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#truly I don't know how I'm going to tag this on ao3
mooncello · 2 days
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Hi friends. I posted chapter 5 of more than a footnote last Sunday. It's over on ao3.
I'm working through some beats for chapter 6. Unlike some of you magnificent plotters, I hate outlines. They feel constricting to me. And the story shifts and evolves as I write. Characters reveal stuff to me as we spend more time together, and sometimes that necessitates plot changes or deeper subplots. It's also my greedy curious distractable brain. Like: Oh, but what if this happens? What if he did this instead? Truly, squirrel brain. But y'know those lil bushy-tailed fuckers can unintentionally plant oak trees so ... I will follow those acorn trails and play with a new thought or question, even if it wasn't originally plotted, to see whether it has a place in the story. It's kinda like having an ongoing conversation with the story as it's being written. It's humbling af and takes twice as long, I'm sure, than if I wrote an outline and stuck with it. But I've tried the detailed plotting thing, and it just doesn't work for me.
So I don't have anything from chapter 6 to share just yet. But I do have something else. It almost feels like a tease, because I don't know when I'll actually sit down and write the rest of this fic, but I finally figured out what direction lost boys is going. (Sometimes you follow the squirrel, and sometimes you let a story rest to see what emerges from quiet stasis.) I'm excited about it again. Which feels amazing. Here are way more than six sentences from chapter 3, Baz POV:
“How old were you,” I ask softly, “when you first came here?” “Eight.” He switches his hands behind his head and moves his shoulder blades against the earth, like he’s trying to get more comfortable. I have a sudden bolt of reckless courage. “Here,” I say and sit up fully. I scoot closer, angle my body, and wrap my palm around the curve of his head. Thankfully, he understands what I’m communicating and shifts until his head is resting in my lap. I suddenly find Simon staring directly up at me. An easy smile slopes across his face. “Hey,” he says. “Hi.”  I feel my own mouth stretch into a responding smile. There’s a delightful tumble of butterflies in my stomach. Without giving it any thought, my fingers thread through his hair, nails skimming his skull and then pulling away with curls between knuckles. The slightest of tugs. Release. Then I repeat the sequence over and over again. Simon melts against my thigh, and his eyes flutter closed. A tiny, contented moan leaves him, and I grow momentarily dizzy because I did that. That sound was because of me. “Feel good?” I murmur. “Mmph.” I’m glad his eyes are closed and can’t see me smirking. I’m so goddamn pleased. And he looks incredible like this. Relaxed and untroubled, draped over my lap.
tags under the cut!
thank you for the tags today @monbons and @orange-peony
🩵 ✨@drowninginships @valeffelees @run-for-chamo-miles @blackberrysummerblog @orange-peony
@youarenevertooold, @shrekgogurt, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @fatalfangirl
@cutestkilla, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @emeryhall, @raenestee
@iamamythologicalcreature, @bookish-bogwitch @thewholelemon, @best--dress, @rimeswithpurple
@ileadacharmedlife, @skeedelvee, @monbons, @j-nipper-95
@ic3-que3n, @theearlgreymage, @theimpossibledemon, @brilla-brilla-estrellita
@facewithoutheart, @larkral, @messofthejess
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flowerflamestars · 1 year
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Abattoir snippet
Cassian didn’t know why he did it. He knew these storms like he knew how to breathe- Maybe that was it. An effort, every day, to pull air in to lungs that seem to have forgotten their basic function, careening for listless misery to endless hectic drive, no sky open enough, clear enough, enough- Cassian was across the battlefield when Rhys died, might as well have been miles, and still, the day haunts him. He had loved his High Lord, true. A friend, if difficult- a brother, if only by bloody training. Cassian may no more have seen the whole of Rhys alive than Rhysand had been able to look and see the entire reality of the life Cassian had been living- between two peoples, between an aching dream he knew would break him to possess, what he woke screaming for, between myth and reality, Morrigan pulling him awake. Illyria was not home anymore. Velaris, too quiet. The House of Wind a refuge, still- warm stone and warmer magic, Morrigan quietly running the Court with the selfsame effortlessness as dragging her hands through his hair in benediction. Maybe that was why. It was a particular, excruciating, specific loneliness to be utterly alone in a bed with someone else. A gulf he cannot cross- to have everything he’s ever wanted in this empty, echoing, wretched fucking world and here Cassian still is- Cassian more than five centuries older than the last time and still, just Cassian as he’d been at twenty, tearing his fingers from Azriel’s ever-careful grip to throw himself toward thunder. That light, silver and godsgiven.
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lendeah · 8 months
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No, my love. I'm not jealous of the walking encyclopedia.
Summary: Astarion is very much not jealous of Gale being your magic teacher. And he is definitely not going to teach him a lesson. or Astarion gets jealous of Gale teaching you magic and decides to teach him his own lesson.
Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader.
Word Count: 4.1k
Tags: Jealousy, Possessive Behavior, Exhibitionism, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Possessive Sex, Vaginal Sex, Creampie , Public Sex, Public Nudity, Forest Sex, idk its a lot, Happy Ending, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings.
WARNING: +18, minors DNI
[AO3 Link]
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You would've thought Astarion wasn't one to be jealous. He was always so nonchalant when it came to sharing you with others, or watching you giving affection to the rest of the group. So tranquil and chill. And you liked that! You loathed controlling behavior on your partners, as it should be. But over time, you noticed small details that betrayed his true feelings.
Despite his calm exterior, he would bite your neck harder after having drinks with Karlach, leaving marks for days. Or sometimes, if Shadowheart got too close for comfort, the vampire would fuck you so hard that night you were barely able to move the next day. Laughing at Wylls jokes? He would eat you out for hours on end until you were pleading for him to stop.
But it wasn't just during sex that he showed hints of jealousy. One day, while sitting at the campfire, Gale brushed his hand against your arm playfully as he told a story. You didn't think much of it until Astarion's hand casually slid over your hip and pulled you closer to him, silently claiming you as his own. As his fingers gripped your waist, he leaned in and planted soft kisses on your neck, causing you to blush at the unexpected display of affection. This pattern persisted for days, and you couldn't help but notice that whenever someone got too close or flirted with you, Astarion would subtly place an arm around your shoulders or play with your hair. It was like some sort of game to him, though he would never admit it to you.
The worst came when Gale offered to teach you to do magic. You were surprised by how easily you seemed to pick up the magical arts. Gale was also an excellent teacher, patient and encouraging. It was exhilarating every time you successfully cast a spell or even conjured a small flame in your hand. As you continued to learn and practice magic with Gale, you would excitedly retell your experiences to Astarion. You loved every moment of it and couldn't contain your enthusiasm. And even though he loved teasing and taunting you about your newly acquired magical abilities, he was also impressed by it.
"You truly are a surprising little thing," he would say with a genuine smile as he watched you practice spells.
But soon enough, you noticed that every time you brought it up, he would go harder during the night, making sure you were moaning his name loud enough to wake everyone in camp. After one particularly intense session, you were lying next to him in his bedroll, lightly tracing your fingers over the bite marks on his neck
"Are you okay?" you questioned softly.
Astarion's hand stilled on your back as he looked at you.
"Why do you ask?" he replied, his voice guarded.
"I just... you have been behaving a bit weird lately when I talk about my lessons with Gale."
He just scoffed "I simply find it amusing to think about you spending so much time with Gale of all people; his constant rambling must be driving you to madness."
You raised an eyebrow at his response, not buying it for a second. "Come on, Astarion. I know you better than that. What's really bothering you? Are you jealous?"
He looked at you shocked for a second, but then just laughed. "Haha! No, my love. I'm not jealous of the walking encyclopedia."
You couldn't help but laugh at Astarion's response. "Walking encyclopedia? That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"
Astarion just rolled his eyes and shrugged. "He's got as much magic expertise as he has a knack for being utterly irritating."
You just chuckled and decided to overlook it for the time being.
A few days later you were in the middle of a class with Gale laughing together about a miscast spell you couldn't seem to grasp. The wizard came up from behind and placed his hands on your waist to assist with your movements. You were so focused on the task at hand that neither of you noticed Astarion's arrival until he loudly cleared his throat, causing you both to startle.
"Having fun without me, I see," Astarion said with a smirk as he leaned against the nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest.
Gale responded with a nonchalant roll of his eyes to Astarion's usual snide remark, but you couldn't help feeling annoyed, already knowing where this conversation was headed.
"We were just practicing," you said curtly.
"Is that right?" he drawled with a smirk. He sauntered towards you, his fiery gaze assessing every inch of your being."Well, I apologize for interrupting your lesson, my love, but I do require your assistance. It's a matter of urgency, you see."
"Right now? Can't it wait?" you interjected, wanting to get back to your lesson with Gale.
"Is there anything amiss? Do you require our assistance?" Gale asked, his hand still grabbing your waist. Astarion's gaze locked on the hand, his eyes reflecting something almost primal.
"Nothing that should concern you," Astarion snapped, eyes fixed on Gale."This is an important matter I need to discuss with her. Alone."
You could feel Gale tense up beside you, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. Sensing the tension between the two men, you quickly stepped out of Gale's grasp.
"Fine," you said with a sigh before turning to Gale. "I'll catch up with you later for our lesson."
Gale just nodded in understanding and gave you a small smile. Astarion didn't even wait for you to follow before walking in the direction of the woods. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior before catching up to him. He effortlessly navigated through the dense forest, leading you to a clearing not far from Gale's tent with his elegant and agile footsteps.
"What did you need to discuss?" you asked, trying to sound calm.
Astarion's intense gaze snapped back to you, and with swift strides, he closed the distance between you. Without warning, he pulled you into a sudden and passionate kiss that nearly knocked you off balance. The taste of his cool lips sent electricity coursing through your body, igniting every nerve ending like a blazing fire.
"W-wh-" you tried to mumble, but Astarion's kiss was almost suffocating, his hands gripping your waist tightly and pulling you closer to him. Finally, you were able to break free from his grasp and take a step back, taking in his disheveled appearance, "By the Nine Hells Astarion, what is wrong with you?!"
Astarion smirked, his eyes glinting with a mixture of lust and mischief. "Gale was getting too chummy with you, darling. And we can't have anyone stealing my spotlight. He's a ticking time bomb, after all," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.
You rolled your eyes and swatted at him, trying to hide your growing frustration. "Don't give me that, you know as well as I do he is perfectly fine. Just admit it, you are jealous!"
Astarion's smirk fell completely now, his eyes darkening with anger. "You have no idea what you're talking about," he spat, taking a step back from you.
"Oh please, Astarion. You don't have to pretend with me. I can see right through you. The casual touches, the nights you go harder, the biting... All this nonchalant act is getting out of hand!" you snapped back at him, your frustration now bubbling over.
A flicker of emotion crossed Astarion's face, revealing a petulant anger that made him look almost childish. "I'm not envious," he insisted, his voice dripping with frustration. "It's just...he's so aggravating! Always touching you and trying to make you laugh."
"He is teaching me, Astarion. That's what teachers do!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to him.
But Astarion didn't relent. "You may be oblivious, my dear, but I see the way he looks at you," he muttered, "Whether you're fighting or casting spells, his eyes are always on you. It's quite maddening, really."
A shiver ran down your spine at Astarion's words and you couldn't help but feel a little confused. "You are imagining things," you whispered.
Astarion's gaze intensified as he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing yours. "Am I?" he purred, "Did you not see the way he was holding onto you when I walked in?"
You felt yourself blushing under his intense stare. "That's just how he is, Astarion. He's a naturally affectionate person," you tried to explain.
He chuckled. "A naturally affectionate person, you say? And yet...it seems I've never received such affections from him," he said, his gaze trailing over to where your tutor stood behind the trees. He turned back to you with a sly grin, his hand snaking around your waist. "Maybe it's about time we teach him a lesson," he whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes and before you knew it, Astarion had pushed you back against a nearby tree, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss. Your thoughts faded away as you naturally wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Astarion’s grip drew you in, pulling you flush against him while his lips devoured yours. You were swept away by the sensation of his cold hands sliding under your shirt and along your back. Instinctively, your fingers tangled in his ivory hair, pulling at the curls and causing a low rumble to escape from his mouth.
But just as quickly as it began, Astarion pulled away with a satisfied smirk on his face.
"Oh darling," he purred in your ear, "what would your dear tutor say if he saw you now?"
Your face flushed hotly, a new wave of embarrassment washing over you.
"Astarion," you warned weakly, trying to escape his grasp.
But his hold only tightened, the arm around your waist bringing you flush against him once again. "Oh darling," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with amusement, his breath fanning your ear, sending jolts of electricity down your spine. "I'm just getting started."
Heart pounding in your chest, you willed yourself to meet his gaze. His crimson eyes bore through yours and despite everything that was happening, you felt a small flutter in your stomach. "You're impossible," you said finally, trying to sound stern but only succeeding in letting out a breathy sigh.
Astarion's lips curved into a wicked smile at your words. He leaned in close so you could feel the coolness of his breath on your skin and whispered, "Only for you."
Any further arguments were lost as he captured your lips once more with his own. The world around seemed to blur as you were consumed by the feeling of Astarion’s lips moving over yours. You could feel yourself melting into his touch, all thoughts of your tutor and any consequences forgotten.
Astarion's hand, which had been resting on your hip, began to glide down the length of your body until it reached between your legs. You couldn't help but let out a gasp at the unexpected touch, but Astarion only pressed himself closer to you, causing you to feel his hardness pressing against you. His hand continued to move teasingly, his fingers lightly pressing along the fabric of your trousers, causing small shivers to run through your body. You could feel yourself already dripping in anticipation, wondering if he could feel it through the fabric. The other hand that was now resting on your ass moved upwards, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. Your breath caught in anticipation as you felt the cool air hit your hot skin as Astarion opened your shirt fully. Astarion's hungry eyes roamed over your exposed chest, taking in every inch of your skin as his mouth descended on one of your nipples. He suckled and nipped at it gently with his fangs, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You moaned softly and arched your back, fingers buried in his hair, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the intense pleasure. Astarion's attention shifted to your other nipple, leaving a trail of wet kisses between them. You let out a small whimper as Astarion's hand finally slipped inside your trousers, his fingers exploring your wet folds.
Astarion's lips left your nipple and traveled upwards to capture your mouth once more, his tongue tangling with yours in a heated dance. As his fingers began to circle your clit, you couldn't help but moan loudly into his mouth.
He chuckled against your lips before breaking the kiss and whispering huskily in your ear, "You're so wet for me already."
At that your breath hitched, eyes traveling to the place where you could barely see the camp, watching as Gale read his book in the cushions of his tent. If he were to look in your direction, he would see everything that was taking place.
Astarion's fingers expertly explored your cunt, teasing and stroking your clit repeatedly. His lips never left your skin, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone as his hand continued its movements between your legs. He pulled back slightly, looking down at you with a heated glare, "Well, well, well. Look at you, dear. All hot and bothered."
You couldn't help but blush at his words, feeling slightly embarrassed by your own actions. Just then, your thoughts were interrupted by a loud snort coming from Gale's tent.
"What if he heard us?" you whispered frantically to Astarion.
Astarion shrugged nonchalantly. "Let him hear," he said with a sly smile. "Maybe it'll make him realize what he's missing out on."
You rolled your eyes at his cockiness but couldn't deny the thrill that ran through your body at the thought of being caught by Gale. Then, to your surprise, he suddenly dropped to his knees and began to lower your trousers down to your ankles before pushing them away. Your heart was racing with anticipation as he revealed your wet and throbbing core. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight before him.
"Delectable," he muttered, almost to himself, before he took your leg and placed it over his shoulder. Then, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against your core, using his tongue to explore every inch of you. You moaned at the feeling, gripping the back of his head as he sucked on your nub and licked along your slit. The sensation was overwhelming, causing you to buck your hips against his face. Astarion's hands tightened on your thighs in response, holding you still as he continued his ministrations.
His thumb caressed circles around your swelling clit, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he felt a surge of wetness spill from you at his touch. He then slowly pushed a finger inside of you, the sudden intrusion making you clench around him and grip his hair tighter.
"Such an exhibitionist you've become," he murmured, voice raspy. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, devilish delight dancing in them at your disheveled state. He added another finger inside of you, thrusting it in and out slowly while his rough thumb focused on your throbbing clit. You threw your head back in pleasure, biting your bottom lip to suppress the loud moans threatening to escape.
Suddenly, you heard Gale's voice call out from behind the trees, "Is everything alright over there?"
Astarion paused at the sound of his voice but didn't break away from you completely. He looked up at you with an amused grin, whispering, "Do we tell him, dear?"
The panic that had momentarily subsided returned full force, all the color drained from your face.
"T-tell him what?" you managed to say, trying to regain your composure as Astarion continued his teasing movements.
"That his lovely apprentice is currently being fingered by a vampire," he said with a mischievous look in his red eyes.
As you were about to retaliate, Astarion's fingers curled inside of you in just the right spot, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body and cutting off any coherent thought.
You let out a loud moan, despite your efforts to hold back. At this, Gale's voice called out again, sounding closer this time. You tried to protest, but the words were lost in another wave of pleasure as Astarion's mouth latched onto your clit and sucked hard. Your hand flew to your mouth, biting it to prevent more sounds from emanating.
"Oh, no, that won't do dear." He whispered, gripping your wrist to pull it away from your lips.
You looked down at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to stop and not let Gale discover you in this compromising position.
But Astarion only smirked up at you, his fingers still pumping inside of you as his tongue continued its assault on your clit. He shifted his position slightly, making sure that Gale wouldn't be able to see what was happening unless he came closer.
You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building and building until you were practically shaking with it. Astarion must have noticed, as he abruptly halted his actions and withdrew his mouth and hand, leaving you feeling empty and frustrated.
Before you could complain, his mouth was back on yours, swallowing any sounds that threatened to escape as his fingers found their way back inside of you. This time he didn't hold back, thrusting them in and out of you relentlessly while his other hand reached around to pinch and twist your already sore nipple. The sounds were so lewd and wet and loud, it was hard to imagine that Gale wasn't able to hear them.
"By the gods," you moaned in his mouth, breaking the kiss to gasp for air. "I need you. Now."
Astarion chuckled and pulled back to look at you, his red eyes glinting with desire. "You'll have to be more specific, love," he said teasingly, still keeping his fingers inside of you.
You could feel yourself getting more frustrated by the second. You needed him inside of you, filling you up and satisfying this aching need that had been building since he first touched you.
"Just...just fuck me already," you practically growled, finding it hard to form coherent thoughts with the way he was making your body tingle.
Astarion's smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he withdrew his fingers, licking them clean before whispering huskily. "Only if you don't hold back."
You grumbled under your breath as Astarion reached down and unbuttoned his pants, revealing his already rigid and eager member. Your heart races as you reach out, unable to resist the temptation, and wrap your hand around it, stroking lightly. He responds by lifting your leg with ease, wrapping it around his waist as he presses you against the rough bark of a nearby tree, igniting a burning desire within you.
He positioned himself between your legs, teasingly rubbing his hard length against your entrance.
With one swift thrust, he entered you fully, filling you up in all the right ways. You moaned loudly at the feeling of being filled by him, gripping onto his shoulders tightly. He began to move slowly at first, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in. Each time he hit that perfect spot inside of you, you couldn't help but let out another loud moan. You could feel your walls tightening around him.
"Say my name," he groaned, his red eyes locking with yours, "Say my name so he knows."
"A-Astarion!" You cried out, heedless of the echo that bounced back from the surrounding trees. He chuckled darkly against your skin, his hot breath fanning over your dampened neck and sending shivers down to your core.
"That's it, my sweet," he praised. "Let them know who's making you feel this good."
His arrogance was infuriating and intoxicating all at once. Astarion's pace quickened as he chased his release, the sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin filling the air. His hands tightened around your thigh and hip, almost painfully so, but the slight discomfort only added to the intense pleasure coursing through you.
The rough bark of the tree was also scratching your back painfully, and you knew that it would leave bruises and scratches from this encounter, but in this moment, all you could focus on was Astarion and the way he was hitting that spot inside you time and time again.
A rustling in the bushes caught your attention for a brief moment, but Astarion's hand grasped your neck and his signature glance brought your focus back to him. You knew what that glance meant; he wanted to claim you fully. Without hesitation, you offered your neck and he wasted no time, sinking his fangs into your skin. The sensation was overwhelming - both painful and pleasurable at the same time. You moaned loudly as he drank from you, and Astarion's thrusts became erratic and desperate. Your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling him closer to you as you moaned his name over and over again.
As he felt himself reaching his peak, he reached down to the space where your bodies joined, and pressed his rough thumb against the sensitive nub there. Your mind spun, your vision blurred, and the world seemed at once both too bright and too dark as you gasped out his name one last time before the intensity of the orgasm took your voice away. Astarion groaned deeply against your neck, his fangs dislodging from your skin. You could feel yourself clenching around him, milking him for all he was worth as he continued to thrust into you until he found his own release.
With one final moan of your name, Astarion climaxed, his body tensing as he spilled himself inside of you. He collapsed against your body, both of you panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath.
Stunned by the whole encounter and paralyzed by exhaustion, you hung limply against Astarion whose arms felt like steel bands around you holding you up against the tree. The rustling in the bushes grew louder now, more insistent but neither of you cared enough to investigate the source.
His gaze flicked down to inspect the puncture marks left behind on your skin and an expression of satisfaction washed over his handsome face. He pressed a soft kiss on the two small wounds before pulling away from you, his body still trembling slightly from the afterglow. As he pulled out, you could both hear and feel the squelching, as the remnants of his seed dripped between your legs. You were left panting and trembling against the tree trunk as Astarion straightened up with a satisfied smirk on his face. You looked up at him in disbelief.
"I can't believe...you did that..." You managed to say between breaths.
Astarion chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead before calmly fixing your blouse straight and helping you retrieve your pants, which were thrown in the aftermath. He cleaned your legs and core with his own shirt, and you pointedly ignored his proud grin. He seemed so calm and collected, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened between the two of you.
After you had composed yourself, you spoke firmly to Astarion. "Your jealousy is becoming a real problem," you told him. "This needs to be addressed. I'm not jesting this time."
As he started to speak, his usual defensive tone creeping in, you stepped forward and cup his face in your hands. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin, evidence of the recent blood he had just consumed. Your thumbs gently traced over his cheeks, trying to convey all the love and understanding you have for him in that simple touch.
"I crave you and only you. These displays are unnecessary to win my affections, for you already have them completely. Astarion, I am yours, wholly and unconditionally."
Astarion's eyes widened in surprise before they softened. He cupped your face in his hands now, mirroring your gesture. "You truly mean that?" he said in a small voice.
You nodded, looking into his eyes without fear or doubt. You have known for a long time.
Astarion's lips curled up into a genuine smile, fangs and everything, before he leaned down to kiss you again. When you finally broke apart from the kiss, Astarion seemed almost sheepish.
"Well, I must admit, I was a tad envious. But who can blame me? You are so beautiful and incredible." He sighed dramatically, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. "And now look where it's gotten us. My apologies for letting it get the best of me."
You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his words and embrace him tightly with your arms.
"Don't worry, a small public display isn't too terrible every now and then. But from now on, please let's keep our encounters in the privacy of our tent," you said with a playful wink.
Astarion chuckled and leaned down to kiss your forehead before returning the tight hug.
"I can do that," he said softly. "As long as I have you, I don't need any further exhibitions."
You smiled against his chest, feeling content and happy in his embrace.
"So, you think Gale caught us?"
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cc-kote · 9 months
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Nine people I'd like to get to know better
WOOPS I did not have time to do this for the past like, week but I've been wanting to bc I love silly little memes like this. Tytyty @ithillia for the tag :3
Last song: All Our Bruised Bodies And The Whole Heart Shrinks by La Dispute (It makes me think about Fives and it hurts so fucking much) 
Favorite colour: GREEN!! and also blue 
Last movie/TV Show: TCW of course, I had a Bad Autism Time™️ and my gf put on the fucking Umbara Arc to calm me down. It worked like a charm what the fuck is wrong w me lmfaooo. 
Sweet/Spicy/Savory: All of the above but spice hurts me. I do it anyway tho, mama raised a little bitch but she didn't raise a quitter lmfaoo. 
Relationship status: So fuckin down bad for my girlfriend hhh 
Last thing you googled: fuckjgn AO3 LMAOOO 
Current obsession: clonesclonesclonesclones forever. I haven't had a special interest/hyperfixation this deep since I was like 12-14 so like this is one of the most important things in my life tbh. Specifically like thinking about how their culture would work, and their solidarity, internal conflicts, shared trauma and how that would relate to those things. Their ideas about personal and cultural identity and how that would vary individually. Things like how their upbringing must have felt, how that affected them and who they became later in life, the things they're taught vs what they truly come to believe once they're out on the field, the psychological effects of O66 on the clones who survived and the devastating impact it must have had- Bro stop me or I'll keep going forever like. I'm in deep and tbh? I wouldn't change it for the world. 
NPT: LMFAO bold of this title to assume that I know 9 people on this site, or am brave enough to tag ppl I haven't talked to often fhsjdmksmf SO if you see this consider yourself tagged. Yes, You. idc if we've never talked It's probably bc I'm too baby, so (unless u don't feel like it) do it 👀 also @mamuzzy and @whatislifewithoutangst if y'all haven't already and wanna do this here u go! 
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owliellder · 1 year
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The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).
Cross posted onto AO3
Session 1: The Sketches
It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.
He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.
Younger agents. More energized agents.
The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.
Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.
Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.
Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.
Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.
Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.
It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.
What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.
He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.
And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.
So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.
The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.
It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.
Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.
How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?
Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.
But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.
The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.
Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.
The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.
After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.
Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.
It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.
He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.
As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.
There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.
The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.
The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.
But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.
About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.
The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.
"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."
Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.
"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.
"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.
The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."
From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.
Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.
He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.
While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."
Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.
The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."
Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.
The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.
He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.
"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.
The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."
The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?
"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."
A painting?
A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?
Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.
Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.
Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.
It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.
The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.
He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.
The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...
"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.
Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.
"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.
You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.
The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.
"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."
Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.
Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.
His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.
After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.
Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.
"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.
Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.
Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.
"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.
"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.
He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"
The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.
"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.
It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.
The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"
"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"
Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."
As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.
Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.
Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.
You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.
"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.
"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.
Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."
Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.
It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.
The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.
"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.
He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?
You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"
Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."
You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."
"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.
"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.
Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.
"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.
"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"
Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.
You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.
The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.
You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.
Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.
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I don't know what to think about anti proshippers anymore.
Antishippers say "stop normalizing child x adult ships" "stop normalizing incest" "stop romanticizing child x adult ships" "stop romanticizing incest" while being okay with romanticizing murder in some shows/movies and romanticizing cannibalism in some shows/movies. I didn't see any antiship throw hands the moment someone said "I like Hannibal" although it romanticize cannibalism. It's weird, isn't it?
Antishippers say "shipping fictional minor x adult ships is gross and disgusting" "shipping fictional incest ships is gross and disgusting" and "shipping X is gross and digusting" while being okay with telling real people to kill themselves. While being okay with telling real people "you should be raped" "you should be tortured" "you should burn in hell" and more things. Do you even pay attention to your actions and the actions of other people? How shipping two characters is worse than telling a real person "kill yourself"????
Antishippers say "you are gross" "you need help" "you're insane" "you need therapy" while being the ones who tell proshippers "you deserve to have trauma" "you deserved to be raped" (for those proshippers who were raped and were told they deserved it by antis- I'm so sorry). I'm no therapist, but if I were I would honestly find more disturbing an anti saying "kys" to a real person than a proshipper liking problematic fictional content.
Antishippers say "protect the children" "children could see this and think it's okay" "victims of pedophiles/abuse don't deserve someone romanticizing their trauma". You have no right to claim you want to protect children when you're harassing or telling children to kill themselves. Because yes, in the proship community there are minors. And no, they haven't been groomed into being a proship. Actually, if anything, they would have been groomed into being an antiship because they're scared of people telling them "kys" "you're a pedo" "you're fucking disgusting". And what are children doing in Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad anyways? They're not supposed to be here. They're not supposed to see content not made for them. If they are in these websites, I'm worried about why their parents aren't there to tell them "this is not a safe place for you". And if people were hurt by real pedophiles or were abused, I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for them. But why the hell they're seeing fictional content that triggers them? If it upsets them, then block the content, ignore its existence, and trust me, you will feel less upset and more happy.
Antishippers say "you deserve to be harassed" "if you don't want to be harassed then stop being weird" "if you don't want to be harassed then stop sharing that type of content". Do you realize you sound like those people who say "if you don't want to be harassed for being gay, then don't be gay" "if you don't want to be harassed for being trans, then don't be trans" "if you don't want to be bullied, then stop being a weirdo", right? Or you didn't realize that?
Antishippers say "this ship is fucking gross" "this ship is fucking disgusting". I'm sorry, didn't you see the thing that said "block button" "filter tags"? Because you can do that. If you don't like some kind of content, use the filter tags/block button. Watch the content you want to see. Use the block button and filter the tags. Search for the ships you like instead of the ships you don't like. I forgot something? Oh yeah. Use. the. block. button. and filter. the. tags.
Antishippers say "why there are so many fics of these ships on AO3?" "why people are so gross?" "why people have to write about this?". Bro- I'm sorry that you didn't realize before but- AO3. IS. A. FUCKING. WEBSITE. FOR. PROSHIPPERS. So don't start with the "Proship DNI" in your tags because AO3 is a PROSHIP web. If you don't like it, GET OUT of AO3 and go WATTPAD or FANFICTION. AO3 is for PROSHIPPERS and we're TIRED of your "Proship DNI" bullshit.
Antiship community is honestly one of the worst communities I've ever seen. There's no other community so inmoral, digusting, and horrible in the Internet.
To my proshippers fellows, if I forgot something antis say you're free to add it.
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oepionie · 2 years
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—"RED LACED HEARTS" various
💭masterlist | 💬ao3 link
sypnosis: leona, ace, & jamil with an s/o that gifts them a big bag of chocolates
⊹ [ cw ] — slight angst, hint of jealousy◞
⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF.GN! READER | leona sugar daddy era, jamil wants to throw hands w your suitors, ace gets jealous◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 1k+◞
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✩—LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:
"Happy Valen-"
"Didn't I tell ya' you didn't have to get anything for me?" Leona grumbles, taking the human-sized box of chocolates from you and dropping it onto his bedroom floor. Truthfully, Leona doesn't really see the use of valentines day. He hates the tacky gifts and how they're coloured in bright pinks and reds, garishly decorated and covered to the brim with hearts and laces.
What's so special about the holiday? You two are already a couple are you not? Isn't it only for mushy, lovesick idiots who can't even get past the hand-holding stage?
"I just wanted to give you a gift…but if you don't want it then I'll just take it back. That cost a lot y'know." You frown, bowing your head down to the floor. Leona's ears droop a bit and he sighs, getting off his bed to walk over to you. He places his finger under your chin, tilting your head up to look into his emerald-green eyes.
"Hey…I didn't mean it like that." He mutters, stroking your cheek with the rough pads of his thumb. The lion pulls you down to lie next to him, his tail wrapping around your leg.
"Know damn well you don' got enough to go by. I'd like it better if you use that cash for yourself." He says, wrapping his arms around your torso and spooning you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You smiled as you carefully undid the now-loose braids in his hair, running your fingers through his tresses.
Leona couldn't care less about chocolates, cheesy love poems, or teddy bears…but being the centre of your attention ain't so bad.
"Here." Leona takes your hand and places a thin plastic card in it. Confused, you examine the card for a while before turning to him. "Why are you giving me your credit card?"
"I'm taking you out shopping later. Use that, I'll pay for everything, no buts."
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✩—ACE TRAPOLLA:
Ace eyes the gigantic box of chocolates in your hands, a smug grin on his face. Oh, that was definitely for him. His sweet and adorable partner made him a special Valentine's Day present, making him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Prefect, you truly had no idea just how much you inflated his ego.
He casually leans against a table, clearing his throat. Holding in a laugh, you pretend to ignore him and continue scrolling through your phone. Once again, he is attempting to play the cool guy.
Ace furrows his brows, leaning in closer to you and clearing his throat louder this time. You stay silent and continue looking down.
"…"
"…"
"Oi! Prefect!" You smirk, letting Ace wrap his arm around your shoulder. He caved in quicker than you thought. His hand sneakily drifts over to the gift, fingers curling over the cover.
"Soo…who's this for?" He beams at you, all excited like a puppy.
Ace looked so happy…it was too bad you decided to mess with him today. Smiling back, you snatched the gift away from his grasp.
"It's for Deuce!" You pipe up. His eyebrows rose to his forehead as his face and jaw dropped. He raced forward to try to grab the present away from you, screaming "DEUCE?"
You dodged him and ran to the opposite side of the room. He gawked at you, practically seething with anger and jealousy.
"I-I'm your boyfriend! Not him! Why-" He sputters out, hands grasping your shoulders. He shook you back and forth, whining.
"What kind of partner doesn't buy their boyfriend anything but give their best friend chocolates? "
"Calm down. Of course, it's for you." Rolling your eyes, you grasp his hand in yours. You dragged the box towards him before timidly brushing a kiss against his cheek. "H-Happy Valentines Day."
He seized the chocolates from you right away and gazed at them like they were the most priceless thing in the world.
"MAN! You really gotta pull these lame jokes all the time? These better be the best chocolates I've ever tasted!" Ace joked, popping a heart-shaped piece into his mouth. He sent you a boyish smile. "Well…since it's coming from you, I'm sure it'll be the best."
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✩—JAMIL VIPER:
Jamil scowled at the jumbled presents and love letters sitting atop your desk. His hands grasped a box of his own, itching to just rip every single gift out of there. How in the world was he going to get his present inside of that mess?
Even though he was your lover, he couldn't even get his present through—damn these suitors!
"Jamil?" He jumped and turned to face you, a sheepish expression on his face. You were looking up at him brightly, holding an enormous pink box in your hand. He noticed how your arms shook with the weight of carrying the entire thing.
"Happy Valentines Day!" You cheered, holding the box up to him. He gently took it from your hands, eyes soft. His irritation had melted away into something warm and gentle, these feelings making his heart beat faster and his palms sweat.
"Thank you, prefect. Oh, and this is for you." Jamil handed you the neatly wrapped box, filled will all sorts of handmade sweets and pastries. He rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed at the somewhat lacklustre gift.
Jamil's eyes darted to the stack of presents atop your desk, he swore he saw a brand-new phone in there somewhere.
"I know it's not much but it's from me…It's not as expensive or as flashy as some of the other gifts you received but-" He was interrupted as you hurried to sweep the heaps of presents off your desk and into Grim's, the cat looking more than happy to receive so many things.
You turned back to him, clutching the gift tight in your arms. "It doesn't matter! I only want your gift!"
Jamil felt his heart skip a beat. With a rare smile on his lips, he pressed the bright pink box against his chest.
"Me too."
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Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!
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soap-ify · 9 months
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nsfw below , mdni.
YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader.
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02 — you believe me like a god, i destroy you like i am.
chapter summary — after chaos broke out during your work, simon attempts to comfort you in his own way.
tags / cw — angst, reader almost has a panic attack, reactions from bad anxiety, reader is yelled at, verbal assault, violence (simon beats someone up), tending to wounds i don't know how that thing works, just reader and simon being awkward, simon is very self aware, smut 18+, outercourse, grinding through clothes, p in v. [3.8k words]
☆ reader written with afab anatomy but gender neutral terms.
masterlist | ao3 | prev | next
If you had the choice to disappear into the void, you would.
The cafe was quite crowded, which was a good thing for the place but not so welcoming for you. The customers kept on rushing in, rambling out orders while you hastily gave them their stuff while trying your best to not mess anything up. You knew the others were working just as much as you, and you didn’t want to seem selfish by thinking that you were having it the worst out there.
Though your brain truly was horribly overwhelmed with the amount of faces in this small cafe. The heat made your head throb, causing you to rub your hands over your face and take a few deep breaths, afraid that you’d break down in front of everyone, feeling your palms getting clammy. It was so hard to keep your voice controlled and polite while talking to the others, making sure that it didn’t crack.
You despised busy days.
Simon was sitting alone at the far edge seat inside the cafe, a cup of bitter black coffee on the table while his brown eyes blankly stared at you, observing your struggles that you seemingly masked quite well in front of others, but well, not for him.
The rest of the taskforce wasn’t here today since it wasn’t a weekend, and normally Simon himself would have never willingly come over at a crowded place like this. But he was feeling too restless in his apartment. Maybe he just needed fresh air. His mind kept on making dumb excuses, even though he was fully aware that he just wished to see you.
Plus it was always somewhat comforting knowing that he would keep you safe.
You were aware of him, aware of his eyes on you and words couldn’t describe how grateful you were. It was as if his familiar presence was the only thing keeping you sane during this shift, knowing that once this was over, you could talk to him if he’d let you.
You had just given the person standing in the front of the queue their coffee, watching them leave before the other person came at the front — some guy who was probably around your age, looking at you with a wolfish grin plastered on his lips that sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.
“What would you like, sir?” You asked politely, fumbling with the fabric of your apron behind the counter, thankfully hidden from everyone’s sight. Inhale, exhale.
“A large cup of espresso, sugar.” That man replied, the pet name causing you to internally grimace. Fucking disgusting.
You silently nodded and went back to go over to the coffee machine, only to find out that one of the ingredients had run out. Today truly was your unlucky day.
A wave of panic shot over you as you walked over to the counter once more, facing that man. “I-I am sorry, sir… It seems like the espresso can’t be made due to the shortage of some stuff…” You were unable to hold in the little stammer in your words this time, your breath hitching at the way some anger began making its way over to that man’s face, his mood taking a huge swing. Volatile.
It scared, no, terrified you to see someone angry over something you said. It reminded you of your own parents, reminded you of things you no longer had wished to recall at this point.
“Fuck you mean shortage? What kind of cafe is this?!” The man snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at you, his seething rage causing you to freeze on your spot. Fuck, everyone was looking. You hated this — hated the way you flinched at his loud voice, hated the way everyone was staring at you, silence taking over the cafe before soft murmurs could be heard here and there. Gossiping about this.
As if this was just a joke to them, as if all of this was normal.
“I-I understand your anger, sir… But—” Your words were cut off by his impatient slam on the counter. Your eyes widened and everything for a second seemed too silent, too unbearable. Don’t panic, don’t panic…
“You useless slag. Why don’t you just quit this job and—”
“Fucking get off her, you bastard.” A large hand grabbed the strange man’s collar and shoved him out of your sight, snapping you out of your thoughts.
Simon. You had almost forgotten that he was here too. Another wave of humiliation and helplessness hit you as you just stood there, feeling like a weak idiot.
You didn’t even have to speak, not that you were going to, before Simon pulled the man back up on his feet. “You. Come with me.” He growled and dragged the man out of the cafe, leaving behind an unsettling thick layer of silence caused by the commotion. Over a fucking coffee.
Everyone saw it. Everyone saw you getting yelled at. Everyone saw you being fucking useless.
You soon realised that tears had begun blurring your vision, causing you to hastily undo your apron and scurry off into the staff room.
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Simon had that horrendous man thrown into an eerily quiet alley with no one in sight except them both.
“Who do you think you’re messing with?” He growled under his breath, fingers curled up into fists, knuckles a bit bruised and bleeding after having repeatedly punched the man on his face, resulting in a broken nose and some broken teeth. Honestly deserved worse.
Simon didn’t know why he was so angry. He just hated seeing you already on the edge before this man just came in and messed everything up. How dare he yell at you? Scumbag. Simon wanted to spit at him and throw him in the bin like the fucking garbage he was, but he knew that someone could always walk by even in an isolated alley like this and he definitely didn’t want unnecessary attention.
Adrenaline was coursing through Simon’s veins and he could hear the blood rushing into his ears. He looked scary above the man, brown eyes wide and deadly. The fact that his face was covered in that balaclava made him look all the more inhuman.
Thank goodness you weren’t here to witness this.
In Simon’s mind, this was who he really was. Roughened up and turned into this rageful mess after years of brutal training and even worse missions. Trained like a fucking dog. Maybe that was what he was. A dog. Not a human, just a pathetic dirty thing who only knew the worst, who only knew the wrongs.
He was his own poison, killing himself on his own.
With one last kick on the stomach, Simon left the man to weep alone in the alley. He didn’t have to deal with someone like that anymore, all he could think was of you and how you probably were feeling right now.
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Your manager had luckily let you end your shift early today, albeit still having scolded you for creating such a ruckus inside the cafe. For ruining a nice busy day. It made your throat tighten, making you feel as if everyone was blaming you for this. Maybe it really was your fault.
You silently stood outside the cafe, staring down at your hands that were clasped together, your fingers visibly trembling. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to clear the fog in your head. Your moment of silence was broken by the familiar sound of soft footsteps nearing you.
Yes, you had memorised his footsteps. You knew everyone’s, actually. And his were your favourite — oddly soft and quiet, juxtaposing to what you initially expected from someone of his size. He was probably very skilled in sneaking up behind the people.
Simon silently stood besides you, not uttering a word. For a whole minute, it was just silence between you, your eyes nervously darting around before landing on his hands that were uncharacteristically not covered in his usual gloves that he wore all the time except for when you both were all alone.
And that’s when you noticed it, his bleeding knuckles.
“Simon…” You breathed out in panic, voice laced with concern as your eyes repeatedly shot back and forth between his face and his hands. What the fuck happened?
“Didn’t want my gloves getting dirty.” He mused gruffly, his eyes slowly looked down at you, causing you to knit your brows even more.
“He’s not gonna bother you again, love. No one is.” He finally mumbled after a few seconds, one hand of his reaching out to gently ruffle your hair. He really wasn’t bothered by the mild cuts on his knuckles. In fact, he really didn’t care. He wasn’t even thinking of bandaging it.
“Let’s go to my place.” You urged him, lips a bit pouty while worry was etched over your face.
He couldn’t help but find you adorable.
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Once you both reached your apartment, you were quick to push him onto the couch and hastily grab a first aid kit, scurrying over to sit beside him on the couch.
“Show me your hands.” You mumbled softly, causing him to reluctantly let your gentle hands hold his callused, larger hands. What a contrast. He felt guilty for making you hold such a dirty, damaged thing.
You were quick to clean up his hands, carefully touching the cuts with the cotton pads. You didn’t even want to imagine what Simon was capable of. Your eyes scanned his hands carefully, admiring every scar on his skin.
You never really thought much of it. Sure you knew that he was in the military, always doing some sort of highly dangerous work. But you never really saw that side of his — scary one. So it was fairly easy to forget his real strength until moments like these came to remind you. Though you never really disliked him for it.
You don’t think you could ever dislike him. He was just… everything.
Ever since you both have come to your place, all you could think about was how he stood up for you. You didn’t like pity, but the fact that someone cared, especially if that someone was Simon, made you feel all the more warmer aside.
He did care for you, right? Were you too fond of him? Too in awe of him?
You dabbed some antiseptic on the cuts before applying some cute panda bandaids on his knuckles. He stared at them questionably, brows furrowed though an amused scoff soon escaped his lips behind the mask. “You don’t own normal bandaids?”
“These are normal!” You grumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment.
“Just kiddin’... They are cute like you.”
You got up to put the kit away and wash your hands before coming back to sit besides him, pulling your knees to your chest, silence filling the room up once more.
Simon could see how you were still shaken up, the frown etched on your face accentuating the storm of thoughts raging inside your head. It made his heart ache, though he didn’t move a muscle at all, silently staring at you from the corner of his.
He didn’t know how to comfort you at all.
All he knew was how to handle guns and beat up people. All he knew was how to ignite a sense of terror within people.
Simon didn’t want to think of himself as a monster, the word alone making him think of no one other than his father. He wasn’t that man, he wasn’t.
He sighed behind his balaclava after a while and shuffled a bit closer to you on the couch, his arm brushing against yours.
Your body tensed up for a second, and he was just about to back away once he sensed it before you eventually relaxed and leaned into him, a trembling sigh escaping your lips. He was warm, and you couldn’t help but think of him as a blanket that was shielding you from the world. A protector. Though he really wasn’t that, right? What even was he to you?
You didn’t want to think of that right now, not when your brain was already so exhausted after everything that happened today, the little bit of confidence you had already shattered.
Simon’s hand slowly snaked behind your back, drawing lazy discreet circles on your waist through the fabric of your shirt. You could make out some of them — a circle, then a star, then some random incomprehensible shape that he probably just made up on the spot and then a star again. This act of his made you smile a bit, your eyes fluttering up to look at him, only to find him looking back at you.
You had caught him staring at you multiple times before, but this moment felt so different — more cozy and intimate. It made your heart skip a beat, your brain feeling all foggy due to the sudden wave of happiness shooting within you.
Simon probably noticed the change in the air too since his hand was quick to pull back and settle on his lap, fingers drumming on his thigh, pretending as if nothing happened. It left you confused, disappointed even, but more so at yourself then at him. Why were you making every little interaction with him such a big deal? He didn’t like you the way you liked him.
Simon was silent for a while, multiple thoughts going on within his head. His large hand slowly drifted towards you once more, this time towards your thigh, fingers absent-mindedly caressing you. Well, he could comfort you in the way he knew of.
Your body was quick to react to his touch, your breath hitching while you were simultaneously a bit embarrassed of how you were so used to his touch, used to the way his caresses would make you squirm. You could already pick up on his intention behind this, to somehow get your mind off whatever happened in your job today.
“C’mere, love…”
His callused hands pulled you onto his lips with ease, holding onto your hips, your face facing his, eyes meeting. You swear you could feel the world slowing down every time your eyes would meet his, his stare alone coaxing you to lean into him, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck while your fingers curled up into the fabric of the large grey hoodie he was wearing.
“I’ll take care of you. I promise.” His gruff voice came out as a whisper, making your heart swell yet ache at the same time. Yes, please take care of me, these words repeated over and over in your head while you sheepishly nodded against his neck.
His hands were quick to work, not letting you do a single thing, lifting your hips up gently as he slid down your pants, carefully removing them all the way down, letting it drop to the ground. Your hands reached down in attempted to undo his pants, though he just lightly smacked your hands away and shook his head, huffing softly as he unbuckled the belt and unzipped his pants on his own, tugging them alongside his boxers just a bit so his cock was free from the restraints, already semi-hard.
Your mouth watered at the familiar sight that always made you all heated up and blustered, blood rushing to your cheeks while your eyes stared down at his cock, admiring the veins that adorned it. It was just perfect — girthy and uncut.
“Simon…” A meek whine left your lips while your eyes literally pleaded him to do something, anything to just somehow make your mind empty, to let you forget about everything, to let you pretend that everything was fine. Pretend that you were with him.
His cock twitched at the noise you made, one hand of his tight gripping your hip in position while his other hand gently grabbed the base of his cock, beginning to rub the head against your clothed cunt, watching the way a wet patch was forming on your panties.
“D-Don’t tease me like this!” You grumbled, nibbling on your bottom lip as you felt the swollen head of his now hardened up cock bumping against your clothed clit, making your hips bucking towards him, desperate for more.
“Don’t nibble your lip like that, love. You’re gonna bruise it.” He breathed out, his eyes falling onto your lips that looked so kissable, making him clench his jaw behind that balaclava of his. No, he couldn’t kiss you.
He continued to play with you like this, rubbing and smearing his precum on your panties, continuing to grind against your clothed cunt, ruining this pair of panties. You mentally noted that you should buy some new ones this weekend.
It wasn’t until a few moments later that you started to feel the familiar tight knots building in your abdomen, a soft whimper leaving your lips while your fingers tightened around the fabric of his hoodie, desperately grinding back against his clock. “P-Please, please, Si… So close, pl—”
He stopped, gently pushing you slightly backwards on his lap so his cock was no longer touching you. A frustrated sob left your lips as you glared at him in confusion, eyes all glossy and he couldn’t help but grin behind his mask, noticing how adorable you looked like this. He already knew that he had successfully distracted you from your thoughts. He knew this wasn’t the ideal way. Hell, he should have actually cuddled with you and shared some comforting words. But fuck, he can’t. He shouldn’t. He is already being selfish enough with this whole thing you two have going on, and he definitely doesn’t want to risk progressing into something more.
He was a fucking asshole, he knew it. He knew of how he didn’t deserve you, and you definitely didn’t deserve a broken, fucked up in the head man like him. You deserved better.
But you two were already so far into this, weren’t you?
“Ssh, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum properly.” He assured you, gently pulling you into him once more, his fingers pushing your panties aside and giving your throbbing clit a few sweet rubs before positioning the head of his twitching cock in front of your entrance, looking at you while you were looking down at the spot your bodies were about to be connected at, literally swooning.
“Please…” You pleaded, feeling his cock gently smear your slick all over your folds before beginning to gently push into your tightness, a quiet grunt leaving his lips at the way you clenched around you, still struggling to fully get used to the way his girth would stretch you out. Your head fell onto his shoulder, panting softly as you tried to relax, feeling him slide into you slowly, inch by inch until he was fully snug inside your tight cunt, the cloth of your panties gently grazing against the side of his shaft.
“Takin’ me so well, aren’t ya? Always do. That pretty cunt of yours is so perfect.” He praised hoarsely into your ears, his affectionate words driving you over the edge, feeling him begin to lazily fuck his cock in and out of your fluttering cunt, hitting the spongy spots inside you with ease, as if having them all memorised within his head. Shaky moans would leave your lips at the blissful feeling, eyes rolling back into your head once you felt the head of his cock slam against your cervix, him making sure that it wasn’t painful at all. His hand massaged your hip gently, fondling the flesh and gently guiding you to grind against him while his other hand slid in between your connected bodies, caressing the moist skin of your thigh before moving in between to lightly rub your clit, feeling you clenching around him tightly.
You felt fuzzy, leaning into him fully to let his warmth relax you, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against you while your eyes fluttered shut, head fully nuzzled into his neck. You felt the knots building up again, even stronger this time, leaving you with no time to warn him before your orgasm washed over you hard, your walls spasming around him while a muffled moan left your lips, his fingers rubbing your clit just heightening up your sensitivity. He breathed heavily, his eyes filled with adoration at the way you cummed around his cock, his shaft having a white ring around him, filling his heart with a sickeningly proud feeling at the realisation that only he was capable of making you cum so hard, of making you get rid of all those thoughts.
His own orgasm flooded within him soon after, balls tightening up as he pulled his cock out of your cunt and gave it a few pumps, spraying the thick strings of his cum all over your sweaty, trembling thighs.
Both of you were breathing heavily, tingles spreading through your skin that made you smile at how full of pleasure you felt right now, all floaty as you fully collapsed onto him, clinging onto his tight while his sticky cock rested against your inner thigh, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your lower back.
“Si… Thank you so much…” You sleepily babbled, your breathing getting calmer.
He wished that he could show you the stupid smile that was spread on his face right now.
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“I am goin’ to go for deployment after two days.”
He randomly announced that night, causing you to freeze and look away from the movie you both were watching and towards him, eyes all wide. What the fuck? And here you were being happy that he had decided to stay with you tonight, having agreed to spend some time with you.
You were making it all up, all this happiness and whatever feelings and signals you thought you were getting from him. Deployment. God, you hated that word and the way it filled you with dread, the way it always left you all anxious during the weeks he’d be away, fighting god knows who, literally a mistake away from walking on a bridge from life to death.
“How long…?” You quietly asked, trying not to seem so fazed by his sudden words, fingers fiddling with your shirt while your eyes looked away.
“Dunno… I believe it won’t be longer than two weeks. Don’t worry, love.” He mumbled after a while, subtle warmth lingering in his voice as his hand reached to gently caress the back of your head, causing you to sigh softly and lean into him, frowning a bit.
“Okay… Stay safe, Si.”
You trust him. Of course you do.
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Liar. Fucking liar. It had been three weeks, three weeks without any contact from him, or any news from him. He wasn’t on this mission with Kyle as far as you knew, so there was no point in asking him.
Was Simon safe? Was he wounded? Did he get captured? Did he get tired of you? Is he finally getting rid of you? Is he… abandoning you?
You tried to shake these thoughts off your mind, trying to remember that his job was a hard one. Still, you stupidly kept grabbing your phone, desperate for any notification or noise.
Only to be met with silence.
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notes : thank you so much for the support on the previous chapter :( !! i feel truly grateful. also... feeling evil i love fucking stuff up for simon.
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winchester-reload · 1 year
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Directions: Fill each prompt ON or After each day listed (the 1st-15th of October, then again on the 31st for our bonus day), then post it on your desired social media platform using tag #suptober23. Be sure to include which prompt you're fulfilling in each post. You can write, you can make art. You can do both! You decide. Rules: All posts must be Supernatural-themed. Like, comment, and reblog others' posts. No hate will be tolerated, including actor hate. NO AI. Do not throw a photo in a Photoshop filter and post it as art. Challenge yourself to create. Noncon, incest, and hate will not be reblogged.
To include your work in the Suptober 2023 archive, you must ALSO post it to the collection in Ao3!
In previous years, I've worked diligently to reblog each and every post listed in the tag to include in an archive on tumblr. However, more than a few things have changed in the past six years, including my earlier creeping bedtime. This year, I'd like to move the archive to Ao3 for something more inclusive. That means this year, it's up to you to get your work in there! Authors: be sure to use tags so your stories are searchable! * Artists: mind ao3's rules for images. You may choose to include a clickable link instead of the art itself.
Posting starts October 1st, 2023.
Special thank you to my friends over on Patreon for their help with this year's list! Truly without them, this would not be happening. Consider joining to help support more events like this! For a text copy of the prompts go here! Join the Discord
FAQ's
Why aren't there 31 prompts this year? Because I'm changing it up to something a little less overwhelming for you and me. Fill all the days, and if you're still hungry for more, send me a message and let me know it wasn't enough so I can take that into account for next year!
I posted my work and you haven't reblogged it. What did I do wrong? Probably nothing. I may have just missed it, which will happen. The good news is, it's up to you to include your work in an archive this year, so be sure to do that! Also be sure to tag it correctly using #suptober23, and the day you're fulfilling.
I'm really busy in October, can I post it later? Yes! The collection won't close.
I can't write or draw, is there another way I can participate? Yes, you can support all the creators by liking, commenting, and reblogging their work. It's just as important as the things being posted. Also, I bet you'll soon realize you absolute can make art and write too! There's no skill level required to have fun.
How long do the stories need to be? There's no word length just be sure to make a good effort, and challenge yourself.
Can I include multiple days in one fic? Sure, but don't post early, and be sure to tag for each day both here on tumblr (if you're posting to tumblr) and on Ao3. In the past, people have used each prompt as a new chapter, and that works great for a cohesive project!
Can I repost the prompt list with my posts? Yep. Go ham. Use at will.
More questions for me? Send me an ask!
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disillusioneddanny · 8 months
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Hate in the dpxdc tag.
I have seen a major influx recently of people complaining about popular dpxdc tropes in the DPxDC tag as well as people just sharing hate in the tag again.
And yes, your feelings are valid, you are allowed to not like things in a fandom and you should be able to talk about it.
BUT there is something called fandom etiquette
With this lovely term, fandom etiquette, there are important things to remember.
don't yuck someone else's yum
just because you don't like something, does not mean that others can't like it. I've seen people go in the tag with things like "why is everyone writing ghost king danny? that's such an overused trope and it's not even good" and while you may feel like that, there are definitely people who truly enjoy ghost king danny and by making that post visible where people can see, you're just making people feel bad for enjoying something.
Again, you're allowed to dislike something, but if your dislike is making someone else feel bad about enjoying it, you're just being mean.
2. Don't put hate in the main tag.
if you really, really just need to complain/vent about a trope or something you don't like about a fandom, then do it!! that's totally fine. But don't tag it with the main tags. If you're tagging your hate post with #dpxdc or any of the variations of the tag, you're doing that so that people can see that hate and this goes back to number 1. don't yuck someone's yum.
if you really want to complain about it, don't tag the post, or tag it #antidpxdc so that people can filter out the post so that people do not have to see your hate when they are scrolling through a fandom tag to just enjoy their blorbos.
"but I don't like this thing and i'm allowed to voice my opinion "
I totally get not liking something in fandom, I really do. There are plenty of tropes or ships that squick me out. And those feelings are valid, but i also know that there are people in fandom who genuinely enjoy those things and it's easy for me to avoid reading those tropes.
filtering content is super easy! Ao3 is a very user friendly archive with really simply ways to filter out content. Don't want to see ghost king danny? exclude that tag in your searches. Will that mean that all of them are taken off? probably not. Unfortunately not everyone tags their works with every single aspect of their story. And sometimes authors just miss things! And that's totally okay. But guess what? the back button is right there. you can exit out of the fic so easily without having to leave a comment to complain or without posting about how much you vehemently hate ghost king danny on tumblr in the dpxdc or the DP tag. Just don't tag your complaints :) it's that easy. Or if you really want to.
I know that the DP fandom has a very fraught history with the word anti from back in the day and that's totally understandable, that was a rough time that caused a lot of trauma for a lot of people. So if you don't feel comfortable tagging a post with #anti or #antidpxdc that's totally fine, just don't tag it at all. Or at the very least put in your tags that you're complaining or hating on something so that it's easier for people to filter out your posts where they don't have to see them in the main tag.
You're totally allowed to not like things. But remember that someone else does and you might be making them feel bad for not liking it and that means you're screwing up someone else's fandom experience and that's a pretty shitty thing to do imo.
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yayakoishii · 4 months
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*cracks knuckles* ok so Sanji x reader where it’s basically the time in between Sanji leaving for wci where both the reader and Sanji are fucking shattered and they’re both miserable trying but failing to do what they need to do while also processing that the other isn’t around, like not a separation anxiety kinda way but like they genuinely make eachother a better person and they’re in love kinda way. and basically it’s the straw hats being a supportive family to the reader and Sanji’s family going “what the fuck is this guys deal” since they didn’t know abt reader. You can add a happy ending if you want but I’m talkin real angst.
beyond logic | Sanji x Reader
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Genre/Tags: Angst, Open Ending?
A/n: thank you for the request!! I tried my best to write this but I don't think I'm good at writing heavy angst much ;-; I'm more of a fluff writer so I struggled and I don't feel 100% satisfied with this but it's the best I could do...
I added in a little bit of more detail to this, I hope you don't mind! I tried to keep in everything you mentioned but if I missed anything or misunderstood, I truly apologise! Hope you enjoy this and that it is to your liking ♡
also available on ao3!
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Everything Pekoms was saying had to be a lie. (It wasn't, you knew that.)
Sanji could never be related to Germa 66. That made no sense to you. After all, Germa were heartless, cold-blooded killers. Your Sanji was the kindest man in the world who hid his sweet nature beneath an uncaring and harsh attitude. Your Sanji was the man who smiled so bright, it gave you hope and not despair, like Germa's name did.
Of course, Sanji wasn't actually yours. You had never actually had the courage– or rather, the need to make your feelings verbally known. You knew. Sanji knew. What you two had was no secret to you, even though you hadn't put on any labels. You could see the intensity in his eyes, could feel your own heart thudding in his proximity. Your heart was no longer yours and the man who had it was long gone.
You collapsed onto your knees, tears streaming down your face as your mind went haywire. Sanji was trapped in between Big Mom and Germa 66. How were you supposed to get him back?! That idiot had simply left a note saying ‘I will be back. I'm going to meet a woman.’ and expected it to work?!
Bitterness unlike ever before spread inside your heart. You were not weak by any means, but neither were you strong enough to take on Big Mom or Germa. In this moment, you hated yourself for being so weak that you couldn't protect and bring back the man you loved. From a practical point of view, one could even suggest that dropping Sanji and going off to Wano would be the most logically sound move for the Strawhat pirates.
Fortunately for you, the captain of the Strawhat pirates was not a practical or logical person.
"Why are you crying, (y/n)?" Luffy stood in front of your crouched form, head tilted just slightly. You tried to suck up the tears running down your cheeks but it only felt like more would come out. "We're getting him back."
Luffy's face didn't hold any doubt or fear. It never did. You on the other hand were full of both. Never in your wildest dreams did you think it possible to take on one of the four emperors of the sea and the kingdom that erased your island by providing their services in the war your country was in. You were realistic and you knew that it was impossible, yet… When you looked at Luffy's determined face, even something so impossible seemed attainable.
Luffy could do anything he set his mind to. You couldn't imagine defeating Big Mom, but you also couldn't imagine Luffy losing. And amidst all of that, you couldn't imagine getting Sanji back. He was gone. There was a highly likely chance you would never see him again.
Outwardly, you continued to just stare blankly at Luffy and he knew his words weren't getting to you. You were usually a calm and rational person, always there as the voice of reason for the ship. Right now though, everyone could tell that you were in a state of shock and despair. Nami swooped in and pulled you into a hug, like the ones you usually gave everyone else when they needed it. The touch stopped your thoughts and instead you focused on the feel of her skin on your own.
"You're not alone," she whispered. You clutched onto her, tears slipping from your eyes. "I know it's scary. I know it seems impossible. But I also know that it's worth it for you."
It was. All your reasoning had flown out of the window when you heard that Sanji was gone. The thing about being in love was that it made you stupid. It made you give up what is logical in favour of doing what is impractical but desired. You wanted to see Sanji again. You wanted to hold him in your arms and tell him how you felt out loud. Even though he knew without you saying it, you wanted to say it to him. You wanted him to hear those words and come back with you.
The thing about being in love was… you were ready to risk death for a chance to see him again.
You were really being stupid. But it seemed to make sense to your heart.
"(Y/n)," Chopper placed his paw on your knee. You looked down at him with downturned eyes. "You love him. He loves you. So come with us. We'll get him back together. There's no way he actually wants this more than what he had here."
"Sanji may act like a fool," Robin placed her own hand on your head and you found yourself suddenly surrounded by everyone. Even Zoro was standing closer than usual, offering you silent support. "But he cares. And I'm sure, if you ask him, he will come back."
You watched them all, looking at you with kind smiles. Neither you nor Sanji had ever spoken your love out loud. It was a decision that only made sense when you were on a pirate crew as small as the Strawhats. To avoid any awkwardness and to not have to keep a relationship secret, it was the logical course of action.
But… you couldn't hide your feelings even if you didn't speak about them. Your love had made itself known to everyone in your crew and they were still here. They were the only family you had in the world now and so…
You decided to trust them on this one.
"Okay," you nodded and stood up, wiping away your tears. Your crew patted on your shoulders and back and every bump instilled more confidence in you. Your goal was not to defeat Big Mom or Germa 66.
Your goal was to bring back Sanji.
"Let's do this."
Sanji already missed you.
To be fair, he had been missing you from the moment you separated on Dressrosa but now, sitting with his ‘family’ and having dinner… Right now, he missed you more than ever. Every bite of the food only reminded him of your smiling face, your kind words and the sound of your laughter.
They said that if you love something, you should let it go. Sanji didn't like that phrase much. He believed that if you loved something, you should hold onto it for as long as you could. As long as you let him, he would be there for you. And he would love you even if you did not love him anymore. It had been the only natural answer when he realised his feelings for you.
He didn't mean to let you go. He didn't want to leave the crew. But if he had to be practical like you always were… then he was a small sacrifice to ensure that his beloved crew remained safe. 13 years had passed between the last time he saw Germa but the smallest of fears still lived inside him. Sanji knew what they were capable of.
And there was also the possibility that you would not love him any longer. Sanji had thought that fate was a cruel thing, to make him fall in love with you of all people. You were from an island that was caught in a war. The war had been going on your entire childhood and it finally ended when the other side bought Germa's help.
The destruction left a handful of survivors, including you. It was truly a cruel twist for you to have fallen for him of all people, unknowing that Sanji carried the same detestable blood. He couldn't bring himself to tell you the truth about himself. Now, there was no way you didn't know. You must have heard from the others when you made it to Zou.
If you hated him, he wouldn't blame you. Sanji understood.
That didn't mean he liked it. He didn't want to lose you. He wanted to keep you by his side for the rest of his life. The only one he wanted to marry was you. Maybe this was how it was meant to end all along. Maybe because he hadn't told you about his family, now they had come back to haunt him.
"What are you thinking about?" Reiju's question made Sanji look up from his plate. From the corner of his eyes, he could see his brothers staring at him too. Sanji couldn't bring himself to actually care now that he was finally in front of them.
"What to say if I ever meet the person I really want to see again," Sanji replied calmly. There were no words he could apologise with. Nothing to begin making up for all the heartbreak he must have caused you and the rest of the crew. He had gone along with Germa and Big Mom's demands to ensure your safety.
So why did he want you to break in and take him away already?
"Oh?" Niji grinned at him from across the table, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. "What, did you have a lover on that dirty pirate crew?"
Sanji didn't answer. You were not his, but even so… he didn't want someone like Niji to even utter your name. He didn't deserve to even know about you. You were Sanji's person. You were the one he had accidentally given away his heart to. You were the one who always forgave him. You were the one who made him want to be stronger, better, kinder. You made Sanji feel complete.
"I asked you something, Sanji," Niji narrowed his eyes. Sanji internally flinched, already knowing what's going to happen afterwards. But he couldn't speak. You were his secret. You were the one thing he could never, ever share with his family.
"No," he lied through his teeth and finished the meal. Sanji stood up and walked away, ignoring the dull ache in his heart. He had walked away from the crew by his own feet. He was the one who made this decision. He was doing it so you would be safe. But even though that was all true, so was the fact that…
He really, really missed you.
°•❀•°
all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡
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@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004
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outtoshatter · 10 months
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Inspired by @christinesficrecs, I'm going to do a few author spotlights! No one can stop me. I am going to shower love upon my pals and boost other writers in this fandom.
Up first we have @halevetica! She has so many options for readers!
Multi-Chapter Fics:
Leave Me in Ruins | 66K+ | 48 chapters tags: friends with benefits, slow burn, miscommunication
Summary: Derek finds himself in a difficult spot when he mistakenly sleeps with Stiles. The two agree to forget it but Derek can't. Before long, its becoming a regular thing, now Derek has to deal with the issue of falling even more for Stiles or losing him all together.
Stiles never dreamed of waking up next to Derek, but it's now a regular thing. However, he has to keep his emotions in check so Derek doesn't realize how he truly feels all while keeping their 'relationship' a secret from the pack and fighting the new big bad in town.
Like it or Not | 80k+ | 56 chapters tags: fake dating, enemies to lovers, mutual pining!
Summary: Stiles works as the editorial assistant at Vogue. He loves everything about his job except for his boss, Derek Hale. Derek Hale is the worst and Stiles hates him. But when Derek drags him to the yearly awards dinner within the company, he is forced to play boyfriend for the night to make Derek's ex jealous. Things couldn't get much worse…or so Stiles thought.
Same Old Song and Dance | Rated: E | 125k | 91 chapters tags: Alpha Derek, hunter Stiles, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers
Summary: Raised in the hunter life after his father was killed, Stiles hates werewolves. So when he lands a contract to kill the alpha of the pack that killed his father, he's elated. Until he runs into complications. The alpha is smart and strong and playing a game Stiles can't figure out. When secrets are revealed and new enemies made, Stiles must decide for himself what side he's on and who he can trust.
One shots:
Cute Together | 4k Summary: When Stiles gets stuck on a ski lift he meets Derek, who is scared of heights. He helps keep Derek calm until they can get rescued which leads to Derek teaching Stiles to ice skate. Along the way he helps Derek's two friends get together.
Promise | 3k Summary: Derek is stuck in the airport after his flight gets cancelled on Christmas eve when he meets Stiles Stilinski. Stiles is a friendly stranger that convinces Derek to have a little fun while stuck in the airport. His night with Stiles has more of an effect that Derek thought it would.
Feels Like Home | 4k Summary: Derek has spent years trying to quell the storm in his chest. The one that makes him feel lonely, like he doesn't belong. When searching for that feeling of home in New York where, he lived with Laura, he runs into Stiles Stilinski, who insists on Derek staying with him while in town. Derek shouldn't be shocked to find that Stiles feels like home.
Things to look forward to (aka works in progress!)
Shatter my Reality | 32k so far | 23 chapters to feast on! tags: mutual pining, jealous Stiles, ~magic~ Stiles, Stilinski twins! Summary: Months after the nogitsune, Stiles starts to see his own face around town. He dismisses it as PTSD. That is, until Lydia starts having a feeling that Stiles is going to die. As the pack scramble to find out what is going on, Stiles is forced to face a ghost from a past he didn't know he had and a future that seems to threaten his place in the pack.
Tangled Crowns | 23k so far~ | 14 terrific chapters to enjoy! tags: royal au, prince Stiles, prince Derek, magic Stiles! Summary: Flattery. Derek's life is full of it. Fake smiles, fake compliments, fake people. It's exhausting.
Desperate for a night away from the high expectations and rigid life of royalty, Derek escapes to a small tavern where he meets a sweet, attractive, genuine man who only gives him the name "Mischief". He has Derek swooning by the end of the night, and Derek doesn't swoon. Their night together, the first and only real connection Derek has had in years, if not his whole life, ends too soon, and he must return to his responsibilities.
Stiles isn't ready to give up on the mysterious, handsome "Samuel" that he met in the tavern, convinced they have a connection. He finds himself risking family secrets and even the peace of his own kingdom just to keep that connection even when it seems impossible. As circumstances force them together despite betrayal and aching hearts on both sides, Derek must fight both his heart and Stiles while Stiles struggles to prove to Derek that everything between them is real.
Go check out Halevetica's AO3 page and enjoy! Don't forget to mind the tags, leave a kudos, maybe even drop a comment!
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pinkomcranger · 7 months
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my thoughts on Saga Anderson and the lack of spotlight on her in fanworks
Hmmm…this has been bothering me since I waded into the fandom after AW2 dropped. WHY DOES 99.9% OF THE FANDOM SLEEP ON SAGA WHILE IT'S HALF HER GAME???
I DON'T understand the fixation on Casey (even though I adore him and he's the other half of my OTP), or Zane to the point that when Saga is in ensemble art, she's relegated to being the "bro". And for what purpose? She has just as much build up and storyline as Alan himself. She certainly has more screen time than FBI Casey. I see posts going "oh, I love Saga so much, she was so badass" and then almost nothing when it comes to fan work.
Do y'all understand, how, as a black woman, this frustrates me to NO end? I go to her tag on AO3, see new fics, get excited...just to see she's the bro or footnote to CaseyWake. I've literally been brought to TEARS over this. Saga was written with SO much love and care, and it's so obvious. She was not the stereotypical sassy, angry, loud black woman that we tend to get when we're even thought of at all.
And it's genuinely PAINFUL to see all of the love, all of that care, ALL OF THAT RESPECT, IGNORED by fandom because you want to focus on the white men. Because why? I get it, het is so icky for most of you, fine. But to not even give her fanart/fics just on her and her daughter? It's terribly egregious.
Saga Anderson is genuinely a role model. She's smart, warm, funny, dedicated, sympathetic and passionate. She will change REALITY just to save the ones she loves. She's NEVER had to deal with anything like the Bright Falls situation and she came through it with such GRACE. She saved the fucking day. She did what Alan couldn't do in THIRTEEN YEARS. And she gets no recognizance in fanworks?
And I know the majority of this fandom happens to be made up of women, at least for fanworks. You truly mean to tell me you can't, at all, even a little bit, relate to this woman? You can't make her the focus, instead of a background character? The white men are easier to understand and draw/write for?
I can't tell anyone who to like, or who to ship, nor would I ever try to, because on the internet, it seems like het is icky despite how amazing the woman is. But I've seen comments towards andercase fanart going "Saga, no, you're married!" But shipping CaseyWake in the same breath, despite Alan being married and getting back to his wife being the main motivation for Alan to do anything at all.
It comes off as hypocritical, it comes off a wee bit "I don't know what to do with this black woman...hmm, let's just make her root for CaseyWake" I'm left feeling that Sam and the team love Saga more than the fans ever do or will. And that fucking sucks. Because to put so much thought into a character and love the character, just to be ignored?
That hurts, really really badly. I genuinely enjoyed feeling like I was represented. I loved having a character I could relate to, one I could understand. But it feels like I'm in the minority. When she tells Alan he's not alone in this, this is THEIR story...well, that was the truth for me, and I wish others felt the same way.
I genuinely adore the works Saga has gotten that focus on her, and I see so much love and care put into them. It just somehow feels like fandom made this game into CaseyWake 24/7 and it's icky.
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owliellder · 1 year
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The Finer Details
Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)
Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..
Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔
Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare
Author Note: I wanna say there's some pretty descriptive talk about depression in this chapter, just as a heads up. Anyways, it's my weekend and I'm going to be absolutely zooted every single day so the next chapter will most likely be out Monday morning PST lol.
Cross-posted on AO3
Session 3: Blocking In Color
It was nearly three weeks until you saw Leon again.
You tried to call him a couple days after he'd left that day, a few more times over the following week, but to no avail. The man was unreachable.
Even though you did your best to convince yourself that you just wanted to get his painting started, "It was an important one", you knew that you were really just worried about him.
You've seen this kind of dismay with the other retired agents that've had a portrait painted in the past, but they at least recognized what they'd been through.
Leon hasn't. You could just tell.
Looking over the sketches you made of his face, you couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd been thinking about the last time he was here. He seemed so bothered, acting like he was hiding it so well, too.
Then again, you did drop a rather large bombshell on the guy while he was in a pretty vulnerable state, but you thought he knew what the portrait he was going to receive was suppose to mean. Again, most of the retired agents you'd seen were similar to Leon in that regard and even they at least had a basic grasp on the finality of it all. So why didn't he?
You nursed your bottom lip, still staring at the sketches laying in front of you while you sat at one of your desks in the corner. You normally don't come to your workspace unless you're actively painting, yet you'd shown up everyday in hopes Leon would randomly pop in. He seemed like the kind of guy to just kind of show up, anyways...
If you had just gotten a picture that day you've could've at least started working out the positioning for his portrait. Unfortunately, he wasn't in any position mentally to put up with anymore of your shenanigans at the time, it seemed.
You really did try your best to get ahold of Leon, eventually giving up a few days ago. You'd already emailed the President, who had been the one to personally commission you unlike with previous ex-agents, letting him know that it's going to be longer than expected. Thankfully he was understanding, knowing rather well how much the whole retirement thing was weighing on Leon.
You'll come back tomorrow and try again. Even the next day, and the day after that if you have to, and so on and so forth.
Guilty. That's all Leon felt right now.
He's been shelled up in his house since the moment he got home after leaving your building, withering away by the minute.
He hadn't showered, barely eaten, only ever really pulling himself from what little comfort his room offered to grab whatever bottle he touched first in the cabinet. Leon didn't care, just as long as it was something.
Chris had been over a couple times after he stopped responding to his messages, doing his best to get him out of the house. Claire had been over a few times more than her brother had, bringing groceries once she'd heard about the sad state Leon was keeping himself in.
It broke both their hearts, but they could only do so much for him. Leon was stubborn, head strong, he wasn't the kind to sway to many forces. He had somehow gaslit himself into thinking he was doing well. "Just peachy", even.
Clearly that wasn't the case, both Chris and Claire could see that. They'd have to be blind not to.
Having been in contact with Leon's government-assigned therapist, Chris tried to set up an at-home meeting for him one day. That turned out to be a disaster seeing as Leon was bordering on blackout drunk and could barely keep his eyes open. Not to mention the vomiting.
Claire even tried to bathe Leon. She only got far enough to wash his hair in his kitchen sink, using his vomit-covered mouth as an excuse to keep him over the sink long enough to shampoo his greasy, stringy hair.
All of it was weighing on him too much. He felt so guilty for making his friends feel like they had to babysit him, ignoring everyone's calls and messages, your calls and messages. That kind of thought process quickly spiraled into him reliving the worst days of his life, having to through suffer so many flashbacks and nightmares, not sleeping because of it. He rarely ever felt safe enough to get under the covers on his bed.
None of this is what he wanted. If it were up to him, he'd start all over; be twenty-one again, work as a cop, maybe get promoted a few times, find a girlfriend, start a family, have a normal life. Why couldn't he have that?
Staying awake night after night, Leon would stare at the ceiling in his bedroom and fantasize about the wonderful life he could've had, the happy memories he could've made. It would make him weep, longing for something that never could've been.
Instead, Leon was stuck with endless images of horror, death, and gore every time he blinked, and oh was he bitter about it all. So bitter, so angry, so...
Feeling sorry for himself was all he could do now. Sure, he killed all those monsters and zombies, saved all those people, not once did he think about himself through the years. Now he had all the time in the world to question and wonder, and having to think about himself and what he wanted most made him feel like a needy, greedy bastard.
But wasn't he allowed to be greedy, if only just a little? He had wants, needs, and though he wanted so desperately to change his past, he knew he couldn't. So, what did he want now? That, he didn't know.
Guilty for feeling this way, guilty for wanting different, guilty for wanting anything good for himself.
It took the better part of those two weeks for Leon to finally muster up some form of energy to stumble into his bathroom and shower one afternoon, dizzy and nauseous. The light emanating from the rest of his house was blinding, not having even bothered to close the shades he had on any of his windows. His room was kept a cave and that's where he stayed.
Leon now found himself sitting down in the shower just like before he'd decided to retire, only this time it was mostly to keep from slipping and dying. The last thing he needed anyone to see was him naked and dead in the shower. Embarrassing.
His thoughts at the moment were shallow, still pretty drunk from his bender, head lulling back and forth a bit as his vision spun. He was finally hungry again, the heat from the shower making that all the more obvious as he grew lightheaded, but he didn't know what he wanted.
After managing to actually crawl his way out of the shower, he dug through the pile of dirty laundry at the end of his bed, finding a pair of boxers that didn't smell too terrible to put on.
Leon used the wall heavily for support to walk out into his kitchen, muttering curses under his breath at just how bright it was. Opening his freezer, he stared at the meal prep containers left by Claire, grabbing one to attempt and read what she'd wrote on the sticky note attached to the lid.
That's right... She made him little meals, even putting them in the freezer so they didn't go bad as fast. All he had to do was put it in the microwave.
Simple enough, he could do that.
The one he chose was meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Just the sound of it had his stomach rumbling and his mind craving the comforting taste of a home cooked meal.
The first few bites in made Leon feel nauseous again, but once those bites hit his stomach the feeling immediately gave way to just how hungry he actually was.
He tried to pace himself, he really did try, yet he managed to devour the food in front of him in a matter of minutes, only pausing every few seconds to breathe. It felt so good, something warm in his stomach. Filling in all the right ways. Once he finished, he pushed the empty container away and just laid his head down sideways on the cool countertop, closing his eyes as he let the food settle.
As much as he wanted to degrade himself for acting this way, reducing himself to such a weird and pathetic state, Leon didn't have the mind to. All he knew right now was that the warmth that the meal Claire made him. Not to sound cliche, but he genuinely believed he could taste the love cooked into it.
For the first time in what was now two and a half weeks, Leon was awake and alert when Chris and Claire came over again. He'd eaten everything Claire made, holding all the now cleaned containers out to her. It was a silent plea for more, and lucky for Leon, she had just made another grocery trip for him.
Unbeknownst to him, Claire had been cooking here at his house. This entire time he thought she'd been bringing the meals over, assumed to be leftovers from cooking for her family. She did confess to hoping the smell of the food cooking would pull him from his room. It didn't, much to her dismay, but now she was just glad he was up and eating again.
As soon as Leon tried to apologize for dragging her away from her family, she was quick to shut him down with that mom stare she'd developed after having her kids. It worked, especially on him.
Chris was busy chatting up Leon while Claire cooked him another set of meals for the next week. It was hard to converse, but Leon did manage to nod and him as the other man talked about some random encounter he had the other day while out driving.
It was strange to feel so lively again. Those thoughts still clung to the back of his mind, though all he could focus on were his friends taking care of him like one of their own. Leon feels like he's been a terrible friend lately, seems as though the siblings standing in his kitchen didn't feel the same. He wasn't showing it, but Leon was definitely holding back a smile.
A couple hours had past, Chris opting to stay with Leon and eat lunch since Claire had to head back and help her husband with something.
The hug Claire gave Leon was phenomenal. After the hug he shared with you he's been craving that physical contact more than ever, so finally getting another good squeeze from a friend was boosting his mood.
Chris and him sat, ate, and talked about whatever came to mind, eventually asking about you.
"How's the painting coming along? Do you like the painter?" He smiled, looking at Leon with wide, curious eyes. That man always had a smile gracing his features.
Leon shrugged, taking a sip from the water he poured himself not too long ago. He was pretty dehydrated after solely drinking alcohol for the past couple weeks. "She's alright. Haven't started the painting yet."
Chris raised an eyebrow, placing his arms on the counter and crossed them as he leaned forward slightly. "Just 'alright'?" he emphasized the word "alright" with air quotes, which caused Leon to scoff.
"What else do you want me to say? I've seen her twice so far and its been fine." Leon lifted his hands up in confusion, palms facing the ceiling as he watched the man sitting next to him rolled his eyes dramatically. "C'mon, she was amazing for Claire and I- Okay, how about this..."
Chris repositioned himself so his entire upper body was facing him now, leaning in a little closer to ask another question. "Do you like the room she works in? Cause I thought it was pretty comfy. When she was focusing on Claire's part of the portrait, I took a nap over on that rug she had. All those pillows mixed with the classical music knocked me the fuck out."
He laughed, shaking his head at memory before looking over at Leon again. "So...? And don't lie to me, I saw that pillow on your couch."
Leon sucked on his teeth and hummed, glancing over his shoulder at his couch. "It's cozy, yeah." He brought his head back forward, patting his hands gently against the counter.
The two chatted for awhile longer before Chris eventually had to leave, giving Leon a firm pat on the shoulder while shaking him a bit. After he left, Leon was left to sit alone and think again, only difference now is he felt better. He was crazy tired, his social battery quickly drained from having his friends around, but he felt good nonetheless.
He wasn't ready at the time, yet after a sober night with solid sleep, Leon woke up the next morning and decided to just text you, hoping you weren't mad at him. Calling would've been too much at that moment, not even have listened to the voicemails you left, or anyone's, for that matter.
His chest felt tight after sending the text, but it was quickly eased about ten minutes later when you responded with nothing but enthusiasm. The smiley face you added at the end of your message made him smile, quickly wiping it away with his hand.
Your next session was arranged two days ahead of time in the late afternoon. Leon wanted to give himself enough time to recollect since he needed to look his best the following weeks. You told him it was time to start with the main painting, which you still needed a picture for.
During that time he finally shaved his stubble, went out and got his hair trimmed, tackled all the laundry he'd neglected, and got his best suit dry cleaned. All thoughts aside, he felt good and wanted to stay this way.
Needless to say, Leon was jittery when he pulled up to your workplace again. He was finally letting himself feel excited again about this painting. If it's anything close to what Chris and Claire's portrait is, then that excitement will only continue to grow the further along you get.
You were already there waiting for him at the door, a gentle smile on your face. That wonderful soft perfume that he missed reaching his nose once more as you lead him up the stairs and through the other door. Chris was right, if he had the opportunity, he'd take a nap on your rug. It looked mighty comfy.
Leon was thankful you didn't ask any questions on his whereabouts, he wasn't ready to talk. You were just as excited as he was about getting the painting started, if not more. Watching you eagerly move back and forth between the larger easel and your desks was a refreshing sight to the man.
You stood at your easel for a couple minutes, just silently looking from the blank canvas to where he was sat. You told him to get into a comfortable position, prompting him rest his right leg on his left knee, leaning back and to the side so he was sitting at a slight angle, arms resting on the chair's armrests.
You stared at him for a few seconds, tilting your head side to side with your eyes squinted. "Let me just-" you spoke in a hushed voice, walking over to Leon before cautiously reaching out to rest one hand on the underside on his chin while the other hovered over the side of his face.
You weren't an idiot, you knew what his absence was from. So you made sure to be careful with him, knowing he was probably still pretty fragile. Only gentle and cautious touches for Mr. Kennedy.
So close yet so far. His skin tingled in your hands wake, and god he hoped you couldn't notice his blush.
You could, but you wouldn't say anything. Besides, you weren't faring well yourself, hands a little shaky as you touched his face.
Leon just let you move his head to whatever position you wanted, his eyes now half-lidded as you had walked back a couple times to get just the right angle. You pulled away for a final time with a small "aha!" and he wished you would hold his head for just a little longer.
The floor where your easel sat was marked with an 'X' made with painter's tape, making it easy for you to stay in the right spot for the photo once you pushed the easel out of the way.
"Don't move." You held your hands up after analyzing his position, quickly hurrying over the corner opposite of your desks to grab a bulky camera that sat atop a tall tripod. You worked as fast as you could, knowing as long as you had a picture with him in this position then this whole process would go so much smoother.
You didn't even have to ask Leon to smile or look up at the camera since he was sitting there with a rather dopey smile, his eyes remaining trained right on yours. Nice and natural. He looked relaxed which is exactly what you wanted.
Just as a precaution, you took multiple pictures, giving him a thumbs up once you figured you'd gotten enough. His head back to rest on the chair at the okay, listening to the sound of you walk over to your laptop after untwisting the camera from the tripod. You printed out 3 copies of the photograph and taped one to a stand you had brought over to sit next to the easel, making sure it sat eye level to you.
The ball was finally rolling, now having what you needed to start with the main sketch. When Leon lifted his head up, he noticed that you were ready, sucking in a sharp breath through his nose while he shifted a little to get back in just the right position.
You twirled your pencil between your fingers before beginning to roughly sketch out the chair, eyebrows furrowing as you focused. Leon could see your expression, how intensely you zoned into your work. It was incredibly admirable and he found himself fully content in just watching you do your thing.
It didn't take long before you had sketched out his general shapes, now walking over to take the sketches you made of his face out of your sketchbook to clip up right next to the reference photo. The more finer details would be added later, but you wanted to get just the basic shapes of his face.
That didn't take long either, because before Leon knew it, you were telling him it was okay to talk. He was pretty animated with his hands when he talked, so you kept him quiet until now.
"Am I easy to draw?" Leon spoke with an almost sultry tone after a few seconds of you telling him he could speak. It threw you off only a bit, carding your fingers through your hair as you took one step back to look at what you had so far.
"I wanna say yes and no." You responded, catching his questioning look from the corner of your eye. "You're easy to sketch out, yes, but your hair is giving me trouble." You could hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest as you stepped back forward. "Hey, you asked." You laughed back.
"I know, I know." He shook his head with a poorly hidden grin, tilting his head down to try and hide it a little better. You immediately pointed your pencil at him, not taking your eyes off the canvas. "I said you could talk, not move." Your sarcastic tone made him chuckle again, slowly lifting his head back up with a sigh.
"Yes, ma'am." You could just hear the smirk in his words, causing you to let out a sigh of your own.
By the time the sun had started to set, you had blocked out all the simple colors for the painting. Right now, it just looked like a very bland and abstract painting. It'll come together, slowly but surely. Trust the process, as people say.
Leon was in awe already, having stood up to look at your progress as you washed your hands over in the small bathroom. Oil paints smeared something fierce and as much as you loved your job, you did not want feel oily at home.
"It already looks stunning." You heard the man say from where he stood in front of the easel. It wasn't quite registering in his brain that it was him on that canvas just yet, but hopefully soon it would.
He wanted to recognize himself in something as wonderful as your art.
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necrotic-nephilim · 26 days
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what are your favourite batcest ships and why?
AAA i love this question so much. i'm going to limit myself to a top five, because otherwise, i'd just end up listing all of them. the true joy of batcest is they're all so good for such different reasons and there are so many unique dynamics you can explore.
JayTim - it's funny bc, before i started this blog, i don't know if i would've put these two losers as my number one. but because i've done so much deep diving into their dynamic and i write them the most, i think it'd be a disservice for them to be anything *but* number one. their canon dynamic is just. so fun to play with. i truly love all of their interactions, particularly pre-Flashpoint. the concepts of Tim holding such contempt for Jason while Jason is weirdly obsessed with Tim. i'm a fan of Hannibal and Killing Eve and well. if this isn't a Hannigram-coded ship idk *what* is. i like ships where love and hate co-exist and there's no real "happily ever after", just fucked up co-existing, where they crawl back to each other like a bad habit and really, this ship is that so perfectly. the themes of jealousy in the Robin mantle. Tim wearing Jason's Red Robin suit to punish himself. i will likely never shut up about them. even in the New-52, there's such a substance to them, though the dynamic is wildly different. they will always be so weirdly dependent on each other's existence. i love them.
BruDick - you can't outdo the doer, i fear. i think i like BruDick mostly for the history of it, yk. there's genuinely *so much* queer history seeped into the homoeroticism of Batman and Robin, these two have been a symbol for queer people for decades. but the ship itself has so many dynamics i love. problematic age gap, "are we family or lovers", "i can't be in a room alone with you without getting into a screaming match but if you called i drop everything for you". all of it. i especially favor 80s/90s BruDick when they were in their divorce era just because it's so messy. Dick has canonically said he would die for Bruce, even during their arguments. no matter what, these two will always be single-mindedly devoted to each other. there will be other Robins, but none of them will compare to Dick Grayson, for Bruce. it's a unique and complicated bond that has endless layers to peel back. they always crawl back to each other bc no one else will match their level of intensity.
DamiTim - years and years ago, when i was a teen trying to people-please with how i existed in fandom, i used to insist i didn't like batcest and found it icky and gross. but there was one DamiTim fic that was my exception. that fic was my fucking roman empire. i reread it like once a year even though it's not completed and likely never will be i do not care. so now that i've killed the morality police in my head and i let myself ship what i actually want to ship, this ship holds a top place in my heart just bc of that fic alone. but in general i do fucking love their dynamic. similar to JayTim there's just so much mutual hatred in these two that has endless potential. Damian's insistence to not see Tim as a Wayne and as a legitimate brother/heir to Bruce is something you can play a lot if you give Damian an angry, fucked up crush on Tim he doesn't want to admit to. they have so many reasons to dislike each other, so to try to get them to slowly fall in love is a fun challenge. they either have a long complicated forgiveness arc and end up a happy married couple or they are the couple that tries to kill each other once a week. no in-between.
JeanTim - there's like. one person here on tumblr who goes as hard for this ship as i do and truly god bless them bc they feed me. Jean-Paul is too underrated in the batcest scene. once i reread Knightfall, i will have to help popular this tag on ao3. i enjoy both a very fucked up version of this ship during the peak of the Knightfall arc, where Jean-Paul is deep in his murder Batman era and Tim is trying to stop him to no real avail, but i *also* think there's so much you can do with the ship afterwards, where Jean-Paul is trying to make up for what he's done and be a better person and better hero. they're the peak Batman/Robin ship, to me. they truly care about each other, but have a very complicated/bloody history and i just. man i love it so dearly. i've been meaning to write a fic where Jean-Paul goes to Tim post the Sword of Azrael (2022) arc to properly discuss and apologize for all his actions in Knightfall for his personal healing and they end up fucking. it could be sweet and cute or kinky fun bc what is the joy of a character with that much Catholic guilt if you don't give them a weird religious kink.
BruCarrie - The Dark Knight Returns got me into comics and i will defend it till the day i die. Carrie Kelley can be pried from my cold dead hands. i just really love these two? Carrie took one look at that cranky old bastard and decided she was his problem. and Bruce is at a stage where he should be very averse to the idea of having a Robin, he knows it's a bad idea. but he just. accepts her anyway. idk how to explain their dynamic other than she plunks herself in his lap and stitches up his wounds while telling him he's an idiot and he lets her even if he's grumbling about it. they have the biggest age gap of any Batman/Robin ship and for that, they should get like. a dead dove gold star no matter how rare the pair is.
also honorable mention goes to BruTim, because *god* do i love the concept of Tim offering himself up to Bruce as Robin in every way, knowing that there are likely sexual/romantic implications to being Robin. it's one of my favorite flavors of batcest to exist. i don't view them as a "happily ever after" ship, because Bruce will always go back home to Dick, but it's a fun lil dead dove moment.
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faeriekit · 2 years
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I haven't spent a day without reading after I discovered ffn in high school.*
I genuinely don't have any perspective a life looks like without reading. I used to smuggle library books into middle school math classes, and get all four of them confiscated, one at a time. In the second grade, I smuggled books out onto the playground so I could read longer. In between those years, I spent time taking out books from the 80s and 90s in my school library-- but once I could get free literature on my itouch forever, as long as I had WiFi? Game changing. GAME. CHANGING.
People like to knock on fanfiction and, fine, sure, there's bad stuff out there just like everywhere else, but there's been no greater treasure in my life than clicking open a tab wherever I am-- bus, dr.s office, work, in bed-- and knowing there is a story there for me, if I just adjust my ao3 settings. Fanfiction is a lesson and a story and a celebration of stories all at once. I learned how to write from the fanfics I loved. I learned how to refine my sense of grammar (for better and for worse). I learned what worked and what didn't in a story. I learned what people like, and why they love it. I learned what different shapes and sizes of love look like in different eyes. I learned how many people can well and truly love a story, entirely independent from the media conglomerates that designed it to be marketable. Thousands of strangers freely, happily, embracing a story. Telling each other stories.
And the TAGGING system on ao3 changed my life. Ffn? Awful to navigate. Even worse to search on. The crossover options were limited and the categories were slim. Ao3 is a love letter to fans, and from fans to the media they love. I'm getting sentimental. It's 2am. But I wouldn't trade a thousand hours in my school library for the gift of reading at my fingertips, everywhere I go, for the rest of my life. And it's all because a stranger on the internet wanted to tell me a story.
Anyway. Blister Pack hit 30,000 hits. I write this story for me. But when it means something to all the readers popping comments in my inbox, all I can do is be grateful that it touches something in you, too. I don't know how long it'll mean anything to anyone, but the joy of archiving fics means that there's infinite time in the world for us to find the story we need today. It'll still be there in the morning.
*(I don't think my ventures with livejournal counted. I was only on there sporadically.)
Edit: drafted 11/28/2022
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