mxdoxx - Tumblr blog

[mxdoxx]

[mxdoxx]

-— lyla sutton.

“god why are men so bloody predictable?!” the blonde huffed as she collapsed down beside the other, frustration ebbing off of her, “i swear…if one more man tells me how he wants to play connect the dots with my freckles as he eye fucks me, i’m going to punch him in the fucking dick.”

@villagestart·

           Kieran would be the first to admit he didn’t mind watching things get a little violent. If anything, he found the idea of watching her kick someone’s balls quite entertaining. He even allowed himself to quietly imagine the whole scene play out in his brain. He knew men were shit, and predictable, and garbage and they certainly deserved all the kicks-in-the-dicks in the world... He’d had that conversation with every one of his girl friends in the past, and so he just spared her of the mea culpa. Instead, he just shrugged and handed her another bottle he would never charge her for. “Well, I’m the one in charge of the bar tonight, so... If you want to go ahead and do it, I won’t kick you out.”

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-— finn harrington.

Another father who neglected his family, treating his son like a punching bag. It made Finn’s blood boil. His attention went back to Kieran, as opposed to his dad, who didn’t deserve a second thought. Finn knew that any disappointment on his part for Kieran dealing drugs would only be hypocrisy. That was how they had managed to cross paths in the first place. If it weren’t for that, Finn might not know what it felt like to have someone who was like a brother. But Finn knew that Kieran dealing would only make things worse for him right now. Hopefully with the compensation he’s seeking, those days would be a thing of the past very soon. 

“I wouldn’t underestimate how soulless defence lawyers are,” Finn smirked, peering over to his companion. He was obviously speaking from experience. “I don’t like to generalise, but I don’t think I’ve ever met one that wasn’t a piece of shit.” It was clear that he included himself in that. “But once you find out who might be representing him, I can let you know what kind of piece of shit you’re dealing with.” It may be of benefit to understand what kind of defences they could take. “I’m sure Armande has it all under control, as long you don’t hide anything from her.” Finn had known the woman for most of his life, anything hidden from her would always rise back up to the surface. 

The car slowed as Finn pulled into a park near the bar he was already headed to before Kieran surprised him. He pulled the handbrake, stopped the car and turned towards Kieran before speaking again. “Come on, I’ll buy us some drinks.” 

-—

          "I've met one." His tone was emphatic, as he turned to face the single lawyer he believed had a soul. "I'm sure he's got a soul in there somewhere. Even if he can be a pain in the ass, sometimes." Kieran lacked to power to utter words of kindness, it was awkward, and weird, and vulnerable. Especially around Finn. Even if they knew each other well, even if they had seen each other in their lows, they still had a bravado to uphold. They were cool, and collected, sometimes angry too, but that was fine, being angry was cool – unlike being sentimental, or sappy. And it was important that Kieran kept it cool around him, because he admired Finn. And, in a way, he sort of wanted to be like Finn – he didn't care about the money, or the status, or his legal career; if anything, he found law to be quite dreadful. But he admired the man who saw him for more than a drug dealer, the man who always had it under control, the man who had taken him under his wing.

          Of course, Kieran being Kieran, he would never say that to Finn, as he would never tell him that he loved him like a brother. Or that knowing someone with Finn's position, power, and bank account was capable of looking beyond the surface brought him comfort. But all that was said in the friendly mockery he'd fired at him. It was saying 'I love you', without the actual words. And it was just the thing he didn't know he needed. To be understood and cared for by someone you admire. And to let them know you cared to, that you were there for them, just as they had always been there for you.

          "Yeah, I told her everything. Kind of embarrassing, if you ask me." It really wasn't, he was unarmed, and even so he'd been the victim of second-degree assault in an objectively unfair fight. "But hey, it was three against one." He decided against telling Finn about how he'd taken a selfie and sent it to Harrington right after being pushed face-first onto the sidewalk. "You should've seen the other guy, though." His remark was as sarcastic as could be. Even if he'd managed to kick someone, and retribute the bleeding nose his father had given him, Kieran was still the one who got out of the house with a fractured rib and who needed a couple of stitches above his left eye. But that was a story he could tell Finn in detail inside the bar, into which he followed him without questioning. Kieran might not have accepted his money for María Isabel's treatment, but he wasn't above taking up his offer of a few free drinks every now and then.

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🤍

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Just so you know..

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-— @klaraaxxx​

          There was an ironic duality to his personal personal take on patrons. Sometimes, he would have really interesting ones, whose stories were quite compelling and would keep him invested for hours on end – the worthwhile ones. Other times, he would have those who would make him want to get shot in the middle of his fucking forehead just so that he could get rid of them. It was quite comical to watch Kieran go through a day manning the bar, because he didn't really bother to disguise how he felt about a specific patron, like the time he walked away mid-conversation with a man complaining about having been ditched by his wife... But Klara Van Woodersen was one of those clients that Kieran made sure he was the one tending to. Kieran, like Nora, had a certain authority over their coworkers, and so, he would always rearrange the room to his liking, conveniently making himself the one at Klara's disposal, wherever she decided to seat. So, when she saw her unmistakable golden locks from the opposite side of the room, he made sure to trade places with Silas so he'd be her tender for the night. "Hey." A half smirk crossed his features, as she took a seat. "It's been a while..." He pointed out, his ambiguous tone indicative that she'd been missed. "The usual?"

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Morgan: Right?

Morgan: At least they don't cheat on you.

Kieran: right. makes sense. go get him

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Morgan: I knew it

Morgan: Oh oh!

Morgan: His name is Levi Ackerman and he kills titans!

Kieran: oh, well. that's pretty hot...

Kieran: so that's your type? fictional men that destroy monsters?

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Morgan: Well, he is human, in a sense.

Morgan: But it's tricky

Morgan: We just can't be together...

Kieran: in a sense...? and why can't you be together, are they cursed or some shit?

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-— finn harrington.

There was obviously some inner turmoil happening inside Kieran, but regardless the last thing Finn wanted to do was push past whatever his young friend was willing to give right now. The mention of Kieran’s mother made Finn’s stomach twist. It was too eerily similar to his own life. To times where he’d made choices based on fear and anger. Choices that in the early hours of the morning or moments of still silence, Finn relived. The lump in his throat made swallowing more difficult but he cleared his throat before speaking. “That’s good,” he nodded his head to Kieran. Finn didn’t want to mention that he’d been checking in now and then. “How’re you handling it all?” From the apology and overall demeanour could strike a guess at not well. 

His car automatically unlocked as they walked closer to it. “You know, I can still help” he couldn’t stop himself from saying. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” Finn wasn’t alone when this happened to him. He had his sister, whom he left to pick up the pieces. It wasn’t a mistake he was going to repeat. 

-—

          "I'm not." Kieran let out a brief sarcastic snort. He really wasn't handling it, though. Well, he sort of was, financially. Cutting down on bills most as he could in order to be able to afford some of his mother's treatment and not be so in debt when she got out of the hospital – if she did get out of the hospital. Emotionally, though... What a fiasco he'd become. Kieran had simply turned to tuning out the noise, to pretending his mother couldn't just drop dead out of the blue. Denial was the easiest pill to swallow, and so, he overdosed on it. It felt wrong calling it a side-effect of a hopeful imagination, because, frankly, Kieran felt very little hope, life had taught him how it breeds eternal misery... Rather, his denial felt more like a consequence of sheer desperation. Yes, María Isabel was a flawed woman. She wasn't the perfect mother, she didn't sugarcoat the bad, she didn't motivate him to pursue his artistic dreams and, she was quite absent. But she was still his mother. The woman who would give her life for him, if necessary. The woman who would pull eighteen-hour shifts just to make ends meet and fill up their plates. She was his mother, and he loved her. And losing her, after the world had taken so much from him felt... Unfair. Even for someone like him. Hence, he was desperate, and in consequence, in denial. "It just fucking sucks... But I'm trying not to think to much about the "ifs", 'cause I might go insane." He kept his tone low, relaxed. It was almost like he was cool with it. Finn certainly knew otherwise, especially considering he was well acquainted with the feeling. But he certainly also knew it wasn't like Kieran to bawl his eyes out. His sadness just... lingered. It didn't ask to be announced, it didn't need a show to be put up. All it required was a home, and there it lingered, on and on and on, until it became a part of him.

          "Finn, I–" If that had been any other one of those preposterous Manhattan playboys, Kieran might have taken up the offer, paid his mother's bills, changed his name and moved to Spain. They'd never see him or their money again. Not that it would matter because both were rather insignificant, at the end of the day for them. The money he needed for his mother's hospital bills was rather insignificant, and he, well– he was just another drug dealer. "I can't." But that was Finn Harrington. Ironically, one of his favorite people in the world, hailing from the exact bunch he so much despised. "I'm not alone." He said, for the first time, actually believing it. "But you know I can't." He watched as the buildings passed, on the window. Light drizzle tinting the glass. "But something else happened, and I get some money out of it..." A pause, he looked down at his lap. "I'm suing my dad. It's a criminal case, actually, so it had to go trough the DA. I just got back from Armande's office. Long story short, I went into his place – with a key –" Since his meeting with Armande he realized he should reveal all the details of the story before sounding like he just broke in through the first floor window and stole some cash from a safe, "And I went looking for some cash. He hadn't been answering my calls for months, so there wasn't anything else I could do... So, he gets home, with a couple of friends, catches me inside and the three of them beat me up. I'm expecting to get some compensation for assault..." Did he get the legalese right?

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-— john lewis.

John had talked too many drug dealers in his time. This stranger didn’t strike him as the usual type. First off, he didn’t call John any names for not buying off of him nor did he push or ask if John was sure of his decision like so many others. Immediately, the level of appreciation for the man struck him and he knew that he would be sticking close to him throughout the night if he were wanted. 

He saw the immediate want for a secret kept between them and agreed, delighted that he could keep a piece of this night for himself without having to give anything up for it. It felt like selling his soul sometimes - being around these corporate baboons and their money. No, he supposed he wasn’t their type. But he’d been around this type since before he knew he was separated from them and so he could blend in. Use his mysteriousness as a way to mask his shyness, use his money to mask his tenderness in a way and hope to make it until morning when he could retreat to his own home and lick his wounds from the evening. 

But it wasn’t often that he came across someone who did the same as him. Because Kieran didn’t seem like their type either, did he? “I could say the same,” he murmured, and a small secretive grin pulled at his lips as he glanced around them for a moment, “still, I think that’s a good thing.” Playfulness, it wasn’t something that he often felt but he relished it whilst it shown its face. “What are you reading?” He asked, desperate to know, his voice merely a whisper between then two of them. If anyone glanced over, they’d assume it was a business deal happening between dealer and drug-addict. John decided quickly that he didn’t care what anyone here besides this man before him thought. 

-—

          A wicked smirk marred his features for a brief moment. It had become his signature move at this point. It was almost instinct. The half-assed, broken smile of someone who knew more than they were letting on. John was right. Partially, at least. Kieran wasn't your average, run-of-the-mill drug dealer. Kieran was tall, and handsome, and cultured, not to mention he could be quite well-spoken when necessary. Truth was, Kieran had used his smarts to learn how to swim with the sharks and piranhas of the Manhattanite elite to the point it almost felt like he belonged. Most of it was a façade, of course.  But still, there really was a part of him that was different. Different from most people in his line of business, that is. The part of him that appreciated Dickinson, and whose ideal afternoon was a lonely walk at The Met. The part of him that sketched, and painted and even took his shot at writing sometimes. The part of him that was an artist... "Nah." He shook his head, in dissonance with all he knew to be true. "Don't let my pretty face fool you." His voice was light and cool, like he was simply stating the world's most obvious truth. "I'm not their type." He really wasn't, shrouded in privilege, born with a silver spoon shoved down their fucking throat. A life filled with opportunity and second chances. "But I'm exactly what they think I am." Again, his voice was calm, almost monotone. Because he knew no matter how brilliant an artist he was, he would never have their shot. Kieran could do the next best thing to Nighthawks, and it still wouldn't sell for a decent price. Those guys, though? They could draw a red line over a plain white canvas that they'd be considered the next Kandinsky. So he'd become what he'd become. A petty drug dealer. A 24-year-old so completely lost in life that he didn't even know where the fuck to go from where he stood now. Kieran was a lost cause, and there was no point pretending otherwise. Still, he allowed himself to indulge in the conversation. Not because he believed John would be his saviour, but because he had grown intrigued by him. He was young, single – he assumed –, rich... And still, he secluded himself into a corner with a drug dealer he caught reading a book on his kindle app... "I was reading Rebecca. Daphne du Maurier." His French was pretty decent, "Re-reading." He rectified. Rebecca was one of those books that revealed more and more secrets with time, a novel that begged to be read again and again, that still managed to play with one's perception in every read.

[mxdoxx]

-— @harrisonsnyder​

          The warm vernal air greeted him as he climbed the subway station steps onto the street. The sun had started to set, but the heat didn't seem to be going anywhere. Good thing he'd taken off his hoodie – not because of the warmth of course, but because the consequences of his keeping it on might have been far worse than just sweating his soul out. He walked the path he knew so well, right, left, and left again into an apartment building. Harrison's. It had been a few weeks since they'd last hung out, so Kieran figured he'd use his night off to invite his best friend out for a beer. However, Kieran hadn't planned for any small inconveniences that might pop up along the way – which was definitely an interesting way to refer to the police showing up during a delivery –, and so, now he found himself taking a detour. Instead of going straight to the bar, as he'd promised, Kieran stood on Harrison's doorstep. A change of plans, he'd informed his buddy via text 15 minutes earlier, which he assumed wouldn't be a big deal since Harrison lived quite close to the bar. "Hey, thanks for waiting for me." He said, the sound of the steps on the other side of the door informing him that someone was on the other side. "You don't happen to have a band-aid lying around, do you?" He look down at the cut on his forearm that he got from falling down the steps in the subway, earlier that afternoon. He had his black sweatshirt around it, but there was still a line of blood running down his wrist. "Or, like, four?"

[mxdoxx]

jake: what can i say, i’m charming and irresponsible.

terry: don’t you mean irresistible?

jake: no.

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JACOB ELORDI

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“We need to talk.”

[mxdoxx]

⚰️ horror movie ask game 🔪

a nightmare on elm street: top 5 fav songs rn?

hellraiser: do u have any tattoos/piercings? do u want any?

the texas chainsaw massacre: what’s ur favorite food?

my bloody valentine: are u in a relationship/do u have a crush?

scream: what’s ur favorite movie?

carrie: if u could have any superpower, what would u pick?

the shining: do u prefer warm weather or cold weather?

us: if u could change one thing about urself, what would it be?

jaws: what’s something u wish u were good at?

hereditary: do u drink, smoke, or do drugs?

nosferatu: do u have a lot of friends?

friday the 13th: do u believe in astrology?

child’s play: have u ever committed a crime? what was it? *adjusts wire* if not, would u ever commit a crime?

frankenstein: what’s ur favorite website?

suspiria: what’s ur favorite book?

re-animator: are u neat or messy?

the ring: if u could visit/live anywhere in the world, where would u?

midsommar: show ur lock screen + home screen!

halloween: what’s ur favorite holiday?

silence of the lambs: what’s something ur looking forward to?

the exorcist: are u religious?

paranormal activity: do u believe in ghosts/demons/aliens/magic/anything paranormal?

saw: give a controversial opinion >:3

alice, sweet alice: what would u describe ur style as?

the fly: what is ur biggest fear?

the evil dead: do u have any weird/obscure interests?

the vvitch: what’s ur favorite historical time period? (without the old-timey bigotry)

psycho: do u collect anything, or want to? if so, what? 

night of the living dead: what’s ur fav hobby?

the blair witch project: what’s ur biggest pet peeve?

alien: what character do u relate to a lot?

invasion of the bodysnatchers: how do u think ppl see u? how do u see urself?

house: do u have any pets? do u want any?

the thing: what’s ur job? (or dream job if u don’t work?)

final destination: what’s something everyone else hates, but u love?

rosemary’s baby: what’s something everyone else loves, but u hate?