#la pride march

[vocalsynths]

Magical girl pride flags (Pretty Cure) | Gilbert Baker (Gay)

All videos were made by iPrettMagic on YouTube | This is part of an edit series (2/??)

Magical girl pride flags (Pretty Cure) | Gilbert Baker (Gay)

All videos were made by iPrettMagic on YouTube | This is part of an edit series (2/??)

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

By Melinda Butterfield

Thousands of people flooded the streets of lower Manhattan on Pride Sunday, June 25, for the fifth annual Queer Liberation March. This year’s theme was “Trans and Queer, Forever Here,” in defiance of the more than 500 anti-trans, anti-LGBTQ+ bills and growing street violence targeting the community coast-to-coast.

[telling-tragedy]

“what’s wrong with you” thanks for asking! this is

[spaceoutdreamer]

MY COWORKER ON MY ASS BECAUSE I DIDN'T UNDERSTAND GAY PRIDE MEANT WE HAD TO WALK IN A 30°C WEATHER IN A BIG CROWD, IT'S CALLED GAY PRIDE NOT GAY WALK 10 FUCKING KILOMETERS

[disneydatass]

Rest In Peace to all the victims in the Colorado Springs shooting. These words are not enough. I’m so sick of our community being attacked and killed and this fucking shit ass country doing fuck all and allowing guns to have more rights than lgbtq+ people! Who are, you know, actual Human beings!

[jefrozyul]

Quand la marche perd de son contexte

Les dérives se répètent de plus en plus et sans conscience de la réalité dans la communauté LGBTQ+ particulièrement à la tenue des marches de la fierté à travers le monde. Il y a longtemps que j'ai déchanté de la marché de la fierté de Montréal organisé par Fierté Montréal et je ne suis pas seul dans la communauté qui trouve que les marches deviennent une décadence.

Le 25 juin à Toronto avait lieu la Toronto Pride Parade, tout semble bien aller jusqu'à ce que un groupe d'hommes nudistes déambule dans le cortège avec des pancartes scandant en anglais "libérez votre corps, libérez votre esprit", "la simple nudité n'est pas de la pornographie" ou encore "libérez vous pour les normes sociales". Leur présence à scandaliser la droite et des citoyens.

Mon enquête m'a mené à constater que ce groupe est lié au GTA Skinny Dippers ou autrement dit une association de nudistes qui opère dans le grand Toronto. Mais qu'elle est le but de leur présence et n'est-ce pas pour endoctriner la jeunesse présente à la parade? Comme dirait la drag queen Barbada de Barbade et d'autres naïfs, il faut désormais normaliser la nudité envers les enfants.

Vous ne trouvez pas ça louche qu'est-ce qu'on fait à la jeunesse, une classe d'âge pervertie sans cesse par des déstabilisés mental qui parlent d'identité de genre ou encore de construction sociale?

La détresse et le désenchantement

On a bau vous le cachez ou ne pas vous en parlez mais une frange de la communauté LGBTQ+ est de plus en plus malaisé de voir la radicalisation faire comme chez soi et diviser la communauté en deux camps comme c'est le cas aux États-Unis. On laisse davantage de place aux idéologies et l'essentiel est mise à la poubelle.

En France, l'organisateur de la Marche des Fiertés, Inter-LGBT, s'est fait critiquer pour avoir mise en avant des personnes migrantes et des travailleurs du sexe en ouverture de cortège jugeant que ces communautés sont les plus exposés et discriminés. Autre critique formulé, une tendance politique gauchiste qui empoisonne l'esprit des individus en saveur d'une dictature Mélenchon ou encore Rousseau.

C'est "Go woke go broke" au sein même de la communauté LGBTQ+ car c'est bien les résultats de récolter ce que l'on somme. Des gays, lesbiennes, bisexuels, transgenres, queers et autres décrochent car ils sont de plus en plus conscience que les parades ne servent plus à la célébration de la communauté mais plutôt aux idéologies diverses de propagandes. Conclusion, les organisateurs nous abandonnent au profit de débats qui ne leurs concernent pas.

Vous pensez ça fait combien de temps j'ai pas été à la marche de la fierté? Ne compte plus les années d'absence car je préfère me sentir libre.

Événement pour les enfants?

Pour certains des parents, les marches de la fierté serait une sortie familiale... Je ne vois pas ce qu'il y a de familial alors que certains membres dans la communauté LGBTQ+ veulent détruire plus radicalement aux valeurs traditionnelles de la famille en endoctrinant les enfants dès leur plus jeune âge avec les drags queen dans les bibliothèques, l'identité de genre ou la construction sociale.

[linguisticparadox]

For anyone who's curious 💖

Happy Pride Month, linguaphiles 💅✨

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - June 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $Kaybarr1735! And if you tip me and give me a way to contact you, at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week!

1. Victory for Same-Sex Marriage in Thailand

“Thailand’s Senate voted 130-4 today to pass a same-sex marriage bill that the lower house had approved by an overwhelming majority in March. This makes Thailand the first country in Southeast Asia, and the second in Asia, to recognize same-sex relationships. […] The Thai Marriage Equality Act […] will come into force 120 days after publication in the Royal Gazette. It will stand as an example of LGBT rights progress across the Asia-Pacific region and the world.”

2. One of world’s rarest cats no longer endangered

“[The Iberian lynx’s] population grew from 62 mature individuals in 2001 to 648 in 2022. While young and mature lynx combined now have an estimated population of more than 2,000, the IUCN reports. The increase is largely thanks to conservation efforts that have focused on increasing the abundance of its main food source - the also endangered wild rabbit, known as European rabbit. Programmes to free hundreds of captive lynxes and restoring scrublands and forests have also played an important role in ensuring the lynx is no longer endangered.”

3. Planning parenthood for incarcerated men

“[M]any incarcerated young men missed [sex-ed] classroom lessons due to truancy or incarceration. Their lack of knowledge about sexual health puts them at a lifelong disadvantage. De La Cruz [a health educator] will guide [incarcerated youths] in lessons about anatomy and pregnancy, birth control and sexually transmitted infections. He also explores healthy relationships and the pitfalls of toxic masculinity. […] Workshops cover healthy relationships, gender and sexuality, and sex trafficking.”

4. Peru puts endemic fog oasis under protection

“Lomas are unique ecosystems relying on marine fog that host rare and endemic plants and animal species. […] The Peruvian government has formally granted conservation status to the 6,449-hectare (16,000-acre) desert oasis site[….] The site, the first of its kind to become protected after more than 15 years of scientific and advocacy efforts, will help scientists understand climatic and marine cycles in the area[, … and] will be protected for future research and exploration for at least three decades.”

5. Religious groups are protecting Pride events — upending the LGBTQ+ vs. faith narrative

“In some cases, de-escalation teams stand as a physical barrier between protesters and event attendees. In other instances, they try to talk with protesters. The goal is generally to keep everyone safe. Leigh was learning that sometimes this didn’t mean acting as security, but doing actual outreach. That might mean making time and space to listen to hate speech. It might mean offering food or water. […] After undergoing Zoom trainings this spring, the members of some 120 faith organizations will fan out across more than 50 Pride events in 16 states to de-escalate the actions of extremist anti-LGBTQ+ hate groups.”

6. 25 years of research shows how to restore damaged rainforest

“For the first time, results from 25 years of work to rehabilitate fire-damaged and heavily logged rainforest are now being presented. The study fills a knowledge gap about the long-term effects of restoration and may become an important guide for future efforts to restore damaged ecosystems.”

7. Audubon and Grassroots Carbon Announce First-of-its-Kind Partnership to Reward Landowners for Improving Habitats for Birds while Building Healthy Soils

“Participating landowners can profit from additional soil carbon storage created through their regenerative land management practices. These practices restore grasslands, improve bird habits, build soil health and drive nature-based soil organic carbon drawdown through the healthy soils of farms and ranches. […] Additionally, regenerative land management practices improve habitats for birds. […] This partnership exemplifies how sustainable practices can drive positive environmental change while providing tangible economic benefits for landowners.”

8. Circular food systems found to dramatically reduce greenhouse gas emissions, require much less agricultural land

“Redesigning the European food system will reduce agricultural land by 44% while dramatically reducing greenhouse gas emissions from agriculture by 70%. This reduction is possible with the current consumption of animal protein. “Moreover, animals are recyclers in the system. They can recycle nutrients from human-inedible parts of the organic waste and by-products in the food system and convert them to valuable animal products," Simon says.”

9. Could Treating Injured Raptors Help Lift a Population? Researchers found the work of rehabbers can have long-lasting benefits

“[“Wildlife professionals”] tend to have a dismissive attitude toward addressing individual animal welfare,” [… but f]or most raptor species, they found, birds released after rehabilitation were about as likely to survive as wild birds. Those released birds can have even broader impacts on the population. Back in the wild, the birds mate and breed, raising hatchlings that grow up to mate and breed, too. When the researchers modeled the effects, they found most species would see at least some population-level benefits from returning raptors to the wild.”

10. Indigenous people in the Amazon are helping to build bridges & save primates

“Working together, the Reconecta Project and the Waimiri-Atroari Indigenous people build bridges that connect the forest canopy over the BR-174 road[….] In the first 10 months of monitoring, eight different species were documented — not only monkeys such as the golden-handed tamarin and the common squirrel monkey (Saimiri sciureus), but also kinkajous (Potos flavus), mouse opossums (Marmosops sp.), and opossums (Didelphis sp.).”

Bonus: A rare maneless zebra was born in the UK

June 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[petit-papillion]

I want Charles to win.

Not when Max has damage. Or Max's car is not performing. Or Max DNFs.

I want Charles to win.

By fighting Max for P1. By having to cleverly plan when to pass Max or whoever else may be in front of him. By driving brilliantly to keep all other drivers behind him.

I want Charles to win.

When everyone is at their best. When there are no circumstances that give him an advantage. No Lap 1 bowling taking out top competitors. No convenient safety car. No team orders to give him the lead.

I want Charles to win.

And get full credit for his outstanding race craft. Kudos for his superior tyre management. Admiration for his smart strategizing.

I want Charles to win.

Not once, but over and over and over again. Setting fastest laps. Getting Grand Slams. Having the fastest pit stop. Beating records set by Lauda, Schumacher, Hamilton, Verstappen.

I want Charles to win.

So I can see him winking as he receives his medal. Fill with pride as he raises his trophy. Watch him fondly look down at his team while the Monegasque anthem plays. Join the Italians as they passionately belt out their anthem.

I want Charles to win.

Until everyone but me is sick of seeing him on that top step. Until no one calls into question his abilities as a top-notch F1 driver. Until every up-and-coming driver aspires to be like him.

Yes, I may be delusional, unrealistic, off my rocker, or in la la land, but I am a Charles-fan, which means...

I want Charles to win

Petit | 26 March 2024

[dabisbratz]

PENITENCE — leon s. kennedy x male reader

w.c: ~5.3k

warning: sub bottom reader, thigh fucking, spit, standing doggy style, dirty talk, leon’s weak pullout game x2, mixed praise/degradation, oral, choking, sexualizing las plagas, breeding mentions, sir kink, finger hooking, drool, infected leon is a lil mean, dumbification, accidental creampie

a/n: got a loooot of requests for a sequel to this!! so here it is! i hope you enjoy! ૮꒰ ´͈ ˙̫ `͈ Ꮚ꒱�� this fic had a mind of its own!! didn get to write leon as feral as i wanted to but… that’s okay!

You’ve never been shot before. Punched, sure, clean in the jaw in the midst of a training session. It caught you so off guard you nearly swallowed your teeth, and the blood gushing from your nose and coating the pearls tasted like rusty gunmetal. But it really didn’t hurt that bad, you felt more congested than anything.

You've never been shot before. Stabbed, sure, right through the hand until thick blood poured straight out your palm like nature’s greatest waterfall. It wasn’t as sharp as you’d think, not some sort of pinch akin to getting a piercing. No, it was panic first, your eyes trailed down to meet the handle of a hunting knife that cut clean through your palm. Then came the realization, Scorching heat beaming through your hand until it began to tremble. But hand wounds heal fast, you barely remember it.

You’ve never been shot before. Grazed, sure, blasted with the shells of a silver shotgun bullet so hard it seared your skin and left an open-mouthed gash. Your bullet ricocheted off an unknown surface, all because you’d taken it upon yourself to practice your aim alone. But it was just a graze, and so long ago the scar had begun to fade.

So the first time it happens, you’re taken for a loop.

Your legs burn, aching as you trudge beside Leon in his hasty motion up a particularly slippery hill. It’s like you’ve been walking in circles, deeper and deeper into the village but somehow passing the same bloodstained tree. For a man who was over a hundred fifty pounds of sheer force and willpower, he sure was light on his toes. Had there not been moisture from previous nights’ rain still lingering in the air you're sure it’d be easier— no mud to slip on, no pockets of rainwater that looked much more shallow than they actually were— but it lingers.

And it’s not just that, there’s an everlasting tremor in your thighs as you walk, you can barely take a few steps without your movements stuttering. You can’t excuse it as a pulled muscle, not when Leon’s been forcing you to sit back and observe. Though it’s partially his fault, you deduce, because you can see the growing pride in his stride as he listens to your trip over your own feet. Almost like it was a mission, fuck the rookie until he cries and let him walk for himself.

Asshole.

You can’t stop talking, not when your brain is working overtime and you have so many questions. Though it’s not entirely clear if he’s listening, Leon’s body subconsciously teeters in your direction, almost like he’s trying to collect your body heat. He’s certainly done that, that and much more. He’s stolen the air from your lungs with a heavy kiss, he’s collected the sounds of your moans and sealed them in a jar.

You spare him a heavy glance, watching the muscles in his back ripple as he marches through the thickening mud. You wish you’d gotten the chance to see him without it, to card your fingers through the strong fabric as he pulls his shirt over his head and balls it up in his veiny fists. To watch his hair fall, golden bundles framing his face and falling back into place like magic, nearly swept over his eye and so unabashedly Leon.

“Would you stop staring at me?” There’s a playful edge to his voice, teetering around the edges as he blows a bullet straight through the frail neck of an infected resident. You’re too focused on the nape of his neck to watch it explode, an amalgamation of blood and arteries and fat splattering onto the ground and surrounding houses. “I mean, if you want a picture all you have to do is ask.”

You can tell he’s somehow watching you through the corner of his gunmetal gray eyes, with your blatant staring, but he doesn’t seem to have much on the tip of his tongue besides a few smartmouthed remarks. Maybe he has eyes behind his full head of hair.

“Ha-ha, very funny.” You purse your lips, tightening your grip around the flashlight paving the way forward.

Truthfully, you’d underestimated just how much cardio and legwork it took to navigate this village— sure, the implication of missing hikers in the area meant there’d be a trail to hike, but in your head it was much more akin to training. Controlled, steep hills that didn’t continue on as far as the eye can see, an obstacle course that had an obtainable goal— it feels like you’re wandering aimlessly.

But Leon’s with you, so surely that can’t be right.

You wonder how much preparation and time he took into this, how many nights of sparring turned into considering your presence under the same blanket of stars, how often he made things with you in mind. Even if it’s just for a mission.

Quite frankly, it was all the time. Thinking of you put an indescribable amount of weight on his chest, it capsized his shoulders, so feathery light, and yet somehow still managed to put strain on his posture. He was always so laid back, cracking jokes and likable by definition. Yet there he stood, second guessing his abilities in protecting you, having you, wooing you. Ashley is his priority. . . but you’re his partner.

And he wants more.

“Leon?” Apprehension builds in your voice, Leon’s steady stride suddenly broken as he looks down at his hands. You bump right into him, colliding face-first into his body. His back is just as sturdy as it looks, barely jolting as you peek around to look at his handsome face.

His veins are turning black, coiling up his wrists from his hands, inky black streaks that branch off up his forearm and disappear under his shirt. Even the thicker veins decorating his bicep— they’ve become an ugly charcoal that looks entirely too unnatural. Painful. As if leeches have burrowed themselves under his skin, the intrusion crawls further into his bloodstream as small, deep grunts escape from his lips.

You still have yet to ask what happened during your separation— after you ran. But, in a way, you’ve got your answer.

“You with me, Lee?” You search his face for something, anything, under the furrowed brows and clenched teeth. His jaw sets, characteristically rigid, which is a generous start. Somewhere beneath the icy blue of his eyes you see recognition, like he’s not exactly looking at you, but he knows you’re there. Lucid enough. Good.

But without Leon leaving a path of bodies for you to walk over, you have to take over and pave the way.

“I’m gonna take your gun, okay?” It’s rhetorical, whether he likes it or not, because he took your gun away before you truly had the chance to use it— and it’s not entirely like he’s in the position to be making demands. You wish you could laugh about it, let a boyish smile wiggle its way across your face, but without Leon there to laugh with you… there’s no point.

And, like most instances, you find yourself jumping into action before you can think, dragging every pound of steel Leon has to offer through the village until you can find somewhere safe. It happens all too fast. One moment, you’re holding onto the pistol while wrapping an arm around Leon’s waist, blowing holes through the infected like you were made for it, watching their bodies topple to the ground in a lifeless display. Then. . .

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” Your heart plummets into your stomach, you can’t help but think you’ve swallowed a bomb. Your blood is cold on your slick skin, flowing down your bicep like sort of fucked up waterfall. It’s thick and sticky, a rich shade of red that only seems to get darker and darker as it pours from your arm. You can’t help but call for your partner, tightening your grip on his waist. “Leon…”

Getting grazed is not the same.

There’s a similar burn, but this time it’s from the outside-in and back out again. Like you’ve been stung by a swarm bees, all at the same time, and in the same exact spot.

It happened so fast, threw you for a loop, the metal of an axe bounced your bullet right back at you, and landed right through your arm.

Your eyes widen, jittery as Leon parts his legs, planting his boots into the mud in a futile attempt at staying upright. Selfless as ever, the blond just can’t seem to sit still when he knows someone he cares about is in danger.

His dusty pink lips are curled into a snarl, one of his veiny hands clasped over your own; fisting at the bunched up fabric by his waist. His eyes, previously clenched shut, are no longer a brilliant shade of blue— they’ve turned yellow, bright like a citrusy candy. His face, still as handsome as before, is adorned with streaky, black veins that cluster near his left cheekbone and disappear into his cheeks. Instinctively, you raise your arm to swipe away his hair in a half-assed attempt at consolation, but the movement burns before you can put away your pistol.

Leon’s eyes flicker to your bicep, watching the red ooze from the inflamed bullet-shaped hole. His gaze darkens, something you can’t quite grasp flashing in his eyes as he takes the gun from your hand and pushes you behind him.

“Leon—”

“Move! Now!” His voice is much deeper than before— still buttery smooth, just dropping in octaves as he yells into the night air. You don’t have to be told twice, stumbling in the mud as he pushes you in the general direction of an abandoned house. In a perfect world you’d use your knife to help, but something tells you sticking around would just worsen the situation for everyone.

So you rush into the house, bursting through the creaky door as gunshots ring behind you. Almost as loud as the static in your ears, buzzing as you search for a closed off room.

The house is empty, fairly sized— equipped with a staircase that leads upstairs. Bedrooms, you presume, since there are only bathrooms and living spaces on the first floor. The floorboards whine and groan under your weight, tracking mud as you keep your hand clasped over your bicep. It probably won’t make much of a difference now, but the bleeding has subsided into thick clots, which momentarily lightens your mood.

You don’t have much on you, it’s best to travel light when you have places to be— heavy backpacks can weigh you down. But you do have a few bandages and travel-sized disinfectant wipes. You can only help Leon effectively if you help yourself first— you’re dead weight if you go back out there dipped in blood— so you get to work.

It’s hasty, messy, and unorganized, but you get it done. Your bicep is wrapped snug, with enough pressure to support your arm without cutting off any circulation. It’s the best you can do for now, with the panic and anxiety blooming in your throat. It burns like bile, attacking your senses until all you can think of is Leon. The look on his face, the sounds of his pained grunts, the veins darkening beneath his skin.

As if he’s heard you, your silent prayers for his presence in its entirety, he crashes through the door. It squeals on its hinges, slamming shut behind him as his heavy boots collide with the wooden floorboards. You can’t quite make out anything else, just the sound of his shoes as he walks through the hall, and into the bathroom.

Maybe it’s just a hunch, an inference, but there’s irritation floating between his steps. You can feel it radiating off him despite not exactly being near him. The sound of poorly running water emits from the small room, muffled through the door, along with a steadier stream of swears.

“Leon?” You ask, pushing yourself off the wooden diningroom chair with the support of your unwounded arm. Would it be best to give him some space? But that’s not really an option, not with what you witnessed. Not with that intrusion trying to take over his body. “I’m coming in.”

Nearly tripping over the red rug decorating the hallway between the bathroom and living spaces, you clumsily open the bathroom door. Just Leon— sitting on the wide ledge of the bathroom’s squat toilet, his gun discarded on the opposing mantel. You can’t see his face, not with his hair casting silky shadows along the expanse of it, but you can picture his tight lipped expression just fine.

The thought makes heat burst through your skin. Nowhere near as painful as a gunshot wound. This time it’s comforting and sweet, it makes your legs feel like jelly and your heart like jam.

“Ocupado,” He sounds rather proud of himself for that one, readjusting his spot on the ledge. The blond lifts his gaze, shades of blue overcasting the previous yellow hues that once clouded his vision. “How do you feel..Your arm..?”

You should be asking him that.

“I’m good,” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, the strain of your shoulders dissipating into the air the longer you look at him. “You know me. Are you…okay?”

Perhaps ‘okay’ isn’t the word for it. You want to ask if he feels weird, if the deepening of his veins bothers him. What it felt like when he was rendered unconscious. When you felt it— tied to that damned cross— it wasn’t nearly as bad as Leon. In fact, it didn't hurt you at all. You didn’t even notice until the entirety of your arms were decorated in pure, black branches.

“Yeah,” He blinks, not once removing his gaze from the curl of your lips. Still so shiny and wet, soft as they curl with every vowel and syllable that leaves them. He swallows hard, audible as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. Your eyes trace the small mole just below it, the way his throat bulges. “I’m okay. For the most part.”

He doesn’t seem entirely there, lifting himself up wordlessly until he’s crashing into you, his large, gloved hand finding a place around your neck as he pulls you into a kiss.

The bathroom isn’t an ideal place to do it, though you suppose you two don’t have a clean track record of kissing in the best places. He swallows the air from your lungs, deep and gentle as his lips melt into yours. He tastes just like he did a few hours, just slightly saltier. He tastes like you, you’re still heavy on his tongue and it seems he’s hooked on your flavor.

His tongue is silky, messy in your mouth as you try your hardest to absorb his heat. His mouth is so warm, so wet, and you can’t help but whimper when he pulls away. You want to chase it, that heat, so you can’t help yourself when you follow after his lips.

Oh.

Leon’s eyes— they’re red, and the impossibly dark streaks under his skin are somehow darker.

“Your—”

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” It leaves his lips before the both of you have time to process it. He’s much more surprised than you, pink roses blooming on the apples of his cheeks despite the clear obstruction of his body. You appreciate the honesty, clearing your throat to mask the laugh bubbling in your chest. Leon’s okay, and he’s not just saying it. “…Sorry.”

Leon’s red-eyed gaze is casted to the side, but even in his efforts to avoid looking at you, he can’t help himself. It’s cute, really, charming enough to have your heart doing somersaults in your chest.

“Then do it.”

Blue embers sparkle in his eyes, and suddenly you’re being pulled out the cramped bathroom. Whatever he’s infected with, it’s heightened his abilities, because his grip on your wrist feels just as strong as the rusty chains in the cathedral. He’s holding onto you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t, an iron grip that feels more comfortable than painful. And through it all, he’s cautious of your injury.

It doesn’t stop him from slapping you against the wall, your back colliding with the old, peeling wallpaper with a loud thud.

“You’re sure—” You start, the words catching in your throat when Leon’s strong hands tear your shirt apart, straight through the middle. The cold air hits you instantly, sending shivers up your spine as you whine in protest. “I only have one shirt!”

“I have a jacket.” His answer is barely audible, as he’s too busy watching the rise and fall of your chest with hungry, predatory eyes. You’re looking at Leon, who has every feature of the man. . . But he feels different. He feels bigger, in every sense of the word, towering over you as his red eyes study you like a bloodthirsty shark.

Next are your pants, you take the liberty of unbuckling your utility belt, keeping your gaze on Leon as he watches your hands pull them down. A considerate patch of sticky wetness decorates the front of your boxers, darkening and dampening the fabric. Leon’s pink tongue slides over his equally pink lips, whatever restraint he’s using slowly slipping away. You expect him to follow suit, but his hands are on you and he’s guiding you down to your knees.

Your face nuzzles against the fabric of his pants, thick but nowhere near as thick as his cock, which has a prominent, twitching outline.Your mouth waters, saliva pooling between your lips as your eyes flutter shut and he presses your cheek against his dick, firm and rough. His hands are so big, cupping the back of your head as he releases a small, hushed groan.

Leon watches you unzip his pants with parted lips and a baited breath. You look so damn pretty, eyes glazed over within the matter of a few seconds and a stupid look in your eye the second you see his dick again. Like you’ve missed it, when it was only just a few hours ago when he was buried deep inside you. He lets you push his pants down to his ankles, your eyes roaming along the skin of his toned thighs, which black vines slowly creep down.

You press a pretty, openmouthed kiss against the head of his cock, watching precum bead at the tip and smear across your lips. Such a sweet boy, kissing his cock as a greeting.

“Goddamn, you’re so cute,” His grip travels down your face to the top of your neck, where your throat meets your jaw. Your gaze is forced upward, straight into Leon’s vermillion irises as he offers a small squeeze. “Just a little slut. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Mhm, yeah,” You pant against his skin, shimmying forward to grind your front against the leather of his boot. “For you— just for you, Sir.”

Yeah, you could get used to this. The girth of his cock, the vein that disappears beneath the pretty head of his dick, the way his balls weigh heavily against your chin. His pubes are a deeper shade of brown, slightly curly and enough that makes you want to bury your nose in it. He’s so sticky, slick and wet like he’s been thinking about this for a while. The thought of Leon gripping himself through his pants is just so hot, the way he’d buck up into his fist and imagine it’s you instead. The way he’d groan and moan into the air, chasing after some artificial tightness that could only simulate you. Your mouth, your hole.

“Think you can be a good boy for me?” You chase after his cock as he pulls it away, gripping it by the base with a gloved hand. You can only imagine how good the leather of his fingerless gloves feel against it. He coos at your attempts to follow along, meanly slapping the weight of his dick against your cheek until you’re messy with precum. “Hm? Yeah?”

You nod frantically, opening your mouth and covering your bottom row of teeth with your tongue. You can be good, you can be good for Leon.

Tears spring in your eyes the second he’s pushing into your mouth, groaning at the sound of your gags as his cock slides in and out, deeper and deeper without warning. He can’t help it, not when you’re drooling all over his pants and whining for it. Not when you’d look so cute hazy eyed and stained with tears as he fucks your throat. Not when your throat bulges around his cock, letting out wet squelches as you struggle to keep your eyes open and watch his hips snap against you.

“That’s it,” Leon sighs, shaky and content as he holds you in place. His good boy. “Just like that, you take it so—f-hucking—good.”

You lurch back, tears blurry in your eyes as you sputter and gag. His precum is salty and warm, coating your throat as you flutter your eyes and hold onto the swell of Leon’s strong, thick thighs. Heat ripples through your body in waves as a low growl rumbles in his throat, bouncing into your ears.

“Shh, I know, I know. Don’t run from me, let me in,” He coos, sliding his long cock from your mouth to watch a long trail of your spit thin out the further he pulls away. “It’s just too big for you, is that right? Hard to focus on anything when all you can think of is dick.”

You’re breathing heavily, panting loud as you slowly register the mess on your face, your chin. Your lips feel swollen, but your mouth feels empty. You must have a particularly dumb look on your face because it pulls a laugh out of the man in front of you, rich and hearty as he lifts you up with an authoritative hand around your throat.

“C’mere.” He mumbles, pulling you in to pepper messy kisses along your jaw. He’s more impulsive, you gather, with whatever’s coursing through his veins. Rougher too, with the way his hand tightens around your throat when he’s throwing commands at you. You don’t mind it, not at all. In fact, it’s made you all hazy, you feel like you’re traveling through a thick layer of fog as you nod along. You want to be good, to earn his praise.

Leon’s hands travel to your waist, dipping into the plush skin until your thighs are spread just far enough for his cock to fit between them. You’ve never felt so exposed, whining high in your throat no matter how pathetic it sounds, and pressing your body against his firm chest.

His cock feels as big as it looks, long and curved as he slides it between your thighs. You can feel every twitch and pulse, you’re sure he can feel you too— with how he’s grunting and groaning against your neck. He fucks into your thighs like he’s chasing after something, trying to satiate it. His grip is punishing, the pads of his fingertips digging into your skin until it hurts.

“I can’t,” You whine, shaking your head as you watch his cock disappear between your thighs. “S’not— I wanna—”

“You can,” Leon growls, making a low warning of a noise in his throat as he tuts in disapproval. It goes straight to your stomach, tingles shocking your body as you clench around nothing. “And you will.”

Instead of keeping you upright by the throat, Leon’s hands leave you to fend for yourself as he slides them down your supple skin, down every dip and curve and slope, until he’s playing with the leftover stickiness of your hole.

You’re certain there’s nowhere near as comfortable as Leon’s arms. They’re big and strong, plush and warm against your skin, and firm in your hand when he’s flexing. They keep you secure and safe, protected from whatever monstrosities are in this godforsaken place, you’re sure he’d hold you till you both fell asleep, and you’d be enveloped in his warmth.

He smells just as warm too, faintly of vanilla underneath all that sex and remnants of polluted air.

“Christ, you’re so… Warm around my fingers. Give it to me, baby, let me fuck you with my fingers.”

You love his warmth, it spreads across your body and travels down your chest, your stomach, your thighs, until he’s taking you apart with it. His fingers are so warm, so thick and perfect as they fuck into you. Even when you’re sloppy like this, sucking his fingers back in like you’d never wanted to be left empty again in the first place, working your hips back to chase after his knuckles. The warmth of his arms as he flips you around, pushes your weight into his own by the base of your neck, maneuvers you just right, keeps you open and vulnerable for him. All for him.

Yeah, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

“Hey, you with me?” It’s his turn to ask, and you wonder if he felt the same butterflies you did.

“Yeah, I’m,” You’re breathlessly spreading your legs and pulling yourself apart with the warmth of your palms to reveal the puffiness of your hole, fucked out and shiny from earlier’s abuse. Leon wonders how easy it’d be to slip back in, to inch his cock deeper and deeper inside as you flutter around him and keen with oversensitivity. “M’with you, Sir.”

“Atta boy,” The smile he flashes is all teeth, dangerous and sharp as his canines glint in the dim lighting. You have half the heart to be a bit scared, but it doesn’t mean much when he’s working you open when you’re already so sensitive. Your hips jitter, twitching both toward and away from his fingers as he presses against that same bundle of nerves from earlier— it’s too much. This time you really mean it, because the second he hits it, tears spring in your eyes and you’re fisting remnants of the peeling wallpaper like a lifeline. “Greedy little hole. Didn’t you just take me?”

“Ohh, oh, God! Leon,” He hums in acknowledgement, as if he’s actually listening to your mindless babbling, nodding with lidded eyes as he uses your hips to pull you down onto his fingers. He’s using you like some kind of toy, moving you with one hand as you sit there and take it. You’re melting into the wall, drool slipping through the seam of your lips and trailing down your exposed chest. “You— your fingers, feel so good.”

“I know, baby.”

The way you’re convulsing around his fingers is telling, crying and sobbing and squealing into the wallpaper while he angles your back down. His large palm presses into the small of your back, strong and firm as he pushes and pushes until you’re arching just right and exposed.

“Let me fuck you till I cum, be my toy,” You can barely hear him over your own sobs, shifting your weight between legs as you steady yourself. His cock slips in easy, smooth and wet and perfect. You missed this feeling the second it left, the fullness of his dick inside you. The curve of his long cock as it inches inside, the feeling of that one particular vein pulsing deep inside. “Gonna fuck you over and over. Yeah? Got that? Because you’re all mine.”

“Uh-huh, mhm,” You gasp, every inhale making you sputter and choke on your tears. “Yes, Sir.”

If you weren’t crying before you surely are now, with the sharp thrusts Leon’s pistoning into your hole, loud and sloppy and squelching as he backs you up on his cock. It’s like he’s mounted you, shoving your face into the wall as he slams into you. In and out, in and out, in and out…With every slap of his balls against your thighs you whine, small pitiful sounds escaping your lips until your voice goes hoarse and all you can do is weakly claw at the wall.

But you’ve been good, save for a few whiny noises and indiscreet pouting, you’ve been so good. So Leon lets your uninjured hand wander, even guides it down to your front as he fucks you from behind so hard it feels like you’re going stupid. You can’t see him like this, but you’d bet there’s a feral look on his face. Pupils blown wide as his red eyes focus on the view of his cock disappearing inside you, his brain short circuiting as it repeats the same code over and over.

Breed, breed, breed.

“Wanna breed you,” He rasps, strong arms pulling you the second he’s pulling out. No matter what, you’re full of him. You’re full of him even as his cock slides away, a trail of precum connecting the two of you as it froths between your thighs and his balls. “Can I fuck my cum into your sloppy little hole? Hm?”

“Course, f’course,” It’s all out the window, every possible thought you’d ever had about how uncomfortable it could be to be…preoccupied while on a mission. Because you want it, you want to be full. You want him to give it to you, deeper and harder and messier and… More. “..Please..”

“Nice of you to say, but,” He groans high in his throat, voice tight and heavy as his hips grow sloppy and weak. Yet, his cock still feels so heavy in your hole, makes you feel like you’re ready to burst apart at the seams. Leon’s fingers pull at your cheeks, slipping in your mouth and pulling at the skin until your mouth is forced wide, your tongue slipping from your mouth as you drool and cry. “I wasn’t really asking. You’d let me cum wherever I wanted, wouldn’t you? It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re cute when you go dumb on my dick.”

You can’t do this.

You tried, really. You tried your hardest, held it for as long as you could. But you’re already there, almost screaming on his dick as you flutter and clamp down on it, light beaming in your stomach as your body grows sensitive and weak. You’re cumming. And Leon’s hand around your throat doesn’t do anything besides aid it, the way you gush and whine around his cock despite his insistent thrusts. You can’t think, you can’t breathe, and it feels so fucking good.

“Jesus fuck, you take that cock so well. Such a good boy, my pretty slut,” Leon pulls you into him, pressing his chest against your back as he sinks his teeth into the base of your neck. Not enough to draw blood, no, just enough to leave a Leon S. Kennedy sized bite mark along your skin. “Tell me you love this cock, pretty baby. I know you can.”

“I love— ohhh — love your cock, Sir. M’so full.” Your twitching doesn’t cease, instead egging him on as your pretty little hole sucks him in deeper, holding him like a vice. Warm and slick, he can’t help but moan into your neck as his balls tighten and he cums.

“That’s it,” You watch him pant through the corner of your eyes, weighed down by fatigue, sex, and the entirety of today's ordeals. But at least the richness of his veins are beginning to clear up, and his pretty, arctic blue eyes are starting to resurface. You smile around a hearty moan, feeling your insides flood with warmth as his eyes flutter shut and his body shudders. “I could really get used to this.”

It’s hard and fast, much too fast for him to have pulled out to shoot across your back— no, he’s partially shot a thick, creamy rope inside you. His veins pulse at the thought, satiated with the sight of your fucked-out hole drooling with his cum.

“Oh… Fuck.”

He’s hard again.

[reloha]

Jacobi and McKellen as grand marshals of New York City's 2015 pride march.

All Good Omens (show) fans will know Derek Jacobi as the Metatron. His brief role on Doctor Who is also getting a lot of mention in recent posts, but I'm not going to talk about any of that.

Like his Vicious co-star Ian McKellen, Jacobi has had a long and illustrious career in theatre, television, and film. McKellen and Jacobi met when they were at Cambridge.

I'm not a huge fan of the Daily Mail, but this article, an interview with the two actors, is quite interesting. I'll just quote this part:

Jacobi says he came out to his mother when he was at university. ‘She said, “All young men, go through this phase, don’t worry.” I remember saying, “Don’t tell Dad.”’ He doesn’t know to this day if she did. ‘I think she did, but I don’t know. But they were wonderful, my parents, not much was said but they kind of knew, they got it.’

McKellen hasn’t heard his friend talk of this before. ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard that,’ he says, genuinely moved. ‘I never came out to my family. Biggest regret of my life.’ It turns out he didn’t even come out to Derek at university, even though it’s always been reported that he had something of a crush on him. 

‘Yes, I did fancy Derek, but I didn’t act on it, God, no. It was illegal, remember. I do get on my high horse about it, because it was so difficult. There were no gay clubs you could go to. No gay bars, no gay newspaper, nothing. What there was was a bit sleazy, I suspect. One of the reasons I became an actor was that you could meet gay people. Even then everything was difficult. When you went to America they asked, “Are you now, or have you ever been, homosexual?” I lied on the form. It was a different world.’

I want to talk about Vicious for a bit, the ITV britcom in which Derek Jacobi and Ian McKellen play an aging gay couple, (respectively) a homemaker, Stuart Bixby, and an actor, Freddie Thornhill, for fourteen episodes.

Freddie (McKellen) tells Stuart (Jacobi) about a part he's hoping to get.

I had to add these for the Broadchurch reference.

It's a law that British actors of a certain age play this part.

I couldn't find one with Michael Sheen and the skull, but here he is in the role.

McKellen did the part again at 81 in an age-blind production.

Jacobi's big breakout was the titular role in I, Claudius on the BBC in 1976.

In the '90s, Jacobi played amateur sleuth and 12th century monk, Brother Cadfael on the ITV series.

I had watched some of Vicious before, but, spurred on by Jacobi's reappearance on Good Omens, looked for it again and watched both seasons a couple of weeks ago. Because I love a good fancast and Jacobi and Sheen (at least as Aziraphale) remind me a little of each other, I couldn't help but think that Jacobi and McKellen in their youth could have played a version of Aziraphale and Crowley. (There have been a couple of posts noting this about Jacobi, and that he might have been up for the part if it had been done soon after the book came out.)

Jacobi, left, and McKellen, right (obviously).

I also think that Tennant and Sheen could have pulled off playing Freddie and Stuart in a flashback.

An even younger version of Freddie and Stuart does appear in the series, however, played by Luke Treadaway and Samuel Barnett.

Also good casting! They do a great job playing McKellen and Jacobi playing Freddie and Stuart.

Shoutout to this post by @ember-knights, that suggested Good Omens fans should check out Vicious for a glimpse of what life in the South Downs cottage might be. And also to other posts mentioning Vicious and Good Omens in the same breath, as well as comparing Sheen and Tennant to Jacobi and McKellen (which I probably reblogged but can't find right now).

Cast of Vicious: Frances de la Tour, Iwan Rheon, Philip Voss, Ian McKellen, Derek Jacobi, Marcia Warren (Wikipedia). (Yes, the upstairs neighbor (Rheon) does go on to play Ramsay Bolton on Game of Thrones. He's a sweetheart in this, though.)

Now, I don't think Crowley and Aziraphale are the same as Freddie and Stuart, by any means. Freddie and Stuart say quite cruel things to each other. The characters become deeper in the second season; it’s a little sweeter than the first. I enjoy the bitterness of the first season too, though. It is funny, and Good Omens fans may enjoy watching it if only to see Derek Jacobi (who plays the Metatron) in a comedy role and a role that's sympathetic, especially if they are not familiar with his large and impressive body of work.

I don't think Aziraphale and Crowley's life in the bookshop as a couple, not just a group of two, or life on the South Downs, would be exactly like this, but there are somehow some similarities that I don't even know how to begin to pinpoint or explicate.

Crowley and Aziraphale’s affection is always so palpable and that’s not always clear with Freddie and Stuart. Crowley and Aziraphale are so loving that, even when they're bickering, it's joyful, even when they're arguing, even when they're coming apart (temporarily) at the seams, their love is undeniable. I don’t even think their breakup was toxic; although they were desperate at that point and hurt each other badly, it wasn't what they wanted. Sometimes it's that way.

And, lest I'm putting you off Vicious here, the Ineffable Husbands are a high bar as love stories go, but you will get to see some love and affection between Freddie and Stuart too, and I'd really love to see these actors work together more. (I am happy with how the show ends up, by the way.)

Toodle-loo! Hope everything is tickety-boo with you.

[icedbatik]

After @coffee-at-annies reblogged this post with some truly amazing tags, I had questions. Because I either never knew that detail or it somehow completely slipped my mind, but ...

The tags: #pride 2024

#least the mascots show up

#I mean iceburgh is marching for himself I’m pretty sure he’s still married to Stanley C Panther

She generously provided me with a link to this video, from the 2022 NHL All-Star weekend in Las Vegas, which provided me with these screengrabs:

Iceburgh pops the question and Florida mascot Stanley C Panther says "Yes!"

I didn't screengrab it but, after the wedding at a Las Vegas chapel, the blushing bride tossed the bouquet. It was caught by the LA Kings' mascot, Bailey!

[greedyhoneyz]

We’ll Get There Soon

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: dad!kylian mbappé x reader

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: kylian’s daughter doesn’t care much for football or the cameras.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･cw: none.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･authors notes: i really struggled to write this idk why but it’s finally done.

In front of the cameras, under the blazing glare of frantic fans, Kylian upheld a stature, brimmed with pride and opulence. From the halls leading to the pitch, Kylian held his chin up and stared ahead. On the field he was a warrior, a beast, a hero— but today, he was a father.

Gently cradled in his arms, Kylian held his daughter. She was quiet, except for the few cooes that escaped her mouth as her big eyes scoped her surroundings, her little hand gripping the shoulder of his shirt.

She wasn’t familiar with the surroundings of a football stadium. Sure, she had sat through a couple of games in the security of her mother’s once swollen stomach. But throughout her first fourteen months of living, she had yet to breathe in the air of bitter rivalries and competition— until today.

Today would be the first time the public would catch a glimpse of his little girl. Kylian held a tight lease on his private relationships, and now his blooming family. But after much discussion with (name) and himself internally, it was accepted that this day, father’s day, was the right day to display his pride and joy.

“Look,” Kylian spoke softly to his daughter. A tender hand rubbed the small of her back as he pointed to the field ahead. Light glimmered through the tunnel, a gentle breeze wafting in. “Nous allons la-bas.” (We’re going out there.)

Following her father’s hand, her eyes trailed towards the end of the tunnel. She blinked blandly at the seemingly empty setting meters away and slumped her head against Kylian’s shoulder. She muttered his name and began to fiddle with his ear whilst Kylian smiled in retort.

The march onto the pitch was a march filled with anxiousness and excitement. Though his daughter was much too young to understand the semantics of his career, the moment his foot grazed against the astro field, pride stood on his shoulders.

Each team stood on either side of the other, their chins tilted heavenward. The stadium above, hollering and chorusing at the men below.

Worried her ears were ringing at the echoes bellowing from the stands above, Kylian spared a glance at his daughter. He pressed his hand to her cheek and carefully examined the side of her face.

Like her father, a neutral expression settled on her features. Her eyebrows rested, unnerved by the chants, her tiny lips pressed together in hard line. Her big eyes scanned across the pitch, ogling the ball hooked underneath the referee’s armpit and gaped at the dots of people above her.

(name) was a speck amid dots. She sat amongst the other wives and girlfriends and stared down at the pitch with careful eyes and a warm smile.

She fidgeted in her seat, her teeth grazing her bottom lip and jiggled her foot anxiously. From what she could see from her seat, her daughter appeared calm.

She clung onto Kylian, her arm tightly wrapped around his neck as her free hand wandered across his face.

Jerking his head away from his daughter’s curious fingers, Kylian grabbed her hand. His large fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled it to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand tenderly and proceeded to lean down onto his side.

Kylian shifted his daughter from his hip to his chest, grasping her from underneath her arms. In the air, he dangled her carefully before gently settling onto the pitch floor.

Once her feet were planted onto the floor, she began to whinge. She shook her head desperately and frantically scored her hands around her father’s leg, pressing her cheek against his calf. She tugged at his shorts, her eyes beginning to well up, and mewled at him exasperatedly. “Papa.”

She peered up at Kylian with blue and despair clung to her heart as he stared on. His arms lay pressed against his back, rattling, as his gaze flickered between the stands and his toddler.

Kylian held his breath, his nostrils flared and rocked from side to side. He adjusted his sight to his daughter, unease crawling across his skin and shut his eyes.

His sight waded in complete darkness as the whines and cries that escaped his daughter resounded through his ears and tore at his heart. A few seconds passed before Kylian succumbed to his guilt and opened his eyes.

Exhaling deeply, Kylian bent forward and extended his arms. He heaved his daughter from the floor to his chest, her whines beginning to fade and held his hand to the back of her head, pressing a long kiss to her ample cheek.

His daughter smiled, enraptured by her father’s soothing touch and tucked her head into the crook of his neck, her curious fingers settling into the back of his shirt.

Like her father, she looked on from beneath the shadow of his jaw and watched silently as the stadium gawked down at her. She caught a glimpse of a few faces, taking in their shocked expressions, their shaky hands and quizzical stares. It was all new to her, and scary— and yet after a few more seconds of exploring, she grew disinterested, so she turned her head and focused her attention onto the clothing tag caught between her fingers.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"My Boy" (1973-1974)

Recorded on December 13, 1973 at Stax Studios, Memphis · Released on March 20, 1974 · Album: Good Times

MUSICIANS Guitar: James Burton, Johnny Christopher, Charlie Hodge. Bass: Norbert Putnam. Drums: Ronnie Tutt. Piano & Organ: David Briggs, Per-Erik Hallin. Vocals: Kathy Westmoreland, Mary (Jeannie) Greene, Mary Holladay, Susan Pilkington, Voice, J.D. Sumner & The Stamps. OVERDUBS Guitar: Dennis Linde, Alan Rush. Percussion: Rob Galbraith. Piano: Bobby Ogdin. Organ: Randy Cullers. Vocals: Ginger Holladay, Mary Holladay, Mary Cain.

RELEASES In March 1974 "My Boy" was first released on the album "Good Times", and in January 1975 the song came out as Side-A single (backed with "Thinking About You".

The master of “My Boy” was lengthened by splicing on a repeat of the last section.

"MY BOY" — LYRICS Songwriters: Bill Martin/Phil Coulter/Claude Francois/Jean-Pierre Bourtayre You're sleeping son, I know But really, this can't wait I wanted to explain Before it gets too late For your mother and me Love has finally died This is no happy home But God knows how I've tried Because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy I know it's hard to understand Why did we ever start? We're more like strangers now Each acting out a part I have laughed, I have cried I've lost every game Taken all I can take But I'll stay here just the same Because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy Sleep on, you haven't heard a word Perhaps it's just as well Why spoil your little dreams Why put you through the hell Life is no fairy tale As one day you will know But now you're just a child I'll stay here and watch you grow Because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy Because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy Yeah, because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy Oh, because you're all I have

--

TAKES · FROM FIRST TO MASTER

THE TAKE 2 Studio Sessions for RCA · December 13, 1973: Stax Studios, Memphis Please, read what Ernst Jorgensen says about the moment "My Boy" was being recorded, and listen to the take. -- The next night Elvis began with a song from his live repertoire, “My Boy,” which had been included in the August Las Vegas show. The song told the traumatic tale of losing a child through divorce, but Elvis wanted to be done with it fast. When Felton pushed for a third take, he exploded: “I told you to get this goddamn thing in two takes. I can’t sing it no more.” Take three was actually better; it lacked the long fade out Felton wanted, but he knew better than to ask for another, confident that he could loop it in mixing to get the effect he wanted. Excerpt: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998) -- So, when I first read this part of Jorgensen's book I hadn't listen to that take yet, but now that I did I don't take Elvis' comment as "he exploded", do you? If that was Elvis exploding, I have to reconsider a lot of the stories about his supposed short-tempered moments. Just saying. He sounded pretty like just casually commenting rather than snapping at Felton like the description of the moment made it look like. Still, I personally think that comment came for a reason, maybe EP was too polite - or too embarrassed - to show how affected by the lyrics of that song he was. Below is the take two alone, if you prefer to go straight to the point go to min. 3:50.

Elvis and Lisa Marie Presley at Baptist Memorial Hospital in Memphis, TN, on February, 1968. ♥

I must have been the only person in the fandom who hadn't seen this picture before. So cute! I'm meltinnnggg! Is it real? Looks edited, IDK. Anyway, what are your thoughts about Elvis' recording of My Boy? Do you think it had a meaning to him?

[no1tolerateitfan]

i sit and watch you reading with your head low...

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welcome to my girlblog!

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im a girl who loves...

pasta , shoes , fancy dresses , swans , jane austen , fashion , affirmations , grwms , hector fort , fruit salads , history , rome , mason thames , christmas , picnics , brandy melville , spain , navy blue , pink , snow , music , reading , winter , ivy leagues , fc barcelona , evermore , romcoms , coffee , emma chamberlain , models , concerts , any march , period films , the idea of motherhood , adam brody , traveling , brunettes , vogue magazine , nyt games , staying in , autumn , birthday parties , rhode , my family , the sturniolo triplets , france , doing my hair , learning new words , making new friends , nara smith , daydreaming , piercings , my boyfriend , being on dnd , shopping , matcha , setting goals , vanilla everything , summer roberts , real estate , concerts , stuffed animals , girlbloggers , healthy lifestyle , makeup , flowers , animals , halloween , starbucks , early mornings , etc<3

fangirl favorites

spotify deep dive;

gracie abrams , taylor swift , olivia rodrigo , sabrina carpenter , chappell roan , madison beer , lana del rey , clairo , billie eilish , lizzy mcalpine , noah kahan , maisie peters , laufey , role model , phoebe bridgers , harry styles , reneé rapp , mitski , tate mcrae , cas , paramore , boygenius , beabadoobee , niall horan , conan gray , billy joel , the neighbourhood , fleetwood mac , ethel cain , marley brown , arctic monkeys , abba , the cranberries , alessi rose , mazzy star , zach bryan , chris stapleton , ariana grande , avril lavigne , mckenna grace<3

film files;

little women , la la land , the princess diaries , lady bird , 10 things i hate about you , 13 going on 30 , pretty woman , 27 dresses , the devil wears prada , scream , when harry met sally , call me by your name , 500 days of summer , how to lose a guy in 10 days , notting hill , runaway bride , clueless , priscilla , a rainy day in new york , midnight in paris , corpse bride , the perks of being a wallflower , black swan , dead poets society , harry potter , narnia , enola holmes , beautiful boy , pride and prejudice , the notebook , the proposal , mamma mia , dirty dancing , grease , the parent trap , white chicks , ella enchanted , sixteen candles , she's the man , miss congeniality , my girl , the virgin suicides , the edge of seventeen , the amazing spiderman , mean girls , legally blonde , thirteen , breakfast at tiffany's , girl, interrupted , twilight , uptown girls , star wars , heathers , old disney<3

tv show archive;

grey's anatomy , gossip girl , gilmore girls , the oc , one tree hill , one day , friends , derry girls , baby , pretty little liars , anne with an e , how i met your mother , the office , criminal minds , supernatural , tsitp , bones , the flash , outer banks , suits , stranger things , you , the crown , emily in paris , satc , agggtm , jane the virgin , the vampire diaries , scream queens , supergirl , killing eve , glee , teen wolf , b99 , boy meets world , dawsons creek<3

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please please please reach out to me if we have the same interests , need to chat , or wanna be moots, i love meeting new ppl and being able to interact with you guys. my sideblog is @vani11alattes , if you wanna check it out! xoxo💗

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i am catholic , pro-palestine , and do not support russia. i don't typically talk about these topics, but if you don't agree with my views and beliefs , simply do not interact with me. thank you!

[nemo-in-wonderland]

(..............)

“Twins?” “Twins. A boy and girl.” Ximena answered, before turning her loving eyes to the two small bundles she kept against her breast. A smile touched her full lips, the pride undeniably written on her face at the sight of the two sleeping children. Dark of hair and sun-kissed skin, with rosebud lips and puffy cheeks that appeared to be made just to be covered in gentle loving kisses: two small cherubs sent to her from the heavens above to quell the sadness of her soul. The woman felt her heart swelling in her chest with such intensity, for a moment she was sure she couldn’t breath. They were both perfect. The girl briefly opened her eyes as a hiccup left her small mouth, a hiccup that was soon bound to become a shriek of necessity. “Mark my word, Ximena, that nena has the dark side of the moon within her,” the matriarch said while taking the baby girl in her experienced arms, starting to pacing and patting on her back to lull her back to sleep. But even when the old woman started to crone a melody of an ancient time, the baby girl would not stop her whimper of protest. “This one, instead, is a hijo de la luna llena,” the young mother cooed at the still asleep baby boy. With delicate finger, she caressed the bridge of the baby’s nose and his head of dark leonine hair. “Peaceful as a quiet night of plenilune indeed,” she murmured, her smile widening even more. “You are lucky that their father’s mark is nowhere to be found on their small faces, and instead they favour you.This will make things easier for them...and for all of us.” (….)

A small WIP for you all tonight, before going to sleep.

This is actually a VERY old artwork, that I started in *checks info on CPS* March last year, but I never truly got the occasion to finish (or rather, I was HYPER frustrated with my lack of skill to render justice to the artwork and my beloved brainchildren).

I remember seeing a statue of Latona with Apollo and Artemis and IMMEDIATELY striked me as the perfect inspiration and reference for my brainchildren.

And, while unfinished, it still gives me so many emotions so, I decided to share it with you as well <3

So here you have Ximena with her two most precious jewels: Mathias and Antoine 🥹💓🥹💓🥹💓

I honestly want to work some more on my Unity stuff, because I have so many things to develop still, and the way I love the De Beaumont is IMMENSE.

IMMENSE.

(also, omg I was all squealing while drawing baby Mathias and Baby Antoine!! like KYAAAAAAH. SWEET BEBES. SWEET PERFECT BEBES.)

(also fml I need to recalibrate my screen because the colours are all fucked up :/)

Well, I hope you will like this! <3

--Nemo