#so the thing is that i meant to schedule that to post ON my actual birthday

[miodiodavinci]

im being so so brave but also i am gripping you by the shoulders and leaning in and letting you know i am so tired of being brave

[muzzlemouths]

birthday? day birth?

KSKDLFJSDFJHDSKJFSDH HAHA two-ish weeks ago, yeah

[arolesbianism]

I should rly get around to designing the Jackies and Olivias from my swap aus now that I have ideas for how to differentiate them for their non swapped counterparts, but at the same time the eternal dread of having to commit to either keeping or changing the gravitas uniform for the swap aus hangs over me with ever increasing pressure, so maybe I can just only draw headshots of them and commit to that til the end of time instead

[chilling-seavey]

↳ A/N In some of my casual concepting I do in my spare time, this random blurb idea came out of it and I had to flesh it out to post because it genuinely [and embarrassingly] made me laugh out loud.

↳ Summary: Your curious two-year-old son discovers something he shouldn't.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 2.3k

↳ Warnings: Unedited. Mentions of adult related items in not adult situations, possible secondhand embarrassment, honestly it's just a good ol' lighthearted silly blurb

“You never realize how much useless stuff you have until you’re packing.”

George chuckled at your sentiment as he leaned against the open doorway to your shared bedroom, arms crossed over his chest and his skin tight work-out shirt. He had just returned from his early afternoon gym session — skillfully scheduled right over your two-year-old son’s nap time — and had found you amongst another round of attempting to pack up your Monaco apartment for your impending move. 

With a toddler and balancing George’s chaotic race schedule, it was hard to actually find time to dedicate to packing so you took any chance you could get. It was a slow but sure process; but also meant you were going to be living out of cardboard boxes for a few weeks. How glamorous. 

“As good a time as any to bin anything useless then.” George replied, watching you putter between the dresser and the half-filled cardboard box positioned on the foot of the bed. “Only important things are coming with us.”

Your freshly awake and quite lively two-year-old was blissfully exploring your bedroom, wobbling around your legs and into every corner as he babbled away to himself. His favourite toy car was clutched in one hand (he rarely went anywhere without it) as he peered into open drawers of the dresser and explored the half closed cardboard boxes neatly lined up by the wall. 

“The only important things I need are you two.” you replied to your husband with a proud smile. 

George’s eyebrows raised as a smirk pricked his lips and he pushed off the doorway to saunter farther into the room, “Oh, really? Well, then, we might as well just live in one of these boxes since we need nothing else but each other.”

You smiled back at him as he approached you, his hands navigating to your hips like second nature. Fiddling with the random cluster of wires you had pulled out of your bottom dresser drawer, you kept his tender eye contact as you replied to him softly, “As much as that is so appealing, I feel we may have Children’s Aid called on us.”

Before George could offer any sort of rebuttal, your toddler let out a giddy squeal from across your room followed by an adorable, “Uh oh!”

You both looked over quickly to see what he had gotten into now (foolish of you both to even take your eyes off him for more than three seconds), only to find your two year old beside one of the packed cardboard boxes, bottle of lube in hand. Except the bottle had been opened by his tiny nimble fingers and he was squirting the clear substance all over his hands and arms. That was NOT something either of you wanted your son to get a hold of.

Your eyes widened in sheer shock, “Oh-”

George felt his heart drop into his stomach, instantly moving away from you with a stern call of your son’s name followed by a, “No, no, no.”

He bent down beside the toddler and quickly grabbed him by the wrist to keep him from spreading the lube everywhere, his other hand snatching the now half-empty bottle from him. George looked back at you, shock and embarrassment written all over his face.

Despite the unideal situation, you couldn’t help the amused smile that threatened to spread across your face and you lifted a hand up to your mouth to try and hide the upturn of your lips.

“Yucky!” your son giggled, clapping his hands together to make the wettest slapping sound.

“Jesus.” George muttered with a shake of his head, reaching over the kid to set the slippery bottle on the bedside table for the time being. He had a toddler now smeared in lube to deal with first and, God, he didn’t know where to start. Staring down at the smiley kid, he directed to you (or the universe), “Why does he have to find the most embarrassing stuff to play with?”

You went back to trying to untangle the clump of cords as you offered half teasingly, “Maybe we should look into drawers that lock for our new house.”

“Yeah, maybe you're right. We should start locking up everything before he goes destroying the whole place before we are even moved in,” George said, a hint of resignation in his voice.

The little boy, with one wrist still in George's firm grip, reached out his other hand towards his father’s face, announcing proudly, “Slimy.”

George leaned his head back, out of the toddler’s reach, with a strained, “Oh, no. No, no, no, don't you dare-”

With an amused giggle, the toddler took his hand back and, instead, went to bring his little fingers to his mouth to taste. 

George saw what he was about to do and his eyes widened in horror. The last thing he needed was his son putting lube in his mouth.

“No, hey, stop that!” George exclaimed, quickly grabbing your son’s other wrist with his other hand to prevent him from touching his mouth. “You can't put that in your mouth, mate. It's all kinds of wrong. It's for adults only!”

Threading the cords through your fingers, you offered unhelpfully, “Well, it is safe for consumption, technically.”

George shot you a dirty look, only half truly exasperated, shaking his head in disbelief at your comment. Your attempt to hide your laughter wasn't going unnoticed.

“Oh, yeah, because that's reassuring,” he replied sarcastically, “Safe for consumption or not, our son does not need to be putting that in his mouth. Especially not while it's all over his hands like this!”

“Little one needs a bath, I think.” you said in a gentle voice.

George nodded in agreement, his annoyance quickly replaced by a resigned sigh. He hadn’t even had a moment to wash off from his gym session himself and now he had to deal with a lubed up toddler’s majorly required bathtime. 

“Yeah, you're right. He's made quite a mess of himself, hasn't he?” George said, still holding tight to your son’s tiny wrists to prevent him from getting more lube all over the place.

“Did you want me to bathe him?” you offered, easily noting the slight frustration in his voice.

“No, that’s alright, I can handle him.” George relented and cautiously let go of the little boy’s wrists so he could pick him up under the armpits and set him on his hip. He started to walk around the cardboard boxes towards the ensuite, speaking to your son in a stern but affectionate tone, “Alright, mate, let's get you clean. You're sticky and slimy, and Daddy's not too happy about it.”

He barely stepped foot in the bathroom when the little boy smacked a slimy palm against his father’s cheek with a giggle. 

George's eyes widened in shock and disgust, grabbing his wrist again with his free hand and a firm huff of your son’s name, “Ugh, seriously? That's gross!”

You spoke before you could think, a smirk playing at your lips at the entire situation, “You've had it in worse places.”

At your comment, George shot you a disapproving look over his shoulder, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Of course, you had to bring that up at the most inopportune moment. Trying to keep his voice even as he continued into the bathroom, he replied with a flat, “Now is not the time for that kind of smartass remark, love.” 

Once they were inside the bathroom, George set the two-year-old down on the ground next to the bathtub. He turned on the water, making sure it was the right temperature before testing it with his hand, not bothering to interact with how the little boy smacked his greasy hands on the front of his shorts.

“Okay, buddy, let's get you cleaned up,” George said, still trying to sound stern despite the underlying amusement he felt from the whole situation. He started to take off the boy’s clothes, one piece at a time, while shaking his head in disbelief.

The little one squirmed, protesting with a little whine, “Nooo bath, Dada.”

George let out a sigh as your son protested against the bath, his toddler stubbornness making itself known once again. The joys of the terrible and trying twos.

“Oh, come on, mate, you need a bath. You're all sticky and slimy. You'll feel much better afterward, I promise,” he said, gently but firmly, trying to keep up a patient demeanor while he removed the last of his clothes. He folded them haphazardly and left them on the closed toilet lid beside the tub.

The toddler tried to put his fingers in his mouth again.

Once more, George caught his wrist just in time, “No, no, no, we don't do that. Keep your hands out of your mouth, you little rascal.”

Without wasting another second, George lifted the toddler up and into the bathtub and immediately submerged his hands to try and get the worst of it off. Of course, he would still need a scrub since the lube somehow got everywhere. George then grabbed a washcloth and started to lather it up with some baby-safe soap.

“You know, I never imagined I'd be bathing my two-year-old son in the middle of the day because he decided to play with lubricant,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief with a faint chuckle as he scrubbed the boy down. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him.

Unknowing what he was really talking about or meaning but still liking the soft tone of George’s voice, the little boy giggled along with him. George’s fingers raked through his son’s hair, only to find remnants of slippery lube somehow streaked through the soft strands too. 

“Yeah, it's funny now, isn't it? Just wait until you're a grown-up, and I tell this story at your wedding,” George teased in return to the clueless toddler, gently soaping up and rinsing the boy's hair. “We'll be talking all about the time you decided to turn yourself into a slimy, wriggly little mess by playing with mommy and daddy's private stuff.”

Soon, once the giggly little boy was sufficiently scrubbed and rinsed and clean, George drained the tub and wrapped him in a soft, fluffy towel.

“There we go, all clean and spiffy again.” he said, picking up the toddler and starting to dry him off with gentle pats.

Wrapped in the big fluffy white towel, the little boy looked so cute and tiny in his arms. He stared back at George with only his little face and a small tuft of damp hair poking out from the towel that nearly swallowed him, nothing but big blue eyes taking up most of his face. 

George couldn't help but melt at the sight of his son, all wrapped up in the towel, looking at him with those big, blue eyes that were his very own. It was moments like those that made all the stress and chaos and mess of parenting worthwhile. He cuddled his boy close, running his hand gently over the little one’s back over the thick fabric of the towel to keep him warm and dried.

“You're a little troublemaker, you know that?” George muttered against your son’s head before pressing a kiss to the same spot, “But you're my little troublemaker, and I love you.”

Content and warm and cozy, the little boy flopped his head onto his father’s shoulder.

George smiled and felt a warm, protective feeling fill his chest as the toddler leaned his head against his shoulder. He snuggled him closer with a soft and gentle voice, “Yeah, you're all cuddly now, huh? All that exploring and playing and bathing wore you out?”

When he carried the little one back out into your bedroom, you looked up from your packing, smiling fondly at the sweet sight of them. George, somewhat frazzled but still as handsome as ever with your son on his hip in a towel far too big for him but one that made him look ridiculously adorable. 

You greeted them softly, “There are my boys.” 

George walked over to you, his hands under the little one’s bum to hold him snuggled against his chest, his cheek resting atop his son’s head. 

“Yeah, here we are.” he said in a breathy sing-song voice, only ever used around your little one, “All cleaned up.”

Your son’s big blue eyes sought you out and he wriggled away from George’s chest to reach his tiny arms out from the towel towards you instead with a sweet call of, “Mama.”

“Come here, my little love.” you cooed, reaching for him in return. 

George passed him over to you, the exchange making the towel slip off the little boy’s body for a moment until you gathered it back from your husband’s hands and tucked it back around the toddler. George chuckled faintly at the sight of the little one just as naked as the day he was born and still searching for the comfort of your embrace.

When your son was snuggled up in your arms instead, you asked him sweetly, “What’s the big idea going through mommy and daddy’s things, hm?”

George tutted in agreement and made sure the towel was sufficiently wrapped around his little body to keep him from catching a chill. The toddler just smiled innocently and batted his long lashes at his father and clung onto your shirt. 

George shook his head, amused and charmed, “It's not fair. He's so sweet and adorable that it makes it difficult to stay cross with him.”

“He’s just a curious little explorer.” you said with a smile, peppering a few kisses to your son’s head. “Who can be cross with him for that?”

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[kianamaiart]

can i ask what the process was like for hiring voice actors for your project was like? i have my own animated project i'm working on and that seems like a big, scary step as an indie creator

I'm lucky in that a lot of the VAs I cast are friends/mutuals of mine so I just DMd them and asked for their rates/if they'd be open to working on my pilot. When I posted the character bios initially, Shara commented on DeVoid saying "I wanna voice the baddie" and I said "bet". For everyone else, I'd just send them the character bios and script to read over to make sure they were down. I was even luckier that a lot of them were just down to help me out despite me trying to pay them (i made sure to at the very least offer my services as an artist if they ever needed prints for cons in the future)

More under the cut

Of the 7 VAs, I didn't know 2 of them personally and was planning on cold emailing their agent (they both have the same one) to ask if they'd be available for something like this. I was definitely nervous and was drafting up emails for such a long time wondering how to pitch the project and make it seem appealing without tooting my own horn too much.

During this time, I'd DMd Marieve, who's my friend and coworker on Big City Greens (voice of Tilly and our voice director), and asked if she'd be open to giving me voice directing tips since I'd be working with professional VAs on my own. She was gracious enough to just work alongside me on the project which was SO helpful, I owe her my life. I mentioned to her that I was still casting and was gonna email Atlas Talent to see if I could book the two other actors. What I didn't realize is that Marieve was also with Atlas and had the same agent and is also friends with said agent. She connected us and they got back to me right away!

That was my in, and from here on is what the booking process is actually like. This is what I feel like will be the most useful to you!

I told them who I was looking to book and they asked if they could get more info on the project. I sent them all my pitch materials so they knew this was a legitimate thing that was happening. I'd had pretty much the whole board and all the scripts done at this time. I feel like having actual, tangible work to show will really help your chances. The talent will know what they're getting into and if they're open to doing the project. Oh and also, if you have some VAs cast and are going to cast more, mentioning who you have already can also give you leverage and make you seem more legitimate. Ooh and also also, I let them know I was massively open to improv which I feel a lot of actors enjoy. A big selling point for this project.

They passed this along to the actors and I also made sure to tell them my budget. I was told by another VA friend that VO rates usually range from $200-300 an hour (you can shoot lower for indie projects). I told them I could do $200/hr but since they're pretty high profile, I was willing to negotiate.

The agent got back to me saying that the actors really liked the script and were willing to do it for free/at a discounted rate which meant the absolute world to me. Both of them are sweethearts and I also owe them my life. From there we scheduled zoom sessions and also studio times (we recorded one of them in person which was so sick). I'd say zoom's the way to go so you don't have to pay to rent a studio out and most VAs, due to the pandemic, have at home setups. There was a lot of scheduling back and forth involved with the agents and the studio but it all worked out and boom! Had em recorded in the next couple weeks.

I will say, it's ALWAYS worth asking and reaching for the stars. VAs are artists too and generally like being on fun, creatively fulfilling projects. You never know who'd be willing to be on your project if you never ask~

[homunculus-argument]

I recently saw a post by phantomrose96 that proposed what she called the Shot Dog Factor representing "the chance any given interaction results in a Shot Dog response." Which is where someone comes along acting like a post shot their dog. She goes on to say that it is never 0 (somebody will eventually respond poorly to anything if you get enough interactions), but I saw it and thought of you.

I'm sorry to say that somehow you seem to have a pretty high Shot Dog Factor by default; to the point where I wonder if some people follow you looking for opportunities to feel aggrieved or if you just break containment on the regular.

Not sure if this link will work but here's the post in question: https://www.tumblr.com/phantomrose96/766275512406507520/op-the-fact-that-you-called-it-this-has

Nah yeah this is something that's been following me my whole life. I was in first grade and other kids would automatically interpret me wrong whenever I said a thing. I'd tell them that snakes are not slimy, they're shiny because they're smooth, it would actually feel nice to pet one, and there's a public outrage of how disgusting I am because I want to touch slimy things.

I remember this one time I was musing to my sister that I'd like to live the kind of a life where nobody tells me where I can't bring my dog, and nobody tells me when I can't have a beer. What I meant was that I'd like to live a simple, quiet life unrestrained by outside schedules, where I could decide at noon to have a beer with my lunch because nobody's going to unexpectedly call me and demand me to drive somewhere. One where I'm free to be and go as I please, work when I feel like working, have all my tasks be casual errands where I can take my dog along and have a lil buddy I'm hanging out with.

And my sister looked at me in outraged disgust and said "so you just want to be drunk all the time?!"

[chukys-mouthguard]

Could you do where the reader is a singer and dating Luke hughes and if you are a taylor swift fan you know how she said karma is the guy on the chiefs instead of on the screen you you do where Lukes family and friends are at the readers concert and karma is a song she wrote and she changes to karma is the guy on the deviles and the whole tent where his family and friends are goes wild and making him blush. If that makes since.

my muse

1.5k words

genre: fluff

featuring: luke hughes x famous singer girlfriend

summary: your world tour makes a stop in New Jersey the same weekend as the hughes bowl, so you seize the opportunity to reveal your relationship with Luke to the world

note: i just made up lyrics versus using an actual artists lyrics, but that is really the only thing i changed regarding this request 🫶🏼🩵 i am not super thrilled with how this turned out, but i still wanted to post this because i thought the request/idea was super cute with luke

You weren’t sure how the universe smiled on you when your schedule magically aligned with the annual Hughes Bowl, but it meant that the Hughes could all attend your show together. And while your relationship with Luke wasn’t yet public, you knew there were some rumors going around that their presence certainly wouldn’t help to silence.

As you got the finishing touches done to your hair and makeup, you headed off to do some pre-show photo ops. Having invited a few local friends backstage, along with Luke and his family.

“Hey guys!”

Greeting the Hughes you hugged both Ellen and Jim before moving to Quinn and Jack. Saving Luke for last as you gave him a kiss before you invited them all to get a photo with you.

“Thank you so much for the tickets, you really didn’t have to do that honey. You know we would’ve gladly bought our seats to support you!”

Ellen wrapped you in another hug, going on to tell you how nervous Luke was to have them all here with him for your show.

“Oh stop, it’s the least I could do for you all. You’ve always been so supportive of me and my career, as well as me and Luke.”

Looking over Ellen’s shoulder you watched Luke and his brothers talking with some of your friends they’d be sharing their suite with for the night.

“Is he really nervous?”

Ellen nodded with a smile, taking your hands as she pulled you to the side to talk.

“He said he’s nervous because you two aren’t officially public, and he knows that all of us being here is probably going to fuel those rumors even more. So he just doesn’t want all of us being here to stir anything up.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m not even worried about that! I want you all here one hundred percent! Maybe I should talk to him? Calm him down a bit?”

With a chuckle you headed over to steal Luke away, taking his hands in yours as you found a seat across the room. A smile on his face as he hadn’t stopped staring at you since you’d walked in the room.

“How are you?”

Luke chuckled at the question, a bit shocked that you were asking him those words.

“Well, you’re the one about to go perform for thousands of people and you’re asking me? I’m pretty good, can’t complain.”

Rolling your eyes you laughed at him, his sarcasm always being something you appreciated no matter the situation.

“Are you nervous of people finding out about us?”

He immediately shook his head, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze as he could sense in your voice you were a bit discouraged at the idea of him being scared. But it was the furthest thing from the case. Luke wanted to scream from the rooftops that you were his, he’d always been so proud to have you as his girlfriend. But he knew that your world was so different from his, and the media could be brutal and unruly. So he wasn’t sure what they’d potentially do with the story once it broke.

“I don’t care who knows that you’re my girlfriend, let them all know. I just don’t want you to ever feel like we have to tell people our business, or feel forced to confirm anything. I think it would obviously make things easier. Like being able to come here tonight and support the most talented girl on the planet without being nervous about photos leaking online and rumors spreading.”

He smirked as his lips peppered your neck with kisses. Making sure to avoid your face so as to not mess up your makeup. He’d learned quickly that the makeup artists were not a fan of having to fix smudges from his kisses. His arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close to him, placing a quick peck on your lips before he rested his chin on your shoulder, whispering into your ear so no one around overheard.

“If you want to tell everyone, then do it. It’s not like they don’t already have an idea right?”

“Tonight?”

Pulling away you rested your hands on his cheeks as you looked at him, slightly shocked at his sudden boldness and want to go public.

“Why not? It would be the perfect time to do it. You’re in Jersey, I’m in the crowd. People are most likely going to figure it out so why not beat them to it?”

You raised an eyebrow at the idea, thinking to yourself how you might be able to work such an announcement into the show without explicitly calling it. Whispering to Luke your idea, you waited for his approval, which he gave in the form of a smile and a kiss.

“It’s going to be great, I love you.”

He wrapped you in one final hug before you had to bid farewell to everyone, the show set to start soon and you needed to go through your vocal warmups.

As you finished off yet another song it was time for the show to slow down, the next few songs being acoustics or ballads as one of the dancers brought you out your guitar.

Slipping it over your shoulder you tried to catch your breath as your heart was still racing from the previous number, the fans all screaming as you waved to a few in the front row.

“How’s everyone doing?”

You smiled as you looked out to scan the crowd, your eyes eventually falling on the sectioned off seating where Luke was sitting with his family and your friends. He gave you a reassuring smile as he knew you were about to sing the song that would contain the announcement you’d be nervous for all night.

“This next song is one off of my latest album. And while I know you all love it exactly how it is, I thought we might change up the words a little bit. It’s a special night here in New Jersey, there’s some special people in attendance. So I hope you don’t mind, but let’s see if anyone can catch it. This song is called, ‘Momma I think I love him’.”

You winked to the crowd before you heard the countdown begin to play in your in-ears. Strumming only the first few chords your fans instantly erupted over the song, all of them singing the words along with you, only making you even more nervous for the lyric change you’d barely had a chance to practice before you’d perform it live.

Looking out to Luke you caught him singing along with you, a smile on his face as he was in awe of you. No matter how many times he’d seen you perform live, he could never get over how talented you were. Loving that he was able to be here to cheer you on, just like you’d done for him so many times before.

Coming up on the ending of the song, you could feel your palms sweating, praying you didn’t drop your guitar pick or goof up the notes. Your heart was practically beating through your chest as you knew that once you sang the different lyrics, there was no turning back, and your relationship with Luke would be confirmed within minutes of the song's final chords.

The crowd watched in anticipation, knowing this was the moment of the lyric change. Their phones all pointed at you, unsure as to what you’d be saying but wanting to be sure to capture it on camera.

“He’s, six foot two with hazel eyes. But I promise you he ain’t like them other guys. He’s a, bit of a rebel. And he, plays for the Devils. Jersey 43, and he’s perfect for me. Oh momma, I think I love him.”

The roar throughout the arena made you blush as you shyly covered your face with the song coming to an end, hearing the screams over the reveal from those close enough to you. The word must have traveled fast as the crowd had begun chanting Luke’s name, your eyes immediately looking at him as you were nervous whether or not you’d done the right thing.

But Luke immediately washed those fears away, holding his hands up to you in a heart as you reciprocated. The camera men at the concert not letting the moment go unnoticed to anyone else as they quickly flashed the image of Luke up on the screen. He’d gotten a bit shy, but waved to the crowd before he forced Jack and Quinn to get on camera with him. The fans screamed louder and louder as each of the Hughes’ boys were shown.

“Well, surprise!”

You playfully spoke as you’d handed your guitar off to one of the stage attendants, fanning your face to try and calm your blush. The fans still obsessing over the news as you walked down the long runway towards the main stage to get ready for your next song.

“Hopefully the rest of the show will be just as exciting as seeing the Hughes’ brothers all in attendance, maybe if we are lucky I can get them to come on stage with me.”

You sarcastically spoke as you looked towards their section, immediately seeing them shaking their heads no as they waved their arms in disagreement. Rolling your eyes you laughed as they fans tried to encourage them.

“Trust me, you do not wanna see them dance. They are much better on skates!”

[spideysbruh]

Thank You GQ

a/n- the lil ~ means a passage of time

liked by florencepugh, y/n and 892,339 others

tchalamet GQ.

view all 371,728 comments

tstan your shoots are always the best

GQ let's do it again some time mr. chalamet

y/n oh my

timmylaurie he's so cute omg

liked by tchalamet and 170,383 others

y/n what's everyone asking for from santa?

view all 15,383 comments

timmytimstan omg t liked

yourfriend what are you getting me for christmas 🤭

y/n literally no clue ❤️

tchalamet a vinyl record would be nice

y/n liked

y/n 🤔

timmytimstan omg t commented !

timmysgf who is she ??

tchalamet oh wow.

kylesballs not him simping for a random insta model publicly LMAOO

timotheeandall y/n is NOT an instagram model omggg 💀

@y/n tweeted: need. need so bad

@sinusandsocks replied- me too girl 💀💀

@lauriesarmpit replied- no way the first tweet I see of hers is ab timmy 😭😭💀💀

@tsgf replied- how do you know it's about him?

@ynsleftear replied- trust me, she's been like this for a while 💀💀 she stays shooting her shot!!

~

liked by tchalamet, yourfriend, rachelzegler and 243,827

y/n honeymoon fades

view all 32,817 comments

sabrinacarpenter caption. i love you.

y/n liked

ynstan BEAUTIFUL GIRL

tchalamet need.

y/n liked

chalametgirl BYEEEE LMAOOOOO

tchalamet oh my.

rachelzegler absolutely gorgeous. when are we hanging out 🥺🥺

y/n im free next week <3 let me dm you w my schedule LMAOO we need to have a sleepover again I got so much to tell you

rachelzegler omg this is happening ill see you next week love

~~~

tchalamet just posted a story!

@y/n tweeted: the average person was never meant to have this much lore.

@realchalamet liked and retweeted

@ynsblanket replied- oh god what happened girl

@ynandtimschild replied- you're literally dating timothee chalamet it's okay 😩😩🙏🏼

@y/n replied- exactly!!! life is crazy.

@realchalamet liked

@timoatreides replied- wait what💀💀

@realchalamet tweeted: life IS crazy

@paulswhore replied- BROOOO !?!?!!!

@ynsgf replied- HELPP!?!?!!! at 2am is crazy

~~~

liked by tchalamet, dylanminnette, haileesteinfeld and 1,937,727 others liked

y/n two years. you've dealt with every part of me and you're still here with me. I love you more than anything my silly boy. I'll always remember the GQ issue that finally gave me the courage to dm you 💀💀

view all 123,732 comments

tchalamet ohhhh THATS why its framed in our place 🤔🤔

y/n but also cause im so proud of you 😍things can have two meanings 🫶

paulsdune TWO YEARS ?!?!!! it took yall forever to make it official huh

y/n you're telling me...

tchalamet thank god for GQ cause i was too scared to dm you myself 💀💀

y/n liked

lauriesyn NO WAYYYY HAPPY ANNIVERSARY YALLL

kyleshair literally my parents omg

timosbirthmark tbh it's good they waited a while to actually date, people be so quick to jump into relationships LMAOO

rachelzegler our double dates are some of my favorite memories

y/n same we gotta do it again

mariastory timothee and josh being friends omg

liked by y/n, zendaya, madisonbeer and 3,827,727

tchalamet thank you once again GQ. i think i'm much more mature this time around. and thank you for getting me the love of my life with the 2020 issue, I am eternally grateful.

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y/n oh my 😍

tchalamet liked

laurieslaurence YOU ATEEEE the lil part about y/n and how much she's helped shape you 🥺🥺🫶🫶

atreideskyle i ❤️ my boyfriend

zendaya OKAYYYYY

willyswonka he seems like such a good boyfriend to y/n

florencepugh so proud of you!!!

charliestimo the comparison to the 2020 and this one 🥺🥺 he's already grown so much 😭💔💔

ayoedebiri 🫶🫶

liked by y/n, dovecameron, addisonraee and 4,282,727

tchalamet my love deserves a post of its own. when we're apart i count down the minutes until we can be together again. you make me the best possible version of myself and i thank you for it. you are the most beautiful person inside and out, and I'm so lucky to get to not only know you, but love you as well. i love you happy two years my pretty girl.

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timosatreid "MY PRETTY GIRL" GOD WHEN 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺

y/n you just had to outdo my caption huh.

tchalamet liked

addisonraee yall are too cute pls stop

sabsyn THE HAND PLACEMENT IN THE SECOND PIC WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.

ynschals imagine how many pics they have of each other on their phones that we'll never see... 😖

yourfriend no other guy could make her as happy as you, timmy!

tchalamet and y/n liked

y/n idk if you know this but i love you

*

[youunravelme]

nothing happened in the way i wanted part 1

author's note: okay so let it be known that my FAV emily henry book is happy place (if you want a deep dive into my personality, if you want to know the inner workings of my mind, read the book) SO with that being said, this fic was inspired by that masterpiece. plus i've fallen down a matt rabbit hole as of late. just a warning, this is a LONG ass fic (74 pages and 30.3k words, not a brag, i kinda regret that it's this long bc my brain hurts) so pace yourselves okay? thank you for being the kindest people ever!! this is finished, but tumblr said what i wrote is too long. so i'm posting it in parts lolol.

summary: a year has passed and you are no closer to understanding why matt ended things and you have every plan of avoiding that thought until he comes back in town for the offseason, then suddenly he's everywhere.

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: ANGST, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, mention of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drinking, depression, panic attacks, let me know if i missed something!

after

despite being back in st. louis for six months, summer still felt like it came too fast. your thighs started sticking to the seats from sweat about three weeks ago. summer used to be your favorite season because it meant you had unlimited access to the love of your life, you weren’t sharing him with his teammates or his crazy schedule.

but he wasn’t yours anymore. matthew hadn’t been yours in six months and some change.

the second you entered your parents’ home, you tossed your keys into the bowl and slid your shoes off. it’d been six months since you moved home, and it still didn’t feel like a space where you belonged. you walked into the living room without so much as a hello from either of your parents, both of whom were posted up on the couch. they weren’t talking to each other, just letting the noise from the news fill the room instead of conversation.

“hey,” you greeted, plopping down in the recliner.

“how was work?” your mom asked.

you shrugged, not quite having the words to convey how mundane it had been. you were working on restoring a piece for this rich couple who lived in the same neighborhood as the tkachuks. it wasn’t in too bad of shape, given the fact that you were the one entrusted to work on it. if it was actually something incredibly complicated, your boss would’ve found someone else more experienced to do it.

when you entered art restoration and conservation, you thought it would be mindless. art had always been an escape for you, a chance to remove yourself from your racing thoughts. you thought that by entering the art conservation field, you could add onto something, enhance the beauty that was lost over the years of damage, instead of creating something from your own experiences.

but no one told you how hard it would be after your breakup, that you would have to learn how to pour bottles of chemical solvent into a glass when your eyes were blurring with tears. no one said anything about how you would spend hours hunched over, fixing the problems in paintings that only served to remind you that while you could mend a masterpiece, you were unable to stop and patch up the problems in your relationship. no one spoke about how you would inevitably relate to the paintings that came to you in shambles, the only difference being that clients would pay thousands of dollars for their paintings to be restored to their former glory, your ex let you fall apart alone in a city where you had no friends outside of the ones you’d made through him.

but how could you communicate that to your mother? to your father? both of whom stayed in an unhappy marriage for the sake of optics? how could you tell them that it’s been months and you were still no more over your ex than the day it ended? how could they understand you? they stayed together out of convenience, out of a fear of ending their marriage only to never find someone else.

it had been six months since your relationship ended, and you were no closer to understanding why.

“just a mundane day,” was all you said instead. “nothing to write home about.”

both of your parents hummed.

“did you have dinner already?” you asked.

“was gonna order pizza,” your dad said.

your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “no alan, we had plans to see chantal and keith tonight for dinner.”

you wanted to throw up.

you weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe some loyalty from your parents? though, they weren’t fully privy to all the information about the demise of your relationship with matt, so maybe you couldn’t expect them to stop hanging out with his parents, especially when said parents were such great people.

“oh,” was all you could say.

“you’re more than welcome to order takeout and watch a movie,” your mom commented, like you needed permission to make yourself at home when you were actively living there. “i’m sure ronald would appreciate your company.”

you glanced at the tabby cat who was perched on his cat tree. personally, you had no issue with ronald, but he liked your mom and your mom only. though on occasion, he would allow your dad to pet him. 

“i’ll figure something out,” you said.

your mom hummed before she stood up to go get ready while your father stayed on the couch. it was only another ten minutes before he got up to change quickly, and another five before they left the house without so much as a goodbye.

before

you were incredibly aware that you didn’t quite fit in. your mom drove you to school in a beat up 1997 toyota camry which looked incredibly out of place among the bmws and audis. your mom offered to walk you in, but she was wearing her scrubs from her night shift and her face looked tired, so you declined the offer and got out of the car yourself.

it shouldn’t have been as daunting as it was, but your old school wasn’t as prestigious as this one. your previous schools in cedar rapids had been public schools. no one was wearing a uniform, and most of the backpacks worn came from the same walmart in your old neighborhood. 

but your parents had decided they wanted a better education for you, even if neither of them had the money to fork out thousands of dollars for a private school. your mom’s parents, however, were loaded. they were more than willing to fork out a small fortune for your schooling under the conditions of your family uprooting your lives to missouri. you were too young to realize what a sacrifice that was, you didn’t notice the snide comments your grandparents made about your father’s choice of career or your mother’s choice in husband.

you didn’t see your grandparents any more than you usually did since you’d moved to missouri two weeks ago. they’d been out of town on a trip to rome up until three days ago and hadn’t reached out to have dinner or hang out at all.

not that you cared at the age of nine, you were more focused on unpacking your room. but now that you were standing in front of the giant school alone, you felt like you should’ve been more concerned with how nice your school supplies were.

a kind woman greeted you at the entrance of the school. she smiled and introduced herself, though you couldn’t hear her over the roaring in your ears. she stood next to a blond haired blue eyed boy who was your height.

“are your parents here?” you weren’t sure how you heard her over the noise in your head.

you shook your head. “my mom had to go home and my dad is at work.”

the woman blinked. “is today your first day?”

“mom, it’s everyone’s first day of school,” the boy groaned.

“i wasn’t talking to you, matthew,” she said, though her eyes never left your own.

“i just moved here,” was all you said, albeit a bit quietly. 

“well, you can walk in with us.” She placed a warm hand on your back and ushered you inside next to her son.

you took notice of her nicer clothing compared to your mom’s scrubs or your dad’s tattered khakis, though the woman’s clothing wasn’t as ostentatious as other parents’.

“do you know your teacher’s name?” the woman asked.

you nodded and showed her the crumpled paper in your hand. the night before, you were wracked with nerves and wrote your teacher’s on a blank sheet of paper and doodled around it. even at nine years old, you were concerned that you’d somehow forget. you couldn’t be more grateful for it now.

the woman’s face lit up. “oh how lucky! matthew look! you’re in the same class.”

matthew for his part, tried to look happy about it, but his eyes kept wandering to the hallways, like he was looking for people he knew. you felt bad for even being in this situation. you missed your friends from iowa and the light up shoes you used to wear before you were given a uniform.

matthew’s mom pointed out the classroom that was supposed to be yours and walked both you and matthew into the room. unlike her son, who immediately found his friends to do elaborate handshakes with, you stayed by her side. she was a stranger, sure, but she was more comforting that the classroom of fifteen other nine and ten year olds.

the woman sighed and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “it’s gonna be a good day, sweetheart,” she said. “mr. terry is a great teacher, he’s really kind.” you weren’t sure how she would know that, but you weren’t going to call her a liar. “and if you need anything, ask matthew. he’s been going here since kindergarten, okay?”

you nodded.

mr. terry walked over and introduced himself. he had dark skin and a bright smile, showing you to your seat. your name was on a card with fun stickers on it. next to your seat, you saw matthew’s name. now it wasn’t necessarily an unpopular name, there were three matthews in your third grade class, so you weren’t holding out hope that it was going to be the matthew you walked into class with. but two minutes later, he was plopping down into the seat to your left.

matthew looked almost startled to see you sitting next to him, but when the shock wore off he gave you a crooked smile and stuck his hand out. “i’m matt,” he said, like you two didn’t walk into class together.

you shook his hand anyway and gave him a shy smile and told him your name, just in case he didn’t see it written on your desk.

if it was even possible, his smile widened. “pretty name,” he said.

after

you’d watched a movie and half of another one by the time your parents walked through the front door. ronald jumped off the couch to greet your mother while he ignored your father.

“oh,” your dad said. “you’re still up.”

“i’m about to go to bed,” you replied, though you didn’t move from the couch.

“dinner was great,” your mom commented. “chantal and keith said to tell you hello.”

your gut twisted at the mention of their names. you loved his family, you really did, but the mention of the family that was almost yours stung when you looked at how your parents acted like roommates on the best of days.

you remembered summer days spent in the tkachuks’ backyard, watching as matt and brady chased each other while taryn tried her best to keep up. you remembered your dad picking you up from their house, and how you begged the entire ride home for a little brother or sister. he looked at your through the rearview mirror and said “we already achieved perfection, why mess that up?”

but you were grown now. you saw how their marriage barely survived raising you, and they were probably being smart by not risking your upbringing just to have another child.

you bid your parents goodnight and headed up the stairs to your childhood bedroom. it looked less like the office it was converted into when you moved out originally. you didn’t fault your parents for taking advantage of your absence, you, like many people your age, had zero intentions of ever moving back in until an unfortunate set of circumstances happened to you.

and that’s what life had felt like lately:

unfortunate.

unfortunate shit just happening to you.

it wasn't late by any means, but you were surprised when your phone vibrated with a text message. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t really befriended anyone since moving back that had you flinching at the shock of someone other than your parents (or grandparents) texting you.

you unlocked your phone and opened the message, sighing when you read its contents.

emma:

hey girl! just checking in to see if you’re still good for this weekend? no worries if you can’t make it!

you dropped the phone on your stomach and groaned into your hands as soon as they made contact with your face.

years of dating matthew meant you’d grown closer to brady and taryn and by proxy, brady’s fiancée, emma. you’d already committed to being a bridesmaid and bought the dress before your relationship with matt ended. when emma found out, she called immediately and gave you an out, said she wouldn’t take it personal, that she understood if it would be too hard.

but you remembered the countless conversations had about planning your weddings while the both of you watched the loves of your lives try not to kill each other from your spots on the back porch. and you could hear it in her voice, how much it meant to her that you would be there even if she didn’t want to push it on you. it didn’t matter that only one of you was getting the wedding you planned. the bets made on who’d get married first were obsolete now.

you wanted to text her back and say you were busy, but you hadn’t seen her much since her and brady came back in town. when the senators’ season ended in april, he and emma spent some time with her family and attended the playoff games for the panthers. now that the panthers’ season ended two weeks ago, all of the tkachuks were back in town which used to excite you.

now it just filled you with dread.

no, it’s not like you lived in the same tax bracket as matt’s family. you didn’t go to the same grocery stores unless you were tagging along. no, there was a comfortable distance between your neighborhoods and st. louis was filled with two million other people that the odds of running into him were slim.

but your anxiety preferred zero odds rather than a slight chance, and it made the logic that was once screaming at you sound like a small whisper.

you sucked it up anyway, though. seeing emma and the other bridesmaids was better than staying in your room and staring at the ceiling.

you:

i’ll be there! can’t wait!!!

and maybe you used too many exclamation points. maybe you were trying too hard to prove something no one would believe if they took longer than a split second glance at your face. you were a horrible liar, that hadn’t changed. you were just hoping by the time the weekend came around, you’d be too busy to focus on any of the pain.

before

the summer after keith retired, the tkachuks took you and your family on vacation with them to turks and caicos. your parents were stressed initially about the trip, but you were filled with nothing but excitement at leaving the landlocked state you called home.

missouri had slowly wormed its way into your heart. when your family moved, there was never a thought in your mind that you would ever come to love it like you did with cedar rapids. there was no way you’d ever consider this place your home. but then you met the tkachuks.

it’d been nearly three years since you’d first sat in that seat next to your best friend in mr. terry’s fourth grade class. now, you were splashing around in the waves with matt and brady while your parents looked from the shore.

school had been different the past two years, with matthew going to an all boys school after fifth grade while you stayed. it took some adjusting to being without him the entire school day. you didn’t want to think of yourself as codependent, or clingy, but mat was your best friend. it was an adjustment, having to make new friends in the same school.

now that wasn’t to say that you never saw matt. after your initial introductions, chantal offered to take you to and from school if your mom or dad dropped you off at their house in the morning. both of your parents jumped at the idea. your mother, who worked as a night shift ICU nurse, reveled in being able to go home and go straight to sleep. your father, whose job as an electrician required him to be on job sites early in the morning, didn’t mind it either, he had to be up early anyway.

and sure, you had to wake up earlier than you used to, but you got to eat breakfast and pretend like you were a tkachuk most days of the week (with the exception of the days your mom was off). keith would ruffle your hair as he passed you in the kitchen. taryn would race matthew for the seat next to yours.

the tkachuks felt more like your family than your own some days.

especially now when your parents went on a date that keith and chantal paid for while they stayed back at the beach house with you and their children. 

all six of you were seated around the coffee table with the game of life laid out in front of you. the evening started out with a game of uno, but that game got out of hand quickly. it took brady reversing the order and hitting matt with a draw four before your best friend lunged over the table to tackle his brother. while keith broke up the boys, chantal cleaned up uno and instructed you and taryn to pick out the least competitive game you could find.

which is how you ended up playing the game of life.

even though life had to be the least competitive game you knew, matt and brady still managed to argue over it, even going as far to rant about how unfair it was that they had to pay for home insurance. keith and chantal had just chuckled and told them to enjoy childhood while it lasted.

you found yourself smiling and laughing along.

you weren’t quite sure who won, or how anyone ever really wins the game of life, but the moment mattered more. taryn went upstairs with keith to get ready for bed while brady helped his mom in the kitchen pop a bag of popcorn. you and matthew were responsible for cleaning up the game.

“are you having fun?” he asked.

your smile was so wide, it hurt your cheeks. “i’m having the best time. this is by far the best vacation i’ve been on.”

“really?” he smiled.

you nodded emphatically. “most of my family vacations have been spent with my grandparents.”

matt grimaced, already aware of the testy relationship your mom had with her own parents. “when’s the last time you saw them?”

you had to think for a moment, while your grandparents technically lived in st. louis, they were often out of town or ignoring your family’s existence altogether. with the exception of the last saturday of every month, when you and your parents were practically obligated to eat dinner with them. you didn’t notice their judgmental comments when you were younger and mesmerized by the giant dollhouse they bought for you.

but you were older now. you knew that there were terms and conditions attached to the cellphone they bought for you on your twelfth birthday. you heard the disdain in their voices when they talked down to your father and mother for their life choices. you weren’t an idiot, you understood that every compliment they gave you was a way for them to make your parents feel inferior in comparison.

you weren’t a child to them, you were a pawn in a game you never asked to play.

“we saw them about a month ago?” you shrugged. “they’re on vacation until halfway through august.”

matt hummed. “i think we’re gonna visit mom’s parents before school starts back again.”

to your credit, you did your best to look happy for him, even if it meant that you wouldn’t see him for a week and a half. you had other friends in town! in fact, you befriended a girl named simone when you started middle school. maybe you could call her when you get back to st. louis?

evidently, your little act wasn’t convincing enough. matt nudged your shoulder with his. “you’ll be fine,” he said. “you’re probably annoyed from how much time we’ve spent together this summer. you need a break.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “i could never get tired of you, matty.”

he blinked, almost at a loss for words, it felt like. but you should’ve known better, because he was holding up his pinky a beat later. “you promise?”

you locked your fingers together. “promise.”

after

it’s just emma and her friends and taryn, you thought. you already know all of these people. there’s no reason to be stressed out.

which, to be fair, your inner monologue was right. you had absolutely no reason to be standing in front of your closet debating what to wear for as long as you had. 

before you could stop yourself, you were hitting emma’s contact and putting your phone on speaker. the dial tone rang out through the room while you waited for her to pick up. you were seconds away from ending the call when her phone sounded through the receiver.

“hey! what’s up?”

you exhaled. “i don’t know what to wear tonight.”

emma said your name through a laugh. “we’re not going anywhere fancy, i swear. it’s just dinner and then we’re going to a bar.”

you frowned. “so taryn’s not joining us after dinner?”

“no, she has other plans after dinner anyway. she said she was meeting up with some friends from high school.” as if she could see the hesitance on your face, emma spoke up again. “but you know all the other girls, it’s not like you’ll be hanging out with strangers.”

and she was right, you were in a groupchat with the other bridesmaids and found all of them to be quite pleasant.

“look, if you’re still stressed about what to wear, just wear jeans.”

“okay, but how nice is this restaurant?” you were rummaging through your closet. “because i’ve worn jeans to restaurants that weren’t supposed to be fancy and i found myself criminally underdressed.”

“yeah well, i’m better at communicating than matt is.” a gasp sounded through the receiver, like emma had just realized what she said. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—”

“it’s fine, you’re not wrong,” you said, forcing out a laugh even as your heart painfully squeezed in your chest.

“i really didn’t mean to,” she sighed. “i’m sorry, that was rude of me to bring up.”

you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. “it’s fine, emma, i swear,” you said even though there were tears pricking in your eyes. “i’ll have to face the music eventually.”

“still, it was insensitive of me to say that.”

you cleared your throat. “don’t worry about it, i’m a big girl.” you pulled the phone away from your face so you could sniffle for a second without drawing any unnecessary attention. “so jean shorts tonight?” you asked.

there was a brief silence before you heard emma’s soft sigh over the phone. “that sounds perfect.”

before

matthew kissed you for the first time when you were hanging out with mutual friends after school in eighth grade. you’d been dreaming about that moment for years ever since sixth grade when you realized matt was handsome and the flutters in your stomach weren’t just from nerves anymore.

both of you were at your friend morgan’s house sitting in her basement. she happened to live in the same neighborhood as matt. so after school, you rode home with the tkachuks like you always did and then walked to her house.

morgan was the first of your friends to get a boyfriend and she wasn’t shy about telling everyone. it was easy to be jealous of her. while you hadn’t known her as long, your other friends had made it clear she’d garnered male attention since preschool. so there was no surprise that she’d announced at school earlier that week that she was dating someone from matt’s school.

hence the party in the basement.

morgan was the one who suggested truth or dare. she had all ten of you circle up on the carpet and sit criss crossed. you were keenly aware of how matt’s knee was touching your own, you could feel the heat even through your jeans. he was leaning back on his hands, with his right hand directly behind your back,in your delusions, you let yourself pretend he was doing it to be closer to you.

“alright!” morgan cheered. “who wants to start?”

no one said a word.

you made the mistake of looking around when you caught morgan’s eye. at the sight of a growing smirk on her lips, you quickly diverted your gaze.

“c'mon, no one wants to go first?” she hummed. “fine, i’ll go. babe,” she started calling thomas babe a week ago. “ask me, truth or dare?”

the only word you could use to describe the look on thomas’ face was besotted. without hesitating, he asked her the question, smiling when she grinned back at him. morgan chose dare, because she wasn’t “boring and lame.”

thomas dared her to kiss him. there was a collective groan when she leaned over and kissed her boyfriend. the second she pulled back, morgan’s eyes flitted over the rest of the group, looking like a tiger about to pounce. the two of you made eye contact and the corner of her lips raised in a smirk that was gone as quick as it came.

you prepared yourself for the worst, recalling how you let it slip that you have a crush on matt. and morgan, while she wasn’t intentionally cruel, had all but shrieked when you told her. so you didn’t think she’d out you to be mean, you wouldn’t put it past her to attempt matchmaking.

but her eyes skipped right over you and focused on simone. “truth or dare?”

“truth,” simone replied.

morgan rolled her eyes. “nerd,” but she cracked a smile anyway.

the game went on pretty effortlessly, you even got brave enough to do a dare (thankfully morgan never got the opportunity to ask you). it ended with morgan asking matthew. the smirk she had earlier, appeared as she made eye contact with you before setting her sights on your best friend.

“truth or dare?” she asked.

you immediately knew which option he was picking, matt never backed down from a challenge and had been choosing dare all night.

“matthew, i dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

your stomach dropped as did your gaze. you couldn’t look anyone in the eye, you didn’t want to see matt kiss another girl, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t do it.

a moment passed when you realized matt hadn’t moved an inch. he was still leaning on his hands, with one stretched behind you. all it took was a quick glance at matt to see him already staring back at you.

“no,” he said, eyes still locked on your face.

morgan blinked. “what?”

it was only then that his eyes left your face to look morgan dead in the eye. “nope. i won’t do it.”

she guffawed. “but you have to!”

matt shrugged. “i don’t want to.”

“but you lose if you don’t!”

he shrugged yet again. “oh well.”

your head snapped up to look at him in confusion. “matt,” you nudged him.

“we gotta go anyway,” he said, before he stood up and reached out to you. you took his hand, albeit hesitantly before he dragged you up the stairs and out of the house onto the street.

a cool breeze was blowing which inadvertently caused you to shiver. matt, who still hadn’t let go of your hand, tugged you further into his side. your heart sank when he dropped your hand, only for it to skyrocket when he threw his arm around you.

“why didn’t you do the dare?” you asked. the curiosity was killing you, even if you believed the real answer would be even worse than not knowing.

matt shrugged like he had been all night. “i didn’t feel like it.”

you blinked at him, staring at his profile while he guided the two of you back to his house. “you’re literally the most competitive person i know. you’ve never intentionally lost a game. last week brady dared you to drink that gallon of milk and run a mile, which, if i must remind you, you threw up not even halfway through.”

matt laughed. “that was funny. but what’s your point?”

“my point is that kissing someone is way less work than running a mile and throwing up. so what’s up?”

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fell to the ground where he kicked a rock. “didn’t want it to happen like that.”

you blinked at him, refusing to move your gaze from his profile. “didn’t want what to happen like that? it’s just a kiss.”

he shook his head and stopped walking, grabbing your wrist when you kept moving. matt tugged your arm so you’d turn around and look at him. “it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” he said.

“would it mean more?” you asked, but he didn’t say anything. “matt?” your heart was beating against your chest. your hands shook at the idea of him wanting to kiss someone. you went through the list of people in that room. it wasn’t morgan, he’d told you weeks ago that he didn’t like her like that when you asked. could it be simone? she looked like a goddess on a bad day. her dark skin was flawless and free of blemishes and her faux locs were always perfectly styled. she didn’t even wear makeup on a regular basis.

oh god. did he like simone?

your gut twisted at the idea, of him falling in love with the closest friend you had at school. you could learn to be happy for them, simone was great and matt would adore her if she agreed to go out with him.

you snapped back into it when you felt matt’s thumb rub across your pulse. “matt, would it mean more?”

he shrugged again, still not looking at you, just the part where your hands were joined. “would it be a problem if it did?”

now it was your turn to be confused. “why would my opinion matter? i’m not the one you’d be kissing.”

matt blinked at you once, then twice. “you can’t be serious,” he said.

“what do you mean?”

“you can’t be that blind. there’s no way.”

“matt, what are you talking about?”

he dropped your hand to run both of his over his face and groaned. “there's no way you don’t know.”

“know what?”

matt fixed you with an intense look, one that had you squirming in your shoes a little. in all your years of friendship, you weren’t sure he'd ever stared at you that way before. a hockey game? sure, but you?

“matt what—”

“i like you,” he said as plain as day, like he didn’t just flip your world on its axis.

you blinked, you were pretty sure you stopped breathing. “what?” you whispered.

matt stepped closer to you, close enough that your shoes were touching. “i like you.”

“so why didn’t you kiss me when morgan dared you to?”

“i didn’t want it to happen like that,” he admitted. “didn’t wanna kiss you in front of everybody.”

you could feel the heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks. “and what about now? would you kiss me now?”

“would you let me?”

words failed you, you could only nod. matt hesitated for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. it was clumsy and awkward, and in the middle of the sidewalk two blocks away from his house.

but it was perfect.

after

you ubered to the restaurant before emma could suggest meeting at the tkachuk house. every single one of the bridesmaids knew you and matt were no longer together, all of them banding around you and offering support from thousands of miles away. so you didn’t think any of them would even hint at meeting at the tkachuk residence if they were as considerate as you believed them to be, but you wanted to avoid the sympathetic looks that would be thrown your way.

most of the bridesmaids were there by the time you arrived, the only exception being taryn. the entire table greeted you with bright white smiles, emma stood to give you a hug that you enthusiastically returned.

it felt great to be back in the company of people your age. despite being back in st. louis for quite some time, you still had yet to make any more friends outside of emma and taryn, both of whom you didn’t see that often because of who they were relationally attached to.

unfortunately, you’d lost contact with many of your friends from high school because of the distance. if you could go back, you’d slap yourself in the face for thinking matt was going to stick around longer than simone or morgan.

but how were you to know he would leave and wouldn’t want you to follow him?

you swallowed that question down and took a seat at the table. you sat next to a brunette named stacey, the other seat on your right was left for taryn, you assumed. there were already two bottles of wine sitting in a bucket of ice on the table. part of you considered pouring yourself a glass immediately, but you remembered the plans were dinner first, bar later. so you settled for water.

it was only a matter of maybe ten minutes before taryn was led to your table. you stood up with the rest of the girls and waited your turn to hug her. taryn saved you for last, smiling bright and wide when the two of you finally made eye contact. you squeezed each other tightly as you hugged, unspoken words being communicated.

“now, before anyone looks at the menu, i just wanted to let you know, it’s on brady tonight.” emma held up her hand as mouths began to protest across the table. “he insisted, and we won’t be taking no for an answer.”

and maybe you should’ve protested a little harder to look more sincere, but your job wasn’t paying you well enough to afford a 70 dollar steak and drinks.

the table breaks up into mini conversations while everyone was looking over the menu. you were doing the same when an elbow nudged you from the right. you glanced over at taryn who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she wanted your attention, it was something you’d always admired about her.

“long time, no see,” she said. but before you could respond, she spoke up again. “how have you been?”

you shrugged and moved your eyes back to the menu to look busy. “nothing has been going on really, just working.” you cleared your throat and hesitantly made eye contact again. “and you? what have you been up to?”

taryn shifted in her seat, a tell you knew was coming. you weren’t a stranger to where she’d been the past few weeks, you still followed her on instagram, you followed all of the tkachuks on instagram, even matt. so you knew she’d just gotten back after the panthers lost in game five of the finals.

you nudged her with your shoulder and gave her a small smile. “it’s okay, i’m not gonna burst into tears if you mention him.”

taryn smiled. “i’m exhausted, we were traveling everywhere for matt it felt like. it was cutting into my workouts.”

your jaw clenched at the mention of his name, mainly to distract you from feeling the ache in your chest, but you kept a pleasant look on your face anyway. “you still have the rest of the summer for your workouts, though. summer’s barely started.”

taryn nodded but she didn’t say anything for a moment. you started to shift in your seat when she reached a hand out and squeezed your own. “i miss you,” she said sincerely. “it hasn’t been the same without you around.”

“taryn...”

“you know, you’re still in, like, most of our family photos hanging on the wall. mom and dad haven’t taken them down.”

you weren’t sure if that made you happy or brought you pain.

“i begged them not to, you’re in too many memories for us to just forget you.” she cleared her throat and looked back at her menu, giving you a break from the sincere staredown the two of you were having. “they ask about you all the time, but they didn’t want to impose, mom especially. said she’d understand if you never wanted to see them again.”

you tried reading the menu through blurry eyes and pinched your lips together so no one would see them tremble. “i’ve been meaning to get coffee with your mom,” you said, though you both knew it was a lie. you’d made yourself scarce for a reason.

“she’d be happy to see you again, she just didn’t want to overstep.”

you nodded, still not looking at the girl you fully believed would be your sister one day. “i’ll text her.”

the waiter came by moments later to take your orders. thankfully, the tears had cleared up out of your eyes. as soon as you’d cleared your throat, you were telling the server your order without your voice shaking.

you bore the grief well, you thought. you laughed when everyone else did, smiled when appropriate, and asked follow up questions. socializing wasn’t hard, years of galas and charity events as matt’s plus one had trained you well for moments like these, so long as you avoided the eyes of taryn and emma, both of whom knew you better than anyone else at the table.

emma paid with brady’s card like she’d promised earlier. unfortunately for you, that’s when the anxiety started to come back. taryn was leaving after dinner, too young to go to the bars with the rest of you, and according to what emma had told you, she had plans with friends.

the group left together, with taryn waving goodbye as the rest of you headed to a bar three blocks away. your hands were shaking, so you shoved them in your pockets to hide the trembling.

it’d get better once you got a few drinks in you, you told yourself. you’d loosen up soon enough.

emma opened a tab with brady’s card and you immediately started going in. the group started with a round of shots, but you were quickly ordering more than just tequila. it was only a matter of time before your vision started lagging and your brain began buffering to keep up with what was happening.

you were on the dance floor, grinding against a stranger, who thankfully, was keeping their hands to themselves, when emma tugged your arm, giggling. “everyone else has left. and i think it’s time for us to go,” she slurred, a giant smile on her face.

you allowed yourself to be tugged away from the stranger. “how do you know?” you asked, fumbling over your words like trying to catch a bar of soap with wet hands.

emma smiled and pointed at the bar where brady was, you assumed, closing out the tab. seeing him in the flesh had your heart stuttering. the anxiety was kicking back in, hitting harder than it did when you were sober. you hadn’t seen brady since november, or was it december? the months had blurred together just like that one scene from new moon.

but now you were seeing him in the flesh, and he was getting closer as emma tugged you over to where he was. brady was just slipping his card back in his wallet when the two of you got to him. he looked up and smiled at his fianceé before he even realized you were standing there. the lovesick smile dropped but it was quickly replaced with shock before it was transformed into a smile you could’ve painted from memory.

“hey!” he said just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “i didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

if you were sober, you’d see that statement as a warning, preparation for what was to come. you would’ve noticed the way his eyes kept darting to the entrance of the bar, but you didn’t. you were just happy to see him for the first time in a while, feeling the semblance of home you’d been missing for months.

if you were sober, you would’ve remembered that brady and his brother were a package deal. you would’ve known that the nights brady wasn’t spending with emma, he was spending with your ex, and when emma had inevitably texted (or brady offered) her fiancé to pick her up, that he was more than likely already out with his brother celebrating his upcoming nuptials.

if you were sober, you would’ve noticed him walk through the door because your eyes were always drawn to him. you would’ve known it was him by the smell of his cologne, instead of waiting for him to slap his brother on the shoulder in greeting.

if you were sober, you would’ve made a break for it the second he started approaching you, emma, and brady.

but you were drunk off your ass, and all you could do was stand there like a dumbfounded idiot while matthew brendan tkachuk glanced around the room.

brady shifted on his feet a little, bracing for the moment you both knew was coming. the moment where matt saw you for the first time since november 29, when he played calgary. you’d imagine to brady, it felt like watching a car accident happen in real time. to you though, you were the accident. you were the one getting hit by a bus going full speed. you were rooted to the spot, taking in every feature of matt’s face that you’d missed over the last six months, waiting for him to see you.

if you were sober, you would’ve run away by now, knowing that being that close to him would do nothing for you.

but it was too late now.

matt finally glanced at emma, then brady, until his eyes landed on you. the smile on his lips from the song that was bumping through the speakers dropped almost immediately. he recoiled, took a small step back, almost as if he was shocked to see you there at all.

you felt like an idiot.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you stared at each other before you took a deep breath and stared at your shoes.

your hands were shaking again.

you shoved them in your pockets again.

matt’s eyes darted to your shorts at the movement, his eyes scrunched together in what looked like concern, but you brushed that thought off before you could convince yourself he still cared. but you could feel his stare on you, even as you looked around and avoided eye contact. you felt like an ant, with matt’s gaze being the magnifying glass that was burning you with a beam of sunlight.

“do you have a ride home?” brady asked. your head whipped back around to look at him and emma.

you shrugged, already feeling more sober than you were two minutes ago. “was gonna uber.”

matt scoffed. “not happening.”

out of nowhere anger bubbled out of your chest and out of your mouth. “excuse me?”

matt fixed you with a hard stare, one you didn’t shy away from. “you’re not ubering home on a friday night drunk as hell. it’s not happening.”

“i think you lost the right to make my decisions six months ago.” you refused to say his name, refused to know what it felt like to have it back on your tongue even though your heart was crying out to utter those two syllables again.

brady interjected before the disagreement could escalate. “i just wanna make sure you get home safe,” he said. “can i drive you home?”

you glanced at the man you used to know like a little brother. you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the concern.

and maybe it was the love for brady and emma that had you accepting. or maybe it was the alcohol. you nodded your head and let emma lock arms with you as you were led out by the tkachuk brothers.

you found yourself in the backseat where you used to hold hands with matt when you went on double dates with brady and emma. the two of you used to tease the younger couple when they did literally anything romantic. if brady so much as grabbed emma’s hand, the two of you were gagging in the backseat “choking on their pda” all while knowing brady and emma have caught you in more compromising positions before.

but it wasn’t like that this time around.

you slid into your usual seat in the back before emma could offer up shotgun to you. maybe if you were more selfish, you’d accept, but you weren’t going to let your friend sit away from her fiancé when you could just suck it up.

the space between you and matt felt too suffocatingly small and yet it still felt like you were on two opposite sides of the globe. you thought about taking a risk and throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle, but there was still a wedding you were both in. you needed to figure out how to tolerate being around him if you didn’t want to cause a scene later in the summer.

you just had to make it to the end of july, then you could go back and pretend like december 16th never happened, like the past nine years of your life never happened. like you never fell in love with your best friend, like you never met him and his mother in fourth grade, like your parents never moved you to st. louis. like there weren’t traces of your failed relationship in every scrapbook in your parents’ house, like he wasn’t tied to every significant moment of your childhood.

you felt like the bundle of christmas lights that you’d sworn you put back in an orderly fashion the previous year, only to pull them out and realize you had an entire project on your hands to detangle them all.

except in the end, none of the lights worked anyway.

you could hardly remember a time where your life wasn’t deeply intertwined with matthew’s. you thought it’d lead to something, to marriage, to raising kids together, to celebrating his retirement, buying a home close to his family, and growing fat and old together.

you hated the idea that you went down that road only for it to be a dead end.

brady pulled up outside your house. you were unbuckling your seat belt and throwing the door open before he’d even put the car in park. you were doing your best to get to the front porch before anything else happened, but as hard as you tried, you were still a little too drunk. you were stumbling up the driveway and to the front door, all the while trying to figure out which key was the key to your house.

a car door slammed in the distance before footsteps followed.

you knew the sound like you knew the sound of your mother’s sadness. you would’ve recognized his footfalls anywhere.

in your haste and anxiety, you dropped your keys. you squatted down and nearly tipped over at the rush to your head. matt’s hand shot out before you could grab the keys while his other hand grabbed your elbow and pulled you into a standing position. he led you to the front door and with ease, found your house key. he unlocked the door but didn’t move to open it. you could feel his stare on the side of your face, but you refused to look back.

his touch on your skin felt like it was burning, and part of you wanted to rip your arm out of his grasp, but you couldn’t.

you just—

couldn't.

matt said your name quietly, but you just shook your head, willing the tears to go away. he didn’t get to see you cry, didn’t get to know that his actions had absolutely wrecked you. he tried again, but you inhaled and jerked your arm out of his reach before you opened your front door, grabbed your keys, and shut it in his face.

you barely made it into your bathroom before you threw up.

before

you were bouncing on your toes at the airport. matt’s plane landed fifteen minutes ago, and you were anxiously waiting for him to round the corner.

matt’s first year with the ntdp made your relationship a little difficult, though, you thought it would be harder than it was. modern technology definitely made it easier on you. matt would call you just about every other night, and if he couldn’t, matt was texting you whenever he had the freetime.

the last time you saw each other was when you and the tkachuks spent your spring break in ann arbor to visit, and that had been over a month ago. thankfully, you’d managed to convince your mom to let you check out of school early to wait for him.

“someone’s excited,” taryn teased, bumping her shoulder into your side. 

“honey leave her alone,” chantal chided. “we’re all excited.”

“i’m not,” brady grumbled. not even a beat later, keith was slapping the back of his head.

moments later, matt walked around the corner with his bags in hand. you fought every urge to run to him, deciding he probably wanted to greet his family first. and he did, you watched as he hugged his mom and dad first, moving the taryn, before punching brady in the shoulder.

you were nervously playing with the hem of your school issued plaid skirt as you looked on, suddenly feeling out of place. but it didn’t linger because in a blink of an eye, matt’s arms were wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

a sigh escaped your lips, one you didn’t even know was held hostage in your chest. maybe you were being dramatic (you were almost 16, after all), but it felt like the part of you that was missing was just returned.

“missed you,” he mumbled into your neck.

you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips.

matt didn’t let go of you, even when everyone started walking towards the car where keith parked. your hand was tightly grasped in his own, forcing brady to carry the other bag matt couldn’t. to make up for it, you offered to sit in the back of keith’s escalade so brady could have more leg room. matt ended up grumbling about it, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let you sit in the back next to taryn when he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

“i ruined my perfect attendance streak for you,” you said as you traced the veins of his hands.

matt smirked. “i messed up little miss perfect’s squeaky clean record? how will you ever get into college now?”

you ripped your hand from his and shoved his shoulder, barely restraining yourself from cussing him out. “shut up,” was what you settled for because while taryn and brady had most definitely heard their fair share of curse words, you didn’t want to be the one on the receiving end of chantal’s disapproving look, even if it meant keith would be fighting for his life to hold back laughter.

all four of you, keith and chantal excluded, all but scrambled out of the car when it pulled into the garage. you and matt grabbed both of his bags before bum rushing into the house and up the stairs to his room.

“leave the door open!” chantal called from the first floor.

you didn’t need to see his face to know matt was rolling his eyes.

“i’m tempted to ignore her and just slam and lock the door,” he grumbled.

you dropped the bag you were holding and guffawed. “you wouldn’t. you love your mom.”

matt dropped his bag and immediately took the opportunity to grab you by the waist. “and i love you.”

you almost giggled, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself so you beamed instead. the first time he said those words was a few months ago over facetime and it still made you giddy as it did then.

matt pressed his forehead against yours. “you’re not gonna say it back?” he asked.

you blinked, still smiling. “what?”

“you're not gonna say you love me back?”

you shrugged, knowing it would get under his skin. you knew the consequences. “hm,” you hummed. “do i need to?”

matt rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of his head. “quit being smart.”

and maybe you should’ve given up, maybe you should’ve let it go and say those three little words you’d said countless times before. but teasing him was way too much fun to pass up when you hadn’t seen him in months. so you pursed your lips and hummed again. “i seem to recall you saying you liked how smart i am. something about being the beauty and the brains?”

and out of nowhere, taryn popped her head in. “well matt for sure wasn’t going to be the beauty, and he’s never been the brains,” she smirked.

matt let go of you and marched over to the door, all but slamming it in her face.

“matthew brendan tkachuk! that door better be open!” chantal’s voice carried up the stairs had you lunging across the room and whipping open the door in a hurry.

“sorry mrs. tkachuk!” you called out before turning around and glaring at your boyfriend. “you’re a menace.”

matthew smirked and pulled you close enough that you were chest to chest. “but you love me.”

“i love you so much.”

after

the hangover you had the next morning was probably the worst you ever remember having. well, until you remembered the night matt broke up with you, that was the worst one.

you turned over in bed, picked up your phone, and saw multiple texts from emma and brady alike, both ranging from “it was great to see you” to “i’m so sorry about last night.” you groaned and dropped your phone back on the nightstand.

last night, when you thought about it, hurt more than it should’ve. you saw him for the first time in the flesh and it looked like he was fine, like he didn’t completely upend your life six months ago when he ended things. part of you wondered if he could see through you, through the illusion of your happiness and to the core where you were just as fractured as you were december 17th. 

the rest of the weekend continued with you doing little to nothing but eating and binging trashy reality tv shows. when your alarm went off on monday morning, you contemplated calling off, but got dressed instead.

“you look like hell,” was the first thing frankie, your mentor and boss, said to you. because of the nature of your relationship, you felt comfortable flipping him off, even as he passed you a cup of coffee. “rough night?” he asked after watching you take a hefty sip of the hot beverage.

“rough weekend,” you grumbled.

frankie gave you a small smile and patted you on the back as the two of you walked to the workspace. “wanna talk about it?”

you recognized performative kindness when you saw it. while you firmly believed frankie cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew he didn’t want to hear the sob story of how you ran into your ex drunk at a bar, at least, not at 8am. so you shook your head.

“i looked at some of your work on the bradshaw family’s piece so far, and i was impressed. i do have some notes, but for the most part, you’ve been doing a great job.”

you did your best to smile gratefully, but you weren’t sure it translated. “i really appreciate your guidance on this, and the trust you have to let me work on some of these projects.”

“you’re very talented,” he said. “you ever thought about creating something for yourself or someone else?”

there wasn’t a word to describe the noise that came out of your mouth. was it a nervous laugh? a squeak maybe? you didn’t know, and neither did frankie.

“what?” he asked. “why is that so scary?”

you shrugged as the two of you made it to the workspace. normally, you would start by pulling out the supplies you needed to begin working on the bradshaw piece, but if frankie met you at the door, it was because he wanted to have an impromptu meeting first.

“i feel like i’m good at fixing things,” you said. “maybe not creating something from thin air.”

“you have so much talent,” frankie replied. “i hate to see it wasted on fixing and preserving someone else’s work when you could be doing both. it could be your art that people hang in their houses and pay thousands of dollars to preserve.”

you nodded, but kept your eyes on the table, studying the wood grain and tracing the pattern with your finger.

“i don’t think i’m capable of that anymore.”

frankie reached over and squeezed your shoulder. “just think on it, okay? couldn’t hurt to just think on it.” he walked out a moment later, giving you space and time to queue up music and get started on the day.

you opened spotify and pressed the play button on your liked songs without even thinking about it. not even two seconds later, you regretted your decision. the soft tones and beats of frank ocean’s thinkin bout you echoed through the room and slammed against your chest. you immediately switched the song and found a classical playlist to listen to instead.

but the tune wouldn’t get out of your head.

not two minutes later.

not thirty minutes later.

not after your full eight hour shift spent hunched over your workstation.

not even on the drive home.

frank ocean’s voice permeated every fiber of your being.

it was simone who first showed you the song in high school. you remembered liking the melody enough, but you didn’t get the lyrics. and why would you? you were in love with your best friend who loved you back. even though you were fourteen and too young to even think about marriage, you knew matthew was going to be the person you ended up with. it was him or no one.

and now it was no one.

now, you listened to the song play over and over in your head, the lyrics resonating with you deeper than ever before.

you pulled into your driveway, completely unaware of what cars were parked in the street. they’d never mattered to you before. why would they now?

you sat in your car for a few minutes, taking a deep breath while you worked up the courage to go inside. when you finally got a grip on your emotions, you opened your door and grabbed your bag. you were too busy fumbling with your keys to notice anything amiss until you were on your porch and a pair of shoes came into sight.

“hey.”

it took everything in you not to scream. you dropped your keys and nearly dropped your bag. matthew stood on your front porch with his hands in the pockets in his shorts like he was innocent of any pain or suffering he’d caused you. he was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and you hated yourself a little bit for thinking he’s attractive like that.

“what’re you doing here?” you hated how hoarse your voice sounded, like a low quality audio recording where things sounded muffled and broken.

“your dad wouldn’t let me in.”

“good.”

matt sighed and ran a hand down his face. “can we not do this?”

“not do what?” you asked. “not act like you ended things for no damn reason?”

“if you—”

“we dated for nearly ten years and you decided to end it over a five minute phone call. and you still think you’re entitled to my time?” and maybe you should’ve been kinder, maybe you should’ve been more civil. but you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months (until a few nights ago) and he just turned up out of the blue? expecting you to do what? forgive him? move on?

matthew said your name delicately, but not in the way he used to, like saying your name was a luxury he was honored to have. no, he said it like you were going to break, like you were fragile, like he wasn’t the sole cause of your pain. “please—”

the anger was draining out of you quicker. you were exhausted between work, and frank ocean’s stupid song, and the other night. 

“what do you want?” your voice cracked on the last word. “wanna ruin my life a little bit more? put the final nail in the coffin?”

“no,” he shook his head fervently. matthew took a step towards you and looked something close to devastated when you stepped back. but it didn’t make sense, he ended it, he had no right to look or feel that way. “i just wanna talk.”

“six months,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice clear. “you had six months to say something. what could you possibly have to say now that you couldn’t then?”

“i know we didn’t end on the best of terms—” he started, but it was cut off by your scoff. you turned your head away and used your palm to wipe at your eyes before you crossed your arms over your chest. “—but i don’t think we should let this ruin brady and emma’s summer. we’re gonna see a lot of each other and i don’t want things to be tense around them.”

you took a minute to really look at him. blonde frizzy curls, blue eyes that wouldn’t leave your face. he hadn’t changed one bit.

one summer, you’d attempted to count the number of freckles on his shoulders. you got up to 87 before you gave up.

and yet you felt like you were standing in front of a stranger.

there were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you’d dreamt of screaming at him, but now that he was here, in front of you, asking something of you, you felt drained, tired. you used to crave his presence, now it felt like a leech.

you loved him, but he was sucking the life out of you.

so you nodded. you nodded and said “okay,” before you walked inside your front door and left your heart on the porch.

you pressed your back against the door and slid to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. there was no telling when you started crying, or when your dad joined you on the floor, hugging you as close to his chest as he could.

“why wasn’t i enough?” you sobbed into your knees.

your dad petted your hair before he pressed a kiss there. “you’re more than enough, honey. but you can’t make anyone love you if they’re not willing to.”

“he used to!” you wailed. “he used to love me!” then, in a smaller voice, “what changed?”

a beat of silence, then your father’s somber, quiet voice. “maybe he did.”

before

“so what are your plans for after high school?” ms. meyer, your high school guidance counselor sat across from you at her desk. her stare was kind, but unwavering.

you’d already applied to notre dame, knowing that’s where matt committed. so when you answered, it was confident. it had been your plan since matt said yes to the school. “i’m going to notre dame and majoring in art history.”

“do you have any back up schools?”

you nodded. “ucla and the art institute of chicago.”

ms. meyer pursed her lips. “you know all of those places are highly competitive, right?”

“my transcripts and resume are impressive and I did really well on the SAT and ACT. i think i’ll be able to get in.” and you were, you were pretty confident as they come when it came to academics. any school would’ve been lucky to have you, that much you believed.

ms. meyer nodded. “i understand ucla and the art institute, both of those schools have incredible arts programs, but why notre dame? it doesn’t seem to fit with your aspirations.”

“oh,” you laughed under your breath. “that’s where my boyfriend is going.”

your guidance counselor blinked. “you’re incredibly smart and gifted, i’d hate to see that talent wasted when you could be developing it elsewhere. what do you want?”

“i want to be with matthew.”

ms. meyer sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, you weren’t sure why though. you’d never been more sure of anything. “honey, can i be honest with you?” she didn’t wait for your response. “you have so much talent, so much to offer, i’ve seen many girls come in here, putting off aspirations for their significant others only for that relationship not to last.”

“i know we’re young,” you started, already feeling the heat rise up in your chest. she didn’t know anything about you personally, she didn’t know about you and matt. “but we’re gonna make it, i swear.”

ms. meyer nodded. “of course you are.” she cleared her throat and adjusted the papers in front of her. “so, notre dame...”

after

you weren't exactly sure what compelled you to do it, but at dinner a few nights ago, your mom had asked about what happened to simone, your friend from middle and high school. so you reached out, though it made you feel like you were contacting someone to join your mlm.

it legitimately surprised you when simone replied to your facebook message. the two of you made plans to get coffee on saturday.

and now it was saturday.

you weren’t getting coffee until 9:30, but you were awake and staring at your ceiling at 7. you’d done the due diligence of stalking simone’s profile, so you knew she was married with two kids who looked just like her. she worked as a data analyst for kroger and her husband was a public defender. she met her husband in college and they got married shortly after they graduated from grad and law school respectively. 

if you were a better woman, you’d admit you were jealous. jealous that she got what she wanted in the end. but when you put that aside, you still felt overwhelming happiness at her station in life, regardless of how yours turned out.

you kept scrolling through her social media until it was eventually time for you to get up. you stayed to facebook, not even wanting to bother with going on instagram and accidentally stumbling across one of the tkachuks’ posts.

it was 9:10 when you finally finished getting dressed and ready. you came down the stairs and threw a goodbye over your shoulder before grabbing your crossbody bag and your keys and running out the door.

despite your sprinting and nearly running red lights, you were still five minutes late. you came into the coffee shop, gasping for air after sprinting down the sidewalk from your parking spot.

the second you entered the business, simone’s hand lifted and she smiled brightly, calling you over almost immediately. she stood to greet you, and like no time had passed, pulled you in for a hug.

“it’s so good to see you,” she said. “wasn’t sure if you still liked an iced chai latte, but i got one for you.”

“oh my god, yes,” you gasped before taking a seat and taking a sip of the beverage.

she kept smiling, which made you feel lighthearted for once. most people kept looking at you with pitying eyes, but simone saw you for more than the grief of the last six months. she had to know about it, she just had to, but you thanked her for not bringing it up in the first minute of your conversation.

“how’s work going?”

you shrugged. “it’s mostly tedious, but it’s been fine. what about you? working for kroger? that’s a huge deal.”

simone shook her head. “it’s just a means to an end, a way i can pay for my family’s lifestyle.”

“but are you passionate about what you do?”

she shrugged lightly. “it’s a job, it’s not my life. not everyone is going to work a job that fulfills them. my husband? he loves being a public defender, and he’s good at it. me though, as fun as analyzing data all day sounds and as helpful as it is, getting to have a job that doesn’t come home with me is probably my favorite part of it.”

you nodded along like you understood. and maybe you didn’t do a good enough job at being convincing because simone sighed.

“i wanted to wait to ask this, but i can’t hold it in any longer. how’re you holding up?”

it took you several seconds to answer her question. your mouth open and closed multiple times. “i— i don't know.” you sank back into your seat and picked at your cuticles. “it’s been a shitty few months,” you admitted. “you’d think i’d be over it by now.

simone shook her head and leaned in, arms braced on the table. “you two were together for a decade, what’s a few months in comparison to that?”

you shrugged. “i saw him the other night, when i went out drinking with the other bridesmaids. it was like, i don't know, i got dunked in an ice bath or something. he looked completely unaffected and i couldn’t breathe.”

simone whispered your name.

“but i’m fine!” you asserted. “i’m trying to be.”

simone nodded. “so what do you do now?”

you could’ve kissed her feet for the change in topic. “i’m working in the art restoration and conservation field.”

simone blinked. “you’re restoring art? do you like it?”

you shrugged. “most days, it can get repetitive, but that’s what i like.”

your friend sighed and fixed you with a soft, sympathetic look. “but is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? restoring someone else’s art? doing something repetitive? you are so talented, i hate to see you wasting that talent restoring someone else’s work.”

“it’s not a waste! it’s incredibly difficult and some things deserve to be preserved.”

“but some new things deserve to be created.” simone leaned in closer, her forearms braced on the table. “i think it would do you some good to start creating something again, even if it’s shitty. and you think you aren’t ready, just try something new. a new bar, a new hobby, a new man, something new.”

your stomach twisted at the thought of going on a date with someone other than matt, but simone was right. it had been six months and he seemed to be doing fine, it was your turn to start moving on, to find yourself again.

so you nodded. “we should do this more often,” you said. “i’ve missed you.”

simone smiled. “i’ve missed you too, i’m glad you’re home.”

you talked for another hour about everything the two of you had missed over the years of you being elsewhere before she had to leave and relieve the nanny at home. simone hugged you goodbye and texted you her new number before she left the coffee shop. 

the drive home was quiet because you were pondering the things she’d said. you weren’t sure you were ready for making your own art, you sure as hell weren’t ready to go on a date. but maybe you should try.

maybe you were ready to put yourself first for once.

before

the biggest argument you’d had with matt was after you found out he wasn’t playing at notre dame at all, he was going to play for calgary.

you felt so stupid for committing to that school when you should’ve known your boyfriend was talented enough to skip it altogether. maybe you should’ve taken a gap year, then you wouldn’t have to be doing even more long distance in two different countries.

the two of you never argued, or maybe never was too strong of a word. you hardly ever had a disagreement if you thought about it long enough. most of the time, you suppressed the disappointment and the anger, shoving it to the side because you were surely being dramatic.

but now you were standing off to the side, waiting for your name to be called to cross the stage at your high school graduation, and you wished you’d said something to convince matthew to delay settling into his new calgary apartment with one of his teammates.

but you swallowed your disappointment and pride and just dealt with the fact that he wouldn’t be there.

it was fine.

just high school.

you were snapped out of your reverie when your name was called. you smiled and walked across the stage. when you dreamt of this exact moment, you always thought you’d walk with grace, that all noise would cease to exist as you honed in on the sheet of paper you’d spent the last 13 years working towards.

but it wasn’t like that.

because you heard one specific voice above all the others. as your principal handed you the diploma, your eyes searched the crowd and saw him.

matthew standing up and yelling with his family next to him. he had a sign, the words you couldn’t read because there were tears forming in your water line. he was pointing at you and kept yelling and clapping, hooting and hollering like it was his full time job. your parents were smiling, though they were seated, and your grandparents were stone faced clapping like they were at the masters tournament.

so you kept your eyes on him, even as you walked back to your seat. you might have stumbled, tripped even, but all you could see, all you could feel was him.

you were back in your seat by the time the person calling out the names spoke again.

“please hold your applause until the end.”

you could hear his scoff, even from your seat.

your leg bounced for the rest of the graduation ceremony. you didn’t even register the turning of your tassel. you just couldn’t wait for it to be over so you could be in matt’s arms.

as soon as the ceremony concluded, matt was shoving his way past families, nearly taking out an elderly gentleman in his quest to get to you. on the other hand, you were being pushed to move farther away from him as the procession of students filed out of the gym. you kept looking over your shoulder to find him, but it looked like brady had caught up to him, wrangling his older brother to follow the crowds outside.

“outside!” brady pointed.

you nodded.

as soon as you got through the gym doors, you were booking it outside into the sunlight. it blinded you momentarily, but you whipped your phone out seconds later to see if matt had texted you where he’d be. you pulled up his contact and were seconds away from calling him when arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you up into the air.

a squeal left your lips until he set you down a moment later. you spun around in his arms and before you could say anything, matthew was kissing you like no one else was around.

when the two of you finally needed air, you pulled away. “i thought you were in calgary!”

matthew scoffed though there was a large smile on his lips. “you thought i’d miss my favorite girl’s graduation? calgary can wait, your high school graduation only happens once.”

“i’m glad you’re here,” you whispered. 

“me too, baby.”

unfortunately, matt pulled away so you could hug your parents and even your grandparents who were standing off to the side. taryn and brady pulled you into a group hug afterwards, with taryn going on a tangent about all the fun things the two of you would have to do before you left for school.

but brady was taking your graduation cap off your head to ruffle your hair as matt grabbed your purse and took your car keys out. keith and chantal were offering to pay for a celebratory lunch while your grandparents gave an irish goodbye. your parents were smiling, you were tucked into matt’s side, and brady and taryn were bickering and—

everything was perfect.

you wanted to freeze that moment, that sensation in your chest, take the saccharine feeling and bottle it up and store it on your bookshelf. 

and if you could’ve, you would’ve savored the sensation of matt’s lips pressed to your temple while both of your dads discussed the best route to get to the restaurant.

but you had no idea how the future would turn out.

you thought matt was forever.

after

you were on a double date, or at least, hyping yourself up to go into the bar and meet up with simone, her husband, and a friend of theirs. you didn’t want to be a bitch, but you also didn’t want to send yourself into a panic attack. simone had suggested just entertaining something with someone, didn’t even have to be serious, it could just be sex.

you could do that, right?

just casual sex?

the thought was nauseating. you’d only slept with matthew, no one knew your body like he did and—

you stopped yourself before you could go down that rabbit hole.

your hands shook as you stepped out of your car and locked it. maybe you should’ve gotten an uber, but then again, you weren’t really planning on drinking like that. you were hoping you’d still be sober enough to go home.

the music in the bar shockingly wasn’t as loud as you expected. it wasn’t the bass bumping, ass grinding bar like the ones matt used to take you to after games. even still, your palms started sweating as you looked around. you spotted simone’s natural hair across the room and made your way towards her. 

her husband, stephen, stood to greet you first, followed by simone, then lastly your date. a guy named andrew who was a partner at his firm, the youngest on his team.

his handshake was firm, but there were no calluses on his palm. his hair was slicked back with what you guessed was a pomade.

he was so unlike matthew it was alarming.

but maybe it was for the best.

you smiled and took your seat next to simone, you sipped on the water in front of you.

“we didn’t want to order drinks without you just yet.”

“thank you,” you mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” andrew started. “simone spoke highly of you. she said you’ve been friends since middle school.”

you felt bad because simone didn’t really say much to you about him. if you were a gambler, you’d assume it was because she didn’t want you to back out. you barely even knew him and you were already comparing him to matt.

which wasn’t fair, you knew that. andrew deserved to be a human without the baggage of your last and only relationship determining how you viewed him.

you would try, at the very least for simone. at the very most, you’d try for yourself.

“nice to meet you too. i heard you’re a partner at your law firm? how is that going?”

oh god. you were so bad at this. asking about work on a friday night?

but he smiled. his teeth were perfectly straight and white. you'd bet your last dollar that he'd never needed braces, not like you did.

you hated yourself for thinking of the gap between matthew’s teeth.

“it’s going well,” he said. “lot of work, but i managed to get enough done this week that my friday was free. i wanted to meet the ‘best artist on planet earth,’ according to simone.”

“oh i don’t know about that,” you flushed.

simone scoffed. “don’t downplay yourself.” she turned to look at andrew. “you should see the art she created in high school as a teenager. it was so impressive.”

“what medium do you like working with the most?” he asked.

“mostly acrylic.”

andrew’s eyes lit up. “do you have any photos of your art? i’d love to see your work.”

you shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed at all the attention. “i don’t really paint like that anymore. i work in art conservation now, not a whole lot of time to create something new.”

“that’s such a unique career! what does your average day look like?” andrew leaned forward a little and took a sip of his water.

you told him a little bit about what you did. about how you spent hours hunched over a painting and fixing the smallest problems in hopes it would satisfy the client.

“you must’ve gone to some prestigious art school for that. if you don’t mind me asking, where did you go to college?”

your spine stiffened. “university of calgary.”

and just like you anticipated, his face twisted in confusion. there was no logical reason you should’ve gone out of the country for a regular school. it would be one thing if you went to an art institute, but you didn’t.

“why calgary?” he asked. “seems a bit random, if you don’t mind me asking.”

you shifted in your seat and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat in a sorry attempt to get the lump out, that you spoke. “it’s a long story,” you said. “thought i had a future in calgary.”

andrew, to his credit, knew when to not ask questions and changed the subject immediately.

the rest of the night passed in a blur. you were only halfway present, your mind reeling at how you wasted those years in calgary waiting for a man who would dump you as soon as he moved to a warmer state.

he, quite literally, left you in the cold.

andrew offered to walk you to your car, an offer you accepted because it was dark and st. louis.

“i had a great time tonight,” he said. “it was really nice to meet you. you’re even better than simone and stephen said.”

you gave him a small smile. “it was nice to meet you too.”

andrew shifted on his feet. for a moment, he didn’t look the part of the youngest partner at his law firm, he looked like a boy. “i was hoping maybe you’d want to do this again? maybe get some dinner?”

your throat felt like someone had force fed you cotton balls. but then you thought about how pathetic your life had been the last six months, how pathetic it was going to be when you flew to new jersey to be in the same bridal party as your ex.

you refused to be pathetic any longer.

which is probably why you smiled (albeit shakily) and said yes.

before

you were bouncing on your toes in the hallway as you waited for matt. it was a brutal game, and he spent a good portion of it in the penalty box, mostly for minor things, but one incident was for fighting. which wasn’t atypical, but you’d never seen him that keyed up before.

and given his reputation, there were any number of things that could’ve caused the fight itself. two weeks ago, matt had fought someone for being too forceful with one of his teammates, which after years of watching the game, was on par with the sport and your boyfriend.

because he fought so much, you weren’t necessarily surprised whenever he did. sure, you flinched when he was punched, knowing how badly it would bruise, praying to whatever higher power existed that he would still have all his teeth. but usually, matt wasn’t trying to fight everyone on the ice at all times.

tonight was different.

safe to say, you were a little anxious waiting for him to come out.

you weren’t exactly sure about what was said on the ice to get him so riled up. the worst you’d seen was when someone on the other team said something about taryn. you used to think that was the angriest you ever saw him. and it was.

until tonight.

you could feel the energy rolling off of him in waves as he exited the locker room. usually, after a win, matt is relaxed and easy going, but despite the victory from tonight, he was tense and pent up, frustrated even.

“hey,” you said, meeting him halfway.

matthew didn’t respond, just dropped his bag and wrapped you up in a hug, tucking his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder.

“you okay?” you asked.

he nodded. he squeezed your waist once before letting go, taking your hand instead. “ready to go?”

the car ride was silent minus the music matthew had playing through the aux. his hand rested on your thigh, though the grip was particularly tighter than normal, especially after a win. part of you wanted to ask, the other part not wanting to spoil the rest of the night with your curiosity.

but this was the man you loved. and it hurt you to see him this upset.

normally, you would’ve left well enough alone, but you were going back to notre dame in two days and didn’t want to spend the rest of your time walking on eggshells around him. you couldn’t help him if you didn’t know what was wrong.

“what happened?” you asked when the car came to a stop at a light.

“nothing,” he grunted.

“your team won and you’re still grumpy, matthew. so tell me, what happened? i want to help you.”

“there’s nothing to help.”

“matthew,” you groaned. “i’m only here for two days, can you just be honest with me? i don’t wanna waste the rest of my trip with you being upset when i can help you—”

“then go back to indiana!” he all but yelled, ripping his hand off your thigh so he could shove it through his disheveled hair.

your jaw dropped. in all the years you’d known matt, he'd never talked to you that way. and you weren’t starting a bad habit by letting him think he could ever do it again. you unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed your bag. you tugged on the handle of the door. “i’ll see you at home,” you said.

matt scoffed. “don’t be dramatic.”

“i’m not being ‘dramatic,’ matthew. you’re being an asshole.” you braced yourself for the cold as the door opened and let in a cold breeze.

matthew called your name, but you ignored him and slammed the car door shut. it was a little petty, considering how matt had berated his siblings over the same thing.

a car honked, probably because the light had turned green and matt was still sitting at the light, looking at you.

a cold wind blew and for a moment, you thought about hopping back in the car with matt, but he was pulling away and your pride wasn’t ready to take a hit just yet.

his car sped away until, with an efficiency you only wish you had, he parallel parked in a spot just up the road.

“get in the car,” he called, slamming his car door shut. “it’s too cold for you to be proving a point.”

“and what point am i trying to prove, matthew?” you asked over your shoulder.

you kept walking.

“would you please stop walking and just get back in the car?”

you kept walking.

a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, you might’ve shrieked had it not been gentle, had you not recognized the scent of matt’s cologne.

gently, he turned you around.

“baby, just get in the car. you don’t even have to talk to me. don't even have to look at me if you don’t want to. i’ll sleep on the couch or something, but it’s not safe for you to be walking home alone.” he ran his thumb back and forth over your pulse point in a soothing manner.

you kept your eyes on his hand. “what happened during the game?

he sighed, shoulders sagging like they were tired from carrying the weight of the world. “they were talking shit.”

you blinked. “and that’s different....how?”

with the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “they were talking shit about you. saying you deserved better and shit.”

“matthew, you know that’s not true—”

“they called you names.” his voice was dark, angrier than you'd ever heard before. “things i’m not comfortable repeating.”

a shiver went down your spine, for matt to be that upset made you uncomfortable. you didn’t want to think about what they said, you didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.

“well,” you said, voice feeling small and weak in your throat. “well, we know it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter.” you tried to make your way back to the car, but matt’s grip on your wrist stopped you.

“but it does matter,” he insisted. “what they said, i get it wasn't true, you and i both know that. but i’m not gonna let anyone talk shit about you, i don’t care who they are.”

your eyes finally met his own and in the blue you saw determination and conviction there. you started towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“i love you, matty.”

he kissed the top of your head. “love you more.”

after

“where are you going?” your mom asked from the couch.

your dad looked up from his james patterson book to squint at your outfit: a square neck black dress. “are you going out?” he chimed in.

you felt sheepish, like the fifteen year old girl going on her first solo date, no parents picking her up because matt just got his license. “remember that guy i went on a double date with?”

“with simone and her husband?” you mom asked.

you nodded. “we’re going out again, just us tonight.”

your mother gave you a small smile while you dad kept staring. “have fun, sweetheart.”

your dad, however, put his book down and looked at you above the rim of his glasses. “are you gonna be okay?”

“alan, this will be good for her!”

but your dad’s eyes never left your face. “you’ll call if you need something?”

“andrew’s a good guy, dad.” or at least, you were assuming so. you’d only met the guy one other time and he seemed alright.

but you could see the look in your father’s eyes, you could hear what he wasn’t saying.

so was matthew.

you swallowed and nodded at your parents. your phone pinged with a notification that your uber was outside. “i’ll be back.”

the drive to the bar was silent. usually, you wouldn’t have taken an uber, but you were unsure how drunk you would get tonight. the date could go well, it could be everything you wanted, even if all you wanted was matthew. 

but you were prepared for the worst. you were prepared to drink until you couldn’t see straight just to get through the night.

andrew was a nice guy, but he wasn’t who you wanted.

and you hated yourself for it.

the uber pulled up to the bar. and simply because he didn’t kidnap or talk to you, you gave the driver five stars.

andrew was waiting at a high top table for you, a glass of water ready to go. you waved at him and carefully made your way across the room, avoiding people and drinks and people with drinks.

“hey,” he greeted.

you gave him a small smile. “hi.”

“was traffic bad on your way here? i wasn’t sure, given that it’s friday and what not.”

you shook your head. “not too bad.” 

c’mon, think of something. say something. anything.

“crazy busy tonight, huh?” you wanted to facepalm. that was what you came up with? all the words in the world and that was what you—

“yeah,” andrew cut off your mental tirade. “i think some famous guys are here tonight, heard murmurs of it.”

you nearly broke out into a cold sweat. “d-do you know who?”

andrew shrugged. “i didn’t ask, i just heard someone talking about it when i was getting a drink.” then, like he finally realized, he snapped. “do you want anything? i can grab it for you.”

you gave him your drink order with a smile. he tapped the table with his knuckles before promising he'd be right back.

you traced the grain of the table with your finger, allowing it to feel the grooves and water stains left from other customers. it felt awkward, sitting by yourself with no one to talk to. andrew said he'd be back, but the bar was busy, it could be ten, fifteen minutes before he'd come back.

your phone buzzed.

simone: 

how’s it going?

you smiled despite yourself. 

you:

he’s nice. he went to get me a drink.

you put your phone down to look around the bar. it was busier than normal, or at least, what you thought was normal.

you were scrolling through your social media feeds when andrew finally came back. he had your drink in hand with a smile on his face.

“sorry, the line took forever,” he said.

you glanced at the bar to see a small crowd of people. “doesn’t surprise me,” you said. “friday’s are usually busy.”

“yeah especially when there’s two hockey players in town. heard someone at the bar talking about it, thought you might wanna know. simone said you were a fan?”

your stomach dropped to your feet. you took a hefty sip of your drink to avoid andrew seeing a frown on your face. there was a chance that it was a blues player still in town, but your gut knew better. if you were a betting woman, you'd bet your last dollar on it being brady and matt.

you wanted to throw up.

instead, you chugged the drink.

“whoa, you okay?” andrew’s eyes widened a little, maybe in concern, but there was something about the smirk on his face that said otherwise.

you gave him a shaky smile. “just fine. can i get another drink?”

he smiled immediately and got up to get you another.

and another.

and another.

your vision was blurring a little when you tried to cut yourself off, even as andrew was sliding another glass in front of you. you threw the drink back again, not even blinking at it.

matt and brady could be here. it was too soon to see them again, you weren't prepared to see them again. maybe if you drank enough, you’d black out and forget all about tonight.

but then andrew was grabbing your elbow, he was leading you towards the door, encroaching upon your personal space. his lips were on your neck, whispers of what he had planned for you.

your skin crawled, you wanted him off of you, but your arms were sluggish, you were tripping over your feet and he was the only thing holding you up.

“no,” you slurred. “lemme go.”

but he either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you because he kept dragging you to the door.

then the panic set in.

it felt like it came out of nowhere, but maybe the surmounting panic was always there like a loyal friend. you tried squirming out of his grip, shoving at his chest, but the panic was building the longer he held onto you. your head was shaking furiously, your mouth doing its best to protest, but it was like the alcohol made your tongue heavy.

“lemme go—” you tried shoving one more time before you heard a shout in the distance. 

“hey!” you weren’t aware of the people around you being shoved to the side, you were unaware of the rage surrounding you. you were unaware until andrew was ripped away and you were being shoved into another body.

“matt hey—”

brady. you were right, brady was here.

god you loved brady.

“brady?” you slurred, smiling lazily up at him. “you’re here! why’re you here?”

with one arm, brady kept you pressed to him, but he wasn’t acknowledging you. his eyes were focused on his brother holding the collar of your date.

oh. your date.

there was no rhyme or reason for the feeling of horror that washed over you when you realized what almost happened before matt and brady showed up.

you were gonna throw up.

or pass out.

you weren’t sure when you started hyperventilating, but it felt like the walls were closing in. was the music always this loud? was matt always that loud when yelling? you wouldn’t know, he hardly ever yelled at you—

“hey,” brady’s gentle voice sounded it your ear, but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. “hey, breathe, it’s okay. you’re safe now.”

the funny thing about hyperventilating is no one wants to be hyperventilating. it’s similar to worrying in that telling someone to stop worrying is ineffective. brady telling you to breathe wasn’t helping because it wasn’t like you wanted to be light headed and struggling to get oxygen.

your mind was just racing with the thoughts of what almost happened.

were your hands shaking? or was the world just rocky? was it the alcohol? why did andrew give you so much? was he planning on—

oh god.

oh god.

“matt!” brady’s voice again sounding like a deep echo in a cave, one you could barely hear. “matt, i think he got the point, she needs you.”

did you?

but it didn’t matter what you thought, because you were being gently pulled into a pair of arms you would’ve recognized anywhere. you could be deaf, blind, and mute, you could’ve had your nose plugged so you couldn’t smell his aftershave and you still would’ve known it was matt. his arms were the only ones that felt like home.

maybe it was the way your head tucked under his chin perfectly, or the way you could hold your own hand when you wrapped your arms around his waist. maybe it was the way matt tried to fit you into his ribcage whenever he hugged you.

“hey,” his voice was quiet, hoarse from the yelling probably. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while i’m here.” his lips were on the top of your head, mumbling the words into your hair.

“he—he was gonna—”

matt was shushing you, running a hand up and down your back. “do you wanna go outside? get some fresh air?” you nodded against his chest, a place you used to lay your head on at night.

matt walked you outside, brady not far behind. he was supporting most of your weight. you were still incredibly drunk even if the event that just happened sobered you up a little.

your hands were still shaking, your knees a little weak, though you weren’t sure what the original cause of that was. if it was from alcohol, the sleazy date, or just being held by your ex, you weren’t sure.

what a year tonight has been.

your heartbeat slowed down as you listened to matt’s. his hand continued to rub your back in long lines.

“you’re okay,” he continued to say. “i’m not gonna leave you. you’re safe right here, baby.”

your heart soared at the pet name until gravity kicked in and you were right back where you started.

rock bottom.

you pushed away from matt, now that your heart rate had decreased. you stumbled a bit from the lack of stability, but you managed to right yourself before matt could get his hands on you to help you balance.

“you okay?” he asked.

“no,” you mumbled, shaking your head despite the world feeling like it was spinning too fast already. “no. i’m not okay.”

matt took a step towards you, it was like watching a film in slow motion, seeing his face fall as you immediately took a step back.

“baby i—”

“stop! stop calling me that!” you yelled even as your words slurred, throwing your hands up in the air before pulling at your hair. “you—you don’t get to call me that, not anymore. and you certainly don’t get to ride in like some white knight coming to my rescue either!”

“what’re you—” he cut himself off before running a hand down his face. “he was going to hurt you, i wasn’t going to let that happen!”

maybe it was the alcohol that made you more honest than normal. “why? you don’t seem to care what happens anyway?”

“what the hell are you talking about? i would never let someone hurt you, not if i can stop it.”

“but you had no problem hurting me? leaving me in a country alone?”

matt’s jaw dropped. “you can’t seriously be comparing the two. he—he almost—he had every intention of—” but he kept cutting himself off. and by the looks of his clenched fists, it was hurting him more just thinking about it.

and he was right, what almost happened with andrew and what actually happened at the hands of matt were two different things, but it hurt more from matt, the man who swore he’d be at your side, to love you through it all. he’d dropped you like a bad habit and was expecting everything to be normal again? like you hadn’t spent over half your life completely in love with him?

you sighed, your shoulders sagged, all fight evaporating your body once more. “thanks for help, i’ll see you around.” you turned on your heel and nearly ran into brady, whom you forgot was even there.

“let me drive you home,” brady said. “‘s the least i could do.”

brady at least let you sit shotgun this time, with matt in the back. and when he pulled up to your house, matt was the one to walk you to the door like he had many times before.

“can we talk?” he asked. “sometime this week? or next? or whenever you're free?”

you looked at him, really looked at him. his hands shook at his sides and you longed to hold them in your own to steady them like he did for you earlier. “why’re you doing this to me? why can’t you just leave me be?”

matt stared at you before he pressed his lips together. he looked off to the side almost like he was looking at brady waiting in the car or a scrap of self control, or maybe just the right words to say. “i don’t think i’m capable of letting you go.”

your voice caught on the words in your throat. “i need you to try, matt. because i can’t keep doing this. you can’t call me baby when i’m not your baby anymore.”

he nodded. “just one conversation, i promise.”

you should say no. you should just let it go, but you didn’t think you could deny matt anything if he really asked for it. “okay,” you said. “just one conversation.”

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter three:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: smut (semi-public, dirty talk, brief thigh riding, lingerie kink, degradation and praise at the same time? just filthy tbh)

➴ word count: 1.5k

➴ author’s note: …i have nothing to say for myself.

liked by spotify, billboard, morgan.grace and 1,028,923 others

sophiamontenegro rip to my feelings. 11/11.

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user1 RIGHT ON MY BDAY TOO LETSS GOOO

billboard 🎤❤️‍🔥

morgan.grace i love u i love u i love u

jackhughes ❤️

user2 YESSSS YESSSS LORD YESSS

user6 user12 this is probably a good time to tell you that i wanna break up. bye

sophiamontenegro user6 user12 nah that’s wild…

user4 sing ho!

user86 WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT JACK BEING ALL OVER SOPHIA’S INSTAGRAM LIKE THAT MAN IS LIKING AND COMMENTING ON EVERY POST WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOUR

user8 user86 girl CHILL that little guy is a whore he’ll do anything for a girl including being active on social media

— ♡

WITH all of the things you had to do before releasing your album, it had been almost two weeks since the last time you saw Jack.

Which, if you were to be one hundred percent honest, you were grateful for. Trying to figure out what you were feeling whenever you were around him was already hard enough to do on its own, now doing it with Jack around? Even worse.

You still texted everyday, although you didn’t know what that meant in your… fuck-buddies-situationship. With your previous arrangements, you only texted if one of you wanted to have sex. Besides that? Never.

But, in your ultimate defense, Jack was the one to start it. With simple texts like “hey, how are you?”, he built some type of text schedule between the two of you, and you wouldn’t be the one to break it.

To your extreme horror, you actually missed him: his masculine, clean scent, his warm hands around you, his jokes, his laugh, his kisses and his dick.

You often wondered if he was having sex with someone else during the time you were apart and that thought made you ache. You knew it wasn’t any of your business, and you knew he was technically allowed to do that— and so were you— but it still hurt nonetheless.

“Can we get some warm lighting on top of her, please?” The photographer’s voice brought you back to the present, where you were shooting some pictures for your collaboration with Skims. You never cared much about the Kardashians but damn if those lingerie didn’t look good on you.

Someone moved the lamp around so that the warm lighting was now hitting your face, and you started posing again. It was your last outfit, and you were tired. It was half past nine and after shooting for six hours straight, you just wanted to go home and sleep. But, you still had at least fifteen more minutes.

“That’s great, Soph, you look awesome.” The man complimented you, earning a smile. At least the people there were nice and you felt comfortable enough wearing lingerie around them. “One more for me, please.”

— ♡

liked by kyliejenner, skims, trevorzegras and 3,982,022 others

sophiamontenegro angel in blue, devil in yellow. skims

View all 17,628 comments

trevorzegras 🥲🥲

arianagrande jesus !!!!! ♡ 🪄

user1 how are u real girl wth

user7 GOR GE OUS

jackhughes i like blue

user2 jackhughes soldier get up…

morgan.grace Im pregnant

user3 i wanna be u when i grow up

user8 if i buy the set will u come with it

— ♡

ENTERING your changing room, you felt exhausted. Everyone left to have dinner and you were waiting for Grace to arrive, so she could pick you up. You were still wearing the two piece set, a blue babydoll and panties; your hair was still perfectly styled and your makeup flawless.

You heard a knock on the door, and you scrunch your nose, wondering why Grace would knock. She was against all types of knocking.

Opening the door, nothing could’ve prepared you for Jack standing there, looking gorgeous as always; gray sweatpants, a loose hoodie and blue eyes devouring you.

“Jack? What are you doing here?” You asked, confused.

“Grace told me you’d be here, shooting something,” he said, eyeing your entire body, taking his time. “Geez, I wish she would’ve told me you were shooting for Playboy.”

“It’s not for Playboy, idiot. It’s for Skims.” You rolled your eyes, opening your door and letting him in.

He leaned against the closed door, smirking. “I don’t know who Skims is, but I wanna tell them thank you.”

You giggled, cheeks red.

“Do a little twirl for me, baby,” he asked, voice soft yet demanding. You did, slowly twirling around, showing him your set. “So fucking pretty.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, Sophia.” He stepped closer, putting his hand on your hips like always. You breathed in, not wanting to confess how much you had missed it. “And you’re all dolled up too, huh?” He briefly kissed you, just a tiny peck, really, which did wonders to you anyway. “I want to fuck you with those panties on. Make you ride me with that baby doll.”

“Jack,” you moaned, feeling your pussy starting to get wet against the fancy fabric of your panties. “We can’t do it here. What if there are people outside?”

He laughed, holding you closer, hands running up and down your thighs and ass, ignoring your wet spot on purpose. “What? Like you care about people knowing how much of a slut you are?” He scoffed. “Please, Soph. We’ve been here before,”

Your mind brought you back to that night at Nico’s place, or that one time you both fucked inside his car, or the day you sucked him off in the Devils’ locker room. Semi-public sex wasn’t exactly a problem to you, but putting on a fight always felt good.

“We have to be quick,” you whispered, giving in. As you always did.

“With you riding me while wearing this? I’m sure we’ll be.” He stated, and you laughed, as you both kissed again, bruising, hard and passionately.

His tongue caressed yours while his hands did the same with your body, fingers finding your clit over the panties and rubbing it once, twice, before moving to your hole, inserting his finger over the panties.

He lifted you with ease, leaving you with no choice but to wrap your legs around his hips, hoping that you wouldn’t leave a wet spot on his hoodie. He sat on the couch that occupied half of the room, with you on his lap, kissing you still. Your head was dizzy, mind going everywhere at once, and you couldn’t help but grind on his cock, indeed leaving a wet spot on his pants.

He pulled his pants down, and you eyed his perfect, hard cock: big, thick and the mushroom head red, spurting pre-cum. All for you.

“Inside me, please,” you mumbled, rubbing your clit on his thighs.

He laughed before grabbing a condom from his pocket. “That’s new. I didn’t know sluts knew how to say please. I guess you are desperate.”

And you were. It’s been two weeks since the last time he was inside you and you were climbing up the walls.

“Jack, please,” your voice sounded way too needy, even for you, but you didn’t care. If begging would get you his dick, then so be it.

“With you asking so prettily, who am I to say no?” He answered before pulling your panties to the side and lifting you up just enough to sit you on his— now— protected cock. You both moaned, you clenching your hole around him, clit throbbing underneath the lace. “Fuck, Soph. You’re milking my cock, baby.”

“God,” you moaned, slowly starting to ride his cock. You knew you both needed to be fast, so you were going to make it quick.

Sliding up and down on his dick, you rode him with ease, searching for your own release, while he pushed his hips forward, slamming into you with precision, hitting all of your right spots.

You two were too familiar with each other’s body, you knew each other so well and the realization made your head hurt and your clit throb.

Putting your hands on his shoulders to support your body, you were moving fast, fucking yourself open on his cock, while his right hand stroked your clit hard and fast, making you squirm and whine.

“Look at you, such a pretty thing, letting me wreck this tight pussy,” Jack whispered in your ear, still fucking you nine days into Sunday. “You’re mine, aren’t you, baby? All mine to fuck and care.”

“Mhpmm, yes, fuck, baby, yours,” you moaned a little too loud, forgetting about the fact that someone could be outside, hearing you and Jack fucking like two animals.

All that mattered now was coming on Jack’s cock and making him come too— which didn’t take long, since you both arrived at the same time a few minutes after that.

Coming down from the high, you both tried to make your breathing steady again, you resting your forehead on Jack’s shoulder, not wanting to leave, not now, not ever, his cock sitting still inside of you, making you feel full and warm and taken care of.

“All great in there, sweetheart?” You heard him whispering in your ear, while caressing your back with his left hand.

“Mhm.”

He chuckled. “Was I too rough?”

Even though it was clear you loved when he acted rough with you, he still asked every now and then. You thought it was the cutest thing ever.

Raising your body slightly, you stared at him, blue eyes reflecting yours, making you smile, tiredly.

“Nothing that I couldn’t handle.” You shrugged, genuinely happy. Exhausted? Yes. Happy? Also yes. “Jack?” You whispered, biting your bottom lip.

“Yeah, baby?” He whispered back, pressing his thumbs against your lip so you’d stop hurting it.

“I like you,”

You weren’t expecting him to say anything back, honestly. Coming to terms with the fact that you liked him was still something you were working on, but it would hurt less in the end if he pushed you away now, before getting your hopes too high.

Smiling right back at you, he kissed your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and then your lips, gently.

“I like you too, baby.”

[man-i-love-fanfiction]

To Share the Space with Simple Living Things - Hozier x Fem!Florist!Reader

Chapter One: Blue Hydrangeas- Gratitude

Summary: Your job as a florist has been the highlight of your day for years. It becomes even more exciting when a certain new customer becomes a regular.

Word Count: 2286

Author's Note: Hey guys! My first multi-chapter fic, i'm so excited!!! i don't have a strict posting schedule, but I won't go more than two weeks without an update. please bear with me here because I have no idea what it's like to be a florist. I hope you all enjoy!!

p.s. special shoutout again to @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading, i can't thank you enough!

fic below the cut :)

You were a part of the small minority of people who actually loved their job.

The concept of this was strange to most people — strangers making small talk, men asking introductory questions on dates, even your own parents. Maybe because it wasn’t exactly a career; more so a job that someone has as a way to make rent while getting their degree, which is how you originally began to work at Earth's Laughter Florists. College had been years ago for you now, and yet you stayed behind the counter, making bouquets for customers with a genuine smile on your face. It got to the point that when the old owner decided it was time to retire, she chose you to take over. Of course, you immediately accepted; this job was the best part of your day. While all of your friends were going insane with their office jobs, you… admittedly still went insane from time to time, just in a much prettier workplace.

You had even taken it upon yourself to learn flower language: different types of flowers having different symbolic meanings. It was almost like extra credit. It gave you a new challenge of arranging flowers while keeping both color and symbolism in mind, and helped you create bouquets and arrangements with more meaning. This, in turn, gave your customers a new incentive to buy different flowers for different occasions based on what they meant. More business for you, more smiles on people's faces, and more money in your pocket. Everyone wins.

Another benefit of the job — your favorite part — was that it gave you small glimpses into the lives of other people. Flowers had a multiplicity of sorts. They were so versatile that people bought from you for almost every occasion. Weddings, funerals, birthdays, dance recitals, you name it. It made you more appreciative of others. Every day was a new insight into whatever your customers had going on. And today was no exception.

You arrived an hour before the store opened, as usual. You went into the back and threw on your apron, adjusting your name tag. Thoughts of everything you had to do before opening ran through your head, and you quickly began to busy yourself with everything from giving some flowers new vases of water to following up on an order for a wedding. Your two coworkers came in around a half an hour after your arrival, donning their aprons, saying their hellos, and also beginning their day. When the time finally came, you flipped around the sign hanging from the door, telling everyone outside you were open. You stood behind the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

One of the only downsides of your job was that it required a lot of patience.

It's not like you were just staring at the clock, biding your time until a customer entered. You still had work to get done, mostly tying up loose ends from what you didn't finish before. Your coworkers were occupied with a tall order of arrangements, so they stuck to the back, with the occasional popping in to ask if you needed assistance. Politely, you declined.

Mundane was the word that kept repeating itself in your head as you did your odd jobs around the store. Not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, mundane meant nothing horrible was occurring (even though it meant nothing was occurring). Of course, mundane never does last long.

You had just finished creating an arrangement to put on display when your first customer of the day walked in.

The bell above the door rang, and you quickly walked back over to where you were supposed to be standing, not even bothering to see who had walked in until you were behind the counter.

The first thing you noticed was that he was taller than you had expected, with long brown curls that fell down to his shoulders. His outfit, a black turtleneck, a brown leather jacket, and black jeans, was the right mix of formal and casual; you could tell he had somewhere to be, but with people that wouldn't mind if he laughed a little too loudly.

To top it all off, he was handsome. You couldn't pull your gaze from him if you tried.

He walked forward, slowly looking around at all the flowers on display until his gaze locked onto you. He broke the silence between you.

“Hello. I need some flowers.”

You maintained your composure and brushed off your previous thoughts. You started your usual routine, asking him the same questions to get to know the situation (and him) better.

“What's the occasion?”

“It's my mum’s birthday.”

“Does she have a favorite flower?” You asked. He replied with no hesitation.

“She loves hydrangeas. Blue hydrangeas. She always has.”

His immediate answer brought a small smile to your face. You nodded intently and began to think of all the possible combinations of flowers that would work well.

“You're specific. I like that. That makes my job easier. Usually guys say something like ‘I don't know’ or ‘the purple ones’ or just ‘roses’. It's like some people don't even pay attention.”

“Well, that's all I know how to do.”

“A blessing and a curse, I imagine.”

“More of a blessing, believe it or not.”

“I have a similar blessing, though it seems to be laser-focused on plants of all things.” You joked. “Speaking of plants, let me start on your bouquet.”

You left your spot, walking over to the wall of flowers on display for you to pick from. You stopped and stood next to the man, fixated on the wall as you tried to decide what flowers would go well together, in meaning and in visuals. Mumbling, you thought out loud.

“Alright. For his mother. Blue hydrangeas… that's gratitude. What can go with that?”

The customer tilted his head in confusion, clearly having heard you.

“I don't mean to interrupt, but what's with blue hydrangeas and gratitude?” He asked. Your eyes widened, and you turned to face him as you started your explanation.

“Oh, it's flower language. I learned about it to help me make more symbolic bouquets. Back in the Victorian era, people would use bouquets of flowers to convey messages they couldn't say out loud. Most of the time it was a love confession, though you could also reject someone if you picked your flora wisely. Individual flowers have meanings, too. Blue hydrangeas, your mum's favorite, symbolize gratitude. There was even a change in the meaning based on which side the ribbon was on, or if they were given upside down, and…” You cut yourself off when you realized you’d been talking for much too long, your excited expression dropping. “I’m rambling about something you definitely don't care about. I’m sorry.”

He gave you a confused look, and a small laugh of disbelief escaped him.

“What? Don't apologize. That was fascinating. I don't know if I’ll ever see flowers the same way again. In a good way, of course”

The fact that he was actually invested in what you had to say pleasantly surprised you. People — not just customers, people you actually choose to surround yourself with — would often tune you out after the first two sentences.

You knew this man for two minutes and he was already raising your standards.

“Well then, I’m happy to give you a new perspective. I’ll get started on your arrangement.”

You stepped back to get a better look at the flowers lining the walls of the room. You already had a vague idea of what you wanted, you just needed to put it into action. Hydrangeas were grabbed first, and made the focal point of the bouquet immediately. Other flowers were picked up and put down, a trial-and-error of sorts until you found which ones truly matched.

Occasionally, you looked over your shoulder to find your customer still standing there, spectating you from a few feet away. He watched you with a certain gleam in his eye, one you would attribute to admiration if you didn't know any better.

Once your selections were made, you picked out a plastic sheet and took the flowers into the back, where there was a smaller room with a much larger table surface for a workspace. The wrapping was laid out, and meticulously, flowers were laid down. Rearranged. Shifted around. After a few small touches, everything was in the exact place you wanted it.

You finally finished up, wrapping the flowers in the silver plastic and tying it up with a blue ribbon. You went back behind the counter and held the bundle of flowers up, pointing at each one as you described the meaning of each specifically selected flower.

“There's the blue hydrangeas for gratitude, white roses for loyalty and beauty, and belladonna delphinium for protection and well-being. You're basically showering your mum with compliments with this thing.”

“It's gorgeous,” he replied, the look of astonishment from before lingering on his face.

“As nature tends to be.”

“I mean, you can't argue with that, but the way you’ve arranged them, it's… stunning. She’ll love it.”

His compliment surprised you; it wasn't too often you got such a compliment for a simple bouquet. It caused your heart to flutter in your chest in a way that definitely crossed the border of the employee-customer relationship you had going on. Frightening. Maybe if you kept acting unaffected, it would magically stop.

“Let me ring you up.”

There was no true cash register, and you instead relied on a pen, a yellow legal pad, and mental math for customers’ totals. It took a moment, but you calculated what he owed you.

“That'll be $54.”

He muttered in agreement, and you watched as he reached into his coat pocket. His hand stayed there, fiddling around. After a moment, he reached the opposite hand into the opposite pocket. He felt around for a second, pulling his hands out and placing them on his hips. His content expression was replaced by one that was much more panicked.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…I forgot my wallet back at my house. Do you take any online payment?”

You shook your head.

“No, sorry. We're old school. That's alright though, I can put these to the side and you can run home and get your wallet.”

He let out a frustrated sigh in response, angry more at himself than anything else.

“That's the thing. I live thirty minutes from here and I’m meeting my mum in fifteen minutes, and I have specific instructions to be on time. I might just…”

He stopped his sentence, paused, and took a deep breath to calm himself.

“I’ll find something else. Thanks for all your help, though. You have a gift.”

You caught the sincerity behind his now bitter tone, and it made your heart ache. He turned to leave and took a few steps forward. You didn't process that you had said anything until his reaction.

“Wait.”

He immediately stopped in his tracks and turned around, and you realized your impulses led you to call out for him even though you had no plan whatsoever.

Biting at your lower lip, you thought of an idea. You genuinely wanted to help this man give his mother flowers… The fact you found him attractive was merely an added bonus. Besides, the pity you felt for him overrode that. Once the metaphorical light bulb lit above your head, you spoke again, leaning in closer and lowering your voice so only he could hear.

“Okay, I’m not supposed to do this, and this definitely isn't a good business practice, but I can tell you're not just doing this to steal flowers from me, so I’ll make an exception.”

He leaned in as well with a look of intrigue. You continued to explain.

“You can take the bouquet for now, and then within… I don't know, two days, you have to pay me back. I’d just need a name and phone number so I can contact you if you don't show up.”

You snatched one of your business cards from the display and flipped it over so the blank side faces upwards, leaving a pen in front of you so he could write. He picked up the ballpoint, seemingly scribbled for a moment, and then slid the card back over to you. Written in surprisingly beautiful handwriting, you read his name aloud.

“Andrew… Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

“I know.”

This caught you off guard. For a second you wondered if maybe you did accidentally give a free bouquet to a shady guy.

“Excuse me?”

Andrew’s mouth went agape as he realized the connotation behind what he said, and he quickly muttered an explanation, flustered. “Oh my god! No. Not like that. You… your name tag.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, and you gave him a nod.

“Right. Forgot that was there for a second. Alright, take your bouquet. Happy birthday to your mother. And remember, two days.”

He gave you a gesture showing his gratitude, pressing his hands together.

“Thank you. So much. I don’t know how I’ll repay you.” He said, grabbing the bouquet.

“Hopefully with money in two days,” you joked.

He let out a laugh.

“Money would do the trick. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon.”

You watched as he left, the smile of your face growing as you noticed his appreciation of the flowers you had arranged by the doorway. He paused for a moment before opening the door and leaving, and you caught him humming a tune you'd never heard before.

You hoped he would come back much sooner rather than later.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au p aring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> abuse, mention of sex / pregnancies, etc. words -> 2.3K

abstract -> Never owe people favors it could one day cost you your life...

y/n’s perspective

“Taeyong, you can’t be serious,” I said as I was now in the office of the devil himself. And he's called to get his end in a favor. “You owe me,” he said and I scoffed. 

“You’re literally chasing in a favor from when I was in college,” I said and he only grinned. “You still owe me. Besides, it shouldn't be dangerous” and I scoffed at his reassurance. 

“It's just an interview. You’ll wear a wire, and all I need is evidence” he asked and I sighed. “Fine. But I won't risk my life for this, Taeyong” I said and he nodded. 

“I would never put you in a dangerous situation. This won’t hurt you”

“Do you have to do this? Or at least take one of us with you?” Yeosang asked and I shook my head. “I have to repay him. He helped me a lot in college… besides he's trying to do a good thing” I explained and they sighed. “You’ll be okay right?” Wooyoung asked as he hugged me tightly. 

“Of course, he explained that I'll be going in for an interview and he’ll be listening in case. He will only interfere once he's gotten information though, so I won't be in danger. This won't affect us” I assured them and they nodded. 

“Be careful, circus hybrids are some of the most deprived and abused hybrids” San warned and I nodded. Over the years people stopped performing with animals and advanced to hybrids because of their ability to be trained and have a human way of thinking

Even though many people thought it was better it's not too well known that it's abusive to them just repeating history. “Be careful” they said as I was now on the elevator waving bye to the boys. 

They've really grown. 

I’ve officially had San and Wooyoung for five months. Whilst Yeosang joined us two months ago. It's actually been seven months since I originally adopted Son. I couldn’t be happier to have them by my side. 

Now I had to pay my debt to the devil named Taeyong. He truly does hold grudges… 

I walked into the VIP line where I showed my journalist ticket. I would be able to take pictures, and even conduct an interview. As I walked in I noticed the hybrids on display. 

There were two specifically at the entrance. They had bold big letters ‘MATZ’. They were meant to sit there in a glass box… it didn’t even have enough room to walk one step. In a smaller print were their names. 

Seinghwa was the one smiling and bowing, whilst Hongjoong only stared. He would be too far down, he could probably be dangerous. The ones around me started flashing lights at them… it clearly bothered them. I made sure to ask Taeyong to give me a camera without a flash. I took a photo of the surroundings. Another reason why he had me do this job and not Mark was because I have a hybrid specialist license to see and even handle red-coded hybrids with supervision. 

I knew how to analyze their behaviors. So when I saw Hongjoong, he had the potential to be a black code hybrid. 

“Hello! Welcome, it's an honor to see such esteemed guests !! I hope you may enjoy the show !--” as he spoke I saw his ringmaster look. He had jesters and clown costumed people handle hybrids. A few were assigned to cuff and ensure ‘MATZ’ did not act out.

They were tigers and therefore dangerous. 

“-- Of course, if you need help please ask one of my staff. I look forward to the interviews I’m scheduled for” he said as he left. As the staff looked at our tickets I was led to the back. I was given a pre / post-interview. 

“Hello, I’m going to be conducting an interview?” I said as I now saw the ringleader with the two tigers. They had chains connecting to their collar which looked like ones that were for black code hybrids. 

“Ah yes, may I ask which firm it is under?” he asked and I nodded. “It would be under the N.E.O. Firm” I stated and he nodded. 

“I see. How is Dong Sicheng ?” he asked and I smiled. “He’s actually on vacation at the moment. Last I heard he was in China visiting a few friends. '' I answered and he chuckled. 

“I know, your firm isn’t too keen on me,” he said and I noticed the curious eyes of the tigers. “Well, the firm has hybrid rights associated. It has been for years now” I answered and he nodded with calculating eyes. 

“That it is. Though I can assure you, our hybrids are treated like family” he said and I smiled softly as I wrote down notes of the two hybrids behind him. They were clearly agitated by his words, almost like he was lying.

“Well then. What are your questions?” he asked politely. “How many hybrids currently do you have registered?” I asked and he nodded. “Around fifty dear,” he said and I nodded. “And all are vaccinated with the current hybrid regulations, health up-to-date, VISA’s registered?” I asked and he answered yes. 

So he denied hybrid trafficking, and hybrid health neglect.

“May I ask you to talk about MATZ?'' I asked and he nodded. “These two were born into the circus. Their parents are a mix from our circus and a breeder which I know personally” he explained and I saw how Seonghwa kept on staring at my coat. His ears were twitching and I noticed Hongjoong’s glare at me….

“These two are such close friends we thought that a show would be most beneficial and fun for them,” he said while lifting his hands to pet their heads making them both clearly uncomfortable. Seonghwa stared wearily whilst Hongjoong looked like he could bite any minute.

“May I ask if I own hybrids?” He asked and I contemplated. “Decline anything in your personal life” I heard on the headpiece Taeyong gave me.

“No, I do not,” I said and he nodded. “Are you against the ownership?” He asked and I shook my head. “Not necessarily… it would take a lot of circumstances for me to adopt a hybrid,” I said and the ringmaster only nodded. 

“I can assure you every hybrid here is taken care of, and we’ll look after it, '' he said and I noticed Seonghwa's gaze. It wasn’t like Hongjoong’s glare; it was almost like he was pleading for help. 

“What’s the situation with heats?” I asked and he chuckled… “I don’t believe in heat suppressants. I let them go on with it with the other gender hybrid” he explained. 

Meaning it's how he has so many hybrids… he’s illegally breeding them. “Are you not worried about pregnancies?” I asked.

“No… some of our female hybrids are sterile so they can’t reproduce either way” he explained.

It wasn’t abuse per se to sterilize a hybrid… but it was being argued for hybrid rights.

“How long have you had this duo?” I asked curious. “Hmm, these two rascals? Well, they were born in 1998 and they’ve been with me since then.” He said and I nodded.

Would they speak out against their master? They would’ve seen everything… been through… everything.

“Sir?” I heard a clown asking for the attention of his boss. “Ah give me a moment my dear, why not have an exclusive interview with a MATZ performer. Hongjoong needs some touching up so Seonghwa treats her nicely '' be said and I knew the reason why they took the orange tiger away was because of his behavior.

“Be careful, an abuse hybrid can be triggered at any mention of abuse. Ask simple questions.” Taeyong said and before I could start I looked at him.

He stared at me with soft eyes and a smile... it shocked me how gentle his expression looked.

“I’m not fragile for you not to ask me,” he said and I felt my eyes widen. “The moment you walked in I heard that radio of yours… it kinda hurt at first” he confessed.

“I’m sorry,” I said but I couldn’t turn it off for my safety.

“It’s alright… you're not the first person to come here to infiltrate this place,” he said with his ears flattening on his head. He was losing hope for himself.

“How many hybrids are there?” I asked and he sighed. “I’ve lost count… it is over a hundred by now and more to come” he explained. “Oh, and he doesn’t register hybrids in case they die. It’s a miracle to even survive birth here… let alone survive being a baby here. We aren’t checked for until we’re cubs… after that, we’re never looked after again. The only thing he’ll ask to do is hygiene for his top performers” he explained.

“I’ve heard of your firm from the clowns… they hate you,” he said and I chuckled. “They said something about a girl writing about hybrid rights. Since then they’ve shut down several enterprises” he said and I smiled.

My reputation follows me.

“They might know who you are, be careful,” Taeyong said and Seonghwa only stared at me with twitching ears.

“You must have really good hearing to catch it,” I said and he smiled softly with his tail swishing behind him.

“Thanks… but it comes in handy with the staff,” he said and I sighed. 

“Do you have anything you want to tell me?” I asked and he swallowed down saliva showing how nervous he was.

“I’ll tell you everything if you manage to burn this place down,” he said and I sighed. “How about we make a promise?” I asked and he looked at me confused.

“I’ll shut this place down… but that’ll be the easy part. I’ll still need some more evidence after to concrete it” I asked and he nodded.

“Good luck”

The show was like any other hybrid show. 

You could see the fear in hybrid's eyes when they made a mistake and had to cover it. Clowns and performers have the upper hand. 

MATZ had the opening… they did dangerous stunts. There were a few times they stumbled but otherwise did the best they could. The crowd loved them… I saw the contrast of the two… fear and anger.

Once the show was over I did a closing statement with the ringmaster and some staff who showed me around.

“And our opening act. Did you enjoy it?” they asked and I smiled when I saw Seonghwa and Hongjoong in a tiny cage. It had enough room for the both of them but it must've made them feel trapped.

The staff were talking to other reporters when I noticed the heavy glare Hingjoong was giving me.

Seonghwa got his attention and looked to be scolding him only for him to scoff. He looked over at me and bowed in an apology in which I shook my head. 

“I hope you enjoyed the show” 

seonghwa’s pov

As the reporters left with the staff, Hongjoong glared at me. “Quit acting that way” I scolded and he scoffed

“She’s not the first person to come here asking for questions with a wire,” he said and I sighed.

“You heard what they said about that firm though—“ “She also said how she didn’t own any hybrids but owned three,” he said and I was confused. 

“She has hybrid scents reading out of her. You shouldn’t trust humans so easily… one day it’ll be you they’re disposing of” he said and I looked down.

“I… sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out that way. I’m just sick of this Seonghwa but this is our life and it’ll never change” he said and I chose not to believe that. 

I had hoped that she’d complete her promise.

“Hongjoong…. Sometimes you just have to have faith that people are still good. We don’t know how it is outside… maybe it’s different” I said and he sighed.

“But is it any better?” He asked and before I could respond I heard yelling.

“Woah!? What are you doing?!” I heard as I saw the ringmaster following… policemen? 

“This place is being temporarily shut down for inspection and so are the hybrids in this vicinity. If we find anyone trying to smuggle or hide evidence you’ll be under arrest for tampering with a crime scene” he said and I also noticed people with white lab coats. 

“Start arresting staff members and performers. Contain all the hybrids as well” he ordered and the last thing I saw was Hongjoong defying them whilst I felt a sharp pain in my neck.

Everything could only get better… right?

Waking up in a white and cold room was not what I expected…

“White tiger hybrid seems to be malnourished, untreated second-degree burns, underweight, untreated cuts, and dehydrated. Seems to be approximately 25 years old and unclassified code due to tranquilizer” I heard… Was that a doctor?

I tried sitting up but my wrists were bound. 

“You’re awake? Are you going to comply?” he asked me and I noticed how close he was. He seemed to purposely try to annoy me… “Classified as yellow. He’s one of the tame ones” he said into the radio. Classifications? I knew very little of that… but yellow wasn’t bad?

“The orange tiger is awake, and is showing a lot of aggression” I heard on his radio… Hongjoong? “Tranquilize him,” the doctor said and I struggled against the constraints. “He’s your partner, right? They won’t hurt him, but he will hurt us… he’s in good hands'' he said and I scoffed. Like I’d trust humans now after… 

“What happened to the reporter?” I asked and he looked at me confused. “She promised to help me… what did she do?” I asked and he hummed. “She’ll be conducting interviews this following week. So be on your best behavior or you’ll end up in a higher code” he said as he left the room. 

She actually… helped us?

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[xtreklx]

Low ~ Raphael x reader

One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader Word count: 3.7k Warnings: cursing, mature themes, and slight NSFW, so this one is rated 18+ (minors DNI, see my masterlist for disclaimer) A/N: holy Toledo this one's a doozy. I've been working on it for a while, and it's def one of my favorite things I've written so far (at least, for now..). loosely based on the song Low by SZA, and lyrics are included in the text where I see fit. also I added color-coded dialogue for funsies. thank you guys for all the love on my stuff, and I hope you enjoy :)

__________

As a young, blossoming adult, your life so far has been overall steady. It staggers here and there, of course: moving in waves as life often does. But for the most part, it is everlasting mundanity. Your early twenties are supposed to be where it begins to roar; when you obtain the dizzying adrenaline and overwhelming fear of free will. Empty wallets, fleeting romances, broken hearts, anxiety, love, hurt. These emotions are meant to be felt, and life is not lived without them.

So, as life would have it, your steady mundanity was indeed set ablaze in your early twenties, when you fell in love with someone you had originally thought you hated.

Some might call that cliché. But, in actuality, not quite.

You had been friends with the mutant ninja turtles for years, ever since they saved New York City from the infamous Kraang attack of 2016. Your father was a police officer, and you had all met at the post-battle award ceremony and celebration. You and the turtles were 17 at the time, and you saw them repeatedly after that as they continued to work with the NYPD. Over time, you grew to become the friends you were now.

Well, not all of you. From your first encounter with the brawny brother in red, you discovered that he had quite the knack for pushing your buttons. While Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donatello became some of your closest friends in the world, Raphael did everything he could to block you out. He was argumentative, temperamental, and unpredictable. You two could fight about anything: what kind of toppings to put on pizza, DC vs. Marvel, song or movie choice, even knitting patterns. The two of you were always bickering, always finding some way to make a snide comment or butt heads about something.  You couldn't stand him, and the feeling was very obviously mutual. 

On the topic of heads: flash forward five years later, when it finally came to one. You had been spending a lot more time with your turtle friends after finishing off your online degree program. While you were happy this was the case, the tension between you and Raphael seemed to be growing the more often you were around.

One day, the guys had gone out on their regularly scheduled patrol, with Raph staying behind because of a particularly nasty fight with Leo. You were waiting in the lair for them to return so that you could have your weekly movie night, but you were growing bored, and Master Splinter was nowhere to be found. Thus, you made the difficult decision to go bother Raph as he worked out in the dojo. 

When he saw you approaching his bench, he groaned through a rep, his eyes rolling back into his head. "What do ya want, shortstack?" He grumbled as he continued to bench press his barbell, the veins in his big, green arms flaring with each movement. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed. "Save it, meat head. The more entertaining members of this family are gone, so I'm stuck here with you and nothing else to do. So..." You paused for a moment, watching as a scowl grew on his face while he continued his reps. "Do you want a spot.. or something?"

Raphael let out a breathy laugh as he set the barbell down back onto the stand. "Easy, tiger," He spoke as he sat up on his bench, side-eyeing you. "Even if you could lift this bar, I sure as shit ain't letting ya spot me. You'd purposefully drop it on my head before I could even bat my eyes at ya."

Your arms uncrossed and your hands went to your hips as you took a step closer to the red-masked brute. "Pssh, like I'd ever let you bat your eyes at me. I'd gouge out my own eyeballs before that could happen."

He scoffed up at you as he began to unwrap the bandages on his hands, which had been protecting his calluses from the aggressive texture of the metal bar. "Gee, yer a real charmer, aren't ya?" he questioned sarcastically, slightly under his breath. "Must be why you gotta line of men falling at your feet. Someone's gotta tame the tiger."

The dig at your love life (or rather, lack of one) made your face heat up, and you clenched your fists at your sides, taking another step closer to the brute. After all these years of bickering and insults, you were finally nearing your limit. "God, I try to be civil with you for one single day and you're a total asshole for no reason. What's your damage, Raph?"

Raphael whipped his head to you, the bandages he had just finished unwrapping long forgotten as he tossed them to the floor. He stood up from his bench as he spoke, taking a step towards you. "Ain't that easy. Yer my damage, sweetheart. Always have been, always will be."

"Oh, yeah?" You two stood not even a foot apart, and you were glaring up at him with the most intimidating look you could muster. "And just what exactly is your problem with me?" You could feel your heart rate increasing from the growing tension in the room. The air surrounding you felt like it had been injected with adrenaline, and you felt your temperature rising by the second. "Another easy one," Raph growled, looming over you. "You annoy the shit outta me, and ya never know when to shut yer goddamn mouth."

Your rage was increasing by the second, and by the fumes you felt radiating off of his mutant green form, you could say the same for the turtle in red. You were practically pressed against each other, him with a scowl on his face and you with a fire in your eyes. Your chest puffed up, and the words were out of your mouth before you could have a second thought.

"I bet you'd like to make me, wouldn't ya?"

It was silent after that. After quickly thinking it over, you almost gasped aloud at the implications of your words. The eye contact changed from a heated stare battle to his hazel eyes dominating, searching yours. You had been feeling very confident up until this moment, but that sentence alone caused the confidence to wither away, confusion at yourself taking its place. What the fuck did I just say?

Raphael's snarl had changed into a look of surprise. Confusion. And then back to anger.

With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed your waist and smashed his lips to yours. 

And that was the kerosene to the match that set your young adult life ablaze. 

The kiss was all burning rage, gory passion. It was tongues brushing and teeth clashing and a harsh grip on your waist and an even harsher grip on the tough, scaled skin of his shoulders. It was embers and flames and then the roar of a forest fire.  

You couldn't help the sounds that the kiss drew from deep within your chest. You didn't know how or why, but your soft lips fit oh so perfectly against his rough, scarred ones. Your mouths moved together in a harmonious rhythm despite the chaos, even as he gripped you by your thighs and carried you to his bedroom, as if you had practiced this a hundred times before. It felt like second nature to kiss Raphael, even though this was your first time doing so.

And you hated that you felt that way. 

What followed could, in no universe, be described as love-making. It was desperate and reckless ecstasy, a steaming release of the fury and tension you had been feeling towards one another for all these years. It could be seen in the way your nails clawed at his tough skin, in the way he pounded himself in and out of you, in the way your needy moans synchronized with his low grunts, in the way you clenched ever so tightly around him as he filled you with himself; it was aggressive, rough, almost mean.

You and Raph stilled for a moment after it was all over, breathing heavily and not saying a word, when you suddenly heard commotion coming from the living room. You made eye contact quickly, eyes widened, before scrambling to get dressed and cleaned up. You scurried out of his room and into the hallway, making it look to the returning brothers like you had been merely using the bathroom. And neither one of you spoke of it.

If you see me out in public, you don't know me, keep it silent In the bedroom, I be screamin', but outside, I keep it quiet Keep it on lowski, I'm the lowest of the lowest Wanna see if you can keep it like nobody know shit

The months that followed held similar tales of hidden passion. You and Raph never outright discussed what was transpiring, but assumed the unspoken rule of not mentioning it to his brothers. You continued to hang out with them when you could; on movie nights, you told them that you liked to wait in the lair for them to return from patrol so that you could eat all the popcorn without them. If Raphael stayed back from patrol, you snuck into his room or the dojo with a sarcastic remark and a smug look to annoy him to the point of 'teaching you a lesson'. If one of you was feeling particularly desperate to let off some steam, he would sneak out to your apartment on their nights off, telling his brothers that he was going to go get some air to 'clear his mind'. No matter what time he called or texted, you answered. It was almost like an addiction; you couldn't get enough of each other, and you couldn't deny how the other was able to satisfy you perfectly. 

You know how to reach me every time and it plays in your mind With a rush that feels like we committin' a crime You know where you belong, I'm gon' save you a spot But we can't be outside 'cause the block is too hot And I'm all on your mind...

At first, as stubborn as you both were, you kept up your gig of hating each other, despite the passion you were displaying. Between kisses and within sexual acts, your bickering continued relentlessly. "Wow, ya didn't even wear panties today. Gettin' desperate, are we?" "By the looks of your crotch right now, I don't think I'm the desperate one, dumbass." "Ya better watch yer fuckin' mouth." "Why, Red? Can't handle the heat?" "Oh, I'm boutta show ya heat, sweetheart." 

It was a balancing act, both of you trying not to break face and show the other how much you were enjoying these rendezvous of yours. Pride is a crazy thing, however, and as the situation went on, it began to manifest itself in other ways. 

Raphael was the one to start it, about a month into the endeavor. He couldn't help himself; after a day of arguing with Leo and feeling like a disappointment, he sought you out to release his frustrations. And the way you looked writhing and whining above him (as he munched like his life depended on it) had him feeling real smug. His hazel eyes watched you as he worked, the liquid gold shining with mischief. When he came up for air, his hands still keeping busy, the pride emerged.

"Anyone else make ya feel like this, doll?" He asked, his low voice scraping your ears like gravel, a dark smirk spreading across his face. "Tell me. Can anyone else make ya feel this good?" You had rolled your eyes and scoffed in the moment, but couldn't help the moans that continued to emerge from your mouth at his actions, clenching the sheets beneath you. He saw your bratty behavior and abruptly halted his movement, holding your hips still so that you were trapped. "Answer the damn question, or I'm stoppin'." You squirmed for a moment, whining, but your need had consumed you like a demon. "No!" You yelped. "No one else makes me feel this good, Raph! No one else makes me feel like you do! Please don't stop, please!" You wouldn't have called it begging after the fact, but he most certainly did. 

After that, something shifted. Sure, your sessions were still utilized for tension release, but there was more of a possession between you two than there had been before. The two of you were hanging out more often than you ever had. The bickering lessened, and in its place was validation, need, and your names on each others' lips. The contact grew more tender, and the conversations afterwards were more joke-y and only held friendly fire.

"So... do ya wanna put on that movie you were tellin' me about the other day?" "Wow, you wanna watch a movie with me? You must reallyyyyyyy enjoy spending time with me, Red~" "To be honest, I'm not here for you, I'm just here for the take out I know yer gonna end up orderin' later." "I love this hot n cold thing we have going on here. It's really turning me on." "Yer such a fuckin' goofball."

Between the two of you grew a mutual respect, an understanding, a cooperation: a love.

You found yourself thinking of things you wanted to tell Raph about when he wasn't around, and craving his input when you sought him out for advice. You yearned for the sound of his gruff voice and his blunt choice of words that always made you laugh or eased your mind. He found himself longing for the random questions you asked him or the jokes you'd regularly crack (whether they were funny or not) and the angelic sound of your laughter. Neither of you told the other about these feelings you were having, but they continued to develop on both sides.

Raphael found himself pondering these feelings one day while hitting the bag in the dojo, growing frustrated with himself. You had been in the lair hanging out with his brothers, and he continued his workout routine in the interest of being discreet, but he longed for nothing more than to hang out with you. To just be with you like his brothers were right now.

Of course, a particular brother in blue was bothering him more than normal. Leo was closer to you today than he normally was: giving you long hugs, sitting close to you on the couch, making you laugh with his idiotic jokes. Raph scoffed as he heard your laugh from the living room now, throwing an extra aggressive jab. What did Leo know, anyway? He'd bet that he could make you laugh twice as hard. He stopped, annoyed with himself for being so worked up, and stepped away to grab a towel and some water. 

As he made his way over to the mini fridge to grab a bottle, he was surprised to see you making your way over to him. Normally, on nights like these, he didn't expect anything from you besides your staged bickering until his brothers went to sleep or you went back to your apartment. You had a playful smile on your face as you approached the mini fridge, a message in your eyes that he couldn't quite make out, but goddamn he knew they were trying to say something to him.

"Hey, big guy. Leo sent me to grab some water," you looked up at him as you spoke, the smirk still on your face. And all the hope that Raph had felt in that moment dissipated, like popping a balloon. He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes before grabbing a water bottle and walking away. 

"Wait, woah. What's the matter?" He heard you ask from behind him, confused. He shook his head as he walked. "Nothin's the matter," He spoke slightly under his breath, but you could still hear him. "Why don't ya just go back to Leo? You're all over him, anyway."

He heard your footsteps as you followed him over to his bench. "Hold up, do you have a problem with me hanging out with your brother?" Raph couldn't make eye contact as he turned around to face you, so he looked down at the ground and huffed, eye ridges furrowed.  "Well, ya know me, and I don't like ta share. So if you're gonna hang out with him like that, then go ahead." 

"And just what would you be sharing?" You stood your ground a couple of feet in front of him, arms crossing at your chest and a determined glint in your eye. "Be straight with me, Raph, 'cause it's time we talked about this. What's going on between us?" He let out a grunt, shocked at your sudden confrontation, but still refusing to make eye contact. "Obviously nothin', if yer gonna go hang with Leo like that."

You inhaled, trying to maintain your patience. From the proximity you now held with the turtle in red, you knew you wouldn't get anywhere by fighting back. "Let me rephrase that. What do you want to be going on between us?" Raph moved to turn away from you, huffing again. "I don't know! Geez!" He exclaimed, before you grabbed his large bicep. He faced you, his massive form towering over your frame as you stepped close to him. He finally looked into your eyes, and saw nothing but a genuine question. No teasing, no tormenting, just a silent plead.

"Hey, talk to me, Red. It's just me." You smiled softly, begging eyes searching his liquid gold ones for something, anything, to grab onto and run with. He let you for a moment, before looking down at the ground again, growing more and more frustrated with himself. He took a deep breath, and kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke. 

"...I'm not very good with words, ya know that." He paused for a moment, making quick eye contact with you before looking back to the floor. "But I just... I like how this is goin'. How we're goin'... I like us together. I like bein' with ya, Y/N, and I just wanna do that without any of the other shit. I..." He stopped again, taking another deep breath. "I want to be with ya for real. And I'm sorry if I messed this up and that's not what ya want--" 

"I want that, too, Raph," You cut him off with a rising smile on your face, not being able to wait any longer. "That's all I've been wanting to be honest. I should have mentioned it earlier." Raph returned his eyes up to your face, shock gracing his expression. "Wait, so yer not into Leo?" He questioned, slightly caught off guard. You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. "No dumbass, I'm into you." He watched your smile grow into a beam, silent, before a smile began to grow on his face as well. 

"God, finally," a voice exclaimed before Leo came out from behind the entrance of the dojo, walking up to the two of you. "It took you guys long enough. Even I was getting impatient." "Thanks buddy," you said to him, smiling as you guys bumped fists. Raphael watched the exchange, confused. "Wait... what?" He asked gruffly, eyes flicking between you and his brother. "You knew... about.. us?"

"Dude, we've all known for a while." Mikey shouted from the living room. Donnie walked past the entrance of the dojo and paused, a newly filled cup of coffee in his hand. "Yeah, you guys aren't exactly the most discrete," he said, before continuing his stroll back to his lab. Leo chuckled before turning back to his brother. 

"I was tired of watching you guys sneak around, so I finally confronted Y/N about it last week, and she spilled the beans on how she felt about you. Something told me you felt the same way, call it a brotherly instinct. Or maybe it was all the times you not-so-secretly snuck off to her apartment." He gave his muscly brother a playful punch to the bicep. "So pardon me for playing matchmaker a little bit."

You took a step closer to Raph, hugging yourself around one of his arms and looking up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, I mayyyyyyy have gotten impatient and recruited Leo to help me move things along. That's why we were all cuddly today. But you don't mind, right?" You jokingly pressed him, batting your eyelashes. 

He rolled his eyes at you and scoffed, removing you from his arm, but wrapped his arms around your waist instead of pushing you away. He pulled you from his side to his front, turning you to completely face him and ignoring his older brother present in the room. "Yeah, I guess it's fine or whateva," he fake-sighed, bringing you close to his plastron and leaning in toward you. You, too, leaned in, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck. 

"Okay, at least wait until I'm out of the room to start sucking face," Leo commented, turning around and booking it out of the dojo. The two of you turned your heads to watch him leave before facing each other again, glowing smiles on your faces. 

"So... I guess I tamed the tiger, huh?" He teased gruffly, nudging his snout into your cheek. You giggled, a mischievous glint reaching your eyes. "Who said anything about tame?" You teased back, playing with the ends of his blood red mask.

"That's my girl," he murmured, before smashing his lips into yours.

[heartofbusan]

Best laid plans of stomach bugs and men.

The chemistry is the point.

Some people underestimate the effort and toll it takes on ones body and schedule to fly 14 hours to visit another person. 14 hours to spend 72 hours together means commitment. It means bro's before ho's and I am frankly HERE FOR IT.

The discourse I am seeing is extremely telling of how fickle people are about their support for jikook. People watch too much scripted reality tv 🙄 bcs they really expected this relationship, this reunion if you will, to play out in multiple angle close ups and medium shots and several wide angle shots with dramatic zooms and heavily directed post-moment recaps with dramatic silences or eye rolls to play up the drama? The lack of moments, the MUNDANITY if you will IS THE POINT. They are so real to me, so life like, so domestic goals!

Being quiet with each other. No uncomfortable silences, but comfortable togetherness.

That's what leads to horny bed fighting, which in my eyes could lead to more if not for the cameras 👀 just me?

When they said unscripted, this is what they meant. When they said unplanned, this is what they referred to. Not directed, not scripted, not fanservice 🙄 to fit a planned narrative. This is how their relationship plays out. I'd go so far as to call it a documentary instead of a reality series. While documentaries have tons of genres within itself, this genre is one where there's a broad range of planned activities, but where the narrative is constructed in post production: editing. Id know, since im an editor. This tells me that they counted on the natural chemistry between 'JeonJi' (SO CUTE) to 'lead the way' instead of a multitude of directed interactions that they (the producers) would have needed to tick a dramatic narrative box.

So what does that lead to? In my professional opinion as a director/editor the first two episodes lacked a dramatic arc. There was little directing going on to force one

the chemistry is the point

The flirting, the lulls in conversation, them being together, seeing them have fun, and reconnecting is the point. Instead of what they're doing or what they're talking about. The episodes, therefore, are kinda boring in the sense of entertainment, but wildly exiting in the sense of what we get to see play out. And it's incredibly nuanced. And nuance often flies over people's heads..again, the crowd that expects to be held by the hand when it comes to drama: reality tv.

It's a huge risk to take as a production. Let's not underestimate that! 'Are You Sure' was so unscripted that they didn’t even have a title until halfway into the second or third day. Again: they were banking on JeonJi to build upon their chaos to lead to a narrative and a title, etc. That is so telling to me. That them being together is the raison d'etre of this show. Jimin 'sacrificing' his time to fly to the US, Jeonkook making space in his busy schedule time to spend time unwinding, JeonJi making good on their need to finally spend time together after the booked and busy year they've had.

Jimin enjoying the hell out of Jungkook having fun.

Because that is who Jimin has always been: his adventurous spirit takes him places because he loves exploring and being in tue moment. He'll willingly travel to have those moments. Jungkook on the other hand doesn’t. He dislikes leaving the comfort of his surroundings because he doesn’t see the pot of gold that being adventurous brings him while he's comfortable in his home. I relate 😩 so much. Just planning trips alone makes me enter a comatose state, so I'd rather not go than sacrifice my rest to plan an adventure. I don't even know I'll get anything out of. That is, until Im actually on that planned trip and having the time of my life! They've always been like that. Jimin had to be the incentive to get Jungkook out on that trip. Take.him.by the hand if you will 😭😭

And then there's the stomach bug. YOU DAMMNED CURSED THING. It threw a HUGE wrench into their plans, and if anyone doesn’t take that into consideration, then you haven't had a stomachbug EVER while still having to face up to your commitments. Park Jimin will NEVER back down from his commitments, his promises *pinky promises* are sacred to him, and this bug took away the catalyst of this duo. Jungkook suddenly had to be the extrovert of the two, and boy, does he struggle in that role. He was to me his usuall baby elf self. So adorable and cute with his nose focused on food and Jimin’s care. But my man loves to rely on Jimin to lead the way in shenanigans and to make any moment entertaining, and you could just tell Jimin wasn't in his feels enough to overcome his lack of energy. Poor baby. Really, he's the best of us because I would have straight up refused to be filmed in that moment. A whole night of diarrhea and still showing up to film the next day?! NO MA'M NOT ME.

If you've read up to this point, I commend you. It was just supposed to be a short rant, but it became an entire essay because I can not with the overly reactionary nature some people show. Drawing entire conclusions based on two hour long episodes. I know, I might be contradicting myself here but extenuating circumstances and all. Jimin wasn’t on his game, and Jungkook was also recovering. When a show is banking on the chemistry between two people to shoulder the brunt of this show and said people are extremely sick, well then what can I tell you?

We need to sit back and enjoy the fact that we are getting such access to them, so unfiltered. Jikook enjoying each other, come rain or shine, in sickness and in health, whatever the mood brings, because that to me is more valuable than DRAMA or NARRATIVE. We'll probably get a bit more of that once they're going to Jeju, and they're both hopefully healthy. We're even getting a new element for them to play off of: Tete shows up! Like a jack in the box, and Jungkook seems to not be having it, lmao...see..unscripted and natural. I love that for them!

Idols are people first, and we need to celebrate that, not demand more.

[astonmartinii]

hii, can i request an insta au for lando? i don’t have something particular in mind, bit maybe best friends to lovers kinda thing? and their friends teasing them/ being annoyed? <33 love your work!!

best friends 4 ever | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x bff!reader

best friends? lovers? who knows?

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 320,879 others

yourusername: clubbing on a budget 🍒

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user1: where's lando?

user2: yet another post without lando, have they broken up?

user3: how can they be broken up if they aren't together?

user4: why do you people think lando and y/n doing things separately is illegal?

user5: why weren't you at the race?

yourusername: babes i'm just a bartender i do not have the schedule or the finances to just fuck off to saudi arabia for three days sorry xx

user5: you clearly had the weekend off?

yourusername: please refer to my previous statement on my financial standing

yourbff1: who is that stunning woman?

yourusername: u bestie

landonorris: glad you went with outfit choice number one

yourusername: thank you miranda priestly

oscarpiastri: so that's who i could hear you talking to...

yourusername: clubbing outfits are a serious business oscar

oscarpiastri: serious enough for a three hour call?

yourusername: YES.

landonorris: YES.

landonorris

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 902,894 others

landonorris: mood before the race v after the race, see you next year jeddah 🇸🇦

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user6: what driving a tractor does to a motherfucker

yourusername: what's a performance where a man is having the worst time of his life but looks sexy doing it?

landonorris: beauty is pain

yourusername: then you must be suffering

user7: mr and miss we're not dating flirting up a storm in the comments as per

carlossainz55: maybe focus less on modelling and more on driving

yourusername: so no more ferrari thirst traps?

carlossainz55: damn i forgot that coming for lando means dealing with you

yourusername: meet me in the parking lot chilli

landonorris: y/n is like my little chihuahua so come for me, watch your ankles

user8: do they think we're dumb?

danielricciardo: ah the classic post mclaren snooze, if only you had your cuddle buddy

landonorris: i know you miss me mate but i'll cuddle you in melbourne

danielricciardo: ok. not what i meant. but i'll take the free cuddles

user9: so he was defo referring to y/n, right?

daniel3.jpeg

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 708,655 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris, heidiberger

daniel3.jpeg: any wagon need a third wheel, i'm practically a professional now?

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user12: confirmation? this is confirmation, right? RIGHT?

yourusername: i gave you that banjo in good faith daniel and this is how you repay me?

daniel3.jpeg: i appreciate her !!!! thank you for my lessons, but these are cute so i will not be deleting sorry not sorry

yourusername: ur right we are serving

user13: life is just not fair

user14: official cause of death: the third slide

landonorris: how relegated to just an arm, i see how it is daniel

yourusername: you are literally the definition of pookie bear and cutieful in the first pic

landonorris: i'm going to need you to never say those words ever again

yourusername: that's not what you said last night ...

landonorris: you're right i am pookie bear

user15: actual pics + comments = y'all can no longer say i'm being delusional.

f1wagsupdates

liked by user16, user17 and 3,240 others

tagged: landonorris

f1wagsupdates: lando norris spotted on his boat in monaco with an unknown woman. the pair looked flirty and spent the whole day together alone on the boat. norris' rumoured girlfriend y/n y/ln was back in the u.k. where she works as a bar tender. what do you think?

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user18: i'm so confused rn

user19: i know we never had concrete confirmation but my heart is broken for y/n right now

user20: i don't want to jump to any conclusions, men and women can be friends, there's nothing in these photos that suggest anything more than friendship

user21: they're literally holding hands in the second pic

user20: i hold my friends hands every time i jump in the water doesn't mean i'm with them

user22: but the pic in danny's post .... i don't even know anymore

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 356,823 others

yourusername: food will never leave me

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user25: so like is this a dig after those pics of lando and the random girl?

user26: i know this is sad and all, but that kebab looks banging please tell us where you got it

yourusername: camden market babes

yourbff1: sexy girl, sexy food and sexy photography

yourusername: best photographer i know

user27: SHADE LANDP.JPEG YOU WERE NEVER THAT GIRL

landonorris: camden kebabs without me? offended.

yourusername: doing a lot of things without each other recently.

maxfewtrell: could've at least invited me i love that place

user28: oof. i feel like i shouldn't be watching this

lando.jpeg

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,305,066 others

tagged: yourusername

lando.jpeg: appreciation post for my bestest friend forever and the love of my life. i didn't want to give any attention to the rumours going around so i thought i'd just let you know i'm in love, i've been in love for years and will be in love with her for the rest of my life.

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user29: okay, now the confirmation is here, idk what to do with myself

user30: i survived the y/n x lando slow burn

yourusername: i love you too bob

lando.jpeg: i love you more, can't wait to see you

yourusername: i'm never letting you leave again

user31: so like you're gonna deny being all up close and personal with a random girl on the boat

landonorris: not that i owe you people anything, that girl is my cousin, she was visiting monaco and i showed her around. but it shouldn't matter, you guys don't know me personally and stop assuming things about athletes' personal lives.

yourusername: what he said.

carlossainz55: FINALLY

danielricciardo: i literally don't know how much longer i could've kept this a secret

oscarpiastri: i think we deserve a reward

charles_leclerc: i second this

maxverstappen1: i third this

maxfewtrell: i fourth this

yourusername: alright, alright we get it

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 607,845 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: i guess we owe our parents £50 xx

view all comments

user32: bro this shit has me straight up crying THIS AINT EVEN MY RELATIONSHIP

oscarpiastri: you guys are cute i'll give you that

yourusername: teammate stamp of approval get it @landonorris

oscarpiastri: i think you guys got that after i walked in on you after silverstone

landonorris: our bad lol

user33: this reads like a fanfic but they're so cute

maxverstappen1: awww lando was so cute in that first pic, what went wrong?

yourusername: u and kelly look like siblings, don't come for us

maxverstappen1: u got it

landonorris: i love you fairy princess

yourusername: i love you racer boy

note: enjoyyyyyyyyyyyy. i originally wrote this a while back but it deleted itself when my laptop had a meltdown. so this is a bit diff but i hope you like it anyway !! xx

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 1,820

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love

toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.

he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.

the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.

fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.

this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.

he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.

he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.

despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.

he knows it's selfish.

toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.

after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.

he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end. 

the expression on his features falls.

it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.

she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…

a deadbeat.

he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.

she deserves more than me.

he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter. 

he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.

except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.

belonged.

belonged.

it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.

a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.

“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock. 

he feels you press your forehead into his back. ���of course, where else would I be?” 

he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.

"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.

his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.

"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”

“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.

you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”

toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”

you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.

“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”

his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.

you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.

the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist

“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”

please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.

he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”

“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”

toji shakes his head.

“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”

you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.

he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”

toji drops his head and sighs.

“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”

you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”

toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”

the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.

“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”

toji blinks back his surprise.

“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”

you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”

toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”

"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."

he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.

your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.

"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.

"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"

he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.

"toji?"

his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.

you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.

"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."

""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."

your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.