#lol have to clarify they have no idea who i am

[relaxxattack]

#dave strider and schrodinger's bisexuality #people are mad at this for no fuckin reason lol #dave is probably bisexual technically but he defines his sexuality and gender in the vaguest possible terms #ask him his sexuality and he will talk at you for 20 minutes and ultimately not give you a solid answer #but by that point you're confused and ready for him to stop talking already so you just let it go #dave defining his sexuality in the epilogues: #“a gay homosexual who only consumes homo ass snacks delivered right to my mouth by a big queer butler” #“technically 30% to 70% gay” #he literally says “i know the word bisexual exists btw im just choosing not to use it here” #and after years of being with jade in the candy timeline he says to obama “i think im gay” #i can imagine dave having the same issues with the term bisexual that i do #first of all it sounds way more concrete than it actually is and often gives people a very specific idea of what you are attracted to #there's a huuuge amount of diversity to bisexuality but it's frequently lost bc nobody's gonna explain the details every single time #so you end up with people defaulting to “ok bisexual = 50% women 50% men” #meanwhile a term like gay is “technically” specific but so broadly used that it's easy to insert ambiguity into it #“im so gay” etc is used by people all over the sexuality spectrum #calling yourself gay CAN be specific but can also mean “i am some manner of queer” #which leaves room for you to explain if you want or keep it intentionally vague #not to mention it's usually way more fun and impactful to use the word gay than bisexual #it's such a mood killer to have to clarify that you're bi when you talk/joke about being gay #also tbh i think dave's feelings on sexuality are practically inseparable from the way he was raised #his hangups have to do with being “GAY” so he's gonna call himself GAY gdi! #ok essay over whoops

-- via @the-troll-book-of-mormon

holy shit, it's like you plucked the words straight out of my brain. this is exactly what i was trying to get across. thank you so much

dave strider will walk around calling himself the gayest gay man alive and everyone’s like ohhh but he loves women. and the thing is he does. but he’s gay about it. you understand.

[qoldenskies]

Babagril I adore clipped wings and you are feeding my insatiable hunger for heavy angst and impeccable writing but I am a littol concerned about how fast you're putting chapters out recently. I know they've been on the shorter side compared to the beginning but plase don't push yourself too hard okies? We can wait, I just don't want you getting burnt out or something :(

Also you are so meanies to us why must Donnie constantly go through the horrors its the fic ive always craved and I am sobbing, thank youuu

hey hey im fine!! i should probably clarify that im genuinely just a fast writer and im. yknow. an unemployed 18 year old who doesnt have much to do other than stuff like this, and im fed and moved along by all the praise and kindness. you dont have to worry about me!! honestly a HUGE thing im aiming for while writing CW is the joy of getting to complete something, i actually crank these chapters out in like a sitting if im in a good mood LOL (theyre kind of scrappy, but im trying to combat my perfectionism. pretty much every time ive said im gonna take a bit i find myself too excited to, ive got a big hyperfixation on CC at the moment and all of the good reception has gotten me even more hyped bghdghfh. you have NO idea how much i stare at the fanart you guys have made for me ily....). for my next project i plan on writing a lot in advance and pacing myself better (especially because i want to do longer chapters for it), but for CW im happy to just speed through!!

^^ helped along by the fact that im trying to avoid making chapters long for the sake of it now. i dont really have a goal in mind for wordcount with this next set, because i think i want to think in what progresses more than that

and thank you!! teehee the thing i want to move to next is so much sillier but i do enjoy taking a real good dip into The Horrors....... not sure where i'll be going after wwww but its planned to be a HUGE undertaking anyway. but i will probably be returning to the horrors. and maybe CVD ive missed her my love

[erinwantstowrite]

i vaguely remember you making a post about this forever ago but i can’t remember it - BUT i want to get back into writing but i don’t want to use google docs (ai my beLOATHED) so i was just wondering what program(s?) you use to write or if you have any recommendations for beginners

thanks!! always love to see when you post :]]

i used to LOVE google docs because it was a free application and it works so well, so when i found out it was training ai with our writing i was SO betrayed,,,, now, as far as i can tell, the program i use, Reedsy, doesn't use ai nor trains with it. it's free to use and doesn't have "premium" or "pay to use" features. it has an easy enough interface to understand, though it lacks the options with colors and fonts and highlighting that google docs allows- which is fine, because Reedsy is technically for getting your book ready to publish. the exporting part of the program is for print ready pdfs (has an epub option) which are formatted for publishing your book in a physical format. it doesn't have a page option (that i can find) and is endless scrolling, and there are a couple of glitches. but it's still better than google docs and they're still working through stuff and asking for feedback. you can also find potential editors on the site, but if you're writing for a fic you might want a friend to help you with that

i will say that for this program, it's recommended to split a chapter after 20k words or it gets difficult to work with... i found this out because i am... me. and i wrote like 40k in a chapter and the program was so annoyed with me 😭. also don't use the outline part of the program unless you somehow like it

but yeah!!! i recommend it for everyone and it's not too hard for beginners to use!! i might make a tutorial one day or a more extensive post about Reedsy. i know a few people have been asking for a tutorial on krita so i might as well bring Reedsy in too

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

while I don’t think I really ship them, I am a huge fan of the idea that Ryuji was Ren’s bi awakening

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

Am i gonna use the heisenberg uncertainty principle in my anthropology essay in which i need to refer back to my own discipline which happens to be the exact opposite of quantum physics? You bet i am

[cici-sunshine]

I just had (in my opinion) a fucking amazing idea for a story after looking at this post (which is amazing by the way)

Okay just imagine this… Sukuna x Reader but with the AU in which sukuna is yuijs older brother.

So now there are two different “scenarios”

1. Sukuna and Yuji have a relatively small age gap. You’re one of Yujis closest friends and hang out at his pretty often. Yuji is just such a sunshine, just a positive person in general. His older brother how ever not so much. He’s just a troublemaker through and through. He got his face pierced, smokes and even got some tattoos behind his parent’s back (also may I add he’s 100% a biker or drives an amazing black car). Sukuna and Yuji have a pretty typical sibling relationship. They both care for each other but don’t get along that well (typical around that age I guess). You first meet Sukuna when you have a sleepover at Yujis house. He invited you (and Megumi and Nobara) because his parents were gone for the weekend. At around 2 am you still lay awake on the mattress in the living room, the others are already fast asleep. Suddenly you hear the jiggling of keys in front of the door. At first you’re scared, cause who the hell is at the door at this hour. Then the door opens and Sunkuna in all his glory is standing just a few feet away from you…

The second scenario is 100% inspired by THIS

2. This time Sukuna and Yuji have a big age gap alright. So you’re in Sukunas class. You don’t necessarily get along that well but you’re not on bad terms either. You both just don’t acknowledge each others presence more than necessary I guess. Everyone is living in the dorms except for Sukuna. At first everyone wondered why and some even came up with the weirdest theories as to why. The school year is almost at its end so that means it’s time for a school trip. Everyone is excited except for Sukuna. That wasn’t necessarily weird considering that he never showed his emotions much in general. What made you suspicious is the fact that he stayed behind after class to talk to the teacher (Gojo duh) even tho he’s usually the first one out the door at the end of class. Being the curious person you are, you stay behind too and eavesdrop on their conversations. Sukuna says something about not being able to go to the school trip and the teacher knowing why. To which the teacher only responds with words of understanding and support. That only confuses you even more. You follow Sukuna home (Funking stalker tf) because you’re determined to find out what he’s hiding. You follow him thinking he’ll just go straight home or to some shady place of sorts. But to your surprise he heads to a kindergarten!? You wait outside just to see him walk out of there with a much smaller copy of him. Only problem is that this small copy is looking directly at you. You quickly try to walk away and act like you’re just there by accident, but it’s too late. The little guy is pointing directly at you and before you can really react you can hear Sukuna say “what the hell are you doing here?!”…

Okay so that was that lol. Im so sorry for my grammar English is not my first language.

Do these “scenarios” have fanfic or oneshot potential or am I literally the only one that’s a sucker for big bro sukuna

I’d love to write a whole fic about the second one because I have literally so many ideas but I’m not sure if it would be good or if literally anyone would enjoy it haha.

I’m always open for feedback, suggestions and responses 🩵

[also just to clarify in advance I’m sure this isn’t that much of a original idea but I’d still love to write something like that (maybe lol)]

~Rules~

[spasmsofthought]

starlight (legolas x reader)

A bit (or a lot) philosophical. Indirect allusions to depression/melancholy. Please take care reading and take care of yourself.

IDK word count LOL but not super long, I think.

This idea has been in my drafts for a while, but inspiration came this evening. I hope it's executed well for you. I haven't felt so creative in such a long time and this piece was such a treat to write.

Enjoy and please let me know what you think! Please like, comment, and reblog xo

+++

“My friend, what ails you?” Legolas has not been sure of you, try as he might.

Even though it is just the beginning of the Fellowship’s journey, you walk already battle-weary. You are heavy, it seems, in comparison to your fellow human companions. Aragorn nor Boromir carry themselves this way. Even Frodo, despite the responsibility he carries, retains some of the Hobbit carefree way. It had caused Legolas to wonder, apprehensively in the beginning, if it was the Ring. The more he watched and waited, the more clear it became that it wasn’t. Relief then became mixed with confusion, for if it wasn’t the Ring, what could cause such weight for you to carry? The brief conversations he has shared with you so far have not provided him further insight.

You turn towards him from where you sit. Your face is not unhealthy in anyway, but your eyes are not bright. There is something deep in them for which Legolas does not have the words to explain. You are close enough to be seen from camp, but far enough away that no one has had the heart to disturb you. It is a quiet evening, but even as he approaches, there is something that mixes in with the stillness that is foreign to him.

“Hello, Legolas,” He stands for a moment, unsure. “Please, you are welcome to join.”

You pat the stone next to you as if it is an inviting cushion. It is not.

“Thank you for your inquiry. I am only sad, Legolas.” Your hands settle in your lap. Legolas grows even more confused. Often human weep to express their grief, in his understanding. He has not seen, or heard, you cry once.

You clarify after a moment, sighing and then glancing at him. “There is no cause for it, unfortunately. Otherwise I would ask aid of our Fellowship. It is simply a—” You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. It takes your brain a short time to unscramble to find something suitable, “condition I endure.”

“The understanding of the complexity of human nature escapes me at this time.”

You laugh is small, “It confounds me often.”

There is a moment, halfway between awkward and friendly, in which you sit together. Trying to explain your feelings to an Elf has not been something anyone ever thought to prepare you for.

Legolas has been an intimidating individual to try and engage for yourself. It has been your own inexperience and reluctance that has caused some of your avoidance of him. Elves had been figures of myths and folklore in the small village where you had been raised. To confront your youth’s inadequate tales against a far different reality has already been mentally exhausting. You always thought Elves would be the kind of stern and serious beings that immortality seemed to produce. Instead, Legolas was often cheery, reveling in merriment.

“There is a type of sadness for humans,” You try to explain. Legolas pays attention, “that can come for us regardless of circumstance or atmosphere. It is different than missing one’s family or saying goodbye, and it is hard to explain and justify even amongst my own kin. What I am feeling now is not something that carries a name for my people; there are a lot who do not try to understand. Some types of human sadness come and go. This type of sadness can be long-lasting. I carry mine with me, it seems, no matter what I go. It stays, though I do not ask it to.”

There is a little bit of shame to your countenance it seems to Legolas, as you glance down at your hands. You are meek in the fading light of the evening.

Legolas is not sure he has seen someone who looks as human as you do, against the backdrop of the trees and earth.

“Your mind seems fragile,” He says.

His words come as a frank observation, although gentled in tone. It is a paradox for something so piercing to be soft. Legolas takes great care to not offend you, even now. You would be offended if another of your race said the same, but there’s something about the way the words come from his mouth that do not make them a personal affront. These words do not seem to change whatever opinion he has of you. (An opinion that seems more positive than one you would give of yourself to him.)

“I suppose you could say that,” Your eyes drift up again to look at the dark sky, small glinting stars beginning to appear through the cracks of the trees. “Most human minds are fragile in some way, I think. We are not made to endure the long passing of time the same as you and your race. We are more effected… more vulnerable, I think. Or rather, vulnerable in different ways.”

Your words are met with Legolas’s silence. The light-hearted elf has turned contemplative. “The burden of human life is not what I have thought it was.”

“I don’t think I quite fully understand it either, thought I bear it,” You respond, lips quirking to the side for a moment. As they meet yours for a short time, Legolas’s eyes shine in the dark. “Although I fear comparison will still leave us lacking. I know little of what it is to be an elf, but I know you and your kind carry grief of your own. It is hard for me to conceive of what it must like to see so much, for so long, and still remain so physically unchanged.”

Legolas hums but then chooses to say nothing about the subject.

“I love the stars,” You say after a brief pause. Legolas does not object, so you continue to talk. “Even in the darkness, when I have had no one else with me, they have comforted me. Sometimes, like tonight, when my heart pulls me inward, they seem to whisper to me and cause my gaze upward.”

There is a companionable silence that follows. You sit next to Legolas, he next to you, as you stare up at the stars glittering across the black expanse of the night.

There is scant touch that comes across your cheek, like a breeze against your skin. A brief warmth follows, fading as quickly as it comes. As you turn your face, Legolas’s hand comes to rest against his side. Your eyes meet and he nods towards the forest path that leads to the camp where the others rest. His gaze is soft on your face.

You don’t think anyone has looked at you as he is now.

“Sleep, ithildin nîn.” You do not know what the words mean but they feel as a balm does, only for your heart and not for your body. “I will keep watch.”

For a little while, you hold his eyes. Legolas does not shy away even though he does not know what the immediate future holds; though he does not know what will become of you, or of him. You nod at his words, gathering your things and standing. You feel his gaze, even through the path you take to camp, on you until you fall asleep.

~~~~

Translation: Ithildin nîn — my starlight.

[prettyoddfever]

I just wanted to say, I love your blog. You post so much information that’s not only interesting, but also validating, as someone who sees 24/7 misinterpretations of the band’s history on TikTok (I have an account where I post edits there). I first became active in the Panic fandom literally as the band was splitting up, which was just /amazing/ lol, but I took a huge step back from fandoms/online communities related to my interests when I started college. I recently came back around a year or so ago, because I enjoy making edits and wanted to indulge in my interests again, only to find out that 90% of Panic-related content online has just been overrun with misinformation/Brendon-haters etc. It was honestly jarring for me because so many of the things people claim as evidence of Brendon being horrible (That he assaulted and abused Ryan, that the band split up because Brendon forced Ryan out, that Ryan was basically forced out of the frontman role, etc…), are just so crazy to someone who knows that’s just not accurate! Your blog has reassured me that I am not crazy and the way I remember things is not a figment of my imagination lol. Even though I was very young when some of these things were happening, my older sister was OBSESSED with Panic and I was into whatever she was into, haha, we still reminisce to this day. I have been literally harassed on TikTok for commenting “in defense” of Brendon Urie underneath a post where someone insisted that every time he got near Ryan on stage, it was without Ryan’s consent. I knew that Brendon had “got cancelled” but I had no idea that people were that serious about it… When half of the things they claim aren’t even real. I know it’s not their fault that they’ve consumed misinformation, but there is no changing people’s minds, even with evidence, which is sad to me. It really sucks that newer fans of the band have such a bitter, twisted narrative around the band’s early eras and the split. But so many of the things they reference happened before they were probably born, yet they swear they’re more knowledgeable than someone who was kinda there…

Anyway, I’m sorry for the wall of text, I just needed to get that out and I really appreciate the time and effort you put into your blog! Not only is it just fun to read, but it really takes me back to my growing-up years, and it’s refreshing to see a take on PATD that’s more “normal” in my eyes.

You put this so well oh my goodness. 100% yes to everything you said. I've heard similar things from some other returning fans over the past couple years and I just relate to all of it so much. I mentioned at the bottom of this post how I drifted away from the Panic fandom for about a decade and coming back was so confusing at first. But trying to wrap my mind around everything also helped me understand modern politics in a way, though? Like now I can see how it's totally possible that a large crowd of people can literally invent their own reality, readily believe whatever they hear in their echo chamber, and then willfully ignore facts, evidence, and firsthand accounts if those contradict the narrative they'd prefer to believe.

Sometimes I'm sad for some newer P!ATD fans who could easily spare themselves a lot of stress & perceived injustice by simply learning about the real band & members. But they're free to focus on whatever they want, I suppose. I'd rather spend my time focusing on fun memories and organizing my little Special Interest mess lol. I’m also happy to clarify stuff or try to answer questions if people are genuinely curious... it’s fun to see others who are interested. Anyways, I'm so glad you're still a fan of the band! Sorry it took me months to reply. And I love your wall of text because it means you care. 🧡

[nicromancytarot]

REGARDING THE “SCAM”

I’m not a confrontational person, and putting people of blast terrifies me lol. However a month after making this account someone (@/yzodkx) messaged me on the 10th of March asking me for an exchange. They don’t own a tarot account, they don’t even post on their blog, this was just someone who I assume was reaching out to tarot readers and asking for an exchange reading. This was my first exchange.

I gave them their reading first, it was quite short but helpful nonetheless, they gave me mine and all was well! I even started following this person back (although I only followed tarot readers) since I felt appreciative of receiving the reading.

After giving them the reading, they asked for a clarifying question which led to me giving them an entirely new reading as this wasn’t a yes or no, this was an in depth how someone’s intentions, which I couldn’t only gather the answer by pulling one simple card.

Two days later they asked me for another exchange which I was quick to agree to, I asked about my career and they asked about their future spouse, I received my reading first, thanked them and then gave them an a very in-depth reading about everything I could pick up for their future spouse (appearance, career, personality etc) after this, they did not thank me or say anything further about the reading. I asked if they would mind giving me a reading on my future spouse whenever they are free as they had already received three readings from me, and they had given me two in return.

(I blocked out the initials for privacy reasons!)

They agreed, then proceeded to ask if their future spouse was (insert initials) I gave them an answer, then they asked another question and I answered it.

I did not ask them 3 questions in return as I didn’t want to bother them since I already asked for the future spouse reading and didn’t want them to have too many questions to answer from me.

I have been ghosted by them for the past near month now, they didn’t reply to my answer when I gave it, but have been active, since as around two weeks after airing me, they changed their profile picture.

I do not care to argue with anyone, this is not me being petty, I have literally left it an entire month until now being told to talk about it by my friends lmao. The only reason I am putting this up is so other tarot readers who may get messages for an exchange from this person, will know what to be careful of. (I really wanted that future spouse reading too smh)

I don’t know if I’m just being dramatic lol, perhaps my crazy amount of words on their reading scared them, I have no idea. But I do not appreciate being made a fool, especially since I literally followed them and trusted them #rip

If I am being dramatic and making something out of nothing, I’ll take it down, just let me know!

Do not take advantage of smaller tarot reader accounts please and thank you!! We put a lot of time and effort into this stuff dawg.

[galexibrain]

Something, something ... parallels. When I was 10yo and watching DBZ for the first time, when it was first aired in Germany, this was my favourite scene in the entirety of DBZ, and it still is to this day:

When the people of Earth all give their energy for the final genkidama that's supposed to finish off Buu.

Linking the German version so you can experience the original soundtrack (I'm sorry, the US dub soundtrack (and the Kai soundtrack for the Buu Saga) can NOT measure up the glory of the original one, and I'm so grateful the German dub kept it):

I was (and am to this day) utterly in love with this particular track, so much that I simply needed to have it with me, at all times.

And here's how I got it in ye olden days before Youtube (well, before I had internet access and knew about YT to MP3 converting lmao):

I had this particular episode taped on VHS (I'm That Old)

I took my phone (Nokia that had the luxury of a COLOR display) and recorded the track. You could literally hear the people cheer on the recording

I put this recording on my phone and listened to it

Yes the quality was crappy. I didn't care

Now, I have it on my MP3 player lol. Still randomly listen to it sometimes <3

So, the things about DBZ that were the most formative to me are: this scene, and Vegeta (who started my love for reformed villains and redemption arcs).

Ok, this has nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make, I just needed to clarify just how emotionally invested I am here.

Now, two decades later, Super gives me this:

Moro Arc, DBS chapter 61

Do y'all understand what this did to me?! Do you even have the slightest idea what I am going through here?

They probably thought nothing of it, but back in the Buu Saga it was Vegeta who came up with the genkidama plan: to take the energy of everyone on Earth, and other planets too, to defeat an enemy too strong for any single person to handle.

Vegeta, the guy who's perpetually allergic to ask for help.

Now, it's Vegeta who does the opposite, and yet, the same: he takes energy that was stolen, and returns it to where it belongs, literally giving people their lives back in some cases. (The symbolism of the Namekians being the ones revived by him is CRAZY.)

And the imagery is so similar? I just. ??!?!?!?! HOW AM I TO DEAL.

ALSO:

DB ch. 515 & 516:

Goku receiving the energy from Earth, perfecting the genkidama, and he throws it.

And now:

Super, ch. 66:

That's the god ki Uub sent, and Vegeta is the one to throw it to Goku to give him the power he needs to end Moro.

And that power literally comes from the reincarnation of the very being they destroyed last time? OH WOW.

(Initially I wasn't so sure what to think about this particular point but hey, the D in Dragon Ball stands for Deus Ex Machina, so ... whatever.)

I'm like. Did they do this on purpose? Is this coincidence?

How am I supposed to be normal about any of this?

Also funny how Buu Saga was the whackiest in DBZ while Moro Saga in DBS is a goddamn fucking masterpiece.

[magnusbae]

look, I'm a basic bitch, I see “only one bed” on a prompt list, I send asks begging for dreamling fics

xo @hardly-an-escape

Listen, I am so not cheating, despite my not being active in the dreamling for a while, I am going by oRDER. Thank you so much for the message dear, I hope you're well 🥰💖

Dreamling || 402w || lil silly au lol :)

▾▾▾

''There's only one bed.'' Hob shakes his head in disbelief, the apologetic staff who had informed that there’s been a mistake with their room had tactfully omitted this part from her apologies.

Dream doesn’t seem to be as perturbed by the hotel’s mix-up, nor does he look like he’s about to throw a fit the way Hob half expected him to. He shrugs, a minor movement of his shoulders, and walks in to sit down on said bed. He doesn’t look worried, instead he flips his phone open and scrolls through what Hob assumes to be his work emails.

In fact, he seems a little too fine to Hob’s taste.

“You do realize that it means we’ll have to share? I’m not sleeping on the floor nor the bathtub, if that’s the crazy idea you’ve got up that pretty head of yours.” If it was anyone else, Hob wouldn’t have to clarify. Given the fact that this is Dream, or professionally known— Morpheus, he feels the need to make absolutely sure that he understands the situation.

That he, the CEO of his family’s business, is about to share a bed with the IT guy he decided to drag along for this trip. (Why?)(He did not deem anyone worthy of an explanation.) Hob feels that perhaps the great pay was worth skipping over, if only for the icy look he gets from Dream when he lowers his phone, looking perfectly unimpressed.

“That is glaringly obvious, Robert.” He says his full name with a roll of his tongue, a thing that doesn’t fail to make Hob’s skin itch. He used to think it was anger, but lately… he’s not that sure about it.

“Great, sure. Just making sure” he wipes his hands over his pants in a quick motion, looking around the room to not think about how he’ll be sharing bed with the guy he lowkey, highey, all keys wanted to fuck for the longer half of the past year. Bloody hell and heaven. God help him.

“Clearly” Dream rolls his eyes, in that implied manner of his, looking up briefly before he is glued back to his phone. What a pretty, annoying, horrible bitch. Hob is absolutely fucked.

“I’m hitting the shower first.” he doesn’t wait for the answer, escaping Dream’s company out of sheer self preservation. This is going to be a long trip indeed. God help him indeed…

[septembriseur]

i just went in for another reread of the old words, and it remains one of the most gorgeous and brutal character studies ever posted on ao3 dot edu lol. i have found myself thinking about it a lot recently, since it is so much about violence and survival and existential anxiety when one's country has basically ceased to exist and one's citizenship is toxic. your musings on that kind of victimhood/perpetration balancing act and the resulting power paradox have really clarified things for me. but it is quite a different experience to be reading it in october 2024 than it was to read it in may 2021. and i know that your own life has changed so much since then. i seem to remember you saying somewhere that you went into writing it with ethical questions, and writing it didnt answer those questions, but it got you closer. it would be interesting to see you do a postmortem on that fic now. only if you want to! much love.

Well, first of all, THANKS.

It's crazy reading that story and seeing how clearly ideas (or revelations?) were percolating that would become fully formed after August 2021.

In terms of the central moral statement, I think it holds up. Actually, I'm struck by the light it sheds on a struggle I've been having recently: how to explain to people why torture and collateral damage are wrong. (Yes, this is a real, practical problem I'm dealing with.) I find myself wanting to explore the idea more, particularly because I'm surprised by how much I really like the Zemo that I created. (I was so good at writing dialogue then!)

I suppose I also feel that I didn't too badly at communicating other things, because there are parts that I feel so much more strongly about now that I could almost cry reading them, even when they're a little heavy-handed.

There are definitely technical things about the story that I would change. I don't think I had a fully formed idea of what I thought Sokovia was, and that ended up developing in more detail in my subsequent WIP. (Somewhere I have an extraordinarily detailed timeline of Sokovian history.) I had a shallower understanding of almost all of the issues involved: what it means to live with a history of violence; what it means to have lost your homeland; what it means to be "developing." I also think that I was more cautious and less radical than I am now:

I'm struck, in particular, by how I felt the need to clearly signal (at least inasmuch as I ever clearly signal anything in my stories) that, while rape was used as a weapon of war by Sokovian forces, Zemo did not participate. This seems cowardly. I'm very troubled by the way that, in general, fic treats rape as a kind of moral horizon. Characters can torture, murder, even mass murder— commit a variety of other war crimes— but to rape makes one an Evil Person. This, of course, is crazy. The men who rape in war are just as banal as other war criminals. I can imagine a more effective and less popular version of this fic in which Zemo did use rape as a weapon of war, which is consistent with the historical examples I've drawn on, and must overcome that as well as the rest of his sins. In fact, I very much want to write that story— if only I could carve out the time to do it.

Somewhere inside me is a great truly radical postcolonial fic. Or, well, I have an original sci-fi novel that I've outlined that gets into some of the same issues, but really I'd love to write a truly savage Zemo fic, in part because I want it to be a commentary on the sanitized antipolitics of the MCU.

In summation: it's not perfect, but I still love it, and I wish I could write more.

[cupidskissx]

Thanks for the fics! Are you thinking about writing something Christmassy? If you use this ask for that, I wouldn't care...lol

kisses and happy new year

Hello sweet anon,

Happy belated Christmas to you and those that celebrate!

I started this yesterday with no intention or direction whatsoever. By some Christmas miracle it’s the first thing I’ve “finished” in 6 months. I hope you enjoy ~1k of something for you ❤️🎄

***

When Max’s phone vibrated on the glass-top table the last thing he expected to see when he turned it over was a notification from Charles Leclerc.

Merry Christmas 🎅

He stared at the simple message, unsure what to make of it. They hadn’t spoken since before Max missed their padel game — his previous one line apology left unanswered.

Twisting his wrist, he checked the time and did the calculation. He frowned, it would be past midnight in Monaco, he couldn’t reply and wish him a happy Christmas now.

He picked up his phone and excused himself from the conversation. He walked inside while opening Charles’ contact and clicking call. Max didn’t know why he felt so compelled to speak to him, but it was too late now, he was closing the door to the guest bedroom when Charles answered.

“Hey,” a muted rustle followed Charles’ greeting, likely him rolling over in his covers.

“Hey,” Max sat on the end of the bed. “How was your Christmas?” Max asked.

“Nice, how was yours?”

“Yeah, nice,” Max didn’t know what else to say, maybe calling wasn’t the best idea.

“That’s good,” Charles stifled a yawn, then he asked, “How’s Brazil?”

“Hot. How’s Monaco?”

“Chilly.”

“Checks out.”

“When do you get home?” Charles changed the subject, taking Max by surprise that he’d want to bother keeping up their stilted conversation.

“Err, in a couple of days.”

“We should catch up before I head to Maranello.”

“Really, why? Have you missed me?” Max joked.

“A bit. Which is weird.”

Charles was kidding, surely, Max was the one who was left on read, “How much did you have to drink today, mate?” Max laughed, until he registered Charles’ mumbled response.

“Not enough.”

Oh. Max laid back on the bed and stared at the crack running through the plasterboard ceiling.

“I guess I just miss racing,” Charles clarified, now that is something Max can relate to. He supposed he missed Charles too, in the same way he missed Sunday morning briefings. Because setting the strategy meant driving, and driving meant racing and racing had always meant Charles. Except Charles didn’t only mean racing. Not anymore.

“I really am sorry I missed that game.”

“No you’re not,” Charles was the one to laugh that time.

“Okay, not the match so much, but I am sorry that I let you down.”

Charles was quiet for a long moment, “How’s Kelly’s family?”

Max closed his eyes. “Most of them are drunk and diving into the pool, not the best combination.”

“No, not the best.”

“How’s your family? How’s Arthur, I heard he lost his seat?”

Charles rustled on his end of the line again, “Yeah, he’ll be okay, but it’s still shit. We tried not to talk racing at dinner and that helped.”

“And your mum?” Max asked. The vision of Pascale in his mind was still the one he formed at karting tracks when they were young. When Max was shorter than her and she’d bring a pack lunch in a wicker picnic basket, an old thermos full of coffee never far from reach. One miserable afternoon in Italy she’d let Max hold it to warm his hands while they waited for the rain to clear.

“She’s good,” Charles answered, “Having us all home together makes her happy.”

“Because she can keep an eye on all of you at once for a change?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Charles sounded like he was smiling, Max wouldn’t have sounded much different when he replied.

“My mum is the same, she’ll pop her head in to my room at 6am just to watch me sleep.”

“Mum has definitely walked into whichever room I’m in to make sure I haven’t evaporated if I’m quiet for too long.”

“Typical mums,” Max rolled his eyes fondly at the same time Charles said: “I guess we’re the lucky ones.”

“Yeah, we are,” Max agreed because Charles had a way of making him more honest with himself.

“Will you go see Sophie for Christmas?”

“I’m flying up after New Year’s.”

“So you’ll be in Monaco for New Year’s Eve?”

“If everything goes to plan. Will you?”

“Yeah, I don’t leave until the 3rd. You should come over, I’m doing a small get together, nothing crazy.”

“I’ll check and let you know.”

“Good.”

“And if I can’t make it?”

“Then I guess I’ll see you when the season starts.”

Max’s heart performed a peculiar acrobatic act against his ribcage. “You won’t be home in between?”

“Not really.”

“Well I suppose I do owe you a game before you leave, if it can’t be New Year’s.”

Charles all but giggled on his end of the line, “So now you want to play?”

Max opened his mouth, the words: no, I want to see you nearly tumbled out but he caught them before he had to think too hard about what they meant. “I wanna beat you,” he said instead.

“Naturally. We’ll see,” Charles said but Max didn’t appreciate the open-endedness.

“Afraid for a little one-on-one, we both know Tom carried you last time.”

“You talk big game for someone who lost.”

“Guess there’s only one way to—” there was a single knock on the bedroom door before it creaked open, “I better let you go.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, see you soon then.”

“Yeah, book a court and I’ll be there,” Max started to pull his phone away from his ear when he was called back.

“Max?” Charles asked, voice wavering.

“Yeah?” Max’s brow pinched as he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. Not quite ready to sit up.

“Get ready to lose again.”

Max snorted, “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming.”

“I will,” Charles was smiling again, “Night.”

“Night,” Max ended the call. He settled his smile into something less cheesy and pushed himself up onto his elbows to find himself alone in the room.

[whats-the-word-again]

An INTENSE reading with Lord Ares

Me: hmmmm, I wanna add to my worship of Lord Ares; I wanna do something a bit bigger this time... A digital Shrine!! (NOT a temple, I have neither the expertise or authority for that) Yeah that's a great idea! Better check with him first before I do though.

Me: [gets out my tarot deck, sets up a small offering and invites Ares into my space, thinking this will be a chill, short reading.]

Cards: lol wtf you actually suck why are you talking to me? You literally do everything wrong in life, you're so fucked.

Me: ????? Lord Ares????

Ares: Not me.

*Proceeds to pull the Tower and a MYRIAD of just Bad cards*

Me: [freaking out]- hello?? who is this and how can I make this up to you? What did I do wrong??

Me: Yknow what, lets start afresh..

[I ask for Lord Ares and Lord Ares ONLY to enter my space.]

Ares: I'm here! But not for long...

Me: ??

Ares: You don't need me anymore, it's time to let go...

Me: ??? I very clearly still need you- I don't want you to go :(( what?? what is going on?? please?? why are you being so ominous? is this a goodbye??

do my attachment issues show?

Ares: I'm just kidding lol. You should have seen your face.

Me: :0

Ares: This is your problem; you gotta stop jumping to conclusions. You need to take time to think things over. It's okay to get all the facts before believing anyting.

Me: ah.... so uh, did you want the E-Shrine then? (trying to get back on topic)

Ares: Really think about it, think it over. Organize it properly before you do anything, prepare it, don't have it just all over the place. And if after all that you still want to make it, then yes, you can go for it.

*He knows I make rash decisions that I struggle to commit to easily*

Me: Okay. so uh, was that you being mad at me earlier too?

Ares: Huh? No. I had nothing to do with that. But I think you know who it was.

Me: Lady Aphrodite... (for context [TW]; shes been trying to help me through one of my self-destructive behaviours and recently I kept telling her that I'd work on it but then I never did :/)

Ares: Yep.

*Insert me asking if I can post this ✨experience✨ to tumblr and he said yeah.*

Me: Any other message for me before I close up?

Ares: Reiterates that it was just a joke beforehand and that he's still here with me

Ares: I'm still here. I'm still here for you and I love you.

Me: What? :O

Ares: It's okay, you can say it back.

Me: I love you too Lord Ares. Thank you for your time :D

Overall experience? Most stressful reading I've ever had. Was it productive? Sure. Efficient? No.

30+ cards pulled 😢 (I lost track after 20 tbh)

I was exhausted after to say the least :,)

dividers made by @ vibeswithrenai

CLARIFYING - PLS READ !!

All of this is my reading and interpretation of the cards as well as intense gut feelings. This is just how I have interpreted the conversation; I cannot (sadly) hear or see the gods. I can slightly feel their presence, but I only have the thoughts and the feelings that come to me.

the casual language used is simply me, again, interpreting it into easier to convey language.

Lady Aphrodite was not actually threatening me or angry at me. You cannot GENUINELY anger the gods that easily. She was just, as Lord Ares was, trying to send me a message in a way that would catch my attention and that I'd listen

the 'I love you' exchange at the end is !NOT ROMANTIC!. whilst I do not have a problem with godspousing, i am a MINOR, Lord Ares knows this of course. Although I don't think I'd label it as a fatherly 'I love you', it is 100% NOT ROMANTIC or sexual or any kind. I am a minor.

[shawtythatluvsurgut]

What made you go from feeder/ffa to feedee?!

Also, what is your biggest feedism kink that really gets you going?

(before you read this, please know that nothing i said in response should be taken as me being upset with OP because i am not at all upset with this ask)

i’ll answer the bottom part in my video, but i want to address the top question because i received it more than once.

I am still a feeder. I am still a FFA. I’m a part-time feedee and FULL-TIME feeder.

I am not saying that i’m not a feedee because, I mean, cmon look at my page lol. but i am still a feeder first and foremost. that will never change. i decided to get into testing out the feedee role because i didn’t have anyone irl who i knew that was into feedism or even willing to try it. my last partner made me think he was into it for a bit, but then did a huge 180. it wasn’t until one of my close ‘friends’ (😏) and i started flirting a bit that i realized he was actually into the idea and it brought me back into feeder mode. just because i am dipping my toe into the feedee realm does not mean that i am not a feeder first, so please stop taking that title from me.

i know i have a lot to prove. between my dad’s health rapidly declining which led to my disney arc being cancelled and also my constant switch between feedee and feeder content, i know i’ve disappointed quite a few people recently. for that, i am sorry, but i also don’t regret spending that time with my ill father instead of making feedism content at disneyland ngl. i know a lot of people were pissed (i can tell by how many subs i lost) and i do feel bad and sincerely apologize, but life gets in the way of work at times and i needed to prioritize life in that moment. as for my indecision between being a feedee and a feeder, ive realized that im much more into the feeder role. i love eating and doing it for you all to enjoy which is why im not rejecting the feedee position and am still leaning into it, but i get much more pleasure from being a feeder. i’m much more into the dominance and control that i get as a feeder. however, i do like the plushness on my body that i obtained from being a feedee. i say this all to make the point that i still play both roles, but Feeder will always be my main role. it comes to me naturally and sometimes i have to force myself to be a feedee which can kinda ruin it over time.

also please keep in mind that i’m 21, so i’m still at an age where i flip flop between my sexual identity so so so frequently. I like being a feedee at times, but i always have and always will LOVE being a feeder. now that i have the december trip planned and have someone willing to let me feed them that i also happen to know really really well, im excited to get back into my feeder mode. i will probably switch between the two for a while, and i’m sorry if that annoys any of you.

also, just because i mainly feel like a feeder does not mean i am planning to get ripped or skinny again or any of that. i’m just not focused on gaining right now and haven’t had the appetite or $$ to do stuffings. i am not trying to lose weight; it is just happening naturally due to life circumstances. please stop messaging me accusing me of being a fake feedist or saying that im ‘intentionally getting skinny again’ because that is not true. i don’t care what my size is tbh, im comfortable in my body, i just have other priorities right now and a lack of appetite.

just please stop trying to imply that i’m no longer a feeder because that couldn’t be farther from the truth. it sucks having other people tell you who you are, especially when you’re still figuring that out for yourself. please keep that in mind.

thank you and ily guys. and NO I AM NOT MAD lol. i am not mad at this ask at all; just wanted to clarify what my role in this community is and that is full-time feeder/part-time feedee.

Thank you.

Nico

[1eoness]

uhmmmm actor leon kennedy?? mayvbe

cw: dom! ooc leon kennedy x sub afab reader | no specific leon | he's kinda weird here idk | creampie | praise | mild degradation | wee bit of size kink idk

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni}

a/n bc i love rambling : so uhmmm when i was writing this there was an electric explosion right outside of our house so the power's out in our neighborhood and im back in this damn cafe LMAOOO

a/n : (update lol)i wrote this like monthssss ago (wtf this sucks).. so im back nd im gonna post this bc why the fuck not it's still rllyyyy bad and a lot of word repeating but yeah just felt like posting lol

synopsis : actor!leon kennedy has been in the gig too long to deal with nepotistic, wide-eyed girls like you. yet much to his exasperation, you're just too much of a greenhorn in the showbiz world.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -you can fucking skip this part idc- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you've only ever heard his name maybe once or twice in one of the magazines in your mother's bar. you must've read it over and over again, having to see his name and face habitually to endure the excruciating hours of working behind the bar with your phone in a locker. you weren't particularly enthusiastic about films or Hollywood or WASP families, either. but it was better than nothing.

it started like this. you were wiping the cedarwood slab that dewed with beer, when the woman who sat across you (having drunk maybe 4 pints) reached over with her veiny, grisly hands. the acrylics tapped at your temples when she held your awkward face.

said "woman" was your aunt who just got back from monaco. and she's been urging you to work with Pierce. whoever that was.

you were well content with the life you had right now. but sometimes—often in front of your vanity— you did find yourself fantasizing about the 'big city'. you caught yourself in a cliche dream but the idea was invigorating, the mere machinations of those opportunities dangled above your eyes like meat on a stick.

"..oh, but.. i don't think it's practical, you know?" you excused as you dismissed the billowing thoughts in your head. even if you had the physical assets that aligned with the director's vision, it would still feel wrong. some people go to literal schools for this stuff, don't they?

but she remained persistent. and after a low, lighthearted sigh, she continued her persuasion. "..y/n, you're a diamond in the rough." your aunt neared you, holding your hands together in a friendly hold. "..let me make it a reality for you."

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

so. were you a natural? hell no.

you're wearing a costume that you can't even touch without the stylists getting mad at you. you got harped on and poked at for so long you were starting to get a migraine. the studio refused to let up on you, jabbing at you passive aggressively until you curled like a millipede. honestly, you were more pissed than sad!

and leon? god, he was a total fucking hottie. and he was totally cold.

the director announced an hour break to everyone just before they'd jump straight to the next scene. you remained sat on one of the props, hands clasped on your lap, contemplating the choices you've made over for the 7th time today. you were fidgeting like you were anxious. you forgot how breaks felt. the luxury was there, five star hotels, velvet cushions and robes and office gossip and dinners with imported wine and cheese. but it felt like hell. working with leon was the only thing that made it even ten percent worth everything, but even he doesn't seem to like you. why was everyone so mean? fucking fair enough, you were beginning to hate this place so much you might ask for a cigarette yourself.

the petrichor mellowed through the film set, nibbling her skin with chill. nights in raccoon are cold, you needed to keep mind of that in case you decide to open your front door without a jacket. the alleyways were diffused by vapor lighting and LED signs. you also had another superficial thought. what do people on set usually do when they're on break?

you whip your head up, legs swinging slightly as you scanned the area. most of them are either adjusting equipment, going through script, or smoking one. you turned your head to your right without expecting much.

you saw leon leaning against the wall, next to the director, sharing smoke (you're beginning to see this is a trend) and cheap laughs. you were mildly surprised, not realizing they were both adjacent behind you, and you felt goosebumps rise when your eyes landed on leon. you quickly looked forward again. you didn't want to move away.

you missed leon's subtle smirk to himself when his gaze flicked to the crown of your hair. he took a puff of his stick, still sounding like he was talking to the man beside him. his eyes didn't leave you and the way you sat there like you were going to spend the remainder of your break spacing out.

leon's voice was nonchalant behind you. to you, it was faint chatter. "...life will chew you up and spit you back out before too long, but that's..."

...

was he talking to you?

leon wasn't too nice on you while you guys were on set, but he wasn't so directly mean either—emphasis on directly.

he's earned word of you from both your aunt and the director, obviously. he doesn't look like the type, but sometimes he has a knack for gossip. that's just how the nature of stardom works, doesn't it? name number #1 did this that tto name number #2, someone divorced someone, someone slept with someone—and the whole world goes aflame. he could care less about where you came from, why you're really here or who you were connected to. but something about you was thought-provoking. contrasting you, he worked for where he was. you just sat there looking pretty and snagged the role right away. maybe that sort of incompetency and oblivious audacity made you stand out from the rest. he found it pathetically attractive. you're an artless girl.

your head swiveled over your shoulder, looking behind and up at leon.

leon's eyes met your gaze halfway. "aww. is this your first big time acting gig, baby? no need to be nervous, it'll be alright." a tinge of mockery sweetened the husk of his voice. the director, who you now know is 'pierce', snickered at leon's subtle sarcasm.

the director tells him he's going to announce everyone to continue, since he wanted the rain to 'sex things up'. heaven's dew tapped lightly on the concrete as the director mounted his back off the vandalized walls, leaving you and leon alone in the same space. oh god.

for a minute you sat there quietly, letting the tension sink in upon the director leaving. you tentatively take another glance at leon. he wasn't looking at you anymore, and his hands were out his pockets as he swipes the little box open. soft brown tufts wisped when he shook his head to get the rain off his hair.

you got off the table. you walked to leon. you'd say your feet were moving on its own.

his head shifts to your direction. his bangs falling over his face. a gust of wind breezes by, and he smells deep, musky. like cardamom. cedarwood.

" if anyone's givin' you trouble on set..." leon looks down as he slips a cigarette in his mouth, rummaging in his pocket for his lighter. "you come to leon... 'kay?"

his hush voice was honeyed whiskey when it wooed at you, applying simple emphasis to his two-syllable name. leon, leon, how that name would sound in bed. there's a slight tease to his eyes, before diverting his attention to his cigarette, casting an orange glow in his palms when he flicks the lighter on with his thumb. his presence was prodding, inviting you with every inch of his body language. this man was blazing and you were a fucking moth.

he likes the way you're looking at him right now. your eyes are batting at every subtle sculpt of him. you can look away but he knows you're still thinking about him.

such a sweet thing, this one.

he decides to be 'friendlier', pitying the fact that you're obviously having a hard time socializing with the crew. "what's your favorite movie, doll?"

"mm.. i liked kill bill. and pulp fiction." you converse casually.

a name rolls off his tongue. "quentin tarantino." he nodded in what seemed like approval, watching a puddle.

you blink. "what?"

he glances at you and he doesn't reply, before leaving that wall all to yourself.

...

leon's tongue trickles with the taste of vouvray. you were art in the shadows, the honey lighting of the dimmed lamp doing nothing to illuminate leon's hotel room. your lips are glossed with his saliva, evidence of your breath went after he made out with you.

you're barely holding it, all while his big hands purchased at your flesh, drinking in the way you straddled his boner. the subtle friction where you were able to feel how big he really is intimidated you, blooming excited butterflies, your stomach fluttering at each soft push of your hips. you watched with your palms flat on his stomach, the soaked fabric of your panties collecting and staining all over his boxers as you stifled a needy whimper. "y'need it now, baby? oh, don't go soft on me now... i'll take care of you, just tell me."

his pretty baby, sitting on him and too shy to plead from the big shot. leon's hands languidly travel your skin, palms massaging up your sides. "...i-i wan' it.. i want you.. please.." you murmured hazily, leaning down to give him a soft kiss to compensate for the bashfulness that rode over your speech.

"is that right, sweetheart?" he bit his lip gently at the teasing sight, loving the way you sounded needier by the minute. "oh, baby, go on. it's all yours, yeah?.." he crooned, patting your thigh gently.

"easy, baby.. oh, there you go.. atta girl.." he groans prettily when he's muttering you through it, eyes delectably gazing at the way you sink on his length. it was cute to him seeing you not knowing what to do with your hands. but he watches you settle them on his built torso, and he could only look at you in adoration. god, he was so fucking thick and you were so highly strung..

leon's touch stroke at your knees. you aren't moving, and he looks almost amused seeing you try to render just how he feels inside you. "i can't.." he heard you murmur before you giggled quietly, to which made him chuckle as well. but the flustered laughter dies down. the actor groans, feeling your fluttering grip around his cock, making it his instinct to hold onto your waist.

it didn't take long before you started getting loud. your arousal lathered up and everytime you pump down a creamy squelch. "mhmmm... uhh, keep going.." leon whispers, and his eyes stared at where your bodies met. you could hear a soft whimper from him—vocally begging your sweet little self to go faster.

leon watches you trying to change the speed. poor girl, you looked like you were already starting to ragdoll. you resisted stopping, unable to with the way he'd rub into the right spots. leon took your small, depleted whine as a sign for him to initiate. he was just letting you have your fun. just until you'd get a bit frustrated. by this time he'd already lit another cigarette and the stick perches between his lips.

"..tiring, ain't it, sweetheart?" leon coos, feigning pity for you, fingers clutched at your hips like its his favorite thing to hold. he started to thrust up into your sopping little cunt, pulling a weak mewl out of you. there might be nothing he loves more than watching your supple frame as it bounces atop him.

"mmm.. aww 's okay, baby.. leon's got you.. mhm, that's right." he responds to every quaint sob you make. his stamina was stubborn as he gradually shifted his pace.

"nice and quiet, baby... don't want th't fucker 'pierce hearin' you..." leon almost feels like a sick fuck, pretty lips grinning slightly as he moans. "god, fuuuuck... mmmhh... uh- f-fuck!" leon almost whines before giving you a harsh thrust, as if he were desperately trying to make you his cocksleeve. if you were going to take it so well then you shouldn't be surprised at how he's gonna force you down, and keep you in place while he sluts you out.

you're murmuring something, and the words fall like blabber to his ears.

leon smiles endearingly, as if he isn't fucking you stupid right now. "mhhh.. wanna cum? you wanna cum?" leon asks as he tries to make sense of what you're saying.

and you gulp, gasping through your watering voice. "w-wanna cumm.. give it t'me-"

he tries not to laugh.

"c'mon, let me make you cum... i'll make it feel good.." leon murmurs before you could feel him pound into you, a whine dripping like syrup from your voice. your body barely keeps up. you feel tight and it's making leon's head tilt back a bit. "oh, there you go, sweetheart... atta girl.." he mumbles hazily as his mind starts to get messy.

"like that? uhuh? mmmh?~" leon moans back almost mockingly at each pleasured whine that spilled your voice. you're mindlessly pawing at whatever you can reach on leon, turning him on with your helplessness. "takin' me nice and well-..." he growls as he starts to piston up into your cunt brutally. you look cuter when you're stuffed with leon's thickness, when you're crying on what you begged for.

"leon, c-cumming" you lolled out in a low moan, head leaning slightly. "i'm gonna cum.."

he responds with a groan, hips rocking upward as he feels you clenching around him. "go on, baby, give it to me. 'm right here,"

he has you shuddering when you cum, the vibrating sensation jolting to your brain as it reeled in pleasure. it takes a few shallow thrusts to keep you satisfied but it's hard to tell when you're already sniffling and twitching on top of him. you wipe your face as you draw a few breaths. leon reaches to warmly take your wrist, thumb pressing onto your skin, feeling your heartbeat.

he watches you gather your bearings before generously caressing your hair once. you help yourself off leon's shaft and a heavy-sounding breathe escapes him in wonder.

leon whispers something once he leans into you and chucks his half-dead cigarette into the ashtray. "c'mere.." his one arm tucked around your back and eventually the other to your leg as he makes you lie down. he treats you with some sort of delicacy, at least until he doesn't.

leon tugs you closer with his arm hooked loosely under your knee, pulling your princess body in for a few intimate kisses to calm the both of you. he tastes mildly bitter. you hummed in his mouth when your lips lock together, eyes fluttering while you felt weak. leon starts muttering as he asks if anything hurts, if you're okay, if you're gonna stay here for the night. for a moment he doesn't say anything and he's just gazing down at you languorously while he breathes. he kisses one of your eyelids before he shifts.

maybe leon liked you better like this, on your fours, limping against the satin bedding as you cried and panted in a way that seemed like suffocation. his thick fingers tug at your hair once, your only teary view being the couch and the TV that dimly mirrored a reflection of you being held down be leon as he rammed into your dribbling hole tenderly. your legs occasionally kicking up against him, hitting him with your ankles as you found it hard to not writhe. he watches you peek over your shoulder, the expression in your eyes instigating struggle. "what?" leon tugs at your hair again, fighting the toothy smile from his face as he fucked you brainless. "didn't think i could make a whore out of you?"

leon lets go of your hair to rut into you with urgency. the bed was starting to jut out small squeaks from leon's rhythm. he leans closer, chewing on his lip as his eyes narrowed in pleasure. a soft growl emanates from behind you, skin on skin, breathing near your ear. the rough hands that were once planted near yours on the mattress start to grip your forearms like handles. he watches your back contort.

you jolt up as leon yielded you to his body, impaling you with his girth in a routinely fashion, urging you to cry louder. "oh, baby.." he whimpers lowly as he starts to feel himself lose control again.

"fuck, i can't.." you wail out, head hanging low briefly. he notices.

"ready to pass out, honey?" he pants softly.

you weakly shook your head.

"good girl." leon bit his bottom lip, whispering out a needy 'fuck' as he slammed into you while pulling you back. he felt satisfied by the way you yelped. his brows furrow, expression tainted with a lustful and crude color as he almost began to drool. brown strands started to get in the way of his vision. his breath is suddenly hitched, water lining his eyes as his voice turned up a note. he hisses, head tilting to the side. "fuck, fuck,-" his gruff words start to match with his thrusts. "take it- all-, yes, baby, that's a good- fucking- mnnnghh..."

it takes leon a while to recover, moaning lowly and riding his orgasm, watching you spasm beneath him while he spills inside you without much restraint. he tiredly fucks his load in you before he gives out and huffs a spent whine. he catches a glimpse of it. you're leaking white.

you're breathless, fatigued, sweating, and almost thoughtless as you catch some oxygen back in your lungs. you could feel yourself pulsating around his twitching shaft as waves of pleasure traveled your burning body. his arms loosen of their sensual hold before they catch you, pulling your weary form down to spoon with you momentarily. you can feel each other inhaling. exhaling.

a phone rang. it wasn't yours, you could tell by the ringtone. your eyes flit to see pierce's name on a default iphone screen. "i need a drink." leon exhales roughly, leaning over to kiss the shell of your ear before he reached for the bedside table to grab for his phone. he slipped out of the sheets with his phone on his ear.