#been a couple months since i reread
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betterlucknexttime · 11 months ago
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everyone talks about the callousness of kevin’s first question being “can you play?” but. he grew up in the Nest, where he and jean were beaten routinely and stitched each other back together. (i also feel like we talk about neil’s first aid skills and never kevin’s, which he surely has, but that’s another post.) and in the Nest, that was the most important question. “can you play?” that’s all we’re good for. that’s all we have.
and it’s not much different with neil. yes, neil is hurt. but he could be dead—he will be dead at the end of the year. and he gave kevin his game, which means kevin is responsible. it’s “all for the game.” exy is neil’s LIFE.
would we rather kevin asked if neil was okay? “how are you?” wouldn’t that be the stupidest question ever? of course he’s not okay. three weeks in the Nest, torture at the hands of his father and his cronies. neil is not “okay” but we all his answer will be “i’m fine” just like we all know it’s the only lie he can’t pull off.
when neil can’t play, kevin is strict about his health. “you’re no use to us if you push yourself and end up needing another week to recover.” (or something like that)
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“jean, you’re bleeding, stay still, press here, shh, can you play?” tears in he stitches up his best friend and only ally at fourteen. his eyes are dry five years later. this is old hat. there’s eight hours till scrimmage and they must be on the court. if jean can’t play, he needs to think of something. cover for him. take whatever blows riko decides are worthy punish enemy for his absence on his behalf.
“neil, can you play?” have i failed my end of the bargain? will you live? (because being able to play becomes synonymous with neil, kevin, and jean’s survival.) do you still have something worth living for?
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fluffyartbl0g · 2 years ago
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Someone get this man a younger sibling that ISNT like. Twice his height.
#one piece#op fanart#monkey d. luffy#shirahoshi#kozuki momonosuke#IVE FINISHED REREADING THROUGH WANO IM OBSESSED WITH MOMONOSUKE NOW#I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND I MISS HIM SO MUCH T - T!!!!#literally tears streaming down my face ‘But I think of you like a little brother!#You’ve heard of laser beam that make you read one piece#get ready for laser beam that makes you REREAD one piece#srsly. do it. I didn’t care about characters like bellamy or shirahoshi or even momonosuke all that much on my first read through#IM OBSESSED NOW. I LOVE HARUDJIN THE GIANT TOO AND I CANT WAIT TO SEE MORE OF HIM T - T!!! I ALSO DIDNT CARE ABOUT KATAKURI LIKE AT ALL#NOW I CANT GET ENOUGH#also what the actual heck guys. I know its only been a couple of months since wano ended.#but why aren’t there any fics centred on luffy and momo being brothers… There’s like one on ao3 and it’s in italian…#PEOPLE ARE ACTUALLY SLEEPING SO HARD ON LUFFY BEING THE OLDER BROTHER/MENTOR TO BOTH MOMO AND SHIRAHOSHI#IM SO MAD#SHIRAHOSHI AND MOMO ARE BOTH THE CHOSEN ONES ; - ;!!! AND LUFFY HAS BEEN PROHPESIZED TO HELP GUIDE THEM TO USE THEIR POWERS!!!#eg shirahoshi hearing the voices of the sea kings and momo hearing zunesha#both times luffy hasn’t been able to talk to them… but he’s been able to guide his younger siblings to use their powers properly#No im fr obsessed with luffy and shirahoshi and momo WHERE THE GOD DAMN FANFICTION AAAGFRGEHSHHSHSHS#LUFFY TREATING SHIRAHOSHI AND MOMO THE SAME WAY ACE TREATED HIM WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER T - T#KILL ME AAAAA1!!1!1!1!!1!1!1#99 percent of all tags on my posts are just me freaking out LMAOOOO
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fictionadventurer · 1 month ago
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Potential January Reads
A Brilliant Night of Ice and Stars by Rebecca Connolly
Rhododendron Pie by Margery Sharp
So Big by Edna Ferber
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Vibrant Paradoxes by Bishop Robert Barron
The Diary of a Country Priest by George Bernanos
Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope
Katherine Wentworth by D.E. Stevenson
#monthly reading lists#books#i have so many specific books that i've been lining up#(especially since at the end of the month i was saving new books for the new year)#that i don't need the wider categories#the january categories are still represented#we have lots of vintage fiction (including an american one)#the first book is the story of the carpathia's rescue of the titanic#soon as i saw that premise i was like 'yes please'#it will cover january's category of a book with a cold setting#i read the first couple of chapters and a novel from the perspective of real people is very weird but i like the story so i'll keep going#i also started 'rhododendron pie' and it seems delightful#it's about someone straddling the worlds of normal grounded people and artsy people#and as someone from the world of normal grounded people who likes artsy stuff but still has the perspective that a lot of it is quite silly#i think it will be nice and relatable#i think i'm going to succumb to jane-eyre-ry#every time i consider a different classic reread my brain's just like 'what about jane eyre though?'#'vibrant paradoxes' is a book of essays that i got for free along with my book of church fathers#it's a very thick book to give away for free and looks good#i love essays and these are nice and short#it'll be good to dip into through the month#(i also want to read the church fathers book but that's not something to put on a monthly reading list)#(just something to read through thoughtfully like the bible)#'diary of a country priest' caught my attention months ago#and now that the library hold came in i have zero interest#but maybe putting it on a list will convince me to try#i'd kind of like to keep this one-barchester-a-month thing going and 'doctor thorne' is next#'katherine wentworth' is exactly the kind of vintage fiction that january is made for and i'd like to try and get it off my unread shelf#oh and i forgot to mention someone recommended ferber's first book#but when i downloaded that one i also figured maybe i should read the famous pulitzer-prize-winning one
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coridallasmultipass · 5 months ago
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#hhhhhh reread the flashback chapter i wrote w d/dirk and just hooh boy i love it so much ugh#im tempted to post it on its own but i want to save that bomb of a scene for the middle of the larger fic its in#just ughhhhhhh i love everything about how i wrote d#im going nuts bc i have been working on it since like december? ish? but the past couple months have been hell for me personally#fuck like i remember going thru an entire calendar of movie release dates for that historical year and found the perfect spot#to where it accounts for historical events and events in canon and has its own special date and how the release of the movie...#...effects how d managed to make it a success and just#fuck man i researched the hell out of that and only had to put one anachronism to grease a moment in it#like#this fic is so big for me and i am so scared that i wont finish it bc i have so many things planned out for it and so many ...#...annotations i keep adding to modify things i wrote earlier in it (which is why im not publishing any of it yet)#i want to share it w the world so fucking badly but i keep getting amazing ideas to weave in from an earlier point i already wrote#cries lol#ughhh this is why im so tempted to post the flashback as a standalone chapter/separate posting#but#i wrote it to match a scene from both the previous and next chapter so i dont wanna ruin that either#fucking writers block man ahhhh wish my life wasnt shit rn bc i need to finish it#tag edit: i used the wrong spelling of affects earlier lol#but yeah ughhhh so frustrated w life rn i have such bigger problems going on rn but#rereading my fave chapter kinda just made my day at least lmao#personal#vent#kinda i guess#delete later / /#maybe idk lol#ShitPost.exe#like this wip is over 33k words and its probably not even halfway done in terms of event points i want to happen in it lmao fml#all bc i wanted to make one punchline happen which happened a long time ago before i wanted to write all that backstory into the fic
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yellowloid · 1 year ago
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FINALLY managed to make some progress on my wip thank GOD and all the saints in heaven for this christmas miracle
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technicolorlove · 1 year ago
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Okay so what I find so funny about IDW1 (transformers) is that if you think about it every cybertronian who considers their gender, even for a moment, is trans. As mechanoid beings with no real sex (they have to build more in a factory when the ground stops spitting them out) and zero concept of gender (some barely even know that "she" is a concept) the fact that they can go out in the universe and learn that the concept of a "woman" exists and some of them will go "Oh shit, that's me" and others will go "huh, neat" and then continue to go by he/him means that they've selected their default or changed but they still picked a gender out where they did not have one before!!!
Elephant in the room is Arcee but I follow the retcon's lore (which doesnt really make sense if you think about it from like a story angle but like it stops her from being in a weird grey zone of trans-ness) so like she's fine I think.
This also gets into why there are so many homo-romantic (or shit even poly romantic) relationships in IDW1 because, again, these robots have no concept of gender, sex, or monogamy. They care more about what color badge you wear than who, how, or how many you love lmao.
I can also extend this to talk about neruodivergence and how interesting that is in a mechanical race because it presents new and interesting problems. (Also with physical disabilities but that's out of my personal wheelhouse) and dont even get me started on bots who dont have a humanoid mode. Beast formers and bodily autonomy is sooo fucking interesting especially to me as someone who is a big puppy hiding in human skin lmao
in short; every idw transformer is trans if you think about it
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deepwoundsandfadedscars · 1 year ago
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whytheylosttheirminds · 9 months ago
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron
(Prologue and Chapter 1)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
⯎series masterlist⯎
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Prologue
Before gold, before grams, before the gun, there was you. Back when there weren’t crosses to steal, lines to snort, cops to run from, there was you. Long summer nights on the Druthers, your mom blowing up your phone ‘cause you missed curfew again. Skipping class and riding to the beach on the back of his bike. All the way back to grade school, playing tag and pretending you were pirates. Then middle school, that kiss under the lifeguard tower, a first for both of you. In high school, the night you got back from the “character-building summer camp” you had been shipped off to and you shared your other first. When you were first together, it didn’t even hurt, but just felt like fucking finally. 
He remembers it all, taking all of his strength to keep it stuffed under the surface. The coke, the violence, the drama he creates in his wake cover you up nicely, until those nights when he’s dead asleep and there you are again, leaving. When he wakes, it all comes back to him. How he sat on the curb and watched you go, bloody and hurt from the night that was your final straw. How he showed up on your doorstep the next day, like he was five-years-old again asking if you could come outside and play. How your mother told him you were gone and wouldn’t tell him where you went.
“Honey,” she said with something like pity in her voice, “Promise me, you’ll let her go, let her be happy.”
A promise he kept, until the day you rolled back into town with no warning. Your timing could not have been worse. After the summer from hell, the summer that made him a killer, he finally felt like he was in control. It wasn’t until he saw you, the only person in the world that ever really knew him, that he realized he had no idea who he was. 
Chapter One
You clutched your phone tight, reading and rereading the message. One you used to get nearly every night but hadn’t seen in two long years.
party at cameron’s tonite !!
It was a group text, sent by the girl from your high school you bumped into in the grocery store earlier that day. You had been back on the island for all of an hour before inevitably seeing someone you knew. You tried to duck quickly into the cereal aisle, but she caught your eye before you could disappear, an action you were infamous for.
“Omg, we need to hang out soon!” She had said, before handing you her phone to put your new number in.
You smiled your fakest smile and said, “it’s a must!” You didn’t think either of you really meant it, but apparently she had.
There were eleven or twelve other numbers in the group text, none you had saved, but you assumed they were likely other people from your high school. She probably just added anyone in her contacts she could think of, not even stopping to realize she was inviting the Kook prince’s former princess to his party. Your relationship had been the stuff of legend on this island. Everyone had an opinion, you were practically a celebrity couple, and it was the biggest news on the island for months when you left, suddenly disappearing overnight. Some real shit must’ve gone down around here since then to make it such old news that this girl didn’t even think about it when adding you to this text.
Your heart pounding in your ears, you couldn’t believe it when you felt yourself typing out i’ll be there :) 
You wore your hair down, the way you always used to have it in high school. After you left, you had cut it short, wanting to shed away as much of your old life as you could, but in the last few months you’d started to let it grow back. Now it flowed down to the middle of your back, tickling the skin of your shoulders where the thin spaghetti straps of the little dress you had on left them exposed. You let the front pieces fall around your face, a sort of curtain to keep an extra layer between you and the other partygoers.
You could not believe you were here. For real this time, not in a dream as you had been every night for two years, but really here. 
As you walked down the gravel path, it all came rushing back. The smell of Rose’s garden, the distant sound of the ocean lapping against the shore, the low thud of the music echoing through the crisp evening air. How many times have you walked down this path? How many nights had you spent here, your senses filled with the glory of Tannyhill, the glory of him? And yet now it felt so heavy, the sights, sounds, smells of it all were nearly choking you. Tears welled in your eyes, but something kept your feet walking towards those grand front doors, towards him.
Four years earlier…
The glass panes of the front door are slightly blurred, only revealing the soft lighting of the grand entryway on the other side. You had crossed this threshold at least a thousand times in the ten years since your family moved to this island. Knocking felt strange, you felt so small standing here in the porch light, surrounded by moths and the thick coastal August air. An envelope, wrinkled from being opened and rifled through so many times, was clutched between your clammy hands.
A figure you couldn’t quite make out approached the door, and your heart pounded in your ears as you hoped desperately it would be him who opened the door. But it wasn’t.
“Oh, hey - I- hi, Mr. Cameron,” you stammered, ever intimidated by the island’s most powerful man.
“Y/N,” Ward nodded cordially. “It’s after 10pm.”
You smiled weakly, if you felt small before, you feel positively infantile now.
“I was just hoping I could see Rafe for like, just a second,” you pleaded, putting on your sweetest smile.
“He’s studying,” Ward said. “You can come back tomorrow. Goodnight.”
Before you could protest, the door was closed and the blurred figure retreated into the house.
Never one to give up, you stuffed the letter into the back pocket of your jeans, and stepped back from the porch, sizing up the massive house to see which rooms still had lights on. You knew the blueprint of this place by heart, checking off each family member mentally as you scanned their window for signs of life. Wheezie’s room? Dark. Sarah’s room? Dark. Rose and Ward’s room? Still lit. This would have to be a stealth mission. 
You snuck around the side of the house and looked up at the last window on your list. To your excitement, the room was still lit. You saw a long shadow pass by the curtains, and you actually jumped a little from the thrill. After spending the longest summer of your life apart from the one person you wanted to spend it with, he was actually right there, just two stories off the ground.
You traveled 800 miles today, what was a few more feet? Blocking out the better judgment ringing in the back of your mind, you picked up a few pebbles from the rocky path that leads to the backyard, and started climbing the big tree that grew right up past Rafe’s balcony. How you were gonna get from the tree to the balcony? That was five-minutes-from-now-you’s problem. You chuckled to yourself as your body naturally found each branch and knot on the tree. You used to have competitions when you were kids to see who could climb this tree the fastest, and you beat Rafe everytime. You remembered the shocked look on his face the first time he saw you scurry up the tree, you were hoping for a similar level of approving surprise once you got where you were going.
Once you reached the branch directly across from Rafe’s balcony, you pulled one of the pebbles from your pocket and chucked it at his window as hard as you could. 
“Shit,” you whisper-yelled as the throw fell short and the pebble dropped, loudly knocking into the first floor window below. You couldn’t afford another noise-causing miss, so you recalculated the throw and bit your lip as you lobbed the next pebble hard. It smacked into Rafe’s window with a loud TINK and you smiled in satisfaction. You waited a moment, then two, and still nothing. The shadowy figure did not return to the curtain. You only had one pebble left, and you had never been good at climbing back down this tree. Remembering the time you fell out of it onto the waiting Rafe below, and you both ended up needing stitches, your stomach twisted in fear. You took in a deep breath and held it, letting the last pebble fly. Another sharp TINK, and a moment of baited breath later, the tall shadow finally returned to the window.
Rafe opened the curtains harshly and you immediately broke into a wild smile. He looked so cute in his fitted gray t-shirt and plaid pajama pants, his normally gelled back her falling in messy pieces around his face. You held back a giggle, delighted by the completely confused look on his face as he searched out the window for the cause of the sound. He lifted the window open and examined the two pebbles that had fallen on the windowsill. 
You took the opportunity to whisper a loud “psssst.” His face shot up in surprise and his eyes finally found you in the tree, just a few feet off of the balcony. Where you expected to see surprised delight on his face, you instead caught something cold and irritated.
“Y/N,” he whisper-called to you. “What are you doing?”
“I just got back, I wanted to see you!” You called to him, hoping his apparent anger was just in response to his own shock.
“I’m busy.” Rafe went to close the window and you felt your moment of opportunity slip away.
“Wait!” you stopped him. “Please don’t make me climb down. We both know it won’t end well.” You smiled a sweetly shy smile you hoped would melt his icy demeanor a bit.  
He sighed and looked at you annoyed for a moment before climbing out the window, his height requiring him to duck low in order to make it through. He had grown even taller over the summer, he must have hit 6 foot by now, maybe more. Your stomach flipped as you watched his athletic frame emerge from his bedroom, now able to see how defined his arms looked in the moonlight. You’d always thought he was a cute boy, but the way he looked right now lit a fire in your belly. Then you realized what it was - while you were gone, the cute boy-next-door had become a man.
“Just reach over,” he directed you.
“I don’t think I can without falling,” you explained. “I think I’m gonna have to jump.”
“Are you stupid?” He scoffed humorlessly.
Your heart sank, the boy you left behind three months ago never would have called you stupid.
“It’ll be fine, you just have to catch me,” you explained.
He rolled his eyes and opened his arms, reaching them over the bannister of the balcony, “fine.”
The brief moment of joy you got from his submission faded fast as you made the mistake of looking down at the gap between the tree and the balcony.
“Actually…” you said, bravery fading.
“What, are you scared?” Rafe taunted.
“No!” you insisted. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling like the two of you were ten again and he was daring you to jump off the trampoline into the pool in your backyard.
Now or never. With a deep breath and a sharp yelp, you threw yourself out of the tree and towards his waiting arms on the balcony. As promised, he caught you, and pulled you quickly over the bannister. His arms wrapped around your waist, yours around his shoulders, he held you there just a few inches off the ground.
You flattened your hands against the taut muscles of his shoulders, delighting in the strong warmth of them. But before you could fully revel in the feeling of being in his arms, he released his grip on your waist and you dropped the final few inches to the ground. Rafe quickly stepped back, breaking the lock your arms had around his neck. Despite the southern summer heat, the air between you suddenly felt ice cold.
“Rafe,” you whispered, stepping towards him, but he only pulled further away.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said without even looking at you.
Rafe started back towards his window, and something gave you the feeling he was not going to invite you to follow him through it.
“I need to talk to you,” you started to explain.
Rafe whipped around to face you, the way he towered over you at his new height sending goosebumps down your spine.
“Why don’t you go talk to your new boyfriend instead?” He snapped.
You were so stunned that you let out a little laugh, which only made his furrowed brow scrunch even more in anger.
“What are you talking about?” You asked.
“I saw the pictures your camp was posting on their website all summer. I saw you wrapped around that douchebag.”
It took a moment of confused silence for you to realize what he was talking about, when it finally dawned on you, you laughed again. He turned from you and started heading towards the window again, but you caught his arm, your hand not able to fit even halfway around it.
“No, Rafe,” you explained, “That was just Andy, one of the other campers. We were doing a trust fall exercise. He dropped me like two seconds after that!”
Despite himself, Rafe turned to look at you, eyes examining you nervously. 
“Are you ok?” He asked in a small voice, wishing desperately that he didn’t care.
You smiled softly, there he was - your boy. 
“I’m fine,” you assured him, showing him the small scar on your wrist. “Just a little scrape.”
A moment passed, he avoided your eyes but allowed you to step closer, your hand sliding down his arm and slipping into his, his fingers reluctantly intertwining with yours. You knew exactly what words he was struggling to find, but decided to let him get there on his own.
Finally, “Why didn’t you answer my letters?”
Your other hand reached into your back pocket and pulled out the envelope you had tucked away. You held it out to him wordlessly. He took the letter and held it to the light coming from his room, examining it with a confused look. The envelope was addressed to him at Tannyhill, from you at camp. When he finally noticed the “return to sender” label, it all clicked.
“They kept getting returned to me, I don’t know why,” you said as you squeezed his hand. “I asked to use my phone to let you know but they wouldn’t let me. I almost just snuck out of camp and came home so I could explain it to you.”
“Your mom would’ve been so mad,” he said, finally, finally smiling at you.
“Then she would’ve just taken away my phone and we’d be back where we started,” You said. “There’s like twenty more letters like that. I don’t know why they never made it to you, it’s like someone was sabotaging me.”
Rafe seemed satisfied with your explanation and the remaining bit of anger on his face melted away completely. He stuffed the letter in his pocket and suddenly threw his arms around you, lifting you in the air as you yelped in surprise, giggling as he started planting sloppy kisses all over your face and neck.
“Shhh, baby, my parents will hear you,” he whispered. “They’ve got me locked in my tower because I failed my last quiz in this fucking summer school pre-calc class.”
“Rafe!” you said in mock-scandal. “Naughty language!”
“Oh, baby, I can say way naughtier things than that,” he growled in your ear, your cheeks now burning from real-scandal.
“C’mon,” he said, setting you down and grabbing your hand, to lead you to his still-open window. 
He placed his large hand on the small of your back as he helped you through the window, climbing in after you and closing it slowly so as to not make a sound.
You and Rafe had done some more-than-kissing things before, but that was the night you gave yourselves to each other completely. He held you after, softly kissing the scar on your arm from when Andy had dropped you.
“Never gonna let that Andy asshole touch you again,” he said between kisses. “He can find his own girl, you’re mine.”
You giggled and he looked up at you in confusion.
“Rafe,” you were laughing hard now. “Andy’s gay.”
He broke into a bashful grin, a quick blush of embarrassment swept across his cheeks before he grew serious again and started kissing up your arm.
“I don’t care,” he said. “They should all know - all the Andys and Jakes and Chads and whoeverthefucks,” his kisses had reached your neck, “no guy is ever gonna get to touch you like me.” He pulled back and looked into your eyes with a sincerity that squeezed your heart. “Gonna love you forever. Gonna marry you, make you a mom. Never gonna spend three months, or even three fucking days away from you again. That what you want?”
“Yes,” you breathed, meaning it with your whole being.
“Good.”
Now…
The memories flooded your brain as you opened the door and stepped into the home you used to think would be yours someday. The party was swelling, the vibe feeling so familiar and so uncomfortable at the same time.
You made your way straight to the kitchen, desperately needing a drink. Every step you took sent a memory flashing through your thoughts like a shock to your brain. You passed the living room and saw movie-nights-turned-make-out-sessions on the couch, playing mario kart with Sarah and Wheezie while Rafe laughed at your hyper-competitiveness, prom pictures in front of the fireplace. You passed the dining room and saw the first family dinner you were invited to, how you made Ward laugh with a story about fishing your own dad used to tell, how Rafe squeezed your thigh under the table in pride. You entered the kitchen and saw the time you and Rafe set off the smoke alarm trying to make pancakes, the time he lifted you onto the counter and went down on you when his family was out of town. And then, standing by the keg, you saw the girl who invited you, clearly plastered already.
“Omg!” She yelled when she saw you.
Everyone else in the large kitchen turned and looked at you. It felt dramatic, but you could swear the whole room fell silent when they saw you, a comical record scratch playing in your head.
The girl who invited you ran over to you, beer sloshing over the side of her solo cup and onto her shirt. 
“I can not believe you came,” she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “I completely forgot when I invited you, about, you know, you and-”
“Can I get one of those?” you cut her off quickly, gesturing towards her drink.
Before she could answer, a loud crash came from outside the kitchen’s open french doors. The heads that had all been watching you suddenly snapped toward the sound towards the crowded back yard. When the loud bellow of a man’s voice rang out, the people in the kitchen all ran towards the unfolding scene. You pushed through the crowd and out the doors, drawn inexplicably to the voice. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realized why - it was Rafe.
There in the backyard, packed with drunk people and lit by string lights, Rafe stood with his fist clenched in the collar of some guy’s white button up, forcefully pulling the scared looking dude toward him while he yelled.
“I said none of that fucking cheap shit,” Rafe yelled at the guy you now realized was a cater-waiter. 
“I’m sorry sir, I-” Rafe threw the man down and he fell back in the dirt.
“This isn’t some ghetto block party out in The Cut,” Rafe yelled. “Do you know who’s fucking house you’re at right now?”
The crowd around you watched, most smiling in support of the man they looked at like he was a rockstar. You cringed at the looks of admiration in their eyes and took Rafe in with your own.
He looked different, harder. His floppy blond locks had been shaved off, and he had traded old t-shirts and jeans for slacks and a polo. He was as tall and built as you remembered, but instead of it being endearing, it was just scary as he looked down at the poor server like he was gonna kill him.
Then he spat on him. He actually spat on another human being. It disgusted you in more ways than one, and you felt your heart breaking in your chest as you realized you had no idea who this man was. The boy who held you on that night four years ago and promised to be yours forever clearly didn’t live here anymore. You turned quickly and pushed back through the crowd, unable to watch another second of this sickening display of toxic masculinity.
Rafe glared down at the pogue-scum in the dirt below him, an eerily familiar feeling washed over him as something moved quickly in the corner of his eye. He turned at just the right moment to see a whip of long hair disappear through the crowd.  But it wasn’t. It couldn’t possibly be. Surely, it was not you.
(chapter 2)
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a/n: Hiiii this is the first fic I've posted in about 10 years!! Hope you enjoyed, forgive me if I'm rusty! More chapters to come :)
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flemingology · 3 months ago
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kitbag chronicles ─ alessia russo x reader
in which: you voice your love for alessia through the notes you put in her kitbag
warnings: none, tiniest bit suggestive if you squint
wc: 1.4k
a/n: finally got around to writing something for my number 1. this is so incredibly random and it's all over the place, but idk i lowkey kinda like it... i think? idk i probably shouldn't reread it because i might hate it if i do. hope you enjoy!
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Ever since you and Alessia started dating, the England striker had made it very clear that she loved the little things you did for her. Memorising her coffee order, remembering her favourite flowers, new scented candles in her favourite scent on a bi-weekly basis. If you asked Alessia, she would say you were the most thoughtful person she’d ever met.
You’d grown to love the smile you put on your girlfriend’s face with those small displays of affection. You were forever seeking new ways to show your love for her, without stating the obvious over and over again. It kept both of you on your toes, always working on your relationship and making the other fall in love with you over and over again.
The last couple weeks, you'd found something new to do for Alessia. Her busy schedule keeping her away from you almost every single day of the week, you had to find ways to work around it and to remind Alessia that, even when she was at the club, you were thinking about her.
Since a couple months, it had become a little tradition that you prepared Alessia's kitbag. It wasn't much work at all, all she put in there were a shirt and a pair of trousers, or shorts – based on what the weather was like that day in London. You insisted that you did it for her, claiming that that way you felt like she had a little part of you with her during the day.
Today, though, you felt like trying something different. When you were younger, your mum always prepared your lunchbox for when you went to school. To make it a little extra special, she always added a little note for you to discover when you had lunch. It could be something funny, a drawing or simply a reminder how much she loved you – you didn't mind the teasing that came with it from your friends.
You figured it would be something Alessia loved, seen how much she usually liked it when you did little things like that for her. So this morning, after putting the blonde's training top and trousers in her kitbag, you grabbed a note and started writing something down. You decided to keep it simple for your first time of doing this, something you knew would just give Alessia a little spring in her step for the rest of the day. "Go get em, Lessi. Can't wait to have you home with me again tonight," is what you decided on, quickly putting away the pen and putting the piece of paper in her bag before she could see what you were up to.
When Alessia left later that morning, you pushed her kitbag in her hands, as you did every day. With a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips and a quick hug, she was out the door with the promise of cooking together later that night. Love goes through the stomach, or whatever they say.
It was no longer than 30 minutes later when your phone chimed with a message from your blonde lover.
From: Less 🤍 I got the note, baby. So cute. I love you so much :')
You smiled brightly at your phone screen, a warm, fuzzy feeling coursing through you at the idea of Alessia opening her kitbag and finding the note. You quickly typed a message back to her, wanting her to read it before she inevitably had to get her day going at the training centre.
To: Less 🤍 It's true, though. Counting down the hours until you're home, like every day. Go kick ass, my love. x
With you working from home, it had been quite the adjustment. Normally, when Alessia went to the training centre, you'd also leave the apartment and be on your way to your office. But with Alessia's recent transfer to Arsenal, swapping Manchester for London, it wasn't so straightforward anymore for you to go into the office everyday. 2 hours 30 on the train or easily 4 hours by car, it just wasn't doable anymore for a daily job. So you and your boss agreed that you could work from home in London, with one visit to the office a month. You were forever grateful for the opportunity, very glad that you didn't have to find a new job in London, but it brought its hardships too.
Quite frankly, you grew quite bored at home. You had your work, and you always managed to fill the best part of 8 hours with whatever you had to do that day, but the house felt empty without Alessia. A new city, new surroundings, new apartment, you hadn't quite accustomed to it all yet and you hadn't failed to make it known to Alessia that you missed her terribly whenever she was out at training.
Nonetheless, you would never stand in the way between her and her career, it was just another obstacle that you two would have to face and manoeuvre around, but you were certain that you would navigate it perfectly. You had a strong relationship, and everyone around you would probably say that you were made for each other.
With the knowledge gathered that Alessia enjoyed her little note, you took it upon yourself to give her some more frequently. Not every day, because you didn't want her to grow old of them, but you sprinkled some in throughout the week – keeping her on her toes.
It wasn't until one particular morning at the Arsenal training centre that Alessia realized that her notes wouldn't just always be you loving up on her. She'd left you high and dry that morning before leaving, feeling you up and kissing all over your body until her alarm went off. She was reluctant about finishing what she had started, despite your whining when she left you alone in bed and had started getting ready for her day. She didn't want to be late, understandably, but she also left you with a very uncomfortable throbbing between your legs. Her promise of continuing her ministrations later that night hadn't really convinced you, and you decided to tease her a little about it through a note.
This time, unlike all the other times you'd left a note in Alessia's kitbag, you didn't receive a message about. Not just that, the Arsenal striker hadn't texted you all day and you couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about what you did. You didn't want to push it too far, but you were starting to feel like you did. You texted her a little after lunch-time, wishing her a good gym session, but you got left on read.
Later that day, when Alessia came home, you were nervous to approach her. You were upstairs, finishing up on a couple of e-mails, before you went downstairs and joined the blonde who had plopped down on the couch and turned on the football. "Hi, baby," you said softly, pressing a kiss against her cheek. Alessia tried to put on a sour face, but her resolve weakened quickly when you pressed another few kisses all over her face.
"That was mean, you know?" cocking her head at you, eyebrow raised and index finger pointing at you. You couldn't hide the smile that crept on your face. "Don't give me that, Russo! If anyone was mean, it was you. This morning. Leaving me all worked up like that," you reasoned, pointing your index finger right back at her, poking her nose in the process causing a small smile to form on her lips.
"You know what, you're probably right," your girlfriend started, leaning closer towards you and trapping your body in between her arms, positioning the two of you so she was hovering over you on the couch. "That was so incredibly unfair of me and I think it's only right that I get the opportunity to make it up to you."
Alessia dipped her head towards your neck and started pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You hummed and tangled one of your hands into her hair, slightly tugging when you could feel the scrape of her teeth on your sensitive skin. "You're lucky I love you, Russo," you breathed.
"Oh, I know. Now let me show you just how much I appreciate you, please."
441 notes · View notes
simpingsavant · 1 year ago
Text
Late Night
Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader
Summary: You are the person always working when Spencer stops by to get his fix of Mountain Dew Kickstart.
Genre/Warnings: Fluff, slow-burn. A gross man flirts w you for plot purposes. Promise it's very non-major but just in case.
Word Count: 6.4k
A/N: First time posting for smosh, but not the first time posting fanfic. I made a whole side blog for this lol I'm thinking I want to post more so feel free to send me smosh requests and give lots of love so I stay motivated to write more hehe <3
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Working the graveyard shift at a 24-hour convenience store is generally not a good idea. Except this one is in a nice area of LA, you’re almost always working with someone, and it’s slow enough that you can get your grad school work done.
Four months ago, when you were first looking at the help wanted sign in the window, you decided you would give it a week to see if it was actually worth it. Now, you were contently typing away on your computer as a group of middle-aged people grabbed alcohol and snacks. They were fancily dressed but the expressions on their faces were reminiscent of college students who were partying through the night like they owned it. When they came up with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon and enough snacks to last them weeks, you happily scanned the items.
The silver fox dressed in a deep, blue suit dropped a twenty in the tip jar.
“Thank you,” You said, handing him a receipt as his cohorts grabbed the food.
The bell jingled as they left. Your coworker was in the back taking inventory. You looked down at your laptop, rereading the last couple of sentences as you found your place in the research essay you’d been taking notes from.
You loved your job. You worked from 11 pm to 8 am and although it took you time to adjust to a new sleep schedule, it was worth it. You were paid slightly more since you were working such an atrocious shift and you never interacted with your boss. Occasionally, he would message you that he was coming in early to talk, but he often just texted about what he wanted you to get done.
Until 1 am, you were working with Michael, a young man who was in his senior year of college. At 4 am, Marie would come in, an older Latina woman who had been working this shift for over ten years now. She’d relieve you for your break and you’d come back just in time for the morning rush.
You liked the morning rush. Although you couldn’t get much homework done at the time, it was when you had your most regulars. You would see moms buying their children lunch before school, office workers buying cheap coffee, and students buying energy drinks.
Marie would man the register, and you would come to help if needed. During rests, you would be restocking shelves or cleaning.
From 1 am to 4 am, you would usually see only a few faces. You would see students who stay up extremely late or workers having to go in much too early. Since it was a nice neighborhood, they were all pleasant people and you never worried about your own safety or well-being. 
Only one regular came in consistently during these hours. He looked to be about your age with chocolate hair that curled at the nape of his neck. He came in just after 1 am and always sported dark eye circles. He purchased anywhere from 4 to 8 cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and occasionally a bag of chips. 
Sometimes, you’d see him in the morning again before you were off. He’d buy a cheap coffee and some fruit.
For the first month, you were too concerned with doing your job well to start any conversations besides pleasantries. He was, however, the first customer you recognized as a regular. You couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would need so many energy drinks. In particular, why in God's name did he love Mountain Dew Kickstart?
Maybe you were so intrigued because he caught your eye from day one. He was dressed in combat boots and a worn jacket. You soon learned those two items were part of his daily attire. You liked the way his hair looked or the way his downturned eyes crinkled as he smiled.
In your second month of working there, you spent way too much time trying to think of a way to start a conversation.
So far, you only got:
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How’s your night going?”
“Good, and you?”
“Fine. Do you want a bag?”
“No, I have my backpack.”
“Okay. Your total is $12.53, go ahead and swipe, insert, or tap your card. Would you like your receipt?”
Sometimes he said yes, sometimes he said no. A few times, your hands would brush. He was always so warm, your cold hands lingering as he bashfully smiled and looked away.
“Have a good one.”
“You too.”
His hair was getting longer and you thought it suited him well. You wanted nothing more than a reason to hold a genuine conversation with him.
During your third month, that reason finally came.
He walked in, luscious locks replaced with a buzz cut and you couldn’t help but go “Oh wow.”
“Is it that bad?” He joked, rubbing the top of his head.
“No, no,” You immediately said, hands moving rapidly. “It just surprised me.” A beat of silence followed before you added, “You pull it off.” He really did, but you also took that as a sign you liked him a little too much. You felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Thanks, it was for work,” He adds, voice monotone despite the little grin he sported at your compliment. He walks farther into the store, toward the opposite wall with the display of drinks.
“For work? Are you joining the army?” You question, stumbling over your words slightly as you realize that it’s finally happening—you are finally holding a conversation with him.
“No,” He laughs. “I work for this online entertainment company.” He fills his arms with five cans. “It was for a special.”
“Oh,” You reply, rolling on the balls of your feet as you try to think of ways to keep the conversation going. “Are you an actor?”
“More behind the scenes,” He replies, coming up to the counter and placing his drinks down. He grabs a bag of chips from the front display.
“That’s cool,” You say, picking up the first can as you begin scanning.
He shrugs, “I’m sure half the city does stuff online.”
“I doubt that,” You scoff. “Maybe half does entertainment, but definitely not exclusively online content.” Feeling a little bad for shutting him down, you look up at him for a moment, expecting to see disappointment or annoyance.
Instead, he’s smiling. It’s not a large smile, but it quells your anxiety.
“You’re probably right,” He answers, fishing out his card.
“I usually am,” You joke, giving him a quick look before clicking away on your screen. “Your total is $10.54.”
He lets out a short laugh that makes your insides flip with satisfaction. “I’m Spencer by the way,” He offers, putting away his card after the reader beeps.
“Y/N,” You say, tapping your name tag. “Do you want your receipt, Spencer?”
“Sure, Y/N,” He answers, putting his drinks into his backpack.
You rip it from the printer and hold it out. The way he said your name makes you shiver. He takes the receipt and bids you farewell.
You see him in the morning and you’re eighty percent sure he times it to check out with you instead of Marie. Today he opted for an iced coffee with lots of cream and a plastic container of chopped mango.
“Good morning, Spencer. How’d you sleep?”
“Good, but not long enough. What about you?”
You see a flash of realization on his face as soon as he says it, but you’re speaking before he can correct himself.
“Haven’t slept yet, but I get off in ten minutes and will be able to sleep till five today so that’s nice.”
“What’s at five?”
“Class. They’re in the evening since so many grad students work day jobs.” You tap away on the screen. “Would you like your receipt?”
“Nah, just toss it.” He picks up the drink and fruit. “See ya later, Y/N.”
“See you,” You reply, crumpling the receipt and throwing it in the small trash bin under your register before waving to the next customer.
~~
Since then, Spencer has come in every night without fail and sparked a conversation with you. You learn that the company he works for is called Smosh and you think the name is vaguely familiar. He asks you what you’re studying and why you’re always on your laptop.
The next month and a half goes by quickly. You come to expect him, anticipating his nightly visits. He has recently started staying longer, leaning over the counter and smiling at you as he talks about something that happened the other day. If another person comes in, he usually takes that as his sign to leave, wishing you well and exiting before the new customer is ready to check out.
You’re unfortunately not getting as much homework done because of this, but you don’t mind one bit. You either work during your break or just take some time before class to do more. You wonder if he’s not getting as much sleep because of this, worried you’re burdening him. Despite this, you know that you’ll selfishly never be able to turn him away. Even if it is for his own benefit.
Once, he came in before Michael had left. Your conversation was curt and he left right after you gave him the receipt. Michael stared you down the whole time and Spencer was clearly thrown off by another person being there.
“Who was that?” Your coworker asked, moving toward you from his spot behind the hot food.
“Just a regular,” You answer, trying to keep your cool. You pull out a cloth and begin wiping down the counter, wanting to occupy your hands. “He usually comes later.”
“Ah,” Michael says, nodding slowly and giving you a look. “That’s it?”
“Yeah?”
“Interesting.”
The comment piques your interest and you can’t help but ask, “How so?”
Michael smirks at you, “Why do you care?”
“Bro, shut up,” You hiss, pushing him out of your face and walking over to your stash of food. Your face felt hot as you walked past, and you attempted to hide it in the collar of your shirt. It was never fun to be caught with a crush, but you wanted to know Michael’s thoughts. So far, you and Spencer always talked in privacy, with no onlookers to comment on if your feelings seemed mutual.
“Fine, fine,” He relents, holding his hands up. “It’s just that I saw him through the window before he came in and he was smiling way too big for someone coming in the pick up energy drinks.”
“You’d be surprised. He gets those every night,” You defensively argue, “He probably has a shrine at home.”
“Oh, come on,” Michael says, rolling his eyes as you pop a chip into your mouth. “That smile dropped as soon as he saw me. I bet he wishes it was just you.”
“Don’t say that stuff.”
“Why not? Don’t you like him? You definitely lit up when you saw him.”
You gawk at your coworker, absolutely astonished at how easy it was for him to notice. This was the first time anyone witnessed the two of you interact and now you were questioning every interaction. Did he like you? Or did he just like that you gave him a confidence boost because your infatuation was so obvious?
“W-what’s your major again? Investigation?” You accuse, stuttering out of pure frustration.
“Yes, actually—”
You roll your eyes, but the sound of the door brings your back to attention. You steel your expression but are grateful the conversation ended. It was a wake-up call for you and you spent the rest of your shift trying to understand your feelings more.
Could it still be called a crush? You felt like you knew so much and yet so little about him. When did you cross the line from strangers to acquaintances? How do you go from acquaintances to friends? Did you even want to be friends?
After that, Spencer always came in after Michael left, his disposition more friendly when it was just the two of you. You didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but it was hard to think about when only a counter separated the two of you and he was radiating warmth and cracking jokes.
~~
“Okay,” You hear Michael say and all of a sudden you are back to reality, no farther in your reading than you were 10 minutes ago.
The door to the back shuts and you look at your coworker with wide eyes.
“I finally finished with inventory.”
He looks down at his phone, prompting you to look at the time showing on your laptop.
12:56
“Sweet,” He says, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Need anything from me before I go?” 
“No,” You answer. “Enjoy your night.”
“Thanks, I’m gonna go grab my stuff before I clock out.”
“For sure. See you tomorrow.”
“Later,” Michael says.
He opens the door to the back and you turn to your computer. The break room was through those doors as was the back entrance which almost all employees used when coming and going.
You focused on your computer, reading the most important parts of the study and taking down notes. In the back of your mind, you knew Spencer would be arriving soon. It makes you nervous, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you await his arrival.
You have been thinking lately about how to advance your relationship. Maybe get more personal with the information or invite him to hang out outside of your job. The idea makes you queasy because you worry about ruining everything by trying to get more.
You finished the reading and moved on to another class assignment. Spencer came in soon after, his lips quirked up and no jacket on. The weather was getting warmer and it was rather dry. You could absolutely walk around with only a T-shirt and jeans on despite the time.
This, however, drew your eyes to his arms immediately. They weren’t as hairy as you were expecting, his beard and how quickly his hair grew back making you think they would be. He wasn’t very muscley in any way, but your eyes shamelessly lingered on his biceps longer than you wanted.
His skin was littered with freckles and tattoos, black ink that started at his forearm and rose past his t-shirt. You could spend hours looking at them, a couple of them immediately garnering your interest.
“Hey,” You greeted, your eyes snapping up to his face. You were pretty sure he caught you, but he thankfully said nothing. Maybe he was used to his tattoos being looked at, an easy cover considering you weren’t just looking at his tattoos.
“Hey, how’s your night?” He makes his way across the store with ease, eyes staying on you.
“Fine, it’s extra slow tonight.”
“That’s nice,” He’s speaking loud enough that you can hear him from far away. “Are you getting a lot of homework done?”
“Yeah,” You replied. “Finals are coming up and I’m working on all the trivial homework now so I can study and work on the final essays in the library.”
“Is this your final year?”
“Sort of. I’ll be getting my masters after this, but I’m on an automated track for my PhD.”
There’s silence as he grabs a final can and walks up to the front. It’s almost awkward, but you aren’t sure why. It seems like he wants to ask you something, but is struggling to say it.
You start scanning his items, letting him think instead of trying to fill the space with meaningless talk.
“Are you still working here over the summer?”
“I am,” You light up, realizing why he was nervous. It sent a spark through your body to think about him missing you.
God, you wanted him so bad.
“I’m also doing some research work for a professor though,” You add. “I’m honestly too busy to have a job and it will only get worse in the upcoming year, but I need the money and this is the best option for pay and the ability to do homework.”
“Damn,” Spencer sighs. “I’m sorry about that.”
His voice is soft and sincere. It throws you off for a moment, not used to this kind of sympathy. Your social circle consists of Michael, Marie, and other students who were also going through their own shit.
“Oh, it's nothing,” You shyly reply, eyes falling to the counter and lips forming a tight line as your mind races.
“No, seriously,” Spencer insists. “It must be so difficult and yet you never seem like you’re struggling.”
With a large breath, you finally accept his compliment. “Thank you, that’s very nice of you.” You look up to see that his gaze is already on you and you hold eye contact for an absurd amount of time. You’re sure any onlookers would consider the scene intense.
The pressure of the moment builds, compressing your lungs.
“Um, anyways, your total is $9.54,” You say, breaking the silence and eye contact.
“Oh, right.”
Spencer shoves his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet and you once again admire his arms as he’s busy.
“How was work today?” You ask, wanting to dissipate the intensity of the moment.
“Long.” He answers. “This week is a filming week so I’ve been busy as hell working behind the camera and being in a few videos too. Tomorrow is Friday though and I don’t have to be in till 11 am.”
You hum in acknowledgment, “That sucks.” 
Long ago, when curiosity finally got to you, you looked up Smosh. You realized quickly that the name was familiar because it was quite popular back in OG YouTube. You spent an hour exploring their channels before growing bored and looking up videos with Spencer specifically. It was weird and you could only watch in short increments of time before needing a break. You felt like you were violating his privacy, but struggled to stop when you realized just how funny he was, his humor translating perfectly on camera. He held your attention in so many videos, quick quips making you burst out laughing.
You also note the differences in how he talks to you and how he talks to the camera. Although quiet, he cracks jokes almost every time he speaks. His coworkers seem like friends and you’re sure that helps to comfort any nerves he would have on screen. However, they were obviously trained on-camera talent whereas he simply fell into it because of how much the audience liked him. Around you, he made jokes, but he also seemed to shed the demeanor he developed for videos. Not every sentence was about entertaining.
They were real. Real discussions with real problems no matter how mundane.
“Yeah, but at least we are getting it done. Next week is all at my computer or in meetings,” He adds, tucking away his card and putting his drinks into his backpack. “Anyways, so, when is your finals week?”
“In two weeks technically, but I have a couple of major things going on next week,” You answer, taking a seat on the stool next to you.
“Like what?” Spencer inquires, a light in his eyes that sends a shiver up your spine.
“Well, I’m taking four classes. Two of them have an exam and a final essay. One has a final essay and matching presentation, and then last is a group assignment that also has a presentation and essay.”
“Oh no, not a group assignment,” Spencer interjects, empathy on the tip of his tongue.
“I know,” You agree, nerves falling away as you ease into familiar territory. “People in masters programs are not as bad but they can still be pretty clueless and unhelpful.” You shake your head in frustration, “Like this one guy in my group, he thinks he is so edgy and smart. He takes no criticism but also doesn’t put in enough work. He’s basically made me his personal target and I literally have a group chat with two other members just to rant when he says the stupidest shit.”
“Damn, sounds like an ass.”
“He is,” You groan, closing your eyes. “But we are almost done. We have the essay due next week and then presentations during the finals period.” You grin in relief, “After that, I have two weeks of break before starting my internship with the professor.”
“Are you getting paid for that?” Spencer asks.
The conversation was flowing easily, his interest in your life more evident than ever. It isn’t lost on you that he’s exhibiting every sign of attentive listening and it makes your insides twist. He’s leaning forward, fingers tapping away on the counter as he nods periodically.
“Only in experience,” You sigh. “Money would be great, but I’d rather learn from this and not get paid than not do it at all. I only have to dedicate 12 hours a week to it anyway and that’s not much considering my usual schedule is jam-packed.”
“What’s the study about?” He asks, holding your gaze more often than usual. You find it hard to reciprocate, too nervous to engage in whatever he is doing. You aren’t sure if you could call it flirting because he definitely wasn’t complimenting you, but he was acting differently enough that it was noticeable.
Before you can answer, a customer walks in, the bell ringing in your ears as you look at the brunette in front of you. You expect him to leave like every time before, but he doesn’t move. Although thrown off slightly, you recover quickly and answer his question. When the customer is ready to check out, Spencer simply steps to the side but lingers near. As soon as the man leaves, Spencer is right back where he was and asking you another question that keeps you talking.
He leaves twenty minutes later, eyes half-lidded and tired. You don’t see him that morning, likely because he doesn’t have to go into the office as early as usual. Despite logic, you still miss him.
~~
When Spencer comes in that night, he’s later than usual. Not by much, it’s not even 2 am when he walks through the door. And yet, he’s apologetic.
“Hey, sorry,” He mumbles, coming right up to the counter.
Taken aback, your hands slip from your keyboard and you stand up straight. Fridays were always the busiest weekday and although you did wonder where Spencer was, you didn’t have much time to think about it.
“I was playing a game and totally lost track of time,” He continued, a touch more out of breath than usual. He runs a hand through his short, recently bleached hair.
“No worries,” You say, not quite sure why he’s apologizing. It’s not like you had a set time to hang out or do something together. “Need to come get a drink so you can keep going?” You ask, trying to dissipate the awkward feeling that was bubbling up. You didn’t want to let yourself assume more than was reality.
“No, no, I mean,” He stumbles, “I probably will go back to playing, I just—never mind.” He looks down, staring at the counter, specifically the display of scratchers in the built-in glass case.
God, this felt so weird. You shouldn’t have said that, maybe he actually wanted to see you but then you ruined it by making it about the drinks and not you.
“So, what game were you playing?” You ask, the air feeling stuffy.
After a relieved sigh, Spencer goes into the details. You listen intently because not only is he a good storyteller, but you also genuinely care about his interests.
As he rants about some game mechanic, your mind begins to wander. More precisely, you wonder if your affection for him is obvious. Even from the short interaction you had in front of Michael, he could tell there was something more going on. To a stranger would it be obvious? To your friends would it be obvious? Would they say you two would make a cute couple? Or would they not see the chemistry?
“Oh, that’s frustrating,” You say, picking up on the pause in his monologue.
“Eh,” He shrugs, “It’s life.” He leans over the counter, shoulders more relaxed than when he first entered. “I needed a break anyway. So, how’s your night been?”
“Well,” You begin. “I felt rather lost without you.” Sarcasm is dripping off your tongue and Spencer immediately smiles. “My internal clock is all screwed up.”
“You poor thing,” He says, playing along.
“You, sir, need to take your responsibility more seriously,” You laugh, sitting back down in your chair and leaning over to grab your water. “More than half an hour late, I’m sure your body is screaming for a Mountain Dew.”
“Not just a Mountain Dew,” He protests, “A Mountain Dew Kickstart.”
You giggle, just about to add something before the bell rings and your eyes immediately shift to the front door. The patron, dressed in black jeans, a blue hoodie, and a leather jacket, comes up to you immediately. In the fifteen-foot walk between you and the door, you notice he is at least twenty years older than you, skin wrinkling and sagging with age. His clothes are worn, fraying at the seams. When he pushes forward, Spencer immediately slinks away, stepping over to look at the opposite wall of food. The stranger places his hands on the counter and you see dirt under his nails.
When he speaks, his voice is hoarse.
“Two packs of the Marlboro Red,” He commands, his eyes dragging up and down your body. Just as you turn to grab the cigarettes, you can see a smirk forming on his lips.
You sigh, taking a moment to harden your exterior before turning around to scan the packs. These kinds of customers were uncommon for the area, but still came in enough for you to pick them out of a crowd immediately. Usually, they leave easily enough.
“Anything else?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile.
“Two of those beef taquitos, hun,” He says, a dirty finger pressing against the warm glass.
You feel a wave of cold at the name but move aside to grab the hot food without any fuss. The sooner he leaves the better. When you hand them over to him, he purposefully moves his hand far enough forward that it touches yours. You are vaguely aware of Spencer in the background, but force your eyes off him.
You can deal with this on your own just fine.
The stranger's eyes linger on your hand and you snatch it away, typing on the tablet to add the taquitos to his total.
“Anything else?” You echo, voice more curt than before.
“Hmm,” He hums contemplatively, putting his finger to his chin like he’s performing. “I suppose I’ll take your number too.”
You fake a laugh, looking into his eyes for only a moment before going back to your screen. “Although I’m flattered, I don’t give my number to strangers.” A few more taps to the device, “Your total is $22.37.”
“Well,” He leans forward and reads off your name from the tag. It sounds sickly coming from his lips. “My name is Mark. Give me your number and then we won’t be strangers.” He pulls out his card to pay, shoving the cigarettes into his pockets.
You give him a forced smile, resting your hand on your heart while you try to let him down gently. “Nice to meet you, Mark, but still. I am not interested.”
“Why?” He questions, “You got a boyfriend?”
You debate telling him you’re in a relationship. Maybe it will get him to leave, maybe he’ll just suggest you cheat. It’s always difficult to tell.
“Dude,” You hear a voice speak up. “You’re holding up the line.”
Mark turns around to see Spencer a few feet behind. You have to crane your neck to see him, the brunette lining up down an aisle. He’s holding some random items, clearly having wandered around the store, paying attention but trying to look like he was merely shopping.
Just before Mark can say anything, Spencer is pushing forward and shouldering past. “Just take the L and move on,” He deadpans, his voice low and foreboding. He stares down the stranger, putting his items onto the counter without even looking away. He’s half a head shorter than the guy, but his presence alone makes up for that tenfold.
“Here’s your receipt,” You quietly interject, holding it out. Half of you was thankful for the interruption, but the other half of you was annoyed. Despite that, you choose to use this opportunity to end the conversation.
With a huff, Mark snatches the receipt from your hand.
“Whatever,” He mumbles to himself, “Bitch.”
The bell dings as he exits, leaving you and Spencer in a loud silence. You let out a shaky breath.
“Oh my god,” Spencer begins. His words draw your gaze away from the door and to him. You can see the concern on his face and the disgust in his eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” You have a moment to say before he’s talking again.
“What an ass. Do you not have a panic button?”
“I do,” You answer, “But that’s for robberies.”
“Or this!” He protests, gesturing at the door where the man had exited. “You need to stay safe.”
“I was staying safe,” You defend.
“I can’t believe they have you alone at this time of night,” Spencer continues, seemingly not registering your words. “Like, anyone can just come in here!”
“Spencer,” You say, trying to grab his attention.
“You should never have to deal with that kind of–”
“Spencer,” You repeat, finally getting him to shut up.
“What?”
“It’s fine, I can deal with this on my own. You didn’t need to help,” You explain, wishing the moment would simply pass so you could move on.
“Just because you can deal with it on your own doesn’t mean you have to,” He argues, his voice softer than before.
His words leave you at a loss, unsure how to respond. He breaks the silence before you can.
“How often does this happen?”
“Not often,” You say, struggling to make any eye contact. “This is a nice area and usually they just give up after a couple of tries.”
Spencer sighs, running a hand through his hair with an exasperated expression. “Sorry,” He mumbles, the word being pulled from him. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” You can see the regret in his eyes. “I got so heated and I should have just made sure you were okay.”
“Oh,” You say, “Thanks.” His apology was unexpected but very appreciated. “I am fine.”
Spencer nods, the moment feeling slightly awkward as the resolution comes. “When does the next person get here?” He asks.
“Four,” You answer, taking a chance to grab your phone and check the time.
2:21
“Damn, that’s a long time.”
“It’s whatever,” You shrug. “It goes pretty quickly since I’m basically just talking to you and then doing homework.”
When the words register for him, there’s a glint in his eyes and a small smile forming on his face. “That’s good,” He replies. There’s a pause before he speaks again, “But damn, that’s like an hour and a half away.”
“Yeah,” You sigh, resting back on your stool.
“Can I stay?” He asks, surprising you. “For peace of mine, I mean. I’m just thinking about me leaving and that guy coming right back in. I don’t know, it’s dumb, but I just can’t imagine leaving you right now.”
“Sure,” You reply, interrupting his word vomit once you’ve regained your barrings.
“Really?”
“Yeah,” You shrug, a closed-lip grin forming. “I would love for you to keep me company.”
“Cool,” He says, a smile forming for him.
The moment is awkward and foreign. From an outside perspective, you probably both look like grinning idiots.
“Well,” Spencer begins, breaking the silence, “I’m definitely going to need an energy drink to stay awake.” He looks down at the pile of snacks he brought up. “You keep working, I’m gonna put these away and come back up with stuff I actually want to buy.”
“Roger that,” You reply, giving him a look before turning back to your computer. You don’t get much work done as you wait for him to come back up. You can’t see him in the aisles, but as he moves between aisles, he always looks at you. The security camera screen is just to your right and you can’t help but watch him as he puts away the random collection of items.
You’re nervous, too distracted by his presence to focus on anything. You were somewhat excited to spend such a prolonged period of time with him. However, you were also absolutely terrified that you would make a fool of yourself or simply seem too boring.
“Okay,” You hear him say, already aware that he was making his way back to the front. “All done.” He is now holding three cans of Mountain Dew Kickstart and a chocolatey protein bar. “Can I also get a couple of taquitos?”
“What kind?” You ask, reaching forward to start scanning his items.
“Your pick, I guess."
You smile at him and see he’s already grinning at you. You can’t help it, everything he does seems to make you happy beyond logic. “I’ll give you one chicken and one fiesta. The beef is fine and the cheese is not good.”
“Sounds like a plan,” He laughs, pulling out his card to pay and then opening a can and taking a big swig.
“Did that guy getting some make you crave them?” You ask, a joking glint in your eyes as you look up at him.
“Am I a misogynist if I say yes?” He replies, making you let out a laugh that was just a little too loud.
When you hand him the taquitos, he leans back onto the counter, head turned so you can see his side profile. He has the drink in one hand and the paper bag of taquitos in another. He takes a bite, a comfortable silence falling over you both. You occupy your time by looking down at your computer and mindlessly clicking around while you try to think of things to talk about. 
“How was work?” You say, deciding on that as the least risky option.
“Good,” He shrugs. “We finished a little late and traffic meant I didn’t get home till almost 7 pm.”
“Oh jeez,” You groan. “My commute is pretty easy in the morning because I go opposite the traffic.”
“I’m jealous,” He replies, smiling at you. “Do you live far from here?”
A shock of electricity shoots through your body. “Somewhat. This isn’t my local convenience store, but I’m not that far.”
Spencer nods, “This isn’t mine either.”
“What?”
He turns to look at you, eyebrows perked up like he didn’t just say something ridiculous.
“This isn’t your nearest convenience store,” You repeat slowly. When he nods, you ask, “So why do you come here?”
Spencer laughs, realizing his mistake. “The one nearest me is literally down the street, but they don’t always have these,” He answers, holding up the pineapple orange mango-flavored drink. “This store is only a few more minutes away and it always has them.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s because you buy our stock,” You joke. “I’ve literally had my boss ask about why we are selling so many more.”
“Really?” He gasps, leaning in closer. “I used to only make the walk here if the closer one was out, but four months ago I just stopped bothering.”
The fact that four months is when you started working is not lost on you. Feeling confident, you add, “What about when you get coffee? I’m sure the other one has coffee.”
“True.” He looks slightly caught off guard, eyes scanning the store before speaking, “I only come to get coffee here if I’m too lazy to make it at home and running early enough to…” He pauses for a second, the sentence closing as if it wasn’t the planned ending. Finally, he adds, “To see you.”
You hum, looking down because your face is warm and you’re at a loss for words. Luckily, he’s too nervous to look at you either. You feel tingly, knowing full well that this is a special moment that you’ll look back on if you end up dating.
“Anyways,” Spencer breaks the silence. Before he can say anything else, he yawns, mouth opening wide.
“You know you can go home, right?” You laugh. When you look down at your computer, you see it’s about half an hour later. “No one has come in and I doubt anyone will before Marie gets here.”
“No, no,” He protests. “And anyway, aren’t I making time fly?”
“I suppose,” You grin. “You are quite great company.”
Spencer flashes you a smile that makes your insides twist. You wonder if he is picking up on all this. If he can tell that you’re interested in him.
“I’m honored.”
“You should be.” You sarcastically quip. “I have high standards for the company I keep close to me.”
“Is this close?” He contemplates aloud. “I’ve never even seen you without your black polo, black pants, and nonslip shoes.”
You laugh, looking down at your clothes. “Don’t you like this fit?”
“I mean, I love it,” Spencer starts, “But I don’t know how much you’re serving day to day.”
“I serve even when I’m only going to class,” You protest. “Maybe when I’m done with finals, I’ll grace you with my out-of-work personality.”
Spencer grins, “I’d be honored.”
You’re on high alert, knowing exactly what was happening.
“You should be,” You echo, unsure of what else to say. It doesn’t matter though. You could say anything and Spencer would find you charming.
“Maybe we can go to competing stores and graffiti them,” He suggests, long since turned around so he can look at you fully.
“Pft,” You laugh. “I don’t want to get arrested with you the first time we hang out.”
“You don’t? That’s usually my go-to!”
“Well, my go-to is food. Or the arcade.”
“The arcade?” He questions. “All this time I’ve been talking about games and you’ve never mentioned that you’re also a gamer?”
“I am not!” You protest. “Definitely not compared to you. You’re a savant and I’m the fool.”
“I doubt that,” He replies, a grin never leaving his face as he leans in closer. “I say arcade so I can check out your skills.”
“Deal,” You say, leaning onto the counter so you are only a few feet away. “The arcade it is.”
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avatar-anna · 3 months ago
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Hiiii i thought of your young parents series today while scrolling through tik tok. An old clip came up from when Nickelodeon pranked them with that lady going into labor and Harry is like the most calm and attentive in it. Anyway I was like “ahhh and he would be if he had like a baby or was expecting one!” Also wanted to mention I love that series so much and often reread my favorite ones.
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Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader
bro this takes me baaaack😭
this prank definitely hits home for young dadrry, and zayn and louis definitely know that when they decide to pull the prank on the rest of the boys. poor baby h is just like wtf and grumpy afterwards. y/n just finds it hilarious:
"It's not funny."
Y/n, who held little Simone in her arms in their hotel room, tried not to laugh at her boyfriend, who was clearly annoyed at his friends' antics. "I'm not laughing at you, I promise. It's just—"
"What?"
"Did you really do the breathing exercises with her?"
Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, and this time Y/n did laugh.
It wasn't often that Harry got all pouty like this, and when he did, Y/n found it adorable. When she heard about the prank Louis and Zayn pulled, she wasn't surprised by the role Harry played in all of it. Of course he jumped into action when he thought a woman was going to labor. And of course he'd do everything he could to make the woman comfortable. Harry and Y/n had had a couple false labors before she eventually gave birth, and he was the one to help her breathe through her contractions and held her when every sitting position was uncomfortable.
"H, come here and hold your daughter. It'll make you feel better," Y/n said when her laughter subsided. Simone, who was playing with a strand of Y/n's hair, blinked at her parents innocently.
Harry, who could never resist holding Simone, softened a bit and stepped closer. The baby instinctively held out her little arms toward him, which melted any remaining embarrassment from his day. "Hi, baby," he cooed, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. "Missed you today. What did you and Mummy get up to while I was gone?"
"Well, we went for a walk on the beach, then we did a little shopping had some lunch at a cute little cafe, then we had to come back to the hotel because someone decided to spill their food all over themselves, and it was not me."
"Messy girl," Harry said, kissing his baby's cheek. "But thanks to you, I was ready to assist a woman in labor at a moment's notice, prank or not. Some might even say I was heroic."
Y/n rolled her eyes while Harry wasn't looking. "Yeah? And what does that make me for actually going into labor?"
"Babe, I was literally prepared to deliver a baby today."
"You almost fainted in the delivery room when I had Simone!"
"I've...matured since then," Harry said, a blush creeping up his cheeks.
That was a story Harry would take to his grave. The boys would give him hell if they found out, not that they would fare much better. He never actually passed out, but he did have to sit down at some point during the delivery. Let's just say it was something he would never forget.
For many reasons.
"Whatever you say, lover," Y/n mused, patting his cheek before heading into the bathroom for a shower.
"It did take me back," Harry said quietly a few hours later. Simone was asleep on his chest, and he didn't have the heart to move her into her crib. He was technically supposed to be in his own room soon, but he would sneak back in tomorrow morning before anyone from management noticed, and the boys would cover for him if they did.
Y/n, who laid beside him on the small hotel bed, brushed his hair away from his face. "I bet. Can you believe it's only been a few months?"
"It's already been a few months," Harry corrected, his hand soothing over Simone's back. There was a time when his hand covered her entire back; she was so small, and Harry was scared he might hurt her because of how delicate she was. And now it felt like she was growing too fast. He and Y/n could barely keep up with her as she grew out of her infant clothes. "Soon she'll be sitting up and crawling, then walking and talking, then going to college and getting into trouble."
"I think you missed a couple steps there," Y/n mused. "But yeah, I know what you mean."
"I'm scared I'm gonna miss all of it. Today reminded me that I wasn't even there to take you to the hospital when you went into labor. My mum had to drive you."
"But you were there when she was born, H," she reminded him. "You held my hand, you didn't complain when I squeezed it too tight. You got to cut the umbilical chord. And you'll be there for all the other milestones too. You're here. I gave you a choice a long time ago, and you chose us. Don't forget that."
"I suppose," Harry relented. He turned his head to the side to look at Y/n, careful not to move too much in case he woke up Simone. "I love you."
Y/n kissed him, cuddling into his side when she pulled away. "I love you too. Now, if you're up for it, I've thought of some ways to get back at Louis and Zayn."
Harry grinned. "I'm all ears."
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cupidbedsy · 8 months ago
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𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 | 𝘭𝘩43 ♔
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➪ summary: luke always knows when his girl is sad, and this time it's no exception
➪ warnings: depression, fighting parents, kind of bad family dynamics
➪ word count: 1.6k
➪ file type: fic
➪ sunny's notes: this is so weird because i'm listening to really hype music while editing the sad fics. oh well, i wrote this when i was sad so that's fun. also i reread this and i actually almost cried because i didn't realize how well i portrayed my own emotions in it so that was also fun
© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here
lh43 masterlist || nhl masterlist || taglist || navigation
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There was something about that time of year that caused her depression to hit its highest level. There were a lot of reasons that could’ve caused it, but there was none that she could say was right. It wasn’t seasonal depression, she had been asked that a plethora of times. It wasn’t a feeling of not being enough, she had been told that by multiple therapists.
She could say it was her parents fighting, her parents’ financial struggles, her brothers' snarky comments about how he couldn’t wait to move out and not deal with their crap anymore. She could say it was her family going to her for every little thing that went wrong, the amount of shit she gets from everyone in the family, the comparison of her to her brothers. It could’ve been a lot of things, but she wasn’t about to pin her depression on her family members, it didn’t seem right. 
Every one of her friends and family knew she had depression, it wasn’t a secret. She felt as if as soon as her parents were told about her diagnosis they couldn’t wait to tell every single soul they knew. She felt like she was a story waiting to be told. She often thought that if she had a kid who acted the same way she did, she would know how to raise them better. 
She hated critiquing her parents and her brothers, but they did it to her, didn’t they? She knew about the multitude of times her parents had gone to talk to her brothers about how she hadn’t been to class in a week, how she looked fine so there was no reason for her not to go. She felt like the little boy who cried wolf, however, for much different reasons. 
She always said she was sick when she felt this feeling looming over her so her parents wouldn’t get worried, and they would let her stay home from school. But then, she would actually get sick and no one would believe her. She was stuck in an endless cycle. 
Luke was worried. He had known about her tendencies to fall into this state of mind and not know what caused it. He knew about her family, the therapists, the psychologists, and the social workers. He knew about the multiple attempts everyone had made to get her to open up, about the amount of times she had screamed in her head at them that she didn’t know. He knew about everything.
It was easy for her to open up to Luke when they first met, he had this unmistakably calming and supportive aurora about him. He had bumped into her one day in freshman year, immediately apologizing for not looking where he was going. She had been on her way to the dining hall while he was on his way back, but he offered to take her there anyway. 
Ever since then, they had been each other’s rock. Luke asked her out two months later and the two were practically inseparable. However, this was the first time he had experienced this side of her. He could tell it was happening just slightly, her face said it all. He wasn’t entirely sure of what to do, she had always told him it was nothing to worry about and it should be better in a couple of days. But it wasn’t.
She wasn’t the best at answering her texts, not wanting to face the fact that she was not doing well. She had been cooped up in her room for almost a week now, usually occupying herself with reading or playing a game on her phone. She wanted to go to class, she wanted to do her work, she wanted to do better but she just couldn’t. 
She stared blankly at her phone as her podcast played through her earbuds. She had seen a text from Luke come through but she didn’t pay much attention to it. She felt bad for not answering, yet another part of her brain just accepted defeat and the fact that he might be mad at her. She had been able to get up and sit at her desk which was a step in the right direction, however she hadn’t done much since she got there. 
She heard a knock on the door, ignoring it at first. When the knocking became more persistent, she sighed and got up. Her, Luke’s, hoodie fell from its original bunched-up place in her lap as she walked over to the door. Her eyes had dark circles around them, her hair was tied messily in the back. She opened it and looked at the person standing on the opposite side of the door.
“Hi.”
Usually, she would’ve been excited to see her boyfriend but at this point, that was what she dreaded most. Her face looked tired as she stared at Luke with blank eyes, “Hi.”
Luke nervously shifted his weight back and forth between his feet at the sound of her voice. It was hoarse from the lack of use, it had unfallen tears caught in it, and it had a hint of harshness laced in it. His mind flooded with thoughts as her voice reached his ears, he hadn’t been expecting it to sound that way.
She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something more but he didn’t. The lack of communication between the two caused them to stand in the doorway for three minutes. Luke’s nervousness and awkwardness were seeping into y/n’s body language as she toyed with her hair and stood with her left foot propped up behind her right leg. 
When they made eye contact, the tension in her body went away and her eyes softened, “You wanna come in?”
He nodded and she stepped back so he could walk in. Instead of going back to where she was previously sitting, she went back and climbed into her bed. The feeling of being able to be vulnerable in Luke’s presence made her want to curl into herself, she didn’t want to be vulnerable right now. She pulled her comforter up to her chin, creating heat around her.
Luke shivered from the moment he stepped into her room, goosebumps rising all over his arms. He sighed when he saw his girlfriend revert to her original space, moving to sit at the edge of her bed. He placed his hand on her calf, the sheets creating a barrier from them touching, “Hi baby.”
Those were the only words that both of them could muster, an awkward tension forming between the two of them for no reason. She just stayed staring at the wall in front of her. He let out a soft sigh at the lack of response and turned his head away from her to collect his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to approach this, she had told him not to worry about her but he couldn’t help it. 
“What can I do to help?”
She shrugged in response, not giving him her full attention. Luke slowly moved his thumb to start rubbing her calf in circles as a form of comfort. Another moment of silence passed again, and the two slowly started to become more comfortable with each other once again. 
“Luke?”
“Hmm?” 
“Can you lay with me?”
Luke all but jumped onto the opportunity she gave him, slipping his shoes off and climbing in behind her. He wrapped his right arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. It was a mere five seconds before y/n was turning over and burying her head into his chest, “I’m sorry.”
“For what? You haven’t done anything wrong, baby.”
“For not responding, and for being like this.”
Before he had shown up she had hoped he wouldn’t even think about coming over. She hated when people had to see her like this. It wasn’t because of the way she looked but rather the thought that nobody would understand how she felt, that everyone would just complain about her problems.
But Luke was absolutely, positively in love with her. From the moment they met, the way he had been able to make her laugh within two minutes, the way she was able to ramble on about random things to a stranger amazed him. She had him wrapped around her finger since the moment they bumped into each other and there was nothing that would change that. 
He frowned at her words, “Don’t be sorry. You can’t control it.”
“I just wish it would stop sometimes. Move on from me.” He kissed her forehead and held her tighter, feeling angry at the world for doing this to his girl.
“I’m sorry this is happening to you.”
Her fingers went to tangle into his hair, her frowning at his apology. She played with one of the curls that had been sticking out amongst the rest due to its length. Luke calmed down at the feeling and gave her a small smile. It was hard for her to return the action, not having anything to smile about. 
Luke knew that was all he needed to do, just be there for her even if she said she didn’t want him there. Remind her that he would be there to support her through everything, even the parts she didn’t want him to know about. Reassure her that those feelings were common even if he didn’t know what it felt like. Love her as if the world was gonna end tomorrow.
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the---hermit · 9 months ago
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27|04|2024
Today I decided I didn't want to set an alarm and I am happy I did that, I got a bit more sleep but I still managed to be productive. In the morning I got done more than I had planned, which makes me very happy. I then went to my brother's for lunch and to spend the afternoon together rewatching the hobbit movies. We watched a movie and a half and we'll finish sometime next week. I am really happy about the fact that lately we have been having these movie afternoons because ever since he moved out we have not been spending a lot of time together and I really missed it. I hope we can make this a sort of an habit to spend more time together like we used to when he was still living here.
today's productivity:
read first thing in the morning
Irish review on duolingo
read and annotated the Merchant Of Venice (I finished the third act so next week I will be able to finish my first reread and move on to other tasks like finding articles to help writing my paper)
started looking for a couple of articles for my paper (and I have yet to find out if I can access them with my uni credentials but that is a next week task)
did a quick monthly set up in my bullet journal to write down all the things I have to do next month (I have to get back into using my bullet journal since I have not been using it for a few months now, and I haven't find the perfect system for this period of my life yet)
📖: Miti E Leggende Dei Celti, The Merchant Of Venice
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starrgaziinggg · 1 year ago
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all I need is you
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Hyunjin x reader, established relationship, fluff
-> 1.4k words
You almost don't notice the space beside you being filled. It had been hours, just staring at the city below you as the wind forced goosebumps to rise on your arms. Being alone had never bothered you much until today. Watching groups of friends gossiping around campus on your first day back only fuelled your desire to have a friend group of your own.
Girls you could talk about anything with. Guys that teased you lovingly. A firm body of people around you. It wasn't as though you'd never had friends, it was more so you couldn't find the place you naturally fit in. You were never any good at long term friendships, finding the forced nature of them disconcerting.
Hyunjin drops a hoodie on your lap before nestling in beside you, the make shift outdoor sofa you'd created one bored night being the only source of comfort on your rooftop. Until Hyunjin, of course. His warm aura brings you comfort even on your darkest days.
"Figured you'd be freezing to death up here," he chuckles, grabbing both of your hands in his to warm them. His freshly dyed black hair (a shame to you, since you'd loved the red, but his boss did not) blows into his face as he turns to give you a lopsided grin.
It's almost comical how at ease you feel now he's by your side, your feelings of loneliness evaporating almost instantly. He was a stroke of luck, Hyunjin, seemingly finding you when you needed him most. An art student, working long shifts in a local cafe to get by, who'd become a recluse voluntarily.
The bookstore you'd first met in was always desolate. You'd no idea how the small gem managed to stay afloat, since you were almost always the only person that bothered to give it time. It was one of your favourite places, the sole owner knowing you by name.
Six chapters into rereading your favourite book and there he was, nudging your foot with his as he flopped onto the beanbag beside you.
"Heaven, by Mieko Kawakami," he read aloud, tilting his head at you inquisitively. "Any good?"
A couple seconds after the shock of a gorgeous man interrupting your evening routine, you nod slowly.
"It's my favourite," you had replied in a small voice, confused as to why this god crafted human being was in a run down bookshop behind your apartment block, and why he was giving you the time of day.
"Tell me about it," he's said, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back, patiently waiting.
So you delved into a ramble about the basis of the book and why it meant so much to you, the premise of morality and why people do the things they do. And the whole time Hyunjin, as you'd come to discover his name, sat listening intently, nodding along without interrupting once.
When you'd concluded, realising you had been speaking much longer than you probably should have been, he raised his eyebrows.
"You know, I was never any good at English in school. I slept through every book analysis my dull ass English teacher ever attempted. And, I actually only came in here because it's one of the only stores in the area that has this art book I need, but I could probably listen to you talk about how to tie my own shoelaces and still be entranced."
The shellshock of Hyunjin's immediate interest in you took weeks to dissipate. You'd talked until the owner of the bookstore told you (lovingly) to beat it, and then some. The next day, you'd completed your summer university coursework in the cafe he worked at until his shift finished and then walked aimlessly around the area, never running out of topics to discuss.
And that was that. Within months you knew everything about each other. He took you to his favourite museum one day, explaining the intricacies behind every painting, and all you could do was watch him in awe. He walked you home, told you you were his favourite person in the universe, and kissed you because he meant it.
You'd never thought of yourself as a lucky person, but in that moment it was as though all your good karma had willed itself into existence.
"What's going on inside that head, pretty?" He says now, tilting your head up with his finger to meet his gaze.
"Nothing majorly substantial," you reply lazily, kissing his nose lightly and making him laugh. You tug on the jumper he'd brought you, a thick hoodie he'd bought recently, as he pulls an arm around your shoulders.
"Every thought you have is substantial," he says matter-of-factly, turning back to look at the view. The city noises dulled as he spoke, car horns and music white noise in the distance. "Even the ones about cats and why they're better than dogs."
"They are," you glare at him, which he just rolls his eyes at. You sit in silence for a couple minutes, enjoying his company as he traces circles on your bare legs absentmindedly. "How was your shift today?"
"Same old," he replies, pulling a hand through his disheveled hair. "You should come in after your classes tomorrow, sit with me behind the counter."
"You're lucky your boss likes you," you chuckle, bumping his shoulder lightly with yours. "I'm there every other day."
"Chan doesn't care," Hyunjin assures with a smile. "He likes you. He actually invited you along to our work night out next weekend."
"He did?" You ask, your attention piquing.
Hyunjin hums in response. "Yeah, but it will be a whole lot of Riki terrorising everyone and risking getting himself fired," he laughs. "That kid is a menace."
"Do you want me to come?" You ask sincerely, doe eyes blinking up at the man you were wholeheartedly in love with. He looks back at you with such adoration your heart physically swells in your chest.
"Of course," he answers instantly, his brows furrowed. "Everyone I work with probably likes you more than they like me. In fact, they've stated it more than once. Plus, I'd get to show off my pretty girlfriend, and I need you for morale support against Riki."
The grin appears of your face quicker than lightening as you nestle your head into Hyunjin's shoulder.
"Sometimes I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you in my life, you know," you mumble. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve you."
You feel Hyunjin shake his head above you, before reaching for your face with both hands and making you stare at him.
"You're perfect, love," he smiles, rubbing his thumb against your cold cheek. "You can be a stubborn thing, but I love you for it. If you could see yourself through my eyes you'd understand why I'm so infatuated with you."
You can't help but to roll your eyes, a natural instinct to any compliment you receive. He shakes you gently as you laugh, as if attempting to rid you of all your negative thoughts.
"Now, get your ass inside your apartment. It's fucking freezing out here, and I'm shattered," he groans, standing up and pulling you along with him.
"You're staying over?" You ask excitedly, knowing he was going to classes early in the morning.
"Duh," he says sassily, leading you through the fire escape after intertwining your hand with his own. "I missed you like crazy at work today. Chan's new no phone rule is kicking my ass and I need a cuddle."
You laugh, following him down the stairs in your apartment building like a puppy. "You're cute today."
"I'm cute everyday," he counters, turning to tilt his head at you. You stop for a second, just staring down at him.
"I love you, you know?" You say, as if he's not already aware of how deep your feelings run for him. He just grins back at you, tugging you down the stairs and into his embrace.
“I love you too, angel,” he replies whilst wrapping his arms tightly around you.
Maybe you would never have the amount of friends you’d always desired. Maybe those deep rooted feelings of loneliness would never fully dissipate. But with Hyunjin by your side, you felt as though you didn’t need anything more.
I wrote this last night and wasn’t going to post it but I think it’s cute so here you go :) sorry for the inactivity, I am swamped rn but I’m trying my best!
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kaisturni · 7 months ago
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bewitched | m. sturniolo
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→ matt x fem!reader
→ oc! created for the plot
→ plot; you and matt attend the wedding of your best friends, and he comes a realization about you that he should’ve known all along.
→ warnings; absolutely NONE. tooth aching, cavity inducing, sickly sweet fluff.
→ a/n; i’m so sorry i reread this and literally had to post
NOT PROOFREAD KINDA
——————————————————————————
“ready, man? big day today, huh?” matt shook, his best friends shoulders lovingly, excited to watch nathan get married, a sentiment you two always talked about together, the future wedding of the person that grew up beside the both of you.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧
“what do you think about charlotte?” he asked you whilst taking a sip of the milkshake you were sharing at dinner.
“oh, she’s the one.” he furrowed his eyebrows at you, confused by the certainty of your statement.
“how can you be so sure, they’ve only been together six months or so?”
you looked off to the side, giggling at his question, fiddling the straw wrapper between your manicured hands.
“she’s just so right for him, y’know? i’ve never seen him do the things he does for her, for anyone. they take care of each other. call it the honeymoon phase whatever, that’s going to last with them. oh man, have you seen the way he looks at her? that never goes away. when you know you know? right?”
he shrugs his shoulders, “yeah i guess so”
he had no reason to argue with you about your reasoning for why exactly charlotte was the one for nathan,
“only time can tell” he adds
“exactly right, matty. but time is all they need”
even then you had such an optimistic look on love. it was natural, real, and easy. you had no reason to believe a love like that couldn’t exist. but to put it bluntly, he didn’t exactly have the same compass as you when it came to love. he too had no reason to not believe a love like that was real, but that wasn’t something he could tell you. his relationship with you had only been a couple of weeks down the line. matt wasn’t ready to lose you just yet, so he kept those thoughts to himself.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧
“i’ve waited for this day since i met charlotte, when you know you know, am i right?” fixing the cuff links on his slick black suit,
deja vu hit him, and he thought of your words in a conversation you had years ago,
“for sure, now get out there and marry her”
the pair hugged, and nathan disappeared out to the venue, excitedly finding his way to the altar, the ceremony was about to begin.
of course, it wasn’t just him in the room, his brothers nick and chris, and nathan’s other groomsmen were also in collective. each got to walk down the isle with a member of charlotte’s party, you included, being her maid of honor after, and him as nathan’s best man. you were the ones to introduce them, after all. he faced the mirror on the other side of him, watching the men around him mingle and laugh. he fixed his own cuff links and tie in the mirror, almost letting himself think it was his own big day.
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧
the wedding party lined up, waiting for their cue to enter, you and matt being first. he hasn’t seen you yet that day, too busy scrambling; helping charlotte all day, getting ready yourself, and making sure everything was perfect for your best friend. right now, his mind could only imagine how beautiful you looked.
to be fair, he already knew how striking you were. since the day you two met, you were always the one to catch his eye. he could never focus on anyone else but you. in his mind it was young love; the love that makes you dumb, and wild, the kind that doesn’t truly last. now that years have passed you’ve been dating, and you’ve grown together, his dress shoes suddenly didn’t fit and the collar of his shirt was too tight on his neck, the thought of letting you go one day made him feel uncomfortable.
matt shook the thought out of his head, right on time to hear the music, signaling him to walk in to the ceremony.
you enter the same time he does, and his entire body felt weak at the sight of you.
matt knew you were never one to dress up, always in something casual and comfortable, unless necessary. he never gets to see you like this, the seldom times being prom and a handful of your own college formals. but nothing compared to this.
the black strapless dress hugged your skin perfectly, accentuating all your curves, paired flawlessly with white heels, yet you still fell short under his height.
your hair was neatly kept in an updo, soft curls falling in front of your face, he always loved seeing you with your hair up.
your delicate hold of the bouquet in your hands, french tips on your nails, as always.
your whole body glowed with radiance, and you met his face with a warm smile, which he gladly returned. he couldn’t help but think how strikingly perfect you looked; every detail of you he took in, there was no part of you that was a mystery to him.
matt has seen you be beautiful in every stage of life you’ve known each other, and this time it was astonishing as the first time around.
his mind trailed back to when you two were in high school and university; when you were still a girl and he got to call you that.
his girl.
but that was not the person standing in front of him, you were a woman now.
his woman.
you brought him out of his daydream, with a soft “hi,” soft enough that only his blessed ears could hear.
he mouthed the same back to you, and offered you his arm which you gladly took, effortlessly shifting the bouquet to your other hand. he looked forward at his best friend standing at the altar, nathan’s gaze bouncing between you and matt, smile growing exponentially bigger.
you and matt made your way down the isle, the trail of the others behind you following shortly after.
his mind went back to the thoughts he had earlier of what his wedding day would be like; walking down a similar path, similar people as his own groomsmen, but different decorations and maybe some different guests, but one constant was there,
and it was you.
meeting nathan at the end of the walkway, matt hugged him first and you following,
“thank you,” nathan whispered in your ear, you broke the hug, giving him a silent ‘of course’ as you shuffled to your side in front of the other women.
an instrumental began to play; charlotte was about to walk in. you could barely contain the excitement of seeing your best friend marry the love of her life. you felt a little proud about being part of the reason her and nathan started dating, but you were always humble about it.
matt on the other hand, he wasn’t thinking about charlotte; hell, he wasn’t even thinking about nathan. he could only think of you, and how you were beaming with joy in the moment.
would you be the same way on your big day?
‘Wrapped me in your arms
Leaned in and whispered
"Keep me in your heart"
‘I'm so bewildered
What's this new desire called?’
‘I didn't know that much at all 'bout love before
But now, I think I'm learning’
in all honesty, he never paid much attention to the lyrics, just knew that you liked it. but for once, his ears tuned in.
‘You bewitched me
From the first time that you kissed me’
that was true. your first kiss together was sweet and innocent, shared after only one date at the most dive style restaurant in boston. even from that day, he was hooked on you.
‘Waited all night
Then we ran down the street in the late London light
The world froze around us, you kissed me good night’
the grand doors fell open, and there she was. charlotte was glowing. a perfect bride on her perfect day, everyone turning their entire bodies to look at her. but matt’s eyes never left you.
‘You bewitch me
Every damn second you're with me’
he watched your eyes become glossy, tears almost immediately streaming down from your face as you happily wept at the sight the girl you’ve known for years.
‘I try to think straight
But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart’
matt had to force himself to rip his gaze from you, now looking at nathan, who was biting his lip, doing little to nothing to stop the pools of tears coming from his eyes. matt could only think how lucky he was to get to experience this. to marry the woman he’s been so sure about for so long.
‘You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart
And bewitched me’
deja vu hit matt again, and it hit him hard.
“only time can tell” he remembers exactly how those words came out of his mouth that day.
“exactly right, matty. but time is all they need”
you were right. you were always right. now he knew. time was all he needed.
‘You're not even gone
I already miss you
What's going on?’
he was too caught up in thinking that all good things come to an end, that his first love wouldn’t last, and it would only be a matter of time. you were the only good thing he didn’t want to end.
‘I've never been through
This all-consuming fire fuming
Cursing at the moon and losing all control and crying
'Cause I think I'm falling’
a shaky breath released from his mouth, feeling the guilt of not realizing he wanted to marry you sooner, how you always did things for him, things you wouldn’t do for anyone else; you took care of him.
he lost count of how many times he pulled himself into reality from his own thoughts today, and as charlotte made her way to hold hands with nathan, she whispered an ‘i love you,” to you, matt finally felt his eyes gloss with tears, at both the sight in front of him and the thought of you. all of you.
he knew he wanted you all to himself, forever.
your eyes finally met his, not knowing he was looking at you this entire time. you gave him that smile again, a tear dropping down his face.
“i love you,” he mouthed, you let out a gentle breath at his words. he knew were usually the one to say it first, not like he never said it. he said it all the time; but you were quick to steal those three words from his breath without even realizing.
“i love you,” he watches you mouth back, doing your best to not interrupt the moment happening in front of the two of you.
he vowed silently to cherish you forever, love you ljke there’s no tomorrow, vow to make you his wife. vow to show everyone the way he looks at you, because that will never go away. matt almost selfishly knows you feel the same way, thinking about how you predicted the future of your best friends only half a year into their relationship. why would you stay with him if you didn’t feel that, too?
because when you know you know? right?
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amywritesthings · 4 months ago
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Hi! Hi! Hi! It’s the Floch friend again. I missed Levi and SU reader so much!!! They live rent free in the back of my head and I always miss them, I don know how you do it. I’ve already said a million times how I love your writing, but it always scratches the right part of my brain and I can’t stop rereading everything.
As for the Hallosleepover, I have a couple of prompts, you can choose either of them (or none, if you don’t feel like it). For Levi x SUreader - their first fall on the surface, and for Levi x P4reader - “when they instinctively put a protective arm out to protect the other when an actor tries to jump out and scare them” (a prompt from the second list).
Hope you had a nice week ❤️
hallo-sleepover '24! / accepting.
floch friend, hello my love! gosh you are always so lovely, i swear. you are the best. i would be delighted to give you a lil First Fall for our fearless duo
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first fall.
pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader word count: 860 tags: big fluff vibes, changing of the season, mentions of the underground city, set in the flackbacks and universe of silver underground. credit: dividers by @saradika-graphics
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Colors.
The trees change colors on the surface.
Levi’s busy fixing his carat in the freshly-cleaned mirror in the corner of the room while you button your ivory pants. Now that you’ve both been on the surface — him for four months, you for two — you’ve settled into a new routine similar to the one you abandoned below the surface.
After living a lifetime there, you’re both used to working in pure darkness. It gives you precious time to be in one another’s presence before you have to slip back across the hallway and into your quarters to pretend yet another day.
The day is still young; dawn fast approaches from its kiss goodnight.
As the sun creeps across the horizon, your eyes see the flutter outside Levi’s open window. 
Your chin turns to observe absently, but then the world stops.
Leaves.
Red leaves.
(It’s almost the start of autumn, Petra had told you at dinner not long ago. A new season. It’s beautiful this time of year.)
“James?” you hear from the side; Levi’s voice, gruff from the morning still.
Dropping your leather leg straps to the floor, you abandon dressing in proper attire for a chance to sprint out of his captain’s quarters towards the front door of headquarters. 
The wooden door slams against stone, reverberating down the hallway. 
The sound may wake up half of the squad from their slumber. 
You don’t care.
Ever since the two of you managed to survive the underground with bared teeth and taut fists, it’s been tough to simply be. The Survey Corps are by no means gentle — people die just as often as those who were once your neighbors — but the surface dwellers have no idea of the luxuries they take for granted.
Down there, the gentle caress of the breeze does not exist. Down there, warmth can only be found in another body and not the sky.
There are no trees, no trunks, no leaves. There are no changing skies.
But up here?
Everything lives and dies and lives again. Everything has an order, turning brilliant colors in the blink of an eye. Slowly the humid summer air flutters into a crisp chill. 
The start of autumn.
Boots skid against the floor as you rush towards the front entrance. You scoot through a sliver of an opening to find yourself outdoors — surrounded by a sea of brilliant vibrance. The trees that were once a staunch green have now faded into a cacophony of colors: oranges, yellows, reds.
No two trees are alike.
“The hell’d you run out for?”
Hearing the baritone sound behind you, your wide eyes find Levi following out right behind you. His hands are still fussing with the carat at the base of his throat, jacket abandoned.
Then he pauses.
Sees, what you see.
“The trees are finally changing. I saw it from your window and had to see it for myself,” you exhale with a childlike wonder, unable to contain your excitement. 
With Levi you don’t have to — just like the changing of the seasons, he knows just about every version of you; every color. You’re allowed to 
“Is this what Petra was talking about?” he asks, leaves crunching under the heel of his boot as he moves to stand beside you. “Autumn or whatever?”
“I think so. She called it a season. I think she said there’s four of them?”
“What was the last one?”
Sticking out a tongue as you concentrate for a moment, the word comes to you a beat later. “I’m pretty sure it was called summer.”
“Hm.”
“I can’t believe they’re all different,” you murmur, pointing one out in particular: its leaves are only just beginning to fade into a new color, causing it to stand out. “Look.”
“I see it.”
His statement isn’t said with annoyance but amusement.
When you turn to him, Levi isn’t looking at the trees. He’s staring at you, as if he’s more interested in witnessing your reaction to something so new and beautiful than living in it for himself.
“Well don’t stare at me.”
“I’m not.”
“Liar.”
His eyes narrow with a fraction of amusement before blinking back to the trees. “Petra also said it will snow up here in the later months.”
“Snow?” you repeat. “What’s that?”
“Got no clue,” Levi admits, choosing to be honest in this private moment with you. If it were anyone else, he’d have a smartass remark. It’s too early for that. “Was hoping you’d know.”
Snow.
You wonder what they call the changing colors, if they have a name as foreign as snow.
Reaching for his hand, Levi does little to dissuade you as you pull him towards one of the adolescent trees to the east by the stables. When you reach to run a fingertip along one of the low-hanging crimson leaves, he squeezes your joined hands.
“Guess we’ll see it together,” he adds.
A promise.
To see everything, anything, together.
(A promise once made in eternal night, now carried into the light. I won't go far from you.)
Nodding, you squeeze his hand back.
“Yeah. Together.”
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