#to be fair everything involving me didn’t have me aware that it was a thing

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

love how hua cheng is just like "I support xie lian rights and xie lian wrongs, except he can never do anything wrong ever even when he kills a bunch of people. Go off king" and Xie Lian is like “This is my beautiful husband, he has committed war crimes, but haven’t we all?”

And their relationship is somehow healthier than anything I've ever been in.

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Four: Until I had met you there was no sun in my sky

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling and pining for each other, but there's a little bit of progress. Tommy is the hero in this chapter. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad. Emily is modeled after my sister and JB is based on my dad, who used to try setting me up with his younger work buddies when I was in my 20s :)

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!

Chapter Three | Main Masterlist

Sleep evaded Joel Saturday night, his mind unable to shut down and rest. He spent half the night searching for words to fit what he was experiencing. The right one didn’t occur to him until nearly five o’clock in the morning.

Turmoil.

That was the perfect word to describe the utter confusion and uncertainty boiling inside him.

His date went about as well as could be expected when one wasn’t particularly interested in the other person. There was conversation, but it mostly revolved around Annica and her interests. She asked a few polite questions about Joel but didn’t seem too interested in his responses. To be fair, they were short and rather ineloquent, but he barely had the chance to talk about Sarah before the woman changed the subject. She was also very much not his type.

She wasn’t you.

That’s the part which caused the most turmoil.

Joel didn’t realize how quickly he was falling for you until he was on a date with someone else. It somehow felt like a betrayal toward you, even though you and Joel weren’t together. Even though you didn’t even know that he liked you, more than liked you.

This entire thing was eating him up inside, all your interactions since Friday, but especially the way you bolted from him last night. He didn’t understand what happened until he checked out his face in the mirror, your parting comment finally making sense.

Annica had kissed him goodnight when he dropped her off. He knew she wanted more, at least a real kiss, but he offered nothing other than a loose hug and brief thanks for joining him. So, she pressed her painted lips to his cheek for several moments too long, subtly trying to turn his face toward hers, before he finally stepped back and walked away. He didn’t even wait for her to get into her house safely.

To his dismay, she left a clear and distinct reminder of her on his cheek that he was not aware of until you mentioned it. His face burned with the feeling of being marked like territory, and the worst part was you saw it. Who the fuck knew what you thought of him now.

Joel needed advice, someone to talk this all through with. If the situation didn’t involve you, he would have gone to you for advice. You were so easy to talk to and he opened up more easily with you than he had with anyone else in his entire life. But that was out of the question for… obvious reasons.

Your dad was equally as easy to talk to, a quality you must have inherited from him. But he couldn’t turn to JB about this for the same obvious reasons.

That left his brother. Tommy would give Joel a good ribbing about all this. Joel wasn’t ashamed to admit that his brother had more practical experience with dating and complicated relationships, especially recently, than he did. It was time to capitalize on all of Tommy’s shenanigans.

Dangerously under-caffeinated and bleary-eyed, Joel made bacon, eggs, and pancakes for the usual Sunday morning family breakfast. Tommy joined them a little after nine o’clock and helped himself to the spread. He knew better than to ask Joel about his date in front of Sarah, so the younger brother made quiet conversation with Sarah as Joel sipped at his coffee. She told him all about her adventure to the movies with you and how much she loved hanging out with you, how smart you were, and how pretty.

A stupid grin spread over Joel’s face as his daughter spoke about you. He could feel Tommy’s narrowed gaze burning into the side of his head, which he ignored until Sarah finished her food and ran off to play a video game in the living room.

“You gonna make me ask?” Tommy grinned at Joel as he cleared the table. Joel merely quirked a brow and focused on washing the dishes. “Fine, ya ol’ grumpy ass. How was the date?”

“Was alright. She talked, a lot,” Joel emphasized, “and mostly about herself. We don’t have much in common other than we like to eat. The movie she picked to see was God awful. I’d rather have seen the other movie with Sarah.”

“Really?” Tommy placed the last of the dirty flatware next to the sink, watching as Joel scrubbed each item before rinsing it off. “Annica texted me that she had a wonderful time and hoped there’d be a second date. Asked if I could put in a good word for her. Guess that’s not happenin’.”

“There’d be no point. She’s not who I’m interested in.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying, and he cringed when Tommy latched right on them.

“Ohhhh, and who might you be interested in, dear brother?” The shit-eating grin on the younger brother’s face let Joel know that Tommy already had an idea on who piqued his interest. “Couldn’t be JB’s hot little daughter, could it? You going cradle robbin’ now?”

Punching his brother in the arm, hard, Joel growled. “I ain’t robbin’ any cradles, asshole. She’s only about nine years younger than me.”

“Oh, is that all?” Tommy teased, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting.

“Don’t get me started on how you almost got busted for statutory rape last year, dickhead.”

“Hey now, I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panties all in a bunch.” Tommy surrendered, adding a grumbled, “And you know damn well that wasn’t on purpose. That girl looked 25! She sure had me fooled.”

Joel nodded, heading out to the back patio with another cup of coffee. Tommy followed, stopping briefly to grab a can of soda from the fridge. The pair sat quietly listening to the sound of songbirds singing the songs of their people before Joel finally spoke.

“I feel like an idiot asking this, but how do you tell if a woman is into you?”

Tommy nearly spilled soda all down the front of himself, the question caught him so off-guard. “Whadda ya mean?” he spluttered, trying not to choke on the carbonated liquid.

Rolling his big brown eyes with a huff, Joel glared at his brother. “I mean just what I said. I’m so outta practice with this. I keep second guessin’ everything. I just don’t know…”

Taking pity on his older brother, Tommy refrained from razzing him further. He was intrigued by this version of his brother who lacked self-confidence, so different from the over-confident man Joel used to be, at least when it came to women.

“Just so I understand, do you want to know how to tell if any woman is into you or a specific woman?”

Brows pulling together, Joel stared at Tommy blankly for a moment. “Does it make a difference?”

Tommy’s lips spread into a wide grin, deep brown eyes sparkling mischievously. “It sure as hell does, brother. There are few key ways to tell with most women, but if it’s a specific woman you’re curious about, I may have some intel.”

The struggle to hide his overwhelming curiosity on the ‘intel’ his brother had was a losing game, and Joel relented, his cheeks growing hot as he uttered the words. “Fine. It’s JB’s daughter.”

The room stilled as the brothers stared at each other, the grin on Tommy’s face growing impossibly wider until nearly all his pearly whites were on display. “I knew it! You dirty dog.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled, drawing out the two syllables until his brother sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Fine, no razzin’.” Tommy grumbled. He waited a few beats until Joel grew even more uncomfortable. “She’s into you, too.”

Joel perked up at that. “That’s your intel? How do you know?”

Looking around the backyard, Tommy thought of all the times he’d been around and caught you ogling his brother when you thought no one was watching, but none rivaled that time in the kitchen when you stared as Joel pulled his tee shirt off to put in on right side out. Tallying it all up in his mind, Tommy was certain that you had a thing for his brother. And now, it seemed he had a thing for you, too.

The question Tommy had now was, would either of you do anything about it?

With recent history as proof, he had his doubts.

Perhaps it was time to give you each a little nudge.

“It’s in the way she looks at you, all wide-eyed with wonder, like she’s imagining what it’d be like to be with you. I flirted with her for nearly an hour one day and she never looked at me like that once.” Tommy smirked at the glassy look that overcame his brother’s eyes. “Well, that and the drool dripping down her chin every time she sees you.”

“Yeah… wait, what?” It took a moment for Joel to catch on. “Fuckin’ asshole, I swear. She doesn’t drool when she looks at me.”

Laughter rumbled from deep within Tommy’s chest. “She might as well do with as into you as she is. I’m telling you, pay attention to how she is around you and you’ll see.”

The brothers fell silent again with Joel’s thoughts drowning in you. If what Tommy said was true, then you must be hurting over the fact that he went on a date with someone else, more so since you also saw him on that date. Already feeling like such a dick, worry over you weighed more heavily on him this morning. He had to fix this, but how?

Part of Joel wanted to rush over to JB’s and check on you, but the other part was terrified of how that would work out, especially if your dad was home and wanted to know why his best friend was frantic to see his daughter.

Shit. JB. Joel still needed to figure out how to navigate that part of this entire situation. The two of you could like each other all day long, but how would JB react?

Joel envisioned several scenarios that ended with him getting his nose bashed in by your old man. He wasn’t looking forward to that.

“What about JB?” Joel finally broke the silence, looking once again to his younger brother for guidance. “If I’m gonna do this, I want to do it right.”

Placing his empty bottle on the patio table between them, Tommy nodded. “Ok. Let’s think about this. Do you always check with a chick’s dad before askin’ her out?”

“’Course not, but this is different.”

“I get that but hear me out. What if you try before you buy?” Tommy asked.

Joel immediately stiffened. “I’m not gonna just fuck her before asking her on a date. Jesus, Tommy.” Not that he didn’t want to fuck you… he most certainly did, but Joel wanted to do this right. He wanted more than just sex. He wanted something meaningful, and he suspected you would as well.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole. Ya can quit clutchin’ your pearls like you ain’t banged a chick before the first date before.”

“Tommy,” Joel growled again. Little brothers were the worst no matter what age they were.

“Jeez, alright, fine. You’re really into her, I get it. I’m not sayin’ sleep with her first. I’m suggestin’ you ask her out and see where this is goin’ before you go to JB with your tail between your legs, is all.” Tommy explained, already getting fed up with how easily Joel got his feathers ruffled.

Considering the advice, and ignoring his brother’s snippy tone, Joel bobbed his head in a nod. “That’s not a bad idea, actually.”

“I’m full of good ideas, sometimes. I got another one, actually. Get your grumpy ass to the store and buy some new shirts. Everything you own is at least ten years old and worn down. You need to dress better if you’re gonna date a younger woman.”

Another point to Tommy. He sure was racking them up.

“Fine. I fuckin’ hate to admit it, but you’re right,” Joel grumbled, looking down at the tee shirt he was wearing. It used to be black and faded to a cloudy gray from years of wearing and washing. “You mind watchin’ Sarah for a while so I can run to the mall?”

“Not at all, brother. I was hoping to watch the game on your flat screen anyway.” Tommy led the way back inside the house.

Emily: Sounds like you need some retail therapy, asap.

The pair of you spent the past hour texting about Joel’s date the night before. Emily’s emoji reactions were priceless as you recounted seeing them together at the movie theater and she was pissed on your behalf when you told her about the lipstick mark on his cheek. The conversation came full circle before Emily suggested the retail therapy.

You: Omg do I ever. Mall?

Emily: I can’t ☹ Ed wants my help with the garden. Again. I swear, I hate this fucking garden.

You: Booo. How dare you pick your husband over me

Emily: I gotta go with the one who has the bigger dick. Ur girl has needs u know that 😉

You: Yeah yeah. Chat later?

Emily: You bet. Have fun. Buy lots!

An hour later, you walked through Barton Creek Square, window shopping with a chocolate smoothie clutched in your hand. Not sure exactly what you were in the mood for, you started with clothing. This mall was a bit upscale for your budget, but you always enjoyed perusing the department store discount racks. Tossing your empty cup into the garbage can, you entered the large store.

Somehow, you found yourself searching through flannel shirts in the men’s department. Stopping for a moment once you realized what you were doing, you sighed. There was no escaping thoughts of Joel Miller, even subconsciously, it seemed. Huffing in frustration, you turned to walk back to the women’s section where you’d find things you actually needed when you heard your name.

Joel stood on the other side of the rack, eyes wide with surprise at the sight of you. His cheek was clean, no lipstick mark in sight, you noted. Just the normal, totally endearing patchy scruff. “Hey darlin’, what are you doing here?”

“Shopping,” you stated the obvious with a shrug, delighted at the pink tinge creeping up his cheeks.

“Me, too. Obviously.” Joel nodded, rolling his eyes – at you or himself, you weren’t sure. “I could use your help, actually.”

You weren’t expecting that. He looked at you with such open hope in his eyes, you couldn’t deny him. “Ok, shoot.” Your heart nearly exploded at the smile that spread across his face, putting his dimple on full display.

“I can’t decide which of these to go with,” Joel replied, holding up several flannels. After a moment, he put those across the top of the discount rack and held up a pile of tee shirts. “Or these.”

Eyes taking in the details of each selection – he had good taste; you could picture each option on him – you hummed. “Have you tried any of them on?” Joel shook his head, the mop of curls swaying deliciously with the movement. “Ok. Go try them on. That’s usually how I decide.”

Turning toward the fitting room with a nod, Joel paused and turned back around. “Come with me? I need your honest opinion on each one.”

Brow furrowed, you followed behind him wordlessly, eyes straying to his backside of their own accord. He wore the same dark, fitted jeans as last night and you swore beneath your breath at yet another reminder of his date. No amount of staring at his nice ass could pull that jealous feeling from your gut. He went on a date with someone and for all you knew, it could have been the best damn date of his entire damn life.

Leaning back against the wall opposite the fitting room Joel chose, you crossed your arms in front of your chest and wondered what the hell you were doing. You came to the mall for a distraction, to treat yourself and get your mind off the man on the other side of the fitting room door. Now you were… what? His wardrobe consultant?

Helping Joel pick out new clothes seemed like the job of a girlfriend, not his daughter’s babysitter. Let’s face it, you thought, that’s all you were to him. Mood growing sourer by the second, you startled as the door ripped open in front of you.

“What do you think?”

The universe was a fickle bitch. It wasn’t fair that Joel stood there looking like the man of your dreams and you didn’t get to call him yours.

The first shirt Joel tried on fit like a glove, like the factory made it with his frame as the model in mind. The material had just the right amount of stretch across the breadth of his chest and shoulders, while hanging on for dear life around his biceps.

After ogling him for far too long, your eyes finally met Joel’s. “Looks good,” you said, the cadence of your voice not giving away the riotous flutter of desire flaring to life deep in your lower belly. “Let’s see the next one.”

Chocolate eyes sparkled with delight at your response as Joel slipped back into the fitting room. What you wouldn’t give to follow him in there. Already picturing it in your mind, you would slip to your knees in front of him, fingers undoing his belt and the button of his jeans before slowly sliding the zipper down. You’d wind one hand inside his pants to trace the curve of his cock through his boxer briefs before slipping the length of him out of the little secret pocket. Joel would be trying on his shirts as your lips—

“How about this one?”

“Jesus fucking nutcracker!” you exclaimed, Joel’s voice jolting you right out of that wonderful little daydream. So deep into the fantasy, you hadn’t heard the fitting room door open.

Concerned, Joel reached out a hand, his calloused fingertips and palm running over the bare skin of your forearm as you steadied yourself. “Do, uh… do you have Tourette’s or something?”

Bemused, you blinked up at him, head thumping back against the wall. “What? No, no. I was just lost in thought, and you startled me.”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with having Tourette’s, you know.” Joel tripped over himself to make sure you didn’t think he was making fun of the disorder.

You waved him off. “Of course not.” Clearing your throat, eyes closing to recenter yourself, you counted to ten. The heat of Joel’s gaze like a burn on your skin, you opened your eyes and assessed his shirt. It was nice, a deep burgundy color, but the fit differed from the last one. You hated it. “I like the way the other one fit you better.”

The pattern continued until Joel tried on every shirt in his pile. You managed to keep your mind from straying again by making conversation.

“How did your date go last night?” You dreaded the answer but needed to know.

“It was… I’ve had better dates. She talked a lot,” he said through the fitting room door. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over, honestly. I just wanted to be home.”

“So, no second date then?” you confirmed, butterflies beginning to take flight in your belly.

“Hell no.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the conviction in Joel’s voice, but you tried not to let it show on your face or in your voice as he stepped through the door. “That’s too bad. You deserve to find someone great, Joel.”

He looked at you for a long time, his eyes penetrating like he was trying to tell you something without using words. You just had no idea what. You were about to bid him farewell as he paid for the shirts you chose – the bluish gray tee shirt that fit him so well and a flannel with similar hues, and two more just like them – when he stopped you.

“Uh, would you have lunch with me?” he asked shyly, eyes brimming with such eager hopefulness you nearly melted.

Part of you wanted to turn him down over hurt feelings he wasn’t even aware of, but you couldn’t. Not after what he just told you about his date. The other part of you screamed not to read too much into it, that he wasn’t asking you on a date. It would just be lunch with your boss. But the final part of you, the hopeless romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve and just helped the man pick out clothes like a girlfriend would, screamed that this could be your chance to get closer, that it could be a date if you made it one.

Fearing you stayed silent too long arguing with yourself, you rushed out a quick, “Sure.” Joel’s face lit up like you’d never seen before. He didn’t look anywhere near this happy when he left for his dinner date the night before.

tbc

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[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 16

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Warning: Brief mention of S.A.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

Five-thirty in the morning. Monday. It had been the day I had been dreading since I’d been whisked away to Dr. Miller’s castle of mystery on Thursday evening. The crushing weight of my feelings overpowered the unanswered questions and the part I tried to ignore - the red flags. I was completely seduced by everything my professor had to offer, from his body to his perplexing home, to the way he looked at me and all of the secrecy involved. Magnetic was the only adjective I had in my mind that could accurately describe how things felt.

When my alarm sounded off, waking both of us, Dr. Miller turned it off and cuddled me close for another extra second or two, holding me from behind.

“I’m going to make you breakfast,” he explained, kissing the top of my shoulder. “Go take a shower.”

I turned to face him and our noses touched as I spoke. “Okay.”

Dr. Miller kissed me and my hand naturally moved to his face. Why did this day have to come? Would I ever get the chance to come back here? Were his words in the heat of our passionate weekend truthful, or just said in the moment?

“I’ll drop you off at work.”

It suddenly dawned on me that I had left my car on campus all weekend. Before I could say anything about it, Dr. Miller spoke, again, like he could read my thoughts.

“I had your car towed to your house,” he informed me. “It’s paid for. I just didn’t want anything to happen to it all weekend unattended.”

I opened my mouth to speak but then stopped.

“I hope that’s okay,” he added. “If there’s anything wrong with your car I’ll personally-”

“No,” I shook my head to let him know I wasn’t displeased. “Thank you.” I couldn't believe I hadn't even given a single thought to my car. And I couldn't even wrap my head around Dr. Miller having it towed to my house.

“I’ll pick you up from work, too,” Dr. Miller offered, and then added, “If you’d like.”

I smiled at him now, beginning to truly feel that the obsessive, little thoughts that had creeped into my brain were mutual. Dr. Miller wanted to be around me as much as I wanted to be around him. He was doting on me and making sure I was happy and content. I loved how he took care of my every need.

He pecked my lips and I took his face in both hands now and kissed him hard. Dr. Miller reciprocated, kissing me back with just as much intensity as he moved partially on top of me. After a whirlwind romance from Thursday night through Saturday, Sunday had been far more low key after the odd all-nighter that still left me uneasy during any downtime where I had too much time to think. I was ready to get back to the whirlwind.

Dr. Miller parted his lips from mine with a deep breath. “Save it for later.” He dove back in for another kiss, “You’ll be late for work.”

“So what.” I giggled and he kissed me hard again. “We have ten minutes to spare.”

“Mmm..” he grunted the word and I could tell there was a hint of playful frustration that lingered in his response. Dr. Miller’s hands locked mine down onto the bed and he moved fully on top of me. “You don't play fair.”

“Neither do you.”

I made it to work on time that morning - barely. When he dropped me off near the main entrance of the building I was thankful no one I was close with was around to ask questions.

Dr. Miller left me with a steamy kiss behind the tinted windows of his Mercedes and tapped beneath my chin with his first two fingers.

“I'll be back at three-thirty,” he assured me.

“Okay.” Our lips touched again and he waited until I was inside before driving off.

Things almost felt foreign when I walked in through the doors of the building I had been working in for so long. It wasn't the surroundings. I felt different.

“Feeling better?” One of my coworkers greeted me with a smile as I entered the office.

“A lot better.” I smiled back., “Thanks.”

All day behind my desk I went through the motions, but my mind was elsewhere. Thankfully everything on my plate that day was routine and I didn't have to think too hard about what I was doing.

My mind flashed back to all the highlights of the weekend. If I was being completely honest with myself, it was the best weekend of my life.

But where did he go Saturday night?

I knew, in time, I had to ask. I had to know.

The hours ticked by like molasses in winter. Each time I paid attention to the clock it had only ticked by in small increments.

Am I being toxic? I wondered. Is my current obsession truly unhealthy, or is it normal to feel this way about someone early in the relationship? Am I Dr. Miller’s girlfriend? Am I just some random girl to him? I didn't think the last one was true. I wasn't the most intuitive person out there, but I knew I couldn't be reading this wrong. The man dropped me off at work and offered to pick me up. He could've politely suggested I go home at any point in our long weekend together but he didn't.

I breathed and looked at the clock again, suddenly wondering where I would be sleeping that night. Another wave of excitement and anxiety washed over me at the thought. I truly felt like my brain chemistry was being altered from all the dopamine releases as of late. I wasn't complaining, but I hadn't exactly relaxed or turned my brain off for an extended period of time for well over a week - possibly a little longer.

“Hey (Y/N).” My coworker, Olivia, wheeled her chair across the low, blue carpet.

“Hey.” I smiled. “What's up?”

“You're taking classes down at Woodbridge, right?”

There was the adrenaline shot again. Anything that had to do with Woodbridge or Dr. Miller instantly put me into that hyper alert mode.

“Yeah.” I nodded nonchalantly, masking it all rather easily.

“How crazy is it about those girls who were killed?”

“I know.” I shook my head. “I was in class nearby when they found the first body. There was a whole crowd gathered around and reporters and stuff.”

“Wild.”

“I know.”

“At least they have a suspect in mind.”

“What? They do.” Olivia had my attention now.

“Yeah, it was on the news this morning. The police even raided his house this morning but he wasn't there.”

“Who is he?”

“Some guy named Alec Pryor. Registered sex offender, confessed to some seriously messed up shit in the past.”

I shuddered. “That's so scary.” I cringed. “And he was just lurking on campus.. waiting.. ugh.”

“Yeah apparently he got released back in, like, April.”

“They should never let those guys out.”

“Right!” Olivia nodded. “Sexual assault is the lowest kind of crime you can commit. The absolute worst. They should just kill those guys. Get rid of ‘em.”

“I know.” I scrunched my nose and shook my head. “So, where is he then? Did they pick him up somewhere else?”

My work friend whipped out her cell phone and began typing furiously with her thumbs before staring at the screen. She scrolled for a moment and adjusted her circular glasses before pausing as she read up on something.

“This article says..” Olivia angled her body toward mine. “They have yet to find him.” She made a face that broke the tension and made me crack a faint smile. “But they're on the hunt for him, currently.”

“Yikes.”

“Don't go anywhere alone when you're near that campus,” she advised.

“They'll catch him,” I said, only slightly confident that that was true.

“I hope so.”

“So crazy.” I repeated the name to myself. “Alec Pryor.”

“Looks like a creep.” Olivia turned her phone around and showed me a picture of the scowling, middle-aged man in a former mug shot.

“They should post his face all over the place so people are aware,” I said.

“I think they are.” She scrolled some more, “Oo, this one is calling it a ‘manhunt’.”

“That means he's on the run,” I said and added, mostly to make myself feel more secure. “He's probably hours away by now.”

Olivia shuddered and rolled back to her desk. “Be careful. That's all I'm sayin’. This is exactly why I have two German Shepherds.”

“I don't blame you.” I sighed, welcoming the interaction. It was a perfect distraction. I needed it to get my overdriven hormones somewhat back to neutral.

A little female bonding did just that, helping the work day move along a little faster.

When the day finally neared its end, I caught a glance of the Mercedes out one of the many windows in the office. I smiled to myself and hurried to finish up the last of my work and respond to the last few emails.

The time between three-fifteen and three-thirty felt like hours. As soon as the minute hand aligned vertically with the number six, I grabbed my coat and headed out the doors with a quick farewell to everybody.

I didn’t know if anyone was looking when I hopped into the passenger side of Dr. Miller’s car. I didn’t care. All I cared about was the man sitting behind the wheel.

“Hey, baby.” He flashed a cool smile in my direction as I climbed in and I slammed the door behind me.

“I love it when you call me that.” I leaned over and we shared a smoldering kiss. Again, I was thankful for the tints. I was breathless when our lips parted and settled beside him in the vehicle. Dr. Miller rested a hand on my knee as he put the car in drive and cruised out of the parking lot.

“Why don’t you let me drive you home,” he said.

I swallowed hard when he didn’t say anything more. Home? I had to go home and sit there and think of him and what he might be doing? I had to sleep without him? I had to-

“I’ll help you pack some things and then you can..” Dr. Miller shrugged, “Decide how long you want to stay at my place.”

Fuck. I calmed down immediately from the insanely frantic thoughts he caused by the dramatic pause. There was the push and pull of emotions again.

“How long am I welcome for?”

“For as long as you decide.” Dr. Miller glanced over at me as we drove and we both smirked.

“Well, then I better pack heavy.”

Dr. Miller’s grin widened as he stared out at the road. “Suit yourself.’

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

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[wordstome]

Thanks for everything, but it’s time to close up shop.

Hello, everybody. Sorry for this post being a portent of doom, but I feel like you all deserve better than radio silence. Originally, I went on hiatus because I got busy with school and work. This is still true—real life is getting in the way of me being able to write creatively, which I haven’t done in a while.

However, I think it would only be fair for me to admit that I’m just not as into COD anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been into the games and always have been a fan of the little fandom of writers here, but I have to admit that part of my difficulty writing is just not being as into the content anymore. Most of it is just naturally moving on from something you used to like, but I also feel uninspired and weird about the idea of writing fanfiction about the military nowadays.

TO BE CLEAR: I don’t suddenly think that all my fellow writers are doing something problematic and amoral, and I vehemently do not want my departure from creating fan works to be used as some sort of gotcha to attack other writers. I don’t think any of us respect the military or US imperialism (I hope not) and I think the tumblr subsection of fandom is especially aware that COD is military propaganda. What we do here is writing about characters, not the institution they operate in. A lot of cod fanfiction doesn’t even take place in the military. I also haven’t drifted away because some writers make heavier/darker content, so I’m squashing that discourse before it has a chance to start.

It would also be disingenuous to say that I drifted away solely because of fandom discourse, but it certainly didn’t help. Thankfully, I only caught the tail end of a recent…controversy? Discourse? Involving other creators. It’s exhausting and disheartening to see this sort of thing happen, but I also realize it’s kind of inevitable that feathers will be ruffled when subjects like racism against Gaz are addressed, and that doesn’t mean we should just stop talking about those subjects. I don’t have a good solution to this and I don’t mean to complain about something that’s just a part of human nature. I just can’t pretend that it isn’t really demoralizing to see people acting poorly and the internet slapfights that result from it. I hope those involved in the recent incident are taking care of themselves. ❤️

Anyway, if you’ve gotten this far, thanks for reading. I have a lot of love left for this fandom, and especially my fellow creators who I have come to consider genuine friends. I feel a deep obligation to everyone who reads and interacts with my work, and I can’t continue to leave people waiting when I know it is, most likely, over. So, to be clear: this is the end of my COD writing journey. I won’t be writing any more or continuing any of my fics.

All of my works, both here and on AO3, will remain up, so you don’t have to worry about anything being deleted. I’m still grateful to cod for bringing my zest for writing back, even if it was only for a handful of months. And if you guys want to see unpublished drafts (like for kingdom come), have questions, or simply want to know my plans for fics that won’t be finished/want to know how they end, please send me asks or reach out! I would love to talk about it. Mutuals are, as always, extremely welcome in my DMs, and it means the world to me that people have been checking in on me during my hiatus.

TLDR:

I’m leaving for good. None of my fics will be deleted, but they won’t be updated anymore. I won’t be active on this blog, but I’ll still check in once in a while to answer any asks or questions about my fics.

I don’t think this will happen, but it’s worth saying: please don’t use my departure to make sweeping generalizations about the fandom or start more discourse. I just drifted away and lost interest. Take care of yourselves.

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

[somenerdfromwhatever]

I haven’t seen The Owl House but can we just talk about how Disney did this show dirty?

Let me preface this by saying that, as of the time of me writing this, I have NOT seen The Owl House in its entirety l yet. I could be in the progress of it after posting, but honestly as an outsider looking in given the entire Season 3 fiasco, Disney did this show dirty.

Like three specials only? Nothing more nothing less? With that happening due to outcry because originally it was going to get canned after the release of Season 2?

I don’t think it was a fair deal to end with three specials. Season 3 should’ve gotten the fanfare it deserved even with the outcry. Like, it is the weakest compromise possible even with mass support.

I’m going to paraphrase some bits of what I addressed to people on discord and additional information I learnt.

I’m surprised there wasn’t more of an active effort to fight back against the cancellation since it first blew up upon announcement. Like “doesn’t fit the branding?” Didn’t Gravity Falls face something similar? By that logic, this doesn’t make sense at all. I feel like Disney’s “brand theming” excuse is really dodgy, and it seems like there was some foul play involved. But I didn’t see the fandom actively pushing back, even the creator, who did speak out about it. (Note: I haven’t been on Twitter for over a year and a half, so I might not be fully aware of everything.) If I watch it and it’s as amazing as people say… given how I am passionate about things in this world, I won’t let Disney live this down. It’s like treating art as a joke just to fill their pockets and the corruption the industry has over artists. We saw this last year with the strikes and given the current state with the companies running the industry nowadays (the streaming bubble, and that the whole cartoon mass purge thanks to Max)... artists are now having their creativity die out because of industry folk like Disney.

If there was pushback, I’m glad there was at least some effort to score these three specials. But if this is how far it went, it feels like an unfair compromise. Three specials aren’t enough, honestly. Even if they’re good, it doesn’t negotiate anything at all as it still feels like Disney did this show dirty. Let me be clear here as well: I am NOT beating down anyone who has taken the effort to get this. Why the hell would I do that? I'm happy you guys managed to get your voice out there and left and impact. Those three specials were hard fought, I just wish there was more because honestly, it isn't enough. And if the resentment I'm seeing is anything to go by a year later, I say keep fighting. I am also not beating down Dana, the showrunner. Dana is an amazing creator, and the fact that she stood her ground at all with her cast and crew is incredible. My problem is with the corporation, with Disney, and how they put her in a position where that fight couldn’t be won in the way it should have been. I understand the fight it takes to get your foot in the door of the industry. If I were to turn around and beat down someone like Dana, who fought for her vision just like I’m fighting for mine? I would never live that down. It would stain me for life. Considering the industry itself is small and how I am going into it in post-production, sometime down the line, I will be faced with working with her. The last thing I want is burning a bridge inadvertently. I can understand why she acted the way that she did with her crew, it's just with a lot more vocality and support, things might've been different.

Like I don’t get Disney’s thought process here. You have a big, popular show, and then you “old yeller” it, giving it this slow death and then dragging it out with this… in my honest opinion; weak compromise. That is scummy and why us artists and creatives need a reform to the entertainment industry where we drive the vision and what Disney and others do come second.

At best, it did what it was supposed to do. At worst… it’s not enough.

With everything that the fanbase done including the cast, crew, and even Dana, while I'm happy they managed to end it, I feel like there should have been more active effort. I do notice there is still a lot of resentment and I mean A LOT OF RESENTMENT. I noticed a lot of the fandom got a hashtag trending, some fanart mailed into Disney itself, but I'm surprised there isn't like a full on physical protest. Online can only do so much. Like imagine a D23 but everyone is in their cosplay of the show with signs having references to whatever the show has going on. I mean, sure, it is unheard of, but consider the compromise, how it was censored in other countries, maybe even how mistreated it got during the making of Season 3. Go to the heart of where decisions are made. If you feel strongly about the compromise, take that energy and turn it into real action. As an outsider who is about to come on, I feel you so much. I hope the show is really good when I watch it, but in case if I don't, you guys really deserve better. Honest. I could be wrong in all this there's more to the story then I realize, so please go easy with this. Thank you.

[the-expired-tofu]

The Devil's Trumpets | Pt. 5

|| A 'The Glory' fanfic || MINORS DNI [18+]

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a/n: Hey there, this is my first time writing a fan fiction. I might change a few things in my fictions later on. Also, my English isn't my first language so my writing might lack some fluency. Hope you enjoy :)

trigger warnings: lots of swearing, bullying, murder, gore, depression, abuse, mature content, violence, sexual themes.

pairing: reader x multi

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Moon Dong-Eun

I’ve been a great help to Y/N for quite many days. I finished tutoring Min-hee and helped her get into the Semyeong Elementary School. On the other hand, I helped Y/N move into her new apartment. After finishing helping her settle, I got her the job at the convenience store. The old lady was really nice and that she told us that she was in need of another helper since she couldn’t handle everything all alone. All the supplies for the school and the transportation services were done by me.

After everything was done, I brought Y/N to my apartment. She was caught off-guard due to all the pictures of them attached to the walls in front of her.

“You did quite the research, didn’t you? You weren’t kidding back then when you told me you tracked each and every step they took,” she said as she slowly approached a picture of the group together in their teens. She was reading the sticky notes that I attached on some of the pictures when she saw a polaroid of her when she was young, followed by few other pictures of her from the current time, along with her niece. She also saw a few photos of her families before and after they separated. She stood in front of those and rubbed her finger gently on an image of a girl I believe was her sister.

“You didn’t leave me out as well,” she said as she turned around to meet my eyes. “I have every reason to be mad at you, Dong-eun, but at the same time, I don’t. I can simply report you to the police for stalking me and immediately put an end to your years’ effort, but at the same time, I can’t. I can easily walk out of this place and quit participating in your plan, but I don’t wish to. Because I trust you, Moon Dong-Eun. Not only am I risking my own life, but also Min-hee’s life. Once they find out about her, they will use her against me as my weakness. So make sure you prove me wrong and help us not get caught.”

After hearing those words from her, that’s when I knew I did the right thing involving her in this. She’s aware of the environment she’s getting herself into and knows how to take the necessary precautions, and not just an airhead with the lust for revenge.

“I knew you would feel this way once you notice those pictures. But I couldn’t help it either. When we were in school, you never bought a cell-phone for yourself. So it was quite difficult to track you down.”

“I would rather call it stalking than tracking down, Dong-eun,” she said as she turned away from me to look back at those images. I couldn’t say anything since she made a fair point. But I didn’t have any other choice either.

“I don’t recognize her. Who’s she?” She points out to a picture of Hyeon-nam.

“That’s Kang Hyeon-nam. She works for me as my assistant. She’s the one who helped me land the job as a homeroom teacher. She’s also the one who ‘stalked’ you.”

“Huh, interesting,” she said as she removed her finger from the picture and placed her hands inside her pockets. “I would like to get to know her.”

“You will when the time is right.”

I walk towards the kitchen as she moves from the wall to the window, her eyes never taking it off of those images.

I placed a small security camera at the top shelf in my kitchen, making it unnoticeable, and connected it with my phone. I took out another small box that contained another security camera and handed it to Y/N.

“There’s a possibility of them finding out about our address once they get to know about our plans. So take this, and install this somewhere where nobody will notice it. And don’t be surprised when one of them or all of them enters your house when nobody’s there.”

“Alright,” she takes it from my hand and puts it back into her satchel.

“Come on, let’s go to the roof.”

“The roof?”

“Yeah, I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” she walks past me towards my door. I unlock the door open as she busies herself in putting her shoes back on. As we got outside, I locked it behind me and walked towards the elevator. 

We got inside the elevator and pushed the button to go upwards.

“Did you get the invitation for the Alumni Awards?”

“Sorry, what?”

“The Alumni Awards ceremony at Sung-han High. It’s in a few days.”

“Oh yeah maybe I did. I haven’t checked it yet.”

“Am thinking of going.”

“Wait, they’re going to be there too, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes. You need to come as well.”

“What’s the use? We aren’t even getting any awards?”

“It’s not about awards, Y/N, it’s a game of intimidation.”

She kept staring at me as if I said something illegal that deserves life in prison. We didn’t talk for a while.

The elevator came to an abrupt halt and the doors slowly opened before us. We stepped outside and climbed few more stairs to finally get to the roof.

It was a beautiful evening with the sun just setting, the color of the sky a perfect hue of flame. We came near the edge that overlooked the houses that stretched far beyond our vision. The tall buildings at far distances created just the flawless silhouette I’ve ever witnessed. Everything about Semyeong just felt so beautiful at the moment. I never took some time for myself to appreciate how exquisite this place this. The ordeals I faced here, never actually gave me any time to appreciate anything about my life.

“You see the house there?” I points to the one nearby.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“That’s where Yeon-jin lives.”

The perfect moment she was in immediately faded when she heard her name.

“That’s where she lives?”

“Yes. Ha Ye-sol, Ha Do-yeong, Park Yeon-jin, all under the same roof.”

She looked at me with her bewildered eyes, a face of the scared.

“But-then why did you buy this apartment? Wont they find out easily?”

“Not so easily Y/N, she has no clue whatsoever. She still thinks that she can get away with anything. She never learns.”

She looks back at the house. The lights on the road and inside the house lit up as it got darker. We didn’t talk for a while. The sun had set a while ago. Everything is just happening so fast, it’s making me feel overwhelmed, but I didn’t think of telling that to Y/N, otherwise she would be scared too, almost like how a mother deep down feels scared for their children but acts like there’s nothing wrong, just for them to not get scared.

It’s been my dream, for so many years, to stand here and watch over all of them, behaving as if they did absolutely nothing wrong, as if, they can get away with anything they want. Little do they know, that am right here, right in front of them, to prove them wrong.

“The day I dropped out from Sung-han High, I went to meet them, at the gym.”

She removed her hands from the edge and turned to look at me.

“What?”

“Yes. That day, I felt something new, some kind of new change in myself, something a bit evil.”

“Evil?”

“Yes. Almost like, the end of their reign, but a beginning of my hell.”

“What happened that day?”

“That day, was the only day I entered the gym voluntarily. Nobody forcibly dragged me there, I went in completely on my own. I remember so clearly, as I walked in, Hye-jeong started walking away from me, as if she was scared of me. But I ignored her, and went straight to Yeon-jin, sitting at her usual place. The weirdest part is, we talked about our dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“Yeah, they submitted their “dreams” at Cyworld, and I read all of them, told them about those that day. Yeon-jin dreamt of becoming a wise mother and a wife, Choi Hye-jeong dreamt of becoming a stewardess, Jeon Jae-joon wanted to own the golf course, and Lee Sa-ra dreamt of being an artist. Obviously, they asked me about my dream as well.”

“So what did you say then?”

“Yeon-jin,” I said with a pause. “I told her that she was my dream, and that I really wish to meet her again.”

“So all of our dreams finally came true.”

“Indeed. And I wish to bring them to their knees and show them no mercy.”

She turned around to look at me again, but I didn’t. I haven’t taken my eyes off of that house.

“Does Ha Do-yeong have the slightest idea that he married a monster?”

“He doesn’t, but he will soon. And so will Ha Ye-sol. I wish to isolate her to the point that the people she holds dear, the ones who covered up her crimes, will give up on her. Soon then she will feel like the only human on this planet, she would become completely transparent. All of her crimes and secrets will show up and she will rot in hell. Nobody will ever even think, of helping her. You can never change a monster, Y/N, never.”

She stares at me for a while and then looks away. The air was filled with aroma of the potted plants behind us.

“Do you wanna know what Myeong-oh’s dream was?”

“What?”

“To become rich.”

She began eyeing me from the side when we burst into laughters. When was the last time I laughed like this?

We took a breather to stop ourselves from more laughing. It was quite hilarious how Myeong-oh dreamt of becoming rich yet here he is, working as Jae-joon’s lackey.

“Alright then. I guess I’ll see you on the awards day.”

“Yeah.”

We went back the same way we came to the roof. Climbed down the little flight of stairs and got into an elevator to the ground floor.

I saw her out and got her a cab. As I went up to my apartment, I was thinking of how I could have told her about the meeting I had with Myeong-oh few days ago. I will tell her when the timing is right. I bribed him enough to keep him in suspense—he will also be the one to know who murdered Yoon So-hee, hopefully.

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

Pt. 6 will be out soon

[lunarmoves]

Man, when I wrote that ask, I thought Sun’s reaction would be along the lines of ‘feeling betrayed and angry over his favourite human’s perceived abandonment of him, either doing his best to right them off or creepily tracking them down to confront them and maybe even forcing them somehow to never leave him again,’ or even ‘realizing how he had been treating y/n was hurting them and he wants to fix it.’ Starting a whole robot apocalypse hadn’t occurred to me.

When reading a few of your previous drapples from before this Bleeding Wires au all started, I had imagined that Sun was somewhat already aware of his feelings for y/n and that he cared for them, but he didn't know how to express that without his grim thoughts and tensely charged anger getting in the way. Most interactions were usually friendly, but y/n had come to believe that those weren't really genuine considering all the occasions of hostility Sun shown to them. This idea greatly contrasts though in how you explain that Sun only begins to understand his feelings for y/n long after the uprising.

Now that he has y/n, will Sun be able to realize why they are scared of him? And why they left the pizzaplex in the first place? Will he be able to recognize the part he did in making them feel this way? Or is that amount of empathy still out of his reach?

TO BE FAIR i didn’t expect it to segue into a robot apocalypse either LOL. id been throwing out small ideas and answering asks abt a sun who believes in robot superiority beforehand and i guess my brain just connected it at an instance where it saw an apocalypse could be started?? i think it was just heavily on my mind beforehand ngl. i do plan on answering an ask i received about what wouldve happened if the apocalypse aspect was cut completely LMAO

i WILL say tho that yeah, a lot of my drabbles before bleeding wires was started DO involve a sun who is more accepting of his feelings. and that’s because i like writing multiple versions of sun LMAO. you’ve nailed that sun completely correctly! those drabbles are not related to bleeding wires bc the sun in them does not have a superiority complex. he’s more… aware that he is a robot, afraid of being replaced should he be found broken, slightly unhinged, and waaay friendlier. all the relevant asks and writings to ‘bleeding wires’ (aka where sun has that robot superiority complex) should be tagged accordingly! anything outside of that involves different flavors of sun that i like to play around with c: like— i have definitely written nice sun before LOL, one who isn’t unhinged in the slightest, bc i do like that version of him as well. it can get confusing keeping track of it all, so i apologize if things get mixed up or if i say stuff that doesn’t align ! i’ll go back and double check tht everything is tagged appropriately. and maybe ill make a masterpost sorting out the different sun types LMFAO (i.e. nice yet sarcastic sun, nice yet unhinged sun, robot superiority sun, etc)

back to bleeding wires— in arc2 i like to imagine that sun gets better with emotions to the point where he IS able to empathize to an extent. at some instance, him and reader will have a conversation about why you left, bc that’s something sun has thought about a lot, and he’s definitely not going to let you off the hook in terms of answering him. in that conversation, you will for sure talk about the issues you had/have with him. because explaining to him why you left would involve you mentioning that you thought he didn’t like you. that now you are scared of him and what he has done.

and by then sun has seen his fair side of fear and anger and stuff in humans, making him able to better identify such emotions. and he knows he has caused it all. so he will be able to look at himself in the mirror and think about how he may be seen to others and why, precisely, you are so frightened of him. while he definitely won’t be the best at empathy at the start, he’ll learn—as his AI was designed to do. just… he’ll learn a little bit too late

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Once Upon A Time I Used To Know A Girl

Chapter 11

Carol Danvers x Reader

Masterlist | This work's masterlist | AO3

Summary: Kamala and Valkyrie have a heavy conversation, Valkyrie has had enough.

Angst, Slow Burn, Amnesia.

Word count: 948

Searching For Meaning

"You did what?" Kamala shrills.

"She ambushed me." The girl shoots Valkyrie a look.

Kamala pinches her nose, "You told her Carol's codename?"

"I did no such thing, I merely called her 'Marv' and she put the pieces together, it's not my fault she's that smart." The King tries to downplay it.

"How could you do that?"

"In my defense during the whole conversation I only slipped once, at the end. I deserve some credit for that."

The girl is beyond agitated, "No, you do not, you literally did the one thing Carol asked us not to do!"

"Correction, the one thing she asked you not to do," The King accentuates the word 'you,' "as far as I’m aware she hasn't spoken to me since she got back." She crosses her arms.

The girl stops her pacing around the room and lowers her voice, "Wait, not even once?"

"Not once."

"Are you okay with that?" Kamala asks feeling a little awkward.

"Does it look like I’m okay with it?"

"To be fair, you do always seem to be pretty chill with everything which is something I envy," she admits bashfully.

"Either way, it is not her wishes I work to uphold."

"Then what is it?"

"Peace." Valkyrie asserts with grace.

"God, you really are starting to sound like a King." Val feigns offense, "Well she's gonna find out sooner or later," Kamala points out, getting them back to the problem at hand.

"So we should get to her before she does." Valkyrie has already thought it through.

"How? She's not responding to anyone, clearly."

"All the more reason to pay her a visit." There is a mischievous look on The King's face.

"Hold on, before you do that, there is something I need to talk to you about," Valkyrie stops in her tracks, "I've been thinking,"

"Is that news to anyone?" Val teases her.

"About this whole situation and there is something very strange going on."

"Yeah, I told you that the first time you called me."

"I think I know what it is now." That catches The King's attention.

The girl begins to explain her train of thought, resuming her pacing, "The last mission she remembers is the one before she met Carol. She remembers Aladna and Prince Yan, but not Princess Carol. She remembers her home in Louisiana, but not that she shared it with Carol. She remembers working with Monica, but not working with Carol. She can't remember Monica's last mission with us, or that you became King, both of which involved Carol. She can't remember Carol's voice or her uniform," Valkyrie looks at her, confused, "the scar on her neck, I saw it before, but I didn’t pay it any mind."

"It’s from repeated use of a sedative," Val points out.

The girl stops again, "How’d you know that?"

"I don’t scar easily, but, if I did, I may have one just like it."

"So her nightmares are true," Kamala concludes.

"What are you suggesting?"

"Her memory loss wasn't an accident, it was the whole plan all along."

"Careful what you say little Marv," The King warns her.

"Just think about it, it's not like she only remembers things from a certain date back and she has been able to gradually recall more people and events with our help, but even though she has seen and heard Carol she just doesn't recognize her." There is a mixture of thrill and terror in the girl’s voice.

"You're saying the ambush's purpose was to kidnap her and take all her memories of Marv away? Why would they do that?" Valkyrie is not sold on the theory.

Kamala tries to make sense out of it, "Why would the bad guys take the most powerful good guy's loved one and erase their memory?"

"To get them out of the way, obviously," you meddle into their conversation, "you probably don't have enough power to get rid of the hero so you take what's most important to them, usually a damsel in distress, they'll be so aggrieved that they'll take themselves out of the game, then you can do whatever you want." The answer seems so clear to you.

They both stare at you in slight panic that you might have heard their discussion, "That checks out," Val accepts your answer tentatively.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing," they respond in unison. You sit beside them trying to ignore the silence your presence just created.

After some time you decide to break the tension, "I keep thinking about that symbol, I mean, if I worked with her for so long I would have definitely remembered it when I saw it again. And ‘Captain Marvel?’ It doesn’t feel right rolling off my tongue." Kamala’s heart skips a beat hearing you say Carol’s codename for the first time, "If she didn’t have anything to do with the accident, why did she go MIA? Just to piss me off?"

"To piss all of us off," Valkyrie mumbles, rolling her eyes, Kamala silently scolds her.

"She was so aggrieved that she took herself out of the game," the girl repeats your words slowly.

Realization dawns upon you, "Am I the damsel in distress?" Kamala can only give you a sympathetic smile, “How long?” You frown trying to process the news.

“Few years,” the girl answers softly, making your heart drop. Learning you were in a romantic relationship with The Captain for years makes it all the more concerning that you can't remember her.

Trusting you’re in good hands, Valkyrie borrows the keys to one of the very expensive cars in the compound and takes off.

"Where is she going?"

"To find Captain Marvel."

Chapter 12

It's almost time for a reunion, who's ready? 👀

Tags: @graniairish @carols-photonblast @thelittleliars @unicorniusfallapatorius @prplepeony @eringranola

Let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

[crisalidaseason]

Ties with frayed ends

Summary: The table scene from Mikasa's perspective, also, she refuses to see Armin being beaten. Content Warnings: spoilers season 4, slight canon divergence, angst, violence, eren being cruel, some dialogue is taken from the table scene, mean eren, toxic eren, platonic arumika, mikasa loves armin very much, mikasa and eren are SIBLINGS here, strictly siblings, mentions of declining mental health, nightmares, night terrors, insecurities, mentions of blood and broken bones, a little eremin if you squint very hard.

Mikasa was numb, hearing and watching everything as if she was outside or her body. The boy - no, the man - seated on her left was far from the sweet green-eyed brother she grew up with. He had an indifferent face, eyes a dull color with all life drained from it. As the blood ran through the cut on Eren’s hand, staining the table cloth, Mikasa wondered if this stranger deserved the name. 

“I just wanna talk to you” Eren’s voice was just as dead as his eyes, but Mikasa’s ears were too muffled to even register that. 

The Ackerman's feelings were in shock, but her instincts caught the trembling of the young girl across from her. She should have known, should have taken her out of that place. No matter what Eren’s words were, Mikasa could feel her senses burning and screaming that something would go horribly wrong.

“More conflict isn’t necessary to solve eldia’s problems…” Eren continued, and at that point Mikasa was only hoping Armin was paying attention.

She looked at Gabi again, still terrified. Her eyes landed on her brother. It was him. That moment solidified what Mikasa feared to even think about in the dead of night: her brother was turning into someone’s devil, his very name and presence causing fear in young hopefull children. Mikasa felt sick, she remembered all those years, listening to the cries of mothers, fathers, lovers, sons and daughters who mourned the ones claimed by the colossal’s first attack. 

“...attack Marley on your own?...” the familiar voice of Armin sometimes brought the girl back to the present. 

She looked at her friend for the first time since entering that room. Her precious Armin. He had bags under his eyes, a horrible shade of purple that never abandoned him. He was speaking, his voice just as soft -and yet firm- as it always had been. He was always such a comprehensive friend, but also his constant need to understand the full story often sent him into such horrible places. His lips moved, his blond eyebrows frowning. He wanted to understand Eren, he always did. 

“I am free, Armin” Eren’s deep voice finally broke her haze. 

Freedom. She wondered what he meant, if he ever knew freedom at all. 

“My actions are governed by nothing but my free will” he said again, eyes dead, so dead. 

He is lying, lying. The voice inside her said. She knew her brother, he was lying. She knew him, didn’t she? He would not choose to do those horrible things, her brother was not like that. Eren had his fair share of crimes, so did she and Armin and everyone else, but he would never…he would not do all of that on purpose. Eren was not evil, she could not bring herself to accept that. 

Armin spoke again, but she could not hold herself anymore.

“No way” she spoke for the first time, her voice harsher than she would ever speak to him “you’re being manipulated. The Eren I know would never involve civilians and children in a war even if they were enemies”

His eyes were so dull, so dull.

“And you wouldn’t risk our lives either!” she continued “you care about us, don’t you?”

She was not fully aware, but Armin’s hand touched her elbow, slightly trying to pull her down, yet she still stood up. Her mind and body were restless.

“You rescued me from that cabin, you wrapped this scarf around me” she felt her eyes sting, her hands holding the red cloth “you’re a kind-”

“I said keep your hands on the table, Mikasa!” Eren firmly exclaimed.

Silence. Mikasa felt her eyes burn in solidarity to her chest. He was never the most quiet person, neither held his rudeness around her and Armin when his feelings were all over the place, but something about his words, his face, felt different. She sat down, feeling her legs wanting to give up, then she noticed Armin’s touch. 

“Back in Liberio, I spoke with Zeke. Brother to brother”

Brother? Her throat went dry, the stinging in her eyes suddenly running down her body, stopping on her trembling angry hands. Brother. Zeke. A man who Eren never met before, a man who murdered their comrades as if he was playing, a man who was never there when Eren had fevers, never cleaned his cuts and bruises, never comforted him in moments of grief and neither celebrated his moments of joy. Zeke was never there, but she was. How dare he call Zeke brother.

“I don’t-” Armin’s eyes were wide.

A gasp from Armin sent her back into the present. She was succumbing to distractions, she needed to return. 

“If memories play a major role in shaping us into the people we are, then part of you has become Bertholdt” Eren spoke, his green eyes burning on his friend “within you is an enemy who has feelings for another enemy. Do you understand? Bertholdt has gotten into your head, you’re the one being manipulated by the enemy”

He did not. Eren did not say that. Mikasa was torn between shedding tears and breaking something. He had no right to do that, he had no right to poke at Armin’s fears knowing all of those horrible nights in which the blonde screamed after a nightmare. Bertholdt’s memories haunted the blond boy for so long that Mikasa worried that her friend would never recover. 

ººººº

“I feel as if there is someone sharing my mind, my body. And they are so many, Mikasa, so many!” the blue eyes were full of tears, his entire body shaking violently, his voice falling him after waking up screaming. Mikasa could only feel her heart twist at the sight of a nightmare frightened Armin. 

“I’m here” she would say to him, embracing Armin’s shaking figure. 

“Where is he?” Armin would whisper.

“Not here”

ººººº

“Why would you-” Mikasa yelled, her anger was already coming to the surface. She had shown Eren her wrath before whenever he was slightly rude to Armin, and she would not hesitate to put her brother in his place, she would-

“You’re being controlled too” he directed his vile speech at her “the Ackerman clan was designed to be perfect to protect their host.”

Shut up, she wanted to say.

“Your ackerman instincts were dormant until that life or death situation in which you heard me order you to fight. The strength and certainty you felt that moment were awakened because your blood mistook me for the host you were made to protect”

“That can’t be” shut up.

“Why not?” he continued, his eyes burning her this time. Her eyes also burned, the tears were forming. She knew it. 

“It wasn’t a mistake” her voice was failing her “it’s because it was you, it had to be you, you are why I became strong! how could that be a mistake?”

“As an ackerman with awakened powers, you’re apparently supposed to get headaches frequently” Eren ignored her pleaded “Research said it’s the Ackerman trying to resist being forced to protect their host. Sounds familiar?

“You’re wrong” Mikasa wanted to scream, but she could only whisper.

ººººº

“What if I am…just a tool” she confessed on a late night insomnia session with Armin and Eren “What if they’re right?”

The trio was laying on a small bed, Mikasa laying on Armin’s stomach and her feet resting on Eren’s lap. Armin was looking at the ceiling, the thin pillow supporting his neck from the cold wall, he would occasionally put little braids on Mikasa’s hair to occupy his hands. Eren was almost dozing off, he had tried to stay awake with the other two insomniacs but always ended up sleeping. 

“They are not!” Armin said, tugging one of her braids softly “You’re Mikasa and that’s all. You’re my best friend, Sasha’s biggest torment, Captain Levi’s bane. 

“You’re fun, your dry humor is one of the best things whenever dinner is miserable, your also have the best gossip to share and the worst advice” Eren commented, his speech slurring. 

She laughed, rolling her eyes at them. She was horrible comforting people.

“You know what I mean”

“And I also know it’s irrational to think you’re just a mind controlled person” he firmly told her “let’s forget this nonsense, hm? What do you think about stealing something from the kitchens” Armin said, looking at her with his menacing smile, like the little thief he was. 

ººººº

Eren knew how she felt about being diminished as a person, how people were quick to judge her actions and behaviors with no grayscale. He knew how dehumanized she felt and yet there he was, reminding her of the quiet insecurity that haunted her deeply. 

“What I am saying is that you belong to a clan that was created to protect and obey. You are slaves” he almost seemed proud of every word he uttered. 

“Stop, leave her alone!” Armin yelled at Eren, which almost distracted her. Armin was never one to yell unless severely distressed. 

“You wanna know what I hate more in this world?” Eren ignored Armin, eyes still focused on hers “anyone who isn’t free, you are no better than cattle”

“Eren” Armin’s warning tone reached her eyes.

“The mere sight of you has always made me so angry…now I know why. I could not stand seeing a slave with no mind of her own, who always followed orders without question”

Shut up, shut up, shut up! She wanted to scream, punch, hurt him. He had no right to say those things to her, to Armin, to anybody!

“Believe me when I say that, Mikasa” his voice would forever haunt her “ever since I was a kid, I hated you”

Time seemed to stop, the words repeating and reverberating in her head. She searched for a single drop of regret over his words, and she found none. She found dull and dead green eyes, his venom filled voice consuming her heart. Her blood was so loud on her ears that Mikasa almost did not register when Armin lunged himself across the table with a cry of rage. In a matter of seconds, her body acted faster than her mind, and she pinned the blond boy on the table before his fist could collide with Eren’s face. She looked at her hands, at Armin’s blue eyes filled with pain, reflecting her own hurt feelings. 

What have I done, she thought, Why am I protecting him if all he does is hurt us?

Mikasa let go of Armin, looking hatefully at her own traitorous hands. At that point, she had no strength to stop the blonde, she had no right to restrain him after what Eren told him. Eren was no more, the man in front of them was not her brother, her friend. He was a stranger, lost in the threads of her memory. She was tired, she was so tired. Her heart was in so much pain that Mikasa feared it would give up beating.

What have we become?

As soon as Armin’s fist made contact with Eren’s face, she knew this was over. Armin’s burst of anger was the proof she needed, they were not a trio anymore. Eren left them for good, so distant that she would never be able to reach him. Armin was all she had left, and as Mikasa watched Eren pull the blonde by the collar and throw him on the ground…she snapped. If Eren was no more, he would not touch anything precious to her. Never. 

Against her own heart and mind screaming at her, Mikasa jumped over the downturned table and grabbed Eren’s shirt, yanking him back. 

He is your brother!!

Her punch broke his jaw.

He is Armin’s friend, he loves him!

The other punch cracked Eren’s nose. 

He is not lost, we can’t save him!

She cried, screamed. Her tears mixed with the blood pouring from Eren’s nose. If her brother was trying to defend himself, she did not notice it. She kept going, punch after punch. 

Why are you doing this! Stop, Mikasa-

“Stop!!” Armin’s voice took her by surprise “Mikasa, stop!”

She felt Armin’s hands digging into her sides while he tried to lift her from Eren’s middle section. The blonde was not weak as the others said, he had a considerable amount of strength, but Mikasa had monstrous force whenever she was out of her mind, the blond struggled to lift her, resorting to words.

“Mikasa, we need to leave. Now!” He yelled “the others need us!”

She stood up, eyes hyper focused on her bloodied brother. She saw the damage’s result on her hands, still trembling. She had done that, she…she hurt her own brother. 

“Mikasa” Armin pleaded, trying to catch her eyes “we have to go”

Mikasa was breathing heavily, her throat felt like sandpaper, a result of her screams of rage and sorrow that she did not remember uttering, but all the soldiers, Armin, Gabi and Eren himself witnessed. 

“We lost him” Armin’s voice was nothing but a whisper, a pained one.

She finally landed her eyes on her friend. He had a visibly broken nose, which made her cringe at the sight of his face swelling. She hesitated for far too long. 

“We lost him” she whispered back.

Eren’s groans caught her attention again. He was still on the ground, holding his stomach where she most likely kneeled him. He had blood all over his face and staining the floor. Mikasa felt horrible. Everything was wrong. They were supposed to see the ocean together, travel the world together, maybe come back to some peaceful place and live together. They were meant to be three in one. 

But Eren was never within reach.

[bucksdaffy]

I 100% agree with your Oliver post you made earlier. But I would love to make another point but coming from a bisexual man.

Like I said I agree with everything you said. But the only thing for me is that it’s sad it took him almost 5ish months to post something about the storyline? You could have easily posted something during pride month (yes I know it was hiatus and he was clearly off social media) but it’s sad he didn’t engage with buck Tommy fans a little more even if he didn’t know the storyline wasn’t going to last past 7x10. The storyline was introduced and he could have engaged. A lot bisexual started watching the show because of this storyline and see themselves in this storyline. So actions sometimes speak louder than words.

Again this me just ranting along. I seriously loved your post because I agree with all of it and so many valid points in it! I just hope this season he does engage more or just don’t engage with any fans stuff to make it fair.

yeah. i want to reiterate for those who haven't seen the post that i don't blame him one bit for not engaging, especially considering his past with this fandom. i believe there are plenty of possible reasons why he's not doing it, all of which i explained in my previous post. ultimately it's not his job; his job is to act, not to interact with fans on social media.

that being said, i definitely see your frustration. hell, i was frustrated myself when i saw he liked a buddie post once around the s7 finale, while still paying no mind to bucktommy. i can certainly understand why the silence during pride month could be especially disheartening. after all, this is the time when we celebrate queerness. seeing a person involved in the story who you admire not acknowledge it can definitely sting a bit. i could never blame you for feeling this way.

but i do think it says more about us than it does about oliver. why do we need his validation so much? why do we feel personally offended if he does something we don't necessarily approve of or like? why do we care so much about him telling us that he is on our side? of course, it's good to have validation, but it shouldn't be detrimental to our well-being. if we don't agree with the way he lives his life, well, it's not his problem. he shouldn't have to change just because we want him to. and as i said, i think he has many valid reasons for choosing not to engage.

and besides, why don't we hold lou to the same standard? why are we so harsh on oliver but let lou slide? he hasn't engaged with anything bucktommy since the s7 finale, including during pride month. he's also a vital part of this story. what's the difference? (just a disclaimer: this is not me trying to make light of lou's situation. i'm very well aware of the differences, although i would argue that they don't make oliver's experience any less valid).

i join you in hoping that season 8 brings about a more comfortable oliver who doesn't shy away from interacting with bucktommy content as well. or perhaps a more self-assured oliver who doesn't engage with either buddie or bucktommy stuff. and if that doesn't happen, i hope we can find peace within ourselves and stop caring about what the actors portraying these characters do on their social media. the only thing that should matter to us is the show. let's focus on that!

[browneyedhex]

The Faults of a Broken Man

Before we get started I want everyone to know before they click  to the page that this is going to heavy. It's not going to be your usual sad story that mentions depression. There will be topics of drugs, violence, possible sex but I don't know yet but I just want to mention some possibilities about what you may read.

If you are sensitive around these topics especially anything depressing, relating to death or loss, drugs, and touches of self harm please exit this story. I'm aware this story may be listed as "M" for mature, however I'm going to be publishing this story on other sites so more people can read it if they wish. This is just a little project for me and writing from a person who has been through some things that may be mentioned.

I don't think it's going to be a love story for those that like the romantic type of Dallas x reader stories, it's mainly about him however most of it may be placed in your POV. This will probably be more of a friendship thing, but anyways.

I hope you guys enjoy and if you wanna read it elsewhere let me know, I'll send you a link :) Words:3k+

You couldn’t quite grasp the way the man before you had changed. Though, it wasn’t just him- everyone had changed. Even the atmosphere of the house that the gang had adored had changed.

It was unnerving. There was no noise. No hollering, feet stomping, beer-bottle clinking, or the sound of furniture being toppled over when the guys got too rowdy and couldn’t contain their energy.

It had the same type of feeling like- you know how you’re the first person to be awake in the house in the early morning? You knew there were others in the house, but you were just focused on yourself and what you needed to get done and how you felt.

The way the morning made the house slightly chilly and the sound of birds could be heard faintly. It was like that, but heavy. Heartbreaking. And no one was asleep, everyone was awake. And it wasn’t early in the morning.

The main positive thing that had happened was everyone was around each other more often and no one thought that was possible. How can you be more involved with each other when you were already spending every day together?

Maybe it was the fact that no one else is town could understand. Maybe the sheer horror that there was a chance another member could be gone.

The everyday routine was still there, but something as simple as brushing your teeth became an inconvenient chore. Everything did. You felt as though it may have been harder for Darry, seeing as he’s the caretaker of the group. The one who cooks for everyone, makes sure everyone is well taken care of, but how do you do that when no one wants to eat and doesn’t care if they shower or wear the same clothes for days?

To the outside world- it may have been pathetic and disgusting to think of someone not being keen on their hygiene and not caring how they smelled, but they just didn’t get it. But you and your group of family did.

But Dallas, the one who was laying on the sofa it was a hard thing to place about him but the way he looks and the vibe about him seems different than the rest. It wasn’t a secret to the gang that he had gone through some of the toughest shit in life but never wanted to speak about it, but everyone knew. He had faults and some already broken pieces.

And in an odd way; you felt lucky. Not about a man being down but the fact you had people to share the pain with, maybe theirs were deeper than yours but in the end, you were all grieving. It didn't matter if someone knew Johnny by more minutes, hours, days, months,.etc.

You were all very gratefully to know Johnny Cade.

You just wished he had gotten to know a bit more about life outside of the neighborhood and as silly as it seems, maybe some love and not just from the gang.

All his life he had only known hate- by his parents and the Socs. It wasn't fair.

You take a moment to look around the room. Everyone was still. It was so out of character. It looks as though time froze and you were the one granted to move and look at your friends before you. But they weren't frozen, they just weren't there. Everyone was in their heads and maybe now- everyone could understand what it was like to be Pony.

Behind the scenes everyone was dealing with their grief in different ways. Steve turned to stealing hubcaps and selling them, missing work, and avoiding home all together with a drink constantly in his hand. Sodapop spent most of his time crying in the bathroom or staring at a blank wall looking like any second he could break.

Two-bit barely spent any time watching Mickey Mouse anymore. The show could be on but his eyes thought the old carpet below his feet deserved his attention more. No one would believe it in a million years but, Darry he just let everyone do what they wanted. He still cared, but this time he wasn't going to fight Pony if he decided to stay out longer or if his grades were slipping or he didn't eat. He didn't get angry when someone would slam the door. Shit, sometimes he would forget to make dinner but like mentioned before, no one really wanted to eat. He even missed some shifts at work, spending some time on his dads recliner with a drink in hand.

Dallas well, he was very quiet. But at any moment was waiting to blow. No one knew what he was thinking as his eyes always held that kind of look like he was thinking but wore a poker face. He just needed to look mean and he would be left alone. He was the one to eat the least, smoke and drink the most.

And then, there is you. Your role is very difficult. You basically pick up the slack around the Curtis's house and didn't mind. It took your mind off Johnny's death even if for a few minutes. You would cry when you felt like it, but if Darry wasn't going to make a meal or Pony or Soda were not gonna clean, you felt obligated too. You felt as though if no one pitched in the house it may look like Two's.

At the moment Soda's head feels heavy thinking about a letter that was waiting to be opened in his nightstand. It's a letter from the army. He was scared to death. he had seen enough death and it was messing with his head already and he didn't feel like he could be one of those that can take a life. Especially someone that may be a sibling or loved dearly by their folks. He didn't wanna take that away.

No one knew about the letter, not yet and he didn't know when the right time would be and he didn't wanna leave his best friend behind. He didn't know what he would do without Steve.

"I need a smoke." Dallas spoke after what seemed like hours of silence, pushing himself up from the couch and walks outside letting the door slam behind him. It was surprising that Darry hadn't bothered to unscrew the screen door and stash it somewhere else yet because the sound of it smacking as it returned was really annoying.

You get up from the chair and bend over slightly, your palm resting against the back of the couch as you slightly open the blinds to check on Dallas. His back was slightly turned but you knew that he was looking at the lawn in front of him his hirsute eyebrows furrowed together, the wrinkles on his forehead bulging in folds as he would think. Smoke went up from in front of him as he leans against the wall.

"He'll be fine- It's Dallas for Christ sake." Two-bit says as he watches you watch Dallas. And maybe he was right, but it was still abnormal for Dallas to be quiet and not suggest the boys to tag along with him for some semi criminal activity.

You push yourself off the couch and walks towards the kitchen, "He's not acting right." You say, swinging the fridge open and look inside. It was mostly liquids. Someone was gonna have to go shopping again and guess who it would be? You.

Breathing out through your nose you hear Sodapop say, "None of us are acting right."

He was speaking the truth but you felt like no one was getting or seeing Dallas like you did. Maybe Pony notices it or maybe his head is still keeping him busy with remembering the good times with his friend. The only person who seemed to get him and didn't judge.

"I need a Pepsi." Pony pushes himself off the floor as he makes his way over to you. "I don't think there's any left." You told him since you had just looked in the fridge, making him groan and kick the corner of the fridge, "Dammit!"

You sling your arm around his shoulders and guide him away from the fridge, "C'mon, let's go get you one. It'd be good to get out of the house for a bit." You knew it was going to be hard to get him away from the comfort the house provided; being shielded from prying eyes and the fact that no one wanted to accept that the   rest of the world was going on with another day.

Opening the door it makes a noise that makes Dally look over at you two. You give him a nod, "You wanna come with us to the DX?"

He shrugs, flinging the rest of the cigarette in front of him and licks his chapped lips. "Yeah, I need to get some things anyways." He takes the lead and opens the gate. You let Pony go then yourself, closing and locking the gate behind you.

"I might not have enough money on me to get one." Pony pats around in his pockets, digging just a few pennies and you offer a smile, "Don't worry about it- my treat."

He smiles back and oh how much it took him to just do that. His face had remained vacant for days on end so it felt strange for his lips to curl a bit.

The rest of the walk to the DX was quiet except for the sound of Dallas's boots dragging across the gravel roads and Pony kicking random rocks- every once in a while someone would clear their throat. Cars would go by and you could hear their engine and people talking off in the distance.

It was a good thing that the walk to the gas station wasn't that long. Maybe about five minutes and you were grateful. The silence was killing you and you weren't use to being the one to do the most talking. Usually Dallas couldn't keep his mouth shut and would rant about girls, crime, Buck's, shit back at home, or whatever else there was to mention plus, a little bit of teasing towards you and Pony....there would be some for Johnny too..but.

Pony walks past you two and you guessed he was just in a rush to get his favorite drink and head out. You take a second to glance at the back of Dally's head and you wondered what kind of things he needed. And you thought about how weird that felt, you normally just minded your own business because like who cares what someone gets from a corner store? But with his behavior lately you couldn't help it.

It was probably just gonna be a pack of smokes and maybe he'd steal some individual alcoholic drinks, but you just never knew.

He swings the door open and you both stroll in. The familiar smell of the DX welcomed you. You glance down to see a mop and bucket. It looked like someone had spilled something and you reach your leg to the other side where the puddle ends so you could get to the coolers and get yourself a drink. The place smelled musty and a faint smell came from the cooler in the back as you opened the door, selecting your favorite drink.

You look over your shoulder and sure enough, Dallas was by the alcohol taking his time eyeing what was there, probably looking for one with the highest alcohol content that didn't taste like shit. And you wondered how you had enough money all the time for all the times he drank, maybe he was gambling and hustling others at pool again. Who knows, it was Dallas.

"3 okay?" Pony's voice broke your gaze on you other friend and you look over to him as he carried three cans of Pepsi in his arms and you nod with a smile. "Yeah, sure. Anything else you want? Snacks? Candy?" You offered and a part of you felt like if you let him get whatever he wanted maybe just maybe he would feel better and that would make you feel better, but realistically speaking food wasn't going to get someone through the stages of grief. Food was just there for a moment not a lifetime.

He shakes his head, "No, this is just fine." You weren't going to push and Dallas shows up to your side, "Put your stuff up there you two, I'll pay." He nods his head towards the counter and you both just let him pay, it wasn't worth arguing over who would pay even though you hated for people to pay for you. But maybe letting Dallas pay for things would help him feel better just like the thought of you getting Pony extra snacks did.

"6.87." The clerk says and he eyes Pony, flapping a bag open before placing the items inside. Dallas opens his wallet, digging around for the money before throwing the bills on the counter. You could see Pony was feeling uncomfortable as the clerk kept eyeing him. You look between him and Pony before speaking, "Got a problem?"

His eyes move from the boy to you but back to him, "Your brother needs to make it to work at some point or he'll be fired. I'm surprised I haven't done so already." He gathers the money, putting it in the till and licks his fingers like old people do before grabbing the change.

You scoff and furrow your eyebrows and you could see from the corner of your eye that Dally's knuckles were turning white as he gripped the side of the counter and Pony stiffen on the opposite side of you. "Our friend died. He can find another job, asshole." You grab the bag and let yourself be the first to exit, holding the door open for the two to come out.

"Where's his car?" Dallas spoke roughly and his eyes darted around the parking lot, trying to locate a lonesome car that most likely belonged to the guy and you had no doubt in your mind he probably wanted to either slash his tires, break his windshield and key the sides. You had to take control even though the sight of him fucking up the car would be entertaining, but you couldn't let him get dragged to jail again. No, you had lost enough people.

"Let's just go home, Dal." Pony spoke, brushing past him and Dal took a minute, looking down at the pavement licking his lips then sneers at the man in the building before turning on his heel to follow Pony. You were thankful and was the last to leave.

It was oddly comforting that no one besides the brothers lived there at the house and everyone had had their own, but the Curtis's house felt like a real home and it was funny how everyone knew what 'going home' meant. It was always that house.

Dallas wasted no time in digging into the bag that was in your hand and takes out a bottle, twisting the cap off with his shirt before taking a swig. It was broad daylight and he was underage, but Dallas didn't care. He wanted to drown his depression and grief he felt for the one person he loved. And maybe that was wrong he loved everyone in the gang though he wouldn't say so, but Johnny was Johnny. Dallas was ready to kill himself over the kid. No one knew if he would do the same if it was anyone else in the gang.

You watch as he chugs down the rest of the bottle before chucking it to the side on a fence the bottle breaking against impact and he wipes his lips free from the beer that dripped.

"You might wanna slow down there, Tex." You lightly joke and your lips curl upwards, but he shrugs and digs into the bag once more repeating the actions of earlier. "I'm good."

You sigh, letting him be and look ahead to the back of Pony's head. He hadn't opened a can yet, probably waiting to just sit down and drink it instead. And you noticed how his drinks weren't in the bag like the clerk didn't bother putting them in, man that whole situation pissed you off to no end but with how often you went there you didn't want to get banned because you cracked the guys head open.

No, just following Pony to the house was better.

The gate swings open and slams behind him before you and Dal catch up and walk on the lawn to the front of the house. When the door opened you look around. No one had moved. It was like they were super glued to their places. You run a hand through your hair - a habit you have been doing an awful lot lately.

You look over at the clock that was hung up on the wall. 4:25, someone ought to make some dinner soon even if the food wasn't going to be consumed you just needed one thing to still be the same and somewhat normal. You place the bag down on the couch and walk over to the kitchen. You grab some pans and some random ingredients out of the fridge and cabinet. You felt nervous cooking for what seemed like a whole family because that's what they were. Normally you would just cook for yourself and maybe your mom, so you didn't understand how Darry did it. His meals were always perfect and he carried so much confidence when he was in the kitchen, right now you felt like a loose mouse searching for food and hoping not to catch the kitchen on fire.

One fire was enough and maybe that was what made you nervous to cook. You didn't want to stare at the flame as you turn on the gas to the stove, you didn't wanna smell it. You didn't wanna work with it, but the boys need to eat.

Sighing, you turn it on hearing a click before the flames rise and you turn the temp down a bit. "Dinner will be ready soon."

God, please let my boys eat.

[ouatsnark]

On the topic of Gold.

People really don't talk about how bad of a dad, granddad, and husband he was after he became the dark one.

I will not deny he was a good/decent dad to Baelfire before he became the dark one? But after?

The poor kid was terrified and ended up hating magic because of it, even into adulthood.

He traded away their second kid without discussing with Milah OR Belle when the two started dating.

He was all for murdering his grandson knowing the pain it would cause (because he lost a kid. He knew what it felt like and was willing to permanently injury/kill Henry. To permanently take away three people (HIS OWN SON'S) ten year old son and two people's own grandson (not including him in that since he clearly didn't care) before he found out Neal was dead.

He didn't respect Neal's wishes or Belle's.

He stole someone's baby during the hero and villains' thing.

He was gonna take ASHLEY'S baby and has been implied to have taken others, for purposes we do not know.

And he killed Milah TWICE. Like wtf.

And I don't see enough people talk about it?

People will seriously defend him to the grave not acknowledging any of this.

I don't get how. The man was willing to permanently take away multiple people's children (his 'true love's' and his own son's son included) despite knowing damn well how it felt.

And he doesn't show much remorse, does he?

I hate that retcon with the Charmings being baby snatchers but at least they showed remorse!

I don’t think much discussion happens around Gold at all because he was a minor character and not in the way of any major ships. Sad, isn’t it? Because the ship he is involved in was toxic as hell and deserves a lot of discussion!

Yes, I will agree that Rumple was a decent father before becoming the dark one. Rumple, however, was never a descent husband. To be fair, Milah wasn’t a decent wife either. Her anger over her husband being unable to kill someone when she, herself, wasn’t willing to do it, is just … wrong. But Rumple trading his second born without telling Milah (and later not disclosing this to Belle) was an asshole, cowardly, move. Does that make him a rotten father though? He was doing everything he could for his son. I do believe branding himself a coward was selfish and did his family wrong by dishonoring them.

However, blaming Rumple for his actions after being consumed by darkness is a tricky thing. I don’t fully blame Rumple because he was literally just consumed by darkness. He wasn’t even aware at the time what he was doing even though anger, cowardice and indignation led him to this fate… he was still consumed by a literal evil force. I begin to blame Rumple for his actions as the Dark One around the time he let his son fall through a portal. He was struggling there for control and he lost it. It’s like when Killian chose Emma above his power and over his own life. Rumple was just weaker.

The Rumple stans 100% do not acknowledge that Rumple’s love for Henry was very much contingent on his own happy ending. If Neal hadn’t been dead, Henry would be dead. If it had come down between Henry and Belle, he wouldn’t have hesitated to kill Henry. Rumple was very selfish.

And that selfishness showed in how he controlled Belle’s life. He never asked her before he did anything. He put her in a sleeping curse so he could get what he wanted in S4 during the shattered sight curse. He went against her wishes to wake her in S5. And again in S6 he locked her on his ship, tried to force her to give him their child and then didn’t ask her in S6 finale if she wanted to participate in his mother’s curse! Her life was basically a chess piece for him to maneuver around to gain his own happiness.

Rumple also got away with killing Milah twice. And I always forget: HELP ME OUT HERE… does Belle know that Rumple killed Milah or does she still think it’s Killian’s fault? Because that was always a WTF for me. I am pretty sure Rumple lets her think he isn’t a wife killer when he is.

And no, Rumple has zero remorse. After all “it is the man he is.”

I also hate the Charming baby snatching retcon but to be fair they didn’t know it was a human child. So in no way are they even on the same plane of evil as Regina or Rumple. But yes, they are the only ones to show remorse for harming a child. Well, Killian too. He regrets leaving Bae to Pan after being offended by Bae’s rejection.

P.S. The baby he stole during the AU was baby Snowflake aka Snowing’s child.

[zooophagous]

Strauss arose from his grisly slumber to stalk the halls in search of a meal. He was peckish, and had awoken a bit later than usual, and both of these disruptions to his delicate equilibrium had left him looking a bit more sullen than usual. He passed people in the hall who stared and whispered and quickly looked away and hurried past him.

 

He raised an eyebrow. To be sure- having people scurry away from him in fear like pill-bugs was hardly a new occurrence for the elder vampire. But the people in the Van Helsing Institute knew him, and by now, knew better. Something was off. Something was wrong. The fact that they hadn’t stopped to tell him what it was only meant one terrible thing.

 

Whatever it was involved him.

 

His sour expression grew confused and gradually more concerned. What people in the halls that didn’t immediately flee from him were busy feverishly cleaning, organizing, moving things and looking frantic. He turned the corner to the director’s office. She would know. Her door was open however, and Artemis was nowhere to be found.

 

Now his concern was inching into panic. He craned his head into the room looking for her.

 

“Frau Van Helsing?... Artemis?”

 

“THERE you are.”

 

Strauss turned around to see Ursula with her arms at her hips, looking very upset with him. She usually did, but today was different. Today was worse.

 

“Frau Harker. What is going on? Where is Artemis?”

 

“I wouldn’t worry about her right now. It’s YOU that’s in trouble.”

 

He froze. In that moment Strauss would have sworn he felt his dead heart squirm fearfully in his chest. It had happened. Ursula knew about him and Artemis. They’d been caught. They’d been found out. Someone saw. Someone heard. What to do? Confess? Deny everything? Beg for mercy? What had Artemis already said? He opted to swallow hard and force his now dry tongue to ask as calmly as possible.

 

“What did I do this time?”

 

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware. Nothing NEW anyway. But what you’ve done in the past is bad enough. It’s all gone over my head now. I hope you’re satisfied.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“Please tell me what is going on.”

 

“We’re being audited.”

 

“Audited?” Strauss raised his eyebrows. “Audited by whom?”

 

“By the church, of course. Did you think they just threw money at this venture without ever asking where it went? You’ve stepped out of line one too many times and now they’ve had enough complaints and we’re being audited.”

 

She became more animated as she spoke and threw her hands up in frustration as she turned away from Strauss.

 

“Follow me, you’ll be needed for this. First you need to get dressed. Something decent. A collared shirt, one that’s been pressed. And comb your hair, you look like a damn hobo. An audit. Under my watch. I can’t believe this. This is all your fault. My rules aren’t just here to torment you, you know. Now you’ve done it. Now it’s out of my hands!”

 

Strauss followed her meekly to his room. “Frau Harker. What does an audit entail?”

 

“They’re going to double check all of our security protocols and observe the facilities and make decisions about how bad of a job we’re doing. They’re also going to want to speak to you, personally, to determine if we’ve done a fair job rehabilitating you. You will be with me at all times until they leave so we can pretend we care about proper containment. It goes without saying you MUST be on your absolute best behavior.”

 

“I must be interrogated by a stranger?”

 

“Yes. And not just any stranger, the most important stranger you’ll ever meet, Strauss. I don’t really know how to say this any more clearly, but if you fail this interview, it is very likely that Project Symbiosis will be terminated.”

 

“And what then?”

 

“What then?” She let out a mocking laugh and turned to face him. “If the project is terminated, so are you. They certainly don’t have any use for you.”

 

“So I am, very suddenly, being asked to prove my own life is worth living, and if I step out of line, I am condemned.”

 

“Yep! Make it count!” She replied, sounding rather frantic and dropping her usual in-control facade. She stomped into his room and threw open the closet. Strauss normally would have balked at that invasion into his privacy- but she was on a mission. She threw clothing out onto the bed.

 

“No, no. Not this. Not this either. How many black tee shirts does one man need? Do you have any sense of style? Ah- here. This one. It needs pressing but… UGH it will do.”

 

She shoved the shirt into his chest. “We will have to cover the wrinkles with a jacket, and if you’re wearing the jacket you may as well wear the tie, too. Do you have any cologne? Any breath mints? Clean your fingernails. Brush your teeth. Do SOME thing.”

 

“You seem to be taking this worse than I am, Frau Harker.” Strauss did as he was told and threw off his shirt to slide into the off white button-up she’d forced onto him.

 

“I am worried, Strauss. The complaints we’ve been served with are not without merit. We’ve had two live subjects, both of whom escaped, both of whom have gone on to attack humans and only one has been recovered. If it were me doing the audit…”

 

She rested her hand over her face and staunchly blinked back frustrated tears.

 

“If it were you, you’d be siding with the complainant.”

 

“You have your work cut out for you. This auditor is someone I know, actually someone I respect. A vicar. Goes by the name of Emille but you should really call him Vicar Martin. Or at least Mr. Martin. Herr Martin. Whatever damn honorific you Germans use. I don’t care.”

 

She looked at him with a disgusted grunt. “Please do not disrobe any further until I leave. Meet me in the hall when you’re done. Unfortunately I must be next to you at all times to keep up the illusion that you are adequately chaperoned. Don’t think I’m sticking close to you because I’ve gone soft on you.”

 

“You sound concerned for my well being, that is all the softer you need to be, Frau Harker.”

 

“If I actually wanted you dead, Strauss, you’d be dead. Believe it or not I have a vested interest in your well being if only because I don’t want to make my niece cry. Well. That and… truthfully it would be an awful waste. I mean, with the education and everything we’ve sunk into you…”

 

“I am touched.”

“Get dressed.” She stepped out and waited in the hall. Strauss soon emerged, looking like he was late for some sort of interview for a job he didn’t want.

 

“Ugh, that’s your best suit is it? If you survive we’ll have to fit you for a new one.”

 

“Do we know what to expect from this auditor?”

 

“I’ve met this vicar a few times before. He’s not unreasonable. Not hateful as far as I can tell. He’s supposed to be neutral and impartial. Your history of good manners will work to your benefit here.”

 

“I appreciate your vote of confidence.”

 

“Yes, well, no sense in trying to make you feel bad at this point in time. You’ll have to sink or swim on your own merits.”

 

“Will you please tell me, where is Artemis?”

 

“First name basis with Artie, are we? She’s being interviewed separately from yourself and seemed to think it prudent to maintain the appearance of emotional distance between herself and her subjects. I tend to agree. You will be with me, and later you will return to your room, which will be locked for appearances sake, and I will bring in Troy.”

 

“Troy is also in trouble?”

 

“Not yet, but it is a non-zero chance.”

 

“He cannot have Troy.” Strauss bristled under his suit coat.

 

“If he tries to take Troy or harm Troy in some way I will kill him.”

 

“Will you shut UP. You cannot go into this interview talking like that. Nobody is going to do anything to Troy. Please worry about yourself, I will take care of everyone else.”

 

Strauss shut his mouth tight in a stony silence. Ursula would protect Troy, he was sure. She was probably actually the best person to play bodyguard anyway. But even the simple inference of a possible threat set him on a hard, sharp edge. It was already quite too late for the vicar. Strauss already hated him now.

 

Ursula led him to the game room, which was uncharacteristically shut and locked. She knocked on the door and opened it.

 

“Vicar Martin? Subject Luther Strauss is ready to visit.”

 

Strauss groaned quietly. ‘Subject.’ Indeed.

 

“Wave him in.” Came a cheerful reply.

 

“You do not want security to sit in?”

 

“No need. I’m sure he’ll be good. Besides, I need to see him without someone influencing him.”

Ursula turned to Strauss and nodded, pushing open the door. Strauss meekly stepped in and flinched slightly when the door shut hard behind him and the lock jingled, signaling his entrapment with the auditor.

 

Vicar Martin wasn’t all that intimidating. He wasn’t in any sort of official looking robes. He wasn’t even wearing a tie. A wispy white head of hair and a short white beard sat over a cheerfully ruddy face framed by thin metal glasses. It was the sort of face that could have been easy to be friends with, if not for the obvious.

 

“Hello Mr. Strauss. Or do I call you Luther?” He got up from the chair to shake hands.

 

“Doctor Strauss to you, if you please. You are Vicar Martin? I was baptized Martin Luther Strauss, once upon a time. We shared a name.”

 

“Yes, but you know that’s a sore subject with us Catholics. I can’t say I’m a huge fan of Martin Luther.”

 

“That makes two of us.”

 

Strauss took off his jacket and tossed it aside and began to undo his tie. He pointedly ignored the vicar’s attempt at a handshake.

 

“So. You’ve come to do an audit, is it? Or perhaps this was some ploy to get to see a vampire in person.”

 

Martin smiled. “You got me, Doc. I had to see the eighth wonder myself.”

 

“How appropriate, that so many of the seven wonders are in ruins. Is it worth the effort? Do I impress you?” Strauss paced around the room, looking for a game on the shelf, not looking at Martin while he talked.

 

“Maybe I should give you a demonstration of might. Give you something to write about in your little notebook. Would you like that? Perhaps we can go to the garage bay and I can throw a car for your entertainment. Or change into a bat and take you on a ride around the grounds. Then we can come back and have tea.”

 

“I’m getting a note of hostility here, Doctor Strauss.”

 

“Hostility? No.”

 

Strauss dragged out the last syllable sarcastically.

 

“No, I love surprises and meeting new people. Having my routine interrupted is my favorite thing. Being made to wear clothing I am not comfortable in to impress people I do not like puts me in fine humor.”

 

Strauss selected a game box with checkers from the shelf and placed it on the coffee table.

 

“I especially enjoy being on trial for my life. It’s grand fun. Almost as fun as checkers. Sit down. We’ll play a round while we talk.”

 

The vicar nervously took a seat. “You know, an audit is serious but I’m not here to accuse you of anything, Doctor Strauss. I’m just an auditor, I’m not a judge.”

 

“ ‘I’ll be judge, I’ll be jury, said cunning old Fury. I’ll try the whole cause and condemn you to death.’ “

 

Strauss recited a line of poetry from memory as he set up the chessboard. Disdain was all but physically dripping from his fangs. He chose the black tokens for himself as the vicar watched him curiously.

 

“You’re a fan of board games?”

 

“I enjoy games, though I usually prefer the more challenging ones. I would have chosen Scrabble, but I do not think it would be fair to you. I am very good at Scrabble.”

 

“And you think I’m not?”

 

“Prove me wrong.”

 

Strauss made the first move, deftly picking up a checker in his claw and setting it down with a sharp click. “So, Mr. Martin. I suppose you have some uncomfortable pointed questions to ask me about all the wrongs I’ve committed. I’ve never been to confession before, having been raised protestant. You will have to guide me along. How many hail Mary’s is a human life worth?”

 

“Heh.” Martin scooted his red piece a space forward. “Just a few minutes into this and you’re already confessing to a murder?”

 

“It is logged in my file. I trust you did your homework and read ahead before visiting me? Or am I giving you too much credit?” He clicked another piece forward. “It would be very stupid to sit down with me alone without knowing what to expect.”

 

“You’re right, it would be. I have seen your file, Doctor Strauss. I also know it wasn’t one murder, it was two, and a severe bite not too long ago.”

 

“Ah, but now you are already being uncharitable to me. It was only one murder. The other was clear cut self defense. I would argue that any creature has the right to defend its own life as well as it can, without a black mark upon its soul.”

 

“Do you have either of those two things? A life or a soul?” The vicar asked quietly and skipped over one of Strauss’ pieces.

 

“Those two points are as debatable as they are irrelevant. If I lack a soul it is only clear evidence that a soul is unnecessary. If you refuse to call it a life, my existence at least has been worthwhile.”

 

“And what have you done with that existence?”

 

“I am working on my education. I have one already, as you know, but it is out of date. I have earned my GED from some half baked American school and I am taking college courses. I especially enjoy organic chemistry. It is very difficult. I am barely scraping by with a passing grade.” He click-clacked his checker piece two in a row over the vicar’s.

 

“That one is your favorite even though you’re close to failure?”

 

“Yes. I enjoy the challenge. I am never bored with it.”

 

“What do you intend to do with that degree?”

 

“Artemis has encouraged me to try my claw at forensic science. Personally, I wish to resume my role as a physician. I am especially interested in pediatrics.”

 

Martin snorted. “Now, forgive me for saying so. But that’s rich. A vampire pediatrician? Are you even safe to have around children?”

 

“You are a Catholic clergyman. Are you?” Strauss narrowed his eyes at the vicar and claimed another of the red pieces. “In addition to my ongoing academic pursuits I am fluent in three languages, including Latin. I participate in numerous research projects including live anatomy demonstrations and I am told I have contributed vast swaths of new knowledge to the realm of vampire studies.”

 

He folded his claws. “It turns out that if you ask us nicely, we are happy to oblige.”

 

“Hmm. Yes. All good things. It doesn’t seem like your mind has completely gone to waste, then. What about physical conditioning? Does your lodging permit you the ability to adequately exercise?”

 

“You almost sound as if you are concerned for my physical well being, how quaint.”

 

“It’s part of the audit, Dr. Strauss. Inhumane or overly restrictive conditions would be as much of a cause for concern as overly loose ones. Or I should say, almost as much as a concern. If it were overly restrictive, it would only be harming you. If it were overly loose, it would be harming you and others.”

 

“I believe I know what you are trying to ask. This is about my night out, yes?”

 

“About your rampage.” The vicar replied coolly. “Calling all of that a night out is a euphemism, and you don’t seem like the sort of man to deal in euphemisms.”

 

“I am barely a man.”

 

“What are you then?”

 

“Genderless. I am more of a concept than a man. I am a tiger.”

 

“Alright then. Not sure what pronouns to use for that one. But, about your rampage.”

 

“It was a very simple mistake. My needs are not complex, but they are strict. They were not being met. When one cages a tiger, one must be cognizant of its needs and respectful of its power. Frau Harker and the Institute were neither. Not at that moment. I slipped away.”

 

“You slipped away and attacked one person and terrified several more.”

 

“He put his hands on me first.” Strauss growled. “I had a broken ankle, several fractured ribs, and I was both freezing and starving. Him putting his hands on me in that moment was a tragic mistake on his part. I do not blame him for it. In fact if it pleases you to know, we have since made amends.”

 

“Amends?” Martin raised his eyebrows. “They let you see this person again after mauling him once?”

 

“Yes. I thought repentance was something your lot purports to be a good thing. Mr. Samuel and I have put the past behind us.”

 

“I take it that Mr. Samuel also knows your little secret then too?”

 

“Yes. He also knows about Herr Cunningham. He has visited the grounds several times. He is one of cherished few we feel we can trust with our secrets. He is of a persuasion that knows what it is like to be unjustly mistreated because of their identity.”

 

“I appreciate the honesty Dr. Strauss. I wish I could say it was doing you favors. But, if I may be honest in return, the purpose of this audit is to be very strict. So far I have that you bite when overwhelmed, are prone to escape, you seek out former victims who did survive; and even though you’re getting an education you want to place yourself in a position of power over very helpless patients with that education. How do I know you made amends with Mr. Samuel? And didn’t just threaten him into silence? Where is that threshold of your needs not being met, that would make a tiger hungry enough to hunt again? How much of this intelligent, well read identity you put forward is real and how much of it is an act?”

 

“An act.” Strauss bristled.

 

“Shut your God damned mouth you mediocre, chewy clot of undercooked fat.” He bared his teeth and grabbed the checkerboard and tossed it casually to one side.

 

“You have the great privilege of seeing me without a shadow to hide in, and you think it is all an act. As if you know what part of me is true or false from reading off of your clipboard. You know of the bite but not the reason why. You know of the murder but not the self defense. You are spoon fed prejudice and swallow it without a second thought like a child swallowing arsenic when told it is a vitamin.”

 

Strauss stood up, using his height to tower over the flustered and cowering vicar.

 

“And what have you done with your life? I have brought patients back from injury and illness. I opened my crypt to fleeing innocents during the bombing of Europe in the great wars. I have caught and disposed of more wickedness in my jaws than could fill a dozen of your dossiers. I have lived over two hundred years, and I will live two hundred more, whether or not your audit agrees with me.”

 

“So you’re throwing the audit on purpose?”

 

“No. I am warning you not to stick your fingers in my cage. Tigers seldom warn twice. You already know what happened to the last one who tried to meet me in my den.”

 

The vicar steadied himself and tried very hard to look the angry immortal in the eyes. “Dr. Strauss, I assure you that I-”

 

There was a commotion in the hall that made both speakers stop and stare at the door. A cacophony of “What do you THINK you’re doing-NO YOU CAN’T GO IN THERE” and the door flung open to a harried crowd of Ursula, Artemis, and Troy all but dragging Sam in by the arm.

 

“Oh good nobody shot you yet.” Troy grinned at Strauss. “Hey! Vicar Martini or whatever your name was, we have a character witness for my buddy Strauss here. This is Sam, say hi Sam.”

 

“Hi Sam.” Sam parroted sarcastically. “Hey Strauss.”

 

“Sam was one of the guys Strauss bit, when I heard you were coming I knew I had to go get him to tell you that everything was fine now. I mean, you gotta have a character witness at a trial right? Also I can vouch that Strauss has a pretty strong moral compass. He only ever bites guys that have it coming. I mean except Sam and that was an accident and they’re cool now.”

 

“Yeah, he actually saved me from getting hit by a car once so now we’re even or whatever.”

 

“Yeah, he’s also a doctor and he helps me when I have my lycanthropy episodes.”

 

“Sorry I’m late, Vicar Martin. I had to chaperone Troy when he was out of the grounds. Have to be extra thorough on audit day.” Artemis smiled and folded her hands behind her back.

 

The flustered vicar threw up his hands. “Will all of you please stop talking for a minute, I can barely think in here.”

 

“Now you see why I was overstimulated to the point of biting.” Strauss mumbled and went to stand behind Artemis. He was coming down from the angry high of being brave, now he only wanted comfort.

 

“If Luther didn’t frighten you away, I’m ready to sit down and chat. One on one or in a group.” The director smiled brightly.

 

“No need.” The vicar collected his papers. “I actually have already heard enough.” He turned to Strauss with a subdued smile. “Congratulations Dr. Strauss, you’ve passed your audit.”

 

“What?” Came the reply in near unison from the crowd.

 

“Your vampire friend here was quite the conversationalist. He didn’t stray away from his feelings, or his past. I think after hearing this, that the real reason for the audit did not actually involve you.”

 

“Real reason?” Artemis turned to Troy and Sam. “Can you two wait outside for a moment?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“What reason is that?” Strauss asked from behind Artemis.

 

“I probably shouldn’t tell you too much, but, you’re bound to find out on your own. Director Van Helsing…” Martin sighed. “There has been a murder.”

[rebouks]

Previous | Next

Transcript:

Kian: I shouldn’t be talking to you without my lawyer. Norma: You’re the one who agreed. Kian: Well, I won’t be here much longer.

Eugene: That doesn’t matter to us. As long as you acquiesce, we can speak to you whenever we please. Norma: We’d still like to get to the bottom of a few things; with your cooperation, of course. Kian: In exchange for-…

Norma: We don’t accept bribery. Eugene: Besides, you’re not even on trial. Kian: [sighs] I just want to help.

Norma: Your brother didn’t tell you where he was going? Kian: No. Norma: Why? You weren’t close?

Kian: Kind of, he was hard to get along with at times. It upset him, how father always put me first. Norma: But he was more involved than you, right? Kian: He wanted to be-.. but yeah, I guess he still was.

Norma: And you have no idea where he might be? Kian: … Eugene: Is it fair, that you’re here and he’s not?

Kian: He has connections in Del Sol.. whether he’s there or not, I don’t know. Norma: What of Mr Shapiro? Kian: He could be anywhere by now; he’d never tell me.

Norma: What was his main role? Kian: Everything and anything? Although, he never really touched the whole, uh-.. trafficking thing. Norma: That was Mr Shaw’s area of expertise?

Kian: [snorts] I guess. Kaden was mostly tied up with our relations overseas, our lead supplier was in Selvadorada. Eugene: Do you have specifics? Kian: His name is Ramiro. I never met him-.. not in person, but I can show you roughly where the main farms are.

Eugene: Hm.. I’m going to assume the name Silas Watson rings a bell? Kian: Uh-.. yeah. Eugene: How did he die?

Kian: Wyatt killed him. Norma: How did Mr Clarke react? Kian: …

Eugene: We’re well aware of their previous relationship. Kian: I’m sure he was distraught, but he hides his feelings well. Norma: He wasn’t a mere bouncer, was he? Nor were Mr Harper, or Mr Finch.

Kian: They were just security, nothing more. Norma: I thought you wanted to help. Kian: [sighs heavily] I’m giving you what you want-.. aren’t I? They weren’t involved.

Eugene: We’re grateful for your assistance. Kian: It’s the right thing to do… Norma: I’m sure you’re exhausted; we’ll speak again once you’ve settled into your new home.

[sonadowwiki]

”Hard work” no one prompted you to do. You did this for entertainment and I don’t think anyone online is entitled to any type of “respect” or “fairness.” She got whatever from you. You and other fans got whatever from Sonic franchise. Commissions and all. Pretty sure founders of the franchise "worked hard” on that, but you don’t see them whining about it. It’s a chain. There is no originality. If you’re so hellbent on it, try taking it to court, which I doubt you’ll have a real case with. I’d rather do this over involving others since I’m the one with the main problem. 

“Fairness,” laughable. Since when was there ever real fairness in life, let alone the internet? Last time I checked, none. 

Why do I care? Why do you get to care and I don’t? That’s the implication I’m getting. I’m not the one who posted and pinned this long post pinned a long “awareness” post about it against one specific person all because you didn’t get what you want and couldn’t rely on the clout you already have. “Admitted” injustice from her? Okay, let me clarify and admit you both straight up suck in different ways. For her it’s not exactly the same way you’re thinking, though it’s not about Sonadow. I’m neutral about the ship. For you, I think you get the idea.

If you think my way of expressing opposition which I’m sure anyone can be harsher about is “aggressive” “rude,” and “gaslighting,” you’re clearly exaggerating. Turn off anonymous asks if you think I’m "insecure" and that it’s indecent having an opposing opinion and someone like myself can suspect that you seem like the type to start some more petty awareness raising against me because of my oh-so indecent opinion because I’m not one of those who are willing to kiss your behind over anything pathetic like this. 

Your answer shows what kind of person you are. All you're doing is just pushing the blame on everything else to try to justify yourself and your actions despite still being a coward and hiding behind being anonymous. Whether we have them open or not, still shows that you chose to be a coward and attack someone without trying to get your reputation ruined. You cared so much about reputation that you can't even fight us head on with a name attached through your own choice.

We do fight for what the company actually wants, whether you know that or not. And unlike the video creator, we make sure to credit everyone on the wiki. We put every link, and even link fan artists that are shown in images connected to officials. So unlike what you're trying to claim, we do respect the company and others by trying to credit each person fairly.

If you choose not to be fair, even on the internet, then that shows that you don't want to take that effort to be a decent person. You even coming out of your way to bully and harass someone in anonymous messages shows that you're not a decent person. You're just selfish in your own way and want to justify what fits your narrative. Someone like you defending people isn't a good look and nothing you said proves that her actions are not unjust.

Instead of answering the question, you ask a question back that leads to nothing. That doesn't answer why you specifically care about this issue enough to go to us and be rude and disrespectful as an anonymous person. It's not saying that we get to care while you don't, it's questioning why you go these lengths unless you're involved with the people who were unjust. And I question why you care even more as someone who isn't even a fan of the ship or the creator in the first place. Why go these lengths?

Again I will remind you we don't have clout. People may look at our things, but that's it. Telling people of others' misdeeds is not something that really has to do with you specifically unless you're part of the group that helped with it. Therefore your anger and bullying doesn't really make sense. Perhaps you're just into causing drama.

I think you need to remember that you're the one who came to bother us and get involved, whether you're anonymous or not. Trying to blame us for your actions is childish, especially when we talk back to defend ourselves against your intimidation, harassment and disrespect. If you don't want to be responded to, then don't make a comment in the first place.

You also use strawman arguments just to have confirmation bias towards your narrative. This is about an unjust action from a user towards us. Other users were more respectful and know school 101 to cite their sources. Just because someone is doing something wrong and you think that it's normal, doesn't mean that it's okay. Therefore, we showed the unjust actions of the person because what she did wasn't right. Simple.

We're not asking you to kiss up to us. We are only responding with what is morally right. You don't just have "a different opinion," you're being disrespectful to try to push your "opinion" on us or change us through your "opinion." In this case, you're projecting what you want to do to us unto us. Also, what you consider an opinion in this situation isn't an "opinion." What you're saying is that we should excuse others' bad actions because you find it okay or that those type of things should be let go. That's not morally right, therefore, that's why we stood up against it. It's like saying that stealing is wrong, whether digitally or physically. Standing up against that isn't wrong or something that should be shamed like you're trying to do to us. It's something you speak up about and tell others of so that change for the better can happen.

Lastly, the reason why we did the wiki isn't for specifically "entertainment." It's mainly because people constantly lie in this fandom. People lie about how characters are, they lie about their relationships, they lie about how they interact with one another. Showing official content was to show others how things really are instead of the fan interpretation they've been lied to with for years. Another reason was to help stop the bullying towards Sonadow because their fans constantly got bullied due to those lies, such as saying that Sonic and Shadow aren't friends, that they fight all the time, that they hate each other, that there's nothing between the two, etc. That's why we show official content to show that that's not the case.