#you don't really need to have played the games to read this
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Thoughts on two specific areas of the writing in Sonic X Shadow Generations
The best new 3D Sonic game in over a decade (or even two, depending on who you ask) dropped late last year. And I didn't write anything about it! Sometimes life happens. Well, I've finally sat down to finish Shadow Generations, and by now everyone has already been singing its praises for three months. This is the rare instance where the entire Sonic fandom, and even mainstream reviewers, are in agreement on something. The level design is the best it's been in a long, long time and the cool factor is off the charts, embracing Sonic's peak cringe era in an incredibly confident way. It's great. If you're even reading this post, you probably don't need me to tell you that. So I won't!
No, what I'm really interested in here is the writing. Because this is me we're talking about. But I actually don't want to talk about the main narrative of Shadow Generations, which is really solid little story about Black Doom trying to mold Shadow into his perfect soldier. No, I'd like to zero in on two other aspects of the writing here: the revisions made to Sonic Generations, and Gerald Robotnik's unlockable journal.
The updated Sonic Generations script
The new package mostly presents Sonic Generations how you remember it. There are some tweaks, but it's not a major overhaul. Graphically, I don't think the game has been touched much, if at all. I certainly can't notice any difference without a side-by-side comparison, despite playing it on a PS5. The most notable update is that the game's script has been rewritten by Ian Flynn.
Naturally, this caught my attention. Generations always had a nothingburger story, so with Ian rewriting Pontac and Graff's lame dialogue there was nowhere to go but up. (I don't like to pin the blame for those games' stories entirely on them, as a ton of it was dictated to them by Sonic Team, but, well, I don't think they're very good dialogue writers.) But it's less a complete rewrite and more like Ian was brought on as a script doctor for some minor touch ups here and there. Many lines of dialogue are completely identical to how they were originally written in 2011, and many others only have slight wording changes. Ian was clearly not allowed to request additional scenes or extend the ones that already existed. He has to match the original beat for beat so that they can reuse 99% of the cutscene animations. Don't expect it to be a whole new experience compared to the original.
Still, I think the new script is an improvement, albeit a minor one. Various things have been tweaked to maintain characterization consistency. Cream calls Sonic "Mr. Sonic" instead of just "Sonic." Instead of calling Sonic "buddy," Rouge uses the pet name "Blue," like she tends to do in things like the IDW comics. Espio doesn't have to remind you in the dialogue that he's a ninja, and he no longer has a line making it sound like he has some kind of soul reading power. I also like that Modern Sonic now actually has responses to what his friends say when he rescues them, rather than being silent like Classic Sonic. They won't blow you away, but they make Sonic feel a little more engaged with everything.
In general, the altered dialogue just seems tighter to me, and some of the more childish or trite wording of Pontac and Graff's script has been altered. Here, let's actually make a direct comparison, just because this stuff is interesting to me as a writer. Here's a couple lines from after the Egg Dragoon fight late in the game, in the original script:
Modern Eggman: Ooooh... I can't believe this! I was supposed to beat you this time. Modern Sonic: Aw, I'm sorry! I didn't get that memo. I beat you every time! [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat this guy every time. It's like it's our job or something!
This is a simple exchange. Eggman is mad that he lost. Sonic is unflappably confident because he always beats Eggman, and he explains this to his younger self. But the wording here isn't particularly good. Eggman's simple and direct wording makes him come off like a little kid who's mad because his older brother beat him at Mario Kart, rather than a mad scientist who just had his plans foiled. It's making light of the situation.
And I've never liked Sonic saying "It's like it's our job or something!" That doesn't feel like a thing Sonic would say, it feels like a thing an outside observer would say about Sonic. This is a frequent problem with so-called "MCU dialogue," where quips meant to echo the commentary of a casual, somewhat disinterested audience are inserted into the story itself so that the writers can be like "See? We get it. We're genre-savvy, too!" It also just reminds me of bad Sonic Boom: Rise of Lyric lines like "Rings! It's like they're made for me!"
And then here's Ian's rewrite:
Modern Eggman: I recalibrated everything! This was supposed to be my time! Modern Sonic: Oh, please, keep dreamin', Egg-head. I beat you every time. [Turns to Classic Sonic] No, seriously, we beat him every time. Our score card's flawless.
Eggman's still mad about his defeat, but the line "I recalibrated everything!" makes it more specific. He put all this work into the engineering side of his latest scheme and got tunnel vision, thinking if he got his creations just right there'd be no way he could lose. "This was supposed to be my time!" also turns it into a time travel pun, which is a bonus. He's still pitching a fit over losing, but it feels more like Eggman pitching a fit, rather than sounding childish.
And then instead of saying that beating Eggman is "like his job or something," Sonic says he's got a flawless score card against Eggman. He doesn't take Eggman seriously as a threat—at least, not to his face. He acts like it's all a game. But he conveys this in a way that feels truer to the character, rather than feeling like the words of a real world observer poking fun at the tropes of the Sonic series.
Is this amazing, A+ dialogue that blows me away? No. Again, it's not a completely different scene from the one we already had. Ian had to fit the beats of what was already there. He couldn't go all out and write an all new story confirming his longstanding headcanon that the Time Eater is a remnant of Solaris or whatever. But the wording here makes the existing story land a little better and feel truer to the characters in subtle ways.
But to me, the main change is that the Sonics and Tailses seem to have a more solid understanding of what's going on with the timeline and the Time Eater, compared to how idiotic they sometimes seemed in the original game. Which is good! No more standing outside Green Hill and wondering why it seems so familiar. Thank god. As part of this, yes, there are a few more references to past games in the dialogue, like Sonic briefly being confused about the fact that they're time traveling without the Time Stones, or South Island and Westside Island being acknowledged as the normal locations of Green Hill and Chemical Plant. Yes, ha ha, insert joke about how Ian loves references here. Look, it's Sonic fucking Generations. It's a game built entirely out of nostalgic references. Just own it! And, again, in this instance Sonic and Tails come off as less stupid when they make it clear that they do, in fact, remember their adventures from presumably less than a year ago in-universe.
Eggman, too, seems to have a better understanding of the powers he's toying with. Where in the original vesion his focus was simply on going back in time to undo his previous defeats and he seemed kind of oblivious to how much the Time Eater was actually fucking up the universe, here Eggman says he wants to use the Time Eater to give himself complete control over the entire timeline. Eggman also makes way fewer references to his own failures and shortcomings. Of course he won't admit that Sonic has defeated him time and time again. To him, he's never truly lost—Sonic just keeps delaying the inevitable total victory for the Eggman Empire.
So, yes. The new Sonic Generations script is better. It won't blow anyone away, but it's better than it was. It's been elevated from "kinda lame" to "fine." No, if you really wanna see Ian flex his ability to breathe new life into old Sonic stories, look no further than...
Gerald Robotnik's Journal
Hoo boy.
The story of what happened aboard the ARK has always been... a bit confusing, to say the least. Fans with encyclopedic knowledge of the script for every route of Shadow '05 may disagree, but it's the truth. We've had all the pieces to understand the story for a long time now, but that info was given to us out of order by a pair of unreliable narrators—Gerald, who became a vengeful lunatic shortly before his death, and Shadow, who was subjected to multiple rounds of amnesia and altered memories. Some of the ambiguity left by Sonic Adventure 2 was cleared up in Shadow '05, but that game also retconned in a bunch of new elements to Shadow's backstory (aliens!) that lead to further confusion. Not to mention the fact that that game had multiple routes and only revealed the truth about Shadow if you sat on the ultimate final boss battle for WAY longer than the fight would normally last. Or the fact that Sonic X made its own tweaks in its telling of the story. Or the fact that none of these things ever had the best English translations. I can't blame anyone who hasn't played those games in two decades for not remembering the truth about these characters and getting some details mixed up.
What we needed was something to piece together all of the info we have into one coherent backstory, told in chronological order. And thanks to Shadow Generations, we have that, in the form of an official journal tying together what we knew from Sonic Adventure 2, Shadow '05, and Sonic Battle into the tragic tale of Gerald's rise and fall.
Ian Flynn was the perfect man for the job here as the guy who started his career by tidying up the mess that was the first 159 issues if Archie Sonic. This is what he excels at: taking disparate bits of weird Sonic lore from multiple different sources, boiling them down to their most interesting elements, and connecting it together in a way that will make the audience see the dramatic potential he's always known was there. Rather than feeling like a cynical exercise in franchise building, going back and explaining things that never needed explaining so that people can add more bullet points to the wiki, he puts a new spin on things that retroactively enriches those past stories. The story here means something to the characters involved and gives us a better understanding of them as people, rather than as plot devices to motivate Shadow.
(And, of course, Ian didn't do this journal alone. He wrote the story, but I also have to give a huge shout out to Evan Stanley, who made the final product. All of her handwritten journal entries, sketches, and "photos" included throughout. The physical damage done to the journal over the course of 50 tumultuous years, passing from Gerald to Eggman to a certain special someone at GUN. The way Gerald's handwriting gets less and less legible as his mental state declines. So much love was put into what could have been a mere text dump in a menu, and it really elevates it to the next level. Congrats on officially getting hired by Sega, Evan, you've sure as hell earned it!)
The main idea the journal conveys is that Gerald was under a lot of pressure from a lot of different parties—GUN, the President, his colleagues aboard the ARK, Black Doom, even his own family—and boy did it get to him. The known incidents aboard the ARK mentioned in previous games are put together here to form a story where everything slowly spirals out of control as Gerald keeps compromising his morals to further his research, thinking he'll eventually find some way out of all this because he's a genius. I won't recap that whole story here (if you haven't already played the game and read the journal entries, I would highly recommend at least reading it on the Sonic wiki), but I'd like to highlight my favorite elements of the story, as Ian tells it here.
1) The Eclipse Cannon
Here's something that never quite made sense in Sonic Adventure 2: why does the ARK have a laser that can blow up the Earth built into it? It was supposed to be a peaceful research colony. Sure, Gerald went crazy and swore revenge on the Earth, but, like... when did he have an opportunity to go back up to the ARK and modify it? Did he have someone else do it? How? The ARK was raided by GUN and shut down! And then they arrested him, held him in prison for an unclear period of time, and executed him by firing squad when he was no longer useful! It doesn't add up. Shadow 'the Hedgehog '05 would give its own answer by introducing the Black Arms and saying that the Eclipse Cannon was always supposed to be a secret trump card against the Black Comet. But, like... we know that's kind of a bullshit answer, right? You don't need enough power to blow up a whole planet just to destroy a comet.
Well, the new journal retains what we already knew, but it paints a much more complete picture.
See, long before Gerald ever made a Faustian bargain with Black Doom, he had already made one with an even greater evil: the military. GUN gave Gerald much of the funding for the ARK, Gerald's personal utopian research station in space, but it didn't take long for GUN to start pressuring him to design them weapons. Gerald tried to get GUN off his back by personally contacting the President of the United Federation, and the President gave him an alternative: how about, instead, you just use your genius brain to figure out the secret to immortality for us, so our soldiers can be immortal? Gerald was initially sickened by the notion and found it completely absurd, like chasing a shadow... but given no other option, the sarcastically named Project Shadow soon began in earnest. (Maria would later put a more positive spin on the name after Shadow's awakening, pointing out that a Shadow can show us the direction of the light, like she says in the game itself.)
Of course, this search for the ultimate life form didn't go very well, and without any results on that front GUN kept hounding him for weapons. Gerald would throw them a bone here and there to get them off his back. His research on Chaos resulted in the Artifical Chaos prototypes, which he worried would be used for warfare but could at least theoretically be used for search and rescue missions in floods, in his mind. But that wasn't enough. So he gave them Chaos Drives to power their mechs. And that still wasn't enough. He's got Emerl. He'll give them Emerl. They're not impressed by Emerl. They'll shut the whole ARK down if Gerald doesn't give them something big.
Fine! GUN wants something big? Gerald builds a huge fucking laser cannon into the ARK. However, as a middle finger to GUN, Gerald makes it so powerful that it would destroy the Earth if it was ever fired at any target on its surface. In other words, GUN now has their ultimate weapon of mass destruction, fulfilling his contract, but they can never actually use it. Oh, the delicious irony. (And also Shadow will blow up the Black Comet with it in 50 years yada yada yada.) Is this perhaps extremely shortsighted and naive of Gerald, to believe that such a weapon would never actually be used just because of the risk? Of course. But hey, that's Gerald for you. And I love this as an answer.
(Also, this, uh, kinda echoes something from real life! Remember the bit in Oppenheimer where he says all nuclear war will become unthinkable, and Edward Teller responds "until somebody builds a bigger bomb"? Yeah, Teller went on to conceptualize a superweapon codenamed Project Sundial that would have been able to kill all life on the planet, as the ultimate deterrent for war. This was never made for obvious reasons, but hey, there's a basis for this sort of thinking outside of heightened sci-fi! There's a whole Kurzgesagt video about this if you're interested.)
2) The Biolizard
The Biolizard is, of course, brought up as the initial failed prototype of the ultimate life form, from before Gerald met Black Doom. We don't really learn all that much about it that we didn't already know, but I just love the way it's framed in the story.
As you can see above, we actually get to see a picture of Maria holding up the cute little salamander that would end up mutating into the Biolizard through Gerald's experiments. (Researchers want to figure out how to replicate salamanders' regenerative abilities for humans in real life, too, so this was a natural starting point for the project.) And then, after it grows to a monstrous size and goes out of control, Gerald has to lock it away in an unused sector of the ARK. He needs to keep the poor thing alive for his research into harnessing Chaos Energy, building life support systems directly into it, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Maria what happened. So it just becomes this first dark secret weighing on his conscience. The Biolizard becomes Gerald's Tell-Tale Heart beating beneath the floorboards of the ARK. I love that.
3) Lost Impact was the breaking point for the ARK
Remember the level Lost Impact in Shadow '05? The flashback level on the hero path where Shadow is running around fighting Artificial Chaos enemies on the ARK 50 years ago? Yeah, that wasn't just a random incident. That was important, as we now know due to its placement on the timeline.
See, Emerl's rampage aboard the ARK that was chronicled in Sonic Battle and Dark Beginnings set off a domino effect. Emerl riled up the Artificial Chaos, causing Gerald to lose control of them. They became violent, and so Shadow had to stop them, as depicted in Lost Impact. The thing is, that incident sent an SOS signal to GUN telling them that shit was going down on the ARK. Gerald didsn't fully understand the trouble he was in and assumed that he'd simply be reprimanded by the higher ups, or maybe face legal action. But, well... the next time he heard from GUN, armed troopers were raiding the ARK.
So Lost Impact was the straw that broke the camel's back. I just really like that detail.
4) Maria
And, of course, there's Maria herself. Maria has often been more of a symbol than a character, this perfect embodiment of everything that's good and pure in this world who gets killed to motivate Shadow and Gerald's revenge plots. But I really like the wrinkles this journal adds to her and Gerald's story, and their relationship. This is the most fleshed out they've ever felt.
For one, the journal leans into the idea of Maria's intellectual potential. The rest of the Robotnik family is all geniuses, after all, and she was proving to be a really bright kid. She excelled in her studies on the ARK, and she even helped design Shadow's jet skates and inhibitor rings. When Maria died, the world didn't just lose a symbolic personification of purity. She genuinely could have been a hugely influential scientist who did so much good for the world. That's what Gerald wanted for her. But we'll never know, because GUN killed her.
Speaking of her family, their presence isn't just mentioned for the sake of fleshing out the Robotnik family tree. It's mentioned that as Gerald struggled to find a cure for Maria's illness through his genetic research, he faced mounting pressure from his family. They didn't want Maria to be up on the ARK forever. They wanted Gerald to hurry up and find a damn cure, or otherwise just send her back home to Earth so she could be with her family again. She'd been up on the ARK for so long that Gerald's coworkers started thinking that she had been born up there. Eventually she gains a baby sister on Earth who she's never met. A rift forms between Gerald's two sons, and he's unable to really deal with it because he's so consumed by his work. There's this sense that the family is falling apart, and that everyone is dreading the possibility that Gerald will never find a cure and that Maria will just spend her final years up in space and die far away from her family, because Gerald just couldn't let go. If that happens, it'll break the whole family. But he can't stop now. So he just keeps working. Curing Maria is the only way to win his family back, in his eyes. It can't all be for nothing.
But my favorite detail regarding Maria is this one paragraph:
Maria is growing into a lovely young woman. It breaks my heart that someone as bright and energetic as her is diminished by disease. There are no visible effects, and I've caught my fellow researchers muttering to each other, doubting her illness. It is infuriating. I find all my reason and restraint vanishes when she's slighted.
This is SUCH a great addition to the story! It's always been true that Maria doesn't really seem all that ill, just looking at her in cutscenes. With this one little comment, Ian flips that issue on its head and turns it into a story about invisible disability. She doesn't act like she's in chronic pain, so she must not be, everyone thinks. And this really, really gets to Gerald, as does the pressure from his family. He's dedicating his whole LIFE to saving her, and they think she's faking it?! It's such a small addition, never referenced elsewhere in the journal, but it adds so much flavor to the story, as does the implied family drama. It grounds Gerald and Maria and makes them feel more like real human beings, rather than being pure archetypes. It's just enough info to let my imagination run wild filling in the blanks.
You also get the feeling that Maria being such a walking ray of sunshine was the only real source of joy Gerald had left in his life before Shadow was awakened, and the only thing keeping him from snapping under pressure sooner. All this stuff just keeps piling on, everything's spiraling out of control, but at least Maria is keeping her chin up, right? It makes so much sense that losing her would make him go off the deep end when it's framed like this.
It's just... man, I never thought I'd care so much about Gerald and Maria. But that's the Ian Flynn touch. After years of less than stellar Sonic writing that seemed to be embarrassed of itself, I'm so happy to have new games coming out that fully embrace the history of the series like this, making its world feel so rich and real instead of just serving as an excuse for a string of platforming levels. I don't even like Shadow '05, but I'll be damned if Ian and the rest of Sonic Team didn't make something amazing by "yes, and"-ing Shadow's cringe past here. Sonic has truly reached levels of "we're so back" never thought possible.
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Crawling Back To You | Matthew Knies
summary: the 5 stages of realizing you're falling in love with your boyfriend’s best friend (college!au).
19.9k (…whoops)
warnings: enemies to lovers | the slowest of slow burns. like seriously buckle up | emotional cheating? kinda not really? | thoughts of infidelity | drinking | intense make out scene | kind of a unfinished ending (sorry in advance) | suggestive scenes and dialogue | read at your own discretion
a/n: this idea randomly popped into my head before bed a few weeks ago and I immediately knew I had to write it. this is for the knies girlies (like yours truly) who can’t help themselves but fantasizing about him—I see you and I got you.
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Prologue
lucas' arm around your hips is a firm pressure, guiding you through the crowded frat house like he's done many times before. you let him easily, smiling at friends as you pass by them.
your boyfriend doesn't really notice anybody else—too busy looking for his friends in the chaotic crowd. his fingers flex around the dip of your hip, squeezing you reassuringly. "you look nice babe."
he's told you that already tonight—when you'd showed up to his door so you could walk to the frat party together—which, is only down the hall from your door—regardless though, it's nice to hear. you tilt you head back to look at him, eyes lingering over his too-sharp jaw and icy gaze. "thanks lucas."
he hums softly, not looking at you as he continues to make way through the sea of sweat covered bodies. you sigh gently, gnawing on your gloss coated bottom lip, gaze flickering away from your boyfriend.
you and lucas have been dating for almost half a year—which in hindsight isn't that long, but when you're in university and spending every waking minute with a person, it soon feels like a lifetime. you met him in the mailroom of your shared apartment complex during the beginning of last term, and hit it off almost immediately.
lucas was flirty, and so sweet that it felt like your teeth were decaying. he was smart and played on the universities hockey team—it was hard not to fall for him. but as your brief honeymoon phase came to a close, lucas started to get a little...dull.
he doesn't make your heart race, and he doesn't have your stomach swooping with his stare or touch, and most of the time it feels like he doesn't have the time for you. but it's fine, because he's your boyfriend, and you care for him. it's just a bit...boring, and unfulfilling.
"babe." he starts again, glancing down at you. "were you able to book off that shift? the one during next game day?"
you frown, stopping in your shuffling steps. "lucas, I already told you that I couldn't."
your boyfriend stops as well, turning towards you with deeply furrowed eyebrows. "you did?"
you sigh, a bubble of irritation rising in your chest. "yes. this morning before class."
"seriously?" he all but huffs, dropping his hands from your waist. "I wanted you there."
"and like I told you this morning, there's nothing I can do about it." you've flushed with annoyance, looking at your boyfriend with a perplexed expression. it feels like you've been going in circles about this damn shift for days—and somehow everytime, lucas makes you feel like an asshole about it. you literally work at the arena, and as only 1 of 3 staff members for the concession stand, getting your shift covered was practically impossible.
his eyes flash with something similar to annoyance. "it feels like you don't even want to watch me play, y/n."
your eyes quickly dart around the room, gulping gently as you make sure nobody is watching the exchange between you and lucas—one that feels like it's on the tipping point of turning heated. your gaze flickers back to his, crossing your arms defensively. "are you seriously going to start this here? in front of everyone?"
despite your words, nobody is paying attention to the two of you—too drunk or high or both to have the awareness they needed to realize what's going on between you and the hockey teams assistant captain.
lucas sighs gently, eyes softening as he takes in your closed off, hard expression. "look," lucas grabs the sides of your face, holding you in place. "i'm sorry, okay?" your eyes drop, mind still reeling with annoyance about the whole situation. lucas thumb runs along your cheek, "we can talk about it later."
there's nothing to talk about, you think. i've already told you.
he leans in, searching for a kiss, but you turn your head just before your lips connect—lucas planting an unexpected peck to your cheek.
from a room over, matthew knies takes a sip of his beer, a smile pulling at his lips as his teammate loudly tells the group about his latest tinder date adventure—new flash, it went horrible. his teammate, gabe, wasn't the kind of guy you wanted to date, and after hearing all these different stories about how his dates went, matthew can't help but feel sorry for these girls.
sean, another member of the minnesota hockey team, nudges his elbow into matthew's side, subtly pulling his attention away from gabe and his loud mouth and comical expression—currently acting out how he'd opened the car door during said tinder date.
matthew's brows raise, looking at the tan complexion of his friend. "what's up?"
"looks like there's some trouble in paradise, huh?" sean then shifts his eyes out of the room, down into the even more crowded foyer and kitchen. matthew's eyes can't help but follow, landing upon his roommate, and another teammate of his, lucas.
but he's not alone—you're with him. matthew swallows roughly, eyes narrowing at the sight of you. he watches as lucas grabs your face, stroking the highest part of your cheek with his calloused thumb. there's a few rushed words exchanged between you, ones that matthew has no chance of hearing over the bustling party.
sean continues, rubbing his hand over his stubble. "what do you think they're fighting about?"
matthew watches as you dodge his friends kiss, your expression full of exhaustion and annoyance. he looks away from you, eyes finding sean's deep chocolate ones "probably something lucas started."
sean snorts. "probably—dude doesn't know what he's got."
matthew hums dismissively, taking an aggressive sip from his beer bottle. the tangy liquid fizzles against his tastebuds, the alcohol already making him feel lighter. he can't help the way his eyes find you again, watching the tail end of whatever argument you'd been in the midst of.
lucas pulls off you, a tiny roll of his eyes. but he wraps his arm around you again, pulling you further into the house and in the direction of the living room.
at the sight of lucas, a few of the guys get distracted, attention pulled from gabe and his ridiculous performance—all of them hollering in the blondes direction. the smile comes easy, and he releases you in favour of greeting everyone, bringing them into a side hug before slapping the muscle on their back.
you do your best to plaster on a smile as a couple of the guys girlfriends greet you warmly—madison, you closest WAG friend squeezes your arm from the couch beside you. you briefly wonder if she's seen the tiff you've just had with lucas.
but no, you can't think like that, if you do it'll just make you more anxious than usual. you gently shake your head, snapping yourself out of your own pity. you stand awkwardly beside the couch while lucas completely disappears into his friends, cheering and laughing as they all talk about their latest win. you blink again, this time to hold back unshed tears.
"hey girl, you wanna sit down?" another one of the wags asks you, her gentle, honey laced voice filtering through the noisy room. "you look a little out of it."
you laugh gently, blinking rapidly. "I don't think there's anywhere to sit." your words stem from truth, and as you glance around the collection of mangled, worn leather couches and stained lazy boys, the space is limited. you desperately wish lucas was a doting boyfriend—pulling you into his lap and pressing a reassuring kiss against the junction of your neck.
"you can sit here." his voice cuts through the air like a knife, sending a usual shiver through your body. you hadn't even realized matthew knies was here—but you should've suspected it when you didn't hear his usual rerun of new girl in his and lucas' shared apartment.
your eyes flicker to his, and then towards the sliver of space between him and sean. the couch is most definitely sticky, and the foam is practically spilling out the cushion—the sight has you squirming. parties have never been your thing, and you've never been one to be overly social—much preferring the silence and comfortability of your own space. if you were to go out on your own terms, you'd often opt for local bars or eateries, which usually provide a more relaxed and tone downed party atmosphere.
but lucas likes frats—so here you are. your eyes find matthew's again, and immediately you're feeling a familiar pull in your chest—one that always seems to tug in the presence of your boyfriends best friend. it's not that you hated matthew knies...it's just....he is one of your least favourite people to be around.
you're not sure when it started, but the combination of his cocky attitude and the way he seemed to always be pushing your buttons with that stupid smirk on his face, just has your blood boiling.
and you really try your best to ignore him, but as soon as his pestering starts, you just can't help but bite back.
he's looking at you with that slinky pull to his plump lips, likes he's expecting you to decline his offer and just turn tail and leave—which you are desperately trying not to do.
matthew's one eyebrow raises, almost like a challenge. "you scared or somethin', y/l/n?" he takes a slow sip of his beer, adam's apple bobbing roughly under his clean shaven throat. he licks his lips, catching the lingering liquid. "I dont bite."
the use of your last name—how it so easily slips through his lips like a song—has you biting down, your teeth practically cracking under the intense pressure. all your earlier irritation has been quickly redirected to matthew, and you eye him pointedly. "doubtful."
his smirk widens.
you shoot a glance towards lucas, but to your disappointment he still hasn't realized you're standing alone—sitting comfortably between teammates and sipping from a mysterious seltzer can. slowly, you look back towards matthew, who's grin has yet to falter.
he pats the space between himself and sean, two slaps against the leather as he wordlessly invites you over.
you can't help the way your eyes roll.
sean watches the entire ordeal like a damn soap-opera, eyes darting between you and his friend next to him—hiding his amused smile behind the neck of his beer bottle.
with a gentle sigh, you make your way towards them, wordlessly taking a seat between the two athletes with an awkward cough. immediately you're warm, the combination of the crowded house and being squished between two large men sending you into a heat flash.
although, matthew may be more of a boy than a man, but you digress.
"want a drink?" he asks you—the smirk evident simply in his tone. your eyes dart to the side, finding his flushed face.
"of what?" you question sharply.
his brows raise in amusement. "anything you want." matthew laughs once, a breathy sound that has you squinting. "there's lots of options—this is a party, y/l/n."
there's that nickname again—the condescending tone dripping from his tongue as he calls you by your last name. you grit your teeth, "that's not my name."
"I mean...It is." his eyes flicker with something you don't recognize, lip twitching as his smile widens. "you're always so wound up."
you stiffen, and you can hear sean hiss quietly beside you. matthew's looking as smug as ever, fiddling with the damp, shredded label of his drink. you let out a scoff, "no i'm not—you're just annoying."
"sure." he nods condescendingly just as he lifts the neck of his bottle back towards his mouth, plump lips expertly caressing the opening and tipping the liquid into his mouth.
you watch him move—your bubbling annoyance clear. you watch behind the rim of the bottle as his smirk returns, and that has you blinking, quickly averting your gaze. "don't you have other people to bother?"
you hear his beer hit the table as he places it down, clearly done with it. "am I bothering you?" matthew chooses to avoid your question, like usual, which has you rolling your eyes for the umpteenth time.
"I personally find this really entertaining." sean interrupts, leaning closer towards you. a half smile takes over his dark complexion, and he gets further into your space, wide, amused eyes dancing between his teammate and you. "you guys fight like you're a married couple."
you head snaps his his direction so fast you neck muscles tighten up. "what does that mean?"
matthew snickers, which immediately has you attention again. "seriously, have a drink or something — you fucking need one."
"excuse me?" your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you're too far gone to care. you're really not in the mood to deal with your boyfriends best friends cocky personality, or his infuriating mannerisms and ridiculous smirk. "literally what makes you think you can say things like that to me? god, what's crawled up your ass."
"alright, alright," he interrupts, one of his large hands raised in a mock surrender. "just chill out, I'm not trying to ruin your night."
without knowing what else to say in that moment, you look away—eyes pinched and lips held together tightly. you grab sean's half full can of cherry liquor—right out of his loose grip—and down the rest of it.
he makes a noise of protest, but you don't even care. the alcohol already has you feeling better, the affects settling deep in your belly and further warming your exposed skin—you've always been a light weight. you cringe at the flavour, letting the last sip linger on your tastebuds before fully swallowing.
"fuckin jesus, y/n." sean grumbles like he's annoyed, but his eyes tell a different story. "that rilled up huh?"
you turn your back towards matthew, facing sean and his girlfriend completely. the latter is talking intently with another one of the girls—completely oblivious to the tension brewing next her.
matthew's eyes linger on your exposed back, your cream silky top dipping low enough to expose the base of your spine. he tongues his cheek to mask the grin, slowly trailing his eyes back upwards. "you're such a baby." he says knowingly, leaning in close enough that his words tickle your neck. "turnin' your back to me."
without looking at him, you huff. "you're so insufferable." you break composure, turning back in his direction. your irritated expression is still lingering, looking at matthew like you're trying to incinerate him with your eyes. "you suddenly care about me or something?"
"you wish." his response is quick—teasing.
sean snorts, clearly enjoying this much more than you could ever.
"do you seriously think you have that much of an impact on my life?"
"I know I do." matthew laughs. "you're really cranky today."
"and you need to shut the fuck up-"
"alright, you two." sean speaks again, looking almost scared as he eyes the both of you curiously. "better stop before people start getting the wrong idea."
you don't even have the brain capacity to think about what he could mean with that insinuation. you shoot off the couch, "i'm done here anyway." you mumble hastily, immediately making your way across the small living room. you weave your way through the few people standing in the middle of the space, lingering and chatting too enthusiastically for your liking.
the other couch comes into view quickly, and you spot lucas just as fast. your arms are crossed as you walk up to your boyfriend, lips already pulling in a irritated pout. the silk of your top suddenly feels too cold—too exposing—and you just want to go.
"lucas." you get his attention, "I'm going home."
his attention is pulled away from his teammates, eyes flickering over your figure once. "you okay?"
"ask your roommate." you spit. "he's fucking infuriating."
lucas grin, rolling his eyes. "you are so dramatic, babe. just come sit with me."
a couple of his teammates snicker at his words, attempting to cover their amused smirks behind their drinks—but you catch them.
"i'm not dramatic." you start, exasperated. "and no, I'm going home."
he runs a hand over his face. "kay, i'll see you later."
"whatever." you grumble, turning away from your boyfriend. you make your way back through the sticky frat house, narrowly missing the beer spilling over solo cups as drunk university students slosh around, smashing drinks together in cheers.
the early spring chill sends you into a shivering state almost instantly—the night cold stinging your skin harshly. it's only when the noise and echoing bass fade into a dull hum that you start to cry, sluggishly walking down the sidewalk as you continue the short walk to your apartment complex.
thoughts of matthew's snarky remarks and stupid smirk are plaguing your mind—sending you into a flurry of anger and vexation. replaying the interaction in your head has you scoffing out loud, muttering irritatedly like a clinically insane person.
and then there's lucas and his rude dismissal of you—his girlfriend for fucks sake. that and the way his teammates snickered at the brief moment of bickering between you just has you spiraling even deeper.
you close your apartment door louder than you intended, kicking off your shoes quickly.
your roommate, cora, looks up from her spot on the kitchen barstool, slowly slurping her mouthful of cheap ramen noodles with her brows raised in concern. "how was the party?"
all you can muster is a growl, opening to cupboard above the sink in search of a glass. your grab the first one you see, immediately filling it up with absurd flavoured tap water.
she snorts into her bowl, shoving some more noodles into her mouth. "what happened?" she questions between her chews.
you finish the water with a loud gulp, placing the empty glassware on the counter. "matthew happened."
his name alone makes cora roll her eyes, but there's a tiny grin that she can't even hide. your roommate is well used to the hostility that lingers between you and your down the hall neighbour. "just ignore him."
it's something that's been said by cora hundreds of times—it seems that anytime you're with lucas, you're coming back with a scowl and a new story about his roommate instead. "you know he only messes with you because you give him a good reaction."
you huff, stealing the fork out of cora's bowl and serving yourself a bite of her beef favoured noodles. they're not long made, and the heat slightly burns your tongue. you hiss through your teeth, "he's hard to ignore when he's up my ass whispering in my ear about how i'm 'such a baby'" you attempt at lowering you voice to mimick the athletes, and that has her grinning, taking back her fork for another bite.
"you two are so weird." she slurps a noddle noisily, "like there's some weird sexual tension or something."
"cora!" you huff, eyes comically wide as you look at her with nothing short of perplexity.
"what?" she laughs, all but innocent. "he's hot!"
"I have a boyfriend." snatching the utensil again, you twirl the prongs through the lingering food. your face begins to heat up, something that feels like embarrassment crawling at your chest. you clear your throat, praying that cora doesn't catch your burning cheeks as you chew some more food. "besides, even If I was single i'd never date someone so...arrogant."
"whatever you say." cora teases further, tucking herself further under her extra large hoodie. you know your friend is only playing around, and there's no malicious intent with her digs—so you let it slide, even though the mere thought of dating matthew knies has your stomach dropping, making you feel nothing less than nauseous.
"I need to take these jeans off before I explode." you whine, quickly changing the subject. you already start unbuttoning the denim as you make your way down the hall, rounding into your warmly lit bedroom in search of your favourite pyjamas.
you soon swap your party, beer smelling attire for an oversized, stained hoodie and sleep shorts—throwing your hair back and popping your glasses on. already, you're feeling much more relaxed than when you first got home. "wanna watch an episode of stranger things?" you call through the apartment, already grabbing your throw blanket.
"yeah!" cora calls back, "can you bring me the niall horan blanket from your room?"
you snort a laugh, doubling back to your bed and pulling the fuzzy, 2011 one direction throw into your arms. it's been a staple piece ever since you met cora in your freshman dorm, and you learned your new roommate from wisconsin was just as obsessed with the former boyband as you are.
you make your way back into the living area of the small student apartment, your slippers slapping the floor obnoxiously as you do. "can you grab me a coke?" you ask cora as you pass the kitchen nook.
two knocks interrupt you, the sound echoing through the wooden door that separates your apartment from the hall. you jump slightly, the unexpecting thumping catching you off guard and making your heart leap.
cora eyes the clock—almost 1 a.m. her gaze skips back to you, frozen in place with the fridge wide open. "are you expecting anyone?"
"no." you swallow, making you way to the door. "are you?"
she almost snorts. "definitely not."
skeptical, but curious, you grasp the chipping bronze handle. you're hoping it's lucas—lucas who has hopefully come to his senses and has left the party in favour of giving you an apology. with a gentle shrug, you turn the handle and pull the door open in one swift motion.
matthew is there, leaning against the door frame in all his smug, infuriating glory. at the sight of you opening the door, a small smirk grows on his face, and in that moment you think the universe must be against you—because what the actual fuck.
"hey." he says simply, his stupid smirk growing impossibly wide. "glad to see you're not dead in a ditch." your brows begin to furrow, and he continues — much to your dismay. "saw you leave the party all stompy."
you're almost speechless, at a loss for words as you blink up at him. "it's almost 1."
"very good." he snickers, like he's congratulating you for knowing the time. you want to punch him in the mouth and get rid of that insufferable grin.
"can I like, help you or something?" you question roughly, crossing your arms over your hoodie. it's a bit awkward considering the mountain of blankets in your arms, but you manage. "i'm kind of busy."
matthew peers behind you, looking into your very much empty apartment. he sees cora, still lingering in the kitchen—watching the exchange like it's a SNL skit with a tiny, amused smile on her face.
he meets your hard eyes one again. "I don't think you are, actually." he licks his bottom lip slowly, an action that seems instinctual. "are you going to be neighborly and invite me in? or just keep standing and staring."
a scoff leaves your mouth, but before you can protest, cora speaks up, her cheery voice making your heart drop. "come on in, matthew—don't mind the mess." she kicks some loose shoes out of the way, subtly pushing you to the side as well.
matthew smirks at you again, stepping into the small foyer of your apartment. you tear your gaze away from the tall boy, sending your roommate a slightly panicked look.
she just shrugs, looking back at matthew quickly. "i'll let you two chat—i've gotta get the pillows..and...stuff, from my room."
pillows and stuff? her excuse is just sad, but before you can stop her, cora is turning on her heels, practically skipping down the hall and into her messy bedroom.
now alone, you look back at your boyfriend's friend with raised brows. "so? what is it?"
something flickers across his face, and before you can register it, he sighs. "listen, i've come to say i'm sorry for tonight. I was an asshole."
"an asshole is one way of putting it." you scoff, arms crossing tighter. you pause, eyeing his seemingly sincere expression. with a sigh, you falter slightly, "but thanks."
his smirk is back. "welcome." the formality is mumbled through his plump lips, and you swallow roughly at the lazy grin.
"anything else?" you hum pointedly.
matthew shakes his head. "nope." he reaches behind his broad back, grabbing the doorknob and turning it. "i'll be seeing you around i'm sure."
you watch as he opens the door, the fluorescent lights of the hallway illuminating your dim apartment. you kiss your teeth, a reluctant nod following suit. "oh, i'm sure."
he snickers. "goodnight, y/l/n."
your face falls—a bubble of irritation quickly rising once again. you don't say anything, watching through the corner of your eyes as matthew walks down the hall to his and lucas' shared apartment.
he shoves the key in the lock, and just before he walks inside, matthew shoots you one more stupid smirk that sends your head reeling.
you click your apartment door shut, and as soon as it does, your forehead hits the flat surface, an angry groan leaving your chest.
STAGE 1: Confusion
"can I get three tequila sunrises, please?"
the burly bartender behind the counter sends you a curt nod, turning on his heels as he grabs three empty glasses to begin making your drinks.
the bar is crowded, more crowded than your usual visits, but it is a saturday night and this is the closest place to drink from campus—so it’s business doesn’t come as a shock. you look around the room, eyeing the sea of students and young adults alike—all smiling and dancing together as they down shots and sip their respective drinks.
your eyes find your small table, seeing cora chat happily with your mutual friend, rachel. you'd all been in a deep conversation about your psychology midterm results when you'd slurped up the last bit of your drink—cora already fiddling with the ice cubes at the bottom of her glass.
with a pout from rachel and a plea from your roommate, you slid off the high stool and begin sneaking your way through the bar. you sigh gently, turning your attention back to the busy bar, watching as the bartender works around his co-workers in their hectic environment.
"hey." his voice has you stiffening. slowly, your gaze flickers to your right and that's where you see matthew, leaning against the sticky bar top in his usual stupid way.
you frown, glancing over your opposite shoulder to see if he's talking to somebody that's not you—maybe a teammate or your boyfriend who has magically decided to show up tonight.
matthew snickers. "yeah. i'm talking to you."
you look back at him sharply. "why?"
he shrugs, his index finger tracing one of the raised splits on the wooden bar top. "just saying hi to a friend."
"a friend?" you question, one breathy laugh passing through your stained lips. your gaze turns pointed, looking at matthew with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "we're not friends."
"no?" he hums lightly.
you shake your head once, firmly. "I think you're forgetting how you know me."
"we live in the same apartment complex." his smile has returned at full strength, sending your chest contorting in a way that makes you angry. he's trying to rile you up, you know that by now, and even if you didn't, that grin on his stupid chiseled face gives him away—he's up to no good.
you make a face of faux innocent, mouth falling open to form a small, perfected 'o'. "oh, so that's how you know me?" your face falls, and you grab your wallet off the bar top. your hands are slightly shaky, and definitely clammy due to the adrenaline and irritation running through your veins—it's all so infuriating.
you turn to leave, but matthew's hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you. your head snaps back so fast that for a moment your vision blurs—and you have to blink quickly to clear it.
"c'mon, y/l/n, i'm trying to play nice." his grin falters slightly, looking down at you with a gentle expression.
it makes you even angrier. "well, I don't want you to play nice."
matthew squints playfully, leaning further down into your space. "kinky."
your eyes widen to unfathomable size, and your skin flushes all over. it's exactly the reaction matthew wanted to pull from you, and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he watches your face further contort into an expression of disbelief and frustration.
you take a few shaky, shallow breathes, trying your best to not yank your hand away and high tail out of the bar completely. "I have a boyfriend." despite the firm town of your voice, your words are quiet, only for the two of you to hear.
matthew's brows shoot up. "okay, I don't know how stupid you think I am, but I know you have a boyfriend—I live with him. i'm just being a dick."
you can't help the way your eyes roll. no shit. it's like matthew finally realizes the gentle grip he's still got around your wrist, and he drops your arm rather quickly upon realization. matthew brings his hand back to his side, fingers flexing as he tries to shake off the unknowing sensation. he clears his throat, eyes not leaving yours as he continues. "speaking of, where is lucas? thought you'd be up his ass tonight."
you hesitantly tuck your wallet under your arm, holding it to your side. after all, you're still waiting for drinks, and you're not going to let matthew drive you out of the bar before you can deliver them. "like you said," you huff, "you live with him, so you should've noticed he was home tonight."
matthew's lips drop in a small frown at your words, because no, he doesn't remember seeing lucas after they passed each other on the way to the bathroom that morning.
the tattooed arm of the bartender comes back into your peripheral vision, and he slides theee glasses in your direction. "here's your drinks."
you quickly menover your black wallet back into your hands, pulling out a $20 bill and passing it to the rather attractive tender. "thanks." he nods, tucking the money into his waist apron before turning away, attending to one of the many awaiting customers.
you look back towards the athlete at your side, who still hasn't taken his gaze off of you, and send him a sarcastic smirk. "wish I could say it was nice seeing you matthew, but i've never been a liar." you grab two of the glasses, frowning gently as you realize you can't quite grip the third. you place them down, attempting another time.
"oh wow good one, y/l/n." matthew laughs breathily, watching as you continue to struggle with three, condensation coated glasses. "are you going to ask for help now?"
you snort, "i'd rather eat glass than ask for your help."
you look like a lost puppy—one of the glasses pressed between your arm and boob, and the other one clutched awkwardly in your hand. your fingers barley reach around it, and it looks like a disaster waiting to happen.
"jesus christ, just—" matthew mumbles, reaching towards you and taking both glasses from you. and because he's annoying and has the hands of a giant, he scoops the third glass off the bar, holding the three together.
he looks at you triumphantly, which makes you want to kick him. "must you be so proud?"
"I must." he chimes. matthew finally looks away from you, which has you letting out a breath you hadn't realized you've been harbouring. his eyes filter through the crowd, brows pinched together. "where's your table?"
on cue, cora's distinctive laughter fills the room. "never mind I can hear your roommate." he begins walking in the direction of the table, maneuvering through the room like he owns it—which induces an annoyed eye roll from you. watching the crowd practically part as they see him coming through is even more infuriating.
you follow behind him, trying your best to keep up with his long strides. "her mouth is almost as loud as yours!" you smile with faux enjoyment, looking up at his side.
you merely miss getting bumped by some hammered frat guy, too busy yelling and terribly singing along to the shitty (but addictive) pop music. you miss the glare matthew sends the strangers way before he looks down at you, a smirk on his face. "seems like a match made in heaven then."
"or hell." you hum.
he laughs tauntingly. "don't be jealous."
"why would I be jealous?"
"took you long enough!" cora shouts, teetering on hammered—she's been pregaming since 5.
you watch rachel's eyes trail to your side, and immediately she's lighting up. "oh and you've brought a friend."
"not a friend—just a nuisance."
matthew laughs, too loudly for your liking, brushing past you to step onto the platform where your friends sit. "think that's the nicest thing you've said about me, y/l/n."
if your eyes roll one more time tonight they're surely to get stuck. "don't you have something else to do, knies?"
cora takes the glass from matthew's large hand, batting her lashes up at him like a damn cartoon character. she immediately takes the straw into her mouth, chewing on the plastic. "thank you matthew."
he turns back to you with a smug expression. "see, y/l/n, that's how you're supposed to respond when someone does something nice for you."
"oh well— I can't wait for the day you do something nice for me!" you clap your hands together like an exaggerated cheer, stepping up the the platform as well. you almost bump into his chest, underestimating just how close matthew was.
he just smirks, eyes slowly flickering down your body.
you swallow. "okay, you can go now."
"anything else?" matthew questions, brows raised expectantly.
"what?" you breathe through your teeth.
his smirk grows. "i'm waiting for a thank you."
you exhale through your nose, eyes briefly flickering closed for a passing moment. when they re-open, matthew doesn't falter, if anything he looks even more cheerful. "thanks." you grit out.
"you're so welcome." he shoots you a quick wink, waving goodbye to your friends before he steps off the platform, making his way back to whichever group of loud cronies he'd been with before he started pestering you.
"you two are so ridiculous." rachel laughs into her glass before taking a hearty sip—her eyes not once leaving you.
you whine, taking your original seat next to cora. "i'm one more interaction away from transferring schools."
cora groans loudly. "oh my god."
the conversation thankfully shifts after your dramatic remark, and the rest of the night seemingly goes by in a flash. you actually end up dancing for most of the evening, sandwiched between cora and rachel as you all scream song lyrics and laugh with one another. it's nice and refreshing—thankfully taking your mind of him.
you end up feeling more tired than you expected soon after, the combination of drinking, dancing and being at school since 10 that morning is taking its toll on you. "i'm gunna head out." you tell cora, leaning in close so she can hear you over the bassy one direction throwback.
"what?" she pouts, her hazy eyes wide. "I don't want you to go!"
you laugh gently, accepting the hug as she throws herself at you—stumbling over her own two feet in the process. "i'm tired." you admit. "do you and rachel wanna come with me?"
"no! the night is still young." cora looks at you like you're crazy for even suggesting that.
"okay party animals." you bid another goodbye to both of your friends, ordering and uber for yourself before stepping outside. you're hoping the chilled air will sober you up a little bit—because the last thing you need is to fall asleep in an uber, or worse, get sick.
you sigh gently, swaying on your feet as you stand outside the bustling bar. strangers and traffic are steady, providing a surprisingly comforting atmosphere.
the door creaks open behind you, the inside chaos growing louder for a split second until the threshold is closed once more. instinctively, you glance over your shoulder, and the sight has you groaning. the universe must be praying on your downfall, because there he is. "seriously? are you stalking me or something?"
matthew's brows raise, his hands shoved in his jean pockets as he walks towards you. "that doesn't even make sense—you've already seen me tonight…”
his words have you scoffing, and you turn your head away from him as you grumble frustratedly. "fucking...whatever."
he doesn't respond immediately, and the night life is the only sounds heard. ever impatiently, you check the uber app again, praying your ride is almost here—but they're still 5 minutes out.
"where are your friends?" matthew's voice interrupts your peace.
"why?" you question with hesitance, your glare pointed as you look towards him.
he laughs briefly, although it sounds more like a scoff. "god, you're so tightly wound! i'm just trying to make conversation."
you're taken aback for a moment, blinking quickly as you take in his words. with a quiet, irritated sigh, you look away from him once again. "you really don't need to."
you peer down the road, praying you see the uber that somehow has magically sped through time. matthew scoffs again. "why don't you like me?"
"besides the obvious?" you question condescendingly, eyes not leaving the road in front of you.
"sure, besides the obvious."
you spin on your heels, which in hindsight isn't the smartest decision because your stumbling dangerously. matthew's eyes widen in concern for a moment, but you catch yourself before he has the chance to reach out. you eye his flexing hands with anger, a grumble leaving your stained lips. "you're just, ugh! insufferable."
his brows raise. "i'm insufferable?"
you nod. "yes."
"really?"
"yes, matthew! god this, what you're doing right now is quite literally the definition of insufferable. like, if you looked up the definition a video of this interaction would play." you breathe roughly, gesturing between the two of you like a crazy person. at some point during your rant, you'd stepped closer to him—close enough that you have to tilt your head back to properly look at him.
matthew's lips slowly contorts into a smirk, one that sends your blood boiling. "you're such a nerd ."
you laugh in disbelief. "que the insults!"
his eyes change then, his smirk dissolving as a more serious and intense expression takes over his face. matthew licks onto his bottom lip, gaze pointed. "it's wasn't an insult."
your breath hitches, catching in your throat as you watch him…watch you. before you can say anything—do anything—the sound of tires screeching to the curb has you pulling away.
the passenger window rolls down, and a middle aged man come into sight. "uber for y/n?"
"yeah, that's me." you say quickly, walking away from matthew as fast as your feet allow you, and practically jumping into the running car, as soon as the seatbelt is clicked into place, the uber is moving, sending you falling back against the seat.
you watch through the window as matthew looks at the retreating car—not talking his eyes off the vehicle until you're nothing but a set of break lights in the distance. you swallow roughly, blinking away the flurry of emotions pulling and pushing at your chest.
STAGE 2: Shifting
almost a week has passed since your...interesting? annoying? pointless? conversation with matthew outside the bar, and you thankfully haven't seen him since.
which is surprising considering you've been at his apartment almost every night with lucas. as much as you hate to admit it, and as much as it makes you angry, you were curious about his whereabouts. anytime you'd been cuddling with lucas on the couch, watching some shitty show he liked—your mind would wander, and anytime there'd be any noise in the hall, you'd wonder if it was him.
where was he? what's was he doing? is he avoiding you? but no, because matthew loves pissing you off too much to just avoid you...right?
you curse yourself everytime matthew pops into your mind, quickly distracting yourself with whatever task you could get your hands on. like right now, ruffling through the snack display on top of the counter at work.
the arena is extra cold today, and as your arms touch the metal basket containing the various chips and crackers, you shiver—not even the team branded zip up around your torso is helping.
"y/n," the floor manager, jason pops into the booth. "we need some more pineapple. can you get some from the players kitchen please? just the frozen stuff for smoothies." his voice is hopeful, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
you sigh gently, kissing your teeth as you turn to look at him. "sure."
he smiles in your direction, but just before he leaves, jason doubles back. "oh! and a few protein bars, i'm starving."
"sure." you nod curtly.
"and while you're there, grab me a green juice?" this time at least jason manages to look somewhat guilty, his grin almost doubtful.
you almost find it amusing, and you raise your brows as so. "why not."
jason cheers. "you're the best."
with that you make your way out of the room, not fully shutting the door behind yourself as you know your arms will be too full to use a handle when you come back. the walk to the players section of the facility isn't a long one, and it's only a few minutes until you're entering the 'smoothie room' — as you like to call it.
it's always in pristine condition, and you almost feel guilty for simply breathing in there. quickly, you grab everything you need from the room, including the bag you'd filled with frozen pineapple and some nasty smelling green drink for jason.
with your arms full, you leave the room and begin making your way back to the snack bar. you round the corner into the most open part of the corridor, expect this time it's not empty, and around 10 of the guys have started kicking the ball around—a pre-game warmup that a lot of them liked to participate in.
you plan to just sneak through, keep your head down and try to not too badly interrupt the ritual—for lack of a better word. timidly, you begin making your way towards the rowdy group, eyes focused as their voices get closer and closer.
the sound of the soccer ball smacking against the wall has you freezing, and before you know it the inflated ball is soaring towards you. you don’t have a chance to react, and it hits you right in the chest, sending everything you'd been previously holding scattering to the floor.
embarrassed and irritated, you sigh, crouching down as you begin to attempt and salvage the mess at your feet. an all too familiar pair of running shoes appear in your vision, coming to a squeaky stop as they approach. "damn, you alright?"
you look up, squinting from the glow of the fluorescent lights lining the corridors. like you thought, it's matthew. his expression almost resembles one of concern, which has you pulling a disgruntled face.
he's slightly breathless, running around and kicking a soccer ball at you must be the cause. he's alive, you think reluctantly.
you look away from him, grabbing the two bottles of green juice and tucking them under your arm. thankfully, neither plastic bottle cracked when they hit the tile.
he sighs roughly, and you can practically hear the roll of his eyes. matthew slowly bends down as well, grabbing the astray protein bars from the ground. "good talk." he mutters condescendingly.
your eyes dart up, a scoff tumbling past your lips. the audacity of matthew to be annoyed with you is just beyond comprehension. "sorry i'm not in the mood for small talk with you matthew after you just kicked the ball at my chest—i'm going to have to throw this fruit out now, thanks."
the pineapple is a wet, spilled mess across the floor. the bag had split when it dropped, and the ball has smooshed the fruit as it fell with it. you're not even sure what to do about the mess—looking at it hopelessly.
"I didn't kick anything at you, but sure it's my fault." he grumbles, looking at you once again.
"really? then who did?" you tone is dripping with doubt, looking at matthew with nothing but exasperation.
"ask your perfect little boyfriend." matthew immediately looks like he regrets his words, eyes widening momentarily before his gaze darts away from your face.
"my perfect little boyfriend who's also your friend?" you scoff. "god, touch some grass matthew." you know it's a terrible rebuke, and the way matthew smirks in disbelief following your insult has you feeling even more irritated with your choice of comeback.
you don't dwell on it much longer as the sound of somebody else approaching you both captures your attention. you look up just as lucas joins you, standing behind matthew with a tiny grin. "hey! babe you okay?"
you stand up, clutching the drinks to your chest. "fine." you nod.
lucas smiles again, moving to wrap you in a hug. it’s awkward, with your arms pushed against your chest and the green juice pressing into your boob uncomfortably. he kisses your head quickly. "sorry, we were all just messing around and I didn't see you."
your face falls, and you pull back from your boyfriend. "it was you?"
"yeah." he repeats, looking anything but guilty. "said I was sorry."
you unwrap yourself from his hug, stepping back. the whole conversation with your boyfriend has rubbed you the wrong way, and even if he didn't mean to kick you with the ball, his apology wasn't enough of a sincere gesture as you would expect from someone who supposedly loves you.
"I gotta get back." you say quietly, eyes downcast as you further back away from your boyfriend. instinctively, your eyes flicker towards matthew's tall stature. you both hold eye contact for a moment, unknown words lingering in the air between you.
you blink, picking up pace as you walk through the hall.
jason beams as he spots the pile of protein bars in your hands, taking two along with his green juice before skipping out the room. trying to shake off the weird feeling from the interaction with matthew in the corridor, you get back to work, organizing the fridge in preparation for tonight's game—you know how much the minnesota students love their alanis, and you need to make sure that fridge is fully stalked.
there's a good 5 minutes of silence, nothing but you, your thoughts and the loading of the fridge—until there's a knock at the open door.
you look over you shoulder, and there matthew is again. you don't know what to say because you don't know why he's here or what he wants. is he here to gloat? to apologize? to taunt?
matthew takes your silence as an invitation, stepping into the snack booth with a neutral expression. he's still dressed in his sports clothes—a team branded sweatshirt with matching shorts overtop compression pants, completed with his backward basball cap. it oddly suits him, and your stomach drops at the realization of what you've just done.
you kinda sorta checked him out.
"here." matthew interrupts your thoughts, clearly unaware of your wandering eyes and the inner turmoil happening in your brain. he walks further into the room, and that's when you see it—a bag of pineapple clutched in his hand.
in your rush to leave the corridor, you'd completely forgotten to run back and get more fruit.
"where do you want me to put it?" he questions.
"uh," you hum lightly, eyes moving around the room for some available space. it's kind of a mess in here, and you really need to get your shit together before you open. "just beside the coffee machine for now."
matthew does what you ask, putting the frozen ziploc beside the kureig on the side counter. he doesn't say anything else, and walks out the room without so much a second glance in your direction.
you bite your inner lip, knawing the soft skin as you blink furiously— trying to collect your whirlwind of thoughts. above all, you're angry. angry that you were hit with a ball, angry that matthew was right about who kicked it, angry that lucas gave you a shit apology, and that matthew didn't even attempt to annoy you when he'd brought you the pineapple.
—
lucas presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, pulling you into his chest on the outskirts of the lit up courtyard. around you is busy, lingering students and staff members alike chat and walk through the space with an upbeat pace.
every year since you've been attending the university of minnesota, the hockey team and staff members would host a barbecue and movie night in the schools courtyard. it was always an amazing turnout, and for only $5 dollars to get in and get something to eat and watch a throwback film (this year being freaky friday), it was quite the rage. plus, the money went to a fundraiser that helped public schools in the area have breakfast. so it’s a win win.
so not only do you go with the intent of supporting the youth of neighbouring schools, but your boyfriend is one of the co-organizers of the event. so of course you show your face.
which brings you back to the current moment, pouting up at lucas with the best puppy-dog eyes you can manage. lucas sighs gently, running his hands over your jean jacket covered arms. "don't give me that look."
you don't let up, but your lips begin to form into a grin. "what look?"
"the look you're doing right now." he laughs once, squeezing your biceps tightly. "you know I have to be all over the place, babe. I can't just stand with you."
your exaggerated, playful pout quickly changes into a real frown—even though you don't want to show that emotion. because lucas is one of the co-organizers of the event, he's got lots of duties to attend to while the event is happening. so although you're technically here to spend time with your boyfriend, you'll barley get to see him.
plus, cora is sick and had no choice but to stay back at the apartment and watch re-runs of friends, and rachel wouldn't be able to come until the movie starts—coinciding with when her shift at work ends.
"I know but..." you trial off, taking your bottom lip into your mouth anxiously. you've never been a huge fan of crowds—especially when it's tightly gathered in a confined space—and the idea of having to be alone right now is rather daunting. "can't I just help you? like just go with you?"
lucas sighs again, eyes flickering out to the crowd around you. the smell of cheap burgers and hotdogs are already filtering through the air, providing the most perfect early spring atmosphere for the evening. he meets your eyes once more, "it just won't work like that. hey, you'll be okay."
he kisses your cheek, doing his best to reassure you, but you still feel down. "right, okay."
"get yourself a drink and just chill—i'll find you when I can, okay?"
you send him a closed mouth smile, breathing through your nose in a gentle exhale. "okay."
with that he turns away, quickly moving through the lingering crowd as he makes his way into the courtyard. you huff lightly, looking around the sea of people to see if you recognize anyone—literally anyone you can stick with until rachel gets there. but nobody is there.
you eventually follow the crowd, entering the lit-up courtyard. it's decorated in various streamers and balloons representing school colours, along with a spread of beanbags and camping chairs set up for the movie. it looks really good, and even though it's not the warmest temperature due to the night sky, the collection of bodies and decor have the place feeling cozy.
you spot a long table through students, full of what seems to be drinks—various waters, juice and sodas lining the gray fold away surface. you sneak your way through, eyeing the options before inevitably deciding on water. caffeine will just make you anxious, and your favourite juice flavour wasn't an option.
in your peripheral vision, you see a member of the hockey team standing on the other side the table—presumably keeping track of beverages and taking payments. without properly looking up you begin shuffling through your clutch, "how much for the water?"
"it's free."
the all too familiar and cocky voice of matthew knies has you freezing. slowly, your eyes creep upwards, only to be met with the light eyes of his. he'd been the hockey player in your peripheral, and you curse yourself for not noticing sooner.
his brows raise, anticipating a snarky remark. but much to his dismay you turn away, walking back through the crowd and away from him.
he turns to mitchell, one of his teammates, patting his shoulder quickly. "mind watching the table for a sec—gotta do something." matthew doesn't even wait for a response before he's following you, easily making his way between the bodies crowded around.
matthew catches sight of you off to the side, seemingly unaware that he’s hot on your trail. he approaches you swiftly, getting your attention as he speaks. "you're like really bad at the whole socialization thing."
your eyes widen briefly, watching as he casually leans against the nearest table.
"maybe I just don't want to socialize with you." you retort, eyeing him pointedly before taking a slow sip from your water bottle.
matthew smirks. "that's mean."
"don't care." you answer, looking back out into the yard.
a beat passes. "you come alone?" matthew questions, seemingly curious.
you cross your arms. "sort of."
"sort of?" matthew parrots, eyes briefly scanning the crowd. "what's does sort of mean?"
you look at him again. "well I came with lucas, but he's busy so now i'm here...with you." the last part has you pulling a face, scrunching your noise is displeasure.
he snorts. "don't pretend like you don't enjoy my company."
"enjoying isn't quite the word i'd use to describe how I feel about you and your company." you retort lightly, brows pulling tightly.
matthew sucks his bottom lip, containing his grin. "okay, so why aren't you mingling? this is supposed to be a event of socializing."
"I'm not a fan of mingling." you tell him earnestly, clearing your throat in a moment of venerability. "or crowds. besides the fundraiser, I only come for lucas."
"yeah crowds aren't for everyone." matthew's genuine tone has you taken back, and you eye with an almost shock like gaze. "sorry that you're dealing with it alone."
you feel weird—why does the sincerity in his voice make you tingly? "well," you begin. "i'm not alone because you've insisted on coming over here to annoy me."
his smirk is back. "it is my specialty."
you laugh a real laugh, a very brief moment of quiet joy that takes you by surprise. the way his eyes twinkle and smirk widens at the sound of your giggle goes unnoticed by you.
"babe." lucas voice calls out, jogging up to you and matthew. "hey." he greets, pulling you into his side and kissing your temple. "I got a minute, thought i'd see what you were up to." his eyes flicker to matthew's. "see you've found a friend."
matthew's eyes don't leave you, waiting and watching for your reaction to your boyfriends words. you swallow gently, "he was just keeping me company."
"she's not a fan of crowds—thought i'd take a few minutes from work to make sure she's settled." this time when matthew speaks, he's only looking at lucas, and you don't miss the underlying message in his words.
lucas seems oblivious to the hostility underlying his teammates admission, a smile overtaking his face. "anyways, I gotta get back. gunner was telling me about this new club out on main—i'll catch you guys later."
as soon as your boyfriend is out of ear shot, you send matthew a furious glare. "what was that?"
"what was what?" he questions innocently, eyes yet to meet yours again.
"i'm not stupid, matthew, you were trying to..I don't know? like one up lucas by insinuating he's a bad boyfriend for not spending time with me. what the fuck." you spit angrily, gaze tinted with fury.
"I'm not insinuating anything, i'm simply just calling it as I see it." matthew retorts.
you breath a shocked laugh. "what the fuck is wrong with you? you're lucky he didn't catch on to your stupid little coded message." you take a breath, arms tightening over your chest. "he's your friend—why are you trying to ruin that?"
matthew takes a step towards you. "like I said, i'm just calling it as I see it."
"bullshit." you chime. "what's it to you that lucas is busy tonight and he's not able to spend time with me? seriously."
his brows raise, an amused expression on his face. he knows he shouldn’t argue with you, especially when what he wants to say will only further upset you—but he can’t help himself. "he's too busy to spend time with you, yeah? but tell me why we're in the same job position and I haven't left your side since I saw you. so call whatever you want bullshit, but the real bullshit is the guy standing next to his teammate doing absolutely nothing but making you look stupid."
matthew's words have you pulling back, face faltering. you feel emotion clawing at your chest, flushing your skin a rosey pink as the embarrassment and anger about the situation hits you all at once.
his face flashes with remorse, looking down at you with a lingering guilty gaze. his mouth opens slightly, as if to speak—but nothing comes out.
"fuck you." you hiss quietly before turning on your heels and leaving. everything in your body feels like it's on fire, walking through the courtyard with a determination you didn't even realized you had. you can feel matthew's eyes boring into your retreating figure, but you don't dare turn around and look.
he's right—god, he's fucking right. matthew not only calling out your boyfriends shitty behaviour but your obliviousness to the truth about the situation, stings you hard, and you didn't know what else to say or how to react besides the way you did.
you’re even angrier about the fact that even within the little attention matthew had given you tonight, was more than lucas had all day—and the time matthew spent at your side in the bustling courtyard, had your anxiety about the crowds fizzling.
STAGE 3: Denial
the sound of basketball shoes squeaking against the polished wood of a court has always been one of your least favourite things. it's a high pitched, constant sound that has you cringing every time.
you eyes flicker up towards the scoreboard—it's almost half time. it's a relief, and you are almost giddy at the fact that the stupid squeaking while be on a momentary pause.
lucas squeezes your thigh, right over your jeans. you look over at his gently, met with the sight of his curious grin. "what's up babe?"
you shrug, "just watching the timberdogs!"
"it's the timberwolves." he corrects you, eyes twinkling with amusement. you laugh it off, looking back out into the basketball court, eyes following the players as they zip back and forth on the length of the floor.
lucas' dad has always been super into basketball—like more that the average person. he's got a room in his childhood home that's designed to resemble the minnesota timberwolves court, as well as a plethora of jerseys and seasons tickets for every year.
you're not sure why his dad couldn't make it to this game—lucas had told you in the car on the way to the game but you'd been too distracted with everything else going on inside the vehicle to truly pay attention. maybe he was sick? it also could've had something to do with his car breaking down? you don't recall—but regardless, the tickets weren't being used, and they were offered to lucas.
you assumed it was just two—because lucas didn't have any siblings, and you would think it was just his parents attending these games. but no, there's four tickets, because it was always a group of 50 year old men attending together.
so what you hoped was a date night between you quickly turned into a little group outing with your respective roommates. which wouldn't of been such a problem if you weren't still reeling about the last conversation you had with matthew—in the courtyard when he practically called out your entire relationship.
the reminder makes you shift in your chair, angling yourself away from matthew even further. you can hear him sigh to himself, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as his leg bounces up and down with a feverish pace.
it's annoying—more than the shoes on the court. you huff, turning to look at him. "can you stop moving, it's distracting."
he turns to his head. "how is it distracting?"
"i'm trying to watch the game." you retort.
matthew's brows raise incredulously. "you've been watching anything but the game since it started."
"that's not true." it is true, and his call out has you feeling even more infuriated than when you first got to the arena. "I love basketball."
"sure you do." he nods, unconvinced. "instead of watching me then, get back to watching your timberdogs." matthew messes up the name of the NBA team on purpose, teasing you with your own fuck-up.
you huff. "you are so-" the sound of the buzzer echoing loudly throughout the court silences you, whatever insult you'd been conjuring up dying on your tongue. the players begin filling off the court as halftime begins, leaving the crowd to begin freely moving and walking throughout the stands and hallways—replenishing snacks and/or drinks.
on the opposite side of matthew, cora leans forward, looking at you with wide eyes. "hey! i'm going to get another coke. do you want one?" her voice is loud, and even still it's barley heard over the rowdy crowd.
"yes please." you smile. your roommate nods in understanding before getting up, making her way down the row of seats before disappearing out of sight—leaving you with only lucas and matthew.
matthew snickers—mostly to himself—eyes downcast as he fiddles with a loose thread on the knee rip of his jeans. "didn't think you were capable of such manners."
"didn't think you were capable of such big words! woah, i'm impressed." your face falls, words dripping with sarcasm as your annoyance builds higher and higher.
you shoot a look towards lucas, but are only met with the sight of him engaged in his phone—playing fucking candy crush of all things—completely unaware of the tension rising between you and his friend.
"of course your impressed." matthew insists, "everything I do impresses you."
the lingering crowd around you seems even more roudy than before, but your too enthralled with matthew to even look away and glance around. despite the noise, you can hear him fine—too fine, if you're getting specific.
your mouth drops, a tiny puff of disbelieved laughter leaving you. "oh so we're back on the 'y/n is obsessed with matthew train.'"
matthew slowly leans closer to you, his elbow nudging yours on the tiny shared armrest between your seats. his cologne invades your space—something clean like fresh laundry mixed with a spicy cinnamon. it's almost intoxicating, and you're left frozen in place.
"we never got off that train." his words are dripping with a teasing undertone, licking his bottom lip slowly.
a hand nudges matthew shoulder from the row of seats behind yours—gathering his attention. curious, you turn as well, finding a guy seemingly only a few years older than you, looking down at you both with a sheepish grin. "you guys are on the jumbotron."
both your heads whip back around, darting up towards the jumbotron hanging from the exposed ceiling of the court. much to your horror, you and matthew are on the screen—the image framed in a heart filter with 'kiss cam' scribbled across the bottom.
you and matthew both flush—although your heat is definitely more visible, trailing down your neck and appearing in splotches over your exposed chest. "no." you say, making a cut off motion beside your neck with your perfectly manicured nails. "we're not together."
it's no use— the jumbotron can't hear your pleas. matthew shakes his head, joining in on your attempt to get the camera off you both. through the screen you see matthew shift his attention to you, which has you whipping around to look at him. his gaze is almost soft—curious, maybe.
suddenly the crowd gets louder, their unison chants echoing through the building. "kiss kiss kiss!"
the commotion finally has lucas looking away from his phone, and at the sight of what's happening in front of him—his face falls. his brows furrow slightly, gaze switching between the jumbotron and the both of you—staring at one another.
lucas quickly grabs your face, turning you away from his roommate and planting a messy kiss on your lips. your eyes widen slightly, but eventually flutter closed—allowing your boyfriend to move his lips along yours.
matthew swallows roughly, looking away and back towards the screen. the camera has since shifted, showcasing you and lucas in the last lingering moments of the bruising kiss. the crowd cheers, but as soon as you pull away from him, the couple on the jumbotron changes.
lucas expression shifts, lips pulling into a frown as he pulls away from you—his hand quickly retreating back into his lap. "why didn't you nudge me?"
your mouth open and closed quickly, "I-I don't know."
"you don't know?" lucas's tone is quite, but firm, clearly unhappy with the situation that just transpired—even though nothing really happened.
you shrug, and blush once again, but this time is purely from embarrassment about the scolding from your boyfriend. "no, the crowd was looking and I just, I tried to say no but the camera wasn't hearing me. are you seriously mad at me?"
your eyes quickly flicker around the immediate area, making sure nobody is outwardly eavesdropping on your hushed argument.
"should I be?" lucas retorts, pulling your attention back to him. he's looking at you curiously, tinged with something that seems like hope as he waits for your response.
you swallow roughly, once shake of your head following. "no."
lucas exhales shakily, the corner of his mouth sliding into a grin. "okay," he mumbles, throwing his arm over your shoulders. "then i'm not mad."
you allow yourself lean into him easily, but your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and a million unknown feelings, and when you try and even begin to understand them, you're just left more confused.
the crowd begins filtering back into the arena, finding their original seats as the halftime clock begins winding down—the third quarter approaching quickly. cora comes back down the isle, squeezing past outstretched legs as small apologies spew past her lips.
you catch her eye, and her smile grows. "a coke for you." the posh, royal tone she often uses comes to a slow halt, passing you your drink as she eyes your somber expression.
you take the plastic cup. "thanks."
cora gives you a knowing look—one that says your sudden shift in mood will be discussed later in the comfort of your shared apartment. you're not sure why you're dreading that so much.
just as the buzzer sounds throughout the arena again, signaling the resumption of the game, your eyes flicker back towards matthew again. his jaw is tight, and you can see the tendons moving under his skin as he grinds his teeth together. matthew's leg is bouncing again, faster than before—his gaze locked on the court.
it's a longer glance than you intended, but you can't help yourself—something inside you is unwilling to look away.
that dreadful noise of shoes on the polished floor pulls you away, your nose scrunching as you inwardly cringe at the sound.
quickly, matthew's eyes flicker to you—only to be met with the side of your face. he watches gently as your face drops from the previous tight pull, your smooth skin stretching over your perfectly shaped nose.
the puffiness of your lips and the lingering blush on your cheeks, and the way your hair cascades down your back in the most delicate blowout...matthew can't help the way the faintest grin ghosts over his face.
the rest of the game thankfully goes by quickly, and before you know it you're all back in lucas’ car, making the drive back to your apartment located near campus. thankfully cora and lucas fill the lingering silence with pointless conversation—you and matthew only chiming in when necessary.
you don't know what exactly happened, but you know something has shifted. you don't know what it means, or what will happen because of it—and that has you feeling really weird.
as soon as you're back in the comfort of your own apartment, cora smacks her purse down on the counter, gathering your attention with the harsh sound. "what's going on with you?"
your shoulder deflate. "I don't know."
she frowns, walking further into the apartment where you've decided to flop dramatically on the couch. your pants pull uncomfortably around your waist, and the button is digging into your belly pouch like nobodies business.
cora sits down beside you, facing you with curious eyes. "did something happen at the game? it felt like when I went to get the drinks, I missed something."
"I was on the kiss cam." you breathe.
"okay?"
"with matthew."
"oh." she is momentarily taken back, blinking three times quick as she digests your words. cora is very much used to your and matthew's supposed hatred for one another, even though she's never believed it. but the look on your face at the game isn't adding up to just 'being on the kiss cam with matthew'.
cora's brows pull tightly, creating a deep wrinkle between them. "what else happened?"
"I think," you start, voice dropping as if you weren't the only two people in the room. "I think matthew wanted to kiss me."
her eyes widen to an unfathomable size. "what?! how do you know?"
your mouth opens, a sharp breath passing through your lips. "I just....I don't know, there was something about the way he looked at me. am I being crazy?"
instantly cora shakes her head, a gentle frown on her face. "no. the eyes never lie."
your expression droops in a mixture of confusion and fear, eyes beginning to glaze with emotion as you look at cora.
she continues, "and if he tried to kiss you, what would you have done?"
"I don't know." you exhale shakily.
you hear your roommate coo gently, wrapping her arms around you in a much needed hug. your eyes pinch shut, holding onto cora's arm as you continue the embrace.
you are so screwed.
—
how lucas managed to drag you to another loud and obnoxious frat party is honestly beyond you, but there you were—doing your best at mingling and letting loose while lucas was off doing god knows what with his teammates.
rachel thankfully ended up being at the party, and as soon as she ran up to you and made herself known—you didn't leave her side. which in hindsight maybe wasn't the best idea.
you love rachel, truly, but she's never been the best influence—especially when alcohol is involved. one minute your sipping your first seltzer, and the next you're stumbling over, 10 drinks in and screaming chappell roan lyrics like nobodies business.
which means right now you're hammered, sluggishly walking through the busy frat house as you attempt in finding your boyfriend. because drunk you is clingy—and a little horny—and all you want is the warm touch and attention of a man.
unaware, drunk bodies bump into from both sides—too caught up in the party atmosphere to even notice you. it makes the journey a bit harder, but somehow you haven't managed to fall on your ass, so you'll count that as a win.
"y/n?"
the sound of your name has you blinking, looking around the room until you locate the culprit. matthew's hand touches your exposed shoulder, grabbing your attention. his brows pull together, and he bends his knees slightly so he's able to properly look into your eyes. "hey are you with me?"
you blink. "your eyes are like really pretty." a fit of giggles follows your slurred admission, tumbling forward slightly as you clutch your belly.
matthew's hands steady you easily. the combination of your shitty balance and surprisingly playful and kind words tells him all he needs to know about your current state—you're drunk.
"where's lucas?" he asks you, beer can abandoned on a side table beside one of the terribly stained couches lining the makeshift sitting area. matthew eyes you again, "or did you come with cora?"
you shake your head. "cora's a loser and had to work—so here I am."
he can barley understand you due to the slurred, sluggish string of words, but he catches the jist of it. "so you're alone."
"no..." you retort, huffing like you're annoyed. "lucas is here. wait! have you seen him?"
"not for hours." matthew tells you. "I think you need to go home though."
you whine a protest, shaking off the hand he'd still had on your shoulder. matthew isn't having it, and before you can register what's going on, he's grabbing the meat of your biceps, guiding you to the couch before sitting you down.
"hey!" you huff, falling back against the cushions—wow, for a frat couch it's really comfortable.
"i'm going to find lucas, okay? stay here." matthew tells you firmly before walking back into the heart of the crowd, on a mission to find your boyfriend. it's actually not a hard task, and he's only looking for a minute or two before he spots lucas—in the back corner with a couple guys from the team and some mystery girls, all laughing and passing around a joint.
"hey," matthew starts firmly, grabbing the groups attention. lucas brows pull, taking a slow drag from the joint resting between two loose fingers.
"lucas man, y/n needs to go home—she's practically black out."
lucas groans, passing off the joint to the blonde girl closest to matthew—the same girl who's been eyeing him since he walked up to the group a few moments ago.
"fuck, man. I forgot she was here."
his word have matthew's jaw ticking, eyes squinting pointedly. "you forgot your girlfriend was here?"
lucas, ever oblivious, doesn't catch the irritation lacing his roommates words, and he only shrugs nonchalantly before taking a hearty sip of beer. he looks at matthew, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. "listen, I'm still having a good time. can you like, take her home?"
matthew can barley hold back a scoff. "seriously?"
"i'd really appreciate it." lucas says. "I can trust you, right?"
that really rubs matthew the wrong way, because what the actual fuck is he even trying to insinuate with that comment. before he can bite his tongue, matthew's anger comes boiling to a point. "yeah, because i'm not some no good boyfriend who's spending his time doing drugs and flirting with 18 year olds while my girlfriend is alone and vulnerable."
lucas blinks, taken back—but matthew doesn't care. matthew sends one more harsh glare towards him before leaving the area, weaving back through the party.
when he reaches you again you're practically sleeping, holding your knees to your chest and using them as a pillow. your face is squished, your blinks slow.
"we're going." matthew tells you, gently nudging your knee.
you groan, lifting your head. "where's lucas?"
"he's not coming."
"oh." you sigh, blinking with unshed emotion. your hair is wild, like you've been sweating and running your fingers through it all night—which you have. and if matthew wasn't so frustrated with his roommate right now, he'd probably tease you about it.
matthew helps you off the couch, wrapping his arm around your waist to provide you with some stability as he guides you both outside.
the fresh air is shocking, sending you into a fit of shivers almost immediately—despite the mid may warmth. thankfully it's not a long walk back to the apartment, and matthew only has to stop with you twice because you claim you're going to throw up—spoiler alert, you don't.
you stumble out the elevator, tripping over your own two feet. matthew grabs the back of your tank top, halting you back up. "okay, slow down."
"but i'm tired." you whine, head falling back dramatically.
"you're gunna be real tired when you smack your face off the ground and end up in the ER." matthew let's go of your shirt, but takes ahold of your wrist, practically pulling you down the hall towards your apartment door.
"I don't want to go to the ER." you tell him, eyes widening with panic.
matthew's almost amused, sending you a small smirk over his shoulder. "okay, then let's get you inside."
"okay." you nod in agreement. thankfully the door is unlocked, because matthew didn't even want to start asking you about the whereabouts of your keys while you're this obliterated.
you sigh happily, kicking off your shoes messily before stumbling through your dark apartment. blindly, matthew finds the switch beside the door, flickering on the overhead light.
as soon as the room becomes illuminated he located you again, lounging half on the couch. he moves towards you, his smirk growing. "that's not your bed."
"it's not?"
he stifles a laugh. "no."
you whine again, head lolling to the side dramatically. "can you take me there?" your arms extend out towards him, resembling a mummy. "please. don't be mean."
matthew gulps gently, but takes ahold of your hands, pulling you back into unstable feet. "i'm not mean." he tells you, letting go of your hands. it proves to be a mistake because your immediately falling backwards.
matthew curses, grabbing you before you hit the couch and pulling you back up. you laugh, feeling very much like a ragdoll. you look up into his eyes, "you are too."
"you're mean too." he says, wrapping an arm around your hips and looping his fingers through your belt loop. he begins walking you both down the hall, "you're the one who calls me names."
you gawk loudly. "i'm only defending myself, matthew."
"whatever you say, y/n." he hums playfully. "which room is yours?"
you tell him that it's the room at the end of the hall, and allow matthew to continue guiding you to your bedroom. he nudges the half open door with hip, opening the threshold completely.
he drops you to the bed, and you go easily, falling against the unmade pile of blankets with a smile on your face. "where are your pyjamas?"
you lazily point towards the tall dresser next to the door. "top drawer."
matthew nods, pulling it open and immediately stifling through the jam packed drawer. he manages to pull out a t-shirt and plaid pants—ones he's seen you wearing at his place before. he tosses the items beside you. "think you can manage that?"
you sit up quickly, a lazy scoff falling past your lips. "yes." you grab onto the pyjamas, and before anything else your eyes widen, glancing back to matthew. "turn around."
matthew snickers at your tone—obviously he was going to turn around, but seeing you get so worked up over it has him left amused. he turns on his feet, broad back facing you as he looks into the dark hallway—patiently waiting for you to change.
you begin taking off your tight, alcohol sticky clothes, desperate to get into something comfortable and climb under the blankets. you lift your shirt over your head, and the momentary lack of vision has you stumbling, falling into the chair beside your vanity.
you hear matthew's quiet snicker. "shut up." you grumble, pulling on the pyjama shirt.
"didn't say anything."
"you thought it." you retort. eventually you get into the pants as well, and immediately climb into your bed. the sound of your delightful sigh and ruffling sheets have matthew peeking over his shoulder, making sure you were decent.
once he sees that you are in fact dressed, he faces you again. "do you need to be sick?"
you pause, is if you were assessing yourself to find an answer. a beat passes, "don't think so."
he hums doubtfully, walking towards your vanity and taking ahold of your tiny trash bin sitting underneath. you'd emptied it that morning, so there was nothing but a makeup wipe and a few q-tips in the bottom from when you'd gotten ready. matthew puts it beside your bed. "just in case you're lying."
"excuse me," you huff, squinting pointedly. "I don't lie."
he ignores you, picking up the stuffed zebra sitting on your bed, wedged between the pillow and the headboard. matthew snorts, examining the matted fur and scratched button eyes of your most prized possession. "awh, who's this little guy?"
you push up, snatching your zebra from his hands and bringing it to your chest. "don't touch ross with your filthy hands."
"his name is ross?" matthew snickers as you cuddle the stuffed animal, rubbing your cheek against the top of its head.
you nod. "yes."
"cute." he hums.
your eyes feel heavy with sleep, and it has you falling back towards the pillows, your beloved ross smooshed against your face. matthew swallows gently, watching the way your breath begins to even out and your blinks become slower.
"goodnight, y/n." he whispers.
matthew walks out your room, slowly shutting the door behind him—but just before the latch click, you mumble his name. it has him pausing, slowly pushing the door open once more.
you're looking towards the door lazily. "can you stay with me.”
matthew's face falls, swallowing roughly at the sight of you—laid out on your bed, completely relaxed and pretty. you don't even know what you do to him, and it drives him insane. he sighs. "no. I can't."
you pout, a breathy wind blowing past your dry lips. "pleaseee...lucas never stays with me."
the mention of your boyfriend has matthew scoffing, the conversation they'd had earlier coming back to him in a angry wave. "lucas is a dick."
he's expecting your to scold him, so matthew is surprised when your gentle giggles float through the room. "such a dick." you slur in agreement.
a moment passes, and your quiet giggles slowly die. wordlessly, your hand comes out fromunder the covers and pats the spot beside you—inviting him on your bed.
matthew's breath hitches, but he doesn't walk away. matthew softly shuts the door before walking back through your room, stepping over stray shoes and your discarded party clothes on the way to your bed.
"I don't bite." you grin teasingly.
matthew can't help the smirk that makes its way onto his face. "doubt it."
your smile mimics his, and that has matthew getting onto your bed, sitting atop the covers and leaning his upper body against your plush headboard.
it's only a few more minutes before your gentle snoring is heard throughout the room, a tell tale sign that you've fallen into a deep sleep. matthew watches you for a moment, letting the peace linger between you—a peace that has never been between you before.
matthew's eyes begin to feel heavy, and before he knows it, your soft snores are lulling him to sleep.
STAGE 4: Ignorance
when you woke up the following morning, you were in a state of confusion, still dealing with the lingering affects of alcohol and trying to re-collect your memories from the night before.
with a groan, you got out of bed, shuffling down the hall and into the living room. thankfully, cora is still sleeping after he late night shift—so you're in complete silence as you pour yourself a hefty glass of ice water.
it comes back to you in flashes, each blurry memory worse than the last—rachel convincing you to have another drink, followed by another, the loosing rachel at the party and having to walk through the house while hammered. then matthew is bringing you home, without lucas for a reason you don't recall—matthew in your room, changing behind his back, him touching ross...you pleading for him to stay.
your breath hitches—a mixture of embarrassment and hangxiety hitting you at full force. then you feel yourself panic, your stomach dropping. had you even checked beside you this morning? was your boyfriends best friend still in your bed?
you quickly—much quicker than you should be moving when you're that hungover—make your way back down the wall, sheepishly peeking into your bedroom.
he's gone. and that makes you feel worse than before.
you don't see him for the whole day, and then the next day comes and you still don't run into matthew knies. not in the hallway of your apartment building, and certainly not in the elevator. you don't see him at school, or even at the hockey rink. the one time you spend the night at your boyfriends, matthew is nowhere to be found. almost two weeks pass, and you haven't seen him at all.
it's making you anxious, and not only can cora tell—sending you looks of pity anytime you're making dinner together—but lucas can tell something is up with you too.
anytime he'd ask, you'd brush it off with a easy excuse—you're tired, or you have a headache—but it was never believable, and it was becoming repetitive.
did you say something to him? did you do something to him? you're reeling with possibilities of what could've happened between you and matthew knies to have him actively avoiding you.
but honestly, you're no better, and after a few days the anxiety of it all was getting to you—and you begin actively avoiding him as well. you call in sick to work anytime your shift is during a game, and you've only spent time with lucas if it's at your apartment. you leave early for class with the hopes of avoiding running into him, and you stay behind late for the same reason.
it was exhausting but you couldn't help it.
so when cora texted you this afternoon about meeting up for lunch between her classes, you easily agreed. wednesday's were your free days, with no classes to take up your schedule—moping around your apartment while dealing with the mess of emotions in your head wasn't your most ideal choice of productivity.
so with only an hour until cora's lunch gap, you strip out of your pyjamas, tossing on your robe before making your way to the bathroom. you throw your hair up, only intending to wash your body and hopefully clean off any lingering lazy and anxious energy from your skin.
you sigh, pulling back the floral printed shower curtain. immediately, you scream, jumping backwards as the sight of a large, brown spider that greets you—scurrying up the walls before slipping back down.
your eyes begin welling up with tears as dry sobs rack your body—of course there's a fucking gigantic spider in your bathtub.
you rush out the bathroom and make a beeline for the front door, pulling it open with the upmost urgency. you don't even close it, speed walking down the dimly lit hallway until you're at your boyfriends apartment.
your knocks are frantic, perfectly capturing the emotions your feeling. thankfully it's only a few moments of your panic stricken knocking before the handle turns, the door opening to reveal not lucas.
matthew's taken back at the sight of you—hair piled on top of your head with a makeup stained robe around you, bare feet on display. quickly, his eyes land upon your face, and the sight of your tears and pale skin has him faltering. "what's wrong?"
you swallow roughly, a few tears trailing down your blotchy cheeks. "I went to take a shower, and there's a huge fucking spider and i'm so scared of bugs—I don't know what to do, I need help." you're a babbling, sniffling mess, eyes darting between matthew and back down the hall.
"it's okay." he says quickly, stepping out into the hallway. "i'll kill it, okay?"
you nod, blowing out a shaky breath. "okay." for as long as you can remember you've had a crippling fear of any and all creepy, crawly insects. something about the way they scurry around quickly, unable to know what it's thinking and what it's planning to do to you, never fails to leave you shaking.
your fear has completely taken over your body, and it's the only reason you're able to speak to matthew knies without remembering the past few weeks between you—or rather, the lack there of.
you follow him back to your apartment timidly, trialing behind his broad shoulders like a lost puppy. he breathes gently as he enters, grabbing one of the extra shoes at the front door—the spider killing weapon of choice, clearly.
"it's in the tub." you mutter, eyes darting down the hall. matthew nods, walking towards the bathroom like he's not about to battle the eight legged beast residing in there.
he pulls back the shower curtain further, and you peek around his bicep—locking eyes with the creature. you shiver, a disgruntled moan leaving your mouth. matthew looks back at you. "sure you wanna watch?"
in all seriousness, you nod. "I need to know it's dead."
"okay," he hums, grip tightening around your floppy, strappy sandal. the spider is still crawling around, attempting to escape over the lip of the bathtub but inevitably falling back down.
it's definitely not as big as you described it, but matthew doesn't even dare bring that up. at least, he won't until the spider is gone and you're returning back to a normal heart rate. he brings the shoe up before quickly bringing it back down, but before it can be smooshed, the spider scurries away.
you squeal once again, eyes filling with salty tears as you grip matthew's arm—hiding your face is the soft material of his sweater. "its moving!"
he has a hard time stifling his laugh, looking down at you with an amused expression. "why are you cryin?"
"i'm scared." you mutter, fingers digging into his arm muscle. "hurry up and kill it—oh my god, i'm going to be sick."
matthew rolls his eyes, the action laced with fondness rather than irritation. "well I can't kill it if you're holding onto me for dear life." he watches the way your eyes dart towards the grip on his bicep, and you quickly release him, taking a small step backwards.
now with his arm free, he approaches the tub again, and this time when he brings the sandal down, it finds the spider, smacking the unwanted insect with a sickening plat.
you practically gag, wringing out your hands in disgust at the sound.
matthew looks at you again. "you good?"
hesitantly, you nod. "yeah."
thankfully matthew cleans up the remnants of the spider from your white tub with some toilet paper, eliminating any disturbing evidence of its existence.
as he does, and your frantic state comes back down to normal, you come to the shuddering realization of what's happening—matthew, the man you haven't since since your impromptu sleepover, is standing in your bathroom—all while you cry and stand naked under a robe.
he flushes the paper down your toilet, the hallow flush echoing through your ears. matthew turns back to you, sending you a closed mouth, awkward smile.
you hate this—this isn't the matthew you know. you hadn’t realized how much you missed his annoying remarks and infuriating smirk until you no longer had them. you're panicking again, expect this time it's because you don't want him to leave and you never see him again.
you clear your throat, stepping in his path. "I haven't seen you."
his brows pull tightly, eyeing you up and down curiously. "what do you mean?"
"you've been avoiding me." you huff, nerves settling low in your belly. you’re not even worried about how desperate you sound, and you play with the string of your robe with nervous, trembling hands.
"only because you've been avoiding me." he retorts firmly.
"what?" you breathe roughly—exasperated. even though you so badly want to say that you haven't, it would be a lie. you have been avoiding him, and clearly he's caught onto the fact. so you decide to play coy, and somewhat petty, crossing your arms. "i'm literally with you right now."
matthew snickers. "not by choice."
"and since when have I ever spent time with you by choice?" you question lightly.
matthew's almost playful expression falters, and a more serious look blossoms over his features. he swallows gently, adam’s apple bobbing prominently. "since you've never decided to walk away."
your mouth opens, nothing but a hitched breath coming out. you blink once, and then again, feeling nothing less than speechless from matthew's words.
his eyes dart over your face, taking in your seemingly surprised reaction. he too blinks roughly, shaking his head slightly as if he didn't mean to say that aloud. matthew clears his throat once, "i'm sorry for being all weird these past couple weeks," he pauses, eyes finding yours, "I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
you frown. "you didn't." a gentle, shaky laugh leaves you, "if I'm remembering correctly, I begged you to stay."
his lips quirk upwards in a smile, "more like pleaded."
"okay!" you laugh in amused disbelief, covering your eyes with a still shaking hand. "don't remind me."
"but you see, this reaction is going to make me remind you at every possible opportunity." matthew teases, reaching towards you until his fingers gently brush yours, moving your hand away from your blushing face.
your eyes flicker back to his, smile falling as you blink up at him. you gulp gently, feeling your stomach swoop with a combination of emotions—nerves, confusion, fear, denial...need.
matthew's eyes slowly trace over you face, lingering on your damp lips before reluctantly tearing his gaze away. but he can't help but to drink you in further, admiring your exposed neck and collarbones—the fuzzy peach housecoat and the crazy hair—the silver initial necklace hanging around you, dangling above your sternum like the perfect accessory. it's all so new and so you.
your gazes meet again, and this time you sigh, a breathy noise that shoots right through matthew.
you blink, and without knowing what to do, you look away, back towards the shower. "how do you know there's no more spiders?" you question timidly, an awkward, unsure laugh following.
matthew holds onto his sigh, turning back to the bathtub. he puts his hands on his hips, stepping closer. "hello? anybody here?" he directs into the shower, looking around the porcelain white walls comically.
you smile fondly just as he looks back to you. "no more spiders."
something is seriously changing between you and matthew, and that makes you feel even more anxious than before. as you finally shower—speedily because you're still scared of the possibility of more creatures—and get ready for lunch, you can't help but wonder.
the what ifs and possibilities all involving your boyfriends roommate are very prevalent in your head, even as you begin to walk to a local campus cafe. as soon as you sit down, you're spilling your guts to cora.
no, you think, you can't like matthew because it's wrong—it's crazy. you're in a relationship, and a few months ago you hated him...at least, you thought you hated him.
and as you expressed it all to your friend, she listened with nothing but love and understanding. when you eventually stop your panicked ramble, cora sighs, looking at you like she just knows.
in that moment you know—the eyes never lie.
STAGE 5: Breaking
you scan the page of your textbook carefully, reading the history material in the hopes of applying it to your research assignment—but your mind is in a million other places.
since you've come to the realization 3 days ago that you have some sort of feelings for matthew, you haven't stopped thinking about him. you're still not sure what it is exactly you feel, so in all honesty you don't feel guilty about it—at least, not yet.
you blink, focusing your eyes as you attempt at reading the same paragraph again. the library is thankfully empty, meaning there's nobody to provide any type of distraction—the last thing you need is another distraction.
well, you're not completely alone, lucas is sitting across from you, typing away on his laptop as he attempts at starting his assignment that was due tomorrow. god, just thinking about that stresses you out. his legs stretch out underneath the table, invading your space, as well as his things spread across the tabletop—providing little to no breathing room.
all day there's been a lingering, awkward energy between you and lucas. he's been unusually quiet, and anytime he did talk to you it was quick and uninterested. unfortunately you've been too busy within your own head to notice the sharp glances he's been sending you, and the way his lips pull into a frown anytime you'd make a sigh of frustration or worry.
it was constant—and lucas was at his breaking point. as you have to restart the scentence again, a tiny huff leaving your lips, he shuts his laptop, the heavy click echoing throughout the library.
you look up quickly, brows pulled together as you eye him. "you okay?"
he huffs in disbelief, "your mind is like somewhere else recently—it feels like you're just a host of a body. it's like you don't even want to be with me." lucas tone is dripping with frustration, sounding nothing less then condescending and irritated.
you blink quickly, taken back from his sudden outburst. slowly, you put down the pen you'd been using to follow along with the words, eyeing lucas with a confusing tilt. is he joking? the last person who should be complaining about anything like this is lucas.
his face stays stern—looking at you like he's just watched you kill his dog. he's not joking.
you scoff quietly, but the disgusted tone is more than prevalent. "seriously? that's rich coming from you lucas. it feels like you haven't wanted to spend time with me for the past three months."
"that's not true." he retorts quickly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
"is it not?" you question sarcastically.
"no!" lucas practically shouts, leaning on the table as he eyes you wildly. "you sound stupid right now."
the remark that you had dies on your tongue, mouth snapping shut. your jaw clicks as it tightens, anger coursing through you at lucas' insult. "how come you didn't take me home at that party a few weeks ago?" you question softly, a knowing look in your pointed gaze.
he wasn't expecting that, and it has him flattering slightly, leaning back as he blinks two quick times. lucas runs a hand through his unruly, light hair, tugging at the root in frustration—trying to think of answer.
"I don't know...fucking seemed like matthew had it under control." he swallows, pausing for a moment. "why does it matter?"
his admission give you confirmation you hadn't realized you'd been looking for. you laugh in disbelief, "yeah, well it seems like matthew is the only one who cares about me."
it was a low blow, one that has lucas' anger rising rapidly—but it was your truth, and you know that now.
"yeah too fucking much." he snarls.
"sorry that he cares about me—unlike you."
lucas jaw tightens, eyeing your face with a look you've never seen before. "we need to break up."
you look at him with disbelief and disappointment, your lip beginning to quiver. "so you're not even going to deny it? not even going to try and fight for me?"
this conversation has taken a turning point you weren't expecting—at least not today. there's nothing but anger between you, but yet you're not upset about being broken with. you're upset because you feel stupid, and everything you've feared about your relationship is true. lucas may love you, but he doesn't care about you.
his eyes flicker with something unknown, and he sighs, "I don't think you want me to."
you close your textbook and shove it into your bag, pushing off the table as you hastily get to your feet. "you're a dick." you don't wait for his response, leaving the library with your heart in your hands.
you push open the grand doors, and immediately you're enveloped in rain. you curse, tightening the hold on your book bag as you begin speed walking in the direction of your apartment. it seems that the rain only gets harder as you go, pelting against your skin like mini bullets and completely soaking you.
it's the cherry on top of everything, and you can't wait to get home, strip completely naked and cry in bed.
the sigh of relief is loud as you finally get back to the apartment building, walking into the lobby like a wet dog. you make a b-line to the elevators, not making your usual stop in the mail room—something that was habit anytime you'd come home.
you wring your hair out between your hands, the water hitting the elevator carpet with a small plopping noise. thankfully, it doesn't stop and you make it up to your door without any interruptions.
you sniffle away the emotion creeping up your chest, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. you only make it a few steps before a door is opening, distracting you.
it's lucas and matthew's apartment, and our steps the latter, gym bag slung over his shoulder. you come to a slow stop without meaning to, looking at him with a soft, yet curious gaze.
his eyes dart to you, but as soon as he sees the state your in he's moving, stepping closer to you with a worried expression. "woah...you okay?"
just the caring tone of his question has you welling up with tears, and it feels like everything is crashing down on you all at once. the confusion, the anger, the heartbreak, the lust, the curiosity...it's all there, drowning you.
you shake your head, mouth opening and closing unsurely. "I-I don't...i'm so." your voice is shaking, and you're borderline hyperventilating as you attempt at getting a coherent sentence out.
matthew lets his gym bag slip off his shoulder, hitting the ground with a hard thud. he takes ahold of your biceps, squeezing the fleshiest part firmly. "take a fucking breath, y/n, you're gunna make yourself sick."
closing your eyes, you take a few deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself down from the sudden emotional attack set upon yourself. it takes a minute, but eventually you feel yourself begin to relax, your heart rate slowly creeping back down.
you let your eyes flutter back open, meeting the concerned ones of matthew. your brows pull tightly, a nervous gulp following. "why are you looking at me like that, matthew?" your question is barley above a whisper, as if you were almost scared of the response.
"like what?" he breathes, not once breaking eye contact.
it's almost intimidating, but it's also confirming of so many things. but of course, you're hesitant—heck you're scared and nervous and so unsure about what's going on between you. your brows are still drawn together, creating a tiny indent in the middle of your forehead.
matthew has to fight every urge in his body to not run his thumb over the indent to smooth it out.
"like...like you fucking care about me. like you want me." you answer firmly, eyes frantically moving around matthew's face as you attempt at gauging his reaction.
he doesn't release the hold on your biceps, his gaze turning completely soft. "y/n." he says your name knowingly, fingers gently running up your arms. that’s his answer.
"matthew." you exhale shakily, distracted by the gentle pressure of his fingers on your skin. "you're making me all..."
"all...what?"
"confused." you say honestly, looking up at him with the most vulnerable expression he's seen.
matthew swallows roughly, jerking his hands off your body like you just told him that's he's burning you. "i'm sorry"
the soft, hopeful look on his face doesn't falter, and if anything it increases. "no," you shake your head, "stop."
"what? stop apologizing?" he questions with a frown.
"no," you repeat, "stop looking at me like that."
a moment passes before he speaks again, his words laced with desire— stressing his words. "I can't."
another beat of silence, nothing but the hitching breath of both and you matthew to be heard. you lick onto your bottom lip, "lucas and I...we broke up."
"you did?"
you only get one nod out before matthew rushes forward, grasping your face like he's been waiting for the opportunity since he was put onto the earth. you tilt your head back instinctively, and it's just timed as matthew leans down to kiss you.
the kiss is instantly desperate, the clashing of lips and teeth alluding to so. your tongues glide across each others like second nature, elevating the kiss to a higher, more intense level. it's exhilarating—it's right.
you sigh into his mouth, trembling hands reaching up and grabbing onto matthew's wrists—keeping him against you. you've completely forgotten that you're soaked from head to toe, and how you've just had a fight with lucas that lead to a break up...it's all lost in matthew.
his hands slide farther back, fingers intertwining with your wet strands of hair. it's a gentle and welcoming pull, and you can't help but sigh in pleasure.
matthew follows suit, groaning into your messy kiss. it's been months and months of tip-toeing around one another, too scared to admit the truth in fear of ruining everything and everyone else along the way. but now it's just you two, and matthew can't help but moan at the thought.
the elevator doors slide open, and you’re both pulling apart instinctively at the sound.
but as lucas stands there, jaw ticking with anger as he stares at you—you know it's too late, and he's just seen you making out with his friend. or better yet, he's seen his friend making out with his newley ex-girlfriend.
"are you two fucking serious?"
your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. it looks bad, you know it it does—mostly because it is bad. you've been thinking about matthew for much longer than you care to admit, and the first thing you did after getting broken up with is run into his arms—letting matthew kiss you like you're both horny teenagers.
"lucas..." matthew trails off, turning to his roommate with a guilty laced hesitation.
but lucas is only looking at you, that same disgusted smirk on his face from the library. "can't even remember the last time you kissed me, but yet the first thing you did after leaving the library was make out with my roommate. I didn't realize you were such a slut."
you inhale sharply, tears quickly welling up in your eyes.
matthew rushes forward, and before he can logically think of the consequences of his actions, he punches lucas square across the face.
"matthew!" you gasp, moving towards the two men with concern pulling at your face. "no."
he doesn't hear you, looking at lucas as he clutches his jaw. matthew's gaze narrows, shaking out his hand. "don't fucking talk to her like that."
your ex-boyfriend laughs in a mixture of shock and disbelief, stretching his jaw out before he looks back at you. lucas doesn't say anything else, turning and leaving down the buildings stair well.
you're shocked, embarrassed and guilt ridden—your watery gaze locked on the empty space lucas was only moments ago occupying.
"y/n?" matthew questions gently, snapping you out of your own head.
you blink hard, shaking your head. "i'm sorry, I just need some space." you turn away from matthew before he has the chance to answer—mostly because you're too scared that if he begins to speak you'll crawl right back into his arms.
matthew watches you walk away, and all he can do is stand there, focused on your fleeting figure as he slip into your apartment—your lip trembling without another glance in his direction.
his face is contorted, not in anger, but in a look of concern. guilt flashes across his features, and he can't help but groan, running a palm over his face in frustration. did he just loose you for good?
you shut the apartment door behind you, and the tears begin falling down your face at a rapid pace. your lips tug into a frown, a sob wracking through you as you lean back against the door.
cora rounds the corner at the sound, her eyebrows pulled in concern. "what's wrong?" she breathes, rushing towards you.
"I did something terrible." you admit through your stuttering gasps, looking at your roommate with a million different emotions.
"honey..." she coos, wrapping you in a hug. your tears intensify as cora squeezes you in the embrace, and you bury your face in her shoulder to mask your desperate cry.
Epilogue
“god miller! just kiss me already!”
“no, not like this!”
you groan, falling into the couch cushions. the scene on the tv illuminates the room, the late afternoon sun hidden behind the blackout curtains you’ve had drawn since this morning.
nick and jess from new girl have not only been giving you entertainment all day while you mope around, but they’ve also been stupid cute and in love—it makes you want to die.
you’ve only been two places since the chaotic ending to last night; your bed which you cried in all night, and the couch which obviously you also cried on. you keep running through the events of yesterday—the breakup with lucas, finding matthew in the hallway, borderline confessing your feelings to him…kissing him. it felt good—so so good.
but just like that it was snatched from you, and the guilt riddling your body is just nerve wracking and wrenching. while you were kissing matthew, the last thing you were thinking about was lucas, and the possibility of him finding you both like that wasn’t even in your mind. but it happened and now everything feels like a mess—and you feel like an awful person.
you’ve clearly hurt lucas—that much was evident in the awful things he said to you. when you told cora everything last night, eyes stinging with tears and snot dribbling from your nose, she was quick to remind you that lucas never treated you good, and that no matter what he shouldn’t of said that to you.
your phone buzzes against your thigh, making you sit up—brows furrowed in question.
lucas
are you home?
you pause the tv quickly, all while reading the text over and over again as you try and make sense of it. what does he need? does he want to talk? is he going to yell at you? is he simply just curious? does he want to fix your relationship?
you hold your breath as you shakily type your reply.
y/n
yea
you exhale as it goes through, and in habit you bring your thumb to your lips, nerves consuming you as you begin gnawing on the skin around your nail.
your phone buzzes with an incoming message again.
lucas
can I come talk?
you swallow, sitting up straighter as you read his message. this can’t be good, you think—you’ve done nothing positive in the last twenty four hours that warrants a civil talk with your ex. you desperately want to ignore him—throw your phone across the room and get back to new girl on the tv.
a show that you only started watching because it’s matthew favourite—your brain reminds you. you look down at your phone again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you contemplate.
you deserve not only closure, but happiness—not matter what.
y/n
sure
you barley have a minute of speed running the apartment, picking up the empty tub of ice cream and what feels like hundreds on snotty tissues from your crying, before there’s a knock at your door.
even if you didn’t know he was coming over, would could tell it was lucas by the weight of the knock. it was soft, almost hesitant—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually be at your door. it always sounded like that.
before you back out, you pull open the door, revealing yourself to a deadpanned face lucas who’s standing with his hands shoved in his pockets. he gulps, eyeing your figure briefly. “can I come in.”
you nod reluctantly, stepping to the side to create enough room for him to slip inside your apartment. lucas sends you a forced smile as he enters, moving through your place like he’s done many times before.
the door shuts with a gentle click, but the room is so tense and quiet it sounds like a bomb. you follow suit, walking into the living room where lucas stands stagnant—eyeing around the apartment with an unsure expression. suddenly his eyes meet yours, “did you cheat on me?”
“no.” you tell him. “I would never cheat…on anybody.”
he sniffs, the sound annoying and disgusting—it’s like he’s trying to stay calm. “but you like him, right? you like matthew?”
you’re so used to trying to please him that you want to stay quiet—because you know if you admit your feelings for his friend, everything is going to completely change…more than it already has. and as lucas looks at you now, his gaze nothing but knowing, you decide you’re done trying to hide from him.
“I do.” you confirm. “but nothing ever happens, and…I didn’t even know when these feelings started. i’ve been so confused for the longest time, and I was scared because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.” you pause, wringing out your trembling fingers as you collect your next thoughts. “but i’m sick of doing things for everyone else…and I need to let myself be happy—whatever that ends up being.”
lucas stay silent for a moment, but you can see his mind running a mile a minute. his eyes dart all over you, analyzing your face and body language—you’ve never seen him look at you so intently, and it has you wanting to shy away.
he sighs, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m sorry, y/n—for everything.”
your shoulders deflate, and you feel the emotion you’ve been suppressing since lucas texted you coming back to the surface. “thank you. i’m sorry too.”
“can I give you a hug?” his hesitance is evident, looking at you like he’s unsure of your response—how you’ll react. looking at him right now, you can’t be mad at him. not about your relationship, the breakup or the name he called you in his rage. lucas is a good guy, you know that—he’s just not the guy for you.
“yeah.” you breathe. “i’d like that.”
lucas takes the three steps of distance between you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he brings you into his chest. your hands find place around his waist, holding him against you in a wordless goodbye. his cheek rests on the top of your head, a comforting gesture that has your eyes flickering shut.
he takes a deep breath—his words quiet as he speaks. “I think we met for a reason, y/n. and that reason is matthew.” you feel lucas swallow against you, like he knows what he just said is the final nail in the coffin—everything starts now. “have you noticed how he looks at you?”
you pull back, and watch as the corner of his lips begin to turn upwards—the faintest smile growing. lucas may not like it, but he’s accepted it, and it’s feels better than anything you could imagine. your own smile begins to show, and you nod. “I have.”
matthew knies was an enigma—a giant, infuriating mystery that you never expected to entangle yourself in. but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in the past few months, it’s that you’re easily intrigued, especially when the enigma has always cared for you, no matter how rude and stupid you acted towards him.
perhaps you never hated matthew, but rather the way he made you feel. you hated the idea of being in love with him because you had a boyfriend, so you'd turn into an easily irritated girl, who secretly wanted nothing more then the attention of the boy down the hall. the boy who was more of a boyfriend than lucas could ever be. the boy who you don't hate, but love.
of course, there’s still the lingering feelings of confusion and nervousness—because you don’t know where you and matthew will go from here.
but later in the day, on you way back from your evening class, as the elevator doors open to your floor and matthew stands there—a grin growing on both your faces at the mere sight of one another…you think you have an answer.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
playlist
every breath you take (i'll be watching you) by the police
pushing it down and praying by lizzy mcalpine
wrong by zayn
your needs, my needs by noah kahan
do I wanna know? by hozier (cover)
each time you fall in love by cigarettes after sex
if I can't be with you by olivia obrien
I would by one direction
#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic#matthew knies#matthew knies imagine#matthew knies fic#matthew knies x reader#matthew knies fanfic#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#nhl x y/n#nhl smut#nhl fanfic#nhl fanfiction#hockey imagine#hockey x reader#hockey fic#hockey fanfiction#hockey smut#toronto maple leafs imagine#toronto maple leafs x reader#toronto maple leafs smut
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it's you, it's you, it's really all for you (nh13)
Happy winter fic exchange @puckology101 !!! For the plot I had in mind, I didn't think a Swiss Alps trip was realistic but I hope this does the trick. I tried to detail the beautiful Banff scenery as best as I could (especially for someone who has never been!) so I hope you could truly envision that.
As always, @wyattjohnston Demi thank you so much for hosting this event for our community!
This is 2k+ words, I don't believe there's any mentions of any defining traits but I have not done a thorough check to ensure that this is safe for all to read. If you would like me to do that, shoot me a message and I'm more than willing to double check.
Title from Video Games by Lana del Rey (the live version, iykyk) this is loosely edited!
Nico Hischier, in hind sight, was thrilled that Switzerland was not a part of the four nations tournament. His logical, captain sense knows that he should want to play hockey all the time, work on his game, and he does really love international play. However, he needed a break. The high powered, adrenaline filled season had taken a toll on his body and his mental capacity.
But deep down, he was thrilled. Because that means he gets to go on a trip with his best friend, Y/N. When some of the guys who weren't going to four nations decided to get a group together and take a trip to Banff, complete with skiing, the beautiful winter scenery, and two hot tubs on the property, he jumped on the opportunity, even faster when he knew Y/N could come with.
Dawson insisted that he invited his girlfriend because he promised her a trip on the all star break but she ended up not being able to go. Soon enough, almost all of the guys were inviting their partners, save for Luke who insisted on bringing his best friend Dylan Duke, never one for formalities with girls.
Nico was chronically single, but always by choice. He does not have enough fingers and toes to count the amount of times he's tried to show you how much he loves you, more than a friend, but it never works. Either you're lovingly clueless or you don't feel the same way, the latter causing a pit in his stomach. That being said, Nico will always pick you as his plus one to pretty much anything. If you ever suggest that he find a real date, someone who he might want to be romantically involved with, he shrugs it off immediately, letting you know that "he doesn't have time for a relationship right now" and that "you make him happier than any relationship ever could."
Everything leading up to the trip was relatively smooth. The private jet flight (that you'd never get used to) was like flying on a resort, you were able to get time off work with no problem, and even the packing didn't seem like as much of a chore as it usually does. But things started getting interesting as soon as you, Nico, and the group made it to the ski resort. You always knew you'd be sharing a room, that much never bothered you. You'd shared hotel rooms with him before, having not been a first timer on an all star break trip, which is essentially what this was. Coincidentally, all of the people on the trip ended up with rooms right next to each other. When you opened the door, you saw one huge king bed staring right at you.
You and Nico shared a look, assuming that your room may have gotten mixed up with the others. Sure enough, when you knocked on everyone's door, they all had the same set up as you. The only room with two beds on the floor, it seemed, belong to Luke and Dylan. You thought of asking them to switch, but you could only imagine Luke's dramatics and theatrics if you tried to suggest switching rooms.
"It really doesn't bother me, Y/N. As long as it doesn't bother you, I'm fine with it. Besides, did you see the size of that bed? It could probably fit a third person in there also." You really didn't know why you were so nervous. Of course, you had known you had feelings for Nico. But you always felt that Nico could never have any feelings for you. You had watched Nico flirt with girls in the bar after games, even on the trips you went on, awkwardly tagging along on his side. It was the same way he flirted with you sometimes. It made you feel like you were just another girl for him to flirt with. He had a naturally flirty personality, and you were just another person who came in contact with that.
As you opened the door to the bedroom again, accepting your fate, you took a second to look around and truly take in the room. You were amazed at what you saw. When you first walked into the room, you could clearly see the bathroom, with a jacuzzi tub and a waterfall shower, and even a double vanity sink. In addition to the huge bed, there was a massive TV set up across from it, some of the softest towels you've ever countered in your life, and a huge glass sliding door. When you moved the curtains, you couldn't help the gasp that had came over your mouth.
Nico had seen tons of beautiful mountain scenery in his lifetime, growing up in Switzerland. He had seen the mountains, the snow, all of it. And sure, you had seen snow. It was usually tinged with grey and brown, tire tracks and footprints ruining its true beauty. This, this pure, unaltered beauty of the mountain scene in Banff, it took your breath away. Nico couldn't help but smile, seeing your pure joy, watching the breath get stolen from your mouth as you observed the scenes around you.
"Nico this is... wow," you gasped, leaning in when he wrapped his arm around you, feeling him rest his head atop of yours. Your heart fluttered, feeling like you were meant to be here. "You're my best friend," you smiled nuzzling into his side. "Yeah, my best friend."
You should've known with the room situation that the guys were up to something. After all, Dawson insisted on booking the rooms, saying that Nico deserved a break from his "captain duties," causing Nico to rebut that "booking rooms on a vacation is hardly a 'captain's duty.'" But when you turned away from the mountains, you were beginning to discover that it was possible that you and Nico had gotten the "honeymoon suite." You had your own private hot tub on the deck of your room, the first floor patio backing up into a beautiful mountain scene. You imagined snow falling onto your face and hair as you and Nico lounged in the hot tub together. Your cheeks heat up at the thought, causing you to pull away from Nico. You couldn't allow yourself to get too caught up in the what ifs. If Nico really wanted to make a move on you, he would make a move, not the same move he had made hundreds of other times.
You found yourself in your bathroom getting ready with the other girls that were on the trip. Nico had already gotten ready and was downstairs at the bar drinking with the guys. Since you had gotten in to the resort after 5, you knew no skiing would be happening, so you made reservations at a nice restaurant in downtown Banff.
"So, how's it going with you and Nico? Do you like the room?" Dawson's girlfriend giggling, nudging you in the side. "I knew that couldn't have been accidental. Dawson seemed way too excited watching me trying to figure out how to unlock the room door," you laughed, nudging her right back. "It's so foolish. You both clearly love each other, but neither of you will make a move. It makes no sense. If you guys won't do it, someone else had to try it." You sighed, putting the cap on your lip gloss.
"I know what you mean, but I really don't think Nico likes me back. He acts the same way with every other girl he's come across. If Nico really wants to be with me, I want him to make it known, make it obvious. Do something that lets me know that it's me only, not me and the girls at the bar, not me and the girls who wait for him after games, just me." Whether you realized it or not, the other girls were silently taking notes, and as soon as you went to the bathroom at dinner, they told Nico.
When you arrived with the girls at the restaurant, you learned the guys were already waiting at a table. Nico's eyes lit up when he saw you, smiling wide and blushing at your prolonged eye contact. As you came closer to the table, he took a step toward you, pulling you into a hug. His large hand ran along your back as he pulled you in close, causing goosebumps to raise up your arms and on the back of your neck.
"You look absolutely stunning," he whispered in your ear, causing your cheats to heat up, a smile just as big as Nico's. Nico only pulled away to pull your chair out for you, again causing your cheeks to heat up, the girlfriends smiling around you, although you had genuinely no idea because you couldn't stop staring at Nico.
They wondered how you couldn't see how much he cared for you, more than anyone, especially any other girl. Even the guys could see how much he cared for you. The girls understood deep down, knowing how difficult it can be to be able to fully trust a man, especially if you had been hurt in the past by one. Because yes, they were taking notes to share with Nico. But they really didn't need to. And everything they told him, he already knew.
He knew exactly where you'd want to eat, knowing that you craved your comfort food when you were tired. It was the perfect place to eat after a travel day, and getting to the hotel when it was already dark. He knew your preferred seating choice, and of course he knew that you would want a table with a view of the mountains. He didn't care how much it cost him, or that he had to name drop himself (and Luke) to get the table with the view. All that mattered was that he could sit across from you, and watch you admire the view, while he admired you, which was really all that mattered to him.
And nothing felt more perfect than when the rest of the couples started either making their way back to the resort or to the next stop on their drinking trip down the Main Street in Downtown, you and Nico stayed. The two of you stayed, his hand softly brushing yours as you talked, him with his back to the window, taking that spot specifically so that you could see the scenery. And even as everyone left, leaving the two of you at the table alone, all he wanted to do was look at you. The way you smiled, the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you laughed, even the soft yawn you let out towards the end of the night made him smile, his cheeks hurting at the end of the night.
When the uber dropped you two off at the resort at the end of the night, Nico held the door open for you, helping you back into the room. When he moved from the front of your view and you saw what he had done, you couldn't stop the gasp from coming from your mouth. How he had done it while being at the restaurant and you being the last to leave the room, you truly didn't know. But you didn't need the logistics, because it all settled in for you.
It's you. It's always you. It always has been, and always will be. The most beautiful bouquets of your favorite flowers sat around the room, no flower petals on the floor because you both agreed that that was impractical. A bucket of champagne sat cooling right by the glass doors that outlooked the view, the most perfect view. It was then you realized that it was more than Dawson who picked this room, it was Nico, wanting to share the space with you. It was Nico who knew how much you'd love the view. It's Nico. It always has been, and it always will be.
When your eyes locked from across the room, your eyes finally looking up at his, which you knew had been on yours the whole time, you couldn't cross the room fast enough. And when your lips locked with his, everything else floated away. It was like nothing else mattered. As the snow fell in the background just behind you, you knew that it didn't matter where you were, and it didn't matter who came in the way. It was always you.
#nh13#elle's writing#nico hischier#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier x reader#New Jersey devils imagine#New Jersey devils x reader
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mmmm no super great ideas for you but im craving for virgin!rindou and single mom reader… aaaaaauhagghg.
collection
慢一點,久一點,真一點。
Rindou initiates the talk first.
It happens on a game of WNRS in your living room, takeout boxes long forgotten on the coffee table. The TV is playing a movie you're sure neither of you are really watching, yet you still want to pretend that you are.
You've been giggling at him for the past hour. He's a pretty funny guy, you think. Doesn't have as big of an ego you thought guys like him would have.
He's a nerd who's always so observant and nice. He's nice to you, your son, the ladies living in your apartment complex who always needs help switching light bulbs because they're too old for that now. One time behind doors Yuzuha's said that she'd smash if he weren't such a loser all the time.
(You think he is, too.
But it's what that makes him so... fuckable.
You think it's bad that you keep having these thoughts, knowing that you're most probably leading him on.
You're not ready yet.
But your heart still thumps weirdly when he comes to visit with warm food and occasionally new toys that you can tell he's had a hard time picking for your boy 一 because he's somehow always one colour off, or one category away.
When he bought Hot Wheels, the kid's already moved on to playing Legos. And when he gifted an expensive Star Wars set that he saved up for, the little shit just has to be in his Mommy phase.)
He gets embarrassed easily and you can just tell he's a virgin with the way he treats porn magazines that Yuzuha has somehow gotten her hands on, stuffed behind cabinets so that Shou doesn't find them. Neither of you let her know that she's been exposed, but it's more fun this way.
He's just a guy. Genuine, very smart despite what he says. Not book smart, but he reads up on things a lot. A bit clumsy at times, but he's still responsive than most men.
He's easy to talk to. Easy to know.
Easy to一
"What's a compliment you wished you received more frequently? Oh, dang. I gotta think about this." He flips the card around, throwing his head back onto the couch.
And yet again一
"Do you wanna go first?"
What are guys like him?
"I wish more people told me I was pretty."
Your response came to you naturally. It poured like waterfall, thorny chain tightening around your heart, squeezing your flesh tight, and you busy yourself with a loose thread on your blanket.
Rindou only stares at you from the other end of the couch. Almost like a deadpan, but not really. His violets pierce through your soul, dissecting you up one by one. You don't make eye contact even when you can hear the silent screams for you to look at him.
"You're kidding."
"What? It's true."
"No. I mean, no one tells you that all the time?"
You crack a smile, glancing up to take just one quick look. He's still as handsome as ever, boyish features much more prominent under the yellow light illuminating the room.
Soft nose, pretty doe eyes. Cracked lips pink from the Malatang you love eating. Veiny hands 一 one thick, desirable finger twirling around the drawstring of his pants 一 that draws you in so close you can't help but go wild at the sight.
"What, you think I'm pretty?"
He doesn't cough like you'd expected him to. Doesn't get embarrassed or act any more like a classic, textbook virgin at your poke.
"Yeah. You're pretty." His voice gets softer with every syllable. Dodgy eyes looking away with each word.
You don't respond at that, but you can't lie that his compliment did make you feel something swirling on the inside. Something blooming in your tummy from the way his eyes look into your own.
It's true 一 you haven't been told for your looks as much as you've always wanted. You're hot, you're sexy, sure 一 but you haven't been pretty to them. You've always hoped that they could see past your body 一 to see you for who you are on the inside.
"You're一" He shifts in his seat, suddenly feeling a little too hot, heart beating a little too fast in his chest. "You're pretty, okay. You always spend too much time in the mirror but I think you're fine just like this."
You purse your lips, listening.
"You're... Shit, I'm一"
You understand him when he throws his pillow to the side to run fingers through his hair. He's not always good with words, hasn't always been. But he still tries, and you like that about him.
He always puts in effort.
"You're pretty, like music. There's no boundaries, no... box. You can be anything. It's cool."
You grin at that. "Really?"
A nod. "I can tell you that everyday from now on."
An awkward silence too heavy for any of you to handle covers the room like blanket too fast. The soft, anticipating smirk on his face drops when you shift in your seat, clicking your tongue. Fingers scratching at your brows, teeth biting into the corners of your lips.
"Rindou, I'm sorry if I have been leading you on, I一" You sigh. "I don't think I'm ready for一."
"No, wait一" He tries inching a hand towards you but you dodge. "I thought we一 Aren't we onto something here?"
Rindou feels pathetic. He feels as if he's reaching for something that seems close but is still so, so far away.
"No, I'm sorry. I'll pay you back for tonight's dinner. And I don't think you should come over so often anymore. I'll talk to Shou-chan, have him understand."
He lets out a breath too short, standing on his feet as if it'll help him figure you out better. "Why? Is it me?"
"I just don't think it's fair to you, okay? We should stop. I'm sorry."
"What isn't fair to me?"
You give him a look so sad that his heart hurts.
"You're gonna be dealing with a kid that's not yours. He's hyperactive and naughty before bed. He's picky with food and doesn't like taking showers. Worst of all you're gonna be dealing with me. I'm not easy. I'm difficult to manage, to handle, to一 You'll not like me anymore when you see it for yourself. Guys like you deserve better things."
Fuck.
Rindou scrunches his brows, face twisting into one of confusion, one that makes you seem crazy for saying what you said.
"Why do you say these things about yourself? Why do you say these things about him? He's just a kid, I'm not good with kids but I'm sure I can handle him out of all." He throws his hands up in the air a little. "And, seriously, guys like me? What am I like? Why do you assume that way about me? I'm not that kind of person. I don't like doing that."
You fight the tears threatening to fall. It hurts, to say the least.
"Like, why do you think I've been around for so long? I would've turned on my back long ago if you and Shou were so hard to love."
requests are open
#r(evol)ution#writing#rindou haitani#haitani rindou#rindou x reader#rindou haitani x reader#haitani rindou x reader#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokrev#tokrev x reader#tr#tr x reader
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Feeling Myself | Natalie Scatorccio
summary: Your best friend's been ignoring you since you hooked up a few days ago. Determined to speak with her again, you decide to visit her in the changing rooms after a soccer game. What's the worst that happens?
pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader
warnings: porn/what plot, smut (afab!reader), slightly ooc nat (in the name of porn), no proofreading we die like jackie
a/n: this shit corny asf LMAOOOO (this is a "what-if" from part two.) (also see: i had a thought while writing part two. this is 90% smut.) (this is also 10x as crude as the previous smut I've done sorry not sorry)
wc: 3430
[you don't need to read either part to read this.]
part one / part two
A quick recap of the events that took place the past week.
You slept with your best friend at a party. Your best friend who happens to be knee-deep in denial when it comes to her sexuality. She's been avoiding you like the plague since then. You've just finished watching her play a soccer game, and now you're awkwardly standing outside the locker rooms.
Great. Recap over.
Okay, thirty minutes is overkill, especially for Nat, who typically likes getting in and out as fast as possible. Sure, maybe you'd spend thirty minutes in a shower at home, but in a public place? With the floors that definitely have bacteria on them that could kill a Victorian child?
That's practically a carnal sin.
You aren't sure why you're steeling yourself; I mean… odds are she just left through the other entrance, right? And it's not like you aren't allowed in this change room, it's just the general change room for the school facilities…
Whatever.
You stand up straight and throw the door open to the changing room, not that surprised to find it completely empty—save for the sound of a shower running in the back of the space. Realistically, if it is Nat, you should probably let her finish her shower. You don't really know where the two of you stand right now, and intruding on a shower hardly seems like a good time to find out. And, if it isn't Nat, intruding on a shower would be a really, really bad idea.
Still, you decide to investigate further.
Quietly making your way toward the shower stalls, you glance around and look for anything that could give you an idea about whoever it is, showering and praying to whatever God there is that it's Nat and not some random stranger.
When you reach the benches in front of the stalls, you let out a relieved breath you didn't even realise you were holding—you'd recognize those combat boots anywhere.
Is confronting her while she's in the shower the most intelligent idea? No. But honestly? You're more than a little frustrated and pretty sure that she'll continue to avoid you unless you do something now.
So, you do the mature thing, much like she did.
You storm to the front of the stall and bang on the door, "Natalie?!" You call out, voice slightly shaky at the idea that it might not be her after all.
A long, tense moment of silence passes after you speak, save for the sound of water hitting the tiles below. You start to panic, worrying that you really did just knock on a stranger's shower stall, scaring the everliving shit out of—
"Are you fucking kidding me?" A voice, unmistakenly belonging to a certain Natalie Scatorccio, rings out over the sounds of the shower, "You couldn't fucking… wait until I wasn't fucking showering?!"
"You've been avoiding me!" You yell back, "What the fuck was I supposed to do? You haven't been showing up to class, you've been avoiding my calls… I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do?"
"I don't know!" She yells back, "Maybe wait for me to come to you when I'm ready to talk, ideally not when I'm in the fucking shower?!"
"Yeah, well…" You mutter, realising that… yeah… maybe this wasn't the best time, but you're already here! There's no backing down now! "That's not the point!" You eventually continue, "Why have you been avoiding me since Friday night?"
She doesn't respond for a long moment.
"Well?" You scoff, calling over the water, "Natalie? Are you gonna answer me—"
The stall door flings open, revealing a very naked and very wet Natalie Scatorccio.
Your jaw drops. Sure, you saw her naked during the night of the party, but this is much different. She looks very upset with your sudden appearance, and for a moment, when she draws her hand back, you worry she's about to clock you in the jaw. And, honestly? You'd probably deserve it.
What you aren't expecting, however, is her to grab the back of your head and mash your lips against hers, all tongue and teeth.
It's only a moment's hesitation before you return the kiss, and she's drawing you back into the shower stall. "We better be alone," Natalie murmurs, tugging your hoodie off and over your head as it begins to soak through. "I'm not about to have one of the girls walk in on this."
"No, uh, yeah, we're alone." You stammer out, kicking off your shoes and pants, "I wouldn't have caused a scene if there were still people in here—"
"Good." Nat breathes out as she tugs you into the shower's spray, despite the fact you haven't even gotten the chance to remove your underwear yet. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this." And her lips are back against yours, free hand immediately moving to find purchase between your thighs, fingers rubbing you through the damp fabric. (Which, you'll note, is now damp for more than one reason.)
"Holy fuck—" A shaky exhale parts from your lips, your head falling back to hit the shower wall, one hand attempting to find some sort of grip on the wall while the other grasps uselessly at her wrist, "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you in the time we weren't talking?" You ask breathlessly, hips pushing into her hand.
"I spent a lot of time thinking about this." She murmurs, fingers pushing the soaked fabric aside and pushing two fingers through your slick folds, teasing the length of your slit for a few moments before she quickly sinks two fingers into the wet heat at the apex of your thighs.
"F-fuck—" A full-body shiver rakes through your form as your back arches off the wall, a shocked gasp leaving your lips once she starts fucking her fingers into you with reckless abandon. "Jesus Christ—" "You seem to be saying his name a lot. Last I checked, it's my fingers inside of you and not his." She says with a smug grin, resting her free hand on the wall next to your head. "Unless you got really religious in the past few days."
"Asshole." You grunt out, nails digging into her wrist as you desperately roll your hips against her hand, "You are knuckle deep inside me, and I'm not about to just start saying your full name—"
"No." She cuts you off, "But you could just say Natalie."
"That's not—" She cuts you off when she stretches you further with a third finger, and you're almost positive her wrist has to be cramping with the angle it's at, but she shows zero signs of stopping or slowing down. "—the point—" You stammer out, eyes screwing shut as squelching sounds from her fingers fucking your pussy manage just to be loud enough to be heard over the rush of water beating against the porcelain.
"No, you're right. The point is that you shouldn't be thinking of anyone else while I'm the one inside of you."
If there was something you expected Nat to say, that was not it, but you can't help the way you clench around her fingers at the comment.
"Oh, shit." A low laugh spills from her throat, "You like that, huh? When I'm all possessive? Didn't realise you'd be into that sorta stuff."
"Fuck off." You mutter, "I've never heard you get possessive before. It's kinda hot."
"Yeah? Guess I'll have to keep that in mind." Her palm grinds hard into your clit as her fingers brush against that spot inside of you that has your hips bucking and losing the rhythm you had found. "Oh. That was a fun spot." Nat murmurs to herself, "I liked that. Let's do it again."
So, she does. She presses her fingers right against that spot with every flick of her wrist, and you can't help but wonder how the fuck she became so damn good at this when at times, it felt like she barely had two brain cells to rub together that night of the party—
Shit, you didn't even notice the fact she was trailing her lips along the hollow of your throat, tongue collecting the water that streams down your body from your face. "Nat—" You gasp when you feel her teeth bite at your jaw, "Shit—"
"Mm, yeah." You can feel her grin against your throat, "See? Knew you had it in you to say my name. Just needed some gentle encouragement, is all."
You can't even form coherent thoughts at this point. You aren't sure what turns you on more: doing this in a public place where anyone could walk in and hear the deplorable things currently transpiring, the fact that Nat seems to be eager to have you like this, the way her lips trace along your neck reverently, or her completely making you forget the whole reason you walked into the changing rooms to begin with.
Nat spends some time alternating between the stretch of three fingers and the ruthless pace of two, occasionally completely retracting her fingers in favour of circling your clit with the pads of her index and middle before sinking them back in.
"You, fuck, I'm close." You stammer out the next time she sinks her fingers back into the tight heat, "Don't fucking stop—"
She shakes her head against your neck, "Not stopping." A shaky exhale, and you start to feel her hips rolling against your thigh, "Not stopping until I feel you fucking come around my fingers."
Your eyes roll back into your head at the words that fall from her lips, and you find yourself gripping her arm again for support. "Oh, holy fuck, Natalie—"
With a stuttering movement of your hips against the heel of her palm, you find yourself crashing into a climax that you were not expecting to get right in the fucking changing rooms.
And, despite how you clench around her fingers and your knees buckle slightly, Nat doesn't even stop. Not for half a second. The crude sounds of her fingers fucking your spasming pussy at breakneck speed don't slow, and your head thrashes back and forth against the wall, "Nat, fuck, wait—"
"No." She hisses into the side of your neck, biting at the skin, "I'm not done yet."
Thank causes a broken groan to slip from your lips as her fingers press against that one spot over and over again to the point the edges of your vision start to turn fuzzy amid the ecstasy. "F-fuck, I just came—"
"I know." She growls out, fingers seemingly plunging in deeper to your tight heat with every thrust of her wrist, "And I want you to come again."
"Oh." You exhale, eyes screwing shut again, "Oh…"
Nat grins at your breathless sounds, "Yeah, baby. Like that." Three fingers, "Fuck, love how tight you feel around my fingers. How fucking wet you are for me." "We're, ah, in a shower. Of course, I'm wet—"
She bites down on your neck particularly harshly at your words, "Shut up. You know that isn't what I fucking meant."
"N-no, but it's funny—"
You barely even register it when Nat drops to her knees before you, bringing one of your legs over her shoulder, "God, shut up."
And, well, you don't get a chance to speak again before she's burying her face against your heat, fingers continuing in their harsh movements as her tongue attaches itself to your clit, swirling around and sucking at the nub.
One of your hands immediately finds itself tangled in her blonde hair, the other trying to hold your body up against the stall wall behind you, which proves… to be a hard enough task on its own, given that the walls are slick with water and smooth.
"Oh, fuck—" You hiss out, tugging slightly on her hair, "Shit, give me a second—"
Nat doesn't. She doesn't stop or slow, either. Hell, she doesn't even humour you with a response, just choosing to focus on her task at hand: making you come again.
It's slightly embarrassing how quickly you're right back on the precipice of an orgasm. You'd probably be mortified if you could form thoughts other than "yes" and "please."
You swear you can feel the way Nat smirks against you as she wraps her lips around your clit, creating a suction that has a full-body shudder raking through you and—
…
Even Nat has to stop for half a second when she feels you come again, less than a minute after the first one. "Fuck." She breathes out, looking up at you with her jaw slightly slack, fingers still buried inside of you. "Did you just…?"
Realistically, you could lie. But you get the feeling this is a hypothetical question.
"I… I told you I needed a second…" Comes your stammered response, "That's… I'm not… I don't… it's just…"
A dark chuckle leaves Nat's mouth as she removes your leg from her shoulder, ensuring you can stand properly before she rises back to her feet, "Mmn, I'm not mad. If anything, it's kinda flattering."
You scowl slightly at her, "What-whatever."
You decide it's her turn, now.
As fast as you can move without slipping on the tile, you pin Natalie to the wall in your place, lips finding her neck, tracing up the path of a water droplet with your tongue, then further up still until your lips are back on hers.
One of Nat's hands comes to rest on your shoulder, the other tangling itself into your hair as your kiss grows more and more heated. Although it's a little tricky to do with the slick walls, you spread her thighs slightly and press your knee up between them, encouraging her to grind down onto your leg. It's your turn to smirk now, finding some sort of pleasure in the way she immediately presses her pussy against you, hips rocking with urgency.
"Yeah," You grunt against her lips, "like that. Keep doing that." The blonde whimpers back, grinding herself faster, "Please." She breathes out, "I need more."
"What?" You chuckle, "Sorry, I didn't get that. Mind saying that again?"
She slaps your shoulder, "Stop being such a fucking tease, asshole. What do you want me to say? That I want your fingers inside of me?"
You grin, "Yeah. That works, actually." One of your hands runs down the flat of her stomach, two fingers run across her folds, not quite delving into the warmth between them. "But the begging is a little hot."
"I'm not going to beg." She immediately answers, "If you aren't gonna fuck me, I'll find someone else to do it."
Your jaw tenses immediately at the comment, and you aren't quite sure if it's jealousy or something else, but the very idea of that pisses you off to no end. "No the fuck you aren't." You hiss out, sinking your index and middle finger into her cunt without another word, earning you a keening sound. "I'm the only person doing this to you tonight."
"God, yes." She almost moans out the words, "Harder."
A scoff, but you oblige her anyway, turning two fingers to three and fucking them into her faster, grinding your palm into her as the digits move, and Nat doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for someone with long fingers.
She presses her tongue back against yours, using the hand that's tangled in your hair to guide your mouth where she wants it—against hers.
The press of your lips against yours makes the movements of your hand slow momentarily, but you quickly recover your speed when Nat tugs at the hair on the nape of your neck, reminding you that there's an end goal to this.
"Mm, my bad." You murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of her lips, "Your mouth is very distracting."
Nat rolls her eyes, "Yeah? Then maybe you should be somewhere it won't distract you." A half-grin twitches itself onto her lips, and the hand on your shoulder presses down, "On your knees, ideally."
"Just say you want me to eat you out." You lower yourself onto one knee, "Saying what you want is hot." Nat grins down at you and runs her fingers through your hair as you get down on your other knee, "Don't need to say what I want. You're already doing it."
You roll your eyes at her as you press some gentle kisses to her inner thighs, humming when she parts them for you. "Maybe." A small nip to the soft skin, "But I do enjoy you telling me what to do."
"Oh, yeah? What, you into being dominated?" She laughs lowly, "Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind."
"You say that like you plan on doing this again." You take one of her legs and hoist it over your shoulder, pausing a beat, then taking the other leg and repeating the motion. "Do you plan on doing this again?" Nat gasps when you have her sit on your shoulders, fingers tightening in your hair, "Fuck, you keep pulling shit like this, and I just might keep doing it."
A grin graces your lips, "That so? Guess I'll have to keep you coming back." A chaste kiss to her clit, then you're delving your tongue into her cunt, greedily slurping at the wetness that's collected between her legs.
Your fingers dig into the meat of her thighs, holding her against your face, encouraging her to squeeze your head like a goddamn watermelon. You could, quite honestly, die happy with your head where it is right now.
Nat is rolling her hips against your face, your nose brushing against her clit as your face remains buried in her pussy, obscene sounds echoing against the walls, and you aren't even sure when the shower clicked off, but you are aware that it makes the two of you much more audible.
You'd pull your head back to tell her or move one of your hands to swat at the button to turn the water back on, but you get the feeling she could care less how audible what's transpiring between the two of you is.
So, you try to put that into the back of your mind, letting the sounds of your mouth against her and Nat's broken gasps act as fuel for the way you fuck her with your tongue.
It's a handful of minutes before her breathing becomes more stuttered, her grip on your hair starts to hurt slightly, and you don't think she would let you up for air if your face were literally turning blue, but that's okay.
In fact, it's more than okay, considering you feel her pussy pulsate around your tongue as a whimpering moan breaks from her throat, hips continuing to rock against your face for a few more seconds before ceasing.
"Fuck." Her fingers run through your hair, as if serving an apology for the way she was tugging on it. "You're fucking good at that." You shoot a lazy grin up at her through between her thighs, which were effectively acting as earmuffs. "I aim to please. Happy that my goal was met."
Her head falls back against the wall as she laughs, "Yeah. Now, put me down."
"Mm, sure you can stand?" You tease, nipping at her thigh again.
"Positive, asshole." She rolls her eyes fondly, "Let me off."
A dramatic sigh parts from your lips, but you relent and help her get her feet back on the ground, "Fine, fine." You stand back at your full height, looking down at her slightly as you lean against the wall, "But I really wasn't done yet."
"Yeah, well, I was. I'm not in the mood to get caught by someone in here." She shoves your shoulder, causing you to take a step away from her. "We both got off."
You click your tongue, "Seriously? C'mon. Don't be like that…"
"We can get off more later."
"Oh?" You quirk an eyebrow, "That mean I'm coming back to your dorm?"
"Well. That was fun." Nat ignores the question, pushing off the wall and hitting the shower button again. "Now. I need to finish showering. You staying or leaving?"
You scoff, "Staying, I guess." You spare a glance down at your soaked clothes, "Gonna be soaked the whole walk home, anyway. Not in the mood for that walk."
She laughs deliciously, "Oh, trust me; if I have anything to say about it? You'll be soaked at home, too."
A beat. "And you said my dirty talk was terrible."
a/n: ok NOW crush act two part one next fr fr
#nat scatorccio#natalie scatorccio#natalie scatorccio x reader#natalie scatorccio x you#nat scatorccio x you#nat scatorccio x reader#natalie scatorccio smut#nat scatorccio smut#yellowjackets#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets x you#from the cutlery drawer#spoons (fics/blurbs)#steak knives (nsfw)#im putting this here bc i dunno how many people click “read more” on tags#BUT#i almost gave one of the characters a peen#not saying who#(but you probably know who)#just to piss the transphobes off#teehee
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thoughts on tn's game:
-so that's what you call putting belt to ass btw!
-omg our offensive and defensive depth. i literally cheer.
-paige, sarah, and surprisingly kc masterclass. she just pulled that one out idek what i witnessed tn
-but getting kc to be more aggressive offensively is gonna be so huge for us. like she's a shooter and we know this getting her to be more confident and playing like this every night. so much potential
-like can we get azzi more touches? having the ball in ur hands and not passing it to azzi fudd is the work of the devil. not passing as much to azzi also puts a lot of strain on p as well bc obv she's gonna have 2-3 defenders on her when she shoots so maybe not passing it to her only would help a lot?? azzi has many defenders on her as well when she shoots they're both offensive powerhouses but! having both of them on the court at the same time is obviously going to create some mismatches for our opponents defense because obviously you can't contain BOTH azzi and paige.
-anyways what im trying to say is we need to have a better basketball iq, read, and know who to give it to in each possession.
-yall we are so lucky sarah committed to uconn. i thank god everyday. her being so unstoppable just makes our front court as beautiful as it was today
-ALSO JANA STEPPING IT UP? she moved me today ngl. she wasn't playing a whole bunch but im glad to see her getting some confidence and learning how not to foul.
-ice not moving me i fear. but she's not starting so ill hush. i love my girl tho, even when she's on one sometimes
-azzi dropped 30 in my mind so idec. but i think we don't appreciate her abilities on defense enough. she locks people up, picks their pockets, causes turnovers. my most beautiful complete and all around basketball player 💕
-i'm proud of paige. yall know me. im really seeing so many glimpses of her aggressiveness and it's making me so giddy. the best thing about her is that when she's hot offensively one night, it sets the tone for everyone around her. they weren't lying when they said she makes people around her better. also glimpses of hopkins p with those passes. i fell to my knees.
-wanna brag on mo and kk for a second. i love how they're organized on the bench. having them off the bench pretty soon is always gonna be a help for us. mo's ability from each side of the court is so mature and it's so put together for her only being a freshie. she is a little aggressive and can be a foul trouble risk but that's easy to fix. i love the way she's able to facilitate and set easy layups for our bigs. she impresses me every game. MY GIRL KK!!!!!! she's been showing out honey. she knows what her job is coming off the bench. how fast she is and how she gets to rim is so important to us. i'm glad she had to play a lot last year i think it made her so much better. another great facilitator and defensive player. like to see her shoot more three's but she'll get there. but eeeyup i love my team.
-overall, very proud of everyone today. they showed out and showed everyone they can be national champions. and we can if we play this smooth and together, my team will go so far 🙏
#uconn#uconn women's basketball#uconn wbb#wcbb#uconn huskies#paige bueckers#azzi fudd#wbb#sarah strong#kaitlyn chen#morgan cheli#kk arnold#ice brady#uconn vs villanova#basketball#ncaa
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ARGUING / CONFRONTATION 101: HOW TO NOT 'GET OWNED' OR 'GET CAUGHT' IN ALTERCRATIONS.
Little miss don't read How To posts over here
For starters I hope by now you know people do not argue to exchange ideas they argue to measure deek size and find out who is the alpha. Its neverrrr about what's right its about WHO is right. My go to is just don't get caught in one? But sometimes you do sometimes you can't not. In my usual chaotic way I'll just dump everything I know you figure it out by yourself.
Let's take hypothetical situation- you got caught in a lie. Because I refuse to believe a fully grown woman will be caught in a push and pull about opinions I refuse to accept that. You're past 16 grow up. The way people work is the easiest way to establish power is to publicly disempower someone. What Candace Owens did. You find someone with power (and everyone has power) , you disempower them publicly you take some of that power. Because power is transferred not created. so people constantly try to find faults in others and when they find one BINGO they got you BUT. BUT. You see that thing Keke Palmer did with Usher and her baby sperm donor? That's power. That's refusing of letting go of that power. That's what I want to teach you, how to not get owned. (PS, I looooooove liars but don't lie if you don't have to, and I'll teach y'all how to lie so you stop sabotaging yourself). SO I caught you in a lie. I make a public show of 'calling you out' on it. Fully expecting you to stand up for yourself by going into defence so I can actuallyown you and in a sweeet sweeeet sweeet public play that will make me the big dog and you just a pathetic lying little bitch. Remember when I told you I'll teach you how to people???????? MOOOOOOOOTHHHHHHHHHERRRRRRR KNNNNNNNNNNNNNNOWWWWWWWWWWS BEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSST. First. Never. Ever. Ever. EVER. In your entire life. Jump into defense. Don't ever get defensive it's better to go down with your pride. Can you see a lion defending itself against a rabbit? Exactly. The politics of the jungle work like this- you're either prey or predator. In this survival game we call life- you NEVER . EVER. EVER. Want to signal you're prey. We don't run. We don't hide. We don't defense. Sometimes we really are prey but even then we play tactical defense. What do we do in our hypothetical situation here?
Exaggeration. This is my favorite go to ever. Its when you take the bait but in a way that makes them look bad. In a uh huh uh huh way. When there is no tangible evidence and it's your word against mine, whoever goes into offense / accuser will always have the upper hand because a) you can not prove a negative. Law girls will tell you you can not prove that you did *not*. Two offense is the power point and it's already taken so now you have to fall into defense. And defense is already powerlessness. By being accused, you've already lost. So you can take it, but too far that it loses meaning.
Example; I accuse you of say, sleeping with someone. You can't prove that you didn't. So I hit you with the oh I heard you spread your legs for x so you could get this. And you just- sigh. Lean back. Slap on your most bored face. Sip your coffee. Say yes actually I did. Him and his dad and your dad and my dad and triple orgy with the Oligarchs of Russia. We have tapes on the black market. Wait have you ever done ab Eiffel tower? X and your dad did it and I went all night then they gave me this Y thing that I'm obviously not smart enough or capable enough to get by myself because I'm obviously some dumb blond girl yes you're right Andrew can I work now or do you want it in writing. Yes you're right. And I'll fuck them all plus you if you want for this other thing I want that I'm again not smart or capable enough to get by myself as you can tell. Can I wear my earpods back. I need to visualize fucking Enhypen for a ticket, as a girl like me does. Is there anything else you want from me? Video essay?? My soul? What?
2. Yes. And? Yeah I did now what? Why? Because the power of accusing or argument is to make you look smaller and to make you ashamed. When you're not, the cards are reversed. Now they get to feel the shame. Same scenario - you slept with X for Y. So they make a scene about it. First, it doesn't matter of it's true no one cares about the truth. It's not about truth it's about power. You've been alive long enough for this. Soo it doesn't really matter if you did or didn't. So you sigh. Plug one side earpod off. Sip your coffee. Nod. Say nothing, give them the most blank stare ever. So you accept? You nod again. Look at your watch. Look at their forehead. Then neck. Then waistline. Then shoes. Then back to forehead. Then back to your watch. Then eyes. Then arch a brow. Say nothing else. Whatever they say, you nod. Let them trip over their words looking to make you feel guilty. Say nothing outside one word answers. Or simple nods. Actually no words, just nods. Cross your legs. At some point get your earpod back on and go back to work.
3. The whatever you say my guy tactic. The talking to a 9 year old tactic. The awww you little guy!! Tactic. The get them off their game tactic because people that come in accusation come with power, so making them look infantile takes it all away and they have to struggle to get it back. Same accusation, you go- in a soft voice, an awww voice - ah is that so? *Turn to your laptop* when was this? And I was in the room? Wait I was doing the hanky panky? Does he know about this? Oh, that sounds good I guess *sip your coffee* sorry, when exactly was this? Ahhh I see. Okay. So *pause, scroll a bit* sorry, where were we? Oh yeah. Yeah okay I guess. Is there anything else you needed cause I *look at them* wait sorry. What again?
#Again I had points#Again I lost focus for a SECOND#Moved in with the new rich and felt my gold digger flow right back#So I'm back bitches
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Letter from Donald Sutherland to director Gary Ross, after reading the script for "The Hunger Games"
Dear Gary Ross: Power. That's what this is about? Yes? Power and the forces that are manipulated by the powerful men and bureaucracies trying to maintain control and possession of that power? Power perpetrates war and oppression to maintain itself until it finally topples over with the bureaucratic weight of itself and sinks into the pages of history (except in Texas), leaving lessons that need to be learned unlearned. Power corrupts, and, in many cases, absolute power makes you really horny. Clinton, Chirac, Mao, Mitterrand. Not so, I think, with Coriolanus Snow. His obsession, his passion, is his rose garden. There's a rose named Sterling Silver that's lilac in colour with the most extraordinarily powerful fragrance — incredibly beautiful — I loved it in the seventies when it first appeared. They've made a lot of offshoots of it since then. I didn't want to write to you until I'd read the trilogy and now I have so: roses are of great importance. And Coriolanus's eyes. And his smile. Those three elements are vibrant and vital in Snow. Everything else is, by and large, perfectly still and ruthlessly contained. What delight she [Katniss] gives him. He knows her so perfectly. Nothing, absolutely nothing, surprises him. He sees and understands everything. He was, quite probably, a brilliant man who's succumbed to the siren song of power. How will you dramatize the interior narrative running in Katniss's head that describes and consistently updates her relationship with the President who is ubiquitous in her mind? With omniscient calm he knows her perfectly. She knows he does and she knows that he will go to any necessary end to maintain his power because she knows that he believes that she's a real threat to his fragile hold on his control of that power. She's more dangerous than Joan of Arc. Her interior dialogue/monologue defines Snow. It's that old theatrical turnip: you can't 'play' a king, you need everybody else on stage saying to each other, and therefore to the audience, stuff like "There goes the King, isn't he a piece of work, how evil, how lovely, how benevolent, how cruel, how brilliant he is!" The idea of him, the definition of him, the audience's perception of him, is primarily instilled by the observations of others and once that idea is set, the audience's view of the character is pretty much unyielding. And in Snow's case, that definition, of course, comes from Katniss. Evil looks like our understanding of the history of the men we're looking at. It's not what we see: it's what we've been led to believe. Simple as that. Look at the face of Ted Bundy before you knew what he did and after you knew. Snow doesn't look evil to the people in Panem's Capitol. Bundy didn't look evil to those girls. My wife and I were driving through Colorado when he escaped from jail there. The car radio's warning was constant. 'Don't pick up any young men. The escapee looks like the nicest young man imaginable'. Snow's evil shows up in the form of the complacently confident threat that's ever-present in his eyes. His resolute stillness. Have you seen a film I did years ago? 'The Eye of the Needle'. That fellow had some of what I'm looking for. The woman who lived up the street from us in Brentwood came over to ask my wife a question when my wife was dropping the kids off at school. This woman and her husband had seen that movie the night before and what she wanted to know was how my wife could live with anyone who could play such an evil man. It made for an amusing dinner or two but part of my wife's still wondering. I'd love to speak with you whenever you have a chance so I can be on the same page with you. They all end up the same way. Welcome to Florida, have a nice day!
Source
Been thinking about this a lot, mostly in regards to his notions on power.
But it's also quiet cool that he basically predicted the plot of TBOSAS before it came out. Snow's obsessive tendencies. The way he thinks love makes him weak. How he sees Katniss as like himself.
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hey I'm not a coward like prev anon I want to hear more abt aragon and denethor old man yaoi
Well now don't call them a coward they were very nice and polite, it WOULD be surprising to see people shipping Denethor with anyone if you'd only seen the films BUT whilst I cannot give you anything particularly satisfying I will once again be recommending Hands of the King, the Denethor/Finduilas magnum opus fanfic by Anglachel which also manages to represent the kind of insane codependant boybestie what's-gayer-two-men-having-sex-or-whatever-the-hell-these-two-have-going-on dynamic between Thorongil and Denethor that I highly favour.
Like Denethor cannot stop dressing Thorongil for one, they have romantic trysts on rooftops at night, they stare into each other's eyes for minutes at a time, they play insane psychologically fucked mind games with each other, they are literally pretending to hate each other whilst secretly being so close they regularly read the other's mind, but even when they can't they will put their lives and futures and priorities fully in the other's hand even when it looks like they will be betrayed and trust it's a ruse and it always is, they love to verbally spar, Denethor is pretending not to know who Thorongil is even whilst he plots with Finduilas on how to make a home for him, how to make him stay, how to make him feel needed and welcomed.
Part of Denethor's early heartbreak with Finduilas is because his inner logic is 'obviously Finduilas is in love with Thorongil and not with me, everyone would fall in love with Thorongil', Denethor also regularly compares Finduilas and Aragorn like the things that he loves in Finduilas are also within Aragorn from his perspective (this is some really cool gender stuff too like Denethor's nickname for Finduilas is literally 'Prince' and their respective assumed gender roles within their relationship are decidedly flipped, Denethor is the more nurturing parent whilst Finduilas is far more pragmatic and ordering etc they're so t4t) BUT THE POINT IS! They are too catholic to ever consciously admit any romantic attraction so they have to divert that energy into absolutely absurd behaviour and the most intricate rituals known to man. Yes of COURSE Aragorn tenderly dresses Denethor's wounds. Obviously.
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Have you seen the rumors Carlos and JCF are splitting up
literally just saw this - i feel like this is a pretty standard kinda rumor to come out of an ""early"" loss so no idea how credible it is. early heavily scare quoted for reasons below.
also saw a rumor that alcaraz sr. is the one who wants the split which, IF true, would make sense—if you're looking at this from his pov, your kid is an adult who doesn't need hand-holding any more and now it's time to think about the direction of his future. (this is kind of what i was getting at with that one ask reply a while ago, about what would happen if carlos hit a sustained slump—that there's a lot more factors in play, and a lot more riding on his career, than just his own personal feelings.) plus, like, with zero disrespect to either juanki or alcaraz sr. intended, it's unlikely that they have always agreed 100% because humans don't usually do that, and this is the type of situation where you suddenly start remembering all those times you didn't. even if they weren't actually that significant.
but i've said before that i don't see a split happening unless carlos hits a major slump and this isn't a major slump. it's just not lol.
i'm a lot more sanguine about AO results than many tennis fans (not necessarily on tumblr) seem to be. i don't really think carlos going out in QFs to novak djokovic on a fast hard court is that shocking. and i think that 1) talking up the career slam and 2) the relative ease of his early round matches set unrealistic expectations.
novak got in carlos' head for sure (favorite quote about this: "limped one-legged into his brain and scrambled it from the inside") but he's been getting into the heads of older, better, more experienced players for the last 20 years. he did this to roger fucking federer all the time! and somehow a 21-year-old with a middling record of mental/emotional control is supposed to already have the answers? if anything i thought carlos did much better managing his mentality than he would have in the same situation, say, last summer. he wasn't playing the best game—he was pretty lost tactically—but he wasn't losing control of himself, either. that "i want to smash my racket but i'm not gonna" moment was the worst of it. he was still hanging in there and working to get his play back on track. it was just too late by the time he did.
like yeah man i think carlos DOES need to beef up his team tactically. juanki's strength is clearly like... coaching the player as a whole person. less solving complex tactical problems on court. but my read on carlos is that he still needs that element in his support system and i have a hard time believing someone else would be any more effective handling the mentality piece.
lots of words about what will probably turn out to be another rumor generated by some fans' wishful thinking lmao. but tl;dr new coach talk is premature and tbh carlos could quote-unquote underperform at roland garros and i would still not be inclined to read too much into it. if he doesn't do well at wimbledon? then we'll talk.
#whoops guess this is also my qf analysis#but srsly the way so many people had carlos as the overwhelming favorite really surprised me#like putting the evil yaoi aside for a minute. i spent years of my life rooting against the other guy and got NOWHERE with it.#did we all just... collectively forget the entirety of the 2010s#i figured carlos had the edge bc of physicality and the injury seemed to bear that out at first#but if anyone could figure out how to account for that. well. lmao.#novak will stop being a danger once his body completely fails him and not before. it's the hard truth.#ask#carlos alcaraz#juan carlos ferrero#novak djokovic#ao25
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Heeeyyyyy it's me again lolll, sooooo have you checked out love and deep space (otome game with fighting monsters)? If not then you should, there are many hot characters there, i was rereading you paternal privileges and thought that "oh this is so zayne(one of the characters from love and deep space)" cuz if he's going to have a twisted side this really matches him well
Yeahhh, heyyyy. Prepare for unstructured Fang Dokja rambling.
Glad to see that you're also enjoying and reading the other stories. Paternal Privilege vibed more in Ao3 than in Tumblr, but I personally liked it as well. One of my first sex stories in general. Got lots of practice in it. And, in Ao3, people loved the ending haha. Thanks for sharing your input on it. It's appreciated :))
OK. I knew I'd get this question one day. And, I know some of you are Love and Deepspace (LaDs) fans (and also K-pop fans, especially you guys, I don't know why you're following me ahahhaha, but it's welcomed. Sorry, don't know much about K-pop like I hardly know DC).
OK SO! Of course I know this game! I played the game it was inspired by, Mr. Love Queen's Choice for more than 3 years! DADDYYYY VICTORRRR. I still have my account, whahhaha. Yes. This is bringing back memories.
And in Love and Deepspace's early release, like official first day, I was there! So, yes, I've played it.
Playstyle and graphics were cool. And, as a competitive gamer in general, ofc it was right up my alley. A bit clunky at first release, needed some adjustments, but generally good. It was way better in terms of graphics than Mr. Love, especially the interface and menus.
Though, I'd say what turned me off is I related more to the MC of Mr. Love than LaDs. Didn't really vibe with the MC of LaDs, a bit too emotional and outspoken for my tastes. Felt ENFJ (sorry, can't relate AT ALL to ENFJ's and ESFJ's especially) not gonna lie hahhahha. But, it's been so long since I played, so sorry if I get details wrong. Anyways...
I was just not vibing with the MC, and low-key plot as well. But, then again, maybe I expected too much. It usually happens when I do. I get so excited than it falls short of my expectations, and then I'm like ehh. So I just low key turn off my brain. It's also to prevent myself from spoiling myself. You have no idea how many times I've unwittingly spoiled myself in ANY fandom! It's genuinely unreal. So, it's like I have to stop thinking so I don't ruin those "huzzah" or "woahhh" moments for myself as a reader or audience.
Ok, back to the topic.
Why am I not making yandere content on it? Simple.
Because of this RULE:
Some characters remind of me of real life people too much, like for example, most “soft” and “green flag characters”. Reminds me of my friend’s boyfriend. And that person is gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. It’s fricking weird. But in general, most reasons I don’t write certain characters is because it reminds me too much of people I know in real life.
My friend and I don't share stories. AT ALL. That includes any fandom, manga, anime, manhwa, video games, etc. There are some exceptions, but usually we have separate fandoms.
So, when I introduced this game to share with my friend. Majority of the characters, from the graphics to their behavior, fit my friend's boyfriend more. Reminded her of him more.
Didn't really find anyone that reminded me of my husband (only 4 main guys before). I do play games, or do anything really to spend time with him. And even in things like this, I do this so I can analyze my husband, think about him and brainstorm, etc. Just basically husband simping for me.
So, in conclusion, probably not gonna talk a lot about Love and Deepspace. And besides, I don't think the MC is like me anyway, so it's fine. I just have to not look at ANY fanart, 'cause man IT IS EVERYWHERE. I have to LITERALLY avoid it like the plague so I don't tempt myself.
Uh... I have a gaming addiction. HAHHAHAHA
Sorry, but strict rules being obeyed here as well in the friendship. We DO NOT SHARE STORIES. End of story. Hope you guys understand, though.
Yes, we're weird.
WARNING: The information below is just extra husband simping. Proceed with caution.
God, I am waiting for official international release of this game ESPECIALLY (when it comes to otome games):
My LORD, I will waiitttttt. If it's possible to release, Your will be done!! haha
As you can tell, I'm weak to muscles ahahahahahahhahahaha. Why? I love my husband so much, he's so handsome. I am weak.
OSBORN I JUST KNOW IT'S OSBORN aghhhh. especially him. But seriously. huuu well, my husband doesn't like talking about himself with anyone else besides me, so just have to use "analogies" like characters lollll.
Though, none can compare to my husband, of course. He's leagues above anyone else huuuuuuu. I love him so much.
I also told you guys. I relate to these memes. VERY. VERY. VERY MUCH.
You have no idea.
WAHAHHAHAH.
*exposes self*
But, I just love my husband so much. So, so, so much.
Yandere! Stepfather & Stepdaughter
Novella 1 : Paternal Privilege
He’s your family, but he doesn’t act like it.
🔞Pleasure in every strike, pain in every kiss.
🔞In the end, love is both their salvation and their damnation.
🔞His love is suffocating, but she’s forgotten how to breathe without it.
🔞Love shouldn’t feel like drowning, but he’s the only one who can save her.
She fell, but not by accident. He made sure of it.
#fangdokja rambles#fangdokja answers#love and deepspace#lads#lads zayne#lads sylus#lads xavier#lads rafayel#love and deep space#lads mc#love and deepspace mc#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace sylus#otome game#english otome#dating sim#video games#gaming#games#videogames#retro gaming#game recap#author things#author thoughts#fanfic authors#author notes#writerscommunity#male yandere#mr love queen's choice#mr love victor
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Bofurin Parent Hcs 1
It's no surprise Nirei is a doting father. What is a surprise, is how into planning his daughter's birthday parties he is. From the moment she could pick out her own stuff, he's been keeping track of her likes and dislikes. He's also incredibly serious about participation. Even Sakura can't get away without wearing a tiara at the four year old's Princess themed birthday party, complete with live ponies and adorably mismatched tea sets. He's just as serious about his former bofurin member's children's preferences though, making him the perfect person to go to for gift ideas for any occasion. His intel usually comes from overhearing stuff during play dates and even his own children who've learned retaining information like that has its perks.
⏜︵⏜︵⏜ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏜︵⏜︵⏜
Umemiya loves to sing, hum, whistle - you name it. Whether he's good is another question. Regardless, he's been singing to his kids since they were in the womb (or at least since they were adopted depending on the preference.) He has his toddlers singing in the car with him, their tiny hands waving to the music as they babble. He's the loudest at every birthday, belting out half decent notes as his kids giggle. When they get older and practice for a play, guess who's reading lines and dueting everything? You got it, this guy. Also voted most likely to do the craziest/messiest crafts and activities with his kids. He has no fear of the clean up. Sticky fingers? He's unfazed. There was a line drawn at one point that scissors had to be handled by adults only though, Umemiya's sudden bald spot on the back of his head making Kotoha nearly pass out laughing.
⏜︵⏜︵⏜ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏜︵⏜︵⏜
As I've said before, Kaji is a bit...protective with his kids. His child has a crush? He's got eyes and ears on the ground seeing what's up about this kid. One of those dads that hates new partners his kids bring home and doesn't do a thing to hide it. By the time he's older, he's pretty much kicked the lollipop habit to only needing them 50% of the time. Once his toddlers start asking for them, he buys the sugar-free kids kind, not wanting to give them cavities. Will eat the flavors his kids don't like, especially if they hand it to him. Hiragi's Kaji's chosen godfather and for good reason. When his teenagers get in a fight with their father, they go to Uncle Hiragi for advice, knowing he won't judge them and equally gives them perspective. Little do they know Kaji called him about the same thing a few hours before.
⏜︵⏜︵⏜ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⏜︵⏜︵⏜
For some reason I think Tsugeura would be a great girl dad. He embraces however girly they want to be while also letting them practice shoulderlock tackles on their stuffed animals. His kids end up having his confidence and persistence, making quite the whirlwind when they're all together. One of those you-can-hear-them-before-you-see-them families. This guy definitely ends up coaching at least one children's sports team - not even necessarily wrestling. Suo shudders to think the day might come where his child wants to play on the soccer team Tsuge coaches if only because he'll be forced to talk to Tsuge at least twice a week for hours at a time but really the team ends up being a great social and physical activity. He has a bad habit of tearing up when a kid gets so much as a scratch or bruise during games/matches though.
#smh im so unoriginal with titles but it is whar it is#wind breaker headcanons#taiga tsugeura#nirei akihiko#umemiya hajime#kaji ren#i might do togs and sakura tmmrw...maybe some others#i didnt check it for spelling or grammar sowwy#its 11:45 and i have work tomorrow yolo tho
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get to know people
ty for the tags @milla-frenchy, @sunshineispunk, @iamasaddie, @tateypots 💛. I'm tagging you 🫵 and no pressure tagging 10 of you: @dark-scape @quaritchscupquake @whateverloomis @megangovier @xdaddysprincessxx @covetyou @romanarose @aurorawritestoescape @bitchesuntitled @noxturnalnymph sorry if you already did it.
I feel kinda vulnerable (and yet boring at the same time) talking about myself, but one of my goals is to let people know me as more of a person. 🩷
what's the origin of your blog title?: I have a taste for toxic characters, and i was hastily picking a url that would give me more anonymity. this old buzzword floated into my head from 15 yrs ago--I get a kick out of buzzwords that fizzle out so fast they become associated with a very specific point in time. I got the URL on an impulse and figured I could change it once I thought of the perfect url.... Meanwhile I've had plenty of asks and stalkers who themselves embody the old buzzword's meaning: the way a veil of anonymity emboldens hate and toxicity. I just wanted my veil to write porn, man.
favorite fandoms: impossible to say. too many factors.
OTP(s) + shipname: Michael Myers & Corey Cunningham (cunningmyers). it's a deep and fucked up bond, very dark and sexually charged. (Cue father figure 🎶) In my HCs I don't imagine anything soft, affectionate, or monogamous. it's pining and worship from Corey, dominance and dark energy from Michael and his monster cock. And when they kill together, god I love that.
favorite color: depends. My electronics & cases are blue, and I like to wear soft blues. also brown and olive green to wear. Black & salmon/peach: god tier combo.
favorite game: scrabble, trivia, jigsaw puzzles, nyt spelling bee, W.E.L.D.E.R., crosswords, guessing games. I've been trying to learn how to play poker which is great entertainment for @dark-scape.
song stuck in your head: none but I make up songs for my cat and I was singing one earlier about how sweet and nice she is. update: take me to church by hozier
weirdest habit/trait?: idk, really.
hobbies: lounging, research and learning, going to movies, watching miniseries, walking, writing but mostly in my head, taking elaborate baths, reading. getting organized this yr, minimalizing, donating things I don't need. would like to get back into candle-making and painting or clay sculpting.
if you work, what's your profession? Pass. I do work, though.
if you could have any job you wish what would it be? It would be cool to make a living off writing. But, ideally get rich with minimal effort and then financially support an animal sanctuary so I could go chill with the animals whenever I want. also, publicize & investigate missing persons cases that don't get enough attention.
something you're good at: finding four leaf clovers. Cobbling together cosplay from thrift store finds. having ideas. character development & world building.
something you're bad at: socializing, but I want to do better. I'm shy to begin with and some of my experiences here haven't helped. But I promise I don't bite. I'm also bad at staying focused, keeping an uncluttered mind, second-guessing my story plans and not ending them.
something you love: having a pet. I feel so lucky to have a (not so) little furball who enjoys my company and has a personality and lets me take care of her.
something you could talk about for hours off the cuff: not usually super talkative. hmm. predictions about the year ahead - love to hear peoples' thoughts on this (sports, pop culture, archaeology, food & makeup trends, etc.). unsolved mysteries.
something you hate: I don't wanna get anyone worked up with a rant so I'm just gonna say canned spinach. Haven't had it since childhood but I can still taste it
something you collect: I'm not sure I collect anything. I keep a lot of greeting cards received with photos.
something you forget: what I came in the room for, why I opened the app, just about anything.
what's your love language?: little gestures (gifts/acts of service), praise
favorite movie/show: here's my letterboxd
favorite food: fresh pasta w/ olive oil and fresh parmesan
favorite animal: too many to list
what were you like as a child? pensive, curious, loved the circus and Halloween. my mom likes to tell the story of when I was 18 months old and an old friend of hers came to meet me and I explained what a parallelagram was and it freaked her out.
favorite subject(s) at school? English and Spanish
least favorite subject? anything that was straight memorization. But I wish I tried harder.
what's your best character trait? I care about people
what's your worst character trait? easily distracted and forgetful, can be slow to respond, recovering perfectionist
if you could change any detail of your day right now what would it be? That I had to do any work at all
if you could travel in time who would you like to meet? a big, hot guy who captures me but won't kill me if I escape to come back to this timeline.
recommend one of your favorite fanfics (spread the love!):
hounds of hell by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy 🐨🙏
some more favorites
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Title: Reflections of Memories
Fandoms: 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei, 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV)
Relationships: Gen (Iron Triangle + Liu Sang)
Summary:
Just about everyone has heard stories about the Iron Triangle. They’ve been together for at least twenty years, back before there was a giant hole in the sky and before the Inquisition was formed to try and fix it. In those days Wu Xie was a travelling historian who roamed the continent looking for rare stories to fill his ever present notebook or items of historical interest so that they don’t get lost to the passage of time or the ravages of war.
Waking up isn’t the gradual process that regular sleep is. It’s almost like the snap of a finger. One moment he’s asleep, and the next he’s awake.
“Jinx, if you don’t wake the fuck up soon I’m going to—”
Liu Sang throws out a hand and erects a barrier before he’s even fully finished processing the fact that there’s now a fight happening around him. Pangzi is shooting fireballs and jets of flame in every direction, standing a couple of feet in front of Liu Sang.
Protecting him.
Liu Sang scrambles to his feet, grabbing his staff along the way. They’re not in the chamber they’d been in when he’d fallen asleep. He’s not sure where he is, in fact. But what he is sure of is that they are currently being attacked by what sounds like giant spiders. The Emerald Graves are renowned for them and at least they’re easy to kill. The problem is they don’t seem to be stopping.
“What happened?” he yells as he throws up another barrier when the first one fades into nothingness.
“Tianzhen, of course,” Pangzi snarls as he puts a wall of flame between the barrier and the spiders. “I don’t know what he touched but he definitely touched something. I think he’s opened a nest of these things.”
Pangzi is swaying slightly on his feet, clearly reaching the point of exhaustion. How long has he been standing here keeping Liu Sang safe? And where are Wu Xie and Zhang Qiling.
Those are questions for later. He grabs a mana potion from his pack and hands it to Pangzi who swallows it down with a gulp. He seems steadier now, which is good.
“Where’s the nest,” Liu Sang asks. “I can help!”
“Up ahead,” Pangzi replies. “Tianzhen and Xiaoge are trying to find out a way to close it or do something.”
This is something Liu Sang can help with. His magic isn’t particularly useful when it comes to fighting but there are other things that it is good for and not just visiting the past in his dreams.
“Cover me,” he says to Pangzi and darts forward before Pangzi can argue with him. There’s a rancid smell of charred spider corpses, some of them still twitching as they burn. The few that are still alive make a beeline for him as soon as they spot him, but Pangzi quickly takes them down.
Up ahead he can make out the shapes of Wu Xie and Zhang Qiling through the haze of fire and smoke.
“Move!” He yells. There’s no time for pleasantries. He’s already gesturing with his hands, gathering stone, wood and any other natural debris scattering on the floor with his magic. When he has enough materials all it takes is a flick of his wrist to erect a blockade which effectively seals the opening.
Read the rest on AO3
#my fic#dmbj#dmbj gen exchange 2023#iron triangle#liu sang#some vaguely implied pangsang#because it's me#you don't really need to have played the games to read this#dragon age au
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a bioware game tradition datv def carries on for me personally is that i just don't vibe with any of the comp/comp or comp/npc ship they cooked up.
#altho i should say that i am glad we get a wlw ship and a mlm ship respectively#at least i don't have to read abt how emmr*ch is actually straight like with g*le#but looking at the characters and their characteristics#l*canis and n*ve are bland as all the coffee talk#also to me it's weird he'll romance n*ve who picked minrathous too just like a rook might#who is then locked out of the romance#str*fe and emmr*ch feels like the devs going#ok emmr*ch is older#who is an older char we can pair him with#and the single one char in emmr*ch's age range in the game is str*fe#whether or not they interacted before or have any similarities#'a man like that needs romance' does he tho emmr*ch#you never talked to him how would you know#and t*ash and h*rding is... yeah#'you smell good'#ok.jpg#i'm trying to remember if i ever liked a comp/comp romance before and i don't think so#i think it's wasted resources tbh#this is not hate to any of the involved individual chars btw#just critical of the decisions made#rose plays datv#text: personal#datv critical#i mean not really but you know#datv spoilers#da4 spoilers#tbd
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fwee top 5 things i had fun with this year :-)
#*begins talking to myself in my tags like a freak*#since reikoumi retired i have thought about zuka less than ever before in my zuka-knowing life. i used to think about REAL women EVERY day#i miss being in love with reiko. being loopy about a REAL person......damn...what was that even like...so distant (happy birthday to her)#my zuka obsession wanes & waxes through the years. it's fine. peaks were 2014 (first saw it live) 2019 (lived there) 2022 (reikoumi reign)#fields of mistria is really cute and fun....i love it a lot more than stardew. i love my crush....i love baking..feeding my golden rabbits.#i've played it for like 70 hours and it's not even out of early access....PLEASE UPDATE IT!!! I NEED MORE FISH TO CATCH! NOW!#edgeworth game was lovely. i actually was thinking of narumitsu as much as orufrey for a while. Whoa. but i never drew those ideas...#VEILGUARD....WAS STUPID FUN FOR ME. my personal and romantic little adventure :)#falling in love in a game isnt the same as when you already know you'll love a character. it's UNEXPECTED. keeps you young.#orufrey.........ya know the deal. They are my life.#the only thing that distracts me seriously from orufrey is when i think not of their love but MY love.....in video games.#runners up were dragon age 2 where i also fell in love. i immediately spat out so much art about da2 and veilguard LOL#i discovered various media that wasnt included here too..read some good manga..etc#i made several personal comics this year (the wha oc one and the Wolf one) and a lot of.. semi-personal art like my veilguard oc#i'm slowly learning to express myself artistically in ways that arent orufrey...... next year..i want to achieve various things....#i don't know what i can really manage any more. but i'll try a bit harder. just in CASE life can still be good..#OH AND I DID BG3 HONOUR MODE...bg3 was a 2023 thing but the first half of this year i was also just soulfully playing bg3. saved me#the second half of the year was actually better even though i got sick. Weird. anywayyyy *ceases talking to myself*#i pray for health and safety and peace for everyone and for my dreams to come true.
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