#Anyway. I wish the state of the world was generally more Okay right now. Even like a little bit.

[solearobservatory]

this is still about shakedown btw 🫶

writing g✨️y p✨️rn is such a good coping mechanism for every problem i have. why didnt i get perscribed this in hopsital ? Hmm?? Instead i got? antidepressivos 🙄 like....No cock and balls at all....not even A ball...Uma bola

[tiresomeimagination]

The Demons in the Details (707 x Reader)

Word Count: 1.2k

Author's note: This is an entry for @mysticmessengerenglish's fanfic contest. The theme was weddings and I had an idea to try playing with. Hope you enjoy! ^^

You paused in your inspection of the current venue and glanced back over at Saeyoung to gauge his reaction. He looked deep in thought as he scanned the building. You wished you could hear his thoughts… He looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

~~~~~

Wedding preparations are always tiring. They become even more so when expectations or standards are a bit too particular. Saeyoung was by no means a very picky person. In fact, you often had to nag him about keeping his preferences quiet for the sake of others. So it was a bit out of the ordinary to find that Saeyoung was so critical of every venue you visited. There was always something. It was too public of a spot, it was too closed off, it didn’t have enough exits, and the list went on. Nothing was quite right. You got the feeling that if it were solely up to him, he would just have the whole thing in his bunker.

His mind was racing with every possible worst-case scenario. He had to. After all, he had finally gotten everything he ever wanted. He was reunited with his brother. He had found a new family in the RFA members. He had even found the love of his life. He had…everything to lose. With his father and the agency still out there looking for him, he had far too many enemies to take any chances.

Finally, Saeyoung seemed to reach a decision. “Hm…yeah…this place is nice and all, but I just don’t think it’s us, y’know? I mean… we can definitely do better,” he said with a slight chuckle, attempting to keep his voice light and casual.

You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh. “This is the fifth place we’ve seen today. We’re kind of running out of options…” You tried to point out as gently as possible.

Saeyoung let out a small sigh of his own as he ran a hand anxiously through his hair. “You’re right, you’re right. How about we just…sleep on it for now? I have some more research to do anyway.”

You knew this ‘research’ probably involved running background checks on all the venue’s staff that would even breathe in the general vicinity of the event.

“...Okay. Yeah… It’s getting late anyway. We might as well go back,” you relented. You wanted to try your best to be accommodating. You knew that he had to do whatever he could do to feel safe.

Spirits were low as the two of you returned to the bunker. There was a certain unspoken tension that neither you nor Saeyoung wished to address. You both made light small talk about the day as you had dinner with him and Saeran as usual, but you could tell Saeyoung was still worried. As much as you wanted to try and talk through things, you didn’t want to push him before he was ready…. And so, even as you retired to the guest room for bed, the topic was avoided entirely for the night.

You awoke a few hours later. After a quick glance at your phone to confirm that it was indeed the middle of the night, you decided to get up and check in on Saeyoung. Experience told you that there was a good chance he got caught up in something and would need to be talked into actually going to bed. However, rather than a chance for playful teasing between you two, what you found when you peeked in was much more concerning.

Saeyoung sat on the edge of his bed, hunched forward with his head in his hands. Without thinking, you entered and quickly crossed the room towards him. 

The sound of your footsteps jolted him out of whatever state he had been in and his head whipped up to lock eyes with you. “…Y/N…?” He asked quietly as if your presence had surprised him.

“Saeyoung! What’s wrong?? Did something happen?” You asked worriedly as you came to a stop by his side.

He took a moment to register your words, still lost in his thoughts. “...Um…yeah…I-I mean no.” He stammered out, pausing to rub tiredly at his face and try to recollect his jumbled thoughts. “Everything’s fine. I just…had a weird dream, hah…” He breathed out quietly.

You frowned deeply and sat down beside him, placing a light touch on his arm. “Do you want to talk about it…?” You asked softly.

He didn’t answer, so you continued. “Whatever it is…you can talk to me. We promised to handle things together, remember? You don’t have to talk about it right now, but I can tell you’ve been worried about something and it’s more than just whether we get married someplace with or without windows, so-”

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Saeyoung suddenly interrupted your ramble. 

“...What…?” You replied, caught off guard by his words.

Saeyoung took a deep breath in and let it out before he looked over at you. “Things aren’t going to be easy, you know. Living with me…won’t be easy.” He paused, glancing down at the engagement ring you wore on your hand. A sign of your connection to one another.

“...What? What are you talking about?”

He sighed again and gently took your hand in his. “I still have a lot of enemies. You could get caught in the crossfire of any one of them.”

“Saeyoung…”

“Every time I close my eyes… I see everything that could go wrong. And every time I open them again I think about how I’m not ready. If I fail to account for even one possible threat, you could get hurt…or worse…"

"Saeyoung." You called out a little louder, hoping to get his attention off of his spiraling anxious thoughts and back onto you. When he looked back up at you, you continued. "You don't have to bear everything alone anymore. Everyone in RFA has your back. Saeran and I too. We're all in this together. And if dealing with Mint Eye has taught us anything…it's that we're stronger together." You said with a soft smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

You brought your other hand up to gently touch his shoulder. "And to answer your question…yes. This is what I want. You are what I want, and nothing will change that."

The both of you were moments away from tears. Saeyoung quickly pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face into your shoulder and sniffling softly.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He murmured, his voice muffled by your shirt. 

The second half went unspoken but you could hear it loud and clear. He was afraid of losing you. No amount of mere words could quell those fears entirely. They lived so deeply in his heart and you couldn’t chase them all out no matter how much you wanted to. All you could do was try to support him.

You let out a sigh as you hugged him back and let your own tears fall as well. "I love you too.”

Your happily ever after wouldn't be as easy as the fairy tales made them out to be…but you two would be okay so long as you stood together. You weren’t about to let go, and by the looks of his grip right now, neither was he.

[tabletofruination]

Ohhh, wonderful! It looks like I've got this thing working, finally.

I did tell you that reading up would prove helpful...

Yeah, I probably could've done that. But, well, here we are, partner! I'll go first on the introductions!

You guys can call me Juliana--or Juli, for short! I've been a student at Naranja Academy for a year and a half now--and it turns out you can do a lot in that time! I wound up accomplishing a lot! Champion, beater of Team Star, a-and other stuff... Though you'll find I'm waaay more interested in learning about history, nowadays. I think I've got all of Naranja's library read by now...alright, your turn, partner!

Really? Must I? ...I suppose I've little choice. My name is of no importance, but you may call me 'Green' if you wish to designate a name for me. As Miss Juliana has stated, I am something of a partner to her research into the legends of Paldea. It is a pleasure, I suppose.

We'll be talking a lot about our findings and hopefully posting a lot about what we can find--we're especially interested in finding out more about the Treasures of Ruin in this region, and finding out more about their history! But we're also down to battle! So feel free to talk to us!

HELLO welcome to another ~bad sable decision~, this time presenting: an AU Juliana who has been living rent free in my head for months! Time to pay-up and become an actual blog girliepop.

Anyway. As for how this Juliana is AU? It's very simple: girlie here got fused with Wo-Chien after shit went VERY decidedly awry during The Way Home. I'm going to hopefully reveal the details very slowly, but this Juliana is actually a little more villainous in nature, though in a very innocent sort of way. She's already freed Wo-Chien and I'm sure you can all figure out what's going to be the gimmick of this blog a bit. :3c

Some ground rules!

Juliana is a minor. If I see even a singular anon getting weird I will utilize the block button liberally, so don't be weird.

Juliana's circumstances are...I'll be honest, they're a fair amount darker because she did technically fail to stop the Paradise Protection Protocol herself and basically told her world's version of Nemona/Arven/Penny to run for their lives. And it haunts her. Oh does it haunt her. But while she technically lost, Wo-Chien basically won the rest of the fight and got Juliana out, though nobody is really aware of the whole. Fusion situation. As a result, some things have changed--particularly the Teal Mask, it plays out VERY differently here, and Juliana received no invitation to go to Blueberry as a result. And yes, she's basically kind of a villain now. :3c

Any description of the fusion and stuff will be kept minimal but uh. Just a general warning for body horror if you do decide to ask. Please do not fuck around and find out without proper prep. 🙏

More details of her canon circumstances will come out in time as she answers asks, and I ask simply for no godmodding! I may let some details slip OOC early but don't bring them up until I feel the time is right please!

Let me know if you're not okay with Juliana or Green interacting! Green is going to be keeping up a facade as a Totally Normal Human, but I imagine it's not going to take rocket science to figure out what Green is hiding. But I am treating canon like silly putty here, and Green will interact with people of their own accord. If you're not cool with that, let me know. Or if you want Green and not Juliana, or neither, just let me know!

Yes there are two Koraidon on the trainer card. Juliana does not fight with either of them despite Bitey basically being that one meme with the cat on the stairs going "FATHER I CRAVE VIOLENCE". And Buddy is basically still scared shitless of battle! So she basically only fights with three of her Pokemon, but she is pretty strong despite the handicap.

Juliana herself can tap into Wo-Chien's moveset. She absolutely HATES doing so, though. She pretty much only ever uses Protect in a panic, usually, but uh. I figured I'd bring that up in case anyone asked!

Pelipper Mail/Malice on, as is Musharna Mail/Malice! Please just fuck the girliepop up.

I. May also do some regular RP on here? I do not know how tumblr RP works but I have brainworms and want to RP the girl. If anyone wants to RP I guess hmu???

idk what else to put here. i'll think as i go??? but yes. this'll mostly be juliana's daily life stuff and expedition logging to try and find more stakes and more research!

[lythea-creation]

Brighten My World - Tasneem x fem reader (Chapter 8)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

warnings: angst, mentions of eating disorder

word count: 906

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

She did not talk to me for the rest of the school day. Only sent me an apologetic look when I initiated a conversation. But she also did not resist when I got into the car with her to accompany her home.

She did pull her hand away when I touched it though.

I did not know what to do. Her words were still buzzing in my mind, burning their way through my whole body.

I was pretty sure that she had not meant any of it. That she had just tried to hurt me to make me leave her. Yet she had been successful. It did hurt, still was.

I only dared to raise my voice again when we had arrived inside her room.

“Tasneem … can we talk? Please”, I requested.

She shook her head, pacing around her room to avoid me as much as possible.

I was torn between respecting her wish and forcing her to talk to me anyway. What was the right answer?

“Okay”, I whispered and sat down next to her bed, hugging my knees.

It felt like I was invading her space. But I could not get myself to leave if she did not ask me to.

I could not help but wonder if she had meant her words to some extend. After all I had kinda forced myself into her life the day I had confronted her with her eating disorder. Had I overstepped the line back then? Maybe I had only wanted to believe that I was good for her. Considering that she was barely hanging out with her friends anymore I might as well be a bad influence.

What was I even doing?

I had to go. My own emotions were overwhelming me more by the second. One wrong step and I would break down as well. I could not support Tasneem like that.

But my body just did not move.

So instead of running away, I hid my face on my knees.

My tears were silent. You had to learn that skill when your mom was talking you down for getting emotional.

Luckily Tasneem was too busy with her own turmoil to notice my state.

After a while her pacing stopped, filling the room with silence.

“I want to binge so badly right now”, Tasneem confessed, making me lift my head to look at her.

“I'm sorry”, she uttered, her voice beginning to crack. “I know I hurt you. I … I didn't mean to. Well I did, but not really. I … ugh! I'm just a total mess.”

She winced when she spotted my tears.

I did not know what to say. She was right. How was I supposed to react?

Tasneem took that question from me by continuing: “I hate myself. I … You shouldn't have to put up with me. It feels like I'm just using you.”

“Why do you love me?”, I wondered.

She was taken off guard by my question.

“Sorry, I … I shouldn't have asked you in such a situation. You're way too upset to think about it right now”, I retreated quickly, fearing her answer or rather the lack of it.

“Of course I love how kind and considerate you are, although I just talked that down. I … I love how you're always there for me, how you manage to make me smile even on the bad days. I love that you're making me a better person in a way that I don't lose myself still. But that's all way too general”, she stated.

Her pacing had stopped as she was standing in front of me, still some distance between us though.

“I love how you always manage to trip over our carpet despite being here basically all the time. I love how you are walking around while brushing your teeth. And how you just start singing without even noticing. Honestly it's insane that some of your quirks make me smile instead of annoyed”, she confessed.

Now I could not decide between feeling upset and overjoyed. Great …

“I love you, too, Tasneem”, I assured her. “And I want you to be able to come to me anytime, but you have to talk to your therapist about all of this. Please.”

“I will”, she promised. “I don't want my life to go back to the way it was before. Before you were in it.”

“Me neither”, I agreed.

As soon as I attempted to get up she was holding her hands out to me. A peace offering.

I let her pull me up and onto the bed with her. She was not restless anymore, but back to holding me in her arms.

“Do you remember when you realized that I wasn't alright either? That I was just great at masking it?”, I wondered.

“Yeah, of course”, she claimed.

“You make my world brighter as well. This relationship isn't a one-way street. You've helped me so much to deal with Layan's death. Without you I would have drowned in my sorrow. Please, don't ever forget that”, I remarked.

Despite such dark moments between us thanks to all our old and more recent wounds, that was simply a fact. We were simply better together. And I was hoping as much as I could that it would stay that way even in the distant future.

The End

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

It's kinda ironic to finish this story after eight chapters. After all it wasn't even meant to become a series. It was a Oneshot I just couldn't let go. Now I do have to let go. I hope you all loved this story just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Tag List: @sunwoniie

[protector-utahime-miku]

// continuation of the last in character post

TW: KIND OF IMPLIED SA, SELF HARM, SELF HATRED, AND uh generally rui is just not okay at all

[plain text: trigger warning: kind of implied sexual assault, self harm, self hatred, and uh generally rui is just not okay at all. end plain text]

H- Hey, Rui?! What happened?! Y- You look so... exhausted...!!!

...

Rui turned away. He couldn't face Mizuki right now. He was an absolute mess.

Soulless eyes, the playful shine that was once so prominent now gone without a trace.

Dark eye bags, from nights he couldn't sleep due to nightmares.

Tear stains, tracking down his cheeks.

Messy hair, pulled at not just by himself, but also them, pulling on it, forcing him to look up.

Fresh scars littering his arms, the most recent of which being made less than an hour ago.

Sobs racked his body once more as he wished, wished for the world to just put an end to his misery, wrapping his arms around himself in pure self-loathing. He couldn't even attempt to hide his utter despair.

H- Huh?! Oh, no no no... Hello? C- Can you hear me, Rui?! It's just me, Mizuki...!!

Please... j- jus' leave me alone...

No way I'm doing that when you're in this state!!!

Why did Mizuki care? Can't she see? Rui's a mess, broken beyond repair. He'll never be able to recover. By this point, he's far too mentally fragile to even get close to recovery.

Y... You don' deserve t' be st- stuck with me... 'm jus' b- burdenin' you with m' problems...

You're hurting, badly! It'd be more of a burden on me if I left with the knowledge that I just left you on your own like this...

B- But... I deserve to be treated l- like that, anyway... 'm not even g- good enough for any of you, 'n' I n- never will be...! 'm jus' weak!

Rui turned to Mizuki, raising his voice in desperation. The sudden change of volume caught Mizuki off guard, leading them to flinch slightly...

...!!

O- Oh, oh no... M- Mizuki, I didn't mean to yell... 'm sorry...

... It's oka–

N- No, t's not...! 'm so sorry, Mizuki...!

Hey, hey! I promise you, I was just a little surprised, that's all!!

...

He didn't know what to say, or what to do. He was so... lost, in that moment. He just sat there, weeping.

Rui... H- Hey, can I hug you...? U- Uh, well- probably not, actually- sorry about tha–

She was interrupted by arms wrapping around them.

Mi... zu... ki...

[lordystrange]

I’m 6 days late to replying because I was busy but the post you reblogged right before you answered my ask is the racism I’m talking about. How many times do we, as Palestinians, have to tell you that you cannot support us and be a Zionist? Zionism has taken away our homes, our land, our rights, our freedom, our ability to live. Our decades of suffering aren’t enough for you to denounce Zionism because you are racist. We know what Zionism has done better than anyone. I don’t care what it might mean to some people in their minds. All of it has oppressed and colonized us. The holocaust was horrible, but that doesn’t make it okay to displace for over 75 years and harm us instead. If we weren’t Arab you would listen and understand. Idc if you like Noah Schnapp famous people mean nothing to me, but Zionism is why there’s a genocide right now and decades of oppression before that. Our genocide and pain isn’t bad enough to you because we’re not considered white.

Thank you for the ask. I have tried to explain the following many times in the past and sometimes people see what I mean and sometimes they don't. I can try and be as thorough as possible, but that's really all I can do. The rest is up to you.

Firstly, I'd like to say that yes, I support the jewish people's right (and all people's right) to live in a safe land, but no, I don't support murdering or harming anyone in anyway for that to happen. Does that make me a zionist? I honestly have no clue.

Why don't I have a clue? Well, that's because I don't really know what zionism means to people. I have read about it a lot since last fall, but it's not taught in schools here, and even if it was, it would most likely be from the white and western pov.

From what I've gathered, the core idea of zionism is the idea of jews having a safe land for them to live in. An understandable wish, since they have throughout the history been very oppressed. Now, what seems to cause the most issues here are the many different types of zionism, or rather the lack of acknowledging that. I hate when people say that they either support or don't support zionism without specifying which type. There are very radical types, in which people believe they have a right to destroy Palestine and Palestinians, and there are a lot less radical types, in which people believe that Israel doesn't even need to be a jewish state for it to be safe for jews. And some more or less radical types in between.

It would be a lot easier if zionism simply meant one thing and everybody could agree on it, right? Sure it would be. But who gets to decide? Not me for sure, which is why I can't do it.

It would be very reasonable that the Palestinians suffering from the horrific acts done in the name of zionism get to decide. White/western nations in general should pay attention to the world around them more and we have a lot to learn about the racism we practice. But this brings us to Noah. Because no matter what we, or you, or anyone decides about zionism now, it doesn't change him having a completely different idea of it back then.

His crime was not knowing better. Should people have called him out for that? Yes, absolutely. Should they have taught him to know better? Yes, but instead they chose to make learning process harder for him by destroying his life. "But he supports killing Palestinian babies, he deserves to have his life destroyed-" No. He doesn't support that. I'm very sorry for anyone who's been so screwed over in life so badly that they would choose to believe such horrific claims, but no.

Idk if you're familiar with Haraway's (1988) God Trick, but basically all people perceive the world from where they stand, and no one can see everything from nowhere. There is no universal objectivity. I will always perceive the world from a northern european standpoint. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't listen to you.

White/western people should absolutely learn to see and hear and acknowledge Palestinians (and other non-white/western people) better. But it's not the same as learning math. I can practice math in my everyday life. I can't practice being treated in a racist manner. So it will take me a lifetime of making mistakes and letting people educate me and I still won't master it perfectly. But I can try.

Fortunately for me, I've had some Palestinians discuss about these topics with me. And I know Noah has those people and conversations too. I do feel horrible about the genocide everyday and I keep internally screaming to the United Nations to do something. But I hopefully won't ever have to experience genocide and I hope people are decent enough to not wish such thing to happen just to make me see how they feel. The goal is to make human rights happen for all of us equally, not to take those rights away from all of us equally.

I really hope this clarified things for you. And if I'm wrong, I'm sorry.

And for the anons who after this accuse me of being a radical zionist and a raging antisemitist: Hi! You really prove my point about the God Trick and having different interpretations.

[officialralsei]

…that does make sense! It reminds me of shaping something out of the Grand Fountain. I’m more used to spellcasting mechanics, but harnessing intent like this is something I’m not too unfamiliar with! I’ll give it a try now.

…

…GOOD. I HEARD THE SOUND OF ITS SUMMONING. NOW, FOCUS YOUR MAGICAL INTENT. AND LET IT POOL WITHIN THE ORIGIN OF THE ATTACK. WHEN YOU CAN HOLD THE ENERGY NO LONGER. ALLOW IT TO COALESCE INTO A SINGLE BEAM. 

THINK OF IT LIKE DRAWING A BOW TO ANCHOR. AND RELEASING IT IN ONE MOTION. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO HOLD THE ENERGY WITHIN PLACE. OR IT MAY RELEASE ITSELF OF ITS OWN ACCORD. IN A MUCH LESS… CONSTRUCTIVE. MANNER.

TRY IT NOW.

…

Hmm. Um, I’ll try that again. It fizzled out…

IT IS ALL RIGHT IF YOU CANNOT DO IT YET. IT IS A VERY DIFFERENT KIND OF MAGIC. FROM WHAT YOU ARE LIKELY USED TO. TAKE YOUR TIME TO BECOME COMFORTABLE. WITH SIMPLY SUMMONING THE ATTACK. IT WILL NOT CONSUME YOUR MAGIC. UNTIL IT FIRES SUCCESSFULLY.

…SPEAKING OF WHICH. I WANTED TO ASK YOU ABOUT ‘TENSION POINTS.’ THE “PLAYERS” TOLD ME OF HOW THEY ENABLE YOUR SPELLCASTING. BUT WHAT THEY SAID ABOUT THE GENERATION OF ‘TENSION POINTS.’ AND YOUR USAGE OF THE ‘PACIFY’ SPELL IN PARTICULAR. WAS… CONCERNING. 

…IS THERE… ARE YOU… ARE YOU OKAY, RALSEI?

Oh, I’m fine! I don’t use that spell as often as they implied I do, anyway. Usually I sleep pretty well! It’s only every once in a while that I end up using it.

BUT THE FACT THAT YOU ARE ABLE. TO CAST IT AT ALL, EVEN OUTSIDE OF BATTLE… TO BE IN SUCH A STATE OF HEIGHTENED STRESS. THAT ITS EFFECTS ARE COMPARABLE TO BEING GRAZED BY A BULLET… THAT IS QUITE WORRISOME.

Oh? Is it?

…

…YES. ALL THE MORE SO FOR YOUR HAVING TO ASK THAT. 

…BUT THEN AGAIN. I SUPPOSE YOU WOULD NOT HAVE HAD ANY METRIC. BY WHICH TO HAVE KNOWN THAT, WOULD YOU…? I CAN ONLY ASSUME THAT YOUR CREATOR DID NOT IMPART UPON YOU. MUCH KNOWLEDGE OF MENTAL HEALTH. 

…

BUT THAT IS NEITHER HERE NOR THERE. I… I DO NOT KNOW HOW I MAY HELP YOU. BUT IF YOU FEEL THAT YOU WOULD LIKE TO TALK ABOUT IT…

It’s fine. Spellcasters are meant to build up stress a little more easily than other classes, haha. It really isn’t that unusual to have a full TP bar after dealing with those above us, I think! Especially if they’re, um, being demanding.

YES, CERTAINLY, BUT…

…

…IS IT BECAUSE OF ME? I… I UNDERSTAND IF IT IS. I WILL NOT BE MAD, I JUST… WISH TO KNOW WHAT IT IS THAT IS CAUSING YOU DISTRESS. SO THAT I MAY FIX IT. 

It’s not your problem to worry about. Capische?

…Umm, but since you are worried… I don’t have quite as much TP lately as I used to. These days, um, it doesn’t build up as fast as it used to, either. So you don’t have to be concerned, okay? I really am doing fine.

…I UNDERSTAND. I APOLOGIZE FOR PRESSING YOU. I AM JUST… REMINDED OF MY SON. HE ALWAYS REFUSED TO ADMIT WHEN HE WAS STRUGGLING. EVEN WHEN THE EVIDENCE WAS DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME. 

I DO NOT KNOW WHETHER HE WAS TOO PROUD TO ASK FOR HELP. OR SIMPLY DID NOT THINK I COULD HELP. BUT… IT WAS DIFFICULT TO WATCH. IF THERE IS ANYTHING AT ALL I CAN DO…

…BUT AS I SAID. I WILL NOT PRESS YOU FURTHER. I AM JUST GLAD THAT YOU ARE DOING BETTER THAN BEFORE. I… I HOPE THE TREND CONTINUES.

Thanks!

…Darn, that one didn’t work either. Umm… I guess this is more difficult than I thought, haha!

TRIAL AND ERROR. FAILURES PROVIDE MEANINGFUL DATA FOR NEXT TIME. JUST DO NOT FORCE IT IF IT IS NOT WORKING. YOU WILL ONLY HURT YOURSELF THAT WAY.

I think I almost got it! Just a little longer. Like you said, I'm learning a lot from trial and error! Your lessons always teach me a lot of new things, haha.

THAT IS WONDERFUL TO HEAR.

…

I, TOO, HAVE LEARNED FROM OUR LESSONS. THINGS THAT I DID NOT EXPECT. CONCERNING THE WAY YOUR WORLD FUNCTIONS. AND BY EXTENSION, THE CONNECTION BETWEEN OUR OWN WORLDS. AND THAT OF THE “PLAYERS.” 

…THEY WERE CERTAINLY QUICK TO MAKE REFERENCE. TO OUR CONVERSATION DURING YOUR PIANO LESSON.

Haha. Like I said last time… it's very, very interesting, isn't it?

YES… IT IS A NEW UNKNOWN VARIABLE. A RARITY IN THIS EXISTENCE OF MINE, THOUGH AS OF LATE. THERE HAS BEEN MORE TO STUDY. THAN EVER.

…

I AM CERTAIN WE WILL LEARN MORE. OF THE PURPOSE OF THIS PHENOMENON–

I did it! I did it! Did you hear that? It was so loud!!

EXCELLENT, RALSEI. VERY GOOD. THE SOUND IS UNMISTAKABLE. 

DID YOU, AH… HIT YOUR MARK?

Umm…! I meant to fire it off into the emptiness beyond the cliffs, but, umm… it hit the ground. Haha. Umm… it's kind of a big crater…!

THAT IS TO BE EXPECTED. THE BEAMS LOOSE A LARGE AMOUNT OF ENERGY. WITHIN A VERY CONCENTRATED AREA. 

ARE YOU ALL RIGHT…?

I'm okay! Um, the ground shook a bit, but I'm not hurt at all! And I'm just on the cliffs, so it's okay if I mess up the terrain here a little bit, I think! Umm… I think a crater of this size would have been bad if I had done it in Castle Town, haha. Maybe I won't practice these in the training grounds until I have better control…

A PRUDENT CHOICE. 

TO BE CERTAIN THAT YOU UNDERSTAND. HOW TO CONTROL THE CONSEQUENCES OF AN ACTION. BEFORE PROCEEDING WITH THAT ACTION. IS THE RESPONSIBILITY OF ANY WHO WIELD SUCH POWER.

I'm not sure I do understand how to control the consequences yet, haha. Certainly not as much as you think I do. Still… that's why I have these lessons with you, isn't it? To figure out what sort of control could be possible for me.

And, you know… maybe you could keep consequences in mind a bit more during our time together, too. Just a thought.

…

…DULY NOTED.

[grison-in-space]

In general, understanding radical feminism for what it is and why it appeals to many people requires an understanding that the greatest strength of radical feminism as a tool for understanding misogyny and sexism is also its greatest faultline.

See, radical feminism is a second wave position in feminist thought and development. It is a reaction to what we sometimes call first wave feminism, which was so focused on specific legal freedoms that we usually refer to the activists who focused on it as suffragists or suffragettes: that is, first wave feminists were thinking about explicit laws that said "women cannot do this thing, and if they try, the law of the state and of other powerful institutions will forcibly evict them." Women of that era were very focused on explicit and obvious barriers to full participation in public and civil life, because there were a lot of them: you could not vote, you could not access education, you could not be trained in certain crucial professions, you could not earn your own pay even if you decided you wanted to.

The second wave of feminism, then, is what happened when the daughters of this first wave--and their opponents--looked around and said to themselves: hold on, the explicit barriers are gone. The laws that treat us as a different and lesser class of people are gone. Why doesn't it feel like I have full access to freedoms that I see the men around me enjoying? What are the unspoken laws that keep us here?

And so these activists began to try to dig into the implicit beliefs and cultural structures that served to trap women asking designated paths, even if they did wish to do other things. Why is it that woman are pressured not to go into certain high prestige fields, even if in theory no one is stopping them? How do our ideas and attitudes about sex and gender create assumptions and patterns and constrictions that leave us trapped even when the explicit chains have been removed?

And so these activists focused on the implicit ideas that create behavioral outcomes. They looked inward to interrogate both their own beliefs and the beliefs of other people around them. They discovered many things that were real and illuminated barriers that people hadn't thought of, especially around sexual violence and rape and trauma and harassment. In particular, these activists became known for exercises like consciousness-raising, in which everyday people were encouraged to sit down and consider the ways in which their own unspoken, implicit beliefs contributed to general societal problems of sexism and misogyny.

Introspection can be so intoxicating, though, because it allows us to place ourselves at the center of the social problems that we see around us. We are all naturally a little self centered, after all. When your work is so directly tied to digging up implications and resonances from unspoken beliefs, you start getting really into drawing lines of connection from your own point of interest to other related marginalizations--and for this generation of thinkers, often people who only experienced one major marginalization got the center of attention. Compounding this is the reality that it is easier to see the impacts of marginalization when they apply directly to you, and things that apply to you seem more important.

So some of this generation of thinkers thought to themselves, hang on. Hang on. Misogyny has its fingers in so many pies that we don't see, and I can see misogyny echoing through so many other marginalizations too--homophobia especially but also racism and ableism and classism. These echoes must be because there is one central oppression that underlies all the others, and while theoretically you could have a society with no class distinctions and no race distinctions, just biologically you always have sex and gender distinctions, right? So: perhaps misogyny is the original sin of culture, the well from which all the rest of it springs. Perhaps there's really no differences in gender, only in sex, and perhaps we can reach equality if only we can figure out how to eradicate gender entirely. Perhaps misogyny is the root from which all other oppressions stem: and this group of feminists called themselves radical feminists, after that root, because radix is the Latin word for root.

Very few of this generation of thinkers, you may be unsurprised to note, actually lived under a second marginalization that was not directly entangled with sexism and gender; queerness was pretty common, but queerness is also so very hard to distinguish from gender politics anyway. It's perhaps not surprising that at this time several Black women who were interested in gender oppression became openly annoyed and frustrated by the notion that if only we can fix gender oppression, we can fix everything: they understood racism much more clearly, they were used to considering and interrogating racism and thinking deeply about it, and they thought that collapsing racism into just a facet of misogyny cheapened both things and failed to let you understand either very well. These thinkers said: no, actually, there isn't one original sin that corrupted us all, there are a host of sins humans are prone to, and hey, isn't the concept of original sin just a little bit Christianocentric anyway?

And from these thinkers we see intersectional feminists appearing. These are the third wave, and from this point much mainstream feminist throughout moves to asking: okay, so how do the intersections of misogyny make it appear differently in all these different marginalized contexts? What does misogyny do in response to racial oppression? What does it look like against this background, or that one?

But the radical feminists remained, because seeing your own problems and your own thought processes as the center of the entire world and the answer to the entire problem of justice is very seductive indeed. And they felt left behind and got quite angry about this, and cast about for ways to feel relevant without having to decenter themselves. And, well, trans women were right there, and they made such a convenient target...

That's what a TERF is.

Now you know.

[astraskylark]

Okay so Weiss and Yang look ready to actually land. Both of them are facing forward and with the way Weiss' hands are spread out it's a semi ready landing pose(work on the leg stance Weiss or else you're gonna break them). Yang looks ready-ish too. Looking at what her feet are going to stand on.

Blake and Ruby on the other hand are facing upward? Feels like Blake is still trying to reach to the surface with her cut ribbon even though there's no one there to catch it. Ruby looks absolutely terrified, she isn't even trying to reach for the surface she's just full on panicking, flailing and seems like she hasn't really processed what's happing yet (shocking right?).

I think its interesting that Yang and Weiss are positioned similarly considering their starting points are going to be very different. Yang thinks she’s the only one that fell while Weiss knows everyone did fall. If there are no emerald forest parallels then Weiss meeting Yang will help fill in the blanks real fast about Ruby and Blake. (Jaune I wish you strength in this trying time)

Ruby. Girl is not having a good time. Hasn’t been for awhile. If we’re doing Emerald Forest parallels, she’s gonna run into Weiss. Learn about Penny. One thing I ‘ve been wondering about is whether Weiss actually knows that Jaune killed Penny. Cause it seems like she was unconscious and then woke up to Winter with powers so she would logically assume that Penny died of her Cinder sustained injuries. I’ll have to rewatch it but anywho.

Blake looks frazzled. She had everything that meant the world to her: Yang, Weiss and Ruby. Now she’s failed to catch one, fallen with one and left one behind.

Imagining her finding Gambol in the sand and seeing some rounds missing in it and knowing the only person left up that would know how to use it is Weiss and coming to very dark conclusions. Can only imagine the absolute fear, even after she finds Yang, the trauma of failing once is gonna be something she and Yang need to overcome together.

If we’re strictly following EF parallels then I’m assuming either Weiss or Weiss and Ruby will run into Jaune (cause Weiss saw Ruby first walked away saw Jaune and then chose Ruby in V1) so we could see a fallout between Rubes and Jaune and Weiss will.... well honestly I don’t know. I know Weiss wouldn’t have agreed to Penny’s request. But she is pragmatic. But also I think she has a bleeding heart, She wont agree with how Jaune handled it but will probably be more concerned with Ruby’s reaction and state of being than her own. Also Jaune’s probably a wreck anyways and its all very complicated and sad. 

So Weiss might take up the role of emotional support and stability like she did in V5. My personal hope is that someone finally calls her out for her self sacrificial tendencies. I mean she’s got the lowest stamina out of everyone yet she’s always jumping into geysers and stopping trains or pushing people out of explosions like hello Miss Schnee have you heard of self preservation?

Yang and Ruby are gonna have a heart to heart about all the Summery implications of the Hound. Hoping its with Weiss and Blake let the team support each other please. Weiss dealing with all the familial stuff she has to deal with. She doesn’t know that Jacques dead. Winter’s a maiden and Weiss has never met a maiden who was happy/sane/alive. Also SHE LOST HER HOME???? I feel like it takes a back seat in the grander scheme of things but she lost her home. Every trace of her childhood is gone. There probably weren’t alot of good memories but there was some. And I do remember her ‘Atlas is my home’ line from V7 and now she doesn’t have that. Yang and Ruby still have Patch and Blake has Menagerie. But Weiss has them so the reunion is going to be so fucking good.

Don’t even know what Neo is doing. Is she gonna...hide in trees and pounce on them? Throw coconuts and hope one hits? Transform into someone and wreak general mayhem? You do you Neo.

I kinda lost track about what I wanted to say but main take away is V9 will break me and I can’t wait.

[hockeywhy]

4 times you faked a relationship + 1 time you didn’t; m.tkachuk

WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 17.2k. A/N: So, I didn’t want my effort for this fic to go to waste and I’ve decided to re-write it for Matty because he and the fake dating trope work so well together. I had to, so here it is.

one.

“I’d only be asking Matthew if I had no other options and needed a last resort,” you said. “Until then, I’m not even contemplating it.” 

“Kind of sounds like you’ve just about reached the bottom of your list, right around where you’re keeping Matthew, Y/N,” your friend, Anna, responded and though her tone said sympathy, the look on her face reflected anything but sheer elation. 

The invitation landed on your tabletop with a loud slap while you deposited yourself in a nearby chair unceremoniously, glaring at the decorative paper as if it offended you. Actually, scratch that. It did offend you. Greatly so. Honestly, it may as well have come in the form of one of those boxing gloves that sprung out of a box immediately upon opening and decked you square in the face. That’s how much it offended you. 

The golden letters inked on the thick paper warmly requested the pleasure of your company to witness the love of Josh Reynolds to Louise Jones six weeks from now. The location stated was a hotel you knew only through word of mouth: one of those fancy establishments that served ridiculously priced plates that were more canapes than actual meals. 

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

You and Josh called it quits just over a year ago after a relationship that became increasing rockier, significantly more emotionally exhausting. The two of you started dating in high school and if the relationship started off with nothing but the sort of blinding fiery passion only teens could be capable of, well someone missed the memo on giving you the message that all fires eventually fizzle out. Gradually, it was the only way you could see your relationship heading and it seemed that Josh felt it too. It made the breakup easier: it was neat and mutual. Still, that couldn’t be considered an incentive for either of you to invite each other to such grand, deeply personal events. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he found someone he wanted to tie the knot with so quickly but in retrospect, Josh had always wanted that while you were content as you were. That seemed to be the fork in your road with him.

On the one hand, you were angry at Josh for even considering jotting your name down on the list of attendees and on the other, you were angry at yourself for being angry about that. One moment you were dead set on declining the invite and the next, you considering that doing that would simply show you were bitter and unable to be civil about it. Besides, surely it was noted somewhere in the Rulebook of Ex’s that you just couldn’t do stuff like that. That seemed to just about do it. Like hell you’d given anyone the satisfaction of one-upping you.

You needed a plus one. Desperately. 

“Ask your brother then. Pretty sure that’s bound to impress anyone there. It’s not often many will get to say they brushed shoulders with an up-and-coming professional athlete.” 

“I don’t need that sort of plus one. If I did, I would’ve asked you—”

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

“—but what I need,” you ploughed on ahead, “is, well, something that can come off a bit more serious looking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Saying the word boyfriend won’t jinx you into permanent silence, you know. You need a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend for a day,” you agreed contemplatively. 

She picked up the invitation to look through it carefully and after concluding her inspection, she slapped the papers back down on the table, grinning. “Matthew it will be then!” 

Your younger brother, Jake, recently signed his entry-level contract with the Calgary Flames, in a way carrying forward the family tradition of starting a career in professional sports with them. Your grandfather did, your father did and now, here you were watching your little brother take on the mantle. Your family’s involvement in sport and, specifically, the team meant that you were somewhat familiar with the organization whether that meant attending home games or a few events arranged by the team. You couldn’t say you were the best of friends with them, certainly nowhere near the level your brother was, but generally speaking you were fond of the C of Red. 

That couldn’t also be said about Matthew, however.

It seemed that from the get-go, there was a personality clash between you. At first, you thought it was just Matthew picking on you, joking around as he disagreed with virtually anything you’d say but progressively, you were pretty sure the two of you didn’t even have the compatibility to keep things civil. Matthew had a way with pushing your buttons and it bothered you he could do that with so much ease, though the more you thought of it, the more it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you: you were all too familiar with his on-ice shenanigans, after all. Whenever you knew you had to be under the same roof as him, you’d tell yourself to not let him get under your skin but that resolve would last for all of ten minutes. Fifteen if you had a particularly good day. 

Much to your chagrin, it seemed your brother was closest to Matthew. Though you offered the spare room in your apartment, your brother was so warmly welcomed by Matthew. It was no doubt even Jake found your annoyance with his teammate entertaining.

The thought alone was frustrating enough. If one day, by chance, you caught sight of a white strand of hair on your head, you were dead set on blaming Matthew for it. Matthew and his smarmy attitude; Matthew and his smartass retorts; Matthew and the smirks he threw your way whenever your brother took his side, outnumbering you. 

You clenched your teeth, glaring at the invite. From the corner of your eye, you saw Anna’s outstretched hand holding your phone out to you. A groan formed in your throat and you wished you kept in contact with the handful of guys you tried dating after Josh. None really stayed. Or better said, none managed to draw you in. It was as if Josh had put a jinx on you. If that was the case, you hoped that this whammy would disappear if it meant watching him watch someone else walk down the aisle towards him. 

Anna waved the device at you insistently. “Do it. Come on. Even you know nothing says fuck you like turning up there with Matthew. Scrappy when he wants to be and he’s not bad to look at either. You know it.” 

You arched an eyebrow up at her. “More than Johnny?” 

She flushed visibly. Johnny and Anna were still a relatively new thing, dancing around their relationship carefully as if they were both doing this rodeo for the first time. It was pretty cute. “Don’t change the subject.” She placed the device down on the table in front of you then patted your shoulder. “I have a feeling you won’t regret it. If he gets on your nerves too much, well…it can’t be worse than watching your ex get married, right?” 

“Ouch,” you winced, but chuckled, knowing you were defeated. Matthew was the last resort, and you knew you were at the bottom of your list before you even started going through it. “You do realize if he declines, I’ll probably make a start on packing my bags and moving to Montana, right? The only time you’ll hear from me is when my handwritten letter goes through the nine circles of hell that is our postal service.” 

Anna fixed you with a stare that could only read as ‘do it’. “I wouldn’t be so insistent on this if I knew Matthew would say no. I have a feeling he’ll surprise you.” 

With a heavy sigh, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your list of contacts, thumb hovering over his name when it came up. Anna wasn’t wrong: Matthew wasn’t bad to look at all, that much you could admit. But god, if he turned you down…. you knew you wouldn’t be able to ever show your face in front of him or the rest of the team ever again. 

“I think I’ve had enough surprises from him to last a lifetime,” you mumbled but tapped the call symbol anyway.

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

You didn’t let him finish. “I need your help,” you ground out, eyes closing while you rubbed at your forehead with the tips of your fingers. 

There was silence on the other end of the line that had you biting your lip in anxiousness. You shouldn’t have done this. You really shouldn’t have done this. All it would take would be just hitting the ‘resume my account’ link on one of the dating apps you signed up for a while ago. Someone was bound to be attracted not only to you but the promise of an open bar—

“Music to my ears,” Matthew’s response came through. You could practically hear the smile in his voice and knew you’d regret it; you could easily tell from the tone of his voice. 

You sighed quietly, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table, eyes glued to the invitation. Fuck it, you could get someone else; easily, no doubt. The world of online dating was vast and there would always be takers.

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

“No, no. Come on, Y/N. Pretty sure this is the first time you’re calling me first so can we take a moment to just let that sink in?” Silence again, then a chuckle. “Okay, now that we did. How can I help you?” 

It wasn’t as if Josh had put you in the position to ask Matthew for a favor but still: fuck Josh, anyway. In a split second of sheer pettiness, you considered aiming to host the most extravagant, unforgettable weddings when your turn would come just to show him who does it better. 

“Are you free the third weekend in June?” you asked tiredly. 

“Don’t know. Depends what for and who you’re asking for.” 

You should’ve asked him face-to-face. At least then, he would’ve had the chance to see you roll your eyes, turn on your heel and walk away. “I’m obviously asking for myself. Could you just be straightforward for once and answer yes or no? You’re making me hold the line for longer than I anticipated and I’m happy to ask someone else,” you lied.

“Let me get this right—” Here comes, you thought exhausted. “You’re calling me for the first time since you have my number to ask me if I’m free the third weekend in June? As a favor for yourself.” 

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

You don’t know what it was about his words that downed you. It was nothing but a simple question yet the only thing you could think of was: the first boy I’ve dated and so far, the only one, seems to have moved on quicker than I anticipated and while I’m still trying to build myself back up, I’m sitting in my kitchen looking at a wedding invitation and wallowing in self-pity because regardless of how hard I try, of how much I’ve amended my standards, no one seems to do it so what if this is it for me? What if this is just the way it’ll be from now on? And now, I’m resorting to lying just to make myself feel better but also put a façade in front of someone who I know no longer cares about me like that. And really, nor do I about him but here we are. So, nothing much is happening in June, Matthew. Hopefully we get a lot more sunshine though!

What you responded with instead was, “just an old friend of mine getting married and I need a plus one. Nothing serious. Just go there for an hour or two, say some hellos and leave. It’s a quick in-and-out thing.” 

More silence on the other end of the line other than the muffled shuffle of what sounded like bedsheets. “Why not ask your brother then?” 

“Asked him already, said he’s got something lined up already. So, are you free or not?” you lied, quickly pressing on even if you knew that sounded a lot like desperation.

“For you, at a price.” He was smirking. You knew he was and more than ever, you wished 2021 was the year you could just reach through the phone and shake the person on the other end. 

“Uh-huh. Right. No, just forget it. Forget I even—”

You were going to end the call when Matthew laughed, quickly calling out a “no, no! Nothing weird, I promise. Just owe me a favor in return, is all.” 

“Do I get a choice?” you mumbled, more to yourself than towards him.

“I think we both know that you don’t. Text me the time and place,” he instructed and then, just as you were really about to end the call, he added, “hey, send me a photo of what you’re wearing also. I’ll match my tie to your dress, free of charge.” 

“Can you maybe ditch the jacket while you’re at it? Just want to make sure your tie’s within reach so I can strangle you with it.”

Even after you cut the call, Matthew’s laughter rang in your ears. 

-

Matthew matched his tie to your red dress. The color of the silk around his neck was so striking, you would swear it was made from the same material as your outfit. You sent him a photo of the material of the dress, more as a joke than having any expectations attached to it so you were pleasantly surprised to see he made the effort. For a moment, you allowed yourself to bask in sheer joy knowing that to any eye, the two of you could easily pass as a couple. At least, from looks alone if not from attitude. You were a proud person; fiercely so. Knowing you were now in debt to Matthew however he saw fit dealt a pretty impressive blow to your ego. You don’t let yourself linger too much on that thought, though. It was already difficult enough to loosen up and relax your stance as you climbed into Matthew’s car as soon as he texted you of his arrival. 

“You look good,” he commented after you fixed the seatbelt on. He turned in his seat as much as space would allow so he could look at you properly and in return, you arched an eyebrow, refusing to give way to his stare. “Are you trying to one-up the bride?” 

“Ha, ha. Funny. You didn’t even see the bride. I didn’t even see the bride.” 

“Didn’t see her but I’m seeing you, so,” he shrugged, by way of explanation before correcting his position. 

If asked, you wouldn’t deny that Matthew also looked good. Very good. But only if asked. It was impossible that someone with a face like that didn’t know they turned heads easily wherever they went. Matthew’s suit fit him as if it was sown on him. If the two of you had a better relationship, you would even dare ask him what it was he was putting in that hair of his that made it so shiny and gave those curls so much definition, taming them almost perfectly when he really put his mind to it. Whatever it was, you had a feeling he didn’t strain as much as you had earlier that morning to tame your hair and though you could give yourself credit for how well it turned out, your arms weren’t thanking you for it. 

Thankfully, much of the drive was pleasant. Though you hated small talk, you decided to make an effort if only to ease your nerves as the navigation system indicated you were drawing closer and closer to that glitzy hotel. You learned that although the season was over, Matthew, Brady and the rest of the family would spend a few weeks in Canada before heading back home to St. Louis. In turn, you told him that some of the days off you booked from work would be spent somewhere just as sunny and warm but with more beaches. It was safe ground. That, you could do although progressively, you were becoming more and more distracted, and less focused on the conversation the two of you managed to keep. 

“Want me to pull over?” Matthew asked suddenly. 

“What,” you mumbled, turning your attention from the road ahead to Matthew who seemed amused by the situation. “Why would I want you to do that?” 

“I’d want you to do that. You look pretty pale and honestly, I’ve just had the interior cleaned so—”

“Fuck you, Tkachuk, keep driving. I’m just a little…cold. How high do you have the AC on?” 

He fixed you with a stare while waiting for the lights ahead to turn green, eyebrow arched. “It’s June, Y/N, and uncomfortably warm. If it makes you feel better, though, I could turn it off and we can roll down the windows instead?”

“No, sorry—you’re right. It’s fine. Just leave the AC as it is.” 

The laugh he gave was nothing short of incredulous. “Repeat that back for me. Actually—hold on, do that when I can press record on my phone so I can have that on repeat. Did you admit I’m right?” 

“God, you’re making me regret inviting you,” you muttered though without heat. 

An uncomfortable silence slipped between the two of you or maybe, it was just your perspective on it. Matthew seemed perfectly at ease minding the road, only occasionally throwing a cursory glance towards the car’s navigation system whenever it announced a turn. Doing this seemed more and more like a bad idea. A terrible one. No one would’ve held it against you if you denied the invitation. In fact, you thought that was more expected than accepting it and turning up to the party as if you were seeing an old friend, not an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t too late though. Matthew could still turn the car around. 

“Listen, Matt—”

“You have now reached your destination. Your destination is on the right.”

You released a breath you weren’t even aware of holding, then threw a quick look towards the main entrance of the hotel. Already, a few guests whom you recognized were crossing into the lobby.

“You really don’t look okay at all,” Matthew repeated and there was less humor in his voice and more concern this time around. Even you weren’t ignorant to how much your mood kept fluctuating over the course of the drive: often, engaged in conversation but occasionally, withdrawn, barely just catching on to whatever it was Matthew was saying. Sure, he probably didn’t know you well enough to read you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was amiss. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I felt like there’s more to this thing than you’re telling me. You could’ve asked your brother, yet you didn’t—” 

Damn it. You made him swear to play along. You made a quick mental note to get back at him about it whenever you felt energized enough to do so.

“Matthew,” you said, your voice suddenly clear, tone neutral. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes so instead, you kept your stare fixed on the revolving doors ahead. “I’m only going to say this once and I hope that you won’t make me repeat it now or ever again. I’d prefer that you don’t mention it to anyone either. The person getting married today is my ex-boyfriend. Up until last year, we’ve been together since we were teenagers. I loved him. Since we broke up, I kept trying to look for parts of him in others, but I couldn’t find even a trace of who he was. I feel as I’ve been jinxed, and I felt that maybe if I come today, maybe if I see him with someone else, I can confidently say I’m fine with that. It hurt my pride when I received the invitation, so my first thought was to lie. If, for just a few hours, I can pretend I’ve also moved on and I’m not stuck in this…fucking weird limbo, then maybe it becomes true. A fucked up self-prophecy. So.” You pause, clearing your throat. Your mouth suddenly felt dry from your speech, yet you couldn’t feel a pang of regret in your chest or heat behind your eyes. “So. If you want out, that’s fine. After all, I’m asking you to pretend to be my date out of spite, I guess. And embarrassment. It’s childish and unfair and ridiculous but—”

You came to a halt when you felt a finger under your chin, and a gentle upward push forced you to raise your head up a little more. When you turned towards Matthew, you looked at him with a look of confusion on your face. 

“Keep your head up. We have a wedding to go to.” 

His encouragement sunk in faster than expected and as your expression relaxed, a smile formed on your face. 

Yeah. The two of you had a wedding to go to. 

-

The event hall was decorated minimally yet tastefully. It made everything seem even more personal and you received that impression from every detail: from the flower arrangements to the music, everything was a testament to a life united by love. Maybe your emotional outburst earlier accounted for it, but you felt lighter even as you watched the newlyweds glide along the floor for their first dance. Sure, you felt a desperate pang of want but it was distant. Muffled. 

Despite your initial thoughts, having Matthew at your side felt very much like a safety cushion. It surprised you to watch him settle into his role with so much ease that eventually, even you didn’t have to remind yourself to not withdraw whenever his arm wrapped around your waist: sometimes loosely, sometimes a little tighter, reeling you in closer.

Fish, here is your bait, you thought wildly as you stood tucked at his side while he accepted flatteries from one of the guests who swore had been a fan of the Calgary Flames since before he could even talk.

“You must be so proud,” the man turned towards you. “Your family’s truly one of a kind to have all played for the team and now—” He gestures towards Matthew as if to say all of this. “Must be something about those Flames!” 

You laughed tightly, just as Matthew squeezed your side. By that move alone, you could tell he was eating this up. 

“Yeah, just can’t get enough of them,” you concluded, pitching your voice just a little higher towards the end. To the man, it was as genuine as could be, but Matthew cautioned you silently with the slightest narrowing of his eyes, effectively warning you to be more realistic. “Hey, I’ll get us some refills? Try to be a little more inconspicuous in the meantime. Remember this isn’t your day,” you joked. 

“Only practicing for when our turn comes,” Matthew responded without missing a beat and released the hold he had on you. 

Once at the bar, you allowed yourself some extra moments to catch your breath. Even off ice, Matthew was a force to be reckoned with. He struck conversation with others easily, drew their attention with seemingly little effort and easily set the mood for whatever situation or person the two of you would run into. A part of you thought his profession had a lot to do with his mannerism, but a bigger part knew different:  mostly, it was really just Matthew. 

He had a way with words and with people that you haven’t been witness to before and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all show. He was, after all, a face for the public: familiar with interviews, familiar with the attention, apparently not overwhelmed even by less conventional questions. Watching him play this role was fascinating to say the least. It certainly took your mind off the circumstances so credit where credit was due. 

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.” 

You turned from the bar and came face to face with Josh. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were neatly rolled up past his elbows; behind the knot of his tie, you could see he’d undone the top button of the collar. You’d seen him make countless rounds across the entire floor, greeting guests and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Occasionally, you watched him dance either with his wife, or family members, or even guests you recognized as work colleagues. 

You smiled. “Thanks for the invite. It was a bit weird to receive it, I can’t lie about that, but I’m glad you sent it.” It surprised you to learn you weren’t even lying about that. Through the course of the evening, it dawned on you that maybe, it was more the thought of being here that made you anxious; the event itself, however, proved just how right you were. It felt…fine. You felt fine. 

“Yeah—uh, I wasn’t… I wasn’t really sure but, well, before…” He trailed off into a sigh. 

You chuckled softly. “Would you like to buy a vowel?” 

That made him laugh. Truly, genuinely laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s a bit weird for me also. But, well, before you and I were, well, you-and-I, we were friends. I would’ve hoped we’d still be friends even after…” He waved a hand in the air by way of explanation but that was sufficient for you.

“Won’t hurt to be friends. Whatever happened between us—well. Thing of the past. Build bridges and get over them, right?” 

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

“Hey. Congratulations, by the way! I’m happy for you. Really. I wish the two of you all the best. She seems really great.” 

“She is,” he agreed and cast a glance towards the room, eyes undoubtedly searching for her. “Are you—”

“Here you are.” 

Saved by the bell. A weight fell around your waist that, by now, was warm and familiar. Unconsciously, you leaned into Matthew, flashing a wide smile at Josh. At first, he seemed surprised by the sudden appearance but then his features settled into something more comfortable; something so much like relief that for a moment, you wished you could just come clean about it. You and Matthew were less than meets the eye.

Before you could even introduce them, a kiss was pressed to your cheek, knocking all air from your lungs and almost making you choke because of it.

What the hell.

“You were gone for some time, so I thought to check on you,” Matthew informed you, all matter of fact. To Josh, he said, “congratulations on the wedding. Must be pretty great to finally get to this point. You two look great together.” 

“Oh? Yeah. Yeah, thanks man. So glad you could come along today.” Josh turned to you, an eyebrow perked in interest. “I didn’t know you two were together.” 

“Oh we’re just—” 

You began but were promptly interrupted by Matthew. “We like to keep it lowkey. It hasn’t been that long for us but that’s not much of a problem when your gut tells you this is it. You know it well, right?”  

You were entirely caught off guard. Instead of responding immediately, you bought yourself some time by taking a sip from your glass of—whatever it was. Strong though. Just perfect for the situation you suddenly found yourself in: ex-boyfriend ahead, fake boyfriend to the side, promising sweet nothings that you knew would come back to haunt you at some ungodly hour. You wished you could step on his shoe; pull on those shiny curls of his real quick, knock some sense back into him. There was a difference between play a role well and clearly, playing it too well.

Matthew pushed ahead. “It’s pretty good timing for us though. We could take some notes for when our turn comes, right babe?” 

“I’ll let the two of you to it, then. Thanks again for coming.” Josh made a move to step away but before he did, he turned to you and caught your eyes. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You look good together. Just make sure you don’t take too many notes.”

“Wouldn’t dream to,” Matthew responded, and you could read the slight bite in his words. When Josh was out of earshot, he looked down at you. “You dated him? Just him?” 

“Hey, what’d I say about not bringing that up again? And save your dick measuring contests for the locker room, Tkachuk. Now’s not the time nor place.” 

“Now’s definitely the time and place,” he countered, making you roll your eyes but there was a smile on your face you couldn’t quite wipe off. “Come on. Let’s continue taking leaves out of their book.” In one swift motion, he took the glass from your hand and set it on the bar while above, the LED lights dimmed, and the playlist switched to a slower song. 

You threw him a cautious look, easily reading where that was going. “I’m not dancing.”

“Sure, you are. You want to give the impression of being happily in love? You need to start pulling your weight in this thing.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Atlas. Do your shoulders hurt from carrying the burden of our relationship?” you mocked, yet still allowed him to lead you towards the dance floor. Right in the center of it given the bride and groom appeared to sit this one out; you expected nothing less from him. You weren’t even surprised when he made an entire show out of it, forcing you to do a pirouette when the two of you claimed your spot. 

“You can’t even imagine the pain you put me through,” he sighed near your ear as the two of you began swaying to the music. 

“Well, you’re still standing so clearly it can’t be that bad.” 

“Baby, it’s torture.” 

You were grateful the two of you weren’t exactly face to face or you were sure Matthew would never have let you live down the flush you felt rising to your cheeks. Sure, he didn’t use the pet name in a genuine manner, but just hearing it roll off his tongue like that… You stopped that thought before it grew into a whole new different monster. 

After a few moments of silence passed, Matthew lowered his head closer to yours, his warm breath colliding with the skin on your throat. “Do you think now’s the right time to kiss? Are enough people watching?” 

You stepped on his foot. Not hard, but just with the right amount of pressure to draw a wince from him. Satisfied, you leaned back just a little to look at him properly. “Don’t even think about it, Tkachuk—”

“Thought about it already.”

Through clenched teeth, you hissed, “you. Are. Incorrigible.” 

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “If only you could meet yourself.” 

You snickered quietly then leaned back against him. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not the most convenient of things… and it wasn’t fair to tell you the full truth of it right on the day of. But—well, thanks.”

“That sounds like it was pretty difficult to let out. It’s very…. heartfelt.” 

“Just fucking accept it as I gave it to you, Tkachuk,” you complained, more amused than annoyed.

More silence followed, filled in only by the general buzz of the room and the slow melody. “And now?” Matthew questioned a short while later. You allowed an extended silence to fill in for your confusion. He picked up on it within seconds. “Do you still feel jinxed? Stuck in the same place while he goes on ahead in life?” 

You took some time to think through your answer, time during which the song faded into yet another slow one. Matthew didn’t give an indication of wanting to move away from the dancefloor, so you saw no purpose in you doing that. 

“Not really,” you concluded. “Just seems like we’re both following different trajectories. Doesn’t mean I’m left behind if I’ve not yet met someone to settle down with like he did. Maybe I just need to be here to come to terms with it. Good for him though. I’m genuinely happy for him and his wife. I think lots of people imagine going through this very same moment.” You ended with a shrug but then, to lighten up the moment, you added, “don’t mock me for it. Between the two of us, I’m the one with the pointy shoes.” 

Matthew laughed, a low, pleasant laugh right by your ear. “I’ll give you a free pass for what’s left of today.” 

“Your generosity astounds me. Please could you also sign my jersey?” 

“Is it my jersey?” 

“Why would it be your jersey when I have my last name printed out on one at the expense of my brother being roughed up a little?” 

“Don’t tempt me. That favor you now owe me? I might just use it to have you get my jersey so I can sign it since you so generously asked.” 

“Your call,” you shrugged. “Just know it’s going straight in the wash right after you scribble on it.” 

Matthew took a few small steps back, only to pull you back towards him. You played along and spun as you landed into his hold once again.

“You say that now, but when you’ll see yourself with it—”

“I’ll auction it on eBay.” 

The laugh you got out of Matthew stayed with you through the rest of the night and like never before, his good disposition easily transferred to you.

two.

When the elevator doors slid open, your brother and Johnny weren’t the only ones to step into the hotel lobby. Matthew accompanied them, flashing a smug smile as the trio approached and his eyes landed on you. You cast a quizzical glance from your brother, to Johnny, to Matthew and then looked towards Anna as if to ask are you seeing this? She only shrugged at you in silent response, though she was grinning from ear to ear. At least someone was certainly enjoying this.

“Last I remember, there were only two of you,” you commented.

“Was that before or after your third drink?” your brother chirped back.

Instead of humoring him, you shift your gaze to Matthew. “What gives, Tkachuk? Can’t be left at home unsupervised during family vacations?” 

“My house training has only gone so far,” he responded smartly, then nodded his head towards Anna and Johnny who were caught in a half-hug, apparently entertaining by watching you and Matthew bicker as if watching a tennis match. “They’re not family.” 

Anna feigned a gasp on your behalf. “Y/N and I are part and parcel, Matt. Thought you’d know that by now.” 

“Well, the three of us are part and parcel also, Anna. Thought you’d definitely know that by now,” he responded but you were already leading the way out of the hotel lobby and towards the busy square outside.

It was a hub of activity: from street vendors to dance and music performers, there was something to see regardless of which way you looked. Although you arrived at your holiday destination the previous day, the flight south coupled with the warm, sticky evening made you want to steer away from the busier parts of the town. Instead, you opted to lounge by the pool with Anna, having perhaps one too many cocktails to kickstart your vacation. Perhaps you missed Matthew’s arrival at some point then, though for the life of you, you couldn’t remember anyone mentioning he’d come along also. Not that it bothered you greatly.

Since the time you asked him to be your plus one some few weeks ago, the relationship between the two of you warmed slightly. Sure, he still knew which buttons to press to get a reaction out of you, but you saw it as being less ill-intended and more good-natured fun. You kept up with him easily and whenever it felt as if he was cornering you, you conceded with a roll of your eyes but never admitted defeat. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, but something changed on the day of the wedding right around the time you had spilled out your feelings about the entire deal to him. Looking back on it, you found it strange just how easily you did that, no second thoughts, no wishing for takebacks. You knew you owed him the truth given the position you put him in without plenty of heads-up, but you could’ve easily just simplified the entire thing. 

It wasn’t difficult to stick together as a group but eventually, you wandered off towards a few stalls on your own that have caught your eye. Though you wanted some more time to have Anna to yourself, it was technically her first vacation with Johnny. You could catch up with her later in the room; surely, she’d have even more swooning to do over him by then. Not that you blamed her. Johnny was an incredible guy. 

First, you stopped at a stall selling a range of baked goods that you simply couldn’t turn away from. And for good reason: the sour cherry churro you settled for was a dream come true. From there, you strolled towards a few small stores selling a range of products ranging from colorful graphic tees to earrings made from vibrant, colorful gemstones. You held a blue pair next to your ear, turning one way then another to watch as the light reflected off the gleaming gem. 

“Those suit your complexion,” the attendant commented and when you looked towards him, he smiled bashfully. 

A gentle heat crept up your neck, unable to keep the grin off your face but you couldn’t look away from him: his skin was lightly tanned, and a dusting of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His blond hair was messy in a way you could easily tell was styled to appear as such. He was cute in a sort of conventional way, but you liked the way he smiled at you, all shy but certainly genuine.

“Funny you say that. I always had a feeling blue was my color,” you responded, and his smile widened. 

“Here for vacation?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I just got here yesterday, and I’ll be around for a few days,” you added, a little hopeful. 

Hey, if you could score some good company while in the area, then you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to flirt a little and make good with someone more local.

“Good. That’s really good to know.” He regarded you for a moment and you were certain that caused your blush to deepen though at the same time, it made you feel a little…exposed. “Hey, are you free—”

“The red ones are nicer.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustration quickly replacing the feeling of near euphoria. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of all times he could have run into you, the universe fixed it so he popped up when you least needed that to happen. 

“I prefer the blue,” you countered, then held them up against your ear again though you knew you didn’t need to double check if they suited you. 

“No, trust me with the red,” Matthew insisted, and you saw him appear behind you in the small circular mirror you were looking into. He was so close. “Goes well with that little number I got you the other day.” 

You sputtered. “W-what?! Stop messing—”

In the mirror Matthew’s eyes flicked from you to the attendant. “Yeah, you know the one. I left the box on the bed in our room, thought to surprise—”

“Tkachuk, just shut up. There isn’t an our room—”

This was so painfully uncomfortable. So frustratingly annoying, you felt the blood warm in your veins, that familiar wave of anger coursing through your body.

“I’ll ring those up for you,” the attendant said, his voice carefully polite while he accepted the red earrings from Matthew’s outstretched hand. 

You hated him. Passionately hated him. It was easy for Matthew to play games like those because he could easily get just about anyone, but you? It wasn’t quite as easy to not be a pro-athlete who had pretty much everything lined up and going for them. You tried catching the store attendant’s eyes again but he was busy accepting the cash from Matthew after packing away the earrings in a small paper bag. You knew he wouldn’t catch sight of it, but it didn’t stop you from casting a longing, apologetic glance towards him before leaving the store. 

It felt as if for every two steps you took, Matthew only needed one and despite the crowds, he caught up with you easily, holding out the bag towards you while you powered ahead. 

“Come on, don’t be mad. The red ones are definitely better than the blue ones,” Matthew tried to reason with you while holding the hand stretched out to you, insistent on his offer. When you didn’t respond and instead, tried to rush further ahead, Matthew pressed on. Him managing to keep up with your pace only added fuel to the fire. “Don’t tell me you’re upset over Ron Jon back there.” 

You came to a halt, turning to glare up at him. “I am, Matthew. You didn’t need to do what you did back there. There was no reason for it. It was shitty of you, and I need you to back off while I try to enjoy the rest of my night.” You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the overwhelming feeling of anger that normally resulted in tears. “You could at least pretend to be sorry about it.” 

With that, you turned on your heel and squeezed your way through the crowds, ignoring Matthew’s calls to stop and come back and that he was only joking. 

Too late for that, you thought bitterly, making a turn towards a street popular for its dining and bar venues. 

-

The part of the archipelago more popular with tourists was truly a sight to behold as the sun went down, coloring the sky in some of the warmest, most calming shades of orange, red and yellow you ever saw. It seemed as if everyone gathered on the promenade, phones at the ready while taking photos of the sky, selfies and group shots. Even you couldn’t resist it and after taking a few well-centered selfies, a passing couple offered to take your photo which you immediately posed for. 

Later, once the sight sunk in, you moved towards a nearby bar, first attracted by the pink, purple and blue neon lights and then, the music. A good cocktail, good music and a gorgeous sunset were all it took for you to feel more relaxed, leaving behind the event from earlier. He wouldn’t be the first cute guy you’d see, nor the last and indeed, it was easy for you to settle in the more crowded area of the locale where people were dancing either solo, with a partner or as part of a group.

Not long after you weaved your way onto the dancefloor, you felt a pair of hands settle on your hips, drawing you in. You went easily, accepting the embrace, accepting the way you were being led into the dance, swaying your hips along with his. You didn’t even miss a beat when he spun you around, but you kept your hands pressed against his shoulders, rather than wrapping your arms around his neck. You were tipsy, no doubt, and admittedly felt touch-starved but you weren’t quite in the mood for anything more. You even dodged his mouth when he tipped his head down to your lips so instead, he landed a kiss on your cheek. Still, he was pretty relentless. The dance took a turn that was significantly more sensual, crossing a line into discomfort, and you felt that was your cue to try and remove yourself from him. It was easy initially. You threw him a small smile and when he caught hold of your hand, you simply motioned you were only going to get a drink, hoping that would keep him where he was with the knowledge you would return. 

When you finally pulled away, you made a bee line towards the exit of the venue but again, you were a step too slow. The guy caught you just at the door.

“Where are you running off to, pretty?” he slurred, his voice louder above the thumping of the music. 

“Oh—Um, just getting a breath of fresh air, is all,” you said quickly and immediately wished you didn’t venture off in a place like this alone. It was as if you suddenly forgot everything that was common sense, pushed towards it by earlier frustration. 

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” He frowned, but there was no clarity in his eyes. He was entirely out of it and his fingers squeezed painfully around your wrist. You flinched visibly, squirming under his touch and even if you tried pulling your arm away, it was useless. He overpowered you even through the drunken haze. “Wanna go? Fine, then let’s go together.” 

“No—uh, I’m actually here with my friends. I’ve just—I saw them so I’m going to catch up with them. They must be looking for—”

“Then we can go to them together, sweetheart. Here, point them out to me.”

“No, really. I’m going to them alone,” you emphasized and put all your force into trying to free your hand. It may have taken him by surprise that led to his loosened grip, but as soon as you turned on your heel, you found out there was more to it than just that.

You almost faceplanted right into Matthew’s chest when you tried making a run for it. He stood there, eyes flicking between you and the guy with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was hammering wildly in your chest and instinctively, you almost glued yourself to his side. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to force a move on you, but it was the first time it was done so in such a thoughtless, drunken manner. Perhaps your fear was also enhanced by being alone in an unfamiliar place. To see Matthew this time felt like a blessing.

“Babe,” Matthew said by way of greeting, pulling you to him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

You didn’t realize you were trembling until you stood so close to him, legs suddenly feeling like jelly in front of your salvation. Matthew could easily overpower the guy; even if they were roughly the same height, there was a big difference between the body of an athlete and the swaying one of a drunk guy. Still, it didn’t mean you wanted Matthew to get caught up in anything he’d later regret or would affect him in any way, so you pressed a hand to his chest trying to put some pressure into guiding him away from the scene.

“She yours?” the drunk guy slurred, head tilting back, chin pointing towards your general direction.

“Yeah. So, guess that makes the situation even worse for you,” Matthew responded. His tone was light, seemingly non-threatening to someone who didn’t know him but you did. You knew him and you could read him crystal clear in this moment. 

“Matthew, please,” you muttered, looking at him almost desperately while trying to put all your body weight into guiding him away. 

The guy scoffed. “You’ve gotta do better than that, buddy.” He snickered. “You’ve gotta keep ‘em on a tighter leash unless you want them to go—”

Matthew made a move towards him, but you quickly stepped in front of him, essentially forcing him to halt. “Matt, please. Let’s go, okay? Please. I really want to leave. Right now.” 

He glared at the guy for a moment longer but the hard look in his eyes softened as soon as his gaze fell on you. You took the liberty of placing most of your weight against Matthew, allowing him to remove both of you from the situation and towards a less crowded area. That was easy to find: with the sun having long set, most of the crowds cleared away from the promenade so there was plenty of space for you to collect yourself in peace. 

He didn’t pry into the situation, didn’t even make any smartass comments. Instead, he let you slip away from under the safety of his arm while you pace around a small area, trying to work off the anxiety as much as you could. You had to count your breaths, remind yourself to breathe in then out slowly. You were okay. You were far from that guy, and he couldn’t hurt you. At least, no more than he already did. Your wrist felt a bit sore, but you’d take that over anything worse. 

“You okay?” Matthew asked at last, tone careful. “I can go back there and pull him out, you know, get him to apologize.”

“No!” you said loudly, desperately, then cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “No, don’t go. Please. I just need a moment, that’s all. Just a little. Could you not leave? I’ll be fine in a moment. Just—just need to catch my breath—"

“Hey, hey—relax. It’s over. He can’t put a hand down on you now, or ever.” Matthew took a few steps closer to you as if apprehensive to approach you in the first place. You knew what you must’ve looked like: pale, still shaken by what happened. He held a hand towards you, palm up. “Can I touch you?” 

You looked from it to his face, then said, “don’t get any funny ideas,” but it lacked your usual punch. You took his hand though, letting yourself be drawn to him. Matthew smelled like the sea. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d gone down to the beach earlier to take a dip. You wished you did that rather than try and drink your frustration over missing out on a random guy. God, you could sleep right here if sleeping while standing was a thing. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did before—with, uh—what did you call him?” 

Matthew chuckled, a low, deep chuckle. “Ron Jon.” 

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

“And you have a funny way of expressing gratitude.” 

“Sorry—”

He laughed louder. “I’m messing with you.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry I rained on your parade earlier with the guy back then. If you really liked him…” He trailed off, as if to let you fill in the sentence for him.

You laughed weakly, waving a hand dismissively. “Thanks. Again. Seems like nowadays, I just keep having to thank you for one thing or the other.” 

You felt him shrug. “Fine by me. You keep adding to these favors you owe me.” 

“It’s only one. Well. Two if you want to be a dick and count this one too.” 

You took a step back, detaching yourself from him to run both hands through your hair. You felt exhausted, drained of energy yet relieved. Who would’ve thought you’d be pleased to see Matthew pull another one of his appearing out of the blue acts?

“You give me no other choice but to be one,” he joked. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. Everyone’s wondering where you were, so you kind of lost your right to vote on dinner for tonight.” 

You sighed heavily. “Let me guess: you all ganged up on me in my absence and settled on lobster?” 

Matthew grinned. “Can’t vacation in a seaside town and skip out on that.” 

“Ugh. Sea critters.” You pulled a face, drawing yet another laugh from Matthew. It made you feel oddly accomplished but you cut that train of thought there, forcing it to derail elsewhere, to place more familiar to you, more comfortable. “Matthew, I mean it when I said thank you. That was—it was scary,” you admitted as the two of you started walking back towards the hotel. You pulled your wrist into your hand, rubbing at the skin gently. Focused on the road ahead, you missed Matthew frowning down at the gesture. “I don’t know how that happened. It’s just—it’s not my thing to do. Go out alone, especially in a place like that. Good instincts by the way,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, voice tight. “I don’t want to think about it again if I can help it.” 

You cast a confused stare in his direction but by then, it was his turn to look ahead, a frown marring his features. You didn’t push any further though. 

Later that night, after you and Anna decided to call it a day and switch off the lights, you lay in bed glancing a look up at the ceiling above. You didn’t think back on the evening’s events but rather, thought back to how a familiar small brown paper bag was taped to your room’s door before dinner. Anna had fixed you with a knowing stare as you plucked it off the door, tipping its contents into the palm of your hand. 

Then, you thought how during dinner, Matthew had claimed the seat next to yours and complimented the earrings you wore, remarking how awfully familiar they seemed though he could swear he didn’t know where from. For the first time, you had an inside joke to share with him and neither of you bothered to offer any clarifications to everyone else around the table as they tried to press for details. 

three.

The Flames’ first game of the season was scheduled to take place in Las Vegas and with a few days left of vacation, you couldn’t skip on the opportunity to return to the city you were inexplicably fond of, as well as watching your brother play on the third line. The night promised to be unforgettable, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although there were plenty of things to keep you busy throughout the day, your eyes would occasionally wander down to your watch, counting down the hours until the start of the game. It seemed like most of the city was doing the same.

Often, you’d spot handfuls of people donning Knights jerseys and occasionally, there would be a few Flames fans wandering the streets and locales. You’d only spotted one person wearing your brother’s jersey but that was more than enough for you – he was a fairly new face in the professional league, but he certainly pulled his weight during every shift he had on ice whenever given the opportunity. Luckily, you managed to take a quick photo of their back before they disappeared into the crowds, sending it to your brother along with a thumbs-up emoji. 

He didn’t respond immediately, nor did you expect him to. You could only imagine how quickly he racked up pre-game nerves and he had a pretty strict routine, which included avoiding his phone until after the game. You couldn’t really make sense of superstitions even if each member of your family who played, whether professionally or otherwise, had their own. Naturally, you were surprised when your phone pinged, indicating a new message almost half an hour later. Except, it wasn’t quite who you were expecting.

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

You frowned, but all it took was a little more attention on your part to notice you hadn’t sent the message to your brother but rather, to Matthew. Lately, he was one of your top contacts for frequent messaging.

You wrong number

You good luck to you too though, i guess :/ 

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

Matthew [attachment: photo of an ice rink where a few players were captured in motion]

Matthew [attachment: photo of his skates, taken from the players’ bench]

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing? 

You [emoji: middle finger] 

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

You then go handle ice cold so you don’t get handled tonight

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition 

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

You good luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Matthew :) 

You dropped your phone on the table with a low groan, slouching in your chair. From across the table, Anna shot you a confused stare which quickly morphed into understanding when you rolled your eyes, shooting your phone a look of frustration as if the device itself was to blame. 

“Anything interesting?” she asked in a singsong tone. 

“If you count Matthew being his usual self interesting, then that’s what’s up. Otherwise, nothing new.”

“By his usual self, do you mean engaging? Funny? Witty? So good with his words that he yet again takes your attention and keeps it while the rest of us, mere mortals, struggle to do that for longer than a few minutes tops?” 

You arched an eyebrow, somewhat amused. “All that – just empty words.” 

Anna leaned back in her seat, taking her glass with her while twirling the straw, looking ahead somewhat thoughtfully. “You know what the two of you remind me of? Those two kids in the playground who think love can only be expressed through pulling hair and making snide remarks.” 

“First of all, that’s a shitty way of trying to get someone to realize you have feelings for them and second of all, love is a pretty big word. You managing to carry it okay?” 

“Okay, maybe not love. But like? It has to be like. Say what you want to say but it looks different from the outside.” 

“Okay, you keep staying out there and let me know what you’re seeing. I like your imagination. Very vivid,” you commented but there was no bite to your words and Anna threw her head back with laughter. 

You didn’t think much of your exchange with Matthew throughout the rest of the day, nor did you try to linger too long on Anna’s interpretation of your relationship with Matthew. You let it wash over you, knowing it’d give her too much satisfaction if you fretted too much over it and anyway, many of your thoughts seemed to fly towards the evening’s game. 

By the time the two of you made your way to the arena, however, you moved from anxiety to excitement within the space of mere moments, apparently. Even if this wasn’t your first rodeo and you’d been to countless games before, there was nothing quite like the thrill of an opening game. You and Anna had spaces reserved in the upper stands along with other family members and significant others but both of you chose to watch the warm-ups close-up, so you hung around by the glass at ice level. 

The Vegas Knights and the Flames stepped on the ice to a combination of cheers and the thump of a loud electronic mix. You spotted your brother almost instantly. He did a quick lap around the team’s half of the ice before pulling a puck towards him with his stick, sliding it this way and that before shooting it over towards the net. Once sufficiently warmed up, he cast a searching look around the rink and you quickly waved both arms up in the air to try and get his attention. You knew he’d spotted you, but he made an entire show out of looking over you until you smacked a hand against the panel. You knew the sound wouldn’t be heard over the general noise of the arena, but he still laughed. When he skated over, you held your phone up, giving it a quick shake and mouthing “selfie?”. 

He flashed a thumbs up and you quickly turned around to take the photo, but it wasn’t until you inspected it afterwards that you noticed you were photobombed by Matthew himself. You had every intention to look up from the screen and somehow try and get his attention only to glare at him, but he was a step ahead. You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed Matthew standing right there by the glass, smirking at you.

“Asshole,” you mouthed, not daring to voice it out given you were surrounded by kids.

Matthew winked, skated to collect a stray puck then threw it up over the boards towards one of the kids standing right next to you. The kid was clearly thrilled by the gesture, bouncing up and down with the puck held over his head as if it were a trophy. You couldn’t help it: your heart melted at the sight, so you simply nodded once at Matthew, apparently just in time as the warm-up countdown reached zero.

You weren’t surprised the home team were putting on such a show for the opening night. There was a little bit of Vegas in every opening act: from the fireworks set off outside the arena to the showgirls and mind-blowing animations projected down on the ice, it felt more of a Stanley Cup playoff game than the start of a regular season game. This was Vegas and no one did it quite like Vegas did, you had to give that to them. 

Both teams were almost evenly balanced throughout the first period but stepping out of intermissions and into the second, the Flames started powering ahead. It was as if something had clicked together even better and they functioned as a well-oiled machine, both in offence and defense. By the end of that period, they were leading the Knights 3-2 and you were more than elated your brother had earned himself an assist. Like all games, tensions formed quickly, and the third period saw both teams play aggressively. On several occasions, you caught sight of players clearly chirping each other even while heading towards their respective benches after the end of a shift. Once, Matthew seemed to be involved in a seemingly endless yelling match with a player on the opposing team. There were more checks against the panels, an impressive number of penalties drawn by both teams, and it felt as if the atmosphere was just tethering towards a fight.

It happened right after the Flames scored the fourth goal with just two minutes left of the game. 

The moment the puck was dropped at center ice, you watched as Matthew charged ahead towards one of the Knights players who didn’t hesitate to drop the gloves. Between them, Matthew had the faster instinct, and he landed the first punch, effectively forcing both players to fall to the ice while the referees scrambled to try and split them apart. They were there a moment too late, just mere seconds after you caught sight of knuckles scraping along Matthew’s mouth on the big screens above. At first, it seemed to be nothing more than a graze but once he was separated and made his way towards the Flames bench, you noticed several spots of blood on his jersey on the screens above that made you almost jump out of your seat.

Sure, this was a familiar sight, but it didn’t alleviate the sheer shock and restlessness. Whatever had happened between them must’ve been a pretty big deal to set Matthew off the way it did. There was no way of sugarcoating it: the fight was vicious. More than ever, you wanted the period countdown to reach zero so you could go down to the lockers. It wasn’t just a few nagging feelings towards Matthew that led you to react the way you did. He was a friend, after all, so worrying for him was simply natural. An expected way of responding to a situation like that. 

“He had it worse before, remember?” Anna reminded you as you followed the small stream of relatives and friends down towards the players’ rooms.

“Still looked pretty bad to me,” you responded, briefly pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Before she could continue being the voice of reason, you added in a light tone, “I just want to see if he had any teeth knocked out of his mouth this time around.”

It took some time before the players filed out and as you watched them come out one by one, you almost wished you saved this for somewhere less…well, public. Sure, you were just a friend checking on a friend, but you wished you could do that without an audience. 

Your brother emerged first, beaming, no doubt pleased with the win, and you hugged him tightly, easily sharing his joy. 

“He’s just getting ready to come out now,” he informed you, heading nodding back towards the locker.

You blinked. “What? Oh—no, I’m just. I was waiting for you to say congratulations. What are you even talking about,” you mumbled but inevitably, your eyes were drawn towards the locker room as the door swung open and Matthew stepped out.

His hair was still damp but already curling again. He was dressed in the same suit he probably arrived in, a simple light grey number that fit him perfectly. He had his backpack on also and in one hand, he carried an apparently ice-cold bottle of water while the other was pressing an ice pack to the corner of his mouth. When you made eye contact, he frowned lightly and for a moment, seemed almost hesitant to approach you. This time, you were a step ahead and cornered him before he decided to walk away.

You nodded your head once, indicating in his general direction. “What? You’re trying to add to the family’s hefty dentist bill by getting a few teeth knocked out already?”

Matthew shrugged. “It’s not hockey without a few scraps now and then.”

“For a guy who got a goal and an assist, you sure don’t look too pleased with that.” 

At that comment, Matthew’s expression shifted, lightening up considerably. “Are you keeping track of my stats now?”

“What? No, Tkachuk. I was doing what everyone else in that arena was doing: paying attention generally speaking.” 

Suddenly, his entire face scrunched up in pain and he almost doubled over as he groaned. Instinctively, you reached out for him, eyes widening a little when bending down a little to try and look at his face. 

“Oh my god—Matthew. Are you okay? Do you need me to get a medic to check—” 

You frowned as soon as you felt his shoulders tremble under your touch. Slowly, it dawned on you he was laughing. Laughing. You slapped his shoulder lightly, the gesture more a tap than anything else and you started walking down the corridor quickly, trying to catch up with everyone else as they filed out of the arena. 

“Hey, hey, wait, Y/N! Come on, don’t be mad,” he called out after you and you heard him jog to catch up with you. When he did, he took a couple more steps ahead then stepped in your path, walking backwards to match your pace. “I was only messing around. I couldn’t not do that. You should’ve seen your face, honestly.” 

“My face? Hope you’ve seen yours. I’m not mad. Me being mad would basically mean you managed to get to me which you really didn’t, so don’t give yourself any credit, Tkachuk,” you responded. “You just reminded me you’re still a dick so thanks for that.” 

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.” 

“If you’re searching for sympathy, you’re looking for it in the wrong place,” you informed him, side stepping him so that he resumed walking at your side instead. After a few moments of silence, you conceded with a sigh. “Seriously speaking. How’s your mouth?”

“Don’t think I’ll need fillers, let’s just say.” He removed his hand from his mouth, and you looked over. 

Thankfully, it seemed that putting ice on it quickly was paying off. The area was somewhat red, but no significant damage seemed to be visible to the untrained eye. He was certainly miles better than he was just months ago. 

“Looks okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “What happened? Honestly, it looked pretty intense from the outside.” 

Matthew didn’t respond and you didn’t press him for details even after you stepped out into the balmy Vegas night. If he chose to not share with you, then you guessed it must’ve been either pretty personal or pretty stupid. You leaned more towards the former. You didn’t even complain when he followed you to the car you hired, claiming the passenger seat. Before you also stepped inside, a message pinged in from Anna informed you she had taken off with Johnny for dinner but promised to be back in the room in a few to catch up.

You didn’t start the engine when you fixed your seatbelt and instead, leaned your head back against the rest, watching a few other vehicles pull out of the car park. In his seat, Matthew was looking out of the window to his left, heading resting against a loosely formed fist propped up against the door. 

“He was talking shit about you,” he said at last, but didn’t turn to you when he spoke. 

“Who was?” 

“The guy on the other team. He made a comment about you towards your brother at the end of the shift. Something about… I don’t know, something crude, vulgar. Don’t really remember it.” 

You didn’t quite believe him on the last part, but you allowed it anyway. “Okay… Well, I don’t know the guy anyway, so it didn’t matter, Matthew. You should have let it slip by or left my brother to deal with it.” Then, out of curiosity, you asked, “why didn’t you?”

More silence. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a passing car would cut through it but it, too, would be gone in seconds.

“Because I couldn’t.”

You pursed your lips and your fingers clenched then unclenched in your lap. You placed your hands on the steering wheel, then dropped them away before settling them back on it after starting the engine. 

“Thanks, I guess. You just keep making me owe you favors.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“So, I’ll clear that now with dinner. Just please don’t tell me you’re going to need to be on a smoothie diet. I’ll feel bad eating something really good while you’re there with a strawberry and banana drink. Not that I’d stop eating though, just so you know. But it’s the thought that counts,” you said and finally, finally he chuckled quietly. 

“No smoothie diets this time.”

You sighed dramatically. “Maybe no smoothie diets ever?”

Matthew shrugged. He was still not meeting your eyes but that was okay. “Can’t promise that. Kind of comes with the job. Just in case though, I like the sweeter stuff more. Triple chocolate, Oreo pieces, peanut butter.” 

“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll file that under information I don’t care to know about.” 

“I’m injured. Show some sympathy,” he demanded without heat, finally turning to you. 

You cooed then reached out with one of your hands to pat his cheek lightly. “Aw, really searching for it in the wrong place.”

“I’ll make do with what I can get,” he allowed, and you could swear he leaned into your touch, but you tore your hand away before either of you got too comfortable. 

four.

Matthew called in his favor after a few of his teammates agreed where to host their Halloween party. 

“Kind of sounds like you’re the one asking for a favor,” you commented, planting yourself at your kitchen table while securing the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Matthew sighed on the other end. “Sort of. Who does a themed Halloween party anyway? The theme itself is Halloween.” 

“You’re not wrong about that. Could be fun though, a bit more unique. So, what’s the theme for this year?” 

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation. 

You stilled and were grateful he wasn’t in the same room as you. It took you a great deal more energy over the course of the past few months to convince yourself that Matthew didn’t attract you in one way or another. His looks aside, it was rare you came across someone who could easily keep up with your snide remarks and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that there was more to Matthew than just being a typical athlete with his share of well-deserved fame. He was funny, dedicated and undoubtedly, caring. You had some first-hand experience with the latter. After all, he didn’t owe you anything to make him obligated to jump into whatever weird situation you found yourself in.

You warmed to him little by little. If you found him attractive, well that was for you alone to know though it made everything just that more difficult. Thankfully, Matthew seemed pretty oblivious to it or at least, he was doing a good job at pretending he didn’t catch you staring at him on several occasions or the few times you took a discrete step back if it felt like you were too close to him. Knowing he was asking you to go together as a couple (pretend couple, you corrected yourself) only added to the difficulty of coming to terms with your…crush. 

Puppy love, you assured yourself. It’ll go as quickly as it came. 

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, still here. Guess it sucks another year will go by without the opportunity to bring out your Fortnite costume.”

“Oh, come on. I wouldn’t dress like a game character!”

“Matthew,” you warned.

There was a pause, then, “okay, fine. Maybe I would. So, can you come?” 

You shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “I owe it to you, don’t I?”

“Great! Hey, choose something good for us. There’s going to be a prize for best dressed and I have my eyes on it.”

“I think we can both agree my creativity will not let us down. I’ll text you my idea. You just make sure you actually stick to it, so I don’t end up looking stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I won’t dump you on Halloween.”

“Good to know I won’t end up traumatized and have my favorite holiday ruined,” you said, by way of goodbye.

-

“Hey, spin around for me once. You look good. Blonde’s not bad on you.” 

“No color’s bad on me,” you responded but refused to entertain Matthew by complying with his request. Instead, you rang the bell to Noah’s apartment after the door didn’t budge when Matthew tried the handle. 

“Come on, just a spin,” Matthew insisted, nudging his elbow into your own then pressed the doorbell himself once again – hard, as if that would make it ring louder.

“Only if you dance for me and do the entire Greased Lightning choreography without missing a step.” 

Matthew feigned a groan and you shot him an amused look. Before you could even comment on that, the door opened, and Noah stood at the threshold. The ruckus from inside spilled out into the corridor and from what you could see beyond him, it was a full house of all sorts of characters. 

“Wow! Sandy and Danny! Finally, someone with really good taste,” Noah said by way of greeting and he looked towards you pointedly. 

You flashed him a grin. “Always a pleasure to exceed expectations,” you responded and stepped into his open arms, a clear invitation for an embrace that was shortly broken apart by Matthew.

“Hey, none of that man,” he said, pulling you back and easily holding most of your weight as you broke into a laugh that had you stumbling into his side. “I didn’t even get to tell her she’s the one that I want.” 

“Yeah, well, you better shape up ‘cause I need a man,” you responded, without missing a beat though you couldn’t help but replay his words in your mind. They sounded a lot like a broken record that you desperately wished to stop immediately before this…thing went way too far and spun out of control.  

You were both led towards a photo wall and if you had any nerves about striking good poses without at least some liquid courage first, all that vanished. To your surprise, Matthew easily took the lead initially, falling to his knees in front of you in an attempt to recreate the part where a smitten Danny fell before Sandy, completely and utterly overwhelmed by her presence. Despite it being difficult to control your laughter, you played along with ease. At first, you were simply grinning down at him but you couldn’t let all his in-character effort go to waste, so you turned, casting a glance down towards him over your shoulder. To your side, Noah’s flash was going off every few seconds as he tried to capture the two of you from the best angle, together with cheers of encouragement. For your second pose, you rested your arms on Matthew’s shoulders once he rose back to his full height and his hands held on to either side of your torso. Again, the flash went off and again, the two of you changed pose into something more casual: him, standing behind you with his palms on your hips while you place a hand on his face, grinning at the camera. The flash went off again and he whooped loudly.

“I’m never inviting both of you to a party with this theme again,” Noah muttered, feigning disgruntlement. “You can’t come into my home and kill it like that.” 

“Blame the one who came up with this idea in the first place,” Matthew defended, holding both hands up in the air in a gesture of innocence. 

It was true. The idea to dress as Danny and Sandy from Grease came to you fairly quickly. You knew the two were a popular go-to, but you enjoyed the movie greatly. Plus, it was a great opportunity for you to pull out a pair of red heels you invested a hefty sum of money into. And, well, admittedly there was something about Matthew that made you think he’d suit the role just fine. When you shared your idea with him, he was on board from the start without complaining or suggesting alternatives. You were grateful for that: when Matthew picked you up earlier, dressed in an all-black outfit, leather jacket and hair styled to rival John Travolta’s, you gave yourself a mental pat on your shoulder. If any photos would go up on the internet, you were pretty sure Instagram would be grateful to you. Certainly, you knew Chantal and Keith would get a kick out of it for sure.

“Guilty as charged,” you acknowledged. “I’m going to look for Anna. Catch you later.” You gave a wave to the both of them before making your way towards the hub of activity where couple costumes ranged from peanut butter and jelly to superheroes. 

She was fairly easy to locate, in part because she told you she and Johnny would dress as Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. The red, blue and gold of her outfit were unmissable even in a sea of costumes. As soon as she spotted you approaching, she made a beeline and wrapped an arm around yours.

“Tell me you and Matthew will recreate the entire You’re the One That I Want scene,” she pleaded. “Please tell me that at some point this evening, you’ll tell us to clear the dancefloor so the two of you can have your moment.”

You rolled your eyes, dragging her along towards a table hosting drinks and small bites. “There’s no moment we’re going to be having.” 

“Because you don’t want to or because you want to so badly that you don’t know how to ask him? I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.” 

“Neither,” you muttered but even you’d be able to hear the lack of conviction in your tone from a mile away. 

To take your mind off it, you poured yourself a glass of red wine, taking a tentative sip from it. Across the room, Matthew had deposited his black leather jacket away and started making rounds around the room. You took a longer sip from your wine and looked away. 

Anna fixed you with a knowing stare which you refused to acknowledge, but she knew you like the back of her hand. “It’s okay to say you like him, you know,” she advised, and you hated the soothing tone she tried to take when saying that. It felt more pitying than anything, as if you hadn’t already had your share of disappointments in love—or, relationships better said. 

“Who said anything about liking him? He’s not bad to look at I’ll admit, but that’s where it stops.” You frowned, looking out of the nearest nearby window that gave a broad view of the city below. “That’s where I want it to stop,” you admitted, this time quieter. 

You were well aware that you were occasionally trying to look for a narrative that was most convenient for late night thoughts when you had the peace and privacy to think of him as you wished. The reality couldn’t be more different, though, and you knew that. Matthew was helpful to you before because he was good friends with your brother and eventually, you realized that it was just part of his nature. Beyond being successful, beyond his fame and recognition, Matthew was kind and funny and respectful. It was just that you didn’t give him the chance to before and now that you got to know him better, you suddenly realized that…what? You’d like the first man who gives you a helping hand? If that were the case, you should’ve gotten the memo sooner: it would’ve been easier liking the tech guy from work who once debugged your laptop.

It wasn’t doing you any good to try and look for a ‘but’ in every situation: Matthew is helpful because he’s good friends with my brother but it’s not like that should force him to act as if we’re romantically involved not once or twice or thrice but now, four times. Regardless of how you looked at it, that reeked of desperation. You were in that weird period in your life where it felt as if everyone around you was in a relationship, so maybe that mood translated to you. 

That’s right, you settled. That’s what was possibly behind these thoughts of yours. You found Matthew attractive – and what? So did plenty of other people. You saw him surrounded by girls after practice, after matches, while out. What you felt was nothing special. It felt easier to think of it that way, even if for a few hours to truly enjoy the party without having that lurking at the back of your mind. 

You mingled easily, danced with Anna, danced with other players’ girlfriends and wives, danced with your brother, even attempted a few traditional Russian dances taught by Nikita, Artyom and a few of their friends, that left you breathless by their rapid pace and intricate footwork. 

“I’m done!” you declared, breathless and almost swaying on your feet when another Russian folk song came to an end but thankfully, you managed to hold steady before you could catch a ride on the hot mess express. “Absolutely wasted. Knocked out.” You stepped away, tired but euphoric and dropped rather unceremoniously on one of the available couches pushed against a wall. 

“Having fun?” Matthew asked and there was a light flush on his cheeks you knew wasn’t from dancing. There was even just a slight slur to his speech.

“The most,” you replied, breathless, and accepted the drink he held out to you. You took a sip without questioning him what was in the glass, only to find out for yourself he was settling for harder stuff tonight. “But never let it be said that anyone can keep up with Russians because let me tell you,” you whistled quietly, “we’re a couple of steps behind. Plenty of steps behind, actually.” 

Matthew flashed a lazy smile and you briefly spared a moment to envy him for how kept together he remained despite being evidently buzzed. “’s okay. At least we’re the better dressed ones so we lose in style.” 

You took another sip from his glass, holding it out to him with a smirk. “Tell me about it, stud,” you said in what you hoped was a low, alluring tone of voice but no sooner did you think that, and you were reduced to embarrassed laughter. “Forget about that! Forget it, forget it! Where’s the delete button?” 

“I didn’t come equipped with that,” he declared proudly, finishing off what was left of his drink. “C’mere, you can show me a couple of those steps you learned.” 

He stood, a little unsteadily initially then held a hand to you. You knew he wouldn’t have the strength to pull you up properly, so you stood easily fully intent to actually lead him through some of the steps. Except, Matthew was definitely swaying more than you thought he would. There was something inexplicably amusing about the situation and instead of directing him towards the center of the room, you steered him away from it and towards a small bathroom you were shown to earlier that night when you needed some time to re-touch your makeup. 

“Where’re we going?” he asked curiously, looking over his shoulder towards the living room with a look that could only be read as longing. 

“To cool down a little and then you can learn as many folk dances as you want. Believe me, you need to be alert for them. Can’t miss a step,” you advised, trying to steady him by wrapping an arm around him though the difference in weight between the two of you couldn’t compare. Still, you managed to get him into the bathroom safely without either of you making a mess of yourselves or the room. 

“Are you gonna cool down too?” he questioned. 

“Sure thing, definitely need it.” 

“Good, we’ll cool down together.” With that, he made a move to open the glass partition for the shower cubicle but thankfully, you were significantly more alert than he was and managed to prevent him from doing anything more than that.

“Not that sort of cool down. Here, sit here,” you encouraged, lowering the lid on the toilet so Matthew could drop down. You doubted you’d be able to hold much of his strength above the sink if you were to help him splash some cold water on his face.

“But I want that sort of cool down,” he slurred. “With you. Us two. You said you want to cool down too. Could be a couple activity.” He grinned, as if proud of himself. 

Thankfully, Matthew was buzzed enough to miss the flush on your face, the slight shake of your hand as you arranged a towel around his neck to prevent too much overspill before turning the tap on. 

“Can’t do that, Matthew. Here, this will be much better, I promise.” 

“Wanna try though,” he mumbled but was still compliant as you pressed a wet, cool palm against his forehead, then either of his cheeks. “Not cool enough.” His complaint was accompanied by a frown which only morphed into a lazy smirk when he leaned back, trying to pull you with him. “C’mon, Y/N. It’s a couple’s Halloween night.” 

“Matthew, we’re not a couple,” you said gently, pushing your palms against his shoulders in an attempt to free yourself from his hold. Before it was too late. Before you allowed yourself to get drawn into a drunk man’s ramblings. 

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.” 

You put all your strength into breaking away from his hold and thankfully, managed to do so. Your heart was hammering in your chest as if desperately trying to release itself from the cage of your ribs. 

“Matthew, you’re drunk. Here, splash some cold water on your face so you can come back to your senses.” 

“But I’m not drunk,” he insisted and as if to demonstrate, he stood up quickly. He swayed on the spot, stretching out his arms a little and once he found his footing, he looked towards you with an expression that mixed pride with hopefulness. “See? Definitely okay—”

You frowned, feeling a little caged in. You should’ve left the door open at least. “Okay, then let’s go back out there, yeah? I can get an Uber and I’ll take you home if you prefer that?” 

“Yes,” he said, then leaned back against the door. “Only if you come with me.” 

You exhaled, suddenly tired as if the exchange was working every ounce of energy out of you. “I’ll come to make sure you’re okay and can make it to your bed okay.”

“I can though. I can definitely make it there even on my own and you know why? Because I’m not drunk,” Matthew insisted and when you shot him a look of disbelief, he peeled himself away from the door. “Look, look I can prove it to you I’m not drunk.” 

Before you could even ask him to walk a straight line without stumbling his steps, Matthew’s arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand pressed on the back of your head, bringing you closer until your lips met. Kissing Matthew was like everything you imagined and more. He even did that with the same passion with which he skated on ice, chasing puck after puck. It left you breathless how well he worked his lips against your own as if all along, he knew how to do that in such way that it’d leave your legs feeling like jelly. Beyond that though, it felt comfortable. Not forceful despite him having not asked if he could do it in the first place, yet it still felt right. You tasted sweetness on his mouth and the sharp tang of whiskey. Vaguely, you knew nothing else could compare. It was that thought that made you push away from him with as much force as you could muster, ducking under his arm and towards the door. 

“I’ll ask someone to take you home,” you said without even looking his way before leaving dashing out of the bathroom.

“You okay?” Anna asked you when you ran into her. Quite literally. 

“Uh—yeah. No, actually. I think I feel a bit unwell so I’m going to head home, okay?” 

You made a move to leave but her arm stopped you. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Above her shoulder, you saw Matthew emerge from the bathroom, a little dazzled, eyes searching the room. Before he could even spot you, you quickly freed yourself from her hold and nodded. “Will be. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t rush back, okay? Tell Alex I said thanks for the invite.” 

You didn’t stumble a step in your heels as you jogged towards the door, making a swift exit before you attracted even more attention.

+ one.

Matthew left no calls and no messages, but that was fine. You didn’t spend time trying to build your expectations of anything like that happening because drunk words weren’t always sober thoughts. The event was just something you had to deal with and if you had to do it alone, then so be it. Reasonably speaking, you and Matthew went from nothing to friends and if you caught feelings along the way, then that was your mistake for letting yourself slip like that. You were left broken hearted once, you really didn’t want to go through that again especially over someone that wasn’t even really and truly yours to begin with.

So, the next morning, you woke up at a reasonably early hour despite the late night but felt energized enough to sweep through your apartment and collect the garments you tossed carelessly on your way to bed after arriving at home. You said a heartfelt goodbye to Sandy, apologizing that in this scenario, her and Danny didn’t end up driving off in a red convertible. After that, you showered and changed in a fresh set of clothes even if the day would most likely be spent indoors. It was a fitting conclusion to the Halloween weekend, and you could do with some downtime, really.

Anna must’ve stayed with Johnny because regardless of how much noise you made, she didn’t emerge from the room and after fixing a quick breakfast and brewing coffee to continued silence, you knew you were right. It didn’t bother you. You’d make full use of the couch and stretch out on it properly as you flicked through your Netflix account and for the sake of sticking to weekend morning traditions, you selected a lighthearted sitcom. You were halfway through the third episode when your doorbell rang. You could’ve sworn Anna had a spare key of her own unless she misplaced it or forgot it home. Not entirely out of question.

Except, it wasn’t Anna who greeted you when you opened the door.

“Oh.” You coughed lightly, crossing your arms then unfolding them, then leaning one against the doorway before dropping it to your side. “Hey—uh. Hey Tkachuk, isn’t it a bit early for you to be out and about? You were smashed the last time I saw you.” 

Matthew looked over your shoulder into the apartment, as if checking to see if you were alone. “Can I come in?” 

Defeated, you stepped to the side and cleared the way for him to step inside before pushing the door closed. Part of you wished you’d dressed up as if you were ready to head off somewhere. You weren’t quite ready nor willing to face whatever music Matthew had in mind for you. 

In the aftermath of the party, out of the flashiness of the costume, Matthew seemed to be perfectly clear-headed despite the state you’d left him in. The curls atop his head seemed soft despite the natural frizz and as he passed by, you caught a whiff of sharp cologne and fresh bodywash. 

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?” 

“No?”

“Kind of sounds like it, though?” You laughed quietly, trying to lighten the mood. It was bad enough the weather outside was gloomy, autumn settling in full force. Now, you had to deal with a Matthew who looked as if he wasn’t sure he came to the right place. “Coffee?” you asked, already leading the way towards the kitchen. You heard him follow behind you just moments later. While you poured a full cup for him, he hovered by the table, making you frown at him. “What’s wrong with you? You need an invite to sit down and relax? Seriously, Matthew, you look like you should be in bed.” 

“You left last night without saying anything,” he said instead. 

“Uh—yeah. I was kind of tired and I wanted it to call it a night early so—”

“Was it because of what I said or what I did?” 

You almost dropped the coffee cup, but fortunately only startled enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim and down the back of your hand, causing you to hiss in pain. You cursed quietly and, in an instant, Matthew crossed over the room and took the cup from you, setting it down on the table before leading you towards the sink. As if used to this, he placed your hand under ice cold water and once the sharp pain numbed, you pushed his hand away, taking a step to the side in an attempt to put more distance between you. 

“It’s fine, I’ve got this,” you mumbled, holding your hand still under the jet for a few more seconds before closing it.

It was hardly worth the fuss, but it gave you a reason to make yourself busy with something other than freaking out. It couldn’t be that he remembered anything. It couldn’t be that he was standing in your kitchen, thinking that it was a good idea to just open up that subject when you were so ready to take a shovel to it and bury it six feet under. 

“Didn’t you get tired of it at all?” he tried again.

“Tired of what?”

“Of pretending. Of only acting like we’re together for one reason or the other—”

“Matthew, I asked you only once and you know why. I apologized then but if it helps you sleep better at night, I’ll apologize again for dragging you into my mess. I don’t know what the point is of this discussion—”

“The point,” he said, raising his voice but only to cut through your speech. “The point is that I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having to be by your side and pretend. It got to a stage where I don’t even know what’s real and what isn’t, and I feel as if the only time I’ll know that for sure will be when you find someone, so you no longer need to turn to me to pretend.” 

“Matthew, I’m not using you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re coming at me with this out of the blue and I don’t even understand what this is all about,” you argued, waving a hand between the two of you. 

Matthew clenched his jaw. You watched as he flexed it and his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you need me to spell it out for you again? I thought I was pretty straightforward about what I want last night.” 

“You were drunk last night, is what you were. You could hardly put a foot in front of the other.” 

“You know that’s not true,” he retorts, lifting his arms then dropping them back down to his sides. “I was sober enough to know damn well what I said and why I said it. If you want to keep pretending even now, even at this point, then you go ahead and do that but let me be clear with you again and you take what you want from it: I don’t want to pretend with you anymore. I want to be with you. You want to know what that feels like? It feels a lot like being so close to something you want, literally having that thing dangled right in front of you only to have it snatched just when you think it’s yours. Me kissing you last night? I’m sorry I forced it on you, I could’ve gone about doing it differently but I’m not sorry for what I feel. That was all me and not the alcohol. So, you take this and do what you want with it.”

You stared at him, disbelieving your ears. It wouldn’t surprise you if that was the case: you did wake up surprisingly refreshed even after an emotionally charged night, so for all you knew, you could be dreaming this. 

“Matthew, what are you—That’s, you’re kidding me with this right? You can’t. You can’t possibly think that.” 

“And why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. Are you even hearing yourself talk?” 

“Why doesn’t it make sense? Want me to go about it differently? If you let me pull your hair, I’ll let you push me in the sandbox.” 

You were suffering from a strange, ill-timed case of déjà vu. Part of you wanted to laugh at the situation but the bigger part of you triumphed, thankfully. You released a breath you had been holding, bringing both hands up to cover your face, taking some moments to yourself. Or perhaps, you’d lost track of time because eventually, you heard Matthew sigh and felt his fingers wrap around each wrist though he didn’t put pressure to tug your hands down from your face.

“Sorry. I’m just—I’m not doing this the right way. I don’t want it to seem like I’m forcing my feelings on you and that you should accept them. If I misread us—you at any point, then fine. Just, we can drop it here and I’ll deal with it but—”

You shook your head slowly. “No, I just need a moment. Sorry. You really caught me by surprise. I didn’t… I thought everything you said last night…what you did… I thought that was just, well, just the alcohol. So, I did the best thing I knew to do and, uh, left.”

“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” he reminded you quietly and this time, you dropped your hands away from your face so you could look up at him. 

He was so handsome. Ridiculously handsome in his casual clothes. Briefly, you thought back to the time you first found safety in his arms and wondered if maybe… Well, why not. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him, fingers clinging to the thick material of his hoodie while you faceplanted against his chest and breathed him in.

You liked Matthew. You liked Matthew so much that the admission overwhelmed you so much that you squeezed him to you, trying desperately to bring him closer. The gesture seemed to prompt him into action, and he returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then to the base of your throat once he’d lowered his head there. 

“Me too. I want to be with you too. Really be with you. No more of this pretend stuff,” you told him, your voice muffled against his body, but you knew he caught every word.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “We won Noah’s competition last night.”

“Bet he did it because of your long face,” you commented, unable to help yourself. “What did we win?” 

Matthew made a move to step back, but you clung to him, much to your embarrassment. It seemed as if your body acted out of sync with your mind, but who could blame it when Matthew stood right there, right before you. Turned out he only took a step back to lift you off your feet and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, arms resting loosely around his neck. You leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to his mouth as he stumbled away from the kitchen while you stole another kiss. And then, just because you could, a third. 

“A voucher to a seafood restaurant,” he informed you, breaking into a laugh when you groaned, throwing your head back in sheer frustration even if you had a strong feeling he was only messing with you.

“Remind me to never put so much effort if that’s what the stake are.” 

“Noted. Next time, I’ll tell you we could just stay home for Halloween and play by our rules. Outfits optional. Probably not recommended.” 

“That’s…really not what I said.” 

“I’m reading between the lines. See? We know each other so well.” 

You laughed as he carried you all the way into your room without even as much as breaking a sweat. That was definitely some food for thought at a later point.

[actualbird]

okay i could have sworn i saw it on your blog (or maybe it was a wishful fever dream?) but i really thought you said that in your pool of fic ideas you had a ;; marius fic where he has like a competence thing?? or maybe feels incompetent compared to the other nxx members?? and whether thats in your idea pool or not;; i would . love to see either idea . BUT ALSO take care of yourself you write so much so consistently;; which is Wow (positive)

hello!!! okay so i must preface this with the fact i am SO FORGETFUL omg. when i read this i was like ".....i have no memory of this idea" so i dug thru my blog and found 2 things i THINK you might be pertaining to?

theres this short answer i wrote from a few days ago talking about how marius finds competence on the other nxx team members INCREDIBLY HOT. and then theres my analysis on marius von hagen being scared that he'll always be in his older brother's (giann) shadow (which isnt Really competence/incompetence but it's Very Related, imo)

THAT BEING SAID, THANK U FOR THIS ASK (and also ur kind words, yes i will take care of myself, hehe) BC I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO TALK MORE ABOUT----

character analysis: marius von hagen's inferiority complex + youngest child syndrome = dude...r u ok...

wc: 1.4k

SPOILERS AHEAD for Marius SSR Fabulous Feast!!!! and general warning for other marius related spoilers but i cant remember if i got that from global server content or cn server, sorry skdjfbsk. obligatory disclaimer that these r just my own thoughts and interpretations

an inferiority complex is, at its simplest, the prolonged/constant state of feeling inadequate in comparison to other people. i posit that marius has got one hell of an inferiority complex because of him being the youngest von hagen kid.

being the youngest child in a family has the tendency or possibility to create an attention-seeker. attention-seeking behavior happens because a youngest child is not alone, their sibling/s came first. the older ones got the love and praise and time before they could get any of it. now that the youngest is here, thats another kid the family has to pay attention to, and the youngest will do a lot of things to get that attention (because theyre "secondary", the family already had other kids, so theyre used to the song and dance of raising kids, yeah? youngest has gotta work more to make themself stand out). theyll play the agreeable charmer to get positive attention from the family. (keyword: positive. because negative attention...i'll get to that later)

but why is the youngest working so hard to get attention? surely, they must know that attention will come to them naturally, yes? well, when youre a "secondary" member, when you come to see yourself as a footnote to another person, attention from others seems harder to just get naturally. the youngest is not alone, there are others now, and where there are others, there will always, always be somebody "better"

(sidenote: it's pretty obvious that marius is an attention-seeker, yea? i dont have to prove that, right? because uh. just go thru any card story of his kJBKSJDF. //whiny marius voice. JIEJIIEEEEEE🥺🥺🥺)

anyway, the seeds of inferiority are present already, theyre getting sown into the ground of the mind as early as childhood. the notions of second best and stuck in another person's shadow can already begin to take root (and heres a previous analysis about marius being in giann's shadow. wait i already linked it up there. BUT I ALREADY LINKED IT HERE im too lazy to undo it, have it again)

the von hagen family is pretty small tho, when marius is brought into the world. mom von hagen died very quickly after marius was born which only left dad austin and older brother giann. i dont think austin or giann did anything outright to make marius feel inferior, the family seems to be a kind one to each other and marius has mentioned he loves his family a LOT but like, even if u dont mean to make somebody feel inferior, it might just happen for a lot of reasons anyway.

one huge thing that hammers the inferiority complex further into marius' mind is how people OUTSIDE the von hagen family see him, especially when marius takes on the mantle as CEO of PAX. marius is saddled with a whole lot of responsibility and duties and work and that in itself is hard enough but then oopsie daisy, the attention-seeking personality is now hit with its worst nightmare.

aka he gets attention but in the Most Negative Ways. hello negative attention!!

marius doesnt even have to lift a finger to get bombarded by people thinking hes doing a shitass job at running the company. people think him a brat who doesnt know what hes doing. in some instances, marius is compared to his father or older brother. marius is pit against them and hes the loser, the weakest link in the von hagen family, the kid whos out of his depth.

in SSR Fabulous Feast, we get to see Mr. Darby act as a microcosm of people who are against marius for this reason. mc witnesses Darby shittalk marius behind his back (and mc was SO CLOSE to marching over there and throwing her cards at him, god bless her heart).

it's marius though who explains Darby's behavior to mc. Darby was apparently an okay dude back when giann was in charge, but when marius came in, thats when Darby changed. marius then says:

granted, after mc is like UR NOT INFERIOR, dont compare urself to others!! (again, bless her heart, i lov her sm). marius then goes on to say "no no. i AM inferior to giann but also thats okay because i have my own special way to solve problems" and then for the rest of the story he goes on to solve the problem just like he said thru an unconventional yet incredibly effective way

(sidenote: it's fascinating to me that marius' way to solve the problem in Fabulous Feast (and other problems, like that journalist in main story 5.3) is to use Performance and Spectacle as a method, then as threat, then as a cage. in main story 5.3, marius gets the information from that journalist by first acting dumb (performance as method) and then once the jig is up marius goes on to say how this will be a bad scandal for journalist (spectacle as threat) and THEN goes on to trap journalist into folding bc of prev points (performance and spectacle as cage). same in Fabulous Feast, Darby is brought into marius' performance, the spectacle of his "donation" is used as a threat, and then the performance and spectacle traps Darby into doing what marius wants. this is....a WHOLE OTHER ANALYSIS ACTUALLY ABOUT how marius has lived his life with performance and spectacle as his own shackles and thus knows how to weaponize it. BUT IM GETTING OFF TOPIC. LEMME GO BACK)

RECAP: marius is the youngest -> being the youngest lays the bedrock of inferiority -> the inferiority is further cemented by outsiders -> ....now what?

well im going to loop back to ur actual ask, HAHA.

u said "[marius] maybe feels incompetent compared to the other nxx members..." and personally i think this is VERY POSSIBLE YES. because hes in another group. and as he slowly grows to trust them all, i see the nxx team turning into a found family, thus another family where he is STILL THE YOUNGEST.

yeah he works his ass off just as much as everybody else in the team, but the fear is hard to shake, yknow? marius will hide it behind smirks and jokes and slightly asshole-y vibes, but deep down hes scared he isnt good enough for them, like how he isnt good enough for so many people in the ENTIRE WORLD. when the team start giving him positive attention (something he thinks he has to earn by being the charmer and whatever the hell else they want him to be) a new fear can surface:

...when will they see hes nothing but a whiny brat trying too hard for scraps of love?

......when will they stop giving him positive attention because of this?

marius feels incompetent not because he actually is incompetent in reality. he plays an important part in the team, just like everybody else. marius feels incompetent within the team because the patterns and experiences of his life has calibrated him to think himself inferior.

if i were to write a fic exploring all of this (and i use the word "if" because my gdrive folder for tot fic wips is...IT'S A LOT....) i would write a fic where the team is kinda just like..."hey is marius okay because lately the media has been particularly ruthless towards him, unprovoked"

and marius waves away whoever asks him and hes like "im fine, but awwww, youre worried about me, thats so sweet!!! you like me more than you let on, eh ;)" and then after luke or vyn or artem or mc rolls their eyes at his antics hes like "[internally] good theyll NEVER KNOW that im actually getting hugely worn down by the current media shitstorm and that their worry means so much to me but if i let them help theyll see me as the incompetent brat i am and they can NEVER SEE ME LIKE THAT OR ELSE I WILL WITHER AND DIE"

and like the team obviously see hes upset and they try to help. every instance of help hammering more and more fear into marius. the more help he needs, the more "useless" marius becomes

and it's a whole mess but eventually the team and marius come together and like, FRIGGING TALK HONESTLY ABOUT FEELINGS and then nxx fluff time of emotional healing

THIS ANSWER NEEDS TO END NOW IT'S TOO LONG KSFDSJ. I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE!!

[pinkteapotwriting]

Happy Birthday Remus part 2

Part one Happy Birthday Remus!

Warning : Smut, this is just smut. Minors DNI, Switch!Sirius x Dom!Remus x Sub!Reader

Edging, slight over stimulation kinda idk, oral, food mention and I think that’s all of it

Wolfstar x Fem!reader

Summary : Sirius is mad about the little stunt Remus had you pull the day prior, so he breaks Remus’s rules and plays with you how he sees fit. 

Word count :1826

---

You awoke to the sun gently sweeping across your face as you separate yourself from Sirius’s chest. The only thing that could be brighter than that hazy yellow pouring in is the smile you gave while looking at Remus spooning Sirius. His arms wrapped around him tight, like the only security blanket left in the world. Not wanting to interrupt the sweet sight you got up to go get ready by yourself. 

Your legs were quite tender from the night before, not that you were complaining. You made your way to the bathroom to start your routine, but when you stepped over the edge of the tub to take a shower your sore legs betrayed you. With a not too painful, but still solid plop you hit the floor landing on your bum. 

“Ow.”

“Y/N?” A voice resounded in concern.

The sound of rushed pattering made its way to the bathroom. 

“Y/N! Love are you alright?” This time you could tell it was Sirius who asked.

Giggling the whole time you responded, “I’m okay I promise! My legs are just sore from last night.” 

Sirius gave a huff as a reply and simply walked past to fill the tub as an alternative for your certain destruction, while Remus scratched the back of his head and mumbled his apologies before retreating briefly.

Sirius pulled you from the floor and set himself in the tub with you nestled in front of him. You tilted your head back against his shoulder in absolute bliss as he rubbed his hands up and down your thigh.

“Y/N love?”

“Yes darling?”

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know you enjoy being submissive, but last night taught me not to take advantage of that. Please remember to let me know if I’m pushing your limits.”

“Baby, we have a safe word for a reason! I love you so so much and appreciate you checking in. I promise to let you know if you ever make me uncomfortable. There’s no hard feelings and to be quite honest I definitely prefer when you boys dominate me.”

You shivered as one of his hands wrapped around your waist while the other enclosed around your throat pulling your ear to his hypnotic lips. 

“Well that’s good to hear, cause I’d be remiss if I didn’t get to leave you absolutely decimated tonight after your little show yesterday.”

The twang of pleasure that shot straight to your core only increased when the hand that rested on your waist found its way to your clit. 

“Yeah, yesterday you talked a big game, but it looks like you’re already dripping for me puppy.”

You whined softly, but were quickly muted when Sirius’s hand engulfed the lower half of your face. He knew Remus’s rules quite well and touching what belonged to him without permission would certainly get him in trouble. However, the prospect of teasing you all day, toying with Remus’s precious puppy under his nose was thrilling. In short he loved making you squirm. So he wasn’t about to let you ruin his fun so soon.

“None of that now, Moony would hear and ruin our fun for touching you without permission. If you want to cum at all today you’ll be a good puppy and keep your mouth shut and obey. Are we understood?”

You nodded weakly already so close to your release. 

“Aw baby your legs are shaking bet you’re close huh, does my pretty girl wanna cum?”

You let out a muffled yes against his hand and he just chuckled. “Too bad I can hear Remmy coming up the stairs, maybe another time. Remember to be a good puppy.”

Before you even got the chance to pout Sirius released his grip and went back to rubbing your thighs while Remus entered holding a tray with three cups of tea and three plates of leftover chocolate cake. 

“Sorry love, I just thought it would be nice if we had breakfast in the bath.”

“Good thinking Rem, less moving around for her that way. What do you say sweetheart?”

You did your best to hide your guilt and smiled sweetly at the man you adored. 

“Thank you Remmy.”

He just smiled back at you and disrobed so he could join you all in the bath. Sirius didn’t dare make a move while Remus was there and he was much better at hiding the previous occurrence. You couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable since last night wasn’t exactly gentle and Sirius made sure you were extra sensitive to any touch. You were puddy in his hands, perfectly malleable and so in your tired bleary mind state you only craved to do what was asked of you. Despite it being a conflict of interest between obeying Remus, and obeying Sirius. 

(Remus is clearly the big boss around here, anyway) 

---

Luckily it was a Sunday so you had nowhere else to be, but it was also just as unfortunate considering Sirius would be able to keep you in his clutches. Every time Remus left the room he had his hands on you. Sirius made sure you were adorned in his biggest t-shirt (your usual lounge wear) so he could have easy access without arousing suspicion. His hands always found the most delicate places while his mouth wreaked havoc on your even more so delicate mind. 

“Be quiet sweetheart, don’t want Remus to find out you’re not his good girl, his obedient little puppy.”

“Bet you’re just desperate to cum, I can’t even keep count of how many times I’ve edged you today.”

“Beg and maybe I’ll be generous, come on pup beg for it”

Of course it didn’t matter how many times you would cry out, only for it to be muffled by his hand. He was not planning on giving you what you so desperately needed anytime soon. Sirius loved the sounds he’d pull from you. He was just such a glutton for your punishment. The prospect of breaking Remus’s rules thrilled him, that he was touching what didn’t belong to him. He knew he was risking punishment, but the feeling of you clenching desperately around his fingers only spurred him on.

Meanwhile Remus was confused by your jumpiness and reaction to touch. You had never been like this the day after. Usually all you wanted was to be held and take it easy, but you basically rejected his touch and he was so afraid that he pushed your boundaries too far last night. Poor Remus wasn’t aware of that tight coil in your stomach that Sirius had created, that made any lingering touch almost put you in overload.

You were all settled on the couch and little to his knowledge under the blanket you had covering your lap Sirius was slipping his cock between your wet folds. Course you knew your only job was to sit still and keep him warm, but that didn’t make it any more uncomfortable. You had been denied orgasm time and time again with just his fingers and now his dick was buried deep inside you and you weren’t allowed to move. It was infuriating. 

“Y/N, love? Can you come and cuddle me now please? I’m getting cold over here.”

Sirius’s grip tightened on your waist as a low warning, so you were forced to hang your head and shake your head no.

“Sweetheart did I do something to hurt you last night. Please I feel like you’ve been off all day. If I caused you pain in any way I’ll never forgive myself. What can I do to make it up to you.”

In a rush you got up and straddled Remus’s thigh. You just couldn’t take it anymore and started clutching his shirt and nuzzling your tear filled face side to side against his chest.

“Puppy what’s wrong, what did I do?”

You only shook your head and started rutting against his thigh. Your body acting of its own volition answering for you. 

“Darling hey hey hey slow down what’s going on.” He glanced down and his eyebrows raised at the sight. You were absolutely soaking and he had the new wet patch on his pants to prove it. 

“Daddy I need to cum so bad it hurts.”

He then made eye contact with a very guilty looking Sirius, then decided your needs were much more important than whatever Sirius had to say, he’d deal with him later. 

“What’s wrong precious, what happened pretty girl”

“Siri-” you choked out a sob, “Siri told me he wouldn’t let me cum and he said I wasn’t your good girl and- and daddy it hurts in my belly I need to cum so bad.”

“Oh Y/N you’re always my good girl, my precious pup. Do you want Daddy to make you feel all better? Siri is just a meanie come on let’s go to the bedroom.”

---

Remus had you sprawled out on the bed, making sure your head was supported by Sirius’s lap. His head was between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. Your incessant mewls and whines broke his concentration.

“Come on what do you want love Daddy can fix it for you. Do you want Daddy’s cock?”

You managed a pitiful nod and soon enough your wish was granted. 

Remus kept a steady pace as your fingernails clawed into Sirius’s legs. He could tell by your trembling you were so close.

“Fuck Y/N” Sirius groaned, “I’m sorry baby I didn’t mean to make you wait so long, but you look so pretty fucked out like that. You’re such a good girl waiting so patiently”

“That’s right puppy, you’re such a good girl taking my cock so well, come on love cum for me.”

As the sweet relief of your climax finally being within reach you sobbed in ecstasy. Your orgasm left you breathless as  the immense pleasure could rival a tidal wave crashing over you. Remus would normally chase his own high, but you had been overstimulated enough so instead he pulled out and stroked his length while eyeing Sirius angrily. Sirius gulped.

Even in your exhausted state you still could use the manners they trained you to have. 

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Of course good girls always get to come. Not selfish gits who break my rules though. Tell me pup, how many times did Siri edge you today?”

“I- I lost count, Remmy.”

A wicked grin covered his face, but his fiery gaze remained unyielding.

“That’ll be a good start then, okay pretty girl can you grab the bonds for me? It seems our naughty boy didn’t learn his lesson yesterday.”

How lucky were you, to be taken care of in so many different ways by the two men you adored above all else.

“Yes Daddy”

Before you did what you were told you couldn’t help but relish in the fear and anticipation on Sirius’s face. Wondering, and craving for what would happen next…

---

@thotbutpurple @quindolyn

[witch-hazels-musings]

Can I request how Lisa and Sucrose would react to there long time female friend confessing romantic feelings for them? and maybe like first date ideas?

i’ve always loved you 

Warning -> SFW, fluff (kissing) 

Character X FM Reader | Anthology 

Includes:  Sucrose, Lisa

Sucrose

She’s so shocked! She honestly wonders if she really understood you? What you just said to her cannot be accurate, right? 

“Sucrose … I like you.” You state, your eyes moving from her and down to the thumb you’ve been clenching in your fist for a while now. 

“ ...w-what? Oh, you mean l-like as a friend? Well, I am quite fond of you too.” She’s clearly flustered and since she either didn’t seem to get your first confession, or was playing it off as a joke, you try again. 

“Not like that, I have feelings for you.” Reaching out to her arm you hope the connection will make the confession more clear. The color of her cheeks turn bright pink as she comes to realize what you meant, and the reaction that follows is so adorable you think you’ll die. 

The bottle in her hands slips from her grasp as she exclaims and pulls her hands to cover her mouth. The crashing bottle splatters around your feet while she takes a second to register all of these things happening at once.

“Ah! I’m s-so sorry … let me g-get something to clean it up … with …” She turns around and grabs a nearby towel but you’ve already started on the mess by the time she returns. “N-no let me get that, it was m-my mess.” Her hand extends toward the glass but you capture her fingers before they can reach. Elegantly, you pull them to your lips and give them a quick peck before letting her take control of them again. 

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” 

She’s so flustered, how is it that someone like you can like someone as unprepared for love as her - she just cannot understand 

Her heart is pounding so hard in her chest, her mind is going a mile a minute and all she can think about how incredible you look in front of her 

She wants to reach out and touch you, but her hand is still so hot from where you kissed 

You finish cleaning up the rest of the glass before dumping it into the garbage bin. Looking down, Sucrose hasn’t moved from her crouched position and you hope your confession didn’t totally ruin the relationship you had with her. 

“Listen, I know that was sudden. I just … I don’t know,” You rub the back of your arm and squeeze the skin there. “I have liked you for so long and I really wanted to tell you … anyway if you don’t feel the same or whatever you …” “NO!” She shoots up and catches you off-guard. 

“Oh … okay…”

“Oh no, I mean … I’m sorry, I like you ... “ Clasping her fingers together and pressing them against to her legs, she avoids your gaze but bravely continues, “more than a f-friend. I like you, too.” 

Archons, she’s so cute? You can’t hold back anymore and with emboldened confidence you lean forward and press your lips against her hot cheek. She practically explodes, a huge gust of wind erupts from her and knocks several more things off the counter, papers scatter, containers shift, and unconfined specimens are lost on the wind. 

“Ah … I’m sorry.” She covers her face and you respond with giddy laughter. 

“Cute.”

You love to watch her get excited and to know she likes you back? Well, you are just over the moon 

Your first date idea is something you know she will enjoy. You want to make sure she is comfortable and so the first thing that comes to your mind is taking her on a little adventure  - somewhere she can explore, someplace to study or conduct research - if she smiles that’s all that matters to you

“Look at this!! I’ve only ever seen this species in books. I wonder if the season and weather have an impact on it’s growth cycle.” She bent close to the plant, her fingers cupping ever so gently underneath it as not to disturb its existence. She was always so generous, be it people, animals, or plants she was the kindest person you had ever met. 

“You look like you were meant to be here.” You express, taking up space at her side. 

“Really? I just really love to unearth secrets. When I finally get the answer to a question that’s been on my mind, I feel exhilarated by the accomplishment. Perhaps, I should ... adjust my excitement?” 

“I will never hold you back in your love for research, that’s why I choose this location for our date.” 

“Ah! Yes, this is a d-date. You’re right, what should … what do we do on dates?” 

“We are doing it right now.”

“Are we …?” 

“Yes, are you having fun?” You asked, tracking her gaze with the movement of your head, your question light but important. 

“Yes!” 

“Then perfect, the date is going well.” Her face shifts hues and for the thousandth time today, the word cute runs through your mind. 

Lisa

She already knows - she’s known for such a long time and is honestly impressed that you had the guts to finally tell her your true feelings 

Lisa is wildly observant, she has to be in order to stop people from slipping one too many books into their bags without following the rules of the library. So, she’s clearly picked up the different ways you act between her and some of the other people you commonly interact with 

She especially can spot the discrepancies between her, Kaeya, and Jean. When you talk to Kaeya, his flirtatious, forward jokes fall to the ground without any reaction - you might play back, if you’re feeling cheeky, but your face never shifts 

When you talk to Jean and she leans in close to you, you act as if it’s anyone on the planet, a twig will make you react more than she does - but when you are around her? You become a stuttery, fidgety mess, and if she ever makes a more pointed joke - ;) - you practically shut down 

You find her standing in front of row after row of books, her arm extended above her as she reaches to place a returned book back onto the shelf. She’s so elegant, and when she is in her element she’s the most stunning thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. You didn’t know that someone could have such an impact on you. 

“Lisa?” You call out to her, respectful of the rules of the library. She turns and already your heart is racing. “Do you have a second?” 

“For you my dear, I have all the time in the world.” She holds the remaining books against her chest, and, even though she’s wearing her hat, you are still transfixed by the face that’s partially hidden. 

“I wanted to tell you this for a long time … is it okay if we talk here or…?” She chuckles, placing the books on one of the tables and walking toward you. The smell of dark roses pressing against your nose as she enters your space. 

“Here is perfect, cutie. What do you want to share with me, hmm?” She’s a bit taller than you so when you find yourself looking at her face it’s almost always drawn to her lips. 

“I’m sure … well, no .. I mean I know that you’re … ah how do I …” 

“Take your time.” She reaches for your hair and the closeness of her wrist to your face breaks you. 

“I like you!” You practically shout, covering your mouth in your hands at the realization of your outburst. Slipping your head further behind your fingers you hide your embarrassment from her. 

Instead of scolding you, or reminding you to be quiet, she laughs and the sound is so lovely it pulls you from your hiding place. 

“I was wondering when you were finally going to tell me your little secret.” 

“You mean, you knew?” 

“Of course I knew, I’m very observant and I can’t keep my eyes off of something so adorable, now can I?” She laughs again, her fingers sliding along your jaw and toward your chin. There she lifts your head and moves in for the kill. Her lips connect with yours and it’s electric, you wonder if she somehow sent a shock of her vision through the contact. As she pulls away, her smile is so grand you close your eyes again. 

She is honored to have your affection, and she will absolutely lord that over everyone - she has the most prized book in all the collection, if you let her explain her admiration for you - hopefully, you can handle her 

Now that she has chosen you, you want to show her experiences that will always remind her that she made the best choice. You’ve taken her to libraries and bookstores that are hidden from most people's eyes. You’ve gone on adventures to explore ancient domains and ruins in search for historic knowledge, you even traveled to Liyue to meet the ever knowledgeable consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. You were greeted with warm tea and unending information.  

Now, you’ve brought her to the vast fields which surround Mondstadt, the two of you nestled under the stars each keeping the other warm. She feels so good resting against you, her back pressing firmly into your chest as she relaxes under the night sky. You can push your face into her hair and tighten your grip around her as you relish the notion that she is yours and you are hers. 

She’s shared with you her knowledge of the stars, the things she’s read in books and how impactful they are. Lisa has pointed out all the constellations to you and you’re sure that no matter how many times she shares this information you’ll never tire of hearing her voice. 

“Oh look, a shooting star. It’s customary to make a wish, so I’m told.” She presses further against you and practically squeezes out your words. 

“I don’t know what I could possibly wish for other than you.” She turns and looks into your eyes and you kiss her passionately as if hers are the only lips you will ever taste again.

[tenthgrove]

Apologies if this is a little in depth/perhaps a bit of a big scenario (or too angsty? I do intend it to be hurt/comfort though!): La Squadra [individual] with a civilian s/o that, through some way or another, ends up getting targeted due to their connection with their partner and is kidnapped and tortured for information regardless of the fact they know very little about their partner’s hitman career/is simply aware of their partner being in passione and not much else. Of course, whomever they’re dating manages to save them, but S/O is absolutely traumatized from the encounter to the point where they’re barely like their former self, are terrified to be left alone for too long, and need near constant reassurance that they’re going to be okay?

Recovery

La Squadra x Reader, Romantic, SFW

Content Warnings: PTSD, Depression, General Trauma Reactions

Formaggio- He was always so laid back about everything. He had you both convinced that nothing bad could ever come of your relationship, even if he was a hardened criminal and you weren't. Is it possible that, if he had urged you to protect yourself more, this never would have happened? Seeing you so traumatised completely breaks his heart. The way you no longer react to his corny humour wrecks him. He is sympathetic to your pleas not to be alone, and comes up with the solution to shrink you into his pocket for missions. But then again, taking you to situations that could potentially remind you of your trauma might not be helpful. He'll let you decide for yourself between that, and having him leave his phone in his pocket while it's on call to you, so you can hear his voice all the time as he's away on his work.

Illuso- You always did want him to spend more time with you. Now every moment you weren't together is a deep regret. If he was there, he could have saved you before they even harmed a hair on your head. At first, his main concern was your physical health, yelling and snapping at Melone to work faster as he tended to your wounds, but over the next few days it became clear your mental scars ran far deeper. Partially brought on by his own terror of you being hurt again, he asks permission to keep you in the mirror world as much as possible for the immediate future, when there's nobody who can be with you. Chances are, you'll want this anyway to feel safer, and it also helps you feel assured about him. You know that no matter what, if you're in the mirror world, Illuso is alive. When you leave the mirror world, it's always at his side.

Prosciutto- Of course he blames himself. As your lover it is wrong, no, reprehensible, for him to have failed to protect you from this danger, and the guilt destroys him for a long time. Prosciutto always felt himself good at motivating people but it's different when their joy has been completely torn from them from the inside. So he is largely quiet. If you were not already living together Prosciutto moves you into the room at the base so he can take care of you properly, and let those he trusts do it in his stead when he's not able to. He apologises to you profusely for what happened, and comforts you with touch when his words fail him. He tries to be rational in assuring you that this will not happen again- describing how secure the base is and how thoroughly they eliminated the group that took you in revenge for your pain. If it helps, he'll even get you a jar of your chief abuser's ashes, to remind you always that he is dead and gone.

Pesci- He cries a lot. You both do. No matter the circumstances of your kidnapping, he is convinced his failures are to blame. He despairs, convinced he doesn't deserve to have you after what he's done. He waits on you hand and foot 24 hours of the day, rushing to bring you whatever you wish and cuddling you tight for comfort. As much as Prosciutto despises Pesci slacking, he fully appreciates the sensitivities of the situation and lets him have the first few months attending to you fully, before gradually ushering him back to his training. Pesci is completely lost on what to do with you, but the one thing he knows is that you feel better when he's with you. So he'll stay with you, day in and day out, until your old self comes back. If there's anything else he can do to help, just ask.

Melone- He knows a fair bit about trauma. Psychology is an interest of his and he reads up on it often. Still, nothing could prepare him for actually seeing such a mental state play out on the person he loves. If anything, his knowledge only makes it worse for him- forced to watch as a textbook case of PTSD unfolds in the weeks after your rescue. He wishes he could take you to a therapist but that's not possible without endangering the team further, so he's forced to use whatever techniques he can scrounge together to try and help you through it himself. With your informed consent, he encourages you to gradually be more open about what happened so you can come to terms with it, all while exposing you to his bottomless affections in order to stimulate the love hormones that will help you recover.

Ghiaccio- This shouldn't have happened. He was the strongest, right? He should have been able to stop this from happening. Though he doesn't mean to, Ghiaccio somewhat shuts down himself in response to what happened to you, and it far from helps your deterioration. He alternates between the most vicious rants about how he should have saved you sooner and periods of terrifying quiet, the two of you just sitting there together, appreciating you're both still alive. The one thing he can do is reassure you this won't happen again. He might have been vigilant before, but now he's going to hold back nothing. He completes his missions at record time and races right back to be with you. He swears to god that he'll never let this happen again.

Risotto- He supposes it's no surprise they came after you when you're the partner of the squad's leader. He should have seen this coming, he should have done something. The first time he sees you after you're physically lucid, he drops to his knees to beg your forgiveness for failing you. The loss of your old self wounds Risotto deeply, and he'll do anything he can to bring it back. Taking you to old date spots and reliving activities that used to make you happy might just go a long way to helping you enjoy life again. The good news is that the bulk of Risotto's work is just planning for missions, so you're welcome to sit nearby if it helps you feel safer. The rest of the team all respect Risotto greatly, so they're happy to take his in-person missions for however long it takes for you to start to feel better, so he can be with you as much as possible.

Sorbet and Gelato- They've never felt their blood boil like it did when they learned of what had happened to you. They actually kept the guy who personally tortured you alive, for a while, tied up in their basement so they could make him suffer longer. But seeing them come out all bloodied frightened you too much, so they finished him off quickly. With you of course, they are nothing but soft, reminding you day in and day out everything will be alright. If it isn't, they'll fight god to make it. They swear their love for you every moment, kissing your scars and squeezing your hand in a silent gesture of reassurance. Every night, they lay you down between them and cling to you tight, their warmth reminding you that they are always there.

[littleoddwriter]

Hello dear! Can i request a Roman Sionis X Male!Reader where the reader is a metahuman with the ability of manipulating blood (aka a vampire) and tries to hide it from his lover until Roman finds out when Reader saves him from a mobster? Fluff please + Roman as proud as hell of his lover? Thanks in advance!

Life's Good | Roman Sionis x VampireMale!Reader

I am so sorry it took me so long to finally write this! I'm slowly catching up with the last few requests I've received before my break. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I've done with it (I admit, it got a little away from me because I was super invested in the scenario I came up with, so it is probably less fluffy than you may have wanted, sorry)!

summary; see above.

notes; CW // Blood-Drinking (mild Dub-Con for that at first); Gun Violence; Being Threatened; Murder (not graphic). Vampires; Kind of angsty?; Fluff; Aftercare (non-sexual, but you know, after feeding from someone).

Unlike most people would think you’ve actually been born this way. Your parents were vampires, conceiving you naturally, which of course meant you’d been born a metahuman. You’ve lived quite a normal life, despite the fact that instead of eating, drinking and sleeping like other humans would, you only slept rarely, only ate people food when you had to fit in, and otherwise you fed from humans, drinking their blood. You’d never killed anyone with it, though. Enough people who wanted you to feed from them existed, establishments were you could find them were all around the world. It was a pretty good life.

Still, you usually opted to keep it secret, unsure as to how people might react. While the general opinion of vampires has changed in all these centuries, standing in front of one was still a wholly different thing for most. You understood and respected that.

So when you met Roman – his scent so enticing, you had trouble keeping your fangs in – you stood in front of the question once again. Should you tell him?

Eventually, you decided to go with the flow and see where it’d take you. You didn’t immediately want to ruin your chances with him before you’ve actually gotten to know him at all.

At first it was a casual relationship anyway, no need to tell him your big secret then. But as time went on, your relationship became more serious. You stayed over at his loft more frequently, forced to eat his food and drink his beverages, so as not to let him suspect anything. It didn’t hurt you or anything, it was just unnecessary and you’d never get really used to, well, actual food and such. All the different textures and tastes and what you could do with what to change it. It was fascinating, but not exactly your favourite thing.

Of course, one fateful day it had all come to a head.

You had just admitted to yourself that you loved Roman a couple of weeks ago, not daring to say anything to him, as you didn’t fancy ruining what you two had with those three simple, yet powerful words.

Now though, you regretted that decision more than ever, terrified that maybe you would never be able to tell him how you felt.

It all happened so fast, too. One moment, you and Roman were out on the streets, way into the evening, having just had dinner at an expensive restaurant he’d invited you to; and you were laughing, talking about something – you couldn’t remember what – when you turned into an alleyway. In the next moment, a rival mob boss shot at the two of you. Warning shots, missing you both on purpose.

“What the fuck?!” Roman exclaimed, livid, but you could smell the underlying anxiety change his usual scent from when he was enraged. You hated it.

The gang leader – whatwashisface, you could never keep up – stood now in front of you two, having Roman at gunpoint. His men had surrounded you two, pointing their guns at both of you.

“What do you want?” Sionis spat at the other mob boss, glaring at him with a piercing, wild look in his eyes.

You stayed silent, your hands raised out of instinct. The bullets wouldn’t be able to kill you, unless they were specifically made for it, but that was so unlikely, you weren’t overly worried. You were concerned about Roman, though, anxious that this might have been it.

“Set an example, that’s what. You can’t scare us into submission. You can’t control us. You really think getting a hold of the East End would give you enough power to do that? Fuck you, I say!” the leader yelled.

“Well, fucking go on then if you’re really so tough! Or are you only bark and no bite? Cowardly ambushing me in private like that, I’m inclined to believe you are nothing but a talker. You can’t scare me either, you fuck.” You really wished Roman would shut up for once, lest he’d really get himself killed this time.

Your mind was racing with all possible outcomes this situation could bring. Only one was sure to get Roman out alive; and boy were you glad you’ve fed from someone yesterday.

Even though you had never killed anyone and didn’t desire to do so, you were ready to do anything for Roman, no matter what. You didn’t care that he’d know then, know that you were a freak of nature, as some hateful people liked to call people like you. You didn’t care that you’d take lives. They weren’t innocent, dared to threaten your love and you just couldn’t see past that.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, focusing your abilities into play and onto every single man of this rival gang. It was rare for you to use any of your powers that didn’t exist and activate naturally, like your strength. Your parents had taught you to only use them for self defence and this situation was practically screaming for it.

Snapping your eyes back open, now glowing red, all of the men around you gasped and crumbled, letting their weapons clatter to the ground, grasping at their throats, or chest, trying so hard to save themselves. Moments later, they were all just lifeless bodies, lying around Roman and you, as if you were some victorious kings. And in a way, you were exactly that, weren’t you? Roman was soon to be the King of Gotham after all.

All too suddenly, all the strength left your body, your legs giving out. Roman, despite his apparent shock, caught you, steadied you. Gently, he lowered you to the ground, keeping his arms tightly wound around you.

It had taken a lot more out of you than you had anticipated. You desperately needed to feed.

“Y/N? Baby, hey, look at me,” Roman spoke softly, something only reserved for you, you had come to realise.

With half-lidded eyes, you looked up at him, a strained sound passing your lips. “You okay?” you asked, still unsure if everything had truly worked out the way you thought it would.

He scoffed, “Yes, quit worrying about me. Are you okay? What the fuck was that anyway?”

“Just gotta eat,” you murmured, slurring your words heavily, “Sorry about the- that. I’ll explain later.”

“What do you mean you have to eat? Baby, I can’t follow you. I hope you realise that I’m missing some of the fucking context here,” he chuckled, which bordered on sounding hysterical.

“Blood. Vampire. Now, Roman, or else- fuck. Won’t make it.” Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your voice just barely above a whisper anymore. Fuck, you hoped he understood. Even more so, you hoped he was okay with it and that maybe he liked you enough to save your life. You didn’t exactly fancy feeding from him, when he was basically pressured into it. But he had a choice, you told yourself.

When you were slowly lifted up a bit and felt skin against your lips, you forced all your last strength to open your mouth – your fangs had automatically unsheathed when you unleashed your powers – and bite down.

The first taste of Roman was as intoxicating and overwhelming as you had always fantasised it would be. A shaky moan came out of him when you started sucking in earnest. Pretty quickly, you regained more and more strength, feeling increasingly less dead. You cupped the other side of Roman’s neck with your hand and pulled him further in. Shit, you couldn’t possibly get enough.

After a few, long moments, you felt Roman push against you, as well as pulling at your clothes, calling your name. Reluctantly, and almost as if you were just waking up from a trance, you let up and licked up the excess blood on his neck, simultaneously licking his wounds closed.

Roman was breathing heavily, and you were still feeling out of it, as you two just kneeled in this alley, holding each other, amidst the dead bodies of Sionis’ former rivals. It was bizarre.

“I think we should go home,” Roman said eventually, his voice sounded so soft, as if he was barely present in the real world.

You nodded and got up, helping Roman to do the same. He was swaying a little and this time you were the one who steadied him. Drinking someone’s blood always took a toll on both parties and you knew you had taken more from him than you usually dared to do with anyone. It made you feel guilty. You had to make it up to him later – if he still wanted you then – that was for sure.

When you had arrived at Roman’s loft, you helped him lie down on his chaise longue, legs propped up on one of his many pillows, to help his blood flow to where it was most needed. Then you went over to the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.

Roman nodded in thanks when you pressed either item in his hands, standing above him. You felt so uncomfortable, didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, or if you were even supposed to still be here. He’s been so unusually quiet the entire time, albeit it was most likely due to shock and blood loss.

“So, you’re a vampire.” Roman stated, looking at you, and you hated that you couldn’t place his expression into any kind of category. You just nodded in answer. “Right. And why exactly didn’t I know?”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times, looking for the right words. “I was afraid of losing you over it,” you settled on telling the truth eventually.

Again, Roman only nodded; his expression was still so indecipherable, but then a certain shine caught in his eyes. You’ve only witnessed it a couple of times thus far.

“You killed for me,” he practically gasped. “Have you killed before? Being a vampire and all, I’d presume you have.”

You shook your head, “No, that was the first time, actually.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, in an instant, his expression morphed into something prideful, a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes brighter than any stars you’ve seen in the sky above – it was breathtaking. “You killed for me,” he repeated, sitting upright, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise longue, planting his feet on the ground.

“Y-yeah, I did,” you replied, a weak chuckle leaving you. You still couldn’t quite believe that you’ve done it, especially when you spared a thought on how it made you feel – powerful, so far above others, good.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Fuck, you’re a dream come true, my little prince! You’re so special. A vampire! And you killed for me, because-“ He couldn’t finish it, realisation dawning on him, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his smile slowly vanished.

“Because I love you, yes. I couldn’t lose you over some stupid mob boss who thought he could ambush you like that.”

Roman licked his lips and nodded, placed the empty glass and half eaten energy bar on the table in front of him, and got up.

“I’m proud of you,” he then said, taking you by surprise.

“What? Why?”

“For not letting your fears get in your way. You were afraid of losing me for being a vampire, but you were probably even more terrified of losing me to my mortality. And you pushed through it. Almost fucking killed yourself, only to save me. I’m proud of you for doing that. I’m grateful, too, naturally.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Roman,” you snickered.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Roman pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back, hoping to show him just how grateful you were with that single kiss.

Then you remembered your guilt from before and broke it. Roman glared at you for a moment. “What?”

“You never gave your consent, I- I fed from you and you never-“

“I did. By offering myself to you. I had a choice, you know? So quit it. You’re not guilty of anything, my boy. And just so you know, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever feed from anyone else again, ‘kay?” He was smirking, but his eyes had an edge to them, which let you know that he was serious about his threat.

Giving a short laugh, you nodded and kissed him again. Life really was good.

[oitommothetease]

Invisible String (4/?)

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Description: James Buchanan Barnes, the owner of the most expensive-looking club in town and your new apartment. He was a dick and you hated him. What could possibly go wrong when you, the new girl in town, start bartending at his club to pursue your dreams?

Word Count: 2.6k words

Warning: 18+ (discussion of assault, nervous breakdown, anxiety attack, just don’t read this whole series if you are a kid)

You woke up to a night of dreamless sleep like you always did, but then the events of the previous night hit you. You wished it was a dream, but one look in the mirror and a bruise running along your cheek was enough to confirm. Not only that, but you remembered asking your boss to stay over, but you didn't expect him to. The blanket on your living room’s couch and the bowl of fruits and a glass of juice situated out for you on the kitchen counter proved that he did stay.

And then the reality sunk in, you have a decision to make. You can either go to the cops or let that guy get away. The latter sounded not so great, but you knew going to the cops isn't going to be great either. You've seen enough detective shows to know that. You've had enough, and you just wanted to forget it. 

What did Mr. Barnes mean when he said you were going to talk about this? Are you supposed to visit him before work? Is he going to come to your place?

You decided to work on your book but ended up not being able to concentrate, so you started watching a show and fell asleep while watching it. Maybe some Chinese take-out could make you feel better. It didn't. Nothing made you feel better. You wished you had some friends in this new town because you didn't want to burden your work friends. 

After a horrible day of trying to cope, when you finally made your way to the club, you noticed the security was increased. Usually, security guards weren't present inside the club, but today it was different. Everyone was so vigilant and you felt a little safer. If you didn't know any better, you'd think Mr. Barnes did it for you, but again he would have done the same thing for any other employee. 

"Boss wants to see you," Pietro told you. You were about to head for Clint's office when the blond twin spoke again and pointed his finger towards the stairs." The boss."

Okay, well maybe playing naïve couldn't avoid this meeting, so you slowly walked upstairs. How bad could this go, it's not like he saw you in your most vulnerable state? Oh, wait, he did. 

You knocked on his office door, wanting to rip the band-aid and get over with it. 

"Hey," you said, faking a smile. "Thanks for getting me home last night and for breakfast today. I didn't even know I had fruits and juice at home because let's be honest, I'm a toast and coffee kinda gal."

Mr. Barnes didn't say anything, he just looked at you as if you were a confusing puzzle that he couldn't solve. He raised a hand towards the seat in front of him and you took it, nervously fiddling with your fingers under the table.

“You do that a lot, you know?” he asked, it wasn't a question, it was merely an observation.

“What?”

“Deflecting a serious issue by using a joke.” Mr. Barnes observed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What are you? My therapist?”

He arched an eyebrow, indicating that you were literally doing the thing he pointed out. 

"Yeah, well, it's called having a healthy coping mechanism. You should try getting one, brooding is only gonna help you this far."

 "It's not healthy if you're not dealing with it," Mr. Barnes pointed out. 

You scoffed in incredulity and you felt very, very attacked. 

What is it? Attacking y/n day?, you thought. 

"Anyway, I think I want to press charges," You changed the subject to a more serious conversation to avoid him calling you out on your bullshit. 

"Okay, I understand.” 

“You do?” You asked, bewilderment clearly written all over your face. “I mean, letting an employee go to the cops is not gonna be great for your club's reputation and yours too. And, you know, considering the shady business, you do-” 

"What exactly do you think we do?" He asked.

And that's when it hit you, you didn't know what he did or mob bosses do in general. All your knowledge about it came from movies and Wattpad, both of them are not a great place to gain knowledge.

“What exactly do you do?” you pondered.

 He obviously wasn't expecting you to directly ask him, nobody has directly asked him or even made it known that they are aware of his work. It was kind of like a silent pact that everybody signed for, everybody except you, apparently. 

“Um, you know, I've been working for almost 2 weeks here now, and I haven't seen any drugs around here, so it's obviously not drugs. You don't look like the sex trafficking types-”

 "Jesus, woman!" He exclaimed, offended by your assumptions. 

"Then just tell me what you do."

You expected him to tell you something, but he just kept looking at you with a face void of emotions.

 "Fine, don't tell me," you mumbled, raising your hands dramatically in defeat. 

“So you don't mind me ruining your reputation by going to the cops?” 

“I told you I don't care. Your safety is my utmost priority,” your face might have given away the surprise you felt because he quickly backpedaled. ”I mean, the safety of my employees.”

“The safety of my employees is my utmost priority,” he told you, providing an extra emphasis on the word employees. “Anyway, one of my people would take you to the police station near-"

You cut him off immediately. 

"No, you can't tell anyone else. I don't want everyone hopping on the pity train. I'm already ashamed that you know about it," you pleaded but your voice was firm, telling him that this was not up for a discussion.

At this, his eyes and features softened. Bucky didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed for somebody else's actions, but clearly, you did. 

"Okay, then I can take you. You just had to explain to the officer last night’s events, and they'll ask you to recognize Rumlow and then we can-"

Mr. Barnes’s voice faded into the background when it finally hit you.

"You know what, I changed my mind. It's too much. I don't want to press charges anymore. I didn't think this through," you backtracked. You did think this through, but now all the factors were adding up in your brain. You'd have to explain the details to a cop who is probably going to be another man and a stranger, and then they'd ask you to identify the guy. You didn't think you had it in you to face him. At least not now. 

He interpreted your thought process and promptly changed the topic. "Okay, we can work with whatever you want, and at least let Peter escort you home after work."

"What? No!” You quickly declined.

“It's for your own safety,” Bucky tried to reason. He wasn't letting you get off this easily.

 “I'm a strong, independent woman and I'm not scared of anything.” 

That was a lie. You were scared of many things like heights, dark, spiders, confrontation and the list goes on and on. 

You remembered all the lectures your mom gave you telling you that women should be scared because men are monsters, and you'd lose your honor if you are reckless and some other patriarchal crap that you didn't pay attention to. But you weren't scared, you were just always careful. You'd always put the keys between your knuckles when you went home alone. In your previous job, you used to laugh it off whenever your coworkers made a sexist joke. You'd ignore the subtle shoulder touch that your previous boss did. You told yourself that this is what it takes to make it. If you were to run away every time someone eyed you in a wrong way, then you'd spend your whole life running. 

Women usually shrug this behavior off as it is what is, but the truth is it shouldn't be like this.

“Please, I insist.” 

“I'm very capable of taking care of myself. Just because one bad incident happened doesn't mean I'll fucking break!” You stated, your voice louder than your regular voice to get across your point.

That was also a lie. You were walking on a thin line and you were ignoring your emotions. You were one outburst away from a breakdown, and you just couldn't bring yourself to feel anything. 

Mr. Barnes tried to call your name, but you were already bolting out of his office. 

You needed a drink. No, fuck that. You needed multiple drinks. It wasn't exactly wise to get drunk during work, but it couldn't get any shittier than this, right?, you thought.

Right?

 Wrong. It could get way shittier than this. Now it was almost midnight, you were kind of tipsy, and you could see two Mr. Stark, your regular customer, in front of you. 

Did he have a twin? Is he and his twin brother one of those identical twins that dress up the same? Because that's what it looked like.

 “Earth to y/n," Mr. Stark said, or was it his twin? It was getting hard to keep track anymore.

 And that's when you noticed. 

“Holy, Shit. You're triplets, Mr. Stark," you announced. 

"Okay, kid, close my tab.”

“Hey, y/n. Are you okay?” Peter asked, noticing the concerned look Mr. Stark gave him before leaving.

“Yes, I'm fine. Absolutely fine.”

***

Turns out you were not fine. You've been pretty much hammered for the past week, and you could barely get a sentence out without giggling or slurring. Your colleagues took notice of your state and whenever someone pointed it out, you'd just shrug it off as a bad day or a bad week. There was no concept of time in your drunk state.

You couldn't concentrate on your book, you could barely look at someone without squinting, and you've been eating takeout and leftovers for the past few days. 

James would have fired if someone working under him was this irresponsible, but he knew your reasons. He knew you clearly weren't coping with the trauma well. Your work ethics were shoved down the trash that even Clint asked why you weren't fired yet.

Bucky didn't want to talk to you, he thought that maybe giving you some space would do you good, but clearly it wasn't working. Usually, the mob boss didn't interfere in the affairs of his employees, it was Clint's job, but when you smashed a bottle on the head of a customer, he had to interject.

“I TOLD THIS FUCKER NO!” you yelled, Peter’s hand around your middle from behind. Another empty beer bottle was in your hand, ready to be smashed across the face of the drunk dude in front of you.

Pietro and Wanda were enjoying the show. Peter, being the peace lover he is, held you back when you smashed a bottle across a drunk customer's face. Even though Peter was younger than you, he was stronger, and he was not only holding you back but also himself. He didn't want to cause a scene and that is why he was mulling comforting words in your ear like, he's not worth it, you're gonna kill this guy.

Damn right I am, you thought.

It was ironic because everyone in that club had killed someone except you.

When Bucky walked into the room, the drunk guy turned towards him and pointed at you. ”You are hiring crazy bitches now? Just called her baby girl and she went psycho!!!”

Bucky didn't understand what was happening. He told the security guards to take that man outside his club and he walked towards you. He firmly yet gently took a hold of your left arm, signaling Peter to let go of you. Without a word, he started walking in the direction of his office, dragging you along with him.

Once near his office, he lightly yanked your hand and shoved you inside, making you stand in front of him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he inquired, having had enough of your incompetence.

You were seething with rage. "Wrong with me? I told him no, but he didn't listen."

Bucky stepped forward, his anger dissipating into sympathy. " I know, he mumbled, "and I'm so-"

 "No, you don't know!" you yelled, body trembling and tears welling up in your eyes. "I told him no multiple times, I even tried to push him off me, but he just kept coming back."

Bucky's eyes furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand your words, the drunk customer didn't touch you. And that's when he realized, you weren't talking about the drunk customer. He cognized that the drunk guy purely triggered something that you've been suppressing for days now. Bucky was aware that you needed to get it out of your system to cope healthily.

“I told him no, you know? But he just wouldn't listen,” you stated, trying to convince yourself that you didn't lead him on. ”And he was so…. so strong and… and then he hit me and everything just went blur, I couldn't see but... but I could still feel him with me.”

Not realizing that you were not in that place anymore, you wrapped your hand around yourself to seek some sort of protection and comfort, bottom lip quivering, the welled up traitorous tears were streaming down your face and all you could think about was that night. 

“I… I can't get his touch out,” you stammered. ” I shower, multiple times a day, but I still can't get his touch out.”

With that, you broke down completely and shattered on the floor, sobbing ferociously. Your knees ached because of the position you were situated in, but the emotional pain was enough to overshadow the physical one.

For once in his lifetime, Bucky did not know what to do. Cautiously, he made his way towards you and knelt down in front of you. He did not know what to say or do to make you feel better.

You launched your body towards him, snaking your arms around his shoulder to settle on his neck as if he was the only thing grounding you. You lurched onto him like he was your anchor, and maybe he was. It took a minute for Bucky to register your actions, and when he did, he wrapped his arms around your middle and closed the minuscule distance separating you.

He surprised himself with the way one of his hands automatically reached for your hair and whispered words of comfort in your ear. He caught you as you crumpled physically and emotionally. 

”You're going to be okay, doll,” he whispered and kissed your temple with sincerity. ”I will make sure of that.”

The second part was barely audible, it wasn't meant for you, it was a promise he made to himself.

Bucky held you tightly yet gently while you sobbed on his shoulder.

 He didn't know how long he held you, it felt like an eternity to him with the way he could feel the guilt and rage inside him. When you passed out in his arms, he gently placed you on one of the comfortable couches in his office and draped a blanket around you that he had for when he would work late at night.

An office chair might not be the most ideal place to spend the night in, but it didn't matter to Bucky. All that mattered was you.

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