(no subject)
Title: Freedom's Just Another Word
Fandom: Deadwood
Pairing: Trixie/Alma (mentions Al/Trixie, because you can't really not)
Rating: PG-13? Sex, drugs, foul language, vague stream-of-consciousness, and all the S3 spoilers I could find.
Word count: 161
A/N: I'm not kidding about the spoilers (but come on, like anyone thought any of that was going to work out).
Alma’s eyes when she gets like this are like ink dropped into water, dark circles opening out and out. That’s the most fucking poetry Trixie’s capable of just now, the Widow fucking Ellsworth staring her down with those eyes that mean another world of hurt, the same black dress Trixie’s seen a hundred times slipping down her shoulders.
The first slide back is the worst: it’s the one reminds you you’re human, is what Al said when it was her, but it never mattered for her one way or the other. She never had to be anything else.
Alma doesn’t have the kind of skin you’d expect from a woman of her caliber: there are freckles along her collarbone. There are freckles lower down, and she wonders, but Alma barely moves when Trixie drags her mouth against them. Barely moves, until Trixie runs her palms flat against Alma’s stomach, and the noise she makes then isn’t anything Trixie would have anticipated.
Fandom: Deadwood
Pairing: Trixie/Alma (mentions Al/Trixie, because you can't really not)
Rating: PG-13? Sex, drugs, foul language, vague stream-of-consciousness, and all the S3 spoilers I could find.
Word count: 161
A/N: I'm not kidding about the spoilers (but come on, like anyone thought any of that was going to work out).
Alma’s eyes when she gets like this are like ink dropped into water, dark circles opening out and out. That’s the most fucking poetry Trixie’s capable of just now, the Widow fucking Ellsworth staring her down with those eyes that mean another world of hurt, the same black dress Trixie’s seen a hundred times slipping down her shoulders.
The first slide back is the worst: it’s the one reminds you you’re human, is what Al said when it was her, but it never mattered for her one way or the other. She never had to be anything else.
Alma doesn’t have the kind of skin you’d expect from a woman of her caliber: there are freckles along her collarbone. There are freckles lower down, and she wonders, but Alma barely moves when Trixie drags her mouth against them. Barely moves, until Trixie runs her palms flat against Alma’s stomach, and the noise she makes then isn’t anything Trixie would have anticipated.