#and suffered to the point where it was taking me the entire day to
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vaquerolvr · 3 days ago
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Road trip! Reader is Passenger Princess (due to them giving their man a heart attack everytime they drive 😊)
i am Still Suffering on my road trip. god save me. i wrote this in my notes app while stuck in traffic for three hours. the formatting and spelling are in the hands of Our Merciful Lord (tumblr)
price
refuses to let anyone else drive unless he’s on the verge of passing out
(probably the only one you can trust to drive tbh)
does the dad thing where he’ll stick out his hand to get some of your snacks
hates stopping for any reason, wants to get to the destination as quickly as possible
when he does get forced to take a break, he’s very upset about it
backseat driver, stresses everyone out
(gaz is tempted to tape his mouth shut)
claims he “isn’t tired” and “can keep going” but is the first one to pass out when you stop at a hotel
gaz
passenger princess
if you try to get him to drive he’ll pretend to be sleepy
in charge of the music
(not because everyone likes his music but because he fought soap for the right)
hogs the phone charger
calls shotgun and will fistfight anyone he tries to take it from him
(he’ll let you have it if you want but he’ll be pouty about it)
ghost
another passenger princess (because no one trusts his driving)
the single time he’s allowed to drive, he nearly causes an accident ten minutes in
weakest bladder known to man
forces you to stop every hour
passes out after the first hour of driving
soap wakes him up when his snoring gets too loud and it causes another bout of smacking each other
takes photos of anything cool he spots on the road
(they all come out blurry but it’s the thought that counts)
soap
the only other one that price trusts to drive
decent driver, just has road rage at times
begs gaz to let him change the music (gaz always says no)
points out the scenery constantly
“look, there’s cows!”
collects souvenirs from every gas station you stop at
plays road trip games (i spy, slug bug/punch buggy/whatever you call it)
he and ghost get in trouble when it devolves into them just hitting each other
has a stash of snacks and drinks that he’ll share if you ask nicely
is awake and yapping the entire drive
(gaz actually does tape his mouth shut)
alejandro
the exact opposite of price
likes to take his time and relax
will somehow turn a 10 hour drive into 15 hours
wants to stop at every roadside attraction he sees
you have to keep reminding him that you have somewhere to be or he’ll get lost on a side quest
souvenir guy, buys magnets and keychains
has cds that he likes to listen to
very chill but you might get stressed if you’re on a deadline
is insistent on being the driver but gets traumatized when he runs over a squirrel
“ale, it wasn’t your fault. it was dark, you couldn’t see-“
“I’M A MURDERER”
rudy
probably the best person to plan a road trip with
isn’t a maniac like price but isn’t as laidback as alejandro
likes to listen to random radio stations as he drives
is really bad about speeding
regularly goes at least 15-20 over the speed limit but is lucky enough to never get pulled over
uses road trips as an excuse to only eat junk food then regrets it when his stomach starts hurting
needs a day or two to recover afterwards because his back hurts from sitting for so long
graves
scarily organized
has an itinerary and follows it to the letter
wouldn’t let you drive even if you begged
if he gets tired he’ll just get one of the shadows to take over
honestly, most of the trip consists of the shadows entertaining you with their antics while graves drives
one of them gets left behind at a gas station and you have to drive back half an hour to pick him up. graves is pissed
makarov
do NOT try to take this man on a road trip
if you mention it, he’ll have plane tickets booked before you can even blink
cannot handle long drives, the most he can manage is an hour before he starts getting annoyed
keegan
the most stressful but also the most entertaining
demands control of the music but plays the weirdest shit
not the best driver but not the worst
he won’t crash at least and he’ll only get pulled over a few times
says the most out of pocket shit to get a reaction from you
“how long do you think i can drive with my eyes closed?”
“KEEGAN NO-“
keegan has been banished to the passenger’s seat.
nikolai
another guy who is good at road trips
great driver, you can sleep the whole ride and he won’t gaf
it’s kind of terrifying. you’ll wake up from another nap to find him staring dead-eyed at the road as he drives
secretly shoplifts something from every place you stop at
doesn’t admit it until you accidentally find his stash hidden in one of the bags
“solnishko, you must understand. i need it.”
“you do not need a keychain of a frog with a cowboy hat, nik!”
nikolai is now wanted for theft in every US state (and several countries)
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milfbrainrot · 2 days ago
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it is just equal parts validating and infuriating that I've apparently always been right about certain aspects of mental health but resigned myself to the opinions of professionals who disagreed when... no lol I was right! And it's at least nice to know I'm right to advocate for myself in the future too bc I'm not making things up lol
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twilit-tragedy · 1 year ago
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god fucking damn my life, bro. I find a couple of ants in my room and immediately freak out. I start feeling shit crawling on me and turn on a flashlight to go look for some hidden source, already hyperventilating. And then I remember I woke up late and didn't take my morning meds. Girl, we have a balcony and my mom keeps plants there. Calm the fuck down. You like having the window open. It's FINE. It's just ants.
Last weekend I skipped my morning meds two days in a row cuz I woke up late and I feared sertraline insomnia - which, yes, in hindsight was a bad idea - and on Sunday I had a full meltdown. Granted, also period-related, but god fucking damn it. I tore my whole room apart. I couldn't vacuum under my bed easily because of my desk's placement so I decided I was going to move furniture around and reorganize my room. On a Sunday afternoon, in the summer and with tendonitis. All cuz I saw some ants and couldn't verify with my own two eyes every corner of the room. And because I couldn't physically move the wardrobe and bookcase, I guess I took out my anxiety with the remaining furniture. And god fucking damn it, here I am again a week later.
I keep finding ants (3) running on my desk all of a sudden while I'm SITTING THERE and have no idea ("no idea") where they're coming from (engage the phone flashlight routine). I moved this bitch AWAY from the window and they're fucking HUNTING me or smth (it's 35ÂșC out, girl). I hate my life. And I hate that any suggestion of bugs makes me start feeling shit on my skin that isn't there. Dumb fucking brain. Anyway I need sleep and to take my sertraline asap or else.
#i can't express to you how badly I was doing last week#my mom wasn't home when I was remodeling but I was fantasizing about screaming:#''take those plants out of my side of the veranda or i'll throw them OR myself off the balcony''#i'm not suicidal don't worry it would be for the drama of the ultimatum#and then I took my meds the next day and I was calmer lol#but this has happened before. i believe this entire formication / almost delusional parasitosis started cuz i'm allergic to mosquitoes#and as a kid who lived with 3 grown people and had no power over them to close their damn windows - I attracted all the bugs#and I couldn't sleep and I heard and felt them near me and it was a horrible time#still at 23 i can only either pass out from exhaustion or more often find and kill them before I can sleep#when I was 14 or smth our cat also got fleas and I spent the most paranoids nights of my life suffering cuz they got into my bed#last year I slept over at a friend's house for a night and brought back what must've been a SINGLE flea#I'm not kidding you when I say I quarantined my room and slept in the living room for over a month. i was panicking#(i've since started anxiety meds)#I legit feared we had bedbugs and was looking at every single outlet and corner of my bed#our cat recently caught fleas and I combed through him to pick them out every day. that experience actually calmed me down about them#but it's when you can't see them / where they're hiding that's the problem#(it also taught me to let my cat in my room and then fleas become his problem LMAO)#(cuz his long fur 24/7 is way better than my legs for 8h I've been told lol)#anyway point is I get freaky when I suspect bugs are hiding somewhere#and that they're gonna bite me and I'm going to get super itchy and not be able to sleep#i start feeling shit on my skin and yes i know that's not normal. and I have to look at it to convince my brain to ignore it#i get jumpscared by my HAIR falling on my arms girl. that's embarrassing#what i'm ANGRY about is that this is about ANTS. who want NOTHING to do with me and every to do with idk leaves and crumbs#and I KNOW they're from the veranda. but nooooo someone is dumb and skipped her meds and now she's withdrawing and freaking out. about ANTS#EMBARRASSING.#as i'm typing this i'm scratching at myself for what is most likely 1) nothing 2) my hair or 3) cat fur#i'd bring this up to my therapist but he abandoned me </3 like they all do </3 i'm gonna develop abandonment issues at this rate LMAO#so uh anyway imma finish what I was doing (lie) and go to sleep (eventually) and take my meds#and hopefully remember to mention the formication to a health professional at some point lol#i just needed to write this down as evidence of how i'm feeling rn so tomorrow I can read this and say ''wow that was silly'' mkay? kay
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years ago
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...
#*problems occur on a project multiple ppl r working on* my boss @ me: what do u wanna do?#me. disastrously burnt out: i couldnt not even to give a fuck abt all this. i dont care i dont care i dont care#but thats not what i say. i say ok ill talk to the ppl and see how i can drop everything to help. and that probably means driving an hour#away to the other uni which is irrationally terrifying to me to the point where it will probably destroy my whole week a prevent me from#sleeping when i already am struggling to sleep. but its fine. ill get it done and itll be fine. for this stupid fucking project i dont#care abt. ay its so weird. ive never been this angry abt things. i mean its not even really anger its more dispair and frustration but it#manifests as just wanting to scream and throw a fit like a toddler. and i mean its my fault. i dont have to live the way that i do. i mean#i do but in an irrational compulsive way that i cant entirely control. but like its Saturday and i sepent 6 and a half hours taking#measurements and then met with my boss for like an hour and she was showing me cool imagines and talking abt cool new collaborators at her#new school and im just sitting there trying to maintain a smile bc my brain is semi disconnected from my body and im so exhausted#ugh. my brain is so fucked rn. i dont want to drive with even lower functioning thsn usual. and i was gonna meet my friend Tuesday morning#for once. and i might have to drive back and forth multiple days. ans what's my reward if were successful? two fucking weeks of watering#and measurement taking and i might have to stand around other ppl in all that time as well. usually im off spinning in circles by myself#amd looking unapproachable. i dont want to have to b a person around the undergrads#god im so weird. its like from the outside perspective if u were looking thru the window at me u would see me using a hammer and assume im#putting something together and i am but im also hammering nails thru my hand which no one asked me to do#so then why do i have to do it? ugh. thats y its a hard thing to complain abt bc ppl r like oh it sounds like ur compulsive habbits make u#productive and successful and yea sure but they're also destroying my life. im laying on the floor doubled over in pain and ppl r like oh#look how useful u r. who gives a fuck everything feels stretched and distorted like im suffering some sort of selfimposed Devin punishment#whatever. fuck this. tomorrow ill try my hardest to relax. literally i cant remember the last time i stayed in bed until at least 7am. ugh#but i also have some bullshit i have to get done tomorrow so well see#uuuuuugh let me leave this place @ schools send me ur official offers pls i wanna plan out my life for the next 5yrs#unrelated
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mohammad2 · 4 months ago
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Just 326€ more to hit 1500€ and achieve the first milestone towards rebuilding my life. Your contribution makes a huge difference. 💗💗💗
Help a Gazan English Teacher Attend Sheffield University/UK and Regain his Stolen Life. 🙏
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Hello dear compassionate souls,
This is Mohammad, an English teacher form Gaza.
On Thursday, October 5th 2023, two day prior to the crushing war, I got up from my comfortable bed at 6 a.m., brushed my teeth, took a shower, dressed my ironed suit, had my coffee in peace and headed to Al-Azhar University where I worked.
It was not until two days later that this beautiful & simple life would become a far-fetched dream.  On October 9th, I found myself displaced tens of kilometers away form home, lost my job and even my neat clothes and my entire life revolved around securing the most basic necessities for survival. My dream became a pile of wood and a bag of flour. At some point, I genuinely forgot who I really once was.
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The war went on and on and it’s just three days away from its first anniversary by the time I am writing my story. Throughout this year, I witnessed all sorts of suffering and humiliation from the loss of my home and university to the grief of losing many beloved ones. I have experienced countless displacements, chaotic food lines filled with the hungry, deprivation of essential supplies, and the horror of witnessing some of history’s most harrowing scenes.
This genocide took a full year away from my life so far and replaced it with death and humiliation. As far as academics are concerned, the war destroyed all our universities and schools taking away all my dreams of restoring my progress. Despite all that, I was determined to regain my stolen life and start over again. I applied for the university of Sheffield and obtained an unconditional offer letter to continue my studies in the field of TESOL, Teaching English to Student of Other Languages.
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I am reaching out to you to join in my fight to regain my progress and get back on my feet. My TESOL program at Sheffield is a one-year MEd that costs 24.950â‚€. any donation no matter how small gets me a step closer to a better life.
Much love,
Mohammad
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https://gofund.me/8206e0fb
tag list: @butchniqabi @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @biconicfinn @bryoria @shesnake @strangeauthor
@explosionshark @ree-duh @neptunerings @dizzymoods
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somnoir · 16 days ago
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Bats and Phantoms - Part 5
Part 4 | Masterpost
Jason and Phantom
Danny has noticed a pattern ever since he punched the Joker to death.
He's lost multiple things over the course of the past few weeks. Once, his laptop was smashed to bits during an attack by Bane (he really should have Tucker reinforce all his electronics). The next day, there was a new Wayne tech laptop on his counter.
When he visited his favorite cafe, his usual orders were paid for the next month. The barista refused to tell him who bought his month's supply of Living Dead. She was smiling a little too much in his opinion (he'd have to ask Tucker for a background check on Chelsea now. He liked her, but damn him if she was working with the crime lord.)
Danny knows very well that Gothamites either mug people or get mugged. And yet for the entire time, he hasn't gone through that BS... At all. It's almost nice.
He's done his best not to get caught up with the Bats, except for the fucking Red Hood. He tries to stay low, knowing that the Bats—especially Batman—was very strict on his no-kill-rule. Red Hood in the other hand... Unfortunately, he can't escape the bastard if all he wants to do is follow Danny around and gift him the most random shit. But if he's gonna deal with the Red Hood, then he's going to use it for good.
In other words, he was going to let the man feed him with godly food that he'd never been able to have. Danny's a decent cook but the Red Hood was almost godly when it came to cooking.
"You're never gonna leave me alone?" Danny doesn't even turn away from his laptop once he hears Red Hood slip into his apartment, shamelessly crawling through his window. He's so fucking sure there's a bunch of containers in his arms or maybe a reusable bag, but there's a bunch of containers. Filled with food.
"Someone's gotta keep you fed." Red Hood softly hums, passing Danny from where he was sitting on his floor while his dry eyes were watching instruction videos. By this point, Hood might be playing Tetris in his fridge with the containers. (Danny hopes there's chicken in there)
He doesn't move, doesn't want to.
Red Hood pokes his cheek.
Danny grunts in reply.
His cheek is poked again.
He might just bite the guy's hand off.
"Go away."
"Eat and then sleep."
"Perish."
"C'mon now, darling. You gotta take a break or whatever the hell you're studying for will go away."
"I will stab you."
But apparently, Red Hood isn't intimidated by his threats, already picking out one of the containers, heating it up, and then proceeding to make Danny suffer from the scent of something chicken. He's so hungry, he's sleepy, but he has exams! He has deadlines! A part of him wanted this handsome and sexy crime lord to pamper him but he'd drown in that contaminated ecto (Lazarus) than admit it.
And then his laptop is confiscated by a crime lord. Danny suddenly finds himself sitting on the Red Hood's lap and being forced to eat. At least the man isn't feeding Danny himself.
He was just enjoying the chicken casserole, sleepily trying not to stab a fork into his mouth while Red Hood has his hands on Danny's waist, caressing and cooing at him to keep eating.
The next day, he wakes up in his bed, tucked in, and the scent of freshly made coffee from his kitchen.
(God, his siblings are going to make fun of him for this)
Jason likes Danny. He'd actually tell himself that he legitimately adores the tired and unhinged college student. He wants that crazy little shit like he's gonna blow up the world if he doesn't. Because he wasn't just Joker's killer. Danny Fenton unknowingly became Jason Todd's avenger, the one person to actually avenge the second Robin. And he's just...
The infatuation would have been almost selfish, if not for the fact that Jason grew to actually fall for Danny after making sure the young man was okay. He's done his best to keep Danny away from the Bats. He didn't need Batman fucking this up for him.
Danny was so... strange. In a good and endearing way. He was dedicated to his studies, and tried to live his life but helped when he could. He's seen Danny stop by crime alley a couple of times just to help feed the kids, just to hand over blankets and what seemed to be his old clothes that nobody would be wearing. He was kind, and brutal if he wanted to be. Aside from the Joker, Jason had witnessed Danny almost drown a man for trying to kidnap a meta child in the same alley. The bastard was left for dead but survived when someone dragged him out.
Oh, Jason was in love. Horrifically so.
Honestly, he was kinda screwed at this point.
He's pretty happy that he doesn't share a class with Danny. If he did, he might not be able to focus on the lecture knowing that the very thing that calms the pits inside him was so close. The possibility of getting lulled into sleep was pretty high. But their schedules didn't even align and he barely saw Danny on campus. But he'd be lying if he wasn't trying to catch a small glimpse of him.
It's one of those days that he doesn't try looking for Danny when he's got some papers for Lit. But this was different.
Riddler is a maniac, even when he tries to be harmless. Anyone who failed to solve his riddles sometimes got blown up. Gotham U ends up becoming one of his targets. Jason just so happens to be there, waiting, watching, unable to operate out of his suit. The Waynes were not the Bats. They tried not to be to keep their identities face.
He needed to keep everyone away. He needed to keep them safe, even as Jason Todd. Fuck.
Riddles. Riddler liked his riddles, plagued the city with them. Barbara's voice is in his ears immediately, reciting Riddlers gods damned questions.
"I hold dreams cast by the desperate and bold,
My heart is silver, my whispers cold.
I’ve seen generations, yet I do not age,
A quiet witness to joy, love, and rage.
Though rooted in stone, I endlessly flow,
Reflecting the sky and the world below.
Look beneath where wishes sleep,
There lies a secret, dark and deep.
What am I?" Babs' voice is shaky, just a bit before she's hardened steel in seconds.
Jason cursed under his breath, trying to figure out the riddle. They weren't stupid. They've done this before and Nygma's Riddles were hard just for them, especially Tim and Bruce. But even so, Jason was raised by Batman. He could do this.
The words were complex, the poetic nature was irksome. But Jason took just a couple more minutes before he's identifying the answer.
"A fucking fountain. Gotham U has three of those." Jason responds immediately, sucking in a deep breath as he quickly evacuates his classmates and urges them out the building. "East, north, and south."
"Red Robin and Orphan en route to the south fountain. Robin and Nightwing to the east." Oracle quickly says, "Batman to north. Signal and Spoiler are evacuating everyone from the building. Hood, get out of there—now!"
No can do, Babs, he thinks to himself and goes running to the northern part of the campus. Batman can't do shit alone, even if he insists on it. They've learned not to let him.
He arrives before Batman, already rummaging through the fountain for the fucking bomb. If it was beneath the fountain then he'd have to destroy it, but if it was already attached to the water? Shit.
One second later, he's trying to find anything to destroy the cement, and then another passed. Jason is staring at a strange young man, white hair, green eyes—it reminds him of the descriptions of Wraith and Specter that Damian and Dick repeated. He blinks, meeting eyes with the maybe Ghost Hero. He flinched, looking into glowing Lazarus—a purer hue—eyes. "The bombs under the fountain?"
"Uh... Yes!"
The ghost nodded, phasing his hands through the fountain and a second later, he's dragging out a bomb. Fuck, it only had ten seconds to spare. Both of them stared at it, wide eyed as they panic on what to do. But the stranger doesn't seem to pay too much attention and proceeds to swallow the bomb.
"WHAT THE FUCK—"
An explosion—muffled and small—boomed through the courtyard and Jason stared at the smoke and flames covering the ghosts head. A coughing fit is heard through the smoke and the stranger is waving it away, whining about the horrible taste of burnt food.
Lazarus eyes look back at him, blinking before offering Jason a radiant smile. "Sorry about that! I'm Phantom, by the way. Was just passing by when I heard about the bomb." He offers Jason a hand, still smiling.
"Oh, uhm... Any relations to Specter?" Jason immediately asks, trying not to die from his own stupidity. Way to go Jay, immediately interrogating another guy that makes the pits all mushy and warm.
Fuck, fuck fuck. Was he going to fall for everyone that calms the pits? Fuck, he didn't want to cheat on Danny (Jayyoudelusionalidiotyou'renotevendating.)
Phantom tilts his head, before he's laughing loudly. "You've met my little sister?"
"No, but she saved my brother from a kidnapping."
"Is that so?" Phantom smiled, clearly amused. "Well then, I must bid you adieu. I can see that your city's knight has this all handled."
Just then, Batman drops just behind Jason. DAMNIT, B! GO AWAY!
Phantom just glances at Batman, amused before he takes Jason's hand and pressed a light kiss to it. Cold lips pressed against his hand and he's immediately blue screening. Fucking shit, this was the exact same scene he's read in those books about the heroine getting saved by the mysterious man who'd later on be her sexy enemy/lover. FUCK!
Phantom goes back to speak, but all Jason heard were a couple of trills and chirps, a language he couldn't understand but... It felt familiar.
"IÌ”Ì‘ÌÍÍœÌąÍÌčÌșÌŒÌœÌšÍ‰ÌłÍÌźÌ ÌŻÍ™Í…Ì€ÍˆÌ„Í”Ì°Ì€ ͔̎̎͒͒̔̎̑̀̑̀͝ÌȘÌ Ì—ÌĄÌ€Í‰Í™Í“Ì„ÍœÌș̗w̷̧̖͍̝̑̃̃̓̀̔̀̆̋͒͛̂ͅÌčÌ€ÌȘ̞̭͎̞͓̟ÌȘ̗̱͕͜iÌŽÍÌ‡Ì‚Ì‚Í›ÌżÍ€Í Í—ÌƒÍ‘Í Ì”Í˜Í‹Í„ÌÌœÌ•ÌżÍÍŠÍÌƒÌ„ÌżÌ„ÌŠÍÌ”Ì©Ì»Ì§Ì—ÌŹÌŠÍ‰ÌąÍœÍ…ÍŽÌźÌ Ì€ÌŹÌŞ̦͇̖̘͚̟̊ÌȘÌ ÌĄÌ ÌȘÌŁÌȘÌ–Í‡Ì€ÌŁÌĄÌ±ÌȘÌș̩̘̌lÌŽÌżÌ’Ì«Ì˜ÍÍ‰Ì§ÌžÌšÌÌ™ÌąÌčÌ˜ÌąÌœÍŽÌ©ÌŸÌ°ÌčÌšÌ™ÌŸÍ‰ÌłÌŻÌĄÌčÌ«ÌŒÍ‰ÌŹÌŻÌŒÌąÌȘ̖lÌžÌ‹Í›Í†Ì“ÌŁÌ±ÍœÌ«ÌŁÌȘÍ–Ì€Ì©ÌšÌ–ÌźÌ™ ÌŽÌÌ‘Í˜Í‚ÍÌ‡Ì†ÌÌ‹Í‚ÌˆÍÌšÍ‰Ì©Í‰Ì Ì–Ì–ÌšÌ«Ì ÌŹÌ„ÌźÌČ͙̜̱̊̊Ìș̠̫̫̀sÌ·Ì’ÌŽÌˆÍ‹Ì„Ì„Í›Ì‘Í„ÍÌŒÍÌÌÍ‹ÌƒÍ‘Í‘ÌˆÍ›Í‹Ì•ÍÌ‚Ì‚Ì›Ì‚ÌšÍ‚Í„ÌŒÌ„ÍŠÍ‚ÍÌ“Ì†ÌŽÍ‘Ì˜ÍŽÌŹÍ™Ì–ÌœÌžÌ§Ì—ÌŁÍÌČeÌ¶ÍŠÌ›ÌƒÌÍÍ Í›Í†Ì„Ì€ÍŠÌ„ÍƒÌ’ÌÌźÌłÌ§Ì­Ì˜ÌȘ̰͚̗̖ÌȘ̟̀eÌ¶ÌœÍŒÌÍÍ—ÌżÌ’ÌƒÌÌ†ÌœÍƒÍ‚Í—ÌœÌ›Í„Ì€ÌĄÌąÌžÌ–Ì§Ì€ÌČÌ±ÌŻÍ…Ì˜Í‡Ì–ÌšÌčÌąÍ–ÌšÌąÌ»Ì±ÌœÌŒÌč̠͙Ìș̞ ̜͚͔̔̊̕Ìč͚̱̝͜ÌȘÌ—Ìąy̛̜̟̔̉̉͋̑͂͛̆͆͂̃͋̀̎̆̑͊̃͛̐́̄̊͗̄͋̈́̕͝ÌČÌ˜ÌŸÌ­ÌŹÌ©Í‡Í–Ìźỏ̶̜̖̍̍̈́̓͊̍͑́̀̈̇̄̐͐̔͛͌̊̀́̈́̍͑͆͑͒̈́̅̌́̄̉́̇͐̒̈̍̀̎͝͠͠͝͝Ìč̭̱͇͔̊ÌČ̝̜ÌčÌčÌ—Ì—ÌźÌȘÌ—ÌŹÌ„ÌœÍÍ‰Ì»uÌŽÍŠÌŸÍ‚Ì“ÍƒÌ€Í†Ì‚ÌÍ€Ì…Í€Ì‰Ì‰ÍŠÍÍ„Ì…ÌŽÌÌ‡ÍÍ‹ÌœÌżÌ’Í ÍƒÍÌ•Ì„Í›ÍŠÌ„Ì‰ÌœÌÍ›Ì‹Ì“Í—ÌÍ˜ÌŽÌ†Ì’Ì›Ì•Ì„ÌąÍ•ÌŻÌ±Ì«Ì—Ì ÌȘ͓̻̜ÌȘÍ…ÌĄÌŁÌžÌŸÌ©ÍŽÌ—ÌœÌčÌŻÌźÌ±ÍŽÌłÌ–ÌčÍ™Ì–ÌŹÌ–Í•Ì™Í”ÌČ Ì·Í Í’Ì€Ì†ÍƒÍ„Í‘ÌšÌ‚ÌÌ‡ÍŒÍÌšÌ‘Í’Í ÌżÌÍ„Ì…Í‹ÌŽÌ„ÌŽÍ’ÍÌ’Í’Í Í„ÍŠÍ›ÌŠÌ°ÍˆnÌ·Ì…ÌŒÌ”ÌŒÍ›Ì…ÌÍ„Ì‹ÍŒÌ‚ÌšÍ‹ÌˆÌ‹ÌŽÍ„ÌˆÌŸÌŠÌŠÌšÍŒÌœÌżÌ‚ÌÍ†Í‚ÌŒÍÌ…ÍÌŒÌŠÌŸÍŽÍšÌčÌœÌœÌžÍ‡ÌąÌÌČÌŠÌ»Ì©Í–ÌąÌŠÌźȩ͔͔̩̭͈̔̉͐͗͆͆̉̐̂̀̄͑͑̄̈̒̀̈̀̀̎̊͘͜ÌȘÌŸÍ‰ÌŠÌšÌ§ÍšÌ˜ÍšÌ„Ì°Ì°Í“Í“Ì€Í‰Ì«ÌłÌœÌČÌČÌ–Ì˜ÌœÍ…ÌźÌ Í‰ÌȘÌ€Ì€ÌźÌŁÌ«ÌŒÍ“ÌŠÌŁÌ€Í–Ì˜Ìčx̶̟̝̘̟̜͎̀́̎̔͂͂͐̀̓̓̏̅̀̌̐̌̀̑̆̃̌͝͠ÌČÌȘÍŽÌ„Ì–Ì ÌŒtÌ”ÍÍÌÍ’Í†ÌŽÍ’ÌšïżœïżœÌŠÌŽÍÍ›Í‘Ì…ÌżÍ‚Í€ÌÌŽÍÍïżœïżœÌ‹Í›Í—Í—ÌÌ„Í’ÌŸÍ’Í†ÌÍ Ì€Í Ì€ÌœÍ‘ÍŒÍƒÍ—Í…Ì­Ì«Ì«Í‡ÌŸÌŁÍ“ÌČÌŠÌ©Í‰Í…ÌžÌžÌłÌŹÌžÌ˜Ì™ÍˆÍ“ÍˆÌșÌ±Í…ÌźÌ§ÌźÌ˜Ì Ì€ÌąÍ”ÍÌŒÌŒÌłÌłÌłÌŠÌŒÌŁÌŒÌč͍ Ì·Í‹ÍŒÌ”ÌÍÌ’ÌŸÌ“ÌˆÌ…ÌƒÌ‘ÌÌšÌšÍƒÌ‚ÌźÌÌœÌŸÌ ÌŠÌłÌŒÌÍœÌ­Í–Ì­ÍšÍŽÌŠÍ•ÌŠÌšÌ©Ì§Ìș͓Ìș͚͈ÌșÌĄÌ€tÌžÍŒÌŠÍ‹ÍÌÍÍŠÍÌ‘ÌˆÌœÌŽÌŽÌŸÌ•Í‚Ì›ÍÌ“Ì‰ÌšÍ†Í—ÌÌ‡ÌÍ‹ÌłÌŻÌ»Í™ÌŒÌłÌ€ÍŽÌŠÌ™ÌŸiÌ”Í‘ÌƒÍ‹Ì‡ÌŠÌšÍ„ÌÌˆÍÌ‰ÍÌ‘Í›Í Í„Í ÍŒÌ“ÌˆÌˆÍ€Ì–Ì ÌÌŹÌ ÌČ̞̩͖̌̊̚Ìș͎͖ÌșÍ‰Ì˜Í…ÍœÌŠÌœÌœÌŹÍ‡Ì Ì—Ì ÌŹÌ„Í•Ì­Ì™ÌœÌĄÌłÍ•ÌŻÍˆÍ”Ì«Ì€ÌÌČÌ«Ì„mÌžÍ—Í—Ì‰Í—Ì’Í„Ì‚Ì†ÌżÍ’ÌÍ†Í“ÌŠÌĄeÌ·Ì”Í˜Í€Í ÌŽÌ“Í˜Í˜ÍÌ™Í‡Ì«Í–Ì§ÌŁÍ™ÌÌŁÌŁÌ»Í•ÍˆÌĄÍÍŽÌŁÌč̟͓ÌČ,Ì¶ÌżÌżÌ†Ì‘Í—ÌŒÌˆÍ„Í›Í‹Í˜Ì‚Ì‘Ì†Ì•Ì„Í„Í‹ÌˆÍÌ‘ÌÌ†ÍÍ‚Í†Ì‚ÌŒÌÌ…ÍŠÌÌŒÍÍƒÌ–Í–Ì ÌČÌžÌźÌąÌ˜ÌźÌšÍ‰Ì©Í”Ì­ÌšÍ•Í…Ì»ÌÌ§Ì€Ì§ÍšÌ»Ì­Ì˜ÍˆÍ…ÌźÌ„Í‰ÍŽÌąÍ™ÌœÌ­ Ì·ÌŽÌ‹Ì•ÌÍÌÌ†ÌŸÌ‘ÌŸÍÍŒÌ”ÌÍ€ÌżÌ€ÍƒÌ‚Í’ÍÌ‘Ì‹ÍŠÌ’ÌˆÌŠÌŠÍšÌžÌ–Ì–Ì—RÌŽÌÍ‰ÌŸÌąÌ ÍÌČÌąÌ eÌ·ÍƒÌ‰ÍÍ„ÌˆÌ€Í‹Ì‚Ì‚Í„Ì†Í‘Ì›ÌÌ…ÍŒÌŒÌ‚Ì“ÌÌÍ’ÌˆÍ’Ì…ÍŠÍ€Ì‘Ì‚ÌżÌÌ‚ÌšÌ’Ì†Ì“Ì‚ÌÍ—ÌąÌÌ°ÌȘÌ Ì„ÌĄÌ ÌąÍ“ÍÌĄÍ”ÌĄÌ—ÍœÌ©ÌŻÌšÌšÌșÍ•ÌŹÌźÌłÍŽÌąÌ©ÍˆÌŒÍ•Í™ÌŻÌšÌŸÌŠÌșÌŁÌ Ìș͔dÌ¶ÌżÍ„Ì†Í›ÌÍ›Ì†Ì„Í›Í’Ì›ÌżÌˆÌŠÌ‰Í„Ì†ÌƒÌ’Í‹ÌÍÌœÌ’ÍÍ Ì€ÌƒÌ‘Ì‚Ì”Ì‹Í„ÌÌ€Í€ÌÌ…Ì„Ì‡Í‡Ì™Ì°Ìș͉͔̘̩̟͎̖̌ÌȘÌąÌ»Í–Ì„ÌłÌ ÌŁÌ–ÍŽÍˆÍ“ÌłÌŻÌ€ÌÇ͔̻̱̝̌ ÌŽÍ‹ÌŸÌÌ•ÌÌÌÍŒÌÍ Ì‹Í’ÌŸÌ„ÍœÌŸÌÌĄÌźÌŸÌ˜ÌĄÌŻÌșÌłÌ—ÍšÌźÌ­ÍÌ˜Ì°Ì­Í…Ìç͈͈̱͎̝͍̌̊ÌșÍŽÍ•ÌŒÌĄÌÌŒÌÌŠH̜͓̖̔̂͐̒̑̓͂̈́́̉̇̀́̌͂͑̀͜Ìș̭͕͉̖̝ÌČÌ–Ì™ÌŁÌłÍšÍ™ÍšÍ‡Ì§Ì™ÌŒÍ…Ì»Í–ÌșÌŒÍ…Í‰Í–ÌžÌ€ÌžÌÌ­ÌĄÌ§Ì§oÌ¶ÌŸÌ‚ÍŒÌ“Í—ÌƒÌšÍ€Í—Í„ÌłÌ Ì±Ì»Í‰ÌŠÌłÌšÍšÌœÌšÍ“Ì­ÌŻÌłÌ˜Í•ÍŽÌąÍÍ–ÌŸÍ–ÌčÌžÌ€Ì˜ÌŁÌ–Ì°Í“Ì™Ì©ÍÌ»Ì§Í–Ì˜ÍšÌ Í…Í•Ì—ÍÌźÍ™ÌŒÍÌȘÌ°õ̧̞͎̔ÌșÌ­ÌšÌŹÌĄÌŒÌ±ÌŸÌÍ”ÌąÌČÌ§ÌŁÍ–ÍÌ­ÌœÌŁÍ”Ì Ì—ÍÌŻÌĄÌŁÍ…ÌŹÌźÍšdÌžÌÍ„Ì„Ì‡Í‹Í„ÍÍ„ÌˆÌŽÌŽÌ€Ì‰ÌÌŽÌ•Ì”Ì‹Ì’Í’Ì”Ì’Ì‡ÍÌ€Í€ÍÍŒÌŠÌ‰Ì“ÍŒÌĄÌčÌ Ìč͍̝̜.ÌŽÌ’Ì€Í„Ì‘ÌˆÌÌ“ÍŠÌœÌ›Í„ÍŠÌ›Í—Í’ÍŒÌšÍŒÌÌŒÍÌ”ÍŒÌ›ÌÌÌ„ÍŠÍ’ÌœÌÌÌÍ†Ì…ÌÍ‹ÌÌżÍÌżÍÌÌˆÍÍ—ÌŠÌÌ”Ì«ÌčÍÍœÌŻÌŸÍ“Íœ"
(Later on, Danny gets one hell of a tongue lashing from his siblings for eating a fucking bomb. At least Red Hood comes to visit with some dessert to make the flavor of bomb go away.)
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satoruhour · 1 year ago
Note
geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt
OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD
a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers
wc: 2.9k
warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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geto was a sweet roommate.
he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.
even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.
it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.
the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,
“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”
shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”
gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.
“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”
suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.
today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.
“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want
” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.
there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.
“(y/n)? love? you okay?”
“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”
“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”
geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.
“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”
geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.
“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.
geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.
what would it be like to actually wear it?
the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.
peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.
“oh god
” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.
you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.
you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?
the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”
setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.
“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.
your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.
oh, shit.
and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.
fuck, did i say that out loud?
you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.
“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.
“yea— yeah
”
geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.
suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that
”
your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.
“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”
your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.
“yeah?”
you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.
“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.
“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty
” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.
“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.
geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.
“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.
“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.
“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.
you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”
“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”
you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”
your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”
he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.
geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.
“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 
“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.
“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.
“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”
you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.
once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”
you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.
he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.
you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—
as his roommate and maybe now, something more.
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part two ♡
12K notes · View notes
xshadowdelta · 1 month ago
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FORMER MANAGER
PART 4: Like a tulip.
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Kazuha x Male Reader (4K length)
Your hands were gripping the steering wheel of the car tightly, you were still in disbelief at everything that was happening, as if some divinity up there was playing with you for fun, and its enjoyment involved seeing you suffer every fucking moment of the day.
The red light of the traffic light forced you to brake and stop the car for a few seconds. You looked out of the corner of your eye towards the passenger seat, there she was, sitting looking out the window while the fingers of her hands played between them, showing a clear sign of nervousness. Kazuha Nakamura had become, without foreseeing it, the biggest headache of your entire life.
It's not that you had gotten used to sexual encounters with your former Iz*One members, but after what had happened in the last few days, you wouldn't have been surprised if a few more had arisen or even were going to arise in the future, since they seemed to be competing for you or something, something you hadn't been able to figure out yet.
But this totally escaped logic and compromised you enormously, you had in your car an idol whom you had never had under your tutelage, whom you did not know at all, and who had made you an irrational request, to say the least. 
“Can you have sex with me the same way you have sex with Chaewon unnie?”
That phrase kept echoing inside your head. Despite your attempt to hide that 'professional opinion' session, it seemed that Kazuha had perfectly realized what you had done in that practice room.
You didn't even have time to make an excuse or a lie, you had been hunted in such an obvious way that denying it would only complicate this situation even more.
Before you could realize it and without even having accepted her request, you were already leaving the Hybe compound, but with more company than the one you entered with, thanking the gods that your company vehicle had completely opaque window glass.
Neither of you had spoken a single word during the journey, which made the atmosphere feel even more tense and heavier than it would normally be. You wanted to start a conversation or ask a question, but the words just wouldn't come out of your mouth.
“Turn right on that street.” She commented, pointing her finger in the right direction.
And this was another big problem: your destination place. You had really gotten into the car without a fixed direction in your mind. Should you take an idol to your house? Was that right? And what would happen if someone saw you on the street and treacherously took a photo? Could it be camouflaged as part of a television program? Was a hotel suitable? You didn't believe it, but if so, it must be one suitable for celebrities, something you couldn't afford.
You parked the car, following another signal from the girl, in one of the free spots and got out, going around it to reach the passenger door, doing a complete sweep of the area, and opening the door once there was not a single living being. in your range of vision.
Kazuha quickly left and, taking some keys out of her bag, opened the door of one of the buildings, giving you way and successfully completing the first checkpoint.
He called the elevator, and you both went up, still in pure silence. You looked at her through the elevator mirror automatically, she looked back at you through the mirror and blushed, she quickly looked away.
She left in terror when the elevator opened its doors again, yes, taking one of your hands, practically dragging you after her. Your nerves increased when you felt the softness of her hand, wasn't it crazy? Now you were behaving as if you were still a teenager going through puberty.
You entered the interior of one of the apartments, which looked large and spacious from the inside despite only seeing the hall for the moment. "Where are we?” You heard your own voice for the first time in a long time, wondering why she had brought you to that place.
“It's LE SSERAFIM's bedroom.” She answered, taking off her shoes.
Knowing where you were scared you to death, you were in unstable territory. Stepping into that apartment had to be the closest you're going to get to a war camp, with too many people who could come and go at any moment and catch you in the middle of the action.
“The rest of the members are very busy and won't come until the evening, and our staff doesn't usually barge in without warning.” It was certainly relaxing to know that, but still, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest at any moment. Kazuha unexpectedly took your hand again and dragged you down the main hallway of the apartment, passing by the living room and the kitchen until you entered one of the bedrooms.
The bedroom itself was quite simple, some large beds pushed together, a small desk with a chair decorated with clothes and various junk on top, and a closet built into the wall. You diverted your gaze to the corners and blind spots of the room in search of possible cameras, it wouldn't be the first time that after recording one of those home realities they forget to remove them.
The girl was quick to turn on the light in the room and close the window despite it being broad daylight, seeking to create a more intimate and safe environment.
You turned around, looking around at the entire bedroom, paying special attention to the pile of clothes scattered on the desk chair. She noticed this and, embarrassed, ran there to put all those clothes in the closet in a disorderly manner.
“Sorry, Chaewon unnie and I were a little late this morning.” Great, so this bedroom also belonged to Chaewon.
“Kazuha-ssi, I think you've rushed into all this, I... we shouldn't be here. I'm flattered, really, but I don't think you're aware of what this means."
She walked towards you and took your hands in hers, looking into your eyes with that look that begged you.
“I've wanted to do this for a long time, but I didn't know how. I'm too shy to approach some other random guy and propose this kind of thing out of the blue.” You laughed inside yourself, what she was saying had nothing to do with the spontaneous request she made to you. “I wanted to wait for the right moment and the right person.” Her fingers caressed the palms of your hands.
“I'm definitely not that person.” The expression on your face became more serious now. "You are!” She snapped loudly, making you step back in surprise. “I mean, I know Chaewon unnie very well. She wouldn't have done anything like that with you if she didn't have complete trust and deep respect for you, and that's more than enough for me.”
“But that's not how it should work, you shouldn't do this with some random guy you don't know at all like me, it should be with someone you love, someone you love from the bottom of your heart.” “You sound like the protagonist of a kdrama.” A small smile now graced her face. “Look, it's not that I'm a virgin, nor an expert, but I'm enough of an adult to know that I can have sex without commitment with whoever I want.”
The truth is that she was not wrong, perhaps you had seen too much fiction lately, after all, the vast majority of humans today had sexual relations guided more by vice and lust than by love.
You still had time to run out of there, you knew that she had nothing against you, she would never tell what she knew, and she loved Chaewon too much to harm her dear unnie. This was never about blackmail, just a favor, no one was forcing you to do anything.
That's what you told yourself internally over and over again.
‘This is not right.’
'Why don't my legs react?'
'I have to get out of here as soon as possible.'
'Fuck, she's beautiful.' Wait, what?
You stared at her for the first time in all this time, indeed, she was pretty and beautiful to look at, like a flower blooming in a beautiful meadow surrounded by huge green trees and a bright sun.
She was also attractive, you could see how well trained her body was. Her legs looked toned, and the lower part of her abdomen that did not cover her shirt was better worked than yours. She had an aura of tenderness and sensuality around her that was difficult to find.
Suddenly, in a burst of bravery, Kazuha raised her hands to your face, holding your cheeks to give you a small kiss on the lips. You wanted to resist, you really did, but who knows if, in order not to hurt her, you reciprocated that kiss by taking her waist with your hands.
“Everything you say is true, but also believe me when I say I want you to fuck me, oppa." She whispered against your lips.
"Kazuha, you're asking too much of me." Your lips were now moving unconsciously over hers.
"I don't think so." She chuckled, bringing one of her hands to your bulging crotch, gently caressing that area of your pants. She stood on her tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to your ear. "Don't you want to know how flexible I can be?” That whisper hit you squarely. It would have been a K.O. if we were in a boxing match. Your skin crawled just thinking and imagining certain scenarios, and the bulge in your crotch only grew under the touch of her delicate hand.
You let out a sigh, you sounded defeated, and you actually were. How could you be so fucking weak? Why were you trapped in a spiral of sex with gorgeous girls with beautiful bodies? And why were you martyring yourself for it when anyone would sign with their own blood to take your place? You didn't have the answer to any of those questions.
“Lie on the bed.” Despite your obvious annoyed tone, Kazuha's smile did not fade but rather widened, and she followed your instructions.
Immediately the Japanese idol was lying on her back, with her legs dangling from the edge of the bed, undoing the button on her jeans and slowly lowering them to your delight.
You knelt on the floor right in front of the bed, between her legs, starting to touch her thighs and going down her legs at the same time as her pants were going down.
You noticed how her skin stood on end under your hands, it burned, and you verified it with your own lips when you leaned your head over Kazuha's body, spreading a few kisses on the part of her abdomen that the shirt did not cover.
Her toned abs contracted as she felt your lips on them, your hands joined hers on either side of her legs, finishing off her pants in a single pull.
Your kisses marked a downward path towards the girl's panties while your hands took the opposite route, going from her legs to her hips, moving upwards slowly caressing every centimeter of skin.
A new piece of clothing was recognized as the next enemy, as your hands fisted the hem of her shirt. She understood quickly, and with an agile and quick movement, she slid the garment over her head and threw it away, landing somewhere on the floor of the room.
You kissed her pussy over the fabric of her panties making her moan, and then your tongue began to create lines of saliva before starting to move as if it were a normal cunnilingus.
Even though the panties continued to act as a barrier between your tongue and her pussy, the caresses you provided were felt on her body in a remarkable way, proof of this were the moans that Kazuha expelled from her mouth.
Her pussy was getting wetter due to the excitement, starting to leak down her thighs and even going through her panties, as your tongue began to enjoy the taste of the girl's intimacy.
You sat up a little and jumped on the bed, being careful with her delicate body so as not to hurt her, remaining on top of her, and going directly to kiss and lick her neck as an attack.
Her moans became noticeable again, with an increase in volume and much closer to your ears. However, she was a fighter, and although she seemed to be completely under your control, she managed to take off your shirt and expose your torso, which she did not hesitate to touch and caress.
You ceased the attack on her neck, moving back a little, allowing her to kiss your bare skin, causing you to sigh occasionally. You crouched over her again, kissing her lips deeply, taking her cheeks in your hands.
“Condoms?” You asked the instant the kiss broke.
She pointed out the nightstand next to the bed, and you jumped out of the bed again to approach the designated piece of furniture, opening it and finding a box of condoms still sealed.
You were opening it as you walked back, placing yourself in the starting position, facing her between her legs. You looked up and could see that there was no longer a trace of her panties.
You smiled, finally opening the package of condoms, taking one between your fingers, and placing it on the mattress. You needed both hands free to finish undressing completely. 
Kazuha sat up slightly on the bed so she could look directly at your now-naked cock, opening her mouth shocked by its size and almost reflexively opening her legs wider, giving you a much better view of her wet and shiny entrance.
You placed one knee on the bed, bringing your penis closer to her vagina, one hand holding your dick firmly and the other gripping one of the young girl's pale thighs.
"Wait! The condom
OH!” Her words were interrupted by a violent moan.
She was right, you hadn't put on the condom yet, but you didn't need it for the idea you had in mind, which consisted of rubbing the folds of her pussy with your cock over and over again without actually inserting it inside.
That game seemed to take its toll on Kazuha, who was now trying to silence her sounds by putting both hands over her mouth and allowing you to play with her intimate area to your pleasure.
Your penis soon became well lubricated after being rubbed mercilessly by the wetness of the Japanese pussy, at which point you decided that it was now possible to start the real action.
Now you wrapped your penis in the latex of the condom to bring it closer to the female entrance again, this time with the intention of entering her. You looked one last time into Kazuha's eyes, waiting for one last step back that never came, quite the opposite in fact.
She placed her hands on her thighs, separating her legs as much as she could, leaving you amazed at her incredible flexibility and increasing your excitement as you witnessed that move.
The tip of your penis made contact with her vagina, making you both moan slightly, moans that increased as more inches entered her cavity.
As you expected, Kazuha's insides felt tight, although you had to admit that it was less than you had originally imagined, because the truth is that most of your cock entered without any problem. You gave her a few seconds for her insides to adjust to your size before you started moving.
You started to move slowly, moving in and out slowly and careful not to hurt her, but she seemed to be enjoying it.
“God, you're stretching me so much... It feels so good.”
That gave you the green light to increase the pace, your hips moved faster, introducing you deeper into her. At this point, her pussy was already able to swallow the entire length of your penis without problems.
Kazuha's moans quickly turned into pleas, letting her get carried away by excitement and asking you to go even further.
“AH! Please
more
 AH
MORE!”
She raised one of her legs to your shoulder, leaving her foot at the height of your head, leaving the other still resting on the bed. That only deepened your attacks against her even more.
You wrapped your closest hand around the thigh of her leg that was hanging from you, and your other hand went behind her head, grabbing the back of her neck, bending over her, and moving at a hard and incessant pace.
Kazuha's intense moans were only stopped when your lips joined hers in a kiss, just as intense as the clash between your hips. Everything was so intense that tiredness immediately began to appear in you.
After a few more minutes of fun, you wanted to change positions, now lying on your back on the bed, motioning to the girl to sit on your lap with her back to you.
You kissed the back of her neck and her back as she got into position, turning her head for a moment and demanding another kiss on the lips that you didn't deny her.
She raised her body enough so that in one quick movement your cock entered deeply inside her again, causing a sensation of incredible pleasure in both of you.
The girl placed both hands on your thighs to begin jumping on your penis, again and again, without stopping and emitting sweet and erotic moans for each thrust that your cock gave her as it lowered her body.
You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her back, causing a small cry of surprise from her and causing her back to collide with your chest.
You once again had control of the situation, you once again imposed the rhythm of the penetrations to your liking and what was best for you.
From this position, you were once again able to attack Kazuha's neck at will, which for some reason had become one of your favorite regions of her body, and she seemed to love it too.
Your bodies were totally immersed in the heat of the moment, eager for each other's contact, roaring for sex, and sweating from the furious action, the temperature of the room had risen some degrees since you entered through the door.
Once again the idol raised her legs, surrounding them with her own arms, preventing them from falling, thus making your attacks clean and direct against her pussy, which you began to notice how it contracted, squeezing your cock against its walls, making you moan louder.
“Shit, Kazuha, your pussy...”
“Please don't stop now! I’m so close!”
Listening to the girl's request and with the aim of releasing yourselves sexually as soon as possible, you gave everything you had left, placing your hands on her butt and attacking her frantically, feeling how after some hard thrust you came brutally, filling the condom with your cum.
“AH! YES! OH GOD! AAAAAAAAAH!”
That liberating scream was followed by her body arching over yours, your hands quickly rising to her hips, pressing her against your body again, and leaving both of you gasping noticeably trying to recover from the intense orgasms.
Kazuha leaned her head back with her body resting on top of yours, trying to compose herself from the tremendous ecstasy you had made her feel. She turned her head to look into your eyes, just inches from your face.
“Now I can understand Chaewon unnie.” She murmured, offering you a soft smile, trying to hide her tired expression.
You, on the other hand, did not hide it at all, you continued searching for air almost desperately, and the fact of having her on top of you did not help, but the truth is that you were not going to complain about it.
“You are definitely very flexible.” You spoke, making her laugh softly, and then kissed her lips, passing your arms around her stomach area, surrounding and hugging her, lying there for a few minutes.
.
.
.
You left the group's apartment after making sure that Kazuha was in good condition. She said goodbye to you very happily, with her eyes giving off a special shine and giving you a small kiss on the cheek, making you both blush.
You drove back to your own house, a little rest wouldn't hurt to clarify all your ideas, but with a firm decision. You had to end your sexual encounters with idols immediately. That was obvious, but would you be able to cut it short? You assumed only the future would know for sure.
You entered your apartment, tired, extremely tired, but you still managed to find the energy to move your butt to the bathroom and get into the bathtub for a long half hour that left you almost as good as new.
You were now wearing your two-piece pajama with a shirt and pants, walking around the living room while drying your damp hair with a towel. You heard the sound of the doorbell, it seemed that the delivery man you had contacted had arrived to deliver your dinner. You put the towel aside, and with your hair still a little wet and messy that fell on your forehead, you approached the door.
You opened the door, but, to your surprise, the person on the other side was not who you expected. A young girl with black hair tied up in a bun, somewhat taller than average and with a slim but very elegant figure.
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That girl seemed very familiar to you, the fact that she was wearing sunglasses late at night made it a little more difficult for you to recognize her, but you quickly realized it.
“Wonyoung
”
The sudden sound of a slap echoed throughout the house, silencing you. Your left cheek turned a reddish color at the same time as a burning sensation began to sting. Your face was now looking to the side due to the unexpected slap that the young woman had given you.
You took a step back, trying to stabilize your body so as not to fall, and directed one of your hands to the affected area of your face. Your eyes were wide open, as was your mouth, you didn't know what was happening, unable to understand anything.
When you returned to this world, you looked towards the door again, finding yourself facing the wall of the hallway.
You ran out of your apartment, finding Wonyoung a few meters later walking towards the exit of the building.
"Hey! Jang Wonyoung! What the hell do you think..."
You grabbed her arm, applying some force, without excess, to make her turn towards you, but your words fell into the void when you glimpsed her red face and how some tears formed a path from her eyes, hidden behind those sunglasses until they ended up on her chin.
She didn't say anything, you could only hear her weak crying and sobs that penetrated your soul and stabbed directly into your heart.
Still confused, you loosened your grip on her arm, and with that she got rid of you, setting off on her way again, but this time you didn't follow her, you stayed there, absorbed, with no other possibility than to see her back moving further and further away.
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lailau7904 · 2 months ago
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So y'all have seen the Williams F1 Logo before, yeah?
well get ready, becaues I am about to ruin your day!
where does one even begin with this. i am sorry in advance. -just a poor learning graphic design student, who simply tried to enjoy their saturday evening
The Logo
For anyone that doesn't know, here's the Williams F1 Logo. Entirely unedited, copied straight from Wikipedia:
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Now like many fans, I actually quite enjoy this logo. I like the modern, sharp edges of it and it's simple yet intriguiging design. It's memorable, while also easily recognizable as a W. I also really enjoy the colour choice (this, however, is entirely a personal preference.)
(entire rant under the cut. please keep reading this took years off my life span.)
How did we even get here?
Let's start at the beginning. How did we even get here? Well I, a poor poor learning graphic designer, was watching this lovely video from Mr. V's Garage about bad F1 Logo's over the past 35 or so seasons. Very interesting, I can only recommend it (but you don't need to watch the video to understand this post)!
Now, to cleanse the palette at the end of the video, Mr. V included a top 10 GOOD logos from this time span, it was very kind of him.
On P4 of this "Good List," Mr. V placed the current Williams F1 Logo, as pictured above. At first I vaguely agreed with this, believing that he probably simply hadn't noticed one of the things that's been bothering me about that Logo since the first time I saw it up close.
The first sign of Trouble
So, what is this mystery issue, you might ask?
It's simple really. You don't necessarily notice it at a first glance, but something about that logo seems off. Taking a second longer, you may notice it yourself.
No, I mean it, take a minute and go look at the logo. It looks wonky as hell, doesn't it?
Well I can tell you the first thing that I personally noticed. The arms of the W aren't in line with the bottom half, see:
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(Graphic by @girlrussell who was so kind to let me use it, as it is way prettier than the one I made)
It's a crooked W. There is no good explanation for this. The rest of the font is perfectly fine, geometrical shapes.
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Anyway, the good person that I am I went to point this out to my partner ( @leftneb ) who proceeded to inform me that he, infact, was not aware about this and was, quote, "never going to unsee that."
Now, the good FRIEND that I am, I, of course, proceeded to rush into our broader F1 friendgroup to make them suffer for eternity.
What's the logical next step to take? Of course, fix the logo in Adobe Photoshop, you know, as a joke.
(Disclaimer at this point, I am not necessarily the biggest fan of Williams Management Team. I enjoy ALL their drivers this season. I do NOT enjoy James Vowels. Be warned.)(Also I am aware that he probably did not have an influence on the logo)
Trying to fix it. Oh god, I was so innocent back then
Trying to fix the logo in Photoshop is the worst mistake I could've made. THE worst path to take. I could've just giggled about making my friends suffer (which I succeeded in, by the way) and moved on. Instead I ruined a perfectly good Saturday evening, and for what? I don't know anymore.
Anyway, how was I gonna go about fixing the logo in the simplest way possible? Simplest way I could come up with: slap the thing in Photoshop and put two, mirrored boxes at each side to make the sides line up. Small issue, how do I make the thing actually even? Fix: line them up at the intersecting point with the bottom tips of the W.
Here's the result:
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Hey, anyone care to explain to me why in THE LORDS NAME the arms are different sized? I mean, surely they weren't before. Surely, certainly, I must've messed up.
I double, I tripple checked. I made sure everything was lined up and made sense. But no.
It just couldn't be. Something was uneven in this logo, something even deeper. Something I could not have predicted when first taking a closer look. It was at this point I realized I had messed up. What rabbit hole had I stumbled across? Certainly, it couldn't get much worse.
And that's when I noticed.
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(pictured above; my genuine reaction)
There's MORE? (oh god, the top isn't lined up)
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I couldn't believe my eyes. This is the PINNACLE of the sport, and THIS was the logo of one of the competing teams? I mean, yeah, we have a Visa Cash App RB or a Kick Sauber or even a MoneyGram Haas which are all terrible logos, but at least they're CLEAN. (this has not been checked. If anyone wishes to ruin a nice Saturday evening, feel free to check them and tell me how wrong I was in the previous statement!)
But you can see that there is no end in sight for this post. I'm sure you're as scared as I was at this point. By now we were sitting in VC, discussing the horribleness of this logo. I had long informed my irl's about this, who take said design classes with me. And it was one of them who pointed out the next thing that had been bothering me, but I had not been able to put a finger on up to this point.
thE DISTANCE, HOW DID THEY FUCK IT?
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I'm afraid I have to confirm your fears.
Yes, those lines are the same length. According to Photoshop, they're on the same level as well, so no flunking with angles.
The gaps of the arms to the main W are not the same. They're differently sized gaps.
It was clear to us, this logo is inherintely flawed. They're subtle issues, but once you pay attention you start to notice things. It all looks slightly wonky and off centre. And eventually, you get paranoid, and start comparing other angles and sizes. And you will keep finding things. This has ruined my life.
HOOOOOW
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Honestly, I don't even know what to say. Yes, yes sadly those lines, too, are the same length. Just copied over from one side to the other and layed over on the same height. I admit, they're not layed over perfectly. I was honestly holding back tears at this point. But the point still stands, you can clearly see a difference in width.
Honestly, the only way I can explain it is that at some point there was a mess up of distance or proportions and whoever was designing the logo couldn't pin it down and tried to restore the visual balance by making manual adjustments. And in all honesty? They kinda did a good job, if that's what's happened. I mean, you notice the crookedness of the arms, and then maybe the difference in height, but the rest you probably will not notice if you don't spend too much time staring at it. (like some of us) And even those issues clearly aren't noticeable to the vast majority, considering I had to go point it out to a group chat for my friends at least to notice.
what the fuck is THAT?
Now, the thing about doing this investigative work of prooving a team you dislike is worse in more aspects than you previously thought, is that you do a lot of zooming in. And zooming in means you might notice bits that yours eyes simply overlooked before, because they were too small.
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Here you can witness the top of the middle point, that, for whatever reason, really wants to touch the top border of the Logo. I'm relatively certain that's the highest few pixel in the entire graphic, considering earlier chapter "There's MORE?" I have no idea why it looks like that or why they thought it was necessary for it to not end in a clean point.
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I just actually have no idea how to even describe what is going on on the top of the left arm. That left hand side, again, touches the side and is therefore the most-left-pixel in the graphic. I, once again, have no idea the purpose of this. However the RIGHT hand side also makes no sense, as it is the most prominent corner in the whole logo. There's pointed corners, and rounded OF corners, but nothing that is trying to form it's own colony in a distant land that hopefully isn't this god awful logo. I hope that blob gets away. I really do. You go king.
i'm loosing my mind
Anyway, the only reason I could come UP with those weird "reachy-outy-bits" was to establish the dimensions of the logo? But if that was the case, I don't understand why they managed to keep all the other potentially border touching corners clean?
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Like, look. Those are clean, sharp corners with some clearance off the borders. I have no clue why they managed it here but not with the others.
guys. please.
Backtrackig a little bit, going back to the positioning of the arms.
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Do I need to mention that those lines are both the same length and the same (mirrored) angle? I really hope I don't, because I don't think I could be making this shit up. Like, once you roughly know what you need to look for it just kinda becomes easy to find.
As said before, I genuinely do think that most of these issues happened in a chain-reaction. For example, the distances between the main part and the W wouldn't be as noticeable (and they do get noticeable once you start looking at it) if the angle wasn't fucked. And guess what, there's more fucked angles here! Which ALSO influence this specific area of the logo!
this is just embarrasing for you.
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something something same line copied over and mirrored etc etc
It's not as visible but the angles defintely don't line up here as well. As mentioned before, these issues for the most part all influence each other. It doesn't really excuse the issues, in my opinion as a designer, because a big company like this shouldn't have these sort of issues in their logo.
So let's review;
to sum it up,
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i cannot even BEGIN to explain to you how big of a fucking JOKE this FUCKING logo is. because, i thought to myself, to round the post out, hey, why not show ALL the issues i pointed out in one picture? that would round it out quite nicely, wouldn't it?
Yeah well, this logo sent STRAIGHT FROM HELL just could NOT let me rest. I had only done the lines visualizing the crooked arms in PAINT up until this point, i.e. I had only pulled both up individually. To make a nice "rounding out" picture I still had to add them into PHOTOSHOP. so i did. i pulled up the line. i mirrored the line.
THE ANGLE IS FUCKING DIFFERENT
none. and i mean NONE of my friends had noticed this before. i need you to understand that we looked at this thing with FIVE pair of eyes, and NONE of us noticed that until i thought to myself "Oh I still need to add these specific lines to have ALL the issues I pointed out in my SILLY TUMBLR POST in ONE image" and i get THAT FUCKING SURPRISE
I was PLANNING to round the post out with a statement on how obviously this isn't a serious post. Here, I even had it all written out already because I accidentally started writing it in the last paragraph:
Of course, this is nitpicking, and it's not that serious. I'm aware of that. AS MENTIONED most of these would not be noticeable if we hadn't gone specifically looking for them.
yeah, well, fuck that. i just spent two hours seething about this logo. i'm ending the post on this instead.
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zoe-oneesama · 5 months ago
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How do you not suffer like soul-crushing burn out and exhaustion from making so much content so quickly? Like that seems like something that would degrade the quality of your work over time and basically incinerate a person. How do you avoid that?
For Scarlet Lady specifically, I didn't even start publishing pages until I had the entire "Origins" episode drawn, lined, and "colored". Back then, I was posting two pages a week, so that bought me about a month to work on the next part. I self-imposed a rule that I needed to draw at least one new page for every page that was posted, so I was never less than 7 pages ahead.
At one point, I changed how I was planning chapters - in "Origins - Part 1", "Origins - Part 2", "Stormy Weather", and "Bubbler" were all made using my old method of "write a page when you think of a joke" method. When I got to "Lady Wifi", I started planning the whole chapter start to finish with an overall plot and then making the script with jokes after the general episode was planned, which overall sped up my work.
Soon I was full episodes ahead of what was being posted. I was able to increase posting to three times a week and it wouldn't bite into my headway.
When I hit "Volpina", my favorite episode to work on, I had so much fun that I was finishing two pages a day. And then it happened again in "Dark Cupid". And again and again and before I knew it, I was like half a season ahead of what was being posted.
When I went through bouts of burnout, I had plenty of headway to take a break. I know mine isn't a perfect model to replicate for everyone, and there's certainly pitfalls (like canon adding something that changes a joke I made two months ago, or new lore dropping, or not being able to immediately implement reader feedback where it's warranted), but for burnout, it worked for me.
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velvet4510 · 9 months ago
Text
Here’s the thing.
Many Bagginshield shippers, especially in fics, focus on how Bilbo never got over Thorin, to the point where some describe Bilbo’s entire life as sad and empty and unfulfilled because of that loss.
Don’t get me wrong: I do agree that he suffered terrible loss and undeserved torment by the Ring. And the fact that he never married probably did have some connection to the memory of Thorin.
But, y’all, don’t forget or ignore the fact that, in Tolkien’s text, Bilbo does move on from grief and live the rest of his life well.
He does not become bitter from his pain. He retains his kind heart.
He is generous with his wealth, helping in every way he can the very community that ostracizes him.
He sees in Frodo a kindred spirit and takes it upon himself to be the parental figure that Frodo so badly needs as an orphan.
He and Frodo develop an uncle-nephew (really more like father-son) relationship built on trust, keeping no secrets from each other, to the level where he tells Frodo the truth about his encounter with Gollum. (And probably the truth about his feelings for Thorin, too.)
He and Frodo have so much fun, going for walks every day, studying the Elvish languages, and throwing big birthday parties to show the community a good time. It’s plain to see that caring for Frodo filled that massive void inside Bilbo, finally giving him someone to love and devote himself to looking after, after his first chance at that (albeit the first being a different kind of love) was taken from him.
He does not see himself as superior to the lower class despite his riches, and always treats the Gamgees with the utmost respect.
He teaches Sam to read and write.
He tells his story to the younger hobbits, inspiring more of them to want to learn more about the outside world and not be so sheltered and ignorant
an effort which ultimately saves Middle-earth because the Travelers learn from him to be curious and interested in the lands outside the Shire, and he inspires them daily, as they constantly say to themselves “if Bilbo could go there and back again despite great danger, so can we.”
He even learns to love having a tarnished reputation, ultimately taking advantage of being “mad” to play a fun prank.
When he is no longer at rest in the Shire, he gifts Frodo all his property which will ensure Frodo is set for life, and through all his passive aggressive gifts to his relatives, he gives the Gaffer genuinely useful items that he knows will help him, including ointment for creaky joints.
He gets a peaceful retirement among his Elven friends, which he spends writing his memoir so that future generations will know all about his lost friends.
And ultimately, he embraces the special gift of an exception from the Valar and rare permission to set foot in the Blessed Realm for one last adventure, where he will continue to look after his beloved nephew.
And the fact is, he never would’ve gotten any of these things if he’d stayed in Erebor. He would never have developed that special bond with Frodo - he may never have even met him - and consequently, Frodo may never have met Sam.
Yes, a lot of his life was lonely and somber. But much more of it, even after experiencing such a tragedy, was full of love and joy and fun and excitement. He became an invaluable caretaker and mentor to the next generation of hobbits, got a taste of fatherhood, passed on his expertise and his story, and spent his last years surrounded by friends and family.
Bilbo Baggins may have lost the love of his life, but he did not give up on life itself, and he lived a full one. Don’t forget that.
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praisethegabs · 9 months ago
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OLDER
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leon kennedy x reader
synopsis: he's getting older, and he knows that. not believing in luck or in love, leon finds himself in a position of complete misfortune. he convinced himself he's not worthy of love, but that changes when he meets you.
warnings: angst with fluff ending, age gap, leon is very insecure about his age and the reader. strangers to lovers, mentions of smut, ptsd, alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts. reader is very delicate, kind, and patient. there's parts from the vendetta book and a few scenes from re6. it starts with re6!leon and ends with di!leon
word count: 15k
a/n: guess who's back? to celebrate the 1 year re4r anniversary, I decided to post this one shot I was working for almost two months. I'm into my angst era again. also i wrote this based on this analysis i read, which made me think about the broken part of leon for a while, also this fic contains part of the vendetta book. feel free to leave comments, reblogs, tips, or positive critics. they're always very welcome ❀
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I. THE WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS
Life can be a bitch sometimes.
This is what he says to himself when he finishes another bottle of whiskey. Every day, when he opens his eyes, he tries to stay positive, hoping his day will be different from his usual schedule; in the end, it is always the same bullshit. Over and over again. No apparent ending; always his solitude. 
But someday it must end, right? He can’t be fighting B.O.W.'s for the rest of his life, can he? Maybe someday he’ll finally settle down and have a peaceful day. Maybe, on this day, his nightmares will stop, and if he’s lucky, he’ll sleep for the entire night. No one can blame him for dreaming of a perfect life, and no one can take this from him. 
The government made him their slave, their deadly pet that follows and obeys every rule and command, and forced him to risk his neck almost every week to keep their country safe. What a bunch of assholes, he thinks to himself. Thing is, Leon hates himself for what he was forced to become. 
There is so much pain. So much suffering. He only wanted to be a cop — nothing more than that. He wanted to deal with simple things — not bioterrorists ready to blow up the entire world, not grotesque mutations that defy the natural order of things. Certainly, if he had a choice to go back and change that night, he wouldn’t go to Raccoon City. He would've stayed in his cheap hotel room; he would have obeyed Marvin’s orders to not go in there. 
But now he’s something else. The rookie cop who had to survive that night died. He can’t even recognize himself anymore, and sometimes, he blames himself for it. No more than he blames the government for it; if he could go back
 
His days are filled with this emptiness — the sensation that he might never see his happy ending. Ada? Yeah, sure. He knows he can’t trust her, and God knows where she is or what she’s doing. He was so naive to fall for her like he did. While on his free day out of the office, he finds himself with a certain envy of happy couples. He can’t stop thinking: why can’t he have the same? Why can’t he be happy for once?
Getting older sucks. At this point, Leon thinks and has already convinced himself that he doesn’t belong to anyone and that he won’t be able to have someone. To experience love and being loved, he wants to be wanted. He’s getting older and still doesn't have anyone by his side. That’s the price he pays for having this life, and he still blames the government for taking it from him. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt something for someone, and at this moment of his life, it doesn’t matter to him anymore. Leon had already accepted the fact that he'd die alone. Maybe he’ll get a cat to keep him company. Since he’s not much of a dog person since Raccoon City, maybe he’ll name her a cute name; who knows? That’s probably the closest he’ll get to having something waiting for him at home. 
Leon doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt happy. Since Raccoon City, he doesn't know what happiness means, and sometimes, on very rare occasions, he envies people around him. He feels like his entire life has no purpose and no meaning, and he’s completely faded to emptiness, to a sad existence based on killing bioweapons and serving his country. Does he feel proud about it? No, he doesn’t. 
It’s been a very long time since Leon felt pride. That feeling died and is now buried in the remains of Raccoon City, inside that police station where his life turned upside down. Now he’s only an empty shell of what he used to be. He’s rotting inside, craving something he knows he can’t have, and there’s nothing but a void inside him, consuming every inch of him. 
After serving his country for years, he started to get used to the idea that maybe he wasn’t made for a happy ending, and he shouldn’t bother with such things. He can’t afford the luxury of being with someone, because it means being vulnerable, and it also means he would have to open himself to things he swore he would never feel again. No, thank you. 
Things at work aren’t exactly the best, either. Years ago, Leon started to question himself about whether the government cared about their people, especially the ones he had to kill in order to save others. Leon couldn’t forget what happened in Spain — the entire village he was forced to end so he wouldn’t die. Perhaps they could’ve saved them; possibly they could’ve had a chance; maybe if
 and this is where he dozes off thinking about the infinite possibilities. 
After what happened in Raccoon City, Leon knew he had lost faith. He knew things would never be the same after everything he saw that day. Sometimes, he finds himself thinking about Annette and William Birkin. He feels his body shivering when he remembers he had to fight for his life, clinging to something bigger than him. Survival. 
II. RINSE AND REPEAT
He has no social skills, and doesn't know how to interact with people anymore. It all feels weird and uncomfortable, and it makes him feel terrible. Sometimes he feels like he’s stuck in time and can’t have a proper conversation with someone normal. The worst part of his life is that he feels he’s carrying a weight on his shoulders that it wasn’t supposed to be his in the first place. He has the weight of the world with him, and there is no one to help him through it. Life made him depressed, cold and distant. Life has built him this way; he's shaped himself into something he’s not, and he can’t find himself. He’s lost. 
Leon can’t stop having nightmares about Raccoon City.
At this point, he just accepted that they wouldn't go away. It feels like he’s trapped inside his own mind, and there’s no turning back. Sometimes at night, he keeps looking at his ceiling imagining a different life, where he was a cop and happy. Usually, his nightmares are so dark and deep that when he wakes up, he finds solace in the sunlight, feeling relieved that he survived another night. When he doesn't sleep, when he’s too scared to close his eyes, he cries quietly, protected by the walls of his room, searching for assurance and a promise that everything will be fine. It doesn’t always work, but now he knows he can control his fears, and somehow, it helps him feel safe.
This time, his mission nearly got him killed. His entire body was full of bruises and wounds, and every part of him hurt. He felt his body swallowing a little, and he felt terrible again. He has blood under his nails, and he washes himself at least three times to make sure there’s nothing more on him than the burden of being a slave for the government.
Leon is paranoid; he can’t stand the fact that he has blood on his hands. If he sees a spot, he’ll clean it until there’s nothing left, and maybe he’s now too obsessed with the idea of being clean. It makes him feel sick to the bones, because he knows what he does and what it means. He knows that this guilt won’t be washed away like the blood on his hands, and certainly won’t get away from his head like it does from his clothes whenever he launders them. It’s a pretty shitty routine, but he’s used to it. 
Now he finds himself in a very dark place; he can’t eat without feeling guilty. He can’t do the basics of his chores because he can’t stop thinking about his life, regretting every decision he made. Everything he does seems mechanical, like he’s repeating the process over and over again, a perfect killing machine that has no one to care about. On Fridays, he finds himself sitting on his couch, in complete silence, holding an empty bottle. He knows he can’t drown himself in alcohol, no matter how much he wants it or how tempting it sounds, because the liquid doesn’t affect him anymore. It doesn't make the pain go away or silence the horrors he saw during his life. 
After three weeks inside his house, locked inside his room, Leon woke up with a strange feeling inside his chest. Something was telling him that this day would be different, like a big change would happen. For the first time in weeks, he decided to leave his place for a simple walk. He could do that; he could walk into the market and buy some real food or maybe get a haircut. He felt that he was able to allow himself to have an ordinary day. 
After taking a long shower, Leon decided to wear cozy and comfortable clothes. He was so used to his brutal routine that he almost forgot what it was like to have a normal day, but this time, he was willing to try something different. He took a deep breath before leaving his house, and when he felt the soft, cold breeze reaching his skin, he knew he could do that.
Step by step, Leon found himself walking towards the market, even enjoying the lovely view he had from his neighborhood. He doesn’t remember it to be so
 gray. Sure, he knows what winter is, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually stayed at his home during the winter. His lips turn into a small smirk, and he thinks how silly he is. When he reaches the small market, which is more of a store, he walks slowly, looking at what he might be buying - he’s done with frozen food. He stops at the veggie section and keeps looking at it, confused. 
“These aren’t fresh” a sweet voice is enough to wake him up from his trance. He looks in that direction, and all he sees is you.
“How can you tell that?” he asks you in visible confusion, which makes you smile. And that smile was enough to sparkle something oddly inside him. 
“Color, smell, texture,” you explained, still smiling and showing him a fresh vegetable. “This one is fresh."
"Thanks,” Leon replied awkwardly, taking the vegetable from your hand and placing it in his basket.
“You don’t come here very often. I know almost everyone who comes to buy food here,” you said next, glancing at him with curiosity. 
“I
 have a busy schedule,” he says, still sounding awkward.
“Really? Well, you should definitely take some time to buy healthy food. I’m pretty sure you do a lot of workouts to keep your body in shape” you giggle, noticing the size of his muscles, which makes his face turn red.
“I’ll keep that in mind” Leon managed to say, although he wanted to dissipate from Earth.
“I can help with that” you suddenly said, analyzing him more carefully.
“With what?” Leon frowned, already feeling his heart beating ten times faster.
“I noticed you’re having difficulty with your right arm, which makes me think you got it hurt. If you’re planning to buy more, I can help with your bags” you offered, very polite and kind, catching him by surprise. 
“Thanks” Leon says, finding himself smiling, which is unusual. 
At first, having some company after so much time alone made him think it was strange. He wasn’t feeling ready to have a small conversation, but you didn’t seem bothered. In fact, you were enjoying walking to this stranger's house in complete silence. Fifteen minutes later, you were in front of his house in an awkward silence between the two of you. 
“I guess this is it” you smiled at him, and Leon found himself lost in your smile. 
“Yeah. Thank you” he said for the fifth time, which made you giggle a little. 
“Anything for a customer” you said to him, giving him his bags. “My parents are the owners, so
”
“You don’t seem too old” he said, and after a second, he felt more weird. “I mean
”
“Nah, it’s ok. This isn’t the first time people say I'm younger than I look”. You smiled again, thinking that this old man was very silly and cute. “I’m 25, don’t worry”
“I’m Leon, by the way” He finally says his name to you, stretching his hand in a very educated way.
“Nice to meet you, Leon” you said before shaking his hand. 
Leon took at least three weeks to return to the market. 
His initial thoughts about you were that he definitely felt weird in your presence. Maybe he felt that way because of his lack of social skills and because he really sucks when the subject is social conversation. He caught himself thinking too hard about the visual and evident contrast between the two of you; you were young, bright and smart, with a great future ahead of you, and plus, you came from a loving family. Leon, on the other hand, was an orphan used and abused by the government, their pet and a man who only knew pain and brutality. 
However, you were the first friendly face he saw after years. The way you were smiling and giggling at his awkward answers, it definitely made him feel something he thought he would never feel again. It was like you found the rookie cop inside him, and despite the fact that he barely said something, he felt normal around you. And that was more than enough. How could it happen so fast? 
“How can I help you?” you said before noticing it was him. “Oh, hi” 
“Hi” Leon is welcomed by that smile of yours. “I
 um
”
“You came to buy more veggies?” you ask, still smiling at him. You think it’s cute to see him without any words. 
“No
 I just came because I’m looking for food seasoning” Leon said, his face slightly turning red. “I’m trying new recipes, so
” 
“Yeah? What have you been trying?” you ask with sudden enthusiasm, leading him to the part with seasonings. 
“Nothing too risky” he answers vaguely, following you closely.
“What kind of seasonings do you like?” You turn back to face him as you show him the shelves with different types of seasonings. 
“I’m more into spicy flavors” Leon tells you, his attention going to the shelves. 
“It suits you” you said, giving him some space. You saw him smiling again. 
"How does spicy seasoning suit me?” he asks with a hint of curiosity. 
“You might think I’m weird, but
 seeing from outside, you look like someone with a rough agenda and, apparently, whatever you do is dangerous. Personally, I think you suit perfectly spicy things” you said, hoping it would make sense. 
“I think I got your point,” Leon said, and then he found himself smiling for the second time. 
“Lucky me, right?” you laugh, walking back to the cashier. “Is this all for today?”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Leon nods, grabbing his wallet to pay for the seasonings. 
“How’s your arm?” you ask, taking his money and counting it. 
“It's better. I had to take a few painkillers, but it’s definitely better” he said, avoiding you for a few moments. 
“That’s great. I know a few herbs to help with the pain” you said, giving him the change from his purchase. 
“How so?” Leon asks with another hint of curiosity. 
“A great sorcerer doesn’t reveal her secrets” you wink playfully at him. “You need to earn that, soldier” 
“And how could I earn your secrets, great sorcerer?” Leon asks, enjoying your playful mood. 
“Maybe you can invite me for dinner and show me your cooking skills” you shake your shoulders and, for the second time, catching him by surprise. 
“You would love that, wouldn't you?” Leon said, and a slight smirk appeared on his lips. 
“Who knows?” You wink playfully at him, with another suggestive smile on your lips. 
The world has gone to hell, Leon thinks to himself. 
He starts to contemplate everything that has happened to him. When did this madness begin? It was back in Raccoon City? Oh, no. It is way older than that. Maybe his collapse started when his family died, and he was left an orphan; what happened in Raccoon City wasn’t really the beginning of his nightmare. It was the cherry on top of the torments that would become his life. 
Now that he’s coming back home from another mission, he can’t stop thinking how his life could’ve been if Umbrella had never happened. If those bioweapons were never created, defying every natural order. He looks outside his window, and he just can’t stop blaming himself for Tall Oaks. 
What has become of this world? Leon thinks. Where did I go wrong? 
His life is an entire mistake. It just goes on and on. His family first, then Raccoon City. Tricell, Los Illuminados, Uroboros and, finally, that nightmare at Tall Oaks. Leon takes a deep breath. He feels his hands shaking and closes his eyes, forcing himself to forget. How silly he is!
The future is a hell that’s only getting worse. 
III. THE PAIN OF REMEMBERING
You weren't expecting Leon to find the note with your number that you left on his seasonings, the same way you weren't expecting him to call you.
However, something about him got your attention the minute he stepped foot inside the store. He wasn't like anything you had seen before; he was definitely something else. 
After almost four weeks since the last time you saw him, you got a call from an unknown number. It was pretty late at night, but your curiosity won the battle within you, and you had to pick up the phone. With a groggy voice of sleep, you saw the number and frowned.
“Hello?” You ask, followed by a big yawning. It was one in the morning. 
“Hi
 um, it's Leon” he says with some urgency, to which you jump from your bed. “I'm sorry to wake you up” 
“No, don't worry. I wasn't sleeping” you lied, forcing yourself not to yawn again. 
“I know it's late, but
 I was thinking about that dinner
” he says, sounding somehow hopeful. “Maybe you could come later and
 talk?” 
“Yeah, sure. Can you pick me up?” You ask him, and a smile appears on your lips as you answer him. 
“Of course. At seven?” 
“At seven, it is,” you smiled again. 
As soon as the call ended, he was in complete shock. For some reason, Leon felt you wouldn’t accept his invitation, especially after being alone for so long. His heart was beating faster inside his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was just a casual date between
 two friends? Could you possibly be his friend? 
Leon felt anxious, something he only felt when he was on his missions. 
Suddenly, the mere thought of having you at his home with him sounded terrifying. He felt like it would end in a complete disaster, and you wouldn’t see him ever again. Then, Leon had to stop and calm himself down, knowing it was his trauma trying to get the best of him. After everything he went through in his life, being able to trust someone proved to be a difficult task. He felt scared, and his mind was racing with thousands of different thoughts, each worse than the other. 
Betrayal is the word that defines Leon. 
He was betrayed before and multiple times, which left him with a lot of insecurities and traumas to the point he feels that he can’t trust anyone, which led to another set of insecurities. Leon feels that he isn’t enough anymore, that he can’t provide the proper attention someone might need from him, and that he can’t be in a relationship because of his problems. The truth is, he can’t be in a relationship until he leaves his trauma behind, and he knows it. That’s the easy part, but the hard one is how to let it go. 
Later that day, Leon finally had the courage to clean his house. He needed some motivation to get rid of his depression, and nothing was better than finally allowing himself to have some company besides his solitude. His house smelled pretty good, everything was clean, and his furniture was even shining. He opened the curtains, and the sunlight entered his living room. He took a deep breath with the fresh air that came inside, and smiled, feeling somehow proud and happy. 
At seven, you were waiting outside the store, scrolling through your phone, when you saw Leon approaching on his motorcycle. You were gorgeous, wearing a beautiful dress and covered by a black leather jacket — the perfect contrast that suited you well. Leon was completely mesmerized by the sight of you - so beautiful, he thought. 
“Hey, there” you waved at him as he parked next to you. 
“Hi,” Leon replies, sounding embarrassed. “You look beautiful”
“You too, handsome” you said playfully, taking the helmet from his hand and sitting behind him, your hands holding him tight. You didn’t notice the small blush on his cheeks. 
"Are you okay back there?” Leon asks you, making sure you were fine before starting the engines. 
“Yeah, I’m fine” you said, nodding your head, and smiling when he started to drive his bike to his place. 
You two didn’t take long enough to reach his place. Leon offered you his hand so you had support to get out of his bike, and he even opened the front door for you. He led you inside his house, and everything inside was enough to show you the kind of man he was; his home was big, but simple. He had a lot of comfort there, but it seemed like he didn't spend much time at his place. You saw some photos at the fireplace, a few when he was younger, at some training camp with his possible friends. 
“How old were you when you took these?” you asked him with curiosity. 
“I was twenty-one” he said, grabbing the wine and the glasses. 
“So young” you whispered, noticing that in some pictures, he was sad. 
Leon took another deep breath. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t he be just normal for once? Why did everything have to happen to him? You were standing there, so gracefully, observing his old photographs, so young and full of life, with no baggage with you. Someone actually happy and alive. If you knew how much he envies this. 
“People say that our eyes are the windows to our soul” you turn to face him, noticing his sudden silence. “Yours are so sad and broken
 what happened to your neck?”
Instinctively, his hand reaches his neck, and Leon feels the bandage perfectly secured on his skin, with a small spot of blood. Gladly, it was enough to change the subject, because he was shocked enough by what you said about his broken soul. If you only knew. 
“I, um
 got hurt on my job. It’s nothing.” Leon tries to avoid speaking about his past. 
“It seems pretty bad” you step closer to him, your hand gently touching his bandage. 
“It’s nothing
 trust me” Leon smiles weakly, looking down. His heart is beating so fast inside his chest that he could explode any time. “I’m fine” 
“Then explain why you are so nervous around me” you whispered, now softly touching his cheek. 
Leon felt he stopped breathing, like his lungs decided to leave him alone and deal with the matter himself; how powerful your touch felt. It was enough to break every wall he built around himself for years; it was enough to make him break. And it was only a soft and kind touch. He slowly closed his eyes, his breath becoming normal again, and he allowed himself to just feel it. 
“I don’t know what on earth happened to you
” your voice is full of kindness as you speak, now seeing him hold your hand as you keep touching his cheek. “But I’m always here if you decide to talk” 
Leon was reaching his breaking point. 
He was used to being a slave, always using his body, mind and soul to provide safety for the others without them knowing one damn thing about it; he was used to always being alone, to the point that kindness was a strange feeling, almost not existing at all and that he didn’t deserve it. But here you are. 
“It hurts to remember,” he confessed, his voice a low whisper. “I tried to forget it, but I can’t” 
When he felt you wrapping your arms around his body and your warmth embracing him, Leon felt his eyes getting wet. He was so deeply touch starved, craving something so human, that when he got it, he knew he was going to break. His mind was racing, and his body was trying to process the feeling and react in the proper way. He felt so many emotions at once that he thought he was going insane. 
“Please, keep holding me” Leon begs, his arms finding their way through your back as he hugs you back. “Because I know I’ll fall if you let me go” 
After that night, it took almost two months until Leon decided to show up at the store to see you again. He felt nervous, but at this point, he realized that, for some reason, he couldn’t stay away from you; he felt that you had some type of magnetism enough to keep him close, which made him feel comfortable, something he hadn't felt in a while. 
However, before he went to the store to see you, he needed courage. Leon thought you would be upset with him after being ghosted for almost two months, although he felt responsible for it, since he never told you the nature of his job or why he was so absent. Sadly, Leon was again in a spiral of sadness and depression. His last mission was a disaster, and Leon knew he had no control over his feelings again. He was sitting on his bed, contemplating the bottle in his hands. The curtains were closed, and the atmosphere inside his room was darker. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and then, he’s there again. 
June 29, 2013. Tall Oaks, USA
“It might create more problems than it solves
” the voice of the president echoes inside his head as he points his gun towards the said person.
Leon doesn't recognize the man in front of him, or what he used to be. He keeps his gun raised, his grasp around the trigger getting tight by the second he makes his decision. His voice comes and goes, creating a tense atmosphere around him. 
“Bio-organic weapons are a global threat and we are partly to blame
” Benford said once to Leon when he expressed his desire to expose the truth about the Raccoon City Incident. He looks at the living corpse in front of him. Tick tack. He knows what he needs to do. “I’ve always valued your friendship, Leon
 It’s time to take responsibility and end this mess” 
He shakes his head, somehow returning to his reality. 
“Stay right where you are!” Leon said, his voice sounding cracked and angry. The corpse starts walking towards him and as a reflex, his grip gets more tight. “Mr. President!” 
The zombie starts walking towards him and the woman next to him. He hesitates for a moment, unsure and sure about what he needs to do. Every part of him screams and begs, trying to find a solution. He knows it’s too late. He can’t save the president, he can’t save anyone. 
“Don’t make me do this” Leon gritted his teeth, trying to find any reason to avoid what needed to be done. It happens fast. Adam Benford, the former president of the United States and now a corpse, throws himself towards her. “Adam!” Leon screams.
He pulls the trigger. 
And there’s only blood. 
He gets out of his thoughts when he hears someone knocking on his front door. It doesn't take too long for him to finally stand up and see who’s there, and, inside his mind, he’s already preparing himself to tell this person to leave him alone, but his entire demeanor changes when he opens the door, and all he sees there is you. 
“You’re back” you smiled warmly at him, your cheeks red because of the cold temperature. “I wasn’t sure you were home” 
“What are you doing here?” Leon’s first question isn't as welcome as you thought it would be. 
“A friend can’t see a friend?” you answered simply, and the smile never left your lips. 
“I’m sorry” he sighs, giving you space to enter his place. “I didn’t mean to be rude” 
“Don’t worry” you said, removing your scarf and hat. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine, I guess” Leon nods slowly, and you notice he’s not entirely well. 
“Breakfast?” you ask him, wanting to confirm your suspicions, and he nods quietly. 
You had difficulty finding yourself inside his place, since you’ve been there only once. You notice that he’s quiet, and despite that fact, which is completely normal for him, you know that there’s something wrong. So, you decided to go simple with his breakfast. Almost forty minutes later, you came back with a plate full of pancakes, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and some orange juice. 
He leisurely used his knife and fork to eat the food you made. The careful manner in which he ate wasn’t due to his cautious nature, but rather because he had a terrible hangover that messed with his coordination, and rushing could easily lead to a slip of the hand and his shaking. Leon was a pretty man, and he could easily take on leading roles in Hollywood blockbusters. However, he currently sported a scruffy beard, exuded a weary atmosphere, and radiated fatigue and discontent. 
“I think I reached rock bottom,” Leon finally says, but he avoids your gaze at all costs. 
“Then I’ll help you get out of there” you said with kindness, your pinky finger interlocking with his. 
IV. GRIEF AND BARGAIN 
The path to healing isn’t always easy, and now Leon is aware of that. 
The year is now 2014 and he’s struggling to forget what happened a year ago. Sometimes, when his mind is quiet, he starts to wonder. Is it possible that there could have been a world without Umbrella and zombies? Leon scoffed and shook off his sweet dreams. A world without zombies? That's something from a long time ago. The future is only going to become a worse hell. Then, he has to remind himself about the great things he has in life. You are one of these things.
Although he has your support, he knows that he’ll only get better walking this path by himself. The winter deciduous forest looked like branches made of human bones. A mixed forest with a walking path spread out. This is a high-end residential area in Bethesda, Maryland, where congressmen and bureaucrats commuting to Washington spend their nights. In the depths of a thicket, there was a slightly open gentle sloping area where the desired building was located. It was a designer house filled with a sense of openness, with all outer walls covered in glass, and it appeared like a model intended to showcase beautiful scenery rather than a place for people to live in. 
The luxury was excessive to the point where it seemed somewhat like a toy. Leon had hidden himself in the thicket away from the road and was monitoring the designer house through binoculars with night vision capabilities. It was an unacknowledged fact, but a traitor to the country was living in this mansion. Senator Steven Air, who had sold information to a bioterrorist organization, was one of many government officials who had been involved in the incident in Tall Oaks where the President became a victim of B.O.W. Simmons, the President's aide, was among those who betrayed the government. And Leon still blames himself for what happened that night. 
Currently, fifteen members of the Division of Security Operations (DSO) and two stealth drones have surrounded Steven's mansion. It was necessary to capture him and extract plenty of information before bringing him to trial. According to reports from aerial surveillance, Steven was on his way home by car from Washington. The distance from the White House to Bethesda was approximately twelve kilometers, and it would take about thirty minutes if he drove fast. Leon shifted his focus to his shoulder holster with a handgun. Of course, capturing him alive was best, but there was no hesitation in shooting the traitor if he resisted.
Leon suddenly remembers. This is Bethesda. The name is derived from the Bible. From the Gospel of John–
“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie — the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years."
Jesus healed the man who had been sick for 38 years. God's love and His miracles. Bravo. That's exactly what this world needs in this hell.
"Target approaching."
As he thinks about the Bible, a communication comes through his earpiece. It's a report from the overhead surveillance team flying a drone. A roadway that weaves through a grove of mixed trees was approached by Stephen's white Porsche, an elegant luxury car resembling a graceful white swan. Perhaps dozens, hundreds of people may have died to buy that car. Such is the life of a villain.
"Visual on the target vehicle. Secure upon my GO signal," Leon whispered into his radio microphone. Both the earphones and microphone were of a bone conduction type that excelled in noise resistance. It converts vocal cord vibrations transmitted through the skull directly into voice signals. It was a perfect gadget for special operations where one couldn't make loud noises or miss instructions in the midst of noise. 
The Porsche approached the garage. 
"GO," Leon said sharply. 
At that moment, two SUVs that had been hiding in a blind spot by the roadway started their engines like barking dogs and closed in on the Porsche at tremendous speed, trapping it in a pincer movement as planned. The driver of the Porsche was Stephen's secretary, with a bodyguard in the passenger seat and Stephen himself in the back seat. 
Suddenly trapped from the front and back, they were thrown into confusion. Leon wondered – would the bodyguard or secretary resist? There was no doubt that they were carrying guns. He didn't want to give them unnecessary visibility, but he would deal with it when the time came. The agents jumped out of the trees. In the next moment, Stephen's Porsche exploded. 
A deafening roar and shock. The high-performance explosive device planted under the car's body lifted the Porsche several meters off the ground, engulfing it in flames. And caught up in it, the DSO's SUVs overturned as well. The window glass of all the cars shattered into tiny pieces, the car bodies twisted and burned the people inside. All six agents from the team on foot, including Leon himself, were blown backwards by the force of the blast. Leon still thinks like he’s floating in the air, an eerie feeling of weightlessness that ended when he felt his body slamming against a tree trunk. In those fleeting moments, his consciousness waned, and it was the closest he had come to death.
Yet, it seemed the Grim Reaper was not yet ready to claim him. 
Pain, intense and searing, jolted Leon’s awareness back to life, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. Leon struggled to his feet, and he threw up, retching repeatedly. His consciousness ebbed and flowed like waves, and he knew that rest was essential. Leon suspected that his ribs and collarbone were either fractured or cracked, but, fortunately, his arms and legs remained unbroken. Gritting his teeth, he managed to force his dislocated left shoulder joint back into place, enduring the excruciating pain, as he tried to work out which way was up. 
There are bruises littered across his skin, scratches and abrasions where the bark of the tree tore his flesh. The shock of the explosion and the fear of death
 an unpleasant feeling of internal organs turning over welled up. No matter how many times he experienced it, he could never get used to the terror of a close-range explosion. The air was knocked from his lungs; his breathing temporarily stopped; his eardrums were about to burst; and his knees were weak. He can barely stand. Leon finally sits up, willing his agent training to give him a sense of urgency even though his body is screaming in agony. The stench of gasoline fills the air, but Leon can barely smell it. His sense of smell and hearing are both almost gone. What the hell happened? Leon asked himself in front of the burning Porsche.
He feels paralyzed. 
It was three in the morning when your phone started to ring. 
It was an unknown number, and you had to fight the necessity of hanging up; something inside you told you to pick up the call, which you did. It was Leon, and the way his voice sounded on the phone made you aware that something bad had happened. Terrible, nonetheless. You drove to his location, and you found yourself shocked when you found smoke, fire and the smell of gasoline among a lot of government agents and military personnel. You found Leon sitting in the back of an ambulance, his body covered by a blanket, as he was examined by a paramedic. Not only that, but you had credentials to enter that isolated area, and the way those agents were rushing from one side to the other, talking on their phones, made it clear that someone important had died. You made your way towards Leon, not daring to look around, and when you reached him, you saw tears in his eyes. You hugged him tight, like you were holding the world in your hands. 
“It’s ok, I got you” you said to him, your words full of assurance and kindness. 
Leon refused to be taken to the hospital; instead, he asked you to drive him back home, since he felt he couldn’t do it on his own. The ride back to his place was silent, and you decided to respect his space, although you saw him trying to find solace in something real. He couldn’t stop playing with his finger, showing an elevated level of stress and anxiety. You have never seen him like this before. 
“Can you stay?” Leon suddenly asked when you pulled over in front of his house. “I
 don’t want to be alone” 
“Yeah, sure” you nodded, noticing how vulnerable he was, which was odd. 
You heard him groaning in pain once he got out of your car, but he refused your help, insisting he was fine. Knowing him well at this point, you gently held his hand, offering nothing but your support, and Leon quietly appreciated your effort. You helped him sit on his couch and heard him mutter something only he could understand. Judging by the look on his face and the way his hands were still shaking, you knew he was in shock. 
“Do you have any first aid kits or something?” you asked him, hoping you would gain his attention. 
“I’m fine” Leon replies, his eyes fixated on his shaky hands. You sat next to him, holding his hands and scratching his skin softly. 
“It’s ok not to be okay." Your voice is almost a whisper as you look into his blue eyes. “You don’t have to be tough all the time” 
You saw him reach the breaking point. 
Feeling embraced by your kindness and safety, Leon finally allowed himself to feel his emotions — the same ones he fought hard to bury deep inside him — in the same place he swore he would never visit again. In the cozy atmosphere of his living room, having nothing but you as solace, the brunette agent gave himself a break, and when he did that, his eyes started to get watery.
After Raccoon City, Leon shut himself up so he wouldn’t be hurt ever again. He used to keep his emotions contained; he used to not think of them. He kept everything bottled up, because he knew he couldn’t handle it. Leon was so traumatized that the way he dealt with his feelings was to pretend they didn’t exist, in the first place. After Spain, it got worse. Nightmares after nightmares, the paranoia of still being infected with Las Plagas, everything that came after this. 
But here you are, telling him that it is ok not to be okay, that he doesn’t have to be tough, and that it is okay to feel and to be vulnerable. He couldn’t stop sobbing; his hands were still shaking, but he didn't even care about this at the moment. Gently, you started to play with his hair, your fingers slowly going up and down on his head, providing comfort and care — exactly what he’s been missing his entire life. 
“I lost them all” Leon started to say through sobs. “I saw them dead” 
“It wasn’t your fault” you assured him with calm words. 
“I failed them," he says as he looks at you, his blue eyes shining with tears as they fall through his skin. 
“That’s not true. You didn’t know the car was about to explode or whatever happened there” You tried to calm him down. 
“We were watching him; it was my responsibility to make sure they would be safe
 it was my job to ensure that” Leon sobs again, and you can see he’s struggling to breathe due to his anxiety attack. 
“Listen, you’re too nervous right now. Come on, take a deep breath with me” you said, hoping he would listen and cope. 
Leon nods between sobs and takes several deep breaths to try to calm himself down. You took a glass of water and gave it to him, then you took his hand into yours, whispering words of assurance and kindness. You decided to put him to rest, and it wasn’t necessary to drag Leon into his bed; the moment you step foot inside his room, you can see how severe his depression is. Successfully, you were able to lay him down and remove at least his boots. Leon curled into his blankets and muffled his sobs with his pillows. 
“Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting on his bed with him, moving his hair from his eyes. He nodded silently. 
Slowly, his sobs turned into sniffs, and Leon finally fell asleep. It took almost an hour to calm him down completely, but now he was safe and sound into a peaceful slumber, or what appears to be. You don’t recall exactly when you fell asleep on his bed, but you certainly remember when you woke up to the sound of his screams. Leon never told you about his nightmares, and you weren’t expecting that. His chest was drenched in sweat, and he seemed like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were filled with fear, and he was shaking head to toe. 
“Fuck” Leon mutters, his hand running through his hair. 
“What happened?” you ask him after turning the lights on. 
“Just a nightmare
” he whispers, trying to calm down again. 
“How frequent are they?” It was a bold question, but you needed to know. 
“Every night” Leon ignores your glance, focusing on his shaky hands again. 
“Here, drink it” you give him a glass of water with sugar to calm his nerves. You already had that glass with you the moment you went with him to his room. 
“Do you even like me?” Leon suddenly asks you. 
“What do you mean?” 
“You’re so kind, beautiful, and young, with so much in your future” Leon sighs heavily. “Why would you be with a
 broken man like me? I have nothing to offer but traumas and the big baggage of my shitty life” 
The pressure you put on biting your lip was so intense that it was enough to cut your skin and make it bleed. 
“Who says you have nothing to offer? I don’t think that’s true. You’re a wonderful person, Leon. I can see it every day when you come to see me at the store. The way you smile whenever you are around me, the way your eyes shine
” you said to him, hoping it would be enough to give him some comfort. “I don’t see you as a broken person or a man with the baggage of a shitty life. I can’t imagine what must have happened to you, and I know it must be difficult and hard because that's what I see, but, Leon, the darkness around you doesn’t define who you are. Whatever life did to you, it doesn't dictate your present or future."
No matter how many kind words you say, it isn’t enough for him. Leon blames himself for what happened, and you know he won’t forget it so soon. How can he? Those men trusted him and followed him, and now, they’re all dead. Leon thinks he should’ve saved them, even though he knows he couldn’t guess the car was about to explode. 
“I wish I could heal your soul so you wouldn’t suffer anymore, but I can’t” you sigh, then look at his hand. “I wish I could fight all of your demons, but I can’t do that. I’m here and I don’t intend to leave you alone” 
After holding his hand, it was the first night Leon actually slept without any more nightmares. When he woke up the next morning, he felt his eyes heavy and he instantly remembered how he cried the night before after his entire squad was murdered. Then, he also remembered that you were there with him the whole time. Finally, he noticed how strange that feeling was - the feeling of being comforted instead of comforting others. It was a strange feeling indeed, but it was a good one. 
Lazily, he stood up from his bed and decided to look at himself in the mirror, washing his face and taking a moment to see the collateral damage caused by the bomb. There were a few bruises and cuts on his skin, but huge purple marks on his shoulder, which he dislocated. It still hurts, but it’s enough to keep him in the real world. He’s still alive.  
“Morning, princess” you greeted him in his kitchen. “I made breakfast” 
“You shouldn’t worry about that, y’know?” Leon says, leaning against his cabinet. 
“Too late for that. Now is my job to worry about ya” you said, opening the cabinet above your head on tiptoe, which made him smirk. “Are you feeling better?” 
“Yeah, I guess so” he says, nodding his head and helping you get the cornflakes. “Thank you
 for sticking up with me last night” 
“You know I care about you, right? Since day one” you glance at him with a warm smile. “I really do” 
“I care about you, too” Leon blushes slightly. “More than I can tell” 
You know Leon pretty well at this point and you know he has trouble speaking of his feelings. You know he can’t express himself properly, and you ain’t stupid. You know someone has hurt him before and you understand why he is the way he is. Fortunately, you are very patient, and that’s enough for now, because you don’t mind giving him time and space. 
“I can look at your wounds; maybe I can help” you offered, finishing preparing the breakfast. 
“This means I finally earned your secrets?” Leon asks, a small smile on his lips, as he references the conversation you had with him a few months ago. 
“You surely did." You nodded, smiling. “Let’s eat first, then I’ll take a look at it” 
Leon seemed to enjoy the breakfast you made for him, and, for the first time since you two met, he genuinely seemed happy. However, you knew deep inside he was trying and fighting hard to hide his true feelings; losing his squad certainly shattered him inside, and caused more damage to him than you could ever imagine. 
Leon is a master when it comes to hiding his feelings. All over the years, Leon had built around himself an impenetrable shell, not allowing anyone to get closer, and all of that because he is scared of being hurt again. However, if the explosion never happened, if his men never died the way they did, Leon wouldn’t be pretending he’s fine when you know he’s not. The damage is so intense that you’re afraid he won’t recover. It’ll always be there with him, rotting inside him. 
You weren’t expecting so many wounds all at once, but when he took off his shirt and you saw his bruised skin, you took a deep breath. He had so many marks, so many stories. You wanted to ask, you wanted to know, but Leon wasn’t ready to share it yet. 
“I got this one back in Raccoon City” Leon quietly says, pointing to the scar on his left shoulder. “I got shot” 
“How did this happen?” you decided to ask him as you gently cleaned a few cuts he had.  
“I was helping a woman named Ada Wong to get a sample of G-Virus, and only a scientist named Annette Birkin had this sample. We were trying to find her and, when we did, she started to shoot Ada. I jumped in front of her, that’s why I got shot” Leon sighs, recalling the events that happened in the sewers. 
“This Ada seems very important to you” you smiled at him, cleaning the other cut he had on his neck.  
“She was, but it was a long time ago” Leon avoids your gaze. “Not anymore” 
“She was the one that hurt you?” you ask him very carefully. 
Leon didn’t answer, but his silence speaks for himself. You can see the extension of the damage and how Leon still struggles to deal with whatever happened between him and Ada. He stays silent, maybe trying to understand how his life turned into this mess. Then, he starts to count every time he was betrayed before until this very moment. His blue irises meet yours and all he feels is
 peace. There’s no inner storms inside him, he feels completely at ease. 
“If I ask you a favor
” Leon suddenly says, changing the conversation. 
“What do you need?” you ask him without hesitation. 
“Could you come with me to the morgue? There’s something I need to do” Leon sighs, preparing himself for what’s about to happen. 
“Of course. I’ll tell my parents I’ll go to the store later” you nodded, quickly picking up your phone to text them. 
Leon partially felt guilty, but you were so willing to go with him that he changed his mind after you helped him dress himself — the way he dislocated his shoulder still hurts and he has difficulty with it. You drove to the morgue and judging by the interior of the building, you found out Leon was some sort of agent working for the government. You were able to read the name of the organization. Division of Security Operations. 
“So you’re a badass agent, huh?” you ask with enthusiasm as you walk next to him. 
“I wouldn’t say I’m a badass” Leon chuckles, still feeling tense. 
“Well, if you put your neck at stake to save your country, then you’re definitely a badass” you added, giving him a warm smile. 
When you both stepped inside the morgue, he reached out for your hand, seeking any support you could give him. The back wall was a box-shaped cold storage room, and a row of dissecting tables lined the spacious room. And on those dissecting tables were numerous body bags. It's a body bag with the DSO logo on it. Do they really need a logo even on something like this? Irony floated within Leon's chest. Are they planning to sell products with the logo on them, like DSO-branded body bags, DSO-logoed cigarette cases, DSO-logoed pass cases...?
He walked between the body bags to the sound of his boots. Unlike normal bodies, the victims of b.o.w - related incidents were usually sent for examination to specialized research institutions. Although this time the cause of death was due to a bomb, not a zombie attack, the instruction from above was to send the bodies to various laboratories, so they followed suit. This DSO branch’s mortuary was a relay point for passing the bodies from the scene to the laboratory, like a baton in a relay race. It wasn’t easy to simply bury them in a graveyard. The morgue itself wasn’t scary, but the corpses were scary because they stimulated the imagination. 
“Would they suddenly start moving? Would I end up like this too?” Leon thinks to himself a little bit loud, enough for you to hear him.
“You won’t” you whispered, squeezing his hand to let him know you were there.  
Watching the corpses closely would cause a moment where the elongated shadows would appear like monsters. However, that was before Raccoon City. He had seen too many moments where the dead came back to life. 
“I’m not scared of the mortuary anymore; recently, I’ve been thinking about it a lot” Leon frowned as he moved towards the back while swirling his thoughts. He thought he heard a sound from there minutes before. 
“What do you mean?” you ask him with curiosity as he approaches one of the bags. 
“I was constantly thinking about death and ending everything. I was depressed and thought I had no hope left” Leon confessed, his eyes locked on the body bags in front of him. “But now
 I don’t think about that anymore”
He glances at you, finally. Slowly, his eyes meet your hand while you’re holding him and there’s a small smile on his lips, then his blue irises find yours again. 
“I used to be scared of the morgue
 but coming here with you
 is something else” Leon says next. “I couldn’t do this alone” 
“I’m glad I can help” you said to him with your usual kindness. 
But he stops and turns his attention back to the body bags and sighs. His entire demeanor changed and suddenly, he found himself fighting hard to keep doing this. He needed that. He owed his men at least this final goodbye. 
“What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child?” Leon thinks to himself as he approached one of the body bags. 
The zipper was slightly open, and the body bag seemed like it was about to move any moment. It’s common for something that seems like it’s about to move to actually move.
Leon carelessly closed the zipper. Was it because of the sharp sound that, suddenly, another body bag bounced behind him? Inside the body bag, the zombie was wiggling and struggling. It seemed unhappy, as if it had been woken up from a deep sleep by force. Leon pulled out his gun from his holster and squeezed the trigger. 
“What kind of adult did I want to become? I definitely didn’t want a life like this” 
V. ACCEPTANCE 
After everything that happened with his squad, Leon knew he needed time off of his office. Decided to get his mind off everything and take a break, Leon chose the Rocky Mountains in Colorado as his destination. Instead of going there alone, he thought it would be good to spend more time with you, mostly because he felt safe around you and due to the nature of his job and everything he saw, he needed to feel that safety only you provided him.  
You had to explain to your parents why you would be going on a vacation, but they understood with no problems; they didn’t know about Leon because you were fearing some trouble because of the age gap, so you felt they weren’t exactly ready to meet him. How could you explain to them you were apparently dating a man eleven years older than you? It would be one hell of a surprise. 
It was 9 a.m. in the mountainous area near Rocky Mountain National Park, located in northern Colorado. The national park was about a two-hour drive from the state capital, Denver. Along the way, there were several viewpoints where numerous travelers parked their cars to enjoy the scenic beauty. Even in the mountainous region of the Rockies, the mountains around this area were not exceptionally high. They were just before the tree line, covered with spruce and fir trees on the subalpine slopes. The forest appeared like a beautifully groomed brush, while wildflowers bloomed modestly, sheltered by large rocks.
“This place is incredible” you sound mesmerized by the incredible view from the hotel. 
“You haven’t been in places like this before?” Leon asks you with curiosity. 
“I barely leave my house” you chuckle, leaving your bag on the bed. “I just work at my parent’s store and go to college” 
“It feels like I’m dating a baby” Leon chuckles, also leaving his bag next to yours. 
“We’re dating, huh?” you teased, taking off your sneakers. 
“Yeah, we are” Leon nods his head, smiling. “I know I haven’t officially asked you, but I’m too old for that” 
“It’s fine, old man. I’m just messing with you” you said, playing with his fingers. 
“Old man? Now I’m offended” Leon teases back, smiling. 
“You said it first” you replied to him, your hands reaching his brown hair. “By the way
 I have something for you” 
Leon glanced at you, frowning. The mischievous smile on your lips immediately told him you were planning something. He sat up on the bed and kept his eyes fixed on you, waiting patiently for whatever you were about to do. 
“I got you a birthday present” you said with enthusiasm, catching him by surprise. “I know I’m a few days late, but I wanted to give you something for your 37th birthday” 
“You didn’t have to” Leon whispered in shock as you gave him the small box. 
He unwrapped the present you gave him and found a beautiful dagger, silver and shining, also pretty sharp. Leon knew immediately that you probably paid a lot on that and he felt bad. He took a deep breath and glanced at you. 
“This was very expensive. You shouldn’t waste your money with me like that” Leon says to you. 
“It’s a gift. You can’t give it back” you said to him, a hint of playfulness in your voice as you insisted for him to keep it. 
“That’s not fair” Leon complains, laughing softly. 
“It’s pretty fair to me, though” you said to him, smirking. “It’s just a dagger, not a diamond or something related. I know your job is kind of dangerous and you might need it” 
“Okay, you win. I’ll take it” Leon sighs in defeat. “About my job
 I know I haven’t been extremely open about it, but
” 
“It’s okay, I don’t want you to feel forced to share this with me if you don’t feel ready” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. 
“I wish I could be more open to you” Leon glanced at his hands, feeling bad because of that. 
“Start simple and small. You don’t have to tell me absolutely everything at once” you placed your hand on his shoulder, petting him. 
“Simple and small? How could I do that?” Leon frowned at the idea. He always thought it was impossible to open up about his trauma. 
You pondered for a few moments, thinking about a way to help him talk about his issues in a positive way. 
“Start with something like
 why don't you like dogs?” you suggested. A while ago you noticed Leon had a certain aversion to dogs. 
“I
 um
 I was attacked by dogs in Raccoon City. They weren’t common dogs, they were infected, something like that” Leon found himself surprised by the way he spoke about this issue so easily. “Then, at Spain, I had a few encounters with wolves also infected with a parasite, monstrous things” 
“See? That one was pretty easy” you said, encouraging him to keep talking. “Wanna try to say something else?” 
Leon thought about your question for minutes; inside his head, everything that has happened to him was like an endless movie. The trauma, the pain and the events that seem to be haunting him to this day. It was hard to pick one, but then, he reminds himself of your words of being simple and small. He takes a deep breath and quietly, he convinces himself that he can do this. 
“Back at Raccoon City, it was my first day at the force and I was 21 at the time” Leon starts, his eyes focused on something else. “I was late, but I think that’s why I’m still alive” 
While he was telling you the horrors he saw, you gently placed your hand on his, to let him know you’re there for him. It was a simple and kind gesture, but for him, it meant the world. Leon was only familiar with danger and brutality, so having you by his side providing comfort was enough to penetrate the depth of his former persona. It was enough to rescue the rookie cop buried inside those walls. 
“After that night
 everything changed. I’m here because of what I did to survive and I’m not exactly proud of it. I can’t stop blaming myself for my past actions, but
” Leon suddenly stops, taking another deep breath. 
“You can’t control everything around you, Leon. And not everything that happens to us is our fault. You couldn’t know you were going to be stalked and nearly killed on your first day
 you didn't know that there was a virus outbreak in Raccoon City that night
” you said to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “You need to understand that this isn’t your baggage to carry. What happened that day wasn’t your fault” 
Leon had your words playing on repeat inside his head. Even though he was early in the morning drinking his sorrows away, he was still thinking about what you said. He also felt partially guilty for leaving you asleep in the bed while he was drinking, but the other part of him told you knew him pretty well and you wouldn’t be judging him for this. His head was a roller coaster and at this very moment, he wasn’t at the top. 
Leon sat on the first floor of a lodge-style hotel in the rural town. The hotel was two stories tall, made of reinforced concrete, but designed to resemble traditional log construction. There was only one waiter and one chef, making it far from a trendy establishment — a rather run-down place. He was having breakfast in the first-floor restaurant. Though the restaurant wasn't popular, the food was decent. Approaching footsteps came from behind him — two sets of them.
"--To come fully armed to such a peaceful town," Leon said without turning around.
"Leon S. Kennedy, the ace of the DSO, a special agent organization directly under the President of the United States," a voice replied.
Finally, he turned around to see Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers standing there.
"Chris and... oh, the renowned expert in biohazard research, Professor Rebecca Chambers. What do you want?" he asked.
"It's work. Cooperate," Chris said in an uncompromising tone.
Chris and Rebecca sat across from him. And it was noticeable that he wore an annoyed expression. 
"I'm on vacation." 
"...In the past, while protecting the President's daughter, Ashley Graham, you fought and annihilated the cult group Los Illuminados. They were using special bio-organic weapons called Plagas," Chris said.
"I've forgotten about that old stuff," Leon replied simply.
"Do you plan on loafing around in this town for another week?" Chris asked.
"I don't know what will happen in the future," Leon retorted.
"Beer, please," Rebecca chuckled at the reference to an old movie, while Chris wore an unamused expression.
Leon called over a passing waitress with a casual wave to place his order, but Chris interrupted him.
"Cancel the beer."
"No, it's not canceled."
“Come on
 what the fuck?!”
"I don't need any more alcohol."
"Cut it out. What's going on?"
"That's my line."
The waitress looked between the two of them suspiciously and before walking away. Eventually, Leon pulled out a flask from his back pocket and took a swig as a substitute for the additional order that couldn't be fulfilled.
"You–!" Chris leaned forward.
"Enough, both of you," Rebecca interjected. "--Leon. We apologize for disturbing your vacation. However, we need the information you possess," Rebecca said.
Finally, Leon showed a willingness to listen.
"...What's the situation?" he asked.
Chris and Rebecca had to explain to him what happened earlier at the university. The case was simple. Glenn Arias was a new threat and they needed to stop him at all costs. However, they didn’t know how Leon was suffering inside; they couldn’t know about the recent events. Leon wearily intertwines his gestures and continues, 
"Just before I took my vacation... I was involved in a DSO mission in Bethesda to apprehend a treacherous senator who was selling internal information to a bioterrorist organization." 
The disgusted irritation was evident in his movements, his expression, and his voice. 
"You know..." Leon begins. "Here's the thing: the informant we used betrayed us. We fell into a trap instead. A massive explosion killed many of my colleagues... and then there was the incident with the resurrection of the corpses you guys were involved in... It's all a mess," 
Leon explains, letting out a heavy sigh. It's a sigh that escapes unintentionally, like a burden he carries.
"I had planned to become a police officer in Raccoon City. It was my dream job. But on my first day, there was a massive zombie outbreak, and from there... it never stopped," Leon pauses and shakes his head. "I've been fighting this whole time. There's no end in sight, and it only keeps getting worse. Have I been living just to fight zombies and the people who create them?"
"What are you trying to say? That you don't want to cooperate with us?" Chris asks.
"It's not that..." Leon's tone is uncertain, "Well, maybe it is."
With a hesitant tone, Leon continues
“What exactly is our goal? How far do we have to run? Do we have to keep running endlessly? The villains keep coming, one after another, while the good people keep dying. Maybe it's better to lose our minds."
Then, Chris found himself forced to explain to Leon what they were facing. He showed pictures of Cathy White, the agent that was turned into a bio-weapon. And worse, her son she killed. He showed the photos taken during the autopsy and how Glenn turned people into something else purely because of power. 
"Killing him is the goal," Chris declares.
"That's only your goal, not mine," Leon retorts, his voice filled with resentment.
Tension fills the air between them once again.
"Hey," Rebecca interrupts, breaking the silence just as she did before. "So, Leon, you're exhausted," Rebecca points at Leon and then gestures to Chris. "And Chris, you're frustrated. There's one thing both tired people and irritable people have in common."
"What do we have in common?" Chris asks in response.
They both look at each other with a wide-eyed grin.
"You only think about yourselves," Rebecca replies. 
"I–" Chris tries to interject, but Rebecca continues. 
"Chris, all you talk about is wanting to kill Glenn Arias. After helping me, you didn't say a single word mourning the sacrifices of our colleagues. Leon, you're acting like a college student in their moratorium period. People get tired of running. But if we stop running, more people will lose their lives."
Rebecca takes out a trigger-activated needleless syringe from her small bag. In front of the bewildered duo, she abruptly presses the syringe against her left forearm and pulls the trigger, causing her blood to collect in the test tube attached to the syringe.
"I'll tell you something important. We're already infected," she says.
"What?" Leon's expression tightens in response.
Rebecca continues speaking in a tone reminiscent of a teacher addressing a poor student. 
"The truth is, it's difficult to estimate just how many people have been infected by Arias' new virus. The problem is, we don't know the identity of the trigger that activates it."
As she speaks, Rebecca removes the test tube from the syringe and seals it with a cap.
"The virus is activated by something only Arias knows. When that happens, the dead rise, and living humans become bio-weapons."
Rebecca glances lightly at Leon. 
"If things continue like this, this city will eventually become a living hell. There won't be any safe places."
Leon remains silent, averting his gaze.
"Just so you know, a prototype of the antivirus has been developed," Rebecca says. "It actually worked on me. However, the effectiveness of the antivirus is unstable without knowing the conditions for the activation of Arias' virus. When to administer it and how long it remains effective..."
Rebecca then places the sealed test tube into a small protective case and puts it on the table. 
"My blood should provide valuable data. If I die, make sure it reaches a reputable research institution that you can trust."
"You're not in danger. We'll protect you," Chris says firmly.
"What?" Leon asks, confused.
"It seems like you're misunderstanding, BSAA soldier," Rebecca lightly dismisses Chris's assumption.
There’s a slight smirk on Leon’s lips as he hears that. 
"The forefront of pandemic response is not the BSAA, but the research field. How many doctors and colleagues do you think I've seen die in conflict-ridden African countries or small Middle Eastern nations used as testing grounds for bio-weapons?" Rebecca questions.
Chris tries to say something in response, but his voice gets stuck in his throat, and only faint breaths escape.
"After I left the team, you two might have fought against plenty of mad scientists. But science can only be countered with science. Unless benevolent technology advances, we will never have a chance of winning. We fight not only for ourselves but for others. Have you both understood at least a little of what I'm saying?" Rebecca asks.
She stands up and adds, "Cool your heads," before leaving her seat.
"She's a great woman," Leon comments.
"We can't handle it on our own," Chris remarks, watching Rebecca leave, and he and Leon exchanged a wry smile. 
And then, here it comes. The urge to talk about what happened one year ago. 
"Leon, China was tough," Chris says, referring to that incident.
"Yeah, it was like a zombie version of Black Hawk Down." he nods in response. 
"At that time, I wanted to quit the BSAA so badly," Chris admits, surprising Leon, "After getting involved with Umbrella, I witnessed too many deaths. We..." 
Chris trails off. His expression was heavy, as if lead had settled in the depths of his heart. Then Chris realized: Why does it make me so angry to see him like this? He was too much like his old self.
"It makes you want to quit... makes me want to quit," Chris says, emphasizing his point. Leon falls into silence. And Chris delivers the final blow. "But, the moment we quit, all of our subordinates and friends will have died in vain. We are the survivors of Raccoon City. We carry that burden."
Chris falls silent, and the air becomes still. The waitress looks annoyed by the silence. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the said silence. 
"Leon, I always thought you were a cheerful guy no matter what," Chris breaks the silence.
"No one is like that," Leon replies, “Well
 I’m not. I've always been a stress-tolerant guy. I've been able to do what I've done because of it. But now look back on it. In Tall Oaks, I killed the president.”
"Technically, you had to save the President infected with the virus," Chris quickly adds, trying to provide some context.
“But,” Leon shakes his head, "But the fact remains that I pulled the trigger, I shot him, and I was even suspected of assassinating the President afterward. Although I managed to clear my name, the mastermind behind that incident turned out to be the President's aide. The DSO was once called the 'Sword of the President,' but now it sounds ironically fitting."
Chris remains silent, attentively listening to Leon's words.
"Chris," Leon continues. "I've returned to active duty, but every time I face the new President, I feel anxious. I can sense his unease as well. The President's aide had sold his soul to B.O.W. terrorism. Who's next? The Secretary of Defense? The Vice President? What's become of the foundation that supports the soldiers in the field? They keep using us, while the higher-ups continue to flounder, grow bloated... They only think about shifting blame onto others."
He pauses for a moment. There’s so much pain. 
Leon furrows his brow and lowers his voice. "Perhaps the reason entities like Umbrella persist is that our society harbors a fundamental evil... I can't help but feel that way now."
Even agreeing with this stupid mission, Leon can’t go without saying goodbye. He feels guilty, but the moment he sees you, everything feels completely right. He sat at the bed, watching you perfectly asleep, imagining what kind of dreams you were having. Leon sighs and shakes his head. 
“Hey, sweetheart” Leon says when he sees you waking up. 
“Hi” you whisper, rubbing your eyes. 
“Listen
 something happened and my colleagues need me. Will you be okay here?” he asks you, his thumb trailing your cheek. 
“Will you come back?” you ask him, sounding a little groggy. 
“And leave my baby girl here all alone? Of course I’ll come back” he smiles sweetly at you. 
“Ok
 I’ll be here” you nodded your head, closing your eyes to go back to sleep. 
Something about you made him see, for the first time, the bright side of things. Maybe it was the fact that you were younger than him, and also the fact that you were full of energy - he was just an old and bitter man. But, hey, he’s learning how to cope with every shit that has happened to him. 
Before you, Leon was ready to die. 
He was ready to embrace death, he already had made peace with his inner demons. But everything changed when you came into his life. Suddenly, he thought he could live and find happiness and death wasn’t in his thoughts anymore. It was like you were able to bring him back from his darkness. He wasn’t rotting inside. You were able to rescue him from himself and return the light he needed. 
But if he thought he wasn’t close to death, he was wrong. Leon never thought he would face something like Glenn Arias and come close to death, but he had his job to do. Chris needed his help and Leon finally found closure to something that was weighing on his head; the death of his squad wasn’t his fault and he found the real culprit. He found the peace he was desperately looking for. And he was able to see another sunrise and come back to you. 
It was a repetitive cycle. Leon recently started to wonder if anything he did was futile. That's why he took a vacation and drowned his sorrows in alcohol. It was a kind of protest, perhaps. A protest against the grand concepts of this world and destiny. A statement of "I’m not going on like this forever, I’m not going to do it," or something of that sort. But fate was cruel. In the end, human life rarely goes well by one's own choices. Perhaps humans are merely chosen by fate without their consent. Yet, Leon now felt that it was okay like that. Being chosen doesn't make him a hero by default. He becomes a hero reluctantly because he was chosen. And that's fine. 
The merged form approached Leon with an eerie growl, swinging its massive fist. Leon leaped back to dodge it, and the merged form's punch shattered one of the spires on the rooftop into tiny fragments. It had the destructive power of a construction hammer, with each strike resembling the impact of a tank cannon round. Leon intentionally slid and jumped into the merged form's feet, thinking that at such a large size, close range might become a blind spot. He positioned himself beneath the massive body, lying on his back and firing his handgun. The shots were practically point-blank, but they were still deflected by the hardened muscles and exoskeleton. 
"Doesn't matter," Leon muttered involuntarily. "I'll do whatever it takes, even if it's futile. Today's a good day to die anyway."
The merged form kicked out.
The enemy's movements were deceptively swift, and Leon was sent flying as if hit by a car. His body tumbled through the air until it finally collided with a gargoyle statue, coming to a stop. The impact was so intense that his breath nearly ceased. However, the merged form continued its pursuit. It threw a straight punch, a blow that would surely result in instant death if landed, but Leon managed to evade it with a jump. Not only did he dodge it, but in mid-air, Leon twisted his body and unleashed a spinning kick. His boot-clad foot connected with the grotesque face of the merged form.
Whether it would have any effect or not didn't matter. This strike was my will. Of course, a kick from a mere human wouldn't have any effect. The merged form retaliated with its opposite hand, grabbing hold of Leon.
"Gah!" A groan escaped Leon's throat involuntarily. The massive fist tightened around him like a vice, and within a few seconds, he felt himself being crushed like a tomato.
"Leon!" Chris emerged from the penthouse.
In his fading consciousness, Leon thought about you. The way you smiled whenever you were with him and the sweet perfume you love to use. The way your hands embrace him at night, helping him sleep safely, without any nightmares to harm him. And then, he doesn’t want to die anymore. Please, God, don’t let me die this way. 
Chris picked up the fully automatic handgun that Arias had dropped along the way and unleashed a barrage of bullets at the merged form. For a brief moment, it seemed like the merged form's focus shifted, and its grip loosened slightly, but that was all.
Was my life meant to end here, crushed by this grotesque monster? Leon wondered, his pessimism threatens to shatter him. Leon wasn't the type to easily get this depressed or overthink things too much. Still, he felt more than a little exhausted.
What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child? I never imagined I would be burdened with the stigma of assassinating a president. At least, I didn't want a life like this ― It doesn't matter what I want. There's no such thing as a person who can live the life they desire. Arias must have felt the same way. In the end

VI. ABSOLUTION
When he came back, you noticed something inside him had changed. 
After the fight with Arias, Leon noticed that life was much more than death, darkness and depression. At least, he started to think like that when he almost got killed. And his only thought was coming back to you. No, he couldn’t die like that and leave you alone. His arm was injured, but he was alive. And he was back. 
“What happened to your arm?” you asked him when you saw him entering the room. 
“Remember that day in the morgue when you told me I was a badass government agent?” Leon asks you back, sitting on the bed next to you. 
“Yep, I do” you nodded, starting to massage his tense muscles. 
“Well
 I’m not this kind of agent. I work under the president’s orders. I fight bioweapons for a living
 since that hell in Raccoon City” Leon sighs, finally opening about his job. 
“Bioweapons? Like zombies and shit?” you ask him with curiosity. 
“Worse than zombies, but yes” Leon nodded with a slight smirk. “It’s dangerous, and this time I nearly got killed
 thing is, my job requires a lot of my time, it forces me to not be around for God knows how long. It scares me because I don’t know if you can live this chaotic life with me
” 
“Wait, wait, wait
 slow down” you held his hand and squeezed it softly. “Everyone deserves a second chance in life, Leon. You were alone for too much time and I don’t mind if you need to go somewhere else to fight bioweapons. If this means I get to see these pretty eyes of yours and this sweet smile every time you come home
 I’m willing to live this chaotic life with you” 
Leon couldn’t believe your words. After being deprived of something so human and getting used to it, Leon felt he was about to explode. It was too much for him to handle. At this point, he knew perfectly he was experiencing anxiety. But it was a good one. 
“I don’t want you to get hurt. If we do this, I’m gonna get you wrapped up in something bad someday
 and I’ll never forgive myself if this happens” Leon tells you, sounding extremely worried.
“I know you won’t let anything bad happen to me. And besides, I can take care of myself. I made self defense classes” you laugh sweetly, a symphony to his ears. 
“Are you sure?” Leon asks, and those big puppy eyes of his wanting nothing but assurance.
“Honey, if this wasn’t true, I wouldn’t be here” you chuckled, kissing his forehead. 
After what happened, you decided to introduce Leon to your family as your boyfriend. But before that, you convinced him he needed to improve a little. Getting rid of the alcohol was the first step. He started to see a therapist and work harder on his issues, which influenced a lot of your relationship. He was more happy and willing to do things he and you both liked. One year after that incident with his squad being killed and his mission with his friends, you noticed he was ready to meet your parents. 
“I’m nervous” Leon tells you when you both were entering your home. 
“Why? It’s not like we’ve been dating secretly for almost three years. Besides, they’ll think you’re cute, don’t worry” you giggled at him. 
“I’m not so sure about that” he muttered, following you inside your parents place.
You could clearly tell how anxious he was. However, he always felt at ease on your side, and it was like you had the power to make him relax, like nothing could harm him and the world was finally at peace. When you stepped inside the house with Leon right behind you for a Christmas dinner, your parents were already expecting both of you. 
“Mom, dad
 this is Leon. The guy I was talking about” you introduced him to your parents with certain expectations. 
“You clearly got my taste for man” Leon heard your mom whispering to you, which made his cheeks turn red. 
“So
 um
 how long are you two hanging out?” your dad asked and you glanced quickly at Leon. 
“Three years, I guess. We met at the store” you tell your parents. “I didn’t tell you before because Leon has a busy schedule. He’s not always in town, so
” 
“Well, moonpie, if you’re happy, we’re happy too” your mom says with a gracious smile on her lips. 
Leon wasn’t expecting to be so welcomed into your family, but the fact that your parents treated him so kindly melted his heart. He got himself thinking about the dinner for at least one week, mostly because part of him was still thinking it was weird to receive so much kindness and affection, especially coming from a real family. He wasn’t expecting to be playing cards with your dad while you and your mom were in the kitching talking about girl’s stuff, but it was enough to make him see he made the right choice. That it was okay for him to finally experience love. 
“I like your light brown hair now that you finally stopped dying it” you said, sitting between his legs in the living room. 
“My emo era is over” he chuckles sweetly, like a melody. 
“May it rest in peace” you made the signal of the cross. “
“Changing the subject, tomorrow I gotta go to San Francisco. Work stuff” he says to you, softly kissing your neck. 
“Yeah? Am I getting some gift?” you whisper, feeling the shivers down your spine with his lips against your skin. 
“Do I ever go on a mission and come back empty handed?” Leon asks you, his soft lips pressing more against your neck and you can feel him softly biting you. 
The thing is, Leon is like a porcelain doll. He needs to be treated with softness and kindness, because deep down, he is vulnerable. The way his lips met your skin was a clear sign that he was ready for you. He was finally ready to be yours. However, loving Leon also needed patience, and after three years, you could tell he wanted that too. 
“Do you want to do this before you leave, handsome?” you ask him teasingly, holding his hands as he keeps kissing your neck. 
“Yes, I do,” he nods, almost moaning in your ear. 
He gently took you to his bedroom, the place was almost a sanctuary for him. He laid you down on his bed and removed his shirt, and this time, he didn’t seem ashamed of himself. You stood up from his bed and sat him on the edge, your hands trailing down his skin like he was a roller coaster. He closed his eyes, his breath soft and calm, although he anticipated what was about to happen. Leon craved for you. 
“I’ll take care of you” you whispered, leaving soft kisses across his neck and chest. 
You sat gently between his legs, your sweet and soft fingers removing his pants and reaching his already hardened cock. He sat there, observing you with those big and blue puppy eyes, like he was savoring your image. When you took all his length inside your mouth and gently started to suck him, Leon felt he was in heaven. It felt so good, so powerful. 
Tears started to fall from his eyes and he cried. Not because you were hurting him, dear lord, of course not! It was because he finally felt that he deserved to be loved. Your tongue did an amazing job on his cock and when he came, he felt his body at ease. Leon moaned with the sudden sensation, it was stronger than he last remembered. But it was because of you. 
“I love you” he says when you touch his face, wiping his tears. 
Loving Leon needed patience, you knew that already. 
However, living with him brought new challenges that you weren’t expecting at all. He would be gone for weeks, then he comes back out of nowhere. He always forgets to send you a message to let you know he’s coming back, but that’s okay, because his lack of patience to deal with technology amuses you. He always sends an emoji out of context, which makes you laugh and you find it very cute when he gets disappointed for misunderstanding those little and yellow faces. He’s getting there, don’t worry about that. 
When he’s at home, things turn out differently. He always helps you with the chores, likes to tease you whenever you’re cooking his favorite meal and at the end of the day, you two are together on the couch watching some silly movie while he complains about it and softly scratches your leg. Sharing a domestic life was something he never thought he would have, not after everything he went through alone. 
Now that he's back from whatever he did in San Francisco, you have another job to do. Tend to his injuries. It’s a small sacrifice to pay whenever he comes back hurt; this time he has purple marks all over his body and face. You don’t ask what on earth happened, because you know he can’t really give details, but at least he’s safe and sound with you again. 
“Stop moving, old man!” you tell him, trying to clean a small cut he had on his neck. 
“That hurts,” Leon replied back, flinching slightly. 
“I know, but someone has to clean it” you rolled your eyes, applying a Barbie band-aid on his neck. 
“Please, don’t tell me I got the Barbie thing on my neck” Leon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 
“Next time I’ll get you a cat one” you wink playfully at him. 
After so many death experiences and the inner wish of being dead, he’s glad that he found the absolution that he always wanted. He looks at you with amusement, part of him finds it hard to believe that he’s so lucky to have you, but the other part is glad that you are real and you love him for who he really is. You took every damaged part of him and loved with such intensity that it was enough to bring him back from that dark place he was at. He forgave himself, allowed his soul to heal and to be loved. Life had gifted him with the second chance to live, made him see the beautiful things again. You took him in when he was on the lower part of his life, and your love brought him back. He knows he’s getting older, but he doesn’t mind spending his days with you, because you are the only thing in his life that makes sense.
And he’s fine with that. 
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villainousauthor · 18 days ago
Text
Hero's hands clutched the bouquet of roses with a grip strong enough to snap the thorny stems as they opened the trashcan.
Without so much as a ceremonial look, they dumped the offending red flowers quickly, shoving them down.
This was the third bouquet to show up on their doorstep in the past week, even more elaborate than the last two. It seems Villain was trying every combination of flowers until they figured out Hero's favorite.
Hero's nose curls in disgust. People were dying and suffering in the streets because of Villain's tyranny, and yet they sent Hero petty gifts like a lover or admirer.
It must be another way to taunt them, to mess with their head. Another way to show that Villain knows where they live, could leave anything at their doorstep any time they want. There's no guarantee Hero won't come home to find Villain themselves on their door, lethal smile on their face, weapon behind their back.
Biting back the fear, Hero refuses to react to any of these displays. Each bouquet left at their home is quickly and methodically disposed of, as if without a thought.
Of course, this feigned indifference only spurs Villain on even more. Soon, the gifts are being left daily, as if begging for a reaction. Hero can feel the increasing agitation in Villain's actions. More flowers, jewels, trinkets, and baubles. All in the trash. It's only a matter of time before something has to give, but Hero refuses to give in.
More gifts, punctuated by more violence in the city. A pretty necklace that catches the light ever so, followed by an entire neighborhood reduced to ash. Different flowers this time, more pointless deaths.
After one particularly long day spent pulling more people out of rubble, they return home to see the front door completely bare. A first in weeks. For just a moment they feel hopeful that maybe Villain had gotten bored, hope that is quickly squashed when they enter their home.
Every surface, window, shelf, or tabletop in their home is lined with large blossoming flowers. Orchids this time. Hundreds of them, the room is filled with the fragrant smell. Villain is escalating, showing Hero there's no true barrier stopping Villain from coming after them whenever they choose.
Their phone rings, breaking Hero out of their stupor. It's an unknown number, but they already know who it is, a deep, uncomfortable feeling swirling in their gut, the hairs on their neck raised. Still, they find themselves answering anyways.
Villain's voice crackles through the screen, low and amused.
"So what do you think of my gift? Are orchids your flower of choice, or are these going into the trash as well?"
Hero forgets how to speak for a moment, floundering to come up with a response. Villain doesn't give them a moment, continuing to speak in that same saccharine tone.
"You know, the color of flowers holds meaning, red orchids in particular-"
"I don't give a shit about the meaning." Finally finding their voice, Hero cuts them off suddenly. "How'd you even get into my house?" They try to keep their voice steady, even.
Tsking through the other side, Villain completely ignores their question. "You should care. Do you think the gifts I send have no significance?"
"The significance is obviously to upset me." Hero rolls their eyes as they speak, despite the fear in their stomach. They wring their hands, wanting to hang up, but something stops them. "To scare me, threaten me."
Villain sighs, voice sounding particularly raspy through the line. "You really are so foolish if you think that's what this is about." They speak in a low rumble as they continue. "Have I not been ardent enough in my affections?"
Hero's stomach is a mess of warmth and anxiety. They feel a pinch of pain as they dig their fingernails into their palms. They take a steadying breath before speaking again.
"Stop pretending there's any point to this other than to intimidate. Stop pretending you're some lovesick admirer." They bite, ending the call before Villain can come up with another retort. Before they can cause more confusion in Hero's mind.
Moving with efficency, Hero begins to grab as many vases as possible, to shove them into the trash, as many will fit. They pause though, upon the largest bouquet on the table.
There's a note attached, wrapped around it with silky ribbon. With a shaking hand, Hero reaches for the note, opening with a sense of dread.
There, written in sickening, half dried blood, is simple line.
I love you.
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pastryfication · 6 months ago
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Hey hey hey! So, I was wondering if you could work your magic on this request? We all know Oscar LOVES sleeping whenever he can but what if he has a girlfriend with quite frequent insomnia such as moi? Maybe the piece could be about him searching for all kinds of serious and wacky methods to help her sleep - white noise, sound apps, black out blinds, counting actual sheep, a cold bedroom etc and eventually something so simple such as snuggling together after he's washed her hair or something soppy works? Thank you, you're an angel!
thank u for the request!! i hope i did it justice but i have no idea how insomnia works so feel free to correct me if i’ve written something wrong đŸ«¶
5 things that didn’t help you sleep and the 1 thing that actually did | oscar piastri
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pairing: oscar piastri x insomniac!reader
warnings: mentions of insomnia and the use of melatonin
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oscar piastri treasures every moment of sleep he can get. cuddling up under the covers, catching up on much-needed rest between races, training sessions and team meetings is his sanctuary, a place where he can recharge. it’s entirely different for you. sleep often feels elusive, insomnia visits you regularly, and after trying to take melatonin, you feel like there truly must be something wrong with you when you’re still left you tossing and turning while oscar dozes peacefully beside you.
one particularly restless night, as you lie awake staring at the ceiling, you decide you’ve had enough. oscar, sensing your frustration, turns over and looks at you with sleepy but concerned eyes.
“another bad night?” he asks softly, voice groggy.
you nod, feeling guilty for disturbing his rest. “i just can’t seem to fall asleep.”
determined to help you find the peace he enjoys so effortlessly, oscar spends the next day researching every possible solution for insomnia, and he ends up with a list. 5 things that have helped others who are suffering from the same problem, and over the next few weeks, he convinced you to try it all, hoping to find the one thing that will finally help you sleep.
1. white noise
the first thing he tries is white noise. researching the best possible brand, he buys a white sound machine and sets it to a gentle hum when you go to sleep one night. the constant noise fills the room, creating a soothing background sound and drowning out any distractions.
it’s nice to lay and listen to, and at first, you think it might work. you close your eyes, snuggle into the covers to find the best position and takes oscar’s hand in yours.
you try, you really do try your best, to let the sound lull you to sleep. everything is nice and calm, but after a few nights, it’s clear that the constant noise only makes you more restless. you lie awake, feeling like you’re trapped in a static-filled void, and you just want to cry.
2. sound apps
oscar is quick to notice your disappointment, and he therefore quickly moves on to the next point on the list.
he downloads several sound apps on his phone, experimenting with everything from rainstorms to ocean waves to forest sounds. he tries different combinations, adjusting the volume and mixing the sounds in various ways, bringing out his inner dj to make you as comfortable as possible.
you appreciate the effort, but none of the sounds seem to do the trick. you lie awake, feeling more like you’re in a nature documentary than trying to sleep. the sounds that are supposed to be calming just keep you more alert, your mind unable to quiet down.
3. blackout blinds
oscar then orders blackout blinds, thinking that maybe the slightest hint of light is the culprit.
the blinds plunge the room into complete darkness, blocking out any external light. at first, you think it might work. the darkness is comforting and you hope it will help you relax, but instead of soothing you, the darkness feels oppressive. you lie there, eyes wide open, feeling the walls close in. the complete absence of light only makes you nervous and the two of you quickly have to give up on that as well.
4. counting sheep
you insisted that counting sheep was silly. there was no way it was going to work and you told oscar exactly that. he didn’t agree though, and with the use of his best puppy eyes, he convinced you to try.
he decides to buy a small stuffed sheep and as you lie in bed one night, he starts an impromptu counting session. you giggle at the sight of him hopping the little sheep across the bed.
“i don’t think this is gonna work.” you hold back a laugh as he makes the sheep take a particularly long jump across your duvet.
“not even if he gives you a little kiss?” he asks, holding back his own giggle as he moves up to you on the bed, making the sheep “kiss” you all over your stomach.
you laugh at the ticklish sensation, and the two of you have to realise that the sheep counting feels more like a silly game than a serious attempt to help you sleep.
5. a cold bedroom
the last thing on oscar’s quickly disappearing list is sleeping in a cold room.
to make that happen, he insists on making the bedroom as cold as a freezer. he cranks up the air conditioning and piles extra blankets on the bed so you don’t freeze to death.
the room quickly becomes chilly, and you snuggle under the covers, head on oscar’s chest as his arms snake around you, trying to regain some body heat. you’re really hoping the cold will help you relax, but you find yourself shivering more than drifting off. the cold air makes you uncomfortable, and instead of helping, it only adds to your restlessness.
the 1 thing that actually did help
after trying numerous different methods, you’re ready to just give up.
“maybe i should go to the doctors,” you eventually suggest. you wish the problem would go away by itself, but it doesn’t seem like it will.
oscar finds himself running out of ideas too, until something dawns to him one night when he’s on facetime with his mom.
entering your bedroom with a book clutched tightly in his hand, you raise an eyebrow at him. “so mom just left to read to read my sister a bed time story, and i thought: why don’t i read to you as well?” he suggests.
you raise an eyebrow, skeptical at the suggestion but at this point you’re willing to try anything.
oscar shuffles across the bed, helping you adjust so your head is pressed against his thigh as he begins to read. his voice soft and steady, keeping a calm pace to his words and you can’t deny that it’s nice.
he plays with your hair as he reads, gently running his fingers through the strands and massaging your scalp. the combination of his calming voice and the soothing sensation of his touch begins to work its magic.
you feel your body relax, the tension melting away. his words become a comforting background noise and his fingers in your hair provide a gentle, rhythmic motion. for the first time in what feels like ages, you feel yourself drifting off, your eyelids growing heavy.
oscar continues reading until he hears your breathing deepen and become steady. he smiles, closing the book quietly and turning off the light, but he doesn’t move, terrified to wake you after you’ve finally found the peace you desperately needed.
sitting against the headboard starts hurting his back, but he still stays beside you, his hand continuously playing with your hair, ensuring you stay asleep.
as the nights go by, oscar’s bedtime stories and hair-playing become your new routine. you find yourself looking forward to bedtime, knowing that sleep is no longer a battle but a peaceful journey.
in the end, it’s not the gadgets or apps that help you sleep, but instead oscar’s gentle presence and unwavering support. his love is your ultimate lullaby, guiding you into the restful sleep you’ve been longing for.
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coolshadowtwins · 9 months ago
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PIDW!YQY goes back in time to his disciple days after he dies. He’s alone and upset, and determined to do things right this time. He won’t take a sword too early, but he will still rush to go save SJ because that has to fix something, right?
At least this time he already knows how to read and write, and the basics of cultivating. Everyone is heralding him as a prodigy, and as soon as his child body is ready, he’s taking a sword to go save SJ.
Except there is one other thing he needs to do. He can leave most of his future sect siblings alone to do their thing, and catch up with them later. There’s no point in interfering with something that doesn’t need his help. But! That slimy traitor Shang Qinghua!
He caused so many problems for them. YQY did not want him as a head disciple of An Ding, or as the peak lord, so he goes to do something about it.
Only
 Did SQH always act like that? Was he always so nervous? YQY watched him almost cry as an older disciple shoved work onto him, instead of glaring and backstabbing them later. What had happened to him over the years?
What is actually happening is that YQY had known OG!SQH and this is Airplane. Completely different people! But YQY doesn’t know that, and can only assume that SQH betrayed the sect after years and years of hardship! And YQY is selfish, and very SJ focused, but even he isn’t so much of a hypocrite as to condemn SQH for something he wouldn’t condemn SJ for.
So he goes and befriends him. Mostly to keep an eye on him, and to stop him from being a traitor, but still. Meanwhile, SQH is shocked and confused why the future sect leader is even talking to him?? And what to be his friend?? He didn’t really have much of those, and maybe he liked the company, but he knew what was to happen! What was the point in getting close to YQY only to watch him suffer?
Wow, screw that. SQH pulls some strings and goes up to YQY one day and says, “Wow! Look! A mission, for us, two young disciples without swords, days away! Won’t this be fun?!”
YQY stared at the mission sheet, which looks entirely authentic, blankly. It takes them right to the town that he had left SJ in. “Where did you get this?”
“My Shizun.”
“
.”
“
.your Shizun?”
“
”
“Uhg, find. I might have forged it. For a vacation? It’ll be fun.”
It was not fun. But they got SJ back and ran for it and made it back to the sect in good time. Their shizun’s were upset, but they couldn’t find a way that the mission could have been forged because it was that good. YQY was suddenly glad to have SQH on his side, and is now completely convinced that he had seer powers.
Maybe that was why he joined the demons last time? Years of abuse at the sect, and knowledge that demons would win? YQY hates it, but is only more determined to keep SQH as a friend. He starts laying hints that if SQH ever meets a demon, that YQY would like to know about it! He’ll be less made if he was told, as opposed to finding out later, promise!
SJ, for his part, can tell what YQY is doing to a point. He’s just glad that YQY has actually started manipulating people to his advantage. His Qi-Ge is really growning up.
Don’t ask me what happens what SQH does come up to YQY to tell him about MBJ. I haven’t thought that far lol
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blessedarethebinarybreakers · 1 year ago
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This post used to hold a poem inspired by the Rev. Munther Isaac's declaration that "God is under the rubble in Gaza."
After a few anons and a conversation with a Jewish friend, I've decided to take the poem down because, regardless of my own intentions with it, it risks feeding the long and extremely harmful history of blood libel, because I included imagery of the infant Jesus and his parents being killed by an Israeli soldier, as many Palestinians are being killed now.
Before talking with that friend, I wrote in this response to an anon about my intentions with the poem — but while I do believe that intentions do matter, they don't matter nearly as much as impact does.
My friend helped me come to the conclusion that while the poem I wrote could be interpreted as I intended by people who already have all the context I wrote it in (see below), it could also all too easily be interpreted much more harmfully by those who lack that context — or worse, who are looking for more fuel for their antisemitism. The poem is not worth that risk, not at all.
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Ultimately, I hold two things I believe to be true in tension:
that Christians throughout the ages have found deep comfort and encouragement in understanding Jesus as suffering in and with them. I support all Christian Palestinians who, like Rev. Isaac, experience God-with-them in this way — in this horrific time, they deserve any ounce of comfort they can derive. And them personally seeking and finding the Divine presence with them is not antisemitic.
that for Christians like myself in the USA, who live in the beating heart of Empire and Christian Supremacy, it is vital to take care in how we talk about this theology in this current situation, where the oppressors are Jewish. Providing more fuel for Christian antisemitism is inexcusable, and I deeply apologize for writing and sharing a piece that can be used in that way.
Because modern-day Israel is a Jewish state, exploring that Divine solidarity in this context comes with a great risk of perpetuating the long, harmful history of antisemitic blood libel and accusations of deicide. How do we affirm God’s presence with those suffering in Palestine without (implicitly or explicitly) adding to the poisonous lie that “the Jews killed Jesus”?
In wrestling with this complexity, I tried to write this poem to uplift both Jesus’s Jewishness and his solidarity with Palestinians. Jesus was born into a Jewish family, his entire worldview was shaped by his Jewishness, and he shared in his people’s suffering under the Roman Empire. His solidarity with Palestinians of various faiths suffering today does not erase that Jewishness. Nor does it mean that Jewish persons don’t “belong” in the region — only that modern Israel’s occupation of Palestine is in no way necessary for Jews to live and thrive there, or anywhere else in the world.
I also aimed to point out that Israel is by no means acting alone in this attack on Gaza or their decades-long occupation of Palestine. There is a much larger Empire at work, with my own country, the United States, at the helm. Israel is entangled in that imperial mess, and directly backed and funded by those forces — not because of what politicians claim, that we have to back Israel or else we’re antisemitic, but because Israel is our strategic foothold in the so-called Middle East. How do we name our complicity as our tax dollars are funneled into violence across the world, and act to end that violence?
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I'm sorry this post isn't as articulate as I want it to be. All of this to say: I deeply apologize for any hurt my poem caused. I understand how horrific Christianity's history of — and ongoing present — antisemitism is, and how it poisons and warps so much that could have been beautiful. I'll keep educating myself; I'll keep having hard conversations; I'll keep working to uproot antisemitism in myself and my communities.
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I'll close with a list of resources for learning about Palestine's history and getting involved.
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