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#so it is not a point of question to be raised ever
thevoidstaredback · 2 days
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Tim was curious. Maybe a little addicted to whatever the hell was in that coffee, he's still standing by the point that no other coffee will ever be enough, but that's not the point.
He wants answers. The Justice League want answers. No one has been able to get them. Because Phantom stays in the House of Mysteries, no one but the JLD can actually get time him. The Supers have tried listening out for him, but magic is something they're weak against and therefore can't hear through. Batman has tried to get into the House, but he's been sent everywhere else for his attempts. They would track him down as a civilian, but no one actually knows if he has a civilian disguise. It's very hard to hide hair that starkly white and skin pale enough to be blue.
Regardless, everyone wanted answers and Tim was determined to be the one to get them. Why does Phantom claim to be thirty-eight, fourteen, and eighteen all at the same time? Where did he come from? When did he die? How did he die? What the hell is in his coffee because damn was it good!
Off topic.
Tim had the rest of the Titans return to the tower while he stayed out. It'd be easier to track if he was the only one doing it. Besides, these guys work with Raven, they won't hurt him. Probably.
The fact that Phantom apparently smelled like death was another concern Tim had. Was it because he was dead? And what did Constantine mean that 'the smell lingers'?
More questions kept popping up like goddamn daisies, and there was no answers to clip them down. Tim was getting frustrated, to say the least.
***
Danny made an effort to at least try and help Constantine with the demon problem the building was having. Honestly, it wasn't even that bad, in Danny's humble opinion. The demon was just messing with people, not hurting anyone or stealing anything! He was, at most, planting minor inconveniences everywhere.
That's not technically his monkey, though, and it was most definitely not his circus. He figured he'd offer to be helpful, though, if only so that Constantine would owe him a favor. A favor he already knows how he's going to cash in.
"Why'd you really want to tag along?" Constantine asked Danny while they searched for the demon.
"What do you mean? You offered to bring me along."
"Yeah, but that's because you need to get out of the House more."
"Funny, coming from you."
"I spend more time outside of the House than I do inside." the Brit scoffed, "Now tell me why you agreed to come along. This is demon hunting. You only ever go ghost hunting."
Danny sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. Not that he could feel it, stupid nerve damage. "Deadman's been on my ass about my first trip to Gotham. I would've left to go find some place to crash, but the entire Justice League is also on my ass for some reason! I'd honestly rather not have to face any of them."
"You've been to Gotham?" Constantine asked, "When?"
Danny groaned, "Not you, too!"
"Whoa, okay, okay. You don't need to share with the class."
"Sorry."
"You better be."
"Hey!"
"Now tell my why the JL proper are after you?"
A sigh. "You remember at that meeting when Red Robin mistook my drink for his?"
"Yeah. Hard to forget. You freaked everyone out a little bit."
"Yeah. Turns out they all have questions that I don't want to answer. Avoiding them all has been the best way to not answer."
"You know you can't dodge them all forever."
"I know, but I really don't want to have to explain anything!" he whined, "The questions that they'll end up asking are gonna be really painful to answer."
A raised eyebrow. "How do you know what they'll ask?"
"Because everyone always asks the same things. Worded differently, but still that same."
"Then refuse to answer."
Danny met Constantine's eyes with a deadpan glare. "You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me that the Justice League and their sidekicks will leave me alone if I tell them 'no'?" He shook his head. "Lying's a bad habit, old man."
Constantine rolled his eyes as he went for his lighter, remembering they were were in a no smoke zone and retracting his hand. "Don't sass me, brat. Wonder Woman and Superman, at the very least, would back off. They'd get everyone else to, too."
"What about Batman and his brood?"
"Touche." the man said, "But you can't hide from them forever."
"I can try,"
"But you'll fail."
Another groan. "Can we just get this thing over with? I want to lock myself in the basement and wallow."
Part 5
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heyidkyay · 3 days
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Twenty-Three
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 
Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!
Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx
Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)
> Last update: look back here if you'd like!
Masterlist
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“I said no.”
Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.
“Give me a reason at least?"
I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?
“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.
“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.
I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”
Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.
“One thing after another with you.”
My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”
The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”
I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 
“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.
“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”
I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.
Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.
“Stop.”
“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.
I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”
With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”
I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”
To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 
Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.
“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”
“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”
Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.
“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”
My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.
The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.
He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.
I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 
Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 
But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.
Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.
“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.
“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.
“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”
Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.
Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.
When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.
“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”
I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 
“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 
“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.
Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”
I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-
“Anyone here?”
I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.
George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”
Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.
“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”
“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”
I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”
Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”
I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 
Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”
Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.
“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”
It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.
Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.
See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.
Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 
George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 
Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.
He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.
I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 
The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.
I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.
I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 
“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”
George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”
Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”
I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.
Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”
I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”
He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 
I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”
Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”
I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.
He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”
I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.
During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.
George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.
“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 
He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 
“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.
Or maybe I was just kidding myself.
“Sorry.”
George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”
He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.
“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 
“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.
I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.
“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."
I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.
Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.
I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.
“What?”
George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.
“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 
Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”
My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”
We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.
“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.
I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”
That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”
George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”
He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.
His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”
I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.
The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.
I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.
You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going
(Song: Ride - Future Love)
It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 
I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.
His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.
A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.
Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 
Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 
Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 
There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 
No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 
There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.
Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.
It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.
Jamie had somehow managed it.
Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.
But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.
It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 
He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.
There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.
He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.
Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.
Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.
The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”
Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.
This was it, he supposed.
The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.
He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.
The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.
If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 
He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.
It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.
She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.
Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.
The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.
“You can just hang your-”
“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 
It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.
“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”
He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 
Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”
God, it was so fucking strained.
He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.
“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.
“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”
Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”
She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 
But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.
Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 
There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.
She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 
He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.
He found himself smiling at the thought.
It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.
“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 
Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.
“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.
She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”
Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”
She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”
Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.
The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.
“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 
Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.
She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”
“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.
“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”
Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”
Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.
“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 
He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 
She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 
“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.
“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”
That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.
Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 
“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”
Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.
Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”
Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.
“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 
He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”
He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.
“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”
Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.
“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”
“Said what?”
Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”
Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.
Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”
Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.
“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.
“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”
She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.
“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”
Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.
“Then what?”
Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”
Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.
He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.
It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”
Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.
“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.
“I know.” He answered.
“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.
“I know.”
He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 
"Why didn't you tell me?"
“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.
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miveras · 2 days
Text
Drabble: Silent Treatment | JJK
Pairing: jungkook x reader Genre: established relationship, angst, fluff Word count: 1.6k Warnings: none
masterlist
---
“You’re so fucking lazy,” you scream, “Do you ever just look around and think to clean up after yourself once in a while?”
You pick up his worn, mahogany sweater off the floor and into the bucket you struggle to carry with only one hand. You resist the urge to chuck it at him, ignoring you with a scoff. 
You weren’t this angry to begin with, but you couldn’t help it after seeing his reaction to you. This was the second fight you’d had, and this has been the worst so far. He wasn’t listening to you at all, and you didn’t know what would make him finally cooperate. 
Though you shouldn’t fuel the flame, you keep nagging at him to get up and pointing out every one of his wrongdoings in the past few weeks. 
“Just give me a few days. You know I always clean on weekends since I don’t have time on weekdays,” Jungkook replies with a serious tone. You can see it in his eyes, his anger building up by the second.
“Well if you don’t have time, then why are you on your phone? Why aren’t you doing anything then?” you rambled.
He groans in response, obviously annoyed that you keep going back and forth with harsh blows.
After you guys dated for a year, you thought it’d be a good idea to start discussing the living situations. When he told you that his landlord was raising their prices, it posed the perfect scenario for you to invite him in.
Jungkook moved in just past a month, and sure, he was fine the first two weeks. He cooked for you, cleaned after himself, and tried his best not to make a mess. But recently, you’ve caught him being such a horrible roommate that now, you couldn’t stop the hurtful words coming out of your mouth. 
“Shut up…” he mutters in a quiet voice, avoiding your confrontation. He wished you hadn’t heard it but when he hears your feet dragging against the floor, he knew you did. 
But you didn’t choose to answer him and instead, you gave him the silent treatment. 
He enjoyed the short while that you left and came back with a vacuum. For the rest of the week, you guys cut off contact with each other, living in the same house but not saying anything. You even went as far as to eat at a different time than usual, just to avoid him. You weren’t giving this up easily– you wanted him to care, needed him to. You wished he found this just as important as you did.
Over the past week, all you focused on was your job. At work, all you thought about was him– it got so bad to the point where your work friends started questioning you about your sanity. You were constantly zoning out and the lack of sleep didn’t help at all. 
You asked for help from one of your friends: Ara. While writing a paper about the company’s statistical reports, you had a welcome visitor come in– just who you were looking for.
“Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a bit,” she whines, “I literally missed you so much.” She almost leaps into your arms as soon as she sees you. At least someone was happy to see you. She hugs you so tight you had to push her away for a bit, trying not to pass out from the lack of air.
“Ara, I missed you…” you pout. She notices the sadness behind your eyes, knowing that you’re not usually this affectionate unless you need it. Ara immediately knew something was wrong from the way you were reacting to her presence– though she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
You fess up to her about everything, including the words you and Jungkook exchanged. It was pretty harsh, to say the least. Ara understood you, more than anyone else could (except Jungkook of course). 
Her advice to you was to communicate, but it was way harder than it sounded. You couldn’t do it, not now at least.
You tried your best to avoid him by doing literally anything else: going out to work, cleaning, anything. It was pathetic to anyone who wasn't either of you– everyone knew how much both of you guys loved each other, and everyone knows you guys belong to each other. 
You were too stubborn to admit defeat so you waited for Jungkook– who was probably the only person just as stubborn as you, to apologize first. Predictably, it’s been an ongoing problem for more than just a few days.
Whenever it was time to sleep, your heart raced faster than normal beside him. You had already promised yourself not to lean over and kiss him, admire him, or do anything with him as a form of his punishment. But now, it started to feel like your’s. 
Did he even care about you? Did he even miss you?
You hated the way your body couldn’t relax, feeling every nerve pulse throughout your body. You swallow, wondering how long it’ll take you to fall asleep considering your inability to when you’re not embracing something. 
You shifted slightly, missing the way he looked over to you with a worried expression but not having enough courage to do something about it. 
He sighs, turning the other way as well. He decided not to do anything– he was way too exhausted and stubborn to even face you. He wouldn’t know what to say.
---
The next morning, you wake up with the house all tidy– clothes in their right place, no food in sight, all the dishes clean, but you can’t seem to find the one who did it. He must’ve gone to school already.
The following days were all the same. He goes to school, then you, then avoids each other all day, then comes home just to sleep facing opposite each other. I was tired, no doubt. 
He’s stubborn and you’re stubborn. You’d think you were a perfect match until something like this comes along. It’s funny, you think. 
At some point, all you wanted to do was be in his embrace. To feel his warmth all over you. Oh, how you wanted to just kiss him all over and play with his hair until he falls asleep.
As you think about how much you miss him, you wonder how much or if he even missed you at all. You look beside you– suddenly feeling an overwhelming amount of sadness. You almost forgot how much you missed him. 
Unintentionally, your shoulders shake as you try your best to keep in your weeps quiet and breaths steady. Streaks of tears drop to your cheeks, entangling with your hair. You struggle to stop your sobs from coming out, covering your mouth and wiping your eyes to make sure Jungkook doesn’t wake up because of you.
It was truly your last straw. You couldn’t handle being away from him anymore. 
“Y/N…” he whispers, concern written all over his face. You freeze, not being able to comprehend anything at that moment. 
Still feeling groggy and dazed from his sleep, he rubs his eyes to see you clearer. Once his eyes set on you, a small rush of panic goes through his veins, worriedness taking over his body. He parts his lips in shock and slowly wraps his arms around you– not quite sure what to do. 
You feel his arms snake to your waist, kissing your head and muttering soft phrases to calm you down. You wallow in his embrace, slightly embarrassed about your outburst that had him waking up late at night. In a way, you felt ashamed of yourself and your feelings, suddenly feeling more insecure about yourself as Jungkook continues to hold you in silence. 
He felt wrong reaching for you when it was obvious he was who you were upset about. He had a clue on what was happening to you– what you were worried about, but he decided to stay quiet and bring it up later when you don’t look as hurt. 
“Baby, I’m so sorry. I love you so much..,” his voice trails off as he starts peppering kisses all over your face. You can tell that he felt extremely guilty just by his voice, and his expression sends confirmation of that. 
At this point, you had already stopped crying out of embarrassment, shame, and even comfort from Jungkook.
“I-I’m sorry too,” you sniffle, “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” 
“I didn’t get the chance to apologize sooner. I..I was just scared that you’d stay mad at me– then I wouldn’t know what to do” he explains nervously. Rubbing your arm comfortingly, he asks you to stay with him. “I’ll listen to you from now on.”
“Jungkook, I love you too. I hate fighting with you,” you confess. He only smiles in response, though you can’t see his face when yours is buried in his chest. You hug him back in return– both of you exchanging loving glances at each other. 
Jungkook kisses you in the temple one last time before closing his eyes and relaxing his body.
In a few minutes, you both fall asleep in each other’s comfort. You missed him so much even though you’ve barely been apart and he feels the same exact way. That definitely wasn’t the last argument you’d have, but it’d be the last one where he’d make you cry. 
Ara was right– all it took was a bit of communication.
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Target Acquired Part 2 (NSFW)
Pairings: Keegan. P. Russ x Soldier! Reader
Enemies to Lovers Trope MDNI, NSFW
Summary: In a mission trying to find some important intel with Task Force 141, you are pulled into a dimly lit room, the heavy door slamming shut behind you. Sharp words exchanged, trying to assert dominance over the other, yet an unspoken connection that neither wants to admit, turns into something more intimate.
Disclaimer: MDNI!, NSFW, 18+ This story will contain curse words, war themes, and NSFW sexual themes. I know Keegan and the new game do not have anything to do with each other but for the plot and sexiness sake, no hate and enjoy reading! This is purely fictional!
Word Count: 3,888
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, sexual themes, curse words, sexual acts, blowjobs, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, female orgasm, male orgasm, slight m dom.
Part 1
Keeping your rifle close, you slowly make your way through the dark corridors of this middle of nowhere base. Laswell had said they had some intel on Makarov and needed to infiltrate this base, slowly, quietly, and surly enough Task Force 141 was the perfect fit to go.
Pacing slowly through the corridor, illuminated by only blue light, you had to keep an eye out on both sides, from your left, the windows to the inner base, to your right doors leading to IT rooms, security cameras, and most likely would contain enemies.
It had been months since you had heard or seen Keegan. In all honestly what happened in that abandoned warehouse still finds a way to creep in your mind, especially in moments you don’t want to. Looking to your left to check if the coast is clear, a hand grabs your mouth applying pressure and pulling you in a nearby room. You freeze when you feel a big hand over your mouth, not daring to make a sound. You keep absolutely still, not moving a muscle as your heart starts to race. Even though having years of training the initial shock and the increase of heart rate still settles deep down in your stomach. This is going to be fun you think besides yourself. How could you have not heard them creep behind you. You start evaluating what they might ask or worse getting ready for the Russian torture you were about to endure.
A sigh leaves your lips, you can’t let Laswell down, the Task Force.
No.
Keeping calm and letting your anger stay contained, you elbow your aggressor with the butt of your rifle, turning on him and aiming. Upon looking at your aggressor, seeing him groaning in pain face in his hand he winces “Fuck Y/N”.
You straighten yourself upon hearing your voice you look at his ice-coloured eyes.
"Keegan?"
What is he doing here? How did he find you? For a moment, he stares at you in shock. He was.... surprised to say the least. "What the hell are you doing here? This is Task 141’s deal not yours?" His face remains unmoving but there is a hint of amusement in his eyes. He leans against the wall opposite you, placing his arms behind him. "I came because I wanted to see you." He said in a quiet voice. "Right" you reply rolling your eyes. "You have seen me now, now let me go back to work before you get us both killed" He raises an eyebrow. "Price asked me to come." he answers your question. "Why are you so cold?..." he whispers. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already. Something else is at play here. Having enough of his bullshit you make you way out of this tech room you’re in. "Can I ask you one more question before you go?" You turn towards him, "What is it with you and your questions?" "I just want to know one thing..." There's a strange intensity in his eyes as he stares at you, almost like you are the most fascinating person he's ever seen. "Do you still think we are enemies?" With that you remain complete quiet, completely frozen. At this point in time, were we?
 No.
Your body wants to respond so desperately. Reason creeps through your skin. He hadn’t killed you, hadn’t hurt you last time nor now, as you would have thought. If he wanted to take advantage of you last time he easily would have. Biologically, he's completely stronger than you.
But enemies.
Your mind flashed to the dreams you had about him, how hot he made you feel. How his shoulders felt underneath your nails. How his mask scratched your cheeks. A shaky breath releases past your lips, still yet to respond. He watches, seemingly transfixed by your response. He watches you as your mind lingers on those thoughts you tried to suppress. He could tell what you were thinking... Finally, he speaks again. There's a strange tenderness in his voice, as if he's afraid to ask what he's about to ask but he needs to know the answer. "Have you been thinking about me?" "No" acting childish. "Have you?" You ask wanting to know if he genuinely had. His eyes widen slightly in surprise. He's not used to people not being honest with him. Especially not people like you. "Yes. A lot." He replies. "And I've been thinking how much I want to see you again."
His gaze is steady and intense, like he knows you can see the honesty in his eyes. You weren't expecting that answer. He had been thinking about you. Wait. What if this was all part of a plan. To get into your head. All the compliments. What if-. He shakes his head slightly like he somehow knows what’s going through your mind. "I'm not lying." The intensity in his eyes only grows, but he's trying to conceal it. He's not trying to be intimidating. He wants you to see his vulnerability. "Is this some sort of sick joke" you reply now getting hurt, angry. Was he playing you? He takes a small step toward you, his eyes filling with genuine emotion. "It's not a joke, it's not a trick or game. I'm as serious as I've ever been." His lips curl into a slight smile. "I can't stop thinking about you." His voice is laced with honesty and genuine feeling. He seems like he can't believe he is saying these words, but he can't stop. "Why here? Now? During an OP?” you state voice rising letting frustration eat away at your skin. He got closer to you, intruding on your personal space. “Make me believe you" you say close to him, face serious. You felt like he was lying. "Next time you see me it better not be some kind of sick job or a bullet because I won’t hesitate to pull my trigger" For a moment, he's taken aback by the boldness of your request. But he's not shocked. He steps forward again, this time closing the distance completely between you two. He stares you down, a small grin spreading across his lips. "I promise you... when I next see you, you won't be holding a gun. Or anything else for that matter." He speaks as if you are a part of his very soul, as if you already know exactly what he means. You look at his eyes. Captivating. You had only seen his face through the briefing never in real life. Curiosity killing you wanting to know what he looks like. Want to lift his mask up feel his skin. Sensing your eyes trying to take every detail, he can tell right away that you're curious about what he looks like beneath his mask. He's not used to this kind of attention, especially not from someone like you. Normally, you're so bold and confident, yet here you are, studying every aspect of him as if you're drawn to him. He's not used to this kind of vulnerability coming from someone like you. "Can I ask you a question?" "Mm" you respond with a whisper. "What if you saw me again but without the mask?" He asks. His eyes are fixed on yours and you sense the intensity of his gaze even from behind the mask. Its as if he's studying you, trying to see inside of you, hoping you'll let him. Hesitating to lift your hand towards his face. You were so close. You touch your fingers against his cheek feeling the warmth radiating from the mask. Holding his full cheek in your palm you slowly glide your finger where his lips rest underneath the mask. Eyes getting heavy, breathing non-existent. His eyes bore into yours watching you study him. His breath catches as your touch meets his skin. He doesn't pull away or try to stop you, on the contrary, it feels like he's allowing you to study every aspect of him. There is a calmness in his eyes that you've never seen before. He is vulnerable at this moment, exposing his entire being to you. A small smile spreads across his lips as your finger traces his mouth. He doesn't blink as he looks into your eyes. He is waiting for you to make the next move. Your hand fingers his mask underneath his shirt pulling it up slowly. He doesn’t move to stop you, but instead he takes in small inhale of air as you pull the mask up. Finally, edge of the mask in your hand. You stop and think.
Beat...
Beat...
You pull the mask up until it reaches his nose finally seeing his lips. Plump lips with a sharp jaw. Clean shaven and a few scars adorn his face. In a trance you touch his skin and both of you let out a breath you both have been holding but he doesn't move, even though you can see his entire body tremble. He is breathing hard, and he is enjoying this. He closes his eyes, and he lets out another deep inhale as you touch his skin. You trace your finger down his Adams apple and finally graze your thumb on his bottom lip. As he had his eyes closed, your hand wrapped around his throat applying just the right pressure, making him release a staggered deep groan. Fuck, your eyes flutter slightly. That sounded...hot. "Oh god... " Your touch is electrifying, causing him to tremble all over his body. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can barely catch his breath. The slight pressure around his throat feels good somehow. He opens his eyes and looks back at you. The moment his eyes meet yours, the entire tension is doubled. His hand wrap around your waist wanting to pull you closer, dick straining against his pants. He wants to ravage you, but he loves the small teasing you’re providing him. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. Your body is pressed up against his, and he can feel your heart racing. He can't help but stare into your eyes, enjoying the moment, enjoying the way you make him feel. His hands move up your sides gradually, moving ever closer to the waist of your uniformed pants. As his fingers fondle the waist or your cargos, your thumb traces his bottom lip as he opens his mouth and grabs your thumb in between his teeth, slowly closing his lips around it and sucking on it. His lips are soft and warm, and you can't help but let out a small groan of pleasure. His hands are exploring your body, getting ever closer to the bottom of your jeans. "Fuck Keegan" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. He looks into your eyes, his own now filled with such desire and need. "Say my name again..." he whispers. You moan his name "Keegan" small heavy breaths leaving your lips. His own meeting your neck. His body tenses slightly at the sound of your voice. He is overwhelmed with desire, and you can feel it in every part of his frame. Every move he makes now is calculated, as if he's going slowly on purpose to not lose the feeling. "Again..." his voice is barely audible, and you can feel his body trembling. "Keegan" you straight up moan now. Getting lost in his voice, in your desires.
His desires. "Again..." he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. Your body quivers and he press’ up against you even closer, feeling every inch of your body against his. Warmth was spreading all throughout your body, as he pushed you even closer towards him, chest plates hitting, making you feel his thickness rub against your thigh. Fuck he was hard. You rubbed your thigh against him as he leaned against a cabinet that was just behind you, on the left side of the room. The heat between your bodies is so intense, it's almost unbearable. The feeling of it is driving you both wild. His hands travel even higher, inching up your thighs. His touch is incredibly soft and tender at first then becoming more forceful. He's enjoying the teasing, letting the intensity build up slowly and not even trying to hide the fact that he is getting turned on. Getting the courage your hand travels towards his bulge and you wrap your hand around it. He hisses at the feeling of your small hand. Grabbing your wrist, you stop shocked at what might have been an overstep. Holding your wrist he unbuttons his black cargo pants, unzipping them, eyes intensely on your face, eyes heavy lidded wanting to see how you might react. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He freed himself from his restraint, adjusting himself now to being free. Your mouth instantly watered at the sight of how big he was. He stroked himself before placing your hand, that was still bound by his wrist, around him wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft. He released a staggered breath as you begun to stroke him. His eyes closed head dropping towards his chest. Upon stroking your thumb felt his wetness on his tip, which you took as a sign to spread it around his head, lip between your teeth. Moaning under your ministrations you couldn’t help but look at him. Still with his helmet on, eyes closed, panting, dick in your hand stroking him and shamelessly mask atop his face not concealing his identity well, at least the lower part of his face, as the deep soft groans leave his lips. "That’s it baby" he whispers. "Just like that" he encourages, making you want to please him more. You couldn’t take it anymore. Eyes now full of lust, mouth thick to the brim with salvia you made you way down on your knees and kissed his head. He opened his eyes at the soft feeling of your lips against his cock. He couldn’t believe it; his mind was playing tricks on him. He saw you kissing his cock making your way down to his base than licking your way up to this shaft. “Fuck” he whispered. If you kept teasing him like that he was about to - "Ah" he groans eyes tightly closing upon feeling your wet, warm mouth sucking him off. "Jesus Y/N". Eyes closed you take him in deeper in your mouth wanting to feel him at the back of your throat, but he was so thick it was seeming to be difficult.
You continue wetting his cock with your tongue, going up and down, his hand now wrapped in your hair bun, although with how tight he’s holding it, it won’t remain a bun much longer. He angles his hips to go in deeper, but you hold him in your fist as you start to feel consumed by him, air refusing to enter your lungs. "Take it baby. That's it. Good girl." he pushes his hips toward your face. You felt him hit your gag reflex holding your head with his hands until finally pulling away, a line of spit still hanging from your lips to his cock, eyes watery. He pulls you up standing on your feet and quickly goes to unbutton your pants. Pushing them of your legs you hesitate, as you were both still on a mission. He reassures you that no one is going to enter, and if so, those who do see would leave as they would see what you were doing. They would think that a guard on duty just got lucky. Turning sides, now you’re the one leaning against the metal cabinet. His lips meet the underside of your ear. "Y/N" he moans as he slightly nips your skin. "Can I touch you?" He asks hand resting on your hip, tracing your navel wanting to go down, and feel how wet you have gotten and gather it on his fingers. "Please" you whisper. "Please Keegan. I need you" Your pleading drove him crazy, pushing himself towards you. Bare cock rubbing against your stomach. As he couldn’t tease himself enough, he asked "Where do you need me?" lips just inches away from your lips. You hesitate. Is he really going to make you tell him. "Y/N" he whispers using his other hand to lift your face, meeting your heavy-lidded watery eyes. He looks serious. "I asked you a question. Where do you need me?".
Your mouth parts, pussy clenching into nothing, clit screaming for just the right of amount of pressure. Slick now dripping down your thighs.
“Fuck!” you exclaim, feeling like you’re going crazy. Never in your years have you ever felt like this. Felt warm like this or gotten wet like this. It was driving you insane. "I need you in me. I need to feel you stretch me. I need to feel how thick you are inside of me" you confess. Upon your confession he pushes himself harder against you, your ass hitting deeper against the cabinet his fingers finally pushing on the bundle of nerves between your legs earning a moan from your lips. He feels how wet you are and nearly looses himself, his cock twitching.
He rubs your folds not wanting to waste anymore time away from you. He slowly pushes his finger inside you, wet and ready for him your pussy takes his finger with ease. You both moan at the intrusion. Keeping his finger there, he breathes hard against you, feeling your warmth wrapping around him.
Finally, his lips meet yours in a soft kiss, both mouths slightly agape, his eyebrows furrowed at your heat as he starts to move his fingers back out, then pushing them back in. He increases his pace, fingers now dripping wet and inserts another. His fingers are thick, long, and strong not compared to your small ones, filling you up in all the right places. You grab his arm feeling the bulging muscle of his biceps. "Keegan" you moan. "You like that Y/N?" he asks as his pace continues to increase. "You like my fingers stretching you out, fingering you huh?"
"Yes" you exclaim "Good girl" he kisses you. "Getting ready to take me inside you." You nod at that wanting to take his cock. He lifts you up on the cabinet and aligns himself to your entrance. Fuck he was thick, the sight alone with his head stroking your pussy nearly made you cum right than and there. "Ready princess?" he asks, and he moves you closer to him if that was even possible. "Yes" you say as you wrap your hands around his neck. The initial push was electrifying. He was thick and it made you feel like you were on fire. Hot moans coming from you meet his ear, not until he grabs your face in his hand and kisses you again. He continues to push into you as his lips are against yours breathing deeply. The stretch was nothing compared to his fingers. You couldn’t help but call out to him. "Shh, its ok" he replies. "You’re doing so good for me. You’re taking it so well." He says as he finally pushes all the way into you. You felt like you couldn’t move. He begun to pull out and push back in. Looking at you he saw his world. He wanted to savor the moment deep in his memory. How your eyebrows creased, how your lips were parted how he wanted to make you feel like this. Him. Only him. His thrusts continued, wet sounds all over the room driving the both of you wild. "Keegan" you call to him. "Yes" he replies worried that he might have hurt you. "I’m close" you reveal to him. It was music to his ears. His thrusts continued with depth and rhythm edging you. "Cum for me. Cum for me princess. Let me feel you. That’s it" he continued to whisper for you. A static sound was heard from the left side of your chest plate startling the both of you. It hit a second time.
" Bravo 8, you ok. Over?" You want to stop body going rigid. Fuck, it was Simon. Keegan continues to push into you. "Keegan wait". "Bravo 8, Are you with us? Over" you hear again less patient from the radio com. Fuck it’s been a while since you replied or radioed your team. Keegan looks at you with a smirk, "Don’t worry it hasn’t even been 15 minuets. They worry for you too much". At that Keegan thrust deep into you making your head roll back, making you forget your worries. "You’re going to make me cum, princess" he whispers in your ear. His thrusts increase in motion build up wanting finally to release.
"Y/N" now you hear your own name not your call sign.
Its Price. "Are you ok? Over."
You’re a whimpering mess around Keegan as he continues to thrust into you. He pulls slightly back, finger against his lips showing you to stay quiet. Confused your brows furrow, until you see the devilish look cast over his eyes as he grabs the button of your radio com, and he pushes into you, deep, feeling his cock hit your cervix keeping you in place. He smirks as he waits for you to reply to your captain. You bite your lip trying to regain some composure for your voice not to give away of your activities.
This was your captain, your team. "All good Captain. Over" you say as Keegan smirks and releases the button sending your message. Fuck that was hot. You couldn’t hold on much longer and you clench around Keegan. You moaned as he whispers in your ear "You want me to fill you up?" Your radio com responds "Fuck, where are you?" The captain states leaving the honorifics behind. "Fuck" this can’t be happening, not now. Not when you’re so close to cumming. Keegan's statement makes you go feral, imaging his thick cum painting your walls, dripping out of you. Keegan presses the com button,
"West Wing" you reply breathlessly. "You’re going to cum for me huh, going to get filled up with my cum in the west wing" he taunts in your ear. "I’m coming for you. Over" Keegan laughs at your captain’s message. "Captains’ join’ in on the fun huh." he smirks, before feeling you clench against him. "Fuck Y/N." His thrust continues, panting heavily as he grabs your hips and presses your com. "Tell him you’re doing just fine." He whispers in your ear as he fucks deeper into you, jealousy laced through his teeth.
"You’re way over than ok." He pushes deeper. "You will meet them at the south wing nearing the backdoor of the grounds”.  You repeat breathless what he says to you.
"Cause at the moment, you are about to come around my cock" Keegan taunts as he gives one last big push, cock pulsating in you. You feel his hot warm cum hit deep inside you and he releases his load into you. You can’t help but moan with pleasure as you clench around him, your own orgasm hitting you, releasing. His hips still deep in you his heavy breathing meets yours. "Meet you there" is heard over the comms. "You sure you’re ok?" captains voice asks again "Never better" you reply breathlessly.
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dayurno · 3 days
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i just saw what you reposted about kevin being the problem child of doomed homoerotic relationships and nora saying that’s something kevin would do we already have solid proof of jean and basically all of aftg to prove he’s a siren to troubled men do u have any hc about how that happened? especially with kandrew i love them sm they’re truly one of my favorite aftg pairs but like in the question i always assumed it was andrew but now ik it’s kevin it almost makes it better idk?!? like a desperately devoted andrew plus being hopelessly in love with kevin and he obviously was doing it to andrew and neil but imagine if on a smaller scale it was also the rest of the foxes?? but also i can’t tell if he truly was the problem child or just extremely sheltered from and didn’t know how to interact with people so when he’s direct and earnest they fall in love on the spot  
I REALLY DONT KNOW AT ALL................... i think part of it is kevin being earnest and open about it in a way someone who hasnt been raised in a cult Wouldn't be but it's just really also. the kind of people he's doing it to.... i mean jean at the point he met kevin he'd been homeschooled with violent parents his only friend was his sister and then again jean was literally raising her on his 13 year old shoulders. and then kevin looks at him, and smiles at him, and asks to learn french, and says "i don't want to lose you". has anyone told jean that before???????? has there been anyone, ever, to say you are something worth keeping? you are something i can't lose? YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND. it's not just that kevin is a problem child it's that he chooses to say these things when you have literally no way to defend yourself
and the same for andrew are you crazy........ you're worth it. DO YOU UNDERSTAND...... has anyone ever told andrew that before? you're worth the trouble? i won't give up? i'll stay right here even if you fumble and kick and scream and refuse to play with me? I MEAN IT'S SERIOUSLY SICK. it's sick. it's horrible. he's so earnest. why is he like this. no wonder andrew was fighting wars and pulling knives this is the first time someone looked him in the eye and said no matter what you do i'm Not going to give up on you. and then he didn't even when andrew was a real fucking cunt about it. should we all just explode.
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cressthebest · 21 hours
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Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 20
chapter 35:
1. 😟 james’ first kill had a wife and two little girls. i- these chapters always start off by hitting hard
2. “James, who is—for some reason—glaring at Frank like he's kicked his cat. James doesn't even have a cat. His cat is dead. Has been for years, so Sirius isn't sure what that's all about.” 😭😭😭😭 girl wtf
3. “Pandora marches off after the mayor with the clear determination to organize that poor man's entire life, which maybe he needs, honestly.” queen 👑
4. girl, why is james so possessive of sirius around frank?
5. ALICE MENTION!!!
6. awww james is jealous. that’s actually kinda funny
7. poor frank is caught up in a lot of jealousy
8. i’m far too worried for effie and monty. like, unreasonably worries
9. i- bernice was a mother to an INFANT. i- all these people who are young parents fucking hurt. i know that’s the point, but it hurts
10. ew, we have to deal with the malfoys and blacks i don’t want to do this
11. “For example, Regulus did not understand when he was a child that Bellatrix is fucking insane. He understands now, of course” 😭😭
12. 😧 bellatrix just- got away with murder. and she did it just to make her younger sister’s life a little easier. he didn’t even do anything wrong. i- regulus is right in calling her fucking insane
13. “Narcissa is not, and never has been, fragile. Oh, she pretends to be, sure, but she's as dangerous as her sisters, especially because you don't expect it.”
14. 💕💕NARCISSA💕💕 asexual lesbian queen
15. “”I want to raise a child. He wants to train a Victor."”
god, that hurts. lucius needs to go rot in a ditch
16. i hate bellatrix, but she’s honestly a pleasure to read about
17. 😧😳 FUCKING WILD. every time reg tells someone not to touch james or he’ll [do something], nobody ever believes him, then he follows through with exactly what he threatened. also, maybe bella needed her hand to be stabbed with a fork
18. i love that sirius has no context, but he is IMMEDIATELY gonna throw fists with bella, no questions asked
19. REMUS LUPIN!! HE RETURNS!!!! MY LOVE!!
20. AWWW PANDORA IS A QUEEN!! THIS IS A SURPRISE FOR SIRIUS
21. SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP!! HIS WORDS ARE “HI SWEETHEART” I AM NOT FREAKING OKAY
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inuhalfdemon · 3 days
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“Have you…- did you ever have sex?”
The radio, still playing the soft notes of something jazz briefly rattled with an irritating static, before tuning back in clearly to what had been playing. Alastor was holding his whiskey glass, still close to his smiling face, but his eyes were sharply on her.
“Isn’t that a rather…distasteful question, Adeline?” He held one eyebrow raised.
“What?” She wasn’t really sure why he seemed so bothered by it, but he was almost glaring at her despite the grin he held in place. “You could just skip it…” She told him. “And, I really only meant to ask if you had while you were human. Is it really that big of a deal?”
He slumped into the couch, taking a dragging swallow from his whiskey, all the while holding his other hand up, giving her one raised long and very pointed middle-finger.
“Oh, wow.” She said, laughing. “You really didn’t like that question.”
“No.” He said darkly. “I didn’t.” The radio filter completely absent from his voice for a moment.
Fanfiction excerpt from Chapter 6 of "Dirty Dealings"
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rexlroze · 7 hours
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𝟐 — 𝐃𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Hobie Brown / SpiderPunk x Fem! Reader
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Use of Y/N, No physical description of reader other than mostly height comparison. Swearing, Mention of alcohol, drinking, vomiting, Fluff.
𝑁𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑔𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠
𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡
A/N: I honestly had to rethink this over and over again so many times even though I was like half way thru the damn chapter so that's why making this took me long, also the fact I have the attention span of a child. I was really not sure about this whole thing cuz it kinda felt too sudden but hopefully, it turned out fine? for me it did tbh but like. *blink* yk? Or maybe it's just because I'm not confident in my fucking writing skills and need validation for every damn step I take<3 But anyways, I made half of the notes for this chapter during math class and the teacher caught me so that too (Spoiler Alert: I got sent to the principal's office :3) but that's besides the point. Also if some of the characters were a little OOC, I'm very sorry- I tried my best to make them as accurate as possible (some inaccurate shit tends to get on my nerve, mostly if it's produced by me) annnnd I need to stop ranting💀. I don't take requests nor do I plan on doing so in the future. Happy reading! 😉
Chapter 2 >>> Chapter 3
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Each Stroke of paint is smooth, filling the wall with a little more color than before. The bristles of the paint brush gently swipes over the wall. Music flowed into your ears and through, making you hum.
The atmosphere was calming, like nothing could ever—
“Whatcha listenin’ to?” A teasing voice appeared beside you making you jump and your shoulder tense up.
Right. You forgot he was still here. Pushing your headphones off, “a song.” You answered flatly, turning away from him, your back facing Hobie as you dipped your paint brush into the thick minty liquid that was within the metal bucket and slid the brush across the wall.
“Really? I'll have to check it out when I get home.”
You scoff at the sarcasm in his tone.
After yesterday, he helped you with a little cleaning. You thought he was probably going to dip and disappear from your life after that so when he returned the next day (today), it did surprise you a little. He's been just hanging around. You don't know why, he doesn't owe you anything. “Why are you helping me again?” You turned to him with a quirked eyebrow.
“Mate, you've asked me that like 4 times already.” 
“And each time, I haven't gotten a proper answer.”
This time, he's the one to scoff. “Is it that bad to want to just help somebody?”
“You're dodging the question again.” You say in a sing-song voice.
He holds his hands up in surrender, “aight aight. I'm just tryna help out a friend of a friend, y'know? Plus. I ain't' hurtin’ anyone, right?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it means, love.”
You sighed, your arm falling to your side. Your other hand coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “okay. I'll admit, I'm being a little… douchey.” You say, biting your lip, “But I can't say that I don't appreciate your help, and company.”
“Little's an understatement.” Hobie quipped, snickering to himself which made you throw a side glance in his direction. An innocent smile spread across his face. 
You rolled your eyes turning back to the wall to continue what you were doing. Hobie took it as a sign to pursue his side of the wall.
A small spot was left just at the top of the wall making you push yourself up on your tiptoes, trying to get to the empty white patch on top of the wall.
Hobie, who was distracted by his own work, took a glance at you when he heard a few groans of frustration. Seeing you so frustrated over such a small thing brought a small smirk to his face. He settled his brush down into the paint bucket and made his way to you, your head turning to him when you caught a glimpse of him in the corner of your eye extending his hand, beckoning for you to give him the brush you held.
You raised your eyebrow but gave in, settling the brush into his extended hand, your fingers grazing his palm before you quickly withdrew your hand to your side.
He stepped forward closer to you and the wall, making you step back away, giving him space as he took care of the last white spot on the wall. 
“Thank you,” you gave him a small smile and a nod.
“No problem.” He returned the smile. You two stood there holding eye contact. His eyes were as pretty as they were in the poster. No. Prettier. You thought, why? You didn't know. 
You quickly cleared your throat and looked away to look at your progress the two of you had made whilst he sunk the paint brush back into the depths of the mint paint after filling the small white spot with paint.
The two of you had already completed three walls, the last wall was just about half done. The only other thing left to paint was the closet, you'd get to that later.
“You wanna go get a drink?” Hobie suddenly asked, turning his head towards you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather vest.
You rubbed a hand over your jaw, the thought of a break was very enticing right about now since you'd been busy for about a solid 4-5 hours. You answered after a second or two of silence. “Sure. I could use a little break.”
“Good cuz I know an awesome pub around here.”
“Lead the way.” You said extending your arm towards the door.
The two of you walked side by side, Hobie’s gaze fixed on the rock he kept kicking in front of him during your walk, yours lost in the sky that was split into hues of yellow and pink.
“So, I haven't really seen you around here before.” Hobie suddenly spoke up after his rock companion got left behind, a small pout formed on his face which disappeared as quickly as it appeared when it did but obviously he wasn't going back just to retrieve a rock.
“Just moved here about a few days ago, used to live in York with my parents.” You answered, crossing one of your arms behind your head.
“Hm.” He nodded before silence fell over the two of you again, seems neither of you knew what to say. Your eyes lingered on the sky, watching the purple mixing into the pink and orange.
This time, you decided to break the silence. “So, where are we going?” Your head turned towards him, tilting your head a little.
“It's a surprise.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders.
“It's a bar.”
“Your point?”
“I mean, how ‘exciting’ can a bar really be?” You snorted.
“Depends, you ever been in an underground pub?”
“No— say what now?” You gawked, turning to Hobie with wide eyes who just smirked and lifted his chin. When he didn't continue elaborating further, you decided to poke at the subject. “Wait, c'mon. You gotta tell me more.”
Chuckling, he let out a low whistle. “No, I don't.” 
“You can't just tell me we're going to an underground bar then shut up. Like- what if I get kidnapped or sumn?” You exaggerated, throwing your hands up in the air.
“I'll be right there beside you, love, won't even let anyone lay a hand. Good?” He proposed, playfully tilting his head a little.
“You're torturing me.” You groaned.
“Maybe that's my plan.” He shrugged, flicking invisible lint off his jacket.
“...”
“How do I know you're not the one who's trying to kidnap me?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Doesn't it seem oddly weird you just randomly appear at my parlor, offer me help and now you're taking me to a very secret underground bar.”
As Hobie heard you ramble on, he couldn't help but start to chuckle. His chuckle twisting into a flown blown laugh as you threw a playful punch in his shoulder.
“Tell me. You have trust issues or something?” He chuckled, wiping an unshed tear from his eye. “Just have a little patience. It'll be worth it, I promise. I mean, you can always go back if you’re too paranoid.”
“Hilarious.”
“I'm being serious, I can walk you back right now if you'd like.” He offered, slowing down.
Your lips parted as you thought about it for a quick second before shaking your head. “Nah, no thank you. I'm coming along.”
“Hm, suit yourself.” He shrugged looking back to the front of the street. Your footsteps falling in sync with one another once more.
Silence taking over, punctuated by the honking motorcycles and cars and the birds chirping.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Twelve minutes later, the both of you stood before an abandoned 2 storey office building. It looked like it hadn't been used in decades with its cracked windows which reflected the creamy moonlight. Graffiti turned the concrete structure into a riot of colors, doodles, swear words and penises with overgrown vines that clawed their way up the sides. 
As Hobie strode towards the door, his hand inches away from pushing the door when you suddenly spoke up, “it's in there?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” He said turning his head towards you, “I know it don’ look it but I promise it's on purpose. Keeps the coopers away.”
“Ehh… I don't know. I'm starting to believe the whole “you're trying to kidnap me” thing.” Skepticism traced your voice.
“Oh, c’mon. Just trust me.”
“That's what I'm scared to do.” You scoffed. “This looks like a place where serial killers would stuff their victims in.”
“Dunno, never tried digging around. Two bodies at best?” He analyzed jokingly, covering up his laugh with a cough as he saw you pale a little. 
“You're not funny.”
“Dunno ‘bout that, love.” He snickered. “You comin’?” He didn't wait for you to answer before he disappeared into the building.
You crossed your arms tapping your foot, not wanting to follow him in because of your stubbornness but something about standing alone sent chills down your spine.
I'm gonna kill him. You quickly sprinted into the office-like building following Hobie's direction, running away from something you don't even know.
You find yourself walking behind Hobie who walks up to an elevator across the room. The walls were crumbling, chairs laidon the floor, tables flipped upside down “Why the hell is this place so run down?”
“It's a meeting ground made by the government, basically all the corrupted and secret shit that they wanted no one knowing happened around here but word got out. Eventually punks started graffiting the grounds, protesting, sneaking in and eventually drove them out to who knows where. Started using it as a club and a speakeasy after cuz it was spacious grounds. Coopers don’ blink an eye towards this direction cuz they're bloody cowards.” He casually explains (leaving out the part where he whooped their asses and corrupted all their data with a chip he made as Spider-Punk but you didn't need to know that.) 
He pressed a few buttons which opened up the elevator doors. Wordlessly, he gestured to you to get in.
“And you know this how?” You lifted an eyebrow climbing into the elevator, he followed suit.
When you asked that, it brought a proud smile to Hobie's face, “I was one of the punks.” He answered nonchalantly without glancing at you, the pockets of his leather vest stuffed with his hands. The elevator door slid back together locking the both of you in.
“Of course you were,” you said it like it was one of the most obvious things in the world for which you got a little nudge in the shoulder from his elbow. He pressed a button on a small keypad beside the door making the elevator flow down.
The elevator finally stopped making a small chiming sound after what seemed like minutes but in reality. It had been barely more than 40 seconds. Guess time just slowed down when you're in the presence of awkward silence… or Hobie.
The doors opened up letting bright neon lights seep in and illuminate your face. The ‘bar’ (which looked more like a rave) was more lively than most bars you've gone to. Vibrant blends of pink, blue, and yellow casted over you.
“W'dya think?” A voice shouted over the blasting songs, Hobie's voice. You just stared at him wide eyed, unable to make up a coherent response. “You'll get used to it.” He nudged you before stepping out the elevator, signaling for you to follow him.
You shook yourself out of your daze and promptly caught up with him. You swore to god you've put way too much trust in someone you met a day ago. Maybe not even a complete 24 hours yet but you're too deep in and too stubborn to turn around.
“You come here often then?” You arched an eyebrow in his direction, his gaze straight ahead but he tilted his head a little to meet yours.
“Occasionally. Usually—” He was cut off by someone who called out to him in the crowd. “Yo, it's Hobie everyone!”
People glanced in your (his) direction, waving at him and cheering him on. Said man waves back, winking in the direction of a few gals who probably fainted with how excited they got but you didn't bother checking.
“Mr.Popular, huh?”
“That's one way to put it. I come here to hang out often so I know people.”
“Do you usually take all your girls here?” You suddenly blurted out, heat clawed its way up your neck when you processed what you just had said. He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress the shit-eating grin that came onto his face. “Shut up, I didn't mean it like that.” You grumbled, turning your head away from him. 
“I didn't say anything,” he shrugged, feigning obliviousness. 
“You implied it.”
“Did I?”
Something about his tone just wanted to make you sink into the floor and become one with the secretundergroundbarraveparty (whatever it was) or maybe punch that stupid smile off his face but you didn't do either. Instead you continued making your way through the crowd with him until you reached a bar. Several drinks lined up on several shelves behind the counter. You could tell that it wasn't just some cheap liquor crap either. It made you wonder where they had gotten it from.
He sat down on one of the stools, locking eyes with you before patting the stool beside him. Before you could say anything, your body moved on its own, settling yourself on the stool. Nobody else was really seated near your guys, most of the people were already drunk and partying.
Hobie leaned back against nothing but the air particles, his eyes resting on you when you stirred a little, turning to face him, “what?” you tilted your head.
“Nothin’, just thinking.” He gave you one of his small smiles before his attention averted to the raven-haired girl that walked through one of the doors that was hidden behind the counter. Her eyes fell on the two of you making them pop open, “are my eyes deceiving me or are those my most favorite people? Y/N, you didn't tell me you were in town!” She beamed.
“Yuri?” Your eyes harmonized hers. “I was gonna surprise you but… wait, what're you doing here?”
“Me? I work here, babe. The real question is what are the two of you doing here, hmm?” Yuri gaped, leaning against the counter. Her arms crossed over it.
“He dragged me into this.” You said pointing your thumb at the man beside you, making him gasp dramatically, “nah nah, I see how it is.” He drawled, turning his head away from you.
“Drama queen.” You accused, punched him in his bicep. The two of you acted like you had known each other for years by now.
“Ooh, you two must be close.” Yuri cooed, tilting her head, her cheek squished up against her hand as she watched the two of you interact.
“We met yesterday,” you scoffed, turning down any further suggestions that she could blurt out.
“Is that supposed to make a difference?” Yuri sassed, wiping a glass mug down with a cloth that was under the counter.
“Yuri.” Your eyebrows knitted together making her smirk, “what? I'm being serious.” She smirked.
“If this is you being serious, I don't wanna know what you being unserious is like.” Yuri snickered, placing two mugs in front of the two of you. Her body twisted around pulling out one of the alcoholic drinks out of the shelf and shaking the bottle before pouring it into your glass. “So darling, how've you been, how's Camden treating you so far?” She asked, pushing the two mugs across the counter towards you too.
“It's been alright. I've been working on my parlor recently. Otherwise… nothing special. Oh, Spider-Punk also saved my brain from spewing out like three days ago so that's something,” You shrugged when you suddenly heard Hobie choke on his drink, his beer going down the wrong pipe making him cough harshly. You and Yuri raise an eyebrow in his direction.
“Bloody hell. Sorry, this- this drink is really strong,” He sputtered, clearing his throat. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, tears stinging his eyes.
“Okay…” Your tone contained skepticism in it, “you good now?” You asked to which he nodded. “Fantastic.”
You nodded, turning back to Yuri. A silence washing over the three of you even with the blast of music and chitter chatter in the back.
Yuri opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it when she heard the door squeak open. A brunette walked through, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the counter. “Hey!”
“Flash!” Yuri squeaked, her eyebrows knitting together. “You're not supposed to drink during your fucking shift!”
“Bloody hell. Chill, mom.” He rolled his eyes, voice awfully slurred leaning his hip against the counter but miserably failing after almost falling.
“Ay,” Hobie lifted his head in a greeting while you sat beside him thinned-lipped.
“Oh my god. Hobie, is that you my man?” Flash exclaimed, throwing his arms out in a hug but unable to reach him due to the counter that separated them so going for a high-wave instead that he missed by a head.
“The one and only,” Hobie snickered, grabbing Flash's wrist and guiding him through the high five properly.
Flash clicked his tongue, turning his head towards you, “Ooh, and who's this pretty little thing?” He smirked, grabbing your hand that laid atop the counter and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You gave him a polite smile, retracting your hand. You opened your mouth to introduce yourself but Hobie beat you to it. “Y/N Y/L/N. We met yesterday.”
“What he said,” you dipped your chin in agreement.
“A pretty name for a prettier lady,” Flash winked at you when Yuri pushed him away with her whole hand pressed up against his face, “don't mind this idiot. He always gets like this when he's woozy.”
“‘m not woozy.” Flash grumbled, pushing her hand off his face and crossing his arms over his chest like a child who didn't get what they wanted.
“Sure you aren't.” Yuri rolled her eyes, wiping the black marble counter with gold veinings etched into them with a scruffy cloth tinted a light brown at hand (you assumed that it used to be white once.)
“Just a little bit, alright?” He grunted.
You tune in and out of the conversation thinking about what you could do back at the parlor, what you still need to do and improve, how you're going to start developing and promoting your work. Making a website could do me goods, never hurts to try. Maybe I should make a Facebook page— You jumped out of your twilight zone when a pair of fingers snapped right in front of your face.
“Welcome back to earth, love.” Hobie's voice was the first one you processed. 
“Sorry, just got some things on my mind.” You ran a hand over your head till the nape of your neck, letting it settle there.
“I can see that,” Hobie took the empty glass of beer in your hand and replaced it with a refilled one. Your eyes lingered on his hands, watching them with precision before your eyes found their way back to your glass, staring at the foam floating at the top of the glass. You brought the glass up to your lips letting the liquid burn down your throat.
Hobies eyes lit up with amusement, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Calm down, love. The drink ain’ gonna run away from you.” He quipped, his fingers gently wrapping around your forearm pulling the drink down from your lips. Your body slightly tensed up as his warmth seeped into your skin and throughout your body, your eyes meeting his.
Hobie's amused smirk seemed to drop into a line when he noticed the change in the atmosphere. His eyes stuck on yours, yours on his.
The tension suddenly drowned out by the cackle of Yuri who was watching Flash flirt (and fail miserably) with some gals that sat a few seats away from the two of you. His hand quickly untangled itself from your arm finding its way back onto the counter. You let out a breath of relief thankful for brief distraction.
Flash trudged back to where the three of you were, his shoulders slumped with a small pout planted on his face after the girls left with scowls and disgust etched on their faces.
“No luck?” Yuri teased.
“Shut up.” Flash huffed, snapping his head away from her to which Yuri hummed smugly.
Hobie reassured Flash by giving him a small pat on his back whispering some words into his ear that seemed to lighten him up. 
“Hey, up for some dare or drink?” Flash beamed suddenly, his movement more animated than before.
“What?” you tilt your head quizzically. 
“Dare or drink, do the dare or chug a beer.” Flash summarized with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.
“Oh no, I should probably get back in a couple of minutes,” you interjected, waving your hands in the air dismissively. 
Yuri frowned, “c'mon babe, my shift is almost over. It won't hurt you to have a little fun, y'know?”
“I really shouldn't-” You protested but quickly folded with Yuri's small pout the alcohol in your system. I'm so gonna regret this later.
“Chug, chug, chug!” The three chanted while your hazy eyes tried to focus on the mug of beer in front of you. This might've been your fifth drink of the night, but could you blame yourself? You were definitely NOT texting your fucking ex that you missed him (given by our dear Flash). Not in a million years, but it was more tempting than chugging another beer and inevitably using the next person near you as a vomit bucket.
“Fuck, 'm gonna vomit.” You slurred, putting the glass mug down on the marble counter. Somehow, even with four and a half beers in your system, you could kind of think properly.
Kind of.
“It's the beer or the dare, babe.” Yuri reminded, wiggling her finger.
“Mhm,” you pinched the bridge of your nose trying to rub the blur out of your eyesight. “I-I’m going to find the bathroom.” You shook your head, standing up clumsily. You swallowed the saliva that had built up in your mouth but it didn't help with your slurring at all.
You just whipped around and showed yourself the way towards the bathroom which you had no idea where the fuck it was simply disappearing into the crowd.
“That's not even the direction of the bathroom.” Yuri murmured, sighing defeatedly.
“So… who's going with her?” Flash raised an eyebrow, his eyes bouncing between Hobie and Yuri. The two stared back at him, making him raise his hands in the air defensively, “not it.”
It made both Hobie and Yuri roll their eyes. Yuri turned towards Hobie, opening her mouth to say something but Hobie interrupted her before she could.
“I'll go, ya both enjoy. If we don't return, we left, ‘ight?” Hobie gave them a curt nod and small goodbyes before he headed your way quickly just in case you were about to do something stupidly stupid and wouldn't be able to take it back.
Hobie strutted through the packed room, hands in pocket, eyes searching for a certain (h/c) headed individual. His height an advantage as he could see over the array of people. His nostrils taking in a whiff of the sweat and alcohol mixed in with the air, dancing bodies bumping against his.
Where did she go? He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes wandered over the room, skimming through the crowd but unable to spot you. You went in the complete wrong direction so you couldn't possibly have made it to the bathroom.
Should he call your name? Probably not, as tempting as it was, you weren't really a lost child.
He caught a glimpse of you – your back turned to him whilst you talked to two other girls. He doesn't remember introducing you to them. Maybe you knew them already? He pushed the thoughts aside, walking over towards you.
He tapped your shoulder, “Y/N-” only to freeze in his stance when he saw ‘you’ turn around.
“Huh?” The amber-eyed woman looked Hobie up and down, her eyes sparkling. “Sorry, can I help you?” She spoke softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
“Sorry love, thought you were somebody else.” He explained noticing her smile slip a little.
“Oh.” She murmured melancholy, plastering a fake smile on her face. Hobie nodded and quickly left before she could say anything else.
Something – Someone – suddenly slammed into his side, his hands reaching down and grabbing their waist to steady them.
He looked down, finding your hazy eyes melding with his, “you good?”
“Just a little… light-headed.” You reassured, rubbing your eye with the heel of your palm unable to ignore the uneasiness in the back of your throat but you didn't see why he had to know that.
“You wanna get outta here?” Hobie suggested, watching you narrow your eyes at him before nodding and mumbling something he assumed was a yes.
He moved his hand up wrapping around your shoulder and leading you towards the elevator.
Ding.
The Elevator had reached the top, the metal doors sliding out revealing how the dark blue had taken over the sky, multiple glowing specks adorning the sky. What time was it? Where were you two going now? You wondered, your thoughts racing from one to another. At least they hadn't gone completely blank… yet.
Your body moved on its own — with the help of Hobie, of course. Otherwise you'd probably still be tossed around the crowd like a colorful toy among a group of children.
You'd rushed over dipped your head over a plant pot that busied the wall right next to the elevator when you reached it. Gagging and retching, expecting your half-digested lunch and almost 5 beers to make a quick reappearance but it never did.
“You feelin’ better?” The voice snapped you out of your musing.
“Nope,” you answered with a pop of the p. “I think… I think it's probably gotten worse actually.” Your answer was slow, trying to comprehend each syllable you spit out of your mouth.
“Eh, should've known better before dragging ya into a bar and making you chug beer.” He sighed, feeling you lean against him while he continued to steady your movement.
“Probably.”
“Definitely.”
“Did you enjoy at least?” Hobie asked, trying to make some good of the situation.
“Mhm.” You crooned, stumbling over your own foot but never making it to the floor. He twisted the door knob that probably would've broken down if the breeze of air was too fast. “So where do you live?”
“Eh… my apartment.” You answered.
He chuckled at your ominous answer, “and where would your ‘apartment’ be?”
Huh… your apartment? It was on street… Your thoughts went blank. Did you just forget where you fucking live? yes. Yes you did. But if you think hard enough– nope. nothing. Maybe you shouldn't have drank that much.
With how long you were silent for, Hobie realized the problem. “Ya forgot?”
“I forgot.”
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @the-kr8tor @missshelleyduvall @hobieszeze
Banner(s) by @/cafekitsune
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princessanonymous · 15 hours
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I love your platonic yandere vampire story!! One of the best that I have ever read ❤
So I'm just wondering what time period did the reader turn? If not modernt times, how would they react with the modern world (like in the 2000's)? Would the keep up with new technology, would they just not care, or would they be against it? And if they care, what would be their favorite thing about the modern world?
Once again, amazing work and i enjoy all of your stories <3
𝓝𝓮𝔀 𝓦𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓼 (Ask)
When Night Comes asks Platonic Yandere Vampire Story Chapter list
Hi, thx for the ask and sorry if it took some time! Btw, (Y/n) was turned during the Victorian Era. :)
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"You want what?" Her father's disbelief dripped slowly from his lips, his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to comprehend his daughter's request.
Undeterred by his reaction, the girl nodded excitedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she pointed at her phone, a strange and amusing contraption she had only received a year ago after years of pestering her parents.
"A tablet and a digital pencil," she explained, her voice filled with excitement as she gestured towards the screen of her phone.
"Is that another of those things you saw on that clock application of yours?" He guessed with a roll of his eyes. She huffed in response, feeling insulted by his dismissive attitude.
"TikTok," she corrected him, her voice laced with exasperation. "And I don't see why that would matter."
He raised an eyebrow and answered, "Oh it does not."
She calmed down slightly at his words, relieved, but then she watched as his eyes landed once again on the book he was reading before she entered the living room. She awaited his decision with bated breath until she grew impatient. With each passing minute of silence punctuated only by the sound of pages turning, her anticipation grew.
"Well?" she finally interjected, unable to contain her impatience any longer.
He lifted his head once again, feigning innocence. "Well, what?"
Her glare intensified, and she snapped, "What do you say? Can I have it?"
His eyebrows rose, then he laughed; "Oh, of course not.”
"Why?" she demanded, her voice sharp with indignation, visibly bristled by his categorical answer. The dismissal of her desires stung.
"Why would you want such a thing?" He asked a question of his own, his tone laced with condescension, while pointedly ignoring hers. "I taught you how to draw and paint," he continued, his emphasis on the word 'taught' dripping with arrogance. "These silly things are nothing compared to good, traditional academic art," he declared. 
His words carried the weight of superiority, as if her aspirations were frivolous and unworthy of consideration and she clenched her fists at that.
She now understood his reticence to it; her father prided himself as a connoisseur in fine arts. It was true that he had an appreciation for the arts, but only when they adhered to the strict confines of academic, structured, and figurative compositions. She still vividly remembered the first time he had encountered abstract art; the fury and disgust that flickered in his eyes had been unmistakable.
Her father's disdain for anything outside the realm of traditional art became painfully apparent when he abruptly ceased sponsoring any museum or gallery that dared to exhibit the works of artists like Wassily Kandinsky and those who followed in his footsteps. The ripple effect was significant; it sent shockwaves through the art community and made headlines across the globe. For generations, his ancestors, from Dorian I to Dorian IV — who were, in fact, all him — had been the most influential patrons of the finest museums, but his sudden withdrawal of support was unprecedented.
The abrupt departure from his ‘familial legacy’ left many puzzled and others outraged, but her father remained resolute in his disdain for what he deemed as 'frivolous experimentation' in the art world.
(Y/n), on the other hand, did not hate abstract art; she just didn’t really understand the meaning of it most of the time. It mostly looked like a mess of forms to her. She didn’t even particularly want to depict abstract things; she just wished to do art using a new medium, but she couldn't help but feel the weight of his disapproval pressing down upon her.
"It doesn’t have to be abstract. Digital art can be as good as anything we have in this house," she insisted, her voice laced with determination. But at his dubious look, she sputtered, the words tumbling out in a rush, "And I'll prove it to you!”
He chuckled dismissively, waving a hand in her direction before turning back to his book once again. “Of course, you shall do that," he agreed, his tone dripping with condescension, a clear dismissal of her ambitions.
She felt a surge of frustration bubble up within her, puffing her cheeks in defiance as she stormed off. She was not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when it came to proving her father wrong. 
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cthulhum · 11 days
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and dean winchester thought he was unlovable and didnt deserve happiness he hated himself and thought eveyone would eventually leave him and then a literal fucking angel fell in love with him. like loved him more than anything else in the world.
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wonder-worker · 8 days
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"[Alice Perrers] requested that she be buried in the parish church of Upminster, St Laurence, before the altar of the Virgin Mary. Alice seems to have had an affinity with Mary through her life; a seal of hers from c. 1374 shows an image of the Virgin Mary and child, her tabernacle seized in 1377 had an image of the Virgin Mary on it, and now she wished to be buried before Mary’s altar."
-Gemma Hollman, "The Queen and the Mistress: The Women of Edward III"
#historicwomendaily#alice perrers#my post#I didn't know about this but it's so very intriguing#I wonder if Alice associated herself with Mary to try and assert her own 'quasi-queenship'#(ie: the most powerful woman in the country at the side of a king)#as Mary was obviously important element of queenly iconography in late medieval England#though on the flip side I suspect it would have also raised hackles that Alice - a commoner and royal mistress - was attempting#to present herself in such a way#it's especially interesting to consider in the context of Tompkins' argument that Alice was perceived as 'inverting queenship' (slay)#also this book was ... complicated.#It's very understanding and sympathetic and raised some very good points#but also tried to...massively soften Alice's actions and downplay her role and power in the process#(ie: defending her by diminishing her)#also there's this gem:#'Edward had been markedly restrained with the gifts and favour he had bestowed upon Alice' girl that is a flat-out lie#no other royal mistress of medieval England was ever given so much or honored in such a way.#yes we should emphasize Alice's own proactive role and intelligence in building up her vast estates#but even if that hypothetically hadn't happened#Edward's grants and gifts would have still made her extremely wealthy and powerful regardless#and was also weirdly obsessed with romanticizing Edward III and it got kinda questionable#like yes obviously I think we should ascribe more nuanced motivations and emotions to *Alice* than 'ambitious gold-digger#taking advantage of an aging king'#but I'm not fond of it veering too far on the other side either#I think sometimes we should simply be comfortable admitting when we simply don't know something
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gobbluthbutagirl · 4 months
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actually so funny in retrospect how on the last wednesday of 2022 my job told me i had an “attitude problem” so in 2023 i quit that job, bought a pair of socks online that said “i ❤️ my attitude problem,” and listened to “bad attitude” by meat loaf so many times that it became my #3 most played song of the year
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cybernightart · 8 months
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Just a really random AU with oni Genji + Hanzo/kiriko with a side of light shipping stuff✨
I'm really thinking about an au right now where Genji, Hanzo, and kiriko are just casually demons, like they're just full-blown only because the shimada clan were. No one knows this because they kept themselves in their human form most of the time, with only when they would have outbursts of anger or other incredibly strong emotions that would reveal the horns, the unnatural skin tones, the markings, and the teeth.
Genji got away with not telling anyone for a really long time, like he didn't end up telling anyone till post recall. mainly because he kind of forgot to mention it. And how he got away without telling anyone for so long was because of his mask. Because even in black watch The mask covers everything where any of his non-human features would be except for his red eyes which no one questioned. Just chalking it up to the cybernetics.
They still would have the dragon spirits/fox spirit, because that's more of a spirituality thing of their family line was blessed by those gods, so they have the ability to summon these dragons and utilize their power completely separate from just the fact they also happen to be oni. Which they don't even think is a big deal 90% of the time because they themselves forget that they're not just human.
Also because I've been wanting to have an au with the ship specifically for a while, I am making this a Genji X mercy X Cassidy AU!
✨Mcgency ✨
Would the new name be gencidy? Colency? The cosplay trio I don't know XD (those three definitely have the most costume like outfits out of the majority of OverWatch considering one of them is a cowboy ,one is an angel and the third is a ninja!!! they sound like three kids going trick or treating dressed in Halloween costumes which is frankly adorable)
Anyways back on topic, the only time Genji realizes that he probably should tell Cassidy and Angela is when they are going to bed (in my head I'm picturing because of the new recruits or how the rooms are laid out, they're having to double or triple bunk rooms because it's not exactly like they can get the legal permits to upgrade the OverWatch base considering the government doesn't even want them operating at all), he's going to take his mask off in the bathroom to get ready for bed and to have the first actual proper sleep since the recall. Since he's gotten so used to not hiding his demonic features at all ,considering he wears a mask all the time, it just suddenly occurs to him that maybe he should say something. Which would lead to one slightly shocking but evidently not that big of reaction of a response from the other two who just kind of went "*shug* thats cool". Which was a very anticlimactic response to what he was expecting but is not upset with.
Cassidy would also be the first to point out the irony of the contrast of Genji and mercy being an angel and a demon. Which they all would giggle at especially considering Cassidy decided to use finger guns when stating that fact.
And once again Genji just kind of forgets to tell anyone else in the OverWatch base, even people he's really really close with, because he just straight up forgets to mention it. Between null sector and talon, there wasn't exactly a prime opportunity to mention "oh hey guys by the way I'm actually a Japanese demon (Oni) just to let you know ,but don't worry I won't eat you<3". So it just never came up until maybe during one of their missions that kind of go wrong, perhaps talon captures them and in an attempt to do a intimidation tactic they remove Genji's mask only to get freaked out by the fact he has glowing red eyes ,red markings on his face, horns not only coming out of his forehead but his jaw ,and gnarly fang like teeth, which none of them have ever noticed before. and then the other captured OverWatch members are just like "so....uhhh.... is this new or?" "Nope, born this way. It's genetic" "Oh. Cool...I guess....." "We're going to be talking about this more later aren't we?" "Definitely"
Lucky enough they're able to escape before Moira starts doing all sorts of experiments on Genji.
Hanzo, you would have no clue he was an oni unless he told you, or more accurately Genji told you, because he basically had it beaten into him as a child to never reveal in front of people that he's an oni. And the only time he is in his true form where he's blue and everything is when he's sleeping or completely by himself.
Kiriko wouldn't try to hide it much, she would hide her horns but since she only has them on her forehead with her new headband she got she doesn't have to use the energy to hide them anymore. And she doesn't even try to hide the red markings and no one questions it, primarily just assuming that the markings are from the kitsune which they partially are, it just so happens that both things resulted in cheek markings which just kind of ended up fusing into the marking she has.
Also when Genji was younger, like still in the shamada clan, he would try and hide it a bit more but nowhere near as much as Hanzo. And primarily because she hated using so much of his energy to hide his horns he started wearing that forehead guard thing, and eventually a scarf so that if need be he could partially cover his face while also just looking incredibly fashionable and keeping him very warm in the winter months.
Also the reason they have the spirits is because they sort of act as a bridge between the spirit realm and the mortal realm with being yokai kind of wander one foot on both.
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jessamine-rose · 6 months
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/obey me! vent/
#jessamine rambles#before i start. pls keep in mind that this is fully subjective and could just be a 'me' problem. i just want to get this off my chest#ngl i've been contemplating on whether i want to stop playing obey me. both the og game and nightbringer#idk i've been playing the game since its first month and while it's given me a lot of joy + memories + chances to befriend other ppl. i'm#pretty burned out. not to mention TIRED of my consistent disappointment with the game#the main story.....where do i start?? i actually enjoyed s1-s3 despite my qualms with the fillers and pacing but s4 disappointed me. i was#rlly looking forward to simeon's storyline and the new characters but ultimately. the devs tried to squeeze too many things into one season#not to mention that there is a notable difference in how the characters are written. i.e. beel's hunger and asmo's beauty#being watered down to running gags instead of the complexities explored in the old dg stories and chara songs#gameplay-wise. i was there when the devs raised the rewards price of the event urs and removed the demon ssrs completely#but nightbringer was the last straw for me. the amount of time it takes to grind for two games. knowing that the og app has essentially bee#abandoned by the devs?? not to mention that while the plot is interesting. i haven't touched the main story ever since the coma arc#i will give credit to the devs for improving the event stories by choosing to focus on 1-2 demons. but it has always felt like a quantity >#quality situation. esp if i were to compare it to my other fandoms#it also doesn't help that i'm currently at a point of my life where i'm questioning if i could use my time on obm for better things#seeing how the game is giving me less reasons to believe it is worth my time#idk this may also be a short-term phase since i DID get back into twst after a long hiatus and i recently got into whb#which btw has felt like a breath of fresh air despite my frustrations with the bugs and current gacha#but yeahhhh........as much as i love the obm characters and fanfics. i'm just tired#at this point i feel like the only reason why i still play the game is due to the nostalgia and so i don't waste the years of grinding#aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh#this is what i get for being the type of player who only plays a few games so they can rlly dedicate their time and passion to it#that's all
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quietwingsinthesky · 3 months
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even deserves gentle forehead kisses
#and so do i but thats another problem#dw oc#thinking about. touch in their original environment is function only. necessity when it happens.#it is not a cruel thing. or not intentionally not by those doing it that even interacts with. because even does not. as a rule. interact#with anyone ‘Important’.#they are all simply following the same patterns they were raised with and have little reason to question because of the intense isolation of#space travel. i think a lot about. the inciting incident of even leaving is Sci-Fi Problems but more specifically. the death of someone#they were both attached to and felt responsible for. their older and previously injured coworker who would not be alive without even lying#about how much work he’s doing that they’re taking care of in reality. (which is a whole other thing. really the first things to know about#even are 1) that they will willingly put themselves in a position that endangers/harms them without hesitation if it means helping. and#2) even is a liar. that is what love does to them. for better and more often for worse. if it hurts — even will lie.#AND ANYWAY WE’RE GETTING OFFTRACK HERE#but the point is that what sticks in my mind that will go into a scene if i ever write anything about this#is that when that person dies. that person who even has built their life around protecting. buying just a little more time.#when the doctor is trying to pull even away because the danger is still present they are not safe it is still a threat. instead even squirms#away from him so that they can take their friends hand and put it on their cheek. and its still warm.#this is the person they were closest to. and this. this simple thing this simple contact. this is not something even has ever felt.#and their hand is growing cold.#anyway moving on from that this is why they should get cuddles#even headbonks the doctor to show affection like a cat pass it on.
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iamthedukeofurl · 5 months
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Scott Pilgrim is, I think, the best example I can think of for establishing a setting's Nonsense Limit. The setting's Nonsense Limit isn't quite "How high-fantasy is this". It's mostly a question of presentation, to what degree does the audience feel that they know the rules the world operates by, such that they are primed to accept a random new element being introduced. A setting with a Nonsense Limit of 0 is, like, an everyday story. Something larger than life, but theoretically taking place in our world, like your standard spy thriller action movie has a limit of 1. Some sort of hidden world urban fantasy with wizards and stuff operating in secret has a nonsense limit around 3 or 4. A Superhero setting, presenting an alternate version of our world, is a 5 or 6. High fantasy comes in around a 7 or so, "Oh yeah, Wizards exist and they can do crazy stuff" is pretty commonly accepted. Scott Pilgrim comes in at a 10. If you read the Scott Pilgrim book, it starts off looking like a purely mundane slice of life. The first hint at the fantastical is Ramona appearing repeatedly in Scott's Dreams, and then later showing up in real life. When we finally get an explanation, it's this:
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Apparently Subspace Highways are a thing? And they go through people's heads? And Ramona treats this like it's obscure, but not secret knowledge. Ramona doesn't think she's doing anything weird here. At this point, it's not clear if Scott is accepting Ramona's explanation or not, things kind of move on as mundane as ever until their Date, when Ramona takes Scott through subspace, and he doesn't act like his world was just blown open or anything, although I guess that could have been a metaphor. there's a couple other moments, but everything with Ramona could be a metaphor, or Scott not recognizing what's going on. Maybe Ramona is uniquely fantastical in this otherwise normal world. And then, this happens
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Suddenly, a fantastical element (A shitty local indie band finishing their set with a song that knocks out most of the audience) is introduced unrelated to Ramona, and undeniably literal. We see the crowd knocked out by Crash and The Boys. but the story doesn't linger on the implications of that, the whole point of that sequence is to raise the Nonsense Level, such that you accept it when This happens
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Matthew Patel comes flying down onto the stage, Scott, who until this point is presented as a terrible person and a loser, but otherwise is extremely ordinary, proceeds to flawlessly block and counter him before doing a 64-hit air juggle combo. Scott's friends treat this like Scott is showing off a mildly interesting party trick, like being really good at darts. The establish that Scott is the "Best Fighter in the Province", not only are street-fighter battles a thing, Scott is Very Good at it, but they're so unimportant that being the best fighter in the province doesn't make Scott NOT a loser. So when Matthew Patel shows off his magic powers and then explodes into a pile of coins, we've established "Oh, this is how silly the setting gets". It's not about establishing the RULES of the setting so much as it is about establishing a lack of rules. Scott's skill at street-fighter battles doesn't translate to any sort of social prestige. Ramona can access Subspace Highways and she uses it to do a basic delivery job. It doesn't make sense and it's clear that it's not supposed to. So later on, when Todd Ingram starts throwing around telekinesis, and the explanation we're given is "He's a Vegan" , you're already so primed by the mixture of weirdness and mundanity that rather than trying to incorporate this new knowledge into any sort of coherent setting ruleset, you just go "Ah, yeah, Vegans".
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