#glad there was at least one person who was not buying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dalamjisung · 5 months ago

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A muted shade of green ✧ Spencer Reid

genre: fluff, light angst

word count: 6339

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: Dr. Spencer Reid is simply adorable. And you actually think he might be perfect. Until, that is, he isn't.

a muted shade of green masterlist // next chapter

His apartment is a muted shade of green and you always wonder why is it that he painted it so dark. The book covered walls never fail to impress you, making you smile into the ether that was this place with its shelves and shelves of worldly stories. His taste, you think, is more towards the classics and refined tales that carry significance and importance in the world of literature. Dostoyevski, Austen, Orwell, Doyle. Though here and there, in some corners of the living room or thrown haphazardly in the kitchen counter, you see peeks of contemporary names, the ones you’re sure you sold him a long, long time ago. Murakami, Zadie Smith, George.

You met Spencer when you first moved into D.C., about a year or so ago, and sometimes, you really think that it was just yesterday when you first saw him with his purple scarf walking inside your store.

“Excuse me.”

You have too many books in your arms to even see who is talking to you, but you apologise nonetheless; it’s the least you can do for your first customer. “I’ll be with you in a moment, apologies for the mess, we literally just opened.” In your defence, you had been so busy unpacking all the new orders and organising things into shelves that you absolutely forgot to put the plaque with your opening hours by the door. You can hear his shoes clicking and clacking around the place, and a wave of anxiety washes through you. If he leaves with a book– luckily two– you will have made your first sell and that just might remind you that of the reason why you decided to do this in the first place.

Carefully putting the pile of Maggie Nelson’s on the counter, you finally turn to face him, tired smile from ear to ear when you see him holding two books already. “You found something you like?” You gently ask, voice calm and fingers fidgeting while you wait for an answer. “Many things, actually. I’m quite glad to see a wide variety of books here, it’s been hard finding something new to read lately.”

His voice is pointed and it echoes in the empty store. The clock on the walls says it’s 7:58AM and you suck in a breath; it’s definitely too early for someone to be looking for books, but maybe he wants entertainment for his commute, maybe he needs a distraction for the way, or maybe he is odd like that.

It must be cold outside. The man is wearing a purple scarf inside what looks like a wool coat, and somehow, he fits in there, in your store. He looks like the kind of person who would be buying books as early as 8 in the morning and you’re not sure if that is adorable or unhinged.

“Just these, thank you,” The loud thump of the pile of books he deposits by the cashier makes you gasp. “You have a great selection here, I was lucky you open early!” The twinkle in his eyes is what keeps you from telling him that that, in fact, was a big mistake. In the middle of rushing to get the keys from the landlord in time, get the deliveries, get everything sorted and organised, you had completely forgotten to put out the hours for the shop.

“I am glad you found us here! Do you live nearby?” At this point, you’re just trying to make conversation as you bagged his items, smiling at the titles and happy to see your favourite book in the midst. “I live just across the street, actually,” He said, giving you his card. “You’ll see me a lot, I’m afraid.”

“And what should I call my most loyal customer, then?” One look down at his card and you would know, but you wanted him to tell you himself.

“Spencer Reid.”

There is not really a sound reason as to why you walk so freely into his apartment. The first time he asked you to do this, he was going on a case and needed someone to water his plants. As it turn out, your store is quite literally across the street from his building and you don’t really mind the mindless task, so you tell him to not worry, you’ll take care of it. It had been a few months since you two met, five or so, and despite taking you some time to truly understand, you got used to the fact that Spencer created a routine for both of you, knocking on your shop’s door every Monday at precisely 8 in the morning. With time, you stopped questioning him even when you had many, many questions– was he even reading all these books? If yes, how?! Every visit, he left with three books or more, and unless he pulled all nighters every night, those were simply sitting on his desk.

Instead, you start putting a few titles aside whenever you spot them. You start it with ‘A Gentleman From Peru’ by André Aciman, short and sweet. Next week it was ‘A Little Paris Bookshop’ by Nina George. Then ‘Cultish’ by Amanda Montell. And just like this, you two form your own little book club, his visits extending beyond their usual thirty minutes into the better part of the hour to talk about the plot, the characters, the arcs. You know there is quite a lot you don’t know about Spencer, of course there is, but you learn more and more with every little debate you two have. You learn about his morals through the character he likes, and his dreams through the plots he enjoy. You learn about his photographic memory that allows him to quote his favourite sections to you, and you learn that he is a very logical man through his hatred for the inaccuracy of investigative books. You learn and you learn and you learn and you find out that you like learning about Spencer. More than you like learning about anyone else, that is, and now, every time he walks in, you can’t help but get excited, smiling as you only imagine what you would learn that day.

Sometimes, you did notice the absence of your favourite customer. He would disappear for weeks on end and then act like nothing happened, and you get it; he doesn’t owe you anything, you’re just the lady that sells him books, but you feel like there is something that is starting to bloom when, every time he comes back, he brings you a book. “I thought you’d like it,” Is all he says before leaving with his bag of new reads. For a moment, it’s like an exchange, but Spencer never demands anything of you; never asks for anything more than new books and recommendations.

It’s quite rewarding finding the books you sold him scattered through the apartment. There are a couple in the kitchen, open split on the counter and you smile fondly at the clumsy way he marks his books. There is no folded page, no book marker, no random picture; just his book, cover facing up, open and splitting the spine in half enough to crease. You shake your head, smiling like he’s done this just to rile you up.

“Oh my god, don’t!”

You don’t mean to shout but it’s too late. His eyes widen in shock and he immediately freezes, mouth stuck in a little ‘o’ shape that makes you blush. “What did I do?”

The wince in your expression is as visible as the light of day when you speak. Your hands hover in the air, unsure of what to do now, but still trying to do something. “The book, Spencer,” The words come out like a whine, and if you start stomping your feet you might as well look like a child. “The spine. The book. The– oh my god, the noise!”

The way he laughs at you is contagious, and you start laughing with him, face hidden behind your hands in embarrassment. Owning a bookshop doesn’t come for free. Your particularities when it comes to your literary treasures are enough to scare any sane person away. “You know, there are worse sounds than a book’s spine breaking,” He mused, closing the book before walking to your counter. His nimble fingers drum a soft rhythm as he waits for you to go around and charge him for the book. It’s a symphony, almost; so loud in your quiet store that, for a second, your heart is tuning in, thumping as his fingers do, beating to the song he creates.

“You don’t have to buy it,” It’s a little ridiculous how airy your voice sounds then. Aren’t you a little too old to have a crush? “It’s okay if–“ But he doesn’t even let you finish, rattling off some facts about the writer. Most of the time, actually, he is rattling off some fact about something, and some you know, some you don’t, but you never interrupt him. You like hearing him talk.

You miss hearing him talk. Whenever Spencer leaves, you miss him. You miss the knock on your shop’s door at 8AM. You miss the shy little chuckles. You miss the purple– the constant, always there purple. A wave of sadness hits you then, looking around the apartment with a longing expression.

The first time he calls you over, it’s not really an invitation. A week before it happens, he doesn’t show up for your Tuesday unboxing and you have to carry all the new orders inside by yourself. It takes double the time and despite the effort it takes you, it’s the absence of his coy chuckles and snarky commentary that leaves you breathless. When you open the boxes, checking inventory to make sure there had been no issues with your order, you find the book Spencer asked you to get him. It’s one of those special books, so old and unique that you could only get your hands on it because you had contacts in the space. “Huh,” You frown at that– it isn’t like Spencer to forget something. Hell, it isn’t like Spencer to forget anything. Before you can cower away from doing it, you send him a text. You have his number saved in the system, and this feels wrong, it really does. Using his personal information that he gave to you as a client felt wrong. But for a second, it makes you stop biting your nails in anxiety.

Your book is here.

It’s Y/N, by the way.

He doesn’t answer right away and you wallow in your regret for as long as you can. Your shoulders hunch forward as you line up the new arrivals in the shelves. Your frown sits on your forehead all day while you help other passing customers. Your hands brush against the book, all ready and wrapped up and sitting on top of the counter. You hate waiting; you hate waiting for someone or for something to happen as if you’re praying for a miracle. Literature has taught you many lessons in life. It has shown you countless of love stories that could’ve been resolved with a simple conversation. It has told you about people that waited and waited and waited until time passed them away. It has taught you that waiting is simply delaying the inevitable.

But what literature has not taught you is that, sometimes, waiting truly is all you can do.

That day, you don’t get a message back.

You get a call instead.

“Y/N?” The familiar voice on the other side speaks before you can and your shoulders tense up. Something is wrong. He sounds hoarser than usual, airier, too.

“Spencer,” You say back, clearing your throat of any remnants or indicators of how nervous you are. “Spencer, are you okay? You sound rough.”

Even his laugh sounds weak and a zap of worry rushes through you. “I’m fine,” He mumbles, and you know he’s saying it out of politeness. “I just got sick. I think I have a cold, it’s nothing much, really.”

The relief that washed over you in crashing waves is almost embarrassing. Even though he is not there to witness it, your face still flushes in a dramatic red. “Oh. I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you–“

“It’s not a bother,” The way his voice interrupts you, so strong and concise, makes you chuckle. “You’re not a bother. I uh, I’m glad to hear my book arrived.”

For a moment, you both stay quiet. You, on your end of the line, are nodding like he can see you. Except he can’t. Except he is waiting, probably, for you to say something. Do something. “I can bring it to you. If you want.”

This time, there is no pause. “Yes. I mean, yes, please. I– I don’t have anything new to read and–” Spencer pauses to cough and you start moving immediately. There is no one in the store and you quickly change the sign to ‘closed’, grabbing his book and your bag before locking the door behind you. There is a pharmacy at the end of the block and you keep your cellphone balanced between your shoulder and ear while your hands make sure you have your wallet with you. “Sorry.”

“No problem at all,” You cross the street in such a hurry that you don’t notice the traffic, getting a symphony of horns calling you out as you run to the other side of the street. “Shit…”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You tease, laughing a little and entering the pharmacy with purpose. “So just a cold, right?”

“Y/N, where are you?”

“Out,” There is no need to be vague, but you don’t want to give him a chance to protest. “I should be at yours in fifteen minutes with the book.”

“Just the book?” He asks in such a suspicious tone that you can’t hold back a laugher.

“What else?” Thank god for automatic cashiers speeding up this entire process. You are in an out in less than five minutes and before he can even answer, you are almost at his door. Admittedly, you are speed walking, almost running, in a futile attempt to get there sooner. “Which apartment do I buzz?”

“Apartment 23.” And that is the end of the call.

By the time you make it to his floor, panting just as you hike the last step upwards, he is already waiting for you, and you can’t say you’re terribly bothered to have a man like Spencer Reid waiting for you by the door. “Spencer,” You still admonish, a small smile playing on your lips. “You shouldn’t be out and about like this.”

“Then who would let you in?” The mischief in his expression, much like that of a child making an innocent joke, makes you giggle, nodding in agreement. “Do you want to come inside? I promise everything is clean, I’m not a slob or anything.”

“Yeah, let me come in so I can give you your stuff.”

“I knew it wasn’t just the book,” The coughing fit that followed has you rushing your hands, pulling things out of your bag in a desperate attempt to get him the medicine you bought. This had always been your curse, the flustering anxiety of wanting to help but being unable to take your time. Shaky hands push the book towards him, with the medication and some old receipts stuck to it.

“Oh shit, sorry!” You squeak, grabbing the receipts and shoving it back in your bag. One of these days, you’d have to close the store early to clean this thing. “But uh, yeah, I got you some cold medicine and your book. I’m sure you know this with your big brain and all, but you need to take this before bed, cause it makes you drowsy, and this other one in the morning since it has caffeine! And you should be good in no time… hopefully!”

In life, a pause is not always a bad thing. It’s a time to think. A time to appreciate, to enjoy. It’s a time to be. A pause, however, from the man whose brain worked a thousand miles an hour, doesn’t feel like something to be thankful for. “Is… Do you not like that brand? I didn’t want to get the generic thing, I don’t know why, I–“

“Thank you.”

At first, you barely hear it. For someone whose voice is so rough and hoarse, you’re surprised he can still sound so smooth and airy. Your reaction is obvious; he can see the blush in your cheeks and the way you bite back a smile. “Y/N, thank you, I really appreciate it,” He says it again and now you think he just wants to get a rise of you. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” You shrug, faking humbleness while you keen at his praise. “I wanted to.”

“I know.”

There is a dance that happens after that, one that you find yourself enjoying quite a bit. Spencer is more present than ever, and you’re getting used to having him around. It’s like you two broke the glass wall the kept you at a safe distance, and now is when you two discover each other a bit better. Like how you find out that, when Spencer’s hand lays on the cashier counter, just an inch or less away from yours, you feel the heath that it emanates. Like how your fingers curl and your palms itch at the sight of his shaggy curls falling on top of his beautiful eyes. Like how his laughter is deep when it’s true and dry when it’s forced. Like how he can read 20,000 words per minute, but he chooses to read 183 instead just so he can read you passages out loud.

You are not sure what he has learned about you, or if he even cares to learn something about you, but the thought still makes you smile. “What’s gotten you so smiley so early in the morning?”

Ah, yes; another thing you’ve learned about Spencer Reid– he is as quiet as mouse when he wants, and as loud as an elephant when he doesn’t. “My god!” You jump, hand immediately going to your heart to try and keep it from beating our of your chest from the shock. “Spence! You scared me!”

“I’m so sorry,” He laughs, raising his hands in the air, shaking the two cups of coffee he is holding. “I come in peace.”

“And with bribery, I like your style.”

His style doesn’t change, still haven’t. For ages, you think he buys you coffee at the nearby cafe. You don’t really know the name of the place, some cliche Cafe something something, but the one time you’ve been in there the coffee was terrible and the music too loud. It’s hard picturing your shy, smiley book-lover in there, trying to order something without raising his voice. It’s only when you see the go-to paper cups on his counter, on the fourth or fifth time you come around, that you realise Spencer has never gone to that cafe to begin with.

The cups are still there. You make a point in spotting them every time you come over– next to the microwave, close to the paper towels. The reminder that this man has, in fact, been making you coffee most mornings validates the fluttery feeling you have whenever you think of it. It makes it somewhat logical. “I must be spending too much time with him,” You mumble to yourself, pushing your sleeves up and getting to work. You are there for a reason, and if those wilting plants die on you, you fear that you might just never be invited back. “Why does he even have plants?”

You don’t know much about Spencer’s job. He hasn’t told you anything about it except that he travels a lot for it, but you can imagine it is something of importance– a man like Spencer was someone of importance, after all. In your mind, you can imagine him walking into an office down by the Financial District, working with big corporations as an advisor. Yes, you can absolutely see him as some sort of advisor or consultant, but something about him working in finances doesn’t sit right with you– he is yet to talk to you about crypto investments and how to better implement a payment system into the store. Shaking your head, you switch it up. Financial services, aren’t quite right, but maybe an editor, working in a publishing house. With the way he devours books and how well-rounded his personal library was, you could see him as a Publishing Director instead, reading manuscript after manuscript.

The thought of him reading brings a smile to your face. In his living room, there is an armchair that sits next to the large window on the west wall of his apartment– he says he likes how the sunset hits and makes the pages look warm and golden, turning words into a burning fire of knowledge– and you can practically see him there, blanket over his legs, books and books pilled next to it. It’s your own little secret, how every time you come over, you grab a book, any book, and you sit there for thirty minutes, forty, fifty, an hour; until the sun has completely set and you have to get up to turn the lights on.

Today, when you sit down, when you bring your knees up, when you drape the blanket over you, something feels incredibly right and incredibly wrong. On the pile of books next to you, right at the top, lays a copy of Gulliver’s Travels. If you remember correctly, which you usually do, last time you sat down at that spot you managed to read up to chapter five before the sun was gone. When you grab the book and you see the bookmark you gave Spencer the second time he visited the store, and you frown– usually, he’d pick up from where you left off. “How long has it been since you last came home, Spencer?” You muttered out loud, grabbing the book regardless. Because even when it breaks your heart to know something has been keeping him away from his precious nook, it fuels your heart to know he leaves your book where you can easily pick it up. To know he doesn’t mind you sitting on his armchair, to know he doesn’t mind you reading his books, to know he doesn’t mind you settling, somehow, in his house.

A knock on his door, however, breaks you away from your precious moment of rest and relaxation. For a moment, you can’t move, frozen in place light a kid that has been caught doing something wrong. It’s only when they knock again that you move, shuffling to the door to look through the peephole. “Who is it?” You ask, voice weak and shaky.

“I have a delivery for Spencer Reid.”

How silly you feel in that moment, hand over your heart as you take a deep breath in relief. Unlocking the door, you smile to the USPS guy. “Sorry, he isn’t home right now. I can take it for him.” All you have to do is sign it and close the door, but once you put the package on the counter and your eyes catch sight of a note scribbled on top of the box, all those butterflies inside of you slow down. And find perch. And for a second, make you miss them just like you miss him.

The first time you think Spencer might have a girlfriend is when he comes into the store with a certain look in his face. He is practically glowing and his eyes don’t leave his phone for a second. “What has you smiling like that?” You two are close enough to ask these kind of things now, making jokes about each other as if you have been friends for ages. “Or uh, who?” Even though you started the conversation, you want to end it now. There is a sour aftertaste in your mouth when you suggest another person to be cause of his happiness, and you know, right there and then, that that is just your jealousy speaking. At this point, you’ve been harbouring a crush on Spencer for the almost two months and there’s only so much a girl can take before exploding.

“Oh, it’s just a friend.” Somehow, this answer doesn’t settle you as much as you hoped it would.

The second time is when he brings a woman around. She is blonde, and loud, and colourful, and you eye her carefully. They are matching costumes, and for a second, without even saying, you already feel left out. It’s stupid, being this green over someone so pink. If Spencer was purple, and if you are green, than that woman was pink– she is happy and light and exciting. Next to her, you… well, you are as muted as his green walls. “Y/N!” He calls for you with such a big smile and you just don’t have it in you to pretend to be busy anymore.

“Hey Spencer,” It comes out quiet and a bit distant, but he doesn’t seem to notice, not with the way he is going back and forth on the ball of his heels. “And hello, ma’am. Welcome, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the owner. Please let me know if you need any help.”

That day, you two barely talk, but that’s okay, because Penelope, as she introduced herself to you after you help her find a specific book on coding, speaks for both of you. She says that it’s lovely to finally meet you, and mentions how much she has heard about you, and you think this is a very cruel thing to do to your poor, squeezing heart. But you push through. You pretend you’re tired, you apologise for the distance, and you lie about a cough. It’s better if they stay away, you say, but Spencer doesn’t buy it. Instead, he buys Penelope her book and leaves with promises of coming back the next day with your usual coffee.

After that, you don’t see Spencer for two weeks.

It’s a bittersweet feeling when you get the text that he is back. After almost a week and a half without seeing him, you miss Spencer. He created a space for himself in your life and in your store, and when he is gone, it’s just not the same. But just like how he did, you created a space for yourself in his apartment. Suddenly, the muted green walls aren’t claustrophobic or smothering, but comforting. They are safe. Familiar. They are Spencer. And just like you said, you miss Spencer.

“Y/N!”

You should be happier to hear his voice, but it’s not the same. The fluttering in your stomach is still there, like a slow buzz trying to come alive, but it’s not the same. Not when the note on the box, flashing like neon signs behind your close lids, has been tormenting you and your poor heart ever since you made the mistake of opening the door. “Y/N? Are you here? The door says open…” At one point or another, you have to come out of hiding and face him. Delaying the moment, though, is the best defence plan you’re able to come up with– if you look into Spencer’s eyes, if you see that pretty smile he has every time he comes back from a work trip… you’re fucked.

“Y/N, I need you to tell me if you’re here!” It’s not the same.

His voice. It’s not the same.

Usually mellow and undulating, Spencer sounds stiff, like he’s holding something back. Something new. Something… heavy. There is an edge to him right now, so sharp and cutting that it has you stepping out from behind the Science shelf in pure curiosity. And just like people say, curiosity killed the cat. In this case, however, it almost kills you.

When you turn the corner to find him by the door, the first thing you see is a man. He is tall and handsome and oddly serious. The way his brows are pulled together make you falter, steps slowing down and mouth opening to ask if he needs help.

That’s when you see it.

More like you catch a quick glimpse of it, the shinning spark of metal to your side, and you do a double take. You have to do a double take. It’s like your brain doesn’t believe what you’re seeing, and you move your head so fast you feel your neck tensing up in that way that makes your eyes water. “WHAT THE FU– OH MY GOD!” There is no way to throw yourself against a wall graciously, arms over your head and fear written all over face. You land in an awkward angle and your shoulder takes the brunt of the shock, making you gasp in pain while your legs give our under you.

Of all the ways you’ve imagined Spencer, him holding a gun up to your head was never one of them. “Y/N!”

“Oh my god!” You think you might pass out– you’re breathing too fast and your chest is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing to the point of physical pain. There is a ringing in your ears, muffling the entire conversation between Spencer and the other man and even though you try, you can’t look up; you’re frozen in a state of distress. For the first time since you met him, you’re scared of Spencer Reid. “I– I– Oh my god, I c-can’t– I can’t b-breathe, I can’t–“

“Y/N, look at me! Look at me, you’re okay, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” The moment his hand touches your shoulder, you’re shrinking away.

“Who are you?!” You manage to gasp enough air into your lungs to scream at him. One shake hand moves to the back of your neck, pressing down on the sore nape as you finally move to look at him, crying and all. “Spencer, who are you? Who is he? What is happening? Why do you have a gun in my bookshop, why–“

“Ma’am, I need you to take deep breaths,” The other man quickly holsters his gun and you actually think you might be going insane when flashes you a badge. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer. We are with the FBI.”

Federal Bureau of Investigation. Spencer is a fed. And he never told you.

“The FBI…?” You whisper, eyes going wide and breath hiccuped in your throat. “S-Spencer, you work for the FBI?” Nothing about this makes sense to you. The gun, forgotten in his left hand and now pointing down and away from you, is all you can look at. The gun that looked heavy and cold. The gun that those hands hold– the same hands you’ve wished and, admittedly, dreamed of holding yours instead. The gun, the gun, the gun.

The gun. You’ve never seen a gun before, not this close. In museums, of course, and in movies and shows, but never in real life. You don’t have interest in it either, having voted, without fail, for anti-gun laws and representatives. Anything and everything about this, about seeing him with that deadly weapon, feels wrong, and you really think you might be sick soon.

“Kid, put it away, you’re freaking her out.”

Then is when you catch sight of the Spencer you know. It’s the clumsy actions, looking almost freaked out himself– his hands fumble with the holster and it takes him a couple of tries to fit the gun properly. That’s when you know for sure– you are going to be sick. “Trash,” You mumble, trying to get up but falling again and again. “Trash, pass me the–“ But there is no time and you throw up right there and then, between the cashier and the nonfiction section.

“What just happened?”

“Morgan, get her some water– there, over the counter,” The rapid successions of words make you feel a bit better, a cadence of tone and rhythm that has your hands finally stabilising. “Y/N, you’re in shock. Adrenaline kicked in and left, and you pressured crashed, which is what made you nauseous. You need water, and to come sit by the counter.”

It’s funny, how in any other circumstance, you’d be ashamed and embarrassed to have gotten ill in front of him. As far as you know, Spencer is a germaphobe and this surely counts as germs. But as he grabs your hands, gentler than you’ve ever seen him grab any book in your store, and brings you to your chair behind the counter, you wonder if he forgot or simply doesn’t care. Both options don’t make sense. “Spence, what is going on?” Your voice comes out winey and rough, and there is no way to hold back the pained wince when you feel the sting spreading through your throat. Sip by sip, you try your best to drink the water and soothe yourself, but nothing seems to help.

Nothing until you hear him next to you, small and quiet and, dare you say, meek. “I’m sorry.”

As much as you’d like to tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, he does. “I see…”

“It was just… it was new, having someone not know I’m FBI,” His thumbs play with each other and you’ve known him long enough to recognise that Spencer is nervous. “And we started getting closer and I just didn’t find an opportunity to tell you.”

“There were plenty,” You clarify, feeling a bit of a bitch for the bite in your voice making him gulp. “But it’s okay. I’m not… I’m not anything of yours, I guess, so it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t say that. You’re my friend.” That hurt.

“Do you point a gun at all your friends or am I just special, Spence?” It is supposed to be a joke, but the memory makes your bottom lip start wobbling again and you feel stupid. You feel so, so incredibly stupid right now that you can’t even begin to explain why. “Sorry, I’m just– I’m not okay.”

“I know, and we’re sorry,” There is such raw honesty in his words and he manages to make you smile a little. Your hand is still shaking, but you stretch it out towards him regardless. It’s a conscious decision to hold onto his wrist, covered by his jacket, than to reach out for his palm, and from the way he looks at you, you know he recognises the effort. “But you need to come with us.”

“Why?” You cry out, a single tear coming out of the corner of your eye. At this point, the shock is going away and you’re more overwhelmed than anything else. You’re scared and confused and overwhelmed and it’s his pulse, beating again and again, that brings you back to Earth. “Why do I need to go with you? What is going on?”

“Y/N, when you were housesitting for me, you received a package, right?”

In the midst of everything, the memory of that day, that box, that note, all fade. Frowning, you shrugged. “The delivery man knocked and said he had a package for you… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I–“

“No, no, no, you didn’t, you didn’t. Please.”

“Ma’am, when you signed for the package, did you use your name?” The man, Morgan, ask, and all you do is nod. Of course you signed with your name. “Kid, we need to take her to the office now.”

“I am not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on!”

Finally, some energy in you. Some strength. Your voice echoes in the empty shop, and the chair tips back when you stand up on stiff legs. Looking at Spencer is hard, when you feel the burning of your rage inside, but you still do; you still meet those pretty brown eyes, you still stare him down until you practically force the answers off of him. “The package… did you see who it was from?”

“Spencer, are you insinuating you’ve pointed a gun at me because I read a message your girlfriend wrote on the package she sent you?! Because I didn’t mean to– I didn’t! It just… It was there, right at the top and I–“

“She is not my girlfriend,” He immediately cut you off, hands waving in front of him in a visual demonstration of desperate denial. “Not at all! I don’t have a girlfriend! I was–“

“We can deal with this later,” Morgan is quick to interrupt, sighing as he looked at you. “Y/N, we re really sorry to disrupt you like this, but this is for your own protection. Please lock the store and let’s go.”

It takes time for you to gather everything you need. You are not a disorganised person by any means, but suddenly, you can’t remember where you put what. Your bag is thrown under the cashier, and your keys are, for some reason, in the Fiction shelf. Your glasses are in your head the entire time, and Morgan has to point that out to you. The more you look, the more flustered you get, yet somehow, you make it to the car. Morgan is driving and Spencer is on the passenger seat, and the way they keep talking to each other using words that make no sense to you make you want to scream. “Spencer.”

The heaviness of his name, said with such emotion,, lingered in the air. His eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror, and he nods. “Yeah?"

“Spencer,” You whisper again, eyes wide in shock as reality starts to dawn. “Spencer, if she’s not your girlfriend, then who the fuck is Cat Adams?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AAAAAhhhhh I'm trying something new >.< I've been a massive criminal minds fan for a long, long time and Dr. Spencer Reid has my heart <3

Please let me know what you think, this is my first Spencer fic and I'd love if it got to turn into a series!

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rbfclassy · 7 months ago

Text

STILL IN LOVE! #7 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Toji stood in the empty living room, the light illuminating from the television as it played some random show that you were watching before he came. It’s been so long since the last time he was here, at least that’s what it felt like. Nothing really changed for the most part, still the same decor, the layout still the same. He couldn’t help but notice the set of fresh roses that sat on your dining room table, paired with a detailed glass vase. He already had his guesses on who gave them to you.

Toji looked over his shoulder towards the corridor that led to the bedrooms, you were still busy helping Naya wash up. He walked over to the table, fingertips gently touching the delicate petals. There was still regret and jealously that bubbled in Toji’s chest. When it came to you, he was selfish, never thought in a million years he’d lose you once he had you. That was his problem. With each longing look at the roses, it reminded him of when he did have you, the beginning of things. He used to buy you flowers just for the hell of it, buy you small trinkets he knew you’d like, addicted to your smile when he’d handed them to you. But like almost everything in this world, things fall apart.

Those moments turned into him coming home while you were in the kitchen, eating dinner with Naya and Megumi, not even glancing your way. Not a word to you or his kids all because of an argument you had before he left for work that morning. Of course he regrets it all now, when it’s too late for something to be done and said. It’s cliche, but it was true.

His eyes flickered towards the small card by the roses, his jaw clenched as he grabbed it, slowly opening it to read:

Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman — Kento

“Hey.” The sound of your voice snapped Toji out of his thoughts, quickly placing the card down and facing you. “The kids are, uh, asleep.” You nodded.

“Should we talk here or?” Toji cleared his throat, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

“Bedroom should be fine.” As you walked down the corridor, Toji followed behind you. There was still that picture of you and the kids on the wall, the one that he took when you all went to the water park. It was a bittersweet moment, but he’s glad that you still had it up despite the memory that came with it.

He shut the bedroom door behind him as you stood in the middle of the room. “So, you wanted to talk about the kids and us?”

“Yeah, I just want us to find a level placement where we can co-parent healthily. You know…where we don’t fight and argue every time we talk to each other,” you explained with a slight chuckle. “I just want better communication. Like if you can’t or can take the kids, if you’ll be going to their school events or something.” You fiddled with your hands.

Toji stared at you even while you avoided eye content with him. He took notice you how you played with your hands too, something you always did when you were anxious, thinking about things. He could tell something else was on your mind. Something else was on his mind too.

“What I’m saying is, I just think we should strictly keep communication minimal. Just about our kids. What we do with our personal lives should be kept private unless it involves Naya and Megs somehow.” You inhaled, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Toji’s brows furrowed at your statement. “Isn’t that what we have been doing?” He questioned, leaning against your wall.

“Despite what you might think, no. And to be honest, I know that you know that not what we’ve doing, Toji,” you scoff.

“If this is about what’s been going on the last few months, I apologize,” he spoke.

“It’s,” you sigh, “it’s more than that. Ever since the divorce, we never acted divorced.”

“You mean how we were still sleeping together,” he bluntly said.

You rolled your eyes at how honest he was, but you should know by now that he was no different from when you first met him. “Yes,” you answered.

“We haven’t slept together in months—”

“And about the unresolved feelings that we still hold for each other. That needs to stop. All of it,” You interrupt.

Toji was at a loss for words, staring at you, and finally for the first time in this conversation, you locked eyes with him. “You’re really taking this guy seriously, huh?”

You sigh, plopping down on the edge of your bed. “He’s a good guy, Toji.”

“I never said he wasn’t.” He shrugged, standing up straight.

“Okay, but you’re acting weird about it. Why can’t you accept that I’ve moved on? You should do the same.” You stood upright. “Me and you,” you gestured between you and Toji, “it won’t work out.”

Toji knew in the back of his head that you were right, but to hear those words out loud felt like a knife to the heart. Both of you stood in silence. All kinds of thoughts were running through his head, every single of them screaming at him to say something, to try and get you to change your mind. He doesn’t want to argue or fight, not anymore, so he holds his thoughts and feelings back even if it does hurt.

Say something. Don’t. Say it. Just keep quiet. Tell her.

“I’ve tried to move on just so you know. I’ve really tried, y/n.” And there it goes. There goes the words spilling out of his mouth despite what may come next. He just needs you to hear him just this one last time. He doesn’t care if it doesn’t change a thing between you two, he needs you to know regardless. “Trying to get with different woman, having sex, drinking, pretending to be who I was before I met you. But where did I end up each time? Right back to you, right back in your bed, in your home, holding you, kissing you, regretting everything bad I’ve ever done to you, to our kids.”

“Toji—”

“We were together for 10 years, married for 8 . As soon as you told me you were pregnant with Megs, I knew right then I wanted to make you my wife, to build a bigger family with you, to do right by you and our kids. I can’t just throw all that away, all those memories. Even the bad ones. You changed me, made me want to be better. No other woman has done that but you.” Toji walked closer towards you. It felt like your feet were glued to the floor, incapable of moving.

“Then why did you treat me that way?” Your voice slightly broke as you held back tears. “Like you were beginning to hate me, to hate us.” The thought made you clench your eyes shut as a frown formed on your lips. You hated to remember. Your should began to shake as a sob racked through your body. “You don’t understand how that made me feel,” you whimpered.

Toji looked at you with soft eyes. “I never hated you or the kids, not a fucking second. That thought would never even cross my mind. Hate the woman who brought me the most beautiful thing life can bring you? Hate them? Even though they can be a pain in the ass,” he chuckled. You laughed along with him, nodding in agreement. “Look at me, mama.” Toji lifted your chin, wiping the tears off of your cheeks. “I can never hate you or our kids. Tell me that you understand that.”

“I understand.” You sniffled.

“I know the way I started treating you and our family towards the end is what caused everything to fall apart. I don’t know why I did what I did. Arguing with you over stupid shit, acting like a fucking asshole, not being there when I should’ve. You had every right to leave. It’s my own fault that I didn’t realize what I had before it was gone. I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. You’re an amazing woman, a beautiful person, a wonderful mother. You were everything I could ever ask for. I’m sorry for making you feel like you were any less than that.” He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly while you cried into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

For the first time in years, you and Toji had a conversation without it turning into a heated argument. It was like a huge weight lifted off of your shoulders, like you could finally take a deep breath of fresh air. Toji just held you while you cried it out, rubbing your back gently. Though it hurts, he’s glad he was able to tell you, to apologize. “Mama, you deserve to move on and be happy. It’ll hurt like hell for me, but that’s what I deserve for what I did. My karma. I’ll level with you, I’ll do what you want.”

You pulled away from him, teary eyes staring up into his. “You mean it?”

Without hesitation he replied, “of course.” If it wasn’t painfully obvious already, Toji was still in love with you. How could he not be? He’ll miss you, miss the times you spent together. He wishes he could make up for all those bad times, replace those memories with good ones.

“Thank you, Toji.” You softly smiled.

“Dont thank me. It’s the least I could do.” He held onto your hand, his warm touch lingering on your skin before he pulled it away. “I’ll see you around, y/n.” Before he said anything else, he needed to walk away. Opening your bedroom door, he disappeared from your sight down the hall. You bit down on your bottom lip, brows furrowed as you sat there and began to process everything that happened.

Toji sat in his car outside your house. “Fuck,” he sighed. It should be him. You and him. He should be buying you flowers, kissing your soft lips, holding you tight, making love to you, telling you he loves you. His grip tightened on the steering wheel as looked at your front door. In front of him, a familiar car pulled into your driveway. Toji sat and watched closely, noticing it was the man he caught a glimpse of in your house, your new boyfriend, Kento. As he walked up the steps, you opened the door for him before he knocked, wrapping your arms around him and kissing his lips with a smile. His hands were on your waist as he kissed you back, pulling you closer towards him.

Toji tore his eyes away from the sight in front of him, jaw clenched as he started his car. You were his karma and the woman he was in love with.

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @nnnancyr @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat @mochimoee @cheridrwyy @olanii1019 @vi-ola666 @emmaperdoswife @sucrose-fqn @rhyies-pieces @tojislittleprincesss @sashadonat

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amazinglyashy · 2 months ago

Note

hi hi~ i have a silly request if you're interested (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) can i request the lads men's (pre-relationship) reaction to the reader introducing them to their boyfriend? but plot twist... its a fictional virtual boyfriend! just like the game love and deepspace LOL who would get jealous? who would have beef with a fictional man?? /JK

PS: im not sure how to say this properly but u like, write them so attractively 😵 if that makes sense, like the little quirks u give them and the dialogue, whoo weeeee 100/10!

This made me laugh because I still remember introducing my bf to my Obey Me boyfriends and kept trying to figure out which one was the most like him so he could buy me merch of them and push his personal agenda. Sadly none of them are like him, but now that I play LDS, Rafayel sure is! Thank you for the request! I had fun with this one! (And oh my gosh, that's such a compliment!! Thank you so so much, it means a lot!!)

Pre-relationship LaDS men react to your fictional game partner

Rafayel -

Who would have beef with a fictional man?

Rafayel would have beef with a fictional man.

He did not wait centuries for you, searching high and low for his lost love in every dark alley and bad idea that came across him- to lose to a bunch of pixels on a tech screen.

Truthfully, he knows it's all in good fun, and he's not completely jealous. He's actually pretty glad you found a nice outlet that helps you with relieving stress from you day to day. He knows you need it.

He's just... going to be now competing secretly with a fictional figure.

He thinks its secret.

You know what he's doing.

Why else would he be asking you what the latest event is in your game with your fictional partner, and then miraculously a week later you're receiving the very same things or experiences in reality on your day off?

He's not slick at all, and honestly, you find it pretty endearing.

But also, something you won't ever consider- is maybe he's doing those things for you, not only to make you happy, but to show you just how much attention he pays to the things you tell him about.

That's okay.

You don't need to know that part.

Zayne -

Zayne is not at all threatened by whoever this 'Jumim Hen' guy is.

Yes he is mispronouncing it on purpose. No he will not correct himself until he's gotten enough humor out of it and frustrated you enough about it.

Once that happens, he'll start pronouncing it correctly and if confronted about his change in pronunciation, he will pretend you need a wellness check and request you make an appointment with his secretary.

Smooth way to spend more time with you while subtlety calling you crazy.

He mostly does just think it's cute, though.

He will buy you food from places that might be having game events that get you special merchandise or in-game prizes, even if you don't realize there's a surprise event happening because it wasn't advertised in your game.

No, he's not weird and expects you to stop playing once the two of you start dating. He realizes it's something you enjoy a lot, and he actually finds a lot of pleasure in listening to you ramble about situations that are happening in your game.

He finds most things you do endearing.

Sylus -

You're giggling over it, that's all the matters to him.

He is rubbing the bridge of his nose though, because you had been building up to this moment for over a week and he was convinced you were going to show him an actual psychopath or something and he was going to have to figure out a way to make the man disappear without you realizing it was Sylus's doing.

He probably won't make any vague comments about how your fictional boyfriend is strangely similar to himself and that maybe you have a type.

Probably.

(He will make one per day.)

(At least.)

Once you're dating him, he has some access to your device and the game, simply so that he can reload your currency whenever you go to sleep. He doesn't want you to run out, and he knows you love playing. What else is his money good for if not for making you smile?

Doesn't understand it, but he does make mental notes of your current progress in the storyline and which characters you like. But sometimes he'll pretend to forget an important detail.

He loves hearing you babble about anything, after all.

Xavier -

He was a bit confused at first, but figured out what was going on rather quickly.

He thinks it's adorable, like when he first found out how much you love claw machines and the plushies inside of them. He doesn't see it as much different- the love interests are your plushies in the game, and your fictional partner is your favorite "plushie".

Easy.

Xavier has lowkey cosplayed your game boyfriend at least once, acting innocent about it and as if it was completely unintentional.

If you're dating by then, he lets you 'borrow' the clothes, so now you have an article from your game, but it also smells like he does. He's only allowed them back once they lose their scent.

He only accepts gratitude and payment for the favor of wearing them again in the form of snuggling with him on the couch, his arms wrapped up around you as he nuzzles into your neck.

He needs your "help" for a little bit.

It's the least you can do.

#love and deepspace #.writey #x reader #lads #lds #sylus x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader

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504py · 9 months ago

Note

Do you have any thoughts on yandere SDV Harvey?🤔

i sure do!!!! i think i got a little carried away 😭😭😭 i hope i delivered!

Yandere Harvey Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, no use of Y/N, munchausen syndrome by proxy, implied murder, implied NSFW, Harvey's a little weird about bodily fluids and food, long post ahead!

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

How the relationship started...

Let's say, he knows you outside of his work, and somehow, you're the one person in Stardew Valley who has never entered his clinic before. Honestly, you'd have drawn his attention right then and there because of your strange imperviousness to harm or disease.

Like... You? That farmer who goes down into the mines every other day to fight monsters has never been injured? You, who works day and night to the point of exhaustion has never gotten sick and required medical assistance?

The fact that you weren't one of his patients would worry him to his bones.

Even if you weren't one of his patients, he'd have befriended you outside of work. Perhaps at the saloon, after hours, and one of the very rare times he's seen you relax.

He notices the slight limp as you enter, different from your usual gait. When he asks, you chalk it up to a rock in your boot. Harvey sends you a disapproving stare and a furrowed mustache, and you loosen up.

You tell him you tripped while running away from a slime in the mines. And that you maybe pulled something while running. And maybe you lifted something wrong yesterday and hurt your back. And-

Harvey takes off his glasses to rub at the space between his eyebrows, stressed.

"And not once did you think to come visit me?"

"Thought it would go away if I just slept and drank enough water."

His gaze softens.

"..I really do advise it. Please."

Your fingers play with your glass. He can see a bruise forming on the side of your wrist, and the cuts and calluses on your skin.

"...I'll do it tomorrow."

He sighs slightly.

"Well, since I can't do anything for you right now, I'll at least buy you a drink."

"You can do that?"

"Hey, it numbs the pain. Painkiller." He jokes, and you laugh and shake your head. He realizes he likes the sound of your laugh.

"But- wait, don't take that as real medical advice. Really. Please."

That pulls another laugh out of you, louder, and pink warms his cheeks as he laughs heartily alongside you.

The next evening, Harvey waited all day for you to come in. It was nearing closing hours, and he was worried you had disregarded his advice, but right as he got up to start closing the clinic, the door opens, and there you are, leaves in your hair and your muddy shoes leaving a track on his tiles.

He's elated, he knows he shouldn't be, considering why you're even here, but he's so glad you listened to him, so glad you're here. He looks noticeably flustered, his hair is slightly out of place, his glasses are sliding down his nose, and his tie is loose.

"O-Oh, hey there. You finally came in."

"Were you waiting for me? I apologize. It looked like you were about to close up."

He waves your worries away with a dismissive hand, "Ah, what's one more patient? Come on, you look like you really need my help, anyways."

You follow him into a room, cringing at the muddy mess you leave on the floor.

"Sorry for that- I can clean up after we're done."

Harvey insistently shakes his head, sighing your name, "No, no, can't have you doing that, not in the condition you're in." He motions over to the bed, you sit on the edge of it.

"Besides, I haven't even started my assessment of you yet, but I already know you're gonna need a few days of rest at least. Doctor's orders."

He smiles softly at your annoyed expression, donning his stethoscope as you straighten your posture slightly, readying for him to place the other end of the apparatus on you.

"...See, you've got an abnormal heart rate for someone who is at rest."

He notes the warmth of your skin under his palm, resting against your back.

"Have you been feeling ill recently? Runny nose, coughing, headaches, anything of the sort?"

"U-Uh, no." You shake your head, playing with the fabric of your trousers. Nervous.

"...You seem rather flustered. Any reason?"

Your eyes glance up at his, he cocks his head, and you immediately look back down to your feet.

"...Nah."

Harvey smiles, knowingly, and the rest of the appointment continues as normal.

Expectations...

Following this, he'd be more obvious in his attempts to court you. His courting attempts would feel rather old-fashioned, but I think there's a lot of heart in them. I feel like Harvey would be a little bit of a sucker for romantic things, so you'd definitely be receiving letters, all from a secret admirer, of course.

He is confident that he likes you, but he'd carry a lot of anxiety about being so upfront about it, and that perhaps you wouldn't feel the same way.

The letters he sends you would be brief yet sweet. Short messages to pick you up for the day, just wanting to be a part of your life.

"If you ever feel like all the work you do isn't appreciated, know that I am always here, and I always do. You are doing great."

You'd tell him about the letters you've been receiving, during one of your evenings together at the bar. It'd make him blush. Oh, his letters were so important to you that you had to gush about them to a friend?

"And... What do you think of them? The letters?" His eyes are slightly wider than they should be, but the reflections on his glasses hide his faintly, much-too focused expression.

You shy from his eye contact, "...I think they're really sweet. But honestly, I wish they'd just... say it to me directly instead of hiding like this. I want to communicate, talk to them, y'know? Have a conversation, and stuff.."

Harvey blinks, wets his lips.

"What do you think you'd do if he-" He clears his throat, "-they did?"

You frown a little, mulling over the thought for a bit.

"...I'd go on a few dates with them, see if things work out."

His exhale is shaky, he takes a sip of his whiskey.

"Who do you think it is?"

You meet his gaze. His eyes are warm, his cheeks are red too, but that might be the alcohol... Though you realize he's not the type to get flushed when drunk.

"...Is it you?"

His fingers around his glass tremble, and his bottom lip quivers.

"I.. w-well..." He pushes his glasses up, nervously running a hand through his hair. You giggle, and he relaxes.

"Yeah." He smiles warmly.

"Yeah?" You chirp out a laugh again, "I figured."

Although Harvey was usually one who didn't have any problem holding eye-contact at all, now he found himself unable to look at you for too long without getting giddy like a schoolgirl and having to look away to save his racing heart.

That night, you two would be declared a couple. He teased you, wondering where that "first few dates then we'll see how it works out" phase went. You said it was different if it was him, and he had to hide his face in his hands to conceal his boyish, cheesy grin.

His first show of affection would be the next morning, when he brought you a bouquet of flowers to your doorstep, but upon arrival, seeing your expansive field of vegetation, he realized it was perhaps a bit stupid to gift flowers to someone who grows them.

Nonetheless, you accepted them from an embarrassed Harvey gratefully, saying you've wanted to try growing these for a while. Lo and behold, the next time he shows up, with a more thought-out gift this time, he sees a few new flower pots on your front porch.

Harvey as your boyfriend is strangely rather maternal. He tends to be quite the worrywart, always fussing over any cuts or bruises you may get while going about your day, making sure you eat and get enough rest, and always making sure you're dressed properly.

Oh, the different kind of monster Harvey turns into during the winter LOL. He will stay posted by your door, making sure you don't step a foot outside without a thick coat or gloves.

He does enjoy more than he likes to admit, though, when you still feel cold and he has to give you his coat or his scarf. It makes him all smiley and he thinks you look adorable in his clothing.

I think, his deepest desire, is for you to always stay safe, and that he is the one to provide that safety. I mean, with him being a doctor, he is the only person qualified to look after you anyways, but he still does get jealous.

He gets really upset when he's out of the clinic for a bit, and finds out that Maru was the one who tended to your wounds instead of him.

He gets more jealous when you tell him about the work you did that day, and another person was with you.

What do you mean you spent the evening fishing while conversing with Elliott? That could've been him...

What do you mean you spent the afternoon in the library with Penny? Wha- Gunther winked at you!?

Harvey really does want to spend more time with you, but he has a duty to attend to.

Unless...

Punishments...

Maybe, one day, Harvey will stop worrying so much over your health. He'll let you do your thing as you please, though it would hurt him to see you going about your day so haphazardly. But he'll hold back on his usual worried malewife nagging, and just let you do you.

One day, your dangerous lifestyle will catch up on you, and maybe you'll catch a cold, or you'll break a bone. Harvey will be there immediately, much too prepared.

Even though this is what he wanted from this plan, he still cries. He hates seeing you so beat-up, but he couldn't think of any other way to always be by your side. At least the tears blow away any suspicion of his part in this.

It could be a tiny fracture, but he'll still insist you'd need a cast, and that you'd need a wheelchair for the first few weeks. And, of course, Harvey's there to coddle you and help you around.

Maru says she can look after you while Harvey runs the clinic, but he gets uncharacteristically hostile at the mere suggestion of this. If Maru were to keep prying, if she were to find out that your injuries aren't as bad as he says they are, then Harvey might have to resort to more drastic measures.

Murder would be a very difficult thing for Harvey to do, but when he thinks about the life you two have right now- having you rely on him for everything, taking care of you everyday, spending every single moment with each other- his heart feels like it could fall out of his chest at the thought of anyone taking that away from you two.

His access to such a wide array of chemicals and medicines would be terrifying. If anyone threatens this peaceful, perfect life between you two, he could simply inject them with a certain concoction during their routine check-ups, say they needed it, that it was medicine, and it wouldn't even show in an autopsy.

Unfortunately, his tampering with human life extends to you.

Harvey, I think, would get much too enamored by this life you two have made since you've gotten injured.

Being able to dote on you with no restraint, being by your side for every single moment, it was all he could ever dream of.

But all good things come to an end, and your fractured bone would start to heal.

He never thought he'd be capable of lying, not sure if he'd ever done it before, but it's a newfound talent to him. Worries him how good he is at it.

He tells you you need to keep that cast on. That even if you're allowed to use crutches now instead of a wheelchair, that you still need his assistance. He insists that you need him.

Any sort of push-back from you would have his heart pounding. No, no, you can't get up and go back to work. You can't be doing chores on your own, he'll do that- You cannot leave.

Munchausen syndrome by proxy from an actual doctor would be a horrifying thing to go through. Not just any other doctor either, but Harvey, a man who seems so gentle and kind-hearted, a man who is supposed to be your partner.

Sad to say, but I don't think you'd have any way out of this. Your best course of action would be to just let him take care of you as much as he pleases. In due time, he would want to see you get better, so you'll be back to having your freedom in a few months, maybe...

Rewards...

It is pretty comedic saying this after that punishments portion, but Harvey, on more normal days, really is a passive man. He doesn't really have any strange obsessive habits, though he's probably a little weird about fluids...

By that, I mean he'd probably slip a little bit of his saliva or semen into his cooking. He gets a really euphoric rush when he sees you eating that tainted food he made for you. He enjoys that idea that a part of him is mingled in your body now. The other way around goes, too.

When you're sleeping, sometimes you drool, did you know that? You probably don't, because Harvey always wipes it off and licks it. It gives him shivers whenever he does, makes him way more excited than it should.

His libido is not the highest, but that's because I think he makes an active effort to suppress himself. Wants to be good for you. Harvey does have these dirty thoughts pretty often, but he usually just excuses himself to the bathroom for a second to relieve himself when it gets too unbearable. Even then, he dislikes this, since he feels like it'd be a waste of his release, since it's not inside you.

Every day would feel very domestic, he'd tease that you two already act like an old married couple, but he'd secretly hope you'd catch on to the idea he's putting down.

Harvey really does want to get married to you. He honestly, strangely, would act a lot more normally if you two were to be wed. It's like, there is something that exists that ties you two together, so even if you two aren't always by each other's side, he at least finds some comfort in knowing you two are bound forever.

Let's just, uh, hope you don't divorce him... Honestly, at this point, he may have already taken care of Mayor Lewis, so that option won't even be open to you anymore.

Harvey would probably try to pop the question during a little picnic he prepared for the two of you. The box for your engagement ring hidden in the picnic basket, amongst carefully wrapped sandwiches and lunchboxes.

You would pick it up while looking through the basket, wondering what it was. You open it, and Harvey feels like he could faint from how fast his heart is beating.

He stutters a lot, being unable to look you in the eye, then you rest a hand on his shoulder, and he feels alright again.

"I... I'd really like to get married with you, my love. Whaddya say?"

You smile at him, you say yes, and Harvey literally shouts in joy, before roughly taking you in his arms.

He quickly apologizes for being so erratic, but he swears he's never been happier. He just loves you so much.

Even though you two were only fiancés at this point, he'd call you his husband/wife/spouse from time to time, just a slip of the tongue, but he does get shy about it.

Your life together would be relatively the same now, just with some more added affection.

He'd get more comfortable around you, kissing you more often, getting more touchy, wearing less clothing around the house.

Of course, his main core value is still there; to care for you.

When thinking of Harvey's love language, you would, rationally, expect it to be acts of service. However, I posit this; his love language would be allowing himself to be taken care of.

He does get tired, and you do notice. You try to do his chores, try to take care of yourself so he'd have some time to relax, but he always gets fussy about it.

He insists that he can still do it, that he can still do things for you. Perhaps, he's scared that if he's unable to please you, that you'll go elsewhere, fall out of love with him.

You can sense that fear, and you tell him you'll still be here. You tell him to go lie down and rest, and you'll join him when you've finished cleaning up.

The wrinkles on his forehead soften up, so does his gaze, and he nods.

"I... Alright, sweetheart. I'll be waiting. Don't take too long, okay?"

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year ago

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hii, I wish to request a Willy Wonka x reader 😭🙏 where reader doesn’t like chocolate at all because it’s too cloying, so Wonka tries to make the right candy (or chocolate) to give it to the reader at Christmas Eve (he wanted to gave reader a small gift before Christmas day, like a form of confessing his feelings to the reader). And reader also prepares a small gift to Wonka bc they also want to confess their feelings to him

Reader can be gender neutral, or however you want

English isn’t my first language so sorry any grammar mistakes, also sorry if I didn’t explain myself well

have a good day and thanks for reading 😭🫶💐

The Bittersweet Gift of Love [W. W]

Willy Wonka x gn!reader

word count: 1.8k

note: don't worry! English is not my first language either. I have to admit that writing with neutral readers is always a challenge for me because I translate my texts directly, but I think this time it's a decent thing. I hope you like it!!

taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]

What could a chocolatier give to a person who didn't like chocolate? That was the question Willy had been asking himself for the past few weeks.

You hadn't specifically said that you didn't like chocolate, rather it was a matter of not liking the excessively sweet or sticky taste that some had. That is, most of the chocolates he made.

“Maybe it's just that you haven't found the right flavor,” he had told you once, while the two of you were talking.

And he was quite convinced of that, even thinking that if he managed to make something special for you maybe he would earn some affection from you. It would be as if he gave you a certain part of himself, so that you could make it yours.

So it was that Wonka, after reflecting a lot, decided to try all kinds of combinations until he found one good enough to satisfy you. Christmas was approaching and he believed that the occasion would be perfect not only to give you the present, but also to take an important step for which he had not yet had the courage: he wanted to confess his feelings for you.

The man didn't know much about love, however, he knew that he liked you a lot and he wanted you to know it. It was just that he was pretty nervous about it and he hoped everything would turn out as perfect as possible, after all, you deserved it.

Christmas Eve came when he was least expecting it and then it was time to dress in shades of green and red to attend the party that the Smith family would throw, as a thank-you to everyone after Dorothy had heard what the entire group did for help Noodle when she needed it most.

Willy put a lot of effort into buying, with some of the few coins he had left, a cute outfit appropriate to the occasion that he combined with his characteristic coat. When he was in front of the library door he felt the little purple box in his hands extremely heavy and he thought it would be a better idea to put it in his pocket, or else you would realize ahead of time the surprise he had for you.

“Mr. Wonka,” Dorothy greeted, as she opened the door “Come in, come in. It's freezing outside”

“Good night, Mrs. Smith,” he murmured cordially, removing his hat and placing it on a rack in the entryway. Apparently he was the last to arrive, since everyone else was already talking happily in the room.

Of course his eyes went directly to you, who was wearing a green sweater that highlighted your beautiful skin tone and you already had a huge smile on your pink lips from the cold.

“It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka,” said Abacus, being the first to speak “Sit over here.”

He smiled internally at the good fortune that the place the man had left him was right next to you and when you gave him a look, he felt himself blush.

“Hi,” he murmured shyly.

"Hello! I'm so glad you could come."

“I would never miss it,” he responded smilingly. His knees collided with yours and suddenly your warmth seemed to invade him as well, perhaps because of the closeness, but also because of the overflowing love he felt for you “How are you?”

With this question you began a pleasant and private conversation, which developed between close whispers and giggles that made him increasingly nervous. The others didn't mind too much that you didn't participate in the general talks, as they knew that certain unresolved matters probably needed time.

You ate the delicious dinner that the family had prepared, you drank punch, you sang some Christmas carols and when the night had advanced enough you returned to your previous place, although now with fewer people around.

“This is so nice, I love Christmas. The atmosphere is always so homely and warm” you said, with your eyes resting on the simple tree that adorned the room.

It was almost midnight and the others were in the kitchen sorting through some of the cookies that Noodle had put there an hour ago, which only left you and the chocolatier in the living room.

“I guess I believe you, your eyes are literally shining now,” he said happily. He felt like sliding his hand into yours and this time, steeling himself, he didn't hold back. You flinched slightly when you felt that.

“What are you doing?”

“I have something for you,” he breathed, feeling strangely excited by what he was about to do “It's a gift.”

“Oh, Willy,” you responded, a bit incredulously, as you bent down to grab something from your bag on the floor. “I have something for you, too.”

He chuckled when he saw the box lined with bright red and a purple bow decorating it, since it was a pleasant coincidence that you had also prepared something for him.

“But don't tell anyone, because he didn't bring gifts for the others,” you added, quietly, and then he helped you up, still holding onto your hand.

"Come with me"

He led you to an empty room and he closed the door behind you, hoping he only needed enough minutes to not raise suspicions among the rest of the guests. You were nervously holding the gift, with both hands now that he had let go of you.

“Okay, listen. I wanted to do something special for you today,” he began to explain, as he pulled the box out of his pocket. “And I also added, uh… a note. You don't have to read it now or anything, but it says something in it that I want you to know."

“You're starting to scare me,” you stammered, obviously nervous. Willy was going to ask what you meant until he saw you take a small envelope out of your pocket, which you placed on the red paper. “Because I have the same thing for you.”

He stumbled a little at the second coincidence of the night and he wondered what your note could be about. He knew that he had written a little poem confessing how he felt about you, but... what if you were just wishing him a Merry Christmas? He was going to look like a complete fool.

“You can read mine in a more… private place if you feel comfortable. Maybe alone,” he suggested, though he knew it was more for his comfort than yours.

“Huh, how about we just open the gifts and leave the notes for later? I wouldn't want you to read mine now either” you murmured, just as shy as him.

Willy agreed and you extended your gift in his direction, hinting that he would be the first to open. He undid the bow, carefully, and then opened the box, revealing a beautiful scarf.

“Wow, I…”

"Do you like it? I made it myself”

“I don't believe you,” he said immediately, looking even more surprised. “It's beautiful, I really love it. Thank you so much"

He wasted no time and placed the garment around his neck. Curiously, it matched the rest of his outfit.

"It looks pretty"

“Mine is also a gift made by me. Feel free to tell me if you don’t like it, I… I’ll understand, okay?” you looked a little confused at that and then he took out the piece of chocolate, carefully placed inside the box “I know you don't like chocolate, but I don't think anyone should live without consuming such a great delicacy. So I made you this, because it doesn't have those things that you don't like. It's... different, but I hope you like it”

With some shyness he offered you the sweet and you put it in your mouth, under his watchful eye during the process. You tasted what he had offered you: it was a little bitter, but not in that way that makes your head hurt or leaves a bad taste on your palate, but with just the right touch. It was firm and didn't melt in your mouth, but decent enough to chew on. And finally, it had a touch of something indecipherable to you, but that gave it a certain exotic flavor that was pleasant to your senses.

He, without knowing everything you were experiencing, kept looking at you because he wanted to analyze your reaction to know what you really thought, and luckily your reaction showed agreement with what your chocolate lips said:

“It is the best chocolate I have ever tasted”

Willy felt that like the greatest compliment in the world and he couldn't help a smile crossing his face, satisfied with himself for having achieved his goal, but above all for seeing the happy expression on your face.

“You will never have to eat chocolates you don't like again, I have a jar full of these just for you. They will even bear your name."

It was inevitable not to take a step towards him to hug him and the boy, although at first he seemed surprised, soon responded to you.

“No one had ever done anything like this for me. I appreciate it a lot"

“Well, it's my Christmas gift. I wanted it to be something special,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating in time with yours “Merry Christmas, Y/N”

“Merry Christmas, Willy,” you said. The note in his hand felt extremely heavy and he was eager to read it, but he knew he would have to wait a while.

Suddenly you heard Noodle calling your names and you got out of there before anyone else noticed your absence, which worked because the girl was walking around the hallway when you were closing the door.

“It's going to be midnight, come here,” she said and you obeyed.

Dorothy revealed that she had a small present for each person and you began to look under the tree, eager to find out what would be in those little boxes. It wasn't something very ostentatious, but you were grateful anyway.

So, when no one was looking, you ran to the bathroom to finally read whatever he had written to you, hoping it wasn't as embarrassing as the confession you had made. You were stunned to learn the content and for a moment you feared you were dreaming, but you weren't.

When you left you knew well what your intentions were and your heart stopped for a moment when you noticed that Willy was nowhere to be seen, until Lottie told you that she had seen him heading to the kitchen. You rushed over and when you opened the door you noticed that he was about to do the same, with a bright expression on his face.

A second later he had already pulled you inside and without saying another word, he kissed you.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #willy wonka x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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manikas-whims · 2 months ago

Note

hi lovely, first of all i wanna wish u a good day and i hope everything is going good!

i was cooking in the background but got to a block here, and i would like to know ur opinion on this:

lets say sylus (pre - relationship) somehow messes up bad with reader, to the point they distance themselves from onychinus. how do you think he would react and make up? I feel like he would observe from afar and then go ahead try to talk to them, but i have no clue what he would say, whats ur perspective?

tysm for ur work and im so proud to see u grow as a writer ❤️ byebye lovely!

Hiii! I've been wanting to respond to this for so long.. I'm just so tired by the time I'm home these days 😭

And I'm glad you think I've grown a little as a writer 🥺 means so much to me ♡ so sorry it took so long..🙏

As for the ask itself..

If Pre-relationship Sylus messes up,

then you'll definitely distance yourself from him and Onychinus itself because you still don't know him that well. He did abduct you from the auction and held you in captivity in his base. So of course it's quite difficult for you to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And Sylus seems to be the kind of person who doesn't easily takes offense to people judging him based on his line of work. But he'll definitely get mad because you aren't just some random person to him. He'll be disappointed because all it took was one mistake for you to judge him so harshly? Instead of treating him like every other person and giving him a chance?! He'd think you're just like the rest of the people who form an assumption of him based on his appearance itself. To think, he even bothered making an effort..

Thus, there's no communication between the two of you for at least 2–3 days..Not even Mephisto cawing and poking his cute, lil mechanical beak at your window 😞

And this leads to you getting even more angry at Sylus cause LOOK AT THE AUDACITY OF THIS MAN!!! He made a mistake and now doesn't even bother explaining himself!? Doesn't even try to fix this mess!? Yeah..you should've known..he truly is like every other person from N109. It's your fault for being foolish enough to believe he might have any humanity behind those glowing crimson eyes.

But after the passage of those 2–3 days, you finally begin to sort through your thoughts and feelings.

You also start seeing some familiar faces around your apartment. Luke and Keiran do drop a bunch of packages full of clothes, accessories and other luxurious items you could barely afford on your Hunter's paycheck. Nevertheless you reject them all, and even yell at them. “Tell your stupid Boss he can't simply buy my forgiveness!”

There are moments when you just consider forgetting everything and make up but you resist the urge because that would only encourage him. He'll think he can get away with anything if you're so lenient. And so you suffer his absence for the entire week, slowly coming to believe that you weren't important to him at all..

But Sylus is a mature guy despite whatever his reputation suggests. He'll be mad for a while and put off but he'll come to terms with the fact that he made a mistake. And now after giving you ample amount of time and space to sort through your own feelings, he'll finally decide to randomly show up one day at your door, completely shocking you when you answer the door.

Before you can yell at him or push him to leave, he mumbles in a gruff tone. “I’m sorry.”

To say that you are shocked would be an understatement for it's not everyday that the dreaded leader of Onichynus utters an apology to someone. Men like him are used to making people bend their knees and grovel. Used to exacting apologies out of others instead.

You blink several times before asking. “What did you just say? I didn't quite catch it.”

His brow narrows and he scrunches his nose in that way he does whenever met with an obstacle. Sighing, he repeats his words. “I said I'm sorry..for what I did. For giving you a wrong impression and ticking off all the boxes of suspicions in your head. For showing you something that I'm not.” He pockets his hands– a sure sign of awkwardness– and cocks his head to the side. “And I vow to make it up to you.”

Out of nowhere, Mephisto comes flying, perches upon his shoulder and croaks loudly in support of his master.

You try your best to hide the smile threatening to burst upon your face. You'd forgiven him on his first apology itself because one glance at him made you realize how much you'd actually been missing him and his stupidly handsome face.

Still, in an effort to tease him a little, you tilt your head and say. “Hmm..I'll consider forgiving you if you repeat your words once more. On your knees.”

There is a brief pause in which you almost believe he will do it. His expression seems as if he is actually considering it. Then, he scoffs at you and flicks your forehead.

“Don't push your luck, sweetie.”

And you laugh in delight, punching his abdomen lightly. “Fine fine, let's start again.”

You smile and offer him a hand. He looks at it, his crimson eyes roving up to gaze at you, then he accepts your hand, and shakes it. “As you say, sweetie.”

hope you liked this lil piece ♡

» MASTERLIST «

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace #lads sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #love & deepspace sylus #love & deepspace #lads #lnds #l&ds #qin che

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scorpioriesling · 8 months ago

Text

Ideal Mate + Ideal Date HC

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Reader x Rhysand / Cassian / Azriel / Lucien / Eris / Tamlin

Warnings: fluff, some light allusions to smut and brief suggestive scenes, light swearing

Summary: Headcannons/drabbles for (my idea!) what the "ideal" mate for each character is, with an ideal date for the two of them as well.

SR’s Note: Just another little idea I had, pls don't hate on me <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

You would have to catch his eye because you're "different" in some way from other females

Whether it is because you are human, you are creative, you are undeniably brave and don't care who sees it... he is enraptured by you

All of these things intimidate him a little bit, which is why he has to learn about you from afar first before he can finally meet you

He is so nervous when he finally introduces himself, but unashamedly peers inside your head to see if you're even the least bit intrigued in him as he is by you

He's glad he did, and had nothing to worry about; you've fallen at first sight

He makes a point to learn things you like; he has tried to teach himself how to paint, but gets frustrated that it is one of the only things he can't master

He already asked you for an evening by the sidra to paint and have a picnic; too early, though as now he is realizing he is no good at the skill you excel in

"I just want you to know, painting isn't something I'm very talented in doing..."

You get butterflies realizing the most powerful and dangerous High Lord could be so nervous on a first date with a human female

"Allow me to help you, then."

He melts when your fingers hold his on the brush, only using one canvas as you paint a picture together instead of two separate ones

He can barely focus, your jasmine scent so close as you sit side by side on the soft grass by the river in the moonlight. He's not even focusing on the painting, but on your side profile instead, so intrigued in your work, the way your brows furrow in concentration

The moonlight illuminates the soft freckles on your nose; he wants to lean in and kiss each one of them

"No wonder you do not paint very well; you don't seem to have a strong sense of focus," you smirk

Cassian

He didn't want to like you when he met you, but somehow... he couldn't help himself

Your icy stare, the way you carried yourself, your strong sense of independence... you made it clear you didn't want any man

But he wanted you

At first he didn't know how to act around you, usually the fae he took interest in were kind and welcoming... but you had a bite that would send every male in Prythian screaming. He wasn't sure how to make you like him

He tried kindness; he earned a scowl. He tried buying you things; another sour look. He even tried inviting you to things, so you'd feel less isolated; all that got him was rejection, every time. Finally, he'd had enough

"What is it with you? Why won't you let anyone in? I get it, your family sucks, but-"

"Oh, please. You know nothing about me or my family." You'd spat

"Yeah! You're right, I don't," he heaves. "I don't... you don't tell me. You don't let a single person in. You don't talk to me, or tell me anything, or," he huffs a laugh. "Gods, I mean. You wouldn't step back and realize that someone cares so much for you, or see that I've just been trying to get you to love me back all along!" He'd throw his hands in the air, and they'd fall to his sides

You stand there, frozen in shock. You really could not believe what you were hearing, coming from Cassian, of all people

One minute, you're contemplating how to go about all this. Then, the next minute, you're not thinking at all

You're closing the distance, two steps at a time, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips onto his. His large hands grasp your waist, holding you tight to him

You pull away and stare up into his wide, hazel eyes, boring into yours in utter disbelief

"Y/N... I can't do this if you're not serious about-"

"Take me out then. I'll show you just how serious I can be." His chest rises and falls, and he just shakes his head and lets out a suprised chuckle

"You'd really go out with me?" He asks, playfully. You roll your eyes in response, your usual irritation returning to your face

"Rita's in 30." You pull away from him and saunter off toward your room in the House of Wind, feeling his gaze on your swaying hips. You were already planning out a rather scandalous outfit for tonight, involving a tiny red dress hanging in your closet...

"You better stop staring at my ass, Cassie, or I might just change my mind." You call over your shoulder. He prectically clutches his chest with his hand

You were going to be the death of him

Azriel

Hear me out -- Azzie is attracted to someone who is originally viewed as very naive and harmless, but has a confident and brave side as well

He would see you from afar, wearing a pretty dress, a big bow in your hair while you walk along the streets in Velaris with your friends

Your smile has this man blushing!! and he doesn't even know you yet, but he knows he must have you

"You okay man?" Cassian asks, and Azriel cooly plays it off as being too hot in the mid-day sun. Cassian just gives a confused "whatever", but Rhysand says nothing as he knows exactly what is happening here

"I need a drink, and since Azriel is so warm," Rhysand side eyes his friend, smirking. Azriel immediately starts sweating. He knows Rhys is up to something, and Azriel has been casually observing you the whole morning that he's been in Velaris. You'd just gone into the small coffee shop, the one adorned with peonies outside; one Rhys was guiding the group of bat boys closer to. "...why don't we stop in here for some refreshments?"

He thinks his heart is going to fall out of his ass right now. He couldn't go in there -- you were already in there, and he was in no position to be talking to you right now

"Rhys, I uh, I don't know if I want coffee right now," he stutters quietly. Rhys chuckles, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Cassian looks between the two, still confused

"Ohhhhh Az," he sighs. "I'm sure they have water in there, and I am rather thirsty myself. Say, Cassian looks parched too -- why don't you go in and get us three waters, hmm?" Rhysand asks. Azriel glares at Rhys

"I know. What. You're doing." He says, voice clipped. Cassian scrunches his face behind the two of them.

"I mean, I'll go in and get 'em, I am kinda hot now that you mentioned the sun-" Cassian starts. Rhys puts a hand up, stopping his Illyrian friend and shaking his head. A wicked smile plays on his lips.

"No no, Azriel said he would go. We'll just wait outside..." He slinks over to a small table, and Cassian plops down in a chair, seeming to ask Rhys what was going on. The High Lord only stares between Azriel and the front door, silently ushering him to go inside. Azriel growls, forcing one foot in front of the other before he is finally opening the door and entering the small shop

The scent of roasting coffee beans and vanilla cream wafts through the air, the smell intoxicaitng and fresh. It only takes Azriel a moment to spot you, the blue and ivory sundress hugging you stunningly and the cream bow a stark contrast against your rich, flowing hair. He glances toward the window, and meets the eyes of both Rhysand and Cassian. Cassian gives him a cheesy thumbs up, and Azriel rolls his eyes as he heads towards the front counter. You're at the other end, waiting on your order

"Hi! How may I help you?" The cheery older woman behind the counter greets him. He can barely focus on anything, let alone the fae in front of him engaging in conversation when you're closer than you've been all day to him

"Three waters..." he says. The older lady follows his line of sight, a small smile pulling at her lips as she begins to chuckle

"I'll have those right out for you," hes still staring, and she shakes her head, continuing to smile at him. "Her name is Y/N."

This snaps him out of his daze. He looks to the cashier once more. "Y/N?" He repreats. The name has never sounded so lovely. Maybe it wouldn't have, but now he knows it belongs to you. The woman nods her head

"Yes, Shadowsinger." His lips part, but no words come out. "And, she is here every day around lunch time. Unwed. So... I'd suggest you go over there and do something about that, hmm?" Azriel can't hide the heat on his cheeks as the woman winks at him, turning to get working on a few orders. That was his turn to walk away, walk over to you...

As he approaches your side in the waiting area, his breath quickens. He can't help but notice you're alone, your friends have gone outside and oh-so-conveniently struck up a conversation with his two brothers.

Bastards.

"I don't think I've ever waited this long for a drink from here in my life," you say quietly, chuckling at the end. He only blinks, not sure if what he was hearing was true. Were you really speaking to him?

He turns to you, only to find you already gazing up at him. He can't help but smile, revealing his perfect teeth as he fumbles for what to say back

"Do you, come here? Often?" He asks. He already knew the answer, but...

"Almost every day!" You beam. "And you?"

He shakes his head. "First time in."

You nod slowly. "Oh... my. Well, I hope you've tried something delicious for your first experience." You grace him with another small grin, and he feels like he might melt at the sight. He hadn't realized how close you'd stepped, or maybe he had? Only mere inches separated-

"Three waters!" The cashier calls, setting down the three glasses in front of Azriel. His cheeks heat as he stares at them, the wide-eyed expression from his new crush not going unnoticed. It isn't long before the most lovely sound is filling his ears though.

You were giggling beside him.

"Oh... my..." you say between breaths. Azriel sighs, leaving the three cups on the counter and facing you. He can't help but let loose a chuckle himself, and your cheeks redden at the sight of him

"Well, it seems I'll need to come back and actually try something next time..." He says. You continue to giggle, trying hard to calm down and peer down at the floor, shaking your head.

"Hey, I've got a lot of great suggestions, but..." the cashier silently sets down your drink in front of you, and you pick it up. "...plain water maybe isn't one of them." You grin. Azriel grabs his water, taking a long swig and you wished that perhaps it was you on his lips instead-

You turned to walk toward the door, your new companion keeping up with you and holding the door open for you to exit. You open your mouth to thank him, but he beats you to it

"Maybe you can show me what you'd suggest? Next time?" Your wide eyes gaze up at him, his hazel ones squinting in the midday sun. The breeze lightly brushes his black hair across his tanned forehead, and you try really hard to supress the grin spreading across your face

"I'd meet you here tomorrow, but;" you hesitate. "Well, uh, I have ring training tomorrow at this time... but maybe the day following?" You look at him sheepishly. He looks as if he is ready to fall to his knees in front of you

"I'll be here, the day following." You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before skipping off to meet your friends. His eyes trail after you, his cheek tingling from where your lips made contact. He doesn’t register his brothers rising from the table and approaching him

“So uh… where are our drinks, Az?”

Lucien

Classic, but Lucie is going to fall for someone (kind of like Az) who is very soft and kind but can also hold her own

He is also going to rizz the shit out of you... but I feel like that is already a given

I feel like he would actually meet you in the Day Court when he's there on an assignment, and you'd be one of Helion's advisor's daughters and he would immediately be drawn to you

The gold and white dress and accessories you'd appeared in... oh he's down bad

He saw you at first in a group setting, not really being able to keep his eyes off of you but then later he spotted you near a pond of sunlight and couldn't walk away

He was walking closer, and noticed you actually weren't alone but were actually comforting a small child who appeared upset near the pool's edge. The boy stood, peering down at you on your knees as you ran your thumbs across his cheeks. Lucien leaned against a nearby tree, not wanting to interrupt, but also so intrigued by the scene in front of him

"There is no need to worry, sweetheart," your tender words pulled at something deep in Lucien's chest, though you weren't speaking to him at all. The little one sniffled and nodded, staring deep into your eyes. "I know it is frightening when we are lost, but look," you give the boy an award winning smile and Lucien feels like his heart is singing for you already. "...I've found you, and you're safe here! You know?" You say. He reaches out his little arms and braces them around your neck, hands tangling in your cascade of curls. You pull him in close, not letting go until he does

You take his precious fingers in yours, and he walks closely beside you as you make your way back to the palace. "Now, let's go find your mommy, okay honey?"

Lucien swears he could cry, hes never seen anyone so kind and gentle. He couldn't imagine having someone like that to love, and made the decision then that he would be introducing himself to you later that evening, properly

And when he does... ohhhh he charms you. It wasn't hard for you to fall for Lucien as quickly as he fell for you; he practically screamed "husband material"

He'd taken you on many dates, but the one that was the most special was when he brought you to a waterfall on horseback, just before sunset. He tied your shared horse to a tree, and led you to a small alcove where a small picnic was pre-set, the sunset streaming through the falling water just right (thank you, Helion). Apple pie, roasted turkey, and autumnal wine adorned the small blanket, as well as a little golden box in the middle. Your hand flew to your mouth

"I know the sunset and these falls make you who you are in the Day Court," Lucien says sheepishly as he guides you to the spread. You take your seats and he doesn't let go of your hand. "I wanted to show you a little bit of what makes me who I am too..." he trails off. You can't help the silver lining your eyes as you take in the scene around you

"Autumn and Day... who would've thought." You smile at him, and he reaches for the box. Opening it, he pulls out a thin golden necklace with a sun symbol on it.

"I love you to great lengths, Y/N," You only then notice as he is unclasping it that he already adorns one of the same around his neck.

"I don't want to leave you, or this place anymore," he says, reaching behind your neck to fasten the clasp. He breathes in your hibiscus scent, and his fingers trail down the side of your cheek. You can't help but let a tear slip free, realizing you'd never have to say goodbye again

"I won't ever leave you, or this court, again."

Eris

You caught the attention of Eris because you were plain

Literally

Eris was so excited (but, confused?) because he'd never genuinely loved a female beyond his sexual encounters, then he'd met you and you'd absolutely ruined everyone else for him

You were overlooked by everyone, which made you feel horrible most of your life, but Eris treated you like a queen, and he appreciated your simplicity and liked how uncomplicated you were

You were not even High Fae; which didn't go over well with Beron, but Eris didn't care. You made him feral. He'd kill his own father for you if it meant spending the rest of eternity with you.

His father was always trying to marry him off with other High Fae or noble females, but they were always too much to handle or too bratty and stuck up to Eris

He also didn't appreciate his father telling him who he would be allowed to chose and who he couldn't

But boy oh boy, did he choose you

He liked to keep your outings private, so no one would be able to swoop in and ruin the time you had together

But, that did not stop him from going all out for you and giving you all of the things you did not get to indulge in

He definately used his status to his advantage...

Your favorite date to go on -- a repeat date, as it was a shared favorite -- was to the orchard. Eris would spoil you by taking you shopping the day prior (you'd almost always choose a crimson or maroon sundress with matching flats) for a new outfit, and you'd wear said outfit the next day

You'd always wear one of his rings, though the two of you were not yet properly wed, and the sight of it made him weakkkkk I am telling you weak

He'd reserve the orchard for the day, and the two of you would ride on the wagon, share warm cider, and walk along the treelines as you both did when you were just young children

Obviously there would be apple picking, and he'd purposefully wander near a tree with ones dangling higher than you could grasp

"Eris, I can't-" you huff, stretching an arm up and dancing on your tip toes in search of the hanging fruit on a branch out of your reach. His eyes would wander, taking in your bare legs as your short dress rode up higher on your thighs-

Ughhhhh, this is not the place, Eris

"Allow me, my love." He would bend down, hiking you up on his shoulder and standing at his full height, arm bent and wrapped around your knees as you sat atop his shoulderblade. You'd wobble a bit, but, now you could reach the Honeycrisp you'd been going for.

Reaching toward branch, you grab on and yank. Seeing it glimmering in the warm September sun, you can't help but to bite into it, a satisfying crunch as a tiny drop of juice trails from the corner of your lips. A satisfied "hmmm" escapes your throat as you close your eyes, but the male beneath you catches on to what you're doing

"Heyyy," Eris slides you off his shoulder, hands firmly gripping your hips and gently setting you on your feet. Your spun around to face him, and he smirks down at you. Your now wide eyes stare into his amber ones as he leans in, licking the drop near your mouth and then leaning in close to your ear

His breath was warm on your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. His warm hands trailed up and down your upper arms, his voice low and husky. "These are for picking -- I thought we could eat... later..."

Tamlin

So... stay with me here on this one. Tam Tam is getting a mate that has a power dynamic that is going to absolutely match his okay

Whatever energy you give me, I'm matching it... that is the dynamic that this duo is giving here

Also... I feel like after Feyre, he would pull a complete 180 and be with someone who would put him in his place from the very beginning

His previous relationship really messed him up, but after he healed from that... he absolutely changed for the better I feel like. I think he would be with someone who would keep him in check, remind him when he's acting out, and almost maybe scare him a little? Kind of like Cassian and his ideal mate lol

Except... his ideal girlie would also be maybe just a tad unhinged

Just like him

It's alright... we love to see it

Anyways

His mate would be very modernly beautiful, I feel like; what comes to mind when you think of "society's beautiful". Not fake, however. Just very blessed, and just born this way -- lucky her! Lol

This, of course, caught Tamlin and the entirety of the Spring Court's eye

He was not very intimidated by his ideal mate, at first, but when he got to know you a little bit better, he wanted to do everything right and not screw anything up like last time

If he did mess up, or do things that were genuinely wrong or out of line... oh did he hear about it. You definitely kept him in check

Yet, another reason the Spring Court loved you

He did get easily jealous of other males, High Fae and lesser faeries alike for looking at you too long, talking to you, and fawning over you of course

Who wouldn't?

He'd wrap his arm around you a little tighter when in public, or kiss you literally right on the mouth in the middle of the square if people were staring at you for longer than he'd like

But, you honestly didn't care. You reveled in it, the attention you got from others, which in turn, drove him wild and would lead to his posessiveness of you taking over-

Phew... yeah uhm

Dating... he wouldn't even bother making dates private. He liked showing you off, even though other guys looking at you made him nuts

You liked public dates, because you liked to be shown off, and again, his posessiveness was so sexy and would usually lead to a great time (in PRIVATE, of course) once the nice lil date was over

You'd make it even better by wearing something fun for him when he'd take you out. Let's say... dinner, for example

You'd start sitting across the booth from each other, both recieving polite hello's and compliments from every faerie who passed your table. You'd of course return them; one thing he'd picked up from you was your politeness and manners

After a little while of spending time together and him gazing into your eyes, he'd seem a little... distracted... and slip into the same side of the booth with you instead, just to be closer to you

It didn't really help his case, but he really liked the smell of wildflower and honey that seemed to radiate from you

He'd have one arm around your shoulders, tracing small circles on your skin with his finger and you’d giggle because it tickled

But it also distracted you from his other hand slowly tracing up your thigh...

...and under your short, oh so short skirt...

Finally, you'd caught onto what he was doing and sat up straight, the corset top you'd expertly paired with this outfit for this reason alone doing you justice as his gaze flicked down to where it curved low below your collarbone. A soft growl graced the shell of your ear, and you only chuckled as his hot breath tickled the side of your neck

"You didn't put anything on under this... did you?"

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starlight727 · 2 months ago

Text

A little gift (part 2, no one asked for it but screw it)

Shadow Milk Cookie x reader fic (Chapter 2 - Theater of Lies)

Author's note: Made a part 2 cause I'm not done with my idea, I still have something else related to the story that I wanna show you (if you're interested, of course) Also, thank you for the wonderful comments in the first part, I'm glad you liked it! I hope you like this next part as much as the last one. Now, on with the show!

Part 1

Part 2 (you are here)

Part 3

A lot has happened since you got that hat: Elder Faerie died trying to buy you some time, and White Lily became the new guardian of the Seal, which made Shadow Milk Cookie changed the performance... into a quiz show! You were jumping up and down excitedly since you were eager to answer his questions (maybe that way he'll notice you for sure!). You sat down and took a deep breath before the quiz started, everyone else was standing up and steeling themselves, ready for any tricks he might pull on them. Everyone was feeling on edge after all of the recent events, and they felt very concerned and confused about the way you reacted to everything: You barely showed worry when Shadow Milk Cookie turned the whole kingdom into his personal circus, you showed remorse when Elder Faerie died but moved on quickly as soon as Shadow Milk started talking again, and now you're excited about a deadly quiz show, what the heck was wrong with you? Everyone turned to the stage when they heard Shadow Milk speak, but Wizard's gaze lingered a bit, he was gonna find out what was making you feel this way.

"Now, for the first question! Out of these False Heroes, which one is only half a Cookie? Choose your answer carefully and don't forget: time is ticking!" started Shadow Milk, as he pulled out five poorly-drawn cardboard cutouts of the Ancients, it made you giggle a bit seeing those goofy cutouts. Wizard Cookie was keeping an eye on you as you sat there, thinking.

"Half a Cookie? Isn't that... White Lily Cookie?" you pondered whether you should give your answer or not because you didn't want to put your friends in danger if you got it wrong (and you didn't want to embarrass yourself in front of him). Suddenly, you hear someone else answer.

"None of them!" yelled out Gingerbrave proudly, thinking he beat Shadow Milk at his own game.

"...oh crumbs." you thought to yourself.

"WRONG!!! Let the punishment ensue! Now... Who wants to be crumbled first?" announced Shadow Milk so loudly that it startled you. You gasped in fear of what might happen to you and your friends, and Gingerbrave (that dummy was gonna get you all crumbled!!).

"The right answer is... All of them" Pure Vanilla spoke up before anything else could happen. Thankfully, that was the answer he was looking for, so you sighed in relief, gave Gingerbrave a glare and moved on to the next question. Wizard noticed you do this, he was taking note of any changes in behavior you exhibited.

"Out of these three Cookies... Who is the biggest liar? Remember, your time is running out! So don't think for too long!" said Shadow Milk as he took out Pure Vanilla's and White Lily's cardboard cutouts and an amazingly detailed cutout of himself (you could tell how much he loved himself by the amount of effort he put into it compared to the others, it made you chuckle a bit).

"Ooh, a trick question! Ok, it can't be Shadow Milk because that would be too obvious, it might be White Lily because she lied about her being Dark Enchantress, but... how is Pure Vanilla a liar?" you thought to yourself as you wondered why Pure Vanilla was part of the choices, until you heard someone speak up.

"This is easy! It's Shadow Milk Cookie, who else!" said Wizard Cookie, so sure of his answer that he doesn't even realize that it's too easy! You started sweating and fidgeting your non-existent fingers until you heard a third Cookie speak.

"Oh no, that's... too easy..." commented Strawberry Cookie, at least someone had common sense. You got lost in your thoughts, thinking about the horrible punishment Shadow Milk had prepared for all of you!

"Well then, are you ready? What's your answer?" speak of the devil, Shadow Milk came back to hear your team's final answer.

"Come on, just repeat after me! 'Shadow...'" started Wizard Cookie, you were sooo gonna strangle him and Gingerbrave after you're done here cause like... DO THEY HAVE DEATH WISHES OR SOMETHING?!

"The biggest liar is... me, Pure Vanilla Cookie." his voice snapped you out of your silent frenzy, what was he doing?? Surely he had a good reason to call himself a liar now more than ever. Fortunately for you and unfortunately for him, that was the right answer (tho you didn't like the implications of it), another breath of relief is taken, then you give Wizard a glare, and prepare yourself for the next question.

...No, you know what? You were so angry at Wizard Cookie that, in a fit of rage, you took your hat from your head and threw it at him. Oh no!! What have you done?! You tried to apologize, but Wizard, who's been holding you suspect for having strange behavior concerning the Beast of Deceit, took it and came to the conclusion that maybe it was that stupid hat that was doing something to you, so the best course of action was to get rid of it entirely by turning it into ashes via a lightning bolt he casted on it after placing it down on the ground.

"NO!!!" you shouted as you ran to the place where your hat used to be, now turned into a pile of ash and dust. You picked up the ashes from the ground, hands trembling and tears building up in your eyes, your breath shaking and your voice breaking as you squeaked out your response.

"WHY?! Why did you do that??" you exclaimed as you threw ash at Wizard Cookie, who blocked your attack from his face but still coughed from the smell of it in the air.

"It was for your own good, that hat was controlling you, couldn't you see that?!" said Wizard Cookie in an unpleasant angry tone that even he wasn't proud of. He sighed in a tired manner and continued.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I did, but you have to understand that these are dire circumstances we're facing, so we need you to come to your senses so we can finish this and leave as soon as possible, alright?" he said with a softer tone to try to make you feel better. All you could do was get up, wipe away your angry tears and look away.

"Fine." you said, holding back more tears from flowing on your cheeks. Your face was red from the surge of emotions, so you took a few deep breaths to calm down.

But privacy isn't a thing for Shadow Milk Cookie, he saw and heard everything. There was steam coming from his head, his slit eyes were so small that they looked like toothpicks, his face might turn into a different color because of how furious he was! How dare that shorty ruin your perfect gift, he worked so hard to get it to you, and now it was nothing but a pile of cinder. He swore that he would exact his revenge on that so-called wizard and his friends, a devious grin grew on his face as he remembered his final question for them.

"Don't you worry, my little star, your darling jester will take care of this." declared Shadow Milk in his head, as he prepared everything for the last question... and final showdown.

114 notes · View notes

hayleythesugarbowl · 6 months ago

Note

spencer agnew ideaaaa

reader is tommy’s friend from mythical and meets spencer at a party they end up being found in a closet kissing???

Spilled Punch || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: when you agreed to go to a smosh party with your best friend tommy, you didn’t imagine enjoying yourself very much. you also didn’t imagine you’d end up making out with spencer in the coat closest 🤭

word count: 3k

warnings: none

a/n: hello love! i hope this is what u wanted—you said tommy and mythical but and i wasn’t sure if you meant trevor but either way, because you said tommy (and because i am not super familiar with mythical) i scrapped the mythical part and went with tommy’s friend. hope that was ok darling, enjoy! also female reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks again for agreeing to be my plus one to this thing,” Tommy said to you as you both walked from his car towards the house ahead.

“Anytime,” you answered, “But you have to promise not to leave me.”

You had been hesitant at first when Tommy asked you to attend a Smosh party with him, in lieu of his boyfriend who was away for the week.

Not because you didn’t want to help Tommy out. He was your best friend and you’d known him since you were both in diapers.

But because you didn’t no anyone here. Not a single person. And you’d be lying if you said that didn’t scare you just a little bit.

You’d heard stories from Tommy about his coworkers of course— Amanda this and Shayne that—but that didn’t mean you actually knew any of them.

“Are you kidding?” Tommy let out a laugh, “Leave you? And have to socialize with people alone? I think not.”

That might have been why you were such good friends.

You smiled at him as you drew closer to the home, a sign that read ‘Welcome, Smosh’ greeting you at the entryway.

According to Tommy, this party was thrown to celebrate Ian and Anthony’s ownership of Smosh. You hoped you dressed right for that occasion. You weren’t sure what outfits said congratulations YouTuber businessmen!

Tommy knocked on the door and the man who must’ve been Ian—he was hosting the event—answered.

“Hey, Tommy! Glad you could make it,” he said.

“As if I would miss a chance to see if Anthony was actually real,” Tommy joked.

“Heard that,” the man who you guessed was Anthony peeked out from behind Ian, stirring a drink.

“He’s not a myth!” Tommy exclaimed.

You cleared your throat not-so-subtly.

“Right,” Tommy started, “Ian, Anthony, this is my friend (Y/n).”

You shook both of their hands in turn. “It’s nice to meet you. Congratulations on the whole buying Smosh thing.”

“Wait, we bought Smosh?” Ian joked, “Anthony, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Wasn’t me,” Anthony teased, “I thought you must’ve.”

You decided you liked both of them as Tommy led you through the doorway.

You were met with a large, spacious living room with decorations and tables dedicated to drinks and refreshments.

You were surprised to see that you were some of the first people to arrived. You’d figured you’d be somewhat late—because Tommy had spent an hour making you rate each of his outfit options before finally selecting one.

Then again, you weren’t exactly surprised you were early—Tommy’s driving still scared you a little bit, but, hey, at least you got places quicker.

“Tommy!” You heard a voice call, and you turned to find a woman standing by the refreshment table and waving your friend over.

“Hey Angela,” he called back, walking towards her. You followed.

“Angela,” Tommy started, “This is—”

“(Y/n)?” She interrupted. “Yeah, seen her on your instagram. Do you know if there’s gonna be a cake?”

“Stalker,” Tommy coughed into his hand and you just laughed.

At least someone here knew who you were.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Angela,” you told her.

“Ditto,” she shot back. “Nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” you beamed. Maybe your outfit choice had been a win after all.

“Hey, are you good if I see if there’s a little boys room around here?” Tommy asked you. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Go for it,” you told him, “Have fun.”

“I’ll try,” he said, walking down the hall.

You were left with Angela. She was currently eating an olive off of a stick. You were pretty sure those were supposed to go in drinks, but who were you to stop her fun.

You turned your attention to the front door where more people were starting to file in now.

“So,” Angela began, “You wanna see if there’s a cake here?”

But you were distracted by the man who had just entered the house.

He was wearing a blue-and-white striped button down tucked into dark jeans, a black blazer overtop it. You watched as he greeted the hosts and began talking to other partygoers.

“Hey,” you asked Angela, “Who’s that?”

You tried to point out the man as discreetly as you could.

“Spencer?” She said loudly. You winced, glad the party had gotten louder. “What about him? You know him?”

“No, I just—He’s cute,” you confessed, blushing.

She smiled knowingly. “Oh, got it. Want me to call him over here? Spencer!”

“No!” You interrupted her. “No, don’t do that.”

But it was too late. The man—Spencer—must've heard Angela, because he smiled and waved before heading in your direction.

“Hey Ange, what’s up?” He asked her.

“Nothing much,” she rocked back and forth on her feet. “Hey! Have you met (Y/n)?”

Spencer turned to you, his gaze landing on first your face and then your outfit and then back to your face.

You willed yourself not to blush. He was even more attractive up close and the way his eyes bore into yours didn’t exactly do anything to make him less appealing.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Spencer said, “Do you work at Smosh?”

“No,” you answered, “I’m just a plus one.”

“I knew I would’ve remembered you,” he said, picking up on of Angela’s olives.

Now you could do nothing to stop the heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I—” you got out, “I’m just here with Tommy.”

“What about me?” Tommy asked, coming up behind you. “Oh, hey Spencer.”

“Sup man,” Spencer addressed Tommy. “I was just meeting your girlfriend.”

Angela snorted.

“Not my girlfriend,” Tommy rolled his eyes at Spencer.

“His loss,” Spencer turned to you, mock whispering, “You could do better anyway.”

“I’m going to pretend that wasn’t offensive,” Tommy said, picking up one of Angela’s olives before gagging and spitting it out.

“I forgot I hate olives,” he said through coughs.

“Well,” Spencer said, “I can’t be near someone with such bad taste in—vegetables? fruits? whatever the hell olives are—so I’m going to bounce. It was nice meeting you (Y/n). Congratulations on the breakup.”

Spencer gestured between you and Tommy before walking away. You let out a breath.

“Ok, is it just me or was he totally flirting with you?” Angela whispered.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“That was flirting if I’ve ever seen it. Tommy, back me up.”

“As far as straight people flirting goes…yeah. I’d say he was,” Tommy said, considering.

You blushed again. Had he been flirting with you? He had seemed…friendly, at least. You were already sad that he was gone. You liked his quick wit and easy conversation skills.

And the whole finding him really attractive thing didn’t hurt.

“Is it warm in here or is it just me?” You asked them.

“I think it’s Spencer,” Angela sing-songed.

“Very funny,” you crossed your arms. “But actually, I think I’m going to see if there’s a coat closet or something.”

You took off your jacket and headed down the hall. You stopped at the first door you found—it looked closet-like enough.

Judging from the row of sweaters and coats that greeted you, your guess had been correct.

You began to hang your jacket, stopping when you spotted the blazer Spencer had been wearing.

You imagined what it would be like to wear it. Not now, of course—you swore it was like a hundred degrees in there—but you pictured yourself as Spencer’s girlfriend, sharing clothes, his scent engulfing you.

You snapped yourself out of your fantasy. You had just met this man. You hardly knew him.

You quickly hung up your coat, closing the door and taking a minute to collect yourself before heading back out into the party.

Definitely not thinking about seeing Spencer again.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

You had come to the conclusion that a small army must’ve arrived in the short time it took you to discard your layers.

Apparently it was the style to arrive fashionably late, because the party had almost doubled.

Someone had begun blasting music and it was now so crowded that you couldn’t find Tommy amongst the partygoers.

“(Y/n)!” You heard someone call.

After a few seconds of scanning the room, you found Angela waving her arms to get your attention.

You squeezed through people to get to her.

“Are you looking for Tommy?” She had to yell to be heard over the music and chatter.

“Yes!” You shouted back.

“I think I saw him over by the appetizers! Don’t bother looking for a cake though, there isn’t a single slice in this place!” She pointed in the direction she was indicating and you began to make your way over there, bumping into people on your way.

You had just spotted Tommy a few yards away when you saw a flash of movement and suddenly red liquid dripped down your front.

You looked up in confusion to find Spencer directly in front of you, a look of shock on his face as he tried to figure out how he had been pushed forwards.

“My bad,” he shouted, looking down at the now-mostly-empty cup in his hand. “Don’t suppose we could blame this on whoever shoved me?”

You looked down at the dark liquid already forming stains on your light blue top, the fabric clinging to your body.

You shrugged. “What they don’t know can’t hurt them. I’ll transfer my grudge—and the 40 dollars this shirt cost—to whoever shoved you.”

Spencer smiled. “Phew. Glad we got that figured out—I almost had to pay 40 bucks for a shirt.”

“Bold for someone who technically still owes me,” you put your hands on your hips.

“Sorry,” he put his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground. “Believe it or not I’ve actually never spilled punch on a pretty girl before, so I’m kinda playing this by ear.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling the room get warmer at his use of the word ‘pretty’.

“I should probably go change out of this,” you gestured to the material hugging your torso. “Good thing I brought a jacket.”

“I’d feel like a jerk if I didn’t offer to come with you,” he said.

“Oh, um, thanks for the offer but—”

“No, I insist,” Spencer cut you off, leaning closer and saying quieter, “Don’t tell anyone, but in not a huge party person.”

“Neither am I,” you confided back. “After you.”

You filed in behind Spencer as you made your way to the hall. It got gradually quieter as you walked farther and farther away from the center of the gathering.

You became aware of the fact that you and Spencer were going somewhere together. Alone.

Your pulse picked up and you told yourself the dampness though felt was just the punch soaking through your shirt.

Once you reached the closet, Spencer hung back and let you open the door.

“How many coats can one party have,” Spencer eyed the row, shaking his head.

“Don’t act like you didn’t contribute,” you said, looking for your jean jacket.

“Technically—” He stopped abruptly, looking at you with a smirk. “How did you know I have a jacket in here? Creep.”

You blushed for the millionth time that night. You’d forgotten when you said it that he didn’t exactly know you’d been eyeing his coat earlier.

“More like observant. You were wearing it when Angela introduced us,” you covered.

“But you don’t know I put it in here,” he raised an eyebrow.

“Where else would you have put it? The bathroom?”

“This coming from the girl wearing punch for a shirt,” Spencer gestured to your top.

“And who’s fault is that?”

“Random party-shover, remember? I thought we agreed that’s where the fault lies.”

“How could I forget,” you stepped into the small room, still digging for your jacket. Was it possible someone had moved it in the short time you’d left it alone?

“Wow, it’s so much quieter in here,” you said, ducking underneath the long shawls and sport coats.

Spencer stepped in with you, and you realized how close you were to him.

“Watch this,” he said, shutting the door and drowning out all noise.

It was calming, the break from the loud chaos. Unfortunately, you couldn’t fully enjoy the calm because the whole being in a tiny closet with Spencer thing didn’t exactly put your nerves at ease.

You turned around, still searching for your new shirt.

“Found it,” Spencer said, and you turned to find him standing next to you and skimming through the rack.

“My jacket?”

“No, the one I’m going to take home!” He pulled out a long, orange-and-purple shawl that looked like something your great-aunt would have worn.

“Good call, brings out your eyes,” you teased. “Oh, here’s my coat!”

You pulled it off the hanger, pausing.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I kind of need to change,” you said.

“Oh, right,” he looked vaguely embarrassed. “I’ll just—”

He tried to turn around but got caught in the slew of coats. You giggled as a large sleeve landed on his head.

“New plan,” he finished, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. “My lids are sealed.”

You smiled, even though he couldn’t actually see you, pulling your shirt off and dropping it to the ground.

It was odd, changing in front of him. Even though you knew his eyes were closed, it still felt like he was watching you and you hurried to put the jacket on, buttoning it up quickly.

You looked at Spencer, who was rocking back and forth on his heels. He looked so vulnerable and respectful—and mildly uncomfortable.

Even though you hardly knew him, it felt like you had been acquainted longer. You couldn't attempt to deny your attraction to him. Just in the couple hours you had known him, you already thought he was kind and funny and charming and—

You watched him standing there, eyes still closed. You took a step closer to him, almost involuntarily.

“(Y/n)? Are you trying on all the coats?” His voice brought you back to reality.

“Just the old lady shawl,” you said.

“Well, in that case, you have to let me open my eyes.”

“I already took it off, you’re too late,” you teased. “It was too sexy to be seen by any eyes other than my own.”

Spencer ran his tongue over his bottom lip. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

“That I believe,” he almost whispered.

You were silent for a moment, before taking another small step towards Spencer.

You took a deep breath.

“(Y/n)? Can I open my eyes now?”

You didn’t answer him, closing the distance between you until you were inches apart.

You took in his features and before you could talk yourself out of it you leaned towards him and placed your lips on his. You felt him tense up.

“You can open them now,” you whispered.

Spencer’s stunned expression lasted only a moment before a heat filled his eyes and suddenly he was kissing you back.

He grabbed your waist with one hand, the other going to rest in your hair as he kissed you harder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as your back found the wall, engulfing you in the sea of coats.

“God, (Y/n),” Spencer mumbled against your lips.

You gripped him harder. This moment was everything you imagined it would be. This was so much better than the party.

You felt like you could do this for the rest of the night. Because, damn Spencer was a good kisser.

You pressed up against him, deepening the kiss as your nails dug into his shoulder.

Neither one of you noticed the closet door opening.

“(Y/n) was right, it is hot in here,” a voice was saying, but you and Spencer were too wrapped up in each other to notice.

“They can afford an indoor fountain but not a air cond—”

You heard a cry of surprise as the closet door opened fully. You and Spencer pulled apart, gasping as you looked up at Tommy, who looked just as horrified to see you as you were to see him.

“Well,” Tommy started, “I was just saying how hot it was out there, but it seems it’s much hotter in here.”

You and Spencer looked at each other, grinning sheepishly. You were still breathless. You noticed you were standing on a coat that must’ve been knocked from its hanger.

“It’s kind of a long story,” you started.

“Basically there’s some guy out there attacking people with punch,” Spencer finished, looking at you, eyes sparkling.

“I’ll be on the lookout,” Tommy said, a confused look on his features.

You couldn’t stop smiling at Spencer.

“Well,” Tommy clapped his hands together, “I guess I’ll—leave you to it. Have fun.”

“And tell me all about it later,” he mock-whispered to you.

He started to shut the closet door before turning around.

“Oh and (Y/n)?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you toss me my coat?” He gestured to the one that was currently under your foot. You hadn’t even recognized it as his in the dim lighting of the room.

That, and you’d been a bit distracted. Your heart leapt just thinking about what Tommy had interrupted. Your hand found Spencer’s in the dark

“I thought you said it was hot out there?” You asked, throwing his sweater to him.

“It is,” he sighed, “But my keys are in the pocket.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Angela and I are going to go buy a cake.”

“Does that woman think of anything else?” You laughed

“Pick us up some olives,” Spencer threw in, blinking up at him.

“Why not,” Tommy shrugged, “let’s hit all the stores in California.”

“You sure you won’t miss the party?” You asked him.

“Nah, I was gonna bounce anyway. I accidentally shoved some guy pretty hard in the back earlier, but I don’t think he knows it was me. I don’t want to test my luck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this!! look out for more spencer fics in the near future 🫶 also bonus points if you found the himym reference 🤭

#spencer agnew #spencer agnew x reader #smosh x reader #smosh #smosh imagine #smosh fanfiction #tommy bowe #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader

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gibberishfangirl · 6 months ago

Note

Hello:3 can I request Windbreaker boys with lack of physical touch reader but more to give gift type ! Thank you

WIND BREAKER | love langauge: giving gifts

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of how the boys react with a partner who’s love language is giving gifts

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Akihiko Nirei, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! cute content of the boys receiving gifts from their partners

★ this is such a cute request! hope you enjoy <3 ★

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

✧₊⁺ doesn’t mind that you’re not touchy

✧₊⁺ he’s slightly glad since he struggles with affection

✧₊⁺ blushes whenever you go up to him with a new gift especially if it’s something you handmade yourself

✧₊⁺ doesn’t show too much of a reaction in person

✧₊⁺ he’s secretly geeking on the inside from your gifts

✧₊⁺ cherishes all your gifts

✧₊⁺ has a special box kept under his bed full of all the small things you’ve gifted him during the relationship

✧₊⁺ if you ever happen to gift him an accessory or small keychain he’ll clip it to his keys

✧₊⁺ after noticing this you gifted him a lot of small keychains which he clips onto his keys

✧₊⁺ his keys are literally hidden underneath all the other keychains you’ve given him

✧₊⁺ he blushes if anyone ever brings it up

✧₊⁺ “aw Sakura did (y/n) give you this?” “shut up, mind your own business.”

✧₊⁺ will get annoyed and defensive if anyone makes a sly comment about anything you’ve given him

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

✧₊⁺ he’s very understanding about it

✧₊⁺ always has to fight the urge to want to suffocate you in hugs since he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

✧₊⁺ is very careful with your boundaries

✧₊⁺ has the biggest grin on his face whenever you bring him surprise gifts

✧₊⁺ his heart flutters once he saw you started to buy him seeds and pots for his plants

✧₊⁺ he thinks it’s very sweet how you notice his interests and contribute towards them

✧₊⁺ thinks your the sweetest person on earth when you offer to help him plant all the new plants you’ve got for him

✧₊⁺ you both spend hours on his garden together working on it

✧₊⁺ he always catches himself zoning off while smiling at you like a love struck man

✧₊⁺ loves the quality time you spend with each other

✧₊⁺ shows off his new plants and flowers to all his friends

✧₊⁺ sends you constant updates on how the new plants are doing along with development photos

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

✧₊⁺ he thinks it’s cute

✧₊⁺ loves how thoughtful you are

✧₊⁺ notices how observant you are

✧₊⁺ he assumed gift giving was your love language from seeing how you act around your friends

✧₊⁺ didn’t expect that one day he’d be the one receiving a gift from you

✧₊⁺ even he can’t fight off a small blush

✧₊⁺ is very happy whenever you give him something

✧₊⁺ protects the item as if his life depends on it

✧₊⁺ expect him to have the smallest blush with a cheeky smile whenever you greet him with a gift

✧₊⁺ he’s never been on the receiving end of this so he finds the change to be nice

✧₊⁺ cherishes everything you give him

✧₊⁺ will become more observant of you

✧₊⁺ will want to find nice gifts for you as well

✧₊⁺ starts to buy matching items for the two of you

✧₊⁺ buys more minuscule things like keychains or small figures for you

Akihiko Nirei ᡣ𐭩

✧₊⁺ thinks it’s so so so nice!!

✧₊⁺ he’s never experienced anything like it before so his heart flutters each time

✧₊⁺ he’s lwk very emotional about having someone who cares about him so much

✧₊⁺ will stare in awe of your gift for at least a minute

✧₊⁺ always wants to give you something in return so you can know how much he appreciates you

✧₊⁺ holds it very close to his heart (both figuratively and literally)

✧₊⁺ has the biggest grin on his face for the rest of his day

✧₊⁺ Suo will slightly coo at the cuteness

✧₊⁺ “how sweet Nirei, you must really be happy” “i am”

✧₊⁺ literally nothing can bring him down after

✧₊⁺ he’s the kind of person who’s literally kicking their feet and giggling about it

✧₊⁺ grows a new obsession with the item you give him

✧₊⁺ puts everything you give him on display on a shelf he has in his room

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

✧₊⁺ it’s very new for him

✧₊⁺ he gets a little shy whenever you give him something that falls more under the cutesy area

✧₊⁺ the very tip of his ears will turn slightly red

✧₊⁺ sometimes he doesn’t think he’s worthy of your gifts

✧₊⁺ doesn’t have an over top of the reaction in person

✧₊⁺ is gushing on the inside and internally screaming

✧₊⁺ will always give you a small smile in response that only you ever see

✧₊⁺ Choji thinks the gifts you give him are so cute and claims he wants one

✧₊⁺ “huhhh??! (y/n) got you that? i want one!”

✧₊⁺ “let me see it!” “no, go away it’s mine.”

✧₊⁺ literally will fight Choji for the gift if dares to try to take it

✧₊⁺ is very defensive over his prize possession

✧₊⁺ Choji doesn’t even actually want the gift he just likes to get a rise out of Togame

✧₊⁺ will secretly go shopping for something to get you in return

✧₊⁺ doesn’t understand how someone as nice as you can ever be into him considering his past

✧₊⁺ is very happy to be with you and that he found someone who loves him

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

✧₊⁺ the happiest boy on earth

✧₊⁺ literally puppy behavior ngl

✧₊⁺ has the biggest smile on his face

✧₊⁺ his eyes shine brightly in awe at the item as he holds it up to examine it

✧₊⁺ you can actually see the light enter his eyes

✧₊⁺ his reaction makes you more flustered

✧₊⁺ shows it off to all his friends

✧₊⁺ “TOGAMEEE! look what (y/n) got me!” “that’s nice, Choji.” (you hear this exact conversation happen 50x that day)

✧₊⁺ Togame slightly gets annoyed at Choji telling him as if he hasn’t told him a thousand times already, but he’s glad he sees his friend be so happy

✧₊⁺ he makes sure you’re aware of how happy he is with your gift

✧₊⁺ expresses his gratitude all day

✧₊⁺ will buy you lunch in return

✧₊⁺ cherishes everything you give him

✧₊⁺ you’ll catch him just looking at the item and smiling to himself throughout the day

✧₊⁺ his smiles make everything worth it to you

a/n <3 : to everyone who was wondering, i am accepting requests at this time. however, i do have a lot in the works so i apologize in advance if it takes me awhile to get to it or publish it :’D i will try putting out my requested posts as soon as i can 🩷 please be patient with me i really appreciate it!

#divider by anitalenia #hayato suo #suo hayato x reader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #nirei akihiko #nirei akihiko x reader #choji tomiyama #choji tomiyama x reader #jo togame #jo togame x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka #sakura haruka x reader

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avelera · 15 days ago

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Your take on Fem!Jayce was inspiring and so carefully thought out - it was very nice to read with so much of the fandom calling him h(b)imbo, I swear, people can be frustrating.

I've always found him fascinating exactly because he exhibits what (at least to me) would be considered feminine qualities - he wants to be agreeable, make his parental figures proud, he's absolutely the preppiest of girls even when he's Masc!Jayce, and he just wants to be a caregiver. None of these are per-se purely feminine, of course, but we can consider them as traditionally expected of women rather than men (it was baffling to me to see how many people headcanon him as butch femme), That's what captivates me in him, plus the fact that I rarely see it mentioned, but usually "infuriatingly beautifull" women (in academia, STEM, and frankly, in general) do suffer from prejudice based on their appearance, and it's funny (in a non-fun way) that he will surely be struggling with something similar because of his physicality (as fem or masc) and so few people talk about it (other than the people who effectively judge him in exactly that way).

That said, I'd be super interested to hear your thoughts on Fem!Viktor - as I see him as the one in the duo with more "traditionally" masculine qualities, or at least - if not traditional - then at least more well received in male characters than female - melancholic, almost byronic type, snarky, stubborn, sometimes arrogant, and socially inadept - or plain uninterested (I'm listing all these with absolute adoration).

Obviously ignore the Fem!Viktor question if you're not interested in that type of headcanon :)

Oh man, I’m so glad you liked my take on Fem Jayce! I was kind of worried posting it because people can be touchy about that stuff but yeah, Jayce to me always sat at the prep table when he’d rather be at the nerd table. Or like… got dragged to the prep table so to speak when he’d rather be playing D&D. And the idea of the fem version of that experience for the upsettingly hot girl in STEM who everyone projects onto as being a bitch when she’s really just a nerd is just… very charming and apropos to Jayce for me.

As for Viktor, I think the joke is that fem and masc Viktor are literally the same person and I sort of agree with that.

Consider we mostly see women in dresses and skirts in Piltover but not in Zaun. Zaun in general seems more gender egalitarian in the way people dress and it would be cool to see fem Viktor reflect that in a way that sort of sticks out in preppy Piltover.

That said, if we only see Jayce dressed as an academic or as a scion of House Talis, we REALLY only ever see Viktor as an academic. His one outfit ever is his uniform (or that blanket lol). And I think there’s an element of armor to it. He might be from the Undercity but he’s a Piltover Academy academic first and foremost. It’s camouflage and protection.

So I see fem Viktor as maybe always wearing the school uniform too but the trousers version for comfort and because of being a Zaunite. Perhaps also because of poverty, as the nicest outfit she has (sort of canon to him being snuck in by his parents buying him a uniform and sneaking him in). (Whereas Fem Jayce wears the skirt version because she’s trying to project socially acceptable femininity for Piltover.)

I don’t see fem Viktor as bothering with makeup or long hair, especially when she gets increasingly sick. So again, almost exactly the same appearance.

But I do love to picture fem Viktor and fem Jayce geeking out together. The image of the hyper beautiful preppy girl with her proper but formal Zaunite friend who is nowhere near as put together but still has a dignity to her just charms me to the core. Especially if it��s fem Jayce who no one has ever asked out before because she’s so hot just who in turn is pining after fem Viktor, thinking she doesn’t have a chance because no one has ever asked her out before for some reason. Like jsut the visual incongruity of it is so appealing. The fact that everyone thinks fem Jayce is a mean girl until they see her best friend that she’d literally die for is that Viktor girl who is sick all the time and scarily brilliant and those two just stay up at all hours talking science like… that gender swap with preppy fem perfect Jayce is much more interesting to me than just making fem Jayce masculine because he’s incidentally masculine, especially since as you noted he doesn’t actually project many butch or masculine qualities except incidentally.

#fem Jayce #fem Viktor #arcane #jayvik

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mariacallous · 7 months ago

Text

I plan on voting for Biden in November. But it’s terrible. A vote for him is still a vote that will not significantly improve our deepest and most troubling social problems. He won’t give us Medicare for All or any other badly needed boosts to social programs. He will probably continue to support policies that actively oppress BIPOC. He will not help us. He’s also a sexual predator. Truly, I do not want to vote for this man. This is not the man I wanted to vote for. I don’t want him in office. He is simply not good enough. This man doesn’t represent what I want at all.

But if I don’t vote for Biden in November, I feel like I’m making it that much easier for Trump to win another election. And I want that even less than I want a Biden presidency. I don’t want another 4 years of what we have now. No fucking way. No.

I’m so conflicted. I feel like there is blood on my hands. I feel like I’m casting a vote for death and misery if I’m not voting for a progressive candidate with a progressive platform. I feel like I’m committing nothing short of an atrocity no matter what I choose to do. I don’t want to harm people, and yet, won’t I essentially be doing exactly that? I just want to do the right thing. I don’t want to bring harm, or perpetuate harm towards anyone.

Trump will probably win anyway. He’s doing all he can to ensure that, and it will probably work. The impending climate disaster will kill us all because we will clearly continue to do nothing. Our bodies will be riddled with micro and nanoplastics. America will become an even more of an inhospitable police state.

Nobody will hold Biden accountable for anything if he wins, and he’ll never give us the public policies we desperately need.

“Is this what hope feels like? I’d forgotten,” you tweeted recently. How? And for what? I see nothing but bad things to come. I feel a deep sense of hopelessness and despair.

There are plenty of reasons to feel hopelessness and despair right now, but with regard to Joe Biden, you are wasting a whole bunch of negative emotions on a giant pile of shitty beliefs that just aren’t true.

First, and let me be very clear on this one, Joe Biden is not a sexual predator. He’s just not. Believe me, I would be shouting it from the rooftops if I thought he were. When Tara Reade went public, I took her allegations very seriously. I gave her extra helpings of the benefit of the doubt, but it turned out there was a mountain of evidence suggesting that Reade has always been a lying, manipulative grifter (which I didn’t want to be true), and there was another mountain of evidence suggesting that the predatory behavior alleged by Reade is simply not in Biden’s character (which I was very reluctant to trust). There was a time when I was hopeful that Reade’s accusations might even knock Biden out of the race, but I’m not the kind of person who believes a thing merely because I want it to be true. It’s fine if you want to criticize Biden for what appears to be a history of awkward or retrospectively inappropriate behavior. Hell, you can even buy into all that “Creepy Uncle Joe” bullshit, but you’re just plain wrong if you insist that Joe Biden is a sexual predator. (Obviously, the same cannot be said of Donald Trump, who is a straight-up serial rapist with a list of at least twenty-five women who have publicly and credibly accused him of sexual assault.)

As for your policy concerns, I understand your frustration. I would love to be voting for a far-left ultra-progressive firebrand of a candidate in the upcoming general election. That would feel wonderful, right up until the moment that she loses in a landslide, and I guarantee you, a far-left ultra-progressive candidate would get her ass handed to her by Trump. That’s not an outcome we can afford as a species, much less as a nation. You understand this, which is why you still plan on voting for Biden. Good. I’m really glad you’re not being a purist asshole about this. The evil garbage monsters in the GOP just love a left-wing purist who refuses to vote responsibly. Republicans are desperately praying to their imaginary white Jesus that all the Green Party crunch bars will fuck it up for the rest of us like they did back in 2016. We cannot let that happen again.

Listen, I’m not gonna try and convince you to like Joe Biden. You’re already gonna vote for him, so I’m perfectly fine if you hate his breathing guts. What I do want from you is a little maturity, some vision, and a realistic sense of scale. No one candidate will ever be the solution to our problems — not Bernie, not Liz, and certainly not Joe. At best, a candidate is a vector, a course correction, a desperately needed step in the right direction. That’s all we can expect from Biden, and he is bringing it. He’s bringing it every single day with a list of policy positions that are more progressive than any President’s in the history of the United States, and he most certainly brought it with the selection of Kamala Harris as his running mate.

Biden recognizes his place in history. He knows he is little more than a national stop-gap, a post-Trump tourniquet to stanch the bleeding. His Vice-Presidency and eventual Presidency will be a line of demarcation between two very distinct chapters of American history. This is more than just bridging the Boomer/Millennial generational divide. In the distant future (if we have one), it is my sincerest hope that Biden will be remembered as “The Last of the Old White Men,” a happy warrior who marked the end of a certain kind of Modern America and who helped usher in a new kind of Postmodern America. Those terms are clunky and loaded and absolutely will not stand the test of time, but we’re not the ones who get to name what we’re about to become. We’re the ones who have to keep doing the hard work to finally get us there, and that’s why I really need you to change your whole fucking attitude.

This shit is going to be grueling. The fight will be brutal if not bloody, and there is absolutely no room for whiners and layabouts. You want to improve our deepest and most troubling social problems? Great. Quit moaning about doing harm with your vote and go do some actual good with your own two fucking hands. Pulling a lever in a voting booth every couple years is the bare minimum. In terms of civic duty, it is the absolute least you can do. Of course Biden won’t give us Medicare for All. Neither would Sanders or Warren. That’s not how any of this works. Presidents don’t give us shit. We do it ourselves. We demand it, loudly and with force, and over long stretches of time, with enough solidarity and sustained action, laws are enacted and policies change.

I was around when the Clintons tried deadlifting their universal health care plan off the ground back in 1993. Maybe you remember it, maybe you weren’t even born yet, but that’s how long this shit takes. It’ll have been three fucking decades and two fucking generations of Democrats trying desperately to kick that gutbucket up Capitol Hill by the time we finally get around to some semblance of a single payer healthcare system. Thirty fucking years, my friend. That’s the kind of patience and perseverance the American experiment demands of us, so quit your fucking whining. Enough with all the pearl-clutching and hand-wringing. Take all your conflicted navel gazing bullshit and toughen the fuck up, buttercup.

You are on the right side of history. You are with the good guys. Quit your fucking bitching, and get out there and help us win.

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