#only you would put this typa shit on my dash
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tacticalhimbo · 1 month ago
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— ... BILL CLINTON SWAG.
tagged by @jamessunderlandgf to uhm. well. use this link to generate a pic of bill clinton holding my fave albums/my comfort albums. i guess. JFALJFALSFJSDLJF
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ALBUMS:
The Wall - Pink Floyd
Rammstein - Rammstein
До Свидания (Goodbye) - IC3PEAK
INVISIBLE (EP) - Duran Duran
After Hours - The Weeknd
BOA - Megan Thee Stallion
Unheard (EP) - Hozier
Born This Way (Deluxe Edition) - Lady Gaga
TAGGING. @ollierachnid , @venesicity , @vendettavalor / @vendettapandav (whichever blog you choose to curse with this) , and YOU. person reading this. if you wanna do something cursed then go for it
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bbokkie · 2 years ago
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Receiving Love Letters From Highschool! Valorant Boys!!
Scenario: Receiving love letters from highschool! Valorant boys for Valentine’s day!!
(I’m starting to like doing this typa content. Anyways, I know Valentine’s was MONTHS ago but y’know I’m just a tad bit late 😖🥺)
Characters included: Chamber, Yoru, Pheonix, Sova
Chamber - Vincent Fabron
- Vincent thought long and hard for what he could get you for Valentine’s day, he was more of thinking of what object he could get you if I’m being honest. “An expensive purse?” He thought to himself. What could he possibly buy you that he didn’t already buy for you. He was in a bit of a scuffle. At one point he wanted to buy you a car but you he then realized neither of you had a driving license.
- And so, for around 30 minutes he thought of what to buy you. But he then remembered the countless times you told him that his expensive gifts (although very much appreciated by you) didn’t really matter to you, as long as he thought that you would love it and as long as all he thought about that gift was you and only you. To summarize it: it was the thought that counted the most.
- He took out a piece of paper and started jolting down words, was he writing what he was gonna buy you now? Nope!! He was writing you a love letter. He came to the realization that no expensive gifts could show his love, so why not write his undying love for you? 
- He began pouring his feelings into that piece of paper, how you made him feel, how he wanted to make you feel- everything, but most importantly, he wanted to know how much he loved you and how much he cared for you.
- The day of valentine’s day. You knew that your daring boyfriend would gift you with something expensive again, don’t get me wrong, diamond and riches are a girl’s best friend! But something in you just wanted him to give you something that he worked on, something that he didn’t waste his money on, but something he made for you and you only.
- The male came up to you after class, giving you a small bag. “My gift to you.” he smiled, your classmates then looked to both of you, intrigued of what the rich Frenchman had gifted you this time. 
- “Thank you, Vincent.” you smiled, taking the bag. You looked inside where a small fuzzy black box was located and accompanied by a folded piece of paper. You looked at your classmates whom were long gone. (Chamber scared them away, by the way.) 
- You giggled before pulling out the box and slowly opening it, a ring sat on top with your birth stone engraved in it, you gasped. Looking at him with shining eyes. He pulled out his hand that was hidden from him back, the same ring but his birthstone engraved in his ring. You squealed. “You look even more dashing with that ring, Vincent!” you said, quickly putting your own ring. 
- Before getting distracted by the ring, you pulled out the letter from the box which you almost forgot about. “Mmm, what’s this?” you teasingly asked as the male just chuckled. You unfolded the piece of paper before reading it.
- My dearest Y/n, 
 I know you don’t like expensive gifts so I decided to give you this. I love you, my dear. Words cannot simply express what fire you burn within me. It’s a raging flame that simply cannot be put out. 
Stay with me forever, with you I just know forever will be something to remember.
Yours truly, Vincent Fabron.
Yoru - Ryo Kiritani
- Like Chamber, he was also thinking far and wide of what to give you for Valentine’s day, he was originally not going to give you anything. Maybe just a kiss in the lips and that would be it. But that decision quickly changed with Phoenix and Jett popped along.
- “Soo, Ryo. What’re you gonna give Y/n!?” Jett asked loudly, slamming her hands on the table, catching Yoru off guard, flinching harshly. “Yeah! What’re you gonna get her!?” Phoenix followed, slamming his own hands on the desk. “Where the fuck did you come from!?” he shouted. “You should give her a purse!” Phoenix recommended. “Like he has any money for that shit.” Jett scoffed. “HUH!?” Yoru shouted. “Oh, yeah.. well- how about a love letter?” Phoenix recommended once more. “Stop trying to decide what I’ll give to my girlfriend!” Yoru said, but his voice was not heard by the two. “A love letter..” Jett mumbled. “That’s perfect!” Jett smiled at Phoenix. “WHAT- no! Stop that shit! I’ll give what I want to give to her!” Yoru retorted, seemingly unheard by them.
- “You’ll give her a love letter!” Jett looked at Yoru. “No. I said stop, I’ll give what I wanna give to her.” he sighed. “Man, you’re a shitty boyfriend.” Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Fine! I’ll give her a love letter if you leave me alone!” Yoru said with a long sigh. “Do you want me to help?” Jett said. “No! She’s my girlfriend, not yours.”
- Yoru went home that day, when he thought about it even more, maybe a love letter would do the trick for him. On the walk home back to his house, he thought of what he was going to put in his letter. He wanted it to be straight to the point, he didn’t want to dwell behind the bush.
- The more he thought about it, the more his heart started beating faster. At this point, he wasn’t even thinking of the contents of the letter he’ll give you, but you in general.
- He sat in his desk, a paper right in front of him. His mind was blank, he didn’t really know what to put. But he wrote anything and everything he thought about you and his feelings for you down on that piece of paper.
- On the day of Valentine’s, you were opening your locker, not expecting much from your boyfriend, and then a letter sat on top of your books. You got excited, what could this be this time? A detention notice letter? A confession letter? Every possibility came to mind except the possibility of the letter coming from your boyfriend.
- You excitedly unfolded the piece of paper, reading the first few words instantly.
- I don’t know how to say this any cringier but, I love you. And that’s all you need to know.
Ryo Kiritani
- At the bottom of the paper, a small heart was scribbled down. Your cheeks heated of flaming red as you tried to hold down the squeal building up your throat. You jumped up and down softly, a muffled “eee!!” sound coming out of your mouth.
- After classes, you went to his chair, a huge smile in your face. The male looked up at you, a confused look on his face. “What’re you looking at?” he squinted his eyes at you. Without much thought you pressed your lips onto his. After a second or so, you pulled back, an even bigger grin on your face. You watched as his ears slowly fumed of a deep red. “A thank you for your lovely letter, and my gift to you.” you giggled.
Phoenix - Jamie Adayemi
- Jamie was originally going to buy you something, but he decided to give you something that was more- him, and more romantic! And what was more romantic other than a handwritten letter poured with words and feelings?
- He only thought of the idea the day of Valentine’s day, so it was kind of rushed- it totally wasn’t because he forgot what month it was or anything, totallyy..
- So, he took a piece of paper from his bag and started scribbling words onto it in the middle of class. It wasn’t like he wanted to pay attention to class anyway.
- By the end of the class, he had his Valentine’s gift prepared and ready!
- During lunch, he went to your classroom where you usually had your lunch with him, he quickly ran to your desk before placing the letter on your desk.
- “Oh, hi Jamie.” you smiled. “Hi, babe!” he grinned. “What’s this?” you asked him. “My gift for Valentine’s day.” he took a chair from the desk in front of you and sat. “Is this your test or something?” you joked, opening the paper. “Whatt! I always ace my test, babe! What are you on abouttt?” he rolled his eyes.
- To my beautiful Y/n,
I love you so much. I can’t really express it so- ILOVEYOUILOVEYOUILOVEYOUILOVEYOUILOVEYOUILOVEYOU!! Did I mention that I love you? Hmm, I don’t think so. I love you, by the way.
I love you forevermore, my heart will beat for you until it stops.
<3
- You giggled, a small blush appearing your face. “Did the letter mention that I loved you?” he smiled. “Mm, no..” you shook your head, giggling. 
- He plants a kiss on your cheek, leaving you off-guard and all flustered. “I love you.” he chuckled.
Sova - Sasha Novikov
- He wrote you a letter that was specifically for Valentine’s day like 2 weeks before Valentine’s day. He was prepared for this shit, bro.
- He even decorated the letter and everything, he made sure to take his time to write every word, he wanted it to be clear, elegant and everything in between.
- He gave you the letter during lunch time with food that was prepared for you to eat.
- He went into your classroom, excited.
- “Hi, Sasha!” you waved to him as he smiled softly.
- “Happy Valentine’s day, my dear.” he grinned, giving you the box of food and a letter on top. “Huh? You didn’t have to..” you blushed, taking the box from his hands. He only giggled. “The best for you.” he said. 
- To my lovely Y/n,
I wish to be with you for eternity, even if eternity is impossible, I want to make it possible for you. I love you with all my heart, my body, and my soul. 
Please be with me until we both take our last breaths.
Sincerely and dearly,
Sasha Novikov.
(UHGUGHUGH!! Sorry if you saw the decline of words, it just became shorter and shorter by every person. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, and tell me if you want more shit like this!! ;0)
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imaginesbymk · 4 years ago
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“Something’s Wrong with Mr. Pink.”
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Reservoir Dogs One Shot
Summary: There’s been spark between you and Mr. Pink, but he’s one to shield his emotions. He realizes he’s starting to lose you, but he’s out of ways to win your heart. Desperate, he approaches Mr. White for help.
Pairing: Mr. Pink x Fem!Reader
Tags: swearing, sexist remarks, smoking + mentions of drug use (marijuana)
Non Requested
Word Count: 2,054
Author’s Note: as you can tell, quentin tarantino movies have been on my list!!! the reader is codenamed Miss Beige!! i never thought i’d have this much appreciation for steve buscemi until now, he’s such a cool guy :(((  also thank you @myriadimagines​ for checking my title capitalization aksnskdns - leave a like/reblog + feedback!!! <333
MR. BROWN gave Mr. Pink a ride to the next meeting, and the whole trip there, Brown rambled on and on about God knows what. It came through one ear and out the other for Pink. Brown didn’t seem to notice because of his investment of his proven theory of a movie he had seen and wanted to share it with someone. 
If he wasn’t listening in silence, Pink would always have something to say. It would usually be a comment, an opinion on something about social life. This one afternoon, he bit his tongue, despite the guys knowing his mind was occupied, even Nice Guy Eddie raised a brow. It didn’t start the day they were all given your colour coded names. It didn’t start the day they reviewed the plan of the heist with each other. It all started when you two were unintentionally left alone at the large dining table, moments after the guys had walked out the restaurant for something.
“Pink’s a pretty colour.” You gave him a reassuring smile, stirring your straw in your milkshake.
“To you.” 
“And to anyone else who would want to be codenamed Pink!” you scoff. “Sexist.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re Miss Beige,” he says, his mouth full of his toast. 
“And I happen to like my name. It’s a pretty colour,” you paused. “Just like pink.”
Pink huffs, swirling his coffee mug. “I can’t wait to smoke.”
“Lucky.”
“My buddy sets up Thai sticks like it’s one of those model boats in a bottle. It’s so fragile to him, and he saved one for me. Something tells me I owe him a shit ton.”
“You smoke Thai sticks?” you ask. “Your poor lungs.”
“Nah, I gotta smoke outta one anytime after coffee just for me to either black out or jump off the Empire State building by the time we hit Easter.”
You chuckled.
From the windows of the restaurant, you could see the guys standing outside their parked cars including Nice Guy Eddie and Joe, talking to each other about whatever. You could see their mouths moving, Nice Guy Eddie using a lot of hand motions at Mr. White, and Joe calling someone on the phone.
This wasn’t the first time you spent a limited amount of minutes alone with Mr. Pink. At Uncle Bob’s Pancake House, you two did sit close to each other, except Mr. Blue sat in between the both of you, and you had to lean forward to see Mr. Pink if he was speaking or if you two were giving each other looks if someone said something stupid.
If you were that childish, you would've considered the five minutes of alone time with Mr. Pink a first date - without the formal introduction. You two didn’t give each other your names because of Joe, but you wouldn’t mind slipping it out.
Silence, and then-
“I know this really cool café near my apartment. We should check it out sometime,” you blurted out.
Pink was in the midst of swallowing his food. He chokes on his ketchup dipped toast, taking his coffee mug to chase the contents down his throat.
“Wait a minute-” Pink cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “Are you-” he cleared his throat for the final time. “Are you asking me out?”
“Y-yeah,” you sheepishly smile, holding in your breath. “I mean, we can go get coffee, hang out at my place afterwards - it’s just a five minute walk - and sit on my couch, listen to K-Billy’s Super Sounds of the ‘70s, you can smoke your Thai stick, I wouldn’t mind...” By looking at Pink’s face made you trail off your words. You knew where this was going. 
“You couldn’t ask Brown or Orange?”
“No, I wanted to ask you. We’ve been talking lately, we seem to get along, thank God, and you’re really cool. Even when you can be an absolute dick almost all the time, you haven’t scared me off. Just one date, it won’t kill us.”
“A date...” he frowns a bit. “With you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” your heart sank.
“Nothing’s wrong with you, Miss Beige. Ya just got the wrong idea. We’re here for a job, not to hook up. If you want to suck someone off, try your luck with Mr. Blonde. Besides, I go for chicks at a bar. I know from experience, they’re always coming in hot - first come, first serve typa’ shit.”
“Right. My bad.” You felt yourself shrinking now, fighting the urge to get up and make a dash outta there, somewhere to scream in embarrassment, whatever emotion it was. 
“Excuse me.” Mr. Pink gets up and walks away, just as the rest of the guys start making their return to the large table.
“Where did Mr. Pink go?” Mr. Orange asked.
“Little men’s room, I’m guessing.” You sighed, sliding the milkshake away from you. “I’m full.”
“Something’s wrong with Mr. Pink. Did you guys get in a fight? We were only gone for five minutes,” Mr. Brown laughs.
You sat in silence, staring down.
“Nah, I bet she finally put him in his place and he’s crying like a baby in there,” Mr. Blue said, lighting the cigar in his mouth with a match.
“Most definitely not.” Mr. White shook his head, patting his pockets in search of his lighter. “That man’s a smartass, and smartasses like him know how to shield themselves. He’s fine. If anything, he can walk his ass home.”
Meanwhile, Mr. Pink calmly entered the restroom, placed both hands on each side of the tiny sink, stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror, and screamed in anger. 
He jumps when he notices a man had appeared from one of the stalls just a moment ago, staring at him worriedly.
“WHAT?!” Mr. Pink snaps.
If someone treated him like a friend, he goes along with it if they weren’t weird or creepy. If someone told a joke, he’ll laugh if it isn’t corny or cringeworthy. But if someone admitted their feelings to him? Let alone ask him out?
That was the thing: Mr. Pink doesn’t like the idea of vulnerability. He’s aware that it’s unavoidable, it’s human nature - he just chooses not to give into it. Mr. Pink won’t waste a breath giving anyone the impression that he’s easy to get along with and that he’s a kind of guy to not act like a complete jerk half the time, because that’s not true. Not on his behalf, at least. 
“Mr. White,” Mr. Pink approaches him in the vacant room at the hideout one day.
He knows people can judge. So he naturally survives on witty remarks, being a sarcastic ass most of the time, and coffee, coffee, and more coffee. Coffee times six. 
Mr. White finishes combing his hair in the small mirror, nodding at him as a response. “You all right, son?”
But at the same time, his heart was telling him he wants you all to himself.  “I got a problem...”
"SO you want my help?” Mr. White said, a few moments after Mr. Pink had explained the situation he was stuck in. “You’re completely hopeless right now? Gosh, is it my birthday already?”
“You’re full of shit,” Pink mumbled.
“Thought you’re s’posed to be a fuckin’ professional, like you said?” Mr. White chuckled. “I would have thought you would know what to do by now.”
“What am I, the Dalai Lama? I don’t know the answer to everything.”
“I mean... I kinda figured something was goin’ on between you two, I tried to warn her,” White shoots him a blank stare.
“Warn her?” Mr. Pink scowls. “Like I’m some fuckin’ tiger on the loose?”
“I did tell her: Listen, honey,” Mr. White grimaced, as he saw you like a sixteen-year-old teenager not knowing better than to get her heart broken. “Are you one hundred percent sure you like Mr. Pink? He’s a pretty cynical guy. You know he doesn’t tip waitresses?”
You shrug.
“Look, I know I can be very close to myself while very outspoken but,” Mr. Pink sighs. “I mean, c’mon, you’ve seen Miss Beige. Who wouldn’t want her? One time, she called in sick for a job she worked at just to play Super Mario World.”
“You could go there and apologize to her.”
“It’s not that easy, White.”
“How so? Just tell her you freaked out but you had a change of heart.”
“No, man. I could have accepted it right there and then, I could be taking her out somewhere, a place she likes, or that café she was talking about. But no, I turn into the cold piece of shit I always am ‘cause I’m a fucking-” Mr. Pink kicks the rusty chair in anger. “-idiot!” He kicks it again, hurting his foot in the process. He cries out in pain and hops away to the table for balance.
“Mr. Pink, it’s not too late to win her heart. If you really like her, and I can tell you’d take a bullet for her, then brush the professionalism aside for one second and make your move.”
“How?” he chuckles, taking a seat in the chair he had just kicked.
“Well, you can start by introducing yourself.”
“Already done.”
“No I mean, your name.”
“Whoa, whoa whoa. What we’re not gonna do is that.” Mr. Pink ran his fingers through his hair, turning his back to White to therapeutically stare at the light pink tiles on the walls. 
“Why not?” White shrugs. “I told her mine. And it’s-”
Mr. Pink turned around. “What?”
Mr. White furrowed his brows. “Huh?”
“You told her your name?” he said. In his mind he prayed Mr. White gave her a fake name on the spot.
“I mean, not just her. Mr. Orange, too. My first name and where I was from, it was a normal conversation.”
“...WHY?!” Pink’s voice echoed in the warehouse.
“Orange asked.”
“You know what Joe said, we’re not supposed to reveal any personal info about ourselves!”
“Joe said this, Joe said that- fucking teacher’s pet,” Mr. White mocks.
“What the hell were you thinking, White?” he shouts.
“How else can you and Miss Beige take a step further if you can’t even tell each other your fuckin’ names? Just introduce yourself, Pink. That’s one way to start,” Mr. White says.
“And what if she doesn’t like my name?” He could only come up with such a question like that.
“What is your name?” 
“Fuck you, man.” Mr. Pink stood up from the chair, earning a chuckle from his colleague.
“All right, if you won’t tell me your name, then tell y/n. Y/n should be the only one who can know.”
Mr. Pink turned back to him again. “Y/N?” he says. “That’s her name?”
Mr. White nods. As heated as Mr. Pink was, he knew one day your name would have to fall out of his lips and not a colour, and he wouldn’t mind that. Y/N...
Mr. Pink wouldn’t mind that one bit.
FROM now on, the café near your apartment complex would be your go-to. It was a café not too small but not too big, and no one would bat an eye if you showed up in your pajamas. The following Saturday you went there alone, sipping your coffee and turning to the second page of the morning paper. 
What sucked was the fact that after you were turned down, you came to think that Mr. Pink wouldn’t be able to see how cool the interior was. He sure was missing out. Sure his Thai stick won’t be stinking up your living room while throwback songs from the ‘70s play on the radio, but indeed, sucks for him.
“Shit, you were right, y/n. This place is pretty neat.”
The newspaper crinkled when you lowered it down. Standing at the foot of your booth was Mr. Pink. This time he didn’t have on his silly Hawaiian shirt like last time, and no, he didn’t ironically wear pink as a kind gesture. He did look good in a white tee, though. 
You had to smile. He knew your name. And you wondered how...
“Oh, Mr. Pink. Morning,” you nodded.
He takes a seat in front of you. “C’mon, we’re not at work. Just call me—”
THE END
TAGLIST: @locke-writes
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pinkchanelbag-moved · 5 years ago
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i just found your blog but i actually love it sm can you write a lil sum sum w nick based off sunflower bc i will never get tired of that song
thank you babyyy this is stupid long im sorry it got really messy and i ended up hating it but its too long not to post so im sorry that this is trash lol 
---
sunflower - n.m.
you’d be left in the dust
unless i stuck by ya
you’re the sunflower
i think your love would be too much
“dog, you’re not really making any sense,” edwin sighed to his distressed friend. “slow down.”
nick sniffled and rubbed his forehead, scared of the deep feeling of resolution sinking into his stomach. the realization that this could be the end of his relationship. 
“i told her i would pull up to her place after the movie, but after i just picked up z and we drove around and i kept my phone on silent ‘cause i knew she was gonna call.” 
“you were avoiding her?” edwin asked, making a perplexed hand gesture. “why?”
“i don’t know!” nick exclaimed. “she’s flying home for her midterms tonight, and today was her last recording session so she’s gonna be studying all day and i just didn’t wanna be around her during all that brainy shit, it just gets on my nerves.” 
edwin frowned in confusion at his friend, but held his silence.
“anyway, she called brandon to ask about the movie, and then you guys obviously, and when she got around to zion, that’s when i decided to go see her.”
brandon re-entered the living room with a bottle of water that he handed to his friend. he sat down on the floor across from nick’s seat on the couch and beside edwin’s on the loveseat. edwin rested his elbows on his knees, leaning in to listen, while brandon settled his back on the side of coffee table with upset eyes. 
“she…she wouldn’t let me in.” nick paused to take a gulp of his water. the water squeezed past the lump on his throat. “she said she hadn’t studied at all ‘cause she was worried about me. she said she was done, and that she was tired of our relationship being her trying to get me to be nice to her and trying to trust me when she never knows shit about…about…i dunno, something like that, i don’t remember.” with his eyes glued to the ground in a deadpan stare, he said, “she said she didn’t wanna be with me. and then she closed the door, and i left.” 
brandon and edwin shared a look before trying to detangle the situation that had just unfolded before them. 
“so…ummm…” brandon rubbed his mouth. “have you guys been having problems like this? ‘cause i don’t think she woulda done this unprovoked.” 
nick sighed, clenching his jaw in an attempt to hold back tears. 
“i guess…i don’t know, bro…she’s just always busy. i mean, not busy, but always moving. she’s always doing the most, whether it’s recording or going to meetings or working on her clothing line or tryna stay caught up at college or…i don’t know, flying to the fuckin’ moon. and i’m just tryna be with her, not with, like…her grind. does that make sense?” 
“kind of…” brandon answered. 
“but nick, she literally invited you over on her only free night to study before going home for midterms. she’s trying.” 
“yeah, i know, but it’s like…when i’m with her, it’s like i know that she could be doing some more important shit, and that she probably wants to, but she gotta slow down and make time for me. like, ‘don’t have dinner with me, you should be running for president or some shit.’ that typa shit. and i’m proud of her, for real. i really got the baddest out there, but i wake up and shower and maybe work out and then go see her, and by that same time she’s cleared half her schedule of the crazy amount of shit she has to do. when i’m with her, i feel like i’m wasting her time.” 
“yo…” edwin said after several seconds.
“you’re a fuckin idiot,” brandon finished for him.
“yeah, thanks, fuck you,” nick said throwing his body back to the cushion. 
“no, for real. you’re mad at her and treating her like shit because you feel small next to all her success? that is the worst thing a guy can do to a girl, nick. get over yourself, bro. you’re crazy about her and you’re avoiding her because she loves you and you’re—what, insecure?”
“yeah,” edwin gestured to brandon in agreement. “and she loves you too. obviously, or she wouldn’t have put up with your shit for so long. you got so lucky. a strong ass girl with her future and her life straight. if you feel like you’re not good enough, you should be doing the exact opposite of whatever the fuck you were doing before. you should treat her like the world. and why she loves you, that’s none of your business, man. that’s ‘cause of god.” he gestures to the air above him. “she’s winning in every part of her life except with you, because of you.”
nick’s eyes alternated between his two friends for some time, comprehending their advice. he dug his palms into his eyes and groaned.
“why the fuck didn’t y’all tell me that before she broke up with me!? she’s boutta leave the fuckin state!” 
“when’s her flight?” edwin asked.
nick checked his watch and took a deep breath. 
“two hours.” 
“get the fuck outta here, then!” edwin yelled, getting up from his seat. 
“i’ll call maggie and see if she’s already on her way to the airport,” brandon told nick, who was already jumping off the couch in search of his car keys. within minutes, he was on the road, flying through the night traffic one hand on the wheel and the other placing calls to your phone that went unanswered every time. after a few minutes, brandon’s text was a beacon of hope.
maggie says she just left ina taxi
nick swerved to make an exit that would take him to the airport, throwing his phone on the dash. 
he drove for some time, heart thudding in his chest like a drum, looking through the window of any taxi he could see. finally, about ten minutes out from the airport, he spotted a taxi. as he neared it, he saw a familiar head of hair atop a lowered head, the curve of a nose. just briefly, he saw you sitting in the backseat.
he quickly found his place behind the taxi, never faltering. he texted your phone—stop the taxi get outta the taxi ill drive you there—and watched as you lifted your head and looked at the cars around you to find him. you looked over your shoulder and made distant eye contact with him. it was difficult to see in the darkness of the night, but he knew it was you, and you knew it was him. even from here, he could see how drained you were.
you left his texts unanswered still, but now nick knew where you were. he followed the taxi the rest of the way to the airport. nick watched the driver park and swivelled into place beside him. he jumped out of the car, and the first word out of his mouth was your name. he ran around his car to the side in which you were sitting. you hadn’t gotten out yet, but rather stared at the seat in front of you.
“y/n, can you hear me out?” nick asked. he moved to the passenger window in front of your seat and knocked on it, signalling to the driver. “i’ll pay the fare. i’ll pay the fare, i’ll pay it, i was supposed to drive her,” he says. the driver nods hesitantly before deciding to go on his phone.
“y/n,” nick said, back to your window. “please. okay, you don’t needa talk, but just listen, okay?” he swallowed, preparing to speak, but found that he had no words. he had been so worried about getting to you in time that he didn’t think of what to say to get you back. panicking, he tried to recall the things his friends told him. 
“i’m…i—i’ve been treating you like shit. like, you’re right, what you said about how i’m not even nice to you sometimes. and it’s not…not cause i have any kinda bad feelings toward you. i love you. i love you, it’s like…i love you so much and you’re just so—“ he stopped his to take a breath, and the tears now caught up with him. “you’re so strong and intelligent and beautiful. you’re fucking radiant and you’re perfect, and you treat me so good that i feel like compared to how great you are, i’m just not all that. and you’re doing so much shit with your life. i feel like i’m in your way. ‘cause you don’t need me and that scares the shit outta me.”
you took a deep breath, hung your head, and nick felt like he was getting to you. 
“please, can you just…come out? so i can talk to you?” he pleaded. he watched as you frowned in contemplation at your feet for five, ten, twenty seconds. finally, he stepped back as you slowly opened the door and stepped outside with your arms folded defensively over your chest. 
“i…” he began, his heart aching over your puffy, red face. “i can’t take it sometimes. your love is too much, ‘cause there’s nothing i’ve ever done that would make me deserve it.” 
finally, you met his eyes. nick felt all his emotions caving into his chest at once. 
“you loving me is like…” he blinked at the sky for a moment. “it’s like…it’s like a flower loving an ant. it doesn’t make sense.” he tapped his temples in emphasis. “and i guess it’s just always been easier to avoid it than work toward even feeling like i deserve it.” 
finally, he was done. he waited for you, praying you would believe him after the trust he had let wilt between you two.
“you always deserved it,” you said quietly, looking to the ground. “just by being you. i never asked for anything but for you to be with me.” 
nick scratched the nape of his neck, his tears sliding lazily down his cheeks. 
“i’m sorry,” he said in a cracked voice. you looked up at him, watched his contorted face for a moment with wet eyes before sighing and blinking. your arms unfolded from your chest, and after a moment’s thought, slowly came around nick’s waist. he pulled you into a tight hug and buried his face in your hair. 
“i’m sorry,” he whispered several more times. you pressed your mouth to his shoulder and let your own tears run at the relief that you wouldn’t have to do this thing; you wouldn’t have to leave the man you love. you heaved a deep breath and melted into him for comfort over the hell that the last few hours had been. 
“please don’t make me feel like that again,” you whispered in a genuine plea. “like you don’t care about me.”
“i won’t. never again. never,” he shook his head, voice muffled. 
suddenly, you let out a small chuckle. 
“what?” nick asked, pulling away slightly. 
“i’m really gonna fail my midterm for you.”
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