#i’ve said it before but succession music has been PLAYING OVER THIS SHIT!!!!!!!

[priestfrommidnightmass]

whatever i’m thinking about when his girlfriend had to keep literally physically pulling his face away because he kept looking at / talking to me and when we were sitting flush against each other while she was sitting on the couch across from us and when he kept using her drunkenly hugging other girls or whatever as excuses to keep touching me. and when he pinned me against the wall in front of everyone and when he asked me to hit him in front of everyone. and every time he’s told me he’s loved me and that he’s proud of me and called me his best friend and that my friend confirmed that he talks very nicely about me when i’m not around and all the times he’s showed up for me when he absolutely did not have to and the way he looks at her and the way he looks at me and the time someone who’d never met us had to ASK whether me or his girlfriend was who he was dating and the way i’ve never seen him treat anyone else the way he treats me and a MILLION OTHER FUCKING THINGS 😭 i never signed up to play this game of mixed ass signals so WHY AM I IN THE MIDDLE OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[brooklynbrunette]

Hey blog,

It’s been a while. Months, actually. I don’t know where to start the recap, but long story short: I’ve never felt more lost with the direction of my life than I do right at this very moment. In fact, it’s as if I’m moving blindly, without taking notice to what’s going well, what isn’t. What’s working, what isn’t. Who’s helping me, who’s hurting me. Who wants best for me—and who can’t fucking wait to see me fail.

It’s been a full year since I’ve graduated college. And that alone was supposed to be a momentous occasion, accomplishment that gave me time to think about the things that I want. I skipped that. All of it. I went straight for what was working at the time, and I fell in love with the money I was making, the public stature I was building. I felt like I was finally beginning to own who I am, and lately, I’ve just been getting ripped apart.

That’s actually a lie. Maybe I don’t own who I am fully— I still keep the fact that I started my own business under wraps because I fear failure, I still believe it’s a phase, or I believe that once I’m all in, I’ll actually hate the commitment that brings. I fear people knowing all about me and the things I do because I think they’ll laugh, talk shit about me, wish upon my downfall, all of it. I don’t want any negative attention on me, but it’s just been everywhere, and all at once.

One thing that inspires me to do better, and commit to this was the powerful women I work with. Seeing their successes, their failures, the whole build up to the moment they said, “I made it.” Or how they still sometimes feel like they aren’t enough. I’m like a sponge in their presence, because I want to figure everything out before, or if, it even happens to me.

I used to love what I did because it gave me creative freedom, and I didn’t realize how important that was for me to find life enjoyable. To just be happy. To be content. It’s what I love about reading, writing, all of those silly little hobbies I gave up for the sake of taking on more and more fucking work. And it’s paying well… but not paying off.

Lately, I feel like I’m being treated like a machine—do this, do that. No don’t do that, I want it this way and this way only. Replicate what I want. DO what I want. Why won’t you do it this way. No. No. NO. Are you doing this? I need you on this. I need your help with this. Can you help me? Can you help them? Do you have the time? Make the time. Do it. Just fucking do it.

And I can’t fucking do it anymore. I cannot appease everyone, because it’s costing me my wellbeing. It’s taking the girl who graduated with the strongest sense of self-confidence, and ripping her apart. It’s creating dark circles under her eyes, lackluster hair, and pale skin. It’s giving her heart palpitations, a stomach screaming at her to eat, a headache knocking at her brain like an alarm. It’s eating her alive, and no one can really see it, not even her.

Sometimes I wonder it that’s my path—to chase success at any cost, to refuse failure, and to try and do anything and everything because I get anxiety over any missed opportunity for growth. And it’s still all I feel. Again, I’m like a sponge—except I soaked in so much information that I became too heavy to move. Paralyzed by my obsession to grow.

I’m starting to face the music. One year out, and I’m not playing with the idea of having my own business anymore. Neither are the people that I work for. The second I took my job seriously and acquired one client after the next, fought for a higher price, and connecting business deals, the less I was worried about having to be taken seriously so much as having to worry about being seen as a power hungry ambitious female that has to be given barking orders in order to be tamed.

I’m seeing changes in my professional life all across the board. The people I looked up to and the ones I could come to for advice are now the ones seeing me as a threat. I’ve already lost the friends I’ve had in my life prior to this career change. Did I really fuck up so bad I had to lose the respect I carried for my mentors as well? Life’s just unfair that way. My only guiding light, again, dimmed by my ambitions to grow.

It feels like I’m running a marathon I’ve never signed up for, with no end in sight. But I do see the path, the long stretch. Some days it’s foggy, but it’s still there. I just can’t stop running. It feels like a fate worse than death.

I’ve come to learn the most expensive thing in this life is time. Sometimes I feel like there’s an abundance of it, other days I’m truly reminded what a scarcity it is. I’m forgetting I’m only 23. It’s just the beginning! But I’m also 23… a quarter of my life is gone. What am I supposed to do with that information? Freak out, get married, raise kids?

When I was graduating college, I felt this magic— like anything is possible. And I can’t lie, even on my worst days, I feel it still. I admire the world around me, even as I rush about my day. I may even take some time to envy those I watch, because they seem less worried, less anxious. More free.

I’m grateful for where I am right now, even though I’m not content. I want more. I want it all. Is that too big of an ask? It shouldn’t be. Not for me.

My goal in life is to level up. It sounds silly when I put it that way, but I’ve always thought that we as humans are given trials and tribulations to overcome for the sake of leveling up. Growing. Changing. When you treat life like a game, you become so much more motivated to win.

So yes, as I’ve said, I can’t do it anymore. I cannot care what people think. I cannot live one foot in and one foot out of taking my business seriously. I cannot trust anyone around me— including those I’ve admired and leaned on for mentorship. Because just like we can outgrow friends, and outgrow lovers, we sure as hell can outgrow the fucking people we used to admire. It happens when you grow. When you level up.

Whatever I want, I will get. I want to be successful. I will be in control of that success. I will unlock my complete potential. And I want to do it now.

I want people to look me in the eyes and realize I am in a league of my own. There’s no competition—I will work hard enough that I overcome it. I do not want to feel the jealousy, the envy, and all of the other ugly emotions that come with moving on. Moving up.

I know I am smart, I am strong-willed, and I am capable. Even on my weakest days, I need to remind myself if there’s one thing that drives me, it’s spite. I like surprising those who underestimate, undervalue, and under-appreciate me. And I will continue to do so, every single damn day.

This one’s for future me— today you canceled an event because you felt jealousy that you even got an invite to attend. You felt worthless, beneath someone. Never do it again. You can cry and bitch about it, but at the end of the day, you wipe your tears, fix your makeup, and show the fuck up. We’re still learning as we go, but never again. You’re so much better than the worth you place on yourself through the opinions of others.

Lately, you’ve been taking everything personally. Because you feel that you are the work you do. Work is work, and you are you. Stop measuring success on likability. Not everyone will love everything you do. Just like not everyone will love you. The only thing you can do is adapt your methods, overcome the issue, and pose a solution. Stop waiting for direction, for orders. Stop sitting stagnant. Take control. And if you lost it, take it the fuck back.

Your feelings and opinions are valid, do not convince yourself otherwise.

Take what you’re feeling today and use it. Use it to learn, use it to grow. Use it as evidence that not everyone wishes the best for you. Be mindful of that.

Until next time, blog. <3

[winderlylandchime]

3/3‘I pray for the day that i no longer hear violin music. Brian don’t give him your money, he isn’t worth it. Oh I don’t think he’s bullshiting him here about wanting him to be successful. We *points to brian and himself* arent trying to win anyone back! YES YOU DO WANT HIM! *ethan says that nazi line* OH FUCK YOU ETHAN..you know Brian actually makes sense here. Every person has survival instincts and we all in that moment when we have to decide, pick whatever keeps us alive. SO SHUSH! Oh Brian is right right! IF he was smart he would find a way, unfortunately he isn’t. If that was Brian he would do it only if it affected him alone, that’s where him and Ethan differ. Now Brian? He would find some loophole for sure. But he also wouldn’t hide for long, i mean he didn’t waste a second with that baldy. Or he would make one of his performances have gay orgy in the back…yeah. So i get what he’s saying, do your shit, get rich and make it to a point where nobody can pretend that you being gay is the reason why your career shouldn’t exist. That way YOU make the rules and you have the upper hand. I mean we had Ricky and George Michael and Lance and Elton and Rosie O’donnell and that guy from Prison Break and WE CANT FORGET ABOUT MY BOY ELLIOT! poor guy had to do it twice! (ELLIOT PAGE!!! I had no clue that that was his boy) BUT! The difference is! Ethan has *almost gags* Justin. If he was single go for it, do whatever. But forcing someone else into a closet for you? Fuck you. Thats not what Bri Bri meant, so him saying this noble line to the kazoo fucker is a little different in ways. Ya know? I mean my blondie almost died cause he was out. So that line makes sense for Brian and his life but Ethan? Nah, fuck him. But please do go on a tour somewhere far away and play music for people who want to hear it which btw *points to a paused brian and then himself* not us. NOW THAT is how you walk away from a dramatic park scene not whatever ethan was doing before’ He is now fully jamming out to Barbie Girl. ‘Second OD? Oh Ben is ODing for sure! AND HERES BEN! Foreshadowing!!’ ‘WE DONT WANT THAT FUCKER ELECTED! BRIAN WAKE UP! OH NO he’s going after Babylon. BRIAN THATS YOUR HOME’ He just groaned on top of his lungs at the sight of Ethan ‘Oh how the mighty have fallen. Justin i know someone who can afford expensive shit that you love without a problem. HE SIGNED THE DEAL DIDNT HE?! No matter what happens? OH HE IS A SLIMY LIL SHIT! (justin says why would anything happen?) Because I’ve been praying on your guys’ downfall since like 8 episodes ago. *pauses tv* see, justin. When brian had dumb shit to tell you, he would just tell you. He wouldnt give you some romantic shit to trick you and then drop the bomb. Just saying! HE SAID THE LINE! OH JUSTIN WE BOTH KNOW WHERE HE HEARD IT (he is smiling like a kid in a candy store) ARE THEY GONNA BREAK UP?! Adventure? Secret? No dude youre not asking him, youre literally shoving him into a closet.. Justin no, youre smarter than this! THIS IS NOT WHAT I WAS PLANNING! And im sure neither was Bri Bri’ ‘oh no this wannabe mayor fucker is going after Babylon. Oh Bri Bri won’t like that! (Mike sees Ben) OH MY GOD! dude. You are taking this a little to easy. So boring’ and now we are ending it on Britin again ‘JUSTIN IS BACK IN THE CLUB! Why is he wearing turtleneck sweater all of the sudden? Oh he is looking for his man Bri Bri! I CANT STAND VIOLIN MUSIC EITHER BRIAN! FINALLY SOMEONE GETS IT!(brian says the sacrifice career line)oh…oh this is a callback to Vermont isn’t it? Justin wanted him to basically forget about his job when he was almost fired over a trip. Brian is right tho. That’s not love. You can’t be with someone and make them sacrifice their life or dreams or whatever because sooner or later they will hate you for it. But damn it, i was hoping they would slowly become besties and then fuck…did you see how Brian watched him when he left but he was getting head? JUST ADMIT THAT YOU LOVE HIM!’ And now he is pissed off that he can’t watch more because he is fully convinced that they break up in 3x06

He no longer wants to hear violin music? OH MY GOD DOES HE HAVE A TREAT WAITING FOR HIM because Bri Bri feels exactly the same way.

HIS BOY IS ELLIOTT PAGE! THAT’S WHO ELLIOTT IS?!?! I AM IN LOVE.

His blondie almost died because he was out. Our guy and Daphne are on exactly the same page.

I never made the connection between the VT trip and Ethan’s contract. Interesting! I don’t disagree.

If Ethan had turned down the contract because HE didn’t want to be in the closet, that would have worked. But he was going to sacrifice his career for Justin and resent him and Justin would have felt guilty and let Ethan resent him.

I am so excited for your brother’s reaction to the break up… I’m almost giddy.

[surveillance-0011]

Before ω-3 was formed (or was never formed) , what do you think the members were doing, how their life was, etc?

DJ:

Dropped out of college or high school to pursue music (and bc school had grown to be way too detrimental for his mental health between failing grades and feeling very insecure) . This resulted in a big fight with his mom that ended in him being kicked out. Even if she took it back or never told him she wanted him gone, he took it as a sign to leave.

Cue the couchsurfing. He stayed with friends and strangers, and in hotels as he perfected his craft and performed gigs at clubs. Some of these living situations he ended up in were not the best and a few were probably dangerous or traumatizing.

Fortunately his sister, too, did allow them to stay with her for some time. Maybe it makes for sense for him to just stay with her but idk I haven’t decided and they don’t get along the best so I think he only decided to swallow his pride and ask her for help when everything went to shit.

He also took up a couple of odd jobs, taking whatever he could to get a little more cash.

The whole… everything started like 2-3 years before the band formed.

Eventually he saved up for somewhere to live…maybe. But he found an ad for a position in a band or was approached after a show from a certain cello-playing fish…

He accepted to meet up. It almost didn’t happen, though, because he overslept misremembering the time as pm when it was am… fortunately he woke up in the afternoon and called Blade to meet up then. Their introduction was rushed and messy but they were able to join!

Had he missed it, though… I think his life could have turned out alright still? It’d be a lot rougher and he’d never reach the level of fame he has now but I think he’d manage and get out of the shitty situation he was in.

Timpanist

Honestly, life has been good to him- esp compared to the other two- the past few years. He had grown past some rougher teen years to be a decent person with decent mental health and a decent ability to play drums.

He was just kind of… lost? He felt like something was missing. Some attention, or just the ability to really do what he wanted.

Another issue is that we was kind of homesick. He had left the Trout Jigokudani to pursue his dreams… or just like, a better career in a more modern, urbanized setting.

Was part of an orchestra but left bc it wasn’t really his thing. Then he joined a more traditional salmon music group, performing for festivals and ceremonies. He was relatively successful and satisfied but he just felt like nothing was really what he truly wanted. Like he hadn’t struck gold yet.

The other two (or one of em, probably) came across this music group somehow- probably at an event or nearby where they played. After the show on his way home the two stopped him to ask about the band.

It took some thinking over, but he obliged. Rest is history.

Also, he invited Faith to live with him once he settled into the role.

If the band never happened he’d have stuck with his old gig, or moved back to his hometown. I’d like to think he’d find something to fulfill him but maybe he would not, and become disillusioned with his life.

Cellist

Like I’ve said before he had struggled with his mental health a lot. In the years or maybe just months preceding the band’s debut he was at a low point. Not the lowest, maybe, but… Just kind of existing.

He, too, was part of some other band. He cycled through a lot of different gigs but never stayed because he often fought and just didn’t mix with a lot of people. Only one lasted for some time and even then they eventually had their falling out.

There was also solo work, composing for others or herself.

She was struggling again with her anxiety and other issues, and at that point it was starting to become too much to bear.

And so came the shot in the dark. When Faith missed the og time she almost fucking lost it, she was torn and pretty much hopeless, so it’s a relief that they ended up meeting up in the end.

Had Faith not done so? Things would not have ended well here.

Maybe the two of them would’ve been able to continue as a duo but I doubt ω-3 would be as iconic or survive as long as it has. I don’t know what Blade would do if it hadn’t worked out.

Actually, I do. And I’ll leave it at that.

[businessbois]

undefined

TommyInnit Appreciation for 4 minutes and 6 seconds (part 6, here’s 1 2 3 4 5 if you need that serotonin)

timestamps+transcript:

1:06:13 Settling Into Snowchester February 23

Tubbo: (reading dono) “‘Hey Tubbo, I was wondering if you could tell a story on how you started getting big on Twitch.’ I owe it literally all to TommyInnit. I would— Without TommyInnit, or Tommy even, I would literally still just be chilling on, like, 400 viewers. Like, I would not be— I would not be anywhere near— like, I see the number 70 thousand in the viewer box up there and that just does not clock for me. Like, that is—that’s just—that is so far beyond the dream, it just seems unbelievable. So I basically owe it all to Tommy. He’s the reason I was able to join the Dream SMP. He’s the reason that I didn’t quit even when I hated, hated certain aspects. Like, when I did Skyblock YouTube for ages. Like, ‘cause there were times when I was gonna quit, but he motivated me to keep going. He has an unbelievable work ethic, he does.”

42:01 Snowchester Improvements February 6th 

Jack: “Wait, did he [Tommy] hit 5 mil, though? Hold on. Sorry to break the moment, but did my boy 5 mil?” [typing] “AYYY! He hit 5 mil! Aww, good on him! Really happy for him. I’m breaking RP now. If I had to put a tag on this, I’d put ‘/irl.’ Bless him. Good on him. Ay.”

11:53  TommyInnit Slept In On the Sidemen??

Randolph: “But how crazy that he’s done that now? On the same game?” Simon: “And it’s like, he doesn’t, like— We played Minecraft. He is, like, 400 thousand viewers on Minecraft.” Randolph: “Yeah. Yeah.” Simon: “That’s insane.” Randolph: “And it is interesting. I do like his content and I’ll—I’ll— I don’t watch him religiously, like, I’m a fan of— I wouldn’t say I’m a fan of him, like, I’m not— You got what I’m saying, right? Simon: “Yeah.” Randolph: “But I go onto his Twitch and watch, like, a little bit of it just to see the numbers. It’s mental. And it is entertaining.” Simon: “Yeah, I mean, he is literally, to me, he is literally like a younger Harry [Wroetoshaw] on Minecraft.” Randolph: “Yeah, and you know what I really like about him? Is he’s good at, like, making the—making content on his stream.” Simon: “Yeah.” Randolph: “So he doesn’t just play a game and then edit it later, you can see, like, he changes his camera angle and his stream deck while he’s playing.” Simon: “Yeah.” Randolph: “And he’ll zoom in and stuff, and he’ll turn the music off and he’ll cue the music up. It’s really actually a skill. It’s like a DJ radio presenter and a content creator at the same time.”

1:23:46 we vibe January 13

Ponk: “I asked Tommy and it was like, ‘Uh, how do I join this?’ because Tommy—my goodness—Tommy off-stream is the nicest person I’ve ever met. Like, he is so kind. He replies to messages, like, instantly, right? I know he’s a busy person, but he will still do that.”

 25:40 Wilbur’s Stream February 4

Wilbur: “I wanna do big ups to someone right now. Uh, TommyInnit. I need to give big ups to TommyInnit, right. Uh, so during my time being fucking anxious and shit. This is the last thing before we get into questions by the way. During my time being fucking anxious and miserable and sad, I have pretty much not spoken to anyone online, ‘cause why would I reach out?” (laughs) “'Cause you know its like—when— I—I dunno if anyone else has the same thing thing as me, but when I'm miserable I just wanna kinda shut myself away for a bit. Not in, like, a depression way in like a—I'm literally—I think it would take too much energy. Uh, and here he is, Big Man Tommy has been fucking messaging me every day and, like, saying ‘We're talking,’ like, ‘Come talk today,’ and basically been dragging me over to my PC and making me chat to him. And it’s—it’s—” (sighs) “It’s so nice.” (thanks sub) “I—I— I get out of the shower at fucking 5 PM, after laying in bed for three hours on my phone. And the only reason I'm getting out of bed and going to my computer is because TommyInnit has said ‘Come talk to me.’ He's my best friend. He's my best friend and I used to tell him how depressing that was that I’m best friends with a 16 year old but I'm— It’s not depressing. It’s not depressing. He's a fucking legend, TommyInnit is.” (thanks sub) “He’s a fucking legend. He deserves every bit of success in the world and I’ve said that from day one. You can fucking looking at interviews with me from fucking day one when he had 100k subs. He’s a fucking legend so, yes, that’s— I’m calling out, I’m calling out TommyInnit.”

[comfortwriting]

Tied To Me - F.W

Masterlist, Writing Prompt Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Taglist

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader 

Prompt 102: Your cum flowed down his length, your insides starting to feel raw and sore from his cock pounding inside of you, you were feeling ravaged… and you were loving it.

Prompt 104: “Oh would you look at that” he laughed lightly “I can see my cock poke through your delicate stomach.”

Prompt 105: His warm sperm shot inside of your mouth, you swallowed it down, feeling it travel down your throat, filling you up.

Prompt 106: “Be careful” he warned you, fucking you faster “you know how bad I want to knock you up.”

About/Requested:  Fred and Y/N go out for a meal, Fred bumps into some investors who helped him out with his shop a few months back - the investors flirt with you and tell Fred you’re out of his league, when you get home - you’re in for the night of your life.

Warnings: 18+, smut, mention of food and eating, dirty talk/vulgar language, swearing, breeding kink, unprotected sex, belly bulging, oral (male receiving). 

"I can't believe I have never been here before, I can't believe I can actually afford this now!" Fred smiled widely, pride sparkling in his eyes.

He held your hand over the table in the warm and dimly lit muggle restaurant that played classical music during your stay. You smiled back at him and took a sip from your glass, swallowing the non-alcoholic cocktail.

"I'm so proud of you, Freddie." you stared into his prideful eyes and blushed as the waiter came over to take your orders, collecting your menus and walking off to communicate with the chefs.

"I couldn't have done it without you, love." Fred smiled, tracing circles into your palm "I'm really looking forward to our future, Y/N."

Your fancy, well presented, and mouth-watering dishes arrived, the two of you feeling slightly out of place surrounded by Rich families with perfect table etiquette and high class, a women sat across the room, playing with her pearl necklaces that rested upon her upper chest whilst her partner poured wine into his glass, the bottle costing more money than you had earned this month.

You and Fred ate your meals, discussing future plans, the taste of the food and how treats like these were more meaningful - although Fred insisted that you deserved more experiences like these and that he would make sure you experienced them more often now that his shop had become a huge success.

Drinking the last of your non-alcoholic cocktail, savouring the gorgeous taste of the raspberries, Fred asked for the bill which arrived just as fast as your drinks, he went bright red in the face realising he didn't completely understand muggle currency.

"Uh.." Fred couldn't look you in the eye, his embarrassment spreading across the room as other guests turned around to stare at him "Just give me one second."

Two tall men in suits were in the corner of the restaurant near the entrance door, talking to one another and pointing at your boyfriend when they spotted the back of his head.

"Fred-"

The two men walked through the restaurant, getting closer and closer to your table.

"I'm trying my best, Y/N," Fred stressed, staring at the change and pound notes in his wallet.

"Freddie, turn around!" You whispered, slightly worried and concerned for Fred's safety, the men looking rather intimidating in their suits, their hair slicked back with gel.

The taller man tapped on Fred's shoulder and spoke out in surprise, sounding rather surprised "Mr Weasley?!"

Fred turned around and burst into a cheeky grin, getting out of his seat and shaking their hands, getting stuck into an immediate conversation, you sat back in your chair and watched, slowly taking Fred's wallet, counting out the muggle money for him that he needed to hand to the waiter who stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses and speaking to other members of staff.

"Fancy seeing you here in a place like this!" the shorter man spoke out.

The taller man leant to the side, peering over at you whilst you counted the notes and getting the exact change of coins into the palm of your hand.

"Who is this stunning young woman?" he asked, walking over to you.

You stared up at the man who stared at you, not even two metres away from you.

"This is my girlfriend, Y/N." Fred smiled shyly, the shorter man next to him telling him how beautiful you are and how good you look tonight in your short and black, silk dress and red high heels that matched your lipstick.

"I'm Evan" The taller man outstretched his hand "It's a pleasure to meet you."

You went to grasp his hand to shake, Evan kissing you on the hand, instantly making Fred tick inside. The shorter bloke walked over and greeted you in the same way "and I'm Peter." he smiled, also kissing your hand.

Evan looked down at the notes and coins in your free hand, his mouth almost dropping to the floor "Oh Fred, you aren't making your girlfriend pay are you?"

Fred opened his mouth to speak but got cut off by his friend "It's on me, darling" he grinned pulling out a stack of notes, calling the waiter over "I'm paying for this lovely young ladies meal tonight, and her boyfriends."

The waiter accepted the cash and handed you and Fred tiny little mints for you to chew on as you left, Evan and Peter continuing to compliment you and stress how much you were out of Fred's league.

"Bloody hell! How did he manage to land you?"

"You've been dating for how long and he's not put a ring on your finger?"

"If you were my wife you'd be swept off your feet with children to look after!"

Fred wanted to rip their heads off, swing for them, demand that they clear off and never speak to either of you again - but no matter how infuriated and jealous he felt, he couldn't bring himself to do it; after all, Evan and Peter were the ones who invested in his business, to begin with.

Fred cleared his throat "I think it's time we were off, sweetheart" he pointed to the door with his thumb "got an early day tomorrow."

You nodded and put on your coat, pushing your chair in, Evan and Peter pulling you in for a hug and a friendly kiss on the cheek, encouraging you and Fred to meet them for a drink in Diagon Alley when you were available.

"Thank you again, Evan, for paying-"

"Don't mention it, Y/N! My treat!" he smiled, waving at you and your boyfriend.

"My Treat"

This pissed Fred off big time, this was supposed to be his night, treating you - not his investor swooping in and making him look like a right fool for not understanding muggle currency.

Fred grabbed hold of your hand and stormed out of the restaurant, both of you apparating home, the spinning and speed making you feel queasy and rather dizzy as you landed in your living room, falling on your sofa, the spinning slowing down and the three Fred's blending back into the one you loved.

Fred shook his head, an annoyed expression plastered across his face, he didn’t say a word and walked into the bathroom, getting himself ready for bed - Evan and Peter’s voices echoing in his mind, repeating everything they said.

“You’re too bloody good for him!”

“You’d be silly to stick around any longer without a ring on your finger.”

“I bet you’ll make a brilliant mother!”

“You’re punching, Fred, how did you manage to land her?”

“If I were you I’d propose already - before someone else snatches her.”

You walked into the large bathroom quietly, coming up behind Fred, wrapping your arms around him, resting your face against his back.

“Please talk to me,” you said softly “I don’t like it when you get in a mood and ignore me.”

Fred grumbled and unbuttoned his shirt, you pulled away and stood by his side, pulling on his arm.

“Please, Fred.”

Fred sighed and turned to look at you, shrugging off his shirt down his arms, catching it in one hand and placing it over the edge of the bath.

“I’m embarrassed, Y/N, I’m irritated, I’m pissed off.”

You nodded and stared at Fred’s chest, your eyes taking in every inch of his beautiful skin and perfect body shape.

“You shouldn’t be, Muggle money isn’t the easiest to work out - and Evan helped out anyway which was really sweet-”

“If you like him that much you should’ve gone home with him instead of me then.” He snapped, pulling his arm out of your hand and walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

You sighed and followed him, hearing the clunk of his belt hitting the floor and the zipper on his trousers being pulled down.

“Fred, I don’t understand why you’re in such a grump, you don’t need to be embarrassed, shit happens-”

“I’ve had to listen to two of my investors catch you up all night, hearing them express how much they want you, want to fuck you and get you pregnant, saying that I’m not good enough for you, how am I supposed to feel!?”

You didn’t answer, you didn’t know how to feel, you didn’t know what to think, Fred stared at you and became even more ticked off, he scoffed and pulled off his trousers, throwing them across the room, missing the laundry basket.

“I see how it is” he spoke out “You loved it, didn’t you? You loved another man treating you with his money that he has more of than he knows what to do with.”

You rolled your eyes “Oh don’t be stupid Fred! I’m not with you for your money, you know that!” you argued, pulling off your high heels and storming over to your wardrobe, placing your shoes inside at the bottom.

Fred ignored you, making you just as pissed off as he was, you could feel the tiny devil sitting down on your shoulder, whispering in your ear, encouraging you to tick Fred off on purpose, the angel on your other shoulder begging you not to do it.

But you did it anyway, and Fred couldn’t hold himself back anymore.

“You know what” you spoke up, your attitude popping out a little bit “you’re right, I should have gone home with him instead of you!”

Fred’s eyes widened, he grits his teeth and storms over towards you in his boxers, grabbing you by the waist, forcing you to look at him. You swallowed hard and looked him in the eyes, instantly regretting what you said, but also feeling your crotch flutter slightly as his hot breath beamed down on you.

“Is that what you want?” he glared “another man fucking you?”

Fred’s hand snaked to your back, his fingers gripping on the zip on the back of your dress, studying your face before he tugged it down.

“I never said that-”

“But you were implying it, weren’t you?”

“Freddie-”

Fred knew what he was going to do to you, and you knew it too, you could feel yourself getting wet at the thought and at Fred’s touch - his cock hardening in his boxers, poking out like the top of a tent.

Your dress dropped to the floor, Fred grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him, as you kicked the dress across from you across the room, his lips smashed against yours, you kissed back passionately, feeling his tongue drag against your lips, you opened your mouth and allowed him to explore you with his tongue.

You reached down and started to caress Fred’s hard cock through his boxers, Fred groaned against your lips and with his free hand, grabbed yours and pushed it under his boxers, encouraging you to wank him off - which made your crotch flutter, even more, your wetness creating a tiny puddle in your knickers.

Taking Fred’s large length in your hand, you pumped his cock gently and softly, the two of you still exploring each other's mouths until Fred became impatient, wanting to feel your lips around his cock already.

He pulled away and looked into your eyes, his full of lust and hunger “get on your knees” he ordered, pulling down his boxers as you gripped the base of his length.

“Go on, suck my cock, love.”

You smirked at him and nodded, licking up and down his shaft teasingly before taking him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock before sucking on it gently, Fred’s moans filling the room, your knickers getting even more soaked.

“Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good.”

You pushed yourself and took more of Fred’s length - almost all of it - into your mouth, the head of his cock sliding down your throat, causing you to gag as his hands held onto your head, holding you in place and trying to push you down, causing you to gag and produce more saliva - you looked up at him with your wide and watery eyes.

“That’s it, choke on my cock that’s sliding down your throat.”

Fred continued to moan out, watching you, staring you down whilst you bobbed your head, sucking on his big cock and pumping it with your hand at the same time, sending your boyfriend close to the edge numerous times before he finally pulled you off him, lifting you from his saliva coated cock by gripping onto your hair with his hand.

You gasped for air, swallowing down the pooled saliva in your mouth, wiping your lips as Fred grabbed you by the waist, kissing you again, tasting himself on your lips as his hand stroked your pussy through your knickers.

“So wet for me, aren’t you?” he smirked, feeling your wetness through the thin fabric, his finger hooking the waistband of your knickers, slowly pulling them down.

“Fred” you breathed “I didn’t mean what I said, you don’t have to prove yourself to me-”

“I don’t care” Fred growled, rubbing your clit with his finger, walking backwards and sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling you with him “sit down and fuck me.”

You climbed on top of Fred, your legs spread, slowly lowering yourself down on his saliva coated cock, helping you sit down as he slid inside of you, his cock piercing into you, his length exploring you deeply, reaching your tummy.

Your legs rested at his sides, you needed a moment to adjust to his size and then you began to slowly buck your hips, riding him, also circling your hips which Fred gripped on to keep you grounded, you gasped out loud and moan feeling his cock brush against your G-Spot.

Your fingers got tangled in Fred’s messy hair, continuing to buck your hips and bounce up and down, your breasts bouncing, you leaned back and moaned out loud, the constant brushing of Fred’s cock against your g-spot was sending you over the edge, getting you closer to orgasm.

“Freddie” you moaned out through panting, your voice high pitched “oh Freddie!”

Fred looked up at you with a smirk on his face, you moaning his name - not Evan’s or Peter’s made him feel really fucking good, he couldn’t get enough of rubbing what he had in other peoples faces - even if he was thinking about it and not fucking you in front of them, or living next door to them and fucking you so hard they had to hear your moans like he wanted, but he could imagine it, and that was the nest best thing.

Fred quickly stood up, holding you so you didn’t fall, your legs now wrapped around him, still inside you, as he turned around and placed you on the bed, your back laying against his soft sheets. Lifting up your legs, Fred placed them over his shoulders, his cock sliding even deeper inside of your, causing your mouth to open and a desperate moan to slip from your lips, Fred biting his lip at the sight of you.

“Oh would you look at that” he laughed lightly “I can see my cock poke through your delicate stomach.”

Looking down you could see the outline of Fred’s length poke through your stomach, you could feel yourself getting excited over him filling you up, your walls tightening around him ever so slightly.

“You’re so deep inside me” you whimpered, watching him start to slam in you, your moans becoming more frequent and louder.

Fred held onto your waist, his eyes bouncing across your body, focusing on your eyes, your lips, your rising and falling chest, your bulging tummy, your clit, your breasts, the sight of him fucking you - he didn’t know which detail to focus on because the whole picture was perfect.

Slamming into your wet pussy deeper and faster, the slamming filling the room with your moans and his groans, you lolled your head back and moaned out, gripping your breasts with one hand, spitting in the other so you could play with your clit, lifting your head back up and locking eye contact with Fred.

Your fingers stroking your clit, pushing you closer and closer to orgasm, feeling Fred’s cock twitch inside of you.

“Be careful” he warned you, fucking you faster “you know how bad I want to knock you up.”

Those very words were enough for you when combined with the fast, deep, and hard thrusting.

Your cum flowed down his length, your insides starting to feel raw and sore from his cock pounding inside of you, you were feeling ravaged… and you were loving it.

“Maybe you should” you teased through more panting, causing Fred to twitch again, your legs couldn’t keep still upon his shoulders, your orgasm expanding and spreading throughout your body “that way you’ll be tied to me forever.”

Fred could feel himself getting closer to the end of the race “Tied to you...” he breathed “fuck!”

As much as he wanted to plant his seed inside of you, he knew he couldn’t, not yet - he needed to put a ring on your finger first, so instead of cumming deep inside your pussy, he reached for the next best thing.

“I’m going to cum!” he panted, quickly pulling out, his hard, red, juice coated, twitching cock gripped in his hand.

You lifted your legs off his shoulders and bent them, propping yourself up on the bed, laying on your tummy, your elbows lifting you up so you could welcome Fred’s length back into your mouth, tasting your own juices.

Your lips wrapped around his cock, you sucked as you did before, bobbing your head up and down with your hand gliding up and down in sync with the rhythm, Fred watched you eagerly and couldn’t hold back.

You pushed his cock deeper in your mouth, so close to swallowing him whole as his head hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m - I’m cumming!”

His warm sperm shot inside of your mouth, you swallowed it down, feeling it travel down your throat, filling you up.

Fred slowly pulled his cock out of your mouth, he stumbled backwards, slightly dizzy and then sat down on the bed slowly, swinging his legs over so he could lie down comfortably in bliss, embracing his orgasm.

You wiped your lips and climbed into Fred’s arms, the two of you lying in silence, catching your breaths and cooling down.

“I’m tied to you, Fred.” you muttered “always have been, always will be, I only want you,” you reassured him.

Fred wrapped his arm around you “I’m tied to you too, my love” he muttered softly, kissing your head.

Tags: @amourtentiaa @xmalfoyweasleyx @horrorxweasley @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @freddiemylovelg @sebby-staan @inglourious-imagines @onlyfreds @lucymfer @pandaxnienke 

[watchmegetobsessed]

Never Have I Ever - Harry Styles

this is very random and just a lil somethin’, bc i secretly dream about being on one of these shows and meeting one of my crushes lmao, not me pretending to be at an interview in my own kitchen, hah, not at all!

hi hello so im adding this after this was posted. i randomly turned this into a series so you can find further parts for this in the series masterpost!

word count: 1.8k

pairing: Harry x actress!reader

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

“It’s so good to have you here, it’s been quite some time since the last time you sat in this chair, am I right?” Ellen asked with a warm smile as you nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve been busy, I guess,” you chuckle tugging your hair behind your ear.

“I mean, of course. You starred in two movies since then and even got nominated for an Emmy as well for your role in The Umbrella Academy!” she lists and the audience starts cheering on your successes. “Of course you’ve been busy, but I’m glad you had time to drop by for a talk. So, let’s talk about your upcoming movie. You’ll be co-stars with Zendaya and Finn Wolfhard, it’s a quite interesting cast.”

“Yes! I’m very excited to work with them, I just met Zendaya the other day and though I’M yet to meet Finn I’m sure we will get along well.”

“What was your first impression about Zendaya?”

“Oh, she is very sweet and funny, I think working with her will be more like just a fun activity,” you admit chuckling and Ellen nods in agreement.

“I bet. Alright. So let’s talk about quarantine, it was a rather huge part of the year, where did you spend it?”

“I went home to my family, so I quarantined with them in my hometown.”

“And what did you do mostly?”

“We played a lot of board games and my mom taught me to cook,” you admit with a shy chuckle.

“Yeah, we had the luck to see parts of that,” Ellen chuckles as a video of you and your mom in the kitchen appears on the big screen behind you. It was posted to your Instagram when she attempted to teach you how to make her famous meatloaf. “It seems like you are a natural talent in the kitchen.”

“Well, I haven’t burned it down, so it’s going fine,” you chuckle.

“Alright, and what else did you do? Seen any good movies or discovered some new artists in the world of music?”

“Oh, absolutely. I definitely watched everything I’ve been postponing and I got to listen to new music, so now I have a few new favorites,” you admit smiling.

“Have you been listening to Harry Styles lately?” she asks and you find the question a little odd and very… specific.

“I mean, yes, but it wasn’t anything new, I really like his music,” you admit truthfully. “He is a great artist for sure.”

“Have you been at any of his concerts by any chance?” she asks and you notice that the audience is getting a little excited over something, but you don’t pay too much attention to it.

“Not yet, but I hope it’s gonna happen one day.”

“Well, I think I can get you tickets to see him,” a voice speaks up from behind you and immediately, the audience starts cheering as your head snaps around and you see none other than Harry Styles standing behind you. Your mouth hangs open as you feel yourself blushing, he is so tall and handsome, dressed in a bright blue suit with a silver shirt underneath, smiling down at you widely as he walks around the armchairs to greet you.

“Oh shit, I was not expecting this,” you breathe out as you stand up and hug him shortly before he moves over to greet Ellen as well.

“’M glad you like my music, Love,” he smiles as he sits in the armchair next to you and you swear you see him wink at you.

“We thought you wouldn’t mind our other guest joining in,” Ellen explains Harry’s appearance.

“Not at all,” you smile shaking your head. Harry has been your celebrity crush for quite a while, but the two of you just never crossed paths, until now.

“’S very nice to meet yeh,” he nods in your way.

“Same goes for you.”

“Okay, so now that Harry is here, I thought that we could play a little game,” Ellen announces reaching for something next to her armchair.

“Oh man,” you breathe out earning a round of laughter from the audience. “Last time we played something you asked me the most embarrassing burning questions!” you whine thinking back how you had to admit that you sleep with your lights on when it’s raining outside.

“We’ll do something similar this time too,” she chuckles before handing out two round boards to you and Harry as well.

“Oh fo’ fuck’s sake!” Harry groans making the audience laugh again. “Not this!”

“I know you loved it when we played it the last time,” Ellen grins as Harry hides his face behind the board that’s now showing his I HAVE sign towards the cameras. “We’re gonna play Never Have I Ever, I think you both know the rules.”

“Yes, this is why I want to run away now,” you mumble under your breath.

“I’m going with yeh,” Harry smirks at you finally letting his board drop to his knees. Seemingly, the audience is enjoying your misery.

“Don’t be babies, it’s gonna be fun!” “For who? Not me!” Harry exclaims making everyone in the studio laugh. “Should’ve asked what we’re gonna do before I said yes.”

“Too late, Harry. Alright, let’s start,” Ellen announces as she takes her card in her hands, picking the first one and she reads the lines on it. “Never have I ever had a crush on someone I worked with.”

You huff as you turn your board so the I HAVE side is facing the camera, while Ellen has the same side showing, but Harry shows the I HAVE NEVER.

“Never?” you ask Harry.

“Well, what do yeh mean by working with?” he asks with narrow eyes as he taps on his chin.

���Anyone you had any relations with through a job.”

“Well then…” he sighs turning the board, earning some cheering.

“Okay. Never have I ever drunk texted someone and regretted it in the morning,” Ellen continues with the next question.

“Oh, too often,” you blurt out holding up the I HAVE side.

“What did yeh write?” Harry asks with a cheeky smile while he holds up the same side.

“Well, there are just too many, I can’t choose,” you admit laughing. “I often tend to write down my feelings when I had a little too much to drink and then send it without a second thought.”

“Then I better get yeh drunk to find out what yeh think about me,” Harry teases and you hear a loud “ooh” coming from the audience while you can only hope your make up covers the blush on your cheeks.

“I’d need your number for that to happen,” you say arching an eyebrow at him.

“That’s something we can easily fix,” he smirks.

“Okay, before the two of you go on your first date right away, let’s finish the game,” Ellen jokes and you both turn to her. “Never have I ever kissed someone I didn’t know.”

“What do you mean by knowing someone?” you ask to clarify.

“Let’s say you didn’t even know their name,” she adds and as you think about it, you hold up the I HAVE NEVER side first, but then flip it over.

“Oh, something popped into yeh mind?” Harry teases while he holds up the I HAVE side as well.

“I guess I just want to forget about it, but I can’t,” you admit chuckling awkwardly.

“Were you drunk or you just didn’t care to ask for their name?” Ellen questions.

“I’ve had quite a few drinks if I’m being honest. But I think he told me his name, I just didn’t catch it,” you admit.

“Poor guy, he is completely forgotten,” Harry chimes in shaking his head in a dramatic way.

“Alright, we have two more questions. Never have I ever had a friend with benefits.”

“This game sucks!” you snap as you hold up the I HAVE side, making the audience laugh. “You’re making me look like such a bad person!” you whine to Ellen.

“Don’t feel so bad, Harry is in the same shoe!” she chuckles and turning to the man on your right you see that Harry has the same side showing and a very cheeky smirk on his lips.

“How did it end?” you ask out of curiosity. You know how yours ended, in a horrible fight, because he wanted more, but you were in it just for the fun.

“Not in the best way, if I’m bein’ honest,” he clears his throat leaning back in his seat. “How about yours?”

“Same,” you nod chuckling.

“I guess it was a learning lesson for the both of you,” Ellen smirks before reading the last question. “Never have I ever ghosted somebody.”

“Shit,” you mumble, trying to hide your smirk as you hold up the I HAVE side. Harry thinks to himself before doing the same. Leaning forward he checks yours and your eyes meet for a moment.

“I think it would be an honor to anyone to be ghosted by yeh,” he teases you making you roll your eyes. “Wha’? ‘M telling the truth!” he chuckles.

“Wanna get on the list of my ghosted people?” you joke raising your eyebrows at him and he immediately holds his hands up.

“Would rather not.” He places a hand over his heart before smiling in your way sweetly. “Tha’ would break m’ heart.”

“Oh come on!” you chuckle feeling the heat crawling up your neck and cheeks as the audience lets out a soft “aww” at his words.

“Alright, thank you for playing, I think we found out some interesting things about the both of you.”

“Thanks for embarrassing us,” you add mumbling as you hand her back the board.

“It was a pleasure,” she chuckles. “We’ll be right back after a short break, please stay with us, we have more from Y/N and Harry coming right in your way, so stay tuned!” she announces as the crowd cheers.

“Friends with benefits, huh?” Harry asks smirking in your way as you fix your dress. You just shrug your shoulder trying to look casual when you feel so intimidated sitting next to him.

“Had to try it, I guess,” you admit.

“I get it,” he chuckles. “So, if I were to ask for yeh number, would I eventually be ghosted as well?”

You have to bite into your bottom lip to hide your growing smile at his attempt to flirt with you.

“We’ll see. You gotta ask for it first,” you tell him with a knowing smile, hoping to look flirty and light, not the nervous wreck that you truly feel like talking to him.

“I think my dressing room is two doors down yours, so expect me to drop by after this,” he smirks, making your heart skip a beat before Ellen starts speaking and the taping continues.

NEXT PART

[tiedyemillenialbullshit]

Nightmare

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Avenger Reader Word Count: 3,431 Summary: Your best friend finally comes to visit the compound after you join the Avengers. What starts out as a fun night out, quickly turns dire for you and Bucky. Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Feelings, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs, PTSD/Nightmares, swearing

“AHHHH Y/N!!” You hear her before you see your best friend running towards you, not a care in the world that your entire team has also turned around to watch you two galavant towards each other like long lost sisters.

You catch Sarah in your arms and spin her around.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re FINALLY HERE! And you’re early! Holy shit like I can’t believe you’re finally here in New York!! Let me introduce you to the team!” You grab her arm after she starts to show hesitance in meeting the Avengers all at once.

“Are you sure they have time? I don’t want to be a bother,” she says sheepishly.

“Oh my god Sarah, I talk about you all the time! They’re just as excited to meet you, come on.” You both walk towards the team still staring at you both near the entrance to the compound doing a quick debrief of a not-so-successful mission the day before.

“Guys, this is Sarah. Sarah this is-“ she cuts you off. “I know who you guys all are. It’s so nice to meet you! I’ll stay out of the way, I promise.” Everyone grins and introduces themselves to your best friend.

Nat smiles at you both, “On the contrary, you’re coming out with us tonight! No if’s, and’s or but’s”

Sarah seems to suddenly catch a second wind from her long flight and lets out a squeal of excitement.

You’re the newest to the “official” team, even though Steve and Fury had been trying to recruit you for years. You didn’t like the idea of the world knowing about your skill set and preferred to live a quiet life back in California. Ever since moving here, you’ve felt like maybe you weren’t home yet. Everyone was so nice and welcoming, but you missed your little house hidden in the outskirts of the National Parks in California. You missed the sun, the familiar smell of your patch of paradise and the general sense of room back home. Most importantly, you missed Sarah.

You were reluctant to invite her out to New York at first, but now that things seemed to be going smoothly, you sent for her via a car and private jet thanks to one Mr. Tony Stark. He was more than happy to help you out given your fresh and maybe sometimes bumpy arrival to the Avengers.

As everyone filed inside to break away before the evening festivities, Bucky caught your arm.

After holding you back for a second he said, “Hey, I can totally hang back tonight if you’d rather just be with Sarah and the team.”

You realize what he’s getting at. He also has some lack of feeling settled at the compound. It was something you bonded over when you first arrived. You both had similar pasts, even though they were at the same time lightyears apart.

“Buck, no. I think we’re all going out to Bleaker’s tonight! What’s a better way to get to know the team than bowling, beer, smoking inside, beer, old arcade games, more beer and maybe dancing?!”

Bucky gives you a quick glare out the corner of his eye before wrapping his metal arm around your shoulders to lead you inside after everyone.

“Fiiiiiiine, but I can’t promise I’ll behave.” You giggle, but suddenly feel a couple sets of eyes on you.

“And what do we have here?,” Tony asks with a smirk across his mouth. Sarah seems to be in the middle of an engaging conversation with Steve, so you don’t seem to have an easy out of this encounter. Bucky quickly drops his arm and steps a foot away from you.

“Uh, nothing. Y/N just seemed like maybe she wasn’t feeling well.”

“But I’m fine so here we are - have you seen Sam? Nat? Wanda? I told them we should be ready in a few hours and I jus-“

“Oh for Christ’s sake guys, your secret is safe with me,” Tony winks at you knowingly. You decide to take that as the end of the conversation and rush over to join Sarah.

“So! You have muscles.” Sarah says clearly at a loss of words looking at Steve in a tight shirt.

You and Bucky share a giggle, but pull Sarah away and save her from further embarrassment.

“What the fuck did I just say?” Sarah is about as red as a tomato as you drag her upstairs away from the awkward encounter. Steve looked a little flustered as well, which you file away in the back of your brain.

“Who cares! Let’s catch up and get ready for tonight.” Sarah is your best friend for a reason. Even though it had been 6 months since you last saw each other, it was like it was yesterday. You two spend the next few hours catching up, gossiping about each other’s families, friends, ex-boyfriends, etc.

“So! How are we doing in the boi department?” You turn around and face Sarah at the inquisitive tone in her question.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m good, I’m… I’m doing great, I mean yeah I’m good. WHY?” You’re stuttering and you don’t even care it’s obvious you’re blushing.

“Oh, you know. I mean, I’ve only recently met a few super soldiers, but I do think I can tell the there’s a spark between one and someone else.” Sarah so wants you to spill the tea but you promised Bucky you’d keep it quiet.

“Let’s just say things are developing and whatever you’d like to take from that you may.” You both launch into a giggle fit of her guessing and you denying certain aspects of Bucky Barnes.

When Wanda wanders into your room a few hours later, she starts laughing at what she sees. “You know you two are wearing like the same thing, right?” Exchanging confused looks at each other, you reply with a “AND?!”

Sam follows in with a smirk of his own. You’re bracing for his jokes but instead says “damn, OKAY! Everyone’s looking sharp tonight. Y/N, have you seen our bionic man around? Is he coming? He better come out tonight or I swear to…”

After Sam leaves to go find Bucky, the three of you wander down to find Nat and start the evening off with a shot or two. You aren’t much of a drinker, so one is enough for you. You much rather enjoy the company of your friend Mary Jane.

The team is getting silly with each other in the kitchen and quickly the room is filled with people yelling at each other to pregame harder, laughing when Nat’s little sister challenges Sam to a chugging contest and wins.

You feel a large hand at the small of your back. You can smell his cologne and know who it is immediately.

“Well don’t you look dashing tonight Sargent Barnes.” You lean in on impulse but stop yourself just as the girls turn around to see who you’re talking to.

“I was just going to say the same thing to you, sweets.” He mumbles in your ear before removing his hand and walking over to Sam.

The alcohol decides to hit you then, leaving you feeling empty that he’s not standing next to you anymore. Neither of you had wanted to have the “conversation” but you knew you were head over heels for him.

“CABS ARE HERE” screams Sam.

“Sam. For the love of God, stop watching Jersey Shore.” Natasha jokes to him.

At the same time Steve screams, “I understood that reference!” Eye rolls are exchanged as you all make your way outside.

The atmosphere is buzzing and you’re so excited to not just be out with your team, but to also have the only bit of family you had with you as well. You finally felt at home, at peace, and were ready for a fun night out.

Bleaker’s is one of those hole-in-the-wall dive bars that from the outside seems like a hard pass, but once you’re in, there’s no other place you’d rather spend a Saturday night. It’s true it started as a bowling alley in the 60’s. That still remains. What’s newer is the arcade in the back, where the old salon used to be. Jimmy bought the space next door, blew out the wall and filled it with arcade games that sometimes work and sometimes eat your money.

After years of being regular patrons, he knows your team well. The minute you walk in, he starts up all your favorite drinks.

“Ah! My best customers! I had a feeling I’d be seeing Earth’s mightiest heroes tonight.” You line up at the bar for whatever Jimmy decides you’re drinking tonight.

“Ah yes, two vodka on the rocks for my little Russian assassins. Sam here’s your vodka red bull which I don’t think you need, but here we are. Steve! Your drink of choice: an Old Style. Wanda, a cosmo for my favorite witch. And who do we have here, Y/N?”

You’re already both in hysterics at the old man behind the bar giving everybody a hard time. “Jimmy, this is my best friend Sarah. She’s visiting from California for a few days.”

“And whatever the lady wants can be put on my tab…” Steve butts in. Sarah immediately turns red but says “well in that case I’ll have vodka soda with lime please!”

Bucky has come up behind you and now you’re both laughing and watching the two of them stare at each other like no one else is in the room.

“Oh no, what did you do Y/N?”

“Let it play out, he’s not completely tripping over his words yet, maybe he’ll finally land a good girl.” You hush to Bucky.

Jimmy stares as well in amusement. “And you two? Your usual?”

“Yes’sir!” You shout over the growing music. Jimmy hands you each a jack and Diet Coke. You tell yourself it’s okay because it’s diet, but you know that’s a bunch of bullshit.

The other great thing about Bleaker’s? The dance floor downstairs. You always joke around that it seems like a nightclub that never closes in Amsterdam or something, but you’re serious. It could be 3 pm and sunny and you’d never know. It’s in the basement, it's always dark and the music is almost always too loud.

Usually that would gross you all out, but the energy tonight is pushing you all downstairs.

You reach back and grab Bucky’s hand not really caring who sees. It’s been months of sneaking around and either everyone knows and is playing it off like they don't or you’re really good at hiding it. Regardless, you’re over hiding. Maybe showing a little PDA tonight will get him out of his shell.

Sarah and Steve are no where in sight, assuming they’re ahead of you, you follow the team downstairs.

Minutes turn into hours. Everyone is dancing, laughing, sweating, screaming the lyrics to every song, and for a little while you can forget you’re a group of superheroes, and can just be normal 30-something year-olds.

You mostly dance with Bucky and quickly realize he’s a better dancer than you thought he would be. Those moves from the 1940’s must still be relevant in some way today, because the way he's grinding up on you and not caring if anyone sees just does something to you.

You work the room, finding Sarah, Wanda, Nat, even Steve for a song before you realize you don't see Bucky. You give it a few minutes thinking maybe he is in the bathroom. After 15 minutes though, you grab Steve’s attention and motion for him to check the bathroom while you check outside.

You race to the alley where you find Jimmy on a smoke break. “Hey Jimmy, have you seen Bucky? I can’t find him.”

“Oh yeah, doll, he took off in a cab about a half hour ago. Looked real flustered, but I didn’t want to press.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You thought you felt his mood shift about an hour ago, he was becoming stiff and quiet. You thought maybe he was just drinking a lot but now you’re realizing the loud music, strobe lights and base must have been triggering him.

“Ugh I’m such a bitch,” you huff as you send Steve a S.O.S text.

You: Hey, Jimmy said he just left. I'm sure he's heading home. I'm going to go find him.

Sire Captain Rogers: Go ahead. I think Sarah and I can find something to do while you find Buck. ;)

You: Yeah I’m sure you can.

You: BEHAVE. She’s my best friend.

Sire Captain Rogers: I know Y/N, don’t worry about us. Let me know when you find him.

You lock your phone and hop in a cab back to the compound.

No one is up or around when you enter through the front. The kitchen has been cleaned up, the dishes done. Probably thanks to THURSDAY, Tony’s beta bot for “cleaning up after you assholes trash the place.”

You smirk and head for the elevators. Heading straight to Bucky’s room, you can tell his light is on but something seems off. You don’t like to use your powers on friends or in the compound, but you close your eyes and reach out with your mind to find his aura. Your eyes snap open. You don’t sense him, you just see red.

Taking this as a good excuse to break into a friend’s room, you burst into the room to find it in disarray. Everything is toppled over, broken glass is on the floor, the bathroom light is on, but all you can see is his blood on the door and the floor. You’re panicked, trying to piece together what happened.

Again, you close your eyes and reach out for the familiar energy of Bucky. You find him in your room on the floor.

“What the fuck?,” you mumble and sprint up the stairs to your apartment. You shoot Steve a text on your way up.

You: Found him, looks like a bad one. I’ll let you know if I need you.

Sir Captain Rogers: Thanks Y/N. I’m just a call away, let me know if you need anything. Night.

Upon entering, you sense he’s in distress. His heart rate is elevated, he’s incredibly sweaty and is panting like a dog.

“Bucky? Buck, it’s me, it’s Y/N.”

Bucky stirs and jumps into a defensive standing position quicker than you can blink. You flip the lights on with a “BABE. Baaabe, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re in the compound. You had a nightmare.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide and alarmed, but you can tell the moment he recognizes you.

Rushing over to you, he takes you into a big hug. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you okay, did I hurt you?”

“No Bucky, no I just found you a minute ago. You had another bad one, what do you need me to do right now for you?”

Bucky stands back and rubs his swollen eyes. “I need to shower, can you help me?”

Typically, this is where it gets exciting, but you knew what he means. Water grounds him. He doesn’t feel like he’s falling in water. It helps him visualize the stress washing off of him.

You help him strip and get in the shower, but before you can even take his jeans off, he jumps in and pulls you in with him. You realize how desperate he is for whatever he’s feeling to pass and your heart sinks.

You’re both standing there, almost fully clothed holding each other. This is the worst you’ve seen him in a long time.

“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night, Y/N. The base sounded like the train, the lights looked like the machine they used on me, what the fuck.”

You aren’t sure what to do so you decide to sit on the ground and pull him down with you. You position yourself behind him so his back is in your chest. Even though he’s so much larger than you, he sinks down enough for you to reach over his shoulders and hold him.

“It’s okay Barnes, just breathe with me. You’re safe. You’re with me, and we’re home. Nobody is going to touch you. I’ve got you, you won’t fall.”

You take in deep breaths so he can match your breathing.

After about 45 minutes, the hot water is out in the tank. Bucky sits forward and turns towards you. You want him to lead right now, so you don’t say anything. Neither does he, but the look in his eyes are telling you something about tonight is different.

With a soft smile on your lips, you cup his cheek until he is really looking at you. “Hun, let’s go lay down, ya? Let me help get you dried off.” Bucky hates when you fuss over him, so when he doesn’t argue, you know to be extra gentle with him.

After getting him up and out of the shower, you think skin-to-skin contact doesn’t seem sexual right now, it feels intimate in a grounding sense, and you know that’s exactly what he needs right now. Bucky seems dazed, almost like he got hit too hard in the head. You yourself are of course a tad over-served, and are quickly realizing the adrenaline of this entire situation is rubbing off.

You get Bucky into bed and turn to make sure his phone is plugged in and that he has a glass of water, but he grabs your wrist before you can move away. “Just leave it, it’s fine.”

“Buck, just let me-“ he grabs your wrist harder.

“Y/N. Please just stay here. Please.”

The entire time you’ve been together, he’s done a lot of things but begging you for anything is not one of them. Suddenly the phone and whatever hell else you were doing doesn’t seem important anymore.

You climb into your usual spot next to him and decide maybe you’ll try to get him to open up. The moment the back of your head hits the pillow, Bucky is facing you. His pleading eyes seem like they want to tell you everything that’s going on in his head, but you know pushing him to talk will just make the nightmares come flooding back too soon.

Instead, you decide to lay on your back and pull him to lay on your chest.

“Just listen to my heart beat, Bucky.” You hear him take a deep breath and settle into your chest.

You start and stop yourself from trying to say something comforting. You’re terrified to say the wrong thing at such a crucial moment. Typically these bad episodes are reserved for a Steve house call. You realize as he’s settling into a comfortable position that he hasn’t asked you to call Steve yet. Bucky trusts you in a way you didn’t realize until now.

You don’t know when, but you start humming the first calming song that comes in your head.

I’ll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through

Bucky picks his head up to look at you. Oh fuck.

“Where did you hear that song?,” he says to you with shiny eyes.

“You sing it all the time when you’re concentrating. I looked it up and added it to my ‘bath time/relax’ playlist. I didn't know Billie Holliday was a favorite of yours."

Bucky was looking at you like maybe this was the first time he saw you, like really saw you. “My mom used to sing that around the house when she was missing my dad.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I can hum a diff-“ you’re cut off with the most searing kiss Bucky has ever given you. He’s crying when he pulls back to look at you again. “Will you keep singing it?”

In that small cafe The park across the way The children's carousel That chestnut tree, the wishing well

By the time you finish the second verse, he has physically relaxed in your arms. You continue rubbing your hand up and down his back and shoulder, stopping to play with his long hair every once in a while.

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In every thing that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

“I forgot how much I love hearing this song sung around me.” Bucky whispers so quietly you almost miss it.

I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you…

You stop your caressing when you feel him sit up on one arm.

He leans down to kiss you but stops short to whisper “I love you Y/N.” You kiss him back and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and when you say “I love you too, Bucky,” you’ve never been more sure of something in your life.

[homoose]

Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’  for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 26 part one

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes! 

I’m Coming Up So You Better Get This Party Started

The Lans arrive just in time to see Cousin Jin Zixun hassling Su She, and they wonder how he has the fucking nerve to come to a party that they are also invited to. 

Su she was invited by his new best friend Jin Guangyao, who deploys a full-on charm attack, wrapping Su She permanently around his little finger. 

Smoother than the Lanling weather that’s how he holds himself together Watch out, he’ll charm you 

Jin Guangyao grew up with women who earned their living by being charming, pleasant, and hiding their true thoughts from their clients, and he appears to have mastered this useful skill set. With Su She, he exudes confidence and authority, allowing the lesser man to bask in his attention.

With Zewu Jun he deploys helplessness and embarrassment, effectively controlling a man with much greater power than his own.

Lan Xichen confronts him about Su She's presence, and Jin Guangyao pretends he didn't know that Su She was ex-Lan. This seems super unlikely, given that JGY is good at collecting information that he can use to fuck with people, and also that he sheltered Lan Xichen from the Wens directly after Su She betrayed him.

Lan Xichen seems like he doesn't believe what JGY is telling him but then he decides to drop it, passive-aggressively saying that since JGY is uninformed, he's not guilty. Lan Xichen is actually assuming a lot here about his right to tell Jin Guangyao who to invite and who to shun, but JGY doesn't push back. Lying is so much simpler.

(more behind the cut!)

Su She wins for most unintentionally sarcastic-seeming toasting expression.

Jiang Cheng, Party Animal

Jiang Cheng arrives at the party, bringing his Jiang retinue and his bad temper. He super obviously casts around to try to find Wei Wuxian, who already told him he probably wasn't coming to the party.

Jiang Cheng is that guy who only comes to a party because the girl he likes said she was thinking about going, and then he spends the whole party saying "hey have you seen Mei Lin? She said she was going to be here but I don't see her."

Jin Guangyao formally congratulates Jiang Cheng on the Jiang clan's success in the hunt, and Jin Guangshan toasts him. As always, Jiang Cheng reacts to praise from authority figures like it's rain in the desert, smiling from ear to ear. He says that the Jiang Clan will donate the prey from the hunt to the other gentry clans. ...what?

Are we seriously saying that when these dudes go night hunting it's not just to remove dangerous bad stuff, it's for profit? 

Like, do they eat monsters? Wear their fur? Make leather from their skin? Carve jewelry from their claws? Is Jiang Cheng wearing a purple monster's skin right now? (There will be an art prompt at the end of this post)

Meanwhile, check out the way Nie Huaisang is looking at Jiang Cheng, wow.

Forecast: Hazing

Having gotten the single pleasant part of the banquet over with, it's time for the Jins to pick on the Lans. Cousin Jin Zixun goads Lan Xichen into taking a drink with him, knowing that this is (mostly) against Lan rules. Jin Guangyao tries to stop him by saying, hilariously, that it's bad to drink and fly on a sword, but CJZX waves this away and keeps pushing, saying that if Lan Xichen won't drink, it's an insult to him.

A random cultivator who is definitely on the Jin payroll backs him up, saying that teetotaling is for losers, and Captain Blowhard boisterously agrees. Loudly agreeing with powerful people is the Yao clan's signature martial arts skill.

Jin Guangyao looks embarrassed and helpless, which is, as mentioned before, his own signature skill. But he's just playing his own part in this piece of theater; everything happening at this party (so far) is happening for the benefit of the Jin Clan. Cousin Jin Zixun is an ass, but he's not actually a loose cannon, and Jin Guangshan is clearly enjoying the Lans' discomfort.

Why? This entire party, the hunt, everything he's done since the end of the Sunshot campaign, has been designed to increase and consolidate his power. His main goal is to get the Yin Tiger seal, but reducing the status of the Lans is also a good move for him. The Lans have been the strongest opponents to the use of resentful energy, and worked the hardest to conceal and contain the Yin iron in the past. If he wants to use resentful energy as part of his own cultivation, he needs them to chill. 

So this is a bit of a test; will they comply with the will of the larger group in order to avoid conflict, or will they refuse, which will allow him to label them as iconoclastic weirdos?. 

Lan Xichen takes a long look at his brother, who is expressing all sorts of emotions while keeping his face very very still. 

At a guess, he is thinking that this entire party is bullshit, that his brother's willingness to play along with these assholes is bullshit, that being viciously beaten for having a single drink in his life was bullshit, that Wei Wuxian not being here right now is bullshit.

Lan Xichen picks the "go along, get along" path, having his drink and using his magic skill of anti-intoxication to neutralize it, as he'd done previously when drinking with Wei Wuxian. 

Cousin Jin Zixun picks on Lan Wangji next, and since he cannot magically or even non-magically tolerate alcohol, there is a real risk to his reputation if he drinks. But Lan Wangji breaks rules when he feels like it, not when people tell him to. He pointedly ignores the offered drink while Lan Xichen looks worried. 

The rest of the party guests have a wide variety of reactions, none of them helpful, to these shenanigans. Jin Guanshan's son and heir watches with calm interest as the power dynamics play out.

All of this is actually not great strategy for the Jins. The Lans don't play little social games to gain power, because all that time they spend not drinking, not gossiping, and not doing other stuff? Is spent cultivating and practicing sword and musical battle forms. The Lan Bros are overwhelmingly powerful as individuals, and embarrassing them won't change that.

It's moot, ultimately, because Wei Wuxian chooses this moment to arrive.

Darkness Visible

Wei Wuxian actually made a big impressive stair-climbing entrance to Jinlintai a few minutes ago, with camera work echoing Lan Wangji's stair climb at the Wen Indoctrination Bureau from several episodes back. 

But nobody was around to see that, other than us, and when he appears at the party it's in stealth mode; he steps into the frame from out of nowhere, and drinks Lan Wangji's unwanted drink.

Lan Wangji responds by looking at him like this for the next several minutes.

Wei Wuxian doesn't have time for their usual sport of Extreme Gazing, though; he came for a reason, which is to find and rescue Wen Ning. He gets right to it, asking Cousin Jin Zixun where he's keeping him.

Jiang Cheng, who is the king of worrying about the wrong fucking thing, jumps up to try to stop Wei Wuxian from talking. Like, seriously, he's ok with the Jins trying to take his clan's special extreme weapon, but he's not ok with his head disciple being rude in order to fulfill a whopper of a life debt--Jiang Cheng's life debt, in particular--or being rude in order to preserve the clan's independence.

Jin Guangshan decides this is a good moment to bring up the Yin tiger amulet. Wei Wuxian pushes back, hard, pointing out exactly what Jin Guangshan is doing. He says he's setting himself up to be a new Wen Ruohan. 

Lan Wangji pays close attention to Wei Wuxian's reasoning here, and so does Nie Mingjue, unless he’s just trying to mask his confusion. 

Jiang Cheng is too busy being horrified to listen, apparently. Or he just doesn’t agree, preferring to be reduced to a secondary authority, rather than defy a primary authority.

Wei Wuxian is, of course, all about independence; he was literally born to be a rogue cultivator, despite being dubbed “patriarch” himself, not long after this. 

Let’s Go Crazy Let’s Get Nuts

Wei Wuxian gets tired of the scene and decides to lose his temper. He makes a show of being enraged, and he genuinely is angry, but I don't think he's out of control, this time.  

He acts like he's out of control in order to scare everyone, but he makes his points very clearly, reminding everyone that he has power they don't have, that he's good at killing, that he's not patient, and that his teeth are nicer than everybody else’s. 

Everybody in the room freaks out to one degree or another--except Jin Guangshan, who is apparently too pissed off to be scared.

It's hilarious that Jin Guangshan thought he was going to get Wei Wuxian to hand the Yin Tiger amulet over by creating a complex system of social pressure against him. Wei Wuxian's favorite way of responding to social pressure is to escalate it into violence, regardless of the consequences; he's been doing that at least since Gusu Summer School and probably a lot longer. Jin Guangshan should know this, given how many beatings his son has taken from Wei Wuxian over the years.

Wei Wuxian does a fantastically sexy scary, theatrical countdown, and Cousin Jin Zixun caves in and gives him the information he wants. It's worth noticing that even under threat of death, CJZX doesn't comply until he visually checks in with his clan leader. He’s genuinely a bad person, yes, but he’s a loyal soldier, which is what most of these clans value most. 

As soon as he gets what he wants, Wei Wuxian is perfectly, smugly, in control of himself again. Everyone in the room is still stunned and afraid, so Jin Guangshan has achieved that much, at least; nobody likes Wei Wuxian having the Yin tiger seal now, including Jiang Cheng. 

As he leaves, Wei Wuxian has one of those conversations with Lan Wangji in which everything is said in glances in the course of a couple of seconds. 

WWX: I love you, I have to leave you; I've got some shit to take care of and I won't be coming back to all of this. 

LWJ: I love you; I'm probably going to have to fight you; your funeral is going to be so upsetting

Wei Wuxian turns away from everyone, and you can see the weight settling on his shoulders, as he contemplates the choices he just made and the choices that are still ahead of him. 

Jin Guangshan, for the first and only time, loses his temper in front of everybody, literally flipping a table because he's so mad about what just happened. 

Art prompt: Jiang Cheng wearing an outfit made of a Chinese mythical creature. Bonus points if it’s a qilin. Bonus bonus points if Zhang Qiling (from DMBJ/Lost Tomb franchise) is standing next to him looking grumpy while Jiang Cheng wears an outfit made from a qilin. 

Soundtrack: Get This Party Started by Pink, Charm Attack by Leona Naess, Let’s Go Crazy by Prince. 

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

fine line - a close reading

gonna cry bc i’m at the end, gonna cry bc it’s fine line.

(x x x)

want to give the same disclaimer as with lights up: this song is so layered, so multi-faceted, that i could never hope to give an exhaustive analysis. due to its vagueness and openness for interpretation, i assume that everyone, just like me, has their own ideas about it and has attached importance to it in ways that no one else’s words can or should alter. this song means the world to me for reasons that aren’t necessarily in this post, and that’s how it is with art that touches us deeply. i’ve tried my best to pull it apart, lay it bare, spread it open, if you will, so it’s almost as free as it can be for you all to form your own opinion on it. in the synthesis i will make my own conclusions, but feel free to ignore that if yours are totally different. i’m just one set of brain and heart taking in fine line and projecting whatever i think is right onto it. alright, let’s go

fine line, track 12

sung in falsetto

live version at the form: first verse not sung in falsetto - after first chorus goes into falsetto - like “thinking of her” has summoned her

live version at the form: first verse not sung in falsetto - after first chorus goes into falsetto - like “thinking of her” has summoned her

Put a price on emotion

pouring emotions into the art you create: how much is genuine / how much do you show - line between being authentic to your audience and giving away too much, wanting to keep things to yourself and not feeling truthful with what you’ve written

exploits of the industry: lay your soul bare - or the exact opposite, some pretend emotion - to score that hit

I'm looking for something to buy

cynical. emotions aren’t genuine, right? where can i go buy some?

～ lights up themes. fake life, industry, being a sell-out

You've got my devotion

But man, I can hate you sometimes

“you” = career, music, Harry Styles™. devoted to the craft, to the job, all the ups and downs of it, despite the hardships it brings 

“man” is deliberate: can be seen as an offhand interjection, like “man, that’s rough”, but nothing is casually placed in this song. “man” is: The Man, the heads in the industry, the people pulling the strings. The man in Harry, the man he’s been in the media all these years, the part he’s played/had to play, the man that’s in him

⟶ “hate you”: hate for industry shit, self-hate created by having to play pretend (～ only angel analysis, the persona of the Bukowski womaniser)

“sometimes” - it’s not fucked up all the time

“you” could also be a lover, but the sudden “hate” there then would be for that person, which is absent in any other song about them, doesn’t make any sense

I don't want to fight you

And I don't want to sleep in the dirt

like there’s a choice to me made, but he doesn’t want to make it: either I fight this “you” or I sleep in the dirt

“you” as the industry: if he doesn’t fight them, he might end up being a beggar, lose all his self-worth bc he gave in to everything they asked/told him to do

“you” as himself: fight your instincts, part of who you are/the persona. if he doesn’t fight to figure himself out, though, he fears he’ll also lose

“sleep in the dirt” as a sense of rejection, as well

We'll get the drinks in

So I'll get to thinking of her

drinks to cope - falling, only angel, from the dining table - or to be braver and confront emotions better - tbsl

who is “we”? who is “her”?

narrative of “you” as “lover” further disproven: if “I” and the lover get together over drinks and “I” starts thinking of “her”?

⟷ “her” could be the lover, but then who is “you”? the industry? some other person, besides that lover, harry is devoted to? multiple lovers, all of a sudden? no.

⟶ “I” and “you” are all harry, that get to thinking of “her” because she is in daydreams with him. the narrative that harry is fighting a part of him, the persona he has (had) to play bc of industry limits, makes most sense. that persona is within him now, and part of his work, but all of him, “we”, is begging to come into the light - of which she is a huge part

We'll be a fine line

balancing act. let everything coexist but pay attention that those lines don’t get crossed the wrong way. what we are, what i am, is a fine line between what makes us go under and what lets us thrive

we will be: determination to fulfil this prophecy, statement of fact “we always will be”

“we’ll be a fine line”: other way of interpreting it is that on both sides of that line is what entails “we”, all that is harry. what merges on that fine line is where it’s just right, when harry is fully himself in every way

“fine line” can also be an echo of criticism, bigotry, in the style of: it’s a fine line between being simply flamboyant and queer, between dressing like that and people thinking you’re a transvestite or summat (cause we wouldn’t want that, now, would we) - “we’ll be a fine line” could be owning all of it. putting himself in the middle of all those messy lines, as someone queer without a category

Test of my patience

patience with himself - kindness to self - took a long time to figure shit out and it was a challenge

waiting for change: industry and its allowances/openness

There's things that we'll never know

my favorite line

“we” = harry / harry and company / us in general, all of us listening 

～ tpwk “i don’t need all the answers”: deep sense of acceptance

peace to be found in accepting this!!

You sunshine, you temptress

“sunshine” - as in all the love songs (blue skies, sunflowers, summer days…): lover - possible that there are multiple “you”s in this song?

sunshine could ofc also be directed at the temptress, still

female “temptress” - “i’ll get to thinking of her” - she - it’s tempting for harry to think of her all the time, to lose himself in the “her” in him

other interpretation for “temptress”: woman he knows with negative influence in his life - resemblance to woman “you flower, you feast”, so echo of Bukowski ～ only angel, kiwi (my sunshine, my love, who is involved with this temptress…)

My hand’s at risk, I fold

⟷ tpwk “dropping into the deep end”

not showing his cards just yet / forfeits

anxious to show all of him, to take the chance, with all the risks and consequences involved

Crisp trepidation

I’ll try to shake this soon

nervousness, anxiety - about (not) taking (enough) chances, (not) laying himself bare (release of the album that reveals much more than before)

“crisp” fresh, this feeling is unfamiliar - change is coming “soon”

sense of agency: I can get rid of this feeling by my own volition and make these changes - hesitant, insecure: “try”

wants to be braver. he’s not going back, but still needs to calmly coax himself further and further into the light, out into the open (“we’ll be alright”)

Spreading you open

Is the only way of knowing you

(can anyone else hear “spread thin” like a whisper under “spreading”? or am i imagining things.)

“you” is back - the only way of knowing “you” is to spread them open - the physical

to spread someone open - very literal, don’t need to paint the picture, or to lay bare, to lay it all out 

⟶ “you” as himself - the only way of knowing who i am is by doing this: writing this album, performing these songs, letting others listen in and form their own interpretations, let this world grow where i’m laid bare and OPEN and exist as this person who has issues, who is angry, who doesn’t know who he is a lot of the time, but is still so happy to be here - let it spread and let it all circle back to me so i can grow deeper into myself

We'll be a fine line

We'll be alright

“we” = h & self, h & lover, h & fans

collectiveness from tpwk

(notes on a piano sounding like drops, like he’s emerged from the water and dripping dry)

SYNTHESIS

Everything about this song is plural. Personal pronouns are all over the place. I, you, her, we. The sound is incredibly layered, with Harry’s own voice echoing through its verses like he’s singing to himself in an empty cave. Meanings can be attached to every word like it’s a wax tablet used too many times. What Harry has said in interviews for once holds pretty true to the actual meaning, in my opinion. 

“It felt like it described to me the process of making it and how the album felt in terms of the different kinds of songs on it.” (Capital FM)

This can mean a lot of things, and I think it means all of the things, of course. It means Fine Line is a summary of all of his emotions he visited on the album, of the things he’s laid bare. And it means that the actual process was also described, as one that can be frustrating and challenging, with added industry shit. 

Harry has expressed straightforward gratefulness to his label for "leaving (him) alone” while making the album and that speaks volumes. This time, he had the chance to make his art without the constant interference of a label, which meant he could weave in criticism as well. “Put a price on emotion” is first and foremost a critique on the industry. It’s the first line of the song, setting the tone for the interpretation of this song is about the risks I took while making this album. It involves criticism on an industry that creates such an atmosphere that only a certain type of music and artist breaks through or can be successful, that limits people in their personal expression. Convinces them that it’s better that way. That it’s better to hide who they love because the general public won’t accept them. That it’s better to create a song about a fake emotion than be honest. Harry loves writing songs and being on stage, but it’s taken a while for him to be fully comfortable there as a solo artist and bloom into the person that could make Fine Line. He loves his career, but it’s also limited his freedom in ways beyond our comprehension, and it’s exploited him to the point where he didn’t know who he was, in ways that have clearly taken a toll on his mental wellbeing. To a point where he finishes this album reassuring himself, most of all, that everything will be alright.

That process of making Fine Line obviously includes Harry confronting emotions he hadn’t before. He has stated that he experienced the highest highs and the lowest lows while making it. There are things he hates, he was fighting but doesn’t want to (anymore), uncertainties he was trying to figure out but had to accept he couldn’t, risks he still doesn’t know he can take without shaking. At the centre of it all is this sense of “knowing you.” The different personal pronouns in the song paint a fractured picture, which is ultimately deliberate. That the “you” Harry is devoted to and can hate sometimes doesn’t line up with “her,” that the end focus does seem to be this “you” that is mentioned in the same breath as “man” and “temptress,” forming the “we” together with “I”. 

After having songs like Lights Up, She, Falling and even TPWK, one of the central themes on the album has undoubtedly been self-discovery, in all its pain and glory. There are no female pronouns on the album besides, obviously, in She, and then here, in Fine Line. She is about a man living with a woman “just in his head”, who “sleeps in his bed while he plays pretend.” It is very clearly a trans narrative, the story of someone struggling to put into words what they’re experiencing in terms of gender. To a point that they fantasise about running away. Fine Line brings the ideas of knowing what it all means, which Lights Up kicks off (“do you know who you are?”), Falling deepens (“what am I now?”) and Treat People With Kindness turns on its head (“I don’t need all the answers”), together. Harry is still doubtful, and the questions asked earlier in the album haven’t disappeared, but he has accepted that “some things we’ll never know.” His aim, however, is still “knowing you.” 

To have Fine Line, as the summary of these emotions of self-growth and self-discovery, echo that one female pronoun, speaks volumes. It is a direct reference to She, to that story about gender. “Her” in this song refers to “she (who) lives in daydreams with (him).” The one who still only fully comes out when they’ve had a drink. The one he’s still working to include in who he is, as he tries to figure out who he is, all of it. The song where he sings in falsetto, just like on Fine Line. Of which he sang the first verse an octave lower live at the forum, switching between those voices, those perspectives. That’s also why “you” in this song is also Harry to me. We get this fractured sense of self, this “I” and “you” conversing over a drink, this “you” Harry is devoted to and wants to figure out. “You” and “I” form “we” and all of them are Harry. The lines are blurry on purpose, there is no way to figure out where “you” ends and “I” begins. 

“You sunshine, you temptress” is the most enigmatic line in that respect, and to me blurs those lines even more between the pronouns. “You” is suddenly also identified by a female noun. And no this isn’t about some kind of love triangle. “Sunshine” aligns with all the odes to his lover in the rest of the album. So what does that mean? That there are multiple “you”s in this song, meaning that Harry is addressing both his lover and a temptress? So “her” he’ll get to thinking of, the only other female pronoun used in the song, is identified as a temptress, but tempting to do what? To take risks? And no I won’t forget the “man, I can hate you sometimes,” where "man” is not a casual interjection but an identifier of “you.” 

Or is it an echo of “the light” from Golden’s “bring me back to the light” and Light’s Up’s “step into the light”? So that the “sunshine” symbolises being in the clear, being out of the darkness running through his heart, the darkness caused by not knowing who you are. “You sunshine,” you beacon of light. “You temptress,” risk-taker and source of anxiety. You, one I need to spread open to figure out, to know about, source of happiness and despair, one I’m devoted to but also hate. You, man, you, temptress. You there, in the mirror looking back at me. 

All of you, and myself included, we’ll be a fine line. And we’ll be alright.

This song is about all of that. The self in art, the self on its own, the other, the journey, the chances, the fears, the passion. Hope. Reassurance. Confidence. And, most importantly, that everything will be alright in the end.

x

read all my lyric analyses here

[theepisceswriter]

Jealous!Reader with AOT characters pt.2 (Porco, Bertholdt, Pieck, Zeke)

A/N: y’all really liked the first one I made here, so here’s a pt.2 with different characters

TW: none really apply, sort of suggestive for Zeke, Modern AU, GN!reader

PORCO GALLIARD

I am a firm believer that in a modern AU, Porco and Reiner would be the type of people to go to sport restaurants like Hooters, Buffalo Wild Wings, or Twin Peaks. They give me that macho man type of vibe. Of course though, Porco would make you tag along with him almost every time he went. He feels that it’s a very nice way for the two of you to bond. Which honestly it is.

You have a deep sense of security within yourself and enough trust in Porco to not be bothered by the waitresses there, as you should, knowing that it’s only their job to be enticing like that. Hell, you even enjoy it when the waitresses would flirt with you sometimes or you’d get the really pretty ones who look like they’re straight off of a magazine. Not to mention that you visit places like this often, so most of them know you and know that you and Porco are in a relationship together.

They all respect your boundaries and don’t try to push at them at all.....until this one waitress comes around. You can quite obviously tell that her flirting is different from the “trained” flirting that the other girls often do. She lingers at your table a little longer than she should be trying to talk to Porco to the point where other waitresses have to tell her to go check on other tables and she’s disregarding you completely, asking Porco questions that should be aimed at you and being very rude in general.

Porco is hardly paying her any mind, too focused on the game to really pay attention to what’s going on, but any piece of attention he gives to her she latches on too it. But still, you remain cordial and calm on the inside. Not wanting to come off as one of those significant others and cause a scene that doesn’t need to be caused. If someone looked at you for too long they might notice an eye twitch or two coming from you.

Really it’s Porco’s hand holding underneath the table that’s keeping you sane and reminding you of how secure your position in your relationship is. You almost calm down entirely, but of course the waitress has to come back and try desperately to get his attention again. At one point he zones out into the game and to try and get his attention she attempts to tap him on his shoulder.

Strong on the attempt because you grabbed her wrist before she could even brush her fingers against his shirt and gave her a stern “Aht! Aht! That is not going to be happening tonight and definitely not in front of me.”

And Porco, this menace to society, finally speaks up like, “I was wondering when you were finally going to say something. I was getting afraid that I didn’t mean anything to you anymore.” He would’ve eventually intervened himself though if she was actually successful in touching him.

The waitress gets the hint for the rest of the night, but just incase she doesn’t he holds you close to his side with his arm draped over your shoulders.

BERTHOLDT HOOVER

Despite his soft spoken nature and personality that sometimes falls on the shy part of the spectrum, Bertholdt is actually an easy person to come up to and start a conversation with. Of course, you have to be the one to start the conversation, but after that it’s like he can’t shut up, likes he’s compelled to answer back to everything and keep a conversation going.

It’s a trait of his that you’ve come to love, but also come to hate on days when you’re out in public with him and can just see the twinkle in a girl’s eyes when she’s getting ready to come over to him to flirt. It’s usually in awkward situations too like when you’re out shopping and he’s standing off to the side because he has no business looking at what you’re shopping for, so the fact that he’s kind of alienated from you and doesn’t know how to respond to flirting all that well in the first place really has him in an awkward chokehold.

He’ll get asked for his number and instead of saying flat out no, because he doesn’t want to be harsh, he struggles to let words out at all as he tries to think of what to say. And people really prey on his shyness and don’t even give him the chance to respond before they’re forcing themselves on him more, handing their phone out to him just waiting to input a number.

Imagine the shock and anger on your face when you turn around from your shopping happy ready to show Bertholdt what you got and instead you see a girl trying to get his number! You’re over there in an instant, legs carrying you as fast as they can and a scold on your face as you go over there and the first thing you do is push that phone as far away from him as you can.

“I know my BOYFRIEND and something tells me that he is not interested in the direction this conversation is going with you whatsoever, so I suggest you leave him alone before I make you 😤” The girl leaves like immediately after that.

Bert is just behind you the whole time with a ☺️ look on his face like “Yes, that is indeed my significant other!” Which is so funny because he’s like 6’3 and towering over you, but you’re the feisty one!

He does feel kinda guilty for not cutting off the interaction before it got that far, so he wraps his arms around you and nuzzle his face into your neck all like, “I’m sorry baby 🥺🥺 you know I don’t like anyone else but you 🥺🥺 I was trying to tell them no thank you but it wouldn’t come out 🥺🥺”

You couldn’t stay mad at him even if you wanted to, that’s all it takes for you to forget about it altogether.

PIECK FINGER

It’s almost impossible to see someone as fine looking as Pieck and not shoot your shot. If I saw Pieck out in public the first thing I would do is shoot my shot.

It happens allll the time whenever you two go out. Out at the mall shopping for clothes? Someone’s going to come up to you two and try to hit on Pieck. At the club minding each other’s business and trying to have a good time? Some guy is going to come over and try to ruin that for you too.

At first it was like a bragging rights thing for you. Everyone noticed your hot girlfriend was hot but you were the one who went home to her everyday and not them, but at some point it switched from a bragging right to down right annoying. It’s like you can’t leave her alone for more than a couple of seconds because here comes someone breathing down her neck being a weirdo!

Poor Pieck doesn’t even know what’s going on half of the time because she be baked out of her mind, thinking about nothing but how some ruffles and ice cream can really hit right now. So she’s just going along with the conversation like “mhm, yeah ☺️” every ten seconds hoping that they’d get the hint that she’s not thinking about them at all and to leave her alone. But, of course, they don’t.

Her body language becomes stressed out and agitated, not knowing what to do because you’re in the gas station buying snacks for the two of you while she’s far away at the gas pumps doing her best to get an ending with this weirdo where they don’t kidnap her.

Luckily, just on time you exit out the gas station and even before you get any closer to Pieck you’re already pissed off at the fact that someone is probably hitting on her, but after you see her do that awkward little shuffle with her feet signifying that she’s uncomfortable? You’re over there in a heartbeat.

See, maybe you would’ve been a bit nicer if her body language didn’t tell you that they had been pestering her for a while despite how everything about her screamed ‘not interested.’

So what do you do? You take the bottle of sprite you bought and bop them on the head with it. Head empty no thoughts just ‘protect my stoner girlfriend.’

Pieck is so messy too, she’s in the background like “Ohhhhh shit *giggle* fight! Fight! Fight!” You were ready to rumble too, but if you were so ready to hit them in the head with a sprite bottle the other person definitely didn’t want to know what else you were confident with doing. So they recuperated from their sprite bottle hit and went running to their car.

This was a proud girlfriend moment for Pieck the whole drive home. She could not stop talking about how much of a badass you were and how she loved that you would do anything for her.

ZEKE JAEGER

I wrote soft Zeke already, so now it’s time for me to give y’all the menace Zeke y’all have been waiting for.

Zeke is the type of significant other who’s big on teasing and messing with his partner is general. There’s something about seeing them all flustered after he does something to embarrass them, like fake propose to them in public or something, that really cracks him up. That being said, he’s not opposed to flirting with someone in front of you to get you riled up and see your reaction.

Let’s set the scene; He drags you to Sam Ash with him, because we’ve all just collectively decided that modern day Zeke is a music pretentious asshole, to go get something for his guitar or at least that’s what you assume he was complaining about. You weren’t even listening, just excited to go and mess with the drums and guitars there. It’s the first thing you do once you get there and Zeke sees this as his opportunity to finally mess with you.

He goes over to the drum set display you’re playing on and calls over and employee with “inquiries” about the set you’re playing on. He pretends to ask a few genuine questions at first but eventually he’s able to get the conversation to shift to something a little more personal. Which isn’t terrible, but once he starts throwing out lines like “Oh you like (said band)? I’ve always found myself gravitating towards people who like them. They’re always the most attractive people, I’ve found 😏.” Is when you start getting agitated.

You’re just trying to play We Will Rock You on the drums and here he goes killing your vibe immensely. And it’s hard to ignore when they’re standing right on the side of you. Not to mention how the employee is eating all of this up, blushing and all. It’s at the first mention of numbers being exchanged that you’ve decided you’ve had enough. Without a word to Zeke you get up and storm out of the store.

Was this a dick move on his end? Absolutely, but you’re a couple who’s relationship is filled with debating and bickering, bickering especially, so part of him thought you would play along with his little game and be like “Whatever. I don’t care.” But instead, you were genuinely upset. You didn’t even know where you were going but you were going somewhere. And that somewhere was the outside of the Sam Ash store because you realized you really didn’t have a choice.

Sorry guys, but I have to switch over to soft Zeke now.

He comes running after you, “y/n! Y/n it was a joke!” But that just makes you even more mad and oops, a year drops down your face and he feels terrible.

Kisses all over your face, words of assurance spilling out his lips, and a tight ass beat hug.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m such a dick I know. I didn’t mean to make you this upset though.” He would get down on his knees if he had to!

I guess you can forgive him just this once, but only on the terms that you get Sub!Zeke tonight and get to act as a pillow princess/prince cause he has a lot of making up to do.

[winderlylandchime]

2/2*points to the art* YOU SEE THAT?? IM LIKE 89% SURE IS BRIAN! That’s right BRIAN! His BOYFRIEND! Who I’m sure will be here any minute now! WHY ARE YOU GIVING HIM FREE ART? FOR A SONG?!?! Justin, i will personally give you a performance of Row your Boat just stop talking to him, NO JUSTIN! NO YOU WILL NOT GO TO HIS APARTMENT’ ‘Debbie, I swear to God, you better be fucking nice about Ben because otherwise I’m jumping through this tv and turning this show into an episode of CSI’ He is so over this episode that I swear I can see smoke coming out of him. He has no clue what’s coming. ‘My man who are you trying to impress? Your grandpa is somewhere calling you a bitch right now. *mock Ethan in a childish voice* not even your rich successful boyfriend.. THATS CAUSE HIS BOYFRIEND KNOWS THAT ART IS AN ESCAPE YOU LITTLE PRETENTIOUS FUCK. Your jealousy is showing, we get it you got your couch off a street and you wish you were Brian. Oh he had a boyfriend? You’re telling me someone actually willingly spent time with him? Correction: youre telling me that he somehow had a boyfriend that sounds just like Brian? bitch who the fuck are you trying to play right now? justin and I are smarter than this, we see right through the bullsh-i hope that picnic gives you diarrhea’ ‘HE WAS IN THE HOSPITAL FOR THREE DAYS? THREE WHOLE FUCKING DAYS?! AND HIS MAN IS NOW ON SOME OTHER MANS FLOOR EATING CHEESE? AND JUSTIN STILL DOESNT KNOW HE VISITED EVERY DAY?! IM ABOUT TO FUCKING BURN THIS PLACE DOWN TO THE GROUND. THREE FUCKING DAYS! fuck this whole fuck- your man is dying and you still wanna kiss Brian? If i was Ben, id die just to make him feel bad.’ ‘Oh so Justin spent a day with that cello fucker and now he’s coming to Brian with inspiration..i have a feeling this won’t end good or maybe it will gotta stay positive! HELL YEAH BRIAN! Eat and fuck on the floor and make him forget that little weirdo. Oh damn it, was it because he said romantic? THEYRE CUTE! WHY ARE THEY RUINING THINGS…Justin, no offense but 31 is not too old to fuck around. I should know. He’s acting like he should be in retirement home already. *looks at me sad* this is the beginning of the end isn’t it? Please tell me, that next episode that little shit disappears mysteriously.’ He is bouncing his leg so much that the entire couch is shaking. ‘DEB! AND BEN! Debbie, please be nice, ive been so disappointed already. Is this..is this the beginning of something nice between them?’ He is very happy that Emmett didn’t accept the check and he keeps saying that Pickle Guy is smiling at him right now. *jumps in the air* ‘ow. DEBBIE AND BEN LOOK AT THEM! FUCKING FINALLY! Thank god something good happened, i was losing my mind. Okay so basically for her to be nice to you, you almost gotta die..noted’ And he once again groaned so loudly that Im sure the neighbor heard him ‘WHY IS HE BACK! JUSTIN WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU HERE?! Asshole neighbors? My dude, youre the asshole. JUSTIN STOP LYING. You never even liked violin music?! Who are you and what have you done with the Justin from season 1 and 2 because this is bullshit. he came for his song? Justin, just put a cd on in BRIANS LOFT! Romantic?! Justin…for fucks sake what the hell. I wanna puke. I don’t have enough pills to watch this. What is he doing? justin sit your ass back the fuck dow- JUSTIN NO JUSTIN NO JUSTIN NOOOOOOOOO YOU FUCKING CHEATING ASS BITCH! YOU MADE THE RULE! YOU BROKE IT ONCE YOU BROKE IT TWICE! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS FUCKING SHIT? I’ve never been more grossed out by a kiss before. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUSTIN?! i am actually really fucking sad right now. I hate this fucking shit. He’s actually CHEATING. This is cheating. This is… i can pretend that nerd kiss was him doing him a favor but this? He’s been toeing the line for the whole episode. HE CHEATED BC OF A VIOLIN. BRIAN PLAYED GUITAR IN THAT ONE EPISODE and no offense to cello players everywhere, guitar is way hotter! Man, fuck this shit and fuck him too’ He then proceeded to call our mom and the only thing i heard him say was ‘please don’t hang up, i will actually cry’

Um, I really need to go back and watch these episode again because:

YOU SEE THAT?? IM LIKE 89% SURE IS BRIAN! That’s right BRIAN! His BOYFRIEND! <- Very likely but I never paid close attention. Holy shit.

hope that picnic gives you diarrhea I AM DYING

HE WAS IN THE HOSPITAL FOR THREE DAYS? THREE WHOLE FUCKING DAYS?! AND HIS MAN IS NOW ON SOME OTHER MANS FLOOR EATING CHEESE? AND JUSTIN STILL DOESNT KNOW HE VISITED EVERY DAY?! IM ABOUT TO FUCKING BURN THIS PLACE DOWN TO THE GROUND. THREE FUCKING DAYS! Oh look it is the song of our people, the anthem of the fandom. THREE FUCKING DAYS

H'e actually cheating - oh brother anon, oh brother anon.

He called your mom... oh sweet child.

[aereres]

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

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

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

Word Count: 18,4k (damn)

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

Chordback needed her. More than anything.

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

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

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

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

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

“Chucky!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To say she felt uncomfortable was an understatement.

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

“Let him go, he needs to cool off,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drinks are on us,”

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said I don’t know anything,”

“Matthew?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry about it,”

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

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

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

That night, Deborah struggled to fall back asleep.

-----

“You’re gonna catch a cold,”

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

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

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

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

“The night is lonely,” the assistant pointed.

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

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

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

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

“Life, I guess,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One a.m.”

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

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

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

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

“An hour, maybe?”

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

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

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

What the fuck had just happened?

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s her name, man?”

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

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

“Did she like it?” Elias asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We need to talk,”

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

And, God. She hated it so much.

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

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

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

“Good morning,”

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

“Where are the guys?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled. “You going back home?”

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

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

“What about you? Are you going home?”

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

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

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

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

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

Then who the hell was Taryn?

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

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

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

“Oh,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Only if the tickets are on me,”

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

“Grandma?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, he’s great,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re right, son,”

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

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

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

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

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

“Should I wear a tie?”

“Oh, God,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Debs! Happy Thanksgiving!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dinner is served, everyone!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodnight, Matthew,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good night, Debby,”

-

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

“You’re gonna catch a cold, again,”

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

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

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

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

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

For Matthew, though, Deborah was willing to wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll be your new pilot,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How did you find out?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I promise,”

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

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

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

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

“Of course you will,”

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve got it,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the hell was happening with Matthew?

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

“And we’re done,”

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

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

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

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

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

“Deb-”

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

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

“Debby, can we-”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course. Heading out?”

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

“Deborah, wait,”

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

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

“What do you mean what’s up with me?”

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

“What the fuck are we doing, Matt?”

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

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

“And all the radio interviews during-”

“Flowers for Deborah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I’m scared he’ll hate me,”

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

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

“I just- I don’t know what to do,”

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

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

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

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

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

It was a song.

Matthew had written her a song.

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

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

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

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

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

“Deborah?”

“You wrote me a song?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you expect from me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[emisonme]

This will be big but i felt like sharing my thoughs. I love camila, so so much…but I feel like sometimes people are praising her too much. Camila loves fame, no matter how many of you deny it, it’s pretty obvious that she does. I’ve seen plenty of arguments on twitter regarding the 4H vs C topic and I can’t help but notice some people saying stuff like “camila didn’t choose to be in this position”, “all the girls treated her like shit when it wasn’t even up to her decide”. Well obviously I know the feud between the 5H girls was fake, but it really messes with me that people still continue to paint camila as the victim. Even tho camila may have not betrayed the other girls as they tried to make it seem, she sure as hell accepted this full of privileges position she was given since the beginning. And I’m not saying this is a bad thing, because honestly which one of us would deny such opportunity, if we were in her place? But most of us and I’m also talking about me, tend to forget that camila is also a person who has negative traits, not only positives. Unfortunately one of her biggest negatives, is that she grew to love the spotlight. And if you really think about it, it makes sense since she was always so shy around people and when she got a taste of the “pop star” life, she felt mesmerised by it. From my point of view, as soon as she got that taste she also started craving the “bigger” things. Big arena concerts, awards, people loving her. For example lauren might love her job as an artist, but she undeniably hates the fame that comes with it. She’s just in it because she truly wants to share a piece of her soul and justify the definition of a true artist. And I’m not saying that mila is not, she sure as hell wants to create art. But if you ask me, the difference between these two is that lauren would be completely content with singing in a room full of people who simply appreciate her art, whilst camila would prefer to be in an arena full of people who sing her songs and scream her name. Not that laure wouldn’t like that, but I think you get the point. And I don’t know if anyone noticed, but until a few years ago well actually before the pandemic started, her management continued to push down the image of this “goofy innocent” girl who was happy all the time. She also pushed it herself because that was her job! No matter how much we think we know her,camila is still a pop star in the music industry who plays a part, just like everyone else who works in that damned department. And based on the above I’d like to point out that (no matter how many of you disagree with this) nobody is forcing camila to stay in the closet. Yes I know I sound ridiculous but hear me out. There isn’t a single contract which can legally force someone to hide their sexuality. Yes her management may have warned her not to come out in fear of losing profits and even blackmailed her, but at the end of the day it’s her choice. If she desperately wanted to come out as we all make it seem, she would’ve done it by now. The fact that she doesn’t, should tell us, that afterall she does care about her image. Even if that’s taking a toll on her now, it was her decision to follow that path. It was her decision to stay in the closet, it was her decision to accept the pr with shawn and it was her decision to keep playing the “happy” girlfriend to the media. No matter how much she was manipulated by this hell hole, camila is a pretty clever person. If she didn’t want any of this and simply wanted to be authentic to herself and the rest of the world, she simply wouldn’t care if she lost the title of the pop princess. But she does care. And it’s completely normal at this point, cause in this industry either you lose yourself or you come out stronger. Unfortunately I believe that camila’s case belongs to the first occasion. I don’t think that present camila we see in interviews or shows or whatever is the real camila. That camila is long gone. Anyway sorry if this was exhausting and thanks to anyone who read it all,cause I really wanted to share this with someone

someone

Good Lord, Anon, that's a lot to unpack. I will start by saying, I agree with some, and disagree with some of what you had to say. Now, where to start...

You say it still messes with you, that everyone still portrays Camila as the victim. Are you going to deny that Camila WAS/IS victimized? The truth is, they were ALL victimized. They are ALL victims of an abusive Industry.

You said, "she sure as hell accepted this full of privileges position she was given since the beginning." You are either forgetting, or just plain don't care, that Fifth Harmony was a highly controlled entity. There was no choosing, or "accepting" privileges. They each did what they were told to do, said what they were told to say, and acted the way they were told to act. They were each given a role to play, and they were contractually obligated to play that role.

Yes, they were contractually obligated to act a certain way. There has been ample proof given, that none of the girls had any control over their PUBLIC image. Camila still has no control over her PUBLIC image, because there has been ample proof, she is still operating under her original contract.

Did Camila choose to sign that original contract? Yes, she did. Did she read that original contract? According to Lauren, probably not. None of them did. Did Camila agree to sign her solo contract? Yes, she did. But as I've explained before, if she wanted to continue in the music industry, she had no choice but to sign the solo contract they offered her. That solo contract is still connected to her original contract.

Camila is a human being. We ALL have positive and negative traits. Camila, all the ladies of 5H, you and me, we all have our positives and negatives. None of us are perfect.

You said, "one of her biggest negatives, is that she grew to love the spotlight." Why is that a negative? Hell, they ALL wanted the spotlight. Every person who gets into the Entertainment Industry, wants to get themselves in the spotlight. They all want to succeed in the field of their choice. To succeed, they have to garner the attention, and live in the "spotlight", in one way, or another.

Every one of them auditioned on a NATIONALLY TELEVISED talent show. They wouldn't have done that, if they didn't want to be noticed, and hopefully thrust into the spotlight of success. They ALL wanted that spotlight of success to be as solo artists. It's didn't quite work out that way. But, they ALL chose to try and achieve that spotlight as a group.

If one has been paying attention, from the beginning, Camila made no bones about her desired dream. She has stated from the beginning, she wanted to be a "pop star". Of course she wanted the spotlight. Lauren has said, from the beginning, she wanted to be "famous and travel the world". She wanted to be a famous star, in the spotlight.

Since you have chosen to compare Camila and Lauren, I'll answer to them. You seem to think there is this big chasm between the two. There really isn't. The only difference is the outcome, thus far. Lauren STILL wants the spotlight and fame, she just wants it on her terms. The problem is, it's damn near impossible to get that success on ones own terms, in an Industry that insists on dictating the terms.

That's a more recent decision on Lauren's part, by the way. You seem to be conveniently forgetting, that until 2019, Lauren also "chose" to play the game on THEIR terms. It was most likely, a two year PR contract, with a drug addicted gang-banger that turned her off of THE GAME. Lauren was pissed, that after all that, her debut album got shelved in 2019. I DON'T BLAME HER!!! I'm sure that also contributed to her decision, that THEIR TERMS suck ass.

Does Camila "crave" the big concerts, accolades, and people loving her? Yes, she does. They ALL do, or they wouldn't have signed solo contracts after putting 5H on hiatus. Instead, they would have said "this Industry sucks" and walked away. They didn't. They ALL craved more.

Lauren wants the same thing Camila has, just on her terms. Lauren doesn't "hate fame". She hates the negative side of fame. She hates having her life dictated by terms and schedules. She hates being told what to say, and how to act. She hates that fans get all up in her business.

She loves the nicer side of fame. She wants to see a lot of people come and see her perform. She loves to be on stage and see her fans singing and dancing to her music. She appreciates the accolades. She loves the love she gets from her fans. She would love even more, if her fans would multiply, and buy and stream the hell out of her music, instead of always bitching, telling her who she is, and how she should be, and getting all up in her damn business.

All one has to do, is listen to Lauren and the anger inside her about all this mess. She wants more. She wants more than a fucking "room full of people" enjoying her art. She wants a stadium full of people enjoying her art. WHO THE FUCK WOULDN'T. She just wants that stadium full of people to enjoy her art, and not expect more than that from her. I'm sure Camila would appreciate the same damn thing.

Unfortunately, that's simply not how the music industry is set up, these days. The difference is, Camila has accepted the fact, that she IS the product. Lauren has not. Lauren don't want to be a product. She wants her music/art to be the product.

I've said it a million times, the music industry hardly sells music, anymore. The music Industry sells the artist. The music has become a bi-product of the Artist. The Industry knows which artists will sell, and which ones won't. They know what image will sell, and which ones won't. Be the artist THEY want you to be, THEY'LL make you a star, and maybe even famous. If not, good luck.

Finally, you are completely right. There isn't a contract out there, that says someone can't come out of the closet. That would be blatant discrimination, and wouldn't pass the muster of the legal system. But, when you sign away control of your own image in a contract, that gives the contract holder the rights to dictate what your PUBLIC image will be. If they want you to have a straight PUBLIC image, then you'll have a straight PUBLIC image. If THEY want you to have a "good girl next door" image, then that's the PUBLIC image you'll have. You signed away your rights to be your authentic self, when you signed away the rights to control how others see you, period!!!

IN MY OPINION, Camila has come out of the closet so damn many times, I can't even count any more. She just has to do so, in a way that isn't obvious to those who have control over how others see her. Take her last video, for instance. When one listens to terms she chooses to use, and does a bit of research, you'll discover, what I believe is the hidden meaning behind that video. If I'm correct in MY THINKING, she has yet again, screamed her truth from the rooftops, for those who choose to listen, and understand.

As for the PR contracts...I was the first person to say, Camila made the choice to sign into those particular contracts. When one signs away control over their own public image, it also allows those in control to dictate that one MUST enter into PR contracts to help THEM present the PUBLIC image THEY want for that particular artist. The artist gets a say in which person that PR is with, simply because they HAVE to agree to sign the contract with that particular person.

So, did Camila agree to sign into this PR contract with the human hair ball? She absolutely did....And NO ONE should be surprised by it. It is quite clear that this shit has been in the making, since June/July of 2015. Hell, after that shit show with the British Bore, even the majority of the fandom was asking for it. The timing was right, and here we are.

Lastly, Camila is always stepping out of the closet, like I said above. IN MY OPINION, she wants her fans to know who she truly is, but that doesn't mean she wants to tell the world in definitive terms. Like Lauren, she wishes people could simply appreciate the music, and leave per private life out of it, but she also knows that's a pipe dream, and not reality.

She knows, the second she decides to speak her truth aloud, her career takes, yet another, blow. I also think, that's one of the reasons THEY, through the media, make sure her ignorant youth is continuously brought up. The more she has to fight to get through that hardship, the more she will want to keep her truth a secret. (yes, a definite manipulation tactic)

Camila could decide to say, fuck it all, and come out with her truth at any time, after her contract is up. She could also decide never to PUBLICLY come out. It's her choice, unless people in power decide to take that choice away from her.

Whitney Houston took her truth with her to the grave. Taylor lives with her truth, one foot in the closet, and one foot out. That's basically what Camila is doing now. IN MY OPINION. Her public foot is in the closet, and her music/art foot is out. If people cared more about the music/art, they would get the authentic truth. If you care more about her public image, you'll get exactly what THEY want her to be.

People try to tell you, and others this all the damn time. Take the recent interviews. If you notice, Camila, and others are always saying how vulnerable, honest, and authentic she is, IN HER ART. Her truth is in her craft, whether acting or music. Her PUBLIC image, is just that, an image to sell to the PUBLIC. Everyone in the Entertainment Industry has one...Even Lauren. Yes, she did play the game. She still has her toe in the game, she just isn't playing it at a high level, right now...and, unfortunately for her, it shows!!!

There! I answered your book with a damn novel. As always, I could be wrong with my opinions, but they are my opinions!!!!!! !! !!!!

[hollandbaby]

positions - t.h smut

a/n: thank you for requesting !! (2.7k words)

disclaimer: smut (18+), praise kink, spanking, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it !!!)

Your new single has just released, along with a music video, and Tom was so proud of you. He hadn’t heard the song yet, you wanted this single to be a surprise for him, but seeing as you were busy today meeting up with your team to work on promo for your upcoming album, Tom decided to make the boys watch the video with him on the TV in his living room. The boys all gather round, Harry jumping on the sofa next to Tom, Harrison curled up on the other end with his feet resting on the coffee table while Tuwaine sits in his armchair, all facing the TV and chattering and laughing with one another. Tom starts up the TV, and can see that your music video is on the trending page, he smiles to himself as all the boys cheer, excited at your success. They knew if you were there you’d be super appreciative of all the support. Tom clicks on the video, the boys all watching intently as your name pops on the screen, followed by the song title ‘positions.’ Tom’s eyes immediately widen, a slight flush adorning his cheeks as the boys all taunt and tease him, knowing damn well if the lyrics are as suggestive as the title he’ll never hear the end of it.

“This song actually bops, y’know,” Tuwane chimes in, dancing along to the rhythm.

“Of course it does, it’s y/n, we all knew it’d be amazing,” Harrison adds, knowing how much music means to you and watching your success over the last few years continue to grow.

“Mate, the visuals on this are incredible,” Harry is focused on the aesthetics more than anything, appreciating the director’s vision.

But Tom is focused on you the whole time, and how stunning you look in each shot, but also the lyrics to the song. He feels his cheeks flush, knowing this song is about him. Tom has a distant smile on his lips the entire time watching the video, he cannot get over how gorgeous you look on top of how this song is about him. The video ends, and the boys are all praising the video, the song, the vocals, everything while Tom taps away at his phone, dropping you a text.

are you switching positions for me?

Tom locks his phone, not expecting a response straight away but his eyes shoot down to the screen as your message pops up; you know it, baby ;)

Tom smiles to himself, joining in the conversation with the other boys about their favourite aspects of the music video and the song.

“Tom, what was your favourite part of the video?” Tuwaine asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I think we all know what Tom’s favourite part was,” Harrison smirks, referring to the scene where you’re on your knees, checking your food in the oven, ass on display. Tom shoves Harrison, all the other boys taunting him, chuckling to themselves.

“Yeah so funny, H. Obviously I loved the whole video, but yeah, I mean who wouldn’t enjoy seeing their girlfriend in that position.”

“We all thoroughly enjoyed it,” Tuwaine butts in, Tom throwing a pillow at him. “It’s all jokes, man, we know she’s off limits.”

“Yeah, you better be joking,” he chuckles. The boys carry on, playing some fifa and messing around for the rest of the day. After playing a few games of fifa, Tom pulls out his phone, scrolling through instagram. He sees you’ve posted a clip of your new song, liking and commenting what you doing on monday? ;)

The comment gets thousands of likes within minutes, Tom smiling to himself as he reads the replies. Your response pops up and he bites his lip as he reads; guess you’ll have to find out 🤭

All the replies start rolling in, a bunch of fans, both yours and Tom’s, replying to the comments absolutely losing their shit. Tom smiles, reposting your post to his story and locking his phone again before heading to the bathroom for a shower. Tom runs the shower, playing your song and putting it on repeat as he hops in, washing his hair and humming along to the tune, letting the hot water run on his tense muscles, exhausted from the shooting he’d been doing recently. After a few minutes, he hears the door open and instantly knows it’s you, a smile gracing his lips as he feels the shower door open.

“Hey, love, how’d you get in here?” He pulls your naked body close to his own, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your own hands make their way to his shoulders, smiling up at him.

“Harry let me in, said you were in the shower so I thought I’d join you.” You bite your lip, pushing up against Tom’s bare body. “I’m guessing you like the new song?”

Tom let’s put a breathy laugh, his eyes twinkling as he softly smiles down at you, “I love it, babe, the video, too. I’ve been playing it on loop.”

You smile up at Tom, biting your lower lip before reaching behind him for his shower gel. You pour some into your hands, lathering it up before moving your hands back to Tom’s shoulders, moving them in circular motions to clean his skin, your hands moving down his chest. “What’s your favourite lyric?”

Tom sighs contentedly, loving the feeling of your hands on his skin, “probably the line ‘cooking in the kitchen then I’m in the bedroom’.”

You playfully smack his chest, rolling your eyes at him as you smile. Of course Tom’s favourite line would be the one insinuating food and sex. “How did I guess that’d be your favourite?” Your hands work down his arms now, soap lathering on his skin as the water from the shower hits Tom’s back. Tom grips your hands in his own, moving them back up to his shoulders before leaning down and pressing his lips against your own in a soft, yet needy, kiss.

“I missed you today, love,” he whispers, voice raspy and deep. You meet his eyes, deep brown irises darkened with lust. You feel Tom’s hands trail down to your ass, squeezing your skin before giving a sharp slap to each cheek. You bite your lip, the impact making you jolt forward a little, your breasts pushing up against Tom’s chest.

“Hmm, did you now?” Your own hands travel down Tom’s back, giving his perky bum a quick squeeze before they move around his waist, feeling his hard abs beneath your fingertips, you run your fingers up his torso and chest. One of your hand dips lower, teasing around his erect cock sitting against his stomach, ghosting your touch on him. Tom let’s out a low growl, pulling you into him and kissing you passionately. You kiss Tom back, a mesh of teeth and tongue in a fit of fiery passion, your hands roaming his warm skin as his grope at your ass, water running down both your bodies. You bite your lip as you pull back, breathing heavily as you say “shall we get a little more comfortable?”

Boy, I’m tryna meet your mama, on a Sunday

Tom nods, pecking your lips again before you reach behind him, turning off the shower. Your wet body presses against his and you can feel his hard cock on your stomach, your pussy clenching at the thought of having him inside you. Pressing another kiss to Tom’s puckered lips, you turn and open the shower door, stepping out and wrapping yourself up in a fluffy towel. Tom follows suit, wrapping a towel around his waist before moving behind you and slapping your ass playfully. You leave the bathroom, which luckily is right opposite Tom’s bedroom, and hurry into his room, Tom following behind you, hair dripping, droplets of water falling down his broad shoulders and chest. He closes the door behind him, and you’re immediately in his arms again, your hands snaking their way up to his wet curls as his own wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. Tom pushes you against the nearest wall, lips moving against your own, his hands making their way down to your thighs, encouraging you to jump up. You do so, wrapping your legs around his towel clad hips, your own towel lifting up with your movements, your bare pussy feeling the friction of Tom’s towel. You moan against Tom’s lips, your hips grinding against his own, feeling his hard dick through the towel.

And make a lotta love, on Monday

“Drop your towel, Tommy,” you speak against his lips, one of Tom’s hands moving to his towel, untying the knot and dropping it to the floor, his lips never leaving yours. You feel his cock against your thigh, your pussy clenching, aching to have him inside you. Tom’s fingers creep under your towel, ghosting around your aching heat as he teases your folds, not quite touching where you need him to. You’re whining into the kiss, your hips pushing forward in attempt to make contact with his slender fingers.

I don’t need no one else, babe

“You’re so needy, aren’t you?” He taunts, breathily chuckling against your lips, his breath tickling your chin. You nod, hands pulling him into you, his lips back on your own in a fiery kiss, growing more and more passionate as you grind your hips. Tom finally makes contact with your wet entrance, groaning at how ready you are for him already. His digits slide through your glistening folds, to your clit, rubbing and teasing as your heart beats faster in your chest, legs beginning to shake at the sensation. “Want me to fuck you right here?”

‘Cause I’ll be

You groan, eyes rolling back as you nod your head against Tom’s bedroom wall, your pussy aching as you let the towel fall from your chest, Tom ripping it off the rest of the way and revealing your perfect breasts to him. Tom’s lips are on your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin as he continues rubbing your clit, feeling how your legs shake for him. You reach between your bodies, gripping Tom’s hard cock in your hand, pumping him before guiding his tip to your entrance. Tom’s cock slides into you easily, your head rolling back as you moan, Tom letting out a grunt at the feeling of your warm, wet walls around his aching dick. He thrusts up into you, holding your ass as he pushes you against the wall, keeping you in position, the tip of his cock nudging your g spot with each stroke, you clench down on him, hands gripping onto his shoulders as he fucks up into you.

“Fuck, just like that, Tommy.” Your voice is breathy, panting, heart racing as Tom’s thrusts speed up, hands gripping your ass and your back arching into him, boobs pushing against his bare skin.

Swtchin’ the positions for you

You feel your back being ripped from against the wall, helping gently as Tom turns while holding you, your hands clinging to him as he pecks your lips, sitting on the edge of the bed. You unwrap your legs from his waist, pushing your knees onto the bed, Tom’s cock never leaving your grip the whole time. You start grinding on him, hips moving up and down slowly at first, finding that rhythm that sends you both into a euphoric state. Tom pulls you in for another kiss, feeling your body push up on his as you begin to bounce on his cock, clenching on him as you pull up before sitting back down, the friction rubbing your clit just enough. “Such a good girl for me.”

Cook in’ in the kitchen then I’m in the bedroom

You whimper, Tom’s hands squeezing your ass, guiding your movements along his dick. Your grip on his shoulders tightens, feeling yourself edging closer to your high. “You look so, fuck, so pretty bouncing on my cock, angel.” Tom’s voice is deep, raspy moans escaping his lips every so often as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy, your head rolling back as you continue your movements. Tom wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him again before swiftly placing you on the bed, rolling you onto your stomach and separating your legs, knees bent before thrusting back into you. You moan into the sheets below you, the new angle ensuring Tom’s cock hits deeper than before, hitting that sweet spot inside you. You lurch forward with each thrust from Tom, his arms either side of you, holding up his weight. Your eyes roll back, your hands gripping onto the sheets as Tom’s skin slaps yours, filling the room with lewd noises. Tom’s hand moves to your hair, gripping a fistful and pulling you up, you can hear your wetness as he fucks up into you. His fingers move from your hair around to your neck, fingers gripping your throat as he fucks you.

“God, you’re always so fucking tight for me.” Tom’s voice shakes, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he feels your cunt clench on him, your wetness making his movements easier, your back arching as Tom’s grip on your throat tightens ever so slightly, just enough to make you breathless in the best way. You moan, Tom’s tip hitting your g spot in a particularly sharp thrust, making you lurch forward. Tom pulls out, flipping the two of you over, so he’s lay back on the bed, you on top; “I want you to ride me, baby, reverse.”

I’m in the Olympics, way I’m jumping through hoops

You bend down to kiss Tom, moaning against his lips before turning around, legs either side of Tom’s hips as he guides his aching dick back to your soaked entrance, teasing your folds before pushing back into you. You push against him, sitting back on his cock, feeling Tom’s hips thrust up against your movements. You feel Tom’s hands grip your ass, he occasionally delivers sharp slaps to both your cheeks, leaving your ass stinging in the best way, your back arching with the pleasure. One of your hands rests on Tom’s thigh, the other moving between your legs to rub circles on your clit as you continue bouncing on his cock, your eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. “Fuck, Tom!”

Know my love infinite, nothing I wouldn’t do

“That’s it, baby, take all of me. Just like that, fuck,” Tom’s meeting your movements with his own, staring at your wet cunt concealing his thick cock, encouraging you to carry on; “keep rubbing your clit, love. Want you to cum on my cock.” You moan at his words, head rolling forward as you bounce on him, faster now, Tom hitting all the right angles inside you, your fingers working overtime on your sensitive clit, Tom hitting your g spot with every thrust. Your breathing is rapid, heart beating in your throat as your legs begin to shake, pussy clenching on Tom’s dick, his own hips thrusting erratically as he nears his high. “Cum for me, angel.”

That I won’t do

You do as told, hips slamming down as your cunt grips Tom’s dick, whimpers falling past your plump lips, bitten and bruised, as Tom reaches his own high, his cum shooting deep inside you as his hands grip onto your ass cheeks, his own legs shaking from his orgasm. You take a second to recover, panting as you come down from your high, pulling off Tom’s cock you feel his cum spill down your thighs. You turn around, straddling his hips as you flop down on top of him, Tom chuckling as he wraps his arms around you, tracing gentle circles on your bare shoulder as his other hand plays with your hair. You press a kiss to his collarbone, still exhausted from your activities.

Switchin’ for you

“Well, that was amazing.” Tom breathes, voice broken and chest rising and falling with his still rapid breaths.

“It’s always amazing with you, babe.” You giggle, fingers tracing the skin on his bulging bicep, his hand rested under his head. Tom presses a light kiss to your forehead, his arms gripping onto your waist before he flips you over again, you let out a quiet giggle before smiling devilishly up at him, hands reaching around his neck.

“I’m not done with you yet, love.”

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