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bellaxgiornata · 2 months

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Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-three: "The Unexpected Introduction"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You show up at Matt’s office hoping to surprise him and walk home together.

Or You end up with a few surprises yourself.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.] [FFTD Series Masterlist]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence

a/n: The installment in which y'all find out who the hell Matt ran into from his past not that long ago that put him in a bad mood and kickstarted Reader's recurring nightmare. Who's it going to be? Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction

Finally reaching the building's entrance where Nelson, Murdock, and Page was located, you extended a hand forward and pulled open the door. Stepping inside, you readjusted the strap of your purse on your shoulder as your tired feet easily began the familiar trek down the winding hall towards Matt’s office. You hoped that he would be excited to see you after the long day you'd had because you hadn’t told him you were going to stop by after work.

Each step quickly became more uncomfortable than the last, the backs of your dress flats starting to irritate your heels now, painfully digging into your skin. You'd been on your feet most of the day today chasing different leads for a story you'd been working on, and unfortunately your shoes hadn't been the most comfortable pair for the task. Now all you were looking forward to doing was walking home with Matt and having some time alone with him before he inevitably went out as Daredevil later–something he'd been doing a bit more frequently lately. But as you approached the office suite, the door with all three of their names displayed on it finally in sight, you could hear an angry voice coming from the other side. An angry voice that was clearly arguing with someone. It took you only a second to distinguish Matt's enraged tone.

Stopping just in front of their door, you hesitated, both your hands awkwardly clutching the strap of your purse. A frown settled onto your lips as you caught the rest of what Matt's distinct, irritated voice was saying.

“–irresponsible, Karen?”

“I'm honestly tired of hearing you bring this up all week, Matt,” Karen snapped. “It has absolutely nothing to do with the firm. Let it go already.”

“You represent our law firm!” Matt shot back. “Tell her, Fog! She's making a terrible decision! At the very least it makes us look bad!”

Chewing your lip as you stood frozen in front of their door, you caught the sound of Foggy’s unmistakable nervous laugh.

“Oh whoa, I've made it very clear that I am staying very, very far away from this,” he answered. “I'm not touching this with a twenty foot pole.”

An aggravated noise came from Matt, one you knew all too well from when his nights as the Devil didn't go as planned. Maybe stopping by to walk home with him after work had been a bad idea today. He hadn't seemed upset earlier when you'd spoken at lunch and he'd told you he had something he wanted to ask you, but now you were contemplating turning around and just leaving. But just as you turned, prepared to hurriedly shuffle back down the hallway and wait for Matt at home, you heard him call your name from inside the office.

You winced immediately, pausing mid-step. Of course it was ridiculous to think you could sneak away without him recognizing your presence, especially being in such close proximity. He'd already told you many times before how easily he could pick up on your heartbeat when you were half a block away even in the busy city foot traffic, there was no way a lone door was going to do much to hide you from him.

“I can hear you out there, sweetheart,” Matt continued, clearly trying to restrain his anger as he spoke. “You might as well come in instead of trying to disappear.”

Sucking in a breath, you turned back around and cautiously opened the door, stepping inside their office. The smile you'd forced onto your face wavered as all three of them immediately turned their attention on you. Nervously you shut the door behind yourself, taking a few steps into the room but staying near the safety of the exit when you spotted the look of barely contained rage still on Matt's face in conjunction with the way his hands were positioned on his hips. You knew that stance. He was clearly furious.

“Hey guys,” you greeted them awkwardly with a wave, one which only Foggy returned along with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to interrupt. I just–just figured I'd stop by and walk home with Matt when he finished tonight.” Eyeing the tight lipped expression on Matt's face and Karen’s annoyed and rigid posture, her arms crossed over her chest, you quickly added, “But it seems like I walked in on the middle of something and I should probably just leave and let you all get back to…whatever it is that you've got going on.”

“You're not interrupting anything,” Karen said, gesturing a hand towards Matt. “By all means take him home, we've been done with work for a bit now. And I could use a break from his constant chastising.”

Matt's hands tightened their grip on his hips, a muscle jumping in the side of his cheek. You took a step back towards the door, already aware that his temper was about to flare up again with the way the corner of his lip was twitching. And sure enough, he was quick to round back on Karen.

“You're being absolutely ridiculous about this,” Matt scolded. “At the very least, think about your own safety.”

Karen blew out an irritated breath, rolling her eyes at Matt. “Oh please,” she replied. “I'm not in any danger, Matt, and you know that. You're just being dramatic because you're still pissed about the other week.”

Another frustrated growl rolled out of Matt, one of his hands flying off his hips to loosen the collar of his tie. You glanced over at Foggy who was on the far side of the desk that all the three of them were standing around. Brows jumping up onto your forehead, you mouthed ‘what's going on’ to him. But Karen apparently caught the silent question you'd asked and her attention returned to you.

“It's not work related so there's no reason why you can't know,” she told you. “It's because–”

“ No ,” Matt snarled, taking an abrupt step towards Karen as his expression noticeably darkened. “She doesn't need to be remotely involved in anything to do with him .”

Karen scoffed, rolling her eyes at Matt. You continued to stand there in confusion, brows furrowing together as you attempted to make sense of what they were arguing about. Across the room, Foggy was shaking his head and focusing back on packing up his briefcase.

“We're friends, Matt,” Karen pointed out. “You think she's never going to meet the guy I'm seeing? Because that's a little ridiculous.”

Head tilting to the side, the look of confusion remained on your face. “Justin?” you asked curiously. “You both are arguing about Justin? Because I've already met him a few times, Matt. And you were there.”

Karen grinned back at you, a genuine smile on her face as she shook her head. “No, not Justin,” she answered. “We broke up a couple of weeks ago because someone else…reappeared in my life.”

“ Karen ,” Matt growled in warning. “I told you I didn't want her to know about any of this.”

Karen glared over her shoulder at Matt, her blue eyes narrowed. “Well that's unfortunate for you then because he was on his way here to the office to walk me home after work.”

Matt's expression briefly faltered, his mouth falling open at what she'd said. And then his head snapped to the side, his mouth quickly closing as a frown drew itself across his lips. You saw his jaw begin to grind back and forth in irritation as he focused just beyond the office wall on something. Seconds later his attention shifted straight to you.

“We’re leaving,” he ordered. “ Now .”

He leaned over, grabbing his cane from the desk beside him and roughly beginning to open it. He was moving in a rush it seemed, something that appeared to only further annoy Karen. Though you noticed Foggy was also beginning to move a little faster with packing up his things.

Who the hell was Karen dating that had these two reacting this way? He couldn't be that bad, could he?

A knock came from the door behind you, the sound drawing you from your racing thoughts. You saw Matt’s hands pause their movements as he stiffened beside the desk. Without thinking you turned, reaching a hand out to open the door for whoever had knocked since you were the one standing beside it, but just as you twisted the handle you heard Matt call out behind you.

“Sweetheart, don't!”

Swinging the door open, you came face to face with someone you'd recognize absolutely anywhere. The Punisher. Frank Castle.

His brown eyes rose up from where they’d been focused on the floor, landing on you. Your body instantly froze, eyes going wide in surprise. Whoever you’d been expecting to open the door to find, it certainly hadn’t been him.

You knew him well–or at least, well enough from your time working in the media. The only person who’d ever painted him with any sympathy back during the days when New York was terrified of him was Karen. Her pieces about him had certainly humanized him to you back then, making his violent actions seeking revenge for his family's death make sense. But still. The man had gone on countless shooting sprees in public, which was the main thing you remembered about him in this exact moment with him standing right there in front of you, his imposing figure filling up the entire doorway.

“Ma’am,” he greeted, dipping his head before glancing around you. “I'm just here to see Miss Page.”

“Right, yeah,” you muttered, quickly stepping out of the way.

“Hey, Frank,” Karen greeted, her voice visibly brighter than it had been a moment ago. “I see you’ve now met–”

“No,” Matt spat out, suddenly drawing you backwards and placing himself between you and Frank, “he hasn’t.”

Frank’s dark brows knitted together on his forehead, his eyes narrowing just a fraction back at Matt as his head cocked to the side. Then the corner of his frowning lip twitched upwards into an amused smirk. Matt only squared his shoulders, his muscles tensed like he was about to throw a punch while his left hand white-knuckled his cane.

“That your girl, Red?” he asked. “The one you been telling me to stay away from?”

Matt didn’t say anything in response, though he continued to attempt to block Frank’s view of you behind him. Over by the desk behind you, you heard Karen let out a sigh.

“Yes, it is,” she replied. To Matt she added, “He already knows about her because I’ve told him about her. Because she’s one of my friends , Matt.”

“Well now we’re leaving,” Matt replied sharply to Frank. “So you meeting her ends here.”

He reached a hand out behind himself, easily finding and grabbing onto your wrist. With a slight tug he pulled you after himself and you stumbled forward behind him. Matt led you back towards the desk with him, only releasing your hand to grab his briefcase from off the top of it. Karen shot you a sympathetic smile over Matt’s shoulder as you stood there entirely confused as to what all was going on.

“He's not attending that gala, either,” Matt warned Karen. “Find another date or go alone, but he isn't coming.”

Karen let out an irritated breath as she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the desk behind her. “Do you really think he's the gala type, Matt?” she shot back.

An aggravated rumble came from within Matt's chest in response before he turned, his red lenses flashing under the lights overhead as he focused on you. You sucked in a breath, unsure what you were supposed to do or say right now to not further upset him. You still had absolutely no idea what was going on.

“Home. Now,” Matt ordered.

“Okay,” you readily agreed.

Matt began to lead the way out of the office, his body stiff as he moved. You caught the tension in his jaw as he began grinding his teeth when he passed by Frank. You ducked your head and followed after him, desperate to ask him what was going on when you had both gotten out of the building and he’d hopefully calmed down. Behind you, you heard Foggy quickly scurrying out of the room after you, muttering an awkward goodbye to both Karen and Frank as he went.

Just as you passed through the door you caught the sound of Frank’s voice saying your name. You paused in the doorway, noticing the way Matt came to a halt farther down in the hall, his head immediately snapping over his shoulder. Glancing nervously back into the room just beyond Foggy, you saw Frank smiling back at you.

“Was good to finally meet you,” he said. “Karen’s told me all about you.”

You sent him a nervous smile, aware of how much Matt probably loved hearing that.

“Yeah uh, you too,” you replied awkwardly.

Once more ducking your head and hurrying down the hall after Matt, you heard the amused chuckle coming from Frank in the room behind you just before Karen’s hushed voice scolded him for the comment. Rushing towards the building’s exit, Matt, Foggy, and you walked the winding hallway in silence until you finally stepped back outside onto the sidewalk. Though the moment your foot hit pavement, Matt had swiftly spun around to face you.

“You need to stay away from Frank,” Matt warned you without preamble. “He's dangerous and I don't want you getting hurt, sweetheart. Are we clear on that?”

Your eyes darted over to where Foggy was standing on the sidewalk beside Matt, but he quickly glanced across the street instead of meeting your gaze. Fingers nervously fidgeting with your purse strap again, you focused back on Matt.

“I mean I'm not planning to become his best friend,” you began cautiously, “but if he's really dating Karen…I get the feeling he's going to be around us all on occasion, Matt.”

“You know who he is, right?” Matt asked.

You sighed, nodding. “Of course. What kind of New York City journalist would I be if I didn't?” you questioned back. “But at the same time…I do remember Karen’s articles. The man lost his family tragically. Right in front of his eyes. It…kind of makes sense that he'd want revenge. Do the things he went out and did.”

Matt's dark brows dipped behind his glasses as his head tilted sharply to the side. “Are you saying you agree with what he did?”

“No!” you exclaimed, quickly shaking your head. “Not at all. I'm just saying I understand why he did it. And that he at least wasn’t on some mass rampage for the hell of it like a completely deranged person. There was a reason. One that I think would be hard to understand without having been in his position. But Matt,” you continued, voice gentler, “what's got you so worked up about him? I highly doubt Karen would be with him if he was going to hurt her or any of us. I mean hell, it was your firm that represented him in court. And what the hell did Karen mean about you still being pissed about the other week? Because I’m guessing that had something to do with Frank, right?”

Matt's gaze dropped down towards the pavement, that muscle jumping in his cheek again. You glanced over at Foggy only to catch him quickly look away once again, avoiding eye contact. What the hell was going on?

“You want to tell me what I clearly am being left out of?” you asked, anger rising in you as you focused back on Matt. “Because I thought we didn't keep secrets, Matt. What’s been going on?”

Shoulders dropping in defeat, Matt let out a sigh. His entire demeanor immediately changed before your eyes and your curiosity piqued even further.

“The other week,” Matt began slowly, “when I came home injured and had a bad night out? Do you remember when I told you that I'd run into someone from my past?”

You nodded. Of course you remembered that night, it had been the sole cause of that damn recurring nightmare ever since then. And you'd never stopped wondering just who he'd run into that had gotten such good hits on him through the protection of his red suit, or who’d put him in such a foul mood.

“Yes,” you answered.

“It was Frank,” Matt confessed. “I caught him chasing after someone that night. I got in his way and stopped him because I will not have anyone killing people, especially not in my city. But of course he didn't…agree with me. At first. Not until after we'd fought.”

“Oh,” you said, everything beginning to make more sense. “So that’s who’d given you those bruises?”

Matt nodded, his gaze still downcast. “We’d come to a sort of agreement afterwards, Frank and I. But then a few days later I find out him and Karen started seeing each other. Which is just–” he paused, shaking his head, “–completely absurd. He’s dangerous. He attracts dangerous people with what he’s doing.” His head rose up, his attention returning to you. “Which is why I want you to stay away from him. I don’t need you getting caught up in anything he has going on, alright? It’s not safe.”

You held up your hands, eyes going wide. “Okay, okay,” you replied. “Like I said, I really don’t think I’m about to become best friends with the Punisher, even if Karen is dating him. But again…I can’t exactly avoid him completely, either. I’m not going to stop being friends with Karen, Matt.”

Matt blew out a rough breath, nodding slowly. “I know, and I’m not asking you to do that,” he replied. “Just…keep some distance from Frank. Please?”

“Okay,” you assured him with a nod. “I can do that. Now can I have my Matty back and the growly Devil can come back later tonight? Because I’ve had a long day and I was looking forward to walking home with you.”

A small smile grew on his face, the tension somewhat easing further from his body as he nodded. You found yourself feeling a little more relaxed yourself at the sight, your mood beginning to lift back up. But then Foggy abruptly clapped his hands loudly together beside you, causing you to jump as your eyes flew over towards him.

“Great!” Foggy exclaimed. “Glad that’s settled finally. Now Matt, do you want to tell your girl about this weekend or should I?”

Your eyes shifted back and forth between the two men curiously. Foggy was smiling wide as if the past ten minutes hadn’t just happened while a little smirk began playing along Matt’s lips. Eyes narrowing suspiciously back at him, you wondered what else was going on.

“What?” you asked.

“We were invited to a gala for this weekend–” Matt began.

“Last minute, of course,” Foggy cut in, clearly too excited to let Matt take the lead, “because I’m sure it was meant as a slight against our firm. But either way, we still got an invite.”

Matt chuckled, the warm sound a welcome one after how angry he’d just been. You couldn’t help the little smile from spreading out along your face as Foggy’s energy started to rub off on you.

“It’s to raise money for underprivileged children in the city,” Foggy continued. “It’s an annual thing, but it’s this fancy gala that quite a few prestigious names in the city attend. And we get to go this year!”

“Wow,” you said, attention returning to Matt as your excitement for them grew. “That sounds like a great opportunity for the firm!”

“Well,” Matt began, that smirk still on his lips, “I was hoping you’d grant me the privilege of being my lovely date to the event this Saturday evening.”

The smile immediately faltered on your face at his question. You noticed the way Matt caught your reaction with the slight tilt of his head and faint furrow of his brows. Fingers once again nervously toying with the straps of your purse, you tried to hide the anxiety that suddenly flooded you.

“Does uh, does this fancy gala have a dress code?” you asked hesitantly.

“It’s black tie,” Foggy answered.

You winced, chewing your lip nervously. “Oh,” you breathed out. “And it’s… this Saturday? Because I–I don’t exactly have anything to wear to something so…nice.”

The smirk returned to Matt’s face almost immediately. “Neither does Karen,” he told you. “So she’s taking tomorrow off to go shopping for a dress. And I figured maybe you could take the day off and go with her. Have a nice girl's day together. Pick out whatever you want on me. Dress, shoes, purse. All of it.”

Your eyebrows immediately shot up onto your forehead in surprise. Matt had never done anything like that for you before. In fact, no one had. Beside him, you saw Foggy nudge Matt with an elbow.

“Always so damn smooth, Murdock,” he teased.

The cocky smirk only grew on Matt’s lips as he remained focused on you. “So what do you say, sweetheart?” he asked. “Care to accompany me this weekend?”

Teeth clamping down on your lip, you tried to fight back the smile attempting to take over your face. A black tie event meant that you’d get to see Matt in a tux again–a rare treat. And there was absolutely no way you were going to miss that opportunity.

“I’d love to,” you answered.

Matt’s smirk grew into a wide grin, the anger he’d been feeling moments ago entirely replaced by a look of love as he gazed back at you. And now you secretly found yourself looking forward to having him with you Saturday night instead of out as the Devil once more.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock series #matt murdock #daredevil #fftd

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directdogman · 3 months

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Hello Hound!! Since it's Dialtown's 2nd anniversary, I've been planning up a few "general" related questions about your series that I've been meaning to ask, but I decided to save them up for the big day because why not? Anyways, here's what I've got, these were meant to be fun to answer so don't sweat it :]

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come?

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

5: What's a character you wish you could have given more screen-time or just in general content? (Considering iirc you were trying to make sure Dialtown wasn't TOO long, so I was wondering if this ever came to mind)

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

That's all I have for now, and I'm really excited to see your answers!!

I normally don't answer this many questions, but... alright, sure, tis the season!

1: How do you feel about Dialtown's success? Are you proud of how far you've come?

Yeah, of course! I'm a lil proud, admittedly, but I'm aware of how comically little I really have to do with it all, even if I did make the game. Luck does play a LOT into it, of course. Granted, I made my share of predictions that wound up being useful, but it always comes down to lady luck at the end of the day. I've seen good projects fail and bad ones go viral. It's really all just a hodgepodge of probability and whimsy. That being said, I am very pleased with DT's success, and the community that's formed around the game! It caught me by surprise!

2: Which character was the MOST fun for you to write, and which was the most PAINFUL?

Gingi's always fun to write. And Mingus. Most painful is tough to say. Maybe Crown. I got a little weird when I wrote his full backstory, kinda caught up in the emotion Norm talks about. Never been a fan of stories getting cut short. You gotta wonder what would've happened if he'd made different choices, y'know?

3: What is something you wish more people would talk about or just know about related to Dialtown in general?

Honestly? Karen, probably. She's super underrated for sure. The fandom still loves her, but she doesn't get the same kind of attention as Oliver, Gingi, Randy, Norm. She's worth it.

4: If you had the opportunity to write a FULL complete, detailed life story of any of your characters, who would that be?

Oh, I already have. I have this monstruous 30-40 page document detailing Crown's life and entire career. It's quite a read. and quite a mind-fuck if you don't know Dialtown's universe too well.

Oh yeah, a few characters had scenes that were cut. Stabby, Shooty, Mingus, Bunny, even Bigfoot! There's also the game's cut 6th datable, who was an interesting character with ties to other characters in the cast who I wanted to do more with. Ah, maybe one day.

6: From what I know, you've been doing the job of cosplaying several characters in the game and acting out their sprites, which one was the most fun to act out?

Bigfoot. I made the ape noises in the suit. Had to. It felt right.

7: Speaking of sprites, do you have a sprite you could consider your favorite, out of ALL your characters?

I quite like Norm's set, Mingus' too. Karen's poses too are quite good.

8: Do you have a specific line of dialogue you could consider your favorite throughout the entire game?

That answer probably changes every day. I like pretty much any scene where Mingus loses her temper.

9: Could you ever see Dialtown expanding into perhaps sequels or maybe even prequels? More DLCs mayhaps? Heck, maybe even a Dialtown 2 or a Chapter 4??

I'd love to make sequels one day! I've got a lot of ideas for where the characters/story would end up. By the time DT1 wrapped up, I'd conceptualized way too much stuff to put in one game (without it taking another few years to finish), so if I ever wanted to make sequels, I'd 100% know where to start! But, that's a later down the road conversation.

For now, I'm gonna keep working on the Roger DLC and if there's demand for more, I can go from there :)

10: If you could make any fan-made interpretation (such as headcanons, designs, or ships) canon if given the opportunity, what do you think would be your pick?

I guess I COULD do that with, like, anything. Nothing immediately springs to mind, since, y'know, I'm in control of the canon anyway. I will say, I've seen headcanons and theories that ARE scarily accurate to canon, to the point where I've feared people would just think I'm lifting stuff from the fanbase! It's a good thing I talk about these things with collaborators, huh? I've got a PAPER-TRAIL!!!

11: What was the MOST fun part about developing Dialtown? Coming up with new characters? Writing them? Adding all the bizarre dialogue options?

Finishing a new scene and realizing how stupidly long it was (without me realizing it) was always a treat. But yeah, writing the characters had to be it. Specifically any scene where a character the audience knows meets someone the audience doesn't know well (or at all), with the dynamic changing. Those are fun to write.

12: And last but not least — on a scale of 1-10, how fun was developing Dialtown just in general?

Hard question to answer. I do really wanna give a high number, but truthfully, a lot of game dev actually isn't super 'fun'. Some tasks are, granted, but many parts are a slog. Sitting and formatting dialogue, and then adding text pauses and pose changes isn't exactly a super thrilling activity. The engine itself also has some issues which I have to work around that adds to the workplace. Play-testing a scene for the 4th time isn't super fun either, or trying to figure out why the game crashes on some PCs and ONLY very rarely... Those tasks are Sisyphean to some degree.

...But, while most of those parts aren't fun, it's all still rewarding. There's a sense of accomplishment when you finish a scene. You get to look back at your hard work, remember the hours you spent typing dialogue into a text box and formatting mass amounts of pngs, painstakingly + manually getting the game's awful pre-loader to deal with the sprites right, etc... and suddenly, at the end, you've got this lil experience that people can play and enjoy. Somehow, the sum of all of those not so fun activities has created something that's going to make people laugh, feel happy. That's special. and even if some parts of development weren't super fun on their own, that's always what I remember. That in the end, all of those not so fun days mattered.

The route I agonized the most over was Oliver's. I went through a few weeks of writer's block, and now, it's one of the most popular routes in the game! Crazy how that happens. I was SURE for about a week that people would rank the route at the bottom! That's what I mean, all of the stress I went through trying to figure it out amounted to something people connected with! To think I almost CUT the route entirely!!!

And y'know, God knows Dialtown gave me something to throw myself at during a time where I REALLY needed the outlet. I'm very grateful to the project for that. So, I'll give DT an honorary 8 out of 10, even if it wasn't a consistently 8/10 experience making it heh heh! Sure glad I did, though and I'm very glad if any of you reading this had a really good time playing it! :)

Thanks for the questions!

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twola · 1 year

Text

Seven Deadly Sins - I

PAIRING: low to mid honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Summary: Because if one thing is true, it is that Arthur Morgan is a sinner. Pure, organic, non-GMO smut. A continuing series.

CW: Voyeurism, PiV Sex

Lust: an intense sexual desire or appetite, uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or appetite; lecherousness, a passionate or overmastering desire or craving.

➵ AO3 Link

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That is the absolute last time he ever listens to some hare-brained plan dreamed up by Sean MacGuire. Abandoned cabin, he said, not a soul around, he went on. He just failed to mention that this cabin near Eris Field was a goddamn Lemoyne Raiders safe house. Not nearly worth the take, and now Arthur needed more shotgun shells. He made sure Sean caught hell before sending the boy off in the other direction. He cuffed him over the head for good measure.

Arthur swung around to the south of Rhodes to keep away from camp for a while, it was only a matter of time until those inbred hicks realized it was another gang encroaching on their territory.

He spurred his horse into a gallop as the sun set over the west, and a full moon rose over the hill country of Scarlett Meadows.

Arthur hits the shores of Flat Iron Lake just north of Braithwaite Manor.

He pats his mare’s head as she slows to a walk, breathing heavily, coat worked into a lathing sweat. “You’re alright, girl.”

Trailing along the shoreline, in the distance, he can see the faint lantern lights from the gang’s camp at Clemens Point. He stops the horse, allowing her to step down to the water and take a much-needed drink. Swinging off the saddle, he pops his shoulder, still feeling a twinge of pain from his ‘stay’ with the O’Driscolls weeks ago.

A sound reaches his ears, rustling of leaves, movement of water.

He ties up his horse against a tree, unholstering his revolver as he sneaks closer to the small cove that the shoreline creates. He takes cover behind a wide tree trunk, slowly clicking the safety off his revolver.

He peers on the other side of the tree at the rocky shoreline.

It is not some bounty hunter, or robber, or frankly any kind of threat.

It is you.

You’re partially obscured by the outcropping of rock, but there is more than enough moonlight to trace the sinuous curves of your body.

You’re completely bare, nude as the day you were born, washing yourself in the waters of Flat Iron Lake.

He should be blushing and turning away, leaving you privacy while he reaches camp from another direction. But as the moonlight dances on your dewy curves, Arthur is guided by another notion.

He did always say that he wasn’t a good man.

Arthur holsters his gun, trying to be as quiet as possible. He watches you with the eyes of a predator, a hungry wolf with a doe in its sights. It hasn’t been since his untried youth that he’s so governed by an urge like this, being driven by pulsing blood and hotheadedness and want.

You’re wringing out your long hair over your shoulder, the expanse of your back and the curve of your spine above your hips visible above the water.

He swallows, hidden by foliage, behind the tree trunk overlooking the cove where you bathe.

Arthur can’t say he’s ever looked at you like this, thrumming with the singular need to sink his cock into your body. You’ve been around a few years, a dependable thief, a decent shot, he looked at you no differently than he looked at Karen, Tilly, or Mary Beth. But now, seeing you like this, he’s driven by a need that pounds in his blood. He knows he shouldn’t be here, dirty old man , but by some kind of force far stronger than shame, he is rooted to the spot, breathing in a deep breath through his nose.

He uncomfortably shifts, his hand over his gun belt that’s slung across his hips, tighter now against his hardening cock. He pushes at it awkwardly, trying to find some damned relief.

You turn, humming to yourself while taking a step closer to the shore. More of your skin becomes visible to him as you rise from the water like some storybook nymph.

He swallows, tracing the rivulets of water down your frame, down over your pebbled nipples and the swell of your breasts, your soft belly, sliding down your skin into the thatch of dark hair at the apex of your thighs.

Arthur liked to think of himself as being above that. Not so completely enraptured by the female form that he could think of little else.

But right now? His stiffening cock pressing against his pants is his priority. With guidance that he knows could only come from thinking with his cock, he steps out of his hiding spot and down to the shoreline.

Leaves rustle on the ground.

You catch his gaze. Surprised, fearful, like a skittish doe in the jaws of that hungry wolf. Stunned into silence, into stillness.

Water continues to drip down your body. Nothing is hidden from his eyes.

Were he not but a trickle of that fresh lake water, trailing slowly down your skin, down your breasts, your soft belly, collecting at the cradle of your hips. Weaving its way through the hair there.

Drip, drip, dripping to the hidden, dewy skin of your cunt.

You swallow. Your skin breaks out into gooseflesh as you shiver under the cold weight of his stare. You should scream, you should run, you should hide yourself from him.

Should, should, should. All of these things you should do.

But the way he is looking at you. The way he is staring. The shadow across his face from the brim of that old leather hat. The telltale sign of heavy breathing, his chest rising and falling. You can see his fist clenching at his side.

Arthur has always been distant. You had heard talk of a woman he had been involved with years ago, some high society girl that broke his heart. Not that you were particularly eyeing anyone in the gang for any self-gratifying reason - it was less complicated that way.

But now, now, he looks at you with a hunger that needs to be slaked. Arthur Morgan. Dutch’s top gun. The enforcer. You’ve seen him break men with his two hands, those two hands that clench at his side as he struggles with some semblance of control.

In this moment, you imagine those hands on you.

Something, perhaps the traitorous clenching of your cunt around nothing when you look at him, goads you into speaking up.

“Want to join me, Arthur?”

Your voice is soft, breathy, when it reaches his ear. He continues to stare, gnawing at his lower lip for moments that seem like an eternity.

His cock is so hard it’s almost painful, straining against the fabric of his jeans. A cool breeze rushes in from the lake and you shiver, the goose flesh that springs up on your skin makes him itch to touch you. Even feet away, he can see your nipples darken and harden.

“Are you coming?” You whisper at him, your hand slowly raising toward his still form.

The double entendre is not lost on him.

Arthur hasn’t been one to be guided by his cock, certainly not recently. Not in years. He’s not one to seek out whores in far-flung cattle towns the gang rolls through like a prairie wind. But Christ , if you aren’t here, hand outstretched, beckoning him to come to you.

His gun belt lands on the ground with a clatter. Arthur is kicking his boots off while shrugging his suspenders down his arms, fevered in his movements. His satchel joins his belt on the ground. He refuses to look away from your figure, refuses to give up a single moment of the moon shining down on the expanse of your skin.

Arthur works at the buttons of his work shirt, one by one, as his breathing becomes heavier. He nearly rips his shirt off, it falls to the ground over his discarded gun belt. The Lemoyne heat and humidity are stifling, and he has forgone a union suit underneath his clothing.

You suck in a breath, and he sees a glint of hunger in your eyes, beginning to match what he’s sure is emanating from his own.

His hands glide to the buttons of his pants, pressing them between the fabric eyes, his cock insistent against his fly.

One, two, three.

You stare at him, your gaze darting downward from his hungry eyes to his broad chest, covered in wiry hair. His arms, muscled and sculpted and brawny. The way his waist slightly tapers inward down to his hips. He is hewn from decades of intensive labor, the chase of violence, living on the lam.

The trail of dark hair from his navel that disappears under his pants becomes more and more visible to your gaze at each button he undoes. His fly hangs open for a moment, before he hooks both of his hands at the sides of his pants and slides them down, baring himself to you the way you are to him. He tosses his pants into the pile of clothing on the shore.

He steps into the water, unafraid, confident, driven. Wading toward you, the water creeping up with each step, up his calves, past his knees, up his thighs to where his engorged cock hangs heavy.

Arthur reaches you, his hungry hands on your body as your breath hitches, shivering as you close your eyes. A thumb brushes over one of your nipples. Fingers dance across the soft skin of your inner thigh, moving closer to the apex, and you widen your stance unconsciously, as your hands find their way to his chest, palms spread wide over the planes of his solid pectorals.

Your eyes snap open as your breath quickens, Arthur drags the knuckle of his pointer finger between your folds. You gasp, and in response his mouth hangs open, his other hand leaving your breast to dart down to his cock, stroking it slowly as he rubs at your core.

“A-Arthur,” you stutter, one of your hands moving to his forearm, clenching it tightly as he presses against you.

“ Jesus , woman.” He slips a finger inside you and you keen, head thrown back and gasping to the nighttime sky. Arthur groans in response, his other hand moving from his cock to grasp roughly at the back of your neck, pulling you forward, nearly stumbling into him, and captures your lips with his own, smothering your high-pitched wail with his mouth.

The hard, hot line of him is pressed against your hip, insistent, and as you quickly get used to his ministrations in your cunt, you reach between your bodies to ghost your palm over his cock, taking the place of his hand that is winding through the hair at the nape of your neck.

It’s his turn to groan, and you feel the vibrations of the low register of his voice down your spine, he juts his hips against you. He pulls away, gasping, pupils blown. His hand moves slowly back from your neck to cup your jaw, the rough skin of his thumb tracing your lips.

You open your lips and take his thumb in your mouth, sucking gently. His eyes widen, mouth twitching for a moment. You feel him push a second finger into your cunt and you burn , your teeth clenching down on his thumb gently as you suck.

You know, you know , that there is no going back from here, that you’re about to tread on dangerous ground, but from the way your vision narrows to the pulsing of your blood underneath your skin, you don’t care.

Arthur stares down at you, his thumb in your mouth, fingers in your cunt. One of your hands lazily strokes at his cock, your thumb swiping over its head every few strokes.

He draws his hand from your mouth and leans back in to take your lips against his again. His tongue presses against yours. You’re completely pliant against him.

“Gonna fuck y’ now.” He pants into your mouth, taking his hands from their places and quickly grabbing the undersides of your thighs, hoisting you from the water as your hands find his shoulders. Your legs immediately wrap around his hips.

Your lips remain locked on his as he wades back toward the shoreline, and once he’s out of the water, he’s sinking to his knees, bending over to lay you out on the ground.

Your hands card through his honeyed locks, as he presses his lips to yours again. He settles in between your hips, his cock pressing against your thigh.

You moan into his mouth, and one of your hands reaches between the two of you to grasp him, guiding him in between your thighs.

He pushes inside.

It’s slow, as much as he wants to fuck you until you scream, he can get to that later. Inch by torturous inch, he presses forward, until the bones of both of your hips touch, and he is buried deep within you.

Christ, you’re just as tight, wet, and warm as he’d thought you’d be.

He grunts, rolling his hips back to withdraw, then pushing forward again, swallowing your moan as his lips remain on yours.

There he is, fucking you on the sandy shoreline of Flat Iron Lake, the both of you naked as the day you were born, kissed by moonlight. He pulls away from your lips, and you both breathe fast, panting breaths.

“ God -” you croon, your blunt nails digging into his back.

He chuckles lowly, “Not quite.”

Arthur loops one of your legs over his shoulder, and your babbling becomes incoherent as he widens the yaw of your legs, and you struggle to keep your eyes open.

He’s careening toward completion, that feeling deep in his gut where he knows he’s about to have this burning energy that’s overtaking him pulled out through his cock.

You’re shamelessly moaning beneath him, gasping syllables of his name. God, hopefully, you ain’t so loud the camp hears you, cause there would be absolutely no hiding what he’s doing to you.

“I’m, ooh- god…” you spit out, voice breathy as you begin to arch underneath him, your cunt embarrassingly wet, the squelching of his thrusts becoming louder as you cry out, clenching around his cock, scratching his back near painfully. Arthur continues to fuck you through your release, chasing his own as his breathing tumbles into panting as he slams his hips into your own. He lets your leg down from his shoulder.

Arthur pulls out with not a moment to spare, the hot spatter of his release against your inner thigh as your back continues to arch against him. He groans, his forehead against yours, out of breath, barely holding himself up as his forearms bracket either side of your head.

You sigh, satiated, breathy, slowly coming down from your high, “Mister Morgan.”

“At your service, ma’am.” He places his head in the hollow of your shoulder, nipping slightly at your neck before he rolls off of you.

You’re both covered in sandy mud, streaks of the red clay that helps give Scarlett Meadows its name coating your skin.

“Looks like I need another bath. I was almost done, ‘fore you interrupted me.” You sit up, wiping at a smudge of mud on your hip bone.

“Mm, could help ya there, if y’ need it.”

You roll your eyes at him, and he reaches over to pinch at your hip, causing you to giggle and scoot further away from him.

“Arthur. Knock it off or we ain’t ever gonna get clean.” You scold but cannot keep the smile from your face. You push yourself up to stand, moving back toward the water, stepping in gingerly, wading out until you can sink down so the water covers your shoulders.

Arthur reclines back, propped up on his elbow, watching you pick leaves and twigs from your long hair.

You turn around, catching his eye. “You coming in?”

Arthur snorts, looking down, but cannot keep the grin from his face. He pushes himself up from the ground, standing up and wading into the water.

“Y’know, Mister, you ain’t half bad.”

“You ain’t half bad yourself, Miss.”

He circles you, your hair fanned out in the water. You eye him with a glint of mischief.

“I wouldn’t mind if we did that from time to time.”

“Oh? Would you now….” He reaches toward you, and you push a small wave of water at him in response.

“Mhm. But not now. You’ve got mud on your face.”

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan #rdr2 smut #red dead depression #seven deadly sins #twolafic

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sunflowersandsapphires · 10 months

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Spend a Little

Wake Up, Chapter 1

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In an attempt to stop the advances of an unwanted suitor, Matt Murdock accidentally condemns you to being his fake girlfriend.

warnings: swearing, no use of y/n, descriptions of anxiety

a/n: This chapter is a little slow to start because it was my first time writing Matt. This series is going to be sickly sweet so prepare yourselves. Also, most of the legal knowledge/anecdotes comes from my own experience because I work in a pro bono firm :)

w/c: just over 3k

Matt clenched his jaw, a flicker of frustration shooting through him. These NYC Bar events weren’t known for being overly accessible, and Foggy had promised to meet him at the entrance to help him navigate so he wouldn’t reveal his…abilities. Sighing, Matt made his way towards the crowd of people to the left of the ballroom entrance, seemingly finding their table assignments on the papers in front of them. His senses frantically searched for anyone that he recognized, but he didn’t smell Karen’s perfume or hear Foggy’s heartbeat.

As he was internally debating whether to enter the ballroom and simply hope that he could find them, someone at the edge of the crowd in front of him stumbled backwards over his cane. Dropping the cane entirely, he caught her before she could knock them both over in a domino effect.

She scrambled out of his grasp and whirled around. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry, are you alright?” Her voice was sweet, melodic, and echoed gently through his ears.

He chuckled, softly, “I am perfectly fine, I promise. Let me just grab my cane…” Matt suddenly realized she had already bent down to pick up his cane.

“It’s right here, about two inches in front of your right hand.” Heat was pooling in her cheeks, her heart raced with what Matt assumed was a combination of anxiety and embarrassment. “I’m so sorry for bumping you. I get clumsy when I’m nervous.”

Matt smiled at her endearing admission. “It’s alright, no need to apologize. To be honest with you, I’m nervous myself. I thought my partners were meeting me out front.”

“Oh no! These things are already so overwhelming, that would put me on edge too.” She shifted back and forth on her feet as Matt listened intently to her beautiful voice and stuttering heart. “Can I help you find your table, at least?”

“That would be amazing.” Grinning, Matt offered his hand. “Matt Murdock of Nelson, Murdock, and Page.”

You shook his hand, offering your name in return. “It’s nice to meet you Mr. Murdock. Oddly enough, I think we are at the same table. Would you like me to lead you there?”

“Please! Lead the way” Matt offered his elbow and you gently took it.

You pulled him around the masses taking immense care to not bump either of you into things. Your pulse fluttered under his arm, beginning to still a slight bit. Eventually, the two of you reached your destination. “We are at our table, there are 8 chairs total, one just slightly to the left of your left hand.”

“Thank you.” Matt murmured in response, donning a grin that Foggy referred to as a crucial part of his “fail-proof Murdock charm.” As he was about to invite you to sit with him, he heard Karen walk up.

“Matt, I am so sorry! I was running late and I couldn’t find a taxi and—“ Karen stopped herself, taking in a breath.

“It’s ok,” Matt assured her, pulling her into a hug. “I had help.” He smiled, turning back to where you were still standing.

Karen held out her hand. “Karen Page of Nelson, Murdock, and Page.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Page.” You two shook hands and you introduced yourself to Karen. After greetings and names had been exchanged, Karen took a seat to Matt’s left.

Before sitting down, Matt reached slightly to the right of his own chair, pulling out the neighboring seat and turning his attention back to you. “Care to join us at this end of the table? I’d love to have the honor of sitting next to the sweetest girl in the room.” He could practically hear Karen rolling her eyes at his boldness.

You chuckled, still slightly nervous but eating up his flirtation attempt nonetheless. “The honor is all mine, counselor.” You sat down, careful not to jostle the table.

As Matt took his seat, he asked, “So, how did you get roped into this event?”

“Well, I am representing the NYC Pro Bono Association but I also have a friend getting an award tonight so it was sort of a 2 birds, one stone sitiuation.”

“Ah, so you really had to go. Who’s your friend?” Karen asked, flagging down the waiter for a flute of champagne.

“Marci Stahl, she’s getting the Association Medal.” Your eyes gleamed with pride as both Matt and Karen gaped in surprise.

“No way. She’s our partner’s—“

“Girlfriend! Yah, I know. Foggy is great by the way, speaks very highly of you both. Quite often.” Matt could hear the smile in your voice as heat rose in your face again. He wondered why briefly but then…

“Aw, you guys! I’m so flattered but, really, you can talk about something other than my wonderful self when I’m not around.” Foggy’s voice brought a chuckle out of Matt. He heard you startle in your seat, your heart rate spiking again, before standing up to give both Marci and Foggy a hug. Karen followed suit.

“Matt, Karen, I see you’ve met my favorite volunteer coordinator in the city.” Marci said, squeezing your shoulder and making you flush more.

“You’ll have to try harder, Marce.” Foggy pinched your cheek, pulling out the chair next to Karen for himself. “I’m afraid she’s the best volunteer coordinator in the state.”

You took your seat next to Matt once more and leaned over to him, slightly. “I was just promoted, they’re way too excited about it.” You informed him and Karen.

“Too excited?!” Foggy feigned a gasp, clutching at his chest. “You have had this position for less than two weeks and you managed to place two of our impossible cases.”

“Wait, that bankruptcy case—you were the miracle worker who placed that shit show?” Matt turned his attention to you, slightly incredulous.

“Well, yah, but I—“ You stammered, clearly less than comfortable with all the attention.

“And!” Marci jumped in, running a hand over your arm. “You helped that client get representation for her damages hearing against Headstrong.” Marci turned to face the rest of the table, “The client got the damages halved. HALVED!”

“No way. Headstrong is the cruelest property manager in Hell’s Kitchen. We thought that case was already decided in their favor!” Karen looked thoroughly impressed.

“Ok if we’re discussing accomplishments, I’m at a table with three attorneys who took down a crime syndicate and another who’s getting an award from the New York Bar tonight. People should be paying to sit with you four.” You laughed, feeling out of place among such big players in the NYC Law community. After all, you didn’t even have your J.D. yet.

“We aren’t done complimenting you, young lady.” Foggy pointed his finger at you accusingly. “We’re all incredibly outspoken so you better prepare yourself. But, I suppose we can toast to my beautiful girlfriend. The ASSOCIATION MEDAL RECIPIENT.” He raised his voice, turning towards the other tables slightly to get everyone’s attention.

“Hear, hear.” Karen laughed, raising her glass. “To Marci!”

The rest of you raised your glasses, clinking them against each other and laughing amongst yourselves before downing the champagne.

“Ok, I don’t know about all of you but I’m going to need something stronger to get through this thing.” Marci sighed, looking for a waiter.

“I could definitely go for a drink.” Matt grumbled, making you laugh. Pretty soon, the emcee started greeting everyone and the five of you settled in for a long evening.

——————————————————————————————————

After the night of your initial, very awkward, meeting, you began to spend more and more time with Matt. Foggy started inviting you out with them for dinner or drinks. Karen suggested that you meet with them once every couple weeks to help refer cases. And Matt, well, he was charming and sweet, often offering to walk you home or help you get a cab. You thoroughly enjoyed your time with all of them, but Matt was some of the best company you’d kept in a while.

It was hard to believe how comfortable you already were with him—yet, here you were, practically pressed against him in a booth at Josie’s.

Foggy, quite inebriated at this point, claps his hands together and gasps at you. “Have you told them about getting blacklisted by Davis and Campbell?”

You groaned. “Foggy, please don’t make me tell this story.”

“Now you have to tell us. What could you have done to lose the support of an entire firm?” Matt scoffs at you, already laughing.

“Oh god” You buried your face in your hands, but began the story nonetheless. “Well, one of the senior attorneys was representing this police officer who had bludgeoned peaceful protestors and put a 17 year old in the ICU. And the asshole was bragging about it, saying how it was a toss away win and the protestors deserved it blah blah blah.”

“Ugh, what a douchebag.” Karen grimaced.

“Right!” You exclaimed, eyes widening. “And this was a cause that my organization had publicly backed and spoken about with his firm! So, naturally, I had to take him down a peg because what was I gonna do—just quietly sit there? I started in on him, telling him that if he wanted our partnership he was going to need to be respectful towards adverse parties, be less cocky about it, be more thoughtful about community movements. But I went a little…too big with it.”

Matt was practically vibrating with anticipation, his hip pressed to yours. “Please tell me you cussed him out.”

“Not exactly…I called him a bootlicker in front of the entire room” You shook your head as the entire table erupted into laughter and cheers. “God, I wish I could say I regretted it but he totally deserved it.”

Matt cackled, Karen gawked in disbelief. “You called him a bootlicker? To his face? But you’re so sweet and quiet!”

“I can be noisy if I need to be.” You smirked.

“That’s a good quality to have.” Matt nearly purrs, sliding his arm around your shoulders. You shove at his chest, laughing.

“That’s not what I meant, you perv.”

He squeezed your shoulder and removed his arm. “I know, I’m teasing you. But, seriously, I’m glad you called him out. You shouldn’t regret that.”

You smiled down at your lap. He gently nudged you with his hip, smiling. You nudged him back, heart beating faster as you watched him wet his lips.

You stared at him for a moment, taking in how handsome he looked in the dim lighting when you noticed the others staring at you.

Foggy smiled, waggling his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, did you want us to leave?” He gestured to himself and Karen. Karen laughed and gave you a pointed look.

You moved out of Matt’s space slightly, shaking your head to clear out the thoughts of kissing Matt. You’d barely been friends for three months! It wasn’t worth jeopardizing that.

“Sorry.” You murmured. Matt’s face fell, but he quickly recovered.

“Who wants another round?” Without waiting for the answer, Matt got up and walked briskly towards the bar. You bit your bottom lip, feeling guilty for ruining his night so suddenly.

——————————————————————————————————

The office was buzzing with activity and Matt was starting to get a headache.

“Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Alvarez. Is there anything else you need from me today?” He plastered on a smile.

“No, no. Thank you so much Mr. Murdock. You don’t know how much this means to me.” The woman before him sounded like she was holding back tears.

“It’s not a problem. We will get you your benefits back, I’m confident. Have a good day and let us know if you need anything else.” He opened the office door for her as she thanked him profusely.

After Mrs. Alvarez left, Matt let his back fall gently against the door. He sighed roughly, scrubbing a hand down his face. At least he had a minute to think before his next client.

Then, he heard a set of heels clicking down the hallway. A very specific, overwhelming perfume drafted through their floor of the building. Notes of vetiver and blackberry slowly trying to suffocate him.

This was so not what he needed today. He heard the commotion as she entered the room.

“Ms. Snyder! What a pleasure.” Foggy’s heart stuttered. ‘Lie’ Matt chuckled to himself.

“It’s Miss Snyder, Mr. Nelson. Ms. makes me feel like a walking fossil, but I am still woefully single.” She let out a sharp bark of a laugh at her self-deprecating humor.

“Ah, yes. Forgive me. How can I help you?”

Beatrice Snyder was a ruthless partner at Hogarth, Chao & Benowitz. She was known for being incredibly unforgiving and for her intolerance of “shenanigans”, as she liked to say. Matt, Foggy, and Karen were always polite, as she could be a fantastic ally if she chose to be and they had heard horror stories of those who got on her bad side. However, it was sometimes difficult to bite their tongues, given that she was cold, uncaring, and a vicious coquette who had set her sights on Matthew Murdock when he was fresh out of law school.

Being a huge flirt himself, you’d think Matt would’ve been comfortable with her advances, but Snyder was not one to take no for an answer and Matt had tired of her seduction attempts ages ago.

He could practically feel her wicked smile as she said “I’ve come to speak with your partner about a business opportunity, of course. Is he available?”

Matt bit back a groan, and left the safety of his office. “Miss Snyder! How lovely for you to visit.” He gave a small, tight-lipped smile.

“Speak of the handsome devil,” Snyder giggled, sounding more like a tortured dolphin than a charming suitor. “And how many times must I ask, Matthew, call me Beatrice.”

“My apologies, Beatrice.” He spat out her name, practically gritting his teeth. “Can we help you?”

“Yes, well, I was hoping you’d accompany me to the upcoming Liberty Gala at Landman and Zach next weekend? I assume you’ve all been invited…”

Matt nodded, “We have, yes.”

“It would be a wonderful opportunity for us to get to know each other, rather intimately.”

Matt’s mind was racing, desperately trying to think of an excuse. “Well, I appreciate the thought, but…you see—I—“

“Matt actually has a girlfriend.” Foggy blurted, smiling hastily. “Yup, Matt has a wonderful, totally real girlfriend.”

“Oh?” Beatrice shifted on her feet, clearly not expecting this news about the famed bachelor of the office.

“Yes, it’s a—uh—recent development.” Matt stated.

“It’s new but they’re quite serious so I’m afraid he cannot attend with you.” Foggy said matter-of-factly.

“I suppose not. What’s your girlfriend’s name? I’ll want to congratulate her on landing such a man.” Beatrice directed the question at Matt, causing him to panic.

And this is where it all went sideways. Because Matt, who usually prides himself on his ability to think quickly, blurted out the name that no one expected. Yours.

“Oh, that little project supervisor from the Pro Bono council?”

“Volunteer coordinator, actually.” Matt corrected, feeling Foggy’s eyes burning a hole through his skull. What exactly had he just done. “And yes, that’s her. My girlfriend.”

“Well…” Beatrice sucked in a breath, clearly fuming. “I’ll see you both next Friday then. I assume she’ll be your plus one?”

“Um—“ Matt hesitated.

“She’ll be there!” Foggy jumped in, unhelpfully.

“Then I will see the two of you at the gala. Do give her my regards.” She didn’t even bother smiling as she spun on her heel and stalked out of their office.

“You are so screwed Murdock.” Foggy shook his head, chuckling breathily. “You are so utterly, completely, devastatingly—“

“Screwed. Yup, I got it.” Matt’ brow furrowed. “Any advice on how to ask someone to be your fake girlfriend at an event with the biggest crowd of bullshit-detectors in the state?”

“No idea, but tell me when you’re going to ask her so I can bring popcorn.”

“You’re the worst.” Matt groaned.

“Yah, well. Can’t say I want to be you right now, dude. But it will be entertaining to watch.”

———————————————————————————————————

Matt wasn’t really sure how he expected you to react. With disgust maybe? Anger? What he definitely did NOT expect, was for you to burst out laughing.

“Wait, wait” you could barely get a word out you were laughing so hard. “This woman has been after you for years and not only have you never pretended to be taken, but the first time you use this excuse, I end up as your fake girlfriend?”

“Yes that about sums it up.” Matt grumbles miserably, Foggy patting his shoulder and popping a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

“Well, I can’t say this is what I expected to hear when Foggy texted me that there was an emergency,” Your laughter faded to small giggles, which lifted Matt’s spirits despite his embarrassment. “But, I guess I’m mostly glad none of you are gravely injured or something.”

“Yah, sorry. It seemed like, very urgent at the time” Foggy rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly.

“It’s ok! Though I suppose the real question is, what time are you picking me up?”

“What?” Both Matt and Foggy asked, equally astounded.

“I mean, I can totally meet you there, but I’m thinking it’ll be more believable if we arrive at the gala together.”

“You—you’re not mad?” Matt asked, still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“No, of course not!” You chirped, reassuringly.

“And, not only are you not mad that I just lied to a very important woman about us being together and potentially dragged you into some intense dramatics,” Matt continued. “But you’re going to come with me?”

“Yep!”

“As my plus one.”

“Yes, Matt.”

“To pretend to be my girlfriend.”

You laughed again, finding his hand under the table and squeezing it gently, making Matt’s heart skip a beat. “Yes, of course I will. Snyder is a stone cold bitch. If this will help you not be harassed, I’ll absolutely be your fake girlfriend.”

Matt felt his heart sink slightly, but he didn’t have time to reflect on why.

“Have we told you how amazing you are recently because you’re amazing.” Foggy beamed at you, embarrassing you with his praise.

“It’s nothing.”

“No, Foggy’s right. You’re—incredible. Truly.” Matt said, squeezing your hand again.

Your heart pounded, but you smiled. “I’d do anything for you guys. I mean it.” You took a breath, drawing your hand out of Matt’s and clasping your hands together.

“Now, tell me as much about yourself as you can. We’ll need crash courses on each other if we want to be convincing.”

Foggy laughed. “You are both so screwed.”

#matt murdock x reader #Matt Murdock #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock x you #Daredevil #daredevil fic #Daredevil Netflix #marvel daredevil #marvel's daredevil #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #matt murdock fanfic #my writing #mm

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rea-can-yeet · 10 months

Text

Not me casually dropping part two after a long time of me being MIA. Sorry about that! Y'knowzzz life and all hahahaha! I edited my tumblr pinned post where I put my current status there so yeah if you wanna know what's going on with me you can check it out haha anyway here's chapter two of 'mutineer'! Does anyone still remember this?? Or even this blog??? Oh god what if y'all thought this blog was dead??? Or worse- sagau ain't a thing much now? Wait lemme double check after I post this-

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REMINDER: This is gender neutral for all readers. Sagau stands for Self Aware Genshin Alternative Universe, but this is leaning much towards the God/Creator AU where the characters are aware that they’re being controlled but not aware enough to know that they’re in a game. This story is set in God/Creator AU, imposter AU, and lastly villain AU. This contains religious and cult themes, graphic violence, and probably some suggestive scenes (not this chapter yet, but the series will show some) so viewer’s discretion is advised.

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🔻

♦️

𝕄𝕌𝕋𝕀ℕ𝔼𝔼ℝ

"Damn, Y/n. There you are."

A friend, who she met when they were little and still vibe with even when they first became aerospace engineer students, commented while leaning against the old chipped doorframe. Her eyes landed on s/c skin, the arms to be specific, sweating. Her friend was huffing while holding a wooden bat, hair covering e/c eyes from her view.

She looks around at the damage the h/c haired had caused. Broken glass bottles, wrecked armchairs, holes in the blackboard, mirror shards around the floor, some damaged computer screens, and keys from shattered keyboards near the left cracked wall.

If this classroom wasn't abandoned or owner-less, she would have to use her wealth to bail her angry friend from being punished.

She had to witness Y/n being reprimanded for something they didn't do.

Stealing.

Ridiculous, she thought. Just because you hate a student doesn't mean you get to blame them for stealing your stuff just cuz they happen to be the last one to get out of your classroom, stupid petty karen teacher. If her friend wanted something, she knew that her friend wouldn't try stealing. And besides, she was willing to buy whatever Y/n asked, but she knows that idiot wouldn't like to ask for a lot of money from her. Y/n is greedy, but she knows Y/n is not that greedy. And of course, not greedy enough to steal.

And if the Y/n did resort to stealing, Y/n would have never been caught. She would bet her whole wealth on that.

Not only that, her prototype project for Aerospace Design class was dropped on the floor, breaking it. The culprit? One of the rowdy jocks. The man didn't even apologize and proceeded to run to who knows where while being chased by his friends.

And as if two bad things were not enough, Y/n somehow left a very important item back home; lunch.

That must have been their breaking point. So she had to follow Y/n. It took some time to find them, but she somehow found a Primogem keychain and thought 'Ah yes Y/n must have been here', and was led by crashing and banging noises. That was how she found this abandoned school a few streets away from the main road leading to their university and into the woods.

She knew Y/n's side that they rarely show to some extent, knowing her friend's tendency to be a daredevil, but she didn't think that Y/n would actually go destructive if being angered without a proper cause. There's an inkling feeling, of course, just being proven correct was a whole different feeling.

Her friend got a bad record and is being under surveillance and suspicion, hard work was unjustifiably destroyed, and lunch was left at home.

One bad thing after the other.

"Sorry." Uttered her friend, not much making a move of some sort, not even a turn of a head, still catching their breath.

She only sighs and lets out a little chuckle. Y/n is a nice person, loyal, and dependable. She understands that people have their own bursts of anger sometimes. Though, her friend has a little destructive flavor to it.

"You okay?"

"...Yeah." Y/n takes a few more breaths, taking in a deep one, then exhale. "I calmed down a bit." They say as they stood properly and turned to the person leaning on the busted doorframe that Y/n may or may not have also hit a bit. Dropping the bat carelessly, glass clinking from the impact, Y/n dragged up an armchair that miraculously survived their wrath. They sat down and wiped the sweat from their brow, their friend pushing herself from the doorframe and proceeded to sit on the armchair's table.

"Here." She pulls out Y/n's favorite drink. "Got you your bag and some sandwiches too." She hands them and Y/n accepts them with gratitude. Y/n puts the bag beside the chair and opens their drink.

"So question, how'd you find this place?"

"I have an attraction towards signs that have 'do not enter' or 'danger, not safe' on them if you didn't noticed. Or places with rusty barbed wires in the middle of nowhere." They take a swig of their drink. A breath of relief and satisfaction escapes them after. "This place was abandoned because of a strong earthquake years ago. This place will be bulldozed into a new establishment soon. Until then, this has become one of my 'Escape Places'."

She had to ask about this list of places her friend tends to escape to when she gets the chance later today when they play genshin at her mansion.

"How'd you get in the barbed wire fences anyway?" Asked Y/n as they eat their sandwich, e/c eyes turning to her.

She just takes out her assortment of skeleton keys. "I'm not athletic like you who can jump or scale over wired fences. I went through the gate. The padlock was rusty so it took some time."

Y/n hums, impressed. Then the face of amazement turns to surprise when she just drops the key on Y/n's lap. "You can have it."

"Why???"

"I found a shop that sells these in any color you want. I want them pink so you can have these since I'll be buying new ones anyway."

"You gotta stop giving me free stuff, I'm being spoiled rotten." The friend just laughs, picks up the keys, and shoves them into Y/n's bag. "You also gotta stop shoving people stuff when they try to refuse."

"Hush my child, eat and replenish. You have to help me farm soon. Those Regisvines are a pain." She zips Y/n's bag shut and sat back. "So... What are you gonna do now?"

Silence came between the two, though it wasn't uncomfortable. Her eyes scanned the destruction caused by her friend. She knew Y/n was a kind person at heart, and they tried their best to be good. To mind their manners, to be respectful. But she knows Y/n gets these impulsive thoughts sometimes. But she knows Y/n is goodhearted. Y/n knows their limitations and where the line is drawn. A very good friend.

But she knew that if being pushed to a corner, left with no choice, being wronged unfairly... Y/n wouldn't just stand by. And if given an unholy amount of freedom or autonomy, in short, freeing Y/n from any restriction or any 'leash', who knows what Y/n might do.

Y/n's chewing could be heard after some seconds before gulping followed.

"Not to worry," there, she saw it, that smile, that fucking smile that only meant one thing.

Throughout the time they've been friends, practically became soulmates, she knew Y/n had a variety of smiles that indicate different things.

A smile that meant Y/n was not okay.

A smile that meant Y/n's up to something.

A smile that meant Y/n's on their last bit of sanity.

A smile that meant Y/n found something interesting.

A smile that meant Y/n is in trouble.

There were many smiles belonging to Y/n where she knew what they suggest.

And this one... This smile meant only one thing...

"I happen to catch a glimpse of that asshole's ID and locker number, I'll be putting that skeleton key to good use. And I got a receipt at the same time the crime happened. But I won't stop at just proving my innocence. I happen to know how to retrieve deleted CCTV footages."

A smile that meant Y/n had won.

Bennett walks around the edge of Dragonspine in hopes to find any treasure in his ‘adventure’. It may be uneventful, but his optimistic self continued on his path determined that today may be different.

Of course, he wishes to go on adventures with his creator guiding him again. Adventures with the divine one spreading their warmth upon him has always been the best feeling he has experienced, thrilling adventures brightly shining on his path. But he understands that someone as mighty as his god can also have weeks where they’re busy. In fact, he is already grateful to be one of the lucky people graced with their god’s blessings and guidance. Bennett never once thought that he’d be one of the blessed vessels in his lifetime. As if all his bad luck was meant for this very good one.

So while he waits for their holiness to come back, he embarks on another adventure on his own.

It was getting dark, but the moon was kind enough to illuminate his path to the camp he had set up. As he walks along the trees, he notices something swirling in his chest. The same warmth he feels when his creator was visiting Teyvat. His lips formed a huge happy grin as he jumps excitedly around. He awaits for the dreamlike subconsciousness to seep through.

He waits…

And waits…

He stopped to raise his palms, he was still in control.

That is strange. By now, he should have started running around or scaling high mountains, visiting foreign lands, or even doing simple commissions for others. He puts one hand to his chest, and he takes note that the divine aura felt strange, different even. As if the aura itself was thin and feeble, yet, it was not unnoticeable that’s for sure. As if the aura was swaying along the cold eternal winter wind from the near mountain, unlike the warmth that usually resides within him.

As if the aura feels less like an ‘aura’.

He can’t quite put a finger on it yet, but the change in the usual sensation of being guided by his god was concerning. He was just about to leave when he notices something from afar, much deeper into Dragonspine. He squints his eyes at what seems to look like a leg. Was there a person behind that bush? Worried for someone’s well-being to be threatened by the harsh weather of Dragonspine, he immediately runs to it.

But upon arriving to assist the person, his eyes widened at the sight before him. Laid behind the bush was a figure he frequently see around Mondstadt’s church, little statues of them on altars in households around the city. A face that he sees in paintings and on some Bibles. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, not trusting his eyes as they could be playing tricks on him.

There stood before your unconscious body was Benny, eyes wide with only one thought running in his mind.

Is he actually looking at the Creator right now?

He snaps from his frozen demeanor when he realizes that he was supposed to help you. He can’t leave you laying here in the freezing cold. But Bennett was hesitant, not sure how to approach you. He shakes his head from the nervousness, ready to help regardless of what identity you may have.

He kneels beside you, taking note of the rising and falling of the backpack on top of your chest. You were breathing, which was always a good thing to him while he places his hand on your shoulder to gently shake you awake.

He hears you groan, making him sigh a bit in relief that you were not completely out of it. He backs away on reflex as the person he is currently helping gently pushes the foreign and weird-looking backpack to the side. You inhaled deeply, making Bennett realize that the bag must have been making it hard for you to breathe due to its weight.

“H-Hey! Are you alright!?”

He can see your eyes still hazy and unfocused, but the air in his lungs was stuck to his throat by the sensation he was feeling from your waking presence.

It was undeniable to him now.

No wonder the aura felt less like an ‘aura’. Because it no longer felt like an aura, it felt more like …a presence.

He is kneeling beside his god. They’re there, with him, in the flesh.

His god blinks a few times, e/c eyes that he reads about shine under the moonlight. Glimmering eyes that seem to be glaring angrily towards the sky. Bennett stops his staring to avoid being rude and checked your body for any injuries.

“…That’s some rad Benny cosplay.”

You spoke, and Bennett never felt so stunned to hear the same voice that whispers around him to be murmuring coherently in front of him. And their first words were about… cosplay?

You sat up, with his help of course, and you looked closely at him. He sweats while casting his eyes away from you, unnerved to be narrowly stared at by his god. You looked around and Benny can tell that you were confused.

“Okay, what the… This is not my friend’s garden. And I swear it was summer. Why am I seeing snow?” You said as you looked at him, seemingly looking for an explanation. Of course, he is also as lost as you. But he did manage to find his voice and answered.

“Oh, um, we’re in Dragonspine…?”

And your immediate response was to laugh. “And you sound like him too!! Hahahaha! Oh man, and I’m in Dragonspine? Pff! Funny man.”

Benny only smiled while trying to make sense of your words.

“Man, not only does your voice sound similar to Bennett, your costume is so on point! Like- look at the detail! The shop you buy from is literally doing justice for Mihoyo’s drip marketing.” You looked around again, becoming more concerned. “No seriously, where are we? I don’t see my friend or her mansion or the tree house I fell from.”

You turned to the boy who held a nervous and unsure look on his face. “And what’s your name, exactly?”

“You just said it, your grace…”

“… You’re Bennett?” E/c eyes wide as saucers stared back at his green ones.

“Yes. I am. Your grace.”

You stayed seated, ignoring the cold as you stared into his eyes, looking for any traces of a lie. You trust your instincts in evaluating a person, your survival skills were honed by your parents after all. But it was still so surreal. You? in Genshin? No fucking way.

No fucking way.

You're in Genshin.

You see a flaming flower stamen nearby, and a sweet flower. The familiar sky. Dragonspine from afar, HD and all.

No fucking hell.

"... I'm actually in Teyvat."

You were well aware this isn't a dream. Despite your ability to discern reality and dreams, you tried pinching just in case. Yup, you were in your game alright. And surprisingly... you're not actually losing your shit.

Surprised? Sure.

But you can blame it on your survival reflex behavior to be whelmed in an unbelievable situation. You could release your burst of excitement later, right now there was an important matter at hand.

It'd be nice to chill in Teyvat if only you knew how to get out. Yeah, you weren't just gonna decide to stay forever. Teyvat may be cool, filled with characters you simped for and adventure and magic you could only dream of!

But you have a life.

It may not be perfect, it had downs and failures, but you couldn't just abandon that.

You wanted to become an aerospace engineer! Be close to the stars! Further the studies of astronomy! Help humanity reach the furthest parts of the universe, however small your contribution is!

Animes! Shows! Fics! Games! There were so many on your lists that you haven't checked yet and some are still unfinished and waiting for updates!

And also there were some people you want to get back at too. There's no way you're going to hell without settling some scores. You promised that when you're successful enough, there wouldn't be any reasons for you to stay as a goody-two-shoes anymore. And you would have to show those who wronged you who's boss, directly or indirectly, depending on that person and how they slighted you.

So you can't stay. You want to go home.

"Um..." Let out Benny as you turned to him. He was unsure. Not the unsure of someone so strange suddenly showing up, no, you were not that dumb or oblivious. It was much more. As if he wasn't sure what to tell you, movements showing that he knows what to say but is unsure when is appropriate.

He knows something you don't.

He called you something earlier. Your Grace. Were you some kind of high-status person? Is this a reincarnation scenario? Where you wake up one day as royalty who turns out to be the villainess in a novel for someone's amusement while stuck in class?

Nope, you checked yourself, and still in the same state as you were before you and your friend were falling to the ground. Dang, you hope your friend was okay, it looks like you were the only one who got sent here, which was good in a way. You like your friend's company, but dragging her to a place where she could get plummetted by a wild boar? Yeah, your friend would not survive long enough.

So what's with the title? You seem to have some sort of identity already in Teyvat despite being here for the first time, at least with the memories that have served you so far.

Maybe you could ask right now. But you want to butter him up first, get him comfortable. Of course, you know what kind of person Benny is. But with the off chance that Benny would be different than what Hoyoverse has displayed, you want to play it safe. At least, complete the evaluation to be sure that Bennett is the same Bennett that you knew in the game.

"Hey... I'm also at a loss here. I don't know how I got here. But I do want to find a way back somehow. Do you think you know where I could get help?" You asked, smiling nicely.

"I-I-I-!" You notice that he looks so surprised, there was a linger of disappointment too. Interesting, he wants you to stay a bit longer?

"I w..." There was a pause, you noted, "I could show you to Acting Grandmaster Jean. She should know how to help you!" You smiled happily, showing him you were grateful for the help. He slightly gets flustered and says that he has something to warm you up in his bag as an excuse to hide his face.

As soon as he distracts himself finding the item that might have probably been dropped somewhere with his luck, seeing as he's frantically still looking for it, your smile dropped, and stared at him.

He seems to know you to some degree, but he did not explain further, only saying that you should meet Jean for help. He should have explained something, seeing that he held no suspicion on you when you knew his name, and with the title he used for you, there was something. You heard his hesitation before he suggested Jean. He looked like he wanted to say something else. Of course, you could tell that he doesn't have any ulterior motives, but more so that he chose a different action instead.

Is it out of caution? Was he trying to be careful?

You have no choice but to gauge that out of him later when you get him comfortable enough.

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End of chapter 2: Rhododendron

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#Yall I wonder if you guys ever thought about flower language lmao #genshin cult au #sagau villain au #sagau cult au #imposter sagau #SAGAU impostor AU #sagau #genshin

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raidtheradio · 10 months

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Hard Morning

Summary: You help Arthur through a particularly hard morning.

Notes: I just wanted to write something short and simple hehe, I have this other series I really gotta work on I posted like one chapter then disappeared for a month. Anyway, I haven't edited this since it's midnight and I'm high I might edit it later though who knows.

Read it on AO3!

Arthur Morgan is dying, his sickly dry heaving reminds you every day. ‘Black Lung’ Micah calls him. The cruel nickname creates a devastating image in your head when you hear him heave.

He struggles through daily life, he helps you girls with camp chores that are normally left to the women and Mr. Pearson. Karen is often too drunk to walk, and Abigail struggles worrying about her husband in prison. With two people out of condition, the workload had been overwhelming for you and your partners in crime. You tell Arthur every day not to worry, that he should just rest and focus on getting better. He never listens, he’s always up. Chopping wood, feeding horses, repairing travel-worn carriages. Between the scores that Dutch always assigns him to, he somehow manages to bring home dinner for the camp. It’s not always enough, but it keeps you and the gang going. You remember a time when you woke up before the rest of your little family. You were still in your undergarments, and working to restart the fire so you could make a large pot of coffee. That was when you heard the too familiar sound of dry heaving. Micah's nickname echoed in your head as you rushed to the source. Arthur was sitting on the log used to chop wood, the axe in his hand was forgotten and a half-chopped log was on its side in the grass. You weren’t good with people, quiet and reserved. Your flawed social skills became prominent when you saw your dear friend struggle with something as simple as breathing. You stood there and stared, slack-jawed. This man could survive on a can of beans for a whole day, you’ve seen him tear through drunken men with his bare knuckles. A whole tank reduced to a man. You could practically see his black lungs struggle to bring oxygen to his body. With every heave, you could hear the fluid filling his chest. You had no words for the dying man, so you placed your hand on his back. You began with light circular motions, not wanting to take his concentration away from breathing. When he finally began to stabilize you increased pressure. Your stomach was filled with cement, your brows upturned.

“I’m sorry.” He heaves, and your chest begins to hurt as well. He shouldn’t feel the need to hide his pain the way he does. He was always around to lend people a shoulder to cry on.

“Take your time friend.” You respond. He draws in air through his nose, and exhales through his mouth. He’d finally caught his breath, you pulled your hand away as he began to stand.

“That was bad.” Stupid, but you had nothing else to say.

“I’m ok, thank you.” He bends down to grab the axe and log. You grab his hand, he stops and looks at you.

“There’s no need Mr. Morgan, there's plenty of wood already.” You start to lead him, and like a poorly trained horse he hesitantly follows. You set him down on a nearby chair and he watches as you start the fire. You’ve done this many times before, being the early bird in the camp. You shove scraps of dead leaves and twigs in the center of the little tiipii and before you could even ask, Arthur holds his lighter out to you. You didn’t know how he managed to get his hands on such a nice one, gold with antler engravings, but you didn’t ask as he didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk. Soon the fire was blazing, and coffee was brewed. You settled yourself beside him and handed him his own cup. He took it, his large hands looking out of place as he grips the small handle. You take a sip and look out to the forest.

“Everythings just gone to shit.” Arthur is never really one to complain. Actually that’s a lie. You remember giggling many times when you’d catch him swearing under his breath over something stupid Sean did. Aw, Sean. You missed the poor bastard.

“You’re right.” You look him in the eye. He looked as if he’s aged ten years in the past two weeks. His once bright blue eyes faded, his mouth downturned into a heartbreaking frown. “But we have coffee, and this nice view.” You gesture to the woods around you both, and you thank God for his beautiful work. Even if his world is cruel, he sure knew how to landscape. Arthur doesn’t even chuckle, his mouth cemented into his frown. You take his hand and rub your thumb over his bruised knuckles. You have nothing else to say, and neither does he. He sips his coffee while the first sounds of life come from Dutch's tent. Well, let the day begin.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan x reader #angst #hurt/comfort

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parkerslatte · 1 year

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Songbird || SIX

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.8k

Part Summary: Billy comes back from rehab and Y/N and Eddie end up lonely at a party.

previous chapter / next chapter

Series Mastlist

Main Masterlist

•••

TRACK SIX;

SLEEPING WITH A FRIEND

…

Y/N L/N: When Billy went to rehab and the tour was cancelled, everyone else came home. And tensions were high.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y/N still wasn’t speaking to me, she wasn’t really speaking to anyone.

Y/N L/N: Around the time they came back, I was constantly at meetings with Teddy, I barely saw them in the first couple weeks.

…

“Was that one good?” Y/N asked.

Teddy chuckled, “The one before was perfect.”

Y/N smiled, “I just want it to be perfect.”

“And it already is,” Teddy says, “Want to have a listen?”

Y/N sat next to Teddy as she listened to her song back. Everything felt so surreal to her, she felt like she would wake up at any second and she had imagined all of it.

“It sounds great!” Y/N says, excitement coursing through her veins.

Teddy smiled at the girl’s excitement, knowing how much this meant to her.

“If everything goes well, you might be hearing it on the radio soon.” Teddy commented.

“Shut up!” Y/N says.

“No, I’m serious.” Teddy says.

…

TEDDY PRICE (1982, Merv Griffin Show): I’d never produced anyone like Y/N. She was always so easy going and easy to work with, she knew what she wanted and we worked with that. Her music had a unique sound, whenever a Y/N L/N song comes on the radio, you know it’s a Y/N L/N song.

…

As Y/N got home she was elated and nothing could put a damper on her mood. As soon as she stepped into the kitchen everyone could tell that Y/N had had a good day.

“How did the recording with Teddy go?” Graham asked.

“Fucking amazing!” Y/N exclaimed.

Soon enough, everyone went off to do their own thing but Karen approached Y/N wth a bottle of wine in her hand.

“We need to celebrate and catch up.” Karen says.

Y/N grinned

***

“I don’t know how I lived without you on tour,” Karen says, “I needed a break from the boys.”

Y/N laughed, taking a swig of the wine, “I don’t know how you did it either.”

“How’s Camila been?” Karen asked suddenly.

Y/N sighed, “She’s been okay, I know that everything has affected her but she’s not letting it show, all her focus has been on Julia.”

“She’s the sweetest kid I’ve ever seen.” Karen says.

“I know!” Y/N says, “When I have kids eventually, I definitely want a kid as cute as Julia or I don’t want a kid at all.”

Karen laughed, “Kids aren’t on by bucket list but I get what you mean.”

Music played softly throughout Y/N and Karen’s bedroom as they fell into silence, the bottle of wine being passed between the two. Ever since Camila gave birth to Julia, her focus had shifted to her daughter causing her to spend less time with Y/N. Of course Y/N still hung around with Camila and Julia, in fact Y/N could barely stay away. However, right now, Y/N was glad to spend some time with Karen.

The only issue was the days she would spend all day in the studio and come home late and Camila and Julia were asleep or when Y/N wasn’t doing anything, Camila was busy taking care of Julia. The two hadn’t had a chance to sit down and relax and talk about whatever like they used to.

As Karen took another sip of the wine, Eddie appeared in the doorway. Neither Y/N nor Karen noticed him at first as the two continued to laugh about something Karen had said.

“Y/N, can we talk?” Eddie asked, standing in the doorway.

Y/N sat up from her position and stared directly at Eddie, her smile faltering. Karen looked between the two of them and excused herself, not wanting to be caught in the tension, taking the wine with her.

Y/N sighed, “Eddie, there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Yes there is,” Eddie says, stepping into the room and closing the door, “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks.”

“I have not, I’ve been at work, recording.” Y/N says.

“And the days you aren’t? You spend most of your time with Camila and Julia or with Warren, Karen and Graham, you haven’t spoken to me since I got back.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to, has that crossed your mind?” Y/N questioned.

“Why?” Eddie asked, desperate for an answer.

“You know exactly why Eddie, I know that Camila has forgiven you and everyone else but I saw the way she was when we came back home, she was a mess Eddie,” Y/N says, “And the reason I am so angry with you specifically is because you lied to me when I asked if anything was going on outright and you love Camila and you still let her go through that pain. You don’t even like Billy! There was no reason for you to protect him.”

Eddie remained silent, he didn’t say anything.

“If you don’t have anything else to say Eddie, then please leave.” Y/N says.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Eddie apologises, stepping over to her and sitting down next to her, “I really am, I fucked up and I know I did. I should have told you, I should have told Camila and I regret not doing that.” Eddie paused, “To be honest I just miss talking to you, I miss listening to your songs and stupid lyrics when you can’t figure out the next line. I miss you Y/N and I want us to be okay again.”

Y/N turned to look at Eddie, she missed him as well but the anger she had was a stronger emotion.

“Please,” Eddie pleaded, looking deep into Y/N’s eyes, “I can’t stand it that you’re not talking to me.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, she had never seen Eddie look so desperate, “I will forgive you on one condition, never lie to me again.”

“I won’t, I promise you that.” Eddie says, quickly.

There was a moment of silence before Y/N gave Eddie a small smile, “I forgive you, but you better hold up your side of the promise Roundtree.”

All Eddie did in response was pull Y/N forward and wrapped his arms around her, both of them falling back onto the bed, a comfortable silence between them.

***

A few weeks later, Billy was set to return home and Y/N didn’t know how to feel about it, all she knew was that she needed to remain civil. As Y/N sat at the kitchen table, a book open in front of her while she ate her breakfast in a peaceful silence.

Footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, interrupting Y/N from her book. Looking up she made eye contact with Billy. She didn’t smile.

“Y/N,” Billy says in a greeting, “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Y/N answered, closing her book.

“Congratulations on the recording by the way,” Billy says, avoiding eye contact, “Graham told me about it

“Thank you.” Y/N says.

Billy gave Y/N a tight lipped smile before walking away, leaving her on her own once again.

…

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: The label dropped up a week after the tour was cancelled.

WARREN ROJAS: They made us pay back our advance and everything.

GRAHAM DUNNE: I kept us practising as much as I could and got a job at a bodyshop.

WARREN ROJAS: Yeah, I was working down at Malibu Harbor cleaning boats, which I loved, and, uh, and doing a lot of mushrooms, which I also loved,

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Basically we were back where we started, worse even.

INTERVIEWER: Are you still upset about it?

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Me? Nah. I mean holding onto that shit will be the death of you. But he really fucked us over.

Y/N L/N: With everyone out of the house working, I had a lot more space and time to work on my own music. The living room was empty almost all the time so I designated that room my writing room. [laughs] I’m not sure everyone appreciated all the balls of paper thrown everywhere though.

…

“Who the fuck do you think you are man?” Eddie spat.

Y/N rubbed her brow, looking around the group. Billy standing up in front of the band saying that he was done, Eddie was pissed off, meanwhile Karen, Graham and Warren all tried to diffuse the situation. Y/N watched from the sidelines, not wanting to be involved but somehow the argument started while she was in the middle of writing.

“Look, everybody just calm down, okay?” Graham says.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I can’t be the only one who’s pissed here.” Eddie says.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say, you guys don’t even need me. You have the songs, you got the fan base. I mean, I’m sure if you just-”

“Billy!” Eddie shouted, “If you’re going, go.”

Billy paused for a moment before nodding and walking out of the room, leaving everyone in silence.

“So now what do we do?” Warren asked.

…

KAREN SIRKO: I mean bands fall apart, that’s rock’n’roll. I just…thought this one was different.

…

Everyone dispersed one by one, leaving just Y/N and Eddie in the room.

“Hey,” Y/N says, catching the attention of Eddie, “Everything will work out.”

Eddie looked at Y/N and the look on her face made him believe it.

***

Sighing, Y/N dropped down in a seat next to Warren, immediately ordering another drink.

“Back so soon?” Warren questioned.

“He was so unbelievably sexist it should have been a joke,” Y/N says, taking a large swig of her drink, “First he wouldn’t stop talking about himself leaving me standing there with a fake smile plastered across my face, then when I finally managed to talk about myself and what I do he stated that women are not cut out to be in the music industry and that I should just become a housewife. Fucking dickhead,” Finishing off her drink and immediately ordering another Y/N sighed, “Where are all the good men around here?

“You’re sitting next to one.” Warren says, leaning closer to Y/N.

Y/N chuckled, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Sorry, Warren but the answer is still no.”

“Ah, worth a shot.” Warren says, leaning back in his seat.

“What about him over there?” Warren questioned.

Y/N followed his gaze, “Nah, you can just tell that he’s boring, I mean he’s standing there like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He looks like my old math teacher.”

“You are picky,” Warren joked, “Remember if you just wanna get laid, I’m right here.”

“Keep dreaming,” Y/N says, her eyes scanning over the crowd once again, “He looks nice.”

Warren followed her gaze, “Him? Really? I thought you had standards.”

Y/N scoffed, “I do have standards and he’s quite attractive.

Y/N and Warren continued to watch the man from afar. Just as Y/N stood to go and talk to him his hand raised to his nose as he began to pick it.

“Maybe not,” Y/N says, sitting back down, “Why are men so gross?”

Looking around once more Warren scanned over the crowd, “By the pool? The guy and the girl.”

“They both look too into each other to give me the time of day.” Y/N says.

Taking another sip from her drink, Y/N noticed a girl standing not too far away, eyes set on Warren. Once she notices that Y/N had seen her, she averted her gaze.

“There’s a girl staring at you,” Y/N says.

“Where?” Warren asked, looking around.

Y/N hit his arm, “Don’t make it too obvious.”

“Okay, but where?” Warren questioned.

“Turn around and you can’t miss her, she’s making serious heart eyes at you.” Y/N remarked.

“Wish me luck.” Warren says, standing to his feet.

“You’re the one who doesn’t need luck in this situation.” Y/N says.

Warren blew her a kiss before walking over to the girl. The girl made eye contact with Y/N for a brief moment and Y/N sent the girl a wink before turning away.

Y/N sat alone at the bar from across the room she could see Karen and Graham talking, Graham with a lovestruck expression on his face, causing Y/N to chuckle to herself. She could see Eddie standing not too far away with a girl.

As Y/N looked at Eddie, he looked up making eye contact with her, he sent her a smile, completely ignoring what the girl was saying to him. This caused the girl to scoff and turn around to look at what had caught Eddie’s attention. Once the girl noticed Y/N she scoffed before walking away from Eddie.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh when she walked away, mainly because of the confused expression on his face as he walked up to Y/N.

“You might want to go after her,” Y/N commented, “Some girls don’t like it when you smile at other girls from across the room.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t going anywhere anyways.” Eddie says, sitting next to Y/N.

“That makes two of us.” Y/N says, “Every guy I’ve spoken to has been sexist, completely self obsessed or just a dickhead. I’m only looking for sex but I want to at least have some pleasure and none of the guys here are willing to give it.”

“You’ll find someone.” Eddie says.

“You want a drink?”

Many drinks later Y/N and Eddie sat together in a more concealed area of the party, both quite drunk. Eddie’s arm was wrapped around Y/N’s waist as he held her against him.

“You’ll hear my voice on the radio soon.” Y/N says, her head resting on Eddie’s chest.

“I better,” Eddie says, “I want to hear your voice everywhere I go.”

“Won’t you find that annoying?” Y/N questioned, “I get tired of hearing my own voice sometimes.”

“I could never get tired of your voice, it’s just so…nice,” Eddie says, “I bet your ex-boyfriend was a lucky person.”

Y/N snorted, “Ex-boyfriend? Never had one.”

“You’ve never been in a relationship?” Eddie questioned, his words slurred.

“No,” Y/N laughed, “No man is worth my time in a relationship, all they care about is themselves. Besides, no man has ever wanted to be in a relationship with me.”

“I find it hard to believe that no one has ever wanted to be in a relationship with you.” Eddie says, having a sip of his drink.

“Why?” Y/N asked, looking up at Eddie.

“Because you're beautiful, who wouldn’t want to be with you?” Eddie says, brushing a strand of hair out Y/N’s face.

Y/N smiled lazily, “Beautiful is a strong word.”

“No, I mean it.” Eddie says, his hand resting on her jaw.

“Well you’re not too bad yourself Eddie.” Y/N mumbled.

Eddie’s hand continued to caress Y/N’s face as he slowly inched his face closer to hers, his breath fanning her face. Y/N gripped onto the front of Eddie’s shirt, her eyes falling to his lips, Eddie watched her movements closely. Pulling him closer by his shirt, Y/N captured Eddie’s lips with her own, acting on an impulse.

The grip Eddie had on Y/N’s waist tightened as he pulled her body to his. His other hand tangled in her hair. Y/N’s body was on fire, she couldn’t tell if it was because of the kiss or the alcohol in her system.

Pulling away, Y/N mumbled something to Eddie, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.” Eddie says breathlessly.

Y/N pulled Eddie back to her, kissing him passionately. Throwing her leg over his lap, she straddled him, while wrapping her arms around his neck. Eddie gripped her hips tightly, as Y/N began to move her hips on top of him. Everything in Y/N’s brain was telling her to stop but her body was doing the complete opposite. She was desperate.

Their kiss was hungry and desperate, they kissed like the other would disappear at any second. Slowly, Eddie’s hand’s roamed under Y/N’s shirt, touching her bare skin. The touch set her skin on fire, goosebumps formed in his touch’s wake. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, messing it up.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this.” Eddie mumbled against her lips.

“I know.”

Y/N moved her hips once again, causing Eddie to let out a quiet moan. Y/N smirked against his lips.

“Let’s find a room.”

…

Y/N L/N: [smiles]

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: [smiles]

________________

#eddie roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie loving x reader #eddie loving #daisy jones and the six x reader #daisy jones and the six #josh whitehouse

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ziorite · 22 days

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me finishing season 1 of 911 and watching everyone’s arcs conclude in a satisfying if not completely final way:

idk do people warn for spoilers six years after the show came out ??? adding the break anyways in case someone’s also watching for the first time and also because it’s a long post whoopsies

I KNOW I KNOW ABBY AND BUCK DON’T END UP TOGETHER but they’re so sweet to each other… and he’s grown so much in their relationship and it’s so healthy… god i’m so invested in this rehabilitated fuckboy :’)))

and karen coming back to live with hen ???? ooooh girl ik she fucked up HARD but i was crying cheering punching the air for her this whole damn season that is MY comfort lesbian character !!!

now bobby and athena i wish i could say didn’t see coming but unfortunately i hopped on the wiki to look up someone’s last name and was immediately spoiled for shit. HOWEVER i will not let that distract me from angela basset’s back muscles dear GOD. bobby better treat her right because that dress had me on the FLOOR.

chimney might take the position of second favorite character purely because of how fucking funny he is. plus between the dating life and the fucking metal rod through the school the man just can’t seem to catch a break. but he’s still rolling with the punches and being such a support for everyone else and i DESPERATELY need the show to go deeper into his character and background !! someone appreciate this national treasure !!! (plus the fact that rebar is apparently an accepted nickname had me crying laughing for a solid two minutes— the way buck launched up those stairs and started in on him with absolutely NO hesitation ??? and chimney didn’t even question it ??? DONE.)

in conclusion i will be devouring the rest of this series with a furious appetite and having a lot of feelings about it. a lot. patricia’s death caught me by surprise and boy did it have me teary. kudos to the showrunners but also they owe me tissues.

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coneyislandbabey · 11 months

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one; a study in lake water and forest princesses. -> w.rojas

WARNINGS: None for this chapter!

SYNOPSIS: This is chapter one of the Camp Wawayanda Lake Series! (read the prologue here!) It's the first day of camp and Billy does something stupid that sets Daisy on a summer-long path toward revenge. word count: 3,620

NOTES: I'm super psyched that you guys loved the prologue! I hope this one lives up to your expectations <3 check out the official series playlist on spotify!

Dawn was barely breaking over camp when you awoke. Stretching, you observed your cabin mates in the gray morning light: Daisy in the bed next to you, sprawled on her stomach, her red hair a chaotic mess all around her; Simone on the other side of her, pink satin bonnet secured over her hair, ancient quilt tucked right up around her chin; across the room Karen, her sheets and blankets shoved to the floor in the night, laying flat on her back with her head hanging almost over the edge, messy blonde hair brushing the wooden floor; and Camila, curled in the fetal position and almost tucked entirely beneath her sheet, only the top of her dark head of hair visible. You couldn’t help but grin as you looked around at the four of them. There was no better feeling in the world than waking up back at camp, surrounded by your favorite people. Waking up even earlier than you had to for school didn’t even feel bad when it was at Wawayanda Lake.

Slowly, you pulled yourself onto your feet and made your bed, laughing to yourself over the fact that none of your movement or noise made anyone else wake up. All of your girls were such heavy sleepers. Just then, you knew the kitchen crew was finishing breakfast, setting it out on the long buffet tables for the kids and staff. You were close friends with a lot of the kitchen boys– Mario and Pat and Benny especially, all boys whose mothers were friends with Rod and had been coming to camp with you practically since birth– and the thought of them getting breakfast ready already had you excited to get back to your usual nightly poker games with them and the girls.

You change into a loose powder blue t-shirt and a pair of orange athletic shorts, sitting on the edge of your bed to tie your laces before heading to the cabin’s tiny bathroom– nothing more than a toilet and a sink with a rusted mirror above it, as the showers had a cabin of their own– to brush your teeth and fix your hair for the day. As you do so, you hear the others begin to stir in the other room, and by the time you emerge, Camila and Simone are up with their beds made, getting ready for the day.

“How on Earth are you always up so damn early?” Simone grumbled as she caught sight of you coming out of the bathroom, chipper and ready to get started on the first day of camp. She was sitting on her made bed, her clothes for the day on her lap, though she made no move to actually get dressed.

You laughed, shaking your head at the grumpy way her eyebrows drew together. “Some of us can function as morning people, Mone.”

“I can’t believe you ever became a counselor in the first place,” Camila piped up from the other side of the room with a laugh. “It’s, like, a mix of so many things you hate. Getting up early, the outdoors, the heat, being surrounded by so many children.”

Simone rolled her eyes as Camila ticked off the reasons on her fingers. “Something about you people charmed me, but I honestly can’t remember what now.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that,” you dismissed, wrapping your arms around Simone’s shoulders. “We’re your irresistibly favorite people.” Simone only grunted in response, finally standing and making a move to get dressed as you released her shoulders.

“I’ll see you guys at breakfast, I’m gonna go visit Rod and Teddy first,” you said, opening the screen door and letting yourself out into the cool morning air. It was slightly foggy, though you could see the sun doing its damndest to break through and knew it would be blistering by noon.

Teddy and Rod had a cabin up near the administrative buildings, a few minutes’ walk away from the counselor and camper cabins. It was one of the oldest structures on the property, an honest-to-god logger’s cabin that had been built sometime in the 1890s, a beautiful, cozy little place that you had spent as much time as possible in as a kid. It was about sixty years later that the rest of the camp began to spring up around it.

You knew Uncle Rod would still be asleep when you got there– he’d always been terrible at waking up before eleven at the earliest, but Teddy was just as much of an early bird as you. Stepping up to the front porch, you caught sight of him through the window, sitting in one of the big armchairs in the living room with a cup of coffee and a book. You rapped your knuckles lightly against the glass, sending him a wave when he looked up. Smiling, he came over to open the door for you.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he greeted, moving aside to allow you in.

“Morning, Teddy,” you grinned, dropping into the chair opposite his. “So, first day. How are you feeling about this season?”

“Tired just thinkin’ about it,” he chuckled. “The kids seem good, though. Our regulars are back, and the new kids don’t seem like they’ll be trouble.”

“Thankfully,” you agreed. “I’m just glad that little menace, Danny Kowalski, from last year didn’t come back.”

“I told his mother our price was raised by seventy-five dollars just to get her not to send him back,” Teddy told you seriously, and you bursted into laughter.

“Genius,” you said as you calmed down.

“How are you feeling about this season?”

“Oh, relieved to be back,” you told him. “This is my place, you know? All of my favorite people are here, and I love looking after the kids. I couldn’t wait to get back.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever know what it means to your uncle that you love it here so much,” Teddy told you, the smile on his face soft and fond.

“Well, I don’t think he’ll ever know how much it means to me that he keeps inviting me back,” you responded earnestly. Teddy reached out and dropped his large hand over yours, patting it a few times.

“You better get goin’ to breakfast before you miss all the good stuff,” Teddy told you and you laughed, standing from your seat.

“See you later, tell Uncle Rod I dropped in,” you said with a wave as you exited back out onto the dirt path. The sun had broken through the morning mist a little more, cascading in golden beams through the trees. By now, the wake up call had gone out through the camp, and everyone was in varying states of consciousness, getting ready for the day and making their way to breakfast. You passed gaggles of little campers in matching Wawayanda Lake ringer tees, the white fabric standing against the dark green letters and collar and their already tanned skin.

All of your friends were at your usual table as you entered the mess hall, raucous conversation emanating from your little corner. You laughed to yourself when you saw that Daisy was leaning her head against the wall, seemingly asleep again. If Simone was bad with mornings, Daisy was awful with them. You made your plate and joined them, easily falling into the conversation they were already in the middle of. That was something you loved so dearly about these friends, this place; you felt that you belonged in every way and with every person. Not once had you ever felt alone or isolated here, and you knew that you never would.

After breakfast, you stopped in the break room of the mess hall with everyone else to see what your assignments for the day were. You each had two daily, one assignment for the morning, and one for the afternoon, after lunch. Finding the row with your name, you almost laughed out loud. You and Daisy were assigned to lead the morning hike. Should be fun, seeing how Daisy is still barely awake. You watched as Daisy, eyelids still drooping, found her assignment and groaned, collapsing into the desk chair behind her.

“Hey, maybe the hike will help wake you up,” you said to Daisy, clapping her on the shoulder with a shit-eating grin.

“Easy for you to say, you’ve got the arts and crafts cabin this afternoon,” Daisy grumbled. “I have to teach stupid tennis after traipsing through the woods.”

“Oh, come on, Hazy, lace up your sneakers,” you said, amused. A few minutes later the two of you were standing at the head of the blue trail with a group of twenty campers, chatting eagerly with one another and amped up on a school year’s worth of pent up energy.

Blue trail went about a third of the way around the edge of the large lake, emptying out at the docks before pivoting and returning back to the main camp deeper through the woods. It took about two hours to complete, leaving you all time to freshen up a bit before lunch and the afternoon activities. You loved leading the hike. You knew all the trails by heart; hell, you could find your way back to camp without any trail in the dark at this point, probably. You knew a lot about the local flora and fauna and loved to point out what you saw on the hike, watching the kids’ mesmerized faces as they trailed a pair of blue jays through the sky, or caught a glimpse of a deer through a copse of trees.

Daisy, on the other hand, absolutely hated it. Leading the hike was probably her least favorite activity at camp, and Rod was probably being a little shit by assigning it to her on the very first day. Luckily, yours and the kids' excitement was eclipsing Daisy’s already stormy mood.

“Alright, campers,” you announced, and suddenly twenty pairs of eyes were on you. “I have a prize for whoever can spot and correctly identify five different birds on our hike. How ‘bout we get this show on the road?”

With a cheer the kids surged forward and you grinned, leading the way into the mouth of the trail. You breathed in the thick scent of pine, relishing in the warmth of the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches. You kept a list in your little field notes book of who had identified which bird, and led a few call and response songs that you knew off the top of your head from your Girl Scouts days, laughing as the kids screamed them back at you at the top of their lungs. Daisy trudged behind, bringing up the rear, slowly but surely waking up, her mood brightening by degrees. Even she was not impervious to the happiness that sunlight brings.

Sooner than you expected, the path widened until it emptied into the small, sandy area that constituted a beach in front of the lake. The dock lay beyond it, a few rowboats tethered to one side and a group of campers splashing around in the designated swim area on the other side. You grinned as you caught sight of Warren standing at the edge of the dock in a white t-shirt and red lifeguard board shorts, bent over with his hands on his knees so that he could talk to two kids in the water. Billy, the other counselor assigned to morning lake duty, was taking his shirt off and threatening to get in the water after a few kids who weren’t following the rules.

“Okay, guys! We’re at the halfway point, so how about we take a little break?” you said, turning around to face your small group. “Why don’t you all sit at the picnic tables and eat the snacks you brought.”

At your words, the kids flew off in the direction of the clump of picnic tables, taking water bottles and granola bars out of their drawstring bags. Daisy came to stand next to you, and for the first time that morning, she had a smile on her face.

“Not so bad, huh, Hazy?” you asked, nudging her in the ribs when she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t push it, babe,” she warned you, and you threw your hands up in mock surrender.

“C’mon, let’s go say hello to the boys,” you said, linking your arm through hers and dragging her towards the dock. Billy noticed the pair of you first, and stopped threatening the kids in the water long enough to come over to you.

“Hey, how’s the hike?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Terrible. As usual,” Daisy said, and Billy rolled his eyes, smirking at her usual antics.

“Oh, don’t listen to her,” you said, unlinking your arm from Daisy’s so that you could dig a few granola bars out of your own bag. Wordlessly, you passed one to the redhead. “The rest of us are having a great time.”

Just as you were about to open your granola bar, someone slammed into your side full force. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist, steadying you so that you wouldn’t fall on your ass. Turning your head, you came nose to nose with Warren’s grinning face.

“Hey, cariño, what are you doing out here?” Even after you were steadied, Warren’s arms stayed linked securely around your waist. Unconsciously, you felt yourself slightly leaning into the warmth of him, the clean cotton smell of his shirt and the coconut scent of his sunscreen.

“Hiking,” you told him, gesturing to shore, where your group was sitting. “Taking our halfway point break.”

“Well, aren’t I lucky that I was scheduled out here today, then,” he said cheekily, and you rolled your eyes, playfully pushing him away. “Did you see we’re working the arts and crafts cabin together later?”

“Yup,” you nodded, “looks like you’re double lucky today.”

“Looks like,” Warren agreed.

You hadn’t noticed that Daisy and Billy had moved down the dock during your conversation until Daisy started shouting. Whipping around, you spotted the pair of them on the other end of the dock. She seemed to be reprimanding him, and based on the shit-eating grin on his face, he was not absorbing a single thing she said. He made a move to poke her in the ribs, and as she jerked away from that, attempted to grab the granola bar out of her hand. As she tried to dodge him, she lost her footing.

“Oh fuck,” you breathed, being able to see the disaster about to unfold, but unable to do anything to stop it.

Daisy’s arms pinwheeled in the air, her light eyes going wide. The heel of her sneaker had gotten caught between two slats of wood, halting her movement and making her completely lose her balance. Billy was too caught up in screwing around to notice in time to help, and before anyone else could move, Daisy fell backward into the lake with a loud splash.

“Shit. Daisy!” Billy shouted, kneeling down and holding on the dock with one hand, reaching down to try to grab the redhead and pull her out with the other. In seconds, he had a grip on her forearm, and blithely pulled her out of the water, helping her climb back onto the dock.

Despite her dousing, Daisy’s whole face was bright red, made to look all the brighter by the fiery hair plastered to her face. You could practically see the steam coming out of her ears.

“This is not good,” Warren muttered beside you, and you shook your head in agreement. It was like watching a car crash: horrible, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“You better watch yourself, Dunne,” Daisy said, her voice dangerously low as she jabbed her pointer finger into his chest. “Because I will be getting payback.”

Without another word, Daisy turned on her heel and trudged off the dock towards your group. She shouted something at them and started down the trail without checking to see if you or the children were following her.

“Okay, I’ll see you later,” you told Warren, pulling him into a quick hug before running down the dock. You offered a quick wave to Billy, stifling a laugh at the expression of horror adorning his face.

“Break time over, guys! Let’s go catch up with Daisy,” you called, harried, to the kids, who were doing their best to pack their snacks up and get back to the trail. You brought up the rear for the rest of the hike, keeping a worried eye on Daisy’s distant wet head.

Daisy disappeared into your cabin during the break, and you filled in the rest of the girls on the morning’s events over lunch. Everyone was in agreement that Daisy was about to go nuclear, and nothing good could possibly come from it. Knowing Daisy meant knowing that there was absolutely no way to predict how she would react to anything, and you were all waiting with baited breath to see what form her payback would come in for this incident.

You all parted at the end of lunch uneasily, heading into the afternoon with a wariness, keeping on high alert to see if Daisy would try to get her revenge immediately. However, as you walked past the tennis courts to get to the arts and crafts cabin, you saw Daisy standing near the fence, wearing a new, dry outfit and with her still-damp hair tied up in a ponytail. She sure as hell didn’t look happy, but she also didn’t look like she was about to find and kill Billy Dunne in the immediate future, either. That was the best you could hope for.

You were a few minutes late to afternoon activities after taking the long way past the tennis courts, and when you arrived, Warren already had all the kids started on their art: macaroni necklaces for the little ones, string friendship bracelets for the older ones. Warren was sitting in one of the tiny plastic kid chairs, his knees practically up to his chest as he helped a little redheaded boy string macaroni onto some thread. Smiling, you grabbed a chair from a stack against the wall and sat across from him.

“Oh, look who finally showed up to her post,” Warren said by way of greeting.

“I decided to take pity on you and not leave you alone in a room full of children and gallons of glitter,” you responded, your voice as full of sarcastic faux-cheer as his. He rolled his eyes, handing the redheaded boy his necklace once he was done helping him.

“So…” Warren started, glancing around the table to make sure all the kids were too busy with their projects to really be listening to your conversation. “This morning was interesting, huh?”

“That’s one word for it, for sure.”

“What do you think Daisy means by ‘payback’?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Rojas,” you said honestly. “But whatever she settles on, it’s not gonna be pretty.”

Warren laughed in agreement. “I feel sorry for Billy.”

“Eh, he’s got it coming,” you shrugged. “The two of them rib each other all summer every year. I can’t believe it took this long to escalate, honestly.”

“Maybe if Daisy kicks his a–” Warren started, cutting himself off abruptly when he remembered he was surrounded by impressionable elementary schoolers. “His you know what, they’ll act normal next summer.”

“Now that is some wishful thinking– I don’t think either of them are capable of acting normal.”

As you spoke, you absentmindedly strung pieces of macaroni and chunky wooden beads onto a strand of summery orange thread. When you finished, you triumphantly tied it and slung it around your neck, showing it off to the table in a way that made all the kids giggle.

“And Miss (y/n),” a tiny, curly-haired boy to your left started. “You’re pretty! Right, Mr. Warren?”

“Oh, certainly,” Warren agreed, nodding his head in a theatrical manner. “She’s so pretty because she’s the forest princess of Wawayanda Lake.” The little boy turned to look at you with shocked, saucer eyes, and you stifled a laugh.

“Well, thank you boys,” you said, smiling gently at them.

The rest of the afternoon flew by in the blink of an eye, you and Warren passing most of the time catching up on what happened over the school year and occasionally helping kids finish their projects. At dinner, all nine of you sat together, though Daisy pointedly sat all the way on the other end of the table from Billy, eating quickly and leaving the mess hall early.

She wasn’t at the cabin when you all got back after your showers, and the rest of you tried to go about your night as normal, pretending the thought of Daisy out there somewhere on the campgrounds plotting revenge wasn’t unsettling.

You sat on the front steps of your cabin with Karen, Camila, and Simone, wearing a giant Philadelphia Eagles t-shirt that you stole from Warren last summer, your hair swept up in your towel, a contraband cigarette dangling from your lips. Karen was on the step below you, her hair up in big pink rollers as she shuffled a deck of cards for a quick game of poker before you all got ready for bed. Just as she was about to deal, Daisy rounded the side of the cabin, making her way over to you with a scary look of determination on her face.

There was a devilish gleam in her eye when she opened her mouth.

“I know how we’re getting Billy back.”

tag list: @iwantloveletterss @boredshit-shadow @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @lilyhw1 @graziellasnotes @nicostars @robinismywife @xxxlaura @hella-sirius @everyonesannoyedwithme

#daisy jones and the six #djats #warren rojas #warren rojas x reader #warren rhodes #warren rhodes x reader #daisy jones #billy dunne #eddie roundtree #eddie loving #karen sirko #karen karen #simone jackson #camila dunne #graham dunne

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harringroveera · 6 months

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AU where Mike finds out about what Karen did in the summer of ‘85

#billy hargrove #mike wheeler #tw karen wheeler #el hopper #the scene is too iconic not to turn it into this #incorrect billy hargrove quotes #incorrect mike wheeler quotes #billy & mike #if they were friends #billy antis dni #harringroveera #billy hargrove text post #billy hargrove edit #billy hargrove headcanon #billy hargrove au #jane hopper #jane el hopper #karen being caught series

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archiveikemen · 11 months

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Liam Evans Main Story: Chapter 24 (Blind Love)

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by playing their games and buying stories. Not 100% accurate, expect mistakes.

read this before interacting with my posts

Liam caught the arm that was slowly losing the strength to raise his fist.

Liam: … There’s a secret I’ve been keeping from you for a very long time.

As they faced each other, Liam’s eyes that had never once shaken, trembled and he looked lost.

It was like he was trying to open a pandora’s box that had been sealed for a long time.

(... Liam?)

Liam: I…

Liam: I’m not your biological son.

(...!)

Max: W-What nonsense. There is no way—!

Liam: Mother was pregnant with me before she married you. My face looks exactly like my biological father’s.

Liam told the story of his birth.

His mother, Karen, was once deeply in love with a man.

However, he left her without as much as a second thought.

— It was only after she had been abandoned, she found out that she was pregnant with his child.

She then married Max while keeping her pregnancy a secret, and gave birth to Liam as his son.

Max: … Then why did Karen treat you as if you were non-existent?

Liam: Because my face reminded her of the man she once loved.

(So that means Liam and Max are unrelated?)

Removing the part about them being “blood related”, what was left was only their tragic past.

(In that case…)

Max: Then why did you willingly accept the abuse from someone unrelated to you by blood…!

(Abuse…)

A parent that had been disguising his deeds as “education” was so furious that he admitted that he was abusive.

Seeing his weak and selfish behaviour caused a dark feeling of rage to build up inside me at the pit of my stomach.

And yet, it was not my place to yell at or hit him.

(Because Liam isn’t angry at him.)

Liam was neither angry nor sad — he let out a laugh.

Liam: It was because… as a child, I loved you.

Liam: And I wanted someone… no, I wanted you to love me.

Liam allowed himself to be abused, simply because he wanted Max to love him. He smiled.

Hidden behind that smile was a painful past that could never be erased.

Max: I…

Max: Where… where on earth did I go wrong…?

Max: What mistakes did I make… what did I lack? What, what…?!

Max approached Liam in a state of panic, resembling a child throwing a tantrum.

And as if something snapped in him, he suddenly fell silent.

(...?)

His face was completely void of any emotions, willpower, and humanity.

Max: … Kill me.

Max: … I want you to kill me.

(... What?)

(...)

(What did he just say?)

Max: … I… I no longer have any reason to resent you. I no longer have a reason to stay alive.

I couldn't believe what I had heard.

(Is he asking Liam to kill him?)

(After all the pain and suffering he has caused him, now…)

My anger grew unbearable, my body was trembling with rage.

Kate: … You… are you trying to add on to Liam’s burdens…?

Liam: … Kate.

Kate: It’s true that Liam broke the form of your family. It’s also true that he killed people.

Kate: But what sins did Liam, as a newborn child, commit…?

(You’re not the only one.)

– Flashback Start –

Marie: … Why did he have to die and you’re still alive?

Marie: If it wasn’t for you back then, everything… everything would’ve been…!

…

(That person too.)

Liam: … That means, it’s my fault this happened to Kate?

Young Man with Piercings: Yes, that’s right. All of this, everything, is your fault. If it weren't for you…!

…

(Many, many, many other people too.)

— You are a sinner. Admit to your sins and wish for your own demise.

– Flashback End –

Liam: … Thank you for getting upset on my behalf, Kate. But it’s fine.

Kate: No, it’s not! I don’t want the guilt and burden you're carrying to get any bigger.

My eyes met with his rose coloured eyes.

The moment our eyes met, that was when it hit me.

(... Oh, I see it now.)

(Liam knew from the very beginning that something like this would happen.)

Max being deceived by a ruffian, his non-biological son telling him the truth, and choosing death in the end.

And the one to punish him for his sins was — himself.

Liam: But still, someone has to do this. That someone will be me.

— I wanted to stop Liam from killing his family member.

My heart was screaming at me to go stop him, but I knew that I didn't have the right to.

(This is a decision Liam made for himself.)

Liam took one of the daggers hanging from his belt and unsheathed it.

Even with the dagger pointing at his chest, Max didn’t flinch. He merely kept on starting emotionlessly at Liam.

(I can’t bring myself to watch. But…)

(I can’t look away.)

Liam: Father.

Max: …

Liam called out to him affectionately, like they had returned to their past.

Liam: Although we’re not biologically father and son, we’re still very alike.

Liam: We both chased after love that we never obtained…

Liam: It’s truly… miserable, stupid, and pitiful, don't you think?

Max: …

Liam forced a smile and took a deep breath.

Liam: — Goodbye, Father. Rest in peace.

He thrust the dagger right into Max’s heart.

Max instantly stopped breathing.

Liam was soaked by the dark red blood gushing out of the stab wound.

(...)

(Why?)

(Why is this world so cruel to Liam?)

For the rest of his life, he would be haunted by the painful memories of his past and this very moment.

(... There’s nothing I can do for him.)

There was no way I could get rid of his sorrows once and for all.

I couldn't erase his past that made him wish he were dead.

(But still…)

— I wanted to share his pain.

— I wanted to share the burden of his sins.

As I was on the verge of tears, a pitch darkness rose inside of me from my feet up.

That darkness spoke to me.

— You still have the chance to return to your original life, it’d be as if none of this ever happened.

— If you stay by this man’s side any longer, your hands will be stained as well.

(Stain my hands…?)

Liam sat on the floor in silence, stunned by the sight of his bloodied hands.

He was hurting alone, bearing the weight of his sin.

(... I know now. I know what I can do for him.)

My legs trembled as I walked towards Liam.

The darkness fully consumed me.

(I’m scared. I feel as if I’m losing myself.)

(But I can’t leave him alone.)

I approached Max, who laid bleeding out on the floor. I wrapped my hands around the dagger in his chest.

(...)

With trembling hands, I thrust the dagger deeper into his heart.

Liam: … Kate…?

Liam: … What are you doing?!

Ignoring his attempts to stop me, I thrust the dagger even deeper.

My hands were dyed the same colour as Liam’s.

Liam: Ah… ah…

Liam kept wiping my hands with his shirt, trying to clean the blood off them.

Liam: Kate… you did nothing wrong. I’m the evil one. I’m the one who did something wrong.

Liam: … You're not evil.

Liam: I don’t want you to dirty your hands. Therefore, therefore…

I wrapped my bloodied hands around his.

Liam: … Kate?

Kate: I have a part to play in this. Please allow me to share the burden of this sin.

Liam: … Wh… why?

Liam: Why?!

Kate: Because I don’t want to leave you alone. Can you forgive me for being selfish?

Liam: …

Liam: — Just how far are you willing to go for me?

We stayed still, holding each other's bloodied hands.

Silence, like a calm sea, hung between us.

Liam sighed, as if he had accepted my actions.

Liam: … Listen.

Liam: When I hurt others and myself, it’s because we’re human.

Liam: People fail, hurt others, get hurt, and then the cycle repeats. And yet, they still foolishly cling onto those who've caused them sufferings.

Liam: I wanted to die, but not alone. I wanted to be with someone, anyone… I wanted to be loved, even just a little.

Liam: But I eventually grew sick and tired of that way of life. It felt as if my life was slowly draining away.

Liam: Therefore, on the night I wanted to jump to my death, I thought to myself…

Liam: “Ahh, I can finally put an end to this”.

Liam: No more drowning in despair, no more begging to be loved. Everything, everything would end right there.

Liam: So I closed my eyes and spread my arms wide open, letting myself fall into the darkness of the night.

Liam blinked, and a single teardrop rolled down his cheek like the first snow on a silent night.

Liam: And the next moment, when I opened my eyes— there you were.

Kate: …

Liam: Why… why were you still right there before my eyes?

Liam: Why…

Liam: Why did you… save me…?

His crystal clear tears fell into the blood of bright red blood.

Instead of drying his tears, I pulled him into a tight embrace.

Liam: …— rry… — orry.

Liam: I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I'm sorry for being a failure, I’m sorry for not dying…

Liam: I… I want to live…

Liam: I’m sorry… for wanting to live in the end… I’m sorry…

Liam: Ue… ue… uwaaaaahhhh!

Liam continued sobbing uncontrollably, like those were the tears he had been holding in his whole life.

And so I held him tight, never letting go.

As if I were holding in my arms a star that was about to fade away.

As if I were anchoring this kind person to this cruel world.

…

The next day, “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” took England by storm.

Word was getting around about how magnificent the play was, Liam’s outstanding performance, and the existence of “Golden Butterfly”.

William smiled as he looked at the newspaper and magazine articles.

The world will never be free from evil. That’s why Crown exists.

And on the day after “The Hunchback of Notre Dame” had it’s successful show, it had been exactly one month after I promised to be a fairytale writer.

…

The keys on the typewriter clicked and clacked with every movement of my fingers.

I wrote about all the memories I had made in the past month.

Those memories began from the day he first gave me a bouquet of modern roses.

– Flashback Start –

Liam: What do you think about observing only me for the next one month and writing about me in your report?

Kate: Write about you…?

Liam: That’s right. Not about Crown, but about me as a person. It’s because the finest stories are the ones with the best main character.

Liam: I’m confident that I can satisfy and charm you. I’ll shine even brighter just for you.

– Flashback End –

We had so many fun times together that were filled with joy — but the story didn't end there.

The person in front of me was charming, yet somewhat melancholic.

Right when I was about to type the final period, my hands stopped.

(I’ve always wanted my story to help others feel less afraid of what tomorrow would bring them.)

That sentiment grew stronger after meeting Liam, it never changed.

But before I could protect “anyone's” tomorrow, I failed to protect the tomorrow of the one person who was dearest to me.

(Therefore, I—)

Holding the incomplete report in my hand, I stood up from my desk and headed for Victor’s office where I could find what completed it.

…

Kate: — Well then, if you'll excuse me.

I closed the door behind me and stretched my arms, my shoulder joints making a popping noise.

(My shoulders are so tense. Perhaps I’m nervous, because that’s always the case whenever I have to make a decision…)

(I should go see Liam and talk to him about what he wants to do after this, and—)

Liam: Kate…!

Kate: Liam?

I couldn't hold in my laughter when I saw the very person I was thinking about.

Kate: Fufu, you surprised me there. I was just thinking about you—

Liam: *pant*, *pant*...

I was about to talk to him more, but I noticed something was unusual about him.

(This is the first time I’m seeing Liam this anxious. Did something happen…?)

Kate: W-What’s the matter? Is someone hurt? Or…

Liam: Kate… I don't… I don’t like…

(Huh—?)

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil main story #liam main story #niki translates

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bellaxgiornata · 3 months

Text

Break the Tension [Chapter Three: "The Fire"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.5k

[Full summary and series chapter list can be found here.]

Warnings/tags: 18+; Enemies to lovers, sexual tension, smut, semi-public sex, light angst

a/n: It has been SO LONG since this one had an update, but here you all finally go! This one might give y'all whiplash. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag list: @mattkinsella @danzer8705 @pazii @paracosmic-murdock @xxdrixx @haydensith @mixedfandomthings @lilbanas @dorothleah

Swirling the beer inside the bottle in your hand, you had been overly aware of Matt’s focus on you from across the manor’s back patio this entire evening. It didn’t matter that he was blind and his gaze was covered by those dark glasses of his, you could tell every time he’d zeroed in on you whenever you’d spoken among the group you'd sat with that evening. It was like he couldn’t resist the sound of your voice, drawn to it every time you opened your mouth. But you’d caught the way his lips had always thinned out along his face at the sound of it, as if it irritated him that he couldn't stop being so aware of your presence even though he hadn’t been among the group you’d been talking to at the time.

You’d admittedly been enjoying his reaction to you for the past hour as you’d sat drinking down your beer and getting warm by the fire. Though recently Marci had come over and introduced you to a woman by the name of Karen, a beautiful blonde who apparently worked with Matt and Foggy as a lawyer and partner herself at their law firm. The pair of them had taken a seat near you, and as the conversation flowed between the three of you–Karen apparently very curious and interested in the fact that you’d also gone to law school at Columbia with her close friends and firm partners–you’d noticed the group you’d been sitting with had quickly broke off. Eventually Matt and Foggy had found their way over to the three of you and joined in on the reminiscing, but it hadn’t failed your notice the way Matt would jump in, still occasionally shooting off rude comments to you whenever he could.

“So how does it feel,” Karen asked, gesturing her almost empty wine glass at you after you’d once again rebuffed one of Matt’s rude comments, “to be one of the few women immune to Matthew Murdock's charm? Because I’ve seen countless women fall prey to it, even opposing counsel on cases. But you seem…surprisingly unaffected. And I’ve never actually seen him be so blatantly hostile before.”

Matt scowled in his chair but remained silent, instead focusing on twirling the beer bottle he held between his hands. At least it wasn’t going unnoticed that he was being a jerk.

“It’s easy to ignore,” you told her, drawing your bottle up to your lips for another drink, “when he doesn't actually have any charm.”

Beside you, Marci sputtered on the sip of wine she'd just taken as you took a drink from your bottle. She coughed lightly into a hand as next to her, Foggy’s eyes grew double their size and flew over towards Matt in shock. Across the little circle you'd all made, Matt openly scoffed in response. His hands stopped twirling the beer bottle, instead visibly gripping the neck of it in irritation. On your other side, Karen threw a hand over her mouth, attempting to stifle the amused giggle that slipped out of her at your response.

“The only reason she says that,” Matt countered, tone bitter, “is because I’ve never actually used it on her.”

Swallowing down your beer, you lowered the bottle back to your lap. Your eyes narrowed in irritation at his red lenses and that faint smirk on his lips. As you sat there focused on Matt, you could feel Marci, Foggy, and Karen suddenly sucking in a collective breath, but you paid them no further attention. Instead, you were busy recalling the advances Matt had made on you not that long ago this evening. Clearly he was trying to save face, considering the revelation you’d recently had when he’d barged into your room and tried to sleep with you after the rehearsal dinner.

“Oh really?” you asked. “You sure about that? Sure you've never tried to charm me, Murdock?”

“Yeah, I am,” he replied stiffly. “Though I’m guessing part of your anger towards me comes from the fact that I never flirted with you in college. I guess someone’s just disappointed they were always passed over.”

A humorless laugh slipped out of you immediately, the sound drawing a deep frown to Matt’s mouth.

“Passed over?” you asked in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

By now, Foggy, Marci, and Karen were sitting with rapt attention, their eyes darting back and forth between the pair of you like they were watching a tennis match. But your focus was solely on Matt and the challenge he was once again drawing you into. You weren't just going to sit there and take his insults quietly.

“You tried to sleep with almost every single young woman you came across on Columbia’s campus, Murdock,” you continued, hoping he could at least feel the glare you were shooting him. “You were nothing but an absolute asshole to me for the duration of our time at law school together. If anything, I was thrilled to avoid the walking health hazard that threw himself at everything with tits and focus on my studies instead.” You shot him a dark smile, drawing your beer back up to your lips. “You’re not nearly as charming as you think you are, I can assure you of that.”

Matt’s lips pursed, his grip somehow tightening on his beer bottle even further. It looked like he would shatter it if he held it any tighter. You noticed a muscle beginning to twitch in his cheek and one of your brows rose in triumph onto your forehead. Because you knew that he thought you’d be some sort of easy lay this weekend, and he was most certainly going to be proven very wrong. If he wanted you–especially if he was going to continue to be an ass–he was going to have to beg you for whatever it was that he wanted. And you'd certainly enjoy the sight of that.

“Whoa…” Foggy breathed out from the other side of Marci. “It’s been years since I’ve seen another woman speak like that to Matt. I forgot it was possible for women to not fall at his feet...” He shook his head, the look of awe washing off his face immediately. “I mean I know you two have always had… issues with each other, but to see that you really are still immune to his cocky smiles and witty replies is truly still a sight to behold. Especially because I’ve witnessed him charm the pants off many, many women over the years.”

You huffed out a laugh, glancing down at your almost finished drink. “And somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” you muttered. “Still a fuck boy even after graduation. What a shock.”

“Fuck boy?” Matt asked in distaste, his lip curling up into a sneer. “I’m far from that, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes before turning towards Karen. She shot you a tentative smile, brushing some blonde hair behind her ear.

“You started off as an office manager for their firm before becoming a lawyer, right?” you asked her.

“Uh, well, yes,” she answered hesitantly.

“And did Murdock ever try to charm you while you were working for him?” you asked her. “Ever flirt with you? Take you out?”

Her blue eyes darted towards Matt briefly before they landed back on you, her lip catching nervously between her teeth. By the look on her face you already knew the answer to your question.

“Well, we dated briefly,” she admitted. “But things didn’t really end up working out.”

Your head spun back towards Matt, a smug smile on your face. “You tried to sleep with your own office manager, Murdock. My point stands. You’ve always been a fuck boy. Apparently becoming an adult never changed that.”

“And apparently you’re still a bit of a bitter bitch,” Matt snapped in return.

Marci’s hands flew out in the space between the small circle of chairs you were all sitting in, effectively cutting you both off as the tension palpably began to grow. Your teeth grit together in irritation, anger burning inside of you. He'd never stooped so low before as to call you a bitch, even if admittedly you'd made some low blows yourself this evening.

“Okay, I think it’s time for a topic change before someone starts throwing drinks at the other,” Marci said with a nervous laugh. “Let's not forget that we're all here for a happy occasion this weekend.”

“You’re right, I'm sorry,” you apologized, rising to your feet. “I think I’ll head to bed now anyway. Seems like a good time.”

Across the circle the five of you had made, Matt abruptly rose from his chair, too. Your eyes fell back on him, your teeth still grinding back and forth together in annoyance. You just wanted to get away from him already.

For a moment he didn't say anything, just stood there awkwardly across from you, one hand repeatedly readjusting the grip he now had on his cane almost as if he was nervous. The gesture had your eyes narrowing at him suspiciously.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” Matt finally said, voice tense. “Maybe that's what we both need. Some rest. Do you mind helping me back to my room since it's beside yours?”

Both of your eyebrows shot up onto your forehead in shock at the absolute audacity of him asking you to walk him to his room after he'd just called you a bitch. Even Marci, Foggy, and Karen looked baffled beyond belief as they sat there openly gaping at Matt.

But that's when you realized the bridal party and members of Foggy and Marci’s family that were sitting nearby had glanced up from their conversations at Matt's request, listening in because both of you standing had caught their attention. If you refused him, you'd look like an asshole in front of everyone.

The fucking jerk had done that on purpose .

“You want me to walk you back to your room?” you asked through gritted teeth. “Is that what you just asked me?”

“Yes,” he replied with a curt nod. “I'm still fairly unfamiliar with my surroundings here.”

Of course he was going to play up the fact that he needed assistance. What a Matthew Murdock thing to do–one of his tried and true methods back in college.

“Fine,” you grudgingly ground out between your teeth.

You'd barely stepped around your chair before Matt held up a hand, his dark brows rising up onto his forehead behind his glasses.

“Do you mind escorting me?” he asked. “Makes it easier for me to navigate in a new place. And I'd rather not end up with a black eye because I ran into something and ruin tomorrow's photos for Marci and Fog.”

Your hands curled into fists momentarily at your sides. “Fucking Murdock,” you cursed under your breath.

“Uh, Matt, buddy,” Foggy said quickly, rising from his own chair before you could answer, “maybe I should just walk you back–”

“That's alright, Fog,” Matt replied casually, shooting his friend a little smile. “I'd hate to take you away from the evening, and since she is already going the same way…”

“It's fine,” you assured Foggy bitterly.

Foggy’s shoulders dropped as he slowly sank back down into his seat. He didn't look remotely convinced that this was a good idea, and honestly, you knew it wasn't going to be, either. More time alone with Matt would only result in more animosity between you and him, but at least in a few days you’d never have to see him again.

You'd just have to keep reminding yourself that for the rest of the weekend.

Making your way around the circle of chairs and over towards Matt, you reluctantly grabbed the wrist of his outstretched arm before guiding his hand to the crook of your elbow just as you'd always seen Foggy do before. Of course you'd never actually walked with Matt anywhere before yourself, so you didn't exactly know what guiding him truly entailed, but part of you almost didn't care if you saw him trip at this point.

Wordlessly you began to maneuver the pair of you around the group of chairs, noticing the nervous smile of reassurance that Marci sent you before you turned and headed back towards the building. You carefully led the pair of you around a few more groups of people chatting and drinking before finally reaching the double doors that led back inside to the manor’s foyer. Pulling them open, you guided Matt into the building with you, but once the doors had closed behind you, you realized what a truly horrible idea this was.

Now you were alone with him. Again.

Making a straight line across the foyer towards the hallway where your rooms were located, you tried to set a brisk pace. Internally you prayed he'd just keep his damn mouth shut for the duration of this walk together, not wanting to hear another word from him today. You didn't feel like continuing the argument you'd both somehow found yourselves in outside because Marci was right, this was her weekend. You didn't want to ruin it.

But of course, this was Matthew Murdock and he just had to fucking open his mouth again.

“About earlier, I–”

“How about we don't talk?” you rudely suggested, abruptly cutting him short. “I think it's better that way.”

A beat of silence passed as your heels clacked loudly along the floor. You heard Matt clear his throat beside you, and then to your great annoyance, he stupidly opened his mouth again.

“Well I was actually trying to apologize,” he began in irritation. “If you'd just not interrupt me for a single second, you'd have realized that.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at him as the pair of you entered the hallway where your rooms were located. His hand tightened its hold around your inner arm and you desperately hoped you could actually make it all the way to the end of the hall without stabbing him with one of your heels.

“Sure you were,” you muttered.

“I was,” he countered. “Calling you a bitch was out of line and rude. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. It's just, sometimes you–you drive me fucking crazy .”

A bitter laugh fell out of you instantly. You couldn't believe the gall of this guy. First he's rude to you, then he tries to sleep with you, later he calls you a bitch, then proceeds to apologize while simultaneously blaming you for him throwing out the insult in the first place.

“Anyone ever tell you that you're shit at apologies, Murdock?” you told him, eyes focused straight ahead on your room at the end of the hallway. “Because you are.”

“No, that's–that's not what I meant,” he stammered in frustration.

Before you knew what was happening, Matt had tugged your arm sharply, pulling you to a stop in the middle of the hallway. Your heels slipped slightly along the floor at the unexpected and abrupt halt he’d drawn you to. If it wasn't for the firm grip Matt still had on your inner arm, you’d probably have tripped and fallen on your ass.

You'd barely blinked before he'd spun you on the spot, walking you backwards until your back bumped against the hallway wall. A soft, surprised gasp slipped out of you at the impact. You stared up at him in shock and confusion as the elegant wallpaper behind you scratched against the backs of your bare legs.

“Murdock, what the hell are you doing?” you demanded.

Matt released your arm, his hand coming to land against the wall beside your shoulder instead. His other hand was leaning his cane along the wall on your other side, and then that hand too landed flat against the wall beside your hip. It took you a moment to realize that he had caged you in between his arms just before he leaned in towards you. There was an almost pained look on his face as it hovered just inches before yours, the sight of which was only further confusing you.

Your breath immediately came in short at the unexpected closeness of him to you, your own heart thudding heavily in your throat. Half of you wanted to knee him in the balls for whatever he was up to and continue your way on to your room alone, but the other half of you was curious to see how this would play out. Grudgingly you had to admit that he was obnoxiously attractive and you almost wouldn't mind if he finally admitted that he wanted you. Because maybe if he begged you right here and now–just openly admitted in some way that you were right for once–you'd actually take him back to your room and see if he really was a great lay. With the way the buttons were straining on his shirt now, stretched apart just enough to reveal a bit of toned skin beneath it, and the way his stubble accentuated the sharp lines of his cheekbones, you couldn't deny that you were finding yourself turned on.

But you refused to be the one to admit it first.

“You're right, I was being an asshole,” he confessed.

Your mouth fell open in shock immediately. He had never admitted that to you before. Not once had he ever accepted the blame for his actions. What the hell was happening right now?

“I'm sorry,” he added. “Really. You aren't a bitch. I just–just can't seem to help myself around you. You always get so easily angry and riled up with me, and then you make such irritatingly good comebacks like no one else I know that it's like…the comments just come out of me before I can stop them. But this is our friends’ big wedding weekend and…I'll try my best to control myself. To behave.”

Swallowing hard, your focus shifted down to his lips. You figured it had to have been the alcohol in your system making you suddenly want to know what they felt like on yours. It had to be the alcohol that had a heat building inside of you when you watched them move again as he continued to speak.

“So what do you say?” he asked, voice dropping down to a sultry rumble. “Truce?”

Your hands were twisting the hem of your dress, your gaze still lingering along his lips. You'd never truly noticed just how soft they looked before. Or that they were such a pleasant shade of pink.

“I just want to enjoy my weekend,” you answered him, annoyed at how breathless you suddenly sounded. “Celebrate my friends’ wedding. So if you can–can play nice for a few days, then so can I.”

Matt took a step forward towards you, closing the already miniscule bit of space between the pair of your bodies. Your back pressed further against the wall behind you as your hands released your dress, flying forward almost involuntarily and landing flat on his chest. Whether to push him away or just because you wanted to touch him, you honestly couldn't say. But your index finger had somehow landed on a bit of warm skin poking out between the strained buttons of his dress shirt. Now you couldn’t focus on anything else besides how warm and smooth his skin felt in that small little patch. You were suddenly aware of just how solid he was beneath your hands, too. Far more muscular than he even appeared beneath his snug suit coat and dress shirt.

Your teeth ground tight together as you tried to focus on your breathing, but Matt’s hand slid across the wall and lightly landed on your hip. The heat of his palm settled so resolutely there had a shiver running up your spine. Eyes darting back up towards his face, you’d noticed his lips had parted just a fraction, his head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“You smell so good,” he whispered.

Legs beginning to feel weak in your heels, you were practically letting the wall hold you steady now. Struggling to take a full breath, you replied, “Well that’s the–” you paused, clearing your throat and hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your voice had quivered. “That’s sort of the purpose of perfume,” you finished lamely.

He began to lean in closer towards you, bringing lips so close to yours that you could feel each passing exhale from his mouth brush over your own. You had no idea what had come over you–though you figured it had something to do with the fact that he’d apologized and called for a truce–but you weren’t pushing him away. You didn’t want to.

Which surprised even yourself.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he murmured. “Tell me no.”

As the tip of his nose faintly brushed against yours, you weren’t sure whether he was asking you to tell him no or giving you the option to. But either way, your mouth couldn’t form a single word. Instead, your fingers dug into his chest, bracing yourself for something– anything at this point. It felt like there was a fire gradually beginning to build beneath every inch of your skin now. You’d never felt anything like it before, but you wanted more .

Slowly–almost painfully so–Matt closed the remaining distance between your mouths. The touch of his lips against yours was barely there, only that of a simple, hesitant peck. He pulled back a fraction, a deep, rumbling noise vibrating in his chest. Your fingers suddenly curled into his dress shirt, drawing him closer to you as your mind could only focus on one thought: you wanted to kiss him.

Matt’s hand on your hip gripped tighter as he pressed you further back into the wall. Then without further warning he dove forward, slamming his mouth to yours like he’d been waiting far too long for this very moment. His other hand was suddenly at your neck, holding you firmly in place before him as his lips connected with yours over and over in such a heated passion that you couldn’t catch a single breath.

As if they were moving on their own, your hands slid their way up his chest, one of them grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer and deepen the kiss while the other wound its way into his dark hair. You gripped a fistful of the strands tight between your fingers, your mouth desperately trying to match the feverish pace Matt’s was setting as a lightheadedness washed over you.

Before you could register he’d moved, his lips were making a trail of kisses down the length of your jaw and towards your neck. Your head fell back against the wall as your grip on him only tightened, your eyes closing in sheer ecstasy. You couldn’t believe how good he was with just his mouth and you fought the moan that was beginning to build in the back of your throat.

His hand on your hip slid its way down, pausing on the bare skin of your thigh just beneath the hem of your dress. Seconds later you felt him bury his nose into your neck, inhaling softly as he dragged it along the length of your skin, his stubble pleasantly scratching against you as he moved. An almost inaudible whimper left him just before his hips pressed forward firmly into your own. You could feel his growing arousal pressing against your thigh now, both of your hands fisting handfuls of his hair as his lips hovered at your neck.

Then that traitorous moan finally loosed itself from inside of you, slipping past your lips when he gently nipped a sensitive spot along your neck. The sound was sinful in the otherwise silent hallway, and somehow that only made it seem louder. With something like a growl, Matt’s mouth moved further downward just before his lips latched onto your exposed collarbone, sucking on the patch of skin. You hissed out a noise of pleasure between your teeth in response just before his tongue began to run along the length of it.

But when his hand slowly began to slide further up beneath your dress, his hips sensually grinding his erection into your thigh in a way that felt far too fucking good, your eyes abruptly flew open. Sense suddenly came flooding back to you as your breath caught in your throat.

Because you were in the goddamn hallway with Matthew fucking Murdock kissing you.

“Stop,” you gasped out.

At the sound of your voice, Matt immediately froze. His lips released your skin and his hand paused its movement, his fingertips a matter of inches from your panties. You were painfully aware of the faint wet patch that had begun to form, something almost like embarrassment flooding you. Thankfully his hand hadn't made its way near enough to notice, something you were grateful for.

Disentangling your hands from his hair, they landed firmly on his shoulders. You gave him a determined, solid push against them and he stepped back, his hands returning easily to his sides. Though you noticed the way his chest was heaving and how disheveled his hair looked. His lips were damp with saliva and his face was flushed as he gazed back at you, dark brows knitted together in a mixture of what looked like concern and confusion.

And you could plainly see the bulge still present in his dress pants, which only had your teeth biting down onto your lip. Because you had so easily turned him on, too.

“I–I told you I wouldn't be some easy fuck,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “Not like all those other women you’ve been with. That's–that's not me, Murdock. I’m not them.”

For a second it almost looked like he’d winced before he opened his mouth.

“Sweetheart, you're–”

You held up a hand, more vigorously shaking your head. “No, don't call me that,” you warned him, still painfully aware of how your blood was burning at the sight of him like this before you. “If you want me you're going to–to have to admit it,” you told him, trying hard to catch your breath. “Admit that you want me, Murdock. That you’ve always wanted me. Without that, things aren’t going any further than…this.”

You pushed yourself off of the wall, aware he was still standing there staring at you in shock and confusion. You skirted around him, no longer trusting yourself to walk him to his room after that heated and unexpected kiss.

“Your room is just about fifteen more feet down the hall and on your right,” you called over your shoulder. “I'm sure you can find your way there from here.”

Picking up your pace, you hurried down the rest of the hallway to your room as well. You just wanted to get away from this confusing moment. Because Matthew Murdock shouldn't have been able to make you feel quite like that. Not nearly as easily as he had. Not after everything you’d endured with him in college and how rude he’d been to you earlier.

It had to have been the alcohol mixed with his apology. That was all it was. Because you refused to believe that you couldn't control yourself around Matthew Murdock–that you might actually want him, too.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #daredevil

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amporella · 1 year

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KYLE BROFLOVSKI, STAN MARSH, AND THE FEMININE/MASCULINE QUESTION... PART TWO!

(Or; In defense of feminine Kyle and masculine Stan)

(OR or; how Matt and Trey's outdated views prove their intentions for their characters...

(...PART TWO!!!)

If you haven’t read the first part, you can read it HERE to get caught up on a LOT of exposition and just as much Stan talk. If you've already read it yesterday, here's a quick refresher; this is the long awaited (by me. I've been long awaiting it) justification for my interpretation of feminine Kyle and masculine Stan. Let's get into it!

In Part 1, we covered a lot, but we somehow didn't get to one of the centerpieces of this meta; Kyle! So, let's jump right into his section.

KYLE BROFLOVSKI, FEMININITY ONCE REMOVED:

i. Personality

The first place to begin in proving Kyle’s femininity would be to compare him to Tweek, or, more specifically, to compare him to the ‘woman-like’ traits that Matt and Trey identified within Tweek. First, let’s quickly go over again what Matt and Trey had to say those traits actually were:

“One person wanting, which is usually the woman... who flips out a bit more about things emotionally, and generally the man is a bit more, like... not responsive to emotion, and just wants to problem solve. And we have had experience with that…"

What this essentially boils down to is that they think the woman is more emotional, and more prone to wanting their emotions validated rather than wanting to immediately solve the problem. Now, we know that Kyle is a problem solver; his SP and Me profile actually explicitly says that he is! But that doesn’t mean he’s a quick problem solver, as we can see in Crack Baby Athletic Association.

This episode is one of the best examples of Kyle engaging in behavior similar to Tweek in ‘Put It Down’, with Stan playing Craig’s role. Kyle has a way to solve the problem immediately - by dropping out of Cartman’s organization and admitting his wrongdoing - but instead, he repeatedly returns to Stan and requests that he validates his feelings on the subject. He wants Stan to admit that he’s right to feel the way that he does, and while the way he does naturally varies from Tweek due to personality differences (Tweek’s reaction being to things generally out of his control, while Kyle reacts to and tries to justify his own decisions), it’s a similar concept.

Furthermore, Kyle serves as an occasional parallel to Tweek in more situations than just that one episode; they’re both highly neurotic characters, a trait which Matt and Trey have associated with women constantly throughout the show. Even beyond admitting that they view women as more emotional in that initial commentary, women are consistently the ones throughout the show who show the most dramatic reactions. There are some exceptions, namely:

Randy, who tends to be more emotional than Sharon. However, this doesn’t disprove the above point, as Matt and Trey label Randy as a ‘Karen’ for his emotional behavior; despite being an emotional man, he is still compared to a woman within Matt and Trey’s eyes.

Mr. Garrison, who is one of the most dramatic characters in the series. Matt and Trey often tend to conflate feminine men and women regardless (which would line up with them conflating femininity in any gender with women), and the plot point involving his transition to Ms. Garrison frequently references his ‘feminine’ personality traits as partial justification.

Even considering exceptions, it’s obvious that Matt and Trey think neuroticism is a female trait, and Kyle, out of the main four, is always the one who’s the butt of the joke about it.

Consider ‘Pee’, an episode that I mentioned briefly in Part 1 as our first example.

In this episode, Matt and Trey lean heavily on Kyle being a dramatic, easily grossed out character. Furthermore, the rest of the boys don’t seem to care at all; only the background women find peeing in the pool to be disgusting. The two snippets of script that I’ve shown above have obvious parallels between them: one character (Kyle and the woman, respectively) show disgust at pee, and another character (Stan and the man, respectively) wave it off. In this situation, Matt and Trey are obviously comparing Kyle to the woman. And that’s far from the only time they do so in the show.

Kyle is consistently the character that Matt and Trey use for misogynistic jokes, or really any jokes that relate to gender nonconformity. Consider the following examples:

Cartman’s ‘sand in your vagina’ joke. Kyle is always the butt of it; I can’t remember any instance where any other character, no matter how they behaved, was hit with it. Could this be because Cartman obviously hates Kyle? Sure. That’s part of it. But Cartman also frequently relates Butters to femininity, and never projects that joke onto him. Out of the main four, according to Cartman, Kyle is the designated ‘girl’; when Cartman views him as overreacting, he immediately associates it with Kyle being female.

Another example of this would be in ‘Raising The Bar’, where Cartman points out Kyle’s ‘slim stomach and perky tits’. Kenny does something similar in ‘Make Love, Not Warcraft’, where he comments on Kyle’s avatar. I’m not going to go too deeply into that second one, because we’re going to be discussing that in the Appearance section in a little more detail.

A third example relating more to general gender nonconformity would be in ‘Help, My Teenager Hates Me!’, where Kyle uses Sheila’s makeup to cover injuries and Gerald tells her that he’s just experimenting. Every time Matt and Trey have the opportunity to make a joke about femininity, or to even align a character with women, they choose Kyle. And while the characters making these declarations about him in-show may have their own reasons for doing so, it’s telling that Matt and Trey still pick Kyle to be the butt of the joke.

There are also many more instances in which Matt and Trey take the opportunity to align him with gender nonconformity and/or women, with an example of the former being in ‘South Park Is Gay’.

If it’s been a while since you’ve seen that episode (and since the plot is too widely spread for me to pick effective script pieces), here’s a brief summary: the men and boys of South Park decide to become ‘metrosexual’ by dressing in a more feminine manner and being more hygienic. Mr. Garrison believes that they’re imitating gay culture when it becomes convenient for them, and decides to put a stop to it. Kyle, after being beaten up at school for refusing to conform, teams up with Mr. Garrison to kill the Queer Eye guys.

On first glance, this seems like it shouldn’t belong in this essay; Kyle refuses to conform to femininity, and therefore must prefer masculinity, right?

Well, it’s not that simple. South Park is a satire show; naturally, nearly every episode is a satire of something. South Park Is Gay isn’t meant to be taken literally on the surface level: if you consider it from the perspective of South Park as a whole, it becomes obvious that it’s a satire of the opposite issue. Kyle, as the odd one out, is meant to be the gay, feminine kid who doesn’t conform to masculinity; the boys who beat him up are meant to be masculine boys who don’t support femininity. When looking at it through that lens, it makes a lot more sense; the actual events of the episode are not something that happens in any frequent sense, while the inner layer does happen: naturally, it makes sense to parody it, and the most effective parody (and the best humor) would come from flipping it directly on its head.

Even beyond looking at the satire aspect, Matt and Trey’s decision to pair Kyle up with the most prominent feminine male character is telling; Kyle takes the side of feminine gay men in this episode. He is the gender nonconforming character, and Matt and Trey’s decision to place him in that situation was very much intentional.

It’s also not the only time where Kyle is aligned, either figuratively or literally, with feminine characters. In fact, it happens throughout the entire show: Kyle is very much his mother’s son, and takes after her heavily personality and morals wise.

Sheila creates ‘Mothers Against Canada’, and Kyle creates ‘Millennials Against Canada’. Sheila grows up in Jersey, and Kyle undergoes a Jersey transformation as a child that they bond over. Kyle even mimics some of her behaviors in the Post-Covid specials; when he gets angry, he emotes in the exact same way that she does. When Stan wants to get to Kyle, he tells him that he’s acting like his mother right now. Kyle’s relationship with Sheila is extremely close and very complex, and that he is compared so consistently to her while none of the other boys are to their own mothers is telling, especially when considering two other factors: that Stan is far more similar to his father in Post Covid, and that Kyle’s role in the show is often maternal.

The greatest example of Kyle’s maternal role would be in The Jeffersons, which also serves as a contrast between how he and Stan behave in that situation. In this episode, Kyle takes it upon himself to protect and care for Blanket after realizing that he’s being neglected from his father.

Despite all of the other kids being there, Kyle notices Blanket’s injury first and is the first to take action to help him. His maternal behavior continues throughout the rest of the episode, even when Stan steps in later on: Stan steps forward to scold Mr. Jefferson and Cartman, while Kyle hangs back and holds Blanket’s hand.

There are obviously no inherent behaviors of parenting that can be ascribed to mothers or fathers, but throughout history and media, people have stereotyped mothers as being more protective and loving, while fathers are more assertive and defend the family as a whole. Are Matt and Trey progressive enough to intentionally avert these tropes with Stan and Kyle? Probably not. When they choose the way Stan and Kyle behave in this scene, especially considering how frequently they are related to their father and mother respectively, it is highly likely they intended for Kyle to play the ‘mother’ and Stan to play the ‘father’.

But that’s not all when it comes to examples of Kyle being aligned with women.

‘Miss Teacher Bangs A Boy’ also serves as an example (to which I say thank you @/imaginationlandtrilogy for bringing this up in a separate post and letting me use it: I didn’t even think of this one!) Throughout the episode, none of the male characters take Ms. Stevenson assaulting Ike seriously. The police, Cartman, and even Stan don’t see the issue. Kyle is the only exception.

The female characters, on the other hand, all immediately see the issue with the situation, a non-Broflovski example being Principal Victoria, who is horrified and calls the police. Gerald is not present in the episode, so we can’t make a solid decision on whether Kyle’s behavior is because he’s a member of Ike’s family, but regardless, Kyle is once again put on the side of the women as opposed to the side of the men and boys.

Given the large number of instances of this occurring (to which the above few are only a snapshot), it’s difficult to imagine that this isn’t intentional. Matt and Trey consistently align Kyle with the women and separate him from the men. His stereotypically feminine personality traits are called out time and time again, sometimes with entire episodes devoted to them, and when they need a character to serve as the ‘girl’ among the main four, they always pick Kyle. With our Matt and Trey goggles on, the reasoning for this is obvious: they believe that Kyle is the more feminine out of the main four boys, and most certainly out of Kyle and Stan, and use that to differentiate him personality wise, to make jokes at the expense of women, and to open up more opportunity for plots that require such a personality to enact.

We know that Kyle’s personality and the way it’s depicted in the show is intentionally feminine from the perspective of the writers, but what about the other aspects of his character? We still have two more sections we need to address, so let’s get into them. I promise these are going to be shorter.

ii. Interests

Stan tends to be a more fleshed out character than Kyle purely in terms of interests, leaving us few to go off of for the latter, but there is one that’s important enough to his character to merit addressing: his studiousness and interest in academia.

(But before that, to briefly address a point that might come up: Kyle does play basketball, and I did list sports (though American football in particular) as a masculine interest! However, I don’t think that Kyle’s interest in sports is as formative to his character as it is for Stan’s, nor is it as formative as his interest in academia; if you’re interested in my reasoning, you can read more about that in my jock Stan meta!)

So, is studiousness a feminine or masculine trait? Within the wider context of popular culture, that’s difficult to discern; while the ‘nerd’ trait is typically applied to women within media, academia has largely been a male field. But even though we can’t rely on popular culture to get us our answer, we can rely on Matt and Trey, and they’ve made their opinion on that extremely clear through their other most studious character: Wendy Testaburger.

Wendy’s intelligence, studiousness, and commitment to school stand out as some of her more consistent personality traits throughout the duration of the show. In that way, she serves as the closest parallel to Kyle out of the girls, especially considering their shared strong moral standings. As a result, they get along with each other fairly well in scenes they share; an example of such would be in Follow That Egg, where their commitment to the project and to getting an A make them compatible partners.

Wendy and Kyle working well together on academics isn’t the only reason I bring up the above quotes, though: I also bring it up to point out that even Bebe cares about the project, while Stan doesn’t. In fact, none of the boys we see in the episode do; Cartman goes so far as to accidentally break his egg. This is a theme that remains consistent throughout school-related episodes of South Park: most of the boys don’t care about school, while the girls, and Kyle, do.

Through this, Matt and Trey establish caring about school as a trait they associate much more heavily with girls: while the girls commit to their work and tend to study, the boys instead wing it. This wouldn’t be an unlikely view for them to have, either; it falls very well in line with ‘boys will be boys’, and is thus a fairly well established view for older men to have.

By making the girls studious, Matt and Trey set a precedent, and by establishing Kyle as the most academically inclined boy during their childhoods, they consciously choose to group Kyle with the girls. Given the rest of the above instances in which they also choose to group him with women and girls, it’s hard to believe this is a coincidence.

iii. Appearance

Now we get to a particularly interesting part; Kyle’s appearance. A large majority of what constitutes femininity in personality and interests remains up for debate, even when considering it from a more ‘traditional’ perspective, but femininity in regards to appearance has remained relatively consistent in recent years.

The first point in the appearance section is also the most obvious: his appearance in Make Love, Not Warcraft.

When selecting his avatar in World of Warcraft, Kyle makes the conscious decision to play as a woman. Furthermore, he doesn’t play as just any woman; he plays as a fairly feminine woman, who wears a dress and could be wearing jewelry. Given that every other boy chooses to play as a man (with Stan choosing a very traditionally masculine man), it’s unlikely that decision was because they were out of male characters, or that none of those male characters was a magic user: instead, it’s more likely that he simply wanted to play as a feminine character. He actively chose to present in that manner in game, and it serves as a sharp contrast between his gender presentation and Stan’s.

It’s certainly possible he was only given that avatar to give Cartman and Kenny someone to joke about, but that doesn’t explain the character’s motivation in-canon for making that decision, nor does it explain why Kyle was the chosen character instead of Butters, who has far more of a history of choosing to present in a feminine manner.

There are a few other small things that could also be mentioned in this section (such as Kyle calling himself a ‘styling Jew’ in The Lonely Jew on Christmas, and Kyle being put in the place of Little Red Riding Hood by Cartman), but the next most intentional connection between Kyle and feminine appearances is in TFBW, where Kyle comments this about the New Kid (if they’re female):

This is particularly notable because none of the other characters say anything like this. Stan comments on how he can’t tell if the New Kid is a boy or a girl, Kenny comments on the New Kid reminding him of his sister, and Kyle comments on… femininity in boys being okay? It’s a strange quote compared to the idling quotes from every other boy, none of which are at all similar.

Kyle acknowledging femininity in boys being a reality and acknowledging that it’s perfectly acceptable is strange as a one off instance, but it makes a lot of sense when the rest of his behavior, and Matt and Trey’s portrayal of him, is considered. Femininity in boys is relevant to him because he is a feminine boy; he has more of a reason than anybody else to affirm what he thinks the New Kid’s presentation is, because it’s a similar presentation to his own.

iv. Conclusion

I’m going to keep this section brief, because we have a much longer conclusion to go over that will wrap up this whole meta, but here’s a brief summary of the things we’ve just covered in Kyle’s section.

Given Matt and Trey’s historically regressive views of women and femininity, as well as their tendency towards misogynistic jokes, we can take the traits they give Kyle and conclude that he is, in a sense, intended to be the ‘girl’ of the main four, or the character that Matt and Trey use for regressive jokes and scenes they need ‘feminine’ traits for. Furthermore, we can also conclude that Matt and Trey frequently grouping Kyle with girls, women, and gender nonconforming people is not coincidental, and they do so in reference to both behavior and interests. Finally, Kyle’s intentional decisions to align himself with femininity in regard to appearance confirms that he, in comparison to many of the male characters, has a distinct preference for presenting in a feminine manner.

THE ACTUAL CONCLUSION:

WE’RE FINALLY HERE. THE ACTUAL CONCLUSION. MY FINGERS HURT.

First, let’s do one big final summary of the whole thing, in bullet point format for simplicity:

i. The Summary

Femininity and masculinity are difficult to discern in characters from a progressive view, so we need to figure them out from a different perspective.

Characterization by fans is most accurate when you look at intention instead of individual scenes; therefore, the above perspective we need to use is the most likely one that Matt and Trey would have. We can confirm they hold that perspective using their view of creek.

Using that perspective, we can conclude that Stan is intended to be a masculine character, and Kyle is intended to be a feminine character based on their behaviors, interests, and appearances. Them playing these roles is vitally important to the dynamic of the show.

However, given the heated discussion behind this topic, finishing off with a quick summary probably isn’t enough to put the question to rest. So, it’s mini FAQ time. Don’t take the concept of the FAQ too seriously; it’s just the most convenient way I could think of to answer these!

ii. The FAQ

Q: If Kyle is feminine and Stan is masculine, doesn’t shipping them (or portraying them that way in the ship) make it heteronormative?

A: No. The word ‘heteronormative’ (and the concept of heteronormativity) is wildly misused in fandom in general, and most definitely within the South Park fandom. Heteronormativity, in short, is the concept that heterosexuality is the ‘default’ sexuality, and that straight relationships are the norm. It has barely anything to do with masculine/feminine gay relationships; in fact, I would go so far as to say gay relationships inherently cannot be heteronormative just by virtue of being gay.

To call a masculine/feminine gay relationship heteronormative implies that that relationship is somehow less gay than a masculine/masculine relationship, which thereby implies that a feminine man is somehow more of a woman than a masculine man. Gender has little to do with how you present yourself; a feminine gay man is still a man as long as he identifies as such.

Q: Isn’t the whole point of a gay relationship that neither of them are ‘the woman’?

A: There is literally no situation in which a gay man in a relationship is suddenly the woman. It does not matter how he presents himself, or what he does within the relationship; none of it makes him inherently a woman. Masculine/feminine relationships in both gay men and lesbians are a huge part of gay culture, and erasing that to attempt to be progressive is not actually progressive, or helpful, at all.

Q: How can you say Kyle is feminine when he presents like the other guys (ie masculine) most of the time?

A: I think a commonly misunderstood theme when discussing these issues is the idea that men existing is inherently masculine. It’s not. When Kyle, a 10 year old, dresses in clothes that a 10 year old often dresses in, he’s not making any statement about his gender presentation. Neither is Stan! That’s why I didn’t include their typical outfits for either of them.

Femininity is considered to be much more of an intentional performance than masculinity, especially in men; Kyle by virtue of existing as a man can be deemed masculine, but he would need to wear makeup and dresses for people to admit that he chooses to present as feminine. It’s an unfair standard; as such, when I consider femininity and masculinity in terms of appearances, I only do it when they make the conscious decision to change their looks with few outside forces influencing them. He isn’t choosing masculinity or rejecting femininity just by existing, but he does frequently choose femininity when he gets the option to.

Q: Isn’t making Kyle feminine adhering to Jewish stereotypes?

A: I’m not Jewish, so I can’t speak as much on this topic. However, adhering to the way a character is portrayed in canon should not automatically be considered problematic, and furthermore, people are not stereotypes for existing. Feminine Jewish men are very real. Short Jewish men are very real. Gay Jewish men are very real. Jewish men with all of the above traits are once again very real. They deserve to be able to exist without inherently being deemed stereotypical or problematic.

There are always going to be people who are bigoted, or cruel, or intentionally stereotype characters in a legitimately problematic way. That doesn’t mean every person who adheres to that portrayal is that way, especially when there are legitimate justifications for it in canon. You are well within your rights to be personally uncomfortable with feminine Kyle as a portrayal; it doesn’t mean it’s an incorrect or necessarily bad portrayal, especially when legitimately antisemitic things are rife within this fandom. There is much to be focused on and much to be improved; I can’t say I see feminine Kyle to inherently be one of those things that needs correction.

Q: If you make Kyle feminine based off of Matt and Trey’s stereotypes/jokes, doesn’t that mean you believe them?

Not really! It’s true that I think a lot of Kyle’s traits were intended to be feminine by Matt and Trey. That being said, that doesn’t mean I necessarily believe those traits are actually feminine, regardless of how we define that word. Part of consuming media (especially ‘problematic’ media) is learning to critically analyze it, and learning to take what you want from it while leaving the rest. You don’t have to agree with what Matt and Trey think to enjoy the show, or the characters, or to acknowledge the intention they came at those characters with.

iii. The Actual, Final Conclusion

This is like the fourth conclusion so far, and I promise it’s the final one.

Now that we’ve gotten a good portion of the political questions out of the way, here’s the REAL main reason that I wrote this, outside of discourse or necessary justification or anything like that: I like feminine Kyle! I like writing about him. I like picking out things in canon that support my belief and writing about them.

That being said, I don’t think you have to like feminine Kyle to acknowledge the points I’ve been trying to make here. You can note everything I’ve put in here, and you can use it for totally different characterizations; that’s your right. Maybe Stan and Kyle undergo a drastic shift in presentation; it could happen! Or maybe you just want to scrap everything here, whether it’s because you’d rather look at it from a different angle or because you want to build your interpretations from the ground up; you can also do that. If that’s what makes you happy, you SHOULD do that!

The point I’m trying to make here isn’t that feminine Kyle is the only correct interpretation; it’s that it is a valid interpretation, and that there’s evidence to back it up. There’s a lot of evidence to back it up! I feel confident saying that Kyle is a canonically feminine character. But even if there wasn’t evidence, it’s an interpretation that deserves respect, just like the rest of the harmless interpretations out there, no matter how much you personally dislike it. Furthermore, it’s not an interpretation that necessarily says anything about you as a person, or your political views, or your biases. There are some things in this fandom that are indicative of those; this isn’t one of them.

Representation of gender non-conforming people is important - even representation in headcanons, or representation that you’re wary of, or any other form of representation - and we should be able to seek it from whatever character we can (and want to) wring it out of.

Even if that character is shaped like an egg.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

This meta is basically my child at this point, so I feel like it deserves some acknowledgements:

A huge thank you to @adriabun for their amazing section header suggestions, and thanks to @craigrights, @5ftkyle, and @alister312 as well as @adriabun again for their constant encouragement and moral support! Also thank you to all the rest of my friends, who suggested a ton of the things I ended up using here; in the most un-cheesy way I can say this, I couldn't have done it without your help. Thanks to anybody who I mentioned in here for your great metas, and finally: thank you to anyone who made it this far! It was a long one and it means a lot to me that you read it. <3

#south park #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #south park meta #meta #WHEW!!! IT'S DONE!!!!

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thesalemwitchtries · 3 months

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Dreaming Of a Grave: Chapter 4

Word Count: 2,600-ish

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Named! Fem! Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: distrust of police/government, overuse of the series comma, general angst in the form of feelings of guilt and failure, I did not proofread this very well, so probably spelling and grammar mistakes

Taglist: @reblog-reblog666 (you're an angel, thank you for your patience, this chapter isn't very good, but I'm still dedicating it to you 🫶)

Masterlist

Sorry for the long wait, this chapter is short and not my favorite, but I needed to get it out so that I could finally move on with the parts of the story that I want to tell, that haven't been giving me awful writer's block. Thank you so much for reading! Any comments or feedback are much appreciated!

Elena’s apartment building had been worse than Karen or Foggy could have anticipated. Flickering lights, lingering draft, and battered walls built an ominous atmosphere, one that contradicted the sunny Tuesday morning that they had left outside.

Foggy wished that they could go back, but he and Karen had made a promise to do what they could to help Elena. This promise was only fortified by his first hand observation of the building; these weren’t living conditions that could wait for a court settlement.

He only felt more dread as Elena and Karen chatted about her neighbor while they climbed the stairs. It really seemed like Ms. Tanner didn’t want their help, especially if she’d been able to turn down his very persuasive partner. He hoped she wouldn't be too angry that they dropped by. Being yelled at would only ruin his day, and it was shaping up to be a long one.

Stopping in front of a green door —number 15 with the 5 upside down due to a missing screw— Foggy looked at the two women beside him, gauging their expressions to see if he was the only one that felt like he was staring at the gallows. Just him, as usual.

They stood there for a few moments, him and Karen silently arguing over who would knock on the door before Sra. Cardenas did the honors. Foggy plastered a smile on his face, one that he hoped said: “Hey, I’m trustworthy and positive, but still sympathetic to your pain and situation, you don’t have to let us help you, but please please do.”

Maybe it was a lot to have riding on a smile, but an assault charge would do wonders to move the civil case forwards in their favor. And of course there was the ‘justice for the innocent’ part of things too.

The door opened slowly, a woman about Karen’s age poking her head out, and then bracing herself between the door and the frame. Her eyes flickered over the strange collection of smiles, Karen and Foggy trying to project trustworthiness, Sra. Cardenas looking almost sheepish.

“Señora Elena, buenas días…” Ms. Tanner said glancing over the group with open curiosity.

To Foggy’s chagrin, Ms. Tanner was absolutely stunning. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Matt somehow knew, with his weird ability to pick out hot women and any secrets that Foggy didn’t want him to know. In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion that Matt had feigned surprise at every gift he’d been given through their entire friendship. This year he was thinking of giving him a Roomba, but he kept going back and forth over whether Matt might trip on it.

It was left to Sra. Cardenas to break the silence and introduce the less-than-welcome houseguests; “Charlotte, this is Señor Foggy, es mi abogado, él quiere ayudarte.”

Somehow Ms. Tanner managed to keep her expression respectful while still doing something that was very reminiscent of a petulant stomp. Her head rolled back on her shoulders, before popping back up with a fond shake.

“Elena…”

“Oye, estás herida, necesitamos hacer algo.” Elena insisted, her fist thumping down into the palm of her opposite hand, like her own imaginary hammer of justice.

She motioned insistently towards Foggy, who only caught her meaning when Karen nudged him with her elbow. Say something. Yeah, he could totally do that, just as soon as he was done nervously clearing his throat.

“Ms. Tanner, we can help you. I promise.” he said, the words falling flat after the long moments that it took him to gather his thoughts and begin. He could practically feel Karen rolling her eyes beside him as he was forced to watch Ms. Tanner’s polite expression harden into something that taunted his ineloquence. Every trophy that he’d ever won for speech and debate melted in the fire of her disdainful eyes.

Elena rushed to his defense, wrapping a hand around Foggy’s arm and reaching out towards her neighbor, “No lie, Charlotte. Foggy is a good boy, he means what he says.”

Foggy awkwardly shifted in place, trying to push back his shoulders and exude the confidence that Sra. Cardenas spoke of him with.

The posturing did nothing to change Ms. Tanner's stony look, like he’d kicked her puppy in front of her, and had just threatened to do it again. It was rage wrapped in caution, and he was sure that it was but the grace of God —by which he meant Elena Cardenas’ kind smile and determined stare— that allowed he and Karen to stand in her doorway this long.

After taking her time with her appraisal, ensuring that it went without saying exactly how unconvinced she was by their appeals, she turned to her well-meaning neighbor. Her movements were stiff, but the harsh light in her eyes softened into something earnest as she leaned in to speak.

“Señora, ellos son abogados, no son héroes.”

Sra. Cardenas’ shoulders slumped in defeat for a mere second before the woman had gathered her argument again; “Charlotte, please.”

“Estoy agradecida por eso,” Ms. Tanner said, giving a firm shake of her head and taking a step back into her apartment, “Pero no necesito ayuda, Señora.”

“Ms. Tanner, if I may,” Karen cut in, seeing the door about to close both literally and figuratively. “I’m not a lawyer, but I have a story that I’d like to tell you, if you’d just listen. I think that you might be able to help me.”

The door creaked back open from where Ms. Tanner had gotten it halfway closed, and Karen got goosebumps from the sharp, probing look that she received, cutting straight through to bone.

“If you’re not a lawyer, then who are you?”

“My name is Karen Page, I’ve been the secretary at Nelson and Murdock for a few weeks now.”

“So what, you want to ask about improving file management operations?” she asked, arms crossing over her chest and leaning against the doorframe.

While her tone was sharp, there was a distinct twitch in her lips that made Karen dip her head with her own smile. With a tut of her tongue and shake of her head, Karen celebrated her victory over Matt’s charm and Foggy’s experience. Take that, Columbia Law.

“No, not really,” Karen chuckled, “But I’m always open to suggestions, if you have a few.”

Ms. Tanner was unable to hide the wariness in her posture, but it only took her a moment and a silent exchange with Sra. Cardenas before she stood and opened the door all the way.

“A few? I practically live for data management, Ms. Page.”

Karen had chuckled as she waved Foggy down the hall, his expression of relief all too clear and amusing to resist, as he escorted Elena back to her apartment with a well-mannered offer of his elbow.

Now though it was difficult not to feel like she had been shut in the den of the beast as the door was closed and locked behind her. She was spending too much time with Foggy, his dramatics wearing off on her already.

She would remain optimistic, she and Ms. Tanner could help each other, and Karen had to have faith in that.

Ushering her ahead, Ms. Tanner stopped in the hall to try and straighten a framed painting, a piece that looked to Karen like it had been left out on the sidewalk, maybe for good reason. As it shifted, she caught sight of the hole in the wall that was being hidden behind it, and couldn’t hide her frown.

The apartment was much more cheerful than one might expect from the state of the hallway. In fact, ignoring the broken furniture and holes in the plaster, Karen thought that she might have even been a bit jealous. It was as small and battered as every other cheap apartment in New York, but didn’t feel cramped or rundown. Someone loved this place, in the way Karen remembered loving her childhood bedroom or her grandmother’s parlor.

She took a seat where she was directed to, in the least worn armchair in the living space, and when she shivered, Ms. Tanner began to brew her a cup of tea.

Sun drifted in from the windows, drawing her attention to the source of the chill: one pane broken and hastily sealed with a garbage bag and duct tape. Plants sat on the sill, ferns with broken stems and pots patched with more duct tape. There were succulents that Karen was pretty sure would be gurgling if they could, but she couldn’t attribute that to Tully’s men, more like systemic overwatering.

Rainbows played across the hardwood and her lap, and she smiled, tracing them back to the sun-catchers hanging before the glass.

The late morning faded into early afternoon as the two women danced around each other, exchanging pleasantries and stiff smiles, pretending not to be observing one another as closely as they were.

An olive branch was finally extended in the form of re-introduction, ‘Please, call me Charlie,’ and ‘Only if you call me Karen’ serving to thaw some of the formal air between them.

Still, the tea had long been finished and the sun began to heat up the day before Karen worked up the nerve to tell Char the story that she’d promised. Not that Char really minded, she was more than content to pretend that Karen was there because they were friends, not because she was operating on the behalf of lawyers whose help she could never accept.

“I used to work as a secretary at Union Allied Construction.” Karen began, weaving a story that shattered Char’s naive game of pretend, “A few months ago I opened a file labeled ‘Pension_Master’ and now four people are dead because of what I found inside.”

Throughout her story, Karen remained oblivious to the way that her hostess twitched in her seat, the way her overfed cat twined itself nervously around her feet, and most of all to the way that was most definitely not normal.

Glancing at her hands for each of her most shocking reveals, Karen always just missed the way that the woman across from her would seem to glitch. Her image flickering from side to side and up and down in random, quick bursts: like an infected computer trying to close a window.

The familiar email attachment had thrown Char off-guard, and things just continued to get worse from there.

Not only had she failed in bringing the Shadow to justice, she’d almost gotten the innocent woman that she sent the evidence to murdered, had gotten an innocent father killed, and 3 others were now dead as well. Char had hoped with each passing minute that her guest was done, that Karen would leave and allow her to wallow in guilt and regret. Both for sending that email and for opening the door at all that morning.

Still, the blonde persisted.

She thought that what had happened to her was connected to what had happened with Tully’s men, that if Char could just talk to her, tell her more, then she could help. Theories and hunches spiraled from her lips as Char's horror grew.

Karen could uncover the truth of what was going on in their city, because there was something more, something deeper at play, and she just needed Char’s help to get more of the picture.

All said, it was a rousing and passionate speech, delivered with all the force of Karen’s confidence in herself and faith in the power of the truth. Char just didn’t know what to say, usually in these situations she’d go with something as close to the truth as she could manage, but with everything that she couldn’t say, what was left just didn’t seem like it would cut it.

Hey yeah, uh remember how you were fairly satisfied with your life a few months ago, well I’m the one who ruined that with my good intentions. You know, that thing they say the road to Hell is paved in. I never got that expression until now, considering my idea of helping apparently comes with a body count.

She leaned forward into her fists, elbows on resting on her knees, subconsciously trying to defend herself from the blame of Karen’s testimony, of her earnest gaze. The only response that Char was able to muster in the end was weak and defeated, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Open and imploring, Karen leaned forward as well, “Please, just tell me what really happened to you that day, what Tully's men did to you.”

Her pale hand stretched out into the space between them, dropping before it could brush against Char’s forearm.

“I don’t want to press charges.”

“I know, and you don’t have to, just tell me the truth.” Karen insisted, nodding her head with only slightest restraint from her eager curiosity.

“Your bosses aren’t going to make me? They’ll keep my name out of whatever it is that they’re doing?”

“If I tell them not to, then they won’t. Matt and Foggy are my friends, and they just want to help, they’re not going to do anything that you’re not comfortable with, Charlie, I promise.”

The earnest expression on Karen’s face joined forces with the guilt of the ruin that Char had unknowingly brought to her life and one could only hold out for so long.

Soon she was spilling what she could to Karen, about how the two men had come in under the ruse of being handymen, how they’d begun smashing things. Ashamed, Char spoke of how they hit her when she tried to stop them from destroying her workbench, where she kept all of her research.

She dutifully provided details about the damages to her apartment, but remained vague over what exactly she had been working on that was so important that she had intervened for it.

Although Karen was pleased at what she heard, Char had to swallow the bitterness of what she really wanted to say. Holding another piece of Karen’s puzzle in her hands, and seeing the misplaced gratitude in her eyes, Char felt hollow and dirty, helpless and complicit in the web of darkness that her houseguest was trying to uncover.

Her story divulged the secrets that Karen wanted, but it wasn’t the confession of truths that Char needed her to hear:

"I’m worried that even if I knew where to start helping, that I wouldn’t. Too scared of losing things that I've suffered so long without, to do what I know is right. I’m scared that if I do try to help, that I’ll only make things worse. I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I’m sorry that I can’t say any of this aloud, that I can’t make amends.”

The silent apology felt like sand in her mouth as she led Karen back to the door, asking for time to decide what to do, Karen promising to keep in touch with any more information.

Char watched through the peephole as Karen made her way down to join Foggy in Sra. Cardenas’ apartment. There she stayed until it became clear that no one else would be passing through the hallway, and instead pressed her forehead into the peeling paint.

She felt somehow more crowded in her empty home than she ever had before, failures and memories puffing up to fill every available surface. So real to her that she expected they’d leave crumbs and used napkins behind as proof of their presence. A pity party tangible enough that she’d have to spend the next morning cleaning it up.

Turning to face the room behind her, Char’s eyes landed on her workbench. Tonight would be another long night of repairing the things that she could, just to try and lose the weight of all the things she couldn’t.

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