#is thay still an active tag?
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Lol I saw this thread from Twitter floating around about Geralt's pants being historically inaccurate but y'all forgot
My man's stretched the leather too much and it doesn't come back to it's og shape 🤣🤣
Henry's dick is just so big and his ass so round that they couldn't use leather because it was too hoey
This has been a PSA
#geralt of rivia#henry cavill#the kraken#is thay still an active tag?#the witcher#the witcher costumes
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#should be revising but now I'm contemplating if thay good old happy family i thought would be a good idea in some 20 years time is still a g#ood idea anymore#like#unreal unearth really making me want to break someone's back and simultaneously join some world healing activism like#musik#hozier#unreal unearth#ethel cain#preacher's daughter#that album constricts my blood vessels and freezes the grey matter in my brain. in a good way.#penelope scott#queen#not the freddie mercury one#public void#now i have the right mind of tagging every suggestion coming up in my tags
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AITA for faking my death to get out of an abusive relationship?
Tw for verbal + mental/psychological abuse and suicide
I used to be in a discord server with some friends, there were about 40 people in it, only around 20 who were actually active. It was a while ago I can't remember. I was in that server for about 4 months.
From the start, people would occasionally get mad at me over something I didn't do. About every month or so someone would start a rumor about me and make the whole server gang up on me, I'd tell them it was false, but everyone would still avoid me for the next couple days.
I never did anything wrong, but I was always the center of the drama, and when I asked one person, R, why, he said he didn't know and that I didn't deserve so much hate.
About a week later R was talking in the vent channel about how I had manipulated him. I DMed him to ask why, and he told me it was because I asked him if he was my friend. I thought it was fucking stupid because it's not manipulative to be paranoid, but I pretended to be sorry because I didn't want him to be mad at me.
The server also had a bot where you could submit anonymous messages, and lots of people would use that feature to make up things about me to ruin my reputation.
After a while I left the server and only stayed in contact with a few people. However, every couple days another person would tell me I'm a monster and gaslight me into thinking I'm a terrible person, and every time I asked why they hated me they didn't give me an answer.
My only real friend, T, showed me some messages from the others after I left the server, and a bunch of people were making up stories about bad things I had done to them, and people who I had never even spoken to were saying that I had abused them and was dangerous.
Once someone told me thay they understood all the things R had said about me weren't true, but said it was still my fault anyway, and even told me that R had done nothing wrong (he lied about me in front of the entire server and is the reason I lost all my friends, and he yelled at me and called me evil because I was suicidal), and then they accused me of faking having amnesia because I had flashbacks.
Eventually, only four of my "friends" hadn't blocked me, and they almost never talked to me. Everyone kept calling me a terrible person because R spread lies about me and everyone else believed him instead of me.
It was to the point where I couldn't go one day without someone sending me death threats or trying to guilt trip me with false information, and I was getting very sever flashbacks of the stuff R had said to me, and I started failing classes because I couldn't focus on anything.
Eventually I had had enough, so I tagged them all in a tumblr post about how I was going to kill myself and then logged out of both that tumblr account and my old discord account forever.
(Also about a month after I had left, I got texts from irl friends, and it turns out someone on the server found the contact info of people I knew in real life just to ask if I was dead or not. And that scared the shit out of me.)
I've left out a lot of details of the abuse because of amnesia. I have a mental disorder which makes it hard to remember things, plus the brain often blocks out traumatic memories, so I'm sorry if some info feels missing.
The only reason I feel like I might be an asshole is because once I was gone, all of them switched targets and started to harass T. They said they hated him for being on my side, and sent him death threats on anon because he was mad at them for killing his friend. They started treating him the same way they treated me, and called him a horrible person but refused to give a reason as to why, and if I had stayed around they would've left him alone.
@should-be-dead (made a sideblog so I get notified when this is posted)
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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝟒𝟐! 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Lovers have secrets of their own, no matter how much they come to trust each other, whether it be a past mistake or an unspoken trauma. For you and Miles, however, your secrets came in the form of hidden identities— one being a masked vigilante, and the other a mastermind.
Genre ೃ⁀➷ Forbidden love, mutual pining, angst♡
Tags ೃ⁀➷ Both are artists, reader is from a very wealthy family, both are living double lives, underaged smoking, reader is female and uses she/her pronouns, forbidden love (ish?), swearing, daddy issues, mommy issues, reader is unhinged, both are mentally unstable, lots of flirting.
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ l went through like a fuck ton of shit [Broke up with my boyfriend of two years, entrance exam, and uh I lost some friends] and 2024’s barely started lol sorry for the late update, i am,,, extremely deep in hurting 👍
Tag list ೃ⁀➷ @sakura-onesan @coffeeandtealol @luvjunie @noetophat @proudgojofucker @depresssedcowboy @adorefavv @l0starl @your-girl-mj @nyumeii @iheartamajiki @yoluv-tiannaaa--212 @bakauwu @callsignwidow
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐎𝐧 𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Miles and Eddie make an exchange. A certain nightmare plagues his thoughts. Your insanity unfolds, and so does Miles’ suspicions.
[Warning: Blasphemy, mentioned of fucked up things and crimes, deranged thinking]
MASTERLIST
Previous chapter || Next chapter
“Miles, what would make you hate me?”
The memory was so long ago. Well, to be exact, perhaps it’s been a month or two since it happened. Miles could still so clearly remember the way you leaned your head against the damp wall, your eyes far off into the void of whatever haunted you. At that time, his feelings had been but a spark budding within his chest ever so delicately, a butterfly ripping out of its cocoon in his stomach.
“I don’t know.” Miles whispered into the air. “I don’t think it’s possible to truly hate a person when you know them personally.”
At that moment, you looked at him, with your head half-buried within your hood.
“Why’s that?” You asked, fiddling with the ends of your hoodie.
Miles took a moment to think about how to word his answer.
“When you recognize someone enough to know that they’re not evil people who’d do random shit for shits and giggles, you learn to realize that they’re not really a monster.. At least, not as much as they seem.” His lingering gaze travels towards the ample of your cheek. “I can’t hate you when I know you. You’ve got a name, and you’re somebody’s sister, daughter.. Well, you don’t have to be all that. You just need to be somebody, and you’re somebody to me, and that alone’s the reason why I can never hate you.”
“That’s.. Interesting.” You whispered. “So technically, you humanize your enemies.”
“That’s one weird way to put it, but yeah.”
“But what if it’s a façade?” The words rolled off your tongue seamlessly. “What if.. They’re not exactly the person you thought they were. What if they’ve done more harm than good?”
He thinks about it for a moment.
“It’s not my job to humanize people. People humanize themselves.” Miles answered. “If there’s truly nothing at all about this person that makes them human, or makes me feel like they still have a relatively active conscience inside of them.. I can’t.”
“So you’re saying thay if they’re not human, you’ll hate them?”
“No!” He rapidly shook his head.
“No, ‘cause Miles, I’ll be fair with you. Ion think there’s anything more monstrous than humanity. We are our own enemies. Nothing else causes more pain to a human other than its own body or its own kind, which is why hatred is such a natural thing.”
“Hatred is a natural thing for you, because you grew up only having to think about yourself.”
“Because if not me, then who would?” You spewed. You didn’t mean to sound overtly bitter, but you were. “Unlike you, Miles, my family ain’t the shit. It’s me against the world always— I-If, had I gotten a remote opportunity to care about anyone other than myself, maybe I wouldn’t be this hateful.”
“Well, you got a chance now.”
“How so?”
“You got me.”
You paused, wondering if you’ve heard correctly.
“… I’ve got you?”
Whatever did that statement mean? You’ve heard about a million pick-up lines, but what the hell was this?
“F’course you do. We’re friends.”
Friends.
“Friends?” Just friends?
Miles hums. “Buddies. Amigos.”
Ah, right, that’s how it always starts. Just friends.
Miles snuck his hand into one of his pockets, plucking out something round that you were too lost in your haze to even notice. He seems to fiddle with it for a moment, digging his fingers into its plush before nudging it towards you.
“You want some?”
You turned around and realized he’d peeled you an orange. “.. What.. These are so expensive these days. How’d you even get one?” Your hand reaches out for the fruit, examining its tiny size. You’d heard about the sudden inflation of prices, so fruits inevitably turned into a luxury for most. Miles parts the mandarin and places the larger half on top of your hand.
“.. I stole one from my neighbor’s garden. God did say generous people prosper, so I did him a favor.”
“I’m pretty sure there was a ‘thou shall not steal’ in one of the commandments, Miles.” You laughed, plopping a piece atop your tongue. The tangy, sweet, yet sour flavor bursts right in, making you grimace ever so lightly. “Oh, that’s sour.”
Miles took after you, similarly cringing. “Eugh.”
“It’s probably not all that ripe yet. It’s fine though,” You plopped another into your mouth. “I like oranges— sour things as a whole. They snap me back into life.”
“That sounds sad.” He mumbled, turning to look at you. “Kinda worrying, if you ask me.”
“Well, I wasn’t asking.” You plucked out one of the seeds from your teeth.
“Right, ‘cause you never ask.” Miles took another bite. “You only answer.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know.” Miles shrugged. “I like saying random shit to tick you off.”
You rolled your eyes, trudging your way up from the floor as you staggered from the cold. “Thanks for the orange, Miles.” Running a hand through your hair, you looked out and sighed. He couldn’t help but feel surprised at the lack of your sass.
“You’re welcome, princesa.”
Your brow cringed. “Don’t call me that.”
His finger twitches. He watched as you froze for a moment, turning to look at him. With gentle steps, you approached and leaned down— tufts of your hair brushing against the temple of his forehead. At that moment, he swallows while taking in the scent of your perfume and its ridiculously sweet stench. How could everything about you be so sweet?
You plucked your pen out of his hands. “This is mine.” You reminded of him. Miles didn’t utter a single word til’ your eyes met. Even in the darkness, you saw, but you ignored— well, rather, you tried to ignore it, but it stung.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
Miles turned his head, forcibly pushing down the butterflies fluttering like haywire in his stomach.
Hands clammy, heart haywire, eyes unable to meet yours.
“Sure, whatever.”
That day ended there, but Miles knew then. He knew.
Eddie Brock couldn't look past the television store, as his eyes were drawn completely to the news. Not that he couldn't afford a paper, or a gadget of his own— he was simply nervous, figdety, and this ominous pit that holed itself into his stomach unnerved him like a pig carved up for the butcher. He'd known of the news already, honestly, something along the lines of the daily murders and crimes that weren't all too unusual to be fair, and rather than the screen's bright technicolored themes, he was hyper focused entirely on one thing.
The face of Will Barlowe, the almighty senator. Eddie had long been staring at that man's creased, brown skin and slick, blonde hair that was fading into this falsified shade of platinum all because of his whitening strands.
Damn the rich, all of them.
Eddie was no one, like everyone else. A drop of water in the ocean, a needle in a haystack. He was one, like the rest, with the hard workers who carried the economy with their white, blue, pink-collared jobs. He thrived, initially, three years ago. He was an activist then— a journalist in a crisp collared shirt and black dress pants, warning the young about the dangers of climate change, and speaking outwardly in regard to politics.
Now, he was nothing more but a wrinkled jacket-wearing, eccentric and amusing conspiracy theorist scraping the tiniest bits of his dignity to post videos on Facebook or Youtube shorts about how fucked up and dystopian America's grown to become.
When the Prowler, the younger one, decidedly linked him a location allegedly shared by the elites, Eddie wanted to think of it as a chance to shine, to end everything once and for all, and to avenge Anna. For Anna, and for what could’ve been their happy, serene life. But when he arrived, painstakingly clad in plaid while forging the identity of a lost tourist, he was disappointed entirely to find out that the warehouse had been burnt down.
He could still recall the charcoaled crevices of what could’ve been his salvation— that masked boy, the Prowler, promised him salvation in a what-could’ve-been some rich guy’s attempt of a house barbecue.
“Did I make ya wait long?”
A voice reminiscent of a growl. That same shade of neon magenta lingered, popping like a change of color in the melancholy of great Harlem. Eddie tries not to look, but the presence of the boy simmered like fire even as he hung like a spider from the ceiling. He was always like that— the Prowler. The boy was a tall, lanky thing who walked and talked suave. Dominican, he initially assumed. Eddie figured this little vigilante was likely a high schooler with hopes consequently dimmed by the recession.
“Nope.” Eddie attempted to appeal cooly, instead, he only crumbled more. “I’d been watching the news this whole time, tryna check if there was anything about the fire.”
He hears a metal click. “They prolly wouldn’t say nothin’. See, if they didn’t wanna hide it, it’d be all over the television. But it ain’t there, so that means the Chávez’s are hiding the fire from the other families. They prolly paid the witnesses to keep their mouths shut or bribed all the television networks to say it’s some barbecue party gone bad.”
A few passersby couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of the infamous vigilante hanging from a store sign, but they all seemed to know better than approaching him. Trouble was wherever he was, after all, or something the daily bugle said along those lines. They shared glances, sure. Curious, amused glances like how people would marvel at a lion in a zoo.
“It’s,” Eddie finally looked at him. “it’s something ‘bout the Chávez’s?”
With a momentary pause, the Prowler released his grip from the metal poles and dangled down for a second before decidedly letting his feet hit the ground. He was tall— truly, around an inch or two taller than grouchy Eddie. His braids seemed much longer than he’d last seen them. Did he recently get them redone?
“.. That’s right.” Prowler hummed. “.. But we might wanna move some place else to have this conversation, Mr. Brock.”
And where the cat went, curiosity followed down as it made its way to the dark alleyways.
Eddie had a million questions, like any other normal being. The Chávez’s, the Primos, the Barlowes, the Fisks, the Osborns, and all of the other wealthy families connected to one another were all listed down on his kill bill naturally, and he’d been dreaming about the day of crossing out their names with ink made from their blood. Cliché, but a threat either way. Eddie wasn’t a writer, but a journalist anyways. Creativity in terms of wording his hatred was limited and it wasn’t his forte.
“In your past facebook post, you mentioned the Chávez’s briefly,” The boy began, halting by the corner dampened by rain. “I need information about the whole family.”
“… Aren’t you supposed to know the basic information about your enemies?”
“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be needing your help.” The two white shapes that proxied as his eyes narrowed, grimacing ever so lightly. “There’s little information about them in the black market, and within the scarcity, most of them aren’t factual.”
“They’re rich enough to be able to squander their wealth on silencing people,” Eddie kicked at a can. “Of course no one knows, but I do.”
“How so?”
Picking at something in between his cheek, Eddie sighed a long sigh.
“… My wife worked as their private attorney.”
He watched the boy take a step back. “.. Your wife?”
“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “My wife, Anna. She was taught to keep silent about their crimes, and to find a loophole in every case.” A lump formed in his throat.
The Prowler stared. He couldn’t make out whether it was an empathetic or judgmental one. “.. So your wife covered up the Chávez’s crimes?”
“A part of it.” Eddie mumbled. “There’s more to the elite than we know, Anna had to burn her files after every case, so she couldn’t snitch or post them after she quits.”
His head turns. “… I see.”
He sees the boy shift, weirdly, fidgety. He couldn’t particularly describe the unease this young vigilante conveyed. It was almost like he was on the verge of asking something, but his mask made it harder to read what he was desperate to know about.
“.. So can you tell me?”
A simmering silence sunk into the gaps of their conversation.
“What’s in it for me?” Eddie asked, knowing he shouldn’t have, as it was obvious and painstakingly accusatory.
“Why do we have to have transactions when it comes to justice?”
Eddie paced. “Capitalism.”
“Fair point.” The Prowler sighed, rocking on the ends of his neon shoes. “Well, what d’ya want?”
Eddie thinks, and thinks. What could a conspiracy theorist— no, a journalist want? Could he ask for a man’s death? The head of Barlowe? The head of Chávez? Or could that only be achieved after this gamble? He looked at this boy, and Eddie pictured this teenager basking his hands in blood.
What would make him any different from the elites?
“… When you went to the warehouse, you guys.. Took evidence? Even a USB, right?”
He stared. “Yeah, we dug it up and we tried sending it to every news outlet we could find.. All of them rejected the information.”
“Why?” Eddie furrowed his brow. “Was the information incomplete? Did you send the evidence beneath a credible name as a source?”
“Credible name?”
“Yeah, if the information comes from a credible source, they might do something about it. Likewise, if the information is complete, they might take the risk, after all, the Chávez’s are old money, and they have a lot of influence in regard to politics. If they publish anything against them, without complete information, or if you’re just a bunch of trespassers regarded as criminals by the media,” Eddie held out a finger. “Someone will get shot.”
The boy swallowed.
“If not you, if not your partner, it’s the journalist. Always the journalist.”
And Eddie’s seen too much of his co-workers wound up as mere victims in a headline. ‘Journalist shot dead.’
And he didn’t want his name to be reduced to a John Doe in one of the many causes people are too afraid to fight for.
“… I’ll tell you all about the Chávez’s, if you give me the records you stole from the warehouse.”
The Prowler stood, seemingly caught up in his thoughts for a moment. “.. Okay, but I’m telling you, don’t make a large move without consulting me first.”
“I still want my head attached to my head, of course I’ll consult y’all first.” Eddie chuckled, his fingers pouring into his pockets. “Then, what do you want to know about the Chávez’s?”
Without missing a beat, he answered.
“You can give me all you got. Recent scandals, fuck ups.. Perhaps, you got anything from the collapse of the Aureum building three years ago?”
“The Aureum building,” Eddie echoed, reminiscing like a veteran released from war. “That was the messiest thing I’ve ever witnessed in the last ten years. The lawsuits, the bribes, and the social media mayhem—“
“The deaths.” Miles cringed, remembering his father. “Surely, that was the most fucked up thing.”
“Aside from the architecture? Sure.” Eddie pulled out a box of cigars from his pocket, wringing out a single stick. “Weak scaffolding, quick-dry cement.. Put two and two together, and everything collapsed as soon as the opening began.”
Miles wallowed, grimacing at the sight of the habit. “Could it have been planned?”
With a flick of his lighter, Eddie took one breath in and sighed. “Could? There’s no ‘could’, boy, it was planned.”
Planned? Planned by who?
Were the Chávez’s really masters at self-sabotage? Or were their enemies really just each other?
“You see, the Chávez’s specialize in human trafficking, slave trade, and child labor. The people they ship work tirelessly for other businesses without a fee— because we, you and I and the rest of us who had the freedom to earn education, refused to work under hellish circumstances and poor environments. Without us, precisely, without the poor, the rich are nothing.”
“Then the Aureum building?”
“The Aureum building was a cover-up for a bigger scandal.” Eddie tilted his head. “The people inside were likely witnesses, or people who knew about the human trafficking.. And when the building collapsed, they sued the construction companies involved, got the money, but damaged their reputation.. And I don’t see why they’d do all of that just to damage their reputation.”
Miles pondered and pondered.
“.. It was probably someone from inside the family who planned everything.”
“That’s what I think so too.” Eddie added, blowing off another puff of intoxicating smoke. “Someone who won’t suffer from the damaged reputation.. Yet someone who still manages to benefit from it all financially.”
“… Could it be.. Any one of the siblings?”
Eddie takes a step back, likely thinking about it. “.. Well, the other one’s in London, the other one’s too stupid, and the last’s a minor.”
“Minor?” Miles repeated. “How young are we talking?”
“.. Well, the last time I heard about the girl.. She was thirteen, and it’s been three years since then, so she’s probably fifteen to sixteen.”
It’s not as though a thirteen year old could possibly plan out such a meticulous plan… Well maybe, or maybe not, it’s not as though Miles was the only genius capable of great things.
“You know any of their names?”
“Names.” Eddie furrowed his brow. “The last girl’s protected by the law, since it’s illegal to paparazzi minors.. But the first two are Montrell and Anthony.”
Montrell. Mon. Three children. Two older brothers. One girl. Sixteen, sixteen years old just like you.
Miles swallowed.
It’s as though he could feel your hands blocking your vision, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.
He falters, alerting Eddie. “What’s wrong?”
“.. My head just hurts.” He mumbled, turning his head. “I think I kinda overworked myself. I still got a date.. Need to.. Rest.”
“Date?” Eddie blew. “That’s right. You’re quite famous, ain’t you?”
Miles rolled his eyes, able to freely express his distaste for the supposed compliment behind his mask. “I try not to be, don’t wanna make her think about it too much. The broad shoulders don’t help as much, though.”
“She know all ‘bout your..” With his cigarette squeezed between his ring, Eddie gestured at him. “Your little vigilante thing?”
Leaning his head against the brick wall, Miles crossed his arms and shrugged. “She better not. Don’t wanna make her daddy even madder.” He lowers his gaze a bit, his mask naturally zooming into the title of Eddie’s cigarette box. It was the same brand as your brother’s, likely a different flavor. Mint or something. Everyone around him smoked too much.
“She from the finer part of York or what?”
“The finest.” He recalls your brother’s luxury car. “.. But I think she’s tryna hide it.”
Eddie plucks the cigar out his teeth, a sort of accusatory yet mundane expression scribbled all over his scruffy face. Eventually, he laughs it off. “That’s all of what’s wrong with our society. The poor pretend to be rich and the rich pretend to be poor. They like romanticizing poverty but likely won’t be able to find comfort if they walked in our shoes for ‘bout a damn mile.”
“She ain’t nun like that.” Miles butted in. “She’s sweet, my girl. Cruel, sometimes, but that’s how ladies gotta be from time to time— seeing as how the world fucks them up every now and then.”
“.. That your first date?” Eddie asked.
“I guess. We’re kissing, but we got no label.”
Eddie scoffed an old man’s scoff. “Your generation’s got me fucked up. Y’all and your situationship bullshittery.”
“It ain’t like that.”
“It’s always like that.” Eddie narrowed his eyes. Miles similarly cringed, wondering how Eddie could be so bitter— having to remind himself seconds later that the man’s poor wife was dead. Dead as hell. As dead as his father. “If she can’t even be upfront about her wealth, she’s likely hiding something from you.”
“My man, I’m lucky she even looked my way. You know nun ‘bout her, don’t be like that.”
“And what if she’s from the oligarchy, huh?” Eddie exaggerated. “What if she’s a Fisk? A Barlowe? Hell, even worse, what if she’s a Chávez?”
Miles didn’t reply.
As the puff of smoke emanated through the damp air, suddenly, Miles pictured you holding a cigarette while grinning at him wickedly— and somehow, that tantalizing air.. Suited you like the slip of a glove.
“I’m just kidding w’ya, man.” Eddie laughed, flicking the cigarette away, crushing it with the sole of his wrinkled boot.
“Ain’t funny, Ed.” Miles grumbled. “People I loved died in Aureum.”
“But she’s still rich, though. You can never be too sure ‘bout the kind of secrets her family’s keeping. If push comes to shove, will you still be able to love her if you do find out that her family’s fucked up?”
“Stop it.” He angrily seethed. “Stop.”
Eddie watched with a certain stank in his eye.
“… Y’know, there’s a rumor that one of the Chávez kids are illegitimate.”
.. Miles left seconds after.
It’d not been his greatest day, and earnestly speaking, his gut’s been clamoring at him to listen, only for him to reject its pleas. He’d thought about listening— to whatever higher being was calling upon him to stray away from you.
His Mama told him to pray throughout his struggles. She’d not been a zealot, his mother. But she was no stranger to the novena, to pray and to call for help in such long days. He’d been subjected to it early on: the novenas, the masses, the lingering of frankincense in the air. Though she never truly coerced him to participate in the church, Miles simply titter-tottered throughout those dull Sunday evenings.
He didn’t want some higher being to stop him from becoming a horrible person; Miles wanted to be good on his own accord.
But you.. You made him question. Not you, but himself.
Though his dad always told him to question everything while he’s young, Miles couldn’t question you. How could ever question you?
An illegitimate child. Which one was it?
Your brothers, who had everything?
Or you, who had nothing?
And although Eddie left the alleyway unscathed, Miles felt that blood had stained his hands.
And you could still taste blood in your mouth.
You could still hear the crunch of that man’s neck echoing in your ears, his tiny pleads of self-preservation before the snap to his death. It rang and rang behind your eyes, between your ears, like a haunting melody you couldn’t help but repeat.
The memory of his fear merely energized your veins, but left you gawking in dauntness even as you worked your way through the hotel— showing Montrell the ropes and tending to the preparations for the upcoming charity event. The snap, the way it snapped— the way his neck snapped was a musical lyric that pulsed and pulsed in your mind.
Snap.
Snap.
ＳＮＡＰ.
The idea of fear intrigued you, cannibalism, however, not so much. The symbiote immensely argued with you, that it wasn’t your body in particular feasting on human flesh, but the symbiote itself. It needed to be fed, and it needed sustenance— but you didn’t know where else to find that sustenance.
“Miss?” Charlotte, the head housekeeper called out to you, snapping you back from the profanities of your mind.
Suddenly, you’re back staring at the new, tall, stained-glass windows— basking you in the glory of pale lights in shades of ethereal yellow and blue. It’s been under construction for quite a while now, but after your father had approved of the idea, you were willing to wait long enough to see its outcome. You’d only gotten the news just a few hours ago in regard to its completion, and now you’ve been staring at it for a while now.
“Yes?” You stifled airily, wallowing in a hundred emotions.
Charlotte bows her head for a moment, unveiling an approaching guest.
Before you could even process to question who it was, Montrell and his gentle eyes appeared before you. He seems to marvel at the windows before you as he takes another step up the stairs.
“Wow,” He huffed. “Is this.. Your design?”
You simply looked at the window with crossed arms and a smile. “I couldn’t forget about the windows when we went to Veronica’s wedding. I liked.. The colors and the drama it endowed.” You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “.. This was my final project in the hotel.. I’ve done so much to rebrand everything, but we still can’t do much ‘bout what happened in the past.”
The lights dawned upon the both of you.
“Does it hold any special meaning?” He asks.
You shrugged. “It varies on the person, I guess. I think, those who don’t really know me will try to put meaning into all that I do, but those who really know me know that my art is plainly.. Meant for aesthetic.”
Montrell frowned. “How can you make art without passion?”
“.. You pick up a pen.” You carved a smile. “And you just draw.”
You draw, and you draw. Carved it in, like how a knife would pierce a sack of flesh. Murder the canvas with each stroke, and if they ask you ‘why?’, answer with ‘why not?’.
“I think.. Only Miles can place meaning in my art. After all, my passion resides in him.”
“Like a proxy.” Montrell darkly laughed, shaking his head. “.. I wonder how hard you’d break once you lose him.”
You turned your head to look at your brother’s charming face.
“Is that a threat?”
“A warning,” He remarked. “After all, how could he ever love you once he realizes that our family’s responsible for his father’s death?”
You turned your head back to the windows. “… I feel guilty, actually. I don’t really know how to approach Miles if he ever comes to realize my identity.”
“.. Don’t you feel lonely having to constantly push away the people you love?”
You shrugged. “I’m a pretty girl. Pretty girls are never lonely.”
“Sure.”
Montrell looked at you. To be precise, he eyed you, and he looked at the way you casted your eyes downward. From a mile away, one would believe you fostered insecurity and shame in the way you’d stare, but knowing you and the way you were, that downcast gaze of yours imbued disinterest and a heightened sense of.. Superiority.
No matter how hard you try to appear empathetic, you were always and inevitably still a Chávez. Even in the way you pursed your rouged lips, or spoke with eloquence, or held your head high.. You and your siblings, who were forged to become heartless from the beginning, were never bound to be kind.. Or good.
But could Miles do it?
Could he actually change you? Humanize you?
Make you kind and loving, and normal?
You tightened your grip over your arm. “I.. Was going to escape tonight, originally.. For our date. He wanted us to have a halloween date. It’s so dorky. He’s so dorky.” The way you fawned was genuine, though. He could see it so clearly. “But after daddy mentioned the USB, I didn’t know how to face him without feeling guilty.. I came to meet Miles with the intention of using him to get his dead dad’s stuff but I ended up.. Falling for him. I never knew I was capable of feeling like this.”
“.. When we’re too busy to survive, it feels frustrating to have to care for someone else. That’s why our family doesn’t feel like one.” Montrell whispered.
“We’re not a Greek tragedy.”
“Exactly, which would mean,” He turns to you. “You’re likely still savable, [N/n].”
You lightly winced. “.. I haven’t heard that nickname since I was twelve.”
Your brother chuckles at the reminder. “.. We called you that since you couldn’t pronounce your name when you were three.” Montrell heaved a long breath, as though he were a dreamer reminiscing the times. Ah, he truly is a sucker for what’s long gone, huh? “Antonne and I were so excited to have you. Your first word was my name, actually, Mon. I had to sneak up into your cradle every night just to make you practice say my name. Mama used to hold you in her arms whenever I got home from school, and she used to read out my cards with you in her other hands ‘cause you were one energetic kid.”
Oh, so like a normal family?
We were capable of having that this whole time?
…
“[Y/n]?”
You snapped yourself back to reality, Montrell’s voice leading you out of your internal monologue. “Did you hear my question?” He queried. “You kinda zoned out there.”
“Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout something. You were saying?”
“Once you get the USB.. Are you going to leave him?”
The question seemed far fetched from the previous topic, which caught you off-guard. You turn your head. “.. I don’t know. I’d rather make him hate me, and have him leave me first, because I don’t think I can ever bring it upon myself to leave him.”
Such a romantic.
“Do you think you can handle it?”
“.. It’s not a question of whether I can handle it, it’s a question of whether Miles can handle it.”
Montrell murmured. “.. What if he gets revenge?”
“Revenge?” You repeated, the idea sounding funnily dramatic. “Revenge on me? I didn’t throw that building over his father’s head.”
“Ah, yes, but there’s a thing called karma.” Montrell spoke as thought to remind you. “It’ll be out there to get you, or at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
You couldn’t help but aimlessly ponder. “… Why do poor people believe in futile things such as karma?”
The way you worded it, and the way it exited your tongue seemed unusually natural. Montrell, who’s been too used to such words, only shrugged. “Cause there’s nothing else to save them. That’s why they have a god, [Y/n]. They can’t save themselves, and so that’s why they believe something otherworldly will.”
Before you could speak, Montrell looked out into the glass windows before turning to you.
“Speaking of which, I think you should use daffodils for the upcoming party.”
“.. Daffodils?” You repeated.
Your brother nods. “Yes. I find them to be quite lovely.”
Since when did he have an interest in flowers? You internally squirmed. “Where the hell am I going to get daffodils in autumn?” You groaned. “We can use other yellow flowers for the golden theme.”
“Well, you’re not in charge anymore.” Was his attempt of a tease. “Surely there are still daffodils here in this season. We’ll have to find the best greenhouse in town.”
“But why?”
“Because I said so.”
You sweetly casted a glance at him, smiling as a thought crowed at you.
A sharp pain shoots through Miles’ head. A pulsing, familiar pain— resembling a bullet, dove straight into his subconscious.
He stumbles back as darkness clouds his vision, a sort of slithering and slimy feeling coursing through his system like a snake seething beneath his skin. His heart was hammering against his chest. It was like that time during the warehouse, where he felt genuinely uneasy and unsettled. The eyes of that figure behind the window, watching him tremulously stare back.
In the cage of his mind, Miles finds himself inside a dark void— where the silence was loud enough to hear the sound of a pin drop.
Then there was this drumming.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The melody was unfamiliar, but the voice nostalgic. Miles crawled amidst the darkness, searching for the voice, only to look up and catch the sight of a pristine, delicately made shoe. It kicked against the front of a desk, making a rhythmic pattern. Thump. Thump. Thump. With each passing moment, his eyes continued to linger upward, from the shoe, to a leg, to a waist, to your pretty face.
You sat there, above the desk, with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes, puckering up your pretty lips along with the song. You were so idly calm, so leisure while singing so softly, he could hardly make out the words exiting your mouth. A dim, green light cascaded against the silhouette of your figure, further accentuating the pink of your lips and the darkening of your gaze.
You smiled, but your eyes held nothing. Like you never knew what kindness was, even in his presence. You never looked at him like that before— like you hated him enough that you wanted him to die.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The thumping was growing faster and faster with each second. Upon seeing his struggle, a stifled laugh laces the lyrics.
Miles tried to move, but his whole body writhed in pain— like he was beaten, defeated. His arms itched in burns and scars. With the sound of your hum, Miles looks up, only to see you cross your arms before your chest, the tip of your shoe gently grazing against the skin of his temple. He feels as though he was being watched, idly, by an audience that had no interest at all in intervening. Like everyone was amused to see him.. Kneeling before you.
Click. Click. Click. The cutter clicked in your palm as the blade rose higher.
It’s like your presence alone was enough to blind him, and his conscience kept crawling back to you no matter how hard it tries to stray.
Really, who are you, [Y/n]?
Why was it whenever you lingered in his dreams, you were the cruelest person to exist?
And why was it that Miles knew that he’d probably still adore you with your hands around his neck?
“.. Miles?”
From a gentle shuffle, Miles awoke to the sound of his mother’s voice.
Miles jolted up, his skin half drenched with cold sweat. Unfortunately enough, his awakening was nothing avian. On the contrary, his awakening felt like a somber chore. The material clung onto him like glue, making him utter a groan. For a while, he helplessly looked around like a child lost between rows of linoleum aisles, his mind hopping from question to question. 'What just happened? What was I dreaming of?'
Like some hungover drunkard, he gently peeled himself away from the sweat-stained sheets and begrudgingly sat upright. Rio’s gentle hand cradled his aching head.
“Rest, mijo, you’re exhausted.”
“Mama, I—“ He broke, running a damp hand over his head. For a moment, he flinches, checking to see if his hands were covered in blood. “What happened?”
His mother’s dark curls lightly brushed against his temple. Her eyes were just as exhausted as he was, with dark circles rimming the doeness of her gaze. “I got home to you taking a nap but you kept squirming. I was so worried. Que paso?”
He looked around, realizing he’d dropped himself unconscious atop the sofa.
“.. Nightmare.”
Night terrors, to put it precisely. It’s been haunting him since the death of his father three years ago. He thought they’d long vanished after meeting you, but after his suspicions arose, his anxiety came crawling back like a dreadful stench.
Rio handed him a glass of water, to which he gulped down to its very last drop— like he’s been thirsting for all his life.
“Mama,” He called out. “… What do I do?”
His loving mother creased her brow, shaking her head. “What is it, mijo? What’s wrong?”
He runs his hand over his face, wondering how to begin. At that moment, Miles recalls your sweetest smiles, your loudest laughs, and your warmest hugs.
You held his hand, dragged him out of that maze, and you vandalized the hotel together. You tore yourself away from the expectations of your family, and went to him.
You chose him.
But could he go so far to assume that you loved him?
Rio shifted comfortably, trying to appear more welcoming to whatever catastrophe Miles was about to unleash. “What’s wrong, Miles?”
Miles couldn’t even admit it to himself, though he’d long noticed, he preferred to remain ignorant ‘til the truth was spilled from your own lips.. But he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Blood runs thicker than water, but both feel the same when your eyes are closed— and that could mean many things.
“A lot, ma.” He buried his head into his hands. “And Ionno if I could deal with it all.”
“You don’t have to deal with everything, Miles.” Rio frowned. “You’re only fifteen. Eres demasiado joven. Con el tiempo todo se arregla.”
“Me duele la cabeza.”
“Ponte vaporub.” Rio stood to grab the small, blue ointment. As she unscrews its green cap, Miles was immediately hit with its loud, minty scent. Digging her fingers into the substance, Rio smears the vaporub all over Miles’ forehead. “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.”
He lightly moved away with a sigh. “I’m not a kid anymore, ma.”
“I’m your mother, you’ll always be my kid.” As the cooling sensation sunk into his skin, he felt his mother’s palm cup his cheek. “And since you’re my kid, I always get worried about you. I know we ain’t got nothing much, but we got each other, Miles. You’re a great kid bound to achieve great things.”
He wasn’t too sure about that. That whole great kid thing. You had your fingers entangled all over his puppet strings, and it made him hesitate.
But what if that was exactly your plan? To ruin him entirely for your benefit?
“.. Ma, what would you do if the person you liked lied to you about their identity?”
Rio sat in silence.
“.. Que?”
Ah, fuck. That’s a stupid question.
“Nothing.” Miles turned his head. “Sorry, that was a stupid question—“
“No, Miles. I didn’t mean to— I just, you like someone? A girl?”
Miles shifted uncomfortably. Rio softened. “A boy?”
“No, ma!” He exclaimed, embarrassed. “I-It’s a girl. I like a girl.. Por los clavos de Cristo.”
“Oh, I was preparing myself.” Rio placed a hand over her heart. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d accept you no matter what, I just didn’t have a long wonderful speech prepared for it.. But what’s wrong with the girl?”
“Well, ma, it’s just..”
“Did she cheat on you!?”
“No! We’re not even together yet, ma. We were gonna have our first date today, but.. But her family’s been treating her horribly, and her older brother picked her up while we were out buying costumes for our halloween date only for him to directly tell me that it ain’t happening.”
“And then?”
“She talked ‘bout her dad throwing a fit, and now she hasn’t replied the whole day.” He slipped his fingers through his hair. “I even woke up at six in the morning just to get my braids redone at Tasha’s… And they invited me to a party at their house on Sunday.”
“Sunday? Then— that’s great!” Rio exclaimed, placing her hands over her son’s shoulders. “That would mean they’re open to getting to know you. Well, I think you can borrow some of your dad’s old clothes for the party, you two look great in suits anyway.”
“W-Well, ma, that ain’t entirely the problem, she’s..” He swallowed. “Ma, I think she comes from a very rich family.”
“Okay, and?” Rio raised a brow. “Did she ever make you feel inferior for having superior wealth?”
“.. No? Well, she’s been trying to keep it on the down low this whole time, but.. Whenever I see her, she acts so.. Proper and polite when she don’t even notice it. And her brother’s British too, and I— Ionno how the hell that happened, but he sound like the type to spit out tap water if I ever brought him to a restaurant.”
“Well, you’re dating the girl, Miles, not her brother.” Rio sighed. He thinks of it for a moment, then shrugs. Only then he notices his mother’s wide smile, her shoulder nearly glued onto his.
“So.. Who’s the girl?”
Miles fiddled awkwardly, unsure how to answer. Rio seemed adamant for an answer, so, after a while of internally mustering up sentences, Miles replied. “Her name.. [Y/n].”
“Mhm.”
“She uh.. Sixteen. I-I met her three months ago.. And we started doing graffiti together since then.”
“Oh, so she’s an artist?”
Miles gaped. “S… Sum like that, yeah.”
Your art varied. Your colors were blander while his, more vibrant. But there was something about the way you drew, that was so meaningfully realistic that it captured entirely how your mind pondered in its darkest moments. An art style that captured entirely the darkest of what life could bring.
He remembers going through your sketchpads, how your dabbles consisted of dull realism. Maybe it was only dull because it was exactly what New York’s become— cold and calloused.
But in contrast, you were able to set his world on fire in a way he’s never seen. Only you could paint over the dullness with scarlet, in a way that had him choking from the smoke emanating from your fire.
But he couldn’t tell his mother the way you’ve worsened him.
His mother wouldn’t let him get too close to someone as bright and dangerous as you.
“Why haven’t you mentioned about her before? I could’ve helped!” Rio tossed her dark curls to the side. They’d always reminded him of the dark sea. “Es puertorriqueña? Puede hablar español?”
“No,” Miles thinks about it for a minute. “I-Ionno, actually. She never told me anythin’ bout it, but she can’t speak Spanish so I ain’t sure.”
Rio attempted, no she really did try to attempt— to hide her disappointment. Were her grandkids bound to forever be free of her culture? How saddening.
“Pero creo que ella está estudiando español.”
“Oh?”
“Sí.” Mile seemed to lightened up. “She’s so cute. She can’t even pronounce ‘roja’.”
“But she’s trying.” Rio could not be any happier. “She’s trying! Eso es bueno! Ella ya me gusta. Not everyone tries these days, you know.”
He wondered if his mother was faking her enthusiasm just to ease him. He’d expected her to be more.. Angry about it.
“.. I’m surprised you’re not upset, ma.”
“Upset?” Rio furrowed her brows. “Miles, how could I get upset? You’re experiencing what every other teenager experiences, that’s great!.. I know you’ve been trying to act like an adult to help us, and you’ve given up so much just to keep us afloat. I’ve been getting worried that you’ve been focusing too much with adult responsibilities that you’re forgetting that you’re just a kid. You’re allowed to go around and be a kid. You’re allowed to like a girl— so long as she’s not a bad influence.”
Miles pushes back the thought of you being a smoker.
“She’s not a bad influence. She’s.. Just going through a lot.. She makes me happy, ma.”
Rio looked at him proudly. Only then, she wondered if her dearest husband ever brooded like this too upon realizing his feelings for her. She wondered if Jeff ever pouted the way Miles did, and looked out into the world with such admiration in his eyes as though he were shaping the void into an image of her.
Jeff loved, and thus, Miles could love too.
“If she makes you happy, then I’m happy.” She beamed. “So long as she’s not a brat or an alcoholic, or a racist, or any of those bad people, I’ll accept her.”
The mother shared a loving glimpse of her son, making out an image of her late husband in the way he smiled. Suddenly, she pats her lap and stands up. “Bueno, I’m making adobo.”
“I can help—“
“No, sit down, you’re tired.” Rio held out a finger. “Take a rest, Miles.”
“But Ma—“
“Rest.”
And he did.
Well, he tried. It was a subtle attempt. A poor one, at that. He sat upright by the sofa, listening to his mother chop up the potatoes. He tries to discreetly look into your messages, only to find you’ve finally texted back.
her ♡ || two minutes ago.
sorry i haven’t texted!! 😭😭
remember the party this sunday? my dad is making me help with the preparations so i couldn’t go to our date
i’m really sorry 🥺 don’t get mad
if you want, we can do it tomorrow.
Miles pouted. He didn’t want to reply immediately. He didn’t want to look desperate.
So he waited for another five minutes.
.. Even though you made him wait for six hours.
He switches the television on in attempt to distract himself from your message.
‘Last night, a horrific murder happened within Brooklyn, as the body of a beheaded man was discovered outside of a local bodega. Witnesses claim that an alien disguised as a teenage girl had ripped off, and eaten the man’s head.’
“The hell?” Miles burrowed his brows upon being greeted with the news on television. “An alien?”
He watches as the screen switches over towards one of the witnesses, a scruffy man with reddened eyes— evidently too lost in whatever he was taking to speak too calmly.
“.. They’re prolly high as hell.”
‘I’m ain’t even [censored] with y’all— some [censored] ripped off Kyle’s head— it was a horrific looking piece of [censored] made out of black goo or whatever the [censored]. The government’s [censored] making alien [censored]!
‘So far, there have been no records of the scene, as the cameras had been blacked out.’
“What the f—“ Miles grew mindful of his language upon realizing his mother was in the other room. “How the hell did that even happen!? Blacked out my ass.”
It was more or less, likely a murder related to the elites. One of their kids must’ve been hanging out with those junkies and killed a man for fun.
A phone begins to ring. Miles turns his head.
“Miles, can you get that for me?” He heard his mother, who was too busy chopping up something, call out.
He turns off the television, hops out of the sofa and heads straight into his mother’s room. As he flicks the light open, a king-sized bed greets him with its gray, large glory. He used to jump on that bed too much when he was a kid. Now, it looked.. Desolate, and almost deserted. With how large the bed was, he couldn’t help but ponder how lonely his mother must’ve felt, sleeping in a bed less warmer than three years ago.
Miles passes by the closet, and after foraging for a bit, he manages to find his mother’s phone atop a drawer— swiftly grabbing the gadget before turning to leave.
As he turns, his foot accidentally nudges against a box.
He peers through it, before kicking it away.
Making his way back to the kitchen, he hands the ringing phone over to his mother before curtly returning to the room to close the lights.
But as his hands reached out towards the switch, his eyes were drawn back to the sight of the box.
It looked like it’d been cast aside beside the closet.
Hearing his mother speak over the phone lightheartedly, something about something. Miles trudges towards the orange, cardboard box, kneeling by the floor with a single knee down on the wood. His hand curiously glazes over the top, feeling a pile of dust collect over his fingers.
Hesitantly, he takes off the lid, finding a familiar white, collared shirt. He pulls it up to the ceiling light and watches as it unfolds into a larger sheet.
This belonged to his father’s.
He looks right back into the box, finding a pair of black, dress pants neatly folded into a square. Meekly, he tugs on it, hoping he wouldn’t uncover anything sinister like a severed hand or an eyeball. After pulling the whole thing out, a longer line of black unravels.
A strange array of emotions lingered inside him.
Nostalgia. Wrath. Happiness.
It smelled like dust, and it was forever devoid of its owner’s scent and warmth.
“Miles, do you want juice?”
“Huh? Y-yeah.” He stammered. “Grape juice would be nice.”
His mother’s comment slips past his ears. For a moment, he pondered about wearing this to the Sunday party, but he couldn’t help but think how it likely wouldn’t fit him. His father was a giant, and he was quite lanky.
Upon hearing his mother’s footsteps, Miles hurriedly and clumsily attempts to refold the clothes, only then hearing a soft clatter. He pivots his head to the side.
There was a USB.
“For the florals, I think daffodils would be great.”
Your hands skimmed across the air in attempt of drafting an idea. From afar, you manage to earn a wider view of the banquet hall. Workers left and right helped with tidying up the refectory, scrubbing up windows and mopping up the floors. “It would match the golden theme, don’t you think?” You asked of Charlotte, who nodded wobbly with her dire age.
As of that moment, you’d been preparing for the layout of the party. As much as you didn’t want to listen to Montrell’s suggestion, you figured getting on his bad side would be a bad move.
The fundraiser, originally hosted by your aunt, was planned out to gather enough money to support Senator Barlowe’s projects. Your family was to auction off high-priced materials such as clothes, jewelry, paintings, and even estates for the sake of meeting the goal. Which would also mean that the highest of the elite would be attending the party.
And you were less than thrilled to be its co-host.
Charlotte marvels at your suggestion, taking it with a smile but a pique. “However, daffodils can’t usually be placed with other flowers, so I’ll have to make a special request to the florist to do the preparations extensively.”
You raised a brow. “Why can’t they be placed together with other flowers?”
One of the maids carrying a porcelain vase walk past you, making you gently remind her to put it aside.
Charlotte parts her palms. “They secrete toxins into the water. So whenever it’s placed among other flowers, the rest die.”
“Oh,” You widened your gaze, processing this newly found information. “How did you know that?”
Charlotte blinked, trying to think back. “.. Well, daffodils were used for your mother and father’s wedding. It was a struggle, since the day of the wedding, half of the bouquet had already wilted.”
You stood back in surprise, crossing your arms before your chest. “Mama must’ve been furious.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Your father plucked flowers out from the gardens and made her a bouquet himself.”
Wait. What? WHAT?
Wow, who knew your daddy was quite the romantic?
I’m just as shocked as every other person.
“M-My father?” You dumbly repeated. “My father plucked out the flowers himself? Or was it Mr. Nigel?”
“Your father, himself, Miss.” Charlotte laughed, finding your shock to be quite amusing. “He’s quite great at it too— flower arrangement. Your grandmother taught him from an early age.”
“My father truly arranged the bouquet for him and mama’s wedding?” You couldn’t believe your ears. “He has that sort of talent?”
“Why, of course!” She beamed a warm beam. “Like you, he used to oversee the interior of the hotel. He has great taste when it comes to color, and you’ve inherited that side of him.”
You tried to think about it, your father— who was now an old man with a permanent sneer on his wrinkled lip— arranging flowers in his youth, picking out pastel and cream curtains for the parties, and overseeing the menu. It didn’t seem like something he’d do, at all. Then again, your mother used to describe him in a way that made it tragic.
A good man, never a good father. Torn between yearning to be held in arms that never welcomed him and finding his worth beyond the standard of his own father.
You tried to sympathize with him. Your father.
Though he was who he was, he cared about you, in a twisted, fucked-up way. Your engagement with Richard Fisk was privately decided after the hotel went near-bankrupt had it not been for the Fisks and their mystical talent for cover-ups— and your father simply took most of your managing rights away just so the family you’d marry into wouldn’t use you for their own greed.
The fate wasn’t entirely horrible either. You’d marry into new money, sure, but their wealth would most definitely preserve the comfortable life you’re living right now.
It was your own greed that was worsening you.
Your desire to have a tantamount of power.
But what if you never needed it?
“Miss!”
What if all you needed was a peaceful life? Marry into the Fisks, host parties, and care no more about anything?
“Miss [Y/n]!”
.. But what about Miles?
He hadn’t answered any of your texts yet.
“Miss [Y/n], a call.” One of your secretaries came crashing through the doors with his phone. How you hated that word. Call. A signal of what would definitely exhaust you. Where was Montrell? Why weren’t they calling out for him? Were you really the only one able to handle all the messes in here? Workers left and right stopped as he trudged up the stairs, nearly tossing the phone over to you. You slip it close to your ear, making your way down with each click of your heel.
Charlotte watches as you listen to the caller with such intent. Silently, you eyed your surroundings before heading out.
As you reached the patio, you looked out into the dimming violet evening that was fading out along with the scarlet of the sun. The caller rambles on, something along about the recent incident.
“I’ve bribed the higher-ups to rush the investigation and to arrest the witnesses. We’ll release the story that they had murdered their friend after taking drugs.”
“Good.” You plucked out your vape from your pockets. “Report to me immediately once you find all the records about their families and their identities.”
“Understood.” You hear the sound of Morrison’s computer typing. Likely writing up a list. “I’ve also halted the investigation of the fire. I’ve told your father the information was tracked from an accidental leak after a delivery of the samples to one of the families had the address exposed. Sir Anthony will have to take up the blame since it was his idea.”
You took a long huff. “Good job. You did well.”
The smoke lingers, and you close your eyes.
Sorry, Antonne. You’ll live, I guess.
“Morrison,” You called out to him. “.. How’s Miles?”
The typing comes to a halt. For a moment, the two of you shared a moment of silence. You picture him pushing his glasses up higher off the bridge of his nose.
“.. I’ve spent most of my attention on other things, so I haven’t been able to check up on him yet.”
“Ah, is that so?” You mumbled. “Never mind then, just continue on with halting the investigation. I’ll take care of the rest, and remember, if any of the witnesses start describing my face—“
Clack.
You turned your head.
What was that?
ＳＯＭＥＯＮＥ‘Ｓ ＨＥＲＥ
No shit.
Beyond the gardens, the skies were beginning to dim. That familiar shade of magenta, it lingered like a ghost and it haunted you like your past. There was a click that set your mind off, and suddenly you couldn’t help but feel like the world was integrating itself into a technicolor, dotted comic.
Then and there, spying on you from the top of the six Corinthian columns of the garden, sat the young Prowler.
“Miss [Y/n]? You were saying?” Morrison pried from you.
You parted your phone from you ear, a side of your grin heightening into a catty smirk.
“… If any of them start describing my face, take care of it.”
Then and there, you ended the call with one light tap. You remained stubborn with your posture, seemingly amused and befuddled by it all while keeping your head high. The boy watched you curiously but stiffly, as if he were unsure of what to do. You were mutually frozen, but you couldn’t allow any sort of weakness to seep through the cracks of your confidence.
You took a step close, and he tenses. The sound of your heel clicking against the tiles sends an echo into the garden.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You greeted of him with sincere politeness, placing a hand over your hip. Was it an attempt to appear idle or what? “… It’s quite an honor to have you here as a guest.”
“Who are you?” The boy growled, voice delved baritones deep. “Really.”
You tilted your head.
“Who would you like me to be?”
His gauntlet unfolds, and suddenly, he launches himself at you, grabbing you by the neck.
[A/n: I PASSED MY FUCKING ENTRANCE EXAM GUYS]
#miles morales#42 miles morales#42 miles morales x reader#astv x you#miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#astv miles#astv x reader#astv x y/n#earth 42 miles x you#earth 42 prowler#earth 42 miles morales x female reader#earth 42 miles fluff#astv#earth 42 miles morales x reader#earth 42 miles x reader#miles morales prowler#miles morales x y/n#prowler miles#miles morales 1610#d
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All These Years [Part 16: "The Death of Miscommunication"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
[You can find the full series summary and masterlist of installments for All These Years here.]
Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut
Word Count: 4.9k
a/n: The frustration should mostly leave us all in this one! The gradual comfort and fluff slowly begins from here on out! You survived the worst of the angst and we're going to head towards a happy ending! Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag list: @acharliecoxedfan @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @readerhead @paracosmic-murdock @v4leoftears @why-always-me-gosh-please @redbircl @keepingitlokiii @yarrystyleeza @mattkinsella @ms-murdockswift @margoo0 @1988-fiend @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @justalittlebitbored @am-3-thyst @buckybarnes-1917 @thora-jane @lionalsowrites @cloudroomblog @prince-tassel @danzer8705 @yourlocalbentspine @harperdoodle @hollandorks @mattmurdocksstarlight @yeonalie
“So your grades were finally posted and now it's a literal fact that Karen Page is a goddamn smarty pants?” you teased.
Across from you on your couch, Karen giggled and snuggled further under the blanket you were both sharing. Both of you were cradling a glass of white wine in your hands, the leftover Thai food you’d had for dinner sitting on your coffee table.
Karen’s flight had gotten in about three hours ago and you had been beyond excited for her to be staying the week at your place. Though it felt so strange having part of your New York life in LA, and it certainly meant a particular someone from New York was on your mind a bit more than usual today.
“I’m honestly shocked I did so well with everything I’ve had going on,” Karen told you. “I mean, that was a full class load and I was helping Foggy and Matt at the office part time.”
Something stirred in your chest at the mention of Matt, your smile momentarily faltering before you forced it back on your face. “Yeah,” you agreed. “Honestly when you told me you’d just go down to working part time while taking classes and working on your law degree, I thought you’d finally gone insane. I don’t know how you’re going to keep that up, but more power to you if you can, Kare.”
“Thanks,” she said, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “So you’re still enjoying the new job here?”
You nodded, bringing your wine glass up to your lips for a drink. Swallowing down the slightly sweet wine, you continued to smile back at Karen, though it felt a little strained.
“Yeah, I enjoy the job. Admittedly the pay has had a lot to do with that,” you replied. “And I’ve been enjoying the new city, but I’ve told you that already. The food here is honestly just as incredible as back in New York, but now I actually have the money to indulge in it more often. And the night life is…entertaining, to say the least.”
Karen laughed, drawing her own glass of wine towards her mouth. The glass hesitated by her lips for a moment though as her sharp blue eyes studied you silently.
“You know,” she began slowly, “I’ve noticed you don’t talk about your dating life much out here.”
Your brows drew together, head tilting to the side. Had you not mentioned it to her? You knew you hadn’t really said much to Foggy, not really wanting it to get back to Matt and end up hurting him that you’d been so actively dating, but you didn’t realize you hadn’t told Karen much.
“I haven’t?” you asked her.
She shook her head, swallowing down her sip of wine. “No,” she answered. “Have you been dating?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, heat burning at your cheeks as you focused on the wine glass in your lap. “It was difficult at first, because it–it sort of felt wrong, you know?”
“Because of Matt?” Karen asked.
You nodded, your gaze still focused on the glass of wine in your lap. Your fingers lightly drummed along the side of it nervously. You desperately wanted to ask her about Matt but you were afraid to know what had been going on with him since you’d left.
“But yes, I’ve been dating,” you confessed.
“Has…anything come of it?” she asked curiously. “Have you met anyone?”
Clearing your throat nervously, eyes still averted, you shook your head. “I’ve…met a lot of someones, actually,” you told her. “But not a particular someone.”
“Wow,” Karen said in surprise.
Her tone caused you to look back up at her, shocked to see she was grinning back at you from the other end of the couch. Your brows drew together in confusion; you’d expected her to be a little upset because she had known about your feelings for Matt and his feelings for you. Part of you had wondered if she might consider it some sort of betrayal to him that you’d been sleeping with other men since you now knew your feelings weren’t one-sided.
“So you’ve been putting yourself out there and actually enjoying being single?” she asked. “Not just holed up in your apartment or at work, but actually out here living your life?”
You smiled sheepishly at her, nodding in response. “Yeah,” you admitted. “I’ve been getting out quite frequently.”
“Good,” she replied. “I’m happy for you. LA seems like it’s been good for you then. Because I know how tied to your job you were back in Hell’s Kitchen. And how…unavailable you often made yourself. You seem to be enjoying it here.”
Your smile faltered yet again this evening. Karen’s perceptive gaze immediately caught the small downward movement of your lips, though. Her piercing blue eyes narrowed back at you.
“What’s that about?” she asked, gesturing towards your face.
"What?" you asked innocently.
"That look," she clarified. "You are happy here, right? Because you always make it seem that way when we talk to you, but…that was definitely a look that said there's more to the story."
You shifted on the couch, drawing your legs further into yourself under the blanket. Not wanting to lie to Karen, you decided to be entirely honest.
"I like it here," you answered truthfully. "I do. And I've been pretty content since I moved. This apartment is far nicer than the one I had in Hell’s Kitchen, and I actually have a savings account that isn't sad to look at. I've made some friends out here," you continued. "And I haven't had much issue when it comes to finding guys to, you know, sleep with. I mean there's…been a surprising amount."
"Oh my God," Karen said with a giggle on the other side of the couch. "I am dying to hear about all of those details while I’m here."
Nervously biting your lip, your fingers once again drummed along the side of your wine glass. You could feel the shift in Karen’s demeanor instantly, as if she had simultaneously picked up on the shift in your mood.
"But it's not what I want," you admitted quietly, shaking your head. "I don't want to keep sleeping around with a different guy almost every week."
"Shit," Karen whispered in disbelief. "Almost weekly? You've certainly been busy."
You sent her another sheepish smile which had her swiftly shaking her head and waving a hand quickly between the pair of you.
"Like I said, I'm proud of you for putting yourself out there," she explained. "No judgment whatsoever. Honestly? I'm envious because I've been too busy to even think about sex. But I'm guessing the reason it's not what you want has a lot to do with a certain lawyer with a questionable hobby back in Hell’s Kitchen?"
Exhaling a long breath, one of your hands began anxiously running through your hair. It had taken you this past month to fully come to that conclusion yourself. For a while you'd tried to tell yourself it was just because you'd wanted more from the men you kept seeing here, but soon it started to become glaringly obvious that you couldn't hide from the truth.
You were still in love with Matthew Murdock.
Moving to the other side of the country hadn’t magically gotten rid of your feelings for him. They were still there. And while that ache in your chest hadn’t hit you as often, and you weren’t sitting around constantly crying over Matt once you’d really settled into your life here, you couldn’t deny the truth. You missed him and you wanted him. These other men had only made that clearer for you.
"Yes," you replied. "Everything is great here, and I’ve been trying to be open-minded and meet new people. But I still have feelings for Matt. I tried hard to move past him, but I–I just can't. I love him, Karen. That hasn't changed."
Karen leaned forward towards you on the couch, sitting up a bit straighter. There was a small smile on her face as she gazed back at you.
"Where do you…stand with all of that?" she asked. “With him?”
You shrugged a shoulder, shaking your head. "I don't know," you told her. "I'm still a little hurt about him letting me think he was dead for so long when he wasn’t–that all of you did, if I'm being honest."
"I'm sorry," Karen apologized immediately. "I didn't want to do that to you, but I didn't want you to get hurt. None of us did."
"I know you're all sorry and regret it," you told her. "I’ve heard the apologies countless times from each of you. And I believe you all, which is why I've forgiven you. All three of you, including Matt, because I think he grew from the situation and truly learned from it. But that doesn't erase the hurt it caused.” Shoulders sagging, your eyes dropped down to the glass of wine in your lap. You swirled the liquid, watching as it spun in a circular motion in the glass. “And then there's the whole thing with Erica," you continued quietly.
"He's not with her," Karen stated.
A hopeful feeling blossomed in your chest at her words, your eyes slowly rising from the glass of wine to see Karen staring back at you. Had Matt really not gone back to her when you left then? He wasn't still thinking about marrying her?
"He's not?" you asked timidly.
Karen shook her head firmly. "No, he hasn't been with anyone. I think he's always hopeful you'll suddenly show up in Hell’s Kitchen again someday. He’s either always working on some case or another for the firm, keeping himself busy, or he’s out scouring rooftops around Hell’s Kitchen at night. He really doesn’t do anything else–besides mope, I suppose.”
“Oh,” you breathed out. “So he’s not…seeing anyone? Sleeping with anyone?”
“Nope,” Karen said, her smile growing wider.
Matt wasn’t dating.
It had been nearing six months since you’d left Hell’s Kitchen–left Matt after his confession of having feelings for you as well–and he wasn’t dating. Which was unheard of. Because it was Matt . You’d always known him to be with someone, whether it was a one night sort of thing or him casually dating someone. Matt was always with someone.
But ever since you’d left he hadn’t been with anyone else.
“Why?” you asked her. “He’s usually always turning on the charm and getting attention.”
Karen dramatically rolled her eyes at you, her smile widening. “Are you seriously asking me that? Matt confesses he has feelings for you months ago, right before you hop on a plane, and then suddenly he has the most impressive lack of a dating history he’s ever had? And you can’t put two and two together?”
“Because of…me?” you whispered.
“Obviously!” Karen said, leaning forward and swatting your leg. “You know, the other week the three of us were out to lunch and this woman came right up and flirted with him at our table. And you know what he said?”
“Something witty accompanied with that damn charming smile of his?” you deadpanned.
“No!” Karen exclaimed. “He told her he wasn’t interested!”
Your brows drew together on your forehead. That wasn't like Matt. He usually loved the attention, or at least it always seemed like he did, and he would inevitably turn on the charm and flirt back even if he declined anything more.
"You both still aren't talking, right?" Karen asked, a mischievous grin forming on her lips.
Your eyes narrowed at her suspiciously. "No, we aren't," you answered slowly. "He hasn't reached out to me and I wasn't sure why. And the more time that went by, the more terrified I became at the thought of reaching out myself. I–I figured he didn’t want to hear from me because I hadn’t heard from him."
"Well, Fog wanted me to do a video call with you while I was out here." She shrugged innocently despite the devious smile on her face only growing. "I figured we could call him Monday mid-afternoon their time because I know they both will be there at the office. It'd be a chance for you and Matt to finally talk again." She raised a brow at you. "What do you say?"
Chewing your lip, you felt nerves swirling in your stomach. You'd get to see Matt again, even if it wasn’t in person. Talk to him. Hear his voice. The thought alone had your heart racing.
"Yeah," you whispered. "Okay."
Sitting beside Karen on the stools at the breakfast bar in your kitchen, you were nervously chewing your thumbnail as you rested your elbows on the white quartz counter. She was dialing Foggy on her phone for the video chat that she'd mentioned the other day and you were feeling incredibly anxious.
It had been months since you'd spoken to Matt at all, and with the way you'd left him back in Hell’s Kitchen, you weren't sure what to expect. Maybe he wouldn't want to talk to you at all. And with how you knew he felt about the people he loved leaving him, you wouldn't be surprised.
But the longer you sat there, hearing the phone ringing as you waited for Foggy to answer, the more nervous you felt yourself growing. By the time Foggy finally answered the call, shouting your name in excitement when he first saw you, you felt ready to run to your bathroom and throw up.
Though that could also have been due to the aftereffects of your night out with Karen last night.
"Hey, Fog," you greeted him in return.
Despite the way your stomach was churning and roiling violently, making you feel sick and a little on edge, a large smile spread across your face at the sight of one of your absolute best friends. It hit you in that moment just how long it had been since you'd last seen him. You definitely had missed him and his words of advice and comfort that you'd come to rely on over the years.
"How are two of Hell’s Kitchen’s finest ladies doing out in LA today?" Foggy asked, a broad smile on his own face.
"Tired, we were up late last night," Karen said with a laugh. "We actually only woke up about an hour ago."
Foggy glanced down at his watch, his face scrunching up. A second later his eyes closed as if he was thinking.
"Isn't it about eleven in the morning out there?" Foggy asked, his eyes opening again. "So you both woke up around ten this morning?"
"Well we didn't go to sleep until after two," you informed him. "And we needed our beauty rest for another night out tonight."
"Ahh, so that's why you ladies look so lovely this morning," Foggy teased.
You saw Karen roll her eyes beside you in the small screen that was displaying the pair of you. But your mind was already on something else as you took in the sight of Foggy sitting in his office. Chewing your thumbnail nervously again, you worked up the courage to just ask.
"Is Matt there?" you blurted, full well knowing he'd have heard you asking for him if he was.
Karen immediately grinned at your question, waggling her brows playfully at Foggy who's mouth had dropped open. He looked stunned on the screen and that only had heat creeping up your cheeks.
Quickly trying to recover, Foggy nodded. "Yeah, he is," he answered. "He's just over in his office. Do you…want me to see if he's free to chat, too?"
You saw the hopeful, overeager look on his face and only felt your face heating further. You had a feeling Karen and Foggy had planned this somehow, trying to find a way to get you and Matt to finally reconnect after your move. But if it worked, you weren't about to complain about their scheming.
"Yeah, if he's not busy," you answered nervously. "I don't want to bother him."
"Trust me," Foggy said, swiftly rising to his feet from his desk chair, "you're not going to be bothering him."
You watched Foggy make his way out of his office, eventually passing Karen’s desk before you heard the knock he made on Matt's office door. The camera was focused on the side of Foggy’s face when you heard Matt call out from inside his office in response, his voice just registering over the phone. You sucked in a nervous breath instantly–it had been far too long since you’d heard that voice.
From beside you, Karen sent you a reassuring smile. It didn’t help to ease the knotting of your stomach though as you heard Foggy opening Matt’s office door. Shoving your thumbnail back into your mouth, your teeth began aggressively gnawing on it. You heard Foggy telling Matt that he was on the phone with you and Karen, though you had a feeling he already knew with his hearing. Admittedly you were glad his senses couldn’t pick up on much through the phone though, because you were sure your body was doing all sorts of things right now.
For a few seconds you saw the camera jostling around before both Matt and Foggy came into view on Karen’s phone screen. Your teeth bit down hard on your nail, your heart nearly exploding out of your chest at the bright smile on Matt’s face just beneath his familiar red glasses. He greeted you first, the sound of your name coming from his mouth making your heart stutter in your chest. It was a moment before he seemed to remember to greet Karen, too, which she was quick to tease him about. But you sat there feeling like you couldn’t breathe just at the sight of him.
Because there he was. Matt. Your Matt. In his white dress shirt and a dark red tie today, one that matched his lenses. The stubble was a bit darker on his cheeks than usual and his hair looked a little windswept, but there was a bright smile on his face, one that had the lone dimple in his right cheek visible. You found yourself suddenly overcome with the desperate urge to reach through the phone and hug him.
You had definitely missed him. More than you’d apparently realized.
“Hey, Matty,” you finally greeted, feeling a little shy.
You were aware there was a massive, idiotic smile on your face that you were glad he couldn’t see. But unfortunately for you, Foggy and Karen could see it. Though Matt’s smile only seemed to grow wider across his face when you’d spoken, which only kept your eyes completely glued to him despite Foggy standing just beside him. He actually seemed happy to be hearing from you and you soon felt foolish for thinking he'd feel otherwise.
"I hope you're enjoying your time with Karen," Matt said.
"Yes," you replied immediately, your face somehow heating further at your next words. "Though I–I wish you could have all come out to visit me."
You saw the looks both Foggy and Karen exchanged over the video at your comment, Foggy’s smile widening even further. Because they were aware of what that comment really meant. They knew what you were trying to say.
And judging by the look of surprise on Matt’s face, his dark brows rising onto his forehead for a long moment, he was surprised to hear you'd wished he could be there, too. When he recovered, the smile he sent you next had your heart racing. He was so handsome, your memory certainly hadn't done him justice.
"I wish we weren't so busy here at the firm," Matt told you. "We would have liked to join Karen if we could have."
"Well, I'm–I'm happy to hear the firm is doing so well lately," you replied nervously. "Though I've…definitely missed you all."
You saw Matt reach up, one hand pulling his glasses off of his face and revealing the soft, affectionate look in his hazel eyes as they focused just to the side of the camera. A warmer, sweeter smile had drawn itself across his lips, the sight causing your hands to grip your countertop firmly.
"We've definitely missed you, too," he said quietly.
"Okay, okay," Foggy cut in, waving a hand in front of Matt's face and the phone. "Just so everyone is clear, you're both saying you missed each other." He turned and looked at Matt, shooting him a pointed stare as he said firmly, "And she's saying she wouldn't mind if you visited her in the future." His head turned swiftly as he shot you a look through the phone, his eyes narrowed. "Right? Because I don't want any more miscommunication with you two. I've had years of it."
Biting your lip, you nodded nervously. "Yes," you replied shyly. "That's exactly what I'm saying."
Your heart felt like it flew into your throat when Foggy focused back on Matt. You weren’t sure what to expect of his reaction even after hearing his confession to you months ago.
"Okay, so are you on board with using your words now, Matt?" he asked him. "I know you're good with them, I see you in court all the time, buddy."
Matt chuckled lightly, nodding his head. You couldn't tell if it was the phone or not, but it almost looked like Matt was faintly blushing when he spoke.
"Yes, I'm saying I missed you," he confessed. "And that I wish I could have come to visit you, too."
"Excellent!" Foggy exclaimed. He threw an arm around a grinning Matt’s shoulders beside him. “The miscommunication finally ends! We shall forever call this moment the death of miscommunication! But you two can talk to each other on your own and catch up another time, because I want to hear about Karen’s time in LA so far. And I especially want to know why you girls were out until two in the morning on a Sunday night.”
A look of surprise washed over Matt’s face, his lips pulling up into a curious grin. “You know, I’d like to hear about this, too. I’m guessing it involved drinking?” he asked.
“It definitely involved drinking,” Karen answered, a grin on her own face. “And dancing.”
“Oh, well now this I’ve got to hear!” Foggy said excitedly.
The moment you saw Foggy turn and shoot Matt a smile, and you saw the smile that spread across Matt’s own face in return, you knew exactly what they were about to bring up. You groaned, rolling your eyes.
“Did she dance on any tables, Karen?” Foggy asked, his focus returning to the two of you.
“Belt out any songs?” Matt added.
Throwing your face in your hands, you groaned louder. Beside you, Karen was laughing and shaking her head.
“No, but I feel like there’s a story in there,” she said.
“Oh there most certainly is!" Foggy began enthusiastically. "So there was this night, just a few months after we first met her at Columbia, where we brought her to a party. She got really drunk. Like, I don’t know how many shots I saw go down this one’s mouth that night,” he said, pointing at you through the phone as you peaked at him through your fingers, “but holy shit. She was intoxicated . Almost immediately after us arriving.”
“I remember she was holding onto me for support the duration of the night,” Matt teased, a big smile on his own mouth.
"And I remember apologizing profusely the next day because I'd ruined your night," you grumbled.
"Nah," Matt said with a shake of his head and a broad smile on his face. "You didn't ruin my night."
"You had one beer the whole time!" you reminded him. "And Foggy said you spent the whole night taking care of me."
"I didn't mind," he said with a shrug, the smile still on his face. "I wanted to make sure you were alright. And it meant I got to spend the entire night with you clinging to me."
Your bottom lip rolled back between your teeth at his words, a rush of warmth abruptly flooding you. You vaguely remembered that night, but you'd always felt bad about how it had gone. You’d always guiltily felt like you'd ruined Matt’s evening because you'd gotten so drunk. Always thought he'd felt obligated to take care of you, making it so he couldn't go back to anyone else's dorm for what you figured he usually did after parties, but apparently he was happy to have you attached to him that night. Which had been news to you.
"Besides," Matt continued, "even drunk, it was still a little hot watching you on that table."
Foggy snorted out a laugh as your face suddenly burned with embarrassment. Beside you, Karen let out a giggle as Matt continued to smile back at you through the phone screen.
"You only heard what Fog told you about it, Matt," you shot back. "You didn't actually get to experience it fully that night, so I don’t know how you think you can tease me about that."
A devilish smirk slid across his mouth, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Heightened senses, sweetheart,” he said smoothly. “I experienced it quite well, actually."
Your eyes widened in shock, your mouth falling open. He only chuckled when you cried out in further embarrassment before burying your face back into your hands.
"I don't want to reminisce anymore!" you shouted. “It’s vastly too mortifying knowing the things I know now!”
The three of them laughed as you tried to disappear into your countertop. You couldn’t even begin to imagine all of the moments you didn’t realize Matt was aware of more than you had known. Though a part of you did wonder what moments with Matt you’d misread all those years ago.
Settling onto your couch, you flipped on your television and skimmed absently through the channels. Your apartment felt empty now that Karen had left a bit ago to catch her flight back to New York. It had been a fun week having her here, especially because it felt like she’d brought a bit of Hell’s Kitchen with her. But now that she was gone, your apartment seemed oddly quiet and a little lonely. Even the noise of the television didn’t seem to help with that.
You’d done another short video call with her a few days after the first one, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush the moment Matt joined Foggy on the call with his smiling face. The memory of him pulled at your heartstrings now, making you feel a little teary-eyed as you tried to focus on the television. You missed all three of them and Hell’s Kitchen, but you’d gradually started to make a life out here in LA. You had an amazing career here, one that paid exceptionally well. It wasn’t realistic for you to uproot back to New York on a whim just because you missed your friends. Even if you happened to have really strong, not-so-friendly feelings for one of those friends. This was your life now, at least for the time being. The feelings from Karen’s visit would eventually fade and things would return to how they were.
For some reason that thought only made you feel worse.
Your phone vibrated on your coffee table, the brief buzzing noise catching your attention. Curious, you leaned forward and saw you had a text message. You figured it would be from Karen letting you know she was bored at the airport, or maybe Alicia wanting to meet up tomorrow for lunch. She’d certainly had fun meeting Karen the other night. But you were surprised to see it was Matt’s name that had shown up on your screen. It had been months since he’d reached out to you, and even though Foggy had claimed the pair of you had put your miscommunication to death the other day, neither of you had actually reached out to the other all week. You wondered if he ever would, or if it would be up to you to figure out what to say to break the strange lack of communication between the pair of you.
Opening up his text, your eyes read over it quickly.
2:36PM Matt: Foggy just told me Karen is at the airport now. Figured you were probably feeling a little down. Just wanted to let you know I was thinking about you.
Your eyes ran over the text multiple times, your heart beating a little faster as you did. He’d reached out to you. After months of silence, he’d actually reached out. It was only through text, but still, that was better than nothing. Your eyes reread the last line of his text a few more times, a small smile steadily growing on your lips as you did because he was thinking about you. You . No one else. Just you.
There were certainly things that Matt and you needed to discuss, things better discussed in person if there was ever the opportunity, but this was good. This was progress. This was you and Matt hopefully finding your way back to each other with honest communication.
With a glimmer of hope building inside of you, your fingers flew across your phone as you began to type up a response.
[END NOTES]
I like end notes, alright? 🤣 For those who read FFTD over on AO3, y'all know the novels I write there.
So they're finally talking again!! And we see Reader fully acknowledge the fact that she still loves Matt, even if her life is still very much rooted in LA at the moment. Once again we can thank Foggy and even Karen for pushing the two to finally talk!
From here on out the angst slowly fizzles out, but it still exists because, well, there's clearly physical distance between Matt and Reader. But at least they're going to openly communicate with each other and be honest about their feelings. It only took YEARS for them to reach this point! Hopefully y'all are still enjoying this series as it now reaches the fluffy and eventually smut-filled installments! Is there a long distance relationship with Matty in the future? You'll have to wait and see...
#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x you#matt murdock angst#matt murdock fanfic#matt murdock series#matt murdock
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A little Film/Jam requeim
Upon the news that these two are not planning any projects together in the future, I was pondering Thai actor pairings and why I liked this particular one. First let me say I'm very in favor of actors not getting joined at the hip forever -- I doubt that's why anyone gets into acting, and while I get the financial reasons this happens in Thai entertainment, I'm generally in agreement that it tends to limit creativity, since the brand often has to come before the story. My only gripe is that now they're off doing lakorns that will never get subbed in English and it's not fair and look, I need to see The Empress of Ayodhaya ok??
I don't think it's a bad thing to have actors with great chemistry appear together in multiple shows, however, and I wanna say that I think these two used that opportunity right. Look, we have Tian:
Utter cinammon roll, too pure for this world, total sweetheart. He's a little scared and a lot beaten down, but he still has a burning spark of respect for himself that he doesn't let extinguish. He spends 73% of this show in the throes of a mental breakdown but still manages to take control of his narrative in the end. It's actively insane that the murder glitter show has such fantastic characters.
And then you have Charn, who is...
... also beaten down by this world, but evil about it. It's all manipulation, manwhoring, and complicated smiles belaying his real feelings with this guy. Refreshingly, he only has to reform himself a little bit to get his happy ending.
Meanwhile, Jiu. Assassin, kind of a tsundere. Marshmallow center, obviously. I'll never be over how after he and Tian first had sex (under the influence of a beetle fungus, OBVIOUSLY), he got deeply hurt that Tian said it was a mistake and accused Tian of doing this to all the boys. Possibly my favorite Jiu moment. ANYWAY.
There isn't as much distance between Jiu and Tinn as there is between Tian and Charn (from what I've seen, Jam maybe doesn't have quite as much range as Film, or at least hasn't been asked to demonstrate it). But Tinn is a more open and straightforward character, the moral center of Laws of Attraction versus a guy who assassinates several people with scissors without remorse in Khun Chai.
Point is, we don't always get this with repeated actor pairings. A lot of the time, you have an underlying dynamic that comes through in all the pair's shows, and it can't wander too far from its origins - I was thinking about this specifically with regards to Only Friends after listening to this excellent debut of the Part 5 (of 4) podcast, which talks about the way Force's Top turned into a completely flat character, possibly because "interesting" would conflict with the whole True Love ForceBook dynamic that GMMTV needs to sell.
An appealing dynamic can be great -- hey, I read fanfic, I get the joy of putting the same guy in situations -- but I really liked how Film and Jam went with/were given quite different characters in their two projects together. This could be a lakorn vs. BL thing, but it'd be cool to see more paired actors take on more disparate roles together!
My disappointment over no more shows from these two comes down to wishing I could see what else they might pull off. Jam as the rich jerk instead of Film? Both of them playing morally grey? It could have been fun.
Oh well; I'll just be over here lighting candles for English subs from One31, because at least this hot murderous royalty nonsense looks exquisite.
And if you've read this far, please feel free to drop me recs in the tags or comments of other pairs that have played really different roles or dynamics with each other. I love seeing actors show their range!
#jamfilm#jam rachata#film thanapat#laws of attraction#khun chai#to sir with love#the empress of ayodhaya#thai actors
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Gay OK Bangkok
Well, holy shit. I had been planning to watch this ahead of Only Friends because @shortpplfedup named it as one of the Jojo shows that would serve as a good primer for the types of themes we could expect. I didn’t know much about it except it was an Aof/Jojo collab and had openly queer cast members. I expected something like a short Thai Queer as Folk.
And it kind of is like QaF, in the sense that it’s very much a show about a group of queer friends and their romantic (mis)adventures that features frank discussion of gay sex and sexual health practices, but it’s not really like it at all in terms of its tone. Where QaF is known for its explicit sex, trippy drug sequences, and heavy doses of camp, GOBK is much less smutty and has a thread of deep melancholy running through it (oh hi Aof), and it is primarily interested in doing some serious character work alongside delivering its messages about safe sex. And these characters got their hooks in me much more than I expected.
I think what I appreciate most about this show is how real the characters feel. They’re wonderfully flawed, fully realized human beings—beautiful and ugly in equal measure, wrong as often as they’re right, and just doing their best to balance their needs and desires with how they want to show up for the people they love. Even the characters I didn’t like much, I still understood and felt some empathy for, and I think that’s a credit to the compassion and care with which this series is written (not a surprise given Aof and Jojo are the ones who wrote it). Everyone gets the benefit of nuance and grace, including the side characters. And to be clear, I wouldn’t consider this a bl. I’d call it a queer slice of life drama that includes romance, but is not about romance—there is no primary romantic relationship that acts as the plot driver and it’s not at all interested in happily ever afters or even firm endings for its relationships.
My only real complaint about this show is I wanted (a lot) more of it. But still, for a show that only had eight hours total runtime over two seasons, it managed to do a lot with it. I am going to avoid getting into spoilers because as usual, I want y’all to watch this! But I really loved seeing a few years in the life of Arm, Pom, Aof, Big, Sathang, and their various friends, family, and lovers. And, crucially, it’s all so very queer. There is so much to unpack here about the nature of loneliness and desire and the guilt and shame that often comes along with them. The show is interested in exploring lots of ways to be in love and in relationship with each other, and it lets the characters fight, fuck up, break up, make up, and express their own confusion and discomfort and dissonance along the way. The only thing it’s interested in being preachy about are safe sex practices; everything else is presented in shades of gray. And it doesn’t limit itself to romance; we see the characters at work and with their families and out living their daily lives in a society that is often actively hostile to them. This show sits squarely at the center of @wen-kexing-apologist’s by/for/about Venn diagram (can’t wait for you to watch this, friend).
I highly recommend this show to anyone who plans to watch Only Friends (which, by my count, is just about everyone I know on here)—homework is of course not required before enjoying a new drama, but I do think familiarity with this work will enhance your experience, and it’s such a quick watch! If you’re interested, the show is available on YouTube here and here. It also has a great and surprising soundtrack which has also been compiled into two playlists.
Tagging friends @neuroticbookworm, @waitmyturtles, @chickenstrangers, and @lurkingteapot who are all in the midst of their own watches or planning to start soon, and @bengiyo, @so-much-yet-to-learn, and @imminentinertia who saw this awhile back and shared some interesting reflections about it during my watch.
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2023 Thai BL Favorites List - Mid Year Check In
Tagged by @thatgirl4815 (thanks hon!) I adapted this to my taste.
Feel free to c/p do the same!
I’m answering all these right now for 2023, because it’s too complicated for me otherwise.
Favorite Thai BL 2023:
My School President
Favorite currently active Thai BL Branded Pair:
High Heat: Net James (Bed Friend)
Established: OhmFluke (609 Bedtime Story)
New: GeminiFourth (My School President & Moonlight Chicken)
Most underrated Thai BL actor right now:
Film Thanapat. He was perfectly serviceable in To Sir, With Love but he’s a goddamn revelation in Laws of Attraction.
Pair the deserves a second chance:
Haii & Boom (Chains of Heart)
Favorite Thai BL Main Character 2023:
King (Bed Friend)
Favorite Thai BL Side Character 2023:
Thiu (My School President)
Favorite Thai BL side dishes 2023:
Li Ming & Heart (Moonlight Chicken)
Favorite scene in a Thai BL so far:
My School President calling on the spirit of Love Sick. What can I say? I love meta and I love BL remembering it’s own history. This did both.
Most Anticipated Thai BL (& why):
I Feel You Linger in the Air
I like the premise, the cast looks great. This is a time travel historical romance adaption of y-novel by Violet Rain about a heartbroken architect who is transported to the 1930s from the producers of Lovely Writer.
Guilty pleasure Thai BL 2023 series (or likely to become so):
Future the series
July 2023 Thai BL Report
ABL has watched:
My School President & Our Skyy 2: My School President
La Pluie
Step By Step
Bed Friend
Between Us
Destiny Seeker
Make a Wish
Moonlight Chicken
Never Let Me Go & Our Skyy 2: Never Let Me Go
Our Skyy 2: A Tale of Thousand Stars
Our Skyy 2: Bad Buddy
Our Skyy 2: Star in My Mind
Our Skyy 2: The Eclipse
A Boss and a Babe & Our Skyy 2: A Boss and a Babe
Cutie Pie 2 You special
Future the series
609 Bedtime Story
Our Skyy 2: Vice Versa
I Will Knock You
Remember Me
Tin Tem Jai
Pastsenger
The Promise
Cafe In Love
Chains of Heart
Hit Bite Love
The Luminous Solution
My Blessing
Currently Watching:
Be Mine Super Star
Be My Favorite
Dinosaur Love
Hidden Agenda
Laws of Attraction
Love Syndrome III
Low Frequency
Senior Love Me
Wedding Plan
Can’t Find
Love Upon a Time
Boyband the series
Heart by Heart
Moments Of Love
DNF
House of Stars
Till the World Ends
Announced for 2023 (maybe still to come?)
After Sundown
1626
Fake Love
Friends Forever
I Wish You Love
Lucky Love
Pisces of Me
Refund Love
Right Time, Right You
You Are My Soulmate
The Camp Fire
The Outing Series
Deep Night
Pit Babe
Rule No.1: Don’t Be Too Emotional
Future From Me
SHADOW
Naughty Babe
Only Friends
Buddy Line Y Animal AKA
Mystique in the Mirror
2 Worlds
Punk Spy
The Next Prince
Kemjira Will Survive
Playboyy
Close Friend 3 Soju Bomb
Waterboyy 3 AKA Waterboys
Acadex
I Feel You Linger in the Air
Middleman’s Love AKA Middle Love
Cinderella Boys
Cherry Magic (Thai remake)
Born to be Y
Dangerous Romance
23.5
4 Minutes
7 Times 4 Days
Big Dragon 2
Big Dragon the movie
Boy Never Smiles
Chiang Mai Adventures
City of Stars
Colorful Melody
Cooking Crush
Flirt Milk
Friend. Boyfriend
Heroin The Series
Hot Bamee and Yummy Gyogung
Khemjira Will Survive
Last Twilight
Lost in the Woods
Love in Translation
Love Puzzle AKA Plengrak AKA
Love Syndrome – The Beginning
Lover Merman
Man Suang
Night Dream
Our Skyy 2
Our Story
Rule No.1: Don't Be too Emotional
Sunset Vibes
The Chinese Family
The D Project
The Hidden Character
The Internship
The Sign
The Whisperer
True Moon
Two Worlds
Wish Me Luck
Wish You Luck
Y-Moment
Crazy Handsome Rich
For Him the series
Twin The Series AKA Twins
Casanova Begins
Marry Go Round
Venus in the Sky
#Thai bl#memes gonna meme#abl answers the call of the meme#favorite thai bl#favorite thai pairing#most underrated actor#thai BL midyear reoirt#thai bl till to come
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Get to Know Your Tav
I have been begging other people to share their Tavs with me so I figure I’d better do the same!! Thanks to @lewdisescariot for tagging me, this was so fun. 😌
Name: Saraneth of House Atlàn
(High Elf, Wizard, School of Necromancy)
Background: Sage
Favorite weapon: Saraneth favors spells over weapons, but she does love a rapier or dagger. Something elegant and light that she can wield with precision, and without relying much on physical strength.
Style of combat: Ranged, certainly. She is fascinated by death but less so by gore, and she doesn’t like to get her hands dirty if she can help it. Ugh, all that blood.
Most prized possession: A letter from her father, expressing his pride in her academic achievements at the Red School of Thay. Saraneth’s parents– both politicians in the city– had a difficult time accepting her decision to pursue necromancy instead of one of the more “tasteful” schools of magic. It meant a lot to her when they finally came around.
Deepest desire: Saraneth's primary goal as a wizard is to prove that necromancy is not an inherently dark magic, and that it can be as much about bringing balance, closure, and comfort as it can be about control. To her, death is an equalizer, and she has no love for those who exploit it for personal gain. She and Gale are in perpetual debate on the subject, but no matter– she’ll convince him, sooner or later. She’s already brought Halsin around.
Guilty pleasure: Purchasing little luxuries wherever she can find them. If she’s doing the party's shopping, she’ll prioritize what’s on the list— poison-tipped arrows for Astarion, potion bottles for Shadowheart, infernal iron for Karlach— but she’ll also buy that gorgeous little vial of perfume, that expensive bar of soap that makes her skin feel soft and glowy. She’ll even sneak unnecessary treats into the others’ packs, especially those she knows won’t treat themselves.
Best-kept secret: Likely the latter half of her education, which can lead to misgivings about her character. Initially schooled in Candlekeep, Saraneth was later transferred to Thay for practical studies in necromancy. She was mentored by the Red Wizards and has studied lichdom extensively, though she holds this information close to the vest.
Greatest strength: Her intelligence and natural magical aptitude. She might be a Chosen herself, if not for her general (and growing) distaste for Mystra’s doctrine.
Fatal flaw: Saraneth has a real “How hard can it be?” mentality that gets her into trouble from time to time. Outwitting a devil? Killing a god? Not a problem, until it is. She’s working on it. Sort of.
Favorite smell: She misses the smell of her mother’s gardens in the Gate, iris and bergamot and nerium all together, but she’s recently grown fond of campfire smoke and rainwater, soaked into the earth.
Favorite spell or cantrip: Animate Dead, but not for the reasons one might assume. She finds it a useful tool in helping the dead finish unfinished business. Bodies desecrated by Balthazar will bring his ruin. Druids felled by Ketheric Thorm will break his curse. Saraneth will never wake a restful spirit. She sees no need to raise the peaceful dead.
Pet peeve: Gale’s terrible, eye-rolling puns, which she swears he doubles down on just to exasperate her. What’s worse is when she actually finds them funny.
Bad habit: Like many elves, Saraneth can be overly concerned with appearances. She’s a bit vain, but she tries her best not to fixate on her hair or her nails or her skin when there are far more important matters to attend to. Still, she’ll sneak a peek at herself in Astarion’s mirror every now and again. Just to make sure she's still got it.
Hidden talent: She’s excellent with children, whether she’s soothing them or playing with them or getting them out of– or into– mischief. She’s also surprisingly good at knife tricks. She doesn’t let these talents mingle.
Leisure activity: She’s an avid poetry reader, and has taken to translating some of the Elvish epics into the common tongue to make them more accessible. Maybe she’ll publish a book of translations one day, when their adventures have come to an end. Now and then she thinks this hobby is a little on the pretentious side, but then again, what was all that expensive schooling for?
Favorite drink: Any sweet liquor– she detests beer or whiskey, but a Suzailian or Amnian dessert wine will go down nicely.
Comfort food: There’s a traditional elven dish– long-grain rice with wild mushroom, seared in fat and soaked in broth and topped with cheese and spiced persimmon. She mentions it often, but especially when she’s homesick. She can’t remember the exact recipe, but Gale is hard at work perfecting it already.
Favorite person: She’s closest to Gale and Shadowheart, though she loves everyone in their little band of adventurers. She’s a bit surprised when she falls in love with Gale, but they’ve got a lot in common despite the different paths they’ve taken to get where they are. And she is fast friends with Shadowheart, who understands what it’s like to live beneath the judgment of others.
Favorite display of affection: She’s very tactile and finds that any soft touch will do, but she often finds herself playing with Gale’s hair– combing it, braiding it, brushing it out of his face. She loves it when he does the same, though he’s still learning some of her more intricate hairstyles. If he braids her hair for her, she never fixes it.
Fondest childhood memory: Saraneth still remembers the time that her mother stayed home to care for her during a particularly violent illness, a job usually reserved for a member of their household staff. She remembers the steam rising from the bath as her mother washed her hair, the fresh feel of newly-washed bed linens, the smell of broth wafting into her room from the kitchens. Her mother has always been reserved in her affections, but Saraneth had never felt more loved.
Tagging folks but feel free to do this if you like and if you’d prefer not to, that’s cool too: @diawh0re, @eelqueen, @an-drawer, @orehuna, @rowanisawriter, @durgeteriormotives
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15 people, 15 questions
I am clearly behind because by now I've been tagged by @rocketturtle4 @airenyah and @zimmbzon to do this - thanks y'all ✨
1) Are you named after anyone?
I am! Bella is my actual nickname but it's just the second half of a longer name. The first half I share with both a maternal and a paternal great-grandmother.
2) When was the last time you cried?
I'm an easy crier when it comes to media so my kneejerk reaction was to assume that was the last time. But, while I was at my sister's over the last few days, we went to wish our mom Merry Christmas at her grave, just the two of us. 🌻
3) Do you have kids?
Nope.
4) What sports do you play/have you played?
I'm anything but athletic dhshdjhs I played basketball for like 2 years as a kid but apart from that uhhhh I enjoy? taking a walk?? on occasion???
5) Do you use sarcasm?
I do partake, yes.
6) What's the first thing you notice about people?
Hm, their height maybe? That's just the way it is as a smol™.
7) What's your eye color?
I've got a case of those big brown eyes like a baby cow.
8) Scary movies or happy endings?
Why not both? I love scary movies, as long as they don't veer into gore. And I enjoy ambiguous or open endings but happy ones are my favorite. I do like a tragedy though, provided I am prepared for it!
9) Any talents?
I guess I'm good at keeping cool when others are stressing aka I have the Mom Friend override even though I'm anxious by nature myself. Other than that, I've been told I'm a thoughtful gift giver.
10) Where were you born?
Yermahnee 🇩🇪
11) What are your hobbies?
Currently, it's really only learning Thai and consuming Thai media, both of which go hand in hand for me. But I also play D&D, like to draw (mostly fueled by playing D&D lol), read novels, play games (though mostly to spend time with friends these days, be it videogames, tabletop games, escape rooms), and I love cooking!
12) Do you have any pets?
My apartment's kinda too small to keep a pet so- no.
13) How tall are you?
1,58m which ought to be about 5'2" - I'm pretty sure I've been this height since I was like 10 which means I last felt like a tol™ in elementary school lmao
14) What was your favorite subject in school?
English! Languages have always come naturally to me but English has become second nature - which is why teen-me thought she should totally just go study English at university and see where it takes her. Four years later, I was finally ready to admit I hated academia, dropped out of uni without a degree to the dismay of my parents, and did a 180 by doing an apprenticeship as a baker. :D
15) What is your dream job?
I'm pretty happy with where I work now because I finally have colleagues I like and I love the work I do. So I don't think I have a dream job but who knows what the future holds.
I'm sure most people have played already but I'm gonna tag some followers for a change! It's still wild to me that anyone would actively click follow for my rambles about Thai and Thai media but I'm glad that my nerdy niche is interesting to y'all 🙏
Tagging @nemesis-21 @nongnaopat @becomingabeing @whomanist @silvercrystal1 @purlpeiris @thestarscanalwayslookatus @mygwenchan @fruityheffalump @non-binarypal7 @queersouthasian @panncakes @blneobin @infinitelyprecious @theflagscene - no pressure and you're ofc free to ignore this :D
#tag game#bella and the blorbos#i kinda forgot today is friday so i gotta go watch last twilight now!!
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15 people, 15 questions (on the 15th! 😄)
Thank you very much for tagging me in this game @xagan @theflagscene @visualtaehyun @telomeke ❣️ I loved learning about y’all 🥰
1) Are you named after anyone?
My middle name was given to me in honor of my great-grandmother (one of her children was also named after her and kept that name her whole life, so I don’t feel bad about the fact that I’m changing both my first and middle names legally 😁) (even if no one else had been named after her there still wouldn’t be any reason for me to feel bad about changing my name to better suit me) 😁😁😁
2) Last time you cried?
A couple days ago in the lead up to a traumatic experience that I won’t go into but on the whole I don’t mind crying!
3) Do you have kids?
No, and I don’t plan on passing on my genes, but I can see myself potentially raising a kid in the distant future. There’s a very good chance that I’ll never be a parent, and I’m extremely fine with that. I think the ideal parenthood situation involves people who are adamantly certain in their desire to be parents (and who are prepared to respect the autonomy and complete personhood of their children) I have lots of other thoughts on parenthood, but I’m veering away from the question 😄
4) What sports do you play/have you played?
My primary sports are tennis and basketball and I really miss playing them. I played them frequently growing up and now it’s been quite a while since I played either, though the last time I played basketball was almost a year ago and it was a satisfyingly homoerotic experience and I played well under pressure, so at least I have that to sustain me until the next time I can play
5) Do you use sarcasm?
I do, but pretty infrequently, and generally only with people who I’m confident will understand and not be confused or hurt by it
6) What’s the first thing you notice about people?
If it’s an in-person meeting, probably their height, mannerisms, accent, facial expressions if I can see their face; if it’s a text-based meeting, probably their writing/spelling/grammar/punctuation style, use of emojis and/or emoticons, etc. + degree of formality for both in-person and online meetings
7) What’s your eye color?
My eyes are a bit of a kaleidoscope of colors, but the most dominant color is green
8) Scary movies or happy ending?
I don’t watch many scary movies, but I can enjoy a scary movie with a (relative to the plot) happy ending, like The Blue Hour directed by P’Nuchy Anucha Boonyawatana 😄 The Blue Hour isn’t extremely scary, but I’ll take any opportunity to encourage people to watch that film 😁
9) Any talents?
I love to sing ☺️
10) Where were you born?
U.S.
11) What are your hobbies?
Writing (predominately fan fiction and poetry, I’d like to journal and write poetry more often), engaging with Thai media, and learning languages (Spanish, Thai, and Japanese are my primary target languages) are currently my main hobbies
12) Do you have any pets?
Yes 🥰 Luna is a wonderful doggy whom I love very much
13) How tall are you?
163.83 cm (5 feet 4 and a half inches)
14) Favorite subject in school?
Ecology
15) Dream job?
I feel capable of being fulfilled in numerous fields - ideally I’d like to help contribute towards environmental activism and sustainable practices, as well as regulations to hold companies accountable for their environmental and socioeconomic impacts
Tagging @dropthedemiurge @thepancakelady @7nessasaryevils @ablazenqueen @fairlylokai @ullvide @topcatnikki @fandork @springkitten @arisprite @wereflamingo @gaym3bo1 @ragingbyesexual @rares-posts @kornswasianguyswag
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Current Tag Game
I've been tagged by quite a few people now (thank you @twig-tea @colourme-feral @slayerkitty and @telomeke!) and in the past I've been too busy to complete these kinds of things but even though I'm still busy now, I figured I ought to do it this time...and if I don't do it now it won't get done. So, I'ma do it in 15 mins. Let's go!
Current time: 09:49
Current activity: I've just returned to my hotel room after having had breakfast. Hash Browns and Baked Beans ftw!! (<- How to tell someone you're British without telling them you're British 😂).
Currently thinking about: All the things that need to be done today - I'm away for work and I need to prep some stuff before leaving the hotel to go pick up some food for lunch because I won't have time to pop out later, and then I have to go to the location for today's work event and I basically won't stop until after it finishes tonight at 21:30 ish. (And somehow squeeze in Dangerous Romance somewhere there...maybe during my dinner break...or maybe I'll have to wait until afterwards when I'm back in the hotel again...but the internet is patchy at best - so if you don't hear me posting about it, it's because I won't be watching it until tomorrow evening 😭)
(Come on Lin, you gotta write faster!)
Current favourite song: This is so hard to pick just one! Okay, Until Then by Tilly Birds. I've known of the band since the Bad Buddy days but never really listened to their albums until Only Friends started airing and I discovered I'm Not Boring, You're Just Bored which made me go to their albums and now I'm a fan of more of their work.
Currently reading: I've said it before but I basically live in the Bad Buddy fandom on ao3. All other books are collecting dust on my bedside table, unread and unloved this whole year 😥
Currently watching: Not much actually since a lot finished airing recently. So, Dangerous Romance, Kiseki Dear to Me and You Are Mine. I've been waiting on english subs for the final episode of Love in Translation but it's been so long I might not bother anymore. And I paused I Feel You Linger in the Air before ep 9 and I'm waiting until the last ep has aired before I go back to it. I need to know if it's going to have a happy ending before I continue because it was SO beautiful but also SO heartbreaking and I was just scared all the time for the characters (someone tell me if it ends happily for all our couples!).
Special sub-heading:
Currently NOT watching and Sad About It So I've Had To Block The Tags: Shadow the series, My Gangster Oppa, and I Cannot Reach You (and maybe a few others I can't remember - I might not be able to watch Red Peafowl for the same reason) - all mainly because they're on platforms I don't subscribe to.
Current favourite character: I think Chen Yi and Ai Di (the Taiwanese Pat and Pran basically) - the one who realises his feelings late and goes ALL IN and the the other who has pined FOR YEARS and can't quite believe he finally gets to HAVE HIS DREAM. They own my whole heart.
Current WIP: My Thai Communal Wardrobe Advent Giveaway! Come request for a post about an item of clothing that has appeared in two or more shows to be dedicated to yourself or to someone else. I've only had about 10 requests so far - and I've already found about FIVE more, so the list I have currently stands at 50+!! There are plenty to go around 😁 Ask for more than one as well if you want.
Tagging a few who appeared in my recent notifications (and apologies if you've already been tagged, have already done it, or aren't interested!): @dimplesandfierceeyes @hsfavoriteworlds @belladonna-and-the-sweetpeas @quodekash and @aprilblossomgirl
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Happy 1st Anniversary of KinnPorsche the Series!! 🎉 🎊 🥳 🥂
allow me to be emotional a bit (i say this as if i'm not emotional over the series and the actors every other day lol)
kinn and porsche are SO precious to me...as individuals and as a couple...i relate to kinn a lot: his struggles with a parent, his crushing sense of duty, trying to fit into the world he's forced to be a part of, him not always knowing how to communicate feelings...i had talked about it a bit here about how soft he is despite everything around him and ya...kinn is extremely close to my heart because of these things...i see myself in him (barring the killings and sadly barring the butt sex too)
porsche is just....SO MUCH lol!!!! if i spend time with him i would need 3 to 5 business days to get my energy levels back! but i understand his love for his brother and relate to how he's fiercely protective of him (i'm the same with my sister...but she's older than me)
and ofc mile and apo
man i related a little too much with apo's early life struggles lol...him being told to always 'correct' himself, him feeling disconnected with who he is made to be, being subjected to casual homophobia at workplace (he talked about these things in the On That Day interview and that press con that had happened with the entire cast)...the fact that he felt so unhappy coming back home from the US...it broke my heart and it hit a little too close actually...i had talked about this a bit here (i feel apo is queer coded) coz it reminded me of things that had happened in my life quite recently at that time and the fact that both apo and i were still going strong gave me a sense of kinship with him (hahha 'kinn'ship haahhhaha)...i ofc don't have a mile who has been a positive and happy addition to apo's life since he came back but i am making efforts to have those positive and happy additions in my life
and one of these positive and happy additions happens to be the kpts fandom....y'all....it is SO AMAZING TO BE PART OF THE FANDOM.....y'all are SO TALENTED! the art, the gifs, the meta, the fics, the vids, the polls, the thoughts on the characters, the crackposts, the textposts, the fandom archivers! i'm so thankful to all of you...each and every single one of you
and lbr we've had our fair share of trials and tribulations but because i'm only on tumblr and not on any other social media sites, it has been generally a brilliant experience...i have made such great friends, have talked to a bunch of you, received amazing mile thirst traps in my inbox, have been entirely inappropriate in writing my shameless tags in posts, have openly admitted to my armpit and armpit hair fetish (i made armpit appreciation gifsets ffs), have again very openly talked about my other kinks as well (i think y'all know 🙈) (the armpit fetish admission has led to a beautiful friendship that i cherish <3 and my thirsty tags have led me to meet my feral twin <3)
personally as well i felt like investing myself more into the fandom and the series and the characters and the actors....it made me do things that i had not done before! i talked to fellow fans actively, i made gifs (low quality and using free software lol but i'm actually happy with them), i wrote stuff, like i legit made an ao3 and wrote some stuff lol! i have not done that before and again it is primarily for me and i'm proud of myself for doing these things y'know
last but not the least, kinnporsche the series gave me my thai husband: mile phakphum romsaithong .... and for this alone, it is the best thing out there in the world 🙈🤣
the anniversary of my foray into the series will be next month (it was mile's asscrack that convinced me to finally watch the series that kept trending on tumblr from time to time) but let me be emotional today too
thanks y'all and happy 1st anniversary!
#wow that got entirely too long#kinnporsche the series anniversary#i just wanted to let y'all know that i love you#it has been nice....to actually like something so intensely....it had been a while#how are you celebrating the anniversary?#i ate 3 samosas and a chocolate chip muffin#and did other important personal things...all in all a very productive sunday!#kinnporsche#kinnporsche the series#my tumblr wife that i got from the fandom is in the replies ♥️
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Current ask game
Tagged by the dazzling @thewayofsubtext! Thanks so much :D
Current time: 8:30-ish in the morning. A rare morning for this hypersomniac. I see a nap in my future!*
*There was indeed a nap, and now it's 2 pm
Current activity: Catching up on things I've been tagged in, I've gotten very behind with low spoons. But the real question is what am I procrastinating doing, which is cleaning my house so chairs can be delivered.
Currently thinking about: Wondering how long it'll be before I crash and need a nap.* But also planning what I'm going to do with my few days off and how to catch up on all the smaller things on my to do list I've been putting off
*It was 30 minutes give or take
Current favorite song: Gosh favorite songs are hard, ummm let's go with Nauseous by the Rose. I got to see them perform recently so it seems appropriate to pick something by them!
Currently Reading: I was going to say nothing. I don't get much reading done for fun these days (dissertation...sigh). But about an hour ago I ran into a gem which I'm planning to use for my next meta post on Shadow. It's Ghostly Desires: Queer Sexuality & Vernacular Buddhism in Contemporary Thai Cinema by Arnika Fuhrmann
Currently Watching:
Too much and I'm probably going to drop some, so I'll just list what I'm currently enjoying and definitely plan to keep watching
Shadow-It's great! I usually only write meta once in a blue moon but it's got me in a meta frenzy. Plus Singto, Fluke, and Fiat--sign me up! Highly recommend!
One Room Angel-Really enjoying this one so far. It's dealing with heavy emotions and topics in a very Japanese style which I love. We'll see how it sticks the landing this week. I don't mind sad endings if their done well and meaningfully. But I also hope for a happy ending (and that desire is where they really get me as a viewer)
Last Twilight-Like a lot of folks, my disabled ass was wary but held out hope that P'Aof would do this justice a la Moonlight Chicken. The first few episodes showed me that he is at the very least aware of the conversation and ready to handle this with nuanced characters. I can't say I don't have a few quibbles and I'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but so far I'm pleased!
My Dear Gangster Oppa-It's really sweet and fun, flaws and all. Hard not to relate to two awkward dudes who never had a lot of friends bonding. Throw in gangsters and gamers and it's a nice watch each week!
Bake Me Please-I really enjoyed the first episode. The characters feel lived in. Plus it's nice to see Guide in a lead role after I Feel You Linger in the Air and alongside Ohm at that. I can't put my finger on it, but something about how they're building out the cast reminds me of Taiwan's style which is interesting to see.
Oh No! Here Comes Trouble-Doing a re-watch with my partner. An absolute favorite! It tackles grief and loss with depth, a strong sense of storytelling, and a quirky sense of humor. Throw in the supernatural and fantastic characters, and I fell in love.
Current Favorite Character: This is too hard! Fine, I'll choose! Pu YiYong from Oh No! Here Comes Trouble
Current wip: Currently working my way to a meta on technology in Shadow
Play away: @thepancakelady @petalsandeverythingnice @ablazenqueen @justanothertraveller42 @thepondstogether @shining-oranges86 @outofthewoods-tv @not-a-real-colour @writerwithoutsound @imminentinertia @kudaai @buffvsummers @chickenstrangers @mirabella96 @superrex319 @broidkwhatibedoinganymore @lady-pascal @synxailla @waitmyturtles @lurkingshan @jemmo
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✨2023: A Summary✨
Post your most popular and/or favourite edit/gifset/analysis for each month (it’s okay to skip months!)
Thank you for the tag @ranchthoughts! <3
With a grand total of 472 bl related posts (the most being in May), my first year of bl blogging has been a lot more extensive than I realized! It's also the first time I've been consistently active for this long so I'll probably be here for quite a while longer :D
January [total bl related posts: 10]
Most popular (and favorite): vegaspete hierarchy, based on @theoryofarson's post
February [total bl related posts: 39]
Most popular: overjoyed approval
Favorites: jim + heart's parents parallels, heart + being unable to communicate and heart and movies
March [total bl related posts: 51]
Most popular: Sound's outfits
Favorites: mlc + strained relationships, alanwen, akkayan liars and mlc + leng's grief
April [total bl related posts: 63]
Most popular: soundwin / tinngun
Favorite: msp + kids being kids, yak being oblivious - and bonus spot goes to the wlw tinngun au masterpost because it still lives in my brain rent free
May [total bl related posts: 132]
Most popular: wanxian
Favorites: heart + sign language, soundwin pee hand bfs, soundwin os2 dance, tintol + trust and heartliming + inverse
Honorary spot to my sister's edit of msp prom night live performance because it's still hysterical to me
June [total bl related posts: 19]
Most popular: tinnsound friendship
Favorites: patpran and identity, yunmeng siblings and wwx + jc tragic siblings
July [total bl related posts: 36]
Most popular: palm doesn't cry
Favorites: win + jc parallels, vice versa, nueng + jealousy and heartliming + colors
August [total bl related posts: 40]
Most popular: ray has to serve
Favorites: ofts bathroom meta, ray + loneliness and palm + abandoning
September [total bl related posts: 45]
Most popular: sand having the time of his life (lie)
Favorites: sand not going to therapy, sand + ephemerality, palm + agency and more palmnueng
October [total bl related posts: 11]
Most popular: jim + li ming (and special shout out to my reaction to gmm24)
Favorites: palmnueng + tragedy and palmueng + wanting
November [total bl related posts: 7]
Most popular: pit babe breaches thai bl tumblr (not clickbait)
Favorite: palmnueng
December [total bl related posts: 19]
Most popular: palmnueng
Favorites: saifah + sailom and sun/moon akkayan with @akaane000
WOW that was a lot of posts!! It was so fun to go through them though, and see how my writing style changed a bit. Hopefully this year is just as filled with bl content <33
Tagging: anyone who wants to! Please tag me, I'd love to see :)
#wrote this between doing research so it's not as detailed as usual :')#anyway i love doing numbers#2023 bl wrapped#ranch beloved#distant screaming screams into the void
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Decorate My Tree
Although I have not celebrated Christmas for more than a decade now, I still think it is fun to join some of the holiday-themed activities starting with this one 😊 tagged by @telomeke in this post, here is my humble tree 😁
I am actually spending this whole month of December away from home. During the first week, my employer sent me to Melbourne for some technical training. Afterwards, I flew to Manila to spend Christmas with my mum before flying back home to Australia just before New Year.
Christmas in Manila is a bit chaotic 😅 So, aside from meeting with friends, I just planned to read books and binge-watch all the Thai shows I missed.
Tagging @imlivingformyselfdontmindme, @waitmyturtles, @lost-my-sanity1, @dimplesandfierceeyes, @dribs-and-drabbles, @ablazenqueen, @shortpplfedup, and anyone interested to play this game.
To play:
Decorate the tree in the post you were tagged in (and you can leave a little message in there for the OP, that will be opened on Christmas Day); 🎄
Create your own tree, post it and tag others; 🎄
Tell us how you'll be spending the holidays (or don't tell us, also fine 😉);
Link to the post(s) that tagged you so that others can decorate their trees too! 😍
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Last Seen Blogs
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A. WOOD