#i was always like a 30£ shirt... i got THREE books with that... for ONE shirt.... three is literally bigger than one 🙄

[lonesomedotmp3]

I don't know if I can bring myself to spend 200£ on shoes it's not in my soul. I'll forever be a person who gets ten pound knock off vans from primark and insists they're fine even though the soles are so thin it feels like you're straight up walking barefoot

[kjupchurch-xx]

You're Mine (request on Tumblr for a jealousy filled fic featuring Tom Hiddleston)

WARNING: For those that do not like SMUT, I'm sorry, you can skip this one. This is a request I got on Tumblr and I do honor all requests... within reason, LOL. 

Today was Hugh and I's third anniversary. The last three years have been amazing to say the least. We met five years ago when I'd stumbled into his coffee shop, Laughing Man Cafe, a coffee and tea shop he owned, located in New York. Hugh had stopped in to sign autographs and meet a few fans, I'd stopped in for a coffee, not realizing Hugh Jackman owned it. 

We began dating shortly after, getting married two years later. I'd always been extras in films, but he'd help me kick start my career as being a lead in some smaller films. I was always apprehensive about doing bigger films, so I strayed away from them. Hugh would spend hours going over lines with me to prepare me for various roles over the last few years. I checked my email noticing a script my manager sent over to me. It was a bigger film, of course and I had managed to get the part after a stressful audition. I didn't bother reading the script before auditioning, but I knew it was a rom-com with Tom Hiddleston, who was well known for playing Loki. 

"Holy shit." I mumbled, reading over the script. Hugh looked over at me from the opposite end of the couch, wearing his glasses, "What? Did you get dropped?" He asked concerned. 

I rolled my eyes, "Why do you automatically assume I was dropped from a film?" 

He chuckled, "What's with the 'holy shit' reaction?" He sat his laptop down, scooting beside me to see my phone. 

I took a deep breath, "Uh, well... There's a sex scene with Tom and I." 

He shrugged, "It's just acting, babe. You'll do fine. Sex scenes are fun to film."

I cocked my brow looking at him, "Really?" I asked sarcastically. 

He laughed, shaking his head, "I don't mean it like that. They're awkward. You're wearing these little bags and cover-ups, stimulating sex for hours. It's weird, but the key is to make each other laugh." 

He would know. He's the man that's always down for a good sex scene. 

I continued skimming the email, "Holy fuck! We're filming it at 5." I said mentally face palming as I jumped up to grab normal clothes, rather than the sweats and over sized t-shirt I was wearing. 

Hugh looked at his watch, "Oh fuck, it's 3:45 now. Let's get ready and I'll take you. Tom's a nice dude, you'll be fine, baby." He said as he jumped up to change out of his comfy clothes. 

As we got ready and jetted out of the door of our home in NYC, we flew through traffic and made it to the set with 10 minutes to spare. When we arrived on set, I was greeted by my manager, Tom's manager, Tom and a few of the film crew. 

"Ooooh, she brought Wolverine with her, Tom. You better be careful." one of the cameramen teased. 

Tom chuckled, "I'm always careful." as he made his way to Hugh smiling, "Nice to see you again, Hugh." 

Hugh smiled, "Hey Mate, nice to see you."

The director walked over to us, "Okay Jackman, as much as I love your beautiful ass, you're not in my movie. Get off the set." She teased. 

Hugh laughed, throwing his hands up, walking towards the side of the set, "You knew it would cost too much to book me." he said jokingly. 

Tom and I sat in the middle of the set with the director as she explained the script and how she wanted the intimate scene to take place. "So, we're going to get you two ready for the shot, you'll both be wearing cover-ups, so you won't actually be naked, but you'll appear naked to the audience and to the cameras." We nodded in agreement. "Whenever she comes in, I want you to pin her to the door in a full on make out with second base type thing, but you'll both still be clothed for that scene." 

We nodded, "Alright." we said in unison while going our separate ways to get into our character outfits. After about 30 minutes of changing and fixing our hair, we met back on set. A door separating us. This was my first time doing an intimate scene in a movie. I'd had brief kissing scenes over the years, but nothing to this level. I could feel my anxiety building as I took a deep breath, staring towards the door. 

"And, action!" The director yelled, slamming a marker. 

I grabbed the door, pushing it open to be met with Tom, grabbing me and intensely shoving me against it, pushing his lips onto mine. The kiss was deep, it was messy, there were shots where you see his tongue forcing its way into my mouth. Tom wasn't a bad kisser by any means, I will say that. The director decided the scene wasn't her favorite and wanted to re-do it two more times afterwards, wanting Tom to be more aggressive each time we'd kissed. 

I glanced over to Hugh, who was on the sidelines, playing on his phone. I could tell he was getting annoyed, but being the professional he is, not wanting to show it. Tom shook me from my thoughts, "You know, kissing you is pretty fun." He said, winking at me. I chuckled, not wanting to cause issues, but also shaking off the uncomfortable feeling his flirting was giving me. Hugh is typically not a jealous man, but I knew if he overheard the flirting, he'd knock this dude's teeth out and make sure he never did another Marvel movie again. 

On the third shot of the kissing scene, I felt Tom's hand brush slightly across my breast. Not enough for me to really react, but enough for me to know he did it. Not knowing if this was truly a coincidence, I shrugged it off as we went to get ready for the sex scene. I was completely naked, besides a small skin colored cover-up that literally only covered my vagina. Tom was wearing a skin colored bag that hid his dick. 

We wrapped ourselves in robes while we weren't filming to meet the director as she explained how she wanted the sex scene to go and what her expectations were. This was my first big film, and I knew if I wanted to score a good career, I had to sell it regardless of how I was feeling. As we made our way to the bed and stripped our robes, we both laid on the bed, under the comforter. The director wanted Tom on top of me, so he climbed on top of me and looked me dead in the eyes. I couldn't force myself to look over at Hugh, so I blocked him completely out of my brain and continued looking at the guy that was on top of me. 

"And, action!" The director yells, slamming her marker. 

Tom looked down at me, "Is this what you want?" He asks seductively, moving his hips in a motion as if he were positioning himself to enter me, throwing the comforter off of us, revealing our naked bodies. 

I moaned, biting my lip, "I want you." 

Tom stimulated his hips as if he'd slammed into me while I stimulated the scene to make it look as if I were matching his thrusts as both of us moaned. He took one of my nipples in his mouth and began sucking on it while still pretending to thrust into me while I drug my fingernails down his back and cried out his character's name. 

The scene in the movie only showed the sex for about two minutes, before cutting to a scene of both of us cuddled in bed talking about how we couldn't let our spouses find out about what we'd done. 

Tom giggled, "We can't let them know. This needs to be our dirty little secret." 

I smirked, "I know, I know... But you fuck so much better than anyone I've ever been with. He'll be out of town working all week anyways." 

Tom leaned down, kissing my head, holding me, "Do you know how long I've waited to do that? How hard it is being around you two and having to hide how hard my dick gets when you're around me... We're horrible people." He chuckled. 

I rolled my eyes, "What they don't know won't hurt them." I said as I playfully trailed my fingers down his stomach, "I want more..." I said seductively. 

"Cut! That was perfect, guys!" The director exclaimed, running towards us with our robes. 

Filming for the day had ended and I hadn't looked at Hugh in hours. I was too afraid to. I know this is what actors do and he knows good and well how acting in films can be, but something in me felt like this was going to be a disaster. As I put my normal clothes back on and told everyone bye, I noticed Hugh was outside on his phone. He looked pissed.

I walked up behind him, wrapped my arms around him, "I'm finished, baby. Do you want to get dinner?" I asked sweetly. 

He glanced at me, ending the phone and walking to get in the car, "Not hungry." He grunted. 

I opened the door of the car, awkwardly getting in, "We're going home." He said coldly. 

"Are you okay?" I asked, reaching for his arm, only to have him pull away. 

He kept his eyes focused on the road, "What's wrong, love? You won't even look at me." I said, starting to tear up. 

He scoffed, "What's wrong? You enjoyed that! You were really getting into that wannabe Wolverine motherfucker all over you!" He spat. 

My jaw dropped, "Excuse me? What are you talking about? I was doing my job, Hugh!" 

He laughed annoyingly, "Really? Your job wasn't to look like you were shooting a motherfucking pornography movie. It was to do a two minute sex scene and you took it too fucking far with him. Do you want to fuck him that bad?" 

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he really that jealous by me doing a sex scene in a movie he told me to audition for? 

I shook my head, "What are you talking about right now? I did exactly what the director asked me to do." I said in defense. 

He looked at me, "Really? Do you realize how fucking heartbreaking it is to watch a younger man, closer to your age all over you, sucking on your tits? Then you're both talking about good thing our spouses don't know. You know you were turned on by it. I know you."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever, Hugh. Just get me home before I start walking. I'm seriously about to get out of this car." 

He scoffed again, "Yeah? Go ring Tom, I'm sure he'll pick you up." 

As we got home, he hopped out of the car, making sure he slammed the door and every door inside the house. He was being dramatic. Does seeing me stimulating a fake sex scene with an attractive actor that's younger than him bother him that badly? I'm literally doing what he does with other women, well maybe not that extreme, but does he forget that I have to see him kissing or flirting with other women onscreen in almost every movie or interview he does? I mean shit...Excuse me for just furthering my career. 

As the night went on, he seemed to calm down. I found him playing his piano, looking lost in his own thoughts. I walked towards him, "Are you finally calm?" I asked bluntly, bracing myself for the reaction. 

He shook his head cheekily, "I'm fine. Do you want to have a cuddle in bed?" He asked, smiling at me.  

I nodded, "Of course, love." I said, while grabbing his hand, leading him to our bedroom. 

As we approached the bed, he pushed me down, kissing me aggressively, biting and sucking on my bottom lip as if he were going to literally gnaw it off. "You really think he's better than me, huh?" He mumbled against my lips, causing me to roll my eyes. 

I brushed the comment off and continued the kiss, "Answer me." He growled while pushing his boner into my hips. "No..." I said lowly. "No, what?" He spat back, pushing himself further into my hips. "No baby, I don't." I said, looking up at him. 

"I sat on the side and watched him practically fuck you and touch you for hours. Do you know how fucking bad I wanted to rip his face off for touching my wife?" He asked as yanked my shirt off. "Watching him suck on your perfect tits... You're mine, do you understand that?" He said while pulling my pants off, leaving me in my bra and underwear. 

I nodded, "Yours..." He sat back up pulling his own clothes off as he climbed back on top of me, pulling my panties to the side, shoving his fingers inside me, while sucking on my neck. "This is my pussy." He whispered into my ear as his fingers danced inside me. 

I couldn't help the moan that escaped from my lips, "Oh fuck... Baby, don't stop." I moaned, while reaching for his boxers. "I want you." 

He pulled them down, revealing his hard cock, "You want me? Are you sure you don't want Tom?" He asked, cocking his brow at me as he rubbed my clit. 

I nodded, biting my lip so hard I could taste blood, "You're the only one I want..." I said as I reached for his cock, wrapping my hand around the length. 

"Show me." He said, pulling me on top of him. I slid down his frame, kissing every inch of his torso as I made my way down to his manhood. I felt him place his hand on the back of my head as I took him into my mouth. I sucked hard on the tip while letting my hand work the base as I felt him start roughly thrusting into my mouth as he threw his head back, his moans filling the air. 

"That's a good girl. Show me how much you want my dick." He moaned, as I began bobbing my head quicker taking his rough thrusts deep into the back of my throat. 

This was not like Hugh, but I was loving every minute of it. It almost makes me wish I'd taken more opportunities to push his buttons. I could feel him throbbing in my mouth as he pulled out not wanting to cum just yet. He glanced down at me, motioning for me to get on my knees. 

I did as I was told as I felt him push my panties to the side, entering me. His thrusts were fast and rough, not the sweet, romantic I was used to getting. He slapped my ass hard, "Is this what you wanted?" He grunted, "You wanted this cock, you don't want anyone else's cock, do you?" He gave a deeper thrust, "Answer me or I'll stop and you can go ring Tom instead." He yelled. 

I threw my head back, trying to form words as the feeling of euphoria overtook my body. "Fuck! Don't stop!" I managed to scream between moans, "I only want you." I said, trying to not let myself go this soon. 

He grabbed a handful of my hair, turning my face to look at him, "This is mine. All mine." He moaned. I could tell he was getting close, I could feel him throbbing inside me. "Cum for me, baby. Let me see how good I make you feel." He said while tugging on my hair. 

I let go and exploded on him, literally falling down to the bed as I felt him cum deep inside me. He collapsed beside me, breathless. "Do you feel better now?" I asked him chuckling, sounding a bit amused while trying to catch my breath. 

He chuckled, "I do. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked sweetly. 

There he was... There was my sweet baby. I smiled, "You didn't hurt me in a bad way, if that's what you're asking. Maybe I should make you jealous more often." I joked.

He laughed, pulling me closer to him, "Maybe so, love."  

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

Chapter 2: Edgy and Dull

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!reader

🚨18+ONLY, mature themes, eventual smut, mention of poverty, mention of hard times at home, alcohol consumption, smoking, some physical violence, cheating (not on reader), angsty situation, I'm not sure what else to put here, please let me know if I missed something. Word count: 4.4k

Series Masterlist Playlist

---------

“Sometimes it’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull, and

cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my skull”

“You know that saying, ‘shit happens and then you die’?” You had your headphones around your neck, makeup done, but only your sweats and ratty t-shirt on as you walked through the kitchen. “Shouldn’t it be, ‘shit happens and then you live’? Cause that just feels more accurate.”

Your roommate Katie had the day off, and she was reading a book in the love seat by the window, but you had to be at work by 2 to get ready for the gallery opening.

“I think we should get the latter one tattooed on us,” Katie responded, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book.

It had just occurred to you, only moments earlier, that you were missing an earring. Not a big deal, they weren’t expensive or anything, but you didn’t want to step on it in your bare feet or find out that your cat Charlie ate it by accident. You tossed your bed and couldn’t find it, and later you were on your hands and knees going through the carpet with your fingers when Katie brought her book down so that just her eyes were showing over the top.

“You lose your dignity again?”

“Yes, but also,” you stood up with a sigh, brushing yourself off. “I lost the pair to those silver hoops I always wear. Oh well,” you were running late, per usual, and getting distracted with the chore of looking for an insignificant piece of your jewelry was not helping.

You just didn’t want to go into work, that was the problem. You got dressed listening to Supernova by Liz Phair, and then you had to go into the third bedroom you used as a studio to grab something, and the three works in progress sitting there glaring back at you made you pause. The irony of it was, you'd started working at the gallery to be closer to the art world, but you worked so much, you rarely had time to paint. It was the definition of madness.

“See you at 5:30,” you called to Katie as you walked out the door. You were both suckers for any event that offered free snacks and booze. “Oh and please check Charlie’s food dish before you leave. Okayloveyoubye.”

As you approached your car where it was parked at the curb, your eyes locked on the brand new, passenger side tire, and you couldn’t help but think about the hands that put it there. You had a flashback of his smile, the way his mouth moved when he talked, the way the back of his hand grazed your knee when he was reaching for the CB. You had experienced an instant familiarity that didn’t make any sense to you.

You know what else didn’t make sense? You forgetting your keys inside because you’d be shit out of luck trying to get your car started without them. Also, you still had your slippers on.

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

The sign in the window of Moon River Gallery announced the showing of original paintings and sculpture by Anna Stavros and Beckett Miller, and you were setting up the beverage table when the owner of the gallery, Judith, showed up. She only came for the events, to mingle and show off to her friends, but she wasn’t one to lend a hand, and she was never available when you had questions. In some ways, it was nice, because you could take care of the space and the other employees without too much micro-managing, but when she did show up---it was always emotionally taxing.

“You’re not wearing that today, are you?” Judith asked you, the sides of her mouth jerking down, her brows clenching together.

What you had on was similar to what you always wore at the gallery; it was simple and classic so that the customers and clients could focus on the artwork and not on you. But, it wasn’t cashmere or Ralph Lauren, and Judith was an honest to god snob. If she knew that most of your clothes were bought second hand at thrift stores, she’d have a stroke right in the middle of the showroom floor.

You looked down at yourself. “Um, yes. Yes I am,” even though you knew what you had on was fine, her comment still made you self-conscious and you crossed your arms over your chest.

You walked the floor with Judith to show her how you set everything up, and to give her an idea of how many had already RSVP’d. You were looking down the list of confirmed clients when a name toward the bottom caught your eye.

...Charlene Gregson & guest….

A few guests arrived early and Judith went over so that they could sing their praises to her. You caught the eye of one of your helpers, Jeffery, and waved him over, mouthing for him to meet you around the back of the stairs.

“Hey,” you brushed a piece of hair off of your face. “First of all, you’re doing great. The artist statements look amazing. But also, are you the one who took the confirmation for Charlene Gregson? I don’t remember her being on the original list.”

At first, Jeffery looked worried, like maybe had done something wrong, but then he softened and got a little flustered. “It’s one of Judith’s friends, they know each other from the country club.”

Judith was supposed to run all of the invites by you, so that you could be prepared, but she usually just expected you to read her mind.

“Do you know who the guest she’s bringing is?” You ask, thinking it would be her husband, and how you were curious to get a good look at both of them.

At the front of the gallery, Judith had her arms wide, taking bold credit for how everything was set up.

Jeff inched closer and whispered. “You’re going to love this. Apparently, she has a bodyguard that she takes with her to events.”

You turned to Jeff with your mouth open, assuming it was a joke, a permanent look of surprise frozen on your face, and it made him stifle a laugh.

The two of you stepped further to the side, behind one of the dividers. “A bodyguard?” You repeated what he just said, thinking maybe you got it wrong. “Is she running for president of the United States or something?”

“It’s so strange, right?” Jeff looked to see where Judith was and then kept talking. “The rumor is, she was robbed at gun point a few months ago, and ever since then, she’s been paying a member of the Coffin Kings to be her driver and her bodyguard whenever her husband is away.”

You held your breath at Coffin Kings. Wasn’t that the motorcycle gang rumored to have a clubhouse at Munson’s Garage?

“Did you get the name for this body guard by chance?” You had a weird feeling, but passed it off as sampling too much of the pre-packaged deli cheese.

“No, I’m sorry,” Jeffery looked so sad, like he had just let you down in the biggest way.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, “ you patted his arm, and then noticed that Judith was beckoning for you. “We’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

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

Soon enough came exactly 42 minutes later.

You were in the middle of explaining the nuances and inspirations for a large mixed media piece by the artist Anna Stavros for a handful of people when Jeffery scooted up to your side and took your arm, whispering, “she’s here,” into your ear and, rightfully so, you completely lost your train of thought.

You excused yourself from the group, and asked one of the other employees to refill their wine glasses---because drunk people buy more art.

The gallery floor was packed. There was an art walk happening on the entire street, so some of them came and went, but a few were lifers who only bought art from Judith because of her family name.

You followed Jeffery around so that you could have a clear view of the front door and, there she was: tall, blonde, and tan. She was probably in her late thirties; she had a face like Bridget Fonda with the body and style of Sharon Stone.

You gulped.

But you choked on your own saliva and started to cough when you saw Eddie out on the sidewalk waiting for her, smoking a cigarette. Turns out, your gut had been right; it hadn’t been the cheese after all.

He looked...really good. He had on a black leather jacket, heavy with buckles and zippers, on over a button down dress shirt that was undone all the way to the middle of his chest, allowing the hint of several tattoos to peak out. He wore black jeans with boots, and his hair was down, long passed his shoulders. It was kinda messy and curly and you wanted to touch it.

“10 out of 10 would let the bodyguard bend me over in a dark alley,” Jeff said in your ear, and you silently agreed.

You turned to say something else to Jeff, but just then a guest touched his arm and engaged him in conversation.

You made a beeline through the crowd to introduce yourself to Charlene, but Katie intercepted you breathlessly. “I know I’m late, I’m so sorry, I took a nap and I didn’t set the alarm and---”

“It’s okay,” you tell her. You’re not looking at her though, your eyes are on Charlene who has now gone over to talk with Judith. “I’m glad you made it. Here, have my wine. Eat all of the shrimp you want. I’ll be right back.”

You watched through the front windows as Eddie sucked on his cigarette, hooked one thumb into his front belt loop, and leaned back against the lamp post at the edge of the sidewalk. You took another look around you, and then grabbed a beer from the ice bucket at the beverage table and headed out.

“Did you come to take my tire back?” You called out to him as you stepped from the threshold and started to close the distance between the two of you.

He threw you a dirty look at first, but then recollection dawned, and he offered not a smile so much as little quotations appearing on each side of his mouth. He straightened, sliding his back up the lamp post and flicked his cigarette.

“Well, well, well,” he jerked his chin at you. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You’re on my turf now, buddy,” you said, spreading your arms wide after glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one could see you from the window. “Thirsty?” You asked, extending the beer to him.

“How did you know what kind of beer I drink?” He asked with a few creases in his forehead, appraising the can as you handed it to him.

You shrugged. “It’s the beer I like, so, I guess that means you have good taste.”

Eddie looked tired. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes right away, and even though he put on a good, tough front, you could tell that he hadn’t slept well in days, maybe weeks. He dropped the butt of his cigarette to the sidewalk and crushed it with the toe of his boot as he cracked the can and took a swig.

The sidewalk was narrow and you pressed your back against the brick wall of the building across from him, allowing other art walk people to pass by as you talked.

He waited for a few pedestrians to pass by before he spoke to you again. “So, you’re gonna make me drink alone?”

“I’m on the clock,” you tilted your head, placing your hands behind your lower back so that your fingers grazed the brick behind you. “One of those beers and I won’t be able to stop.”

“I’d like to see that,” he said under his breath, putting his lips against the rim of his beer for another drink, trying is best to contain another grin.

“Wait,” he seemed to catch something a bit later than you gave it. “You work here? At this gallery?”

You could see that his face was a genuine mix of being shocked and impressed. His eyes shifted to the door a few times, and you wondered---was there also a hint of worry there? Fear that Charlene would come out and see him talking to you?

“I suppose you could call what I do work,” you returned, flippantly. “I can’t change a tire or do what you do, that’s for sure.”

“You don’t even own a tire,” he teased.

“Hey, that’s not true, I have the required number now, thank you very much.”

“You need to carry a spare in your trunk, just in case,” he wiped his mouth and put his chin to his chest, and then looked up at you from under his lashes. “Come by the shop some day, I have a few to spare. I won’t charge you.”

You were touched by the generous offer and it was a challenge to think of a new sarcastic thing to say.

“Do you want to come inside?” You knew deep in your soul that he wouldn’t; it was absolutely not his scene. Hell, it wasn’t even yours, to be honest. “There’s a lot of free food in there. Pounds of it, actually.”

His stomach grumbled and he worried for a beat that maybe you had heard it. He’d be able to grab a bite after he dropped Charlene off and she paid him. Every time he thought about her paying him, it made him cringe internally, like he was some kind of fuckboy escort service. But ever since Wayne got sick, he let her stick a couple hundred dollar bills in his pocket every now and then, because every dime helped.

“No thanks,” he shook his head, waiting again for another handful of pedestrians. “I don’t want the cops to get called on your party.”

You wondered why he said that. Was it because of how he looked? Or was there another reason? You wanted to ask, but then Jeffery came scrambling out onto the sidewalk, arms flailing.

“Hey, I need you!” He was in panic mode, but when he saw that you were talking to someone, he bashfully locked his fingers together in front of him. “Pardon me. I mean, I am in need of your assistance madame, posthaste.”

You pushed off from the wall and said, “duty calls.”

But then, Eddie pushed off of the lamp post and suddenly you were both close together in the middle of the sidewalk. You looked up at him, waiting, watching the way his lips parted as if he were about to say something.

“You should...if you’re not...if you have time later,” God he cursed himself for how he was babbling. Fuck, Munson, spit it out for godsake. She already thinks you’re a pimp and a loser, what else could go wrong?

“I mean,” Eddie cleared his throat. “If you’re free after this, my band is playing at The Hideout tonight. It’s a total dump, but the beer is cold.” He ended it with a little self-deprecating laugh that you recognized because you used it often.

You waved Jeff back inside and turned back to Eddie. “Um,” the answer you wanted to shout at him was YES, but you had a few things to consider.

You’re such an idiot, Munson. His internal monologue continued. Why would a woman like her ever be caught dead in a place like that with a guy like you?

“I’ll be here cleaning up until after 10. Will you still be there?”

It took him a few blinks to realize that you were accepting his invitation. “No, I mean yeah, that’s---we won’t even go on until after 10.”

“Okay, then, maybe I’ll see you later.” you started walking and smiled at him over your shoulder.

“Oh, wait,” Eddie called to you, remembering the earring he’d been carrying around in the pocket of his jacket, but you were already inside.

Just as you entered the gallery, Charlene Gregson was hugging Judith goodbye, and she brushed by you on her way out the door, smelling like suntan oil and Chanel No. 5. You waited, and then turned to see her go up to Eddie and kiss him on the cheek, before he went around to open the passenger side door of her black Porsche for her. She kissed him on the cheek? Why did this feel so… off? They weren’t dating and he wasn't just her driver/bodyguard. Something was fishy about it and you had the right might to find out.

------

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Katie whispered as the two of you made it on foot around the block from where you parked to The Hideout entrance. The venue was situated in a part of down with very few street lights, and so the only illumination as you approached were two neon beer signs in each window and a soft green fluorescent glow coming from inside the door. You could hear the music clear as day from outside, the beat thudding in your chest. It was coming from a jukebox: Possum Kingdom by the Toadies.

You passed by a long row of motorcycles parked out front and you thought about the biker bar scene in Pee Wee Herman’s Big Adventure when he accidentally knocked all of the bikes over and it made you laugh and bite your lip.

“Make up your mind,

and I’ll promise you

I will treat you well,

my sweet angel…”

Once the cloud of cigarette smoke cleared, you could see the stage in the back was empty, and you didn’t see Eddie.

To the right was a bar with a bunch of pull tabs in plastic boxes on the wall and three guys with beards wearing leather biker cuts, sat nursing their drinks.

“Do you see him?” Katie had her arm interlocked with yours now and she elbowed your ribs. She knew what he looked like from the few times she bought weed from him, but that felt like a bazillion years ago.

You shook your head, looking for a place to sit.

“Give it up to me

do you want to

be my angel?

So help me..”

That was when you felt a warm body come up behind you, breaching the wall of your invisible bubble, and you were about to kick whoever it was in the shin when you heard his voice in your ear:

“Now, you’re on my turf,” Eddie said. He took two long strides until he was in front of the two of you, and then he cocked one eyebrow up.

“This whole turf thing is getting serious,” you made eye contact with him and tilted your head. “We probably need to have some kind of dance off to settle it.”

He just licked his lips and made those familiar quotations show up on either side of his mouth, as if to announce that his lips were a statement in themselves.

Turns out, Eddie’s band Corroded Coffin wasn’t able to perform that night because their drummer broke his foot in a motorcycle accident.

“He’s loaded up on pain pills, he’ll be fine,” Eddie assured you after seeing the horrified look on your face. “We have someone who usually fills in, but he wasn’t available either.”

“So it’s just been me and my buddy Steve here hanging out,” Eddie finished. “I didn’t have you number, so I thought I’d just wait and see.”

Eddie was starting to make you feel a certain type of way, like when you put a chocolate chip cookie in the microwave for the perfect amount of time and it melts in your mouth.

“What do we have here?” A guy came up next to Eddie, and he had a thick head of dark hair with eyes all brown and pretty just like Eddie's. When he smiled, you could see that his right incisor was a gold tooth. He also had a leather biker kutte, or cut, on like the guys at the bar, there was a big tattoo on the side of his neck.

You felt Katie stiffen at your side. You had already made the introductions between her and Eddie, and they remembered each other, but now this guy was staring over at her with a certain level of elevated interest.

“Ladies,” Eddie gestured to the guy with the tattooed neck. “This is my buddy Steve. Steve, this is Y/N and her roommate Christie.”

“Katie,” she corrected. "Gosh, Munson, my feelings are hurt. How many times did we get stoned together back in the day?"

“Right, Katie, that’s what I meant.”

“Katie.” Steve Harrington repeated her name, blinking his big doe eyes, seemingly oblivious to everyone else in the room. He had a natural charisma and magnetism about him that was undeniable.

You could feel Katie’s skin getting hot. She was naturally funny and talkative, but she was suddenly retreating into her mute phase.

The boys invited you over to their table, and Katie made wide eyes at you as you went, wordlessly announcing that she thought Steve was hot. The next song on the jukebox started: You Could Be Mine by Guns n’ Roses, and that was when all hell broke loose.

Steve was about to reach the table when a big guy coming in the other direction shoulder checked him, knocking his arm back. You grabbed onto Katie and the two of you froze as Steve and the guy exchanged a few intense words. Eddie stepped in between with his back to you, acting as a shield for both of you in case it escalated.

“Get over it, man, that was fucking years ago,” Steve spat, standing his ground as the two had a bit of a stare-off.

The guy confronting Steve was maybe the same age, but he had more of a “clean cut” look so to speak, like he still clung to his glory days of being the captain of the football team in high school and tried to make it his whole personality. He was clearly wasted and stumbling on his feet a bit. You couldn’t understand what the whole thing was about, but it sounded like Steve might’ve had sex with the other guy’s girl at one point.

“Wrap it up, kids,” Eddie stepped forward. “We’ve got ladies present.”

The guy confronting Steve snapped a look at Eddie, and then his eyes landed on you and Katie, and he snorted.

“If they’re with you two, they’re not ladies. They’re nothing but cock sucking whores.”

Both you and Katie opened your mouths, shocked at the vitriol directed at the two of you for absolutely no reason, but as you were trying to understand why he said it, you noticed Eddies hands turn to fists at his sides.

“Someone needs to shut your mouth, it might as well be me,” and then Eddie swung at him, connecting his metal rings to the side of the guy’s face with a crunch of cartilage and bone. Katie yelped and stumbled back, taking you with her.

The guy Eddie punched recovered, his face already bleeding, and he lurched forward with an animalistic yowl, a long arm punch connecting with Eddie’s chin. Steve pushed the guy back, tackling him to the ground, wailing on his face with his fists as he went and people scattered. A wooden chair broke their fall and the arm rest splintered off.

The clean cut guy had two other friends, and they were both headed over to join in.

Eddie turned to you, his lip bleeding, piece of hair sticking to his cheek, his eyes wild. “Run! Get out of here!”

You didn’t want to leave him in that mess, but Katie was shouting your name and pulling at your arm, and the last thing you saw over your shoulder was one of the other friends try to swing on Eddie, but Eddie grabbed the guy and threw him to the ground.

“I’m too old for this, I’m too old for this!” Katie was repeating as you both raced to her car. She fumbled her keys twice. Just as she unlocked your door from the inside, you heard the sirens closing in: the cops were on their way.

You couldn’t let Eddie and Steve go to jail for defending you.

“Go around front,” you shouted as you slammed your door. “We need to get pick them up.”

“We need to WHAT?” Katie blanched, muttering to herself as she shifted into reverse. “I knew I should’ve never woken up from that nap.”

Her tires squealed as she rounded the corner, adrenaline rushing though both of you, your hearts racing. You rolled down the window as she screeched to a stop in front of the entrance. You couldn’t see Eddie, but you screamed for him, and you told Katie to honk the horn.

The sirens were getting closer.

That was when Eddie and Steve stumbled out of the door with a few other patrons, both with bloody lips and hands. You could tell by their faces that they hadn’t expected to see you there, but they were grateful. Speeding away on a motorcycle was not ideal in that moment, because two cop cars were already fishtailing around the corner, headed in that direction.

“GET IN!” You yelled, and the two of them realized in a split second they had no choice but to obey. Steve dove into the back seat first, followed by Eddie, and then you were shouting, “Gogogogogogo,” to Katie as she floored the gas and cursed you, saying she’d never go anywhere with you ever again.

Part 2.5

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter eleven: star-spangled eyes

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.9k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, ESTABLISHED relationship FINALLY, spanish cause joel is latino, unprotected p in v, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft (and soft dom) joel, possessive joel, mentions of depression and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, angst, MAJOR doubt! and displays of nationalism! yay!

a/n: thank you as always to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, seriously i can't write without you so don't ever leave me pls. also thank you all for being so patient with this chapter while i was away! enjoy xxx

“Morning, Millers! Happy Fourth!” Your dad’s voice booms in your ear from where he stands behind you at the garage door, waving to the three Millers as they walk over to your driveway. “Y’all ready for a day on the lake?”

“Sure are. Thanks again for invitin’ us, can we pack up the cooler and everything in my truck? Might make it easier to access since you’ve got the boat hitched up here.” Joel glances your way, the slightest curve of his mouth when you catch his stare, turning toward your dad.

“Well, that’d be just great! We’ve got a couple more bags inside, but think you can take care of these things for now?” Your dad gestures to the things behind you both, clapping his hands when Joel confirms and steps forward to grab the supplies. Slipping back into the house to help your mom with last-minute prep, your dad leaves you with the Miller crew outside.

“Long time, no see, Posey.” Tommy teases as he grabs a tote from his older brother as Joel gives him a glare, earning a smile and shrug from you. “Definitely didn’t hear you sneaking out the kitchen door this mornin’ from my place sleeping on the couch.”

“Get all of that out now before we’re constantly around my parents all day, Thomas.” Joel straightens up at the slightest edge of your voice, masked with teasing as he walks away from you standing with Tommy, grumbling to himself as he goes to load everything for the festivities into his truck.

“Yeesh, somebody’s in a mood. Sometimes he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, but you probably know that.” Tommy hikes the bag onto his shoulder further, grimacing slightly with a familiar furrowed brow — you can see even more of the resemblance with that.

“I’ve seen him crabby, but it’s honestly been pretty rare. He was fine this morning.” Watching from your driveway, Joel’s shoulders move underneath the navy t-shirt he’s got on, lifting everything into the bed of his truck. Tommy follows over there, loading up the rest of the things that your dad brings out from the house. You pick up one tote, Joel approaching behind you and skimming a hand over your lower back.

“I can take that, sweetheart.” He holds a hand out at your side, giving you a tight lip smile as you nod and stutter out an agreement, handing the bag over to him. Your parents walk outside at that moment, your mom rifling through her purse while your dad calls into the house for your brother, Chris, before shutting the door.

“Everyone ready to go?” Your mom looks up, meeting your eyes as Joel gives her a nod and a smile, walking over to his truck to get Sarah in. “Oh gosh, we really overpacked, didn’t we?”

“You always pack for the boat as if we’re going on a sailing trip out to the Gulf. But at least we’ll be prepared,” you say with a laugh, adjusting the strap of your swimsuit underneath your cover-up dress, turning around, and exchanging another look with Joel as he climbs into his car.

There’s the smallest flash of those ‘what ifs’ that plagued your mind a few nights ago, tamped down for the last few days. You clear your throat of the acidic burn, climbing into the back of your dad’s truck and watching Chris shuffle out of the house still half asleep, climbing in next to you with a mumbled greeting.

After you ignore it, he asks, “What the hell has you in a mood?”

If only you could say something.

You climb out of the back of your dad’s truck once you reach the docks, making your way over to Joel’s truck parked in the lot to help unload while your dad and Chris drop the boat in. Sidling up to him at the back of the cab, you reach for your personal bag that you packed with your things like a book and extra sunscreen and a change of clothes. His hand intercepts yours, looking at you with one side of his mouth lifted.

“I got it for you, Mari. D’you mind walkin’ with Sarah?” He nods to where she’s stood on the sidewalk nearby, observing all of the boats in the small lakeside harbor. Glancing back at Joel, you give him a gentle smile, reaching to give his arm a squeeze.

“Thanks, J. I’ll take Sarah down there. You sure you and Tommy don’t need any help?” You suspiciously eye the amount of stuff occupying the truck bed, quirking a brow at him.

“Positive, darlin’. Y’all head down there, we’ll be right behind you both.” He leans in a few inches as if he’s going to kiss you, halting in his movements and letting out a barely audible sigh before straightening up again and looping a few more bags onto his arms. Your stomach flips around with the need to complete his motions, to close the gap that was there between you, but you respect the boundaries he wants to keep around your family, instead walking over to Sarah and taking her hand. 

Guiding her down the winding path, she tells you all about how excited she is to go swimming and to see the fireworks later, swinging your joined hands. You stop at the end of the dock, waiting as your dad and Chris pull around to where you and your mom are; Joel and Tommy come up behind you with all the goods, loading them onto the boat with your dad and Chris when they come around. Tommy hops on after swinging the cooler over the side, Joel stepping down after. Your dad offers your mom a hand while Joel picks up Sarah easily and sets her down, reaching a hand out to you afterward.

Gingerly taking it, you swing one foot onto the seat, bringing the other over and tripping a bit. You sway back and forth, a heavy hand tightly gripping your side to steady you.

“Y’alright? Nearly fell in there, sweetheart.”

Nodding and taking a breath, Joel drops his hand from you and helps you the rest of the way down and onto the seat. Your mom digs out a child’s life jacket from one of the storage compartments, passing it to you.

“D’you mind getting that on Sarah, honey? She’s gotta wear it to stay safe. Too many nutcases out on the water today.”

You call Sarah over, smiling as she stands in front of you and explaining that she has to keep this on while everyone’s on the boat. Easily slipping her arms in, you close it in front of her chest, clipping and securing the clips one at a time. Joel sits next to you, a few more inches apart than normal, patting Sarah’s curls and giving you a sideways glance.

“You wanna sit here between us, mija?” Joel pats the spot, helping Sarah scoot back onto the bench. He stretches his arm behind her, grazing your arm and brushing his fingers against the knit material of your cover-up. Joel relaxes for the first time all morning, content to stay like this all day if it was his choice. Both of his girls next to him, as close as he can get to you without breaking the boundaries he set himself.

With everyone seated, your dad at the helm, the boat lurches to life when the engines turnover and it idly cruises out of the harbor area before picking up speed to drive around the lake for a bit. The wind blows against all of you, Sarah giggling at the excitement of the ride. You turn to look at her, beaming a smile as she holds onto your arm. Joel watches the small interaction, his heart pumping the subtlest bit harder in his chest.

You’re so patient with Sarah, so kind, compassionate, silly, and serious — you’re exactly what she needs right now, what she’s missing that Joel can’t quite ever be no matter how hard he tries.

The words burn into his mind, sitting in his throat where he holds it back on his tongue. Later. He can say it later. At some point.

After a few laps and weaves around the lake, your dad idles the boat up to a cluster of fellow lake-goers, dropping the anchor and turning off the engines. Everyone shuffled around, Sarah popping up and asking to go in the water straight away.

“Gotta put some sunscreen on ya first, Bug. How about we do that, wait a few minutes for it to dry and you can drink some water and then go swimming?” Joel stands up, glancing around for their own bag they packed. You’re still seated, sorting through your own tote and pulling out your sunscreen.

“Here, use mine. Sure we’ll find your bag in a minute but don’t think Sare-Bear here wants to wait any longer than she has to for swimming.” You smile at her before handing the tube off to Joel, a quiet “thanks” in response. He gets some on Sarah, asking her to sit and wait for it to dry before handing the lotion back to you. Joel steps around you to find their bag on the other end of the boat, walking back over with spray sunscreen and stripping off his shirt to apply some himself.

Stealing glances at you, his mouth dries out when he watches you peel off the cover-up, setting it aside and leaving you clad in your bikini. The sight of you applying the sunscreen sends him back to that first summer, the view from his window into yours of you naked and applying body lotion — a show only for him. He swallows hard and shakes himself out of his thoughts, ignoring you off to his side until he hears you speak up.

“Hey, Tommy, d’you mind gettin’ my back for me since you’re waitin’ on the sunscreen from Joel?” He watches you cross over to Tommy before he can call out a protest, the words dying in his throat when he knows he doesn’t have any claim over you today. Tommy shrugs at Joel, helping you out while he watches on enviously.

Huffing out a sigh, he finishes his own application, throwing the bottle back in the bag and sitting back down in the sun. He slips his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose from the top of his head, closing his eyes and basking in some of the warmth before Sarah begs to get into the water.

Joel hears you mumble a curse under your breath, feeling your presence next to him. Tilting his head down and opening his eyes again, he glances at you sideways and questions, “Something wrong?”

“I stupidly left my sunglasses in the car. I set them down next to my bag instead of putting them inside of it,” you sigh and look around the boat in hopes that some sort of idea pops into your head. Joel reaches up, takes off his own pair of glasses, and hands them to you.

“Here, y’can borrow mine. Won’t need them in the water with Sarah anyway, just gonna lose ‘em if I wear them in the lake.” He gives you a shrug and a thoughtful smile, your fingers brushing his when you exchange the sunglasses. Your own smile that you give him flips his insides, a knowing look shared that says ‘I’d kiss you right now if I could’.

And he desperately wants to.

“Thanks, J—oel. Joel,” you catch yourself with the affectionate nickname, stuttering out the rest of his name and making him chuckle as he stands up.

“Anytime.” A flash of a wink nearly makes you stutter again, slipping the glasses on as Joel, Sarah, Tommy, and Chris all get in the water to cool off from the already blazing heat.

About a half hour later, Joel and Tommy rumble up the ladder back onto the boat, leaving Chris in charge of entertaining Sarah by spinning her in the inner tube that’s been inflated. The Millers measly dry off before Tommy wanders over to the cooler. Joel steps over to where you’re lying out on the bench, shaking his curls out over you with your eyes closed behind his sunglasses. The cool water drips over you, opening your eyes in a flash and sitting up.

“Rude,” you mumble as you wipe the drips of water and Joel sits next to you where your thighs once were. He chuckles and shrugs casually, leaning back against the side of the boat and propping his elbows up behind him. He’s sitting only a few inches away, and with your parents sitting and chatting at the other end, they don’t hear as he leans in and speaks low to you.

“Y’looked hot. I was only tryin’ to cool you down.” He winks and smirks smugly, dragging his eyes up and down your body when you stand and patter over to the cooler where Tommy’s retrieved a beer from.

“You want a drink, Joel?” you ask over your shoulder, nodding in confirmation when he says yes.

“Probably should get some water as well. You, too. Gotta stay hydrated in the heat.”

“Hm, guess so.” You grab a plastic bottle and turn around, lobbing it to him to catch. You pick up another for yourself, grabbing a can of beer for Joel and a popsicle for you. As you turn around with your pickings, you take the beer can in one hand, heading straight on for Joel and press it into your skin against your sternum, sighing a bit extra as the icy cold aluminum sits against your sun-warmed body.

Dragging it across, the condensation drips across your body, dropping the can down in between your breasts as you stand with your back to your parents. Another sigh breathed directly towards Joel, the slightest pitch change up at the end indetectable to Tommy across the boat but unignorable for Joel.

He clears his throat, taking the can from you gingerly as you hold it out for him, equally as smug of a smirk on your face. You take your seat next to him again, setting your water bottle to the side of you and unwrapping the popsicle as Joel cracks his beer and takes a sip.

“Lucky it’s still cold,” he grumbles under his breath, making you laugh quietly and a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Between your thumb and index, you grip the wooden stick of the red, white, and blue rocket pop, bringing it up to your lips and starting to lick it as you make conservation with Tommy, a thought popping into your head as ‘Fortunate Son’ by Creedence Clearwater Revival starts playing over the boat’s speakers.

“D’you get a lot of people thanking you for your service when they find out you were in the army, Tommy?”

“Eh, some really. Fellow veterans really don’t, and I don’t care to mention it that much to people. Most they notice is the sticker on my car in like the grocery store parking lots and they’ll say it quickly or give me a nod,” he shrugs and waves the question off, “Plus, you definitely don’t get people saying it to me on the Fourth. People gettin’ too drunk outta their minds in the name of their freedom.”

“Well, if no one else says it today, then thanks, Tommy. War is the stupidest thing man invented, but m’glad you made it home safe.”

Tommy holds up his can of beer and tips it toward you while you pop the icy, sugary treat out of your lips and hold it up with a laugh.

“Cheers,” he says with a smile.

Joel merely listened to you two the whole time, chatting back and forth while Tommy pounds his beer and tossed it into the recycling bag before jumping back into the lake. You’ve still got your popsicle, sliding it between your lips absentmindedly next to Joel, who keeps glancing to the side as you.

At the next, admittedly overdramatized, suck of popsicle between your lips, slurping the sugary juice before a drip slips out of the corner of your mouth. You wipe it up with your thumb, about to turn to Joel to ask if you’ve got food coloring on your face when he shifts next to you, one hand attempting to adjust himself before he grumbles a few curses and stands up. The water and beer are left ignored in cup holders, the small, subtle bulge in his trunks giving you a smirk that you bite back as he stomps over to the side of the boat and jumps in to cool off.

Throwing out the popsicle stick, you drink some of your water before meandering over to the side of the boat and climbing down the ladder and into the lake water. An instant chill is spread across your body, relaxing your muscles and washing off the slight sweat that built up under the blazing sun. Paddling over to the rest of the group in the water, you exchange a quick look with Joel before Sarah and Chris pull you into some sort of game. Twenty minutes go by before Sarah gets bored of the water, hungry and thirsty, and when Joel moves to help her out of the water and onto the boat, Tommy offers to get out with her to have another beer and some snacks himself. Chris gets out along with them, leaving you and Joel alone in the water.

He swims over to where you’re treading water, a soft, friendly smile on his face. “Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

A wider grin spreads across his lips, swimming away for a moment to fetch the inner tube that Sarah was using bringing it over and slipping it over your head. A laugh leaves your lips when you can’t see over it for a moment, pushing the tube down and climbing onto the side to lean on it. You float above Joel’s eyeline, his neck slightly tilted to look into your eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

“You look nice today, darlin’,” he hums and treads water in front of you, reaching out a hand underwater and toying with the material of your swimsuit at your hip.

“Only nice?” you tease, leaning over the side of the inner tube a bit more, biting your bottom lip.

“Well, I could say more but probably don’t want my thoughts overheard,” he mirrors your smirk and snaps the elastic of the swimsuit against your skin, fingertips trailing down your thighs, “You do look more than nice though. You look beautiful. S’a pretty swimsuit and, uh, that dress thing—”

“My cover-up?”

“Yeah, yeah. I like your cover-up. It’s nice. A shame it covers up all this, but y’know you still look gorgeous either way.” He gives you a wink and squeezes one of your thighs.

“Thanks, J. You look pretty, too. But you always look pretty — got your curls and your tanned skin and broad shoulders and big brown eyes,” you giggle quietly as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head bashfully.

“You’re always pretty, too, Mari. You always look beautiful. La mujer más hermosa del mundo (The most beautiful woman in the world).”

It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you look at each other, silently admiring before you break first, your voice covered by all the commotion of the lake around you but audible to Joel right in front of you. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

His shoulders sag underwater and his brow creases subtly, bottom lip pouting, “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay, J. Wasn’t a good time to tell them. Later, right?” You give a sad smile that he returns, squeezing his hands against your thighs with a short nod.

“Later.”

After floating around and chatting with Joel until you were turning pruney and nearly falling asleep in the water, he pushes the inner tube toward the boat and follows behind you to get back.

“Y’need to get some water and somethin’ to eat, sweetheart. Probably dehydrated at this rate cause you look like you’re about to pass out.” Joel pats the tube with his hand to silently ask you to get out to go up the ladder.

“M’just sleepy, the sun feels warm. Like a cat, jus’ wanna nap in the sunlight,” you mumble out, stretching your arms up and your legs toward Joel underwater, pointed toes hitting his thighs. He grabs you by the ankles, tugging a bit to move you closer before he nods to the blown-up floaty.

“Maybe so, but you still haven’t had any water for at least an hour and you haven’t had anything to eat besides the popsicle. Let’s go up, Mariposa.” His voice is decided — filled with care and not control. It compels you to follow what he says, slipping the tube over your head and wading over to the ladder. Joel follows you out, dripping on the boat and grabbing his towel as your brother tosses yours from the bench.

Drying off and wrapping your towel around you, drops of water trail off of you all the way to the seat where you plop down next to Tommy. Joel heads to the cooler, grabbing out water for both of you. He asks around if anyone else wants one, getting a few hollered answers as he throws them all around. When he returns to sit down again, he hands you yours along with a snack — one of the Tupperware filled with some chopped fruit. Sarah wanders over when you open it, standing in front of you to share. Joel throws the bottle of sunscreen over to you, asking to reapply for Sarah and reminding you to do it for yourself. 

“Alright, everybody, heads up. The plan right now is to move the boat and park up by a friend of ours’ house on the lake here. And there we’ll grill out and have some dinner and then come back onto the boat for fireworks before headin’ home,” your dad explains as he moves back into the driving seat, “Sound alright for y’all?”

Everyone’s in agreement, kicking it into gear as you let Sarah next to you to continue sharing the snack while your dad lifts the anchor. Holding onto her while you ride over, Joel takes in the sight of you two across from him, a steady flap of butterfly wings smack dab in the middle of his chest.

Su Mariposa y su mariposita. His butterfly and his little butterfly — his Bug. His girls.

He finds himself thanking the universe for leading him to someone as nurturing and patient and kind as you to love. A lonely road ending with you.

It’s a thought he continues to have throughout the rest of the evening, small moments that he sees of you with his daughter, his brother, your own family and friends. Effortless. You make it all seem so effortless and natural, but Joel knows how much energy a day like today will take from you; from your spirit. He can’t claim to know exactly what’s on your mind, but all he can do is fight the urge to blurt out a loud ‘thank you’ in the middle of the lawn.

Even through everything, you have a smile on your face for him and your loved ones. You’re strong, perseverant. Someone he looks up to, and hopes that you can be that type of role model for his daughter. Not perfect, not idolized. Real.

“She’s just completely enamored with Sarah, isn’t she?” your mom’s voice pulls Joel out of his thoughts, realizing his eyes were trained in you and Sarah as you help her make a plate for dinner from the large spread on the deck tables. Joel looks up to his left, a gentle and sheepish smile on his face as he nods slowly.

“She’s great with Sarah. Has been since that first summer. I think Sarah has way more fun with her and listens to her way more than she does me,” Joel chuckles softly and your mom laughs with a nod.

“That’s how it always is. The kids always loved their babysitters and looked up to them in a different sort of way. We were lucky to have the sitters we did to help raise the kids right, y’know?”

“I do know. Feel the same way since we moved in next door. The whole family’s been a real help—“

“But there’s just something about her, isn’t there?”

“Exactly. Can’t quite put my finger on it. But there’s something special there. Maybe she should consider it for a career, nannying I mean. Always seemed to be happy with Sarah during the summer.” Both sets of eyes are still on you across the way, focused on Sarah and guiding her through the muck of people to keep her from getting overwhelmed.

“I think there might be something just special there. In all of her babysitting and nannying years, can’t say she’s had as much fun as she did with Sarah.”

“Guess I should thank you for volunteering her that first summer. Probably the best recommendation I’ve gotten from a neighbor,” Joel laughs to himself, shaking his head subtly as he thinks of all the time you two have had together over the years.

“Thank me later, how about that? End of this summer, you can thank me for getting her to do what she was too chicken to do,” your mom laughs quietly, “Talking to the new neighbor and getting a job.”

“Uh, yeah, alright.” Your mom shares a smile with Joel before walking off to chat to some friends, leaving Joel to wonder what she meant by that exactly.

Back onto the boat after dinner with the larger party, your family and the Millers caravanned into the middle of the lake with a bunch of other boaters, dropping anchor in the cluster.

There is a platform in the middle of the lake, installed there with taut chains to the bottom where the same family lights off an impressive fireworks display every year. Helping your mom hand around the last bit of drink and some cookies for dessert, you finally are able to snag a spot by Sarah and Joel on the other side of her. Once you get settled, Sarah looks over at you with her sun-kissed face and big brown eyes just like her dad’s. Wordlessly, she scoots closer to you before deciding to simply climb onto your lap, you accepting her company with open arms.

“You comfy?” you wrap your arms around to hug her to your chest and keep her on your thighs, smiling as she nods with a quiet yawn. Her head leans back on your shoulder, one of your hands coming up to run your fingers through her curls.

Joel slides over a few inches, a hand’s width away from you, relaxing with you close by. The sight of Sarah so comfortable with you, and you her, brings back those butterfly wings stronger than before. What he would give to be able to put his arm around you and give you a kiss — to have his little unit of three together.

Damn, maybe he should have said something to your parents…

No, no. This was the smart choice. It’s the smart choice to keep it this way around them until things are certain. He’s all in for you, but there is still a small whispering of doubt that he feels every once in a while.

Are you going to resent him at any point? Will you want to leave again at the end of summer, to leave him behind and continue your life somewhere else? He knows you care about him, he knows how much you care about Sarah. But does he rely too much on you? Is it too much to sign up to be with him and also sign up to have a daughter along with it all?

Every time he thinks about telling your family, all he can imagine is the worst scenario. Disowning, no contact, moving. Joel’s insecurities fester in these imaginings, finding out how to make every new thought worse than the last.

It’s not fair to you, he knows that. But he needs time. Time to find the right words, to make the right promises.

A small, pathetic pop of a firecracker grabs everyone’s attention, the fizzle of the main display filling the air. Sarah sits up in your lap, eyes turned up along with yours as the fireworks start to go, drowning out whatever you’re saying to her as you point and smile widely. The reflection of the lights dissipates in your eyes each time, short explosions fading out to the night sky again.

Joel seems to be the only one with his gaze turned away from the opening in the clouds, a thought flashing into his head like one of the fireworks before he acts on it. Fingers brush your hip, catching on the open-knit and your head turns to face him, the same smile you had with Sarah still on your face. He leans in behind her head, his nose brushes against yours before he kisses you — soft and delicate and not nearly enough for what he needs in the moment but it satiates something for him.

You’re smiling against his lips, stealing one last quick peck before pulling back, the same wide grin from before spread across your cheeks as you whisper to him.

“Naughty.”

“Yeah, well, you’re to blame for it with the teasing all day. Better be coming over tonight after all of that,” Joel responds back, the noise drowned to everyone else on the boat by the repeated launches of large fireworks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, J. I thought I was being peaceful and relaxed all day.”

At that you turn your head up again, listening to Sarah as she talks about the bursting lights and starts pointing at all of the cool moments again. Joel continues to watch you fall back into the moment with her, he content with being an observer — and for giving you a tiny token of all that he’s been feeling today.

But damn is he eager to get you alone.

It was a long while to get home and get everything unpacked from the car and into the garage, but you’ve finally managed to shower and change; behind you, you slowly pull the sliding glass door closed to your basement studio, wandering across your backyard and into Joel’s to his backdoor.

Knocking lightly, it isn’t long before the door opens, and Joel’s hands find your waist to tug you inside, tripping over your feet across the threshold.

“Hey, J—” Your words are cut off by his lips on yours, a heavy kiss enveloping your breath while your hands search across his arms and up to his chest. Returning his kiss gives more energy behind his movements, fingers digging into your hips and directing you backward until your lower back hits the edge of the kitchen counter. There’s a split second that he pulls away to help you up onto the surface, his large frame leaning in again to catch your lips with his.

Pressure at his chest from your palms keeps him a few inches away from your face, eyes meeting his as your breaths recover shallowly.

“What a greeting,” you laugh, voice hoarse as you keep your volume low.

“Missed bein’ able to kiss you, Mari. Holdin’ you. And you were such a fucking tease all day, darlin’,” he rasps out, brow creased as he holds your gaze.

“Was not.”

“Was too, Mari.” Joel slips his hands into the bend of your legs, spreading them apart to step between them. He pulls you further to the edge pressing his bulge into your thigh as he sighs, letting his breath fan over your face, “Feel what you do to me, pretty girl? Been wanting you all day. Need you so bad, Mariposa.”

Your own sigh matches his, eyes closing for a moment as he starts to grind against your clothed center, stuttering out a response, “Cou—Could’ve touched me today. Maybe we should’ve snuck off at the barbecue…”

Both of you chuckle, Joel’s much darker than yours, “Don’t tell me that now, baby. You’ve got no idea what I would’ve done to you if we had a second alone.”

“We’re alone now. Show me what you would’ve done.”

“Yeah? You wanna know?” His parted mouth trails warm breath against your skin, his nose ghosting against your cheek before he presses kisses into your jawline.

“Please, J,” you whine, mouth right against his ear as he leans over to kiss your neck. One hand tangles into the curls at the nape of his neck, damp from the shower that you can smell on him — the sandalwood musk scent of his body wash. A deep breath of the scent races your heart along with his wandering hands, him standing fully in front of you again.

“Gonna have to be quiet, baby. Have a full house tonight. Silent, got it?”

All you do is nod in response, holding his head as you close the gap between you two with fervor. Joel rumbles out a moan into your mouth, tugging you close and off the counter, his impatience reeling after the day.

Fumbling around with cheeky grabs and gropes over each other, you get turned to face the counter and Joel’s hands hook into your waistband — sleep short and panties — to tug them down just enough to drop them down your legs and let you step one foot out. He pulls himself free from his shorts and boxers, a handful of your ass in his palm as he quietly moans to himself. One swipe of his fingers through your folds tells him exactly how much you want him, devilish smirk crossing his face.

“Felt like this the whole day, pretty girl? Must’ve been so needy, Mari. Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. Déjame cuidarte, cariño. Déjame sentirte. (Let me take care of you, darling. Let me feel you.)”

“Please, please, J—“

“Shh. S’alright, sweet Mari. Think you can take me, want to take my cock like the good girl you are?” He questions you in a raspy whisper, taking himself in one hand and guiding the head of his cock through your wetness.

“Fuck…” you draw out quietly, nodding quickly as you look over your shoulder at him, “I can take it, please give it to me.”

“Pretty girl jus’ begging for me, yeah? Got to be quiet,” Joel reminds you before he lines himself up, slowly opening you up with his cock. The stretch is painful at first, whimpers echoing in your closed mouth while you grip the counter’s edge and bite the inside of your cheek.

With slow, shallow thrusts at first, Joel works you to relax around him, nodding to himself when he sees your shoulder relax and your head fall forward out of pleasure when he starts to pick up the pace behind you.

“That’s it, baby, such a good girl. Mi buena chica. Sabes cómo tomarlo, Mari. (My good girl. You know how to take it.)”

A moan slips from your lips and cuts through the relative silence, your head snapping over your shoulder to Joel. He shakes his head, sliding one hand up your side to hold around your mouth, covering up any more noises and giving him leverage to arch your back for him as he fucks you harder.

“Shit, pretty girl, not gonna last—Fuck, muy apretado y mojado. (Fuck, so tight and wet.)” You nod behind Joel’s hand, gripping his wrist when his free hand reaches for your clit, rubbing hurried circles that push you to the edge further, teetering there while his hips hit into you harder and brush your g-spot. Feeling yourself clench around his cock, you move your own hips to meet his thrusts, eyes rolling back as the top of him hits your g-spot square on.

“That’s right, my girl, can feel how close you are. Give it to me, baby, please—“ A vibrating moan interrupts his rambling thoughts when you come, walls gripping around him and fluttering inside. Your own noises are stifled by his palm, body limping in his hold while he rocks his hips as deep as possible and ropes of his come fill you up. “Such a good girl, goddamn…”

Breathless, he holds you up and presses you against the counter as he hunches over your body from behind. Using whatever energy is left in him, Joel peppers your neck and profile in lazy kisses, lingering around your ear.

“Love you, Mari.”

Once you’ve both recovered enough from the quick, hasty fuck, limbs regaining their abilities to move, Joel leads you up to bed and drags you under the covers. The two of you chat about the day and plans for the rest of summer while he lays his head on your chest, eyes closing while you run your fingers through his hair. Index twirls some of the rare ringlets, nails scratching his scalp soothingly.

In a few moments of you talking to him about bringing Sarah to the aquarium, his breaths have leveled out and his lips have parted, a large muscular build curled around you sleeping. It’s a few moments that you steal while continuing to play with his hair, admiring how young and boyish he looks. The perpetually creased brow of his has relaxed, his parted lips giving him the slightest of pouts.

Joel, your strong, independent, capable, protective, caring, loving man, is still a boy at times. When you feel young around him, you know you’ll think back to this moment — when you realized he’s just as much in the ‘figuring how all this shit works out’ stage. Permanently.

The last two or so years have been filled with moments that it seems that you took what Joel had to think or say as written in stone; his confidence and decisiveness was something you were envious of at times. But it also meant that all those times, even if he knew what he was doing, he was still a young boy, a teenager, a man, all the ones in between — figuring it out. Wondering if the choices were right. If it would all work out in the end.

That first summer, when you fell completely in love and let him know before you were leaving for nearly a year. It was genuine, of course, but it was naive. Thinking about long distance, a single father trying to make that work. It probably scared him at the time, and was too much to attempt to work with.

And the next summer, when he had his time to figure out what he was feeling. His confession of love that had your heart in your throat, terrified to admit anything close to the feeling before you were thousands of miles away. The feeling was there, it was always there. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it back, to open up for the pain you felt the year prior.

His denial of you, yours of him — looking back, you can’t blame Joel for these hiccups, just like you can’t blame yourself. He was only trying to figure it out. It was all new to him, navigating a life with you in it was something he hadn’t had to do before, hadn’t imagined before.

You’re in the exact same state, each and every day. And it made you so afraid to be all in, the uncertainty of life blinding you to actually opening up.

Fingers have paused their movements in his hair, Joel stirring awake against your chest when your touch leaves him completely. His head is tilted to face you, masked in an expression that you can’t quite read. Comfortable, drowsy, affectionate. Half asleep, droopy eyes find your own, holding your gaze as he breaks the quiet and stillness of the bedroom with a gravelly voice.

“Was thinking about you in my sleep just now.”

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking about, baby?”

“How you’re my best friend.” The arm slung around your middle tightens as a goofy smile finds its way to his lips. “D’you know that, Mari?”

Looking at him, in that simple moment, a realization dawned on you as if it was the most obvious discovery.

He’s the only one you want to be figuring it out with.

“I love you, Joel.”

It comes out meeker than you wanted for this first-second time around, almost inaudible if it weren’t for the complete and utter quiet of the early morning hours.

A dreamy but wide grin stretches across his face, waking him up a bit more in the moment. He picks up his head from your chest, sitting up a few inches to look you properly in the eyes as he asks, “Yeah?”

“Mhm, I love you,” you can barely get it out without a happy giggle tagging on the end, barely squeaking the last syllable out before Joel’s skittering kisses all over your face, that same wide grin on his lips.

“Say it again, please, Mari.”

“I love you, J. I’m so in love with you.”

His attack on your face and neck continues, his own chuckles mixing with your giggles, his arm tightening around you and fingers tickling your sides.

“Am I still asleep? Am I dreaming right now?” he questions, pausing his peppered kisses to give you a tender one on your lips, that same goofy grin knocking your teeth together.

Before you respond, or he asks for you to say it again, Joel takes a pause to look into your eyes head on. Silence overcomes the room again, goofy grin morphing into a sweet, softened smile of his. Disbelief painted across his face as he took you in, shaking his head.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre. I love you, Mari. Always.”

“I love you, Joel.”

Holding your eyes for a moment longer, there’s a shift in the air from the giddy confession. Joel inches down, connecting your lips in a ghosting kiss, your lips following his to feel more. After a beat, the kiss heats up, slow and sensual. His hands roam your sides, hiking up the material of your sleep shirt and pressing his palm against your exposed skin.

There’s no break in the embrace, only pushing further to feel each other closer and constant. The slight lack of oxygen, the breathlessness of it all, is making your head airy and dizzy, limbs tingling with electricity when you slip your fingers under the collar of his t-shirt. In the moment, you could drown in the feeling of Joel’s lips against yours.

The only breaths you get are when he separates from your lips to pull your shirt over your head and then follows it with his own, easily sipping your elastic waistbands down your legs again. You kick off the material from your ankles while he strips out of his own shorts and boxers, messy kisses shared while your hands skate over his bare skin. Fingertips work to memorize the dips and peaks, the trail of hair from his belly button down. Joel’s own hands explore your curves, relishing in the softness of your skin.

He pulls away from your mouth, breathless and blown pupils before he rasps out, “I love you so much, Mariposa. Got no clue who I’d be if I didn’t meet you…You’re it for me.”

Your voice is thick with emotion, one hand tangling your fingers with the hair at the back of his head, “I love you, J. It’s only you, s’always been you.”

Joel’s hand lifts one of your legs to bend next to his hip, lining himself at your entrance before he slowly thrusts in, savoring the feeling of you around him, body pressed against his skin in every place possible. Airy moans muffle into and against each other’s lips as he fills you up, the rhythm of his movements languid and steady. The pace is reeling your brain into a building of pleasure, whispers from Joel adding to the euphoric adoration between the two of you.

“My beautiful girl, so perfect. Love everything about you, sweet girl. M’so lucky to have you…Mine forever, right Mari baby? Mi hermosa, mi amor. I love you, fuck, I love you so much, Mari. Always got me feeling like m’floating around you, like I got a butterfly flapping it’s wings in my chest with how giddy you make me feel with just one look. Mi mariposa. My butterfly. Mine…”

The words are absorbing with each shallow breath you take, nodding along to his ramblings and feeling tears well against your waterline. Hands grip hard onto his shoulders, folding yourself around him tighter as you leave lingering kisses along his profile.

“Yours, J, yours always. I love you so fucking much—Oh my god, you’re everything to me, baby.”

“Never letting you go again. My girl, my fucking beautiful girl. Gonna make you mine forever, gonna make you my wife, mi esposa, one day, sweet, perfect girl. You’re made for me, Mari. Mi media naranja. (My other half.)”

His thrusts pick up only slightly, but enough to spill the tears waiting at the brink of your eyes, Joel’s mouth catching each one with featherlight kisses. Sitting right at the edge, your eyes lock with his, vision slightly blurred from the tears continuing to fall. Joel’s features fill the vignette, hooked nose, pillowy lips, soft brown eyes, olive skin sprinkled with crinkles around his eyes, subtle lines at his forehead. Nothing more beautiful to you than those parts making up the whole of him.

“Te amo, te amo, J. I love you, baby…”

His breath catches in his throat, smile spreading as his nose nudges against yours to speak against your lips.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Los amo a todos, cada poco. Eres todo lo que podría haber soñado y más (I love all of you, every bit. You're everything I could have ever dreamed of and more). I will spend every day earning your love and giving you all of mine.”

The words you understood have your frayed edges pulled taut, snapping one at a time as your brain floods with pleasure. Your walls flutter around his cock, your leg hooks into his ass to drive him further inside to fill you up. It is only a moment longer before he’s spilling into you, your name falling from his lips over and over as he searches for your lips in his state of ecstasy.

One last heavy kiss is shared before he slumps onto you, similar position to the start of all this; his head on your chest, strong form curled around you and his eyes closed. It last for a moment, your fingers playing with his hair, before he’s pushing himself up to hang over your torso, tender eyes studying your messy hair and blissed out face.

A smile crosses your lips, eyes sparkling even with the lights out in the room and the curtains only cracked apart to let moonlight stream in.

“Gonna make me your wife one day, huh?” you tease as you look up at him from your spot laying back on the mattress, crumpled sheet pulled over top of your naked body.

Joel rolls his eyes playfully, leaning over you and smiling, “As if you didn’t know that from the first time I spoke to you. Knew you were trouble from the start, just turned out to be the best kind of trouble.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras@bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @thereaperisabitch @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg

[fornshinoyaz]

HOW TO: LOSE FEELINGS FOR AN IDIOT

01. HOW TO: FORGET ABOUT A WITCH

series masterlist | previous | next chapter

wc: 4.2k

how to lose feelings for a CERTIFIED, government approved idiot. it should be easy right? wrong. you are absolutely, positively, done for. you have no idea why you’re writing the guide book when you can’t even get past the first step! first step, the only important step really: don’t have your best friend be kei tsukishima. then maybe, just maybe, you’d have a chance.

You were the go-to problem solver. The one with the all the answers. Someone’s cat died? You could help. Did you lose your job because of a stinky corporation? You could fix it. Your friend group of annoying volleyball boys were convinced, there wasn’t a problem you didn’t know how to solve.

But they were wrong. So so wrong. Because when it came to Kei Tsukishima?

Yeah, maybe you didn’t have all the answers.

Your best friend's ringtone yanks you from your sleep. You let out an exasperated sigh and begrudgingly answer the call, "Tsukki. I swear. This better be important or I’m going to kill you." You glance around your studio apartment, the world still hazy and unfocused around you.

"Did I wake you?" He asks.

"No shit sherlock," you grumble as you toss around in your covers, the warmth making you want to close your eyes again.

"Good. I'm not sorry."

"I know you're not, asshat. You know it’s my day off right? I want to sleep in for once," you say, trying to force back a yawn.

"I know."

The silence on the other side of the line really starts to piss you off. Did this man want anything or was he just being an asshole? While you enjoyed hearing his voice, you'd much rather hear it at a reasonable hour.

"Tsukki. say something or I'm-"

"She broke up with me,” he says, cutting you off.

You pause.

"What?" You ask again. Just to make sure you heard him correctly.

"I got dumped, Y/N. Over text."

You wince. Really? She couldn't even give him a call?

"Okay,” you sigh and lift out of bed, "I'll be there in 30."

And that's not a lie. You're dressed, ready to go, and in a taxi towards his apartment in 20 minutes and there in 10. You couldn’t say you were the biiiggeest fan of his ex-girlfriend. For obvious reasons. A small part of your heart cracked when he told you about her. It was a painful reminder that it would never be you.

The first time you met her, it was game night.

You came with Kageyama and Yamaguchi per usual. You carried the dip, they carried the chips. But when you three walked into his living room and found a woman - oh, you were sick to your stomach.

Kageyama gave you a look, that 'oh, damn, i know this shit sucks' look, while Yamaguchi tried his best to be friendly to her while checking up on you throughout the night.

It hurt. But you accepted her. Tsukki was your best friend. If he was happy, you were happy.

You thank the taxi driver and pay, before running up the steps of his apartment complex to the fourth floor. You had been there for several of your others friends during their breakups. Kageyama had been in the dumps. Asahi was even worse. But like always, you had all the solutions.

But when Tsukki opens the door, you're not sure what to say.

"Sorry...I got here... as fast...as I could," you say in-between breaths, struggling to catch your breath. Why did you run?

His eyes quickly scan you from top bottom. "I can tell. Your socks are mismatched. And is that my shirt?"

You insecurely cover yourself from his eyes. For someone whose suppose to be heartbroken, he had a lot to say.

"I hate to ask, but she really only sent you a text message? Like one?"

Tsukki nods. You shake your head, bewildered. Seven months and he only got a text?

"Did she say why?"

Tsukki's lips press together, and he shifts uncomfortably, "I never made time for her. Or something like that. I don't know."

"Oh."

You couldn't say you didn't see it coming. You knew from the moment you met her, it wasn't going to work. That wasn't your jealousy speaking. It was just the truth. But you didn’t have the heart to tell Tsukki that.

After all, he liked her. Was it your place to interfere? Maybe, but you wouldn't. It wasn’t that she was needy, and that Tsukki was cold, they both just needed and wanted different things that they couldn't give each other. His ex-girlfriend needed him around, but his schedule was demanding. It was no one's fault.

"Yeah. Can you come in? I don't want anyone else to see the abomination on your feet." He holds his apartment door open for you.

"Shut up. You look like an abomination," you mumble back.

He chuckles a little as you walk inside.

Tsukki's trying to act like he’s fine and for a moment you believe it. Everything seems normal with him. It was one breakup. But when you walk into his home and see clutter, you know it’s bad.

"What in the world..." you whisper, and you're sure he hears you. As you step further into his apartment, you catch the faint scent of his favorite jasmine tea. Something he only brewed when he was stressed. And then there's a lingering aroma of a convenience store meal. You walk by the familiar bookshelf you guys had bought. It was a pain in the ass to build. You both took five hundred breaks before completing one half of it.

"I haven't seen you in a while, Tsukki. You've started reading again?" You ask.

His eyes follow yours to the bookshelf, "A little. When I have the time."

A collection of books occupy the corner, some haphazardly placed with bookmarks peeking out, while others were still carefully arranged just the way he liked them. You raise an eyebrow as your eyes roam across the cluttered table next to it.

There are stacks of papers scattered about, a mishmash of calculations from his stats class, and crumpled attempts at writing essays. This was a mess. 

Kei Tsukishima was a lot of things—reader, asshole, the smartest man in the room (debatably), but he was not messy.

"Tsukki.." you half-attempt to take a seat on the couch, but it’s strewn with clothes and a half-unpacked bag.

"Hm?"

"Why is there-" you wince at the sight. How could you forget? Weren't they supposed to be heading to a nearby city for the weekend? She had terrible timing.

"Nevermind," you finish, but you've said enough to reopen the scar. He nods his head in understanding.

A lonely volleyball sat on the edge of the couch, staring at you, silently begging you for help.

‘work your magic,’ it seems to scream. ‘do something, anything, just fix him.’

“Are you okay? How many cups of tea have you drank?" You ask slowly, your eyes thoughtfully studying him as he moves across his apartment. You assume he’s getting another cup of tea. His hair is a mess, much like his apartment, and his face lacks any color, like a white canvas thrown away and discarded.

“I'm fine. Maybe three cups, or four, I haven't been counting," he says, but he walks past the clutter in his living room like it’s nothing. You make a face. You definitely need to help him.

Standing up from the couch, you reach for the volleyball and pass it around by your fingertips, "Tsukki, you’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

“I'm not,” he shoots back, stopping in front of you and taking a sip of his tea, “I told you, I'm fine. So I'm fine. Drop it.”

"You know I can't just drop it-"

"Yea, I know," he rolls his eyes, "But today? You can and you will," he cuts off.

You point to the area around you, and he sighs. You weren't gonna drop it.

"I can't! This place looks like crap!" You say, louder than you intended.

He narrows his eyes at you and places his mug on the coffee table, barely making enough space for it. “You look like crap on the regular. I don’t say anything about it.”

You gawk at him. Low blow. You hit him in the chest, making him hiss. “Stop being an asshole. I'm trying to help you."

"I don't need your help," he blows off.

You sigh. This was going to be difficult, "Reminder! You called me here! What did you call me for if you're not going to take my help!"

Tsukki averts his eyes and folds his arms against his chest, "Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you."

You give him a look.

He laughs, "Yeah, I know. I don't believe myself either."

"I hate you," you mumble, before refocusing on what matters, "if you don't wanna talk to me, you could try writing out your feelings?” You suggest.

Tsukki scoffs, leans forward, and steals the volleyball from your grasp, "Be honest with yourself, y/n. Do I look like I would ‘write’ out my feelings?”

You frown. How dare he steal from you. “Maybe if you did, you’d be less of an asshat. Strong maybe."

"Shut up," he rolls his eyes, "next option. Aren’t you suppose to be the notorious ‘problem-solver’? You say I have a problem, then fix it,” he says, heading back into his kitchen. You know he's being sarcastic, but you follow him anyways.

You pick up an old convenience store wrapper on the counter, "When was the last time you had a real, quality meal?"

He grabs it and tosses it into the trash, "A week, I don't know. Been busy. Studying. Volleyball. No time to cook. Is this how you problem-solve? By going through my trash?"

“No. It's not. Okay, Tsukki. Lets talk the next options,” you say. Tsukishima turns, leaning against his fridge, interested in what you’re going to say.

“You're gonna be officially enrolled you in my high-rated, greatly endorsed ‘how to’ class.”

Tsukki groans as if on cue. “Huh? I didn't sign up for this."

“First session! How to: Forget About A Witch!” You come up with the name on the fly. You’re sure it needs some work, but Tsukki doesn’t immediately throw you out of his apartment. That means he’s humoring you. For now.

“You can just say ‘bitch’, y’know.” He says through a smirk. 

“I don’t call woman bitches," you wave him off and start again, “How to: Forget About A Witch. Step one, Operation Clean!”

“No.”

Those were words you never expected to hear from him. Shocked for a moment, you quickly sputter, “Hey, you’re enrolled in this class now. You don’t get to say no!”

“I could throw you out right now,” Tsukki scoffs, but you firmly grab onto his elbow and lead him into his living room.

“But you won’t. C'mon. I know you. You hate all of this. I'll help you," you offer gently.

Tsukki looks like he was considering it for a moment, then he sighs and nods his head, "I want to, I just don’t have the energy.”

“Well,” you smile as you lift a book and put it back on the shelf, “I can be your energy.”

You love the way his corners lift into a smile. Then, the operation is on! You're pretty sure it’s working. You can’t help but notice how cute Tsukki looks as he folds his clothes, ensuring everything is perfectly neat. The way he arranges the decorative pillows on the couch makes you want to stay and watch him forever. Then, that smile. Oh my god. No. Focus! This is really not the time for distractions.

But your eyes keep wandering back to him. He seems so calm, so at peace in this moment. Like nothing else matters. You quickly avert your gaze when he turns his head.

“Is there something wrong?” He asks.

“Nope!” You say, turning around so he can't see the stupid blush that rises to your cheeks.

Damn it.

You snap back to reality, taking a moment to admire your hard work. With a sense of accomplishment, you survey the now-tidy living room. And it only took an hour.

“Now,” you flash him a million dollar grin, “onto step 2!”

"There are multiple steps?” He groans. Though he had asked for this, he wonders for a moment if he could rewind time. 

“Yes. It's a course. Step 2: Distraction," you announce, making him raise an eyebrow. 

“Will I like this distraction?” Tsukki asks as you gently guide him out of the kitchen and into the hallways. He only narrowly manages to grab his keys by the front door as you nudge him along.

“Of course. Don't you worry your pretty head about about a thing, princess. I'm gonna take good care of you.”

“Princess?” he repeats in disbelief. Tsukki reluctantly steps out of his apartment, and the cool afternoon breeze hits you both.

“Lets goooo!"

"As long as you promise to never call me that again."

Yamaguchi called you magic once. That every single time you came, he felt like all his worries were gone. You get a text from him while in the taxi. It's simple and sweet. 'Is he going to be okay?'. It makes you smile. A few minutes later he follows up, 'If anyone can help Tsukki, it's you.'

But he never makes it easy.

“Ice cream…” Tsukki says slowly, eyes blinking from sign to sign of the different posted flavors. The tinkle of the door's bell went off behind them, alerting the workers to their presence. The cool air was refreshing to you both, a nice break from Japan's radiating heat.

Your eyes dart around the displays, your stomach wrestling with happiness, "Nothing says ‘screw you, heartbreak’ like a pint of soft vanilla!”

Tsukki focuses his eyes down on you, "Why do I have to pay to solve my heart break? Can I get a refund on this class?”

"Oh, please. Shut up,' the workers are amused by your banter, chuckling as you two approach the glass, "I’m paying, dummy."

“Oh," he smirks, "then great idea, Y/N. I love ice cream.”

“Uh huh. Now order, before my next How-To class is about hiding a body.”

You both thank the worker before finding a small table near the entrance of the shop. Light pools in from the large windows, making your ice cream look even more delicious.

"Thif ice cweam ish sho delishush," you say with a mouthful of the tasty treat.

Tsukki looks at you with a small chuckle, "Are you four? Eat with your mouth closed."

"I love vanilla,” you repeat once the last spoonful has made its way to your stomach. It was a never-ending classic. You never expected too much from it. It was sweet, simple, just the way you like it. It reminds you of your relationship with Tsukishima.

You both never expected too much from the other. You could go days, sometimes even weeks without contact. You both knew it wasn’t purposeful. You both got caught up in your own lives. It's just the way it went sometimes.

Every bite of vanilla is perfect. Tsukki hates the noises you make when you eat. He's side-eyeing you for the fifteenth when he finally says something.

“Do you have to be so vocal?”

“Yes!" You nod excitedly. If you were going to be shoved out of bed early in the morning, you might as well get some enjoyment out of the day.

You continue talking to him, honestly about something stupid, but as always, he listens. You hope it's helping, even just a little to take his mind off everything.

But then you both notice a couple passing by, their laughter echoing in the air. He looks at her like she's his everything. She looks at him like he's her world.

Tsukki’s eyes lower. Shit. Operation Distraction is going south. From beside him, it's almost like you can feel his stomach drop. It was like he was wearing his heartache on his sleeve to you. He puts down his cup of vanilla ice cream.

“I'm not hungry anymore. Here. I know you probably want more.” Tsukki says, trying stupidly hard to make it seem like he didn’t care.

You try to ignore what he's implying (that you're just a vaccum who will eat up anything, aka the truth) and frown. You place your hand on his shoulder.

His eyebrows furrow, "What?"

“This might have to be a two-day class,” you say softly. 

He pauses, and his eyes narrow, “I didn’t agree to spending this much time with you.”

You shrug your shoulders. "Should’ve read the contract of being my friend when you first met me,” you tease lightly, placing down your spoon and immediately reaching for his cup of ice cream. you both stand up, and you make sure you have all your things, before leading him back out into the small town center.

“I was seven. I didn't even know what a contract was." The bell behind you rings again as you exit. The Japan heat tickles your skin.

"Take it up with someone who gives a damn." You say as you look across the busy street for a taxi.

He sighs, surrendering to you and whatever plan you make for him, "Fine. Y/N. What are we doing tomorrow?”

You smile and he knows he’s in trouble. “It's a surprise~”

He frowns. “I don't like surprises."

"You're gonna like this one."

The next day, you've got it all planned out. And of course you do. There was no room for post-breakup boredom. You stayed up all night, crafting the perfect Tsukki hits that would stay playing on his signature white headphones. Then, at 9 a.m. exactly, you’re at his front door step. You ring his stupid smart bell and look straight into his camera.

It clicks, showing it’s recording you. You give it an annoying wave as usual. The door opens after what feels like an eternity, with Tsukki squinting at you, wondering if he should slam this door in your face.

“Are you kidding me? Do you know what time it is? And can you stop making weird faces at my ring?” he complains.

You shrug playfully, not taking his complaints too seriously. “No, and no. You can sleep in the car. Get dressed, and let’s go!”

He does his little grumble, grumble thing but takes a nice shower that takes way too long. He gives you the middle finger as he walks around you to get ready. When he’s finally done, and dressed, you make it to the taxi you ordered. He asks you one too many times where the hell you're going. You ignore him every time.

“Here,” you say as you pull his headphones up from his shoulders and place them over his messy hair. “I made a playlist for you.”

He blinks, looking utterly confused. “You did what…?”

“Just listen,” you murmur, averting your eyes. He always manages to make things awkward as hell.

As you go through the ride, he stops talking. He slightly bobs his head to the music. You smile. All that hard work actually paid off. As you reach your destination and get off the taxi, you thank the driver, and Tsukki tips him generously. He always did, wherever you went. A restaurant, a cafe, if someone was working - they were getting tipped.

“Good playlist,” he comments, glancing around at the area you’ve brought him to. You find yourselves in front of a beautiful temple. “Have you taken me all the way out here to kill me? Why the fuck are we in the next city?”

You don't want to give him the real answer, so you bend the truth a little bit, "Chill, Tsukki. This isn't Criminal Minds. I thought we'd be tourists for a day. Thought you'd like it."

"Since when have you been this thoughtful?" he asks with a scoff. "Did the real Y/N die?"

"Eat shit. Come on," you say, walking down the hill toward a street buzzing with activity. It was the weekend, so the crowds were to be expected. But you knew Tsukki wasn't fond of crowds, which is why you planned to take him somewhere calmer.

"I'm serious," Tsukki continues as he catches up to you and walks beside you. "Did the real Y/N get replaced by an alien or what?"

"Real Y/N is standing right here and will throw you into a bus."

"Ouch. Real Y/N is a bitch."

"Looks like we have a lot in common," you reply with a humble smile.

Tsukki hums. "That and now we're both gonna die single."

So much for distraction. You both wait by a crosswalk to go across the street. You don't respond, and he continues.

"At least we'll be single together?"

You look at him, your best friend, and it hurts. He doesn't know, and how could you tell him, especially right now? So you swallow the burning feeling in your chest and snap back with your usual sass.

"I'm not dying single," you assert as the light turns red, and you both walk across the street.

"All the years I've known you, and you've dated one guy. And he was gay."

You sulk at the reminder. He was so cute too. "And I support him in all his future endeavors. Still, that doesn't mean I'm willing to die a virgin."

Tsukishima laughs in the most cruel way. "Imagine dying a virgin? Haha, that's gonna suck."

You push him, maybe a little too hard, and he almost goes flying into a car. Oops. "Fuck off."

"It's okay, Y/N," he says, patting your back. "One day."

"Fuck all the way off."

He wasn't entirely wrong, though. It had been too many years, and maybe you would die single. If he wasn’t such a government-approved idiot, perhaps things would be different. But here you were.

You both walk a little more before ending up at Japan's most famous geology museum. Tsukki’s eyes twinkle with excitement, and you can’t help but smile, knowing him well.

“I dislike you a little less right now,” Tsukki says.

You chuckle. "I love you too, Kei."

The entire morning and afternoon are spent exploring the museum. You enthusiastically run from one exhibit to another, discovering towering fossils, mesmerizing mineral specimens encased in glass, and interactive displays. Tsukki makes sure to touch each rock formation. His interest is child-like but so genuine. You even manage to catch the attention of one of the workers, who kindly offers you both a specialized tour. Tsukki asks a plethora of questions, using terms you couldn’t be paid enough to understand.

"Nerd," you murmur after he asks a particularly difficult question.

“You failed geology,” he reminds with a smirk, causing the worker to stifle his laughter.

“Your dumbass failed anatomy," you shoot back, making the worker double over in laughter.

“It's only because YOUR dumbass was impossible to cheat from."

The worker at the museum seemed to have a blast with you, and he ended up letting you two keep a small dinosaur toy meant for the kids. You couldn’t resist teasing Tsukki, saying that the little figurine has to be his long-lost cousin. He pretended not to care, but you knew he secretly loved it. You bet he’d sneakily put it on his shelf later, trying to act all cool about it.

The ride back is quiet. You must’ve dozed off without realizing it. Your head was resting comfortably on Tsukki’s shoulder until he gently wakes you up, once you reached his apartment. He insists on you staying over, not wanting you out late like this.

Now, you're wrapped in the softest blanket you've ever felt in your life, watching Jurassic Park. You’ve both been incredibly quiet since you got back. Tsukki had said maybe three words in total.

You worry for a moment. That maybe, even after all that, he's not okay.

“I’m sorry if I’m being boring right now. I’m just lost in my thoughts,” His voice almost startles you. It’s not how it usually is, heavy and strong. He seems tired. You both sit on opposite ends of the couch, a bowl of popcorn between you.

"You’re always like this,” you reply with a casual shrug.

Tsukki rolls his eyes, but then you lean closer, lightly bumping his shoulder. “I don’t mind being bored with you.”

A rare smile sneaks onto Tsukki’s face, and that’s enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“You’re so irritating.” He says.

“But you love me,” you counter.

He sighs but then unexpectedly reaches out to pull you closer. Your eyes widen as he moves you towards him. Fuck.

“I don’t love you,” he claims, his voice oddly cool. However, to your surprise, he leans down and rests his head on your shoulder, and in that moment, you melt.

Damn it.

“Okay,” you respond softly. What else is there to say?

He pauses, as if carefully choosing his words. “Thank you for today. Seriously. I know I can be an ass, but this meant a lot.”

Why does he have to say things like this?

“Don’t mention it,” you say with a smile, trying to hide the butterflies swirling inside your stomach. Tsukki shakes his head and shifts his focus back to the movie.

While you managed to solve one issue, your own only grew more and more. Kei Tsukishima. He would be the death of you.

How To: Lose Feelings For an Idiot?

You don’t. They only grow.

a/n: when i said slow burn i rly did mean slow burn lol. i like this opening to the fic! the others boys will show soon i promise hehe, mostly yamaguchi honestly.

taglist !!! @kei-tsuki21 @marga-j @xxizuchanxx @horr0rvacu1 @lavenderhotcoco @sami-stable @awkwardaardvarkforever @rorygilmoreclown

[scarlettjohanssons-mistress]

Nice to meet you

Warnings: First meetings, fluff

Word count: 1.6 K

Pairing: Cate Blanchett x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Meeting Cate (Based on a true story, only, I didn't meet Cate)

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Actors and actresses masterlist]

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I noticed was that the sun was too bright and warm for ten o'clock in the morning. I lazily picked up my mobile phone and unlocked it, only to realise that I had not set my alarm and that it was in fact already 11:00 A.M.

"Shit"

As best I could, and literally running, I got out of my bed, put on a pair of jeans, my work t-shirt, and went into the bathroom. In less than 5 minutes I had brushed my teeth, washed my face, combed my hair and grabbed my make-up bag. I grabbed my backpack, money, my keys and left the flat to run to the underground station.

The train arrived quickly and since it was no longer rush hour, it was practically empty, so I sat down and took off my make-up, knowing that I wouldn't get to work for another 30 minutes.

When I got to the station where I had to get off, I did so and ran to the nearby square in order to get to my work. I opened the door, dodged several customers and made my way to the counter of the bookshop.

"Look who deigned to show up," joked my cousin.

I had been working in the bookshop run by my aunt for months. It was a great advantage, since, with tardiness like today's, in any other job, I would have been fired by now, but here, I only received a disapproving look from my aunt and a silly smile from my uncle.

"Oh, T/N, now why were you so late?"

"I forgot to set my alarm"

My aunt just rolled her eyes.

"You should set an alarm to remind you to set an alarm," my uncle joked, making us all giggle.

"Well, since you're finally here, please mop the floor."

"Sure, hey auntie, remember I told you if you'd give me permission to get away for two or three hours here in the square?"

"You're late and you still want to go out?" joked my cousin.

"What do you want to go out for?" asked my uncle, as he brought down books from a Spanish publisher.

"There's going to be a premiere of Cate Blanchett's new film. And the cast is coming…"

"And T/N would rather die than lose the chance to meet that woman," my cousin finished.

"Sorry for appreciating what a good actress she is".

I was a lying whore. Sure, the woman was the greatest actress of the 21st century, but she was also the most sensual woman I had ever met. My gay ass was shaking just thinking about her.

"What time is that?"

"At 3:00 p.m."

"Where is it?"

"It's in the cinema in this very square".

"Okey".

And without further ado, he began to help my uncle with the Spanish books.

"Is that a yes?"

Out of nowhere, he stood up with a grimace of pain.

"Help your uncle with the books and then we'll see".

———————————————————————————

My aunt had a problem, and this was that she would regularly, if not always, forget that I had already left some task, and suddenly I would start doing another one that needed to be done more urgently, so it was not unusual for me to notice that, just when I had half the floor mopped, the clock in the shop already showed 3:10 PM.

"Auntie, it's already 3:10."

"So what?"

"I asked you that you would give me the opportunity to go out to the premiere of the film".

"Have you finished cleaning?"

"Almost there…

"Then it's over now"

I started mopping quickly to finish faster.

"Do it right, T/N!"

I felt my heart start to flutter as, outside the venue, I could hear the screams, the people starting to run. Shit, it was too late, there was probably already a big crowd on the red carpet, which was going to make it impossible for me to get an autograph or a picture.

———————————————————————————

After finishing my chores, I quickly set out to go to the storeroom, drop off the mop and bucket, and just as I was taking off my uniform shirt to put on a nicer one, I heard some pretty loud shouting and the front door slamming. For several minutes I listened to murmuring until suddenly my cousin shouted.

"Y/N, come"

I quickly put on my T-shirt, and grabbed my small bag. As I left, I noticed an excessive amount of people in front of the bookshop, which scared me.

"What's going on, why are there so many people outside…?

Before I could finish my sentence, I walked over to where my cousin was, to find her standing next to Cate Blanchett and her make-up artist Mary.

"Hello. Nice to meet you"

The blonde greeted me with a charming smile. But I froze. I literally didn't know what to do.

Part of me wanted to start screaming and jumping up and down with excitement, another part was about to cry and try to hug her, while another part wanted to make a fool of myself as little as possible and try to start a conversation about her films and what a great actress she is in my eyes.

"Excuse her, she's too gay to talk" my cousin scoffed, eliciting a giggle from both older women "she's literally in love with you. When she was like 15 she said she'd marry you."

Yep, it was definitely not in my plans to be humiliated like that by my own cousin.

What was my next action, just ignore my cousin and start with some of my actions, make believe that this is a joke?

"It's not true, I mean, I do want to kiss you, but not since I was fifteen".

NO. IT'S. I really told one of the best actresses in the world that I wanted to kiss her, I WANT TO DIE.

I covered my face with both hands, but through the gap between my fingers I could see Cate giggle and adjust her hair.

"Well… I'm flattered."

"But… but what are you doing here?" I tried to change the subject just to avoid further embarrassment.

"People started to crowd around and I needed to fix this," Mary said as she pointed to Cate's torn dress.

"You know, a torn dress can't break my aura of perfection…" Cate tried to joke, but, she didn't know my name. She was asking my name!

"T/N, my name is T/N"

"T/N" she whispered my name in such a sensual way that I felt my panties start to get wet. "That's a beautiful name."

"T…thank you"

She began to wander around the room, while Mary, behind her, tried to fix her dress. As my gaze followed them, I felt a nudge in my rib.

"Hey, I've got to go" my cousin spoke, "can you stay and look after the blonde while my aunt comes back from her office?" before I could answer, she laughed and tapped me on the shoulder "who am I kidding, you sure get wet at the thought of being alone with that woman."

"You know we're not alone, and there's her make-up artist, right?"

"We're going to pretend that wouldn't stop you, are we?"

She just laughed and left.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that my aunt was attending to an important call, while my uncle was arranging the diaries. So, I followed them, seeing that Cate was too focused on one section of the bookshop.

"Do you have a specific section for LGBT literature?"

She turned to look at me, while Mary was fixing her dress and make-up. It wasn't a question on the air.

"Yes, we have a wide variety.

"I've never read this one" as she could, she picked up Ruth Gogoll's 'Taxi to Paris' book. and leafed through it a little.

"That's a very good one, I've read it more than 3 times…"

"So I'm dealing with a stalker?" she joked, causing me to let out an involuntary laugh. I can't believe she just made a reference to her own joke.

"In my defence, it's part of a research project for my university".

"What are you studying?"

"I'm studying cinema. I'd like to make an adaptation of that book".

"That's wonderful, darling. Is that your first race?"

"Yes…"

"You are so young…"

We were both silent, but with our eyes fixed on each other's, until Mary's throat clearing brought us out of our reverie.

"Cate, we have to go, it's already late."

"Oh, right."

She put the book back where she took it from, but just before she walked, I stepped forward and took the book, handing it to the blonde.

"Here, I'll give it to you"

"Oh darling, you're a sweetheart, but don't worry, I could pay for it…"

Fuck it, it's now or never.

"Yes, but, when you read it, you'll think of me."

I saw her eyes sparkle and she gave me a beautiful smile.

"Well, I guess I owe her the same treatment. Maybe a picture will make her think of me, sweet princess?" she joked.

"That would be wonderful, beautiful woman," I curtsied, causing her smile to grow.

I handed my mobile phone to Mary and just as I was smiling for the picture, I felt Cate's warm, soft lips on the corner of my mouth.

Mary took the picture and told Cate they had to leave, so she handed me my mobile phone and left, almost dragging Cate with her.

"I hope you remember me every time you see the picture".

"I hope you remember me every time you read the book".

Note:

I hope you enjoy it

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

taglist: @littlebitchsposts // @xxsekhmet

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

[piratefalls]

first list here.

round two i guess. i finally read 30 pages of a real physical book last night. progress? possibly. it felt right that while working on this "nothing's gonna stop us now" started playing. thinking about making this a wednesday thing. still trying to do a mix of new and old fics, even though it's all new to me. and much like alex claremont-diaz, this has been a mouthful. if you want me to tag you in any lists going forward, let me know!

Will You Brie Mine? by chamel

Today, as Henry tells him all about the Manchego, Alex tries his best to listen and not fixate on the mole next to the corner of Henry’s mouth or the way his shoulders strain the seams of his white uniform shirt. It’s not a particularly easy task for him, in all honesty. “Would you care for a sample?” Henry asks, as if Alex has ever said no to him. “I’d love one,” Alex tells him instead of saying I’d like to sample you. (Or, Henry sells cheese and Alex is somehow his best customer. It's not really about the cheese.)

take me out and take me home by coffeecatsme

“Shh.” Alex presses a finger over Henry’s lips. Their corners twitch, as if Henry’s desperately fighting a smile. “This is our house, baby. We gotta make it our own." Soon after Ellen's election, Henry and Alex move into a brownstone in New York. This is a story of how they make it home.

i still love you more than i should say by tkstrand

It’s been three months since Alex started working for Bankston & Shrivastava Associates, and he’s starting to think that his tiny crush on his coworker may not actually be that small. NYU School of Law may have helped him pass the bar, but it certainly didn’t prepare him for everything that is Henry fucking Fox. What makes it worse, though, is that Alex can’t do a fucking thing about it. No matter how much banter they swap, how many times he makes Henry blush in a day, it doesn’t matter. Alex can’t do anything, because Henry already has a boyfriend. Or, where a slight miscommunication leads Alex to believe that David is Henry's boyfriend.

and that's the way i loved you by HypnosTheory

Alex sighs, tilting his head back and sinking low in his chair. “What if I scare him off? He’s got a pretty big thing about commitment-” “He eats the same thing for breakfast and he wears a ring with his own initials every day,” Nora says, lifting her head up just enough to glare at Alex. “He doesn’t have commitment issues, he’s just a slut. Tell him you want him to be your slut. For the love of all that is holy.” -- Alex accidentally fell hopelessly in love with his roommate and fuck buddy Henry. He tries to plan the perfect confession, but when have any of Alex’s plots worked perfectly?

Baby, You're Gonna Lose Your Own Game by affectionatelyrs

Alex thinks he understands why people get stupid, impulsive tattoos like their ex’s name now if the sudden urge to etch the word darling onto his hip in permanent ink is anything to go by. So, yeah, Alex supposes. Henry may still be maddening, but his mouth? His voice? Maybe it was always hot, actually, and the irritation he previously felt was just thinly veiled complete and utter attraction. That would check out. Hate has always been a multifaceted word, after all. - Or, Alex decides that he wants to fuck the British out of Henry while watching him speak at a gala

flatline by rizcriz

Alex gets the call at 7:57am. It’s from an unknown number, so he answers it with an accent on his tongue and laughter in his throat, ready to troll the scammer for all they’re worth. But the voice on the other side of the line is serious, solemn, when she asks, “Is this, I apologize, all I’ve been given are initials, AGCD?” He frowns, turning away from the coffee shop he’d been about to enter. “Who’s asking?” There’s a moment of hesitation on the other end. “There’s been an incident. On the individual's phone, there’s a sticker. It says, if found, return to AGCD, alongside this phone number. Does it sound familiar?” Alex freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. “What kind of incident?” -- Or, Henry's been in an accident.

craigslist cutie (please don't go) by matherine

Here’s the thing. Alex is simultaneously very, very smart and very, very stupid. Nora calls it the Claremont-Diaz Paradox, and every time she does, June sticks out her tongue like she’s about twelve years old, and then Nora makes a comment about what she would rather June be doing with her tongue, and – okay. Off track. Not relevant to Alex’s current predicament, which is perhaps the most damning example of the Claremont-Diaz Paradox. Alex got himself into NYU Law with flying colors and LSAT scores in the 99th percentile, worked his ass off for three years, and graduated with honors and a crippling caffeine addiction. And then, because he is an idiot, he decided to take his JD, his potential, and his mountain of student loans to his brand-new job as a public defender. Unfortunately, being a public defender pays about as much as working at a Hot Topic. Which means that Alex really needs a roommate. Like, pronto. STAT. ASAP. He’s not sure who’s desperate enough to move into the other room in his beautiful, probably-not-bedbug-infested 700 square feet of Hell’s Kitchen, but he really fucking needs to find somebody. Craigslist is a last resort, but it does bring him Henry.

Professional Rivalry by clottedcreamfudge

"Decided to take the afternoon off to bump into pedestrians?" Alex asks as he gets to his feet, brushing off his chinos and pushing his glasses back onto his face where they've started to slide down his nose. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere writing about men in passionate embraces?" Henry regards him coolly over the armful of papers he's managed to retain complete control of, somehow, and Alex notices vaguely that he's got a smudge of ink just below his jaw. "Shouldn't you be taking a 1L lecture in," Henry pauses, looking at his watch, "less than five minutes?" "Fuck," Alex says again. "Fucking shit." Then he turns around and leaves Henry to bump into more people, probably, since that seems to be his only fucking agenda for the day. *** Professor Alex Claremont-Diaz despises Professor Henry Fox, so naturally they get roomed together at a conference. Alex is fine.

take a step, step again by iphigenias

This is not the first time. The first time, Alex left for class early, left Henry in their bed in Brooklyn with a kiss pressed to the exposed skin behind his ear. He didn’t hear from Henry all day. When he got home that night, Henry wasn’t in the kitchen, or on the sofa watching Bake Off, and he didn’t answer when Alex called. He was still lying in bed, and flinched, when Alex reached out to touch him.

mess me up (no one does it better) by extasiswings

Sometimes, Alex gets stuck in his own head. And for twenty-two years he doesn’t think there’s anything to be done other than to just go with it, ride out the frenetic energy until he’s fixed whatever needs fixing, or until the situation is over, whichever comes first. If he can just control everything, it’s fine. He likes being in control, he’s good at it, he’s fine. It’s just how things have always been. Until Henry.

five times henry's competency turned alex on and one time it turned him into a pile of romantic goo by helenblqckthorn

Alex has a fucking thing for competency. A competency kink, if he wants to be crude. And it just so happens that his boyfriend is one of the most competent men in England. Well, Alex, he thinks. You sure know how to pick ‘em.

Keep Most of Your Heart in London by cresswells

Alex thinks he’s prepared – as prepared as he’ll ever be. He’s been waiting for months to do this. He even did his research on the proper etiquette for a British royal engagement – and then promptly ignored it all. AKA: The one with the engagement of the century.

Red, White & Navy Blue by jedusaur

"Fine," says Alex. He clenches his jaw and his fists. "Great. Watch me. I'll bromance the shit out of the motherfucker."

how we rolled up the carpet (so we could dance) by adhoori

Henry shrugs off his suit jacket and tie, looking his usual annoyingly handsome self while Alex stifles a yawn in spite of the amount of caffeine in his system. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Henry says, looking all kinds of fond. Alex feels a little ridiculous in his tousled hair, glasses and the ratty NYU sweatshirt, but finds an answering warmth spreading through him anyway as he lets himself be kissed hello. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says, leaning back into the chair while Henry leans against the desk.

you and me, forevermore by bellamysgriffinprincess

"He pushes up on his toes to kiss Henry, who returns the kiss immediately, greedily, tongue brushing against his in a way that makes Alex's brain short circuit just as much as it did a year ago. A year ago. It still does something to him, stirs something deep inside him that makes his entire body feel like pure mush. It's a memory burned so bright in his mind - cold air, a buzz in his veins, a tree in a quiet garden, fingers gripping his face, soft lips against his. The night his world turned on its axis and shifted toward Henry, altering his path and forever tilting him closer." Or, Alex and Henry on New Year's Eve, one year after their first, and Alex wants it to be special.

All Booked Up by allmylovesatonce

A book tearing up the Bestseller’s List is quickly shoved into Alex’s hands via June and Nora. Despite his resistance, he’s taken in by the book and its whirlwind romance. When Nora insists they all go to a reading with the mysterious author, Alex is drawn in by H. G. Fox, hanging on his every word. When they meet after the signing, it sets him on a path he’d thought was impossible.

Are You Screwing With Me? by railmedaddy

Alex is only downloading Grindr because he’s curious. It doesn’t fucking mean anything, right? And when he answers a call for help from a very hot neighbour – who has no business having a shoulder-to-waist ratio like that – he’s just being friendly. It definitely doesn’t mean that he’s going to discover things about himself that he’d assumed were just passing curiosity. Or, the Grindr meet-cute AU

Yo Te Guiero A Ti by lucy_in_the_sky

“So,” Henry starts again, setting the now empty beer bottle down with a decided thud. “You want to bottom, but are having trouble fingering yourself and making it feel good?” He asks, voice deeper than usual. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Alex shrugs, still feeling half turned on and half mortified. “And you want my help with fingering yourself?” Henry asks, slightly incredulously. And fucking hell, that’s exactly what he wants, even though he technically only asked for Henry’s advice, not his help actually fingering him. “Would you help me?” Alex breathes out, the question barely a whisper.

We were staying in Paris by hollybibble

Henry wakes up with Alex for the first time in Paris. He's desperately in love but still managing to convince himself he is in control...until Alex calls him 'baby.' Cameo appearance by Henry's leather polo gloves.

Piping and Draping on a Saturday Night by cmere

Dear Alex, Please consider this email confirmation that I am available to help supervise students at the End of Semester Dance on Saturday, December 19th. Do let me know if there is anything I should prepare in advance. I look forward to working with you. Sincerely,Professor Henry Fox, Ph.DHistory Alex doesn't really understand why boring and pretentious Professor Henry Fox volunteers to help out at his students' events every semester, but he needs all the help he can get, so he's just gonna have to put up with him.

don't be surprised, baby (it's just me) by pissedofsandwich

Henry reflects on his relationship with touch over the years.

love dares you, to change our way of caring about ourselves by kapplebougher

Henry has read it all: fairy-tales of princes and their courters, unsung histories of kings and their secret lovers, and he has read all their happy endings. But he is not a prince in a fairy-tale, and he has always thought his own secret love story was likelier to end in tragedy. Perhaps it’s time that changed. (Or, Henry’s POV the morning after The Great Claremont-Diaz Ambush at Kensington Palace)

I'd Cross Oceans by 14hpgirl19

Dating a prince is hard. Dating a prince when you're the son of the President is even harder. Alex is done with barely seeing Henry. When Henry gets sick while in London, Alex decides to take matters into his own hands. (And if he ends up with a fiance at the end of it, even better.)

watch before it ends by indomitablelove

He should be working on this essay so he can spend more time with Henry this weekend. He really, really should be working on this essay. But. But. Henry is going live on Instagram. --- that's it, that's the fic.

you turned a moment (into forever) by viciouslyqueer

Sharing an apartment with Alex had seemed like a good idea at first. They’re best friends, prices in Brooklyn are absurd, and they had both been in urgent need of residence – it only made sense. Except for the small, tiny, teeny, barely there fact that Henry has been in love with Alex from the first moment he laid eyes on him. And the fact that Alex doesn’t know, and can never find out.

[stroobae]

Okay so basically I got to do a presentation about chapter 30 from The Dream Thieves in my Creative Writing class and I got way to carried away writing a full analysis so I thought I'd post it here

I think this passage is so great because it's packed with symbols that completely encapsulate the character of Ronan Lynch. Firstly, we have Ronan’s tattoo, which holds a lot of significance in terms of its literal purpose and what it figuratively represents. We learn here that the literal purpose of the tattoo is to instill fear and intimidation among others. Ronan is a very damaged person, and uses his physical appearance as a warning sign for others to steer clear of him after his father dies. He has a shaved head, a permanent scowl, and most intimidating of all: a tattoo which stretches from the back of his neck all the way down to his waist. His tattoo has a lot of grotesque, frightening imagery in it, which is interesting considering its design is made up of “things from his head.” The fact that the dark imagery portrayed in his tattoo is from his head reveals the struggles and dark things that come out of his own mind. His tattoo is a literal manifestation of Ronan’s inner self portrayed in a scene on his back. He’s quite literally wearing his heart on his sleeve (or on his back rather). It’s also mentioned that Ronan has never been able to see the tattoo fully, because it’s on his back. It can only be seen by others standing behind him, and also, when he’s naked (which is something I’ll come back to later). I think that the placement of his tattoo specifically is a really important metaphor alongside the idea that Ronan’s tattoo represents his whole character and inner self. The fact that Ronan cannot see the whole picture of himself and only “bits and pieces” seems like a large indicator that Ronan doesn’t know fully who he is. In the prologue of The Dream Thieves, it’s stated that Ronan has three secrets, all of different natures; the nature of the second secret being one you keep even from yourself. So essentially, Ronan has a part of himself which he doesn't even truly understand, and I think that this is really accentuated by the fact that he can't see his whole tattoo (his inner self) because it's always behind him. However, others also can’t see the whole tattoo unless he takes his shirt off to show them. (BIG THING FOR LATER!)

In the epilogue of TDT you find out (along with Ronan himself) that he’s in love with one of his best friends, Adam. During this chapter, the reader hasn’t been told yet that Ronan is in love with Adam; mostly because the book follows his point of view, and he doesn’t actually know this about himself yet either. It’s made into a plot twist of sorts in the epilogue, and many readers said that they weren’t aware that it was coming at all. A lot of people felt that Ronan’s crush on Adam came out of nowhere. But if you’re me and love to look WAY too deep into every single line of a book, you’ll know that this isn’t the case at all. This dream is a dead giveaway of Ronan’s feelings. First of all, dreams–especially the way that they’re portrayed in this book–are a look into one’s inner conscience. Your dreams are able to display your deepest feelings and desires, even if you’re not consciously aware of them in real life. Ronan especially is a character who has walls built up, and doesn't verbally communicate how he feels to any other character. He doesn’t even allow himself to examine his own feelings/desires, and has a lack of self-vulnerability and personal emotional intelligence. So in his dreams, his most inner part of himself comes to the forefront of his mind and shows him things he didn’t even know he wanted. To validate this idea, we have the fact that Ronan can fully see his whole tattoo in this dream. His tattoo represents his inner self, and he is finally able to see this part of himself within his dream. The dream begins with Dream Adam tracing his tattoo, and in Latin (which I’ll unpack later) he says,“Scio quid hoc est” which roughly translates to “I know what this is.” Once again, returning to the idea that Ronan’s tattoo is a manifestation of himself, we have Adam physically touching it and telling Ronan he knows what the tattoo means. He understands its whole purpose; why Ronan got it, what it’s really depicting. Dream Adam isn’t intimidated by the tattoo like most people because of its gruesome imagery, but instead he knows that it’s really made up of things from Ronan’s conscience, that it’s a representation of who he is inside. What’s really being portrayed in this scene is Ronan’s desire to be truly known by someone, which is a common theme in the series. The fact that the person shown “knowing” Ronan in his dream is Adam specifically is really important as well. Up until this point, we know that Adam and Ronan are friends, their relationship is shown to be tense and is characterized by squabbles which are resolved by the end of the day. We don’t really know exactly how they feel about each other yet based on their surface level interactions. Therefore, this chapter is extremely important in developing their relationship. We now know partly about how Ronan truly feels about Adam. Not necessarily what their relationship currently is, but what he subconsciously wants it to be. Ronan wants to be known by Adam and believes that he has this capability, since it’s Adam who fills this role in his dream. 

In the dream, Dream Adam then transforms into Kavinsky, who’s the antagonist in this installment. Kavinsky is an adrenaline junky who’s presented to have an infatuation with Ronan. He gets him to do crazy things: dangerously drag race in the streets, take questionable dreamt-pills, and throw molotov cocktails at white Mitsubishis. He’s infatuated with Ronan mainly because of Ronan’s outward reputation and appearance, his mutual love for perilous activities, and the fact that they share the supernatural ability to take things out of their dreams. Kavinsky wants someone to enable him; who he can be an enabler to. Kavinsky thinks that they’re one in the same, and that Ronan is an exemplary candidate for a self-destructive partner. In Ronan’s dream, when Adam turns into Kavinsky, Ronan disappears entirely. He becomes only his tattoo, which gets smaller and smaller until it's simply a tiny Celtic knot. The notion that Ronan disappears and that his tattoo (all that’s left of him, a manifestation of his conscience) gets smaller when Kavinsky appears, shows that he literally feels small when he’s with him. Kavinsky belittles Ronan. He misunderstands who he is, and boils him down to his wildness and rash spontaneousness. He quite literally swallows Ronan whole in the dream; he destroys all that he is. Dream Kavinsky tells Ronan in Latin, “Scio quid estis vos'', which roughly translates to “I know what you are.” WOOOOOF. OH, IT'S SO GOOD. I GOT CHILLS. This could have SO many meanings. “I know what you are” could mean that Kavinsky knows that Ronan is a dreamer, just like himself, or it could also mean that he knows Ronan is gay (if we’re revisiting that idea of this dream bringing to the forefront parts of Ronan that he doesn’t know about himself yet). Adam and Kavinsky are complete opposites in Ronan’s dream, and furthermore, his life. The dream versions of the two represent what he wants, versus what he’s settled with. Currently, Ronan doesn’t think that he’s worthy of someone who truly knows and loves him. Instead, he’s resigned himself to a homoerotic unlabeled relationship with Kavinsky—who doesn't actually care about who he is, and only wants someone who he can destroy his life with. The exact phrasing of the things Dream Adam and Kavinsky separately say to Ronan are SO significant. Essentially they’re telling him the same thing: what they think they know about him. It's the words which they use to say this which makes these statements wildly different. Dream Adam says “I know what this is” about Ronan’s tattoo, meaning that he knows Ronan’s inner self. He knows this thing which he can’t normally see all of himself display of terrible things from his own mind. Dream Kavinsky says “I know what you are” which displays his assumption of Ronan’s outer character.  It’s a bold assumption and an incorrect one. The difference between Adam and Kavinsky to Ronan, is that Ronan wants Adam because he’s different from himself, and doesn’t want Kavinsky because he’s too similar to him. To an extent, I think Ronan fears Kavinsky because he’s who Ronan would be if he didn’t have Gansey or Adam in his life to keep him sane. Initially, Ronan does like to have someone to let off steam with, but he eventually realizes doesn't want an enabler to ruin his life with. He wants someone like Adam–his polar opposite–to know him, to ground him. He wants to feel alive, and awake. 

Another interesting element to this chapter is that Ronan’s dream seems to be erotic in nature; it’s a wet-dream. This is a little jarring for a YA novel, but I personally think eroticsm and sex used in literature as metaphors for conveying relationships and character vulnerability is really beautiful and clever. The significance of it being a sex dream is the fact that Ronan, as previously stated, isn’t someone who verbalizes his love for people. He shows it through physical intimacy and acts of service. Intercourse is literally as close as one can be with another person, and Ronan is completely vulnerable and laid bare in this moment. In it Ronan is naked, which we know because the dream begins with Adam tracing the tattoo all the way down his bare back. Remember, Ronan’s tattoo can only be seen fully when he’s naked, which adds another layer to this. Here it’s assumed that he had allowed Dream Adam to see his tattoo, because he had to have taken off his shirt to see it. Circling back Ronan’s tattoo placement, it’s something that not only can’t be fully seen by himself, but also can’t be fully seen by others unless he decides to strip naked for them. Here he allows Adam to see it and even trace the lines of it down his back. He felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with Adam like that, and to inspect his whole being. The fact that Kavinsky then appears and the tattoo becomes smaller represents Ronan's uncomfortability with Kavinsky. He didn’t mean for him to see that part of himself and shrinks away in shame until Kavinsky devours the tattoo without permission. It really enforces the idea that Ronan wants and chooses Adam, but Kavinsky forces himself into his life and takes from Ronan without asking. Finally, Ronan awakes from his wet dream “euphoric and ashamed.” This could either be about the fact that it was a sex dream with not one, but other boys, or the confrontation of his true desires. He’s ashamed to admit what he really wants, and doesn’t allow himself to fully comprehend what this dream means. Ronan even thinks that he never wants to sleep again, which really means that he doesn't want his dreams to confront him with his true feelings again. This can tie into the metaphor about Ronan’s sexuality in terms of the fact that he got off to Adam and then Kavinsky, or that he doesn’t want to let his guard down and admit what he truly wants. 

It’s now finally time to unpack the use of Latin! Hooray! Throughout the series, we’re shown that Ronan is really flippant about school. He’s constantly on the brink of expulsion from Aglionby because he doesn’t go to any of his classes or do any of the work. However, the one class he has consistent attendance in as well as the highest overall grade is Latin—second to his proficiency in the language is Adam. They’re both in the same class, and are said to be able to almost fully understand and speak perfect Latin. The use of this dead language is a common theme in the series, and almost all of Ronan’s dreams are in latin. There’s an underlying meaning in that alone. A fun tidbit if we’re looking into the meaning of latin phrases we have the imagery of “claws and beak” described about the imagery of Ronan’s tattoo. The latin phrase “Unguibus et rostro” translates to “claws and beak” and is an expression about fighting with everything you have for something you want. It’s idiomatically comparable to phrases like “heart and soul” and “with all one’s strength” (thanks to ravenclawsandbeak on tumblr for sharing this finding with the fans).  In the final book in the series, there’s a short chapter which is essentially a call-back to this chapter, and follows the format in which it’s written pretty clearly. However, Ronan is awake this time rather than dreaming. 

This chapter is more or less a sex scene between Ronan and Adam, and is essentially the exact opposite to Ronan’s wet dream in TDT. Here, Ronan’s desires are no longer a fantasy that came to him in a dream, he finally has exactly what he’s wanted all along. in which they admit their feelings for each other, which is done indirectly and not through words. The fact that it's through a sex scene is significant because it's showing their intimacy. Intercourse between people is literally as close as two people can get. As a couple, Adam and Ronan rarely verbalize their feelings about each other, and so this intimate act is really them letting down their walls and allowing themselves to be completely vulnerable to each other. Here, we have Adam studying Ronan's tattoo in real life this time, just like in his dream (Something he’s only able to do because Ronan allowed him). He sees all the fine details in its design, and interestingly enough, speaks aloud this latin phrase “Unguibus et rostro” (This also begins a common theme of Ronan and Adam speaking in cryptic latin phrases rather than just actually telling the other of how they feel about each other, but that's a story for another time). This, as everything else does, has multiple meanings; it shows that not only Adam correctly interprets the imagery on tattoo, showing that now he does truly know and understand Ronan’s inner self. But also it reiterates the meaning of this phrase: that Ronan has appropriately fought with all he had for what he wants. He was able to reject Kavinsky and stay true to himself and his principles, and he realized his feelings for Adam, and was able to let his guard down enough to reach out to Adam and let him know how he actually felt about him. And similarly, he allowed Adam to love him back. 

So why did Maggie Stiefvater include the chapter in TDT? It completely breaks the flow of the main story, interrupts two other character’s POVs, and comes seemingly out of nowhere. It's not described where Ronan is, who he came to sleep, when it’s happening. It feels as if the placement of this chapter didn’t matter; it could appear anywhere and still have the same effect. My theory? I think that Stiefvater specifically placed this chapter here because she thought it was an appropriate time to learn more about Ronan, and she wanted the chapter to stick out due to shock value. Because it’s at such a seemingly random moment, and its content is brief and strange, it’s a stark outlier from the rest of the chapters. For me, this strategy totally worked. When I think back to this book, this chapter is by far the most memorable one. I remember it almost immediately when I think about any specific line/chapter from this book. Even though the dream seems random and complex, it has so much meaning packed into it about Ronan’s inner conscience and character. Stiefvater wants to reveal all of these things about Ronan previously analyzed without directly telling us. 

[kirathehyrulian]

♥Help Milana Auction Winner for Art Offer #1♥ (placeholder): 🐟Ocean Fishing🐟

*Do not Repost, Alter, or Use without permission of @wetsammywinchester.*

This work was inspired from @wetsammywinchester 's J2 fic Enthrall (For better viewing on desktop, click the image, then right click the enlarged image, and then click "open image in new tab".)

For more stuff from me please check out my “myart” tag here on Tumblr or my AO3.

👇( wip screenshots and notes below the cut) 👇

For more detailed notes: [AO3 link]

Art Notes:

In early Oct 2019, a section of the creator community held/organized a fandom charity auction to help out a fellow creator who had fallen on hard times (for more info on the past auction click here). I offered three commissions towards the auction. Paula was gracious enough to bid for and win my 1st offer for $30.

The details of that offer was: One title card and one illustration for a fic.

Because life events and burnout got in the way we didn't finish talking out all the particulars, but I just decided to go ahead and make two illustrations for now, and if the particulars ever get fleshed out in the future, I'll do the official title card and illustration that more closely fits the story of the scene and overall feel that Paula would like to be depicted from the fic.

So these works are more a placeholder. I made these because it's always been in the back of my mind for 5 years now to complete the offer because that was 30 dollars donated with nothing given from my side to show for it. So at least now it has something to show for it even if it's not the official work that was supposed to be done.

WIP Screenshots:

This was the first sketch idea that I abandoned because I felt like I didn't know how to actually make it and Jared's face would be mostly hidden, which was not a good thing in my book. I succeed more with Jared's face than I do with Jensen. So I had no confidence going in for this idea:

I ended up settling for a sketch of mer!Jared in the water and then I later thought that just doing Jared wasn't fair so I made another canvas for a Jensen fisherman companion piece to the mer!Jared one. Also, I tried to make Jared look 14-ish because I was told Jensen was around 18 in the fic, but up to the view if the attempt translated well. And this is the wip of both of those:

The mer!Jared illustration obviously was more intricate so that process took longer and had more wip screenshots than the Jensen one. I admittedly was getting burnout when working on Jensen's so I took some shortcuts with the t-shirt decal and the bags and containers surrounding Jensen. I just found some images on google and traced them instead of eyeballing it which saved me time and effort that would have made the burnout worse to the point that I might have finishing this work a lot later than now. So I'm not upset or ashamed about doing it for that reason.

I started this project around Feb 8th this year and finished it all March 14th (today). And that's it for now. Thank you for getting this far and-

Enjoy, if you can!♥♥♥

[mxltifxnd0m]

first week of school recap! aug 25 - aug 30 ↴

⟡⟡⟡

sunday night:

⟡ my glasses broke spontaneously and needs to get fixed (which i found out ill have to pay for repairs and I don't want to do that)

monday:

⟡ trying to find parking was an absolute nightmare and i end up not finding any parking, but my sister took over since i was going to be late if i couldn't find any.

⟡ but this class is good! im taking queer lit lol, but there is a guy in that class who yaps a little too much and too slow for my liking (he also sounds like reddit/discord mod) (should give you an image of what he looks like)

⟡ i only have one class on this day so that's a plus loll

⟡ also my purple dog shirt came in and so i can't wait to wear it! (will probs post a pic/vid of me wearing it and then delete it) (never thought i would post a face reveal but im still debating it loll)

tuesday:

⟡ once again parking was terrible to find and i had to park at one of the lots that was across campus from my first class and it was hell walking in the heat and i was sweating so much.

⟡ my second class was interesting and my prof made us say our favorite book while she took attendance and i kid you not that there were six, i repeat SIX it ends with us mentions as ppls fav book and i just about shot myself in the head at that moment

some lore about me: i loathe colleen hoover with my entire being, she's my arch nemesis if you will. as someone once said before, ppl who read CH books never had a fanfiction phase and it shows (she also gives me hope that i have the ability to write)

⟡ but classes went well and after my second class, i have a gap of like three and half hours before my last class (oof ik), so i walked back to my car to move it to the nearest parking structure and i walked around aimlessly around the lot bc i forgot where i parked my car, but i eventually found it after like ten minutes loll.

⟡ then while i waited for my last class wait to start, i ate dinner in the student union (mini food court) at my school and before my class started at 7:00, i made my way down to the basement where the class is which was a little freaky but the teacher is pretty chill. its a story structure class for screenwriting so that'll be fun!

wednesday:

⟡ my sister and i come in to class on mondays and wednesdays and i only have one class while she has two later in the day (mine is earlier than hers) so i have to stay at school until she's done which is always fun (not, her last class ends at 6:45 PM while mine ends at 12:45 PM >_<).

⟡ parking wasn't fun and our patience ran really thin this morning so we ended up parking in the same lot i did the previous day and found parking pretty quickly. but i ended up moving the car to the parking structure i did yesterday.

⟡ i ended up vibing and eating lunch in the library before moving the car and taking a really sweaty nap in it lol before my sister was done with her class and then drove home :)

thursday:

⟡ got to school an hour before my class started bc i was conditioned on monday to search for parking an hour and potentially be late to class, but i ended up parking for the third day in a row at the furthest parking lot bc i couldn't be bothered to deal with the headache of circling around the parking structures for an hour

⟡ then after my first class, i was able to meet up with a friend for a bit before her class and then after our last classes which was fun! but then i ended up having to walk across campus again bc i didn't move my car in between my first class and second class bc i wasn't sure about the amount of parking spots in the parking structures and didn't want risk being late to class trying to find parking.

⟡ but i had a friend my last class of the day and they parked near the lot i did so we walked and chatted after we finished class!

⟡ speaking of classes, my professors are all iconic and ive enjoyed the classes so far! although one of my professors is such a millennial it hurts (in a good way though, she's funny loll)

⟡ all in all i don't have any more classes this week! fridays are my free days, giving me a three day weekend :)

friday:

⟡ i had a dentist appointment in the morning and i actually slept through the night lol

(my body has been weird and waking me up with cramps like an hour before my alarm goes off and i can't go back to sleep :/)

⟡ other than that i just chilled and posted some headcanons for sammy! i did not in fact do any homework but its fine because ill do it on sunday or monday since i have monday off as well.

⟡ then i packed bc im going to my moms for the weekend bc i have a pool party tmrw !

anyways thank you guys for reading my recap of the week!! twas a little hectic but hopefully next week runs more smoothly loll

[ifhymona]

٭* Not Too Late *٭

Chapter 5 | chino moreno x reader

chapter 4 ~ chapter 6 | AO3

1.6k words

y/n’s pov:

being back with the band felt great. it was even better this time now that there was no more grudges. i think my new favorite thing to do is hang out with them.

they’ve been really good in practice lately. abe really is the coolest drummer i’ve ever seen. i find myself always focusing on his drums. stephen and chi’s riffs compliment each other very well. and chino’s voice is nothing like anything i’ve heard before. i honestly think if one of them were gone, doesn’t matter who, the band would be incomplete.

a new venue bar named the whiskey junction had just opened up in sacramento and it’s been hot recently. a lot of popular local bands have been playing there lately. i’ve been working my ass off to get this gig because i think they deserved it. i was excited to tell them the big news.

i walked into the garage when they were practicing one of their songs. i sat there on the couch and listened to them. i always enjoyed listening to all of their new stuff. i felt special to be their audience for every song.

right when they finished their song, i jumped up. “you guys will never believe what i was able to pull off!”

“oh yeah? what’d you do?” abe asked curiously.

“i was able to get you guys a gig at the whiskey junction, the new bar in town!”

“no way!!” they all cheered.

“how were you even able to book us, y/n?” chi gave me hug.

“well after a lot of convincing, you can get anything.” i joked.

chino asked “when is it?”

“it’s three weeks from now. they even have a merch table we could use! you guys could sell t-shirts and some cds!”

“oh shit. we have a lot of work to do then.” chino stressed.

“don’t worry you guys. as your assistant, i’ll take care of the merch table. all you guys need to focus on is making sure you sound perfect!”

“i mean, are you sure y/n? we can help we don’t mind.” stephen asked.

“trust me, i got it.” i said excitedly.

“well if that’s the case, i’m taking us out tonight.” chi offered.

~

chi ended up taking us to this place called hot shots. it was a bar with pool tables and an arcade. i had loads of fun with them. stephen kept beating all of us though. i don’t understand how he’s so good at pool.

i’ve missed having a friend group. high school wasn’t the best. last i recall i had a real friend group was in middle school.

we left hot shots at around 10:30. chino dropped everyone else off first.

“i wanna take you somewhere.” chino told me.

“me? what are you gonna kidnap me?” i teased.

“what? no of course not.” he chuckled nervously. “i just-“ he collected himself. “i just thought you know we haven’t really hung out in a while. i mean we have but i meant just the two of us. like old times.” he shrugged.

“well, where would you like to take me?” i smiled.

“just you wait.” he smiled back.

~

“no way!” i ran towards the park he took me to. “i can’t believe you remember this place!”

“how could i forget? this is where we would always go when we wanted to sneak out together.” he sat down on his swing. i sat on mine.

there was an awkward tension. i guess it’s just been so long since it’s been the two of us like this. “so, what did you wanna talk about?” i asked hoping it would clear some of the awkwardness in the air.

“do you remember that one time in mr.fredrick’s PE class-“ he giggled in between his sentence. “when we were playing pickleball and i said watch this and hit the pickleball towards mr. fredrick’s bald head?” he started busting up laughing.

i joined him. “yes! then it hit is head so hard it bounced off his head and his glasses fell off!” we both were dying of laughter at this point.

when it quiet down, we both sat there just smiling thinking about the whole situation. chino spoke, changing the topic.

“so, what did you do after high school?”

i knew this question would come. i was kind of embarrassed. “promise you won’t laugh?”

he nodded. “my parents wanted me to go to college but i decided i wanted to take a gap year first. then when i actually did enroll, the more time i spent there, the more i realized college just wasn’t for me. that it was more so my parents dream for me. the thing about me is, i can’t do anything for anyone else besides myself, even my parents. so i ended up dropping out.” i sighed.

“well i mean what’s there to be embarrassed about? i didn’t go to college at all.” he chuckled.

i frowned. “i don’t regret it, i just-“ i paused for a moment. “i’m just scared of being a nobody.” it went silent.

“look y/n, i know that a lot of people have made you feel like a nobody, me included, but i want you to know that people’s words don’t define who you are, your actions do. i was stupid to tell you those nasty things that day, let alone think about it. i took you for granted and today you proved everybody wrong. you did the band a real huge favor and i’ve never been more grateful ever.”

i wanted to cry so bad. i wiped my watery eyes and nervously laughed. “can i hug you?”

“do you even need to ask?” he stood up and offered his hand out to me. when i grabbed his hand, he pulled me into his chest and wrapped his arms around me. he held me as i let out a few tears onto his shirt. he rested his head on mine and we embraced each other. it felt like an eternity holding him. i wish it was an eternity.

i pulled back. “thank you so much chino. i’ve been needing that.”

“anytime y/n.” we sat back down.

“enough about me. what did you do after graduation?”

“summer after graduation was when we started the band. one day we randomly found out stephen knew how to play guitar so we all just randomly decided to start the deftones. i didn’t expect we would take the deftones very seriously and pursue this band as our career but i mean we did.” he chuckled.

“luckily stephen’s uncle had this mechanics garage that was owned by him but he never used it. so he let us takeover on it since he knew we needed a place to practice without disturbing anyone. we worked our asses off to try and establish our sound and who we wanted to be. then we got signed with our record label, maverick and dropped adrenaline. adrenaline was selling pretty well so we started doing lots of more shows. soon we couldn’t handle everything by ourselves since we’re not the most tedious people and boom you got hired as our assistant.”

“i honestly would’ve never thought you would become famous. not that i’m saying i never believed you couldn’t do it but you know what i mean. it’s cool seeing my best friend do good for themselves. at least one of us will make it out of sacramento.”

“pshh what are you talking about? i’m taking you with me.”

i blushed. “you guys will need to get a professional assistant sooner or later. i thought i was only a temporary assistant.”

“are you crazy? you’re the best assistant anyone can ask for. i’d rather have my best friend as an assistant than some weird professional robot who follows my orders. i ain’t no dictator.” he joked making me giggle.

he stared at me for a moment. “wait here.” he got up and ran to his car. he shuffled around in his trunk. his face lit up when he found what he was looking for. it was a blur for a moment until i was able to make out what it was. a polaroid camera.

“what’s that for?” i asked as he was walking back up the the swing. i scrunched my face at him.

“let me take your picture.” he smiled.

i rose my eyebrow. he knew how i felt about having my picture taken. “i don’t know, chino.” i shrugged.

“cmon, y/n, don’t be like that. just this once.” he clasped his hands together and pouted. “please? for me?” damn chino and his irresistible charm.

i smirked and rolled my eyes. “okay fine. but just this once.”

he grinned and got the camera ready. “smile!” i grinned back at him into the camera. the flash blinded me making me squint.

when the photo appeared, i looked at it in disgust. “burn it.”

“oh har har very funny y/n.” he rolled his eyes.

“i’m just saying!” i rose my hands up in defense. “look at how stupid i look!” i said pointing at my face.

“well i happen to like how you look in this photo.” chino chuckled.

i never wanted this night to end. and i think he didn’t want it to end either. we talked and talked and talked. i think we could’ve stayed talking but we started getting tired and i didn’t want chino to be super sleepy since he had to drop me off still.

~

we pulled up to the front of my house. it was 1:30.

“so, we’re here.”

i sighed. “yeah.” we sat there in silence for a moment. i didn’t wanna go.

“thanks for agreeing to come out with me tonight. i had a lot of fun.” he smiled.

“me too chino.” i kissed his cheek before i got out of the car. i smiled and waved bye to him. he waited till i got inside to drive off.

a/n: new chap will be out next week ! lots of love <3

[buglaur]

get to know me tag

useless info edition

thanks for tagging me @futurelabs!

1. what do you have under your bed?

a few cardboard boxes full of old school books and copies, some board games, a couple pairs of shoes, and a bunch of spider families probably

2. favourite sweet? (be specific if possible)

parma violets mmmmmm i could live off them. luckily i’m the only person i know that likes them, so whenever we open a box of sweets i always get all the packets. i would also kill for dipdabs. AND i adore drumstick squashies

3. describe your favourite t-shirt

a white t-shirt with the can’t stand the rezillos album cover on it. i got it this year from the rebellion punk festival in blackpool. i’ve had 4 occasions where people i’ve never met before approached me and told me they love the band!! so i love it for that lol

4. the last thing you drew/doodled?

i was doodling my goose keychain in class today. it’s this yellow flower one, my friend named him dain. he’s become sort of like our good luck charm 😫

5. are you completely sober right now?

i have had 2 energy drinks worth of caffeine today but that doesn’t count, so yeah. i’ve got three fatfrogs for friday night though, they’re like lemonade vodka drinks, because i’m gonna start watching a new tv series with my dad, which i’m looking forward to!

6. what's the one thing that annoys you more than anything?

i fucking hate umbrellas with a burning rage. every time i touch one they snap in half or turn inside out or rip and i think we should just get rid of them all. they’re the bane of my existence and i would rather walk through a hailstorm than use one.

another thing, and this actually bothers me so much i lost sleep for like 3 days the first time it happened. i like to have my laptop volume at 30. it’s been at 30 for 2 years. after one of the recent updates, it just will not stay at 30??? it always goes down to 29 or up to 31 and will not stay at 30 when i set it there. why can’t i have it at 30??? i just want it to be an even number pleaseee 😫

7. have you ever gotten your tongue stuck to a cold pole during winter?

no and i think if i did it would kill me. i have raynaud’s and just walking outside in the slightest cold breeze causes me to lose all feeling in my hands and feet lmao. hot water bottles are my best friend. if it snows i can barely leave the house for more than 10 minutes

8. if you could be anywhere in the world right now, where would it be?

in my bed with my old 3ds and 10 weighted blankets piled on top of me please, or i’d love to take my dog up into the fields behind my house but it’s too wet and i don’t want him to catch a cold. he’s barely taller than the grass and he’s very high maintenance, he’d just demand to be carried. 

9. what was the single last word you spoke?

no idea but probably like “bye” or something, when i left my friend

i never know who to tag so i tag you reading this

[slowpoke272]

“catch-22″ by joseph heller

finished: june 30, 2023

I DID IT, AFTER SEVERAL ATTEMPTS IN MY ADOLESCENCE AND MAYBE 1-2 OTHER TIMES DURING MY TWENTIES, I WAS FINALLY ABLE TO READ THIS BOOK. ooooof, we’ve a lot to unpack here!

idk what it was about starting this book and not being able to keep going. i think my ability to not get through this book was probably one of the biggest indicators that traditional reading, while preferred, was not my most efficient way of capturing books and stories. i’m fine with that now, but it took me a long time and some significant ego death to get here. basically, i loved this book, it’s everything i always wanted from a war novel, it’s satire and whimsy and absurd and unchronological and the characters are not reliable narrators and the novel is relentlessly indirectly addressing so much about america, war, soldiers, and the human condition. all rolled into one book. supremely masterful.

my only criticism about the book is that i think it was too long. i do, however, love the way we were able to get so in depth with all the characters, all the angles that came with their decisions, and it wasn’t just solely focused on “yossarian good guy, we want to bring him home!” but there was so much more to it than that. i think the parts i didn’t particularly care for were the action scenes, but also some of the funniest moments were in there, too. idk, i might have a different opinion on this upon a second read, and this is a novel i’ve had a hardcopy of for years, so i will certainly be reading it again.

i also have to point out the irony of me reading this book right now, just before the 4th of july holiday. other war holidays (memorial day, labor day, veteran’s day {damn we have so many holidays about war and military huh lol}) maybe take a back seat to 4th of july this year, if for no other reason than the fourth falling on a tuesday this year, and therefore providing me a four day weekend instead of the usual three day weekend. as a child, i was a good lil american and would be excited to go see fireworks, we would have pie or whatever, my mom always bought us the newest line of old navy shirts with the american flag plastered all over them. as i grew into my own person and learned what america was really all about, specifically our military operations, i drifted away from this holiday and all its traditions. i don’t fight about it with my parents but it’s sort of like how my husband stopped going to church and his parents had a hard time accepting it at first, but eventually understood that was who he was; i don’t need this holiday and i don’t need to jerk off america. don’t get me wrong, love to all the soldiers and everything, but the principal of the matter is i don’t think anyone should die in war, ever, the fact that war even exists at all is so bizarre and insane to me. humans adapted over millions of years, learned to use tools and the resources available to us, built fires and homes and cities and made social structures and communities... all just to have it blasted away because of greed and racism, basically. tell me any war or “conflict” is about anything else, i dare you. it’s not. it’s always those two, sometimes both.

anyways, i grew up around my parents and my parents’ parents watching M*A*S*H and the like. my grandpa served in the army as well as other family friends and extended family members. near the end of my grandpa’s life, when i had enough curiosity and inquisition to ask about his military life is when he dwindled away to barely even being able to acknowledge it at all... so i never really got anything negative about war or the military, if anything it’s been super glorified throughout my life. queue soldiers coming to high school campuses to recruit, 9/11, and more friends and family joining different branches of the government and it’s been quite a different story. all that is to say that i’ve never felt comfortable with the idea of war, or even organized military, and these days i “celebrate” my long fourth of july weekends with my husband and cats, not seeking out fireworks and not wearing any flags. i think the last time i wore an american flag was when i was 16, i’m ashamed to admit that but it’s true.

catch-22 and joseph heller provides exactly the counterpoints to military operations that we need to hear. unfortunately, like most well-intentioned novels, the people who need to hear these ideas most are the least likely to be exposed or actually think critically about it. they are the next major major majors and will eventually become major major major majors in their obedience and loyalty, unless they get unalived in combat first. i deeply love how some parts of this novel were so whimsy and absurd, but that ending with snowden is gut-wrenching. also the alley scene in italy... with the SA. if you’ve read the book, you know the one. joseph heller is a remarkable author and i would be interested in other works of his but this is definitely an immediate favorite of mine.

the audiobook i borrowed on libby also had an extra 40 minutes of joseph heller reading selections from the novel and maaaaaaaan i wish i could buy this section alone and/or see him perform it with my own eyes. heck, it inspires me to recreate some of his prose and monologues. the back and forth between some of the characters becomes so painstaking that you can’t help but laugh. great book, immediate favorite, can’t wait to read it again and if you are like me and somehow got by 3 decades in life without finishing this book... HERE’S YOUR SIGN.

now i’m gonna reblog a bunch of things that resonated with me, but i know my favorite parts aren’t rebloggable. just read it, guys! for the love of humanity.

rating: 10/10 this deeply resonated with me, i will re-read it again numerous times and recommend it to anyone i know, the story and characters will stick with me forever; crave discussing it all the time and bring it up unprovoked

[littleragondin]

✨💛🐰🍪🌼🦋🧡🐸🌿 (you could say i'm curious or you could say i'm nosy and you'd be correct 😄)

Oh you spoil me!! Also as someone who is terminally curious, always delighted to meet a fellow Nosey Person ヽ(>∀<☆)ノ

✨Do you have any nicknames? 

Well originally my username is an irl nickname. Other than that, not really (not since high school). My name doesn’t lend itself to much shortening (or they are really super fucking ugly and I refuse to let people call me that lol).

💛Do you have any piercings?

Just a second hole in both earlobes!

🐰What do you think says the most about a person?

I answered before but I will add: how people behave with kids. Like them or not, that's not what I mean, but if you're purposely an asshole with kids? eesshhhh tells me a lot about you.

🍪If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

Here's one I truly had to think about lol but I'd probably be a Madeleine. It's a typically French cookie, it's soft and round, it usually has a light citrusy flavor and like. It comes from where my dad's from so ^^

🌼What’s the last thing you said out loud?

"let him fuck off to Japan" (maybe I'm a little glad my boss is gonna be away for two weeks ok ok ok)

🦋Describe yourself in three words.

Oof that’s a difficult one. Maybe tall, dramatic, funny?

🧡A color you can’t stand?

The Pantone 104/111/118/125/132 diagonal. Those brownish greenish yellowish shades just make me cringe. 

🐸Describe your aesthetic.

I think "30-something nerd who got stuck in their college student phase" encompasses the most of it for like, my fashion aesthetic. My place is more like "a color blind, cartoon obsessed nerd threw up all over that book/stationnery shop!! - also put on some fairy lights I guess"

🌿Describe your favorite outfit. 

Skinny jeans, black shirt, glittery black Doc Martens, my red jacket with the huge, baseball bat carrying wolf on the back of it!

[mmhaterade]

The 2023 Hater's Guide to the West Region

This blog is not in any way affiliated with the NCAA, its entities, subsidiaries, or member institutions. This is a humor site and should be treated as such. We’re all on our way out – act accordingly.

1. Kansas (28-6). When Texas beat Kansas to end the Big 12 (8?) regular season, the intrepid videographer shooting the game happened to catch a KU coed wearing a t-shirt which read “I (heart) Dick.” A-fucking-mazing. Look, I don’t have to tell you KU fans need this one seed, need the wins, need a title more than anything to justify their continued existence. They live in Kansas for fuck’s sake – Interstate 70 ends in Lawrence and you are stuck wandering the plains like Denzel Washington in Book of Eli until you reach Colorado, and the interstate magically appears again. There is NOTHING to do here other than watch basketball, and that says a lot, because I live in Iowa!

2. UCLA (29-5). This is a Bruin, right? With that face, I am 100% sure his name is “Crick Monin.”

3. Gonzaga (28-5). There is a new Constitutional amendment which clearly states you are no longer allowed to refer to Gonzaga as a Cinderella school. It’s been twenty five years - I think the slipper finally broke. They’ve now been in every final AP poll since the 2008-09 season, and have appeared in every weekly AP poll since 2016-17, a streak of 115 consecutive weeks. I will never stop laughing when eighth year senior Drew Timme appears on my TV screen. All I see is TIMMY from South Park. Fuck John Stockton.

4. UConn (25-8). Go back to the AAC! Biggest group of crybabies in the country and it isn’t even close. When their women’s team had an injury plagued season (lost five games including back-to-back games for the first time in 30 years), Geno Auriemma vented to the media and to his team, telling them they had three days before the conference tournament to fix things. Then he got in his car and drove home to Manchester, wishing he could continue westward. “The way I felt was I want to wake up in California in three days,” he said. “I just want to keep driving, I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to come to practice.” Jesus man, just fucking quit already and move away from that awful place. Twitter account CrimsonCast put it best: UConn continues to fail to shake the perception that they are simply an analytics darling. Like an east coast version of the Mountain West.

5. Saint Mary’s (26-7). Every bracket, no matter the site, always lists this school as “Saint Mary’s (CA).” Why? No one is confusing this school for the archaeological dig site posing as a university in Maryland, or the all-women’s college in north-central Indiana where many of the enrolled students play for nearby Leprechaun U, also known as Notre Dame. No, this is the school – in California – that gets exclusive coverage on ESPN Australia/New Zealand. Sixty percent of the student body is involved in organized athletics here, so it’s a good chance you’ll be handed a scholarship and some sort of ball upon move-in. It’s either that or forced labor washing jockstraps.

6. TCU (21-12). Their coach gives out a pair of “charge socks” when a Horned Frog player takes a charge. There’s a big bucket of these colorful dress socks in the TCU locker room. Charge socks? You have to be kidding me. You are in the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex, you can’t find a bag of blow or an extra couple of c-notes for your athletes? (Producer cuts in…garbled static…). Pardon me, I’ve just been informed that the “C” in TCU stands for “Christian.” There is no cocaine on campus. But NIL is legal now, surely you can find something other than a pair of sweaty dress socks to reward your unpaid employees. Perhaps a sad handjob from a coed who has already put on the freshman 15+15+15?

7. Northwestern (21-11). Congratulations, you finished top three in the Big Ten for the first time since 1960. You won your last conference championship 90 (!) years ago. You have made one (1) NCAA tournament and had to be retroactively selected as something called the Helms National Champion. Your most successful head coach played for Phog Allen at Kansas – in 1917! Northwestern basketball is the definition of futility. They are the Chicago Cubs of the NCAA; fitting for a program that markets itself as “Chicago’s Big Ten team” (insert jerking off hand motion here). Even if Northwestern won 25 games a season for the next 25 years, they would still have a losing record.

8. Arkansas (20-13). It is against state law to mispronounce “Arkansas'' while in the state, yet their residents  pronounce jalapeno “Holla-PEE-no.” Gun to my head, I wouldn’t be able to look at Sarah Huckabee Sanders naked, playing with a hula hoop, for more than a second.

9. Illinois (20-12). Brad Underwood is a bargain-bin Gene Keady who is very upset about “booty ball.” Every press conference he attends ends with him making a wet fart sound into the microphone.

10. Boise State (24-9). No one gives a shit about this team unless tater tots rise to $6 a bag – then it’s time to storm the blue court. I know exactly one person from Idaho and their personality matches that of the official state produce. This person is incapable of being corrected. They are always right. You are always wrong. If you say the sky is blue, their response will no doubt begin with “well, actually…” Boise is also not a state, you arrogant fuckhead.

11. Arizona State (20-12) or Nevada (23-9). Over 60% of the student body at ASU has some form of herpes. Unless you are a model, they throw you in an engineering building for four years. If you hate Duke just like the rest of America, you generally hate Christian Laettner and Grant Hill. But there’s one player from those early-90s teams everyone forgot: Bobby Hurley. As I’ve aged, my hatred for Hurley has waned, but I’ll always wish maximum pain for whatever team he coaches.

With the growth of legalized sports gambling across the United States, the University of Nevada has introduced several new classes for the 2023-24 school year: Kneecap Relocation, Intermediate Hammer Smashing Techniques, and Advanced Vig Calculation. Another new course addition as of Thursday morning: Getting Your Shit Pushed In By A Sun Devil Pitchfork. Too soon? Probably.

12. VCU (27-7). VCU stands for Very Completely Underwhelming. This isn’t a college, it’s an industrial laundry that has tricked 28,000 students into paying the institution to “work.” If you want a perfect example of the bloat in higher education administration, consider there are over 11,000 non-academic staff at VCU. Never trust a doctor from this school; they only practiced on centaurs.  

13. Iona (27-7). Someone is going to give Rick Pitino the best 14 seconds of his life to coach for them. 

14. Grand Canyon (24-11). By employing buzzer-beating Valpo alum Bryce Drew, this pretend university has already accomplished more in the NCAA Tournament than Mount Rushmore State, Hoover Dam U, Smokey Mountains College and SUNY-Niagara Falls.

15. UNC Asheville (27-7). Let’s have a quick check-in on how this college is doing. Student enrollment and retention are plunging at UNC-Asheville and top leadership is departing at the highest rate in the entire UNC system. While overall student enrollment in the UNC system has increased 7% since 2015, UNC-Asheville fell by a stunning 25%, the largest drop among the 16 public universities in the system. Of the incoming students UNC-A is able to attract, a high number of them leave before graduation. Retention of students, measured as those returning for a second year of school, is now just 68.6%, the lowest in ten years. Jesus, even Trump University would laugh at these numbers. 

16. Howard (22-12). Howard students recently had to protest living conditions in on-campus dorms – mold, mildew, and rats are apparently very commonplace in multiple residences. It is 2023; the only sensible reason these alarming conditions should be issues on your campus is when you have outsourced every part of the student life experience to a call center in the middle of the Himalayas.

[taserblade]

omg monday was such a good day!!

hot manager opened n i brought us energy drinks!! he gave me a big hug when i walked in, n then showed me the paper him and a coworker were burning (burning her stats to say shes on fire like doin good i believe??). this all made sense when he said he only got like three hours of sleep.

after that me n him sat in the office n just talked for awhile n i had finally washed my new underwear so i could show him!! he liked them :-)) then we decided to open the restaurant late n chill for a bit longer, buT THEN!! BUT THEN!! oh my fuckin god he let me literally pull out his dick and the only reason i wasnt confused when he just stood infront of me with his hands behind his head was bc him n a coworker literally were having a conversation ab how they r during blow jobs (i dont remember how we got there, hot manager and john cena cannot be in a room together for more than 5 mins without makin a dirty joke) and he said he was the lean back type of guy. anyways, he had told me many time how big it was but like omg its actually the perfect size. i wont even lie i wanted to put it in my mouth but i got nervous god i was probably so fucking red. he put it away and we continued talkin for while before it was finally time to open.

and the rest of the day was honestly so much fun. it was slow as shit so we just kinda fucked around the whole shift and flirted n just talked ab whatever. like how am i getting paid for this?? dream job fr. god i wish i had had a chance to write this post sooner i feel like im missing so many fun details :-(( so this next section is gonna be random things i remember but i cant remember when!!

OH!! at one point he pulled me in the office and i didnt realize he had ice in his mouth, and he just lifted up my shirt and put it on my nipple like holy fuck i almost fell over kinda knocked my breath out for a sec omg it was fuckin heavenly!! and he also said we should watch evil dead, which ive never seen!! we were talkin ab the terrifier series, which i cannot wait to see the third one with my sis!! n at one point i know he kissed me n spit ice into my mouth, which isnt the first time he’s done that :-))

he left at 4, which i was also supposed to leave at 4, but my relief was serving, and she had this one two too that just wouldnt leave oh my god!! luckily, conspiracy theorist was there, and we deadass talked ab zombies for an hour. lowkey convinced me to read world war z. and this series called zombie fallout? he said he used to get high n listen to the audio books, which sounds ab right for him. i will get high with that man and ask him ab conspiracies (and apparently also have to fight him off from tryin to fuckin me?? im too hot, all the managers want me) i just know i would have a fucking blast.

finally got home around 5:15, n then i went shopping!! i went to marshalls, five below, and ross to look for some fall decorations but i rlly didnt find much. i got two rugs, a bathroom organizer, and some new place mats for our table. i wanted to spend more but there was genuinely nothing there i wanted :-((

got home n told my bf i wanted to go to my sisters work n get some food n drinks up there!! we got there around 7:30 n luckily the rush had just died so she wasnt busy at all. i got two amazing margs n the same food i always get n it was so good omg. and while we were there, she told us that our younger sis snapped her n told her that our mom finally told her shes divorcing our stepdad!! rlly proud of my mom bc shes been saying this for years, but i guess shes finally pulling the trigger!! me n my sister r going bong shopping for her roommate wednesday n we r gonna call her together to get the full scoop.

all in all, monday was a rlly good day n i cant for wednesday to hang out with my sister!! and i know me n hot manager work together on saturday!!

cant wait to tell yall what my mom says!!