#maybe something is in the air this summer

[uconnwbbcrashout]

last winter break

prologue: “i know that i broke your heart”

paige x azzi

word count: 2.4k

content: mostly just angst and swearing (for now)

chapter list: here

author’s note: a bit of a prologue to set the scene for the next chapters. trust me when i say this won’t be the last of the angst. >:) enjoy!

Summer 2020

“Paige, hurry up! We needed to leave five minutes ago!”

“Gimme a minute!” Paige calls out her bedroom door, jamming one last workout shirt into her suitcase. “So damn impatient. Just tryna fuckin’ pack, man,” she mutters under her breath.

Azzi laughs quietly from her spot lounging across Paige’s bed and rolls her eyes. “You only had the entire summer to do it, P.”

Paige stops slamming her shoulder into the top of the suitcase and glares at her. “Whose side are you on here, Az?”

“Yours, obviously,” she answers easily.

“Alright, then prove it and help me with this,” Paige sighs, running her hand through her hair and gesturing to the mess of luggage on the floor. “Please,” she adds after a second, throwing Azzi one of the most pathetic looks she’s ever seen.

Azzi rolls her eyes again but slides off the bed and steps onto the top of Paige’s suitcase, bracing her hands on Paige’s shoulders for support. Azzi watches as Paige yanks the zipper shut and jumps up with a triumphant smile on her face. Before Azzi can even react, strong arms are wrapping tightly around her waist and lifting her off the suitcase and into the air.

“Paige!” she squeals, grasping onto the back of her shirt for dear life. She feels Paige burrow her face into her neck and start planting kisses there. She gets to a particularly ticklish spot below her ear and Azzi squirms to get out of her grasp.

“My hero,” she feels Paige smile into her neck, still holding her firmly around the waist a few inches off the ground.

Azzi pushes at Paige’s shoulders. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now please put me down.”

Paige obliges, slowly lowering Azzi back to the ground. Azzi moves to take a step back but is stopped from doing so by Paige’s unmoving hands, still planted upon her waist. Azzi looks up then, a smile forming on her face to match the one beaming back at her a few inches away. She shivers as Paige moves her hands up a bit, sliding beneath her cropped shirt. Azzi traces her hands up Paige’s arms to her shoulders, circling them around her neck and pulling her even closer.

Azzi takes a minute to take the sight in—the deep blue oceans in Paige’s eyes, the faint redness of her cheeks, the thin layer of sweat covering her forehead from the thick July heat, the messiness of blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, the slight parting of her lips, the strong line of her jaw, all of it. She lets her eyes roam freely, tries to commit the image to her memory, knowing that it’ll be far too long before she gets to be this close to Paige again. The trip from Minnesota to Connecticut isn’t exactly a quick one to make.

Azzi reaches her hand up to Paige’s jaw, stretching up on her toes and closing the gap between them. Just because she can. Just because she wants to.

She seems to catch Paige by surprise because she hears a quiet gasp before she feels soft lips press firmly against her own.

If Azzi had it her way, they’d stay in that moment forever. Young, perhaps a bit naïve, and full of love. Just the two of them, intertwined, with their lives stretched out endlessly before them.

Azzi pulls back first, keeps their foreheads pressed together, mumbles against Paige’s lips, “I’m gonna miss you, Paige. So much.”

She opens her eyes and leans her head back, watching as Paige swallows and smiles sadly. “Gon’ miss you too, Az.”

It’s quiet then, Paige looking down and reaching to scratch at the back of her neck. Azzi quirks her brow at that, eyes closely following Paige’s movements.

Why does she look so nervous?

Paige’s face shifts slightly then, the small furrow in her brow and the tenseness in her jaw a telltale sign that something is troubling her. And, yeah, maybe Paige had been acting a little stranger than usual today, but Azzi had chalked it up to nerves from moving across the country for the first time.

But now Paige is looking paler than usual, and Azzi is acutely aware of how sweaty her palms feel against the skin above her waist and something suddenly seems very, very wrong. “You okay, baby?” she asks, trying—and failing—to hide the concern she feels from her voice.

Paige clears her throat and blinks a couple times, the line between her eyebrows unmoving. Her eyes flit around the room, focusing on anything but Azzi. “Yeah, ‘course. I just, um. I just wanted to talk to you ‘bout somethin' is all.” Paige’s eyes finally meet Azzi’s then, and it feels like the usually calm waves in Paige’s eyes are pulling her in, drowning her now.

Azzi tries to give Paige her most reassuring smile, rubs a thumb gently across her cheek. “What is it? Is everything okay?”

Paige steps back then, grimacing, letting her hands drop and leaving Azzi feeling cold in the midst of the ungodly summer heat. She spins on her heel and starts pacing slightly in front of Azzi then, bringing her hand up to bite at her thumbnail. “Fuck, I’on know how to even say this.”

Okay, this must be really fucking bad, Azzi thinks.

Azzi shakily reaches out and pulls Paige’s hand away from her mouth. Paige drops her hand but keeps pacing, the furrow in her brow the deepest that Azzi thinks she’s ever seen. She tries to laugh it off. “Come on, P. What’s up? Just say it, okay?”

She watches as Paige seems to think hard for a moment before stopping and turning to face her with a pained expression upon her face. “I’on think we can keep doing this.”

Azzi’s heart drops straight to her stomach.

What?

“What do you mean? Keep doing what?”

Paige bites her lip and gestures between the two of them with her hand. “This. Us. Dating, I mean. We can’t keep doing this.”

Azzi isn’t sure whether she wants to laugh or cry. She thinks she ends up doing both, hearing some strange combination of the two choke its way out of her mouth. “Are you being serious?”

Paige is nodding her head, wiping at a tear in the corner of her eye, and, oh, fuck, she is actually being serious. “Yeah, I am. I just—I just don’t think we can. These things don’t work, you know? They don’t—they don’t last. I’m ‘bout to move across the country, Azzi. You gotta focus on your senior year and I gotta focus on all this college stuff, you know? It’s not gonna work out.”

“How can you possibly know that, P?” Azzi shakes her head, trying to clear the ringing from her ears. “How can you know that?”

Paige is crying now, Azzi can see the tears falling no matter how furiously Paige tries to wipe them away. “I just know, okay? I can see it. Look, I already figured it out—this is what we both need. Trust me, okay?”

Azzi blinks away the tears that are spilling over, scoffing incredulously, “So it’s over, just like that, huh? You don’t even want to try? Don’t even want to try to fight for us?”

“Azzi, come on, that’s not fair—”

“Not fair? You wanna talk about what’s not fair?” Azzi gestures wildly, her hands moving without thought. “How about you not even letting me be part of this decision. Did you ever even stop to think about what I wanted?”

“Azzi, I did. I—”

A car horn blares incessantly from the driveway. “Paige, in the car! Now!”

“Man, would you hold on a minute?” Paige yells back, her voice cracking.

Azzi isn’t normally an angry person, not in the slightest. But in this moment, she feels her sadness snowballing into fury so quickly that she can’t stop it.

“You couldn’t have fucking done this earlier, Paige? Just had to wait until the last second, huh?”

“Azzi, I’m sorry. God, this is so fucking hard. But I swear, it’ll be good for us.” Paige takes a step forward, moving like she’s going to reach out to Azzi before dropping her hand and balling it into a fist at her side. “We can still be friends. I mean, I still wanna be friends. That’s okay, right?”

Azzi actually spits out a laugh at that, feeling the blood rush to her head. “Yeah, sure. Friends.”

“I mean we did it before, didn’t we? Like five years or somethin'?”

Memories flood Azzi’s mind then, not of just the past two years they have been—had been—together, but all those years before that. The first day they met out on the basketball court after school. The endless summer nights at the park, the sleepless sleepovers, the bike rides across town for ice cream on a muggy day like today. The onset of feelings, the brushing of hands, the blushing of cheeks. The joint family holidays, the secret looks shared across the room, the hands held under the table. The first kiss at the state fair, the first time after prom, the first “I love you” whispered in the dark, the first moment of knowing what it felt like to be falling in love.

All those moments, all those memories, usually so bright and airy as they float across her mind, now swirl into a vortex, leaving Azzi with a bitter taste in her mouth.

I just want all of you, she thinks. I don’t know how I can live with just part of you knowing what it feels like to have it all.

The anger finally gives way, allowing the sadness to settle over her once again. “I don’t know, P. I really don’t know. I—I’m sorry, I don’t think I can be around you and just forget about everything I feel for you.”

Paige closes her eyes, rubbing a hand across her forehead.

“Paigey?” a third voice calls out tenatively from the hallway.

Azzi turns to see Drew standing in the doorway, playing with his hands. “Dad said we need to leave now.”

She hears Paige sigh and turns back around toward her. She’s giving Drew a small smile. “Okay, buddy. Tell ‘em I’ll be right there. Wanna take this to the car for me?” she asks, pushing her last suitcase forward.

Drew runs over and starts pulling the luggage out of the room, struggling to move it given that it’s about as big as him. “I gotcha, Paigey.”

Paige is talking as soon as he rounds the corner out of the room. “Azzi, I’m really sorry. I gotta go. Maybe we’ll see each other over winter break. That’ll work, right? You gon’ be okay?”

Maybe things could be fine. Maybe it’ll be just like Paige said.

Maybe it’s for the best.

Maybe if she tells herself that enough times she’ll actually believe it.

She tries to clear her head, tries not to read too far into the conversation.

But Azzi, ever the overthinker, is already reading between lines that haven’t even been drawn.

You’re not enough for her.

You’re holding her back.

She just wants to be free from you.

“I’ll be fine,” she hears herself say, her voice wavering. “Just—please just go, Paige.”

The look Paige gives her is skeptical, but there just isn’t time to say how she really feels. There never will be.

Paige glances around the room, seemingly doing a double-check for all of her things before her eyes settle on Azzi one last time. She looks like she’s debating something in her head before she leans over and presses a featherlight kiss to Azzi’s temple.

Azzi tries to swallow back a cry, tries to keep her legs from giving out, tries to stop her wildly pounding heart from fracturing into two.

Paige pulls back after what feels like an eternity, eyes still glossy with tears, and trails her hand against Azzi’s cheek.

And then she’s brushing past her and out of the room without a word.

*****

Paige has been many things to Azzi over the years – a high school rival, an acquaintance, a teammate, a best friend, a girlfriend.

Her second half.

Azzi never really considered that she’d have to add another word to that list: her ex.

But as she watches Paige’s car back out of the driveway and out of her life, Azzi wonders if she should’ve seen this coming.

And for the first time in her life, she’s dreading the next time she’ll have to see her again.

*****

paige 💗: i'm so so sorry azzi

paige 💗: didnt wanna hurt you. i rlly didn’t, thought this would be better. for both of us

paige 💗: ion want this to be goodbye azzi

paige 💗: we can be friends i swear

changed user’s contact name to “p”

*****

p: uconn is rlly cool az

p: the team the school all of it

p: youll love it here i know it

p: maybe i can call and tell you bout it sometime if thats somethin you want

p: just lmk i guess

*****

p: az

p: it’s been 2 months

p: i miss my best friend. i miss you.

p: i’m sorry

p: i dunno what to say

p: you don have to say anything back. i get it

p: just hope youre ok

*****

p: happy birthday az!!

p: i know we not rlly talkin but just want you to know im thinkin bout you

p: hope your day is good. you deserve it

changed user’s contact name to “p (IGNORE)”

*****

8 missed calls from “p (IGNORE)”

p (IGNORE): azzi pick up

p (IGNORE): i saw the live

p (IGNORE): maryland?? rlly ???

p (IGNORE): what bout uconn?? us playin together? thats what it was always gonna be

p (IGNORE): i know i fucked up i know but pls think about this

p (IGNORE): fuck azzi fuck

*****

p (IGNORE): imma leave you alone

p (IGNORE): im sorry again

p (IGNORE): good luck. jus w everything i guess

p (IGNORE): damn. never thought id say that to you

p (IGNORE): fuck

p (IGNORE): bye azzi

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere sugar daddy made me giggle with him buying me a car 🚗 Cuz I can’t drive…This then led me to think how fucked I am in a relationship with any of your yanderes cuz I’m practically a sitting duck 🦆 What am I going to do if I wanna get away from them? Wait on the side of the road to take a public transport bus? 🚌 Or do I gotta bike my way to freedom? 🚲 😭

Speaking of vehicles though…for the yanderes that this question is appreciable…what’re the cars they drive vs. the dream car or car that you think fits their aesthetic? 🚗

Also who’s ok with me being their cute lil passenger princess? 👑

girl, it's so embarrassing but I can't drive either 😭

Atp, I think we'll need to Uber our way to freedom. Tip the drive 100% in case of damages caused by deranged exes.

Yandere boys and their cars

Yandere! Boyfriend definitely drives a Jeep wrangler. He's a big guy and he needs the extra space. I also see him as the more outdoorsy type, so a Jeep is perfect for all his hiking and climbing gear. He loves his car for the sole reason that you like sitting shotgun in summer, the roof down and your hair blowing in the wind. It makes for a damn pretty sight.

Yandere! State Trooper is assigned one of those State Police Dodge Challengers. All American muscle that thrums up through the seats. If there's ever a car chase or an evading suspect, he's first on the scene. On quiet nights, he'll head to the highway and gun it. V8 engine roaring even louder than the sirens. He's not supposed to, but he likes taking you for a drive now and then. He likes the way you cling to the dash and shake when he blows through the speed limit.

Yandere! Cop is a certified Ford pickup kind of guy. It's got space, it's got power but most importantly, it doesn't stand out. This is Middle America baby, they're everywhere. When he follows you, he knows for a fact you won't notice him. His only customization is the extremely tinted windows. Can't have you seeing his face when he takes all those pictures of you, now can he?

Yandere! Academic Rival has trustfund money to spend and his daddy's whole garage to choose from. For everyday, I can see him driving a BMW or Audi roadster. Sleek, sporty and modern. But on the weekends, when he's driving up the coast to his country house, he's definitely taking something vintage. He has a whole collection of luxury old money convertibles - every single one of them something you expect to see at St. Moritz.

Yandere! Mobster drives a Cadillac Town Sedan. It's got a powerful engine to outrun the pigs and plenty of trunk space to stash smuggled alcohol. He absolutely adores taking you on long drives. Windows open to catch the fresh air, picnic basket on the back seat, your head resting on his shoulder on the way home... What's not to love?

Yandere! Sugar Daddy is new money. And a tech nerd. So I see him mostly driving electric cars, maybe a Porsche Taycan for 'everyday use' (who the hell drives a Porsche like a regular commuter car? Your Croesus rich boyfriend, that's who). And something extra luxurious for weekends and date nights - probably something like the Yangwang U9. He loves messing around with the extra features and plugging the cars into his computer diagnostic system. Surprisingly, he's not that fond of actually driving. He much prefers you do it and let him enjoy the scenery.

Yandere! Werewolf drives a vintage cherry red Mustang. He bought it cheap off an older guy who hated the repairs, and spent all summer working on it. By extension, that meant you spent all summer sprawled across the backseat, thumbing through fashion magazines and listening to golden oldies on the radio. It's got plenty of space and if he was the kinda guy to make a move on a girl at the drive in, this would be the car to do it in.

[beenbaanbuun]

sun w/ jung wooyoung

words - you know the drill

genre - hurt/comfort

——————————————————————————

if he’s the sun, then you’re the moon, illuminated only by the reflection of his light. it shines from his face in beams, loud laughter and wide grin dancing through the air until it reaches you, and you light up as well. you’re not quite as bright as he is, and you’re not sure you ever will be, but this is enough for you. to let his rays shine down on you; for him to let you shine them right back at him. it’s more than you wanted, honestly.

more than you expected.

but sometimes, wooyoung argues that it’s what you needed. on the days that his light doesn’t quite illuminate you quite as bright, and you sit and tell him that you don’t deserve him, he simply calls you a liar and drags you down to the sofa with him. “you deserve more than me, baby,” he coos softly in your ear as he smothers you with everything he has to offer. his warmth, his light, his everything, “you deserve the sun on a silver platter.” you’ve yet to tell him that it’s already in your possession, holding you to its chest like you’re the most precious thing in the world. perhaps one day you will; no doubt it’ll bring out a smile so bright it blinds you all over again.

“i don’t deserve you,” you insist, although your body betrays your words. perhaps it’s pure selfishness that keeps you clinging to him despite knowing that you’re not quite good enough to hold him so close, or perhaps it’s the pure need to have some goodness in your life. you’re not sure, but either way you’re not quite ready to let go of him just yet, “you’re so… bright!”

he scoffs as if you’ve said something ridiculous. you haven’t; he’s the centre of your solar system, the only reason for you to smile each and every morning. he’s brighter than the big ball of gas in the sky, and if you weren’t so intent on keeping him by your side, you’re sure that he’d be up there doing its job instead.

“you’re brighter,” he lies, although his words drip with enough sincerity that you could almost believe them, “you make me bright.”

no.

you don’t.

because you’re the moon and he is the sun. he could shine bright without you, but you could never dream of shining again without him by your side. he is the reason you shine, not the other way around.

“no, i don’t,” you mutter into his chest, defiance dripping from your tongue. he must think you’re joking with the way he chuckles into your scalp, but you’re not. you mean every word.

“are you calling me a liar?”

are you? maybe, although you’ve never accused him of lying before. relationships are built on trust, are they not? to accuse him of fibbing to you would be to turn that whole concept on his head! you don’t like that idea, so you push it away.

“i’m just saying that i can’t make you brighter,” you huff, and again, he seems amused.

“why is that, baby?” he presses a soft kiss to your crown as his arms tighten around you like a warm summer breeze that flutters by you. it’s hard not to let yourself relax entirely into his chest, sighing gratefully as he lets you get comfortable.

“because you make me brighter,” you admit softly, and for a moment the room is silent.

he hums, contemplation laced into the quiet sound.

“well that is a conundrum, isn’t it?” he says after a moment, and you can feel him grinning against the mop of hair atop your head, “how about you stay here and keep me warm while i try and figure this paradox out, hm?”

[loverboysturn]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ it's the night before the first day back after summer break for popular!chris & cinderella!reader !

BoyOnTheField is Chris | NewYorkDreamer is Reader

you can't believe you're here again.

it’s your night off but your stepmother has called you in, you find yourself wiping down the counters at the diner, your rag worn thin from the years of constant use, the flickering neon sign outside buzzed in the cold evening air, but inside, the diner was warm—the way it always had been to you, comforting, the smell of fresh coffee filled the room, and for a moment, when you were here, you could forget everything else.

working at the diner wasn’t just a job for you, it was a home away from your home, sure, your stepmother took the money and called the shots, but the workers here were like family, they were the ones who looked out for you, the ones who always helped you pick up the pieces and treated you like their own.

the bell above the door jingled, signaling a new wave of customers, you take a deep breath and straighten up. it was busy tonight, the usual end of summer rush, tomorrow was the first day back at school and you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to change but orders were coming in thick and fast, coffee cups needing to be refilled, and the sound of silverware clinking against plates was enough to keep you distracted.

you glance towards the back room where your phone sat on the counter, you’d been avoiding checking it too often, but couldn’t help yourself, he had messaged you again. your messages becoming a quiet escape for you even though you didn’t know who he was or what he looked like. you had met him on the school's online forum where he had asked for help with an assignment, you replied, offering advice, and you started talking more, first about school then quickly about everything else, never revealing your first names, keeping things simple, the conversations kept flowing, casual at first but slowly became something more, the anonymity of the app allowed you both to say things you couldn’t share with anyone else, you didn’t have to be the quiet girl working in the diner, you could just be yourself and talking to him had become a daily habit that neither of you expected.

you sneak a glance back at your phone, and quickly read his message.

18:08 BoyOnTheField are you ready for the first day back tomorrow? it feels like everything is about to change.

you smile at the screen, the words feeling heavier than they should have, tomorrow everything would change, you’d walk into school, just like everyone else, you might pass each other in the halls, sit in the same classrooms, but neither of you would know who the other was.

what if you came face to face and didn’t know it? would he recognise you in some way? or was it just going to be another ordinary first day back at school, both of you pretending to be someone else but maybe that’s what you wanted, no pressure, no expectations.

a few more hours pass, and the evening rush begins to die down. regulars trickled out, leaving the quiet that always follows the chaos of a busy shift.

as you gather your things, your phone buzzes again, and you quickly check it again before heading out.

20:31

BoyOnTheField

do you think we will ever meet? or will it be like this forever?

you hesitate to reply, heart skipping a beat, you didn’t have the answer for that, but whether you met in person or not, the connection that had blossomed between you had become so real and something you didn’t want to lose.

20:35 NewYorkDreamer soon! for now, this is enough :)

you tuck your phone away, thought of tomorrow still lingering in your mind, you didn’t know what the future held, but for once, the uncertainty didn’t feel so scary, tomorrow could be the start of something new or maybe it would just be another day but you couldn’t help but hope that, maybe, just maybe, it would be different.

chris gripped the edge of the seat in the back of his brother’s car, the engine rumbling and nick and matt’s loud chatter filling the space around him, but he wasn’t listening, his mind was elsewhere, on the conversation he’d been having all week.

practice had been the same—his dad’s voice still echoed in his head, always pushing him to be more, to meet expectations he wasn’t sure he wanted, but the late night messages with her had become his escape, she didn’t know who he was, and he didn’t know her, it was never about football, or his father’s plans for his future.

he pulled out his phone and typed quickly, replying to her last message, watching the dots blink on the screen before he hits send.

21:00 BoyOnTheField it’ll be worth the wait

he pauses, before sending another message.

21:00 BoyOnTheField hopefully i’ll be seeing you tomorrow, even if i don’t realise it.

he hit send, feeling a rush of anticipation take over his chest, he didn’t expect an answer tonight, she was always slow to reply, always busy, but he hoped his message would make her smile, wherever she was.

as the car pulls into the driveway, chris slips his phone into his back pocket, a grin to himself tugging at the corner of his mouth.

tomorrow, they’d both be in the same place, but still strangers, and, he was okay with that—for now.

find their introduction here !

send me asks about popular!chris & cinderella!reader. i wanna talk about them :)

also if you saw me accidentally post this an hour ago… ooops no you didn’t!

enjoy 🩵

[starkeymuse]

decode | rafe cameron | part three

summary: grace knew the outer banks were full of dangerous currents, but she never expected rafe cameron to be one of them.

warnings: violence, slight mentions of abuse, mentions of blood.

note: the friendly neighborhood kook is here :)

✧ listen to: seventeen going under by sam fender + affection by between friends

the summer heat still clung to the air even as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the outdoor movie screen. the weekly movie night was a staple in obx during the summer, drawing crowds from all over the island. the grass was packed with kids sprawled on blankets, cheap folding chairs, and the occasional truck bed. laughter and the hum of idle conversation filled the air, blending with the speakers that announced the movie was about to start.

we decided to come tonight because sarah and john b were having dinner at sarah's house with her dad, ward. hopefully, they’d be able to get the maps without anyone noticing. this was also known as, the first step to getting the gold. kie and sarah hadn’t exactly mended their rift, but they agreed to be civil for now.

i stood in line at the concession stand, tapping my foot against the uneven gravel. kie had asked for a bag of popcorn, and jj and pope wanted sodas. i was debating whether or not to grab myself an ice cream when i felt someone step up behind me. my skin prickled. i didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“hey grace, what’s up?” rafe’s voice carried over, laced with a grin i could practically hear. pulling at my focus while setting me on edge. it wasn’t fair, the way it could make me feel, like the ground wasn’t steady beneath me.

“ugh- you again?” i asked, crossing my arms and turning to face him. heat was rushing to my face. i hated how he could do that.

“topper and kelce know what pope and jj did,” he said, his tone quiet but heavy.

my frown deepened. “what are you talking about?”

rafe’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering over the crowd before locking back on me. “the boat,” he said. “they know.”

his words hit like a splash of cold water, leaving me blinking as i tried to process. the boat? what boat? a knot of dread began forming in my stomach, and for a split second, i thought about pushing him for more details.

"i seriously don't know what you're talking about” i admitted, my voice quieter now. i searched his face for answers, but he didn’t give me any. instead, he just shook his head, his lips pressing into a thin line, and walked away. his broad shoulders, tensed and rigid, disappeared into the crowd. it was infuriating, the way he could drop something like that and disappear.

my hands felt clammy as i grabbed the drinks and popcorn, the flimsy cups trembling in my grip. i hurried back to our blanket, nearly spilling jj’s coke on a toddler who darted in front of me. when i finally dropped onto the grass beside kie, she gave me a weird look.

what the fuck did you do?” i demanded, my voice harsher than i intended. i turned to jj and pope, who both froze mid-sip of their drinks.

“uh, what?” jj asked, feigning innocence as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“rafe just told me that topper and kelce know what you did,” i said, narrowing my eyes. “the boat? what the hell did you do?”

pope winced, and jj let out a nervous laugh.

“okay, so maybe we… kinda sunk topper's boat,” jj admitted, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

“you what?” kie hissed, her head snapping toward him.

“it was pope’s idea,” jj said, throwing up his hands. “they’ve been terrorizing us for years. it was payback!”

“hey, don’t pin it all on me,” pope shot back, glaring at jj. “you were the one who said, and i quote, ‘let’s see if topper can swim!’”

kie groaned, burying her face in her hands. “you two are actual idiots.”

“idiots with a cause,” jj said, smirking as he reached for his soda. “you’re welcome.”

“yeah, thanks for painting a giant target on our backs,” i muttered, rubbing my temples. my pulse was already racing, and i had a sinking feeling this night was about to get a lot worse.

“oh, come on,” jj said, leaning back on his elbows. “what’s the worst that could happen? topper tries to fight us again?"

"yes that's exactly what could happen." i corrected him. i understood why they did it, but they got caught so easily, and what annoyed me the most was that they didn't tell us.

about fifteen minutes later, jj and pope stood up, muttering something about needing to "wring it out". they disappeared behind the massive movie screen, leaving kie and me to exchange annoyed glances. i couldn’t shake the tension building in my chest. something felt off.

voices. raised, sharp, and cutting through the noise of the movie and the chatter around us.

kie’s head snapped toward the screen. “do you hear that?"

i didn’t answer. i was already on my feet, my heart pounding as we ran toward the sound. we rounded the screen just in time to see kelce and jj going at each other, fists flying. topper was on the ground, choking pope, his hands wrapped around his throat.

get off him!” kie screamed, rushing toward them.

kie was already trying to pull kelce off jj, but he shoved her away. i threw myself at topper, clawing at his arms to get him off pope, with a snarl, he shoved me back so hard i hit the ground, pain exploding in my head as it smacked against the ground.

for a split second, my vision blurred, and i was back in a moment, my father’s rough hands pushing me to the ground, anger simmering behind his eyes. the memory hit me like a tidal wave, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

i barely had time to process what was happening when rafe appeared out of nowhere, grabbing topper by the collar and yanking him off pope. he didn’t hesitate, landing a punch square on topper’s jaw.

rafe’s voice cut through again, his words a furious growl, “what the fuck did I tell you, topper?” but even as he yelled, i could barely process it, my head spinning and my body aching from the fall. the anger in his voice seemed distant, too far away to grasp. all i could do was try to steady myself, feeling the world tilt and spin around me.

as i pushed myself up, my hands shaking. the chaos around me felt muted, distant, like i was underwater. my head throbbed, and when i reached up to touch my forehead, my fingers came away sticky with blood.

my body was on autopilot, moving without thought as I tried to make sense of what was happening. the fight was spiraling out of control. jj and kelce were still at it, and rafe was right there, caught in the madness. but all I could think about was stopping it, somehow.

then I saw it—kiara’s bag on the ground, tossed carelessly as the fight raged on. without thinking, i ran to it, my hands trembling as i fumbled to grab the lighter from inside. the small object felt strangely heavy in my palm, the idea hit me. my pulse was loud in my ears as i flicked the lighter to life, the flame shooting up in the dark.

with shaky hands, i held it close to the edge of the movie screen and watched as the flames crept along the fabric. they caught quickly, and within moments, the screen was alight, the orange glow lighting up the area around us.

“jesus!” someone yelled. “what the hell?!”

the fighting stopped immediately, everyone frozen in place, staring at the flames that had started to eat through the movie screen. the crackle of the fire filled the air, and the smell of burning fabric made me cough. my eyes darted between my friends, each of them looking stunned, some still catching their breath from the fight.

i felt a mix of panic and relief, my hands still shaking as I watched the fire burn. it was done. the fight was over. i glanced over my shoulder, I saw topper and kelce scrambling away.

“hey!” jj’s voice echoed “grace, let's go!”

i turned around just in time to see him, pope, and kie running toward her car. but i wasn't done, just yet. i was already moving toward rafe.

"what the fuck was that?” i said, my voice full of anger.

“i didn’t know they were gonna do that,” rafe shot back, his frustration matching mine. “i told you—topper knew about the boat, but i had no idea he was gonna come after you guys again.”

i stared at him, disbelief lacing my words. “that’s why you told me they knew? because they were going to come after us again?”

he looked away, running a hand through his hair, before locking eyes with me again. “i thought i could stop it. i thought it wouldn’t go this far.”

“well, you were wrong,” i snapped, trying to keep my voice steady. “seems like you’re always trying, it's like your favorite word lately.”

rafe’s face hardened for a moment, but his gaze shifted to my hand, smeared with blood. the anger drained from him in an instant, replaced by something softer. something like concern. “you’re bleeding.”

i quickly wiped at my face, trying to ignore it, but it was obvious.

“jesus,” rafe muttered under his breath, taking a small step closer. “you’re hurt. let me see.”

i tried to back away, but he followed, his eyes too focused, too intense. i couldn’t keep avoiding him—not now.

“grace,” rafe said softly, his voice lower, almost like he was afraid of scaring me. i didn’t give him a chance to say more before his hand was at the back of my head, gently tilting it as he examined the cut on my forehead.

his touch was so careful, so unexpectedly tender. it threw me off. i froze, not knowing what to do, what to feel. everything was already too much, and this wasn’t helping.

“that's pretty bad,” rafe murmured, his voice almost a whisper. i wanted to tell him i was fine, but the words felt like they were stuck in my throat.

“i’m fine,” i muttered quickly, stepping back, but my hands were shaking too much. damn it, i hated this. my heart raced, but for an entirely different reason now. i didn’t know what he was doing to me.

“don’t give me that bullshit,” rafe said, a little more firmly. “let me help.”

i shook my head, stepping back again, trying to get space between us. my breath was shallow, still feeling the rush of the fight. but his eyes never left mine. they were too intense, too much.

“i need to go,” i said, the words cracking in my throat.

without waiting for a response, i walked off, refusing to look back this time.

we stumbled into the château, the screen door slamming behind us. john b and sarah were sitting on the couch, laughing about something, but their faces froze when they looked up and saw us.

“what the hell happened?” john b shot to his feet, his eyes scanning the bruises and blood on all of us.

“topper and kelce happened,” kie said, dropping her bag onto the table with a thud.

“again?” sarah asked, her arms crossing tightly.

jj leaned against the wall, a cocky grin tugging at his busted lip. “Yeah, but this time, we really gave them something to cry about.”

“jj…” john b’s voice had that warning tone, and jj just shrugged.

“we sunk topper’s boat,” he said nonchalantly like he was reporting the weather.

“you what?” sarah’s voice shot up an octave, and john b looked like he might combust on the spot.

“you’re welcome!” jj said, throwing his arms out. “no need to thank us all at once.”

john b groaned, rubbing his temples. “are you kidding me? why the hell would you do that?”

“because they wouldn’t leave us alone!” pope cut in, his voice defensive. “we’ve tried everything else. this was the only way to get revenge.”

“oh, yeah, genius plan,” sarah shot back. “because obviously, sinking their boat totally de-escalated the situation.”

“obviously not,” jj said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “which is why they jumped us. you're catching on, sarah. gold star.”

“jj.” i muttered, shooting him a look.

“what?” he asked, feigning innocence. “i’m just saying, if anyone’s getting a ‘most dramatic reaction to a sunken boat’ award, it’s definitely topper. his family are millionaires, there will probably be a new one in the water by tomorrow.”

“not helping,” kie snapped.

john b threw his hands up. “you didn’t think maybe we should talk about it first?”

“talk about what?” jj retorted. “oh, hey, guys, let’s have a civilized chat about how topper’s been terrorizing us for weeks. maybe we’ll bake him a cake while we’re at it.”

“jesus christ, jj.” john b muttered, shaking his head.

“look,” pope cut in, trying to bring some sense to the conversation. “we didn’t expect this to happen, okay? and you know what else? i definitely didn’t expect rafe to show up and save my ass.”

“what?” sarah asked, her eyebrows furrowing.

“rafe,” pope repeated. “he pulled topper off me. took him down, too.”

john b’s jaw tightened. “rafe helped you?”

“for once, yeah,” kie said, crossing her arms. “if he hadn’t shown up, it would’ve been a lot worse.”

sarah looked skeptical. “and you’re sure he wasn’t in on it?”

“don’t care why he was there,” jj said, flopping onto the couch with a wince. “all i know is, he threw one hell of a punch. kinda satisfying, honestly.”

“he wasn’t in on it,” i cut in. everyone turned to look at me, the room going quiet for a moment. i folded my arms, ignoring the sting in my scraped-up elbows. “rafe. he didn’t know topper and kelce were going to jump us, he was trying to stop it. he told me that.”

kie raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “and you believe him?”

i hesitated, my gaze dropping to the floor for a second. “yeah, i do,” i said finally, meeting her eyes again. “he didn’t have to show up at all, but he did. and he helped. whether we like it or not.”

“don’t give rafe all the credit,” jj said, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced at me. “grace, nice job lighting the screen on fire. honestly, one of my favorite things you've ever done.” he lifted his hand for a high five, wincing slightly as he shifted on the couch.

i stared at him for a moment before finally slapping his hand. “thanks, jj. glad my moment of sheer panic entertained you.”

“entertained? that was genius,” he said, leaning back with a smirk.

john b was still pacing, clearly trying to digest everything. "so let me get this straight—topper and kelce come after us because you guys sank their boat, rafe shows up out of nowhere to help, and then grace pulls off a fire stunt to distract them."

“yup,” jj said, his grin widening.

john b dropped his hands to his hips, shaking his head. "god, what a mess. next time, we’re talking things through before we do anything this reckless."

“next time,” sarah said, sounding a little exasperated, “maybe we keep the boat-sinking plans to a minimum, huh?”

“deal,” jj and pope replied in sync.

the room started to feel lighter as the tension faded, and i let out a breath i hadn’t realized i’d been holding. but my mind kept drifting back to rafe, how he had appeared out of nowhere, pulling topper off pope like it was nothing.

i thought i hated him, but in that moment, i couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to him than i realized. then there was that touch—his hand brushing my face, wiping the blood away. i hated how it made my heart race, but it also made me rethink everything. and now, with my friends seeing that rafe had helped us, i felt a small, unexpected relief. maybe there was more to him than the reckless, asshole guy i’d always thought he was. for the first time, i didn’t feel guilty for wondering if i’d been wrong about him. maybe he wasn’t such a bad person after all.

did you guys get the maps?” i asked, trying to shift my focus from rafe.

sarah let out a frustrated sigh, shaking her head. “no. my dad's office was locked, and i couldn’t find the key.” she glanced at john b, her tone a little apologetic. “we’ll have to go back in a day or two, when ward and rose leave for the day. but… i was thinking maybe someone other than john b should come with me this time.”

john b raised an eyebrow. “what, you don’t trust me?”

“i trust you,” sarah said quickly. “but it’s just... it might be better if it’s someone else this time. someone my dad doesn't know.”

she had a point. none of us wanted to take the risk of running into trouble again.

"i’m thinking grace should come with me,” sarah added, looking at me with a smile. “you’re not really tied to my family, so it’ll look less obvious if we get caught, and we could be in and out faster."

i nodded, realizing how solid her plan was. “i can do it,” i said, trying to sound confident even though i felt a little nervous. “we’ll be in and out.”

kie, who had been listening, spoke up. “just be careful, both of you. this whole thing is a lot more dangerous than it seems.”

“i know,” sarah replied.

i noticed it right away. there was no sarcasm in kie’s voice, no snappy remark. it wasn’t like they were suddenly best friends or anything, but for the first time in a while, there was an understanding between them. it was small, but it was there. and it made me smile.

i didn’t say anything about it, but i couldn’t ignore that moment.

work had been exhausting, my feet ached, and the smell of food clung to my clothes, a stark reminder of the hours i’d spent hustling around marcy's. the sky was already dark as i locked up and made my way to my bike, ready to head home and crash for the night.

just as i swung my leg over the seat, my phone buzzed in my pocket. i pulled it out and saw kie’s name pop up on the screen.

kie: party tonight! perkins beach.

i paused, rereading the text. after everything that had gone down yesterday with topper, rafe, and the rest of the mess, i wasn’t sure i had the energy for a party. but at the same time, maybe blowing off some steam wouldn’t be the worst idea.

me: when?

her reply came almost instantly.

kie: now. please come!!!

the ride home was quick, and after a quick shower to rinse off the day, i threw on a fresh set of clothes. the possibility of seeing rafe crossed my mind. maybe it shouldn’t have mattered, he was probably at every party on the island but after yesterday, the idea of seeing him made my chest flutter. i shook the thought away. it wasn’t like we were friends, and whatever happened yesterday didn’t mean anything. at least, that’s what i kept telling myself.

the night air was warm, but the breeze from the water kept it bearable. the beach was alive with music, laughter, and the sounds of waves crashing against the shore. it was a mixed crowd of kooks and pogues, but the division didn’t feel as stark. everyone was just here to have a good time, or at least that’s what i told myself as i downed another drink, trying to ignore the guy who wouldn’t stop talking to me.

i didn’t even know his name, but he was persistent. his words were just a blur of nonsense as he babbled on about some party in the city or something. his hands moved all over the place as he talked, and i couldn't help but zone out, my eyes scanning the crowd.

that’s when I saw him.

rafe stood at the edge of the group, leaning against a tree, half-heartedly nodding at whatever someone was saying to him. but the moment our eyes met, there was that smirk, half cocky, half amused, and i could feel heat flushing my cheeks. i quickly looked away, shaking my head at myself. the guy talking to me didn’t notice, still going on about whatever pointless story he was telling.

“yeah, i-” the guy said, but i wasn’t listening anymore. i was just thinking about that look from rafe.

i swigged the last of my drink, half expecting it to be a little stronger than it was, but it didn’t matter. the buzz was creeping in, and the warmth in my chest was making me forget about the guy talking my ear off.

“alright, i’m gonna go check on my friends,” i interrupted him, and without waiting for a response, i pushed through the crowd and made my way toward the water, hoping to find some space to breathe.

i was standing at the edge of the water, my toes sinking into the cool sand as the gentle waves lapped over them. the noise of the party felt far away now, distant laughter and music blending into the hum of the ocean. the alcohol buzzed lightly in my veins, making the stars above seem brighter, the air softer.

i heard footsteps approaching and i already knew who it was.

“oh, look,” i said, lifting my drink with a sarcastic flourish. “our friendly neighborhood kook is here."

rafe’s actually laughed at that, shaking his as he stopped a few feet away. “friendly? that’s a stretch. but I’ll take it.”

i rolled my eyes, turning my gaze back to the water. “shouldn’t you be off brooding in a corner somewhere or watching your friends terrorize someone?”

“nah,” he said, stepping closer. “brooding’s overrated. and as for terrorizing, i thought i’d give you a break tonight.”

“how considerate,” i shot back, glancing at him. “truly, you’re a saint.”

“don’t push it,” he replied, grinning.

we stood there in silence for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore the only thing filling the air. i could feel his eyes on me, though, and it made my skin feel too warm.

he stopped beside me, his presence annoyingly magnetic. without a word, he tilted his head, studying me. his eyes lingered on the small bandage near my hairline, and before i could stop him, his hand reached up.

“rafe,” i warned, but he ignored me, his thumb gently tracing over the the bandage.

“i'm gonna kill topper. are you okay?” he said, his voice quieter now, almost thoughtful.

i swatted his hand away, but the touch had already sent a shiver down my spine. “i’m not fragile, rafe. i’m fine.”

he let out a low chuckle, stepping back just slightly, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “yeah? you have a hell of a way of showing it.”

i rolled my eyes. “and you have a hell of a way of just showing up wherever i go.”

“can't help it,” he shot back, the smirk returning.

“right,” i said sarcastically.

“you keep talking like that, grace, and people might think you don’t like me.”

“oh, i don’t,” i said, though my lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile.

“you sure about that?” his tone was teasing, but the way his gaze held mine made my stomach flip.

“positive.”

the words barely left my mouth before the ground seemed to tilt under me. i swayed slightly, and rafe’s hand was on my arm in an instant.

“you’re not fine,” he said firmly, his voice laced with something between frustration and concern.

“i’m just tired,” i muttered, trying to wave him off.

“grace,” he said, his tone softening. “you’ve been drinking, and you’ve definitely got a concussion. that’s not tired. that’s stupid.”

i opened my mouth to argue, but before i could get a word out, the dizziness overtook me completely. the last thing i saw was rafe’s face shifting from exasperation to alarm before everything went dark.

the first thing I felt was the rocking, the gentle sway of water under me. my head throbbed painfully, each pulse sending a sharp wave of dizziness through my skull. i groaned, trying to blink the fog away, but everything around me was unfamiliar.

where the hell was i?

i shot up in a panic, my heart hammering in my chest. the sudden movement made my head spin, and i clutched the side of the cushion i was on, trying to steady myself. i couldn’t remember how i’d gotten here.

"easy," he said, his voice low and steady. "you’re okay."

rafe was sitting a few feet away, looking like he’d been there for a while. he stood up and came over to me, sitting at the end of the blanket must have placed over me when i was out cold.

"where am I?", i froze for a second, still trying to piece together what was happening.

"on my boat," rafe replied, his tone calm. "you passed out right in front of me. your phone was dead, and i didn’t think you’d want me to call an ambulance. so, here we are."

i took a shaky breath, the tension in my chest slowly loosening. there was something oddly reassuring about the fact that he hadn’t just left me alone or handed me off to someone else. he’d stayed. i barely knew him, but for some reason, his presence here, near me, made me feel safe.

"how long… how long have i been out?"

"a few hours," he answered, his eyes shifting to the water outside the boat, then back to me. "it’s almost sunrise."

rafe shifted in his seat, glancing over at me. "you good?"

i nodded, "yeah. just-" i hesitated for a moment, then looked at him again. "thanks for not just leaving me."

rafe’s expression softened, his gaze steady. "i wasn’t about to leave you passed out on the beach, grace."

i wasn’t sure what to say. instead, i just nodded.

"so," he continued, after a beat, "i think it’s safe to say you need to take it easy for a bit. how’re you feeling?"

"better," i replied, rubbing my forehead gently. "still kind of dizzy, but not as bad."

"good," he said, giving me a small smile. "just rest for now. i have no where to be."

i met his gaze, a quiet appreciation settling in. "i owe you one, huh?"

rafe smiled. "yeah, but i’ll collect later."

this one is very long, but i wanted to make up for not posting for like a week :) ugh i love some flirty banter,, i hope you liked part three. stay tuned for part four soon <3

[wutheringvibe]

December 28 - I keep falling. Off rhythms, off rituals, off promises. promises whispered to myself under the soft glow of imagined tomorrows. Journaling every day felt like a promise too, but promises, like stitches, often snap when pulled too tight. But anyway here i am trying again. The sun is out today, shining bright, but the wind steals its warmth. It’s the kind of weather that feels like it’s trying to tell me something, sharp, brisk, and fleeting. i didn’t dress for it, as usual. my summer clothes cling to me in defiance, they are my second skin. winter weather, though, holds my heart, it feels like coming home. i sit with my pen, feeling its weight like it’s carrying more than ink. I love the way it feels in my hand on such days, the way it presses into paper, leaving lines so permanent, so unapologetically real, like truth written into existence, as if marking time itself. My palm skates across the page, a small rebellion against the cool surface of the paper. The pen becomes more than an object. It’s alive, an instrument, an extension of my thoughts. I think about the way my fingers cradle it, for a moment, it feels like holding power, creation, the world. Did God feel the same when he shaped things? Was it a pen he used, or a paintbrush, or maybe just his hands, raw and bare, palms pressed to nothing until it became something? I wonder if he felt the peace i feel when i hold my pen. There’s a vision I hold close, one I’ve carried since I was a child, a backyard bathed in sunlight, a gentle wind nudging the clothesline into song. The clothes sway, soft cotton ghosts dancing against the sky. It’s a quiet heaven, removed from the relentless noise of the world. The air sings a soft song, the sun casts its golden fingers over everything, and peace settles like dust on an undisturbed surface. This image keeps returning to me, unannounced, unbidden, grounding me when the world feels too sharp. It’s strange, how a fragment of a childhood dream can linger, outlasting years, outlasting doubts. My teacher had asked us where we’d like to live. That's when it first came to me. But I couldn't answer her. I didn't have the words to describe how the wind of that sunny afternoon felt in my imagination. And that feeling hasn’t ever left me. I am still trying to find my way to it. That backyard, that moment, that wind. that imagined peace. But peace, I’ve learned, is slippery. It dances just beyond reach, a game of hide and seek with no end. It’s there in glimpses, slipping through your fingers the moment you try to hold it. Outside, I hear new born pups crying. New lives, fragile and fleeting, fighting for survival. Most will not see spring. Their tiny tragedies pass unnoticed, unmourned, just like so much else that vanishes quietly from the world. Life goes on, with or without our permission. Sometimes I wish I could stop running with it. I wish the plants would claim me, take me into their fold. Their roots don’t wander, their leaves don’t ask questions. Rooted and swaying to rhythms far older than time, their harmony is enviable. They sway to the wind and bask in the sun’s embrace, content with simply being. I imagine myself as one of them, soft green and unburdened, listening to the quiet hum of the earth. I wish to shed this skin of noise and human yearning, to just dance in the cool breeze and breathe without want. There’s a strange comfort in the simplicity of things. There’s comfort in becoming part of something larger, something still. There's peace in these quiet moments, like clothes on a line, like the pen on paper. Like dreams of a far-off backyard, swaying, soaking in the sun. A peace which runs away from me again and again. I wish i could bottle it up

[fuck1ng-queen]

Strawberries and Memories

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 0,7k

Warnings: none, just some fluff for today (maybe a slight insinuation of sex, if you blink you miss)

Author comments: hello, my beautiful people! merry christmas for those who celebrate! i made a poll a few days ago asking about my next content being something fluffy or spicy and you answered fluffy, soooo, here we go <3 don't forget english is not my first language, so mistakes can happen. to join my taglist, please, let me know via ask. i hope you all like it!

Although you knew it was cold, you were naive to think that in the middle of December leaving home early wearing just a thin cold sweater to spend the whole day outside would warm you up enough. You body hurt, your fingers were stiff and your teeth chattered, and although you weren’t that bothered by the cold, it made you miss summer days, specially the last ones, where you and Noah had spent the most incredible afternoons ever under the sun and in the ocean water. You sighed as you remembered that even though you forgot using sunscreen on the last day at the beach, making you both back home burned and sensitive, those days were deliciously unforgettable.

You took your phone off your pocket and walking back to the office after lunch, you typed a few words to your man: 

“babe, I’m missing those days at the beach, remember? just haven’t decided what I miss more… if it’s the heat (i mean, seriously? what was i thinking when i left home today morning with no warm clothes?) or just cuddling up with you without worring about anything else in life.” 

And you couldn’t help smiling as you read the reply:

“Message from Nowah💕: be home asap to cuddle up a little, then i heat you up and we solve both of your problems.” 

(…)

The day had just fallen and you returned home on the subway while thinking about that week at the beach, and how you would give it all up for the heat of that day. Then you unlocked the phone screen and went straight to your photos, looking for a specific one: Noah with his lips in a straw drinking coconut water. That was one of the ones you liked the most, and not only of the trip, but of him himself. His gaze was calm and his face seemed rested as you haven't seen in weeks. You were a little surprised he didn’t answer your last messages. At that time of day he was always online, but you figured he might be busy with something else or still behind the wheel, late to get home. You didn’t mind so much. In fact you just wanted to get home soon, put on some proper clothes, and plant yourself in front of the fireplace until take roots.

Leaving the station, you faced the wet, freezing wind from the street and damn, you could have sworn you could remember times you cut yourself with a kitchen knife or fell off your bike and felt less pain than at that moment. As you walked down the two or three blocks from the station to your house you hummed something to distract yourself, making you think a little less about the shivering under the wrong clothe you had chosen to wear.

When you got home you saw that Noah’s car was at the garage, which was strange because he rarely failed to answer your messages when he was home. Anyway, you grabbed the keys from your pocket, and as you opened the door you felt a strong thermal shock, stronger than you imagined. You went inside, already feeling much better from the temperature, but… Why on earth would Noah leave the air turned on at such that high temperature?

“Baby? I’m home, you in?” you asked, curious to know what he might be up to.

“Yup, babe, kitchen.” You heard his voice answer.

Almost there, you saw him appear at the door, in shorts and barefoot, his hair messy, basically reproducing the picture you had seen earlier, which he knew you liked so much. He was holding a coconut in his hands, with a straw, and smiling, happy to see you. He came up to kiss you, and damn, you loved that feeling when you felt him smile during the kiss. Releasing his lips from yours he looked at you tenderly and pulled you by the hand into the kitchen so that you could see several fruits, all chopped up, just waiting for you. He took the bowl of fruit and said:

“Honey, I just didn’t have time to get the beach, okay? But the cuddling part…” he paused slightly, putting a strawberry in your mouth. “We can work that one out right now.”

Your eyes sparkled and you couldn’t help but giggle and kiss him as you realized what he had done, unable to believe how lucky you were to have Noah by your side, and happy to know that that weekend would probably be as precious in your memories as the last hot summer days.

.

.

masterlist | taglist: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[eruukat]

feeling many things rn. terrified abt a lot of life changes like switching majors and needing a new job and transportation changes and even stupid little stuff like fixing my hair or avoiding the roach thats hiding out under my bed. and then below all that is this simmering pot of butterflies about my partner. i knew our prev date was going to stir up a lot of feelings but im so. !!!!!!! idk if t4t love is just that insane and intense or if im just really really clicking with him but he might have the most beautiful smile ive ever seen. hes literally radiant and i think hes the first person to ever give me butterflies and after last date somethings *changed* and theyre like. still butterflies but different somehow. i dont know what im ready for but i think about him and his smile and i can imagine myself actually truly falling in love even though its just infatuation rn. but in the past imagining that felt more distant and i guess i didnt know what it would look like for me, but now i feel like i have an inkling or a possibility. i cant wait to see him again and hold him in my arms

[mochasucculent]

Kinda weird but this is still like one of my fave things I've ever drawn lol, it's just a background study from Shawn James' cover of Arkansas by Damien Jurado (there was a character here too once iykyk lol) but I was Going Through It at the time and painting this was soooo cathartic

[ratatatastic]

there is nothing more delightful than hearing forsy talk about fishing absolutely nothing more delightful than that so behold. forsy talking about fishing.

"More than just hockey, you're also a big fisherman. Why fishing?" "I don't know, it's something that I did growing up with my grandpa, my dad and my two brothers. It's a good way to relax and get your mind off hockey—Everything really in life. You're focusing on fishing and that's it." "So, when are you buying your boat here in South Florida?" "Well...we'll see. It's mostly a summer thing but I wouldn't mind a boat. I'm pretty simple like that! It's hockey, fishing and family-life. Yeah, that is pretty much it for me." "You're a simple man!" "Yep!" "It's good! It's probably why you're a good player 'cuz you got your focuses. You're locked in!" "Yeah, yeah."

WSFL Inside South Florida | 4.11.24 (x)

"When you disconnect—When you step away from the rink, what are some of the things you like to do over the course of the summer?" "I'm a big fishing guy, so that's pretty much all I do when I'm working out back home." "Where do you go to fish? Where are the big spots in Sweden?" "Can't tell you the best spots. Just around—We actually—Me and my fiancée just bought a house back home. We haven't seen it yet so it's gonna be fun to see the house by the lake...I'm gonna fish that way." "It is furnished? Or are you walking into an empty house?" "No, it's gonna be empty!" "Oh, that's a summer project!" "Yeah, so we got a lot of things to do." "What do you go for? What's the most exciting thing you've pulled in?" "I enjoy pike fishing. I love big pikes. That's probably my favourite." "Is that part of the off-season workout? I mean, the upperbody gets a good workout fishing." "Oh, yeah. I think it's a lot of mental, too! Like, a mental game. So, you know, you gotta stay patient. It's a lot of fun."

Territory Talk | 6.15.22 (x)

"First question, I gotta ask you. What's something recently—off the ice, outside of hockey—that's brought you joy?" "Ooh! When I'm home during summer usually I fish a lot. So, that's something I really enjoy. I've been doing a lot this summer...Yeah, fishing, I would say." "Fishing. That's something you do with friends, with family, by yourself?" "Yeah. Actually both. I fish with my brothers and my dad, and a lot of buddies." "That sounds great! That sounds like a nice way to unwind!" "It is!" "—And the total opposite sort-of mentality of hockey which is so 'go-go-go-go!' physical in-your-face." "Yeah, it's still very competitive. Fishing it's—but it's fun!" "When you're dealing with a professional athlete I can't imagine theres anything that's not at least a little competitive." "Exactly!"

Miami Mic'd Up | 10.12.23 (x)

"We're seeing you're a big outdoorsman... ya like fishing?" "Yeah. I love—I'm a big fisherman." "Yeah? Do you have any—Have you been on a big fishing trip? Or you've just been fishing in Sweden? Down there in Florida? Where you at and what do you like to fish?" "In Florida it's mostly deep sea fishing. I'm more a lake guy. I mean, I'm starting to get into it more here in Florida. Ekblad is fishing a lot, so, he took me out a couple times. It's pretty cool to get a big Tuna and stuff like that...but I'm more of a lake guy, I would say." "Does Ekky make you pull in the big fish? 'Cuz he already said how big and strong you are, 'throwing a 250'... He's like—he gives it over to you or what?" "Yeah, but he's got the whole electric stuff so he's—" "Oh, he's cheating! With the big rod riggers!" "Yeah! He rigs—" "He got into that a few years ago when I was down there with him. He's still into it, he's still on that deep sea stuff. I can never do it, it made me sick." "Yeah. Yeah, he is."

NHL Network | 3.14.24 (x)

man who absolutely wanted to be asked to reel in a big one by his partner but absolutely did not get the privilege because ekkys gone electric mourn for him hes want to be a big strongman and useful but now he cant because of technology.

but also the lakeguy vs seaguy fishing fued we got here is utterly delightful im not surprised if ekky took him out fishing just to try and convince him that its better can you imagine the amount of squabbles theyve got in over fishing. but also ekky took him out fishing. several times. like that happened. okay im gonna normal about that 👍

also not them damsel in distressing ekky like ohhhhh does he make you do the heavy stuff he talks soooooo much about how big and strong you are does he put you to work *bats eyelashes*

forsy, who really desperately wants to be put to work: no no he doesnt 😔😔

and here are just the multitude of photos of forsy fishing (redfin perches and northern pikes) over the years and posting it to ig and the captions are all filled with the weight and length of the fish like oh hes a real fishin boi give me those numbers (x)(x)(x)(x)(x)(x)

[savage-rhi]

MAGENTA.

[charmcoindied]

honestly though that was probably the most pleasant flight i've ever taken. the plane was very empty so they had to move my seat for weight distribution reasons which meant i got bumped up to main cabin extra and had so much leg room. i took a nap and watched a movie and it was a very smooth ride. ordinarily i don't enjoy flying on smaller jets like E175s but they're much more tolerable when they're not packed to the gills

[icannotgetoverbirds]

Listen. I am too disabled to work most jobs... in the United States.

Move me to Ireland or the UK, however, and suddenly the job market opens up much more for me. I don't suddenly become any less disabled - but labor laws in other countries, afaik, are so much better that my disabilities don't hold me back nearly as much anymore.

Back when I *was* working, i could barely handle my job as a host. i begged to be put on as a dishwasher, and my manager refused, despite the position having an incredibly high turnover rate. Because it was tiring and unrewarding and monotonous work.

She refused to believe that anyone could enjoy said work. I think she assumed that the only reason I wanted to be a dishwasher was for the higher pay. According to her, I was doing an excellent job as a host, despite the fact that it took everything in me to not go into a total shutdown halfway through my shifts 90% of the time.

Let me wash the damn dishes. Give me ONE fucking job and I will blow your fucking socks off.

But instead people are expected to do the work of two or more employees for the pay of one, so us bitches with switching-tasks-is-hell-disorder either have to suffer or find another solution/job.

Sigh.

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[lostfracturess]

beneath the mistletoe — satoru gojo

having a crush on your brother's best friend is bad enough. having that best friend look better at every family dinner is just cruel. but worst of all? he's noticed your not-so-subtle staring.

It should be illegal how Satoru Gojo manages to look better every goddamn single Christmas dinner.

You watch him over the rim of your glass as he throws his head back laughing at something your aunt just said, the sound rich and warm like honey. And it doesn't help that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, giving you a perfect view of his unfairly handsome forearms.

Your grip tightens on your glass as he runs a hand through those perfect white strands of his, and you catch yourself wondering, not for the first time, if they're as soft as they look.

It's been like this for years now — ever since your brother Suguru first brought his college roommate home for the holidays, Satoru's own family being overseas.

Now he's practically part of the family, showing up to every gathering with that infuriating smile and those stupidly blue eyes that seem to find you no matter where you are in the room.

You deliberately focus on your plate, stabbing a potato with perhaps more force than necessary. But your eyes, the traitors, keep drifting back to him of their own accord. It's frustrating, really.

Almost impossible not to notice the way his white hair falls just so over his forehead, or how his jaw flexes when he's deep in thought, or the way his throat moves when he takes a sip of wine.

Not that you're looking at his throat.

You're not.

(You totally are.)

And then, because the universe hates you, he catches you staring.

Those blue eyes lock with yours across the table, and his lips curl into a faint smile that makes your stomach flip. You nearly choke on your wine, quickly averting your gaze to study the tablecloth like it's the most fascinating thing you've ever seen.

"Stop staring at my best friend," Suguru whispers as he passes behind your chair.

Shit. Was it that obvious?

After dinner, you escape to the back porch, needing some air that isn't thick with the scent of cinnamon and Satoru's cologne. The winter night is crisp and clear, your breath forming little clouds in the darkness.

You're not surprised when you hear the door open behind you, or when the familiar scent of cigarette smoke wafts your way.

"Those things will kill you, Suguru," you say without turning around.

"That's what I keep telling him," Satoru's voice chimes in, and you turn to find them both strolling onto the porch, your stomach dropping. Suguru takes another deliberate drag of his cigarette, maybe just to spite you both, while Satoru wrinkles his nose.

"Speaking of things that might kill you," Satoru says, "how's that final year of college treating you?"

You try to focus on the question, but it's difficult when the porch light is hitting his eyes just right, making them look impossibly bluer and you have to resist the urge to melt under his gaze.

"It's fine," you manage, aiming for nonchalant. "Just trying to survive my thesis."

"Ah, your thesis." His lips quirk up in that stupidly attractive way of his. "What was your topic again? Something about modern interpretations of folklore?"

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. You mentioned it exactly once, months ago, during summer break. You hadn't expected him to remember.

"Japanese urban legends and their evolution through social media," you correct him, trying not to read too much into the fact that he remembered at all. "Though at this point, it's more like about my own evolution into madness."

Suguru snorts, flicking ash off his cigarette. "Please, you're the only person I know who actually enjoys research. I've seen your color-coded spreadsheets."

"Some of us like being organized," you shoot back.

As if on cue, your aunt's voice carries from inside. "Suguru! Can you come help your father with something?"

Suguru sighs, crushing his cigarette under his heel before heading inside, leaving you alone with Satoru. And suddenly the porch feels much smaller than it did a moment ago.

Great.

"So," Satoru says, shifting closer until his arm brushes yours. "Going to tell me why you've been watching me all night?"

Heat floods your cheeks. "I haven't—"

"You're not as subtle as you think," he interrupts. "I can feel you glaring holes into the back of my head whenever I'm around."

"I don't glare," you protest weakly.

"No?" His voice drops lower as he steps closer, backing you against the porch railing. "Then what would you call it?"

You swallow hard, trying to ignore how good he smells up close. "Curious observation?"

He laughs, the sound sending warmth spreading through your chest despite the cold. "Is that what we're calling it now?" Then his eyes flick up. "Would you look at that?"

You follow his gaze to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the porch ceiling, definitely not there earlier today. You're going to kill your mother. Or your aunt. Or your cousin.

Maybe all of them.

"We don't have to—" you start to say, but Satoru's already leaning in, moving into your space with that casualness he's always had, like being this close to you is the most natural thing in the world.

"I've been waiting for an excuse to kiss you since sophomore year," he murmurs. "Please don't ruin this for me."

Oh.

Oh.

His lips meet yours before you can process that confession, soft and warm and tasting faintly of the mulled wine from dinner. Your hands find their way to his chest as he cups your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as he kisses you like he's been thinking about it for years.

And the truth is, he has.

When you finally break apart, his forehead resting against yours, you say, "Suguru's never going to let us live this down."

"Worth it." Satoru smiles, stealing another quick kiss. "Though I should probably thank him for the mistletoe."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew. Who do you think helped him put it up?"

You smack his chest, but he just catches your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Merry Christmas to me," he says with a wink.

And despite yourself, you can't help but smile back. "Merry Christmas, you idiot."

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[fallingforyouforeverr]

𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

summary: lando begins to panic when you don't want to cuddle with him

author's note: it's really hot rn where I live so i just wanted to write a cute little blurb inspired by my own suffering. vote here for who i write my next fic about!

• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •

Lando was confused. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, and you didn't seem to be upset with him until now, so he couldn't possibly understand why you were refusing to cuddle with him.

It started off as most of your evenings did. After dinner, he washed the dishes while you dried and put them away, then you both moved into the living room to watch some tv before bed. Only, when Lando tried to pull you closer, you pushed his arm off you, moving away and leaving your boyfriend staring at you like a kicked puppy.

You didn't seem to think anything of it, settling back down on the other side of the sofa and pressing play on your favourite show. However, Lando was still frozen, mind reeling from your rejection. He wondered if you were ignoring him because you were mad or if it was just a mistake and you genuinely couldn't feel his eyes on you.

At last, the uncertainty became to much to bear and he decided to speak up. "Um...baby?" He asked tentatively, watching your face closely to see your reaction.

"Yeah?" You answered, glancing away from the screen.

Huh. That's weird. You didn't seem mad at all, and you obviously weren't ignoring him, so what was this about? Maybe you weren't feeling well suddenly?

"You feeling okay, sweetheart?"

Turning your body to face him, your equally as confused expression only eased his worries slightly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Why?"

Deciding it was probably best to be direct, Lando spoke again. "You pushed me away!"

You couldn't help but giggle at the adorable pout on his face, suddenly feeling bad for not explaining your behaviour earlier. "Lan, my love, I'm so sorry! I promise I'm not mad at you or anything, it's just because of the weather."

"The weather?" His expression changed, a slight frown settling into his brow as he waited for you to continue speaking.

"It's too hot," you explained. "It's my first summer in Monaco, I wasn't expecting it to be this warm. I didn't want to cuddle because I knew I would overheat."

Lando mentally slapped himself for not thinking of that as a possibility. He had lived here for a few years so he was used to the unrelenting sunshine by now, but you had only moved in with him recently so of course you weren't. He couldn't help but laugh at how much he was stressing over something so small.

"You idiot, making me panic like that!" The brunette scolded you playfully. You stared up at him innocently, batting your eyelashes with a smile.

Lando suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, and you shrieked loudly. You wriggled helplessly in his grasp, as he tickled you sides, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"I'll stop if you say sorry."

"Never," you gasped, swatting at his hands. He merely shrugged, tickling you harder.

"You sure?"

"Okay, okay, I-I'm sorry!" You managed between breathless pants.

Lando grinned cheekily at you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath before he leaned in to kiss you softly. You threw your arms around his neck tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. When you finally had to pull away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.

"I thought you were too hot," he teased, causing you to groan again and smack his shoulder. Lando pressed another quick kiss to your lips before continuing, "and for the record, I am definitely buying you like 20 fans tomorrow."