probably get cleaned up and head home.

Exiting the bathroom after getting cleaned up and fixing yourselves you made your way back to the group up by the dj booth where you were greeted with Max and Pietra who both held smirks on their faces.

“Looks like you two had some fun bringing the new year.” Max spoke with a giggle.

“Yeah, I’d say it was pretty nice.” Lando spoke, breaking into laughter as you elbowed his side.

“Wasn’t nice for the girl a few stalls down” you mumbled slightly embarrassed.

“Ehh she’ll be fine, she got a free show.”

“Lando!” You scolded but he only laughed harder and pulled you into a kiss.

“Love you” he cheesed

“Yeah, yeah, I love you to.” You grumbled but snuggled into his side as his arms held you tight.

-

Happy new years my loves!

Also the last fic of my celebration🥹

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