#i just write it here bc i don't want to bother people by saying the same thing over and over and over

[leclarifies]

i love you. it's ruining my life. (MV33)

✰ max verstappen x popstar!ex!reader ✰

summary: you and max have been broken up for four years now, going no contact for the entirety of those years. never bothering to contact eachother but he invites you to one of his races one day after the last show of your tour, who were you to say no?

genre: angst (im sorry)

wc: 3k

a/n: AHHH, THIS WAS WAS A DOOZY!!!!! i loved writing this (i mostly just like hurting myself more than anything). kind of dark themes tho, ooc max bc he vvv loving and would never cheat on his lover. thank you so much for 100 followers btw!!!!!! i wrote this as a 100 follower special :3 thank you so much for my supporting my short journey as a tumblr writer, you guys inspire me to write even more for you guys. can you imagine that's it's been a week of writing and i've already gained 100 followers?? i love you guys so much.

warnings: mentions of existing relationship with kelly, cheating

"thought of calling ya, but you won't pick up. another fortnight lost in america." - taylor swift, 'fortnight'

isn't it ironic that careers can really separate you from what truly made you, you? being a popstar, touring for months on end, surrounding yourself with new people, new opportunities, made it hard for you to reconnect with the people that helped you from day one.

it wasn't like you cut them off, or stopped talking to them. you tried. you really tried, but sometimes life goes on and people forgive and forget. your old life before you started your career was slowly being etched away and replaced with new pieces.

and maybe that was a bad thing.

"on stage in 2 minutes," a voice snapped you out of your trance, you looked up. you looked amazing in your sparkly dress, it was the last leg of your tour and you were touring in europe.

you had been offered to attend a formula one race this weekend after all of your shows had been concluded, you've been thinking about it, but you're not sure you want to go. one of the people from said past was in attendance and you're not sure if you wanted to immerse yourself in that again.

you didn't think about it for long though, you were due for a show and a show was what you're going to give.

it wasn't long until the weekend, friday to be exact and you had accepted the offer of being on the formula one paddock, you knew that a certain ex-boyfriend was going to be there, racing on the track and you were invited personally by him, which was why you were so skeptical to go.

POPSTAR Y/N BREAKS UP WITH F1 DRIVER MAX VERSTAPPEN.

you remembered the headlines, you remembered what you let go of but seeing someone you still loved after your break up almost four years ago stung a little bit.

you couldn't blame him though, you were the one to break things off all those years ago. it wasn't because you had a terrible relationship with him, but it was more because you both didn't have time for eachother and you could see it in his face everytime you came home to monaco after a long show.

"i miss you, when can you finally stay and actually stay awhile?" max's face looked pitiful and you could only look down at your feet, you felt guilty. you wanted this career, he pushed you for this career but sometimes you wished that you could split yourself in two to cater to both his needs and yours.

you look back up at him, locking eyes with his stormy blue eyes, "i don't know maxie, maybe next month? i don't really have a schedule for next month, i can stay in monaco with you for awhile—"

"you said that last month, when are you actually going to be free schatje?"

"max, i can't give you a definite timeline—"

"what's the point of me being in a relationship with you when i can barely see you?"

it hurt to hear those words come out of his mouth.

maybe that's when you finally realized that he deserved someone normal, someone who wasn't a famous singer and could actually spend time and be there for him.

but here you were, amidst the paddock with a singular security guard because you didn't think you needed more than one, considering security around the paddock was tight in of itself.

the red bull's garage had been nice to you, offering you anything you possibly could need while being on a grand prix, you had politely declined any type of special treatment though, wanting to feel like a person for once in your life.

you wouldn't say your job is the hardest in the world, never. doing what you loved while meeting all of your fans was going to be the highlight of your day, but sometimes the job came with crazy fans that would invade your privacy for selfish reasons, and it made you a tiny bit stressed.

you remember starting out from the netherlands, starring in small gigs before getting signed to a mega corporation in america, which was when you moved. you slowly lost contact with your friends, but you were sure they were proud of you although you weren't proud that you lost contact with them.

you knew that if you contacted them that it would be awkward, there was just no way they would even remember you, right?

you were walking about aimlessly around the paddock, it was free practice day which meant that after the allotted time of the free practice, drivers were free to roam around the paddock however they wanted. you were scared on what you had to face today.

you told yourself to just keep calm, take whatever you got this weekend and just react like a sane person.

saturday came and went, you attended the paddock to watch the qualifying session, of course, max came out on top. was it even a surprise to you? you knew he was the best of the best, you never expected less of him, even after all these years.

sunday was here and maybe it was the anxiety, but you felt like throwing up when you saw max approach you.

"y/n, it's good to see you."

god, those eye-smiles. you could never get tired of them.

"hi max, congrats on starting out pole for this weekend," you told him as you shook hands with him, he was all smiles.

it felt good to see him happy.

"how has the paddock been treating you?" max asked, gesturing all around him, "have you tried the food? it's really good."

you nod as you let go of his hand, clasping it with your other hand, a nervous habit, "yeah, the food's good. how have you been? i haven't talked to you in awhile," a nervous laugh bubbled up from your throat, you were nervous to see him, maybe it was those damn butterflies in your stomach that you couldn't get rid of when he looked at you with those blue eyes of his.

"i know, you've been quite busy right?" max laughed at you, he felt silly conversing with his ex-girlfriend like this, like they didn't have a past.

you could only nod and smile back at him, shoulders tense, "yeah, touring's been eventful. it's the last leg of the tour so i decided to come, thank you for the invite by the way, i really appreciate—"

"max, who's this?" a voice came from behind you, quite condescending if you did say so yourself, cutting you off, you turned your head around to see his girlfriend and his girlfriend's child coming into view, walking towards max and wrapping max with her arm as a possessive embrace.

max kissed her cheek, and that hurt. you didn't want to know why, but you knew. he spoke up afterwards, "this is y/n, she's a singer. i wanted her to come because she had a show here, thought the timing was quite convenient for her. y/n, this is my girlfriend, kelly piquet. she's a model."

you extended your hand as a form of hello before introducing yourself, "hello, i'm y/n—"

"yeah, i know who you are," kelly cut you off again, you were quite taken aback by the hostility, your hand left hanging but then again, max was talking to one of his ex-girlfriends. you thought you would react the same way, so you didn't take it too much to heart. her face was something you'd describe as an angry, possessive tiger, brows furrowed, frown on full display.

"i didn't mean to take time away from your boyfriend. i was just having a little chat pre-race," you tried to give her a smile while returning your hand back to your side, but kelly was adamant about standing her ground.

little penelope was looking at you like she had stars in her eyes, you smiled at her. as if it was a sign of whether she should speak up, she starting speaking to you directly, "hi, i really love your songs. do you think you can stay in the red bull garage and we can take pictures together?"

you giggle and bend down to her level and pat her head, "hi little p, of course we can take pictures together— that's if your mother lets me," you acknowledged that this little girl was no ordinary little girl and was your ex-boyfriend's girlfriend's child.

"can we all talk in private please?" kelly excused the three of them away before you could even give her a response but you understood her. standing back up before walking off deeper into the paddock.

MAX'S POV

"i don't understand why you would invite her!" kelly was pacing around the motorhome, here we were fifteen minutes before race start and here my girlfriend was still yelling over something that happened two hours ago.

"kelly, i just thought it was a good idea. i wanted to invite her because i know p was such a big fan of hers—"

"she's your ex for god's sake, max!" kelly yelled out yet again, "why would i ever approve of her coming to one of your races? let alone be near to p??" her pacing was more feverish now, like she was scared.

i could only sigh, honestly i wasn't too worried about this problem at the moment. the only thing on my mind was the race and only the race.

"look, can we talk about this when i've finished with my race? i really need to focus and you keeping me locked up in here isn't going to help with it," i stood up from my seat, i didn't want to hear anything else come out of her mouth other than a 'okay' and letting me walk out of here.

"don't you think our relationship is at stake here—?"

"if you don't let me go out into the garage, then we're nothing kelly," i say with finality, i wasn't going to let her ruin a race, "i told you, we will solve and talk about this issue later, but you chose to lock me up in here. there will be nothing to salvage if you don't let me do my job."

kelly wordlessly stepped out of the way of the door and let me go, thankfully just with enough time where i could run down and get into the garage, getting me in racing gear.

thankfully the red bull mechanics and officials were understanding enough to let me rush and get inside of my car, getting into the chasis just at the right moment where we would need to drive out.

it was going to be a fine race for me. i knew it. i had enough confidence in myself to know whether i could win a race, and this was one of them.

"and that's p1 max, great race," gp was in my ear, i was proud of myself for winning, but kelly was gnawing the back of my mind. although, the first face i saw when i got out of the car was y/n's.

it felt like my heart stopped beating, i thought i got rid of those stupid butterflies ages ago, but nothing ever beat seeing her smile after i finished a race. she looked so beautiful, so ethereal but i washed those thoughts out of my head.

i had a girlfriend.

i can't run up and hug her because she's my ex. i have a loving relationship in front of me. what was i thinking?

kelly was nowhere to be found in the celebratory pit, i thought that maybe she was still too angry to face me at the moment. it stung a little bit, but she'll get over it. i'm sure.

the night moves on fast, and somehow i found myself still in the garage fixing a few things with the sim, most of the mechanics and staff were long gone. with kelly nowhere to be found. sometimes i felt bad, for still harboring feelings for an ex that left me four years ago.

my relationship with her felt so different with kelly's...

she was like fresh air you would breathe after exiting a club in the middle of the night, the smoke that clouded the air dissipating almost instantly after that fresh air hit your lungs. somehow, even four years later i still find her in little things i do everyday.

against my better judgement, i picked up my phone and i gave her a call.

"hello?"

i breathed out a sigh of relief when i realized she hadn't changed her phone number yet.

"it's me," were the words that left my lips, "you wanna come celebrate with me tonight?" i was picking on my jeans, i didn't want her to say no. i just wanted to spend a little time with her.

"what about your girlfriend? isn't she going to be even more upset with you—"

"can we not talk about her right now?" i closed my eyes and leaned back against the chair i was sitting on, hearing her voice again after a long time just... it felt right.

"max..."

"don't... just don't. i know what you're gonna say and i know it's wrong but i just... i can't do this today. i just won today and the first face i saw was yours, she didn't bother to show up. you can't tell me how to feel, y/n," i rubbed my temples, "meet me in the lobby of my hotel tonight. i just wanna see you."

"if i say okay, will this be a one-time thing?" y/n asked, i could hear the soft rustles of her moving things around, she was probably already in her hotel, resting from her tour when i had called.

"better yet, just drop the address of where you're staying. i'll come to you."

the first thing max did when he saw you was crash his lips into yours, you wanted to push him away, be the better person and tell him that he has a girlfriend but your arms couldn't do it.

your lips disconnected after awhile, he was breathing heavy, face flushed, hands all over you, "i've missed you."

you hum a response, you could barely get out a response when you feel his lips on yours again, this was wrong. all the alarms in your body were telling you to push him off, to yell at him, to reprimand him for basically cheating on his girlfriend.

but you didn't.

and maybe that made you a bad person, but at the moment you didn't care. you just wanted to feel him once more.

you woke up the next morning, cuddled up against max, both of you bare and indecent. he hadn't left yet, maybe he didn't want to leave.

the reality of last night crashed down onto you as you realized what you've done.

"max?"

"yes, schatje?"

the little nickname he gave you never went away. he used to call you that all the time but the feelings that came with it was no longer endearment but horror.

"you need to get back to your girlfriend, i don't think i can do this," you unwrap yourself from his grasps and sit up, back facing him, tears filling your eyes.

"woah, woah. schatje—"

"please, max. i feel like shit. you have a girlfriend and i just slept with you. last night was a mistake," you breathed out and hugged your knees close to your chest. you felt his hand on your back.

"y/n, what are you saying—" you cut him off before he could say anything else.

"i can't give you what you want max. we can't be together anymore. our story ended four years ago, please don't make this mistake. you're going to regret it," you quickly got up and away from his close proximity and got dressed.

you didn't know how to face him anymore.

"can we please talk about it at least? you can't lie and say that you don't feel the same way i do," max's voice came from behind you, you were pacing around the room, you were stressed. he was sitting there, shirtless with his pants on now.

"i do max! and that's the worst part because i knew you're in a relationship but i still let this happen. i am a horrible person. i love you and it's slowly ruining my life. i should've known better!" you turn around to face him, your face red, tears streaming down your face.

max could only sigh and raked a hand through his hair, "schatje..."

"we can't be together max, you know it. i can never give you what she gives you. she can be with you almost all the time max, you threw that all away for me? for someone who can't give you time of day?!" you sob into your hands.

you felt arms wrapping around you as you sob into his embrace.

MAX VERSTAPPEN BREAKS UP WITH GIRLFRIEND KELLY PIQUET ONLY AFTER A FEW MONTHS OF BEING TOGETHER.

you scroll past that headline as you got ready for your appearance to promote your new album, it came out two days ago and you were to debut the new songs on jimmy kimmel.

the tortured poets department.

you hadn't talked to max ever since that night, ever since he tenderly kissed your forehead and told you it was going to be okay and that he would figure it out. he had been blowing up your phone, asking to meet but you didn't have it in your heart to meet him after destroying his relationship like that.

that was two months ago.

you were due on stage in around an hour and that's where you would sing your heart out, leaving whatever pieces of your old self behind when you slept with max for the final time.

"i love you, it's ruining my life. i touched you for only a fortnight."

hello! thank u for reading this fic hehe, hope u guys enjoyed it. thank you again for 100 followers!!!!

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[onlythebravest]

-

[mikodaiyo]

I said things about @mythicamagic @cakeit0n @drosselmeyerwrites @chierafied @elevenharbor @sayuri-liu @cdart-carmendaniele @sagemcmae @tmetta and youkaiyume that I hid in the tags because I'm SHY I GUESS I'M CRAZY SHY??

Let's spread some love: tag your favorite people/bloggers and let them know how appreciated they are 💗

oh i hate these because i’m always afraid i’ll forget someone (but the sentiment is nice!)

@waywardbaby @supernatural-jackles @deanwanddamons @negans-lucille-tblr @lovealways-j @evanbukley @evansrogerskitten @nihilism-sophia @samdeanbitchjerk @kittenofdoomage @luci-in-trenchcoats @im-lovestruck

i feel like i’m forgetting people and i’m sorry if i actually did! love y’all ♥️

[churipu]

𐙚 THREE TIMES NANAMI MADE YOU CRY ⋆ ˚｡

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warning. referral to the reader as 'wife'

note. i just felt so mellow today — because a lot of sad nanami edits have been passing by in my fyp and i'm about to have a mental breakdown because of it, when i catch gege >:( a lil note, i cried writing this bcs i miss nanami so much help

✴ ONE : WHEN HE PROPOSED TO YOU

it took him a short time to realize that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you — he sees you cooking breakfast at the crack of dawn just for him before he goes to work, and he realizes that, yes, you were the one for him.

"do you want to marry me?"

your head turned to him slowly, eyes following just a few seconds after and you blinked, "i'm sorry, what?" you ask him.

nanami's eyes raised up to meet yours, "do you want to marry me?" he repeats his question calmly.

it was a day like every other — the both of you sitting on the couch, the television on yet nobody's paying attention to it. nanami has his eyes on the magazine in his grasp, and you were on your phone, scrolling through social media.

"yeah, of course i do."

nanami takes out a velvet colored box from his pocket and opens it up, you stared at him in confusion; wondering if this was a joke or not, is he actually proposing to you while you were in your pjs? but that actually didn't bother you — it was the fact he is proposing to you.

"marry me." he murmurs out softly, taking the beautiful ring out of its place, waiting for your acknowledgement.

your tears began flowing out and it took nanami by surprise, "sweetheart, i'm sorry. was it too sudden? you don't have to—" you shook your head at him, wiping your tears away.

"i'm just so . . . happy, ken."

that was the first time he made you cry.

✴ TWO : HIS WEDDING VOWS

your wedding was a simple ceremony. it was filled with fun and laughter, your loved people were there — his loved people were there, gojo and his students were there. it was just, a one fine day, really.

when it comes to the delivering of vows, traditionally; the groom goes first.

"y/n, i'm not good with my words, but you know me better than anyone else, so i assume you know that as well. we met five years ago when i bought a casse-croûte in a bakery you worked in; and if you had told me then that we'd be standing here and i'd be spending the rest of my life with you, maybe i wouldn't believe in you and told you that you were saying nonsense.

first and foremost, i would never thought that a one stop shop in a bakery would lead me to the love of my life — that day, i decided to stop by the bakery you worked in because my usual place was closed for the day, when i think about that, i get so overwhelmed; if my usual shop had opened that very day, maybe you would be standing here with another man, another man who is not me.

y/n, you are the most curious person i have ever met in my life. and i am pretty sure you are asking yourself now, what is kento thinking of right now? the answer is you. i am thinking about you now, later, and forever. from the first day you asked me if i liked casse-croûte, i have not once stopped thinking about you.

i was never a person who sought for relationship or thought of it a lot in the past, but when you came into my life. i began thinking of my future with you, making our own happy family, having kids, traveling the world, all of that. the moment i saw you take your time to wake up before me to cook me breakfast before i go to work, i knew i just had to make you my wife. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.

you love me and completed me in ways i do not know existed, and my love — i promise you, that from here onwards, i will continue to love you and every piece of you and for who you are yet to become. i promise to be your husband, your best friend, your partner in crime as you always like to name it, and your number one supporter, also as you name it.

above all, i promise to show you how lucky i am to have you in my life. i cannot wait to start a new chapter in my life with you, i love you."

it was safe to say that everyone in the room was crying, including you (and gojo, who had to be escorted out by megumi because the male was straight up sobbing loudly).

✴ THREE : WHEN HE DIED

shibuya. october 31, 2018. god, how much you dreaded every single thing that happened in there — just the thought of october coming after that year made your stomach churn in sadness.

the day a lot of people lost their life, including nanami.

nanami is a strong man, and you know so. you believed in him, never did you once stopped believing in your husband; but the whole time nanami was fighting for his and everyone's life in shibuya, you were back at home with your few months old son.

"daddy is going to be okay, yeah? he's gonna be back soon," you cooed to your son despite the rising wariness.

but no, nanami never came back.

the one to break the news was no other than itadori yuuji himself, the sole witness to your husband's passing — he knocked on your door, beaten up, although his wounds were tended to. you knew the shibuya incident scarred the young boy with something that couldn't be closed off now or maybe ever.

"he's not coming back, is he?" you ask the teen with a sad smile.

itadori broke down on your porch that day. and you, nanami's wife was the one comforting him, after all, watching someone you care die in front of you was traumatizing. but itadori blamed himself for nanami's death — he was baffled when you pulled him into a tight hug, "it's my fault y/n-san! i killed him. he's dead because of me."

as much as nanami doesn't display his affection to itadori, you were a witness to how nanami really feels towards the young boy. telling you how he wishes your son would grow up to be just like itadori, bubbly and energetic. nanami cares about itadori like the boy was his own — although failing to show it.

"did he . . . did he say anything before he . . ?"

itadori cried in your embrace, "he . . . said he was sorry. for not coming back. and that he loves you and your son so much . . ." itadori was barely taking breaths in, he was hyperventilating in your arms, "he said he was sorry that he won't be able to accompany you to malaysia."

"okay." you didn't cry as itadori was breaking the news to you, you couldn't.

nanami's death quieted you — you didn't cry the first week, still not believing he was actually gone. finding yourself sitting on the couch, waiting for the male to open the door and to call out for you, "y/n, i'm home."

but it never happened. nanami was really gone. he's really dead.

grief is such an odd feeling, you relied on itadori to look after your son for the first two weeks as you didn't find yourself in the right mind to be capable of taking care of your own flesh and blood. a day before your son was going back into your care — you went grocery shopping, to buy things both nanami and you used to buy.

it was a mistake on your part not to use a basket or a trolley, putting all the stuff on the cashier counter was hard work. and as the baby food you put on top of the pile slipped through your fingers and dropped onto the floor, splattering the contents everywhere, you can't help but to let a few stray tears out.

your silent sobs turning into a full blown breakdown in the middle of a grocery shop as everything began coming in, a reality check.

that nanami was no longer going to be there with you again, you couldn't feel him anymore, you couldn't hear him anymore, you couldn't smell his cologne anymore.

but the world doesn't stop for that, it will keep going and you had to go on with your life without him.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[withonly-sweetheart]

Fortune's Cookies

They aren't very sweet, especially when you're fooled into taking the first bite.

a/n: gosh there's literally so much rookie leon art going around and the fever got to me, hope you like my twist on this classic trope! honestly everyone listed below contributed to this with their rookie leon pieces, seriously i stared at them while writing it helps seriously.

@chesue00 - you KNOW it.

@faintfill - MY SOURCE OF ROOKIE LEON SKETCHES NO KIDDING

@uhlillie - i hope you know which one im talking about girl... DAMN

@bunnivievve - FOODDDDDDD just like i said rookie leon is served

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: cavity fluff i hope i needed to brush my teeth after writing this (probably because of all the panda express fortune cookies i ate while typing), angst bc duh and i think thats it?

wc: 7k

“Your voice will bring a smile today.”

That’s what greets you, printed in those horrible skinny red letters, paper curled in your fingers. The styrofoam boxes are dotted with grains of undercooked rice and steamed vegetables, a treat you knew you deserved after such a long day. 

And this is what fate tells you. Good thing you’ve never believed in superstition. You crumple the paper and toss it onto the tray and scoff.

Like you’ll take advice from a cookie.

But as the number of people in the store starts to dwindle, and the night shift employees trudge in through the back door, you wind up with your eyes glued to the message, wondering what kind of voice it referred to. 

It’s been a long time since your voice has brought anyone joy, hasn’t it? Your job mostly consists of reminding multiple colleagues of their deadlines, only to be promptly ignored. Your existence only comes back to their minds two minutes before their reports are due, when they forward a hastily written piece that you don’t bother to read.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” A hand waves dangerously close to your face, brushing your nose, and the contact is enough to startle you back, glaring up at the offender. Even with the harsh swinging lights stinging your eyes, you can see warm blue eyes and sunny hair. 

It feels as if the sky has descended to meet you.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mutter back in response, clearing your throat, waving your tied words away. “All good here.”

He shifts away from you, maybe mistaking your inward gesture as shooing him away. You think of saying something about him, about assuring him, but you wonder why you feel that way. "Oh. I, uh, saw you seemed distracted. Just wanted to make sure you're okay." 

You wince, acutely aware of your frazzled appearance after the long shift. "Thank you, but I'm fine. Just tired is all."

“That’s not good,” he notes with a small frown, leaning back to press his heels to the ground. “Did you eat well?”

“Do you fuss over all strangers?” you muse.

“Oh, well, uhm, I see you a lot here, not that I’m watching you, just that I noticed that you’re here, a lot, so I thought you must like food-” 

“You talk a lot.” You raise an eyebrow, trying to cut off his flustered stammering with your motion.

“That came out a lot worse than I’d imagined in my head,” he admits with a slight dip of his shoulders. “Sorry about that, I got nervous. I don't talk to many people… or, uh, women... so I tend to be a bit of a dumbass.”

Surprisingly, as shitty as you feel, a small smile graces the corner of your mouth.

“You’re honest, aren’t you?” 

“According to a lot of people… yeah.”

“I don’t think I caught your name earlier,” you say, eyes scanning his vivid outfit for a nametag. There, pinned to his apron like a defining feature of his. “Leon?”

“That’s me,” he replies proudly. “And I already know yours!”

“Sorry?”

“Your… name?” Leon puckers his bottom lip, as if scarring it with his teeth will take back the words hanging between you. “Sorry… like I said, I’ve seen you here a lot.”

And he smiles shyly.

You’re flushed the whole way home, thinking of that sweet little smile, the way his eyes crinkled, his fresh linen scent, how you forgot how to breathe. 

And your carefully built world topples over.

<><><><>

You never expected to look forward to the little messages in your fortune cookies, but you blame it on the fact you know Leon’s handing them to you, standing behind the counter in that cute little outfit. Even if he has no idea what’s in them, you can gaslight yourself into thinking he deliberately picks the ones complimenting your smile, or telling you how pretty your eyes look.

Of course, he can tell you that all himself. You sit shoulder to shoulder with him on the stools that you think are meant to be mocking bar stools, but they have barely any space between them, so you’re crammed together.

You wait for him to move away, to tell you to put some distance between you two, but nothing comes. You watch his profile, that handsome face eat cheap noodles when he really deserves so much better.

The lights dim as the last employee clocks out. It’s gotten so late that the crickets demand entrance, chirping their redundant sound, silencing as you walk past the slouching grass like plant that tickles your bare ankles as you walk back to your respective cars.

“Well,” he says, twisting the fabric of his shirt between his fingers, like he hasn’t been talking to you for the last two weeks. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you affirm, nodding. The grin that eats up his face is so infectious you can’t help but smile back.

The same smile drops from your face when you check your Uber texts, a system you’ve repeated so much over the last few months that it feels like second nature, but not very natural when you see that your driver had to back out of the deal at the last minute, suspiciously also taking your money with them, leaving you broke and without a ride. 

You stare at the small blue rectangle gripped in your fingers, heat rising to your face, realizing how stupid you must seem to the guy who must be pulling away right at this moment, and will he ever want to hang out with you again-

“Something wrong?” You hear his voice before you hear the knocks on his car roof, and he’s so tall that even at this distance you have to crane your neck to glower at him, and a lopsided smile overtakes his face.

“This isn’t fair,” you insist after explaining your situation, and the only response he gives is a slight shake of his head, as if exasperated. “I already paid all the money!”

“Crap, then something’s wrong,” he mumbles. “Do you usually always use all your money on the trip here?”

You falter. “Not usually.”

He arches a golden brow, a gate to your forthcoming confession. “Then…?”

“Well, I come out here to see you,” you admit quietly. “And then I go home.”

“Exactly how far away do you live?” His voice is smooth, but his expression reminds you of those times when your mother caught you doing something you shouldn’t be, doing something that shows how much you need that validation to survive.

“Not that far,” you assure, nodding your head, but you fail to convince the both of you. 

“Do you want a ride home?” he asks quietly, softly, as if the night might intrude on your conversation.

“That would be nice,” you reply in a hushed whisper, as if further backing up the idea that the moon is listening, lighting up your words, shining on his hair as you both clamber into his car.

He apologizes for the mess in his spotless car, and you assume it’s just a courtesy, but he goes on and on about how he needs to get his life together. You don’t pay attention to the words that come out of his mouth, just his mouth in general. The amount of times you’ve done this slips from your mind, just another irrelevant number in your life.

If his life is a mess, your life must be a heap of shit.

Your address tumbles past strangely parched lips, well, at least it did, a while ago. But the ride was far too short, and he pulls up in your driveway, a bewildered expression on his face, as if he can’t believe this is where you live; a humble, simple abode, just like all your neighbors.

“So, this is goodbye, then?”

“Not forever, I hope,” he whispers, voice breathy.

“Uh, okay then? But let’s meet somewhere that isn’t your place of work?”

You were joking when you said it, but it seems he doesn’t pick up on it. His eyes are dreamy and thoughtful on his drive back, and by the time he gets home, he has a plan.

He’s going to stun you.

<><><><>

“Well?”

Leon’s gone out of his way to please you. Everything you’ve said during your time together, those vague comments about your favorite type of cheese, your opinions on the amazingly random topics you’re always switching between, it’s all right there.

You hope it's a physical display of his love.

His heart is spread bare, on the checkered, classic pattern of red and white, starkly contrasting with the blades of grass that bear your combined weight, not one, but two, so closely conjoined that you feel more at ease than you have in years.

You share a smile as you indulge in the simple yet delightful cucumber sandwiches, savoring each bite as you bask in each other's company. In the far distance, birds chirp, serenading you both, as if a soundtrack to these moments that seem to tick by faster than they should.

Leon's eyes meet yours, a softness in his gaze that speaks volumes. Time slows, encapsulating you both, a delicious freedom licking up your spine.

“Didn’t know you could cook,” you remark, wiping your face with a napkin, feeling content as you lean back, lying your head on your palms.

He mirrors your action, although his head twists to meet you, eyes sparkling. “I wouldn’t be working at a restaurant if I didn’t know a few things, right?”

“Guess so.” You shrug and the afternoon wears on, the park imaginative and alive with the children that race around the playground, darting like minnows through the swings and slides.

If you had met Leon in your childhood, would things have been different? Would you still be where you are today, arms brushing, only held apart by the barrier of remains scattered between you both, a battlefield of scarred napkins and damaged plastic utensils, a war fought to keep you separate.

He is caring and decisive and rational, the most reliable person you know, and you faintly register it’s been half a year, and you haven’t progressed any further with each other. The battle has come to a standstill, and neither side dares to make a move.

You think that half the problem lies not with you, but with Leon, and what he does with all his free time. He’s not the type to laze around; you think you know him well enough to make that assumption, but you aren’t sure anymore.

Cue example one: the mysterious phone calls that have begun to grow in frequency, the ones that always sour Leon’s mood, leave him sullen and unfriendly to talk to. Eventually, you grow tired of his monosyllabic answers, and make your absence known, still wondering what goes on in his life.

With a furrowed brow, he glances at the caller ID, his expression tightening with concern. You watch as his once-relaxed posture stiffens with some unseen burden. With a sigh, he excuses himself to take the call, leaving you momentarily alone with your thoughts.

You can sense the tension tinging the area, Leon’s clenched jaw betraying the stress he tries to conceal as he stalks back to you, shoving his phone into his pocket, evidently agitated.

“You don’t need a ride home, do you?” His voice contrasts his request; he obviously isn’t in the mood to drive you home. 

“I’ll get a cab.” You shake your head, not wanting to be the instrument he releases all that pent up anger on.

He casts a shadow over you, standing tall and easy, in the dying sun he looks like a dying angel, his eyes soft and sad, skin begging to be touched. And while you want nothing more than to reach out and caress his cheek, tell him it’ll be okay, kiss his troubles away, you don’t know what you are right now.

Friends? Would a friend do that? So you offer him a supportive smile, trying not to seem deliberate, and amidst the fading light of the park and the cooling breeze that accompanies you back to your divided lives, you already regret it, watching Leon speed off, just a distant thought in your memory. 

You should trust your gut more often.

<><><><>

As the car glides through the shadowy city streets, you catch sight of the new monument in the distance, the one Leon must’ve told you about. Surprising yourself, you decide to take a spontaneous detour. You tap your driver on the shoulder, and she smiles encouragingly. For the most part, the drive was silent, but you don’t mind her soft voice explaining the history behind why they decided to construct it in the first place.

She pulls around the corner, approaching the area near the monument, but the statue quickly is pushed to the back of your mind. It’s the flashing police lights and a sense of urgency in the air that catches your attention. A crime scene tape cordons off the area, and officers are stopping all vehicles passing through.

A stern-faced cop approaches your cab and instructs you both to step out. The driver uneasily abandons her car where it’s parked, then weaves through the forming crowd effortlessly, as if she’s gotten used to the downtown mobs of people.

You, however, barely come to this side of the town, where the city lights are always attacking your eyes that are comfortable with the soft sunset across the farm, where the people are always knocking against each other like clumsy goats, everyone bustling with a purpose.

As you also try your best to push your way through the throng, a knot forms in your stomach at the sight that greets you in the center of the commotion. The blood reaches up to where your footsteps falter, where everyone steps back to avoid staining their footwear.

Splatters of crimson paint a macabre picture that sends a shiver down your spine. The wail of sirens pierces the night, flaring lights casting an eerie glow that dances like amethyst flames, illuminating the limp body that uniformed figures crouch near.

And one of those figures, someone you’d never expect at the grim scene of a murder, is Leon, his unfamiliar stony expression cast in a stark light against the backdrop of chaos.

You draw closer, questions threatening to unravel the fabric of your reality, steeling yourself for the confrontation, because you thought you were close to him, a person he could trust. Was that such a silly thought? To think that you might have had something?

Apparently it was.

“Leon?” you demand, pressing yourself into the caution tape, warning bells ringing in your mind at the neon yellow bending to your will against your stomach.

“What?” He glances up and around, scanning the entire world until his eyes land on yours, going wide slightly, and his position stumbles, as if his legs give way.

“Get up, rookie,” another cop barks. “Focus! And you, stop distracting him!” Someone bats at your face, but you just sidestep the blow and storm closer, in the tension of the moment.

If you had just a speck of your sense at the time, you might’ve forced yourself to step away, to take a few calming deep breaths, but seeing his face dappled in such an unnatural light, to see his warmth be taken away to something that’s real, something like a life gone. 

You always saw him as your solace, away from your life, something that was unreal, just for you. You forget to see him as a being of his own, with feelings of his own. And sadly, you don’t know the difference between impulsive and intrusive. 

You’re surprised when Leon rises to meet your eyes, albeit it only lasts for a moment until he’s towering over you again, and there’s a sense of authority there that wasn’t there before, eyes strict and narrowed.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he says, in such a final tone it doesn’t occur to you that you could argue back. But his voice, a splinter of your Leon, the one you know, slips through. “I promise.”

So you stand back, near the patrol cars, their wails ratting your skull, but you grit your teeth and force yourself through it, eyes directed on Leon. It’s a while before the crowd clears, presumably because the idea of a murder is enticing until they see how long it truly takes, as compared to television.

But you stand there, leaning against the side of the car that you know is Leon’s, recognizing it as the one that you’ve rode in so many times, and you wonder why he’s taken a fragment of your time here, to this place outside of your relationship.

Eventually, Leon makes frantic motions to the top of the monument, stretching to the sky before gesturing back to the body, and everyone around him offers a pensive expression and solemn nods before someone calls out something you can’t hear.

The sirens die down immediately, and everyone claps Leon on the back. He flushes and stumbles with them to the cars, and you promptly ignore everyone’s gaze on you as he approaches. But there’s someone with him. 

Feline eyes meet yours, an arm draped over his shoulder, competitive expression and this mysterious woman and Leon saunter over to you. She’s dressed in a long, beige trench coat, and her black sunglasses rest low on her nose, perched just right so that she can lift her face to offer you the most cursory of glances before turning away.

And she has the audacity to peck Leon on the cheek before she gives you a smug smile with the side of her face that only you can see before waving goodbye, somehow gracefully, and stalking away to what you assume is a fancy sports car.

“Look, I know you have a lot of questions.” Leon holds up his hands in defense, before grinning, and involuntarily, you feel the corner of your mouth quirk upwards.

“Lot of is an understatement,” you grumble.

“Talk over dinner?” he offers.

“Is this you trying to impress me?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Is it working?”

<><><><>

“Right, and you didn’t think telling me you were a fucking cop was important?” Your spring roll is devastated, its insides spilling everywhere on your plate, bits of cabbage and carrot dotting the cardboard.

“I didn’t think it would change anything between us,” he mumbles. “So what difference would it make?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” You push away from the table, and his eyes follow you when you stand up, and his actions seem to come naturally, as an instinct, when he trails you across the empty store.

“You know what it means!” he protests.

“Maybe I don’t, Leon, so maybe you should explain,” you retort. “Explain why you thought it was okay to lead me on like that, all this time, when you have a girlfriend! Which one of us are you really cheating on?”

“What?” Now he looks genuinely confused, and his confusion seems to spark some doubt in your own defense, breaking down your sure walls. “Girlfriend? Cheating?”

His eyes are glazed over with tears, and if he starts crying, you’re not sure what you’ll do. You take a step closer, but now he’s the one to recoil away, shaking his head, wiping his eyes.

Leon inhales sharply. “How could you say something like that? I told you when we met, I’m not… not very good with these kinds of things.”

“But she-”

“Kissed me?” He scoffs. “Yeah, right. Like your mother’s never kissed you goodnight.”

You misread everything. That smug smile was her approval, on those curved lips, those narrowed eyes that were… well, just always narrowed. How could you get something so wrong?

"I... I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "I didn't know... I thought..." Your words falter as you struggle to find the right ones to express the whirlwind of relief, a gust of skittish butterflies pattering against the walls of your stomach, trying to find release.

"I should have been honest from the start," he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. "My job… it can hurt people. You saw. I want to keep you safe."

“You’re not mad?” you ask quietly.

Leon's eyes twinkle with a hint of mischief as he responds, "How could I ever be mad at this cute little face?" He playfully puffs your cheeks together, a gesture meant to be endearing.

Before you can fully process his teasing remark, Leon's demeanor shifts once again, his voice lower and more intimate as he adds, "Or... these lips." And with a sudden, decisive move, he leans in and presses a tender kiss against your lips.

And your fragile world topples over.

Again.

<><><><>

Leon never ceases to surprise you, that much you can definitely expect. You shut your computer, ready for your lunch break, when someone calls your name from the lower floor. That much you’ve come to expect, but while you’re gathering your belongings, someone else calls out something else.

“Hey, hurry up! Don’t keep your boyfriend waiting!”

To say you stumbled would be nice. You somehow manage to trip over the arm of the chair, end up with all your papers fluttering to the ground, but you ignore the mess and file it away for later, trying to tame your hair (an impossible feat in three seconds) as you storm down the stairs.

Your heels click on the tiles as you make your descent as graceful as can be, minus that one part where you trip and lurch forward before gripping the hand railing for safety. You see him standing at the entrance, talking to the receptionist guy, a box nestled between his arms. 

“Doughnuts?” you ask, staring at the box enticingly, recognizing the bright pink and rainbow sprinkles from your childhood. 

“Got some free time,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your nose before opening the box. It seems that you really have everyone’s attention now. “And coupons!”

You toss him a shit eating grin to show your returned affection before immediately curling your fingers around a glazed doughnut. And eventually, once the first person timidly approaches, quietly asking if they could maybe have one, Leon beams.

“I brought enough for everyone!” he proclaims, and he steps to the side to reveal three similar boxes, all presumably stocked with the same doughnuts.

“Looks like you’re an office favorite now, huh?” you tease, nudging him with your elbow. He shifts from your impact and returns the gesture, in the process of doing so smears chocolate frosting on the underside of his nose.

“I’ll always be your favorite officer though, right?” he jokes in response.

You don’t respond, you’re too busy staring at that one smear of cocoa against his skin, and suddenly you’re itching for a napkin, so you twist over your shoulder to grab one.

“Righ-” His echo is muffled by the napkin stuffed into his mouth as you gently dab at the area, squinting your eyes. 

“Yeah, of course, totally,” you mumble absentmindedly, satisfied with your efforts. You take the excuse a little further just to stare at his amused expression, the quirk of his brow, the tilt of his eyes softening.

Your colleagues will never let you hear the end of this.

Either way, since he’s on break and he’s on the manager’s good side, bribing her with a few Boston Cream doughnuts, she allows him to hop upstairs with you.

“So, if you’re a cop,” you ask while rubbing hand sanitizer into your palms. “Why’re you working at Panda Express?”

“They lowered the income rate for the citizens of Raccoon City, including the police force,” he grumbles, swinging his legs from where he’s perched on the side of your desk. “Which I think is totally stupid!”

“So you think you shouldn’t have applied at all?” you query further.

“Well, honestly? I’m glad I applied,” he admits, and at your questioning expression, continues, “I wouldn’t have met you.”

“Hooray, taxes,” you say numbly, flipping through the giant stack of papers left on your desk, all jumbled up from your earlier mishap.

“Hooray, taxes, indeed,” he agrees.

“I was being sarcastic.” Leon scoffs, twisting over his shoulder to lean down and meet your lips. When he pulls away, there’s an endearing yet mocking look in his eyes.

“I’m not that stupid.”

<><><><>

Nothing happens that day, you don’t see a black cat anywhere, you don’t walk under any ladders, and if you do walk on cracks, well, you do that every day, so your luck must always be this horrible, right?

You’ve somehow scored this moonlit masterpiece strolling beside you, a being born from the clouds, so maybe you’re not all that unlucky.

Usually, you get a warning when bad things happen. But all you can feel is the jittery, warm feeling that you get when you’re brushing hands with Leon, trying to bring him closer to you. You think he notices, and doesn’t say anything.

You invite yourself into his car, but the first of many problems to come arrives in the form of water that splashes on Leon’s face, just above his eyebrow, and he quickly slides into his seat.

You absently brush the area, admiring his hair, his boyish qualities, and suddenly wonder if he’s always looked this young. Far too innocent for the world.

“It’s nice in here,” you offer.

He sinks back into the seat with a gentle, relaxed smile. "Well, either way, get comfortable. Looks like we’re expecting rain.”

You nod, legs unsteady, and find yourself nestled in leather beside his cologne-scented form. The engine hums to life, and he shifts gears, pulling onto the road as traffic flees.

He glances over, moonlight caressing sculpted cheeks. "What’s wrong?"

“Do you have any water?” He gestures to the water bottle in the cupholder on his left side, on the driver’s door. Your knees knock against each other as you reach over to grasp it, ducking under his outstretched arms, averting your eyes to your right rather than the other direction.

“Can I…?” You gesture to the bottle. “Or should I just like, you know, waterfall, or whatever-”

“We’ve literally exchanged saliva,” he states bluntly. “I don’t think I have a problem with you drinking from my water bottle.”

“Ugh, you weirdo.” But you’re the one drinking like a starved woman, which you suppose that you are, but that of which you’re really dragging your gaze over isn’t the water.

And you suppose, logically, Leon’s 70% water.

Water that evaporates under the heat of your eyes, drifting up to the previously cloudless sky, forming puffs of sorrow that cry back down to you, tears slamming against the windshield. You ponder how he can even see the road through the downpour.

Eventually, after grumbling under his breath, Leon pulls over, gazing into your upturned face with a question in his eyes, older than his years.

“Would you, uhm, mind if we just went to my place? It’s closer anyways, and I don’t want to risk driving any further than I have to in these conditions…”

You smile, and he can see your answer woven in your eyes.

<><><><>

Leon forgot to mention his (adoptive) parents live right next door. So of course, when they’re just out and about casually watching him through the door camera, they might just happen to say a dashing young lady walk out of his car.

And said young lady is unfamiliar to these judging, supreme figures that must decide Leon’s fate for him, because he’s just a boy. Their precious little baby.

So that’s what you assumed happened when Leon’s parents clambered out of their door, calling for you to wait, his mother pulling her cardigan around herself tighter against the chill.

And now here you are, facing two people that, no offense, look nothing like the man seated next to you, fingers entwined, foot tapping out a nervous beat on the wooden floor.

“So, darling, how’s work going?” Another placeholder question for what she really wants to know: how much do you make in a year? Do you have a degree? Did you even finish high school?

You respond with everything they must want to hear, like those questions on the backs of those 2000’s magazines with the answer that’s always right, the one that has the perfect amount of sense in it, the Goldilocks rule.

Goldilocks must have been gobbled up by the bears this night, because every answer seems to deepen the furrow forming between their brows, as if they’re in sync, and you wonder how you can manage to screw up something that should be simple.

Meeting the parents, check. What’s next, falling into the cake at the wedding? You must be planning too far ahead judging by their unimpressed looks.

“Mom,” Leon groans. “Cut it out!”

“I’m just getting to know her, sweetie,” she replies sweetly, voice dripping like molasses, and you can tell there’s a lot more she’s keeping behind her tongue. "Well, dear, do you have any hobbies or interests you're passionate about?"

"Oh, I just love cooking!" you exclaim, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up your face. Maybe you’ve finally found something to impress them with.

Leon's father leans in, his interest piqued. "What kind of dishes do you enjoy cooking?" he asks, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

"I love trying out new recipes from different cuisines," you reply, your excitement palpable. "Right now I’m learning how to cook Thai cuisine!"

Leon's mother nods, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Cooking is such a beautiful art form," she muses, her face softening. "It's wonderful to see someone so passionate about creating delicious meals. Someone who can share that love with our son."

You wonder if any other girl had waltzed along, marveled at cooking with them, would they have dropped their judging character immediately, just as they had with you?

You suppose it’s a mystery you don’t need to solve.

Besides, you don’t have to worry about facades with Leon.

Of course not.

But you do wonder why he hasn’t touched any of the food.

<><><><>

You sit back, sly fingers curved around the tender flesh of his waist, pressing your head further into the crook of his arm. You watch his chest rise and fall like the arrival and departure of the sun, bringing you warmth under the blanket that restricts your movements, tucked in around you like a burrito.

He must be hot, you realize, he’s sweltering under the blanket, but when you offer to turn on the overhead fan, he shivers like he’s cold at the same time and shakes his head.

In moments of silence, you catch glimpses of a far off-look in his eyes, a horror movie long forgotten, as if his thoughts have wandered to a place you can’t reach. There’s shadows of things he doesn’t say, things you know he wants to say.

“Hey, are you good?” You shift your weight to look up at him, where you might’ve found yourself admiring the curve of his chin, or his dappled skin, but now you only feel concern.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, mouth stretching in a yawn. “My new case is taking a bit longer than I’d hoped.”

“Mhm?” you press gently, wanting to get more clarity on the situation without seeming nosy. His response is delayed, a different, pitiful expression grappling to take hold.

“Oh… the, uhm, pharmaceutical company? Something that has to do with… was it rain?” Leon shakes his head, clicking his tongue in the back of his throat. “You know what? Forget it. Tonight’s our night.”

He says ‘our’, but he pays you little to no attention for the next three hours. 

Your first thought is that you're boring him. Have you already become so insufferable that he doesn’t want to hang out with you anymore? You had expected it, of course, you’re not a very animated person, but he loved you, didn't he?

Leon’s gone quiet, silent, like he’s back in that box in his mind you can never seem to pierce. The light that used to dance in his eyes now flickers dimly, like a fading ember struggling to hold onto its warmth.

He carries himself with the same grace and poise, like a practiced act to a play you weren’t a part of, and you can’t push it away anymore. But of course, as all things in your life seem to follow, when you finally find yourself gaining the courage to confront him, he's gone.

<><><><>

Missing. And no one knows where he is. And some part of you blames yourself, you obviously must've scared him away.

“You know what’s wrong!” You bite your tongue to keep you from raising your volume, not so much fearing the fish beneath you but the woman leaning against the shipping containers, scrutinizing slender nails with feigned boredom.

If Leon trusts her, she should hear your first plea. She knows him better than you do, much to your dismay, but it could work out in your favor currently.

Her expression remains stony.

"Please," you beg, and a sliver of emotion slips through that mask- confusion? "Help me save Leon. I know you care for him, even if you can't show it."

Her crimson lips quirk. "I have… undisclosed reasons for ensuring his well-being. But my work takes precedence, and I can’t disclose anything to you." 

You glare through lingering tears. "No deals, no games. You tell me where he's investigating right now." 

A long pause, then she sighs. "Very well. It seems you really won't leave me alone, hm?" She grins coldly. "Shall we play the heroes, just this once?"

Playing the heroes is harder than it turns out to be, it seems. 

"Evening, boys. My associate and I have a… delivery." The guards blink, stupefied, then waves you through with dopey grins, mostly directed at her. Ada smirks. "Pathetic."

A floorplan materializes in her hand, every room and hallway illuminated with ghastly blue precision. "Samples are held in labs B5 through 7. Avoid guards, cameras. And try not to set anything off - we're on a tight schedule."

You dart through shadows, cautiously approaching the correct hall. Surprisingly, nothing contradicts your journey, as if the whole building’s been abandoned. Guess it’s your lucky day. 

You're wondering just how lucky you really are when you turn to usher Ada ahead, only to freeze as you turn the corner, and there, just a few feet away, he sits.

So calmly, so pristine, as if life was just as simple as sitting on the floor, in the middle of a hallway, in a building where you don't belong, after ghosting everyone who knows you for two days.

And yet there's something different. Haggard eyes stare from a chalk-white face, lips twisted in a feral snarl. That face, once so stunning you had to think about his existence, now only conveys hatred.

"L-Leon?" you breathe. But those eyes betray no recognition, only hunger. As your stare, transfixed by fright and grief, a click sounds behind you.

"Well, well. Fancy meeting you here." Ada glares down the barrel she points to Leon's head, somehow still perfectly composed. You want to rip off her head. "Now, are we all going to play nice?"

For a heartbeat, no one moves. Then Leon's eyes flicker, awareness filtering into his eyes by slow degrees, and he stands up at half that speed, as if time is against him.

But then he jolts back, as if something's clicked, and suddenly he's back with you, standing in front of you, gasping for breath and clutching you tightly.

You wait for a moment, not quite sure if you're imagining things or not, before a dry, unamused chuckle rips from your throat and slowly morphs into the laugh you're used to sharing with him.

Leon leans closer to you, resting your forehead against his, cupping your face as he stares down at you, recognition so evident in those open eyes. “How'd you find me?”

“Well, it's not like the department was going to notice,” you mumble, rolling your eyes. Ada scoffs in reply, but her head tilts to the side.

“And your endearing girlfriend here wouldn't let me get away that easily.”

You suppose her tone is light enough that you can let it pass as a joke, and at the moment you're so overwhelmed with relief that you aren't too worried about her idea of you either way.

“Seeing you… gosh,” he groans, pressing a palm to his temple, hissing. “I can barely think straight!”

“I know, baby, I know,” you coo comfortingly, keeping your voice soft so as to not alert any guards that might've pulled up around the area.

“No, I can't…” His eyes go fazed again, blank, emotionless, and once again he's slipped through your grasp like grains of sand on a beach, only there is nothing tranquil about this situation.

“Leon, listen to me. You’re going to be just fine,” you affirm, nodding your head, hoping he'll copy your motion.

He doesn't. "I...I can feel it," he gasps. Beads of sweat run tracks through the grim on his face. "It's… stronger than me..."

You grip his hand tight, ignoring the growing feverheat. "No, Leon, you can beat this. You always do." But even you can hear the desperation in your voice.

And you wait for Ada to chime in with some classic, yet somehow sassy third-wheel dialogue, but it never comes. In fact, she's vanished into the shadows, presumably already so far away you can't hear the click of her heels on the sterile floors.

Leon groans, and your attention snaps back to him, face contorting. "Go," he grits out. "Drive… and don't look back."

“I’m not leaving you here!” you proclaim, and his eyes soften in confusion as you sling his arms around your shoulder.

You're sure half the population must've heard your racket at this point, but it seems something else has gotten the security's attention.

As long as it's not you, you don't mind. Leon’s lower lip wavers, unshed tears sparkling in his eyes, and you want to peck everything that hurts until he's okay. But you can't be sure of anything until you're both safe.

The first responders always seem to pick up the prank calls from the teenagers that don't need their help, but it seems like hours go by the more Leon's blood coats your fingers, and inevitably, your phone screen.

He's stopped responding to your questions, and you fight to keep just a fragment of his conscience there with you, but his eyes, the vivid blue gone dull, meet yours and offer no further response.

When the ambulance finally arrives, they leave you outside the gates, denying you entry, with those ruby dusted hands and diamond streaked face.

You suppose you've always wanted to be the jewel in the night that races to the hospital to see their lover. And now that just seems silly.

<><><><>

Three weeks.

That's all the time he'll have with you. And even then, he's not truly there. He struggles to formulate his own thoughts, and now, whenever you see him, all you can think of is who he used to be.

As for Ada, you haven't seen her since. She hasn't snitched on you, so you suppose that it wouldn't hurt anyone to keep the events of that day between the three of you.

Two of you, now.

He isn't a person anymore. He isn't your Leon. But that's hard to remember when you've never been good at seeing what's beneath the surface, the dense, complex layers that create a person.

You see his soft, peaceful face that is like second nature to you, and you wonder if he'll respond to you today, even after hours of repeating the same truth that you know somewhere, deep down, you’ll never believe. The doctor's left the room already, decreeing two hours of treatment should do something for him, save him, much like removing a tumor.

“I went to our place, picked up some lunch for us,” you murmur, knowing he can't hear you. “You weren’t standing at the counter like always, and I almost lost it. Again.”

You can imagine him, if he was really here, chuckling, shaking his head at your questionable behavior. Not just a shell, a half of a person, but a whole that somehow also completed you.

See, this is why you failed math. Are you half a person without him, or whole?

“I got us a fortune cookie!” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat, as if your positive energy could transfer to him, in a magical, mystical manner, and he'd come back to you.

“Let's read it, yeah?” No point in waiting for a response when you know it'll never come.

Thin, pale letters. How odd, they resemble Leon's strangely flushed face.

“Today, your voice will bring a smile.” You suppress one of those and instead roll your eyes. “Your friends can’t think of new content, can they?”

You stuff the paper into your handbag, slung over the plastic chair near his bed. You've blocked out the rest of the world, now is time for just you two, however far away he may seem. Which is why you scowl up at the doctor, slightly confused at her sympathetic look, and then your ears ring and you shift back to reality. The reality of the situation.

The reality of the flatline.

The reality that, no matter how much you thrash in the security guard's arms, Leon's not coming back. He’s gone.

In a way, he's been gone for longer than you've chosen to accept. Maybe it would've been easier to let him go sooner. You're marched straight out of the hospital, a beeline for the exit, and you have little time to shout your goodbyes.

But you've grown used to taking advice from cookies. After all, they've gotten you to this point. The sarcasm you had so long ago seems silly to you, now, the fact that a biscuit could decide your fate.

To Leon?

Your voice keeps him smiling all the way up to the clouds.

[raviosrupees]

My parent rates LU Link's based on first impressions

[warning foul language, mention of alcohol, and my parents very negative impression of Wars !!! note this is my parents impression based off of the LU concept sketches + descriptions. a lot of em aren't accurate]

TIME

Very God of War, Kratos. PTSD Link.

when all the others are hanging out he's in the cups. He fought the moon? Sounds about right. Everyone else is talking and goofing off and he's got the thousand yard stare.

No one talks about how he cant get a full nights sleep. Please let him nap. Maybe let the owl take a nap too.

*stares at him for a very long time, before taking a sip of mimosa*

TWILIGHT

blond hiccup [httyd] very viking. Humble? Hiccup. Animal whisperer? Does he have a dragon? he turns in to a wolf? good for hiccup. getting over a complicated relationship? ...... h-

OH HE HAS GOATS? I love goats! Love this guy.

WARRIORS

Ah, douchy paladin! Yeah he's got the hip flex, he knows he's the shit. Very prideful? Of course you are. Leader type? Women problems? Not surprised. [said they most wanted to punch this one]

"This one writes himself. On Reddit forums"

FOUR [their 3rd fav]

"eeny meeny hippy genie" They've got the weird flowy scarf hat, they're super tiny! Dwarf.. chaos gremlin-- No that's a changeling! I don't think that's actually a Link, I think they faked their way in. Not that I blame them, its a pretty cool crew to be a part of. Spy for the fae realm.

WILD

5th grade school photo link. He's really excited for his first day of school and has a planner for all of his classes.

Good at navigation? Kudos for being a good boy scout.

Her 2nd favorite.

WILD

"Legolas Link" he likes to run on snow, flip his hair back + forth and shit talk dwarves [changeling doesn't like that]

"takes any questioning of his princess too personally? Why are they questioning his princess in the first place? *squints* Why is he so upset? Feel like maybe we need some codependency therapy-

IDENTITY CRISIS DUE TO MEMORY LOSS???? oh no, there we go, the therapy- INSECURE? THE ONLY ONE THAT FAILED? Dude, I think douchy paladin needs to take him to therapy-, maybe it'll convince him to get some too.

Proceeds to go into a rant about his sheikah tech being called weird magic: "Why are they calling his magic weird? That's rude ! They need to have more open minds, no wonder he's insecure! He just needs to feel confident and supported in his new environment and they're not being very supportive right now!"

*orders another mimosa*

LEGEND [their favorite]

"We've got stoner wizard link..." "Which one?" "He's wearing red, and like a fancy staff with a ball at the end for walloping on people who say he's not a real wizard" He just smacks em and says duh yes I am, but usually he doesn't bother with it bc he's too chill.

He's the Millenial of the linked universe. "Chooses not to be a leader type? 'Nope, Im good, just here for a paycheck not a promotion. Some PTO would be nice. Another adventure? He'd rather start a commune"

"Seems unaffected by his adventures?" Uhh he is though. He's just delusional about it now.

HYRULE

Classic link [true] silent generation, nobody acknowledges him. "just happy to be included," mistaken as a hobbit.

"He's actually a traveler, never stays in one place" "Ah so post adventure Bilbo baggins, who wants to see mountains again."

*starts singing "the road goes ever on and on"*

SKY

Foppy link. Fabulous haircut, cape swooped over one shoulder with the gorgeous coloring, contrasting belt-- he knows color schemes way too well, he could be in project runway.

"Not the leader type? Sure he's too busy worrying about fabric swatches. Views the master sword as a blessing? Yeah, I bet he does."

Very confidently decided his Zelda is a beard.

[yourlocalstranger123]

Hello I luv your writing may I request a yandere Nanook (if you write for him) with a Aeon of wind reader who's like Venti

U don't have to write this if this makes you uncomfortable is it fine if it's fluff?

|\/|Xx×!¡《Nanook》¡!×xX|\/|

ofc! Also, i appreciate you putting what kind of theme you wanted, like fluff. Bc I sometimes I add angst to a fluff bc they didn't exactly tell me what kind of theme, so I just take it as a free for all...(I still feel guilty-)

Also, im not too familiar with the lore, aeon's, and stuff. Especially his personality, so I might get it wrong. So I'll just go with the typical yandere who goes softer with you? For the fluff and since you said reader who's like venti, I view him as free going, so there won't be too many dark things about him being a yandere (and since it's mostly fluff)

Why every time I read my own writing, I think of the wattpad 😨😱😭

Warning: Murder mention

×Beauty of destruction×

Xx×—' and life ♥︎ '—×xX

× He wasn't interested in you at first, only focusing on destroying things. He sees the creation of the universe as a mistake and sought to destroy everything. As he was busy with his own plans, he felt a gust of wind thrown at him. He turned around to see you playfully laugh.

× he scoffed in annoyance but didn't bother to kill you.... but your alluring chuckle caught his attention. Seeing you directly gift your blessing to the people who walked your path so easily... Smiling as if something new and wonderful has been newly created and brought upon the world. Why were you so...happy?

× his dead "heart" started thumping against his chest as he watched you... he never felt so intrigued with something or someone. Did you do something to him? Why is his heart beating so hard against his chest? It hurts....but it hurts so good

× he was bothered by this new feeling...it felt confusing. He wanted to hear your voice, touch you, embrace you... but the most cunfusing part for him is that he wants you to be his, his only, but he wants to be yours too... it's simple, really, but why..? Why does he want that? He wanted to know more

× He read books in his own time of how to approach you, and he tried many times, but he just... he couldn't. Like something was stopping him. Hesitance, perhaps? He wonders why. There wasn't any bad relationship between him and you, so why was he hesitating? He's been observing and made every preparation of trying to make a conversation with you for days, so why?

× While he was in the middle of his thoughts, he flinched and quickly turned around, then saw your startled face. He stood still, mind racing of what to say. His heart thumped against his chest painfully. He felt like he was suffocating. He wanted to clutch his chest and make it stop. Why did he feel this way?

× The feeling was soon replaced immediately the moment you touched his shoulder, asking if he was alright. He felt... free, felt as if all the burden on his shoulders were lifted off. He lifts his head up to see you, your gentle eyes gazing into his,,

× he was stiff while having a conversation with you; only replying with dry responses. (Dryer than the Atacama desert) He wasn't much of a talker, so he listened to your stories, your daily life, your complaints, anything honestly. He simply laid their with his head resting on his palm as he watched you talk.

♥︎ oh, how he was soooo new to these kinds of feelings. But don't worry! You're here with him for a reason :) You're gonna help him, right? You guided him through these complicated meanings of it, so of course you will! You're the one responsible for it so you should take the responsibility!

♥︎ He takes mental notes about you, even the smallest details like he always notice that whenever your presence is near, a slight wind blows around the area you are in. So, he is able to quickly notice your presence. (You didn't even notice it yourself until he told you-)

♥︎ He always accompanies you everywhere. Every. Single. Place. (Maybe even the place you rest at..) And if you ask him why, he always says that it's was quite a coincidence, purely luck for him to cross path with you. Or that he thought that you needed protection (sir...[name] is an Aeon, how does- nvm, hes just delulu) and etc...

♥︎ and if you say no? He'll try to convince you. If that doesn't work? He'll be sadden, frowning(pouting), and looks with you with teary eyes. (those be fake asf-) ah....what a wonderful way to guilt trap you because it definitely works.

♥︎ Oh, the first time he smiled at you? You were memorized. (But if someone else, they would think he was planning to finally destroy the world now...) you happily and giddily told the other Aeons about this, and they looked at you H.O.R.R.I.F.I.E.D. Like, what do you mean the most mass of destruction is smiling innocently? They decided to secretly watch you from afar.

♥︎ He brings you small little gifts like flowers that are shaped as a crown (Your his emperor/empress) or a ring (He wants to marry you since he thinks that marriage is a powerful contract of loyalty and love...and maybe wants to prove to you that he is worthy of that-)

♥︎ He softens whenever you're around. He feels like he's wrapped around a warm blanket whenever you praise him or comfort him in any way, so he always seeks for your approval (and attention). You are his world, his everything, his only reason to not already destroy this universe.

♥︎ Oh, how he's sooooo obsessed with you! It's like seeing a teenager obsessing over their crush! Whatever you give him, even if it's the most basic thing ever, he takes care of it and makes sure it's in its top shape and condition! And if anything or anyone dares to damage it or even touch it, he'll make sure they'll regret it... (Of course, if it's you, he doesn't mind! He can just simply try to put it back in shape, and if it doesn't work, he'll ask you for another one! He's even saying, please....)

♥︎ He even has a cute little (huge) shrine of you! He used something called a "camera" and took pictures every time you looked in high spirits like when you smiled, fascinated, grinned, etc. And of course, he took it with your consent....he doesn't want his love to be upset now, would he?

—Xx×《 ~♥︎~ 》×xX—

He was enjoying the feeling of resting his head on your lap, intertwining his hand with yours. He listened to your voice as you sing songs, stories, or even just humming. He really wants to hear your heartbeat, so he pokes your arm to catch your attention. As you looked down, you could see something no one could or ever believe.

His smile. He tapped lightly on the spot where your heart was. He savored the sound of your chuckle as you gently lift his head off your lap and made yourself comfortable before letting him lean closer and put his head on your chest. He closed his eyes as he nuzzled against you. He was like a little cat, how adorable.

He was always so jealous that when you shared your smile with others, he wanted to be the only one to see that. He wanted to keep you from others. He didn't like that your attention was ripped off from him when one of your followers prayed for you. He covered your eyes with his hand and snuggled against you. He huffed and frowned when you tried to get him off.

He glared when he heard the other Aeon trying to call you. Before you could even respond, he pushed you down and hugged you tightly. "Do you really have to go to.....that aeon right now? Can't you stay just this once? Please [name]?" He asks. He would've begged if you didn't respond quickly with a agreement. He smiles and bathes in your warmth once again.

(He's gets jealous quite easily)

He made a ring out of the flowers he found. He tried to secretly slide it onto your finger, which made you smile. You pretended not to know what he was doing and just played with his hair. Once he was done, you finally pretended to just notice it now. "Oh, did someone put this pretty ring on my finger? Oh, how I wonder who the handsome/beautiful person put this ring on me?"

You chuckled as he perked up. He snuggles against your hand that had the ring on it. "Mustn't I put a ring on yours too?" You played along as he blushed lightly. He could see you using the wind to gather up some flowers into your palm, making a ring for him too! His eyes light up as you put a ring on his finger.

He smiles once again. He's glad that he killed all of your suitors before they could even meet you....He should be the only one who you call "yours," and you should only be with him, you don't need anyone else...

He really loves and adores you. He will do anything to keep you with him

[vanishingcherry]

NO REGRETS

authors note: this is for my darling @cs55version. i love you so much and your idea was just too tempting so i hope i did it justice! to everyone who sent in something for the 1k celly, thank you so much! i've started writing a few and i'm gonna try and get them out soon

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

Max had arrived to the Silverstone paddock slightly earlier than the other drivers, the team wanting to talk to him in person before the rest of the reporters and fans get there.

He walked into the motorhome, heading to Christian's office where he furrowed his brows at the sight of around 5 people in the room, a lot less that what he had been expecting.

"Hey guys... where is everyone else? Am I too early?" he chuckled, taking a seat and looking up in confusion when nobody replied.

"Uh Max, you're right on time." Christian said, looking around the room and making eye contact with Helmut for a few seconds before continuing. "It's not a team meeting, per se. We just had a couple thoughts about your girlfriend."

Max's eyes lit up at the mention of his girlfriend, his previously suspicious expression discarded for one of pure joy. "She's great isn't she?! I love her," he exclaims as he thinks about the facetime he was on with you just an hour ago.

Although the media and fans only found out a few days ago, close friends and family had known about the relationship for a few months. There were also a couple people on the RedBull team who Max trusted enough to tell, and it seemed that all of them were currently in the room.

"Yeah about that," his PR manager says, "we aren't sure if she's the best in terms of publicity and the image we are going for."

"What?" said Max, looking around to see if they were joking, anger boiling when he realised they weren't. "And what 'image' are we doing for exactly?"

"Max," Christian sighs. "Look, I'm happy that you're happy with her, really. But, I mean, her style of dressing and her music, it's just not something we're comfortable with."

"So?" Max questioned, still adamantly defending you. "It's what she's comfortable with, I don't see why you have an opinion here."

"Max, no one likes her." Helmut piped up from behind the boy. "We've seen the tweets and discussions and data, the fans just don't like her. They don't like the way she dresses or her lyrics or anything. "

Max was getting aggravated, not understanding what everyone else's opinion had to do with his relationship.

"Look." said Max, "I don't care. I like it, and she likes it and thats all that matters. I don't care about what the fans think, and neither does she. She has fans for fucks sake, isn't that proof enough that people like her?"

"We're sorry Max, but she isn't feasible for the team. It's your choice, but everyone thinks you should break up. I understand if you don't, but in that case we are going to have to do some form of damage control." His PR manager looks sympathetic, but Max could care less in the moment.

"Exactly, it's my choice. I am done with this conversation okay? We are not breaking up. Do whatever the fuck you want, but do not talk to me about her." Max slams the door behind him, walking away as everyone in the rooms sighs almost simultaneously, knowing that the conversation had gone miraculously bad.

"Do what you have to," said Christian to the PR team, "don't bother Max for a while."

liked by schecoperez, redbull and 1,639,857 others

redbullracing lovely to have you @.kellypiquet! ...perhaps a new couple on the grid? 👀

view all 8,345 comments

f1fan WHAT? DID REDBULL JUST HARD LAUNCH MAX'S RELATIONSHIP?

↳ f1fan2 i am so confused bcs i remember him saying that his girlfriend was a singer in an interview

↳ maxfan1 oh yeah... forgot about that

↳ f1fan2 and as far as i know, kelly piquet isnt a singer

kellypiquet thanks for having me!

maxfan wait what happened to that other girl? were those actually just rumours then?

↳ maxfan3 probably 😭 people love making stuff up on twitter

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 2,239,857 others

maxverstappen this is my girlfriend, the most spectacular person i am honoured to know. i love you, schatje.

we weren't planning to tell the world yet, but i was forced to because of some false information my team has implied. nonetheless, i am very happy to share with the world the person i love most.

i would appreciate it if all the fans treat her with the respect she deserves.

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liked by maxverstappen, charlesleclerc and 823,059 others

yourusername no regrets

comments on this post are disabled

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

I think it's really funny that most of my issues w dp×dc fics would be immediately resolved if they were about Dan instead of Danny

(No hate to any fics that do these things btw I am just so so picky)

Jack and Maddie being awful irredeemable people? Not a risk if the fic is about Dan since he doesn't associate with them. If he did catch their ire (pre-agit) he probably genuinely did kill and replace Danny like some write the Fenton's believing

Ooc Danny who's too violent and fine with murder? That'd work wonderfully with Dan

I don't mind it but I don't care for ghost king Danny. However ghost king Dan honestly isn't that much of a leap considering he does canonically have Fright Knight working for him

-OP because he's ghost king Danny, Dan already canonically can make his own ghost portals, and could make himself appear on Valerie's watch and presumably other tech, and can duplicate, and electrocute, so on and so forth

Going to a Wayne Gala or whatever with Vlad? Works well with Danny but works incredibly well with Dan

Anyway basically what im saying here is I want to read Dan fics all the time

Bonuses, that I think are cool rather than being related to my grievances

Dan can look like his 14yr human and ghost self. And I still choose to believe he can look like his true self (as well as being able to appear as 24yr human Danny 🤔)

Honestly I don't think Dan would bother with a human identity unless forced. Maybe he needs to stay in it for an amount of time in order to stay grounded and not cease to exist bc his timeline is gone

If in the same dimension, Dan could easily know all the heroes identities, at least, know their real faces. He probably unmasked them after killing them just to see

I tend to imagine the JL w this one but Dan AND Danny being in DC is great too. I wonder how they'd explain the Dan situation. Dan could just say he's from an erased timeline. Or see how long he can convince others he's Danny's older brother or father or uncle or something

I think a plot could either be Dan just being a dramatic smug bastard OR Dan slowly learning how to heal and accept his emotions and let others in his life and become better for the people around him even if unintentionally. Or both. Especially both.Imagine.

[lesbianrobin]

ok since people r very into my chris fic i shall share some of my random behind the scenes thoughts while writing it:

adriana has literally been waiting her entire life for her obviously gay older brother who joined the army to avoid his wife and then moved to los angeles to be a sexy firefighter to COME OUT ALREADY and by the time we meet her in this fic she is like Vibrating with the need to be like EDDIE IS GAYYYYYYY ARE YOU PEOPLE BLIND??? which is why it takes like absolutely zero prodding from chris for her to spill all of eddie's business. i think when eddie was little he was a very obviously gay little boy and as he grew up he learned how to Be Normal but adriana never forgot and she's like deeply sad about it.

chris is So fucking miserable at his grandparents' house he misses video games so bad. i couldn't find a way to really incorporate this without it feeling like a cheap "look he's a TEEN BOY" thing but yeah the second he gets back home he is slamming that headset on and gaming until eddie tells him he has to take a break or he'll burn his eyes out of his sockets.

there are a Lot of songs on buck and eddie's joint depression playlist that i listed and then cut for practicality's sake but if there's any like interest in that i could maybe put together + link the full playlist for y'all?

buck's "maddie" playlist is entirely music he listened to growing up bc it makes him think of her. as a younger sibling my music taste from birth to like. age fifteen ish. was just wholly whatever my older sister listened to and i think buck is the same way. i don't think buck necessarily listens to this playlist on his own very often but if he's hanging out with maddie and/or babysitting jee-yun he'll put it on because it makes him happy to enjoy some 90s/00s nostalgia with his best girls. sometimes he'll play it in the car when he's driving chris somewhere because he wants to carry forward some of those good memories he has with maddie with chris.

buck and eddie's texts were written in order to coincide with each other! eddie texts more frequently than buck but i think if you pay attention you can sometimes tell which days buck Also sent chris a text bc they match. some of them were sent specifically in the wake of very emotionally taxing shifts where they both wanted so badly to call chris and beg him to come home but they knew that wouldn't go well and they didn't want to make chris feel guilty so they tried to play it cool.

speaking of buck and eddie: i don't think that eddie's conversation with chris is necessarily the First step in eddie realizing he's gay or moving toward something romantic with buck. keep in mind that chris has been gone for at least two weeks by the time he talks to either of them, and buck and eddie spend the vast majority of their time together. this fic is restricted to chris' pov, and he has no way of knowing whether, say, buck and tommy broke up, or whether his dad has been thinking about some things differently since he's been gone. buck and eddie Also have to spend twelve hours in a car together just the two of them between the end of the fic and their reunion with chris. this is not me saying that buck and tommy DID break up or that buddie got together while chris was away (i don't actually have a solid "canon" for where they're at), just that i intentionally left space for a wide range of possibilities due to chris' limited knowledge of what's going on with them!!

i kinda intentionally did not delve too deeply into the psychology of the diaz parents here because i think their behavior is a bit inscrutable to chris. the vast majority of his memories of them are from when he was really little, and therefore i think he doesn't actually know them very well as people. he knows that there's some tension between them and eddie, but prior to this fic he never really bothered to question Why. all he knows is that his grandparents will probably come and get him if he calls, and that it'll hurt his dad's feelings, and in the immediate aftermath of the kim debacle that's all he cares about. once he's in el paso, he starts noticing some things that make him a bit uncomfortable, but he never does determine for sure what their motivations and opinions are about this whole situation, whether they're treating him a certain way bc he's the grandkid or bc of his cerebral palsy, and whether their treatment of eddie really does stem from homophobia or not. at the end of the day he's thirteen years old and i wanted to leave his grandparents' True Selves as a bit of a mystery because 1. i don't think They necessarily know why they do what they do and 2. i don't think there's any one answer that would be satisfying.

chris literally had zero intention of saying anything to eddie about the Gay Thing he just is very much thirteen years old and emotional and he fundamentally Trusts his father to never like. lash out at him for saying something like that. so he doesn't try too hard to hold it back and impulsively says Hey Dad Are You Gay Maybe because he's never gone so long without talking to his dad before and he's just bursting with thoughts and feelings. he's not even trying to do a buddie matchmaking thing it's just that the easiest way to make his argument is to be like (points at buck).

[skrunksthatwunk]

sorry just watched all of lacey's games (thru rabbit hole at time of writing) and i wanna talk about laceys diner can we talk about lacey's diner? we're talking about it now

tl;dr lacey's games is about the presentation and consumption of girls.

cw suicide, csa, incest, cannibalism. if you've seen the series, you know. i only speak of them vaguely here though

in lacey's diner her livelihood depends on how well people like her food, how it looks, how it tastes, how quickly she gets it to them on time. if any of these things falter, they reject her and reinforce her desperation (trauma around failure and acceptance + threat of extreme poverty via the restaurant closing).

eating her food is accepting her, choosing to be with her in some way. lacey gets eaten in the prior episode so her stalker can be with her forever, out of an obsession with her (/her body) that leads him to destroy her to better possess and consume her (like her uncle). she can't be late serving them herself, because that's not good presentation—her inability to get food out on time is a reflection of her flaws, and a cause to reject her. she must be available for others, punctual. she can't put the wrong ingredients in—elements of herself, her life—she must exclude them entirely from the part they eat, the part she gives away. she keeps the part that is filled with the disgusting, ugly, painful things in her life, about her.

and when she gets fed up and feeds those raw, authentic parts of herself to them (out of spite, tired of trying her best to no avail, to give them a taste of their own medicine), she is punished, not allowed to serve anyone again bc it's too gross and dangerous. she is punished for lashing out, for not keeping it all bottled up, and in her helplessness, resigns herself to death.

as seen in rabbit hole, jay was too boyish to be consumed happily by the audience (the mothers in the emails), so she was killed off and effectively haunts lacey. if she is not presentable enough, she too will be destroyed and discarded. if she is too presentable, she will be consumed too completely. she has no control, no say (as we know from lacey's wardrobe), no agency outside of pretending she's in a sparkly dreamy world. and jay—who said she would rather die than wear makeup—is forced by lacey to wear makeup in death. she's fixing her by making her conform to the same gender standards she's strangled by, saying that if she was less boyish she wouldn't have died. again, femininity and conformity (and thus being pleasant to others, presenting oneself to be admired and consumed) is safe to lacey, something she must perform to survive. yet, of course, lacey is hurt immensely for her being a girl, for her being a woman, and for her trauma resulting from those events.

all her talk of being ugly when she's grieving, of almost crying in front of him (her uncle iirc), of needing to be pretty even for the people who abuse and hurt her... and how she wished the world was ugly and grotesque when jay died because that was how it felt, but it was just sunny and oblivious. she was the one standing out for being upset, and the world was pretending and consumable and she couldn't anymore. she had to scrape herself together though because what else is there? when her job and stability and life is at stake, how can she afford to be traumatized? to not pretend, even when she's alone? augh. ough. look i just like lacey. i want her to be ok

i don't know that lacey herself is supposed to have a linear, consistent story. i kind of think she's an avatar for like,, girlhood suffering and trauma, and the traumatized people who come from that (hence her dying in multiple ways and coming back). perhaps as rocio's way of warning or comforting girls who went through similar things to her, or to vent her own issues because the thought of making something that's such a farce, such a forced, gussied up version of what it's like to be a girl, bothers her. the audience comes to the website to consume lacey at her best, at her most presentable, and are instead met with the harsh reality of cockroaches and used condoms. and yet, the audience of lacey games the video series consumes her too, only they are seeking out her trauma, trying to invade her mind and pick it apart. we're all consuming what we want, whatever we find appetizing, of lacey. and for rocio, you get the sense that she is also a tool, a way for rocio to express her inner distress. in that, lacey is put through all this unfortunate shit by rocio to make her more presentable and consumable to her. we are all using lacey, we all see her and eat her and destroy her. and she comes back to us and her cage because the pain's comforting in its familiarity.

in short, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. 👍

[nisuna]

Hiii, Helloooo. I'm back :^)

I've made a separate post about how much this idea means to me, and I hope I did it justice. This is like my baby, one of the very first scenarios I've ever thought of. Something that motivated me to start writing in the first place and made me want to share my writing at all, so yeaaahh, please be gentle♡. I've made a detailed post about it, so feel free to check that one out here.

The gist of it is: It all happened one evening when your best friend came to pick you up from a party for the first time, being tipsy and sexually frustrated one thing led to another and you slept together and from then on it kind of became your guys' thing

You refuse to call him by his first name, but he'd really like you to. Even worse, you even add -san to his last name whenever you're tipsy

Oh, and no kissing, bcs that's too intimate am I right ha ha

What's the worst that could happen this time?

he miiiighhtt make you call him by his first name and maybe just maybe you do finally kiss???! who knows hahaaa

Without further ado Fwb!Suguru x f!reader, let's gooooo

<3masterlist<3

~2,4k words~ Strictly 18+ MDNI

TW: fwb!suguru x f!reader, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, cream pie, marking, biting, hickeys, multiple positions, get fucked stupid, first times, teasing, dirty talk, tit sucking, nipple play, multiple rounds, leg humping, so much happening did I miss anything?? lmk xoxo

He never understood why you liked going out to the most shabby and stuffed clubs. It reeked of alcohol and smoke mixed with all kinds of bodily fluids. As he was making his way through the dancing crowd of sweaty people grinding against each other, he finally found you sitting at the bar while some guy was leaning in your direction way too close for comfort.

He had his usual fit, hair half up with a black over sized sweater and loose black joggers. Making him look so huge that if there were any guys bothering you, they would leave you alone as soon as they saw him.

"Yo~ y/n", he touched your exposed shoulder and gave you his signature eye smile, before staring down the guy next to you that was trying to get in your pants or in this context in ypur skimpy little dress. The guys' annoyed look turned into a worried one after seeing who he was up against.

"Aahhh Geto-saannn you're here early" you mused, leaning against his hard chest. That damn honorific, he cursed but still managed to squeeze out a smile.

"Haha "-san", so you aren't her boyfriend then." the stranger snarled but soon gave up as Suguru raised an eyebrow at him and snapped a "watch it". "Alright, alright, I give up", he put his hands up in defeat. "Maybe next time, sweetcheeks."

As soon as the guy left, Suguru took both of your hands in his and knelt down in front of you. "Y/n we've talked about this. If you don't want to call me Suguru, at least drop the honorific. We've known each other for years now, don't you think it's about time. Also, don't you think it's weird when you call the guy you fuck by his last name, hm?" He turned his head looking at you expectedly.

"But Geto-saaaan-"

"Ah ah, what did I just tell you"

"Okay, okay, Geto" you huffed, "You know I'm not comfortable with that", you whined, squeezing his hands.

"I just want to hear you say it at least once. Say it and I'll fuck you real good tonight.", he smirked.

You considered it, after a hard week you really needed a good fuck. "Sugu-", is all you could manage before snapping your head away, "Nope can't do it."

He let his head drop with a loud sigh. "It's alright, I was just pushing my luck. C'mon, let's get you out of here." And with that, he rose back to his full height, grabbed your hand, and pulled you from the bar stool. While making your way through the crowd and to his car, your thoughts kept wandering.

Suguru... that's such a pretty name.

The car ride was mostly quiet, but as soon as you stepped inside his apartment, you were shoved against the closest wall and found yourself underneath him soon after.

"What's up with you today? If you keep squeezing me that hard, you might actually snap my dick off.", he chuckled. He's way too cocky. You have to do something about that.

"Have I ever told you how annoying you can be. If you don't stop talking, I think I might have to shut that mouth of yours up myself.", you whispered, putting your hands on his cheeks and pulling his face close so that it was right in front of yours.

His usually narrow eyes were blown wide open, his hips stopped moving and you became uncomfortably aware how close you two were right now. So, instead of the kiss he was so desperately awaiting, you opted for blowing on his lips and hugging him close.

"Just kidding.", you hid yourself deeper in the crook of his neck. However, when there was no remark coming from him, you pulled away to look at his blank face.

"Sorry I didn't-"

"You're really cruel, you know that", you felt goosebumps rise as he whispered against your neck. "It's payback time."

Before you could react, he pulled out, latched his mouth onto your neck and began sucking.

"Wait, ah- you're gonna leave a mark.", in a futile attempt, you raised your hands to try and push him away, only to have your hands pinned next to your head.

"If I can't have your lips, I'll take everything else.", he pulled away to take a look at you. "Tell me if you're uncomfortable."

Nod.

In between licks from your neck down to your breasts, he encouraged you to touch yourself. "Want you to cum from me playing with your nipples.", he smiled, oh so sweetly, while rolling the hardened nubs between his fingers.

Cheeky bastard, but you would lie if you said that he wasn't pushing all the right buttons right now. So your hand made its way down between your legs while you rubbed yourself in sync with his twisting and sucking.

"What happened? You're awfully quiet? Cat got your tongue?" and before you could snap back at him, he dared to smirk and pulled on your nipples making you moan.

"Fuck, stop teasing.", you whined.

"Say my name and I'll make you cum myself" he whispered after pulling himself off of you with an obnoxious pop. "What do you say? Good deal right?", he mused while kissing the skin between your breasts up your neck and to your ear. His hot breath kept hitting you as you arched your back off the bed, but to no surprise you remained silent.

"So stubborn for no reason", he shook his head in disappointment. "Then you better work for it yourself."

He really made you work for it. You always came so quickly when it was his fingers rubbing your clit, when it was his long and thick finger dipping into your dripping heat from time to time. Once you go Geto you never go back huh. Your fingers just didn't cut it anymore, so it took a lot of sucking and encouragement from him for you to tip over the edge with a silent scream of his last name.

He kissed your sensitive skin through it as you desperately clung onto him.

"Good job.", he grinned with a kiss to your cheek.

"Shut up.."

"Aww, don't be like that, c'mere", he mused, pulling you onto his lap. You let yourself fall forward against his sweaty chest as you tried to catch your breath. In your delirious state, you kept nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, giving him a few cheeky bites, smoothing the area over with your tongue afterwards.

When you deemed him marked up enough, you pressed your forehead against his. As you were staring into each other, you mumbled, "Now we're matching."

"How cute. You're so kind, thanks."

You basked in eachothers warm embraces, breathing in each other until your hips grew impatient and started to grind against him.

'Someone's in a hurry, huh?", he quirked an eyebrow at you. You shrugged and whispered into his ear. "Gotta take care of you, too."

He expected you to go slow, but to his surprise you took a hold of his cock and slammed your hips way down meeting him in an instant.

"Whoa slow down you're gonna hurt yourself ah-" he looked at you in disbelief, "Is it okay? Does it hurt?"

You took a few deep breaths before continuing with overflowing confidence, "No, it feels really good. I can feel you all the way up here", you smiled, leaning back and tracing your fingers from your pubic bone to just over your belly button.

"Fuck, you can't just say those things out of the blue" he mumbled sitting up, finally starting to pound into you from below.

"That's what did it, huh?" you chuckled, arching your back and clawing at his shoulders. "How naïve, men are so simple." you kept that thought to yourself, tho.

As he kept bouncing you up and down you felt yourself go stupid on his cock. Each thrust was hitting your sweet spot just right and the stretch was to die for. You couldn't keep your voice down.

It didn't help in the slightest that he was playing with your breasts all throughout his mean thrusts. You went especially crazy when he fondled the fat of your ass and spanked the reddening flesh in between thrusts. As he felt himself get close he snuck a hand between your bodies to rub your throbbing clit. Your mewls and loud moans, slowly but surely pushed him over the edge.

He had to hold down your squirming hips as your breath hitched with the intensity of your orgasm and with how deep you were feeling him right now. He pulled you off of him and hugged you close, trying to calm you down.

"Shh, I got you, calm down you did so good", with a kiss to the top of your hair, you felt yourself relax. But that relaxation didn't last long, as you started to desperately grind against his leg. With your ass rubbing against his cock so perfectly he just couldn't help himself.

"Fuck, I'm hard again.", he admitted matter-of-factly.

"Then keep going. Give it to me until I pass out."

"Shit, you little minx." he cursed in his head but eventually gave in.

"Y/n?"

"Hmm?"

"Turn around for me."

You reluctantly got off his lap and got ready, face down ass up.

He really wanted to take you like this, but curiosity got the best of him.

"Fuck that" he thought as he flipped you and pulled your back flush against his chest, sitting down. After hooking his hands under your knees, he he picked up his pace as his hungry mouth ravaged your already sensitive neck.

"Feel good, yeah?", was the last thing you heard before he wrapped his huge hand around your neck.

Your mind went fuzzy as his hand was skillfully restricting your airflow from time to time. Which is exactly why you didn't register the next few words that tumbled from your mouth.

"Kiss me."

You made him stop dead in his tracks.

"What did you just say?", he had to make sure he heard you right.

Your hand was already at his nape, pulling him close.

"Kiss me..."

"Kiss me...", he gulped, "Who?", he was pushing his luck, and his heart rate picked up, afraid he might've pushed you too far. But the gamble paid off as he heard the words leave your mouth, that he had been waiting to hear from the moment he set his eyes on you.

"Kiss me, Suguru."

He wasted no time as he grabbed your jaw and smashed his lips against yours. It was so messy, so so nasty, teeth clashing against each other, but it was everything he could've ever wished for. He was on cloud nine. It was embarrassing how excited he got from just kissing you, but he couldn't care less at this moment. Your mouth fell open as you felt him spill inside of you. His tongue dipped into your awaiting mouth, while he fucked you through his second high.

He had to catch his breath while holding your limp form. He was sure you needed a break but when he tried to pull you off of his sensitive cock you stopped him. "Wait", you mumbled against his lips. "Don't pull out. Keep fucking me. Hurry up." How could he say no to you, even if he felt like he was about to die from overstimulation, he couldn't possibly deny you.

Which is how you ended up on your side, leg held up by his strong arm as he pounded into you from behind. Your sweet moans had him riled up impossibly more as his hips went to town on your pliable body. Even in this position, his eager mouth never left yours. The fat of your tummy and thighs kept jiggling so deliciously with each thrust that he just couldn't get enough of you. He soon felt you tighten around him and knew you were close, so he spurred you on.

"You feel so good like this, god you're so tight. Shit. About to cum?"

"Yeah, feels so good."

"Who makes you feel this good?"

"You do, Suguru. I love this so much. My god I'm gonna cum again."

"Yeah, yeah good, cum on my cock."

With a few delicate swipes of your fingers over your nub, your back arched as you came all over him. And he was there to swallow all of your moans with his greedy mouth.

When the heat of the moment subsided, you were a huffing and puffing mess. He held you close throughout and rubbed your lower back reassuringly.

After a while you were the first to break the silence.

"Holy shit, best sex we've had so far."

"Can't agree more.", he kissed your lips and continued. " Sooo, I assume you won't be calling me Geto anymore, right?"

You turned your head avoiding eye contact, but he stopped you, squishing your cheeks to look at him and raising an eyebrow. " Riiight, y/n? What's my name from now on? C'mon, don't break my heart."

"Suguruuuu....", you trailed off, but before he could celebrate, you quickly added, "-san.."

"Aah, so close", he chuckled, disappointment evident in his voice. "But it's a good start, so I'll take it.", he said truthfully, squeezing you tight. It was a huge step for your relationship. He was incredibly happy. He will make you drop the honorific no matter what. Now that he's got a taste, he will never let you go. Heck, he might even ask you out now that you're on a first name basis.

But he won't rush things. He's more than content with the current development of your relationship. You've come a long way, and only time will tell what it'll evolve into. The only thing he cares about right now is making you call his name over and over again, in one way or another. Life is good.

-----

I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this 🙆🏻‍♀️❤️ Please let me know your thoughts. See ya next time<3

[whorergal]

SURPRISED?

summary: you're ghostface instead of ethan…

warnings: descriptions of blood & murder. overall really gory. language (cussing).

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader, platonic sam carpenter x fem!reader, enemies quinn bailey x fem!reader

authors note: ethan and quinn aren't related in this one btw!! i really liked this idea so here's me trying my best to write it to the best of my ability 😭 also anika lives bc she's my pookie <3

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You sat in Quinn's room, making sure to stay clear from the windows she had purposely left open. Messages from Ethan and your friends in general went crazy as they wondered where you were and why you weren't answering. You rolled your eyes, understanding their worry but seeing as you were the cause behind their constant paranoia, you found it annoying to be bothered.

Quinn had left her room, saying she needed to not act suspicious. Her hookup would be making his grand reveal in a couple of minutes where you would be hiding in the closet, hoping to not be forced to witness something that would physically make you ill.

Noises outside the room got louder as you heard everyone laughing. It brought a smile to your face until you forced yourself to drop it.

Yes, you loved your friends. You had known Tara, Chad, Mindy and Sam your whole life—how could you not grow to love them? But, then again, you weren't planning their demise half the time you spent with them until last year when you grew vengeful.

Ethan was just an fortunate bonus you collected once moving to New York that happened to please Quinn, her being the mastermind and all. She liked the idea of getting someone like him to trust you just like how her brother Richie did with Sam.

Although, you did end up falling for Ethan and not just for the act. It was never in your head to make him love you just to hurt him in the end until Quinn meddled into your life and found out about you two. Then, the thought of your reveal and how he would react never left your mind. For some reason, it never crossed your thoughts that you would eventually have to face him seeing as you were too in love with him to kill him.

Your phone screen lit up, a picture of Ethan you took when he was studying popped up. You sighed, making sure to keep your voice low as you answered. "Hey, E."

"Y/N/N, where are you? I thought you said you'd be coming over tonight?" Ethan's worried voice caused your heart to swell. God, you hated lying to him.

"Yeah, I know but I'm still stuck in class," you lied very effortlessly. "My teacher offered to give us extra time to prepare for our next exam so I decided to stay. I might be around in an hour or two."

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've stayed with you," he immediately told you. "I hate knowing you're alone."

"E, I'm fine. I'm in a class full of thirty other people plus my professor," you reassured him, staring into the ceiling.

"Doesn't matter, Y/N/N. What if Ghostface attacks you on your way over? Or what if he's there at—"

"Hey, hey," you interrupted his rambling. "Look, I've done this once before, he'll have to try a lot harder then sneak attacking me while I'm in an Econ class."

"Y/N, I'm being serious," Ethan said sternly.

"So am I," you countered with a breathless chuckle. "How about this? I'll call you when I'm on my way over and we can facetime so you can make sure I'm okay."

The line was quiet until you heard a soft, "okay."

"I love you, E," you told him sadly, hoping he couldn't tell as you continued. "Please be safe. If anything happens, don't play the hero, okay? I can't lose you."

You were saying that mostly for yourself. You'd be the one behind the mask and if he did get in the way, you'd be forced to do something you didn't want to do. You had managed to steer Quinn clear from him until tonight and the last thing you wanted to do was cause him any ounce of pain.

"I should be telling you that," he told you with a smile, you could hear it through his voice. "I'll try not to, alright. Just…I love you. If anything does happen tonight and I can't say it again, just know that I really love you, Y/N."

"Don't say that, E," you interrupted. Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"You can't control it, Y/N/N," he let out weakly. "But I'm sure nothing's gonna happen, okay? So just worry about your exam and call me later. I love you."

"I love you too, E," you mumbled sadly.

"Get a room!" you heard Mindy yell in the background.

"Minds, stop. It's cute," Sam defended you two.

"Bye, E." You laughed; you couldn't help it.

You hung up the phone, staring down at his contact picture for a second longer. For some reason, that one conversation alone had you rethinking your choices. Would it be so bad to back out of the plan now? Quinn and her dad can take care of the rest—you only had to do with those two college nerds deaths and another guy who you'd seen bothering Ethan on campus, but that was it. The rest was Wayne, which was only the bodega and Sam's therapist.

The thought of even having to possibly kill Sam, especially Sam, because of how close you were with her made you sick to your stomach. So, why were you still apart of a plan that ensured her death along with your friends?

Your second thoughts were interrupted by the swift open of Quinn's door. The redhead came barging in, wearing her pink silk nightgown that barely reached her thighs.

"Nice conversation with your boyfriend," she told you with a certain distaste in her tone.

"Had to make sure I didn't sound suspicious," you defended yourself, getting up from the floor but staying in the corner of the room. You were lying.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "How long are you going to string him along? He's going to hate you when he finds out what you've done…that's if he survives that long."

"He stays out of our plan, remember?"

"Where's the fun in that?" she whined, walking over to mess with your black robe. "He takes you away from me all the time."

You shoved her away. "I told you, Quinn; you and your dad don't touch him. That was our only agreement."

"Yeah, it was when you realized you loved him," she had to point out. "He's turning you against us. Before you met him, you were excited to get revenge just like us."

"No, he's not but is it bad for me to not want to see the one person I actually care about harmed? It's not my fault that the only person you cared about was murdered."

"Just because you're apart of this plan doesn't mean I won't kill you," Quinn threatened as your words fell loosely from your mouth. You just couldn't stand when she badmouthed Ethan in front of you.

"Oh, shut up," you replied annoyedly. "Your dad won't even let you get behind the mask."

Quinn got quiet because it was true until she spoke, having to have the final word. "Fine, you got kills but do you really think Ethan would date a murderer? What're going to do when we complete act three? You think he's going to want to be with you after you helped kill his friends?"

"Fuck off," you snapped, letting her words get under your skin which you shouldn't have.

Quinn was going to continue bothering you but her phone went off. Her current boyfriend of the month was on his way up, forcing you to put the mask over your head and hide inside the closet.

Surprisingly, she didn't do much with him. You were sure she wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make you watch her but it seemed she was excited to get on with the plan. It only made up of occasional frisky touching, some things that were still counted as sexual activities that did make you look away but nothing too extravagant.

He ended up leaving to her connected bathroom to take a shower, saying how he felt dirty. Quinn then started to call her dad, basically filling him in and then she turned to you, gesturing for you to make your grand appearance as she saw Danny standing by his window just like planned.

Your boots helped make you seem taller as you stalked toward her very slowly. Her back was facing you as she rambled on the call about something. Your hand gripped your knife as the thought of actually killing her surfaced in your head. No, you couldn't do that.

Noises coming from across the window caught your attention as you looked up, seeing Danny pointing at you while yelling words you couldn't hear. You tilted your head at him, walking away inside the bathroom.

Killing her boyfriend wasn't too hard as you caught him off guard but the scene had become gory. You'd taken your pent up anger on the poor guy, his blood covering the entire room that you didn't notice until you backed away from where he laid lifelessly in the tub, naked.

You grimaced at yourself and what you had done.

Walking back into the room, you decided to start the act earlier than Quinn wanted, knowing it would piss her off. You rose your knife and planted it straight into the mattress, startling her as she let out an authentic gasp.

She began to scream, making sure to keep it leveled so it didn't sound too suspicious to everyone outside her room. She needed them to believe she was having sex so they wouldn't interrupt before she could get in her costume, which was just covering her entire body with fake blood and a few slashes from your knife to make it even more realistic.

You pulled her up, wrapping your arm around her neck just as you saw Danny take a picture. Then you tossed her to the floor where she crawled to the fake blood and splattered it all over herself and her room.

A couple more seconds, she continued to scream until she stopped and you heard the group outside running toward the door until the silence made them halt.

"Showtime," Quinn whispered proudly.

It made you sick to your stomach.

You held her up, taking a second to let her collect herself before you threw the door open and charged her body at them. Quinn fell on Anika, taking her and Mindy down as the girl screamed at Quinn's "dead" body.

Then, everyone scattered. You saw Chad pull Ethan and Tara toward the direction of the door and you decided to let them go on the account it would mean Ethan was safe. You headed straight toward Mindy, slashing her in the arm, knowing it would be enough to make her weak as blood always made her squeamish to the point she would pass out at times.

Your goal was to get Mindy. That was the plan Quinn had created for you to do but you couldn't. The rush of it all hit you once you saw her hunch over to hold her wound, trying not to vomit at the sight of the blood.

Anika was about to attack you for what you had done to her girlfriend but you got smacked in the face but a large object, sending you flying against the TV. When you peered through your mask, you saw Ethan's familiar light blue shirt and his curly hair, reaching down to help Mindy and Anika. Fuck, you thought. You should've known.

"Come on," he urged them both up.

You collected yourself quickly, slicing him in the arm and throwing him and Mindy against the table. The sound of his wince caused your heart to break but at least he wasn't in your way anymore.

Turning, you gripped Anika and pulled her up by the throat, which wasn't that hard at how light she was to carry. You slammed her against the wall and drove the knife in her gut. She let out a scream that actually made you sad. You could feel yourself losing grip on your knife. Thankfully, you were hit in the head again, causing you to fall to the floor and drop Anika.

Sam dropped the knife dispenser and went reaching for Anika as she carried her inside Quinn's bedroom. Ethan and Mindy were following closely behind. You got up and slammed against the door, causing Sam and Ethan to push against you even harder.

You stopped, remembering the second entrance to Quinn's room. You ran around and almost got through until you saw Ethan immediately run to slam the door in your face. Without thinking, you slipped through the crack and swung your knife around which sliced his skin again, making him even more annoyed, putting full force in his last push. You fell back just as you heard Sam and Mindy put a dresser against it so you couldn't enter.

Would it be so bad to let them go? You were about to give up until you looked behind at where Quinn was playing dead and she gave you a head gesture, as if telling you to get through that door and do something.

You started to kick it, slam your body against it, and slowly but surely the door started to crack. You could finally see in and you saw that they were trying to leave through the window on a ladder, thanks to Danny. You rolled your eyes, growing psychically exhausted but you continued to push against the door, the dresser beginning to shake.

Purposely, you didn't use your strength. You wanted them to survive. Poor Anika made you see that once you saw the gutted look on her face. You weren't close with her but she was a nice girl and she deserved to live. So did Sam and Mindy. Especially so did Ethan.

Sam went first, you caught sight of her hair just as she made it through. Then, Ethan of course had to make sure one of the girls went before him. Mindy gave Anika a kiss, thinking it'd be their last as she shakily made it on the ladder and got through. You continued to slam against the door as you watched Ethan pick Anika up from the bed, walking her toward the window where he helped her get on the ladder and kept it stable for her.

She took awhile to get through that you unfortunately made it inside just as Ethan was barely exiting the window. You stalked toward it slowly because you knew you weren't going to let him die.

"Ethan, you have to hurry!" Sam and Mindy screamed.

He turned around and the scared look on his face could've been enough to kill you. You slammed your knife on the window sill and grabbed the ladder.

They all were expecting some foul play on your end, encouraging him to be quicker but you didn't. Instead, you held the ladder down and stabilized it for him. Sam watched in shock. She was the only one who noticed your action that had been completely out of character.

Ethan made it inside Danny's apartment a second after and they all looked at you. You tilted your head at them, pulling your knife out. Then, you were gone. You didn't even wait for Quinn because you needed to get out of that costume and in Ethan's arms as quick as possible.

[matan4il]

Most of the time, I don't bother talking about the hate and harassment I get, because I don't think haters deserve the attention. The person I'm gonna write about definitely doesn't deserve any, but they've started harassing others that I know of, not just me.

So this is basically a warning post for Jewish bloggers and bloggers who are allies to Jews, and a request for anyone who can, to report and block this person (if you want to warn other bloggers, then please consider a reblog, too). @staff, This is also for you, proof of a pattern of harassment and abuse. Please do something and protect your Jewish users and their allies.

They first commented here, denying the antisemitism of Hamas, with the url @grizzlyismyspiritanimal and they seem to change their url quite frequently. For now it's @fancowboy but expect that to change again. Since IDK if Tumblr will let the mention (@'ing their url) hyperlink to their blog, here's how you can check out what their current url is, so you can report and block them. Go to this post where they're tagged as @grizzlyismyspiritanimal and hover your mouse over their url, you'll see their blog pop up no matter what new url they changed to. Here's a screenshot of what that looks like:

Here's their first comment on my post, along with my reply. Tumblr arranges these comments with the oldest at the bottom, click to see the image better:

Of course they never provided a link sourcing their claim, instead they provided a link to an op ed, which was not written by anyone affiliated with Hamas. This link did not support their claim that "Hamas specifically stated," but that didn't stop them from ignoring the fact that they couldn't prove their claim. Next, they repeated an already refuted antisemitic conspiracy theory (and I linked them to a refuting source, which they just ignored), while using strawmen arguments (attacking statements I didn't make). Obviously, none of this addresses the point actually made in the post they were commenting on.

When I called them out on the antisemitism of their whole narrative, they pulled the "I can't be antisemitic, because I'm Jewish" line of defense, while also bragging in the same comment about not going the easy route by doing that:

I no longer believe people who say antisemitic things, and then use this defense, after several have been proven to have lied about being Jewish, but more importantly, and this is the point I made to @fancowboy, Jews are not immune to internalizing antisemitism, and repeating antisemitic narratives. But I was curious whether there was any sign of this person having any sense of a significant Jewish identity on their blog. When I went on there, one of the first posts I came acorss was an antisemitic one, claiming that Jews have stolen the Star of David from the Muslims... I know there are a lot of anti-Zionist Jews out there, and that many of them are very capable of saying antisemitic things, but I don't think even they would endorse this false claim.

What's ironic is that the post shares a screenshot from Wikipedia, which explicitly mentions that this Muslim kingdom that existed in the 13th century AD (roughly 700 years ago), adopted the six-pointed star, due to the Muslim belief that it was a symbol on the ring ("seal") of King Solomon, a Jewish king who lived about 3,000 years ago. In other words, this post literally points out that Muslims borrowed this symbol from Jews, not the other way around. And just for historical interest, the first archeological find of Jews using the Star of David is dated to the 6th century BC (around 2,600 years ago).

I pointed out to @grizzlyismyspiritanimal / @fancowboy that I no longer believe they're Jewish, because I don't believe any Jew would reblog this antisemitic lie. In response, not long after, this "I'm not a coward" and "you would've blocked me (aka fanatic)" person blocked me. Instead of addressing what I said, or taking responsibility for their wrongdoing, and deleting this antisemitic post. Our exchange started on Jan 5 IIRC, this post was reblogged by them on Jan 4, and as of Jan 25 it is still on their blog, as you can see here (post and current date highlighted in this screenshot):

A minute after they blocked me from the above blog, they commented on my pinned post with links to my fandom content from another blog, @verygardenerland and this comment made it clear that it was the same person. I made a mistake, I wanted my fandom space free from antisemitic harassment, so I deleted that comment, which means I don't have that piece of evidence that it's the same person, but I do have another bit of proof. Remember how this person claimed to be Jewish? This is how they presented it:

(again, using a strawmen, I never said all Muslims are terrorists, and never would, because it's simply not true, and if anyone made that claim to me, I would be correcting them)

Well, this is the VERY similar way @verygardenerland talked about their supposed Jewish identity, in a post they made solely to harass and DARVO (Deny, Attack, Reverse Victim and Offender) me:

Jews were almost completely ethnically cleansed from Muslim majority countries, so the likelihood of a random online stranger being a Jew from a Muslim country is generally incredibly low to almost non-existent, and two who just so happen to both harass me on my blog one minute apart is probably less statistically likely than winning the lottery.

It's poetic irony that the one comment the above post got from another blogger, is someone else also calling this person out on the antisemitism of what they're saying:

Gotta love the bonus misogyny with "bitch."

I'm also going to offer you this following antisemitic comment (which distorts the Holocaust, and refers to Jews insultingly as "the chosen ones"), which I also don't believe any person with an actual Jewish identity would make:

And here's also one of the last comments this person made from @fancowboy before blocking me on that blog and continuing from @verygardenerland. Just notice how we have the same antisemitic abuse themes from both of these blogs:

Once more, extra touch of misogyny with "that much of a pussy."

(I have to address the white phosphorus claim. There are 2 ways of using it in battle, one legal, the other's not. Israel stated that when using it, that's only in the legal way. There is no record to show the contrary. People just exploit the fact it's used, to pretend it's automatically illegal. But I accept this is an antisemitic libel against the Jewish state, that sadly some Jews might repeat. The rest is what makes me think this person isn't Jewish)

@verygardenerland noticed I write fandom meta, and harassed me on these posts. Here's one example:

Then they searched related tag/s, and proceeded to harass me by calling me names in comments they left on random posts from other fandom members. These are posts that had nothing to do with me. One of the people on whose post they were calling me a Nazi is someone I have never even spoken to. The OP deleted the harassing comment, but this time I did get a screenshot before that, so here it is, as an example:

Now, on top of all of the above, @verygardenerland also started stalking my main blog at the same time they made their first comment from this url, as well as my two back up blogs. One's last post was on Mar 2022, the other's on Apr 2021, so it's completely pointless to follow them, other than as an intimidation tactic:

And they sent me anon hate. The thing is, they made it explicitly clear through what they said and the language they used, that it's them. They sent more than one message, but the one I'll attach here was obviously meant to freak me out the most, because it falsely starts out as a fandom ask, and then transitions into abusive language, as well as telling me there's more blogs they're stalking me from, basically making it clear that even if I block this url, I'll still not be safe from their stalking and abuse:

From a certain point on, I told them that whenever they make a comment to me, all I'll do is just remind them repeatedly that they're an antisemite, which is exactly what I've kept to. That's when I even bothered to respond. I postponed blocking their second blog, 'coz I wanted to put this post together first. Now I'm done with them.

To wrap this up, here are some final screenshots of their antisemitic abuse, how they obsessively comment on my posts, or posts that in their mind are related to me, and how they have started directly addressing random people who are commenting on my posts, telling them not to talk to "it," meaning they're also using de-humanizing language when referring to me, and of course once more employing the DARVO tactic by accusing me of that which they're guilty of:

My activity feed yesterday:

And not just yesterday. Love the bonus hateful language towards those who are disabled...

And this is just one of their comments on a post simply mourning the death of Israeli soldiers, and putting it in the context of multi-generational Jewish trauma:

To summarize again, please:

report and block this person

reblog this post if you feel comfortable to, in order to warn others

@staff please do something to stop the abuse. Thank you in advance!

[terrifyingly-overthought]

Uzi thunk…pls…

"Uzi Doorman those things killed your frikin' mother"

Did you know that Uzi's on the villains wiki? Bc I sure didn't.

Anyway Uzi Doorman hcs under the cut

Main character time lets go, jumping straight into this one:

Uzi will eventually turn into a murder drone (see my post about N for details)

Uzi absolutely refuses to say that she's dating N on principle (this is a lie and she knows it)

Uzi is always really tired, doesn't matter how much sleep she got

Uzi got over killing people waaayy too fast for everyone else's liking

Uzi's slover runs hotter than the dds but she needs to be colder, so she has to drink a LOT of oil

Uzi's tail sometimes gets stuck to things with it's spines

She tries to have a decent relationship with her dad sometimes: but it's hard to get through to him

Uzi wants to be a parent just solely so she can prove to Khan that she would be a better parent than him

Uzi sometimes experiments with her admin rights for N and V while they sleep (she once set their eyes to flash with rainbow colours and had a midnight disco on her own)

Uzi uses the healing powers of the solver to make even more dangerous tools and weapons without the risk of getting hurt

If Uzi ever found Beetlejuice the musical, she would spend days just listening to the soundtrack

Same with a lot of musicals and bands actually

The last time Khan left Uzi alone in the house for more than 12 hours, a large section of the bunker was lit on fire and destroyed

Uzi is oddly supportive of all the weird things N gets up to in the worker colony

V however has been shouted at multiple times for dropping on top of drones from the ceiling

The books Uzi uses to reach her locker are textbooks on doors that her dad wrote

She is the only one in her class that finds it weird that they can't just download the knowledge into their storage like, you know, a robot would

If she could find the spare parts, she would modify herself in any way possible (starting with extendable legs)

Uzi loves any weapon she can get her hands on and is thoroughly disappointed by her lack of claws from the solver

Uzi has a personal vendetta against a pipe that runs through her classroom after it burst and nearly short-circuited her

Uzi would be top of her class if she ever bothered to do the actual work

And if Lizzy didn't always get her dad to lower Uzi's grades

Uzi still hasn't figured out how to bypass her automatic censors, so every time she tries to properly swear she just goes *beep*

Khan fully blames N and V for activating Uzi's solver

Uzi occasionally will sleep hanging upside-down with N if they are caught out by the sun while hunting together

That's about it for this post, there are more but they start going a bit off the wall after here

Currently writing this instead of preparing for my art exam on Monday, 10 hours of lovely silence to enjoy being understimulated as all balls in... yay :(

At least I might get in some more thinking then