#3 am thoughts under the influence

[indexvirus]

So, what do we think about this?

It's actually strange how, the more I read into SotE, the more I feel Miquella is not intentionally evil.

It's ironic. Before the DLC, my headcanon pretty much was him having Griffith-esque themes, wanting to make his own Falconia.

And now when the DLC has come out with all it implies, I feel I'm wrong. I feel increasingly there is a "tragic misunderstanding of one's own self and limits" leading to "end justifies the means" to "road to hell is paved with good intentions" here.

SotE doesn't undo Miquella's kindness.

He very much is still the character who grew frustrated with the uselessness of the Golden Order when it offered no deliverance for his suffering sister (Radagon's Ring of Light),

who fed his own blood to a sapling in hopes it would grow into a new Erdtree and provide a haven for the outcast (Haligtree Knight Armour, Old Albus Dialogue, Royal Knight Helm),

who developed unalloyed gold to ward off effects of outer gods such as the frenzied flame (Unalloyed Gold Needle, Note: Miquella's Needle),

and who wished to free Godwyn of his suffering (Golden Epitaph).

Miquella observes, learns and improves upon. What did he learn to make the decisions he did? To take the same path his mother took, inspired by the suffering inflicted on those dear to them, believing firmly the sacrifices would "fix the world".

Both made a promise/vow/prayer we never hear fully (Final Cutscene, Golden Braid).

The suffering of the Tarnished, of Godfrey, of the Misbegotten and the Omen for peace and order. The suffering of the Haligtree, of Malenia, of Radahn and Mohg, for equality and compassion.

Marika separated Radagon from herself, but love was what broke her, so Miquella separated St. Trina from himself and divested himself of his love.

But unlike Marika, who realized the mistakes she'd made and chose to defy the Greater Will, and Radagon who stayed delusionally loyal, it was Miquella who was delusional, and St. Trina who realized what a terrible mistake was in the making and what terrible mistakes had already been made...

St. Trina is Miquella. This is him asking "Make me stop, don't let me become a god, you must kill me, grant me forgiveness". At some point he realized what he'd done and only death would grant him forgiveness for it...

For what kind of a god would he become when he'd abandoned all he'd promised to save.

[kairoot]

── ࣪ ˖ ❛ 𝓜𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑢𝑝 𝓥𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠．

‧₊˚ 𝓼𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: they do the voiceover for your makeup routine 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : enha x 𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : fluff , crack 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 : no 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : jokes, profanity, pet names, this was shorter than i intended, some of these are kind of inspired by some tiktoks i saw.

— ( 𝓂𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑛’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 ) : pls leave reblogs, they are much appreciated !! ♡︎

✿ member’s headcanons under the cut !!

⊹ 𝓁ℎ𝑠．

asking hee to do this was a piece of cake

he agreed to it immediately

he lovesssss watching you do your makeup

so when you asked him he was like, “well.. yes!”

gonna keep it real with you, he has absolutely no idea what ANYTHING is

he just knows the things that he buys for you and that’s it

flirty mcbirdy over here, he’s barely even watching the makeup, mostly watching you

“hi guys, today i’m doing my girlfriend’s makeup voiceover.” he says into the mic, the video starting with you priming your face as you’ve already did skincare prior to starting the video.

you were next to him while he narrated your routine, holding in your giggles as he began naming the products that you were using.

“okay so now she’s uhm.. damn she’s gorgeous..” he paused for a moment, watching you through the screen as you applied the first product of your base.

you nudged him, urging him to stay on topic as your face began to warm up.

“she’s applying, uh— the— the..” he thought for a moment, the product seemed familiar but he couldn’t think of the name.

it was foundation.

“and then she’s.. wiping it all over her face.” he mumbled, still not paying attention to what you were doing but admiring you instead.

“it’s blending, hee..” you whispered, not wanting the mic to pick up your voice.

expect the comments to go insane about hee’s little flirtatious comments.

⊹ 𝓅𝑗𝑠．

ngl, he’s a bit confused as to why you asked him to do this but he says yes anyway

why does this man actually know what the products are??

quite literally does the whole voiceover better than any beauty influencer you’ve ever seen..

compliments you throughout the video

he’s literally so polite

“hello everyone, today y/n has asked me to do her voiceover, so here i am!” he says excitedly, watching you apply the first product.

“so here, she’s putting some of the foundation in her t-zone.. she has really great skin.” he explains.

you’re sat next to him, shocked at how he’s able to understand the whole routine.

“after she blends, she goes in with her.. concealer, i think.” he was right again.

as you blend that out, jay begins talking about the product that you’re using.

“yes, i pay attention to my girl’s routine.” he says, knowing everyone’s gonna wonder how he could even know all of this. you bite back a smile, his comment making your heart warm.

now the whole internet wants a boyfriend like jay.

⊹ 𝓈𝑗𝑦．

he is very eager to do it. why? because he loves you and is so down bad for you

ummm he knows NOTHINGGG about makeup 😫

another flirty one

count how many times he says he wants to kiss you or compliments your lips challenge (jake is so weak for kisses, you cannot convince me otherwise)

he’s so giggly throughout the whole thing ??

he definitely gets flustered over your beauty, esp your bareface <3

he’s lowkey your hype man even though he has no idea what he’s talking abt

“hey guys, it’s jake! today i’m gonna give you all a tutorial for y/n’s everyday makeup.” he beamed confidently. he watched you start your routine, already giggling at the small things you do throughout the first 30 seconds.

“so she’s gonna start with, um..” his giggles cutting him off. “she’s starting with the putty stuff. it kind of looks like play-doh!”

“jake!” you nudge him a bit, rolling your eyes playfully.

“sorry, sorry!” he laughs. “now she’s putting on.. powder? wait, no, that’s definitely bronzer.”

“yeahh, apply that bronzer, babe!” he exclaimed.

it was powder foundation ??

“she looks so good already, wanna give her a kiss..” he said, watching you pat the product onto your skin.

⊹ 𝓅𝑠ℎ．

bro is so impatient

he can’t think of any of the name of the products that you’re using which frustrates him to the MAX

pls don’t laugh at him, he will sulk 😕

cracks jokes abt how long you take

“now she’s applying.. uhm, glitter?” he tilted his head, watching you apply highlighter to the inner corners of your eyes.

“highlighter, babe.” you corrected him, holding back your laughs.

“whatever it is, it’s very shiny. and she’s putting it on so do whatever she’s doing if you want this look.”

you snorted a bit, finding his impatience hilarious.

“watch as she puts on her favorite mascara that she made me buy her.. because she doesn’t care about my pockets or if i go broke.” he sighed.

you landed a playful smack to his shoulder, scoffing.

“anyways, she takes forever.” he huffed. “she told me she was gonna be ready in 10 minutes but 10 minutes turned into two hours, so i guess im gonna have to wait.”

please don’t ever ask him to do this again.

⊹ 𝓀𝑠𝑤．

like jay, he knows what everything is

he’s actually really excited to do this

he pays attention when you do your makeup and pays attention when he gets his makeup done so

he basically knows what everything is he just.. doesn’t know how to do it

he knows all of your favorite products

count how many times he calls you pretty challenge:

“look at how pretty she is!” he exclaims as you prime your face. “i did her skin care by the way.”

he watched as you applied your concealer, telling the viewers exactly what brand it was and what it did for your skin.

“i’m pretty sure this is her favorite product.”

“okay! next she’s gonna set with this one powder that she absolutely loves.” he giggled.

you chuckle at his excitement, not expecting him to like this as much as he did. you just knew people would want more of him narrating your routines and grwms.

“and now, she’s putting on her blush.. I love this part.” he said, mesmerized by you and your features.

“isn’t she so pretty?”

⊹ 𝓎𝑗𝑤．

he’s so confused

tbh he just yaps the whole time

you don’t know what he’s talking about, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about..

he just knows that he buys some of the stuff

he gives random facts throughout the video ??

“okay, so i’m not really sure of what she’s putting on her face right now..” he said, scratching his head slightly.

“did you guys know that dolphins name each other?”

“jungwon..?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking at him confusingly.

“oh, right! sorry, now she’s applying some.. nose.. stuff?”

you mentally face palmed at his attempt to name the products, which he ended up wrong every time.

“if it wasn’t already obvious, i know none of these things, i just get whatever she tells me to buy.” jungwon giggled, watching you apply your blush.

please DO NOT let him do this ever again 😭🙏🏽

⊹ 𝓃𝑟𝑘．

bro does NOT wanna be here

he doesn’t wanna do it at all 😭

but somehow you convince him (you told him you’d buy him robux)

he guesses everything

some of it he gets right somehow

gets so triggered when you laugh at him 😭

“um, okay, she’s applying concealer.. that’s concealer, right?” he looked over at you, as the video showed you applying the product.

you looked at him, giggling.

“why are you laughing? is that not concealer?” he asked again, becoming irritated.

“yes.. just keep going, ki.” you cover up your laughs.

he rolls his eyes playfully, “anyways, now she’s putting on some powder shit.. i don’t know.”

“and she’s.. beating it on her face..? why are you punching yourself?” he quirks an eyebrow.

you shake your head, sighing at his confusion.

✿

TAGLIST: @haechansbbg @contyynishimura @sasfransisco @kgneptun @jungwonderz @enha-stars @dioll @jakesangel @cupidscourt @violetwitchmcu @haohaoshoe @randomgirl02228 @wonsdoll @powerpuffstuts @flwrstqr @elysianiki — send an ask to join.

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

yandere Hc/scenario In every soundwave you know please!!!! Everyday I'm craving for his content... although I'm more into human but I guess I could open to all kind like cybertronian s/o too

I'll be doing Prime, One and Earthspark since those are the versions I know best! (´▽｀Uu) I would do Animated too - but I know little of the series and only more about Optimus, Bee and Starscream.

（*＾-＾*）

Yandere!Soundwave (Headcanons) (TFP, TFO & TFE)

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour. Mentions of stalking, kidnapping, obsessive ideas/thoughts. Reader is human (TFp & TFE) and Cybertronian (TFO) and gender neutral.

TRANSFORMERS PRIME: SOUNDWAVE

A possessive yandere that stalks and recollects everything about his beloved S/O.

Soundwaves was sure he would come to hate humans - they were like... parasites, too primitive. Inferior.

And yet - you were not like the other humans. You were... more.

Perfect, ethereal, unique - Soundwave was sure he caught a glitch or something, but his spark would beat at the rythm of your own heartbeat (Soundwave was sure his spark and your heart were bonded, connected - synchronized) whenever he got to see you.

Sadly, the Autobots got you before you and him got to meet like true sparkmates, as you accidentally saw one fight between the vehicons and that yellow autobot.

Soundwave got to see you when he connected with one of the vehicons and saw through their optics... oh, precious you.

To this day, Soundwave is not sure what made him fall overpedes for you - and that frustrastes him as it is the only knowledge he doesn't possess.

Definitely stalks you if you have any type of presence on the internet, no matter if you are a private user or an influencer.

Everything about you - any photo, any username, any post, e-mail, ubication, everything about you rests now deep inside of his system as data, and he keeps collecting more and more.

Soundwave would manage to kidnap you after sending you a false message under the impression it was from any of the autobots that tasked you to meet somewhere so they could take you to the base.

Before you could yell for help, you were already snatched.

Every little reaction, sound, mannerism, body language - anything is getting recorded and Soundwave is just so fascinated.

Treats you like the most fragile thing in the whole universe.

Allows himself to be selfish and keep you in his arms, working and from time to time, look down at you and place a kiss emoji in his mask.

Escaping is a far away dream of yours now - Soundwave knows everything and hears everything, and he made sure to not let you see anything about the Nemesis when he brought you to his quarters.

You are trapped - like a precious butterfly inside of a glass case.

"Soundwave: loves dearly S/O. Soundwave: knows everything about S/O. S/O: Soundwave's sparkmate."

TRANSFORMERS EARTHSPARK: SOUNDWAVE

Earthspark Soundwave gives me the vibes of a yandere that starts obsessing with you out of hate.

He wants to hate you - you were a human! A human like G.H.O.S.T (even when you were not related to that organization) that locked him and his fellow teammates after that traitor of Megatron betrayed all of them!

Changing a little bit the Earthspark's story - you and Soundwave crossed paths when Soundwave managed to escape from G.H.O.S.T's HQ - it was at night, and he was trying to find somewhere to hide.

Like the Maltos, many people in Witwicky had their homes in the forest. And it just happened that you had a home like that, too. Soundwave managed to hide behind it - and by Primus' choice, you were still wide awake right at 3 AM.

You would have screamed in fear at the sight of a giant robot - but you quickly catched on at how he just seemed to be trying to hide, not attacking you or anything. And when you heard many cars pulling right outside of your home.

Soundwave was just about to start running again, but when he heard the front door open and you come out, already screaming your lungs out to the agents to leave your property and such, managing to even scare them off as you didn't allow them to speak or anything.

"Threaten me all you want - it is 3 freaking AM and you are all suddenly just arriving to my property! I will call my lawyers and the town's mayor!" You yell as the agents finally leave. And you turn to the tall robot who peaks his helm from the back of your house. "Uh... you can stay - just, do not get those weirdos back or something. Good night."

Ugh! How Soundwave loaths you! With your boring life and your sympathy and your will to keep him hidden and stay at your territory! Your human behaviour, always telling him he could count with you, that you could be a shoulder to cry on and how you always give him that kind smile and those reassuring words, and...

In a few days and night, Soundwave becomes a protective, obsessive yandere who is not afraid of destroying others if it means to keep you safe.

Is not afraid of snatching you from your home and life the moment Optimus, Megatron and the others find out about his whereabouts and about you.

Vows silently to protect you with his own life - he was gonna shed the energon of others and his own to keep you safe and sound.

Cry and beg all you want to Soundwave about letting you go - he is not going to do so, dear. He is keeping you safe, he is keeping you far away from the same bots who ruined his life.

He is not gonna let them take you away from him - his new light of hope, his new reason to live and fight.

TRANSFORMERS ONE: SOUNDWAVE

You and Soundwave have known each other from a long time ago.

You two worked together, and you two followed the High guard after defecting from the False Prime's orders after witnessing all the horrible things he did and the murder of the Primes.

Many times you grieved after watching the fall of the Primes, knowing all of you were now in danger if Sentinel Prime and his followers found you all, no longer able to go home and knowing so many innocents were suffering at the hands of that monster.

Soundwave held you closer as you cried against his chesplate, trying to whisper you hopeful words... but he was slowly spiraling in a sea of despair and that sensation of everything seeming lost.

A delusional, overprotective yandere - with the pass of time, he starts to actually believe you two are the conjux of the other.

Doesn't leave you alone - he is always by your side or keeping you with him.

If he was already too protective before, with the arrival of those four bots from Iacon and the sight of how one of them nearly ended Starscream, Soundwave became ten times more protective - and add another 100 times when they were attacked by Sentinel Prime's people.

Imagine the despair and down righ madness if Soundwave witnessed you being one of the bots that got taken back to Iacon.

He might have actually... killed a few bots when he got into Iacon to fight back against Sentinel Prime's defenses.

When he found you, he hugged you so tightly and promised to protect you - he promised to kill anyone who ever tried to take away his beloved conjux.

You become a precious gem - when he leaves to follow Megatron after he is vanished from Iacon, he takes you with him, and you comply.

It was the mech you've known for so many years!

... But you can't help but be afraid at the fact that... the Soundwave you knew has changed.

And you decided to kept silence whenever he would whisper to you sweet, protective and delusional promises - you are his conjux, after all. He has to protect you, and he is not afraid of beheading anybot who stands in his way.

Can you believe I couldn't find a good TFO Soundwave gif here on tumblr? Tumblr, help me out, man. (╬▔皿▔)╯Vhaos out!

[readerforexiao]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 | 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ

⌗ Sylus x Fem!Reader | married + parent au, romance, fluff, light angst | tw: pregnancy, childbirth trauma, post partum, first time parents, mental health struggles, insecurites, anxiety, underlined depression, panic attack, reference to trauma and loss, implied violence + death, somewhat lore compliant | wc: 4k

⌗ A/n: this is only the beginning. The groundwork has been laid and now i can focus on the family dynamic </3. To my dearest friend who helped me whenever I got stuck, I'm immensely grateful🌹

⌗ “I would do it all again. Choose the wait of a century…” he said between kisses, each peck a declaration that you understood the meaning behind every tender touch and every whispered promise sealed in the air. “Take my last breath as if it were my greatest honour. Because I am yours. All of me…"

On the day you appeared as real as the nightmares that haunted him, your fingers felt smaller than his and rougher than he remembered. Your gaze had lost its affection and stretched before him like a frayed horizon— becoming an unravelled boundary between the warmth he knew and the unknown beyond.

Where there had been a luminous depth— like the pale glow of moonlight brushing over still midnight waters— lay a turbulent sea withdrawn and untouchable. Even the sense of belonging he felt had slipped away like the last light of dusk fading into the distance.

It shook him from his thoughts and back into a reality he could not escape.

A reunion, he’d called it when the bullet pierced his chest the blood stained his shirt. A test, a reawakening, he led himself to believe when the tendrils of his evol began their slow work of regeneration. Sylus knew desperation had driven him and not mere calculation.

In all selfishness, he wanted to lay his darkness bare before you because he could not stand the idea of your ignorance while he remembered it all, those fractured, empty memories in place of where he once resided.

Sylus was but a child broken by betrayals, a man defined by those scars, and shaped by the ominous hands of fate. His aggression and impatience were the results of more than mere habits; they became ingrained parts of his nature.

Cold and unyielding became of his features; red eyes marked by the devil’s touch, a name both feared and revered. But then you crossed the chasm of his fractured soul, pressing your hands into open wounds and putting your nose where it did not belong with a promise of forever. And he could still hear the manic laughter that echoed at your naivety.

Was it a challenge or a taunt in the way you pushed his buttons? Or had he simply lost his mind, finding himself helplessly drawn under your influence?

It was maddening how in every life you drove him from a man who’d never known love to a fool at your feet. And so, seeing you wander into the N109 zone like a lost kitten searching for its owner, the familiarity broke him.

In a moment of reckless clarity, his heart made the decision that handed you a weapon and certainly his demand was a cruel form of intimacy, it wasn’t the love he wanted to show, but it was the only way he thought would reach across the gulf between you.

The echo of the shot dissolved into silence, and he searched your face, his sanity splintered, the tether fraying and refusing to connect. It hadn’t worked. Of course not. How foolish, how desperately pathetic to hope otherwise.

Yet he tried again… for his heart ached for you. But each time he reached for the past he was met with resistance, caught in a relentless cycle.

He chased the memory of you to his end, time and time again, watching as you flashed those bright eyes at another, laughter and tender touches shared with someone warmer. You were cared for and shown how to live in this life by someone who knew how to protect you beneath the stars. Much like another had monitored your heart and anticipated your needs, just as he had done.

It made his attempts feel insignificant.

But Sylus did not relinquish you even then, nor did he dare to ruin your happiest moments for he knew he would always be yours, and with patience, you would be his.

You saved him, after all.

It was that single resolve to keep wanting you that brought him to this moment, cradling his new-born daughter close to his chest, marvelling at how impossibly light she was in his hands, how easily they could break her.

He couldn’t believe it— after all the mistakes he made and the things he ruined, this was his life now even though he didn’t feel worthy of her existence.

She was a miracle, blessed with eyes parallel to his own, deeply doused in red— a colour he once loathed for its synergy with blood, but here it was soft and untainted in her eyes as they fluttered open and peered up at him.

His feet were spellbound and lodged between the crevices of the earth by her existence, that alone granted him all he thought beyond his reach.

Merely days that she’d been in this world and already had she turned his life upside down.

“Awake already, little one?” He whispered, barely fifteen minutes since she drifted off.

A smile crept onto his face as he fell back into the rhythm of her soothing her fussing. Sylus glanced at the untouched cot in front him, cold and empty, as he held the infant it was intended for. He mused, knowing that it would remain that way for many more nights.

He pivoted on his heels and walked around the room with her. She was entirely dependant on him, he realized, as he adjusted her over his shoulder, being careful with her neck and the amount of movement he made. Though it wasn’t in the way others before her had been; not in the way you were.

As he strolled around the room, his consciousness meandered through the landscape of this existence, a world steeped in complex relationships where dependence often came with strings attached.

He considered the people who worked under him at Onychinus, each cloaked in their own shadows, driven by desperation of sorts.

Most had sold their souls and traded their humanity for survival or power, engaging in incomprehensible acts to prove their worth.

To each their own, their choice to wallow in the filth beneath him. But even as they cowered in fear at his feet, there still lingered a pride and expectation— a desire for something in return.

Their loyalty was a currency exchanged for blood-stained bills and the hollow promise of protection. And even someone as powerful as him needed their willing hands, for he could not accomplish everything by himself.

He recalled a meeting with an operative, a sharp-witted woman who approached him with a proposal, eyes gleaming with ambition. “I need your backing on this, Sylus. In return, I can secure a major supply route,” she had said, her tone confident.

Despite his annoyance, he complied, aware her loyalty hinged on the favours he could grant her, a waltz of give and take that left no room for trust. For now, he needed her; she had yet to prove her worth in his plans.

Then there was Orion, a man large and sturdy in appearance, though his bulging stomach gave him a rounded look. Greedy at heart, he was nonetheless useful for his keen eye for anything of value, which meant Sylus would keep him around until he no longer served that purpose.

Perhaps these relationships weren’t the best examples to use as they only highlighted his dependence on them rather than theirs on him. But that was far from the truth.

He knew these people leached off him; they would be nowhere without his support. They depended on his money, power, and influence. If he chose to assert himself then they would be quickly reminded of who held their leashes.

It was different when it came to you. Your need of him was honest, not just a need for survival or security but something deeper. His presence grounded you and his strength fortified you.

In a time of unrelenting chaos, his support was a solace. It was a reliance that transcended mere necessity; it was built on trust and intimacy, a bond that flourished in the shadows of his empire.

What he gave, he received in kind. The love he showered, returned tenfold.

Still, you were able to stand on your own two feet without him. It wasn’t the same for his daughter who stared up at him seemingly captivated by his presence just as he was by hers.

With her, it was nothing of the kind. There were no ulterior motives, no agendas, no expectations— she just needed him. Not as Sylus, the leader of Onychinus— a cold-blooded monster— or as a sacrifice, but simply as her father. It was a stark contrast to the world outside, a world where trust was a rare commodity and relationships were transactional.

He welcomed the feeling of being needed by someone like her.

“What?” He grinned with a brow raised in playful questioning as he laid her in the center of his bed, watching her tiny form melt into the blankets.

Her features wrinkled in response to the shift in surroundings and it was a strange sensation to see her there in the middle, occupying the space where he would lay with you entangled.

She drew him in the same way you did. Suddenly, his heart pounded against the confines of its cage, swelling with a mix of pride and protectiveness, but it also raced with an emotion he found hard to perceive.

“You are everything I am not” The words coursed between them in secrecy, barely more than a whisper in a tone absent of the conviction and poise it usually had, softened alone by the rise and fall of her chest.

She was beautiful, held in the arms of a father who loved her.

He let his fingers trace her small hand, so delicate compared to his own scarred knuckles— hands hardened by the demands of survival, by years of a life he hadn’t chosen but had been thrust into, one lf cold stares and distant voices, where warmth was something fought for, not given freely.

“But that doesn’t matter because I will show you a world that won’t bruise you for breathing” he said, bringing his lips upon the dainty swell of her cheeks.

She would know laughter that wasn’t tainted with bitterness and shelter that didn’t feel like a cage. In his arms, she would know what it was like to be wanted, protected, and cherished in a way he had once only dreamed of.

“And you will loved for simply existing.” He promised, prodding at the balance of existence.

For tonight and forever on, he made that vow to be her protector and her greatest source of strength. A promise made in sincerity on his life; on the heart given to you— the one he would use to love this child.

She would never find herself in the same situation as her mother, clinging to him amid the storm on the eve of a failed battle. Your head buried against his neck, your hands drenched in his blood and hooked onto his shirt, your beautiful face twisted in pain. The red receding from his one remaining eye, taking with it a promise unkept.

No, that was his tragedy, and never will it be hers. He would shield her from it all, lay the world in her hands if she so desired, and tear it apart all the same if it ever dared to harm her.

She stirred at his words as if she was answering him and Sylus didn’t know it was possible to fall in love all over again with someone other than you.

He let his gaze linger on her a moment longer, then looked up toward the door waiting for you to return.

It had taken some convincing, but he’d finally insisted you step out just for a brief reprieve after the whirlwind of the past few days. You agreed but reluctantly so, though he knew you hadn’t wandered far and you most likely were in a hurry to return.

Already, motherhood had taken root within you.

By the time you returned, showered and fed, you found yourself missing your husband and daughter even more.

You crossed the threshold, the soft orange glow of the lamps welcomed you and immediately you found Sylus standing over the bed with his back to you, the baby fussing in his arms.

Your whole world in one scene.

“I can feel your eyes on us, sweetie,” He announced, not even needing to turn around to sense your presence.

You wrapped your arms around his midsection and rested your head against his back, letting the rhythm of his breathing soothe you.

Out of nowhere, a knot tightened in your throat and Sylus as if sensing it, turned to envelop you tighter.

A whiff of black musk breached your nose, his signature scent evoked memories of late nights spent in each other’s company, of whispered confessions and last goodbyes.

Your body did not move in his hold, but your hands gripped his shirt for dear life.

You felt yourself begin to float, the ground beneath your feet dissolving. Then the memories of labour crept in from the edges, stirring the same deep unshakable pain. It clawed its way to the surface, latching onto your mind, the sensations as vivid and overwhelming as if it were happening all over again.

You shuddered at the recollection of your screams when you were urged to push, the buzzing they left behind still droning in your ears.

Beads of sweat formed on your skin and smeared, leaving behind faint marks on Sylus’ chest.

“Look at me,” he urged, guiding you to sit on the bed.

He sank onto his knees. A man who never lowered himself to anyone now knelt before you, his worry palpable in the way his thumb hurried in pursuit of your endless stream of tears.

You were in so much pain he could see it reflected in the quaking of your pupils and the tremor of your fingertips, he was reduced to nothing but an onlooker and his touch hesitant.

“That’s right, keep your eyes on me”

You followed his voice as he counted down your breaths.

“Sylus…” you whispered.

“I’m here,” he kissed your knuckles, the touch of his lips like a hot ember on your skin.

“I hoped that once she was here, everything would… piece together. But it’s not like that at all” You sucked in a breath, “Instead, I feel overwhelmed. Every time I see her little face, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough— that somehow, I’ve already failed, just like I have with everything else”

“I understand, but—”

“Her life depends on me,” you shook your head as you continued, urgency creeping into your tone. “She’s the one person I don’t want to let down”

“You’re not failing her. You’re here, and you’re trying. It’s—”

“It’s hard to see that when I feel like I’m drowning,” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “What if I can’t give her the life she deserves? What if I mess this up? What if my lack of understanding hurts her in the future, and she grows up feeling unloved or unsupported?”

Sylus stopped you, firm yet gentle in his approach. “Why do you punish yourself with such careless thoughts?”

He held your gaze, filled with admiration for your strength— so different from his own, as he often ran and hid from his battles.

“Let me remind you we’ve faced challenges before, you and I alone, long before we found each other, isn’t that right, Sweetie?” You nodded reluctantly, and he went on, “In all you’ve done so far, it hasn’t come naturally; it’s taken your time, blood, sweat, and tears, but didn’t the results yield something good? All things worth doing are hard, and you’ve done something incredible by bringing life into this world. It’s something that inevitably reshapes all you know into something unknown, so isn’t it okay to feel a little overwhelmed? We’re here, we’re present, and we’re willing to learn and that’s what matters most”

His sincerity cut through the rapid thudding in your head, quieting your tears to faint breaths.

There was validation in his words, even though you struggled to pinpoint your emotions or the kind of solace you sought because sometimes words just felt insufficient, especially when you knew they couldn’t bring about instant relief.

But even in the moments where nothing was said, Sylus was there—always there through it all, and perhaps that was why you believed everything he said despite the perturbation prancing inside you.

You inhaled shakily, closing your eyes to find a semblance of calm but the tears kept flowing and Sylus wiped them away each time. His hand came to rest on your stomach, the warmth from his palm seeping into your skin.

“You have me right here” The weight in his voice thicker than you’d ever heard before. A tremor slipped through, like he was holding back a flood with every syllable.

This was Sylus— your Sylus— who never allowed a tear to fall… until now.

A lone tear traced his cheek in defiance, his eyes tinged with red veins surrounding the crimson of his irises, as if daring him to show his vulnerability, and his head fell gently into your lap.

He pressed a kiss to your clothed thigh, lips lingering as if that one touch could steady him

He couldn’t let you see how affected he really was; couldn’t reveal that the weight of worry had been pressing on him just as heavily. For all his certainty, his strength, his fear wasn’t for himself.

"However you need me… because my love for you is all I have left to offer, as a man with nothing else to give" Sylus’s gaze flickered to yours, and you felt his breath catch as your fingers ran over the damp line on his cheek.

He raised himself, his nose brushing against yours as he tilted his head to connect his lips with yours. The subtle flavour of salt mingled on your tongues. Sylus felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for being alive. After everything that had happened, the stillness around you revealed that all you desired was his closeness more than ever.

Sylus pushed up onto his knees to deepen the kiss, tender and sweet with an undercurrent of urgency in his movement.

“I would do it all again. Choose the wait of a century… ” he said between kisses, each peck a declaration that you understood the meaning behind every tender touch and very whispered promise sealed in the air. “Take my last breath as if it were my greatest honour. Because I am yours. All of me…"

The rush of tears had now passed and you let the cradle song of contentment bathe you. Though fatigue tugged at your bones, hope flickered like a candle in the darkness. Your hearts pulsed in harmony, the burdens of worry lingering in the air, but never alone, he reminded you.

If Sylus was yours to love and hold, then you were his in sickness and in health. You belonged to each other, and if your souls were forever intertwined, then your daughter would be the embodiment of that shared love.

“She will be ours” you said breathlessly against his mouth and Sylus’ eyes, once the vivid red of fresh blood deepened to a dark almost infinite crimson, his eyelids heavy, pupils dilating.

“Ours…” He repeated, tasting the word as though it were new, something he wanted to savour.

He said it again, quieter this time, and the walls he so carefully constructed around himself, crumbled under the pressure of his emotions.

The sentiment set the mood thick, the way the flecks of gold marble enriched the lustreless grey walls; four corners that became the keeper of all your intimacy and your secrets, a witness to every unspoken thought and keen desire.

Now, they would also stand witness to the joy of your child as she grew, recording the moments of wonder, each giggle, every first step, and the murmur of her first words.

It would become her safety, her home, in the arms of those who loved her most.

You and Sylus found yourselves immersed in the soothing of your conscious when the sudden wail broke the tranquillity, causing him to pull back, his eyes wide with surprise.

The unexpected interruption jerked a laugh from your throat and in an instant, Sylus left your side and had the infant in his arms, a grin spread across his face while he ran a hand through his tousled hair.

He grabbed the nursing pillow from the cot on his way to you just as you settled against the pillows and pulled down your shirt to feed her.

“You know, I think she gets her appetite from you.” you giggled when she hungrily latched onto your nipple.

Sylus chuckled, watching his girls. “I’d like to think I’m a bit more civilized about it.”

You gaped at him before punching his leg, which caused a stir from the child who clearly disapproved.

“Sorry, sorry,” you quickly apologized, repositioning her to latch back on.

“A bit demanding too, aren’t you little one” he remarked, poking her cheek.

You glared at him. “You have something to say to me, honey?”

“Put the claws away, kitten. I only meant it as an observation” he said, his voice still low, though there was amusement in his tone.

“Careful, Sylus, or I might just take preference of your daughter over you" You quipped.

He scoffed as he climbed into bed beside you, “That’s a rather cruel thing to say. Shouldn’t you be happy she has one of your... traits?”

“Oh god…” You opened your mouth to retort, words catching on your lips, and whatever you meant to say dissolved in an instant as a thought took hold: what if she did inherit everything from her father and not just his beautiful eyes?

Your expression shifted, giving way to a contemplative silence.

“What is it?” He asked.

“She can have your looks, that’s fine, but as for your personality…”

He looked up from his daughter, breaking away from the sight of their adorably clashing eyes to fix you with an incredulous look. “What’s wrong with my personality?”

Did he really need to ask that?

“You’re difficult..”

Sylus clicked his tongue, “I’d prefer the term ‘tenacious and efficient,”

“Well I’d prefer the term ‘handful’”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t. Not particularly… you think?

With an all-too-familiar quirk of his lips hinting at amusement, you began to feel slightly annoyed— especially when your daughter’s insistent latch brought a sudden twinge of discomfort.

“It’s all fun and games until she turns out exactly like you” you muttered, half-jokingly.

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What did you expect, sweetie?”

“Right, because I was fully aware of the implications of breeding with a handful,” you teased.

“You know what I hear? Jealousy” He drawled.

“Jealousy? Really?” You narrowed your eyes.

His grin widened, “If she does turn out to be a little me, I wouldn’t mind adding another to balance things out… maybe one who takes after you.”

“Jeez, Sylus! It’s way too early for that.” You pushed his face away, laughter escaping your lips as your daughter, now full, drifted off with her tiny tongue still out, sleepily suckling at the air.

Both of you awe-struck at the sight before Sylus gathered her up and settled her across his chest while you nestled beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as your hand slipped over his, covering the one he kept protectively on her back.

After a moment, he spoke, “You know, no matter what she inherits from me, I’m grateful it’s you who brought her into this world. You’re the heart of our little family, and no matter what our future holds, I’ll always be here to support you”

By this point you were barely able to keep your eyes open, exhaustion pulling you toward sleep, but you heard him loud and clear.

“I’m lucky to have you,” you whispered back.

The last thing you remembered as Sylus’ kissing your forehead and pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Sleep well, beloved"

All rights reserved | Copyright @readerforexiao 2024

Do not copy, steal, or repost to any other platform 🥀

[izvmimi]

cw: breakup mention. alcohol use. hurt/comfort.

When Katsuki shows up to the exact location you provided him, just minutes after you’d called him out of the blue at 3 am, not even the excuse of being under the influence available to you given the three pathetic sips you’ve had of the can of beer in your right hand, you realize you hadn’t exactly thought this far.

You hadn’t expected him to pick up, and you hadn’t intended on leaving a message. Not from a number he couldn’t possibly know given you’d changed it about two years ago, and definitely not from you, not after the way you’d severed ties with him abruptly and mercilessly. 

In his opinion.

�� Okay, perhaps yours, too.

You had expected the half-groggy, half-livid way he’d answered, the hothead in him not immune to a call that would annoy literally anyone with a modicum of sense, but you hadn’t expected his voice to so immediately soften at the sound of yours, to recognize you so readily even.

And now watching him touch down from the sky to where you sit on a park bench, just several feet away from a 24 hour convenience store, you realize you’re not sure what to say.

Still, you’re happy to see him. Enough so, that for a moment, you blink back tears in your eyes, precluding you from seeing how uncharacteristically gentle his red ones are. 

He tries to play it cool, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark gray sweatpants, a slight hunch in his back accentuated by the snug fit of a black hoodie. A skull insignia covers the front, and you wonder if he’ll ever grow up. 

That was one of your points of contention when you were once an item. Growing up. 

“Hey.”

Katsuki is careful; reticent in his speech as he moves towards you, and you can see him ponder before he takes a seat by your side. You clutch the can of beer in your hand a little tighter, resting your arm upon the knees you’ve folded and raised onto the seat of the park bench. His posture is still closed, hands in his pockets, and he stares straight ahead. He lets out a sigh.

“Why’d you call? Get dumped or something?”

You scoff as you say, “yes.”

Katsuki did not actually expect you to say that and turns to look at you, which has you amused, if only for a second. You’re not drunk, but you sure are acting it, you think, but perhaps madness from your bout of depression is really settling in.

“Months ago, though,” you add. You take another sip of your beer, and he watches you wince. He knows you’re not actually a fan of it at all, and plus there’s nothing intelligent or safe about drinking in the middle of the night without a companion, without a definite way home. 

He remembers he actually doesn't know where your home is these days.

“Why did you need to see me?” he asks firmly now, his eyes still focused on the can because he’s afraid of looking at your face and letting old love resurface.

You smile and look at him, resting your head on your knees.

“I didn’t expect you to come,” you admit.

“You called.”

In another world, he’d then roll his eyes at you, but tonight he looks at you steadily and seriously. Perhaps he's the one who has matured, and you haven’t. He remains your longtime crush and your longtime crutch, even now, as you feel yourself lose your grip on sanity, embracing madness, regardless of how transient it might be.

It’s quiet for a few more moments, save for the rustling of leaves as the winds of the witching hour pick up between you, and you let out a soft sigh, realizing he won’t say anything else to fill the silence. Letting your feet fall flat to the ground, you shrug.

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought of you,” you admit. 

Katsuki’s eyes slide away from you quickly, his fingers curling around the edge of the seat at his sides, as if bracing himself.

“It’s been years,” he reminds you. You nod, without looking at him.

“My heart remembers.”

It’s cheesy and he doesn’t mock you for it. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I see.”

You’re suddenly embarrassed, face warmed from toes to nose. He sees. What does he see? That you’re pathetic? That you’re needy? That perhaps you were wrong all these years and even if he’s flown back to see you, you’re the one crawling back to him? 

You remain in disquiet now, your arms wrapping around yourself for support. You can hear it now -  If you wanted someone to pat your ass, should have called damn Deku or Kirishima. I’m not a goddamn booty call. You lost your chance with me ages ago. Don’t fucking call me again.

Instead, he takes the can of beer you’ve set beside you and takes a sip first, then downs it as you watch. Just as soon as he’s done, he crushes the can and throws it into the nearest recycling bin. 

He doesn't miss.

“You’re not an alcoholic. No use pretending to drown your sorrows,” he says. “Either talk about them or don’t. I’m already up anyway.”

It’s not meant to be a joke or a jab, just a statement. 

You’re surprised for a moment but an unwitting smile comes to your lips.

“Are you sure you want to hear me complain in the middle of the night? I have a lot to say.”

Katsuki gives you a look, a raised eyebrow reminding you not to ask any more silly questions, and it almost makes you laugh.

As if you intend to be considerate now of all times.

“Well, it all began with the day I was born…”

He lets out the softest of groans and lets his head hang back in a dramatic fashion, arms still crossed over his chest, and legs spread. This time your laugh is loud.

It’s unfair and unreasonable that he still makes you laugh without trying.

And yet he does anyway, and he listens to you speak until the sun comes up.

[zipper-neck]

Trans Rules of Engagement

By Florence Ashley

Strong communities make us all safer. As anti-trans movements gain in power and influence, holding space for each other through our flaws remains critical. Yet the very conditions that create our need for community care make it hard for us to care for each other. We are raw, wounded, traumatized, and hypervigilant. We make mistakes brought on by fear and hurt. We lash out at each other when we do wrong, often partaking in pile-ons facilitated by the synchronous nature of online interactions. Whether we realize it or not, we often exclude trans people from community when they need it most.

I have lost count of the number of trans people I have seen cast out of online trans spaces for misdeeds both major and minor—far too often with my help. I sometimes find myself wondering where they are now and whether they are still alive. Because, as Kai Cheng Thom has taught us, social death often means real death for trans people. Trans communities are life-sustaining in a world that hates us so, so much. In a world that wants us dead. We have lost too many people not to stop and think about how we can foster life among each other.

This goal I have for myself—that of fostering life—motivates the following principles and rules for engaging in online intra-community conflicts while preserving the life-sustaining spirit of our communities. Countless times have I failed to heed these principles and ignored these rules. This failure, which many of us share, is precisely why I now want to lay these principles and rules down on paper. If only as a reminder of my aspirations. The principles and rules are meant to be adopted for oneself, not imposed onto others. Their purpose is to foster productive engagement, not create even more conflict and rigidity. I hope that this will be a living document, and invite you to make your own version if you would like. Borrow what is useful, supplement with what is needed, alter what can be improved.

Some, and perhaps all, of the principles I acknowledge are false, hence the need for a living document. Each of my suggested rules have exceptions. In setting them out, I am staking a claim as to the sort of myths and half-truths that are necessary to sustain life in a world that wants us dead. We must treat them as true if we wish to foster life-sustaining communities and survive the hellscape we belabor.

Principles

1. We are all flawed, traumatized humans at the end of their rope. Many of our actions say more about the conditions we live under than who we are as people.

2. No one is disposable. No one is unsalvageable.

3. Life holds greater value than being right or comfortable. Hurt is preferable to death.

4. No one should be deprived of community.

5. Harm does not require further harm. Punishment does not equate protection or healing.

Rules

1. Do not depart from these rules, unless you have to.

2. Morgan M. Page’s Rule: Try to avoid criticizing other trans people in public. The world does it enough already.

3. Favor in person or private conversations: Addressing someone’s comments or actions in person or privately is typically more constructive and effective. It allows you to communicate more cogently and with more nuance problems in someone’s actions or words and because it is less likely to make them react defensively from a place of trauma or fear.

4. Take your time: Few things require an immediate response. Responding while caught in a surge of thoughts and feelings is often unproductive. Ask yourself how much harm was done, versus how much we are reminded of an earlier harm. Ask whether your response is rooted in misperception or potential biases towards the person due to race, disability, gender, or other marginalized identities. Consider whether their words or actions reflect a different kind of thinking or communication style, a lack of access to education, or limited access to progressive communities and norms. You can respond tomorrow, once you have collected your thoughts, talked to others, and gained perspective.

5. Don’t mob: Be aware of group dynamics. Ask yourself if you are connected to this person and in community with them. Avoid jumping into the fray when others are already criticizing the person. Do not invite others to join in and mob them. Withdraw if others join in, and kindly ask people to stay conscious of mobbing dynamics. Mobbing rapidly grows out of proportion.

6. De-escalate: Focus on de-escalating conflicts. Ask what people mean or want, and why. Ask them for clarification or elaboration if needed. Ask yourself if you know enough about the context of the situation. Distinguish the action from the person, and acknowledge that it is normal to respond defensively or aggressively to public criticism and mobbing. People are traumatized, mentally ill, and are scared of losing the little social support they have. As a result, conflict can trigger a fight-or-flight response in both those who are criticized and who criticize, which leads to escalating conflict and ends in a loss of community. Dropping the conversation to return at a later date is preferable to escalation. Often, I find it best to limit myself to three replies in conversations that aren’t constructive.

7. Respond proportionately: Responses to words and behaviours should be proportionate to their harm, and reflect a need for healing and protection rather than punishment. When we speak from a place of hurt, we can understandably but unfortunately forget the measure and impact of our response. Use language that reflects the nuances and gradations of harm rather than a coarse good and evil binary. Cutting all social support and community banishment are rarely a proportionate response, even for someone who doubles down and does not apologize. Responding proportionately is asking first and foremost what response sustains rather than dissolves life. Especially when it comes to words, it is better to under-react than to over-react.

8. Ensure support for everyone: Check in on those who are criticized and those who criticize them. Remind people that we are all in this together, and that banishment is not how we work as a community. Everyone deserves to have their needs met. Do not shun or reproach people who offer support to those who were criticized or called out. Distinguish supporting a person from enabling their behavior.

9. Hold space for people to grow: Allow space for people to be accountable, change, and move on from previous conflicts. Do not hold past behavior over people’s head, nor dig up past misdeeds to fuel present conflicts.

10. Resolve conflict and harm as a community: We must ask how our communities enable and cause hurt and harm, and find ways to transform the conditions that create them. Holding accountable, problem-solving, and conflict resolution are functions that should be taken up by the collective, not isolated and unsupported individuals.

11. Center those most hurt or harmed: Focus on supporting and empowering people who are hurt and harmed rather than on punishment. Ask what they need to be safe and integrated in our communities, while committing to support for everyone; what they need to repair their relationship to the person who hurt or harmed them. Focus your involvement on bringing people together, fostering dialogue and mutual understanding, and restoring a sense of community togetherness, rather than deciding who is right or wrong.♦

[tpwk-formula1]

haii could i please order a pizza with sicillian crust with red sauce, and jalapenos, chicken, and tomatoes and my drinks are mtn dew(dom), beer and diet coke. Served by Max Verstappen please!!

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicillian crust dating red sauce rough sex jalapenos "always such a fucking brat" chicken "awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" tomatoes "do you enjoy pissing me off?" mt dew dom (reader) beer edging diet cock recording kink served by Max Verstappen

Max Verstappen x Dom reader

AN: I am so pleased with how busy the Pizzeria has been! I work at night today so I'm gonna get a couple fics more pizzas done before I have to go in.

TW - edging, sub max, dom reader, begging, unprotected sex, filming, taunting

WC 2100+

Y/N POV

I've been watching Max from the other side of the bar for the past 15 minutes while he talks to Checo about something having forgotten about the drink he was supposed to be getting me.

Another 5 minutes pass before Max is finally waving the bartender down to orders drinks and another 3 minutes before I watch Max approaching with his puppy smile trying to sweeten me up once he saw the cold stare I was giving him.

"Max it's been almost half an hour since you told me 'I'll be right back just gonna get your drink' right back my ass" I saw while rolling my eyes and talking the drink he was offering me.

"M'sorry, Checo was talking about the car," Max tells me sheepishly. I could tell he was sorry so I decided to brush it off and pull him to my side before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"It's fine, just stay on task next time," I tell him softly whispering into his ear.

I don't know how or when it happened but there had been a shift in max and I's relationship. At one point in time, Max was a young curious boy doing any and everything he could to dominate me and 'keep me in check' but as the years progressed there was a switch and he was no longer the one wearing the pants in the relationship. Most people just assumed Max was whipped but the very few who actually knew about the dynamic just understood it. To them it all made sense, on track, Max was a dominant force that instilled fear in his fellow drivers but off the track, he just needed an outlet to be taken care of.

"I promise," Max whispers before placing a kiss on my lips.

"Love you," he says when he pulls back. "Love you too"

As the night progressed Max had done really well about doing what he's asked but then Lando showed up and I knew instantly I was gonna lose him in the crowd.

I trust Max and I have no issues with him going off but being left at a table by myself surrounded by people I had never met was making me grow more anxious than I would like to admit.

It was about an hour later when I finally saw Max approaching the table with a dopey smile across his face letting me know he had definitely had another drink or two.

"Hi baby," Max says while plopping down right next to me not picking up on the annoyance radiating off of me.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" I ask back watching as the smile on Max's face instantly falls.

"Wha- huh? Wait, what did I do?" Max stutters, struggling to try and figure out what to say.

"You just disappeared for over an hour. You left me alone at this dan table and you didn't even tell me where the fuck you went or ask if I wanted to join," I tell him back piching his thigh slightly under the table.

"M'sorry. I promise I've been trying to be good. Don't wanna make you mad, schat" Max mumbles clearly feeling the shame of the verbal lashing he was gonna get later when we got back to the apartment.

"You're gonna be in tears tonight," I reply back straight faced not cracking a normal smile.

"Please just one more chance," Max begs knowing I meant every word.

"I gave you a chance with Checo. I don't understand how you hanging out with Lando somehow always results in you getting punished. Maybe we should send him a video of you tonight to let me know he's a terrible influence," I tell him while looking into his eyes before placing a soft kiss on his cheek to throw him off.

"You wouldn't" Max says with wide eyes of the threat of sending a sex tape. I just shrug my shoulders playing along with the bit.

"I don't know, I think he would love to know that the man he's fighting to get the World Driver Championship is just a needy whiney little bitch," I reply back making Max whine.

"You're a meanie," Max mumbles.

"And you're a brat. Don't we make a perfect pair," I saw with a smile on my face.

When we finally get back to the apartment for the night Max was pretty much sober knowing I would wait until morning if he wasn't sober. He chose take his punishment now versus the morning when he would be nursing a hangover.

"Go into our room, make sure the cats are out of the room, then strip down and be laying on you back in the bed. I'll be there in 5 minutes," I say the second the door is closed.

Max makes quick work of disappearing into our room where I assume he listened to every word I said.

In the 5 minutes, I stripped down into the lingerie set I had chosen to wear under my outfit before making my way down the hallway where I find Sassy sitting by the door staring up at me curiously. I give her a quick pet before slipping into the room to find Max exactly how I told him to be. I look around the room and found a neatly stack of clothes letting me know that Max had folded them up instead of throwing them arounf our room.

"I see you remember some of our rules," I saw while staring at the clothes so Max understood what I was referencing.

When I start climbing into the bed with Max I can see him tensing slightly in anticipation.

"You know how embarrassing it was tonight?" I said before spitting onto Max's cock and starting to jerk him off making him instantly grow hard under my hand.

"I was sat there all alone for over an hour. I looked dumb as fuck. I'm sure the Monaco gossip is gonna eat that up "Max Verstappen disappears leaving his long-time girlfriend alone at the table' You know how media is, they're gonna make it seem like there's trouble in paradise. When in reality it's just little Maxie being a brat. Oh! I almost forgot," I stop my teasing to grab my phone which I brought with me into the room.

"Say hi to Lando," I say while pointing the camera at Max's face. He's giving the camera such a pained yet slutty look it makes me laugh at his desperation. I wait a couple seconds before my voice booms through the room, "I said, Say hi to Lando." While verbally reprimanding Max I send a quick slap to his inner thigh close to his dick before pinching the same spot making Max squirm a bit.

"Hi, Lando," Max mumbles barely audible.

"Try that again. I hear the way you yell at your engineer. Such a disrespectful boy," I tell him with a raised brow.

"Hi, Lando" Max finally says in a loud enough voice to be heard.

"Good boy," I tell him while moving my unoccupied hand back to his dick making sure I have the perfect angle to get Max and his already wet with precum ccok.

"So needy. You're already dripping for me," I say with a smirk on my face.

"So good, schat" Max whines making me speed up slightly just to watch Max's breath hitch.

"I love it when you get like that," I mumble while squeezing Max's cock a bit harder.

"M'close," Max mumbled making me speed up just slightly before pulling my hand away and watching Max's eyes roll into the back of his head and tremble slightly from his pleasure being ripped away in a matter of seconds.

"No," Max whines dragging out the O sounding so desperate.

"Awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy?" I tease while starting to jerk Max off again while zooming the camera in on Max's cock dripping with precum.

"Schat, please," Max says already starting to beg.

"Oh come on, you can handle more than one," I tell him while leaning down and kicking softly at his tip collecting a bit of his precum.

I shuffle down the bed slightly to start pulling Max into my mouth and down my throat taking all of Max's length into my mouth making sure to bob my head slightly before bringing Max to the edge all over again.

I could tell when he was getting close again because his thighs started tensing under my hands making me rip away from Max's cock to watch him thrash around while bucking his hips to try and gain some kind of friction.

"Fuck no," Max whines staring straight at that the camera that I angled perfectly on his face.

"I love watching you get progressively more needy," I say with a smirk while gripping onto his cock and giving it a rough couple jerks before pulling Max into my mouth again.

I didn't give Max much time to calm down so he was on the edge rather quickly.

"Please, I'm gonna cum," Max says making me bod my head a bit faster before pulling away and watching Max try and chase his orgasm on his own by moving his hand to go and finish himself off but I quickly get a grip on his wrist and giving Max a look that says knock it off.

"No more," Max whines making me smirk slightly.

"Can you give me one more?" I question with a raised brow making Max whine but slowly start to nod his head.

"Yes, I can give one more," Max mumbles softly making me smile softly.

I started jerking off his cock softly making sure I'm filming everything again. I loved it when Max got like. The noises, his hips bucking, and the pure desperation in his eyes always seemed to turn me on.

I could tell Max was getting close but I wanted to push him farther than previous so I continue my movements till the second I know Max will cum I rip my hand away and watch as Max lets out a roar of desperation while jerking his body around not being able to gain any friction as I moved away slightly.

"Please, I need it. I can't do it anymore. I need to cum baby, please," Max begs making me smile softly.

"I'm gonna let you cum in a minute," I tell Max softly while rubbing his thigh in a soothing manner making Max whimper at the touch.

I turned the video off and tossed my phone away from us. I was still sitting in my lingerie set which is completely soaked through both from just witnessing Max get to the point of begging and also because I had snuck a couple fingers into my folds and teased my clit while giving Max head.

I stand from the bed softly and strip down completely before climbing back into the bed and climbing on top of Max before instantly sinking all the way down on Max.

"Oh fuck," I moan when I feel Max stretch my tight walls. I knew neither of us would last very long but looking at Max's face he was completely blissed out.

"So good," Max mumbled making his accent come out a bit thicker.

"So big baby," I moan while softly grinding my hips to gain some friction but not enough stimulation to bring Max or I to an orgasm.

"More, please" Max begs and I give him exactly what he wants because I start bouncing my hips slightly making both Max and I moan at the pleasure coursing through our bodies.

It doesn't take me long for the knot in my stomach to grow alerting me of the incoming orgasm. I look at Max's face and can tell he's trying to hold his orgasm off until I was cumming.

"Cum for me baby," I whisper out bouncing harder on Max's cock throwing me off the edge and into a violent orgasm.

The way Max's hips were erratically thrusting and the feeling of him filling me up sent me over the edge into a shaking orgasm. I'm shaking on Max's cock trying to ride both of our orgasms out.

"So good baby," I whine softly still feeling the aftershocks of the intense orgasm I just had.

"Thank you," Max says softly through staggered breath still trying to catch his breath again.

"You did good for me," I tell Max softly while pulling off his cock and laying down on his chest.

"You're not gonna send that to Lando right," Max mumbles softly making me chuckle a little and shake my head no.

"You know I would never, but I did love watching you get desperate on camera. Might start having to do that more often," I tell him softly looking up to watch his face. I could see the conflict in his eyes but he still nodded his head letting me know it was something he would be willing to do again.

[techramonic]

A Comprehensive Analysis on Eric Harris, 3.

Disclaimer: This analysis/psychoanalysis is limited only to analysis as a means to reflect and understand the people involved. It is strictly informative. Just like all of my posts, I am detached from the media I write about and solely focus on the people to understand their psychology, for others to gain insight. There is no room for me to romanticize or glorify anything I write because I am only here to explain. I understand and research, but I do not condone. Thank you.

note: This is all solely based on independent research. If I may be wrong with the medical aspects of this post, please correct me. I would appreciate it a lot.

Fluvoxamine Maleate

Just a few days before the shooting, Eric was promptly rejected from his application to serve in the marines. Despite his desirable qualities, he was rejected for the sole reason of being tested positive for consuming a prescripted drug after rejecting that he was off any medication. With a trace of Luvox in his system, theories speculate that the drug's side effects played a role on the events that have transpired. Luvox is a medication prescription drug that is used to treat mental illnesses such as Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD), anxiety, depression, and others. While there are positive effects, the downside are heightened sensations of dread, irritation, depression, and arising violent behaviors. It also has a chance to increase manic symptoms, especially if taken in particularly large doses.

Anti-depressant usage, effects of overdose, and detoxification

When taken over the prescribed dosage, Luvox can lead to increased agression and suicidal ideation and tendencies. Eric was in anger management therapy after being on probation alongside Dylan for attempting to steal a vehicle containing thousands worth of valuable electronics and tools. After getting caught, Eric openly expressed his difficulties in managing his anxiety and explosive anger issues that his counselor said, "he frequently blew up and often cried." Revealing that this influences his homicidal and suicidal thoughts, so he was prescribed Fluvoxamine, which is a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRIs). These drugs increase the capacity of the brain to receive serotonin.

According to an interview with Eric's friends, they speculate that Eric was off his medication completely for sometime. Abruptly stopping medication can lead to the development of a more violent response. For some people, drugs are able to fix their chemical imbalances, but it can also lead to withdrawal symptoms of taken for over the duration of 6 weeks. Abruptly discontinuing anti-depressants can lead ro rebound depression or relapse. Symptoms may return stronger than before. Furthermore, SSRI's such as Luvox and Prozac take about 5 days to linger in one's system before subsequently washing off.

In a period of 11 months, Eric and Dylan have been under a juvenile detention program at Jefferson County district — this was in 1998, just a year before the shooting. They were allowed to leave the program by early February 1999. After finishing, Eric wrote a letter contained in his juvenile diversion program file. He states, "I learned that thousands of suggestions are worthless if you still believe in violence."

After public demands for stricter regulations on SSRIs after the tragic shooting, Luvox was temporarily banned in 2002. By 2008, drug manufacturers had reformulated Luvox to a controlled-release version specifically designed to treat OCD, excluding indications for depression or anxiety. Subsequently, the FDA approved Luvox CR for the treatment of OCD. The label does not explicitly prohibit prescribing it to the pediatric population, it notes that the smallest dose "may not be appropriate" for children, without providing further explanation.

Eric was about 17 at the time of taking the medication, which means he is part of the pediatric population. Though it's still unclear if he was taking normal doses for a long period of time or taken more than what was prescribed, it is clear that there was negligence with prescribing a child a SSRI that has the posibility of worsening their already apparent symptoms.

Columbine was really a case that opened the public's eyes into the dysfunctional aspects of society and institutions, transcending even to the medical field.

[deadbaguette]

Day 2: High Fantasy ft. Sorcerer!Odysseus and Witch!Penelope with some AU ramblings

(Everything for this month will be very quick and not rendered most likely! So please take my doodles <3 )

High Fantasy AU:

I LOVE HIGH FANTASY! But I am too uncreative to actually give this the love and lore it deserves 😭 But I will do my best to give the details I have thought about:

The gods are still gods in this AU! But I would love them to look a lot more eldritch and don’t take human forms very often. As a result they get mixed up in a lot of the folklore of their respective regions of influence

Sometimes the gods will take on apprentices of sorts, and depending on what type of god they are, they will teach them the ways of their craft. Often times thought this is through magic or fighting/weaponry

Odysseus in this AU was picked up by Athena hence why he is a sorcerer. He did not inherently know magic, but was taught it by Athena. Sorcerers are quite rare since magic is a sort of gatekept art form, and it’s not common for non-witches to know magic

Diomedes is also in this AU because I can’t not have him.. He’s also under the apprenticeship of Athena but he’s a knight. He’s not currently serving under any royalty, and instead has just taken to travelling around with Odysseus wherever he goes. Athena is a master with weapons and Diomedes is as a result really REALLY fucking strong. If Odysseus’ spells don’t work, Diomedes will brute force it

Penelope is a witch! Her mother was a sea witch, so her medium of magic is often channeled through water. I don’t know if anyone knows Witch Hat Atelier but you can think of her magic as similar looking to Qifrey’s!

Folktales are SUPER important to this AU! Despite it being high fantasy, I do like the thought of a lot of creatures being in obscurity. If you’re not 90% human looking, the likely hood of you being part of the active civilisation is small. Things like merfolk, dragons, etc are all part of tales im the area believed to be extinct or not real. They ofc are, but live much deeper in the thick of a magical place otherwise more difficult to reach. The gods have created these creatures/are in contact with these creatures which often leads to their connections in folktales as previously mentioned

I would normally rapid fire some characters and their roles but that would in case only to actually make me think about lore to back it up so I cannot this time HAGSGHSG.. might come back with some concept art tho

Prompt list below the cut!

[starmocha]

Bride of the Dragon King :: Prelude

Sylus/Reader | 465 words | Masterlist | AO3 Tonight, the wine tasted so sweet. A/N: I yapped on my tumblr about how I wanted a dragon!Sylus AU…so I willed it into existence. 😊 This is the prelude to a technically 3-part story. The main story will be a 20K+ word one-shot, so I feel justified in a shorter intro. I am still finalizing the main story, so I want to give people time to read the prelude first. While the prelude is SFW, the main story and epilogue will contain explicit adult themes, so it's best for MDNI. Influenced to varying degree by the Vietnamese origin myth, Lạc Long Quân and Âu Cơ, and the C-drama, Miss the Dragon…and probably a whole slew of other period C-dramas I watched in the past. Recommended Playlist Love and Deepspace - Wander In Wonder Shuang Sheng - 流转莹回 ☆ I can do a tag list for the main story once it's up. Just let me know in the replies, and I'll keep a list handy. ☆

Distantly, in the Celestial Realm where the immortals resided, the vast kingdom of the Dragon King was shrouded in nighttime for all of eternity, stuck within an eternal spring. Pink petals from the ever-blooming flowers of the magnolia trees were carried away in the warm breeze across the palace courtyard.

Sylus, the Dragon King, lazed under a grand magnolia tree with red blossoms overlooking a large koi pond, his solemn gaze lingering on the reflection of the full moon in the still water. He poured wine from a crimson porcelain bottle into the matching cup, and he took a swig of his drink, sighing.

The moon is lovely tonight… he thought, The wine tastes so sweet…

Red magnolia blossoms drifted down from the tree, landing in the water and startling the fish beneath, the immediate ripples distorted the reflection of the moon. Sylus kept his own crimson eyes on the floating flowers.

Little Snake, this is not much, but you are welcome to stay with me for as long as you would like!

He huffed in amusement, eyes drifting to a different flower.

You are so shameless. How can you ask a maiden to bathe with you?

He poured another drink, chuckling, but there was little joy in his laughter.

You are not allowed to get hurt! …Promise me you won’t get hurt again...

His cup lingered at his lips momentarily, a look of guilt flashed across his features before he tossed the drink back, sighing heavily.

Sylus…I don’t want you to leave…

He leaned back against the tree, eyes wandering to the moon. On the ground next to him was a necklace, its pendant pure gold with a jade border. Engraved on one side was the image of a dragon with wisps of cloud beneath it. When Sylus picked it up, his fingers caressed the other side, tracing the characters that formed the word, “Beloved.”

Another flower drifted into the pond, spinning slowly before it floated away.

…Who are you?

He closed his eyes, his hand tightening into a fist around the pendant as he made his decision.

He was going to rewrite their story. The red thread that tethered them together was going to unravel and lead her back to him.

All of it was going to be undone, and a new ending was going to replace all of the tragedies that were and were to be.

For her…

Heaven and Hell were going to bend to his will, he vowed.

For us…

As Sylus finished the wine, a white mist enveloped him, swirling before scattering and leaving nothing in its place beneath this red magnolia tree. In the night sky, among the millions of stars, a white dragon flew away, his scales shimmered in the moonlight before he disappeared into the horizon.

[whendeeplybored]

I just wanted to share some thoughts and have a pleasant conversation about Fire Lady Katara.

I am a zutara shipper but my idea of them is more like they get together in their 20s and have the most passionate romance and then break up because of their duties (Katara goes back to the South pole becomes chief/ Zuko stays as fire lord in the Fire Nation). Then, when old, they both step down and get back together and maybe brew some tea at iroh's old tea shop in Ba Sing Se until they die at the same time peacefully or something like this. So, obviously, Fire Lady Katara isn't my favourite trope, but I am not necessarily against it. It's cute.

Still, I always see people being so violently against that trope and even going as far as calling it racist and reductive and I didn't really get where they got these ideas from until I saw the reasonings.

The main one is "the fire nation killed her people". And, fair enough, I see where people are coming from with that but, at the same time, this is very surface level criticism and above all she would never be the Fire Lady to that Fire Nation but to a reformed one anyway. Zuko worked hard his entire life to decolonise and right the wrongs of the Fire Nation. History should never be forgotten, of course, but it also should not shape how one feels about a place forever. Places, countries, are always changing, developing and evolving. People having their mindset on Fire Nation = wrong is just .... A flawed way of understanding the show/ season 3 imo. Especially when the fire nation changed drastically under Zuko's reign. So Katara would never have to be the queen of a racist and genocidal regime because the fn left all that behind. She would be the fl of a fire nation working on moving past that and improving themselves. And the main perpetrator of all the reforms pushing these changes forward would be her husband. Therefore I genuinely can't see how this came to mind to some people it's not like she's marrying ozai during the war.

I've also seen people say that it is not a real role and Katara would end up with no political influence and just being a pretty girl in Zuko's arms and to this I have to say...Do you understand Katara as a character ? She could be a cabbage marchant and start a revolution in two days! I mean even if the court wanted her to shut up and be Zuko's pretty doll.. she never would !? And nobody would be able to stop her!!! She would probably invite herself to meetings, have Zuko vouch for her anytime she spoke and have the time of her life insulting old men, debating with them and countering their stupid ideas with the tact she always had. She actually would be perfect at this and probably would be promoted to Fire Lord within two weeks of being Fire Lady let's be real.

I hope this made sense haha. If you see this tell me what you think! Let's have a civilised conversation.

[hyunjilicious]

[bf!felix x reader]

Summary: a chill evening on the couch turns into you and Felix exploring a new kink because tiktok is never a good influence. (SMUT-ish) 2.3k Warnings: SPIT KINK (tons of it, it's the main thing, so if you're not into that, don't read this), mentions of oral (m receiving) and other minor things like hair pulling or like Felix sucking your fingers. There's no actual smut in this, just two idiots who take turns spitting in each others mouths, I'm sorry, I have no shame. 18+ PLS!!!

A soft grunt escaped your lips as you shifted around in place for what was probably the 5th time in the last 3 minutes. Your back was sore and you could barely feel your left foot, as it was already 6pm and all you did throughout the day was lay with Felix on the couch, talking and watching movies. Right now however, the room was silent as you both scrolled on your phones, the only forms of interaction between the two of you being the obscene number of kisses Felix would plant on your forehead every other minute, the way he played with the sleeve of your shirt, that one time you bit his chest just because you could and obviously, the tiktoks you decided to show one another.

Your feed had been fairly entertaining yet nothing out of the ordinary, until one specific video earned a reaction from you, in the form of a disgusted gagging sound. 

Felix didn't bother to speak up or ask what it was that you just watched, instead he just removed one of your earbuds and put it in his own ear as you angled the phone so that he could also see the video.

"I don't get it" he looked at you.

"It's gross"

"Is it?" he softly asked, looking at you as if he was too shy to tell you he took it as a personal offense.

"Yes? Of course? Who in their right mind asks someone else to spit in their mouth?"

He didn't answer and silence settled again. Due to the way you were completely pressed into his side, you couldn't see his face, so as one too many seconds passed where he failed to answer, you couldn't help but push yourself up onto your elbows to face him. "Felix?"

"You wouldn't ask me to do it?"

"No!?" you responded, offended.

"Not even if you knew I was into it and wanted to do it with you?"

His question made you stop. This wasn't hypothetical anymore. Now it wasn't just a random thing from the internet that you were chatting about; now it was about Felix, and something he personally wanted to do. With you. You swallowed thickly, the way your view on the topic shifted completely in under one minute making you question your morals. 

"I- I don't-" you mumbled, eyes cast somewhere over his shoulder, at the bookcase behind him. "It's not the same thing"

"How come?" he sweetly asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. If you didn't know any better, you'd have thought he played you. But he was just honest with you and you were just that in love with him. 

"Lix, don't do this to me!" you whined and pushed yourself up into a sitting position. 

He followed you. "Do what? Baby, I'm not trying to-"

"No, you're not trying to anything, but now I kinda wanna try it and it's gross. Are you happy?" you dramatically exclaimed, making him giggle. 

"Happy with what? Princess, what did I do?"

"You looked at me with those eyes and now I want you to-" you pointed to your phone, "do that to me"

That made him grin, "You want me to spit in your mouth, baby?"

Fuck, you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. And the worst part of it all was the way your core reacted, making your thighs involuntarily rub against one another. "...maybe"

"I can do that if you want to" he softly said and placed a hand on your cheek as he leaned in to peck your lips. "I'd love to do it, actually. But only if you're sure"

"I am sure" he hurriedly answered, voice shaky and not at all as confident as you had hoped. It made him smile, it had been quite a while since he'd seen you this flustered and he had absolutely no idea how badly he missed it.

"It's ok" he reassured you and closed the distance between the two of you with a gentle kiss. His plush lips enveloped yours and your heart rate slowed down on the spot, you melted in his arms - your safe place; your anxieties dissipating by the second. Lips still locked, Felix helped you crawl into his lap, his hands remaining on your hips as the kiss consumed itself in the most intoxicating way possible. 

When you pulled away, you had to take a deep breath to calm your dizzy mind, and when you looked back at him - at his lazy and hungry, yet warm and understanding eyes, the words just flew out of your mouth. "Felix, please?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!"

"Ok then" Felix smiled. 

He straightened his back and grabbed your chin, pecked your lips one more time and then gently tilted your head back. "Open your mouth for me, sweetheart"

With your heart again beating out of your chest, you followed his command - opened your mouth wide and fixed your stare on his.

"That's right, doll. Stay like that for me for a second, baby. So beautiful"

All you could do was blink and bring your hands up to the sides of his neck for support - mental support, because with your knees on either side of his lap, there was physically no way for you to alleviate the growing pain between your legs. 

"Push your tongue out for me" he instructed further, and nodded in approval when you did as told. "So good for me, my pretty baby."

The anticipation was killing you, and you nearly moaned out loud when Felix titled your head back even further - so that he was now fully towering above you. 

For a split second, your stare traveled down to his lips and the instant you saw them part, you looked back up into his eyes.

"Are you ready, sweetheart?"

You nodded, eagerly this time, your head bopping against his hand - gesture which made him smile. But he fought against it, repressed the grin, and closed the distance between your bodies before shamelessly spitting directly onto your awaiting tongue. 

Shivers ran through your whole body and you remained there for a second, frozen, until he used his thumb on your chin to slowly close your mouth. "You can swallow for me, baby"

And the second you did, another wave of shame washed over your body, making the pressure between your legs even more intolerable than before. You then licked your lips and shook yourself, your head instantly dropping, your stare fixed between your bodies.

"Hey, hey, don't do that-" Felix cooed, and gently got you to face him again, "Please don't hide from me, angel, ok?"

"Ok" you mumbled and pushed yourself closer to him. Even though you were already basically pressed flush against him, Felix still wrapped his arms around your waist to help you settle closer. 

"How was it? Did you like it?"

"Yes" you cringed. "I did"

"Good, my baby" he pecked your lips ever so softly, "You were so good for me. I liked it too, a lot" 

Despite your interaction with him being the cause of your embarrassment, his mere presence was also the only thing that could ease your mood. So, as a shy giggle left your lips, you hid your face into his shoulder. "Weird…"

"What's on your mind, hm?" Felix questioned, "I can hear the wheels turning"

"Um…" you laughed but failed to give him an answer. He, however, didn't need one. He knew already.

"Y/n?"

"Yes?" you looked up and met his warm glance.

"Yes, baby. You can do it, too. Isn't that what you wanted to ask?"

"Was it that obvious?" you chuckled, resuming your position in front of him. "Am I really that easy to read?"

"Not all the time, just sometimes. What else could've gotten you like this? You were never this shy around me"

"I'm sorry"

"Stop it, don't apologize. I think it's cute, I love seeing you like this. But I want you to be comfortable, ok?"

"Talk me through it?" you shyly asked, pushing your hair back as you got into position. This made Felix throw his head back as his eyes fluttered shut. He was riled up already - this whole situation didn't only affect you, but he kept his calm and remained composed for the sole purpose of offering you safety and confidence, but there was only so much he could take.

His cock was shamelessly stretching the fabric of his sweatpants, pressing directly against your heated core. It was less than ideal for him.

Fighting against himself, Felix grabbed your hips and pushed you up, so that now you were the one towering above him. His head was leaning back against the couch, droopy eyes studying your every feature. 

"Ok, baby, ready?" he patted your ass.

You nodded.

"Come on, then. I'll do whatever you tell me" he tried to encourage you, but the way you blinked let him know very clearly you had no idea what he meant. So he continued, "Tell me to open my mouth. Tell me how you want me. Show me. You can do anything you want with me, love. I'm yours to do as you please"

"Ok, but like-"

"Y/n, it's me. There's no need to be this nervous"

"But what if I'm awkward?"

"Baby-" he took a deep breath, "Half the blood in my body is in my dick right now. You couldn't be awkward if you tried. And even if you could, I probably wouldn't even be able to tell. You know I'm wrapped around your finger, princess"

"Ok, ok" you giggled and got into position. "I can do this"

"Yes" Felix smiled proudly, "Of course you can"

You took a deep breath to gather yourself and then looked at him, "Lixie?"

"Yes, baby"

"Keep your eyes on mine, baby, ok? At all times"

He obediently nodded and licked his lips while squeezing your body closer. Everything inside of you burned as you placed your palms on his cheeks and your thumbs on his chin. He watched you closely, carefully awaiting instructions and showing absolutely no intention of stepping out of your word.

"Can you open your mouth for me, Lix? Just a little bit. A tiny bit"

He faintly nodded and parted his lips - not as much as you wished, but you worked with it, placing your pointer and middle finger on his bottom lip. "Will you suck for me?"

This time he didn't bother to nod. He had been waiting for this and wasn't about to waste any more time. One of the hands that he had until now been resting on your ass circled around your wrist, pushing your fingers deeper into his mouth. He sucked eagerly, his plump lips close to your knuckles as he watched you - pupils dilated and his face all red - he wasn't holding back. 

"So good, just like that" you whispered, caressing his bottom lip with your thumb. And for that, he only went harder, hollowed his cheeks and brushed his tongue along the pads of your fingers, sending shivers in waves up and down your spine.

Seeing him like this awoke something inside of you, and the moment he bucked his hips up into you, you knew it was time to stop. Without warning, you retracted your hand which earned you a soft, pained whimper the moment he was left with his mouth open and empty.

"More" he cried.

But you didn't listen. Instead, you brought your fingers to your lips and licked them, closing your eyes to emphasize the pleasure it gave you. "You taste so good, Felix" 

"Angel, please"

"I don't know what you want" you teased, "Tell me"

Your roles might have reversed, but unlike you, he never shied away from letting you know just how needy he was. "I need you to spit in my mouth for me, my love. Please, baby, I need it"

"You need it?"

"Yes" he whined in desperation. "Spit in my mouth like you spit on my cock before you blow me. I need to taste you, baby, please"

"Anything for you" you smiled and wrapped your fingers around the roots of his soft, blonde hair. When you yanked his head back, a moan escaped his lips but it didn't make him falter, he had no shame, he didn't care how pathetic it might look. He just craved you and thrived on the fact that you could so easily tell just how desperate he was. He loved being weak for you. 

With his head held in position, you leaned down to give him a soft, little kiss, and with your lips still pressed against his, you whispered, "Open"

He obeyed your command, while still remembering the first one. No matter how hard he was able to feel his pulse inside his balls, he kept his eyes trained on yours as you did exactly what he asked - spit in his mouth like you spit on his cock. 

"Fuck" he threw his head back as he swallowed, but his bliss was painfully interrupted when you unknowingly lowered yourself back onto his lap. "Shit, baby!" Felix hissed, "careful"

"Oh my god, sorry!" you hurried to move to the side and plop down on the couch, only to see him pull at the cotton of his sweatpants, or underwear, in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure the material was causing him. 

"So I did ok?" you questioned, blinking at him as you awaited his response.

But he could only scoff. "Ok!?" Felix laughed, "Ok!? Baby, you made me suck on your fingers"

"You didn't want to?"

"Angel, you blew my mind. Fuck, I need a shower-" he breathed, getting ready to stand up before you stopped him.

"What? I can do it"

"No, I'm all gross" he wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead, "But you can join me"

"I don't want to join you in the shower, Felix. I want to suck your cock here. Now"

"Jesus Christ, baby, you'll be the death of me"

[withonly-sweetheart]

Runoff

Right after your most recent breakup, you finally notice the guy that you know better than you know yourself.

a/n: for the anon who requested this one <333 hope u like my lovely!! the description doesn't do it justice but i hope i went along the same idea you were thinking <3 spellchecking and grammar died :))

tw: just fluff and best friend leon

wc: 2k

The sun warms your faces as you wander down the grassy path, a woven blanket and wicker basket in hand. Both of your timed footsteps are light, minds drifting on the breeze that carries faint haunts of fresh blooms through the air.

"The water looks beautiful," you say with a gesture toward the distant lake, its surface shimmering under the clear blue sky.

"It calls to the soul, this place." Leon replies, stopping to take in the quiet beauty surrounding you.

"It’s peaceful," you offer with a soft smile.

"Come on." He meets your eyes with a sly grin. "The perfect spot awaits."

You stroll a little further before coming to a strip of shore beneath an old willow's swaying branches. Laying out your blanket upon the grass, Leon begins unpacking your meal as you stretch out and relax, admiring the tranquility of the area.

“Much better than the neighborhood,” you comment, drawing a genuine laugh from him.

“That’s for sure. Aren’t you glad you came?” His voice, his question is uncharacteristically nervous, causing you to draw your wandering thoughts back in one place and look up at him.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just…” Leon sighs, dropping his hands into his lap, fidgeting with them. “Last time I asked, you said no.”

“And I told you I was out with my boyfriend,” you say gently. He doesn’t move. His fingers still and he slowly drags his gaze across your body, meeting your eyes as if for the first time. They look almost golden, slanted in the dying rays of the sun.

“How are you both, by the way?” he mumbles, not really sounding like he cares.

“We broke up a week ago.”

Even though you shouldn’t, you remember when your first boyfriend broke up with you in middle school, and Leon was there, rubbing your back in soothing circles and whispering consolations in your ear.

You suppose you’ve known him almost as long as you’ve known yourself. Finding yourself was something you couldn’t have done if it weren’t for his influence, pushing you away from what would’ve corrupted you and towards the angelic halo he wanted sitting on your head.

He protects you, and you protect him. That’s one part of your relationship.

"I always thought he cared for me, you know?" you say with a sigh. "I guess some things are just too good to be true."

Leon turns to face you, his dark eyes catching the fiery hues of the setting sun. "Don't say that. Any guy would be lucky to have your heart."

"Easy for you to say, Mr. Perfect," you tease, nudging his ankle with your bare toes.

"I'm far from perfect," he says softly. A soft breeze ruffles his wavy locks, and for a moment you’re captured by the play of sunlight through his hair. How had you never noticed how beautiful he looked as the sunset lit up his features?

Shaking loose from your thoughts, you quip, "Could've fooled me. While I'm wallowing in self pity you sit there as calm as ever. Isn’t that stupid?" You nudge him again, hoping to evoke a smile - but his expression remains tender.

Leon tilts his head curiously. “No. Why would you say that?”

“I guess some part of me knew that if I didn’t have him, no one else would ever love me.”

Leon picks at the blanket, coaxing strands to peel away from the tightly woven fabric. “That part’s stupid. You’ll find the one.”

“Don’t get philosophical on me,” you tease. “I need someone to jar back to reality.”

“I’m not!” He protests, flushing. He turns back to the lake, to the ripples steadily running towards us. “He didn’t… like… after prom?”

“Leon!” You nudge him with your foot, exasperated. “He’s not that bad.”

“I know,” he replies, but he doesn’t sound like he’s convinced. “Watch the food for me?”

“Why?” The corner of your lip twitches. “Are you swimming?”

“Maybe.” Leon leans back on his palms, as if only considering this idea now, even when you know he only came here with the idea of a quick dip. 

Nothing got him relaxed like floating, weightless, drifting along in dense water, consuming his thoughts as if absorbing his troubled mind, disappearing into the abyss below. You knew that from the absurd amount of times you’d seen him at the pool.

“I know you want to.” 

His neck turns a light shade of pink. “That obvious?” 

You nudge him forward. “Just go already. It’s already getting dark.”

Leon glances toward the setting sun, gauging how much time remains in the long summer dusk. Then, with a playful grin, he rises and pulls his t-shirt over his head in one smooth motion. 

You watch, fascinated, as lithe muscles shift beneath golden skin. His shirt lands in a warm heap next to you as he stretches his arms upward, arching his back like a cat awakening. Shadows accentuate his slender form while soft rays limn each contour, making poetry of lean lines that tell of wiry strength.   

Gazing out over the waiting water, Leon takes a deep breath of anticipation. You see the subtle relaxation steal through taut limbs and tense shoulders. Then he turns, catching you looking, and laughter glints in rapt eyes before he shifts his stance back to the lake.

You settle back on your palms to watch Leon glide into the waiting water. His form cuts smoothly through the glassy surface, barely a disturbance in his wake. 

Under the fading rose glow of sunset, Leon's pale skin takes on a luminous sheen you never quite noticed before. Ripples kiss the shore as he submerges fully, rolling beneath the water, only to emerge seconds later, shaking droplets from his disheveled hair. 

You trace each bead's downward path, longing to feel their chill evaporate under searing fingers. But you stay put, watching from afar as Leon floats languidly, gazing up at the colors fading fast across the sky.

A sigh escapes you, matching the gentle swaying of reeds along the bank. You envy the placid waters bearing him, lapping coolness across his skin and easing all tensions. To have someone sink into such a soothing embrace - but your place is here, drinking in the poetry of his fluid motions beneath the dying glow of dusk.

<><><><>

“You’re not getting in my car dripping like that,” you deadpan. Leon kicks the gravel of the parking lot, outlined by the fierce sun, looking just like a guilty little boy.

“I didn’t bring a towel,” he mumbles. “Just this once?”

“I just- no!” 

“Then how do I get home?” he asks softly. 

You watch his eyes, blinking down at you, guilt steadily spreading across your expression as you switch your gaze between the boy standing in front of you and your car. 

Equally steady is the childlike grin that Leon sports while he soaks  the poor, newly refurbished passenger seat. You manage to at least throw down your picnic blanket before he sits back down, eyes narrowed at you. 

“Either this or I stuff you in my trunk,” you reply smugly. 

“No, no, it’s not that…” he says, trailing off. He shakes his head and twists to look out the window, holding his face in the middle of his palm. His shoulders are drawn back, as if protecting something.

After a few minutes of silence, you ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“That won’t work on me.”

A quiet huff. “It’s nothing.”

You pull up in your driveway but you don’t move to unlock the car. Leon's fingers freeze on the handle, terror flashing across his face. In an instant, you see all the emotions he'd kept bottled inside leak out like spilled ink. 

Your questioning gaze pins him as surely as if you'd seen through flesh to the secrets of his heart beneath. For a long moment, the only sounds are crickets replacing daylight's song outside. 

Then Leon snatches his hand back as if burned, stammering, "S-sorry, I didn't mean to–the door got stuck, that's all." 

“That might be because I locked it.” You smile and cross your arms, waiting.

After several long moments, his shoulders slump in defeat. You look at Leon steadily, at his hands still resting on the locked door. His panicked gaze darts everywhere but at you.

"Leon," you say softly. "Talk to me. Why did you grab the handle like that?" 

He swallowed hard, fingers twisting together in his lap. When he speaks, his voice is barely a murmur, like a preschooler admitting something wrong he did. "I just… wanted to get out, I guess."

You tilt your head, waiting for more. But you don’t expect a tear to slip from his eyes as he takes a wavering breath.

"Please don't make me say it," he whispers. More confused than intrigued, you rest a hand on his trembling arm, trying to ease his discomfort. When he flinches, you recoil, tilting your head as a sign for him to continue.

If it were anyone else, they would’ve missed the growing expectation spread plainly on your face. And it’s for that reason that Leon doesn’t persist. He knows there’s no use. He had to get to this point at some point.

He collapses against the seat, face crumpling. "I'm sorry, I-I have feelings for you, okay? I've tried so hard not to but I can't help it. And now you'll hate me and I've ruined everything-"

Gently, you lay a hand on his knee. "Leon. Look at me." 

Reluctantly he meets your gaze, eyes brimming with unshed tears. You give him a reassuring smile. "You don’t have to be nervous with me. You needed that, didn’t you?"

Leon shakes his head vigorously, tears escaping down his cheeks. "No, y-you don't understand. You were with him, you...you loved him." 

His voice breaks on the last word. You take his face gently between your hands, gazing intently into his watery eyes. 

"Leon, listen to me. We weren’t real. Nothing between us was real, hm?” He tries to look away but you hold him fast. "Why do you think we broke up, huh?” Your voice sounds dry with amusement but you can’t seem to make it sound any other way right now. “Because every time I was with him, all I could think about was you. Your smile, your laugh, how you make me feel."

Leon lets out a soft sob, pressing his eyes closed, spindly, dew-dropped eyelashes brushing against his raised cheekbones. You press your forehead to his, wiping away a falling tear with your thumb, feeling like you’ll never need anything else. Just him.

"It's always been you, dumbass. I'm in love with you." 

Before he can protest further, you kiss him intensely, and under your lips, you feel him melt, molding into your hands. Gently, you caress his cheek again, your thumb gliding soft as a veil of rain across his trembling lips. 

His eyes flicker shut at the ghost of your fingertips on his skin. Beneath your hands' worshipful mapping, Leon's trembling fades, body loosening like the reeds sinking into the peace of the lake. 

His lips, yet tingling from your kiss's imprint, curl softly at their edges - the whisper of a private smile meant for you alone. He pulls away from you, sniffling, running a hand under his nose, chuckling softly. 

“So…” Leon’s fingers lace with yours, breathing life back into the twilight air. “Guess we’re finally figuring things out, huh?”

“Took us long enough.” You brush your hair back behind your ear, eyes glinting mischievously up at him. “Who would’ve thought all it’d take was trapping you in a car?”

Leon groans and buries his flushed face in your shoulder. “Please don’t remind me. I still look insane, don’t I?”

You tap his chin until his shy eyes meet your gaze. “You could never look anything but beautiful to me.”

“Such a charmer. No wonder I never stood a chance.” Leon’s blush deepens, crimson against the pale hues of his skin, teeth clicking together softly. He’s shivering, you realize.

“I think you’re the only one who ever stands a chance, love.” You drum his nose before grinning. “You’re cold. Come inside, I’ll get a bath started.”

And on the way inside, fingers intertwined with his, you make a promise to yourself.

Never let him go.

[redjademilktea]

Last night's episode of 4 Sided Dive was absolutely wonderful in terms of the amount of insight and perspective we got. Not only the Crown Keepers interlude, but also for campaign 3's themes as a whole.

Specifically what fascinated me though, was the incredible analogy Aimee drew between the Ruidian culture and colonial influence on indigenous/colonized spaces in real life (around the 1h32m mark for reference). It was amazing question to ask and I'll love Aimee endlessly for it because it touches on am interesting parallel between the discourse surrounding the Exandiran gods and what they thematically can represent to us as an audience.

Before I dive into my thoughts, I want to preface this by saying this is my specific perspective as a queer woman of color and daughter of a refugee. While my year-5-in-a-PhD-program brain may just be over analyzing this too much, what Aimee brought up just deeply resonated with me in a way that I don't really see talked about in discussions around the themes of campaign 3. Additionally, the ideas I'll be talking about borrow heavily from Christine Taitano DeLisle's Placental Politics: CHamoru Women, White Womanhood, and Indigeneity under U.S. Colonialism in Guam (2023). Its an incredible piece on indigenous knowledge production and political action that importantly looks to decenter colonial perspectives and history (and more importantly recenter indigenous histories, knowledge, and perspectives in a way that allows us to dislodge the idea that colonialism is something that is immutable and inevitable.)

To quickly summarize Aimee's point/follow up question, she pointed out that the way Ruidians have engaged with, repurposed, and were resentful towards Exandrian cultures mirrors some of the real life experiences of colonized/marginalized communities in relation to colonialism. It was such a powerful comparison to make because in a lot of ways, the struggle of the Ruidian people over the course of the campaign along with the looming question about the gods and whether or not to save them is (intentional or not) deeply resonant with the idea of colonialism and the ways it is deeply ingrained in the even mundane aspects of our life.

In a lot of ways, the Exandrian pantheon can be seen as a colonial force. One that came in and displaced a preexisting order of things and entrenched itself in the new way of being it established. Ashton and Laudna have repeatedly pointed this out throughout the campaign. There was life and existence before the gods. The gods are merely a different mode of being, not the only and inevitable mode of being. Life, society, and being can and did exist without them.

And its important to recognize that aspect of the gods, because it helps us understand their motivations that much better. Aabria in her description of what Opal saw in the Spider Queen as she tried to take Opal as her champion was poignant. Opal did not see an omniscient, unknowable entity. She saw a woman. A woman who was frustrated, angry, and most importantly frightened. They keep Predathos chained away not to protect life on Exandria nor because they feel a moral obligation to do so. They are doing so because they are afraid. Their mortality is at stake. And, as Aabria keenly pointed out, their pride is as well. Every action, every move is out of self preservation. An attempt to save themselves because Predathos demonstrate that not even the gods are a permanent thing.

You'll find (as Anne Stoler writes about frequently) that colonial systems are much the same. They are vehemently intent on self preservation. Any action they undertake and any narrative they create about themselves is solely done to preserve the way things are currently. And that includes narratives that the way things are currently is somehow inevitable. That things were always coming to this moment. Often, this is done at the expense of framing other modes of being as somehow antithetical to the way things are now. That it needs to be this way. And that this way is right and forever.

To me, its important to recognize these parallels. While Ruidians may engage with, adapt, and innovate off of Exandrian ideas, culture, and art, it is only because - as Aimee aptly phrased it - Exandrian culture as a direct result of the gods actions has "sucked all the air out" everything. What is there to engage with, if not the looming orb in the sky that has shaped every aspect of their existence?

It really brings the campaign-wide question of "should we save the gods?" into new light, at least in my opinion. Because its suddenly not about "saving the gods in a morally righteous act to preserve all life." It becomes a layered and complicated network of issues that makes the answer to that question incredibly difficult to answer. Is preserving the status quo because its how things operate now worth it at the expense of the suffering of others? What would saving the gods and the Ruidians look like? Is it even possible to save both? What changes to how things operate would be a result of that? How would those changes be handled?

I bring this up because there is a tendency in some discourse that I've seen to frame questioning the validity of saving the gods as inherently the "wrong" choice to make. When instead, when you see the cast struggling over the question, its because the answer is not straight forward. The gods are not necessary for life. They never were. They just are necessary for life the way things are now. And the question of what disrupting that means is such a fascinating one to engage with.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 8

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of physical fight, swearing, hospital, stitches, injuries to ribs and wrist, mentions of thoughts of cheating (i don’t condone), guilt, angst, characters under the influence of alcohol.

The tension between Matt and I hung in the air, a lingering echo of what had almost happened, but it was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling as I unlocked my phone. My phone had one notification - a text from Jess.

“Hey, are you okay? Alex got into a fight..Call me when you can!”

My stomach twisted, and I felt my heart drop. Why am I only hearing this from Jess? Why has no one else tried to contact me? Alex wasn’t the rowdy type, so for him to get into a fight at a nightclub, I knew it was bad.

Matt was already reading his own texts, his brows furrowed as he processed the information. “Shit.” He muttered, glancing at me with concern. “Alex got into a fight with one of his teammates. They’re saying he’s hurt.”

Panic set in, “His teammate?” I thought as I tried to piece together what could have happened. I rang Alex’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. My heart pounded in my chest, every worst case scenario flashing through my mind.

“We need to go,” I said, my voice trembling as I stood up. “We have to find him.”

Matt nodded, already grabbing his keys. “Emily said they’re at the hospital. Come on, I’ll drive.”

The drive to the hospital was a blur, my mind too consumed with worry to register much of what was happening around me. Matt stayed focused on the road, his grip on the steering wheel tight. I could tell he was worried too, even though he was doing his best to stay calm for my sake.

When we finally pulled up to the hospital, I spotted Emily standing outside, her phone pressed to her ear. She was pacing, looking more annoyed than worried, and the sight made my stomach turn. I knew Emily wasn’t perfect, but seeing her so detached at a moment like this made me question everything.

The closer we got to Emily, I realised she was just as drunk as she was at the party and it wasn’t the time for another one of her outbursts.

“Matt what took you so long, I’ve been here for ageeeeeesss.” Emily said, crossing her arms while stumbling her balance to one side. “They won’t let me see Alex yet. They’re still checking him out or whatever.”

Matt’s expression tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “Let’s just go inside and wait. I’m sure they’ll give us an update soon.”

We walked into the hospital together, the smell of sanitizer hitting us immediately. The stark white lights made everything feel even more surreal. The waiting area was half empty, a few people scattered around, their faces etched with worry. We found a quiet corner to sit, the tension between us palpable.

“Do you know what happened Emily?” I asked.

“I have no idea, one minute we were all dancing, the next thing punches were been thrown.” Emily replied, visibly upset.

As we waited, Emily kept glancing between me and Matt, her suspicion growing with every second. “ Wait, did you two come here together?”

“Yeah,” Matt said quickly, his voice steady as he lied. “I picked her up on the way here, figured it would be easier since Y/n needs to be here too.”

I glanced at Matt, grateful for the quick cover, but I couldn’t help feel the tug on my heart. I wasn’t too sure if she believed what Matt said, but before she could press further, a nurse approached us.

“Are you both here for Alex too?” she asked, her eyes on Matt and I.

“Yes,” I said, standing up quickly. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable.” the nurse said, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “The doctors are finishing up with him now, but he should be able to go home tonight.”

I nodded, relief washing over me. “Thank you. Can we see him?”

“Just one of you for now.” The nurse said, glancing between us. “You can all go in once he’s moved to a recovery room.”

“I’ll go! I’ve known him the longest.” Emily said quickly, as she jogged down the hallway bare foot, her high heels sat on the chair next to us.

Matt and I exchanged a look, but I couldn’t bring myself to argue. This was Alex, my boyfriend - the person I was supposed to care about more than anyone. So why am I not the one walking down that hall right now.

We sat back down, the silence between us heavy with unspoken thoughts. I couldn’t shake the image of Alex, hurt and in pain, and yet my mind kept drifting back to the situation with Matt earlier, and the way we’d almost… I shook my head, trying to focus on the present.

“Are you okay?” Matt asked, his voice soft as he reached out to place a comforting hand on my arm.

I nodded, “Yeah, I’m just worried. I can’t believe this happened.”

“Alex is tough. He’ll be fine,” Matt said, but there was something in his tone that made me wonder if he was trying to convince himself as much as me.

We lapsed into silence again, waiting for the nurse to return. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I didn’t have the energy to check it. Instead, I leaned back in the uncomfortable ER chair, my thoughts spinning in a million different directions.

What had happened to Alex to make him snap like that? And why did I feel so guilty sitting here with Matt, even though I knew we hadn’t done anything wrong?

Shortly after she ran down the hall, Emily came back, looking more irritated than concerned. “Alex said he wants you in the room with him instead.” she said with a sigh. “Well I would like to think my own boyfriend would prefer me to be with him.” I thought to myself.

I nodded, standing up again. “Okay, I’ll go see him.”

As I went to walk down the hallway Emily had come from, the nurse reappeared, motioning for us to follow her.

"He's ready to be discharged, you can all come in." She said with a gentle smile.

Emily, Matt, and I exchanged a brief glance before we trailed after the nurse down the quiet hallway. When we reached Alex's room, I felt a strange mix of emotions - relief that he was okay, but also a deep unease right in the pit of my stomach that I couldn’t quite shake.

Alex was sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, his wrist wrapped in a sling and bandage covering the cut on his forehead. His face lit up when he saw us, a crooked, drunken smile spreading across his lips. Despite everything, he looked like a little kid who had just been given out to but was happy to see all of us.

“Thereeee she issss.” He slurred, his voice thick from the painkillers and the alcohol still infused in his system. He tried to stand but swayed slightly, prompting the nurse to steady him. “My dream girl, I’m so glad you’re here.” Alex said as his gaze landed on me. He reached out and pulled me into a hug, his arm wrapping around my shoulders.

“Of course, Alex,” I said softly, stepping back slightly as he released me to sit back on the edge of the bed. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

I knelt down beside him, my heart breaking at the sight of him so vulnerable. “What happened?”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear as he murmured, “Got into it with one of the guys. So stupid, it shouldn’t have happened.” He pulled back slightly, his eyes glassy as he tried to focus on me. “You’re the best, you know that? The best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He leaned in to kiss me, his lips finding my forehead. I couldn’t help but notice how Matt’s expression darkened out of the corner of my eye. I glanced at him, catching the tension in his jaw, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

After letting us have our moment, the nurse gave us a rundown of Alex’s injuries - a Grade 2 wrist sprain, a few bruises ribs and a small cut on his forehead that required stitches. Recovery time is 4 weeks. They’d given him something for the pain, which explained his current state, and informed us after a bit more paperwork, we were free to leave.

Matt kept focus on us despite Emily yapping in his ear. “4 weeks recovery time? Thank god you’ll be good as new just in time for Barcelona!” Emily exclaimed in relief.

Matts eyes were dark with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. He seemed to snap out of it when Alex turned to him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

You’re a good dude, Matt,” Alex said with a grin. “Thanks for getting her here. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Matt nodded, his face plastered with a neutral look, though I could sense the tension beneath it. “No problem, man. Just glad you’re okay.”

The nurse handed Alex his discharge papers, and now that everything was finalized, we could leave. Matt stepped forward to help me get Alex to his feet, his arm gently sliding around my boyfriend’s back to support him making sure he wasn’t putting pressure on Alex’s ribs in the process. As they stood, Alex winced, so I moved closer, ready to catch him if he fell.

“Thanks, Matt,” Alex mumbled, his head lolling back against Matt’s shoulder. He turned his blurred gaze to me, a dopey smile spreading across his face. “I’m so glad we’re all here. Together.” He reached out, his hand brushing against my cheek before he pulled me in and leaned in to kiss my forehead again. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

The kiss, meant to be tender and affectionate, felt like a sack of rocks sitting in my stomach. I’m standing in a hospital room, holding my boyfriend up, with someone who I had thoughts of kissing tonight. The whole scene felt surreal, like we were all playing parts in some fucked up drama that none of us had signed up for.

Emily took Matt’s keys off his waistband and walked ahead of us all, ready to unlock his car and open all the doors for us. Emily took the passenger seat as I sat in the back with Alex. As we drove back to our apartment, Alex’s head laid back against the seat, his eyes half-closed. Emily was asleep with her head resting against the car window. I sat in silence, my thoughts racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened tonight. God if Alex had have just come home everything would be different. Everything would be fine.

When we finally pulled up to our building, Matt helped me get Alex inside while Emily trailed behind, groggy from her 20 minute nap. As soon as we got him to our bed, Alex was out cold, his breathing deep and even. Emily sighed, brushing a hand through her hair, clearly exhausted.

“We should get going,” she said, glancing at Matt. “I hope you’re okay Y/n. I’ll check on him in the morning.”

Matt nodded, his eyes meeting mine briefly before he looked away. “Yeah we should get going. You should get some rest Y/n.”

Emily gave me a quick hug, her perfume lingering in the air as she pulled away. “Take care of him, okay?” she said, her voice softer than before.

“Yeah,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “Don’t worry, I will.”

As Emily left to walk back to the car, Matt lingered in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room before settling on me. “If you need anything… you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Matt,” I said, offering him a small, tired smile. “I appreciate it. For everything.”

He nodded, hesitating for a moment as if he wanted to say more, but then he turned and walked out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a sleeping Alex. I looked down at him, his face peaceful in sleep. I had almost crossed a line tonight. But for now, all I could do was focus on the present. I pulled the duvet over Alex and lay down next to him. I checked my phone, remembering I felt a notification while I was sitting in the hospital. It was from Jess again, but the message had been deleted.

a/n : this isn’t proof read properly, it’s 8am and i’ve been working on this since 5am with 3 hours sleep <3 jet lag is reallllll i’ll fix anything that needs to be fixed later

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf

*can you pls lmk if you actually got tagged in this, this shit isnt tagging most ppl idk why

[captainmera]

My God I love your depiction of the Wittebane brother ❤️

Do you think there might have been a chance that your Pip wouldn't kill his brother when Calec goes to Demon Realm? He seems way more tolerable of weirdness and is actually curious about the taboo things. That it makes me wonder if other steps were taken by people around him, maybe he would make different choices and not turned into a brother-killing genocide goop man. Obviously, the blame is still his for what he did, but I can't stop wondering what if.

And him getting along with Evelyn instead of hating her right of the bat is really cute.

Thank you! :D <333

He grew up with this theatrical bisexual of a brother. Pretty sure the reason Belos didn't give a hoot on the Boiling Isles about queer stuff is because he kinda knew, and accepted, that Caleb was kinda queer. In some cases, people can ignore or bend certain rules for people they love. Even disregard them or pretend they don't apply or exist.

(long rant about writing and narrative foils and blah blah under the cut)

Unlike Caleb, I think Philip is the sort that only picks-and-chooses whatever rules he feels will supports his personal wants/thoughts and tosses the rest.

Caleb was not hiding it as well as he thought he did. lol.

I think that, sure, there was probably a turning point for Philip.

And absolutely, people around him influenced him. He's just a kid, a vulnerable one at that, in a protestant Christian cult.

I kinda like to think of it as a corruption arc. Mostly because it seems (to me) that the whole reason Luz was meant to have a depression-arc and Philip getting all "YoUrE JuSt LiKe Me!" thing was because.. There was supposed, I think, to be similar beginnings for them.

But Luz, in season 3, got depressed and felt a lot of guilt, so her arc is going from this happy-go-lucky kid interested in different things, to a depression arc where she questions herself. While Philip has a corruption arc, where he gradually goes from a well-meaning kid interested in different things, to evil and delusional.

I am also combining Luz, King, and the Collector into Kid-Philip's themes.

King is fascinating as a pre-narrative foil for kid-Philip. I think. As King was very clingy to Luz and didn't want her to leave, he too had a delusion about his own importance (disregard that it was kinda true in the end there). King tried to dictate (in that book episode) about what his and Luz' book should be about, how it should go, and it really hurt Luz' feelings. In the end, they solved it. But as a narrative foil, I think for the Wittebanes, they probably had a similar struggle on a larger scale, and it didn't get resolved.

The Collector, too! They're desperate to be close with someone, anyone, who gets them and wants to play on their terms. Kinda like Belos wanting him and Caleb to be witch hunters. Not accounting that Caleb is his own person outside of him-- Which, if you think about it, Caleb made his whole life (in my version anyway) about taking care of Philip. So I'm sure Philip felt like he really was Caleb's entire world. And then suddenly he wasn't. Because of a witch. The Collector, despite having this incredible power (just like Pip having his brilliant brain) is still a child and using their power in selfish ways. Not intentionally, I think, just out of a fear of abandonment or isolation.

I personally am in favour of nobody-is-born-evil-but-anyone-can-become-evil kinda thing.

I would like to explore how Philip gets corrupted.

I am slowly influencing Philip in my fanfic with little things that will, eventually, boil down to not so great moments.

The thing about delusions is that the person truly believes in it. Philip believing he's a hero has to make sense and feel believable.

Belos is a jerk. Philip isn't, yet. He becomes that jerk. But I don't want to write a sociopath. I also don't like using less-favourable mental illnesses as an "easy way out" to write why Philip became Belos and a genocidal maniac.

I have strong feelings about de-stigmatizing mental illnesses in writing, without romanticizing them or leaving out the really awful and less discussed sides of it. This includes diagnoses within all the clusters of the DSM5. I will not sit here and say I only support a diagnosis like Autism or GAD, and not things like Histrionic or Borderline.

And including people with MH issues and personality disorders is important, too, as well as not trying to downplay them.

People throw around Belos with things like Narcissism and Psychopath, without actually understanding what those means or what the different types there are. For example, is he a grandiose, oblivious or a fragile narcissist?

Yes, these disorders are looked down upon. A lot of people who have them aren't very nice people. But that doesn't mean they're evil or have no heart.

Lots of children can display early signs of these, and in a rough time like the colonial 1630s of America, it is not unthinkable that those rough times bred some dysfunctional people. I'm sure Philip has his own slices of pie as far as mental health goes, just like Caleb and many other struggling people.

But, I will not write from an angle that implies Philip just has darkness from the start in him.

There's a reason why I had Caleb go on a rant about being born evil in chapter 5. Because puritans, and Christians alike, at the time - truly did believe bastards were just... Half people. Did you know that if an orphanage found out a baby was a bastard, they wouldn't let it suckle the nursery goat's udders. Because they were afraid it would soil the milk and, in turn, might give the non-bastard babies bad influence. Somehow.

With that kind of logic in your culture, it's no rocket science that people would put nonsense together and think it made sense.

I'm much more interested in how puritanism and witch hunting culture influenced and corrupted Philip into becoming who he became, and why he refuses to budge on his beliefs to the point of murder.

As the owl house, the show, has commentary on systems influencing cultures in a bad and positive way. But in particular, the one Belos tries to influence the Demon Realm with; being a not-so-great way. So! With that as a clue: what made Philip turn bad, most likely, was partially the puritanism and its extremist ways. I think TOH is also a bit of a nudge at the HAYS-code of Hollywood and how it has trickled into most all the American culture-core. As it's both trickled into schools, morality, politics and other things outside cinema.

Just pointing at him and going "He's a sociopath because he became a genocidal tyrant" is, to me, cheap. Not only does it further stigmatising mental illnesses by implying only a disorder can make someone do such evil things. But it also disregards the most horrific truth of all; that the true monsters are people not at all unlike yourself. And that they, too, were children once.