#idleon

made by moi

~ A Resident Evil story

Hey guys so turns out I am indeed a very sickly being 🌅 so here I am again, with some emo Leon fluff. What else do you expect from me at this point. Had to rewrite like more than half of this because tumblr refreshed and took 20 minutes of my hard work with it 💔 just wanted to voice my frustrations with you because you know I love you and you know how bad I want this middle aged man it’s not even a joke anymore.

This is for someone out there like who’s like me. Whose body doesn’t like them.

Getting a diagnosis is the worst, even if it makes you feel better to know what’s going on. So sometimes, you wanna take chances because what else do you have to lose. Your reputation? Ha.

This is maybe going to be a long one idk yet, but buckle up. Btw, this isn’t part of the chapters I’ve written before, this is new 👍

Setting: Just after the events of Resident Evil: Death Island.

Female reader in her mid twenties Leon is in his late thirties. So yes: Age Gap.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙⋆ ⋆⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⋆ ❆ ⋆∘∙⊱⋅•⋅꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

For the first time in months, you actually felt like smiling and it was definitely because of him.

You and this hunk of a man had been friends for almost 4 or 5 years now.

You had always thought he was pretty attractive, extremely attractive but you never did make a move and he never made one either. You were pretty sure he saw you as nothing more than a younger lady who liked to be his friend and laugh at his bad jokes, that was IT.

And for the longest time you were so fine with that.

You were so fine with admiring from a distance as your casual flirting flew right over his head.

Then sometime last year, you started feeling really icky all the time. The worst of it would come and go but you eventually never really felt like you were getting better.

Your life got really stressful, as life tends to. But this time, your body couldn’t handle it.

Nothing was as easy anymore and everything always hurt.

You never understood why.

Why why why-

Why was every doctor not able to tell you what was wrong? What’s with all the vague “educated” guesses? The unsure diagnoses??

Then one day, you found someone who could tell you what was wrong.

That it was something you weren’t really able to get tested for so it flew under the radar in most cases. The kind doctor also informed you that there was no way to fix it.

Your family knew, your closest friend knew and that was pretty much it.

December rolls around and the cold makes your whole body ache, worse, so much worse than before.

You hadn’t really said anything to anyone but you had felt approximately about 2 times this year that you were not going to make it. That the ants marching along your windowsill were the last things you were going to experience. That you were going to die, rotting in your bed.

Alas, time dragged on.

You lived.

For how much longer?

You didn’t know.

And at this point you didn’t care.

You stopped watching clocks so intently everyday, you started doing things to regain some whimsy in your life while you still could. Laugh at whatever stupid thing you found funny, cry at whatever inconvenienced you weather you were in public or in private, without a care for what other people would think.

Because you never knew how long it would be till you were called to join the bone orchard.

The cold night air nipped at your nose, your cheeks hurt from all the laughing and smiling you’d done tonight and you had a hobble in your step. You blamed it on the booze but you knew it wasn’t the alcohol that was making you walk funny.

“-n then I- I don’t even know-“ he laughed, his sweet voice hanging in the air.

The more this wretched year went on the more you started appreciating him.

Stupid & Oblivious Scotty.

He had come back from another “hike” with Chris the other day covered in cuts and bruises. He said that he fell but you never did believe his “hiking trip” or “business trip” stories. You knew they were a cover up for something, but at this point you didn’t have the energy to dig.

You felt your lungs stinging and your knees aching with every step you took, your stamina was definitely not what it used to be.

“Ugh I can’t walk anymore- I need a break-“ you stretched your arms out.

“A break?” He scoffs “We’ve barely just left the bar! Don’t tell me you’re tired after walking like what-“ he checks his watch “5 minutes? We didn’t even drink much, you literally only had 1 double-“ he brings his eyes back over to you, amusement written all over his face.

“Shh you geezer.” You wave him off and trek ahead, your feeling feet heavy.

“Geezer?? I’m thirty eight!” You could practically hear the smile on his lips.

He catches up to you and lightly nudges your shoulder to tease you. Something he often does. It’s when you actually stumble that he recoils.

Have you always been that weak?

“Sorry bout that..”

“No it’s okay, must be more of a lightweight than I thought” you try to laugh it off and change the subject as quickly as possible, your eyes scanning the area.

“AH!” You point “a bench, my sweet saviour..”

You head a ways in front of him, jogging up to a small snow covered bench near a small park. You comically swipe the snow aside and sit down before dramatically slapping the spot next to you for him to take a seat.

He catches up after a second and taps your knee and a groan leaves him as he flops back, forcing a chuckle out of you.

“Old man.”

“Oh please.”

The moment grows silent as you sit there for a bit, a smile on each of your faces. Small, dainty little snowflakes drifting down from the sky, reflecting the light of the street lamps.

You appreciate the simplistic beauty of the scenery, but something was stirring in you. Something that made your chest tight with melancholy.

“You wanna go skinny dipping?” You blurted out.

…

“Huh?”

“You wanna go… skinny dipping?”

…

“Skinny dipping????”

“Yeah.”

“You?”

“Yeah?”

“And me?”

“… y… yes?”

“In the middle of winter…”

“… we could find a heated pool?”

…

“No.”

You leaned toward him and shoved him with your shoulder

“Cmooonnnnn.”

“No- who are you??? Skinny dipping???” He scoffs “YOU??”

“Maybe I wanna be a bit wild sometimes you know.”

“YOU? WILD??”

….

……

“Aw… is someone insecure of his pooch?” you tease, poking his side.

He scoffs.

“SCUSE ME??? NO I DON’T HAVE- YOU KNOW WHAT? Number one: skinny dipping is ILLEGAL. And considering I was top of my class at the police academy I don’t really feel like BREAKING THE LAW.” He waves his pointer finger at you.

“Number two: skinny dipping requires getting naked and pardon me if I don’t feel like flashing you or wanting to get flashed by someone I consider a close friend-“

You roll your eyes and shove him “psh your loss pal.” Deep down it did kinda hurt that he didn’t want to see you naked.

“Sureeee sure my loss.” He gestures to himself with his hands.

Then the conversation dies off, leaving you both to your thoughts.

…

Jezz I must really be the only one who’s had romantic thoughts huh?

I’m such a fool.

I’ve seen those watches him and Chris wear, he’s loaded. Why’d he want me? All that stupid flirting… ugh I’m so dumb….

“Yeah alright, you wanna go skinny dipping- let’s go.”

His voice breaks the silence.

“Yeah I get it Scott, it was a j-…. Wait sorry?”

He turns his head to look over to you.

“Let’s go skinny dipping.”

…

“Are you for real?”

“Unless you were kidding-“

“No.. I’d like to.”

“Great.” He slaps his knees and stands up.

“My pool fine?” He offers you his hand casually to help you stand.

“You have a pool?” You take his hand and push yourself off the bench.

“Yeah. Why not?”

The more you know…

This would be the first time you’ve been to Leon’s house. You didn’t know he had one. He’s so all over the show most times, you didn’t think he’d have one set address. He goes on so many “business trips” that when you guys usually spend time, it’s on the fly or impromptu.

So when you pull up in a taxi to an actually really suave looking home in the suburbs, you are kinda speechless. I mean you knew the man had money but not nice house money.

He helps you out the car and you walk up to the gates of his so called ‘abode’.

“When did you buy a house?” You ask him, genuinely puzzled and shocked by the whole shebang.

He starts sifting through a keyring with far too many keys dangling from it (and far too little charms in your opinion) “Oh- I dunno sometime maybe 3 years ago? Chris and another friend convinced me to get a ‘Homebase’ I guess” he says nonchalantly.

…

Right.

Eventually he unlocks the front gate.

“After you.” He dramatically gestures, bowing forward and swinging his arm toward the now open pathway.

You huff a laugh and make your way inside, eyeing everything.

With every step you took, you questioned if he actually lived here.

The garden was pretty overgrown and the paint on the outside walls were chipped. It looked like no one had taken care of this place, well ever.

He unlocks the front door and you’re genuinely surprised in his taste for decor. It’s pretty vintage. (Which you thoroughly enjoyed)

“Scuse the dust, haven’t been here in a while.” He mentions after you both step inside.

‘Haven’t been here in a while’ was the understatement of the century. Every piece of furniture was caked in dust. So thickly that you could smell it. You run your pointer finger across the surface of the wood cabinet next to you in the entry way and marvel at how the tip of your finger has now completely changed colour.

“I do have someone come every week to take of the pool however, so we should be fine.”

He shrugs his jacket off and blows some dust off the coat hanger before hanging it up. You pass your coat to him to hang it up for you, but you do do it very apprehensively.

…

You take a look at your surroundings again.

HOW DOES HAS HE AFFORDED ALL OF THIS??? JUST WHAT TYPE OF JOB DOES HE HAVE????

“I’ll go turn on the pool heater uh- make yourself at home. I’ll be back in a minute.” He smiles before heading down the hall.

YOU FELT EXTREMELY AWKWARD.

You didn’t think he’d actually say yes to skinny dipping, let alone let you do it in HIS OWN POOL THAT YOU DIDN’T KNOW HE HAD. I mean technically, I guess it’s better that it’s a personal pool…

You were overthinking immediately. You weren’t exactly the most confident in your body and now the guy you had been slowly falling in love with for the last 4 years was going to see ALL OF IT. WITHOUT YOU EVEN BEING SURE HE HAD THE SAME SORT OF FEELINGS IN RETURN. You didn’t even know if he saw you as a woman. Well a woman to be attracted to anyway.

What are we doing here? What am I doing here???

…

Focus.

It doesn’t matter.

You stare in the direction he went in.

It’ll be fine. This will be fun.

…

After about 30 minutes of just sitting there in deafening silence staring at every decoration in his house, his footsteps finally started coming back in your direction so your head lifted instantly.

“You wanna just jump in now or…?” He says, poking his head in the doorway.

“Uhhh…… yeah.” You shrug. “Sure.” You smile, giving your best attempt of hiding the nervous breakdown you were having inside your head.

He slaps the doorframe “alrighty, cmon.” He nudges his head in the direction of what you assume is the pool.

You push yourself up off your seat and follow closely behind.

Oh I’m gonna throw up.

As soon as you step foot into the little indoor pool area, the heat melts off the winter air that clung to your face and that makes your shoulders relax unintentionally.

“Wow Leon, this is niiiice.” you say, nodding your head as you admire the area.

“Thank you kindly.” He says as he switches off the lights that illuminate the bottom of the pool.

Good call

“So… who’s getting in first?”

….

“You get in, I have more layers to take off.” You sniffle, your eyes looking everywhere but in his direction.

“Alright.” He says with a sigh and soon the sound of a belt unbuckling is heard. Within a singular minute, he’s stripped and already diving in.

“AGH LEON-“ you cover your face as waves of water splash on you. He comes up to the surface and throws his hair back, a big smile on his face. OMG.

He was so gorgeous and that was so attractive. Omg.

“You getting in?”

“In a minute man. Turn around.”

He turns himself around so his back his facing you and brings his hands up to cover his eyes, “I won’t peek, swear.”

You then stand there and switch your weight from one leg to the other for a good solid minute, contemplating the whole situation.

Am I really doing this? Did I even shave? Ugh….

Your eyes drift over to his pile of clothes as you slowly begin taking off the layers you had on, folding them so super slowly to as waste time. You were heavy stalling for sure.

Okay he left his boxers on, that means I can keep mine on, at least. Pf no I’m not disappointed, who said that?

“You gonna take seven more years or what?” He jokes.

“Someone’s impatient I see. Perv.” You counter.

“Shut up.” He responds in a huff of laughter.

Eventually your clothes are all neatly folded on the floor and your shoes lined up next to them so you spin around to look at his back… oh dear heaven.

STOP.

You squeeze your eyes shut and take three large strides toward the water before jumping with all the energy you could muster, tucking your knees to your chest.

As soon as you’re in, every single worry falls away.

When you come up for air and you feel a hand come to your arm to help you keep your balance. “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me.” He says, helping you get the hair sticking to your cheeks back behind your ears.

You had goosebumps all over your shoulders and forearms and a smile spread wide across your face. You were pretty sure the goosebumps were from cold shock though.

“LEON THIS WATER IS FREEZING YOU BABOON.”

You slap his chest with one hand as you wipe the water from your eyes with the other. “Sorry guess we didn’t give it enough time to heat up.”

You give him a side eye when you can finally open your eyes again before splashing him.

He splashed you back in retaliation.

And so a fight begun.

You dodged his attacks and countered with your own, water flying everywhere. You were holding up decently well… up until he used his secret technique. Using both of his hands that were significantly bigger than your own.

He sends a wave your way and you drive to dodge it, only for him to dive right after you and grab your ankles.

You come up for air with gasp. “YOU FAT KIDNEYED FLEA.“ you couldn’t see a thing.

All you could hear was the sound of water in your ears and his muffled guffaws as he strained to get out this one sentence.

“You look like the hairy guy from the Addams family.” He said between cackles.

You gasped again “COUSIN THING???? HOW DARE YOU!!!”

He swims over to you and helps you free your face from its hairy prison. As soon as you are free however, you pounce on him, sending you both underwater. You try to make your daring escape to abandon him there but he’s a bit more of a faster swimmer than you.

He catches up QUICK, grabs you around the waist and suplexes you. BANG, a nose full of water. You take the chance when you’re down there to bite the back of his left thigh. Revenge. He lets out a muffled yelp, “what the fuck-“ which bubbles from his mouth before he surfaces to spin around and look at you but you’re already swimming away, chuckling as you go.

“I’M GONNA CATCH YOU, YOU DAMN PIRANHA.”

…

You don’t know how long passes nor do you care.

That was so fun.

Now you’re both just here, leaning back to back, enjoying the warm water now that it’s finally heated up.

It’s a really nice moment.

So much of a nice moment, you both haven’t even really comprehended that you’ve both just seen each other in their underwear yet. But shh shh, let’s not think about that.

You feel his back against yours, his very muscular, beautiful… I’m sorry.

Anyway, it’s very grounding. It feels so real.

For a second you think about everything.

Your life, your past friendships and relationships and how badly some of them have ended, recently even. And how badly all of its affected you.

Then you think about this big teddy bear behind you.

Oh you want him. You want to hold him, you want things like what you guys did today to be a regular thing.

…

How long would regular last for?

… stop.

Oh stop it. Oh stop moving, what are you doing? You might screw up one of the only good things you have left, don’t you want to keep things this good while you’re still here to experience it?

…

No.

I feel like doing something stupid.

“… what’re you doing..?” He asks as your arms wrap around his midriff and your chest comes to press against his back.

“Do you hate it?”

…

“… no…”

….

:)

That’s a very good answer.

…

You two sit there like that for a good minute or two before he tries to turn around, you loosen your grip and as soon as those hazy blue eyes look down at you, you feel very self conscious. You take this chance to take a good look at him too single he’s already doing the same to you. Your heart does funny little acrobatic tricks in your chest as your eyes travel down his torso.

He’s sure got a lot of scars… they’re faded but… those must have hurt.

You felt bad for him… and he obviously notices that.

Pity was not something he wanted you to feel while looking at him right now, not that you knew that anyway.

Now that he’s really looking at you… you don’t really look well… which worries him…

You didn’t give him much chance to think about that though, because you were already going up on your tip toes, leaning in toward his face.

His eyes go wide and he puts his hands on your arms to pull you away.

“Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

…

Your heart sunk.

“…sorry… didn’t mean to gross you out.” You immediately retreated, pulling yourself out of his grasp and turning to climb out of the water, wanting nothing more than to shove your head into a wall over and over again out of sheer embarrassment.

You thought you knew what type of eyes he was giving you, that you knew what that expression meant. You were wrong obviously, you dumb idiot.

As soon as you put your hands on the edge of the pool to push yourself out, his arms come to cage you in.

You freeze, your shoulders tensing.

“Never said you grossed me out…”

Omg. Has his voice always been that reverberant?

“Just said that I didn’t want you doing anything you’ll regret.”

…

“Why’d you stop me then?” You ask quietly, your ears and face dusted with a rosy tint.

“…because. I’m old…”

You mentally face palmed. Guess he didn’t catch the memo huh.

“… I’m gonna kill you.” You muttered.

“Hm? I-“

You spun around, closed your eyes and smashed your lips against his. You felt him stumble… and at first he didn’t react which made you nervous but as soon as those hands laid themselves on your back, you both melted.

You’d been dreaming about this for years. And it was exactly and wonderful as what you thought it’d be.

The room is silent with nothing but the sound of the water softly dripping from his and your hair.

You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck and he wraps his arms around your body, pulling you closer against him as he leans his head to the side for a better angle. Oh it was perfect, he was so comfortable to lean on, like his body was made to be the perfect pillow. His warmth, the callouses on his hands, his arms pressing against your sides, it was all so nice. He begins to slowly walk to the edge of the pool as things get more heated. And then that’s where your guilt creeps in.

He sits you down and you pull away from him, his lips chasing after yours after the loss of sudden contact.

“I’m dying.”

He huffs.

“Didn’t think I was that good at kissing-“

“No… Leon…. I’m…”

Your purse your lips as tears well up in your eyes, your throat becoming tight.

How could you do this to him. How could you.

Look at how happy this man is. You can’t drop a bomb on him like this now after doing all that.

“I’m dying….”

….

His whole expression changes.

“What do you mean?”

He straightens up and steps closer to you, his brows knitting together as he tries to gauge you.

You huff, blinking away the tears stinging your eyes.

“I’m dying.”

“From what?” He says sternly.

“… I don’t really know…” you felt utterly defeated. You were pretty much utterly defeated…

“Is it cancer or-?” His voice cracked.

Your head immediately snapped up and your hand come to touch his chest.

“No! No it’s not cancer no oh I’m sorry- No my body is just really pathetic- it’s not anything that bad-“

“But it’s killing you?”

You both just stared at each other.

“Well… technically no…or yes? I don’t… I’m just… fading I guess.”

He looked so confused and upset. Oh you were the worst.

“My body just can’t keep up with me anymore or with anything anymore… and what ever I have… it’s not treatable… trust me, I’ve looked.”

He sighs so deeply, then he comes to sit next to you.

Then you both just set there in heavy silence. Which gives both of you some time to think about what’s just happened and what’s been said. You decide to speak up first.

“Leon why is your house so dusty? Why haven’t you been here in while?” You ask plainly.

He sighs even harder.

“I’m dead anyway. I know you’re Italian American, so if you’re wrapped up in something dangerous you can tell me-“ you start.

“No! Shit- no I’m not a gangster.” He stops you. “But it’s… sort of not something I can talk about.”

…

“That’s sort of scary…”

He laughs.

“Didn’t mean to sound so ominous… no it’s just… classified?” He says, raising an eyebrow.

“Classified??? Are you sure you’re not a gangster?”

“I’m more worried about why you’re so causal about it if you thought I was a gangster, makes me kinda want to question your morals- but no I’m not a gangster. I do have a job and that job forces me to kinda move around a lot as I’m sure you’ve guessed.” He brings his hand up to rub the back of his neck as he tries to think of a way to explain himself without outing his profession. He sits there and ponders it over in silence for a good few seconds.

“???”

…

“I uhm… I work in security. Yeah… let’s go with that.”

“Five nights at Freddy’s.”

“SORRY?”

“Nevermind, so you’re not a gangster. This is good to hear. I was slightly having a bit of a panic attack about that.”

“…sure.”

You clear your throat.

“So. I don’t… I don’t really know where to go from here.” You say awkwardly.

“Maybe we can start with I dunno, a timeline? When did you, Y’know… get sick I guess.”

Your turn to sigh deeply.

“Started around maybe… 2 years ago? Injures stated happening one after another and I just wasn’t healing right. Then I just eventually started not really healing from anything. I don’t… I don’t really know what’s going to happen to me… I’m kinda just living day to day now. Trying to find reasons to live. Things to be happy about.”

You sniff.

“Because after all those hospital bills and fighting my own body… I really don’t want to die.” The words fall out of your lips like they each weighed a ton. Your head dropped into your hands and the tears started rolling.

“I don’t feel like I’ve done anything with my life yet, I don’t feel like I matter yet… I don’t want to just fade away. I worked so hard… for what? Just to die before I was able to prove myself worthy of life? I’m not special, I’ve gone through the whole depression and suicidal phase. But now I really just want my life to work… and it feels like the more I want it the more I try and hold on the more I feel like it’s being sucked right out of my hands….like some cruel joke.”

…

“I can’t do this anymore-“

“You can.”

…

He brought his hands up to your cheeks and turned your face toward him then wiped the tears that clung to your lashes away with the pads of his thumbs.

“… I had no idea things had been so hard for you recently… I’m sorry…” he said softly.

You chuckled between sniffles, “no it’s okay, makes me feel better to know I was decently good at hiding it.”

He was happy to see that even after all that hardship, you still found something to smile about.

“… I know it’s hard but… keep pushing. Even if you’re out’ve steam now take it slow, till you can crawl then from there you can figure out how to walk again. I’m sure it’ll take long but it’s worth it. I’ll also try n’ help with hospital bills if you want.”

“I can’t ask that of you-“

“Money can come back, you can’t.”

…

He was far too good at comforting.

“Also please don’t even say that you’re dying again because I kinda really want uhm… this to happen” he gestured to the both of you. “Is that selfish? I feel like that’s kinda selfish I’m sorry-“

You smiled, “no- no I… I also want this to happen. Actually has made me feel 7 times better just having had some of my feelings reciprocated.”

He looked down at you with warmth in his eyes, a warmth you had thought you’d never feel from another person ever again. “So, if I can ask… when did you… you know. Start feeling things for me, I guess?”

You sigh and look up, wracking your mind to try and think of a specific time you started seeing him as more than a friend. “Sheesh…. Maybe… uhhh… Oh.” You smiled to yourself as you recalled the memory. “Ha!”

“What?” He said curiously, his lips curving up as he mirrors your expression.

“Uhm do you remember that time you asked me to bring you some coffee while you were sorting through some paper work?”

He scoffs then sits there a second to think, brows furrowing, “… No? Wait…. WAIT YOU MEAN-“ his whole face lights up “That was 4 years ago…” he looks utterly dumbfounded. “I was a total mess that day…”

“I think that’s what made me be like ‘oh’ Y’know?”

He looks at you with a puzzled expression “no?”

You sigh. “Well I mean it’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Well now I have to hear this.” He makes himself comfortable- well as comfortable as he can, sitting on concrete at edge of a pool.

“So uhm… when you uhm…. Opened the door. Looking all tired and messy, hair unkept and stubble grown out, a casual shirt, I definitely felt like… y’know? Then I take a proper look at you and you’re wearing glasses and I know they’re only like blue light blockers and you don’t really need them but I mean like Wow, right?” You say awkwardly, not really being able to say any of this properly or without busting out a fat blush.

“No I don’t think I do know but…go on.”

You clear your throat. “Mm. Right okay. Then you like lean against the door, sighing in relief when you see me- and I dunno I was like waw and that was just enough. The I was like, Man he’s actually like y’know.” You make a weird kind of bubble popping gesture with your hands. Leon looks heavily confused but luckily, flattered.

“Thank… you? Gee I guess I thought maybe you started liking me because I was nice or something not because one day you suddenly found my casual attire attractive.” He shrugs, a breathy lighthearted huff leaving his lips.

“NO no I do think you’re so nice, you’re one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met Scotty, I swear-“

You cuts you off, seeing the panic in your eyes and wanting to not add fuel to the overthinking flames, “I’m messing with you.” He notifies.

This does earn him a bit of a slap on the arm.

“Ow-“

“I’m trying to be serious here.”

“So am I! I’m sorry.” nothing about his current demeanour says that he’s sorry. He goes quiet for a moment, just looking at you.

You’re just sitting there trying to sort through all of your thoughts, swirling your foot around in the water, when he decides to speak up.

“I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to kiss you since the second day we met”

Your heart literally stops and every single gear in your mind comes to a halt. It takes a second for everything to start back up again before you respond.

“Wuh…? For real? And… how long have you had… if you do… feelings for me?”

“If I have feelings for you? Are you kidding?”

“I don’t know… you might have kissed me in the heat of the moment I don’t-“

Before you can even finish that lousy sentence, he’s pressed a feather light kiss onto your lips. And before you could even close your eyes and reciprocate said kiss, he pulled away.

“You get the memo now…?” He says with a soft smile.

…

MHMHMHN.

Relax.

“Yeah alright… doesn’t mean you’re my boyfriend yet though.” You say with faux confidence.

He scoffs and leans back with a sly look on his face “and why’s that?”

“You’ll have to be a man and actually ask me out first.”

His lips spread into a grin and he promptly slides off where he’s sitting right back into the water. Then comes to stand in front of you, clasping his hands together and laying them in your lap before clearing his throat.

“Well then.”

He looks up at you and it’s almost blinding. Lethal face card omg.

“I would very much like to make dinner plans with you. With romantic intention. Would you do me the honour of letting me take you out on a date?”

He was so good. UGH.

Contain yourself.

“…Why yes. The honour would be mine. Say, tomorrow?” You offer, trying your best to hide the oncoming smile that’s threatening to burst out.

“Tomorrow it is. Want me to make you breakfast?” He suggests casually.

You scoff, “How gentlemanly of you, you have all my meds on standby then? to back up that claim?”

…

“Dinner it is, I’ll pick you up at 8.”

“Let’s just get out of the pool first, then we can negotiate. My toes are already raisins at this point.” You pat his cheek.

“Anything for you.”

Oh just give him another kiss at this point l, he deserves it. And you sorely need it.

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙⋆ ⋆⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⋆ ❆ ⋆∘∙⊱⋅•⋅꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

if this reaches 100 notes, i'll draw something

good luck because I dont think its possible- i have 7 followers

idk what i'll draw

maybe some cotl stuff, maybe ultrakill

maybe Idleon?

...could fanboy out and draw tally hall stuff lmao-

Last week YouTube served me an ad that fundamentally changed how I understand myself.  It made me finally realise after years of struggling with this unamable feeling, that I am an addict.

I’m not addicted to one specific thing though, veering instead from one addiction to the next, always chasing that next high. I cringe to say this, but I have an addictive personality. This might not seem much of a revelation; it sounds like the sort of thing you might flippantly claim after getting your third frappe in a single day, like it’s a fun personality quirk rather than something looming at the edge of your world, threatening to take your life over at any given moment. 

I can, and will, get addicted to basically anything. I’ve had periods where it’s been gambling, smoking, social media, junk food, weed, booze, porn, and even pain. Usually it’s some combination of addictions working in concert together, but my first and truest addiction is video games. 

The ad that prompted this newfound self-awareness was for a game called IdleOn. It ran for maybe a minute, the entirety of which was this emphatic endorsement for how addictive the game was. About how there was always more to do, how all-consuming it is, and how the narrator had put hundreds of hours into it, how they hadn’t seen the sun for weeks. Stylistically it was laden with post-ironic doomerism that’s become so prevalent online these days. The world is on fire, I’m a car wreck of various personality disorders, we’re all miserable but we’re also laughing about it so it’s okay. You know the vibe. 

I couldn't find the trailer again, but it looks like Heroin: The Game

As far as I can tell, without doing any research, addiction to video games is extremely common but also largely dismissed as unimportant. Being addicted to video games is often the point, and it’s not a new trend either. 

If you’re a wizened old hag like me who remembers the days when dodgy streaming-sites were the de facto way to watch films and TV online, you’ll be familiar with the addictiveness as a selling point in advertising. Banner ads featuring half-naked anime figures, with taglines like “THE MOST ADDICTIVE GAME EVER” will no doubt feature somewhere in your core memories. 

The whole reason you should play IdleOn, according to the marketing, is so that you can become addicted. So that you can spend countless hours in a meaningless grind that will consume your entire life. A full mask-off approach. I’m sure IdleOn isn’t the only game making its case so plainly, but this ad caught me at the right moment to trigger a profound, existential horror.

It made me realise that is, and always has been, my relationship with video games. Once I lock in, that’s it for months until the shame and regret and frustration at wasting all of that time finally shunts me out of the spiral for maybe a couple of weeks. But I never considered it an addiction before, because it was just so normal. A fish unaware of the water. 

This isn't some serious, rock bottom revelation or come to Jesus moment about how I need to change my ways before I ruin my life. I’ve already ruined and rebuilt my life, I’m happy with where I am, content with my choices (or at least at peace with them). I have been to rock bottom, and clawed my back out. That’s not where I am now. But something about naming this lifelong experience for what it truly is has been extremely liberating, and helped release me from its grip. For now at least.

My addiction is more life-limiting than it is life-threatening. I am not in danger of losing my relationship, my home, my financial security. I think when we talk about addiction, those are usually the stakes that spring to mind. We see alcoholics on kidney dialysis, gambling addicts made homeless; we see musty community halls with Twelve Step programmes and desperate people on the edge of ruin. 

Make no mistake though, I have been to those musty community halls drinking bitter instant coffee, chatting to a woman who’s drinking got so bad in university she nearly threw herself off a bridge. 

I often describe myself during that time as a “basically a high-functioning alcoholic”. The words “basically” and “high functioning” are a deliberate choice to mitigate and downplay the reality though. 

“I am not an Alcoholic,” I tell myself. “Just, y’know, basically a high-functioning one. It’s different. There is a distinction, and it does matter.”

I haven't thought about this meme format for like 20 years

I attended a handful of AA meetings, but decided I didn’t need it. I never stood up in front of all those people and said the words that you can’t unsay, the incantation that changes your reality from one of denial to one of acceptance. The all important first step. I told myself it was because I couldn’t speak in front of a room full of strangers, but that’s not true. I’ve done that dozens of times. The truth is, I couldn’t be honest. 

I was a problem drinker from the first time I got drunk at 11-years-old, sneaking booze whenever I could, and needing to drink to excess in every social situation. I drank every day from the moment I turned 18, right through until I was about 29 when I finally started to get a handle on it. But I held down a full-time job for much of my twenties, and even had a career at one point, something I cannot do these days without booze as a crutch. 

I now have a reasonably healthy relationship with alcohol, but it’s still fraught. Oblivion is always just a few steps away. If there is booze in the house, I will drink it. The only thing that slows me down these days is that Estrogen has fucked my tolerance, but I feel the pull towards the booze aisle every time I’m in the supermarket. It takes physical effort to not drink every day, and once I start I don’t want to stop.

Even if I am not at risk of imploding my life, I feel pinned down and stymied by my own addicted nature. I am now staring down the barrel of middle age, clutching onto a handful of totally achievable ambitions, but utterly paralysed in my ability to make any of it happen. 

I’ve been working on one novel or another for the best part of ten years and up until recently all I had to show for it was several hundred thousand words of false starts and discarded projects. Something changed last month though, and I was given an amazing opportunity that I cannot currently speak about publicly. But it’s huge. I was so excited when I found out that I actually cried (I am not a big crier). It requires work though, a lot of hard graft, and I have found myself sinking like the fucking Titanic.

For the last few years, the conditions for me to write my book couldn’t have been more perfect. I have time, financial security, space, and support. There are people out there struggling to find 30 minutes a day to write, and still they manage. Yet I find my urge to create is drowned out by the noise of that irresistible pull. 

The siren song of whatever bullshit I’m currently addicted to. Right now it is Pokémon Showdown, but a few months ago it was Divinity Original Sin II, and before that it was a RuneScape relapse, which had been preceded by a different RuneScape relapse, at least three Elden Ring spirals, a couple of Wildermyth stints, and fuck knows how many Xcom and Total War binges. 

An actual photo of me, aged 34

When I was 25, I was unemployed, living with my parents, with no obligations or commitments. I had a writing year for my Master’s dissertation and had also started a self-taught journalism diploma which should have, at best, taken me six months. Instead I spent the entire year playing League of Legends from sunset to sunrise, because I was completely nocturnal. 

Just hour after torturous hour, chasing the dopamine hit of a victory screen that became ever more elusive the longer I played and the more frustrated and titled I became. I wasn’t even having fun, but I literally didn’t want to do anything else. It was all I could think about.

When I wasn’t playing League, I was watching YouTube and Twitch streams, or theorycrafting or just thinking about it. No, thinking is the wrong word. That implies consciousness. It was more like League had colonised my mind, setting up in my brain as a series of flashing after images, impulsive and meaningless impressions left on the brain. Like radiation poisoning slowly dissolving my mind long after exposure. 

I never completed my journalism diploma, and my dissertation turned out so bad it brought down my average mark from high 70s to low 60s. The thing is though, I still graduated with my MA with Merit and managed to find a job in journalism. I think that means I might be actually smart and capable, but simply refuse to apply myself. Which aligns with every school report I ever had. I would be unstoppable if I could pull myself away from the screen or the bottle or whatever my current kick is long enough to get my shit together. 

My earliest memory of these compulsive behaviours was my obsession with Spyro 2: Ripto’s Rage. I didn’t have my own copy, so my dad would rent it for me from the local game store every weekend until he realised it made more financial sense to just buy a copy. I’d smash it out, start to finish, over and over again, usually completely naked for some reason. 

Mentally I am here

When I couldn’t play because my brother wanted the TV, or I had school, or we had to “go outside” to do something as a family, I fucking hated it. I would spend each moment just itching with the need to scorch Ripto’s bare-ass with the super fireball you get for 100% completion. 

From there I moved onto the Might and Magic series which accounted for my tween years a solid chunk of my twenties. My only real memories of high school are being bullied, and wishing I was at home playing Might & Magic VII: For Blood and Honour (one of the all time greats, btw). 

This screenshot is amateur hour, the only true way to play Might and Magic VII is with three liches and one cleric

When I discovered RuneScape at about 14 years old, I played for so long I got a crick in my neck and couldn’t go to school. I spent the next four days recovering and playing more RuneScape, just with better posture. In sixth form college I played Guild Wars for upwards of 16 hours a day. My friends would log on, also in college, studying for the same exams, and leave after a sensible couple of hours only to come back and find me still playing. I nearly flunked my third year of University because I was addicted to speed running Sonic Generations of all things. 

This isn't even close to comprehenisve list, but you get the point. I am always hooked on something, and it stands between me and the things I actually want. I don’t want meteoric success, fame, acclaim, staggering wealth or anything like that. I want the ability to function, to actively pursue my goals without falling into the same fucking ditch, over and over and over. 

I was in that ditch until just a few days ago, hooked on Pokémon Showdown, and not for the first time in my life. I haven’t played since this recent revelation and don’t currently have a desire to. But until about five days ago I was getting out of bed and immediately grinding that ladder for hours, playing for so long that I’d wake up in the middle of the night with Breloom on the brain. I love my sweet mushroom boy, but he just doesn’t fit onto my team. 

On good days this compulsion just feels like a desire to solve a puzzle, to stimulate my mind with something complex and engaging; a need to crack a complex system and understand it, pull it to pieces and find all the unusual little quirks that allow me to dominate it. I will make Goodra the lynchpin of my team in Showdown, I just need to figure out how. It's reaching my limitaitons and overcoming them. It’s control, it’s power, it’s drive.

I'm running Assault Vest, max HP and max attack with Draco Meteor, Fire Punch, Earthquake and Knock Off. I gave her Sap Sipper and paired her with Gastrodon... it pretty works well.

The irony is, I started playing Showdown again because I had to lock down all my social media accounts with strict usage timers or I would doomscroll Reels and Shorts for hours on end. I needed something to fill the yawning pit in my soul that craves. Right now I can’t even tell you what it craves exactly. Sometimes I think it’s oblivion, other times it’s dopamine. Perhaps it’s just a form of self-harm, designed to keep me safe from the fear of failure, from the pain of struggling. 

Either way, I think I can finally accept that I am an addict. If I can get addicted to something, I will. I need to find a way to live in harmony with that part of myself, because a strict ethos of denial has never worked. If I cut something out of my life, I just replace it with something else. It's a cycle, and while I might enjoy a few weeks or months where I am free from the pull, it doesnt' last.

I hope i found the right little guys

Theyre so so so cute