#because I do not have the energy to put on sunscreen even though I feel like I should take the opportunity to sit in the sun

[girlitfeelsgood]

It's august and I'm dreading the end of summer so much and it's beautiful outside but I'm having such an off day and I just feel exhausted and bad but I feel so guilty about not doing something outside and I just feel like I haven't enjoyed this summer like I should've, it feels like I have wasted it and I know feeling that way isn't productive because it's just making me feel worse but I can't help it ugh

[arieslost]

home to you | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.

word count: 2,978

warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst

masterlist — join my tag list here!

this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

Your sunburn is peeling.

Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.

“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.

“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”

“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”

“I know,” you reply quietly.

As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You think he doesn’t feel the same way.

When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.

So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.

He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.

“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.

“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”

Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”

“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”

“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”

You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”

“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.

“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”

“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”

“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.

He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.

You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”

His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”

You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”

“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”

“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.

“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”

“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.

“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Osc.”

You hang up first.

“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.

You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.

Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.

Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.

Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.

“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.

“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”

“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.

Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??

“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”

“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.

“Always here for you, mate.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“I don’t care.”

That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”

He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.

She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.

“It’s about-”

“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.

“You do?”

“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”

“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.

“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”

“It never did.”

She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”

She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.

The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.

“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”

Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.

He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.

He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.

“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”

“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.

You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.

He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”

I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.

“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”

“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”

“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”

“Can we talk inside?”

“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”

“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”

“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”

“You didn’t, though.”

“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.

“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”

You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”

“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.

“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”

“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”

You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”

“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.

You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.

“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”

You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”

“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”

You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”

You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.

“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”

“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”

“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.

“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”

“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”

“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.

The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.

It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.

The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.

“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.

“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.

“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.

“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you,” you whisper back.

No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.

note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @niallerswolf @fangirl-dot-com @hood-jabi @vellicora @k-pevensie28 @cami26cami @arian-directioner @vildetry06 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld

[lynnbanks]

It was the first real day out on the lake for the summer with all the boys and a few of the girlfriends including y/n. The sun was high and so was the energy so much so that she had forgotten to re-apply sunscreen leaving her as red as a tomato after her post-lake shower.

Getting sunburnt was never really a problem for her because of her skin type her mother was Caucasian and her father was Micronesian so she was fairly tan most of the year and would turn 3 shades darker in the summer; so sunscreen was never her main priority when having fun on the boat even though she would usually tell her boyfriend to re-apply every chance she got. Today it had just slipped her mind.

And she was left to deal with the consequences looking in the mirror and frowning at what she saw; making quick work to get the aloe vera and applying head to toe or at least what she could reach.

“ LUKE” she yelled out to her boyfriend sitting on the bed “Can you help me real quick?” Luke walked in and before he could agree “What the fuck baby that is bad.” he said looking at her back “I know I need help” she wines “Can you put some of this on my back please” handing him the bottle of aloe.

“This is why you need to put on sunscreen my love this is going to take like a week to heal,” he said in a voice of pity and y/n just frowned at him in the mirror. After thoroughly applying letting it dry and then applying it again.

“There is no way I am going to be able to wear a bra” she said as she pulled a shirt over her head trying to be as careful as possible. “ maybe it's not so bad you got burnt after all,” Luke said with a smirk causing y/n to hit him with her towel “ that is not nice Luke,” she said with a pout “I'm sorry baby I was joking,” he said pulling her to his chest “ we need to get some food in you and some water you will feel better then hmm?” she shook her head yes but didn't pull away just yet.

Down in the kitchen, Luke started preparing a plate for her full of the chicken Jack had just grilled on the new grill he got for his birthday now that he had learned how to cook and all the other sides. Before setting it down in front of y/n “thank you lukey you are very sweet” Leaning up for a kiss he gladly reciprocated “You are very welcome baby”

It wasn't until the next morning that the whole no-bra thing started messing with his head. Y/n was feeling much better and was in the bathroom brushing her teeth when Luke walked in greeting her with a lopsided smile “Good morning baby” “Good morning handsome” she said before rinsing her mouth.

Luke was about to grab his toothbrush before something In the mirror caught his attention; his girlfriend's perfect boobs staring right at him as she started her skincare. Good God that was a direction he thought before continuing his morning routine.

Not even 30 minutes later did it happen again this time in the middle of the conversation he was having with her about breakfast “Lu are you listening” she asked “I-um yeah I'm listening” That was a lie.

And again about an hour later when they had made their way out to the hammock they sat in every day at least once. When she had laid down on his chest and he could feel her boob press to his chest in a way they couldn't when she had a bra on; causing a groan to slip out of his throat.

“Sorry Lu I didn't mean to hurt you” y/n said trying to sit up but before she could Luke pulled her down to where she was “It's not that it's these,” he said slipping a hand up into her shirt, and giving her a hard squeeze “ oh” she moans slightly “ my boobs are the problem?” “ they might be if we don't do something about it right now,” he said voice low even though they were the only ones outside “Well we aren't doing anything about it out here that is for sure.”

And I will leave the rest for y'all to imagine <3

[cat3ch1sm]

Hi hope you're feeling better 💙 if I may ask again (cause ur writing is so good 💕)could I please have some wholesome and funny camping headcanons with the main four?(killua, gon, kurapika and leorio)

🪐~ hi there! thanks for asking abt my health, im taking it one day at a time :) here’s ur request!! to be clear there is no limit on how many requests one person can send in! so if u think you’re being annoying by sending in several requests don’t. i love you guys’ ideas

𝐡𝐱𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

gon is definitely the one who proposes the idea of camping. the others have to be convinced. but when gon really wants you to do something his eyes get all sparkly and big and earnest and he’s hard to say no to so eventually everyone always pulls up at the campsite

gon and killua have a ton of fun on the hike to the campsite in the woods. they’re just playing tag and chasing each other and swinging on trees and running up this steep ass hill like nobody’s business. kurapika isn’t as eager but he doesn’t have trouble actually hiking. but by the time they reach the site leorio is half dead

gon still pulls up in his fuck ass green shorts and cardigan even though they’re near water and they’re outside in the woods and there are a shit ton of mosquitoes

kurapika in a tank top. that’s all

killua does not even bother avoiding things like anthills and beehives and shi he just walks straight through them and the insects don’t even bother him

gon teaches the whole gang how to fish and Kurapika is a natural for some reason. leorio eventually gets the hang of it. but killua is positively disgusted by the worms they have to use as bait

doesn’t stop him from tossing a few down leorio and kurapika’s shirts though

kurapika is actually really proficient in the wild somehow- he remembers to pack all the essentials, knows how to set up a shelter (even though they have a tent) and knows what to do in case of things like flash floods or forest fires

there is always this one squirrel that will not stop following gon. he keeps feeding it and even though everyone says not to because then it’ll never leave him alone, gon doesn’t care. the squirrel seems genuinely attached to him and likes to chill on gon’s shoulder

there is also a squirrel that follows leorio simply to steal his food.

leorio and killua argue nonstop about how to set up the tents until kurapika swoops in while they’re busy fighting and just wordlessly puts them up himself

of course killua and gon share a tent while leorio and kurapika share the other

kurapika is basically gon and killua’s parent on camping trips because they’re twelve year old boys and super reckless. so before they go running off somewhere kurapika always drowns them in bug spray and sunscreen and makes sure they have full water bottles

for some reason killua is dead set on catching his own food. not like casual fishing like gon does, but he literally just wants to go into the woods and kill animals with his bare hands and bring them back to cook even though that’s definitely not how that works

of course Kurapika is prepared though. he brought things like trail mix and sunflower seeds and nuts and some meat. he also brings s’mores for them to make over the fire

starting the fire, by the way, gives them absolute hell. kurapika’s matches won’t light and killua’s lightning flashes too quick and gon can’t muster up enough heat energy from his nen to make the fire. after an hour though, when leorio leaves his glasses sitting right beside the pile of wood, the sun catches in the lens and finally lights the fire. leorio barely saves his glasses in time from the blaze

gon is a literal mosquito magnet for no reason. even despite the bug spray he comes back from his escapades with killua itching like crazy until Kurapika to the rescue gives him ointment to help with it

kurapika for some reason always burns his marshmallows in the fire when they’re making s’mores. he does it on purpose too and killua always makes it clear that he’s judging him for eating the burnt marshmallows

killua thought it would be fun to light the marshmallow on fire and then try and eat the literal flaming marshmallow. gon wanted to try too, but both leorio and kurapika shut that down real quick

when it’s time to go to bed and it’s dark gon climbs the trees and looks at the stars because he thinks they’re pretty. killua calls him corny but always joins him in the trees

kurapika just stays awake below, quietly watching the two talk and laugh in the tree

gon and killua always wind up falling asleep in the trees despite claiming that they’ll come back down

[beatsboy]

8.18.24 / week 8 of being a delusional artist

day 4 of moon time

how did i live like a delusional artist today? maybe in photographing my period stains on my bed maybe in journaling my dream about my ex the minute i woke up at 7am before going right back to bed because i can’t stand to be awake for another moment after having to freshly remember that they’re not here again (these dreams are like waking up to a fresh bandaid being torn off the wound over and over again) maybe in procrastinating, for they say that all artists do this, and while i know this is true, i am struggling to get unstuck and stay unstuck lately. it’s hard to fully break out of the cave, when you’re stuck, when you’re by yourself. sweet pea helps, licking my face (i swear) to remind me to go to the bathroom, to eat, to go outside. all he does is lick my face, so i have to interpret these as signals to get moving. last night, for instance, i was sitting on my computer for far too long, on the couch next to sweet pea. and promptly, as my bladder started to nag at me to go to the bathroom, he started to lick my face, inhibiting me from using my computer.

i’m starting to think he parents me more than i parent him, and i only pretend that it’s the other way around to feel better about my lack of self-sufficiency as a human adult. my fucking goals for tomorrow are to eat 3 meals, first one before 11. like, come on.

i just feel so slow while i’m bleeding, and i know that it will be over soon, but i think part of the reason i need to spiritualize it, to give it meaning, is because it’s just so fucking painful, physically, emotionally, and generally in relation to my gender.

i was supposed to leave the house today, and i did get all ready to do so, another sunday where i put my swim trunks on and waited. this time, it never came time to go, the party wrapped early, and i remained, having spent time getting ready, covered in sunscreen, with nowhere to go. and instead of quickly pivoting to art, which was very possible at that time, i got stuck. i got stuck waiting to go to bri’s to return their keys, for no reason at all, and then got stuck when i got home, and finally unstuck enough to make myself some food at 10pm, do the dishes, change the sheets (i did do some cleaning today, just very slowly, like imagine a slug doing chores, very slowly, and getting caught on corners), and sit here and journal.

i have therapy tomorrow, and tomorrow, i swear to god, i will continue working on music again. i had a good groove of working every day, basically until i finished boypop, which some have suggested i rename (which, yes, maybe, but what?) then, i got out of it, because it is so hard for me for some reason to maintain a consistent practice with my craft while working and socializing fucking still even though i don’t even work a full-time job like that. it’s truly not that i don’t have the time, it’s that i don’t have the energy? the focus? the routine?

healthy habits start small, though, right? i am believing in my future self, that i can make the new dates i’ve set for the release timeline. and i am giving myself these deadlines because i deserve to share my work with the world and i can’t wait any longer. i believe in the artist i want to be, in the artist i will be, because i am building toward it today. i am building my practice. i know i am good at what i do, i know i can do what i need to do to finish this project. i just need to focus and finish.

i’ve never completed an album before (unless you count the collection of phone demos i dropped on soundcloud for the lore) that’s like comparing publishing a fanfic on ao3 to getting your debut novel published, there’s a lot of extra steps that separate the two. it’s all i’ve ever wanted, so why am i waiting? why would i put off becoming the pop star i have dreamt of being since i was a fucking child? i am alone in my own apartment that i pay for with my own fucking money, why am i not spending every second making art in it? this is what i have always wanted for myself, space and time to make art, and i feel like i am wasting it spiraling and cleaning and pinteresting and tumblring and cleaning and looking up if the chemicals in my soap are poisoning me (pretty sure everything is poisoning me at this point)

i want to be fair to myself, i have not been completely idle. i redid the release timeline last night. i made a pitch deck for the next photoshoot the other day. i watched alien, for research (lol, but seriously!) i have been brainstorming the entire vibe/aesthetic/characterization of this persona, trying to mend together what we initially envisioned and what the music video shoot is giving (which are kind of different things but it’s ok)

the thing is, though, these things are part of the art, they are necessary to the art, to communicating the art to the people, to the audience. that does not make them art, though. the job part. the industry part. and sometimes i get so lost in these parts, that i forget that the whole point is to be able to sustain making art for the rest of my life. and none of this bullshit is worth it if i’m not making art. and if i’m not making art, it’s not going to feel like it either.

here is to tomorrow, to getting back to a daily practice, even if it’s in the form of small steps.

[rhythm-catsandwine]

Vent about a not-fun situation, that one would think I could fix but can't for reasons...... partly due to trauma response. But other parts NOT!

I will delet later.

Soooo a few followers/mutuals know most of my life situations and absolute hell that I have endured.

I live with my two youngest cousins. And the youngest cousin's gf. We live in a house owned by my aunt and uncle. Three of us pay rent. The third does not for a few reasons. Even though she could.

She has groups of friends over often. There are only two bathrooms. One with a good shower and one with a shity one. The good one is shared by me and one cousin and her. She has at least 4 people over for parts. she is oddly protective or something about her friends being over. She moved in because of a abusive situation. So Idk if she was able to do stuff like this. So I understand if that is the case.

They are friendly and have never said that they wanted me to leave or said anything els along those lines. But I pick up on energies and vibes. It feels like I'm intruding or taking up space. But that's part due to trauma. But also not...because of the energies that I cant really figure out except part is the intruding but other is something I don't know. IF that makes sense.

But here is the deal...They are usually in our bathroom. I get that they do hair stuff like coloring each others hair or something of those lines. I get there are at least 5 people for that bathroom. But they are almost always in there or one of them is. I get with drinking and stuff that's going to happen. But I have been walking most of the day and doing other stuff outside . I have to keep sunscreen on cus of my meds and risk of skin cancer. I hadn't taken a shower yet. I was able to get a couple washcloths and clean up for the most part. But I do want a shower. Worst comes to it I can put towles down to sleep in bed. I could shower in the other bathroom but I'm really not supposed to.

I have also not eaten much today. Only 1000 calories. I eat mostly meat for my RA. Only problem is one of the friends is vegan. They are triggered by some smells and sights of meat. So I can't warm my stuff in the microwave. All I can eat is a few protein bars or make a protein shake in a shaker bottle. I don't have money to go eat somewhere....even just a rotisserie chicken, and I can not eat lunch meat. IDK if these people are spending the night or not. And it's too awkward to ask.

I will be fine. I know how to survive in situations like this. But it fucking sucks!

[flannelepicurean]

Redneck Raditz: The Locals

There are so many OCs in this it's just a whole entire goddamn Situation, but you literally cannot write about somebody moving into a Southern town without there being a fuckin' town. Anyway, here are some of the most well-developed peeps:

Debra (Miss Debra) is the diner waitress. Yes, there are other waitresses at the diner. But she is THE diner waitress. Nothing fazes her, and she is very sweet, but you better bring your manners. She doesn't really get mad, but you will feel ashamed of yourself in the worst way if you disappoint Miss Debra with your behavior. She's got that classic Southern hospitality that's actually genuine, and she will not steer you wrong on a menu recommendation. She's from the same manufactory that spun out Dolly Parton, but she's not as glamorous on the outside. She and Miss Dolly would get along great, though, and Dolly would recognize a kindred soul.

"The Guys" consist of Wayne, Kevin, Ryan, and Derrick. They're the crew Raditz hangs out with when he's not working at the hardware store or haunting the diner. They smoke weed and play Playstation and do other hanging-out type shit, and they're still friends with Raditz even though his ass be cheatin' at Tekken.

Wayne is a real chunky guy who doesn't wear enough sunscreen even though he really should, and gets that "sun-bleached blonde, sunburnt edges" look in the 71% of the year that's pretty damn warm. Favors flannel shirts (lighter fabric, unbuttoned, ripped-off sleeves over a white tee or a tank in the warmer months) trucker hats with truck-related stuff on 'em. He's got the thickest accent, or at least the most animated one (there's a difference). Tends to talk at a spirited canter. He's frequently the first moral compass of the group, and tries to get Kevin to act like he's got some goddamn sense. Wayne will get vocal about when someone "ought not to've done that," if they're acting like a real asshole, even if he's not physically enforcing it.

Kevin is a Cory, of Cory and Trevor, of Trailer Park Boys, type of guy. 😂 Basically the same edition of dude, but not a physical copy. He's a little low-key on his energy, but extremely goofy, and often off-target on shit. He lives in sweatpants and jerseys and mildly obnoxious tee shirts and hoodies. Not a full-time hat wearer, but will put on an Adidas logo snapback every now and again.

Ryan is a mechanic. He's not terribly tall, and pretty wiry, but he has a presence. His hands are always a little grungy-looking, and his nails are always kinda black under the edges. His eyes are a little deep-set, and light green, and his hair and his sorta-whatever mustache situation are that kind of easily-overlooked light brown that like...wild rabbits have in their coats. He hangs out in his shop shirts and jeans and boots and that baseball cap that's kinda ???-colored because he's worn it at the shop for so many years. Ryan doesn't say much. But when he does, it's to the point. Ryan is a sage.

Derrick is "Derrick With the Truck." Not that nobody else has a truck; there are a LOT of trucks around. Derrick has a Truck, one of those pickup trucks with the fat ass and the extra tires and a big enough truckbed that all of The Guys, and Raditz, and maybe a couple other people, can get down to someplace to have a good time, and they can guaranteed lay Raditz's drunk ass in the back and still have room to drive everybody home after. Derrick is a Black guy with some height and some heft on him. He wears jeans a lot, but he goes for a little nicer shirts than the other guys. Short-sleeved button-downs in the warmer months; V-neck sweater with a white tee or a casual button-down under it in the cooler months. Derrick also doesn't say much, but he's got a sense of humor. He's a practical guy, and he likes to be helpful, but he's got good boundaries.

There are some other folks who fill out the roster in this thing, but I don't have as much about them yet. :)

[alisheaburgess]

The Death of 'Me': A Travel Memoir Part 4 of "yes"

April 6, 2022 (Still chilling... but I effed up...) (Full Journey Map)

This day was not that chill, but I was really trying 😅

I still didn't have a whole lot of energy at this point but exploring was calling my name! So I was a bit more up and at 'em.

When I tell you that everything is different there, it's so freeing. The thing is, nearly nekkid people are walking around the city as ads... and everyone else was wearing anything from cheesy vacation clothes to formal wear. Nobody cares what you are wearing here.

I come from an area and an upbringing that 'prefers' being covered up. I can struggle to wear certain clothes that I feel like 90% of the population wouldn't bat an eye at. But here? Nope! I felt so free to wear whatever I wanted, for the first time. And I did. Obviously, I didn't have anything crazy but I did think to bring the outfits I couldn't bring myself to wear back home. It was colors and styles that were just more fun too. Stuff that stood out. I don't like to be seen so much, but nobody saw me here. And I loved it 😂

I was gonna get purdied up and go explore outside the hotel a bit. There was a promenade right outside the hotel... I'm not exaggerating either. It was so much fun.

I picked out an outfit to wear and was doing my hair and stuff. Nothing crazy... as expected. But after I get done with my makeup and everything, something felt off...

I didn't understand why my makeup was melting off my face. My face started kinda burning... Turns out, my precaution sunscreen under my makeup wasn't for your face! I should know this but didn't. It had been years since I had worn much less paid attention to makeup and skincare. It had been long enough that I forgot how sensitive my skin was!!! I shouldn't have been putting anything new on my face! 😅

But, I got it washed off... And now my face looks like a tomato. It doesn't even look burnt, just weird lol

This doesn't do it justice!!! It was bright red and stayed that way for days! 😅🤣 and I couldn't use any of the makeup I brought the whole week! (I wish I could make this picture smaller though lol)

So yeah, great start to exploring 😂

I was still so determined to go out. I figured that nobody knew me and maybe they would just think I was sunburnt if anyone saw. So away I went...

I did get to go out in the outfit I picked so I still felt pretty good. It was still liberating even with a tomato face hehe (I don't have any pics of the outfits because I wasn't planning to share...). For the next trips, I will be making sure to take more pics with me in them! These could almost be anyone's memories. I have very little proof to myself that I was the one that experienced this firsthand. Believe it or not, I have a really good imagination and can feel like I have been to places that I haven't. Which is why I think flying felt so familiar to me... I like the idea of flying off into nowhere so I imagine traveling and airports a lot... too much maybe 😅

With so much around me to go see, I knew I didn't have to go very far to see a lot of stuff and get a feel for things. I didn't expect myself to trek the entire strip or anything... But I wanted to feel like I went somewhere.

I don't think I was gone for even an hour before I felt like heading back. A huge start for me. I start small and then work myself up slowly. I made sure to return before I felt it was too much. I wasn't here to exercise my scaredy-cat muscles! Not specifically anyway...

Proof that I did in fact, leave the hotel... 😂😅

This is a slightly deceptive pic, however. This is only a small section of the hotel...

I walked a bit on either side of it. Which did end up being useful later on. Just from my little walk I could get a pretty good idea of where I was and the stuff around me. I had all but studied the map of the area surrounding my hotel when I booked... Maybe that's weird, I don't know 😅😂 It greatly helped my anxiety but was also just really fun. Maps are kinda fun.

Everything where I was had so much going on. The roads were dressed up, if that can happen... Everything is dressed up and expensive looking 😂

I thought this was a cute little cubby of restaurants. It was tucked into the side of fa bigger building, almost hidden.

I went to Guy Fieri’s restaurant, which was also… just downstairs from my room 😂 (The main message is I never had to go far, but got to do a lot… hehe)

I learned a lot here. Most importantly, if you have never had bourbon…let me describe my experience…

If shoes had butts… they would taste like bourbon… I will leave that there…

I was ready to pay for it still but they took it off my tab before I could even ask for anything else 😊 I was super grateful.

I don't know why I thought people were making a big deal about the burn of alcohol...I'm nearly 100% certain it's the taste they don't like now.

Everything else was delish, of course, 🥰 alcohol just isn’t for me. I would rather eat dessert, thanks. 😂

Something I just can't get over.

Ya'll have probably ridden in an elevator... but you know how it's a bit of a wait, right? It can get a little scary in some?

The elevators there go at the speed of light! And it's so smooth!!!

This shouldn't be such a big deal but it is 😂 They were so nice. Riding in the elevators was enlightening. You don't realize just how behind things are back home until you leave home!

I recorded it on my phone because it was that big of a deal to me. I was on the eleventh floor and it took SECONDS to get down.

I'm not adding the video here because it's crap quality, but it's only 37 secs, and most of that is me getting in and hitting the button 😅😂

That was how I spent my third day of the trip. Walking around and surviving...sorta XD

This experience I had really made me curious about what other places could unlock just from one visit. I was now more empowered to wear things I wanted to. What's next? What else don't I know? I can't wait to find out, honestly! 🥰 This felt like being in a different movie and experiencing everything from a different lens and as a new character. Suddenly there was a different writer or something. The music felt different. The ideas I had were new...

I don't have a whole lot recorded as I really didn't think about sharing this on here. So this is just what I remember and have to pictures to spark memories for. 😊 Thanks for reading!

[aonoexpat]

Stumbled a little bit, but getting back up!

14-02-2023

After the rush of running around getting a bank account, a tax number, a phone number, a guitar, a more permanent place to stay and a job, I somehow, miraculously, weirdly, had a little dip in my energy levels. So I spent some days sorting myself out a little more calmly, and granted myself a late afternoon trip to the beach for my first swim!

The weather was still lovely and the water was very refreshing, though I hurried out again quite quickly when I saw a sting ray egg and confused it for a jellyfish 😅

That night my friend took me to Wilton's bush to go glow worm spotting. It was absolutely magical to see them just hanging (literally) around in such numbers. Unfortunately my camera couldn't capture their faint light, but imagine that starry tunnel in Efteling's Droomvlucht and you'll get an accurate idea of what it looked like. We also saw some spiders, and eels in the creek (I touched one and it was YUCKY):

The next day we went on a beautiful hike along the Skyline track, which was my first introduction to the scorching Aotearoa sun. I applied SPF50 broad-spectrum sunscreen a total of four times in three hours and still got very close to getting burned. But the views were grand! It's funny how hills in the background can sometimes feel like generated terrain in video games, like places outside of the map you can move in as a player. But you can just walk up them, and there's a path there, and you can go anywhere you like, and it makes you feel really free 😊

The background choir of cicadas is still ringing in my ears. These noisy little bugs are everywhere around here, but difficult to spot sometimes. I managed to capture this one on film, but be warned: it's LOUD

I ended up with two huge blisters on my heels from the hike, but don't you think for a second that that stopped me from going to a ceilidh dance at the local Gaelic Club that evening! Had a grand time, and the keyboard player celebrated his 90th birthday with us :)

The next day it was time to put my skills to the test and try my hand at busking at the Harbourside fruit & veggie market. I got there way too late so it was tricky to find a good spot, but I ended up playing for about 2.5 hours and made upwards of 30 bucks, so I was pretty content! I also got gifted a plate of food and a nice cold can of Sprite by a passer-by, and a lady told me to get a loudspeaker so people could hear me better. Luckily I already got my hands on one the other day, so next time I'll bring it!

A great experience all in all, but unfortunately this was also my second encounter with the intensity of the sun, and this time I wasn't as well-prepared.

As you can see, it was a fairly overcast day, so I thought it was safe enough. But I sorely (again, literally) regret putting off applying sunscreen for as long as I did, for the next day my friend found me throwing up in the bathroom with a bright red and swollen face. "Sun stroke? Yeah. It happens." He got me a glass of water and some rehydration medicine and kept a watchful eye over me the rest of the day. It's times like this when I curse the pressing issue of online privacy because I vowed not to upload pictures of my face on this blog but by god you should have seen it, it's still not back to normal and probably won't be for up to a week. It's painful and itchy and has started to peel now, and every time I look in the mirror I'm reminded of what a fool I was for thinking it would be fine. A hard-learned lesson I won't soon forget.

Here's my artist's rendition of the transformation of my face:

So, I've been taking it easy since then: staying in as much as possible, watching some House of the Dragon on my friend's HBO account, convincing my bank that yes, I do have a valid visa, and no, I'm not laundering money, and figuring out how to work that loudspeaker for next weekend's markets. There's a storm raging over the North Island right now, cyclone Gabrielle, so staying in isn't much of a punishment. Te Whanganui-a-tara mostly experiences rain and strong winds, luckily nothing that warrants alarm, let alone evacuations.

Tomorrow I start my training at the bar, which I'm very excited about! It turns out the wages as established in my contract are a little stingy, but I'll live. I'm happy to have something for now, and if I don't enjoy it enough, I'll leave again. I look forward to having more of a routine, and a steady income to ease my worries a little. Life here is expensive, and with money transfers from The Netherlands taking several working days to arrive I'm feeling a little anxious every now and then. Luckily my friends here are happy to help me out if necessary. I'm very, very lucky to have them to rely on over here ❤️

[unbakehisbeans]

I’m reflecting on, like, my personal relationship with the demands of beauty as a woman and particularly as a woman of colour and how my relationship to that has changed over time. And I really don’t have any big conclusions to draw from this, it’s just kind of harrowing honestly.

Basically until adulthood I was really self conscious about my weight, the breadth of my shoulders, my body hair, the hair on my head, the size of my nose, the colour of my skin, the size and shape of my breasts, the size of my waist, the size of my butt, etc. And while I never really had the means to do much about most of those things, I’m remembering how much distress this caused me and how much time and energy I spent on addressing these perceived flaws.

Like I was shaving basically my whole body on the regular, trying to smooth and straighten my hair, abusing my skin for a while to get clear skin (idk why I ever did this? I’ve never really had much acne), dieting and starving myself and exercising all the time, wearing uncomfortable and super tight clothes to show off how skinny I was, wearing push-up bras constantly even though my body is just literally incapable of cleavage, tweezing oh my god the horrible tweezing of my upper lip and my cheeks and my eyebrows, and there’s probably more stuff I’m forgetting.

And this was all right around the same time that advertisers found it was profitable to convince women that you’re doing all of this “for you,” that it was about self care or being confident in yourself, and I’m really disturbed by this in retrospect. Like, I was never confident and it was never “for me” it was very definitely to appear as much like a conventionally pretty, skinny, hairless, white girl with an hourglass figure. Like my horror at being a hairy Arab girl, how troubled I was about the hair on my face and my body and eventually I was (and am now) fuzzy with lanugo which is horrifying for a whole host of reasons. And I was so ashamed of my curly, frizzy hair, and I could never even style it nicely because I was trying to make it as straight and smooth as possible instead of accepting that it’s curly and just styling the curls that are there…. And when I was even younger, middle school and before, I was really ashamed of my, frankly, very light brown skin. Like I thought I was dark and that that was unattractive, and I’m really saddened and horrified by that now! And even though I’ve always been very thin I was furious about my waist not being proportionally teeny tiny compared to my hips, and I hated my small butt and small boobs—as if it’s realistic to be this skinny and still have a fat ass and big tits?! And I remember thinking about how as soon as I got the chance I was gonna get rhinoplasty and a breast augmentation and expensive, constant hair treatments to straighten my hair, laser hair removal, etc.

And I felt like I had sort of moved past that in adulthood. I stopped wearing makeup, stopped shaving and plucking, stopped straightening and fighting with my hair, stopped dieting and doing crazy exercise, all that stuff, right? But now I’m realizing that I haven’t really moved past it. I’ve sort of achieved a necessary and relatively healthy neutrality with my body where I’m not actively ashamed of my appearance and I’m not putting such great and frantic effort into it either. BUT what I never stopped doing is hiding my body hair, I usually don’t wear crop tops, sleeveless shirts, anything that shows my legs unless I have shaved. And I still feel self conscious about wearing clothes that don’t show how skinny I am, I feel uncomfortable in loose, billowy clothes because how will people know that I’m skinny and therefore pretty, right? This is a bizarre way to think about clothing and my body! And more recently I’m increasingly terrified of aging, Im scared of turning 23, I wanna be 22 forever. And I’m spending all this time and money on anti-aging now, using retinol and constantly wearing sunscreen, massaging my face and trying not to frown so I don’t get wrinkles, trying to lie on my back when I sleep so I don’t get wrinkles, constantly worrying about whether my boobs are every bit as perky as they were when I first grew them 😂 And I find myself now considering getting Botox, considering getting laser resurfacing to help with my scarring and hyperpigmentation and potentially reducing wrinkles and fine lines, considering getting one of those weird expensive microcurrent devices!

I may have recovered from my eating disorder for the most part, but I’m still afraid of gaining “too much” weight. I feel like I look old at 22, I see the occasional grey hair on my head or I see the spots where I’m going to get wrinkles when I’m older and I’m terrified! At 22 I’m scared that I’m not as cute as I was at 18 or 20 and that I’m going to be less and less cute over time, and I’m ashamed and horrified by it!

It’s so absurd and so harrowing, like, I know that not only am I not alone in feeling this way but that many other women probably have this way worse than I do. And I’m horrified by how much people buy in to the marketing that this is “for you” that it’s not actually for men it’s not actually because you think that you’re ugly and worthless without it that this is actually about confidence and not about the abject body horror of the demands of femininity.

[chiliiscereal]

May I offer a prompt of how the turtles would be with a mom friendTM? you know the type I mean? like.... I think they might benefit from that kind of friend in the group lol (also I love your stories, your such a cool writer keep up the awesome work!)

Rottmnt headcanon: mom friend TM

And thanks so much!

Mom friends are severely underrated XD

——

-Okay these boys need a mom friend badly

-but that’s where you come in!

-as the mom friend you keep them safe in many ways

Donnie💜

-starting with this guy, he never really wanted a mom friend

-when April first brought you over he was cold

-didn’t even bother talking to you

-you were determined to befriend him, even though he left whenever you tried to talk to him

-you became comfortable with the turtles quickly and the others accepted your mom friend nature

-not Donnie though

-he didn’t hate you, sure, but you were too much

-you were too overbearing and too nervous for his safety!

-you’d make him wear a helmet when he used his jet pack 

-you made him put on SUNSCREEN whenever he went outside

-you told him to be careful when rewiring a project even!

-it’s like you wanted to ruin his bad boy image

-he hated it and wanted you to stop being so smothering

-…

-…until he realized that attention and moral support comes with the smothering

-the moment he realizes that he’s all for it

-he’s no longer hiding his inventions from you so you won’t bug him, but he’s seeking you out for your advice and praise

“Hey so I made this and… I don’t know…”

“Wow you built that? It’s awesome!” 

“Really? I mean, I know, I just wanted to show you that it was.”

-praise ain’t something this boy has

-have you SEEN how his brothers react to his ideas?

-he needs this

-with praise comes affection

-I’m talking homemade snacks and questions that his brothers never ask

-you’re there if he needs a cup of coffee or if he hasn’t eaten in a while or taken a nap

-“don, it’s been two days since you slept go to bed.”

-“*hissssss*”

-“I’ll make a cup of coffee for you after...?”

-“*hisses but less intense*”

-you may be good at making snacks and everything

-very good in facts

-but the questions are probably his favorite part

“Woah what’s that supposed to do?”

“Well it’s a device that’s meant to fix all the broken McDonald’s ice cream machines.”

“That’s amazing! What did you use to build it? How does it work?”

-you’re actually trying to learn about his work!

-you’re trying to learn about him!

-he loves it

-and he loves that you’re careful to

-it’s a nice change from his brothers

-you’re someone he can depend on

-doesn’t matter if it’s missions or just being a good friend

-and I mean it when I say depend

-you’re there when he needs help rewiring something or just to simply talk about his dumb dumb brothers

-honestly April isn’t even mad that Donnie stole one of her best friends

-she knows he needs this

-Donnie fully learned to trust you after the purple dragons mishap

-you told him they were untrustworthy but his heart was dead set on that satin jacket

-when he came back to the lair, late at night, with no satin jacket and a handful of his missing tech, he found you raising an eyebrow at him from where you had sat to wait for him

-he knew from then on to trust you and your opinions, even though his often got in the way

-you can often be found sitting on Donnies bed while he works, offering your company and comments

-Normally no one else is allowed in while he works but that’s just because they don’t have anything positive to provide

 Raph❤️ 

-Raph IS the mom friend

-your mom friend energy and his mom friend energy just work together so well together

-I’m talking planning missions together, figuring new ways to trick his brothers into being responsible, cleaning the dishes, and even making snacks together

-“so the mission is tomorrow right?”

-“yep! Should we bring apples with peanut butter or pretzels with hummus?”

-“well Donnie doesn’t like peanut butter, but Mikey does, so both?”

-“awesome! And you’ve got the water covered?”

-“dude I even have caprisuns packed so we’re ready!”

-the others find it to be too much with the two of you but Raph really appreciates the help

-especially during the pizza puff episode

-oh that part nearly set you on fire with worry

-Raph had never seen you that worked up

-you had a fan for Leo, a bowl for Mikey, and a bag of fruit snacks for Donnie

-Raph has to activate his supreme mom friend energy to get you to stop hovering over them

-that meant literally dragging you away from them so they could figure things out on their own

-he’s seen you be a mom friend to them all the time

-but never once for him

-you two were like... co mom friends working together to stop the younger irresponsible three

-until Raph got separated in the sewer

-oh man you were torn with worry

-you nearly destoryed the place looking for him

-and finding him all savage like that... ack that was enough to practically shatter your heart in two

-once he stopped trying to barbecue villains and destroy his brothers you took him to the lair and helped him calm down

-you even turned on a movie for the two of you so he could relax

-it was nice to have your best friend and partner in stopping crime back

-Raph of course was embarrassed because it’s HIS job to help everyone, not the other way around

-after much assurance you had him convinced that you didn’t mind

-he was grateful to have you and your help

-he just wished you didn’t worry quite so much

Leo 💙:

-this boy is soaking it all up from the start

-someone to compliment him?

-someone to help him out?

-someone to admire his achievements?

-oh he’s all for it

-he’s showing off skateboard stunts, he’s doing flips, and he’s randomly pulling you to him and creating a portal

-usually you end up somewhere sketchy but sometimes it works out

-you always have to be ready though

-one minute you’re walking to the projector room and the next you’re in New Jersey with a sheepish looking red slider

-his only problem is now he has to be more careful with skateboard tricks

-he’s fine with a helmet but when it comes to you hovering next to him while he’s going down the skate ramp...

-eh he’s not so fond of that

-praise?

-sure

-home made gifts and cards?

-always appreciated

-but you constantly trying to protect him from things he knew how to do?

-no

-just no

-now he only feels like he can skate if you’re not there or if he goes to a skate park without telling you

-you figure out quickly and still worry that he’ll mess up a flip

-doesn’t matter if you’re watching or not

-you’re the mom friend

-your job is to worry

-you promised that you’d stop worrying about him if he can back

-you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable in his own home!

-he agreed and you did your best to keep your promise

-...

-until he actually messed up a flip

-you don’t know WHAT he landed on but it must have been sharp because there was a LOT of blood

-maybe you thought there was a lot because you were so worried but still

-you hadn’t even been in the room but you heard his shout (and crash) and you came running

-oh he was lucky you carried gauze and everything in your bag because other wise they’d have to go buy some

-you chewed him out while patching him up, much to his displeasure

-you’re both sweet and sour about it

-“I’m fine! Look, nothing’s broken!”

-“I TOLD you that you could get hurt! I TOLD you it wasn’t safe! Why did you not listen- I’m sorry does that hurt? I’m sorry!”

-“yeah it does hurt-.”

-“than you should have listened to me!!”

-for a while he’s bitter that you were just waiting for him to mess up

-clearly you thought he was just a big clutz to you

-but after a while of him avoiding you and pouting you brought it up again

-“I’m not just waiting for you to fail you know. I just want you to be okay.”

-“that’s not what it feels like! You clearly don’t trust me!”

-“life happens, Leo! Doesn’t matter how skilled you are! You’re an amazing skater but sometimes mistakes are made!”

-ha that changed his tune quickly

-“you think I’m an amazing and skilled skater?

-you just rolled your eyes and left, not saying anything about his comment

-didn’t matter

-this boy is all smiles for the rest of the day

Mikey🧡:

-he was on board from the very start

-he’s got cuddles, piggy back rides, and his own art fan/critic

-lots of baking and cooking together

-maybe even drawing if he’s lucky

-only problem?

-you don’t trust him to go out on his own

-even if it’s just to grab a video game from the store or pick up pizza

-“I’m just going down the block!”

-“what if someone sees you?”

-“I’ll be careful!”

-“just let me go with you.”

-“no! I can do this on my own!”

-you’re always offering to give him a ride or tag along just because you don’t want anything to happen to him

-that means, of course, sneaking out

-not for a long time, just enough to get some air

-but that also means you’re staying up late waiting for him to come back

-he’s your buddy!

-you can’t let anything happen to him!

-he didn’t know about it until he found you cashed out on the couch with the lamp still on

-normally you gave him an excuse about why you were still up, such as a late night snack or a movie

-but your phone and the tv were both off

-he decided to think nothing of it until he noticed that you were grumpier in the mornings

-he didn’t want his actions to affect you so he started coming back earlier

-even texting you and telling you he was fine

-you two talked and set up a deal

-he could go out by himself and you wouldn’t stay up late waiting for him as long as you had his location on your phone

-it was easier for both you from then on

[wri0thesley]

A Well Rounded Education (4): Equality Statement (Fem!Reader x Naoya Zenin, 7.5k)

series synopsis: you are a teacher’s aid to teacher Gojo Satoru, training to be able to take over your own class next year by shadowing and helping him out. gojo, unfortunately, does not make things easy for anybody.

chapter synopsis: you make the mistake of crossing naoya zenin at a sports festival and are forced to apologise. but as you well know by now, nothing ever seems to go to plan where any of your student’s fathers are concerned. 

NSFW. MINORS DNI. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. misogyny, weird power dynamics, hate-sex, piv sex, blowjobs. naoya.  

(a well rounded education m.list and navigation)   ♡  (jujutsu kaisen masterlist)

1.

The Saturday morning that your first ever undokai is scheduled for dawns bright and early, and you can’t help the little thrill that goes through you at the golden fingers of dawn lighting up your room. There’d been talk of the weekend bringing rain, and things needing to be rescheduled – but it’s perfect weather, as you put on a comfortable tank top and shorts instead of your neat pencil skirt and suit jacket combination.

This will be your first event of the kind, and you’re excited about it. The kids in the class have been practising all of their cheers and routines and the like constantly, whilst the ones involved in the competitive sports have been cheering one another on and snatching time when they can to race against one another in preparation. It’s been nice to see all of the camaraderie between them – even some of the quieter ones have seemed to come a little bit out of their shell, with so much team spirit in the air.

Well. Most of them have. You’ve noticed Junpei still hanging back, face sad, uncomfortable when other boys crowd him and tug him off to who knows where – probably to get him involved in their own practises or rehearsals.

It’s been long and hard preparing for it, but even Gojo has been focused on something for once.

“There’s just something about events like this!” Gojo chirped to you, once, as he’d held up a megaphone he did not really need and called his class back into formation in front of him. “You know! The joy of youth! I want them to have the best time possible! They deserve it.”

Seeing Gojo’s mischievous eyes sparkle with determination instead of humour had made you smile at him, and you’d felt a strange pull in your chest when he’d smiled back, needing to pull your gaze away to ask Yuuji to stop poking Megumi in the back to get him to look at a weird caterpillar he’d found on the ground.

As a junior high undokai, things are a little more competitive than they might be if this were an elementary school or even a middle school event, but there’s still a big emphasis on the teamwork and the cheering on portion of the day. You’ve watched and applauded what feels like a hundred practises for the cheering section, confiscating whistles when they’re sneakily blown whilst you’re trying to teach a mathematics lesson.

Still, you’re not surprised to see that Gojo’s class have been corralled into his classroom whilst your vivacious teacher and mentor gives them a rallying encouragement that seems to contain a lot of bigging up the fact that they are, in fact, his class.

“I thought the pep talk was for them,” you say, as heads turn to you when you walk into the room. It’s strange to see all of the faces dressed in their gym uniforms instead of their school uniforms – and it’s even stranger to be wearing an approximation of it yourself.

“You look nice!” Yuji pipes up, and you smile at him.

“It is for them,” Gojo brings a hand to his sunglasses to push them down a little, giving you a charming smile and the full force of the galaxies swirling in his eyes. “I’m just reminding them that as Satoru Gojo’s class, of course they’re going to do well! We’re going to be the strongest, and win!” He looks at all of them – bright shining faces turned to him, all lit up with the excitement of competition. There’s something in him that you rarely see right now – something encouraging and bright and compassionate. He genuinely seems to want them to do well. “I believe in all of you!”

The warmth spreading through your chest at Gojo’s words is a new experience. You’re far more used to exasperation and frustration where he’s concerned.

But now, you can’t help the infectious smiles of the children and the determination in their face to do well enough for everyone to be proud of. Maybe Gojo isn’t so bad after all, you think, as he bids the children in the class farewell and tells them to go and join everyone else outside in preparation for the day’s events.

“What d’you think?” He asks you, as Junpei leaves the room, still dragging his feet a little. You can’t blame him. He’s involved in the cheering section, as so many of the less athletic kids are, but the undokai is not optional and you think that Junpei is the kind of boy who hates being looked at. “Are we gonna win?”

“I don’t think that’s quite the point of the exercise,” you say, eventually. “We’re supposed to be fostering team spirit and co-operation--”

“Yeah,” Gojo wrinkles his nose and grins. “But we’re still gonna win, right?”

You sigh.

“With Yuji and Maki? Probably. But that’s not the point!”

Gojo stands up and stretches his arms out above him. He’s in a shirt that clings tight to a surprisingly muscled abdomen,  and dark grey sweatpants. He’s never been the ‘formal wear’ kind of teacher, but it’s still jarring to see him dressed so casually – and even more jarring to realise that he’s handsome, despite the fact you’ve spent most of the last few months rolling your eyes and sighing and cursing the world that you’ve ended up having to endure Satoru Gojo so much.

“I know, I know – but it’s nice to think about, right?” His grin is infectious. “Did you have time to have breakfast this morning? I know it’s an earlier start than usual, I’ve got a spare blueberry muffin in my bag – hope it didn’t get crushed too badly by my stretches--”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, already dreading the idea of him pressing a crumbled muffin into your hand. “I had a healthy, nutritious breakfast.”

“So did I!” He says, hotly. “The blueberry muffin had fruit in it, croissants are glazed with egg so that’s protein, and I had a slice of honey on toast too just because I felt like I’d have to keep my energy up today--”

You are constantly impressed by how he manages to consume all of this sugar without going into overdrive – then again, maybe that does explain a lot about him.

“I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing today,” you admit to him. “I mean, I know I’m here to cheer on the kids and stuff, but I don’t know what my role’s supposed to be--”

“Oh!” He comes around and begins to walk out of the classroom, beckoning you to follow him. “Didn’t I tell you? They told me ages ago--” He did not tell you. You don’t know why you find this a surprise. “You’re gonna be in charge of the refreshments table for the first half of the morning – Yuta, you know, the other teacher’s aid, he’ll relieve you for the second half so you can cheer us on and help me a bit. Not that I’ll need it! It’s not a hard job, just be polite to anyone who needs to use it, most of ‘em bring their own lunches and snacks but we find that it’s always good to have a table with some extras – especially when it’s so hot outside!”

“You didn’t,” you say, but you follow him anyway. You have learnt by now that the most you’ll get from Gojo is a shrug and an airy ‘sorry’. And you suppose, in the grand scheme of things, this isn’t so bad. It’s not like you needed to have time to stop and prepare yourself to give people a polite smile and ask them if they’d like you to pour them a glass of water.

The two of you spill out into the grounds of the school, which is already full of excited students and proud parents. You recognise a few of them – your face heats up as you see Nanami forcibly pressing a bottle of sunscreen into Yuji’s hands, and as the two of you walk past Geto who is tying back Mimiko and Nanako’s hair, ensuring the team hats that the students are all wearing sit neatly on their heads.

There’s a man stood with Maki and Mai who you assume is their father; a blond with a sneering face and a presence that makes you feel like you shouldn’t even be looking at him. Maki has her arms crossed, her chin jutting forward – the two of them are clearly involved in some kind of argument. Even as you watch, some other men are walking towards him with their heads bowed, like he’s something special.

You vaguely recall that you’ve heard some tell about the Zenins being a very rich, very old, very respected family. Judging from the way he carries himself and the way people keep looking at him, you think that must be it.

“Is that Maki and Mai’s dad?” You ask, curiously, as you’re pushed past him towards a collection of tables beneath a bright yellow awning. Gojo makes a noise that sounds like a sigh.

“Yep,” he says, sounding short. There’s some kind of history there, you think. “That’s Naoya Zenin. Better for you to avoid him, if you can – he’s not the kind of guy you want to cross, y’know?”

“But Maki’s--”

“Absolutely nothing like him,” Gojo deposits you in front of a table heaped with water jugs, ice cubes and plastic cups. “Really.”

You wrinkle your nose as you look around. At least everyone else seems happy – excited, buzzing with energy and the promise of an exciting day ahead. You can’t help but worry about Maki’s expression, though. She had looked like her and her father were having an argument that had been going on for months--

Gojo waves at you as he jogs across the field, moving surprisingly quickly for a man who ate nothing but sugar for his breakfast. You watch him go, unable to stop a smile forming on your face as he pauses by Maki and Mai. He slaps a hand onto Maki’s shoulder and says something with a bright grin that she seems to respond to with a smile, turning to follow him. Her father’s eyes narrow, as he spits something that even you can work out is venomous at the retreating backs of one of his daughters. He sighs as he says something else to Mai, a smile almost tugging at the corners of his mouth as his attention shifts back to her.

It’s clear who the golden child is there, then.

You try and shake your thoughts away from Naoya Zenin and his two girls and concentrate on the place that you’ve been given, reminding yourself that even if it doesn’t seem like a big role, you all have to work hard to make sure that today is a success. Your students have been practising and getting excited for this event for weeks, and you want all of the parents to be as proud of their students as you are.

You have a good view from the refreshments table of everything that’s going on. You watch a few of the races, a few cheering displays from the other classes to the beat of the drums – and when kids run up to you, sweaty and panting, you hand them a plastic cup full of cool water and they thank you as if you harvested it from a spring yourself instead of merely pouring it out.

Some parents ask you politely who you are, and you tell them with a smile and a bright look, hoping that you being friendly and polite will get back to other people. A few of them exchange looks when they hear that you’re attached to Gojo’s class; the man has a reputation that follows him everywhere. You give out oranges and other pieces of fruit to some of the students who need an extra sugar boost, or the ones who have a bandage wrapped around their knee or grazes from falls that have recently been cleaned. Shoko is busy today, and you often see her direct these injured children to you as a rest stop, and so their parents can find them easily.

You pause for a moment as the names are called for a relay race, and you hear Maki and Mai being summoned. This is the first race that they’re taking part in – if their team wins this one, they’ll qualify for the final this afternoon. You can see Gojo lifting his arms and hollering and hear his loud, excited voice even with all of the other people crowding into the school grounds to watch, and despite yourself you feel a smile spread over your face.

You’re still smiling when you hear a scoff.

You turn around to see what the fuss is – only to see Naoya Zenin, holding a plastic cup of water as if it’s offended him mortally. Seeing you looking at him, his lip curls.

“Is this tap water?” He asks you. He has a curious accent; slow, drawling, and clearly much superior to your own. It’s not an accent that Maki and Mai have inherited – and as he raises one eyebrow, the sun catching the rings in his ears, you find yourself glad of it. “Well?”

“I think so,” you say. You are on edge. He peers into it, and sighs.

“Don’t you have anything better? Cell-gen or Tennensui or even I LOHAS, at least?” He speaks to you slowly, like you’re a child, or as if he’s not sure whether a peasant like you would even know the names of any bottled water brands. You can’t stand being talked down to, and you curl your hand into a fist as you say, trying to keep yourself polite;

“I’m sorry, Sir. There’s just this.”

“You’d think with the money pumped in-- fine.” He sighs, taking a sip of the water, his face scrunching in displeasure at – you don’t know. The disgusting taste of tap water, you suppose. You try not to look at the bob of his throat as he swallows. Everything about this man seems to be unpleasant except the way he looks.

You take your own cup of water, just to quell some of the dryness that has made itself known in your throat at interacting with him.

The cheering gets a little quieter, and you turn to see what’s happened. As it turns out, all that’s actually happened is Gojo has stopped putting forth his own shouts to the fray, his eyes focussed on you and Naoya, a look that you think is almost sympathy spread across his face. You see that the race is about to begin, and you don’t look at Naoya as you say;

“You’re Maki and Mai’s father, aren’t you? Their first race is about to start. Maki’s been training really hard, I think she’ll pip it for us—”

A dark presence at your shoulder, and a sneering, uppity drawl.

“I gather you’re the teaching aid I’ve been hearing so much about from everyone.” he says. It does not sound like a compliment. “Maki has really found you . . . encouraging.” He says it like it’s a dirty word.

You force yourself to remain cheerful, and not ask him what the fuck his problem is.

“Maki’s really talented,” you say. “Mai’s fast, too – they’re both really good representatives for the class--”

Naoya snorts.

“They should be on the sidelines,” he says, coolly. “Supporting the men. Not running. Not getting all sweaty and hot and messing up their hair and their pretty faces.” He shakes his head. “It’s unwomanly, and if Maki listened to a word I’d said, she wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Mai is doing it too,” you point out, hating yourself for getting involved in this. But you just can’t let him stand there and be such an asshole, spewing his narrow-minded ideas when there are impressionable girls around.

“Mai’s already agreed that if they win this race, she’ll ask one of the boys to switch in for her. I’ve sorted it with the principal. It’s not ladylike for her to do any more than she has to. She’s not going to get a husband in good standing based on her athletic prowess--”

Oh, this is too far. You’re seething, though you’re trying to keep your respectable face on. You’re at work, you’re at work, you’re at work--

“Perhaps there are some other things they consider more important than finding a husband, at the age of twelve?”

Naoya’s laugh is nasty, mocking – and you hate that there’s something in it that sends a curl of heat right through you, blooming between your thighs.

“The younger a girl learns her place,” he says, his voice very slow. “The better it is and easier it is for a man to be assured she’ll do her duties. I don’t see a ring on your finger, Miss – I’d hate for them to end up working some dead-end little job just because they don’t have anyone to cook and clean for--”

Nope.

You can’t take it any longer.

You turn and you throw the cup of ‘shitty tap water’ in your hand right over Naoya Zenin’s stupid, smug, asshole face.

2.

Gojo, for what you think must be one of the first time in his life, looks uncomfortable.

“I didn’t know you were going to throw water on him,” he tries to say, weakly. “Look, we all hate him, but . . . ugh. This is so frustrating! I hate all of this bureaucracy bullshit--”

It turns out that Naoya Zenin’s family – and Naoya Zenin himself – donate rather a lot of money to the school for such functions as the one you’re all currently attending. It turns out that nobody wants to piss off the bank-roll that’s keeping their gym maintained, their events fancy and expensive, the library well-stocked – and you get that! You really do! You know that school budgets are overstretched already, and that donors like the Zenin family are something to be gently courted and kept around for as long as humanly possible.

You just wish that the big donor for this school was anybody else.

“I didn’t know all of this,” you say, reasonably. “I know I shouldn’t have thrown a drink over him, but Mr. Gojo--”

“How many times? You can call me Satoru.”

“If you’d heard the way he was talking--”

“Oh, believe me,” Gojo’s full lips press into a thin line. “I know exactly what Naoya Zenin’s modus operandi is. Let me guess: he was all on at you about how Maki’s not a proper young lady, how the boys should be doing the hard work, how he’s trying to make sure his daughters get a proper start and a rich husband – ugh.” Gojo tugs at his shirt, clearly frustrated. “I’ve had it way too much.”

“Yeah,” you say. You find yourself sighing too.

“The Vice Principal’s in his back pocket,” Gojo says, taking a seat on top of the desk that you’re currently sat behind, cooling off some of your anger – Principal Masamichi had sent you inside to calm you down, and Naoya himself had been escorted into the building by Vice Principal Gakuganji to dry off, all the while saying placating things to calm down the school’s meal ticket. “They want you to apologise to him.”

“I suppose I should,” you say miserably. “But it’s gonna feel like swallowing gravel.”

“I certainly don’t blame you,” Gojo says, with a smile, trying to cheer you up. “Hell, I know some of the other staff members have been dying to do it--”

“Ugh,” you bury your face in your hands. “This is a horrible impression in front of the whole school.”

He pats you gently on the shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, “when this is all over, I’ll take you out for ice cream. I know the best places in the city, and they all know me too!”

You summon a smile for him. He’s not so bad, really – sure, he’s chaotic and thinks too highly of himself for his own good, but . . . at least he’s nothing like Naoya. You stand up and pull down your shorts, wriggling your tank top down to cover you as much as you possibly can. You feel a bit exposed, not in heels and stockings and a blouse.

“I should get this over with, then.”

Gojo has too much to do back on the field to escort you to Naoya himself, so he tells you that Naoya’s in the Vice Principal’s office and gives you another friendly squeeze on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he tells you. “Remember: ice cream at the end of this!”

“Ice cream at the end of this,” you repeat, as you watch him jog out of the corridor. You’re almost tempted to tell him off for running in the halls – Gojo moves so fast that sometimes you lose track of him entirely – but you push back the urge. Gojo is being decent today. You’re thankful to him for sitting with you and helping you calm – and also, evidently, for being one of the things that keeps Maki’s fighting spirit inflamed.

You stand there for a moment, in front of the door to the office, balling up your courage tight and hot in your stomach. You do not want to have to apologise to Naoya, but you know it’s for the best. The sooner you can put this sorry incident behind you and try and avoid Naoya at every single function from herein, the better – so you tap hard on the door and wait until you hear his slow, drawling voice.

“You can come in.”

At first, you’re surprised to see that he’s alone in there – sitting in front of the desk in a comfortable chair, clearly at ease with everything. His arms are sprawled over the back of it, his legs wide apart. You chastise yourself for thinking it immediately – of course the vice principal is busy right now, of course he trusts someone as well-known to the school as Naoya to be alone in his office.

It’s hard not to think about every other time you’ve found yourself alone with the parents of your students, though. A heat crawls onto your face at the very thought of it. You find Naoya repellent, disgusting – but then again, he’s also (and you’re not being glib about it) handsome. You’d be lying if you’d said you sometimes hadn’t ignored a man’s personality for a night in favour of a face and a body that had drawn you in.

Not now.

You close the door behind you, clasping your hands together so you don’t clench your fists, and bow your head so that Naoya can’t tell that you’re grinding your teeth.

“I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me, Sir,” you say, though it really does feel like you are gnashing ice to get the words out. “I should have been more polite. I can assure you it won’t happen again.”

“Mmm,” Naoya says, and you peek up at him through your lashes to see that he’s clearly enjoying having you at his mercy, his lips tilted into a smirk. His hair is still a little wet at the ends, but all that you throwing the water over him seems to have actually done is made his shirt cling tight to a surprisingly chiselled chest and stomach. Asshole. Fuck him. “Yes. I should hope not.”

You straighten yourself up, still a little stiff.

“I hope you can forgive me,” you say. “I . . . I am still learning my place in the establishment.”

He laughs, low and soft.

“Your place?” He asks, the words dangerously sweet on his tongue. “Yes. I can see you still need some help on that one.”

His eyes crawl over you slowly, dragging up and down the length of you, lingering over where your shorts cling to your hips and the tank top hugs your chest. You resist the urge to shift – you don’t want to let him know that he’s making you uncomfortable. You know, though, that he can sense that you have gone hot and prickly all over. He has that smug air; the one men who know what they do to people always seem to have cultivated. The knowledge that they are good-looking.

You suppose for Naoya, it’s the heady combination of knowing he is good-looking and powerful and rich, and you breathe through the force of all of his attention concentrated on you.

“Seeing as you’re still . . . new to all of this,” he says, bringing an arm forward to tap his long fingers on the desk. “And you did apologise prettily, I suppose I can forgive this transgression – just this once, darling.”

The pet name crawls up your spine like ice. He’s still staring at you, enjoying the view like you’re a piece of meat on a market stall he’s considering purchasing.

“Th-thank you, Sir,” you say, hating yourself a little bit but hating him all the more.

“You know,” he says. “You’re not exactly bad-looking.” He stands, rising to his full height, stretching out, frustratingly comfortable in this environment when you feel like a deer who’s about to turn tail and flee at any moment. “You’d be much better off at home raising children than here.” He wrinkles his nose. “Working for a living.” The way that he says the words makes it clear that he considers this a task far beneath the likes of him.

He’s moving towards you now, and your breath seems to get stuck in your throat as he’s suddenly in front of you, stalking elegantly. You want to snap back something about how you’d rather work for a living than have to rely on the whims of a man, much less a man like him – but as he grabs your chin to tilt it up to the light, you find that the words seem to die in your throat.

“Hmm,” he says. “Not bad at all.” He makes an approving noise that sends a flutter right through you, making you dully aware of a pounding ache between your thighs. He leans a little further in, until he’s so close that you can see the pale colours dancing in his eyes, the way the light hits his high cheekbones. “You’re trembling with rage, you know. It’s adorable.”

“You’re very easy to be angry at,” you half-breathe, half-hiss, and Naoya’s smirk is going to be burnt into your memory forever and ever.

“If you’re so angry,” he murmurs, “I can certainly think of a way I wouldn’t mind helping you work out your aggression.”

You shouldn’t do it. But your heart is beating a frantic rhythm against your ribcage and your breath is short, and part of you wants to wrestle him to the ground and dominate him so that he can have a taste of his own medicine. You grab a handful of his hair and drag him down into a bruising kiss.

3.

Oh, and he kisses back. His mouth is soft against yours, but the kiss itself is rough – both of your tongues fighting for dominance, both of you trying to nip at one another’s bottom lip and seize the victory. You’re practically shoved backwards so that your ass catches the edge of the Vice Principal’s desk, even as you tug hard on Naoya’s hair to tell him that you’re not going to be overpowered by him so easily. You feel the feral curve of his grin as he pulls back just enough to whisper;

“Oh? You really think you’re going to get the better of me? You’re cute--” and then you push his shoulders hard, and he stumbles and falls back onto the chair he started this whole escapade sat in. You reach down to tug off your shirt, dropping it onto the floor beside you – Naoya looks for a moment like he’s going to stand back up and resume trying to wrest back the situation into his favour, but as he sees the slight bounce of your breasts in your bra he seems to decide it would be more interesting and beneficial for him to stay exactly where he is and watch you disrobe.

So you do, wriggling your shorts down past your hips – he lets out a low groan at that, as you stand before him in nothing but your underwear with your fists clenched on your hips.

You feel surprisingly powerful like this. It definitely makes a difference from all of the other ways you’ve felt when you’ve been alone with somebody’s father--

“Take off your shirt,” you tell him, and you’re almost surprised at the imperious tone in your own voice. “It’s your turn--”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but he does as you ask. Long fingers curling around the hem of his shirt, taking his sweet time pulling it off his body – and yes, it’s a nice one. Nice, too, are his thighs as he undoes his trousers that probably cost more than you make in a year and pushes them down, sitting before you in nothing but his equally as expensive-looking underwear – an impressive looking bulge outline pressed against the fabric. Even as he looks at you, he takes hold of himself through it and squeezes it, his grin crooked.

Your body does a throb of need.

“Oh,” you say, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realise you were so needy already--”

“Like you’re not dripping,” he says sharply, his eyes zeroing in on the space between your thighs. “Don’t flatter yourself. I can see the damp patch from here.”

“Who’s to say that’s for you?” You walk towards him. You can’t help but feel powerful and in control at how his eyes follow you with rapt attention, how his tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he drinks in your form in front of him.

“Please,” he says. “As if there’s anyone here more deserving.”

He reaches forward and his hands settle on your hips, dragging you closer to him – hot fingertips brushing your waist, the bare skin beneath your bra before he’s unclipping that too and your breasts are bare. He breathes in deeply.

“Pity,” he says, though his voice is thick with his own arousal. “You’re such a cute little thing, if only you didn’t open your mouth--”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me opening my mouth to do something else,” you breathe, and you reach down to ghost your fingers over his cock through the tent in his underwear. He hisses through his teeth, his eyes half-lidded.

“Don’t just say it, princess,” he says. “If you’re going to run your mouth, the least you could do is make it do something useful--”

“I’d rather die than get on my knees for you.” Your mouth is very close to his neck – to punctuate the statement, you give his earlobe a tug with your teeth, and he practically groans. You’re almost straddling him on the chair, and you do not miss, either, the twitch that his cock seems to give at the tug.

It seems like for somebody who really wants to be in control, and wants women to know their place so badly, Naoya actually is rather enjoying somebody giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs your underwear and pulls it down, clicking his tongue as it bunches about your knees.

“Just give into what your body wants,” he says, all saccharine sweetness in that slow, deep voice. “You’ve made a mess.”

You know you have. You can feel slick when your thighs press too close together, hot and wet between your legs. You really are practically dripping. But it’s not just from Naoya, you don’t think – it’s from the sudden power you’re feeling, the rush of being an equal participant in everything, in feeling like you have the upper hand. And not a small part, you think, is because of the adrenaline that’s coursing through your veins at the thought of putting Naoya Zenin in his place. You tip your head to the side innocently.

“What about you?” You ask, with a mean shade to the pitch of your voice. “You’re so hard it’s a wonder you’re not in pain--”

He grabs a hank of your hair with one hand whilst spreading your legs further with the other, so strong that the breath’s knocked out of you. The tip of his finger skims the outer lips of your sex, gathering your slick arousal on the pad as he growls;

“I’m still a man, darling. I see a pretty cunt to fuck and a pair of nice tits and I want to bury myself into it until the bitch remembers her place--”

“Good luck,” you breathe. “I think you’ll be the one remembering his place, here.”

He laughs breathlessly.

“Oh,” he purrs. “You’re going to be singing a different song when you’re begging me to fuck you harder.”

You give him a smile with your teeth bared; the challenge is obvious. It’s a smile that says ‘we’ll see’, even as you both tug at his underwear to pull it down and reveal what he’s been hiding beneath it.

You don’t want to admit that he’s got a pretty cock, but he has. He’s not the biggest you’ve seen, but it’s still impressive; a slight curve giving it an elegant angle that you realise with a clench will hit you exactly in the right spot when you take it inside of you.

He’s slick with his own pre-come, bubbling from the reddened slit – and as you shift forward and trap it between your thighs, he groans aloud again.

“That’s right,” he grunts, as the tip catches on your entrance and you begin to sink down upon it. “This is what you were made for, princess--”

“What?” You pant. “That would be disappointing. You barely fill me up--”

He grabs you and pulls you into another kiss as you finish off sheathing his cock inside of you – perhaps to save his pride, perhaps to muffle the noise that comes out of him, transferred into your mouth instead of his own. Whichever it is, you hate that you were right about the angle of his cock – you can feel it pressing snugly against the spongy G-spot even now, threatening you with a better time than you’d like to have.

You break the kiss to pull yourself off of him and sink back down, forcibly taking the lead and setting your own pace. You know it’s fast, you know it’s greedy – but fuck, if you aren’t boiling over with need.

You splay your hands across his shoulders, nails digging into his skin with little care to how you might mark him. You need him for leverage, as you continue to bounce up and down on his cock. Naoya tips his head back and groans, enjoying the feeling, before he remembers that you two are engaged in a battle of wits and attempts to get the better of you once more.

“I-is that,” he groans, coming to cling onto your waist and force you down on him with even more strength, helping you along in the too-fast rhythm of your thrusts and bounces. “The best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” you say breathlessly, as his cock continues to stroke that spot. You can hear the sounds of him sliding in and out of you, shamefully loud – too, you can hear the sounds of your skin slapping against one another, echoing and mixing with the breathless pants and the attempts to trade barbed insults. “Y-you’re making me do all the work?”

“Fucking pity you’ve got such a nice cunt,” Naoya snarls, his hips flexing, somehow managing to hit you deeper even as you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet and straddling him on the chair. His words are starting to sound very far away. “You should be in my fucking bed, keeping it warm, better off than wasting away here--”

Both of you are running your mouths, overwhelmed by how close one another’s bodies are and the intense heat radiating from you. There’s a frisson of electricity in the air, showering sparks, as the two of you continue to snatch words in between moans and groans and pants and whimpers--

“You’re pathetic--”

“You’re so fucking tight, I shouldn’t be surprised when you’re such a bitch--”

“F-fuck, harder, c-can’t you even keep the momentum going? You’re weak--”

“Baby girl, you’re fucking shaking – you gonna come first? Women are so predictable--”

You can feel your release hovering on the edge of your vision, blurring it as your eyes squeeze shut and you feel tears threatening to roll down your cheeks. There’s a heat inside of you that’s close to overspilling – and as you come down on him particularly hard, the head of his cock rolls over your g-spot just right, and you feel a dam inside of you break as your nails dig hard enough into his shoulders to draw blood. You bury your face into his neck so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry out his name, teeth worrying into his neck to leave a love-bite reminder of exactly what transpired between you two in the Vice Principal’s office.

You feel yourself twitch and tighten around him as your orgasm rocks your body, heat running through you like veins of marble. You can’t breathe – all you can do is bite, your hips chasing the final aftershocks.

Naoya is still hard inside of you as you lift yourself off him, letting his cock slip out of you as easily as butter. His own hands clench around your hips.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asks, his voice rough and hungry. Despite that, though, you can hear the thread of some other emotion sewn in to them – and with a shiver of delight, you realise it’s neediness. He’s been left wanting, and you’ve been handed all of the cards. “I haven’t finished.”

“And you won’t finish inside me,” you snap at him, enjoying the longing in his voice. “Ask me very nicely and I’ll finish you off with my hand.”

“Mouth,” he demands – and he grabs your cheeks, squishing them, pulling you down and reminding you of all of the power that he has even though it’s your body that’s got the advantage of the high ground. “You don’t really think I’m going to be satisfied with your hand, princess--”

“You don’t deserve it,” you spit at him, but you sink to your knees anyway.

You’re not entirely lacking in manners. You suppose you did get to come. It would be rude to just leave him like this. Especially when the whole reason you’d ended up in this office in the first place was to apologise to him politely.

“This is the perfect position for you,” he sneers, as you open your mouth and envelope the head of his cock within it. You can taste yourself on his shaft. “Fuck, that’s right – put your mouth to good use for once--”

You give him a mean, slow lick along the slit of his cock head that makes him groan in the back of his throat. He wraps his hand around the back of your neck, fingers digging into the nape so he can control you at least a little bit, pushing you a touch too far so you almost choke. You pull off it, drooling.

“Choke me again and I’ll bite,” you snarl, and he pats your cheek like you’re an obedient dog.

“You wouldn’t dare,” he says – and you narrow your eyes at him in a way that says ‘try me’ before you return to sucking at him, hollowing your cheeks. You want to do a good job. A part of you wants to make him come so hard that he regrets being an asshole to you, even though you know that’s ridiculous and not going to happen.

Still. You’re not going to back down from a challenge, so you use your tongue to play along as much of his cock as you can.

“Fuck,” Naoya breathes. “Good . . . good fuckin’ girl—”

You’ve been hearing that low, polite drawl swear and curse for what seems like hours, but that one sends another pulse of heat through you – at your heart, you can’t argue that you love being praised. You whimper against his cock, glad that the fast pace you’ve managed to establish and the wet noises of your mouth around him muffle the noise so Naoya can’t dangle it over your head.

The hand on the nape of your neck jerks, so that you’re forced to look up at him and meet his eyes proper. His hips are slamming to meet your bobs now, the noise of him fucking your mouth filling the room. His teeth dig into his bottom lip and you feel him twitch, his voice pitching--

Salt coats your tongue as he fills your mouth.

But he doesn’t let himself finish there.

He pulls out, and he pumps his cock himself two, three times – coaxing out the other ropes of come, that hit your neck and chest and breasts hot and white and glistening. You’re too surprised by it to do anything – you’d expected him to keep your mouth on him, make you swallow down everything he gave you. He seems the kind of guy who gets off on that sort of thing--

But instead, he’s sighing, relaxing back into the chair as he looks at you with lazy eyes.

“You look cute like that,” he says, his voice low and sated. “I should take a picture.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe, getting off your knees. You are so fucking thankful for the box of tissues on the Vice Principal’s desk, as you reach across and grab some to dab at yourself so you’re not sticky and disgusting for any longer than necessary.

If you leave them in his pedal waste-bin, you hope that the cleaning crew will dispose of them before the Vice Principal is even aware that they’re there. Your lip curls as you wipe your mouth. You wish you had a mint – or at least a glass of water. Even tap water would do.

For what it’s worth, Naoya seems a little agitated as he puts himself to rights too. Evidently he was not expecting you to fight back so much – he places a finger on his shoulders and scowls when he sees that you made him bleed.

“I should sue you for assault,” he says. You tap your own body, at the curve of your hips and waist.

“I’m going to bruise,” you tell him. “So I guess it would be self-defence.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” he tells you, with narrowed eyes – and you give him another smile, one that is clearly fake, as you pull your tank top and shorts back on and re-tie your shoes.

You’re surprised as you go to leave the room and he sets a hand on the small of your back in a mocking echo of polite manners. As the two of you walk down the corridor towards the exit, he does not remove it. To the assembled crowds, you hope it will look entirely innocent – like the two of you have merely had a little chat and come to an agreement instead of heatedly fucking one another’s brains out.

You blink as you emerge out into the light, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. You see Principal Masamichi give you a sympathetic smile – and there’s Gojo, immediately charging towards you like an overprotective bear. He slows down as he sees the way that Naoya is still touching you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” he says, sounding stiffer and more formal than you usually hear. Naoya’s smile towards him is cold.

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “Perfect. You apologised beautifully, didn’t you, Miss?” Naoya looks down his nose at you, a conceited smile on his mouth. “I’ve decided to overlook this little transgression.” He leaves a pause, and you swallow as you realise what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you so much, Mr Zenin, Sir,” you say. Again, it feels like you have to force the words out through a mouthful of marbles – but they make it out of your mouth.

“Oh, don’t be so formal, Miss,” he smirks. “You can call me Naoya. I look forward to seeing you again – soon, I hope.”

“You’re just in time,” Gojo says coldly. “Maki just won the final race of the day for our team.”

Naoya’s gaze is sharp as he looks at him. His lip curls. You can tell that both of them want to do something – maybe have an out-and-out fist fight on the field. But Naoya manages to get a grip (you’re glad about it; you’re not entirely sure whether Gojo would have been able to hold back) and turns on his heel to stalk away.

He does give your ass one last squeeze, though, that you desperately hope that Gojo doesn’t notice.

Gojo’s shoulders stay set, his chin thrust proudly forward, until Naoya has been swallowed up by the crowd at large – and then, he turns to you. For the first time, you see his normally humorous eyebrows draw in with worry.

“You look upset,” he says. “Sweaty. You smell terrible. Do you need a minute?”

Your shoulders fall. Gojo gives you a sympathetic pat on the back.

“It’s a rite of passage to deal with someone from the Zenin family,” he says. “You’re just unlucky it happened to actually be Naoya today. He usually sends an underling or an uncle or someone to pretend to care about the girls.”

Wow. You sure hope the rite of passage has gone differently for everyone else.

“Why d’you think he came here today, then?” You ask Gojo. He looks at you strangely, a spark of something you can’t quite read in his eyes.

“Well,” he says, “he’s related to the Fushiguros, you know. I heard he and Megumi’s father have met up recently for drinks – it ended in a fight, of course, it always does. But maybe he expected Megumi’s dad to be here too?” He shrugs. “He can never resist an opportunity to relish over someone in his family winning, even if he doesn’t want Maki doing anything unladylike. Megumi’s dad isn’t here, though, so looks like that backfired on him--”

Your face feels like it’s on fire as you think about Megumi’s father fucking you on Gojo’s desk – and the lingering way that Naoya had said that he’d heard so much about you from everyone.

[morganofthewildfire]

Someday

A Rowaelin oneshot based on the prompt: skinny dipping

—————————————————————————-

Rowan Whitethorn knew his wife was hesitant. He knew she was nervous about their beach trip, for a few different reasons.

It was their first trip away from Eliott, even though they had no need to worry because she was safe with her godparents, Aedion and Lysandra. And he knew Aelin knew that, and though she had been fretting about that, cooing to their newborn daughter as they left, he also knew that that wasn’t what was pressing on her mind now.

That wasn’t what was making her so self conscious. It was the fact that she had just had the baby, only a few months before, and she was insistent on the fact that she wasn’t beautiful anymore. No matter how ridiculous that was.

She would always be beautiful, especially now that she was the mother of his child. She’d become radiant. It was such a joy to watch her with their daughter, to watch her face light up whenever Eliott smiled, to watch her softly rock her to sleep, singing to her to calm her down, not even a care in the world about if she sounded good or not.

Rowan just loved her so godsdamned much, a little extra weight after giving birth meant absolutely nothing to him. He just wished it was the same for her.

“Why didn’t we go somewhere cold?” Aelin complained, tucking her chin into her shoulder as they walked out of their private villa. “Somewhere where I can wear lots and lots of clothes.” Rowan just snorted.

“You would be miserable and grousing to me about it.” He smiled at her, and she scowled. He shifted their chairs and umbrella to carry them in one hand, grabbing her hand with his other, gently pulling it away from where it was covering her stomach over her sundress. “Just relax, Aelin. It’s just us here anyway,”

It was true. The perks of being married to an heiress.

His wife stuck her tongue out at him before turning back toward the water to continue their walk down to the beach. They had a nice open air patio up by their house, but they both wanted to be closer to the waves.

They stayed in a comfortable silence the rest of the way down, but she squeezed his hand tightly as they went. And Rowan was the one to set up their little arrangement as Aelin put on sunscreen, only on her arms and legs though, avoiding taking off her cover up.

He sighed, pulling off his shirt and applying sunscreen himself, taking the bottle from her before sitting down. “You’re going to get weird tan lines, love,” he said, chuckling when she hesitated. He knew that would sway her.

“How do you expect me to strip to my bathing suit when you look like a godsdamned Greek god?” She complained, crossing her arms as she sat down. “I refuse.”

Rowan just huffed, shaking his head. “Do what you want I guess, although I don’t understand how you could ever think you look anything less than perfect.”

She just shook her head too, putting her sunglasses and hat on and leaning back as far as she could in her chair. “You can’t convince me, Rowan. You’d be better off saving your energy.”

“For what?” He raised a brow and smirked. “A little sex on the beach perhaps?” A pleased expression formed on his face at the blush that rose on her cheeks. They hadn’t had sex since early in her pregnancy, the strain on her body too much since then. But it had finally been long enough, according to her doctor, that they could attempt trying something again.

Maybe that would persuade her to feel more comfortable.

“I’m not having sex on this sand,” she said haughtily, “that would get everywhere. Besides, we have a perfectly good bed inside.”

“Well that would still require you taking off your dress,” he pointed out. Aelin just smirked, mocking him.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to take care of that yourself.” She slid her sunglasses down, giving a pointed look down to his bathing suit bottoms.

“Aelin -“

“Ah,” she raised a hand, “just stop. It won’t work. Let me sulk in peace.” She leaned back again, soaking in the sun.

“Whatever you say, love.”

——

Imagine his surprise when he got out of the shower later to find the love of his life crying on their bed. He rushed to her, still in his towel, and crouched in front of her, where she was perched on the edge.

She’d finally taken off her cover up, likely preparing to go shower after him, revealing her bathing suit.

Aelin was wearing a creamy white one piece, the color contrasting gorgeously with her lightly tanned skin. It was cut fairly conservatively in the front, only showing off a bit of cleavage, while plunging lower in the back.

She looked absolutely stunning.

But it seemed she didn’t think so.

“Aelin,” Rowan said softly, grabbing her hand. But it didn’t seem to reach her in her distress.

“Why do I look like this Rowan?” She cried. “I look at my body and I don’t even recognize it!” She clutched at him like he was her lifeline. “I absolutely adore Eliott, and I never would wish that we never had her, but I also can’t help but wish for my old self back. I hate all this extra weight on my body, I hate that I don’t look as good as I used to, I hate that I don’t look good enough for you anymore! You say I still look beautiful but I know that can’t be true.”

“Aelin,” he repeated, and she finally took a breath, looking at him with watery eyes. The devastated and vulnerable expression on her face was heartbreaking. “I know this is hard. I know this is a whole separate challenge that I can’t relate to. But think about Eliott huh? You said you could never regret having her, right?” She nodded hesitantly. “Then focus on that piece of joy, on that miracle.”

It had been a miracle, after several failed months and lost pregnancies, it had been a wondrous present when they finally got this chance.

“And it won’t be this way forever,” he soothed, running a hand up and down her thigh. “But if it is, then you can be assured that you are still the most beautiful woman in existence, the most wonderful and stunning and the only one for me. My soulmate.” She sniffled. “And because of all of that, hell, regardless of all of that, I don’t care about a little bit of extra weight. Not at all.”

She was crying again, but it wasn’t from sadness he knew. But he still helped her to a stand, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before letting go of her hands.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, before darting back to the bathroom and pulling his bathing suit on. When he returned to their bedroom, Aelin was fidgeting on her feet, clutching her stomach again. He just grabbed her hands, leading her toward the porch that led directly out to the beach. “Come on.

“What are we doing?” She asked, her brows furrowed as he led them down the darkened beach.

“Just trust me,” was all Rowan said, smiling at her. When they got closer to the waves, he let go of her hands, immediately reaching for the tie of his bathing suit. She raised her brows, staring at him as he stripped down to nothing.

In front of anyone else he would feel embarrassed, but he never did, never could in front of her.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Rowan Whitethorn?” She teased, smiling at him. He chuckled, but just took a few steps so he was in the warm water.

“Are you going to join me?” He took another step, but shook his head when she started walking in. “Nope. You have to take that off.” He gestured to her bathing suit, and she paused. “No exceptions.”

She huffed, considering, and he thought she was just going to stay on the sand, he really thought. But then her hand went to her strap, peeling it off her body slowly, a bright red flush on her face visible even in the dark.

“Don’t laugh,” she pleaded, and he just shook his head.

“Never.”

Soon enough, she was as naked as him, hands going back around her bare stomach, as if she could block it from his view. Rowan just held out his hand, waiting for her as she awkwardly clambered into the water, grabbing him when she almost tripped. He held both her arms and led them further into the waves, so they could both float in the calm water.

But he never let her go, even when they were deeper, his hands sliding down to hold her around her waist. She dropped her head to rest on his shoulder, her legs going around his waist. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back. She chuckled incredulously when she felt him half hard against her.

He couldn’t help it, she was always sexy to him, especially when there were no clothes in the way. Her soft curves, her golden skin, the muscle that was temporarily gone but would soon be back, he was attracted to every single inch of her.

“See?” He teased, “I’m still ridiculously attracted to you.”

Aelin lifted her head to press a deep kiss to his lips, her mouth saying everything she didn’t need to say out loud. He returned the sentiment, clutching her tight to him as they made out in the warm water, one of his hands going up to tangle in her wet golden hair.

Eventually they broke apart and he smiled at her. “Do you want to make baby number two?”

She laughed, the bright sound and the radiant look on her face making his heart swell. “I think we need to wait at least a few more months for that.” She rested her forehead against his.

“But someday?” He asked, and she nodded.

“Someday.”

Taglist:

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[arlertwifey]

snk cast x gn!reader + cute summertime romance

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, PLEASE!

☼ — ft. Eren, Armin, Mikasa, Jean, Levi, Hanji, & Erwin (all characters are 18+)

☼ — genre: pure fluff + gn!reader x character, warnings: mentions of vandalism/petty crime, alcohol mentions 

☼ — a/n: please enjoy my first snk x reader content :)

E R E N

Fills his time with a weird mix of volunteering around the city and committing blatant acts of vandalism

He spends his days helping out at the youth shelter and nights scribbling graffiti anywhere he can find a spot. Takes you to spray-paint every underpass you come across

Unnaturally good at arcade games and wins you lots of little random plushies from the claw machines. Your favorite is an angry-looking brown bear that you can’t help but think resembles him

Loves to stay up late and discover new parts of the city with you. Has a bad habit of falling asleep on your shoulder wherever you are though, when he finally runs out of energy

Even though he tries to play it off like he’s too cool for them, insists that you two take cute photobooth pictures together and keeps his favorite of them in his wallet

A R M I N 

Practically lives at the beach during the summer. The two of you plan out your days there in advance so your able to visit the different tide pools and see various sea creatures.

Has a strong sweet tooth. He’s a huge fan of any type of frozen treat, but is extremely partial to slushies. In at least half the pictures you get of your summertime adventures, his mouth is stained teal from the blue-raspberry flavor he always buys.   

Gets surprisingly tan during the summer, due to the fact that he’s outside whenever possible. Even when studying, he prefers to do so at parks around where he lives rather than indoors. His hair bleaches out a little further as well.

Willing to go to parties with you when the two of you are invited by mutual friends, but tends to slip outside to the porch after the first hour. More often than not, the two of you wind up ditching all together and heading off to find someplace to get late night food. 

He brings you to visit his grandfather during the summertime and the two of you help him out with repairs around the house. Being around the two people he loves the most brings out Armin’s talkative side and the three of you spend your vacation days swapping stories over glasses of iced tea.

M I K A S A 

Busy during the summer, so you can’t meet as much as would like

Part of her gym’s regional kickboxing team and helps teach part time. You go to all her matches and cheer till your voice gives out. She tells you that you don’t have to come, but secretly is so, so grateful that you do

On days when you’re both free, you try out all the best brunch places in the city. Mikasa prefers small family-owned businesses. The two of you quickly become regulars at your favorite spots

Sends you voice messages when you are apart ever since you said that you liked to hear her voice. She’s adorably awkward in them, usually just telling you about whatever she’s doing at the time and how much she misses you

Gets misty-eyed when you show up at the airport with flowers for her when she gets back home. Squeezes you till your out of breath and lifts off the ground a little bit when you hug again after your time apart.

J E A N

The actual best at planning a fun day full of activities

Busts his ass working at a couple part time jobs most days, but makes up for how busy is by making sure you two have the best possible time and do the most when you’re together

The type to have a bucket list for all the different activities he thinks you guys should do together. He puts a lot of effort into creating it with you. The two of you decorate two matching posters so that each of you has a copy. 

A little bit of a sucker for cliches: ice cream dates and visiting waterparks. He’s a romantic at heart and with you he feels like he can finally participate in all the classic lovey-dovey activities couples do.

One of those people who acts like an influencer despite the fact that he’s only followed by family and friends. Takes super high quality pics of you so he can brag about how great his s/o is. Took a few photography classes in college and it shows. Every photo he takes of you looks amazing because you can tell just how enamored he is with you.

King of matching couple fits. Loves when the two of you wear coordinating colors or even just similar accessories.

L E V I 

Not a fan of hot weather, so prefers to hang out in the evenings or early mornings when it’s cooler (which works well with the fact that he has to work most days). 

Has no clue what to do during the summer, besides what you two always do, but does his best

You two go for early morning runs at his suggestion and then get breakfast afterwards. There’s a smoothie place down the block from the park that you frequent, with different local fruit specials each week. 

He brings you to his favorite tea shop and you two slowly drink your way through their summer refresher menu throughout the season. You learn

Is willing to go to the beach, but be prepared to cover the man with sunscreen, because he burns. Since he knows that he won’t encounter anyone from work, he sometimes wears a large sunhat for extra UV protection.

When your vacation time finally lines up, the two of you get out of the city and head to the charming town where his mother lives. You get to help Kuchel in her garden and listen to her stories about adorable young Levi.

While he’s not extremely enthusiastic about summer as a season, he does find it far more enjoyable when he gets to spend it with you

H A N J I

Lives for traveling during the summer months, half for fun and half for their work as part of an anthropological research team. Whenever they can’t bring you along, expect lots of silly, cheesy postcards and many late night phone calls.

Thinks that camping is an absolute must. You two go on hikes together to find the best places to camp. Teaches you all sorts of cool facts about the different areas you are in. Likes when the two of you get “lost” and have to navigate back with a compass (and a park map as backup).

Makes their own homemade juice blends (some better than others) and freezes them into popsicles. Brings you them and other snacks when you’re working.

Stays up late with you and points out different constellations while you drink hot cocoa on the rooftop of their apartment building. While you don’t understand everything they are explaining to you, you love to watch their excited expression and enthusiasm as they tell you all about the world.

E R W I N

Glamorous cultural events are Erwin’s favorite part of the summertime 
Expect to to be brought to opening ceremonies, christenings of cruise ships, and wine tastings

Despite the fancy events, Erwin makes sure you don’t feel too out of place by spending the evenings shit talking the other guests with you, and trying to guess who is sleeping with who and who is going to get drunk and ruin the evening

Insists that you get out of the city as often as possible, so expect a lot of weekend getaways

As much as he likes to do things with you, he can also appreciate an afternoon spent drinking sangria and reading by the poolside (a private pool, of course. He can’t resist asking you to put sunblock on his back (half because he actually needs the help, half just to see you blush at the request).

Owns a sleek vintage convertible that he’s only able to drive in the warmer months. Likes to pick you up from work in it while still dressed in his impeccably sharp suit from the office, just to see the looks on your coworkers faces

[lorei-writes]

HC: Warlords & Summer

Premise: Warlords dealing with heat and other summery struggles. Sponsored by sudden increase in temperatures in Europe :) // Assuming they all get 30+C weather.

Content Warnings: mentions of sunburn

Oda Forces

Nobunaga

Can't deal with heat, pretends he is fine. He is not fine.

May sleep on the balcony.

He works primarly during evenings and at night, as it allows him to focus more easily.

Did not have a heatstroke only due to Hideyoshi's efforts.

Loves all the seasonal fruit.

Modern AU: dresses all in black & would be up to toy water guns fight just about anytime. Loves chocolate ice-cream.

Mitsuhide

Functions primarily at night... Or so it appears, because it's hard to spot him during the day.

Not exactly keen on the fact that he burns and he burns bad. Put him in the sun for a tiny bit too long and those cheeks will stay red for several days - an odd permanent blushy look does not exactly fit a torturer.

Otherwise, he does not feel too uncomfortable.

Modern AU: the one person who always have sunscreen on, even though you'd expect them to forget it.

Hideyoshi

He knows heat can be dangerous. He drinks enough water, dresses appropriately, keeps out of the sun if possible.

He most likely reminds everybody to drink water. To the point of it getting some don't drink just to spite him.

He can cope with it reasonably well, but he absolutely loathes any formal occasions during the summer.

Modern AU: the one person who uses too much sunscreen and is extremely scared of skin cancer. Always has a spare water bottle, in case somebody needed it.

Mitsunari

At first, he did not realise it was summer and instead wondered why his work efficiency dropped.

Takes regular meal brakes, as he is too afraid of spilling water over his reports - and he does need to drink water to be able to work well.

Secretly appreciates Hideyoshi's reminders a lot.

Modern AU: wears sunglasses over his reading glasses, enjoys any breath of cold air - has most likely taken a walk in cool rain just to feel cold for a change.

Ieyasu

He complains only a little bit more.

He groans each time somebody stays in the sun for too long (read: very often).

He stops eating spicy food? The outside world could very well be on fire.

Modern AU: keeps an outside system of dishes for animals to drink water from - he will also fill up any empty bowl left outside for that reason, no matter who set it.

Masamune

He is melting alive. By far, out of all the warlords, he's the worst at coping with heat. Anything above 25C is scalding.

He does not burn too easily. Oddly enough, despite keeping up a daring face, he is very reasonable in regards to taking care of himself.

His scar itches quite often. It just gets sweaty. He hates it.

Modern AU: loves sorbets, especially if they're more so on the sour side. Would probably enjoy holidays somewhere by the water, even (especially) if it was cold.

Uesugi-Takeda Forces + Independent

Kenshin

He doesn’t dislike summer by itself, but he hates getting sunburnt - and it does happen primarily in this hot, unforgiving weather.

He has to abandon his cape for several months each year. Hades and Persephone vibes much?

It is harder to find drinking partners. Soldiers get more tired and are at higher risk of injury too. Summer is taking everything he loves away from him.

Modern AU: the one person who simultaneously loves and hates spending time by lakes and other bodies of water. The cool it provides? Fine. Strangers staring at him whenever he wears swim trunks? Not fine.

Shingen

He doesn’t mind and opts to look for positives to the entire season. He can eat as much fruit as he wants to?

Sweat? Well, he would get sweaty while doing carpentry work just regardless, so why should he care?

He forgets not to stay in the sun for too long.

Overall, he is just happy he is alive and treasures every moment of it. He would definitely love to spend some time in nature, though.

Modern AU: he’d spend as much of the season as possible doing hiking. Another option would be going to the sea and taking strolls on the beach at night.

Yukimura

Likewise to Hideyoshi, he knows all the dangers of overheating and tries to stop people from getting themselves hurt.

However, he does not cope well with heat. He wishes to sleep through the entire days. He is done.

Attempts to fight heat with busying himself with work. It makes it even worse. He still does it to himself each year.

Modern AU: he invested in the AC unit and refuses to bring the temperature even a degree higher than 23C - and that much is already a stretch, he’s just being considerate of the environment.

Sasuke

Oh, his soul hurts. He knows all the modern wonders of AC, fans, readily available ice-cream, oh, he knows. He knows what he has lost.

The only season he regrets going back in time.

He dreams (and plans to) build a solar-energy powered fan. The project is abandoned at the end of each summer, only to be resumed at the beginning of it the following year.

Modern AU: he definitely owned one of those caps with solar-energy powered fan at one point. He probably wore it, because what is fashion?

Kennyo

Well, he lives in a hut in a forest (or he moves there just for the summer). It is considerably colder there.

He is a happy monk. The birds are chirping, the flowers are blooming, vegetables and fruit are fresh - what else could he hope for?

He goes to the spring to collect fresh, cool water. It is refreshing. It never feels just as good as during summer.

He loves the season and he has all the reasons for loving it, okay?

Modern AU: he hates summer in modern times. Why are cities so big? Why so much concrete? Somebody, take him back. Or move him to some remote village or such, he misses his home.

Tag list: @datenoriko, @nad-zeta, @tsubaki3192, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx, @cottonfluffballofdoom, @ozziegrl71, @rikumorimachisgirl, @bestbryn, @kink-rabbithole @cailann @mila-ikigai @nyktoon-in-otomeland @briars7 @mineko811 @fairstival If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, do remember to specify fandoms (and characters, if you are interested only in some) :D If it ever happens that you wish to be removed from my taglist, for any reason, do let me know. I will not ask why, it’s all fine ^^

[nugnthopkns]

if everything could ever feel this real forever

word count: 4.3k

warnings: explicit!fem reader, cursing, alcohol consumption, allusion to sexual content (nothing explicit but minors please be aware!)

recommended listening: everlong | foo fighters

a/n: broke down and wrote for ratty matty. alternalty titled four times matthew thinks you’re the one and one time he knows (4+1′s are fun to write, pls don’t fight me). also pls ignore the fact i don’t know how airports work, i’ve only ever flown domestically lmao

Matthew feels different when you’re around. 

You don’t turn him into a completely different person. He’s still himself – an absolute pest at times – but more genuine. With you he can feel everything deeply, say whatever’s on his mind without the fear of being judged. It’s the best kind of different, and he wouldn’t change it for the world. His teammates constantly ask him when he’s going to lock you down; put a ring on your finger and change your last name, but he needs to be sure before he makes such a big commitment. 

one

It’s the beginning of July, and you’re sweating buckets in the back of an Uber. The driver has the air cranked, but nothing seems to alleviate the heat. You know it will be worse in St. Louis so you do your best not to complain, but it’s hard. Taking two weeks off to visit your boyfriend in his hometown sounded like a great idea, but reading the weather forecast has you re-evaluating the trip. 

Your phone lights up in your lap, and you eagerly unlock it. It’s a text from Matthew. Have a safe flight. Text me when you land. Tayrn will be there to pick you up – Brady and I’s on-ice got extended. I’ll see you when I get home. Love you. 

Though you wish he could be the first person you see when you touch down, you understand that his job comes first. Besides, your re-unification will be more private this way. I get to see the best Tkachuk first, fuck yeah you reply, before following it up with Love you too Matty. See you soon. 

Soon after sending the text you arrive at the entrance of Calgary International Airport. With a polite thank you to your driver, you grab your suitcase and head inside. The working air conditioning answers your silent prayers and you feel your body slowly return to a normal temperature. Check in is fast, and before you know it you’re breezing through security. A slightly nervous traveller, you’re at the gate earlier than you need to be. The plane doesn’t take off for another two hours. You don’t mind the wait, listening to a couple of podcast episodes and grabbing a snack at the lounge before boarding. 

The five hour flight passes in the blink of an eye. St. Louis is busier than Calgary, and it takes you longer than you thought it would to get through customs. Once passed immigration and at the baggage carousel you let Matthew know you’re safely inside the city limits. You grab your obnoxious suitcase – a bright red thing with a giant Flames logo that Matthew thought would be funny to give you – and set out to find Tayrn. She’s easy to spot, waving a giant poster with your name on it. Abandoning nearly all airport etiquette, you rush through the crowd to see her. Over the years she’s become a little sister and close friend, and you really wish you could see her more frequently. 

“Y/N!” Taryn squeals as you wrap your arms around her. The pair of you embrace for another moment or two before making your way to her car. Neither of you can stop talking, so excited to be in each other’s presence.

“It’s so nice to be back,” you sigh. “I really do like St. Louis.” 

Tayrn giggles. “You’re just excited to see Matthew.” 

Though she isn’t wrong, you swat her bicep in faux annoyance. “What? Can a girl not enjoy a nice Midwestern city?” You push your sunglasses up onto the bridge of your nose before continuing. “Besides, I only came here to see you. I see enough of Matt at home.”

She rolls her eyes but extends her arm so you can fist bump her. With a quick look to make sure the way is clear, Taryn exits the parking spot and heads in the direction of your temporary home. The open sunroof allows the wind to whip through your hair and you struggle to tame it enough to put it in a ponytail. One Direction blasts from the stereo, and you join Taryn in screaming the lyrics until your lungs hurt. Being on vacation, even if it’s only to St. Louis, is so freeing. You don’t have to deal with work deadlines or friendship drama. All that matters is spending time with Matthew. 

When you pull into the Tkachuk’s driveway it’s empty. It’s Thursday afternoon; Chantal’s at work, Keith is golfing with friends, and the boys are at the rink. You take a few minutes to unpack, filling Matthew’s drawers with your clothes, before joining Taryn by the pool. St. Louis is just as hot as the city you left, and the travel has left you feeling below average. A quick swim is sure to be the perfect remedy. 

The water is the right kind of cool, and alleviates any stress you were possibly feeling. You’re properly in vacation mode now, lounging on pool floaties and gossiping with Taryn. An hour later when Matthew returns home you’re in basically the same position. Stepping out into the yard he sees you urging Taryn to turn around so you can place sunscreen onto the one spot she missed, laughing all the while at some ridiculous celebrity rumor she’s telling you. Seeing you get along so easy with his sister, and the rest of his family, makes his heart swell.

In the couple of months you’ve been separated, Matthew’s thought a lot about his future. Specifically about his future with you. When he closes his eyes he can see it clearly: the two of you married with children and a dog, living in a house in the mountains and loving life. It’s idyllic, and even though he knows you’d say yes if he asked you, Matthew still can’t bring himself to do it. There’s something in the back of his brain telling him to wait until he knows with absolute certainty that you’re it for him.

Not wanting to be separated from you for a minute more, he snaps out of his daze and scurries over. Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and pressing a kiss to the base of neck, he relishes in how you mould to him immediately, not even questioning who it was. 

“Welcome back baby,” Matthew mumbles into your skin. 

With a chuckle you wriggle slightly in his grasp, allowing yourself to face him. You press a kiss to his lips and it feels like heaven. Absence does make the heart grow fonder, you suppose, because you could stand here kissing Matthew your the rest of your life and be happy. 

“Hi Matty,” you giggle against his lips, parting from him only to rest your forehead on his and twist a curl around your finger.

From somewhere inside the house you hear Brady yell,  “Jesus Christ, you two, get a room.”

Without taking his eyes off you, Matthew replies, “Fuck off Brady!”

two

The energy inside the Saddledome is electric. It’s the Flames’ first home game in nearly a week, doing an east coast road trip and sweeping every team they faced. Six games later the team is on a nine game winning streaking and are hoping to keep it going. You know how much it matters in this moment – the playoffs are fast approaching and all points they can tally up are needed. 

You had decided months ago to buy rinkside tickets for this game, planning to surprise Matthew. He loves when you sit in the regular crowd, cheering and spilling your beer like any old fan. It’s humbling for the both of you, and honestly you enjoy it. Though you love those in the Better Halves box, you were a hockey fan before dating Matthew and sometimes like to enjoy games by yourself. Plus, your friend was supposed to be in town and join you at the game, and you figured she’d like to experience how insane the area is firsthand.

So you do your best to quickly shimmy around those blocking your seat, beverage in hand. It was all you could do to get to the rink on time, sitting in the dense downtown traffic for nearly three quarters of an hour after rushing out of work. You wanted to make it before warmups started to make sure Matt knows you’re there supporting him. No one really bats an eye at you, which you’re thankful for. In no way are you notorious, but it wouldn’t take a die-hard fan long to recognize you. Sitting down and letting a soft sigh escape your lips, you carefully place your jacket over the seat beside you. At the last minute your friend had to cancel her trip to Calgary, leaving you solo. With a quick look at the clock you see that warm up will start in just under a minute. The players begin to step onto the ice as you sip your beer. Matthew is yet to notice you but you don’t take offence. He’s in the zone and most likely won’t realize you’re sitting right in front of him until halfway through the third period.

“Look daddy, it’s Matthew Tkachuk!” you hear a young boy shriek in excitement. “He’s so fast, I want to play just like him.”

You turn to look and see two rows above you there’s a father and son, who looks around eight. He’s wearing a jersey identical to yours, and from the sounds of his excited chattering it’s his first game. Seeing the young boy so happy to be here, to see your boyfriend, has your heart swelling. You want to make this a game he’ll never forget.

“Hi,” you smile at the father. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I know Matthew quite well. Would you like me to get his attention so your son could meet him?”

A shocked expression makes its way onto the dad’s face, but he doesn’t react negatively. “You’d do that?” he asks. “Riley loves Matthew. Wants to be just like him.” When you nod, he lets you approach the boy. 

“Hey there Riley, I’m Y/N,” you say, smiling and extending a hand to him. “I’m a special friend of Matthew’s. Would you like to meet him?”

The boy looks at his father tentatively, and only once he nods encouragingly does Riley respond to your question. “Yes please.”

“Why don’t you come down here with me and we’ll get his attention?”

With a little help from you, Riley climbs over the seats and plops unceremoniously beside you. You help him straighten out his jersey before beginning a conversation. He tells you he plays in a local youth league and wants to make it to the NHL one day. When prompted, you explain to him that you work a boring office job that you love even though it makes you angry sometimes. It’s all very formal, but after cracking a few jokes you get him to loosen up.

Matthew, still not having noticed you, begins to skate along the boards in your direction. “Watch this,” you whisper-yell to your newfound friend, “I bet he’ll jump super high.”

As soon as Matthew passes your spot you bang on the glass and scream his name. Sure enough, his skates lift a good three inches of the ice and he shrieks. Teammates around him laugh and the look on his face is priceless when he discovers you’re the culprit. 

“Babe!” 

You smile. “Matty, this is my new friend Riley. He wears number nineteen just like you!” A glance at the boy lets you know he’s starstruck, and your eyes lock with Matthew’s. 

He leans down and rests his hands on his knees, at eye level with the child. “Hi Riley,” he begins. “I’m Matt. I like your jersey.” 

After that, Riley’s a tap that won’t turn off. He details every bit of his day to Matt, and even though their voices are muffled a bit from the glass they get on like two peas in a pod. Matthew is great with children and doesn’t shy away from having legitimate conversations with them. He talks to them like they’re people, which is something you admire about him. The warmup time runs out, but before he heads back to the dressing room Matthew hoists his stick over the glass, giving it to Riley. The younger boy beams and waves goodbye. You blow Matthew a kiss, which he gladly returns, and turn your attention away from him as his figure retreats. 

“Is he your boyfriend?”The question makes you laugh.

“Is it that obvious?” you ask, to which Riley just shrugs. 

“He called you ‘babe’, and my mommy calls my dad that. That means you’re in love,” he says as though it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world. 

Matthew cannot pay attention in the locker room for the life of him. He’s trying really hard to listen to everyone’s hype speeches, but his mind keeps wandering back to the interaction you shared during warm up. You looked so happy watching him interact with the boy you found god knows where within the arena. It’s then he realizes he wants to watch you act like that for the rest of his life. He wants to see you bring excited children to meet him because you have the power to make their nights. His suspicion is confirmed when he steps onto the ice and looks in your direction, finding you and Riley pressed up against the glass cheering loudly.

three

The Giordano’s are hosting an end-of-season barbeque before everyone scatters into the wind, and you’re going to be late. No matter how much you reminded Matthew of what time you had to leave he still started getting ready as you were finishing up. This typically wouldn’t be a big deal, but he has recently started taking care of his curls, and the routine eats up a lot more time than he anticipates. 

“Matty, are you almost ready? There’s going to be no parking!”

His footsteps echo off the hardwood floor as he comes towards you. “That’s what you’re worrying about, baby? Parking?” Matthew laughs, pulling you into his side and kissing the crown of your head. 

“Yeah Matt, I am. You know I have parking anxiety.”

“I’ll drive then,” he says sweetly. “Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve driven us. Have some fun tonight.”

The short drive across town is full of laughter. Neither of you are great singers, but it doesn’t stop you from belting out lyrics at the top of your lungs. At some point Matthew breaks out a rather terrible impression of Axl Rose and you just have to post it to your instagram story. Captioning with a simple microphone emoji, you slip your phone back into your sweater pocket. Though most certainly warm enough to spend the entire evening outside, Calgary currently has a bit of a proclivity for wind, and you’d rather be prepared. Outside of Mark and Lauren’s house Matthew finds a spot and parallel parks with ease.

“Shut up,” you mumble, poking your tongue out at him. 

Matthew ruffles your hair in retaliation before jumping out of the vehicle, booking it around to the other side so he can open your door. He isn’t slick about hiding his intentions, grabbing a handful off your ass before leaning down to kiss you. Though you’d much rather stand in the cul-de-sac and make out with your boyfriend, you both have appearances to keep up. You get him to stop being a pest kong enough that you can enter the party and pass him off to his teammates. 

You congregate with some of the other girls in the corner of the yard, and enjoy a drink while the sun sets. It’s fun to gossip with them, to catch up one final time before most of them leave. You’ll be staying in Calgary, job tying you down for the foreseeable future. The only thing that’s better than spending time with your friends is glancing at Matthew from across the space. 

He’s enjoying himself, glass of water in hand. When he offered to be the designated driver he was serious, and he took the shit the boys were giving him in stride. Though you’ve only had one gin and tonic and can’t feel the effects of the alcohol, you’re glad he’s staying true to his word. The heightened water intake makes his skin glow, and you’re having a hard time staying focussed on the story Lauren is telling. He catches you staring and shoots you a dazzling smile. Tired of keeping your distance, you excuse yourself from the conversation and saunter over to your boyfriend. 

“Hey Y/N,” Noah says breezily, raising his glass to you in mock salute. You wrap your arms tightly around Matthew’s waist.

“Hanifin,” you smile. “I’m really sorry to do this, but I need to pull Matt away for a quick second.”

No one in the group is the least bit surprised. The two of you have a reputation for being young and in love, sneaking off often and doing everything that entails. Once the two of you are alone you rest a hand on his chest, dangerously close to the button of his shirt. You then move kissing along the underside of his jaw, pressing your body closer to his to ensure he gets the point. 

“Needy baby?” Matthew tries to smirk, but his voice wavers when you reach the junction of his jawbone and earlobe. 

Declining to speak, you continue your actions until he’s just as desperate to get home as you. Though you try to be sneaky as you exit through the back gate, you won’t be surprised if you wake up to a few crude text messages. You’re too far gone to care, solely focussed on showing your boyfriend how much you love him. 

The entire ride home Matthew can barely focus on the road. Not because you’re doing anything particularly risqué, a few too many close calls have put you both off of initiating things in the car, but because he doesn’t ever want to stop sneaking away from events with you. It’s exhilarating in more ways than one, and he hopes the feeling never goes away. Being with you, his best friend, is something he wouldn’t trade for the entire world. So what if he gets chirped by the boys for having precariously placed marks on his back.

four

September brings a chill to Calgary, but you couldn’t feel warmer. Matthew is due home this afternoon after nearly four months of being away. Of course you visited him in St. Louis, and he even flew back to the city once, but the two of you were mostly separated. Your shared apartment felt cold and lonely without him to annoy you, so you had spent as much time away from it as possible. No longer do you have to fall asleep with Matt’s side of the bed stone cold. 

Though you know he likely won’t care, you’re nervous about the new decor. In an effort to make yourself feel better in Matthew’s absence, you completed some home renovations. Most are superficial, like a new sectional and an ungraded home speaker system, but you had redone the entire kitchen after scrolling through pinterest. The cabinets are a bright yellow, and the walls are a warm cream. Subway tile has also replaced the previous backsplash. You’re quite proud of the way it looks – doing pretty much all of it yourself and only calling your dad when you really needed help. 

You spend much of the morning not doing anything productive, pacing the hallway back and forth. It’s nerve wracking and exciting to have Matthew home. Things will go much smoother with his presence even if he can sometimes be the most annoying person on the planet. You force yourself to eat a small meal before continuing to wear holes into your floor. He’ll arrive in a matter of minutes, and you’re practically vibrating with how much your legs are shaking. 

A key twists in the lock, as though it’s a Pavlovian response, you bound towards the front door. Not even letting him step over the threshold you wrap yourself around him as tightly as possible. Matthew giggles sweetly, and you swear it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. Tears flow freely down your cheeks and soak through his shirt. In a very ungraceful waddle Matthew carries the both of you inside your home and shuts the door lightly. 

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” Matt asks, obviously concerned because this is more emotional than any homecoming you’ve ever had. 

Through hiccupping sobs, you stutter out, “I painted the kitchen cabinets yellow and you’re going to hate them. And then you’ll want to break up with me but I won’t be able to take them with me.”

“Woah woah woah, slow down baby,” he soothes, rubbing circles on your back. “Why am I going to hate it?”

When you can’t come up with a justifiable answer, he knows your anxiety just got the better of you. Repositioning you slightly so you’re tucked into his side, Matthew walks through the apartment to see the kitchen for himself. He’s blown away by its beauty, and he can see just how much work you put into it. The room is so much brighter and inviting – he can’t imagine having any other kitchen now. 

Once you ramble off an apology for being so dramatic that he won’t accept, the two of you settle into the couch and start a reality television marathon. It’s a tradition that both of you take very seriously, and though he’d never admit it to anyone but you, Matthew looks forward to watching the outlandish dramas. The night is quiet, with you getting through quite a few seasons of Desperate Housewives, and at some point you fall asleep on Matthew’s chest. He knows he should gently move you off of him, start to unpack his bags, but he can’t tear himself away.

He can’t help but stare as you snore softly. There’s nothing Matthew would like more than to spend the rest of his life relaxing after coming home to you. If he’s being completely honest, St. Louis doesn’t feel like home as much anymore, and he finds himself counting down the days until he can return to Calgary. Matt supposes you’re the defining factor, and even Antarctica would feel like home to him if you were there. He never wants to lose that feeling. 

+ one 

There’s ten seconds left on the clock. Ten seconds until the Calgary Flames will become Stanley Cup champions. You’re holding your breath – you know a lot could happen in such a short amount of time. The lead isn’t as wide as you’d like it to be, only one, and you squeeze Taryn’s hand tightly. Everyone in the friends and family box is just as amped up as you. If the choice had been yours, you’d be sitting in the stands of the Saddledome, but in event the Flames win you need to be with everyone else if you want to join the team on the ice. 

Matthew carries the puck up the ice, and you audibly gasp. At the last second, a Bruins defenseman is blocking his view of the net. Not letting the scoring opportunity go for his team, he snaps a pass backwards to Elias Lindholm. A nano-second later the puck is in the back of the net. You possibly scream the loudest of anyone in the box, jumping into Brady’s arms excitedly. 

“Holy shit, they’re going to do it,” you whisper, and Brady nods enthusiastically. The clock now only has two seconds, and there is virtually no way the Bruins can make a comeback. 

You untangle yourself from your boyfriend’s brother and approach his parents. “How exciting is this!” Chantal gushes. 

“So fucking exciting,” you say honestly. “Listen, I want to talk to you about something.”

The Bruins’ head coach is halfway through his timeout, so you have to talk fast. You explain that you want to hang back while the family celebrates with their son and brother. Keith and Chantal try to argue, but you insist. You want them to be the first people to greet him as a Stanley Cup champion. 

A horn signals the return to play, and you return your attention to the ice pad below you. Everything seems to move in slow motion; all you remember is the final whistle being blown and getting crushed in a group hug by everyone else in the room. Your voice goes hoarse from screaming, and tears stream freely down your face. 

The party continues for a short time in the box, but then you’re being led through the arena and out onto the ice. Nodding in the direction of Matthew, you urge the Tkachuks to greet him. You congratulate other members of the team, snapping candid pictures of everyone to share in the group chat later. So many families will treasure the photos that you can’t bring yourself to stop, trying your hardest to grab everyone. 

Once enough time has passed for Matthew to properly be congratulated by his family, you make your way towards him. Wasting no time, he skates over and lifts you off your feet. Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, and if you weren’t so proud you’d have reservations about sticking your tongue down Matthew’s throat in a packed arena. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper against his lips. “My champion.”

Matthew blushes profusely at your words, and you can tell he likes them. “Couldn’t have done it without you supporting me,” he responds, leaning into your touch as you rake your fingers through his hair. 

While you celebrate with the rest of the team, holding babies and snapping pictures, Matthew realizes he can’t live without you. No one else will fit into his life as perfectly as you. There’s no one he wants besides you. Matthew makes a mental note to go through your jewelry box in the morning to get your ring size. His mom always said he’d know when someone was ‘the one’, and now he understands what she meant.  

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

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