#a letter to my teenage self

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Thinking about "So Long, London" as one does and the "I'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free" which is devastating enough on its own as a succinct shorthand of saying "I gave you some of my most formative years thinking we were committed to the same life plans together" (as in building a family life together) but with ~everything~ can also be a statement of her entrusting him with her youthful hopes and dreams and joy and earnestness only for it all to be cast aside and not returned (and at worst, weaponized).

[jadetheblueartist]

First part

That was it. This turtle would not disrespect Big Mama. Frida lunged at him with nothing but rage.

Frida attacked him, tackling him to the ground. He quickly countered with robotic arms that came from his shell and grabbed for Frida. She batted them away while trying to keep this turtle down. He yelled something, but she couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear anything except his words over and over.

“…maybe she just dropped the kid like she dropped Papá.”

———

Sorry @banana-pancake5 I had to continue this here bc the video wasn’t working on the reblogs

Donnie definitely struck a nerve hahaha

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion Cabins 11 and 13

———

Here’s the slower version

[banana-pancake5]

This is now kinda outdated but here ya go :D (I did NOT draw the background that is just a screenshot)

[itzzaira]

“Greetings from Cabin 11, I have come to inform you about how to correctly create a S’more”

Donnie will NOT tolerate any burnt marshmallows

(@tmnt-fandom-faimly-reunion)

We had met all of my babies except for our dear mystic warrior, hadn't we?

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

"Oh, this is perfect!" If Mikey's eyes could sparkle, they would. First, he succeeds at using his powers, finally, then they meet their counterparts, get to this cool camp, and now he can have smores?! Oh, he had been craving all the sweets ever since he had woken up! Seriously. Ice cream, chocolate, sweet gummies. And now s'mores'? And not just S'mores', the perfect S'mores'! He knew all versions of Donnie were brilliant! "Thank you!!"

...His brother did not seem to share his enthusiasm.

For you see- Leo was worried, unable to look away from the youngest's hands. Even clasped together, they shook, the flinched, they hurt. Leo knew they did.

His grab on the IV-bag tightened.

Not to mention, Mikey looked very unstable on his feet- which is why no one had let him even leave the cabin. "...Are you sure it's even a good idea for you to join a campfire in your... condition, Hermanito?"

His smile fell at once, and the youngest glared at him. "I survived opening a portal. I can survive a campfire, Leo."

"I know that, but- you know."

"I don't, actually." His expression turned more sour. "Seriously! None of you let me leave! You have Leonardo watching me all the time! I wanna have fun too!"

"Donnie had a panic attack after meeting a Kraang, Miguel. I don't want you to-"

"She has a name."

"I know, I know- it's just. If that had been you..." his gaze trailed down to Mikey's arms. Said turtle took a shaky step back.

"You disappeared and still are allowed to do what you want! Why can't I?"

"Because you almost died?"

"Well I thought you did!"

"..."

Leo looked at the version of Donnie, who still just... stood there, looking confused. Then he looked at his baby brother, who once again was abusing his baby brother privileges, looking at him with those puppy eyes.

...

Well.

He supposed that maybe the oldest three had been a bit.. paranoid. Shell, even his counterpart was rooming around- so why couldn't Mikey? He sighed, and gave a defeated smile. "...As long as you promise to take it easy-"

"I knew you were my favorite!" Mikey squealed, running over to hug the slider, tripping over his own feet and almost falling flat-faced on the ground- but luckily, Leo reacted fast, catching him just in time. The box turtle didn't seem to care, gave a quick kiss on his cheek along with a hug, tail wagging as he quickly turned to the other Donnie to grab a paper. Said soft shell seemed relieved- maybe because Leo agreed. Maybe just because of the knowledge that there wouldn’t be any burned smores from cabin 10.

"Thank you- ouch ouch ouch."

Mikey pulled his hand back as soon as he touched the paper, wincing and squeezing his wrists. He was still smiling though, so it must be fine. So, the slider thanked his twin's counterpart, took two papers in case they lost the other one, got Mikey's sticker sheet because his little brother wanted to give a sticker to the Donnie as a thank you, and finally sat him down once Donnie left. "I'm making your s'mores'." He let him know, looking around. Were they supposed to invite their cabinmates too? Those baby versions of them maybe? Or the other group of their counterparts-

Mikey made a face.

"Nuh-uh. Raph can make them, I don't trust yourself to not burn them."

"I have instructions now! Written down! From a Donnie. It will be fine! I'm not that bad in the kitchen."

"Not so bad in the- did you forget about the time you managed to set WATER on FIRE?"

"...This isn't a kitchen, it's a campfire! That doesn't count!"

[driftwoodsix]

olivia rodrigo // teenage dream — laufey // letter to my 13 year old self

[mmoodd-jobutupaki]

Vampire,

Teenage Dream (by Olivia Rodrigo)

and

Letter to my 13 year old self by Laufey

Are doing something to my heart and I'm not liking it

[riversrawblog]

An Open Letter To My Ex (Part 4)

We met at work; you were a Popeyes fry cook, which would become a theme of mine. You were a very tall string bean guy—weird and slow, to be honest. But you were such a good listener. A few days before number 3 went to jail, I opened up to you about his heroin addiction. It made me feel close to you, as you were one of the few I was completely open with about the situation. So he goes to jail, and I go to you for comfort. One thing leads to another, and eventually I end up in your bed. I didn't plan on dating you. But I think I clung to you because it was convenient, and I was broken. Unfortunately, you had also been involved with my supervisor at the time. I knew this. But I was in my "IDGAF" phase. I blame the Klonopin I was snorting in the bathroom. (I know that isn't an excuse; looking back on it, this was fucked up, and I am very remorseful.) One day I decided to waltz into work, look my supervisor in the eyes and tell her I was sleeping with you. Why? I don't know; It seemed like a good idea. The right thing to do Well, that night, you, your dad, and she were waiting for me in the parking lot. That bitch jumped me. Crazy shit. She ended up firing me, and I ended up with you. It was a decent couple of months, and I needed the comfort. But you were still in love with her and definitely using me for sex. I don't even remember why we broke up. But I remember when I was planning on it, I was really concerned about how to get my pillow back. You stalked me in real life and on the internet. You would make fake Facebook accounts. It was scary. Eventually, you just faded into the roar of the fall.

-River

[probablyscreamingintothevoid]

To my friends that don't understand why I love Eddie Munson (or whoever is reading this....)

That's valid. You didn't really know me when I was a little emo kid. You didn't know how fucking proud I was that the other kids in my class never understood why I was the way I was. But I was an edgy, wanna be emo kid dude. I did weird shit for the attention because, if I am being honest with you, I didn't know how else to get it. I've mostly outgrown that now.

You've gotten close to the version of me who forces herself to communicate even though it's a challenge and it isn't always perfect. The person that types this today is not the same one that identifies with Eddie, not really. I've grown and changed and healed and broken apart just to have to do it all over again. This me? I understand why you are confused. She is pastels and glitter, aesthetic wallpapers and pretty anime boys hung up in her bed room. She is crop tops and perfectly painted nails, the color pink, a bubble tea popsocket, and soft indie acoustic music playing in the background as she writes. She is living authentically for herself and for others, in hopes that no one she meets will ever feel as alone as she once did. She should not identify with Eddie. But she does.

I remember once in middle school someone dared me to dress in the gothic fashion, make up and all and I did it. And this other 8th grade was like, "You know that doesn't make you pretty right? No one will like you if you dress like that" and I was thrilled, dude. Beyond thrilled. 

And that's where I identify with Eddie. I was happy being the "freak". I didn't want to fit in. Fitting in and later being rejected? That was scarier than never fitting in at all. I never gave people the opportunity to get to know me because I had been hurt before - I had no interest in doing it again. I kept my walls up, hiding in dark clothes and angry music, straightened hair and chains on my pants. I didn't want to be approachable because I did not want to be approached.

You can still see that part of me now, it's just less edgy and more, me??? It's softened, like I have, with time. But that was such a big part of me for literally so long. My two aesthetics battle with each other to this day. They always will. I have learned to simply give them both time to shine.

And I don't know. I think seeing Eddie reminded me that the broken, angry, nonconforming version of myself will always be here. And I'll always love her. I've accepted her, given her the love that she always needed and didn't get from anyone else. Helped her to understand that should could like pink and ripped jeans, dark make up and soft music. She could be two multiple things at once, while still being herself. It was okay if she liked things everyone else did, and it was okay to like things that no one else did too.

That's how I identify with Eddie. I saw that freak and my little, once lost heart was so happy. I wanted to be Eddie, a part of me still does, and I think it always will.

I hope that makes sense. And I don't mean to imply that Eddie is broken, or people who identify with him are damaged in anyway. That isn't my intention. I am speaking of my own experience, the things that I loved once and the things that I love now and how I can look back at them and see my own journey of self love and self discovery so clearly. But that's not me saying that I think someone like Eddie should change. Not at all, in fact. I love him. I love the part of me that identifies with him.

I have connected with other characters and I hate it because they highlight the parts of me that I am still learning to love and accept, the parts of me that I am trying to not think of as weak but still feel as though they are. But I love my connection to Eddie. The girl who loves him is strong, and I hope he continues to connect with a whole group of people who have desperately waited for a character like him.

If you made it this far and you don't understand me any better than when you started that's okay. We can't always fully understand each other, but we can love and accept one another, and that's all I ask. Please don't hate someone for loving Eddie as much as I do - for loving anyone to that capacity, you never know what part of that person the character is able to reach, and maybe it's a part that has feel alone for a really, really long time.

Be kind.

[sweeterrthanhoney]

si realmente me conocieras, sabrías que soy el último bocado que dejo en cada comida, todas las estampas que guardé porque nunca supe dónde pegar, la pestaña que me arranco porque se sale de la línea, el abrazo que necesito para dejar de llorar, las canciones que escucho cuando estoy triste, los peluches que abrazo al dormir, el diario que escribía a los 11, la caja de recuerdos que guardo bajo de la cama, la ropa que nunca uso pero tampoco puedo tirar, los zapatos que compro aunque no sean mi talla, el tiempo que tardo en decidir una cosa, el primer cigarro que le robé a mi papá, el lugar que siempre escojo para sentarme a la mesa, las fotos escolares en las que nunca salí, los plásticos que me gusta quitarle a las cosas nuevas, el baño donde comía en la primaria, la primera droga que probé y lo que me llevo a probar todas las demás, la marca que me quedó de varicela, la historia de todas mis cicatrices y el lunar que tengo en mi cadera, que es probablemente, lo único que conoces de mi

[dcxdpdabbles]

you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought

so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨

Danny: oh I always forget about that

someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes

Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes

wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order

word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs

(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)

"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.

Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."

"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"

Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."

"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.

He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."

"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.

Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"

The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.

"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.

She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"

Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."

"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"

He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.

He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.

Strange.

Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.

He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.

So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.

Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.

A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.

His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.

Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.

He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.

Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."

They were the myths.

Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.

The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.

It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.

After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.

With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.

Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.

That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.

In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.

The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"

What a strange place Gotham is.

[jadetheblueartist]

This is a slower version of this so you can actually see some of the details hahaha

@banana-pancake5

[greg-montgomery]

Aaron going through boxes of old stuff and finding a journal of yours from a long time ago. He opens it out of curiosity and reads about how your younger self always wanted to be called princess from a significant other so he tries it out along with buying a nice bouquet of flowers 🤭

Aaron’s cheeks were almost hurting by smiling all day, because he was surrounded by boxes of your belongings that would soon be all over his house. Your house.

One certain box with the word “memories” in capital letters written on it though, drew his attention. Opening it, he was met with a few books, magazines, cards, and concert tickets.

At the bottom of the box, there was a pink journal with your name decorating its cover.

It looked personal, but it also looked like it was from a long time ago. He couldn’t help it, and with his curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it.

The pages were filled with pink glittery letters, little drawings, and stickers of Disney princesses and Barbie characters.

He smiled with affection while turning the pages and seeing what your younger self used to fill her journal with. He almost skipped a page when his eyes fell on the title written on top of it.

“My dream boy!”

Oh, this is gonna be interesting, he thought.

Aaron found himself competing with the ideal version of a boyfriend your teenage self had. He went through every single point you had written down, and mentally checked it.

That version of you, was still part of who you were today, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint you or not be enough.

Tall – check.

Dark hair – check.

Sweet – check, well to you at least.

Brings me flowers – check.

Calls me princess – not check.

Princess, huh? That was new.

He knew that you were big on pet names, but princess had never occurred to him before.

A smirk grew on his face. It was time to see if your tastes had changed.

--

Just the day after, Aaron made sure to visit a flower shop after work and buy your favorite flowers. If he was gonna try something, he was going to do it right.

He found you sitting on the couch, eating a bag of chips and scrolling on your phone, some show on the TV playing in the background. You left it open for company when he wasn’t there and something inside him stung a little.

“Baby?”

You threw your head back on the couch and looked up at him as he moved closer. “You’re home,” you sighed with a smile. “Missed you.”

“I did too.” He leaned down to kiss you on the lips and brought the flowers he was hiding behind his back in front of you. “That’s why I decided to get some flowers to my princess.”

Your face lightened up at the sight of the beautiful bouquet and the sound of the pet name. “Aaron!”

You stood up on the couch and threw yourself at him, hugging him with a force that could bring down a bear. “Thank you!”

“You like them, honey?”

“I love them.”

Aaron sighed at the feeling of your lips on his neck, as you left little kisses on the curve of it. “Anything for my princess.”

Your face was still hidden in the crook of his neck but Aaron could feel you laughing.

“What are the giggles for?”

“Nothing…”

He pulled back just enough so he could look at your face, and grabbed your chin softly. You averted your eyes from him as if you had something to hide.

“Y/N?”

“It’s nothing!” you insisted. “I just like to be called that,” you added quietly, playing with a button from Aaron’s shirt. You still wouldn’t look at him.

“To be called what?” he asked.

“Princess…”

“I know.” He smirked.

“What do you mean?”

“I read it in your diary.”

“What?” you raised your voice and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“I found it through your old stuff.”

“Aaron, I’m gonna kill you!”

“I’m sorry!”

“No, you’re not. You’re laughing.”

“Oh come on, it got you what you wanted.”

“Shut up,” you said , furrowing your brows.

The two of you sat on the couch and he tried to pull you into his arms. After showing resistance for a few seconds, you let him hold you.

“What else did you read?”

“I saw the whole list. About your dream guy.”

“I don’t remember adding ‘he reads my journal without permission’,” you said.

“I do have all the rest though,” he said with a cocky smile.

“You do, I guess,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “I was manifesting.”

“I hope you’re happy with the guy the universe sent you then, princess.”

“Ah…” you threw your head back with a lovesick smile. “And it's only getting better.”

[banana-pancake5]

Lil sketchy drawing I did for Letter From my Future Self! (This is post movie)

Ignoring the fact that winner of the poll was regular Donnie….

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James "helps" you organize your old belongings to move them to the cellar.

Prompt: friends to lovers ~ "don't bite your lip, bite mine."

@moonlightspencie for you, my lovely!

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

James promised to help you organize and move all your childhood belongings into your cellar. Only, you should have known he wouldn't be much help at all.

You're sitting in the middle of your bedroom, the carpet covered in various nick-knacks and memories as James lays on his stomach on your bed and flips through some old muggle teenage magazine. 

"Who's John Lennon and why is this muggle magazine obsessed with him?"

You blow some hair away from your eyes. "A singer. He was in a band." You throw a pair of old sneakers in the discard pile and groan. "Jamie, you're being no help!"

James throws the magazine onto your bed and scrunches his nose as he rests his chin on his hands. "He's not even cute, y'know, muggle birds have shit taste."

"Never said John Lennon was cute, James," you say, glaring at him, "Now, can you come help look through that box for me?" you point to the box near your hip that's labeled postcards/letters.

James jumps down from the bed and sits crisscross next to you, his legs bouncing uncontrollably. He's unable to keep still for even a minute sometimes. You know this and so you just let him do his thing.

"Why do you keep all these?" he asks absentmindedly as he rummages inside the box, making sure everything inside corresponds to the label, occasionally discarding trash, trinkets, and even a pair of thankfully clean socks.

"Because they're to and from people I care about," you whisper, folding an old sweaters to donate. "They're memories."

James hums, clearly reading something and you turn your head, seeing him fully reading one of your letters. You snatch it from him and glare at him again. "You're being a pain," you say, your tone lacking in malice. 

"You never sent that one," he points to the letter and looks down at it, your breath leaving you when you see the name written on the front of the folded paper you hadn't even put in an envelope. 

James F. Potter.

 The letter is addressed to him.

A sense of dread creeps in on you and you have an awful feeling in your stomach that means you remember exactly which letter it is. You throw it in the box again, shrugging as your voice trembles, "Must not have been important."

James's gaze stays on you and he tilts his head in question. "Is it still true? You're in love with me."

Your chest tightens and you freeze, letting his words sink in. He'd read it. "How fast can you read?" you joke nervously, avoiding looking at him. This wasn't supposed to happen. 

James laughs. He laughs and you feel like sobbing so you do the next best thing which is hold in your tears as you sink your teeth into your lip, hard enough to hurt and distract you. 

"Woah," James's voice interrupts your self-loathing as he sits up on his knees and holds your chin. He uses his thumb to pull your lip from your teeth. "Hey, darling, don't do that," he whispers sternly and uses his other hand to push some hair away from your forehead and then he tucks some of the strands behind your ear.

"Can you look at me?"

You feel so embarrassed that he'd read your confession. A confession you'd written almost a year ago and that you'd never sent in fear of ruining the best friendship you've ever had.

You squeeze your eyes shut. "Hey," James mumbles and his hand rests against your cheek, his thumb still close to your lips. "Did you mean it? Do you still mean it?"

What point is there lying now?

You nod and your eyes open as you try and chew on your lip, a nervous habit you've always had and James stops you again with his thumb on your lip again and he frowns. 

"Don't you bite your lip, if anything bite mine," he says as if it's the most normal thing in the world. He looks completely serious too and your heart leaps.

James's signature smirk curls his lips and he grips your chin, pulling you in. "Like this," he says, his breath warm on your lips, and then he's kissing you.  

It's hesitant and unfamiliar for few seconds until you relax and your arms find his neck, pulling yourself in even closer as you deepen the kiss.

You feel like you're in a cloud and all you can feel is James's arms wrapping themselves around your waist. You smile into his mouth and tilt your head, your teeth sinking into his lip like he'd wanted.

From the passion, your bodies accidentally slip and as you fall over James, his elbow accidentally hits the box and sends all the contents spilling on the floor. 

"Oops," he pipes up, his voice breathless as he looks up at you, your hands beside his head as you look down at him. His hands remain on your hips and his lip is a little crimson and swollen from your bite.

His grin only widens.

"See, much better than when you bite yours," he chuckles.

You echo his laughter and then lean down, pressing another kiss to his lips.   

[navstuffs]

DO IT FOR HIM

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: Leon catches a particular item on your stuff.

Warnings: cute, two idiots in love, FLUFFY FLUFF, comedy, domestic!leon

Author's Notes: inspiration for this came from The Simpsons obvs and this amazing artwork from @emahriel. thank you so much giving me the honor to use it for my little fic! you should all check her blog, she has amazing artwork! i hope this fills your day with joy as much as i had fun writing it!

my leon's masterlist

"What is that?"

You and Leon have been cleaning your bedroom. The idea came from you: to let the energy flow around the house by donating and throwing away old items. Well, you were, at least. Leon is lying in bed, still wearing pajama pants and a shirt, although it is 4 pm. He deserves his rest, he says, and you agree. Because only Leon looks gorgeous in simple grey pants and a white shirt with a hole in the armpits. No complaints on your side.

"What is that?" Leon asks as you sit on the floor, surrounded by old stuff "That. Right there," Leon points, and your eyes follow. It is just your old collection of mangas.

"This?"

"No, behind it. That small little glass frame. What is on it?"

Small little glass…oh, crap. You immediately realize what it is, your stomach twisting. You thought you threw away that long ago before you and Leon moved together. It was a cute piece you made for yourself when you met him, feeling like a teenager in love again. It was never in your plans for Leon to see it.

"No-nothing. It's probably an old art project of mine," You try to place the frame with its face down, thinking of a way to get rid of it, before Leon, faster than you, is at your side, pulling from your hands. "Wait, Leon!"

When Leon turns the frame around, he paralyzes. It is his face. There are numerous pictures of him smiling, looking seriously at the camera, and even admiring the background scenery. There were a few of his younger self as well. And behind it, written in your handwriting in big black bold letters, DO IT FOR HIM. Leon looks at you, a smile appearing on his face, and he feels his cheek heat up.

You don't see that, your face hidden behind your hands. It was just a silly thing you did to help you during work. You placed it on your table to remind yourself to stay strong, even when things got hard.

You peek between your fingers to see Leon isn't in there anymore. Well, there you cringed the man of your life, and he probably regretted marrying you. Or, knowing Leon, he left to give a good laugh without embarrassing you.

Leon comes back, his wallet in his hands. You wait until he sits by your side and hands you the wallet.

"Open it."

You do as you are told, feeling Leon's gentle stare. You hadn't seen anything special in his wallet before besides cards and ID. You look up, and he motions for you to open his wallet. You do it, finding a small folded piece of paper.

"What is this?" You ask, cautious.

"Unfold it."

You wrinkle your forehead, opening the paper and looking at him surprised. It is one of the first pictures you took together after Raccoon City, and you just started dating. Although it was supposed to be a selfie together, Leon accidentally cut himself almost entirely out of the picture, focusing on you and your big happy smile. The paper seemed to have been folded and unfolded plenty of times. When you look at Leon, his face visibly red now, he confesses, his voice low.

"Helped a lot in dark times, believe me."

"Why this one specifically?"

"It was the first time you told me you loved me. I like to remember that."

Without being able to control yourself anymore, sniffling, you throw yourself in Leon's arms, hiding your face on his neck.

"Are you crying?" Leon wonders with a smile. When you don't answer, he rubs your back, whispering in your ear, "I still love you as much as that day."

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 3

Summary: “Harry runs into Y/N in the last place he expected her to be on a random Wednesday evening…”

Wc: 3.1k

Tropes: boxer!harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: none, really

A/N: hi lovely people, hereby I give you part 3 of NFWMB! Be mindful that this is a longer series so the build-up will, therefore, also take longer. It’s a bit of a short part but I promise the next one will make up for it! I also want to thank my bestie for constantly brainstorming this plot with me you know who you are ILYYY🥰🥰🤭🙏❤️ ENJOYYY

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Harry had been restless ever since he said goodbye to Y/N and stepped into his car yesterday. It was like his whole body was screaming at him to turn around and kiss her. He had never felt such a need to do it before. Never experienced his body pulling him to hers like magnets, as if he couldn't breathe properly again until he kissed her.

It was scary, to say the least.

He'd had crushes before, or just people he'd found attractive and sometimes popped up in his fantasies, but this was different. It was almost laughable. How did he even know it was different, Harry ridiculed himself. He'd seen the girl— what? Two, three times now?

And then, like clockwork, that lovingly ache in his stomach would multiply in response, and Harry just knew. It was risky, he was aware of that as well, but he just wanted her close, one way or another. Even if he'd have to wait until the day she didn't want self-defense classes anymore to ask her on a date, he would, although it felt almost physically impossible to think of being that close to her and never being able to kiss her.

If he could just kiss her...

Harry frowned, staring blankly towards the heap of paperwork on his desk. He had been busy with this for the last two hours, and his daydreaming about Y/N was the only reason it was not yet finished. He tried to read again, but the letters on the paper just wouldn't form into words. Sighing, Harry looked up from his desk, looking out into the training room, which was on the empty side. It was lunchtime now, so it would fill up again in an hour or two.

The sight of Y/N walking through the room had Harry leaping from his chair. He blinked a couple times, making sure he wasn't dreaming or anything. Nope, he was not dreaming at all, Y/N was in the gym.

Not only that, she was also wearing tight sports leggings. It was paired with a wide oversized sweatshirt that covered most of her ass, but Harry let out a breath anyway as he shamelessly observed her long legs. This was not helping his case at all.

He stayed surprisingly still as he watched Y/N walk over to the treadmill, looking around the room before she steps on it. Harry tilted his head when he noticed her furiously pushing some buttons, and she began running faster and faster.

Where did she learn to run so fast? Why is she running so fast? She must be relieving some frustrations. He’d had days where his adrenaline overflowed as well.

He wanted to go up to her and talk to her, but he stopped himself before he could reach the door. He needed to finish this paperwork before he could do that. It would be great motivation to hurry the fuck up.

So, he did. He finished the paperwork in twenty minutes. It was embarrassing how little time it actually took now that he wasn't daydreaming about Y/N the entire time. It was even more embarrassing to realize that the only reason his daydreams were subsiding was because she was out there, a couple feet away.

Pathetic!

He kept shouting it at himself, yet he still couldn’t seem to care that he was acting like a lovesick teenager. With a smile, he got up from his desk and walked into the training room, going straight for the treadmills.

His face faltered, however, at the sight of empty treadmills. Harry walked over to the one he last saw Y/N on, and his brows raised at the digits he read.

She ran 7 kilometers in thirty minutes? That was incredibly fast. He would have a lot of difficulty with keeping up, he wasn't even sure if he could keep up if he tried. Why didn't she ever mention she was a running miracle?

The sound of a familiar laugh made Harry's ears perk up, and his stomach fluttered as he turned around to look for Y/N. Whatever was fluttering in his stomach died on the spot, however, when he finally caught sight of Y/N... with another man.

She was standing with Alan, one of the personal trainers he hired. Harry had always been careful with his application process, and although he knew Alan was a good guy, he the urge to drop kick him to the ground was too strong to ignore.

How could he possibly have made her laugh like that? How funny did he have to be to make that sound fall from her lips? Harry scoffed to himself, shaking his head as he approached the two.

"Hey!" He conjured a smile for Y/N, which was easy to do, especially since her face lightened up at the sight of him. It told him she felt comfortable in his presence. The assurance that ran through his veins felt like being cuddled up in a warm blanket on a snowy winters' day.

"Harry, hi!" She greeted him, seeming to forget about Alan existence entirely until he greeted Harry. She finally blinked, taking her back to reality.

"Hey man." Alan greeted him casually. Harry just nodded in a response, a small 'hey' falling from his lips before turning his attention Y/N again.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, eyes twinkling with enthusiasm which he hoped would translate into his words as well. Y/N looked away for a second, cheeks turning red as she fiddled with her hands.

"Just— blowing off some steam."

That was definitely a lie, Harry could tell. Not only because she was a terrible liar, but also because she had a habit of looking away and fiddling with stuff whenever she was scared to tell the truth— wait, her hand...

A small stabbing ache filled Harry's chest as he noticed the wrapped bandage around Y/N's palm. He turned to Alan.

"Don't you have a two o'clock?"

It was a bit harsher than Harry usually was towards his employees. He was a stern boss, but still the kind to have a nice chat with. This was a bit out of character for him, but he couldn’t care less about that now. He needed to know what happened, and Y/N would never be comfortable with telling the truth if Alan was still there.

It didn't take more than two seconds for Alan to realize what the true situation here was, raising his brows as he immediately took a step back— literally and figuratively.

"Right. See you around, Y/N." He winked at her as he walked off. Harry clenched his jaw—the pile of profanities in his mind reserved for Alan slowly growing—and eyed the girl next to him, who gave his employee a small wave as he finally disappeared.

"So," Harry looked down at Y/N's hand. "Tell me, what's really going on?"

Y/N shrugged. "Nothing. Busy day at work, so I came here to blow off some steam."

Bullshit. He didn't buy into that being the whole story. She was definitely not telling him everything, but then again, they didn't know each other very well so it was completely valid for her not to bombard him with all her secrets. He wished he could just tell her that she could trust him.

"You ran really fast." He decided to go a different route. When she didn't necessarily respond to that, he added, "like, impressively fast."

"I just had a lot of extra energy to sweat out." Another excuse rolled off her tongue, and Harry decided to stop trying to coax a real answer out of her. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but he couldn't resist asking one last question, though.

"What happened to your hand?"

Y/N frowned, looking down at her hand, as if only just now remembering that it was visible to other people as well. The pained look on her face stirred a feeling of worry in Harry. He hated that he couldn't read her thoughts and make sure she was really okay.

"Just my regular clumsiness." She said, sounding strained.

"Y/N, you know you can talk to me—"

"Hey! Are you going to Sophie's party?" She suddenly chimed in, cutting Harry off. He was so thrown off by the question that he couldn't think of anything clever enough to intercept her interruption.

"Uh, yes." He answered blankly.

"Oh thank God. I was hoping you'd say that, I was afraid I wasn't going to know anyone there." She smiled at him, and every other thought that Harry had had in the last hour suddenly flew out of the window. The corners of his mouth pulled up.

"Isn't Sophie inviting other colleagues as well?" He asked, still grinning from that smile she just gave him.

"Yes... but Sophie runs with the cool crowd."

Harry chuckled. "You make it sound like it's high school."

"That's because it is." She shrugged. "Sophie is with the popular kids, like a cheerleader."

"And what does that make you?" Harry tilted his head. Y/N tilted her head, thinking it over for a few seconds, before she answered:

"The audiovisual geek."

A snort escaped Harry's throat. He hadn't expected that answer at all, nor did he believe it to be true. An angel like Y/N being at the bottom of this food chain she was explaining? She was clearly undermining herself, once again.

"What? It's true!" She exclaimed, giggling softly as she watched Harry shake his head.

"Well, I'll be there, so at least you'll have one friendly face around."

"Good. But I'm warning you, I'm probably going to be clung to your side the entire night, so be prepared to get sick of me." She teased.

She teased. Was she flirting with him? By the way her lit up, doe eyes were looking at her, it kind of seemed like she was. She was especially bold today. Last week she had to chug half a water bottle after Harry touched her. He fought back the smirk that threatened to break out on his face as he answered, deciding to play into her cheekiness.

"That won't be a problem, love."

Y/N's smile faltered ever so slightly, her cheeks turning a rosy red much like they always did whenever Harry would say something like this. She swallowed, quickly eyeing at the ground before meeting Harry's gaze again, as if reminding herself to get herself together.

"Uhm, anyway, I just— I had a question... about the self defense classes."

Harry had to keep himself from laughing at how quickly she had gotten flustered, and quirked up a brow to indicate she go on.

"I want to build some muscle. You know, gain some extra strength, like you said last week." She clarified. Harry hummed, crossing his arms. "Well, Alan was telling me that he's a personal trainer, and he has these plans for beginners. Do you think it would be a good idea if I did that?"

Abso-fucking-lutely NOT.

"No." He said, his selfishness getting ahead of him.

"Oh."

The sound was small, but Harry could hear the severe disappointment. Oh god, was an absolute monster. The poor angel was telling him about wanting to put in extra effort and here he was, rejecting her idea with harshness that wasn't even reserved for her. It was reserved for Alan, and his nose, which he was going to break soon.

"I think it'd be better if I make you a custom plan, one that'll match with the self defense classes." He elaborated. To be honest, that wasn't exactly the reason why he'd said no in the first place, but he simply did not want her to be around Alan if she could be around him.

"Oh, okay." Y/N responded, her eyes lit up at the sound of his promise. "If it's not too much trouble."

Harry scoffed. "Not at all, angel."

There it went, the nickname rolled off his tongue again. He couldn't help it, it was just so easy. Despite Harry's display of coolness, he eyed Y/N to see what her reaction was to the nickname. The last time, she'd ran away, literally. She basically sprinted to her apartment. Now, her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth as she fought a smile.

He could've sworn he was going into cardiac arrest. This was the best possible reaction to him calling her angel. It was also the worst, because now all Harry could focus on were those damn plump lips.

"I should probably get a gym membership then, huh?" She tried to fill the silence that fell when Harry stopped trying to keep the conversation going and decided to just admire her face instead.

"We can take care of that next week." He said, his eyes trailing down to her lips and back up. Y/N looked like a deer in headlights, her mouth opening ever so slightly to say something, but a loud voice interrupted the both of them.

"Y/N?!"

Both their heads whipped around to see Sophie standing in the door opening. Other people were looking at the crazy woman in the doorway as well, but Sophie didn't care as she marched towards Y/N and Harry.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just blowing off some steam." She smiled, using the same excuse she'd told Harry. "Wanted to go for a run outside but it's pouring rain, so I thought this would be a better option."

Sophie nodded, not entirely convinced as her eyes darted between Y/N and Harry. The sole look on her face told Harry that he wasn't going to be let off the hook so easily as soon as Sophie got him alone, which would be soon, because Y/N was quick to say

"I'm gonna go... I've got some paperwork to finish at home." She stammered, taking a few steps towards the door.

"Of course, good luck sweetie. See you tomorrow?" Sophie's voice was soft like honey as she addressed her angel of a friend. Y/N nodded and gave her a hug before peeping a small 'bye' to Harry and rushing out the door.

Harry couldn't stop staring at her, not as she walked out the door, nor as she walked to her car. He felt like he'd waste her beauty if he didn't just look at her all the time. Like, if he didn't appreciate it enough now, if he didn't memorize all the details on her face, he would regret if she suddenly left his life.

"You are going to tell me what the fuck is going on right now." Sophie's voice cut through the thoughts that clouded his common sense. When he turned his head to her, her face was stern. A born lawyer.

"Nothing." Harry frowned at her, a bit frustrated with the fact that he was speaking the truth himself. He wished he had more to lie about other than his boyish crush on Y/N. Unfortunately, 'more' seemed to be quite out of reach.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Harry. Just tell me." Sophie put her hands on her hips, waiting for her to spill her guts. Instead, Harry shrugged. He had nothing to confess, because he and Y/N were just friends. Not even, they weren't even friends. Just trainer and trainee. For some reason, that realization stung a whole lot.

"I told you, nothing is going on." He growled. Sophie raised her brows; she'd clearly hit a nerve and the expression on her face read 'bingo!'. But she didn't push him, something Harry was expecting her to do.

"Listen, Harry. You're one of my dearest friends, and I'll always support your decisions, but I'm telling you right now... be careful." She warned him slowly, the serious tone of voice making Harry's ears perk up more at what she said.

"Y/N is a great girl, sweetest person I've ever met. But she's young, Harry, and she's only lived a very secluded life so far." She explained, and Harry clenched his jaw, heart straining at the confrontational tone. "If you're serious about her, great! I love her, she's amazing and I think you'd be very good for each other. But if you view this is a 'one and done' kind of situation, then I strongly suggest you pick someone else because she really likes you, I can see it."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "You think she likes me?"

The next sound that left him was a yelp, flinching at Sophie's hand punching against his upper arm.

"Was that seriously the only thing you got from my speech?" She squinted her eyes at her friend. He only had that cheeky grin on his face.

"It was the part that stood out most." He wiggled his eyebrows, earning another slap against his arm. Harry hissed, moving away from Sophie. "God you hit hard, do you take self defense classes or something?"

"You have five seconds to disappear or I'll go full Kung Fu on your ass, Harry." Sophie grunted, pouting an accusatory finger at him.

"Actually, what I teach is not called Kung Fu—" She corrected her, having too much fun with this situation. He wasn't able to stop himself from teasing his friend, mainly because he didn't want to. Harry was in a bit of a cheeky mood now that Sophie had told him Y/N liked him.

"Two more seconds Harry." She growled, rolling up her sleeves.

"And speaking of self defense, your punch was kind of weak. Have you been lifting those weights we talked about—"

"Time's up!" Sophie exclaimed, and before she'd finished her sentence, Harry was running back to his office. He was in his office just in time to lock the door and laugh at the middle fingers Sophie was holding up for him. After a few minutes, she gave up and began to exercise, leaving Harry alone with his running mind.

"...because she really likes you, I can see it." 

He was aware that he was grinning like an idiot as he replayed that sentence over and over in his head while creating a membership card for Y/N on his computer and sending the bill to his own bank account, but he didn't give a fuck. He didn't care if the whole word could see him giddy over this angel of his, in fact, he would only love to show her off.

She liked him. He couldn't believe it.

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah