#and i’ve been attempting to keep my sleep schedule on track

[rinphoria]

sometimes i consider not setting an alarm but if i wake up after 9:30 i get upset bc it feels like it’s too late 🥲

#[დ] — diary #which it’s not #at some point that used to be early for me #but last semester really fucked me up with waking up at 7 #and i’ve been attempting to keep my sleep schedule on track #bc i have class at 8 fucking 30 in the fall so #why am i even posting this #idk #alright we’ll i’m gonna maybe go to bed now lol #goodnight mwah mwah

[friedesgreatscythe]

current schedule to keep myself on some type of disciplined track:

revisions during the day / danganronpa 3 watching before my trial of crunchyroll expires

ffxiv late afternoon into early evening (latest: 9:30)

resident evil 4 remake til midnight

fire emblem: three houses from midnight til my nighttime pills kick in.

and after that it’s attempting to sleep because oh my god what’s wrong with me i can’t sleep at all lately

idk if i’ll liveblog re4r; i want to play chapter by chapter each night, so i might do a write up of thoughts after each chapter. i can see myself sitting on re4r for quite a bit, like how i am right now with danganronpa 2 and fire emblem: three houses, so i expect to have more thoughts to say afterward. lord knows bloodborne gave me tons of thoughts for mini essays over multiple years.

i’m really excited for all this ;_; i work so much better with a schedule of content or work to achieve--another reason school was so wonderful for me. when left to my own devices, especially when i’m in a depressed episode due to trauma and *gestures wildly at my life* everything, i can fall into a habit of doing nothing besides laying around and playing cookie jam on my phone.

i’ve also been meaning to try out automata and p5r on my switch. and my ps+ account lets me have both horizon zero dawn games for free, so. there’s a lot of vidya on the horizon (no pun intended) for me.

too bad it isn’t books. there isn’t anything i’m interested in reading that isn’t indie or self-pubbed, but i have to wait for some spare cash for that. :( it’d be great if libraries could pick that stuff up, since that’s how i read most of my books these days. trad pub has nothing that has caught my eye, and tbh i’m kinda... burnt out with those kinda releases atm. i see too many trad pubs showing their asses on twitter to think much of the industry, which isn’t fair to the authors of course, but. shrugs. i’m also not too fussed about what they’re releasing either.

[heinous-eli]

Ibuprofen, a poem

[ content notice: OTC drug abuse, menstruation, manipulative/emotionally abusive relationships, references to fellatio/sex work, emesis, self-unaliving and self-harm attempts/impulses]

2006

The bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. No one tracks it, at least not very closely. No one thinks much of it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time.

My mind is going and going and going. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what’s happening to me. It feels something like puberty, when, some seven years prior my body’s core was opened so that the flesh nest I didn’t know I had built could be shed before it went septic.  My body has remade itself fully since then. Time for something else to be torn apart.

The bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. No one tracks it, at least not very closely. No one thinks much of it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time to the point where I’ve learned to dry-swallow so that I don’t have to leave class to take a few to dull that familiar deep ache punctuated by sharp spasms.

I think about the time 7 years and 7 more before when I had stumbled upon a stray pill the brand-name one with the sweet coating looking like a light brown coated chocolate on the beige carpet the best color of all the M&Ms, which were the best candy It didn’t feel like one in my hand. I immediately told my mother what I had found and handed it over. What a good girl.

The bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. No one tracks it, at least not very closely. No one thinks much of it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time. I’ve been getting it for myself for years now.

I reach up towards the high medicine cabinet shelf. Press and turn the safety cap. I am too tall and too dexterous at that point to be child-locked or shelf-blocked out of it. Should I be? After all, the air freshener, which I didn’t even know was a drug says “Keep out of reach of children and teens” right on the label. Mom and I had laughed about that. I am too mature to be in need of any such safeguards. I got my twelve-year molars at nine and my period at ten not exactly the type to suck down fumes in hopes of a high.

The bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. No one tracks it, at least not very closely. No one thinks much of it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time and this new anguish feels like one of those times.

I fill my palm with the rounds. They don’t look like the pretty, long-discontinued light brown M&M. Don’t make a nice sound when making contact with each other. We’d long switched away from that smooth-shelled, sweet-coated name brand. These were dull and rough, harder to suck down but by now, I can dry-swallow up to four of them without my teacher noticing. However many these are, they don’t stand a chance against me. I’m home, in no rush, no need to hide anything with a glass of water if I want it just a few feet away. I can hold these for longer, since the coating won’t melt in my hands. They don’t melt in my mouth, either.

The now nearly-empty bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. No one tracks it, at least not very closely. No one thinks much of it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time.

I suck down enough to make me lose time. I drift, lost to time, swallowed by the rounds. I sleep all evening, all night, all morning. For once in my overregulated life, I’m left to be. I’m in college, so I handle my own schedule and alarms. I’m on my period, so no one reminds me of Maghrib, Isha, or Fajr. No one thinks much of it. I wake up, realize I’ve been dead to the world from Asr to Zuhr but not dead enough to leave the world.

The now nearly-empty bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. Mom eventually notices it’s almost gone and adds it to her shopping list. No one thinks much of it, including her aside from admonishing us to tell her when things are running out. Everyone knows I need it from time to time.

I successfully play it off as my usual monthly troubles. The boy I like, the one who’s been taunting me into tearing myself asunder tells me that I have what is essentially a hangover. I need a thick, hearty Irish stew. He asserts, with that full-smirk half-innuendo that keeps me hooked on him that if it weren’t for my parents, he’d bring me some and feed it to me. I don’t tell him I’m too nauseous to swallow water let alone enjoy slurping on some exotic new dish.

The new bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. No one tracks it, at least not very closely. No one thinks much of it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time.

Approximately 2 body-remakes later

The bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. No one tracks it, at least not very closely. No one thinks much of it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time. It’s there, but he’s more incapacitated than usual.

What’s wrong, I ask?

"Oh, I needed them but we were out two weeks ago And I know we’re broke so you know" I don’t know. Do you know? Love of my life, look at me. By now, you not only know that I would not only

Get a payday loan Put up the car as collateral Swallow cum along with some mild disrespect Swallow some of my pride and ask my sister Swallow a bit more of my pride and e-beg Sell my soul, if I still had one Swallow what’s left of my pride and ask my parents

just so that you could be the slightest bit less uncomfortable but also that I could. Because I have. You were there. This is a basic that costs less than a tank of gas one that we both need, if differently, to boot. I drop everything post-haste to get the dual-pack of bottles rattling unpleasantly with their full capacity of rough brown pills.

The bottle sits in the medicine cabinet. No one I tracks it, at least not very closely. No one I thinkso much about it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time. It’s there, but he’s more incapacitated than usual.

What’s wrong, I ask?

"Oh, I needed them but I couldn’t find it" Love of my life, didn’t we decide on the spot together-- Never mind. From here on out it lives right here, right at your desk along both your sight-lines from every angle.

The bottle sits in the medicine cabinet on his desk, under his eye. I track it. I thinkso much about it. Everyone knows I need it from time to time. It’s there, but he’s more incapacitated than usual.

What’s wrong, I ask?

“Oh, I saw you take it from my desk so I thought it wasn’t there” Love of my life, didn’t we decide on the spot together-- Never mind. From here on out I will sit at your desk when I open it so you know it will never leave you.

The bottle backup sits in the medicine cabinet. The bottle sits stays on his desk, under his eye. I track it. I thinkso much about it. Everyone He knows I need it from time to time. It’s there, but he’s more incapacitated than usual.

What’s wrong, I ask?

“Oh, I saw you take some the other day and you’re on your period And it seemed like it was running low I couldn’t finish it while you still needed it could I” Love of my life, didn’t I say I was tracking it and weren’t you there when I bought the new ones-- Never mind. From here on out I will never touch it. It’s all yours.

The backup sits in the medicine cabinet behind his bottle. The His bottle stays on his desk, under his eye. My bottle stays in my bag, rattling unpleasantly. I track it his. I thinkso much about it his. Everyone He knows I need it from time to time. it’s his. It’s there, but he’s more incapacitated than usual.

What’s wrong, I ask? “Oh, I forgot to tell you I was running low And you know I can never remember the one in the cabinet” Love of my life, I didn’t expect you to remember the cabinet The new one was right behind the old one-- Never mind. From here on out I’ll open the new bottle and I’ll pour the old ones atop the new and I’ll discard the old bottle so you don’t get them confused.

The backup sits behind becomes his bottle. His bottle stays on his desk, under his eye. The bottle formerly his goes into the trash. My bottle stays in my bag, rattling unpleasantly. I track his. I thinkso much about his. He knows it’s his. It’s there, but he’s more incapacitated than usual.

What’s wrong, I ask?

“Oh, I saw you throw away the bottle I thought we were out” Love of my life, didn’t we talk about this last time-- Never mind. I tell him I’m so sorry. I’ll do better. From here on out, I wait until he’s asleep so that I can open the new bottle and pour the old ones atop the new and discard the old bottle so he doesn’t get them confused out of his sight, so he doesn’t think we’re out.

The backup becomes his bottle. His bottle stays on his desk, under his eye. The bottle formerly his goes into the trash doesn’t exist. This is an infinity bottle of ibuprofen. Bulk shopping has progressed so much these days. My bottle stays in my bag, rattling unpleasantly. I track his. I thinkso much about his. He knows it’s his. It’s there, but he’s more incapacitated than usual.

I choke so hard I cannot ask. What’s wrong he asks

The choking merges with a memory of excess and nausea. I slurp down an entire bottle then put my fingers down my throat so I can give it all to him. What else have I left to give?

#poetry #breakups

[drzootsuit]

The Captain rubbed her face, bleary eyes attempting to adjust enough to the harsh reality of morning enough to locate her private quarters stash of teabags. Her damn alarm hadn’t gone off on time, and too much sleep made waking up harder. In this state, she had trouble even figuring out where her teaspoons were. As she staggered to the tea engine, addled brain attempting to comprehend such intricacies as left and right, she found herself interrupted by the surprise feeling of a mug being forcibly inserted into her hand. “Good morning, Captain Velacruz!” Her gaze managed to focus on the shape of the strange beaming girl, currently pouring a second cup of tea. “Current time is 0800 hours. The Alice is, in accordance with your flight plan, still navigating to plane BF2500 - ‘Lagoona Horrifica’. Breakfast wrapped up 5 minutes ago, most of the ship is currently watching mister Varrik’s ventriloquism show, and a maintenance request has been put in to Lorenzo to have the sand in your alarm glass re-enchanted.” The Captain stared at her visitor, head quickly losing all of its fog as her danger sense clicked on. A glance down at the mug didn’t reveal anything odd, and a dip of her pinky’s nail didn’t show any chemical reaction. Tentatively, she took a sip. “That’s… excellent.” She paused. “Who are you?” The intruder giggled, producing, with a flick of her kandy-dripping wrist, a business card. “Glitter Brando.” The captain squinted, having to look through several layers of sparkly foil to read the actual text. “‘Party girl’.” “That’s me!” “This card is very nice.” “It’s laminated~!” “And… animated.” “.Gif printing is the greatest technomagical advancement of our time.” “What exactly does your profession entail? I think we’ve got a few too many pleasure seekers around already, so I don’t know what a professional can add.” “Oh, no, I’m more on the organizational side of things!” “Oh?” “I can have a venue booked in 2 hours, promotion for the event distributed in 6, and entertainment booked in ten minutes.” “Oh.” A shiver went down the captain’s spine as she recalled faint memories of similar people. Person-shaped blurs that became visible only long enough to dispense paperwork and pleasantries carried away by the doppler effect.

“So… you’re on my ship because?” “A ship at this capacity needs organization for even basic social events. Without someone keeping track of all the disparate personalities, it’s doomed to descend into chaos. For instance, the kitchen’s auto-chef broke down last night when Vix goaded it to combat, and it had to be shot out of the airlock in order to prevent it from killing everyone on the ship.” “What!?” “Soooo, I’ve taken the liberty of organizing a chart that sorts all current passengers and staff into cooperative cooking teams who make ship-size meals on a rotating schedule. This both builds community and saves on the cost of buying a new auto-chef.” “Wow.” The captains gaze steeled for a moment as the information fully sank in. “How much does my business ledger now say I'm paying you?” The pinkette let out a laugh, of the sort that can only be achieved when someone else has realized they are in grave danger.

#terraria #vix terraria #terraria party girl #party girl terraria #captain velacruz #concept art #fanfic #lore #realtalk though she is on the run from something #is it the police? is it some powerful god or warlord? #who knows! all that matters is that she is here now and you cannot make her leave #Choose: is it better to have her working for you #or for someone who doesn't like you~? #she's read all your files after all~ #mod eater #mod eater npc

[chockfullofsecrets]

Critical Role: The Importance of Timing, Ch 1

<<chapter navigation TBA>>

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb and Essek make the mistake of overworking themselves right before the Mighty Nein are scheduled for a reunion. Lessons are learned.

Wordcount: 3.6k (yeah, this one’s going to take a while)

A/N: making some more progress on my backlog of prompts (this one happens to be both from the most recent vote and this lovely anon prompt)! cross your fingers that this is going to be my first finished chapter fic lol

---

Caleb hardly remembers it, later.

It was evening - not particularly late, but after three near-sleepless nights time stretched into its own kind of viscous liquidity. Like a soup.

He laughed to himself at the absurdity of it, too tired for more than the barest expense of breath. Essek would know better than he, of course - he turned to him, intending to share the thought, and found a sheaf of notes thrust mere inches from his face.

“Here,” Essek said brusquely. Exhaustion did not lend itself to the usual smoothness of his speech. “I think I have it, finally - if we engrave it this way, the spell will replenish itself without interrupting conversation, yes?”

“Oh.” He took the papers, looking them over blearily - his eyes widened, a brief rush of vigor returning. “Oh, this is - oh, this is good! Let me just fabricate the surface smooth again and we can try-”

There was a crash from a location beyond the lab and therefore currently unimportant. Neither of them looked up.

The interruption, then, arrived unexpectedly.

“Hel-loooo!”came a lilting Nicodranian accent from the hall. “We got here early and you didn’t answer your door so we used our super cool magic powers to come in, and we should to-tally make a hammock themed room in the mansion tonight because I think Fjord is kind of land sick - Caleb, look at me, why do you look so terrible?”

Caleb knew the consequences of ignoring that voice. He looked up.

After hours of gazing at runes, his eyes refused to fully adjust and take in the three figures in the doorway. He squinted and managed to make out a bit of blue. “Jester?”

“They look tired right out, the poor things,” a purple blob pronounced from Jester’s right. “We haven’t missed out on an adventure, have we?”

“No,” Jester said, “Essek would never go out with his hair looking like that. Right, Essek? Aren’t you, like, super embarrassed that your hair’s all floppy right now?”

Sitting shoulder to shoulder with the floppy-haired drow in question, Caleb could just barely hear him hiss in protest at the interruption. “Leave, then, if it disturbs you so.”

Caleb blinked, starting to fumble together a sentence to dull the reprimand, and suddenly the remaining green blob resolved into Fjord as he put a hand on Caleb’s forehead and crouched to look into his eyes. “All right, it’s bedtime for you two. Jes, can you get Essek?”

“Wait-” Caleb grabbed weakly for the table, for his notes at least, but he was already being swept up in Fjord’s arms and carried bodily from the room. Essek sounded much more awake - and irate, frankly - behind him, trying to explain something, but it had been far too long since he had been anywhere near horizontal - with his head pillowed against Fjord’s bicep, he was asleep before they reached the stairs.

---

Waking is a slow process.

He is not alone - there’s a weight to being tangled up in someone else, the warm scent of closeness, and even without his eidetic memory he does not think he can ever forget the stony, moon-soaked smell of having his face buried in the crook of Essek’s shoulder.

He yawns lazily. Essek must be very tired, if Caleb is awake and he is not, and he is the better cook of the two of them anyway - although of course neither of them have any comparison to Caduceus, or Yasha now that it’s been several months since her last poisoning incident. He presses a gentle kiss to Essek’s jaw and rolls out of bed to get started with breakfast.

Or tries to, at least. His top half makes it out of bed easily enough, but the rest of him does not seem inclined to follow.

Something clanks at the foot of the bed as he narrowly hauls himself up from a quick trip to the floor. He props himself up on an elbow, halfway through another yawn, and finds himself staring down a pair of manacles hooked around his ankles.

He kicks cautiously. The chain threaded through his bed posts clanks again.

Panic begins to stir low in his gut. “Essek!”

There’s a sleepy murmur next to him. He twists to find Essek blinking awake - there’s not much else he can do, with his arms shackled above his head and his legs chained below in similar fashion. The cuffs are padded at least, stuffed with what looks to be worn handkerchiefs, and they’re both fully dressed in sleep clothes - their captors don’t want to hurt them, then, not yet.

Caleb scans the room frantically. The book he has been reading is still propped open on the bedside table, the door knob Essek had pried from an Aeorian ruin after Caleb had commented on its sparkle still proudly adorns the bathroom door, Kingsley is still leaning against the window-

He grins smugly as Caleb’s gaze snaps back to him. “Oh, good, you’re both awake. Comfy watch, but it’s ever so much more boring without the-” He pulls his hands from his pockets and rocks them back and forth. “Oh, and also the fish folk trying to kill us, those are great.”

“Kingsley?” Caleb demands. Next to him, Essek makes a shocked sound as he presumably recognizes that he cannot move any of his limbs. “What is this?”

“Oh, I can’t rightly say.” Kingsley saunters over and swings himself neatly up onto the mattress, worming between him and Essek to sit cross-legged at the center of the bed. “Wasn’t my idea, at any rate-”

“Jester and Fjord were here too,” Essek interrupts. “Is this - this is a prank, is it not?”

“Hush, you,” Kingsley smirks. “All I’ve got is that I’m to ensure you don’t make your way free with any spellcasting before Fjord and Jester get back. And to that end…”

He breaks the pause with a dramatic flourish of his arms, spreading them wide before laying a palm down lightly on each of their bellies. “I’m told this should do just fine, if the two of you care to demonstrate?”

Caleb connects the dots just a moment too late to throw himself back off the edge of the bed. “Kingsley - wait - ah!”

There was a time when it would take minutes for his mind to link the intruding sensation of touch to anything but wariness. Now, the instant Kingsley’s fingers start scribbling he’s flat on his back, pushing weakly at the offending limb and doing his best not to collapse into hysterical snickering at how much it - it -

“Tickle, tickle, magic man,” Kingsley teases, pupilless eyes aflame with mischief. “No, no, don’t bother fighting it. I’ve heard tales about those ribs of yours, you know. Especially how much you love letting Jester play with them, hm?”

“N-nein, that’s not-” Caleb tries to protest, but he’s already giggling just at the thought - Fjord and Jester are here, and he’s stuck, and Kingsley won’t stop tickling him-

Kingsley’s grin grows another satisfied inch as he turns back to Essek. “And you, stubborn - oh, are you trying to cast something? Is that what that face means?”

Essek is struggling, jaw working and face scrunched as his entire body trembles in time with the claw vibrating its way into his belly. Caleb can practically see the Misty Step brewing on his tongue, just a few short words between him and freedom if only he can get them out without laughing.

Until Jester tracks him down, that is. He hasn’t - they’ve been apart, and then in Aeor, and then working on their big project for the past few weeks, and Caleb hasn’t exactly gotten around to admitting that he might like Essek to - admitting anything, really. Or telling Essek that now that Jester knows he’s ticklish and doesn’t entirely mind it, any attempt to escape will only end in more retribution.

An oversight, in retrospect.

Kingsley purrs, apparently entirely delighted with his victim’s predicament. “Oh, come on now, you can do it! It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good magic show.” Essek shakes his head frantically, lips pressed together even as his cheeks puff with repressed giggles, and Kingsley grins all the wider. “No? Let’s see how long you last when I really start pressing your buttons, then.”

On his side and snickering helplessly, Caleb cannot help but feel a little jealous as he watches Kingsley tug up Essek’s shirt and wait for his eyes to widen in terrible anticipation. “One last chance, then? Cause I think this is really going to tickle.”

Caleb wants him to succeed, really, he does - but watching Essek try as hard as he can to curl in on himself as a single fingertip starts to rub at his navel, squirming and squeezing his eyes shut and finally barking out the first two syllables of his incantation before the third succumbs to high, squeaking laughter holds its own considerable charm. “Ahahaaaa - nooo, hehe! - wh -” He laughs a little more, shoulders shaking, and barely manages to gasp out the words. “Fjord - Jester - where -”

“Couldn’t take it? Oh, you are a ticklish thing,” Kingsley tells him, laughing when Essek’s attempt at protesting collapses into a breathless snort. “You’re wondering where they are? Really, I couldn’t say. Maybe they’ll be gone for hours, and I’ll just have to keep tickling and tickling-”

He’s focused in on Essek now, taking his other hand off Caleb to wiggle it menacingly over a defenseless armpit - Essek takes one look at the new threat and screams. “Caleb!”

Kingsley’s replaced his hand with his tail squeezing around Caleb’s thigh, and it tickles so badly and unexpectedly that Caleb would like to curl up in a ball and do some screaming of his own, but with Essek pleading for his help there’s no other choice.

He pulls himself back onto his elbows and flops into Kingsley’s lap as best he can with his legs chained, reaching blindly for ticklish spots that used to belong to Mollymauk - gasping through a new wave of laughter as the spade of Kingsley’s tail starts to poke at the soft back of his knee, he crowds his fingernails against the small of Kingsley’s back and yelps in preemptive terror as Kingsley starts to laugh and reaches for him instead. “Fjord! Jester!” he shouts. “Help!”

“Gah - oh, fuck, thahat’s - haaaa-” Kingsley flails for a moment, legs kicking out as he tries to shimmy away, but in the next moment his fingers are tickling mercilessly under Caleb’s arms and Caleb can hardly breathe, let alone keep tickling him. He flails to escape, trying to wrap his arms around himself and use them to drag himself away at the same time, but really that just means that Kingsley’s hands are stuck in his armpits now and he’s going to die-

“Right, right, I’ve learned my lesson, no ganging up on our little star,” Kingsley grumbles. Caleb gasps in breathless relief as Kingsley works his hands free - he’s facedown on the mattress, but he hears Essek shout for Fjord and Jester too before dissolving into another fit of giggles. Presumably Kingsley’s putting his tail to good use somewhere.

A hand grabs his shoulder, and he’s rolled over onto his back with his legs untwisting beneath him. He blinks up into Kingsley’s gaze, eyebrows raised in apparent dudgeon. “You, on the other hand,” Kingsley growls, as if his lips weren’t curving up into a fanged smile already, “I am absolutely going to need both hands for what I’m about to do to your ribs.”

“Mist,” Caleb sputters reflexively, and then, louder, “Fjord! Jester! FJORD!”

Kingsley’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Oh, it’s sweet that you think they’re going to help you. Unless - oh, did you want more hands?”

Caleb hardly hears the approaching footsteps over his own anticipatory squeal as he watches Kingsley’s fingers start to wander back down towards his ribs. “Nein! - eheeheh, oh gods, nein-”

But then, suddenly, blessedly, the fingers ghost lightly over his ribs and settle for spidering across his tummy instead. He wheezes in relief - half of it comes out as giggles, his nerves still on high alert, but he fully intends to enjoy breathing while he can.

He flops tiredly back, eyes tracking to the doorway as Fjord and Jester stroll in. “Sorry for the wait,” Fjord says politely. “Jester and I were just finishing up lunch. Because it’s lunchtime.”

“No rush, Captain!” Kingsley practically chirps. “We’re having a wonderful time, aren’t we, boys?”

Fjord looks completely unsurprised to find the two of them in chains. Jester is practically bouncing beside him. Caleb imagines this does not bode well for them.

Essek pipes up from behind him, metal clanking as he tries to move to see around Kingsley. “Did - heh - did we oversleep? I think the shackles are a bit uncalled for-”

“Oh,” Fjord says, low and dangerous. He’s not smiling, not yet, but Caleb can see it in his eyes and that is even worse. “Don’t mind those. It would be a shame to let the two of you leave your bedroom so soon when you haven’t seen it in days and days, wouldn’t it?”

With Kingsley still tickling at his waist, Caleb can’t even begin to coax his stomach muscles to let him sit up as Fjord and Jester cross to the bed and loom over the both of them. Jester claps her hands together, looking dangerously pleased with herself. “Do you like them?” she enthuses. “We got them from a pirate raid, because someone put our other set on a fish person that jumped right back into the ocean.”

“They were getting rusted anyway - I don’t think we collected a single one of those at sea, they’re not even waterproofed.” Fjord grumbles amiably. “These, though-”

He hooks one finger delicately through the chain connecting Caleb’s ankles to the bedpost and tugs, dragging one helpless foot just close enough to scoop up in a waiting hand. “Now these are made for some real seafaring shit. Could hold a body for as long as you want, as long as they aren’t inclined to use any magic tricks.”

Caleb tries to yank his foot back. Fjord just chuckles and leans over to stare him down, his yellow eyes warm and amused. “Isn’t that right, Caleb.”

“No magic tricks,” he gasps out through another fit of giggles as Fjord rubs a warning thumb over his sole. It’s hardly a concession - between that and Kingsley, he hardly has the breath to try anything.

“Good,” Fjord says encouragingly. He puts Caleb’s foot gently down and turns to Essek. “Now you.”

Caleb turns to look at him - from what little of Essek’s body language he can read, he looks wholly confused. “You’re not going to let us go?”

Fjord crosses his arms. “Oh, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement. Just consider this a friendly reminder that Jester, Kingsley and I are quite capable of following any… magical exits.”

Essek visibly rallies at the mention of magic, quirking an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you had learned how to Teleport.”

“Essek,” Caleb hisses. Fjord shushes him and stalks a single step forward, just close enough to start tickling lightly at the bottom of one purple foot.

Essek’s superior expression lasts all of a moment before his entire body starts flailing to escape the single point of contact. “Ah! No, nohoho, wahahait, I didn’t - ahaha, stop that!”

“You’re right, I can’t Teleport,” Fjord says conversationally. “Good catch, I’d kind of forgotten about that one. Jes, we’ve got some antimagic stuff on the ship, right?”

Jester interrupts herself from making increasingly dramatic faces at Essek to answer. “I think so? You know, just in case if we meet someone icky like you know who.”

“Perfect. Maybe you and Kingsley can keep Essek busy, and I’ll head back to the ship and root around for it?” He looks calmly down at Essek, kicking as frantically as he can with the few inches of leeway the shackles afford him and still completely unable to avoid Fjord’s fingers. “It’ll take a while, mind you.”

Jester perks up, dancing over and reaching for Essek’s other foot. “Yes! Kingsley, did you try his ears yet? They get all flappy and it’s really really-”

“No!” Essek rushes out, squeaking in harried protest when they still don’t stop tickling up his arches. “I - wait,” he pleads. “No! I won’t cast, I won’t!”

Fjord grins. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Alright, Kingsley, can we give them a moment?”

Kingsley removes his hands from both of them rather reluctantly. Fjord claps his shoulder in silent thanks. “Now, would either of you like to explain why we found the two of you half-dead from sleep deprivation?”

“Yeah, you guys, we were so worried!” Jester adds. “You can’t do that when we’re not around to take care of you! You guys haven’t been doing this all year, have you?”

“We’ve only met up in the last few months,” Caleb adds, wincing a little as their eyes turn to him. He sits up slowly, wincing apologetically in the direction of Essek’s wrist shackles. “But no, we have not, we are just working on this project - it is a real ficker, there are so many moving pieces - and we are nearly done, we meant to sleep last night.”

“How many days?” Fjord asks. “One? Two?”

When neither of them answer, sharing a silent look, he hovers a hand threateningly over each of their trapped feet. “Believe me, you really don’t want us to pick a number.”

“Four,” Essek says warily. “But Caleb slept for at least an hour each night, and I don’t need to-”

“Oh, four’s a lot,” Kingsley cuts in. “Did you not learn how to sleep in shifts, not being on the ocean, or do you just enjoy each other’s company that much?”

Essek turns bright red. Caleb’s pretty sure he turns even redder. Even Fjord looks a little embarrassed as Jester and Kingsley collapse into laughter.

Jester sobers quickly, though, pouting insistently down at them.“Four is pret-ty bad, you guys.”

Kingsley nods seriously. Thus validated, she starts bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “I think we need to punish them, Fjord!”

Caleb can easily guess what this punishment will entail. “Wait a moment,” he says hastily, “we have not even told you about this project-”

“It will be worth it,” Essek adds. “If you would just let us-”

Fjord nods thoughtfully, ignoring their protests. “What do you say, a minute for each hour they should have been sleeping?”

“No-” Caleb starts.

“So that’s sixteen for Essek, and - Caleb’s been napping on and off, sounds like, so we’ll round it down to a neat half hour for him.”

Caleb gapes fearfully. A half hour of tickling, after months and months - he can admit to himself that he missed it a little, but- “That’s too much,” he blurts. “Bitte, you’ll kill me-”

“Really, this is unnecessary,” Essek adds, surprisingly dignified for the way he’s trying helplessly to press his feet against the bed. “Just - we are well rested now, we only need a few hours more to finish the project, there is no need!”

Jester pouts. “Oh, Essek, don’t you want to hang out with us?”

Essek flounders at that, and Caleb can’t help the soft smile that slips out of him. “I would like nothing more,” he assures her, “but being chained up and - and tortured - was not quite on my mind-”

“Well then, you shouldn’t have been so dumb, Essek,” she says cheerily. “Caleb, do you want me or Fjord to tickle you?”

His mouth goes dry. Jester will be - Fjord teases, but he is gentle at least, and Jester is - Jester-

He looks over at Essek, wide-eyed and eyes flicking between all of them in some strange combination of bewilderment and anticipation, and braces himself. “Jester.”

Kingsley laughs, delighted. “Oh, he must really love you,” he tells Essek. “He’s gone and given you the better option by far.”

Essek looks at Caleb, gaze softening. “Really?”

Caleb grimaces back at him, a little embarrassed by himself. “He’s exaggerating. And besides, I am not the one laid flat out here.”

Essek frowns. “Yes, about that.”

“Caleb doesn’t like having his wrists pinned down,” Jester says easily, scrambling up onto the bed and into Caleb’s lap. “Though you should know that already if you two are boning-”

“Jester,” Caleb pleads. Kingsley starts to laugh again.

She beams at him, darting in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Hi, Caleb!”

It’s impossible not to smile back. “Hallo, blueberry.”

He looks around her to see Fjord walk over and settle on Essek’s side of the bed, patting his shoulder companionably. “It’s good to see you two, really.”

Essek just sighs.

Kingsley prods at his belly, earning a hasty yelp. “He’s in a mood, it seems. You want some help with him?”

His stomach grumbles, just then, and Fjord laughs. “Why don’t you get some lunch instead,” he suggests. “We’d have brought something up, but the screaming sounded rather urgent.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Kingsley cocks a loose salute and swings back off the bed with one more tickle under each of their arms, snorting in amusement as Caleb and Essek both squirm and protest. “The others should be arriving soon, I’ll keep a weather eye on the door.”

“Yes, do that,” Fjord says, waiting for him to round the corner and start down the stairs. “That guy is really into sea lingo.”

“Kingsley is great,” Jester enthuses. “Don’t you guys think he looks so much prettier now that he’s all tan?”

She’s not wrong. “Ja, sure.” Caleb says. “By the way, what exactly did the two of you tell him about-” He flushes. “About my ribs?”

“Oh, you know, just some stuff!” Jester says cheerfully. “Most of it is definitely not true by now, probably, since it’s been a super long time since we’ve seen you.”

She puts both of her hands on Caleb’s shoulders and presses, sending him flat on his back and leaning over with a mischievous smile. “Good thing we have a whole half hour to catch up, huh?”

Caleb gulps.

#tickling #critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #kingsley tealeaf #fjord #jester lavorre #chocfic

[sambvcks]

crawl home to her, b.b. x reader

chapter three // didn’t care much how long i lived

summary: bucky receives a lesson on modern music over cheap beers and freshly baked scones.

warnings: mentions of abuse, food, alcohol consumption, character death (sorry)

word count: 1.6k

author’s note: besties...how we feeling about today’s episode??? using this as a coping mechanism :)

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Your record collection was extensive and collecting an unhealthy layer of dust since you had inherited them from your grandmother. It didn’t take long to fish out a Best Of album from the vast shelves, handing over the sleeve to Bucky, who sat patiently on your forest green couch, as you fiddled with the turntable’s needle.

To busy himself, he read over the repertoire of songs listed on the back.

“Let’s Get It On?”

“Usually, a guy buys a girl dinner first, Bucky.” You took a cheeky swig of your beer with an eyebrow raise as he flushed at the insinuation. “We’ll start easy. If I Could Build My Whole World Around You. A criminally under-appreciated love song.”

A bouncy beat crackled through from the speakers as you settled into the couch beside him, tucking your legs beneath you. Today’s choice of pajama bottoms displayed little snowflakes across a navy background, despite the heat outside that still lingered into nighttime.

“I like it.” Bucky decided.

“Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell have so many amazing songs together. She might not sound like it on record, but she had a hard life. Abusive, cheating partners. Brain cancer that killed her young. Hard to know what anyone’s going through behind closed doors.”

I’d put so much love where there is sorrow, I’d put joy where there’s never been before.

“I really like it.”

Your apron still hung from your waist, the gentle tick of the kitchen timer in the shape of a grey cat sat by your side. A reminder of the scones you were whipping up when Bucky unexpectedly appeared on your doorstep. You didn’t question him or bring up the late hour. Simply ushered him in with a smile and a beer shoved into his gloved hand.

Bucky feels comfortable for the first time in a long time. Eyes focused, mind stagnant. Your perfume, woodsy and natural, lingers in the air and he has to take a long gulp of his drink just to occupy himself for just a second.

“I’m glad you like it. Though, I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone who doesn’t like Marvin Gaye. It’s like not liking Queen.”

“Queen?”

The timer rattled on the coffee table and the smell of vanilla and blueberries nipped at Bucky’s nose.

“Saved by the bell! I don’t have the time to berate you on not knowing about Queen.”

You bustled your way back into the kitchen, sliding oven mitts onto your hands as you inspected the oven with a professional certainty. The record out and into the next track as Bucky watched on, your shoulders swaying to the slow tempo. You were light on your feet as you plucked one tray from the heat and replaced it with another.

It was so easy for Bucky to imagine this world as his, with the soft swing of Motown as the soundtrack to your shared afternoons. In a different life, he would come home to your baking, ask how studying went as you swayed in the kitchen together. You would wash dishes next to one another, hips pressed close, and giggle when he would press his sudsy hands onto your cheeks. You would smear remnants of cake batter on his and he would let you feed him dessert from your fingers.

It wasn’t possible, he knew. Probably ever. You would be graduating school soon, off to be an important attorney and he would still just be your across the hallway neighbor who you sometimes shared desserts and pleasantries with. You would find out who he was eventually. Everyone did. You would leave. Everyone did.

You would simply be another in a long line of failed attempts by James Buchanan Barnes.

Still, he thought, we can have this one simple night. Where you don’t know who he is, and he can imagine that it lasts long after he retreats back to his apartment.

‘Heaven must have sent you from above.’ Crooned the lovesick singers on your record player.

As you returned to the living room with another beer and the promise of scones as soon as they cooled, Bucky could only think one thing.

He was definitely starting to like Marvin Gaye.

He was starting to like you, too.

When he returned back to his apartment, hours later with a pile of records you insisted he borrow in his arms and a belly full of blueberry scones, he fell into bed without a care in his mind. It was his first full night of sleep in ninety years.

-

Bucky started appearing on your doorstep more often.

Your number was now saved in his phone and was his most frequently used contact. You were his secret, though, something he didn’t even share with Dr. Raynor. No matter how many times she tried to get him to speak about his troubling lack of acquaintances.

You were the one thing in the world untouched by all the destruction waging a war between his ears, you were easy and simple and God, it had been a long time since anything had been simple. You didn’t mind that he was brooding and a little bit clueless, or his cheesy jokes and complaints about technology these days.

His record collection was quickly growing, though it was still nowhere near yours.

Most of all, he liked sitting in your apartment, at your kitchen counter or on that forest green sofa of yours. Sometimes, you would let him pick a record and tell him everything you could remember about it. Other times, you would read from your heavy law books and he’d pretend to understand the cases and terminology, head resting against the back of your couch, admiring how your brows would furrow in concentration. He’d tell you not to hunch over your book, but you’d insist you were fine, only to be complaining about your neck the next time he saw you.

“I wish I read more actual books, you know? It seems like all I know these days are case studies.”

The next visit he’d have a worn copy of one of his favorite books tucked under his arm. He’d read to you until you’d doze off to the stories of Bilbo Baggins and his team of dwarves, a blanket tucked up to your neck.

Every visit cemented yourself further and further into his identity, until his trips to the used bookstore down the block became weekly and his morning runs became longer as you pushed more and more baked goods his way. You’d kiss his cheek as you said your goodbyes, leaning against your doorframe as he disappeared into his apartment.

He was happy. Positively, unbelievably happy.

-

Two days before Bucky’s next scheduled visit, Steve died in his sleep.

Pneumonia, or something, Bucky didn’t really comprehend any of the newscast beyond the headline ‘CAPTAIN AMERICA DEAD’ flashing in bold letters across his television screen.

Sam called early that morning and Bucky just knew. He knew what was waiting for him on the other end of that call, so he shut his phone off and laid back on the hardwood floor of his living room, dead to the world.

He didn’t speak to anyone for a few days, not even bothering with his daily runs or grocery store trips. Your knocks at his door went unanswered, with no trace that you had even stood in the hallway waiting for him other than a batch of oatmeal raisin cookies on his doormat. The only appointment he kept was his therapy, where he stared out the window and counted down the minutes until he could leave. Each attempt on Dr. Raynor’s part to bring up Steve was shut down as quickly as it was brought up.

Finally, a week later, a pounding at the door woke him from a restless afternoon nap.

“Buck, I know you’re in there.”

Sam. Of course.

“These boxes are heavy, come on!”

Sam Wilson took up Bucky’s entire doorway with his broad shoulders, the boxes stacked in his arms taking up the rest. Bucky was quick to usher him in the door, eyeing yours across the hall. He knew one look at an Avenger on his stoop would finally connect the dots for you, and you’d never speak to the Winter Soldier again.

“Keep your voice down.” Bucky shoved the final box through the doorway before securing the lock in place.

Sam surveyed his barren living room, eyes flicking to the crumpled bedsheets gathered on the floor next to his sofa but didn’t linger for long.

“I was worried about you, man.”

It used to be ‘we’, but now it’s just Sam.

“Nothing to worry about.” Bucky pushed past him to his kitchen, collecting stray dishes he hadn’t bothered to move to the sink before then. He felt Sam’s careful gaze on him the entire time. He hated that. He hated how much Sam cared.

He mostly hated how much it reminded him of Steve.

“Found these boxes in Steve’s attic. Had your name on them so I thought you might want ‘em.”

Bucky swallowed hard, focused on scrubbing the dishes under water so hot it was turning the skin on his flesh hand a violent red.

“I know this is hard, Buck-”

The glass he had been rinsing shattered between his fingers and Sam took a step back as Bucky heaved in uneven breaths. There was a long silence between the two grieving men, neither able to fully understand the other. Sam would never feel Bucky’s ninety-year heartache, the abandonment and fear of the life ahead of him. Bucky would never understand the weight on Sam’s shoulders or his unease at the shield tucked under his bed at home.

“I just want to be alone.”

Sam could do nothing but respect his wish.

“Call if you need anything.” Were his departing words as he showed himself out.

Bucky got to work cleaning up the broken glass.

taglist: @tisthedamninez @wcndamaxcmoff @freyagallileaevans @bibliophilewednesday @justtoreblogfics @teti-menchon0604 @l-adysansa @heart-eyes-horan @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @rexorangecouny @dilfvision @urafakebetch @comphersjost @am-tired-bois @spid3rgwen​ @beautyandthebleh @euphoricaaaa  @mackycat11 @inadquacy @withyoutilltheendofthismess @motherofallthesmallthings @victoriabaker112213 @macrillez @stvalentiness @nova10711

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #marvel imagine #tfatws imagine #tfatws

[aereres]

Loving You Is Easier Than I Had Expected - Matthew Tkachuk | Rock Band AU

Summary: Being one of the most popular rock band’s personal assistant was never easy: between rushing through traffic, running around, and listening to music, Chordback was part of Deborah Miller’s day-to-day life. As if her schedule wasn’t already busy enough, the band’s drummer - Matthew Tkachuk - stumbles into her life like a tornado, unexpectedly turning her world upside down. 

A/N: Oh. My. God. This fic has truly become my baby. No Joke. I’ve worked on this for almost a month and I’m so proud of what it came out to be. Hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 18,4k (damn)

Warnings: swearing (lots of it), anxiety, fighting, cockiness (also lots of it), drinking and partying, physical fights, wounds, blood, perverts, bad relationships with families, angst, mostly fluff

Chordback needed her. More than anything.

The thought made its way into Deborah’s head as she watched the band sluggishly walk around their shared penthouse, bags under their eyes as they scrambled for their luggage and important belongings. They moved without a care in the world, as if their schedule wasn’t packed with things to do, and she didn’t need to be a genius to realize that they had partied too hard the previous night.

“Move out of the way,” Noah muttered Johnny’s way, pushing past him with his suitcase in hand. “Deb, when’s the flight?”

“The flight isn’t the problem,” she stated, holding back a sigh as Elias came out of the bathroom with toothpaste still painting the side of his lips. “There’s a reason why you decided to fly privately,”

“Then why are we rushing?” Johnny said matter-of-factly, shaking his head sassily while he closed his own bass case.

“Because you have places to be after the flight,” the only woman in the house finally let her sigh out, pushing past the men to clean the white remnants off of Elias’ face, ignoring the smug smirk on his face. “Where’s Matthew, now?”

“Chucky!”

The room fell silent for a moment as she prayed - for anyone up there - that Matthew hadn’t fallen back asleep just when they needed to leave. His frame pushed past the threshold of his bedroom soon after his name was called, his signature drumsticks in hand as a relieved sigh left Deborah’s parted lips when their eyes met.

His phone was pressed to his ear, eyes far too awake for the early morning hour that made her wonder if he had gone to sleep the night before or just stayed up until sunset rolled around. His eyebrows were furrowed, the look she saw just so often painting wrinkles on his forehead as he stayed in silence.

“Taryn, I don’t have time for this right now. I’ll call you later,” the words were rushed, his voice dark and sporting a tip of annoyance before he pressed the red button on the screen. The phone was discarded in the back pocket of his jeans a second later, his eyes finding Deborah’s and making her realize she had been staring, pushing her back into action.

“Are we ready?” She asked, loud enough for everyone to hear. All she got as responses were a few grumbles, followed by the familiar sounds of the luggage the band carried around way too often moving through the penthouse.

The ride to the airport was spent in silence, a few moans and groans leaving the guys’ lips whenever something would be too loud or, in general, too exaggerated. Going through security was just as boring, with Deborah being able to share just a few hushed words with Jean - the band’s manager - before Elias or Noah would shut the two of them down.

“I told them not to drink too much,” Jean muttered under her breath, taking a look at the way Johnny’s eyes had closed. “God, is this what being a mother feels like?”

The older woman looked exasperated as she frantically walked around the boarding area, restraining herself from giving the tired men another lecture about partying like animals and how it affects their public image.

With her arms folded over her chest, Debby watched over the guys slightly older than her. She was still wondering why Matthew was carrying himself better than the rest of his friends, but it was the look on his face that truly left her curious.

His gaze was fixated on his phone, fingers tapping quickly as the wrinkles on his forehead stayed in their place. She was staring. Again. Frustrated with her own self, Deborah turned around to face the floor-to-ceiling windows of the airport, the early sun illuminating the world before your eyes.

She felt peaceful, mind clearing from the stress of the morning right before the flight attendants led her and the band towards the private jet. The luxury of its insides were nothing new to the personal assistant, and it was the same for the inappropriate glances the captain had been sending her way ever since she had started the job.

Noah dropped on one of the leather seats, eyes closing as he shut the world out, Johnny following his actions. Elias and Matthew settled in the seats opposite them, giving Deborah a clear view of the drummer’s features even from your position in the far back.

“We should get there on time,” Jean sighed, gracefully settling down next to the young woman just as the captain started to walk away. His eyes met Deborah’s one last time, a chill running up her spine when he sent her an unwanted wink, as he always used to.

To say she felt uncomfortable was an understatement.

With her heart beating loudly against her chest, she let her fingers play with the bottom of her shirt, eyes trained in front of herself. That man needs to take a hint, was all Deborah could think, so focused on blocking out the rest of the world she didn’t even notice Matthew’s eyes on her.

He had been glancing her way curiously ever since he’d noticed her body stiffen, right when she had walked inside the plane and greeted the conductor. Her demeanor had changed, and he wanted to know why.

He stayed in his seat, though. He watched from the distance, let his eyes trail over her features until she relaxed and hoped she wouldn’t notice. Because that’s what he’s always done: admire her from far away.

-----

“Listen, why can’t you just shut the fuck up and get in there?” Noah hissed, the heated conversation between him and Elias taking place inside the control room of the studio in New York. “You’ve argued about this track ever since I put it down- thank you, sweetheart,”

He grabbed the coffee Deborah handed him with a thankful smile, the flirty nickname not even impressing her anymore as she silently sat down on the closest couch.

“Dude, this track doesn’t represent us!” Elias said, pushing his sheet music around angrily before citing the words of the song. “Oh, why can’t I have you, sweet love of mine? Are you joking, Noah?! These lyrics are pop bullshit. New album is not gonna work if we write shit like this,”

The lead blew out a heavy sigh, fists turning into balls at his sides as his eyes closed. “Actually, you know what? I need to get some air,” was all Elias mumbled, pushing past his best friend with nothing but anger painting his features. Deborah was about to run after him to make sure everything was okay, but Noah’s hand dismissed her attempt.

“Let him go, he needs to cool off,”

The singer didn’t seem too pleased with his friend’s shenanigans, turning to face the empty booth in front of his eyes as another sigh turned his body stiff. Fights had occurred before: Deborah wasn’t new to arguments about where the group was going to eat, or even fights because of girls; but things had started to become too tense, too complicated between the four men.

“Chucky, your turn,” Noah mumbled, snapping the only woman in the room out of her trance to see Matthew walk past her, drumsticks in hand.

He was silent as he sat down in front of the drum set, pushing the pair of headphones over his nest of curls. His tattooed arms were in full display as he gave Noah a thumbs up, a cocky smile painting his lips. Matthew was the living description of a rock star, and Debby couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

The drummer’s eyes closed as the music started playing in his ears, his drumsticks making a quick turn between his fingers before he began doing what he loved the most. Watching him play had Deborah mesmerized: the way he attentively looked in front of himself to catch Noah’s reactions, or just the movements of his hands as he gave his everything into the performance, even if his only audience were her and Noah.

Deborah was lost in his gaze, his light, stormy eyes making her heart skip a beat. The sounds coming from him came to a halt before she knew it, a satisfied smirk coating his lips as he waited for Noah’s judgment.

It was silent for a few seconds, heavy breathing coming from the singer as he revived the moment and the melody in his head. “Jesus, Matt,” he breathed into the speaker, trying to muffle the shock in his features by batting his eyelids. “You got it perfect on the first time, damn,”

Matthew’s smirk grew bigger, taking its usual cocky mark as he stood up and finally noticed the assistant. When he strutted back inside the control room to grab his belongings, he snickered at her mesmerized gaze.

“Close your mouth before you catch flies, honey,” was all he said, cocking his brow as his smug smile still sat on his lips. The remark had Deborah’s face turn into a scowl, his cocky words engraving themselves in her mind as he walked away.

She bit her lip as she turned back around to face Noah, trying to push Matthew and his cockiness out of her head, with no success. The lead, on the other hand, looked in distress: he was hunched over the console, clearly in his own head as silence engulfed the two of them in a stressful hug.

“Tell me you know how to play the guitar,” he mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes as he turned around to face Deborah. “Or at least how to book a place for us in a bar, tonight,”

“I can do the latter,” she sighed, knowing that Noah’s plans to finish the song would need to involve a night out, alcohol, and girls willing to drool all over Elias’ charm.

“And please, come out with us, Deb,” he continued. “Jean doesn’t want things to go too wild, so we might need you to keep us on track,”

She held back a sigh. Her plans for a relaxing night at the hotel had been crushed. Again. Though a night by herself looked way better than a packed club, Deborah’s job was calling, and she couldn’t refuse.

“Alright, I’ll be there,” she said, taking her phone out of her bag to start the search for the night’s location. “I’ll text you the details,”

“Drinks are on us,”

-

Debby’s ears felt like they were going to bleed soon, and the headache was making her head throb so hard she was hoping not to faint in the middle of the most popular club in New York.

The VIP area was everything she had expected it to be: leather couches that probably cost more than her apartment back in Calgary, enough drinks to make an army drunk, and the entire female population of the city. What could she say? It was Chordback worthy.

Elias’ cheeks were tinted a dark shade of red, eyes gleaming even in the darkness of the club as he held two blondes close to his body. The smirk Deborah knew so well was painting his lips - the one he reserved for flirting purposes only - as she watched him charm another set of girls in his hotel bed.

He was the second oldest in the band, but it hadn’t taken the assistant years to realize his maturity level wasn’t what every girl on the internet expected it to be. Clad in his tight, pitch-black skinny jeans and shirt - not exactly what people would expect a rock star to dress like -, he knew how to attract girls.

Noah had tried to convince him to record his guitar solo the moment their drinks were placed in front of them, but he had ended up with no success when the guitarist had left the table mid-conversation to go dance. The lead’s patience was running low, and Debby was sure his night wasn’t going to turn out as good as he had thought it would.

If that wasn’t enough, she felt stared at. Everywhere she went, a pair of eyes was following her. Debby would turn around to find scowls coloring the groupies’ faces, their orbs giving her disgusted once-overs whenever she’d go as far as to grasp Noah’s arm to avoid falling over, or even lean close enough to ask where Matthew had gone. She had never liked being the center of attention, hence why she had decided to work behind the scenes.

By the time midnight hit, though, she had had enough. The day had been tiring, the club was anything but enjoyable, and the glaring had gone from bearable to annoyingly uncomfortable. Almost stomping her way towards the couch, Debby’s arms folded over her own chest as she stood before Matthew Tkachuk’s relaxed body.

“Okay, I’m done with this bullshit,” she yelled loudly enough to be heard over the thumping bass of the music. “Do I have something on my face?”

Matthew’s smirk paired with his arched eyebrows did its job at making the younger girl feel embarrassed. In some ways, it sent her back to the days in high school, where the popular girls only needed one of their disgusted glances to make her shut herr mouth and feel embarrassed.

Deborah ignored his expression, waiting for a response as a girl sat next to him - so close she was almost straddling his lap. “No? Why would you think that?”

“Because everyone is staring at me as if I have shit smeared all over my face,”

The words snatched a chuckle out of his system, tongue wetting his lips as he gave Debby’s body a once-over. “They think you’re a new one. One of them,”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to unravel his riddle, but nothing seemed to make sense in her mind. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“They think you’re a new groupie, that you’re stealing their place,”

“I’m not a fucking groupie,” she said, confusion clear in her features as she watched him sling his arm over the girl at his side. “I’ve been your PA for two years now!”

All Matthew did was shrug, smirking as he watched the look of annoyance spread over the personal assistant’s face. She was done. She wanted to leave the busy club behind with all the nasty glares and go back to the hotel to sleep.

Skimming past sweaty bodies, she reached Noah’s side after a few minutes. She had expected him to be having fun, but his features were still sporting a bothered scowl. “Noah!”

His attention snapped towards her in a second, his eyes boring into Deborah’s as he waited for her to speak up. “I’m heading to the hotel, I can’t stand this club anymore,”

A small nod was all she got in response, her eyes falling among the crowd to see Johnny making out with a smaller brunette, his hair sticking all over the place. Glancing towards the side of the room, she found Elias sitting on the couch, enjoying the sloppy kisses being spread all over his neck by the two blondes from earlier. Matthew, on the other hand, was still sitting on the couch - this time without his companion - his light orbs focused on Noah and their assistant.

“Can you please keep an eye on the rest of the guys?” She asked Noah, looking up at him as she waited for his response. He gave you a curt nod. “And don’t stay out too late,”

She left the club soon after, strutting out of the packed room with relief. Debby still felt eyes on herself, but not the ones of the rabid fans that had hated her since the moment she had stepped inside the room. Matthew’s eyes.

They watched her walk away, ignoring the pair of manicured hands touching his arm to catch his attention. He had been the reason why everyone was looking at her, and it wasn’t hard to tell. Yet, she was oblivious.

They had thought Deborah was a groupie because of the way he looked at her, because what his eyes held whenever he’d let himself glance her way wasn’t just curiosity. It was fondness, hunger, a cocktail of emotions that he had been trying to avoid for his own sake.

But, that time, he had lost at his own game.

-

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

Jean’s voice was sharp, so shrill it sent bolts of pain through Deborah’s temples. She had watched the scene unfold in front of your eyes, starting with the unexpected awakening in the middle of the night, ending with all the band members getting lectured by their agent.

The woman in her forties looked like she was about to tug her dark hair off of her scalp, an angry look on her face as she looked at the men sitting in front of her. “Jean, calm down. It was just a fight,”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, boy!” Jean pointed her finger sharply at his face, nostrils flaring. “Just a fight, Elias?! It’s all over the internet!”

Guilt washed over Debby as she took in Noah’s beat-up face, including his cut lip and purplish left eye; Matthew, next to him, wasn’t doing any better. She was supposed to be there, to keep an eye on the guys.

Jean had woken her up in a rush an hour after coming back to the hotel, mumbling under her breath as she dragged Deborah to her personal room. Chordback was already sitting on the edge of her bed, their eyes cast on the floor as the assistant noticed their bruises and cuts.

“I hate to say this, Elias, but you’ve been causing problems for the past month,” Jean sighed, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand as her tired eyes focused on the landscape out of the hotel’s window. “First the schedule, then Noah’s song, now whatever happened at the club,”

She let another sigh slip past her lips before her voice took a gentler tone. “John, what happened?”

There was a beat before the bass player spoke, and Deborah took a moment to examine his face. He was by far the one that hadn’t been affected by the fight, at all. “I- uh… I don’t know,”

The assistant had to refrain from holding back a sigh herself, her tense body language catching Elias’ eye. “Why are we the only ones getting lectured? Deborah was supposed to stay with us,”

“This is not about Debby,” Jean stated harshly, sending him a glare. “She wasn’t getting paid to follow you at the club, and she had every right to leave when she felt like it. John, keep going,”

“I said I don’t know anything,”

“Matthew?”

The curly-haired man sighed, his head lifting upwards just then to let his eyes meet the wall briefly. “I was talking with a girl, people started yelling, and I heard Elias talking shit about Noah’s song”

Deborah’s stomach filled with an unknown feeling when he mentioned a girl, sending her head in a spiral to ask herself what the hell was she experiencing. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“And I just couldn’t take it,” Matthew stopped, his fingers ghosting over the cuts on his knuckles. “Man, that’s a heartfelt song and you went around to talk shit about it to strangers,”

Elias kept his mouth shut, jaw clenching as his friend continued talking. “Noah and Johnny also came in, but just in time to separate us,”

“Then what happened to your face, Noah?” Jean asked, concern evident in her voice.

“I- uh… I was seeing red,” Matthew mumbled, silence filling the room soon after the words left his mouth. Deborah was left to look at a desperate Jean - clearly close to having a mental breakdown - and hope things would get better by the time morning would roll in.

Her mind, though, couldn’t focus on anything but Matthew. He looked beaten up, both physically and mentally; he looked like he was holding so much on his shoulders, so much pressure she wanted to relieve him of.

“Matthew, John,” Jean sighed, looking behind his shoulders at the two men briefly. “You can go get some sleep. You too, Debby,”

She had never shuffled out of a room that quickly in her entire life, the tension being so overwhelming she needed a breath of fresh air. Johnny and Matthew were silent as they stepped out of the room, a physical and emotional distance separating them as they parted ways.

The moment was awkward, Matthew turning around just in time to see his friend shut the door of his room behind himself, a sigh leaving his lips. His eyes met Deborah’s for a quick second, a wave of shame flowing through them.

In some way, she felt like part of that shame was directed at herself too: his snarky, cocky words were still impressed in her mind, but she could see his regret. She wished her heartbeat hadn’t started picking up, but looking in his eyes, she couldn’t help it.

He was asking for forgiveness, and who was she to not give it to him? He was the only person she couldn’t stop thinking about day and night, anyway, for some reason.

“Come with me,” Deborah whispered, her voice shallower than she had thought it would be as her hand caught his. He didn’t ask questions when she opened her room’s door, he didn’t speak a word as she led him towards the en-suite bathroom, and he didn’t run away when she made him sit on the edge of the bathtub.

More silence settled between the two of them as Debby grabbed the first-aid kit the hotel supplied, wetting a cotton ball with disinfectant before letting her hand grab Matthew’s again.

There was a soft hiss when she first let the material touch his bloody skin, his jaw clenching as he closed his eyes. “I feel like a monster,”

His words made the woman’s heart clench, her stomach turning into jelly. “You’re not a monster, Matthew,”

“I hit my best friend because I couldn’t hold myself back,” he breathed out, voice unexpectedly shaky as he kept his gaze on the tile floor. “I’m a monster,”

Deborah sighed, letting her fingers grasp his chin so he could lift his head up. Their eyes met as she prepared another cotton ball, ready to clean the cut on his bottom lip as they let silence fill the room.

Cradling his head in her hands, Debby took a few minutes to wipe some dried blood off his skin. Matthew was tired, she could tell from the way his eyes were struggling to stay open, but regret was keeping him up, keeping his brain active.

She let herself gaze at him for a small moment before patting his shoulder. “Get some sleep, Matt,” she whispered. “Really,”

He nodded gingerly, following her towards her door. “Thank you, Deb,”

“Don’t worry about it,”

He took a moment to admire her, letting one of his hands gently push a strand of stray hair out of her face. Her body heated up, heart rate quickening as she watched him leave silently, a small smile on his lips.

In a trance, Deborah went back to bed, sleep not on her agenda anymore. Her mind kept repeating the moment she had had with Matthew, every single second of it, and it felt new, unexpected.

Matthew Tkachuk was making her feel things she had never felt before, and everything was so unknown to her.

That night, Deborah struggled to fall back asleep.

-----

“You’re gonna catch a cold,”

The evening air was making Deborah’s hair flow around herself, her eyes focusing on the sunset before turning around to meet Matthew’s. A small smile formed on her lips, her arms folding over her chest. “Nah, my body won’t betray me like that,”

The chuckle that left his lips was enough to push the butterflies in her stomach back to life. His body reached Debby’s side as he focused too on the setting sun disappearing behind the New York skyscrapers.

“Truly the best time of the day,” she mumbled under her breath. “Sunsets are just so beautiful,”

Matthew sent a quick glance her way. “But the night,” was all he said, voice holding a tone of fondness as he looked in front of himself. “The night is just so beautiful,”

“The night is lonely,” the assistant pointed.

“The night is peaceful,” he corrected her, the smile on his lips so tender it made her melt. “Everyone goes to sleep at night, and it gives you time to think,”

There was a beat of silence as she took in his words, heart racing as she unconsciously scooted closer to him. The question was risky. It rushed through Deborah’s lips, and her eyes almost closed in fear of rejection. “What do you think about? At night, I mean,”

“I think about good memories,” his answer was quick, no sign of discomfort on his face. “About my childhood, or people I miss,”

He glanced her way with a smile on his lips, the air from the top of the building making his curls move slightly. “And what do you think about? At night, I mean,”

“Life, I guess,”

There was a nod from his side, his eyes turning back to focus on the landscape as another round of silence filled the distance between the two of them. Deborah’s mind started to think about his words, pushing her away from reality as she tried to keep herself at bait. You weren’t his type, and what about Taryn?

The identity of Taryn was still unknown to the girl, but something was telling her she was eventually going to find out. She was so into her own world that she barely registered the soft material of Matthew’s leather jacket slipping onto her shoulders, his eyes glancing her way.

His body leaned against the railing of the terrace, slipping unbelievably closer to hers as the two of them admired each other. “God, Deborah,” he whispered, letting one of his hands graze over her cheekbone. Her heart was beating out of her chest so loudly she feared he could hear it, his palm slowly cupping her cheek as he let his eyes admire her. “I wish I could have met you earlier,”

His lips were extremely close to Debby’s, so close she barely even paid attention to what he had said. As the words registered, she opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, but the ringing of his phone interrupted the moment.

His eyelids shut in annoyance as he slipped the device out of his back pocket, answering as soon as he could. “I’ll be down in a sec,”

He was off the railing before he even ended the call, leaving Deborah on her own on the terrace of the building that hosted Chordback’s recording label. He turned around just when she called his name, voice strained by the sudden end of just what had been about to happen.

“Your jacket, Matt,” she pointed, starting to shrug it off just so she could hand it back to him. His hand rose in the air, putting her movements to a halt.

“Keep it,” he said, smiling gingerly before opening the door to head back inside the warmth of the building. “It looks better on you anyway,”

-----

“I wanna do it again,” Johnny said from the booth, looking at Noah as he strummed lightly his bass. “I fucked up the last part,”

From her spot on the smallest - and most uncomfortable - couch she had ever seen, Deborah watched Noah nod his head, pressing a few buttons on the console. The bass player’s head started bobbing when the music started filling his headphones, eyes almost closing as he started playing his melody.

Her tired eyes fell down on her phone, the brightness of its screen almost making her curse out. It was well past midnight, and Deborah’s day had been more than busy: the boys had to record a podcast episode with a famous producer, and she hadn’t even had a moment to settle down at the studio before a call from Jean pushed her up on her feet and around New York.

Her head was pounding, but she wasn’t allowed to leave the studio until the band decided to finish their session and go back to the hotel, so she sat in silence next to Matthew. He was silent too, glancing in front of himself as the faint sound of Johnny’s bass sent him in a trance.

As Debby’s eyes struggled to stay open, she stretched her back, holding back a moan when she felt just how tense her muscles were. Her movements snapped Matt out of his daydreaming, his orbs finding hers in the dimly lit studio as she settled back into her initial place.

“You okay?” He asked, voice uncharacteristically soft as he kept his gaze trained on the assistant.

“Just tired,” was all she said, pushing out a sigh as she folded her arms over her chest. Who turned on the AC, for fuck’s sake?

“Johnny prefers working in the cold,” Matthew murmured, almost reading her thoughts. “You want me to turn off the AC?”

Deborah shook her head, trying to hide a veil of shock at his unexpected words, kindness spilling out of them like a fountain. “No, no. It’s fine, don’t worry,”

Though she had been trying as hard as she could to keep herself awake, her body found itself scooting closer to Matthew’s, his warmth making her eyelids finally close. Debby’s head dropped to his shoulder, finally letting her relax for the first time of the day. A content sigh left her lips.

Matthew’s heart was beating out of his chest, emotions he had felt just once making him shiver. One of his arms wrapped itself around the girl’s waist, holding her close and hoping the moment would never end.

She was so close, so soft in his hold he never wanted to let go.

So he closed his eyes, putting his world to a stop just so he could hold her for a little more, just so he could imagine what it would feel like to be hers.

He was woken up after what felt like hours, Noah’s smirk being the first thing he saw after the midnight nap. Deborah’s head was on his chest, eyes closed and a relaxed smile painting her lips as she peacefully slept.

“And then I’m the obvious one,” Noah joked, referring to all the chirps he had gotten for always looking smitten, when he liked someone. “Should I be waiting for a love song from you?”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Matthew hissed, a smile forming on his lips even after the chirps. “What time is it?”

“One a.m.”

“Damn,” Matthew sighed, rubbing his eyes before looking down at Debby again. “I’ll wake her up. Just wait outside for us,”

“Don’t fuck on the couch,” Noah joked, making Matthew roll his eyes. The lead shut the door behind him and Johnny, leaving Deborah and the man able to make her heart skip a beat on their own.

Matt took a moment to admire her peaceful state, one of his calloused hands cupping her cheek before pushing a strand of hair out of her face. The movements had Deborah stirring, her eyes slowly opening just to see - and feel - Matthew close to her.

With her cheeks burning, she pushed herself off of him, an awkward chuckle leaving her parted lips. “I’m, uh- I’m sorry,” Debby stuttered, running a hand through her hair. “How long was I out for?”

“An hour, maybe?”

She looked down at her phone to check the time, nodding her head when she saw the digits at the top of the screen. “Everyone is done?”

“They’re waiting outside,” he said, voice tender as he watched her rise to her feet. With a nod, Deborah grabbed her purse and let her eyes meet with his. She didn’t know what to say, so the two of them were left in silence before she muttered something and left the room in a rush, heart beating quickly against her rib cage.

By the time Debby reached the rest of the group outside - Elias still missing in action -, she was faced with grins. Nobody talked, though, and by the time she shut the hotel door behind herself, she was a nervous mess.

What the fuck had just happened?

-----

The last morning in New York was sunny. Deborah’s sunglasses barely could do their job as she sat between the band on the outside of the overpriced café they loved. The slight breeze was bringing the first few hints of summer in the busy air of the city, and the woman enjoyed her last moment in the Big Apple by taking a sip of the warm drink sitting in front of her.

It was the first time Chordback actually sat down together after the fight between Noah and Elias, and it felt refreshing. Johnny and Matthew - who was sitting beside her - were talking, just like the old times, and Elias was taking a moment to admire the city. Noah, on the other hand, wasn’t paying much attention to his background: his eyes were focused on his phone, a smile that Debby could only refer to as smitten painting his lips.

“So, what are the plans for the day, hun?” Elias caught the assistant’s attention, the pet name making her chuckle.

“Hun? Oh my God,” she giggled, pushing the conversation behind herself before opening her mouth again. “We gotta catch the flight back to Calgary and then you’re free,”

A whistle came from Johnny, happy chuckles filling their surroundings. “A day off? Wow,”

“No partying, though,” Deborah warned, pointing a finger Elias’ way, who shrugged innocently. The moment was short-lived, being interrupted by a younger fan asking for a picture. The guys all put on a smile, rising to their feet and getting in position. Noah took more time than necessary to put down his phone, but eventually joined his friends and greeted the girl, who looked like she was about to faint.

By the time the photo was taken, the girl was running off to her family holding back happy tears. The band members sat back in their places to finish their breakfast, silence thickening at the table.

Deborah’s eyes met Matthew’s, remembering what had happened during the band’s last studio session, her cheeks heating up. There hadn’t been any moments where the two of them could discuss not only the cuddling, but also the time when she had helped him clean his wounds up after the fight at the club, and Debby was feeling torn.

She didn’t know why, but in some way she didn’t want to discuss the events. She thought it was ridiculous that she couldn’t figure out what she was feeling, what Matthew was doing to her. Debby couldn’t figure out her own feelings, and figuring his out was more difficult than she had expected.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the devil himself, pushing her back to reality with his voice. “Hanifin, what the hell are you doing with that phone?” Matt teased, his signature smirk painting his lips.

“I, uh-” the lead stuttered, finally putting his device on top of the table as he looked up at the assistant and his friends. “I was just sending a text,”

“Just one?” Johnny chirped, chuckling when Noah’s cheeks turned a dark shade of red. “I think he’s hiding something from us, guys,”

“I sent the demo of ‘As Long As I’m With You’ to the person it’s written about,”

There was a beat of silence as Elias, Matthew, and Johnny all took in their lead’s words. “‘As Long As I’m With You’ as in the song we fought over?” Elias asked, voice filled with surprise as he waited for a response. Noah just nodded, biting back a smile as his eyes met with Matthew’s.

“Chucky knew,” he mumbled. “That’s why he punched you in the face when you talked shit about it,”

“Oh! That’s what he meant with ‘heartfelt’,” Elias laughed, shaking his head before breathing out a guilty sigh. “I’m sorry, man. Should have just kept my mouth shut,”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Noah said, his eyes glancing down towards his phone when the screen lit up, the guys finally finishing their breakfast.

“What’s her name, man?”

“Aleena,” just the mention of her name made the lead smile. “She’s back in Calgary,”

“And you didn’t tell us?!” Matt exclaimed, dramatically holding a hand to his chest. “This one hurts, man,”

“Did she like it?” Elias asked.

“The demo? She loved it,” Noah chuckled, cheeks turning uncharacteristically red. He gulped down his coffee, eyes glancing Deborah’s way as he stood up. “Ready to go?”

And by the time they reached the airport, the band was back as if the fights, bickering, and internal annoyance hadn’t happened. She had always been surprised at how strong their bond actually was that she found herself hurting when the thoughts of them possibly separating even crossed her mind.

The wait at the gate was not as long as the one from weeks prior, the private plane already waiting for everyone by the time they had gone through security. Deborah had to repress a groan when she realized the pilot was going to greet her, just like every time.

His dark eyes were on her before she could even walk inside the aircraft, the edges of his mouth turning upwards into a creepy smirk as he shook Johnny’s hand. It felt like a routine: Debby would greet the two kind flight assistants, share a knowing look with them before sticking her hand out to shake the pilot’s. The wink he sent her way wasn’t new, and neither was his hand squeezing her waist before he walked back to his seat.

Her eyes portrayed the usual emptiness they always did after entering the plane, and Matthew was quick to notice. That time, though, he knew why she turned the world off as soon as they’d board. He had been guessing Deborah was afraid of heights, or that flying made her sick, but he would have never guessed it was because of the pilot.

He elbowed Noah without even thinking, his eyes still glancing the assistant’s way as his best friend hissed. “What the fuck, Chucky?!”

“We need to talk,”

Noah sent Matthew a confused glare, eyebrows scrunched together as he followed the drummer’s gaze. He looked at Deborah, then back at his bandmate with a look of confusion still coloring his face. “Well, talk, then,”

“Later,” Matthew mumbled. “We’ll talk when we land, this needs to stay private,”

Noah nodded his head, trying to ignore his friend’s weird manners before pushing his earbuds back in. Matthew, on the other hand, stared at the girl a few seats away. Anger made his skin boil as he thought about the man that had harassed her. If the fucker hadn’t been driving the plane she was on, he would have already been dead.

The newfound protectiveness sent a thrill of shock through his spine, but he ignored it. Deborah didn’t deserve it, and the man was going to regret every single glance he had sent her way. You don’t mess with a Tkachuk, Matthew thought. The man was going to pay.

-----

The city of Calgary held something Deborah couldn’t quite place. In her eyes, it looked like home.

Home, though, was back in Arizona - the complete opposite of what Calgary is. With the hot sun burning your shoulders almost the entire year and the endless summers, Arizona was the place Debby went back to just for her family. She had always preferred the cold, after all.

Thanksgiving was around the corner, the Canadian air was starting to thicken with the winter cold, and home was calling. And she was single, again. It wasn’t because of her parents - they truly knew she was one to put work before anything else -, but rather the rest of her family.

Deborah had grown up knowing that her father’s side of the family was ruthless when it came to getting back home alone, and it had been bothering her ever since she had first moved out. The snarky remarks coming from her aunt and her husband had always been following Deborah around the walls of her childhood home and, no matter how hard she tried to push them away, she just couldn’t.

And, God. She hated it so much.

In some way, it made the woman want to spend the holiday on her own, away from the prying eyes of her relatives and away from the stress they caused. But she loved her family too much, and leaving them behind wasn’t an option.

When Deborah walked inside the band’s penthouse, she was met with unexpected silence. The entry hall was tidy, the guys’ respective coats hanging one next to the other; the kitchen was clean, plates and cups stored in their designated cupboard; the living room, on the other hand, wasn’t empty.

Matthew was sitting on one of the two couches, a notepad in his hands as he looked out of the window. His eyes were glancing at the gray clouds painting the sky, covering the first few rays of sunlight of the morning.

“Good morning,”

Her voice seemed to shake him out of his trance, body snapping around to meet her eyes as she slowly pushed her coat down her shoulders. “‘Morning, D,”

“Where are the guys?”

“Still sleeping,” Matthew mumbled, watching Debby’s every move as she let her purse sit on one of the kitchen stools. She made her way towards the couch, sitting down next to him as she tried to ignore the tension rising between the two of them, just like it always did.

The trip to New York had seemed to make a big difference in what their friendship - if you could even call it that - was, even if anything barely happened. Seeing him play, falling asleep on his shoulder, taking care of him after the fight - in some way, it all made a difference, and Debby was sure Matthew could tell, too.

That night she had fallen asleep in the car and he carried her to her hotel room? The tea he had brought her that one morning when she was feeling sick? And the talk. The sunset talk.

He didn’t seem to notice the way her heart beat for him and him only, he was so oblivious it made Deborah frustrated.

“How are you doing?” He asked, the soft thud of his notepad hitting the floor making the assistant bat her eyelashes and bringing her back to reality.

“I’m okay,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair as her eyes focused on him. “Just thinking about Thanksgiving,”

He chuckled. “You going back home?”

“I mean, I probably should head back to Arizona,” she sighed, shaking her head before opening her mouth again. “I’m just not ready to have the ‘oh, why can’t a pretty girl like you find a good man to marry?’ talk again,”

“Oh, God,” the man in front of her chuckled. “Been there,”

“What about you? Are you going home?”

There was a beat before his voice darkened, eyes glazing with something Deborah couldn’t quite place as his hand toyed with the hem of his shirt. “No,”

He let his answer linger in the air, the penthouse turning silent again as he stared ahead of himself. From Debby’s spot next to him, it seemed like he was in his thoughts, his lips pushed in a straight line as he let the emptiness of the house hit the two of them.

Another beat. “My family and I are not too close,”

“Oh,” she murmured, eyebrows furrowing as she let her eyes focus on something else other than his face. He looked saddened, in some kind of way, but mainly pissed. “So, uh- spending it with anyone special?”

“Oh no,” his tense jaw slowly turned back to normal as he repressed a chuckle. “I’m single,”

Then who the hell was Taryn?

He seemed to catch on to Deborah’s confused gaze, an eyebrow cocking as he looked at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” her cheeks heated up, embarrassment making her heartbeat quicken as shee looked at her fingers. The look on his face spurred the woman on, her voice becoming shallow as she spoke. “I just- I heard you talking to a girl named Taryn, so I just kind of assumed-”

His laughter interrupted her, waking up the mass of butterflies in her stomach just when his head lulled back against the couch’s headrest. “Oh my God,” he laughed, holding his stomach before looking back at her. “Taryn is my sister,”

“Oh,”

Deborah erupted in a fit of laughter too, shaking her head before letting it lean against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I thought that,”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “Some groupies went as far as to call her to tell her to leave me alone,”

The confession made her eyebrows scrunch. Girls did that to him?

Silence settled back between the two of them as Debby’s eyes focused on the city starting to wake up outside the window. The thought that crossed her mind felt wrong from the moment she even tried to phrase it. But there’s nothing worse than spending Thanksgiving on your own, was all her heart could say.

She glanced quickly at Matthew, who was scribbling something on his notepad. The light redness painting his cheeks had her heart clenching with longing, her hands tingling, begging to run through his messy curls. He was truly breathtaking, Deborah couldn’t get enough of him.

“Come to Arizona with me,” the words were rushed, unexpected. They had her surprised when they left her own mouth, and Matthew’s shock was evident as he turned his head around to glance her way.

“I-”

“Spending Thanksgiving on your own fucking sucks,” Debby pointed out. “And I won’t let you experience that on my watch,”

He laughed, shaking his head before letting their eyes meet. “I don’t want to intrude,”

“You would never intrude,” the woman said, voice gentle as she restrained herself from cradling his cheek. “And my mom has been begging to meet you guys ever since I started working for you,”

That confession made a laugh ripple out of his lips, the sound making her body feel alive. “So? Yes or no?”

There was a moment where he let his gaze meet Debby’s, his fondness hugging her warmly as she momentarily forgot how to speak.

“Only if the tickets are on me,”

She frowned jokingly, biting her lip to hide a smile before speaking. “We’re set,”

-----

“Oh my God, I missed you so much,” Deborah’s mother wept as she left her arms around her daughter’s frame, the crispy wind of Thanksgiving Eve making the afternoon air unexpectedly chilly. “I told you, you should come home more often,”

Debby chuckled at her comment, pushing herself away from her mother to introduce Matthew - her boss and her date. She was fucked. “Mom, this is Matthew. He’s the drummer of the band I work for,”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Miller. Thank you for having me,”

From the smile on her mother’s lips, Deborah knew she was sold. The older woman had never been one for tattoos, but Debby had caught her admiring Matthew’s full sleeves from the moment he had crossed her vision; he had helped his date carry her luggage, and she was sure her mom had also noticed that, hence why she was smiling at him as if he had just proposed to her only daughter.

“Come in already, guys. Grandma has just arrived, too,” she mumbled, waving a hand in the air as a signal for the two to get inside.

“Grandma?”

The sight of her sitting on the couch, eyes focused on knitting made Deborah almost tear up. Grandma was home. Her voice shook the elder out of her trance, her body slowly rising to its feet to embrace Deborah in a longing hug. “Oh, Peaches,” the nickname still held all the memories from her childhood, and her arms circling the assistant made her feel at peace. “I missed you,”

“I missed you, too, grandma,” Debby sniffled, pulling away to introduce Matt to her, too. Her grandmother’s eyes were curious as they scanned him, probably blocking out her granddaughter’s introduction to focus on him instead.

“Where are you from, son?” Her phrase - especially the name she gave Matthew, who was almost twice her height - had the youngest woman in the household repressing a giggle. Matthew, on the other hand, grew quite nervous.

“I was uh- born in Arizona, but grew up in St. Louis,”

The grandmother gave a curt nod, sitting back down on the couch and motioning for Debby to sit down next to her. Her mother joined the room with quick steps, her hand finding Matthew’s shoulder to push his eyes off of the woman that stole his breath away every passing day.

“Deb, I figured Matthew could stay in the basement? Would it be okay?”

The man in question nodded, a smile forming on his lips as he thanked Debby’s mother. He was led towards the stairs before she knew it, a reassuring smile being sent her way before she was left on her own with her grandma.

“He seems nice,” the older woman mumbled, eyes still focused on the hat she was making. “You said he plays the drums?”

“Yes, he’s great,”

There was a beat of silence before she looked up at her granddaughter, eyebrows wiggling jokingly. “You together?”

Deborah’s cheeks heated up, her head shaking quickly soon after as her eyes focused on her lap. There wasn’t a response from her grandmother, who silently went back to her previous tasks and letting her think.

What the hell were the two of them even doing?! Matthew was practically her boss, if something went wrong, she’d probably get fired, for God’s sake. Deborah’s life was literally walking on a thread: one wrong decision and she would be done.

No more working for Chordback, no more traveling with the band. No more Matt.

And she couldn’t let that happen. Her heart was beating for the drummer, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Whatever was going to happen during the holidays, she was hoping it wasn’t going to end everything between her and Matt before it even started. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

She felt like her happy ending might have been closer than she had thought.

-

The morning after Matthew and Deborah’s arrival was busier than the latter had expected. The loud noises coming from the kitchen woke her up from her deep, peaceful slumber, and by the time she made it downstairs, the house was in full swing.

Her mother and grandma were zooming around the family home, rushing around with pots and pans, not a care in the world when it came to waking up the rest of the household. Her father, on the other hand, was sitting at the kitchen island, a comical look of exasperation painting wrinkles on his face.

The stairs leading towards the basement weren’t empty either: a quite shocked - and still sleepy - Matt stood right on the last step, watching the net of nerves Deborah’s family had created unfold in front of his eyes.

“Well, good-fucking-morning,” the woman giggled, turning around just in time to catch him chuckle, his body clad in an old band tee and a pair of plaid pants she had never seen him wear. His arm lifted itself up in the air, hand signaling her to come closer before he could wrap the limb around her body, his relaxing scent filling her nostrils.

“Good morning,” he hummed, voice still hoarse after the multiple hours of sleep. “Looks pretty chaotic in here,”

“And you haven’t seen Christmas,” Debby giggled, the sound of his laughter making her heart skip a beat. “Dad’s having breakfast, I’m sure he won’t mind if we join,”

The curls on top of Matthew’s head bobbed along with his nod as he followed her towards the main source of sound - and chaos - in the household. Deborah translated her father’s grumble into what she could only guess was a ‘good morning’, and took it upon herself to make coffee for her and Matt.

Debby longingly watched him talk to her father as she waited for the warm beverage to get ready, realizing that with each day passing, she was falling for him even more. It was a shock to her, if she had to be honest. She was falling deeply in love with someone she hadn’t even shared a kiss with, but God, she was more than smitten.

The beeping of the coffee machine shocked her out of your lovesick trance, Deborah’s eyelashes batting a few times before she grabbed their mugs and headed towards the island.

“Yeah, the Oilers are definitely having a good season,” Matthew agreed to whatever her father had said. “Leafs have been doing pretty well too,”

“You’re right, son,”

“What are you talking about?” Debby asked, a smile on her lips as she sat next to Matthew.

“Hockey,” her father said, tipping his head back to finish his dark coffee. “Matthew told me his brother plays for the Senators,”

The girl’s eyes widened, searching for Matthew’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, eyes not moving from his coffee until he changed the conversation, leaving her utterly in the dark about his family situation. Deborah thought it was funny that just a few minutes prior, she was thinking she was falling in love with the man sitting beside her, when in reality she knew just a few things about his life. “So, uh- should I wear anything specific today?”

“Just something slightly elegant, mom doesn’t care too much,” she said, smiling when he nodded his head.

“Should I wear a tie?”

“Oh, God,”

“Hey, I brought one with me just in case!” He said, a hint of joking in his tone as he sipped on his coffee. “Ties are cool,”

“I’ve never seen you wear one in your life, Matt,” Deborah giggled. “And I’ve been working with you for two years,”

“Maybe I wear them in my free time, how could you know that?”

She laughed, shaking her head as the world came to a halt around them. It was just her and Matthew, joking in the kitchen at half-past-eight in the morning, voices still hoarse as they sipped on their coffee. Debby’s brain could only think that, maybe, she could get used to it.

By the time dinner rolled around, she felt nervous. She watched herself twirl one last time in front of her mirror, the flowered dress she was wearing moving with her as she breathed out a sigh.

Another Thanksgiving. Debby was secretly hoping it would be better than all the other holidays, and something in her was telling her it was going to be the best Thanksgiving of her life. Because Matthew came along.

Closing her childhood bedroom door behind herself, Deborah heard the familiar voices of her relatives coming from the first floor, her aunt’s shrill tone standing taller than the rest.

“And who’s the new addition to the family?”

Debby’s eyes widened, a muttered curse leaving her lips as she sprinted down the stairs, all the attention being lifted onto her when she almost fell face first in the middle of the living room.

“Debs! Happy Thanksgiving!”

The greetings were all quickly sent her way, followed by hugs and small talk as she greeted the new guests. Deborah’s aunt, though, didn’t take long before going back to Matthew, a mischievous look on her face as she gave him a once-over.

“Back to you, darling. New addition to the family? We haven’t met yet,”

“I’m Matthew,” Debby’s - well... - date said, a charming smile that would be able to make millions of girls swoon painting his lips. Your aunt’s hand moved in the air, spurring his presentation on in an embarrassing way. “I’m uh- I’m Deborah’s boyfriend,”

The silence that filled the room only highlighted the assistant’s shock even more. Matthew Tkachuk literally had told her entire family he was her boyfriend. What the actual fuck.

“Oh my God! And you weren’t gonna tell me, Debs?!”

Her aunt pulled her in a bone crushing hug, hopefully not noticing the panic evident on her features. “Finally! I thought you were going to stay single forever!”

Deborah pushed out a fake giggle, looking up at Matthew with confusion in her eyes. What she got in return was a wink, the smile on her fake-boyfriend’s lips spurring her to keep the act going.

“Dinner is served, everyone!”

Debby had to refrain herself from pushing out a sigh of relief, her hand lacing with Matthew’s as she tapped her mother’s shoulder. “I gotta talk to Matt, we will be back in a second, I swear,”

Without waiting for a response, Deborah pushed past the people surrounding them before reaching the closest bathroom, locking the door behind the two of them. “Matthew, what the hell are we doing?”

The chuckle that left his lips made her eyebrows furrow, arms wrapping over her chest. “This is no joke! Now my entire family thinks we’re together!”

“Let’s just act like we are, then,” he pointed, shoulders shrugging as he let his fingertips play with the edge of her dress. “You look beautiful, by the way,”

Ignoring the way her cheeks heated up and her heart started racing, Debby pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “God, why did you do that?”

“You said you didn’t wanna face the usual nosy questions, I helped with that,” Matthew smirked, his hands inching higher until they ended up holding her waist. “All we need to do is act as if we’re in love, and that’s not hard,”

Normally, Deborah wouldn’t have paid much attention to his last remark, seeing how easy it had been for Noah to fake a relationship for PR once, but his tone held something. She couldn’t quite place it, but it made it sound like the words had a deeper meaning. On the other hand, he was right: acting like she was in love with him would be easier than expected, because she looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky, and she couldn’t deny it.

Deborah smiled at the genius in front of her, though, taking one last look at his glacial eyes before letting their hands slip together.

“I knew you were trouble, Matthew Tkachuk,” but God, she loved him for it.

-

Dinner went better than expected, and for the first time in years, Thanksgiving brought a smile to Deborah’s lips. Was it because Matthew was by her side? She didn’t know. What she did know, though, was how good his arms around her felt, how addicting his lips on her cheek and temple were.

By the time her relatives left her house, Deborah was still buzzing. She had drunk a glass of wine, but she wasn’t buzzed on alcohol. She was buzzed on Matthew’s attention.

The two of them stood by her parents as they waved her aunt’s white car goodbye, his strong arm wrapped around her waist as he smiled oh so tenderly.

“Dad and I are heading to sleep,” Deborah’s mother mumbled. “We can take care of the dishes tomorrow morning,”

“Alright,” was all the daughter said. “I’ll be upstairs in a few,”

Matthew wished her mother goodnight, tugging Debby along inside the household as soon as the older woman reached the top of the stairs. His eyes filled with their familiar glimmer Debby knew too well, a smile forming on her lips as he twirled her in his arms. “We should get into acting,”

“Totally,” she giggled, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck as their eyes stayed in contact. “We slayed it,”

“I knew we would,” he admitted, head so close to hers his breath fanned over her nose. “Loving you is easier than I had expected, Deborah,”

The words were unexpected, but they engraved themselves in the woman’s mind as soon as her brain recepted them. The butterflies in her stomach were making every single muscle in her body tingle, and when one of Matthew’s hands cupped her cheek, Deborah feared her legs would give up on her.

His scent invaded her senses the second he came closer, his lips ghosting over hers as the newfound moment became sweet, tender. “Can I kiss you?”

The sudden ring of his phone snatched them out of their trance, Deborah’s lungs inhaling sharply after what felt like hours. The two of them separated, her cheeks feeling warmer than normal as she watched him look at the screen with what she could only call annoyance.

The device was vibrating in his hand, but he looked like he was contemplating on whether picking up the call or not. The screen read ‘Dad’, and the grimace on his face was what made Debby’s heart clench.

“You should take it,” the words left her mouth before she could even stop them.

“I probably should,” was all he mumbled, sending her a quick look before letting his eyes focus back on the device. Just as he swiped right, Debby pushed herself to the tip of her toes, pressing a swift, lingering kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Matthew,”

As she made her way up the stairs and towards her room, Deborah let her cold fingertips graze the spot where his hand had rested, right on her cheek. She felt like a teenager in love again, a frustrated one, though.

Though they had almost had their first kiss together twice, something had always been in the way. First Noah, then Matthew’s father. Why was everyone keeping her from kissing him?

She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him again and let their lips meet, but the universe had been thinking otherwise for what felt like ages. As Debby sat on her bed - still too happy to give up on all the newfound emotions -, she wondered what his lips would taste like, what it would feel like to be his.

After another moment of thinking, she forgot about everyone and everything and rushed down the stairs. The first floor was empty, but the lights in the basement were still casting shade over the stairs, inviting her to step closer.

As she rushed down that smaller flight of stairs too, Debby wondered if it was the right time to do it. To finally live her life a little. She swung the door open, Matthew’s light eyes rushing up from his dark phone screen to her face, a look of shock evident in them.

He sprung to his feet and caught her right before she could fall in his arms. She took a second to wrap her arms around his neck, letting their lips meet in the sweetest kiss she’d ever experienced.

His lips felt softer than clouds, so gentle against hers she thought she could faint; his arms - tight around her waist - were keeping Deborah close to his body, their warmth familiar. Everything about the moment was perfect, from the way their bodies fit together, to the way she started to struggle for breath.

They parted ways just when they couldn’t take it anymore, their foreheads meeting tenderly as they caught their breaths. “Wow,” the breathed exclamation made Debby giggle, Matthew’s plush lips painting with a smile as he admired her. “That was-”

“That was fucking awesome,” she finished his line, giggling at how childish she sounded. With a shake of her head, she let herself untangle from him, her body missing his warmth. “I uh- I probably should go to sleep,”

Deborah’s gaze was stuck on her feet, rising to meet his eyes just when his thumb and pointer finger lifted up her chin. There was a second before he leaned down to give the woman one last sweet kiss, his lips tenderly moving against hers before parting again.

“Good night, Debby,”

-

Deborah wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself as she leaned on the railing of the balcony overlooking her garden, watching the sunset longingly. The silence surrounding her was peaceful, and she felt relaxed, happy to be free for one last day.

“You’re gonna catch a cold, again,”

Debby turned around to face Matthew with a smile on her lips, jokingly rolling her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her. “I’m pretty sure colds don’t work like that,”

He chuckled, turning around to face the setting sun too. A feeling of déjà vu sent shivers down the woman’s spine, even if she knew that it wasn’t just a sensation: her and Matthew had experienced the sunset together before, it wasn’t just a feeling.

“Thank you for letting me come along,” he mumbled, a hand soothingly playing with her hair as he looked at the sky. “Your family is great,”

His words held a small hint of sadness, so subtle yet present enough to let Debby catch onto it. A part of her wanted to know what caused this sadness every time someone’s family was mentioned, the other wanted to let him take his time, talk about it whenever he was ready.

She had never been too patient in her entire life: as a kid, she’d stay awake during Christmas Eve’s night just to wake up as soon as the sun rose to open presents; as a teenager, she felt frustrated whenever she’d have to wait months to see her favorite artists in concerts. It was something she had always hated, but was never able to control.

For Matthew, though, Deborah was willing to wait.

“You know, I haven’t really had a Thanksgiving like this ever since I was sixteen,” he admitted, voice taking a gravelly tone as he avoided her eyes. “Ever since uh- the band grew famous, I guess,”

Debby watched his features take a bitter tone as he kept his gaze focused on the orange landscape. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t feel like it, Matt,”

“Someone needs to know,” he sighed, shrugging gingerly before glancing her way. “The guys know I’m not close with my family, but they don’t know why. I trust you, and I want you to know,”

Panic set Deborah’s body on fire as she realized she was the first person to know about his family situation. He trusted her.

“My dad played hockey professionally for almost twenty years, it was in my blood to follow after his footsteps,” he started, interrupting her inner panicked conversation. “I was on skates before I could even walk, had a stick in my hand before I learned how to write, skated behind a puck before I even made friends. He thought it was in my blood.

“But, fuck, when I first saw a drum set at the age of five and heard my first rock song a few days later, I couldn’t care less about hockey and what my dad wanted. I started playing at a friend’s house: his sister owned a drum kit and let me use it twice a week, and music made me happy in a way hockey couldn’t,” Matthew admitted. “I played behind everyone’s backs just so they wouldn’t get disappointed in me. I’d go to hockey practice and work my ass off to make my father happy, then I’d get on my bike and ride to my friend’s neighborhood to play the drums.

“I took music during High School, and my teacher saw me play. He wanted me to join the school’s band, but I needed my parents’ signatures for that, and I didn’t want them to know. Eventually, he accidentally told them I should have pursued my dreams and that night was a fucking mess,” he sighed. “My mom, she- she didn’t mind, she was proud of me. She was happy I was doing what I really wanted to do, even if it was behind their backs. My dad, on the other hand, was pissed that his firstborn son wasn’t following his father’s footsteps. He had never been one for music,”

Debby let one of her hands slip into his, squeezing his palm gently to send him a non-verbal message of comfort. He was safe to speak, with her. “You know, I was his pride and joy growing up. He saw me playing ever since I was a child, and when he lost all hope in me when he learned about me playing the drums, it hurt. He loves my brother and sister because they do what he did, my brother even plays professionally like his old man. I was the disappointment of the family, in his eyes.

“I barely even remember how Chordback got together, but we got famous quickly, and I moved out as soon as possible. I wanted to enjoy my life without being under his disappointed glares, you know?” He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Now I barely go home, and my mom hates it,”

There was a moment of silence as Deborah took in his story, shock filling her body as she breathed out shakily. “Matthew, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled, shrugging as he let his eyes meet hers. “Mine isn’t a sob story,”

“So, he called?” She asked, remembering Matthew’s father had called a few nights prior.

“He wished me a happy Thanksgiving. Mumbled the usual bullshit about the fact that they miss me, that I should go home to at least see my mother,” he sighed. “Same stuff Taryn said over the phone a few months ago,”

Debby bit her lip, watching his tense body as he ran a hand through his hair. She didn’t know what to say. She had never expected him to have a story like that: he always looked fine, not a worry in his eyes as he went along with the flow. Yet, so much was hidden behind the barrier that kept the world away from his fragile heart.

Debby did the only thing that seemed to make sense in her mind, which was wrap him in a hug. He didn’t reciprocate the embrace for a second, but when his arms wrapped around her waist and his head dropped to the crook of her neck, she knew he needed it.

He needed someone to stabilize him for a second, to silently tell him everything was going to be alright, even if he felt like life was not okay.

She held him until he let go of her, because she remembered her grandma’s words: you never know how much someone needs a hug, so don’t let go until they do.

And by the time the two of them went back to watch the sunset, the future looked clearer.

-----

Life went back in full swing the moment Debby set foot in Calgary, Matthew by her side. Her phone rang with a call from Jean when the two of them went to pick up their bags at the airport, and the overwhelming nerves that came with working in the music industry made their way back in her system.

Days went by before she knew it, her head living in a limbo where all that mattered was her job. And Matthew.

Thanksgiving night couldn’t leave Debby’s head, and she didn’t want it to. She found herself thinking about it at night, alone in her cold bed as she begged for some rest, but her mind always thought otherwise.

Seeing Matt at work wasn’t easy either: her hands tingled, wanting to touch him; her lips begged to be kissed again, and she couldn’t just take it anymore. Staying away from him was what she was bound to do with her job, but all she wanted was to be his.

But it almost seemed like he didn’t reciprocate the feeling. There was distance, a lack of communication that was needed between the two of them. How could she figure out what the two of them were, if he didn’t talk to her? That was what Debby kept asking herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar hand on her shoulder, Noah’s eyes the first thing Deborah saw after daydreaming. “We’re boarding,”

“Alright,” she nodded her head, inhaling sharply before rolling her suitcase behind herself. The band was headed to New York again, and her and Jean were coming along for the ride, as per usual.

Growing up, traveling was something Debby had always wished to do, especially when she had reached her teen years. Taking the opportunity to become Chordback’s PA meant that she would have been traveling non-stop, and she had been ecstatic when she landed the job.

Looking back at it, Deborah’s happiness was still there, and saying she loved her job was an understatement. Did she wish for a break every once in a while - even from traveling? Yes, but the music industry never went to sleep.

Debby followed the band towards the plane, her eyes focusing on the sunny sky until the back of a familiar hand ghosted over hers. She looked up to see Matthew’s side profile, a trail of warmth filling her chest when his skin brushed hers, the sleeves of their coats hiding the motions from everyone else surrounding them.

Shivers rushed down her spine as the cold wind pushed her hair out of her face and, eventually, Matthew left her side, her high hopes of seeing any kind of emotion from him slowly lowering. Debby walked up the few small stairs that led inside the jet, shock stopping her right on the last step.

The woman that was greeting the team was smiling widely, her brunette hair pulled into a tight bun as she sported the sharpest uniform Debby had ever seen. She looked beautiful, confidence spilling out of her body as she shook the personal assistant’s hand.

“I’ll be your new pilot,”

A smile broke out on Deborah’s face, so wide she was scared it might get stuck there. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

By the time she reached her spot next to Jean, she felt quite confused, though. Why had the pilot been fired? Debby was sure nobody had caught onto the way he had been acting with her and how uncomfortable he had her feeling, so why was he gone?

Jean seemed to read her mind. “Matthew fired the old pilot right before Thanksgiving,” she whispered as she touched up her signature red lipstick. “He said the guy was a perv to the flight assistants,”

Deborah nodded her head along, eyes meeting with Matthew’s. She knew he had been listening to her conversation with Jean all along by the smug look on his face. “Yeah Jean, I also beat him up. Just thought you should know,”

The lipstick in her hand almost fell to the floor, a smudge of red painting the corner of her mouth as her eyes widened. “You what?!”

“I gave him his last paycheck to make him keep his mouth shut, don’t worry,”

“Matthew, that’s even worse!” She screeched, hands shaking as she searched through her purse to find her phone. “Oh my God-”

“The guy deserved it, Jean,” Matthew continued, voice becoming serious. “He was harassing the assistants and- and Deborah,”

The attention inside the plane shifted towards the woman in question, her heart beating out of her chest as an infinite amount of questions rushed through her mind. How did he notice? Had it been that obvious?

“Debby, is it true?” Jean said in a whisper, shock evident in her voice as her eyes stayed on the assistant’s features.

“I-I mean,” she stuttered, shrugging slightly. “It wasn’t anything too big, but it sure was creepy,”

“You could have told me sooner,” the manager said, her warm hand resting on Deborah’s forearm in a reassuring manner. “I would have tried to fire him as soon as possible,”

Debby gave her another shrug before shutting up, not wanting to discuss the matter any further. She felt embarrassed enough to let a man do that to her and not react, but when Matthew - the man she had more than a crush on - found out about the entire situation? She had never been more embarrassed.

She popped her earbuds in and watched the land fly past her from her window, hoping that everyone would forget about the matter by the time they landed. It wasn’t the case, though.

It was almost night by the time the band arrived in New York, to say Debby was more than tired to reciprocate the kind smiles coming from the hotel clerks was an understatement. Her room card was handed to her after just a few minutes, and the thought of crashing on a bed almost had her yawning.

Matthew walked past her, sending a small smile her way before the doors of his elevator closed. She had been successful at blocking any thought regarding the flight, but the questions still kept her curious, even in her tired state.

Deborah headed towards her room, catching one last glimpse of the drummer disappearing behind her neighboring door. She blew out a sigh, getting inside her room and letting her suitcase fall to the floor, ready to slip into comfortable clothing and get in bed.

With the covers up to her chin, though, her eyes just couldn’t close. Debby found herself staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city still awake at the ungodly hour, just like her.

As pathetic as it sounded, she wanted nothing more than to know how Matthew had found out, or even why he had taken it upon himself to fire the pilot. Why had he been so selfless?

The questions kept her awake, and all she wanted was just to sleep. She knew, though, that her body wouldn’t rest until her mind shut down, too.

She pushed the covers away, slipping a pair of slippers on and leaving the room sluggishly, eyes tired. As Deborah stopped in front of Matthew’s door, she felt suddenly awake. Nerves started to make her anxious, and she had to push herself to knock before she could rush back to her room with her tail between her legs.

There was a second before the door opened, Matthew looking quite tired too as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Deb?”

“How did you find out?”

From the look on his face, Debby knew she didn’t need to elaborate her words, to explain what she really wanted to know.

“Come in,” was all he mumbled, opening the door wider for her. She followed his instruction, entering the room that looked the exact copy of hers before sitting down on the corner of his bed.

There was a moment of silence as he stood in front of her, tattooed arms folding over his chest as he bit his bottom lip. For a second, Deborah’s body lit up on fire, craving to feel his lips pressing against hers. She came back to reality and cooled down when she remembered why she was in his room. She needed answers.

“I uh- I noticed you always disassociated when we boarded the plane,” Matthew started, the look on his face turning serious when his eyes met with hers. “And at first I thought you were just scared of heights or something, but it didn’t make any sense,

“Then the other week I boarded the plane behind you and that motherfucker started hitting on you,” his voice became darker, a hint of protectiveness in his tone Debby had never found before making her hands tremble. “And it was clear you weren’t reciprocating,”

“You didn’t need to do that for me, you know?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted. “I couldn’t stand seeing you like that. I have a sister, and I wouldn’t be able to be at peace with myself if I knew something like that was happening to her and didn’t do anything to keep her safe, and same applies to you,”

Deborah tried not to acknowledge the warmth inside her chest as her eyes fell to her lap, a sigh leaving her lips. “It wasn’t worth it, Matthew. If people find out you hurt him, there will be chaos,”

“Everything I do for you is worth it, Debby,” he whispered, pushing her chin upwards so their eyes could meet, his orbs laced with fondness. “Even if it means I’ll have to punch a perv and ruin my career. Why can’t you understand that?”

The woman shook her head, repressing a small smile before sighing again.

“I need you to be safe, Deborah,” he whispered, voice as tender as a cloud as he spoke to her. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you without me even noticing,”

The words had tears well up in her eyes, but she fought the urge to let them streak down her face. Nobody had ever cared that much about her, and she felt full of something she couldn’t quite place. Love? Fondness?

“Promise me you’ll stay safe,” he asked, voice shallow as he cupped her cheek.

“I promise,”

His body inched closer to hers, the only thing separating the two of them being a thin layer of air. His lips fell on Deborah’s after a second, sweetly carefree as she got lost in his scent, his presence.

He was kissing her. She felt more than confused from all the times she felt like he had been avoiding her, but he was kissing her, and she ignored any red flag she could have possibly thought about.

Debby wished to never let go, but her body reminded her that she was more than tired by making her legs give out on her, her embarrassed laugh ending the kiss. “I’m uh- I’m exhausted from today, I should probably go to sleep,”

Matthew nodded, a silent smile painting his slightly swollen lips as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course you will,”

-----

Tomorrow was quite eventful, though. Deborah woke up late, the sound of her alarm not being loud enough to wake her from her deep slumber; she stumbled around her room to get dressed up, sending a quick text to the band to tell them she was going to be late to breakfast, receiving a string of messages explaining they were going to wait for her.

When she left her room, Debby was still half asleep. She registered the voices of the guys, and she registered Matthew’s soft smile, but she went on autopilot when she followed the boys towards the breakfast spot.

Her rough, real awakening happened in front of the café, where an unfamiliar girl was waiting for them - or, at least, Noah. She was tall, hair a beautiful shade of blond as a breathtaking smile painted her lips, directed to Noah and Noah only. It looked like she only had eyes for him, and from the way the lead didn’t shy away from her attention, Debby realized who she really was. Aleena.

There was a brief moment where they hugged, sharing a laugh as Noah bent down to press a kiss on her cheek before turning around to face Deborah and the rest of the band. As the assistant looked around in pure shock, she noticed that Johnny, Matthew and Elias all shared her same expression.

“Guys, this is Aleena,” Noah said, holding back laughter at the looks on their faces. “She’ll be joining us for breakfast, I hope this isn’t a problem,”

“Uh, no! Not at all!” Debby exclaimed, pushing herself out of her trance to shake the girl’s hand. “I’m Deborah, the band’s personal assistant,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Aleena said, a gentle smile on her lips. The few minutes that followed the encounter were spent with introductions, a thin layer of shock still coating the air as everyone got inside the café to place their orders.

“Damn,” Matthew whispered from behind Debby, chuckling as they queued behind other people. “I wasn’t expecting him to introduce her this soon,”

“Me neither,” the assistant admitted, looking at him with a smile. “She’s nice, though,”

He nodded, agreeing with her as she moved forward, repeating her order in her head. “You think they’re going public?” Deborah asked, checking her phone for the time before looking back up, waiting for an answer.

“I think Jean is in the dark about this as much as we were,” Matt mumbled, letting his hands rest on her shoulders subconsciously, her heart skipping a beat at his touch. “So I think he has to tell her first,”

Debby nodded her head, a smile forming on her lips when she came face-to-face with the barista. She placed her order calmly, reaching for her wallet when the moment to pay arrived.

“I’ve got it,”

Matthew placed his order and paid for the both of them, not even giving the assistant enough time to fight and pay for her own stuff. “Well, thank you, then,” she said, jokingly rolling her eyes as they grabbed their drink and headed for their table, the drummer sitting next to her after a few seconds.

He had talked to her, paid for her drink, touched her shoulder. At that point, Debby was asking herself where they really were standing. There were moments when she felt like a stranger to him, when he barely even sent a smile her way; other times - mostly behind closed doors -, it felt like she was his, but just when it was needed, not always.

The empty table became quite crowded after everyone sat down with their breakfast. “So, new album and tour this year, boys,” Elias smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. “Missed that shit,”

“Album drops in a month, so you’ve still got some time to put some final touches,” Deborah pointed out. “Then tour is in a couple of months,”

A few nods came from around the table, her eyes settling on Aleena as she silently sipped on what Deborah could only guess was a latte. “Are you coming along, Aleena?”

The new addition seemed to be shocked by Debby’s question, almost choking on her drink as she opened her mouth to speak. “I uh- we haven’t really talked about it, yet,” she said, looking up at Noah with so much admiration it made the assistant’s heart clench.

Debby nodded, smiling her way before sipping her drink, a hint of jealousy of what the couple had sending shivers down her spine. Breakfast went faster than she had expected as she found herself talking to Noah’s girlfriend with the group and enjoying her company, and by the time they left the place, Deborah was sad to leave Aleena behind.

The band needed to get to the studio to discuss the upcoming release and tour, though, and the group and Aleena had to part ways.

“I think we should celebrate,” Elias pointed out, leaning on his chair with his arm behind his head. “Have a few drinks, go to a club,”

“We haven’t even released the news, Elias,” Jean sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Why not, though? We could just have a party before everything gets released, just us,”

Jean spit out a laugh at the ‘just us’, making the guitarist scowl jokingly. “Back to the album. It’s done, then?”

“Almost,” Noah corrected. “We could pull an all-nighter tonight and just finish it,”

Matthew nodded, followed by Johnny and Elias. Everything seemed to be on board, and Deborah felt happy. The band was back to normal: the fights had come to a halt, they were about to release their newest - and best, by far - album, and they were going on tour again.

One thing was holding back her happiness, though, and it was confusion.

What the hell was happening with Matthew?

The walk from the café to the studio had been enough to send her in a spiral of thoughts, finally realizing that what was going on between the two of them wasn’t quite right. For some reason, she wanted nothing more but to know where she stood in his life, if she mattered or if she was just another groupie.

Bitterness filled her mouth as she found him staring, embarrassment making her feel numb. It had taken her so long to realize that he was playing a game, and she felt stupid.

Debby lifted herself up from her chair, grabbing her purse. “I’ll head out to take a breather,”

And when he didn’t even spare her a glance, she knew she needed to figure out what was really happening between the two of them.

Deborah wasn’t another fucking groupie, that she was sure of.

-

“Alright, we’re almost done, guys,” Noah mumbled, eyes cast on the laptop sitting in front of him as Johnny stood behind him, arms folded over his chest.

“Final touches?” Elias popped from the bathroom, still drying his hands with a paper towel.

“Yeah,” Matt murmured. The drummer was sitting on the couch right in front of Deborah’s, a look she couldn’t quite read painting his features.

The all-nighter the guys had pulled had been going on for hours, and she was quite tired. The moon was peeking over a thick set of curtains, wishing to get her attention by painting a white streak inside the studio. Her head was pounding, but she wanted to assist to the start of Chordback’s new era. Sleep wasn’t on her schedule, at least until the band finally was done.

The late hour was taking a toll on everyone, but even through their almost bloodshot eyes, Debby could tell the guys were more awake than they had ever been. The air felt exciting, and she felt like she had nothing to lose.

“And we’re done,”

Noah’s words had the entire room in silence, even the rustling of the wind outside came to a halt when he spoke. Debby’s heart raced, a smile forming on her lips as she looked up at the lead, nothing but respect in her eyes.

“Holy fucking shit-” Elias whisper-yelled, running a hand through his messy hair before breaking the silence with a shocked laugh. “Holy shit-”

“We’re done!” Johnny exclaimed, his voice louder than his bandmate’s.

“Fuck yes,” Matthew smirked, throwing a fist in the air in celebration before pulling Noah in a hug. “We did it, man,”

Deborah congratulated the boys, hugging each one of them like a proud little sister before she got to Matthew, her heart clenching. Where the hell did she stand? “Good job, Matt,” she smiled awkwardly, leaning in to give him a quick side hug.

“Deb-”

“Should we pop a bottle open?” Elias asked, his frame hunched over the minibar. When he rose back to his full height, he was holding a bottle of champagne, his familiar smirk keeping the left corner of his mouth up.

“Hell yes!” Noah chuckled, looking around to find some flutes only to find himself helpless: there weren’t glasses to celebrate with. Debby didn’t need him to even send a glance her way, her hands already gathering her stuff.

“Debby, can we-”

“I’ll go get someone for you,” she said to the lead, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I was heading out anyway,”

“Already? Darling, this is the best part and you’re leaving,” Elias said, voice holding the flirty tone that she knew he couldn’t even control.

“I’m sure we can celebrate when the dates will be released,” Deborah winked his way, opening the door and stopping right before she could walk inside the fancy hallway. She turned around, facing all of them before pointing a finger their way. “Don’t do anything stupid,”

“Yes, ma’am,” was the only answer she could hear as she stepped out of the room, reaching the closest desk where Maria - the kind receptionist she grew to be friends with - was smiling, not a trace of tiredness in her dark eyes.

“Maria, can you please send some flutes to Chordback’s studio?” She asked, slipping her coat on just as some footsteps started to sound behind her. “They just finished their album,”

“Of course. Heading out?”

“Yes,” she sighed, stopping in her tracks just when she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

“Deborah, wait,”

Matthew was rushing down the hallway, hair stuck in an unusual nest as he sported a confused look. Another sigh left Debby’s lips, her eyelids closing as she turned around to face him. “What, Matthew?”

“What’s up with you? Did I do something wrong?”

“What do you mean what’s up with me?”

“You’ve been acting weird, today,” he pointed out. “You were okay this morning, and then you gave me the cold shoulder the entire day. Really, what the hell have I done?”

“What the fuck are we doing, Matt?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he received a question, instead of an answer. His mouth opened but closed again, only to leave the woman with silence. She took it upon herself to keep the conversation going. “Because our points of view are clearly not the same,”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?”

The pet name made Deborah flinch, her heart doing a forbidden cartwheel as she cursed herself for even feeling that way during an argument. “I’m talking about the fact that we kissed on Thanksgiving, you protected me from that fucking asshole of a pilot, asked me to promise to be safe, and I still don’t know whether you want this to happen or not!” The words came out louder than she had expected, but she didn’t care. She was exasperated and she needed to know. “And, for God’s sake, don’t call me sweetheart,”

Deborah was faced with another moment of silence, Matthew’s face taking an expression she couldn’t quite read. She had never heard silence that loud, and his lack of words was enough to answer every single question of hers.

“I don’t have time for your silence, I’m heading out,” Debby spat out, clutching her bag closer before muttering her next words. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

When she had first thought about confronting Matthew, she thought it wasn’t going to affect her. But by the time she left the tall skyscraper, remembering the conversation the two of them had had on its top at sunset, she couldn’t tell if the wetness on her face was formed by the rain or the tears.

She felt empty, even if the argument was for the best. She had done nothing to deserve to get played by a man like Matthew - rich, with nothing to lose - and she knew her worth. But God, did it hurt.

Deborah’s hopes had been over the roof from the start, but he had just led her on, like men like him do with groupies. He needed to figure out what he felt and where he wanted things to go, because she already knew where she stood about that.

Noah and Aleena were happy, so happy. They looked like they were fitted perfectly for each other. Naively, she had thought she and Matthew could have been the same.

But clearly, a happy ending in her love life still wasn’t planned.

-----

“Okay, so Rolling Stones interview on the fifth?” She asked Jean, eyes stuck on her laptop as she scrolled through Chordback’s schedule. “The day after the album release? Wow,”

“Yeah, they were begging us to be the first ones to get an interview,” Jean sighed, sipping on her coffee before looking down at her own papers. “Then we have a few more interviews,”

“And all the radio interviews during-”

“Flowers for Deborah?”

The words had the assistant frowning in confusion, her eyes turning up to see a delivery man standing on the doorway of the meeting room. He held a large bouquet of flowers, the composition looking lovely even from the distance.

Debby rose from her chair with uncertainty clear in her features, grabbing the bouquet from his larger hands. “You sure it’s for Deborah? I haven’t received flowers ever since graduation,”

The man chuckled, the smile not quite reaching his eyes as he checked his watch, probably in a rush. “100% sure. Have a nice day, ma’am,”

He was out of eyesight before she could even thank him - or ask him to check again -, her eyes focusing on the gift in her hands as the room filled with silence. Who the hell could have sent her flowers? A small whistle brought the woman back to reality, making her turn around to face Jean. “Secret admirer?”

Was it her ex? “I didn’t even know I had one,”

Deborah’s fingers caressed the delicate petals until something sharp came in contact with her skin. The small piece of paper was looking up at her as if it was begging to be read, her heart hammering as she let her fingertips graze over it.

I know this isn’t much, but it is the start. - M

“Oh my God,” she muttered under your breath, sighing loudly. Matthew?

And he didn’t lie in the note: with each and every passing day, gifts were waiting for Debby at her hotel door, at the recording label, even in her bathroom. She had received multiple bouquets of flowers, a cute tote bag she had seen on a specific Etsy store and mumbled about for weeks, skincare products she still was missing, and what the hell?

Every single present was paired with a message written in Matthew’s chicken scratch, his words meaningful even through paper, and what the fuck was happening?!

Jean would strangle out a laugh every time she’d see a new gift waiting for Deborah, muttering about the fact that not even her ex-husband was as passionate about forgiveness after cheating as Matthew was. Though she looked completely fine on the outside, Debby didn’t know how to feel.

In some ways, she felt childish for even arguing with him: he was a busy man, he didn’t have time for relationships. At the same time, though, she felt like she deserved more than to be played like a game, like she was nothing more than a stranger to him.

Certainly, getting spoiled by the man she almost yelled at really didn’t help with making Deborah feel like what she did was right, especially since it looked like he was trying his everything to get one last chance.

“Are you ever going to forgive this poor secret admirer?” Jean asked, eyes not even leaving her paper as Debby sat in front of her, miserably looking at the pins she had just received. The pastel-colored items she had liked on Instagram just a few days prior felt cold in the assistant’s hands, and it wasn’t the first time she’d started questioning her life choices. “He looks like he’s desperately trying to win you back,”

“And he is,” Deborah sighed, burying her face in her hands before looking up at the ceiling. “I feel like it was stupid of me to start a fight, you know?”

“Why don’t you just talk to him, then?” In some ways, the assistant was thankful Jean didn’t know Matthew was the main character of the conversation.

“Because I’m scared he’ll hate me,”

The woman laughed loudly, making Deborah turn as small as an ant right in front of her. “Open your eyes, will you, girl? The man is whipped. A man who doesn’t know a woman’s worth wouldn’t chase or wait for her,”

Her words engraved themselves in Debby’s mind, their truth so candid she couldn’t even question it. She remembered what her grandma had told her after her first big heartbreak: there’s plenty of fish in the sea, but Deborah knew her gran’s advice wouldn’t apply with Matthew’s situation.

“I just- I don’t know what to do,”

“Has he been good to you? Has he treated you well?” Jean asked, her eyes boring into Debby’s when she nodded her head. “Then don’t think and do whatever your heart tells you to do,”

The assistant watched her for a swift second, lifting herself up from her chair and grabbing her purse. “I’m heading off,”

“Use protection!” Jean yelled behind her, a laugh leaving her lips before she mumbled under her breath. “God, when did I start being so poetic?”

With her heart hammering against her rib cage, Debby rushed through the busy streets of New York, meeting Matthew being the only thought on her mind. To her luck, the hotel the band was staying in was not too far away from their studio, and by the time she opened her room door to get rid of her coat, she wasn’t too exhausted.

She was confused, though. Sitting right under her feet was a piece of paper, the writing so familiar. She grabbed it from the floor, skimming through the words before realization struck her like lightning.

It was a song.

Matthew had written her a song.

Tears welled up in Deborah’s eyes as she read, hands shaking as she bit her lip. She couldn’t let him go.

It was a love song, the words so gentle and heart-clenching. Admiration, love, and passion were spilling out of them in waves Deborah wasn’t ready to let go of yet, so she read it another time. And then another, and another, and another.

She walked out of the room with tears streaming down her face - not caring if other guests saw her in the meantime - still holding the notebook page in her hand. As she faced his door, something inside her seemed to turn on: nervousness.

What if he wasn’t at the hotel? What if her silence had made him give up?

All her questions got an answer when Matthew opened the door, a tired look on his face. His hair was a mess, and he didn’t look like his normal self, like Matthew.

“Deborah?”

“You wrote me a song?”

The drummer sighed, opening the door wider to let the woman in. “I uh- I started writing it a few months ago, when everything started, you know-”

His room was dark, but Debby could make out his half-packed suitcase, his clothes sitting messily all over the floor. The thought made its way in her head, but it seemed so out of character for Matthew that she couldn’t even believe it was real. The whole conversation about the song dropped. “You- are you leaving?”

“I have no reason to stay here,” he sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair before slightly cleaning up. “Album is done, and we have a few weeks before our first interview. Also, I kind of grasped the two of us are actually done, so I really didn’t have a purpose here,”

His lonely words had Deborah’s heart clenching, her smaller hand clutching his as she turned around to face him. “I love you,” she breathed out shakily, the three-worded sentence she had been thinking about for months finally slipping out of her parted lips. “I love you so much, and I fucked up,”

Matthew looked shocked as he took in her words, eyes slowly widening. “Deb-”

“I know it’s too soon, you don’t have to say it back, but I felt like you should have known,” she said, breathing out a sigh of relief as a weight she didn’t know she was holding was pushed off her shoulders. “You’re a busy man, relationships probably aren’t what you want at the moment, and it wasn’t my place to get pissed off,”

“I love you, Deborah,” he admitted. “I wasn’t kidding when I said that loving you was easier than I had expected,”

Another set of tears had her eyes burning, her hand intertwining with his as she looked up at him. “I’ve never been good with words, or emotions, and that’s why there was miscommunication between us,”

“Fuck-” Deborah closed her eyes, guilt rushing through her. “I’m fucking awful, this is all my fault,”

“Hey, it was bound to happen, at some point. To be honest, I probably should have made it clear that I loved you a long time ago, I don’t know what was holding me back,” Matthew said, gently cradling her face. “But we’re here now, and we’re fine,”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, emotions spilling from her words as she watched him through her teary gaze. “I’m so sorry,”

“I don’t want you to be,” he murmured back, letting his thumbs brush a few tears away. There was a beat as his warm breath fanned over her features, her eyes focusing on his stormy ones as silence settled between them. She was in his arms, the two of them were okay. “Debby?”

“Hm?”

“I want the world to know how much you mean to me,” he whispered in her ear, his voice sending shivers down her spine. “I want to make you mine,”

“Say the words, Matt,” Deborah murmured, arms wrapping around his neck as her lips ghosted his. “Say the words and I’ll be yours,”

There was a beat, a long one, before Matthew let his lips brush hers in a gentle - but desperate - kiss. The drummer’s hands were everywhere as the two of them kissed, not a worry in the world as her back hit the soft comforter of the room’s bed.

“Be mine, Deborah,” Matthew breathed out when his lips left hers, his orbs maintaining eye contact. “I’ll find a way to give you my world,”

She bit her lip, smiling as she watched the man in front of her - the man she loved - offer her his love with just the power of his words.

“You already do, Matt,” Debby whispered, bringing him closer to press another kiss to his slightly-swollen lips. “I’m yours,”

-----

“Why the fuck am I nervous? I’m not even going on stage,” Deborah mumbled, words coming out rushed as she stood outside the green room with Aleena, her friend’s laughter filling her ears.

“They’ve been doing this for years, hun. They’re probably not even nervous themselves,” Noah’s girlfriend said, voice gentle as her arm wrapped around Debby’s. “And we both know they’re going to kill it,”

“That’s true,” the personal assistant nodded her head, taking a sip of her water just as the door of the room opened, Chordback coming out looking as mesmerizing as ever. They were a mess of tattoos and pearly white smiles, ready to take on the first stage of the tour and make the crowd go wild.

Noah, in his old-school-love fashion, wrapped Aleena in his arms, owning a little squeal as he lifted her off the floor. “Put me down, idiot!”

Elias and Johnny, too busy talking to each other about their improvised solos, didn’t even glance Deborah’s way, heading towards the stage by following the staff. Matthew, on the other hand, took a moment to let his eyes focus on his girl.

“You look beautiful,” he said, voice low as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Debby’s sundress clung to her body the way she knew he loved, and the smile on his face was enough to make the butterflies in her stomach start their never-ending dance.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she giggled, taking his hand and leading him towards the side of the stage, where everyone was standing. The other band that was opening the concert was still going strong, the crowd enjoying the background music as they waited for Chordback to start their tour with a bang.

The last few notes of a song she had heard many times before owned claps and screams from the public, a few whistles also shaking the arena. Debby stood next to Aleena as she smiled, the feeling of hearing the public again making the assistant’s legs almost give up on her.

She had started her job when the band was already almost at the end of their second tour, and it had been a chaotic way to start her first job in the music industry. She hadn’t been able to get to know the band members, and she hadn’t been able to enjoy even a bit of traveling.

That time, though, it was different. She was there as Chordback’s personal assistant, but also as Matthew’s girlfriend. The experience itself was going to be new, unexpected.

“Good luck,” she told Matt just as the opening band started to leave the stage. Debby leaned up on the tip of her toes, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I don’t need that,” he smirked, winking down at her before kissing her again, this time passionately. “I already have my lucky charm with me,”

Deborah shook her head, pushing out a giggle as he backed off, tugging the drumsticks from his back pocket. “Cheesy, Matthew,”

“What do you expect from me?”

As the stage grew dark, the band entered the stage, filling their designed spots just as a few yells and cheers filled the air. The first sound came from Matthew’s drumsticks, and the place lit up as the opening song started, the song that had brought the newest album to the top of the charts: Aleena’s song.

Matthew smiled Deborah’s way gingerly as he started to play, her heart skipping a beat. As she watched him play, she couldn’t exactly tell why all the fondness inside her body seemed to come out just then. It felt strange.

Though after a few moments of wondering, she realized what it really was. Proudness. Deborah was proud of the little kid that snuck out of the house to practice the drums in a house five blocks away, she was proud of the teenager that followed his dreams even when his father was disappointed in him. She was proud of Matthew and the man he had become.

She was proud of him, and she loved him, more than she loved herself.

Matthew was her home, her safe place. He was a part of the life she was hoping to bring along in the future, and he was the person she wanted to wake up next to every morning.

Back at her childhood home during Thanksgiving, he had said that loving her was easier than he had expected.

He hadn’t realized, though, that loving him was the easiest part of Deborah’s life. A part that she was willing to carry with her for the rest of her life.

Taglist: @thirstyybitch​ @bellaguarneri​ @boqvistsbabe​ @trashforbarzal​ @tonguetiedstan​ @keithseabrook27​ @heatherawoowoo​ @tysonsjosty​ ​

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl x reader #calgary flames #hockey imagine

[stu-dying-forlife]

WOOOO LET'S GO PART 2

✨With most schools, colleges and unis closed around the globe and most studyblr students now having school at home I thought I would create a challenge to help everyone stay focused and productive and also to connect with people so even though most people are self-isolating, we don’t feel lonely✨

✨Info✨

Because no one really knows when we’re going to be able to go back to schools and I know it will depend very much on where you live, I’m going to do a month of daily ‘challenges’ starting on Monday 23rd March 2020 but if the quarantine keeps going I’ll try to add as the weeks/months go on

I want to see what y’all are posting so please use the tag #2020 quarantine challenge and I’ll track this tag and reboot as much as possible!

On this note, I will reblog basically everything even if you don’t think it is ‘aesthetic’ cause I love seeing how everyone does their notes and stuff so please get involved 💕

✨Week 1 - Questions✨

Mon - Have you made a study schedule to help you study at home?

Tue - How are you being taught your lessons? (google classroom, teams etc.)

Wed - What’s your favourite study snack?

Thu - How are you keeping active?

Fri - What is your favourite subject/topic to study at the moment?

Sat - Where in your house is your favourite place to study?

Sun - What are you doing to relax?

✨Week 2 - Pictures✨

Mon - Take a picture of your desk/study space

Tue - Take a picture of the book you are currently reading

Wed - Take a picture of your most colourful notes

Thu - Take a picture of the pens/highlighters that you could not live without

Fri - Take a picture of the view outside your window

Sat - Take a picture of a meal you’ve cooked or something you’ve baked

Sun - Take a picture of some of your art or doodles

✨Week 3 - Questions✨

Mon - What is your favourite food to cook or prepare?

Tue - If you could go anywhere in the world for a week, where would you go?

Wed - What is your biggest goal for this year? Have you done anything so far to achieve this?

Thu - What is the song that makes you happy no matter what?

Fri - What is your favourite TV programme at the moment (on Netflix etc)?

Sat - Where is your favourite place in the world (eg a city you’ve been to, a restaurant, or a particular hiking spot)?

Sun - What is your favourite joke?

✨Week 4 - Tips advice ✨

Mon - What is your biggest tip for staying focused?

Tue - What is your biggest tip for not getting cabin fever?

Wed - What would be your advice to you from five years ago?

Thu - What is the best advice you’ve ever been given (e.g. from a teacher of friend)?

Fri - What is your biggest tip for organising your study space/study materials?

Sat - What is your best tip on how to relax?

Sun - What is you biggest tip to someone starting to learn your major/favourite subject/degree?

✨This is the first month but I might add to this later as the quarantine continues. Let’s all support each other through this difficult time✨

#2020 quarantine challenge

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story Pt 19 - Sci Fi

The new part is here. I've struggled with this story a little bit recently, but I wanted to continue this, to share it with you.

Master Post linked here

Enjoy!

_________________________

“Bel…”

“BEL!”

The world around me was pitch black, empty except for voices I didn't recognize, shouting a name I couldn't remember. I blinked, trying to clear my vision without success.

“Hello?” My anxious shout faded into the nothingness around me.

“I have to do it, Bel. It’s how the story goes.” A blurry figure stood in front of me, his facial features unclear behind his blond hair, but his tone contained frustration and regret. “You know what happens to a world when the story is incomplete. Sacrifices have to made.”

“Who are you…?”

“That’s our fate, we just have to accept that.” He faded away into the darkness, leaving me alone again.

“Come back! Explain what you meant!” I screamed at the disappearing figure. “WHAT SACRIFICE? WHAT FATE?!”

"YOU MUST ACCEPT YOUR FATE."

“Are you lost?” A new voice spoke up, strange, yet completely and utterly familiar.

I spun around, but there was no one behind me. “I’m… I’m lost.”

“No matter where you go, who you become… I’ll find you, Bel. I promise.” The voice was a whisper in my ear. “Fate can’t tear us apart. I won’t let it. Even if I have to destroy fate itself.”

“But I can’t find you. I don’t remember who you are!” I was crying, my tears disappearing into the surrounding mist.

“I’ll find you.” The words were quieter, as if the owner of the voice was fading away.

“DON’T LEAVE ME!”

“I promise.”

“NOT AGAIN!”

"You must accept your fate."

"Bel..."

"You must.."

“…I promise…”

_________________________

“LIAM!”

I woke up, screaming a name that disappeared from my mind as soon as the sound as faded, tears and sweat staining my cheeks.

I curled up into a ball, my head resting on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

Who am I?

Finding no answers, I eventually steadied my nerves, getting up, showering and changing. I looked up at the clock on the wall, wincing as I realized that I was running late for class.

Great, now I’m going to miss breakfast, and I'm starving.

I put on my uniform jacket, lamenting silently my lack of time to fill my empty stomach. As I left my dorm, however, my eye caught something sitting on the floor right outside my door. It was a small plate with a peeled apple and a note with Alaira’s name on it.

I thought Alaira was supposed to be loner… This has to be a trap, right?

It had been several weeks since I woke up in this strange world. It couldn’t be more obvious that she didn’t have any true friends or allies. No one who would care enough to send breakfast, definitely.

Maybe it’s from whoever has been following me around?

Since the second day, I had noticed a shadowy presence following me at a distance. Whoever it was, they never attempted to try to speak to me, or interfere with me in ay way. But it was always nearby, always watching.

So now they’ve upgraded to leaving me food?

I picked up the apple, looking around, and scanned it with the personal computer on my wrist, which showed no drugs or other abnormalities.

Well… I am hungry, which outweighs the possible grim outcome of death by poison, I suppose.

Shrugging mentally, I took a bite. The taste was sweet. I sighed with satisfaction and took another bite. As I chewed, a thought occurred to me, confusing me all the more.

How did they know I like peeled apples?

As far as I could remember, Alaira had never liked apples. It was considered an ancient fruit, more of an oddity than a dietary staple. She had tried it once or twice and hadn’t been impressed.

But I liked it…

I liked apples a lot… but only peeled ones. It was something almost instinctive I had felt whenever I thought about the fruit. But… I hadn’t eaten any apples since I woke up as Alaira.

So how do they know? Does this sci fi story come with mind readers?

I took another bite, feeling confused.

_________________________

“Why the hatred for the apple peel?”

The young man seemed genuinely curious from his tone of voice as he handed me a freshly peeled fruit.

I shrugged, taking a bite. “You try living as a princess in a lower fantasy realm. I bit into a poisoned apple once and the inside was glowing green.” I shuddered. “Ever since then I can’t stand to bite into an apple with the peel still on.”

The man had already started peeling another fruit, and paused in his actions. “Did the prince have to kiss you to break the spell?”

“Why, are you jealous?” I grinned.

“N-no… I’m just asking.” His head hung down, as he seemed to stare intently into the apple in his hands.

I patted his head. “I took an antidote ahead of time. Didn’t fall asleep. Instead, I beat the crap out of the witch.”

He laughed at that. “Didn’t you get in trouble for changing things?”

“Of course. But it was so worth it.”

_________________________

I stared down at the partially eaten fruit in my hands, feeling overwhelmed at the memories surging through my mind.

I keep seeing these memories, but I can’t connect them to anything. What are these lower realms? Is that what I’m in right now? Who is this person I keep seeing?

I felt incomplete, a large part of my memories, my emotions, were missing. What was worse, I wasn’t even sure what was gone, what I should be sad about losing.

I grabbed my bag and walked out the door.

“Alaira.” A voice called out, stopping me in my tracks. Turning, I sighed with odd sense of disappointment at the person standing before me.

Who was I expecting?

I forced a grin and made a rude gesture. “Hey Chris, how awful to see you this morning! Terrible of you to stop by.” I checked my personal communicator and shrugged. “Fortunately for me, I’m running late and have no time for your nonsense. So we’ll save your annoying ranting and raving for a later date, okay?”

He ignored my words, stepping closer with an excited look. “Have you heard the news?”

“Even if I say yes, you’re still going to tell me, right?”

“Don’t pretend, it’s not fooling anyone!” He glared at me. “You’ve been hoping to trap me as your Connector since the match results came back!”

I sighed. “At this point, it’s not even funny anymore. What can I say that will possibly convince you that that is NOT the case?”

“You won’t be able to stop my dreams, Alaira! Next time I’m going to win!”

“Yes, you’re the absolute greatest.” I rolled my eyes. “I cry myself to sleep each night over the fact that we aren’t partners, and I will never feel anything in this life but anguish and despair… now can I go to class?”

He looked ever angrier at my sarcasm. “Just wait until the next match. You’ll see that I’m good enough to be a Guardian. Because I’ve got…”

“Okay, buddy. Sounds good.” I interrupted, walking away.

“Wait, you didn’t finish listening…”

“Yep. See you next match.”

I left him behind, ignoring his rage induced sputtering.

Met an idiot first thing... but hey, at least I'm not hungry anymore!

_________________________

A few days later, the next round of mock Mech battles began.

As the winner of the prior fight, I was slated to go first, completing the first four battles with relative ease. As the day wore on, however, the drain on my body from using the Mech was increasing exponentially. Fortunately I was on my last scheduled fight of the day… even if this was the hardest so far.

A light headache was throbbing at my temples as I scanned the field around me. The arena stood as a large stadium, featuring a high-class barrier shield that extended up to twenty stories in the air. Hundreds of seats surrounded the fighting field, all equipped with holo screens that played the footage taken by the referee bots floating around the fight.

The excited screams from the audience were slightly muffled by the protective screen, and the remaining noise was filtered out as I focused on the fight ahead of me.

My opponent this time was a third year A level Guardian, an experienced fighter, who fought along side a D level Connector. Alaira had faced off with them multiple times in the past, and she had always struggled to win despite the difference in strength of abilities.

There was no denying the advantage that a Connector brought to the fight.

I grinned, ignoring the draining sensation of operating my Mech, the headache and weakness that quickly came on each time I made the Connection. The pain was severe, like a knife stabbing through my eye, but I forced myself to ignore it. As I fought, I couldn’t help but feel bitter.

It’s not like I haven’t been looking for a Connector.

Each day I went to the Matching Center. Each day I endured the laughter, the stares, the whispers and pointing. Each day I was faced with the same words: “No match available.”

Do I need to come up with a different plan? But I can’t fight the Hive without a Mech, and I can’t operate a Mech without a Connector… unless I want to slowly destroy my mind like Alaira did.

I sighed, not seeing any easy answers, and focused on the fight ahead of me. Although I had Alaira’s memories, and operating the Mech came as almost second nature with my S level alpha waves, I had run into an unexpected obstacle:

Alaira’s weapon of choice had been dual wielding energy pistols.

What a waste of the cool looking sword on my back. My physical body was suspended in the Connection chamber, a shielded globe filled with suspension gel. Although the Mech was controlled through alpha brain waves and the Connection, the closer I was to the Mech, the easier that control was. Thus the space for the Guardian was always in the center of the Mech.

I wore helmeted mask monitoring my vitals such as oxygen saturation and heart rate, adjusting the air composition and breath volume to accommodate my body’s stress reaction during battle. A skintight silver suit covered me, interacting with the gel to provide me physical feedback that the Mech would feel. My vision was shared with my Mech’s video system; I looked down and saw the pistols resting in the robotic hands. It was strange, I was obviously inside the robot, but the sensation of the ground beneath my feet, the guns in my hands, was all too real.

The physical sensation made it easier to fight, but it had an obvious drawback, which was that I felt any blows that my Mech sustained. During the fight I was the Mech, and it was a part of me. I tightened my grip around the energy weapons, feeling tired.

Something felt off about using these as my weapons.

I still had no memories about my past, but as I had practiced with the Mech these past few weeks, I had noticed a familiarity with fighting and battles, even more than what Alaira had in my memories after a lifetime of training at home with her father and then in the academy.

Am I some kind of warrior or something?

It didn’t seem right, but I couldn’t explain the comfortable sensation of judging my opponent and fighting with them. But that comfort and familiarity did not extend to dual wielding pistols.

I just wasn’t a great shot.

We had already been fighting for ten minutes. My headache had worsened and I felt tired, but I had only managed to score a few hits on non-vital areas. The only benefit was that the opposing Mech had only been able to strike me twice with the energy-enhanced spear he carried.

“You seem a little off today, Alaira, everything all right?” My opponent’s voice came over his speaker, shocking me. It was technically considered bad etiquette to talk during battle, but it was hard to fault him, as he seemed genuinely concerned about my less than ideal fighting state.

I shook my head, raising my pistols once more. “I’m fine, let’s continue.”

I rushed forward, taking advantage of my superior speed and maneuverability to get closer, trying to make it harder to miss my shots. The opposing Mech jumped backwards, but it was too late. Its hand was within my grasp. Turning and using its significant weight to my advantage, I flipped the robot over my own’s shoulder put the barrel of my gun against the metal head.

My final shot through its temple destroyed the key mechanisms within it, rendering it immobile and finishing the fight.

That was too close… I’ve been practicing with the pistols since I’ve woken up in this strange world, and seen no improvement… what am I doing wrong?

As the referee called out my victory, I backed away, letting out a sigh of relief. It had been a harder fight than it should have been, but at least it was over.

I need a nap.

“I WANT TO CHALLENGE ALAIRA!”

An extremely annoying voice spoke up, causing my already bad headache to worsen.

... Why me?

I turned towards the speaker. “Chris. Didn’t we agree that we were going to avoid each other? … Or was that just my wishful thinking?”

His all white Mech landed in front of my own, holding a large, oversized sword. He swung it back and forth, and although I couldn’t see his facial expressions, the smug tone of his voice through the Mech’s speakers were enough to make me wish I could make my Mech roll its eyes.

“Surely the legendary S level Guardian Alaira isn’t SCARED to fight with a mere D level Guardian such as myself, right?”

“Guardian Chris, please retract your challenge. Guardian Alaira has already finished five consecutive mock battles, and needs time to recover.” The instructor’s face was stern on the holographic screens around us, leaving no room for disagreement.

Chris laughed mockingly. “Oh, I thought she said that even with all the advantages and luck she could still beat me? I guess it was just empty arrogance.” His Mech shook its head. “With such a weak personality, no wonder you can’t find a Connector to match you. Who would want to endure such a woman?”

“…”

CLANG!

My Mech’s foot connected with the other’s crotch, and I heard a high-pitched squeal of pain. Ha, shared sensation with the Mech comes in handy sometimes.

“How dare you?!” His pained shout made me grin.

“Less talking, more fighting. I accept your challenge, Chris.” I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the feeling of my head splitting apart, as well as the light ringing in my ears. I had reached the limit of how long I could safely operate the Mech.

But the sound of his smug satisfaction infuriated me.

Every night, I was haunted by nightmares. Sometimes it was fragments of memories of unfamiliar worlds and people. Most nights, however, I dreamt of Alaira’s end. Alone, broken, terrified, a horrific death for a lonely girl.

And this idiot had watched it happen.

It might not be smart, but I just really want to beat him up. I took a stance, brandishing the pistols, feeling off kilter once more at the light weight in both of my hands.

In the meantime Chris had recovered from his inconvenience, and had resumed his taunting. “Oh, yeah, you ran away so fast the other day, I never got to share with you the good news:” He paused for what I assumed was dramatic effect. “I matched with a Connector earlier last week.”

He obviously meant this to be a huge blow to me, but Alaira’s memories had already warned me this would happen. A beautiful young woman, one of the many who competed for Chis’s affection. This one is a princess… Ilene, I think?

Unbidden, my mind was filled with the thought of the serious, quiet Prince William. I hadn’t seen him since that first day in front of the matching center. So he would be her brother?

I felt a moment of concern at his absence, and then confused, I shook my head, dismissing the thought. I had no reason to see him. Why would I worry about a stranger? Shrugging, I waved casually to Chris’s Mech.

“I welcome the princess to the battle. Sorry you’re on the losing team!”

“…”

There was a moment of shocked silence. “You already know?!”

I winced at Chris’s ear piercing shriek. “Know and don’t care.”

“But… I have a Connector.”

“Yeah, you said that.”

“So I won’t be YOUR Connector!”

I sighed. “We’ve long established that. Look, buddy, it’s been a long day and I’m really tired, are you gonna keep talking about your boring personal life, or are we gonna try to crush each other with massive robots?”

“... Fine then! Keep pretending you don’t care!” Chris seemed really upset at not eliciting a bigger reaction from me, but fortunately turned his attention to the battle as well.

As the hologram around us signaled the start to the fight, he raised his sword and moved towards me, but I had already moved behind him.

BAM!

A shot hit his shoulder, blowing large metallic pieces into the air. I frowned, frustrated. I was faster and stronger than him, but my shots just weren’t going where I wanted them to.

Chris ‘s Mech turned around to face, me, the oversized sword’s momentum swaying the robot from side to side. His movement accuracy and speed had tripled from our last encounter. Clearly, he and his Connector were well matched, well over the required 50%.

But I was still faster.

I ducked under his blow, aiming upwards at his elbow and firing another couple shots.

BAM! BAM!

I missed. Cursing, I recovered, dodging another blow as I increased the distance between us.

Stupid guns.

_________________________

A young man threw up his hands, clearly frustrated.

“Why are you so stubborn? Every single world you insist on using a sword. We were in a laser battle for goodness sake!”

“Swords are more dependable.”

“Oh come on…”

“Plus I’m a terrible shot.”

He sighed. “Fine. But what if one day you don’t have me watching your back?”

“It will be fine.” I grinned. “Don’t you love saying that everything is according to fate? Maybe a sword is just mine?”

“... It doesn’t work like that.”

_________________________

A brief memory flashed in my mind, confusing me.

During my distraction, Chris’s Mech tried to strike again. With no time to dodge, I raised my gun, blocking the blow with the barrel. The weapon cracked under the edge of the sword. I pushed him back, relying on my superior strength and jumped backwards, throwing away the broken weapon in my hand. Glancing down at the remaining gun I had, I felt a warm liquid drip from my nose. It was bleeding, a sign of the increasing strain of the Connection.

I was breaking down. I wouldn't last the rest of the fight.

I had to surrender.

Screw that!

I holstered my remaining gun, drawing the large sword on my Mech’s back. As I held it in front of me, I suddenly felt at home, completely comfortable, as if I had held a sword many times before. I stared at Chris’s Mech, feeling excited.

Now, this feels like a fight!

I raced forward, swinging my sword in a horizontal strike.

_________________________

I was standing in a group of zombies, my sword cutting through the neck of the closest monster.

_________________________

Chris dodged, stumbling backwards. I used the momentum of my first swing to smoothly transition into a downward slash.

_________________________

I was an elf, dancing in the forest, my blade striking down shadowy creatures in the midst of a large battle.

_________________________

THUD!

A robotic hand fell to the ground as I cut it off at the wrist. Chris let out a moan of pain, cut short as I controlled my Mech to kick him in the face, knocking him on his back.

_________________________

I was a vampire, holding a sword made of darkness, fighting humans with elegance and grace.

_________________________

Chris tried to stand up but my foot on his chest prevented the movement. I rested the tip of my sword at his Mech’s throat.

“Do you surrender?”

_________________________

“Surrender?” I smiled as I spoke, staring down at the man on the ground. I couldn’t see his face clearly except for his dark blue eyes, which stared at me without a hint of embarrassment despite his defeated position.

“I surrender.” His voice was warm. “You’re pretty amazing with a sword.”

“After all the realms I’ve fought through? I would have to be.” I shook my head. “Don’t you use swords when you travel?”

“I’m not permitted to travel anymore.” He grinned. “I keep refusing to play my role.”

_________________________

I blinked, focusing on the partially destroyed Mech in front of me. Not hearing his answer, I dug the tip into his neck slightly, only stopping when he let out a groan.

“Do. You. Surrender?”

“I surrender.” His answer sounded like it was forced through gritted teeth.

I could hear muted cheers from the crowd behind the shield as the holographic screens around us displayed my name as the victor.

“Good.” I moved my sword and turned away. My body felt drained, every muscle screaming in pain. I tasted blood in my mouth, my head hurting worse with each passing second.

“I’LL BEAT YOU ONE DAY!” Chris called out behind me. “I’LL GET STRONGER, AND I’LL SHOW YOU!”

“Tell it to someone who cares.” I didn’t turn around, and left the arena.

At least I won. Now if my head would just stop hurting...

As soon as I reached the docking area, my legs crumpled beneath me, and my world faded into darkness.

_________________________

Where am I?

I woke up in a white room, on a plain, clean bed, wearing a hospital gown.

This isn’t a different world, is it?

I carefully searched my memories, but didn’t feel anything different. I sighed, realizing I must be in the school infirmary. In my memories of her life, Alaira had helped bring her fellow students there in the past, but had never stayed to be examined. Deep down she had known that without a Connector she was breaking down, and was afraid the school would prevent her from fighting.

It might have saved her life if she had.

I sat up, rubbing my forehead tiredly. It was still throbbing.

“Are you okay?” A soft voice spoke up, startling me.

I jumped, looking to the chair beside my bed, where a dark haired young man sat. His dark blue eyes studied me carefully, his face expressionless.

“…Prince William?”

“…” After a long silence, he nodded slowly.

“What are you doing here?”

He stared down at the floor silently, and just when I thought he might not respond, he reached out, handing me a peeled apple.

I took it, feeling dazed. “Umm… thanks.” I took a bite, and after swallowing, asked the question on my mind. “Were you the one leaving food outside my dorm room then?”

“…hmm.” His gaze never left the ground.

What the heck kind of answer is “hmm”?!!

“How did you know I like peeled apples?”

“…” A look of genuine confusion crossed his face, but quickly disappeared as he shrugged silently.

“Okay. Well. Thanks.” I pushed myself up, trying to swing my legs to the side of the bed.

He stood up, his face concerned. “Wait. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, my head hurts, but otherwise I feel great.”

“…You should rest.” He frowned as he looked me over.

“It’s just strain from a prolonged connection.” I sighed. “I’m used to it.”

“You haven’t matched?” He seemed mixed, as if happy and disappointed at the same time.

“Nope. Not for lack of trying though. ” I looked him over. “Are you a Connector? Have you matched yet?”

“I…” A look of agony distorted his features.

“He can’t. He’s broken.”

A young woman stood at the door of the infirmary, a mocking smile on her face.

I studied the newcomer carefully. She had long black curls framing a heart shaped face, and large blue eyes that looked down on me with pride. Given the similarities in features to Prince William next to me, it wasn’t difficult to figure out her identity.

“I’m assuming you’re Princess Ilene?”

She ignored my words, walking closer to her brother, whose face had become expressionless once again.

“He can’t Connect. His mental barrier is too strong.” She stopped a few feet away from him and raised her hand, knocking on what looked to be empty air. It made a solid noise, her hand stopping at the same invisible point. “He can’t put it down even if he wants to.”

I thought back to the first time I met him, remembering people being pushed aside.

“A useless Connector who can’t make the connection. A Guardian who can’t match. Two failures together.” She smiled at me. “Sorry I took away your only possible chance at matching Chris, but you needed to see the reality of the situation. He’s a better Guardian than you.”

“…Remind me again who ended up flat on their back at the end of the last fight?”

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance at my comeback. “At least he will be around a long time to help fight the Hive. You, on the other hand.” Ilene pointed at her head and turned her finger in a circle. “You have no future. But on the bright side, at least my useless brother can keep you company while your mind slowly breaks apart.”

BAM

William stood up, angry, and with the loud sound of an impact, Ilene was pushed by an invisible barrier out of the room. Her face enraged, she slammed her fists against it while her mouth made motions as if she was shouting. I stared at her, confused as to why I couldn’t hear her.

“…I sealed her out of the barrier.” William whispered. “Her voice can't make it through either.”

“Oh.” I nodded with satisfaction, watching her shout silently outside the doorway. “Thanks.”

“I can expand the barrier… but she’s right… I can’t drop it.” His eyes dropped down to the floor again. “I can’t Connect… I can’t help Guardians… useless…” His voice slowly dropped in volume, until it was barely a whisper.

“Well, you’re helping me out right now, and I’m a Guardian. So I’d say you’re a pretty useful guy.” I gave him a thumbs up. “I know that not hearing her is already making my day better.”

He stared at me silently for a few moments. “… Are you hungry?”

“Kind of. Why? Do you have more apples or something?”

William shook his head. “No… cake.”

“Please tell me you are serious.”

He solemnly set a container with a piece of cake on the table next to me, along with a napkin and utensils.

I stared at it in shock, motionless.

“… Do you not like it?” His nervous tone broke me out of my stupor. I quickly reached out and held the container close, grabbing the fork and taking a bite.

“Oh, this is amazing… totally worth passing out after my fight.” I took a few more bites, noting him relaxing visibly as I showed my enjoyment. “…Why are you being so nice to me, anyways?”

“Why?” William blinked, looking shocked as if he hadn’t considered it before.

“Yeah. As far as I can tell, I haven’t met you outside of running into you in the hallway once. Why go out of your way to leave me food and sit by me in the infirmary?”

He finally looked up, his dark blue eyes staring into my own. “…I’m not sure. “ He shrugged. “Whenever I see you, I feel happy. I want to help you.”

I leaned back against the backboard of the infirmary bed. “Well… I guess I could always use a friend.”

“Friends?” A trace of a smile crossed his face, before it disappeared into expressionless once more. “Really?”

“Yeah. So let me introduce myself officially, Prince William.” I started to reach out a hand to shake, but remembering his barrier, I pulled it back. “I’m Alaira. Level S Guardian but unable to match, and your new friend.”

He stared at my hand with a look of regret before looking back up. “I’m a Level S Connector… but can’t connect. I’m your new friend… “ He hesitated. “Can you call me a nickname instead?”

“Sure.”

“Then call me… Liam.”

_________________________

“Are you lost?” I woke up in a strange world to the sound of an unfamiliar voice, laying on my back, confused.

“Seems a good description for my current situation.” I stared into a pair of dark blue eyes, smiling despite the dizziness. “Nice to meet you, Stranger.”

He grinned, reaching out a hand to help me up. “Call me Liam.”

“Nice to meet you, Liam.”

_________________________

I blinked away the memory, smiling at the timid young man in front of me. “Nice to meet you… Liam.”

#writing #please fix the story #sci fi #world hopping #memory loss #giant robots #aliens #more memories #call back to the peeled apples from the zombie arc if anyone remembers that far back #so happy to post this part finally. #weight off my chest

[kuroopaisen]

10:31 pm || miya osamu

➵ osamu won’t stop making his damn onigiri. 

wc: 1400

warnings: gn!reader, the slightest bit suggestive  

a/n: @starrysamu i’ll be honest, it’s a while since i’ve written something and been happy with it. but i wanted to give you something on your birthday to say thank you for being so lovely to me :( (i know i’m technically late but shhh...) you’ve been so kind to me, and i can’t thank you enough for all the light you’ve brought into my life (both intentionally and inadvertently). and i know i’m not the only one -- you’ve brought life and laughter to so many people’s lives, and i just want you to know how loved and appreciated you are. this was originally planned as a fluffvember piece dedicated to you but Stuff Happened and it never got written and try as i might, this was the most i could drag together in celebration for remy day. i’m so sorry i couldn’t do more, but regardless i hope you had the best day possible :( i adore you

“Osamu,” you huff, butting his arm with your head.

He ignores you.

“Osamu,” you whine, a little louder this time.

He continues to ignore you, moulding a rice ball with both hands.

You duck down and pop back up between his arms.

Osamu bites back a smile this time, but once again – he ignores you.

You know he’s doing it on purpose. He’s not like his brother; he doesn’t get so lost in what he’s doing that he completely loses track of his surroundings. No, he’s doing this to wind you up. Because you’ve made it too obvious that you want his attention.

Although, you don’t usually have to fight for it.

He’s not the kind of guy to spend a lot of his free time ‘doing’ things. Time at home is time to relax. If he wants to play around with recipes, then he’ll just stay an extra hour at work. If he needs to work off some steam, he’ll go to the gym. Time at home is time to relax – or, more aptly put, time to annoy you.

But sometimes, Osamu’ll be consumed by a relentless urge to create. All he wants to do is make new combinations of ingredients, stuffing his onigiri full of stuff that you wouldn’t possibly think would go together. But Osamu seems to have a sixth sense for this sort of thing; even the strangest sounding combinations end up being surprisingly satisfying.

You’re not about to complain about this quirk of his. You’re his trusty taste-tester, the lab rat for all his new creations. That’s quite the honour – one of the benefits of being part of Osamu’s life. The whole ‘having a professional chef prepare you dinner every night’ is also pretty good.

(You joked, once, that the only reason you kept him around was because he was just so damn good at cooking.

He’d been so genuinely pouty about it that for a moment it felt like you were talking to his brother).

But tonight, that stroke of creativity had hit at nine in the evening. And honestly, you can only eat so much rice.

He’s been at it for the past hour or so, throwing together this and that while a gentle Spotify playlist provides ambient noise. It’s the sort of music you’d listen to in an attempt to wind down – something that’s certainly not doing much for your fatigue.

“I’m tired,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. He’s warm, like he always is. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to sleep as soundly as you do with him next to you. He’s too much of a fixture in your life now. Too much of a comfort.

Osamu chuckles, his thumbs smoothing languid circles over your waist. “It’s only ten at night.”

“I know,” you whine, lifting your head up to look at him.

Frankly, he should be glad you’re tired this early. Kita’s always chided you for your erratic sleep schedule, and Osamu’s been given a talk or two about how he should be looking after you better.

“Osamu,” you huff, pouring all your menace into that one word.

It’s not very effective.

“Hm?” He sounds amused more than anything.

“Please come to bed.”

A familiar grin crosses his face. “Want me that bad, huh?”

You butt his chest with enough force to knock him backwards. “Shut up.”

He’s not wrong, but it’s certainly not what’s on your mind right now. And he knows that.

“Ah, so you’re not denying it,” he grins. Stupid relentless Osamu.

You punch him in the stomach with what might just be the world’s weakest fist.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Osamu chuckles, shaking his head.

You pout up at him, doing your best to look as pitiful as possible.

“You can’t fool me,” he grins.

It’s true. Osamu knows you well; some would say too well. But that’s what you get, being romantically involved for so long. And while he may know you well enough to save himself the burden of feeling guilty in the face of your faux misery, you also have a carefully catalogued library of every lame and embarrassing thing he’s ever said.

It’s a fair enough trade.

One song ends and another begins.

It’s similar in style to the one before – a soft tune, an indistinct voice crooning over the music, a soothing yet bittersweet tone underlying the tune.

Osamu stills, a strange tenderness melting over his face. He slips one arm around your waist, making sure that his hand stays away from your shirt. It’s still covered in the gelatinous residue of the rice.

“Didn’t this play at your sister’s wedding?” He asks softly.

You nod. He remembers that? Hell, it’d taken you a moment to rifle through your (admittedly hazy) memories of that event to try and recall if this song had even been on the playlist.

Osamu reaches for one of your hands, lacing his sticky fingers with yours. You open your mouth to protest, but before you can his other hand slips round to hold your waist.

“But my shirt,” you whine, well-aware that you’re going to have to change it before going to bed. Unless you wanted gritty bits of dried rice to work its way onto your sheets, of course.

“Just borrow one of mine,” Osamu mumbles, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.

Your lips are free, but it feels like he’s sealed them shut.

Osamu isn’t a man of many words. But he is a man of gentle touches, quiet moments, little affections you might miss if you’re not watching closely enough.

He pulls you towards him, taking a step away from the kitchen countertop. You almost stumble as you let him lead you in the sway of the music. He’s a bit off beat, but he’s never been very good at keeping to one. You remember having to learn ballroom dancing in P.E.; for all his innate talent at volleyball, Osamu has none for dancing.

If he cares about that, he makes no indication. He just holds you close to him, fingers digging into your waist gently as he moves. You lean into him, resting your cheek against his chest.

The song ambles on, an offbeat soundtrack to this tiny tenderness.

You pull your head back and look up to him.

He’s smiling.

It’s not his usual smile, that lazy, sardonic half-smirk. It’s gentle, fond, loving. It’s a smile you don’t get to see often – and one you certainly don’t get to see in public. But it’s another tiny sign that he loves you; a sign that he trusts you with all his vulnerability, even if he can’t put it into words.

He leans in and you wonder if he’s going to kiss you.

“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear.

“What about the mess?” You ask, turning to look at the kitchen as if he hadn’t just made your heart race.

There’s rice everywhere, wrapped in seaweed and in bowls and in flecks all over the counter. You’re sure you’ve never seen this much rice before in your whole entire life – and you’ve cooked for Osamu’s high school volleyball team before.

“I’ll deal with it in the morning,” Osamu says, totally unbothered.

“But ants,” you pout, eyes anxiously scanning the wide variety of perishables strewn over the kitchen. Something’s going to go off by the morning. And that isn’t even accounting for the hoard of uneaten onigiri stacked up in a Tupperware container.

“It’ll be fine,” Osamu shrugs, tugging you out of the kitchen.

“No, it won’t!”

“We haven’t had ants yet.”

“You still shouldn’t leave food out overnight—”

Osamu chuckles, sealing your lips with a kiss. It’s not just any kiss, either; he kisses you exactly how you like to be kissed, in the way that always makes you tick. Unfortunately, it’s an effective way of shutting you up.

Stupid Osamu and his underhanded tricks. He knows just what makes you tick, just how to get under your skin.

But being known is a part of being loved. It means having every little thing about you tucked neatly in someone else’s memory, regardless of if you want it to be or not. Words barely matter. In most cases, they don’t.

It’s a fact you just have to come to terms with.

Osamu already has.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x you #i don't know what to tag this hh #also peep the next time reference #that's all

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile - Izuku Midoriya/Deku (BNHA/MHA)

I'm showing up in tags again yay! Time to repost this

Finally I am dishing out MHA content and kicking off with one of my favorite boys nice

TWs: Fem!Reader, Yandere, kidnapping, delusional mindsets, infantilization, mentions of violence/mutilation, mentions of murder, mentions of fake suicide, n//s//fw themes/mentions/brief content, mentions of virginity/sex shaming, dark content, mentions of a high school setting

TWs (n//s//fw section/below the cut): noncon, brief dealing with/mentions of past sex trauma, generally depraved/dark content, pain content, infantilization What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

High key delusional. (I think everyone I've seen in the yan bnha community agrees on this lmao.) But really, he acts that way because he's not naturally that way - he has to make an active effort to lie to himself and to you in order to believe his delusions.

Obsessive. I mean, look at what this boy does to his heroes. You bet he has an entire notebook dedicated to your existence. It starts off simple, an entry regarding your quirk if you have one, or perhaps he feels compelled to write a simple entry about someone he met if you don't. Gradually it turns into a log of all his encounters with you, his observations of your day, his thoughts about you, a strict schedule of what you do. The things you do while he watches - you KNOW the boy is a stalker. He has a folder in his phone gallery of just quick snaps he's taken of you walking around, smiling, laughing, looking at your phone, lots of pictures from the back, sleeping at your desk, and a few more risky ones. The time he accidentally walked into the wrong shower room after a class and just happened to catch you getting out of the shower. Slightly blurry pictures through the window of the girls dorm of you getting dressed, laying in bed, sitting at your desk doing homework. Dark, barely visible images of your sleeping form just barely illuminated by moonlight. You really ought to lock those windows.

He's on the border where he's just comfortable enough to talk to you, but far too nervous to ever confess, or spend as much time with you as he'd like. Of course, preferably he could spend every waking moment by your side, but, he's aware enough to know you need space. He's fine with that. He's technically with you anyway, you just don't know it. And really, he likes stalking, genuinely. He likes the feeling of knowing you're unaware of his presence, the thrill of risk and the giddy satisfaction he gets knowing this is your candid, non-performing self, he can see what you're really, truly like when you think you're alone, and it's just so cute.

Particularly for a quirkless, civilian darling, or if darling's quirk has no combative purposes, he'll be much more protective. He's one to have the delusion that you're too fragile for the world, and that you're inevitably bound to get hurt, it's not safe out there. You're like a little kitten, one that's just a little too curious for her own good, doesn't know how big and bad the world is, how people who want to hurt her are out there. Kittens stay inside all day where they belong, safe to be the soft little housepets they are.

History/info stalker as well. He will find out everything about your past and you in general - memorize things like your height, birthday, grades, blood type, etc. Will also deep-dive through any social media you have, even managing to find anonymous ones, probably by sneaking through your phone as your sleep. He'll learn about your family, how well they treat you, gauges how hard they'll search for you. He'll want to know about any history you have regarding relationships and sex, too. He'll be disappointed to learn you've ever been with and done things with someone else, but that's ok. Everyone makes mistakes, and he can forgive that.

Massive savior complex. This goes double if he did save you from a situation -- he's literally your hero. And he expects that you should at least be grateful enough to acknowledge that. If your family or boyfriend or past boyfriends were abusive or unkind in any way, if you were generally struggling in school or work, if you had any sort of bad life, it will also emphasize this, and he feels he saved you from all of that, and is giving you a better life. And he'll remind you, frequently.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Inevitable, but he's a planner and he takes some time. He's smarter than he seems and he will formulate an extensive plan. If we're talking senior Izuku, well, he's limited, as he only has the dorms and his old apartment where his mother lives. He's likely to wait it out until post-graduation, wait until he gets his own place, which will now be as soon as possible. Whenever you plan to start university or hero work or whatever, well, you'll never actually make it there.

As for how, it depends on your trust. If he's managed to get close to you as he hopes to, at least to the point of friendship, he'll likely just invite you over, one last time before you go your separate ways in life. You walk right into your own imprisonment, not thinking anything is off when he locks the door behind you. If not, if he was never that close to you, or you turn down his offer, well, he'll just do it the old fashioned way. You're a naive little thing, and you'll inevitably be walking by yourself at night at some point for whatever reason, and he knows how to make chloroform. He may look small-ish, but he has a deceptive strength even without the use of OFA, you can't actually hope to overpower him. If he can't catch you out walking, well, once again, you really ought to lock those windows.

Now, a hero Deku, a few years into his 20s and quickly gaining popularity, that sees some poor little civilian getting hurt, he'll just use the excuse of taking you to get help. Clearly you've suffered a concussion, you're not in your right mind, and if you pick up on what's going on and try to call for help, he'll just say so to passersby. People have no reason to distrust him, he's a well-reputed, extremely popular hero, he would never harm someone. So when he says he's just taking you to get medical assistance, no one bats an eye.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

Like some of my previous yans, he's one that will intentionally set up escape opportunities just to see how well your conditioning is going. Leave the door unlocked, but sit and wait outside. Make the bonds just a little bit too loose to see if you wiggle out of them. Leave things that could be used as lockpicks to see how smart you are. It's all a test, though, don't worry. He'll be waiting right outside to make sure you don't actually end up going out into the world and getting yourself hurt. He'll be disappointed in you, but don't worry, he's not too mad - it's just his way of knowing you don't understand yet.

Generally, it's tight security. He's one to invest in electronic security -- a shock collar, tracking anklets, cameras that sense motion, a bracelet that tracks your heartbeat, and all of which send him notifications to his phone if anything is out of the ordinary. The cameras he'll be able to watch a live stream of at any time - he's gotten to where he eats lunch alone in his office so that he can just kick back and watch you.

Now, he has something of an urge to show you off, he would love nothing more than for the world to see what a cute little wife he has, but he restrains this urge for your safety. He has a lot of enemies, and he can't have them knowing about his weakness, he can't stand the thought of you getting hurt because of him. So don't expect to even have anyone who knows about you to rely on.

As for attempts... Should you manage to get through all his measures, well, clearly that means they weren't enough. He's another yandere that, you probably shouldn't try unless you are one hundred percent certain you'll succeed, because if not you likely won't get another chance. Security measures will bump up, and he'd likely implant something in you - a tracking chip beneath the skin, deep enough you can't hope to cut it out. That way, even if you get out into the city, he can easily find you and save you again. If you seriously manage to escape for a while, he doesn't handle it well emotionally, to be honest, he might get pretty upset, but again, everyone makes mistakes, so if you apologize -- and you will, even if he has to resort to unpleasant measures to force one out of you -- he'll forgive you.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Izuku is significantly smarter than he seems, much like his strength. Despite his deluded nature, he still recognizes that, since she's too dumb to comprehend her own safety, she's likely to try and pull tricks to get back out of her cage. He's perceptive and can read facial expressions and tone of voice very well, so if you're a good liar there's about a 75% chance he'll pick up on it -- anything else and he definitely will.

He's likely to go along with it, just to expose your lies or plan in the end. He likes giving you the humiliation because it will hopefully make you even less likely to do it in the future.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Izuku goes out of his way to keep you well-entertained, but it's all very... infantilizing. For example, he gets you streaming services and the like, but puts parental content locks on everything so you basically can only consume extremely g-rated type of content. He doesn't want you watching anything violent, or dirty or vulgar, it's not suiting such an innocent little thing. He won't even let you watch the news, unless occasionally forcing you to watch something that he knows is being aired about him, in which case he wants you to see so you're reminded of how good he is. He'll also be able to see your search history, and know if you tried to look up anything he wouldn't approve of, especially things like lockpicking or "how to disable human shock collar," you know, that sorta thing. Or more... adult things, which are also blocked. Besides, you have him, you don't need that.

He'll let you cook, but only in his presence, can't have you getting hurt without him there to fix it. You'll probably start off restrained to a bedroom -- a very heavily safety-proofed one -- in the beginning, gradually earning the privilege of going to other rooms once you've proven you can be trusted.

He'll also really try to get you almost anything you want, really. Clothes, books, hobby supplies, anything he thinks will make you happy and adjust more easily. You can use this to your advantage, really, if you're willing to settle in for your new lifestyle.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Of course, besides the obvious no escaping, no outside contact, and no attacking him, he's actually still got a lot of behavioral rules. Much like the content he allows you to consume, he expects the same from you -- no cursing, no drinking, no vulgarity. No handling knives while he's gone, and he'll know if you do, from the motion-sensing cameras that will alert him of your presence in the kitchen. He's one to humiliate you. Specifically, if you've proven you can't behave at all, or tried to really fight him, he'll get you a nice big cage to live in until you have learned your lesson. The kind they make for big dogs, short enough to force you on all fours, complete with bedding, a padlock, and a water bowl for you to drink from. You'll stay there until you can understand what you did wrong and are ready to grovel at his feet about it. During that time, he'll also ignore anything you say, acting like you're not there.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

He can't risk anything that would damage his reputation and career, so murder is off the table. Unless, of course, it's not murder, but rather a sort of, how do they call it... suicide by hero. There was no other choice, really. It's sad to have a kill on his record, but people understand that sometimes these things happen.

This changes if someone has hurt you in any way -- in that case, he's not hesitating to actually kill someone. The thought of someone hurting his little treasure is infuriating, not only at them, but at himself for not coming into your life and saving you sooner. He'll be sure they know exactly why they're dying, that they spend their last moments begging for forgiveness for what they did to you.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

Easier than you'd think. Izuku doesn't like his delusions being challenged since, again, he has to put in effort to believe them in the first place. If you're being bratty and having tantrums he won't let it slide - even the slightest step out of line is dealt with to ensure you'll at least hesitate before doing it again. If you are the bratty type and blatantly go out of your way to defy him and his rules to his face, it's ground for immediate and pretty intense punishment. His anger is terrifying in its own way. He's beaming, grinning from ear to ear, talking to you so sweetly, but with just the most subtle underlying tone that lets you know he's furious. It's a warning voice, telling you to fix your attitude or else. He doesn't cease the babytalk or petnames when he's mad, it actually gets worse, it helps him contain his fury. But when you hear him say sweetheart in that quiet, sweet, but low voice you've come to recognize and immediately become afraid, he's pretty pleased when it reaches a point where that alone can shut you up. He believes there's a healthy degree of fear that pets should have of their masters.

The easiest and fastest way to set him off by far, though, even more than being mean or disobedient, is silent treatment. That sets him off unlike anything else, and is most likely to make him snap to actual, unrestrained anger, finally showing his true rage and snarling at you, grabbing you by the throat and lifting you off the ground. It will only last a few moments, though, before he comes back to his senses and lets go, apologizing, telling you he hates doing that, but you really seem to try to make him mad, sometimes.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

He kinda bounces back and forth. He's a bit of a worshipper, telling you how beautiful and amazing you are and how he doesn't deserve you, really no one does, you're angelic, nearly a goddess - but at the same time, you're also his little kitten. A pet to be controlled because you don't know what's good for you. Kept away from a world hellbent on harming you. When you agree with him or do what he wants, it's the former. When you disagree with him, it's the latter, and he talks down to you like you're a child.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He'll try until the day he dies. And try he does, very much so, always buying you gifts, telling you sweet things, reassuring you how much he loves you. Even if you show no sign of ever giving in, that doesn't deter him, ever the optimist. It can become infuriating... and maddening, slowly driving you to the brink of insanity. When it comes down to you trying to break him of his delusions versus him trying to break you into them... he will win, you will crack first. No matter how stubborn you think you may be, rest assured, he's even moreso.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

I have a unique little headcanon... he hints to someone about your existence, and will select someone as a back-up caretaker. See, he's worried about the possibility of being killed in his heroism, and what would happen to his poor little kitten then? It might be weeks before someone enters his apartment, and they would never understand -- they would think he did something wrong, they would try to recondition you to the world, sure they'd have good intentions, but they wouldn't realize they're making things worse for you. So, he gets a very trusted friend, someone he knows would understand and... perhaps whom he gets the feeling has a bit of the same tendencies as himself, and more or less tells them that if something should happen to him, they need to go to his place, because something very important to him is there. As jealous as the thought of someone else having you makes him, he can't bear the thought of you being released back into the world... and you're still in the denial phase, so you still act like he's a bad guy and all that, so you might tarnish his name and legacy with lies. He can't have that. So, after careful consideration, he picks someone to take over as your caretaker, should something happen. He would rather know you're in the capable hands of someone he trusts than left to starve in his apartment or thrown out into the world, even if it means someone else having you.

Maybe an odd choice, but I could see him going for Shoto on that one. His personality may be very different from his own, and he may not be as close to him as some others, but he senses they have the same... tendencies and inclinations (am I implying he's definitely a yandere too? Yes), and be trusts him to care for you but also be able to handle and tame you. And honestly? He's one person he knows without a doubt will actually prefer to follow through and have you rather than disregarding his wishes - anyone else, and he's got a little doubt they might just not understand the situation, not understand your unique case, and take you to the police or God forbid, just release you back into the world. He leaves a little note with you (making sure to detail how you can be hard to handle, be patient with her, ok?) and tells you that should anyone with this physical description (I mean, it's a pretty unique description, not too many people look like Shoto), ever come and tell you that he's gone, give them the note, and be nice to your new owner, he's sure he'll love you too. But never forget, he loved you more.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Horny lil thing. His stalking tendencies result in a lot of perverted shit -- stealing your clothes, jerking off to all those pictures of you he's taken, putting hidden microphones in your room so he can hear when you're touching yourself. He's got a high drive, and jerks off quite a bit. Watching you in class often leads to his thoughts racing, and you notice he gets up to use the bathroom pretty frequently during class.

Prior to abduction, he's not brave enough to be touchy, although he will use his innocent demeanor to try and get a nice full-front hug every now and then that seems to last just a bit too long for comfort. After abduction, though? He makes up for all the touching he's wanted to do since he first saw you, wrapping arms around you all the time. When you're cooking he'll come up behind you and just wrap his arms around you, standing there and just enjoying feeling you. At night he's always very cuddle and wants to snuggle on the sofa or have you in his lap in some way. He also gets very grope-y beyond that point, frequently reaching up to cup your chest in his hands, squeezing your ass or thighs, or just spooning and grinding a hard-on against your ass.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Too far into the delusions to care. Granted he understands why you are so resistant, why you fight so hard - you're just scared, but don't worry, it will only hurt just a little bit. Or you're insecure - he'll tell you lots of sweet things, he would just hate for you to not know how much he worships you, you know.

Or maybe you're just prudish, or traumatized. Repeated resistance with time and failure to quickly give in leads him to this conclusion, he becomes convinced that maybe you were raised in a sex-negative environment, a too-conservative household, and you were taught to think such a thing was wrong. Maybe you had some kind of negative experience in the past. If you confess to either of these being true, that just solidifies in his mind that that's the sole reason you're so resistant. He'll adjust based on whatever the issue is - are you one of the "until marriage" people? Well it's not official, but he'll try to prove to you that you're basically married, even make a fake contract for you to sign, buy you a cute white dress and a cake and basically say this is no different from being truly married, after all, the government approval is a modern convention and in the past people were married just by vows.

Is it trauma? Well, as said before, he's reluctant to murder, but if that turns out to be the case, that knowledge is enough to push him over the edge, and he'll be sure to make them regret it while they die - he'll even be sweet enough to take a picture, show you how much they rightfully suffered, and he'll be so so sweet, reassuring you he's not like them, kissing your forehead even as he's ignoring your little cries to stop and sinking deep into you.

Just a prude? That's ok. He'll teach you otherwise, rid you of that mindset -- all the more reason to ignore your struggles and pleas, because once you feel good enough, you'll stop resisting. Once you understand how good sex is and how nice he can make you feel, he's confident he can turn you into his own little cock-hungry slut. And managing to do so -- making you cum despite how prudish you are -- gives him a massive ego boost. Especially if you did have past partners, because clearly they weren't doing their job well, since you're so frigid. He'll make you tell him how much better he is than anyone else from before.

He's not a patient man, he's far too eager and really there's nothing you can do to stop sex from happening like... probably within the first hour of your new life together. He's been waiting such a long time, you know. If you happened to be a civilian in the situation mentioned previously, and you didn't know each other beforehand, he might give you, say, 24 hours to adjust, but again, he's not patient.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Oral fixation

Just. He likes eating you out. A lot. Even if you don't. Even if he has to restrain you, holding you down so you can't squirm away. He likes the taste and the way it makes you squirm and writhe and whimper. He loves blowjobs, too. Just. Suck him off and he's wrapped around your finger, but be warned, he lacks self control in this area and will definitely end up grabbing your hair and just jerking your head like a fleshlight, forcing you to deep-throat him until he can cum down your throat.

Infantilization/Lingerie, corruption/defilement

Specifically the cute kind. He likes things like the kitty keyhole lingerie, thigh highs, schoolgirl uniforms, that sort of thing. Innocent looking, cutesy, lots of soft pinks and pastel colors. He never really ceases treating you like a dumb baby, even with sex, cooing at you and making you whimper, softly reassuring you everything is ok, and he'll make you feel good. He likes the innocence, even if you're not (convinces himself any past boyfriends "don't count" for whatever reason), and gets off to the idea that he's corrupting that innocence, ruining you, making you his and his alone. His little toy to play with and break and ruin, make sure you're so trained to his body and voice that no one else could ever make you feel as good as him. As aforementioned, he likes the idea of taking a little prude and turning you into a little cumslut that begs and whimpers for him. It's an ego, pride thing for him.

Petplay/D/S dynamic/Worship

Just. Kitten. It's good. He's super into the cat ears and tail, finding cute ears that perfectly match your hair color, and a little tail plug that makes you whimper when he slides it inside of you. Definitely calls you "kitten," or "kitty," and importantly, makes sure you call him your master. And good pets love their masters, worship them the way they deserve to be worshipped for taking care of you, feeding you, doing everything for you. Masters are their pets' whole world, and he will be to you, too. Also buys a collar, a nice thick one with a leash he can use to make you walk around on all fours, or use to yank you back onto him when you're getting fucked on your hands and knees.

Cockwarming

Unfortunately, the part of hero work they don't talk about as much is the paperwork. There's quite a bit, actually, and studying for license renewals. He's got a kinda short attention span and he needs some stimulation to keep him focused. Which is how you end up sitting in his lap at his desk, panties down on your ankles, holding perfectly still with him deep inside of you. He tells you not to move -- you'll distract him too much. Eventually, though, it can get to be too much, so he just ends up fucking up into you right there, but after he's done he'll stay inside, gradually getting hard again and repeating the process.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He likes the idea in theory, but ultimately decides against it for a couple of reasons. See, his little kitten is so... difficult, and he fears you might teach them to resent him. More importantly, people would wonder -- if he's got kids, where's the mom? He can't afford to have people snooping about that. Finally, much like with you, he fears that his enemies might kidnap his kids, or hurt them somehow to hurt him. If darling is especially well-behaved, once she's finally broken in and understands his way of seeing things and becomes more agreeable, there's a chance he'd consider it, but the concern over their safety would likely still stop him.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Definitely spanking and impact pain. He's gonna invest in it, too. Leather straps and hard rubber paddles -- probably gets one of the ones that have a little shaped hole or raised part that puts a nice little design imprint on your flesh. Likes making you count for the added humiliation, or making you choose a number of swats that you feel is appropriate for what you did -- but of course, if you go too low under what he had in mind, he'll go with his number and add extra, being sure to let you know you get more for underestimating what you deserve.

Speaking of the monitoring from cameras and all that above, he also has a firm rule that you can't touch yourself. And he'll know -- the bracelet you have alerts him to any increase in heart rate, and he can look into the cameras and see what you're doing. If you're trying to be sneaky, it's still obvious when your heart is racing while you're locked in a bathroom, or the little movements he can make out from under the covers. It also warrants punishment. You want orgasms that bad? Have some. Too many. He'll make you cum over and over, to the point it's horribly painful and sensitive, tying you firmly so you can't move an inch and can't get away from his fingers, tongue, vibrator, or whatever else he chooses. Keep going until you're sobbing and gasping for air, apologizing and crying that you won't do it again.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Thigh boy. He likes using them as a pillow, feeling them wrapped around his head when he's eating you out, running his hands up and down the soft flesh. He's also fond of leaving little bite marks and hickeys all up the inside of your thighs -- not that anyone else sees, but it's just a little reminder to you of who you belong to.

#yandere bnha #yandere deku #yandere izuku #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #lena's asks

[whumperscorner]

Ahh your "Strapped to a bomb" fic was so good, thank you for using my request! Would it be alright if I request another? I really enjoy your writing, it really hits the whumpy spot hehe! If it's okay can I request "Rope Burns" with Prompto and dad Cor and/or PromptoxNoctis.

aaah thank you anon! I'm so glad you enjoyed :D Now, I don't actually have "Rope Burns" on my bingo card, maybe it's possible you've looked at a different card before requesting? That's no biggie though, and I do love the prompt, so I've decided to try to combine it a bit with whumptober :3

Hope this one's still enjoyable <3

Whumptober 2021 day 1.- Bound

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Noctis Lucis Caelum

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word count: 2444

Warnings: restraints and manhandling, slight descriptions of injury

Prompto doesn't really mind working late shifts. Sure, it can be a bit spooky sometimes, especially closing up alone like today. The gas station he works at isn't exactly in the city's most reputable neighbourhood, so the late shifts always bring with them their fair share of 'eccentric' customers. On the other hand, they're also never as busy as the day shifts, and Prompto has never experienced anything actually threatening or dangerous in his time working here. So really, the biggest problem with the closing shifts is the effect they have on his sleep schedule.

This evening's shift goes about as usual. There are a few regular customers early in the evening who Prompto chats with for a bit, then he restocks some shelves and does some cleaning up in the back. At one point there's an odd-looking man in the store who doesn't end up buying anything, just walks around the between the shelves and mutters to himself. Prompto leaves it be, he knows better than to ask or intervene unless he has to. The night rolls by with few notable occurrences, and with just over an hour left before closing time now Prompto doesn't have a lot to do. He texts back and forth with Noctis in the downtime, and the two makes plans to meet up after Prom's shift is done and hang out. It's Friday after all, and Noct has gotten a welcome break from his duties as Prince, so they deserve to have some fun now. Prompto smiles at his screen, having just sent a thumb's up to Noct's suggestion to go watch a late night showing of a movie, when the sound of the door opening and closing catches his attention. He quickly puts the phone away and begins talking entirely from habit as he looks up to meet the customer.

"Welcome, what can I-" then he stops. What meets him when he looks towards the entrance, only a few feet away, is the barrel of a gun trained directly at him. Prompto's words get stuck in his throat, and he makes a small, choked gasp instead as his eyes widen. The first thing he notices is the gun and it takes him a second to take in the men standing there too. There are two of them, the one holding the gun and one other, both wearing masks and both carrying big duffel bags. Prompto's eyes flicker between the men for one terrifying moment where nothing happens, then it's as if his body is on autopilot. He rushes to the side of the counter where he knows the emergency button is located, no thoughts in his head except that he needs to alert someone. A gunshot rings out, and Prompto feels something whizz by in front of him. One of the shelves on the wall behind the counter crumbles, sending various snacks flying everywhere. Prompto stops dead in his tracks. The adrenaline previously coursing through him is gone now.

"Do as I say if you want to live." says the man holding the gun. His voice is somewhat muffled by the mask, but it still sends shivers run down Prompto's spine. He manages a slight nod and stands as still as he can as the two men approach. "Step out here." is the next order, accompanied by a quick gesture with the gun. "Hands up. No sudden movements."

Prompto obeys. What other choice does he have? His hands are trembling when he brings them up, and he has to force himself to move out from behind the counter and closer to the men. It's like his body doesn't want to move and blood rushes in his ears, making the whole situation feel surreal. When he finally stops the man with the gun nods quickly towards his accomplice, who rushes forward and closes the remaining distance between Prompto and the assailants. He throws the duffel bag onto the ground, where it lands with a heavy *thud*. Prompto gets no time to wonder what's in it though, as the man quickly grabs one of his wrists in an iron hold and wrestles him down to the floor. Prompto groans at the rough handling, and desperately tries to squirm into a more comfortable position. However, that only results in the man grabbing his hair harshly and tugging his head back.

"Stay fucking quiet." He hisses through Prompto's pained cry. Prompto whimpers out a weak apology, and when the man lets go of his hair he doesn't struggle anymore. Not even when the masked assailant reaches for the duffel bag and begins rummaging in it, pinning Prom down with a knee uncomfortably placed between his shoulder blades. It would be easier to wriggle free now, but one look up at the other man and then gun still trained on him makes Prompto quickly abandon that thought. The man holding him seems to have found what he's looking for in the bag and before Prompto can even begin to wonder about it he feels his hands being tugged in place behind his back and coarse rope tied around them. Prompto yelps at the feeling but doesn't dare struggle too much. There's laughter from behind him, though he can't tell which of the men it's from, possibly both. In any case he can feel the bindings on his hands being tightened maybe just a little too much, and he winces. This time it's definitely the one holding him the laughter comes from.

"Oh, did that hurt doll? Sorry, I'll make it better." He says, in a sort of mocking polite tone. Another strip of the rope is added just above the one already around his wrists and this one, to Prompto's horror, is tightened even harder. It forces Prompto's shoulders into a slightly weird position and comes dangerously close to cutting off circulation in his hands. Then the man turns him over, so he lies on his back on the floor instead of on his stomach. Prompto can't hold back the pained noises when the new position pulls on his bound hands.

"Don't overdo it now." says the other man, but he too chuckles at Prompto's hopeless expression. He turns back to what he was doing before, which Prompto now sees is seemingly emptying the cash register of anything and everything in it. Prompto's heart sinks, and he's just beginning to think this evening has reached it's all time low when the man pauses. "But gag him too, just to be sure." He adds, and Prompto can almost hear the wicked smile behind the mask.

He sends the man sitting over him a pleading look, though he knows it will be futile. And soon enough a filthy rag from the duffel bag has been balled up and forced into his mouth. The smell from it alone makes Prompto want to gag. He tries a couple times to spit it out, only for that to earn him a harsh slap and an order not to do that. Then the man stands up, leaving Prompto bound on the floor as he himself joins the other man in looting whatever items of even marginal value may be in the store. Prompto stays still in his uncomfortable position as they move about around him, not daring to move. All through this some small part of Prompto has been hoping that someone would appear to intervene, or would notice the disturbance and call for help, but now the reality of the situation is settling in. And the uncomfortable reality is that if no one has come running at this point then it's likely no one will. Gunshots in this area aren't a rarity, and Prompto is beginning to suspect that even if he had reached the emergency button the police wouldn't have come. The hopelessness of it all settles heavily in his stomach.

Prompto doesn't know how long he lays still there, but eventually the pull on his shoulders and the rope digging into the skin around his wrists gets too bad. With considerable effort he begins turning himself over on the side, to a position that is hopefully less straining. The movement catches the attention of one of the men though, the one carrying the gun, and he strides over. Prompto can see a dangerous twinkle in his eyes through the holes in the mask. Correctly guessing that that cannot mean anything good, Prompto keeps squirming and kicks his feet on the floor in an attempt to scurry away. He wants as much distance between himself and the man as possible. The man cackles at this and crouches down on the floor, where he quickly grabs hold of one of Prompto's flailing legs and drags him back. His tightly bound hands scraping against the tile floor makes pain flare up beneath Prompto, and he whines desperately into the gag.

When Prompto is deemed to be close enough the man lets go of his legs, and before he gets the chance to try anything again the man leans over him and tightens a strong hand around his chin. Prompto's eyes are wide and fearful now when the man's fingers are digging into his face with bruising force. "Didn't I tell you not to move around?" He all but spits in Prompto's face. Prompto makes no motion in reply. He only shuts his eyes tightly in pain when the man suddenly yanks his head up uncomfortably, only to slam it back down into the floor. Pain explodes from the back of Prompto's head, and he cries out into the gag. The man yanks him back up again, this time by his shirt, and Prompto follows limply. Just then, as Prompto sits half upright in the man's grip waiting for the inevitable pain, the unmistakeable sound of the door opening and closing stops everyone in their tracks.

There, by the door, is Noctis. The realization hits Prompto that his shift must've ended. Noct has come here for him, and relief fills his chest to the brim. At the sight that meets him Noct has also stopped dead in his tracks. With wide eyes he looks from Prompto on the floor to the man holding him and then back again. Then Prompto yells into the gag and wrenches himself out of the man's grip, and it's like the standstill in the room is broken. In the ensuing chaos Prompto just barely has time to see sparks beginning to fly around Noct's hand as he's about to pull something out of the armiger. The man then quickly grabs hold of Prompto again and jams the butt of the gun hard into the side of his head. He's then harshly shoved to the side as the man springs into action, and lands painfully on the hard floor. Black spots dance around the edges of his vision from the pistol-whip and though he tries he doesn't have the strength to sit up again.

He can't see clearly what's going on, only blurred bodies and sparks. Then a gunshot rings out, and another one, and then an enraged yell from one of the men. Worry seeps into Prompto's confused mind, and the longer the scuffle goes on the more it grows. He wants Noctis to be okay, he wants them both to get out of here. By the time the noise comes to an end Prompto is blinking rapidly to try to stop the tears threatening to spill. They're not helping his vision one bit, so when a silhouette hurries towards him fear spikes in him for a short moment. But this one doesn't have a mask, and two larger silhouettes are left behind it.

"N-Noct." He whimpers when the gag is carefully removed and tossed to the side. Above him there's some soft cursing, and then Noctis gently grabs his aching shoulders and helps Prompto sit up straight.

"I- yeah- shit, I'm here Prom." Noct says, fumbling a little with his words as he takes in the state Prom is in, and his brows crease in worry. "What was that?" he asks, nodding hastily towards the men on the ground some ways behind him. They seem to be unconscious now, and Prompto swallows hard before he answers.

"Robbery?" he offers weakly, accompanied by an attempted smile that doesn't quite translate on his tired face. Noctis looks at his with wide, worried eyes. Then it seems he realizes, or remembers maybe, that Prompto's hands are still bound. Again, sparks fly in the air as Noctis summons one of his daggers to cut Prompto free. The ropes are so tight it's difficult to do without accidentally nicking Prom's skin in the process but eventually it works, and Prompto can finally move his arms properly. Almost immediately his shoulders sag in relief, but Prompto's breath hitches when he brings his hands in front of himself again and sees the state they're in. Noctis obviously has a similar reaction and lets slip a small gasp.

The skin around Prompto's wrists and a bit further up the arm is rubbed red and raw by the coarse rope, bruises are already forming where the first rope was tied, and multiple other places blood has been drawn. Most of which cannot possibly be from Noctis' careful cutting. Prompto doesn't say anything, he doesn't know what to say. He only stares at his own trembling hands for a while, seeming almost scared to move them. It's only when Noct extends his own hands and carefully grabs hold of them that Prompto looks up. Noct manages to send Prom a reassuring smile, though a somewhat shaky one still. He begins rubbing his thumbs in soft circles on Prompto's hands, careful to avoid the most severe bruises and cuts, and Prompto lets out a long, wobbly sigh.

"Thank you." Prompto says finally.

"Of course," is Noct's answer, low and genuine. "do you think you can stand?"

Prompto isn't quite sure, but they try regardless. Turns out he can both stand and walk on shaky legs, provided it's with support from Noct. Support he readily gives. They make their way out of the gas station store, and Noctis can't resist giving one of the men an extra kick as they pass them. Then Noct calls Gladio to come pick them up and notifies him of the incident, even if local police likely wouldn't do much Noctis isn't going to let this go so easily. As they sit and wait, leaning their backs against the wall, Prompto nearly dozes off. His head resting on Noct's shoulder. And all the while, Noct never lets go of Prompto's hands and keeps rubbing small calming circles across his skin.

#whumptober2021 #whumptober 2021 #no. 1 #bound #final fantasy xv #ffxv whump #whump writing #tw: restrained #whump #my writing #tied up #restrained #prompto argentum whump #ffxv prompto #ffxv noctis #manhandling #robbery #rope burns

[impulsive-decisions-for-lupin]

Hey hope you're well can i request something for jigen daisuke with a s/o who isn't a theif and lets him and lupin spend the night at their house after an unsuccessful heist? Hope that was specific :)

Sure thing, anon! (This took me too long :’) hopefully you enjoy this 3.5k fic of shambles) 📻

Night Time Drop-In

Pairing: Jigen Daisuke x Reader

The late hours of the night offered a peace and solitude that differed from other times. You often found yourself up, despite the negative toll it took on your sleep schedule, occupying your time with a variety of things. Sometimes you would scroll online for hours at a time, waving away boredom with videos of your interests or with articles or other things. Other times, you would indulge yourself into hobbies you had (sometimes trying out other things, adopting or dropping it depending if it was a good fit for you). And sometimes, you would just stare out the window, gazing out towards the city you resided in, taking in the night scene.

This was one of those nights.

A sigh passed through your lips, a visible puff of air presenting itself from the condensation within the air. It was far too cold to have a window open, but the faint sound of sirens beckoned you forward with no concern for the chilliness.

Sirens were as common as they came, and while hearing one meant something was about to go down, you couldn’t help but feel a twitch of hope fill you upon hearing it. For every time you heard one, there was a possibility you’d see your love again. A slim chance, yes, but a chance nonetheless.

The screech of car tires and a call of nearing sirens caught your attention. You leaned out your window for a better look, and from the light of a streetlight you saw a yellow car round the corner and hightail it up your street. A smile spread on your lips at the sight of the yellow car. The fiat 500 classic was recognizable for you just at a glance, and as it passed the streetlight in front of your home you caught a glimpse of the inhabitants inside the fiat 500. Two men sat in the driver and passenger seats; one of them, the one your eyes settled on in the split second of the streetlight, donned a hat that hid half his face.

You couldn’t help but feel giddy.

You turned your head to watch the yellow fiat speed down the street before turning into an alleyway. Your head whipped back to the corner, where a couple police cars had just started to turn the corner and speed through the street. The police cars and the sirens quickly faded. A couple minutes passed, and your gaze would flicker over to the alleyway, in hopes that the fiat would return into view, or that the fiat’s inhibitors would come into view.

It only occured to you then of the breath you were holding. You exhaled, feeling the chilly air tingle the inside of your throat as you breathed in. The fiat’s appearance was a welcoming one, since it had been a while since you last saw it. So seeing it now really took your breath away.

The stir of an ongoing-engine pulled your eyes to the alleyway again. A study rise in your heartbeat grew until you swore it could leap out of your chest, and at the worst possible second you heard the rumbling engine cut off. The smile that had been on your lips faltered.

Did he leave? The thought nipped at you, but you shook your head in dismissal. No, of course not. He wouldn’t just leave after appearing. Jigen isn’t like that. The goosebumps running up your arms became apparent to you, and you rubbed your arms in an attempt to warm yourself. You couldn’t bear the thought of him coming to the city and leaving without saying hello.

Them being in the city.. did they plan a heist here? Was it successful?

Two familiar figures approached from the shadows of the alleyway, and when the light’s end made them recognizable to you a wave of exhilaration washed over you. In a flurry you left the window and made your way over to the door, slipping on some slippers as you hurried out the door. After a brisk walk down the hall and descending the flight of stairs down to the ground floor, your footsteps echoing through the hall, you hurried to the main doors that led into the apartment building. Through the window you spied the two men nearing the apartment, and when opening the door the cold air bit at your skin. But you couldn’t spare a moment to curse out the temperature; happiness pinched you, seeing the two men on the other side of the door.

The gentleman thief Arsène Lupin iii, and the gunman of the show, and your love, Daisuke Jigen.

“Jigen, Lupin- it’s been a while,” you said, your smile unwavering.

“It sure has,” Jigen says. A smile of his own peeked from the shadow cast on his face by his hat, and as you studied his face you noticed some grime on his cheek and over his nose, and on the front of his dress shirt. This made you raise an eyebrow.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Lupin piped up, his usual grin ever present. A once-over of the gentleman thief showed you he had grime smeared on him and his clothes too.

Two usually-tidy men with grime smeared on them and their clothes. An odd sight, to you. Before you could ask, a sheepish smile swapped Lupin’s previous grin while Jigen pulled the front of his hat lower as he glanced away. “Excuse the dirt,” Lupin says, waving off the look you had. “Mind letting us in?”

You nodded, beckoning them inside and closing the door behind them once they came in. You studied them for a moment, looking for blood or injuries. They looked fine, but she couldn’t be too sure. “Are you guys okay? Any injuries? Bullet wounds?” It’s been a bit since you had to patch one or all of them up. You kept the medic kit updated for whenever they’d visit, and after a couple of them she had gotten some more-qualified tools to help with taking care of injuries.

“Just a sore back,” Jigen says.

“Other than that, we’re perfectly fine,” Lupin said. “We were pretty lucky to get out unscathed. They shot at the fiat though-” he lets out a sigh, reaching up and rubbing at his head as he glanced away. “God, I don’t even know how many times I’ve had to replace the windows and other parts. We don’t always have money lying around to replace what other people destroy!”

“Lucky indeed, and a drag,” Jigen pipes up.

You hummed in response, nodding. “With the fiat in the condition it’s in though, is it safe to leave it unattended?”

“It’ll be fine,” Lupin said, dismissing your concern. “Besides, the only thing probably worth stealing from it is car parts, but the folks around here don’t mess with stuff that’s not theirs, right? So it’ll be okay.”

“If you say so,” you mumbled. You noticed the dirty footsteps the two men tracked in, your nose scrunching up in revulsion. You were going to have to mop the floor in your apartment sometime later, probably. “Your tracking dirt in. You guys can use my shower to clean up.”

Jigen turned his sole up to check at her mention, a ‘sorry’ coming from him. He opened the door, letting the chilly air in as he scraped his soles on the ground to get rid of the dirt. Lupin, on the other hand, jumped at the offer to use your shower.

“How kind of you!” he said, not noticing his tone becoming loud.

“Hush! You’ll wake up the neighbors,” you hissed at Lupin. Lupin chortled before making his way to the stairs, leaving you and Jigen behind a couple feet. You glared at the floor as Lupin walked off, his dirty shoes tracking filth on the hallway, before you turned away to look at Jigen, who came in again and closed the door behind him. With his partner’s back turned Jigen pecked your cheek hastily, saying he was glad to see you again. You beamed up at him, taking his hand and squeezing it before tugging him with you to catch up to Lupin. Jigen’s affection usually came in private, when it was just the two of you, but sometimes he’d sneak a peck (and you would too) when no one else was looking. Those were some of your favorite moments; alas, they were few, as you both would go months without seeing one another due to his adventures with his friends and being on the run from the law. While you would be lonely and yearn for him, you were able to keep yourself busy to avoid the thinking and longing, with the times Jigen would appear being spent with you together. Sometimes he’d be with you for a couple days (a week, if you were lucky), but most times it’d be a night before he had to leave.

“How've you been since I was gone?” Jigen asked. As you two got up the stairs, you heard Lupin call to you guys in a whispered tone to hurry up. “We’re coming, we’re coming, jeez, Lupin.”

“I’ve been keeping myself busy,” you replied to his question. You then shrugged a little, before adding, “If I have to admit, it’s been a little lonely.”

Jigen chuckled, his free hand adjusting the brim of his hat as his eye peaked out from underneath. You adored seeing his eyes, even if Jigen said they were nothing special. “It’s a good thing I’m here, then.”

You nodded in agreement, a soft giggle leaving you.

You reached the floor your apartment was on, and saw Lupin standing where your door was, leaning against it and tapping his shoe against the floor in an impatient manner. “And where are you on a rush to?” you ask.

“I’m just taking you up on your offer for using your shower is all,” Lupin says. You roll your eyes as you waved him away.

“The door’s open,” you tell him. “Don’t make a mess.”

“You got it!” Lupin calls behind him as he hurries into the apartment after opening the door.

“Don’t yell!” you hissed again, before groaning upon realizing he left the door wide open. “And don’t keep the door open-”

“Don’t take all the hot water,” Jigen calls after him, this time tugging you with him into your apartment. Lupin didn’t respond; only a jolly hum coming from the bathroom as you heard the shower turn on. You closed the door once getting inside, watching as Jigen knocked on the bathroom door, telling Lupin to not take a long time.

“Stop worrying, Jigen!” Lupin called over. “Just go snuggle with (y/n) while you wait!”

“God, the neighbors are gonna wake up if you don’t shut up,” you said. You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “The last thing I want is to have the police called because I’m harbouring criminals.” They would consider you an accomplice. That wouldn’t be good- you were no thief, just a regular citizen of the law. If anything, due to your relationship with Jigen, an affiliate would be more accurate. That was your only crime- except maybe for that one time you went fifteen miles over the speed limit to try and get to work, already being a half hour late.

“Sorry about ‘im,” you heard Jigen say. He moved over to you, and you wrapped your arms around him in a hug and rested your head against his chest. You didn’t care if you got dirty from the dirt on his clothes; you missed the closeness between the two of you. Jigen’s arms soon found their place around your waist in a cozy embrace, a satisfied hum leaving him. “I missed you so much.” His words came out in a soft whisper.

You smiled softly. “I missed you so much, too,” you whispered in return. You squeezed him in your embrace before loosening an arm around him to cup the side of his face. Some of the grime on his face caught your eye; you rubbed your thumb over a small patch of it, Jigen squinting his eye while your thumb became grime-coated. “How on earth did you and Lupin get so much grime on you? It looks like you rolled in the dirt, for pete’s sake,” you said jokingly. From your angle, you had a good look of his face, being able to see the features his hat brim’s shadow casted on him.

“That’s not too far off,” Jigen admits. An unbridled feeling of euphoria burst in you as Jigen leaned into your hand, the smile he was wearing gentle. He releases an arm and rests his hand atop yours, his gaze shirking away from yours as his smile twitched a little. “You know that museum about five, eight minutes from here? With that famous alexandrite gemstone necklace?”

You cocked your head to the side in curiosity, nodding. You knew what he was talking about, having heard that the expensive piece would be displayed for a limited time at the museum that week. “I know what you’re talking about- the necklace just got showcased today.” You guys stole it, you figured. They were thieves, afterall, so this wasn’t news to you. It did explain their unexpected arrival though.

“Yeah, well..” Jigen let out a sigh, his hand slipping from yours to scratch his cheek. “The heist didn’t go as we thought. Somehow we looked over another security system the museum had, and the police got there before we could even snatch the necklace.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you nodded your head in understanding. “What a waste, too-” Jigen mumbled, his hand propping on top of his hat before pushing it down to hide part of his face. “We got inside, didn’t get caught by security, almost got to the alexandrite necklace-”

“Hey now,” you interjected, cutting him off. You hated it when Jigen talked like this. Sure, sometimes their heists didn’t go as planned (either from Fujiko, the police, or some other force, you’ve heard enough stories from Jigen and his friends), but all they could do was try again next time or turn their sights to a different prize. With a softened gaze you kissed Jigen's bearded chin, causing him to look back at you. "You tried your best, and that's all there is to it," you state simply. Jigen was still for a moment before nodding his head. "If you need to, you two can stay here for a couple days to reassess the new security they'll probably have up. And Goemon is welcome to stay here too, if he likes."

"All three of us?" Jigen asked, surprised. "You're a really good host, but don't you think three of us would be hard to handle?"

"Just don't break anything or get the cops called here, and I think we'll all do just fine," you assured him. Then, teasingly, you add, “Besides, don’t you have faith in me?”

A chuckle came from the man you embraced. “I do, I do. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The running water from the bathroom shut off, telling you Lupin was finished. “That won’t be a problem,” you tell Jigen. You lean up and kiss him, feeling him smile against your lips before pulling away. “I’ll get the couch ready for Lupin,” you say.

Jigen hums in reply, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead before saying, “Alright.” A giggle escaped you as his beard tickled your skin, followed by another as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You turned your head and kissed him just below his lips, and felt Jigen’s chest rumble as he chuckled.

Just as Jigen leaned down to kiss you once more the bathroom door opened, revealing Lupin in the doorway with a white tank top and a pair of striped boxers. He was smiling, unashamedly staring at your and Jigen’s affectionate display. Jigen’s stop-mid-kiss had his cheek pressed against yours and both your heads turned to face Lupin, which only looked to amuse him more.

“Oh? Was I interrupting something?” he asked, feigning an innocent act. “My, my- what a sight, seeing Jigen all affectionate with his darling.”

“You’re always interrupting,” Jigen grumbled, scowling at his friend. “Go pick up your clothes- it’s my turn to use the shower.”

“Okay, okay- yeesh.”

As Lupin turned to pick up his dirtied garments, Jigen mumbled something to himself about ‘bad timing,’ kissing your cheek once more before pulling away. “Do you need to take a shower at all?” he asked. You shook your head, saying you already took one hours ago. Jigen nods, humming in reply before asking, “Did I leave some clothes here from last time I visited?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I kept them in the bottom drawer.” You took his hand and showed him to your bedroom, pointing to said drawer of your dresser before going to find some blankets to make a makeshift bed for Lupin. In a matter of minutes Jigen was in the bathroom taking his shower while you helped Lupin. Lupin’s clothes were getting washed in the washer, and once those were done you would have Jigen put his clothes in to get washed. You asked Lupin if he was comfortable, receiving a nod from him.

“Yep, I’ll be sleeping like a baby tonight!” Lupin replied cheerily from his spot on the couch. You sat in the arm chair beside the end of the couch, waiting for Jigen to finish up so they could retire for the rest of the night.

It’s already morning hours, you thought to yourself, checking the time on the wall clock. We’ll all be sleeping into the afternoon, probably. And I guess Goemon won’t be turning up soon- maybe he’s staying at a hotel for the night, or something. You turned to look over at Lupin, seeing him study the living room with a drowsy face. A lit cigarette hung from his lips before he pulled it out and held it between his fingers. “Hey, Lupin.” He turned his attention to you. “I told Jigen that you two and Goemon are welcome to stay a couple days if you need to. Depending on how much the museum ups their security because  of your heist tonight, you’ll have to figure out a way around it. Your fiat isn’t in the best condition, either, so getting it repaired before you leave would be wise.”

“You’re not wrong- the security will definitely be heightened, and my car isn’t in the best condition. But, ‘welcome to stay?’” Lupin repeats, his face matching Jigen’s when she told him they could stay. He breaks into a smile. “Gee, I never expected that, but thank you, really. Y’know, I’m glad Jigen found a gal like you; he’s still a big grump sometimes, but I know he gets really happy whenever he gets to see you.”

A fuzzy feeling warmed you at hearing Lupin’s words, nodding in response. You found it endearing, how Lupin was in regards to Jigen and your relationship; he was happy for you and him. ‘Especially since things were looking to turn around for Jigen,’ Lupin would say.

“You’re not thinking of anything all sappy, are you, (y/n)?” Lupin asked, interjecting your thoughts. You shook your head ‘no,’ although the smile you failed to bite back was apparent to the monkey-man. “You totally are! Probably something about Jigen’s smile, or me looking out for the guy, or about Jigen being-”

“You better watch yourself, Lupin. I can kick you out if I need to.”

“I’m done,” you heard Jigen say from the doorway. You turned over onto your side, smiling to him and beckoning him to get into the bed. He complied, first setting his old clothes on the small table at the end of your bed with his hat on top of the pile, before climbing into the bed and joining you beneath the covers. You set the book you’d been reading on your bedside table before turning over again and facing Jigen. You couldn’t resist a grin when seeing Jigen in his nightgown and cap, despite the weird look he gave you. "What's the face for? You've seen me wear this."

“I know, I know," you say, humming softly. You felt Jigen's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him and his warmth. You curled your arms in a loose hold around him in return, your fingers rubbing soft circles and lines into his back while he fiddled with the ends of your hair.

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, your breathing matching his own. You leaned into Jigen, tilting your head up to admire him. His eyes were closed and face was relaxed, and the soft rise and fall of his chest dozed you toward sleep. A small smile graced your lips as you tucked your head into his chest. “I love you,” you whispered to him.

A squeeze from Jigen in your embrace came as your response. “I love you, too,” followed thereafter.

#lupin iii #jigen daisuke #jigen x reader #jigen daisuke x reader

[nct-lian]

people who have a crush on lian (outside of the group)

ERIC SOHN, THE BOYZ

duration: april 2020 — present

he actually developed a crush on her after he had watched the music video to her pre-release single, “stay tonight.” he thought she looked SO good and went on to talk about how much he loved that kind of concept on her for weeks on end.

eric obviously knew about her prior to his discovery of the song, having a member that’s been great friends with her for about a year.

he thinks that if kevin would stop hogging lian and actually let her interact with more of the members, he’d be able to “win her over” but according to kevin, she’s his best friend and his best friend only.

do fans know?: yes

fans of both the boyz and nct figured out that eric had a little bit of a crush on her after watching the english line’s episode of the k-pop daebak show with eric nam.

it was the section of which eric nam was reading out all the questions jacob, kevin and eric had sent in for each other, and one of kevin’s questions for eric was, “do you have a crush on my best friend?”

eric nam widened his eyes, “you have a best friend that he has a crush on?” he asked kevin, who was trying not to laugh hysterically at the question that had resurfaced. “he might,” kevin nodded.

“jacob, do you know who he’s talking about?” jacob nodded and suppressed his giggle by lifting the pillow he was hugging tightly to his chest and covering his face with it.

eric held a look on his face that screamed, “i’ve been personally victimized” as he shot his head back and forth between kevin and the other two older men in the room.

“i don’t have a crush on your best friend.. well- you know- like- maybe a celebrity crush.”

kevin cackled, “she’s not a celebrity-” eric nam laughed at that and shrugged his shoulders when eric turned to him for some help. “i don’t even know who’s he’s talking about, don’t look at me!”

“to you!” eric shot back at kevin, implying that he obviously wasn’t going to see her as a celebrity, given their best friend status.

jacob let him himself laugh, “eric, it’s okay, you make it so obvious sometimes.” he reassured his younger member.

eric stuttered over his words and kept shaking his head. “it’s a celebrity crush. no real feelings.” he stated.

the man across from him, again, shrugged his shoulders in confusion. “i still don’t know who we’re talking about?”

kevin apologized and clapped his hands together, “she’s actually schedules to come on this show.” he smiled and threw him a thumbs up. “is she really? oh, i think i know who it is, then.” eric nam made a face and looked at kevin and jacob, who both matched his expression.

then they all looked at eric, “why are you guys looking at me like that? okay, next question.” he smiled in attempt to change the topic. eric obeyed, feeling bad that they were sort of teasing him, while the two others just laughed.

current status: acquaintances (they met through kevin moon)

( FIRST MEETING ) lian had been waiting at the door of kevin’s dormitory for a minute too long, and no matter how many times she knocked, nobody would answer. they were supposed to be going on a walk in order to catch up before their weekly schedules. 

lian pulled out her phone and called kevin through facetime, him answering almost immediately. “kevin, why aren’t you answering? i’ve been knocking nonstop.” 

he rolled his eyes and told her to just come in and that he’ll be a minute because he can’t find any shoes that look good with his outfit. 

she hung up on him and walked inside, greeted with the sight of the boyz’s maknae on the couch. she stopped in her tracks and watched as he scrambled to his feet in panic. “s-sunbaenim, what are you doing here?” eric scratched the back of his neck.

“huh? oh! i’m just waiting for kevin to finish getting ready.” she smiled politely and looked at everything but him, finding the interior of their dorm rather interesting at that moment.

getting uncomfortable with the awkward atmosphere her and eric had created, she yelled out for kevin to hurry up. “moon hyungseo!” she called him by his korean name, knowing that he didn’t like it.

“don’t you dare call me that, bae haneul!” he shot back at her, stumbling out of his room while trying to put on his left shoe.

she chuckled, “hah, jokes on you, i actually like my korean name.” he stuck his tongue out at her, “okay idiot, let’s just go.”

he opened the door for her so she could walk out first, “uhh, bye eric.” lian waved at him with a tight smile before exiting the dorm, kevin following after her.

eric waited for the door to close before he returned her goodbye, giggling like a little schoolboy who’d just received a lolipop.

“she knows my name.” a bright smile replaced the awkward frown on his face.

crush percentage out of 100: 60%

BANG CHAN, STRAY KIDS

duration: unknown — present

chan can remember keeping up with smrookies while he was still a trainee, and he developed some sort of jealousy towards lian. he saw her grow as a person, not just an artist. 

he watched her debut first, he watched her transition from red velvet into nct, he watched her achieve his dreams before he could.

this jealousy overtime somehow turned into feelings, and he had no idea what kind of feelings they exactly were.

he hadn’t ever really experienced feelings like this before, and he was terrified to admit what he thought they were. eventually, chan opened up to someone and it was clear that he had a bit of a crush on her — and a big one.

chan began to update himself on smrookies daily, constantly wanting to know what she was up to and what her debut plans were, especially because of the sudden group change.

even now that they’re great friends, he’s always calling her to see what’s going on and if she needs help with anything.

do fans know?: definitely

no doubt do stays know about his feelings — he was bound to slip up once or twice while live streaming to them.

and that slip up just so happened to be while he was reacting to lian’s “play” music video. everything was going fine — bopping his head to the beat and humming calmly, but he couldn’t stop the blush from spreading onto his cheeks while watching her dance with another guy.

yeah, he was jealous, but that doesn’t mean stays had to know. he hysterically fanned his face, somewhat over exaggerating to play it off. “oh- woah- is the ac not working in here suddenly?” he playfully laughed at the camera facing him.

the song soon ended, and chan was back to reading all of the comments. he read some aloud, some in his head, but he accidentally let one slip through his lips.

“do you have a crush on neullie?” he nearly cursed when he realized the question he had just read to the entire live stream said what it said, allowing himself to sit back in his chair as he watched all the comments flood in.

“well, do you?” “CHAN OMFG-” “christopher bang..”

“guys, come on, of course i don’t.” the viewers definitely wanted to believe him; like, a lot, but they couldn’t.

the way he smiles whenever she was brought up in a conversation, how he looks so incredibly proud when talking about her — it would be a complete lie to believe otherwise.

current status: good friends

( FIRST MEETING ) changed out of the sparkly, sequinned dress she’d been wearing for the last couple of hours and now sitting in a pair of sweats and a zip up, lian couldn’t be happier.

finally out of the uncomfortably tall heels and being able to sit down on a cushy sofa while waiting to leave the venue, lian pulled out her phone to check notifications.

five minutes probably passed before her manager gave her the “okay” to start walking to the exit, the car already waiting for her outside.

leaving the dressing room, she saw taeyong, who decided to tag along with the driver (and taeil) so he could see her. “hey, oppa.” she greeted, grabbing onto his arm and leaning on his shoulder for support.

“did you have fun? were you able to see sunmi-sunbaenim today?” he patted her hand slowly. she nodded and made a noise in confirmation, way too tired to give an audible response.

taeyong chuckled as he made sure to keep her upright while getting closer to the exit.

meanwhile, bang chan was talking with felix a couple feet away. he felt bad watching as taeyong struggled to help lian balance herself on her, for sure, wobbly legs.

he saw how terrific she danced that night, completely dominating the stage with her powerful choreography and her clear vocals.

subtly walking in their direction, he put his hand out the minute taeyong’s arm wasn’t able to hold her up anymore. lian looked like she was sleeping at that point.

chan gracefully caught her in his arms, taeyong apologizing and taking her back into his own. “i’m so sorry-” he bowed.

“no, no, it’s okay. she must be tired- uh- would you like some help?” chan offered a helping hand, but taeyong was sure he had other duties to attend to, being the leader of his group and all.

“no! please, i got it from here. thank you for catching her, though, you have no idea what yuta would have done to me if something happened- uh, i’m getting ahead of myself. have a good night.” he noticed how he began rambling on, but chan paid no mind to it.

laughing and keeping the air light, chan nodded his head and bowed, about to walk away after wishing him a safe trip back to the dorms; but that was when lian decided to wake up from her slumber.

“huh?” she looked at taeyong cluelessly, but chan caught her eye. it was then that she noticed johnny’s grey zip up was halfway down her arms, spaghetti strapped tank top (pretty revealing) on full display.

she hastily pulled the sleeves up and looked at chan awkwardly, bowing to him and proceeding to ask taeyong if they were going home.

taeyong nodded his head and put a hand on her shoulder, “yeah, the car is waiting outside. taeil’s in the backseat with your pillow.” he smiled.

lian’s smiled back with a toothy grin, clapping her hands excitedly as she now knew she would be able to sleep on the way home. again realizing chan was watching, she looked back to him.

“it was nice meeting you!” lian waved her hand at him, grabbing onto taeyong’s arm and gently dragging him towards the door leading outside. he complied, but not without shouting yet another “thank you!” to chan, who was still standing in the same spot.

crush percentage out of 100: 90%

CHOI SOOBIN, TOMORROW X TOGETHER

duration: october 2018 — present

soobin was really able to learn more about the different variety of idols in the industry when he first joined bighit, and that surely included lian. he admired her so much; she became one of the people he looked up to most.

she was the only female member in a group that included eighteen other men, how could he not immediately think the highest of her after finding that out?

he would keep up with her scheduling and make sure to listen in on her radio show appearances so he could stay updated. he even bought all of her solo albums so he could put her photocard in the back of his phone case!

do fans know?: yes

moas aren’t even able to count on their fingers the amount of times soobin has said lian was his ideal type or his #1 crush. like, the first couple appearances he had on camera post debut, her photocard was literally still in his phone case.

“moas are asking if you still have a crush on lian-sunbaenim.” yeonjun nodded his head towards soobin, the members of txt all sitting comfortably on the floor of a practice room.

soobin lightly brushed his hair out of his face as he nodded his head, “yeah, she’s gotten even prettier lately. have you see her new music video?” beomgyu nodded excitedly.

“it’s super good! the album is amazing, as well.” he beamed at the phone that was filming them and clapped his hands.

“yah, don’t get too excited; soobinnie will get jealous~” yeonjun teased. soobin playfully hit his hyung on the shoulder and told him to be less embarrassing, a small blush now resting on his dimpled cheeks.

hueningkai and taehyun both laughed at their leader, agreeing that lian has certainly gotten prettier, if that was even possible. the topic was soon over as they began talking about something else, but moas definitely added that into their list of “soobin fanboying over lian” moments.

look forward to the fifteen million new youtube videos about it!

current status: acquaintances, idol x fan

( FIRST MEETING ) soobin almost jumped straight out of his seat when he noticed the goddess herself, lian, walk into the section him and his group were currently in. he watched her bow to the members of itzy before sitting next to them and placing a fluffy blanket onto her lap.

she had just finished performing, and he was still shaking at how perfect it was played out; the sparkly outfits, the amazing choreography, her powerful vocals yet again never disappointed.

the curfew for underage idols now being hit, soobin and yeonjun both bid goodbye to their younger members as lian, yeji and lia did the same for ryujin, chaeryeong and yuna.

the three girls sitting in front of their section soon ran out of things to talk about while waiting for bts to perform their stage, a comforting silence falling upon them. lian allowed her eyes to wonder around her surroundings and ended up unconsciously turning around and staring right at the two members of txt that were left.

yeonjun seemed to have paid no mind to her lingering gaze, but soobin on the other hand could have sworn his heart dropped out of his ass at that very moment. lian, now shaken out of her thoughts, noticed how creepy she probably looked.

bowing in apology, she quickly turned around to talk with lia once again in order to distract herself from the embarrassment that was currently enveloping her whole.

once he knew lian was too invested in her conversation to notice his quiet squeal, he excitedly began bouncing his legs up and down on the cold floor and repeatedly hit yeonjun’s arm.

“huh, what? what’s wrong?” confusion took over his face, wondering why soobin was practically having a heart attack next to him.

“hyung- she looked at me! right at my face! lianna bae looked at me!” yeonjun couldn’t help but scoff at how incredibly excited soobin seemed to be at such a little thing, but it was cute.

crush percentage out of 100: 78%

KIM TAEHYUNG, BANGTAN SONYEONDAN

duration: somewhere in 2019 — present

taehyung has seen lian here and there whenever he browsed twitter on his secret account, and he’s definitely noticed the constant shipping and dating rumours that went on between their fandoms.

the fanwars, the manips — they’ve all been seen by him at some point in time; but he has to admit that from the manips he’s been able to get a good look at, him and lian would actually make a pretty nice looking couple.

but you didn’t hear that from him tf :)

do fans know?: kind of

the calming beat of lian’s “my friend” played in the background of taehyung’s vlive, the viewers all watching him eat peacefully and answer some of their questions.

“are you a fan of lian?” taehyung slowly read out the question as he tried to slurp some of his soup up at the same time. “yes, i like her music a lot..” he trailed off, once again focusing on finishing his soup.

he ate his last spoonful shortly after, continuing his sentence, “i noticed she likes to experiment a lot.. it’s admirable.” he smiled fondly and switched to another song on his playlist after “my friend” ended.

“uh, she’s also really pretty; she fits my ideal type well.” he allowed himself to giggle, somewhat playing it off so the atmosphere on the stream stayed comfortable.

the topic of lian never reappeared that night, fortunately for him, but when he was chaotically woken up the next morning by jungkook, he saw at least five headlines about how he admitted to having a crush on lian.

current status: friends (?)

( FIRST MEETING ) venturing off and losing his members during isac was never taehyung’s intention, but he was able to see some of his friends, so it wasn’t exactly a bad thing. he met a few idols and befriended them, trading phone numbers with a couple new people before heading off to regroup with his six roommates.

on his way there, however, a girl with green sweatpants and a white long sleeved t-shirt caught his eye. he recognized her as nct’s only female member, who was currently running around with seulgi of red velvet.

if he was being completely honest with himself, he’d love to join in on the fun they looked like they were having, but he instead continued on with his journey towards bts. even after a couple minutes of searching around the large stadium he was still unable to find his members.

eventually giving up on his mission, he just decided to back to wherever he last saw some entertainment. he found himself now engaged in a conversation with johnny suh, looking back at lian every now and then to see if she’s gone anywhere.

after a little while, johnny seemed to have caught on, “why are you staring at lian?” taehyung jumped at the question, shrugging his shoulders awkwardly and turning to fully look at the older male beside him.

“uh, i can ask her to come over here if you want. i’ll be a wingman,” johnny winked playfully at the fellow idol, and went over to grab lian before taehyung was able to give a solid answer.

“hey, lian, taeyong wants to talk to you.” he grabbed her hand, and began to drag her towards the bts member, who was literally shitting his pants. seulgi on the other hand, was following the two to wherever lian needed to be, not quite ready to leave.

“noona, go away.” johnny lightly pushed seulgi away from lian, being a shot an “i’m incredibly offended, you’re dead to me” look as as she stomped away from them and over to joy and wendy.

lian silently followed johnny to where “taeyong” was but instead she was met with the face of kim taehyung. she looked back up at johnny with confusion written all over her features, but he shrugged his shoulders and walked away as well.

now, they were just standing there awkwardly looking at each other with nothing to say. “uh, hi, you’re not taeyong.” lian laughed to break the ice, taehyung following shortly after. “yeah, i don’t know what he was trying to do here.” lian nodded in agreement.

lian suddenly became aware of all the fans in the audience and the numerous amounts of fansites that probably had their cameras facing directly at her.

she was able to wrap up her conversation with taehyung pretty quickly, making a mental note in her head of the phone number he’d given her so they could talk later.

once taehyung walked away as he’d finally caught sight of yoongi, lian stomped over to the member of nct 127 and roughly pushed johnny into jungwoo, but he was far too strong to be toppled over like she wanted.

“you idiot, why would you do that? that was so awkward, i hate you and i’m not cooking for you ever again.” johnny simply laughed and ruffled her hair, turning back to hyuck, who was also laughing at her.

she huffed as she was engulfed into a hug by yuta, who almost immediately asked what the hell they were talking about over there.

crush percentage out of 100: 40%

#lian: relationships #nct addition #nct female member #nct 127 #nct #nct dream #wayv #kim taehyung #bang chan #lianna bae #choi soobin #eric sohn #nct 127 added member #nct 127 female member #nct dream added member #nct dream female member #nct 22nd member #nct 24th member

[belphies-wife]

Hello! I was wondering if you could do the brothers (+Undatables of you can) reacting to MC turning into a troll. Idk how or why. But a troll (like from the movie trolls). I just need a good laugh, thank you. Have a great day.

I apologize for disappearing :( I’ve been really busy with schoolwork lately and Ramadan. The school year will end in a little less than two months, so work should be calming soon after we finish wrapping up our current units and doing our exams <3. Ramadan is over now, so I do have a bit of extra time on my hands. Hopefully, I’ll become more active soon <3. I probably won’t be back on my regular posting schedule for a while, but I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Here’s a study help carrd if you’re struggling with school/schoolwork or just want to check it out. I love you guys <3. Take care of yourselves <3

Now, without further ado, I present to you:

The Demon Brother’s Reacting to MC turning into a troll

»»————-　♔　-————««

➼ Now, you might be wondering: How and why did you end up in this situation?

➼ Well, to put it simply, you had realized that the demon brothers hadn’t watched many human world movies and were really missing out on some classics.

➼ So, it had become a habit for you to choose a movie for them to watch every Friday night.

➼ Eventually, your movie nights had turned into sleepovers in the family room.

➼ You started incorporating games and snacks.

➼ It became more of an organized event, and everyone took turns choosing the week’s game.

➼ It had been Satan’s turn, and he had made multiple batches of a potion that would cause the first that thought popped into your head two minutes after the potion’s ingestion to come to life.

➼ Well, not come to life. Basically, something would happen to you that had to do with that thought that popped into your head.

➼ The challenge was to keep your mind completely blank for two whole minutes.

➼ And it just to happened the movie you had picked was Trolls.

➼ So, as you can imagine, you drank the potion and attempted to keep your mind blank. You managed to get through about thirty seconds before thinking of the movie you had just watched.

➼ Poof, you were a troll.

➼ Your troll form still resembled you. Your skin tone remained the same, and your hair colour and texture hadn’t changed, other than the fact that it stood straight up.

Lucifer

➼ Humans were fragile enough as is, but now you were tiny?

➼ Do you know how close this man was to strangling Satan? How long until it wears off, anyway?

➼ Once he managed to calm down, he realizes how silly the situation is.

➼ He carried you around in his breast pocket and kept you on his desk while he worked, letting you entertain yourself by watching Devilflix on his D.D.D. If you got hungry, he would sleep you a small cookie and allow you to have a few sips of his tea.

➼ Honestly, he’s probably the most mature about it. He does occasionally tease you for your tiny size, though. And how ridiculous your hair looks.

»»————-　♔　-————««

Mammon

➼ He probably panicked the most out of everyone.

➼ He was full-on yelling at Satan to change you back or figure something out.

➼ When he eventually calmed down and insisted on picking you up.

➼ He refused to let you down on the ground because he was afraid that someone would step on you.

➼ He let you sit on his shoulder and took you wherever you needed to go.

➼ Unfortunately, he tended to forget that you were there and that he had to be careful with you. Otherwise, you might fall off.

➼ He caught you every time you did fall, though, and then apologized a couple hundred times. You’re not getting hurt under his watch.

➼ He tried to cook tiny, you-sized food, but it didn’t turn out well, so he just gave you some of his food and attempted to hide his disappointment.

➼ He found a small box and put towels and tiny pillows in there so that you could sleep comfortably.

➼ Of course, he put the box in his room, so if you needed anything, he’d be right there for you.

➼ The absolute relief he felt when you turned back

➼ It took a lot of convincing to get him to let you play the game again.

➼ Protective Mammon™

»»————-　♔　-————««

Leviathan

➼ If Mammon panicked most, then Levi was in second place.

➼ He wouldn’t let anyone else touch you or pick you up. He’d get jealous if someone so much as looked at you.

➼ “This is just like this one anime I watched called ‘My Best Friend Shrunk and Now I Have to Take Care of Them Until They Turn Back to Normal!’”

➼ He just kind of kept you in his room while he played games. He let you play on his DS when you got bored of watching him.

➼ He got you whatever you asked for and make sure you’re comfy the whole time too

➼ He even shared his special Ruri-Chan snacks with you because he cares about you that much <3

»»————-　♔　-————««

Satan

➼ He thought it was  h i l a r i o u s.

➼ He probably knew how to reverse your situation, but thought it was too funny, so he decided not to tell you until it wore off.

➼ Ohohoho the  s m a c c  that he got-

➼ But seriously, if your troll issue was genuinely bothering or upsetting you, he would have turned you back in a heartbeat.

➼ He also made fun of your hair.

»»————-　♔　-————««

Asmodeus

➼ Oh, this man gets you so many tiny clothes.

➼ Where did he even get them from? No idea. What store even sells clothes in troll sizes?

➼ Anyways, you were probably the most fashionably dressed troll in the Devildom. You were also the only troll in the Devildom.

➼ He absolutely adored your hair.

➼ Also, somehow got his hands on miniature hair accessories?

➼ Seriously, where is he getting this stuff from? And on such short notice?

➼ He takes a million pictures of you and posts them. You go viral on Devilgram.

➼ When you change back, you just have all these tiny clothes and accessories and have no idea what to do with them.

»»————-　♔　-————««

Beelzebub

➼ He was pretty worried about you.

➼ How couldn’t he be? You were so tiny! What if someone squished you? He would never forgive himself if you got hurt, even if he didn’t have anything to do with it.

➼ He was terrified of holding you at first because he was scared of doing something wrong and dropping you or crushing you as a result.

➼ You had to assure him a million times that you trusted him and that you were sure that he would never harm you.

➼ Even then, he was so careful with you that you’d think you were made of thin ice.

➼ Like Mammon, Beel also refused to let you out of his sight and panicked when he lost track of you.

➼ He thought you were adorable while you were little, though.

»»————-　♔　-————««

Belphegor

➼ Does not give a crap™ 

➼ Seriously. He was asleep when it happened and had to have everything explained to him when he woke up.

➼ He also thought it was hilarious and used it as an opportunity to bother you.

➼ “Holy crap, your hair looks like a skinny pyramid.”

➼ He gave you rainbow food and played overly-cheery music, along with the Trolls soundtrack, just to bother you.

➼ He played “Can’t Stop the Feeling” so much that Lucifer threatened to hang him from the ceiling multiple times.

➼ The fact that he was bothering Lucifer just egged him on.

➼ The entire House of Lamentation had that song memorized by the time you turned back.

➼ He probably also made you a little bed because even though he’s a piece of crap, he really loves you and wants you to be comfortable.

»»————-　♔　-————««

Thank you so much for reading! <3

Request a Fic/Headcanon || Obey Me Masterlist

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me fluff #fluff #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me belphegor x reader

[supraveng]

Moving On (1/?)

Summary: you have to confront your past....what could go wrong

Characters: former Bucky Barnes x reader, current ?? x reader, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Steve Rogers

A/N:  here is the angsty piece, it will have at least 2 more chapters; does not follow any MCU story line; flashback in italics; attempting an MCU/SPN crossover; let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapters

@mythandmagik​

Pulling up to the compound you weren’t sure what you expected, but surprisingly you were a lot calmer than you had anticipated.  You hadn’t seen most of the team in the 4 years since you moved to the SHIELD office in DC and you were excited but so much had changed.  You took a deep breath and grabbed your bags before exiting the car and heading inside.    

Tony greeted you immediately with a huge hug, it always amazed you how calming his hugs would make you, you pulled away after a quick kiss to the cheek and followed him through the compound.  “Your accommodations are right this way” he told you with a smirk.  “Wow, billionaire, genius and bellhop?  I wasn’t expecting that” you giggled.  

“I expect a good tip” Tony remarked as you followed him to the elevator.  “How about I pay you with kisses from your favorite niece?” you asked as you pressed a kiss to your daughters head “once she wakes up that is”  “That is perfect payment!  She looks even bigger than when i last saw her” he mentioned gazing at her as you all headed out of the elevator.  

“Morgan has been asking all week when you were arriving, I think there is a tea party scheduled for this afternoon”   

“Well, that works for me, I’m honestly surprised she’s still sleeping.  What time is the briefing?” you asked as you headed into the apartment followed by Kevin, carrying your bags, and Tony.   

“About 10 minutess, I can push it back if you need to settle in but I thought you might want to rip the band aid off, so to speak” he smirked.   “No, Kevin will be here with her, I can freshen up quick and be on our way” you smiled as you settled your daughter in the crib Tony had waiting for you.  “GIve me 5 minutes, and I’ll be ready” you headed into the bathroom to wash up quickly.  

Chatting with Tony on the way to the conference room felt like you had never left, you loved working with him and missed seeing him on a daily basis, but you had actually grown much closer to him since you had moved away.   You took a deep breath before entering the room and looked around to all the Avengers eagerly awaiting Tony’s arrival and the start of the meeting.  

“Ok, we can start, Special Agent Y/L/N, will be running the show” Tony announced as he made his way to the head of the table.  You smiled looking around the room, your eyes landing on his before you walked in and got to work.  Clearing your throat you began handing out the briefing you created “this is my surveillance notes for Mr. Dick Roman over the last 4 years, he has various aliases depending on what country he is in, but no matter where he is, he leaves a mess in his path when he leaves”  

“Hold up, you are not coming in here and talking about so whack job, being all Ms Business without even a proper hello”  You chuckled “I’m sorry Wilson, I wanted to get through the briefing so that we can properly form a plan before getting into personal greetings, but if you need a hug Sammy, I am more than willing to oblige” you stated as you walked towards him.  

“Damn right I do” Sam responded while pulling you into a bone crushing hug “and it’s Special Agent now, huh?  Running up the ranks in DC, I see” he winked at you as he placed a kiss on your forehead.  “What can I say?  I guess they like me” you shrugged as you stepped back.  

“And who wouldn’t” Steve quipped as he pulled you into a hug “we all miss you” he whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek.  “Thanks Steve” you turned toward Bucky who was awkwardly standing behind you.  

“Got a hug for me, doll?” he asked almost as if he was afraid of you.  “Of course, Bucky” you hugged him and as soon as he touched you, all the months of incredible memories between the two of your flashed in your mind as if they were just yesterday.  

You took a deep breath before releasing him “you look good, Buck, I like the short hair” you smiled before being pulled into a triple hug with Wanda and Nat. Laughing immediately when they started tickling you.   “Ok, please stop” you squeal.  “And this is why I was wanting to get through the documents first” you shook your head and got back to work.  

It was only about an hour later when you all decided to break for lunch and head to the common area.  You heard crying as soon as the elevator doors opened and knew the inevitable had happened.  Rushing into the room you find Kevin trying to rock Joy in his arms, trying to calm her down.   Reaching over you rubbed her back, when she looked up and whimpered “mama!’  

“I’m sorry, she woke up a few minutes ago and was a bit disoriented, we tried reading a book and singing but she wasn’t having any of it” Kevin told you with a sympathetic smile.  “It’s ok, I figured the new space might be a bit confusing.  You’re ok, right, Joy?” you asked as she climbed in your lap and wrapped her arms around your neck.  Mumbling something in your neck you couldn’t understand, but you heard her sniffles and the attempt to regulate her breathing.  

“It’s ok, mama’s here now” you hummed in her hair as you rubbed her back.  Looking up you came across a variety of faces, some confused, some shocked and some in awe of the sweet moment.   “Sweetie, do you want to meet mommy’s friends?” you ask hoping the change in subject will help calm her down. She huffed a no in your neck and tightened her grip.   

“Oh, but uncle Tony is here and he said that Morgan wants to have a tea party, but you can’t do that clinging to my neck” you told her softly.  She pulled away to look at you “unca-to-ee an mogan uh heew” you hummed confirmation before she slowly turned around to the room full of people watching your interaction. She gasped when she saw Tony “unca-to-ee! An Nat!” she shouted before climbing down and running to her two favorite Avengers.  

“Thank you Kevin. You can enjoy the rest of your day in the city, I got it from here”  you patted his leg and rose from the couch to follow Joy over to the group.  “You’re sure? I don’t mind sticking around” he responded only for you to quirk an eyebrow at him “of course you’re sure, I’m out, call me if you need me” he responded shaking his head at the fact that he questioned you.  

“So, everyone, this is Joy, Joy sweetie, these are mommy’s friends” you told her “can you say hi?”  “Hi fwens” she shouted as she waved at everyone.  “I hungee, can i hav a nack?” she asked as she looked up at Nat.  “Of course you can!  Let’s see what we can find” she told her before sweeping her up in her arms and heading to the kitchen, Wanda and Tony following behind.  Bucky, Sam and Steven were still in a bit of shock.  

“You have a daughter” Steve stated  “She’s adorable, Y/N, she looks just like you” Sam told you with a wink before heading to the kitchen.  “Thanks, she is a handful, but completely worth it” you responded with a soft smile.  

“How old is she?” Bucky asks, almost frightened of the answer.  “She just turned two last month” you smile remembering the fun little party you threw for her.  “So she’s not…” he started to say but trailed off, with a look that you didn’t recognize, not sure if it was relief or disappointment.  

“No, Bucky, she isn’t yours, I would have told you if that was a possibility” you respond softly.  “Sure” he states before looking at his feet.  “Yes, if i was pregnant with your child, I would have told you” you were defensive now, that he would think otherwise.  “I can’t do this right now, I thought we could work together and be civil but I guess I was wrong” you state as you head towards the kitchen hearing him mumble something under his breath you stop in your tracks.  Turning toward him you walk over slowly, as if you were afraid to spook an animal ‘what did you say?  I couldn’t hear you”  He took a deep breath before looking at you “I said go, that’s what you’re good at” And just like that you were transported back to the day when everything in your relationship crashed 

“Doll, we need to talk?” he stated as he sat down next to you on the couch.  “Okay, what’s going on Bucky?”  “I really care about you Y/N, but I don’t think this is working, I think it’s best if we go back to being just friends” he tells you, barely looking you in the eye.  “Oh…. and why the change?  I thought things were good” you respond trying to keep yourself from crying .  “Nothing changed, it’s just not working” he responds again remaining vague and just expecting you to agree.  

“Is there someone else?” you whisper knowing that something had to have prompted him to dump you after dating for the last 6 months, the best 6 months of your life, but apparently not his.  “No, there’s no one else, I wouldn’t do that to you” he tells you reaching for your hand to comfort you but you pull away.  

“Come on Bucky, we’ve been friends for years, I’ve seen the women you’ve been with, I’m not stupid” you spat at him, knowing there was always a prettier woman on his arm the moment he got bored with what you used to refer to as his flavor of the month.  “There is no one else, Y/N, I promise you” he’s nearly pleading with  you to believe him.   You shake your head as you stand up, the tears rolling down your cheeks now, but you don’t care.  

“That’s actually worse, you’d rather be alone than with me” you chuckle humorlessly as you head toward the elevator, you had to get out of here before breaking down completely.  “Don’t touch me!” you screech as he lays his hand on your shoulder.  

“Doll, I’m sorry, but I still want to be friends, we’ve been friends for years, I still care about you”  he tries to console you but at this point you feel so rejected that you want nothing but to get away from him.  

“I don’t care what you want, you certainly don’t care about me” you yell just as Sam, Steve and Nat come in to see what the yelling is about.  “What’s going on?” Steven asked, looking concerned.  

"Nothing important, just your friend getting rid of his latest fling" you bitterly spit out as you glare at Bucky. "Have a nice life Barnes" then you are stepping into the elevator just as Natasha comes in before the doors close.  You start sobbing and she pulls you into a hug.

"What the hell man?" Sam asks as Bucky drops his head and leaves the room.

"You are the one that ended us, don't make me be the bad guy for taking a job out of town to try and get over you" you tell him barely above a whisper.  Bucky looks at you with regret "I messed up, but I find out from Nat that you aren't even in the state any more. I didn't get a chance to fix things, to fix us" he tells you reaching out for you.  

You just shake your head "Fix us? When were you planning on doing that?  Between which supermodel did you even remember my name?" you spat as his eyes widened.  "Not even a week after you were done with me did I have to see you with another one of your flings, so don’t stand there and pretend like you wanted to fix anything.  You got bored, like you always do, and you tossed me aside.”  

“That’s what you think?  I got bored and moved on?” he questioned looking hurt.  “What else am I supposed to think, Bucky?  You gave me no explanation, nothing.  You were just done with me.  So, yes, I took a job at the SHIELD office in DC so that i didn’t have to watch the man I loved parade around all the beautiful women who were just waiting in line for their turn” you tell him as you think back on making the decision to leave all of your friends and colleagues in NY.  

“Loved? As in past tense?”  he questioned.  

“Yes, honestly Bucky, we knew each other for so long that when we started dating, I thought you were it for me.  You knew all my baggage and dirty secrets and you still wanted to be with me, that had to mean something, right?  But it wasn’t meant to be”  you whisper and feel the tears pricking the back of your eyes.  

“We still could, we could start over, I owe you an explanation, but it’s not too late” he tells you, pleading for you to give him a second chance.  

To say you were shocked by his statement would be an understatement, you hadn’t spoken in 4 years and now he wants a second chance but before you can respond, Joy comes running back in the room. “Mama, com on, is yunch time!” she says as she grabs your hand and pulls you toward the kitchen.  

Lunch was more relaxing than you expected, especially after the short conversation you had with Bucky.  This isn’t what you expected today, not that you really knew what to expect but him asking for a second chance after all this time, really surprised you.  By the time lunch was over, Joy had more energy than normal, she was quickly acclimating to her new surroundings and loving all the extra attention.  

Walking over to Bucky after cleaning up your plate “Look, we should talk, but this mission takes priority.  When Roman is under lock and key, you and I can sit down and try to restore our friendship, but until then, we need to remain professional and leave our personal lives out of this.”  Bucky only nodded in return as he watched you pick up your daughter and head out of the room.  

PART 2

#marvel au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #spn au #marvel fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural au #steve rogers #avengers au #tony stark #natsha romanoff #sam wilson #dick roman #wanda maximoff