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thatpunnyperson · 10 months

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According to NBC here in the US, the missing titanic sub has been found. As debris. Off the bow of the Titanic wreckage.

And it looks like the sub suffered what we all suspected, and what was undoubtedly the more merciful of the two options: a catastrophic implosion from the pressure.

Also, more info has come to light about the fishing trawler with the hundreds of migrants that sank cataclysmically off the coast of Greece, indicating that the greek coast guard knew about the vessel AND how much trouble the vessel was in, and were towing it at a speed that made it capsize, at which point they unhooked the tow line and watched the trawler sink without helping the passengers to safety. Despite a bunch of other ships trying to help as well throughout the whole ordeal.

So a lot of people are dead, all because of regulations (and the lack thereof) regarding sea-faring vessels and rescue protocols. People shouldnt be allowed to make a business charging a ton of money for a ride on an uncertified, unsafe, un-seaworthy ship going deep into the ocean with no distress beacon or tether to the mothership. People also shouldnt be allowed to enact laws that criminalize the ferrying of refugees, which then force the refugees to hitch rides on fishing trawlers, and which also prevent people from helping those fishing trawlers full of refugees due to fear of legal consequences.

Hopefully BOTH of these events spark changes on an international scale in terms of what is legally allowed to be sailed, who is legally allowed to be the passengers, and what the rescue protocols are in the event of disaster for any seafaring vessel, illegal or not. It shouldnt be just the global 1% who get 24/7 search parties and remote-operated submersibles helping rescue them.

#the question of 'what do we owe to each other' can be answered simply with 'the dignity of retrieving our remains when we die'#another answer is 'the dignity of thinking about each other fellow humans with similar motivations and feelings'#also 'stopping someones potentially self-destructive behaviors just because theyre rich and want to feel special'#also i feel like humans have been sailing the seas long enough that it should be guaranteed that people will survive sea voyages #im very mad about specifically mediterranean maritime disasters because we have ancient writing saying they made it safe #sailing from Egypt to Greece was so old hat and safe that people legit took the ancient equivalent of cruises back and forth #cleopatra habitually sailed from alexandria to rome with a ton of ships and was fine #Nero tried to have his mother drowned at sea by orchestrating a dramatic shipwreck while she was our sailing AND SHE SURVIVED #and then swam to shore got back to rome and whooped his ass #fuckin pliny the elder tried to evacuate people from pompeii and the surrounding coast villages when vesuvius erupted #and he actually WAS able to rescue people #but he himself had an asthma attack from the fumes which led to a heart attack and he died on the beach #there is legit no excuse for that trawler of migrant refugees to have wrecked #negligence all around #anyway #oceangate

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

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“Come here, you dweeb. Let me fix it.”

Will pouts, dragging his feet over and slumping half on top of him. Nico allows it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, pinching Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t react except for a wounded noise, muffled in Nico’s lap, so the situation is evidently quite dire.

“It’s just hair, Will.”

“But I worked on it!” He shifts around until he’s got his head in Nico’s lap, face turned towards him, body curled up on the grass around him. Nico brushes his tangled bangs off his forehead, meeting his big sad eyes. “I spent forty minutes with a stupid brush! And yet!”

“And yet,” Nico agrees, unable to appropriately school is face into one of somber understanding. Will scowls at him for his lack of proper sympathy, a little bit of genuine hurt in his eyes, so Nico leans down and kisses right between his brows in apology. He seems mollified, if only slightly, or at least he leans into Nico’s touch and stops mumbling quite so much.

“‘S’not fair.”

“Mhm.“

“Your hair listens to your instructions.”

“Yep.”

“Even Cecil’s hair listens to him, and no one listens to Cecil.”

Nico purses his lips thoughtfully. “I think Austin listens to Cecil.”

“Yes, I know. It’s an ongoing issue. I’m trying to train him out of it.”

“And how’s that going?” Nico murmurs, curling a strand of golden blond hair around his finger.

“Oh, well, I’m doing my best, so of course it’s going horribly.”

Nico snorts. He resists the urge to hold his palms to Will’s cheeks and kiss every single freckle at light speed, because he will screech something about how Nico is one-upping him in the romance department or something stupid like that. Instead he settles for looking at his dumb dramatic boyfriend’s face and marvelling over the fact that the cutest boy in the entire world, and Nico is being totally objective, hunts around camp until he finds whatever tree Nico is hiding under and curls up into a ball around him and trusts Nico to hold him while he complains about stupid things that genuinely hurt his feelings a little. It’s nice. So many people at camp are still so rigid around him, like he’s collecting information for their judgement day or something. Will prefers to exercise his lesser-known Apollonian talent of being a bigger drama queen than the god himself.

“Stay still,” Nico says softly, moving Will around so he’s laying perpendicular to Nico, now, head centered in his lap and staring up at the sky. Will sighs and squirms a little and turns his head to press a kiss to Nico’s knee, scrunching up his face and releasing it, and then settles in the position.

Humming something soft that exists on the fringes of his foggy memories, he sinks his hands into Will’s hair.

“It’s not that bad,” he promises, moving slowly and pausing whenever he comes across a knot.

Will harrumphs.

“I mean it, Marilyn Monroe. You can tone down the histrionics.”

“I used gel.”

Nico flicks a dried clump of it onto Will’s forehead, amused. “I can see that.”

“I followed every single one of Mitchell’s instructions!”

“I bet.”

“And yet!”

“And, yet.”

Nico has a sneaking suspicion that someone made a comment about Will’s hair, in the last few weeks. He can never confirm it and Will has been shifty about it every time he asks, but Nico has noticed the uptick in hoods and hats the past month and his little flinches every time Nico reaches up and tugs on it. Despite being oddly confident about the oddest things — why he is so proud of being able to fit his fist in his mouth, Nico will never know — Will is very sensitive to how people think of him. He needs to know he’s liked, and when people don’t like him, he gets…desperate, pleasing. The opposite of Nico, who becomes worse in an attempt to push them away on his own terms.

Nico leans down and presses a long, lingering kiss to his forehead.

“I like your hair, you know.”

“It’s a stupid mess.”

He smooths down a handful of it, pressing it over Will’s eye. He manages to keep a straight face for one, two, three seconds before he huffs a laugh, batting Nico’s hands away. Nico grins.

“I like the stupid mess.”

“Yeah, well, you like a lot of weird things.”

“Like you?” Nico suggests, pressing another kiss to the tip of his rounded nose.

“Shut up.”

Another strange thing about him, that Nico has to duck his head to hide his automatic smile: he gets embarrassed easily.

Nico never expected it of him, with all the dorky, medical-themed pickup lines and general shamelessness in his affection towards everybody on Earth, but especially Nico. When the poking, prodding attraction is turned on him, however, he shuts down like an overloaded Playstation. Nico can sometimes see the error messages playing behind its eyes. It’s hilarious.

“Will.” He pokes him in the cheek. “Hey.”

“What,” Will grumbles.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Watching the slow spread of red from below the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair is a delight. Nico watches in glee, wrestling Will’s hands away when he tries to slap them over his face.

“Shut up! Leave me alone! Go — flirt with somebody else!”

“You’d curse them to speak in rhymes for ten years,” Nico teases.

Will makes an agonised noise. “Who! Asked you! Shut up!”

“You’d sic Kayla on anyone who so much as winks at me, you jealous bitch.”

“I would not!”

“You would so. You rolled your eyes at everything Percy said for three weeks when you found out I used to crush on him —”

“I did not!”

“— and you didn’t even have the balls to ask me out, back then.”

“You are a — peddler of falsehoods! A prevaricator, a perjurer, and a fabulist!”

“And you sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Nico snickers. He catches the hand Will flails at him, pressing a kiss to the wrist, which only serves to fluster him more. He decides to take mercy when the kisses he trails down his arms result in one loud, long, tortured screech, pulling back and giving him some space.

Notably, he doesn’t move from Nico’s lap.

“I like it,” Nico admits, once Will has calmed down some. “I like that you’ve liked me for so long.”

Will peeks through the fingers he has covering his eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.” Nico squeezes his shoulders. “And endearing, which seems to be your sweet spot.” He presses a much softer kiss to the underside of Will’s ear, lingering there until he sighs, slumping under all the tension finally leaving his body. “I love you, Will. I love your clumsiness and your rambles and your nose and your freckles and your awkwardness and your jealousy and your hair and I love you, Will, all of you. Even the embarrassing weird parts.” He kisses him again. “Especially the weird parts.”

Will breathes slowly, carefully, evenly, face pressed to the inside of Nico’s thigh. His long eyelashes tickle his skin. Nico can feel the press of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, pulsing against his calf.

“I never thought you were a freak.”

Nico brushes his knuckles over his cheek. “I know.”

“I used to — talk about you. All the time. And your oxytocin levels.”

He smiles.

“I know.”

“Lee had a — chart.” Some of the flush rises back up in his cheeks. “A ‘Days Since We’ve Heard About Di Angelo’ chart.”

Nico bites his lip. Hard.

“The number never got higher than six.”

“…I am trying really, really hard, Will.”

Will sighs.

“You can laugh.”

Nico cracks up, trying desperately to muffle his giggles in his bitten fist. It doesn’t work very well, but the glare Will sends him is somewhat softened by the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Gods, you are — a mess.”

“Mhm.”

Nico cups the side of his face. Will turns, slightly, enough to press a kiss to the centre of his palm and then stay there, eyes closed, breathing against his sword-callused skin.

“I love you too, by the way. Obviously.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you bastard.”

“Go ahead and try to stop me,” Nico challenges, grinning into the passionately indignant kiss Will presses to his lips, finally, letting Nico curl his hands in his hair.

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beatcroc · 1 year

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there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y

hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]

#ramble after realtags yeag. shoutout to serrangelic btw suggesting the silhouettes thing bc i would have Died otherwise #pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #fake peppino #gustavo and brick #arting #pizzaposting #so anyway i think fake peppino has like. a general awareness that he is supposed to Be Peppino and that he was Made to do that #and likewise he does generally try to...do that. the thing he does NOT realize is hes like really goddamn bad at it #not to be mean but like...c'mon. they are pretty distinctly different kinds of guys even beyond the physiology yknow.#he's neither on-brand nor fooling anyone dsjdsjjkgfsd. BUT!#since the rest of the cast generally likes him [at least as I play it] he thinks hes doing just fine #he's like 'oh they r happy with me so i must be getting a good grade in being peppino :)'#so getting told that 'yeah you actually really suck at that but that was never the reason people liked you'#and told that by og model peppino no less--yknow THE guy he's supposed to be living up to #who's already a bit intimidating for that and who ALSO totally wrecked him TWICE in the tower #making him acutely familiar with just how formidable the guy is and how much there IS to live up to....#it's a Moment for sure. not really a sad or hurt one though. just... contemplative.#thinking abt people liking him for being the guy he's already naturally been being even though that guy is Not Peppino #i don't think he's gonna be super broken up about realizing he has a bad grade in peppino given everything else hes got now #nor do i really think he cares enough to go like reinvent himself or whatever after the fact #he seems to b pretty clearly having fun with it already so i think he just keeps doing that #and in some cases he still has the pre-installed peppino traits/instincts like to cooka da pizza. and that's fine #is this projection. yes. but if youve been following me awhile you know most of my character writing is ghdhfdgf #gonna kinda expand on all this in the gerome one which is...one after next. itll be a bit but man.#anyway peppino will never admit to anyone and especially not himself that he's gotten a little attached to the guy. hee hoo #pep tends to be kinda surly but he certainly has his ways of showing he cares. all of which are on display here #''that thing is not my son'' says man currently watching thing's antics with the 'bemused dad' arms crossed pose. yeah ok buddy.#gus is totally onto him already but hes not gonna say anything.#if u read all this ur prize is not having to go decode fp's rot13. his lines are ''meant to be you...?'' and ''wrong question.''

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sp0o0kylights · 7 months

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"I feel him." El insists. "Alive."

She hasn't said his name since Will first raised them all over the walkie, but every person in the room knows who she means.

Not that Steve can say his name either.

"But we watched him die." Nancy says gently, before Dustin properly loses it from where he sits in the corner. "Owen's even sent someone back through to check."

"Yes." El agrees, but it's clear she's frustrated. "He died here. But he's not alive here, he's alive over there."

"In the Upside Down?" Steve asks, and pretends his voice isn't cracking with desperation and barely concealed hope.

"No!" El snaps, before taking a deep breath and collecting herself to try again. "Through the other gate."

"Okay." Hopper cuts in, hands waving in some kind of "stay calm" gesture. "El, honey, I think we're all still hung up about the other gate." He pauses, before adding. "And how Creel dying opened it."

El gives him a thousand yard stare.

"I'm getting the crayons." Joyce sighs as she stands up. In a mutter she continues, "Should have gotten them to begin with."

Silently, Steve agrees.

xXx Eddie xXx

It goes like this.

A bat breaks through the side of the trailer. It swoops low, teeth rattling, but it doesn't attack.

It emits an odd, echoing screech, before flying through the gate, to the Rightside-Up.

"Shit." Dustin curses wildly. "Shit, they're gonna try and invade!"

"I thought they were guarding the gate!" Eddie protests, as that echoing scream returns tenfold, coming from the mouths of too many demobats. “If they wanted to invade wouldn’t they have done that already!?”

"No, because Vecna was focused on opening more gates! This must be his plan--to open enough gates to push an army through. We have to lead them away!"

"Dustin-!" Eddie calls out desperately, but finds himself overwhelmed by bats as more and more break through.

He fights through them, trying to get to Dustin, trying to listen to what the kid’s screaming.

He can’t hear him.

Not over all the screeching, the beating bat wings and the thudding noises as they smack at his head. Their teeth snap, tearing into every piece of him they can reach.

Eddie doesn’t know how long he’s been surrounded, but he hears the trailer door bang open--and shut.

"Dustin!" He screams this time, voice as loud as he can make it.

The kid’s faster than he is.

He’d planned this--or at least, had thought about it long enough to get himself a solid head start, leaving Eddie scrambling after.

Fighting through the torrents of bats. Abandoning the gate because Hawkins can burn for all he cares--but there are people who don't deserve to go down with it.

People like Henderson, who have bright futures ahead of them.

Eddie tears his way towards Dustin, unthinking, just running.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid-!’ He thinks, but not at Dustin.

At himself, because he knows the kid. Knows what to expect from how he acts in games.

Steve even called it--and Eddie’s not stupid enough to think he was talking to both of them when he warned them about not being a hero. He was included purely because Dustin would fuss otherwise and they were short on time.

Dustin’s on the ground when Eddie finds him, and he whips his spear at the few dozen bats that attack him, their bodies circling, teeth biting.

He gets in two good hits before shit hits the fan.

To his right something explodes, flames high and reaching, a thunderous boom whipping out so loud that Eddie's ears ring.

A shockwave nearly takes him off his feet, bandana pulled from his head and freeing his hair.

Eddie crashes on the ground next to Dustin.

Sees all the blood and doesn't know what to do.

"Come on man." Eddie pleads. "Come on!"

He doesn't get an answer.

It goes like this.

Vecna’s dead.

The blast that killed him was from some kind of explosion that took out all of Creel House.

It fireballed skyward, and the Upside Down rapidly began doing….something, seconds after.

Returning, Eddie decides, to whatever it was before the asshole got thrown in here.

Or dying, maybe.

(This is easier to think about than the fact that no one could have survived that blast. That there's a black hole Eddie can see, and it has to wrap miles and miles around the Creel House because he's still near his trailer.

It the trees down the stupid hill didn't make it then Robin, and Nancy, and Steve--

He stops. Shakes his head.

If Eddie thinks about it, it will make it real.

He can't let it be real.),

The monsters all fall as one, dropping to the ground like puppets with cut strings.

Eddie had been pummeled by a few demobat bodies before he could get clear, though given how some still occasionally twitch and hop around weakly after, Vecna's death doesn't necessarily equal their own.

Madly, he crushes a few beneath his boots.

Knows that won't bring his friends back.

Stomps on a few more because he can't do anything about that, and he can't cry any harder.

It goes like this.

Eddie gets back topside to find Vecna's revenge in action.

It's an act worthy of a mad god, not that Eddie would ever give him such a title.

Hawkins wasn't split. It was consumed, with large portions falling deep into the earth that opened under it. Smoke chokes half the town from an outburst of fires, while downed trees and electrical lines make walking a chore.

The road is a cracked and pitted mess, littered with holes large enough to swallow entire cars.

Passage is nigh impossible by car, and downright dangerous by foot.

It makes Eddie want to sink to his knees in despair.

There were still people around, that first day.

There were still people around the second and fifth days too.

But then the monsters appear.

They're not the demobats, or demodogs or even the demogorgons that Eddie was told of.

They're something--else.

Mutated and mutating, taking on appearances that reflect both the Upside Down and the Right-Side Up (a term coined by one of the freshmen--Eddie can't recall which.)

Actual flowers, great purple and orange looking blooms sprout teeth and attack. Vines stick out of arcade cabinets, carting them around like a hermit crabs shell.

Some people breathe the falling little pieces of ash and suddenly aren't people anymore.

(It was Erica, who had coined the term. The Right-Side Up.

Erica who was also deceased, because the fucking explosion didn't just take out the Upside Down version of the Creel house, but the real one too.

Which meant Max and Lucas and Erica…

But Eddie's not thinking about that.)

It goes like this.

Wayne's gone.

He'd been at the plant when the Earth had swallowed it, his first day back to work because he'd used all his PTO trying to find Eddie.

The coworker who watched it happen makes sure to tell Eddie his uncle insisted he was innocent. That the old man never stopped looking.

Likewise, the trailer is gone.

It fell barely a day after Eddie had climbed out of it, one half eaten while the other teetered dangerously on the edge.

There's cops at the borders of the city.

They’re been commandeered by the military and the feds both, and people in heavy gear prowl around like guard dogs just waiting to be let off leash.

Helicopters fill the air, always circling and searching. Units of men and women begin parading around with guns as they escort tanks and other battle equipment through the streets.

They're looking for something besides the monsters, and they're happy to cut the phone lines and police the survivors to find it.

No one's allowed in--or out.

Eddie tries to escape the first few days, after he realizes everyone who knew the truth is gone.

Thinks maybe he can get to the Byers, and that super powered girl out in California, but keeps getting cut off.

Twice they've nearly caught him, which means twice Eddie has been forced to come to terms with the fact that he's one of the things they're after.

They know him by name.

They know he was involved in Creel's takedown.

Eddie"s not just being hunted by the town now.

He’s being hunted by the United States as a whole.

It goes like this.

Eddie doesn't want to die.

Can't bring himself to take his own life, forever too much of a coward.

So he berates himself while he hides.

Wonders what the fuck his plan is here.

Focuses on surviving, stealing food, sleeping in people he loves houses and hoping maybe some of them made it out.

(Given how Gareth's and Jeff's places are both untouched, he doesn't think they did.)

He’s never prayed before but now he’s praying to every deity he can think of. Hoping, wishing, that if he can’t get out alive, he at least goes down quickly.

It goes like this.

Steve Harrington walks out of the woods with a nailbat in his hands, like a blood soaked fever dream.

Eddie doesn't care.

He hugs him so hard his own ribs hurt and the crazy thing is Steve hugs him back even harder.

"You're alive." Eddie sobs, face buried in Steve's shoulder.,"You're alive, you're alive…"

Steve grips him for a moment before whispering back; "And so are you."

He pulls away and Eddie struggles against him, not ready to let go, fingers grasping at his shirt.

Steve strokes his hair, his stupid tangled, gross hair and Eddie looks at him, desperately needing the contact to prove that Steve is real.

That he’s here.

"I need you to listen--I'm not your Steve." Steve says, and Eddie’s so desperate for contact that the words don’t register for a moment.

Not that they make sense when they do.

"What?" Eddie asks.

"There’s a--okay.” Steve sighs, before saying; “I am going to absolutely blow the explanation, but I need you to trust me.”

“I do.” Eddie says, even as Steve fulfills his own prophecy, and gives a completely nonsensical explanation.

At the end of it, Eddie can’t bring himself to care.

As long as he has Steve back--even if it’s not technically his Steve, Eddie will follow him wherever he goes.

#MY COMPUTERS FIXED #HAVE MULTIPLE DIMENSION SHENANGINS #There's a part in Transformers MTMTE where this dudes husband gets murdered in a massacre in one dimension and due to Scientist Shenanigans #his husband gets him back by pulling him from another timeline where everyone ELSE died.#There's a lot of PTSD involved and i wanted that for Steddie so here we are.#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #0o0 fanfics #tw death #tw canonical and non canonical death #but like #they get better #sorta #is stealing someone from another dimension better #pre steddie #one day I will write actual steddie #stranger things fanfic #angst #hurt/comfort #I suppose specific #tw dustin death #though I dont really go into it #or any of them #and again #THEY GET BETTER LOL #sort of #also I need you to know the husbands from TF MTMTE are canonical husbands #thats important lol #they gay

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eightyuh · 9 months

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CHAPTER 2

#untitled rpg #webcomic #glendale goodwyn #harry #glen #oc #*collapses on the floor and dies*#i actually know what i'm doing with the story after the pilot so a lot of my writing and camera choices and frames and much more intentiona #i really do need to thank you all tho #i was convinced this was a really dumb idea and wasn't gonna take it any further #ur feedback means so much... thank u for ur positivity!#hope u dont mind the sketchiness and inconsistent line quality #follow if u wanna stay updated!

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lady-shadow-and-darkness · 23 days

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I find it interesting how despite Dazai being the suicidal one, most soukoku fics with the major character death tag have Chuuya die. It's incredibly funny because here we have Dazai, a suicidal character, losing everyone (he loves) but himself to death, which he desperately craves, and also loses his reason to live in the process. Ironic, even.

#they really said 'haha suck it loser' to Dazai in the worst way possible.#And I have to admit : I've written more drafts where Chuuya dies too.#Actually makes me want to write one whwre Dazai does actually die.#bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #soukoku

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johnconstantinesdick · 3 months

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I get the criticism of the Hunters of Artemis from a narrative perspective—it sucks that it essentially boots interesting female characters out of the story—but it always baffles me when people viciously hate Artemis for *checks notes* doing damage control.

Like. Thalia explicitly goes with Artemis to avoid the prophecy, and I definitely think that’s the reason Artemis tried so hard to get her to join—hell, you can view the hunters trying to recruit Annabeth as a way to get Thalia to join. And Bianca? You can’t convince me that Artemis didn’t guess there was something up there and react accordingly.

If Percy or Nico were even a little bit girl-adjacent you bet your ass she would be all over them to join. No one actually wants to risk the Great Prophecy happening, and Artemis is doing a hell of a lot more to stop it than anyone else.

#riordanverse #pjo #percy jackson #Artemis pjo #hunters of artemis #crack fic idea: Poseidon and Zeus have broken the oath several times before Thalia Jason and Percy. Artemis has just been hauling ass across #the country each time it happens. they have been so fucking lucky that their kids have been girl or girl-adjacent so far.#Artemis gets her info from Apollo (who gets pinged whenever a new potential prophecy child is born)#the hunters weren’t at westover to hunt thorn or even recruit Thalia. they were ACTUALLY there because Artemis got a text from her brother #like ‘lol the di angelo kids are out of the lotus hotel’#and Artemis is like gods FUCKING damnit hades I thought we had an understanding #OTHER fic idea: Bianca joins the hunters in the 30s and Nico goes to the casino alone #OTHER OTHER fic idea: Artemis can tell people’s gender sometimes before they can and now she has to crack trans Percy’s egg before she turns #sixteen so she’ll agree to join the hunters and put the prophecy off once again.#anyway. this has been my defense of Artemis.#eli rambles #eli writes

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aroaceleovaldez · 9 months

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the fact that Nico canonically gets flustered easily is really funny to me given he also is heavily implied to listen to emo/punk/etc music. poor guy puts his playlist on shuffle and the most nsfw rock song starts playing and he just slowly takes off his headphones.

#pjo #riordanverse #nico di angelo #i actually think Nico is one of the characters whose described as blushing the most in the series which is extremely cute #but everybody likes to write Hazel as being easily embarrassed and flustered about stuff where's that for Nico #theyre from the same era!#also i think is very funny that they're both super easily flustered but simultaneously cuss like sailors #i need a scene of either of them blushing and just letting loose a comically long string of swearing #Nico: [ears turn red at mild embarrassment] Also Nico: [sentence that cannot be published in a pg series]

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arson-09 · 2 months

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I think about sjm trying to say this was about rhysand in acomaf. like did she read her own writing?? god it pisses me off so much😭 Feyre hadnt even met rhysand at this point im pretty sure plus the suriel directly implicates that it means tamlin “high lords manor” like goddamn feysanders rlly hunting for scraps to justify their shitty little retcon ship.

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inkskinned · 2 years

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it's the levels of scrutiny too.

a movie that has a largely-female cast has to be well-written, well-shot, well-acted, well-advertised. people will spend 2 hours on youtube talking about a single plot hole; about a moment of bad pacing, about a singular background character's poor scripting. if there isn't something obvious, they will say - well there's nothing specifically bad, but it wasn't specifically good either.

they will turn out another all-male movie, and it's just a movie.

a book that has queer representation in it has to defy every convention of writing while also being true to traditional plot, structure, format, and pacing. it must have no boring chapters, no missteps, no awkward dialogue. it must be able to "prove" that any queer relationship "makes sense", their sparks must fly off the page and their love must be eternal. the writing must be clear and beautiful, the storyline original and fresh, the values traditional but with an undercurrent that is modern and saucy.

they will turn out another book without queer rep, where a man and woman just-fall-in-love, and it's just a book.

i am latinx. i am queer. i am nb & neurodivergent. my father said to me once: you will need to be exceptional to be just-as-good, and you will need to be beyond exceptional before they see you as just-a-person, and not your labels.

i am not beyond exceptional. i am a human person. i am skilled because i worked my ass off to be skilled.

i am currently reading a book that's so-bad-it's-good about a girl that falls in love with a vampire. i was 64% of the way through the book before she figures out tall-dark-fanged is not natural. i like books like these, i like letting myself relax while i just enjoy the read. but i do spend a lot of time wondering - would this have been published if it was about queer people? would this have gotten past the editors if the characters weren't white and sexy?

i want to write a movie about being a woman in a male space, and i want to start that movie with a 10 minute scene where the woman is lectured with the exact same whining that occurs in the youtube comments of even the trailers for those movies: "haven't we had enough diversity?" "we've had enough girl power movies" "sorry, this is just pandering. it's boring."

here's what's fucked up: it shouldn't matter, you're right. my identity shouldn't fold after my name like a battalion of stars: a cry of what i've gone through. what we all know i had to move past and through. i should just be a writer, plain and simple, without my work being shifted through with tweezers - i know everything i make, always, i am incredibly responsible for. beholden to. i don't like knowing that if i fuck up, i am also fucking up for every person like me. every person in a community i belong to.

once, back in undergrad, i wrote a short story about a girl who had been kicked by a horse. it was my first time writing about my experience with my ocd; i felt proud of it. the story was mostly about grief and slow recovery. the queerness of the main character was not important to the plot, my main character was just-queer. there wasn't even a romantic interest in it.

i remember one of my classmates being disappointed. "i just feel like you always write about girls who like girls, and i'm bored of it," he said. "you're a beautiful writer, but i'm like - oh, at some point, it's gonna be gay again." during the workshop, he folded his hands over my story and said, "and okay, i'm just going to say it. she's ocd, she's gay, she's depressed - it's a little much for me to believe is all happening to one person."

it is a little much to be that person (and more besides). i have therapy weekly, after all.

over and over, belonging to exception.

#spilled ink #poetry #prose #warm up #idk what this is #maybe more of a confession #btw the book is called crave it's OKAY #it's very straight #main character keeps being like totally okay with situations where dude is DEF #being a stalker villian #she's known him for a WEEK and shes like #'hes all that matters'#girlfriend ur parents only died a MONTH ago #there's a lot about timing in that book im like .... did this author ever have any #actually bad experiences #like main character being like ''i shouldn't cry over them it's pathetic'' a mONTH after her parents die #btw this isn't bc she's in denial/suffering/etc it's bad writing #the narrative is instead like #'' .... bc the author doesn't want to remember to discuss it''#she forgets she has a sprained ankle a lot #tbh im THIS close to saying ''fuck good writing''#and writing my OWN stupid supernatural school YA romance #and YES!!!!! IT WOULD INDEED BE GAY #''oh this school? we're all... different here....bc... of the witches??oh . i mean yeah but no actually we just really believe in a diverse

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anatheapple · 3 months

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Okay, so this is an idea I’ve had floating around in my head for awhile now as a DPxDC crossover! However, I acknowledge that my DC knowledge is still a bit lacking, but hear me out though!

So, Jason was raised by Willis & Cathy/Catherine Todd, who he believed to be his birth parents, right? Unfortunately, for him, that’s only half right as his birth mother wasn’t Cathy, but a Dr. Sheila Haywood (who betrays him to Joker & gets him killed). However, while Cathy did raise Jason as her son, imagine if she actually did have a biological child with Willis, but sent him away?? And this child maybe got adopted by a pair of crazy Ghost Scientists with a child of their own already?

I imagine, in this scenario, Jason might’ve found both his and Danny’s birth certificates at the same time, instead of just his own! Gives him some more conflict during this time when Bruce has benched him as Robin & he now finds out he has a half brother somewhere out there and his bio mom is (possibly) still alive! So many fun plots to explore! Maybe he chooses to not find Danny, as he believes this life is too dangerous and doesn’t want to drag him in? Or, maybe, that’s the first person he wants to find! The last biological piece of Catherine, the mother who loved and raised him as her own! (Also, imagine the feelings Danny would feel about his birth mother giving him away but raising Jason instead??)

But even more tragically… imagine Jason and Danny both kick the bucket within a year of each other… like, Danny would have to be younger than Jason, but depending on how you have the timelines line up, they could both have their deaths happen pretty soon after each other!

The angst Jason would feel after finding out his brother died and came back like he did?? (Well, kinda, depends if you view Ectoplasm and Lazarus Water as the same/similar.) That he also is forever changed and put through hell because of their “accidents”?? Maybe he could’ve saved Danny if he tried harder to look for him. Maybe he could’ve saved them both! Imagine his conflict when being reunited!

Anyways, that’s the main details I’ve come up with for this idea, so I hope it makes sense! Don’t know if someone has already written something like this (if so, please share with me 🙏). But I don’t think I’ll actually write anything with this but I needed it out there and out of my head! (Also, I’m not on here often so idk how this app works, hope the right people find this & enjoy it. If you know me irl, no you don’t.)

#dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #maybe prompt #Danny Fenton and Jason Todd are Half Brothers #imagine they die the same exact day tho???#or Danny dies the day Jason is resurrected!!#yes I saw the February writing prompts and it reminded me of this idea I’ve had on the back burner for years now #secret long lost sibling #so much potential for silly fun times and angst #I don’t see myself actually writing for this idea though #someone take this idea and run #i hope i tagged this right

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

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“I want you to have this.”

“Will —”

“Nico,” Will interrupts, voice stern, “take it.”

He fiddles with the clasp of his watch, sliding it off and holding it between them. The Celestial bronze frame has long since worn smooth, leather straps molded to the shape of Will’s wrist after years and years of use. He can even see the indent on the side of the bottom strap, where the Ace bandage Will often fidgets with has worn a groove.

“Please.”

Nico glances up to meet Will’s wide, pleading blue eyes. They’re darker, in the setting sun; almost midnight blue. Like the Raleigh reflection that colours the sky happens somehow in the tiny rings of his irises, too.

He sighs, holding out his wrist. Will’s expression melts into something almost relieved, corners of his lips turned up in a grateful smile. He wraps his warm hands around Nico’s forearm and fingertips, flipping over his arm, and presses the cool watch face the the middle of his wrist, buckling up the straps. Nico’s wrists are thinner than Will’s, and the worn-wide hole third down from the tip of the strap is skipped for the long-forgotten fifth. The watch fits comfortably and snugly, light enough that Nico almost — almost — forgets it’s there.

“It’s nothing like Percy’s,” he says quietly. His hands linger on the skin of Nico’s forearm, blunt fingernails picking at the watch’s grooves. “It can’t protect you. It doesn’t have a shield or a sword or anything like that. It’s just a watch.”

Nico hums. Gently, careful not to shrug off Will’s hands, he brings the watch closer to his face, inspecting it. There are nicks and chips, as expected for a watch Will has worn longer than Nico has known him, but there’s not a flaw in sight. It even ticks, pleasantly, a sound almost musical.

“Beckendorf?”

A tiny, punched-out sigh slumps from Will’s mouth.

“Yeah.”

“I can tell.” He taps his thumb on the face. “He did good work.”

“He gave it to me when I was eight,” Will says softly. “I used to — freak out, a lot. My anxiety was a lot worse as a kid. I’d panic if someone was late to breakfast, if I woke up late and no one was in the cabin. I didn’t like not knowing when things were supposed to happen.” Will’s lips quirk up. “Set it on the table when he walked by me one day. Didn’t say a word, just mussed my hair and smiled at me like he didn’t just fix my shit better than Xanax ever could.” His smile turned wry. “I had the hugest crush on him for years.”

It startles a laugh out of Nico, the admission, imagining Will’s motormouth trailing after Beckendorf, his bemused indulgence.

“There’s no way he didn’t know, either. I am not a subtle person.”

His shoulders shake. Gods, what a sight. He’s almost sad he missed it — he’ll have to ask Clarisse or Annabeth about it. Hell, maybe even Chiron. Will even looks like he’ll allow him, wide grin on his face, red as his ears may be.

“Not a bad choice,” Nico agrees, calming down a little. The watch feels heavier, now, knowing the significance, and he looks at it, lips pursing. “You sure you want me to take it?”

Will’s hand drags down his his arm until it rests in the palm of his hands for one, two, three seconds; glancing up at Nico, glancing down, nodding to himself. He twists their fingers together, squeezing. Nico’s breath hitches.

“You know how my energy kinda — goes everywhere?”

Nico nods. Will has more healing ability than pretty much anyone the camp has seen — and the more power, the harder it is to control. He’s got a pretty good handle on it, but if you stand near enough to him while he’s healing it’s impossible not to feel the affects; the ease to your joints, soothing of your tense muscles, pleasant warmth over your skin. Nico has been healed of scrapes and bruises just by virtue of one of Will’s beaming smiles, he’s gotten so good. Nico only wishes it didn’t drain him.

“I’ve been wearing that watch over seven years,” Will says. His fingers twitch. “The bronze is magic, of course, but that leather — that leather was living, once. Beckendorf made the whole thing with his bare hands ‘cause he saw me struggling. As far as ordinary objects go —” Will shrugs helplessly. “Might as we’ll be a sponge. It’s been absorbing my magic nonstop for nearly a decade. It’s as connected to me as my eyes, my hair.”

Almost absentmindedly, his free hand reaches out for Nico’s. He curls their fingers together, meeting them in the middle, and squeezes, hard enough to ground. Will blinks back into focus.

“I can feel you wearing it,” he whispers. “Your — heartbeat, vitals. Your life force.” He brings their clasped hands close to his chest, tapping right above his heart. “Here. I can feel you.”

Nico holds his breath. “Not just ‘cause you’re close to me?”

“No. I’ve never felt it like this before. Started the second you put on that watch. Focus for a second, can you feel it?”

Closing his eyes, he tries — imagining the click of the watch, gentle and soft, and the rise and swell of Will’s breathing. It’s in his hands, at first, every place they’re clutching Will’s, but in a second he can almost feel it pound — the ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump of Will’s heart, right next to his. The knot of anxiety in his stomach that isn’t his. The worry, golden and protective, spilling over him in waves.

“An empathy link,” Nico breathes. He stares at Will in pure awe. “You — you made an empathy link.”

That kind of life-force magic…you have to be deeply connected to the core of basically everything to access it. Satyrs have it easy, being nature spirits. Gods spend so long grappling with time that they can manage, too.

But mortals? Even half-divine ones?

Nico has spent a lot of time with the mythical, alive and dead. He’s met theoi from pantheons forgotten to every living soul, foreign to even most of the dead. He knows his history twice over and backwards.

He’s never heard of that before.

“Holy shit, Will.”

“Just — come back to me,” Will says. He tugs on Nico’s arms and faces him head-on, eyes now almost black that the sun has set down. “Promise me, Nico. Stay safe. Stay outta trouble as much as you can. Keep your head on straight. And —” He squeezes their hands together, to hide the tremble in his fingers. “I mean it, okay? Come back to me.”

Slowly, giving him time to pull away, Nico frees his hands, sliding them up to cup Will’s face. He pulls him down, standing on his tiptoes to meet him halfway, and lingers, breath mixing, warm, in the millimeters of space between them.

“I promise,” he whispers. “I swear it, Will, I’ll come back to you. I swear it on the Styx.”

Thunder rumbles above them.

“Good.”

Will closes the tiny stretch of space separating them, and their hearts beat in tapping harmony.

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happyk44 · 6 months

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The scene in TTC where Thalia and Percy were gonna kill each other during capture the flag because they inherited their dad's temperaments, except Bianca and Nico have blasts of lightning ingrained into their brains as a terrible, horrible thing even if they don't know why, so when Thalia throws her first blast at Percy, the ground shakes and shatters, skeletons and ghosts pouring out from the crevices, crowding protectively around the two who unconsciously called out for help in their sudden onslaught of fear.

#nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #thalia grace #happy talks pjo #i was gonna actually write smth for this but its been three weeks and i havrnt touched it since so 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 6 months

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One of Us is Guilty; Epilogue (Final)

Azul is now gone, but the actual room is known. Perhaps they will live to tell this tale.

Characters; Vil Schoenheit, Jade Leech, Silver, Azul Ashengrotto, Cater Diamond, Rook Hunt

Content; Murder mystery, the ending of this tale

Content Warnings; Blood, injury, death, murder, kidnapping (aka dead dove content)

Word Count; 1.3 K

Do not put my work into AI If you enjoy my writing, check out my masterlist

Azul was gone, in much a similar manner as Cater — the only evidence serving that he was there being the shattered glasses that now lay on the ground.

“AZUL!” Jade was too late though, and this was the most emotion that he had really shown that night; the bottled emotions finally coming to the surface.

He knelt down and carefully picked up the glasses, paying no mind to the tiny shards that pricked at his skin through his gloves. Paying no mind to the pinpricks of scarlet that had begun to stain the white fabric. And he stared at the broken glass; in a way, it represented their night. Normal enough at first, but once you got too close, it cuts at you and makes you bleed… it hurts you. And Jade was hurting, he had been since he had found the Prefect’s body earlier that night.

There was no time though; to mourn, to panic, to freeze. Time would come later, now was the time for action; to stop this here and now.

“Sorry,” Jade breathed, dusting himself off, and pocketing Azul’s glasses. “Are you both alright?”

Silver and Vil both looked at Jade, taking in the slight tremble of his hands as well as the pinpricks of blood that stained his gloves. The calm mask had slipped for a mere second, but they both knew that this affected Jade just as much as it affected them.

“None of us are alright,” Vil sighed, massaging his temples. “And you don’t need to apologize; it’s okay to not be alright… especially in this situation.”

Silver nodded his head in agreement. “If it were Malleus… I would have the same reaction,” he whispered. “You’re strong, Jade.”

Jade pursed his lips but said nothing, instead just offering them both a silent nod; he got the message, but he also knew this was neither the time nor place to lose control of himself.

“But if the teacher’s lounge wasn’t the room–” Silver mused.

“The library,” Vil exclaimed, eyes widening at the realization. “Think about it; where was Rook at the beginning of all this? The library!” Vil calmed himself down though, since that outburst was quite unlike him. “And if Cater and Azul are being held there, that’s where they will likely be.”

Silver and Jade looked at each other before looking back at Vil, and they followed after him, hands on their pens; ready for the worst, but hoping for the best. Because hope was the only thing that they had now.

…

The library was brightly lit up, almost harshly so. And although it was bright, the brightness cast equally as dark shadows.

Rook was nowhere to be seen, and that was both reassuring and a cause for dread. If he wasn’t here, he could be anywhere — hiding.

“Stay together,” Vil murmured, taking the lead again.

Silver and Jade looked at each other, each of them taking to a side of Vil; Silver to his left, and Jade to his right.

“MhmMMMMM!”

Muffled yelling; at least one of them was alive.

Following the muffled sounds, Vil, Silver and Jade found themselves in a sheltered alcove of the library. And amongst the dusty books that rarely got any use was Cater, who was looking at the trio with tears in his eyes, and Azul, who was currently unconscious.

They were both alive. And while the trio felt tremendous relief that they were both alive, they couldn’t help but question why.

Why did Rook spare them? Why did he kill Crowley? Why did he kill Crowley and Professor Crewel with magic, yet he slit the Ramshackle Prefect’s throat? Expired love potions caused some nasty side effects, but nothing to this level of violence and bloodlust.

Jade acted first though, cutting Cater free of his bounds first; using the broken glass from Azul’s glasses to cut through the ropes.

Once Cater was free of the ropes, he ripped the gag off, taking it heaving breaths. “Get out,” he hissed, gripping Jade’s shoulders. “He’s planning something and you need to get out!”

Jade stared into Cater’s eyes and nodded, and took his hands off his shoulders before moving over to Azul. “We will, but not without both of you,” he said just loud enough that Cater could barely make it out.

Vil and Silver covered Jade as he cut through Azul’s ropes, and then carried his house warden like a bag of potatoes over his shoulder. Yes, he would be livid once he woke up, but this allowed Jade to carry Azul while wielding his pen, should he need to protect himself, Azul, or the group.

And right as they were about to cross the threshold of the library’s doors, they slammed shut, and all the lights died out.

It was a trap, but I already knew that. It was too easy. Vil thought to himself, and brought out his pen, illuminating their immediate area in a purple glow.

“Ah, leaving so soon?” Rook’s voice called out from the darkness, a breathy chuckle echoing off the walls.

Vil grabbed a book, and while the others were looking at him with shock — since now is not the time to read — he paid them no mind. “It seems that you caught us,” he answered, hoping that some banter would allow him to do what he needed to do.

Give me a few minutes of time, please. Vil looked into the darkness, searching for that familiar face. “It is awfully rude of you though, to leave your guests in the dark. After all, you can only see the fairest of them all with proper lighting.”

Leave, get out now. Vil’s message got across though, and using the third-year’s distraction, Jade (still with Azul over his shoulder), Silver and Cater managed to slip through the door.

“Roi du Poison, what are you planning? Do you think I would be so foolish to accept anything from you knowing how your unique magic works?” Rook finally stepped out from the darkness, just enough to where he was faintly visible.

Vil quirked his brow at Rook and shook his head, “No, I know you well enough.” But do you know me when I’ve been backed into a corner? “And I know that the real Rook wouldn’t do any of this. It’s the duty of the beautiful to take responsibility for all of their choices. So — Take. Responsibility.” Vil hissed, his grip tightening on the book.

Rook cocked his head, staring at Vil with empty eyes, the sclera still stained black. “Why does the cat chase the mouse, even though its food dish is full? Why does someone hunt, but not for food?” Rook mused, taking a few steps closer, not breaking eye contact with Vil.

Just a bit closer.

“For sport. For the thrill,” Vil tutted. “Was that what all of this was for then? For you to just have fun hunting down your professors and peers just because you were bored?!”

Rook stopped walking, just an arm's distance away from Vil. “No, it wasn’t fun; they didn’t know…”

Now.

Vil took a breath, stealing his nerves. “You trapped yourself, and you shall remain trapped until we find a way to fix this,” he placed a hand on Rook’s shoulder, and once Rook looked at Vil’s hand in curiosity, Vil pushed the book he was holding to Rook’s chest.

Remain trapped until we find a way to fix this.

And the book sucked Rook into its pages; a prison of paper. And Vil slumped to the floor. Out of relief — that for now, it was over — but also exhaustion. He was so tired.

And while, yes, Rook was now caught, he and the others still had far to go. With reporting everything that had happened. To figuring out how to free Rook and reverse the effects of the potion. To working through the trauma they all had lived through, since this whole ordeal definitely had taken its toll on all of them.

...

Fin!

Author's Note; Thank you to everyone who voted throughout the duration of this event. Without you, none of this would be possible. I hope that you enjoyed this event as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

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cweampier · 1 year

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saw u post something like ‘leon breeder balls’ and i let out the ugliest laugh 😭💀

but like…. I AGREE SO MUCH. mmmmm thinking about pent up leon after a mission and all he wants to do is just unload everything from his breeder balls and into ur needy pussy :(( OR maybe one night ur silly self asked him if u could hold his balls but then u start to gently massage it and it just makes him hard bc he loves it when u touch him… i am going insane over this fuckin pixel help me

SO FUCKING REAL ITS REAL. i believe this one is gonna be on a bit of the longer side, i love him.. a lot. also very fluffy smuts kinda short i’m sowwies.. it’s just pure longing.. sorry i went all out.

after a few grueling days of uncertainty, your boyfriend finally bids you a bountiful hello once he walks through the door. there were always downsides of being so closely acquainted with leon s. kennedy. the several days he’s m.i.a on a mission and you don’t even fucking know if he’s alive kind of downsides and the jesus fucking christ this motherfucker is so damn needy downside.

the moment he walked into that very door of your shared abode, you could just sense the tenseness plaguing the usually easy to breathe in environment of the place. he was dirty, face covered in ash as well as dirt and mud, it was like he was rolling around in a pigs pin the entirety he was in spain. but, those things didn’t come directly out of your mouth, especially not if he’s practically running across the living space to smother you in his arms. “leon—“ you were cut off with his nose nuzzling through the parts of your hair, choosing to bite your tongue as you could tell he was reveling in this moment.

he didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to touch. no spot was neglected kind of touch. you relished in the presence of normalcy as you melted in his embrace, opting to bury your face into his chest as you both sat there, touching. several people were killed for him to be there, and boy was it so fucking worth it. you mustered up enough courage to break the silence, noticing the absence of his sheepskin bomber jacket, expensively crafted with tough leather. it looked perfect on him, at least you thought so.

“forgot something?” you muffled against his hold, you could feel his body respond to your voice somehow as he slowly separated himself from you, it seemed almost impossible. he let out a low chuckle, sucking in a breath before pressing a thumb against your cheek. “can’t say that i didn’t, hadn’t seen that jacket in ages..” he grinned through his admission, visibly bashful. he stared down at you grumpily, pouting like a child just cause you just had to speak up and make him let go of you. you cocked a brow at his direction and he defeatedly averted his gaze. you snickered, advancing farther into both of your’s home to fetch a washcloth, thoroughly wetting it in the kitchen sink before turning back to him.

he followed you, like a dog. who knew that he could become domesticated by a woman. ever since the events of raccoon city, things haven’t been in his favor when it came to his love life, meeting you was like encountering a saint personified into a woman. you motioned for him to sit but he didn’t budge, dumbly standing behind you, practically looming over you ominously. you rolled your eyes, irritated before you directed your attention back towards him like he wanted so badly. “yeees?~” you dragged on, shifting your weight onto your left leg before placing your hand on your hip. “not movin’ till you actually say hello to me, i know you missed me..” he replied, training his eyes onto your lips—he must’ve forgotten how kissable they were. you tutted, shaking your head as he smoothed a hand through his unkept hair. “i missed you baby, you know that.. now please take a seat, i’m trying to help you out here.” you sighed out, observing as he sat down, adjusting in his seat to get comfortable.

you couldn’t help but notice how worn he looked. eyes heavy, the skin barrier of his lips violated by the relentless gnawing at it. he made note of you studying his face, growing a bit insecure, not wanting you to stare and eventually notice something that made you want to leave. “i know, i’m all beat up but at least i’m home, yeah?” he alleviates your concern, your brows furrowing up as you felt your stomach finally settle after the constant churning in it. “i’m glad you’re home, leon… i’ll take care of you. you know i will.” you reminded him, beginning to wipe away the grime from his face, countless hours of slaughter. the rag was covered in filth and dried blood, it told a story. one of courage, you knew his job absolutely was not for the faint of heart. you watched as it took its toll on even him. you noticed a scar cleverly sliced across his left cheek, tracing your fingertips over it.

he flinched. eyes darting towards you as you watched his pupils dilate instinctively. your breath wavered, like a flame of a candle threatened by the harsh winds of a storm. his body was taut, breath laboring as he sat there, attempting to calibrate himself within the comfort of his own home. he grabbed at your hand, pressing it firmly against his cheek with earnest, welcoming your sweet contact as your the two of your’s warmth became adjoin. he missed this, he missed you. each lasting moment he spends with you, it makes it even more difficult to depart from you once he had to be deployed on a mission. he was starved of your attention, and he craved it. he yearned for your acknowledgment, he’d give just about anything for it, intangible or not, he’ll find a fucking way. he leaned into your touch, tranquility washing over him.

“handsome..” you gave his cheek a tender yet reassuring tug, watching a smile stretch across his face. “i hardly recognized you with all that muck on your fa— mh?!” lips eagerly collided with your own, grasping your wrists, guiding them to his neck where he demanded for them to be rested at, old habits die hard. he slipped his tongue past the gates that were your lips, tongue delving into your mouth, as he hoisted you up, allowing your legs to inevitably lock around his waist. he pulled away briefly, only to witness your dazed expression, lips plump and lathered in his saliva. his lips moved feverishly along your neck, adorning it with chaste kisses, ironic to how you two stood with one another.

you let out a strained moan, nimble fingers finding the back of his head, your fingers lacing within the hair present, grabbing at it arbitrarily. his kisses bruised your skin like a vulture tearing at a corpse as it sprawled out motionlessly on the pavement, accepting the inevitability of its fate. he pushed passed the door that lead to your bedroom, left vacant and untouched by him for several hours. it beckoned him with the sounds of floorboards creaking beneath his feet as he staggered heavily through the room, your body flushed against his chest.

he glanced down at his side of the bed, unmade with his clothes discarded carelessly underneath the covers. you refused to sleep elsewhere, finding solace within the sheets as they laid inanimately beneath you as you brooded underneath the light of the moon at nights, even as the sun shone through the curtains. they smelt of him, the textiles smelt of him, not permitting you to ever forget it. he tossed you gently onto the bed as your body clashed against the softness of the foamy mattress, bedding engulfing you, leaving you to carefully watch as leon began taking off his shirt, revealing that very body you spent countless nights musing upon. he assisted you with your own top, discarding of it somewhere you’d probably discover it at days later.

“missed this body.. missed the way it felt in my hands.” he averred, approaching where you laid in an almost predatory gesture. “say you’ll let me take you, baby, please..” he pleaded, thumbing at the waistband of your bottoms. you nodded, further encouraging his downright impulsive behavior. he incapsulated your lips in a kiss backed with passion as he fiddled with his belt, the clanking of the buckle sounding in the confines of your bedroom. he made quick work of it before tugging down his pants, ushering your body to rest against the pillows as he crawled between your legs. he broke the kiss, a string of saliva keeping your lips tethered together. “beautiful,” he echoed you from earlier, eyeing your bra and overall disheveled aesthetic. “shit, did i do that?” he remarks, huffing out a breath, a foxy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

he watched as you fumbled with your pants, swatting your hands away, he shook his head with disapproval, unsatisfied with the idea of you doing any of the work. “god, already tasking yourself with more work? let me, i’ll forever be indebted to you.” he assured, sliding your pants down the fat of your thighs and ultimately the entirety of your legs. he folded them with care beside you, turning his attention to your panties. he hummed, endorsing the presence of your arousal seeping through. “looks like i’m not the only one who’s needed this, huh?” he commented snidely, watching you puff out a breath impatiently.

“hey, hey.. i’m right here,” he cooed, working at your panties as he removed those as well, leaving you bare and ready for what’s to come. he allowed his boxers to pool around his ankles as he pulled you by your hips towards him, closing the gap between you two. he wasted no time as he pushed into you, your pussy greedily claiming the base of his cock, coating it with your fluids. he groaned as he thrusted his head back, gritting his teeth. you whimpered, adjusting to him as he slowly but surely bottomed out inside you. “gonna start movin, mkay? i hear you, baby, i know..” he soothed the ache inside you without fail, staying true to his words as he commenced. the sounds of skin slapping lewdly filled the room, his arm stretching out to grip onto the headboard as he looked down at his cock splitting you open in smitten. you craned your neck to the side, drinking up everything he offered you.

he wasn’t having that, cradling your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, turning your head towards direction. “look at me, wanna see that gorgeous face of yours. feels good, hm? i know, hon…” he fawned over you, disgustingly enamored. he picked up the pace as sweat collected along his brow line. not only did he miss this he needed it. badly. to relinquish his self restraint, for it to topple over on top of you. “missed you s’much, leon.. missed you—hh’missed you..” you babbled on, eyes involuntarily rolling into the back of your head as he slammed his hips against your own. in a fleeting moment, you were one with bliss.

with each thrust, he reminded you of how much he loved you. with each thrust, he drilled it into your skull of how much he yearned for you. “fuck, i wanna cum inside you… wanna give myself a reason not to even think of leaving your side again—mmfh!~” he grunted manically, his hips jerked and convulsed as he embellished the sight, the utter beauty of you beneath him. your bodies moved in a frenzied tandem, your limbs tangling together as he approached sheer ecstasy. “pussy feels so good, ‘t’s so warm.. fuck, don’t stop..” he says mindlessly, as if he wasn’t the one rocking his hips against the flesh of your ass. with one pitched whine, he spilled himself inside you, crushing your face into his chest, heaving as he collected the stray strands of your hair, tucking them behind your hair.

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, panting with purpose. “take me one more time, promise ‘ll take care of you.. always.” he stilled his hips inside you, plugging you up, ensuring that nothing will slip out. the night was still young, and your boyfriend was just getting started. he breathed out a hushed confession of love before sitting upright, slinging both of your legs over his shoulders in a routinely fashion.

#HWNDLALELTMYMR #SORRU WVERYONE I DIED WRITING THIS #there’s more story than smut here actually! sorry for that #lonely night today..#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil 4 #cweampier

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prince-liest · 9 months

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some recent thoughts on Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao, and why even though I find Nie Mingjue very frustrating in the midst of his Baxia-induced anger issues, I think he’s also a pretty sympathetic character as a whole and it’s really understandable why he thinks the way he does

(as someone who ships 3zun and nieyao, and through the lens of “Jin Guangyao is my blorbo”)

I’ve seen a tendency to paint NMJ and JGY’s relationship in black and white in terms of who was fundamentally more in the right, which to be honest is not really the approach I take to fandom in general. to me the tragedy is that NMJ and JGY before JGY's casting-out had immense respect and perhaps even love (platonic, romantic, whatever) for each other. in the end, a lack of mutual understanding of each others' circumstances that could have otherwise eventually been overcome was driven, by bigotry, Jin Guangshan, and the Nie cultivation style, into becoming an insurmountable difference that eventually killed them both

NMJ definitely Did Not Get where JGY was coming from when JGY was making survival decisions and keeping secrets. he was simply not raised in a way where he ever even had to think about the types of choices that JGY has been forced to make since he was quite young. but at the same time, NMJ was a teenager raising his brother and his sect from a very young age and I think it's a disservice to his character to fail to acknowledge that his entire life he expected to die a young and horrific death, just like he watched his father die, and that this expectation deeply colors his approach to the world. JGY plays the long game. NMJ does not get to think about that, he just has to raise his brother, win a war, and try not to drive his sect into the ground before he kicks the bucket in a violent and gruesome manner. he does not have a choice about any of these things.

and said things are extremely difficult to do, especially as a teenager, which I think is a reflection of MDZS's whole thing where their entire generation is just traumatized by war and conflict and a dearth of genuine, honorable guidance and leadership, which leads to such fractures

but it's also a series of tasks that required the kind of attitude that Nie Mingjue develops, and that in combination with Baxia’s influence gives him this really immovable perspective on life that he just won't budge on with JGY. I think it’s really significant that when Jin Guangyao does regularly play Clarity for NMJ, they get along quite well. and I also think it's really understandable why NMJ is so stubborn and headstrong - he's had to fight his way through being sect leader and not take "no" for an answer, because what the hell else can a young, new leader do to avoid being taken advantage of? frankly even if he had taken up a bit of whatever guile Nie Huaisang didn’t hog from the Nie gene pool... why would he direct it towards self-preservation? he has no room for that kind of fear because he is going to be dead in a few years.

importantly as well, Nie Mingjue unjustly judges Jin Guangyao because he is unable to understand the context that JGY is coming from, but that same righteousness is the reason that he's the first person to have given Meng Yao a fair shake and rewarded his hard work and labor, and that matters a lot to Jin Guangyao and their relationship as a whole. you can’t really have one without the other unless you give Nie Mingjue time to grow up.

unfortunately, Nie Mingjue died his 20s, and was in his teens when the Sunshot Campaign began. look me in the eyes and explain to me what kind of behavior you expect from a 20-something with a magic rage sword.

#mdzs #the untamed #nie mingjue #nieyao #jin guangyao #that parting sentence is intended humorously not genuinely #please don't actually do that #also #/gesticulates wildly at luo binghe lmao #all-considered #I feel like if I have sympathy for binghe then I gotta have sympathy for nmj yfm?#I repeat for the love of god please don't come argue with me I started rotations again and I'm too tired #this is just because I like writing meta about my blorbos #mdzs meta #meta #my writing #im 27 atm and pretty sure that im older than nmj was when he died #which definitely colors my perspective

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