#winter is coming for the tories

[tomorrowusa]

In the UK, political analysts and journalists have been searching the thesaurus to find synonyms for disaster to describe what happened to the Conservative Party in two by-elections on Thursday.

The by-election results only confirm that the Tories are on a downward spiral.

Peter Walker at The Guardian spells out the implications.

But even though Tory aides will point to the murky circumstances in which the incumbents in both Tamworth and Mid Bedfordshire, Chris Pincher and Nadine Dorries, departed their seats, Labour’s success will send a chill through the spines of Conservative MPs for several reasons. The first is the sheer scale of the losses. The byelection record tables for swings and biggest majorities overturned are becoming increasingly filled with votes that took place since 2019, and there is now another one to be added. Dorries’ 24,664 Conservative majority was the biggest numerically to be lost in a byelection at least since 1945, potentially ever, as Labour’s Alistair Strathern won a majority of 1,192. While Tamworth involved a slightly smaller majority, the swing to Labour’s second new MP, Sarah Edwards, of 23.9 percentage points to her party from the Tories, was even greater than the 23.7 percentage point swing in July’s Selby and Ainsty byelection. The second reason for Labour joy and Conservative jitters is the way that Labour pushed their way to a win in Mid Bedfordshire despite a full-on parallel effort from the fearsome Liberal Democrat byelection machine, one which has delivered four massive wins since 2021. The Lib Dems had insisted that in the mainly rural seat only they could tempt enough Conservative votes to switch to them. In the end, their vote tally rose, but even they were steamrollered by a Labour machine clearly motivated by the prospect of government. The Mid Beds result also carries another bad omen for Sunak and his party: the way that English voters are becoming increasingly good at deciding who they need to club together tactically to unseat the Conservatives.

Increasing numbers of people are voting tactically in these by-elections to specifically defeat Conservative candidates. They may not agree with everything that Labour or the Lib Dems may stand for, but the main point is to remove the Conservatives from power.

Tamworth is was statistically the 57th safest Tory seat in the UK out of the 350+ which the Conservatives hold. It doesn't necessarily mean that Labour and the Lib Dems would pick up almost 300 seats. But in the next general election, which must be held no later than 28 January 2025, the Conservative Party will have to defend many seats which they've been taking for granted.

One fun aspect of the October 19th by-elections is that the unsuccessful Conservative candidates bolted out of the buildings as soon as the results were made known. It doesn't violate any rules, though it's poor election night etiquette.

They probably had some idea where things were headed and wanted to avoid answering questions about the WAY bad night for their party.

To see the extent of the collapse of the Conservative vote, check out the results on a graph.

If you're wondering why the BBC doesn't list every single candidate on those graphics, check out the entire list for Mid Bedfordshire which includes one named Prince Ankit Love Emperor of India.

Here's a list of how parties fared in the 19 by-elections since the general election of 2019. The Conservatives have won just 1 of the 12 in the past 20 months; and that was a narrow victory to retain Boris Johnson's seat for Uxbridge and South Ruislip. More important than the number of Tory losses is their geography – constituencies lost to Labour and the Lib Dems in traditionally Conservative areas.

#uk #house of commons #uk elections #by-elections #tamworth #mid bedfordshire #labour #lib dems #conservative party #scottish national party #sarah edwards #alistair strathern #keir starmer #winter is coming for the tories

[brokenhardies]

Amber Talbot in Future Favourite Regret (title tbd)

“And my best friend - Amber - somehow managed to get three adult sidekicks while she was in college. And they’re all the same guy! And one of them has a limo and a gun, and the other one has a mummy suit and cool moon darts, and the third one has a British accent! How the hell am I supposed to compete with that?!”

Taglist

@darth-caillic @sterling-writes @ryutabas @reirvival @arrthurpendragon (want to be added or removed? send an ask or a dm!)

#ocappreciation #ocapp #ochub #queerocs #fyeahsuperheroocs #OC: Amber #story: emissary verse #idk when this movie is set but i feel like its gonna be set during summer vacation? which is gonna be #so weird bc its coming out in december which is winter in the northern hemisphere #i have watched the trailer like three times :') its my favourite trailer #and i kind of knew that when i saw billy talking to a 'therapist' i went 'oh no its gonna be billy's inferiority complex made worse by #amber getting adult superhero sidekicks' #basically if jealousy jealousy wasnt the title of tori's fic it would be the title of this fic #bc oopsies #tbd title is from the song telephone by waterparks

[tiredmoonslut]

Solitaire, This Winter, and Nick and Charlie have just arrived in the mail. The question is, does having them justify reading all the comics again before I start on them...

#I'm thinking yes #but I'm not sure #someone come break the stalemate #heartstopper #alice oseman #solitaire #nick and charlie #this winter #osemanverse #charlie spring #tori spring #nick nelson

[forlix]

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth. 

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire winter break of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment on the last day of your fall semester, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies. 

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.” 

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost. 

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place. 

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?” 

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead. 

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too. 

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but you were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

#felix x reader #lee felix x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #stray kids scenarios #felix fluff #lee felix fluff #stray kids fluff #lee felix #stray kids #skz fluff #k-labels #*writing #*oneshot

[keikikait]

ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part 3 of a series. you can find part one here and part two here

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s), slight nanami x reader (...)

word count: 3.4k

summary: the first two weeks of teaching again go by quickly. you find yourself right smack in the middle of the annual winter festival. gojo took his own date, and so did you. 

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst, some self-deprecating stuff, themes of depression, mean gojo, mention of blood, mention of getting eaten (pls don’t ask), cheating???? nickname use [baby, doll (once)], no use of y/n,

a note: this is a repost with an angstier ending, as a lot of angst was voted for (see poll), so here we are, though there is a happy ending. dunno if I'll ever do a part 4.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You and Gojo have a routine.

First, you get ready together, fucking in the shower, trying to push him off as you apply mascara as he greedily rubs up against you. You eat breakfast together, both enjoying your matcha (yours, of course, being a latte. Gojo always goes the more traditional route). He drags on the kiss as you exit your apartment, whining when he finally has to let you go.

Second, he stands a few feet away from you on the train as you make your way outside of Tokyo. He never looks at you, his focus on anyone or anything that catches his eye. You watch him, admiring him, wanting him to just look over so he could admire you too. You want Gojo to see you in the way you see him. You want him to finally care, to beg and plead for you, to feel the way you do. You want him to love you.

Third, you walk towards campus, a few feet behind him just in case anyone is watching. You watch as he effortlessly joins Shoko and Akari’s conversation as they walk up the stairs through the tori gate, not glancing back at you even once. You follow behind them, the sounds of their laughter filling your ears. Surrounding you. Swallowing you whole, only to spit you out broken and battered. The snow crunches under your feet, silencing your thoughts — but only for a second. Your thoughts are like wolves, stalking you and waiting to pounce, waiting for you to be vulnerable.

Your routine takes hold of you, and the days blend together as you relive the same painful day over and over. Maybe this is all a punishment for your hubris, karma from the gods for loving him. You watch him live so effortlessly without you, as you sit around hoping he’ll meet your gaze for just a second. The thoughts come, as they always do, and soon you’re surrounded by wolves, bloodied and battered and waiting to be eaten. And then, the wolves disappear into smoke, and you have Gojo for just a brief second before he pushes you back into the wolf’s den. Maybe this time you’ll let the wolves eat you. Your last words would be Gojo’s name before your mouth fills with blood as you get your throat ripped out. You wonder if you would even be on his mind after.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You look up from your desk to see Nobara standing there, smiling, her books in her arms. You zoned out through the entire lesson, students trying to pile out the door behind her. You look at her again and smile. “Yes?”

She smiles, clutching her books a little tighter. “Are you going to the festival tonight?”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly at the mention of the festival. “Yes, I am. Why?”

Nobara shifts on her feet. “Are you going with Gojo-sensei?”

Gods, even his name causes goosebumps to appear on your body. “No, Kugisaki-san. I’m not taking anyone with me.”

Nobara pouts a little. “Oh come on! You guys would be perfect together!” Your eye twitches and your stomach lurches. “It’s his loss, I guess.” She moves away as quickly as she appears, following Megumi out the classroom door.

You hear a snarl, and just like that the wolves are back. They follow you around as you make your way through your day, biting at your ankles. They follow you as you make your way off campus, heading to the train station. You slide your way into the crowd making its way into the station, pushing your way past students and businessmen. You’re trying to make your train, yes, but you’re also escaping the wolves that are chasing you, foaming at the mouth at the idea of tasting you. You fear that if they catch you you might never make it out alive, your body left cold on the floor of the train station, people stepping over you and moving on with their lives, because, in the end, you didn’t matter.

“Excuse me,” You say softly, pushing past a tall man. Your fingers brush over the light tan colouring of his suit as you put your hand on his arm to steady yourself in the crowd. The man mumbles something before he looks over and tilts his head. He says your name so softly you almost don’t hear him. You finally get a look at his face as he towers over you, and your heart beats a little faster. “Nanami?”

You’ve met Kento Nanami before and spoken in brief conversations, even when he’s been an adjunct professor at the school and taught a lesson. You always noticed that he didn’t speak a lot, at least not to you. You appreciated the silence sometimes, a stark difference from Gojo’s constant running mouth, but the times he would simply just ignore you while you helped him plan lessons and prepare demonstrations left a bad feeling in your stomach. In those moments you didn’t just wonder if you were good enough for Gojo, you wondered if you were good enough for anyone. 

He looks deep into your eyes, and the wolves turn to dust. He smiles softly at you, but in your eyes, it looks almost forced. “Hey there. Long time no see. How are you?”

You think this might be the most words he’s ever spoken to you. “I’m doing great. How are you?”

Nanami nods. “Fine, you know how the 7 to 3 life is. Are you still assisting Gojo at the school?”

It’s your turn to nod this time. “Yes. For another year and a half.”

He smiles, and it seems more genuine than the last. “A year and a half of dealing with Gojo… I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.” You laugh, and it’s the first genuine laugh you’ve had in almost a month.

Instead of catching your usual train home, you opt to sit and chat with Nanami. This is the most extroverted you’ve ever seen him, and this is definitely the most eye contact you’ve ever shared. He leans back on the bench, legs stretched out straight, playing with the end of his tie while he talks to you. 

You had noticed it before, but now you’re certain. Kento Nanami is hot. His voice, his face, his hands, his arms…you’re finding yourself squirming on the bench and trying to calm your nerves as he stares at you, almost forcing you to keep eye contact. 

You stiffen when you hear the next announcement, the realisation hitting that it’s your next train arriving soon. You stand up, gathering your things. “My train is almost here. I’m sorry that we have to cut this conversation short.”

He waves it off. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll just have more to talk about next time.” 

Next time. You feel slight butterflies in your stomach when thinking about your next conversation with him. All you manage to say is, “For sure. I would like that.” You head to your platform, clutching your bag close when Nanami calls your name again, much more confident than before. You turn to face him, the wind from the train approaching whipping through your hair.

He glances down the platform, seemingly nervous. “Are you going to the festival tonight?”

You have to speak a little louder as the train starts to near the station. “Yes, I am.”

Nanami smiles, a look of nervousness still staining his face. “Great. I’m going too. What if we went together?”

The train approaches and you yell over the noise, “I would like that!”

He hears you and smiles, yelling his goodbyes over the train as you enter its doors. You find a seat next to the window, and you wave to each other as the train starts to move. The train pulls out of the station, taking you home, and a smile creeps onto your face as you sink into the seat. Part of you feels guilty, begging you to consider your relationship with Gojo, but the other part of you thinks; what relationship? Plus, you’re going to the festival with Nanami as friends, acquaintances, nothing more. At least, that’s how you view it.

You head home, once again finding yourself vulnerable in the wolf's den. You wonder how it would feel if you let them attack you, how it would feel to be pinned down and scratched and chewed on like a piece of dried octopus. Would Gojo notice you, finally, as you lay dead, your blood leaking out of your shredded throat? Would he turn away, avert his gaze at the sight of his dead lover? Or would he simply stare before stepping over you?

The wolves stalk you as you make your way back to the station, the snow falling softly, sticking to your hair. You feel nervous; nervous about seeing Nanami again, and nervous about seeing Gojo with Himiko. You had almost forgotten her name, but deep down you wish you did. Maybe thinking about her as a faceless, nameless entity would make your throat stop closing up.

You climb your way up the steps of the school, and you start to smile when you see Nanami waiting for you. The sun is setting, casting a beautiful pink glow to him, and in this moment you think he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. The glasses he’s normally wearing are long gone, and he switched out his suit for a black sweater, dark blue slacks, a long brown trenchcoat, and a scarf in the same Rorschach-esque design as his usual tie and sword. 

Your stomach flutters as you approach him. “Hey.”

He stares at you for a second before saying, “Hey.” You stare at each other, admiring one another, and butterflies in your stomach won’t stop flying around, bumping into the walls of your intestines. You don’t know what you’re feeling, and you don’t know if you like it.

You clear your throat, stepping towards the gate. “Let’s head in.” Nanami nods and follows you inside the campus. You walk together through the festival, the air around you almost feeling electric, the campus replacing its usual student occupants with a bustling crowd and food carts. Takoyaki, yakitori, yakisoba, everything just smells so delicious. Maybe the wolves won’t be hungry for you tonight.

You and Nanami wander, your hands occasionally brushing as you chat about work and life, lost in the heat of your conversation. You find a stall finally offering drinks, and you both purchase some green tea before sitting down, your back to the festival. You’re in the middle of one of Nanami’s corporate world stories when his eyes drift behind you and he smiles. “There he is!”

Confused, you look over your shoulder, only to be met with the looming figure of Gojo. He stares down at you and Nanami, his blindfold covering his eyes. Right next to him is, you assume, Himiko, a tall woman, dressed to the nines in what might be real fox fur. She’s beautiful. More beautiful than you. You hear another snarl as the wolves come creeping out of the dark classrooms, towards you. Was this your competition? Your replacement? Did she have his heart already, or did he hide it from her like he did you?

Gojo clears his throat, glancing away before turning his gaze back to you and Nanami. “Here I am.”

Even now, you admire him. He’s so effortlessly beautiful, everything he does causes you to lose your breath. The way the wind pushes his hair back, the way his hoodie sits around his hips…you’re in love with him. As much as you hate it, as much as it destroys you, you love him. You can practically feel the wolf pinning you to the cave floor and ripping your beating heart out of your chest, chewing it, and swallowing it in one bite.

Nanami notices your gaze, too. He notices the way you look at Gojo, the absolute adoration in your eyes. The way your breath hitches, the way your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. The way your cheeks change colour and the way your whole body relaxes. Nanami notices Gojo’s body language, too, almost as if he could see his eyes under the blindfold. He puts it together too quickly, and clears his throat, standing up from the table, trying to hide his disappointment that you were in love with someone else. “I’m gonna get another tea.” He moves through the crowd towards the stall and you go to follow him, brushing past Gojo when he suddenly reaches out and grabs your arm, squeezing it tight.

“We need to talk,” he says.

“No, we don’t,” you respond. He squeezes your arm even tighter, before tugging you along behind him as he walks away from Nanami and Himiko. 

Gojo drags you into his classroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He stares at you, his arms crossed, before finally speaking, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You’re confused, and your eyebrows furrow slightly. “Trying to enjoy my time at the festival.”

Gojo’s voice is laced with poisonous anger, and you’re almost afraid to breathe it in. “With Nanami?”

You swallow. “He asked me to come with him.”

Gojo's shoulders relax for a second before tensing up again. “You’re on a date? With Nanami?”

Your face turns red. “This isn’t a date.”

“Yes, it is,” Gojo says firmly. “He asked you on a date. And you agreed.”

You find yourself starting to get angry. “So what if it is a date?”

His jaw clenches. “Excuse me?”

You take a step back. “So what if it is a date, Gojo? You’re on one too, in case you forgot.”

Gojo laughs. “You mean Himiko? This isn’t a date. I’m just doing a favour for Shoko, I’m trying to help her friend get settled into the city. You shouldn’t be mad at me for --”

You interrupt him. “Cut the shit. You’re on a date with a girl who isn’t me.”

“It isn’t a date,” Gojo says.

You feel yourself getting angrier and angrier. “That’s what it looks like.”

“It doesn’t matter what it looks like,” Gojo says. “It isn’t the truth. If you would just let me explain-”

“Explain what?” You snap, the anger threatening to break the surface. “How do you agree to go on a date with another woman?”

There’s a pause before he says, “Don’t interrupt me again, doll. Remember who’s in charge here.”

Your fists clench. “God, can I fucking talk? Sat—Gojo, you have to understand how it makes me feel.”

You fucked up. You know you shouldn’t call him that, that forbidden name, but it just slipped out. Your words die in your throat, and your anger starts to dissolve into anxiety. You don’t know much about Geto, but you do know that Gojo’s first name is reserved for him, and you broke Gojo’s only rule. 

He doesn’t say anything, but you can physically feel the shift in the air. A cold shiver runs down your spine. The mask across his eyes doesn’t help, his emotions unreadable. 

“Gojo, I’m sorry,” You say. You approach him gently. “I’m sorry.”

You feel yourself getting more and more anxious as he just stands there. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t speak. He just stands there, looking down at you from his imposing height. You can only sit helplessly as he tosses you back into the wolf's den, and you can’t run away as they start tearing at you. You wonder if he’ll keep your head, mouth open and cold and blue, on display on a mantle on his wall, a message to all that watch to never love him.

It feels like an eternity before he speaks. “I trusted you."

Your bottom lip trembles. "You still can. It was an accident--"

"It doesn't matter if it was an accident or not," Gojo says, looking down at the ground. "You know not to call me that. Don't act like you can replace him."

A few tears fall down your face. "No...I know I can't, Gojo, I know I can't replace him. But I swear it was an accident."

"It doesn't matter," Gojo says after a beat. "What matters is you’re mine, and you're on a date with Nanami."

"It's not a date, Gojo," You say. "He and I are just friends."

"You would only be here with him if you had feelings for him," Gojo says.

You start to cry now. "I have feelings for you, Gojo. Not Nanami."

That makes him pause. "I know you do."

"Then why are you here with Himiko?" You ask, starting to feel angry again. "Why aren't you here with me?"

“Himiko means nothing to me.” Gojo says. "You know we couldn't go to the festival together. It would be suspi--"

"Suspicious, yes, I got it." You snap. "You didn't have to go with her. You could've turned down Shoko's offer."

"And what would I look like then?" Gojo asks. "I would look like a bad friend and a bad coworker. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Why does your reputation matter more than me?" You ask, your voice becoming louder.

"Because it's all I have!" Gojo says, his voice matching yours. "I'm Satoru Gojo, I'm the strongest! I can't have any baggage, I can't have anyone be important to me. That's how I become weak, and that's how I lose everything. Including you."

"Why do you treat me like this?” you ask, angry tears running down your cheeks. “Why do you always put me second? Why do you always make me feel so unwanted? Am I not good enough for you? Am I not what you want? Am I not what you need?”

He pauses and remains silent for a long time. He takes a deep breath, his voice stern once again. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You are good enough for me, you’re too good for me. You’re the most beautiful, caring person that I’ve ever met. I treat you like garbage, and yet you always come back to me. I’m mean to you, and you accept it with a smile on your face. But you have to understand that this is more important to me. It's more important than you…if I appear weak, I fail. If I fail, I lose everything and everyone." He gets close to you, grabbing your face. "I already lost someone important to me. I can't lose you too."

"Do you care about me?" You ask softly.

He nods. "Of course I do."

You swallow hard, nervous to ask your next question. "Do you love me?"

He hesitates.

In that moment, even without him speaking, you know your answer. You go to say something else but he interrupts. "I can. Eventually. One day. I just can't love you right now."

"When is eventually?" You ask.

He shakes his head. "I don't know. I care about you, you know that. You know that I love our time together, and I look forward to every single second I get to spend with you. I just can't love you right now, not in the way that you want me to. The way that you need me to."

"Will you ever love me?" You ask.

He doesn't hesitate when he answers, "Yes."

You close your eyes, sighing. "When?"

He strokes your cheekbones. "Soon."

"How close is soon?"

"Close enough."

You pause. You feel the presence of the wolves again, biting on your ankles, threatening to drag you down into the depths of the den and tear you limb from limb. Would they chew on your bones after? Would it be quick, painless? Or would you survive for just long enough to watch them eat you?

Gojo calms the wolves, but only for so long. He’s a protective light as you hide in the walls of the den, stepping over the corpses of those before you. He’s the one, he’s all you’ve ever wanted, and you think you’ll regret this.

You nod, accepting his answer.

He pulls you close and hugs you. He kisses the top of your head and takes a deep breath before saying, “Have I ever told you about Geto?” You shake your head, you know next to nothing about the man. Gojo never told you, and you never asked. He strokes your hair and sighs. “Do you want to hear about him?” 

You nod, and Gojo tells you.

He tells you all about Geto — Suguru, as he calls him. You’ve never heard him speak so softly. He recounts his memories, smiling and even laughing at some parts. You listen to every word, and you don’t speak. You can tell, just from his words, that Gojo loved him, but you can also tell that he will always love Geto more than he loves you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part four is here

★taglist: @heijihattorisgf, @strxxberries, @sadmonke, @mo0nforme, @whereflowerswenttodie, @mwtsxri, @tuliptoot, @certainduckanchor, @softhrted (italics mean i couldn't tag you)

#keikiwrites #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #f!reader #angst #jjk angst #gojo angst #✿: gojo!

[tkwrites]

Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)

gif from @drysaladandketchup

Title: Back To You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck  x Jessie (ofc)

Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).

Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together? 

Word Count: 12,700

Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs

This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.

Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing. 

Me and you  We were a strange situation  And kissing you  Felt like Christmas Vacation  An exciting place to escape  Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday  -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ

Back to You

Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one. 

With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.

He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before. 

Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music. 

“Do you need a towel, man?” 

“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.

“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”    

Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed. 

“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”  

He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.

“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”

Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot. 

As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.

“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder. 

She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide. 

“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.” 

Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women. 

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.

The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights. 

He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music. 

Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it. 

“Sure,” she yelled back. 

“Wanna go to the bar?”

After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on. 

She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.

Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.

“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter. 

“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it. 

Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted. 

“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “

“Jessie. Are you from around here?”

“No, but my brother lives here. You?”

“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it. 

“Yeah? Which one?”

“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”

“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. 

“Fashion.”

“I should have guessed,” he said. 

“You should have?”

“Yeah. You have great style.”

The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her. 

“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it. 

His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.

Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.” 

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”

“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”

“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”

“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country. 

He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it. 

“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle. 

A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.” 

“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.” 

“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.” 

He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little. 

“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit. 

“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.” 

“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made. 

“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said. 

The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.” 

The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college. 

He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk. 

They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion. 

She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants. 

“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!” 

He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.” 

A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space. 

She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.” 

He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue. 

Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled. 

The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat. 

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.  

“Sure.” 

They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.

When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest. 

It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake. 

He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi. 

For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released. 

They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay. 

When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin. 

Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted. 

“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered. 

He leaned down, then paused, “okay?” 

Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer. 

All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach. 

Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.

It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come. 

Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale. 

They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.

She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness. 

The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision. 

The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.

Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling. 

The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn. 

“I have to find my sister,” he told her.

As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried. 

“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.

“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name. 

“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.

She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside. 

To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank. 

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left. 

“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”

“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe. 

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”

It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.   

Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions. 

As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.

“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother. 

“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot. 

“Seemed pretty serious.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.” 

“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.” 

“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd. 

Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained. 

He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed. 

Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.” 

The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home. 

As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.” 

The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Whoa,” Brady said in warning. 

Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin. 

The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together. 

“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.” 

The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard. 

Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app. 

Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over. 

It was after four when he finally fell asleep.

He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet. 

“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.” 

“Thanks,” he said dryly.  

“Listen, I heard you last night.” 

His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?” 

She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.” 

A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling. 

“Is this about that girl?” 

“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -” 

She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”

Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her. 

Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside. 

Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.” 

A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.” 

Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something. 

“How can we help you, darlin?” 

“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?” 

One of the women stood, “what does it look like?” 

“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.” 

She walked over to a rack behind their table.

The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows. 

“Is it condemned?” 

“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile. 

“Did they find out what caused it?” 

“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.” 

“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around. 

Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”

As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t. 

“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?” 

“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”

“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.” 

They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”

She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had. 

“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?” 

She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note? 

She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am! 

“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”

“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.” 

It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.  

Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts. 

“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?” 

Yeah, my future, he thought. 

“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -” 

“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted. 

His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation. 

“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth. 

“Someone was just here looking for you.” 

Hope started hammering in his chest. 

“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.” 

“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick. 

“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.” 

Now he really was going to throw up. 

They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night? 

Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning. 

“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side. 

“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.” 

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with rapt anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell. 

**Nine Months Later**

For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine didn't make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months. 

It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books. 

Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory. 

After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up. 

“I don’t know his last name, Roge.” 

“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team. 

“I think it’s hopeless,” she said. 

“Hold on, there’s another one.”

“Another what?” 

“Another team.” 

“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face. 

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it. 

“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess. 

“Look him up on Insta.” 

So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers. 

She messaged him, hoping. 

Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder. 

He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life. 

Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight. 

Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest. 

The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it. 

She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2. 

Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting. 

Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before. 

As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be. 

Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks. 

“Matthew?” 

His head shot up. 

A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it. 

His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer. 

Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green? 

He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight. 

The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life. 

“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.

Sam shot him a questioning look.  

He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot. 

His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was. 

“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”

Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed. 

Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.

Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?” 

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.

The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.” 

She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.” 

“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”

“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”

Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.

“Last name?” he asked. 

He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.” 

Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name. 

“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood. 

Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true. 

She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if  her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him. 

“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.” 

“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit. 

Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work. 

“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision. 

She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well. 

“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?” 

Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.

“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen. 

Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.” 

She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more. 

Josh stayed where he was. 

“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?” 

Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long. 

They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked. 

Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?” 

She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?

“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.” 

“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”

“And you know Raul…”

“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.” 

Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out. 

Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right? 

Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.

“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.” 

She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open. 

She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else. 

Matthew was the last at the table. 

“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her. 

“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?” 

Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away. 

“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?” 

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate. 

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?” 

“Eight,” he said. 

He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him. 

“All for here?” 

“For here?”

“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”

“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.” 

They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew. 

“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded. 

“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.

Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice. 

“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at. 

“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal. 

People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?” 

“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left. 

Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation. 

“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car. 

“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?” 

“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears. 

Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?” 

His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud. 

Both guys just waited. 

“But the club caught fire.” 

“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”

“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…” 

“Fucked it?” Benny asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’” 

“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said. 

Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.” 

“Why not?” 

“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.” 

A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams. 

“Uh, hello?” someone asked. 

She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring. 

“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor. 

“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?” 

It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him. 

She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down. 

“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said. 

She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results. 

Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.

Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes. 

Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?” 

“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.  

“I guess so.” 

“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”

“Oh.” 

“Why?” 

“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”

“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.” 

Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?

She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer. 

“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said. 

Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside. 

“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.” 

“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.” 

“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.” 

That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.” 

He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.” 

Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was. 

“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?

“Do you think there’s still something there?” 

“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.” 

“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”

“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.” 

“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”

She nodded.

“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed. 

“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked. 

“If he came in here himself?”

He nodded. 

“I’d at least give him a chance.” 

Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.  

They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week. 

“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before then.” 

She giggled. 

He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things. 

The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”

“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”

He scoffed. 

“I told her you still like her -”

“You what?!”

“She brought you up first, and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I'm ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”

“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.

Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.” 

Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?” 

“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”

 A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.

“I knew it! You still like her too!”

What’s not to like? Matthew thought.

“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.” 

Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced. 

“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.” 

Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.

He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her. 

“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly. 

“Hey Jessie.”

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment. 

“Can I help you with something?” 

“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”

“They are.”

“I just came to pick those up.” 

“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him. 

She looked instantly downcast. 

To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.

“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture. 

“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important. 

“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.

Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”

She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”

“I was.”

One of her eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”

She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”

Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.” 

“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them. 

“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.” 

He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.” 

His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?” 

She nodded. 

Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them. 

Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.

“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”

As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.

“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?” 

She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.

“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.” 

Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.  

“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said. 

His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.” 

“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.” 

“So what do we do?”

She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.” 

She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?” 

“Right. Yeah, okay.” 

She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes. 

Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this? 

“Everything going okay in there?” she asked. 

“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?” 

Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.

Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants. 

“That’s not fair,” she said. 

“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.

“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again. 

“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.

“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.” 

She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it. 

“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps. 

“Only when I think you might come in.” 

His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning. 

“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”

“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.

“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra. 

Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs. 

His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans. 

He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.” 

“Can you define that a little more?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like you don't want oral sex, or…” 

She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it. 

“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.” 

“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink. 

God, maybe they really were made for each other. 

As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast. 

She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.

It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing. 

Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both. 

It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close. 

Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him. 

This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other. 

When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together. 

Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft. 

Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs. 

Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.

That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers. 

There was the passion she’d been looking for. 

As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs. 

Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him. 

Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough. 

Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.” 

He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again. 

Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too. 

When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” 

She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.

His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused. 

“Please,” she whimpered. 

He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone. 

The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs. 

He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles. 

Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her. 

His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living sculpture in the Greek wing of the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body. 

Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” 

“Okay.” 

She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin. 

Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t want him to. 

His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure. 

“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning. 

“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing. 

“What do you need?” 

“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.” 

He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched. 

He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust. 

“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps. 

He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.

Body shaking, she cried out. 

Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.

Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm.

As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her. 

“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.” 

Laughter barked out of his mouth.

When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times. 

His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”

“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.

“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.” 

“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?” 

“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”

That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.

“Can I taste you?” 

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.

“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”

Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.

“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool. 

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room. 

“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.

God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed. 

Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.” 

She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere. 

Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to. 

He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.

“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.

When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling. 

“Okay?” she asked again. 

“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in. 

Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation. 

 God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving. 

Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.

His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”

He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another. 

A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot. 

Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.

When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright. 

Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath. 

As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.” 

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.” 

Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates. 

A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more. 

She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.” 

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept. 

“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft. 

Oh God.

“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already. 

“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him. 

With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better. 

“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.” 

She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one. 

“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”

The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak. 

Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”

Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint. 

“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth. 

Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place. 

“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect? 

She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan. 

She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.

“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. 

He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close. 

A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed. 

“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!” 

“When’s your flight?”

“In an hour, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”

They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again. 

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face. 

He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget. 

“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”

He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room. 

“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.” 

“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”

She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”

They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home. 

He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up. 

He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.

“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled. 

Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark. 

Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed. 

Matthew nodded. 

He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief. 

“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”

Matthew laughed. 

When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date. 

I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for. 

Fanciction Masterlist

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk smut #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk one shot #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #hockey romance #hockey fic #hockey smut

[thisphantomlife]

Songs Hozier has covered

Bowie - Changes, Young Americans (see also Trinity Orchestra section)

Prince - I Wanna Be Your Lover, Raspberry Beret, Jungle Love

James Carr - The Dark End Of The Street

The Beatles - Blackbird

John Lennon (Donny Hathaway version) - Jealous Guy (at the goldenplec block party with Zaska)

Ariana Grande - Problem

Warren G - Regulate (mashup with Problem)

James Blake - Retrograde

Tom Waits - Strange Weather

Florence and the Machine - Cosmic Love

Stevie Wonder - Living for the City, As

Sting - 7 Days

The BeeGees - To Love Somebody

Lauryn Hill - Doo Wop (that thing)

Amerie - One Thing

Skip James - Illinois Blues

Muddy Waters - Catfish Blues

Van Morrison - Caravan, Sweet Thing, Domino, Brown Eyed Girl, Saint Dominic’s Preview

Bill Withers - Ain’t No Sunshine

Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know

Demi Lovato - Sorry Not Sorry

Led Zeppelin - Whole Lotta Love

Fun - We Are Young

Paul Simon - Bridge Over Troubled Water

Sam Smith - Lay Me Down

Destiny’s Child - Say My Name

Britney Spears - Toxic (snippet)

The Band - The Weight

Otis Rush version of Willie Dixon and the Big Three Trio - My Love Will Never Die

The Talking Heads - Burning Down the House (Instagram live messing around with friends)

The Staple Singers - Let’s Do it Again

The Weather Forecast 🤪

Ed Lewis - I Be So Glad When the Sun Goes Down (Instagram snippet)

Mavis Staples - Eyes on the Prize

Jackie Wilson - (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher

The Meters - Just Kissed My Baby

Christmas Songs - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Winter Wonderland, Santa Claus is Coming to Town (with others at the Xmas Eve Ball 2015)

Traditional Irish songs - My Lagan Love, The Humours of Whiskey, I Am Stretched On Your Grave, The Rolling Wave (on the low whistle), The Parting Glass, The Lonely Jig (on the low whistle)

(Live) Collabs - that are not Andrew’s own songs

Alvin Youngblood Hart - Illinois Blues

Maren Morris - The Bones, My Church, Girl, The Tree

Annie Lennox - I Put a Spell on You (Screamin Jay Hawkins cover)

Tom Odell - Another Love

Noah Kahan - Northern Attitude

Allison Russell - Requiem, Stop Dragging My Heart Around (Stevie Nicks & Tom Petty cover)

Brandi Carlile - The Joke, Walk On (U2 cover), The Weight (The Band cover)

Jamala - Walk On (U2 cover)

Mavis Staples - The Weight (The Band cover), Keep Your Eyes on the Prize (with Our Native Daughters, Jason Isbell and Phil Cook)

Boygenius - Salt in the Wound

Alana Henderson - Ae Fond Kiss (poem by Robert Burns)

U2 - When Love Comes to Town

Tori Kelly - Blackbird (the Beatles cover)

Mumford and Sons - Guiding Light, Awake My Soul, With a Little Help From My Friends (Beatles cover, with other artists)

Lake Street Dive - Everyday People (Sly and the Family Stone cover)

Rachael Price - Rental Love

Victoria Canal - Swan Song

Elwood (his dog) - Don’t Go Breaking My Heart (Elton John and Kiki Dee cover, Insta snippet)

All the artists at Love Rocks NYC 2022 - Like A Rolling Stone (Bob Dylan cover), Feeling Alright (Traffic cover)

Brian Kennedy (and others) - I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free (Nina Simone cover)

His Dad - The Weight (The Band cover at MSG)

Zaska, Wyvern Lingo, Loah - Sir Duke (Stevie Wonder cover)

Eabha McMahon - Bright Blue Rose (Jimmy McCarthy cover)

Christmas Eve Busk 2015

Bono, Glen Hansard - When Love Comes to Town, Every Breaking Wave

Glen Hansard, Imelda May - The Dark End of the Street (James Carr cover)

Christmas Eve Busk 2017

Glen Hansard, Coronas, Imelda May, Liam O Maonlaoi - So This is Christmas (John Lennon cover), The Aul Triangle

Music Groups

Nova Collective - (original songs) Tuile, Closer, Quick Bossa

Zaska - (original songs) In Your Own Sweet Time, Different Light, She Gunk Gunk Dunk A Funk, Oh Yeah

Anuna - with Andrew on lead vocals: The Raid, La Chanson de Mardi Gras. With Andrew in the choir: Jingle Bells, An Uaithne

The Wiggles - Cherry Tree Carol with Anuna

Trinity Orchestra - songs covered with Andrew on lead vocals

~ Queen - Somebody To Love, Don’t Stop Me Now

~ Arcade Fire - My Body is a Cage

~ Pink Floyd - Time, Breathe, Comfortably Numb, Shine on You Crazy Diamond, Money

~ Michael Jackson - Earth Song, Black or White, Smooth Criminal

~ David Bowie - Heroes

*This list may not be complete. It only contains songs that can be found online.

Please let me know if any songs are missing so I can add them 🫶

I’ve not included the songs he sang snippets of on that Song Association interview

#hozier #hozier covers #hozier collabs #list of songs Hozier has covered

[jaxypaxyhaxy]

So I’m gunna word vomit and “I hope somebody is listening” (lol) but I have an idea for a scene that I’m desperately wanting in season 3 that wasn’t even in the books and I can’t stop thinking about it so I need to put it out into the universe.

So I have this idea for a scene in season 3 of heartstopper between Tori and Nick. I imagine it being an early episode where nick and Charlie are having a usual movie night, and then Nick goes to make popcorn and finds Tori in the kitchen getting a glass of diet lemonade. I can imagine Nick getting a bit worried (visible on his face) and he’s nervously asks Tori about the time when Charlie was getting bullied. She gets a bit nervous and hesitant but tells him. I really think this would be an amazing way to incorporate some book elements like some of the things mentioned in solitaire and this winter about Charlies mental health, and an adorable, gut wrenching, heartstopping (get it) Scene. (Ex. Tori talks about the note with a cake on it, how she found him, and how she stayed in the hospital waiting room for 3 days for him)

Tiny details I can visibly imagine in the scene

- Tori wearing a hoodie and playing with her sleeve the same way Charlie did in Paris with Nick after the Louvre 

- Nick cuts of Tori at some point by hugging her (she doesn’t necessarily hug back but she doesn’t reject it at all)

- as Nick is walking to the kitchen he pulls out his phone and looks at some of his notes on EDs like in the book when he’s initially researching them

- if it’s after she’s cut her hair nick says I’m the beginning of the conversation “I like your hair” (Tori could even say smth like “it looks the same like she said to Charlie in S1 (Nick would giggle and just say “we’ll it still looks good” or smth) but it depends on the seasons timeline)

- she mentions the cake note like she did to Lucas ( slightly sounding like she’s joking but crying visibly harder )

- the scene could end with the popcorn being done, Charlie hearing the mictowave beep loudly over and over and coming down to check on Nick, he’s like “what’s up” nick just says it’s nothing (tori slips out quickly to hide that she was crying)

- and just something else I feel like Tori would evolve from hesitant to slightly hysterical as she continues talking ( because she’s never said this out loud to anyone before ) but her volume stays low and doesn’t increase as she continues (voice mostly stable with small cracks and a tad shaky)

- music less scene like the last one in HS s2

@chronicintrovert Idek what this is but I think it would bring a bunch of book details in, as well as be the introduction to what will inevitably be a very very hard and sad season 🥲🥲 (that doesn’t mean I’m not sitting on the edge of my seat excited for it to come out lol)

Alr I’m done rambling thanks for reading if u got this far.

#heartstopper #solitaire #tori and michael #tori spring #alice oseman #heartstopper comic #this winter #charlie spring #nick x charlie #nick nelson #calling all heartstopper fans #heartstopper series #heartstopper season 2 #heartstopper s2 #nick and charlie #victoria spring #micheal holden

[irony158]

Can we talk about Tori real quick. This character is so underrated and her mental health is so over looked . After reading this winter you can see how she takes Blame for Charlie’s mental health struggles . In solitaire you can see how much this take a tole on her when she comes home after the Halloween party she calls Nick she said it’s her fault and through out the book you can see the weight of solitaire , her mother and other factors that damage her . She is my favorite character and I hope in the next season of Heartstopper they show her more and more of her character and her mental health

#solitare #heartstopper #tori spring #nick and charlie #nick nelson #charlie spring #this winter #mental health #character art #watercolor

[hyunpic]

list of songs hyunjin has played on his lives/recommended:

note: im probably missing some & i couldn’t put links to all of them cause apparently tumblr has a link limit 🤨

lauv: julia, lonely eyes, invisible things, paris in the rain, never not, im so tired, the story never ends, i like me better

offonff: photograph, cigarette (ft. miso & tablo), dance, bath

beyoncé: crazy in love (remix)

billie eilish: i love you, &burn, idontwannabeyouanymore, ocean eyes, before i go, tv

honne: day1, la la la that’s how it goes

christina perri: a thousand years

shawn mendes: mercy, treat you better, in my blood

dvwn: phobia

dpr live: jam & butterfly

jehwi: dear moon

leehi: rose

bts: dna, waste it on me, make it right

colde: where love begins, string (ft. sunwoojunga), the museum, wa-r-r, your dog loves you (ft. crush), control me, a song nobody knows, im in love

got7: miracle, hard carry

justin bieber: lonely

josef salvat: call on me

taemin: criminal

night off: sleep

sam kim: make up (ft. crush), like a fool, sunny days summer nights

niki: lowkey

iu: the visitor, lullaby, knees, love poem, give you my heart, my sea

cha ni: starlight

sia: snowman

akmu: happening

sunwoojunga: run with me

the black skirts: everything

korea cracker: ocean (ft. hoyeon kim)

cosmic boy: can i love?

penomeco: no.5 (ft. crush)

yerin baek: blooming memories, limit

10cm: so…., however

day6: i’ll try, love me or leave me, when you love someone, you were beautiful, congratulations, zombie, days gone by, afraid

dean: d (half moon), instagram, what 2 do, bonnie & clyde

exo: first snow, the eve, love shot

sam fischer: this city

jukjae: do you want to walk with me?, lullaby

ph-1: nerdy love (ft. yerin baek), as i told you

baekhyun: love again, un village

amine: blackjack

young k: come as you are, guard you

flume: say it (ft. tove lo)

twice: dance the night away, fancy

ariana grande: thank u, next

hajin: we all lie

about: it has to be you

caroline says: winter is cold

h.e.r: u, wait for it

bol4: to my youth

monday kiz: winter is as i wished

paul kim: the road, additional

sweden laundry: the winter

jung seung hwan: in that winter

chungha: gotta go

zion.t: no make up, snow

airman: gloomy star, i’ll be your spring (ft. j_ust)

motte: dont run away

seventeen: a-teen, super

khalid: location

lukas graham: 7 years

imagine dragons: believer

bo kyung kim: dont think you are alone

jung ilhoon: spoiler (ft. babylon)

davichi: falling in love, 이 사랑

coldplay: everglow, viva la vida

lyn: my destiny

jus2: focus on me, long black, senses (jpn version)

crush: beautiful, you and i

ed sheeran: lego house, perfect, photograph, beautiful people

croosh: why

20 years of age: x

tori kelly: paper hearts

seulgi: always

luna: do you love me? (ft. george)

wisue: someone’s shining

epik high: eternal sunshine

jp saxe: if the world was ending

seori: fairy tale

bruno mars: marry you

the weeknd: earned it, die for you

jung seunghwan: its raining, an ordinary day, dear

sam tinnesz: play with fire

post malone: motley crew

jihyo: stardust love song

kim feel: your voice

sung sikyung: solar system, heejae

younha: stardust

wonpil: a journey

taeyeon: invu, some nights, toddler, drawing our moments

nct dream: boom

ha hyunsang: 3108

huhgak: memory of your scent

se so neon: nan chun, a long dream, midnight train, stranger

umi: remember me

tvxq!: mirotic

johnny balik: honey

red velvet: psycho

new jeans: hype boy

christian kuria: losing you

cigarettes after sex: k.

dpr ian: nerves, no blueberries, 1 shot

samm henshaw: broke

woodz: drowning

kelly clarkson: underneath the tree

kimmuseum: to you who cant sleep

taylor swift: betty

lana del rey: young and beautiful

harry styles: watermelon sugar, she

pink sweat$: honesty

masego: tadow

olivia rodrigo: vampire

troye sivan: youth, for him

kai: mmmh

2pm: my house

oasis - wonderwall

oasis - hey now

mac miller - that’s on me

mac miller - everybody

nothing but thieves - amsterdam

bren joy - sweet

back number - i love you

puma blue - already falling

mac ayres - roses

mac ayres - next to you

bruno major - old soul

#hyunjin song recommendations #<- so i can find it later for updates #i spent like 3 hours writing this and putting the links shdjdndb #maybe anon from yesterday finds this helpful!

[solitaire-addict]

A deep dive into Solitaire, its Characters and Relationships

Solitaire is a deep, complex and entertaining book. Once opened, it becomes very hard to put down and it is the type of book you would read multiple times, listen to the audiobook version, and create a blog fully dedicated to. Solitaire has that kind of seasonal feel like when it snows for the first time and your feet are cold no matter how many blankets you put on or you’re nose keeps running because you’re outside waiting for someone to come pick you up and you’re putting your hands in fists because they might just freeze off. Solitaire isn't romanticized winter, it's the gross parts that make people hate the cold seasons but you still like them because it still has a nice feeling to it, even though it may be the end of you. Personally I have read solitaire in every season but Solitaire can't be beat in January, when everyone is stupid depressed and there isn't a point to living anymore.

 Victoria (Tori) Spring portrays this deep depression and bitter feeling that everyone feels at some point and she is the embodiment of the term “pessimistic complex”. While being a relatable character to everyone, I've found that she really strikes a chord with the Asexual/Aromantic community. In recent events, it has become canon that she is Asexual and most suspect she is on the Aromantic spectrum which seems reasonable due to her behavior around one Micheal Holden. Micheal Holden, who is Tori’s friend and co-investigator in the Solitaire mystery, is (at first glance) an upbeat and strange character. Micheal holds the role of curious, and a bit mysterious and his and Tori’s friendship forms from the fact that they both got curious and did the exact same thing. In many ways, these two are very similar and when thrown together by some force, Tori ignores this and uses some freakish defense mechanism that (to anyone else) would drive away the opposing force, however, Micheal is not an opposing force, or any kind of force for that matter. He’s just a guy who happens to be a little strange and who ice skates and is secretly mad all the time. When Tori and Micheal first interact, Tori does not in any way want to talk to this guy, in fact i bet she would rather have thrown herself out the nearest window than exchange more than two sentences at once. Michel wants to be friends with Tori, so much so that he will not stop showing up out of nowhere even if he doesn't mean to. Keep in mind that Micheal has no friends and Tori has one friend and that isn't even going well.

 Becky (who has been Tori’s best and only friend for quite a while) is popular. Not in the sense that everyone knows her, more so that everyone knows of her and a couple extending details, this leaves her feeling alone in the world and her only support is Tori, who frankly, is not doing well in the slightest. And of course they’re drifting, not quickly but over time, like a call that gets worse in audio quality over time. When Becky seeks support from Tori and wants to share things with her, Tori is disengaged, I'm sure she doesn't mean it but that still sucks when you’re the one who needs to talk. There are many versions of the book and in the first one when Becky tells Tori that she just had sex with her almost boyfriend. Tori is disappointed, she even goes on to say that it made her respect Becky more for being a virgin up until now. Now remember that the first addition of this book was released in the early 2010’s so it's a bit desensitized and there are probably better words to put it other than not respecting her as much anymore but it's still a good example of Tori’s distance and self isolation from the rest of her public life, which brings us back to her relatable self destructive tendencies. 

When with Micheal, Tori continuously keeps him locked out of her life. When Micheal tells her that he wants to be friends, Tori goes on a tangent about how she doesnt know why he wants to be friends and says “i'm not some manically depressed psychopath” and they get into a fight that ends with michael saying “well maybe you are a manically depressed psychopath” and everyone ever is disappointed because Tori cant let people care about her. There's a point where Tori and Micheal finally accept each other as people and decide not to question one another, they both care and they both are okay with that, Micheal is there when Tori needs him and Tori is there when Micheal needs her, it's one of the most beautiful things and their friendship and care for eachother is deep and true and it's my favorite thing in the universe. When Tori is about to get killed by a firework, when she's literally standing on the edge of death, when she's sat at home after Charlie's relapse Micheal Holden is there. Micheals constant anger has noticeably taken a toll on him and he has said “i'm always angry, other emotions just overrule it” he means that Tori’s presence is the emotion that overrules, not in a cheesy love story way but in the way that when you’re having a bad day and then you go home to your bed and take an advil and drink some water, it makes you feel better. Tori is Micheals bed, Advil and water, no matter how cold the bed is, or how gross the Advil is or how unfiltered the water is. She’s still there, overriding the constantly lingering aggravation with himself. When Tori’s about to kill herself, Michael is there to save her, pull her back into reality and even though Tori isn't okay in the slightest afterwards, Micheal is still there, and they still care, even if the water is muddy.

 In between the 4 month gap between Solitaire and Heartstopper, nothing is technically canon on what happens between them but 4 months later Micheal has proposed the idea that they confirm their relationship status as girlfriend and boyfriend and this scared Tori. Not because she doesn't like him in that way, but because she doesn't want him to get bored of her. Along with Tori’s asexuality being confirmed, it's also confirmed that Tori and Micheal had sex and Tori was sent a confirmation email for her ticket for the asexual train. Charlie and Tori’s conversation about this is very touching, Charlie brings up that he once said that if Nick never wanted to have sex with him, he wouldn't want to either and it wouldn't change how he felt about Nick in any way. This is an example of why Asexuals FLOCK to Alice Osemans writing, it focuses on the emotional connection between characters, not the sex and tension between them. Charlie reassures Tori that Micheal will understand and he most definitely will not get bored of her (considering that they canonically stay together for at least like 10 more years) Tori’s fear of a labeled relationship is an important factor within the idea that Tori is on the Aromantic spectrum, as an aromantic person, when a relationship that I’m in is labeled, it stresses me out. It creates this internal fear of commitment and that might be what Tori is experiencing. At the end of the page, Tori and Micheal are shown talking probably about her being asexual. My hopes are that Tori and Michaels relationship remains unlabeled because it's very important that different types of queer relationships are shown in mainstream media, especially ones that aren't labeled or inside queer norms. There's nothing like queer erasure from other queer people.

#solitaire #alice oseman #tori spring #micheal holden #sprolden #heartstopper #charlie spring #nick and charlie #nick nelson #solitaire by alice oseman

[lightbarebunnies]

summary: the kind of gift(s) you receive from your special someone at Ensemble Square! tags: established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive at some points, gn!reader - you/your pronouns characters: the main cast, teachers, and anzu! a/n: I wanted to post something for Valentines, so here's a little headcanon sort of thing! If a character's name is in bold+italics that means I just think that's something they'd definitely do. I see other people do it with these types of post so why not :)

Something to Eat

(Purchased) Chocolates

It’s a classic, right? You’re their valentine, so you’re definitely getting Valentine's Day chocolate - there will be no objections! It’s something they picked out with your tastes in mind, even if you’re not the biggest sweets fan, they want to participate in the holiday festivities with you!

Aira | Chiaki | Eichi | HiMERU | Hinata | Hiyori | Hokuto | Izumi | Jin | Kaoru | Kohaku | Mao | Midori | Ritsu | Shinobu | Sora | Tori | Tsukasa

Something Homemade

Chocolate, cookies, maybe even a cake… or are sweets not your thing? No matter what your tastes are, they wanted to make you something with their own hands! While it might not be as tasty as something bought at the store, they wanted you to taste all the love and effort they wanted to put into this little gift for you!

Adonis | Anzu | Hajime | Hinata | Kuro | Madara | Mika | Natsume | Niki | Shu | Tomoya

Something to Wear

Purchased Jewelry/Clothing

It had caught their eye in the store window one day… and that night, they just couldn’t get it out of their mind. The way the piece would compliment your skin… it was meant to be yours. So they purchased it, made sure to wrap the box with care, so that you knew exactly how much thought went into this gift. The price doesn’t matter - you’re worth whatever it cost, and then some.

Akiomi | Arashi | Eichi | Hiiro | HiMERU | Hiyori | Izumi | Kaoru | Keito | Makoto | Mao | Tetora | Tori | Tsukasa | Yuzuru

Handmade Jewelry/Clothes

It could be a little Kandi Bracelet with beads that match your favorite colors, a knit hat to keep you warm for the rest of the winter, or maybe even an ornate pendant with a tumbled stone picked to specifically match your eyes. No matter what, it was made both with love and you specifically in mind. The joy of gift giving comes from the idea that you’ve gotten a piece of art that exists for no one but you - a little sign of just what you make them feel.

Anzu | Arashi | Hajime | Hokuto | Kuro | Mika | Nazuna | Rinne | Shu | Tomoya | Tsumugi

A Charm

Maybe it’s a bit cheesy, but this isn’t an unexpected gift. You had gotten the initial charm bracelet from them early on in your relationship - each new addition for a milestone or special memory that the two of you have shared. It doesn’t matter if you wear it… the bracelet is like a little memorial to your relationship, a timeline of how the two of you have intertwined together.

Aira | Anzu | Arashi | Hiiro | Hinata | Kanata | Keito | Mayoi | Midori | Natsume | Nazuna | Ritsu | Subaru | Tomoya | Yuzuru

A Piece from Their Own Closet

Is this a lazy, last minutes gift? Oh no, it’s anything but. There’s a sort of satisfaction from seeing you wear something that belonged to them. Maybe they’re a tad possessive, maybe they want you to know that you’re as much a part of their life that they view their own belongings as yours… All they know is that when they see that piece on you, it makes their heart beat a bit faster.

Adonis | Chiaki | Hajime | Hiiro | Izumi | Jin | Jun | Kaoru | Koga | Kuro | Madara | Mao | Mayoi | Mitsuru | Natsume | Rinne | Tetora | Yuta

A Plushie

Purchased

You can’t deny how cute it is… Whenever you’re feeling lonely, be sure to snuggle with your new friend - and imagine your beloved is there with you! Either one of your favorite animals, their pet name for you, or maybe one of your favorite fictional characters… I mean, who wouldn’t love a nui of their oshi, after all?

Akiomi | Aira | Kanata | Leo | Midori | Nazuna | Ritsu | Shinobu | Souma | Tori | Yuta

Won from a Crane Game

It may not be as perfectly tailored to you as something they went out to buy, but… they worked really hard to get you this gift! Taking you out to the arcade, proudly announcing that they won’t stop until that plush is in your arms, where it belongs… plus, you get the fun memory of your little arcade date as a bonus!

Anzu | Chiaki | Hiiro | Hinata | Jun | Kohaku | Makoto | Mitsuru | Natsume | Shinobu | Shu | Sora | Subaru | Tetora

Handmade

Even if it won't be the same quality as the commercial stuff, it's just as sweet! They even included a little embroidery with your initials, so that there's no mistaking that this plush is yours. Every stitch was filled with the love they feel for you - resulting in a plushie that there will never be another one of.

Hajime | Kuro | Mayoi | Mika | Rinne | Shu | Sora | Tori | Tsumugi

An Experience

A Shopping Trip

Giving a gift can be hard… and they’re the type who wants to give you something you’ll 100% want and use… so- they’re taking you out! Maybe it’s to buy an outfit that you get to pick out, or just a whole date where they’re spoiling you with everything you wind up being interested in… either way, they’re going out with you to buy you your gift this year.

Akiomi | Arashi | Chiaki | Eichi | HiMERU | Hiyori | Ibara | Izumi | Keito | Makoto | Mao | Mika | Mitsuru | Nagisa | Rei | Tori | Tsukasa

A Special Dinner

The way to someone’s heart is through their stomach… but why stop at chocolates? Either at your favorite restaurant, the most exclusive place in town, or a personal and private home cooked meal between the two of you… They’re the type who wants to give you something special, a memory to look back on even after Valentine’s Day is over, and maybe the start of a tradition for the two of you.

Adonis | Akiomi | Eichi | Hiyori | Ibara | Izumi | Kaoru | Keito | Leo | Nagisa | Niki | Tatsumi | Tsukasa | Wataru | Yuzuru

A Couple's Class

You're going to try something new together! It could be learning to cook a brand-new dish together, making some sort of pottery, or maybe painting something. Not only do the two of you get to experience something special, but you get to take something with you to remember the special day by.

Anzu | Keito | Kohaku | Madara | Makoto | Mao | Mika | Mitsuru | Nagisa | Natsume | Rei | Rinne | Shu | Sora | Subaru | Tatsumi | Tomoya | Tsumugi | Yuzuru

A Trip to Somewhere Special

From the Art Gallery to the Amusement Park, you're going to be going on a special date at a place that the two of you will love. Looking at jellyfish at the Aquarium, attending the symphony, petting bunnies at the Zoo's petting zoo, or checking out the brand new archeological exhibit at the Museum… no matter what it is, it’s something to make your eyes light up and so they can see that perfect smile of yours.

Chiaki | Kanata | Kaoru | Koga | Leo | Madara | Makoto | Mitsuru | Nagisa | Natsume | Nazuna | Rinne | Shinobu | Souma | Subaru | Tetora | Tomoya | Wataru

#ensemble stars #ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #enstars #.hyacinth writes #akiomi x reader #jin x reader #anzu x reader #valkyrie x reader #ra*bits x reader #undead x reader #ryuseitai x reader #akatsuki x reader #trickstar x reader #double face x reader #mam x reader #knights x reader #eden x reader #switch x reader #crazy:b x reader #fine x reader #alkaloid x reader #2wink x reader #ok thats all im going to tag i am very sorry o7

[idontplaytrack]

all the things that could go wrong

Janis ‘Imi’ike x physically disabled fem!reader

Warnings: pet/nicknames, internalised homophobia, arguing, mentions/descriptions of violence, mentions of reader’s disability, mentions of alcohol consumption…(rollercoaster of emotions incoming)

In which lol I don’t know how to summarise this. except: “If this is the happiest I've ever been, why do I feel so afraid of it?”

“Y/N!” Janis screamed, chasing you.

You only ran further, as fast as your feet could carry you. “Y/N, stop!”

You knew your efforts were futile when you felt her grip on your wrist. Of course she’d catch up to you. What were you thinking? Showing up at her door?

“I’m sorry, Janis.” You gave up running, “I don’t know what came over to me but here I am, at your door.”

She looked at you, very confused- it was as though you had posed her with the toughest question ever. “What…?”

You knew why- she asked you to come over to have a night in, but instead that plan just unraveled. She kissed you, and things got a little handsy, but you simply couldn't get past the mental hurdle of being with a girl. “If this is the happiest I’ve ever been, why do I feel so afraid of it?”

Age 7, you thought Tori Vega was really pretty. But also thought that Beck Oliver was cute. You didn't tell anyone and let that be your little secret.

Age 9, you let that slip. You told a friend and she called you a weirdo for liking both a guy and a girl. That same year, the friend Mabel mentioned it at your birthday party and everyone heard it. They laughed it off, saying that your friend was just joking. But it wasn't a joke, and your Mom told you it was wrong and you took it to heart.

Age 10, you found yourself having crazy swarms of butterflies in your stomach whenever this girl in your class talked to you. Her name was Dawn, and she was your only friend for the next few years because ever since your party a year ago, Mabel made sure to tell everyone your little secret. And no one wanted to be your friend anymore. You were lucky to have Dawn. You didn't tell her about the butterflies, though.

Age 14, High school started. You moved to Illinois, and said goodbye to Dawn. She was sad to see you leave, but promised to talk to you everyday. At North Shore High, you met Janis- and her best friend Damian, who almost immediately took you in to join them. You became a part of their trio. While the school feared her, calling her a threat to students' safety, you did not. She was nice to you and you felt safe and protected. Life seemed pretty good. Until summer rolled around, and you started spending more time with Janis. The butterflies in your stomach made their presence known, and very aggressively. You were falling for your best friend, fast and hard.

Age 15, Sophomore year began and Damian notices the closeness. However, you didn't know that and neither did Janis. He also didn't say a thing, not wanting to assume, nor interfere. Life went on as usual, except your crush on Janis kept growing with each day. Over thanksgiving break, you had your wisdom teeth removed. All four of them were impacted, so they had you go under and get them removed. Janis came by to spend time with you every single day for two weeks- much to your mother’s dismay. But Janis knew she wouldn’t say a thing, because your mother was also afraid of Janis. She could see her protectiveness over you. (She’s also heard of the bunsen burner incident)

Age 16, Janis asks you out to the Winter Ball. You agreed, it was a lot of fun- she made you laugh until you cried. Lingering touches, holding your hand, her hand on your shoulder, her hands squeezing your cheek as she said, ‘you’re adorable’. You laughed it off, looking away as you blushed. She teases you for it. But you know she meant it not in a negative way. Christmas, your parents were out of town and Janis invites you and Damian over for Christmas dinner. Damian hung out for awhile then went home, you spent the night. You two sat in her bed watching Home Alone, which you completely forgot about when you feel her hand on your thigh, traveling upwards on your side to your face. Janis leans in dangerously close and the two of you nearly kiss. The night ended awkwardly after you told her you couldn’t do it, with Janis feeling disappointed and you feeling conflicted.

Age 17, when the clock struck midnight, signaling the start of a new year, Janis was standing before you, holding your hands in her own. As fireworks went off in the distance, she captures your lips into her own. With the help of a drink or two in each of you. ‘Happy birthday’, she says, ‘and happy new year, y/n.’ And her lips were quickly back on yours, what felt like fireworks went off in your chest, making its way down your spine. This was your new little secret- this kiss you shared. It was like a dream come true, little you would always dream of experiencing one day but then learnt it was impossible because of what people around you all said. But Janis, she made the world seem fine. Then, Regina George’s Burn Book joined the mix along with a certain redhead by the name of Cady Heron. That new year concluded tumultuously - every one got mean. The book called Damian ‘almost too gay to function’, Janis a ‘pyro lez’, and you ‘the queer one to fear’. Along with a picture of you and Janis kissing at new years, two photos of you kissing a fellow cast-mate in two separate school plays. When everything blew over, Cady flirted with Janis which left a sour taste in your mouth. You were jealous, but you didn’t say a thing. You couldn’t. Janis did- rejecting her, telling her she had her eyes on someone else. You were hoping she meant you.

Age 18, Janis couldn’t care less about whatever shit went down in school. It was you and Damian with her, against the world. It was your birthday and she took you to the park for a quiet picnic, handing you a small bouquet of beautiful roses. She confessed. You do the same, both a rambling mess. Pushing aside the feelings of disgust you had for yourself for feeling this way, for being in love with a girl. Until you couldn’t. On this warm spring day, the heat made you feel like it was burning you to a crisp, coupled with the strong emotions you were feeling…

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, in the spur of the moment her words flew out harshly, piercing your ears and your heart. You couldn’t say anything now, with that painful lump in your throat, your anxiety causing the skin all over your body to feel as though it was being pricked, or burned. You squirmed uncomfortably both at the anxiety-induced skin burning sensation, and for Janis to free you from her grip. You knew she didn’t mean it. She’d never lay a hand on you, she’s never done that ever. You wanted to snap her out of it, to tell her it was you that she was talking to. But you couldn’t, all you could manage were pathetic little cries that quickly turned into sobs before your knees buckled and you fell like a child in Janis’ front yard. The thud snaps her out of it, everything you said. Everything you’ve ever said, or not. Everything you’ve ever done, or haven’t. They all rushed through her mind, giving her a slideshow that allowed her to understand just what it was that was causing this…meltdown.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me…I get it. I get it…that internalised homophobia you’re dealing with, because of what people around you taught you growing up.” She sits down with you on the prickly grass. She cups your cheeks, wiping the tears away. “You’ll be okay with time, be gentle with yourself. It’s okay to do what you want, feel what you feel, love who you love. You are your own person. You are not your Mother, not your old friend Mabel, you are not those little fuckers at school talking about people behind their backs.” She spoke, a small sigh at the end.

You could only sniffle, as you looked her in the eye. Her gaze was soft, and loving. A complete three-sixty from the fierce, intimidating gaze she shows the world. The one she shows to the jocks who made fun of you, for your height, for your weight, for having a limp, for having scars from surgeries that improved your mobility…your life. Strangers.

Janis continued to speak, “I love you, and you know that. But I want you to remember that, and I won’t stop reminding you until one day. That all goes away, what’s in your head- that voice…it will become so small one day it was sound like nothing. And what matters is…we have each other. To conquer whatever comes our way, wherever life takes us. Because, baby…you are the strongest person I’ve ever known in my entire life. And that will never change.”

Upon hearing her words, your natural reaction was to cry harder. Her whole frame shook as she took you into her arms. Janis’ head whipped around, looking at a concern neighbour. “She’s okay, Mrs. Alvarez. We’re just having a moment.” The woman says an ‘okay’ and was on her way.

“You’re okay, hmm?” Her hands held the side of your head against her chest, her head resting on your own. You hear her sniffle. “You’re okay. We’re okay. Everything’s okay, baby.”

She stayed with you in this position until you’d fully calmed down, swatting away anything insects or even butterflies that you were afraid of. “Okay, you ready to get up, lovey?” She asks you softly, breaking away from the embrace slowly just in case you didn’t want to get up. Because…let’s face it- she’d sit here with you all day if you wanted to. That was Janis for you. Your Janis. She’d give you the world if you wanted it…

“Yeah.” You managed to tell her shakily, “Yeah.” Finally pulling away from her chest, you were met with her face, tear streaks on her cheeks and watery eyes. She’d cried. And she didn’t hide it. Something she’s never done before. Janis contemplated between holding out her hands so she could pull you up, and letting you stand up on your own. She chose the latter, then wrapped her arms around you again, smooching you on the cheek. “Okay?” She watched you cautiously. “Mhm.” You sniffed, the phlegm in your throat causing a coughing fit after you spoke that nearly made you retch. She rubs your back, “Let’s go get you a drink.”

You were back in her house. She leads to you kitchen and sat you down at the table, opening the fridge door so you could see the drink choices. You shook your head. “How about some tea, then? Would you like that?” She suggested, shutting the door. Janis then walked over to her pantry and pulled out a bunch of different little boxes that contained a variety of different teas. It looked a little comical, her holding them all in her arms then putting them on the table for you. You chuckled, then smiled. Then she smiled, relieved to see that after the literal buckets of tears you’d wept outside. You looked at your options and soon picked one out, picking up the green Lipton box and handed it to her. Janis took it from you and placed it on the kitchen counter, proceeding to fill the electric kettle with some water to boil. Then, she got out your favourite mug. While waiting, she returned the other boxes of tea bags to the pantry before sitting with you once again.

“Janis, I- I don’t know what to say except…thank you.” You told her quietly, licking your dry lips but unwillingly tasting the salty tears along with the action. You swallow thickly, avoiding her gaze. Janis’ hand found its way to yours and gave it a squeeze- she didn’t need to say a thing for you to know what it meant. “I love you.” You told her later when you were up in her room. Her face lit up with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen from her. “I love you, so much.” You said again.

That one letter word before the two meant the world to Janis. It was a step toward the right direction for you, and she was so, so happy to hear it.

“I love you, too, sweet girl.”

#lgbtqia #wlw #queer #mean girls 2024 #auli’i cravalho #janis ‘imi’ike #wlw fanfic #x reader #female reader #reader insert #Spotify #disabled reader #cady heron #damian hubbard

[blonde-tori-spring555]

what are some of your heartstopper head canons!!??

here are a few

-michael and nick started to come on the spring family holiday to spain

-the spring family go to spain about once or twice (or maybe more) a year

-once tori was and adult she stopped showing up for family christmas (eve) (that happens in 'this winter')

-but would come back maybe a day or so after christmas (once her family was leaving)

-charlie kept coming until he moved out

-(when their family would say things about tori when she wasnt there charlie or ollie would always tell her)

-darcy comes to all taras dance shows (i feel like this is kinda canon tho) -(probs mentioned this before) tori did dance as a kid maybe like from 2-13 so she only stopped 'recently' from when we first meet her (maybe charlie did it too idk) -tori is flexable and so is charlie

-tori, charlie and ollie r theatre kids (nick and michael too)

-sarah always wanted a daughter, and she ended up getting 'close' with tori and when nick and charlie got married she realised she had her daughter (soz this is so cringe)

-when tori and michael move in together it becomes one of ollies favorite hangout spots and tori and micael try make it a safe place for him

-tori ends up meeting frances and carys through raine (from becky, 'party girls') and they end up being good friends

sorry i rlly started to rant, lmk if yall want more :)

#osemanverse #tori spring #alice oseman #heartstopper #solitaire #solitaire alice oseman #radio silence #asks #charlie spring #oliver spring #nick nelson #michael holden

[thoroughfvre]

i'm finally free until january fourth which means i should be around to write more and get to overdue dms ! i'm gonna get to current drafts gradually but here's a wishlist in case anyone wants to indulge me and my brain babies . . . please like this if you're interested and i'll get to you by the end of the week !

wanted concepts :

anything winter / christmas / new years eve . . . i need to get in the holiday spirit asap

maybe a mumu where there are workers and tourists at a ski resort or tourist-y town ??

strangers who share a nye midnight kiss and can't leave each other alone after

gen v inspired things / a mumu . . . i would prefer to play ocs but canons are welcome !

supernatural vibes ( as in creatures — not the show suhjskdij ) . . . can be serious or a little silly and goofy

road trip - esque plots ( i.e. our muses were road - tripping solo , met each other at a rest stop / gas station and decided to finish the trip together or two young adults / lovers / friends / siblings who don't feel like they fit in anywhere and decide to find their place in the world )

always a sl*t for fake dating or enemies to lovers

a costar for my actor muse . . . can go a million different ways

muses for any of my artsy babies ( i have a bunch of them ! )

battle of the bands . . . rival bands . . . musician things . . .

really anything from this tag .

muses i want to use asap :

apollo ortiz : small town guy who was a superstar in his prime , star baseball player , nearly drafted to the mlb but got injured and had to return home . currently teaches local high school / kiddie leagues and has a lot of anger in his heart . fc: jan luis castellanos .

adonis ' doni ' laurent : rich kid who grew up with shady parents who sheltered him from anyone and anything they didn't approve of . currently an actor ( can be aspiring or a - list depending on plot ) and has a bad habit of being dishonest . fc : harris dickinson .

victoria ' tori ' cabrera : my angel baby . . . my number one . . . i can never have too many plots with her . fashion intern , fashion student or stylist intern ( depends on plot ) with major mommy issues . a little spitfire who craves affection but has no idea what to do with it when she gets it . fc : nailea devora .

devon rhodes : an eccentric part - time art teacher and part - time art shop owner with a heart of gold . has no filter , lets whatever pops in her head fly out of her mouth or puts it into her art . still a bit new to me but i'm dying to write her . fc : taylor russell .

margot dai : very new . still fleshing her out . but a major aesthete who works in a florist shop and may even dabble in wedding planning . loves pretty things and watching them grow . would love to flesh her out with someone ! fc : havana rose liu .

malachi barone : very new x2 . i know very little about this man except that he's essentially a hermit , tends to come off as a bit pretentious and has an extensive knowledge of art as a curator . dying to write him and sort him out . fc : jeremy allen white .

#friendly reminder that i DO prefer to write on discord but tumblr is also fine . . . esp if ur giving me something from this list SIJKDD #indie rp #discord rp #rpc #1x1 rp #indie bi rp #*wishlist #pls be sure to read my rules !

[punsmaster69]

23/DEC/20XX

outside, i've been watching a giant snowman form over the course of the morning.

it started with papyrus rolling around a massive ball of snow, then tori began one beside him.

flowey motioned something, and they started combining efforts to make a really big snowman.

frisk has been inside, watching this with me.

"you don't wanna go out in the snow with everyone?"

they flopped over backwards onto the couch.

"Nah."

"why not?"

"Tired."

"Why don't you?"

"tired."

"What kept you up?"

"nothin' in particular. just kept waking up randomly."

"Even skeletons get that?"

"yeah? 'course we do."

"Bummer."

"what kept you up?"

"Random thoughts."

"like what?"

"Hmmm..."

pondering it for a minute, frisk's brows furrowed as they settled on a thought.

"Asgore's soap dispenser."

"...what??"

"He got, like, a snowman one for winter, right?"

"It's got white soap in it."

"Peppermint scented."

"Smells good."

"yeah?"

"Yeah. Anyways."

"After being used for a while, the soap is almost gone now."

"So he can just refill it, right?"

"However, the only soap refill he has in his cabinet is honey scented."

"do you not like that one?"

"I do. But the honey scented soap is 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸."

"There's gonna be yellow soap in the snowman."

"......."

"and this kept you up last night?"

"Not JUST that, but partly."

"pffftt."

"you're a doofus."

"You called me that yesterday."

"it's still true today."

"Come up with something else."

"ok. you're a 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳."

"That's (yawn) ..okay."

"just okay, huh?"

"got a different name to call you in mind?"

"....."

"kid?"

"oh."

"you'll ruin your schedule if you sleep now, y'know."

"...."

"hey, i'm down to ruin mine too."

——

the snowman's as tall as tori herself. they've wrapped it in a nice scarf and everything.

now paps and tori are helping flowey make a smaller snowman to be friends with the big one.

——

"hey. kiddo."

sandwich (ingredients stolen from our kitchen) in one hand, and a glass of milk in the other, they spun around.

"they're makin' mini snowmen without you out there."

"Whaatt?"

"still too tired to go out?"

"No. I wanna make mini snowmenn!!"

shoving down the rest of the sandwich and chugging their milk, frisk quickly got their coat and gloves on.

they tore open the door.

"wait."

"boots."

"What?"

"unless you 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 to walk in the snow with only socks on."

"OH!"

immediately hopping into their boots,

"Okaythankyoubye!!"

frisk darted out the door.

waving with both arms, frisk met everyone else outside and instantly joined the creation of more mini-snowmen.

——

i swear i only closed my eyes for maybe no more than an hour and it became a mini-snow army.

maybe it's a family?

there's just a lot of 'em.

reminds me of nesting dolls when they're lined up by size.

——

spent a while watching them make mounds of snow, but it only just now clicked that it's a snow table and seats they've created.

——

flowey sacrificed the mini-snowmen for a snowball fight with frisk.

started as an accident, turned into a strategy.

——

came outside and laid in the snow with everyone to look at the stars.

hard to believe it's gyftmas eve tomorrow.

...at the time of writing, i guess it technically is now.

time feels like it's flying by lately. papyrus swears it's slowed to a crawl as we near christmas itself, though.

#undertale #journal #sans #frisk #papyrus #flowey #toriel #sans and frisk #frisk and sans