#I’d like to think Matt turned over a new leaf after that

[101flavoursofweird]

“This is a statue of Principle Bump, who risked his life for ours!”

[amberlynnmurdock]

Library Series (Pt. 16)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Chapter Summary: Finally, Thanksgiving is here. 

A/N: WOW GUYS. It's been QUITE the journey since I've last updated this fanfic. I hope you all are staying safe and healthy in this madness. I've been so busy, I'm sorry it's been a while. Now that I've graduated college, I'll have plenty more time for writing and finishing this series (though there's a long way to the finish line). I still have so many hopes for this story, I can't wait to see it unfold. If you've been here from the start, THANK YOU. If you are just discovering this story, WELCOME!!! I hope you enjoy this fluffy chapter. But get ready... it's going to be a wild ride from here on out. :)P.S. Thank you for all the feedback! I recently kept getting emails about people leaving kudos and comments (more than usual) and I took it as a sign to sit my ass down and write this long awaited chapter. You guys inspired me, and I'm going to keep it up for you.

AO3 LINK

New Jersey was a place Matt hadn’t spent much time in, so he couldn’t form a picture in his mind of what it would be like. He was born and raised in New York; the city was exciting enough. His dad had taken Matt to the Jersey Shore beach a few times, before the accident. All Matt can recall are shelly sands and ice cold water.

With his heightened senses now, Matt almost shivers at the thought of the shore. But thank God you didn’t live near the beach. In fact, quite the opposite, Matt could tell.

The first sound he heard was the crunch of a leaf under his shoes. Matt could vaguely hear you tip the taxi driver and wish him a happy holiday. For once, his focus was on the new territory that was the country side of New Jersey. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he’s pleasantly surprised at the quietness of the town you lived in.

A cold breeze passes and Matt shivers. It’s the only thing he can hear. No distant yelling like New York City has, no cars honking or subway doors opening. All he could hear was the wind, the slick pavement of the road as the taxi drove off, and the sound of your sweet voice pulling him from his thoughts.

“Ready?” You ask. Your voice is optimistic, but cautious. This isn’t just new territory for Matthew–it’s new territory for yourself, too. You can’t remember the last time you brought a boy home to meet your parents.

“Lead the way, miss,” Matt replies playfully, sticking his elbow out for you to hold. You take it graciously and lead him down a cobblestone path.

Matt can smell buttered rolls and red wine. His mouth waters at the scent, but he quickly gains composure as you open your front door.

“Mom, Dad, I’m here with Matt!” You shout stepping in. Matt tries to hide his blush–of course, you’ve told them about him already.

“Welcome home, sweetie,” your dad comes walking down the hall that leads from the kitchen to the living room. He gives you a warm hug and kiss on the cheek. Matt stands patiently with his hands around his cane.

“This is Matthew,” you introduce Matt to your father. Matt holds out his hand and smiles.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir. You can call me Matt,” he says.

“We’re happy to have you join us, Matt. Usually it’s just the three of us. It’s nice to set a fourth dinner plate. We’ve heard a lot about you, so hopefully you live up to the standards we have in mind. My daughter speaks very highly of you,” your dad jokes. You glare at your father.

“Dad,” you say sheepishly. Matt smiles. He’s pleased you’ve talked about him, and he thinks your bashfulness is adorable. The overwhelming urge to pull you in for a kiss washes over Matt, but like your dad said, he’s got to be on his best behavior.

Matt laughs, “the pressure is on.”

In the kitchen, your mom is prepping the turkey. She pops up from behind the kitchen island and smiles as you and Matt walk in.

“Matt, it is so nice to meet you!” Your mom was notorious for jumping right into it, no matter the situation. She walks around the kitchen island to shake Matt’s hand. “It’s such a pleasure to have you join us.”

“Thank you for having me,” Matt says. Matt was so used to being surrounded by Foggy’s entire family on holidays, he wasn’t even phased with how outgoing your mom was. He likes your parents. It’s nice to have a small gathering. Hopefully there will be more, Matt thinks. And hopefully, it will bring you two even closer.

Matt doesn’t want to get ahead of himself.

Dinner was delicious, and conversation was fun, full and flowing. Matt never took so much time talking with Foggy’s family members because there were so many of them, but he liked the intimacy he shared with you and your family. It’s been a long time since he’s connected with someone other than Father Lantom.

Your mom gets up to clean the dishes and Matt offers to help.

“Matt, you don’t have to, really,” you say defensively and reach for his hand, feeling bad for some reason. Matt was the guest, he shouldn’t have to clean. Plus, and a part of you felt guilty for thinking this, but he was blind and… you just felt bad.

“I want to,” Matt simply says. He can hear the guilt in your voice, and the sound of your beating heart is loud in his ears. He appreciates your concern, but he doesn’t need it.

It’s just one of those things.

“Okay,” you reply, slowly letting his hand slip from your grasp.

While Matt helps your mom clean the dishes, you clear the table with your dad. Your dad tugs on your arm and leans in closely to tell you, “I really like him. Invite him for Christmas, too.”

“I want to take it easy, dad. But I’m glad you like him, too. I think mom approves as well,” you whisper back as you look over to see your mom laugh at something Matt said. The scene warms your heart.

After cleaning was done, your parents surprised you that they’d be going downtown tonight. You had an inkling that they were being nice and giving you alone time with Matt, since they’ve never went out after dinner on Thanksgiving before.

“So you’re going to what?” You ask as you and Matt follow them to the front door.

“Just the pub downtown, they’re opening only for the night so the neighbors invited us out as a town Thanksgiving celebration. You guys will be okay here? You can show Matt where he can stay,” Your mom explained as she and your dad put their coats on.

“Oh okay, well, have fun! Be safe. We’ll probably be asleep by the time you get back,” you say, starting to feel nervous that you and Matt would be together in your house alone. The thought was exciting at the same time.

When the door shut, the air in the room changed between you and Matt. It’s like you’ve been waiting all day, all weekend to be alone together, finally. You stand facing the door for a moment before you look at Matt.

“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying,” you say softly to Matt. He has a ghost of a smile on his lips and nods his head. He follows you upstairs with his bags.

You lead him to the guest room which is directly across from your room. You switch the light on and grab Matt’s bags, setting them down on the mattress. It’s a dimly lit room. The bed is a queen size with cotton sheets and a quilt.

“It’s cozy in here,” Matt says, smelling an unlit vanilla candle on the dresser. It reminds him of you. He can only imagine what your room looks like.

“It is. You know, we don’t have to say goodnight just yet. Let’s hang out in my room for a bit,” you say as innocently as possible. Matt nods his head.

“I’d love that,” he says in a soft voice.

The walk to your room felt like miles. The growing anticipation was too much to bear. Your heart was pounding. You had been with Matt alone so many times before but this time was different.

You’re taking him to your room, the room you grew up in and the room that has changed from time to time as you got older. It felt like you were entering a new phase with him and the thought was intimidating because you couldn’t exactly get a read on how he was feeling about all this.

Your room looked exactly like how you left it months ago before the start of the fall semester. Your bed was made and everything was put away–your records, clothes, books. You felt Matt behind you and turned to face him.

He immediately meets you with a kiss. He pulls you in around your waist and lets his cane drop to the floor, like he was dropping the facade he had around your parents. You could tell he was waiting all night to give you a long kiss like that. Suddenly, you thought you had an idea of how Matt felt about all this.

You pull back from his soft lips and smile, “thank you for coming tonight.”

“Thank you for having me,” Matt says in a deep voice, “I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night.”

“You could have; my parents are cool like that,” you say with a smile.

“Not with the way I wanted to kiss you,” Matt quips.

“Oh,” is all you say with a smile. He was really sweeping you off your feet right now. And that’s exactly what he did.

Laughing, Matt gently places you on your bed and joins right next to you. You look at him and smile.

“You’re really making yourself at home, huh,” you joke with him.

“It’s easy with you, my dear,” Matt replies.

“I really hope you had a good time at dinner,” you say.

“I did,” Matt answers honestly. “I really like your family.” You notice he still has his red tinted glasses on. Without asking, you take them off. He doesn’t object.

He turns to look at you, his gaze falling shortly below your chin. For a moment, he takes in his surroundings. Across from your bed is your dresser and on top of that, a lavender scented candle that’s unlit. He can tell you have a lot of books from the smell of the pages.

Branches of a tree rub against the windows from the wind. Being this close to you is even more intoxicating than the red wine you both shared at dinner. Matt could get lost in your senses but being in your room with you on top of that is downright exhilarating.

It’s nice to be alone, with you, Matt thinks. Away from school, away from New York City, away from all the problems it comes with–he thinks being away with you is something he’d like to do more often. It’s safe being away. It’s easy to be with you, being away.

Laying down on your bed, in your room, with you was just the escape Matt needed from what felt like the weight of the world he’s been carrying lately. He wishes the weekend could turn into a week, a month, a year, forever.

For now, he’ll be grateful he gets to spend even a second in your presence.

“I’m sorry I got defensive before,” you say, the thought and scene still bothering you.

“It’s okay,” Matt replies. There’s honestly nothing you could do to make Matt upset, “I know I’m blind, but I’m still capable of doing things normally. People tend to forget. They wonder how I get to class, how I know which dorm is mine, how I–“

“–simply live life,” you finish his sentence.

“Exactly,” Matt sighs.

“Well, I didn’t want to be like one of those people,” you tell him, turning to face him on your side. “I know what you’re capable of.”

You have no idea. Matt felt bad that he was partially lying about the blind thing. Of course, he’s actually blind, but there's much more to what he’s actually capable of doing. He pushes the thought aside. He doesn’t want to be a mystery to you.

“You? Like other people?” Matt scoffs, “You are nothing like anyone I’ve ever met, sweetheart.”

You smile, swooning at him. “Happy thanksgiving,” you say.

“Happy thanksgiving,” Matt replies. He leans in to kiss you on your forehead. “I’m grateful to have met you, ___.”

You kiss his lips and rest your head on his shoulder. You thought tonight would be full of chatter, but instead, you relish in each other’s company in silence.

That night, Matt doesn’t bother to move to the guest room. You close your door and join Matt in your bed for a restful sleep together. You fit snug against his strong and warm body. He wraps his fingers around yours and whispers something in your ear, but you've already fallen into a deep sleep before you could hear what he had to say.

[ninzied]

a kiss pressed to the top of the head.

Karen gets the call in the middle of their lunch hour.

She’s playfully tossing a fry in Foggy’s face, laughing at something he’s just said as she picks up her phone and looks down at her screen.

“It’s a Metro-General number,” she says, bemused. She looks up at Foggy and Matt. Both of them shrug. Anyone the hospital’s likely to be calling her about is already sitting right here in front of her.

“Hello?” she says into the phone. Confusion registers on her face first. And then she goes very, very quiet.

Foggy’s not able to make out what’s being said on the other line, but judging from Karen’s expression—Matt’s expression, too—it can’t be anything good.

“He what?” Karen puts a hand up to her mouth, and Foggy notices that her fingers are trembling a little. “Is he okay? Is—yes. Thank you. Yes, I’m going to head there now.” She hangs up, looking like she’s already a hundred miles away—or at least the three it will take to get to the hospital.

Matt puts a hand on Karen’s shoulder. “Foggy will drive you there,” he says.

“I will?” says Foggy. “I mean, yeah, of course I will, but what’s going on?”

Karen grabs her things, and Foggy rushes to follow suit, saying a hurried, “Thanks for lunch, I guess” to Matt, who waves them off and helps himself to one of Karen’s fries.

She’s silent in the passenger seat, gazing distractedly out the window as Foggy drives. He looks at her with growing worry, but every time he starts to speak, he’s less and less sure what to say. He’s never seen her so pale. He’s never seen her so determined to hold herself together.

There’s only one person he can think of that could get this kind of reaction from her.

The local station is on at low volume, and Foggy strains to hear anything newsworthy. But there’s nothing about shoot-outs, or robberies, or any other sort of public disturbance that could give him the information he’s looking for.

At one point, Karen reaches over and squeezes his hand. He squeezes back, and doesn’t let go until they’ve pulled into the emergency department entrance.

He ends up valet parking his car, wondering briefly to himself if he can charge it to the company card that they’d opened up last year. Considering what—or who—is waiting for them inside.

It wouldn’t be the first time, which is all he has to say about that.

A woman in scrubs looks up from her computer as they approach the front desk. “Can I help you?”

“Yes.” Karen clears her throat. “I’m here to see Pete Castiglione.”

“What’s your relation?” says the woman, searching his name on her computer screen.

Karen draws in a breath. “He, um—listed me as his emergency contact.”

The woman hands her a visitor’s badge, and then looks expectantly over at Foggy.

“I’m—his lawyer,” Foggy blurts out. He doesn’t know what’s landed Frank in here this time, but it doesn’t hurt to cover his bases. The woman raises an eyebrow, but thankfully doesn’t press him for any more details than that.

She gives them a room number and then points them through a set of double doors. They give an audible click before swinging wide open. The walk is short but tense, Karen visibly steeling herself once they’re just outside the room. It’s a sliding glass door, but the inside has been curtained shut.

“Do you want me to wait out here?” Foggy asks.

“No, it’s okay.” She gives him a wan smile. “Thank you. For coming.”

“Sure, of course,” says Foggy, attempting a small but comforting smile back.

Karen slides the door open and steps inside, drawing the curtain back behind her. Foggy follows her in, unable to keep from thinking about all the other times they’d walked into the Punisher’s hospital room together.

There are a few notable differences, this time around.

The first is that Frank Castle is not in handcuffs, nor is he strapped down to the bed. The only things attached to him are a few colored wires, snaking out from under his gown and winding up to plug into a monitor that’s beeping steadily above him.

The second is that there are no bruises on his face, when he turns toward the door and sees them there. He looks like he hasn’t gotten much sleep, but other than that, his face is clear—cleanly shaved, even. In fact, Foggy can discern no obvious injuries on him at all.

The only thing that hasn’t changed is Karen.

She walks straight up to his bed, past where the red tape would have been. Foggy sees her hand start to reach out for Frank’s, but then she’s pulling up a chair instead, taking a seat next to him.

“Hey.” Frank’s voice sounds a little rough around the edges, but that could also have something to do with the fact that he can’t seem to take his eyes off of Karen. “I didn’t—wasn’t sure I’d see you here.”

“Of course I’m here.” Karen has been making a similar assessment of his state, because the next thing she says is, “Where are you hurt? They wouldn’t give me anything specific over the phone.”

“’M fine,” he says, gesturing down at his leg. “Waiting on some x-ray reads. Didn’t even see the guy till it was too late. Wouldn’t’ve come in for this, but EMTs showed up fast, and I didn’t want to—you know. Make a scene by refusing.”

Foggy blinks, not sure if he’s just heard him right. Frank Castle. The Punisher. Didn’t want…to make a scene?

Karen is evidently thinking along the same lines as him. Her voice is carefully light as she asks, “Turning over a new leaf, Frank?”

“Something like that,” he says.

Frank’s watching her as she bites her lip and glances down at her hands for a moment.

“It’s, uh. It’s good to see you,” Frank says quietly.

Foggy can’t help but notice it’s the only thing Frank has to look away from her for. LIke he wouldn’t have been able to find the words if she’d been looking back.

“You clearly had my number,” Karen chides him, but gently. “You didn’t need to get hit by a car for an excuse to finally use it.”

The corner of Frank’s mouth turns up. “Figured you were more likely to pick up this way.”

She gives him a fondly exasperated look. “Seriously?”

“Nah.” Frank smiles sideways at her. “But this was as good a place as any to make the call. You know, for old times’ sake.”

She shakes her head at him, but her voice has gone soft when she speaks again. “And here I was about to say that we have to stop meeting like this.”

“Well, there were…” Frank swallows, looking back down at his hands. “There were some things I wanted to get right, this time.”

He looks like he wants to say more, but then his gaze shifts over to Foggy, still lingering awkwardly by the door.

“Are you, um.” Foggy holds out his hands, palms up. He finishes lamely, “In any trouble? Legally speaking?”

“Not that I know of,” says Frank. “Unless there’s something illegal about crossing the street when the light tells me to.” He squints up at Foggy, who laughs, and then immediately wonders if that was how he was supposed to react.

“Foggy was with me when they called,” Karen tells Frank. “He offered to give me a ride.”

Frank regards him a moment longer, then nods at him in a grave kind of way, which Foggy takes to mean thank you.

“It was nothing,” he says. It was Matt, actually, but Foggy doesn’t mention that part out loud. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He goes on standing there, watching the way Frank and Karen keep not-quite making eye contact in the small glances they steal at each other. “Right,” says Foggy. “Coffee, anyone?”

As it turns out, coffee is not really a thing that the emergency department has on hand. After several uncomfortable inquiries, he winds up with a cup the size of his palm that’s filled with lukewarm water, which he sips on in the waiting room.

Matt calls when he’s halfway through a crossword puzzle, much to Foggy’s surprise.

“How is he?” asks Matt, before adding, unnecessarily, “Castle.”

“Alive and kicking,” Foggy reports. “Well—to be determined on the kicking part, he might have a broken leg. So not a lot of kicking in the foreseeable future.”

“That’s good,” comes Matt’s voice after a moment. “I mean, that he’s—you know what I mean.”

“I do,” says Foggy. “And I’ll send him your best.”

“I’m sure that would go over well.” Matt lets out an audible breath. “Send them to Karen, too, okay?”

“Of course,” says Foggy. He pauses, wondering how long Matt has known. After seeing them together today, Foggy realizes just how obvious it must have always been, and marvels that he hadn’t picked up on it sooner. “I’ll keep you posted. See you tomorrow?”

“You owe me lunch,” says Matt, and hangs up.

Foggy’s on his third crossword when the double doors open, and Karen walks out—then stops, turning around before taking another cautious step forward.

Frank comes limping out behind her, dressed in his street clothes. There’s no cast that Foggy can see, but Frank has a pair of crutches in one hand, face set in grim lines as he sinks his weight back onto his injured leg.

Karen frowns and says something to him, gesturing at the unused crutches. He starts to argue with her, but she holds out a hand, a command in every line of her body. Frank finally relinquishes one of the crutches to her, and she helps to steady him as he positions one underneath each arm.

He pulls a face, but she only smiles at him as she touches her hand to his chest.

“Better?” Foggy catches her asking.

Frank says something that makes her laugh, and the sound of it seems to catch them both by surprise. Karen lets her hands drop, folding them carefully together, and she glances down for a moment, looking almost uncertain.

Frank is gazing at her with such quiet intensity that Foggy almost slides down in his seat and raises his newspaper up to eye-level. He feels like he’s intruding. But he also feels like he can’t look away.

Frank leans in, until his cheek is resting just over Karen’s temple, on the side that Foggy can’t see. But then his mouth brushes against the top of her head as he’s ducking back, and better does not even begin to describe how they’re both looking right now.

Foggy grabs his valet ticket, and goes to have the car brought back around for them.

[path-of-my-childhood]

How Aaron Dessner and Taylor Swift Stripped Down Her Sound on ‘Folklore’

By: Jon Blistein for Rolling Stone Date: July 24th 2020

At the beginning of March, the National’s Aaron Dessner traveled back to the United States from Paris, where he’d been living with his family, to shack up at Sonic Ranch Studio in Tornillo, Texas to work on the next Big Red Machine album with Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon. Those plans - obviously - soon shifted, as the reality of the COVID-19 pandemic set in. Dessner and his family were able to relocate to their home in upstate New York as lockdown orders went into effect, and the musician soon settled into a groove of homeschooling his kids and able to focus fully on music in a way he hadn’t in a while, due to the National’s regularly rigorous touring schedule.

In the middle of what Dessner describes as one of the most productive moments of his career, Taylor Swift called. A longtime and avowed fan of the National, Swift asked if Dessner wanted to try collaborating on a few songs remotely. He said of course, and asked if she was looking for anything in particular. He noted that he had plenty of material at the ready, but acknowledged he’d been in a more experimental mood, due to the Big Red Machine sessions; not to mention, Dessner added, he’d never really ventured into the pop world Swift has dominated for well over a decade. She told him to send everything he had.

“I think she was interested in the emotions that she feels in some of the music that I’ve made,” Dessner tells Rolling Stone.” So I just sent her a folder of things I’d done recently and was excited about. Hours after, she sent back a fully written version of ‘Cardigan.’ It was like a lightning bolt struck the house.”

Over the next few months, Dessner and Swift crafted the bulk of Swift’s eighth studio album, Folklore. Dessner spoke with Rolling Stone about working with Swift, their instant chemistry, how the album developed under a thick cloud of secrecy and more.

When Taylor first reached out, did she have a specific vision in mind for the album? She was a bit cryptic. I didn’t know that we were actually working on a record for quite a while. It just seemed that she was seeking me out to collaborate. And then we were both feeling very inspired by it. Once there were six or seven songs that we had written over a couple of weeks, she said, “Hey can we talk?” Then she said, ‘This is what I’m imagining,’ and started to tell me about the concept of Folklore. Then she mentioned that she’d written some songs at an earlier stage with Jack [Antonoff], and they felt like they really fit together with what we were doing. It was a very inspiring, exhilarating collaborative process that was almost entirely remote. Very sort of warp speed, but also something about it felt like we were going toe-to-toe and in a good pocket.

After “Cardigan,” how did these songs develop and do you think she pushed you in any new directions as a songwriter? When you’re working with someone new, it takes a second to understand their instincts and range. It’s not really conscious. She wrote “Cardigan,” and then “Seven,” then “Peace.” They kind of set a road map, because “Cardigan” was this kind of experimental ballad, the closest thing to a pop song on the record, but it’s not really. It’s this emotional thing, but it has some strange sounds in it. “Seven” is this kind of nostalgic, emotional folk song. Even before she sang to it, I felt this nostalgia, wistful feeling in it, and I think that’s what she gravitated towards. And “Peace,” that just showed me the incredible versatility that she had. That song is just three harmonized bass lines and a pulse. I love to play bass like that - play one line then harmonize another, and another, which is a behavior I stole from Justin Vernon, because he’s done that on other things we’ve done together. And actually, that’s his pulse, he sent me that pulse and said, “Do something with this.” But when she wrote that song, which kind of reminds me of a Joni Mitchell song over a harmonized bassline and a pulse, that was kind of like, “Woah, anything can happen here.” That’s not easy to do. 

So, in the morning I would wake up and try to be productive. “Mad Woman” is one I wrote shortly after that, in terms of sound world, felt very related to “Cardigan” and “Seven.” I do have a way of playing piano where it’s very melodic and emotional, but then often it’s great if whoever’s singing doesn’t sing exactly what’s in the piano melody, but maybe it’s connected in some way. There was just some chemistry happening with her and how she was relating to those ideas.

“Epiphany” was something she had an idea for, and then I imagined these glacial, Icelandic sounds with distended chords and this almost classical feeling. That was another one where we wrote it and conceived it together. She just has a very instinctive and sharp musical mind, and she was able to compose so closely to what I was presenting. What I was doing was clicking for her. It was exhilarating for us, and it was surreal - we were shocked by it, to be honest [Laughs]. I think the warmth, humanity and raw energy of her vocals, and her writing on this record, from the very first voice memos - it was all there.

Do you think that chemistry might’ve had something to do with her being a National fan, and you being a fan of her music? We met Taylor at Saturday Night Live in 2014, or whenever that was that we played and Lena Dunham was hosting. We got to meet her, and that was our first brush with a bona fide pop star. But then she came to see us play in Brooklyn last summer and was there in a crazy rainstorm, like torrential downpour, and watched the whole show and stayed for a long time afterwards, talking to me and my brother. She was incredibly charming and humble. That’s the nice thing about her, and a lot of people I’ve met that have that kind of celebrity. It’s great when you can just tune it out and be normal people and chat, and that’s how that felt. So, we knew that she was a big fan, and we really got into the 1989 album. Our Icelandic collaborator, Ragnar Kjartansson, is a crazy Swiftie. So we’ve kind of lived vicariously through him. I’ve always been astonished by how masterful she is in her craft. I’ve always listened to her albums and put them in this rarefied category, like, “How did she do that? How does anybody do that? How do you make ‘Blank Space?’” There was an element that was intimidating at first, where it just took me a second to be like… Not because I think her music is better than what we’ve done, but it’s just a different world.

Were there particular songs, albums or artists the two of you discussed as reference points for this album? “Betty,” which is a song she wrote with William Bowery, she was interested in sort of early Bob Dylan, like Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, I think. “Epiphany,” early on, felt like some weird Kate Bush-meets-Peter Gabriel thing. I think we talked a little about those things, but not a lot. Actually, I think she really trusted me as far as my instincts to where the music would ultimately go, and also the mixing process.  We really wanted to keep her voice as human, and kind of the opposite of plastic, as possible. That was a bit of a battle. Because everything in pop music tends to be very carved out, a smiley face, and as pushed as possible so that it translates to the radio or wherever you hear it. That can also happen with a National song - like if you changed how these things are mixed, they wouldn’t feel like the same song. And she was really trusting and heard it herself. She would make those calls herself, also.

You mentioned William Bowery - who is he? He’s a songwriter, and actually because of social distancing, I’ve never met him. He actually wrote the original idea for “Exile,” and then Taylor took it and ran with it. I don’t actually know to be totally honest.

We’ve been trying to track him down, he doesn’t have much of an internet presence. Yeah, I don’t fully know him, other than he wrote “Betty” and “Exile” with her. But you know she’s a very collaborative person, so it was probably some songwriter.

So it’s not an alias for anyone? No, no, no. I mean, I don’t know - she didn’t tell me there was a “Cardigan” video until literally it came out, and I wrote the song with her [laughs]. So I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure he’s an actual songwriter. She enjoys little mysteries.

With the National, you and your brother write the music, Matt Berninger adds the lyrics, and then you fuse it - was it a similar process on Folklore? Taylor is very collaborative in that sense that, whenever she sent a voice memo, she would send all the lyrics and then ask me what I thought. And sometimes we would debate certain lines, although generally she’s obviously a strong writer. So she would ask me if I liked one line, and she would give me alternate lines and I would give her my opinion. And then when she was actually tracking vocals, I would sometimes suggest things or miss things, but she definitely has a lot of respect for the collaborative process and wants whoever she’s writing with to feel deeply included in that process. It was nice, and was a back and forth, for sure. And she would sometimes have ideas about the production if she didn’t like something, especially. She would, in a tactful way, bring that up. I appreciated that, too, since I wanted to try to turn over every leaf, take risks and sometimes get it wrong. That always takes a second, to get over and then you start again.

You mentioned earlier that once you had six, seven songs, she was able to describe a concept behind the album. I’m curious what that conversation was like. She would always explain what each song was about to me, even before she articulated the Folklore concept. And I could tell early on that they were these narrative songs, often told from a different… not in the first person. So there are different characters in the songs that appear in others. You may have a character in “Betty” that’s also related to one in “Cardigan,” for example. And I think that was, in her mind, very, very important. It doesn’t seem like, for this record at least, that she was inspired to write something until she really knew what it was about. And I think I’m used to a more - at least lately - impressionistic and experimental world of making stuff without really knowing what it is. But this was more direct, in that sense. That was really helpful, to know what it was about and it would guide some of the choices we were making.

Every time she would send something, she would narrate a little bit, like how it fit, or what it was about. And then when she told me about Folklore as a concept, it made so much sense. Like “The Last Great American Dynasty,” for example, this kind of narrative song that then becomes personal at the end - it flips and she enters the song. These are kind of these folkloric, almost mythical tales that are woven in of childhood, lost love, and different sentiments across the record. It was binding it all together and I think it’s personal, but also through the guise of other people, friends and loved ones.

You were working in secret - how did that affect the process? Was that a difficult burden? It was. I was humbled and honored and grateful for the opportunity and for the crazy sort of alchemy we were having. But it was hard not to be able to talk openly with my usual collaborators, even my brother at first. I didn’t know if I could really tell him, because we normally… Ultimately, he helped me quite a bit, he orchestrated songs. But we always help each other. But eventually, we figured out how to do it. Towards the end of the process, I said to Taylor, ‘I really feel that I need to try a few experiment and try to elevate a few moments on the record because we have time, and we’ve really done a ton of work here, and it all sounds great, but I think we can go even further.’ And then she said, ‘Well what does that mean?’ And I explained how that would work, and the way that we work. Our process is very community-oriented, and we have long-time collaborators that we have a good understanding with. So I was able to say, to my friends, ‘This is a song I’m working on, I can’t send it to you with the vocals, and I can’t tell you what it is, but I can explain what I’m imagining.’ And the same with my brother, he knows my music so well that that was very easy for him to just take things that we were working on, add to that, and do his kind of work. So it was all remote and everyone was in their corner and we were shipping things around. It was incredibly fast because of that, because you didn’t have eight people needing to come to the studio. You had eight people working simultaneously - one in France and one in L.A. and one in Brooklyn. This is how it went, and it was fun. We got there.

When were you able to tell everyone who contributed that this was the Taylor Swift record, what was their reaction? You can imagine. I think they realized it was something big because [of] the confidentiality, and they were like, ‘It could only be a few things.’ I couldn’t tell them until, basically, when she announced it. Just in the moments after she announced it, I basically told everyone. I was like, ‘By the way…’ And they were thrilled. Everyone’s thrilled. Nobody seemed mad, everyone was thrilled and honored. Even Justin Vernon had not heard anything else except “Exile,” even though the pulse of that song “Peace,” he gave that song to me. It was important to have it be a surprise, and you know how it can be with someone in her position, with all the speculation, and she’s always under a lot of pressure like that. So it was really important to the creative freedom she was feeling that this remained a secret, so she could just do what we were doing.

Being such longtime friends and collaborators with Justin, what was it like hearing “Exile” for the first time? His voice and Taylor’s together? He’s so versatile and has such a crazy range, and puts so much emotion… Every time he sings when I’m in his presence, my head just kind of hits the back of the wall. That’s the same on this song. William Bowery and Taylor wrote that song together, got it to a certain point, then I sort of interpreted it and developed a recording of it, and then Taylor tracked both the male and female parts. And then we sent it to Justin and he re-did obviously the male parts and changed a few things and also added his own: He wrote the “step right out” part of the bridge, and Taylor re-sang to that. You feel like, in a weird way, you’re watching two of the greatest songwriters and vocalists of our generation collaborating. I was facilitating it and making it happen, and playing all the music. But it was definitely a “Wow.” I was just a fan at that point, seeing it happen.

Are there any moments that really stick out to you as particularly pivotal in shaping the sound of this record? The initial response. When we first connected, and I sent a folder of music and Taylor wrote “Cardigan,” and she said, “This is abnormal. Why do you have all these songs that are so emotional and so moving to me? This feels fated.” And then she just dove into it and embraced this emotional current. And I hope that’s what people take out of it: The humanity in her writing and melodies. It’s a different side to her. She could have been every bit as successful just making these kinds of songs, but it’s so great that she’s also made everything that she’s ever made, and this is a really interesting shift, and an emotional one. It also opens other doors, because now it’s kind of like she can go wherever she wants, creatively. The pressure to make a certain kind of… bop - or whatever you want to call it - is not there really anymore. And I think that’s really liberating, and I hope her fans and the world are excited by that because I am. It’s really special.

[raysofcrosby]

NOW THAT I FOUND YOU – M. BARZAL

requested: yes | no

warning(s): cursing, slight mentions of sex, but other than that, nothing.

word count: 5,868

authors note: welcome to my new series :) i have no idea how long this is going to last, but i’m pretty excited for it. so, first things first, considering what i have planned for the character of jeremy, i didn’t want to use a real rangers player. so jeremy is a fictional dude on the team. i think that’s it for now, i’m not really sure what else i can think of about this series. so, oh well, enjoy :)

my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

"I can't take it anymore!" Tito said, storming into the locker room and stomping his way over to his cubby. "I am literally going to take her to the Brooklyn bridge and throw her into the Hudson."

Mat looked up from his skates and over at his best friend as he plopped down into his cubby, huffing, and puffing as he got undressed. He looked over at Anders, who was looking at Brass...the three of them all sharing confused looks at their locker neighbor. "Uh, you okay over there Tito?" Anders asked, looking at Mat for at least the slightest hint as to what he could be rambling on about.

"No clue," Mat mouthed, shrugging his shoulders and looking back down as he continued to tie his skate.

"No, I'm not okay," Tito tossed his sweatshirt into his cubby and stepped out of his joggers. "Does anyone want a newly 22-year-old female college student? Because I have one and I'm not opposed to passing her off before I result to murder."

"I'm pretty sure that is illegal, buddy," Jordan said, walking by and patting him on the shoulder. "Both are, actually. Like, highly illegal."

"Oh, God Tito," Matt said, coming out from the bathrooms. "What are you bitching about now?"

"She ironed my underwear." Tito tugged on his pants over his compression shorts and sighed, shaking his head.

"What?" Mat laughed, reaching behind him and grabbing his compression shirt.

"Y/N...she ironed my underwear," he stood up and turned towards his cubby, pulling a pair of ironed boxers out of the duffle he had carried in with him and turned back towards the guys. "I went to grab a pair this morning and I was greeted with this! They're stiff, feel powdery and quite frankly smell like shit–"

"Are you sure that's the soap and not just your horrible hygiene?" Matt joked, tossing a water bottle at him.

"Manchuk...Matty," Tito smiled, turning in their direction. "How do you two feel about having a live-in nanny? Her cooking skills are subpar unless even worse if the recipe comes off of Pinterest. She consumes more wine than water– but she's great with kids."

"I'm just finding it hard to believe your only problem with Y/N is the fact she ironed your underwear," Jordan said, shaking his head. "What's the catch?"

"Yeah, there's got to be something else that has you considering pre-meditated murder," Matt chimed in with a loud laugh.

"I NEED TO GET LAID, all right?!" Tito yelled, tossing his ironed pair of boxers back into the duffle bag. "I need to have hot, drunken sex with a stranger who lets herself out in the morning! I need to get laid so fucking bad, but I can't do it with my sister in the room across from mine! It's gross."

The locker room was silent as his teammates just stared at him. Mat wanted to laugh at his best friend but didn't want to do it at his expense. Sure, he'd been there a time or two, what young guy in his 20's hasn't. But never had he yelled about it to his teammates in such an exaggerated fashion. "Have you thought about telling her that?" Mat asked, grabbing his practice jersey and sliding it on over his head. "Y/N's pretty reasonable, I'm sure she'd agree to go to a friends or something for the night."

"Oh yeah, let me just go ahead and tell my little sister, 'hey, do you mind getting out of the apartment for the night? I need to get my dick sucked. Thanks, don't tell mom!'" Tito sat down to put on his skates, giving Mat a sarcastic look. "Does that sound good to you, Barzy?"

"I don't know about Barzy, but that sounds great to me," Matt laughed as he tied his pants. "Why is she staying at your place? I thought she was in Uni? Doesn't she have a dorm?"

"Nope, she followed her doucheface of a boyfriend down here and he convinced her to stay in his apartment instead of getting a dorm." He stood up and reached into his locker, grabbing his practice jersey. "Next thing I know, she shows up at my door crying, saying they broke up and she's been at my place ever since."

Mat remembered that night. He and Tito were pre-gaming, finishing off their drinks, and waiting for the uber to arrive. They were coming off of a high, absolutely destroying the Maple Leafs 5-0 and that high followed them home. Everyone on the team was going out– it was a well called for a celebration, even the guys with families at home. Normally, the team would pregame together before taking ubers over to whatever club or bar they decided to take over for the night. But those who did have kids at home wanted to stop at home and say goodnight to their wives and kids before heading out.

They were talking about whether or not they wanted to wait up here for the uber or wait down on the street when a knock barely made noise about Tito's playlist. Mat thought he had heard something but wasn't sure if he had confused it with the bass or not. So, he brushed it off. It wasn't until a small break in the song when the two of them could hear three rapid knocks, followed by the sound of your voice coming from the other side of the door, did they know that you were there.

Mat was closest to the door, so he was the one who walked over and looked through the peephole. He knew it was you just based on the sound of your voice from when you knocked, but, it didn't hurt to be safe and check to see who was at the door– that way Tito couldn't blame him if he let a random into his apartment. He recognized the hoodie you were wearing, it was the Beauvillier Islanders hoodie that Tito had gotten you for your birthday just this past summer. Mat told him it was a stupid gift, but Tito laughed, saying that it was his way of tricking you into finally wearing something in support of him since you had stopped wearing Islanders gear the moment you started dating Jeremy last fall. A Rangers player you had met on a girls' night out in the city. "A mix of interests" as your excuse, and Tito was bothered that his sister wouldn't wear his team's logo anymore– but instead, the logo on their top rival.

It was a mess, but one that Mat never, ever wanted to get involved with.

But there you were, dripping wet from the thunderstorm that had been hovering over the city from the moment he walked into Barclay to play. You had the hood on your head and you were avoiding eye-contact with the door– but he knew it was you. So, he opened the door with no hesitations, barely getting out a simple hi before you brushed by him and darted down the hallway, a door slamming behind you.

Tito, in true fashion, paused his music and stomped after you, mumbling about how you were just going to stroll into his apartment, that he pays for, and slam his doors without even saying hello. Mat remembered laughing, just because the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was an interesting one. He came back a few moments later, shoving his phone into his pocket and walked over to Mat. He said that he couldn't get much out of you but the fact that you and Jeremy had broken up and he needed to pay the cab driver downstairs $40 for driving you from Manhattan.

Tito was a good brother. He could be a huge pain in the ass, sure. You and he had had more than your fair shares of endless, rigorous chirping fights that most of the time, left Mat standing there just looking between the two of you like he was watching a match. But still to this day, Mat could never understand why Tito didn't seem all that bothered about how abruptly you had walked into his apartment. Tito had you and Francis, and more often than not, always brushed you off as one of the guys thanks to your tomboy upbringing. Mat had a sister and she's dated one too many assholes for his liking, so he could spot it from a mile away.

Your face was swollen and red and he was more than positive that you had cried the entire car ride there.

And you've been living at Tito's ever since.

"I'm serious, I need her to leave," Tito was following behind him as they left the locker room to head out to the rink. "And I can't just kick her out."

"You literally just talked about shoving her into the Hudson," Jordan laughed, shaking his head. "I think you can do something as simple as, 'hey, maybe you should find someone to stay with for a while.'"

Tito just rolled his eyes as he stepped out onto the ice, skating beside Matt. "I'm serious Barzy, I think she's driving me insane."

"It was one incident, Tito," Mat said, shaking his head. "Y/N isn't that bad."

"It wasn't just one incident," they cut the corner, Mat pushing himself ahead. "She almost burnt down my kitchen trying to make breakup cupcakes. She's redecorated my bathroom with bath bombs and make-up, she even got rid of my Shrek shower curtain!"

"To be fair, that's your guest bathroom and that Shrek shower curtain was hideous"

"Regardless! She's slowly taking over my entire apartment and turning it into her...her...her stupid lovesick breakup reno project!" He tossed his arms up in the air, letting them fall back down and almost hitting Brass in the head. "Oops, sorry bud!"

Mat laughed as they cut another corner, shaking his head. "Have you ever tried talking to her?"

"No, because then she'd get her puppy eyes all going and I'd feel like even more of a douche for wanting her out." He huffed, shaking his head. "I need an excuse, something to just...get her out for a few weeks until I can find her someplace to stay for the rest of the year. Then plead with her housing office to find her a dorm."

"I don't know what to tell you, man." Mat said, skating ahead.

"I'll come up with something, I'm sure I can cash in a favor somewhere." Tito sighed, as the two of them joined the rest of their team at center ice for stretching.

Mat just laughed, shaking his head at his best friend. Sure, if he was in the same position, it wouldn't exactly be his ideal living situation to have his sister living across the hall– but he definitely wouldn't be as against it. At least, he didn't think so.

~

"I've figured it out."

Mat felt his foot slip against the wet tile and his heart practically jumped out of his chest as the slipping feeling. He held his right arm out, holding himself steady against the tile before ducking his head beneath the shower head, letting the conditioner rinse from his hair. He looked over his shoulder to see Tito standing at the opening of the shower area, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Yeah, can we not talk about this right now?"

"I'm just letting you know, I figured it out." Tito smiled, nodding before walking away from the shower.

Mat shook his head, spitting out some water before turning off the water and grabbing the towel he had hung up just to the right. He wrapped it around his waist, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair to get all of the excess water out. He almost dreaded making his way back towards the locker room. Tito had been pestering him all practice, trying to make him come up with ways he could kick you out.

Fake an insect infestation? No, then he'd have to leave his apartment too.

Figure out a way to get some flooding in her room? But then he'd have to hire someone to clean up all of the water.

Every outrageous idea possible had crossed his mind and Mat had to listen to it for the entire practice. As if the practice itself hadn't been draining on him, listening to him go on and on was even more.  But, he was playing the best friend role, and did say he would help him on one condition– it didn't involve hurting your feelings.

"Great, you're here, now listen–"

"No to the insects. No to an animal break-in and we already decided that pouring water on her stuff and saying a pipe was leaking wouldn't work," Mat said, sitting down in his locker and looking at Tito. "What in the hell could you have come up with now?"

"Remember how I said I could cash in a favor?"

Mat nodded, standing up and grabbing his street clothes as he turned his back to Tito. "Yeah, did you figure it out?"

"I sure did."

Mat stepped into his boxer briefs and dropped the towel as he picked up his joggers. "All right? And who's the poor sucker?" Tito hadn't replied as fast as he had been and Mat would be lying if he said it wasn't a little concerning. He tugged the waistband of his joggers up before turning to see Tito smiling at him. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at the poor sucker who owes me a favor." He had his classic shit-eating smirk on his face, the kind cameras always zoomed in the moment he checked someone hard.

Mat blinked once, twice, three times before the reality set in. His brain was racing through every recent time he spent with Tito, never once remembering an event where he said that he owed him a favor. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You owe me a–"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you said," Mat put his arms through his sweatshirt, tugging his down and over his head before running his fingers through his hair again. "But I don't know what you're talking about. When did I ever owe you a favor?"

"When I saved your ass that night at Nest when you were picking up the redhead but that hot tinder girl with blue hair you invited showed up." Tito stood up and walked over to Mat, still smiling. "I performed the perfect, switcharoo maneuver so that the redhead never noticed you took tinder girl home."

"You took the redhead home! How is that helping me?" Mat turned towards his locker and grabbed his phone and Gatorade, shaking his head. "Besides, that was two years ago."

"It was a win for both of us! You didn't get totally bitchslapped in the club and I got laid," Tito followed behind him, staying on his heels. "It may have been two years ago, but you still said, 'Tito, man...I owe you one.'"

"I don't–"

Tito cut him off, standing in front of him as they stood in the hall. He crossed his arms, his smile falling from his face. "And now I'm cashing it in. You're helping me get Y/N out of my apartment."

Mat rolled his eyes, resting his hands on his hips. "And how exactly am I supposed to help you with that? You've literally exhausted every plausible option." When Tito didn't come up with a reply, Mat just shook his head and brushed by him.

"I've got an idea bro, I swear," He jogged up behind him as they walked out of the arena to head towards the parking lot. "But, you're probably not going to like it."

As the crisp fall air greeted them, Mat could hear the voice in the back of his head telling him not to entertain Tito. A gut feeling deep inside that this wasn't going to work out– none of Tito's ideas ever worked out. "What is it?"

Tito hesitated, unsure just how his best friend would reply. Sure, he's had plenty of other crazy ideas before– but this one might just be way out there. But he didn't care, he was a young, physical and thriving man in his early 20's– and at this point, he didn't care about logical reasoning. He just desperately needed to get laid. And if that meant brushing his sister off onto his best friend, he'd do it.

"You're going to pretend you're utterly heartbroken from some break up and can't be alone–"

Mat stopped in his tracks, whipping around to Tito with wide eyes. "Dude what the–"

"Y/N is a total empath and when I tell her all about your emotional turmoil and that I don't know how to help, she'll no doubt step in. Then I'll just figure something out to keep her out of my apartment and boom, problem solved."

"Problem not solved!" Mat yelled, waving his hand at Tito. "Your problem literally has about a million plot holes in it!"

Tito closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing before opening them and looking at Mat. "I'm going to need you to hear me out before you say no– which, may I remind you, isn't an option anyway."

Mat took a deep breath and sighed, knowing damn well that somewhere down the line, he'd regret this very moment he even gave Tito the chance to explain. Even his initial explanation seemed so fucking stupid that there was no way it could ever work out. But maybe, if he allowed him to explain, he'd realize just how unrealistic his plan was, and just drop the entire idea then man up and tell Y/N to stay with a friend. "Fine," he stopped at his car, unlocking it so Tito could get into the passenger seat. "But you're buying lunch."

~

This was such a bad idea– he knew it would be. From the moment the suggestion left Tito's mouth the first time, Mat knew it wouldn't work. There's no way it could. Hell, even Liana said it was when he called her for advice after his lunch. And as far as common sense goes, he likes to think that Liana has a lot more

Tito's plan stayed the same– Mat was supposed to play brokenhearted and after lunch, the two of them would go over to his apartment, where you would be home from class. Tito would comment on how Mat 'hasn't been the same' and make a joke about how the two of you should just live together in your misery. You, the empath that you were, would take an interest in Mat's "broken heart" and offer to help in any way. Tito, knowing Mat was actually in the middle of turning the third guest bedroom in his apartment into a man-cave/gaming room and how much you love decorating, I.E. his bathroom, would suggest that maybe you could help him with that too.

It wouldn't work, Mat was convinced of that from the moment the entire idea left Tito's mouth. He'd known you almost as long as he knew Tito, meeting you the summer after the 2015 IIHF World U18 Championship. You were only a year younger than them both and for the three weeks that Mat had stayed with your family, he felt like he got to know you pretty well. You guys weren't best friends by any means, but you were definitely good friends. Your friendship growing when you decided to transfer to Fordham and when you weren't hanging out with Jeremy or your classmates, you were with Tito, Mat, and their teammates.

Needless to say, he was confident walking into the apartment knowing that there was no way that you would fall for this horrible excuse. You wouldn't leave your room in Tito's apartment to come and stay with Mat because he was "too brokenhearted to function." But leave it to Tito to think that you would fall for it. He tried not to break character, he really did. But how the hell was he supposed to pretend to be brokenhearted from a failed relationship, when he's never felt that?

He's had relationships before, sure. Break-ups? Absolutely. But none so bad that he felt like he wanted to drink himself into a slumber or just hide under the covers for the rest of time. He had outlets to get out any negative emotion. He had hockey and he had the boxing classes he attended with Tito every now and again. Besides that, he never had strong feelings for someone to the point where he was feeling what you were feeling.

As predicted, you had agreed to go with Tito and Mat over to Mat's apartment to see just what he had to deal with. He felt a twinge of guilt when you started to ask the simple questions:

How are you feeling?

Do you want to talk about it?

What happened?

He and Tito hadn't gotten that far in the plan– creating a backstory, which should have been another sign that this was never going to end well. So, on the ride to his apartment, he just stuck with short answered replies– "fine" "not yet" "it's still too soon." And he wanted nothing more than to smack Tito in the passenger seat, who was trying his damndest not to laugh.

When they got to the apartment hours later, Mat led you to the third guest room, showing you just everything he had. In a corner on tarps, he had three cans of paint, all unopened and a bunch of painting supplies. In the middle of the room, boxed furniture he'd been too lazy to move. He was barely focused on what you were saying when he felt his phone vibrate and saw Tito nodding at him.

Tito: see? i told u. total diy/renovator. you could get free labor out of this.

Mat: one problem there, bud. she doesn't seem too keen to get out of your apartment. all she's done is offer to take me to lunch for the next week to 'talk about my feelings'

Tito: okay? go talk about your feelings.

Mat: I DON'T HAVE ANY FEELINGS

Mat: I DON'T HAVE A RECENT EX-GIRLFRIEND

"Are you two okay?" You asked, almost scaring the two boys. Mat shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket, staring at you with wide eyes. You had an eyebrow raised and looked awfully suspicious of them both.

"Do you guys want dinner?" Tito asked, already heading towards the door. "I can order some pizzas from down the street."

"That's okay," You said, following him towards the door. "I've got this new enchilada recipe I wanted to try and–"

"No!" Tito couldn't be any less obvious that he didn't want you to follow him, his raised voice causing you to step back and look at him in shock. "I uh, I mean...I already ordered them. Barzy and I talked about it...right?"

Mat glared at Tito, wishing deep down that this plan would fail, but knowing that he couldn't leave his best friend out to dry. "Yeah...we did." He turned to you, crossing his arms. "Hope that's okay."

"No, it's fine," you replied, nodding. "Pizza is good."

Tito clapped his hands together and smiled. "Great, I'll be right back!"

He couldn't have run out of the apartment any faster, leaving you and Mat there standing in the middle of the room. This wasn't part of the plan and Mat was pissed. He stared at the door, contemplating telling you about your brother's ulterior motive to all of this– but it wouldn't hurt Tito...it would hurt you. So he decided against it and turned to you, sighing. "We can go wait in the living room for him to come back."

You nodded and followed him out of the guest room, walking down the hallway. "Can I have something to drink?"

"Water? Wine?" He asked, waving you over to the couch as he stopped in the kitchen. "Tequila?" God, how he wanted a drink. At least it might alleviate the headache Tito's antics were causing.

"It's Monday," you laughed, leaning against the back of the couch. "I guess I could go for some wine."

"White or Red?"

"You have both?"

He laughed, turning around and placing two unopened bottles– one of each. "My mom likes red, I like white. It's her leftover bottle from when she was here a two weeks ago."

"I'll take a glass of white, thank you."

He nodded, putting the bottle of red back into the fridge before moving towards his cabinets and opening the drinking glasses– reaching up to the top and grabbing two wine glasses. When he turned back around, he looked over at you, ready to say something, but he stopped.

You were still leaning against the back of his couch, left arm draped across your stomach as the other held onto your phone. You were chewing on the inside of your cheek, your eyes glued to the screen. He normally wouldn't think anything of it, except for the look on your face. Even from where he was standing, he could notice the frown and the way that your eyebrows were burrowed towards each other. He noticed your fingers on your left hand were fidgeting, plucking at your Fordham long sleeve. Everything about you standing there was just...small, quiet– radiating energy that said, 'I don't want anyone to see me.' Which, in all of the years that he knew you, was the complete opposite of who you were.

He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Jeremy did to screw you up this bad.

He poured your glasses, putting the cork back into the bottle, and made his way to you. You were so lost in your phone, that it wasn't until he cleared his throat, that you realized he was standing there.

"Oh," you stood up a little straighter, putting your phone into your front pocket before taking the wine glass from him. "Sorry, I was just..."

"No need," he said, waving you off. "I don't need an explanation." He walked around the couch and sat down, nodding at you to join him.

You sighed, taking a sip of your wine before sitting down beside him, sinking back against the cushion. "So, Tito hasn't tried taking you to a strip club to help you out of your breakup funk?"

Mat laughed, his head leaning back against the cushion. "No, he hasn't," he took a sip of the wine, tilting his head to the side. "I don't think he'd leave if he did."

"He tried to offer to drop me off at that knockoff Magic Mike, two days ago." He looked at you like you had two heads, his mind spinning in circles at just how long Tito has been trying to get you out of his apartment. "It didn't work, it's not my scene."

"Male strippers?"

"Male strippers that aren't the cast of Magic Mike," you joked, laughing softly as you stared down into your wine. "I don't know, I just haven't really been in the mood to do anything besides go to class and sleep."

He wasn't sure how to reply. Even with Liana, he'd never really been that open with talking to her about his relationships or hers. That was a no-touch topic in their siblingship– only ever talking about it, just to say that they were seeing someone new. Never what happened during or after. Not to mention, he was supposed to be like you, heartbroken. He tried to copy your mannerisms– slumped into the couch, relaxed face– he even went as far as to try and tell himself to copy the tone in your voice.

But all he felt was guilt for playing into Tito's scheme and a genuine need to talk to you about what happened. He just didn't know how to go about it.

Your phone rang before he could ask you the dreaded 'how are you feeling' question, and you sighed, digging your phone out of your pocket and putting your wine glass down on the table. "What, Anthony?"

Mat held back his laughter as he took a sip of his wine. One thing was for sure, your attitude towards your brother hadn't changed from pre-breakup. He looked at you, your eyebrows knitted together as you brought your hand up to your forehead, rubbing it. "What do you mean? Is my stuff–" you sighed, closing your eyes. "No, you won't get electrocuted if you–"

He reached out, bumping his elbow against yours and raising an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

You looked at him, shaking your head as you pulled your phone away from your ear. "He forgot his wallet at home and went back to the apartment– I guess something leaked and my bathroom and room are flooded."

Mat had to act like he was surprised, but if anything he was pissed. This was the one scenario that they didn't agree on– simply because it wasn't fucking plausible. "Well have you talked to him? Maybe there's–"

Your head fell back against the cushion and you closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't leave a faucet on, I didn't even go into my bathroom before we– can you stop interrupting me?"

He could hear Tito rambling on through the other side of the phone, no doubt barely giving you time to talk because he didn't want you to fill in the gaps of his fake story. "Well, where am I supposed to go?"

Mat chewed on his bottom lip, bringing the glass up to his lips as he knew this was when Tito was suggesting that you stay with him. He couldn't look at you because the guilt was taking over. He could tell you were stressed and obviously, Tito hadn't been exaggerating at just how bad you were after the breakup with Jeremy. And if he looked at you any longer, the guilt would swallow him up and he'd cave in and tell you everything.

"No, I'm not asking–" you sighed, taking a few deep breaths and exhaling before speaking again. "Because Anthony, it's rude! "

Mat felt like reaching over and grabbing your phone, ending the plan then and there. But again, he knew that the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was a lot different than any other one. Tito knew when to stop pushing, you were his sister after all. So, he sat next to you, sipping on his wine and waited for you to ask the question they'd been pushing you to do all along.

"Can you just...ask, please?" His eyes went wide the moment he heard the emotion in your whispered reply. "I can't just...move everything, I don't even have everything. It's all at Jer–" you stopped yourself, sitting up and hunching over, resting your head in your free hand. "And he said that's all that was available?"

He kept sneaking looks at you from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge whether or not the emotion in your voice was leading to tears. He brought his phone out of his jacket, opening to type a message to Tito.

"Fine, I'll...I'll just ask," he froze as you turned to him, holding your phone away from your ear. "Hey Mat?"

He placed his phone face down and away from your sight of vision you couldn't see that he was about to send a text to Tito. "Yeah?" Yikes, that wasn't casual enough. "What's up?" Better.

You were holding back tears and for the first time, he could see the dark circles beneath your eyes, still peaking out from whatever make-up you had put on that morning. Yeah, this plan wasn't good– this on was definitely a punch in the gut. "Do you think I could stay here? I don't have much and I–"

"Yeah, no," he cleared his throat. "No, I mean yeah...you can. I've got the guest bedroom."

You nodded, looking away from him and brought the phone back up to your ear. "There, happy?"

Oh, you have no idea how happy Tito was, was all that Mat could think as he brought his phone back out. "Can I at least come and get some stuff to– Yeah...okay. Yeah, see you."

You hung up the phone and your head fell back against the cushion, eyes closed. Mat looked at you, wondering whether or not he should dare to see if you were okay. He started to reach a hand out to nudge your arm when his phone vibrated.

Tito: IT WORKED! I'M FREE!

Tito: well...at least for the next week i am. i’ll need to figure out another excuse for the extra week i guess.

Mat: dude...i don't think this is a good idea. y/n's like...really emotional right now.

Tito: AND I'M GOING ON A TWO WEEK DRYSPELL.

Mat: okay, get laid tonight and let her come back.

Tito: nope. i'm using all seven days of this time and look on the bright side, now you'll get the guestroom done faster than you planned.

Mat: are you at least coming back with the pizza?

Tito: no, just her clothes. caroline is coming over in an hour.

He laughed in disbelief, shaking his head as he looked at you– still lying in the same position from when you hung up the phone.

Mat: dude, you so owe me one.

Tito: 👍🏻

Mat put his phone back into his jacket pocket and turned to you. He was sure that the movement on the couch would have been enough to get you to open your eyes– but you didn't budge. He reached out and nudged your arm and you opened your eyes and turned to look at him. "What do you think about Chinese?"

"Let me guess, he's not getting the pizza?" You asked, drained of any energy.

Mat bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. "No, he said they were packed," the lie was a lot better than telling her the truth. "If you're not feeling Chinese, we can go to Chipotle?"

"I don't know," you sighed, picking up the wine glass and taking a long sip. "Do you think we'd miss him?"

Not in a million years. Even if they did, he'd just drop the bag of belongings in front of Mat's door, no doubt.

"I'll buy you a large guac and a large queso," He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Free of charge."

"You had me at large guac." You looked at him and then back at your wine glass, downing the rest before placing it back onto the table and turning towards Mat. "Besides, he's the one who didn't bother to offer me the couch in the new 1 bedroom he'd be staying in until everything is fixed. He can wait a few extra minutes if we're not back in time."

Mat just nodded, standing up with you and playing into your mood. "Yeah, fuck that guy."

You laughed, and for the first time since he walked into yours and Tito’s apartment...he saw you smile. He felt proud of himself for being able to cheer you up in some way. And maybe, he thought, if Tito wasn't going to look out for you...he could.

It was only for seven days, how bad could it be?

[baka-monarch]

👉👈 soulmate au where whatever you write appears on the other's arm but one is smol and the other is the human who caught them. 👉👈

Was scrolling through my WIPs when I saw this thing I wrote at some point around the beginning of summer. It was supposed to have more chapters, and he gets caught eventually, but here's chapter 1. But then I remembered your ask and how I'd been having writer's block, so I hope this will suffice! Also, it has trans Patton, so don't freak out because of Logan's soul mate

Just A Little Emo

Chapter 1 (idk if I'm ever going to finish the other chapters if I'm being honest)

Virgil had just turned three not even a month ago, but loved to play with the marker tips his parents had borrowed for his present. He didn’t have any paper scraps to doodle on, but that didn’t stop him as his arm got covered with every color he could fit on there. He stuck out his tongue, laying on the ground, focused on his masterpiece. His oversized hoodie, from his mom, was discarded to the side, giving him full access to the canvas that was his skin. He was so focused that when suddenly a little flower was drawn out of nowhere, he jumped making a startled noise as he waved his hand around trying to get it off.

“Virgil, what’s wrong?” His mother spoke gently, as she came to investigate.

“Fower!?” Virgil held out his little hand showing her the illustration still being added to by an unknown hand. His mother smiled softly, knowing exactly what was going on.

“Honey, that’s your soul mate.” She picked him up, and held his hand so he could watch as more detail was added.

“Souw matt?” He looked at her curiously.

“”What you draw on your skin, your soulmate will see too, and when they draw it’ll be just for you!”” His mother quoted, booping him on the nose on the last word. “Your soulmate is your true love, the person you’re meant to be with. When you draw on your skin, you’re showing them that you care, and that you will always be there for them…” She trailed off sadly at the end.

“Daddy souw matt?” Virgil pointed to his mother’s hand, not noticing her change of mood.

“No, daddy isn’t my soulmate. I’m afraid neither of us have met ours yet.” She looked down at her hand, where there was currently a picture of a small four leaf clover, with its leaves designed like hearts. “Most borrowers don’t ever meet their soulmate.”

“Mommy?” Virgil squished her cheeks between his hands, getting marker ink all her face, smiling when she gave him a confused look. “Souw matt see wove now!” She giggled at his words.

“Yes, Virgil, they can see how much I love them now.” Some words were written on her arm making her chuckle, Virgil tried to make sense of the scribbles, but had no idea what they meant. “Why don’t you go draw something for your soulmate while I make dinner, okay?”

“Okie!” He giggled jumping off her lap. He grabbed his markers and started coloring in the flower that was being drawn. His mother smiled fondly at him.

Neither of them knew that this was going to be their last memory together. That, after that night Virgil’s father would leave her, taking Virgil with him.

⇔

Virgil spent two years without a mom. His dad explained that he’d found out his soulmate didn’t live too far away and had made plans in secret to be with her by meeting at a house close to where each lived. Unfortunately, they had miscalculated and Virgil’s dad had to take care of Virgil alone for two years. Throughout that time Virgil was left alone in the walls often, and had a game him and his soulmate would play. One of them would start a drawing and the other would finish it, they did that and many other things together just through their connection alone. Neither of them knew how to read or write yet, so when Virgil felt alone he would talk to himself, imagining that his soulmate was there with him, listening to all of his random little thoughts.

Little did he know that his soulmate was doing the same thing.

Roman King could remember that night clear as day. He had woken up from his nap time to find his arms and hands covered with all sorts of colors, with more still appearing. He had rushed out of the nursery, ignoring his snoring brother, and straight(lol)to his mom. “Mommy! Mommy!” His mother turned around from the cooking pasta at her son’s distressed voice, seeing tears pricking his eyes as he held out his arms with fear. It didn’t take her long to understand. She picked up her sniffling son, wiping his tears away. “Mommy, there color o-on m-m-me, a-a-and i-it’s sti-il coming!” 

“Shh, shh.” She rubbed the tears and snot from his face. “It’s okay sweetheart, it’s okay, it’s only your soulmate.”

“Saoul malt?” He looked at her confused, then back down at his arms, trying to see if there was something there, other than the colors. His mother chuckled fondly.

“Yes, your “saoul malt”.” She booped him on the nose. “”What you draw on your skin, your soulmate will see too, and when they draw it’ll be just for you!”” She tapped his arm as an example. “Your soulmate is drawing for you Roman, it means that they love you.”

“Wove?” Roman’s eyes widened and sparkled at the familiar word.

“Yes, love, like Sleeping Beauty and Prince Charming.” She chuckled as he looked down at his arms with wonder and delight.

“Pwincess?” He held his arms out to her in question.

“Maybe, you’ll never know until you meet her, Prince Roman.” She smiled as he gasped with wonder. His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Do you wanna draw for her?” She grabbed a discarded marker off the counter and held it out to him.

“Mhm!” He snatched the marker and wiggled out of her arms as she set him down. As soon as he was back on the floor he fell to his bum and uncapped the marker. It only took him a few seconds to think of what to draw for his princess. A flower. It was perfect, what princess doesn’t like a flower?

⇔

For the next two years Roman always had a marker on him just so he could draw with his soulmate. You could almost say that they were inseparable. It was during these two years that Roman started preschool, while there he learned a little about writing, mainly his name, but that didn’t stop him from picking up the skill quickly as he wrote and rewrote his name on his arm over and over again hoping that someday he would know more about these scribbles so he could ‘talk’ to his soulmate.

One day as Virgil was coloring one of his soulmate’s doodles he saw a series of scribbles appear. Although he recognized them as words, he had no idea what they meant. Not knowing what else to do, he mimicked the scribbles to show that he saw them to his soulmate. In return his soulmate scribbled again, and Virgil in turn copied him. They kept doing this, scribbling and rescribbleing, each new scribble being more clearer and clean. At some point Virgil even ran out of room on his arms, so he listed his oversized hoodie and started scribbling there.

“What’re ya doin there Spiderman?” His dad asked as he returned from borrowing.

“Souw matt.” Virgil pointed at the scribbles, showing the red ink where his soulmate had scribbled and the black ink where he had copied them. Virgil’s dad recognized what the scribbles were and what they said easily.

“It’s your soulmate’s name Spiderman.” He explained as he picked up his son.

“Na-ame?” Virgil sounded out.

“Yeah, it looks like your soulmate is Roman.” His father smiled.

“Wroammin?” Virgil tried the name.

“Yeah, Roman.” His father said a little more hard, trying to help his son to understand the name.

“Raman.” Virgil smiled, proud that he ‘got’ the name. His dad chuckled at his son’s attempt, but still proud how close he was.

“Do you wanna write your name?” He gently took the marker tip, ready to help the kid.

“Yeah!” Virgil exclaimed with stars in his eyes. 

⇔

It wasn’t until later that night that Roman saw a series of scribbles appear on his arm, spelling out, what his mom claimed said, “Virgil.” Through the next two years up until kindergarten, Roman did all he could to learn about writing, as Virgil worked with his dad when he could to learn how to write in return. It wasn’t until the first day of kindergarten that Roman realized that there was more to reading and writing than just talking to your soulmate.

“Hello class, my name is Mrs. Parrot, and welcome to kindergarten.” Roman was five now, and was in kindergarten. Roman barely heard the teacher as he and Virgil tried to write each other’s names more fancier than the other. So far it seemed that Virgil was winning as he added all these little stars and curly letters, but Roman was determined to win. He paid no mind to the rest of the class or the teacher, as he wrote Virgil’s name on his arm in bubble letters, using all the markers he had to color them in, adding little spiders and skulls (he knew Virgil liked them from all the times they finished each other’s drawings), and making sure that there was more than enough purple. In fact he was so engrossed that he hadn't noticed the class sharing their names, hadn’t noticed all the eyes that had focused on him from his assigned table, hadn’t noticed the lesson, and had definitely not noticed the teacher's annoyance. Well, he hadn’t noticed until the teacher snached all of his markers away.

“Hey!” Roman glared up at her. It didn’t take long for her to see his soulmate’s writing on his arm.

“I understand if you want to write to your soulmate, but please pay attention.” She snapped before clicking back to her desk, depositing the markers into her desk. “You’ll get these back at the end of class.” Was all she said before returning to teaching. Roman only pouted, perfectly content with not paying attention until then.

“My soulmate also draws to me during school.” To Roman’s left there was a boy about his age, except he looked uptight with his hair made well and the little suit he wore. The boy fixed his glasses before holding out a hand for him to shake. “I am Logan.” As Roman went to shake the hand, he almosted wanted to laugh in surprise, despite Logan’s cold exterior his arm was covered in cute little drawings, most of which were goofy little cartoons. Roman hesitated to collect himself before taking the hand to shake it.

“Roman.” As their hands shook they noticed that their soulmates had stopped drawing momentarily. When they pulled their hands apart, Roman noticed that he had gotten some of his purple ink on Logan’s hand. Instead of Logan being distraught, his eyes widened in amazement as the word ‘Virgil’ appeared next to the smudge, he looked at Roman’s hand to find the word ‘Peggy’ written on his. “Peggy?” Roman questioned.

“She’s my soulmate.” Logan thought for a moment, “They must know each other.” he theorised.

“No way!” Roman exclaimed. “How do we know for sure?” Logan wasted no time in pulling out a marker of his own, keeping it and his hand under the desk. He didn’t normally break rules, but this was to test a hypothesis. He used Roman’s arm for reference as he wrote ‘Roman’ onto his arm. Only moments later did the word ‘Logan’ appear on Roman’s arm. “That’s so cool!”

“Indeed.” Logan breathed in surprise.

⇔

Virgil’s dad had recently found a small borrower settlement in an abandoned sewer pipe not even five feet away from the house they were living in. So when his dad was busy for the day, he left Virgil with one of the shop owners there, she had a daughter about Virgil’s age as well. Her name was Peggy, and Virgil got along with her well. It was on this particular day that Virgil and Peggy were left in a backroom of the shop unattended with some marker tips, and Virgil was doing all he could to write Roman’s name in the most magnificent way he could, as Roman was writing his name just as grand. Peggy watched from the side with intrigue as she drew little cartoony puppies every now and then on her arm. They didn’t really think much of their different arms, until Peggy brought up a point.

“What if our soulmates know each other?” She wondered aloud.

“There’s no way.” Virgil deadpanned, not looking up from his writing even though it seemed Roman had stopped. “It’s basically impossible.”

“Did your soulmate stop drawing?” She noted.

“We were writing, but yeah.” He stopped his scribbling for a moment to actually look at it.

“Well, my soulmate usually stops drawing around this time as well.” She explained. “Maybe they live together?”

“It’s probably just a coincidence.” Virgil tried, but there was no denying it when suddenly the splotch on Virgil’s hand was mirrored onto Peggy’s hand.

“See!?” She bounced with excitement and grabbed a marker tip. “What’s your name again?” 

“Uhm-”

“Nevermind!” She cut him off as she used his arm for reference, she quickly wrote his name next to the smudge on her hand, before grabbing Virgil’s hand.

“Hey!” He tried to pull it back, but there was nothing he could do as she wrote her name on his hand. “What was that for-” The words were lost on Virgil’s tongue as Roman’s name appeared on Peggy’s arm. “How…” 

“See! They do know each other!” She bounced.

“What’s your soulmate’s name?” Virgil asked.

“Logan!” She chirped.Virgil nodded and wrote Logan onto his arm. Moments later there was a little check mark next to the name, showing that Roman had seen it.

“Looks like they do know each other.”

[phoenotopia]

2020 August Update

For once, development has moved on time (sorta). I am happy to announce that the "Reveal and Launch" trailer for Phoenotopia Awakening will drop this morning at 9AM. And the game itself is set to launch for Nintendo Switch on August 20th.

You may recognize that August 20th is in fact the 6th year anniversary of the Flash game. I wasn't particularly aiming for this date - I actually wanted August 14th. It's like a minefield - even just one week offset forward or backward could put you into a crowded release slot. And you don't know how everyone's moving because they're also probably considering the same things. At some point you're locked in and you can't change course. In the end, I added 1 week to the time I wanted initially as an error buffer in case some things came up - which they did! So August 20 ended up being about just right for us and a neat coincidence to boot.

First half of July

The first half of July, I threw myself well into the PC port. The controls still need to be figured out, but we did make a lot of progress. I found out about a 3rd party library called "Rewired" which is all about supporting a multitude of different controllers, disconnects, reconnects, and so forth. It doesn't take us all the way there, but it did remove a lot of the headache involved.

There's still a lot of design involved concerning controller rebinding. For instance, how much of the controls do you expose and allow to be remapped? Technically, you could allow so much freedom that you can break the controls. One solution for that is to lock a portion of the keyboard to be unmappable and so you're never without controls that can remap a menu.

(my solution was to have a lock screen that confirms you have the necessary inputs to at least return to the rebind menu and fix the controls should they ever be set in so bad a state)

There are also some things that a joypad can do that a keyboard can't, and vice versa. For instance, the control stick allows 360 degrees of movement and detects sensitivity. How much you push the control stick will determine whether Gail walks or jogs. However, the buttons on the keyboard do not have sensitivity - they're either all ON or all OFF. Thus, there's no way to "walk" if using a keyboard. I could add a separate "hold to walk" button to the keyboard but that introduces an incongruence between the joypad and the keyboard.

(Rewired's interface for mapping keyboard and joypads. If a "hold to walk" action existed, it would only make sense for the keyboard column, but not the joypad column. Finding that perfect balance between joystick and keyboard will be a challenge.)

Another snag we've hit are button names. If using a Nintendo, Sony, or Microsoft controller, the Right Trigger is either going to be named ZR, R2, or RT. Rewired can be agnostic about joypads, which is great because it reduces the workload on my end, but the caveat is that buttons like this will simply be called "Right Trigger". (See that first image again). Not really elegant...

I can probably fix this after I've had more time to investigate. However, around this time I had to pause PC development, because the Switch version became unblocked and now required my full attention.

Second half of July

The 2nd half of July proved quite busy. As noted in my previous blog post, I thought the Switch version was on track and off my hands. Turns out there were a few more hurdles to clear, and the ball came back into my court, and it moved back and forth a few times. Luckily, the hurdles are really cleared now and we're set to release (August 20!). The specifics of this process are under NDA, so I won't go into details.

We also went around updating a bunch of the game's social media sites - facebook, twitter, youtube. The second half of July was also when we started acting in a PR capacity - we're combing websites and youtube channels and looking for people who look like they might want to cover Phoenotopia. This was fun! I used to read IGN daily over a decade ago (back when Matt and Fran ran the IGN Nintendo channel). Then college happened followed by early work life, and I wasn't able to follow videogames as much anymore. I didn't even have access to a TV for a few years. And I never found a new landing page after that, so combing for websites and youtube channels was a lot of fun. It was interesting to see how the landscape has changed, and the new depth and variety that exists.

We're set to send out a BUNCH of emails tomorrow. Will they catch? No idea... I think if I had 20 reviews on launch day on OpenCritic, I'd consider that a success. We'll see!

Fan Art 

This past month, we see a lot of fan artists cross Phoenotopia with other universes. Luckily, all universes I'm familiar with. I'm impressed by the creativity on display!

First, what if Gail appeared as an enemy in Undertale? Glittering_Touch_904 depicts the scene. Gale, like Sans, has only one eye shining meaning she's about to dish out some serious pain. Nice! Definitely choose the Mercy option.

R_Contagio answers the question of what would happen if Phoenotopia was depicted in the style of Limbo? And the answer is very pretty! I'm impressed by how everything is done with one color. Using a band of white to depict water, the creepy eyes on every creature, the patience in drawing each leaf... very impressive! I'd play this game!

UnrealWorld_32 depicts a scene that asks what it would look like if Gale was still back in Panselo when the invasion happens :D I'm impressed by the use of colors - they look like they could come from the game itself! I think it wouldn't be a fair fight. For the invader.

A rare scene, Didi depicts Gail, hammer at the ready, approaching a dreaded Phoenix Pod. We get lots of depictions of 66, but rarely of the pod itself! In the Flash game, we skirt around how the pod opens by having it opened off-screen, so it's nice to see the pod up close. The mystery remains... how does it open?

Another crossover of Phoenotopia and the Shrek universe - this "Shrale" is drawn by Firanka. I'm impressed by the use of colors - dominant use of red garb contrasts well with her green skin. She kinda looks like a grumpy Namekian. Hah hah. What is she annoyed at? 

Maybe this little running Gail underfoot (also drawn by Firanka)

Coming Up

We'll continue acting in a PR capacity leading up to the game's release. When the game finally does launch on Switch, I suspect I'll become swamped handling bug reports. When the flash game launched, I remember being swamped for 3 weeks straight! Day in, day out, fixing bugs. I suspect it'll be the same with Phoenotopia: Awakening, but to a heightened degree. 

Regardless, we'll post an update on the state of ourselves at the end of September. Even if it's only a small one. Until then!

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/80557750

Chapter 70:

The next day, Nick felt as calm and save he hadn't felt for a long time. Lying in his bed, he was happy to experience that he didn't have a blackout, and that he knew where he had spent the night. It had been right here, among friends. He also remembered fondly that James had brought him to bed, after keeping a clear head hadn't been necessary anymore and Nick had just let all worries go. For the first time, it felt alright to wake up as the only person in his bed, because he knew he wasn't alone. And even if his friends were a bit out of it, they remembered what was most necessary, that they were a team. Nick left the bed and prettied himself up, putting on one of Hackney's new creations. It was just the right time to wear something completely new. And the designer had been right, yellow was his colour.

Strutting down the stairs, he noticed a delicate smell coming out of the kitchen. “Oh, dear”, he whispered in awe. “Is that...pancakes?” He wondered who in the band suddenly cared enough to cook. Hurrying through the door, he found a pile of freshly made, steaming hot pancakes on the table, and James at the stove, pouring more dough in a pan. “James”, Nick gasped. “You're cooking!” He sounded as if the other man didn't notice what he was doing. “Apposite observation, my friend”, James answered happily, pointing at the already filled plate. “You think this is too much? It's supposed to be enough for four hungry mouths but I'm not sure if you even eat that much for your usually late breakfasts. Coffee is on the way, too.” Nick looked around the kitchen, gaping. “It's alright...It's just...alright...”, Nick muttered and sank into a chair. “Are you okay, Nicky?” James asked worrying. “Yeah...I'm so happy...” Nick wiped his eyes. The other man was quickly by his side to hold him. “You're looking good in that”, he commented his rags. “New collection?” “Yeah, Davy picked them for me...I mean Davy Hackney.” James nodded and Nick leaned his head against him, smiling.

“These are edible, by the way”, James gestured towards the pancakes. “First come, first served.” Because Nick's mouth watered at that, he helped himself to a big portion of the rare meal. Adoring the taste of melted sugar and lemon juice on his tongue, he leaned back. “James, this is delicious!”, he swooned. “Why didn't you tell me you can cook? I would've let you move in without hesitation!” The other man laughed. “To be fair, I haven't done this in a while. Luckily, this is just like riding a bike, you can't unlearn it.” “Can you ride a bike?”, Nick wondered. “I think so.” James furrowed his brows. “You can't?” “I don't know.” They laughed and James finished the second round of pancakes, serving them on another plate. “Don't you eat too?”, Nick asked him after a while. “Or do you want me as your food taster first?” “Doesn't the cook eat last?” “Nonsense, this isn't a noble house anyway.” Nick shoved a plate into his direction. James turned away again. “Oh, I forgot to serve the coffee...” When he was finally done and they both had their hot drinks and filled plates, James tasted his own recipe. “This isn't bad, I think”, he judged himself, “For a first try in years.” “It's the cutest thing you could've done as a manager,” Nick purred. “The others will love you too.” “They'll have to bear with me for now...” “Could be worse”, Nick said with a grin and James smiled back.

Nick was proven right about his band. When they found out their new manager had made them breakfast they keenly pitched into it. “Virgil can take a leaf out of your book”, Brad said, looking at the piece of golden pancake on his fork. “I'm not sure I even want him back”, Chris approved. Nick forced a smile. He knew they didn't have as many good memories with Virgil as he had, and also they forgot many of them already, but it still hurt. On the other hand, he was glad that James won them over bit by bit. They were simple minds now. Nick sighed, looking at his once best friend Matt who enjoyed his breakfast too. He hoped they'd stop overdosing one day, so he could really make up to them. For now, he had to admit this was working, too. Matt returned his gaze promptly. He waved a hand in front of Nick's face. “Hey, Nicky, you're still with us?” Nick blinked. “Yeah...only in thoughts...” “What are you up to now?” Nick must've looked startled, because Matt put a hand on his shoulder. “No, no, no, it's fine. This is all great!” The others nodded. “Don't worry, we're at your side, whatever is your next coup.” He made Nick smile and also blink more. Someone was cutting onions all of a sudden. “Would you mind if I talk to James first?” He gave the new manager a look. “As long as you don't forget about us”, Matt urged him. “Don't worry...”

Later, he helped James with the dishes, so he could talk to the other man in private. “What's our next plan?”, he asked worriedly. “We can create a new record by ourselves, but we need gigs. And promotion.” “Well, the biggest event of the year is already coming up”, James explained and Nick searched for information in his brain. “You mean Christmas?” James smiled. “The Victory Memorial Day, Nicky. And guess who's gonna be the main act?” “M...Me?” The other man gave him a meaningful look. “I made it?” “Of course, my friend! The Make Believes are what everyone is talking about! You're more exciting than Coconut Joy! This is better than what I hoped for when I first met you.” Nick almost let a plate fall when he dashed into the other man's arms and hugged him tightly. James gasped, taken by surprise. “You made me a star again”, Nick whispered. “We made it, Nick”, James corrected him softly. “And now it's time to reap our reward.” Nick didn't see how his eyes lit up for a second.

They consensually parted from each other for the next couple of hours. Nick said he needed to go for a memorial walk because he wasn't done saying goodbye to his beloved ones. James' reaction was understanding. The manager also needed to see through Nick's documents and needed some time alone for that. Nick's first destination was a little shop where he bought flowers from the surprised keeper. Then he sought the fountain and sat down on it's brim. “Hello Morrie”, he whispered, plucking at the blue blossoms of the forget-me-not. “I kept my promise, see, I brought you flowers...” He gulped and tried to put into words what had happened in the last few days. “I'm such an imbecile”, he concluded, “...a complete idiot...and now I lost both of you...The funny thing is, or well, perhaps the thing that would bring you to the verge of a mental breakdown...I don't regret  it...I mean, I regret losing you,  I regret lying to you, but I don't regret loving Arthur...does that make sense?” He paused as if he was waiting for an answer. “I guess not...I just wish I gave you a chance...a real chance to understand me...this is what I should've done...right after I met Arthur again and figured I loved him too.” He shrugged helplessly. “Well, what use is my insight now? I'd be pushing up daisies already if I didn't have such good friends. I keep going for them...But I wish you could be with me on Memorial Day...” Once again, he imagined taking Morrie's hand, holding him close. He closed his eyes for some time, dwelling in memories. Then he knelt down before the fountain and planted the flowers. He watered them with handfuls from the basin and afterwards took his time to look at his handiwork. “There, your very own memorial”, Nick whispered proudly. He remained kneeling there for some more time, leaning against the stone brim, listening to the rippling of the water and simply relaxing, dwelling.

He got up when it was time to visit someone else. “I've got to look after Virgil now...”, he quietly said to the flowers. “I miss him too...I'll be back, my love.” Nick walked away. He began to like these strolls, they helped him to calm down. It was very helpful that he didn't have to hide since he was going out at a decent time. He didn't stop right in front of the statue this time, instead he sought a bench in the park from where he could see it without being seen. From there he viewed the scene, watched the hotel guests stroll by, or the trees in the park swaying in the wind. “I guess I'm not completely useless without you...what a surprise”, he whispered. “I wish you could see me at Memorial Day. Perhaps you wanted to leave me, but in the end, you gave me a second chance and I wonder if I made you proud. I was proud of you, my rock manager extraordinaire...” Nick smiled. Then he had to wipe a tear away, still smiling. He felt more at peace today. If that was the last chapter in his life, it wasn't too bad. Virgil had given him so many good memories. And now he was prepared to do the rest, until the end. “Rest in peace, my Virgil...I'll do my best...” Nick also dwelled in thoughts for a while, enjoying the view.

Leisurely, he went inside the hotel, seeking the lounge. He had started to like this place too. Also this time it didn't disappoint. The room was imbued with a mellowing voice, a song that felt like balm on his wounds, that told him everything would be alright. And he knew the voice, and he sensed an emotional attachment to the singer. Taking a seat at a table from where he could overlook the room, he watched Birdie, smiling. She had accompanied the piano player for a presumably spontaneous performance. The one reporter who had been lucky enough to be there eagerly took photos, but it didn't harm her show. The guests applauded her when she was finished and she bowed shortly. Nick joined in the applause. Sadly, she didn't see him when she hurried out of the lounge. She probably wasn't keen on talking to the photographer. Nick left his seat and followed her. He felt the urge to tell her something. However, it looked like the reporter had the same feeling, so Nick had to get rid of him first. He fastened his pace and approached the man who was about to follow her into the elevator.

“Where do you think you're going? I'm right here!”, he proclaimed and threw himself into a pose. “Nick Lightbearer!”, the reporter blurted out. “This is my lucky day.” Nick chuckled, enjoying the little photo session. “Don't tell me you were looking for someone else.” “How are you getting along since your manager is on holiday?”, the man unfortunately asked, unable to suppress the usual journalist's annoying habit of coming up with awkward questions. “Just peachy, actually. I have a surprise coming up for you,” Nick answered confidently. “Any hints for your longing fans?” “Well, it wouldn't be a surprise then.” Nick winked. “Ah...Why did Virgil need a break, by the way? We thought it all worked out well with the Make Believes Reunion. Are there arguments in the band?” “Not that I remember...You know, Virgil was always working very hard for me and he never took a break. He very well deserves one now and I promised to behave, so don't worry, I'll be okay.” “The fans will love to hear that”, the man said, sounding a tad bit disappointed he couldn't get a fierce reaction out of the controversial rockstar. “Still, the fans are worried. You stopped giving concerts and you don't reply to fan letters. Can you give them a message right here and now?” “I'll be back”, Nick said firmly. “I'm sorry I didn't respond to my dear fans...Tell them I'm thankful for backing me up in all those years, for ignoring all the dirty lies that go around in town and just enjoying my music. That's what I'm living for. I'm glad I can cheer them up and I'll do it again, don't worry, I'm working on a big surprise and you'll love it.” “We never see you around with the other band members. Are you sure it's alright?”

Nick would've liked to slap this prick. He was giving a tearful speech for his fans and all this guy cared about was grubbing out a scandal. “Yeah, I'm absolutely certain. Listen, I'm a bit busy actually, but I think you deserve a treat...My colleague Birdie Callagher resides in this parts, I bet she'd be happy to say a word or two to her fans as well...why don't you go into the first floor, room number 115 and pay her a visit?” The reporter lit up and forgot all his bad intentions, at least those regarding Nick Lightbearer.  “That's a splendid idea. Thank you, Mr. Lightbearer, for the brightening conversation.” With that, he hurried away, avid for the next big story. Nick wasn't sorry for fooling him, although he would probably pay for it later, when the guy would finish his article. He went into the elevator himself, when it came back, and ascended to the second floor. He made sure the coast was clear before he knocked.

“Birdie?”, he whispered. “It's me, Nick.” She opened and peeped through the crack of the door until she recognized him. She gave him a mild smile. “Hi, Nick.” “I wanted to talk to you in the lounge, but I guess you can't go back there right now without being assaulted...that guy is still around. I got him off your back but it's only a matter of time until he finds out I led him a merry dance...” “Oh dear...”, she rolled her eyes. “I guess it serves me right for not keeping my mouth shut. Thank you for saving me.” He waved her off. “No problem. Hey, you want to come over to my suite? We'd be save there, since the guy is after you.” “Is that another invitation?” “Uh...yeah...it is...if you can squeeze me into your schedule...” She smiled again and went out of her room, closing the door behind her. Nick was happy she came along, so he didn't have to wait until he randomly met her again in the lounge. Nearing his suite, he started to wonder about the state of it.  The last time he woke up in there, after his blackout, he didn't pay attention to it at all. Opening the double door, he saw that the staff had made an effort cleaning the place. After all, it had been a while since his band had used the suite for a spontaneous party. And he had slept in this bed with Morrie. “Is something wrong?”, Birdie ripped him out of his thoughts. “Er...no...it's been a while since I've been here, that's all...It's so clean, I can't believe I ever used this...”, Nick explained, looking around. Birdie let her gaze wander around the large suite and silenced. “Ah, nevermind, didn't mean to be a killjoy...”, Nick backed away. “Why don't you take a seat?” He offered the sitting area to her, the one beyond the big sparkling disco ball. “I could make you a non-alcoholic drink too if you like.” Birdie sat down and nodded. “Yes, please.” Later, they had made themselves comfortable.

“What did you want to tell me in the lounge?”, Birdie took up the thread. “You mean, except that you have an outstanding voice?”, Nick said charmingly. She giggled. “You can tell me that, too.” “Honestly, you took me by surprise...touched my very soul...”, he admitted, “There aren't enough songs like these in the world.” She leaned back, flattered but playing it cool. “Oh, I was just...getting stuff out of my mind...I'm deep in thoughts lately, very un-wellie.” Nick nodded. “I see...it made me feel better though, so it had a sense of happiness...” “I'm glad...I'll never forget the face the pianist made when I asked him to play a song for me”, she said smiling at something in her mind. “I can imagine...doesn't happen every day.” “Hell no, I have to keep that a surprise. Stupid paparazzi would swarm the place and Davis would kick me out.” “That wet blanket.” Nick made a face. “Does he ever take Joy?” She giggled. “Only the bad badges.” “Good call.” “He's okay though...” Nick gave her a surprised look. “Yeah. He seems like he has a humour bypass, at first sight, but he's only caring for his hotel.” “His business.” “It's his baby,” she pointed out. “He won't hurt you unless you hurt it.” Nick pondered it. “It's just a building.” “But a pretty one.” Birdie looked around in the suite. Nick was reminded of Arthur for a second. “That it is”, he answered, staring into his drink.

“Nick?”, she reminded him of where he was, darting a meaningful glance at him. He looked up. “You didn't invite me just to compliment me, or did you?”, she asked with a soft voice. “Don't you like compliments?” “I do, but I also like knowing what I'm getting involved in. What are you up to, Nick Lightbearer?” He began to look a little embarrassed. “It may sound crazy...”, he said and shrugged. “I only know you for a couple of days, but I think it could work...” He darted a glance at her. Birdie didn't move. “Would you like to sing along with me at the 14th Annual Memorial Day?” Birdie opened her mouth but no sound came out. “Yeah, I know, it's a little sudden, but I couldn't help thinking about it.” Nick turned to his drink again. She looked puzzled at first and later lit up more and more. “You mean...you and me...on stage...at the biggest event of the year?” “Yeah...I think we've both been quite big this year, we deserve it.” “And your band? Would they agree to this?” “Well...right now, they're not really able to say 'no' to anything...not that I want to exploit them, but...I'm sure they'll have fun.” Birdie lifted an eyebrow. “They're just very happy at the moment”, was all Nick explained. “You don't have to answer now...just consider it. Perhaps it'll be easier for you to find a really good manager after you've been the main act at the party.” “Sure...”, she said, still overwhelmed. “We can rehearse at my place. We don't need to improvise”, he said grinning. Birdie put a hand on her chest. “This day is getting better and better...”, she gasped. Then she looked at him again. “Do you really mean it?” “You can take it to the bank.” She smiled. He could see that something else came to her mind. “Do you have a new manager?” Nick leaned back, trying not to look too proud. “Yes. He's a good friend and he's taking care of things for now. I guess I'll keep him anyway.” “Of course.” He didn't know if she was jealous or amused. Perhaps both.

[willykappymarnsmatts]

I Was Made For Loving You (M. Marner)

*Y/N’s POV*

My brother, Tyson, had been traded to the Leafs over the summer. We were always really close, and he begged me to transfer to a school in Toronto so we could still hang out. At first I refused, because I had grown super close to the boys in Denver, but after constant begging I eventually gave in. I hung around at home for the summer, but a week before the season started, Tyson flew me out for good.

When I land in Toronto, I have butterflies in my stomach. I’m excited for a new start, a new University, but I don’t know anyone in the city but Tyson. It’s… a lot.

“Y/N!” I hear someone call from behind me. I whip around, seconds before Tyson picks me up and spins me around. “Hi!” He yells.

“Hey, Tys,” I laugh. It’s literally been two months, but he’s acting like it’s been two years.

“So, um, I know it’s kind of late notice, but we have a banquet tonight. Did you bring a dress?”

“No, mom’s bringing all my nice clothes when she comes for Thanksgiving,” I frown. “You could’ve told me before I left!”

“Yeah, sorry about that, but we have to go shopping. Like, now.” I roll my eyes, following him to his car.

“I’m tired, Tys,” I whine. He shakes his head and takes my bags from me as we walk.

“Too bad. I’ve already told the boys about you, and they’re all excited to meet you, so you have to come with me.” His face turns a light shade of red as his voice begins to raise.

I laugh. “Okay, okay, no need to get so worked up.”

He smiles at me wide. “I missed you,” he tells me, opening the car door for me.

“Oh, a true gentleman,” I chirp.

“Shut up,” he jokes, shutting the door once I’m in.

•••

After Tyson dragged me around the mall for two hours looking for a dress, he was finally happy with one I tried on. I kept telling them every single one I tried was great, but he didn’t agree. It had to be ‘perfect,’ he insisted. I pushed for a simple, form-fitting knee-length black dress, but Tys wasn’t having it.

I come out of the dressing room in a dress that ends just below mid-thigh. It’s a deep blue, with a v-shape neck line which cuts down to the middle of my chest. It clings to my curves, complimenting my shape. Tyson looks up from his phone when I come out of the dressing room, and his jaw drops. I smile slightly, then spin in front of him. I look in the mirror at myself. I smile at my reflection, smoothing down the dress. “You don’t think it’s a little short?” I ask, tugging down the bottom of the dress.

“No, I, uh, it’s… I’m gonna have to fight my boys off of you tonight.” He scratches at the back of his neck. I smile wide at him.

“You don’t think I can handle myself, big brother?”

“No, I do, but I don’t think my friends can handle themselves.” He jokes. “We’re gonna have fun tonight.”

•••

“Y/N!” Tyson yells from the kitchen of his apartment. He’s been waiting for me for 20 minutes and is the most impatient person on the planet.

“Tyson, I’m almost ready, shut up!” I yell back, bending my head to put in a pair of gold hoop earrings. I curled my hair so it bounces when I walk, and I put on bright red lipstick. I don’t have to curl my eyelashes, but I did eyeliner and mascara. I don’t know what inside me told me I needed to go all out, but I listened nonetheless.

I walk out, click-clacking on the wood floor with black heels. I gather my hair behind my shoulders as I grab my shoulder bag from the couch.

“Wow, you look great, Y/N!” Tyson grins. I smile back at him.

“I feel pretty,” I say like a little girl. He laughs and wraps me in a hug.

“I talked to some of the guys and told them you’re coming. They’re all really excited to meet you,” he mentions, locking the door as we leave.

I nod, pursing my lips to hide a smile. I haven’t been in a relationship since I was a young teenager, and I’m almost twenty now. I’m looking forward to getting out there without Tyson babying me. When he got drafted, the boys on the team were much older than me. There was no chance in the world that they would’ve been of any interest to me, but they became like a bunch of older brothers. Now, though, it’s different.

We walk in silence to the car, the sound of my shoes echoing off the walls.

“How’s Toronto been?” I ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Good,” he nods. “I like it a lot, actually.”

I smile. “The guys all miss you a lot.”

He watches his shoes as he walks. “I miss them too, I really do. But to be honest, these guys on the Leafs are the tightest group I’ve ever seen. In Denver, we were tight, but the entirety of us weren’t best friends. Here, the team is a family. They all love each other, and they welcomed me into the group with open arms. You’ll see tonight, what I’m talking about.”

We get to the car and he opens the door for me and holds it while I slide in. “Seriously, how are you still single?” I chirp.

He mocks me while making a face and closes the door as I get in, making me throw my head back and laugh. He smiles as he gets in on the driver side.

“I really did miss you, you know?”

“I missed you too, big brother.”

•••

Of course, we’re fashionably late to the banquet because Tyson is the slowest driver on planet earth. When I told him this, he obviously blamed me.

“It’s not my fault you took five hours to get ready.” He tells me as we jog into the hall. I shake my head and laugh slightly. When Tyson pushes open the doors into the hall, loud music hits us like a truck. I’m taken aback at the beautiful set-up. The walls have blue drapery almost the same colour as my dress. There are round tables with white table clothes all around the room, with a DJ booth and a dance floor in the middle. People are strewn about, some on the dance floor and some hanging out at their seats.

“I’m going to go find Kyle, let him know we’re alive,” Tyson tells me, patting my shoulder as he walks away. I’m left alone at the entrance and I make my way into the party.

•••

*Mitch’s POV*

When I saw her walk in, my breath caught in my throat. She was probably the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, but as I got up the courage to go and talk to her, Tyson came by and blocked my view. I try to peek over his shoulder and watch her, but he’s too wide.

“Hey, Mitchy!” Tyson says, hugging me and patting my back. “How ya doing?”

“Good, I’m… good,” I say distractedly, still trying to find the girl I saw just a moment ago. I give up for the moment and focus my attention back on Tyson. “How are you, bud?”

“Good. My sister flew in today, she’s around here somewhere. Let me know if you have a chance to meet her. She’s-“

“Uh, Tys,” I interrupt. I see a head of curly brown hair walking away from us and immediately try to come up with an excuse to get away. “I think I see a guy I knew from juniors. Do you mind if I go for a sec?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Tyson nods, obviously confused as to why I’m not acting myself. I can explain later.

“Thanks, man.” I say, shrugging past him and towards the girl in the blue dress.

I’m nearing the girl, turning and shouldering past some people I know and some people I don’t. I smile and nod as I pass, and take a deep breath as I near the girl.

“Mitchhh,” Auston appears in front of me when I’m two steps away from the mystery girl. “I’m… drunk.” He states, almost proudly.

“Matts, we got here an hour ago. How the fuck are you already drunk?” I ask, the girl momentarily forgotten.

“Well, there was this girl, right, and I wanted to buy her a drink, but she left, so I just drank it. Then I had two more drinks. And then another one.” He slurs all his words together and if I hadn’t seen him in this state eleven million times before, I would have no idea what he’s saying to me. But I have, and I understand him clearly.

“Okay, Aus. Uh, go sit in your seat, you are in no shape to dance. And I am cutting you off. Water only.”

“But Mitchhhhh,” he drawls.

“No. I’m the one that has to deal with a big hungover baby tomorrow morning. No more drinks.”

“Fffffine.” He slurs, wobbling to his table. I take a breath and scan the room once more. I see the girl and start to make my way over to her, but I get interrupted again.

“Mitchy, have ya-“

His head of blonde hair pops up in front of me out of nowhere, and I step back slightly in shock. “Willy, I’m kinda busy right now, okay? Sorry, bud.” I shove past Will and he just nods as I pass him. She’s two steps away from me now.

One step away.

I tap on her shoulder.

•••

*Y/N’s POV*

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I turn around, expecting to meet Tyson. Instead, it’s a boy I do not recognize. He’s taller, almost a head taller than I am. He has short brown hair that is swept lazily to one side. He has bright blue eyes that shine as he grins wide at me. He’s wearing a magenta jacket and a clean off-white dress shirt. He’s beautiful, to put it frankly.

“Hi,” he says. I can barely hear him over the music, but if I watch his mouth, I can make out the words. “My name is Mitch, I play for the Leafs. I haven’t seen you before, what’s your name?”

I smile at him. “I’m Y/N. Ya know Tyson?”

“Fuck me,” he sighs. “Your boyfriend?”

I throw my head back and laugh. My hair falls behind my shoulders and when I look at Mitch, he’s smiling again. “No, definitely not my boyfriend. He’s my brother.”

“Ohhh. Well, shit.”

I laugh again. “Why shit?”

He looks up at me, almost like he forgot I was there. “Well, Y/F/N Barrie, I think you’re really beautiful, and I wanted to ask you to dance, but if Tyson sees me dancing with you he’ll probably murder me.”

I smile and feel my cheeks redden. “Tyson has no say over who I get to dance with,” I say firmly. “If you wanna dance, just ask.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, staring at me in amazement. I begin to turn around, but he catches my wrist and spins me back to him. “Will you dance with me, Y/N?”

I nod, trying to hide my grin. I place my bag on my seat and take his outstretched hand in mine. “I’d love to.”

He drags me out to the middle of the dance floor, just as Thinking Out Loud starts playing. I wasn’t expecting a slow song, and I falter mid-step. “Oh, um, if you don’t want to-“

“I do. I do want to.” He tugs my arm once more to keep me moving. We find an empty space among the swaying couples. I stare at him, and he stares back. Neither of us moves for a moment, then he places his hands on either side of my waist, inching them to the small of my back. I bring my hands up to the back of his neck and interlock them behind his head. I smile at him, and he grins back.

We become more comfortable in each others’ space. As we continue to dance, and the songs change, we stay in each other’s arms, asking questions, slowly getting to know each other. He pulls me closer to him, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “My heart is fucking racing,” he mutters, and my body shakes with silent laughter. I pull back to look at him, and the look on his face tells me I wasn’t supposed to hear that.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, our faces so close my nose is brushing his, “I’m falling pretty fast, too.”

We continue to sway, our bodies pressed against each other. I press my forehead against Mitch’s and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Y/N, nobody’s made me lose my mind like this, ever.” I smile and pull my head away from his so we can continue to sway.

As the next song ends, Mitch and I are left in a haze where only we exist. “I’m thirsty,” I tell him.

“I need a drink, too.” He takes my hand and leads me to the bar…

Where Tyson is standing, watching us.

“Fuck,” Mitch abruptly stops.

I turn my body to face him, my back to Tyson. I can feel his eyes on me. “Do you have ulterior motives, Marner?” I ask him, only half-kidding. He shakes his head furiously.

“It’s kind of terrifying, really terrifying, actually, but I think I might be in love with you.”

I smile and squeeze his hand, my face reddening. “Then why are you so scared of my brother?” I don't wait for a response, but pull Mitch behind me up to the bar.

“I see you met Mitch,” Tyson states, his voice nearly growling. It’s a side of him I almost never see, and it’s so different from his higher, happy voice.

“Yes I did, actually, and I think I’m possibly falling for him. Not that it’s actually any of your business, but we’ve talked a lot and I like him, so…” my voice trails off.

Tyson studies the two of us, mostly staring at our intertwined fingers. “You guys just met.” He frowns.

“We’re not getting married, Tys. Chill out, and back off a little, okay?”

He tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear and forces a tight grin. “Fine.”

He faces Mitch. “If you hurt her, or cross any lines, you’re dead. And I don’t care if you’re my teammate.”

Mitch nods, his hand literally shaking in mine. I smile wide. As Tyson leaves, we sit on stools at the bar, waiting for the bartender. I kiss him lightly on the cheek. I start to say something else, but I lose my train of thought when he gently takes my chin and turns me towards him.

He leans into me and kisses me, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt. The world disappears, and I melt into the kiss, into Mitch. He pulls away, and my eyelids refuse to open all the way. “Okay?” He whisper. I nod, dizzy and flustered and…

In love.

[19mrs-barnes17]

A Real Puzzle

Summary: You’re a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent on a walk home, your night is rudely interrupted

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader

Warnings: violence? none?

Word count: 1,592

A/N: Hello! I’m back in the groove of writing, so please send in requests!

~

The wind rippled through your hair and nipped at any exposed skin, sending a chill down your spine as you walked the streets. An edge to the air had you pulling your shoulder bag close to your frame and your eyes darting about the empty area. Dimly lit lights marked the pathway, stars hardly visible within the depths of the sky. The only comfort provided was a young woman jogging with her german shepherd ahead, a witness at the very least. But soon enough that comfort faded into the shadows. A clang from behind had you instinctively turning your head, your feet quickening their pace as you took in the dark empty. A shudder tickled your spine but you pressed onward. A heavy thud sounded to your left and you began to quicken your pace once again, too tired to deal with any bullshit tonight.

It was so quick you barely caught yourself in the fall, hands grappling for a hold but coming up with nothing but gravel. Flipping yourself on your back you stretched toward your wrapped ankles, fingers struggling to remove the blade from within your boot. Once it was cut you were quick to your feet, searching for your attacker in the velvet of the night. A dark, hooded figure emerged from the trees and was reeling back their chain to whip once again. You bolted between the trees, zig zagging as you ran across the muddy pathway. The ground was trying to swallow your shoes, in fact it almost did several times. 

“You’ve. Gotta. Be. Fucking. Kidding. Me.” It was simply your sort of luck to be attacked by some psycho with a chain whip, in the park, alone, at nine at night. Your endurance was holding but you had been out of work for months, your shoulder barely finished in its healing, and soon enough you knew it would run out. Shelter. You were in desperate need of a sanctuary and fast. An idea pinged inside your mind and you began to test your luck in the open, sprinting down alleyways and cutting corners. Sparks fly when the chain strikes the pavement in front of you, your feet halting momentarily but enough for the culprit to strike you across your right calf. A cry slipped from your lips as you turned to face your opponent, blade in hand.

They maintained a distance, which meant they were smart in keeping themselves in their element but could suggest they were weak in hand to hand. Maybe you were insane but you thought the risk was your only option, so you sprinted at them. Their shape suggested male, but underneath the cloak it was a tad difficult to confirm. Either way they were no novice in a fight, even in hand to hand they were quite formidable. However, you were more so. He was strong and relentless but you were quick and patient. You played your hand, one trick at a time, just as you were trained to. He was a talent, but he was no Natasha Romanoff. She made him seem less terrifying, for he was too reliant on his brutish strength whereas she believed in tactics. 

“Need a hand?” You were nearly thrown by the new voice, gruff but gentle, emanating from around the corner. After dealing a stun-like blow to the strangers head, your eyes glanced at the newcomer with intrigue. Shaking your head, you smirked softly at the man who had ‘come to your rescue’. He was exactly who you were hoping to find, but your pride was a bit wounded by his inquiry. 

“Not yet, just stand there and look pretty. Unless you’d like to speed this up by being his punching bag.” You sent a wink, ducking as the aggressor swung a left hook. A chuckle from your left and suddenly it was two on one, you allowed your partner to take the blunt of the blows while you strategize strikes. Two separate and simultaneous kicks to the chest and the assailant disappears into the alley. You half expect him to reappear with an attempted sneak attack, and yet the continued silence negates that theory. You venture cautiously, scanning the vacant alleyway before trailing up the walls and peering up at the rooftops. 

“You hear him?” Your eyes didn’t flicker down to the Devil of Hell’s kitchen, remaining above instead. He mutters a ‘no’ as he approaches, stalling for a moment before smirking slyly.

“What gave me away?” If you were being honest, it was the way he fought and how smooth his motions were. But, you weren’t being honest.

“Your voice for starters. And I’d recognize that sly smirk anywhere, Red.” He seemed off put by the sudden nickname but only for a moment before leading you up the fire escape to his apartment. “You were just the blind crusader I was hoping to ‘bump’ into.”

“Aw shucks.” He removed his mask, walking to his kitchen and holding up a bottle of whiskey. You shook your head and he nodded in recollection. “Right, how’s the shoulder.”

“Super Doc!” He shook his head slightly, a soft smile stretching across his lips as he lifted your legs and sat underneath them. “Almost cleared, going through phys.”

There was a blanket of silence over the room, both of you likely thinking through the night’s event with great scrutiny. Who? Motive? Solo or Hired? Dozens of questions and theories compiled within your mind like an ever growing leaf pile in the fall. Something was eating at you, and you couldn’t fight it off. Swinging your feet off Matt’s lap you made your way to the windows, searching the skyline and eyeing the streets.

“He’s not here, I don’t hear him.” You turn to look at Matt, who now stood beside you, your eyes studying his features in the neon lighting. “How did you know I could hear like that?”

“I’ve seen the way you tilt your head when listening to people, and how you react to their words. At first I thought, ‘huh, he must hear their tone and judge from that’, but then I got to thinking about what would be a bigger tell.” You smirked softly and shrugged, knowing he could hear it well enough to decipher. “A heartbeat. Not a totally crazy theory considering the inhumans I’ve come across. Plus, it would account for your ability to be a human lie detector.” 

“I should’ve known you of all people would be able to put the puzzle together.” The smile he had plastered on his face had your chest tightening. 

“I’m fucking amazing at puzzles.” You rested your cheek on Matt’s shoulder and felt the vibrations of his laugh. “You laugh, but I’m serious. I’ve got mad puzzle skills.”

“That so?” You smirk, walking over to his kitchen and grabbing water from his fridge.

“Yes it is, mister I wear devil's horns in public and it's not a kink.” You pause and your smirk grows bigger. “Or is it?”

He throws a pillow at you but you catch it with ease and launch it back at his head. This was something you had missed over the past few months, you had been so preoccupied with your injury and regaining your footing that you had sort of ghosted your best friend. You sat back on the couch and wrapped your arms around Matt when he joined you.

“I’ve missed your kinky ass.” Matt smacked your head with a pillow but chuckled softly.

“I’ve missed you too, you gremlin.” You gasped, taking the pillow from his hand and holding it above his head. “You wouldn’t hit a mostly blind man, would you?”

“Oh absolutely, if that blind man is your dumbass.” 

***

Your neck cracked as you tilted your head from side to side, scanning the skyline once again out of habit. Mostly. You still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. But perhaps that was just Matt sneaking up on you. 

“Alright ninja, calm it with the sneaking.” You smacked his chest, smiling up at his bedhead. “I do not need to have a heart attack today.”

“You’re the former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Shouldn’t you be prepared for something like that?” He sighed softly as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Still not here you creature of habit.”

“Gee, you sweet talker. Take me now.” There was a slight blush on his cheeks and you became increasingly more curious.

“We need to talk about what happened last night. I’m assuming you don’t know our friend in black.” His change in topic would not detour your subconscious as it rattled off suggestions of how to proceed with your newfound knowledge. 

“I’m afraid we skipped the small talk and I will definitely be swiping left.” Your stomach growled like an animal and the conversation halted while Matt offered to take you to breakfast. “Gasp. So soon?”

“I could just shove you out on the fire escape.” He smirked as you smacked him once again, but dropping it the moment you inched close.

“You love me too much Murdock.” His cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat before walking to his bedroom to change. “Oh, and Matt?”

“Yeah?” He called from his room, a shirt slipping over his scar littered torso. 

“You’re not the only one who can tell if a person’s heart rate spikes. I just winked in case you were wondering.” You giggled at the crimson overtaking the pale complexion of his cheeks. “It seems we have two conversations to have, Matty.”

~

Tags: @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​

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[blameitonmyjuuse]

For @austonandersen who wanted quarantined Freddie and Auston.

--

Though Freddie would never admit it, the NHL’s pausing of the season was not a wholly unwelcome idea. It was horrible, yeah, and incredibly frustrating because the Leafs were still solidly in the playoffs and slowly coming back out of their downward spiral, but.

But. 

It’s not that Freddie was exhausted, per se, but being the starting goaltender for a team who seemed to constantly hover on the edge between absolute greatness and the absolute laughing stock of the NHL could sometimes take its toll. Game after game, night after night-- sometimes Freddie did wish for a break in between wishing for better defense and a Cup.

For just a single night to pause, relax on the couch, and not think of an impending match where it would either be a win and he’d have to push himself harder and harder to get to the next one, or a loss and it would be him against the entire Leafs fan base.

He did, however, wish that a global pandemic wasn’t the cause of this break.

Nevertheless, the lack of people on the afternoon streets while Freddie rounded the final corner to his apartment, sweat creating a tacky sort of stick on his back as his final few moments jogging faded into deep breathing, was not the worst thing in the world. 

The Doorman tipped a professional greeting as Freddie made his way to the elevator, taking mouthfuls of water in and switching his AirPods into their protective case. 

The ride was short; short enough that Freddie was still half reading a Danish news article about new cases when he stepped out, and traced his way down to his apartment, and opened the door. 

He took a step beyond the doorway, half a second to read the sentence, træffe beskyttelsesforanstaltninger for at bremse spredningen---

And then stumbled. 

Damnit.

Freddie sighed and glanced down at the pair of black and white Nikes about three sizes too small and 90% too flashy to be his own in the middle of the doorway. They were no doubt toed off without a thought, even though their owners most certainly knew that Freddie would be coming in from his afternoon jog and wouldn’t be able to miss them.

He stared balefully at the shoes and stepped over them, passing the shoe rack a couple steps further inside the hallway, where two other similar pairs had been forgotten over time.

Freddie toed off his own shoes, took another sip of water and peeked around the hallway. No sign, so that meant the owner of these ridiculous shoes had ventured deeper down the hall and into the master bedroom. 

Sure enough, as Freddie passed through the entrance to his bedroom, shucking off a sweat-soaked tank top to the dirty clothes hamper, he noticed steam billowing from the master bath’s doorway.

“Matty?” Freddie called, as though the visitor would be anyone else. 

There was a pause and the shower water turned off. A few seconds passed and Freddie used the brief moment of silence to open his dresser to pull out a pair of black boxers. 

Then the bathroom door opened and a dark head peeked out, “Yeah?”

Freddie didn’t answer, just took in the sight as Auston emerged fully, hair slick and white towel tied haphazardly across his waist. Auston dragged a smaller towel through his hair, “What’s up?”

Freddie tossed him the black boxers, “How many times have I asked that you put your shoes on the rack?”

Auston grinned and ran the towel through his hair again, flexing his biceps. Freddie, of course, was drawn to the movement, to the way the muscle clenched and relaxed, before flicking cool his eyes back to Auston’s flushed face. Auston shrugged, “See, I meant to do that, but the promise of your shower was too much.”

Freddie didn’t buy it. When not focused on hockey, Auston’s main goal seemed to be driving Freddie insane. Insane, in several varying ways that both pissed Freddie off and made something burning hot burrow in his chest.

“You mean-- the identical shower to yours downstairs, in your own apartment?”

Auston shrugged again and scratched at the cut of his hip, where tiny rivulets of water were pooling and absorbing into the towel. “My apartment is missing things.”

“Hm,” Freddie murmured before shifting by Auston, taking care to pass close enough that he could feel the heat of the shower on Auston’s skin and smell his own shampoo and body wash on him, but not quite close enough to touch him. He shut the bathroom door behind him and pulled his jogging pants and underwear off. 

Showering was a quick, perfunctory affair. Freddie didn't let his thoughts linger or stray-- especially not to the boy no doubt making himself comfortable on the couch. If he did, he'd be in there for hours and Auston, who might just be the most impatient boy in the world, would certainly have something to say about it.

Sure enough, when Freddie was dressed in soft grey sweatpants, socks, and nothing else, Auston was lounging across the couch, face buried in his phone and thumbs moving rapidly across the screen.

The TV was off, like it had been since the PGA announced that golf had been suspended for the time being. Freddie frowned at the thought, but leaned over to swipe the remote from the coffee table. When he glanced back at Auston, Auston’s eyes were on Freddie. He wordlessly curled his legs up to his chest, and when Freddie sat down, taking up the space where Matty’s feet had been, Auston spread out again and rested his calves on Freddie’s lap.

Freddie traced a line down Auston’s shin in thanks and turned the TV to the NHL channel. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes; Auston texting and then pausing and texting again, and Freddie mindlessly drawing patterns on the warm skin of Auston’s legs while watching highlights between a Stars and Predators game from last month. 

Auston shifted and poked Freddie’s abs softly with his toe. “Mitchy wants to know where I am.”

“Does he want to come over?”

“He can’t. We’re self-quarantining, remember? Players aren’t supposed to be around each other.”

“Oh yes,” Freddie said with a pointed glance to the distinct lack of six feet between them, “Self- quarantining.”

But Auston’s attention was back on his phone. Freddie allowed it for a few more minutes, but as Auston’s eyebrow furrows like they do when he begins to start stressing about something hockey related, he sat up and snagged the IPhone from Auston’s hand.

“Dude,” Auston groaned half-heartedly, briefly trying to grab it back before giving up and laying back. He looked up at Freddie from under his eyelashes and the thing is--

The thing is, Freddie loves it when he does that. For a kid who had an entire dynasty thrust upon him, for a kid who’s had to grow up in one of the harshest spotlights in their sport, when he’s looking up at him like that, Freddie is reminded that Matts is still just a good-hearted kid. It reminds him that the quarantine isn’t all bad because it has given him quiet times where he and Matty can just be. 

He must be doing that intense creeper stare that Auston bitches about, because Auston was nudging him again, “What?”

Freddie wanted to tell him all of that, but he doesn’t think he has the words in either English or Danish to try and get what he meant across. So he shrugged, “You’ll see him soon. All of them.”

“I’m just bored. I want to play hockey.” Auston threw his head back on the pillow his head was cushioned on, “That’s all I want to do right now.”

The inflection Auston uses, the slight undercurrent of whine, well, Freddie has never pretended that it didn’t do things to him. 

It always had; even when Auston was a fresh faced nineteen year old who was just learning how much he could push before Freddie would react. 

And Auston knew it, whether he used it meaningfully or not. 

Freddie tilted his head and added some tone in his voice, “That’s all you want to do?”

Auston picked his head up slowly, “Well I mean-- not all I want to do. I- I mean, I can think of other things I’d be fine doing.”

Freddie let the fingers grazing against Auston’s shin drift higher, smiling slightly when Auston automatically opened his legs, “No, if you want to play hockey, we could play Xbox hockey.”

“Hm,” Auston hummed, lips quirked up at the ends as he pretended to be deep in thought. When he grew tired of waiting, he sat up, and Freddie had no problem using his larger frame to haul Auston up completely, until he could resettle in Freddie’s lap, either leg sprawled adjacent to Freddie’s thighs, “I actually think I just got a better offer.” 

He did love the sound of that. Nevertheless, Freddie let his hands splay over the stretched cotton of Auston’s boxers. When Auston smiled wider and let his eyes flicker closed, eyes draped loosely around Freddie’s neck, Freddie lifted his right palm and brought it down hard.

Auston’s eyes opened wide at the pop.

Freddie lifted Auston off and climbed to his feet. He made his way around the couch and started towards his bedroom without a look back, “If you had picked up your shoes, you wouldn’t have to wait.”

Freddie privately smiled when he heard Auston curse and stumble over himself to put his shoes on the rack. 

[pancakebutton]

Teacher X Reader Part III

Summary: In the midst of the hockey season, you learn how to ice skate and play hockey because of Matt and Mr. (T/C). You get a new English teacher who ends up absolutely hating you. And because of certain circumstances, Matt ends up being a big help to Mr. (T/C).

Warnings: Foul Language & Sexual Content

Word Count: 3755

Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Sexual, Series.

Pairing: Insert Teacher X Reader

A/N: (Y/NN) is your nickname

Masterlist

.

Everyone was still hyped up from the assembly including Mr. (T/C) who still has pieces of string confetti in his hair. After we finally settled, we hadn’t even gotten through half of the lecture done before Allen’s phone went off. He checked it of course, but his eyes went wide and without thinking of where he even was, he showed us his phone.

“Dude look at this! Thomas just got in a fight with Julien Castillo!”

“Thomas who?”

“Thomas (T/L/N)!”

I paused, “wait Mr. (T/C) has a son?”

“No his nephew.”

“Haha look at this! Damn Thomas really got em eh?”

I didn’t notice that Mr. (T/C) was listening the entire time, and he didn’t look pleased.

“Mr. Jones, mind if I take a look?”

Allen looked like he’d seen a ghost, “o-of course sir”.

Mr. (T/C) took Al’s phone and watched the video over, when it ended he sighed.

“That damn kid.”

I nervously tried helping the situation, “I didn’t know you had a sibling (T/C)”. His face of worry and anger dissolved and he seemed to have softened a little.

“Oh yeah, my older brother sure did teach a little fight in his two sons. They go here actually, thanks Allen, I’ll be sure to give him a stern talking to.”

“I didn’t mean to snitch on em sir, promise!”

“I know I know, I won’t tell him I found out through you. Now back to how bills are made.”

The bell rang and I stood to grab my stuff, before we all could leave however, Mr. (T/C) called out,

“Miss Maine, if you wouldn’t mind speaking with me for a few minutes?”

My friends “ooo’d” as they all smiled, Mo winked, and walked out of the classroom.

“Catch ya later (Your Nickname)” Brock teased, and I walked over to his desk.

“Yes sir?”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled.

“It seems I won our bet last night, oh and thanks for volunteering me for that contest so it seems you owe me double the payment in return.”

“What?! Haha that’s not fair Mr. (T/C) I didn't promise a prize for that silly contest.”

“Well a little bird told me you don’t know how to play hockey, my youngest nephew Zach is a goalie for the team and he plays tonight. Wanna stay after and play against me?”

I was taken aback, “I’d love to, but I think that match would be unfair, could I bring my friends with me, just you versus us? I’d love to see that skill of yours. I've heard you played college”. He then chuckled and nodded, “you’ve got yourself a deal then”.

.

The game was tied 3-3 with two minutes left in the third period. Zach had made countless saves and was doing fantastic, both teams seemed evenly matched. I was sitting next to Mo and Kaitlyn, but everyone else was there too, including Allen’s twin sister Ashley. Matt was on the ice, as it was a varsity game, and just slammed number thirty-eight into the boards and the crowd went ballistic. I had also found out that Matt had a younger brother who was a junior this year and was a defenseman like him.

“You got this boys!” I cheered. Since it was just a regular high school hockey game and not a championship, it would have ended in a tie. But with twenty seconds left, Matt’s wrist shot ended up in the back of the net. The crowd erupted in cheers stood for the last seconds of the game, us obviously winning. We waited for the boys to come back out of the locker room to congratulate them as they left. And slowly but surely, everyone left, leaving the empty rink all to ourselves.

“And did you see number nine’s slash on Smith? That should have been called, damn the refs are blind!”

As me and Mo were standing by the boards, waiting for everyone else to get skates, I heard a few new and familiar voices. I turned to see Mr. (T/C) walking towards us, followed by his two nephews.

“Haha I know Tommy it was right in front of me”.

“Sometimes I wish I did hockey just to be a total goon!”

“Okay settle down Thomas, boys these are my two students Morgan and (Y/n).”

Now that I’ve actually gotten to meet them, I noticed how Thomas, the older one, had the same hair color as (T/n) but he had deep blue eyes and was a bit slimmer. And Zach was adorable! He looked just like (T/n) but with much lighter hair.

“Nice to meet you,” Zach greeted. Thomas kinda just looked at me and smirked. He whispered something only (T/n) could hear and nudged him and Mr. (T/C)’s face immediately went red as he quickly shushed him.

“Aye (T/C)! We got some more skates for us, I see you brought your boys as backup?”

“Well, I know I could beat all of you, but it wouldn’t be too fair on my part and why not bring more company”. He then turned to me, “ready to start skating Miss Maine?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

I then made my way towards the ice, Matt was already on it, waiting to catch me in case I decide to fall.

“You got this (Y/n)!” He cheered and I took one step and immediately slipped, but fell into Matt’s arms. I laughed awkwardly, “he heh, thanks Williams”.

“Anytime (L/N).”

Mr. (T/C) coughed behind us, “next time keep your knees slightly bent and your legs shoulders width apart”. I laugh, “thanks (T/C) I’ll be sure to keep that in mind”. I let go of Matt and began trying to skate by myself, but I wasn’t expecting Mr. (T/C) to take my arm and help me as I was leaning a little to the left.

“Th-thanks. So (T/C) what made you like the leafs?”

He smiled as our arms linked and everyone warmed up by skating around or taking shots on Zach.

“I’ve never really had a favorite team, but I’ve always thought the leafs were a good team.”

“And I’m guessing you only like Matthews because he’s an idolized American on a Canadian team that doesn’t like Americans?”

“Bingo.”

I then felt my knees buckle as I hit a rough patch in the ice. But because I was still holding onto (T/C), I ended up bringing him down with me.

“Sorry Mr. (T/C)”. I then realized the position we were in. I was underneath him as his hands ended up on both sides of my head. Thomas, seeing the entire situation, then called out, “I know you’re a hands on teacher uncle (T/n), but you don’t need to be THIS handsy!”

Mr. (T/C)’s cheeks began to dust pink as he swiftly got us both back on our feet.

“It’s fine (Y/n) I should have caught you. Well on the bright side you’re getting the hang of it.”

“Yeah barely, I’m as fast as an old man!”

“Haha, well it will make playing against you even more fun.”

“At least I have teammates to pull through for me.”

We laughed and agreed to start the game. Of course I was slower than everyone else, but it was a lot of fun. I cross-checked (T/C) and slashed his stick, which I knew I wasn’t supposed to do but I was just having fun and (T/C) enjoyed my weak jabs.

“Gettin’ a little feisty huh Miss Maine?”

“Haha yep, I’d drop my gloves if I had some...and if I weren’t fighting you.”

“Why not me?”

“You’re like a brick wall! It’s literally impossible for such an inexperienced player like me to get the puck from the expert you!”

This made him laugh and my heart fluttered. I loved his laugh. I loved the way he teased me. God I need to get a grip. Theo then skated up to me and told me we were having a team huddle. Kaitlyn was our goalie, Theo and Matt were on my line and we had Beau, Allen, and Ashley on the bench. (T/C) took Brock and Matt’s brother Nick.

“We need to do the Flying V” Theo half whispered to the huddle. Matt then chuckled, “yeah like they won’t see that one coming”. I laughed too but agreed it would be a fun gesture and we decided to do it. Us three skate behind the net and slap our sticks down on the ice while chanting like they did in the movie. I looked over at (T/C) who was smiling ear to ear as he had already known what we were doing.

We then take off with me in the center with the puck, Theo to my left, and Matt to my right.

“The Flying V!!!” We all yell as we collide with (T/C)’s team. Matt takes his brother, leaving Theo with Brock and me with (T/C). But I anticipated him easily taking my puck, so I went to the left like I normally do, but I sneaked the puck to the right at the last minute and it passes between (T/C)’s legs. I decked around him and got back to the puck and shot and it went right past Zach into the net.

I then cheered, “It worked it worked!” thus causing Mr. (T/C) to laugh.

“You know you’re still losing 1-9 right?”

“Ugh, whatever! I still scored against you (T/C) and that’s all I need. Now I think it’s about time we went home, I’m pooped.”

Everyone agreed it was getting late and we should’ve gone home.

As we gathered all our stuff, Matt grumbled to himself.

“Forgot my damn phone in the locker room again! Ugh good thing they haven’t locked it yet, I’ll be right back guys.”

Then he ran off into the boys locker room.

“You guys go on ahead, I’ll wait for Matt” I offer followed by nods and goodbyes. I ended up standing around for about fifteen minutes before getting concerned.

What did he use the bathroom and fall in or something?

I knock on the locker room door with no response from the other side.

“Matt?...Matt come on I need to go home.”

Silence.

I huff and decide to just go in, it’s not like anyone else is in there and he was just looking for a phone not getting undressed. I look around and find him looking through a locker in the back.

“Jesus Matt are you deaf or something?”

Matt jumped, not expecting my arrival, “God (Y/n) don’t scare me like that! Haha sorry the walls are soundproof, don’t want the other team hearing our game plan”. I smile, letting it go.

“I hope you don’t mind me in here.”

“Not at all, I actually needed to talk to you-ah! Found it! Perfect timing too.”

I was taken aback, “what is it you needed to talk about?”

He paused, like he was contemplating telling me what was really on his mind.

“...you did really good for your first time skating.”

I was slightly disappointed, but still wanted to play along, “oh is that a compliment Williams?” He laughed, “yeah don’t get used to it (Y/L/N).” Then he grabbed his stuff and began walking out and I followed.

Once out, there by the bleachers was Mo who was at first smiling, but it slowly dropped.

“(Y/n)! You forgot your keys in my bag...what were you both doing in the men’s locker room?”

That’s what she was worried about.

“Thanks Mo, oh and I was just helping Matt look for his phone haha...Well I’m gonna go now, bye.”

I quickly sped off in hopes the shorter amount of time spent around her would keep me from looking like a threat to Mo. I knew she liked him and I didn’t wanna ruin that for them both.

.

I sat at my desk filing through the latest assignment as it was six-thirty in the morning. I got to (Y/n)’s paper and immediately regretted it. It was impossible to get her off of my mind, again. I then remember what Luke, one of my buddies, had told me about writing your thoughts and feelings about something to get it off of your chest. Might as well try it right?

Nothing.

I couldn’t find any words to describe her.

‘Dear (Y/N),

Words can’t even describe what you do to me. Your voice is like a gentle breeze that billows over the ocean tides. Your eyes twinkle in amazement and interest one like the stars in the sky or snow falling on a child’s nose. Being around you is like a drunk to alcohol, always wanting more and more until I feel like I can’t live without you. You’re smart, caring, loving, kind, I could go on and on like a senator giving a filibuster. I feel like I don’t deserve you in a way. When I was your age, I could barely hold a conversation with a girl, God I was such a dork. Even now, you’re still out of my league, out of my reach. Wishing you were mine to hold.’

And so it came.

I sighed and rub my eyes trying to ease my mile a minute thoughts. I decided taking a quick walk would clear my head, so I stood and walked out of the classroom.

Today is going to be terrible if this keeps up, I don’t know how much longer I can take her not being close to me.

I turned a corner to stop for a drink and kept going.

Maybe I should offer her extra credit so she can spend more time with me. Gah! No no that’s not fair to all the other capable students. What to do, what to do-

I reach back to my classroom, only to find Matt holding the key paper to the quiz we were supposed to take today.

“Matthieu Williams what in the hell do you think you’re doing young man?!”

He jumped and threw the papers back on the desk and stuttered, “N-nothing sir...Fuck you caught me Mr. (T/C), I’m sorry it won’t happen again.”

“I could get you kicked off the team for this you know.”

“And I could get you in some serious trouble with this letter you wrote about (Y/N).”

My eyes went wide and I stepped back a bit.

“...what are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb Mr. (T/C) it’s literally addressed to her.”

I glare at the kid and walk over towards him to take the papers back before he could use them against me, only for him to pull it away. Damn tall kids these days.

“And it seems you’ve caught me as well Mr. Williams. Now what will we do about that?”

“I’ve got a boon for you (T/C). You give me an A on this test and forget I was looking at the papers, and I’ll forget about seeing that letter.”

I pause and consider my situation. There was no other option, “fine. Now hand me the paper please.” Matt then finally returned my letter, so much for those. Matt’s face then went smug.

“You know (T/C) I feel the same way, what you wrote about (Y/N) that is.”

I could feel my face heat up with anger, causing me to grab Matt by the collar.

“Now you listen here you little-”

“Hey! Hey! Let me finish! I was going to say, I had liked her in the past, but it seemed she was a little distracted by you. I can tell she likes you (T/C) and I wanna help you.”

I let go of his shirt and step away, “and why would you help me?”

“Because even though I thought the same things you do about her and she obviously doesn’t return those feelings because of you, she’s still like a sister to me. And I really wanna see her happy.”

I raised my eyebrows in confusion, but it fades as I realized the answer.

“You like Morgan instead huh?”

He paused, “yeah, I didn’t notice it at first but the reason I’m letting (Y/n) go is because I found someone else I guess. But now to you, how long has this been going on?”

“What me favoring (Y/n)? Since she first walked in. I don’t know though, I’m not older than her by too much, but if I confess to her and she turns me down, she could tell someone and get me in trouble. And if she says yes, it’ll be hard to keep our relationship a secret.”

Matt leaned back against a desk and crossed his arms.

“And so what? If she is really worth all this to you, then tell her that. You’re her favorite teacher and she talks about you all the time and I’m sure she shares your feelings. If you don’t try then you’ll regret it I promise you that, and in all honesty I think you’re running out of time. Lots of guys are pursuing her and it’s only a matter of time before she caves because you took too long.”

I lowered my head knowing he was right and sighed.

“Fine then. Got any ideas as to how I can tell her correctly?”

Matt smiled and set his hand on my shoulder.

“I’ve asked tons of girls out before, you’re in good hands.”

.

Morgan had told me to meet her on the second floor classroom commons which was basically just a lounge around the counselor’s office. She didn’t tell me why or give any details so I was kinda rushing, causing me to turn a corner a little too sharply and bump into a teacher I didn’t know.

“Gosh I’m so sorry miss, here let me get that for you.”

“Oh thank you honey, where are you headed to in such a hurry?”

“Oh just worried for a friend.”

“Ah I see, what was your name again darling? I didn’t catch it, I'm Miss Crossland.”

“Oh I’m (Y/n), nice to meet you.”

I held out my hand but she just stared at it, looked up, and glared at me.

“You should watch where you’re going miss. Good day to you.” And then she walked off. I let my hand fall back into my pocket.

Rude ass bitch.

And I quickly walked towards Mo.

The second semester started tomorrow and here I was sitting in front of my computer screen staring at my schedule in awe. I had a new English teacher. Miss Crossland. Great. I groan and fall back onto my pillows as I try getting some sleep. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that my final semester as a senior was going to be hell because of her, and I don’t even know why she hates me.

Morning came and I walked into my first class which was math, and started counting down the minutes until I’d have to endure Miss stuck up. Finally the bell rang and I felt my feet drag as I got closer and closer to her classroom, which was surprisingly right across the hall from my next period with Mr. (T/C). Thank God I still had his class.

“Miss (Y/n) nice to see you not bumping into people this time. Your seat is at the front closest to my desk.”

I didn’t say anything back, too busy silently cursing her under my breath, and rolled my eyes after passing her. I looked over at my desk locked eyes with Matt in the desk right next to mine and immediately felt better.

“Thank our lord and savior Jesus Christ you’re here.”

Matt laughed, “what’s got you all worked up?”

“Oh nothing except for the fact that Miss Crossland already hates me and I have no clue as to why.”

Matt looked at me with concern.

“What did you do?”

“Absolutely nothing! I helped her pick up papers one day and told her my name and that’s all it took!”

He threw his head back and laughed, “maybe she knew someone she didn’t like who had your name too.”

“I guess, I don’t care just as long as I don’t have any problems with her.”

But of course we ended up with problems. She critiqued every little thing I did from my writing to my outfits. She was basically calling me a dumbass whore every day.

“What do you mean? This paragraph has no more clutter to get rid of Miss, this is the third time I’ve edited this particular section.”

I was currently fighting her over a damn essay that she decided to give a ‘C’ because of my terrible writing. I’ve edited everything she’s instructed, but to no avail, she keeps finding more things. I’m pretty sure she only tells me a quarter of the things wrong with my paper so I keep coming back more and more frustrated.

And damn was I getting frustrated.

“You can’t use infinitives and you forgot to delete all the conjunctions. Now get away from my desk, I don’t need your stench all over me.”

I clench my fist holding my paper reaching my limit.

“That would have been nice to know when you half-ass graded my paper Miss!”

“Watch your tone young lady! You will see me after class and that will be the end of it.”

I huff and sat down glaring a storm while endless curses spewed about my mind. The bell rang and I stayed seated, my gaze never leaving hers.

“Why do you hate me?”

She smirked and kicked her legs up on her desk.

“Oh don’t pretend like you don’t know you damn slut.”

My chair screeched behind me as I quickly stood. I despised people who called me or any women that.

“You’re one to talk.”

“I know you’re messing around with Mr. (T/C), I watch you basically throwing yourself onto him and I don’t appreciate whores messing with what’s mine!”

She also stood. Our eyes locked like we were in some sort of battle.

“How dare you assume such a thing! Mr. (T/C) is my favorite teacher and nothing more.” I couldn’t even comprehend what happened. All I remember is closing my eyes and reaching for my cheek that stung immensely.

She slapped me.

[zackattack2995]

School Reunion: a Hogwarts Mystery story

Word Count: 4,268 words

Zack and his band, The Motionless Witch, had just finished playing their last show of the tour they were on with Weird Sisters- who had personally invited Zack’s band when they found out it was the same kid they played a gig with at Hogwarts. “I knew Rock and Roll was in yer blood- kid!” Myron, the lead singer exclaimed to Zack while the two bands were hanging out in between shows. “Yea, I got kinda burnt out from Curse Breaking when I was in Hogwarts, and I needed an outlet.” Zack confessed. “I remembered playing with you guys at Hogwarts and I realized I wanted to start a band of my own.” “Hell, I’d say you’re close to surpassing us-mate!” Kirley, the lead guitarist told Zack. “Ah, you’re too kind.” Zack replied. “We’re just having fun, and we wanna do this until we can’t anymore.” Zack was exhausted after the show, and after saying goodbye to his bandmates: Matt on lead guitar, Tyler on drums, Ricky on rhythm guitar, and Kyle, the new bass guitarist, Zack picked up his black suitcase with skulls painted on it that held his spare clothes during the tour and apparated home.

           Zack was wearing a black Weird Sisters shirt with a long sleeve fishnet top underneath, black shiny skinny jeans that had some holes in them, combat boots, and a black beanie he had thrown on. Zack’s hair was considerably longer than he had it during his time in Hogwarts and it was parted to the left side of his face, completely covering it. Zack had the right side of his hair tucked behind his ear. He had both his ears pierced with an earring that had a spiderweb design, and he had a black nose ring on the right side of his nose. He kept his trademark black eye make-up that enhanced his green eyes, and black lipstick that he started doing in his Sixth Year of Hogwarts. Zack could finally relax at home with the people he missed so incredibly much. Zack entered the house and saw his beautiful wife, Carmilla writing a manuscript for her new horror novel in the living room. “Hey DeathDoll, I’m home.” Carmilla put down her manuscript to focus her attention on the man she loved more than life itself. “Hi, babe! Welcome home!” Carmilla had decided after five years of touring as the bass player of Zack’s band, The Motionless Witch, that she wanted to become a horror novelist instead. Carmilla now had her blue hair tied in a ponytail by a black barbed wire hairband while still keeping the bangs that covered one of her silver eyes. She was wearing her black square thick rimmed glasses that she wore so that she could feel like an actual author when she writes. Carmilla got up from the coach and rushed over to Zack, she gave him a big hug and started kissing her Goth Prince. Zack embraced his vampire wife and kissed her back. “Daddy is that you?” a small voice asked. Zack looked and saw his daughter, Lilith, walking down the stairs. Lilith had black hair, like her father with blue streaks that appeared at the age of five, which her mother found to be adorable. She had heterochromia, with one eye that was green and one eye that was silver. Lilith was ten years old and would attend Hogwarts soon. “There’s my little demon!” Zack exclaimed as he picked up Lilith and did one quick spin before putting her back down. “I know you just got back, hon, but we both got a letter from Hogwarts today.” Carmilla said. “Oh? Really?” Zack asked surprised. “Yea I haven’t opened them yet, I wanted to wait for you to get home.” “Well I’m here now, let’s open them.” Zack and Carmilla both dug their black painted fingers into the wax stamped Hogwarts crest that sealed their letters and silently read its contents. “A school reunion, huh.” Zack remarked after reading his letter. “I guess that could be fun. It would be a way to check up on the gang and see what they’ve been up to for the last ten years.” “We should bring Lilith that way she can check out her school.” Carmilla said. “That’s a great idea, you’re so smart!” Zack told his wife. “Let’s go to bed, we have a big day tomorrow.” Carmilla instructed. “Alright, head to bed Lilith. Daddy and Mommy are gonna show you your school tomorrow and you’ll be able to meet our friends.” “Ok, Dad.” Lilith said, heading upstairs. “I know you’re tired from the show…” Carmilla whispered in Zack’s ear. “But how about a little encore with your biggest fan? I haven’t seen you in two weeks and I’ve been getting hot and bothered without you here.” “I think I can do three or five encores, just for you.” Zack said coyly. Carmilla purred and playfully bit Zack’s ear, Zack chased after his wife who started giggling as she ran upstairs into the bedroom. Zack furiously kissed Carmilla while she started playfully biting his neck, and Zack closed the door, locking it so that they couldn’t be disturbed.

*******************************************************

It was morning, and Zack’s black cat Jinx, was waking up the sleeping couple. It took a few nudges, but Jinx finally accomplished his job. “Morning to you too, buddy.” Zack murmured, Jinx gave a quick meow and hopped down off the bed. Zack rolled next to his sleeping wife and gave Carmilla a quick kiss. “I’ll be up in a minute, babe.” Carmilla whispered. Zack put on his Nightmare Before Christmas pajama bottoms and threw on a black hoodie and headed downstairs to make something to eat. Lilith was already at the table eating cereal. “Morning, dad.” Lilith said softly. “Morning, sweetie. Did you get enough rest?” “Yea.” “Ok, then.” Zack made himself buffalo wings to eat with ranch dipping sauce. Zack normally skipped breakfast, but he didn’t know when they would eat at the reunion- so he wanted to at least eat something before they left. “Alright guys, we gotta get changed soon.” Carmilla yawned, exposing her pointy incisor teeth, after coming downstairs. “Yea, yea, I know.” Zack replied. After he finished eating, Zack went upstairs to grab his outfit for the reunion. Zack grabbed one of his band shirts from his suitcase and threw it on. He put on a different pair of leather pants that weren’t quiet as distressed as the pair he wears on stage. Finally, Zack threw on a pair of black combat boots and a black leather jacket with spikes on it. Carmilla came into the room and started putting her outfit together. Carmilla put on a black leather corset with a long sleeve fishnet top. She had a black gothic Lolita skirt with white skulls on it. Carmilla put on a pair of black and white stripped leggings, and finished it off with black platformers. Finally, Carmilla put on her black spiky bracelets and put on her signature black choker with a silver bat attached. Zack and Carmilla head to the bathroom so that they can do their nails, makeup and hair together. Zack has both sides of his dark hair tucked behind his ears and has his black eyeliner added. Carmilla has her hair tied in her usual twintails with bangs that cover her left eye. Finally, she has her red eyeliner applied. “Alright, we’re ready to go.” Zack tells Lilith as he and Carmilla descend the stairs. Lilith is wearing a black long sleeve top with a white upside-down cross on it, a black skirt, and black combat boots. “You look so adorable!” Carmilla gushed. “You’re gonna make so many friends.” “You sure?” Lilith asked quietly. “Of course, you will.” Zack said enthusiastically. “I remember meeting my best friend, Rowan, before I even got to Hogwarts.” Zack recalled. “But don’t feel too pressured.” Carmilla explained. “I didn’t meet my best friend, Chiara, until my Fifth Year at Hogwarts. And I didn’t meet your dad until my Sixth Year.” “Yea, just go at your own pace.” Zack finished. And with that, the Ropers were off to Hogwarts.

           The Ropers finally arrived at Hogwarts, and it seemed more crowded than usual. Carmilla was shaking like a leaf as she tried to navigate the different people crowding the West Lower Floor. Zack wrapped his arm around Carmilla and kissed her on the neck to calm her down. “I didn’t think there was gonna be this much people here.” Carmilla whispered. “Yea, I don’t remember this much people here when we attended.” Everyone gathered at the Great Hall and sat at the tables. “Oh my god! Zack is that you?!” a girl’s voice shrieked excitedly. Zack turned around and saw one of his oldest friends, Penny, race over to him. Penny was wearing a one-piece suit, had on a pair of red circled rimmed glasses, with her golden hair in a ponytail and has her usual braided parts of her hair tucked behind her ears. Zack stood up and hugged Penny. “Hey, how have you been?” Zack asked. “Oh, I’ve been great!” Penny retorted. “I’m the head journalist of Romours!” “Sounds very important.” “Nah it’s no big deal. I heard you’re in a rock band though… that’s pretty cool!” “Yea, The Motionless Witch. We just finished our tour with Weird Sisters.” Zack stopped his train of thought. “Oh, I almost forgot- Penny, this is my wife, Carmilla.” “Nice to meet you.” Penny said, shaking Carmilla’s pale hand. “pleasure’s all mine.” “And who’s this little one?” “That’s our daughter, Lilith.” Zack answered. “Hi, Lilith. I’m Penny… I was a friend of your Dad’s here.” Penny explained to Lilith. Penny turned around. “Oh, hey sweet pea!” Penny exclaimed. Rowan, who appeared to have not changed at all and seen carrying a little girl that matched his appearance, approached Penny and gave her a quick kiss. “Sorry, I’m late. Dumbledore wanted to talk with me about a couple things this year, and this little one started getting aggravated.” Rowan turned around to face his best friend. “How are you doing, man?” “I’m great. It’s good to see you again.” “Same to you.” “Oh, Rowan- this is my wife, Carmilla and my daughter, Lilith.” “It’s nice to meet you guys.” Rowan said as he smiled. “This one is Kisa, she’s very outgoing- much like her mother.” Rowan put Kisa down and she approached Lilith, who was hiding behind Carmilla, staring intently at Kisa. “I’m Kisa, it’s very nice to meet you!” Kisa stuck out her hand. Lilith looked up at her mother and father. “It’s ok, you can introduce yourself.” Zack told Lilith. Zack looked at Kisa. “Sorry, she’s very shy- much like her mother.” “I’m… Lilith.” Lilith said softly. Lilith slowly crept in front of her mother and shook Kisa’s hand. “Looks like you guys are already friends.” Rowan exclaimed. “Reminds me of when I first met you before we attended Hogwarts, Zack.” “Yea, I was just telling Lilith about that before we left the house.” “Well, we should probably sit down, Dumbledore is about to give his opening ceremony speech.” With that… Zack, Carmilla, Lilith, Penny, Rowan, and Kisa sat next to each other as Dumbledore approached the podium of The Great Hall.

“It’s great to see so many new and familiar faces today, as we celebrate a time of remembrance and strengthen the bonds we first developed while walking these halls.” Dumbledore exclaimed; his booming voice reverberated the room as he spoke. “I know some were unable to attend, but those of you who were able to, I’m happy to see once again. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, so with that being said… for one last time, let the feast begin!” Dumbledore raised his arms in the air, and suddenly food appeared in front of everyone at the table. The sound of eating echoed the room and Zack started eating the country fried steak that appeared in front of him. In front of Carmilla was a steak done bloody. Zack, Carmilla, Penny, and Rowan talked amongst each other while they ate, and Zack noticed Lilith was starting to talk to Kisa more… although Kisa had to start the conversation. “There you guys are!” a voice boomed behind Zack. It was another one of his friends from Hogwarts. It was an imposing figure, but Zack knew this person had a softer side. It was Barnaby Lee, a fellow Slytherin classmate of his. Barnaby hadn’t changed one bit- except now his hair was slightly longer and was messy looking. Barnaby was carrying his plates full of food while his wife trailed behind with a bored expression on her face. “Oh my god, how are you doing Barnaby!” Penny asked excitedly. “I’m doing great.” Barnaby said with a smile on his face. “Hey, be careful babe. You’re gonna drop your food.” Barnaby’s wife, Ismelda warned. Ismelda wore a black dress with cobwebs on it, she had blood red lipstick, and her black hair was longer than when she was in Hogwarts, but kept it parted to the left side of her face. “Oh, right- sorry babe.” Barnaby apologized to his wife. “I swear babe, you can be such a handful.” Ismelda muttered. “But that’s what I love about you.” Ismelda pinched Barnaby’s cheek, and he grinned from ear to ear. “Hey, isn’t that Chiara and Jae?” Rowan asked. Sure enough, Chiara and Jae were approaching the group hand in hand. “Oh, my goodness, Carmi! You look absolutely gorgeous!” Chiara complemented Carmilla. “Oh, thanks Chi!” Carmilla beamed. “Do you know where the others are?” Zack asked Jae, who wore a dirty suit and robe, and a gold scarf. “I know Tonks is here somewhere. Bill and Charlie couldn’t make it. Not sure about Merula. Diego- Mr. Bachelor is throwing a party at his place, and I believe Ben and Badeea said they’d be unable to attend. Something about presenting art pieces to muggles.” “That does sound like them.” Barnaby responded with food in his mouth. “Wotcher! How’s the gang doing?!” Tonks asked, pushing someone aside to their annoyance, to sit next to Zack. Tonk’s pink hair was longer and down to her shoulders. But her wicked smile was unmistakable. Tonks was joined by Tulip who had her red hair cut shorter with small bangs parted to the right. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the big rock star in our group of misfits.” Tonks said, greeting Zack. “C’mon, I’m not that big of a deal.” “Modest as ever.” Tulip remarked, shaking her head. “Don’t mind her- she’s become all Miss Serious Assistant Manager.” Tonks told Zack. “I’ll have you know, I’m Assistant Manager of Zonkos! So, I can still have some fun.” Tulip argued. “Let’s go around and tell each other what we’ve been up to for the past ten years.” Rowan instructed the group. Zack explained that he was the lead singer of his band, The Motionless Witch. Carmilla explained that she wrote horror novels now. Tonks explained that she got the job as an Auror. Barnaby excitedly explained that he became a magizoologist. Ismelda told the group she became an executioner. Chiara explained that she was a healer who specializes in werewolf needs. Finally, Jae explained that he works as salesman that sells contraband items in Knockturn Alley. “What about you?” Zack asked Rowan. “Oh, I took up the position of teaching History of Magic here.” Rowan explained. “No way!” Barnaby exclaimed. “Wasn’t it your dream to be a Professor here?” Tonks inquired. “Yea, Dumbledore said that Professor Binns wasn’t quite garnering the student’s attention, so he wanted me to teach during Summer Break as a test run, and he liked the results.” “I couldn’t be prouder of him.” Penny retorted. “That means you’ll be teaching Lilith this year.” Carmilla noted. “Yea, you’ll be the best teacher ever- I know you will!” Barnaby shouted excitedly. “What about you, Penny? Didn’t you say you were a Head Journalist, or something?” Zack asked. “Well, it’s kinda complicated.” Penny started, before she could give an answer, an ominous dark shape appeared before her… it was Severus Snape. “A pleasure to see you again, Miss Haywood.” Snape remarked. “Actually, it’s Miss Khana now, Professor.” Penny corrected. “Please, as one of my best students- you don’t need to call me Professor anymore, Miss Khana.” Snape retorted. “I wondered… why is it that you didn’t pursue the field of Potions further, outside of your time in Hogwarts?” Snape asked Penny. Penny blushed, this is what she was about to tell the group, but now she’d have to explain it to her favorite Professor. “Well, you see… I was originally going to work in the Potions field, but there wasn’t any room in that field to grow- so I worked at Rumours! instead. I became a head journalist, but I still craft some potions on the side.” “Ahh, I see.” Snape murmured. Snape glanced at Zack and frowned. “Is that a picture of me on your shirt, Mr. Roper?” Snape asked Zack. Zack looked down at the shirt from his suitcase he threw on and looked back at his former Professor. “Why yes, it is, Professor. It’s one of my band’s merch and the kids have been loving it. You like it?” “Mr. Roper, I’ve always had a mixed relationship with you. There’s been times where I could see your full potential, and other times where I couldn’t think any lower of you. You’ve always wondered why I’ve been so tough on you… wonder no more. You never cease to astound me.” With that, Snape left the group to join the other Professors at the front of the Great Hall. “Well, that went well.” Tulip joked. Tonks started giggling, and the whole group followed.

           After finishing their food, the group decided they wanted to explore the castle one last time. “Wait, honey- perhaps we should have someone watch after the kids.” Carmilla told Zack, referring to Lilith and Kisa. “Don’t worry, I got this.” Rowan explained. “Excuse me, Professor!” Rowan caught the attention of the Charms Professor and Frog Choir Instructor, Professor Flitwick- who looked as jolly as ever. “Yes, Mr. Khana?” “We were thinking about exploring the castle one last time, and was wondering if you could watch over Kisa and Lilith?” “As one of my fellow colleagues, and former star pupils, I’d love to!” “Thanks, Professor!” “Please, call me Filius.” With that, the group were off. The group chuckled and laughed as they raced across the halls, memories of their former exploits circled back as if it had only happened yesterday. Finally, Zack and Carmilla would give the group a look into a world only they knew: The Astronomy Tower’s observation deck. “This is where it happened.” Zack explained to the group. “This is where my life changed forever. This was right after I hung out with Tonks, Tulip, and Penny after Merula dumped me for Jacob- and I met the love of my life.” “I still replay that moment in my head.” Carmilla added. “along with other memories we shared here.” “Oh really? Like what?” Penny asked curiously. “Well…” Zack began. “This was the spot where I finally asked Carmilla out, because I knew she was the one for me. We danced here and had our first kiss.” “That’s so sweet!” Chiara cooed. “Jeez, well if it’s that romantic of a spot, then I guess this is where y’all had sex for the first time too- ain’t it?” Tonks asked jokingly. However, both Zack and Carmilla immediately blushed and looked away from the group. “We... didn’t…” Carmilla whispered. “We totally did not.” Zack stammered. “They totally did.” Ismelda whispered to Barnaby. “Blimey! That must’ve been really uncomfortable, Zack!” Barnaby exclaimed. “Would you guys just shut up?!” Zack scolded the group as they laughed at him. “Ok guys, I think we picked on them enough.” Tulip said. “We should probably head back to The Great Hall.” Rowan added. With that, the group navigated the spiraling stairs of the Astronomy Tower back to the Castle Grounds. “I can’t wait for our kids to start attending classes together.” Penny exclaimed. Before Zack could answer, a dark cloud shot down from the sky and struck Zack, pinning him against the brick wall of the castle. “Babe!” Carmilla shouted. The dark cloud cleared to reveal a woman clad in a black cloak. She had long messy brown hair with a blonde streak in the front of her hair. Her violet eyes filled with hate as she glared at Zack. “Nice, to see you- Merula. It’s been a while.” “I wish I could say the same about you, Roper.” Merula pulled out her wand and pointed it to Zack’s throat. The group all pulled out their wands and pointed it at Merula. “This doesn’t involve any of you!” Merula snarled at the group. “Just him!” “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Merula. How is it following in your parent’s footstep, and becoming a Death Eater?” “Well, well, well, Mr. Rock Star- I’m flattered you kept tabs on me.”  “kinda hard not to, you’re pretty sloppy compared to your folks.” “Well, none of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t made that choice.” Merula fired back. Zack became pale. Zack knew what she was referring to, but he couldn’t believe that it had that kind of domino effect. “You think I would’ve forgotten, but I didn’t.” Merula hissed. “And I’ll never forgive you. You took the one thing I had going in my life away from me!” “Merula enough!” Zack and Merula turned to see an unusual sight: Ismelda was in front of the group standing up to Merula. Ismelda had a serious look on her face and her fists were clenched. Ismelda’s whole time she was in Hogwarts, she let Merula push her around- but they weren’t in Hogwarts anymore, and Ismelda had enough of Merula. Merula cackled at the sight of her old friend defying her. “Look at you! Ever since you got attatched to Puffskein Brains, you’ve gotten soft.” “No, I just got tired of your bullshit.” “Whatever, not like you weren’t the first friend of mine to stab me in the back. Right, Lee? Karasu?” Merula looked back at Zack. “This isn’t over… next time we meet, you’re dead.” Merula warned Zack. With that, Merula turned into a black cloud and shot back up to the sky. Carmilla ran up to Zack. “Oh my god, honey are you ok?!” “Yea, I’m fine.” Zack told his wife. “I love it when you get all feisty, Izzy!” Barnaby exclaimed, hugging his wife. “I told you not to call me that in front of anyone!” Ismelda scolded Barnaby as she blushed. “Guys, I have to tell you something.” Zack told the group. He knew it wouldn’t be right to keep his friends in the dark, they’d be wondering what Merula was talking about and he wanted to be the one to tell them. “In the last Cursed Vault… R held you guys and Jacob hostage.” Zack explained. “I was forced to make a choice. I had to choose who got to leave the Vault, you guys or my brother.” Zack was getting choked up. This was the first time he had told anyone since he told his wife after Hogwarts. The group looked at him intently. “My brother looked me in the eyes and apologized because he knew. He told me the one regret he had was the fact that he couldn’t be the brother I needed him to be. I killed him by choosing to spare you guys!” Zack burst into tears. The pain of reliving this moment was killing him. Carmilla hung onto Zack and comforted him by resting her head against his chest. “I’m so sorry guys! I should’ve told you! I wanted to act like everything was fine- but it’s not… it’s been Hell! All the songs I’ve written have been about him in some compacity!” Penny walked over to her weeping best friend. “We don’t blame you, Zack. You were presented with an impossible choice, and you chose the best one you could.” The group followed and gave Zack a group hug. “Hang in there, Zack. Merula is just trying to play mind games with you.” Ismelda advised Zack. Zack wiped the tears from his face and smiled at his friends. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys!” The group returned to The Great Hall and all said their goodbyes. “Let me know when your next book is out, Carmi! I’d love to buy it!” Chiara told her vampire friend. “You’ll be the first to know.” Carmilla smiled back at her werewolf friend. Zack and Carmilla grabbed Lilith and waved goodbye to Rowan, Penny, and Kisa. “So, you excited to start taking classes with your new friend?” Carmilla asked her daughter. “Yea, she’s nice.” Lilith answered softly. “We’re both so proud of you, Lilith.” Zack told his daughter. “At least we don’t have to worry about Merula having a kid- Lilith definitely wouldn’t have gotten along with them.” Carmilla told her husband. “I wouldn’t quiet rule that out yet. I had my own share of enemies at Hogwarts. But if Lilith surrounds herself with great, positive friends- she won’t have to worry too much about that.” Zack mused.  For the first time, Zack and Carmilla were looking straight to the future- not for themselves, but for their daughter. And the future was as bright as the stars they saw when they stargazed together for the fist time.

END

[elizadushkudaily]

“The year has been in some ways just extraordinary in a beautiful way and it’s been in some ways extraordinary in a really challenging way,” proclaims Mapplethorpe producer Eliza Dushku.

From almost any perspective, that seems like an understatement from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer alum

Married last summer and expecting her first child this summer, Dushku has seen her more than a decade-long endeavor on the Ondi Timoner-directed film about the controversial and hyper-stylized photographer successfully make it to the big screen. After a premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival last year, the Samuel Goldwyn Film distributed-picture, with former Dr. Who and The Crown star Matt Smith in the title role, made a leap today with openings in NYC, LA, Atlanta, Boston, Philadelphia, the nation’s capital and more.

At the same time, Dollhouse star Dushku was thrust into a controversial spotlight of her own as it was revealed that the actor was paid $9.5 million to settle sexual harassment claims on the set of CBS’ Bull concerning star Michael Weatherly. Coming less than a year after Dushku herself spoke out about being sexually assaulted by a stuntman on True Lies when she was 12, the Bull situation originated from The New York Times publishing information from a leaked probe of ex-CBS boss Les Moonves’ behavior and the overall culture at the company.

Restrained by a non-disclosure agreement as a part of her settlement, Dushku nonetheless penned an op-ed in her hometown paper the Boston Globe in December 2018 delivering her side of the story. “I didn’t leak the story, but I was not comfortable with the false narrative that had been propagated, as I wrote about in theGlobe piece,” Dushku told me this week.

Walking a legal line, the op-ed laid out as much as Dushku could what really happened with Weatherly. The actor also detailed why as a once expected series regular, she suddenly was written out of the Amblin Television-produced series after just a few episodes in its first season after presenting her concerns to the network.

I sat down with the frank Dushku recently to talk about the making of Mapplethorpe, where she’s at now and how the current Boston-based Lesley University student got there this year.

DEADLINE: So, as Mapplethorpe is about to open in L.A. and expand across the country, and after a year of, well, a hell of a lot, how are you?

DUSHKU: I am well, thank you. I’ve become good at sort of compartmentalizing even if some people see that as a good thing, some people see that as a bad thing. The year has been in some ways just extraordinary in a beautiful way and it’s been in some ways extraordinary in a really challenging way. However, I feel like this field that I’m studying now, holistic psychology, is about combining all of these — you know, your mind body and spirit — and it’s exactly what I’ve needed and where I’ve needed to be.

So I feel like the universe was looking out for me in that. And in another sense, everything was supposed to happen for us to get to Matt Smith playing Robert Mapplethorpe. He is so good in the movie. Even people that don’t love the movie, they love Matt Smith in the movie.

DEADLINE: In that vein, I know Mapplethorpe was not a film that came together quickly, but how did you get involved in your first run as a feature producer?

DUSHKU: Well, the first time my brother brought me the script from the original writer was 14 years ago. We partnered with Ondi Timoner, the director and co-writer, and optioned the material from Mapplethorpe’s foundation, and it was a long, rough ride.

DEADLINE: How so? I mean, I’d assume one of the hardest parts would be getting the foundation on board.

DUSHKU: For us, there were a number of challenging factors. We had different other cast involved at different times. We worked on the script with the help of the Sundance Institute. We had taken the script to the producer/writer/director labs and wanted to do it right.

DEADLINE: Was Sundance helpful?

DUSHKU: Yeah, it’s a tremendous resource. They do exactly what I was talking about. They bring incredible mentors, and [Robert] Redford himself is up there. They’re giving filmmakers the tools to shoot scenes and then they critique them, and we were really lucky to have some Sundance love.

DEADLINE: So, talking about that rough ride, where was the love harder to find, so to speak?

DUSHKU: (Laughs) Look, this is a business, and as we all know these art movies — whether it’s Frida or Basquiat — they’re not typically a Marvel movie in terms of the return. So you have to sort of find the right financiers for a movie that want to tell a story that’s important.

DEADLINE: Did you think of packing it in by, say Year 10?

DUSHKU: Honestly, sometimes, sometimes. I remember reading about Frida and Salma Hayek, talking about how she’d worked for 12 or 14 years on that movie. This was like just a few years into Mapplethorpe and I thought, “What, that’s insane, how could anyone spend that much time?” But every time it felt like the movie had fallen apart, and there’s no way to put Humpty Dumpty back together again, the sky would open up and a glimmer of light would come through and we would sort of like chase that light. We found ourselves like hopping on a flight or going and meeting this person or chasing every leaf, turning over every stone.

We came so close to missing the window and I think you do, you get a real sense as a producer that’s invested in it that long that you’re leaving something behind, and it really has your sort of print on it and this one makes me really proud.

DEADLINE: Besides actually getting it made, which is a massive accomplishment, what makes you so proud of Mapplethorpe?

DUSHKU: When my brother Nate first brought me that script, I wasn’t familiar really with much of Mapplethorpe’s work. I mean, I knew he took some dirty pictures and I knew that he also took some flower pictures and I knew a little bit about his relationship with Patti [Smith] probably, but nothing substantial.

It wasn’t until we really did a deep dive into his work and met with his foundation and we ended up traveling to Florence for a day to see an exhibit where they had surrounded the David statue with his photographs and I started to realize what an international impact this artist had. What a great American artist he was. The guy was a trailblazer, he was a cultural lightning rod. He was so really brave and imperfect, but we also explored his complicated relationship with his family, his relationship with his religion, and with his peers.

We tried to get to the why and the what drove him. You see his journey and where he began to sort of reconcile in himself that “I am an artist and I have something to say that’s very different than what anyone has ever said.” I thought that was extraordinary, and that was where I saw so much courage in him. I mean, you think about being homosexual and doing what he did in today’s day and age would be challenging. Think about it 30 years ago.

DEADLINE: I do, and I think about it in the context of today’s day and age, as you said, and, to be honest, some of what you gone through …

DUSHKU: Yes, I mean, it’s terrifying. In many ways, we’ve regressed so much when we had made so many strides.

When you talk about Mapplethorpe and back in the ’80s and you’re talking about censorship and First Amendment rights. Yes, of course, there’s the irony of the year that I’ve experienced in terms of silencing people and big corporations. The silencing people in this day and age.

DEADLINE: You mean like NDAs and legal threats?

DUSHKU: To some degree. It’s scary, and I think, frankly, people need to be outspoken and say “We’re not accepting that.” That’s not who we are, that’s not what our democracy is based on. We have our First Amendment rights, and we intend to use them and not have people strip them from us.

So, to go back to Mapplethorpe, it’s extremely relevant right now. Also, in some ways, it’s wild because of the amount of time that it took to make this movie and yet the way that everything has lined up and the timing feeling so important and relevant. The anniversary of Mapplethorpe’s death was 30 years ago last week. The movie is now out across the country and expanding, and he has this beautiful exhibit in the Guggenheim in New York right now. It’s sort of this time of all things Mapplethorpe, so we have to believe that there’s something kismet in that.

DEADLINE: To shift gears, obviously the sexual harassment that happened to you on Bull and the millions CBS paid out in the hopes it and you would go away put a different spotlight on you last year when a copy of the internal investigations over Les Moonves and the overall culture there was leaked to The New York Times. Even with the NDA you signed, you not long after penned an op-ed in the Boston Globe on some of your side of the story, and people should read that, can read that if they want to get your POV. But in terms of NDAs, you recently said you believe that they re-victimize, what did you mean by that?

DUSHKU: As we just talked about in terms or our rights as Americans, and to be able to be complete people, we need the right to stand in our power and in our truth. When you rob somebody of that or when you threaten somebody, it’s really damaging. It’s damaging beyond my business or it’s damaging to a person’s personhood and that is what I’ve really struggled with and realized over the last year.

DEADLINE: How?

DUSHKU: As I’m studying trauma and addiction and holistic psychology and the way we store things in our bodies, I’ve also watched this year and I’ve talked to other women who have been part of the #MeToo and Time’s Up movement, and it’s been a year of reckoning.

It’s time for us to be open about that and say, “No, we’re going to stand in our truth, we’re going to stand in our power.”

DEADLINE: Do you think that #MeToo and Time’s Up can really work, or do you think that Hollywood eventually will revert to its tried and true and bad ways when it comes to sexual harassment, sexual assault and the culture of complacency?

DUSHKU: I’ll say this: In my case, what made me feel a responsibility was the fact that I had been around for so many years. I have been around for almost 30 years. I had worked and built myself up to a place where you know I wasn’t off the bus and yet on a set, I didn’t have a voice. After all those years, to find myself feeling powerless and feeling victimized was not — it was more important to me to tell the truth and face the consequences.

I didn’t leak the story, but I was not comfortable with the false narrative that had been propagated, as I wrote about in the Globe piece. That’s what I’ve been trying to do. But, as you said, I took the opportunity to fully respond to the leak in the CBS case. I responded very deliberately and very intentionally with my Globe piece in many ways in hopes that then I would be able to go on and celebrate the things that I have worked so hard for and on, and not have the bad behavior of men and others define my life going forward.

DEADLINE: Clearly, that’s not where your head is at…

DUSHKU: This year did shake me, you know — didn’t break me, that’s for sure. Like, this is one of my first trips back to LA in a little while, and I actually spent the morning with the three heads of the Time’s Up organization and Mr. Steven Spielberg.

DEADLINE: What was that discussion like with them and the man who, among other things, is the boss of Bull producers Amblin TV?

DUSHKU: Good. We sat and brainstormed and discussed possible solutions for this systemic imbalance of power, the abuse and harassment that we’ve been seeing and hearing and experiencing and both in our industry and beyond. That’s something that you know that I can and will continue to contribute to and I want to look at it from my own experience.

DEADLINE: Do you think others, at that meeting today and otherwise, get that?

DUSHKU: Yes, I think this is a movement. This is not a fad and that’s one thing that was really clear in talking with these women this morning. We need strength in numbers. We need allies like Steven Spielberg, and of course, we do need the media to tell the stories and to help lay responsibility and accountability where it needs to be.

DEADLINE: And for you?

DUSHKU: I want to look at it from a holistic healing perspective and the work I hope to do there. You know, I wouldn’t sit here and say it’s all very exciting, but I think we all at a certain point realize in our lives that as everything starts to intersect you do start to figure out sort of who you are and what you’re here for. I think one of the hardest parts when we’re all facing the different forms of adversity in our lives, is that we do end up carrying a lot of shame. We do end up covering things up and hiding things and then if you come out with things then you have to face the sort of backlash or the opinions of everybody sort of looking at you and judging you. It can all be really overwhelming and you can feel like you just want to numb out and escape. Now, I’m learning to transform that into something that might help someone else.

Of course, I understand that journalists have their job and that they have to ask, but I also would hope that that’s something that people pay attention to. That part of my being able to heal and to move on is to be able to stand in the power that I produced this movie for 14 years and it’s doing incredibly well and we’re expanding this week. It’s an accomplishment having been an actor for so long, as my first feature as a producer and yeah, I’m really, I’m really psyched about that.

DEADLINE: No argument there…

DUSHKU: Yeah. I’m not only in service of Mapplethorpe, I’m in service of everyone that came together to make this movie. While my story is important, I’ve talked about it, I’ve written about it. Now I want to be in service of this movie and this story and everyone that worked on it.

DEADLINE: So what’s next?

DUSHKU: (Laughs and points at her pregnant belly) Well, my next major production will be this summer in July and that’s right here. Other than that, I mean, god, to look back at almost 30 years in this business I feel like I’m just so grateful, I’m proud of so many of the things that I’ve done as a producer. You know, I was a producer on Dollhouse and that was an incredible experience. My brother and I also had produced a documentary about Albania with PBS, and it’s on Amazon now called Dear Albania.

So what’s next is just having that freedom to tell any kinds of stories that I want to tell that are important to me.

[fratboyvivimatthews]

7:10 - auston matthews 

summary: it’s been months since the 3 am confession, and months since auston and you had last spoken to each. it was fine you were busy with the Wild and him with the Leafs, it was perfect actually. Only perfect doesn’t last for long. 

warnings: swearing?, kinda angst,

word count: [3,140]

3:15

Masterlist 

“You land yet?” Was the first thing you heard from the blond Swede. “Because Steph wants you to come meet us for dinner.” Sighing you grabbed the backpack acting as a carry-on before filing out of the plane. “I get it if you don’t want to, Mitch and I tried-” 

“-No, no I want to. We just landed, so how about I text you when we get to the hotel,” you offered with a hopeful smile. It had been at least a year since you last saw all of your friends from the Leafs and you couldn’t wait. “I literally just walked off the plane.” 

You could practically hear Will nod his head with a goofy smile. “Great, I’ll pick you up there, and we can meet the lovebirds. Oh, and Y/n/n feel free to bring your playbook so we know how to beat you on Saturday night.” 

Laughing you rolled your eyes at the forward. “Even if you saw the playbook Willy, you should keep dreaming about winning because you couldn’t get past our defense if you tried.” He was quick to defend himself and his teammates. “Okay hot shot, I gotta go, see you in twenty.” 

Sliding your phone into the pocket of your team jacket you looked to your left to see Jordan Greenway. “Flirting with the enemy are we coach?” He asked in a teasing manner.

“I’d watch what I say next if I were you Greenway, I could make you a healthy scratch for the game on Saturday,” you replied with a smug smirk. His smile fell as he stared at you shocked. “I’m only kidding Jordan, there’s no way I’d let that happen with how you’ve been playing.” He was quick to smile in response before jogging to catch up with Charlie and Luke. 

Slowly you made your way to the team bus knowing Bruce would be handing you a full scouting report on the Maple Leafs, just like he had for every other team. “See you’re catching on,” his voice called with a cheery smile, “I knew you would, then again you caught on before you even started. You’re a smart kid Y/n.” You smiled widely at the head coach before saying a thank you. “That’s why I’m counting on you to find a way to shut down the Matthews and Tavares lines.” 

And then the smile was gone. “Shut them down?” Your voice cracked a little at the game changing task you were given. Last year those two lines had absolute games against Minnesota, each recording three goals. “I - I, how?” The pair of you walked on to the bus the older man still smiling at you. 

“The same way you got the team to shut down Crosby and Malkin. You’re hockey IQ is incredible Coach Y/l, you’ll find a way. You always do.” Bruce dropped down into a seat allowing you to take your own. The whole ride to your hotel you were staring down at the points and production for each line on the Leafs, but only one name stood out against the rest: Auston Matthews. 

The locker room was full of laughter and normal conversation, a refreshing atmosphere compared to the one of last night. The rematch of the 2018 2019 Eastern Conference Final was one the players would like to forget. Just like that series the Penguins had showed up to win, with the Leafs doing the same, only to fall short once again. One bad bounce off of Auston’s stick landed right on to Crosby’s, and in the back on the net. 

Something that the center couldn’t get off his mind, it was on constant repeat. If there was no bad bounce the game would have forced overtime, and maybe they would have won. He was so caught up on that game, that he didn’t even realize that you’re team was in town next, that was until Babcock announced to the team. 

“Okay boys, I want you here a little early tomorrow for some film, and then practice after,” the same process the team had heard countless times before. “Morning skate on Saturday to brush up on a few things. Then we got the Wild that night, and let me tell you, with Coach Y/l on their staff it’s not gonna be cake walk.” With that the Canadian coach disappeared back into his office leaving Auston dumbstruck. 

Turning to his right he found both Mitch and Will staring at him gauging his reaction. “The Wild?” The Arizona native asked the pair with a head tilt, “Y/n, we play Y/n.” 

The two shared a look before turning back to tan skinned male. “You knew this was going to happen at some point Matts, what’s the big deal? You moved on,” Mitch stated with a frustrated look. “So did she.” This caused Auston’s face to fall even more. His brown eyes met Will’s blues ones knowing he could help since he was the only other person that knew the truth. 

“She moved on?” Auston then asked hoping no one else heard this conversation but them. A frown had painted the young stars face as he unlaced his skates. It hurt him to hear that you had moved on, even though he knew you didn’t love him. “She has a new boyfriend?” He added praying that Mitch’s answer was no, because he couldn’t bring himself to love anyone other than you. 

The brunette shook his head, “No, she doesn’t. What I mean is that she moved on from needing you, and so did you Auston. You’re doing just fine without her.” Was he doing just fine without you? No, he wasn’t. “Now I gotta go, I’m taking Steph out to dinner, but wanna jump on PS4 later?” 

“Yeah, yeah sure,” Auston answered looking up from his hands, “have fun at dinner.” He finished getting undressed before turning to the blond, “Do you wanna go get food?” The Swede’s head snapped up from his phone to meet Auston’s gaze and question. 

“I, uh, no I can’t,” Will answered stumbling over his words. “I can come over after this thing, and we can talk about - you know.” Both fell silent knowing very well that’s the reason Auston wanted to go out, to try and get his mind off of you. He wanted to talk about what seeing you for the first time since that morning would mean, how much it would hurt him. “I’ll be there Matts okay,” he said with a sad smile, “and we can figure it all out.” 

With a nod of his head Auston looked back up to see that William was gone. Sighing he stood up from his stall and disappeared out of the locker room his mind switching from Crosby to you. Of course he knew this was going to happen, he knew you’d end up back in town at some point. Auston just didn’t think it would happen so soon, but he should’ve. 

He’d been following the Wild’s success all season long just because that’s where you were. Every press conference, interview, and media scrum you had he watched, or listened to. Auston knew it was stupid, that you wouldn’t care he was proud of you. You made that very clear to him since he walked away, but he couldn’t help but imagine what it would’ve been like it he didn’t break up with you. 

You would still be his girl, and Auston couldn’t help but smile thinking about it. He’d be able to make you laugh at his stupid outfits when you were stressing out over a loss, or make you smile when you were crying. All of the little things he pictured himself doing like you had for him. He’d be there for you as much as his schedule allowed, and it made his heart skip a beat thinking about it. And of course he’d tell you he loved you, over and over again. Until you got sick of hearing it. 

But then again this was all just a fantasy to Auston, the sound of a car horn pulling him out of his daydream. Making his heart break all over again as that night flashed through his mind. His fell smile and tears clouded his eyes because that was never going to happen as much as he wished it would. It wouldn’t happen because you didn’t love him, at least that’s what he thought.

You couldn’t but smile as you listened to Mitch and Steph bicker over what appetizer to get. This was the first time in months you felt stress free. Sure on off days you weren’t at the rink, but you were always doing something to make sure practice or the next game would run smoothly. But right now you didn’t feel the stress of the media, and expectations you placed on yourself. You felt happy and relieved. 

It had been ages since you had seen Steph, Mitch, and Will but god did the wait make it all the more worth it. Sure you talked to the three on a daily basis, but it was different. It was more personal being with them face to face. And you had Steph to thank for that. Your best friend had this all planned since you were announced as the new assistant coach for the Wild. She called it their congratulations dinner to you, even if it was five months late.  

“So Y/n/n,” the blond female said with a wide smirk, “got your eye on anybody?” And just like that your smile flattered, but thankfully only Will had noticed. “Well?” Steph pushed for answer something that you just couldn’t give her, and if you did she probably wasn’t going to like it. 

When Auston broke up with you of course you were heartbroken, but god for awhile there you thought Steph took it worse than you. She refused to talk to Auston for two weeks, so telling her that you still loved him wasn’t in your cards at the moment even if she was your best friend. In your mind nobody needed to know you loved Auston expect for yourself and him. 

Laughing you managed to recover from the blind sided question, “Yeah I have one, and his name is Lord Stanley.” This earned a laugh out of everyone of your friends including yourself. “But in all honesty I’ve been way too busy to worry about trying to find anyone else,” you lied knowing very well you could find somebody if you wanted them, so you smiled and hoped she would buy it. That the two hockey players would buy it. 

The smiles on their faces made it seem as if they did, but who really knew. Normally these people would catch you in a lie before it even left your mouth, because they were your best friends. “Well if there’s no guys then let’s get down to business,” Mitch stated his tone becoming more series than before. “Where’s your playbook?”

Laughter spilled from your lips only to come to a complete stop when you saw that Mitch and Will weren’t laughing. “Wait you actually wanted it?” You asked suddenly feeling your heart break, “Because there���s no way I’d give it to you - to anyone.” 

Then the laughter came, “We know that Y/n/n, we’re just messing with you.” Nodding your head you were slow to smile, and only did once you saw Steph’s smile shining over at you. That’s how the rest of the dinner went, jokes and playful shots at each others teams. 

The dinner ended with a friendly wager and some more chirps before Will drove you back to your hotel. “So Lord Stanley, huh?” Will questioned with his signature smile something you’ve seen countless times tonight. 

“Yeah, what’s so wrong with that? I mean he’s always running through your mind right?” You responded nervous to tell him the truth. Maybe he would be okay with it you thought. You for sure knew he’d react better than how Steph would.

“You’re lying,” he sang looking over at you with a smirk. “I saw the way you stopped smiling, and how you hesitated to answer. So who is he?” Now that you weren’t expecting. When you had lied to all of them you figured nobody would have picked up on it, only Will did. He saw the way your smile fell when Steph asked about it, because he was good at picking up on stuff like that. Just like how he knew Auston needed someone to talk to.

Taking a breath you decided if you were going to tell anyone you were happy it’s Will. “You know him actually,” you whispered giving him a small smile, and just like that you thought he was going to die from smiling to much. His head whipped around to stare at you and not the road. 

“No, no way. You’re joking right now,” he called his voice loud over the radio, “Y/n, you really don’t mean Auston, do you?”

“I love him Will.” When he heard you say this he couldn’t help but think back to that night, and how heartbroken you had made Auston. He realized you lied to him, and Auston’s tears were all for nothing. 

The first thing Willy had heard was the door being pushed open, then the second was a muffled crying. His head whipped around away from Miracle to see Auston’s brown eyes were puffy and red. “S-she doesn’t-” without another word the blond jumped up from the couch and wrapped his friend in a hug. The normally happy and full of energy Swede felt himself break just by looking at his friend. 

Will couldn’t help but think this was his fault. He suggested that the twenty-two year old go see you. “She doesn’t love me.” Auston hiccupped. “She doesn’t love me anymore.” And with those five words William Nylander could’ve sworn he felt his heart break. 

“What do you mean you love him Y/n?” It was like a switch flipped inside of Will. That suddenly the idea of you and Auston getting back together was a bad thing. Your smile fell when you saw him start to panic almost. 

Scoffing almost you narrowed your eyes at one of your best friends. “That I love him William, what less would I mean?” You hissed arms crossing over your chest. 

“Then why didn’t you tell him that five months ago Y/n? Do you know how heartbroken he was when he got back?” He questioned at a red light, “How heartbroken he is now?” Your throat went dry. You knew he still loved you, but figured he would get over it. Now you knew you made him feel how you felt.

Shaking your head you turned to face the blond again. “I did.” It was the truth, “I said it back but he never heard me.” Will’s blue eyes glanced to you before pulling up in front of the hotel you were staying at. “You have to believe me Willy,” you whispered almost as if you were begging for forgiveness. He looked away from you making you sigh and getting out of the car. 

So much for trying to fix things.

His eyes were glued to you, as you spoke with the crazy Toronto media for the first time. You had put him into some sort of daze, and he couldn’t break it. Auston listened closely to all of the questions asked, and even closer to your answer. Noticed how you spun the charm bracelet when asked a though question, or how your tongue darted out to wet your lips. 

Then your e/c eyes met his brown ones, and he could see how stressed you looked. How out of it you looked. Without a second thought he pushed himself away from the wall and made his way towards you. “Do you think your looks helped play a roll in getting hired?” 

Auston looked from you to find the reporter who asked it. He was seeing red. “I think that’s the end of this,” he announced stepping to you fully. His arm wrapped around your shoulder as he pulled you to safety from all of the questions. When he finally looked down into your eyes he could see the tears starting to form. “Shh, shh, you’re okay Y/n/n, it’s okay.” 

He knew that it seemed strange he was helping you, but after talking with will last night he couldn’t help it. Will had told him you still loved him so he knew he had to take the chance that was given to him. 

Your head shook at him trying to step the tears, “I don’t know how to be in this world.” He stayed silent knowing you weren’t done. “Tell me how to be in this world. How to breath in and feel no hurt.” His thumbs brushed away the tears that slipped out of your eyes. 

“I will, Y/n I promise,” he whispered hands going to cup your cheeks, “I promise you I’ll show you how too.” He felt as you slowly nodded your head against his palms with a frown painting your face. 

“What if you walk away again?” You asked his eyes never leaving yours, “I can’t go through that again Auston. Not when I’m coaching and already stressed out, so please don’t make me go through that again.” The way you begged him made his heart break all over again. 

Shaking his head he gave a small sad smile. “You won’t, because this time I know you’re more important Y/n.” His confession got a smile out of you, “I love you Coach Y/n L/n, but I’m sorry to say you’re gonna have to lose tonight.” 

With the tears finally stopping and a smirk working its way on to your face you gained your confidence back once more. “So you think Matthews,” you teased, “only there’s a new coach in town and from what I hear she doesn’t take no as an answer.” His smile flattered a bit, “But don’t worry I won’t love you any less tomorrow just because I beat you.” 

His laugh rang throughout the area as did yours causing both Mitch and Will to look at the pair. Their smiles found their way to their own faces as they saw the two of you slowly working your way towards what you used to be. “You see Coach L/n, the thing is you have to shut me down before you win.” 

“What like its hard?” You asked pulling away from him. He watched as you started to walk back towards the Wild team, only to turn and through a smirk over your shoulder. “You’re going down Matthews.” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way L/n,” Auston called after you his smile growing even wider because not only did he have you back, but he knew you weren’t going anywhere this time.