#F/W 2017

[thealpacapull]

[newestcool]

Juun.J f/w 2017 menswear Creative Director Jung Wook-Jun Photographer Marcus Tondo  Newest Cool on Instagram

[silviascorcella]

Antonio Marras a/i 2017: elogio dell’ornamento che narra l’identità oltre il tempo

Un flâneur singolare, squisitamente unico nel suo genere, viaggiatore che vaga irrequieto e insaziabile in mondi sospesi sulla realtà, affollati di storie che attendono solo di essere narrate. Storie racchiuse in oggetti riemersi e ritrovati dal tempo che fu, in ricordi antichi ed ancora limpidi tramandati giù per lo scorrere delle generazioni, in racconti che appartengono alla terra propria, quella dell’isola sarda, e a quelle lontane ma mai estranee: storie accovacciate in punta di una penna mai stanca di tradurre sul foglio le immagini plasmate dalla fantasia; in punta di mani sapienti, sempre immerse nell’opera sartoriale di dar loro concretezza tattile nella stoffa viva e nei decori accumulati, perciò inconfondibili.

Antonio Marras, rigattiere istintivo e sofisticato della materia e della memoria, che mescola al richiamo forte dell’arte come via prediletta d’espressione, ed impasta assieme alla moda come linguaggio fondamentale di bellezza: non appartiene ad un’unica categoria, bensì al fascino irresistibile ed intenso dello sconfinamento tra le arti e alla profondità della passione a plasmarne le contaminazioni in creazioni di stile da indossare. E tale alchimia accade nuovamente e felicemente con la collezione a/i 2017-2018!

Ogni collezione da sempre racconta una storia diversa: come fosse un gioco di specchi e riflessi da caleidoscopio, quella dedicata al prossimo inverno, come suggerisce il titolo “Haunted”,si compone di varie presenze, ovvero narrazioni che han preso vita in tableaux-vivants in bilico perfetto tra performance teatrale, installazione d’arte e, per l’appunto, presentazione di moda. Scene interpretate da modelli e attori che hanno abitato le ampie stanze della Triennale di Milano. Proprio quelle che, fino allo scorso 21 gennaio, hanno ospitato la mostra antologica dedicata allo stesso Marras: “ Nulla dies sine linea. Vita, diari e appunti di un uomo irrequieto”.

Sullo sfondo, un fil-rouge che dalla vita artistica dello stesso Antonio Marras, già in mostra, si apre in un abbraccio alla vita creativa del regista ed artista armeno Sergej Iosifovic Paradžanov, anche lui custode dell’arte di mescere le discipline per sublimarne le realizzazioni in opere che agganciano lo sguardo con la forza pittorica mentre rapiscono il pensiero con la potenza evocativa.

L’ispirazione parte da qui: da una mostra parigina dedicata al regista che Antonio Marras visitò dieci anni fa, e la cui folgorazione s’innesta nell’immaginario visionario fino a declinarsi, generosa, in un carosello di creazioni maschili e femminili che sintetizzano nella bellezza il penchant di entrambi per quell’approccio da cantastorie di realtà, fatta di oggetti della quotidianità passata, di suggestioni pittoriche, di memorie intime eppur collettive che sfumano nella fiaba sognante, ma con le radici ben aggrappate alla terra madre.

Ed ora, prendiamo l’ensemble appena illustrato e decliniamolo nel linguaggio di poesia stilistica che di Marras è tratto d’identità inconfondibile: ed in un’atmosfera sospesa tra allure retrò e contemporaneità d’intenti si riconoscono le sovrapposizioni di tessuti opulenti e le incrostazioni di decori preziosi, i brandelli di materiali recuperati che prendono una vita nuova, le applicazioni e i ricami che si posano frementi ovunque, dai cappelli alle décolleté, sui colli ampi dei cappotti da uomo e i bomber, sui giubbotti di pelle e sui pizzi sensuali dei vestiti di lei.

Ed ancora, gli accostamenti inusuali che diventano affinità elettive: i completi maschili da uniforme di soldati e gendarmi d’antan e la fluidità lasciva degli abiti femminili, il rigore delle camicie e le trasparenze suggerite, le fantasie floreali che dalla delicatezza man mano esplodono in collage eclettici, gli ori metallici e e i jacquard solenni, i kilt scozzesi e lo chiffon cosparso di ornamenti, le ruches, le balze, i fiocchi. L’ornamento che è segno d’identità, di dichiarazione salvifica d’eccentricità!

Silvia Scorcella

{ Pubblicato su Webelieveinstyle }

[jawmidnight]

[dreamings-free]

.

[gael-garcia]

Nabat (2014, Azerbaijan)

directed by Elcin Musaoglu cinematography by Abdulrahim Besharat

[yuneu]

i feel like most of my interests that have really lasted ive gotten into when i was a kid or preteen and i just havent gotten into anything else since

[transfemlogan]

HELP GNFDSKJLNGFJ HELP IM GOING THRU OLD TUMBLR POSTS & STUFF & I FOUND THIS POST WHERE SOMEONE SENT THOMAS AN ASK LIKE "DID YOU KNOW THERES BLOGS WHERE ARE WRITING NSFW ABOUT YOU???!? ITS LIKE READING PORNOGRAPHY & ITS FLAT OUT DISGUSTING!!"

& THOMAS LITERALLY RESPONDED W/, & I QUOTE, "SO, DON'T VISIT IT?"

[stepintothelimelight]

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ HASN’T EVERY LITTLE CHRISTMAS WISH BEEN SENT?

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　° I hope the holiday

will find you well… ✧ ⁺

PART 2 of the Spitfire Saga

TRAILER: A blue Christmas in Monaco

(Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader (platonic), Sebastian Vettel x fem!driver!reader (platonic), 2017!f1 grid x fem!driver!reader)(SMAU + written work)

For more Spitfire content go to my account and it’s my pinned post since tumblr hates me and won’t let me link anything :)

WARNINGS: ANGST, family issues, mentions of death/ mourning, language maybe? fluff (a little), google translate french, sexism, slut shaming, complicated family relationships

fc: pinterest girls

Aaaaannnnd ACTION!

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yourusername just shared a story!

Caption: [skiing w my favs 🩶]

Replies:

yourbestfriend1: With the boys? yourusername: with the team!! 😜😜 yourbestfriend1: Oh right I forgot you’re a pro driver now and go on free ski trips with LEWIS HAMILTON yourusername: Lewis isn’t here ☹️ yourusername: i think he’s a little salty about merc replacing Bottas so soon yourbestfriend1: did he expect them to race a driver down? yourusername: 🤷‍♀️

charles_leclerc: Why no invite for me? yourusername: sorry i don’t associate with rookies charles_leclerc: you’re a rookie as well Chérie. yourusername: sorry i don’t associate with non race winners charles_leclerc: f1 changed you 😞 yourusername: i don’t mean it charlie 🫶 yourusername: next time me n u n artie can go ��� charles_leclerc: liked a message

lewishamilton: Sorry I couldn’t make it. Hope you had fun! yourusername: I did! See you in Feb for preseason! 🩶

yourmominsta: A little jealous! yourusername: liked a message

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You cradle your phone in both hands and stare down at the little red heart. Double tapping your own mother’s message should not make you feel this gross and torn apart inside.

You stare at your instagram chat with her for a few more minutes than you’d like to admit, then shut off the phone altogether and lay it facedown on the bed next to you. 

You’re somewhere in the Swiss alps with your performance team, taking a few days to ski before the holidays. You, luckily, have your own room in the little hotel that is somehow associated with Mercedes as a whole. 

There’s a gnawing in your chest. Should you have responded to you mom with actual words? 

Things at home have been rocky lately. 

It started the week of Abu Dhabi. Since you were already F2 world champion, you had planned to pay the fine and skip the final race of the season, since it was thanksgiving.

In all honesty, you didn’t decide that. Your mother and father did, then held an hour long screaming match with you, which ended with your mother storming out and you in tears. 

“Don’t you love us? Don’t you want to be with your family?”

“No, of course not. To her, we’re nothing.”

They’re not nothing. You wish they were nothing, that what they thought didn’t mean anything to you.

But they aren’t nothing, and you still would move heaven and earth for your family’s approval, so you had decided to stay home for Thanksgiving, whether it jeopardized your career in motorsport or not. 

Until you got the call, they had won. You were going to miss the last race of the season, possibly the last race of your career for a family dinner. 

And then Toto called and you sprinted out of Calc, turned your car on and sped to the nearest airport, shooting a text to your mom on the way.

She had not been pleased.

A voice in your head that sounds suspiciously like Seb’s tells you that there shouldn’t be a world in which you make yourself sick worrying about what you mother is going to scream at you when you get home. 

You wish you could text him. Call him, tell him what’s wrong, but you can’t, or you won’t.

You don’t want to bother him, and you already have one set of parents that hate you, you don’t need him and Hanna to get fed up with you, too. 

You can’t, however, stomach yet another family dinner when your mother, father, aunt and uncle are all ragging on you for following you dream and being a little too busy. You know they all wish you were normal.

It’s not worth it, you decide. Going home is not worth it.

So you pick up your phone and tap on Charles’s contact, realizing only belatedly that your presence at their home would be an intrusion on their mourning.

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Christmas in Monaco is … everything you remember your childhood christmas to be. Unconditional love, laughter, light.

There are times, of course, that you all feel the lingering hole that is the absence of Herve, who was the patriarch of the family. 

Pascale, bless her soul, she does her best, and seems genuinely glad that you’ve come to celebrate with them. 

“Y/n, mon amor!” she exclaims as you walk through the door, Mercedes duffel bag thrown over your shoulder. “I was so happy when Charles told me that you were spending Christmas with us!”

She wraps you in a hug and you freeze up, willing the tears that are stinging your eyes away and easing into the embrace. There is t a time in your recent memory that your own mother hugged you like this.

Pascale snaps her fingers at Charles. 

“Charles, monte son sac dans la chambre.”

He sighs and takes your duffel over one shoulder, ascending the stairs to the bedroom you will be sharing with him.

“Come,” Pascale orders you in English. “You must be starving!”

it’s a flush of hugs and chatter and drinks flowing, sitting around this table with the Leclercs. Enzo and Arthur don’t question your presence. You assume that Charles has told them you are constantly having issues with your family. 

Charles sits to your right. Pascale heads the table and Lorenzo sits across from Charles with Arthur to his right. Lorenzo asks you and Charles about the upcoming season, congratulates you in your win. 

“Charles will not stop talking about it!”

“It’s impressive!” Charles defends, his ears pinking. “She’s the youngest to ever win!”

You pat Charles’s shoulder. 

“It’s ok, Charlie. I know I’m just so amazing.”

He mutters something in French that you don’t catch, but Pascale slaps his shoulder.

“Do not use those words at my table!”

The entire table erupts in laughter and you look around. This is the first time in a long time that a family dinner has actually felt like family.

There is a mattress in Charles’s closet that you’ve slept on for hundreds of nights throughout your lifetime. It’s a little lumpy, but the trick is to lay down a comforter under the bottom sheet and that smooths out all the bumps. 

You’ve showered and changed into your pajamas while Charles makes up the makeshift bed at the foot of his own. 

He casts a dirty look at your black Mercedes t-shirt. 

“This is a Ferrari-only household,” he scolds you with no actual bite. 

“I don’t see you driving for Ferrari.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes one of his pillows and sets it at the head of your bed. He’s pulled the sheets tight, just like he always used to.

“When was the last time you slept here?” He asks you, breaking the weird silence you’ve fallen into. 

“Um,” You set your clothes next to your duffel. “2015? I came and stayed to watch your first home F3 race?”

He was seventeen, you fifteen, and you’d been in the height of your awkwardness, and to make matter worse, he still hadn’t discovered deodorant. Altogether, not a fond experience.

He makes an affirming noise and lays down on his bed. 

You pull back your covers and he shuts off the light, and for a while it’s just the two of you breathing. He always tries to match your inhales and exhales.

“Your family,” he blurts into the dark. “Why aren’t you with them?”

Your heart squeezes. 

“I think they think I think I’m too good for them.”

He pauses.

“Repeat? slower?”

You laugh softly. Sometimes you forget his English isn’t the greatest. 

“They think that I think that I’m better than them. My mom, especially. When she was growing up I think she idolized her parents and I don’t idolize her in the same way. She’s really scared that she can’t control me like they controlled her.”

Charles mulls that over,

“And your father? “

You sigh into the darkness. 

“I don’t know. He’s always working and he doesn’t like that I have my own opinions and stuff, because he’s very … he needs to be right. 

“And then my brother, we get along when our parents are being crazy, but it’s not like we’re close. I was gone for most of our childhood and now he’s in school.”

There’s a shifting in Charles’s bed, the you hear his feet pattering on the floor. The mattress beside you dips, then he’s laying next to you, his shoulder touching yours.

“This is very uncomfortable.”

You scoff out a laugh.

“It’s not that bad.”

“It is. My bed is much more comfortable.”

“Then go back and sleep there!” 

He shifts next to you, rolling on his side then back to his back. Lying here, next to him, it’s hot. You scoot over an inch so you can still feel him but you’re not touching. 

His breaths become slower and deeper.

“I’m sorry,” He tells you just as you’re drifting off to sleep. “That you feel like your family doesn’t want you, but… “

His hand pats yours three times. 

“I’m glad you’re here. Makes it more bearable.”

You fall asleep then, and wake up with you back to him. You sit up as the cold light streams through the blinds and look over at him. His face is smushed and a bead of drool pools on his pillow. 

“Charlie,” You whisper. “Charlie, wake up.”

He sits up like you just ran an electric shock through him. His hair is smashed to the side and he used the back of his hand to wipe the drool.

You giggle.

“C’mon, I smell breakfast.”

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twitter:

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charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: A bittersweet Christmas celebration. Will be missing you forever, Papa. x

tagged: arthur_leclerc, yourusername, lorenzotl

liked by max33verstappen and 56370 others 

view 72891 comments:

user1: Merry christmas, charles! 

user2: Repose en paix, Herve ❤️❤️

user3: The fact that Y/n spend Christmas with the Leclercs is 🤨🤨

↳ user4: fr i knew she and charles were close but … girl… he has a gf …

↳user5: Oh I bet his GF HATES her

↳user77: Yeah, AND it’s the Christmas right after they lost his father, like intruder who?

yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️

♡ by creator

↳ user65: HOMEWRECKER

↳user66: She’s actually such a skank. I don’t know why people put up with her.

user6: I know it’s been debunked a bunch of times but CharY/n would be so 😍😍

↳user7: he has a girlfriend and she’s always said he’s like a brother to her

↳ user6: if my bf had a friend as close as her I would end it

↳user7: the thing is that she has been seen out and about with Giada. They’re good friends 😳

user8: Doesn’t Y/n have her own family to spend Xmas with?

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As soon as you say ‘It’s fine’ you know you’re done for. ‘Fine’ is never fine.

He calls you, you try to avoid the question, but then he hits you with -

“Y/n.” In his disappointed/worried voice. And it works like it always does. You tell him everything - from when it started when you were in F3 to now, how you’ve driven your family away. He listens. He’s a good listener when he wants to be.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks at the end. You take a shaking breath.

Because I didn’t want you to realize I’m no good. Because you would leave me, too. Because I can’t not love them and I don’t know why.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going home for the new year?”

You’ve been waiting on a text from your mom. That’s how it goes. Fight, spend a week in the silent treatment, one of you reaches out, you make up, then you fight again. You promised yourself that you’re not going to be the one to reach out this time.

“I don’t know.”

“If not, come to my house. We’re having a party.”

Your words catch in your throat.

“I don’t want to intrude-“

“You’re never intruding,” he assures you. “I’m your mentor, remember? I have to look out for you.”

My parents are supposed to look out for me.

“Okay,” you breathe out. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Seb.”

“Merry Christmas, Spitfire.”

Your mom texts you. She grovels. You get on a plane an hour later and go back home.

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yourusername

yourusername: gettin ready 💪💪

F1 2018 and last semester of hs here i come

liked by mercedesamgf1, yourbestfriend1 and 817279 others 

view 5389 comments

yourbestfriend1: okay miss influencer 😍

♡ by creator

user10: Y/n on twt: 😃👹🤡😼🧌 Y/n on insta: 🩵🌃🎹🫧⭐️🪞

↳yourusername: it’s called duality babes 💋

↳user10: OMG

↳user16: her addiction to memes though 🤣 she can’t even do an aesthetic post without one

gg_giada_gianni: jolie fille

↳yourusername: c’est tout toi ❤️

↳user80: Y/n and giada saw the romance rumors and said hold my beer

user20: Why didn’t you spend Christmas with your family??

leclerc_pascale: Wonderful to spend Christmas with you, darling

↳yourusername: awwww thanks for letting me crash your xmas 🫶🫶

↳arthur_leclerc: Don’t worry, she likes you more than she likes any of her actual children

↳ charles_leclerc: Sadly true

user11: Still can’t get over the fact that she’s still in school

user12: U don’t deserve that seat

susie_wolff: Such an inspiring young woman, Y/n!

↳yourusername: Hi susie 😚

yourmominsta: So proud of you, ladybug!

↳ yourusername: ❤️

user13: why would they let a woman in the car?

↳ user14: she’s already driven it

↳ user15: and won her debut race ?

max33verstappen: Merry Christmas! I wouldn’t train too hard, since you’ll never beat me again! 😸

↳yourusername: 😺😺😾🔪

user17: I didn’t know she played piano?

↳user18: she plays off and on. Her youtube has a few videos of songs she’s covered and written

↳ user17: multitalented queen 👑

user19: Oh, to be eighteen and already signed to a top F1 team

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✧ ⁺ ⁺ oh, noel

oh, noel ┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

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Aaannnnnnddd scene!

DIRECTOR’S CUT: a little short and bittersweet holiday special (in august 👻)

Want to join the taglist? drop a comment below or message my inbox

🏷️: @octavikravecell218

[hannieehaee]

SINGING LOW (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: despite everyone within the industry knowing mingyu to date around a lot, what didn't meet the public's eye was his undying crush on you, his label mate, and his need to fill the you-shaped hole in his heart with any girl who'd give him the time of day.

content: idol!mingyu x hybeidol!reader, pining, mingyu's kind of a slut, smut, afab reader, reader is a 97 liner, dry humping, a lot of made up shit abt the industry lmao, mentions of other idols, oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex, angst, fluff, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.7k (teaser) 13k (full fic)

FULL FIC HERE

Or you can check it out on my ko-fi today by subscribing here and going on the fic here

a/n: this is not connected to my lil idol!mingyu x idol!reader series just fyi <3 also i decided to open a ko-fi!! (stop booing me pls T-T) here's a link to the details! anyways hope u enjoy this ive been thinking of this trope for a while <33

masterlist

Mingyu could still remember the day he met you. Well, maybe not met, but it was the first time he ever saw you face to face. It was at some awards show back in 2017. MAMA, was it? Or maybe the MMAs? Well, that didn't matter much. All he knew is that on stage, you had caught his eye.

It was only about a year into his debut, so he still wasn't too used to this scene. He simply sat back and enjoyed the pretty sight in front of him, knowing your group (and you) by name, but not having had the pleasure of meeting you personally by then. He hadn't met many people thus far, actually. At the time, most of his friends in the industry consisted of the twelve other members of his group. Coming from a small company, it had been hard for any of the members to begin to disperse and befriend their peers in the industry. Sure, they all had friendly acquaintances with other idols, but nothing could really compare to what they had with one another.

It wasn't until somewhere around 2017 that Mingyu had finally found a group of friends outside of his twelve members that he could trust. He had always been an outgoing guy, befriending anyone who'd look his way. He reasoned that someone had to be the icebreaker in every social situation, and he had given himself that job. Despite being a charismatic extrovert, however, most of these friendships did not stick. He developed many acquaintances, and maybe even situational friendships, but he had not really considered anyone a friend until meeting one Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook was simply the tip of the iceberg. Some believed Mingyu had taken the man under his wing, while others believed the opposite, but it had in fact been a mutual aid. They had both felt a bit lost at the time they met, bonding over the many things their lives had in common. Their age being one of them. At first it was thrown around as a joke, the idea of forming a little group with the many other 97-liners within their industry. But that joke became reality soon after when Mingyu had met Yugyeom backstage during his group's most recent comeback at the time. The three soon became four, taking in a Cha Eunwoo, and then a Jaehyun from NCT. Even some of Mingyu's own members joining, having the privilege of being born on the great year of 1997. This was how you eventually entered the picture.

Mingyu had already known you, well, more so known about you. Despite being the same age, you had debuted a couple of years before Seventeen, which gave him the opportunity to get to know you as an idol before he did personally. He still remembered the days in the green basement, watching comeback shows with the members as they prepared for their own debut. There had been a specific day when your group had been presenting their newest comeback, which was also the day Mingyu first caught sight of you. You had caught his eye immediately. There was just something about you. He might've developed a slight interest in you from that moment on, hoping for the day in which he would become one of your peers.

Upon debuting, Mingyu had only seen you in passing for the first few years, the closest contact being a quick and informal introduction between your groups as you cruised through the backstage hallways of MNET. You looked even better in real life, he had to admit. But sadly, there was no one-on-one interaction between you that day. Nor was there during any of the following encounters throughout the next few years. It wasn't until a few years into the creation of the 97 squad that Mingyu had the pleasure of meeting you personally.

It was sometimes Jungkook who brought in new members to the friend group, but it was mostly Mingyu who would take the liberty of befriending the aforementioned members in order to introduce them into the group. It was mostly due to Mingyu's extroverted personality, which allowed him to strike up conversation with anyone at any time, unlike Jungkook who was a bit shier in that aspect. It had been Jungkook, however, who had first introduced the two of you. It had been backstage of MAMA or MMA, he wasn't completely sure. Mingyu also wasn't sure how you and Jungkook had met; he'd never bothered to ask, but upon your first meeting it had seemed like the two of you were close friends already. Mingyu had to admit that upon that first assumption, he was a bit jealous of his proximity to you. This was immediately followed by the realization that maybe Mingyu's previous infatuation in you went further than mere interest in you as a fellow idol, but it was maybe a bit of a crush. Regardless of what Mingyu had felt at the moment, he knew that he wanted to see you again.

For some unknown reason, you were not present in the following 97 gathering soon after your introduction. This struck Mingyu as strange, seeing as you were also a 97, and a friend of Jungkook's, so why would you not be present? It was soon after revealed to Mingyu that you had yet to be offered a spot in the now renown 97 squad. Jungkook had assessed that all the dating rumors that would come attached to the inclusion of a girl in the group were simply not worth it. He wanted to save you both the headache and the scandal. It seemed like a pretty reasonable decision. Mingyu, however, was not the most reasonable of people, often allowing his decision-making to be led by impulse rather than calculated choices. Which was why Mingyu had found himself walking up to you next time he spotted you at yet another comeback show, promptly asking you if you'd like to meet some of his friends sometime in the following week, claiming it was tradition for all 97s to go for a drink every other week. He felt like he was inviting you to join into a cult, or at least that's what you said to him it had felt like. But you had still agreed, giving him your number so that you could be privy to the details of the meeting.

Your admission to the friend group came very naturally, having already met a few of the members and easily befriending the rest. Yes, it had come with some controversy at first, but Mingyu had come to learn that you were quite strong-minded, not allowing a few rumors to get in the way of your personal life. It was easy for the two of you to grow close after that. Despite having befriended the entirety of the group, you and Mingyu seemed to form a more special bond, even seeking each other's company outside of group gatherings. It was all platonic, of course. Mingyu had quickly realized you did not seem interested in that way, so he tucked his crush deep within him, choosing to offer a friendship to you instead, never speaking of his crush to anyone. This was how the two of you came to become best friends.

This repression of his feelings, however, did not come without its consequences.

Mingyu was a hopeless romantic at heart. This meant that his crush never really went away. It actually worsened over the years that he knew you. But you never acted like anything other than a friend to him. You would always treat him the same way you did Jaehyun or Eunwoo. He was just another one of the members of the friend group to you. Yes, you two were closer in nature – calling each other the best of friends within the industry – but Mingyu did not want to risk that closeness just because of a selfish crush.

The repression of his feelings was also met with other things. Mingyu was a very loving man. He needed to express his love to everyone around him or he would physically explode (Okay, not really, but he swore that's what it felt like to him). He had a loving family to tend to by taking care of them financially and spending every waking minute away from work with. He had his thirteen best friends to shower with playful affection during and out of work. He had his 97-liners to play around with in between work schedules. What he did not have, however, was that one person who was his and only his. Someone to give the type of love that you reserve for only that one special person in your life.

Mingyu found himself seeking this person out since the beginning of time. Many would call Mingyu a womanizer or a player due to the high volume of relationships he had been involved in during his life. It wasn't like that, however. Not at all. Mingyu would date a girl he liked, would be happy with her, but would ultimately realize that the spark he was looking for was not there, causing him to regrettably end the relationship. He was often met with curses directed his way, but he felt it was best to try and end it amicably if he did not see a future there.

His most recent relationship had been with a former staff member. She was funny and sweet, and also pretty easy on the eyes. They got along very well when she first got assigned to Mingyu as part of his personal team. It started as a friendship, but it didn't take long for Mingyu's hopeless romantic tendencies to seek her out in a romantic way, something to which she obviously agreed to immediately. Mingyu had no issue getting women on his side. He had never dealt with rejection all his life. Being handsome, talented, funny, and even rich from a young age, it was rare to be met with anything but enthusiastic responses left and right. The relationship did not end amicably, however. Mingyu should've known better than to date someone who technically worked for him. I mean, he had been through this before (with one stylist, one MNET staff member, and a former Pledis recruiter to be specific), so he should've known by now that mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. But his romantic tendencies couldn't be helped. He had too much love to give, and no one to give it to.

[1000sassa1000]

Kojo Hammond

photo by James Anastasi

Rain Magazine - F/W 2017

[mycneighteen]

sora choi for dolce & gabbana f/w 2017

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Final Word Count: 22.6k

Author's Note: Ta-da! I put a lot of work into this last chapter, like actually becoming the president for a couple hours, but I really wanted to make it worth everyone's time for sticking around and reading all the way through.

Thank you so much for following along! All the sweet comments from you guys never fails to make my day!

^//v//^

Cross posted on AO3

The Reveal

Almost three months.

It took almost three months for Leon's portrait to fully dry after it had been varnished. You'd checked it almost daily after the two month mark due to Leon's constant pestering. He was understandably antsy, and admittedly, you were too.

There was a lot of convincing involved, but you managed to keep the man at home while you transported the painting to the White House. He worried it would be damaged en-route. Such a little worry wart.

Setting up the painting's respective spot a column away from Chris and Claire's seemed very appropriate; tall, fake bushes sitting on either side of where it would be placed, a warm yellow bulb lighting up the inside of the decorative archway, and the patterned golden frame where the canvas would forever be now hung empty in that portrait hallway, waiting to be pieced together and completed.

The shiny gold placard had already been screwed onto the frame, words zapped on it via laser:

Leon S. Kennedy

USSTRATCOM Agent from 1998 - 2011

D.S.O. Agent from 2011 - 2017

You knew how long he'd been working as an agent, but it was still baffling nonetheless. Nearly 20 years of non-stop intense and usually very traumatizing work, what a feat.

Moving on, you'd worked out the plans for Leon's farewell party with the President and a few coordinators over the span of a few days, making sure to store the painting in a secure room for the time being. It was to stay covered with a violet piece of velvet cloth up until the reveal at the party, no one was allowed to see it besides you, the President, and the various security guards working the grounds.

After another two extra months of waiting, the farewell party was drawing near. There had to be enough time given for invitations to be sent out to people, wait for said people to RSVP, and allow travel time. And at this point, Leon was busting at the seams; extremely nervous, excited, and even a little scared at the prospect of it all.

Your words from that second painting session all those months ago never left his mind: "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

The man clung to that, doing his best to internalize it and mentally prepare himself for what was to come. He was hoping you were exaggerating, but from what Chris, Claire, and even Jill have told him about their experience after the fact, he knew deep down that you'd seen it all too well before.

What Leon failed to realize was that he wasn't alone anymore. Sure he had his friends to help, but he'd never had someone to come home to everyday.

During the last few sessions, he had asked to stay with you at your apartment, citing the potential aftermath of the party as reasoning. However, you really didn't need him to explain his reasoning, you would've let him. Even if he just felt like it, you would've welcomed him with opened arms.

Besides, he'd already been staying at your place for longer periods of time over the months. You'd visited his house a few times, but he made sure to whine and complain about how bare and boring it was. If you remember correctly, Leon had said, word for word, that your apartment "felt like a warm hug". With that, he shelled up with you in only a couple weeks before the painting had dried. He made special effort to learn your routine, wanting to give you the space that you needed while also maximizing his time spent with you.

Leon was an actual angel, you were wholeheartedly convinced. Some days you would come home after working on another painting to the man cooking dinner, having bought an expensive wine to share with you. When your hands would start to ache and your back and shoulders were sore from the long hours spent holding a paintbrush in an awkward hunched position, he would set aside anything he had going on just to give you all the massages, kisses, and love that you could ever want.

Nothing was ignored when it came to you and your wants and needs. Leon admitted awhile back that he felt guilty for intruding on your space, though you were very quick to shut that down. He was far from a burden, actually lining up more with a dream come true.

And just like he did with you, you spared nothing while getting to know the in's and out's of the man that occupied your mind, heart, and home. You learned his favorite meals, watched his favorite shows and movies with him, returning the massages when he would return from the gym, and paid extra attention to how he liked to be held at night. Who would've guessed that the Leon Kennedy loved to be the little spoon?

What you spent the most time on was making sure to listen when he suddenly went on tangents about his past. They really did haunt him. You would wake up in the middle of the night to him huddled at the top of the bed, arms wrapped around his legs and head between his knees as he did his best to cry quietly. All you could do for him in those moments was pull him against your chest, gently rocking him back and forth while whispering sweet nothings, just until he felt either ready to talk or ready to fall back asleep. If he just wanted more comfort, then that's what he got, obviously.

He was only recently put on a couple medications to help him better manage his PTSD and anxiety since he really had to cut back on the alcohol in order to take them the way he needed. Definitely worth it to both you and him seeing as his nightmares lessened in intensity and frequency.

Now here you were, straightening out Leon's tie for him since his hands were failing him, nerves getting the better of him. He had taken his meds a few minutes ago, wanting to have the full effect during the party to combat any destructive behaviors during it, so it was no wonder his hands were still trembling.

"You're going to do so well, Leon." You smiled, giving him a gentle pat between his pecs after tucking his tie into his suit jacket. He was staring straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he stared at himself in the mirror. "You've made so much progress and I couldn't be any prouder."

He licked his dry lips before slowly looking down at you, giving you the best smile he could, which was really just him pulling his lips back tight. If it weren't for you constantly being around to encourage him and push him to get better, he would not be able to attend his own farewell party.

How had he managed to get so far without this level of love and care? Where would he even be without you? Hopefully later when his mind isn't racing a million miles per minute, Leon will be able to tell you just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

Leon watched you in the mirror as you walked around to stand behind him, straightening out his suit jacket in random spots until deciding to just wrap your arms around his midriff, pressing the side of your face against his back with a content sigh. He brought his still-trembling hands up to hold onto your arms, rubbing his thumbs up and down across your soft skin.

His eyes settled back on his own face after staring at your arms linked around him, letting out a shaky sigh of his own as he attempted to just focus on this moment. You were perfect, ethereal, a true work of art. He wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

It took some time, about an hour, before Leon's medication was starting to kick in. You were definitely a big help, he couldn't give all the credit to his meds.

His relaxed demeanor wasn't easy to spot, the man was just naturally rigid, but you waited until he let you know that he was ready; ready to go to his farewell party, ready to see the portrait you painted for him, ready to put in the effort into accepting the next chapter in his life.

The drive to the White House was seamless, having been picked up in a blacked out SUV that held four personal guards, courtesy of the President. Leon wasn't going to complain, he actually kind of liked the pampering effect that came with being driven around by a dedicated entourage.

Almost all good feelings were drained from Leon when the car finally pulled up to the front of the White House where more guards stood waiting to escort the two of you inside. It was still early in the night, but the sun had set long ago, making for quite the beautiful atmosphere.

He could see numerous party attendees walking up the stairs, dressed up in their fanciest outfits for him. He held your hand the entire way up the stairs and into the entrance hall with a grip that was sure to leave your hand hurting. No matter, you could tell he needed you. That vice grip he had was well worth it for his comfort.

There were quite a few more people than either you or Leon expected. It seems as if all available agents, young, old, and retired, had been sent an invitation for tonight, along with quite a few high-ranking government workers. Luckily, this was a private event; no reporters, no news, only those who had been fortunate enough to be invited.

The first to spot you two was Chris who quickly made his way over to pull Leon into a bone-crushing hug, giving him a few solid pats on the back before letting go. Leon only reciprocated the hug with one hand, the other refusing to let go of yours, though his grip had loosened by now.

"Where's Claire?" Leon muttered, leaning to the side to scan over the sizeable crowd. "She's.." Chris turned around to also scan the crowd, squinting a bit as he looked. "She's somewhere. My wife is with her, her family, and Jill."

Leon pursed his lips with a curt nod, humming quietly in acknowledgement before standing straight again. He glanced down at where his hand held yours, squeezing it again for just a second as if to remind himself that you haven't gone anywhere.

Chris had turned back around to see the small gesture Leon gave to you, a coy smirk on his face. "What uhh... what's all this, huh?" He subtly pointed between you and the other man, voice lowered.

Leon cleared his throat and looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear despite the volume in the hall. "... M'gonna save that for the-.. the speech." Chris just nodded, crossing his arms before slowly turning to look through the crowd again. "Alright, well, let me go find the family and bring them over before you're swarmed." And with that, Chris made his way back into the crowd.

Unfortunately, Leon had been spotted by the rest of the partygoers before Chris could return with everyone. Many pleasantries were repeated while also returning small talk with the people he recognized, which was a lot. You managed to avoid most of it, only being questioned a few times due to the rather obvious hold the man had on you. Despite having attended the last few parties like this, most people unable to recognize you as the artist. A blessing and a curse.

The next couple hours were spent eating finger foods, conversing with whoever, and enjoying the way Leon started to flow with the event. He soon found his way to Chris, Claire, their partners and kids, and Jill which really helped him loosen up. He needed the more familiar faces, having now let go of your hand fully to talk more animatedly with them. You made sure to stick by his side as long as you could, letting out a soft laugh every time you noticed his quick glances over to you to check if you're still there.

The time eventually did come for you to part with Leon, signaling a couple guards to follow you down a few hallways until reaching the room where the portrait sat, still covered with the violet cloth. The decision to keep it back here for so long was made by the President, wanting less of a sudden reveal and more of a build up.

Normally it would already be hanging in the entrance hall, covered and ready to be revealed, but not wanting to risk any potential damage, you were asked to hold off bringing it in until the President was ready to give the speech leading up to Leon's.

It'd been set in the golden frame rather quickly with the help from one of the guards that walked down with you. You had the guard to hold it up for you so you could give it one final good look before he was instructed to lead you back. After recovering, you took the portrait in both hands, holding it close as you were escorted back through the halls and into the main entrance hall.

By now everyone had directed their focus closer to the center of the back wall. Next to where the President stood, your own art easel was now set up. That was mostly as homage to you and it wasn't like anyone besides you would understand that it's yours, though Leon did pick up on that little feature. He'd been staring at the back of that thing for months, counted the various old streaks of paint on the pale wood over and over.

It made his farewell all the more personal, struggling to mask the feeling of the ever-growing pit in his stomach from the friends he was still standing next to.

The sound of a mic being tapped drew everyone's attention in to the President, the volume in the hall quieting to a whisper, soon completely silent as he began to speak into the mic;

"Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you to honor and pay tribute to a true hero, a dedicated public servant, and a loyal friend who has served our nation with unwavering dedication for the past 19 years. It is with great respect and admiration that I address you on this occasion, as we bid farewell to a remarkable agent who has exemplified the very best qualities of service and sacrifice." As the President spoke, Leon held his breath, hands gripping onto his suit jacket to keep from trembling again.

At this point, you'd silently walked along the side with the guards from before, bringing the covered portrait up to the front before carefully placing it on your easel. "Throughout this nation's history, these agents have played an essential role in ensuring the safety and security of our nation's people and have consistently placed their lives on the line to protect the sanctity of our democracy. And today, we acknowledge one agent who has done so with unparalleled devotion."

"This retiring agent has been a silent sentinel, ensuring the continuity of our democratic ideals. Through countless hours of training, vigilance, and selflessness, they have demonstrated a level of commitment that is nothing short of extraordinary. But beyond their exceptional professional duties, this agent has been a friend and a confidant to those of us privileged to work alongside them. They have been a source of strength, a steady hand in turbulent times, and a symbol of the unbreakable bond that can form within the ranks of those who dedicate their lives to service."

You positioned yourself opposite of the President, placing your hands behind your back to keep your posture tall as you now smiled at the crowd, subtly scanning for Leon. His eyes were already on you when you found him, and your smile only widened further.

It prompted his own nervous smile, toying with the buttons on his jacket while turning his attention back to the President, wanting to remain respectful to his, honestly, very flattering speech so far. You followed Leon's eyes, seemingly having the same idea to just watch and listen.

"The sacrifices made by our agents often go unnoticed by the public, and that is by design. Their commitment to duty is matched only by their humility. But today, we pause to recognize and celebrate this retiring agent's dedication, valor, and sacrifice." The President continued to address the attendees in the room, giving you a quick nod before returning his focus to everyone in the entrance hall.

The President outstretched his hand towards Leon standing in the crowd, now staring at him with a prideful yet relaxed look. "To Mr. Leon S. Kennedy, our retiring agent and loyal friend, thank you for your 19 years of dedicated service to our nation. May your retirement be filled with the peace and contentment that you so richly deserve. You leave behind a legacy of honor and courage that will never be forgotten." The crowd of attendees clapped and cheered briefly, causing Leon to reach his hand up to wipe across his face. A poor way to hide his red face. He's done that before, hasn't he?

Once the crowd quieted back down, the President finished his speech with a classic, "May God bless you, your family, and may God continue to bless the United States of America. Thank you" before the crowd picked back up cheering and clapping. You clapped along with them, laughing at Leon's flustered expression. He could barely hold back his smile, not really have expecting to be so well recognized for his service.

Leon's queue to make his way to the front was when the President walked over to stand next to you, making sure not to block the covered portrait from anyone's view. He'd recited this speech to you countless times, even more to himself when he was alone, but all those eyes staring at him were causing him to fumble. He messed around with the mic once he was standing in front of it, and that was your queue to walk over and stand next to him, placing a loving hand on his forearm.

That's all he needed, just a little extra encouragement from the person he relied on the most. His speech was short and straight to the point, never having been a man of professional word, yet he still managed to slip in some words of praise for you and all the help you provided him during his rough patch earlier in the year.

Neither you or Leon had outright said it to each other, let alone to anyone else, but hearing him announce to the entire hall of people that you were his girlfriend made your heart soar. Speaking about you calmed his nerves, and he wanted everyone to know just how lucky he felt, like he'd hoped for earlier.

He bent over slightly to whisper in your ear, covering the mic with his hand to make sure it didn't pick up his voice. "Now, why don't you go ahead and show us all that masterpiece you spent months working on?" Oh, now you were the flustered one, giggling nervously as you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before walking over to where the painting sat on the easel.

"Ladies and gentleman," Leon's eyes followed you as he straightened his posture out, speaking into the mic once more with a wide smile gracing his features, "I'm honored to have the wonderful artist herself present my very own portrait to you." As he spoke, you carefully lifted the cloth from where it was draped over the painting, finally revealing the ever-awaited portrait to everyone.

Just like with Chris and Claire's, Leon was sat in that soft maroon chair, slightly off center, but his position was different with his right ankle rested atop his left knee, elbows on the arms of the chair while his hands rested in his lap, fingers interlaced. His smile was soft and partially crooked while he looked forward with relaxed eyes, a few strands of hair painted to sit in front of his brow. And to tie it all together, it had a lovely green background, a dark forest green as the base while a sage green was used to add texture. The vintage look had always been your favorite, and Leon fit it so perfectly. He was nearly timeless.

Many "ooo's" and "ahh's" were heard amongst the clapping from the crowd, along with a handshake from the President. Before you could turn to face Leon, you felt his arms slowly slink around you from underneath your arms, the weight of his head now pressing down on your shoulder. You could feel his grin when he tilted his head to kiss your jawline, beginning to gently rock you side to side. Getting to show off your work was always so rewarding, but just knowing Leon was handling everything so well was a feeling you'll truly never forget.

He was happy. That's all you ever wanted for him. The man has truly earned his portrait in that agent hall of fame.

The portrait was soon brought down to the aforementioned hall to be hung up and displayed for good, a few small groups trailing down to get a better look at it. Chris was the noisiest about it, telling Leon it looked like it belonged above a grand fireplace, to which said man agreed with.

Chris, Claire, Jill, and their respective families stared at it for quite some time alongside Leon and you. They all chatted while Leon stared quietly, taking in every little fine detail you'd added. You changed his position some, and did he really smile at you like that? He really did look lovestruck. Of course only he could tell that. Hopefully.

He surprised himself with how okay he felt after seeing the painting. You warned him multiple times that it would most likely be overwhelming and emotional, and while it was, it wasn't in a bad way. The most compelling thought he had right now was to just sweep you off your feet and smother you with love.

Leon asked one of the guards to take a picture of him with everyone, including you, in front of his portrait. Then, just a picture of you and him standing in front of it, easily becoming the background on his phone.

The party went on for only an hour or so more before people started to trickle out. You and Leon were some of the first to leave, saying all your thanks and goodbye's with hugs and handshakes.

The moment the two of you walked into your apartment he practically pounced on you before the door had shut, large hands gripping tight on your hips as he sloppily made out with you. He just had to show his gratitude for all your hard work.

Your lips tasted so sweet and your soft little moans were driving him wild, he couldn't help the groan that rumbled from his chest. Full blown sex had been held off by you, not wanting to rush him into anything while you helped him manage his problems. Honestly, he was glad you'd held off on him, because now that he was feeling like his own person again, it made waiting all the more fulfilling.

Leon hoisted you up into his arms after you'd kicked your heels off, holding onto the back of your thighs as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling against his lips as he carefully navigated around the short hallway and into the bedroom.

You looked so good splayed out on the bed for him, that beautiful dress you chose was insanely flattering on you. It had to go though, so after yanking off his jacket he made quick work of your dress, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before pulling it up and over your head. Your bra and panties didn't last either. He'd only gotten to see you naked a couple times before, but god, he'll never get tired of seeing you this way, acting all shy like you weren't his favorite view.

Leon was so eager to get his hands on you that he neglected to take off his suit, opting instead to hover over you and bury his face into your neck. He wasn't a good artist, but he loved to cover your neck in shades of red and purple like you were his own little painting, akin to leaving his signature all over you.

He only pulled away once you tugged on his hair, listening to your begs and pleas for him to get his clothes off. As much as he wanted to prolong this night and tease you, he couldn't hold himself back. He needed to feel your soft skin against his.

"So perfect." Leon mumbled against your skin, licking and kissing his way up your stomach and to your breasts after practically ripping off his clothes. His hands found their way back to your hips, pressing them firm against the bed to keep you from squirming away as he nipped at one of your nipples, pulling it into his mouth.

He moaned as he sucked and circled his tongue around your nipple, his eyes falling closed. The other couldn't stay neglected, so he brought one hand up to pinch and tug at your other nipple, sighing when he felt your body press against his as you arched at the sensation. He loved when your moans would pitch, so cute.

His cock was pressed against the inside of your thigh, rutting against it when you would tug at his hair. Once he decided your nipples had enough attention, he sat up and grabbed the backs of your knees to place around his waist. The new position offered Leon the perfect opportunity to drag his leaking cock through your folds, pressing it down with his thumb so the tip would nudge your clit with every slow thrust forward.

You were so wet, so delicate. He could've fucked you right then, slid right into that juicy little pussy, but he needed to take care of you first. He would never forgive himself if he hurt you.

Reluctantly, the man pulled his dick away from you, letting out a poorly concealed whine at the loss. He ran his hands up your thighs before moving one hand so he could circle your clit with his thumb, the other hand back on your hip to keep you steady.

"L-eon~!" You brokenly moaned out, pleading to him with your watery eyes. You needed more; his fingers, his cock, anything. He couldn't say no to that, stopping his assault on your clit to drag his middle and ring finger through your drenched folds to wet them properly. He brought your right leg to sit over his shoulder, hand gripping the top of your thigh as he leaned forward, studying your face closely as he gently teased the outside of your slit with his middle finger.

He moaned with you as he slid his finger in, keeping his eyes trained on you as he started to tentatively thrust his finger in and out. "Yeah?" Leon whispered, licking his lips as you barely managed to nod. "Yeeeaah, there's my girl..." The rumble in his voice was music to your ears.

His ring finger was soon slid in next to his middle finger, switching between scissoring you and making a partial 'come here' motion with them. After only a couple minutes you were leaking all over his hand and the bed, the wet sounds of your pussy mixed with your moans making his cock jerk and drip with precum. Leon clenched his teeth as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, immediately bringing them to his mouth to suck off your juices. He let out an audible sigh after swallowing, repositioning his dick to slide through your folds a couple more times before nudging your hole with the tip.

"Look at me, baby..." Leon's hushed demand brought you to open your eyes, if only half way. He made eye contact with you before leaning forward further to kiss you, all the while finally pushing into you. He soaked in your gasp, his eyebrows furrowing as you tensed up. "Relax.. let me in~..."

"It's only me.." He panted, tilting his head to kiss the corner of your mouth as your eyes shut again. "It's only me, baby..." he repeated this a few more times as he eased his cock inside of you, the stretch only stinging for a moment before it turned to pleasure. He filled you perfectly, you could feel every bit of him, especially with his right hand adding a bit of pressure to your stomach.

Leon sat still for a minute to give you time to adjust, taking the way you moved your hips as a sign to move. He pulled out, all the way to the tip, before slowly thrusting back in. He managed to choke out a quiet "Fuck-.." when you clenched around him. "Taking me so well.. such a big girl~.."

He always knew just how to talk to you, making sure to take his time buttering you up. You were putty in his hands, and between his words and the feeling of him reaching so deep inside of you, you could barely think.

It didn't take long for him to start to lose his composure, the sound of wet skin slapping together filling the room as his thrusts intensified. "All mine. All for me." The grip he had on your thigh was sure to leave a bruise, but that was the last thing on your mind.

The hand he had pressing on your stomach moved further down so he could circle your clit with his thumb again, jaw tight as he looked from your blissed out expression to where his hand was playing with you. "Oh fuck! That's it!" Leon growled, eyes glued to your cunt as he plunged in and out of it. "Cream this dick, mamas~... Cum on my cock so I can fill this pretty pussy up.."

The way you gasped and moaned when you came was enough to warrant a noise complaint, but screw your neighbors. You needed this just as much Leon did.

"Oohhh fuck yeah.. Milk me, baby~... shit-" Leon's thrusts stuttered to a stop while pressed flush against you, abs flexing as he pumped ropes of cum into you. Once you managed to open your eyes, all you could do was stare at the man, flushed pink and sweaty, sitting between your legs. Both of you moaned in tandem as he pulled out, Leon groaning to himself as he watched his cum drip from your pussy. Truly a work of art meant for his eyes only.

He leaned over you again to plant a quick kiss on your lips, chuckling when he felt you smile. "Let me go grab something to clean you up, okay?" You could only nod in response, reaching your hand up to caress the side of his face before he stood up from the bed. He walked across the hall into the bathroom, wetting a soft rag with warm water before making his way back over to you.

Leon made sure to be gentle when cleaning you, the warmth from the rag soothing your tender skin. You were able to sit up on your elbows and watch him, using his gentle touches as a way to calm your still racing heart.

After wiping himself off with the rag, he tossed it over in the general direction of your laundry basket. It was a problem for later. Right now, he wanted lay back on the bed and pull you up so you could lay on top of him. Along with just how nice it felt to hold you, he loved the weight of you on him. So that's what he did, pulling you onto him after laying on the bed, running his fingers though your hair on the back of your head.

"Leon." You muttered against his collarbone. His eyebrows raised, yet his eyes were closed. "Mm?" His right eye peaked open when he felt you giggle. "What?"

"I love you." His fingers paused their ministrations at your words. You lifted your head up to look at him, growing worried with his shocked expression. "Sorry, is that too-" you choked on your words, stopped mid-sentence by Leon's arms suddenly squeezing the breath out of you with a very tight hug. He pulled you up just a little further so he could smush his lips against yours.

"I love you too!" He breathed out excitedly. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to tell you!" You tapped his arm and he immediately relaxed his grip, mumbling a small, "Sorry, my bad.." when you took in a deep breath.

"You're adorable, Leon." You shook your head with a smile, brushing the hair from his face to give him a much gentler kiss before settling you head back against his chest with a quiet sigh.

Leon was still a tough man, but you made him soft. Only ever soft for you.

Side note: I totally forgot to add in the pussy eating i am so sorry. i thought i did but it was literally just a thought that never manifested 😭

tags!: @greywardensaywhat @xkittiecatx @httpsuguru @httpsuguru @k-fallingstar @lysa1201 @bobastayhigh @pocketstoriesstore @agent-dessis-posts @klee-iii @missjoenowhere @mi-zer-y @bigtiddiesimp @finsternisle @sweets3rial @sodacolablast (there's a few of you that tumblr wouldn't let me tag for some reason)

[southernmermaidsgrotto]

Herbalism book reccomendations 📚🌿

General herbalism:

The Herbal Medicine-Maker's Handbook by Green J. (2011)

20,000 Secrets of Tea: The Most Effective Ways to Benefit from Nature's Healing Herbs by Zak V. (1999)

The Modern Herbal Dispensatory: A Medicine-Making Guid by Easly T. (2016)

A-Z Guide to Drug-Herb-Vitamin Interactions by Gaby A.R.

American Herbal Products Association's Botanical Safety Handbook (2013) 

Medical Herbalism: The Science and Practice of Herbal Medicine by Hoffman D. (2003)

Herbal Medicine for Beginners: Your Guide to Healing Common Ailments with 35 Medicinal Herbs by Swift K & Midura R (2018)

Today's Herbal Health: The Essential Reference Guide by Tenney L. (1983)

Today's Herbal Health for Women: The Modern Woman's Natural Health Guide by Tenney L (1996)

Today's Herbal Health for Children: A Comprehensive Guide to Understanding Nutrition and Herbal Medicine for Children by Tenney L. (1996)

For my black folks!!!

African Medicine: A Complete Guide to Yoruba Healing Science and African Herbal Remedies by Sawandi T.M. (2017)

Handbook of African Medicinal Plants by Iwu M.M. (1993)

Working The Roots: Over 400 Years of Traditional African American Healing by Lee M.E. (2017)

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Mitchell F. (2011)

African American Slave Medicine: Herbal and non-Herbal Treatments by Covey H.C. (2008)

The Art & Practice of Spiritual Herbalism: Transform, Heal, and Remember with the Power of Plants and Ancestral Medicine by Rose K.M. (2022)

Indigenous authors & perspectives!!

Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants by Kimmerer R.W. (2015)

Gathering moss by Kimmerer R.W. (2003)

The Plants Have So Much To Give All We Have To Do Is Ask by Siisip Geniusz M. (2005)

Our Knowledge Is Not Primitive: Decolonizing Botanical Anishinaabe Teachings by Djinn Geniusz W. (2009)

Ancient Pathways, Ancestral Knowledge: ethnobotany and ecological wisdom of indigenous peoples of northwestern North America by Turner N. (2014)

A Taste of Heritage: Crow Indian Recipes and Herbal Medicines by Hogan Snell A. (2006)

Medicines to Help Us by Belcourt C. (2007)

After the First Full Moon in April: A Sourcebook of Herbal Medicine from a California Indian Elder by Grant Peters J. (2010)

Latin american herbalism works!!

Earth Medicines: Ancestral Wisdom, Healing Recipes, and Wellness Rituals from a Curandera by Cocotzin Ruiz F. (2021)

Hierbas y plantas curativas by Chiti J.F. (2015)

Del cuerpo a las raíces by San Martín P.P., Cheuquelaf I. & Cerpa C. (2011)

Manual introductorio a la Ginecología Natural by San Martín P.P.

🌿This is what I have for now but I’ll update the post as I find and read new works, so keep coming if you wanna check for updates. Thank you for reading 🌿