OKAY SERIOUSLY ONCE I FORCED MY BOYS TO GO TO FOREVER 21 WITH ME AND THE TALLEST IS 6’2” ON A GOOD DAY AND I HELD ONE OF THESE UP TO HIM AND IT STILL TOUCHED THE GODDAMN GROUND THEYRE DESIGNING MAXI DRESSES FOR FUCKING HIGH ELVES
Gang would anyone want to see any bjorn x reader content??? I just watched alien romulus and I am READY to write about it omg!! Send any requests my way if you'd like <33
SUMMARY: Just hours before you’re due to marry a man you don’t love, Dabi comes to change your mind; as it turns out, you don't need too much persuasion.
WORD COUNT: 2.3k
You sat, staring at your reflection - the stylist nervously tried to meet your eyes in the mirror. She had spent three hours - and quite possibly half the world’s supply of hairpins - drawing your hair into the elegant
“It’s lovely.” You said, attempting to mask the disappointment in your voice - but judging by the way your soon-to-be mother-in-law rolled her eyes and huffed, you were still a bad liar.
Over the year that you had known the woman, the only thing you seemed to have in common was a mutual dislike for one another. You were not the sort of bride she wanted for her son; maybe it was the way you didn’t fall over yourself at the opportunity to spend time with the beyond dull boy - or maybe it was the way that XYZ. Either way, she had really mastered that expression of distaste she wore (which you could only imagine was paired with her envisioning you being run over by a bus). But she tolerated you nevertheless and you did the same for her. Engagements like your own were rarely anything to do with love or feelings or whatever you wanted - they were strictly business.
Quirk marriages were much more common than most people would’ve liked to believe; they paid well too. You’d been found by the guy’s father - an owner of a wealthy demolition company - who knew your quirk would be an invaluable asset to their business. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, but at least money would never be an issue for you again.
“Thank you,” You smiled sympathetically at the stylist, who seemed unable to exhale fully - glancing between you and the other woman with wide, doe eyes.
She seemed to relax a little before your mother-in-law took her by the elbow and pulled her into the doorway - as if standing a few feet away suddenly made you incapable of hearing their hushed voices.
Shutting your eyes, you exhaled slowly - as if, with enough determination, you could expel the tightness in your ribs through your breath. Your legs buzzed with adrenaline that only seemed to worsen as the ceremony drew closer and your head was starting to feel slightly too light for the rest of your body - as though a strong wind would dispel your skull into a wisp of smoke.
Just as you began to half-heartedly wonder if you might be about to vomit: your phone buzzed. The text from an unknown number flashed up on the screen.
Last chance.
Quickly, you swiped the message away - averting your gaze, instead focusing on the colours of nail polish picked out for you. You had no idea that there could be so many shades of white: eggshell, light ivory, pearl, fresh snow, bone china, chiffon, porcelain, dark ivory-
I’ll be outside in twenty-five.
You stared at the text, your legs becoming more restless than ever. You could practically hear his low voice and smug tone in the sans serif. He was so sure of himself; so arrogant. Who did he think he was? Expecting you to follow him wherever he went, well over a year after you’d told him that you were giving up work with the league of villains. Expecting that you’d just abandon everything you’d worked for - to build a new identity and to cover your tracks so you could leave it all behind - just because he goddamn asked.
It was only as your fiancé’s mother reentered the room - meek hairstylist in tow - that you tore your gaze from your phone.
“Don’t do that with your face.” She scoffed and you were suddenly aware of your deep scowl. Despite trying to relax your expression, you still felt the hot redness in your cheeks.
She continued, “Plenty of girls would kill to be where you’re sitting. I don’t see why you have to go and spoil it for everyone else.” She turned back to the stylist and resumed her string of complaints and general dissatisfaction, occasionally jabbing a finger in your direction.
You tried to follow a string of deep breaths - in and out, in and then fucking out - but Dabi’s stupid, snarky voice still rang in your mind.
The pair of you had always argued like your respective lives depended on it. To the untrained eye, strangers would have assumed your relationship to be beyond dysfunctional - but insults and generally winding each other up was just how you both communicated. It ranged anywhere from flirty teasing to pettiness to flat-out screaming matches - but it was never truly malicious. Even after the most seemingly brutal throwdown, you both continued like nothing had happened - with a casual Do you want takeout tonight? or a simple See you later, babe and a peck on the cheek. Somewhere along the way, being at each other's throats became being more-or-less joined at the hip. And as quick as you were to poke fun at one another and compete - you were still (literally) partners in crime and made a killer team.
Leaving him was one of the hardest things you had ever done. But it was a decision you had to make.
Again, the phone buzzed - sliding across the table a little.
Now or never.
You exhaled - biting back a smile - the fucking cheek of this man. You were tempted to text back Now-or-never my ass, but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a response. Now or never had become a secret between the two of you: a reference to your first meeting that you’d drop into as many situations and missions with the league as possible. He’d shouted it from the street below, trying to convince you to take the leap out of a fourth storey window after him; you’d whispered it in his ear while pressed up against him, hiding between shipping containers. It was a prayer to your relationship; a promise. All referencing that first chance meeting.
—
You stumbled through the snowy alleyway, still reeling from excitement - and, now that you thought about it, smoke inhalation. You hadn’t burnt something like that in a long time. Probably ever. Sure, as a child you scorched the odd tablecloth and spent your awkward teenage years nervously causing whatever you held in your hands smoke haphazardly - but to truly, completely burn something: that was new. You were fed up with lighting people’s cigarettes and melting their frozen car doors and listening to the frankly endless (and sub-par) swathes of spark-based pick up lines. For once in your goddamn life, you got to burn something.
The night air was freezing; turning your breath to fog in the dark. Despite your blackened clothes and singed hair, the cold numbed your fingers and you were suddenly very aware of your choice to wear flip flops in February. You had only meant to make a quick trip out of your flat to the shop downstairs; had you known that you were going to be making your debut as a record sprinter, you probably would have chosen something a little more robust. Each step through the wintry slush left your feet dripping and even in the dim, yellowy light of the alley, you could see your toes beginning to turn blue.
Hopefully this place wasn’t too far - if it even existed.
You reached a metal door - dented and dimly lit by a flickery yellow light over the frame - and, before you could convince yourself otherwise, knocked. Do you knock at a villain’s hideout? Stepping back from the door, you steadied your breathing - a group of drunken men walked past the opening of the alley, shoving each other and slurring.
Was this even the right place? You rarely found yourself on this side of the city and your melted phone had about the functionality of a deformed paperweight. Conversations with odd people in stairwells or strangers smoking out the back of the kitchen where you worked were all you had to find the league of villains. Conversations with people that you really shouldn’t trust.
The clunk of bolts being undone, followed by the scrape of metal-on-metal pulled you from your thoughts. Hinges groaning, the door swung half-open.
For a moment, it was as though it had opened by itself; breath caught in your throat you stared into the unlit building - but a few feet back from the doorway, the shape of a person shifted. His voice was low and gravely when he spoke.
“Coming in?”
Opening your mouth - vaguely aware of your brain screaming as you sprint back down the alley - you managed a hoarse Uhhh.
Another moment passed, the quiet filled by your soft breath turning to fog. A van rumbled past on the road and you caught yourself glancing back, watching as it rolled by.
“You’re letting the cold in.” He said. “Now or never.”
Oh, fuck it. Turning back to the door you laughed weakly - sounding like something between a cough and a sore throat. “Suppose it better be now then,”
The stranger stepped back and a yellowy strip of light crossed his face, illuminating his features. His skin was littered with scars - you recognised them as burns. Over the years of not being able to control your fire quirk, you had plenty of your own. But beneath them he was young, no older than you.
His eyes crinkled slightly and he grinned - which sent jolts of fear and excitement through your chest again.
“Come on then, sparky.”
—
It was the eleventh time that your phone buzzed - two minutes before the ceremony was to start - that you gave in.
You jumped out of your seat, the bridesmaid (who you barely even knew) and had been fixing your hair stumbled back.
“I- Uh,” you stammered as the other bridesmaids turned to stare at you. “I’m going to the toilet.”
And you took off.
You stumbled out of the door and down the hallway in eight layers of tulle and shoes that were horrendously uncomfortable. You took a left, then a right, then a left again - until you found an open window.
Good enough.
With no further thought, you forced the window as wide as it would go and shimmied through - tumbling out and into a bush.
As you attempted to pull yourself out and untangle your stupidly poofy skirt - which had caught in the branches - you heard a familiar laugh.
“Wow. Bit desperate to leave are we?”
You whipped around, finding yourself face-to-face with Dabi.
“Didn’t think you missed me that much,”
You opened your mouth, but no words came out and your brain was suddenly empty. Butterflies erupted in your stomach - the boy who you hadn’t seen in over a year was still able to make you nervous.
He grinned - oh how you’d missed that - and laughed again. “You look gorgeous, Doll.”
“Thanks, I’ve always loved the dragged-backwards-through-a-hedge look.” you said, dryly, before adding. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He stepped forwards - rolling his eyes; offering a hand to pull you out of the bush. “Oh, how you flatter me.”
Accepting the hand, you let him heave you out of the bush - pulling you far closer than necessary. You stood practically against his chest, having to crane your neck slightly to look him in the eyes.
You swallowed and felt your face grow warm.
God, he knew just how to make you feel sixteen all over again.
“I see you still like to leave everything until the last minute.” He said, glancing down at his watch. “I texted you ages ago.”
You scoffed. “An hour at most–”
“–Two hours.”
You glanced at his watch. 10:59. “I’ve still got a minute - there’s still time for me to marry that guy!” You threatened, unable to hide your grin. “Don’t test me!”
He raised an eyebrow. “Just curious - with or without the dragged-backwards-through-a-hedge look?”
“I’ll do it.”
You narrowed your eyes, holding his gaze: both locked in a semi-serious staredown. Standing there, his dark hair falling into his eyes; his arm around your waist tightening every-so-slightly, was the person you had thought of every day for the last year. At night, as you stared at the ceiling he had been the one that you wished was by your side. At every fancy dinner and business party; every dress fitting and stupid, stupid charity ball that you had gone to with your husband-to-be - you had wished he was holding your hand.
And now he was here, holding you close. Staring you down like an asshole.
"I've missed you." You blurted out. It came out slightly disjointed and stilted, surprising you both a little. He glances down at your lips.
He smiled - with only a hint of his usual smugness. "I've missed you too, Sweetheart,"
He leant down, quickly kissing you. It wasn't long or passionate or hot. Just a regular, discrete peck on the lips.
But, God, did it make you fall in love all over again.
The sound of a door opening and voices flooding into the street came from around the corner. Dabi took a step back and turned to you with that slightly-terrifying, but oh-so-exhilarating grin.
“What do you say we get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He extended his hand to you, faking a courteous bow and in return you grinned and curtseyed. Giggling slightly, you put your hand in his and he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles - winking up at you.
"Touya Todoroki, I never knew you were such a gentleman!"
"If you ever tell anyone, I'll have to kill you"
For a moment, his tone is so serious that you almost believe him; even more worryingly, you don’t seem to care. But then he smiles and tugs on your hand.
"C'mon, I hate weddings."
"Me too." You giggled.
With your hand in his, you both took off running.
NOTES: This is actually a rewrite of something I wrote last year to try to ease me back into writing! I've missed it sooo much over exams but ngl when i sat down to finally write again the absolute DRIVEL that came out of my head wasn't worthy of seeing the light of day. Please send over any requests you might have!! im desperate for some inspo atm!!
all your stuffed animals love you. they're not sad if they're in a box, or on the floor, or not held/played with as much. they understand. they know that you might need another stuffie more, or that you don't have enough space. they're just happy to be with you, and if you ever give them away, they'll be happy there too. stuffies are for comfort. they understand. they love you too. it's okay.
Hello! Just read your Clumsy fic with Leon x Reader. It was very good and very true to my daily life😅
I was wondering if you do any angst? Like severely injured and the other person(in this case Leon or the Reader) is extremely worried and trying to save them. Ultimately you can choose if they die or not, but I just love the comfort when the other is dying or bleeding out.
Keep up the amazing work! And also may I draw a scene if you end up writing it? Please and thank you🥰🥰😚
Live to see another day - Leon Kennedy x fem!Reader
notes: ok so remember when RE4 was still relevant like two months ago and I said "hey guys, I've got this fic that'll be finished by friday!" and now its july???? Im so sorry and tysm for the request aussie,,, I loved writing this sm!!!!!!
Summary: You get shot, but Leon is trained in first aid by Saint John's Ambulance (I will write a summary when I'm less tired <3)
warnings: descriptions of injury, blood, guns - nothing too bad, all just average RE stuff, mentions of alcohol
This was not the kind of Thursday you had expected. Pulling a bandage from your kit you tried to remember your first aid training, but cold seemed to make your mind sluggish. The snow fell heavier; the clouds overhead and fields blending into a grey-white mass.
This was supposed to be a simple mission; a quick in-and-out job. You and Leon had been sent to talk to some locals in a remote mountain town - just gather some information about the hiker disappearances. They had all been friendly and happy to share what they knew; it was odd talking to people who genuinely had no interest in hurting you, but you welcomed the surprise. Yet - as always seemed to be the way - not everyone was friendly. Especially not the man who shot you. Yeah, he wasn’t very nice at all actually.
Apply pressure
Yeah, alright. Apply pressure - okay.
Inhaling deeply, you surveyed the damage on your leg. Your black trousers were soaked in - what you could only imagine to be - blood and clung to your leg. From where you sat you could now see back the way you came. Your stomach dropped. A trail of blood - your blood - cut through pristine white snow. You glanced back down at your leg again; the fabric sticking to your skin. Shakily, you lifted your hands onto the wound. This was going to hurt.
You pressed down on the gaping wound in your leg. A hiss escaped your mouth, followed by a string of curses. Blinking quickly you tried to focus on breathing steadily as stars danced before your eyes.
Fucking hell, ouch. Fuck.
Leon, where are you?
Squeezing your eyes shut you remembered the young blonde-haired Leon's boyish grin. He used to be so naïeve and keen. The day he'd asked you out he had practically skipped away afterwards - turning back twice to smile at you and awkwardly offering a little wave before he finally turned the corner.
He had grown a lot since then; you both had. Even so, he never lost his playful nature - something you were glad for. It wasn’t quite the same - since as Leon grew more confident, he also realised how nervous he could make you - which meant that he now knew exactly how to tease you and make you blush. His newfound cockiness just attracted you to him all the more.
Flurries of snow had begun to settle in your hair. It was really cold. Your feet hurt from the cold; your face stung.
I need to get up.
I can't stay here.
With a surge or determination you hauled yourself up into a crouch - then a stand. Pain clawed up your thigh as your muscles cramped and sent you reeling into a nearby tree. Setting your jaw you huffed out a breath.
I'm not fucking dying here.
You took one step, pausing to let the agony rising in your chest settle again - still half-leaning on the tree. Setting off, you made it a few more steps before you faltered. Feeling a stab of pain through your leg, you sucked in the freezing air. As you tried to hobble onwards, one misstep became two and then became five, before you lost your balance entirely. Veering towards the ground, you shot out your hands. At the cost of grazing your hands across the jagged rocks, you were just able to catch yourself. Pausing for a moment, you let the shock of the impact with the hard surface pass, taking deep breaths.
The skin on your hands was raw. It stung in the frigid air. Despite the cold that seemed to overcome the rest of your body, your leg had this burning ache - as if someone was driving a hot poker straight into your bone.
Something about the eerie silence and monochrome surroundings seemed to undermine time. The signal on your radio had gone dead long ago - something strange about this remote mountain village frying the circuits. To your numb body, struggling through the pain of walking didn’t seem worthwhile. Instead you lay, curled up - as best you could with the state of your leg - in the snow.
I’m going to die, aren’t I?
I don’t want to die.
I’m so cold.
Then there came a far off sound. The crunching of footfall in the snow.
"Y/N?"
You froze.
"Y/N?" His voice came again, this time sharper; louder.
"Leon?" You said, your voice small and hoarse, you tried to push yourself up off the ground, which was not a good idea as it dragged your leg across the gravel. A string of curses leapt from your mouth.
“Woah, woah-” He knelt at your side, pulling you up into a sitting position with a hand under each of your arms. "Shit, what happened? You're freezing."
Leaning into his side, you struggled to form words - instead fisting your hands in his coat as you tried to think. The sudden brightness of the white snow made your head buzz, a dull ache running through it.
"I dunno." You grumbled. "Got shot, I guess."
"You guess?" Leon echoed. Although his tone was snarky, you knew he was just trying to keep you calm and focused. He fumbled with his radio in his free hand. "Hunnigan? We're going to need that helicopter after all."
The sharp pain now spanned the whole of your leg - as though it were resonating up and down the bone. In a single, swift motion, Leon reached over, pressing his palm down onto the wound. You gasped, unintentionally jerking your leg.
“Easy,” He spoke softly, as though to a small, frightened animal - which you supposed was appropriate. “Easy there, deep breaths,”
Remaining firm, he kept his hand in place; you couldn’t help but admire his unwavering confidence. Any kind of hesitation or mistake would have just caused you more pain,
You grit your teeth, inhaling as he said. Out of the corner of your eye you could see his grimace; the way his nose wrinkled up at the sight of your leg. You couldn’t blame him, the dried blood gave off a sickening metallic smell. You gagged.
“Hey, Y/N?” His tone was playful - maybe a little more upbeat than he intended - an overcompensation to hide the anxious undertone.
“Hm?” You replied - not necessarily disinterested, but more focused on breathing normally.
"Do you remember when we met?"
You furrowed your brow. Inhale, exhale. "What?"
"Don't you remember? That time at the party? I vomited in your car."
The memory flooded back.
The base was loud enough that you felt it buzzing in your feet more than you could hear it clearly. The twenty - maybe thirty? - people throughout the darkened apartment didn’t really seem to care. Or notice, for that matter.
Despite being a party consisting almost entirely of trainee officers - there was an awful lot of “drunk and disorderly” going on. Not to mention a fair amount of “Indecent exposure” and without a doubt “possession” of some substances. But, hey, you weren’t going to ruin their vibe.
This definitely wasn’t really your scene.
You hovered in beside the doorway to the kitchen - unsure of what to do with yourself. It felt wrong to leave so early, but your friends had long since abandoned you and it wasn’t as though they’d miss you anyway. A girl you knew stumbled past you - her blonde hair recognisable anywhere - and for a moment you thought about saying hi. Then you noticed the boy she had in tow, who seemed to be getting awfully handsy.
Yeah, I’ll just leave them to it.
Abandoning your cup of - let’s be real - who-knows-what, you awkwardly squeezed through the crowd towards the front door. A few boys whistled at you as you tried to slip past them and out into the bleakly lit hallway. Although it was slightly easier to ignore as they were all drunk out their minds - it still made you wrinkle up your nose in disgust.
The door clicked shut behind you, muffling the noise of the party. Letting out a sigh, you stared blankly down the corridor, allowing your eyes to adjust to the brightness.
“Those guys are dicks.”
You whipped your head around comically fast, confused as to who had spoken.
“Down here,” He added and you turned, seeing him sat neatly beside the door, just at your feet. He didn’t look at you, instead staring at the wall across from him. Even if you hadn’t been able to smell the beer, you could tell from the way he loosely gripped the bottle that he was smashed.
“Oh - uh, yeah.” you replied.
“I don’t even like parties.” He said, looking up at you. “I have no idea why I’m here.”
As you held his gaze, shrugging sympathetically - you suddenly were able to place his face. He sat next to you in one of your lectures - it must have been a dull one, because you also remembered (making your face heat up a little) that you had spent a considerable amount of time thinking how cute he was.
What was his name?
Somehow he looked completely different here - instead of being so tightly strung and nervous that he looked as though he might just collapse if anyone so much as looked at him, he seemed freer; calmer. His hair was messier too, you noticed, as he pushed it back out of his eyes - setting off butterflies in your stomach.
Leon. That was it.
“If it helps, it’s not really my scene either. I’m headed home,” you offered with a small smile.
"I don't know if you've noticed," He said, matter-of-factly. "But I'm quite drunk, actually."
You stifled a giggle - he was much more fun to talk to like this, rather than his up-tight one word responses. If you were honest, you stopped trying with him within the first few classes, as he never seemed that interested in what you had to say and the moment class ended he suddenly became some kind of record sprinter to leave the lecture theatre.
"I could tell,"
He raised his eyebrows, nodding seriously. "Smart girl,"
For a slightly too long moment he paused and you watched as he searched for his words. It was unbearably cute to see the blonde-haired boy furrowing his brow, clearly thinking as hard as his intoxicated mind would allow.
"I'd like to go home, but I can’t drive,” He said and then suddenly looked deeply dejected, as though the weight of his words just hit him. He let out a huff and ran his hand through his hair again. “I hate parties.”
On any other occasion, you would have left the strange drunk guy in the corridor, where he belonged - no matter how cute he was.
Yet here you were, at two am with a very smashed Leon Kennedy in the passenger seat. It was lucky that you hadn’t touched your cup of mysterious liquid at the party, because driving with a passenger who has just vomited into a plastic bag four (maybe five?) times was surprisingly difficult. He was weirdly apologetic about the whole thing, groaning and holding his head.
“I promise I’m not normally this bad.” He gagged again. “God, I’m sorry.”
You tried to sound reassuring as you spoke, but the vile smell was enough to make you gag as well. Although driving quickly would have gotten you out of the rancid car sooner, every time you turned a corner or hit a pothole - the poor boy beside you grew paler.
“It’s ok!” you said, perhaps sounding a little too reassuring, your voice rising several octaves. Although it was possible that he wasn’t used to drinking - you thought, glancing over at Leon, whose knuckles had gone white holding the plastic bag - this was more likely to be something worse. “Not much further now,”
It was lucky the road was empty - as it neared twelve fifty - because you braked much more suddenly than you meant to, lurching both of you forwards slightly. Leon swore and threw a hand over his mouth. You swallowed, trying your best to ignore the retching coming from the seat beside you.
“Wow,” Leon said, his voice raspy. “This is a great way to impress girls.”
That made you laugh. Though you felt a little mean thinking it, you really got the idea that this guy didn’t get around as much as you first thought. He was attractive, sure, in a sort of pretty way - but he gave this overwhelming feeling of lameness; he was constantly sheepish.
Exactly my type.
“Oh, yeah - I bet all the ladies love this.” you grinned. “Remind me to arrange our second date once I’ve gotten the smell of sick out of my car.”
He actually laughed, sounding considerably more sober than when he got in. Although you wouldn’t want to admit it, the sound made your heart skip a beat.
“Wait, so in this hypothetical scenario - I convinced you to come on a date with me?” he said. You could feel him looking at you. “Hypothetical me must be a real charmer.”
Okay, so he definitely was not as sober as you had thought. Heat rushed into your face as you desperately tried to remind yourself that he was drunk. He probably just flirts with everyone when he’s drunk.
He continued. "Y'know, when I see you in class, I'm normally too scared to even talk to you."
You risked a glance over at him, finding him now staring out of the window into the dark. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, you're like," He paused. "Way out of my league"
Leon was clearly not sober, but spoke with such openness that it was difficult to not take what he said seriously. You focused on the road ahead of you, stopping at a red light - even though the junction was empty. The quiet in the car was by no means uncomfortable, perhaps the knowledge that he wasn’t going to remember this took most of the pressure away. His presence was so unobtrusive - calming, even - that it felt as though you had been friends for years. Although he may not have noticed it, you felt a distinct shift in the air between you. He'd started something; laid the groundwork for something to be built between the two of you. He’d given you a glimpse of who the two of you could be. And once he was sober again, in your next 09.00 AM lecture - he would feel the shift too.
Within a few minutes you pulled up outside his flat - this time doing your best to roll to a stop gradually. He thanked you, a little awkwardly, and apologised for the vomit smell. You smiled and insisted it was no problem. And that was it; he waited outside the door, speaking into the intercom and then disappeared into the flat a moment later.
It was a strange memory. Somehow, with only a few words, he had caught your attention. The whole way home you had thought about him; waiting anxiously for your next lecture.
Leon adjusted his grip on your leg, which left you hissing in pain - grabbing onto his upper arm. Each breath of icy air stung at your lungs, leaving your head spinning even more violently.
“Yeah, I remember.” You said. “What about it?”
Leon tipped his head in place of a shrug - avoiding putting you in any more pain - and grinned. “I have absolutely no clue what happened that night.”
That was new. You felt sure you’d heard him talk about it before: to friends - or even family, occasionally - when they asked how you met. As you considered it, he did tend to stay quiet, letting you tell the story - only chipping in with the odd comment. After all, he was practically off his head that night.
Letting out a breathy laugh, you half-grinned; half-grimaced. “I never knew that.” You tilted your head to look up at him, continuing with eager curiosity. “So - wait - did you just think that I just randomly started to talk to you, after like a year of us mutually sitting in silence?”
He laughed. “Something like that.”
Mildly bemused, you snorted. “Oh my God, Leon - if you told me that back then I would have just about died.”
It was true. Even though, as you got older, your self confidence seemed to grow - back then you were no more than a gangly twenty year-old, who would have crumpled at the first sign of rejection. Embarrassed may as well have been your middle name, since you spent so much time convinced that everyone else thought you were an idiot.
“Hey, I wasn’t complaining,” He said. “When the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen starts chatting to you like you’ve been friends forever - you don’t question it!”
Even after nearly a decade - he still made you blush.
“Prettiest?”
“Mhm.”
As you struggled to find an answer that wouldn’t make you sound like either a disgustingly soppy romantic or socially inept teenage girl, your attention came back to your surroundings. With Leon there and the shock subsiding, you felt substantially warmer; your pulse was no longer thundering in your ears and while the pain was still by no means bearable, Leon had successfully kept your mind off of it.
“D’you know how long until someone will get here?” You asked after a moment.
“Not long now, " he said, glancing off into the sky, perhaps waiting to hear the hum of a helicopter in the thick cloud. “It’ll be fine, Y/N.”
And after another seven minutes, you would see that he was right; it would be fine. You’d be operated on by one of the best doctors that the government could muster up and - without too much more hassle, you lived to see another day.
AN: how do you finish fics?????? I just run out of plot and end it like a terrible sitcom?????
…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.
always bothers me when "improvements" to unhealthy diets are all about taking tasty things away rather than ADDING new things. like. add new tastes and new flavours and MORE NUTRIENTS and vitamins
there was some awful show on for encouraging middle class mothers to take their eating disorders out on their children and it was like "oh well, this snack doesn't taste as good as my usual one, but it's healthier"
so get one that??? actually tastes as good?
like this thing of. you know this food that you like and enjoy eating? why don't you toss all that out and eat stuff you don't enjoy as much or want to eat?
that's unhinged to me.
like i just think the process of discovering newer, healthier foods should be ADDITIVE, where you're exploring new tastes alongside your usual ones, slowly broadening your palate and your preferences, rather than punishing yourself for "unhealthy" food
god i feel so strongly about this bc i could not figure out how to strike a balance between “eating foods that make me feel good” and “not relapsing back into disordered eating habits” until i switched my mindset from “i need to remove unhealthy foods from my diet” to “i need to figure out which foods makes me feel good and add them to my diet”
examples:
moving from “i want a snack. chips sound really good, but i can’t eat chips because they’re unhealthy, so i guess i just won’t eat anything” to “i want a snack. chips sound really good, so i’m gonna eat some, but because i haven’t had any fruits or veggies today, i’m gonna eat some grapes with them”
moving from “i’m craving a burger and fries from mcdonald’s, but that’s unhealthy, so i’m just gonna eat some plain brown rice and grilled chicken even though those don’t sound good” to “im craving mcdonald’s, but last time i ate that it upset my stomach, so i don’t think eating it would make me feel good. but i think what my craving is telling me is that i need carbs and protein, so how about i make some steak and mashed potatoes for dinner?”
moving from “i’m in too much pain to cook tonight, but frozen food is unhealthy, so i just won’t eat anything” to “im in too much pain to cook tonight, so im gonna eat a frozen meal, but im gonna add some pre-cooked chicken and frozen spinach to it because i think the protein and veggies will make my body feel good”
and honestly this has been so much better for me and i feel so much better both physically and mentally than when i was just focused on “i can’t eat anything that’s Unhealthy”
I've also found that if I'm DESPERATELY craving sugar or want to eat ALL THE CARBS RIGHT NOW, it's almost always because I haven't eaten enough that day, or haven't eaten recently enough, and my body is trying to get me to pay attention to the fact I need some energy ASAP.
So it can be useful for me to go "well, I just realized I haven't eaten in six hours, so how about I make a sandwich and see how I feel, and then I can ALSO have some cookies if I still want some" instead of just having the cookies and feeling bad and headachey later because I didn't have any protein or anything with it. Sometimes I still want a cookie, and sometime I don't, but I don't get that gross sugar bonk feeling.
I'm glad to see a post like this on my dashboard. Some important insights:
Taking away food unless for something like allergies or the above reason of the food upsetting your stomach is rarely, if ever, the answer
Whether you eat a plain avocado or guacamole with chips, you still ate an avocado in both instances. The avocado didn't get cancelled out. No matter how you eat something, you are still receiving that food's nutrients
Eating vegetables and fruits in an appetizing way to you is far better and far healthier than never eating those fruits or vegetables at all
Every food can be part of a "healthy diet." There is no such thing as an "unhealthy food." Cake still gives your body nutrients even though society has demonized it. Your body needs fats and carbohydrates.
If your body is craving sugar, it's almost certainly because you have been restricting sugar. "Sugar addiction" doesn't exist. When you hold your breath and restrict oxygen, gulping for air after you stop holding your breath is not because you have an oxygen addiction. It's because you restricted something your body needs to survive and it is now desperately trying to get back what was taken away for that period of time. The problem of the restriction-binge cycle is not the binge, it's the restriction.
Intuitive eating is incredibly important. It's what we are born to do, listening to what our bodies tell us. When you intuitively eat, your body regulates its food intake and diet on its own. Please research it and give it a try! It's the act of eating without diet culture and is necessary in order to eliminate disordered eating. Intuitive eating can also be adjusted according to your health needs. And for people who struggle with feeling hunger indicators due to something like ADHD or past eating disorders, a method that can help is setting reminders to eat periodically throughout the day.
Eating anything at all is always better than starvation. Always.
Food and exercise have been proven to have little actual effect on weight. Weight is not a calculation of food minus exercise. There are so many factors that decide a person's weight. Intentional weight loss has even been proven to be so unsustainable that 95% of people who lose weight gain it all back and often more than what they started with in 3-5 years. And that is even if they "did everything the right way" and "had the willpower." No amount of dieting, starving, exercising, weight loss pills, surgeries, etc. will make you thin forever if your body was never meant to be thin.
The most important fact on this list: Fatness is not bad in the first place. Fatness is not a death sentence. Fatness is not ugly or even proven to cause ill health (any researcher can tell you that correlation and causation are not the same and should never, ever be equated to each other, and I can especially tell you that after taking my graduate level research course). Whatever you are doing to chase or maintain thinness is not only useless but usually ends up resulting in the ill health you fear. Ending diet culture also means ending fatphobia. Fat people deserve respect, positive representation, kindness, compassion, and to be treated with humanity just like thin people are.
Yeah, I thought about addressing that since frozen food is often the most accessible food for people at risk of not eating at all plus the fact that frozen food isn't evil either. I guess I forgot to. I'm assuming maybe the person was referring to frozen food having like extra salt added to help the taste or how, from what I've heard, fresh vegetables have more of their nutrients compared to when they're frozen. But frozen food is still good, a "healthy diet" can still consist of just frozen food, and frozen vegetables are still vegetables with nutrients. It is completely morally neutral to eat frozen food, just like how it's morally neutral to eat any other food.
summary: You injure yourself; Leon wishes you'd be more careful.
You wished you had been looking where you had been going. Maybe then, you wouldn't have had to experience the horrible moment of free-fall as you realise that you've overstepped slightly and are about to tumble down the stairs. On your way down, not only did you smack your head into the wall - giving yourself a nosebleed - and crack your phone screen, but you landed on your ankle at an awkward angle.
Which really fucking hurt.
For a moment, you lay in a pathetic heap at the bottom of the stairwell - stunned by the whole experience. It was only when you heard Leon’s voice from several flights up that you snapped out of your daze.
“Y/N, Have you got the keys?” You quickly heaved yourself up into a sitting position, rummaging through your pockets - which contained no keys.
Shit.
You could picture them, still sat on your coffee table - now locked inside your flat.
Even from there, you could practically hear the teasing grin on his face as he added. “You always forget them.”
Sighing, you moved to stand - using the handrail to heave yourself up.
“I don’t have them.” You groaned. “God, I’m sorry, I’ve got to stop-”
Pain shot up through your leg - forcing a surprised yelp out of your throat. You veered sideways, grabbing the handrail for support as you doubled over in agony.
“Y/N?”
Leon’s footsteps echoed as he thundered down the stairs, calling your name again.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Ow, fuck.
Blood dripped out of your nose - the warm wetness running down your chin - clumsily you wiped it away, smearing red across your hand.
“Y/N!”
The panic in Leon’s usually steady voice made you feel a little ill (or maybe it was the way your head spun after daring to peer down at your ankle, which seemed to be at an interesting angle). You were by no means squeamish; in your line of work there simply wasn’t room to be. But in that moment - at eleven forty-four at night, in the stairwell of your flat - you weren’t feeling so brave.
Leon rounded the corner and took the last flight of stairs three at a time - practically skidding to a halt beside you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, allowing you to lean on him as he slowly lowered you to the ground.
“What happened?” He scanned your body; swearing quietly as he took in the blood (which although was only from your nose, you realised looked quite worrying when it was smeared across your shirt and hands). “Shit, Y/N. I’m going to call someone-”
He moved to stand and you grabbed his shoulder. “I’m alright!” You blurted out, your voice shaking a little. “Seriously, I’m okay.” You smiled in what you hoped to be a reassuring fashion - but Leon stared back, unimpressed. Admittedly you were not even remotely okay, but hearing your level-headed boyfriend panic filled you with anxiety.
“Yeah - no you’re not, sweetheart.”
You laughed flatly. “Yeah, okay.”
---
You had never thought your city had many potholes, before making the drive to the hospital with a broken ankle. Leon did his best to avoid them all - but for each one he hit, you swore loudly - earning a flinch and slightly alarmed apology from him.
Now you sat in the Accident and Emergency waiting room, alone - save for a drunken girl who had called five (or was it six?) friends to cry about something unintelligible. According to the clock hung on the sterile white wall, an hour and twenty minutes had passed since the receptionist told you that someone would be “right with you” (before disappearing to god knows where).
Despite your best efforts, sleep was out of the question - even when you tucked your head under Leon’s chin, successfully blocking out the garish white lights - the angry throbbing from your swollen foot was too hard to ignore. From time-to-time you felt Leon begin to drift off, before jerking awake; you felt terrible for dragging him out, just because you were so clumsy.
Despite his snarky remarks - rarely did you ever have a legitimate disagreement. You had playful spats and often pushed each other's buttons - but Leon always knew where to draw the line.
You knew he put up with a hell of a lot from you. Even the time your cat died and you refused to leave your flat for a month. He patiently came over and sat with you every single day until you felt ready to come out again. Even when you came back from missions and were too afraid to sleep. He’d sit awake with you watching every film under the sun until you fell asleep. Even the times where you did something genuinely stupid - touching an oven tray with your bare hands, locking yourself out for the millionth time - he’d just sigh and tease you for being such a ditz. But every time his voice - through the speaker of your phone would say:
It’s okay, don’t worry about it.
I’m on my way; I’ll see you soon.
Hang tight, sweetheart.
He was everything to you. You glanced up at him, the movement enough to disturb him from his bored trance.
“I’m sure it won’t be long now.” He squeezed you gently, tightening his arm around your waist and you smiled awkwardly.
“Sorry."
He cocked his head at you, giving you a tired smile. “You haven’t got anything to apologise for. Those stairs are far too steep - they’re an accident waiting to happen.”
They really weren’t. And you both knew this. It was just a regular flight of stairs and you hadn’t been looking where you were going.
You looked down at your foot, which had contentedly settled as an angry shade of purple. You were clumsy. A great officer - you kept up with Leon on missions easily, but you had a tendency to misjudge. It drove your boyfriend mad - your undying (perhaps foolish) confidence that I can make that jump or I'll be able to outrun those guys. His exasperated sighs and swearing under his breath often misled others. It always seemed to come as quite a shock that - although you spent a fair amount of time bumping heads, that not only did you work together - but you also loved one another.
After being separated in missions - no matter how much ranted about how you were too reckless or unprofessional or infuriating - he'd always squeeze your hand.
You didn't know what you did to deserve him. You wished you knew.
Pulling you from your thoughts, Leon pressed a kiss to your temple.
"You're thinking too hard." He spoke quietly. "That's never a good thing."
You shifted in your seat, thinking carefully before you spoke.
"Please don't leave me,"
You felt Leon sir back a little and - even though didn't move to look at his face - you felt him almost spluttering; buffering through various expressions as he scrambled for a response.
He started to speak a couple of times, cutting himself off before he could even form the first word. Finally, he let out a breathy laugh.
"What?" He said, craning his neck slightly to get a better look at your face.
You stared at the floor still, afraid to move. God, you sounded pathetic. So attention-seeking; so whiny.
"I-" You paused to suck in a breath, your throat beginning to shut. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Leon."
He laughed again, this time more firmly, shaking his head. "Do I look like I could function without you?"
What is he talking about? You took deep breaths and tried to steady yourself and focus on him.
He had turned to you, propping himself up with his elbow on the back of your seat. Leon wasn't a massively touchy person - not in public at least - but you noticed how suddenly there were mere inches between you. Even now, you could see a glimpse of yourself, a gangly twenty year-old at the Police Academy in Racoon City - as the boy who sat next to you asked for your number.
He raised his eyebrows, pushing a strand of hair out of your face. "I had no idea I seemed so put together."
"I-" Your voice came out as a sort of hollow whisper. "What?"
He smiled, leaning closer as he laughed again. "M'not going to leave you, sweetheart. I thought it was obvious, but you're going to have to try a little harder than a broken ankle to get rid of me."
A weak laugh forced its way out of you - even when you were a teenager, you had been a nervous-laugher. In the back of your mind, you were vaguely grateful that the drunken girl had now passed out across a row of seats - right then, it was only Leon.
"Really?" You said.
"Mhm." He nodded, barely a hint of his usual smugness remaining in his voice. "I mean - as long as you still want me around - I'm going to need you."
He sat back, raising an eyebrow at you. "I wouldn't want anyone else watching my back."
You giggled again, a memory of your time in the academy appearing in your mind.
"Even the time I tripped us both up in front of Officer James?"
He nodded, laughing. "Yeah, even so."
Leaning into his side again, you felt a little silly. Leon never let you feel unloved, it was just your own insecurity that got the better of you from time to time.
For a moment you sat in silence, comfortably nestled against one another.
Leon sighed.
"Do you think they've forgotten us?" You asked, watching the empty reception desk carefully.
"Probably." He said. "Oh well,"
After another mind-numbingly dull forty minutes, a nurse appeared - taking you for x-rays and various tests. By the time you and Leon finally left the hospital, the sky was beginning to lighten.
Leon watched nervously as you struggled with your crutches, limping through the car park. He made sure to never be more than a pace or so away from you, his hands poised so he could leap forwards and catch you whenever you stumbled.
“I’m not going to break, Leon.” You laughed watching his wide-eyed expression as you faltered slightly - but caught yourself easily.
“I know,” He said, swallowing - but still not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m just here-” you slipped again and he grabbed you around the waist, supporting you. He let out a sigh before continuing. “I’m just here in case that happens.”
“Who would have thought it, stoic Agent Kennedy - all worried, just for little old me.” you grinned, raising an eyebrow - earning a huff from Leon.
“Well, clearly, you need my help.”
“Oh do I?” you stumbled again; Leon caught you.
This time it was his turn to raise his eyebrows, his signature cocky smile speaking for itself.
As much as you hated to admit it, that smile never failed to make you weak at the knees. You rolled your eyes, turning away - there was no way you’d ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Shut up.” you huffed.
“I didn’t say anything.” he said, feigning innocence. You could hear his smugness.
“You were about to.” you gently shoved him with your hip - causing him to playfully lift you an inch or so off the ground.
“I’d be careful, if I were you, agent L/N. I might just drop you.”
With a fake gasp you responded. “Oh you wouldn’t dream of it.”
---
A/N: Aaa I love leon so muchhh if anyone has only more re4 or re8 requests pls send them!!!
