#also this is a bit old but i realized that i should post this anyway considering the general lack of fanart
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Lots of super interesting thoughts!!! I'll probably keep rotating them in my head for some time.BTW sorry for replying to you like in an old-school email, but it's the most convenient here.
There seems to be some in-world mythological confusion about what "the end of the world" even means, similarly how "the Void" can be either the interstellar void or the void outside of Existence
Oh, yes. The void is also confusing. And think this is not wholly unrelated. Limits of time; limits of space. [Reminds me of how @eloquentsisyphianturmoil said that the Door of Night is related to the Halls of Mandos, those two discussions have the same vibe for me — oh wait, they are related!
Because if end of Ea = Morgoth jumps in = it destroys the Halls somehow (I still don't quite like it but not for factual reasons)… OK, are the Halls of Mandos Arda-specific? This feels like a moot question, because only on Arda there are Men and Elves— or are we certain about it?
There's a whole bag of worms here.
We know that Elves are bound to Arda for as long as it lasts, but the Ainur are instead bound to Ëa.
Yes, but it's a scale issue. There is still the question of what do they do when Ea ends. But yes, you are right that this may be read as separate question from the Second Music.
Also, Athrabeth is late writings, adjacent to the round-Arda-from-the-start and generally, more scientific vibe, so I guess here we're talking a bit more like "the sun dies out" end of Arda... maybe.
Also also, I need to check what are the Valar bound to, I think it may have been "various Ainur for various planets, bound to them".
OK, my Silm says "World", so… I'm not sure. BoLT is even more vague. Also I only now realized that the part where I've drawn a smiley face on my Silm and on my BoLT are probably evolutions of the same point in text. :) <3 [yes I do underline and comment on some books. In pencil! Or eraseable ballpoint pen. I did it with non-eraseable pen when I was a kid, and staying in the thematic area of this post, iirc my copy of CSL's "the last battle" had a certain sentence or couple of them underlined back in the time when I thought they were cool and not "you should have taken some lessons from John and learn what to omit"… I'm not even sure what is my opinion now tbh. anyway back to the post.]
The First Music created the whole universe, but apparently the Second Music is not played after the end of that universe, only the end of Arda
This may be a version incompatibility issue, and I think it is, because myy intuition for what Tolkien wanted says "Second Music after/at the end of Ea".
Though just like with some other ideas, I could probably make it work, as long as we throw away the "Arda is our mythic prehistory" I think I could roll with this… But not n any particularly canon way… Hmm. Needs more thought. You people keep saying very interesting things recently! <3 (Even more interesting than usual)
Which makes me think that the Second Music is not a separate thing (as in, another work of art), but an extension of the First.
I've always assumed it's more like a reprise than an unrelated work.
neither is it limited to the Timeless Halls (which would exclude not only the Elves
I think this is based on an assumption that the Silmarillion does not confirm or deny.
I generally treat the term "Music" as quite abstract, the closes thing to what actually happened that the Incarnates could comprehend. I imagine the Second Music for people living in Time to be just that - living. The whole life makes the Music.
Oh, I love the last sentence!
Not necessarily the whole construct of Arda ends → Second Music → Ea ends much later. On the other hand, I have no idea on what version Tolkien settled or would settle, and I can see where this would be coming from, also, funnily—
OK, a short summary of a large interpretational idea, which can probably be detalized in many various ways— Arda as our mythical past, but as in "our actual world [is/is made of/whatever] the Second Music".
Or, you know, like in an album (I'm not thinking about Les Mis, you're thinking about Les Mis) where you have song1, song2,… many songs and then a reprise that is like a medley of all those and, like, closes all of them.
I didn't have enough sleep, so excuse me if that's too chaotic to read. Also I'm bad at thinking about Silm canon without making a lot of assumptions. I hope other people, who are better at it, will add their thoughts about what you wrote too.
Hmm sometime later I should look at all the replies I got on this (I love them) and write a summary of our thoughts. This would be nice to have.
Let's discuss:
What do you think: what happens to the Valar after Arda breaks (or whatever it does, anyway it ends somehow)?
(Or should I say "what will happen"? But for fictional end-of-the-world present tense feels more natural to me. I'm not sure why.)
Both in the terms of "what Tolkien intended at various points of his career" and of "what makes the most sense with the Legendarium". With whatever version.
Let's ignore Morgoth (and Sauron etc), assume they've been dealt with in some way that works (if you prefer this including "Sauron is good now", ok, why not) and that no other Ainur got depressed because of it.
Whatever happened, we're discussing just the good guys now. Because it is a mess anyway so let's try to narrow it down for now. It's still a very difficult question, I think.
So, the Second Music. Where is it sung and is it material? (well as much as music is material anyway, but I think you know what I mean)
On one hand, the Music of the Ainur was clearly not material (because matter did not exist), and its being a music feels somewhat like an approximation. And took place (it's not a place but whatever) in the Timeless Halls.
On the other hand, Men are said to sing in the Second Music (and maybe the Elves too, unclear), so… will it be material? Or does this mean "the spirits of Men"? Will it be more of a literal music than the first one, or not? Where will it be sung?
(If we simply copy and paste a solution from outside the Legendarium, it still leaves a lot of questions, depending on how much do we copy)
(Also, Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth is not an answer. It is a question (and no, I don't mean a "the answer is yes" question (though this too), but an open question. It's a discussion of two characters, not anyt sort of explanations, and it leaves more questions than it answers. but if you want to elaborate starting from this text, you're welcome.)
But yes, even with those disclaimers, "the Second Music immaterial; spirits; it reboots Arda into Arda Healed" seems like the most fitting solution. Especially if we ignore the whole "and then Feanor reboots the Trees" thing which… for me the important part of that is "Fefe gets over his issues", and that we can keep.
And generally, what do the Valar do afterwards?
On one hand, in Ainulindale chapter (or was it in Valaquenta? nvm) it seems like their being on Arda is temporary. On the other, with Arda Healed… It's still Arda, in a way.
So do the Valar still govern it (I need to remind myself that Manwë having a burnout is not canon), or… what? Do they live there, or in the Timeless Halls, or are they free to move between those (and somehow the Elves and Men don't get jealous about it).
And if the answer is "the Timeless Halls effectively get moved to Arda" – ok, this solves some questions, but why? why. All the other Ainur were not interested in material existence. Why would this be a thing? It seems quite out-of-the-blue and random.
I'd love to see your thoughts (plural "you", though I'm sure some will have more intense thoughts than others :) )
#silmarillion#Tolkien meta#athrabeth finrod ah andreth#the silm#the silmarillion#silm#Tolkien legendarium
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LEFT/RIGHT GAME SPOILERS. (Fanart of a scene where someone dies.)
#undescribed#art#the left right game spoilers#the left right game#left right game#i dont have the energy to write an image id sorry#also this is a bit old but i realized that i should post this anyway considering the general lack of fanart#ANYWAYS THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT FITS THIS MAN REALLY WELL#poisoned sugar11's art#FORGOT MY ART TAG FOR A MOMENT WHOOPS
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okay, so, I've collected a bunch of DP fandom stuff that I remember off the top of my head, specifically in chronological order & colour coded here in this post (fics/comics, tumblr posts, important imo) for no reason other than I saw a post asking for Phandom history & it triggered my biggest, most long-running hyperfixation & now I'm curious if anyone else remembers stuff.
this link is going to be the permanent version I will be updating, but I'm posting what I currently have (gonna go through my old laptop later for more) just to let people know. you can also find the link on my blog, but only on desktop. It isn't colour coded there, sorry.
please share more if you got anything else cuz I'm 100% sure I'm missing a lot of stuff & am too interested now. the biggest reason a lot of stuff isn't here is that I simply can't find it. second biggest reason is i forgor. things not included here aren't "unimportant," this is just the first stuff that comes to mind.
putting it under a cut 'cause it got kinda long
Mars by JadeRabbyt (2005)
Checkmate by pearl84 (2006)
Conversations of a Ghost Gabber by Cordria (2006)
The Foley Maneuver by bluemoonalto (2007)
One Thousand Years by Nylah (2008)
Lab Rat by AnneriaWings (2009)
Lost by Cordria (2010?) [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]
Phantom of Truth by Haiju (2011)
Ghost Deaths (2012)
Through Coals and Rain by Kakawot (2012)
Shadow of a Doubt by Haiju (2013)
Pink Pants (2013?)
Wes (2014) [original] [1] [2] [3] [4]
this "I'm Inevitable" gif (2014)
Space AU (2014)
Treading Water by The Full Catastrophe (2014)
Danny, you dead IDIOT!! comic (2014)
wash away the darkest days by anthrop (2014)
Reverse Trio (2014)
Inverse Trio (2014-2016) ALT
Halfas are "feral children" (2015)
Burn the Streets, Burn the Cars by anthrop (2015)
It's Not Gay if He's Dead by phantomrose96 (2015)
You Smell Like Death by starfleetrambo (2015)
Ghost Bird AU by @rest-in-peachs (2016?)
Things I Can(not) Do In Amity Park by RedHeadsRock1010 (2016)
KEtTLE by Cordria (2016)
Deeper, Darker by Silvermoonphantom (2016)
Danny Phantom Punches Butch Hartman In The Face by MistressVintage (2017)
Dannypocalypse (2017)
Ghost Train (2017?)
Ghost Physics by jayrockin (2017)
Ghost Infographics (2018)
The Taxonomy of Ghost Cores: An Observational Study (2018) Communicating with Ghosts Professionally: A Study (2018)
Species in Danny Phantom (2018?)
Diddles Piddles by diddly-darn-ghost (2018)
Broken Ectoplasm by ghostanimal (2019)
Ghost of Heroes by Enigmaris & ScarletNightFury (2019-2020)
do not stand at my grave and cry (i am not there, i did not die) by blueh (2020)
Undercover Phantom by artistfingers (2021)
Corruption is a Two Way Street by datawyrms (2021)
Things That Bleed by artistfingers, kkachis, & Perfectly_Inconspicuous (2022)
10,000 works on AO3 (2022)
Ghost Speak:
Danny's handwriting (2015?)
Cordria (2015)
Fiver-Rivers [1] [2] [3] (2019)
Rubber Chicken Sounds (2019)
#Danny Phantom#Phandom History Archive#do you even understand how hard it was to find the original Wes post????????#i spent like 2 hours on that alone#Wes Weston why are you so hard to find#just realizing that a lot of shit happened in 2014#like. 2014/2015 ish#i joined somewhere between 2014 & 2016 so i guess i literally came here right at the peak of phandom activity#the height of tumblr's paranormal activity. you might say#i think i'm just biased though#should i put my own fics on here. Phantom is pretty important to me being my first DP fic#& also the thing that got me back into writing#it's not very good but by god if i dont love it. & anyways i put Bird AU on here lol i think i can put Phantom up at some point. as a treat#also if any links are broken tell me cuz i'm not checking them again. it's 4am#reminder: gotta find those Bird AU fics i read & put em here. there ARE actual Bird AU fics. i know there are. i did not hallucinate that#it just might be the hardest thing on earth to do since that was years ago & i have no idea what they were called#anyway gonna add a fuckton of fics & (hopefully) tumblr posts when i go through my old laptop. i got everything bookmarked on there#like. so many fics. i had them organized too based on what kind of fic it was. but they all have stupid names cuz i was like 15#me: i should do my stencil art today. just to be a bit productive & also maybe make money#my brain: what if you organized Danny Phantom fandom posts into a big archive for people to look at? for free. until 4am.#me: you know what that sounds so much better let's do that
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very freeing to actually own up (to myself) abt post-ph being an au. now i can make a little list of the little ways it deviates from leading to st
#i do not want to play st but i know vaguely enough to know where post ph deviates#rn its just tetra deciding not to find a new hyrule and linebeck being gay and unwilling and unable to have biological kids#with tetra ive been thinking kf her having a bit of a thing on realizing that she is technically what remains of hyrule#and it is ultimately up to her whether or not to let the kingdom remain a memory or to bring it back#and she eventually decides not to. try and erect a new kingdom in a world where people really dont even want that#like theres the whole thing abt the great sea being a dead zone or w/e and then theres fish in st. what is it#my hc for that is that the water around old hyrule is a dead zone but the further out the get the better things get#like the old kingdom is some blight under the seas and its not until its finally properly laid to rest does that dead zone fully disappear#look i know the gods fucking flooded hyrule but i honestly think its a biiiit much if they just gave the survivors a dead fucking ocean#that would likely lead to them just dying out with the only way out being to make the kingdom again#yknow the kingdom they fucking flooded. i feel like hyrule being re-established is fucking stupid and i think#mass-settling everyone on some landmass is a lot less interesting than everyone living one different islands and adjusting to this sea base#life. yknow? like i feel like theres a lot that can be done with islands with different geographies and cultures and populations#and also i think hyrule should stay gone i like the idea of the ww side of things being the one where the cycle ends#and so the world is free is from the cycle perpetuated by the kingdom’s existence and demise’s curse#i always think of demises curse as just being. as long as ur kingdom exists and whatnot there will be no peace#rather than a literal reincarnation cycle. its just. hyrule sucks and theres also a heros spirit thing#like theres a postal service and people are traveling and they have cultures and shit like. its not a hell situation#ppl are moving on and theres no kingdom to lord over all of them so they all have their own ways of life in their corners of the world#idk i think its interesting to think abt how the great sea world works and the different peoples and islands and how they go abt life#its more interesting to me than anyways yeah they are not free from the endless cycles of history and just make hyrule again#post-ph#salty talks#wanted to talk and didnt know what to talk abt so have a tag post#with a rlly tiny side of yeah post ph linebeck is sterile he got that shit removed bc he didnt want that there anyways#bottom surgery (or whatever its called its a hysterectomy) exists in the great sea. isnt there brain surgery mentioned#they got hrt in the great sea either its magic or its. idk potions. maybe the great sea era has decent medicine that seems to be the idea#tbh its not clear what happened to lead to st anyways i can just keep track of clear discrepancies#ill be honest im still iffy on the details with intersex linebeck and that. is an issue#i go with rn that he has ambiguous/female leaning genitals and had a malformed uterus and ovotestes that got removed
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What? I�� what?
Okay, so technically I think I probably already knew this, but this reminded me of something that happened when I was in 1st grade.
So when I was in 1st grade I went to a Montessori school (if you don’t know what that is, don’t worry it’s not important to the story), and had this teacher that I Strongly Disliked for several reasons.
Now, as a reminder, 1st graders are typically 6 or 7. I have fall birthday, so I had a weird situation where I was actually about 5 or 6, depending on the time of year. I actually got held back and repeated 1st grade for several reasons, one of them being the age thing, another being that my older brother was also being held back and my parents didn’t think it was a good idea for us to be in the same grade (also, something I learned later, but apparently my parents didn’t think I was socially mature enough, and thought this would help for some reason). Anywhomst, my story takes place my first round of doing 1st grade, as I had a different teacher for my second round of 1st grade, so I was about 5 or 6.
Now, this happened several times, but I would often get reprimanded for “rolling my eyes.” Now, I’m smol and have always been smol (I’m currently 5’2” on a good day and have long since passed the period of my life where I had any hope of getting any taller. All my siblings will one day be taller than me, and I’m the 2nd oldest of 6 kids), so in order to look at a teacher, who was much taller than me, and was also not crouching down to reach my eye-level (likely due to age— as a 5/6 yr old I thought this teacher was about grandma-age, even if she wasn’t grandma-tempered), I would obviously have to look up. Now, I’m not great with eye contact as is, so this isn’t actually what usually got perceived as “rolling my eyes” but you’d think she’d at least try and factor in the height issue when reprimanding me. As it stands, I am someone who tends to look up when trying to solve or think over something in my head. This is what often got perceived as rolling my eyes. And this confused me greatly, because I didn’t even roll them! I just looked up! And, of course, since I wasn’t rolling my eyes, I thought it important to try and explain that I hadn’t, because I didn’t want any Authority Figure to think I was disrespecting them. Often, before I could even finish explaining, I would then get reprimanded for “talking back”. This, as you can probably imagine, was very frustrating. No matter what I did or said I would get in trouble (I don’t think I ever got any actual disciplinary action taken against me, but being reprimanded is still getting in trouble). And I still tend to look up when I’m thinking something over in my head, but I’ve since learned that if someone wants to interpret a facial expression in a specific way, even if you had no intention of conveying whatever they think they’re reading off of your face, it’s easier to just go along with it. Nothing you do or say is going to convince them that they read you wrong, or they’ll just get embarrassed for reading your expression wrong and then everything is awkward for everyone and you’ll wish you hadn’t said something anyways. The only time I can ever get away with explaining that someone read my expression wrong is when I get to explain to people that I have a “resting sad face.”
At least now I know why people think I’m rolling my eyes even though I’m just thinking.
#what#since when#I’m not diagnosed with autism#or anything other than anxiety and depression#but I’m going to tag it anyways because it’s relevant to the original post#autism#autistic#anywhomst#this teacher also didn’t like that I was a nervous laugher#she thought I was just laughing during Serious Conversations because I wasn’t taking them seriously#she would do the whole ‘do you think this is funny?!’ thing and everything#also once she yelled at me for saying ‘it’s okay’ in response to an apology to forced another kid to give me#idk if she actually yelled but 5/6 yr old me certainly perceived it that way#technically I know why you shouldn’t say ‘it’s okay’ in response to an apology but I was 5/6 and she definitely could have handled it better#also maybe she should have wondered a bit about why the quiet kid was apparently randomly disrespectful#maybe then she’d realize that my laughing was my response to nervousness#and that I wasn’t rolling my eyes or talking back#I had undiagnosed anxiety#I didn’t want anyone to think I was being disrespectful to them#also the ‘don’t talk back’ thing is such bs#like#that’s an abuse of authority#just because you have power over someone doesn’t mean that you’re right all the time#maybe if you let people explain themselves every once in a while you’d be able to understand what’s happening#all you’re teaching them is that no matter what they do they’re wrong#and that they have no voice#well#that’s all#thanks for letting me rant#idk if anyone will ever read this
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Their Habits —♡ LADS Scenarios
—♡Summary: Everyone has habits, but not everyone enjoys having you point them out... —♡Tags: gender-neutral, pure fluff —♡A/N: Silly thing I whipped up after being told I bounce my leg too much lolll —♡ masterlist
—♡ Zayne
Zayne squints so much without his glasses. He insists he only needs them when his eyes get tired—but clearly—that wasn’t the case. “Zayne, look!��� You eagerly pointed out a flyer posted on the door of his favorite boba spot. They were hosting an event next weekend, it read, and encouraged customers not to miss out on the opportunity. You watched his hazel eyes sharpen into a squint.
“Event…?” He still had trouble reading it, though, and absently tugged your clasped hands forward as he leaned in for a better look. After a few seconds, his eyebrows relaxed, and he hummed appreciatively, “They’re introducing new flavors. Perhaps we should…what?”
You failed to conceal an amused smile. “You need your glasses, old man.” The nickname was not received well, by any means.
“The text is small.” He answered coolly, “The average person would also have difficulty reading it.” Then he slipped his hand around your waist, eyes narrowing, “And I’m not old.”
You couldn’t help yourself, you laughed, “Have you considered contacts?” The look he gave you was deeply unamused, “No, no, you’re right. You look cuter in glasses, anyway.” Zayne's ears tinted pink under your playful stare.
“...Let’s go inside before they close.” You pinched his flustered cheeks.
“Are you sure? The menu is so tiny. What if you can’t read it and order the wrong thing?” Your mouth promptly shut after his grip on you tightened in a warning. Zayne remembered to bring his glasses on your next outing (and the one after that).
—♡ Sylus
Sylus hums nonsense when it’s too quiet. It’s like he constantly needs to fill silences with some kind of noise. Even his humming is off-key…
“What song is that?”
Sylus barely spared you a glance, “What song?” His fingers worked a microfiber cloth into the metal of his pistol.
“The one you were just humming.”
He huffed, “Didn’t realize I was humming, sweetie.” Then he removed the cloth to admire his handiwork, “Don’t you recognize it?”
You almost felt bad for saying this but, “...No?” Sylus finally glanced up from his work to shoot you a look. A concerning one.
“Really? You had it on repeat all day, yesterday.” Horror dawned on you at the realization, “The chorus has been stuck in my head since morning…” And then a laugh sputtered from your lips.
“Oh my god, that sounded nothing like it.” Sylus glared and returned his focus to his pistol with what you could only describe as a pout.
“What a picky kitten.” You bit your lip to stop the smile threatening to break loose. He was a god awful singer, but the room felt emptier without his noise. Gently, you padded over to where he sat, and invited yourself onto his lap. Despite his mood, a hand wrapped around your waist without hesitation.
“Sing it again.” Sylus’ hold on you tightened, “I think I like your version better.” A soft chuckle left him, and quietly, he hummed once more.
—♡ Rafayel
Rafayel taps. All. The. Time. Taps his legs, hands, pens, pencils, anything and everything within reach. And he’ll deny the hell out of it when you ask him to stop. “I wasn’t doing anything,” The candies on his phone screen lit up and exploded with color as he scored another combo. Too engrossed in his phone to realize the arm slung around your shoulders was still tapping you. You leaned into him with a huff.
“You’re doing it now.”
Rafayel gave you a sidelong glance, frowning, “I dunno what you’re talking about, cutie.” You suddenly captured his hand to still it, and Rafayel gave you the most scandalized look, “If you wanna hold it that badly, I’m not stopping you.”
“You’re not even aware you’re doing it,” You blinked incredulously, “Are you?”
Rafayel threw his head back and groaned dramatically, “Doing whaaat?” Then he lifted his head to press his forehead against yours and huffed, “Is this your way of telling me to get off my phone?”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “You look like a fish up close like this.” Rafayel pulled away to roll his eyes and clicked his phone off.
“Alright, fine, you have my attention.” Then he began tapping his foot, “You know, that’s a little offensive to say to a Lemurian. You could get cancelled for that.”
Your hand drifted to his bouncing knee, and you watched as both your hand and his leg now jumped up and down. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?!”
—♡ Xavier
Xavier is always chewing on something, and it is almost always never gum. It’ll be something random, like a straw from a drink he’d long since finished. The strings of his hoodie, a toothpick. Once, it was a plastic tie. He reminded you of a teething puppy; he’d probably chew on wires if you left him alone long enough. Today, though, his chew toy of choice looked a lot like…
“Xavier, is that my pen?”
He blinked, eyes floating from his comic book to your frown, “Yours…?” His jaw froze mid-chew.
“Yeah,” You scooted closer on the couch, “the one from my desk at work.”
A blush crept along his cheekbones, but he didn’t drop the pen like you expected him to, “...Are you sure?”
Your eyes fell to the pen trapped in the corner of his mouth, “The one with little stars on it? Yeah, that’s mine. I thought I lost it at work, why do you have it?”
The comic book shifted in his hands, “I found it, that’s why.” This explanation would be more convincing if he hadn’t shifted his gaze sideways. His blunt fingernails picked nervously at the corner of his book, curling the edges.
“Xavier,”
“Okay, I borrowed it.” You bit back a chuckle, and he guiltily removed the pen from his mouth. It shined with his spit, and the cap bore teeth marks, “You can have it back.”
You couldn’t hide your grimace fast enough, “...Actually, you can keep it.” Xavier merely blinked before bringing the tip back to his mouth. Then a smile curved the corner of his lips.
“My pen now, hm?”
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#zayne x reader#sylus x reader#xavier x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x you#zayne x you#xavier x you#rafayel x you#lads rafayel#lads sylus#lads zayne#lads xavier#lnds rafayel#lnds sylus#lnds xavier#lnds zayne#love and deepspace rafayel#love and deepspace xavier#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace zayne#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#xavier lads#sylus lads#zayne lads
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so a thing that my brain does on the reg is it makes me get nervous about a scenario (ranging from probably-won't-happen to Definitely-Won't-Happen) and then i have to spend like 40 minutes meandering my way through an improv youtube apology video until my brain feels like I've addressed the scenario about as well as i can and lets me move on. usually this comes in the form of like
you accidentally said a forbidden slur (i.e. one i can't reclaim) while streaming/in a group conversation and now have to explain that your brain misfired catastrophically hard and that you've never said this word before (true) And You Have To Do It Well Enough To Be Believed
because like. i wouldn't believe that guy either, y'know? most people in that situation just cross that bridge when they get to it and do pretty bad, so maybe my brain is trying to help prepare me via interrogation. my point is that i spend a lotta my spare time pacing in my bathroom fending off theoretical murder charges (which are either phony OR true OR a secret third thing depending on the day).
as soon as i woke up this morning my brain gave me a new one:
what if people accuse you of faking your (middling) knowledge of french? and also you're a celebrity and have to prove it by speaking french live on a talk show or something.
which like. good morning to you too, brain. the first thing i did was (slowly, mediocrely) construct an appropriately indignant sentence in my head (i haven't used french since my ap exam like a month ago) and then
BUT WHAT IF PEOPLE THINK SOMEONE FED ME THE LINE
ok we'll have the audience write in questions live
WHAT IF THEY STILL THINK IT'S RIGGED AND ALSO WHAT IF I DON'T KNOW WHAT THEY'RE ASKING ((<- LIKELY AND UNCHARACTERISTICALLY ROOTED IN LIVED EXPERIENCE!!!)) WHICH WOULD PROBABLY MAKE IT WORSE
girl that's The Most i can do what do you want from me.
and then once i woke up more i had a realization in that blasted out, quiet way—like an astronaut drifting away from their ship untethered, forever. that
the prognosis of taking american public high school language courses is to remember jack shit (pardon my french). it's a classic babe it's near universal. we all know we don't know.
Babygirl, (And I Cannot Express This Enough,) No One Is Ever Going To Make You Speak French Live In ~5-40 Years To Prove You Took It In High School. Go Back To Sleep. there's only like two scenarios you can think of ever where that happens and there's like a 70+% chance you can just say no or ignore it. what a weird thing to fake in the first place too who would even accuse you of that.
anyway sometimes being a citizen of Braintown is funny and not exhausting in a kind of sad clown way but it's usually just kind of awful. something something c'est la vie
#held captive to the world's saddest strangest most confused lump of meat sitting in juice getting zapped with electricity ever#i cant tell if it's hard mode scripting or if i just fully have compulsions about this in ways im only realizing now#sorry if the formatting is a bit much this used to be a big wall of text and i thought yhis would make it more digestible#anyway i have Tendencies and Thoughts i should get Evaluated For because what the shit IS that#the sentence was smth like 'je deteste le tache donnez-moi hier soir' which like. shoulda been ce soir dumbass god get it together#(<- actually just glad i haven't forgotten it. also idk if the donnez-moi is right. every time i use hyphenated verb-pronoun stuff im#flying by the seat of my pants. also i think the 'je deteste' was different but idr how so there's what i prolly woulda done instead)#FUCK IT'S LA TACHE??? GOD THEY'RE NEVER GONNA BELIEVE ME#making a new tag for these:#skrunk story hour#in case you want more of my stunning 2 notes talespinning#me: oh if i have ocd it's pure. also me: (see above)#idk idk. fully not sure tbh. but the fact that they tend to align with the intrusive thought subject matter (moral concerns) doesn't seem#coincidental to me.#but then again the fear of doing wrong vs the fear of being accused/misconstrued (often justifiably) are separate (albeit fused for me)#anyway tell me you had to go lawyer mode with your parents to justify feeling/wanting anything without telling me that. yes im blaming them#it all comes back baby. you can't buy fear of confrontation this bad in stores you have to grow it yourself#oh also im not going back and tagging old story times unless i happen to see ppl interacting them and remember bc i usually didnt tag them#and it would be a nightmare to dig through like 8 months of blog for it. sorry 🫶#i know im sorry. no one likes those posts better than me so i for sure know and am sorry#rare skrunk intrusive thoughts L where i can just look at it and go girl no. not only no but absolutely not. but only after i do the#homework it gives me about it. hell on earth#etc etc. moving on now
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TEAR YOU APART
SUMMARY: viktor x vampire reader // you stumble into the piltover academy, not realizing where you are because of the sunlight. you haven’t had blood in days, and felt overwhelmed due to everything you were lacking. once you pass out in the halls, an old friend, heimerdinger, recognizes you, and has two men behind him. one of them, viktor, offers his blood to you and saves your life.
ASK: listen listen listen… viktor x his human experiment/project/anomaly/test subject. that’s all.
AUTHORS NOTE: hii!! im so sorry i accidentally posted the ask with the intention of using that post as a draft. anyway, thank u guys for 400 followers! this has 2.0k words. also pls send asks!! i’m working on a jayce oneshot too
WARNINGS: not proofread, kinda mean jayce, viktor n heimerdinger pick on jayce a bit, reader sucks viktors blood
you barged into the academy’s front doors, stomping down the hallways. it was in the middle of the day, yet far too sunny for your liking, but you needed a place to take cover. your body was burning in pain, and whimpers snuck out of your mouth. tears began to spring in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away before they could drop down to your cheeks.
you walked up the stairs, trying to find a room suffocated in complete darkness. you panted, and you needed blood quickly. time was running out, and you felt your energy draining by the second. cold air enveloped your frame, so you wrapped your arms around your body. it was the coldest you’ve felt in your life, although you were burning minutes ago.
pain filled your legs, and you found it difficult to walk and even breathe. this wasn’t how vampires were supposed to act. you were supposed to be strong and intimidating, but here you were, holding your knees up to your chest and cradling yourself as if your mother was comforting you. suddenly, a door slammed open, and you heard three men talking about something you couldn’t comprehend. hopefully, they weren’t the bad people who would burn down the castles of vampires, like the ones in the stories dad would read.
heimerdinger gasped and in a chirpy voice, questioned, “miss y/n? is that you?” you only glanced up at the yordle, but didn’t have the strength to respond to your old friend. as your vision became blurry, you could only hear the creature command one of the men behind him, “jayce, pick up a bag of blood from the infirmary!” when the brunette hesitated, he furrowed his eyebrows and placed his hands on his hips, “what did i just say, boy? now!” he then pointed at the room labeled ‘infirmary’.
he held his hands over your shoulders, debating whether or not he should hug you. he felt immense love and care for you, and he was essentially your godfather. his eyes teared up, he had never seen you in a position like this before, it made the normally chirpy yordle feel emotional for you.
on the other hand, viktor felt awkward and nervous around you. he finally spoke up, “professor, do you know this woman?” he couldn’t help but stare at your eyes, devoid of emotion. he bit his lip and tapped his cane against the ground, impatiently waiting for his science partner to save your life.
footsteps stomped over to your side, and the dark haired boy asked, “is b positive okay, sir?” yet before your old friend could answer, your vision became dark, and you were met with frantic hands gently slapping your cheeks.
“no, no, no!” heimerdinger groaned, placing his hands on his head and shaking it with disappointment. the two men gave him a look of confusion, as a random girl appeared malnourished and on the edge of death. he continued, “oh gosh! that just made this situation worse!” he sat on his knees for a couple of seconds, placing his hands on his chin before his pet, porofessor, came over and sat next to him.
he then attempted to set his emotions aside, remembering it is his right to take care of you. he turned around and stood in front of you, with his hands on his hips. he stated, with furrowed eyebrows, “one of you needs to give blood to this young lady.”
before jayce could interject, as he held his hands out and opened his mouth, heimerdinger tutted and shook his finger. “we can’t give her blood from a bag, it needs to be from a living creature. i, unfortunately, was not thinking correctly when i told you to collect a bag from the infirmary. however, i expect one of you two gentlemen to give blood to her because yordle blood does not go well in vampires’ stomachs.”
the taller man rubbed the nose of his bridge and ran his large hand over his face, covering almost all of the skin. he sighed and took his hand off, “so you’re telling me that we have to give blood to a vampire?” he chuckled and splayed his hands out, as if he was shrugging, “with all do respect, professor, that’s absurd. i’m not giving blood to someone i just met. plus, she’s a vampire. they’re rabid animals—“
viktor interjected, reaching a hand out to jayce to stop him. he argued, “clearly, you haven’t studied vampires, jayce. there isn’t much information about them, but they are not rabid animals, especially this one here. they live in solitude, away from humans.” he glances to heimerdinger, who has a proud smile on his face, even in the darkest of times, “i will give the blood to her. it seems like you know her well enough to ask us to save her life.” he smirked.
the professor beamed and clapped, “i am proud of you, my boy!” he then turned to the stronger man and glared at him, “jayce, because you aren’t doing anything productive, carry her to the infirmary.” jayce didn’t protest this time, and even began to feel guilt, apparent due to his gaze at the ground, and puppy eyes sat on heimerdinger’s face. he then picked your body up, bridal style, and opened the door to the infirmary. he gently placed you on the soft bed, where your body seemed almost lifeless.
three chairs sat around the bed, where friends and family of the patient would bond together in their most vulnerable and sometimes last moments. the three sat down, and the professor struggled to climb on top of the tall chair. he sighed and placed his hands on the armrests, eyebrows furrowed and his expression unreadable.
it wasn’t until viktor spoke that he was knocked out of his trance. “professor, how am i supposed to give blood to… what was her name again?”
“her name is y/n. i watched the girl grow up in her castle with her mother and father. because i live for centuries, like them, they decided to make me her godfather. that was the best day in my life. never would i have expected her to see her like this…” he shakes his head, then widens his eyes, “oh, what am i saying? you didn’t ask for her life story!” he tried to be his chirpy and loving self again, but didn’t have the spark in his eyes.
he frowned and finally answered the brunette’s question, “i am not fully aware of how to wake her up. however, she should wake up to the smell of blood. then, you must let her take… a bite, preferably from your neck. maybe a couple of seconds will be good enough for the girl to have her health restored. it is a tedious process, my boy. you may begin to feel lightheaded, so you should have some water nearby. we will leave so it won’t be as awkward with us watching you.” he chuckled.
viktor bit his lip before nodding, and jayce took a glass from the cabinet above before filling it with water. he sat it on the table next to him, then held the door open for the professor. he then closed it, and you and viktor were all alone.
viktor attempted to grab a document but jolted his hand back once the pain settled in. he got a paper cut at the perfect time. your eyes opened quickly, and you smelled blood, causing you to rise and sit instead of lying down. you stared at the handsome boy in front of you, who happened to be holding his hand in pain.
viktor stared back at you with the same intensity, partially with fear and adrenaline. maybe the fact that you were pretty would make the pain easier to withstand. your eyes were wide, and viktor swore he saw a hint of red in them. your hands were perched on the bed, and you tilted your head at the frightened man.
through all his fear, he mumbled, “i understand you need… to feast for a moment,” he glanced down at the marble floor, “it’s okay.” he motioned over with his hand for you to take a bite.
within a second, you were out of the bed and sitting on his lap, with one hand on his neck. you rubbed his shoulder comfortingly before sinking your fangs in, eliciting a groan from him. his eyes widened and he began to pant, knowing he was currently losing blood by the second, but not a deathly amount.
he placed a cold hand on your hip and gently squeezed it, not noticing his own action. once you gained consciousness of your surroundings, you gave him a plush kiss on his neck, where you bit. some blood was smeared on the surrounding skin, so you grabbed a nearby tissue and cleaned it up. you smiled at the marks your teeth had left, but frowned once you saw the man wasn’t looking healthy.
you mumbled an, “‘m sorry,” and grabbed the glass of water for him to take. you then asked, “thank you for saving my life. how can i repay you? surely there’s something i can do.”
he slowly drank the water with shaky hands, accidentally letting some of it spill over his clothes. he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, placing the glass on the table. he whispered, “give me a second, please. i would like to… recollect myself.” so you nodded, then stood up and sat on the infirmary bed, giving him space.
he looked good, with disheveled hair and clothes, especially his tie. you’ve seen a lot of good-looking men in your long life, sometimes telling heimerdinger about them, but you never saw one as handsome as the one in front of you.
he apologized and rubbed his face, then stared back at your curious eyes. jayce was completely wrong, he couldn’t believe that vampires were dangerous as soon as he saw the innocent and loving look on your face.
he gave you a small smile, and stated, “i was thinking maybe i could ask you questions about your species. we do not have much knowledge about vampires, and the piltover community would love to know more. you don’t have to live around here, however, but i would appreciate you come by sometimes to teach me about your culture.”
he was genuinely interested, but it was even better that he wanted to know more about you, not just your people. he wanted to know about you as an individual being, and not everything had to be vampire-related. however, he wouldn’t admit this to heimerdinger. he was like an overprotective father, although he only saw the two of you interact once or twice.
so you and viktor began to talk about your culture for a couple of minutes before you were interrupted. the brunette remembered you didn’t need to sleep at night, so you preferred to talk early in the morning, when it was still dark. he learned you preferred to fly around at night, where people would never suspect you were a vampire, and no one could bother you.
you learned he was a renowned scientist, originally from the undercity, zaun. he felt like he didn’t always belong in the city of progress, as he was a cripple who believed he was looked down upon. you empathized with him, knowing vampires were never treated fairly in their years of living.
when it was almost time for your nightly fly, you quickly asked, “can you schedule the questions for three in the morning?”
that, of course, didn’t align with his schedule, but he agreed, “yes, that is perfect.” you nodded and smiled, and he shouted, “stay safe out there, miss y/n!” as you jumped out of the lab window, before transforming into a bat and roaming in the sky.
#yukioos#x reader#arcane#arcane x you#arcane x reader#viktor x you#viktor league of legends#viktor#viktor x reader
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My girlfriend requested this
Hazbin men trying the period simulator. Somewhat of a follow up to my period post so this is based on the reader having severe period pain due to PCOS/ENDO
Lucifer
The man is sweating before you even attach the simulator. He knows he fucked up. He only agreed to this because he loves you a lot.
He handles the first 3 levels ok. You tell him very few women experience that little pain and that usually 4-6 is the average.
Those levels make him tense. He's uncomfortable, but still pretty able to work and do normal things. 5 has him pausing to do deep breaths every now and then. (If this is the canon timeline where he birthed Charlie he compares it to bad kicks).
6-8 he's pretty much doubled over. If you tell him that's the level you experience, he will cry. Literally begs forgiveness since again, period and labor pain is technically his fault. He is so sorry. If he didn't have issues with his Dad before he does now because this is fucked up. God's fucked up for doing this.
He doesn't make it to 10, he's crying by level 9. This is labor levels of pain. He gets why all you do is sleep. Treats your period like a sacred ritual after that. Preps for weeks. He goes full Bible, sheltering you for the duration of it so you can have peace and quiet. Please never hook him up to this again.
If you wear it at anything from an 8-10 and tell him "It's close, but I've hurt worse" he's gonna sob and then try and fight his Old Man again. He'll settle for offering to have your bits removed for you.
Vox
Once again this man hates admitting he was wrong. And yeah he knows your periods are really bad, especially now he's witnessed it. But it's still a huge knowledge gap for him and he doesn’t really take the time to think about it.
He handles 1-5 well. He's mildly uncomfortable by 5, but thinks that if this is the average experience, then it's not such a big deal. Tell him the statistics on how many people with periods actually experience 6-8 because that's actually the majority, and he's just confused. How is the average pain level not the most common?
6-8 has him gritting his teeth and glitching, but he refuses to stop and keeps trying to work. Is starting to wonder how you went so long working with this level of pain without him noticing.
He makes it to 10, but by then, he's unable to move, clutching his abdomen and sparking and glitching. Tells you it feels like his entire insides are being squeezed. The fact that he can feel it in his groin. He's kind of afraid of period sex with you after that because of how much he felt it. And you said it's caused cramps from your ribs to your knees. He's like... genuinely scared of your period and pain tolerance.
He's going to snuggle the fuck out of you afterwards and apologize for not appreciating how much you still do for him when you're not feeling good. How he didn't see how hurt you were. He does a lot of research after that and not only does he spoil you by buying whatever you need for your periods and giving you time off, he looks into treatment options. Even if that means chopping the useless fucking things out. Sinners can't have kids anyway so who needs ovaries and a uterus?
He's more convinced you should just be rid of the damn things when you wear it and 8-10 is "Yeah, this is close, but it doesn't really cover how much of my body hurts".
Valentino
Is only doing this because he was dared to by Velvette. Or if this an au where he's trying to be a less toxic person. But really I think it's also to prove that you're all being dramatic. It's a perfectly normal body function and his employees are just trying to get out of work.
He gets all the way to 6 before he starts to realize he may have fucked up. Especially when it's explained that this is what most people experience.
By 10 he's gritting his teeth, chain smoking, clawing at things. He refuses to give in, but he can count on one hand the number of things in his entire life and death as a pimp and a whore that he's experienced that come close to this level of pain.
No one told him his dick was gonna hurt. Sitting hurts. Breathing hurts. He doesn't even try to eat. He won't ever admit to being wrong, but he does behave more leniently with his actors when they're on their periods.
If you put it on (and lets say he actually cares about you) and setting 8-10 is "Yeah, this an average day for my cramps. My bad days are like..5 or 6 levels worse" it's gonna rearrange his brain a little. He might be a little afraid of you and some of the other actors with periods because your pain tolerances are so high. It threatens his ability to control you and them. But on the other hand, that's kinda hot???
Alastor
Has never once doubted that people who experience periods undergo serious struggle and has nothing but respect for women (and trans people he just associates it with women more because of the time period and his mama) who work through it.
He is actually the one who heard about the simulator through Rosie and asks you to show him your experience. Just to better understand you. He knows you're the type to try and function through the pain (probably because society ingrained into you that your pain doesn't matter).
Initially, he wants to skip the lower levels and just have you set it to your pain level. You tell him that's a bad idea, and to be honest, you're not sure if this thing goes that high. He asks you to check and you set it to the highest setting and say, "It's pretty close. It's been worse, but this is a rough idea," he's a little frustrated but still tries it.
You agree to set it to 4 and tell him 4-6 is what most people report feeling. He acknowledges it, registers it as unpleasant, but otherwise is fully capable.
7-9 has his ears flat, his smile is more a snarl. This is uncomfortable. Not what he considers painful but certainly irritating. It makes sitting, stretching, and eating feel much more difficult.
10. There's static visble around him. His teeth grind. Actually painful. Not the worst pain he's experienced, but he hates it. He hates the way he feels it in his back and hips as he walks. He hates the way taking deep breaths (which for someone as dramatic as he is and with the transatlantic accent, breathing technique and posture is important) stings. He hates the way it causes his stomach to cramp and churn. He hates the ache in his thighs and groin that make sitting feel stiff and ackward. He can only picture how blood loss would make this worse. Tired, losing nutrients, the headaches, the increased moodiness. It's no wonder you sleep, so much, but he wonders how the Hell you sleep like this? He's snappy and short tempered because of the pain (and again he gets why you would be if you weren't sleeping so much).
How does this affect how he treats you?
Not much. He still expects you to know your body and your limits. He would never dare to presume otherwise. He still helps prepare whatever you need for your time of the month and still meal plans for you, though he perhaps finds ways to ensure you get all the iron and vitamins you need without cooking steak and other big, heavy meals, since he now understands how bad your stomach hurts.
The only really noticeable change is how much more protective of you he is. Your time of the month hits, and Alastor hates being more than a few moments from you. He growls, pins his ears, and his antlers grow when people get too close to you. He's more prone to letting you snuggle with him when you want, trying to comfort you.
Angel Dust
Another who volunteered. His girl besties insist he doesn't have to do this, he's got the pass. He still wants to do it though, for solidarity.
He also starts on 4 and handles it well. He handles all of the levels pretty well, even 10. By 7 it's obvious he's sore, maybe a bit more withdrawn, exhausted, trying not to move too much or eat too much. Just trying to find a comfortable way to exist. The sad problem is, Angel already has to do this after rough nights at Val's.
He's used to sitting being uncomfortable and aches in his groin and thighs, cramps in his stomach from muscles clenching constantly. 10 is the only level where he's visibly ill, hunched over, lower arms curled around his midsection protectively.
He and the girlies all curl up together and nap and chat and snack on easy to digest junk food and granola bars. He's the first one to say "I bet it's even worse for you gals, but I tried".
He gets it. He's one of the girls. Honestly, kind of becomes a favorite when the ladies have period problems. (If you're dating any of the others and Angel is openly your favorite after this it is gonna cause a lot of dramatic pouting, posturing, and tantrum throwing.)
Husk
I'm going full balls to the wall on Veteran Husk. This man has seen some shit and dealt with his fair share of pain. Like Angel he takes it the best, with very little outward reaction. He's used to stiffness and nausea. The pain in his crotch is a little off putting, but it could be worse.
He's more cautious how he moves, rests more, occasionally a cramp causes his ears to pin back or a small hiss. Overall he takes it like a champ.
Offers you endless amounts of supportive words for dealing with this as well as you do, for days on end. Also is deeply sorry you even have to put up with this shit. Offers all sorts of tips on how to do stretches that help with easing cramps and stiffness without pulling something. Tips of foods/protein drinks to keep on hand to make sure you're maximizing how much nutrition you get. Man's a whole ass survival guide.
He only offers advice if you ask, though. He's not mansplaining how to handle your own body. He genuinely wants to help you, and that's the best way he knows how.
When you're on your period and just want something soft and warm he doesn't even bitch about it, he just settles on top of you and purrs, offers a massage, maybe offers a sly grin and a "no man left behind" joke as he helps you through these dark times.
BONUS:
ADAM
Would only do this if you challenged him, he has to prove his masculinity. He is definitely nervous as fuck though because he's seen yours. You and Lute already forced him to sit through a whole PowerPoint on women's anatomy and shit. He remembers how shitty he was to Eve, even if hers were in comparison, not that bad, just scary and new.
You forcing him to learn about and acknowledge female health is making him scared of pussy. This isn't gonna help.
3 and 4 make him whiney. He's uncomfortable. His groin feels weird. This sucks. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T EVEN THE AVERAGE?!"
By 5-7 he's actually on his knees, curled over his stomach. He tells you getting stabbed hurt less. This is making him re-evaluate his entire view on women (again he knows about trans people, but because of personal history equates periods to women. Wouldn't hate if a trans person had a period, it would just take his brain a second to process). He whines that you and Lute shouldn't be more badass than him.
"I thought men were supposed to be tougher and stronger. This pain tolerance horseshit is a lie. You guys suck."
He insists on going to 10 because quitting is for losers. He may actually throw up at 10 though. Every time the stupid simulators sends out a pulse and his stomach clenches, he groans. He's in the featal position, there are tears. One hand clenches his stomach the other is cupped around his groin. He's apologizing so much and he doesn't even remember what he's apologizing for. At one point its just "I'm sorry...oh fuck this...sorry about...ugh just...just men?! I guess. Fucking shit ass. Men suck. Women are...fucking great. Aces. You do this shit every month? For like 5 days....what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck."
You feel a little bad, but Lute is definitely filming this. Afterwards, he tells you you're a badass and any person shit talking people for bitching about period pain (Not that a lot of Winners do, but ya know, obviously they let some questionable people into Heaven if Adam and Lute got by) he's gonna beat the shit out of them. Like "Do you even fucking know, bitch? They're literally so much fucking better than you. Absolute queens. You try doing literally anything when it feels like your dick is falling off and your insides are trying to claw outside your body!"
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel lucifer#vox x reader#hazbin hotel valentino#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel adam
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SINFUL SUMMER
it’s the first day of vacation and lucifer already can’t keep his eyes and hands off of you.
𓇼 lucifer x fem reader
𓇼 warnings: unprotected p in v sex, semi-public(?), creampie, reader wears a bikini, reader wears sunscreen for anti-aging purposes (pls wear your sunscreen!!!), sub reader, lil oral fixation if you squint real hard
𓇼 a/n: 1.6k words of my own fantasy. I was gonna post all the summer stuff together but i’m scared I won’t finish it all in time and was too excited for this one lol. also if it wasn’t clear, it’s one of those cabanas that’s covered on all sides and has curtains at the front, they’re in the jockey position lol, and it’s one of those lounge chairs where the back adjusts. (plz forgive me for not being that descriptive i was excited)
As the sun beams off his clothed back and his feet begin to burn from standing in the hot sand, Lucifer comes to a realization.
You are quite literally his worst nightmare.
Pretty in the face and so, so naive to any of his lustful advances. An innocent request for him to help you apply sunscreen to your back should be just that, innocent. It shouldn’t be so daunting or feel so inappropriate for a man as respected as he was. Scanning over your barely-clothed back as you rub the contents of the tube on your arms. His ruby eyes linger far too long on the dangerously thin fabric on your lower half. He wanted to tell you that your bikini left far too little to the imagination, but he shouldn’t have been imagining that anyway.
“You’re laying inside a covered cabana, you don’t need it.”
"Do you expect me to spend the whole day in here?" You turned to look at him, smiling as your hands began to run the spf over your collarbones. "Besides, the sun still reaches me. I don’t want my skin to be saggy and feel like leather when I’m older." Lucifer crosses his arms and mentally eye rolls: You’ve been hanging around Asmo too much.
"Fine. Finish up everything else and then tell me what you need." You smile once more in victory and continue to cover your front with the lotion. Lucifer stands in the doorway, arms still crossed, a seemingly calm expression resting on his face. His eyes stayed transfixed on your body for the majority of the time, glancing over his shoulder once to see his brothers doing their own thing in the sea and snapping right back over to you as you bent over slightly to reach your legs. Your bikini bottoms riding up even further than before and exposing more of your skin. His eyes widening a bit more when he noticed the outline of your cunt peeking through the fabric, causing the air to feel a bit hotter and his swim trunks to tighten a little more around the crotch.
"Okay, need you now." you said, beginning to lie down on the chair and handing him the tube of sunscreen in the process, his fingers accidentally brushing yours as he grabbed it and he swears you let them linger on purpose. He stood over to the side of you and began to gather the lotion in his hand before you stopped him.
“Don’t be awkward. Sit over my legs.”
Lucifer paused after hearing you voice your request like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He lightly sighed and reluctantly moved to straddle your legs, his half chub barely a few centimeters away from your plump ass. Lucifer contemplated whether you knew what you were doing or not. You had to feel it; there’s no way you didn’t feel it prodding against your thigh as he began to smooth the lotion down your back. holding back a groan when you arched into his touch.
“How exactly does sitting like this help?”
“You’ll reach better. Besides, wouldn’t want you to throw your back out, old man.” You lightly laughed at your own joke and Lucifer rolled his eyes, hands moving to the center of your back. “You’re good at this, should be a masseur.”
He wasn’t able to respond, having to bite the inside of his cheek as you arched even more into him. Your ass dangerously close to his hardening cock. He paused to grab more sunscreen and was about to continue before you stopped him again.
“You missed a spot near my shoulders.”
He slowly leaned forward, relishing in the feeling of his clothed cock finally making contact with your ass but trying to avoid it at the same time. Using his legs to lightly hold himself above you and starting to cover the spot that he missed when he heard a soft moan escape from your lips and your hips push into him even more.
There’s no way you didn’t know what you were doing. There was absolutely no way you didn’t feel his hardened length pressed into you. His hands slowly dragged down your back, stopping at your waist and giving an experimental small roll of his hips into yours, feeling a glorious sensation when you moaned a bit louder. He continued to roll his hips against you, biting back small grunts and groans when you started to meet his thrusts with the roll of your own hips. One of Lucifer’s hands slowly traveling from your waist to the edge of your bikini bottoms, pulling them to the side and shivering at the sight of the strings of your arousal sticking to them. He slowed his hips to get a good look at your soaking cunt and ran his index finger up and down your slit.
“Do you want this?” He asked, fingers running over your sopping entrance and examining the way they shined with your essence. You frantically nodded your head, not trusting yourself to speak without getting too loud. “I need to hear you say it.”
You bit your bottom lip, trying to steady yourself before whispering out a quick "yes." You felt him shuffle behind you and shortly after felt his tip prodding at your entrance. rubbing himself up and down your slit to gather your wetness before he slowly began to sink in. inch by inch with shallow thrusts.
“Ohh fuck.. that’s it. You feel too good.” Your toes curled and pussy gushed at his words. Allowing him to sink even further into you
He was big. Barely half way inside, and you already felt so full of him. grasping at whatever you could and beginning to roll your hips into him once more, eliciting a sharp hiss from the man.
“Need you to open up for me.” His breath was hot on your neck as he leaned over to whisper in your ear.
“Can’t. You’re too big.”
“None of that. You can be good for me.” One of his hands positioned your hips up even more, giving him access to your neglected clit. “She can be good for me too.”
You moan when he begins circling your clit. Feeling your arousal drip down and lubricate his working finger. His thrusts starting to speed up and his free hand tracing up your spine to pull the string holding your bikini top together, giving him full access to your back. Everything coupled together gave your cunt to final push to open up completely. Moaning even louder when he finally pushes all the way in. Your whines and moans crescendoing to the point that Lucifer has to clamp a hand down over your mouth and pray that one of his brother’s didn’t hear anything.
“Naughty thing,” he began, sticking one of his slender fingers into your mouth and grinning when you immediately start to suck, “this is what you wanted the entire time, didn’t you? Wanted to rile me up and fuck you where anybody could walk in and see?”
Beads of sweat begin to gather on both of your faces from the summer’s heat and the intensity of the current activity. Some rolling down Lucifer’s face and landing in small droplets on your back that he lovingly wiped away after removing his fingers from your mouth.
“Are you going to be good and quiet for me?” You didn’t answer. Not trusting yourself to speak and worried you’d let out another loud whine instead.
“That just won’t do,” his thrusts slowed and he pulled his hand back from your aching clit, “answer me.”
“Yes. Yes I’ll be good. I promise.” You said through gritted teeth. Even with his agonizingly slow thrusts, the steady drag of his cock on your walls practically made you shiver. Feeling him hit every ridge as he pulled out and pushed back in.
“Then cum for me. Want to feel you.”
Before you could even try to start fucking yourself on him, he picked up the pace again. Going even faster and harder than before and causing your body to bounce up and down on the lounge chair. The grip on your left side becoming ironclad and his hand once again sneaking to rub expert circles on your clit. His heavy balls knocking his fingers every time he plunged into your heat.
Your orgasm comes soon after with a strangled moan. Burying your face in your hands to try and muffle yourself but to no avail. Lucifer also begins to gradually lose himself as he works you through your pleasure. The clenching and spasming of your cunt around him causes the fingers on your clit to fumble in rhythm and move sloppily. His grunts and groans gradually getting louder and his thrusts speeding up just a tad more before you finally feel that familiar warmth as he spills inside of you. Panting and biting his bottom lip to quiet himself.
The air in the cabana was still thick with sex as the two of you recovered. Finally looking over and noticing that the chair had moved at least a foot away from its original position and your tube of sunscreen had been leaking out onto the sand the entire time. Lucifer carefully pulled out of you and admired how his cum dripped from your pussy. Using two of his fingers to push any that had trickled out back into your spent hole before fixing your bottoms and tying your bikini top back to it’s original position. Finally adjusting himself and getting off of you after making sure you were alright.
“Are you going to stay here?” He asked, his voice quickly returning to its stern nature as he crossed his arms over his chest once again.
“Think so.” You turned your head to look over at him and propped yourself up on your arms, watching as he began to leave to check on the others. “Thank you, by the way.” He stopped in the entryway, glancing over at you with a grin and half-lidded eyes.
“The pleasure’s all mine.”
#i’m sorry if this feels rushed I was excited#like get to fuckin already✍️🙄#obey me#obey me smut#lucifer om!#obm lucifer#lucifer obey me#lucifer smut#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer x reader smut#obswd#obey me shall we date#obswd smut#om smut#obey me x reader#obey me x reader smut#lucifer#obswd x reader#obswd x reader smut#lucifer x mc
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Tim falling in the time stream and YJ fishing him out happens post brucequest so Bart and Kon are alive which helps Cassie keep herself from being gaslit by well meaning members of the justice league who completely forget/ignore/disregard that Batman literally just came back from the "dead" and so Cassie can have Kon and Bart there to keep her from forming or joining another cult
Bruce's reaction depends on the writer and how they feel about Bruce though his family seeing him go into a depressive spiral at the loss of a kid in his custody and getting some partial insight into just how bad he may have been immediately post Jason and the stuff that Tim had to deal with would be interesting, and the family dynamics of dealing with Damian who no longer has the verbal punching bag and focus of jealousy that is Tim available
Ooh. Now I want to kill Tim off in a fic and watch the batfam implode as they deal with their grief and come to several realizations. I've got too many WIPs for that, though.
Anyways, YJ is out here gripping their sanity and determination to bring Tim home by their blood-stained finger nails. It's hysterical laughing, refusing to cry (because he's not dead), and chaotic adventures that aren't as fun without Tim.
When Tim gets back, all four of them (and the retired members) are in agreeance. Fuck the JL. Fuck the other heroes.
For the batfam, we'll say Bruce can't go out to find Tim for plot. The exact reason can be up to the dealer, but he either doesn't hear YJ's theories, or he can't go look for Tim.
This traps Bruce with the rest of the batfam.
Damian, a kid who still looks up to his dad, is suddenly forced into Tim's Robin's role.
He, at first, isn't too upset that Batman is being harsher. Surely, the man would know what's best. Perhaps he's just realizing that criminals should he punished harder (not personal beliefs, obv. Just speculation of Damian's mindset).
Then Bruce gets worse. And worse.
Suddenly, the twelve year old is frozen as he watches the brutality of which Batman is pummeling someone. He's watching as blood flings off of Bruce's gauntlets onto the alley floors and walls. He's hearing the victim pleading.
Damian's not scared. Of course he isn't. That's ridiculous....
He just kind of wishes his Batman, Dick, was there instead.
Damian also has lost his ability to insult Tim. While it's not uncommon to go months without seeing Drake, his family's reactions to Damian's usual comments have changed. Suddenly, everyone is yelling at him or getting angry for what he's saying. He knows Tim died (and gods does it burn that he'll never get to know the older man), but why is the family getting mad at him? They've always let the comments go in the past.
It's an unhealthy coping mechanism and mindset that Damian developed of continuously comparing himself to Drake and dragging the older man down. It's a bit late, but Damian realizes that he doesn't hate Tim. He might have even admired him. He was blinded by his need to feel wanted in a family that chose everyone but him (at least, that's how he thought it was).
It's cruel he only comprehended this after Tim's death.
Jason is still on the outskirts of the family. Yet, from his distance, he has a front row seat to watching Bruce rapidly descend into his grief. Maybe the man denies that's what Bruce was like when Jason died (because Bruce liked Tim more than Jason). Someone points out that any animosity Jason and Bruce have was post his revival (and honestly fuck them for that). They also point out that this Bruce, the spiraling wave of fury, is a much more supported and restrained Batman. Tim, as a thirteen year old, witnessed and pulled this man from his even worse grief.
Jason doesn't know how to process that.
Dick is older and closer. He has to grapple with the fact that he failed another little brother. Another one is dead.
He also has to watch his dad descend into grief all over again. He's closer than he was when Jason died, back when he was brimming with rage at Bruce and despair. He's getting a closer production of Bruce's unhealthy coping skills.
He has to explain to his siblings and himself that last time, when Jason died, Tim weathered this storm. Dick came around, but not nearly enough. He couldn't for his own mental health.
That doesn't assauge his guilt.
Cass :( Imma say she's out there helping YJ. She believes them. It doesn't change how much Tim's death hurts, but she holds onto hope.
Alfred has to watch his son mourn again. Alfred has to mourn his grandson and watch his son destroy himself again. Alfred has to watch the family implode upon itself.
He doesn't have hope that another kind soul like Tim's will be here this time around. He can only offer support as he hopes the family makes it through this time.
When Tim comes back, he's not angry that the JL didn't help or believe YJ. He's not even disappointed.
He's resigned.
He's not upset the Bats didn't do anything either.
Creating YJ wasn't originally about ensuring Tim had support he could count on. He's glad it turned into that, though. He wouldn't give any of them up for the world.
#yj98#tim drake#damian wayne#bruce wayne#jason todd#dick grayson#thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au#alfred pennyworth
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Assume it as a fact + Do not accept waiting + Focus your awareness to what you want 🎀
Dearest Gentle Readers 💎
Rian, yours truly is back with a new epiphany for the law of assumption! If you were ever wondering what the hell I'm doing on my break, I'm just living my life and relaxing. Manifesting left and right. Also a lot of reflecting and thinking deeply about loa and how I can help myself and others to make it easier.
In fact, this just happened today. I thought of these today and I'm so glad I brainstormed about the loa to understand it more and make it easier for myself. It is hella easy, it's only us complicating it because it is truly that simple. I was thinking and finding a way to manifest easier in a relaxing way and to make my mindset better.
Let me break it down to you in three pieces. The things written in the title of this post are basically all I'm doing to use the law of assumption and it has never made sense like this ever before. It made it even easier for me! Let's go!
Oh and yes! I am a huge fan of A Good Girl's Guide to Murder Books and have finished reading the first two books in just four days! Can you believe that? I was hooked! I couldn't put my phone down! Yes, I read the e-book version. I also adore Emma Myers so much! She was the Pip Fitz-Amobi I imagined while I was reading! She's perfect for the role! I watched the first four episodes of the show today and I love how they did almost if not literally the exact same as the book! Anyway, let's get that out of the way now.
This all started this morning when I was eating a snack. The snack was a snack in my country and it's kind of hard to break. It's a big piece, I can't just shove it in my mouth like that. I was trying my best to break it but it just couldn't break. You know what I did? I relaxed and I did this in a second. I assumed that I was very strong and could break this snack easily. All I did was assume it's a fact and believed it. I had this silent confidence as I assumed that. I thought of this once - "I'm so strong I can break this so easily" and that thought came out naturally after I assumed that I'm strong and guess what? I was able to break the snack very easily and effortlessly. I broke that hard piece in half in a freaking second after I assumed and thought that. I then realized that this was the way I used to manifest when I first started learning about the law and I should continue it this way. Starting from that, I started assuming that my desires are a fact, fully believing they're here even without proof and persisting has been a breeze ever since that moment. Every time I manifested in this very simple way, things just materialized way faster so I decided that I will do it this way again which is the best way for me.
This is the meaning of assume:
Assume good things and assume your desires into being. Assume that your desires are facts now. Simply assume something and shift your mindset to the person who is it or has it. All I did was assume that it's a fact that I'm strong. I embodied the version of me who was always strong and can break that hard snack in two in one second.
I literally was trying so hard before and yet nothing happened but as soon as I assumed and shifted my mindset to the me who's strong then I was able to break it so easily.
Now on to the next point.
Don't accept waiting when you're manifesting.
I learned this one from Indigo Detry's video:
youtube
Everything I learned is in here and as soon as I implemented this, I never wavered even once. I fully accepted that I have my desires immediately. Do not accept waiting. Do not make manifesting a process because that just makes it longer when it shouldn't be. Decide that it's instant for you. I'm not waiting for my manifestations anymore, they're here now and I'm focusing on them instead of the old story. Because of that, I now feel fulfilled and consider it done.
Now, the last part.
Focus your awareness on what you want.
This is a little bit more non-duality but I feel like it's also true for manifesting. This was taught to me by my friend @starnightlover and it only sinked in today as I brainstormed about how I can stop looking for my desire in the 3d or how to stop focusing on the old story. I'm doing a combo of all three. It goes hand in hand.
I always say this when I'm answering asks about the 3d. What you focus on grows so don't pay attention to what you don't want. Awareness and Attention are our superpowers. Whatever you are aware of and what you focus on is what will manifest. I was thinking about how to stop looking for my desires in the 3d or how to stop thinking of the old story and this fixed these problems for me.
What you focus on manifests so how do you focus on what you want? I thought as I was doing something in the bathroom. I wanted to manifest having Dove Cameron's lips. Her lips are so gorgeous so I started manifesting that today. So I came up with a way to focus on what I want instead.
1. I made myself a vision board of my desires. The photos I used are in 1st person POV and I just included pictures of me having my desires and I made it the background of my phone, that way I will always see it everyday and it reminds me that I have it and it's already done.
2. I stopped expecting or accepting waiting when I'm manifesting. I decided that starting now, there's no waiting or process when I manifest. I immediately get it.
3. I assumed that my desires are facts now. I stopped feeding myself the old story. I stopped feeding the old story with any attention to let it die off. There's no waiting so that means it's already done. I did not care about what the 3d was showing me. I shifted my awareness from me not having Dove Cameron's lips to me actually having it already and I started to only pay attention to my desires. I also stopped wanting and desiring and instead assumed that my desires are facts and instantly here now. I shifted my mindset to be in my ideal reality. I embodied the version of me who had whatever she wanted just by assuming my desires are facts now, rejecting the waiting process, not forcing anything, focusing my awareness to what I want and using my vision board as the proof of my desires being here.
I also implemented my recent post about the devil's snare scene from Harry Potter and I'm always just relaxed now. Because why would I worry about my desires when I have them now? I also stopped forcing myself to feel things which made it be like act as if for me. It wasn't it.
All I do now is just assume, assume my desires are now facts, reject any waiting or process, change my thoughts and shift my awareness and feed my attention to the new story instead. If ever the old story bothers me which is super rare, I just relax, take a deep breath and either see my desire in my head or look at my vision board. I'm also embodying Hermione and using a sub for her so I'm getting the intelligence boost for sure! I'm embodying how Hermione would learn and apply the law of assumption and I've been seeing some benefits from acting like her!
This has been making it really easy for me and I know this will help a lot of people! I'm assuming so!
Assume your desires are now facts, dismiss and don't feed the old story any attention, reject waiting or anything implying a process, simply change your thoughts, focus your awareness on what you want (make yourself aware of what you want), relax and know it is done. Stop wanting and start relaxing and having! You would relax if you have it now.
I'll try and make an example post for this!
#law of assumption#manifestation#manifesting#lawofassumption#loassumption#how to manifest#subliminals#harry potter#hermione granger#ron weasley#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#dove cameron#law of assumption success#Youtube
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Softer Now (18+)
Ahh! You guys seem to be really enjoying these. I realized I was just writing the same Tav so there's that
Warnings: Soft smut, definite voyeurism, a decent amount of blood drinking, Soft!Astarion, pre-Act III, post-Act II
“Aren’t you just a little jealous?” Karlach asked, joining Astarion near the stash of wine they found.
“Why would I be jealous of the walking encyclopedia?” He smirked, watching a certain elf interact with a certain wizard.
“Oh c’mon! He’s flirting with her and you two are a thing, right?”
“I find it rather charming, actually,” he took a swig of the awful wine in his hand.
The Tiefling looked from the vampire spawn to the pair looking over some old tome whose name no one else could pronounce. “Charming?”
“Let me tell you what I see,” he set the bottle down to face the barbarian. “To you and I, Gale is obviously flirting. In a very clumsy manner, but flirting all the same. Our fearless leader, however, has no idea. To her, he is as much of a friend as Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet, he keeps trying because he has no clue that she simply isn’t flirting back.”
“That doesn’t make you angry?”
“Of course not!” He laughed, “I can barely believe he managed to bed a goddess with how he flirts.”
“It does seem pretty out there, as far as stories go,” Karlach crossed her arms and continued to watch the pair.
“Anyways, I know there’s no competition.”
She smirked, “You do sound a teensy bit jealous.”
“My dear, I do not get jealous.” The more he thought about it, the more pause it gave him. Their resident wizard does try to hold her attention more often than he should. But Tav’s time was her own. He knew he had nothing to worry about. After everything they’ve been through, he couldn’t imagine her changing her mind at the last moment. Right?
Tav, on the other hand, was enjoying pouring over the old tome they had found. It gave some interesting insight into Illithids and their reasonings. Unfortunately, she was unable to read the language it was written in. She was thankful for Gale in that sense. Who knew he spoke Deep Speech? Granted it was written in Espruar but the script itself was odd. The wizard had helped her decipher a few pages about psionic energy and how they have mastered it. It truly was fascinating.
“This is nice,” Gale spoke from next to her. He was holding the dusty tome in his hands with the bard sitting near him, using her mage hand to scribble any notes she’s taken.
She looked up at him with wide eyes, “I suppose it is! I’m very happy we found this book.”
“It truly is remarkable,” he swallowed, “It’s also a nice excuse to spend more time together in the midst of all this madness.”
“Oh! I suppose it is nice to sit with everyone.” She didn’t fail to notice him scoot slightly closer. Just a hair between them now.
Gale closed the book and turned to look at the elf next to him. “I’m afraid I must ask you something.”
Something in Tav’s mind warned her to walk away. But she was still getting used to that voice, so she elected not to listen to it. This was Gale. This was her friend. “What’s on your mind?”
He grabbed her hands in his, “I have noticed you and Astarion getting rather close recently.”
Tav wasn’t sure how to react. She was already flustered by the sudden turn of the conversation. She was more than happy to keep speaking of the Illithid empire. “Where are you going with this, Gale?”
Gale’s eyes never left hers. It was like he was trying far too hard to bear into her soul and she simply…didn’t want him to. “I told myself it was casual, not a matter of the heart but…clearly I was wrong and it looks like I am the last to know. I know how close you two have gotten, I just thought you would show me the respect of telling me first.”
The Elf’s jaw dropped, “Tell you? Tell you what?”
“But you can tell me now. Who is it to be? Me or him?” The look in Gale’s eyes was nearly as serious as when he was told he’d have to become a bomb.
“What exactly am I choosing here?” Tav blinked, glancing down at the wizard’s hands that completely enveloped hers. It took her a moment before her brain caught up. “Oh! Oh, Gale! I had no idea you felt this strongly.”
A glimmer of a smile reached his face, “Well, perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach…but I was only myself. Sometimes that just isn’t enough.” His face dropped looking at hers, “Whatever your decision is, I will respect it. But you must choose. You cannot have us both.”
Tav made a choked sound in the back of her throat before clearing it. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I think it’s for the best that we aren’t involved like that. I want to be with Astarion.”
“I see. I suppose he does have a certain charm about him, if you’re into that sort of thing.” He sighed, “I’ll just put my feelings to one side. I think that’s best for everyone. It’s certainly the best thing for me. I won’t leave, unless you want me to. Or until fate forces my hand, your friendship is all we have. And I will be happy to have it, eventually.”
Tav’s heart broke for the man. It must be quite painful to not have those feelings returned. For a moment, she thought about what she would do if Astarion ever stops feeling the things he says he feels for her. And the thought almost brought tears to her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she couldn’t hide the crack in her voice. But Gale was never going to be the cause of it.
“Worry not. I carry my regrets wherever I go and I am used to their weight. One more will not break my back.” He gripped her hands one final time before she pulled away.
She gave him a sad smile before walking over to where Karlach and Astarion stood. Grabbing the bottle from Astarion’s hands, she drank deep for a moment. They both glanced at each other before turning back towards the Elf. She handed the bottle back to him before smiling at Karlach, “Is there anything you have to admit to me? Any deep romantic feelings or attachment?”
Karlach laughed, “What? No, soldier!” She put her still warm hand on the much smaller elf’s shoulder. “You’re a dear friend. More than that, you’re family.”
Tav’s shoulders dropped, “Oh thank the Gods.” She turned to Astarion who was watching her with raised eyebrows, “Bed?”
The moment they were inside his tent, she buried her face in his chest with her arms wrapped so tightly around his waist. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did the mean mage say something he shouldn’t have?”
She didn’t want to pull far enough away to answer him. She didn’t want him to see her start to cry. She just shook her head and held him as close as she could. She wasn’t sure how to process these feelings. The vampire spawn just wrapped his arms around her trembling form.
“You don’t have to say anything, just nod your head. Did Gale hurt you in any way?” She could hear the growl in his voice. It sounded more dangerous than normal.
She pulled away with a deep inhale. She looked up at him with tears already streaming down her face. With a sniffle she whispered, “Gale admitted he had feelings for me, yes. But then I thought about how miserable life would be without you in it.”
Astarion froze, his body tensed. “So let me get this straight,” he swallowed, more nervous than he’s ever really been before. “You told Gale you’re not interested just to be with me? I do come with my complications, my love.”
She let out a breathy laugh, “I told Gale I’m not interested because I’m simply not interested.” Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek, “I just don’t ever want to imagine a life without you again. A world where you’re not with me. Because you’ve always been near, even if I didn’t know it.”
He remembers the night he told her about Cazador. The night he told her about the Szarr palace was also the same night she had told her about her tower. And how she could see the palace from her desk. It was true, they really have always been close in one way or another. “And you got that worked up because…?”
“I wouldn’t even know what I was missing,” she smiled at him, eyes still full of emotion. “You’ve been all of my firsts. First kiss, first night together. Hells, the first time I’ve held someone's hand was with you. This is all still very new to me. And the moment I thought about you not being with me I-” she let out a choked sob before gripping his shirt in her fists and burying her face in his chest once again.
For a moment, the vampire spawn didn’t react. It still takes him a moment to return affection but he managed to wrap his arms around the trembling bard. He swallowed before gently rubbing the small of her back. The thought of someone wanting him this badly was…daunting, to say the least. He knew if they had met before the nautiloid, he’d mark her as a victim. She was pretty and just naive enough to fall for him. Hells, he had even known her parents. Cazador loved having the city’s nobility over, but never her.
She was always the princess in the tower. Always there but never seen. Even Cazador had thought she was a mere rumor and nothing else.
For a while, he just held her while she cried. He wasn’t sure what else he could do besides hold her. Nothing he could say would comfort her. They weren’t even sure if they would survive this mess. So he pulled her closer. The rest of the night passed as they were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Soft, whispered words of a future sprinkled with hope. For the first time in his unlife, he had more than just hope.
The next couple of days passed uneventfully. They were only traveling, plain and simple. Onwards to Baldur’s Gate. Where all of their dooms or salvations lay. In the gloom of it all, Tav wanted some fun. She had gone to Shadowheart and pilfered some of her extra blankets with promises to replace them once they reached the city. As they set up camp yet again, she made her way towards the lake side. She laid out all of the blankets in a large square before finding the extra food she had squirreled away. And pulled out the best wine she could find. It was an obviously aged bottle still covered in a thick layer of dust, but the label looked fancy. She truly knew nothing about wine so she prayed to whomever was listening that it wasn’t swill. She then adjusted her bustier in an awkward manner before smiling to herself and searching for the vampire spawn.
He wasn’t hard to find. No one heard what she whispered in his ear. But they certainly noticed the fond smile and raised eyebrows as she dragged him away from the camp. Astarion looked at the little picnic she had put together, his hand in hers before kissing the top of her head. “And what’s the special occasion, darling?”
She smiled up at him, unabashed emotion in her eyes with a grin on her face. She was truly divine in the moonlight. She shrugged, “I just wanted to do something nice for you. We reach Baldur’s Gate in a couple days and we have to hit the ground running soon. I just wanted to take a moment, just for us.” She picked up the bottle of wine she had found, “I hope it’s okay. I know it’s old but I don’t know if it’s good.”
He smiled and pulled her close. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?”
The tips of her ears flushed as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. And then they sat and talked and ate and drank. They spoke about the Gauntlet of Shar, about the monastery, about the Moonrise Towers. And the conversation drifted to their party as Tav slowly became more and more tipsy. She talked about Wyll and his obvious daddy issues. Shadowheart and her love for more adult literature. And Astarion was all too happy to sit and listen to her. It’s one of the things that drew him to her, after all. She could read people like they were a book she was all too happy to read.
As the evening turned into night, the pair ended up against a nearby rock. Tav sitting on his lap as he peppered her neck with kisses. And as Tav’s giggles turned into soft moans as his hands started to travel to her waist. “You should keep quiet, my sweet, we wouldn’t want to wake the entire camp up. Would we?” He whispered before nipping at the base of her neck.
“I-I think you’d like that far too much,” she managed to gasp out as he helped her rock her hips back and forth against him.
He chuckled against her neck, leaving trails of almost bites with his fangs. “What ever makes you say that?”
“Astarion!” She moaned, grabbing the back of his head as he finally sank his teeth into her neck. She gripped his curls in one hand and dug her nails into his shoulder with the other. Her hips moved on their own as he slowly drank from her. His arms wrapped around her waist as he held her up. Between the wine and him drinking from her, she felt lightheaded. But that made the friction between them feel all the more intense.
“You always taste just so perfect, my love.” He slowly released her neck before slamming his lips against hers. He knew he was being needy but he craved her. As his lips melded against hers his nimble fingers went to work on the knots of her bustier. It never took him long to get her out of her clothes and tonight was no exception.
She grabbed his hands before he could fully remove her bustier, cradling his hands in hers. “Are you sure you want to do this? We really don’t have to. I’m happy to just sit here with you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, something meant just for him.
He smiled at her before kissing her again, “Darling, if I didn’t wish to have you, I wouldn’t have you half dressed sitting on my lap.”
She smiled and let go of his hands and let him return to practically tearing off her clothing. He wasn’t satisfied until she was sat on his lap in nothing but her underwear. His face buried in her breasts, leaving small little nicks with his teeth as he made his way back up to her lips. Her hands gripped his shoulder as he snaked his hand down her body. He made sure to feel all the softness that was still on her body, never failing to trace her curves.
Tav was small but years in a tower had made her body gentle. Her hands were rough from her instruments, yes, and she did have a lot of skill with a blade. But she was in no way muscular. And Astarion enjoyed that more than he could say. He enjoyed being able to almost see the tremors in her thighs before he felt it. Gods, he needed her.
It only took him a moment to find her clit and draw slow, gentle circles around it. Never quite touching it directly. “Darling, you’re already shaking. Did you miss me that much?”
“Yes!” She cried into his ear. “Y-you’re teasing me.” Her head fell against his shoulder as her body trembled against him.
“Oh, I’d never do such a thing,” He smiled and buried his hand in her hair. “I simply want to take my time enjoying you.” The vampire spawn slowly filled her cunt with his fingers, his palm grinding against her clit.
She tried hard to keep quiet. Really she did. But when his fingers curled inside of her? She couldn’t help but cry out his name. How was he so patient? All she wanted was to have him inside her. He pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt so painfully slowly.
Now, Tav may have been too focused on the rogue’s hands to notice anything else. But Astarion wasn’t. He knew Halsin and Gale were keeping watch tonight. He also knew it was far too late for anyone else to be awake. Which is why his hands didn’t stop when he noticed the bushes across from them moved. It was so subtle that he almost missed it.
Almost.
Someone was watching them. And he had an inkling he knew exactly who it was. The thought made him grin against Tav’s bloodsoaked neck. He sped up his fingers, holding her as she writhed against him. “That’s it, love, don’t hold a single thing back.” She came with a cry of his name. She was still trembling as he made a show of licking his own fingers clean. “I do so enjoy how you taste, my love.” He didn’t whisper this time. He wanted the wizard in the bushes to hear.
With shaking hands she went to untie the knots on his trousers. He leaned back against the rock, letting her take his length in her hands. “M-may I?” Her neck was stained just as red as the flush on her cheeks. Her big blue eyes wide in anticipation.
“May you what?” His hand went to her throat and he felt her breath catch.
“M-may I ride you?” It really was endearing how she asked. Her voice was breathless and her chest was heaving. He had never been overly rough with her. But with a voyeur in the bushes? He was more than tempted to lay claim to the nearly virgin in his lap.
He pouted at her, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, darling.”
Her eyes went wider than before. “W-what?”
She was so innocent. So pure, he had never even heard her swear before. “What is it exactly that you would like to do?” He purred, his forehead meeting hers. “Don’t play coy with me now.”
She swallowed, the tips of her ears matching the rest of her face. “Astarion,” she whined.
“If you use your words, love, I’ll be happy to give you anything you want.”
She whined again when the grip around her throat tightened ever so slightly. “I-I want-” another swallow, “I want to ride your cock.”
He smiled, “See? Now was that so hard? You did so well,” he whispered against her lips. She adjusted herself over him, still holding him in one hand while the other braced herself on his shoulder. His hand still held her throat, not quite squeezing just letting her know he was there. The bard lowered herself onto him. He groaned as she sank down. “Perfect.”
Her other hand flew up to his chest while she gripped his blouse so tightly that her knuckles were whiter than before. Her head spun while the wine loosened her tongue. “Gods, Astarion.”
“Use your words, darling,” he moaned against her neck, his eyes keeping an eye on the bush yet again. He wanted the wizard to see how good he could make her feel. He wanted him to see that he wasn’t even a thought on her mind. He wanted him to see that she wanted him and not Gale.
She sat for a moment, adjusting to his size before rocking her hips back and forth. Astarion’s hands flew to her hips to help guide her movements. “Feels so good,” she whimpered, still clutching at his blouse.
“That’s it, pet. You can take it, I know you can.” Her movements were entirely her own. She gradually went from rocking to bouncing. His body told him to throw his head back but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Maybe now Gale would realize she was his. Maybe he had more of a possessive streak than he thought.
“Your hand, put it back!” She used his chest as leverage for her movements. He could feel her getting close and who was he to deny her? He instinctively put his hand back around her throat and squeezed. He had never felt her tighten around him harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He let her sit like that for a moment as she started to relax once again.
Whoever was in the bushes was gone now. Either too riled up to stay or too heartbroken to watch. Either way, Astarion found it satisfying. Satisfying enough to toss Tav on her back and put her ankles on his shoulder. It was something about knowing Tav not only trusted him but chose him, drove him wild. Far more than any lover he’s had in the past. Even through her half opened eyes and her mind filled with wine and pleasure, her eyes were still filled with that emotion. That feeling that he wouldn’t dare put words to yet.
She was his. And he was equally hers.
Her moans and whimpers filled the air but he felt so far away from her. Too far. She grabbed his hands and pulled him closer, lacing her hands with his. “Beautiful,” was all she could whisper before she clenched around him. This time, he wasn’t far behind her. They laid like that for a while. Him on top of her, her tracing small patterns on his back. The scars were a reminder of what awaited them in Baldur’s Gate. But it could wait for now. For now they had each other.
“Did you see who was in the bushes?”
He immediately met her eyes, “You knew?”
“I’m naive, not stupid.” She giggled, rolling over to her side.
“I believe we just gave the magic eater quite the eyeful.”
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gratitude — leon kennedy
author’s note: i don’t love doing taglists bc it’s kind of tedious but a couple people asked to be tagged so i’ll tag them in the comments of this post! please send asks/write comments/add tags to reblog if you liked this! that would be wonderful!
wc: 3.6k
content: sub!leon x fem!reader, sugar baby leon, mommy kink, orgasm control, pegging, hickies mentioned. leon is 21 reader is ‘slightly older’.
warnings: mentions but not depictions of financial abuse, dubcon, and prostitution (seen in a negative light; we support sex workers here)
this is a birthday gift to angel! @angelofwoe go give her some love :)
—
5. 4. 3. 2. 1…
incoming call from ‘leon ken(nedy)’
accept or decline?
you look over at your phone while you’re waiting at a red light, driving home from work. you smile, like clockwork, leon calls you at exactly 5 pm each day, and most of the time, you’re coming home. to him. the thought still makes your heart jump a little bit. leon is waiting at home, your home, and now his home too, for you.
he’s waiting for you.
god, your stomach does somersaults. he’s perfect.
you answer the call, clicking it on and waiting for it to connect the two of you, “hello?”
“hey!” he says, and you missed his voice. you smile softly at his enthusiasm, “what should i get and/or make for dinner? don’t know if you trust me to cook in your kitchen unsupervised yet…”
“i would let you,” you say, looking out the window, “though maybe i’d stop by a cafe for dinner on my way home.”
“hey, c’mon now!” he tries to defend himself, but he laughs, god you’re obsessed with that sound, “okay, okay, fair. i get it. really, though, what’ll it be?”
you think for a second, and you realize that leon doesn’t really ever get a choice, he just goes along with whatever you want, “hmm… why don’t you pick, baby?”
he goes silent for a second, “you sure?” and when you make a sound of approval, even though he gave you a chance to back out, he sighs, “fine. don’t say i didn’t warn you when we’re eating chicken nuggets tonight.”
“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” you smile.
—
“wow, what fine cuisine, leon,” he smiles at the sound of your teasing voice. he can’t help liking you. i mean, how is he supposed to not like you? not only do you take care of him, buy him nice things, but you’re also so fucking pretty? what the hell?
“anyway, i’ll see you soon, baby. miss me a little bit, but not too much, okay?” you tell him, breaking him out of the daze that is listening to you talk. he feels bad that he wasn’t really paying attention to what you were saying.
“y-yeah. i’ll see you at home,” he stutters, quickly hanging up, clutching his phone to his chest. home. your… home. god, this was bad. he was going to go insane one of these days if you didn’t stop being so goddamn perfect.
leon had this preconception forever ago that sugar daddies and mommies and whatever the hell else were always old, decrepit people who gave you money for basically doing your best not to gag when you see them naked. people you take advantage of, who you give your body to in exchange for being able to afford anything. it’s an exchange, sex for money (no, sex for power). which would make him a… prostitute? he doesn’t know. he doesn’t want to know.
but god, you are so much more than that, practically his dream woman. sure, you’re a little older than him, but it’s not like girls his age are soft and sweet with him like you are. they expect so much, they expect him to be the perfect boyfriend 24/7. he could do it, sure, but it would be an act. a desperate act of manipulation for him to get what he wants.
what does he want? well, that’s the tricky part. he tries not to let on too much how intensely this one thing affects him, even with you. it would be too much power to let you have over him, and you already have way too much.
truthfully, you… leon doesn’t like to think about it, but you could take advantage of him if you really wanted to. he’s so used to such an easy lifestyle, he can’t go back to struggling and barely paying his bills. you really could use him for the one and only thing he has to give you whenever you please, and it’s not even that he can’t stop you, because he knows he’s stronger than you, but he knows you could dangle your financial control over his head and he would be at your feet, on his knees in an instant.
he doesn’t know why he even bothers to think about it. he knows you’re not like that. hell, he looks at you with half decent puppy eyes and you’re sending him more money just because he looks cuter than usual today. if anyone is the master manipulator here, it’s him, not you. you have only pure intentions, and leon appreciates that even if he can never 100% trust it.
—
leon is a weird sugar baby. he doesn’t ask for things, he doesn’t use up all of his allowance, he doesn’t beg you for every shiny thing that catches his eye. he’s simple, not demanding, not exhausting you of every last penny in your account.
not that you would… really care? leon could do anything, absolutely anything, and you’d forgive him. he doesn’t need your forgiveness, not for the sassy little jokes he makes, not for the way he awkwardly says the wrong thing at the wrong time in conversation. leon was easy to forgive. easy to adore.
but, that's off topic. you try not to think about how lovable the pretty thing was. too easily you could get lost in him, never make it out alive.
he’s not demanding, he just uses your money to pay for his rent and take care of himself, his bills, his utilities and groceries, stuff like that. or well he used to use the money to pay for his rent, but now that he’s moved in with you, he doesn’t even have that expense anymore. he might treat himself and buy himself a little something small he normally couldn’t afford. the rest he’ll save.
can you blame the guy for being so cheap? he finished the police academy, but the job he had lined up fell through. so what is he supposed to do? work a minimum wage job? serve tables until he dies or his body gives out on him? sue him for wanting better for himself.
and so… he met you. he had no intention of using you.. at first. but even now he feels bad. he truly can’t get on board with being a sugar baby, he feels like he’s extorting you. you have to tell him each and every time his bank account number skyrockets that you will always have enough to continue your lifestyle, what's the point of just having the rest of it sitting around when you could be giving it to a pretty little thing like him?
still.. sometimes leon feels awful. can’t help it no matter what you tell him.
he just can’t really afford to say no to the money, because now he has all of his debt paid off and an emergency fund and a savings account for fun trips to take you on and another one for expensive gifts to buy you as a small, tiny, miniscule thank you. it’s only one part of how he really shows his gratitude. you’ve given him a better life than he could ever give himself, and he will never forget that.
how else does he show his gratitude?
–
you make it home, and immediately see the containers of chicken nuggets on the kitchen counter. you chuckle, again, endeared by leon’s choice of cuisine. it was what he wanted, after all, and you always let him have whatever he wanted. it’s so representative of him. they’re inexpensive, perfect for someone so frugal like him. they’re a comfort food, easy on the stomach, they’re delicious, and that’s probably all of the comparisons you could make between chicken nuggets and leon kennedy before you burst out laughing in delirium.
“oh thank god you’re home…” he says softly, reaching to grab your bag and your coat to put up so you can sit down, “i’m so glad you’re back, you must have worked so hard today.”
you lean in to press a quick kiss to his lips before doing so, and he’s immediately left dazed after just one little half-a-second long kiss. his eyes follow you as you collapse on the couch, “yeah, it was a long one. just glad to be back with you, baby.”
his heart aches for you as you sink into the couch, exhaustion present in your entire demeanor, seeping off of you through the cracks in your composure.
he knows what’ll make you feel better. or at least… he hopes he does. if you’re not in the mood, he’ll just laugh awkwardly and try to play it off.
he takes a deep breath in, bracing himself for the awkwardness that always comes with saying this word, “…mommy,” he whispers, and he immediately has all of your attention, suddenly all that exhaustion in your soul is replaced by an intensity that he can’t quite understand.
one word… and you’re already losing your composure? he didn’t know he was that good.
“baby…” you coo back to him, almost warning him. as if you’re saying, if you start this, you better be ready to see it through.
“wanna help you… feel better, mommy…” he says, his fingertips brushing against your thigh. fucking tease.
you always look at him like he puts the stars in the sky, but now? you’re looking at him like you want him seeing stars.
“you sure?”
“positive,” he mumbles.
again, this is all he has to give you. his love, his soul, his… body. he doesn’t want this to be transactional, sexual submission for money. he’s not a prostitute, but he genuinely has nothing else that even comes close to the value of gifts and money and just fucking everything you’ve given him.
you don’t ask for sex too often, even when he knows you’re horny. you’re so obvious but so understanding that your kinks and preferences are a little foreign to him. in his defense, he’s had one girlfriend right before he met you and she was the most vanilla person in the goddamn world. genuinely he could have switched positions on her and she would have thought it was too much.
“take me what you want from me, mommy,” he whispers, and yet for someone so inexperienced, he does it so well.
so well that you can’t help pouncing on him, pinning him underneath you. he feels your gentle yet firm grip on his wrists, the way your hair falls in front of your face as you hover on top of him, and he just has the softest urge to tuck it behind your ear. he can’t, but he wishes he could.
he doesn't get the chance to think about it much when your lips find his neck and he is immediately melted by their softness, their gentleness that makes him want to just break down and sob. he just wants to be treated softly, just wants to be held down and kissed like you’re doing right now.
“please,” he breathes, ironic because all you do is steal his breath away. your lips touch just over his subtle adam’s apple as you switch sides, pressing kisses into his neck, collarbone, and shoulder. he kind of wants you to bite down, leave red and purple aching bruises covering his neck, make him shudder and tremble with every love bite.
he knows you won’t.
“i don’t damage what’s mine,” you’d said once, and it left him dizzy. so casually asserting your ownership over him like that had his cock twitching in his pants. you very quickly learned to take advantage of his affection towards your possessiveness. you have to be subtle and you can’t do it too much, but every once and a while, you take your opportunity. you make your small little comments, you add ‘my’ in front of a pet name, you eye him like a piece of meat (intentionally being obvious so he’ll notice), etc.
your possessiveness is even better if it’s sort of objectifying. he might just like it more.
he wishes he could touch you, but what would it even be for? if you wanted him to make you feel good, you’d have shoved his face between your legs, tangled your fingers in his blonde hair, moaned as he ate your pussy while looking up at you with those pretty blue eyes, so full of an emotion you wanted to study in detail. it couldn’t be love, there’s no way. you settle for something else, even if it’s less satisfying.
devotion.
—
and even with your cock buried deep, deep inside of him, stretching him open and filling him up entirely, he’s still got that same glimmer of devotion in his eyes, but that’s irrelevant.
it’s irrelevant because he’s a desperate mess of a man right now and it’s all you should be concerned with, “mommy, fuck, please, i—”
“say you belong to me, pretty boy,” you groan in his ear, his body shivering and trembling at the pleasure that’s about to hit him. he’s gotta wait for your permission, though.
“yours, yours, fuck, all yours, my fucking body belongs to you, you can- you can use it whenever you want, however you want, for however long. it doesn't matter,” he cries,’s his voice raspy, he trying to keep himself together and he’s failing miserably, “fuck, fuck, god, and i- my body… i owe you my body as a thank you for- oh, f-fuck!- for your m-money, i- it’s all i can give you that’s worth anything-.”
“…yeah? you owe me?” you smirk, pressing your hand against his lower stomach, feeling the bulge your cock inside him. it drives you insane. he’s babbling about something you don’t care to listen to. something about being indebted to you, that sex is him paying you back for how perfect you are. you don’t listen. it’ll just make you sad.
“gonna give me what i want, right? because you owe me,” you say. sure, you felt bad, but you never said you were pure good. you’re entitled to leon and everything he could possibly give you, aren’t you?
he tries to speak, but your cock always makes him as stupid as can be. he tries, oh he tries, to respond, to say yes, i’ll give you everything, i’m all yours to claim and keep forever, but the sounds come out as jumbled moans out of the back of his throat. he gives up trying to talk, clearly that’s beyond him now, and communicates his feelings by holding your waist gently, his fingertips pressing against your skin.
he moans out absolutely pathetically as you thrust in and out of him, keeping him held down with your hands pushing down on his shoulders. his body contorts to your will, his soul too. you could do anything to him and get away with it, with him in this beautiful headspace.
he’s gorgeous like this, and you take a moment to admire him. glassy, distant , tear filled eyes, sweaty blonde hair, skin little with small marks of whatever lip product you use. god, he’s nothing less than fucking perfect.
if only you both didn’t have responsibilities in your everyday lives because the only thing that could make him prettier is if he was like this every single day, fucked out of his mind, desperate, stupid from the pleasure of your cock pushing firmly against his prostate.
“gonna cum, baby?” you ask maliciously, knowing he didn’t have enough of his mind working to even register the question, “gonna give yourself over to mommy? live in her home, let her keep you as a pet? couldn’t leave her even if you wanted to, and you definitely don’t.”
he looks for an out as his eyes shift up at the ceiling, still somehow finding it in himself to be shy.
“look at me,” you growl, one hand moving to his face to cup his cheek, fingertips brushing against his jaw. he obeys, making weak eye contact, blinking the tears away from his eyes, “ask me for permission to cum.”
cruel? yes, because the most his stupid mind can come up with to say is that pretty name you make him call you, “m-mommy…”
you remember him looking at you confused, almost a little uncomfortable, when you said you liked that name. it definitely tracks, you’re his sugar mommy… and you expect him to call him mommy. not exactly revolutionary, but his hesitancy to do so is what makes these moments truly special. earlier, he said it intentionally, mainly to get your attention and get you riled up, distracted from work and responsibilities.
but now? he truly can’t help it falling past his lips. every time he says it, or more accurately moans it, he feels even more attached to it, attached to you. he’s imagined saying it more casually, in everyday conversation, but he could never get over how humiliating it felt.
you graciously let him call you by name most of the time, something he has been endlessly grateful for.
but in this headspace, leon can’t think of a single other word but mommy.
“c’mon, sweetheart. won’t get any easier to think with mommy’s cock deep inside of you. mommy can wait all night sweetheart, but i’m not sure you can.”
he can’t. he knows he can’t cum because you haven’t given him permission, but he can’t ask permission if you keep saying things that make him dumber and slower. he can hold off his orgasm for a while when he tops, he’s gotten decently good at that, but with your cock filling him up like this? he would be lucky if he lasted another minute.
“fuck- ah, mommy… m-mommy, plea…. please…” he breathes heavily, trying so damn hard, it melts your heart how badly he’s trying for you.
“please what, baby? you know i’ll say yes, just ask mommy what you want.”
wet cheeks and trembling lips from him make your heart ache for him. you’d give him anything.
“c-cum, mommy?…. c-can i…?”
you nod, biting your lip, almost more excited than he is to watch him fall apart, “mhm, ‘course, baby… let go for mommy, i got you… here…” you say, taking a hold of his cock to jerk him off through his orgasm to get everything you can from him, milk him for all he’s worth. his body tries to give you everything it can.
his eyes shut tightly as he gives you the loudest moan probably… ever? you’ve never heard him cry out like that, and you wish you could have recorded it to go back and hear it again. his voice breaks, and he takes a sharp breath in, holding it as his muscles tense and spasm until he’s left achy and exhausted and filled to the brim with pleasure.
“awhh…. so cute, baby…” you mumble, “c’mon, give me all of it, don’t make me make you cum again. if it’s anything like the first, you might just pass out, sweet boy.”
“ah… oh, oh my god,” he breathes heavily, twitching, “mommy… mommy, i- mommy, please… please, mommy,” he can’t stop thinking about it. mommy is all he can think about like this.
he cries, literally. the kind where you can’t help sobbing and sniffing and you curl in on yourself in a desperate attempt to self soothe. you half expected it; leon usually cries after more intense sex. he doesn’t know why, but usually he’s embarrassed of it and tries to hide it. he must just be too far gone right now to care.
you pull out, earning a desperate whine that makes you want to rail it back into him, balls deep, watch him squeeze his eyes shut tightly and him scream in pleasure, but you restrain yourself. he's crying right now. even though he would technically consent, he wouldn’t really want it.
you take 30 seconds to clean both of you off, and those 30 seconds are tortuous to him, even if you’re praising him the whole time.
that’s it. his greatest weakness. praise.
no, your praise.
to be told he’s good, to be told he did a good job, to be told you’re proud of him. he sobs as he soaks in your praise like a sponge. he wants to listen to your sweet words every single day for the rest of his life. you whisper to him how he’s perfect, everything about him is, how you adore him, wanna give him everything so he’ll stay with you forever, etc.
in his defense, he has absolutely zero control over what he’s saying right now, but he looks up at you, with tear-filled, red eyes, his bottom lip trembling just slightly, “you don’t have to give me stuff… i’m always gonna be yours.”
and it hits a nerve you haven’t felt in a long time. maybe it’s the subspace he’s in, or maybe you’re reading the situation wrong, so you don’t push it, but something inside your heart feels… off.
to put it bluntly, he shouldn’t be yours. he should find someone he could really love to spend his days with. there’s no reason for leon to stay with you if you stopped giving him money, paying his bills, and taking care of him. at least, there shouldn’t be?
oh, unless…
–
a couple hours later, you’re sitting at the kitchen counter with him, eating cold chicken nuggets and giggling about whatever you were watching on tv. leon looks at you a little differently than usual right now, his eyes softer, fonder than you’re used to. his eyes carefully track your more animated hand movements as you passionately explain something about this show. he has no idea what you’re talking about; he just likes hearing you speak.
he kisses the corner of your lip when you jokingly ask if you have anything on your face, which turns into a full kiss that leaves him a little breathless, that feeling of excitement and nerves returning in his stomach.
yeah, he thinks to himself, pure, unadulterated beauty.
as you kiss, he pulls back to look into your eyes, looking at you as if you held up each individual constellation for him, with a godly reverence that would almost turn you on if the moment wasn’t weirdly romantic.
“baby…?” your voice sounds shaky and unsure, and he doesn’t miss your lack of composure.
maybe that was a good thing. a sign.
he chuckles, “nothing, mommy… nothing at all.”
#sub leon kennedy#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon s. kennedy#leon kennedy smut#sub leon kennedy smut#resident evil#leon kennedy resident evil#resident evil smut#reader insert#smut#sub!leon#re2r leon#re2 smut#re2#re2r#re4#re4 leon#re4 remake#re4 smut#resident evil 4
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call me crosby → part six
summary: Young, reckless, and rash, an unplanned pregnancy causes a massive rift in your relationship with then, cup-hungry 27 year-old Sidney Crosby. As he gets caught up in his own childish and selfish ways, confused to what was once certain, he lets you struggle alone. His absence reasons a miscarriage scare that leads you to end the relationship. Years after losing you, having to live a life that’s surrounded with the families his friends have built through the years embodies his greatest regret. Now with three cups and tons of awards at his disposal, Sid is given a chance to right his wrongs and win what was once the biggest loss of his life.
pairing: sidney crosby x fem!reader gen. warnings: language and theme, co-parenting, mentions of pregnancy & false miscarriage, sexual/suggestive themes, 18+ ch. warnings: parenting, tantrums, and a tad bit of angst genre: hockey rpf, fluff, angst, kid-fic, exes to lovers length: series; 5.2k masterlist: the barn, series masterlist
note: REALLY hoping i get to finish this while on my uni break. This was supposed to be posted on father's day but ya girl was on a trip i had to make most of it yk! Also, do note that the italicized part is a quick flashback. Anyway, happy reading! <3 (gif used: mine)
disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. teasers, interviews, events, and the like that are included in the series are purely made for fictional purposes and do not/should not represent any of the names involved in real life. please proceed with caution.
Two words. Terrible twos.
It was one of the things your mom has told you about raising a child of your own. It was a stage full of tantrums and frustrations; one you’ve never dealt with before. You were told that it was overwhelming, that you have to prepare yourself mentally and physically for it. However, your son, as the marvel child that he is, was so good at that age that you need not have to worry about it.
Well, not until a few years later.
“Mommy, please!” Luke wails in frustration from the living room.
He has been asking for a little more screen time watching his show instead of doing his homework. And be that as it may, he has been adamant about not getting what he wanted.
This has been going on for a couple of weeks, following Luke’s realization of not getting to play much of hockey. Frankly, as well as not seeing much of Sidney.
“Honey, you’ve been watching for almost two hours. That’s enough.” you say, massaging your temple as you walk towards where he is, trying not to lose your temper.
You and your son have always been in sync. You have not really had the chance to reprimand or give him a good scolding. Lucas is a fairly calm child right from the beginning. To say the least, dealing with his temper tantrums now is a lot harder than you’ve prepared for.
You see him sitting on the couch holding the remote tightly. His cheeks are still evidently damp from all the crying. You know he’s bound to strain his voice just by looking at him.
“Two hours is not enough!” he appeals. Just like you thought, his voice is now nearly gone from all the screaming. “Please, I want my TV!”
It is during times like this where you have to try harder as a mother. You know it will not always be rainbows with Luke. But despite your efforts to ensure that he would be able to express himself when you greatly need it, you can’t blame a child for not knowing exactly how he feels nor the reason for it. You just wish he’d be able to let you know even just a little. At least then, you could make it all better.
“Baby,” you endearingly call for him as you approach.
With a soft smile on your face, you caress his hair. Your hands then fall to his cheeks so as to wipe his tears away.
“You’ve already watched a lot of episodes today...” you carefully work your way in; gently reminding him of his acquired screen time.
Frustratingly, Luke’s voice breaks as he tries to tell you he wasn’t going to watch any more episodes of Paw Patrol and the new Lego Spiderman.
“Then what were you trying to watch?” you ask him with the same nurturing voice.
You see Luke shoot a glance over the screen that you’ve already turned off half an hour ago.
Yes, this has been going on for that long.
“Mkay, you may turn it on so you can show me.”
There comes a glint of hope in his eyes the moment he hears you. You fight the urge to chuckle, finding it quite adorable.
Luke, now standing on his feet, finds the red power button and points it towards the television. Once it’s turned on, the thumbnail of a show greets you; one that you least expected– one that you clearly were not ready for.
“So tell us guys, how can we make hockey more fun?” said the last voice you wanted to hear.
Sid and Nathan in their respective jersey’s for a commercial a few years back comes into view. You know that it was one of his brand commitments that he still does to this day. You were just not aware that Tim Horton’s apparently had this particular video uploaded for everyone to see.
As you watch the clip turn over to a handful of kids skating towards the two famed athletes, you make the mistake of taking the remote from your son to pause the short youtube clip quite hastily. You inevitably surprise him with your reaction thereby scaring him.
Upon deducing that you were upset by the show that he has chosen, Luke begins to cry even harder than before.
Alarmed, you put away the remote and reached for him. You let him fall in your arms whilst he buried his face in your chest.
“I’m sorry, baby. Mommy didn’t mean that.” you try to convince him, caressing his head. You feel disgusted with yourself because you know this is not the way you wanted this moment to unfold.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mommy.” Luke says in between his sobbing. He hugs you tighter whilst in a heaping mess.
“Hush, it’s okay.” you comfort him. “I’m sorry too.”
You let him cry himself out. It may be heartbreaking for you, but you couldn’t think of any other way to help your seemingly helpless child. The only thing you could offer him is the assurance that you will always be by his side when he needs you.
You know that the overwhelming surge of emotion he’s feeling now is quite new for him. Dealing with his outburst may be tough on your end, but you can’t even imagine how much harder it must have been for a child to be utterly clueless as to why he is crying.
Swiftly, just like you used to do when he was a baby, you sway your body whilst Luke stays in your embrace. Once Luke’s breathing begins to calm down, you lovingly caress his back; deciding to try again.
“How are you feeling, darling?”
Luke doesn’t utter a word. However, you feel him move even closer to your body as if there was any space left. You tighten your hold on him as you place a kiss atop his forehead.
“Mommy’s not mad at you, okay?”
With what you assume is the last of his sobs, Luke quietly replies, “Okay…”
He breaks away from your hold and looks you in the eye, “I’m sorry.”
You offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to scare you, honey.”
You plant a wet kiss atop his nose, making him giggle.
“May I know why you wanted to watch more TV?” you ask.
When you see a hint of hesitation on his demeanor you add, “I’m not upset. I promise. Go on, you can tell me.”
“Sidney…”
“Do– Do you miss him?” you ask hesitantly, afraid to hear what his answer might be.
Your son nods, “Uh-huh.”
Of course.
Luke continues, “He said… he’s going to play with me when he comes back.”
“Where is he, Mom? Why isn’t he back?”
“I…” you struggle. You didn’t know how to tell him that this was all because of your doing. “I don’t know, honey.”
Luke looks at you with his little eyes, all too tired from crying. “Doesn’t he wanna play with me?”
You shake your head, determined not to put thoughts in his head that could be a detriment as to how he saw Sidney. Funny how you still instinctively did things for Sidney’s sake.
“Of course, he does, sweetheart. He’s just—”
Your son interrupts, “He’s just what?”
You caress his cheek as you say, “He needed to take care of some stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
You hum, playing with his hair. “Stuff like what Mom also has to take care of sometimes.”
You think of an example. “Like, when I leave you with Aunt Claire for a little while, you remember?”
He looks up at you with enthusiasm in his voice when he says, “Aunt Claire always gives me M&Ms.”
You give him a warm and knowing smile. “She does, doesn’t she?”
Your son continues, “She also gives me candy when you come back.”
“Yes! See– I always come back, right?” you begin to explain. “Sidney’s gonna come back too, honey. It’s just taking a while. We need to wait a bit longer.”
Luke tilts his head, “Longer?”
“Yes, right. Can you do that? Can you wait a little more for Sidney?”
Once again, only with a discernible smile spreading on his lips, your son nods.
“Are you gonna wait for him too?”
It takes a few seconds before you are able to answer.
“Yes. I am also waiting for him.”
𖥸
Days have gone and your son stayed true to his words. He’s waiting patiently for Sidney.
In the meantime, Luke has shifted his focus on his art albeit not entirely off hockey given that most of his drawings were of hockey sticks, pucks, and the Pittsburgh Penguins logo.
You no longer mind for as long as he is, for lack of a better term, distracted. You and Sidney have remained in no contact with one another and it is highly likely to remain the same. You may have kept in touch with Cath and Anna but neither of them gave you word as to how Sidney was doing. Surely, they were thinking you did not really care for it. Did you?
You sigh, watching your son soundly asleep as he takes his afternoon nap. Days have been quite easier ever since the night you last saw Sidney. But you have to admit, seeing your son’s room now reminds you of him. You would have easily shut down the idea of having Sidney taint the corners of your home with his presence; particularly your son’s room. It would have easily aggravated you, perhaps fuel the hate you have for him even more. How come you don’t? How come what you feel instead is the void in your gut that is melancholy.
Quietly, you shut the door of your son’s room to let him rest.
You have been pondering as to how to remedy your situation with Sidney but alas, nothing came close to a practicable and civil reconciliation. You knew full well that co-parenting would be hard given the fact that it was one of the reasons why you chose to be your son’s only parent. You just fell short of realizing how it will equally be as hard on you. As much as you’d give every fiber of your being to be the best Mother you can be to your child, it kills you to acknowledge that Luke needs someone other than you, even more so that it inevitably means him needing his father.
Perhaps Sidney isn’t the only one who had a hand in everything falling apart. ‘Perhaps’ is a little far fetched but a mere inkling would suffice. You are not yet ready to acknowledge you had your share in the wrongs that make up this little broken family of yours.
You were putting away Luke’s plushies in his toy bin when you heard the doorbell ring. You place the bin on the floor before you make your way to the front door. It was unusual given that you were not really expecting anyone to drop by. The only close friends you have in the city would not be so careless in doing so for obvious reasons.
You take a quick glance on the doorbell camera and your heart immediately sinks.
Of all the people you’d expect to be waiting at the other side of the door, she would be the last one.
The moment you opened the door you were welcomed with eyes as blue as the ocean back home, hair that is as gold as the afternoon sun, and a smile that’s entirely identical to Sidney’s and your son’s.
Close to losing all the words you know, you were able to say one name.
“Taylor.”
She wastes no second, “Is it true?”
You see Taylor’s eyes wander off to Luke’s toy bin sitting idly near the staircase. The discerning look on her face let you know she no longer needed an answer.
“Come in.” you say.
Quiet and unsettling air sits as you invite Sidney’s sister inside your home. You did not really know where to begin. The best thing you can do now is to lead her to your living room, offer some tea, and sit in silence.
“Can I get you anything? I might have some tea lying around.” you say, offering formalities.
Taylor gives you a tight-lipped smile. Reserved. You get it. You would be too if you recently learned you had a nephew.
“Water would be nice.” she replies.
You give her a swift nod just as you tell her, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
You turn on your heels and make your way towards the kitchen with cold hands and a pounding heart. Sitting with Sidney’s sister for afternoon tea isn’t exactly what you had in mind spending your time off work.
Needless to say, you prolong the trip to the kitchen and back to the living room. You need to buy yourself some time to process what’s about to happen.
Upon your return, you see Taylor looking at the photo wall you’ve created through the years. The very same one you caught Sidney looking at the first time you invited him over.
When the two of you catch each other’s gaze, you offer Taylor an apologetic smile. It’s true. You now realize how your new life — your growth looked like through the eyes of your old friends. A harsh reminder that none of them are in it.
You and Taylor were good friends ever since Sidney brought you to Halifax to meet his folks. You always had a hard time warming up to people you barely know, but with Taylor… well, she made it so easy.
If only she knew of the things you’ve gone through subsequent to the better parts of your life with her brother. Maybe then, she’d understand.
The two of you utter each other’s names at once, immediately stopping upon realization.
You gladly let Taylor know she could continue what she was about to say. After all, you know she has nothing but questions that only you could answer.
The first thing she asks is, “What happened?”
You begin to explain. You tell her about the first time you knew you were pregnant, the moment you told Sidney, and how things unraveled shortly after that. You spared her no detail of what has come and gone; the years that flew by so quickly and dreadfully slow at the same time.
“I didn’t know things were that hard,” she says apologetically, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because,” you pause, “I knew Sidney felt alone.”
With kind eyes, Taylor replies, “So were you.”
Taylor has always been on your side despite being Sidney’s sister. She knew how difficult her brother can be. After all, she grew up with him.
You sigh because what she said was true. You and Sidney were alone together. But regardless of the wall that separated the two of you, you didn’t want to let Sidney feel as alone as you felt when he left you. Maybe that’s why you inadvertently left Taylor out of the mess just so Sidney felt he still had someone on his side.
“At the time everyone blamed him for not wanting a child.” you begin, “I knew that if I told you, you’d feel the same as I do. I didn’t want him to feel that his sister was against him too.”
“Listen,” she says, “When Sid told me, I swore that I was gonna come up here and be mad at you… but for years, I’ve seen how the game ate up most of the Sid I knew. So I guess, I couldn’t really blame you.”
“I only did what I thought was the best for us.” you say honestly, “I just didn’t think the repercussions of my action would bring us into this much mess.”
It’s true. The life you pictured with your son excluded Sidney, but you should have known that what Claire told you was right the moment you came back to Pittsburgh with your son. Sure, the first year went by so blissfully. But you have forgotten yet another circumstance you should have known before you dealt another card: Luke.
Luke is growing up exactly how you dreamt him to be. A boy who has a mind of his own. You cannot really expect him to go along your every plan if he’s already becoming his own person, can you?
You hate yourself for it. However, you’ll hate yourself even more if you deprive him of something he is entitled to have no matter how much you’re against it.
Taylor stayed for a while. You spend the time showing her memories you’ve made with Luke. You showed pictures of your son as a newborn, the many birthday parties you have thrown for him, even the ones you have taken of him playing hockey. Taylor savored every bit of the nephew she could get to know. The only thing left now is to finally meet him.
With nothing but a humble heart you hold Taylor’s hand and say, “I’m really sorry.”
Taylor puts her hand on top of yours, giving it a squeeze. “I understand.”
“Do you want to meet him?”
“I do,” she gives you a warm smile, “but not when you and Sidney have yet to patch things up.”
You let go of her hand and sigh. You understood what she wanted you to do. For the first time, you wanted the same thing too.
“I’ll talk to him.”
𖥸
July has been warming up the city but your words still rang in Sidney’s ears as if it had just been uttered.
“I’m done.”
As hard as it was to admit, Sidney knew that the article was the final nail in the coffin — the final string that would make him understand why you had to keep his son away from him. Just like all the other times, you were right. He had always been less of a man much like all the others.
He couldn’t wrap his head around how he managed to screw things up worse than he already had even when he was barely making any progress. Perhaps, it was foolish of him to think he can still make it work. After all, what more remedy could he do to the very thing you have long buried six feet under?
Instead, what he did was go home to Halifax days subsequent to the release of the controversial article. The last thing he wanted was attention so he did the sanest thing he could think of: renovate his lake shed.
Apart from the fact that it was the off-season, Sidney could not see himself staying in his Pittsburgh home. The night you ended the attempt to co-parent with him only reminded Sidney of the time he foolishly thought he had already purged out of his system. It was as if he had been brought back to the night he was told his child was gone.
“Please don’t end us.” he says, knees already on the cold hospital floor. “Please don’t make me leave.”
Sidney feels your grip on his hand tighten as an attempt to break off his hold, but before you can do so, the door to your room opens to reveal Kris and Geno rushing to take Sidney away from you.
“Sidney,” he hears Geno call his name.
He didn’t budge. He wasn’t going anywhere without you. He knew you needed him. He understood what had to be done. A little too late, but he’s here now.
“Y/N-”
“Sid,” Kris places a hand on his shoulder just as he firmly says, “let her rest.”
It was the least Sidney could do. To let you be — as he had easily done so when it was the last thing you wanted.
Sidney came back to the hospital with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. He walked the halls with hope only to find out you were no longer there. He had been cut off as soon as Kris and Geno walked him out of your hospital room — the last time he was ever going to see you.
He waited for hours sitting on the lobby bench beside your hospital room. If it were not for the next patient arriving to occupy the room, Sidney would not have probably left.
The days he spent in your shared home haunted him of the days he had left you alone in it waiting for him to come home. The house he had built with his fame and successes have now become a constant reminder of what a failure it really was.
Sidney sighed once he finished a glass of water. He absent mindedly places it atop the counter as his eyes remained in focus at a photograph placed on his refrigerator. It had been a while since he last saw it. After all, he only gets to go home during the off season.
He walks towards the fridge and takes the photo in his hand. It was the first sonogram you had of your son. The one you dread having to leave when you finally had the courage to leave Sidney, but the last possession Sidney has of the life he could have been living.
With eyes now glistening with impending tears, Sidney lightly rubs his thumb on the picture — what was once a tiny little peanut has grown to become a boy Sidney could no longer keep out of his mind. He’s hurting at the fact that he misses you — but his heart aches at the thought of Luke eventually forgetting about him. Sidney knows he’s going to be yet another random ‘Mr.’ at a camp that happened to teach him a sport he will grow up to forget eventually. All those memories Sidney will bring with him to his deathbed will surely be forgotten by the time the tiny little peanut graduates from college.
Who else could he blame for the life he’s now living however miserable it may be? You offered him this life with your own life on the line. Sidney did nothing but toss it aside because he was set on his ways. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Perhaps, that’s what he should bring to his deathbed.
Sidney’s self-loathing was put into a halt when he heard a chime coming from his phone already buzzing on his kitchen counter.
He sees a message that almost had him on his knees.
Just below your name were the words he had least expected but mostly hoped to read, “Can we talk?”
𖥸
As soon as you were able to set a date, Sidney wasted no time and got in the next flight bound for Pittsburgh. Sidney had two days to prepare before meeting you and while that seemed like enough time to be able to think about what he’s going to say the moment he sees you, he could neither ascertain how to explain nor justify his shortcomings. So, he won’t.
Sidney watches your car pull over the driveway after having opened his gate. After the tedious two-day wait, you were back. Well, at least that’s what Sidney thought at the time. Because unlike him, it was not just two days — it has been six years.
Sidney was chivalrous enough to let a few seconds pass before he finally opened the door for you although to tell you the truth, he had been at the other side of it long before you rang the doorbell.
You follow Sidney’s steps as you make your way to the living room. Said walk was not like the others you used to thread on back when you were still together — it wasn’t so long and quiet. At least, it didn’t feel that way.
“Can I offer you a drink?” Sidney asks. The hoarseness in his voice strung along his words.
Has he been crying that much? His eyes were a bit tired. He hasn’t been sleeping. How come Kris said he was fine? But then again, Sidney has had quite a talent in putting up a facade. You catch him fiddling his thumb. When he sees where your eyes have been, Sidney immediately takes his hand into his pocket.
You immediately put your gaze elsewhere. “Uh, just water.”
As you scan the view that is Sidney Crosby’s home, one thing comes to mind: it looks nothing like Connor Mcdavid’s. Sidney’s was far more deserving to be featured in Architectural Digest. To hell with black and metal. This was a home.
Well, it is. Just not for Sidney.
Even if it was, a part of you knew Sidney would never parade his home for everyone else to see; let alone have it printed on a magazine.
Apart from the wood panels that fashioned the ceilings, everything else was unfamiliar. It was as if you never lived in it. He had new pieces displayed in various corners of the room. Some of it worth millions sitting idly beside or on top of worn out books like some mere paper weight.
Sidney also redid the floors. Neutral wide plank flooring. You thought that it was quite a bold choice considering the majority of the furniture you had before came in dark tones. But then, that made you realize Sidney also bought new furniture. He also changed a few fixtures, here and there. The white french sliding doors leading to the patio were now replaced with glass doors that had wood trimmings as well as the hallway leading to your old home office that now had interior glass doors. You notice tons of boxes you could see from the other side. Perhaps, he thought it would now be a good use for a storage space. After all, he had to fill in every bit of void you’ve left him with.
You tear your eyes away from the halls you used to frequent. Instead, you quietly follow Sidney’s footsteps. The house still had an open floor-plan. Sidney loved seeing everything at once. At least that hasn’t changed.
“Make yourself comfortable.” he says with a tight-lipped smile just as he turns towards the kitchen.
The cloud of uncertainty was still evident and heavy. To top it all, you were neither sure of what to tell him nor where to begin. Clearly, you should have bought yourself a bit more time before ringing his doorbell.
You hold your bag close to your chest once you’ve sat in Sidney's living room. You were wrong. The changes he made were drastic. His taste then was incomparable to how it is now. The Sidney you knew then wouldn’t be so meticulous as to what type of wood to use in his fireplace or what fabric to pick when it comes to throw pillows lining the couch. Hell, he wouldn’t have thought of having one — let alone five.
A quiet smile seeps in your lips. It’s nice that something good has come out of such an ugly chapter in your lives.
Your eyes catch a shade of blue and crimson red blankly displayed on the side of the room from where you were sitting. You feel a gnawing guilt resting in your guts as the painting comes into full view. You stand as your hand travels to your chest. It was a piece by Peter Doig called the “100 Years Ago”.
A man sits alone in a canoe in the middle of a quiet and still ocean. The man looks at you helpless and tired of what must have been an arduous journey. You meet his eyes, as if it were in desperate need of help. Your help. But then again, there’s an island waiting for him — even a house sitting on top of the hill. Couldn’t he just row his way and ask for help? Perhaps his inability to do so was due to the fact that he’d already gone to that house — maybe what it really was is just as empty as what he already had in the canoe.
As the eerily still piece settles before your eyes, you can’t help but think of what it must have been like to be the one that’s stuck. The man that was torn between two distances. To choose between whatever it was sitting before his eyes and the big island he can always call home.
“Hey.”
Sidney’s voice pulls you back to your feet.
“I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” he says, two glasses of water in each hand.
“No, it’s all right.” you say.
“That–” you turn your gaze back to the painting before continuing, “That is something.”
Sidney gives a humble smile. “Thanks. I got it a couple of years back when I started renovating the place.”
It would be absurd to say that Sidney’s house has not changed since the last time you walked its halls. It did change. A lot. After all, you didn’t expect him to leave everything as it was; how you left it. Despite that, there was a little hope that Sidney did leave a bit of what might have reminded him of you untouched.
“So– listen, the reason why I came here.” you begin, hugging the glass with both your hands.
“I know. Taylor.” Sidney saves you the need to explain. “I’m sorry I told her. I wasn’t in my right mind the last couple of weeks.”
It’s true. He knew it must have been hard for you to tell Taylor everything. It was yet another reason for you to cut him completely out of your life, yet another rash decision, yet another failure. Sidney did what he could at the time and his only wish now is for you to understand. He had just lost you and his son twice. To have done otherwise would have made him lose his mind.
“No. It’s alright. She’s bound to know that she has a nephew.” you earnestly reply.
At this point, you have come to realize that you’ve been insufferable regardless of your own merits. Sidney thought he had lost a son. You couldn’t possibly deprive him of his own sister.
“How– how is he?” he asks, afraid of how he’ll be answered.
You look Sidney in his eyes just as you say, “He’s been missing you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
Sidney takes in the new information as a quiet smile spreads on his lips. Luke misses him.
Seeing Sidney’s reaction brought you a sense of guilt and warmth only a parent could feel.
“Honestly, Taylor visiting isn’t really the reason why I’m here.”
His brows quirk and asks, “What do you mean?”
“I think…” you say, fighting yourself from refusing to tell Sidney the truth. The very truth that you’re still having a hard time accepting.
“I think it’s time to acknowledge– and for me to accept, that my son needs you.”
It’s the truth. It might have been hard for you given that Sidney was the root of it all, but you could no longer put up with the way you have been treating Sidney at your son’s expense. You may still have bits of resentment towards what once was but that doesn’t give you a right to deprive your son of his right. A part of you may still hate Sidney for the pain he caused you, but you could not bear the thought of your son hating his father because of your own doing.
Sidney is at a loss for words.
“Do you really mean that?”
He sees you nod.
You give him a reassuring smile.
“It’s one thing to keep a father away from his child, but it’s another to keep a child away from his father.”
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56 DAYS (sjy) | PART ONE
pairing: enemie!jake x fem!reader | read the prequel
summary: after your best friend jay made you share an apartment with jake – “the guy you don’t like” –, you have to decide whether you should or not give into the feelings he makes you experience, something possibly pleasant and definitely memorable.
genre: "enemies" (reader is in denial) to lovers, accidental roommates, summer love, also has a bit of angst
warnings: swear words but other than that, none really (i suggest you read the prequel otherwise this will make little to no sense)
wc: 1317 | playlist: 56 days.
a/n: i decided to post this first, the second part will be the final part ♡ | taglist: @manuosorioh
as you tried to recover from your first college party experience, your brain did what it always does when your peace is threatened: refused to accept whatever happened, as a coping mechanism. it was not like it would work though, since jay didn’t seem like he would let you hear the end of it any soon. you pretty much denied any possibility of understanding between you and jake and did your best to pretend you didn’t even acknowledge his existence – which you did, very much so.
after those special seven minutes in paradise that felt like total hell to recall, you haven’t had any other friendly interactions with jake, always avoiding him with all you had. if you happened to meet, you were always quite cold and sometimes even a bit rude. all things that didn’t faze the boy whatsoever, who kept on getting on your nerves and even risked poorly made plans with jay so that you two would be alone again.
turns out that jay took it to another level and planned out – and very well – a long-term blind date, so to speak. at some point of the semester, jay mentioned a colleague moving out of the apartment he was living in and complained about how hard it would be to get someone else to live with him and share expenses. you, in an act of kindness, offered yourself to move in so you two could pay the bills together. he didn’t think twice before accepting it and, when the time came, in less than two weeks of organizing and moving out of your old place you were moving in with the man you call best friend since elementary school.
you were carrying the last item to your new apartment and everything was perfectly fine, until you came across jake lying on the couch, completely sweaty and untying the laces of his work out shoes, looking very fucking comfortable – almost like he was in his own home, you would dare say. you were in complete shock and a bit disoriented, for a moment you wondered how he was still attractive even though he was so clearly tired, but you soon ignored that thought to try and understand what the hell he was doing there in the first place. because you remembered very well having agreed with jay that you wouldn’t need help moving, there were few things you owned anyway. caught in the possibilities of what could be actually happening, you only realized that you had been standing at the entrance to the living room for a few awkward seconds, holding a box destined for your room, when jay lightly nudged your shoulder.
“what are you doing, standing there?” he asked, grimacing as if he wanted to make fun of you, but opted for a friendly approach.
“what... is he doing here?” it was your turn to ask, pointing – as best as you could while still holding the box in your arms – to jake, who was now paying attention to the two of you and, upon hearing the words that left your mouth, couldn’t help but let a smile form on his face.
“hello to you too, princess,” he said and before you could retort, he kept going, “i thought you’d have more manners with your roommate, but i guess i can’t be optimistic when it comes to you.” his eyebrows wiggle suggestively, his smile widening slightly and his tongue peeked between his teeth only adding to the image of perversion you had of him. because it wouldn’t be possible to associate him to anything other than obscenity, especially with that cocky smile that never seemed to leave his face.
“excuse me?” you turned to talk to jay, but he was already on the other side of the room, going through the hallway that led to the bedrooms. “hey! jay, come back here. now.” you dropped the box on the floor, your arms crossed and your eyes burned holes into jay while waiting for him to come closer. “what does that mean? may i know?”
your best friend just laughed awkwardly and replied, “well... i thought you knew he lived here too.”
“how–” you stopped, sighed and straightened your posture. when you spoke again your voice was much more controlled, “how am i supposed to know if you never said that to me before?” your anger was still noticeable, but wrapped in a false cordiality that made jake strangle a laugh. this whole thing would be infinitely more fun than he initially thought.
after making everything clear – in the smallest details – with jay and for what seemed like an eternity of putting everything in its rightful place you finally went to your room, took a shower and got ready to sleep. the clean bed sheets that smelled of fabric softener and the fluffy duvet were a warm welcome after such a tiring day. you couldn’t control the thoughts that took you to a not-so-distant jake, who was now only separated from you by a room and, as you felt your eyes grow heavy and your body surrender to the much-needed sleep, you wondered what future reserved for the next few months you’ll be sharing your precious routine with the nuisance that was jake’s presence – ‘but at least i’ll have jay by side’, you thought right before falling asleep.
—☆—
“are you serious?” your voice comes out exasperated in an impulse that startled both you and jay, who was talking calmly to you while leaning on the kitchen counter – wearing his signature Seattle Mariners shirt, which you questioned if he’d ever stop wearing. it was currently 7am and you were having a rather upsetting talk with your best friend. it has been really nice to live with him, even though jake is together almost every time you two do something nice. but after a few days of it, jay seems ready to part ways. in an attempt to redeem your posture and sound a little calmer and more controlled, you say “are you going to travel?”
and, despite you being his best friend for years, jay doesn’t even try to comfort you like you think you deserve. “it’s only for a few days, i promise you won’t even notice,” he replies.
but you wouldn’t have that. “it’s not just a few days, jay, you’ll be gone for a month.” your whiny voice softens jay, who hugs you warmly. in the end, he knew you would miss him. “i had made so many plans for us, you know...”
and with that, jake decides to leave where he was in the living room, walking towards where you were sharing the hug. when he gets to you, he nudges your waist. “don’t worry, princess. i’ll do anything you had planned to do with jay.” his slightly husky voice due to it being early in the morning makes your face heat up along with your body, but you blame the intense sun that shines through the window. then, he winks at you and you wonder if being arrested for murder would be as bad as they say. why doesn’t he just give up?
“tell me you’re not going to leave me alone with this idiot for a whole month,” you say, pretending that jake wasn't even in the room and jay laughs, a laugh that almost makes you forget why you were angry in the first place, but once again he decides to destroy all your optimism. “how silly, girl. of course i'm not going to leave you alone with him for a whole month, i'm going to be away for the whole summer break.”
that’s enough for you to pull out of his embrace, facing jay with all the disgust you could muster, which meant very little – very little indeed.
and jake's voice is right there to further add to your stress, “it will be exactly 56 days with me, angel.”
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