#breezy bright | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kryptonitejelly · 4 months

Note

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as you easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fic #art donaldson fanfic #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson x female reader #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers imagine #not cm #not tg

2K notes · View notes

kaiijo · 2 months

Text

SUPER-GLUED JAR PRANK — [WIND BREAKER]

characters: sakura haruka, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, togame jo content: gn! reader, a (very old) tiktok prank notes: they’re so silly, i love them

sakura haruka ✶

in hindsight, you should have known giving sakura the super-glued jar might not have been your best idea but his bright pink face paired with an inevitable tirade were too good to pass up. you can’t take all the credit for it — kotoha played a role too, supplying you with a nearly-empty jar of sprinkles and some acting.

your boyfriend is sitting with nirei and suo when you emerge from cafe potus’s pantry with the jar. she feigns disappointment when she asks, “any luck?”

“no,” you say, shaking the jar in your hand for effect.

“it’s such a waste to just let all that stuff sit at the bottom.”

you turn to sakura and asks, “can you try opening it, sweetheart?”

sakura’s face flushes at the pet name, which makes his friends giggle, and he takes the jar from you. with each attempt his make, sakura scowls more and more, huffing as he sets it down. nirei suggests that he tap the lid against the edge of the table but sakura uses just a bit too much force and the glass breaks. you gasp and the trio at the table jumps back with fast reflexes.

kotoha’s already running to grab a broom and dustpan and you’re reaching down to pick up the big pieces. sakura’s hand closes around your wrist before you can and he says, “are you crazy? you could hurt yourself, let me do it.”

“no one touch it,” kotoha orders as she sweeps the shards up. nirei is apologizing profusely and sakura mutters an apology, complaining about how he almost had it and how they shouldn’t make jars that sealed that tight. when you come clean to him about gluing the lid, he’s huffing and puffing at you, and you make it up to him with a lot of food and a lot of kisses and cuddles in private.

umemiya hajime ✶

you find umemiya on the roof of furin high, tending to his garden. your heart swells as you hear him coo at his plants, carefully and lovingly watering them. you almost feel bad about this little prank. almost, but you remember the prank he pulled last week with that fake rubber bug in your lunch so you don’t feel too bad.

you thank every star in the sky that sugishita’s not here at the moment because you’re pretty sure this prank would be the last thing you’d get to do if he was. “hajime?” you call to him.

his head immediately swerves to look at you and his smile is as bright as ever as he set down the water can and makes his way over. he presses a loud, messy kiss against your cheek, and you don’t even have to ask umemiya; he notices the jar in your hand and says, “i can help you open that!”

“thanks,” you say and he takes the jar from you.

he’s beaming when he replies with a breezy “no problem, baby!” and firmly grips the lid, giving it a firm twist. his smile dims a little and he tries again with no luck. umemiya squares his feet and gives it another go, and you can’t deny that seeing his arms bulge with exertion against the sleeves of his white t-shirt is in any way unpleasant.

he slides on his gardening gloves and tries again. the lid doesn’t budge and umemiya is pouting at the jar and mumbling, “i’ll be right back.” he disappears into the school for about twenty minutes. he comes back with a look of defeat, shoulders slumping. “i can’t help you,” he says. “i’m really sorry.”

oh my god, you feel your stomach twist in sympathy and you answer, “i know. i’m really sorry, haji, it’s because i super-glued the lid.”

he blinks once, twice, and then his smile is back on his face. he wipes some sweat off his brow and sighs in relief, “phew! i thought i’d totally lost my strength there for second!” you can’t help but stare at him as he grins, outshining the sun. what did you do to deserve this angel?

hiragi toma ✶

you walk into your living room, where hiragi is setting up a movie for the two of you to watch. “any movie in mind?” he asks as he leans back in the couch, remote in hand.

“howl’s moving castle?”

“again? we watched that last weekend too.”

you grin at him. “it’s not my fault howl’s so cute.”

your boyfriend rolls his eyes, grumbling, “he’s not that cute. and he’s not real.” before you can argue, hiragi motions at the jar in your hand.

“can you help me open it?” you ask him, holding it out to him.

he eyes it suspiciously. “you hate pickles.”

“i want to try them again.”

“but why buy an entire jar if you want to just—”

“can you please just open it? help me start this new journey in my life?” he still looks confused but, ever the dutiful boyfriend, takes it from your hand.

one attempt. two, then three. by the fourth, you feel a giggle threatening to burst forth but the familiar sound of the air pressure releasing has your jaw dropping. hiragi doesn’t take the lid off entirely, letting it sit on top as he hands it back to you. he takes in your awed expression with a frown. “is everything okay?” he’s already reaching for his stomach tablets.

“i super-glued this,” you say, still a little starstruck. “like, with a lot of glue. you weren’t supposed to be able to open it.”

you show him the lid and as he swallows down the pill. he sighs, “you’re going to be the death of me.”

togame jo ✶

“these looks so good!” tomiyama says, marveling at the spread of sandwiches and snacks you had brought to the park. he had been the one to propose a shishitoren picnic, though togame was the one who had pared it down to just a couple of people to make it more manageable.

“thanks! help yourselves!” you reply, watching on with a small smile as the boys dug into the food you had prepared. you lean against togame, who rests his chin on your shoulder.

he leans forward for a sandwich, handing you one as well. it’s your favorite variety of the ones you made and you’re thrilled that your boyfriend remembered that. as you take a bite, you figure this the perfect time to execute your plan. you reach into your own bag, pulling out a nearly-finished jar of chili oil. you nudge togame. “you think you can help me open this? i tried all morning.”

“sure,” he says, gently lifting it from your grasp. his arms are still around you as he makes his first attempt and you feel the quick breath he exhales as he tries again. he eventually untangles himself from you, eyebrows furrowing. “shit,” he says, “i don’t know if i can.”

tomiyama makes grabbing hands at it. “let me try!” togame hands it over to his friend and tomiyama tries a couple of times, pouting when he can’t open it either. he hands it over to sako, who glowers when he fails too. the jar gets passed between the shishitoren members present and each one is unsuccessful. the last guy hands it back to you and togame sighs, “sorry we couldn’t help, baby.”

as everyone else apologizes to, you feel a little bashful as you admit to gluing it. you’re relieved when they take it in good stride, letting out relieved cries and playfully protest. you pull out another jar of the same chili oil, this one totally super-glue-free and give it to those who want it as a peace offering. as the group settles into a nice rhythm, you lean back against togame and his head finds its place in the crook of your neck again.

#wind breaker x reader #sakura haruka x reader #sakura x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya x reader #hiragi toma x reader #hiragi x reader #togame jo x reader #togame x reader #wind breaker scenarios #wind breaker imagines #wbk x reader

704 notes · View notes

astrocafecoffee · 11 days

Text

How to groom yourself based on your rising sign …?? 💫

✨ FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY, ENJOY ✨

~~~~~~~~~~~~~💖💖~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💖 MASTERLIST

💖 HERA PERSONA CHART

💖 BORN PERSONA CHART

💖 CAREER OF YOUR FS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~💖💖~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note : inspired by ANITA SIRENE YouTube post. I included some of her points here. Rest is mine.

Aries ascendant ❣️

Hello Aries rising babies.. let's go !

Hair: Go bold or go home! Try a fiery red hair color (even if it's just a temporary pop of color) and style those locks with some serious attitude. Think choppy layers or a sleek, angular bob that frames that gorgeous face of yours.

Face: Emphasize that natural glow with a lightweight foundation and a subtle highlighter on your cheekbones, nose, and cupid's bow. Make those eyes pop with bold eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. And don't forget to groom those brows - angular and framed is the way to go!

Makeup: Lip color? Go bold red or coral! Blush? Subtle peachy or pink shade. You got this!

Style: Edgy, statement pieces are your jam! Think leather jackets, bold patterned shirts, or distressed denim. And don't forget to add a bold, eye-catching accessory like a chunky necklace or statement watch. Basically masculine style will fit you best. Try red, yellow or orange dresses with minimal patterns.

Taurus ascendant ❣️

Hello! Taurus rising babies 💗

Hair: You guys are all about looking polished and put-together, so go for a sleek blowout or a fancy updo. And don't be afraid to add some subtle layers to frame that gorgeous face of yours! Earthy tones are your jam, so think chestnut, caramel, or honey - they'll complement your Taurus vibe perfectly.

Face:You guys are all about that natural glow, so keep your skincare routine on point and use a foundation that enhances your complexion without looking too done-up. eyeshadow - earthy shades like terracotta, sienna, or moss will make your eyes pop! Eyeliner? Keep it subtle, soft, and brown. Mascara? Go for a lengthening formula that makes your lashes look like a million bucks! And brows? Groomed and full, please!

Makeup : Now, let's talk makeup... Lip color? Go bold with a rich shade like plum, burgundy, or a deep berry color. Blush? Soft peach or dusty rose, all the way!

Style: Style-wise, you guys are all about luxury and sophistication.Try cowboy/cowgirl theme aesthetic. Invest in quality pieces that'll last a lifetime, like cashmere sweaters, tailored trousers, or a classic leather jacket. And don't forget to add a statement piece of jewelry, like a bold cocktail ring or a quality watch.

Gemini ascendant ❣️

Hey, Gemini Rising!

Let's start with your hair.

Hair:You guys are all about looking fresh and fabulous, so go for a style that's playful and versatile. Think choppy layers, subtle highlights, or a bold new color to match your adventurous vibe! And don't forget to add some texture with a styling cream or pomade - you want to look like you just rolled out of bed and still managed to look fabulous!

Face : You guys are all about expressing yourself, so don't be afraid to try new looks and take risks! Keep your skincare routine on point and use a foundation that matches your skin tone.,,eyeshadow - bold, bright shades like blue, green, or yellow will make your eyes pop! Eyeliner-Go for a subtle cat eye or a bold graphic look. Mascara? Make those lashes pop with a volumizing formula!

Makeup: makeup wise, Lip color? Go bold with a bright shade like coral, pink, or orange. Blush? Soft peach or dusty rose, all the way!

Style: you guys are all about mixing and matching. Try academia looks, it will look good on you. Pair bold prints with neutral basics, or try a statement piece like a bright scarf or a fun hat.

Cancer ascendant ❣️

Hey Cancer Rising! let's go babies.

Hair : You guys are all about easy, breezy styles that look like you just rolled out of bed (in a good way, obvi). Think soft layers, relaxed updos, or a nourishing hair mask to keep your locks looking luscious.

Face : You're all about glowing from within, so keep your skincare routine gentle and nourishing. Use a foundation that complements your skin tone, and don't be afraid to add a soft, shimmery eyeshadow to make your eyes sparkle. Think light brown, pink, or peach - soft and pretty!

Makeup : Makeup-wise, go for soft, inviting lip colors like rose, peach, or pale coral. And don't forget to add a soft pink or dusty rose blush to give your cheeks a healthy, rosy glow.

Style: you guys are all about comfort and elegance. Think soft basics, cozy cardigans, and flowy dresses that make you feel like a queen. And tbh don't ever try the dark feminine aesthetic, I think it will not suit you the best.

Leo ascendant ❣️

Hey there, Leo Rising babies! Leshh go!

Hair: You guys are all about making a statement, right? Go for a bold, fierce style that's full of volume and texture. Think subtle layers or a sleek updo that shows off that radiant smile of yours!

Face : You guys are all about glowing up, and I am HERE. FOR. IT! Focus on enhancing your natural beauty with a fierce skincare routine and a foundation that matches your skin tone. And don't be afraid to add some drama with bold, shimmery eyeshadow in shades like gold, bronze, or copper.

Make up : Makeup-wise, you guys are all about making a statement! Go bold with a bright lip color like red, coral, or orange. And add some soft peach or dusty rose blush for a radiant glow that's totally on point.

Style: you guys are all about making an entrance! Pair bold basics with statement accessories and shoes that make you feel like a queen. And don't forget to add some drama with a statement piece like a bold scarf or a fun hat.

Virgo ascendant ❣️

Hello Virgo rising babies! Let's dive in ..

Hair: Go for sleek and polished styles that show off your attention to detail. Try smooth blowouts, precise cuts, and a hint of subtle layers.

Face: Take care of your skin with a consistent skincare routine and find a foundation that matches your skin tone. Add a touch of eyeshadow to enhance your natural beauty. Also pay attention to details like waxing your brows, trimming your nails. Take care of your skin by getting enough sleep and staying hydrated.

Makeup: Keep it natural and effortless with light foundation, defined brows, and a swipe of mascara. You want to look like yourself, just a little bit enhanced! Don't try dark themes that's all.

Style: Pair classic pieces with statement accessories and shoes that add a touch of sophistication. Mix and match textures and patterns to keep things interesting.Try light feminine looks. Experiment with different styles until you find what works best for you.

Libra ascendant ❣️

Hi,Libra Rising babies.lets see ,

Hair:Go for styles that are balanced and harmonious, like effortless waves or subtle layers.Avoid extreme lengths or volumes.Try a relaxed, natural look that frames your face and complements your features.

Face: enhance your natural beauty with a consistent skin care routine that includes exfoliating, moisturizing and protecting your skin.Find a foundation that maches your skin tone,provides light to medium coverage.Add a touch of elegance with subtle eyeshadow , defined brows and a swipe of mascara.

Makeup:Keep it classy and sophisticated with light to medium coverage foundation, subtle blush, and defined lashes.Avoid bold or bright colors.Try a soft, natural lip color that complements your skin tone.

Style: Pair classic pieces with stylish accessories and shoes that add a touch of glamour. Mix and match textures and patterns to create a look that's both elegant and eclectic. Avoid over-accessorizing , you want to look polished, not cluttered.

Scorpio ascendant ❣️

Hi, Scorpio Rising peoples.

Let's talk about your hair first.

Hair:Go for styles that are edgy and intense, like bold cuts or dark colors. Emphasize your eyes with fringe (or bangs) that create a mysterious vibe. Try a sleek, low ponytail or a messy, undone look. I know you want to look more mysterious 🙂.

Face:Try some skin care obv.You are all about dark aesthetic.Add depth to your eyes with bold eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and voluminous lashes.

Makeup:Keep it dramatic and intense with bold lip colors.Emphasize your features with contouring and highlighting.( Maddy from euphoria, look at her aesthetic)

Style:Pair dark, bold pieces with statement accessories and shoes that add an edgy touch.Mix and match textures and patterns to create a look that's both intense and intriguing. Try vampire aesthetic.

Sagittarius ascendent ❣️

Hellooo, Sagittarius Ascendant!

Hair:Try a longer, layered cut that frames your face and adds movement to your locks.Emphasize your natural texture with a sea salt spray or texturizing cream.Avoid too much heat styling - you want to look effortless, not overdone.

Face:Exfoliate regularly to keep your skin looking bright and radiant.Use a lightweight foundation that matches your skin tone and provides sheer coverage.Define your brows with a brow gel or pomade for a polished look.

Makeup:Add a pop of color to your look with a bold blush or eyeshadow shade.Try a metallic or shimmer finish to give your eyes a celestial sparkle.Keep your lips soft and hydrated with a nourishing lip balm. also yeah, witchy look will fit good on you.

Style:Pair comfortable, flowy pieces with statement accessories that add a touch of adventure to your look.Mix and match patterns and textures to create a look that's both eclectic and sophisticated. As, Sagittarius relates with teacher theme, so try academia/ teacher aesthetic.

Capricorn ascendant ❣️

Huii, huiii Capricorn Rising! Let's see,

Hair:Try a side part and a sleek, low ponytail to showcase your disciplined style.Use a hair straightener or flat iron to add a touch of sophistication to your look.Avoid too much volume or texture - you want to look polished, not puffy.

Face:Emphasize your natural features with a highlighter or illuminator. Define your eyes with a precise brow shape and a swipe of mascara. Keep your skin looking smooth and refined with a consistent skincare routine.

Makeup:Go for a natural, effortless look with light to medium coverage foundation.Add a touch of warmth with a subtle bronzer or blush. Define your lips with a precise lip liner and gloss.

Style:Mix and match textures and patterns to create a look that's both sophisticated and interesting.Pay attention to details, Try elegant accessories, make sure your clothes are pressed, your shoes are polished, and your accessories are tasteful. Try vintage style aesthetic.

Aquarius ascendant ❣️

Hoii, Aquarius Ascendant! Let's see,

Hair: Add some rebellious volume with a texturizing spray.Emphasize your eyes with a bold, swooping fringe.Try a bold, bright hair color to match your vibrant personality.

Face:Highlight your best features with a radiant highlighter.Define your brows with a bold, angular shape.Add a pop of color with a vibrant lip shade. Indeed, the weirder the better 😂

Makeup:Go for a bold, graphic look with black eyeliner and bright eyeshadow. Add some drama with false lashes or individual lashes.Try a bold, bright lip color to make a statement.

Style:Pair bold, statement pieces with comfortable, laid-back essentials.Mix and match patterns and textures to create a look that's both quirky and chic.Don't be afraid to take risks and try new things. Nerdy aesthetic, alien type aesthetic will suit you.

Pisces ascendant ❣️

Hola,Pisces Rising!

Hair:Add some ethereal waves with a curling iron or wand.Emphasize your dreamy eyes with a soft, wispy fringe.Try a pastel hair color to match your soft, romantic vibe.

Face:Highlight your best features with a subtle, shimmering highlighter. Define your brows with a soft, natural shape.Add a touch of magic with a shimmery eyeshadow or lip gloss.

Makeup:Go for a soft, romantic look with light, natural shades. Ethereal look like , try mythical aesthetic or look at cosplayers. That type of make-up will suit you the best.

Style:Pair flowy, feminine pieces with comfortable, laid-back essentials. Mix and match soft textures and pastel colors to create a look that's both dreamy and chic.Don't be afraid to add some quirky, bohemian touches.

Thanks for reading ✨

-PIKO 💖

482 notes · View notes