#I was literally just going about my day and then this idea hit me like a truck and I couldn't do anything else until I drew this
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Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!
I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.
But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.
Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.
Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!
And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.
But then he tries to leave.
Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.
Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.
Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.
But either way, it doesnt work.
He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.
Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.
He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.
Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.
He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.
And he is trapped.
And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.
After hes been more or less kidnapped.
He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.
And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).
but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!
Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!
He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!
He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.
Most importantly, he knows their goals
But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.
And has no idea what they want
And Danny just freezes up
This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.
You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue
I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat
Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.
And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.
I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”
JL would not be happy about any of his responses.
Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day
#danny phantom#dp x dc#justice league#justice league x danny phantom#not a ship#dc x dp#dc x dp crossover#dcxdp#dpxdc#misunderstandings#angst potential
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Crawling Back To You | Matthew Knies
summary: the 5 stages of realizing you're falling in love with your boyfriend’s best friend (college!au).
19.9k (…whoops)
warnings: enemies to lovers | the slowest of slow burns. like seriously buckle up | emotional cheating? kinda not really? | thoughts of infidelity | drinking | intense make out scene | kind of a unfinished ending (sorry in advance) | suggestive scenes and dialogue | read at your own discretion
a/n: this idea randomly popped into my head before bed a few weeks ago and I immediately knew I had to write it. this is for the knies girlies (like yours truly) who can’t help themselves but fantasizing about him—I see you and I got you.
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Prologue
lucas' arm around your hips is a firm pressure, guiding you through the crowded frat house like he's done many times before. you let him easily, smiling at friends as you pass by them.
your boyfriend doesn't really notice anybody else—too busy looking for his friends in the chaotic crowd. his fingers flex around the dip of your hip, squeezing you reassuringly. "you look nice babe."
he's told you that already tonight—when you'd showed up to his door so you could walk to the frat party together—which, is only down the hall from your door—regardless though, it's nice to hear. you tilt you head back to look at him, eyes lingering over his too-sharp jaw and icy gaze. "thanks lucas."
he hums softly, not looking at you as he continues to make way through the sea of sweat covered bodies. you sigh gently, gnawing on your gloss coated bottom lip, gaze flickering away from your boyfriend.
you and lucas have been dating for almost half a year—which in hindsight isn't that long, but when you're in university and spending every waking minute with a person, it soon feels like a lifetime. you met him in the mailroom of your shared apartment complex during the beginning of last term, and hit it off almost immediately.
lucas was flirty, and so sweet that it felt like your teeth were decaying. he was smart and played on the universities hockey team—it was hard not to fall for him. but as your brief honeymoon phase came to a close, lucas started to get a little...dull.
he doesn't make your heart race, and he doesn't have your stomach swooping with his stare or touch, and most of the time it feels like he doesn't have the time for you. but it's fine, because he's your boyfriend, and you care for him. it's just a bit...boring, and unfulfilling.
"babe." he starts again, glancing down at you. "were you able to book off that shift? the one during next game day?"
you frown, stopping in your shuffling steps. "lucas, I already told you that I couldn't."
your boyfriend stops as well, turning towards you with deeply furrowed eyebrows. "you did?"
you sigh, a bubble of irritation rising in your chest. "yes. this morning before class."
"seriously?" he all but huffs, dropping his hands from your waist. "I wanted you there."
"and like I told you this morning, there's nothing I can do about it." you've flushed with annoyance, looking at your boyfriend with a perplexed expression. it feels like you've been going in circles about this damn shift for days—and somehow everytime, lucas makes you feel like an asshole about it. you literally work at the arena, and as only 1 of 3 staff members for the concession stand, getting your shift covered was practically impossible.
his eyes flash with something similar to annoyance. "it feels like you don't even want to watch me play, y/n."
your eyes quickly dart around the room, gulping gently as you make sure nobody is watching the exchange between you and lucas—one that feels like it's on the tipping point of turning heated. your gaze flickers back to his, crossing your arms defensively. "are you seriously going to start this here? in front of everyone?"
despite your words, nobody is paying attention to the two of you—too drunk or high or both to have the awareness they needed to realize what's going on between you and the hockey teams assistant captain.
lucas sighs gently, eyes softening as he takes in your closed off, hard expression. "look," lucas grabs the sides of your face, holding you in place. "i'm sorry, okay?" your eyes drop, mind still reeling with annoyance about the whole situation. lucas thumb runs along your cheek, "we can talk about it later."
there's nothing to talk about, you think. i've already told you.
he leans in, searching for a kiss, but you turn your head just before your lips connect—lucas planting an unexpected peck to your cheek.
from a room over, matthew knies takes a sip of his beer, a smile pulling at his lips as his teammate loudly tells the group about his latest tinder date adventure—new flash, it went horrible. his teammate, gabe, wasn't the kind of guy you wanted to date, and after hearing all these different stories about how his dates went, matthew can't help but feel sorry for these girls.
sean, another member of the minnesota hockey team, nudges his elbow into matthew's side, subtly pulling his attention away from gabe and his loud mouth and comical expression—currently acting out how he'd opened the car door during said tinder date.
matthew's brows raise, looking at the tan complexion of his friend. "what's up?"
"looks like there's some trouble in paradise, huh?" sean then shifts his eyes out of the room, down into the even more crowded foyer and kitchen. matthew's eyes can't help but follow, landing upon his roommate, and another teammate of his, lucas.
but he's not alone—you're with him. matthew swallows roughly, eyes narrowing at the sight of you. he watches as lucas grabs your face, stroking the highest part of your cheek with his calloused thumb. there's a few rushed words exchanged between you, ones that matthew has no chance of hearing over the bustling party.
sean continues, rubbing his hand over his stubble. "what do you think they're fighting about?"
matthew watches as you dodge his friends kiss, your expression full of exhaustion and annoyance. he looks away from you, eyes finding sean's deep chocolate ones "probably something lucas started."
sean snorts. "probably—dude doesn't know what he's got."
matthew hums dismissively, taking an aggressive sip from his beer bottle. the tangy liquid fizzles against his tastebuds, the alcohol already making him feel lighter. he can't help the way his eyes find you again, watching the tail end of whatever argument you'd been in the midst of.
lucas pulls off you, a tiny roll of his eyes. but he wraps his arm around you again, pulling you further into the house and in the direction of the living room.
at the sight of lucas, a few of the guys get distracted, attention pulled from gabe and his ridiculous performance—all of them hollering in the blondes direction. the smile comes easy, and he releases you in favour of greeting everyone, bringing them into a side hug before slapping the muscle on their back.
you do your best to plaster on a smile as a couple of the guys girlfriends greet you warmly—madison, you closest WAG friend squeezes your arm from the couch beside you. you briefly wonder if she's seen the tiff you've just had with lucas.
but no, you can't think like that, if you do it'll just make you more anxious than usual. you gently shake your head, snapping yourself out of your own pity. you stand awkwardly beside the couch while lucas completely disappears into his friends, cheering and laughing as they all talk about their latest win. you blink again, this time to hold back unshed tears.
"hey girl, you wanna sit down?" another one of the wags asks you, her gentle, honey laced voice filtering through the noisy room. "you look a little out of it."
you laugh gently, blinking rapidly. "I don't think there's anywhere to sit." your words stem from truth, and as you glance around the collection of mangled, worn leather couches and stained lazy boys, the space is limited. you desperately wish lucas was a doting boyfriend—pulling you into his lap and pressing a reassuring kiss against the junction of your neck.
"you can sit here." his voice cuts through the air like a knife, sending a usual shiver through your body. you hadn't even realized matthew knies was here—but you should've suspected it when you didn't hear his usual rerun of new girl in his and lucas' shared apartment.
your eyes flicker to his, and then towards the sliver of space between him and sean. the couch is most definitely sticky, and the foam is practically spilling out the cushion—the sight has you squirming. parties have never been your thing, and you've never been one to be overly social—much preferring the silence and comfortability of your own space. if you were to go out on your own terms, you'd often opt for local bars or eateries, which usually provide a more relaxed and tone downed party atmosphere.
but lucas likes frats—so here you are. your eyes find matthew's again, and immediately you're feeling a familiar pull in your chest—one that always seems to tug in the presence of your boyfriends best friend. it's not that you hated matthew knies...it's just....he is one of your least favourite people to be around.
you're not sure when it started, but the combination of his cocky attitude and the way he seemed to always be pushing your buttons with that stupid smirk on his face, just has your blood boiling.
and you really try your best to ignore him, but as soon as his pestering starts, you just can't help but bite back.
he's looking at you with that slinky pull to his plump lips, likes he's expecting you to decline his offer and just turn tail and leave—which you are desperately trying not to do.
matthew's one eyebrow raises, almost like a challenge. "you scared or somethin', y/l/n?" he takes a slow sip of his beer, adam's apple bobbing roughly under his clean shaven throat. he licks his lips, catching the lingering liquid. "I dont bite."
the use of your last name—how it so easily slips through his lips like a song—has you biting down, your teeth practically cracking under the intense pressure. all your earlier irritation has been quickly redirected to matthew, and you eye him pointedly. "doubtful."
his smirk widens.
you shoot a glance towards lucas, but to your disappointment he still hasn't realized you're standing alone—sitting comfortably between teammates and sipping from a mysterious seltzer can. slowly, you look back towards matthew, who's grin has yet to falter.
he pats the space between himself and sean, two slaps against the leather as he wordlessly invites you over.
you can't help the way your eyes roll.
sean watches the entire ordeal like a damn soap-opera, eyes darting between you and his friend next to him—hiding his amused smile behind the neck of his beer bottle.
with a gentle sigh, you make your way towards them, wordlessly taking a seat between the two athletes with an awkward cough. immediately you're warm, the combination of the crowded house and being squished between two large men sending you into a heat flash.
although, matthew may be more of a boy than a man, but you digress.
"want a drink?" he asks you—the smirk evident simply in his tone. your eyes dart to the side, finding his flushed face.
"of what?" you question sharply.
his brows raise in amusement. "anything you want." matthew laughs once, a breathy sound that has you squinting. "there's lots of options—this is a party, y/l/n."
there's that nickname again—the condescending tone dripping from his tongue as he calls you by your last name. you grit your teeth, "that's not my name."
"I mean...It is." his eyes flicker with something you don't recognize, lip twitching as his smile widens. "you're always so wound up."
you stiffen, and you can hear sean hiss quietly beside you. matthew's looking as smug as ever, fiddling with the damp, shredded label of his drink. you let out a scoff, "no i'm not—you're just annoying."
"sure." he nods condescendingly just as he lifts the neck of his bottle back towards his mouth, plump lips expertly caressing the opening and tipping the liquid into his mouth.
you watch him move—your bubbling annoyance clear. you watch behind the rim of the bottle as his smirk returns, and that has you blinking, quickly averting your gaze. "don't you have other people to bother?"
you hear his beer hit the table as he places it down, clearly done with it. "am I bothering you?" matthew chooses to avoid your question, like usual, which has you rolling your eyes for the umpteenth time.
"I personally find this really entertaining." sean interrupts, leaning closer towards you. a half smile takes over his dark complexion, and he gets further into your space, wide, amused eyes dancing between his teammate and you. "you guys fight like you're a married couple."
you head snaps his his direction so fast you neck muscles tighten up. "what does that mean?"
matthew snickers, which immediately has you attention again. "seriously, have a drink or something — you fucking need one."
"excuse me?" your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you're too far gone to care. you're really not in the mood to deal with your boyfriends best friends cocky personality, or his infuriating mannerisms and ridiculous smirk. "literally what makes you think you can say things like that to me? god, what's crawled up your ass."
"alright, alright," he interrupts, one of his large hands raised in a mock surrender. "just chill out, I'm not trying to ruin your night."
without knowing what else to say in that moment, you look away—eyes pinched and lips held together tightly. you grab sean's half full can of cherry liquor—right out of his loose grip—and down the rest of it.
he makes a noise of protest, but you don't even care. the alcohol already has you feeling better, the affects settling deep in your belly and further warming your exposed skin—you've always been a light weight. you cringe at the flavour, letting the last sip linger on your tastebuds before fully swallowing.
"fuckin jesus, y/n." sean grumbles like he's annoyed, but his eyes tell a different story. "that rilled up huh?"
you turn your back towards matthew, facing sean and his girlfriend completely. the latter is talking intently with another one of the girls—completely oblivious to the tension brewing next her.
matthew's eyes linger on your exposed back, your cream silky top dipping low enough to expose the base of your spine. he tongues his cheek to mask the grin, slowly trailing his eyes back upwards. "you're such a baby." he says knowingly, leaning in close enough that his words tickle your neck. "turnin' your back to me."
without looking at him, you huff. "you're so insufferable." you break composure, turning back in his direction. your irritated expression is still lingering, looking at matthew like you're trying to incinerate him with your eyes. "you suddenly care about me or something?"
"you wish." his response is quick—teasing.
sean snorts, clearly enjoying this much more than you could ever.
"do you seriously think you have that much of an impact on my life?"
"I know I do." matthew laughs. "you're really cranky today."
"and you need to shut the fuck up-"
"alright, you two." sean speaks again, looking almost scared as he eyes the both of you curiously. "better stop before people start getting the wrong idea."
you don't even have the brain capacity to think about what he could mean with that insinuation. you shoot off the couch, "i'm done here anyway." you mumble hastily, immediately making your way across the small living room. you weave your way through the few people standing in the middle of the space, lingering and chatting too enthusiastically for your liking.
the other couch comes into view quickly, and you spot lucas just as fast. your arms are crossed as you walk up to your boyfriend, lips already pulling in a irritated pout. the silk of your top suddenly feels too cold—too exposing—and you just want to go.
"lucas." you get his attention, "I'm going home."
his attention is pulled away from his teammates, eyes flickering over your figure once. "you okay?"
"ask your roommate." you spit. "he's fucking infuriating."
lucas grin, rolling his eyes. "you are so dramatic, babe. just come sit with me."
a couple of his teammates snicker at his words, attempting to cover their amused smirks behind their drinks—but you catch them.
"i'm not dramatic." you start, exasperated. "and no, I'm going home."
he runs a hand over his face. "kay, i'll see you later."
"whatever." you grumble, turning away from your boyfriend. you make your way back through the sticky frat house, narrowly missing the beer spilling over solo cups as drunk university students slosh around, smashing drinks together in cheers.
the early spring chill sends you into a shivering state almost instantly—the night cold stinging your skin harshly. it's only when the noise and echoing bass fade into a dull hum that you start to cry, sluggishly walking down the sidewalk as you continue the short walk to your apartment complex.
thoughts of matthew's snarky remarks and stupid smirk are plaguing your mind—sending you into a flurry of anger and vexation. replaying the interaction in your head has you scoffing out loud, muttering irritatedly like a clinically insane person.
and then there's lucas and his rude dismissal of you—his girlfriend for fucks sake. that and the way his teammates snickered at the brief moment of bickering between you just has you spiraling even deeper.
you close your apartment door louder than you intended, kicking off your shoes quickly.
your roommate, cora, looks up from her spot on the kitchen barstool, slowly slurping her mouthful of cheap ramen noodles with her brows raised in concern. "how was the party?"
all you can muster is a growl, opening to cupboard above the sink in search of a glass. your grab the first one you see, immediately filling it up with absurd flavoured tap water.
she snorts into her bowl, shoving some more noodles into her mouth. "what happened?" she questions between her chews.
you finish the water with a loud gulp, placing the empty glassware on the counter. "matthew happened."
his name alone makes cora roll her eyes, but there's a tiny grin that she can't even hide. your roommate is well used to the hostility that lingers between you and your down the hall neighbour. "just ignore him."
it's something that's been said by cora hundreds of times—it seems that anytime you're with lucas, you're coming back with a scowl and a new story about his roommate instead. "you know he only messes with you because you give him a good reaction."
you huff, stealing the fork out of cora's bowl and serving yourself a bite of her beef favoured noodles. they're not long made, and the heat slightly burns your tongue. you hiss through your teeth, "he's hard to ignore when he's up my ass whispering in my ear about how i'm 'such a baby'" you attempt at lowering you voice to mimick the athletes, and that has her grinning, taking back her fork for another bite.
"you two are so weird." she slurps a noddle noisily, "like there's some weird sexual tension or something."
"cora!" you huff, eyes comically wide as you look at her with nothing short of perplexity.
"what?" she laughs, all but innocent. "he's hot!"
"I have a boyfriend." snatching the utensil again, you twirl the prongs through the lingering food. your face begins to heat up, something that feels like embarrassment crawling at your chest. you clear your throat, praying that cora doesn't catch your burning cheeks as you chew some more food. "besides, even If I was single i'd never date someone so...arrogant."
"whatever you say." cora teases further, tucking herself further under her extra large hoodie. you know your friend is only playing around, and there's no malicious intent with her digs—so you let it slide, even though the mere thought of dating matthew knies has your stomach dropping, making you feel nothing less than nauseous.
"I need to take these jeans off before I explode." you whine, quickly changing the subject. you already start unbuttoning the denim as you make your way down the hall, rounding into your warmly lit bedroom in search of your favourite pyjamas.
you soon swap your party, beer smelling attire for an oversized, stained hoodie and sleep shorts—throwing your hair back and popping your glasses on. already, you're feeling much more relaxed than when you first got home. "wanna watch an episode of stranger things?" you call through the apartment, already grabbing your throw blanket.
"yeah!" cora calls back, "can you bring me the niall horan blanket from your room?"
you snort a laugh, doubling back to your bed and pulling the fuzzy, 2011 one direction throw into your arms. it's been a staple piece ever since you met cora in your freshman dorm, and you learned your new roommate from wisconsin was just as obsessed with the former boyband as you are.
you make your way back into the living area of the small student apartment, your slippers slapping the floor obnoxiously as you do. "can you grab me a coke?" you ask cora as you pass the kitchen nook.
two knocks interrupt you, the sound echoing through the wooden door that separates your apartment from the hall. you jump slightly, the unexpecting thumping catching you off guard and making your heart leap.
cora eyes the clock—almost 1 a.m. her gaze skips back to you, frozen in place with the fridge wide open. "are you expecting anyone?"
"no." you swallow, making you way to the door. "are you?"
she almost snorts. "definitely not."
skeptical, but curious, you grasp the chipping bronze handle. you're hoping it's lucas—lucas who has hopefully come to his senses and has left the party in favour of giving you an apology. with a gentle shrug, you turn the handle and pull the door open in one swift motion.
matthew is there, leaning against the door frame in all his smug, infuriating glory. at the sight of you opening the door, a small smirk grows on his face, and in that moment you think the universe must be against you—because what the actual fuck.
"hey." he says simply, his stupid smirk growing impossibly wide. "glad to see you're not dead in a ditch." your brows begin to furrow, and he continues — much to your dismay. "saw you leave the party all stompy."
you're almost speechless, at a loss for words as you blink up at him. "it's almost 1."
"very good." he snickers, like he's congratulating you for knowing the time. you want to punch him in the mouth and get rid of that insufferable grin.
"can I like, help you or something?" you question roughly, crossing your arms over your hoodie. it's a bit awkward considering the mountain of blankets in your arms, but you manage. "i'm kind of busy."
matthew peers behind you, looking into your very much empty apartment. he sees cora, still lingering in the kitchen—watching the exchange like it's a SNL skit with a tiny, amused smile on her face.
he meets your hard eyes one again. "I don't think you are, actually." he licks his bottom lip slowly, an action that seems instinctual. "are you going to be neighborly and invite me in? or just keep standing and staring."
a scoff leaves your mouth, but before you can protest, cora speaks up, her cheery voice making your heart drop. "come on in, matthew—don't mind the mess." she kicks some loose shoes out of the way, subtly pushing you to the side as well.
matthew smirks at you again, stepping into the small foyer of your apartment. you tear your gaze away from the tall boy, sending your roommate a slightly panicked look.
she just shrugs, looking back at matthew quickly. "i'll let you two chat—i've gotta get the pillows..and...stuff, from my room."
pillows and stuff? her excuse is just sad, but before you can stop her, cora is turning on her heels, practically skipping down the hall and into her messy bedroom.
now alone, you look back at your boyfriend's friend with raised brows. "so? what is it?"
something flickers across his face, and before you can register it, he sighs. "listen, i've come to say i'm sorry for tonight. I was an asshole."
"an asshole is one way of putting it." you scoff, arms crossing tighter. you pause, eyeing his seemingly sincere expression. with a sigh, you falter slightly, "but thanks."
his smirk is back. "welcome." the formality is mumbled through his plump lips, and you swallow roughly at the lazy grin.
"anything else?" you hum pointedly.
matthew shakes his head. "nope." he reaches behind his broad back, grabbing the doorknob and turning it. "i'll be seeing you around i'm sure."
you watch as he opens the door, the fluorescent lights of the hallway illuminating your dim apartment. you kiss your teeth, a reluctant nod following suit. "oh, i'm sure."
he snickers. "goodnight, y/l/n."
your face falls—a bubble of irritation quickly rising once again. you don't say anything, watching through the corner of your eyes as matthew walks down the hall to his and lucas' shared apartment.
he shoves the key in the lock, and just before he walks inside, matthew shoots you one more stupid smirk that sends your head reeling.
you click your apartment door shut, and as soon as it does, your forehead hits the flat surface, an angry groan leaving your chest.
STAGE 1: Confusion
"can I get three tequila sunrises, please?"
the burly bartender behind the counter sends you a curt nod, turning on his heels as he grabs three empty glasses to begin making your drinks.
the bar is crowded, more crowded than your usual visits, but it is a saturday night and this is the closest place to drink from campus—so it’s business doesn’t come as a shock. you look around the room, eyeing the sea of students and young adults alike—all smiling and dancing together as they down shots and sip their respective drinks.
your eyes find your small table, seeing cora chat happily with your mutual friend, rachel. you'd all been in a deep conversation about your psychology midterm results when you'd slurped up the last bit of your drink—cora already fiddling with the ice cubes at the bottom of her glass.
with a pout from rachel and a plea from your roommate, you slid off the high stool and begin sneaking your way through the bar. you sigh gently, turning your attention back to the busy bar, watching as the bartender works around his co-workers in their hectic environment.
"hey." his voice has you stiffening. slowly, your gaze flickers to your right and that's where you see matthew, leaning against the sticky bar top in his usual stupid way.
you frown, glancing over your opposite shoulder to see if he's talking to somebody that's not you—maybe a teammate or your boyfriend who has magically decided to show up tonight.
matthew snickers. "yeah. i'm talking to you."
you look back at him sharply. "why?"
he shrugs, his index finger tracing one of the raised splits on the wooden bar top. "just saying hi to a friend."
"a friend?" you question, one breathy laugh passing through your stained lips. your gaze turns pointed, looking at matthew with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "we're not friends."
"no?" he hums lightly.
you shake your head once, firmly. "I think you're forgetting how you know me."
"we live in the same apartment complex." his smile has returned at full strength, sending your chest contorting in a way that makes you angry. he's trying to rile you up, you know that by now, and even if you didn't, that grin on his stupid chiseled face gives him away—he's up to no good.
you make a face of faux innocent, mouth falling open to form a small, perfected 'o'. "oh, so that's how you know me?" your face falls, and you grab your wallet off the bar top. your hands are slightly shaky, and definitely clammy due to the adrenaline and irritation running through your veins—it's all so infuriating.
you turn to leave, but matthew's hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you. your head snaps back so fast that for a moment your vision blurs—and you have to blink quickly to clear it.
"c'mon, y/l/n, i'm trying to play nice." his grin falters slightly, looking down at you with a gentle expression.
it makes you even angrier. "well, I don't want you to play nice."
matthew squints playfully, leaning further down into your space. "kinky."
your eyes widen to unfathomable size, and your skin flushes all over. it's exactly the reaction matthew wanted to pull from you, and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he watches your face further contort into an expression of disbelief and frustration.
you take a few shaky, shallow breathes, trying your best to not yank your hand away and high tail out of the bar completely. "I have a boyfriend." despite the firm town of your voice, your words are quiet, only for the two of you to hear.
matthew's brows shoot up. "okay, I don't know how stupid you think I am, but I know you have a boyfriend—I live with him. i'm just being a dick."
you can't help the way your eyes roll. no shit. it's like matthew finally realizes the gentle grip he's still got around your wrist, and he drops your arm rather quickly upon realization. matthew brings his hand back to his side, fingers flexing as he tries to shake off the unknowing sensation. he clears his throat, eyes not leaving yours as he continues. "speaking of, where is lucas? thought you'd be up his ass tonight."
you hesitantly tuck your wallet under your arm, holding it to your side. after all, you're still waiting for drinks, and you're not going to let matthew drive you out of the bar before you can deliver them. "like you said," you huff, "you live with him, so you should've noticed he was home tonight."
matthew's lips drop in a small frown at your words, because no, he doesn't remember seeing lucas after they passed each other on the way to the bathroom that morning.
the tattooed arm of the bartender comes back into your peripheral vision, and he slides theee glasses in your direction. "here's your drinks."
you quickly menover your black wallet back into your hands, pulling out a $20 bill and passing it to the rather attractive tender. "thanks." he nods, tucking the money into his waist apron before turning away, attending to one of the many awaiting customers.
you look back towards the athlete at your side, who still hasn't taken his gaze off of you, and send him a sarcastic smirk. "wish I could say it was nice seeing you matthew, but i've never been a liar." you grab two of the glasses, frowning gently as you realize you can't quite grip the third. you place them down, attempting another time.
"oh wow good one, y/l/n." matthew laughs breathily, watching as you continue to struggle with three, condensation coated glasses. "are you going to ask for help now?"
you snort, "i'd rather eat glass than ask for your help."
you look like a lost puppy—one of the glasses pressed between your arm and boob, and the other one clutched awkwardly in your hand. your fingers barley reach around it, and it looks like a disaster waiting to happen.
"jesus christ, just—" matthew mumbles, reaching towards you and taking both glasses from you. and because he's annoying and has the hands of a giant, he scoops the third glass off the bar, holding the three together.
he looks at you triumphantly, which makes you want to kick him. "must you be so proud?"
"I must." he chimes. matthew finally looks away from you, which has you letting out a breath you hadn't realized you've been harbouring. his eyes filter through the crowd, brows pinched together. "where's your table?"
on cue, cora's distinctive laughter fills the room. "never mind I can hear your roommate." he begins walking in the direction of the table, maneuvering through the room like he owns it—which induces an annoyed eye roll from you. watching the crowd practically part as they see him coming through is even more infuriating.
you follow behind him, trying your best to keep up with his long strides. "her mouth is almost as loud as yours!" you smile with faux enjoyment, looking up at his side.
you merely miss getting bumped by some hammered frat guy, too busy yelling and terribly singing along to the shitty (but addictive) pop music. you miss the glare matthew sends the strangers way before he looks down at you, a smirk on his face. "seems like a match made in heaven then."
"or hell." you hum.
he laughs tauntingly. "don't be jealous."
"why would I be jealous?"
"took you long enough!" cora shouts, teetering on hammered—she's been pregaming since 5.
you watch rachel's eyes trail to your side, and immediately she's lighting up. "oh and you've brought a friend."
"not a friend—just a nuisance."
matthew laughs, too loudly for your liking, brushing past you to step onto the platform where your friends sit. "think that's the nicest thing you've said about me, y/l/n."
if your eyes roll one more time tonight they're surely to get stuck. "don't you have something else to do, knies?"
cora takes the glass from matthew's large hand, batting her lashes up at him like a damn cartoon character. she immediately takes the straw into her mouth, chewing on the plastic. "thank you matthew."
he turns back to you with a smug expression. "see, y/l/n, that's how you're supposed to respond when someone does something nice for you."
"oh well— I can't wait for the day you do something nice for me!" you clap your hands together like an exaggerated cheer, stepping up the the platform as well. you almost bump into his chest, underestimating just how close matthew was.
he just smirks, eyes slowly flickering down your body.
you swallow. "okay, you can go now."
"anything else?" matthew questions, brows raised expectantly.
"what?" you breathe through your teeth.
his smirk grows. "i'm waiting for a thank you."
you exhale through your nose, eyes briefly flickering closed for a passing moment. when they re-open, matthew doesn't falter, if anything he looks even more cheerful. "thanks." you grit out.
"you're so welcome." he shoots you a quick wink, waving goodbye to your friends before he steps off the platform, making his way back to whichever group of loud cronies he'd been with before he started pestering you.
"you two are so ridiculous." rachel laughs into her glass before taking a hearty sip—her eyes not once leaving you.
you whine, taking your original seat next to cora. "i'm one more interaction away from transferring schools."
cora groans loudly. "oh my god."
the conversation thankfully shifts after your dramatic remark, and the rest of the night seemingly goes by in a flash. you actually end up dancing for most of the evening, sandwiched between cora and rachel as you all scream song lyrics and laugh with one another. it's nice and refreshing—thankfully taking your mind of him.
you end up feeling more tired than you expected soon after, the combination of drinking, dancing and being at school since 10 that morning is taking its toll on you. "i'm gunna head out." you tell cora, leaning in close so she can hear you over the bassy one direction throwback.
"what?" she pouts, her hazy eyes wide. "I don't want you to go!"
you laugh gently, accepting the hug as she throws herself at you—stumbling over her own two feet in the process. "i'm tired." you admit. "do you and rachel wanna come with me?"
"no! the night is still young." cora looks at you like you're crazy for even suggesting that.
"okay party animals." you bid another goodbye to both of your friends, ordering and uber for yourself before stepping outside. you're hoping the chilled air will sober you up a little bit—because the last thing you need is to fall asleep in an uber, or worse, get sick.
you sigh gently, swaying on your feet as you stand outside the bustling bar. strangers and traffic are steady, providing a surprisingly comforting atmosphere.
the door creaks open behind you, the inside chaos growing louder for a split second until the threshold is closed once more. instinctively, you glance over your shoulder, and the sight has you groaning. the universe must be praying on your downfall, because there he is. "seriously? are you stalking me or something?"
matthew's brows raise, his hands shoved in his jean pockets as he walks towards you. "that doesn't even make sense—you've already seen me tonight…”
his words have you scoffing, and you turn your head away from him as you grumble frustratedly. "fucking...whatever."
he doesn't respond immediately, and the night life is the only sounds heard. ever impatiently, you check the uber app again, praying your ride is almost here—but they're still 5 minutes out.
"where are your friends?" matthew's voice interrupts your peace.
"why?" you question with hesitance, your glare pointed as you look towards him.
he laughs briefly, although it sounds more like a scoff. "god, you're so tightly wound! i'm just trying to make conversation."
you're taken aback for a moment, blinking quickly as you take in his words. with a quiet, irritated sigh, you look away from him once again. "you really don't need to."
you peer down the road, praying you see the uber that somehow has magically sped through time. matthew scoffs again. "why don't you like me?"
"besides the obvious?" you question condescendingly, eyes not leaving the road in front of you.
"sure, besides the obvious."
you spin on your heels, which in hindsight isn't the smartest decision because your stumbling dangerously. matthew's eyes widen in concern for a moment, but you catch yourself before he has the chance to reach out. you eye his flexing hands with anger, a grumble leaving your stained lips. "you're just, ugh! insufferable."
his brows raise. "i'm insufferable?"
you nod. "yes."
"really?"
"yes, matthew! god this, what you're doing right now is quite literally the definition of insufferable. like, if you looked up the definition a video of this interaction would play." you breathe roughly, gesturing between the two of you like a crazy person. at some point during your rant, you'd stepped closer to him—close enough that you have to tilt your head back to properly look at him.
matthew's lips slowly contorts into a smirk, one that sends your blood boiling. "you're such a nerd ."
you laugh in disbelief. "que the insults!"
his eyes change then, his smirk dissolving as a more serious and intense expression takes over his face. matthew licks onto his bottom lip, gaze pointed. "it's wasn't an insult."
your breath hitches, catching in your throat as you watch him…watch you. before you can say anything—do anything—the sound of tires screeching to the curb has you pulling away.
the passenger window rolls down, and a middle aged man come into sight. "uber for y/n?"
"yeah, that's me." you say quickly, walking away from matthew as fast as your feet allow you, and practically jumping into the running car, as soon as the seatbelt is clicked into place, the uber is moving, sending you falling back against the seat.
you watch through the window as matthew looks at the retreating car—not talking his eyes off the vehicle until you're nothing but a set of break lights in the distance. you swallow roughly, blinking away the flurry of emotions pulling and pushing at your chest.
STAGE 2: Shifting
almost a week has passed since your...interesting? annoying? pointless? conversation with matthew outside the bar, and you thankfully haven't seen him since.
which is surprising considering you've been at his apartment almost every night with lucas. as much as you hate to admit it, and as much as it makes you angry, you were curious about his whereabouts. anytime you'd been cuddling with lucas on the couch, watching some shitty show he liked—your mind would wander, and anytime there'd be any noise in the hall, you'd wonder if it was him.
where was he? what's was he doing? is he avoiding you? but no, because matthew loves pissing you off too much to just avoid you...right?
you curse yourself everytime matthew pops into your mind, quickly distracting yourself with whatever task you could get your hands on. like right now, ruffling through the snack display on top of the counter at work.
the arena is extra cold today, and as your arms touch the metal basket containing the various chips and crackers, you shiver—not even the team branded zip up around your torso is helping.
"y/n," the floor manager, jason pops into the booth. "we need some more pineapple. can you get some from the players kitchen please? just the frozen stuff for smoothies." his voice is hopeful, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
you sigh gently, kissing your teeth as you turn to look at him. "sure."
he smiles in your direction, but just before he leaves, jason doubles back. "oh! and a few protein bars, i'm starving."
"sure." you nod curtly.
"and while you're there, grab me a green juice?" this time at least jason manages to look somewhat guilty, his grin almost doubtful.
you almost find it amusing, and you raise your brows as so. "why not."
jason cheers. "you're the best."
with that you make your way out of the room, not fully shutting the door behind yourself as you know your arms will be too full to use a handle when you come back. the walk to the players section of the facility isn't a long one, and it's only a few minutes until you're entering the 'smoothie room' — as you like to call it.
it's always in pristine condition, and you almost feel guilty for simply breathing in there. quickly, you grab everything you need from the room, including the bag you'd filled with frozen pineapple and some nasty smelling green drink for jason.
with your arms full, you leave the room and begin making your way back to the snack bar. you round the corner into the most open part of the corridor, expect this time it's not empty, and around 10 of the guys have started kicking the ball around—a pre-game warmup that a lot of them liked to participate in.
you plan to just sneak through, keep your head down and try to not too badly interrupt the ritual—for lack of a better word. timidly, you begin making your way towards the rowdy group, eyes focused as their voices get closer and closer.
the sound of the soccer ball smacking against the wall has you freezing, and before you know it the inflated ball is soaring towards you. you don’t have a chance to react, and it hits you right in the chest, sending everything you'd been previously holding scattering to the floor.
embarrassed and irritated, you sigh, crouching down as you begin to attempt and salvage the mess at your feet. an all too familiar pair of running shoes appear in your vision, coming to a squeaky stop as they approach. "damn, you alright?"
you look up, squinting from the glow of the fluorescent lights lining the corridors. like you thought, it's matthew. his expression almost resembles one of concern, which has you pulling a disgruntled face.
he's slightly breathless, running around and kicking a soccer ball at you must be the cause. he's alive, you think reluctantly.
you look away from him, grabbing the two bottles of green juice and tucking them under your arm. thankfully, neither plastic bottle cracked when they hit the tile.
he sighs roughly, and you can practically hear the roll of his eyes. matthew slowly bends down as well, grabbing the astray protein bars from the ground. "good talk." he mutters condescendingly.
your eyes dart up, a scoff tumbling past your lips. the audacity of matthew to be annoyed with you is just beyond comprehension. "sorry i'm not in the mood for small talk with you matthew after you just kicked the ball at my chest—i'm going to have to throw this fruit out now, thanks."
the pineapple is a wet, spilled mess across the floor. the bag had split when it dropped, and the ball has smooshed the fruit as it fell with it. you're not even sure what to do about the mess—looking at it hopelessly.
"I didn't kick anything at you, but sure it's my fault." he grumbles, looking at you once again.
"really? then who did?" you tone is dripping with doubt, looking at matthew with nothing but exasperation.
"ask your perfect little boyfriend." matthew immediately looks like he regrets his words, eyes widening momentarily before his gaze darts away from your face.
"my perfect little boyfriend who's also your friend?" you scoff. "god, touch some grass matthew." you know it's a terrible rebuke, and the way matthew smirks in disbelief following your insult has you feeling even more irritated with your choice of comeback.
you don't dwell on it much longer as the sound of somebody else approaching you both captures your attention. you look up just as lucas joins you, standing behind matthew with a tiny grin. "hey! babe you okay?"
you stand up, clutching the drinks to your chest. "fine." you nod.
lucas smiles again, moving to wrap you in a hug. it’s awkward, with your arms pushed against your chest and the green juice pressing into your boob uncomfortably. he kisses your head quickly. "sorry, we were all just messing around and I didn't see you."
your face falls, and you pull back from your boyfriend. "it was you?"
"yeah." he repeats, looking anything but guilty. "said I was sorry."
you unwrap yourself from his hug, stepping back. the whole conversation with your boyfriend has rubbed you the wrong way, and even if he didn't mean to kick you with the ball, his apology wasn't enough of a sincere gesture as you would expect from someone who supposedly loves you.
"I gotta get back." you say quietly, eyes downcast as you further back away from your boyfriend. instinctively, your eyes flicker towards matthew's tall stature. you both hold eye contact for a moment, unknown words lingering in the air between you.
you blink, picking up pace as you walk through the hall.
jason beams as he spots the pile of protein bars in your hands, taking two along with his green juice before skipping out the room. trying to shake off the weird feeling from the interaction with matthew in the corridor, you get back to work, organizing the fridge in preparation for tonight's game—you know how much the minnesota students love their alanis, and you need to make sure that fridge is fully stalked.
there's a good 5 minutes of silence, nothing but you, your thoughts and the loading of the fridge—until there's a knock at the open door.
you look over you shoulder, and there matthew is again. you don't know what to say because you don't know why he's here or what he wants. is he here to gloat? to apologize? to taunt?
matthew takes your silence as an invitation, stepping into the snack booth with a neutral expression. he's still dressed in his sports clothes—a team branded sweatshirt with matching shorts overtop compression pants, completed with his backward basball cap. it oddly suits him, and your stomach drops at the realization of what you've just done.
you kinda sorta checked him out.
"here." matthew interrupts your thoughts, clearly unaware of your wandering eyes and the inner turmoil happening in your brain. he walks further into the room, and that's when you see it—a bag of pineapple clutched in his hand.
in your rush to leave the corridor, you'd completely forgotten to run back and get more fruit.
"where do you want me to put it?" he questions.
"uh," you hum lightly, eyes moving around the room for some available space. it's kind of a mess in here, and you really need to get your shit together before you open. "just beside the coffee machine for now."
matthew does what you ask, putting the frozen ziploc beside the kureig on the side counter. he doesn't say anything else, and walks out the room without so much a second glance in your direction.
you bite your inner lip, knawing the soft skin as you blink furiously— trying to collect your whirlwind of thoughts. above all, you're angry. angry that you were hit with a ball, angry that matthew was right about who kicked it, angry that lucas gave you a shit apology, and that matthew didn't even attempt to annoy you when he'd brought you the pineapple.
—
lucas presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, pulling you into his chest on the outskirts of the lit up courtyard. around you is busy, lingering students and staff members alike chat and walk through the space with an upbeat pace.
every year since you've been attending the university of minnesota, the hockey team and staff members would host a barbecue and movie night in the schools courtyard. it was always an amazing turnout, and for only $5 dollars to get in and get something to eat and watch a throwback film (this year being freaky friday), it was quite the rage. plus, the money went to a fundraiser that helped public schools in the area have breakfast. so it’s a win win.
so not only do you go with the intent of supporting the youth of neighbouring schools, but your boyfriend is one of the co-organizers of the event. so of course you show your face.
which brings you back to the current moment, pouting up at lucas with the best puppy-dog eyes you can manage. lucas sighs gently, running his hands over your jean jacket covered arms. "don't give me that look."
you don't let up, but your lips begin to form into a grin. "what look?"
"the look you're doing right now." he laughs once, squeezing your biceps tightly. "you know I have to be all over the place, babe. I can't just stand with you."
your exaggerated, playful pout quickly changes into a real frown—even though you don't want to show that emotion. because lucas is one of the co-organizers of the event, he's got lots of duties to attend to while the event is happening. so although you're technically here to spend time with your boyfriend, you'll barley get to see him.
plus, cora is sick and had no choice but to stay back at the apartment and watch re-runs of friends, and rachel wouldn't be able to come until the movie starts—coinciding with when her shift at work ends.
"I know but..." you trial off, taking your bottom lip into your mouth anxiously. you've never been a huge fan of crowds—especially when it's tightly gathered in a confined space—and the idea of having to be alone right now is rather daunting. "can't I just help you? like just go with you?"
lucas sighs again, eyes flickering out to the crowd around you. the smell of cheap burgers and hotdogs are already filtering through the air, providing the most perfect early spring atmosphere for the evening. he meets your eyes once more, "it just won't work like that. hey, you'll be okay."
he kisses your cheek, doing his best to reassure you, but you still feel down. "right, okay."
"get yourself a drink and just chill—i'll find you when I can, okay?"
you send him a closed mouth smile, breathing through your nose in a gentle exhale. "okay."
with that he turns away, quickly moving through the lingering crowd as he makes his way into the courtyard. you huff lightly, looking around the sea of people to see if you recognize anyone—literally anyone you can stick with until rachel gets there. but nobody is there.
you eventually follow the crowd, entering the lit-up courtyard. it's decorated in various streamers and balloons representing school colours, along with a spread of beanbags and camping chairs set up for the movie. it looks really good, and even though it's not the warmest temperature due to the night sky, the collection of bodies and decor have the place feeling cozy.
you spot a long table through students, full of what seems to be drinks—various waters, juice and sodas lining the gray fold away surface. you sneak your way through, eyeing the options before inevitably deciding on water. caffeine will just make you anxious, and your favourite juice flavour wasn't an option.
in your peripheral vision, you see a member of the hockey team standing on the other side the table—presumably keeping track of beverages and taking payments. without properly looking up you begin shuffling through your clutch, "how much for the water?"
"it's free."
the all too familiar and cocky voice of matthew knies has you freezing. slowly, your eyes creep upwards, only to be met with the light eyes of his. he'd been the hockey player in your peripheral, and you curse yourself for not noticing sooner.
his brows raise, anticipating a snarky remark. but much to his dismay you turn away, walking back through the crowd and away from him.
he turns to mitchell, one of his teammates, patting his shoulder quickly. "mind watching the table for a sec—gotta do something." matthew doesn't even wait for a response before he's following you, easily making his way between the bodies crowded around.
matthew catches sight of you off to the side, seemingly unaware that he’s hot on your trail. he approaches you swiftly, getting your attention as he speaks. "you're like really bad at the whole socialization thing."
your eyes widen briefly, watching as he casually leans against the nearest table.
"maybe I just don't want to socialize with you." you retort, eyeing him pointedly before taking a slow sip from your water bottle.
matthew smirks. "that's mean."
"don't care." you answer, looking back out into the yard.
a beat passes. "you come alone?" matthew questions, seemingly curious.
you cross your arms. "sort of."
"sort of?" matthew parrots, eyes briefly scanning the crowd. "what's does sort of mean?"
you look at him again. "well I came with lucas, but he's busy so now i'm here...with you." the last part has you pulling a face, scrunching your noise is displeasure.
he snorts. "don't pretend like you don't enjoy my company."
"enjoying isn't quite the word i'd use to describe how I feel about you and your company." you retort lightly, brows pulling tightly.
matthew sucks his bottom lip, containing his grin. "okay, so why aren't you mingling? this is supposed to be a event of socializing."
"I'm not a fan of mingling." you tell him earnestly, clearing your throat in a moment of venerability. "or crowds. besides the fundraiser, I only come for lucas."
"yeah crowds aren't for everyone." matthew's genuine tone has you taken back, and you eye with an almost shock like gaze. "sorry that you're dealing with it alone."
you feel weird—why does the sincerity in his voice make you tingly? "well," you begin. "i'm not alone because you've insisted on coming over here to annoy me."
his smirk is back. "it is my specialty."
you laugh a real laugh, a very brief moment of quiet joy that takes you by surprise. the way his eyes twinkle and smirk widens at the sound of your giggle goes unnoticed by you.
"babe." lucas voice calls out, jogging up to you and matthew. "hey." he greets, pulling you into his side and kissing your temple. "I got a minute, thought i'd see what you were up to." his eyes flicker to matthew's. "see you've found a friend."
matthew's eyes don't leave you, waiting and watching for your reaction to your boyfriends words. you swallow gently, "he was just keeping me company."
"she's not a fan of crowds—thought i'd take a few minutes from work to make sure she's settled." this time when matthew speaks, he's only looking at lucas, and you don't miss the underlying message in his words.
lucas seems oblivious to the hostility underlying his teammates admission, a smile overtaking his face. "anyways, I gotta get back. gunner was telling me about this new club out on main—i'll catch you guys later."
as soon as your boyfriend is out of ear shot, you send matthew a furious glare. "what was that?"
"what was what?" he questions innocently, eyes yet to meet yours again.
"i'm not stupid, matthew, you were trying to..I don't know? like one up lucas by insinuating he's a bad boyfriend for not spending time with me. what the fuck." you spit angrily, gaze tinted with fury.
"I'm not insinuating anything, i'm simply just calling it as I see it." matthew retorts.
you breath a shocked laugh. "what the fuck is wrong with you? you're lucky he didn't catch on to your stupid little coded message." you take a breath, arms tightening over your chest. "he's your friend—why are you trying to ruin that?"
matthew takes a step towards you. "like I said, i'm just calling it as I see it."
"bullshit." you chime. "what's it to you that lucas is busy tonight and he's not able to spend time with me? seriously."
his brows raise, an amused expression on his face. he knows he shouldn’t argue with you, especially when what he wants to say will only further upset you—but he can’t help himself. "he's too busy to spend time with you, yeah? but tell me why we're in the same job position and I haven't left your side since I saw you. so call whatever you want bullshit, but the real bullshit is the guy standing next to his teammate doing absolutely nothing but making you look stupid."
matthew's words have you pulling back, face faltering. you feel emotion clawing at your chest, flushing your skin a rosey pink as the embarrassment and anger about the situation hits you all at once.
his face flashes with remorse, looking down at you with a lingering guilty gaze. his mouth opens slightly, as if to speak—but nothing comes out.
"fuck you." you hiss quietly before turning on your heels and leaving. everything in your body feels like it's on fire, walking through the courtyard with a determination you didn't even realized you had. you can feel matthew's eyes boring into your retreating figure, but you don't dare turn around and look.
he's right—god, he's fucking right. matthew not only calling out your boyfriends shitty behaviour but your obliviousness to the truth about the situation, stings you hard, and you didn't know what else to say or how to react besides the way you did.
you’re even angrier about the fact that even within the little attention matthew had given you tonight, was more than lucas had all day—and the time matthew spent at your side in the bustling courtyard, had your anxiety about the crowds fizzling.
STAGE 3: Denial
the sound of basketball shoes squeaking against the polished wood of a court has always been one of your least favourite things. it's a high pitched, constant sound that has you cringing every time.
you eyes flicker up towards the scoreboard—it's almost half time. it's a relief, and you are almost giddy at the fact that the stupid squeaking while be on a momentary pause.
lucas squeezes your thigh, right over your jeans. you look over at his gently, met with the sight of his curious grin. "what's up babe?"
you shrug, "just watching the timberdogs!"
"it's the timberwolves." he corrects you, eyes twinkling with amusement. you laugh it off, looking back out into the basketball court, eyes following the players as they zip back and forth on the length of the floor.
lucas' dad has always been super into basketball—like more that the average person. he's got a room in his childhood home that's designed to resemble the minnesota timberwolves court, as well as a plethora of jerseys and seasons tickets for every year.
you're not sure why his dad couldn't make it to this game—lucas had told you in the car on the way to the game but you'd been too distracted with everything else going on inside the vehicle to truly pay attention. maybe he was sick? it also could've had something to do with his car breaking down? you don't recall—but regardless, the tickets weren't being used, and they were offered to lucas.
you assumed it was just two—because lucas didn't have any siblings, and you would think it was just his parents attending these games. but no, there's four tickets, because it was always a group of 50 year old men attending together.
so what you hoped was a date night between you quickly turned into a little group outing with your respective roommates. which wouldn't of been such a problem if you weren't still reeling about the last conversation you had with matthew—in the courtyard when he practically called out your entire relationship.
the reminder makes you shift in your chair, angling yourself away from matthew even further. you can hear him sigh to himself, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as his leg bounces up and down with a feverish pace.
it's annoying—more than the shoes on the court. you huff, turning to look at him. "can you stop moving, it's distracting."
he turns to his head. "how is it distracting?"
"i'm trying to watch the game." you retort.
matthew's brows raise incredulously. "you've been watching anything but the game since it started."
"that's not true." it is true, and his call out has you feeling even more infuriated than when you first got to the arena. "I love basketball."
"sure you do." he nods, unconvinced. "instead of watching me then, get back to watching your timberdogs." matthew messes up the name of the NBA team on purpose, teasing you with your own fuck-up.
you huff. "you are so-" the sound of the buzzer echoing loudly throughout the court silences you, whatever insult you'd been conjuring up dying on your tongue. the players begin filling off the court as halftime begins, leaving the crowd to begin freely moving and walking throughout the stands and hallways—replenishing snacks and/or drinks.
on the opposite side of matthew, cora leans forward, looking at you with wide eyes. "hey! i'm going to get another coke. do you want one?" her voice is loud, and even still it's barley heard over the rowdy crowd.
"yes please." you smile. your roommate nods in understanding before getting up, making her way down the row of seats before disappearing out of sight—leaving you with only lucas and matthew.
matthew snickers—mostly to himself—eyes downcast as he fiddles with a loose thread on the knee rip of his jeans. "didn't think you were capable of such manners."
"didn't think you were capable of such big words! woah, i'm impressed." your face falls, words dripping with sarcasm as your annoyance builds higher and higher.
you shoot a look towards lucas, but are only met with the sight of him engaged in his phone—playing fucking candy crush of all things—completely unaware of the tension rising between you and his friend.
"of course your impressed." matthew insists, "everything I do impresses you."
the lingering crowd around you seems even more roudy than before, but your too enthralled with matthew to even look away and glance around. despite the noise, you can hear him fine—too fine, if you're getting specific.
your mouth drops, a tiny puff of disbelieved laughter leaving you. "oh so we're back on the 'y/n is obsessed with matthew train.'"
matthew slowly leans closer to you, his elbow nudging yours on the tiny shared armrest between your seats. his cologne invades your space—something clean like fresh laundry mixed with a spicy cinnamon. it's almost intoxicating, and you're left frozen in place.
"we never got off that train." his words are dripping with a teasing undertone, licking his bottom lip slowly.
a hand nudges matthew shoulder from the row of seats behind yours—gathering his attention. curious, you turn as well, finding a guy seemingly only a few years older than you, looking down at you both with a sheepish grin. "you guys are on the jumbotron."
both your heads whip back around, darting up towards the jumbotron hanging from the exposed ceiling of the court. much to your horror, you and matthew are on the screen—the image framed in a heart filter with 'kiss cam' scribbled across the bottom.
you and matthew both flush—although your heat is definitely more visible, trailing down your neck and appearing in splotches over your exposed chest. "no." you say, making a cut off motion beside your neck with your perfectly manicured nails. "we're not together."
it's no use— the jumbotron can't hear your pleas. matthew shakes his head, joining in on your attempt to get the camera off you both. through the screen you see matthew shift his attention to you, which has you whipping around to look at him. his gaze is almost soft—curious, maybe.
suddenly the crowd gets louder, their unison chants echoing through the building. "kiss kiss kiss!"
the commotion finally has lucas looking away from his phone, and at the sight of what's happening in front of him—his face falls. his brows furrow slightly, gaze switching between the jumbotron and the both of you—staring at one another.
lucas quickly grabs your face, turning you away from his roommate and planting a messy kiss on your lips. your eyes widen slightly, but eventually flutter closed—allowing your boyfriend to move his lips along yours.
matthew swallows roughly, looking away and back towards the screen. the camera has since shifted, showcasing you and lucas in the last lingering moments of the bruising kiss. the crowd cheers, but as soon as you pull away from him, the couple on the jumbotron changes.
lucas expression shifts, lips pulling into a frown as he pulls away from you—his hand quickly retreating back into his lap. "why didn't you nudge me?"
your mouth open and closed quickly, "I-I don't know."
"you don't know?" lucas's tone is quite, but firm, clearly unhappy with the situation that just transpired—even though nothing really happened.
you shrug, and blush once again, but this time is purely from embarrassment about the scolding from your boyfriend. "no, the crowd was looking and I just, I tried to say no but the camera wasn't hearing me. are you seriously mad at me?"
your eyes quickly flicker around the immediate area, making sure nobody is outwardly eavesdropping on your hushed argument.
"should I be?" lucas retorts, pulling your attention back to him. he's looking at you curiously, tinged with something that seems like hope as he waits for your response.
you swallow roughly, once shake of your head following. "no."
lucas exhales shakily, the corner of his mouth sliding into a grin. "okay," he mumbles, throwing his arm over your shoulders. "then i'm not mad."
you allow yourself lean into him easily, but your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and a million unknown feelings, and when you try and even begin to understand them, you're just left more confused.
the crowd begins filtering back into the arena, finding their original seats as the halftime clock begins winding down—the third quarter approaching quickly. cora comes back down the isle, squeezing past outstretched legs as small apologies spew past her lips.
you catch her eye, and her smile grows. "a coke for you." the posh, royal tone she often uses comes to a slow halt, passing you your drink as she eyes your somber expression.
you take the plastic cup. "thanks."
cora gives you a knowing look—one that says your sudden shift in mood will be discussed later in the comfort of your shared apartment. you're not sure why you're dreading that so much.
just as the buzzer sounds throughout the arena again, signaling the resumption of the game, your eyes flicker back towards matthew again. his jaw is tight, and you can see the tendons moving under his skin as he grinds his teeth together. matthew's leg is bouncing again, faster than before—his gaze locked on the court.
it's a longer glance than you intended, but you can't help yourself—something inside you is unwilling to look away.
that dreadful noise of shoes on the polished floor pulls you away, your nose scrunching as you inwardly cringe at the sound.
quickly, matthew's eyes flicker to you—only to be met with the side of your face. he watches gently as your face drops from the previous tight pull, your smooth skin stretching over your perfectly shaped nose.
the puffiness of your lips and the lingering blush on your cheeks, and the way your hair cascades down your back in the most delicate blowout...matthew can't help the way the faintest grin ghosts over his face.
the rest of the game thankfully goes by quickly, and before you know it you're all back in lucas’ car, making the drive back to your apartment located near campus. thankfully cora and lucas fill the lingering silence with pointless conversation—you and matthew only chiming in when necessary.
you don't know what exactly happened, but you know something has shifted. you don't know what it means, or what will happen because of it—and that has you feeling really weird.
as soon as you're back in the comfort of your own apartment, cora smacks her purse down on the counter, gathering your attention with the harsh sound. "what's going on with you?"
your shoulder deflate. "I don't know."
she frowns, walking further into the apartment where you've decided to flop dramatically on the couch. your pants pull uncomfortably around your waist, and the button is digging into your belly pouch like nobodies business.
cora sits down beside you, facing you with curious eyes. "did something happen at the game? it felt like when I went to get the drinks, I missed something."
"I was on the kiss cam." you breathe.
"okay?"
"with matthew."
"oh." she is momentarily taken back, blinking three times quick as she digests your words. cora is very much used to your and matthew's supposed hatred for one another, even though she's never believed it. but the look on your face at the game isn't adding up to just 'being on the kiss cam with matthew'.
cora's brows pull tightly, creating a deep wrinkle between them. "what else happened?"
"I think," you start, voice dropping as if you weren't the only two people in the room. "I think matthew wanted to kiss me."
her eyes widen to an unfathomable size. "what?! how do you know?"
your mouth opens, a sharp breath passing through your lips. "I just....I don't know, there was something about the way he looked at me. am I being crazy?"
instantly cora shakes her head, a gentle frown on her face. "no. the eyes never lie."
your expression droops in a mixture of confusion and fear, eyes beginning to glaze with emotion as you look at cora.
she continues, "and if he tried to kiss you, what would you have done?"
"I don't know." you exhale shakily.
you hear your roommate coo gently, wrapping her arms around you in a much needed hug. your eyes pinch shut, holding onto cora's arm as you continue the embrace.
you are so screwed.
—
how lucas managed to drag you to another loud and obnoxious frat party is honestly beyond you, but there you were—doing your best at mingling and letting loose while lucas was off doing god knows what with his teammates.
rachel thankfully ended up being at the party, and as soon as she ran up to you and made herself known—you didn't leave her side. which in hindsight maybe wasn't the best idea.
you love rachel, truly, but she's never been the best influence—especially when alcohol is involved. one minute your sipping your first seltzer, and the next you're stumbling over, 10 drinks in and screaming chappell roan lyrics like nobodies business.
which means right now you're hammered, sluggishly walking through the busy frat house as you attempt in finding your boyfriend. because drunk you is clingy—and a little horny—and all you want is the warm touch and attention of a man.
unaware, drunk bodies bump into from both sides—too caught up in the party atmosphere to even notice you. it makes the journey a bit harder, but somehow you haven't managed to fall on your ass, so you'll count that as a win.
"y/n?"
the sound of your name has you blinking, looking around the room until you locate the culprit. matthew's hand touches your exposed shoulder, grabbing your attention. his brows pull together, and he bends his knees slightly so he's able to properly look into your eyes. "hey are you with me?"
you blink. "your eyes are like really pretty." a fit of giggles follows your slurred admission, tumbling forward slightly as you clutch your belly.
matthew's hands steady you easily. the combination of your shitty balance and surprisingly playful and kind words tells him all he needs to know about your current state—you're drunk.
"where's lucas?" he asks you, beer can abandoned on a side table beside one of the terribly stained couches lining the makeshift sitting area. matthew eyes you again, "or did you come with cora?"
you shake your head. "cora's a loser and had to work—so here I am."
he can barley understand you due to the slurred, sluggish string of words, but he catches the jist of it. "so you're alone."
"no..." you retort, huffing like you're annoyed. "lucas is here. wait! have you seen him?"
"not for hours." matthew tells you. "I think you need to go home though."
you whine a protest, shaking off the hand he'd still had on your shoulder. matthew isn't having it, and before you can register what's going on, he's grabbing the meat of your biceps, guiding you to the couch before sitting you down.
"hey!" you huff, falling back against the cushions—wow, for a frat couch it's really comfortable.
"i'm going to find lucas, okay? stay here." matthew tells you firmly before walking back into the heart of the crowd, on a mission to find your boyfriend. it's actually not a hard task, and he's only looking for a minute or two before he spots lucas—in the back corner with a couple guys from the team and some mystery girls, all laughing and passing around a joint.
"hey," matthew starts firmly, grabbing the groups attention. lucas brows pull, taking a slow drag from the joint resting between two loose fingers.
"lucas man, y/n needs to go home—she's practically black out."
lucas groans, passing off the joint to the blonde girl closest to matthew—the same girl who's been eyeing him since he walked up to the group a few moments ago.
"fuck, man. I forgot she was here."
his word have matthew's jaw ticking, eyes squinting pointedly. "you forgot your girlfriend was here?"
lucas, ever oblivious, doesn't catch the irritation lacing his roommates words, and he only shrugs nonchalantly before taking a hearty sip of beer. he looks at matthew, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. "listen, I'm still having a good time. can you like, take her home?"
matthew can barley hold back a scoff. "seriously?"
"i'd really appreciate it." lucas says. "I can trust you, right?"
that really rubs matthew the wrong way, because what the actual fuck is he even trying to insinuate with that comment. before he can bite his tongue, matthew's anger comes boiling to a point. "yeah, because i'm not some no good boyfriend who's spending his time doing drugs and flirting with 18 year olds while my girlfriend is alone and vulnerable."
lucas blinks, taken back—but matthew doesn't care. matthew sends one more harsh glare towards him before leaving the area, weaving back through the party.
when he reaches you again you're practically sleeping, holding your knees to your chest and using them as a pillow. your face is squished, your blinks slow.
"we're going." matthew tells you, gently nudging your knee.
you groan, lifting your head. "where's lucas?"
"he's not coming."
"oh." you sigh, blinking with unshed emotion. your hair is wild, like you've been sweating and running your fingers through it all night—which you have. and if matthew wasn't so frustrated with his roommate right now, he'd probably tease you about it.
matthew helps you off the couch, wrapping his arm around your waist to provide you with some stability as he guides you both outside.
the fresh air is shocking, sending you into a fit of shivers almost immediately—despite the mid may warmth. thankfully it's not a long walk back to the apartment, and matthew only has to stop with you twice because you claim you're going to throw up—spoiler alert, you don't.
you stumble out the elevator, tripping over your own two feet. matthew grabs the back of your tank top, halting you back up. "okay, slow down."
"but i'm tired." you whine, head falling back dramatically.
"you're gunna be real tired when you smack your face off the ground and end up in the ER." matthew let's go of your shirt, but takes ahold of your wrist, practically pulling you down the hall towards your apartment door.
"I don't want to go to the ER." you tell him, eyes widening with panic.
matthew's almost amused, sending you a small smirk over his shoulder. "okay, then let's get you inside."
"okay." you nod in agreement. thankfully the door is unlocked, because matthew didn't even want to start asking you about the whereabouts of your keys while you're this obliterated.
you sigh happily, kicking off your shoes messily before stumbling through your dark apartment. blindly, matthew finds the switch beside the door, flickering on the overhead light.
as soon as the room becomes illuminated he located you again, lounging half on the couch. he moves towards you, his smirk growing. "that's not your bed."
"it's not?"
he stifles a laugh. "no."
you whine again, head lolling to the side dramatically. "can you take me there?" your arms extend out towards him, resembling a mummy. "please. don't be mean."
matthew gulps gently, but takes ahold of your hands, pulling you back into unstable feet. "i'm not mean." he tells you, letting go of your hands. it proves to be a mistake because your immediately falling backwards.
matthew curses, grabbing you before you hit the couch and pulling you back up. you laugh, feeling very much like a ragdoll. you look up into his eyes, "you are too."
"you're mean too." he says, wrapping an arm around your hips and looping his fingers through your belt loop. he begins walking you both down the hall, "you're the one who calls me names."
you gawk loudly. "i'm only defending myself, matthew."
"whatever you say, y/n." he hums playfully. "which room is yours?"
you tell him that it's the room at the end of the hall, and allow matthew to continue guiding you to your bedroom. he nudges the half open door with hip, opening the threshold completely.
he drops you to the bed, and you go easily, falling against the unmade pile of blankets with a smile on your face. "where are your pyjamas?"
you lazily point towards the tall dresser next to the door. "top drawer."
matthew nods, pulling it open and immediately stifling through the jam packed drawer. he manages to pull out a t-shirt and plaid pants—ones he's seen you wearing at his place before. he tosses the items beside you. "think you can manage that?"
you sit up quickly, a lazy scoff falling past your lips. "yes." you grab onto the pyjamas, and before anything else your eyes widen, glancing back to matthew. "turn around."
matthew snickers at your tone—obviously he was going to turn around, but seeing you get so worked up over it has him left amused. he turns on his feet, broad back facing you as he looks into the dark hallway—patiently waiting for you to change.
you begin taking off your tight, alcohol sticky clothes, desperate to get into something comfortable and climb under the blankets. you lift your shirt over your head, and the momentary lack of vision has you stumbling, falling into the chair beside your vanity.
you hear matthew's quiet snicker. "shut up." you grumble, pulling on the pyjama shirt.
"didn't say anything."
"you thought it." you retort. eventually you get into the pants as well, and immediately climb into your bed. the sound of your delightful sigh and ruffling sheets have matthew peeking over his shoulder, making sure you were decent.
once he sees that you are in fact dressed, he faces you again. "do you need to be sick?"
you pause, is if you were assessing yourself to find an answer. a beat passes, "don't think so."
he hums doubtfully, walking towards your vanity and taking ahold of your tiny trash bin sitting underneath. you'd emptied it that morning, so there was nothing but a makeup wipe and a few q-tips in the bottom from when you'd gotten ready. matthew puts it beside your bed. "just in case you're lying."
"excuse me," you huff, squinting pointedly. "I don't lie."
he ignores you, picking up the stuffed zebra sitting on your bed, wedged between the pillow and the headboard. matthew snorts, examining the matted fur and scratched button eyes of your most prized possession. "awh, who's this little guy?"
you push up, snatching your zebra from his hands and bringing it to your chest. "don't touch ross with your filthy hands."
"his name is ross?" matthew snickers as you cuddle the stuffed animal, rubbing your cheek against the top of its head.
you nod. "yes."
"cute." he hums.
your eyes feel heavy with sleep, and it has you falling back towards the pillows, your beloved ross smooshed against your face. matthew swallows gently, watching the way your breath begins to even out and your blinks become slower.
"goodnight, y/n." he whispers.
matthew walks out your room, slowly shutting the door behind him—but just before the latch click, you mumble his name. it has him pausing, slowly pushing the door open once more.
you're looking towards the door lazily. "can you stay with me.”
matthew's face falls, swallowing roughly at the sight of you—laid out on your bed, completely relaxed and pretty. you don't even know what you do to him, and it drives him insane. he sighs. "no. I can't."
you pout, a breathy wind blowing past your dry lips. "pleaseee...lucas never stays with me."
the mention of your boyfriend has matthew scoffing, the conversation they'd had earlier coming back to him in a angry wave. "lucas is a dick."
he's expecting your to scold him, so matthew is surprised when your gentle giggles float through the room. "such a dick." you slur in agreement.
a moment passes, and your quiet giggles slowly die. wordlessly, your hand comes out fromunder the covers and pats the spot beside you—inviting him on your bed.
matthew's breath hitches, but he doesn't walk away. matthew softly shuts the door before walking back through your room, stepping over stray shoes and your discarded party clothes on the way to your bed.
"I don't bite." you grin teasingly.
matthew can't help the smirk that makes its way onto his face. "doubt it."
your smile mimics his, and that has matthew getting onto your bed, sitting atop the covers and leaning his upper body against your plush headboard.
it's only a few more minutes before your gentle snoring is heard throughout the room, a tell tale sign that you've fallen into a deep sleep. matthew watches you for a moment, letting the peace linger between you—a peace that has never been between you before.
matthew's eyes begin to feel heavy, and before he knows it, your soft snores are lulling him to sleep.
STAGE 4: Ignorance
when you woke up the following morning, you were in a state of confusion, still dealing with the lingering affects of alcohol and trying to re-collect your memories from the night before.
with a groan, you got out of bed, shuffling down the hall and into the living room. thankfully, cora is still sleeping after he late night shift—so you're in complete silence as you pour yourself a hefty glass of ice water.
it comes back to you in flashes, each blurry memory worse than the last—rachel convincing you to have another drink, followed by another, the loosing rachel at the party and having to walk through the house while hammered. then matthew is bringing you home, without lucas for a reason you don't recall—matthew in your room, changing behind his back, him touching ross...you pleading for him to stay.
your breath hitches—a mixture of embarrassment and hangxiety hitting you at full force. then you feel yourself panic, your stomach dropping. had you even checked beside you this morning? was your boyfriends best friend still in your bed?
you quickly—much quicker than you should be moving when you're that hungover—make your way back down the wall, sheepishly peeking into your bedroom.
he's gone. and that makes you feel worse than before.
you don't see him for the whole day, and then the next day comes and you still don't run into matthew knies. not in the hallway of your apartment building, and certainly not in the elevator. you don't see him at school, or even at the hockey rink. the one time you spend the night at your boyfriends, matthew is nowhere to be found. almost two weeks pass, and you haven't seen him at all.
it's making you anxious, and not only can cora tell—sending you looks of pity anytime you're making dinner together—but lucas can tell something is up with you too.
anytime he'd ask, you'd brush it off with a easy excuse—you're tired, or you have a headache—but it was never believable, and it was becoming repetitive.
did you say something to him? did you do something to him? you're reeling with possibilities of what could've happened between you and matthew knies to have him actively avoiding you.
but honestly, you're no better, and after a few days the anxiety of it all was getting to you—and you begin actively avoiding him as well. you call in sick to work anytime your shift is during a game, and you've only spent time with lucas if it's at your apartment. you leave early for class with the hopes of avoiding running into him, and you stay behind late for the same reason.
it was exhausting but you couldn't help it.
so when cora texted you this afternoon about meeting up for lunch between her classes, you easily agreed. wednesday's were your free days, with no classes to take up your schedule—moping around your apartment while dealing with the mess of emotions in your head wasn't your most ideal choice of productivity.
so with only an hour until cora's lunch gap, you strip out of your pyjamas, tossing on your robe before making your way to the bathroom. you throw your hair up, only intending to wash your body and hopefully clean off any lingering lazy and anxious energy from your skin.
you sigh, pulling back the floral printed shower curtain. immediately, you scream, jumping backwards as the sight of a large, brown spider that greets you—scurrying up the walls before slipping back down.
your eyes begin welling up with tears as dry sobs rack your body—of course there's a fucking gigantic spider in your bathtub.
you rush out the bathroom and make a beeline for the front door, pulling it open with the upmost urgency. you don't even close it, speed walking down the dimly lit hallway until you're at your boyfriends apartment.
your knocks are frantic, perfectly capturing the emotions your feeling. thankfully it's only a few moments of your panic stricken knocking before the handle turns, the door opening to reveal not lucas.
matthew's taken back at the sight of you—hair piled on top of your head with a makeup stained robe around you, bare feet on display. quickly, his eyes land upon your face, and the sight of your tears and pale skin has him faltering. "what's wrong?"
you swallow roughly, a few tears trailing down your blotchy cheeks. "I went to take a shower, and there's a huge fucking spider and i'm so scared of bugs—I don't know what to do, I need help." you're a babbling, sniffling mess, eyes darting between matthew and back down the hall.
"it's okay." he says quickly, stepping out into the hallway. "i'll kill it, okay?"
you nod, blowing out a shaky breath. "okay." for as long as you can remember you've had a crippling fear of any and all creepy, crawly insects. something about the way they scurry around quickly, unable to know what it's thinking and what it's planning to do to you, never fails to leave you shaking.
your fear has completely taken over your body, and it's the only reason you're able to speak to matthew knies without remembering the past few weeks between you—or rather, the lack there of.
you follow him back to your apartment timidly, trialing behind his broad shoulders like a lost puppy. he breathes gently as he enters, grabbing one of the extra shoes at the front door—the spider killing weapon of choice, clearly.
"it's in the tub." you mutter, eyes darting down the hall. matthew nods, walking towards the bathroom like he's not about to battle the eight legged beast residing in there.
he pulls back the shower curtain further, and you peek around his bicep—locking eyes with the creature. you shiver, a disgruntled moan leaving your mouth. matthew looks back at you. "sure you wanna watch?"
in all seriousness, you nod. "I need to know it's dead."
"okay," he hums, grip tightening around your floppy, strappy sandal. the spider is still crawling around, attempting to escape over the lip of the bathtub but inevitably falling back down.
it's definitely not as big as you described it, but matthew doesn't even dare bring that up. at least, he won't until the spider is gone and you're returning back to a normal heart rate. he brings the shoe up before quickly bringing it back down, but before it can be smooshed, the spider scurries away.
you squeal once again, eyes filling with salty tears as you grip matthew's arm—hiding your face is the soft material of his sweater. "its moving!"
he has a hard time stifling his laugh, looking down at you with an amused expression. "why are you cryin?"
"i'm scared." you mutter, fingers digging into his arm muscle. "hurry up and kill it—oh my god, i'm going to be sick."
matthew rolls his eyes, the action laced with fondness rather than irritation. "well I can't kill it if you're holding onto me for dear life." he watches the way your eyes dart towards the grip on his bicep, and you quickly release him, taking a small step backwards.
now with his arm free, he approaches the tub again, and this time when he brings the sandal down, it finds the spider, smacking the unwanted insect with a sickening plat.
you practically gag, wringing out your hands in disgust at the sound.
matthew looks at you again. "you good?"
hesitantly, you nod. "yeah."
thankfully matthew cleans up the remnants of the spider from your white tub with some toilet paper, eliminating any disturbing evidence of its existence.
as he does, and your frantic state comes back down to normal, you come to the shuddering realization of what's happening—matthew, the man you haven't since since your impromptu sleepover, is standing in your bathroom—all while you cry and stand naked under a robe.
he flushes the paper down your toilet, the hallow flush echoing through your ears. matthew turns back to you, sending you a closed mouth, awkward smile.
you hate this—this isn't the matthew you know. you hadn’t realized how much you missed his annoying remarks and infuriating smirk until you no longer had them. you're panicking again, expect this time it's because you don't want him to leave and you never see him again.
you clear your throat, stepping in his path. "I haven't seen you."
his brows pull tightly, eyeing you up and down curiously. "what do you mean?"
"you've been avoiding me." you huff, nerves settling low in your belly. you’re not even worried about how desperate you sound, and you play with the string of your robe with nervous, trembling hands.
"only because you've been avoiding me." he retorts firmly.
"what?" you breathe roughly—exasperated. even though you so badly want to say that you haven't, it would be a lie. you have been avoiding him, and clearly he's caught onto the fact. so you decide to play coy, and somewhat petty, crossing your arms. "i'm literally with you right now."
matthew snickers. "not by choice."
"and since when have I ever spent time with you by choice?" you question lightly.
matthew's almost playful expression falters, and a more serious look blossoms over his features. he swallows gently, adam’s apple bobbing prominently. "since you've never decided to walk away."
your mouth opens, nothing but a hitched breath coming out. you blink once, and then again, feeling nothing less than speechless from matthew's words.
his eyes dart over your face, taking in your seemingly surprised reaction. he too blinks roughly, shaking his head slightly as if he didn't mean to say that aloud. matthew clears his throat once, "i'm sorry for being all weird these past couple weeks," he pauses, eyes finding yours, "I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
you frown. "you didn't." a gentle, shaky laugh leaves you, "if I'm remembering correctly, I begged you to stay."
his lips quirk upwards in a smile, "more like pleaded."
"okay!" you laugh in amused disbelief, covering your eyes with a still shaking hand. "don't remind me."
"but you see, this reaction is going to make me remind you at every possible opportunity." matthew teases, reaching towards you until his fingers gently brush yours, moving your hand away from your blushing face.
your eyes flicker back to his, smile falling as you blink up at him. you gulp gently, feeling your stomach swoop with a combination of emotions—nerves, confusion, fear, denial...need.
matthew's eyes slowly trace over you face, lingering on your damp lips before reluctantly tearing his gaze away. but he can't help but to drink you in further, admiring your exposed neck and collarbones—the fuzzy peach housecoat and the crazy hair—the silver initial necklace hanging around you, dangling above your sternum like the perfect accessory. it's all so new and so you.
your gazes meet again, and this time you sigh, a breathy noise that shoots right through matthew.
you blink, and without knowing what to do, you look away, back towards the shower. "how do you know there's no more spiders?" you question timidly, an awkward, unsure laugh following.
matthew holds onto his sigh, turning back to the bathtub. he puts his hands on his hips, stepping closer. "hello? anybody here?" he directs into the shower, looking around the porcelain white walls comically.
you smile fondly just as he looks back to you. "no more spiders."
something is seriously changing between you and matthew, and that makes you feel even more anxious than before. as you finally shower—speedily because you're still scared of the possibility of more creatures—and get ready for lunch, you can't help but wonder.
the what ifs and possibilities all involving your boyfriends roommate are very prevalent in your head, even as you begin to walk to a local campus cafe. as soon as you sit down, you're spilling your guts to cora.
no, you think, you can't like matthew because it's wrong—it's crazy. you're in a relationship, and a few months ago you hated him...at least, you thought you hated him.
and as you expressed it all to your friend, she listened with nothing but love and understanding. when you eventually stop your panicked ramble, cora sighs, looking at you like she just knows.
in that moment you know—the eyes never lie.
STAGE 5: Breaking
you scan the page of your textbook carefully, reading the history material in the hopes of applying it to your research assignment—but your mind is in a million other places.
since you've come to the realization 3 days ago that you have some sort of feelings for matthew, you haven't stopped thinking about him. you're still not sure what it is exactly you feel, so in all honesty you don't feel guilty about it—at least, not yet.
you blink, focusing your eyes as you attempt at reading the same paragraph again. the library is thankfully empty, meaning there's nobody to provide any type of distraction—the last thing you need is another distraction.
well, you're not completely alone, lucas is sitting across from you, typing away on his laptop as he attempts at starting his assignment that was due tomorrow. god, just thinking about that stresses you out. his legs stretch out underneath the table, invading your space, as well as his things spread across the tabletop—providing little to no breathing room.
all day there's been a lingering, awkward energy between you and lucas. he's been unusually quiet, and anytime he did talk to you it was quick and uninterested. unfortunately you've been too busy within your own head to notice the sharp glances he's been sending you, and the way his lips pull into a frown anytime you'd make a sigh of frustration or worry.
it was constant—and lucas was at his breaking point. as you have to restart the scentence again, a tiny huff leaving your lips, he shuts his laptop, the heavy click echoing throughout the library.
you look up quickly, brows pulled together as you eye him. "you okay?"
he huffs in disbelief, "your mind is like somewhere else recently—it feels like you're just a host of a body. it's like you don't even want to be with me." lucas tone is dripping with frustration, sounding nothing less then condescending and irritated.
you blink quickly, taken back from his sudden outburst. slowly, you put down the pen you'd been using to follow along with the words, eyeing lucas with a confusing tilt. is he joking? the last person who should be complaining about anything like this is lucas.
his face stays stern—looking at you like he's just watched you kill his dog. he's not joking.
you scoff quietly, but the disgusted tone is more than prevalent. "seriously? that's rich coming from you lucas. it feels like you haven't wanted to spend time with me for the past three months."
"that's not true." he retorts quickly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
"is it not?" you question sarcastically.
"no!" lucas practically shouts, leaning on the table as he eyes you wildly. "you sound stupid right now."
the remark that you had dies on your tongue, mouth snapping shut. your jaw clicks as it tightens, anger coursing through you at lucas' insult. "how come you didn't take me home at that party a few weeks ago?" you question softly, a knowing look in your pointed gaze.
he wasn't expecting that, and it has him flattering slightly, leaning back as he blinks two quick times. lucas runs a hand through his unruly, light hair, tugging at the root in frustration—trying to think of answer.
"I don't know...fucking seemed like matthew had it under control." he swallows, pausing for a moment. "why does it matter?"
his admission give you confirmation you hadn't realized you'd been looking for. you laugh in disbelief, "yeah, well it seems like matthew is the only one who cares about me."
it was a low blow, one that has lucas' anger rising rapidly—but it was your truth, and you know that now.
"yeah too fucking much." he snarls.
"sorry that he cares about me—unlike you."
lucas jaw tightens, eyeing your face with a look you've never seen before. "we need to break up."
you look at him with disbelief and disappointment, your lip beginning to quiver. "so you're not even going to deny it? not even going to try and fight for me?"
this conversation has taken a turning point you weren't expecting—at least not today. there's nothing but anger between you, but yet you're not upset about being broken with. you're upset because you feel stupid, and everything you've feared about your relationship is true. lucas may love you, but he doesn't care about you.
his eyes flicker with something unknown, and he sighs, "I don't think you want me to."
you close your textbook and shove it into your bag, pushing off the table as you hastily get to your feet. "you're a dick." you don't wait for his response, leaving the library with your heart in your hands.
you push open the grand doors, and immediately you're enveloped in rain. you curse, tightening the hold on your book bag as you begin speed walking in the direction of your apartment. it seems that the rain only gets harder as you go, pelting against your skin like mini bullets and completely soaking you.
it's the cherry on top of everything, and you can't wait to get home, strip completely naked and cry in bed.
the sigh of relief is loud as you finally get back to the apartment building, walking into the lobby like a wet dog. you make a b-line to the elevators, not making your usual stop in the mail room—something that was habit anytime you'd come home.
you wring your hair out between your hands, the water hitting the elevator carpet with a small plopping noise. thankfully, it doesn't stop and you make it up to your door without any interruptions.
you sniffle away the emotion creeping up your chest, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. you only make it a few steps before a door is opening, distracting you.
it's lucas and matthew's apartment, and our steps the latter, gym bag slung over his shoulder. you come to a slow stop without meaning to, looking at him with a soft, yet curious gaze.
his eyes dart to you, but as soon as he sees the state your in he's moving, stepping closer to you with a worried expression. "woah...you okay?"
just the caring tone of his question has you welling up with tears, and it feels like everything is crashing down on you all at once. the confusion, the anger, the heartbreak, the lust, the curiosity...it's all there, drowning you.
you shake your head, mouth opening and closing unsurely. "I-I don't...i'm so." your voice is shaking, and you're borderline hyperventilating as you attempt at getting a coherent sentence out.
matthew lets his gym bag slip off his shoulder, hitting the ground with a hard thud. he takes ahold of your biceps, squeezing the fleshiest part firmly. "take a fucking breath, y/n, you're gunna make yourself sick."
closing your eyes, you take a few deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself down from the sudden emotional attack set upon yourself. it takes a minute, but eventually you feel yourself begin to relax, your heart rate slowly creeping back down.
you let your eyes flutter back open, meeting the concerned ones of matthew. your brows pull tightly, a nervous gulp following. "why are you looking at me like that, matthew?" your question is barley above a whisper, as if you were almost scared of the response.
"like what?" he breathes, not once breaking eye contact.
it's almost intimidating, but it's also confirming of so many things. but of course, you're hesitant—heck you're scared and nervous and so unsure about what's going on between you. your brows are still drawn together, creating a tiny indent in the middle of your forehead.
matthew has to fight every urge in his body to not run his thumb over the indent to smooth it out.
"like...like you fucking care about me. like you want me." you answer firmly, eyes frantically moving around matthew's face as you attempt at gauging his reaction.
he doesn't release the hold on your biceps, his gaze turning completely soft. "y/n." he says your name knowingly, fingers gently running up your arms. that’s his answer.
"matthew." you exhale shakily, distracted by the gentle pressure of his fingers on your skin. "you're making me all..."
"all...what?"
"confused." you say honestly, looking up at him with the most vulnerable expression he's seen.
matthew swallows roughly, jerking his hands off your body like you just told him that's he's burning you. "i'm sorry"
the soft, hopeful look on his face doesn't falter, and if anything it increases. "no," you shake your head, "stop."
"what? stop apologizing?" he questions with a frown.
"no," you repeat, "stop looking at me like that."
a moment passes before he speaks again, his words laced with desire— stressing his words. "I can't."
another beat of silence, nothing but the hitching breath of both and you matthew to be heard. you lick onto your bottom lip, "lucas and I...we broke up."
"you did?"
you only get one nod out before matthew rushes forward, grasping your face like he's been waiting for the opportunity since he was put onto the earth. you tilt your head back instinctively, and it's just timed as matthew leans down to kiss you.
the kiss is instantly desperate, the clashing of lips and teeth alluding to so. your tongues glide across each others like second nature, elevating the kiss to a higher, more intense level. it's exhilarating—it's right.
you sigh into his mouth, trembling hands reaching up and grabbing onto matthew's wrists—keeping him against you. you've completely forgotten that you're soaked from head to toe, and how you've just had a fight with lucas that lead to a break up...it's all lost in matthew.
his hands slide farther back, fingers intertwining with your wet strands of hair. it's a gentle and welcoming pull, and you can't help but sigh in pleasure.
matthew follows suit, groaning into your messy kiss. it's been months and months of tip-toeing around one another, too scared to admit the truth in fear of ruining everything and everyone else along the way. but now it's just you two, and matthew can't help but moan at the thought.
the elevator doors slide open, and you’re both pulling apart instinctively at the sound.
but as lucas stands there, jaw ticking with anger as he stares at you—you know it's too late, and he's just seen you making out with his friend. or better yet, he's seen his friend making out with his newley ex-girlfriend.
"are you two fucking serious?"
your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. it looks bad, you know it it does—mostly because it is bad. you've been thinking about matthew for much longer than you care to admit, and the first thing you did after getting broken up with is run into his arms—letting matthew kiss you like you're both horny teenagers.
"lucas..." matthew trails off, turning to his roommate with a guilty laced hesitation.
but lucas is only looking at you, that same disgusted smirk on his face from the library. "can't even remember the last time you kissed me, but yet the first thing you did after leaving the library was make out with my roommate. I didn't realize you were such a slut."
you inhale sharply, tears quickly welling up in your eyes.
matthew rushes forward, and before he can logically think of the consequences of his actions, he punches lucas square across the face.
"matthew!" you gasp, moving towards the two men with concern pulling at your face. "no."
he doesn't hear you, looking at lucas as he clutches his jaw. matthew's gaze narrows, shaking out his hand. "don't fucking talk to her like that."
your ex-boyfriend laughs in a mixture of shock and disbelief, stretching his jaw out before he looks back at you. lucas doesn't say anything else, turning and leaving down the buildings stair well.
you're shocked, embarrassed and guilt ridden—your watery gaze locked on the empty space lucas was only moments ago occupying.
"y/n?" matthew questions gently, snapping you out of your own head.
you blink hard, shaking your head. "i'm sorry, I just need some space." you turn away from matthew before he has the chance to answer—mostly because you're too scared that if he begins to speak you'll crawl right back into his arms.
matthew watches you walk away, and all he can do is stand there, focused on your fleeting figure as he slip into your apartment—your lip trembling without another glance in his direction.
his face is contorted, not in anger, but in a look of concern. guilt flashes across his features, and he can't help but groan, running a palm over his face in frustration. did he just loose you for good?
you shut the apartment door behind you, and the tears begin falling down your face at a rapid pace. your lips tug into a frown, a sob wracking through you as you lean back against the door.
cora rounds the corner at the sound, her eyebrows pulled in concern. "what's wrong?" she breathes, rushing towards you.
"I did something terrible." you admit through your stuttering gasps, looking at your roommate with a million different emotions.
"honey..." she coos, wrapping you in a hug. your tears intensify as cora squeezes you in the embrace, and you bury your face in her shoulder to mask your desperate cry.
Epilogue
“god miller! just kiss me already!”
“no, not like this!”
you groan, falling into the couch cushions. the scene on the tv illuminates the room, the late afternoon sun hidden behind the blackout curtains you’ve had drawn since this morning.
nick and jess from new girl have not only been giving you entertainment all day while you mope around, but they’ve also been stupid cute and in love—it makes you want to die.
you’ve only been two places since the chaotic ending to last night; your bed which you cried in all night, and the couch which obviously you also cried on. you keep running through the events of yesterday—the breakup with lucas, finding matthew in the hallway, borderline confessing your feelings to him…kissing him. it felt good—so so good.
but just like that it was snatched from you, and the guilt riddling your body is just nerve wracking and wrenching. while you were kissing matthew, the last thing you were thinking about was lucas, and the possibility of him finding you both like that wasn’t even in your mind. but it happened and now everything feels like a mess—and you feel like an awful person.
you’ve clearly hurt lucas—that much was evident in the awful things he said to you. when you told cora everything last night, eyes stinging with tears and snot dribbling from your nose, she was quick to remind you that lucas never treated you good, and that no matter what he shouldn’t of said that to you.
your phone buzzes against your thigh, making you sit up—brows furrowed in question.
lucas
are you home?
you pause the tv quickly, all while reading the text over and over again as you try and make sense of it. what does he need? does he want to talk? is he going to yell at you? is he simply just curious? does he want to fix your relationship?
you hold your breath as you shakily type your reply.
y/n
yea
you exhale as it goes through, and in habit you bring your thumb to your lips, nerves consuming you as you begin gnawing on the skin around your nail.
your phone buzzes with an incoming message again.
lucas
can I come talk?
you swallow, sitting up straighter as you read his message. this can’t be good, you think—you’ve done nothing positive in the last twenty four hours that warrants a civil talk with your ex. you desperately want to ignore him—throw your phone across the room and get back to new girl on the tv.
a show that you only started watching because it’s matthew favourite—your brain reminds you. you look down at your phone again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you contemplate.
you deserve not only closure, but happiness—not matter what.
y/n
sure
you barley have a minute of speed running the apartment, picking up the empty tub of ice cream and what feels like hundreds on snotty tissues from your crying, before there’s a knock at your door.
even if you didn’t know he was coming over, would could tell it was lucas by the weight of the knock. it was soft, almost hesitant—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually be at your door. it always sounded like that.
before you back out, you pull open the door, revealing yourself to a deadpanned face lucas who’s standing with his hands shoved in his pockets. he gulps, eyeing your figure briefly. “can I come in.”
you nod reluctantly, stepping to the side to create enough room for him to slip inside your apartment. lucas sends you a forced smile as he enters, moving through your place like he’s done many times before.
the door shuts with a gentle click, but the room is so tense and quiet it sounds like a bomb. you follow suit, walking into the living room where lucas stands stagnant—eyeing around the apartment with an unsure expression. suddenly his eyes meet yours, “did you cheat on me?”
“no.” you tell him. “I would never cheat…on anybody.”
he sniffs, the sound annoying and disgusting—it’s like he’s trying to stay calm. “but you like him, right? you like matthew?”
you’re so used to trying to please him that you want to stay quiet—because you know if you admit your feelings for his friend, everything is going to completely change…more than it already has. and as lucas looks at you now, his gaze nothing but knowing, you decide you’re done trying to hide from him.
“I do.” you confirm. “but nothing ever happens, and…I didn’t even know when these feelings started. i’ve been so confused for the longest time, and I was scared because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.” you pause, wringing out your trembling fingers as you collect your next thoughts. “but i’m sick of doing things for everyone else…and I need to let myself be happy—whatever that ends up being.”
lucas stay silent for a moment, but you can see his mind running a mile a minute. his eyes dart all over you, analyzing your face and body language—you’ve never seen him look at you so intently, and it has you wanting to shy away.
he sighs, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m sorry, y/n—for everything.”
your shoulders deflate, and you feel the emotion you’ve been suppressing since lucas texted you coming back to the surface. “thank you. i’m sorry too.”
“can I give you a hug?” his hesitance is evident, looking at you like he’s unsure of your response—how you’ll react. looking at him right now, you can’t be mad at him. not about your relationship, the breakup or the name he called you in his rage. lucas is a good guy, you know that—he’s just not the guy for you.
“yeah.” you breathe. “i’d like that.”
lucas takes the three steps of distance between you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he brings you into his chest. your hands find place around his waist, holding him against you in a wordless goodbye. his cheek rests on the top of your head, a comforting gesture that has your eyes flickering shut.
he takes a deep breath—his words quiet as he speaks. “I think we met for a reason, y/n. and that reason is matthew.” you feel lucas swallow against you, like he knows what he just said is the final nail in the coffin—everything starts now. “have you noticed how he looks at you?”
you pull back, and watch as the corner of his lips begin to turn upwards—the faintest smile growing. lucas may not like it, but he’s accepted it, and it’s feels better than anything you could imagine. your own smile begins to show, and you nod. “I have.”
matthew knies was an enigma—a giant, infuriating mystery that you never expected to entangle yourself in. but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in the past few months, it’s that you’re easily intrigued, especially when the enigma has always cared for you, no matter how rude and stupid you acted towards him.
perhaps you never hated matthew, but rather the way he made you feel. you hated the idea of being in love with him because you had a boyfriend, so you'd turn into an easily irritated girl, who secretly wanted nothing more then the attention of the boy down the hall. the boy who was more of a boyfriend than lucas could ever be. the boy who you don't hate, but love.
of course, there’s still the lingering feelings of confusion and nervousness—because you don’t know where you and matthew will go from here.
but later in the day, on you way back from your evening class, as the elevator doors open to your floor and matthew stands there—a grin growing on both your faces at the mere sight of one another…you think you have an answer.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
playlist
every breath you take (i'll be watching you) by the police
pushing it down and praying by lizzy mcalpine
wrong by zayn
your needs, my needs by noah kahan
do I wanna know? by hozier (cover)
each time you fall in love by cigarettes after sex
if I can't be with you by olivia obrien
I would by one direction
#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic#matthew knies#matthew knies imagine#matthew knies fic#matthew knies x reader#matthew knies fanfic#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#nhl x y/n#nhl smut#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#hockey imagine#hockey x reader#hockey fic#hockey fanfiction#hockey smut#toronto maple leafs imagine#toronto maple leafs x reader#toronto maple leafs smut
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KAE YLANGELEGY WHEN I FIND YOU.......
but also. thank you. i got the notification for this while i was having a really really shitty day at work, and knowing that i had your writing to come home to made really was a light at the end of the tunnel. and so i must annotate this fic bc it makes me HAPPY and YOU make me happy:
Click.
tara diamonddaze01 #1 lover of onomatopoeia is HERE and i am already in love. the things i would do to freeze every moment spent with jeonghan.... print them and frame them and reminisce about memories.....anyways i digress its literally the FIRST WORD when will i learn how to RELAX
Your phone at eye-level; its camera, trained on him. There you are.
your camera is trained on him, but jeonghan is trained on you. a beautiful metaphor for how, in your world, he’s the subject of every picture—every thought, every moment. But in his, you’re the only thing in focus. and THEN the "there you are." really hits home - he sees you. i love the idea that the real you begins where the camera ends
This is how he knows he loves you: Your laughter always felt like a small victory. Even before, he’d crack jokes in staff meetings and his eyes would immediately go to gauge your reaction.
say it with me: i LOVE love. and i LOVE this assertion that jeonghan doesn't want your laughter to feel like he's funny (he knows he's funny) but he wants it to feel like he's yours. i love the idea that he collects these victories, these pieces of you like a hoarder. it's subtle, this love - the kind that sneaks up on you in fluorescent-lit rooms and powerpoints presentations; the kind that falls in love with the way your eyes crinkle when he tries to make you smile.
I love you, Daesang winner Yoon Jeonghan!
I love this line, I love the heartfelt emotions that just...sneak up on you. the declarations of love that are sudden, that catch you off guard and make you laugh.
siderbar: oh ur so evil for the beautiful soul mention...... but the lyrics "I don’t want another pretty face / I don’t want just anyone to hold" play so BEAUTIFULLY off the line about laughter being a small victory. jeonghan treasures your laughter - something as intangible and as unique as your soul; jeonghan doesn't try to impress, but the small victories are a connection to you, and you laughter is vulnerable, real, and uniquely yours
i could wax poetic about song lyrics and your writing forever but anyways i digress...
At the twenty-minute mark, Jeonghan finally huffs, “I’m ignoring you.” “Hm?” you say distractedly, and he resist the urge to chuck your phone into the nearby lake. “I said,” he repeats. “I’m ignoring you.” You glance up at him, unamused. “You are literally talking to me,” you note. “Well, I was ignoring you before that.” “Were you?” “Yes. You didn’t notice, so I thought I’d inform you.”
kae you write your characters with so much love - jeonghan is so fucking ENDEARING i want to put him in my pocket. oh yoon "must-have-the-last-word" jeonghan how i adore you so
Jeonghan is supposed to be sulking, but that small word— we— has him fighting down a smile. It’s his account, his digital footprint, but you’re the mastermind. You’re the one behind the man, the myth, the legend.
i'm so :((( no one TOUCH ME. his reaction is so.... on the surface, jeonghan is the charismatic, untouchable legend, but beneath it all, you’re the one grounding him, supporting him, making sure the myth doesn’t outshine the man. you’re the quiet, steady presence behind the scenes, and jeonghan loves you for it in ways he probably doesn’t even know how to express fully.... i want to kiss him....
“Get some photos of your actual boyfriend,” he grumbles.
sulky pouty BABY come HERE let me KISS IT BETTER!
siderbar: i had never listened to zild before this but oh my god i love this song. my fav lyric so far: "Gagawa ako ng kanta, / Na ikaw ang pamagat" ("I will make a song/With you as the title"). I feel like this mirrors the line "It’s his account, his digital footprint, but you’re the mastermind." - you are the one behind his image. your presence in jeonghan's life makes him who his is; he may be the “legend” in public, but in private, you’re the one crafting the story behind the scenes. this is mirrored so well in Lia by the sentiment of putting someone at the forefront of a creation. oh to love someone to the point of creation....
He didn’t want a civil breakup. He’d much rather go out kicking and screaming than have something amicable.
oh jeonghan.... here comes my character analysis because kae writes like honey and i am drawn in like a fly:
idk i feel like this jeonghan just thrives on intensity and raw emotion - the imagery of a breakup being "civil" feels so foreign to him because he’s the type who prefers things to be messy, uncontained, and loud. he doesn’t want the quiet closure; he wants something that feels like it mattered, something that leaves a mark. there’s this craving for validation, to feel like the end of something—whether it’s a relationship, a chapter, or a part of himself—needs to be remembered. If it’s civil, then was it even real? Was it even worth the effort?
re: “kicking and screaming” - he wants passion, he wants fight, he wants to know that you two struggled for it. it's like this deep-rooted need to avoid anything that feels too easy, too comfortable. he’s the type to throw himself into the storm of emotions, to feel the thunder roll through his chest, even if it means suffering. because in the suffering, there’s proof of how much it all meant. A quiet goodbye just wouldn’t feel earned for someone like this. he wants to be remembered
if i got this wrong kae pls ignore me. LMAO. ONWARDS!
Jeonghan tugs at your hand and shakes his head. Focus on me, he’s wordlessly saying, and for once, you do.
what a beautiful line - for someone who has spent the entire relationship looking over her shoulder, making sure no one is watching, it speaks volumes to finally lay it all to rest, to see him, to just be.
You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand reassuringly. “I’m not throwing anything away. I’m just compromising.” “I don’t want you to have to compromise anything for me.” “Compromise is part of a grownup relationship, Hannie. It’s a good compromise.”
[sobbing violently] something something to be loved is to be changed...something something to love is to compromise...something something to love is to make space for growth.... no one look at me ever again.
sidebar: oh my GOD tum se hi mention you want me DEAD okay!!!!! one of my favorite lyrics from the song are "Main tera sarmaya hoon" which literally translates to "i have become your property" but stylistically it means "I am because of you". something about that line + this jeonghan makes my heart break in ways i didn't know was even humanly possible. there's this the profound sense of belonging and dependence that the lyric evokes. it’s about becoming something through the other person, because of them—there’s this raw vulnerability in it that makes my chest aches. Jeonghan knows he is because of you, he's so intertwined with you in a way that makes him feel whole.
When he goes to kiss you, it bears none of the threatening front that he’s trying to put up. It’s a slow, sweet thing. A glimmer lighting up his cotton sheets. He only pulls away when he can no longer physically manage to keep kissing you. There’s the beginning of a grin on his face as his breaths come out in short pants, as his eyes stay closed. He’s savoring the moment, trying to remind himself how damn lucky he is even if the cost involves running his own SNS accounts henceforth. But then you’re laughing, your fingers threading through his hair. You tug Jeonghan back down despite the fact that you’re just as breathless, and his lips curl into a full-on smile when they meet yours.
I apologize i have nothing intelligent to say here. my brain is broken and i am in tears because DEAR GOD i am in love with this man!!!!!!!!!
tldr; kae you have, and i kid you not, my whole entire heart. every character you write is like a thread of gold, and you weave together tapestries of love and life that make me feel. you stitch warmth and light into the fabric of the worlds you create, and when you step back to look at it, there’s this masterpiece that’s almost too beautiful to touch—but you do, and it feels like it was always meant to be held. The way you turn even the smallest, quietest moments into something that glows is like witnessing magic in motion—everything you touch turns to gold, and I feel lucky that i am allowed to feel its glow.
so disconnected 📵 jeonghan x reader.
if jeonghan's 'boyfriend material' posts are on point, well— you can thank his girlfriend.
★ jeonghan x social media manager!reader. ★ word count: 2.6k ★ genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff!!!, txt's soobin is mentioned, down bad!jeonghan, jealous!jeonghan. some smau elements. not proofread; we go out swinging, baby. ★ footnotes: "kae if i wake up to a single shred of jeonghan on ur page..." ¡sorpresa, @diamonddaze01! no further notes, your honor.
🎧 now playing: disconnected by 5 seconds of summer — i admit i'm a bit of a fool for playing by the rules, but i've found my sweet escape when i'm alone with you.
Click.
Jeonghan hasn’t even looked up and yet he already knows what he’ll find when he does. Sure enough, when he shifts his weight onto his other foot and glances away from the TikTok he’d been watching— there you are.
He wishes he could see your beautiful face. Alas, it’s obstructed by the sight that he’s grown used to associating with you.
Your phone at eye-level; its camera, trained on him.
“Yah.” His high-pitched bid to feign annoyance is a futile one. Everybody knows that Jeonghan could never be truly irked by you, no matter how masterfully you pushed his buttons sometimes.
After clicking away for a couple more minutes, you finally lower your phone.
There you are.
Jeonghan swears he’s not a sap, not what those people call ‘simps’. But something about your smile always makes him a little weak in the knees, makes him want to be The Best Boyfriend In The World, bar none.
He gestures for you to come closer. Once you’re within reach, Jeonghan is already wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in.
“Don’t do that,” you snipe as he brings you into his chest. “We’re in public!”
Jeonghan can’t hide the way his eyes roll. “I don’t care. This isn’t public. It’s the parking lot of your apartment building,” he says dryly.
“Still public.”
“Still don’t care.”
You go to shove at Jeonghan’s chest. He responds by tightening his hold on you, a sound of protest rising from the back of his throat.
“C’mon, just a minute.” He buries his face in the top of your head, breathing in the soothing scent of your shampoo. It makes something in his chest flutter. “I’ll let you go, just— give me a minute, sweetheart.”
He can sense that your acquiescence is begrudging, but he takes it nonetheless. A win is a win, he thinks smugly as he takes the opportunity to hug you a little tighter.
It’s been three months since you finally agreed to try dating Jeonghan, though you had insisted that it be kept on the down low. Something about decorum, discretion. Workplace violations? Jeonghan doesn’t really remember; he had been a little too excited at the prospect of finally being yours that he wouldn’t have minded any condition in the world.
The past weeks have unironically been some of the best in Jeonghan’s life, though there were probably some things he could do without.
“It’s my day off, you know,” he mumbles into your hair, “which means it should also be your day off.”
You giggle, and the force of it has your shoulders slightly shaking against Jeonghan’s chest.
This is how he knows he loves you: Your laughter always felt like a small victory. Even before, he’d crack jokes in staff meetings and his eyes would immediately go to gauge your reaction.
He liked making you laugh. He liked being the reason behind your smiles. And, God, did he like you.
“Let me think about it.” There’s a hint of teasing in your voice, followed by a little ‘hmmm’ of faux thoughtfulness.
He’s about to bite back at you when he feels your hand at his hip, somewhat leaning into his embrace, and he instead channels his energy into holding back a dreamy sigh. You go on, “No, I don’t think so. Go pose by the wall for another picture.”
Jeonghan leans back a bit, just enough so that you can see his furrowed eyebrows as he whines, “But I’m Daesang winner Yoon Jeonghan!”
The title is a new one. Five days recent, in fact, and Jeonghan is hoping it will cut him some slack.
“Okay, Daesang winner Yoon Jeonghan,” you say without missing a beat. “Go pose by the wall.”
Jeonghan peels himself away from you with a grumble. He knows he’s acting a bit like an overgrown child— stomping as he walks, pouting when he leans— but he trusts that you’ll find it endearing.
You pull out your phone’s camera app. Jeonghan is ready to frown the entire way through, maybe sass you that you only told him to pose by the wall but you didn’t say how he should look.
But then, instead of “One, two, three…”, you call out something else entirely.
“I love you, Daesang winner Yoon Jeonghan!”
He can’t help it.
He laughs, and you click away.
jeonghaniyoo_n ♫ Jesse McCartney - Beautiful Soul
jeonghaniyoo_n hang up the telephone and just be here with me Liked by pledis_boos, vernonline, and 1,932,049 others View all 2,109 comments
One pro of dating your social media manager, Jeonghan would argue, is all the ‘vacations’ that the two of you can go on. You’re there for every tour stop, every concert, and Jeonghan absolutely revels in the hour or two he can steal away with you.
If only he could get you to stop working.
He knows that you’re technically on the clock more often than not. Managing an idol’s social media presence was no small feat, and your entire shtick was about making Jeonghan look as desirable as possible on SNS. You’ve been doing a terrific job so far, if his steady rise in followers was anything to go by.
Still. Jeonghan has been attempting to give you the cold shoulder for the past 15 minutes. Attempting, because you don’t even seem to notice that he’s gone quiet— too busy on your phone to pay him any heed.
He shoves his hands into his pockets and clears his throat. He doesn’t even have to glance at your screen; he knows you’re probably on Lightroom, fine tuning the press photos of him from earlier this morning.
At the twenty-minute mark, Jeonghan finally huffs, “I’m ignoring you.”
“Hm?” you say distractedly, and he resist the urge to chuck your phone into the nearby lake.
“I said,” he repeats. “I’m ignoring you.”
You glance up at him, unamused. “You are literally talking to me,” you note.
“Well, I was ignoring you before that.”
“Were you?”
“Yes. You didn’t notice, so I thought I’d inform you.”
The beleaguered sigh you let out is not a new thing. Jeonghan has been on the receiving end of your exasperation for as long as he’s known you.
At least there’s a hint of guilt on your expression as you tuck away your phone. “Sorry,” you mumble. “Everybody’s posting follower ranking listicles since it’s the end of the year. I wanted to see where we were placing.”
Jeonghan is supposed to be sulking, but that small word— we— has him fighting down a smile. It’s his account, his digital footprint, but you’re the mastermind. You’re the one behind the man, the myth, the legend.
He’s down so bad for you that it’s not even funny anymore.
“And?” he prods, his earlier chagrin smoothed out into something that sounds a lot more like resigned affection. “How’s it looking?”
The frustration that takes over your expression makes Jeonghan want to coo. It’s nothing short of a miracle that he manages to hold himself back.
“We still haven’t beat out Choi Soobin.” You frown like the other idol has personally wronged you by having a higher follower count. “His boyfriend material photos are too damn good.”
“His what?”
You whip out your phone. Jeonghan watches with growing incredulity as you pull up Instagram, and he’s less than pleased that user page.soobin is already one of your more recently searched accounts.
When you shove your phone underneath Jeonghan’s nose, he’s treated to the sight of Soobin’s feed. “Boyfriend material photos,” you double down, like having a visual might somehow explain things away.
Jeonghan snatches your phone from you. “I heard you the first time,” he says irritably. “But what does it mean?”
“It means that he looks like somebody’s boyfriend,” you shoot back.
Oh, Jeonghan does not like that.
He doesn’t care if it’s just a term for a type of photo. The thought of you perceiving anyone else as ‘boyfriend material’ makes a muscle in his jaw tick.
“Do you think,” he says coolly, keeping his eyes trained on your screen, “he looks like ‘boyfriend material’?”
“I mean, yeah—”
You’ve barely gotten to the end of your sentence before Jeonghan is handing you back your phone. “Where are you going?” you call out as he marches a couple of paces away.
He looks equal part determined and peeved when he turns to face you. You have your eyebrows arched upward, but he’s more focused on making sure his good side is angled towards you.
“Get some photos of your actual boyfriend,” he grumbles.
jeonghaniyoo_n ♫ ZILD - Lia
jeonghaniyoo_n we put the world away Liked by xuminghao_o, min9yu_k, and 1,000,289 others View all 2,109 comments
The day you tell Jeonghan about your plans of resigning, his first thought is Well, that was good while it lasted.
His attempt at being unaffected is a shaky one. You can tell by the way he holds his paper cup just a little too tightly, the way he keeps smoothing out invisible wrinkles on his coat. His poorly concealed distress makes your expression soften, which is somehow worse.
He didn’t want a civil breakup. He’d much rather go out kicking and screaming than have something amicable.
And he most especially didn’t want to be broken up with in some random café in Tokyo. He has half a mind to ask why you couldn’t have waited until the two of you were back home.
Jeonghan swallows hard, like it might somehow help him swallow the panic simmering in the pit of his stomach.
“Good for you,” he finally manages to respond. “You’re overworked here, anyway.”
“That’s not the reason why I’m leaving.”
Jeonghan hates how calm you look. The two of you had watched— and judged— one too many dramas, and so he’d imagined a breakup with you would be something like that. A rain-soaked street, choice words that neither of you could take back.
Not you stirring sugar into your coffee like this is not a relationship-defining conversation.
When Jeonghan doesn’t respond, you continue. Your voice goes a touch softer, and he’s struck with the fear that you’re trying to let him down gently.
“I’m resigning because of you, Hannie.” That nickname— the one that once felt like a Daesang in its own right, when you first bestowed it on him— now makes Jeonghan’s heart feel like lead.
“Because of me,” he repeats.
His mouth is dry. His hands are clammy. He’s thirty seconds away from getting on his knees and begging you to stay, the rest of the café’s patrons be damned.
Your next words are spoken like an unshakable truth. “Because I love you.”
You—
The look on Jeonghan’s face must be priceless; you start to laugh, and the sound of it eases some of Jeonghan’s fraying nerves.
“I love you, and I want to be with you. Properly.” Your lips purse for a moment. “Well, as properly as being with an idol will allow, anyway. At least I won’t have to worry about getting called in by HR if I’m working someplace else.”
Workplace violations. Right. That had been a thing.
All the emotions hit Jeonghan like a truck. Relief (that you’re not breaking up with him), then affection (that you’re willing to do this for him), then guilt (that you’re willing to do this for him).
He reaches across the table to place his hand on top of yours. Your eyes instinctively glance around your surroundings, checking to see if anyone is looking your way. Jeonghan tugs at your hand and shakes his head. Focus on me, he’s wordlessly saying, and for once, you do.
“I love you, too. More than you know,” he says. “But I don’t want you to throw away your career for me. Who’s to say you won’t resent me down the line because of it? I— I couldn’t live with myself, sweetheart.”
You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand reassuringly. “I’m not throwing anything away. I’m just compromising.”
“I don’t want you to have to compromise anything for me.”
“Compromise is part of a grownup relationship, Hannie. It’s a good compromise.”
He must not look convinced, because you take things a step further. Instead of just clasping his hand in yours, you move to intertwine your fingers. There’s some comfort in the familiar feeling of your fingers in between the spaces of his.
“Nothing is being thrown away,” you repeat, your tone brooking no argument. “I will not hate you tomorrow because of this.”
Here’s the thing: Jeonghan trusts you implicitly, and not only with his SNS passwords. He trusts your no-nonsense attitude, your unshakeable feelings, your typically sound judgement.
He wants to trust you now. He wants to believe so, so badly that there is something on the other side for the two of you, and that something would be exactly what the two of you deserve.
He tongues the inside of his cheek as he considers your words. When he speaks, his voice is a lot smaller than he intends.
“What about the day after tomorrow?”
The initial confusion that flits over your expression is replaced by that grin he adores.
“I’ll still love you the day after tomorrow,” you promise.
He presses, “And the week after that?”
“The week after that, too.”
“What about the month after?”
“I’ll do you one better— the year after, too.”
You’re laughing, laughing in the way that he’s always tried to make you laugh, and it’s all Jeonghan needs to trust that things are going to be okay.
jeonghaniyoo_n ♫ Pritam, Mohit Chauhan, Irshad Kamil - Tum Se Hi
jeonghaniyoo_n my getaway, my favorite place Liked by ho5hi_kwon, everyone_woo, and 2,000,001 others View all 2,109 comments
Click. Click. Click.
“What are you doing?”
“What,” Jeonghan huffs, “A guy can’t take photos of his girlfriend?”
You throw a pillow in Jeonghan’s direction, though your terrible aim has it soaring right over his head.
Ever since you left his company, Jeonghan has enjoyed an array of benefits that come with dating someone who is not your co-worker. The biggest of which happened to be all the time he’s now free to spend with you, most of which he’s happy to kill in his apartment.
He’s still a little bit petulant about your new job, though, and he likes to voice it out as often as he can.
“I bet Soobin has tons of photos of you,” he grumbles.
You pretend not to hear him. Jeonghan tries again.
From the foot of the bed, Jeonghan begins to crawl over your legs. Your annoyed tsk goes ignored as he takes your laptop and sets it aside, dragging you away from your social media planning for page.soobin.
“He better not fall in love with you,” Jeonghan warns.
You let out a low hiss before swatting at your boyfriend, trying to get him off of you. He doesn’t budge, instead caging you in with his arms on either side of you.
When he goes to kiss you, it bears none of the threatening front that he’s trying to put up. It’s a slow, sweet thing. A glimmer lighting up his cotton sheets.
He only pulls away when he can no longer physically manage to keep kissing you. There’s the beginning of a grin on his face as his breaths come out in short pants, as his eyes stay closed. He’s savoring the moment, trying to remind himself how damn lucky he is even if the cost involves running his own SNS accounts henceforth.
“I’ll give you your laptop back,” he murmurs, satisfied to have had an ounce of you.
But then you’re laughing, your fingers threading through his hair. You tug Jeonghan back down despite the fact that you’re just as breathless, and his lips curl into a full-on smile when they meet yours.
He’d been happy with an ounce, yes, but who is he to complain when you give him the whole damn lot?
jeonghaniyoo_n ♫ 5 Seconds of Summer - Disconnected
jeonghaniyoo_n Do not disturb. 📵 - YJH Liked by sound_of_coups, joshua_acoustic, and 3,392,034 others View all 30,109 comments
diamonddaze01 NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO ylangelegy just fell to my knees 💔 happy for you, king yourusername :-)
#dont mind me just sobbing bc the loml wrote me something#and dear god what a masterpiece it is#using tum se hi against me is CHEATING!#but who needs literature when i can just read kae's writing#kae doesn't write they paint and sculpt and leave us with masterpieces#thank you#i adore you#i will love you to the ends of the earth kae#tara reads#svt: yjh#user: ylangelegy#my beautiful moots! 💫#my fav constellations 💫#📝 annotations
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Bout that essay titled 'A study of Gortash's twisted love of humanity'- yk what fuck it here goes nothing. Back into a facists megalomaniacs mind we go. Spoiler; this is long.
But first of all; let's do a thought experiment. Let's just assume, for shits and giggles, Gortash's position would've somehow been swapped with any other the other chosen or another Banite:
Let's start with the Banites: if we had gotten anyone except for Gortash Baldur's Gate would've been fucked. Like genuinely. Banites are cruel, vicious, unashamedly gaudy (they suck ass at infiltration missions) and they exploit loopholes perhaps even better than fiends. Any other Banite would've simply reveled in the fear caused by rampant myrkulites and bhaalists and probably stoked that fire by employing some of their own forces. And depending on whether the Zhents join the winning side or not they would've probably used and abused the black network to absolutely dominate trade and potentially choke out every non desirable in the city itself by fun activities such as grand scale slavery, starving an entire city, or simply employing enough mercenaries and some Bhaalist to get the job done. Banites fuck everyone over so hard they usually don't even stop at themselves, and prideful cruel beings who know absolutely no bounds in their desire for power commonly don't hesitate, especially not Banites who thrive in backstabbing. So the other chosen and the grand design are fucked cuz they will most certainly get removed for the sake of someone more desirable the second they somehow irk Banes favourite toy. Which in some specific cases (all of them) would be in 5 minutes flat. If you thought the local nobility was bad just wait until you see a Banite in their natural environment.
Ketheric: Yeah Baldur's Gate is fucked. Ketheric cares about one thing and one thing only; Isobel. And he employs a bunch of sadistic necromancers who have no concept of personal boundaries or consent for that matter, so chances are he'd let them roam freely in Baldur's Gate, making the streets a huting ground for his followers to find prime subjects to perform inhumane experiments on all while he turns a blind eye; either busy trying to get Isobel under his (mind-) control, reviving her or treating a brainless puppet that looks and once was his daughter like his one true solution to decades of grief and fucking up. He wouldn't care about what happens to the city, to the other chosen or even the grand design. He'd follow his gods orders but thats about it and no matter whether that's still Myrkul or Bane; everyone's fucked cuz surpringly the guy who adores lichdom more than life and the other guy who'd rather 'burn everyone's fields than loose' aren't about to give out any orders that will benefit anyone but themselves.
Orin: Another great case of 'yeah Baldur's Gate is fucked'. Orin wants one thing and one thing only: recognition. Preferably from Bhaal but she'd take anyone at this point. The problem about this whole thing is, she's been conditioned and instilled with so much self-loathing my dearest murder princess can't even begin to realise when she's getting shown any sort of adoration anymore and immediately understands it as mockery, see, for example, her butler. Is what I would say if their corpse wasn't chilling in Durges old bedroom. All Orin would do is stage ever grander and more elaborate public massacres and involuntary 'anatomy displays'. Baldur's Gate wouldn't simply be fucked; give her a week, and the majority of it would be dead. This works well for Bhaal, but for anyone else, it would kinda suck. Including the other two of the dead three. And the cult would probably still loathe her simply due to her not being a true Bhaalspawn, so cue Orin's madness reaching an absolute boiling point. She doesn't and would never care for any of the other chosen or the grand design. Unless she's reigned in, she's a utterly loose canon, even more so than she was already, with Gortash or Durge at the helm, respectively.
Now time for my favourite of the reckless murder hobos; Durge. Given the few in game notes we have Durge had a thing for obliteration. Including but not limited to every living being + themselves. So let's just assume Gortash’s cocky upstart charm and Orins assassination attempt didn't work out as planned and they are still the de facto leader but now without any leash. Baldur's Gate is probably obliterated. Alongside whatever else remains of the sword coast. Or Troil. They'd probably also have some weird ass fuck relationship with the brain cuz they already did without being the undisputed leader. And the brain would probably discard the grand design themselves cuz somehow Durge has that effect on things (might be the innate charm magic of Bhaalist priests that they use to convince people to join a literal murder cult). Either way, with Durge not giving a single damn about the other chosen, any plans but Bhaals (or their misunderstood version of it) and a dramatic love for self-obliteration, it may finally be time to remedy the elves' mistake and rip Abeir-Toril apart properly. Ao hates this trick, alongside everyone else, probably including Bhaal himself.
Which is all my longwinded way of saying; Gortash is the lesser evil. In any set of circumstances he displays enough leniency, monster fucker vibes and rationality to somehow keep this ruined, sinking ship from hitting the sea floor immediately. He has enough of a twisted love for humanity left, compared to the others, to a degree that he doesn't blindly follow orders or actively seeks the destruction of everything, let alone 'true' domination the way Bane intends to have it.
But yes, indeed, Gortash performed fucked up and cruel experiments. No doubt about that. And yet it was still on a lesser scale than a mad massive hoard of necromancers could, and his experiments, for the most part, actually yielded results, didn't they? Presumably, the Coginator and the remote control brain mechanism used for the Steelwatch. After all, there are zombies(?) in there, controlling that shit. However, the experiments on loving families were probably one of his selfish indulgences and his sorry attempt at figuring out if he was just born loathsome and his family sucks ass or if that's normal and humanity doesn't deserve a second chance. Or a 30th. FR lore is fucked up.
This is also a great transition to exhibit B of my thesis why Gortash does in fact love or is at the very very very least heavily intrigued by humanity; the sole existence of the Steelwatch. Listen, my guy serves Bane. Bane hates planning. He likes immediate results. So much so he actively pisses off his situationship Bhaal for it. Repeatedly. And he likes fear and tyranny. So what do you think the chances are that the black hand would actually enjoy the thought of a mecha army patrolling the streets of Baldur's Gate, keeping them save, and worst of all, instilling hope in the hearts of the populous, peasants and nobles alike? Yeah, absolutely fucking none. And yet Gortash did that. And he's not even just a regular banite. He's Banes chosen. He carries a part of Bane's divinity within himself. He has the de facto highest position in the local faith. He's Banes favourite toy rn. He's the centre of attention and he still goes out of his way to use things that could 1000% inspire fear and hatred to sow fucking hope and a sense of safety of all things in plain sight? I bet his adorable wrinkly ass that Bane wasn't happy and that even a thousand rituals to redeem his leniency won't save him from getting tortured extra hard for this fuck up. And considering the state of the Banites scriptures we found, and his entire character, Gortash is smart enough to know this is something Bane absolutely loathes. And yet my guy did that.
Another thing is the hive mind. Bane would probably not hate it outright, as its still 'burning the fields' by turning souls illithid, but it's wasted potential. Because there's so many great things you can do with a hivemind and the remote control over people's thoughts and emotions, for example instilling fear and terror the very things Bane loves. But that's, once again, not Gortash plan. If the notes and one of the evil endings is anything to go by the hivemind doesn't trap people in a state of torment, it does the polar opposite. People are happy, enjoying a better, simpler and nicer life. Enjoying an idea of what their life could've been like. They're smiling, happy, enjoying a casual market stroll and the bountiful rewards of the fields. Which is all things that a good Banite should hate and never inflict on someone. AND YET that's presumably Gortashs plan. Create a hivemind where everyone can dream happily and do soulless labour without noticing it while the world goes to absolute shit but the people do not. It's basically noah's arc. It's paradise in hell. The people are 'saved' while the gods continue to fight their petty games, and Gortash alone lords over this perfect dream. Protecting it answer using it to advance further.
Now, about the busts found in his office. Most of them depicted rather unsavoury, cruel people. Except for one. Which honours a self made person who took pity on those who had less. On those considered lesser by the upright and honourable citizens of the Gate. It's weird how, between all those symbols and testaments to cutlery and tyranny, there's still a sliver of empathy, renegade justice and even care for fellow humans imbued, isn't it? And what's even weirder, all of them are found in Gortash's most private place? His own little office hidden far above the grandeur of the throne room and the Fortress, where he sits at the helm, lording over his subjects and scheming his little plans? This is an excellent example of show, don't tell btw. It's hitting you over the head with the implications. But just in case, this might very well be a reflection of Gortashs mind itself and the visible expression of him being incapable of letting go of humanity as a whole, still carrying it somewhere not even that well buried between the resentment and cruelty but out in plain view for everyone curious enough to touch it because what others reason would he have tob'play the benelovent ruler' in a place where no one sees it? Where only his most trusted and fellow Banites mingle?
And, ofc, as I am a durgetash truther, another exhibit. Him fucking Bhaals gore baby and putting a leash on it prematurely. You see, I've already talked about Banes likes and dislikes plenty so it should come as no surprise that the Edgelord Surpreme wouldn't hate carnage wrought upon foolish mortals by idiots who follow lesser gods than himself, since it would still somehow contribute to people being scared and panicking. But Gortash, being the ever faithful fuck up of a Banite, reigns in the Bhaalist and even the Myrkulites enough for that to kinda never really happen. He stopped the carnage from happening altogether, in fact, by giving the others enough scraps to keep them satisfied and from acting out but not enough freedom to fuck up his plans. I mean, heck he was apparently so convincing he managed to get Durge, again, biggest fan of self-obliteration, from going on an apocalyptic rampage cuz 'daddy I like his brain and I don't mean for dinner'. Him doing that actively contributed to preventing another Bhaalspawn crisis, which could've very well happened with Bhaals resurgence and revival, 2.5 loose canons and no ward of a random old guy in sight. But also him providing a clear goal and orders for Ketheric kept the lich from giving in to the sweet release of just not caring at all whatsoever. Everyone had their designated roles and boundaries and that was perhaps the only thing keeping this group of mentally unstable creatures from unleashing an apocalyptic nightmare; which again would've worked in their gods favour and technically didn't need any prevention.
And about the Gondians... Yeah this is gonna sound fucked up, cuz it is, but Gortash is actually treating them exceptionally nice. Their families are actually still alive and its not just a lie he's telling them, we don't actually see anyone getting flayed, strung up or tortured in some other way outright, they actually get to wear clothes and presumably they're fed enough to a degree that most of them can still somewhat work and the collar and the threat of your head exploding does suck but he could've also simply chained them to their work stations but they aren't. Let alone use charms or other beguiling and fucked up magic to force them into complacency. And they're not being resold or redistributed or forced to serve some random ass guy. The Gondians are, from a Forgotten Realms and probably Bane's perspective, treated exceptionally well. As are their families. Still undoubtedly fucked up and kinda sadistic with the whole explosion collar but objectively speaking he's one of the nicer slave masters. And they do allow him to produce the Steel Watchers en mass which once again contributes to the overall safety of Baldurs Gate and its other citizens. Still the lesser evil.
Though to be fair; Gortash also did some things Bane would really celebrate. Like somehow cheating his way into obtaining the Iron Throne, fucking Bhaals favourite and most fucked up """"child"""" and of course, keeping his parents alive and in agony to eternally fuel Banes fear kink. Except, it's only Sally who's afraid. Dravo is basically a blue screen of death personified at this point. He's a hollow, numb husk, isn't he? So somehow this once again doesn't align with Banes goals and Gortash's duty as a Banite. He's fucked it up again. But Gortash could've also simply killed them if all he wanted was revenge. Why go out of your ways, program elaborate scripts into them, keep the very place that testaments his fucked up past in good condition? Because a quick death would be too merciful? But then why is he so quick to turn on Durge if they betray him in a much smaller scale than his parents did. Well, perhaps he chose not to simply kill the very people who prepared Belladonna in the kitchen when he came to visit because he himself still needs them. Because underneath all that rage and spite there's still a broken boy who wants to hear his parents, albeit empty praise, and who wants to prove to them that he can be better? That his useless playing around actually helped better humanity, that he himself helped countess people and made lives better when all they thought he'd be useful as would be a pawn?
So, is it twisted? Yes. Is it rotten? Absolutely. Is it anything you'd consider to be 'conventional'? Absolutely not. But he does hold some wildly fucked up 'love' for humanity, if only as means to a grander goal (that being himself, ofc) or perhaps cuz he's genuinely incapable of letting go. Whether it's that, to spite Raphael, Bane and his parents or someone else, who knows. Probably nobody. But the shit he does is unorthodox and oddly self-sacrificial in a way where I just can't go, 'yeah no he absolutely loathes the sheer existence of the concept'.
I still think it's a missed opportunity he's not trying to build a spelljamming port though. I feel like he would absolutely do that somewhere down the line, if only to limit the black networks influence.
#okay thx for reading enough madman ramblings#i am that meme#yk which one#thats how it looks inside my brain 24/7#also not to expose myself as a weeb but#gortash is literally the light yagami or eren yaeger of baldurs gate#becoming the lesser evil and a genocidal maniac so 'his' people may experience a moment of peace safety and respite#one might even say he shares similarities witn griffith or bondrewd#but i won't cuz i dont need a hatemob to find me#anyway thats it folks#i condensed it nd kept it as sane as i could#don't wanna hit tumblrs letter cap again#been there done that already#yk i could've spent this time working on my longfic and cultivating ideas of how gortash would simultaneously elevate and fuck up the city#if he lived through bg3 cuz i like that idea#but here i am detailing how deranged he is#oh well just gotta keep thinking about the toxic old man yaoi even harder now to make up for it#imagine me going on a madmans ramble like this but for my blorbo#and their fucked up relationship#i rly should do that one day#bg3#enver gortash#bg3 gortash#lord gortash#i just noticed i forgot the orphan pipebomb bit#more on that later ig#also why i'm at it his general approach is similar to calcazar but their motivations are still different#it's hard to put into words without me spinning the argument in my mind for a lil longer but yeah#wouldn't say they're on common ground
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Grojband, but as a band from an early 2000s shoujo manga
#I was literally just going about my day and then this idea hit me like a truck and I couldn't do anything else until I drew this#I'm apparently still on the nostalgia train and have no real intention of getting off anytime soon lol#next stop?#Who knows!#I pulled up so many reference images for this only to use like three of them T-T#you bet i made a bunch of sketches of them to make up for it!#you can probably tell which two mangas I referenced for this this#also this style is so hard???#artists just draw like this all the time???#just drawing laney nearly drained away all my sanity#also yes they are aged up because there is no way that they could look this dramatic and angsty at their actual ages XD#have i mentioned how much i love tumblr#I get to rant as much as i want down here and no one cares lol#grojband#corey riffin#laney penn#kin kujira#kon kujira#anime and manga#artists on tumblr#digital art#fanart#grojband fanart#shoujo manga#artist on tumblr#my art
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i depend on you (based and very much inspired by @/sometimes317 's piece on twitter)
process pics in read more!!^^
you can tell the moment it struck me that i was practically drawing ship art www
#re:kinder#fanart#yuuichi mizuoka#shunsuke takano#my art#i was trying to play into the whole ending of the game part#how shun basically became a life crutch for yuu in the last moments and he chose to do it regardless of what was done to him#with it making shun the yellow with the light blue eyes character of the original#which in interpretations of the og artwork brought in the question if yellow truly depended on blue the same way blue did on em#for blue has the exact same yellow for its eyes while yellow has another hue that isnt the same color as blue#i wanted to play into that to portray the one sidedness of yuu and shun's relationship#I CAME INTO THIS WITH THOSE INTENTIONS BUT ITS SO FUNNY TO ME NOW#because halfway through this i realized what i was drawing was essentially ship art#i came into this with the intention of it being very deep to be then struck by the concept of draqing ship art its so funny to me#i felt a little embarassed somwthing about drawing ship art has always made me embarrassed for no reason#like. very cute but on another hand never expect art from me ever again /j /j#on the other side i was very amused about it as well#the way it hit me was voicing the “its been one of those weeks... pass the yaoi!!!” meme in my head#which was simultaneously embarassing and very amusing to me#to end these tags off id like to communicate to you that the project file corrupted inmediately the second i finished this#i . i have no idea how it did that when it eas still opened now i literally cannot open it and thus change it ever again#the only thing my computer is missing is having very loud fans the second it starts up#it already heats up like a bomb im surprised im not hearing its fans with all it does#college computer save me college computer i miss the college computer#if i could i would genuinely go to uni just to draw but im not allowed to set up a driver for my tablet so i cant#one of these days i should just do rekinder fanart as one of my projects to have an excuse
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I'm still not feeling great. now one side of my face also hurts lol, it's just one thing after another, this body sucks
#no idea what my face is complaining about but I'm sure it'll be fine in a couple of days#it's really annoying how used I am to 'things just randomly hurt a lot for no reason' lol#but anyway! I've finally made an appointment with a different ENT doctor. somehow I'm not okay with just being told my eardrum just doesn't#work (for no reason. at least none that I've been told) and that they won't do anything about it and I'm just gonna live with it#like if that's the best thing sure! then that's fine! but literally being told that I'm imagining everything is not enough :)#I don't care I just refuse to have this be the last thing I hear about this. that piece of shit doctor can go fuck himself and I hope he#gets hit by a bus (and then told that he's just imagining it)#plus. the tube thing they put in my ear did help at least a bit. but when I asked about that this jerk just said they won't do that over#and over 'for the next 90 years' and that I just have to live with it. my guy. I'm not planning on making it to 122?! and also I never#fucking asked for that? I just wanted to know if there's any OPTIONS. like doing that again. or anything else. and he just kept cutting me#off whenever I talked. ugh I fucking hate this guy.#anyway so I hope this lady will be better.#somehow I've had really bad luck with ENT doctors specifically?! I hope not all of them suck....#personal
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Honestly though I think it’s really a bad sign when I look at Shin Tsukimi and literally feel like he’s a self insert 😩
#the klock keeps ticking#yttd#i wanna replay yttd so bad but i also like Gotta play other stuff with the time i have akskks#but yeah the brainrot this specific character has given me idk if I ever really talked about it but it was BAD#i like obsessively played the game in like 3 days and it was not a good idea lol but just like shin#i had to take like a week to recover from this guy cuz i couldnt stop thinking about him and how hes just like me fr#first off just the very inconsistent personality hes got going on that is very me he has these different personalities he wears to cope with#all the traumatic shit happening hes both so helpless its comical and so manipulative its terrifying#and idk its really interesting how like good and bad he is at being manipulative like hes very smart and can analyze weaknesses and lie so#good not even he knows the truth but hes also grasping at straws he doesnt think things through at all#like the second main game he just didnt prepare at all hes fumbling his way through everything its going so bad#he just wants to go home he wants to outdo the game makers but hes being used by them so bad he wants it to STOP#and its just the way that like. it hits so hard cuz you know hes really not a bad person not at all he doesnt want any of this hes just#being horribly manipulated and doing whatever he can to survive but its also really scary how#well hes able to lie and manipulate and claw his way through but hes also weaker than a grade schooler#and you never forget that either and as much as he cheated his way through he still failed it was all just a cheap trick in the end#and all of this hits very hard like his personality is eerily similar to mine and just the way he thinks and acts#cuz im the same like im weak and a dweeb who likes funny cats but im also emotionally detached and observant and selfish#but where it hits the hardest is his relationship with midori like oooof that one was too real just like#the first person who was ever his friend was horribly abusive and treated him like a child and didnt respect any boundaries#and he just got sick pleasure out of seeing shin be upset and he was like. a groomer#and shin was fucking relieved when he died but also kept his scarf and adopted his personality to survive#and still goes by sou after ch2 and the scene that gets me the most is when shin ai is asked about his relationship with midori#and you can just SEE how horrified shin is because his deepest shame his abuse is being shared to everyone without his consent#and hes reliving it all in that moment and literally seeing who he used to be experiencing the abuse#he just curls into himself and like covers his ears and pulls his hair thats literally what i do AAAAAA#im just so grateful for the direction they took this character kokichi ouma wishes he was shin tsukimi so bad#and yeah just like damn. its scary how similar i am to shin like damn i really am going through it huh oof#I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I WILL DEFEND HIM WITH MY LIFE HE DID ALL OF THAT STUFF YOUR HONOR BUT LISTENNNN#have you considered that hes cute and smart and weird and maybe just needs friends who arent assholes
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Did sleeping help
No </3
#vent#tsk. isn’t it like. if you hate everything then eat#if you think everyone hates you then sleep#if you hate yourself take a shower?#sooooooooo. uhhhhhhh. didnt. work?#hng. artfight... I was so excited I have so many ideas#but it’s like. everything is triggering me or making me upset or freaked out or sick. idk what to do#I go ‘oh lemme see what my friends have done so far’ and then I see an oc from someone not my friend anymore and I’m like. ougghhh#I feel like such a baby for caring. stupid for being upset still. it’s like it only mattered to me and no one else had to deal with such#crippling anxiety and stress because of it#everyone is getting so much done so fast and I STILL can’t submit the second thing I did. I’m going to lose my head or cry or both or die or#SOMETHING uhhhhhhggggggg and it’s like all my anxieties are circling back around cus it was this time last year shit hit the fan#I have college!! I have no clue what my plans are!! all I’m good for is making fake people and drawing said people!!#I’m such a fucking. stupid.. I wasn’t even supposed to take this last semester off. we just didn’t know what other classes to take or what#to focus on... I’ve been literally free all day every day since December and it’s like I’m STILL not doing anything worthwhile#mmm I’m so alone in this I can’t DEAL well I guess I’ve been ‘dealing’ but I don’t believe thinking about bad situations literally every day#since they’ve happened can be considered as ‘dealing’ with it. I doubt anyone else is thinking about it that hard but I can’t help it#I can’t do a complete cut off from the internet. my only friends are here! what then? then I’m just. some sad sack who doesn’t talk to#anyone? mmm this isn’t a good way to start the day but I can’t NOT think. it’s all I do. my brain is one of the things that makes be I can’t#self labotomize myself into being a chiller person without killing everything that makes me with it#ugh. I’m going to be stuck in this headspace forever. even with apologies and make ups or agreements to stay apart#I’ll still be the one dealing with the negatives and fallout from shitty situations. funny seeing as I still don’t understand how things#even escalated so fast. but whatever. I’m the bad wolf forever. can’t change that
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The worst part is that when fat people talk about their struggles with fatphobia they're expected to ALWAYS have a disclaimer saying "Body shaming of all kinds is bad uwu even skinny shaming we're all victims of the same caliber of a body shaming society!" Lest they be seen as one of those Mean Fatties who hate skinny people and thus DESERVE to be systemically seen as unhealthy and lazy by society. I shouldn't have to reassure you that, yes, if someone tells you to eat a burger they're being an asshole. because I'm too busy being told I should kill myself for looking like a whale lol
#TW: weight discussion#TW: overweight discussion#TW: body issues#(I had to include the tags I saw bc they are so damn right.)#(ofc body shaming in all direction is the worst and i hate it with a burning passion)#(but this is just an ongoing thing for fat people.)#(you have no idea how many times doctors told me 'this is bc ur fat' before someone finally took tests)#(and then was like: oh well... its... not bc ur fat but bc you have this and that and whatever)#(and then these doctors are all sheepish abt it and NEED to add 'but anyway you STILL are fat and this causes all your other problems')#(sighs.)#(when I got a new doctor at some point by accident and they started to seriously look into whatever issues i had without questioning my wei#ght I literally almost started crying because I was so ready to be hit with the whole 'well you're fat what do you expect' thing)#(and she said to me:#well ofc i'm going to look into your issues! i wanna make sure everything else is ruled out befor I talk about your weight')#(this did things to me and I am still shaken abt it to this day)#(that is how fucking bad it has always been for me to see doctors. How much their words actually caused me mental struggle.)#(I want to add that many of us dont get any tests done or diagnosed ever because doctors refuse to see more than just the weight.)#(we DIE because of that. NOT because of our weight but bc of doctors not giving a shit about us.)
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Kicking winter break off by getting fucking COVID.
Super cool.
#im so upset rn#i had plans#also i feel like shit obviously#i had no idea i was getting sick it just hit me last night and then this morning i woke up with chills and tested#like wtf#completely asymptomatic to this point#and god only knows how many people i have accidentally given covid now#at work mainly#and i cant even Enjoy my days off rn because covid is stupid and horrible and i just feel exhausted and even if i sleep im just going to be#sore and miserable#and im ruining my partners moms birthday#i mean she wont see it that way but i was looking forward to going#and going to magic night with our friends which i cant do#damnit#im throwing a grown up tantrim ty#like i guess theres a bright side in that i at least dont have to worry about missing work and i caught it early but literally id way rather#be sick for a week or two of work and then be healthy on break#ass backwards
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ive already said this before about how ive felt so disconnected from art. its all just lines and poses and specific distances away from the camera, layers of color... something triggered a switch in my brain that is making things just not feel real anymore.
and its like. ok. whatever. its still fun to draw and i get very happy when i manage to draw something good. but i lack the motivation! so.. lemme think.. ah! my characters! perhaps i should try to actually flesh them out as real people, with a past and personalities and relationships..
and the more i read about it the more disconnected i feel. is that all life is about? traits and backstories and being bound to everything that happened to you.. the ways you think and act being somewhat easily traceable to your history..character arcs. stories just being a means to an end(?)
and i also want a world for my ocs to live in that is a bit believable and justifies them, but every bit of advice and apparently common worldbuilding things have all just been done before.
is there any chance of making something that matters when its all been done before or if everything else feels unreal and abstract. is there a point to anything
#the more i try to understand how things work the more things fall apart. and when it becomes unbearable all i can do is distract myself#is this what the dissociation all the cool kids(/s) keep talking about feels like..?#its like losing the ability to see a tower as a tower and just knowing its all just bricks and cement. you cant see meaning anymore#the worst part ive felt while coming up with ideas for my ocs is the conflicts and past part. their characterization#ill think like lol wouldnt it be funny if he kept being fucked over many times and over and over again. wouldnt that be fun to make and rea#and then it hits me. thats just my life. its all conflict after conflict and things going wrong exactly at the worst (but funniest!) time#its like everything is a joke really. or when its not you still dont know why some pieces of art are 'better' than others#i know deep down it doesnt matter if its been done before. i argue for that. the spin every individual puts on an idea is what makes it >#>worth it of course. but i feel like snapping my own neck when i see something that is similar or just like something i made or >#>was literally just thinking of doing it. i never do anything! and when i finally get to it someone already did it! fucking shoot me alread#or i will look at some drawing and be like ah yes. this is the distance between the eyes. the way they drew the muzzle is like a box. mhm#i can do that. i see how the artist constructed it. its doable! and then i go try and fail miserably despite seemingly knowing how its made#everything i ever think is wrong. ive never been right about anything. or if i have..someone already said it before anyways#genuinely hopeless. i wonder if being mentally ill is the cause of this or if i was ill enough it would all spiral back into making sense#i feel like a baby just coming to the realization that a stick figure isnt really a person but some lines and circles and dots#im deteriorating mentally so fast. i think one day ill just collapse on the floor and black rot is going to pour out of my scalp#long post#dextxt
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Writing tips for long fics that helped me that no one asked for.
1.) Don't actually delete content from your WIP unless it is minor editing - instead cut it and put it in a secondary document. If you're omitting paragraphs of content, dialog, a whole scene you might find a better place for it later and having it readily available can really save time. Sometimes your idea was fantastic, but it just wasn't in the right spot.
2.) Stuck with wording the action? Just write the dialog then revisit it later.
3.) Stuck on the whole scene? Skip it and write the next one.
4.) Write on literally any other color than a white background. It just works. (I use black)
5.) If you have a beta, while they are beta-ing have them read your fic out loud. Yes, I know a lot of betas/writers do not have the luxury of face-timing or have the opportunity to do this due to time constraints etc but reading your fic out loud can catch some very awkward phrasing that otherwise might be missed. If you don't have a beta, you read it out loud to yourself. Throw some passion into your dialog, you might find a better way to word it if it sounds stuffy or weird.
6.) The moment you have an idea, write it down. If you don't have paper or a pen, EMAIL it to yourself or put it in a draft etc etc. I have sent myself dozens of ideas while laying down before sleep that I 10/10 forgot the next morning but had emailed them to myself and got to implement them.
7.) Remember - hits/likes/kudos/comments are not reflective of the quality of your fic or your ability to write. Most people just don't comment - even if they say they do, they don't, even if they preach all day about commenting, they don't, even if they are a very popular blog that passionately reminds people to comment - they don't comment (I know this personally). Even if your fic brought tears to their eyes and it haunted them for weeks and they printed it out and sent it to their friends they just don't comment. You just have to accept it. That being said - comment on the fic you're reading now, just do it, if you're 'shy' and that's why you don't comment the more you comment the better you'll get at it. Just do it.
8.) Remove unrealistic daily word count goals from your routine. I've seen people stress 1500 - 2000 words a day and if they don't reach that they feel like a failure and they get discouraged. This is ridiculous. Write when you can, but remove absurd goals. My average is 500 words a day in combination with a 40 hour a week job and I have written over 200k words from 2022-2023.
9.) There are dozens of ways to do an outline from precise analytical deconstruction that goes scene by scene to the minimalist bullet point list - it doesn't matter which one you use just have some sort of direction. A partial outline is better than no outline.
10.) Write for yourself, not for others. Write the fic you know no one is going to read. Write the fic that sounds ridiculous. You will be so happy you put it out in the world and there will be people who will be glad it exists.
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#there's something really depressing of me thru the years#coming here to rant about stuff i can't find myself to talk about with ppl around me#and it just hits harder when i remember myself ranting about university and how i had hard time getting through it#just to pop here again after some years with a degree#but unemployed for almost 2 years now#idk i have no words#i feel like a complete failure watching everyone around me go on with their lives and doing stuff#while I'm 24/7 in my apartment living off my parents' money#at fucking 25 jesus christ#i really wanna blame the whole system#bc i felt the whole thing in my bones#doing interviews#sending my cv#but never getting answers#checking every day if there's a job related to my degree that I'm qualified for just to get disappointed when there's barely any#but idk#I just think there must've been something i could do to not be in this position rn#if i didn't have high standards when i first started searching for jobs#if i was confident enough in interviews#stuff like that#then there's my mother pressing the idea of me getting a different degree since 'this one won't get me far'#while there's literally nothing else i like doing or at least have skills for#different degree on what exactly#then again#i can't really go on like this and it's really frustrating#i don't wanna go back to my hometown and work at my parents restaurant again this summer#idk seeing the same ppl again and get asked if i found a job just to answer no#it's fucking humiliating#and i know I'm projecting when I think about what everyone will think of me but can you blame me#🍃
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"I know JK Rowing is a terrible person but her books are so good-"
You sure about that?
I mean, just for a start, have you taken a good look at her fantasy creatures lately? A whole bunch of them are straight-up based on malicious and dehumanizing stereotypes about actual people.
Remember the werewolves? And being a werewolf was made into a kind of metaphor for having AIDS?
And you know how AIDS was first associated with gay men? And how conservatives back in the day were claiming gay men were preying on children in order to convert them to gayness?
Remember how Fenrir Greyback preyed on children in particular? Yeah, she put that subtext in there. She was an adult in the 90's. She knew damn well what she was doing.
Remember the house elves? Remember how most of them loved to serve and needed to have a home and a master or else they just wouldn't know what to do with themselves?
Did you know that's literally what slavers in the American South said about the Black people they kept enslaved? Go look up the happy slave myth.
Do I even need to get into the goblins and the antisemitic tropes they're based on? No, folkloric goblins were not gold-hoarding bankers waiting for their chance to stab humanity in the back.
"But the characters are so good!"
Are you kidding me?
Most of her characters are pretty one-dimensional, including Harry. Her idea of making a morally complicated character is giving a tragic past to a bully. Numerous characters are little more than stereotypes. (Looking at Fleur right now.) Literally anybody, including you, can easily make dozens of characters just as good, if not better. (It doesn't exactly take a lot of character designing skill to go, "hey, actually, having a sad backstory doesn't make it okay to bully children" or "hey, maybe I should not base a character on the first stereotype that pops into my head.")
"But the rest of the worldbuilding!"
Sorry, but her worldbuilding is just as basic as her characters. Magical castles and secret passages are stock tropes. Magical people who keep their true nature secret from humanity is the premise of pretty much every White Wolf TTRPG. Most of her fantasy creatures are just common European fairy tale and folklore creatures with shitty stereotypes projected onto them.
I'm not saying "basic worldbuilding bad." I'm saying, you could do just as good, if not better, with minimal effort.
Also there's her magical bioessentialism, where only Harry's abusive blood relatives could provide him with supernatural protection from Voldemort. Rowling thus effectively declared that non-biological family isn't quite real family, and that abusive biofamily can give you some essential thing that a loving, supportive family that isn't related to you just can't.
The Hogwarts houses are one of the most insidious elements of her worldbuilding. The idea of being sorted gives you a little dopamine hit because wow now you have a li'l niche where you belong!
But the actual function of the houses and sorting system and the House Cup is teaching children to see each other as rivals, and ensure that the most toxic views of the upper class get passed on to every new batch of kids sorted into Slytherin.
Hogwarts effectively prepares children for a dystopia where magic serves to distract its citizens from how nightmarishly awful it is. Economic inequality is so bad that people like Arthur and Molly Weasley can barely afford to put their kids through school, casual sadism is just an accepted norm in everyday society, and non-humans are second class citizens. Rowling sorta acts like she thinks this is a bad thing with certain lines she gave to Dumbledore, but in the end, her special boy protagonist becomes an auror; IE, a defender of the status quo. So.
If you've never seen it, Lily Simpson's video goes into even more detail on how the worldbuilding of Harry Potter is actually incredibly fucked up, and how it betrays small-minded attitudes on Rowling's part. There's no separating the art from this artist, because Rowling's rotten values pour out of nearly every page.
youtube
Yes, there are many things in Harry Potter that evoke feelings and inspire people, but there's absolutely nothing in it that this series has a monopoly on. You can find those same experiences in much, much better media.
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Hm
#my posts#look yes i keep making at least one post like this a day and it will continue but its either letting it out or i have no idea#also in my defense y believe most of my mutuals arent up so it is peak time to post about feeling like shit#my plan isnt for someone to read these its for the bullshit to get out and try to not get to the point shit hits the fan#anyways man teen me would be so fucking disappointed by so many things the mere fact we are still alive would make them livid#and alive and living like this?#probably if they knew it was gonna be like this it would have happened lmao#they would just think we are a coward and a dumbass who can't do anything right tbh but they did know then too it's not knew#if it was new we wouldn't be here wouldn't we. why am i referring to is in plural it's just two dif timed mes#but yeah they are probably like 'hey of you are gonna keep living at least you could do it in a way no one regrets it' but alas we do#and we will keep regretting it bc our death won't be our choice. the deadline for it was extended until we were 20 and it's long closed#.... things are getting worse tho they put true but like. that isn't an option anymore lmao it sucks tbh#... i don't have anything else to say that isn't repeating it#i. do wish it was still an option idek why it isn't anymore it's some stupid arbitrary rule#i hate this. it's like. i really don't do a single thing that could make any version of me proud of myself#not teen me not child me not current me. none of us is okay with whatever the fuck i have going on and yet!#.man. I've spent all day tired and wanting to cry for nothing particular but also for literally everything so like#that would fix me. i don't know how to make it happen#... I'm gonna go to sleep#i need my phone to finish charging but that'll be over soon#so yeah I'll. go to sleep soon
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