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⊹ ❀ ︵ ∘ destined ⟢
pairing singledad! zach maclaren x nanny! female reader
summary after you find out you’re pregnant, you tell zach and prepare to share the news together.
this is a continuation blurb of this two-shot! requested by anon.
You impatiently check the time on your phone again. It’s been fourteen minutes since you sat down in the private room at the doctor’s office.
Your eyes travel over the lockscreen photo from your wedding half a year ago. In the captured moment, Zach is holding Ella. Her left arm is around her father’s shoulders and her right is around yours.
Her poofy dress is sparkling under the warm banquet hall lights, her smile just as big as yours and Zach’s.
You’d done a lot of happy crying that day, but a moment after the photo was taken, you’d never had tears of joy quite like this.
Ella had run off after the shutter of the photographer’s camera and Zach pulled you in by the waist, his lips soft against your cheek, murmuring just loud enough to be heard over the music and people dancing around you, “You know what she asked me this morning?”
“What?”
“Since I get to call you my wife, if she can call you her mommy.”
You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, tearing up as he held you tighter. She had just turned seven years old and still didn’t talk about her biological mother all that much. She also hadn’t called you anything other than your name.
Zach had told you he’d be comfortable with it if Ella grew to want to call you her mom. You’d told him you’d be, too, but that you hoped she didn’t think you were ever trying to replace anyone.
“Really?” you said, your hand over your heart. “What’d you say?”
“I said she can,” he replied. You pulled back to meet his eyes, beaming up at him, almost in disbelief that three years ago, you’d knocked on his door for the first time. You could have never known the turn your life would take.
“You love her like she’s yours,” he said, his eyes glossy, “and she loves you the same way. I’m so happy she has you.”
You squeezed his hand. He’d already reassured you many times that you weren’t taking the place of Ella’s mother or being a substitution for what she lost. Instead, you’re an addition to their lives.
“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he said. The tears he was trying to hold back fell from his eyes and he chuckled defeatedly. “Who’s cried more today, do you think?”
“I’d say it’s even,” you said with a laugh.
The door opening pulls you out of the memory. You meet the doctor’s eyes, your heart thrumming.
You and Zach had been trying for a baby for four months now. You didn’t even have to ask Ella what she thought about gaining a sibling. She’d been asking for one for a long time now.
After a string of failed attempts, you prefer not to tell Zach every time you take a test. You can see the disappointment in his eyes, no matter how hard he tries to hide it behind a gentle, “The baby just wants to make us wait.”
A couple of nights ago, when the home test you secretly took showed two lines, you booked a blood test to be sure. The doctor starts her sentence with Congratulations and you exhale a shaky breath of relief.
────୨ৎ────
Later that day, you’re folding laundry in the living room while Ella’s at school. Zach gets home from an early practice and beams when he sees you, dropping his bag on the floor.
“Hi, baby,” he says. “How are you?”
“Good. How was training?”
“I’m getting old,” he chuckles, stretching his arms over his head. You laugh.
Zach had already decided that after eight years, this is his last season professionally playing. He was offered a position on the coaching team after he told his managers he’d be resigning. He’s ready to slow down, to work a job that doesn’t have such a high risk of injury, to have more time for his family.
He sits next to you, takes the t-shirt out of your hands, folds it and then puts it on the stack on the table so that you’re free to hug him. You giggle as he leans forward and pushes you back against the couch. He’s hovering over you, his cheek pressed on yours as he hugs you, smelling like his body wash.
Zach lives for these simple moments. Getting home to you, holding you, grounding himself and reminding himself that this is what life is about.
“Hey, how’s your day look six Mondays from now?” you ask.
“That’s specific,” he laughs. “I’ll have to check. Why?”
“I’d prefer it if you came to the ultrasound with me.”
He pulls back, searching your face in awe.
“What?” he whispers. “Are you… What?”
“I am,” you laugh, tears building in your eyes, stroking his soft hair.
“When did you…?”
“This morning,” you say. “I didn’t want to tell you in case it came back negative.”
“I’m…” Zach doesn’t have words. He leans forward, gently pressing his lips against yours, shuffling quickly so he doesn’t put any weight on you.
“It’s okay,” you laugh. “You won’t break us.”
“Us,” he repeats happily, his voice cracking. He looks down at your stomach, gently putting his hand on you. “It’s okay that you made us wait,” he whispers to the baby. “I already know you were worth it. Are you being gentle with your mom?”
He looks up at you, a flash of concern washing over his awestruck face.
“I’m a little more tired than usual,” you say. “But nothing crazy yet.”
“I can’t believe it,” Zach sighs. He sniffles, his heart racing with happiness as his eyes fill with tears. “I can’t believe it.”
“I know,” you breathe. “Me, neither. We can give her the book soon.”
Zach smiles. He’d bought a children’s book a few months back about becoming a big sister for when it was time to tell Ella a baby was on the way.
Having known you for nearly four years now, he was already well aware of how pure your heart is. But the fact that your first thought is to tell Ella is yet another reminder of how you’ve always seen yourself as not only sharing your life with him, but with her, too.
“Gonna be hard not to do it right away,” he says.
“Do you have any idea how hard these last three hours have been?” you laugh. “I couldn’t wait to tell you. But we’ll share the news with her after the first trimester. To be safe.”
“Of course,” he agrees, cupping your face and pulling you in for another tender kiss.
────୨ৎ────
By the three month mark, your appetite has grown and fatigue has hit you hard. When the day comes to tell Ella, you’re bursting with excitement to tell her the news.
After dinner, you sit on the couch, already used to Zach quietly telling you to sit down and not do any housework.
Ella’s doing homework at the coffee table as you help. You gaze at her as she concentrates on her writing and remember the four-year-old she was when you first walked into this house.
She’s nearly eight now and still has so many of the qualities you’d first noticed about her. She’s energetic and loves conversation and never hesitates to show affection.
Zach comes in from cleaning up after dinner and raises his eyebrows at you, discreetly holding the book. You nod to confirm you’re ready, nervous.
He sits next to you, taking one last moment to look at you and at his daughter, accepting that this is the last moment the three of you will have like this. His family is growing now, and it feels like his heart is, too.
“Is it two R’s? Or one?” Ella mumbles, the pencil in her hand. She looks up when you don’t answer, too busy trying not to cry as you watch her. “Are you okay, mommy?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I’m okay. Can you sit with us for a moment?”
Ella nods, running towards you. Zach stops her in his arms before she lands too close to you. You laugh, having already told him privately that she’s never rough enough to hurt the baby, but he can’t be too careful.
“I have a book for you,” Zach says, kissing Ella on the temple as she sits between you. “Can you tell me what you think?”
He hands her the purple hardcover.
“What’s it called?” you ask.
“Big Sisters Are The Best,” she reads. She curiously opens the page, gazing over the illustrations of a little girl with a baby.
“Thank you,” she says politely. “I’ll tell my friend Kaley about this book. Maybe she can borrow it. She’s a big sister.”
You chuckle, meeting Zach’s eyes. He rubs Ella’s back and tells her, “You’re going to be a big sister, too, honey.”
Ella’s gaze darts up to him, then to you, then back again.
“Really?” she says. Zach’s face brightens with endearment, eyes growing shiny with tears.
“Really?” she repeats, looking at you.
“Really,” you say, putting a hand over your stomach. “That’s why I keep going back for seconds at dinner lately. There’s a baby in here making me extra hungry.”
Ella stands up, unable to contain her happiness, jumping up and down in her spot a few times before wrapping you into a hug. You laugh as she wiggles in your arms.
Zach wipes his eyes, still unsure of what he did to deserve this sort of happiness. It’s like he’s in another world, experiencing a type of joy reserved specifically for him.
“This is the best day ever,” she says. “And you’re the best mommy ever and daddy’s the best daddy ever.”
“He is,” you agree, looking at him with pure love.
────୨ৎ────
“You’re such a girl dad,” you say amusedly when you go into Ella’s bedroom.
Zach’s sitting on the floor as Ella adds what looks like the twentieth clip in his hair, while he holds Olivia, who’s happily ripping up a piece of paper.
He smiles at you gratefully. Your one-year-old is exactly how Ella was at that age. Curious, smiley, and eager to make messes wherever she can. He knows you’re technically a blended family, but it has never felt like that.
“Ella, can you do mine next?” you ask.
“After Olivia,” she says happily. “I told her she’s next and I have to keep my promise.”
“Of course,” you say. “She’s lucky to have such a nice big sister.”
“Ebba,” Olivia babbles.
“Ella,” Ella corrects. You laugh. It feels like yesterday, you’d just met her and Zach, and he was correcting her on how she’d called him the bestest. Now, she’s growing before your eyes, already so mature and well-mannered.
“But Ebba’s okay,” Ella says with a smile. She leans to give her little sister a kiss on the forehead, earning a giggle from her, clapping for more.
You sit on the floor next to Zach, squeezing his knee lovingly as your daughters laugh together. He takes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it.
“And to think,” you joke, “we wouldn’t be here if I bombed my interview.”
Zach laughs, shaking his head as he kisses your hand again.
“No,” he says. “This is how life was meant to be. You would have found us, no matter what. I know it.”
You grin at him, nodding in agreement.
Sitting here with his wife and daughters is the definition of destiny. Zach knows deep in his soul that he was always fated to be right here, with his heart split between three beautiful girls.
(the end)
if you enjoy a fic, reblogging is the best way to thank and support the writer!
#zach maclaren and you#zach maclaren and y/n#zach maclaren and reader#zach maclaren x you#zach maclaren x y/n#zach maclaren x reader
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Theres no words that can describe the complete alienation of having severe long covid. One infection, caused directly by political decisions to remove public measures, and i cant walk. Can't stand except on really good days which are getting rarer. Sitting is a privilege i dont always have. Cognitive work is too much of a risk to consider for the moment. I live in constant fear of going back to being utterly bed ridden in the sense that i cant even feed myself, drink water, speak, move my limbs beyong my fingers and toes. For days and days without relief.
Nothing feels real. Every gain can be lost in a literal second. And on top of this, the fear of reinfection. The very real possibility of death, given how weak a single infection has made me when I was healthy and young. The even more real possibility of a worsened state, where there are no good days. That means death, too. If i am constantly in a state where I cannot move, i am going to have to resort to euthanasia because it is not a bearable existence. I can barely tolerate it when it know it will end. Last time was 14 days and I am still so traumatized by it 2 months later nothing feels real.
And on top of that, i am being told that my life doesnt matter. Covid is not a real concern. Let it fester. Even if the stairs in my building didnt lock me in, all public spaces have become lethal to me. I cant see my friends because they cant avoid exposure when theres a wave. To love me, you must live in a horrific world where no matter how many precautions you take, no matter how much they ostracize you, you might still cause my death.
Covid is a privileged issue they say. Im not even in the room for it bc i cannot be in the room. You can move your body, youre not afraid of death, you havent lost everything that makes you *you*, but im the privileged one. I cant even emote the way i used to. If i get too excited, too happy, i cant move. I talked to countless people who cant work anymore, are losing their jobs their houses their partners their immigration permits but no. Covid doesnt matter. I dont matter. Everyone cheered when i got covid bc they got to party for new years eve. I hope it was a good party. I will never agree that it was worth my life.
For the past 2 years ive had to share classrooms with students and professors who know everything about my story, who have seen how disabled i am by long covid, who ive begged to mask. They all refuse to mask. And i have to sit there and pretend its not a cosmical level farce that theyre talking about social justice and ethics and just what good people they all are. Not to mention that most of them have revealed themselves to be zionists. I have to sit next to an iof soldier and act as if its ok that she gets to sit in this classroom, except im not even sitting in the room because cases are too high and im too weak to be there physically anyway, so im on zoom. At least i get to remove my earbuds when she speaks so i dont have to think about the atrocities she has committed.
#long covid#complete loss of faith in the future#no one cares if i live or die even among leftists#i cant even be in the room anymore to be seen#its been almost 3 years of living in the most horrific reality#this summer has been so. dehumanizing#please care. please wake up. no matter where you are.#covid#btw if youre queer and you pretend to care about aids but dont a give a shit about covid. i hate you personally 🧡 do better#ive found extraordinary resemblance between my despair and the despair of people dying during aids. we are the same.#except their community started giving a shit. when will you#also people with mecfs who had it before covid im holding your hand we're in the same boat my future is your future
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a very exhausted hunter
It had been a long day for the hunter as well as for the leader of Onychinus. As the person on the leather vest louged on the love couch, the woman in black and red went from side to side, the cheeky crow on her right shoulder, acting as a third pair of eyes - even without a need to, so used to the task was the mechanical bird.
“So, you’re just gonna enjoy the comforts of my house and not even tell me what’s gotten you in such state?” asked Sy from the kitchen, in a voice that denounced a hint of playfulness despite the serious tone of her captivating voice.
The hunter shifted their position and rested their head on the bent arm, now sending glances to the other room of the gothic mansion, a sigh escapes despite their attempts to remain as quiet as possible; after all, this was not their home - even if the woman did nothing to shoo them away; quite the opposite, actually, invited them in at any chance; and they had to really use a convincing excuse to leave.
“It’s the same as usual”, their lips form every syllable slowly, their eyes closing softly as the incandescent lights of the rich lamps lulled them to a calm state.
The clicking of heels announced her presence in the study - on of the many rooms the hunter had been while staying in the company of the Sy; and admitedly, their favorite right after the king size bathroom.
“Well, you’re not usually resting in such an uncomfortable position, look at how your arm is bent!”
The hunter’s eyes locked on Sy’s, the red ocean was deeper than any scar the lounging person had; thankfully, she was not using her evol to extract the truth here.
“It’s part of the job...” they said in a tired tone; and after welcoming a yawn they continued, never loking away from Sy’s form - which now had found a place on the seat right in front of the exhausted hunter -, “it’s just endless, you know... I’m sick of killing, no matter what it is.”
There was such a truth to their statement, Sy never thought they would see in the usually bright and naive hunter. A smile of understanding sat on her defined lips, “it’s just as I told you, you’re more than welcome to stay... and to leave the association of yours. I swear, they will grind you to dust.” She sounded defeated, already hearing their determined speech about saving lives, and sacrifice for the greater good, blah, blah, blah. Her eyes were already closing, announcing a headache from having to listen to it; her fingers massaging her temples.
However, what followed was silence, absolute silence; like the one right after a successful cleaning.
And the woman looked at them, expectant eyes and a slight confused frown of brows; her lips twitching to ask ���aren’t you gonna preach?’
Instead what came was a focused frown in the hunter’s expression, a calculated movement of their body to sit, and then after a few false starts, they murmur to themselves - yet, the silver-haired woman heard it all, due to her proximity, and infatuation with the hunter.
“You might have a point, Sy. Maybe it’s time I bail...”, then, they were staring deeply into her eyes; as if absorbing her. And people said she had intense eyes.
Sy was about to ask the hunter to repeat themselves, she knew this was not a dream; she had never had pleasant dreams. This... this was everything she had ever wanted to hear.
“My doors are always open, sweetie”, she smiled and her body moved like a wild cat as she sauntered to the love seat, “if you worked for me, you wouldn’t have to get your hands dirty. Ever.”
Her lips held a dangerous promise; and her eyes drew the hunter in. As if hypnotized, they heard ‘devour her, devour her, devour her, devour her, devour her’ non-stop. Each time, the deeper version of their voice would drown them further; leading the hunter closer - mentally and phisically - to the alluring presence of the leader. A hue of burgundy was born from their shared glances.
All of the unspoken words ceased to exist on both of their minds as the warmth of the leader and the hunter’s mingled, hands threw caution and reservation to the air; a crash of teeth, lips and tongues filled the air with unresatrined passion.
The hunter made little to no effort; Sy being the driving force that reached and set the course of their journey; it did not mean the hunter laid passively, they responded with fervor of their own to every touch.
A lughter bubbled from the woman’s chest, “plus, I pay better”. Her tone was filled with teasing, but her eyes softened, full of rewarding affection.
The hunter under her threw their head back, a soft smile finally resting on their lips, “health insurance included?” A mirth gleamed on their purple orbs, their time to tease.
“Sweetie, with me you won’t even need it”. Another feverish kiss took their shared breath away. And another touch that tipped the balance further inside the hunter’s already hazy mind.
“When do i start?” From this angle, the woman could see their somewhat sharp canines; which prompted her to bite their jaw.
With a satisfacted smirk, Sy cooed, “how about now?”
The soft grip on Sy’s head and the earnest kiss she got sealed the contract, “i hope it’ll be long term. I’m not willing to let this job go.” They mused in a gruff tone.
The night was teeming with breathy assurances and pleasure sounds; the only other sound was the approving caw, caw, caw of the ever-present Mephisto, now perched on the bust of some Greek goddess. The zone had become delightfully quiet, and it would take the sunlight to finally tear the lovers apart.
A.N.: This is a fanfic for Love and Deepspace. All the rights are reserved to Infold. This is only meant for entertainment and appreciation for the world of Lnds. Please, do not repost, copy or translate. Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Enjoy.
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Euphemia and James - Writer's Notes
Earlier this year I wrote a fic titled "Euphemia and James," a story exploring Euphemia Potter and infertility. This is the most deeply personal story I've ever written, and it took a few weeks to write it because of the emotions it stirred up for me, but honestly, being able to write this took years of processing emotions. I decided to share some of my notes on this fic in this post, and it includes this lovely cover image from @livelaughlovetoread. This story is also unique in that it's written in second person POV. It wasn't intended to come out that way, but that's how it came out. See below the image for my notes:
Euphemia and James came from these lines from the extra-canonical writings on Pottermore/whatever they call it these days:
"[Fleamont] sold the company at a vast profit when he retired, but no amount of riches could compensate him or his wife Euphemia for their childlessness. They had quite given up hope of a son or daughter when, to their shock and surprise, Euphemia found that she was pregnant and their beloved boy, James, was born."
If you don't know anything about infertility, I envy you somewhat. Studies have shown that a diagnosis or experience of infertility is similar to receiving a cancer diagnosis or losing a close loved one. It took me a while to realize that a lot of the feelings I had surrounding infertility was actually grief and mourning.
So, I put it all into this fic. There are a few points I want to highlight, if you decide to read the fic or want to see some lines, and my feelings around it all:
"When you meet Fleamont Potter a year into your job at the apothecary, you have no intention of marrying him."
I more or less shamelessly wrote Euphemia and Fleamont's relationship to be similar to mine with Mr C. In fact, Mr C aka @rawr-gorg-smash read this work and we were both sobbing messes by the end of it.
"It will happen when it happens, they say. It will come when you least expect it, they say. That’s what everyone says, and you’re ready to punch the next person in the face who tells you to just “relax.”"
Infertile people will get advice like this frequently. It's meant to be helpful or sometimes soothing, I think, but all too often it's an empty hope. Sometimes, bodies just don't work right, no matter how much relaxing you do.
"It’s not polite to ask. Everyone knows where magical, adopted children come from. They are Muggleborn children who are delicately extracted from their birth homes and replaced with Squibs, or sometimes not replaced at all."
This part is world building by me - the idea of adoption in a magical world seemed odd to me. How would infertile magical couples adopt if they can't use potions or charms? I wouldn't put it past them to just take a Muggleborn child, modify memories, and go. I won't touch on real world adoption-there's a lot to unpack there-but this idea gave me some thoughts on magical adoption.
"It seems selfish to want more, when you already have so much. You question, for the first time in your life, if you really want a child."
I have heard people say things to this effect: it's so selfish to want your 'own' children or to want children and bring them into this world, or some variation of that. If this is what you believe, you and I are going to disagree and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise. But it's something I and many other infertile people have considered. The thing is, people have had children and will continue to have children throughout terrible periods of time. Does it make sense? Not necessarily. Human actions don't always make sense. To me, though, it speaks of hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, for a world that we will build that will be better for the next generation.
"Now you wish for a living child. There are no longer any expectations on your baby or the kind of person they’ll be. You want a living, breathing baby in your arms you can dote on, educate, feed, and guide through life."
I'll say that one of the few silver linings of infertility for me has been re-grounding my expectations of what kind of child I might have. It once was wishing for a boy or girl, or a kid who likes to read, or a kid who won't be into extreme sports, but now it's just a kid I want. I want to love them because they exist. That's all.
"It’s a shame that you only got nineteen years with your son, the one you wished had been born twenty years prior, so you could treasure twice as long with him."
One of my fears for having children later in life is not having enough time with them. Then again, young parents die. Even children die. If nothing else, whatever time I do have, I hope I use it to love whatever family I have to the fullest.
That's all I have for now. If you made it this far, read the fic, commented on it, left kudos, or a bookmark, thank you very kindly for your time. Of all the things I've written, this felt most like putting a piece of my heart into the world.
#euphemia potter#fleamont potter#james potter#euphemia x fleamont#cw infertility#infertility#cw pregnancy#pregnancy
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[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]
Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?
[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*
–
Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.
Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!
Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.
* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.
#Pactw#QSMP#Pac#March 18 2024#As much as I love keeping people updated about Pac / the other Portuguese-speaking creators#I think I might not make as many transcribed posts for their clips anymore#I just don't think I'm qualified enough to be transcribing things for a language I don't know#like yeah we have the Qlobal Translator and Aypierre's translators to rely on#And I'm always upfront when I'm not 100% sure about a translation#but I've been thinking about it a lot and it kinda makes me feel a bit icky. Idk.#I might be overthinking this but I just I don't want to spread around translations I'm not super confident about#esp. since I know a lot of people cite my clips in analysis posts or link them to other people as resources#and 90% of the time I'm like ''Hell yeah I love seeing people getting a lot of use out of the archive''#but sometimes I get a bit anxious like ''Did I do a good enough job translating this''#''Am I ruining someone's entire perception of a conversation or character because I left one word out or mistranslated something?''#And like I said that's normally not a HUGE concern since if I'm not certain about a translation I just won't post a clip. but you know#idk it might just be the anxiety talking but I really really don't want to spread bad info#Happy to hear other folks' perspective#I'm really grateful for people like Bell and Pix and others who translate clips and I always try to reblog those#but we don't have a ton of people posting clips & translating things on Tumblr since we're so English-centric#which is part of the reason WHY I like sharing clips of the non-English-speaking CCs#but at the same time I want to do an accurate job representing what they're saying#Maybe I'll just start posting things and give a TLDR context of what they're talking about but not a transcript#that way native-speakers can hop in and add translations if that's something they're comfortable doing#and if not then well. at least I'm not sharing something that isn't super accurate#idk I'm just thinking out loud a bit in the tags#But I'm open to hearing other people's thoughts on the matter#Anyways giant rant aside. q!Pac is NOT doing ok rn
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Alright, this is my last comment on the issue, for real this time.
@nerdykeppie is staffed by unprofessional, rude, cruel people who double down on their entitlement to be unprofessional, rude and cruel in public to their former customers.
You should know the sorts of people you're giving money to if you patronize them. The founder is liable to misread your words, lash out at you in anger over something he misunderstood, and generally behave like a tantruming child even if you go out of your way to be polite and give him the benefit of the doubt when he lashes out at you over his own poor reading comprehension.
I'm done getting into this. No, Spider is not ~required~ to be professional on his (public) personal blog which is closely tied to his business. I just think it's extremely stupid to double down on his "right" to be unprofessional on his public blog when he owns a business that is clearly tied to said public blog, because it reflects very poorly on both his personal character and his business. I think it is hilariously foolish and an extremely poor decision to openly advertise and defend your founder's unprofessionalism, which speaks of general lack of professionalism and poor judgment throughout the whole business, not just from Spider (though his lack of good judgment and public unprofessionalism is the most obvious).
So. Best of luck in the people involved resolving whatever problem in their lives that they're taking out on me, and beware interacting with them in any way because they will absolutely be rude as shit to you and then smear you in public and private for (/checks hand) apologizing for a miscommunication because you didn't mean what they incorrectly interpreted you to mean.
I can't fucking believe they still think they're in the right here and *I* am the one who needs to be ~asked not to contact them again~. You answered me THREE TIMES *after* I had blocked you because you cannot let go of the fact that you were wrong about a stupid fucking plastic pumpkin and the fact that I went OUT OF MY WAY to give you the benefit of the doubt.
(two of those three asks were frantic apologies because I genuinely felt terrible, and they were both met with meanness and scorn and snide insults about my communication failures.
Lol. Me. I'm the one who is failing to communicate and has poor reading comprehension because you misunderstood me and started lashing out like I personally strangled all of your pets for having the filthy nerve to apologize and try to clear it up.
Yeah. I'm the villain here. Sure, Jan.)
I'm done now, but enjoy having your unprofessional, cruel, immature nonsense publicly exposed. I stand by my actions (the ones I actually took in real life, not the fake pretend ones you made up because you misunderstood what I wrote) and I look forward to you experiencing the natural consequences of your own.
Don't give money to childish jerks.
#how fucking dare you lmao#the gall is just mind boggling#nerdykeppie#this is the last time I'm addressing this period.#tagging it only so other people looking at the tag can make informed decisions about whether to give their money elsewhere#you would think a business would give a shit about its founder being an ass in public on the social media site where you get large amounts#of your publicity and advertising but hey#not my funeral!#they can shoot themselves in the foot as many times as they please#but their potential customers should know this is what they do and how they behave!#also loving the incel response of “you turned me down?? well I never wanted to fuck you anyway!!!”#yeah uh huh sure you totally had no plans to use my photos#that's why you asked for my permission to use my photos#but whatever makes you feel soothed from your hissy fit I guess#don't buy from nerdykeppie#keep digging that hole babe you're just making yourself look worse and worse and worse#side note#there is little funnier#than someone throwing an extremely public tantrum#because you (gasp) reported on the words they said and actions they took of their own volition#HOW DARE I SHARE THE THINGS YOU SAY#what a monster I am for making you look so bad by publishing the things you said that are bad!#keep digging that hole I'll keep saving all the screenshots#if I have to involve a lawyer fine#not my fault not my doing not my job to shield a grownass adult business owner from the consequences#of throwing a massive shitfit tantrum in public over being exposed for throwing a massive shitfit tantrum because#and I cannot stress this enough#HE#misunderstood ME#and doubled down when I apologized
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Ep 5!!!
#Episodes that make me go “The author has never talked with a woman ever” 😓😓😓#I don't like how Lucy's character is handled at all. And I feel like I can't talk about it because I'm just going to sound like a bitter–#ss/kk shipper... But I really don't like it. And if it can help my case I'm a multishipper so I really don't take any–#issues with atsu/lucy I like the ship quite a lot actually.#So you're telling me there's this girl... Who meets this boy who pretty much ruined her life by directly causing her to lose her job...#And the next time she sees him she's going to sacrifice her own freedom for him as well as tell him “when you're done doing your things–#come and save me” (longest ewwww ever)... And when she regains freedom (author didn't bother to explain how because they don't care)–#she goes to work... As a waitress at the café beneath his workplace. So he can keep doing his Cool Superpowers Job while she literally–#must serve him every time he visits the place. It's just ?????????????????????????????????#Look‚ I don't dislike Lucy and I feel general affection towards her. It's just that they make her act like no one ever would#Just for the sake of the plot I guess#And like I knoww it's (probably just a little) more nuanced than that. I know Lucy is living her own fairy tale fantasy.#It's just that what I've said about her story is still true‚ you know?#I'm sorry but as sweet as atsu/lucy can be. I really hate the author for making Lucy a waitress. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.#It's so weird. This anime has women writing standards that feel like dating back to the 20s#Same with Katai and the ideal woman tbh. Like why are women to be seen as this abstract impersonal entities? Why can't they just be people?#Ideal for WHO. It's like super screwed up of a concept. What even is an ideal woman? What does it mean to be a woman anyways?#They just want to say “ideal wife”. But women aren't made to be wives their existence isn't functional to another person.#Sorry. I derail. Next episode is going to be even worse on this front ughhhh#Back to the episode: once again it really shows they were running out of budget with this season‚‚‚ the animation looks very suffered#Too many flashback also... I feel bad for the animators tbh#I don't really like the shift in art style :( Not even Atsushi I found particularly pretty this episode my heart cries#The nail pulling thing made me feel like throwing up afhsjyabfsbfwasfvb I feel like I can bear worse gore but there's a couple of little–#specific things I can't stand and this seems to be one of them pffftttt#I like Higuchi I think she's both very funny and cool. I really wish she was explored more (but then again looking at Teruko... )#The relationship between Kunikida and Katai looks so interesting even though we only get glimpses of it. Kunikida regrets Katai leaving–#the ada but is also happy for him but also worries for him. He comes to his house seemingly to check on him and starts cleaning around.#The way he loves him and cherishes their friendship and shared history is really evident and it makes for a compelling dynamic.#Perhaps I should read their short story... In any case. Going to someone's house and compulsively start doing the dishes half out of will–#to help out half because he can't bear the mess sounds a lot like something I'd do lol
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if i might bitch about work for a second: yesterday was hellishly bad despite being able to keep up with it and i found out that apparently our department made 4600 dollars yesterday which is making me angry beyond belieffffffff
#this is math i do fairly often bc i enjoy ho-hum math and hate my job and like#even if we took off 2000 bucks for overhead costs which feels excessive but i will concede it#that would be enough to pay everyone working a little over 860 dollars which is 300 more than what i make in a WEEK#literally WHEREEEEE IS IT WHERE IS IT GOING WHERE IS IT#i dont like following this logic through because on days where there are fewer orders we;d do less#and i disagree with gig work's implementation as ive seen it and i think that would stress people out worse than we already are#(which is significantly)#but at the same time. 850 dollars. i cant afford to buy groceries this week. 850 dollars...#can i get a BONUS or SOMETHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#it makes me soooo angry i was talking to one of the deli guys who asked for a raise and got denied mid-question#before our director accidentally showed him that their department is four thousand of gods own dollars under labor#its so revolting to me i talk to so many people in this store who are terrified because of medical bills or rent or car shit#half my department works two jobs just to get by and ALL OF THEM drive junkers#honestly one of the things thats scaring me about if i actually move out is that i do rely on...living with my mom#i pay for most of my own food i pay an absurd amount of rent to share a room with her but she's willing to drive me to work#even though i've offered to walk multiple times and she REALLY should prioritize her own time more#but at the same time...not having to pay for rides has been carrying me hard#if i got a car i'd be fucked because those things bleed money and generally ethically i disagree with cars#but if i dont its like okay pony up the money learn to navigate buses (except for sunday when they dont run) or get ready#to walk to your job where you walk all day and then walk home in the dark#which. i love walking. and listening to music on my own while walking. so bad example. but i also love not having my feet hurt#all the time always no matter what im doing which is something im becoming increasingly unfamiliar with#its like. ultimately. something's gonna get fucked no matter what#and then i hear a figure like 4600 and i remember how avoidable all of this shit is. how avoidable it is for ANY of us#our ceo is gonna walk away from this merger attempt with 5 billion dollars in safety-cushion money#the 10 top execs beneath him with 1 billion#and its just so. what can you even do. 5 billion. can a number like that even mean anything? how could you possibly need that much#850 dollars would be a lifechanging amount of money for me right now and im not even one of the worst off#its just. god. this world could be anything but what it is but its this and for what
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#I’m just gonna use this blog as a diary because. y’know. I already do. anyway#I don’t know what’s gotten into me recently but I just feel like. like I’m supposed to be ‘further along’ in my life than I am now?#and like. I know it’s bullshit because. the milestones I was told I would hit as I grew older have definitely not been predictable#they tell you you’ll get a job and a car and a significant other and you’ll get married and buy a house and have kids and grow old and die#and it’s like. that’s all we’re given to measure our lives by; these big milestones.. people are supposed to feel accomplished when they hit#but those things are just titles to chapters like. nobody tells us that there’s all this other plot happening between those pages#and so yeah I mean. it feels like I’m not on the right chapter and I really want to skip ahead but like#the truth is. I’m not even to the climax yet. I’m still in the lore-dump stage of ny story#and that’s been so hard for me to accept recently. I’m yearning to be in the chapter where I fall in love and get married#but that’s just it like. that chapter comes earlier in other people’s stories than it seems to be in mine#although I’ve fallen in love many times. I’m not at the ‘get married’ chapter. because it’s not the right part of the story yet#and sometimes I wish I could just find the author of my story and tell them HEY GET ON WITH IT ALREADY because things seem to be moving so#so slowly. and yet they’re moving so fast I simultaneously feel like I’m running out of time#like. why do some people deserve to have co-stars in their stories from almost the very beginning who stick by those protagonists and grow#together? What did I do in my last story to deserve such a lonely one this time around?#Why am I so unlucky that I have good close friends that stick by me and all I know how to do is hold them at arms length because I don’t#think our relationships are quite as deep as I feel that I need out of a relationship?#why is my story about desparately trying to find a place where I feel comfortable enough to belong and share myself with others#and hey. why am I not at that part of my story either?#and maybe it’s that I don’t do enough. as a protagonist my toxic trait is that I’m pathologically suspicious of others#if someone shows interest in me I’m suspicious of why. what are they trying to get from me. because in the past people have taken from me#without giving much back. and if someone wants to date me I’m immediately suspicious of their intentions.#because I’ve realised that there’s much more to being in a relationship than ‘you’re hot let’s fuck’. and I know that’s not what I want#I want to be at the part of my story where I can share myself with someone without worrying that they’re going to take more than I can give.#I want to be at the part of my story where I can trust someone with myself when I’m fragile and they can trust me with themselves as well#I want to be at the part of my story where my life slots together well with someone else’s; so well it just feels normal and right.#I want to be at the part of my story where…I know I could live without this person because we can both take care of ourselves but.#it’s just preferable to spend time and solve problems and exist *together*#and you’ll have to forgive me for saying so but I’ll need physical affection from that person whoever they may be#I feel like certain things are falling into place. I like where I am. now I want to set down roots. and I can’t. I’m not at that page yet.
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i am always invited everywhere & included in everything because i am everyone’s favorite person
11:11 ☆MiracleMakeAWishComeTrueSpell🌙
Eleven-Eleven, This is a call to all angels in heaven, give me a miracle and make my wish come true!
🌜☄⭐🕤🕙🕦⭐🕯🕯📰🎁🎆🎈🎉🎖🔜🔝🔔🕯💰📰💳📧📭🔥🗝🔮🛡🌟☄🌛🌞🌈
Like to Charge, Reblog To Cast spell
#i always have people to do all the things i want to do and they invite me#everything always works out for me exactly how i wanted or better#every day i get healthier & wealthier & happier & luckier because i flourish & grow in abundance&love&success&wellness with my every breath#i am a master manifestor and a magnet to all good things bc my life is better than a rom com#i am a magnet to successful opportunities and loving relationships#i can have a bm in 45 minutes bc my digestive system is back to how i was when i was 11#i am a successful women’s lifestyle journalist and have the job of my dreams#i have such an amazing life i frequently make stas overwhelmingly jealous#i have fun things to do with friends every weekend#i have friends who do cute aesthetic parties & trips with me always included just like juliette d & her friends do#my life is as great as allie’s or better & i get 10x as many opportunities as she’s had to get & have & experience everything i want or mor#all of my wishes come true and the universe/powers that be grant me all that i ask for or better & as ive willed it so it is & so im gratef#all my workings will be successful and accomplish what i intended without backfiring#i buy whatever i want because money for fun things comes to me easily in abundance#i am friends with jd & sm & rl & cmcd so i am a welcome & essential part of their friend group & included in all their activities#i am a successful womens magazine writer at conde nast or hearst or meredith magazines#I am a powerful witch whose spells & potions always work even better than intended & can manifest instantly&cast spells just w my thoughts#i have a soul tribe and am surrounded by lifelong friends who adore me and really get me#i have another bff that understands me on a soul level so that we share a sense of humor and a lot of in common and fun together#i have new friends who do cute aesthetic parties & trips with me & i’m always included just like juliette d & her friends do#i have that magic it quality&am as charming&magnetic&beloved as stas is 2 every1 who meets or knows me so everyone wants 2 be around me 24/#everyone who hurt me regrets how they treated me and misses me & feels the pain they caused me 10fold with no harm to me#i’m a beauty and fashion journalist by my 30th bday#i have the buzzfeed fellowship#i have a job offer i’m excited about by june#i am always protected from any backlash or consequences or harm from any spells i do or did on stas or vic because i am divinely protected#every day i lose weight from fat and am achieving my ideal body of a tiny waist and hourglass figure and toned arms#my hair is healthy&shiny& does not shed excessively &grows quickly & gets lighter in color every day so its back to strawberry blonde#vic & stas miss me every day & wish they were still friends with me#i have new people and more experiences in my life that excite me and treat me wonderfully
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To Those Who Still Hold Onto a Shred of Morality and Humanity - Stand with Us and Don’t Forget Us.
Over 40,000 lives have been lost, with 70% of them being children and women. Among these numbers are my own family members—many of whom I’ve already lost.
My family, my cousin, aunt, their children, and grandchildren were all directly targeted by Israeli airstrikes. I’m sharing a video of my aunt and cousin to reveal the harsh reality we are facing in Gaza. In this video, my aunt bravely shares her story about how the Israeli army airstruck them along with their children and grandchildren. Even if you don’t understand Arabic, just watching her speak will help you grasp the immense suffering we are enduring in Gaza. You can see the vedeo in this post.
The few family members who remain are in grave danger, and I’m terrified of losing them too. We have a chance to make a real difference and give my 24 surviving family members a chance to live.
In Gaza, jobs are non-existent, and nonprofit organizations like the UN have drastically reduced their work on the ground. Basic necessities such as milk, food, and medicine are almost as expensive as gold. My family is struggling to afford even the essentials, and my mother urgently needs medication that we simply cannot afford.
I’m also sharing another video that shows the daily struggle people face just to get clean water. The suffering here extends far beyond my family; it’s a genocide affecting every aspect of life in Gaza.
Thanks to the generosity of those who have already donated, we’ve raised $535 toward our goal of $190,363- august 17th. I’m deeply grateful to each of you, but we still have a long way to go, and I need your help more than ever. Imagine if it were your family—how would you feel if they were in this situation?
For those who have created special posts or reblogged to amplify my voice, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your support means everything to me and to my family. If you haven’t yet shared our story, please take just one minute to do so. Your voice could be the lifeline my family desperately needs.
You cannot continue to treat human lives as mere numbers. This is a genocide that demands immediate action. How many more should be killed before you all wake up? Will 40,000 lives be enough to stir us to action? 50,000? 100,000? 150,000?
Asking for donations and charity is something we never imagined having to do in Gaza before the war, and it’s heartbreaking that it has come to this. But if everyone who saw my last post donated just $10 or $20, we could reach our goal in no time. If you’re looking for a way to contribute, consider giving up your coffee, tea, or other “cup” for one day, one week, one month, or anything in between. Then, donate what you would have spent to help me. Please help us and donate now!
This is about more than just donations—it’s about preserving human lives and upholding our shared moral values. Your contribution can make a world of difference in our survival and ensure I don’t lose more of the people I love.
Demanding an end to this suffering is a matter of basic humanity. You cannot remain neutral in the face of such genocide. Please, let’s stand together. Enough is enough.
Every donation, no matter how small, brings us closer to hope and healing. Thank you again for your kindness and support. I will never forget it.
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed even as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
Important note: ** 105 Swedish kr is just 10$ ** 1050 Swedish kr is just 100$ ** 10500 Swedish kr is just 1000$
Please share !
@humansofnewyork@intersectional-feminist @intersectional-feminists@intersectional-feminism @intersectional-feminist-killjoy
@thepeoplesrecord@socialjusticekitten-blog @socialgoodmoms @nowthisnews @socialgoofy
@theblogofawesome@fightforhumanity-rpg-blog @fightforhumanity-rp@queerandpresentdanger @progressive-pride
@radicalsocialworker @activistminds @mybelovedworld @hopeandresist @solidarityisimportant-blog
@solidarityissbliss @solidarityisnotaslogan-blog-blog @unified-multiversal-theory @feministacansada
@feministactionsupportnetwork @globalvoices @save-the-world-but-lose-her @save-the-world-one-day-at-a-time
@save-the-world-tonight @wip-wednesday @daily-writing-prompts @allthingswordy @writerscorner-blog
@fictionfood @wordsthat-speak @writerscunts-blog @storyshots-blog @wordsnstories-blog
@writeblr @thewritingcaddy @fictionwriting2 @inkstay @creativepromptsforwriting @interact-if
#gaza#palestine#free palestine#genocide#palestinian genocide#all eyes on gaza#humanity#charity#donate#humanitarian aid#gaza genocide#free gaza#help gaza#pray for gaza#poltiics#current events#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#olympics#gravity falls#the umbrella academy#interview with the vampire#iwtv#donald trump#kamala harris#joe biden#ffxiv#acotar#art#artists on tumblr
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#im so angry right now and actually physically sick#my whole family consists of two people only and theyre both pro israel and super condescending towards other opinions#saying everyone who does not share their opinion is a unknowledgable child on the internet that buys into trends and lies#i tried to talk to them so many times offering to talk and share resources#trying to reason with them#screaming at them how their logic doesnt make sense and only works if theyre profiting off of it#and im being called unreasonable angry and unhinged because im the crazy one im the one whos been in a mental hospital the one with issues#but my whole life is reliant on them and i can not cut them out of my life even if they do great damage to my mental health and selfesteem#im completely financially dependent on them and can not live on my own#not only because i wouldnt be able to get an apartment without them but also because i only have a job because i work for my step dad#i cant hold other jobs or even get them to begin with and also they would pay less than half of what i earn now#which would not even be enough to pay rent#i hate my life so fucking much i am so angry how i have to have my abusive mom in my life and cry about it like im 14#im so tired of fighting for i dont know what#im so tired of being gaslit all the time and being looked down even though im an adult and try to speak super eloquently#and then it just ends in me crying and screaming and my face twitching uncontrollably because everything i say is being shut down#i know im right i know what i read and see about gaza i know so much more about the whole issue than them and see all the horrors#but it doesnt matter because im just an ungreatful child who wants to invent conflict because apparently i love fighting#like nothing that i say matters#israel is using abuser tactics like silencing the people they abuse and playing the victim and twisting the narrative#and the whole zionist propaganda#and thats literally my mom and how she acts as a person#she hates being jewish she never talks about it she didnt want to tell me anything about the culture and didnt learn yiddish from her family#and now she says that everyone who is against israel is like the people who were antisemitic to her all her life and said shes less than#she literally made this war this genocide about herself and how shes always the victim#i wish i just had someone to talk to so i dont go completely insane#i feel so alone
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Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>
Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?
He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.
What're you? A cop?
Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.
Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.
But see, here's the THING.
The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...
Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.
There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)
He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!
Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.
That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.
Poisonous, though.
They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.
Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!
Who's Coffee Is This?
Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!
You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.
He's shouting.
People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.
Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!
He TACKLES the man of steel.
RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!
And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.
He'll move in a moment.
When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.
The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.
They never do.
And now he's nearly killed Superman.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dc x dp prompt#minji's writing#killer coffee au#weston family brew#will make you see god or meet im
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What a Coincidence | lando norris smau
lando norris x reader | best friend!oscar
summary: fans start to put the pieces together when y/n and lando start to get a bit obvious about their relationship
fc: sabrina carpenter
my first post ever!! i hope you enjoy it, apologies in advance for any mistakes, errors, or typos!
part 2
yourusername
liked by yourbff, oscarpiastri, and 1,083,920 others
yourusername so proud of this one, can't wait to share my baby with all of you lovely people
short n' sweet out tonight 💋
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ynfan1 finally!!! been waiting so long for this one!
ynfan2 TAKE MY MONEY QUEEN
yourbff absolutely beautiful album, love you!!
yourusername love you more!!!
oscarpiastri will be tuning in even though best friend privileges got me a sneak peek
yourusername don't forget to promote my album at the paddock 😇
ynfan2 oscar piastri i will pay you an absurd amount of money to slide me the best friend sneak preview
♡
landonorris
liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 992,837 others
landonorris fast times and fast nights 🏆
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user1 INCREDIBLE WIN
ynfan2 the y/n lyrics?? or is this a coincidence??
user2 PAPAYAAAAAA!!!! CONGRATS!!!!
oscarpiastri hey that's my song
ynfan2 THE Y/N LYRICS I AM SO DELUSIONAL ABOUT THIS
oscarpiastri oh yeah, congrats mate
user3 THAT'S MY GOAT!!!
ynfan3 not lando trying to get y/n's attention when she has a new man 💀
♡
yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 1,028,183 others
yourusername couldn't have asked for a better opening night, can't wait to see what else the uk has to offer!!
thank you, london 💋
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ynfan1 waiting patiently for my show
ynfan2 lando in the likes ... y'all i am SO delusional about this
ynfan3 SO PROUD OF YOU Y/N!!!
oscarpiastri the whole crew had a great time tonight!
yourusername who had the best time? 🤭
ynfan2 what does this mean?? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????
ynfan4 was lando in attendance tonight i have to know
ynfan5 i fear y/n fans don't know what "don't analyze too much" means
ynfan6 poor girl probably just wants to test the waters with her new man and everyone keeps speculating
user1 y/n fans want her with lando sooooo bad, i don't even think he's interested in her at all 😂
♡
♡
landonorris
liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, and 843,928 others
landonorris behind the scenes
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oscarpiastri "thank you oscar, i love using your best friend privileges"
landonorris i can't even fight back here
landonorris check your texts for my response
user1 musician lando coming soon?
user2 a man of many talents
user3 someone put him back in the car
ynfan2 oscar best friend privileges ... y'all HEAR ME OUT
ynfan3 here she goes again
user4 ready for race week!!!
carlossainz55 photo creds??
landonorris no thanks
♡
yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 948,382 others
yourusername best friend privileges loading ...
had the best weekend! everyone say congrats to my best friend!!
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ynfan1 CONGRATS OSCAR!!!!
ynfan2 CONGRATULATIONS OSCAR!!! GREAT RACE!!!
ynfan2 yes i'm still delusional and screaming over lando being in the last pic
oscarpiastri thank you for coming y/n, you might be my good luck charm!!
landonorris can i borrow her sometime liked by yourusername
ynfan3 that race was incredible!!! great job osc!!
yourbff i had too much fun, i might have a new favorite sport
yourusername i'll take you to more races, don't you worry!!
ynfan4 i'm guessing ynfan2 didn't see the above interaction
user3 oscar and y/n have the cutest friendship 🥺
♡
♡
lando.jpg
liked by yourusername and 298,038 others
lando.jpg on a night like tonight
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user2 in new york?
user3 pretty!
ynfan2 y/n spotted in the likes
user4 best photographer!
♡
♡
yourusername
liked by yourbff, oscarpiastri, and 1,382,409 others
yourusername thank you, new york!!
always love, love, love performing here. hope you enjoyed the new music 💋
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oscarpiastri performing new music when i can't attend has to go against best friend privileges
yourbff beautiful girl!! loving your lover girl era, you are GLOWING!!
ynfan1 BEST NIGHT EVER!! THANK YOU FOR THE NEW MUSIC, WE'RE SO SPOILED!
ynfan2 THE MCLAREN COLOR OUTFIT??? i might be reaching but ...
ynfan3 considering he was just in new york ... you might be onto something
ynfan4 LOVE YOU! YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING AND MORE
♡
♡
landonorris
liked by yourusername, yourbff, and 892,384 others
landonorris ready for you vegas, i've got a good luck charm this week
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oscarpiastri i think you mean i've *stolen a good luck charm from my teammate this week
landonorris tough luck mate
user1 GOOD LUCK!!
user4 LFG!!!!
user2 COME ON PAPAYA
ynfan2 Y/N BEING THE GOOD LUCK CHARM HE BETTER WIN THIS WEEKEND
ynfan3 is this y/n's new man?? good luck lando norris
ynfan1 suddenly i love formula 1
yourbff good luck!!
ynfan2 omg queen what are you doing here
♡
yourusername
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 1,483,472 others
yourusername what happens in vegas ... you know the rest 💋
happy birthday, congratulations, i love you 🧡
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yourbff MOM AND DAD!!! SO HAPPY FOR YOUUUUUUU
ynfan2 I KNEW IT!!!!!! I KNEW I WASN'T DELUSIONAL I WAITED SO LONG FOR THIS
oscarpiastri i think it's safe to assume that you're no longer my good luck charm
landonorris everybody point and laugh
landonorris i love you, I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU
user3 just down horrendous
ynfan1 SHE'S HAPPY!!!! I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS
ynfan4 lando better treat her right
carlossainz55 any chance i can borrow your luck before the season is over
landonorris NO????
user3 LMAOOOOOOOOOO
♡
landonorris
liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,382,094 others
landonorris lucky to call you mine. beautiful show by the most beautiful girl.
if anyone is still wondering: yes, we have really good bed chem
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user2 they are actually so cute
user4 THEY ARE EACH OTHER'S BIGGEST FANS I LOVE THEM
user1 MY PARENTS!!!
ynfan2 this is what dreams are made of
ynfan4 OHHHHH HE MATCHES HER FREAK OKAY Y/N 😏
user3 THE LAST PART OF THE CAPTION???
yourusername horny on main is crazyyyyyy
landonorris horny on album before we were even public is crazyyyyyyyy
user5 OH I'M OBSESSED WITH THEM
oscarpiastri lando acting like he wasn't kicking his feet and blushing the first time he heard bed chem liked by yourusername
ynfan3 we will be cheering for lando for the rest of the season
#lando norris#f1#f1 x reader#lando norris smau#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#f1 smau#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#lando norris au#lando norris imagine#lando x reader
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sunday's 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚
{yuta okkotsu x popular f!reader}
summary: yuta okkotsu has been in love with you since he started college— living in the shadows of your popularity as he watched from afar how your bouncy and genuine kind soul prospered and shined everywhere you went. but during one of his shifts at the 50s diner down the street from his campus, you walk in with you friends one sunday night and immediately bond over your shared love for elvis presley’s music, yuta stammering and fidgety at how pretty you are up close, and you falling fast for his pinky cheeks, sweet little words, and how he takes care of you every single day.
warnings: college!au, FLUUUFFF omg so cute, lovesick yuta he thinks you’re so prettyyy, no smut in this one!, popular reader, cursing, afab!reader, lots of mentions of elvis presley LOL, little bit of angst, clueless yuta, strangers to friends to lovers.
word count: 9.6k
authors note: THIS ONE HITS HOMEEE FOR MEEE AAAHHHH CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ELVIS PRESLEY? i live and breathe that man and oldies in general, so this is a love letter to him! :] this fic is all of my favorite things combined and it is SO FREAKING CUUTEEEE UGH i hope you all love it seriously <3333 MWAAHHH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU—
yuta okkotsu had never seen a girl so beautiful.
you were breathtaking, watching from afar, it was truly as if the world revolved around you in the most positive way yuta could think of.
you were popular— a beam of gorgeous light following you everywhere you went as you were always just enveloped by people and strangers and friends, them wanting to talk to you, wanting to get to know you, wanting you to better their lives because that’s what you selflessly liked to do for everyone without knowing.
and every time he’d walk in between lectures and spot you— feeling in the dumps if on certain days he’d miss your presence entirely, he’d just stare. stare with pink cheeks and softened eyes as you laughed and messed around with your friends or did extracurricular activities around campus, always giving a helping hand to those who needed it no matter the status.
that’s what yuta admired the most about you. you didn’t treat anybody differently just because they didn’t stand in the same level as you. you didn’t care about things like that, and you spoke to people with such fucking class and poise, that he always dozed off picturing how it would be like if he ever had the privilege of actually speaking with you.
that’s how most of his work shifts went at the diner after his classes.
he would wait tables or be in the kitchen, wipe down the windows or run the hostess stand… and you’d be on his mind— permanently there to torment him in the loveliest way he knew how.
and on one sunday night, you were unexpectedly there right in front of him at his job.
“hello?”
you waved a gentle hand over his face, and he snapped out of it immediately, cheeks pinky and bright, your friends snickering.
“yes! s—sorry.” he reached behind the hostess stand. “how many are with you?”
“four!” you responded sweetly, yuta having to swallow the huge lump in his throat as he officially saw your smile up close for the first time in his life— a gorgeous contrast to what it looked like from far away.
yuta quickly grabbed the corresponding menus and stepped to the side of the hostess stand, leading you and your friends through the empty restaurant and to a big booth— placing two menus down on each side of the table.
a series of elvis presley oldies (a personal pick from yuta) played through the jukebox in the middle of the diner while you and your friends scanned the menu, yuta fidgeting and anxious with his pen and notepad, waiting for you to order.
“do you have a favorite milkshake from here?” your kind voice spoke, looking up at him.
“uh— milkshake?”
your friends snickered again, but this time, you turned to them and shot them all a menacing glare.
“hey!— stop that you guys…” you shook your head at them and turned back to a red faced yuta, smiling apologetically. “i’m sorry! i’m really sorry.”
your friends only looked annoyed as they buried their faces in their menus or looked away entirely— yuta shaking his head softly.
“n—no it’s alright. um— i usually prefer this one-”
he timidly pointed his pen downward, the words ‘elvis shake’ reading from it.
“it has uh— vanilla ice cream with peanut butter and bananas.” he pursed his lips. “if… if you like that?”
“oh i’m a whore for anything with peanut butter in it!…” your hands spread flat across the menu as you leaned closer, yuta shyly laughing a little at your wording.
you looked up then, your eyes bright and excited and yuta doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way you were at that moment.
“is that why you like it? because of the peanut butter?”
“yeah! yeah definitely... m— mainly because of the name though.”
you stopped and your eyebrows furrowed. “elvis? do you listen to him?”
his cheeks buzzed. “do you?”
“y/n!” one of your friends harshly whispered to you from across the table. “are we here to chit chat or are we here to eat?”
“fuck okay! jesus—”
you and the rest of your group ordered, yuta nervously scribbling down the names of various platters and drinks before silently excusing himself to send the note off to the kitchen staff.
and when it came around to serving your food, placing each individual dish down for each person— yuta gently settled the elvis shake you got in front of you, adorned with baby pink sprinkles over a mountain of whipped cream with a cherry on top, something that yuta did extra for you out of the goodness of his infatuated heart, since it didn’t come with the drink in the first place.
he didn’t know why, but he could tell that the energy was different between you and your friends the second time he came around, and after hiding in the kitchen for the entirety of the time you were there instead of outside waiting tables like he was supposed to, by the third time he came back around— you were fighting with them.
he quickly retreated behind the bar and made himself look busy, guiltily eavesdropping as he picked up a random salt shaker and falsely examined it.
“i don’t understand why you guys can’t just be nice!” you pushed. “is having a normal conversation with somebody that funny? every time?”
“y/n you always talk to a bunch of rando’s of course it’s funny.”
“what the hell does that even mean?”
“it means it looks odd and you’re embarrassing yourself every time you skip around not being mindful of who you’re having conversations with!” one of them seethed, their tone judgemental and rude and one yuta didn’t like at all.
“like— like the server today! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen him around campus, he’s odd. why were you asking him about— about— who the fuck were you asking him about?“
“elvis.” you spat. “i was asking him about elvis."
“that guy! who cares? he works here why do you have to always talk to people like that—”
“like what?!” you threw your arms up. “like a normal decent human being would? i can see why you’d lack that.”
“excuse me?”
“yeah. and it sucks for you.”
“sucks for?— okay. i think we’re done here.”
“way fucking done.”
as each of them scooched out of the booth, yuta watched with wide panicked eyes while you stayed seated and silent, arms crossed over your chest and lips tight as you glared.
“i don’t know why everyone loves you so much…” one of them muttered. “there isn’t anything to you.”
and they all walked out, the bell above the door chiming as they did.
yuta’s eyes darted from you to the exit and to them through the window outside in the parking lot, watching fucking gobsmacked as they all got in one singular car and sped off, leaving you there by yourself and with the responsibility of the bill.
soft sniffles reached him, and he turned then, your body hunched over on the table as you cried with your head down, yuta’s heart aching for you.
he put down the random salt shaker he was holding and walked around the bar, slowly making his way towards your table.
“you don’t—”
you shot up startled.
“sorry! sorry—” he awkwardly scratched his pinky cheek. “i was just— gonna say you don’t have to pay the bill… i— i can—”
“oh! no you don’t have to do that.” you wiped your cheeks. “it’s okay i can pay it.”
“but they left you the entire bill.” he said softly.
“i know… it’s okay! really.” you smiled a little through your tears, the sight making his shoulders slump.
how you could possibly smile at a time like this was beyond him.
yuta started clearing the empty plates from your table when you spoke up again.
“i’m sorry you had to deal with their attitude...” you mumbled. “and my ugly crying.”
he smiled softly and shook his head. “no it’s okay. you shouldn’t apologize for them.”
“i should though…” you whined a little. “they were being mean the moment we got here and were just straight disrespectful.”
you leaned back against the plush of the booth and crossed your arms, muttering. “it’s not like they were my friends either..”
yuta quirked a confused brow, setting the last of the plates away in the kitchen before coming back around. “they weren’t?”
“nuh uh.” you shook your head. “i had just met them today actually, from a sorority event. i thought they were nice at first but i started noticing they were a little bitchy.”
“bitchy?” he laughed a little, his heart leaping like a little leap frog at the realization that it was just you and him at the diner alone, the cooks having already gone home seeing as it was past closing time for the diner.
“yeah…” you sighed deeply through your nose. “they weren’t being very nice to the other girls there either… and— and when they asked me if i wanted to come eat here with them i didn’t really want to go but—” you pursed your lips, a sheepish look on your face. “i have a hard time saying no to people so…”
yuta’s eyes softened, leaning back against the edge of the long bar table as he eyed how resilient you tried to come across but damn well knowing you were hurting inside by their actions, your cheeks still wet and your bottom lip in a slight pout.
“what they said to you wasn’t very nice…” he murmured. “i’m sorry they did that.”
you smiled warmly. “it’s okay. i get it here and there.”
his eyebrows furrowed. “here and there? what do you mean?”
“from other people that i meet.” you perked up slightly then. “do you wanna sit?” you signaled to the seat across from you in the booth and he stiffened, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he reluctantly scooched his legs over and sat across from you.
“they just get a little mad when i don’t do what they want me to do.”
“like be mean? like them?”
you shrugged a little, but the way your gorgeous eyes peered up at him indicated that he was right. “i suppose.”
“are all of your friends like that?”
“oh no! thankfully not…” you fiddled with your fingers on the table. “a lot of them are really sweet.”
yuta never thought about how something like this could be a possibility, as all he saw was how much you were loved and idolized and sought after by literally anyone who knew your name— but he missed the mark on the logistics of it. he should’ve known certain girls wouldn’t be in favor of you and desired what you didn’t have to work very hard for to get.
he saw how you wiped the remnants of your wet cheeks and sniffed, looking like you had at least recovered from crying but still a little dejected as you slouched over the table, eyes down.
“do you want… another elvis shake?”
you looked up. “what?”
“a—another shake. do you want one?” he stood slowly from the booth. “or i could get you ice cream? we just have vanilla and chocolate but—”
“oh no! it’s okay really i don’t want to freeload over what you have—”
he giggled a little. “you’re not freeloading. i’m offering.”
and before you could reject him again, he was already making his way to the kitchen— hands skillfully prepping his favorite milkshake like he’d done so many times before since the age of sixteen, and now skillfully and lovingly preparing it for you, the girl he’s adored since the moment he started college.
you stood and timidly followed after him, but instead of fully going into the kitchen, you stopped in front of the vintage burgundy jukebox and scanned the selection of songs.
“you won’t get in trouble?” you worriedly called over your shoulder. “i don’t want you to run into issues with your job…”
“no it’s okay!” you heard from the kitchen, glasses and silverware clinking together. “i’ve been working here since high school and my manager doesn’t mind. i usually um— close on sunday’s on my own too.”
the blender went off as you spotted your favorite elvis presley song on the list of selections, perking up and quickly digging into your purse for any stray quarters you magically hoped would appear inside.
yuta switched the blender off and unhooked it from the base, pouring out the frothy liquid into a fountain glass cup.
“you close on your own on sunday’s?” your head turned to where he was, catching little glimpses of him from the doorway as he moved to and fro. “the entire restaurant?”
“yeah…” he laughed awkwardly. “well— all of the time.”
“all of the time?!” you gawked, popping your head into the kitchen and accidentally scaring him.
“oh shit!—”
“sorry!” you giggled cutely. “i’m sorry…”
he laughed with you and waved you off. “it’s okay.”
yuta looked down and proceeded topping your milkshake with baby pink sprinkles again. “and yeah we’re kind of… understaffed right now. it’s just me and another kid.”
you hummed understandingly, watching the way he finished off your shake with two cherries on top instead of one like last time, making you softly smile in response.
he plopped a straw in. “here you go.”
“thank you!” you bounced excitedly on your little toes and he grinned, handing the glass over to you gently.
“i hope you feel better…”
your milkshake filled cheeks made him laugh as you paused and swallowed, the sweetest expression ever on your face as your eyes flickered to his name tag and back to him.
“i do yuta… thank you!”
the way his name rang off your tongue, something he never ever would’ve thought to hear come out of your mouth, to come out from you, sent him feeling lightheaded as fuck as he dropped his head down to hide his rosy cheeks, walking out of the kitchen as you followed after him.
you paused in front of the jukebox again.
“oh! i didn’t get to hear your answer from earlier.”
he picked his head up. “from earlier?”
“if— if you listen to elvis?”
“oh—” his gaze drifted to where you had your focus on the elvis presley selection panel on the machine. “i do! i love his music.”
you beamed, eyes lighting up so excitedly as you looked at him.
“oh my god i love him too! so much!”
“really?” he smiled. “do you— do you have a favorite song?”
“yeah! i have a lot...” you giggled shyly. “but i mainly like ‘always on my mind.’”
“that one’s a good one!” his smile grew. “i love that one too.”
“right?!” you stepped closer to him, and his face flushed. “and you? what about you?”
“i uh— i like ‘moody blue’…”
you gushed. “i like that one too!”
you loved the way his pinky cheeks bloomed and how kind he was— the way he tried his best to make you, a stranger, feel better with a cute little milkshake, his stuttering and fidgeting something that you found yourself adoring and only made your heart mushy with the weird need to pinch his rosy cheeks.
and he loved elvis.
“i’m glad you like him.” you hummed, running the pad of your index finger mindlessly over the smooth glittery surface of the jukebox. “people don’t really listen to him or oldies in general now.”
you gently set your nearly finished milkshake on the bar table as he nodded his head in agreement, thinking he couldn’t fall more in love with you over the fact that you actually liked one of his favorite artists. “i didn’t—expect you to either…”
you tilted your head. “really? why?”
“because—” he stammered, eyes darting around your breathtaking face. “well you’re popular. and pretty. and in a sorority. and i just—”
“oh— i see!” you smiled with blushing cheeks at his quick compliment, but it didn’t really reach your eyes. “i understand.”
“no but!—” your eyes stayed glued to the jukebox, and he worried that he might’ve accidentally offended you as he frantically tried to get his words together.
“i know it’s all stereotypes and assumptions so i’m— i’m sorry.”
“it’s alright!” you giggled softly. “i just don’t want you or anyone to get the wrong impression of me because of those things is all…”
your eyebrows pinched in thought, and he quickly shook his head.
“i’ve never!” he reached and placed a hand on your shoulder, your cheeks growing hot as he did so. “i’ve never gotten the wrong impression of you…”
“no?”
“no.”
you peered up at him. “what do you think of me then?”
“what do i—” he gulped. “what do i think?”
“yeah!”
“i think uh… you’re really nice.” he mumbled. “really nice. to everyone.. to me. doesn’t matter who honestly. and… you’re not afraid to say something if someone is being rude.”
yuta shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he avoided your gaze. “and you’re helpful… you put a lot of care into the things that you do, which are always never for your own benefit but for the benefit of others.”
he froze. “i— i see you around campus! a lot— so…”
your doe eyes were soft and filled with affection and warmth, the weight of his words settling into your mind as if they’ve always belonged there. as if he’s always belonged there.
you wrung your fingers behind your back then and leaned up on your tippy toes.
“you think i’m pretty?”
beautiful.
yuta hadn’t even realized that he had called you that until the moment you mentioned it again, his eyes widening as his wobbly lips tried to form coherent sentences for you.
“well— well who doesn’t...” he squeaked.
“but do you?” you leaned even closer, your cute smile nearly making him want to blurt out that he’s in love with you and that he’s maybe thought about you being the mother of his children from time to time.
“i— i do.” his eyes flickered back to yours. “i do.”
you bit your bottom lip and gleamed, giving into your impulses and reaching up to gently squeeze his flushed cheek.
“you’re so cute yuta…” you murmured, arm falling back to your side and eyes casting over the jukebox again.
and he nearly just about died.
“do you want a little donut?” he asked. “i— i can get it from the back—”
you and yuta spent literally the rest of the night until two in the morning chit chatting, playing various oldies tunes on the jukebox that conspired of mainly elvis presley, and yuta literally feeding you and giving you anything he possibly could just so he could watch the way you beamed at him every time he did— even when at one point you literally begged him that it was okay, your tummy absolutely filled with sugary sweets and drinks.
you even helped yuta close— disinfecting and wiping down all of the tables, sweeping the floors, triple shining the little elvis mural the diner had by the hostess stand, and organizing the menu’s for tomorrow’s shift.
in the midst of you wiping down the last of the big glass windows by the entrance with him, you thought of something.
“oh my god yuta—” your head snapped in his direction, his eyes widening at your sudden outburst.
“what if i work here?”
he stopped.
“work here?”
“yeah!” you nodded vigorously. “with you!”
he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from screaming. “with me?”
“uh huh!” you chirped sweetly. “i would love to wipe down tables and listen to music with you everyday..”
yuta’s ears went red as he heard your soft voice say something so cute, wanting to literally run into the kitchen to the sink and dunk his face in sink water to cool off his boiling face.
“if that’s okay!” you sputtered. “am i being weird? am i freaking you out—”
“no! no not at all!” the corners of his lips curled, and he smiled, genuinely smiled. a big loving one that made his cheeks hurt with how hard he was doing it, and one that made your heart lightly flutter inside your chest at the way he was looking at you.
“i can talk to my manager.” he spoke gently. “i’m pretty sure he’ll take you.”
you bounced excitedly on your tippy toes, unexpectedly throwing your arms around him and landing a big fat kiss to his cheek.
“thank you thank you!”
yuta kept true to his word and talked to his manager the following day, who barely even had to think about it since he trusted yuta more than his own damn kids, waving him off and giving him the all clear to have you start the coming week.
“look look! do you likkeeyyy?”
you twirled around in your waitress uniform, the frilly pink fabric moving and swaying with every spin you made as he casually tried to bite down on his thumb in stupid restraint.
“it’s great!” he muttered, teeth locked around his thumb still. “you look great y/n.”
“thanks thanks!”
and you hopped over, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek before skipping away to the kitchen, him ecstatic as he’d been wanting another one so fucking badly again since the first time you did it— him biting down even harder on his thumb when you disappeared from view.
“why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?”
yuta whipped around and saw his other coworker, yuji, the kid who shares shifts with him sometimes and spills everything and anything that comes out of his mouth without thinking twice about it, standing next to him with a clueless face.
yuji then wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “is it the girl? the pretty one? the one with the big ass—”
“knock it off—” yuta shoved him away lightly and walked off, crouching down behind the bar counter and sorting through piles of rolled up silverware and buffet napkins.
“do you like her? yes or no?” yuji leaned against the edge of the bar.
his cheeks went pink.
“because if not i’m gonna go try y’know—”
yuta scoffed. “yuji you’re a freshman in high school and we’re in college. she’s in college—”
“okay maybe she likes them young? cougar moment?”
yuta looked at him absolutely horrified and bewildered. “you’re fucking insane—”
his reaction and response only made yuji double over in a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as yuta looked at him with an unamused face.
“i’m kidding! i’m just kidding i know you like her you’ve been red in the face the minute she clocked in—”
“what’s so funny?”
you popped your head in from the kitchen, making yuta jump again and yuji double over laughing like before, you giving yuta an apologetic look.
“i wanna laugh!” you pouted. “what happened? what’s funny?”
“yuta didn’t like the joke i made.” yuji quipped.
“well what was it? maybe i will!” you smiled sweetly.
“i said—”
“don’t say it!”
yuji ducked as yuta threw a kids menu at him.
“yuta has a cru—”
“shut the fuck up!—”
you covered your mouth with your hands in a little fit of giggles, the sound halting yuta mid throw to look at you with wide dreamy eyes— not wanting to miss the way you laughed and the way your nose crinkled with every hiccup.
yuji snickered and he shot him a glare before standing and walking over to where you stood.
“you don’t wanna hear it…” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with a buffet napkin. “it was freaking weird.”
you settled your giggles down and breathed, nodding cutely. “i’ll take your word for it, yu.”
yu.
“eeehh?! look y/n! look at his face!—”
“shut up!”
for the rest of the days and shifts that you spent together, yuta made it his mission to do things for you to hopefully earn him a sweet cheek kiss in return like last time, all while desperately trying to avoid yuji and his big ginormous annoying mouth actively corrupting some of his attempts on purpose.
yuta would try and bring you any kind of pastry he could give away to you without his manager knowing, or make you milkshakes randomly throughout your shifts or small BLT’s during lunch time to feed you, all for the purpose of watching the way you’d smile and hug him gratefully each time, and if he got lucky, a sweet kiss on the cheek.
“i don’t get it.” yuji shook his head during one of your shifts, him shuffling through a movie magazine on his break. “why don’t you just ask her for a kiss on the cheek? hm? i’d bet she’d do it! ooo better yet—” he looked at him with sarcastic laced excitement. “ask her out you little loser.”
yuta’s cheeks were hot as he listened, watching you from the kitchen take orders and scribble them down on a notepad.
“it’s been months yuta. months. i am in agony every day watching you follow her around like a lost puppy even though it’s the funniest thing i’ve ever seen.”
yuta rolled his eyes, but sent him a small sad smile. “can’t do it.”
“why not?” he whined. “she likes you too!”
“because she’s out of my league.” yuta pursed his lips. “and no i don’t think she likes me.”
“oh man—” yuji hunched over the sink, tossing his magazine to the side and gripping the rim in exhaustion. “she kisses your cheeks and hugs you and literally took this job because of you! what more proof do you want?!” he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “a straight up confession?! a straight up kiss?!”
yuta’s heart accelerated at the thought as he pictured yuji’s words clear in his mind.
would you ever kiss him?… would you ever like him back?
“m—maybe?”
“what about school! do you guys not hang out or talk at school?”
“we do!” yuta perked up, but his shoulders quickly slumped. “we’re in different circles though so it’s always just for a little bit or casually.”
yuji groaned loudly and smacked a hand over his forehead. “it’s useless. you’re on your own man i tried i tried so hard i can’t help you—”
he continued to mutter under his breath as he picked up his backpack and walked out of the kitchen and out of the restaurant, the end of his shift drawing near as yuta laughed to himself over his words.
he appreciated how much yuji cared and how badly he wanted him to succeed, but even though his unrealistic expectations and hopes annoyed him most of the time as he blabbed on to him about them, yuta knew he was just a kid. so he valued it anyways.
“yu!” you spoke from behind the bar, him quickly rubbing his sweaty palms over his pants as he walked out of the kitchen to you.
“i’m so excited for tonight!” you smiled, your giddy little self practically bouncing off the walls in anticipation.
he laughed. “you’re excited to clean?”
“yup yup! i’m excited to clean with you.”
with him.
yuta adored sunday’s because that’s when you were both scheduled to close together on your own— just like the first time you did months ago, back when you weren’t working there yet.
there were no cooks, no yuji, no manager, and no customers. just you and him as you blasted elvis singles on the jukebox and got a sugar high from the ice cream machine as you wiped down tables and dusted off shelves— one time you literally slipping on the checkered tile by the entrance because you forgot you had just mopped the floor, yuta practically jumping over the bar counter to see if you were okay and him absolutely sick and worried over nothing as he showered you with more pastries and sweets to help you feel better.
that sunday night he got a kiss on the cheek.
so as you both bid the last customers a good night and got right to work, yuta considered yuji’s dumb words.
maybe he should just ask?
“if elvis was still alive i would probably sell myself to go see him.”
he let out a shocked laugh. “sell yourself? like prostitution?”
“mhm!” you hummed, wiping down the bar counter. “think about it— his tickets would probably cost like three thousand dollars. where the hell am i gonna get three thousand dollars? i’m broke and in college.”
yuta shook his head, his lips in an amused grin. “anything for elvis.”
“exactly!” you leaned over the counter excitedly, yuta on the other side with pink cheeks and a fuzzy feeling in his heart. “you get it. only you understand me.”
he laughed.
“i think it’d be cool if they brought him back as a hologram and did concerts that way.” yuta suggested.
you gasped incredulously as a hand flew to slap over your mouth. “yu! you little genius! oh my god i have to start pimping myself out now—”
yuta laughed again and shook his head. “don’t do that. we’ll find a way to get in.”
“we?!” you propped yourself up on the counter with your elbows and cupped his hands in yours, him stiffening with wide eyes and wobbly nervous lips. “you wanna go with me?”
“y—yeah.” he stammered. “of— of course…”
you squealed and nodded quickly, seemingly accepting the hypothetical proposal.
but then you settled down a little. your eyelashes slowly fluttering as you stared at him— a slow 50s love song statically murmuring through the jukebox adding to the atmosphere as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
but this time it was different.
it wasn’t quick and cutesy and one that yuta barely had time to bask over before you pranced away. it was slow, tender, and yuta could feel the way your soft lips touched his skin and left behind a burn as he let his eyes close at the blissful gentle feeling, him finally able to relish in the rarity of it before you slightly began pulling away, eyes twinkling.
“…do you still think i’m pretty?” you whispered.
he swallowed thickly, your face so close he could feel your breath fanning across his lips.
“i do.” he whispered back, eyes locked on yours. “very much so.”
you bit your bottom lip as you smiled, ever so slightly leaning closer and closer to him as your lips nearly brushed against—
riinnggg!
you quickly pulled away and ran to the back to answer the phone, leaving yuta sitting there swooning and nearly collapsing on the table, his hands cold from not being encased in your own soft hands anymore.
but most of all… leaving him confused. he didn’t know why you were leaning in like that.
“i’m sorry we’re closed for the day!… uh huh… we open at eight am tomorrow if—”
yuta could still feel the blaze your lips left behind on his cheek as you spoke on the phone, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he tried to get his head back down from the clouds and simmer down the beating of his heart.
“someone wanted to come in right now!” you exclaimed, coming back over to your previous spot.
he furrowed his eyebrows. “right now? are you serious? it’s—” he spun around on the barstool and turned his head to the coca cola themed vintage clock on the wall. “it’s nearly twelve am?”
“i know!” you breathed out. “we closed four hours ago.”
“four?!—”
it dawned on the both of you how long you had been inside the diner, fully convinced it would’ve been longer if you hadn’t noticed.
so as the two of you mutually agreed to finish up and gather your things— the jukebox switched to an iconic elvis presley slow love song as you were just about halfway through the entrance double doors, eyes snapping to each other’s.
“aw i love this one…” you spoke softly, a little whine seeping through.
a small close lipped smile spread across his face. “i love this one too.”
“do you wanna—” you stopped.
his eyebrows pinched. “do i wanna what?”
“do you wanna… dance with meee?” you dragged out cutely, slightly bouncing on your toes.
“dance?” his eyes widened. “i— i don’t know how—”
“s’okay! i’ll teach you!”
you quickly pulled his hand and dragged him out, opening one door and jamming a door stopper underneath it so the music of the jukebox leaked out of the diner and through the empty street.
the pavement was a little wet from the morning rain as you took his hand again and pulled him to the middle of the dead empty street, the bottom of your shoes tapping and splashing a little with each tiny puddle you stepped in.
elvis presley’s voice softly hummed through the air, but it was loud and clear to the both of you as you gently took yuta’s hands and set them around your waist, his heart fucking palpitating and feeling like he was about to have a stroke when you wrung your arms over his neck and showed him that pretty smile he loved so much.
you both slowly stepped side to side, the air crispy and cold as your breath’s blew out foggy misty clouds due to the condensation, both of your noses and cheeks flushing red and buzzing warmly as you continued to slow dance— yuta’s grip slowly tightening until he was practically hugging you flush against his body.
out of anything that could possibly happen to yuta in his life, he wanted to remember this moment specifically— with you, dancing in the middle of the street listening to the man that essentially brought you both together in the first place, your beautiful beautiful face looking at him like he was the most important thing in your life… yuta wanting so badly for that to come true as he basked in this little made up scenario in his head that you were already his.
“yu…” you murmured.
he didn’t trust his voice.
“hm?”
“why haven’t you kissed me yet.”
what?
“kissed… you?”
“yeah..” you whispered, your bodies swaying. “don’t you like me?”
yuta let out a shaky breath. “i— i mean yeah… who doesn’t?”
your smile faltered. “i’m talking about you though…”
“oh. well you know i do. i’m sure a lot of other guys would want to kiss you.”
the song drawled to a gradual close and the jukebox reset, you both no longer swaying but still holding on to each other.
your eyes drifted to the side. “other guys?”
he pursed his lips, not really liking the thought of you kissing guys, but answering your question anyways. “yeah… other guys.”
his emphasis on other guys and not on himself left a bad taste in your mouth.
your eyes narrowed in confusion as you looked up at him, yuta a little shocked at your sad expression.
did he say something wrong?
“i thought—” you shook your head softly. “i thought you…?”
“…thought me what?” he cocked his head to the side, his genuine confusion solidifying his rejection in your eyes.
“i— i thought—”
your hands slipped from his shoulders and you stepped back, yuta sadly complying and letting his arms open and fall beside him as you rapidly blinked back tears, his eyes slowly widening once he caught it.
“hey— are you okay? what’s wrong?”
yuta went and reached for you, you backing away in response as you shook your head and gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes at all.
“why are you crying? did i say something mean? i’m sorry—”
“no no i’m fine.” your voice was quiet and sad. “i think we should go home now.”
his shoulders deflated.
“are you sure? we— we usually hang out until at least one in the morning on sunday’s…”
you walked past him and towards the double doors of the diner, letting your tears slip in secret as you picked up your school bag and swung it over your shoulder, quickly wiping your cheeks before picking up his bag and giving it to him.
yuta thanked you and hoisted his backpack up on himself, ushering you gently to step to the side as he pulled the door stopper from beneath and placed it in its corresponding place by the entrance, letting the door close on its own before pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jacket and locking the diner up.
he did all of this— completely unaware to the way you were trying to quiet down your sniffles behind him.
you were so sure he liked you back… now you just felt a little stupid.
of course— the one genuine guy you came across that you actually liked out of all the others that you’ve met, one that wasn’t like the rest and was sweet and funny and caring and so so attentive of you… didn’t like you back.
the one thing you truly truly wanted, you simply couldn’t have— you walking ahead of yuta in silence through the parking lot with your arms crossed as you wondered if the way he treated you was literally just because that’s how he was as a person.
a good person at that. way too good for this world, and way too good for you.
yuta didn’t know why you were so quiet, his chest a bit achy at the absence of your usual cheerful voice.
when you reached your cars, you barely even bid him a proper goodbye like you always did before you got in your car and sped away, leaving a perplexed yuta standing alone in the parking lot— eyebrows pinched together in clueless concern.
you were acting so weird, and you unfortunately continued to do so for the following week.
the next time you came into the diner (which was literally the next day), yuta was taken aback by how bloodshot and sunken your eyes were when you came in for your shift, not saying a single peep to yuji and him when you walked through the kitchen or through the bar counter like you usually did… and it was weird.
through the bustling of the busy restaurant, it was oddly quiet to the two boys, simply because you weren’t your usual boastful self.
and you were hardly talking to yuta either… which pained him the most. you kept it strictly casual— as if you weren’t completely tied together every fucking day for almost a year now, you just completely casual about your day and about the things you had to do whenever he asked you, your one word dry responses sending him through the worst confusing and sadistic loop of his life.
but it wasn’t casual at all. nothing about you was casual. so why were you acting like this? did you finally maybe open your eyes and realize yuta was a big fat nobody who didn’t belong with a girl like you?
yuta nearly cried at the thought. perhaps you had finally realized that.
but how fucking cruel was it that he lived a year of love and beauty and everything that was just you, getting a taste of what it would be like to live a life where you thought of him as something really special and a life where you wanted to basically do everything with him— only to be ripped away from him overnight? with no explanation?
by wednesday, yuta was dead inside.
you didn’t seem to want to do anything with him anymore like before. you didn’t excitedly jump and squeal and bounce on your little toes when it was time for the both of you to clean during your shift or restock the ice cream machine. you didn’t talk to him about elvis anymore or about another ludicrous idea on how to resurrect him from the dead— you didn’t smile like you used to whenever he tried to give you a small pastry, actually rejecting it instead, and you didn’t kiss his cheeks anymore.
by friday, yuji was fed the fuck up.
“what the fuck did you do?!” he whispered harshly at him from the bar, you somewhere in the diner taking orders. “that woman is like a walking zombie. her eyes have been red like red since monday, and she’s not yapping about elvis anymore.”
yuta leaned against the counter with a flat palm to his forehead in worry, feeling like he was gonna be fucking sick over you.
“i— i don’t know.” he stuttered. “i truly don’t know i don’t know what i said that’s making her act like that.”
“okay run it back for me run it back.” he placed both hands on his shoulders and roughly pulled yuta to face him. “explain to me again what happened on sunday.”
“we were closing…”
“uh huh?”
“she wanted to slow dance in the street so we did…”
“okay cute i love that part okay keep going..?”
“and then she asked why haven’t i kissed her—“
“she what?!” yuji choked, “you didn’t tell me this part! you fucking jumped to the parking lot!”
“my bad…” yuta muttered.
“shit— whatever keep going.”
“she also said that she thought i liked her and i said who doesn’t… and then i told her i was sure other guys would want to kiss her.”
“you said other guys?”
yuta’s eyebrows pinched. “yeah?”
“you. said…” yuji repeatedly slowly. “other. guys.”
“yes i did—”
“oh you’re done.” he rapidly shook his head. “i can’t help you i’ve done all i can you’re my buddy and i love you but i cannot take this anymore—”
“woah woah slow the fuck down—” he narrowed his eyes. “what’s so bad about what i said?”
“you rejected her.”
“what? no i didn’t—”
“yes!” yuji nodded frantically. “yes you did you freaking dingus! yuta she wanted a kiss from you a kiss! she literally said ‘when are you going to kiss me!’”
“i thought she was joking about that?” he answered softly.
“i might die early if you don’t figure this out right now.” yuji spat. “when you said other guys, she took it as you saying you’re sure other guys would want to kiss her and not you! do you understand what i’m trying to say?!”
yuta stayed silent.
“you said ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you,’ which is you indirectly saying ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you but not me.’ emphasis on others—”
“holy fucking shit.”
why was yuji kind of smart?
“oh thank god!” yuji breathed out, throwing his hands up in the air before clasping them together and looking up at the ceiling, his eyes screwed shut as he shook his interlocked hands and prayed.
“thank you! thank you elvis presley for finally making him see what a dumbass he’s been this entire year especially this moment your music has never been better—”
yuta shoved his fingers through his hair, his eyes bulging open. “holy fucking shit what the fuck did i do?!”
you walked past the bar just then and they both shot their arms down and tried to appear as nonchalant as humanly possible, you not even sparing them a glance as you walked over to the kitchen and disappeared from view.
“oh you have got to fix this.”
yuta spent the rest of the week trying to devise a plan to ease into the situation and have a conversation with you about it, but doing it fucking poorly as he miserably couldn’t come up with anything and yuji having even worse ideas— going as far as to suggesting he kidnaps you and takes you to elvis presley’s home in graceland and apologize there, yuji calling it a ‘grand gesture.’
by sunday, yuta was grasping at straws.
you slowly looked up from the bar as you saw a little sprinkled donut pastry slide across from the other side, your stinging eyes locking with yuta’s and feeling an immediate colossal pang through your chest when you saw him.
“you um—” yuta sighed softly through his nose. “you haven’t had a donut from here in a while…”
“oh.” your eyes stayed glued to the pastry. “thank you but i’m alright. i’m not that hungry right now.”
yuta bit his tongue. “please.”
he wasn’t pleading for you to eat the damn donut, but he pathetically couldn’t get the words out properly either.
“i don’t want it i’m okay.”
“why not?” he pushed. “you love donuts. you haven’t accepted my milkshakes either and you love those too.”
“i got sick of them.”
yuta froze.
you sounded like a completely different person at the moment, and yuta knew that your words held an entirely different meaning to them— his heart literally throwing up all over his insides in distress.
it was near closing time, the last pair of customers just about finishing up their meal as you both stared solemnly at the uneaten donut.
“are you—” yuta cleared his throat. “are you mad at me?”
the customers called you over then, and you quickly pushed yourself off from the edge and walked over as yuta heard your kind customer service voice from somewhere in the diner finalizing the bill for them, the bell above the door chiming as they left— you coming back around to stand back on the other side of the bar.
“sorry what did—”
“are you mad at me.”
you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “no. why would i be mad?”
“are you upset with me?”
you hummed a no.
yuta wanted to rip his hair out at the fact that he couldn’t fucking think of what to say to you— not wanting to accidentally say something that could offend you like last time without him even knowing, as he didn’t trust his mouth for shit.
“you haven’t looked okay since last sunday.” he murmured. “you don’t look happy around me anymore.”
you pulled your lips into a thin line and pressed hard, already feeling tears threatening to spill.
“it’s just school. it’s tough at the moment.” you mumbled.
“you’re lying.”
you slightly snorted. “okay thanks.”
“no— fuck i did it again.” he screwed his eyes shut. “i know you’re upset with me and i know you’re mad at me. you don’t talk to me as much, you don’t— you don’t take any of the sweets and drinks i give you when you always do, and you refuse to talk to me about elvis.”
“it’s school yuta i don’t know what else to tell you.”
he groaned and pushed himself off the bar, swiftly making his way around the counter to stand right in front of you as your pretty red eyes widened, your body immediately fidgeting.
“please… i miss you.” he mumbled, and your bottom lip started to wobble. “i miss when you wanted me around.”
“i— i do want you around.” you said, so so softly he could barely hear you.
“then please tell me what you’re feeling.”
you brought your hands up and pressed your fingers into your eyes, trying your absolute hardest to keep the tears inside as your body trembled.
“it’s all me it’s not you so— so please don’t worry about it it’s school and— and—”
“i love you.”
you paused.
yuta shakily pried your fingers away from your eyes, holding them in his hands as silent tears escaped down your cheeks.
you shook your head. “no you don’t. you’re just saying that—”
“i love you.”
“stop it you’re being mean i don’t need you to tell me you love me because you feel bad for me—”
you tried to tear your hands away but his grip only tightened as he shook his head and wrung you in, pressing your hands flat over his heart and holding them there as he leaned and pushed his lips to yours, the taste and feeling of you complete fucking paradise as he hoped that the weight of his lips were conveying how much he truly fucking loved you, how much he truly needed you in his life and how much he wanted you to treat him like he was something to you again.
he was tired of you carrying around the missing half of him, but not because he wanted you to give it back.
he wanted you to keep it. he wanted you to keep it forever and ever and not let it dangle over ineptly like you’d done for the past week. he wanted you to kiss it and shove it next to your heart and keep it there snug where it belonged until the day that he died.
the jukebox murmured another soft 50s tune, you slowly but surely letting your tense shoulders relax as you allowed your lips to move against his, your heart screaming and zooming through your bones at the fact that this man was kissing you like you’d wanted and dreamed for him to do so badly for the past year.
you both slowly pulled away with your lips quietly smacking apart, your stunning face finally looking at him the way you always did, the way you used to, even if it was a little timid still.
“are you lying?” you murmured.
his eyes softened as he gently shook his head.
“absolutely not.”
“but you rejected me.”
he sighed through his nose, his hands still pressing yours over his heart as you felt it beat rapidly under your palms.
“i— i didn’t mean to. i swear to god i didn’t mean to.” he gently dropped his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “i was being stupid and worded everything wrong. but— but i’m telling you now that i wanted to kiss you… so fucking bad. you’re too pretty for me so i honestly thought i just didn’t stand a chance…”
you couldn’t believe it.
“i don’t want other guys to kiss you.” he continued. “not at all… just me.”
“just you?” you murmured, and he nodded against your forehead.
“just me.” he propped his chin on the top of your head. “i’m sorry i hurt you and made you cry.”
“no yu…” you spoke gently. “i’m sorry too. and i’m sorry i said i was sick of the sweets you give me… i was lying i love them.”
he chuckled softly.
“it’s okay… i know.” yuta gently caressed your fingers with his thumbs. “but i love you pretty.”
“i love you.” you whispered, and you slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down in a warm embrace as he copied and pulled your body to his so so tightly, your hearts beating in time with one another as he felt his fingertips go numb at your confession, kissing your soft little cheeks over and over and over again until he got giggles out of you.
yuta loved sunday’s… and so did you.
and when he asked you to be his girlfriend that same night while standing over the jukebox, staring at the elvis presley song selection like you’d done many times together before in the past, yuta for the first time realized that he hadn’t felt alone since the moment you came into the diner with your mean friends— finding himself actually thanking them in his head for that, realizing that if they hadn’t then you probably would’ve left with them and he would’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you that night.
the next time you both came into work, you back to your usual jumpy self as you took every pastry that yuta gave you again and babbled about elvis and how you were gonna spend your hypothetical prostitution money on a flight to memphis to see his grave and pay your respects, yuji was elated.
“what happened?! you have to tell me what happened come on you can’t keep it from me i’m just a boy—”
you skipped into the kitchen then and smoothly walked in between them, pressing a gentle cute peck to yuta’s lips before grabbing what you needed from the back and walking back out, yuji’s mouth flinging open and his jaw hitting the fucking floor.
“how— what— when— where—”
you stepped back in after a second and bounded over next to yuta, his eyes soft as he watched you lean your head on his shoulder.
“what?” you asked. “what’s wrong yuji?”
“oh god no!” he wailed, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes in agony. “i thought this is what i wanted but it’s not! i want a kiss like that man!”
he flew to his knees in front of you and took your hand in his. “y/n why can’t you just wait for me please?! wait five years you’re so pretty i won’t confuse you like this dingbat and i’ll give you better sweets and milkshakes than him please!—”
yuta took your hand and slapped yuji’s away. “you freak stand up man the floor is dirty—”
“i need a popular gorgeous girlfriend like you yuta! how could you do this?! i thought we were brothers?! what spell did you cast?! have you ever learned jujutsu?! what have i done!—”
your manager popped his head into the kitchen and you all stiffened.
“yuji why are you crying? everyone outside can hear you, kid.”
yuji flew to his feet and shook his head. “m’not crying sir. everything is fine just fine and dandy sir.”
“okay… well can you check on your tables? leave yuta and y/n to work.”
“yes sir i’ll check on them sir.”
your manager nodded, muttering something about today’s generation as he left and went back inside his office, yuji walking out of the kitchen shortly after with his head down as you both tried your hardest to keep your laughter in, hands tightly clasped over your mouths and silently snickering to keep yuji from hearing it on the other side.
“p—poor him.” you heaved, a hand over your chest. “i hope— i hope he finds his ‘popular girlfriend’ when he’s older.”
“i wish her luck.” he muttered, and your hand slapped back over your mouth again as you burst into another fit of giggles alongside him.
yuta sheepishly outstretched his arms for you once you both settled down, you perking up excitedly with a cutesy little grin as you skipped into them, your arms wrapping snug around his torso as he brought his around your shoulders and squeezed, earning a tiny squeak from you that made him laugh.
he hoped to god he wasn’t dreaming.
yuta started shifting his weight from one to the other, gently moving and swaying you side to side in the kitchen as you giggled and let him lead you like that.
“you slow dancing yu?” you murmured softly, head coming up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed.
“yeah..” he hummed. “i like it when we do.”
“i do too yu… it’s like our little thing! we’re so vintage.”
he snorted, and a charming beautiful smile spread across your face— one that made him wonder how he ever managed to land you when all he did was wait tables and stutter foolishly and wasn’t anyone particularly special like you were.
but you. you were everything. everything and way fucking more as you looked at him like he built the diner himself brick by brick for reasons he still couldn’t understand why.
yuta spoke after a moment.
“…what do you think of me?” he murmured suddenly, cheek mushing up against the side of your head as your brows furrowed.
“what do i think of you?” you asked, your perplexed face slowly shifting to one of realization as it dawned on you how yuta was reiterating your words to him from when you first met.
he grinned. “yeah.”
you pulled back to face him.
“i think you’re kind… you always have been even when i didn’t deserve it.”
his jaw dropped. “what? didn’t deserve it?—”
“i’m not finished!” you pouted, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he shut his lips.
“you’re too good to me yu…” you sighed a little. “you’re so helpful and selfless, and even when things piss you off you still take the time to appreciate them… like yuji.”
you both snickered then, and yuta brought his head down and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.
“i love the way you love, yuta. i love the way you love me and take care of me and always feed me…” you giggled. “without me ever having to ask.”
you felt his arms tighten around you.
“don’t ever think that you aren’t special to me or anyone or i’ll kill you and go to graceland without you.”
he laughed loudly in your neck and pulled back, half lidded ditzy loving eyes staring back as he leaned in and kissed you— gentle and delicate, his hands coming up to cup your warm cheeks.
“jesus man table nine would not stop asking me for— oh god no!”
you and yuta jumped apart, yuji immediately wailing and crying again as he flung himself to the floor on his knees.
“really?! in my kitchen?! in front of my face?! how cruel can you be yuta?! y/n can you maybe give me a ki—”
yuta leaned down and smacked him upside the head.
“owwwuhh! what’s wrong with just one little kiss man?!—”
“cut. it. out!—”
and just like always, the week came and went, sunday fast approaching as the day eventually came to close the diner together like lovely clockwork— wiping down tables and sweeping the floors, organizing the menu’s and restocking the crayons for the little kids, gulping down milkshakes with yuta like water as you worked…
but most importantly— sharing long kisses in between each sweeping rotation, kissing and pinching his cheeks repeatedly whenever he asked or did literally anything, and slow dancing to the same 50s love song that played when you first tried to kiss him at the bar that one night, swaying together in a silly way and giggling whenever you’d both nearly topple over to the floor— yuta beaming and lovesick as he looked down at your gorgeous smile and your gorgeous face… it gleaming with so much purpose, so much pure love and importance and value for him as you danced—
that yuta decided he wanted you to keep the other remaining half of him too.
forever.
this! is the song that was playing when reader was about to give yuta a kissy kissy on the bar counter, and again at the end if you’re curious :3 it was playing when i wrote it and it literally fit so well and lifted my entire body and spirit and i felt like i was THERE MAN! <333
taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs
(HATE when tumblr doesn’t let me tag some of yall i don’t know why it does that!!)
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#yuta okkotsu#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#yuta okkotsu x reader#jujutsu yuta#jjk yuta#yuta x reader#yuta okkotsu x you#jjk yuuta#jjk megumi#jjk x reader#jjk geto#jjk gojo#megumi fushiguro#yuji itadori#nanami kento x reader#choso kamo#choso x reader#jujutsu megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojo fluff
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Fake Dating // Bakugou
a/n: hi all, i am back from the dead with this shit that took me DAYS to finish bc my brain is def not used to writing anymore. pls enjoy and maybe keep a look out for PART 2 if people want it !
You stare at your phone in disbelief. The audacity he had to tell you where to go, how to dress, and to essentially perform in front of everyone for him. Of course this was a mutually beneficial agreement, but at least you only dragged him along to your family functions sparingly.
You two had come to this agreement early last Winter when family members kept pestering you about potentially finding a love interest at your new University, and for him when he couldn't shake off all of the romantic confessions from the students in the other classes.
No one else knew about your arrangement. What made it so much more unbearable was the fact that you shared the same cohort and friend group, so it was a constant facade whenever you're in each other's presence with the others around.
You felt a bit awkward coming to the party alone, and a few hours late. You could hear the bass thumping through the door from the front yard, and from the looks of it, there were far more people than you expected, but on the bright side, it'll be easier to be invisible within the crowd than have to hold up this facade all night.
You approached the front to see Jirou catching a breath of fresh air. She had a drink in one hand and her other interlocked with Momo's
"Are you guys already tapping out?" You asked, taking the steps up the porch.
"Y/N!! For a second I thought you weren't going to make it!" Jirou says, releasing Momo from her grasp and giving you a big hug. "I'm so happy you're here."
"Can't blame me for always being fashionably late” You embrace her back.
"Better now than never." She drunkenly chuckles “Bakugo’s been a moody bitch all night please go contain him”
“Are we surprised?” You roll your eyes and laugh. “Where are you two off to?”
"I'm gonna take Momo out for some air and to maybe vomit, but go inside and I'll find you later!"
“I love you Y/N!! Take a shot for me!!” Momo slurs and blows you a kiss as Jirou drags her away.
"I love you too, Mo! I'll catch you guys inside."
Once you stepped foot inside, it felt like the air from your lungs were instantly replaced with the thick fog of weed and cigarette smoke. It was suffocating, but all too familiar at the same time. You recognized many of the faces around from campus, but none of which were your close friends.
Before anything else, you decided to stop by the kitchen to pour yourself something to drink. To be honest, you weren't picky with your liquor. As long as it did its job, you weren't going to complain. You grabbed a red solo cup off of the stack and poured in a shot and some change worth of cheap vodka.
Mina has to have some red bull somewhere around here…
You quickly down it and refill another cup to carry around while you look for your ball and chain, Katsuki. You wander around the crowd for a few moments, waiting for someone you knew to catch your attention, but no one did. You decide to take a break to lean against a wall and to send Katsuki a text to see where he was hiding. Before you could even get your phone unlocked, you received a notification from him.
After he sent the last message, you looked up and searched for his meeting eyes. He said he was looking right at you, but for some reason you couldn't find those fiery eyes.
“Looking for someone?” A low voice breaks you from your search.
You turn to see Katsuki leaning up against the wall right beside you, almost shoulder to shoulder.
“Hmmm yeah I am, actually. Have you seen my boyfriend?” You turn to him fully. “He’s tall, messy blonde hair, kind of has a stupid look to his face, really hot though, trust me, and also like a medium build?”
You catch a glimpse of the smallest smirk on his face.
“Yeah? Well I’ll be sure to keep a lookout for him. In the meantime though, can you keep an eye out for my girlfriend? Angel faced, toothy smile, obnoxious ass laugh though, like if you hear honking, it's probably them.” He retaliates.
You both stare at each other in silence before you break character and playfully punch him in the arm. “Shut up, idiot. I don't honk.”
“You do. Like a goose.”
"You're so good at this flirting thing, Katsuki. Keep it up." You say sarcastically.
"It is my job, after all."
He stealthily wraps his arms around your shoulder, bringing himself in closer to you. He damn near was caging you in against the wall, blocking out the rest of the party with his back.
“So what's the game plan for tonight?” You peered up at his towering figure.
“Hang out for a couple hours, do all that lovey bullshit and then I’ll take you home. Don't get too messy tonight either. I’m not trying to babysit.”
“Worry about yourself, lightweight.” You roll your eyes.
“And is this straight vodka?" He looks into your cup with disgust. "Are you mentally ill?"
“I couldn't find the red bull.” You shrug.
“So it's either that or straight vodka?”
“Yeah and? You have a problem with that?”
“Yeah I actually do. It's fucking insan-” He starts.
“Bakugou!” A voice interrupts behind him. “There you are!”
You two lock eyes for a brief second. Just when you were actually starting to enjoy yourself with annoying Katsuki, you remember that you were only here for one reason. Katsuki's jaw clenched as he turned over to lean back against the wall beside you.
“Oh. Y/N you’re here too.” They say in a deflated tone. “I was just wondering if you could give us a second to chat?” They bat their eyelashes.
“I'm not in the mood to chat.” He says, pulling you closer by the waist.
“We’re actually about to go meet up with the others. Catch him next time.” You smile sweetly, interlocking your fingers with his and dragging him towards the backyard.
To your surprise, your friends were actually all there surrounding the firepit.
Denki was the first to spot you. He gasps and jumps up from his seat.
"You're here!" He nearly trips over his own feet trying to get over to you. He pulls you in a big hug, sweeping you off your feet. "Oh my god Y/N I missed you so much I could cry right now."
He was clearly a drink or two over his limit. His cheeks were bright red and he was already starting to sweat through his shirt.
“I missed you too, Denks.” You let yourself get twirled around by him.
“Finally you're back, I’m tired of holding onto your nasty drink.” Kirishima says, passing a red solo cup to Katsuki once he sat down.
You tried to take the empty seat next to him, but he immediately grabbed your wrist to pull you to share his chair. Your eyes widen at his own, as if you could telepathically curse him out. You clench your jaw as you feel a hot flash across your face.
“It’s cold. Stay close.” He simply says.
You nervously chuckle. “There's a fire right there, babe.”
“Do it for me then.” He smirks.
You silently groan to yourself as you lean back into his chest in defeat. Luckily, the chair had enough width to allow you to not have to fully sit on his lap, moreso just a leg slung over his own.
“Try this.” He lifts the solo cup to your lips.
You peer down at the dark red liquid in his cup. The smell burnt your nose. You shot him a weary glance before you downed his concoction, having to pinch your nose right after to subdue the burn. The shock of spicy and tangy residue left your throat burning with every inhale.
"What the fuck is that?" You choke out, continuing to pinch your nose.
"Fireball, lemon juice, and OJ." He smiled mischievously. "Thoughts?"
"The nerve you have to comment on my drink after sipping on this bullshit all night? It tastes like piss.”
He shrugs, wearing a lazy smile as he grips the softness of your inner thigh, with his other arm wrapped around your shoulder, fiddling with a lock of your hair.
You were internally screaming. Usually, there would be a hand holding or an arm around the waist or shoulder, but he was never this touchy whenever you had to act like a couple in front of your friends or even in front of the people trying to get at him.
You look around the firepit to see that all of your friends were in loud conversation with one another- laughing, arguing, and definitely not paying you two any attention.
“What are you doing?” You say low enough that only he could hear. “You're like, all up in my shit."
“5 o’clock, babe.” He simply says.
You slightly turn your head to your right to see the person from earlier, trying to not-so-obviously stare at you both.
“Tryna give them a show or something? You roll your eyes.
“Only if you'd let me.” He whispers.
You felt a chill crawl up your spine. God he's being gross. But you liked it. When you first made your little arrangement, you swore to yourself to not to catch any type of feelings for him, but the more time you spent charading around as a couple, the deeper you fell into this infatuation despite how hard you fought against it or played it off as a part of the bit.
“Don’t kill me, okay?” You whisper, meeting his eyes and forcing a smile.
You turned your head to fullyface his own and leaned in. Both of you were caught by surprise- his eyes widening right before you made contact. You two had never crossed this line before, let alone talked about it. It was only ever the unspoken rule of “don't catch feelings” and “no couple shit when we’re alone.”
His lips were soft and swollen as if he spent the last hour biting down on them. Once your lips crashed into his, it felt like your stomach was turning inside out, and a fire lit within.
It's fine, it's for show. It’s fine, you agreed to this. It’s fine, it’s not real.
You were fucked. You hated him, but you liked him. Maybe it was more than like. Maybe like isn't even the right word at all, but all you knew was that you needed to stop and take a second to reevaluate what you were doing with Katsuki.
In reality, the kiss lasted no more than 10 seconds, but it felt like you had fallen into the fire pit and laid in it for hours. Your body was on fire.
Once you broke away, you two stared at each other blankly, blinking away the realization of what had just happened. You didn't know whether to laugh and slap him on the shoulder, or start crying.
“I-I'm gonna go get another drink!” You suddenly exclaim, getting up and leaving him in his chair.
I'm so FUCKED.
You quickly snake your way through the large crowd that had filtered their way to the backyard. You stop by the kitchen to pour yourself a heaping cup of whatever liquor bottle was closest to you, down a large gulp, and take the rest with you to the bathroom.
Your head was starting to feel a bit hazy from the mix of second hand smoke as well as your drinks from earlier starting to settle in your stomach. Did you even eat anything before drinking like this? You weren't really expecting to have anything more than one drink, but after your kiss with Katsuki, you suddenly feel the need to forget it all.
You were sitting up against the bathtub, wallowing in your complicated mass of feelings, and now fully intoxicated. You let your head rest on top of your knees while you replayed every single interaction you've had with him tonight.
Your phone started buzzing on the floor next to you. You opened the screen, eyes squinting to adjust to the brightness.
Of course it was Katsuki.
You sat and stared at your feet for a few minutes until you heard pounding on the door. Judging from the force of it, it was either a fucking SWAT team or Katsuki.
You grab a hold of the side of the bathtub to hoist yourself up, stumbling a bit while doing so and unlocked the door. Of course behind it was the latter.
He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him, leaning back on it.
You were wildly embarrassed for a multitude of things. You were on the verge of messy drunk, your face was stupidly hot and flushed, you kissed your fake boyfriend and ran away, you're swallowing down your feelings, and now here he is to reprimand you for all of it.
"Water as per requested." He pops open the cap of a fresh water bottle and hands it over to you.
"Thanks." You mutter and drink the water in silence.
"So are you upset at me?" He finally asks.
"Yes."
"And why is that?" He cocks his head to the side.
You were drunk, no doubt about it, but this unserious playful tone in his voice that pissed you off was clear as day. Why were you the only one freaking out? Did he not care? It surely confirmed that he does not and never have felt the same as you and truly did think of your "relationship" as nothing more but a transaction.
You purse your lips and remained silent.
"Because... you kissed me?"
You nodded.
"So you're upset at ME... because YOU kissed ME..." He states once more.
You were on the verge of tears. He loved making you look stupid but this was tenfold now. Not that he was wrong, but you weren't in the mood for it.
"So what if I am?" You choke out, tears now brimming over.
Katsuki's eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to break down so easily after a couple of harmless questions. You steps towards you and grabs your shoulders, not quite sure what to do or how to react.
"Hey hey hey, what the fuck? Why are you crying all of the sudden? Seriously, Y/N it's not a big deal."
"It is." You whine. "It is and you don't even care!"
He finally pulls you into him, letting you sob into his shoulder. His hand caressing your back in comfort.
"You idiot." He says after a moment of silence. "You're such an emotional drunk. This is why I told you not to get messy." He scolds. "I do care. But I won't if you don't want me to."
"I do want you to care. I want you to like me. Not just like me, but like-like me." You confess.
You feel him stiffen under you. Clearly your drunken state had forced you to say the wrong thing, but you didn't care.
"But do you like-like me?" He asked back, pulling you back to look at your tear stained face. "Drink some more water and sober up a bit before you answer okay?" He brings the water up to your face.
"I don't want anymore water!" You push his hand away. "I like-like you and I hate being your fake girlfriend and lying to everyone and myself about it!"
His smile grew, but he shook his head. "Okay angel face, let's talk about it then." He moves his thumb up to your cheek to wipe away stray tears.
"You're so wasted, you may not even remember this for tomorrow. But I think you're the coolest person on this fucking block, okay? And I like being around you even though you annoy the shit out of me sometimes. So stop crying and feeling bad. We're fine."
"But we're not! I don't want you to be my fake boyfriend anymore. I think you're cool too and you make me laugh and feel stupid in the heart and I fucking hate you for that, so that's why we shouldn't do any of this anymore."
He doesn't reply, but instead looks down at your sad face, lip still quivering, makeup smudged around your eyes. His hand continued to cup you cheek, forcing you to look back up at him.
Katsuki leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, letting it linger for a second longer.
"That's okay. We can do something about that when you're sober. If you even remember any of this, anyways. Let's get you home."
He grabs your hand and swiftly leads you out of the bathroom. You wonder what you had just done, whether it was going to blow up in your face (if you even remember the next day) or work itself out? Would it even matter?
#mha x reader#my hero academia#mha#bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugouxreader#bnha oneshots#bnha x reader#boku no hero academia#fakedatingau
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